I took my hand off the pommel of my rapier and closed my eyes, returning to the in-between place. I thought I had just enough strength to summon another kovet. I forced myself not to think of the Barbaroki coming ever closer and drew away as much of the shadow substance as I could hold. Protect us. Protect us. Protect us.
I opened my eyes as the shadow beast burst into being in front of Vili and Ilona. This one was different from the others; more like a floating mass of snakes than a spider. It grew, wrapping around behind us to form a writhing protective wall around the base of the dais. The dozen or so Barbaroki closest to the kovet fell dead instantly as the thing’s tentacles brushed against them. The other Barbaroki fell back in terror.
After a moment’s hesitation, Rodric continued firing. The kovet’s tentacles slipped aside, allowing the arrows to fly through it. A Barbarok fell, an arrow in his eye. Another took one to the throat. The third pierced a man’s heart. A Barbarok hurled his spear at Rodric, but the kovet seized the shaft with one of its tentacles and threw it back at him. Another spearman tried to jab at Vili, but found the tip of his spear mired in a sticky mass like thick tar. The few defenders who remained alive rallied and began to push the attackers back. We were still outnumbered five to one, but for a moment we had hope.
The horde parted as a broad-shouldered man in an ornate steel helm and wearing well-crafted armor of interlocking plates of boiled leather strode forward. In his right hand he carried a massive spear and in his left a curved metal shield. Rodric trained an arrow on him, but I held up my hand. I knew from the man’s appearance and bearing who he was: Chief Csongor, the ruler of the Barbaroki.
“Sorcerer!” Csongor growled. “Why do you fight for this vermin? This bureaucrat? Do you not know what he has done to your kind? What he will do to you if you survive this battle?”
“Spare me your concern, Csongor,” I said with as much vehemence as I could muster. “I fight to save Nagyvaros.”
“Nagyvaros has already fallen.”
“Your horde of savages is not my concern. There are greater threats than the Barbaroki.”
“You speak of the demon that walks the plain.”
“Voros Korom, yes. If you know of him, you know it is foolish to continue this fight. We must unite against the demon and his horde before they kill us all.”
“Hand over the Governor, and you and the others can go free. Then we will discuss what to do about Voros Korom.”
“I will not. Put down your weapons now or face my wrath.”
The Barbaroki must have seen my exhaustion, because he laughed. “I think you are not as powerful a sorcerer as you would have me believe,” he said. “I had thought you to be the one called Eben, but now I see that you are not.”
“My name is Konrad. I am more powerful than Eben.”
Csongor laughed. “No, I think not. Look how you quiver and struggle to stand. Stop my heart if you can, Konrad.”
“I’ll do the honors,” Rodric said, aiming his arrow at the chieftain.
“Loose that arrow and you’ll all be dead the moment this shadow creature fades,” Csongor said. “Your magic is feeble, Konrad. Even now the thing begins to weaken. Moreover, your biases betray you. Do you see how the shadow creature moves to protect your friends? While it lives, no sword or spear can penetrate.” He took a step toward Ilona. “But there is one here who is not your friend.” The kovet’s tentacles writhed in agitation at his approach. Ilona glared at him through the gaps in the barrier.
“As long as I breathe,” I said, “you will not touch any one of us.”
Csongor nodded and took a step back. “The shadow creature knows whom you love, Konrad. And whom you do not.” He brought his spear over his shoulder and, in an instant, hurled it at the kovet. The wall of tentacles parted and the spear flew over Vili’s head, embedding itself in the Governor’s chest. Rodric let loose his arrow, but not before Csongor raised his shield. The arrow bounced harmlessly off. The Governor, his blue smock rapidly turning dark purple, struggled for a moment to get to his feet, but found himself pinned to the throne. He opened his mouth, let out a gasp, and slumped over dead. The hunchbacked advisor, Bendeguz, threw himself at the Governor’s feet, weeping.
