The Rise of the Demon Prince

by Robert Kroese

  “You are the sorcerer called Eben,” the man on the throne said. “I heard that you had returned to my city.”

  “I am not Eben,” I replied, “although I bear his brand.”

  The Governor nodded. “This was your defense at your trial. A case of mistaken identity.”

  “You are familiar with my case, Your Lordship?”

  “It is my business to be aware of threats to the city’s safety. I confess I am in the dark as to why you were released. I’ve made inquiries but have not as yet received a satisfactory response. I suspect bribery or some other form of corruption.”

  “I am no threat to Nagyvaros, Your Lordship.”

  “You are a sorcerer.”

  I hesitated. For the crime of sorcery, the Governor could have me thrown back into Nincs Varazslat for the rest of my life. At the same time, I knew that my use of magic at the palace gate was the only reason the Governor was humoring me. He was trying to determine if I would be a worthwhile ally against the Barbaroki. He might be willing to overlook the proscription against sorcery while the Barbarok threat loomed. In any case, I had already tipped my hand by using magic against the guard; there was little point in playing innocent now.

  “It is true that I am skilled in the use of magic,” I said, “but I am no enemy of yours. I am pledged to protect Nagyvaros.”

  “From the Barbaroki?”

  “The city cannot stand against the Barbaroki,” I said. “Even with my help. I speak of an even greater threat.”

  “The demon that walks the plain,” the Governor said.

  “You know of Voros Korom, Your Lordship?”

  “I have received some reports. Before yesterday, the last I heard was that the demon was heading away from the city. But last night a young acolyte traveling with two men came to the palace claiming that the demon would attack Nagyvaros during the next full moon. My guards turned them away.”

  “They are my companions,” I said. “They spoke the truth.”

  “When I heard about their claims, I sent men to arrest them. They are being interrogated in a room under the palace.”

  “Why, Your Lordship?”

  “I assumed they were agents of the Barbaroki, using the threat of the demon to demoralize us.”

  “And now?”

  “I admit that I am puzzled as to why a sorcerer would risk his freedom for an audience with me.”

  “It is as I say. The city cannot stand against the Barbaroki. Surrender to them that we may face Voros Korom with our combined strength.”

  “The Fourth Division—”

  “With respect, Your Lordship, the Fourth Division will not arrive in time to save you from the Barbaroki, and the Torzseki will not intervene.”

  The Governor frowned. “How do you know this about the Torzseki?”

  I swallowed hard. In my urgency to convince the Governor of the threat, I had revealed too much. “I have divined it,” I said. “The Torzseki will not fulfill their obligation to come to your aid.”

  The Governor regarded me for some time, rubbing his chin with his fingers. Chief Nebjosa’s emissary must have arrived before me with the news of the Torzseki’s refusal to come to Nagyvaros’s aid. Presumably no one knew about this but those in the palace and the Torzseki themselves. The Governor was trying to determine if I was clairvoyant, a traitor, or just plain lucky.

  “What do you know of the Fourth Division?”

  “Three days ago, General Bertrek’s force was still south of Tabor Nev. It will take them at least a week to cross the plain. Your men cannot hold out that long.”

  “You know this by divination as well?”

  “No. My friends and I conferred with the leader of a squad of scouts near Kozepes.”

  “This confirms our own adviser’s statements regarding the position of the Fourth Division, Your Lordship,” the old man next to the Governor said.

  “You would have me hand over the city to savages.”

  “I would have you save your people from a bloody and pointless battle and give the city a chance to survive the coming of Voros Korom.”

  “You understand that if I were to surrender, I would be signing my own death warrant. The Barbaroki will not suffer me to live, for fear that I would raise an insurrection against their rule.”

  “I will not let that happen,” I heard myself say. It was madness, but what else could I do? I was now committed to my role as a powerful sorcerer. If the Governor would not surrender for fear that he would be murdered by the Barbaroki, I needed to convince him that I could keep him safe.

  “You said yourself you could not defeat the Barbaroki.”

