Weaponforger (Guardian's Prophecy Book 3)

by D A Godwin

  The next door he arrived at was breached with a well-placed kick, and he charged in with sword at the ready. This room was uninhabited, however, and dominated by a long table littered with papers and alchemical devices.

  Seeking to cause what damage he could Tormjere upended the table, shattering the vials and releasing their contents on the floor. One flashed with a puff of smoke, and another released an acrid odor so strong it made his eyes water. He spied a door which opened onto a balcony and went through it quickly, gasping for air.

  The warm, salty breeze and bright sunlight allowed his head to clear, but he could only look about in dismay. This tower was immense, one of several in some type of citadel set high on a hill. The skyline of the seaport city below was dotted with dozens of similar, if much smaller, towers. A leap from the balcony would be unquestionably fatal, and unless he sprouted wings he could never hope to jump the distance to the next closest tower. He was trapped.

  Mataasrhu might offer his only way out, but Tormjere no longer had a bargaining chip and any help was certain to cost him more than he wished to pay. Taking a deep breath, he plunged back into the room, tore a scrap of paper from a book, and, after locating a quill, hastily scrawled Mataasrhu’s name on it. He swept a shelf clean and left the scrap there. It might give him a little advantage or none at all, but if names conveyed some power over the creatures, it was all he had left.

  A shattering noise like a cabinet’s worth of dishes hitting the floor all at once carried up the stairs, and he suspected that the magical barrier below had been breached. Choosing not to wait and find out, he ran back up the stairs to the room they had first appeared in. Once inside he bolted the door shut.

  Mataasrhu was descending through the hole he had torn in the ceiling, his skin burned and torn in dozens of places. “Too many come now, and I shall depart. Enjoy what is left of your life.”

  “But we made such a pair,” Tormjere said. “Care to help a friend out on your way?”

  Mataasrhu grinned cruelly, almost as if he had expected this turn of events. “Now it is I that shall offer you a bargain,” the demon said as the purple-black mist began to swirl next to him. “Your salvation for your servitude. I will keep you alive, and you will kill those that I wish dead. And you shall give my name to no one.”

  An explosion shook the door, stretching the wooden planks apart and sending multicolored light streaming into the room.

  “Time is short,” Mataasrhu sneered.

  “I will kill those demons you tell me to, and any others I so choose, until our return to this world.” It was not much of a concession, but it was all he could think of.

  “It is bargained,” Mataasrhu agreed.

  Tormjere bowed his head mockingly and stepped near the demon. Dark mists enveloped them both, and the world plunged into darkness.

  Fallout

  Shalindra’s eyes snapped open as Tormjere pulled away. A wave of vertigo swept over her as she sought to reconcile the pleasant scene at the edge of the lake with the chaos of the one she had just witnessed. Of all the horrible fates she had feared for him, none came close to the reality of what he had faced.

  “You did not need to do that.”

  His voice was insistent and filled with purpose. “I had to hurt them enough that they would leave you alone. I took away their sense of safety, and it seems to have worked.”

  “I would never have asked so much of you, no matter the price we would have paid. Never.”

  “I certainly would have preferred a different outcome. But I don’t regret it. There are times when the only choice is to walk the path before you.”

  Shalindra shuddered. She wanted desperately to know what he had endured while under the control of the demon, but hints of those torments had revealed there was more pain than he would admit even to himself. She had seen enough, for now.

  She tilted her face towards the Three Sisters and sought strength from their enduring solidness. “There were nights when I would have dreams, much as I did when you first rescued me, but they were different, less focused. I prayed they were yours, though it defies all logic. It was almost a relief each time they came because I knew, somehow, that you were still alive. If only your thoughts could have reached me more clearly.”

  “What difference would it have made? What could you have done other than suffer with me?”

  “I do not know.” She returned her eyes to his. “But I would have tried. And if my efforts had failed then I would have tried again, and then again once more. I would have continued until something worked, no matter how long it took. Your negotiation in the pass was opaque to me. I never knew the exact bargain you struck with the creature, as I never knew where it was taking you. All I could do was pray that Eluria would watch over you and see you returned safely.”

  “I doubt She could have done anything. The demon’s world had different moons and only one god.”

  Shalindra tried to wrap her thoughts around such a concept but struggled to imagine a place so different from their own. “Will you tell them now?”

  “If they know I’ve spent years living with a demon, half the village will be calling for my head, if they aren’t already. And they would be right.”

  “It will not come to that. I think you underestimate them.”

  He shrugged. “It hardly matters what I think. They’re almost here.”

  Shalindra looked back the way she had come to see Enna, Birion, and Edward approaching with caution.

  “We wished to ensure all was well, my lady,” Birion said, watching Tormjere warily.

  “I believe that it is,” Shalindra replied.

  Tormjere said nothing, but heads turned to him expectantly.

  They are your friends. You owe them some explanation.

