Into The Abyss (Demons of Astlan) (33 page)

It was late, the second hour past the middle of the night, when Exador finally teleported into the room his servants had reserved for him in Freehold.  He almost felt tired.  While normally he didn't need much, if any, sleep, the long heated battle planning session with Ramses and Bess had gone on for a long time.  Too long, he was sure.  The price of dealing with fools, Exador decided.

He'd just decided he would sleep, and was undressing for bed when he felt a tingle in the medallion around his neck.  Now why, Exador wondered, would his people be contacting him at this hour of the night?  The medallion was Object Linked to medallions worn by all his wizards.  While it did allow him to locate them at any time, which was technically unnecessary since he'd bound them all to him personally, the primary purpose of the medallions was to allow them to contact him whenever needed.  Fortunately, after a few graphic examples, they'd learned not to contact him
frivolously.

He grasped the medallion in his hand and opened his mind.  In his head formed an image of the wizard Treledor.  Treledor was
the senior-most wizard with the army.  The mental image of the wizard seemed to be sweating. How strange, thought Exador, preparing for bad news. 

Lord
, the mental voice of the wizard began,
we've had a bit of a problem here
.

Problem?
  Exador inquired, maintaining his calm.

Well, m'Lord, as you instructed, we sent demons to fetch the rest of the caravan that the wizard
Gastropé  found.

Yes
, Exador stated.

The fourth order demon was still with the caravan, or what was left of it, only a girl and a small child.  They were able to capture the girl and bring her back.  The child was too close to the fourth order to be kidnapped.

Fine
. Exador’s patience was beginning to wear thin, but Treledor was getting even more nervous.

Well, Major Zachs questioned her, took her possessions, and placed her in the prisoner tent to await your return.
 
Exador said nothing; he waited for the wizard to continue.

Sometime later, a few hours ago
,  the sentries found a small boy wandering around the perimeter, crying and looking for his sister. 
Exador's eyes narrowed.

The
wizard continued,
fearing a trap, the major sent men to check for the possibility of more people around the perimeter.  The child seemed harmless, so he was tied up and placed in the prisoner tent.

Get on with it.
  Exador instructed, impatiently.

Well...well, very shortly after that, the prisoner tent caught on fire.
Treledor reported hesitantly
.

Fire?
Exador stated, beginning to get angry.

Well, it seems that, well...when guards ran into investigate, the girl was free and so was the boy.  One of them, presumably the girl
, must have been Jehenna in disguise, she summoned the fourth order demon!
  Exador was gritting his teeth.  He was not going to get angry, he told himself, he would keep control.

Uhm, well, the demon took out the guards and then opened a gateway for Jehenna, the boy, and Gastrope
’  to escape. Uhm. 

Gastrop
é?
Exador decided then and there the young wizard was worse than dead the next time he saw him.  Amazing really, how well he was handling this, Exador congratulated himself.  He was incredibly angry at the moment, but he was sure it barely showed.  His people were all incompetent. 
Did it ever occur to anyone to see if the young boy was the same one with the caravan originally?  Did it ever occur to anyone there that he might be used as a locator for the FOURTH ORDER DEMON?
Exador asked, increasing his mental tone as he went on.

Uhm, no, but, well, I wasn't informed of this until too late, the major....
Treledor was cut off by Exador.

Fine, this girl, what did she have on her?
It was doubtful any of his demons could have captured Jehenna, must have been some other girl, Exador thought.

Not much, uhm, let me think...just normal spell components that a journeyman wizard might have, no spell books, but oh, yeah, a small red diary that was magically locked.  Strange sort of.

Magically locked book?
Exador went deathly still.  His anger was forgotten.  His mind totally fixed on what Treledor was saying
.  Did you try and open it?  Determine anything about it?

Well, yes, but it was a really strange spell, none of us could figure it out.  Certainly something more powerful than any journeyman should be able to cast.  That's why we think she was Jehenna.

Praise be! Praise be!
  Exador thought silently to himself, he was almost jumping up and down
.  The book!
  The damn book was in his hands!  It had to be!  Here it had fallen directly into his hands.  Surely, fate favored him!  He was jumping up and down, plans running through his mind.  His!  All his!

Don't
touch that book! I will be right back for it.  I think I know what to do with it.
Exador admonished.  He had to be careful, he couldn't make it sound too important until he had it in his own physical hands.  He couldn't wait.  He had to remain calm he told himself.

