‘But I have learned since my acolyte days that the universe is far more complicated than any of us will ever understand and the roles of our gods are not necessarily what we think them to be at times. Demons are by nature . . . well, they’re not natural,’ he said with a shrug. ‘Or at least not in this realm. They come from somewhere else and don’t belong here.’
‘Then why do they want to be here?’ asked James.
‘You mean the ones that aren’t summoned?’
James nodded.
‘No one knows, or at least no one who’s written anything on the subject. I did a little poking around after our last conversation and I have a friend who’s a prior at the Temple of Dala. They’re among the most keen demon-hunters in the world: their Order of the Shield of the Weak specializes in ridding this world of demons.’ He rose and reached over to his cluttered shelf and pulled down a small book. It was leather-bound and ancient. ‘He lent me this.’
‘What is it?’ asked James.
‘A little tome penned by a monk named Auric of Tyr-Sog, copied several times by the order of Dala. This is the prior’s personal copy which I shall shortly return to him.’
‘Anything interesting in it?’
‘Two things, really. One is an attempt at a taxonomy of demons, which isn’t half bad once you learn to ignore the terrible writing and love of flowery description. The second is a reference to an ancient Keshian text reputedly in the library in Queg, the title of which loosely translates as The Large Great Book of Demons.’ He held out his hands. ‘I think it means it’s both a large book and great with details.’
‘Next time I’m in Queg I’ll give it a glance,’ said James, wincing slightly as he moved his left arm. ‘Don’t suppose you have anything for a banged-up shoulder, do you?’
‘Not among my skills, sorry to say.’
‘Don’t think anything’s broken, but I thumped that arm and almost dislocated my shoulder.’
‘Let me look.’ He gently reached over and touched James’s shoulder. Then he gripped it hard, one hand on the front, the other on the back of the joint, and twisted. There was a loud pop, followed almost instantly by James gasping in pain. ‘Nothing almost, lad. That was a partial dislocation, and I’ve set a few. Many of our master’s followers have a nasty habit of falling off roofs or walls and the like.’
James rubbed his sore shoulder and forced himself back to the subject in hand. ‘The book?’
‘Yes, it details a bit more of what I was telling you, about the different types of demons.’ The monk seemed almost enthusiastic. ‘There are three general types, as I said: the big physical monsters that get summoned, a few of whom even have their own magic, and those that seize the bodies of humans and take them over. And there are those that can shape change, and look like humans.’
‘Shape change?’
‘A few. From what I’ve been told that’s a very difficult magic. Usually, they cast a glamour, to fool the eye.’
James shook his head. ‘Seems to me that the spell that would do that would be big enough for a good magician to detect.’
‘I would expect so, too, but then we’re not talking human magic here, are we?’
James sat back. ‘Tell me more about those spirit demons that take over humans.’
‘Well, let’s see,’ said the monk, thumbing through the small book. ‘It says here, once they take over a human they become very difficult to kill. Seems it’s partly to do with the magic and partly that they don’t care how much damage the human takes because it’s not their body. If the host dies, they flee.’
‘Flee? Where?’
‘Some speculation on that subject, but most sources suggest they return to the lower hells. They have to have a second living host nearby to leave the first one and move to another; again, this is mostly speculation.’
James said, ‘So, difficult to kill and . . . That doesn’t leave the host any happy outcome, does it?’
‘Not unless you’ve got a banishment spell and can confine the host safely. Then an exorcism will drive it out.’
James remembered the demon that was banished in the basement below Lucky Pete’s in Krondor. ‘I’ve seen a banishment. Is it like that?’
‘Something like that. You have to bind the human host, to protect it, then a priest can banish the demon and save the host. Some of the better-trained members of the Order of the Shield of the Weak can, as well.’ He lowered his voice a little. ‘Though truth to tell, they’re a fair lot for just bashing first and asking questions second.’
James mulled this over, then asked, ‘Anyone in the city with the skills?’
‘Certainly,’ said Eli. ‘My friend the prior to start with, and maybe three or four others.’
