Demonbane (Book 4) (31 page)

Kara stepped forward quickly and put a hand on Kendril’s arm. “Not
battle
,” she corrected. “Or not just battle, anyway.” She glanced over her shoulder to where Greslin and Ilsa were huddled in a corner of the square. “We found those two on the other side of the river.”

Joseph gave her a puzzled glance. “You were on the east side of the river? But how—?”

Maklavir sighed heavily. “Believe me, it’s a long story involving horrible smells, ruined stockings, and old carpets.”

Kendril gave a slow nod. “Thanks for clearing that up, Maklavir.”

“They’re taking women,” Kara continued. “Greslin says
all
the women, even the little girls.”

Kendril frowned. “What do you mean
taking
?”

“Carrying them off, alive, up to the Central Plaza. Greslin said there’s screaming coming from there, and chanting—”

“Great Eru,” Joseph breathed. “We have to get over there, do
something
to help—”

“Kara,” Kendril said, his voice so low that it sent shivers down his friends’ backs, “what
kind
of chanting?”

Baron Dutraad pulled his gloves on as he headed out of the fish store.

A nearby gendarme held the reins of his horse. He saluted as he saw the Baron.

Dutraad’s gaze swept over the assembled troopers on their mounts just behind his own horse. Most were wearing the red scarves of Count Idrimov’s regiment.

Idrimov himself was missing. His home was over in the east of Vorten, in the Merchant’s Quarter just past the Central Plaza.

“How many?” Dutraad asked. He eyed the frightened-looking militiamen who were lined up behind the small unit of cavalry.

The gendarme held his salute. “Eighty-two men, sir, last count. Sixteen mounted.”

Dutraad’s mouth curled into an angry snarl. It was barely a company. Looking over the men he could see a blaze of different-colored scarves, denoting officers and men from various regiments. Many had bandaged wounds and looked to be barely standing. Some had no weapons. It was a travesty. Certainly no way to fight a war. The moment shooting started he fully expected at least a third of these boys to run. The rest would undoubtedly have to fight an uncertain chain of command, taking orders from officers from other companies and regiments.

It was a recipe for disaster.

Dutraad hesitated a moment longer. He turned and mounted his horse.

Kendril came out of the blackness of the square, materializing like a ghost from the darkness. “Dutraad,” he said, “I need men. Every man who can stand on two feet. We have to cross the Central Bridge
right now
.”

“Certainly,” said Dutraad, his voice thick with sarcasm. “How many would you like? A company? A regiment? I’ll put them all under your command.” He turned, and motioned to a cavalry lieutenant.

The man saluted back, and began to lead the line of troopers off towards the north of the square.

The ragged militiamen began to wearily march behind the cavalry, their faces turned towards the ground.

Kendril dashed forward and grabbed the bridle strap of Dutraad’s horse. “
Baron
!” he shouted, “this isn’t a game! You need to push east right now, before it’s too late—”

Dutraad turned his horse, pushing Kendril away a couple steps. “Don’t lecture me, Ghostwalker!” he roared. “We’ve lost the Wobble. Cultists are pouring through into the Shackles. The south bridge is close to crumbling as well. I need to plug the gap now or we’ll be flanked, do you
understand
—?”

“I understand just fine!” Kendril shouted back. He watched the lines of soldiers disappearing to the north with growing desperation. “It’s a
trick
, Dutraad, a diversion! Indigoru is trying to spread our forces out, take our attention off the Central Plaza—”

“Then she’s doing a bloody fine job of it.” Dutraad reined his rearing horse in. “The demon is
in
the Shackles right now! We’re losing men up there, losing ground. And your precious little Ghostwalkers haven’t been able to kill Mi—” he stopped, his face torn for a moment, “the
Seteru
.”

Kendril shook his head furiously. “None of that matters. They’re killing women by the hundreds in the Central Plaza right now. They’re
sacrificing
them—”

Dutraad lifted his head as an explosion sounded far to the north. The light flashed amidst the orange glow of the fires for a brief moment. He swung his head back to Kendril. “Perhaps you haven’t noticed, Ghostwalker, but there are people dying all over the city. I can’t abandon the Shackles just to rescue—”

“No, not
killing
,” Kendril repeated emphatically. “
Sacrificing
. They’re trying to tear a hole in the curtain between the Void and our world.”

