The Heavenly Host (Demons of Astlan Book 2) (72 page)

“The Grove? Is that a health food store or something?” Bess asked, causing Ramses to snort Denubian Choco-Coffee
TM
through his nose.

Exador grinned as well. “No, it’s some sort of extradimensional refugee camp for misfits, losers and tree-huggers.”

“A homeless shelter then,” Ramses snarked.

“As I recall, a rather difficult homeless shelter that caused you more than a little grief,” Exador said to Ramses.

The archdemon grimaced. “They are tenacious and have some very powerful defenses. We eventually gave up on them.”

“Well then, let us simply assume that these quest people are out of the picture, and hindering Lenamare’s progress with the book,” Bess said.

“I should think it would,” Exador agreed.

“We really need to get that thing into our hands and safely back in the Abyss,” Ramses said.

“Safely in the Abyss?” Exador asked. “I might question how safe this place is for that book.”

“Can you think of any place Lenamare is less likely to follow it?” Ramses asked. “After all, he sent his agents into Oorstemoth. There are very few places he won’t go.”

“I guess that leaves Tierhallon, or one of the Sibling realms,” Bess joked.

“Yes, there’s an idea. Hand the book over to Tiernon and see the end of the Abyss,” Ramses said. “He would use it to slay every single demon permanently.”

“Terribly unsociable fellow, it seems.” Bess grinned.

~

Sam stared out over the valley from the ledge of Tom’s cave. The cave was decidedly empty. He had been monitoring it for some time. Tom and his entourage had left on some expedition the day after he had met them at Hellsprings Eternal. They had not returned as he had expected. They had been gone for a good five days now.

The more troubling thing was that during the night, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern had left their clandestine post as well. That meant Lilith was not expecting Tom to return either. Had she captured them? Surely his spies in her camp would have alerted him.
Wouldn’t they?

Sam turned and reentered the cave. He had scoured it several times, both physically and magically, and there really was no clue as to where they might have gone. He felt thwarted. He did not like being thwarted.

Had he been spotted spying on them? Lilith’s toadies had no idea he had been monitoring them and the cave. He had spotted Rosencrantz and Guildenstern immediately, and shielded himself from them on several levels. They were incredibly inept, but it was possible, and in fact quite likely, that Tom was far more capable of spotting him than those two.

Of course, one reason for introducing himself as he had was to try to win the demon’s friendship. Tom had seemed receptive, so if he had been spotted, would Tom not have confronted him? Unless, of course, someone had recognized him.

Tom had not seemed to recognize him. Certainly, Sam did not have a clue who Tom was. He was sure the two of them had never met. Antefalken the bard, he knew; however, the bard should not have been able to see through his disguise. He was very tightly disguised on all levels in this almost never-used form.

The incubus and the two friends, Boggy and Estrebrius, were known entities and of no consequence. The mini-Tom demon was an unknown, as much as was Tom. Then there was Tisdale.

That walking, talking clown was always around when something big was about to happen. He had a way of always being at the fringes of everything important. He never got involved, never took sides; in retrospect, that was probably why he was still alive. Could Tizzy have recognized him?

While Tizzy was only a fiend, he was a very old fiend. Sam had known of Tizzy for longer than just about any demon other than Lilith. While they rarely traveled in the same circles, a meeting every few decades over countless millennia did breed a certain level of familiarity.

Even if Tizzy had somehow recognized him, it would be unusual for Tizzy to have said anything unless directly questioned. Even upon direct questioning, there was no guessing what the demon might say. Sam shook his head. He would need to go talk to his agents in Lilith’s camp as well as in others. Perhaps there was some other key event that had happened recently that might give him a clue where Tom and his entourage had gone.

DOF +9

Early Morning 16-06-440

Sirs Gadius and Gaius walked down the tightly manicured boulevard running from the west gate of Keeper’s City towards the government buildings. As expected, entering Keeper’s City had been complicated. Having been warned by the Church lawyers and diplomats, who specialized in Oorstemothian protocol, they had known that as members of a recognized military organization, their entry would be more complicated. Members of known militias were required to sign in and out of the city and present their papers at the gate and have them on them at all times.

It had been for this reason that they had chosen to enter the city on foot rather than their more traditional mounted style. If they had done that, it would have drawn too much attention and once inside, only one of them would be registered.

“However do they keep these smoothly paved streets so clean?” Gaius asked Gadius, gesturing at the boulevard of clean white stone pavement, curbs and planters. His obsidian chain mail and black leather gauntlets made a sharp contrast to the white stone as his arm swept out.

“By arresting the dust and debris religiously?” Gadius responded jokingly.

“One would think they must.” Gaius shook his head. “Did you by any chance nod off when that one visa official started rattling off the rules of work within the city? I thought I saw your eyes close and heard a small snore.”

Gadius laughed. “I may have; these people are incredibly long winded. Where is this recommended tavern?” he asked, referring to the tavern that the Church diplomats had recommended as a rendezvous point within the city. The Rod had no presence within Keeper’s City; nor, for that matter, within Oorstemoth. This was completely due to Oorstemothian Defense Regulations regarding foreign military forces. The Church, on the other hand, had a relatively robust, purely non-military presence within the country.