‘That’s good to know,’ said James, standing.
‘One more thing about the exorcism,’ added Eli.
‘What?’
‘If the demon’s been inside too long, there’s not much of the host left. The body may be fine, but the mind . . .’ He grimaced. ‘Living as a drooling, mindless creature, or death; I’ll leave it to you to decide which is the kinder fate.’ He paused, then added, ‘And there was one story of a demon killed by a Knight-Adamant of Sung; it possessed the head of a very powerful family in Kesh by taking over a merchant who then mysteriously died while serving the son of the noble, who some time later died alone in his father’s company. Caused a stir when the knight stormed in and killed the father, but when people saw the demon flee – big cloud of smoke and stench – then considered the untimely deaths . . .’ He shrugged. ‘But we’re still left with the why of it, aren’t we? What did the demon want?’
James looked at Brother Eli and said, ‘Thank you. When this is done, I’m going to send you something, but for the moment this will have to do.’ He reached into his belt pouch and pulled out a gold coin and handed it to the monk.
‘A sovereign,’ said Eli with a smile. ‘Not a small gift.’
‘There’ll be more. One more thing. Tell me, why is there no organization to the thieves here? Nothing like the Ragged Brotherhood or the Mockers?’
‘Long story,’ said Eli. ‘But the short of it is, over the years the governors of Durbin and the Captains of the Coast were pretty brutal in killing off the competition, as it were. So the thieves and bashers, the whores and pickpockets, well, they just go it alone or find a patron.’
‘Patron?’
‘A particularly powerful merchant who puts the word out that this lad or that girl is his, and anyone who messes with them has a price to pay. Each ship’s captain, each bandit chief, they have their boys and girls around the city. You thinking of reaching out from Krondor for the Mockers?’
James laughed. ‘Let’s say I’m not on the best of terms with my former brethren.’ He thought for a minute, then added, ‘Can you find me a couple of smart, trustworthy lads?’
‘I can.’
‘One’s a fast rider?’
‘As well.’
‘Good,’ said James. ‘First I’d like a lad to amble over to the Jade Monkey and poke around a bit. He’s not to say anything about who sent him, but just look around. I want to know if business has returned to normal and the girl known as Jade is well, then he’s to seek out my companions, or at least rumour of their whereabouts, should he not see them at the Jade Monkey.
‘Then send that rider to the oasis three days to the south-west and pass a note to whichever Hazara-Khan noble happens to be in charge.’ He glanced around. ‘You have pen and parchment?’
‘I do,’ said the monk, indicating the desk.
James handed him a half-dozen silver coins, then took up pen and parchment and scribbled a long note, then folded it and folded it again. ‘Your rider needs to leave now and with all haste get this to the family of Lord Hazara-Khan at the Bal-Shala oasis.’
Eli stood up. ‘I shall see to it at once, young sir. And where will I find you should the boy encounter your friends?’
James said, ‘If you have no objections, I’ll w
ait here a while.’
The monk nodded and James lay back down on the bed, trying to find some ease for the still-aching shoulder and sharp splinter wounds, despite the stench in the hovel. As sleep sought to overtake him, he redoubled his vow to send new bedding to Brother Eli as soon as possible.
• CHAPTER THIRTEEN •
Realization
WILLIAM SANK DOWN IN THE DOORWAY.
He had left the Jade Monkey and tried as best he could to determine where Jazhara had been taken. After nearly an hour of wandering the dark streets in a cloak he had purloined from an unconscious drunk outside an inn, he had reached the point of despair. He had no clue as to where James was, nor to whom to turn. The city watch was corrupt beyond imagining and James carried the gold for the party. They would refuse to lift a finger to help without a significant bribe.
He thought of going to the governor, but like James, distrusted the man and thought he might even be party to the assault. His mind raced but he couldn’t come up with a coherent thought, let alone a plan.
