Demonsouled Omnibus One

by Jonathan Moeller

  He slid from his horse, Gerald and Rachel following, the armsmen marching behind. Tobias strode up to the door and pounded on it with his sword hilt, his pommel leaving gouges in the polished wood. After a moment the door opened a crack, and a nervous-looking serving girl peered out.

  "Aye, sirs?" she said. "What is your business here?"

  "I am Sir Tobias Roland," announced Tobias, "Marshal of Knightcastle, and this is my brother, Sir Gerald Roland, armsmaster of Knightcastle. We will speak with Paul Korren, now."

  The serving girl blinked. "But...but the master said he should not be disturbed..."

  Tobias smiled, pushed open the door, picked up the serving girl, and set her to the side. She stared at him with shocked eyes. "Oh, your master will want to see us, my dear. Now be a good girl and stay out of the way." He turned, beckoned to the waiting armsmen. "Lads! If either the changeling or my nephew are in this house, find them."

  The armsmen trooped into the house and fanned out, hands on their swords hilts. Rachel heard crashes and bangs as they began searching, overturning furniture and looking in cupboards. There was a commotion further down the hall, and a thin man with a well-trimmed goatee stormed into sight, clad in the fine velvets and rich furs of a prosperous merchant.

  "What is the meaning of this?" raged the well-dressed man, glaring at them. "Do you not know who I am? I am Paul Korren, Master of the Merchants' Guild and a close friend of Lord Malden Roland, and he will hear of this outrage, I assure you!"

  "Really?" said Tobias, still smiling, though it did not reach his eyes. "I happen to dine with Lord Malden several times a week, and he rarely mentions you. He did talk about you once, though. He said you were a toad who would sell his own mother for a copper coin. But perhaps my father's standards for his close friends have slipped."

  "Your father?" said Korren, and then his eyes widened with recognition. "Sir Tobias! Forgive me. I...I did not recognize you."

  He was sweating, Rachel saw. The man was terrified.

  "Quite all right," said Gerald. Like Tobias, he was smiling, and it did not touch his blue eyes. "I'm sure a master merchant is far too busy to speak with the sons of his lawful lord. Perhaps I should mention that to my father, the next time I see him."

  Korren looked back and forth, licking his lips. "But what is this about, my lords? I am a loyal subject of Lord Malden. I have done nothing wrong."

  "Merely a precaution, you see," said Gerald. "If it turns out we have made a mistake, I will pay you recompense myself."

  "A mistake?" said Korren. "About what?"

  "My son was abducted from Knightcastle early this morning," said Gerald, "by a San-keth changeling. Some eyewitnesses saw a woman entering your wine cellar, carrying a baby. I will have my son back, master merchant, and if I have to search the house of every man in Knightcastle, I will do it."

  Korren's expression did not change, did not even flicker, but his face went pale.

  Rachel's hands curled into fists. He knew something about Sarah, he knew where the changeling had taken Aldane, and he had the temerity to lie about it...

  "My wine cellar?" said Korren. "But, my lords, I fear you are mistaken. My wine cellar is tiny. Surely not large enough to hide a creature so vile as a San-keth changeling and a stolen child. Let me speak with Lord Malden, and surely I can convince him of my innocence..."

  "Liar!" shrieked Rachel, stepping past Gerald. Korren looked at her, shocked. "Liar! You know who took him! You helped her! You helped her!"

  Her hands hooked into claws, and she would have leapt upon him, but Gerald caught her shoulder.

  "Who is this woman?" said Korren. "Bad enough that you have accused me unjustly of this crime! Must I endure the hysterics of some deranged wench?"

  "Have a care, master merchant," said Gerald, his tone cool, "how you speak of my wife."

  Korren flinched. "Your wife? You mean she's the apostate that..."

  He fill silent.

