Hal knew he faced a brawler from the way the man made one lunge, then retreated into a crouch. Suddenly he realized something. The other two men would be back. ‘We’d best kill them swiftly and be on our way.’
‘I know,’ said Ty. He watched as his man made the fatal mistake of trying to turn while still on the ground and as he stood up he impaled himself on the tip of Ty’s sword.
Ty turned to see Hal’s opponent backing away. His eyes widened, and Ty turned around and saw the two men who had run out of the tavern appear, coming from the other direction at a run. Ty crouched as the two men came close.
But rather than attack, the two men slowed and approached with their palms upraised. ‘Wait!’ shouted one, the red-bearded man.
‘Why?’ demanded Ty, standing over the body of the man he had just killed.
‘That,’ said the second man, pointing behind Ty.
‘Hal, what does he mean by “that”?’ asked Ty, not taking his eyes off the two men from the tavern.
‘Look,’ said Hal. From the other end of the street a half dozen men were coming at a run.
‘Come with us,’ said the red-bearded man.
‘How do we know we can trust you?’ asked Ty.
‘You think you can trust that lot?’ replied the man, pointing again.
Ty looked once more and saw the men who were approaching had their weapons drawn.
‘Fair enough!’ shouted Hal, lashing out with a sudden move that took his close opponent across the ribs. It was not a killing blow but would slow the man down enough to stop him joining in the hunt.
They took off on a mad dash and the red-bearded man motioned for them to turn a corner and race towards the harbour. Hal glanced over his shoulder and saw the men behind them now numbered a full dozen, all looking ready for blood.
Normally the crowded streets of Roldem’s river and harbour district would have been a hindrance, but because business had fallen off, the docks were as empty as if it had been a temple holy day. They charged through one big square, down another street and came to the docks. The red-bearded man turned right and the other three followed. At the end of the docks a ship was tied up and before the gangplank stood a dozen armed men.
Ty began to slow, but the dark-haired man shouted, ‘It’s all right. Come on!’
The men in front of the gangway parted and the four of them ran up to the deck of the ship. They looked back just in time to see the dozen men run up to the men gathered before the ship. They slowed just out of reach and hesitated.
Ty said, ‘If they attack do we go back down?’
‘They won’t attack,’ said the red-bearded man.
‘Why?’ asked Hal. ‘That’s why,’ said his companion, pointing to the far end of the dock.
Where the dozen pursuers had turned, there now came a squad of men in the uniform of the Roldem city guard. Steel helmets gleamed in the day’s sun and half of them carried pikes.
The leader of the pursuers saw them coming, shouted an order and they broke into a run and dashed down an alley, away from the docks.
The leader of the watch came to stand before the dock workers and demanded, ‘What’s all this, then? Got a dead man back around the corner and saw a bunch of men dashing this way.’
One of the dock men said, ‘Jumped one of our lads in the alley and a fight broke out. We came and got them then they got their friends, then they came here, and tried to fetch our lads.’
The watch leader looked dubious then he glanced over and saw which ship he was standing by. ‘Oh, this is . . .?’
‘Yes,’ said the dock man. ‘I think it was a ruse to get aboard.’
‘Well, we can’t have that,’ the watch commander said. ‘They’re long gone, no doubt, but we’ll have a look after them and see if we can find anything.’ His attitude suggested he wouldn’t look very hard and expected to find nothing. With a wave he gestured for his company to follow and he set off along the alley down which the other gang had fled.
‘Well, that’s done,’ said the red-bearded man. He turned to Ty and Hal. ‘Follow me, please.’
Seeing no alternative, they did and he led them through a door to a cabin at the rear of the ship.
In the room they found two people waiting, a young man in naval uniform and a beautiful young woman. She smiled and said, ‘There you are.’
‘Ma’am,’ said Hal, and Ty touched his forelock in salute.
She sighed theatrically. ‘I am Lady Franciezka Sorboz, a loyal servant to His Majesty the King.’
