03- The Apostles of Doom
Page 33
“So what does this entail?” Teragdor asked, still stunned.
“Well first, you’ve already been granted bureaucratic permission from Upstairs for much higher mana resources, and now we need to do a formal anointing and then follow up with a heck of a lot of learning!” Stevos lifted the book strap with the books from beside him and put it on Teragdor’s desk. “These books have very thin pages and contain a large number of rituals, pronouncements and mantras. Actually, every ritual, pronouncement and mantra that mortals can perform. I will tutor you, but you’re going to need to study and practice them as well.”
Teragdor shook his head, his eyes locked on the books. He could not comprehend this; it was too great an honor. Too unbelievable.
“When you are not reading them, I would keep them in the book strap,” Stevos said. “It is blessed with powerful protections to keep the books from being damaged. Further, as part of the anointing process, we will key the books to open only to you. You know—trade secrets and all.”
Teragdor nodded silently, still in shock at this turn of events.
Stevos chuckled before continuing. “I can assure you that a great number of your superiors in the Church would most likely sin to get their hands on these books. There are things in there known only to the High Pontificate, and a few that not even he knows.”
Teragdor suddenly realized he had not been breathing. He let his breath out, continuing to stare at the books. This was what shock must feel like. He’d treated wounded people in shock, but had not truly experienced it.
“Oh, and we may want to see about brushing up on your physical combat skills as well.” Stevos grinned. “Nysegard is a very hostile place, and we need to make sure you can stay alive long enough to smite some undead with the Radiance of Tiernon!”
Nysegard, Nargolon: Late Third Period
Talarius stood watching as the oath-taking ceremony in Nargolon came down to the last dozen people. He shook his head at the similarities to the one he had seen yesterday in Krallnomton. It was inconceivable to him that this vast array of very different people—D’Orcs, half-D’Orcs, orcs, half-orcs, dwarves, half-dwarves, humans, and a few of hearthean descent as well as a few half-alfar—were so willing to unconditionally swear to this demon lord.
What bothered him the most, he supposed, were the looks of relief, joy and hope that they all had as they swore their oaths. They saw this demon as their salvation, as someone capable of saving them and their way of life; as a protector and guardian against the Darkness.
That was Tiernon’s role! It was just wrong that a demon lord, a gods-forsaken demon lord, could fulfill this role. He would have thought perhaps they were deluded, but he had now heard enough tales from the times of Orcus to know that Orcus had apparently played that role himself, at least here. Either that or the immortal D’Orcs had convinced later generations of this.
But if it was all a façade, what was the purpose? That was what Talarius could not determine. It was getting progressively harder and harder for him to untwist the logical knots he was having to tie himself into to continue thinking of this demon as pure Evil with a capital E.
The people he had talked to, and trained, had all been good people who had not believed they were lying to him when they praised the D’Orcs and Lord Tommus. While he did not have Holy Truth Sight, his visor could accurately measure changes in body temperature, subdermal tension and other minutiae that could give him an indication of whether or not the subject was lying; at least for humans, whose physiology he understood. He did not know enough about orcs to be able to interpret their honesty. Alvar were even harder to judge, based on his experience.
It was also odd that multiple people in both Krallnomton and Nargolon had recognized him as a knight of Tiernon and welcomed him with what could only be called open arms. The level of subterfuge this demon would have to be going to in order to seduce and corrupt him was, frankly, becoming untenable. He would, even as Tom had pointed out, have to be insanely egotistical and full of hubris, all sins that he had tried to avoid his entire life, to think that he was so worthy of such mind- and dimension-bending machinations.
As the service finished, one of the oath takers came up to him. He appeared to be a lad of about twenty; however, by his ears and fine features, Talarius recognized him as having alvaran blood. The half-elf stuck out his hand to Talarius in greeting.
“Stainsberry,” the lad said as Talarius took his hand.
“Talarius.” Talarius nodded.
