The Heavenly Host (Demons of Astlan Book 2) (45 page)

Tom looked to Talarius and Antefalken.

“Well, we either go and look, and if need be head straight up, or we shoot straight up and out of this place right now,” Talarius said.

“I suspect they know we are here, as we aren’t that quiet, so if they’re going to shoot us out of the sky as we leave, or pursue us, going up to the dais probably won’t make a huge difference.” Antefalken shrugged.

Tom looked back to Talarius.

The knight sighed. “ This is your world, demon. I am a stranger here and don’t know the protocols of war on this plane.”

“I guess we follow Tizzy. However, when we get up there, I should probably take the first look. If they charge or start shooting stuff, I can probably fend them off long enough to give you guys time to flee.” Tom pointed straight upward.

He started down the bridge to the dais. He caught up with Tizzy at the foot of the stairs; the demon had not been walking that fast. Tizzy grinned at him. “Good, I was hoping you’d come. I’d much prefer you to go out there first in case they start shooting.”

“Thanks,” Tom said. That was what he had offered, but Tizzy made it sound worse.

“No problem!” Tizzy took a puff of his pipe.

Tom headed up the stairs, the others following. The stairs were sized a bit large for most of the other demons, but a bit small for him. Maybe they were D’Orc sized. Tom came to the top of the stairs behind the throne. It was a very large throne; it would be good sized even for Tom. He adjusted his grip on his mace, the Rod of Tommus, and confidently stepped out around the edge of the dais, ready for pandemonium.

The throne was raised a few feet above the dais, which appeared to be actually part of the throne. As Tom came around the right side of the throne, there appeared to be a holder for a rod about the height of Tom’s rod. Apparently, the previous owner of the rod had owned the throne as well. That would make sense.

As he came around the dais, he could see a large crowd of D’Orcs, perhaps two thousand as Estrebrius had said. They were all well ordered in sections of about 100 each, and all were on their knees, staring at the dais. There were a few still coming in from rear bridges and quietly kneeling in formation. He noticed they had been whispering, but they fell silent as Tom came around and stood before the throne.

Silence ruled. Tom had no idea what to do. For the moment he stood reviewing the mass of D’Orcs. They were rather ragtag and worn. There were men, women, and now more obviously children. All kneeling before the throne silently; a very unexpected turn of events. There was a loud rumbling from below them and another large burp. He watched for a reaction from the D’Orcs to see if they were frightened or concerned. Surprisingly, while most acted as if nothing had happened, some of the younger D’Orcs seemed excited or happy about the lava burp, as if it was hard to contain their glee.

He supposed he should say something.
But what?
Maybe he should start with something simple. He had no clue what to say that would not get him attacked. He had no idea what was going on. Maybe it was the rod they respected; raising that for them to see might be a good idea.

“Greetings. I am Tommus!” He raised the Rod of Tommus above his head for all to see. He had no real idea where this Tommus vs. Thomas pronunciation came from; it had just popped up and sounded a lot cooler. More demon-like.

A loud cheer rose from the D’Orc horde and they all suddenly started shouting. “Tommus! Tommus! Tommus!” Tom felt his stomach drop a bit.
Okay, not expecting that. Really.
This was getting stranger and stranger. They were chanting his name loudly and enthusiastically. He needed to initiate some real dialog, figure out what was going on. He gestured them to be quiet so he could speak.

“Who speaks for you?” Tom asked when they had quieted down.

There was a second or so of a pause and then a relatively well dressed, extremely large female D’Orc in the front row center stood up and bowed deeply before marching forward to the foot of the dais. She then knelt and bowed, her head touching the floor.

“Oh Great Master, Lord of Lords, Demon of Demons, I am Zelda, daughter of Trogthor, son of Mythgar, son of your faithful steward Grognar, who gave his last breath to defend this fortress from the clutches of Lilith the Eternally Damned. I am the last adult of my line and the leader of the Faithful. We have longed for this day when you would return to us reborn, oh mighty one! Long have we waited, bearing our shame and the shame of our forebears, and today we are overjoyed at your prophesied return!”

