Rides a Dread Legion

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Rides a Dread Legion Page 24

by Raymond E. Feist


  Amirantha continued. “I was hardly surprised, you understand, even if I was slightly disappointed. I do not know who trained you, if you were an apprentice or how such things were done on the Tsurani world—I did hear that is where you came into this Greater Path of Magic, as some call it. But I and my brothers, we were raised by a mad witch, and we learned our craft the hard way. I hear you have many volumes of lore in Stardock, tomes, books, scrolls, epistles, and even a fine collection of stone and clay tablets, all to the end of allowing magicians to learn from others who came before them.

  “My brothers and I had none of that. And we were…influenced by a mother who had made a compact with dark powers, I am certain. The madness, if you will, seemed to dilute with each child. If you encountered Sidi, you must know he was insane before he was out of boyhood.

  “Belasco is different, but his rages are uncontrollable, and he hates easily.

  “I have had my…difficulties, and it would be reasonable to say have made a fair number of mistakes. I have learned, however, that to constantly be battling for no good cause, to be angry without reason, is harming no one but myself. In the end, I have endeavored to find my own little place in the world and live there contentedly.”

  “By tricking the gullible out of their gold?” asked Pug.

  “Ah, that,” said Amirantha. “My reputation precedes me.”

  “To be truthful, there are not a lot of demon masters alive. It’s one of the problems we face.”

  “Problems?” asked the Warlock.

  “More on that later. Continue telling us about this event that caused you to seek us out.”

  “Allow me to presume that while you are a master of many arcane arts, you know little of demons.”

  “A fair assumption for the moment,” said Pug, “though I have encountered more than my share and have had to destroy them.” He thought it best for the moment to forgo mentioning one almost killed him.

  “I don’t know what sort of child you were, Pug, but I liked to poke around in things. I’d sit over an anthill and prod it with a twig to see how the ants would react. My eldest brother liked to see things die, and my middle brother liked to hurt things. In my defense, I think my curiosities were the most harmless, except perhaps to the ants.” He smiled, and seeing no reaction, continued. “We spent a great deal of time alone. Our mother had little use for us after we could be set aside, as she had her own interests.

  “Looking back on my childhood, it’s surprising any of us survived. My mother provided charms and potions, wards and minor enchantments for local villagers, who endured her proximity because they occasionally found her useful. We three boys were shown at a very early age our presence in that village wouldn’t be tolerated. Each of us in turn was allowed to wander into the village, without our mother stopping Sidi, or either of them stopping Belasco, or any of them stopping me. Each of us in turn was beaten and chased from the village. I had the dogs set on me.” He rolled up the sleeve on his left arm, showing old bite marks. “I’ve had this all my life. I was seven.”

  Magnus said, “Harsh.”

  “In a way, yes,” said Amirantha. “But in another way I like to think I was tempered to endure a great many hardships. It’s why I’m still able to sit here and speak with you, rather than having had my entrails spread around some cave by a demon years ago.

  “My curiosity about poking in things led me to a cave a few miles from my mother’s hut, and there I found ancient runes cut into the wall. Some primitive shaman, I think, because even at the age of ten I could feel the power in it. I had some lessons from my mother by then, minor cantrips and spells, things that would hardly amuse you, let alone impress, I’m certain; still I was something of a prodigy, or at least my mother said so. My brothers, as could be expected, hated me even more for having shown talent at an earlier age than they did.

  “I was alone in this cave I mentioned, and suddenly something on the wall seemed to make sense to me. I don’t know if there were ancient powers still abiding in the runes, or if some native ability I had seized on them, but I remember thinking there was something out there I could play with.

  “I conjured Nalnar, and we had a very rough-and-tumble introduction. He’s not malicious, at least not compared to his brethren, but like all manner of demons he can be unpredictable and combative. Fortunately, as demons go, he was also very young, and while he managed to singe my hair a little, I beat him into submission.