‘And I am Albér,’ said the young officer. ‘We met at—’
‘You’re the Prince!’ blurted Ty. ‘Highness . . .’ He bowed.
Hal followed suit. ‘Your highness.’
The young man grinned. ‘Here I am Captain, not Prince.’
‘This is your ship, High— Captain?’ asked Ty.
‘Yes.’ He motioned for the two men to sit opposite Franciezka on a padded seat in front of the large stern windows. Even though these were the captain’s quarters, there wasn’t a lot of room.
‘We were content merely to watch over you from a distance,’ said Lady Franciezka, ‘until you so foolishly decided to go out brawling.’
‘Actually, my lady,’ said Ty, ‘he decided to go out. I went after him to ensure he was safe, and the brawling was not our idea. It just sort of happened.’
‘It’s been a month,’ said Hal, as if that explained everything. ‘So, were those Keshians? They didn’t look like Keshians.’
‘Those were common thugs, though I suspect at least one among them may have been a trained assassin,’ said Lady Franciezka. ‘You would both have been found dead, or you dead, Prince Henry, and you wounded, young Hawkins, and the story would be that it was a dockside brawl among many men, and the witnesses would have conflicting stories. Create enough confusion and the truth is hidden.’
‘And while the city watch was sorting things out,’ added Prince Albér, ‘my father would have the difficult task of informing King Gregory that a distant cousin of his was killed in a brawl.’
Hal realized something. ‘You didn’t answer me. They were Kesh’s agents, right?’
‘No,’ said Lady Franciezka. ‘Despite the fleet looming off the harbour mouth, we’re actually on good terms with Kesh these days, at least relative to what the Kingdom of the Isles is dealing with; no, we have sure knowledge those weren’t Keshian agents trying to kill you.’
‘Who then?’ asked Ty.
‘That’s the question, isn’t it?’ said Albér.
‘Yes. It wasn’t Kesh and it certainly wasn’t Roldem,’ offered Lady Franciezka. ‘That means there’s another, unknown, player taking a hand.’
Chapter Sixteen Revelations
AMIRANTHA TENSED.
He waited to see if anything went awry as Gulamendis completed his preliminary enchanting. The two had spent most of his visit determining a means of investigating the demon realm without actually exposing themselves to an attack from there.
‘I think I’m ready,’ said the elven Demon Master.
‘I’d be calmer if you had not said “think”.’
Gulamendis glanced at his friend and then gave him what passed for an amused smile; Amirantha had come to appreciate the subtleties of elven expression over the two and a half weeks he had been the Demon Master’s guest. He’d also come to appreciate his people more, though the experience was leaving him with mixed feelings.
Amirantha nodded once, and Gulamendis began his final summoning.
The warlock waited for the tell-tale bristle of energies that signalled the breach of the barriers between the mortal realm and the demon realm. Gulamendis finished his preparations.
Nothing happened.
‘Well, that was disappointing,’ said the elf.
‘What did you feel?’
‘Nothing.’ He looked at his human friend. ‘Just, nothing. It was as if there was no one on the other side, no demon present.’
‘Odd,’ said Amirantha.
>
Gulamendis and he were standing in the middle of a large empty room, slated to be a storage area in the future, but presently unused. They had been given permission by Tanderae, the Loremaster and highest ranking member of the Regent’s Meet that was not hostile to them to use it, and had taken almost three days in preparing wards against an accidental summoning. The wards were strong enough in Amirantha’s judgment to hold anything this side of a demon prince in thrall should one come through, and the intent was not to reach through and bring over a demon but simply control a demon in the other realm long enough to speak to it. Had it gone as designed, they’d have seen the image of the demon standing in the centre of the ward and would have been able to communicate with it.
It had been Amirantha’s idea for a while that somehow they should be able to see across the barrier into the demon kingdoms, but it had taken a long discussion with Gulamendis and his brother, Laromendis the Conjurer, to come up with a workable plan.
