by Tony Donadio
“I am Incanus Thad,” the demon’s voice boomed. “Captain of the Horde of Zomoran, the Black Magus. Behold me, mortals, and despair — and die!”
The girl standing next to her screamed once, and fainted. The sound seemed to snap the lady mage out of her paralysis. She turned and ran from the scene, blindly, as fast as her legs would carry her.
Chapter 4 - The Return of the Horde
The Invasion Begins
The demon ignored the screams rising around it and turned its back on the crowd in the marketplace. It lifted its great axe with one hand and pointed it toward the hellgate. A beam of intense red light shot from it and vanished into the glowing dome.
In response, the roiling mass inside began to surge forward in earnest. It too, came into focus as it approached, resolving itself into rank upon rank of hellish soldiers in red and black armor. Some were human sized, with horns and volcanic red skin the color of lava, carrying shields, swords and spears; others were great battle demons, eyes burning with yellow flame and bearing wicked axes and mauls. The demons were large, some of them as much as ten feet tall, with bestial features of all kinds. Some were ursine, some canine, some insectoid, and some looked like nothing the people of Carlissa had ever seen before.
All along its circumference they marched through the surface of the dome with military precision. A dense fog that darkened the sky and blotted out the sun grew around them as they did. They chanted menacingly in a guttural, unfamiliar tongue, and raised their weapons against the people of the City of Rainbows.
Everyone who could, ran. A few of the guards and clerks in the amphitheater didn’t react quickly enough; they were scythed down like wheat by the advancing soldiers. With frightening speed the demonic troops formed a ring around the dome and around their captain.
More creatures marched into the city to fill their ranks from behind. Winged demons began to emerge from higher up on the surface as well, to fly in a tight circle around the growing army. Though most of them were smaller than their counterparts on the ground, they displayed a similar variety in horrific appearance.
A new group emerged from the shimmering hemisphere. Two demons flanked a tall, thin man in a black cape and armor, carrying an ebon staff. They were surrounded by a guard of the smaller red-skinned invaders.
Incanus Thad met them as a third demon descended from the flying contingent to join them. The Horde Captain faced the man, and then looked from him to the demon next to him. He clapped one closed claw to the opposite breast in salute.
“The beachhead has been established, My Lords,” it said in a booming voice. “There has been no resistance so far. None is yet developing.”
The demon he addressed nodded absently. It was smaller, not much more than seven feet in height, and had an enormous, serpentine head perched atop a long, sinuous neck. A single menacing eye looked out from a bony, ridged forehead.
“That will change quickly enough,” it said, in a voice thick with sibilant menace. It turned to the winged demon that had descended to join them. “Lieutenant Usnaroth, what is your report?”
Usnaroth repeated his Captain’s salute. It was larger than most of the other flying demons, scarcely smaller than Incanus Thad itself. It had a bat-like head and a powerful, ursine body.
“There were a few guards in the vicinity to witness the arrival of the gate, My Lord Borr,” it replied. “Some tried to run toward the palace to give an alarm. They have been slain, and no horns have yet been sounded. We have the element of surprise for now.”
“Let us not waste it, then,” the man in black said. “Captain, is your strike force ready?”
Incanus Thad scanned the sky above the dome, assessing the flight of demons that now circled above the gate.
“They wait only to follow my lead, Warlord Zomoran,” it confirmed.
“Let it be as we planned, then,” Zomoran said. His voice and his face were as hard as stone, and no trace of pity could be found in either. “Captain, you will take the elite winged demons to the palace to kill the royal family: the King, the Queen, and their three brats. And do make a point to give the elder prince my greetings when you slay him.”
He turned to face Usnaroth. “Lieutenant, you will take the rest of the airborne force to scout the city and establish a perimeter. Look for pockets of resistance forming, and destroy any you find before they can become rallying points. The Crimson Slayer will march a company of battle demons to the Silver Star to deal with the Archmage.”
Usnaroth and Incanus Thad saluted, claw to shoulder, and took to the air. The flying demons split into two groups and swarmed into their wakes. Their wings beat with a deafening noise, blotting out the sun like a host of enormous bats.
The demon at his left turned to Zomoran and nodded. Unlike the others it was largely human in appearance. A tall man dressed all in red, it wore a long sword at its belt, and an ostentatious cavalier hat that sported a crimson plume. Its face disappeared in shadow under the brim of that hat, so that none of its features were visible beneath it.
It drew its sword. The blade glowed with evil runes in the waning light. Its left hand was un-gloved, skeletal, and burned with an impossibly white-hot flame.
“You will be rid of your Archmage,” the creature called the Crimson Slayer said. “And remember our bargain, magus. One hundred souls for my blade to feast upon, plus any I may harvest from the battle.”
“You may sate yourself upon the people of the city,” Zomoran agreed. “The rest of your price will be paid on proof of Lenard Killraven’s death.”
The Slayer pointed to the massing troops, and a line of the gathering battle demons stepped forward. Without another word, it strode away toward the southern arch of the amphitheater. The enormous creatures fell into lumbering step behind it.