  “We then spent a good month learning to speak with one another—the demon language has sounds almost impossible for a human to make, without magic, and at that time I had no magic to speak of. I would bring him here once or twice a week over two years, and learn what I could from him.”

  Pug and Magnus now looked thoroughly fascinated.

  “When Sidi slaughtered our mother, Belasco and I went our separate ways. Our final parting was him accusing me of being complicit in our mother’s death though I’m certain he knew that false; he just liked having other people to blame.

  “I’ve encountered him a number of times over the years, and despite two civil conversations, most of the time he tries to kill me. I’ve been avoiding both my brothers for over a century now.”

  Both Magnus and Pug were unfazed by this revelation. Given how long Sidi had been a thorn in Pug’s side, that his younger brother was also long-lived came as no surprise.

  “After fleeing my brothers, I wandered and Nalnar, my little demon friend, was instrumental in keeping me alive. He’s nimble and clever, and for nearly two years I had him stealing things for me, a pie from a window, a new pair of trousers from a wash-line, a coin from a beggar’s bowl. And while I was alone a lot, I had him to talk to.

  “I learned of the demon realm.”

  Pug said, “Stop now. I think from this point forward, there are things here I wish for others to hear.” To Magnus he said, “See our guests are comfortable and let me know when—”

  Amirantha sat bolt upright in his chair and said, “Demons!”

  “What?” asked Magnus.

  “Where?” asked Pug.

  “Here, close.” He stood, and his head turned as if he was listening for or trying to see something. Then he pointed to the north. “There. Not far. More than one.”

  “How do you know?” asked Caleb.

  Flashing an angry expression, Amirantha said, “Trust me.” To Pug he said, “They are powerful. We must go meet them, now.”

  “North?” asked Pug.

  Then Magnus said, “Kaspar. He’s fishing on the north beach.”

  “Take us there,” said Pug.

  Brandos said, “I should go. I’m the only sword you’ve got that knows how to fight demons.”

  Pug glanced around the room and said, “We all go.”

  Magnus reached out and Pug took one hand; Amirantha and Brandos understood and reached out, Caleb standing between them. When the circle was complete, Magnus incanted his spell and suddenly they were on the cliffs above the beach on the north shore of the island.

  Kaspar of Olasko was giving a good account of himself as he confronted two red horrors. They had bat-like wings, which they were using to keep away from Kaspar’s sword. It was clear the struggle had only been taking place for a few moments, as the two winged monsters were being effectively kept at bay.

  Pug shouted to Amirantha, “Can you do anything?”

  “I’ve never seen their like,” answered the Warlock. “But I have something that might help.” He reached into his belt pouch and withdrew a stone, which he tossed at Kaspar’s feet. “Run toward us!” he commanded.

  Kaspar was no stranger to military obedience and recognized a command when it was issued. He swung hard, and as the two creatures withdrew, he turned and sprinted toward Pug and his companions.

  The demons hesitated a moment, and then a pulse of energy erupted from the stone in a barely visible sphere, like a concussion from an explosion. The two creatures were hurled back, over the edge of the cliffs, and fell from view.


  Kaspar reached them, and, almost out of breath, said, “That was timely.”

  Amirantha shouted, “They are not done!”

  Pug nodded and waved the others back and took three purposeful steps toward the cliffs. The two red-winged horrors, looking nothing so much as smaller versions of the monster that attacked the Oracle, save these had curving horns, like those of bighorn rams, rose up from the edge of the cliff. Pug shot out his left hand and a wave of force slammed into the leftmost one, driving it back again, while from his right hand a withering lash of pale-silver energy sprang out and wrapped itself around the other demon. The creature howled in agony as the energy leeched life from its body.

  Magnus came up behind his father and cast a bolt of blackness, which engulfed the demon on the left. It convulsed within the sphere and tried to howl, but seemed unable to utter a sound. Amirantha hurried up to stand behind them and said, “These are something like elementals. Air or fire creatures. They do not like the touch of land.”