  "You called her an apostate," said Gerald, his voice even cooler. "The only ones to call her that are San-keth proselytes. Those who betray the gods of the Amathavian church, and turn to the worship of Sepharivaim, plotting murder and torture and bloodshed."

  "You think too much for me, brother," said Tobias. "All I know is that San-keth proselytes are dangerous scoundrels, and our father's lands are better off without them."

  Korren opened his mouth to answer, but a shout from the garden interrupted him.

  "My lords! You need to see the wine cellar at once!"

  Korren turned and ran for the door.

  Or he tried to, rather. Tobias's meaty fist lashed out and smashed into Korren's jaw. The master merchant struck the paneled wall and bounced off, staggering. Tobias barked an order, and two armsmen hurried forward, pinning Korren's arms behind his back.

  "Come, sir," said Tobias, still smiling that cold smile. "Let's see what sort of vintages you stock in your cellar, hmm?"

  ###

  Paul Korren’s wine cellar was small and dusty. The armsmen shoved aside a pair of wine casks, revealing a wooden trapdoor set on the stone floor.

  The trapdoor opened onto a scene Rachel remembered all too well from her nightmares.

  A shrine to Sepharivaim, the serpent god of the San-keth, lay hidden below the cellar. A bronze image of a great coiled serpent lay upon a wooden altar. Bronze bowls and daggers rested below the serpent idol, and the altar’s side bore dark, crusted stains.

  Sepharivaim was a jealous and cruel god, and demanded tribute in human blood from his servants. Was that why Sarah had taken Aldane? To kill him upon Sepharivaim’s bloodstained altars?

  The thought made her want to throw up. Or to rip out Korren’s eyes. Or both.

  “Oh, yes,” said Tobias, looking over the gloomy shrine. “A loyal subject of my father, indeed.”

  Korren looked back and forth between Tobias and Gerald. “I don’t…my lords, I swear it, I didn’t even know this was here. The servants must pray to the serpent god here. Or…or it must have been here when I bought the house, yes, that’s…”

  “Do you really think we are stupid enough to believe your lies?” said Gerald.

  Korren sputtered some more, and then his expression hardened, contempt flashing in his eyes. “Fools. You don’t know the might of Sepharivaim. He will crush you utterly.”

  “I have seen San-keth clerics slain,” said Gerald, “along with countless changelings. Sepharivaim must be a feeble god, if he has the loyalty of such pathetic servants.” He looked at the altar. “And such incompetent hirelings.”

  Korren spat. “Sepharivaim will make you pay for such insolence, you…”

  Tobias sighed and backhanded Korren across the face. The merchant fell with a cry of pain, blood flying from his lips. He slumped against the rough stone wall, and Tobias kicked him in the gut with a heavy boot. Korren fell, and would have toppled to the floor, but Tobias grabbed his collar with one hand and lifted him, Korren’s feet hanging over the floor.

  “You should listen to me,” said Tobias in a pleasant tone. “My brother enjoys talking, and discussing theology and morality. I am a much simpler man, and so I will state this plainly. You will tell me what I want to know, or I will hurt you until you do.”

  Korren spat in Tobias’s face. “I will never betray Sepharivaim! Never!”

  Tobias shrugged and threw Korren against the wall. “Fair enough.” He glanced at Gerald. “You may want to withdraw, brother. You always found this…distasteful, I recall.”

  “No,” said Gerald. “He knows what happened to my son. I will watch. Rachel, wait outside for us.”

  She hesitated. If Korren knew what had happened to Aldane, she wanted to watch him suffer. But she knew that look in Gerald’s eyes, so she took the ladder to the wine cellar and climbed the stairs to Korren’s garden.

  As soon as she stepped outside, she heard the screaming, and waited.

  And as it turned out, Tobias only had to break four of Korren’s fingers before he started talking.
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  ###

  “Korren didn’t know her name, or her purpose,” said Gerald, voice grim.

  Rachel watched him, her hands opening and closing over and over again.

