Which is precisely what happened, answered Pug. He pointed. Over there, somewhere, a gate was battered off its hinges, and the defenders overrun. Mostly priests with temple guards, they were no match in hand-to-hand combat with the horde.
Had they surrendered then, it would have ended well enough, for after a few public executions to demonstrate the iron rule of the Sha-shahan, Jarwa by name, who would then have pardoned the rest to demonstrate his leniency, the horde would have ridden on, leaving little more than a garrison and tax collector behind.
Instead, a highly placed priest unsealed the Demon Gate, in the mad hope that the demons would repulse the horde, and that he could seal up the gate after. Pug shook his head. He was the first one devoured. He sighed as they mounted steps leading up into the great temple. There were fifty steps in the flight leading upward, a broad expanse of carved stone, and on each end a pillar rose up, atop which sat empty stone cauldrons where offerings to the gods and ancestors could be burned. Of course the demons drove back the horde, but they destroyed the only possibility of repulsing them as well, the now-exhausted priests and shamans of the Saaur.
A very courageous and intelligent shaman, by name Hanam, seized control of a demon through a brilliant ruse, and used that control to infiltrate the demons and get to your mother and me, he said to Magnus. He was instrumental in defeating the demon captain Tugor, as Macros, your mother, and I battled Maarg, keeping him on the other side of the rift.
Tugor was defeated? asked Magnus. I thought one of those imps mentioned himperhaps I was mistaken.
Well ask Amirantha when we return. I have the impression that demons are more difficult to kill than we thought, said Pug. He led them across a large pavilion, into an antechamber. Looking around, he said, It looks so different.
The stones of the city themselves were now free of the soot and ash that had coated them the last time Pug had been there. Fires had still raged across the landscape, but a century of wind and rain had effectively rid of any stain the stone everywhere but in the deepest recesses.
Pug recognized a few hallmarks, a massive stone bas-relief showing some legend of the Saaur, and moved toward a deep vault. Once they were inside, the gloom swallowed them; Magnus moved his hand reflexively and light sprang up around them in a comforting cocoon.
For reasons he couldnt explain, Pug felt the urge to whisper. He resisted it and said, Over there. He pointed to a cavernous doorway leading into the Seal Chamber, where the Demon Gate had been located. When last he had visited, Pug along with Miranda, Macros, and the Saaur shaman Hanam in the form of a demon, the alien race Shangri had been trying to move a rift to Midkemia directly before the entrance from the demon realm. They had disrupted that and fled, after Macros and Hanam had given their lives to stop the demon invasion. Pug had slain the Shangri who had created the rift and assumed the portal to the demon realm had been closed as well.
When they reached the site of the Demon Gate, all four men froze in astonishment. A body lay sprawled out before the wall that had housed the gate. It was emaciated, barely larger than a human, but Pug instantly recognized it. Now he whispered, Its Maarg.
When he had last seen the Demon King, he had been this mammoth, gross creature rearing up, nearly thirty-five feet in height. Massive jowls hung down from his cheekbones, giving him almost a bulldog-like expression. Eyes of burning fire had regarded Pug with a hatred that came in waves; his mere presence was an extant heralding of evil.
Everything is so much smaller now, said Pug softly. He turned Maarg over and the body weighed almost nothing. His face looked like a parchment drawn in on hollow bones and still showed the pattern of being fashioned from the skins of living beings. When Pug had last seen him, every inch of his visage moved and twitched, as if those souls he had devoured were attempting to escape somehow. His nude body was likewise a thing of tattered skins that now looked sewn together like patchwork.
Pug stood up. He had wings to spread across this chamber, and He looked at the wall. Unbelievable.
The stone was gouged with deep talon marks, as if once the Demon Gate had closed, Maarg had tried to claw his way back into his own realm.
How? asked Magnus.
When your grandfather died, I thought the gate closed, but Maarg must have somehow slipped back into this realm moments before it closed. Your mother and I were already on Midkemia, with that gate closed. He shrugged. He must have devoured every life on this world and when hunger drove him even madder than before, he returned here and tried to get back Pug shook his head. I can hardly feel sympathy for a thing like this, but it must have been a terrible way to die.
