At the Gates of Darkness

by Raymond E. Feist

  “Well,” said Jim, standing, “I think we’ve kept the Quegan nobles standing in the hot sun long enough. Let us go and be diplomats.”

  Pug and his two companions followed Jim up on the deck and found the sailors of the Kingdom ship Royal Dolphin securing their vessel. A long gangway had been run out to the dock below, and Jim paused dramatically at the top before starting his descent. Pug had not visited Queg in over a century and more than anything he was amazed at how little had changed.

  The City of Queg, capital of the island nation of the same name, was really two cities. Below were the docks, poor quarter, and every manner of industry given to dirt, blood, filth, and ofal: the tanners, dyers, slaughterhouses, fish markets, and forges. The air hung heavy with smoke, soot, odors that assaulted the senses, and noise to deafen.

  The streets were thronged with workers, traders, and fishmongers, though few travelers came and went; Queg was not considered a hospitable nation.

  The upper city rose up on the hills behind, dominated by the Emperor’s palace. It shined in the sun, for it had been faced with white marble over the years, and this “gleaming jewel” of a building could be seen for miles out at sea on clear days. It was also, Pug judged, as fine an example of excesses and bad taste as one might find anywhere on Midkemia.

  A delegation of Quegan officials waited on the dock, none of them looking especially pleased at the duty before them, but all affecting broad smiles and a forced air of conviviality that was less than persuasive. They wore the traditional white togas of office, all lined with a single band of color over the shoulder and along the hem. Those trimmed in red were city officials, while those in gold represented the Emperor. As only one person had gold trim, Jim presented himself to him. “I am Baron James, of the King’s Court in Rillanon, and these are my companions.”

  The official said, “I am Lord Meridious, Chancellor of the Imperial Archives, and given responsibility for your visit.” He was a round-faced man, but broad of shoulders and under his fat heavy muscle was evident.

  Jim shook the man’s outstretched hand and said, “I thank His Imperial Majesty for his courtesy and willingness to allow scholars access to your archives. Especially in light of the abrupt nature of the request.”

  “It was a bit odd,” agreed the Chancellor, “but his Imperial Majesty is always anxious to keep harmonious relations with our neighbors and it seemed a small favor to ask.”

  Jim turned and motioned to his three companions. He introduced Pug, Magnus, and Amirantha. Looking overawed by the presence of such a great personage, all three magicians managed a fair imitation of a self-conscious bow.

  “We have litters ready to bear you to the palace,” said the Chancellor.

  Jim nodded and with a tilt of his head indicated the others should follow. They walked down the docks, between two lines of Quegan soldiers, four with herald horns that had been sounded when the ship had arrived. Now they merely stood motionless in the hot sun awaiting the order to return to barracks.

  Reaching the quay, they found four litters awaiting them. The various city officials, who had not uttered a word, retired to their various offices and the Chancellor indicated a litter for Jim to enter. Pug motioned for Magnus to take one of the litters as he would share the other with Amirantha.

  The litter bearers were all uniformly muscular young men, wearing only the heavy linen skirt of their craft, and heavy-soled, cross-gartered sandals. Their bodies were oiled with flower-scented oils so their perspiration would not annoy their passengers. They picked up the litters and were off at a good pace, while two soldiers marched ahead clearing the streets of the citizens of Queg.

  Amirantha kept his voice low, and in neutral tones said, “So, this is Queg?”

  Pug smiled. He nodded. He knew as Amirantha did the chance was good they were being listened to by more than one of the bearers, who would almost certainly be a Quegan agent. “Yes,” said Pug. “Does your master know much of this place?”

  “A little,” said Amirantha, going along with the pretense that he represented the Maharaja of Muboya. “One of my tasks was to learn as much about the Kingdom’s neighbors as I could, despite being tasked to study your nation. Queg was once part of Great Kesh, true?”