“I can’t tell you how auspicious it is for Lord Tommus to arrive with a Knight Rampant of Tiernon at his side,” Stainsberry said.
Talarius tilted his head in pleased puzzlement. “You recognize my station?”
Stainsberry chuckled. “My training required me to memorize all the insignia of the various knighthoods.”
Talarius blinked in surprise. “You have trained as a knight?”
Stainsberry nodded. “I am a Knight Magus of the El Ohîm.”
Talarius blinked and shook his head in surprise. “Knight Magus of the El Ohîm? I don’t believe there have been any of those in Astlan in thousands and thousands of years.”
Stainsberry, or rather Sir Stainsberry, nodded. “We are a rare order, dedicated to defeating the Forces of Darkness wherever they may occur.”
“Do your vows not prevent you from swearing allegiance to Lord Tommus?” Talarius asked, suddenly curious.
“Not at all. Our first oath is to the Light. We are encouraged to swear to the Patrons of Light in the pursuit of the Light,” Sir Stainsberry said.
“And you are certain this Lord Tommus is a Patron of the Light?” Talarius asked.
Stainsberry looked at him oddly. “Clearly. For one thing, he has a Knight Rampant of Tiernon at his side. Arg-nargoloth, the patron of this village, regaled us last night about how you fought at Lord Tommus’s side against the Knights of Chaos, along with the goddess Sekhmekt, who is so powerful in the Light that she bears the Aten and is the daughter of Ra-Orûs, God of the Light.” He shook his head. “I can think of no greater recommendation. And, given that we also know and trust the D’Orcs who have stood with the Light for tens of thousands of years in Nysegard, and now that many of the greatest D’Orcs of legend—Arg-nargoloth for one—have returned and proclaimed Lord Tommus to be the Light Lord Orcus reborn, how could we doubt?”
Talarius nodded with a tight grin, not willing to argue the point at this moment. “You make a very convincing case.”
Stainsberry grinned. “It is good to have one’s certainties challenged, my new friend, and so I appreciate your desire to ensure my loyalty and expose any uncertainties I may have. However, I feel very confident.”
Talarius shook his head. “No, I did not mean to challenge your loyalty; it is simply that I am continually amazed at how Lord Tommus manages to so easily reclaim the mantle of Orcus.”
Stainsberry gave him a wry grin from the side of his mouth. “Well, walking around with the Wand of Orcus is also a pretty good indicator that he is who everyone says he is.”
“Indeed,” Talarius agreed. He did not quite see it that way, of course; he had been there when the Wand was found and Tom had since been at great lengths to assure him and the rest of his entourage that he was not, in fact, Orcus. So he was not really sure what to think or make of this situation.
Freehold, Council Chambers: Mid Fourth Period
Damien shook his head. His fellow councilors had been updating him on the chaos that had occurred in his absence. Quite the inspired wizardry, he had to admit. Given that the council and the city had survived, it would have been quite something to see. On the other hand, it was not every day one got to see a demon prince and a goddess wage war against Knights of Chaos, particularly when that demon prince was ostensibly one’s friend. That would take some adjusting to. Assuming, of course, that Tom actually was who he claimed to be. This whole throne-of-Orcus business seemed just a bit too convenient. He would, however, have to sort this out later with Antefalke
n—assuming his bard ever returned. For now, there was council business.
“Incredible, all of you, simply spectacular! We all owe you a great debt,” Damien told them.
Sier Barvon snorted loudly. “Please tell that to my brother-in-law and the other magistrates. They are not amused by recent events, and are even less amused about the costs. Both those of repair and those due to lost business.”
“Seriously?” Zilquar asked. “They should be glad we are here to defend them and keep them safe.”
“Keep them safe?” Davron asked. “You do know that all of this is due to Exador, yes? He brought in the demon army, and then he tried to destroy both the council and the palace!”
“I did inform the council that he was a danger to all of humanity,” Lenamare observed drily.