Well...you know...that's the funny thing
, Treledor commented.  Exador went cold, very cold.  Treledor continued on, oblivious,
the book seems to have disappeared in all the confusion.  Maybe the demon got it...

Many miles away, for the second time in as many days, there was a large explosion in the field where Lenamare's school had been.  For the second time in the same evening,  tents became raging bonfires.  This time it started with the tent of the wizard Treledor.  It had suddenly burst into a giant incandescent ball of fire.  The fire had been so intense, in fact, that it melted the soldiers in the adjacent tents.  A
bit further away, Major Zachs was glad he hadn't been the bearer of bad news.  He was not, however, looking forward to Exador's return. 

The psuedo-sunlight of the Courts' version of morning was shining through the windows of the tavern in which Antefalken sat.  He was seated in the corner of one of his favorite taverns on the outskirts of the Courts sipping a fresh hot cup of Denubian Choco-Coffee
TM
.  It was a nice morning, as such things went in a land with no sun.  The Courts of course, for the comfort and amusement of most of the inhabitants, had periods of light and darkness, but these were completely artificial, imposed by its rulers.   It had now been light for several hours and Antefalken had taken his leave of his evening host an hour or so ago.

While the night had been not as satisfactory in terms of information
as he’d hoped, it had not been wholly wasted.  Lilith was always enjoyable.  It wasn't often that he got to be with 'an older woman,' but then, as far as he knew, there weren't any women older than her.  Not that he'd be so crass as to say so to her face, mind.  Not that her face looked it even, on the contrary, she could look, and did look, like any woman of any age, of any species.  Of course while this could be amusing for fantasies, it did become a bit unnerving when she changed appearance during the act itself.  Howling like a wolf-bitch in heat had a completely different meaning for  Lilith.  Nonetheless, they both enjoyed getting together every decade or so for a quick roll in the hay.  Although then again, that new bed of spikes of hers wasn't exactly hay, Antefalken reflected, but it was the thought that counted.

Unfortunately, she'd had little information of use to him.  Mainly just the standard intrigues of any court, demonic or otherwise.  It also seemed Faust was convinced that some of the Arch Demons had run across some item
guaranteed to upset the hierarchy of the Abyss, permanently.  He was convinced that they had some plan to enslave the Demon Princes and set themselves up as rulers, but then Faust was always paranoid. 
Probably because he'd come to power in much the same manner
, reflected Antefalken.  Other than that and a few other interesting but useless tidbits, he'd come up dry. 
Not in bed, that was, but in terms of information
, he quickly corrected himself in his thoughts.

"Anty! Dear chap!"  a voice called.  He looked over to where the voice had hailed him.  He noted a familiar looking demon, wincing and holding its head, obviously regretting the loud nature of its own outburst.  Near the bar, just getting a cup of choco-coffee was Bogsworth.  He hadn't seen Boggy in at least a quarter of a century.  When Boggy looked up again, after recovering, Antefalken waved him over.

While Boggy certainly didn't run in the circles where the information Antefalken needed was likely to be found, talking to the loquacious demon was always amusing, and sometimes informative.  Plus, Boggy was a good friend, as demons go. 

Boggy made his way over to Antefalken's table, carefully guarding his choco-coffee agains
t spillage.  By his movements, Antefalken noted a severe hangover on Bogsworth's part.  For a demon, that indicated a truly prodigious amount of alcohol.  The equivalent of a couple gallons of pure grain spirits at the least.  Boggy sat down clumsily, across from Antefalken.

"So Boggy, what's the cause for celebration and inebriation?"  Antefalken started with.

"That most joyous of all occasions in a demon's life!  Oh..." Boggy winced and picked up his choco-coffee for a sip.

"You offed your Accursed Master?"  Antefalken asked, pleasantly pleased for Boggy.

"Most certainly.  And most naturally, thereafter, I cel-ebriated."  Boggy sipped some more choco-coffee, his eyes still squinting in the morning's light.  "Perhaps a bit too much."

"Aaah, but how often do you get the chance?  Now you're a free man again."

"Aye, for a few decades at least.  I'm pretty sure I took care of all loose ends."  Boggy said, the choco-coffee starting to bring him back to life.  There was nothing like Denubian Choco-Coffee
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to bring a demon back into action.  Only Denubians and demons could drink the stuff, it was just a bit too strong and bitter for mortals.  Also the caffeine rush tended to cause immediate cardiac arrest in many mortal types.