Still bowing and not looking at him, Zelda rose and gestured to the crowd behind her. “We beg your forgiveness for our sorry state, but rest assured we are ready for your commands, ready to strike your vengeance against those who have so gravely wronged you!”

Oh, shit,
was the only thing Tom could think.

DOF +4

Night 16-01-440

Jehenna took a sip of wine and gazed out over the city. She sat on Lenamare’s terrace with him as they wound down their long day. The glow of the wards cast a rather eerie light over the city.

“I was questioned by a sword today,” Lenamare said suddenly, apropos of nothing.

Jehenna blinked and glanced at him. “Someone questioned you at sword point? Why would you permit that?”

“Not at sword point.
By
a sword,” Lenamare replied, taking a sip of wine.

“A sellsword? I am not following,” Jehenna asked, puzzled.

“Yes, it was most odd. A walking, talking, intelligent sword,” Lenamare said matter-of-factly.

“Obviously, I am familiar with intelligent swords, but not ones that walk and talk. I am having trouble even conceiving of what that would mean,” Jehenna said.

“Think of an extremely finely crafted adamantite golem with a lot of razor-sharp edges. Clearly beyond what any normal wizard could create,” Lenamare said.

“So it just walked up to you and began interviewing you?” Jehenna asked, frowning.

“Well, it invited me back to my quarters to speak in private, but yes.”

“What on Astlan did it want?” Jehenna asked.

“Well, it calls itself Ruiden. Apparently it was, or is, the sword of Talarius and it is investigating his abduction.”

“Well, that’s unusual.” Jehenna was still frowning, trying to take this in. “What did it want with you?”

“It was aware that I was the first person to summon the greater demon,” Lenamare said.

“So what did it want?” Jehenna asked. “Did it want you to conjure it?”

“Indeed, it did. I demurred, saying the wards prevented it, and that even then, I would be hesitant to summon it to a place where people might be harmed.”

“Altruistic of you.” Jehenna said.

Lenamare chuckled. “The sword works for the Rod. That is the sort of logic they would consider, or at least one expects that they would. It seemed to understand.”

“So the interrogation was cordial?” Jehenna asked.

“Quite.” Lenamare shrugged. “I have to say the sword seemed quite reasonable, for a tool of death at least.”

“That’s nice, I guess.” Jehenna shook her head. “What else did you tell it?”

“I claimed that I had not realized how powerful the demon was and that subsequent information that the Council obtains makes me suspect that this greater demon was tied to the archdemons in the palace. In particular, I thought it, Ruiden, should consider speaking with Exador, should he ever come back; and that the Council believed Exador was an archdemon, likely in charge of the greater demon.”

Jehenna did a double take. “And did it buy this argument?” She seemed doubtful.

“The sword was noncommittal, but it did say that it had seen the crystal balling and had spotted Exador on the carpet with Ramses the Damned and the woman. It said it would be speaking to Exador upon his return.”

“Well, that’s something. I suspect that Exador will not like being quizzed by a sword. Particularly if the sword accuses him of being an archdemon.”

Lenamare grinned. “Exactly my thought.”

Jehenna chuckled and the two went back to silently looking out over the city, relaxing over their wine. After a few minutes of pleasant silence, Jehenna spoke up again.

“You know, I’m not sure about this proposal of yours today,” Jehenna said.

Lenamare glanced over at her. “My proposal? To the sword?”

Jehenna gently shook her head. “No, not that one. I am talking about the one that has us leaving the city should an archdemon Exador return to try and retrieve the book.”

Lenamare tilted his head in thought. “I’m not so sure it was so much a proposal as laying the groundwork for future options.”

“Hmm.” Jehenna took another sip and then continued with her point. “While I might agree there is some value in heading off someplace where Exador can’t find us to work on the book, should he actually find us, I think we are in a much more defensible position here.”

