Demon King (12 page)

Kutulu was beside me, and a man pushed his chair into his path, waving an eating knife. Kutulu’s loaded glove thudded into his face, and he fell motionless across his dinner plate.

The gray-haired man next to Amboina’s sister came out of his chair, unsheathing a slender sword. I lunged at him, and he parried, then cut. I smashed his sword aside, and ungentlemanly of me, kicked him in the stomach, then spitted him.

But he’d given Jalon Amboina a few seconds, and that was all the magician needed. There were ten yards between us, and in that space grew a shadow, then the form of that monstrous warrior I’d fought in the tower in Polycittara. This time it had a sword in each hand, and its fire-eyes glittered.

It cut at me, and I blocked its swing, and the shock sent my sword spinning away. I dropped to the flagstones as the creature slashed over my head. I scrabbled for my blade, got it in my hand, and back-rolled to my feet.

Behind his creation, Jalon Amboina was backing toward stairs at the rear of the hall. I heard him muttering his spells, and his monster attacked once more.

From nowhere an arrow sprouted from Amboina’s eye, and his head snapped back with the impact. He tottered, then fell. The demon howled in agony, a matching arrow buried in its eye socket.

Cymea Amboina screamed and threw herself on her brother’s body, and Amboina’s monstrous defender vanished as if it’d never been.

“No one moves,” Kutulu shouted. “You are all arrested, by the order of the emperor Laish Tenedos, on the charges of murder and high treason!”

There were squawks and shouts, and one man reached for a sword and was clubbed down by Elfric.

I paid no mind to them, nor to the servitors who poured into the hall, then stood indecisively, stunned by their master’s death.

All I could see was the sprawled body of Jalon Amboina, gore soaking the skirts of his sister as she cradled his corpse and keened wordlessly.

Jalon Amboina’s body, trussed to a blood-hardened gelding, jounced along just behind me. His face, with the gaping wound where an eye had been, was open to sight, as were his trussed hands and feet. Also, a crude gag had been stuffed in his mouth as if he yet lived, and Legate Balkh assigned to watch the corpse closely.

This was at the instructions of Seer Sinait. She’d attempted a minor casting after we’d secured Lanvirn, and announced Amboina’s spells were still in place — her magic had no effect, and she, as the emperor had, could still sense a dark force hanging over the land.

“This makes no sense at all,” she said. “He’s dead, so his magic should have vanished with him. Unless he was a far greater magician than I thought, with legendary powers. If that’s the case, I want to know if that corpse suddenly shows signs of reviving.”

We had seven prisoners — the survivors of the dinner party, including Jalon’s sister. She was fourteen, and would be a raving beauty when grown. But it was most unlikely she’d see another birthday, nor would a long life be probable for the others who were at that table. Perhaps they were just friends discussing plans for the spring planting. But I doubted imperial justice, as administered by Prince Reufern and overseen by the emperor, would show anyone the slightest mercy, and I refused to think of what would happen to Cymea at the hands of Ygerne and Kutulu’s other torturers.

I’d freed Amboina’s servants, even those who’d fought us. Kutulu had argued, but I told him, flatly, it would be a poor servant who refused to defend his master, even if he was a traitor.

Our casualties had been very light — one Lancer with a broken arm, and two of Kutulu’s men with cuts.

Kutulu rode amid the prisoners, carefully examining them, trying to see who should be questioned first, and who would be the first to break. Cymea looked at him once, a cold stare from green eyes, and somehow I knew she’d die without giving him satisfaction.

Strangely, I felt no sense of victory, as I should have, but I ascribed my gloom to the gray rain-dripping weather around us. I stopped my brooding by starting an argument with Karjan, telling him he was promoted lance-major, and this time, by the sword of Isa, he’d keep his rank slashes or I’d send him back to the Lancers. He merely grumbled, instead of becoming enraged. Perhaps the wretched day was affecting him, as well.

• • •

Prince Reufern said he’d hold a public tribunal in two days and show the citizens of Kallio how swiftly the Emperor Tenedos dealt with those who wished him harm.

“I’d like to suggest otherwise,” Kutulu said, in his calm, emotionless voice.

“Why? I want to see these swine done away with as quickly as possible,” the prince said, and then a slow, not pleasant, smile came. “My apologies, Warden. I wasn’t thinking. There may be others in this conspiracy. In fact, I’m sure of it.”