  “I cannot defeat an army, no. But I can prevent them from taking this palace.”

  “Why would you do so?”

  “It is in my interest to save your life. If I am to convince the Barbaroki to stand with us against Voros Korom, I will need your help.” That much, at least, was true. I could hardly march up to the Barbarok chieftain after they’d taken the city and plead with him to save it from Voros Korom. The Barbaroki would assume it was a trick. The Governor had some credibility, though, and if we still held the palace, it would give us leverage.

  The Governor nodded, considering this. I realized now that he had been resigned to defeat before I’d ever been brought to this chamber. Now, though, I saw something like hope on his face. Whether this was because he thought the city might be saved from utter destruction or because he might still be spared himself I did not know.

  “Eben was supposed to be a powerful sorcerer,” the Governor said. “But you claim you are not he.”

  “Eben was once my teacher,” I said. “I came to realize that he was a wicked man, and I fought against him. I took this brand, which was the source of his power, and condemned him to live in a world of shadows.”

  “A curious defense. You say you are not Eben, but then say you are an even more powerful sorcerer.”

  “I am not concerned with my legal status at present,” I said. “When this is all finished, you may have me thrown back into Nincs Varazslat if you wish.”

  “When this is all finished, it is unlikely I will have such power. Do you truly believe you can hold the palace against the Barbaroki?” he asked.

  “Not alone,” I said. “We will need as many gendarmes as you can spare. Pull them from the walls if you need to. The walls will not hold, but the palace will. I will also need you to release my friends.”

  “This is foolishness, Your Lordship,” the old man said. “These people are clearly assassins, sent to infiltrate the palace while the Barbaroki try to break down our walls.”

  “The Barbaroki are not ordinarily so subtle,” the Governor said.

  “Nor do they need to be,” I replied. “Without our help, everyone in this room will be dead by tomorrow. I might add that the Barbaroki are not known for granting their enemies painless deaths.”

  “I do not think you work for the Barbaroki,” the Governor said. “But it is reasonable to think you hold a vendetta against me. You did serve six years in Nincs Varazslat, did you not?”

  “The laws against sorcery were in place before you ascended to your current position. I hold the acolytes of Turelem more responsible for my incarceration than Your Lordship, and I am willing to ally with one of them against Voros Korom. You have nothing to lose by trusting me. If I am an ally, I will defend you against the Barbaroki. If I am an assassin, I will at least kill you quickly. But you must decide, Your Lordship. The Barbaroki will not wait much longer.”

  The Governor regarded me for a moment. “Release him,” he said at last.

  The two men released my arms and the knife disappeared from my neck. Still woozy, I rubbed the spot below my chin where the knife had chafed the skin.

  “Give him his weapon,” the Governor said.

  “Your Lordship?” asked one of the guards.

  “The rapier you took from him. Give it back.”

  After a moment of speechless hesitation, the guard trotted off. He
returned shortly with my rapier. He stopped in front of me and glanced at the Governor. The Governor waved his hand impatiently. The guard handed me the rapier, blade down. I took it, and the guard backed away. I made two dramatic slices in the air.

  “Approach,” said the Governor.

  I walked to the throne, holding the blade before me. The Governor sat watching me for a moment. The blade was inches in front of his face. The guards remained several paces away. I could have slit the Governor’s throat and stabbed him twice in the heart just for good measure before they got to me.

  “Sheath your blade.”

  I did so.

  The Governor lifted his gaze to the others in the room. “I trust,” he said, “that our visitor is not an assassin. Now I suppose we shall find out what sort of sorcerer he is.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The attack came just after dark. The Governor had sent a messenger across the plain to ask for terms of surrender, but the man never returned. I had hoped an organized surrender could be effected, allowing the Governor to pull troops from the wall to protect the palace, but the ensuing chaos made that impossible. Messengers informed us that the Barbaroki had attacked en masse, spreading their numbers along the entirety of the eastern wall. The archers on the spire platforms had expended thousands of arrows, but the sun had gone down and the moon had not yet appeared, giving the attackers the cover of near-total darkness. The Barbaroki had ridden their horses at full speed to within a few feet of the wall, holding their shields over their heads, and then dismounted, crowding up against the wall where the archers on the spire platforms could not see them. While the defenders on the wall threw down rocks and emptied caldrons of boiling water on them, the attackers threw up ladders that had been dragged behind the horses.