  “How do they feel about water?” asked Magnus, and with a cast of his hand he launched the one he faced into a high arc over the beach below to slam into the water. With an eruption of green flame and hissing steam, the creature vanished.

  Pug did the same with his, and in a moment all was quiet. “I should have recognized them,” said Pug. “I faced such outside of Stardock, many years ago.”

  Kaspar said, “I was coming back up from the beach and just had cleared the top of the rocks when they appeared, out of the air.” He said, “I almost left my sword in the room you set aside for me.” He laughed. “I don’t know how well I could have stood them off with a fishing pole.” He carried a long surf pole, but it hardly looked equal to the task of being a cudgel.

  Pug looked at Amirantha. The Warlock said, “This was no coincidence.”

  “I didn’t think it was,” said Pug. “Your brother?”

  “I don’t know,” said the Warlock. “I used a stone I’ve prepared to repulse a demon, giving me time to run if I need it. I didn’t engage them with magic, so I have no feel for it…” He closed his eyes as if trying to sense something and said, “No, I only feel the lingering presence of those two demons.”

  “How did you know they were there?” asked Magnus.

  “The more I deal with demons,” said the Warlock, “the easier it is to sense them and the farther away I can sense them. Time was I wouldn’t know if there was a demon in the next room. Now I can feel them miles away. Comes from having dealt with them for over a hundred and twenty years.”

  Kaspar said, “Well, I’m glad you did. They were giving me hell to pay and, truth to tell, I’m not as quick on my feet as I once was.”

  Pug looked out over the water, growing dark as dusk approached. “So, who is sending these?”

  Amirantha said, “I don’t know, but whoever it was isn’t very adept at the mastery of demons.”

  “Why do you say that?” asked Magnus.

  “Those two are minor demons, little more than elementals of the air, really. Not intelligent, not powerful. Sending these to an island that’s home to magicians as powerful as you two is like turning two attack dogs loose on an army.” He looked around. “This is more to get your attention, I think, or to let you know someone knows you’re here.”

  “Let’s go back to the house,” said Pug. “There’s a bottle of wine we can share before supper and,” he looked at Magnus, “before your mother gets home. Where is she?”

  “Still at the Academy.”

  Pug shrugged. “She’s there longer than I would have guessed.” To the others he said, “If you don’t mind, let’s walk. The way is short, fresh air clears the head, and I’ve been jumping from place to place so much over the last few days I could use a small dose of the familiar.”

  No one objected, and they started to walk back to the house in the middle of the island.

  CHAPTER 14

  BARGAINS

  Tomas looked over the forest.

  Spreading out below him was the home he had known most of his life. From the royal couple’s private balcony, the view was stunning. The great trees of Elvandar were laid out in a fashion that at first glance appeared chaotic but there was a pattern, and once the eye became accustomed to it, much was revealed. From here Tomas could see the great meadow, where children played as parents watched over them while they repaired bows, made arrows, loomed cloth, or prepared food for feasts. In the distance he could see the top of a hill where an ancient watch fire waited to be lit should trouble breach the outer forest. No such warning was needed for the inner forest, on this side of the river the humans called Boundary, for only powerful magic could allow the uninvited to enter the heart of Elvandar, and such an intrusion would be felt by all who lived within the glades.

  As a boy in Crydee, he had imagined heroics and great feats as a warrior in service to the king, but fate decreed something far more than his boyish flights of fancy could conjure. He was the heir to the white-and-gold armor of the Valheru, and with that came the knowledge of a being dead long ages before he was born. He had seen a thousand things in memory he had not witnessed in life, yet they were as vivid to him as if he had lived them firsthand.

  His companion at the time he found the armor stood at his side, regarding the vista silently with his friend. The dwarves and elves had long had a cool but civil relationship until Tomas had gained the armor of the long-dead Valheru, Ashen-Shugar. As a battle companion, Tomas had saved many dwarves during the war with the Tsurani, and as the avatar of a long-dead Dragon Lord, he had commanded nearly blind obedience in the elves. During the Riftwar, a bond between the elves of Elvandar and the dwarves of the Grey Towers and Stone Mountain had been forged that had led to a far more cordial relationship than before the war.

