Sons of Evil: Book 1 Book of Dread

by Adams, David

  “I know…,” said Darius, his words trailing off as he looked away to the south, as if he hoped for some signal that would tell him everyone back home was safe. He clutched the rock, his knuckles going white with the pressure. Slowly he forced himself to relax, then put the rock in his pocket. “Let’s go,” he said as he brushed by the others and headed for their gear.

  Without a word the others dutifully followed.

  *

  Orgoth was not one to waste words. He was as brutal and direct with language as he was with the greatsword he carried into battle. As soon as the connection with Kaelesh had been made, he said, “Ondrel’s horse returned without him.”

  Kaelesh shook his head. “I’m surprised, but I now have a better understanding of why the hunter has not replied to my summons for several days. Ondrel, you say…a good fighter?”

  “Good enough to take out a small group of humans. He had a dozen riders with him. Perhaps I overestimated his prowess.”

  “Or maybe we underestimated our enemies.”

  Orgoth made a fist and thumped his chest. “I will see to them myself.”

  “And then we’d certainly be victorious,” Kaelesh said with an appeasing smile. “But it will take a week or more for me to find their trail again, and then you’d have to go after them, and away from the war. I’m not sure I want to make that trade-off right now.”

  “But they have the book.”

  “With no way to open it or use it. I have wondered where they’re going with it. Perhaps to someone they deem more powerful than they. Perhaps an enemy more appropriate for Orgoth to test his skill against.”

  “Bah,” Orgoth grunted with a dismissive wave.

  “I’ve no doubt of the outcome, my brother.”

  “Are you certain you wish to let them go? They’ve bested some of our own. We should have vengeance. I could send a thousand as easily as I sent a dozen.”

  “You could, but then we might give these three kingdoms a reason to unite rather than fight one another. An army of demons would give them pause.”

  Orgoth said nothing, unable to counter his brother’s point.

  Kaelesh went on. “Remember our real purpose, Orgoth. And as far as this little group with the book, imagine if we could find a way to break them, to turn them from whatever just cause they believe they’re fighting for? We could slay them, yes, and likely we will, one way or another. But what if they lost their way and their souls first? Much better, yes?”

  Orgoth grunted again. “Perhaps. But there is a certain satisfaction in simply cleaving a foe in half with your sword.”

  Kaelesh laughed. “I’ll take your word for it. Leave them to me for now. I’ll let you know if I need you.”

  After Kaelesh was gone, Orgoth stood for a time brooding, his fingers drumming out a rapid beat on the table in his tent. Finally he shook his head as if to chase the thoughts of what had happened away, put on his helmet, and stepped outside, ready to take his anger out on foes closer at hand.

  Chapter 13: The War Camp

  The heat of the summer season had reached and passed its peak, and although the travelers still felt sweat on their brow during the day, the nights were becoming more pleasant. Not only were evenings now a welcome relief in terms of temperature, they were also an escape from the blight that had gripped the plains of Dalusia, everything withered and colored in dull yellows, browns, and grays. The companions really didn’t think of the people of Dalusia as the enemy—they knew they were fighting a different war—but even if they had they would have taken no delight in the stunted growth. It was simply depressing.

  They made reasonable progress, being unhindered in actuality but needing to proceed with caution since they were traveling in enemy territory. No matter how open and empty the plains might appear none could shake the feeling that they were being watched. Even if there were no more of the little demon hunters, the two that had gotten into their camp had unsettled them. While none of them were particularly at ease, Adrianna appeared the most uneasy, a fact Silas had taken note of since the battle with Ondrel and the other demons. He waited patiently, hoping she would recover on her own or openly express what was bothering her, but she had remained closed, only the occasional worried scans of the horizon or concerned glances at her fellow travelers giving her away. Silas knew her to be intelligent and courageous, knew it wasn’t just the fear of another attack eating at her, especially since they all thought another attack was inevitable anyway. As twilight indicated another day was drawing to a close and that they would soon be making camp, Silas decided it was time to talk.

  “We’ve been lucky,” he stated

  “So far,” she replied with a neutral expression.

  “Mind sharing what’s bothering you?”

  She laughed. “Other than the fact that a bunch of demons want us dead?”

  Silas smiled. “Yes. Other than that.”

  Adrianna paused, looked at Silas, and sighed. “I don’t doubt we’re doing the right thing, trying to keep the book away from Landri, trying to get it open so we might be able to stop a lot of what’s befallen Corterra. And everyone here has a stout heart and has earned their place in this company.”

  “But…”

  “I’m not sure we’re up to the task. The obstacles seem to be growing while we grow weaker. When we set out, I thought we’d have to avoid a few patrols, maybe deal with some creatures in the wild. I didn’t expect to be facing actual demons with a group of—” She stopped herself and flushed, embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”

  "It’s all right. Go on.”

  “I’ve said enough already.”

  “No, you haven’t. If we’re going to have any chance to come out of this alive, we need to be fully committed to our task and to one another. If you have doubts you need to speak them.”

