by Tony Donadio
A long line of warrior priests marched down the road from the Cathedral. The Knights of the Light had already reached the King and Queen, forming a hastily assembled guard around their position. They were the elite of their order, mounted warriors with both great skill at arms and strength in the Divine Magic. The wall of white fire that had routed the demons had been their conjuring, driving like a wave before them as they galloped in to attack.
“Your arrival could not have been more timely, Captain General,” Danor said. He clasped Darren’s arm, hand to forearm. “The crown welcomes your aid with all its heart.”
“It is my duty and my honor, Your Highness,” he replied. “Together, perhaps we can finally strike a blow against these monsters!”
The Queen embraced him and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Augustus,” she said. Her voice was thick with emotion. “We were beginning to despair of anyone coming to help.”
“All except the King,” General Banderman said. His voice rang with pride and admiration. “He kept driving us on, still believing when the rest of us had lost faith.”
Augustus Darren bowed his head. The others saw with surprise that there was a look of shame on his face, but anger burned brightly in his eyes as well.
“I deeply regret the delay, Your Highness,” he said. “There was a … disagreement among the leadership at the Cathedral about what action should be taken.”
Elena frowned. “What happened?” she asked.
“The high priest left orders that the Church would no longer render support of any kind to the Crown,” Darren explained. General Banderman suppressed an oath. “Some of the senior clergy insisted on obeying that order in the most dishonorable way possible.”
Danor nodded, noting that the Captain General’s normally immaculate armor was stained with blood. “I take it that disagreement has been resolved?”
“It has. The cowards have been dealt with. As Captain General of the Order of Light, I have assumed command of the Church of the Divine in Carlissa. I now lead its forces in the city. They will rally to your banner.”
Banderman shook his head in agitation. “When I get my hands on Salmanor Darden —” he began. Darren cut in before the general could finish.
“You should know, Your Highness, that it is my intention — if we survive this battle — to place the high priest under arrest for treason against the Covenant. He will face the judgment of his own Inquisition.”
Elena’s eyes widened. “You suspect him of betraying us? Of being in league with the enemy?”
Darren nodded. “To leave such an order, right before a demon attack on the palace? It strains credulity to believe that a coincidence.”
Danor shook his head. “Why did he prosecute Zomoran for heresy, then? That makes no sense.”
“Zomoran? What does he have to do with this?” Darren asked.
“He leads an army of Hellmen to take the Grand Academy,” Elena said. “We also believe him responsible for the hellgate allowing the demons to enter the city.”
“He has allied himself with a powerful demon lord named Borr,” Danor continued. General Banderman started in surprise. “There can be no doubt that Emil Zomoran is behind all of this. The Captain of the Horde even declared the invasion in his name.”
Darren’s eyes narrowed. His face was hard.
“So this attack is his doing, then,” he said. “Another traitor to be brought to justice —”
“Your Holiness!” a voice called loudly.
Darren stopped, turning. A young courier in the livery of the Order of Light was forcing his way through the crowd. When he reached them he fell to one knee.
Darren nodded to him. “Rise and report, Kal,” he said briskly.
Kal rose swiftly to his feet. “Major Dennis sends word. His lookouts have spotted a large force of battle demons. They’re headed this way. At least a hundred of them. He says they clearly intend to break the charge and repel it — back to the Cathedral, or to the Palace. Or both.”
“How long?”
“Ten minutes at most, sir.”
Darren turned to the King. “We will need to array our forces, my liege. And quickly. Can your wizards flank the monsters on the north?”
General Banderman nodded. “The palace guard can cover them, as before. The warrior priests can take the south.”
Elena was gazing out over the city to the east. “Danor …” she said tentatively.
Darren nodded at the general. “And the knights — yours and mine — can take the center. We’ll surround their force and crush it.”
Danor frowned. “This is a tactical blunder on their part. And coming from this demon lord, it surprises me. A hundred battle demons is a formidable force, but it’s not enough to break our charge. He’s sending them right into the jaws of an easily set trap.”
“Danor,” Elena said again. Her voice was louder this time, and more insistent.
He turned swiftly to face her. “What is it, my love?”
They all looked as she pointed. In the distance, they could see two masses of roiling clouds moving in across the firth. Like enormous doors of dark grey, they seemed to be sliding slowly closed, shutting out the rest of the world. Nothing was visible through them beyond the eastern outskirts of the city. Red lightning flashed within them, lighting the sky with a glow of hellish light.
“It may not be such a miscalculation,” she said slowly. “Those clouds have been surrounding the city while we fought.”
“Why?” Banderman asked.
“To conceal a second attack force.”
Darren nodded. “I think the Queen is right,” he said tightly.
“Why?” Banderman asked again. “What makes you so sure?”
Darren’s lips were drawn into a thin, grim line. “Have you ever fought a dragon, General?” he asked.
Banderman shook his head. His face had gone suddenly pale.
Darren pointed. “That glow in the clouds … it’s dragon fire, if I’ve ever seen it. And I have.”
“By the light,” the general whispered.