  “Yes,” said Pug, assuming the Quegan agent listening would not be particularly attentive to a history lesson he knew as well as Pug did. “A great revolt in the south of the Empire of Great Kesh, among the client states known as the Keshian Confederacy, caused the Empire to recall her legions from the north. They abandoned all the lands west of and south of Yabon. The Kingdom pushed out of Yabon into what is now the Far Coast, but the former Keshian cities on the shore of the Bitter Sea repulsed the Kingdom’s conquest and formed the Free Cities.

  “Queg was unique as it had served as a naval yard to the south, and as garrison here, and while the Legion left, the navy refused to depart, as their families and lives were here. Kesh was too busy fighting in the south, and by the time that rebellion was crushed, Queg had achieved independence and controlled the Bitter Sea.” He paused as if thinking. “The people who lived here came from a relatively small province of the Empire, I believe called Itiac.” He knew better than that; they came from a province called Itaniac, but he wanted to have whoever listened think he was not an expert on the history of the island nation. “I want to study some documents from that era and before, as our Kingdom history is full of holes and many misunderstandings.

  “Our relationship with Queg has not always been as good as it should be, and as a result there are many mistaken notions about this place and its people circulating in the Kingdom of the Isles. I will take some pride in correcting those misunderstandings.”

  “Well, it’s all new to me,” said Amirantha, playing along. “Whatever I learn will be useful for my reports home. Perhaps my master will wish to send a trade delegation here; you say the Quegans build good ships?”

  “Among the best,” said Pug, knowing that was shading the truth. The Quegans built fearsome war galleys, but they were coastal-going vessels not meant to be more than a day or two offshore. They had nothing that could cross so vast an expanse as the Endless Sea to the west of the Straits of Darkness and reach Novindus. Still, flattery always appealed to those who thought it was sincere.

  Amirantha and Pug chatted about nothing particularly significant as they observed the city through which they passed. The docks and more disreputable inns and businesses gave way to a series of broad streets that were obviously occupied by middle-class to well-to-do businesses, many several stories tall, with the owning families occupying the top floors. Beyond that was a green belt of parks that was the absolute boundary between the lower and upper cities, for on the rising hillside large homes with sprawling yards and fountains gave way to even larger estates surrounded by high walls and sturdy gates. Most were guarded by soldiers wearing private livery, all attempting to outdo their neighbors in terms of ostentation. As opposed to the Imperial soldiers dispatched to meet them at the docks, these guardsmen wore highly polished chest guards and helms of steel. Some were painted in bright colors, while some affected gold trim and ridiculous plumes of feathers or dyed horsehair. Certainly the guards looked stout enough to keep vagabonds and rabble from disturbing their masters, but one glance from Amirantha to Pug revealed what the Warlock thought of these “fighting men,” should real trouble visit this island.

  Upward they traveled, until they reached the Imperial district, the buildings that surrounded the Emperor’s palace and offices. These were apartments and villas set aside for the functionaries and officers of the court, and all the buildings had been faced with white marble. “Centuries ago, this part of the city was like that below, buildings of stone and wood, but an emperor—his name is lost on me now—decided to make this the most beautiful city in the world, so he started hauling white stone from a massive quarry to the south. Over the years this entire district has been finished to match.” He looked at Amirantha with an expression that communicated
that what he said next was for the benefit of whoever eavesdropped on them. “It is said Rodric the Fourth, known as the ‘Mad King,’ was so envious he commanded his city of Rillanon be likewise finished in stone, but because he could have none of this fine white marble, he was forced to settle for a less than satisfactory riot of colors.” The truth, as Pug knew, was exactly the opposite. The palace had always been faced with white marble but it was only after Rodric had begun the beautification of Rillanon, a task mostly completed by his successor, King Lyam, that the Emperor of Queg, by name Jumillis, had gone into a frenzy to likewise beautify all the Imperial district. The only reason he had stopped at the Imperial district is that the quarry ran low on marble, and what was left was harbored against the need for stones to repair weather and other damage.