  She hesitated a bit longer, then her chin dropped and she went on. “Darius is a trained soldier. At least he knows how to fight. Luke...you’ve done a good job of working with him, and someday he’ll likely make a fine soldier as well, but he’s young and he’s hurt, and so is Barlow.”

  “They’ll heal.”

  “Eventually. But with Barlow I’m less worried about the wound than his age. The stress of fighting Ondrel almost did him in. I hope you didn’t think I missed that.”

  Now it was Silas’ turn to be embarrassed. “I actually thought that everyone did.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you. Look, I know I’ve had my differences with Barlow, so don’t misunderstand. He brought Ondrel down, him and that sword of his, and I doubt any of the rest of us could have done so. So there, he saved us all, saved me. I’ll admit that. But what if his body gives out? I fear he might have the courage, but not the heart, literally, to see this through. And I’m not sure the rest of us have the power to protect him, to protect Luke, to protect each other. I include myself as well. I’m serviceable in my craft, but I’m no master sorceress.”

  “And what of me? Surely I’ve got weaknesses as well.”

  “We all do. I’m not as worried about you. That hard head of yours can probably take just about anything our enemies can dish out.”

  “I wasn’t looking for a compliment, backhanded though that was. The question is, what other options do we have?”

  Adrianna couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “What do you think I’ve been brooding about for the last five days?”

  “Let me know if you come up with something.”

  “I will,” she said. “And Silas. Thanks.”

  “Any time,” he said with a nod, then quickened his step, closing the gap with the others and leaving her alone with her thoughts.

  She was grateful for the chance to express her doubts, but there was one she had kept to herself. She watched Silas stroll boldly across the foreign soil, his head held high, his strong muscles rippling beneath his cleric’s robes. She had no doubt he would put himself in the way of danger for any of them, would die to protect his companions. She thought of him as the strongest, the most
up to the task before them, and the wounds and weaknesses she saw in the others, and even in herself, frightened her all the more.

  *

  King Landri should have been pleased. The war on both fronts was going well, the harvest apparently would be a decent one—far better than those in Dalusia and Westphalia from all reports—and a small uprising in the southern port city of Crescent had been put down with minimal loss of life. But his smile was forced as he said, “Very good,” and he dismissed his advisors with a wave of his hand.

  Kaelesh, as always, was last to the door.

  “Stay a moment,” Landri said.

  Expecting this, Kaelesh turned and waited placidly before his king.

  “What news of the book?”

  “I have discovered who took it and who has it.”

  Landri was clearly surprised by the news. Whatever pleasure he might have felt in hearing progress was being made soon vanished. “Why was I not told?”

  “I had preferred to finish the task and place the book back in your hands.”

  Landri scowled, not appeased. “Well, who took it then?”

  “One of the young women you took into your bedchamber while under the influence of too much wine, my king.” Knowing this subtle accusation would knock Landri off balance, Kaelesh quickly added a small lie. “She has been found and taken care of.”

  “I take it she did not have the book?”

  “No. Her brother took it and fled.”

  “And where is he?”

  “Somewhere in Dalusia.”

  Landri started to stand, but the fierce grip he had on the arms of his throne held him back. “Dalusia! He must be taking it to our enemies.”

  “I do not believe so, my liege. He is running as far away as he can, trying to keep the book from us. He is not looking to give it away.”

  “But perhaps he means to sell it, or even to use it himself.” Now sweat started to form on Landri’s forehead.

  “No, my king,” Kaelesh said in a firm tone. “He cannot open the book. He does not have the heart for it.”

  “What is his name?”

  “Daryl Loseman,” Kaelesh said without missing a beat. Kaelesh knew what would happen to the Stonemans if he revealed their name, and while he might have enjoyed the spectacle at another time, for now he wanted them alive. “Turns out he is now the last surviving member of his family.”

  Landri sat back hard against his throne, the force of the movement knocking the air out of him like a great sigh. “I suppose I should be happy you’ve learned so much. I began to doubt even you would be able to locate the book.”

  Kaelesh feigned being hurt by the words. “My king, when have I ever failed you?”

  “Never,” Landri admitted. “Don’t start now.”

  “I will not.”

  “So, how do you know this Loseman is in Dalusia?”

  “I have my ways,” Kaelesh said.

  “No doubt. Can you move against him?”

  “In time. He has the aid of a few others. I am seeing to it, but there are many things that need tended to. We have a kingdom to run and a war to win.”

  Landri almost snapped back at the use of the word “we,” but he caught himself. He was king, yes, but he reminded himself from time to time that much of what he had accomplished was only due to Kaelesh's help and direction. He would never say it openly, and he often wondered if Kaelesh thought the same thing and felt any bitterness about it. One thing Landri did know was that Kaelesh was extremely dangerous, and that even he dare not push him too hard. He decided to content himself that progress was being made, and more importantly that nothing vital had changed since the book had gone missing, particularly his relationship with Kaelesh. “You are right, of course. I trust you will soon return the book to us, where it belongs, my friend. You may go.”

  Kaelesh bowed low and took his leave. Once outside the throne room, his face grew more stern, a warning to any who passed him in the halls to keep their distance. When he reached his room and bolted the door he was certain he would not be disturbed.