  The Barbaroki’s strategy was by no means perfect: the rising moon showed that hundreds of horses had been slain on the way to the wall, some with riders trapped beneath them. Many other horses bolted, taking ladders with them. Dozens of men lay strewn across the plain, an arrow having found its way past their shields.

  But chaos reigned inside the walls as well: the city’s gendarmes numbered only about four hundred; the bulk of the defense force were civilians who’d been pressed into service. Most had no weapons other than bricks, stones and pots of hot water that had to be laboriously carted up ladders. Archers were belatedly called down from the spires, but it was impossible to coordinate them in the darkness and pandemonium. The geography of Nagyvaros is confusing even in full daylight; many of the archers apparently got lost on their way to their assigned posts. Some places on the wall had dozens of archers clustered together; others had none. The Barbaroki took advantage of the gaps and soon had so many ladders in place that the defenders couldn’t knock them away fast enough. Within a few hours of the start of the assault, dozens of Barbaroki were on top of the wall. Most were struck down, but enough got through that the defenders were soon forced to fight on two fronts. More and more breakthroughs occurred, and eventually someone managed to get the eastern gate open. Barbaroki poured into the city. The battle was over except for sporadic skirmishes; all that remained was to pillage the city.

  I learned of all this second-hand, from messengers who came to update the Governor. Rodric, Vili and Ilona had been released and given their weapons back; we waited together in the throne room, along with the Governor and twenty-six guards bearing halberds. There had been no time for a teary-eyed reunion. My friends were happy to be out of prison, and I was happy to have them on my side again. Despite being given their freedom, none of them spoke of leaving. We would face the Barbaroki together.

  The throne room was the safest place in the palace, as getting to it required going through several heavy doors that had been locked and barred. I had no doubt the Barbaroki would get in eventually; our only hope was to convince them it wasn’t worth the effort.

  The Barbaroki were not an organized force; once they had free rein in the city, they would rape and pillage as they saw fit. A Barbarok warrior hunkered down in a siege of the palace would be missing out on the spoils of war. The chieftain probably had a few dozen men in his personal guard on whom he could rely to help him eradicate any resistance, but even these would tire of a prolonged siege. If we could hold out until morning, we would be in a good position to sue for terms. We would surrender the palace in exchange for the lives of the Governor and his associates. And then, once the chaos had settled down, we could appeal for the Barbaroki’s help against Voros Korom. That was the hope, anyway.

  As it turned out, I underestimated the Barbaroki’s desire to crush any resistance. The Governor had ordered the defenders to pull back to the palace, and the message apparently got through to a few of them. A defensive perimeter some five men deep had soon formed. A mob of Barbaroki, rising to the challenge, threw itself against the wall of men and quickly broke through. The tide of Barbaroki seemed endless; the defenders who tried to push them back were slaughtered, and many simply fled.

  We did not need a messenger to inform us when the front gate was torn down. Following the crash were the sounds of a skirmish, which quickly died out. The next door took a bit longer, but it fell as well. Now the Barbaroki were in the hall outside the throne room. The messenger who had been bringing us news of the assault was trapped outside by guards who refused to open the door to him. He died screaming. From the commotion outside, I judged there were at least two hundred Barbaroki inside the palace.

  There was not enough room in the hall for a ram, but the Barbaroki eventually managed to hack a hole in the door with axes. Men tried to squeeze through the gap while the guards inside thrust at them with halberds. Other Barbaroki, their frenzy unabated, continued to hack at the door with their axes. The door was now shuddering with each blow; it was clear the whole thing would be in splinters soon.

