by Joe Jackson
Before they reached the gates to the keep, Erik pulled forth his dog tags and laid them over his breastplate. Markus nodded when he saw the gesture, and he subconsciously tapped the coat of arms engraved into the upper left of his own breastplate. Their identities seemed to be well understood by the guards, who waved them through the gates, even armed as they were, with no hesitation. That eased Erik’s tensions a bit, since cities that embraced lawlessness typically tried to delay letting any demonhunters or other law enforcement see those in charge.
The doors to the keep were open wide to let in the comfortable summer breeze, which was cooler this far south than Erik was accustomed to, but still quite pleasant. Winters here on the south coast were reputed to be unbelievably brutal, but the colder port had significant trade in fishing, as well as trapping and mining from the nearby mountains, hence its name. It wasn’t the type of place Erik would want to live – or any other half-demon, more than likely – but as was usually the case, the humans made due in places other people stayed away from. There was even the occasional fures-rir among the people, but not in numbers: they weren’t native to Askies.
Erik and Markus made their way into the keep, and the foyer served as a reception area with several clerks handling paperwork. One looked up at the human and half-demon when they entered, and though she seemed surprised when she looked at Erik, she smiled and waved the two over. They quickly introduced themselves and their reason for being there, and requested a meeting with the mayor. The clerk regarded Erik with interest again, but Markus’ status seemed to override whatever she was thinking. That didn’t make it bother Erik any less.
After a short wait, they were escorted into the office of the mayor, an open room with a large fireplace that had probably once served as the baron’s reading room. Now its walls were hung with hunting trophies and what appeared to be, at first glance, ribbons from some sort of competition – horseback riding, if Erik was properly interpreting the images upon them. Those drew Markus’ attention for a few moments before he walked over to stand before a cherry-wood desk that was so wide it made the scant papers upon it look insignificant. Erik drew up beside the Earl and waited for the mayor’s attention.
William Foriskoe was not a tall man, an issue made more pronounced by the facts that he had not risen to his feet in the presence of Markus, and that Erik was almost seven feet tall. The human appeared to be middle-aged, with slight patches of gray at the temples of his short, dark hair, and crows’ feet around grey eyes accentuated by bushy brows. He was dressed in a sharp outfit that had the look of noble finery to it, dark greys highlighted with silver trim and several golden chains. Erik could only imagine what the baron must look like if the mayor he’d set up in his place dressed this way.
The mayor finally looked up at Erik and confusion dominated his lightly-bearded face instantly. It was only when he turned to regard Markus that he suddenly realized who and what he was dealing with, and he rose to his feet hastily. “Earl Lajere! This is a surprise,” he said, extending a hand. “What brings you to the city with this…demonhunter?”
“The attacks to the west, naturally,” Markus returned with a slight tone of disapproval. “We thought to stop here and ask if you had any news or better information than what we had heard before our departure.”
“Of course, of course,” Foriskoe said, gesturing toward the chairs across from him. He waited until Erik and Markus took seats before he did so himself. “We haven’t heard very much in the wake of the attacks, except that the city of Bantry has repelled whatever it was.”
“It’s reached Bantry already?” Markus gasped, and he turned back to Erik. “I think this rules out for certain any idea that it might be a full-size army: if it was, it would not have reached Bantry so quickly, and the city would not have repelled them easily. Perhaps you and the others should pass through Newport and head straight to Ballycastle. It’s possible our enemy bypassed Bantry for now but will return there once Ballycastle or even Newport fall.” Erik nodded, and the Earl turned back to the mayor. “What news do you have of Earl Marsdale? Is it certain that he has been slain?”
The mayor nodded. “Killed by a demon, they say. Not sure what kind, but it apparently killed him, his scouts, his personal guard, and several soldiers. The defenders at Bantry weren’t able to gauge how many there were; they were besieged from all sides, but the attacks came at night, didn’t last long, and they never saw any sign of an army before or after. Hard to know just what they’re dealing with.”
“What we’re dealing with,” Erik corrected. The mayor gave him a cool look. “Or do you think this is going to stop after the towns to the west of you are destroyed?”
“Erik is quite right,” Markus said before the mayor could retort. “Has your liege sent any defenders to help fortify your neighboring cities? And what are your plans to bolster the garrison and the walls here?”
“These attacks are a long way away, and as I said, the attackers were rebuffed at Bantry,” Foriskoe said. “His Lordship is not particularly worried about the situation–”
“Well, he should be,” Erik interrupted.
“You must start fortifying this city, and make certain that your garrison is strong enough to repel an invasion should it come to your walls,” the Earl said. “We will be heading west to try to divert any coming attack, but you must be ready for the possibility that we fail or this invading force is simply much larger than we currently suspect.”
“With all due respect, Earl Lajere, you are outside your county, and Lord Stevens has the final authority here,” the mayor countered.
“You are mistaken,” Markus said, rising to his feet. “Under the Succession Accords, I am claiming authority over the County of Marsdale until such time as the Duke recognizes Earl Pendergast’s heir or appoints another.”