  Even had he not expected Praad to be waiting there for him, he would have sensed him. The air was thick and heavy, as if by his very presence Praad made despair and doom into tangible objects that hung about like pregnant clouds. Praad stood in one corner of the room, nearly lost in the shadows, the hood of his black cloak casting even deeper shadows on his face. “You were gone longer than you expected,” Praad said, his voice the whisper of a dying man’s final breath.

  “Some of the king’s advisors can be long-winded,” Kaelesh answered, “and Landri enjoys the fawning.”

  “It does not matter. He asked after the book?”

  “Yes, in private. I put him at ease. We will have the time we need.”

  “And if he grows impatient?”

  Kaelesh shrugged. “No reason for concern. I can control Landri, as always. And if he ever becomes an obstacle, he will be eliminated.”

  “I hope it does not come to that. He has been quite useful, in his way.”

  “I agree, and that’s why he still draws breath. But enough about him. Do you require anything before you go?”

  “I am in need of nothing. I’m looking forward to meeting those who took the book.”

  “Let me know when you find them. And, Praad, do be careful. They’ve proved themselves somewhat resourceful. Don’t take any unnecessary risks.”

  “Kaelesh, I’m surprised at you. You think we have anything to fear from such as these?”

  Kaelesh smiled. “Of course not. Not really. But underestimating one’s enemy can be a fatal mistake. Ondrel likely made such an error.”

  For the first time since Kaelesh entered the room Praad moved, standing a bit taller. “I am not Ondrel,” he hissed.

  “I meant no insult, my brother. You will do well, as always.”

  Praad gave a subtle nod in recognition of the compliment, then said, “I will take my leave.”

  He left the room and then departed the castle and its grounds, keeping to the shadows as much as possible. Those whom he did pass always found somewhere else to fix their eyes as Praad neared, and they tended to shrink against the opposite wall of the hallway or the other side of the street. After he had passed it seemed that breathing came easier once more, and he was soon put out of mind by nearly all who encountered him.

  Kaelesh, of course, was different. He watched from a high window as his brother melted into the night. Until he heard from him, he would have little else on his mind.

  *

  During the long days and nights traveling across the Dalusian plains, the companions had had ample time to think about and discuss what was before them, but there were always too many variables to make clear plans as to how they would pass into the Far North and then somehow reach the Ice Elves in the great Auerl Forest. Before they could reach Elysium’s Neck and the Far North beyond, they would need to go through one of the cities know as “The Twins”—Bloomfield and Brumfield—or else pass through the wall that stretched between them. It was meant as a barrier to any creature trying to come south and was always well-guarded. It was not a given that they would simply be allowed through. Their only other option was to find passage on a boat across the waters on either side of Elysium’s Neck, which seemed an even more remote possibility.

  What hope they had of reaching one of The Twins or the wall unhindered met its most severe obstacle early one afternoon as they moved within a day’s march of Bloomfield. Luke was in the lead when he suddenly pulled up and pointed into the distance.

  “Banners,” he stated.

  “Dalusian,” Darius confirmed, noting the purple and white colors of the flags.

  The open plains gave excellent, far-reaching views, but offered little in the way of cover. The companions dropped to the ground and observed for a time, finally determining that a rather large force was moving nearly parallel to their path.

  “Do we wait until nightfall?” Adrianna asked. “Try to go around them?”
<
br />   “Probably our best chance,” said Darius, “although they may have mounted scouting parties on their flanks. Avoiding the main body may not be enough.”

  They wiled away the afternoon, taking a bit of rest and a bit of food. When the sun started to settle in the west, they set out again, hoping they would be able to spot any Dalusians before they themselves were seen. The moon was nearly full, casting its pale glow on the sallow fields and giving them ample light for travel.

  They had hiked in silence for three hours, counting themselves fortunate that they did not come upon the Dalusian camp, when Darius’ warning about mounted scouting parties was proven true. Unfortunately the sound of the horses’ hooves reached them too late; by the time the companions were alerted to the riders approaching from the east, they had already been spotted.

  They waited, still and silent as the riders approached, having agreed weeks ago what they would say if challenged while traveling in Dalusia. Whether their story would be accepted was another matter.

  There were eight in the mounted party, and just as the demons had done, they quickly encircled the companions with their weapons held ready. The leader of the scouting party kept his back to the moon and his hood and cloak close about him, such that his face was in shadow while those he addressed were visible to him in the moonlight.

  “State your names and your business,” he said, “and be quick about it.” He sounded tired and worn, simply passing another long patrol in a war that had gone on for years.

  Silas spoke for the group and introduced each by their first name. “We’re going north in search of better land. Crops have been sickly this season, and the harvest not enough to support all our families past this winter, if even until then.”

  The man shook his head. “I doubt you’ll find things much better anywhere in Dalusia.” He leaned forward and studied them in silence for a time, then said, “You seem well-armed for farmers.”

  “These are dangerous times,” Silas said evenly, never letting his gaze drift from the shadowed face of his questioner.