“This isn’t just an invasion of demons,” Elena said softly. “Zomoran’s gathered the remnants of the Dark to lead against us as well. He’s trying to undo the Taming.”
The Guards of Company Twenty-Three
Randia watched as Lieutenant Kay opened the door to the guard tower and peered out. She heard the clash of battle in the distance, but there didn’t seem to be any fighting nearby. The ringing of the Cathedral bells carried through the city, along with the sounding of the palace horns. Kay turned to look over her shoulder.
“I think the warrior priests have joined the battle,” she said. “That’ll draw even more of the creatures away from here. We should be clear, at least for now.”
Randia nodded. A tear of pride ran down her face as she listened to the sounds from the city.
“That’ll be my father at their head,” she said. “No one else would have the courage to lead a charge against an army of demons.”
“You think your family survived the attack on the Palace, then?” Stefan asked tentatively. His tone was hopeful.
She nodded again. “Mother, for certain. She has Grandmother’s command of the elements. Those thunderclaps are hers, calling a storm down on the enemy.”
“And the horns from the palace sound the King’s Call,” Kay agreed. “With help from the Cathedral he might be able to drive through the blockade.”
Stefan pointed.
“He might, if he’s swift. See? Most of the demons are still mustering around the amphitheater. They’re only now starting to move out, to take and control positions within the city.”
“We have a window of opportunity, then,” Kay agreed. “But we’ll have to move quickly. What is our mission, Your Highness?”
“We need to reach the Silver Star Adventurer’s Academy,” Randia replied. “And the protection of the Archmage.”
“That may not be safe,” one of the soldiers said cautiously. “There’s a large
force of demons moving through the city below us. We could see them from the tower. They look like they’re headed for the Star as well.”
Randia and Stefan exchanged glances.
“Do they think they can take the academy?” he asked. He sounded skeptical.
Randia shook her head. “If they have the power to do that, then we’re all doomed.”
“It doesn’t matter much either way,” Stefan said. “If they’re cutting us off from reaching him.”
“I don’t think so,” Kay said. “The demons are climbing up from the Lower City. We can cut along the terrace behind us, and then down the stairs at the eastern end of the bluff. That’ll let us reach the Star from above.”
“Shouldn’t we strike west, though?” Will asked. “If the King and Queen and the priests are all driving toward us, shouldn’t we try to bring the princess to them?”
“It’s too risky to take her into a battle zone,” Stefan said flatly. “Her plan’s the right one: get her to the protection of the Archmage.”
Kay’s eyes hardened as she looked at the young soldier.
“And that’s leaving aside the fact that those aren’t our orders,” she told him. “The princess is in charge here. You don’t speculate on what’s best for her. She decides, and you carry out her commands.” She raised her eyebrows. “Clear?”
Will’s face turned white. He saluted hastily. “Yes, lieutenant,” he said.
“All right then,” Kay said. Her voice rose as she called out orders. “Kenn and Jean scout ahead, right and left flanks. Go.”
Two soldiers ran out the door and disappeared onto the road outside.
“The rest of you: escort formation,” she continued. “The prince and princess in the center. Nothing gets near them that hasn’t gone through you first.” She pointed to two men with bows. “Archers with me at their side. We go to work if the ring is broken. We give the scouts a ten count, and then hoof it.”
The seconds ran by quickly as she counted them down. Then she glanced at Randia. The princess nodded.
“Okay — Guards of Company Twenty-Three! Move out!”
The soldiers ran through the door into the street, one after another. Randia and Stefan followed them, followed by Kay and her archers. The group fell quickly into formation around them and began running along the road to the right. The soldiers held their shields as they ran, angled outward and upward to ward off attacks from the side or above.
Randia glanced around, and saw there was little need for the precaution. As they had expected, both the sky and the roads around them were clear. She couldn’t see the force that was moving on the Star, but knew it was at least two terrace levels below them. For the moment, at least, it was no threat.
The guards led them expertly through the Upper City to the east. Randia soon realized that the scouts were picking a route to keep them out of the open as much as possible. They cut through a row of hedges, across the yard of an estate, and under the boughs of a small copse of woods. Then they were on another road, running back toward the line of cliffs. They dashed through a small park, fording a stream that ran through it. She glanced down, seeing that it fed just below them into an artery of the city’s vast system of aqueducts.
Finally they came to a stop. Randia saw that they were in a small glade, surrounded by a wall of trellises. Flowering vines ran along and through them, providing a cover of foliage that gave the little garden a feeling of privacy. Some of the trellises arched over the north end of the clearing, forming a kind of inflorescent gazebo.
An opening in the trellis wall gave a view of the city below. A spur extending from the cliff-wall to their right bordered the path next to the glade. It turned to block the way ahead, breached only by a tunnel that led through it to the east.
“Three minute rest,” Kay said firmly. “Under the gazebo. Get your wind, everyone. There’s little cover from here on until we reach the stairs to the lower terraces.”
Stefan sank down onto the grass of the glade, panting. Randia sat beside him and kissed his shoulder.
“How do you feel?” she asked.
“Exhausted,” he said. His voice sounded cheerful despite his heavy breathing.