  “Konrad, use your sorcery!” the Governor called, still seated on his throne. The Governor’s family and most of his staff had fled to the docks to take a boat south to Karcag Castle, but his hunchbacked adviser, named Bendeguz, crouched fearfully behind it. Vili and I stood on his right and Ilona and Rodric on his left. Vili held his knife, Rodric his bow, and Ilona her fighting stick. In front of us, forming a semicircle two men deep, were a score of halberd-bearing guards. The captain of the palace guard and five more men waited at the door.

  I had learned exactly one spell from Eben that might be useful in combat, and it would do virtually no good against a horde of barbarians. Clearly I had to do something, though: our little force would not last long once the Barbaroki began pouring through.

  I closed my eyes and forced my mind to the in-between place. I pulled some of the shadow substance toward me and imbued it with tvari, all the while keeping one thought foremost in my mind: Hold the door. Hold the door. Hold the door.

  I released the kovet and opened my eyes. Men screamed as the dark, spidery thing appeared just in front of our defensive line. But then it slipped away from us and launched itself at the door. It flattened itself against the door, its tentacles spread to the stone wall on either side. The six guards just inside the door recoiled from it. An intrepid Barbarok thrust his head through the gap, coming into contact with the kovet for a moment. His body twitched once and he fell backward, disappearing into the hall. Behind the shadowy form of the kovet, several other men fought not to be shoved through the opening by the men behind them. Meanwhile, axes continued to pound at the door. The Barbarok near the door spoke fearfully to each other while those farther back, unaware of the kovet, shouted and pressed forward.

  But although the kovet arrested the Barbaroki’s momentum, it would not last long. I wasn’t sure I had the strength to summon another, and doing so would only gain us a few more minutes. My promise to the Governor was yet another I was going to break. Not that it particularly mattered at this point: I would die along with him, and whatever was left of Nagyvaros when the Barbaroki were done with it would be destroyed.

  The kovet faded and disappeared, and B
arbaroki began to surge through the opening. The first dozen or so died almost instantly, impaled by the tips of the defenders’ halberds, but the Barbaroki kept coming. The door bowed inward as the invaders pressed against it and finally split wide open. Barbaroki carrying spears or axes now poured in two or three at a time. A few wore helms of steel or boiled leather; the only other armor they wore were leather jerkins or cuirasses. The palace guard were better equipped and no doubt better trained, but the Barbaroki had vastly greater numbers. One guard fell, and then another. Soon all the men at the door had been killed or incapacitated. Barbaroki filled the chamber and advanced toward our perimeter.

  Rodric had stocked his quiver with arrows, and from his position on the dais, he could easily fire over the heads of the defenders. He downed Barbaroki as quickly as he could nock an arrow. Vili and Ilona stood in front of the Governor’s throne, ready to stop any attacker who got through the line. I had informed the Governor that I was accustomed to fighting with Vili and Ilona, and that having them nearby would help me concentrate on my spells. If he was surprised that a sorcerer would fight alongside an acolyte of Turelem, he did not mention it.

  Meanwhile, I stood by helplessly, my rapier still in its sheath. The Governor was red-faced and shouting, but mercifully I could not make out his words over the cacophony in the chamber. I wanted nothing more than to push my way through the palace guards and kill as many of the Barbaroki as I could, but I knew that choice would only doom us all that much faster.

  Why had I come here? Why had I believed I could save the city? I was no sorcerer! I couldn’t even save myself! It was my fault the Barbaroki had gotten over the wall. Perhaps if I hadn’t—

  No. The Barbaroki would have broken through no matter what I did. They were not the real threat. My enemy was Voros Korom. I would stay alive to face him. And I would destroy him.

  Nearly half of the defenders had fallen, and Barbaroki had started to break through the line. Rodric was dropping them nearly as quickly as they reached the dais, but he was tiring. A Barbarok lunged at Ilona with a spear; she deftly disarmed him with her stick and then broke his jaw. Another swung an axe at Vili; Vili ducked under the swing and stabbed the man in the belly. He staggered back.