“You’re really going to invoke the Succession Accords?” Foriskoe asked incredulously.
“Since I believe you and your lord may be endangering the populace of Marsdale County, I am absolutely invoking the Succession Accords,” the Earl said. “Now, you have two options: you can either do as I say, or I can have my demonhunter companion here arrest you and escort you to the stocks.”
Foriskoe turned to Erik, and the demonhunter said, “I may just arrest you anyway. That is, unless you can give me a good reason why there’s a slaughtered whale on one of your piers.”
The mayor cocked his head for a moment before he chuckled. “Guards!” he called.
Erik was tempted to grab the man by the neck and pull him over the desk, but he waited on Markus to make the first move. Several armed guards entered the room with their hands to the hilts of their swords. They spread out and waited for the mayor’s word. “Escort these two gentleman back to their ship and see to it they do not try to re-enter the city,” Foriskoe said.
“Belay that order,” Markus said, holding up a finger toward the guards. “Under the laws of the Succession Accords, I am taking control of Marsdale County until such time as the Duke either recognizes Earl Marsdale’s heir, or else appoints another. My authority supersedes both Mayor Foriskoe and Lord Stevens.”
The guards looked back and forth at the two humans, and Erik could see that they knew absolutely nothing about the Succession Accords or its provisions. They were unlikely to simply go on Markus’ word in this situation, and waiting for them to send a messenger to the local baron for confirmation – which he might be reluctant to give if it meant he was losing his authority – would delay them too long. Markus was in the right, and was doing things according to the law, but Erik understood that wasn’t necessarily going to be enough in this situation.
The demonhunter rose to his feet and reached a long, muscular arm across the desk to grab hold of the mayor’s shirt. He pulled Mayor Foriskoe across the desk with little effort, then turned him and slammed him face down into the surface of the furnishing. “William Foriskoe, you’re under arrest for violation of Statute 4, Section 11, Paragraph D of the Marine Protection Act an
d Provision 9 of the Succession Accords,” he said, vaguely aware of the shocked stares of Markus and the guards. Erik pulled out a light set of manacles from his belt and locked the man’s hands behind his back. “You have the right to remain silent until you’ve spoken with your appointed counsel, and I’d suggest you take full advantage of that right.”
Erik straightened out, pulled the mayor – bloodied nose and all – roughly to his feet, and turned to face Markus and the guards. “Guards, take this man to the constable and make him aware of the charges,” the demonhunter ordered. “Then send a runner to Lord Stevens to let him know his mayor has been removed from office by law. Also, make sure to let him know that Earl Lajere has lawfully claimed authority over the County of Marsdale until you hear otherwise from Earl Pendergast’s son or the Duke himself. Any questions?”
“No, sir,” the guards answered, staring up at Erik in shock.
“Have the runner also alert Lord Stevens that he should begin preparing the city in case of attack from this aggressor to the west,” Markus added.
“Yes, m’lord,” one of the guards said. They escorted the mayor away in his manacles.
Erik and Markus were left alone in the office. Erik could see a trace of humor in Markus’ eyes, but the human still seemed shocked by what he’d just witnessed. “Sorry about that, Your Lordship,” Erik said, “but I wasn’t going to let him throw us out of the city.”
Markus laughed openly. “I’m not questioning the arrest,” he said. “It was more that you even knew what statutes and sections of the law to arrest him under.”
Erik regarded the Earl curiously. “I wouldn’t be much of a demonhunter if I didn’t even know the laws of my own homeland,” he said. “Lord Stevens can still set him free and challenge your rights under the Succession Accords, but we’ll worry about that on our return trip. We need to get back to the ship; I don’t think we’re going to get much in the way of news here. Hopefully my siblings and the twins turned up more.”
“Indeed,” Markus said. He chuckled again, and gestured for them to take their leave.
They received many a wide-eyed stare as they left the keep, and not one person remained seated or turned their back to them until they had left the gates. Erik hoped the arrest didn’t put any undue pressure on Markus when he went to take the reins of the county, but at the same time, he knew he couldn’t let the mayor get away with what he was doing. What was worse was the possibility that the baron might be complacent with or even complicit with what was going on in Winter’s Bounty. If that was the case, there were going to be more arrests when Erik and his companions returned.
But that was going to have to wait. They had demons to kill.
*****
Kari strolled toward the campus of the Order, quietly contemplating everything that had happened in the previous few days. She still felt a bit overwhelmed by it all, but things were slowly starting to fall into place, and order was slowly being reaped from the chaos that had been sown. She figured if she could get through the next week and her plans continued to properly unfold, then she might be able to get a full night’s sleep and worry a little less. For the moment, though, there was still just too much on her mind.
Her plan to expose the mole was still progressing as well as she’d hoped. Eli, Danilynn, and Tor had been safely hidden with no word of it hitting the usual gossip streams. Liria, disguised as Se’sasha, had left the campus under an armed escort headed to Gnarr, and Kari had made sure a very select group knew about it. Amastri had made a comment about the wisdom of sending the priestess out under light escort, but that made Kari happy. If Amastri wasn’t fully aware of what was happening, Kari assumed she had done a good job of hiding it well.