The guards who still stood launched themselves at the Barbaroki in fury but were soon cut down. The kovet faded and disappeared. I saw that Bendeguz had cut his own throat; he lay dying on the dais in front of the Governor. Only Rodric, Vili, Ilona and I were left alive. We braced for a fight.
“Put down your weapons,” said Csongor. “I came here to kill the Governor, so that there would be no question about who rules Nagyvaros. It is clear that your loyalty is to the city, not to the Governor. Were it not so, your spell would have protected him. Surrender and we will speak of the demon who walks the plain.”
I could barely stand, much less fight. Rodric glanced to me, and I nodded. He put down his bow. Vili and Ilona dropped their weapons. Barbarok warriors rushed forward to seize us.
Chapter Eighteen
Chief Csongor had us thrown into the same cell where Rodric and the others had been incarcerated only a few hours earlier. Rodric observed that we could have saved a lot of trouble if I’d just requested to join them in the first place rather than trying to get them released. I wearily agreed and then fell asleep.
I awoke feeling parched but considerably less fatigued. Vili handed me a cup of water and informed me we’d been imprisoned for nearly a day and a half. Rodric and Ilona sat together in a corner, talking quietly amongst themselves.
“It’s beginning to seem that the chieftain has forgotten about us,” Vili said.
“Perhaps,” I said, trying to affect an air of hopefulness. “Pillaging a city is undoubtedly time-consuming work. In any case, we may as well take the time to rest and prepare. The full moon is not for another ten days.”
We seemed to be the only prisoners in the dungeon below the palace; if the Barbaroki were bothering to take prisoners rather than simply slaughtering anyone who resisted, they were housed elsewhere. We took encouragement from the fact that ample food was delivered by a young slave girl every day. It seemed we had not been entirely forgotten. The slave girl spoke little Orszagish, though, and seemed to know very little about what was going on in the palace or in the city outside. The dungeon was constructed from part of one of the deep tunnels underlying the city; we could hear nothing of what transpired above through the thick rock.
Rodric, Vili and Ilona spent our time telling stories and practicing hand-to-hand combat, our weapons having been taken from us. Rodric was a fair wrestler, but Ilona knew throws and holds I’d never seen before. The acolytes had developed a fighting style that allowed her to use her opponent’s strength against him, and although I encouraged Rodric and Vili to learn it, I couldn’t see what good it would do against an opponent the size of Voros Korom, and of course it would be completely useless against the wraiths. At least it was something for them to do.
I met again with Eben several times to learn what I could about using tvari. When I was not meeting with Eben, I was practicing spells. I experimented cautiously with summoning kovets, knowing that a lapse in concentration could cause one to go berserk and kill us all. The thought that controlled the kovet had to be both undivided and specific. Conflicting intentions could cause problems, but so could vagueness: when I’d summoned the kovet to “protect us” from the Barbaroki, I’d been focusing on Rodric, Vili and Ilona. I’d intended it to protect the Governor as well, but that wasn’t what I’d communicated to the kovet, and the Barbarok chieftain had sensed this from the way the kovet acted. I would not make that mistake again.
I was convinced, though, that a kovet—even one as powerful as the one I’d summoned to protect us from the Barbaroki—would not be sufficient to kill Voros Korom. The demon was simply too big and too strong. We needed to attack him with everything we had, and that meant neutralizing the wraiths, at least for a few minutes. Even the full force of the Barbarok horde would be of no use agai
nst Voros Korom as long as the wraiths could sweep through our lines, killing or absorbing anyone in their path.
I tried to convert tvari to light and heat as Domokos had, but it was like trying to throw sand against the wind. The tvari simply dissipated, accomplishing nothing. I gathered from Eben’s cryptic explanations that Domokos either used a different sort of tvari or pulled it from a different place, causing it to manifest in a different way. I was using the power of a warlock, which meant it was easier for me to work with shadows than light. I would need to find another way to dispel the wraiths, but Eben was little help. He claimed to know several spells that would interfere with the wraiths’ ability to manifest themselves physically, but they were all so complex and esoteric that I despaired of ever mastering them. Besides, I was becoming convinced that Eben knew less about the nature of the wraiths than he let on. The spells he suggested seemed designed to work against any sort of spectral manifestation in Orszag, not specifically against the sort of beings that followed Voros Korom. The key, I thought, was the connection between Voros Korom and the wraiths. If I could learn more about the nature of tvari, I might be able to find a way to sever the source of energy that sustained the wraiths. Against Eben’s counsel, I gave up trying to learn specific offensive spells and focused on learning how to work with tvari.