He was now opposite the entrance to the Jade Monkey, crouched in a doorway in the pre-dawn gloom, not trusting it to be safe to re-enter. His attackers might have returned. So, lacking a better plan, he decided to wait until sunrise before entering, and perhaps until he saw James return, if he also wasn’t abducted.
He was wondering if, once the sun was up, perhaps he might return to the rooftop behind the inn to see if there was any sign of James, then thought it likely the body of the man who died up there had been found. The city watch might be corrupt, but that wouldn’t prevent them from arresting him for that man’s death, should he be found anywhere near him.
What to do? William was a soldier, and if Knight-Marshal Gardan was to be taken at his word, on his way to being a fine leader of men. But he was not cut out for this skulking and plotting and creeping through dark alleys and sewers. When he was with James, he felt equal to anything, but on his own he felt a fish out of water.
He saw a boy hurrying down the street, looking around as if not wanting to be seen; then he dodged into the entrance of the Jade Monkey. That piqued William’s interest.
He moved out of the shadows and glanced around. The pre-dawn was quickly lighting the street enough for him not to fear unanticipated attack, and he knew that within minutes the usual traffic of those starting their day’s business would be in full flow.
He walked to the entrance and saw the boy speaking with Gina. He saw no one else in the commons, so he entered and threw back his hood.
‘William!’ she exclaimed. ‘You’re alive!’
‘James?’
‘I haven’t seen him.’
He saw that she had a large wet cloth pressed against the back of her head. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked her.
‘I’ve had worse,’ she said, ‘but it’s going to take a bit of time to fix things upstairs. The three thugs who came looking for you tore the place up.’
‘Did you see them?’
‘Didn’t really see anything,’ she said, wincing. ‘I was vaguely aware of three men walking in, one came to the bar as if to ask me something, I turned, and the next thing I remember is waking up behind the bar with a throbbing head and a drunk next to me.’
‘Are you Sir William?’ the boy asked.
William sized him up. No more than ten or eleven years old, he was wearing a ragged tunic soon to be too small as he was growing: his trousers were cut off below the knees. He was barefoot, with unkempt dark hair, brown eyes, and uncertain skin colour under all that dirt, though William suspected it was lightish brown. ‘Who are you?’ he asked.
The boy didn’t give him a name but merely said, ‘I am one seeking you and the Lady Jazhara.’
‘I am seeking her as well,’ said William.
‘Is the lady not with you?’
‘No,’ said William in disgust. He felt it a personal failure that Jazhara had been taken, and his fear of losing her kept rising up to send him into uncharacteristic panic.
‘Then you alone must come, sir!’ said the boy.
‘Come where?’
‘Brother Eli, a monk of Ban-ath, he seeks you out.’
Gina and William glanced at one another and almost simultaneously said, ‘Ban-ath?’
‘That means James,’ William said.
‘I’ll be here should she return,’ said Gina.
William thought it best not to correct her presumption that Jazhara was out somewhere without him, rather than mention her abduction. He wasn’t sure why, but he thought it best that people in Durbin didn’t know the daughter of one of the more important nobles in the Empire had been captured. He would wait until James decided what to do. James was the more senior member of the prince’s court, and William knew his own judgement at this moment was entirely untrustworthy.
‘Lead on,’ said William to the boy.
As the morning markets opened and the stalls and shops were unshuttered, the boy half-walked, half-ran through the thickening crowd, with William following close behind. While it was not a sprawling city like Krondor, Durbin was densely packed once the sun rose, and soon they were both forced to slow their progress.
In less than a half-hour they reached the hovel behind the run-down shrine and found the monk sitting beside a sleeping James. William rushed over as the monk rose to greet him but before he could speak, William gripped James’s shoulder.
With a grunt of pain James sat up, his dagger in his hand. Only a last-minute recognition kept him from slicing William’s throat.
‘Don’t ever do that again, Willy.’
‘What?’ asked William, taken aback.
‘He dislocated his left shoulder and you just grabbed it,’ Brother Eli supplied helpfully.
‘Oh, sorry,’ said William.
