Sons of Evil: Book 1 Book of Dread (19 page)

Darius helped his brother to
his feet and motioned at the Blood Book, which Adrianna still grasped with both
hands. “Guess we were lucky with that, too.”

“That reminds me,” said
Adrianna, shifting the book to one hand and fishing in her pocket. As she
pulled out the small stone and held it forth in her palm for the others to see.
“This rock mean anything to any of you? I think that little demon must have
been carrying it.”

Everyone indicated the
negative after a quick glance. Barlow took it and studied it for a moment.

“Just a shiny rock,” he said. “Doesn’t
appear to be a talisman or symbol of any sort.”

“Wait a minute,” Darius said. He
held his hand out and said politely, “Do you mind?” After Barlow handed him the
rock he turned it over a few times, then nodded with some finality. “This is
mine.”

“He took it from your pack?”
Adrianna asked.

“No. It’s something I found
when I was much younger. I liked the way it looked, thought it was full of gold
and would make me rich. My mother patted me on the head and told me to hang
onto it, that it’d be worth even more when I was older. Eventually I understood
she was humoring me, but I never could bring myself to throw it out.”

Luke, already pale from his
injury, looked stricken. “Then that thing was in our house.”

The words struck Darius like a
punch to the gut. “We’ve got to do something.”

Silas put a hand on his arm. “You
are. You’ve taken the book away from your home. You already knew Landri would
be looking for it, that’s why you fled with it.”

“But my parents—”

“Don’t have the book.”

“They may be in danger.”

Silas sighed and closed his
eyes for a moment. When he opened them he affixed Darius with a look both
understanding and stern. “They may be. No reason to lie to you about that. But
the most trouble will follow the book. If you want to leave it with us and go
home, do so. But the last thing you want to do is go back with the Book of
Dread in your possession, unless you intend to give it to Landri and beg for
his mercy.”

“Such as it is,” Adrianna
added.

“They’re right,” Luke told his
brother. “I’d like to go home too, just to know what’s happening, to know
they’re okay. But we can do more good here.”

“I know…,” said Darius, his
words trailing off as he looked away to the south, as if he hoped for some
signal that would tell him everyone back home was safe. He clutched the rock,
his knuckles going white with the pressure. Slowly he forced himself to relax,
then put the rock in his pocket. “Let’s go,” he said as he brushed by the
others and headed for their gear.

Without a word the others dutifully
followed.

*

Orgoth was not one to waste
words. He was as brutal and direct with language as he was with the greatsword
he carried into battle. As soon as the connection with Kaelesh had been made,
he said, “Ondrel’s horse returned without him.”

Kaelesh shook his head. “I’m
surprised, but I now have a better understanding of why the hunter has not
replied to my summons for several days. Ondrel, you say…a good fighter?”

“Good enough to take out a
small group of humans. He had a dozen riders with him. Perhaps I overestimated
his prowess.”

“Or maybe we underestimated
our enemies.”

Orgoth
made a fist and thumped his chest. “I will see to them myself.”

“And then we’d certainly be
victorious,” Kaelesh said with an appeasing smile. “But it will take a week or
more for me to find their trail again, and then you’d have to go after them,
and away from the war. I’m not sure I want to make that trade-off right now.”

“But they have the book.”

“With no way to open it or use
it. I have wondered where they’re going with it. Perhaps to someone they deem
more powerful than they. Perhaps an enemy more appropriate for Orgoth to test
his skill against.”

“Bah,” Orgoth grunted with a
dismissive wave.

“I’ve no doubt of the outcome,
my brother.”

“Are you certain you wish to let
them go? They’ve bested some of our own. We should have vengeance. I could send
a thousand as easily as I sent a dozen.”

“You could, but then we might
give these three kingdoms a reason to unite rather than fight one another. An
army of demons would give them pause.”

Orgoth said nothing, unable to
counter his brother’s point.