When I wasn’t meeting with Eben or practicing, I slept. Sorcery is draining work, and traveling to Veszedelem even more so. My frequent trips to the shadow world also warped my conception of time; hours spent there were only minutes in the cell. I would work until exhaustion, sleep until I woke, and then work until I passed out again. I completely lost track of the passage of time. Weeks seem to pass. Then months. How long had I been in the cell? I had just asked Vili, hadn’t I? What had he said? Three days? No, that was a fortnight ago. And so it went.
At last a young Barbarok came to our cell and opened the door. “This way,” he said, without any ceremony.
I had just woken up. “How long has it been, Vili?”
“We’ve been in this cell six days, Konrad.”
Six days. That meant we had… four days until the full moon?
“Hurry up,” the Barbarok said. “The chieftain won’t wait all day.”
So at last we were going to be taken to the chieftain to determine our strategy for dealing with Voros Korom. It was none too soon. We filed out of the cell. The Barbarok gestured for us to go back up the passage through which we had entered. We did so.
We were taken to Chief Csongor, who sat with several other Barbaroki in a high-ceilinged room dominated by a large wooden table. Spread across the table were several maps painted on vellum; a young Barbarok man began rolling them up as we were escorted inside.
“Ah, the great sorcerer, Konrad, has arrived,” Csongor said. “Please, sit. What is your plan to save the city, sorcerer?”
I pulled out a chair and sat. Rodric took a seat to my left, and Vili and Ilona to my left.
“I have been practicing my craft,” I said. “I believe I can find a weakness in the wraiths. They are dependent for their existence on a flow of energy from Voros Korom. If I can sever that flow, I can destroy them. Once the wraiths are eliminated, defeating Voros Korom will be no great challenge, if we have enough men. I assume by now you have subjugated the entire city?”
“Pockets of resistance remain, but they are of no great concern. We have not penetrated the Hidden Quarter, but I understand there is little wealth there.”
While I was glad to hear the Hidden Quarter had been spared the ravages of the Barbaroki, I was puzzled by Csongor’s statement. “Will you not have to take the Hidden Quarter eventually in order to hold the city?”
“If I intended to hold the city, yes.”
I felt a tightness in my chest. All along, I had assumed the Barbaroki intended to seize Nagyvaros to establish a foothold to take the other cities along the Zold. It never occurred to me that they might plunder the city and leave.
“When will you go?”
“Preparations are being made now. We have taken what we can from the city and will head south tomorrow.”
“You fear the janissaries.”
“I fear nothing, but I suppose it unwise to expend so much effort to defend a city that is doomed to be destroyed by a demon.”
“What do you know of Voros Korom?”
“Enough. Did you think it a coincidence that we attacked only a few days before his coming? The plan had long been in place, but we had considered it too risky to implement. We were not certain the janissaries would fall for the ruse, but one of your kind warned us that if we intended to break through the janissary line, we would need to do it quickly.”
“One of my kind?” I asked. “A sorcerer?”
“So it appeared. He employed a spell to keep his face in shadow. We did not trust him, but he demonstrated his power to us. He caused an army of phantom warriors to appear before us, so real that my men charged them and many fell over each other trying to kill the phantoms. He used this same trick to fool General Bertrek into sending his men southward.”
The strange convergence of foes on Nagyvaros began to make more sense. But who could the mysterious sorcerer be? Had Radovan lived? Or was it once again the insane Bolond working his mischief?
“If you can hold Nagyvaros,” I said, “you will be unstoppable. The Barbaroki could take every city along the Zold and continue west.”
