The Chaoswar Saga: A Kingdom Besieged, A Crown Imperilled, Magician’s End

‘Impossible. The Quegans are patrolling between their miserable island and Land’s End, and Keshian warships patrol the coast from here to Land’s End. The Kingdom navy is bottled up there, but they send fast raiders out now and again to punish Kesh for her aggression.’

‘News?’ asked Jim.

‘Little, but rumours bloom like flowers in the desert after rain.’ The captain stood up. ‘If we are to time the run to Sorcerer’s Isle, we must leave now.’

‘I thought you said it was impossible.’

Nefu smiled and suddenly years fell away from him. There was a glint in his eye. ‘I said it was impossible. I didn’t say I couldn’t do it. Wait here.’ He turned and left.

For the first time in weeks, Jim found himself laughing. If Kaseem hadn’t already taken this smuggler into his service, he’d recruit him for his own Mockers.

Assuming of course there was still a Guild of Thieves by the time he returned to Krondor.

Assuming there was even a Krondor to return to.

• CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#ulink_84b7fe63-53aa-5990-9d49-0e87eb5a017a) •

Discovery (#ulink_84b7fe63-53aa-5990-9d49-0e87eb5a017a)

CHILD ATTACKED.

The three demons she ambushed turned and presented an impressive array of fangs and claws, and one began to incant a spell. A magic-user! She modified her attack and ripped his throat out before he could continue his magic and he fell to the rocks, gurgling his cry of pain.

The other two would have overmatched her, but she now had allies and they came swarming over the rocks behind the two remaining demons and, despite being smaller, overwhelmed them quickly.

‘Eat,’ she said to her small band. ‘But that one is mine,’ she added, indicating the magic-user, and beckoned for Belog to join her. She desired magic and without a teacher, eating magic-users was her only means of acquiring that ability. Her skills were rudimentary, primitive even. She could channel a push of energy which might topple a small opponent, or cast a small flame, but that was all.

For an unknowable period of time she had been leading this band of demons across a rugged landscape, through volcano-strewn broken lands of basalt and red rock. The sky was dark grey at noon and the sun seemed to be in an odd orbit, never quite sinking below the horizon. Belog said that meant they were reaching a nexus, one of the six poles in their realm: the East Pole. The Darkness seemed to have converged on the Heart Nexus, where the East, West, North, South, Top, and Bottom Poles intersected. Energies cascaded unexpectedly along the surfaces of the clouds above them and the air stank of ash and bitter minerals as fiery mountains spewed clouds of dark smoke and cinders up into the canopy of grey and black.

Child had begun to gather followers over the last month, allowing those she felt unable to contribute to be devoured by the others. She was even generous in her allocation of who ate first, waiting until the end to claim her portion. She was still struggling to define herself, but at some point she had become aware of the concepts of generosity and gratitude. Being generous could engender thanks, or project weakness, depending on the context. Gratitude could generate true allegiance, or feigned loyalty disguising betrayal. She was struggling to find the nuances of these differences.

She was becoming more subtle, and Belog was becoming more fascinated. It was clear to him that she was unique among the People. She was something unpredictable. It was hard to know whether she was his greatest discovery or his most dangerous.

She glanced around as they ate. ‘I find this place … unpleasant. I preferred the last place we rested.’

He tilted his head slightly in a gesture she had come to understand meant he was pondering what she had said and was framing a reply. He scratched at his cheek absently with a sharp, gleaming talon and said, ‘Really? The energy planes are far more dangerous in these volcanic tablelands. The vortex rifts and void windows can destroy with a touch or snatch you out of this reality and transport you to another.’ He made a claws snapping gesture for emphasis.

She shrugged. ‘I don’t know why, but it pleased me to look at the cascading lights in the night and see the shimmering silver lights during the day. It gave me a similar feeling to when I eat something particularly tasty or look at certain males.’ As she said this, she cast a glance at one of the young male demons who had been spared because he was on his way to becoming a daunting fighter. Muscular arms hung from a massive upper torso, yet his waist was still small and his legs were slender. Were they still living in the city of Das’taas, he would have long since been killed and consumed or recruited as a soldier in one Demon Lord’s faction or another, perhaps even marked to become a City Guardian or palace guard.

Belog observed Child watch the male and sighed silently. She would choose to mate soon and that could create difficulties. The nature of the People was that procreation was an adjunct to the spawning pits, where life in the realm originated and where demonkind arose. It was from the pits that a demon re-emerged after death, with some or all memories intact depending on the circumstances of death. Violent deaths, which were in the majority, often robbed the demon of some memory. But birth was another aspect of creation, and it was relatively infrequent. Demons had mated for pleasure as long as they had been in existence, but the societies in which they lived were never stable enough for young to be successfully produced in any significant number. Rarely did a pregnant female survive, and when a child was born, it was often devoured, often by its own mother in retribution for the pain and inconvenience of child-bearing. A few mothers chose to nurture their child, perhaps thinking to create their first vassal, but it rarely ended well. Adolescent demons were always fractious and rarely around for long; those that survived to adulthood tended to the cunning or powerful, and picked their conflicts wisely.

