Rides a Dread Legion

by Raymond E. Feist

  Calmly, Pug said, “I know there’s a demon gate.”

  For the first time, Gulamendis’s composure cracked and something akin to hope played across his face. “How do you know?”

  “Because I have been there.”

  CHAPTER 17

  DETERMINATION

  Gulamendis looked stunned.

  Slowly, he asked, “You’ve been there?”

  “Shila.”

  “Shila?”

  “The world from which the Saaur—a race living on this world now—were driven by the demons. It must be the gate where I saw Macros battle Maarg, the Demon King.”

  Gulamendis sat down, now completely stunned. “Maarg?”

  Amirantha said, “We’ve heard legends…”

  Gulamendis stood, held his hand aloft, and conjured a spell. In a moment, a twin to Amirantha’s imp stood before him, wrapped in dissipating smoke. The creature looked surprised to be surrounded by so many onlookers, and spun in place before acknowledging Gulamendis. “Master?” he asked, looking meek and pathetic.

  Gulamendis said, “Tell us of Maarg.”

  Instantly, the imp shrieked in terror and spun in place, as if seeking a way out. “No!” he cried in a shrill voice. “No! No! No!”

  The creature was obviously terrified, but Gulamendis held out his hand. “Tell us of the Demon King!” he commanded.

  The imp looked around, a crazed feral cast to his features, his eyes hooded as if he sought escape or a route for attack. He crouched with clawed hands extended as if he would rend anything that he could reach. “No!” he shrieked, a sound of rage and terror. “No! No! No!” he kept repeating.

  Gulamendis’s eyes narrowed and he said, “He has never disobeyed me before.” He stuck out his left hand, palm up, and incanted something in a language Pug and the others did not understand, but it caused a reaction from Amirantha, who seemed as shaken by the imp’s behavior as the others. “Tell me!” said the Taredhel, and with a closing of his hand some magic was enacted, for the imp doubled over holding his stomach, suddenly in terrible pain.

  “Master, no!” cried the imp, the rage and fear in his eyes now gone, his expression one of pleading.

  “By ward and word, spell and will, tell me of the Demon King!” Again he opened and closed his hand and the imp shrieked in agony. Then, with a wave, he released his magic and the imp drew a deep gasp of air.

  The creature cringed and whispered as if terrified of being overheard outside the room. “The Demon King is greatest of all! He hears what is said; he sees what is done. He rends and eats, and no one escapes him. He rails at the gate, waiting for the final opening.” Suddenly the creature’s eyes widened and it stiffened as if struck from behind, then its eyes rolled up and he fell forward.

  Amirantha stood and with a sweeping arc of both hands in opposite directions, inscribed a dome of energy above the garden. “Brace yourself!” he shouted.

  From above, the sky exploded, the calm blue of the afternoon instantly changed to a raging blast of yellow and white, blinding anyone who glanced upward. Even through the mystic shield the heat swept down over them like waves of torment. Pug was but an instant behind the Warlock with his own counter-spell, and the heat vanished as he neutralized the inferno.

  Gulamendis, Father-Bishop Creegan, and Sandreena were all just reacting, as Jommy dove for the ground, seeking to be as close to the cool soil as humanly possible.

  The flames above vanished, and Pug swept his hand around him in a circular motion, incanting another spell of protection.

  Then from another part of the building a massive silver bolt of energy sped into the sky, arching quickly out of view.

  Amirantha said, “What was that?”

  Pug glanced around to make sure everyone was all right, then knelt to examine the fallen form of the imp. “That would be my wife. Whoever sent that mystic comet down on our heads is about to be suddenly repaid. It’s a nasty trick she’s known since before I met her. If our attacker has no protective wards in place, he’s about to get back worse than he gave. That energy bolt requires far more protection than mystic fire does. It could melt a house.” Dropping the arm of the imp, he said, “It’s dead.” Looking at Gulamendis, he added, “I think.”