  Pug sat back silently for a moment; remembering King Rodric whom Pug had met on his first visit to Rillanon returned him to a dark and reflective mood he had managed to avoid since being sought out by Jim and Amirantha. Rodric was a sorely troubled but basically good man, driven mad by an illness no one could cure. Only lucid at the end of his life, he had named his cousin Lyam King and saved the nation from a bloody civil war on the heels of twelve years of fighting with the Tsurani.

  That put him to thinking of all those he had lost over the years: Kulgan, his old teacher, and Meecham, Kulgan’s companion; Father Tully, one of his first and wisest teachers; Princess Carline, whom he once thought he loved; and Laurie, one of his closest friends as a man, who wed the Princess. Laurie had died too young and left Carline a widow far too long. Lord Borric…He sighed and Amirantha looked at him with a questioning expression. Pug held up his hand to indicate it was of no importance, yet with the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, he knew it was. Katala, his first love, his first wife, lost to a wasting sickness no magic or art could cure. His first two children—William, his son, and Gaminia, the daughter of his heart—both lost at the end of the war with the Emerald Queen’s army. And now Miranda and his youngest, Caleb.

  Pug pushed aside deep and dark feelings and chided himself for not getting over his black moods. He knew from the day he had bargained with the gods that this would be his fate, yet he still resented it.

  The litters arrived at the entrance to the palace, saving Pug more dark reflection. He glanced over and saw Amirantha studying him. Without saying anything, the Warlock made it clear he understood Pug’s mind had been elsewhere.

  The three left the litters and immediately were taken to quarters while Jim was escorted to a reception in the Emperor’s Court. As part of his retinue, they could have been with Jim had he insisted, but Pug had decided there was work they could do, even from closely guarded quarters.

  Once they were alone, Pug nodded to Magnus, who went to a chair in the corner of their quarters and sat. Pug said to Amirantha, “These Quegans seem like hospitable enough folks.”

  Amirantha looked around the room, a large antechamber for entertaining and casual conversation; there were two doors each on the right and left walls as they entered, and a large vaulted window opposite the door to the hall. Amirantha said, “Lovely view,” and Pug joined him.

  “Yes,” said the magician, as they looked down on one of the Emperor’s many gardens. This one was dominated by a large pool in which several people were swimming or lounging near it.

  Amirantha’s eyebrows rose slightly when he realized the bathers were all nude, and he said, “Ah, is that the custom here?”

  Pug said, “The Quegans are Keshians by ancestry. The Imperial Court of Great Kesh is in a very hot climate, on table lands overlooking the Overn Deep in the heart of the Empire. Their attitudes toward dress are very different than those of us from the Kingdom. We are a cold-weather people most of the time and dress accordingly.”

  “I see,” said Amirantha. “I pass no judgment. I just find it…interesting.”

  “Ah,” said Pug with a smile. “Don’t let it be a distraction.”

  “Unless the librarians are pretty young women wearing no clothing, Richard,” he said, using Pug’s false name, “I think I shall be fine.”

  Pug laughed, but his eyes were still searching every inch of the room. They assumed they’d be spied upon as a matter of course, but didn’t know to what extent. It could be something as simple as someone at a listening post in a nearby room, overhearing what was said through a simple sound chamber, a tiny tube of metal behind a tapestry or a decorative plant, or it could be a very complex magic scrying spell. That was what Magnus was attempting to determine.

  Pug looked at his son, who opened his eyes and shook his head once. No magic they could detect was at play. “I think I’ll lay down for a while,” said Magnus as he stood up and moved to one of the nearby doors.

  Pug nodded agreement and went to another. Opening the door, he found a small but well-appointed room with a simple free-standing closet, a clean bed, one window looking down on a tiny patch of flowers, with a window opposite—another guest apartment from what Pug could tell. He saw no movement through the window and assumed that apartment was empty.

  Pug closed the door and lay down, gathering his thoughts.

  Since Miranda’s and Caleb’s deaths, any attempt at reflection seemed to plunge him into morbid introspection. He had fought certain battles within his entire life; losing Nakor had begun the struggle, but the death of his wife and son had defeated him.