“No, you told us he was a danger to you,” Tureledor said. “I am sorry if I do not consider you and Jehenna to be the sum total of humanity.”
“Actually, that—specifically Exador—is the point of the magistrates,” Sier Bavron replied.
“Indeed,” Davron agreed.
“Exador was one of our own. We let an archdemon into our midst, we took him into our confidence and we were betrayed,” Sier Bavron told them.
“Quite true,” Jehenna admitted. “We have never gotten along with Exador, however, we never suspected him of being an archdemon.”
“None of us did,” Zilquar agreed.
“Yet they feel we brought this upon not only ourselves, but them and the city as well,” Davron said.
Damien shook his head, but chose to ignore Davron’s comment for the moment. “Is it actually true that none of us knew?” He turned to look at Randolf. “Did you not know he was an archdemon?”
Randolf suddenly looked uncomfortable. He coughed to clear his throat. “Indeed, I did know he was an archdemon. My entire family line has known ever since he destroyed Abancia.”
Alexandros Mien suddenly spoke up. “Abancia destroyed by an archdemon—that does make so much more sense than even the most powerful of wizards, which we all believed Exador’s ancestor, so to speak, to be.”
“Indeed, we quickly discovered it. His disguise was quickly pierced by our djinn allies,” Randolf said.
“Yes, indeed... your djinn allies,” Alexandros said. “We need to have some discussions about this rather intriguing relationship of yours.”
“Indeed, we all simply thought you were a pervert,” Sier Bavron said.
Randolf shook his head. “No, no—Crispin is far older than me. Older than Alexandros.”
“I suppose that makes it alright then. It’s your djinni that’s the cradle robber,” Sier Bavron harrumphed.
Damien shook his head. “So why did neither you nor your family ever mention this?”
“And have Turelane turned into a wasteland like Abancia?” Randolf shook his head. “No; in order to protect our people, we decided to play ignorant and go along with his charade.”
“Did Exador know that you knew?” Jehenna asked.
Randolf shook his head. “Not at all. We have all been very careful—except for my father. He became fed up with his subservient position, and, I suspect, revealed too much. It is my belief and Crispin’s that Exador suspected my father of knowing the truth, and arranged for his demise.”
“So you then moved into damage control?” Gandros asked.
“Indeed. The fawning sycophant, you know, is as much a façade as the one used by Exador. I had to ensure that Exador felt no threat from me, my family, or my people,” Randolf informed them. “That being said, here in Freehold, I have been working in secret to not only expose him, but trap him or ban him from Astlan.”
“It does make some sense,” Lenamare said. “I have to say, our recent work together has completely reversed my opinion of your skills. You are actually somewhat competent.”
Randolf gave Lenamare something that, to Damien, looked half way between a smile and a smirk.
“Thank you, Lenamare. I take that as a great compliment,” Randolf replied.
Lenamare nodded. “It may serve as such.”
Damien rubbed the bridge of his nose. This was going to be a long council session. At least they were now back to their usual bickering banter. He supposed that was a good thing.
Etterdam, Arcem Conclave: Mid Fourth Period Courts, Early Sixth Local Time
“Well, I am glad to see you have at least had someone sweep the place out,” Aodh remarked rather dismissively as he entered their principal meeting room atop their tower in Etterdam.
Sentir Fallon rolled his eyes.
“Yes, well, given how much the two of you whined like a snotty little virgins last time, I decided to swoop down and abduct some peasants to clean the place up,” Lilith replied. “When we are once more done with this place I will dispose of them, even as last time.”
“In that case, why not abduct some stone masons, carpenters and such, as we did last time?” Aodh asked.
“How long are we going to be using it?” Lilith asked. “Last time it was for more than a few centuries.”
“It may be that long again, or longer,” Sentir Fallon said sourly.
The other two looked at him in surprise.
“Orcus—and I think by this point it is becoming clear that we are dealing with Orcus—has reopened his satellite volcano in Nysegard,” Sentir Fallon said.