  Dolgan had remained Tomas’s friend for over a century, always a calm source of counsel with a very practical view of the world around him. Tomas welcomed the old dwarf’s presence, though not the reason it had brought him. After delivering his warning to the Elf Queen, Alystan of Natal had departed, for he had many duties now delayed by carrying that warning, but Dolgan had decided to linger. It had been almost six years since he had visited with his friends in the north, and he felt the need.

  He also knew Tomas nearly as well as the Queen did, or Tomas’s boyhood friend Pug, and the King of the dwarves in the west knew his friend was as disturbed by the arrival of this alien elf as the Dwarf King had been. “It’s something to ponder, isn’t it, lad?” he finally said.

  Tomas always smiled at being called “lad,” by Dolgan. “That it is, Dolgan.”

  “I knew there was something afoot that day in the mines of Mac Mordain Cadal, when I found you eating fish with a dragon.” The old dwarf laughed, and said, “That alone was a tale worth a hundred nights by the fire of boys and girls fetching me another ale so I’d finish it. But what came after, Tomas. The Tsurani and what changed in you and who you became.” He gave an emphatic nod, and then said, “But it has all turned out for the best.”

  “Has it?” The tall, blond-haired, once-human warrior regarded his old friend with blue eyes filled with concern.

  “You’ve done a fair bit beyond your pledge to protect your adopted home, my friend. You’ve raised a fine son in Calis, and you’ve given a wonderful woman all the love a man can give. That alone merits praise. But more, you’ve been a redoubt to your people. It’s been pretty peaceful up here in Elvandar while the rest of the world has endured some pretty nasty times.”

  Tomas nodded. Elvandar was untouched when the Emerald Queen’s army had ravaged the Kingdom.

  “Well, I’ve given you plenty to ponder, and not near so much as our new friend,” Dolgan said with a nod toward where Gulamendis was being housed. “He’s a queer one, that’s for certain, and if it weren’t for the ears and all those elvish ways, I’d think he was a tall human, that’s a fact.”

  Tomas smiled. He enjoyed his visits with Dolgan, as infrequent as they were becoming. The dwarf would
probably live another hundred years, with luck and good care, but nothing was forever, and even the most robust of the long-lived race was mortal.

  Lately, Tomas had been filled with a sense of foreboding, a feeling he could not shake that something was coming, something very powerful, and the world as he knew it would change as a result, and not for the better. That feeling had deepened with the arrival of the alien elf.

  Looking at Dolgan, Tomas said, “So you’re leaving then?”

  “Aye, lad. I think I’ll wander up to Stone Mountain and visit old Hathorn. He’s a bit elderly now and doesn’t get out much. Need to chat a bit with his son, Locklan, about this and that. Dwarves’ business, you know.”

  Tomas nodded. “I understand. Would you like some company along the way?” Tomas didn’t want to insult his friend by suggesting he needed bodyguards. After all, the dwarf had run all the way from the Grey Towers with only Alystan of Natal.

  “No. It’s a short run and I could use some time to think. Besides, it’s been very peaceful these days, since you chased the Dark Brothers north. The goblins around these parts may be stupid, but they’re not stupid enough to trouble me.” He patted the legendary hammer at his side.

  Tomas grinned. Dolgan had found the Hammer of Tholin, the sign of his kingship, in the same cavern the then-boy from Crydee had found the armor of white and gold.

  The armor that gave him his power, that provided him with the link through time to a life not his own was safely stored in his quarters, next to the ceremonial gowns and jewelry worn by his wife. Yet he needed no armor for anyone to see the power in him. He was arguably the most dangerous being on this world, perhaps only rivaled by his boyhood friend Pug, whose magic made him almost a force of nature. But Tomas’s great strength and Valheru magic didn’t give him the ability to see the future.

 

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