"Well, I hope you didn't celebrate alone
.  I wished I'd known; I'd have joined you for a drink."  Antefalken toasted Boggy with his choco-coffee.

"No, no, had several friends around," Boggy looked around, "not sure where they went..."  Boggy signaled the bartender to bring over another cup of choco-coffee.  "Actually, managed to get in a couple knock
-down, drag-out brawls along the way too.  I think...I don't recall too well."  Boggy tenderly fingered his ear.  He seemed to recall getting it ripped off at one point.  "Course, it'd been real nice to have Tom around then.  Nothing like a four in a bar brawl.  But him being a newbie and all, he got a little squeamish when I regaled him of the glorious event."

Antefalken's ears pricked up.  He went from pleasant reminiscence to intense
curiosity at Boggy's words.  "A newbie you said?  and fourth order?"  This was just what he was looking for.

"Yep.  Kid's got guts.  Tougher than nails too.  Someday he's gonna be mighty kickass if he ever figures out what he can do.  Already he's probably a match for any of the weaker fours.  Just gotta get over this silly squeamishness of his."

"Who's his A.M.?"  Antefalken prodded, this could be it.

"Ahhh jeessse, I don't know, it's hard enough to think after the last couple nights."  Boggy stopped to try and remember, "Lenny something.  I don't know, an Accursed Master is an Accursed Master."

"Lenamare..." Antefalken said softly.

"Yep, that's the one!  You know him?"

"By reputation only, supposedly got a real big ego."

"Could be, could be.  Certainly using the kid for rather podunk stuff."

It would probably be best not to give away too much of his interest to Boggy, he really didn't want Boggy telling any fourth order, new or not, that he'd been asking about him.  "Well most those wizards do.  Have to have big egos, I'd suppose, in order to think they can go around enslaving anybody they feel like."  Antefalken diverted the topic.  He knew this would get Boggy going on for a few hours.  Now if only he could somehow indirectly find out where this newbie lived.

~

Master Hortwell gently floated down from his flying perch in the sky.  It was certain, some other small army was camped to the south.  Must be Zilquar, late as usual.  So what to do?  Hortwell guessed the best thing to do might be to meet up with Zilquar's people.  Then what? Take out the remains of Exador's army?  It was not worthwhile, still probably too many wizards and demons to allow them to take it easily.  March around Exador's people and head to Freehold?  Hortwell knew that was where Lenamare and Jehenna would be heading.  Lenamare would probably need all the support he could get.

Actually, that was probably where he should be now, anyway.  Unfortunately, he'd been unconscious for some time and when he'd come to, he'd been too weak.  Then the
big boom spell went off, and he'd used up all the mana he'd regained as well as draining his reserve amulet to shield them from the fallout   By the time he'd recovered from that, things started getting interesting down in Exador's camp and he decided to stay the night.  Then about an hour ago, it'd gotten interesting again.

He'd just gone up to look to see if things had calmed down any and had spotted the other fires to the
south.  There wasn't much he could do about it now; it was rather late.  It would probably be best just to try and sleep for the rest of the night.  He still wasn't comfortable sleeping with Zargoffelstan roaming free while he slept, but he had to admit, the demon hadn't killed him while he was out.  In fact the fool thing had even gone and tended him and built a hut!  Imagine that, it had certainly surprised Hortwell more than he could possibly admit.  Why a demon should behave so out of character was rather unnerving, even if he had known the demon for a great many years.  Zargoffelstan had always been a rather low key demon as demon's went, but even so, this was most intriguing.  

He hadn't probed the demon too hard about it.  It was, after all, roaming completely free.  He'd like to have penned it up or sent it back, but with all the soldiers around, sending it back didn't seem too wise, and penning it up seemed a bit rude at this point.  Further, the last time he thought he'd had it penned up, it got free and killed the soldiers, so penning didn't seem too practical, at least not without wasting a lot of energy that could be better spent for other spells.

Things were as things were, Hortwell supposed.  He might as well sleep while he could and join Zilquar in the morning.  He walked back over to the log cabin and went to his makeshift cot.  The demon really had done a remarkable job.  He'd have to think of some form of suitable reward for it.  Hortwell was a firm believer in just rewards and punishments.  Some reward was certainly appropriate in the current circumstances; he would just have to determine what.