‘Brother Eli,’ said the monk, introducing himself. ‘A servant of Ban-ath.’
‘William of Krondor, Knight-Lieutenant in the prince’s palace guard.’ To James he said, ‘They’ve taken Jazhara!’
James stared at him. ‘Who is “they”?’
‘I don’t know. We heard a crash in your room. By the time I opened your door, the window had been broken outward and when I went to look, someone seized her from behind. Another man attacked me and I broke his neck—’
‘Good,’ said James.
‘—and when I gathered my wits I went back inside and found Gina unconscious. I searched for Jazhara, but found no trace of her.’
‘I know where she is,’ said James with certainty.
‘Where?’
‘At the governor’s palace.’
‘Are you certain?’
‘Yes.’
‘What do we do?’
James was silent for a moment, then said, ‘I’ve sent a message to Jazhara’s kinsmen at the oasis at Bal-Shala telling them she’s been taken and to come to Durbin with all haste. But it will take another five or six days to get them here.’
William’s eyes widened. ‘But they are not at Bal-Shala.’
‘Where are they?’ asked James, rising from the cot.
‘They’re already en route from Bal-Shala. When we camped at the wadi, Jazhara sent along one of the Izmalis to her uncle’s people, asking them to come to Durbin. She expected we’d find the governor somehow mixed up in this mess.’
‘How long ago was this?’
‘She dispatched him the day we arrived. The Hazara-Khan retinue should be here tomorrow morning, evening at the latest.’
‘I don’t think we have that much time,’ said James. ‘They took Jazhara either because she makes a good bargaining token with Lord Hazara-Khan, or because she’s a magic-user and of particular danger to them. If it’s the first, she’ll be safe for the time being, but if it’s the second . . .’ James left unsaid that in the second case she’d be dead already. He saw the concern in William’s face and said, ‘I think they’re making her a hostage. Else why abduct her instead of slipping a dagger in her back?’
William nodded.
‘If I had those Izmalis here instead of with her uncle’s people—’
‘They’re not with her family,’ said William. ‘They’re still at the wadi. Jazhara decided having them close at hand might prove useful.’
James was suddenly animated. ‘If you weren’t in love with that woman, I would be!’ He fell silent for a moment, calculating. ‘If you ride now, how soon can you be back with them?’
‘If I take two horses, a little after sunset, I should think,’ answered William.
‘Leave now.’ James pulled out his purse. He tossed it to William and said, ‘I’ll get into the palace and see if I can keep her safe until you arrive. Stop here first, and if I have her, we’ll be in this room. If I don’t, come to the palace as fast as you can. Don’t be polite. Just kick down the door and come in and find us.’
William didn’t need to be urged to take action; he grabbed the purse out of the air, turned and ran towards the nearest stable, nearly knocking over half a dozen people.
James flexed his injured shoulder, stretching away stiffness.
‘How do you plan to get inside?’ asked Brother Eli.
James looked at him with raised eyebrows, but said nothing.
After a moment, Brother Eli smiled. ‘Stupid question.’
Breaking into a guarded building was nothing new for James. It was more problematic breaking into one in daylight, but while it was a rare occurrence, it was also nothing new. Breaking into one guarded by men who might be Nighthawks had but one precedent, one he’d rather forget, for it had almost cost him his life.
James had spent an hour reacquainting himself with the environs of the governor’s palace. He had explored it several times while watching for the emergence of Nighthawks and just wanted one more look before committing himself to going in. He worried about Jazhara’s safety, but prudence dictated a studied approach: he wouldn’t do her much good dead.
Now he was walking through the heart of the city, blending in as best he could while he pondered. Another concern nagged at him: there seemed to have been two groups of Nighthawks, or rather a band of real Nighthawks and a group of false ones when he had been dealing with the Crawler’s agents in Krondor. Puzzling over the apparent desire on the part of the Crawler to cast blame on the Nighthawks for his agents’ handiwork, Jimmy decided the likelihood was that the men in black he had seen riding out from the governor’s palace were not true assassins.