Lenamare chuckled softly. “Long term, or I suppose in general, I agree with that assessment. Weighing the extra safety in being somewhere Exador is unlikely to find us versus the increased risk when he does find us is a difficult proposition.” He took a sip of his own wine. “I’m not sure I want to have to make that calculation. On the other hand, the argument that the city and the Council would be much safer if we were gone when an archdemon Exador comes looking for us is a very easy argument to make.”

Jehenna grimaced. “I’m not sure I like your newfound altruism.”

Lenamare chuckled. “Far from altruism my dear; it is the foundation for doing what I suspect we may have to do anyway.”

Jehenna looked at him directly. “I’m not following.”

“I am coming to suspect that we are missing a key to opening this book. At this juncture, with the stakes this high, we can’t afford to outsource finding the key to another group of ne’er-do-well adventurers. We may have to seek it ourselves.” Jehenna nodded at this. “It is also unquestionably true that dragging our students along with us would be a huge hindrance.”

“Ahh.” Jehenna nodded, finally seeing his point. “So if we have to leave, and the reason we leave is the safety of the city and the Council, and that of our students, then we can get people here to take them off our hands for a while.”

“Exactly.” Lenamare smiled. “I’m looking for some babysitters.” They both laughed.

~

Arch-Diocate Iskerus looked up from the maps on the table to stare at Arch-Vicar General Barabus on the other side. “Once again, are we sure this is the best option?”

“And once again, I say I have no idea. I’m at a complete loss. The Knights are determined to rescue Talarius and seek vengeance and I—we—have a responsibility not to lose any more knights. So we must explore this option.”

“You will keep me informed of what you find in Keeper’s City? I find it very hard to trust the Oorstemothians,” Iskerus said.

“Church lawyers are confident of the Rod’s safety in Keeper’s City and our right to leave Keeper’s City, regardless of whether an agreement can be reached. We just need to verify that they can do what they claim they can do. Once that is done, it is an entirely different document for the joint resolution of whatever the hell flimflam they call it. Which again Church lawyers will relentlessly scour. Further, if we did do a joint mission, we would have our own lawyers with us to negotiate any disputes of interpretation that may arise.”

“Fine then. Your men will take the gateway to Hoggensforth in the morning, and then make sail for Keeper’s City in the evening.”

“Yes. We will station the remainder of the men we are withdrawing from here outside Hoggensforth, in preparation for whatever comes of the next round of negotiation, or whatever happens when the wards are lowered here,” Barabus said.

“I guess we are set then.” Iskerus shook his head, standing up.

“And Ruiden?” Barabus asked.

Iskerus shrugged. “I have not seen him today. I believe he has taken his investigation into the city.”

“And the city and palace guards are fine with a walking sword wandering around?” Barabus asked.

“It appears he took a ring of invisibility from Talarius’s arcane armory,” Iskerus said. “I had a brother keeping an eye on him and at one point, after exiting the burnt remains of Talarius’s tent, the sword vanished into thin air.”

Barabus raised his hands slightly as if pleading to Tiernon. “A magical sword wearing a magical ring?” He sighed. “I think I have now heard everything.”

Iskerus chuckled. “We are certainly living in interesting times.”

“I’m ready to go back to some boring times,” Barabus groused, shaking his head.

“I will second you on that,” Iskerus said, raising his hand in a farewell gesture as he moved towards the tent flap. “I will leave you to make your final rounds, so you can get some sleep for tomorrow.” He walked to the doorway. Looking back before exiting, he said, “And if you do reach an agreement for the next phase? Please do not feel obligated to invite me along.” Iskerus turned and left as Barabus chuckled.

~

“Excellent,” Tom said, realizing he had to say something. He needed to think fast. “We have much work to do.” He was making this up as he went along; he needed time to regroup. Looking down the dais at the demoness, he noted that there were stairs leading up from the platform to the dais. “You, all of you, have permission to be at ease. You may look at me. You are warriors, yes? Stand tall, stand proud.”

