by Joe Jackson
“How many of the people in the palace speak my language?” Kari inquired. “You speak it very well, I have to say.”
Durisha smiled briefly. “Only a handful, though you may speak with any of them in the infernal tongue,” the harmauth answered. “My sister and I were taught by Her Majesty from a young age, and she keeps us fluent by changing languages often. I will let her explain the reasons if she so desires.”
Kari nodded, not wanting her companionable escort to get in any sort of trouble. The inner courtyard was gorgeous, an immaculate garden being tended to by a number of delicate, beautiful women who looked vaguely half-elven but for their white, feathered wings. Kari somehow knew what she was looking at was not a group of angels, but to the casual observer, it surely appeared to be so. The women wore light, flowing white garments that were perfectly modest and yet accentuated their feminine forms in striking ways. They bowed their heads or smiled to the passing harmauth and demonhunter, but offered no words.
In the middle of the garden was a fountain with a statue in it, reminiscent of the one Kari had seen in the central plaza of the holy city of Sarchelete. In the center of this, however, stood an angelic male, armored and carrying a greatsword that Kari recognized despite having only seen it once before. It was a model of the very blade King Koursturaux carried, and Kari felt herself snapped suddenly and cruelly back to reality as the image before her fell into place in her mind. My people are not demons, we were conquered by them, Uldriana’s voice rang in Kari’s ears, and the reality of who and what King Koursturaux was came back to the fore, overriding all of the charm and grace Kari had witnessed until now.
Here stood a statue of an angelic being, a stark reminder to anyone who passed through this garden that King Koursturaux was a conqueror. Kari might have suspected otherwise, but the male in this beautiful stone rendition looked nothing like the demon king, and that left the demonhunter with only one plausible conclusion. It made her wonder about the angelic-looking women around the courtyard, what they were, where they’d come from, and how they had taken to serving the demon king so willingly.
“Beautiful, is it not?” Durisha asked, shaking Kari free of her thoughts. “Well, come along, Lady Vanador, we do not want to delay Her Majesty’s plans.”
The front entrance of the palace, a wide, high double door that would easily allow even the tallest harmauth or erestram to pass through, was unguarded. Kari looked up at the castle’s high towers and flapping pennants, depicting the sword that the demon king wielded entwined by a single red rose as their standard. Kari recalled the tales of Celigus’ marble palace in Sansrigar, and wondered if this amazing feat of architecture before her was the inspiration for the other demon king’s home. The smooth stone reflected the strong sunlight, casting great beams of nourishment to the garden, and keeping the place pleasantly warm despite the later season.
Durisha escorted Kari into the palace itself and down a quiet, cool passageway into the deeper portions. Hallways crisscrossed the building’s main floor, with decorative wooden doors everywhere. The interior was cool, the marble floor making Kari’s feet tingle after her trek up the hot dirt road to the palace. The ceilings were nearly twelve feet above her, stretching well over Durisha as the harmauth walked fully extended. The harmauth allowed Kari to look around a little, but kept her headed toward the north side of the castle.
An exquisite double wooden door inlaid with gold and numerous crimson gems was their destination, and Durisha listened before opening them. “Court is in session, so keep quiet until you are called forward to speak. When we enter, take a place to the side and wait there. I will be expected to go stand beside Her Majesty.”
“Understood,” Kari said. Durisha handed Kari her pack and her child, and the demonhunter followed the harmauth in when she opened the door as quietly as she could. Kari stepped off to the side and found a row of chairs against the wall. When she saw that there were others seated even in the presence of the king, she simply bowed toward the throne and then sat down.
Durisha approached the throne boldly, and the proceedings stopped for a minute. The harmauth reached the base of the raised dais on which the throne sat, and she bowed deeply to her monarch. King Koursturaux nodded and waved a hand casually to her side, and Durisha climbed up the steps and took her place beside the throne, opposite another female harmauth that had to be her twin sister Surisha.