  “As dead as it can be here in this realm. It will slowly re-form back in the…” He pointed. “Look.”

  The figure of the imp faded into transparency, then mist, then was gone within a moment.

  “It will re-form, as I said, and I will be able to summon it once more.”

  “With demons, there’s dead, and then there’s dead,” said Amirantha. “I was going to ask you later how your warriors have been killing them.”

  “With every weapon and spell we can muster,” said Gulamendis.

  “There’s one of your problems, then,” said Jommy.

  Both demon masters looked at him and Amirantha said, “Yes, he’s right.”

  Gulamendis nodded. “No one believed me when I would tell them that short of complete destruction through very powerful magic, the demons were only banished to their own realm.”

  “And if they rested up a bit, they could come back through any open gate into this realm,” said Jommy.

  “An army that cannot be destroyed, only delayed?” asked Tomas.

  “Oh, demons can be destroyed,” said Sandreena. “I’ve destroyed more than one myself. Completely and utterly.”

  Father-Bishop Creegan indicated agreement. “It’s the magic of the gods that obliterates them. If you even can stun one long enough to utter a specific oath or spell, the creature is utterly destroyed.” Yet he sounded worried. “But those are rare cases, Pug. Most of our magic is banishment. We do not belabor the difference when we teach that magic, but the majority of demons we deal with are merely sent back to the demon realm.”

  “How difficult will it be to deal with a host of them?” asked Tomas pointedly.

  The old cleric visibly sagged as he admitted, “Impossible. Even if I should muster ever priest, priestess, monk, and nun of every god, as well as all the martial orders, each would only be able to destroy one or two each day. The magic is difficult and exhausting.”

  Pug let out a sigh as Miranda came storming into the garden. “What was that?” she asked accusingly. “We’ve got half the outer buildings on fire and a lot of very frightened students, not to mention a few who were badly burned. It’s a miracle no one was killed.”

  Magnus also appeared and looked ready to do battle. When he saw his mother’s mood, he said nothing.

  Pug glanced at his elder son and said, “Caleb? The others?”

  “Everyone is fine, as far as I can tell,” he answered. “Whoever erected that barrier saved this building and this is where most of the heat struck. Some fires in the outer buildings, but they are being quickly dealt with.”

  “Good,” said Pug. Looking at his wife, he said, “That retaliatory bolt you threw back along the path of the incoming spell, do you have any sense of where it went?”

  She nodded. “To the southeast, to somewhere near the Peaks of the Quor, I think.”

  “Well, someone has just gotten a rude awakening if they’ve survived that,” said Pug. To Magnus he said, “I want you to pass the word: we’re now on a war footing. Send the younger students away, either back to their home worlds or to Stardock. Send messages to everyone to return here as quickly as possible—I want every master magician in council in the next few days.”

  Gulamendis moved over to stand next to Amirantha. “These human magicians are…impressive.”

  “You would do well not to underestimate them,” cautioned the Warlock.

  “I don’t understand” said Gulamendis.

  Amirantha gifted the Taredhel Demon Master with a slight smile. “I think you do.”

  The elf lowered his voice and said, “I will not, but others of my kind…even the harsh lessons of the Demon Legion are lost on them. Arrogance is a relative term among my race.”

  Amirantha saw Pug, Tomas, Mira
nda, and Magnus were in a deep conversation, while Father-Bishop Creegan was speaking intently with Sandreena, and Jommy seemed more intent on watching the pair of them than the two demon experts. The Warlock gently took Gulamendis by the elbow, led him a few more feet away, and said in a low voice, “Let me speak candidly, my new friend. You and I understand things about what is coming that few others on this world can only imagine in a nightmare. And we’ve had but glimpses into that realm from which those nightmares come.

  “Perhaps those you left behind have faced them, but until the Demon Legion arrives, we have much work to do.”

  “What are you proposing?” asked Gulamendis.