Kaelesh went on. “Remember our
real purpose, Orgoth. And as far as this little group with the book, imagine if
we could find a way to break them, to turn them from whatever just cause they
believe they’re fighting for? We could slay them, yes, and likely we will, one
way or another. But what if they lost their way and their souls first? Much
better, yes?”

Orgoth grunted again. “Perhaps.
But there is a certain satisfaction in simply cleaving a foe in half with your
sword.”

Kaelesh laughed. “I’ll take
your word for it. Leave them to me for now. I’ll let you know if I need you.”

After Kaelesh was gone, Orgoth
stood for a time brooding, his fingers drumming out a rapid beat on the table in
his tent. Finally he shook his head as if to chase the thoughts of what had
happened away, put on his helmet, and stepped outside, ready to take his anger
out on foes closer at hand.

The heat of the summer season
had reached and passed its peak, and although the travelers still felt sweat on
their brow during the day, the nights were becoming more pleasant. Not only
were evenings now a welcome relief in terms of temperature, they were also an
escape from the blight that had gripped the plains of Dalusia, everything
withered and colored in dull yellows, browns, and grays. The companions really
didn’t think of the people of Dalusia as the enemy—they knew they were fighting
a different war—but even if they had they would have taken no delight in the
stunted growth. It was simply depressing.

They made reasonable progress,
being unhindered in actuality but needing to proceed with caution since they
were traveling in enemy territory. No matter how open and empty the plains
might appear none could shake the feeling that they were being watched. Even if
there were no more of the little demon hunters, the two that had gotten into
their camp had unsettled them. While none of them were particularly at ease,
Adrianna appeared the most uneasy, a fact Silas had taken note of since the
battle with Ondrel and the other demons. He waited patiently, hoping she would
recover on her own or openly express what was bothering her, but she had
remained closed, only the occasional worried scans of the horizon or concerned
glances at her fellow travelers giving her away. Silas knew her to be
intelligent and courageous, knew it wasn’t just the fear of another attack
eating at her, especially since they all thought another attack was inevitable
anyway. As twilight indicated another day was drawing to a close and that they
would soon be making camp, Silas decided it was time to talk.

“We’ve been lucky,” he stated

“So far,” she replied with a
neutral expression.

“Mind sharing what’s bothering
you?”

She laughed. “Other than the
fact that a bunch of demons want us dead?”

Silas smiled. “Yes. Other than
that.”

Adrianna paused, looked at
Silas, and sighed. “I don’t doubt we’re doing the right thing, trying to keep
the book away from Landri, trying to get it open so we might be able to stop a
lot of what’s befallen Corterra. And everyone here has a stout heart and has
earned their place in this company.”

“But…”

“I’m not sure we’re up to the
task. The obstacles seem to be growing while we grow weaker. When we set out, I
thought we’d have to avoid a few patrols, maybe deal with some creatures in the
wild. I didn’t expect to be facing actual demons with a group of—” She stopped
herself and flushed, embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”

"It’s all right. Go on.”

“I’ve said enough already.”

“No, you haven’t. If we’re
going to have any chance to come out of this alive, we need to be fully
committed to our task and to one another. If you have doubts you need to speak
them.”

She hesitated a bit longer,
then her chin dropped and she went on. “Darius is a trained soldier. At least
he knows how to fight. Luke...you’ve done a good job of working with him, and
someday he’ll likely make a fine soldier as well, but he’s young and he’s hurt,
and so is Barlow.”

“They’ll heal.”

“Eventually. But with Barlow
I’m less worried about the wound than his age. The stress of fighting Ondrel
almost did him in. I hope you didn’t think I missed that.”

Now it was Silas’ turn to be
embarrassed. “I actually thought that everyone did.”

“Sorry to disappoint you. Look,
I know I’ve had my differences with Barlow, so don’t misunderstand. He brought
Ondrel down, him and that sword of his, and I doubt any of the rest of us could
have done so. So there, he saved us all, saved me. I’ll admit that. But what if
his body gives out? I fear he might have the courage, but not the heart,
literally, to see this through. And I’m not sure the rest of us have the power
to protect him, to protect Luke, to protect each other. I include myself as
well. I’m serviceable in my craft, but I’m no master sorceress.”