“It is not worth the risk. When I saw that the Governor had a sorcerer in his employ, I considered making a stand here, but I am not certain you have the power to vanquish the wraiths. The Barbaroki are fierce warriors, but they are not prepared to fight demons and ghosts. We will make Delivaros our home.”
“No!” cried Ilona. “Delivaros is no threat to you. We have remained neutral in the affairs of the Eastern Kingdoms for centuries and have always treated the Barbaroki with respect.”
“The acolytes are neutral when it suits them,” said Csongor. “Your persecution of sorcerers is selective, favoring kingdoms that are deferential to you. Even now, you consort with a sorcerer, although to what end I do not know.”
“I am not here as a representative of the acolytes.”
“Then do not speak as if you are,” Csongor snapped. “Enough of this. Delivaros will be mine. I have summoned you here for one reason. Indeed, there is but one reason you still live: I do not trust sorcerers, but I am even more loath to deal with demons. If by some miracle you are able to hold the city against Voros Korom, I want you to remember that I let you live.”
“You want us to be grateful to you for leaving us to die at the hands of Voros Korom?” Rodric asked.
Csongor shrugged. “If you die, your gratitude is of no concern. If you live, then it is in part because I did not kill you along with the Governor and his men. I only suggest that we might form an alliance in the future. If you successfully deal with the demon, you will have removed a threat to my rule in Orszag. Gratitude runs both ways. Now I must ask you to excuse me. There are many things I must address if we are to leave the city tomorrow.”
By this time the assistant had finished rolling up the maps and left the room. Now Csongor walked out as well, leaving the four of us alone. For some time, we sat in silence.
“What do we do now?” Vili asked at last. The palace was strangely quiet, as if it were nearly deserted.
“We cannot face Voros Korom alone,” Rodric said. “It is madness.” Ilona, still in shock about the possibility of the Barbaroki attacking Delivaros, said nothing.
“With some luck,” I said, “we will not have to. Did you see those maps? On one of them, the location of the Fourth Division had been marked with a grease pencil. If that map was accurate, General Bertrek’s force will be here by tomorrow. That is why the Barbaroki are in such a hurry to leave.”
“But Bertrek will want to pursue the Barbaroki south,” Rodric said. “He will not station his men in a city that has already fallen.”
“We only need him to leave a small conti
ngent of archers. Enough to overwhelm Voros Korom when I neutralize the wraiths.”
“If you neutralize them,” Rodric said. “How many archers do you think we will need?”
“I’d like five hundred,” I said. “But a hundred might suffice. The way Voros Korom blinks in and out of existence, he’s difficult to hit, and his skin is so thick that most of the arrows will hurt him no more than a splinter. But we’ve proven that he can be hurt. We just need to keep up the pressure.”
“There remains one other problem,” Rodric said. “Who is going to convince General Bertrek to leave five hundred of his men behind? I’m a deserter, and he’s certainly not going to trust the man he had sent to prison for six years on false charges. Vili’s just a child.” Vili looked like he wanted to protest but bit his tongue. We all looked to Ilona.
“You cannot be serious,” Ilona said. “The Barbaroki are about to attack my home, and you want me to beg the only man who can save it to leave some of his troops behind to fight a demon? This city is lost. If you still wish to do some good, let us go to Delivaros and make our stand there.”
“My fate is here,” I said.
“That is because you are a sorcerer. You deny it when it suits you, but you are already well down that path. And we have all seen where it leads. If you try to face this demon with more magic, you will only make things worse.”
“It is only because of magic that you are alive,” I reminded her. “Domokos saved all of our lives at Magas Komaron.”
“Then perhaps it would be better if I were dead. I have done no one any good since I left Delivaros.”
“Why did you leave?” Rodric asked. “Why did you seek Magas Komaron? It is clear you were not acting on orders from the Council.”
Ilona shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I was wrong to leave. I must return home and face the consequences. Maybe I can still do something to help save Delivaros.”
The Rise of the Demon Prince Page 16