“That leaves the two of us,” Borr hissed. “As we agreed, I will remain here at the gate to command the invasion. I assume that your plans remain unchanged?”
Zomoran raised an arm, and a company of the lava-skinned soldiers behind him snapped immediately to attention.
“No change,” he concurred.
He turned to the nearest of the soldiers. It promptly drew a flaming sword and knelt before him.
“We will be paying a visit to the Grand Academy,” Lord Zomoran explained. “It just so happens that the regents are meeting there this morning, and I have unfinished business with them.” A hint of amusement flickered briefly across his face. “I believe that some changes in the administration, and in the faculty, will be in order after today.”
He made a rising gesture with his hands. The officer came to his feet, face hot with anticipation.
“Mercy shall not be required, Colonel Y’Thra,” he added. “Your Hellmen may take spoils as you please.”
The Lady Mage’s Flight
The lady mage ran. An icy wave of fear coursed through her as she sprinted toward the gate to the north road. She didn’t look back.
The crowd milled around her in fright and confusion. Some bolted toward the gates as well, and she had to fight not to be shoved aside or trampled. Others watched in horrified fascination at the events unfolding in the amphitheater.
Hellgate, her mind repeated in numb terror. She knew what was about to come through that dome, and what would happen to anyone nearby when it did. She was determined not to be one of them.
She ran through the gate and onto the north road. The streets of Lannamon fanned out before her, curving away from the marketplace into a series of terraced lines to the north and east. They paralleled the firth at ever increasing heights that rose toward the cliffs surrounding the city.
She took the clearest way she could find to escape. That proved to be the road that rose most steeply into the Upper City to the north. She kept running, heedless of the growing fire in her legs and lungs as she climbed the difficult slope.
She hadn’t gone far before she heard the confusion behind her erupt into panic. Again, she didn’t look back. She knew what she would see if she
did: a horde of infernal monsters emerging from the dome to attack the city. Her fears were confirmed when she heard the harsh, militaristic cries and marching of the demonic soldiers. And she heard the screams of gawkers as they finally realized what was truly happening — and they, too, tried to flee.
She heard a loud buzzing. A winged demon passed overhead, a grisly insectoid figure with mandibles like giant pincers. Before she could react it veered to the side, turning to fly in a protective ring around the mustering army. She kept running.
A gray fog had formed around the center of the city as the hellgate took shape. Now, as she climbed the sloping road to the north, she ran suddenly through its edge. She blinked as the sun shone brightly around her once again.
The next few minutes merged into a desperate blur. She dodged frantically around startled riders, carriages, and passersby. She cut across lawns when she found her way blocked. She reached the line of the terraces and raced up the staired walkways into the Upper City.
She ran for as long as she could. When at last she couldn’t continue she collapsed to the ground. Her chest heaved in great gasps as she tried to catch her breath. She finally risked a look back.
In her mad rush she had climbed at least a hundred and fifty feet above the shore of the firth. She should have had a clear and unobstructed view of the docks and the marketplace below. Instead she saw a darkening cloud of mist that hung low to the ground, obscuring the amphitheater and everything around it. She thought she could make out the light from the hellgate shimmering in its midst, but she wasn’t sure.
“Miss, are you all right?”
She turned, startled, and looked around. She found to her surprise that she was lying on the steps before the main gate of the Grand Academy of Lannamon.
A palace guard was kneeling at her side. He was a young man with a brusque manner, but the concern in his voice sounded genuine. A dozen people stood nearby. A few were looking at her, while others were staring into the city below. The guard glanced down at the firth, and then back to her.
They haven’t seen them, she realized. The cloud is hiding the arriving horde. They don’t know what’s coming yet.
“Did you run all the way up here from the Lower City?” he asked. “Do you know what’s happening down there?”
She nodded helplessly. Her chest continued to heave as she gasped for breath, but the fire in her lungs was finally beginning to subside. She tried to rise, but her legs gave out beneath her.
She fell into a sitting position, leaning hard against the guard’s side. He looked startled and a little abashed by the unexpected contact, but caught her shoulder with a strong hand to steady her. A crowd was beginning to gather around them.
“Attack,” she managed to gasp out. “D-demons.”
A woman standing nearby shrieked.
“That’s absurd,” a man snorted derisively. He wore a purple suit of a kind that had become fashionable among the lesser nobility during the last year. “The woman’s addled. There hasn’t been a demon attack in Carlissa in centuries.”
“What do you think it is, then?” another man asked.
He looked down at the cloud below and affected a look of critical evaluation.
“Must be a fire in the marketplace,” he said at last. “They’ll have it put out in no time. Nothing for us to worry about up here.”
The lady mage shook her head. “I’m — I’m not — not addled,” she gasped in exasperation.
As her breathing quieted she found she was able to make out the distant commotion in the Lower City again. The others turned at the sound. Muffled screams were carrying up the slope, and people could be seen running out in panic through the edge of the cloud in all directions.
“Baron Geld is right,” a woman chimed in. She wore the robes of an academy professor, and if possible her manner was even more disdainful and supercilious than his. “The demons are nearly extinct. There might be a few left, holed up somewhere in the Walls, or in the frozen wastes of Narr-Venn. But that’s thousands of miles away.”