Amirantha had got the idea from two different things told to him, first by those in the Conclave of Jim Dasher’s original encounter with the demon cult serving Dahun, and the summoning of the image before the mass slaughter overseen by the mad magician Belasco. Then he had taken what Laromendis had told him of portals of scrying, ‘rift windows’ as Amirantha thought of them, rifts you could look through, but not pass through.
Why not combine the two? They had been working on the theory, and more than once Gulamendis had regretted his brother’s absence. The conjurer was again in Elvandar, one of those detailed by Tanderae to be an envoy to the Elf Queen’s court. Amirantha knew some sort of Star Elf politics was at play, but the details were lost on him. He shook his head. ‘Well, I remember a story once where a smith forgot to use one last nail on a horse’s shoe, and the shoe came off at the worst time and the horse went lame, and the rider of the horse was tossed and killed, and failed to deliver a message which kept a king from riding into a trap and his kingdom fell when he was killed. So a kingdom was lost, all for the want of a nail.’
‘So what nail did we overlook?’
Amirantha waved his hand at a pile of parchments they had written furiously on over the last few days. ‘We start again.’ Then he realized how tired he felt and said, ‘But perhaps tomorrow? Right now I could use a flagon of what passes for wine here.’
The taredhel did not ferment grapes, but had devised a very potent drink from berries. It was called leorwin and Amirantha was developing a taste for it. Or at least for its intoxicating effect.
‘Agreed,’ said Gulamendis. ‘We’ll resume work tomorrow; tonight wine.’
They left the room after extinguishing the lanterns. As they walked away a glowing wisp of vapour formed in the centre of the ornate diagram on the floor. It coalesced into a shimmering oval through which a shape could be seen. The shape stopped moving, as if sensing something. It turned as if seeking the source of the sensation, then approached the window and leaned forward, reaching out. Two burning red eyes resolved themselves in a massive face as it grew closer. Then the mist vanished.
Amirantha saw the Lord Regent and most of the members of the Regent’s Meet hurrying towards the massive hall used by the Star Elves as their nexus of portals. Gulamendis said, ‘From the expression on his face, the Lord Regent is not in a mood to be social. Let’s just – keep going—’
Unfortunately, the Lord Regent spotted them and waved them over. ‘I’ve been summoned by the Loremaster to the Portals, something to do with demons, he thinks. You two attend me.’
Saying nothing, the two Demon Masters fell in behind the group. Amirantha glanced at Gulamendis, clear in his eyes the silent thought, What now?
The party mounted the broad stairs leading up to the huge building used to house all portals for the taredhel. They entered and found several elves scurrying about, or as close to scurrying as Amirantha had seen them. A lithe and graceful race, the taredhel always seemed to move with elegance and precision even when hurrying.
Tanderae, Loremaster of the Clans of the Seven Stars, was supervising a pair of galasmancers, those magicians responsible for creating portals, or rifts as humans called them.
The Lord Regent stopped a few feet away, his face an unreadable mask. ‘Yes?’ he said in a tone that made it clear he was not pleased to have been summoned. Standing to his right and slightly behind him stood Kumal, Warleader of the Clans of the Seven Stars, and his expression mirrored his master’s displeasure. Both were dressed in robes of state, deep purple with sleeves trimmed in yellow-orange, every seam finished with silver thread. Gold frogs and loops gathered the robes in front. The Warleader’s robe was sleeveless and open at the front, revealing his silver breastplate. He bore gold pauldrons on his shoulders with matching gold bracers on his wrists.
‘Why was I summoned?’ demanded the Lord Regent.
Tanderae said, ‘Sire, we have been sending scrying probes through the gates to our old homes, to see if the demons still hunt us. We began to experience difficulties doing so on the world Baladan. Something prevented us from keeping a clear portal long enough to send our scrying probe through, and we have just located the source of that disruption to our explorations.’