“I’m sure of nothing, Your Majesty, which is why I wish to question the prisoners closely.”

“You have my full permission,” Reufern said. “Any methods you choose are acceptable. Even if we … lose some of these traitors in the process, there’ll be no recriminations.”

“None will die,” Kutulu said. “I won’t let them.”

My skin crawled.

“Your Majesty,” I asked. “What of Landgrave Amboina? Has he returned yet?”

“No. But when he does, he’ll go straight into the dungeon with the others,” the prince said. “I’m chagrined that I allowed that smooth-tongued rascal into my graces.” He shook his head. “I thought I’d encountered every sort of villain when I was a trader. But someone like Amboina, who could lie, and lie, and lie, as he did — never! I suppose he’ll try to convince me that he wasn’t aware of what his son was doing, or was under some sort of a spell.

“But I promise you, Damastes and Warden Kutulu, he’ll suffer the same fate as the others. I’m not sure what method of execution I’ll choose. But it will be one that will make every Kallian for ten generations shudder at the tale of how these dogs died!”

• • •

“Now I feel like a total ass,” Marán complained. “I fill myself full of worries, seduce you before you leave as if I were never going to see you again, and you come prancing back with all of the evildoers in a sack.”

“At least the seducing part wasn’t a waste.”

“You’re nothing but six-and-a-half feet of lust, you know that?”

“I’m not quite
that
big,” I said, waggling my eyebrows like a sex-crazed maniac.

“Big enough,” she said. Her mood changed. “Damastes, could we try again to have a child?”

Marán had been pregnant with our child when we married, but had a miscarriage not long afterward. We both wanted children and had consulted seers and chirurgeons. The last, and most expensive, told us he doubted if we’d ever be able to have any. He thought the stillborn infant had taken with him Marán’s ability to carry a child.

I was disappointed, but not destroyed. Since I was born to be a warrior and assumed I’d most likely die in service, I’d always thought that the family line would be continued through my sisters.

But it was terribly important to Marán. I wondered if her father and brothers were at her to produce an heir, but it was a subject I stayed well clear of. In any event she told me she didn’t believe what the sorcerer had said, and how often they were wrong about other things, and refused to give up.

“Of course we can,” I said. “Right now?”

“No, silly. I meant … you know what I meant. I’ve consulted with the seer, and she thinks the next few days might be ideal for conception.”

“Hmph,” I hmphed. “Next you’ll have her in the bedchamber, suggesting in what manner we should be making love.”

“That,” Marán said, “is something I’m already quite familiar with.” She echoed my eyebrow waggling. “Just wait until you come to bed tonight.”

• • •

Seer Sinait straightened, shaking her head. The mercury pool was gray, featureless. “Still nothing,” she said. “And I can
feel
being blocked when I reach out.”

I’d had no luck with the Bowl spell at all, and thought I might be able to contact the emperor if a proper magician said the words.

“So who is stopping us?”

“I don’t know. Who … what … Maybe it’s just the placement of the stars,” she said.

I knew she didn’t believe that for an instant.

• • •

As dusk approached, I decided to attend guard mount. I’d ordered Domina Bikaner to double the watch, since Molise Amboina should be arriving momentarily, and I wished no slip ups. The officer of the watch was Bikaner’s adjutant, Restenneth, and the domina and I were standing behind the formation, half-listening to the comfortingly familiar commands, when trumpets from the main castle blared.

“That’ll be Amboina coming back now, and we’ll be needin’ to make sure he doesn’t get a chance to run,” Bikaner said. “Captain! Prepare the guard to receive a prisoner!”

“Sir!”

I went out of our keep, across the castle’s huge center courtyard to the open gates, and looked down into the city. Two castle buglers stood on either side of me, about to play another fanfare. But instead of seeing Prince Reufern’s escort and the landgrave, I saw a huge mass of soldiers, wearing Numantian uniforms, marching in orderly formation toward us. There must have been a thousand of them, a regiment and more. The emperor must have decided we needed further reinforcement and ordered another unit to Kallio, although I wondered how he’d been able to move soldiery in such a short time.

I was peering through the growing dimness, trying to see what device was on the banners so I could name the unit, when I heard a shout. It was Seer Sinait, running hard toward me, robes hiked up. “No!” she shouted. “They’re not ours! They’re Kallians!”