“And what of me? Surely I’ve
got weaknesses as well.”

“We all do. I’m not as worried
about you. That hard head of yours can probably take just about anything our
enemies can dish out.”

“I wasn’t looking for a
compliment, backhanded though that was. The question is, what other options do
we have?”

Adrianna couldn’t stop herself
from smiling. “What do you think I’ve been brooding about for the last five
days?”

“Let me know if you come up
with something.”

“I will,” she said. “And
Silas. Thanks.”

“Any time,” he said with a
nod, then quickened his step, closing the gap with the others and leaving her
alone with her thoughts.

She was grateful for the
chance to express her doubts, but there was one she had kept to herself. She
watched Silas stroll boldly across the foreign soil, his head held high, his
strong muscles rippling beneath his cleric’s robes. She had no doubt he would
put himself in the way of danger for any of them, would die to protect his
companions. She thought of him as the strongest, the most up to the task before
them, and the wounds and weaknesses she saw in the others, and even in herself,
frightened her all the more.

*

King Landri should have been
pleased. The war on both fronts was going well, the harvest apparently would be
a decent one—far better than those in Dalusia and Westphalia from all
reports—and a small uprising in the southern port city of Crescent had been put
down with minimal loss of life. But his smile was forced as he said, “Very
good,” and he dismissed his advisors with a wave of his hand.

Kaelesh, as always, was last
to the door.

“Stay a moment,” Landri said.

Expecting this, Kaelesh turned
and waited placidly before his king.

“What news of the book?”

“I have discovered who took it
and who has it.”

Landri was clearly surprised
by the news. Whatever pleasure he might have felt in hearing progress was being
made soon vanished. “Why was I not told?”

“I had preferred to finish the
task and place the book back in your hands.”

Landri scowled, not appeased. “Well,
who took it then?”

“One of the young women you
took into your bedchamber while under the influence of too much wine, my king.”
Knowing this subtle accusation would knock Landri off balance, Kaelesh quickly
added a small lie. “She has been found and taken care of.”

“I take it she did not have
the book?”

“No. Her brother took it and
fled.”

“And where is he?”

“Somewhere in Dalusia.”

Landri started to stand, but
the fierce grip he had on the arms of his throne held him back. “Dalusia! He
must be taking it to our enemies.”

“I do not believe so, my
liege. He is running as far away as he can, trying to keep the book from us. He
is not looking to give it away.”

“But perhaps he means to sell
it, or even to use it himself.” Now sweat started to form on Landri’s forehead.

“No, my king,” Kaelesh said in
a firm tone. “He cannot open the book. He does not have the heart for it.”

“What is his name?”

“Daryl Loseman,” Kaelesh said
without missing a beat. Kaelesh knew what would happen to the Stonemans if he
revealed their name, and while he might have enjoyed the spectacle at another
time, for now he wanted them alive. “Turns out he is now the last surviving
member of his family.”

Landri sat back hard against
his throne, the force of the movement knocking the air out of him like a great
sigh. “I suppose I should be happy you’ve learned so much. I began to doubt
even you would be able to locate the book.”

Kaelesh feigned being hurt by
the words. “My king, when have I ever failed you?”

“Never,” Landri admitted. “Don’t
start now.”

“I will not.”

“So, how do you know this
Loseman is in Dalusia?”

“I have my ways,” Kaelesh
said.

“No doubt. Can you move
against him?”

“In time. He has the aid of a
few others. I am seeing to it, but there are many things that need tended to. We
have a kingdom to run and a war to win.”