The proceedings continued, but were in beshathan, and Kari quietly cursed the luck. She had hoped she might overhear some things in infernal that would be of use or at least interest to her. She looked over the magnificent crimson form of the demon king again, and saw a bit of a contrast to seeing her in Anthraxis. Here, the king sat on a stately, beautifully-sculpted, high-backed throne covered with cushions and pelts in black and crimson. Kari saw that Koursturaux preferred things in the same colors as her body, and it brought her back to wondering if that might be why Seril chose the coloration of her soldiers when she created them.
What was the relationship between the two? Kari wondered. Sonja had mentioned, in the debriefing after the hunt for the Tilcimer, that she had seen Koursturaux and Seril speaking in the depths of the Devil Queen’s complex. Sonja was highly empathic and even a bit telepathic, and she was sensitive to thoughts and feelings that lingered in a place. She wasn’t able to tell Kari what Koursturaux and Seril had spoken about, but the fact that they spoke together and in an odd language Sonja didn’t recognize was concerning. The fact that Sonja said the lingering image of Koursturaux had stared directly at her was terrifying. Just how had the demon king managed that across space and time?
King Koursturaux began to finally speak in response to all that was being said to her, and the mallasti and elestram subjects who had argued before her kept bobbing their heads to her words. Soon, they both bowed gracefully before her and said their thanks – one of the few things Kari could understand in the beshathan tongue. They were escorted from the chamber, and then one of the angelic-looking women called forth the next group of petitioners. Kari wondered how long she would be expected to sit through the proceedings. Glancing around, she quickly intercepted Uldriana’s attempt to get fussy with an impromptu feeding. Thankfully, no protests were raised about her doing so in the king’s audience chamber, though Kari’s opened breastplate hiding both child and chest might have had a lot to do with that.
The proceedings dragged on for a little while, and then King Koursturaux stood up. All in the chamber bowed to a knee, and she waved a hand casually in dismissal before she turned and exited the chamber herself. Surisha followed the monarch, but Durisha returned to Kari and squatted down before her.
“Her Majesty will see you at supper,” she said. “In the meantime, Basirri, her court sorceress, will get you settled in a guest chamber, and then show you around as time permits.”
A mallasti female leaning on a walking staff came forward then, her face painted in white so that it almost resembled a skull, which was only amplified by the fact that her eyes were red. She wore a fancy robe, though not so spectacular as the one Emma wore in the presence of the Overking. Basirri was stocky and thick-furred like most mallasti, her hair the spotted light brown that was closer to a hyena’s. Her black ears flicked a couple of times before she found her voice. “You will come with me–”
“Basirri,” Durisha interrupted before shaking her great horned head. “Speak her tongue.”
Kari hadn’t even registered that the mallasti had spoken infernal, and she took that as a good sign. It meant she was learning to recognize and translate the words faster, meaning she was getting more familiar with it, even if she was still far from fluent.
The mallasti grunted. “Greetings, Lady Vanador,” she said stiffly with a bow of her head. “Please come with me, I shall show you your chambers and then give a brief tour of the palace, as Her Majesty has requested.”
The tone of her voice was the same, but it was amazing to Kari to contrast the languages in the same context. Infernal was an im
perious language that seemed devoid of niceties and grace, even though words could be inserted to evoke the appearances of such. It was the language of conquerors, she mused, and that meant it was designed to put people in their place, to let them know who was in command at all times. No wonder the mallasti in Moskarre hated speaking it so much, she thought.
“After you,” Kari answered, not wanting to delay things with her musings.
Basirri took Kari’s bag and then gestured for her to follow. Kari lifted Uldriana up to her shoulder, and didn’t miss Durisha waggle her fingers at the little girl. She followed the mallasti sorceress to the west end of the castle, where she was afforded an open room with several couches, a fireplace, and a bed that was probably large enough for two harmauths. There was a crib there as well, and Kari found that to be a nice gesture.