It was only under the very odd circumstances being negotiated by the leadership teams of the Church and Rod with Oorstemoth that allowed the Rod’s presence within the nation. They had had to show the papers provided them by Heron’s people to get into the city at all. Of course, as Knights Rampant, they could come and go unofficially as their Holy Mission demanded, and if discovered, the Church and Rod would back them and deal with any repercussions. After the first few hundred years of this, however, and more than a few “repercussions,” the Church had decided to do two things: first, increase stealth capability via both training and Holy Relics of the Knights, and second, increasingly counsel patience regarding Holy Missions within Oorstemoth.

“The tavern is down three more streets, then to the left and about another block,” Gaius said.

“I swear you seem to hear more outside the tent and a hundred feet away than I do inside the tent.” Gadius shook his head.

Gaius smiled. “And isn’t it the same for you?”

Gadius shrugged; when he was outside, he was not as enthusiastic about listening in on distant conversations that Gaius might be having. Gaius was the one with all the curiosity. He shook his head. “It should be the same either way!”

Gaius grinned even more broadly. “I think it’s because inside the tent, one is too distracted by the stench of sweat and oiled armor. Not to mention the claustrophobia of being inside a tent with half a dozen Rod members.”

“It would be better if other Rod members bathed more,” Gadius admitted, making a distasteful expression. The two continued in silence for a while, gathering stares from the other pedestrians.

Gadius was not sure if this was due to the fact that they were non-Oorstemothian military, or to their admittedly unique appearance. Two knights of near identical height and weight, one with alabaster skin and fair hair dressed in shimmering white mail and a white tabard trimmed in silver, the other with a deep midnight complexion and tightly cut, military style black curly hair, dressed in obsidian black chain mail with a black tabard trimmed in gold. Both tabards were emblazoned with the Rod’s symbol, as were their great cloaks. Both knights were armed to the teeth with weapons strapped to their bodies and giant swords crossed with pikes with either pearlescent or obsidian heads.

Gadius shrugged; in most places, it was their striking appearance as individuals or as a pair that garnered the attention. Although if either of them was mounted, the attention was always on the mount. He grinned; this was the one place where he was not sure of the source of the stares. All Oorstemothian soldiers were immaculately uniformed in expensive outfits. Given that all civilians seemed remarkably unarmed, the presence of well-armed knights not of Oorstemothian origin should be unique as well.

They turned the corner on the designated street and continued on silently for a block before coming to the door of the recommended tavern.

“The Unicorn’s Tale,” Gadius observed sourly, reading the sign.

Gaius laughed. “Well, at least it’s a story and not a tail.”

“Such jokes are not funny; nor are such plays on words,” Gadius stated firmly.

Gaius laughed again and slapped Gadius on the back. “You really should not take everything so seriously or personally. Do you think anyone in Oorstemoth has even seen a unicorn? Unicorns are merely myths here.”

Gadius gave him a dark grin and a stare. “So you are saying it is good we entered the way we did, so as to continue the myth? That would seem to do nothing but perpetuate stereotypes. Better to let people understand the reality, to accept it.”

“How many times must we argue this? Yes, the truth is best served by openness and honesty, but sometimes more good can be served if there is some mystery left in the world,” Gaius said.

Gadius smiled. “Neither of us will win this argument. I am too pragmatic to force any such issue in the real world prematurely, so we are where we always are.”

“Where almost everyone has been for centuries. Fortunately, scarcity makes the choice effectively moot,” Gaius said as they walked up to the bar. He made a small motion with his hand to end the discussion now that others were present. They had noted the posted time of day during which alcohol was sold at the door’s entrance. It was still a bit early, but the tavern was open for alcohol now, and they had been travelling the aether for several days.

“Ah, my good barman, might we purchase one of your fine libations? An ale perhaps?” Gaius asked.

The barman nodded in greeting at the two. “Certainly; two ales it is then?” Gaius nodded.

Smiling, the barman reached down below the bar and pulled up two sets of documents bound by a small string loop in the upper left corner. The documents appeared to be some form of contract. “I just need you to sign the waiver of liability, the acknowledgement of the health dangers of alcohol, tobacco and other substances within our foods, along with the absolution of responsibility for any actions taken by you after partaking in food and beverage within these premises.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Just the standard stuff you have to sign everywhere these days. Nothing unusual, all on the same old eight pages.” He shrugged. “Oh, and of course, an ID to verify the name and signature.”

Gadius shook his head and grinned. He had heard stories, but no one seriously believed them. He now believed. These Oorstemothians were something else. He found it amazing that Oorstemoth could maintain such an efficient and flexible army and navy with so much paperwork. Normal soldiers everywhere else could barely read, let alone understand and sign contracts. He frowned. Oorstemoth must have a very highly educated population if they were all expected to sign and understand legal contracts for everyday activities. After they had signed the documents, the barman handed them each a small bracelet with an odd charm on it to wear on their wrists.

“These indicate that we have your paperwork on file. You can add charms from other taverns and bars if you need to,” The bartender said.