  “As you recall, we fled into the mountains after being turned away from Kirchmont and Westholm. When the Ceringions sent another demon we were strung out with no hope of holding the pass, but I tricked it into betraying its master. We killed both the wizard and those soldiers with him. Hoping to distract them from further notions of pursuit, I then travelled with the demon to the citadel of the Imaretii, where we destroyed who and what we could. My only avenue of escape was to follow the demon back to his own realm.”

  Enna’s hands flew to her mouth, but not fast enough to hide the desperate denial on her lips.

  “I managed to free myself a short time ago and made my way here.”

  Shalindra held her breath as she awaited their reactions, but his recounting was greeted with stunned silence. Birion attempted to keep his face impassive as he stroked his moustache. Edward’s jaw tightened, but there was sympathy in his eyes. It was only the slightest of comforts that they had not expected such a tale either, but they had not known him as she did, and she should have done more.

  Edward finally freed his tongue. “How did you bargain with it? Not a one of the creatures that we faced ever made a sound like anything but the beasts that they are. And why not tell us?”

  She heard frustration work its way into Tormjere’s voice. “Demons, which we thought unintelligent monsters, not only speak but have a structured society and are adept at magic. And they’ve hidden those facts from the most powerful wizards on this world for generations.”

  Birion shook his head. “Most would consider you a raving lunatic for saying such things.”

  “And this demon that held you just let you go?” Edward asked, clearly struggling to comprehend it all.

  “He had no choice,” Tormjere replied.

  “Then why didn’t you leave sooner?”

  “Because I had no choice.”

  Edward’s brow furrowed. “You speak in riddles when there is little cause to do so.”

  Tormjere’s eyes narrowed, and Shalindra quickly stepped between them. “This revelation is troubling on many levels, but it poses no immediate threat that we are aware of. Today has been difficult for all of us, and I think there is much that we must now consider.”

  Birion be
gan to speak, but Shalindra cut him off. “Enna and I will attend to matters at the castle.” She turned back to Tormjere. “You should discuss what you know of the demons’ capabilities with Honarch.”

  Sending me away?

  He can best determine how this might affect our dealings with the demons in the future, and you need to talk to someone who can understand what you know.

  And after that?

  Find me, and I will listen to what you feel.

  * * *

  The pounding on his door startled Honarch out of his thoughts. He would have to check his alarm spells again, because none of them had alerted him to anyone’s arrival. He hurried down the steps and opened the door to find Tormjere standing outside.

  “Oh, it’s you. Come in. Shouldn’t you be with Shalindra?”

  “She sent me here to settle things down.”

  “What happened?” Honarch asked as he closed the door.

  “I may have almost killed a bunch of our soldiers.”

  “That seems… unfortunate. Should I be worried?”

  Tormjere made no effort to hide his frustration, though it was likely with himself more than anyone else. “No, but no one wants me around.”

  “And I’m to keep an eye on you? Trap you in a cage of mystic energies or something?”

  “I think that was the intent.”

  Honarch was not surprised. They always sent their problems to him, after all. The clerics were kind enough, and Shalindra was as generous as she could be, but no one else bothered him unless they needed something done. Tormjere was likely treated the same. Commoners never trusted those with power, regardless of what good they accomplished.

  “Consider yourself trapped, then. Why don’t you come up to my study? I find the height helps my thinking.”

  Tormjere lapsed into silence as they climbed the steps, wearing a look Honarch recognized far too well. Whatever he had done was obviously serious, and no one was ever harder on Tormjere than he was on himself.

  Once in the room, he waved Tormjere to a chair before occupying his usual seat by the window.

  “I take it this is somehow related to the mystery of where you’ve been all this time.”

  “More or less. I bargained with the demon, travelled with it to Tythir, wrecked one of the Conclave’s towers, and then escaped by following him to his own realm.”

  Honarch was thankful he was sitting down. “And I thought my adventures were noteworthy. I’ll admit that I’m full of questions.”

  “Everyone seems to be. I’m not sure why it matters now. I didn’t show up bringing hordes of demons into the valley. The past is behind us.”

  Honarch tried to hide his concern. Something had changed in the youth that had saved him from this same valley years before, and he doubted that change was for the better.

  Still, the problem had come to a head, and it could be solved like any other. No matter what was eating him Tormjere had never been one to talk about himself, even when he needed to, so Honarch elected to take a purely academic approach and see what he could coax out.

  “The demon realm, as you called it, is most commonly named Urtratu in the texts. I believe the word derives from an elvish term. I’m not sure if it is truly a realm or a different plane of existence, but either construct serves for our discussion.”

  “They call it ‘the world,’ just like we do.”

  “Interesting. There are few authoritative works on the subject, and those that do exist are kept locked away. The knowledge of where demons come from is tightly controlled.”

  “It wasn’t much of a secret when they kept showing up everywhere we went. You know how many times they tried to kill her.”

  Honarch stood and began pacing. “This is true. Something must have changed during the war for them to sanction such overt use. There have been no sightings or verifiable reports since then that I am aware of.”