  They stood in the solar of the Old Keep, Knightcastle’s oldest tower. Here, Rachel knew, the ancient Roland kings of Knightcastle had built their fortress, raising a keep to defend their people against the Malrag hordes unleashed after the fall of Tristafel. Now four men stood before the solar’s high windows. Gerald, pacing as he described what Korren had confessed. Tobias, scowling, his massive arms crossed over his chest.

  The third man was tall and slender, with hair so blond it was almost white, a marked contrast from his long black coat, cloak, trousers, and boots. Circan of Stormriver was Lord Malden’s new court wizard, sent after the San-keth had murdered Trocend Castleson last year. Rachel did her very best not to glare at him. She detested magic, and loathed wizards.

  Skhath, after all, had been an accomplished necromancer.

  The final man leaned heavily upon a silver-headed cane, the folds of his rich cloak and robe hanging loosely about his body. Malden Roland, Lord of Knightcastle and Gerald’s father, had aged greatly in the year since Sir Garain’s death. Rachel did not think it would be very long before Tobias took his father’s place as Lord of Knightcastle.

  "She arrived in the middle of the night," said Gerald, still pacing before the solar's high windows. "She ordered him to give her a horse, and when he questioned her, she threatened to kill him. So Korren gave her the horse, and led her to his smugglers' tunnel. She took the horse and fled. I saw the tracks in the tunnel myself."

  Lord Malden grunted. "Were you able to track her?"

  "She made for the main road leading north from Castle Town," said Gerald. He shook his head. "From there her tracks merged with a thousand others. She could have taken any five roads from there."

  "Did you kill Korren?" said Lord Malden. "Vile little rodent. All these years he is evaded my taxes with that smugglers' tunnel, and he kidnaps my grandson to boot. He deserves the blade. Or a dance at the end of a noose."

  "Not yet, Father," said Tobias. "He still might know something useful, so I've got him in a cell. If we get Aldane back, we'll execute him then."

  If? Rachel's hands trembled, and she tried to force them to stillness.

  "What are we going to do?" said Rachel. Her voice quavered, and she hated herself for it. She had to stay strong. Aldane needed her to be strong. "We're not...we're not just going to let Sarah go, are we?"

  "Of course not," said Gerald. "We will send word to every castle, town, village, and monastery in Knightrealm, with a description of Sarah and Aldane, and a bounty for his safe return and her head. I will organize the armsmen, to ride in parties along each of the roads she might have taken. A woman traveling alone with a baby will be unusual. She will almost certainly draw notice. We will find her, sooner or later."

  He was trying to sound confident, she knew, for her sake. But she knew him too well by now. He doubted they would ever find Aldane again.

  "There must," Rachel closed her eyes, trying to keep from weeping, "there must...be something else we can do. Something. Anything."

  "There is."

  Circan's voice was so soft Rachel scarce heard it.

  "What?" said Gerald.

  Circan's eyes were as pale as his hair, and they showed not a hint of emotion as they settled upon Rachel. "But you will not like it, my lady."

  "What is it, man?" said Gerald. "My son is missing. I will do whatever it takes to get him back."

  Circan hesitated, glanced at Lord Malden. The old lord nodded.

  "When Aldane was born," said Circan, "my lord Malden bade me to draw a vial of his blood."

  "Blood? Blood!" said Rachel. For a moment rage overrode her fear. She knew what kind of vile magic a necromancer could work with a vial of a victim's blood. Skhath had explained the spells, threatening to inflict them upon her should she ever betray him. "You touched my son, wizard? You used my son's blood for a spell. You scoundrel, I'll..."

  "Father," said Gerald, "why did you not tell me of this?"

  "Enough, daughter!" said Lord Malden. "And you as well, my son. Our house has made powerful enemies in the San-keth. Mazael dealt them a harsh blow, but I knew they would return someday. So I bade Circan to draw a vial of Aldane's blood. And yours, my daughter, and yours as well, my sons."