Dutraad gaped at Kendril. “Have you lost your mind? You’re making no sense.”

Kendril gestured up towards the night sky. “It’s still the new moon. The barrier between the Void is at its thinnest. Indigoru is trying to tear a hole in the veil that separates the Void and our world right here in the Central Plaza. That’s why she’s sacrificing hundreds of women. She’s using the blood to create a Void gate, a rift that will open the Void into the heart of the city—”

Dutraad snorted angrily. “I don’t have time for your religious nonsense. We’re in the middle of a
battle
—”

“That’s what Indigoru
wants
!” Kendril cried. “She wants us confused, distracted, paying no attention to what’s happening in the plaza. If she opens a gate there, the battle’s over.”

Dutraad turned his horse back towards the northern street. “Nonsense—”

“Listen to me!” Kendril thundered. “You think one demon in Vorten is frightening? If that gate opens there will be
thousands
of demons and creatures of the Void pouring into Vorten. From here they’ll swarm over all Zanthora. We have to throw everything we have at the Central Plaza and stop it right now.”

Dutraad spun in his saddle. “If I push on the Central Bridge, it means abandoning the north and south. We’ll lose the city.”

“If you
don’t
,” Kendril said ominously, “then you’ll lose the city anyway.”

Dutraad stared at him for a long, hard moment, then turned his horse and trotted after the militiamen that were disappearing into the dark streets leading north.

“
Idiot
,” Kendril seethed. He turned back towards the edge of the square.

Joseph, Kara, and Maklavir stood disconsolately nearby. Hamis sat against the wall of a half-destroyed building.

Joseph raised an inquisitive eyebrow at Dutraad’s departing form. “Did he—?”

Kendril shook his head in answer to the unfinished question. “He doesn’t believe me.”

Maklavir clucked his tongue. “Well, it’s not like you’ve given him much of a reason, too, old boy. You and your friends haven’t really been on the best of terms with the good Baron.”

Kendril turned and looked down the eastern street. “We don’t have a choice. We have to make it to the plaza and stop that ritual.”

Hamis nodded painfully. He pushed himself up to his feet, then snatched his greatsword up into both hands. “Agreed. I’m with you, Kendril.”

“And me,” Joseph said softly.

“Me too,” said Kara. “Just find me a decent bow and a quiver of arrows, and I’ll be fine.” She looked down at her feet. “Actually, I decent pair of boots would be nice, too.”

Maklavir stepped forward as well. “Me too.”

Kendril stared at him. “You?”

“Oh, yes,” said Maklavir somberly. “You probably didn’t know, but my one great desire has always been to die miserably, screaming as creatures of the Void eat me alive.”

Kendril actually smiled. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“All the same,” said Maklavir, a new note of misery coming into his voice, “you’re going to make me come along anyways, aren’t you? I can already see where this is going. It’s just like back in Balneth, when you dragged me along with you to find a bloody secret entrance to some catacombs that you didn’t need me for anyways. I think you keep hoping I’ll just get killed.”

“And yet,” Kendril mused, “you’re still alive.”

“I signed my death warrant the day I stayed in that inn in the Howling Woods instead of running for my life,” Maklavir moaned. “So let me guess. You need me to guide you and the others through the sewers, right? To sneak under the river and launch some kind of sneak attack on the enemy?”

“Actually,” said Kendril lightly, “I would only need Kara for that.”

Maklavir stopped for a moment, pondering. “Well…I suppose that’s true.”

“But that’s not what we’re doing,” Kendril said.

Kara looked up from her feet. “We’re not?”

The Ghostwalker shook his head. “No. We can’t afford to lose our bearings in the dark, much less try to find our way to the Central Plaza after we emerge. Time is of the essence.”

Joseph uncrossed his arms. “What’s the plan, then?”

Kendril holstered his pistol again. “We’re going straight across the bridge.”

Chapter 18

“Halt!” A gendarme stepped out into the street, a carbine raised to his shoulder. “Who passes?”

Kendril raised his gloved hands. “Friends of Vorten. Where’s Lieutenant Gradine?” He nodded towards the battered brick building of a cutlery store. “There?”