  Tormjere rested a hand on his sword hilt and repositioned it more comfortably, but the motion failed to hide the fact that his hand was shaking. Honarch decided to shift the conversation away from the fighting and tried to keep the worry from his voice.

  “I’ll assume that dealing with the Ceringions pursuing us was accomplished with the usual application of force, so let’s set that aside. How did you bargain with a demon?”

  “The same way I would with any merchant: I offered him something he wanted in exchange for what I wanted.”

  “That implies the ability to communicate, unless you figured out the requisite spell.”

  “Demons can talk.”

  “There have been theories about that,” Honarch said, “and as I do not consider you to be infirm, I choose to believe you. However, it would be only slightly less disturbing had you come bearing news that cows could speak.”

  “Cows talk to each other all the time.”

  He chuckled, hoping to lighten the mood. “Point taken, but they don’t speak to us. How did you discover it?”

  “I just guessed. Something you mentioned once about them having names came to me, so I gambled that having one would allow me to control it.”

  “Wait, where did you get the name?” Honarch asked. “They’re never written down. It violates the directive.”

  Tormjere looked out the window. “This one was.”

  Sensing his friend’s unease, Honarch did not press for more. He had yet to see a demon, but he had heard plenty of descriptions and it took little imagination to conclude that the deal reached was unpleasant. The particulars could be sorted out later, when Tormjere was less on edge. “Where did you go from the pass, once this agreement was reached?”

  “A tower in the Conclave’s citadel.”

  “Tythir,” Honarch said in amazement. “That’s hundreds of miles away. Which tower?”

  “I was too busy to ask.”

  “I’m sure. I inquire only because… Well, it doesn’t matter. And you fled from there to their world?”

  “That was our bargain.”

  Honarch suppressed a shudder. “I cannot imagine that was pleasant.”

  Tormjere put a hand to his forehead. “Life is unpleasant, at times.”

  There was neither defeatism nor self-pity in that statement, just an unvarnished appraisal. Honarch sighed inwardly, wondering how much longer Tormjere would remain in Newlmir, and if his leaving would be by choice. It was doubtful that this would end any other way. He himself was tolerated only because of his occasional usefulness, and the times when he had journeyed from the valley he had not been missed. The thought filled him with sadness.

  “There’s been enough sorrow for everyone these past few years,” he said, almost to himself. “And all of us have changed.”

  “I’m still me.”

  Honarch placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder, hoping that it was so. Either way, when Tormjere did leave, he would not go alone.

  * * *

  The dented shield landed on the table with a clatter, startling Shalindra from her thoughts. The center was caved in on itself, and blood stained the straps on the back.

  When she looked up she was confronted by Birion and Edward’s grim expressions. She silently prayed for strength, steeling herself for what was certain to be an unpleasant conversation.

  “What is this?”

  “This,” Birion said, “is the shield that he put his fist through.”

  “Today’s incident was unfortunate, but the situation—”

  “Your Highness, a lance at full charge would not do this much damage. He is not the same as he was when he left us.”

  “None of us are.”

  “We can appreciate what he has done,” Edward said. “I cannot imagine what he has been through, living among demons, but we must recognize the risk he poses. Had you not been there to stop him…”

  “He is the most trustworthy man I know, and he has always been loyal to us.”

  “He has always been loyal to you,” Edward corrected, “and what is best for you might not be best for the rest of us.”


  Conversation paused as the door opened and Enna entered the room. She took one look at the serious faces and stood quietly to the side so as not to interrupt further.

  “Tormjere is not our enemy,” Shalindra reiterated, “no matter where he went or what he did.”

  Birion looked pained. “Neither of us are suggesting that he is, at least not by choice.”

  “If you are leading up to something, please just say it.”

  “I respect his prowess, Your Highness. He is, without question, the most capable fighter I have ever seen.” Birion pointed to the mangled shield. “But no man can do this. Were I to force myself against steel with such vigor, I would be begging for your aid to repair my crippled arm.”

  Shalindra put a hand to her aching forehead, wishing that prayers were enough to banish the headaches. “I understand your concerns, and they are valid. Tormjere did what he thought best to save us from the Ceringions and the Conclave. We owe him our lives, yet he has asked for neither reward nor thanks.”

  “In that, at least, he has my respect,” Birion said. “How do you intend to deal with this situation?”

  “I do not know. But I will do everything in my power to see him through this, and I would ask that you do the same.”

  The men exchanged less than enthusiastic glances, then bowed and exited the room, leaving her to ponder the damaged shield in silence. When the door had closed behind them, Enna approached.

  “Those that were injured will recover, with Elurithlia’s blessings.”

  “May Her light keep them safe. Enna, what am I to do about this?”

  Enna shook her head, sending ripples up and down her white hair. “It cannot be swept aside. Word has already spread through the village.”

  “Had I only paid more attention…” Shalindra sat and put her head in her hands. “I feel I have ignored him when he needs me the most. He seemed so normal. How could I have not recognized the turmoil inside him?”