Theres one thing, Father, said Magnus.
What?
Amiranthas imp was terrified of Maarg. If Maarg lies here dead, who is pretending to be Maarg, enough so to convince other demons hes their king?
Pug looked stunned by the question.
CHAPTER 19
ONSLAUGHT
Miranda signaled.
She could manage to bring six people with herSandreena, Amirantha, Brandos, Jommy, Kaspar, and Father-Bishop Creegan. The moment they appeared at the mouth of the passage leading up into the clearing where the summoning would occur, they were under instructions to remain silent.
Kaspar said, I dont care how many times I do that, Ill never find the experience pleasant.
Miranda smiled slightly. It is, however, efficient.
Kaspar glanced at her and smiled back. This is true.
Sandreena looked around, to see if there was any sign remaining of the Black Caps. All appeared quiet. She relaxed and considered this undertaking. She was pleased the Father-Bishop was with them, for while he had never been a warrior like the Knight-Adamants of her Order, he was a magic-user of significant power, especially in the area of banishing demons. Brandos she knew from her first encounter with Amirantha, years before in the village of Yellow Mule. Kaspar and Jommy were also brawlers, if she could judge men, and she could, and would be useful to stand at her side if they needed to protect the spellcasters.
Sandreena also found herself wondering about Miranda. At first the woman annoyed her, and Sandreena couldnt quite understand why. Then it dawned on her: she had the same expectation of obediencethe woman liked to give ordersthat was the hallmark of the High Priestess of her Order in Krondor. The difference was, Sandreena suspected, Miranda had earned that attitude, whereas the High Priestess considered it her birthright.
Miranda looked around, as if saying, If everyones ready, lets begin.
They had fashioned the plan over the last four days. If possible, they were going to try to gain some sense of what was taking place, who these Black Caps, these Servants of Dahun, were in reality, before the mayhem was completely under way. The agreement was they would all observe as best they could from hiding and no one was to launch any assault unless discovered or upon Mirandas command. Getting some knowledge of the enemy was vital.
Too many times in the past Miranda and Pug had discovered forces at play behind the apparent forces they were facing. Ban-ath, the God of Thieves and Liars, had a hand in everything so far, and they were horrified to discover the so-called Dark God of the Dasati was actually a Dreadlord who had managed over centuries to insinuate himself into the Dasati culture, usurping the allegiance of the Dasati race, twisting and warping them into a wholesale tool of evil.
Miranda had tried to pry as much information out of Amirantha as she could, but he had not had contact with his brother in any meaningful fashion in over a century, and had no notion of what had brought him to this current position, the apparent leader of these Black Caps. After several long discussions, Miranda was convinced of only one thing about Amirantha: he wanted to see his brother dead and now was none too soon.
Mirandas own childhood had been anything but conventional. Her father, the legendary Macros the Black, had vanished when she was still a child. Her mother, known by several names over the yearsLady Clovis, the Emerald Queen, and othershad been alternately loving a
nd remote. After Miranda matured, the only thing they had in common was their love of magic. But Miranda had inherited, perhaps from her father, a fundamental distaste for the very things that drew her mother deeper into darkness: power and a fear of aging. Ironically, Miranda never seemed to age, though in part it was due to her aging very slowly, and also because of her exposure to the released energies of an artifact called the Lifestone.
All of which gave her a unique perspective: she understood how two brothers could end up being so un-alike, and why Amirantha would show no hesitation in killing Belasco.
Belasco was the mystery. He was unknown to any of them, save Amirantha and Brandos, and in the second case, by reputation only. What the old fighter knew about Belasco came from Amirantha.