The gendarme hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Kendril nodded grimly. “Take me to him, gendarme.”

The man shouldered his carbine, then waved them into the store.

The room was large, with windows looking out onto the boardwalk along the western side of the Inersa river. The windows had been shattered, and glass covered the floor. The far wall was pockmarked with bullet holes, and the broken remains of furniture covered the floorboards. Some of the larger pieces of wooden shelves and cabinets had been pushed up against the windows.

A half-dozen gendarmes were in the room. Three were sitting on a circle on the floor, playing cards by the guttering light of a single candle. Two others were lounging against the far wall, talking quietly. One gendarme stood by the windows, peering cautiously out as he smoked a pipe.

“Mr. Kendril.” Lieutenant Gradine got to his feet and nodded towards the Ghostwalker. “Welcome to the front lines.” He eyed the group behind Kendril curiously. “Are these your…friends?”

“Yes.” Kendril stepped up towards the windows and glanced out from behind a curtain.

The flat, dark bulk of the Central Bridge loomed in the darkness just outside, straddling both banks like an angry beast.

Kendril turned back into the room. “How many men do you have?”

Gradine thought for a second. “Probably about twenty. Gendarmes and some militia scattered through the buildings on either side of the street here. We had more at first, but Colonel Dutraad pulled at least two squads out. Said they were needed elsewhere.”

Kendril nodded, thinking. “How many men opposite us?”

Gradine looked out the windows and shrugged. “Hard to say. Probably about the same as us. They’ve just been sitting over there, though they take the occasional potshot at us, as you can see.” He gestured to the hole-covered wall behind them.

Kendril pushed away from the windows. “Good. Get your men together. We’re going across.”

Gradine blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me. We’re storming the bridge. Leave pikes behind, we won’t need them. We’re going to grab a foothold on the opposite bank and keep moving, all the way to the Central Plaza.”

One of the gendarmes tossed down his cards. “By whose orders?”

Kendril fastened the man with a baleful glare. “By
my
orders.” He turned to Gradine. “You were there. Dutraad gave me and the other Ghostwalkers military authority. I’m exercising it right now.”

The gendarmes exchanged uncertain glances.

Gradine swallowed and licked his lips. “I see. What…are your orders,
sir
?”

“Tell your men. Five minutes and we’re going across.”

“Begging your pardon,
sir
,” Gradine said, emphasizing the title, “but to make a proper assault we should have a numeric superiority—”

“Believe me,” Kendril said with a cold smile, “there’s nothing you can tell me about military strategy that I don’t already know, Lieutenant. We’re out of time, and there’s no other reinforcements coming. We’ll have to trust that the darkness will give us an advantage.”

“It will give
them
a bloody advantage, too,” one of the gendarmes muttered.

Kendril turned and pinned the man in his gaze. “Is there something you wanted to say to me, gendarme?”

The other men melted back.

The man stared for a long second at Kendril’s blazing eyes, then quickly shook his head. “No , sir.”

“Good. But since you seem to like to talk, you get the job of passing my orders on to the other gendarmes.” Kendril jerked his thumb towards the door. “Get moving.”

Hamis limped over to the windows, and looked out into the night. “If they’ve dug in on the other side it’ll be a rough go of it, Kendril.”

The Ghostwalker nodded.

Kara put down her quiver of arrows by a broken cabinet, and tested the string of her borrowed bow. “Not the greatest I’ve ever had, but at least it works.”

Joseph moved up next to her. “Kara,” he said quietly, “no one here will judge you if…if you want to—”

The thief gave Joseph a sharp look. “If I
what
?”

The grizzled scout shuffled his boots uncomfortably. Glass crinkled under his feet. “Well, if you want to stay behind.”

“Don’t be silly,” said Kara. “I’m coming.”

Maklavir held up his hand. “
I’d
like to stay behind.”

Kendril smirked. “Sorry, but you already volunteered to go, remember?”

The diplomat gave him a nasty glance. “That’s when I thought we were going through the
sewers
. If I knew you were launching some kind of suicide assault across the bridge, I never would have—”

“You’ve been through a lot already, Kara,” Joseph said, ignoring Maklavir. “I just think it might be better if you…stayed here this one time.”