A ripple of something—relief, perhaps—seemed to circulate among the crowd. Zelda stood and looked at him proudly, and Tom thought, quite happily. Tom looked back at the throne; he needed to sit down, to think. It was a rather odd chair with what appeared to be two backs: the normal back he had seen from behind and then an inner back made of posts. He suddenly realized that the inner posts were actually cutouts for his wings. There was also a tail slot and a rather conveniently shaped seat. Tom turned and stepped up onto the throne and sat down, carefully fitting his wings between the posts. It really was surprisingly comfortable.

He placed his rod into the stand, its pointed end neatly fitting into the base. The world spun. Tom’s head was suddenly reeling as the staff to which he was intimately connected immediately merged into the throne, into the dais, into the platform, into the volcano! He could actually feel, sense the entire mountain region. The volcano, the caverns. His mind was able to trace every corridor, every room, every trap, every watch point. He had to close his eyes, it was so overwhelming. For the moment, he
was
the entire mountain range.

He released his grip on the rod and the feelings eased. He was still linked to the rod and thus to everything else, but the immediacy receded. He shook his head to clear it. Several of the D’Orcs laughed and others clapped. Clearly, they had known or suspected what would happen. “Well, that is something,” Tom said. Many other D’Orcs laughed at that.

“Our lord has now completely reestablished his dominion?” Zelda asked.

“I’m connected to it. I may have a few things to work out and understand,” Tom said, shaking his head.

“Great One, may our people approach and directly swear our fealty to you now?” Zelda asked. Tom had another
“oh, shit”
moment.

If he did this, he would be locking himself into being their leader under false pretenses. There would be no going back. It was a huge step. However, if he did not, who knew what would happen, how they would react. He was busily racking his brain trying to think how this sort of scenario played out in books and movies he had read and watched. At last, he gestured to Zelda. “Come to my throne; I would consult with you directly.”

Zelda nodded in acceptance and carefully climbed the dais, then approached the throne and knelt briefly before standing again. He gestured for her to come up close on his right-hand side, which she did.

Tom leaned down to speak with her privately. “I know this must come as a complete surprise, and very sudden for the people. We must, of course, have the swearing; however, are you sure that all of your people are ready and prepared for this after so long? I seek complete, unwavering loyalty and if we do this too quickly after so long, some may end up with reservations. I want no reservations.” He was pulling this out of his butt; he just needed to buy time to talk with the others.

Zelda blinked at this, uncertain, perhaps puzzled. He hoped he had not insulted her or her people. “I, uhm, had not thought of that. I just know that we have been waiting. Many were… on the verge… of losing hope. Many did lose hope, and so perished. You are right, My Lord, this is sudden. We should have a feast prepared to celebrate the oaths; we do not. We were not expecting you.”

“I think a celebratory feast is clearly necessary,” Tom said, grasping at anything. “How long will that take to prepare?”

Zelda shook her head. “I do not know; perhaps a few days. We need to get supplies from somewhere…”

“We need to plan. This must be done right!” Tom said decisively. “We will set the date once we have the feast planned.”

Zelda looked at him and nodded. “Perhaps I might simply introduce my commanders today?”

Tom nodded and stood up. “My people,” he began. Okay, that was presumptuous; he needed to play the part, though. “The Oath Taking is a momentous event and will deserve a celebratory feast. We will need time to prepare the feast; we must therefore plan for that and plan a time for the Oath Taking. Thus, for now, I would have Zelda present her commanders to me.”

Tom sat down and motioned to Zelda, who moved forward to address the crowd. “Commanders, attend!” At this order, about twenty D’Orcs came forward and knelt before the dais. Tom gestured for Zelda to bring them forward. She looked at him and made a gesture of one or all.

“Bring them all up together, as we will be for war councils,” Tom said, getting smiles and cheers from those who heard. The twenty D’Orc commanders came up the dais and knelt before Tom. It was getting a bit crowded; these D’Orcs were big.

“While we are at this, I should also introduce… uh, my entourage.” Tom could not think of what word to use. He seriously doubted that dark overlords had “friends.” He gestured behind the throne, hoping the others would see and come up, cautiously filing two by two around the throne and into view of the D’Orc commanders.