In the end, the story had been altered. When Kari spread word that two hunters would be taking a syrinthian south to Gnarr, she decided at the last minute to tell her officers it was Liria. The more she’d thought on it, the more she was convinced that telling people Se’sasha was the one being escorted would look too much like a trap. Instead, she opted to tell them it was Liria being sent to Gnarr to speak with the Duke of Sutherland, in the hopes the spies might assume it was actually Se’sasha. Kari had reasoned that when the mole heard of it, he was more likely to believe it was Se’sasha being sent under disguise than the other way around, and that might increase the odds that the ambush would happen.
It had apparently worked, to some degree. Amastri herself had heard of it, and mentioned it in passing when Kari spoke to her, which settled Kari’s nerves on three issues. The first was that her ruse had been good enough to fool whoever Amastri’s information source was. The second was that Amastri had seemed ignorant of the actual location and intentions of Eli, Tor, and Danilynn, which was exactly what Kari needed. Kari thought that when all was said and done, she’d have to personally thank Lord Stanley, the noble who had agreed to hide the three on his property to assist in Kari’s plan. The third, of course, was that she now had a narrower list of suspects: the officers she had told of her plans.
Kari was anxious for her friends and their “gnoll” companion to return. They’d been involved in recovering the items stolen from Turik Jalar’s tomb before the Apocalypse, so they might know something about the missing records. Of course, it was possible they wouldn’t know anything about it, but short of finding the information in one of Jason Bosimar’s journals – which she was trying to do when time allowed – they might be the only ones who knew one way or the other, if the Council itself didn’t know. Kari was confident in what she’d told the priests: as much of a target as a suit of paluric armor and a possibly-enchanted greataxe presented, the records seemed more important. There were so many forces arrayed against the Order that Kari’s gut told her the most damaging possibility would prove to be true.
In other matters, word had come in just that morning that the Silver Blades had arrived in the port city of Winter’s Bounty, and all was apparently proceeding according to plan. The Order had gotten updated reports on the situation as well, though details remained sketchy and incomplete. Kari was satisfied that the city of Bantry had rebuffed an attack of some kind, but even they had little idea of what they were dealing with in the aftermath. Reports said only that damage to the city was negligible, and casualties, while numerous, were mostly just wounded, with only a handful of fatalities.
Markus, the twins, and Sharyn had joined with the Silver Blades, which pleased Kari until she remembered that she’d never mentioned Sharyn by name. She wondered what Erik’s reaction had been like, and hoped it was a lot less confrontational than when he and Kari had first traveled together on Tsalbrin years ago. There were no messages about trouble or delays, though, so Kari assumed that regardless of how the initial meeting may have gone, things were now proceeding smoothly. The twins had passed along word that the Silver Blades would be heading farther west to Newport, from which they’d sail upriver to Ballycastle and get their work truly underway.
Kari thought of the ship Corbanis had left on, a speedy scout ship used to root out and report on pirates or foreign vessels along the east coast. It was faster than The Sword of the Coast, which meant Corbanis might intercept his children by the time they reached Newport. If not, it wouldn’t take long for him to catch up with them at Ballycastle, and Kari was sure the extra sword and experience the elder hunter provided would be pivotal in some way. Kari wasn’t sure what the Tesconis siblings’ reaction would be to working with their father, but she had to believe they’d accept it regardless.
That left only one other major issue for Kari to consider while she walked to work: the progress of the repairs on the estate house. Foreman John Schultz apparently ran a very efficient operation, and the house was well on its way to being habitable again. Typhonix was handling all of that for Kari, which gave the crippled warrior something to think about other than having to officially resign his commission with the Order. Kari was glad for his help, and when she’d visited her property, some of the laborers complimented Ty for his work
ethic and the fact that he listened to their complaints and suggestions.
Kari grunted as quietly as she could when her baby kicked her square in the bladder. Her little one was getting more and more active as her belly expanded. At times, it was hard for her to even walk back and forth to work without needing to stop to relieve herself after a particularly poorly-placed kick. She was looking forward to word of success from Eli, Danilynn, and Tor, and also from the Silver Blades, so that she could officially go on leave and sit around watching her house get refurbished.
The guards at the gate saluted her respectfully, but their expressions were warm smiles for their pregnant commander. Kari saluted them in return and continued on her way to the administrative building, leery of getting kicked too many more times while walking among her hunters and cadets. Lord Allerius tried to stop her to speak, but she blurted a hasty not right now and continued past him to the privy. She could hear his chuckles follow after her, and she made sure to give him a playful scowl when she returned.
“What is it?” she asked with a comedic edge to her voice. She gestured for him to follow and led him to her office. Kari sat behind her desk, but Lord Allerius stayed standing in the open doorway, leaning against its jamb. He chuckled again, and Kari scoffed. “Oh, will you stop it?”
Allerius waved off her protest. “I’m not laughing at you,” he said. “My wife and I have three children. Trust me, I understand completely.”
“What’s so funny, then?”
“Did you read the reports from Winter’s Bounty?”