  “From chaos comes opportunity,” said the Warlock. “You and I will never fully be accepted by our people, but here”—he waved his hand in a small circle—“this place is unique. I know you haven’t had the time to visit, but there are creatures from other worlds here, intelligent beings who are studying with Pug and his magicians.” He looked back at the sorcerer, who he saw was now watching him speak with the elf. “These people have something special here, and it could be ours as well.”

  The elf said, “I sense what you mean.” He also looked back to see Pug watching over his wife’s shoulder, as she spoke to their son and Tomas. He nodded once, then said, “In a very short time I have come to understand that my view of things, radical and even treasonous to my people’s thinking, is perhaps not radical enough.”

  “Think of it, people who wish only to seek knowledge. Isn’t that why you began poking around in dark caves when you were a child?”

  Gulamendis broke out in a laugh, which caused others to turn and look. He held up a hand. “It is an unseemly jest,” he said to the others. Then to Amirantha, he said, “Yes, that is exactly why I began as you say. Turning over rocks to see what was under them. Pushing sticks into hollow trees to see what was inside. Never-ending curiosity that took me places no one else even imagined. You as well?”

  Amirantha nodded. “Over a century ago. I will tell you sometime of my mother, who was a mad witch, and my brothers, two evil bastards if there ever were, but let me say for the first time in my life I sense something here that might welcome us, and I think we’d be fools to not take advantage. Think of being able to study without fear, and having others nearby to support your work, to aid you if need be. The knowledge we could discover.”

  Gulamendis inclined his head a moment, as if thinking, then said, “Perhaps if time permits, I’ll find my brother alive and bring him here as well. He would also enjoy this atmosphere.”

  “Good,” said Amirantha. “I know trust is hard earned, especially to those like us, but I’ll avow this moment, on my blood, that if you serve to forestall the Demon Legion, I will serve along with you, and should we prevail, I’ll call you brother.”

  The elf studied the human before him, seeing a steel resolve in his features. He said, “Why do I think this is an unusual position you find yourself in?”

  “Because trust comes hard to me, and I’ve spent my life watching people I have come to care for die. I find it easier to be aloof and to keep within myself, and when I spend time with people, it is usually to rid them of their gold.”

  “A frank admission.”

  “I am not a man with pride, Gulamendis. I have vanity, but that is not the same. I have done little in my life for which I feel a sense of achievement.” He nodded toward Sandreena. “That young woman was someone who came to feel something for me, and I repaid her affections with callous abandonment.”

  “Ah, that would explain her attitude when she looks at you,” said the elf.

  “In many ways she’s as strong a woman as one can imagine—certainly the better of most men when it comes to skill at arms—but strong of mind and will, as well. What is not apparent is that she’s also easily hurt.” His voice fell off at the end of the remark and the elf remained silent. Amirantha went on. “The strength hides the vulnerable nature of her heart. She was ill used by men as a child and I assumed that made her callous; quite the opposite, in fact. I do not know how it is with your race, Gulamendis, but with us such matters are often confounding, and from the highest goal of my race, finding love, can come the most harm.”

  “It is not that different, though we have much more time than humans to discover what is truly of value. My brother and I are both counted young by our people, barely halfway through our first century of life. And like you we live on the fringe of our society, so finding a woman who will bear that social stigma makes it even harder.” He glanced over to where Sandreena stood and said, “Perhaps in all this you can reach across the breach between you?”

  “I will never repair that breach,” Amirantha said quietly, “but I choose, if I might, to live a better life.”

  “Upon that we can agree,” said the elf. “All wish a better life.”

  “Come, let us return and make plans to help where we might.”

  They returned to the discussion taking place, and found Pug giving detailed instructions as to what must be done and how quickly. He turned to Gulamendis and said, “Return to your people and let them know of Tomas’s arrival, for he will come within three days and speak to your council. We will not wait upon your leaders to act, but we will welcome them as allies should they choose to join with us.” To Amirantha he said, “I have a difficult task for you, should you be willing.”