It wasnt so much that Miranda warned about trusting the Warlock; she didnt. Nor was she particularly fearful of him. If Miranda had something close to a critical flaw, it was her own estimation of her ability. Should the demon-summoner prove to be a danger, she felt certain she could handle him. She was more uncertain what his motives were, beyond dealing with a murderous brother. He said he was envious of the community on Sorcerers Isle, and wished to return after this encounter to spend time learning from Pug and the others. Miranda half-believed that. She just didnt know what he was hiding, and she knew he was hiding something.
Miranda also didnt care for the fact Sandreena and Amirantha had a past relationship. One that was far from happy, by all appearances. One of the reasons she agreed to have Creegan accompany them was he might be a calming influence on the Knight-Adamant. Like most of those of her Order, Sandreena was used to working alone, unsupervised. She might be a powerful fighter, but she also might be as dangerous as loose cargo on the deck of a ship during a storm.
Jommy and Kaspar were people whom she trusted with her life, and Kaspar had worked hard to gain that trust.
Creegan she had reservations about. Not his character, though she tended to mistrust the politically ambitious, and he clearly intended to be the head of the Church of Dala someday. It wasnt even a case of his dedication; Pug never would have recruited him for the Conclave had there been any doubt of that. It was his ability. He was not a brawler, not someone who had been tested in battle, in her opinion, though he claimed to have faced demons before in his youth.
And there was always the complication that the Conclave could encounter some serious issues with the Temple if she managed to get one of their Father-Bishops killed along the way. Pug would have forbidden his coming, she knew. But then Pug wasnt here. He was on another godsforsaken planet who knew where, doing whatever it was he and her son did when they were off on another godsforsaken planet.
She tried not to worry, but couldnt help it; she was a wife and a mother.
Miranda signaled again and Sandreena, Jommy, and Kaspar took the lead, moving in a roughly V formation, with Sandreena in the van. As the heaviest-armored of the three, she was the most likely to survive any unexpected surprises. Miranda and Amirantha came close behind, with Brandos serving as a rear guard.
Slowly, they made their way along the narrow trail, into the cleft that led up into the clearing where the sacrifices had occurred before. As expected, they encountered another sentry, but this time they werent concerned about being subtle. Kaspar threw a dagger that took the man in the throat and he died before he could utter a sound.
From that point on, they walked in a crouch, moving slowly to avoid alerting any second sentry by sound or sight. As Miranda anticipated, with a special ceremony planned, two additional sentries were stationedironically, on the very ridge they had planned to watch from.
Miranda motioned to Jommy and Sandreena to follow Kaspars lead. He was the most experienced soldier in the group. He knelt and whispered, Can you get them over here without alerting those on the other side of that ridge?
I have a trick, she said, thinking instantly of Nakor. How that funny little man would have loved this sort of madness. It was exactly the sort of insanity that seemed to bring out the very best in him.
She whispered, Im going to get them over here in a hurry, so you need to subdue them before they can alert anyone. Now, we need to wait until their attentions wander for a moment.
Time passed slowly, and the air was suddenly filled with chanting, more rhythmic and lower than the sound they heard four nights earlier. Miranda waited, patiently, watching as the two guards stood their post. She would occasionally glance at Kaspar and the others, and they all waited, poised to act. Miranda was gratified to see not one of them was losing focus or letting the tedium dull their readiness. Too much was at stake to grow lax even for a moment.
Then a scream of absolute horror and agony caused the two sentries to look for a moment toward the source of the sound. Instantly, Miranda was on her feet, and with a short incantation she mystically reached out and seized both men as a cat would grab kittens by the scruff of the neck, and had them flying backward in a high arc, to land at her feet. At once, Kaspar, Jommy, Brandos, and Sandreena were upon the men, and they died without a sound.
Now we go! said Miranda and she led the way to the ridge from where she had plucked the two sentries.
They hurried, less mindful of the noise they made as the chanting reached a crescendo of screams and chants. They breasted the rise at the same moment, and right away Miranda knew they faced obliteration.