  Still, there was work to do and he had to pull himself back from a deep cauldron of self-pity and rage toward the gods that shackled him. He had made this bargain, he reminded himself for a countless time; he could have left this life after battling Jakan, the demon disguised as the Emerald Queen, but elected to return and continue the struggle. His price was to watch all he loved die….

  He sat up. Something tickled the edge of his mind.

  Standing, he hurried to the door leading into Amirantha’s bedroom and quietly knocked. When the Warlock opened the door, Pug held up a warning finger before his lips, then motioned the Warlock to follow him to Magnus’s door. He knocked lightly again, and when his son answered made an encircling motion with his hand. Magnus nodded and motioned for them to enter.

  Once in the room, Magnus motioned again for the two other magic users to stand close to him. He closed his eyes a moment, then said, “We are shrouded. It is a very weak enchantment, as it might alert anyone watching closely.”

  “We’re being spied upon by magic?” asked Amirantha.

  Pug said, “My son has certain skills even beyond mine. As you can sense demons, he can sense the practice of magic, even to the point of understanding the spells and countering them.” He looked at his son with pride in his eyes. “It’s a rare gift.”

  “It’s a poor scrying spell being used, easily defeated. But the longer I maintain the illusion that we’re talking about which books to examine tomorrow, the more likely it is someone may discover my counter-spell. So, what is it?”

  Pug said, “Amirantha, I need to ask you something. We have spoken so much about what we know of demons and what we don’t know, occasionally a question gets set aside and we just forget to revisit it.

  “We spent so much time speculating on what happened to Maarg at Shila, we never got back to something you wished to discuss.” Then he said quickly, “You were surprised at the demon captain Jakan seizing the Emerald Queen’s body…”

  “Demonic possession is rare,” said Amirantha, also speaking softly and quickly. “And it has been limited to a particular sort of creature…I think of them as spirits or ghosts as much as the demons we face. The idea of a powerful demon lord, one of the great captains, or one of equal strength…” Amirantha shrugged. “I really don’t remember what I wanted to ask at the time. Mostly I am confused by it.”

  “Why?” asked Magnus.

  “It’s not typical of their behavior. Piecing together what you’ve told me, and what I learned from Gulamendis, I’m just now beginning to get a rough idea of demon society, if it can be called that. Rather, how thing
s are done in the demon realm. It’s chaotic by our standards, yet it has its own rules and boundaries. This demon possession by a powerful, magic-using demon…it doesn’t fit in.”

  He looked around, appeared frustrated. “This really is something we can’t speak of in a short time, but it’s good you brought it up. If you don’t find this one tome we’re seeking, do be alert for any other references to demon encounters or lore. It might provide us with additional insights.”

  Pug nodded. “We’ll talk more when it’s safe to do so.”

  They parted company and Magnus dispelled the illusion he had conjured in the counter-spell and they waited quietly in their rooms until they were summoned for supper with Jim.

  The meal was sumptuous in the Quegan fashion. Four long tables were established in a square, with just enough space between the corners to allow servants to move inside the open area bringing trays of food. Each guest was free to pick that which appealed to them or wave the servant past. Behind them young men and women moved with large vessels of wine and a very light ale.

  The servants were uniformly attired in a simple tunic that fell below the knees, cinched at the waist with a double cord. Pug thought of them as boys and girls as they were all young, none looking older than late teens, or early twenties, and all were exceptionally attractive.

  The nobles were all minor palace functionaries. Only the Imperial Chancellor was of note; he was there as a concession to Jim’s diplomatic rank. Normally a Kingdom Baron wouldn’t be entitled to so lofty a host, especially one sent on an academic mission with little political or military significance, but it was probable that the Quegans suspected Jim of being more than he appeared. Jim’s own spy network wasn’t the only one operating in the Bitter Sea, and no doubt he had attracted Quegan interest over the years as much as he had Keshian interest.

  The other nobles were all mid-level functionaries, and Pug had been paired with a very attractive middle-aged woman named Livia, who reclined on the large settee employed by the Quegans for dining. She waved away a servant holding a tray of candied fruits and said, “Too sweet. I like simple foods, I confess.”