“What about you, Your Highness?” Kay asked.
Randia waved a hand at her. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine for another sprint when you’re ready.”
Stefan grinned at the lieutenant. “She doesn’t wind easily,” he said with a conspiratorial wink.
Two scouts came running toward them from the opening in the path ahead. Kay turned as they came to attention before her. “Report,” she said.
One of the soldiers — this one was Jean, Randia thought — saluted. “There’s something odd going on in the sky up ahead,” she said tentatively.
Kay stiffened. She knew her team, Randia realized, and could tell that there was something off in the scout’s manner. “Could you tell what it is? And how far out?”
“It’s a bank of clouds. Out past the end of the city, surrounding it. It rolled in from the north and south in the last few minutes. It doesn’t look natural.”
Randia got up and walked to the opening at the north end of the trellis wall. She looked out, craning her head to the side.
“Your Highness, please!” Kay said, aghast.
Stefan gasped. “Pull your head back before someone sees you!”
Randia ignored them. She studied the sky for a short while. Then she turned back to the others.
“It’s another spell storm,” she said. “The pattern is the same as the fog over the amphitheater before. I can even feel some of the magic, this time. It’s a large and powerful conjuring.”
“Why?” Kay asked. “Can you tell what it’s for?”
Randia took a deep breath. When she spoke, her voice was grim.
“The last time the enemy did this, it was to conceal the arrival of an attack force. If my fears are right, our path to the Silver Star is about to get even more difficult than it already was.”
Warlord of the Academy
Lieutenant Kieran Caldor was thrown to his knees on the marble floor. A cry welled up in his throat, a mixture of pain and despair. He struggled to suppress it, and managed to keep it to a short, gasping sob. He kept his head bowed.
His wrists and ankles were bound behind him. His arm was bleeding, and the pain in his shoulder was intense. Dislocated, he thought numbly. Nothing that couldn’t be healed when he had a chance to get medical attention. If he had a chance to get medical attention.
He tried to recall what had happened. He could remember the academy staff hastily barricading the doors to the Dean’s Library when they had arrived. He’d sent the students on to shelter with the others in the auditorium at the center of the building, beneath the great dome. He and his men had joined the defense, standing with the guards and the professors of magic, to hold the entrance.
They’d had little time to prepare. The lookouts on the rotunda had seen the approach of a large force of Hellmen. Orion and Diana’s suspicion had quickly been proven right. In minutes they had been surrounded, with no hope of escape.
The attack had been brutal. Whatever advantage he’d thought the professors of magic would provide had easily been countered by the enemy. Hellman casters had bombarded the building with fire, sundering its walls and shattering its makeshift fortifications. And when they struck, there could be no doubt that it was Lord Zomoran leading the enemy. The magus took down many of the defenders himself, shattering the wizards’ barriers with almost contemptuous ease.
Kieran frowned. How had his arm been injured? It must have happened when the doors exploded, and a tornado had swept through the great auditorium. He remembered being picked up by the whirlwind, but nothing after that.
He risked raising his head a little, slowly and very cautiously. He was kneeling on the marble floor of the great auditorium. Several dozen others had been lined in rows beside and around him. Some were guards, like himself. Others wore the robes of academy profe
ssors, in different colors to reflect their disciplines. Many were hurt, their faces bruised and their clothes splattered with blood. All of them were bound as he was.
He turned his head a little, his eyes darting quickly from side to side. Many more prisoners were bound behind him. Half of the auditorium was taken up with them, all kneeling in rows like himself, head down. The rows were spaced far enough apart for Hellman guards to walk between them. He could see them now, strolling among the captives and watching them, whips in hand.
He started to search for his charges from the palace. It didn’t take long to spot them, kneeling in a row several ranks behind his. Their fine clothes stood out dangerously from those of the students lined up around them. He found himself caught between feelings of relief and dread at the sight: relief that they had survived the carnage, and dread for what was to come.
One thing was certain: he had failed in his duty to keep them safe.
He saw bodies strewn around the outer circumference of the room. None were moving, and there was no sign of his men. Many of the dead lay face up with their throats cut. Wasn’t that what he’d heard that Hellmen did after a battle? Separate out those who had value as captives, and summarily execute the rest? And he was still alive. Did that mean they —
A lash struck his shoulder. He flinched, biting back a cry. A Hellwoman soldier with a whip stood to his side, her expression lit with what he could only interpret as delight. Her eyes met his with a look of predatory hunger.
“Head down,” she ordered, smiling. She spoke in Carlissan, but her accent seemed strangely unsuited to the words. It was thick and alien. He wondered how much of his language she actually spoke, or if she were simply using a memorized phrase.
He dropped his gaze immediately to the floor. He held himself rigid, not daring to move. She walked by behind him, slowly, laughing. Her leather-clad legs brushed his back, and she tousled the hair of his bowed head playfully as she passed. He shuddered at her touch.
He remained motionless, keeping his head down. His arm ached, and stabs of pain lanced periodically through his shoulder. His knees began to hurt as they pressed against the hard marble floor. He lost track of time as he waited, kneeling in pain.