There was no ceremony. Rather, two hundred armed warriors stood ready, poised to charge, and behind them, on a large rock, stood Belasco. The chanting was an illusion, cast by a robed magician at his side, and at his other side was the nude figure of Darthea, clutching Belasco as she would her love. She looked at Amirantha with contempt as Belasco shouted, Brother! Youve brought friends! How considerate! To his mob of warriors, he shouted, Kill them!
Hold! shouted Miranda to Sandreena and Brandos, who readied themselves for a charge.
With a sweeping gesture, Miranda sent a wave of flame rolling toward the attackers. Men screamed as flames rolled over them, several falling to the ground, only to trip others or be trampled on. Amirantha began to conjure and Sandreena shouted, Dont!
He paused and shouted back, Why?
Isnt that your lady love over there with your brother?
Amirantha suddenly realized exactly what Sandreena meant: no demon he conjured could be trusted. They were all in thrall to whomever was behind his brothers plan.
Amirantha acted as much out of pique as self-preservation. He sent a punishing spell toward Darthea. The demon recoiled, almost pulling Belasco off his feet before he let go of her. The agony she felt was passed along to him for a moment, until contact was broken. He staggered, while she fell and writhed on the stones. She contorted in agony and her body shifted, smoke roiling off her skin. Her features changed, becoming more demonic by the second, as her illusion of human beauty faded. She stopped thrashing and lay quivering and twitching. The thing that lay at Belascos feet had the torso of a woman and her face was still beautiful, in an otherworldly fashion, but her legs were those of a black-furred goat. From her forehead two long horns swept back, and her fingers ended in black claws. Suddenly, a burst of green flame consumed her, as Belasco scuttled backward to avoid being burned.
The magician at Belascos side began a conjuration, and Sandreena pointed her mace at him. A blast of energy, clear and colorless, but rippling the air as it shot out from her weapon, sped across the clearing and took the magician in the chest. He was slammed backward in an explosion of white and yellow lights, to lie stunned on the rocks behind Belasco.
Close your eyes! shouted Miranda, and those warriors not consumed by her wall of flame were greeted with an explosion of blinding lights.
Now! shouted Miranda. Fall back!
Back! shouted Kaspar, lashing out to skewer one blinking Black Cap who came too close.
All around them burning, screaming men lay, while others tried to see through eyes blinded by a white-hot flash so brilliant some feared they would be blind for what remained of the
ir lives. A few cried out in fear, and suddenly the angry resolve of a moment before was replaced by a rising panic. The stench of burning bodies and the screams of the dying only added to the growing terror.
Jommy saw an opportunity and shouted, Weve been betrayed! Belasco lied to us! Were all going to die!
No one among the Black Caps could see who shouted that, but, as he hoped, the warning was repeated.
Miranda almost pulled him off his feet by grabbing his collar and hauling him away. Now! she hissed.
They moved back, seeking enough room from potential attackers so that Miranda could transport them away. Across the sea of writhing bodies and smoking chaos, Belasco rose to his feet and shouted, No you dont! He reached back and flung his arm forward, as if throwing a rock, and they all saw a flaming ball of orange ripping toward them.
It was Creegan who reacted first, throwing up a mystic barrier that caused the flames to spread up and around the intended targets. It was still hot, and Jommy yelped as his hair was singed. Brandos drew out his dagger and with an impressive heave sent it speeding across the gap between themselves and Belasco.
With a maniacal laugh, the magician dove to one side, shouting, That was too close! Time for me to bid you all farewell!
He vanished.
Damn! shouted Miranda as she sent a bolt of searing red energy into the midst of a clump of warriors attempting to get organized, sending most of them into the air as if thrown upward by some giants hand. Back!
Most of the warriors serving Dahun were dead or blinded, or confused and trying to get away from the struggle, but enough of them were gathering their wits that soon Miranda and her companions risked being overwhelmed. Back! she repeated.
They hurried up the draw into the narrow path that eventually led down toward the sea. Brandos, Kaspar, and Jommy backed along the path, swords ready, but those few Black Caps who followed seemed less than eager to engage. They had seen the damage the magicians behind those three fighters had done, and their own magicians were nowhere to be seen.