‘For this you practically command me to leave the Regent’s Meet and rush here?’ Looking pointedly at the Loremaster, he said, ‘A meeting from which you were not excused, Tanderae.’ His glance took note of the Loremaster’s less formal attire, a simple dark blue robe and woven sandals. The only mark of his office was a silver brooch over his heart.
Tanderae bowed slightly. ‘This is why I was not at the Meet, Lord Regent, and why I sent for you despite knowing you were occupied with other vital matters. This really cannot wait.’
The senior galasmancers looked caught between regret at the summons and excitement over their find. Both knew the Lord Regent was quick to anger and slow to forgive, and it was often a task to know which mood would be upon him when bringing him news he did not wish to hear.
Tanderae ignored his lord’s building displeasure and pointed to the frame that would generate a portal. Glancing to the elf next to him, he nodded.
Nicosia, the Chief Galasmancer said, ‘My lord, our problems were not due to any failing on our part. Rather, the difficulties are because someone or something is trying to follow our last flight from Andcardia to . . . here.’
Suddenly the Lord Regent’s anger vanished and he became attentive, all hint of impatience gone. ‘You did well to summon me.’
He glanced at the portal and saw four Sentinels in full battle array. Despite their ceremonial appearance – spotless purple-trimmed yellow tunics and clean white-lacquered steel breastplates and helmets – these were battle-hardened warriors, and the armour had endured its share of dents, scrapes and bloodstains before being repaired and donned again. The Lord Regent nodded his respects, knowing that their presence indicated that the galasmancers had never lost sight of the dangers of opening portals to unknown worlds. One never knew what might come through if the portal was not fashioned properly. In theory, they were one-way devices, but brutal experience had taught them that wasn’t always the case. The Lord Regent vaguely recalled one report claiming that the human magician Pug knew more about these things, a fact he found difficult to accept.
‘Now,’ said the Lord Regent. ‘Explain.’
Nicosia bowed. ‘My lord, the demons were able to follow us from the Hub World to Andcardia because we lingered too long in destroying all links between those worlds. It was a flaw in our design that what the humans call our “rifts” were allowed to be traced from the Hub, allowing the demons to fashion their own portals as we were destroying ours. We are certain we destroyed all links between here and Andcardia in a timely fashion. We have had no hint of demon pursuit since we arrived here.’
The Lord Regent was always pleased to hear that. They had returned to Home more than ten years ago and still he worried about the Demon Legion.
‘But that doesn’t mean they’re not out looking for us,’ said
the Warleader, his face set in an expression that could only be called contained rage. He had been first in the battle and had borne the responsibility for the loss of countless warriors of the Clans of the Seven Stars and it weighed heavily on him, even years after the conflict.
‘Exactly,’ said Nicosia. He looked at Gulamendis and said, ‘Your demon-summoner can probably better serve you as to describing their abilities, but we are not aware of any demon possessing sufficient magical abilities to construct a portal, or even exploit an existing one unless it is left open for use.’
All eyes turned to Gulamendis who glanced at Amirantha. Seeing no help coming from the mute human, the elf said, ‘My lord, there is far more we don’t know about demons than we do.’ He found himself bordering on falling into one of his favourite rants as to why that was: because those endeavouring to learn about demons were hunted down and persecuted under this Lord Regent’s command, and the Circle of Light, the only body in taredhel society dedicated to knowledge for the sake of knowledge, had been obliterated. ‘We know some are magic-users, mostly battle-magic.’
He glanced at Amirantha again, and this time the warlock gave him a slight nod of agreement.
Gulamendis continued, ‘Since meeting Amirantha we’ve come to understand that the demon realm is a great deal more complex than we presumed.’
The Lord Regent looked at the human warlock and it was clear he expected a comment from him.
‘My lord,’ said Amirantha, bowing his head slightly. It wasn’t just that they were all taller by at least a head than he was, it was also that they were such cold, arrogant bastards: even the brothers, Gulamendis and Laromendis, were only less arrogant and more friendly in comparison to the rest. ‘Since first you arrived—’
A Kingdom Besieged Page 24