  “I’m not prone to taking needless risk, but under the circumstances, I am willing to serve.” He glanced around. “I like what I see, Pug, and would gladly linger here to study, and share what I know.”

  “After,” said Pug, and Amirantha did not need to be told what that meant. To his wife, the sorcerer said, “It would be valuable if you took the Warlock with you, as well as Sandreena”—Amirantha tried hard not to wince—“and discover what you can of where that bolt of fire came from. Whoever sent it knew we were questioning the imp, and that worries me in several ways.”

  Miranda said, “Who can overhear what is said here?”

  “Someone who has links to that imp,” said Amirantha. “You may not understand fully, but those like Gulamendis and myself, who master demons, we think we are utterly in control, but for another entity to be able to eavesdrop on what is said by a demon under our sway…it is most disturbing.”

  “Very well,” said Miranda, hugging her husband. “Do I dare ask where you and Magnus will be?”

  “I must return to Shila,” said Pug, and the color drained from Miranda’s face. She had stood alongside her husband and watched her father battle the Demon King on that world. Macros had held Maarg at bay just long enough for Pug to destroy the rift that led to the demon realm—or so he had thought.

  Strange alien creatures, the Shangri, had constructed the rift, in the ancient city of Ahsart, the Saaur holy city. Pug and she had entered the rift, collapsing it from within. But something Pug had said to her years ago on that world returned: if the rift somehow survived, it could be reopened. She said, “What if the rift to Midkemia had closed as we planned, but the one to Shila, to the demon realm, did not?”

  Pug closed his eyes and said, “I have thought the same. When I first saw that rift I did not understand how unique it was. Since I’ve visited the Dasati world on the next plane of existence, now I realize what a feat it would be to create a rift to reach down to the Fifth Circle. I underestimated the nature of that creation, I fear.”

  “Still,” said Magnus, who had listened to his parents’ discussion, “even if the rift between the demon realm and Shila existed, how would the demons have gotten off that world to raid into the elves’ worlds?”

  “What if Shila was the world the elves found, the one where the demons swarmed into their rift, reaching their portal hub?” said Miranda.

  “We’ll know soon enough,” said Pug. To Magnus he said, “You are coming with me. Pick two others who can keep their wits about them.” He kissed his wife on the cheek and said, “I’ve got to see what damage has been done before I leave, and speak to a
few others, but before night falls, we shall be gone. I suggest you do likewise.”

  Miranda watched him walk away and said to Magnus, “Now is when he will miss Nakor like he hasn’t in ten years.”

  Her son could only nod silently.

  Gulamendis approached the north end of the valley that contained his new home—E’bar, as he thought of it, Home. He knew the sight of a winged demon speeding toward the city walls would net him a harsh welcome, so he directed the creature to land in a small clearing enough distance from an outpost to keep from being filled with arrows or, worse, incinerated by a magic blast of flame.

  He dismissed his winged horror, which, despite its appearance—mostly drooling jaws and massive claws under gigantic raven’s pinions—was a reliable if bony steed. The Demon Master looked around to see if anyone noticed his approach, and decided if they did they were slow in coming to investigate. Given the level of alertness that became a way of life for the Taredhel, that was unlikely. He judged having come in low over the treetops for the last few miles was a wise choice.

  He worked his way down the hillside until he approached the first outpost on the trail he was using, and he halted within sight of the walls. He waved his hand back and forth and waited to be hailed by the sentry. When a question was called out in his native tongue, he replied and was bid walk slowly forward.

  At the gate he paused while they opened it, and when he stepped inside he was impressed. While the city below was growing at prodigious speed—by dint of magic and the focus of massive effort—here in this former Moredhel village, only the sinew and sweat of those detailed to live here were resurrecting the place. Yet it looked as if the work was almost done. Walls had been repaired, hut roofs re-thatched, streets cleared of brush, and a new well sunk in the village square.