“Interesting… quite useful, it would seem,” Gaius noted to the man.

“That’s the advantage of the strong guild system here. The Tavern Keeper’s Guild ensures that all inns, bars, taverns and other similarly licensed establishments all cooperate to ease the overhead cost in ensuring that all patrons are properly informed and up to date on their agreements with the establishments.”

“Curious,” Gaius said, looking at the charm and ensuring it was not too magical. Simply a small, inscribed runic symbol with an object link back to a centering piece in this tavern.

While the two knights were fastening on their bracelets, the barman poured each of them a house ale from a cask. Gadius raised his eyebrows in surprise as the barman set down two frosty glass mugs of ale. He was not sure if he was more surprised by the glass mugs, or the fact that they served their beer cold. He and Gadius generally preferred cold beer, but as Knights Rampant they were often adventuring in backwaters without the resources to chill beverages.

Sitting at a table near the bar, the two knights had finished about half of their ale when the tavern door opened and a loud, deep tenor voice called, “Like night and day—if it isn’t Salt and Pepper!” The two knights grinned to each other and turned to salute the new arrival with their ales.

“Sir Lady Serah!” Gaius greeted the arriving knight.

“That’s Sir Serah to you, Knight!” Serah laughed. “You know what I think of that ‘Lady’ crap. I ain’t no lady, I’m a Knight Rampant of Tiernon.”

“You really can’t blame the Church hierarchy for maintaining archaic and patronizing forms of address,” Gadius said. “It’s just part of their nature, ingrained for millennia.”

Serah snorted as she pulled up a chair to their table. “Jaedall, a pint of Neurien mead!” she called to the barman, flashing a bracelet with multiple charms on it.

It was Gaius’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “I take it you are familiar with the city?”

She flashed him a grin as she pulled her large helm off and shook her insanely long hair, nearly two inches long, free of the helm. “Not officially.” She grinned.

“You really need a haircut, soldier,” Gadius said with a grin. He knew how much she disliked having long hair. She must have been on a rather intense mission.

“Tell me. Fortunately, I have paperwork with a couple of good barbers here,” Serah replied.

“You need to sign papers with a barber?” Gaius asked.

“What if they cut your neck by mistake while trimming your beard?” Serah asked.

“Is that actually a problem you have to worry about?” Gadius asked her. She punched him in the shoulder.

“You get my point; a barber brings a sharp blade close to people’s throats. They are all bonded and insured. Also, my understanding is that for certain high officials, it’s best to have a clear design plan agreed upon before starting to style said person’s hair. It avoids a lot of court time if they are unhappy with the new look.”

Gadius and Gaius shook their heads in wonder at the complexity of this city.

“So other than that, what all can you tell me?” Serah asked. “I’m sure I got the same initial message, which sounds appalling, but then I got a second message to come here when I couldn’t get to Freehold before you left.”

“Are you up to date on Freehold?” Gaius asked.

“All I know is that Talarius was cruelly defeated and kidnapped by a demon.” She shook her head. “It sounds impossible. He’s bested more demons than I can count.”

“Not just any demon, an archdemon. And there were at least two more, along with a few greater demons,” Gadius said.

“Archaedemons? Multiple archaedemons?” Sera asked.

“Well, yes, and well over a thousand other lesser demons that had been infesting Freehold.” Gaius shrugged.

Serah gave them a double take. “You are going to have to tell me more!” she commanded.

~

“This place makes Gizzor Del seem civilized!” Jenn complained as she, Gastropé, Danfaêr and Treyfoêr made their way down the cramped stone street towards the apothecary. As cramped as the small street was for her, she could only imagine what it felt like to the aetós.

They had arrived shortly after dawn. Trefalger, the second mate, and Seamach began putting together landing parties. All five people from the Council party were going down: Trevin, Maelen, Elrose, Jenn, Gastropé, along with Seamach the scout, Bealach the navigator, Trefalger, four of the aetós guardians and four of the dwarf guardians.

“I have not been to Gizzor Del, but I have heard of it,” Danfaêr said. “But given these horribly confining streets, I can’t see how it could have been conceivably worse!”

“I do not like all the little tunnels where people’s homes have extended so far over the street that they are bumping into the apartments on the other side and cutting off the sky above!” Treyfoêr said.

“Why even groundlings would want to live like this is beyond me!   It’s like a cage, complete with a dung-strewn floor!” Danfaêr said, trying to scrape some excrement off his right boot.

“Who would have thought being cooped up for days inside a cloud would feel less confining?” Gastropé added with the others nodding in agreement.

They had made a quick descent on the carpets, diving out of the sky at a far faster pace than they had when going up to the Nimbus at the first town, albeit more restrained than during combat. The pilots had landed them outside of town and they had split up into different groups to gather various supplies. The plan was to all rendezvous at a large tavern named “The Alfar’s Arse,” oddly enough run by an alvaren couple for the last seven hundred years. It had a good-sized banquet room that Seamach had rented out for the day. Seamach had told them that there would be snacks, beer and wine available and paid for throughout the day and that they would be having dinner in the evening with some of his friends.