I blinked, looked again. She was wrong — I could see the men’s uniforms distinctly. Their officers, in full dress, marched in front, to the steady thud of a half dozen drummers. Music wailed, and I recognized the tune, a standard marching song. I was about to reprove the seer for her unfamiliarity with the army, but she seized my arm.

“Rub your eyes hard,” she ordered, “till they water!” I hesitated, then obeyed. She moved a finger across my forehead, I suppose tracing some symbol, then began chanting:

“Look well

Look hard

See truth

See what is

See beyond

Beyond the veil

See the truth

Look well …”

My vision blurred, then blinked clear. Instead of Numantian troops, a mass of Kallians now swarmed toward us. They were townsmen, artisans, peasants, nobility, armed with everything from spades to spears and swords. They were even organized into rough formations. On either side of this mob were men in armor, men with conventional weapons. The hidden conspirators Kutulu so feared had chosen this moment for their great rising!

Instead of music playing, they were chanting:

“Death to the Numantians

Death to their servants

Kill them all

Kill them all

Kill them all.”

At their head, holding a spear high, was Landgrave Molise Amboina, shouting more loudly than anyone. On the spear was a small banner, which I recognized from the civil war — Chardin Sher’s old flag!

“Close the gates,” I shouted, and ran toward the huge windlass. One bugler stood, bewildered, the other followed. “Sinait,” I shouted. “Get the Lancers out!”

She pelted back across the courtyard, into our keep, shouting for Domina Bikaner.

I put all my strength onto the windlass, and slowly, reluctantly, it creaked into motion. “Come on, man!” I ordered the bugler, and he threw his weight onto another stout wooden bar, then shouted in agony as an arrow buried itself in his side. He clawed at it, screaming, and thrashed down. I pulled my sword and hewed at the arm-thick cable, but I was too late, and the attackers were pouring into the castle. A spear clattered on the cobbles beside me, then another, and I ran for the Lancers’ keep.

A man waving a bill broke from the mob and raced toward me. I turned suddenly and knelt, both hands bracing my sword, and he spitted himself on the blade. I kicked him free and ducked as another spear flew past.

“Take him!” the landgrave shouted. “That’s their damned tribune!” I ran harder, through the gates into our own keep. Behind me came the mob, howling for blood. Bewildered men and women poured out of doorways into the courtyard like ants when hot water’s poured down their hill.

I sheathed my sword, grabbed a bow from a downed archer, and slung his quiver over my shoulder. I nocked a shaft, scanned the onrushing crowd, saw someone in richly worked half-armor, aimed carefully, and he screeched and convulsed, my shaft half-buried in his groin. Other bows twanged and arrows hummed, and spears arced toward the Kallians. Men and women were hit, and went down, some lying motionless, some writhing, screaming. But their screams seemed to add fire to our attackers. I saw Amboina, shot at him, missed. By the time I found another arrow, he’d disappeared into the throng. I saw a big man shouting orders and killed him instead.

Outside the entrance to our keep, in the main courtyard, other soldiers were coming into action, some armored, some with no more than a sword and shield. I saw Prince Reufern, easily distinguishable in a red tunic, a long sword in hand, rush out of a doorway, flanked by a dozen or more soldiers. He plunged forward, into the fray, and I saw his sword rise and fall.

The Kallians slammed into us, and there was no time for anything except killing the man who was trying to kill you. A man swung a flail, and I lashed him across the eyes with my bow, crouched, and body-blocked him into two others. That gave me a chance to draw my sword, and I sent one down, then saw another man drive a pitchfork at me. I shrank back, just as that peasant gasped and whirled, and Kutulu pulled a long dagger from his back. Kutulu was bleeding heavily from a slash along his ribs.

He shouted something to me, and a dirty-faced woman clubbed him to his knees. She pulled a butcher knife from her leather belt and was about to finish the warden when my sword took her head off. She fell on Kutulu, who went down and stayed there.

There were too many of them, pouring like the tide into the castle. I heard the shout. “Back. Back and re-form.” The voice was Bikaner’s, and other officers echoed the command. I parried a spear thrust, killed the spearman, grabbed Kutulu by the jacket, and dragged him backward into our keep. Three Kallians saw my helplessness, but Karjan and another Lancer came from nowhere and took them down.