Baron Geld nodded in agreement. “Besides, there’s no way one could have approached the city without warning.”
The guard turned to face him.
“What about the dragon that attacked the Cathedral a few months ago?” he asked thoughtfully. “There was no warning of that either, and it nearly killed the two princes. If a dragon could sneak up on the city, why not a demon?”
The lady mage shook her head. “It’s not just one,” she said.
She discovered with relief that she could speak again. She struggled to get up, and with the guard’s support she rose shakily to her feet.
“And they didn’t need to sneak up on the city,” she added. “They formed a hellgate in the amphitheater.”
“Ridiculous,” the professor countered. “Do you understand what you’re saying? What kind of magic that would require?”
“Fully,” the lady mage retorted.
She held up her left arm and waved it angrily in front of her. She was still clutching the amulet she’d bought in the marketplace, its chain wrapped tightly around her singed hand and fingers. Although not as brightly, the bluesteel design was shining with the same light as before.
“I’m a craftmage,” she said hotly. “Do you understand what this means?”
“That you’ve got a magic light trinket?” Baron Geld replied derisively.
“It’s preposterous,” the professor repeated. She was looking at the amulet, but her tone had suddenly become uncertain. “Who could summon that kind of magic? Who would want to?”
Icy realization closed around the lady mage’s heart like a claw. The color drained from her face.
“Zomoran,” she whispered. “The demon said it served Zomoran.”
Her eyes widened. She turned abruptly to look at the inscribed lintel above the entrance to the Grand Academy.
“Oh, my god,” she said, in a voice of dawning horror. “They’ll come here!”
Renewed panic cut through her exhaustion. She tore herself free from the guard’s supporting grasp and stumbled again into the street. Running as fast as her trembling legs would carry her, she began to make her way down the road to the east.
The guard started to go after her, but stopped. His orders had been to find out what was going on, and to report back to his lieutenant. After a moment of indecision, he reluctantly made his way back up the stairs and through the academy gate.
Orion’s Caution
The guard stepped quietly through the door and into the classroom by the garden. The growing commotion outside was testing even Dame Marjeune’s ability to maintain discipline. The buzz of a dozen excited conversations filled the room. It died abruptly as Orion and the lieutenant turned to meet him.
“Something is going on in the city center, down by the amphitheater,” he reported. “A dark cloud’s formed around it, so it’s impossible to see anything clearly. People are running out of it and screaming in panic.”
The lieutenant nodded. “Sounds like a fire in the marketplace,” he said.
“It does,” the guard concurred. “Except for one thing. It was very odd. I met a woman who was running up the street from the disturbance. She collapsed in front of the academy gate. I tried to help her. She looked terrified, and said she was running from a demon attack.”
An explosion of laughter ran through the room. Dame Marjeune, face darkening like a storm cloud, turned to the students and began to admonish them sternly.
The lieutenant waved his hand in dismissal. “Sounds like a crazy woman. Demons in the city center! What an imagination! Did they just drop in out of the sky?”
The guard shrugged. “She said something about a hellgate,” he continued. “She was carrying some kind of glowing talisman, too. Seemed to think it meant the whole city was about to come under attack.”
Orion’s head snapped sharply around. His eyes fell hard onto the guard’s, who returned his suddenly intense gaze with uncertain surprise.
&nb
sp; “Tell me everything you saw and heard,” he ordered. “Don’t leave anything out.”
The lieutenant turned to Orion, clearly annoyed. “It’s only a fire —” he began.
Orion held up a hand. “Most likely,” Orion interrupted. “But please humor me for now.” He allowed a self-deprecating smile to touch his lips. “If it turns out I’m just being paranoid, then I’ll buy you and your men a round later to make up for it.”
The lieutenant looked at him with disapproval. Finally he nodded.
“All right,” he said reluctantly. “Seeing as you’re a scholar who studied under the Archmage and all. And I could do with a pint once we get off duty. Just remember that I’m in command here, not you. If any orders are to be given, they come from me. Clear?”
“Clear,” Orion agreed. “And you’re right, of course, lieutenant. I didn’t mean to challenge your authority.”
He turned back to the guard. “What kind of talisman was it? Was it bluesteel, by any chance, and glowing with light bluish light?”
“Yes, it was,” the guard replied. The lieutenant’s eyebrows arched in surprise.
“It was an amulet, with some kind of bluesteel design on it,” he went on. “Shining just like you said. Her hand was burned where she was holding it. She said she was a craftmage, and that it proved what she was saying.”
“What exactly did she say it proved?” Orion persisted. “To whom?”
“One of the professors. She said a hellgate had appeared in the amphitheater, inside the cloud. They were arguing about whether that was possible and how much magic it would take.”
Orion felt a cold sweat break out on the nape of his neck. He tried to keep himself calm.
“What else did she say?” he asked.
“She said she saw a demon, and that it said it served Zomoran.”
“Lord Zomoran of Westreach?” the lieutenant blurted. “The one the Inquisition tried to take for heresy? Who summoned a dragon to attack the Cathedral, and nearly killed the princes?”