“A crib has been provided, as was ordered,” the mallasti woman said, gesturing toward the wooden bed. It looked exquisitely carved, the work of the amazing hands of some talented elestram carpenters, most likely. “Guest quarters are cleaned around midmorning by the staff. If you have need of anything, you may tug the cord beside the bed to ring for a chamber servant at any time. I will leave your bag here, and take you to see the east sitting room, the dining hall, the privy chamber, and the baths, the last of which I would advise you to partake of before you dine with Her Majesty.”
Kari snorted at that, but she found the smile of the mallasti female disconcerting with the face paint. “So, what does a court sorceress do for someone as powerful as Her Majesty?”
“Hmmm? Oh, I keep abreast of situations involving the use of the arcane, whether by my people, the elestram, or anyone else who resides in Mas’tolinor. Issues that are not easily dealt with are referred to Her Majesty for summary judgment. However, most of the responsibility falls to me to be taken care of. Mas’tolinor is, as you can imagine, an expansive realm, and to keep posted on all of the arcane goings-on would take far too much of Her Majesty’s time.”
“So you’re like the king’s High Council of Wizardry,” Kari said, comparing the mallasti to the wizards of Citaria who kept the balance among arcane practitioners.
“I am her minister in charge of all things arcane, I cannot put it more plainly than that,” Basirri said, her impassive gaze making the words less condescending than they sounded.
She led Kari to the opposite end of the castle, where a library with cushioned chairs and couches and a grand piano constituted the east sitting room. It was impressive, to say the least, and Kari couldn’t help but notice that most of the décor was, again, in the same color scheme as the demon king’s body. Kari appreciated the crimson and black, but wondered why everything was in the same two colors, aside from things crafted of wood or the marble walls themselves.
The dining hall was smaller than Kari expected, cozy and intimate, which suggested Her Majesty didn’t typically host large dinners in it. It was reminiscent of Earl Garant’s breakfast table, and Kari recognized that in sharing dinner with the demon king, they would likely be alone and very close to each other. The demonhunter had gotten an image in her mind of sitting at a long table for perhaps a couple dozen people, letting her and the monarch sit at opposite ends while they ate and fenced with words. This, however, said otherwise.
The privy chamber was sort of like her private water closet back home, comprised of simple indoor plumbing that kept it free of persistent stenches. This one, assuming there was more than one, was also along the outer wall of the castle, allowing for a window that kept the room bright in the sunshine. Considering what had passed for a privy or even an outhouse in some of the places Kari had stayed over the courses of her two lives, this was among the finest she’d seen. The numerous sinks and mirrors were a nice touch, and an adjoining door led to the bath chamber, which was the next thing Basirri showed her.
Durisha was in the bath chamber when Kari entered, which was fortuitous. The harmauth was happy to watch Uldriana while Kari took a bath and washed her clothes. Basirri departed, and Kari took her little girl into the bath with her when she was done washing. She waded around in the pool-like bath with her daughter. There was no waterfall for showering like the Overking’s palatial bath chambers, but there were the signs of indoor plumbing involved again, and Kari was suitably impressed. When she considered the fact that King Koursturaux was reputed to be over ten thousand years old, it wouldn’t have surprised Kari to find her palace outdated or even primitive. She was glad neither was the case.
Once Uldriana was washed and Kari’s clothes dried, she got dressed and in her armor once more. “You will not be permitted to bring weapons into Her Majesty’s presence at supper,” Durisha advised when Kari was getting prepared.
“Should I not have taken them in the audience chamber?”
“You are permitted to be armed in the palace, just not at the supper table,” she clarified.
“Will you and Surisha be at the table?” Kari asked.
Durisha shook her head. “We take our meals with the servants when Her Majesty hosts guests. You two will doubtless have much to discuss that does not concern us, and that Her Majesty does not wish to fall on idle ears. Enjoy your intimate time with her, and make certain that you touch on the issues you would like to discuss; do not simply be a target for questions. Her Majesty has afforded you a great courtesy in granting a face-to-face meeting; be certain you take advantage of it.”