Both Lilith and Aodh inhaled rather loudly at that. “What makes you so sure of both details?” Aodh asked sharply, sitting down in a chair that materialized beneath him. Lilith shook her head in exasperation at his blatant use of magic, and then summoned one for herself as well. Sentir shrugged and retrieved his own chair.
“Talarius, the abducted knight, has appeared in Nysegard on the Isle of Doom,” Sentir said. “We have received multiple prayers from him there, and in those prayers we have seen signs of D’Orcs flying around an active volcano in a region that is clearly not the Abyss.”
“If this demon wants to open one of the satellite Dooms, why would it start with the nastiest place first?” Aodh asked.
“Because he knows,” Lilith said, sounding angry.
Sentir closed his eyes even as Aodh locked his on Lilith and stated emphatically, “There is no way he could know. The Dark Apostle blocked off access to Doom for Orcus and his army. You cut the link to the Nysegard Doom, so they could neither use mana, nor return upon death.” He shook his head and continued. “Sentir slew Orcus permanently and infected the D’Orcs with the Blackness before I even opened the gateway to Nysegard outside the Dark Apostle’s wards. No one other than our own servants were left alive. There is no way he could know that we used the forces of the Storm Lords to destroy his mortal army.”
“Aside, perhaps, from your forces who were cordoning off the area so none could escape?” Sentir asked.
“As I said, other than our own people. I note that your people were there on the field as well, both mortal and immortal,” Aodh snapped.
“I am not sure it matters how he knew at this point,” Lilith interrupted. “What does matter is that he is clearly aware of everything we did and is moving rapidly with his vengeance. Do the Storm Lords even have any idea that he is back in Nysegard?”
“I don’t see how they could. The only way we know is because Talarius is with him,” Sentir replied.
“Why?” Aodh asked.
“Why what?”
“Why is your knight with him? Why would Orcus allow this knight back onto the material planes, where he could contact Tierhallon?” Aodh clarified. “It seems rather risky.”
Sentir shrugged. “The place is extremely hostile. Between Orcus’s own forces, the Unlife, and the limited resources the Five Siblings have on that world, where is he going to go?”
“Yes, but why let him contact Tierhallon?” Aodh reiterated.
Sentir shook his head slightly. “We see it as one of two things: a trap to draw our forces to him so the demon can steal more mana, or he wants us to deploy more resources to the world.�
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“Why would he want more forces of Tiernon on Nysegard?” Lilith asked.
Sentir sighed. “On Nysegard, the Church and the Isle of Doom are on the same side against the Unlife.”
“Oh, yes,” Aodh said with a slight malicious grin. “I forgot, you and your people are morally opposed to the Unlife.” Sentir glared at him. “I forget, given your own propensity for using them.”
“Enough,” Lilith silenced the other two. Aodh and Sentir both turned to her, now silent. “There is one other possibility,” she said.
“And that is?” Aodh asked.
“Tiernon is on to you.” Lilith stared directly at Sentir, who blanched. “Despite your assurance at the time, how confident are you that he bought your entire story? You were not supposed to permanently kill Orcus.”
“It has been four thousand years,” Sentir protested. “I have been promoted a couple of times since then. And I don’t see how this connects to Talarius?”
“What if Talarius was a plant all along?” Lilith asked.
The other two stared at her in silence.
“I am not sure I follow,” Sentir said. “How could Tiernon have known this so-called “fourth order” was going to come and kidnap Talarius? The entire episode took us all off guard.”
“Perhaps,” Aodh said introspectively.
Lilith smiled and nodded, allowing Aodh to come to his own conclusions.
“You are saying that perhaps this demon, who Sentir is now almost certain is Orcus, was in contact with Tiernon beforehand, that the battle and mana theft were planned, and that Talarius was used as a liaison? That the two are somehow working together to expose us?”
Lilith grinned seductively, or perhaps mischievously, or maliciously, or something in between, as growing looks of comprehension and horror crept across the faces of her companions.