  "But why?" said Rachel. "Why would you do such a thing?"

  "Because," said Circan. "A vial of blood can be used to work terrible magic upon its owner. But it can also be used in a tracking spell."

  "A...tracking spell?" said Tobias, frowning. "You mean, you can use your magic to...find Aldane?"

  "In a manner of speaking," said Circan. "I cannot pinpoint the young lord's location with any degree of accuracy. But the vial of blood can act as a...compass, let us say. I can use it to follow him." He bowed in Rachel's direction. "Forgive me, my lady, for not mentioning this earlier. But I had to take caution. A skilled wizard can sense the presence of the spell, and work a counterspell that will destroy the vial of blood. But this Sarah of yours has no arcane skill. I can track your son with impunity."

  "Then what the devil are we waiting for?" said Gerald. "I will ride at once to find Aldane, and you will ride with me, wizard."

  "I shall come as well," said Tobias, rubbing his sword hilt.

  "No," said Lord Malden. "You will remain here, Tobias." Tobias started to protest, but Lord Malden kept talking. "I am an old man, and tired, and you are my heirs. You must bear the burden of ruling Knightcastle when I die. And if all my sons die before me...then Knightrealm will fall into chaos after my death. I will not have it."

  Tobias scowled, but gave a sharp nod.

  "Gerald," said Lord Malden, "you will take Circan, and as many men as you need."

  "No more than a hundred mounted armsmen, I think," said Gerald. "We can move faster that way. One woman and a baby on a horse can move very quickly."

  "She will have to stop sooner or later," said Lord Malden. His tone grew stern, formal. "Sir Gerald of house Roland! My grandson has been kidnapped. I charge you to find this changeling, slay her, and bring my grandson back to Knightcastle."

  "It shall be done, my lord," said Gerald.

  "And I will come as well," said Rachel.

  "No," said Gerald and Tobias and their father in unison.

  "But I must!" said Rachel. "I have to get Aldane back. I will have no peace in my heart until he is safe again."

  There was a silence.

  "She is your wife, Gerald," said Lord Malden. "I leave the decision to you."

  "This will be a hard journey, Rachel," said Gerald. "We shall have to ride fast. And Sarah might have allies she can call upon, other changelings, or maybe San-keth clerics. When we find her, there will be violence." His face twisted. "You could be hurt, or even killed..."

  "I don't care," said Rachel, and she clutched his hands. "Do you know what it would be like to stay here, waiting for news? Knowing that every rider might carry word of Aldane's death, or yours? I cannot wait. She took him from me! I have to get him back. I have to! If...if I wait here, I am sure that I will go mad."

  Gerald stared at her in silence for a long moment, his fingers kneading the back of her hands, emotions warring over his face.

  At last he nodded.

  ###

  An hour later a hundred mounted armsmen left Knightcastle's barbican. Sir Gerald Roland rode at their head, clad in his shining armor, a flowing blue cloak billowing from his shoulders. Circan was at his side, holding a crystal vial of blood in his right hand, muttering a spell under his breath.

  Rachel rode in the midst of the column, heart hammering.

  She would get Aldane back, or she would die.

  There were no other options.

  Chapter 7 - The Dragons

  Mazael Cravenlock lay asleep and dreamed:

  He stood on a battlefield, Lion in his hand, dead Malrags strewn at his f
eet. But some of his own men lay among them, their armor dented and torn by Malrag spears and axes.

  Lion burned in his fist, the blade shining with blue flames.

  Mazael turned as the Malrags rushed him.

  He leapt to meet them, Lion in both hands. A cut took the hand from a Malrag’s arm, and Mazael spun, ripping open the throat of another. Yet the still they came at him, swinging black axes and stabbing black spears. Mazael killed Malrag after Malrag, but more took their places, gray lips pulled back from yellowed fangs, colorless eyes narrowed in fury.