“I will,” Kari said, amused at the way the harmauth bodyguard gave her the same advice as Celigus and even Amastri. Kari glanced at Uldriana, the girl’s head draped on her shoulder with her eyes closed. “I should put her down for a nap before I’m called to supper with Her Majesty.”
Durisha nodded. “I will see you again in the east sitting room after supper. Until then.”
Kari bowed her head to the harmauth and followed her out to the hallway. Durisha went east, and Kari retraced her steps back west to her guest chamber. The palace was beautiful and quite comfortable, a place Kari could certainly get used to visiting.
But then a chill went down Kari’s spine when, in the distance, she heard the echoes of a pained scream.
Chapter V – The Breaking of Bread
Kari was escorted to the dining hall just as the sun was approaching the horizon. The hue of the sun as it set cast the crimson and ebony coloration of many of the palace decorations in an eerie light. Kari wasn’t sure that was the intent, but it was the effect it achieved regardless. It was almost as if things were arranged to say that even the light of the sun – of Sakkrass, she mused – was under Koursturaux’ control here. That alone was enough to give Kari a shiver.
She was hungry, and hoped that there wouldn’t be a significant delay before she and her host began to eat. Basirri led Kari into the dining hall, which was brightly lit by a roaring fire in the hearth and a bit by the remnants of the setting sun outside the north-facing windows. The table was set for two, and Kari saw that while one of the chairs was high-backed, decorative, and clearly meant for the monarch, the other was wide with padded arms. It looked like it would be perfect for Kari to have support for her arms while holding Uldriana.
That thought was dispelled a few moments later when Durisha entered the room. “Allow me to watch your little one for you while you share supper with Her Majesty.”
Kari wasn’t sure exactly how she felt about that. While she did trust Durisha somewhat, and she knew the harmauth was enthralled with her child, it would leave Kari feeling disarmed, in a sense, to not have her child with her. The fact that she truly was disarmed only added to the discomfort, and she rubbed a hand along her hip where her scabbard would normally be. After a moment of fidgeting, she handed her daughter over to the ram-woman, and Uldriana began to giggle and coo almost immediately.
The other door to the dining hall opened then, and Durisha turned and bowed to her king. Koursturaux’ face was a mask of impassiveness, but there was an air of demand in her stride. It was all Kari could do to look into those solid black eyes that
reflected the light in the room, but she couldn’t read whatever the demon king was thinking. Koursturaux was dressed in a beautiful garment that was far less modest than her court attire. It was a black wrap that went around her neck, covered her breasts, looped around her back, and then met before her lower belly, where it fell toward the floor in a long and decorative strip. It showed off her navel, the fine lines of her belly muscles – not as sculpted as Kari’s own, but enticing nonetheless – and the shapeliness of her hips and shoulders. As alien as her coloration and horns may have made her, the woman was a stunner.
“You are dismissed,” she said shortly to Durisha, the authority of command in her voice despite the offhanded way she spoke.
The harmauth bowed again and departed with Uldriana in her arms, and Kari watched their egress before turning back to the demon king. She bowed respectfully toward Koursturaux and greeted her, “Your Majesty.”
The demon king stepped just inches away from Kari, forcing the demonhunter to look up to meet her gaze. “Let us first dispense the unpleasantries, Lady Vanador,” she said, and Kari felt her hackles rise. “Should you ever tell me to shove something up my arse again, that will be the end of our relationship – and your life. Do I make myself clear?”
A few retorts came to mind, but Kari deflected any sense of foolish pride or even the anger that had flared when she’d first read Koursturaux’ letter. She bowed her head. “Forgive me, Your Majesty. I was caught up in emotion when I said those things, still angry and scared because my brother-in-law was badly injured, and I thought you might have had something to do with it. Amastri even offered me the chance to take back what I’d said, and I didn’t. So I offer you a sincere apology.”