Landri almost snapped back at
the use of the word “we,” but he caught himself. He was king, yes, but he
reminded himself from time to time that much of what he had accomplished was
only due to Kaelesh's help and direction. He would never say it openly, and he
often wondered if Kaelesh thought the same thing and felt any bitterness about
it. One thing Landri did know was that Kaelesh was extremely dangerous, and
that even he dare not push him too hard. He decided to content himself that
progress was being made, and more importantly that nothing vital had changed
since the book had gone missing, particularly his relationship with Kaelesh. “You
are right, of course. I trust you will soon return the book to us, where it
belongs, my friend. You may go.”

Kaelesh bowed low and took his
leave. Once outside the throne room, his face grew more stern, a warning to any
who passed him in the halls to keep their distance. When he reached his room
and bolted the door he was certain he would not be disturbed.

Even had he not expected Praad
to be waiting there for him, he would have sensed him. The air was thick and
heavy, as if by his very presence Praad made despair and doom into tangible
objects that hung about like pregnant clouds. Praad stood in one corner of the
room, nearly lost in the shadows, the hood of his black cloak casting even
deeper shadows on his face. “You were gone longer than you expected,” Praad
said, his voice the whisper of a dying man’s final breath.

“Some of the king’s advisors
can be long-winded,” Kaelesh answered, “and Landri enjoys the fawning.”

“It does not matter. He asked
after the book?”

“Yes, in private. I put him at
ease. We will have the time we need.”

“And if he grows impatient?”

Kaelesh shrugged. “No reason
for concern. I can control Landri, as always. And if he ever becomes an
obstacle, he will be eliminated.”

“I hope it does not come to
that. He has been quite useful, in his way.”

“I agree, and that’s why he
still draws breath. But enough about him. Do you require anything before you
go?”

“I am in need of nothing. I’m
looking forward to meeting those who took the book.”

“Let me know when you find
them. And, Praad, do be careful. They’ve proved themselves somewhat
resourceful. Don’t take any unnecessary risks.”

“Kaelesh, I’m surprised at
you. You think we have anything to fear from such as these?”

Kaelesh smiled. “Of course
not. Not really. But underestimating one’s enemy can be a fatal mistake. Ondrel
likely made such an error.”

For the first time since
Kaelesh entered the room Praad moved, standing a bit taller. “I am not Ondrel,”
he hissed.

“I meant no insult, my
brother. You will do well, as always.”

Praad gave a subtle nod in
recognition of the compliment, then said, “I will take my leave.”

He left the room and then
departed the castle and its grounds, keeping to the shadows as much as
possible. Those whom he did pass always found somewhere else to fix their eyes
as Praad neared, and they tended to shrink against the opposite wall of the
hallway or the other side of the street. After he had passed it seemed that
breathing came easier once more, and he was soon put out of mind by nearly all
who encountered him.

Kaelesh, of course, was
different. He watched from a high window as his brother melted into the night. Until
he heard from him, he would have little else on his mind.

*

During the long days and
nights traveling across the Dalusian plains, the companions had had ample time
to think about and discuss what was before them, but there were always too many
variables to make clear plans as to how they would pass into the Far North and
then somehow reach the Ice Elves in the great Auerl Forest. Before they could
reach Elysium’s Neck and the Far North beyond, they would need to go through
one of the cities know as “The Twins”—Bloomfield and Brumfield—or else pass
through the wall that stretched between them. It was meant as a barrier to any
creature trying to come south and was always well-guarded. It was not a given
that they would simply be allowed through. Their only other option was to find
passage on a boat across the waters on either side of Elysium’s Neck, which
seemed an even more remote possibility.

What hope they had of reaching
one of The Twins or the wall unhindered met its most severe obstacle early one
afternoon as they moved within a day’s march of Bloomfield. Luke was in the
lead when he suddenly pulled up and pointed into the distance.

“Banners,” he stated.

“Dalusian,” Darius confirmed,
noting the purple and white colors of the flags.

The open plains gave
excellent, far-reaching views, but offered little in the way of cover. The
companions dropped to the ground and observed for a time, finally determining
that a rather large force was moving nearly parallel to their path.