The rise of the kings had changed things, in the First Kingdoms and now the Second Kingdoms, and Dahun had been foremost in reforming and remaking his people; the spawning pits still existed – how could they not? But families, a new and alien concept, were mandated and pairs were appointed to breed, Child’s mother and father among them.

No one could claim to understand why Lord Dahun had done this, but none would openly question him. It was supposed by the Archivists that at some point he would instruct them on what was to come next in the forced evolution of the People, but the arrival of the Darkness had thrown all into chaos.

When Dahun vanished, society had not just reverted to its former state: it had disintegrated. Those left surviving the anarchy that once was Dahun’s Kingdom would be little better than the Mad Ones, let alone the Savages in whose lands they now trespassed. Belog was forced to admit that if it wasn’t for the strength of Child’s will and personality, this little band would not exist, and he would most certainly already be dead.

He watched as Child finished devouring the brain of the magic-user and applied herself to his torso while keeping her gaze upon the young male. Finally she said, ‘I like his look.’

‘Beauty,’ said Belog. ‘You have come to appreciate the enjoyment that is derived from perceiving things that are pleasing to look at, irrespective of their usefulness or danger. You feel better just looking at the energy plains or the setting sun, or that young male.’

‘Yes, I do,’ she said. ‘Tell me more about beauty,’ she instructed, and he did.

They left the volcanic plateau and found themselves entering a realm of thick bramble, black with huge thorns, shot through with meandering pathways that might lead somewhere. ‘Where are we?’ Child asked Belog.

‘I am uncertain,’ he replied. ‘I believe we are in the region known as the Blasted Plain, a harsh land before we reach the heart of Maarg’s kingdom.’

‘Tell me about Maarg,’ she instructed. She motioned for her followers to gather around and Belog realized they now numbered almost two dozen. They tended to be quiet, out of fear, or gratitude, or respect, Belog didn’t care to speculate on which. He counted himself lucky that he was critical to Child and he wished to keep it that way. At worst, that would ensure he was the last one to be eaten by her. At best, he had a benefactor and protector who was growing in intelligence, physical power, and magical knowledge by the day.

He looked around trying to determine which course through the brambles might suit them best. He knelt for a minute and felt his jacket bind across his back. It had been an odd affectation on Dahun’s part to dress his Archivists in black coats and grey trousers. Given the diversity of shapes among demons, it had made for some particularly odd-looking Archivists at times. Still, it had made them instantly recognizable as were his guardians and enabled Belog to move freely throughout Dahun’s realm. However, Child’s generosity in feeding him was causing him to grow, a condition which used to be prevented by the careful oversight of the King’s Chief Archivist. In Dahun’s Kingdom you could be intelligent or powerful, but never both.

Finally Belog pointed and said, ‘I believe that way may be a wise choice.’

She looked at him with a odd expression and then he heard a sound he had never heard from a young demon: laughter. It was a different sort of laughter from that of the older demons, who laughed with a maniacal, joyless howl at the pain and destruction they caused, or at the crushing defeat of their enemies, or the lamentations and pleas for mercy from those about to be devoured. But this was something new: this was a laugh of amusement, not at another’s pain.

As he followed Child into the brambles, he thought, What are you becoming?

They hit several dead ends, and on the fourth, Child’s temper erupted, causing her to cast a ball of fire at the brambles that started a conflagration that had them running back the way they had come. Child collapsed a safe distance away and began to roar with laughter. The other demons looked from one to another and tried to mimic her mirth, but failed.

‘Can’t let my temper get the better of me,’ she mused as she stood up.

‘You always had that problem—’ Belog stopped. Where did that thought come from? Again, he was befuddled by this creature he was following and by his own changes, which he understood no better than he understood hers.

They left the forest of brambles and found themselves on a hillside looking down at an abandoned city, with desolate land surrounding it. ‘Maarg’s city,’ said Belog.

‘Again,’ she demanded, and he knew what she asked.

‘Maarg was the greatest of the Savage kings. He was a glutton and consumed all his enemies, growing massively obese as a sign of his majesty; he savoured raw power and his court was formed by trial by combat and by cunning. If a warrior killed his superior he gained his place and Maarg’s favour, for the King felt he was replacing a vassal with a stronger one.

‘His court was always a place of terrible balance between loyalty in exchange for protection and the potential for betrayal. It made Maarg especially vengeful and unforgiving.’

As Belog spoke he marvelled that there was no need for him to explain those concepts, for to understand vengeance you had to understand forgiveness. And forgiveness to any member of the People was an abstract concept. Even Archivists struggled to grasp it.

‘Tell me again of the part about him leaving and why?’

‘There are only rumours. It is said that somewhere in his city is a hall and in that hall is a gate to the higher realms. Someone from those higher realms opened that gate years past, and Maarg’s army poured through, devouring everything in their path.

‘It is said Maarg went there and perished, or found another realm to rule; but no one really knows.’ As they started down a long road to the city, Belog added, ‘Many kings of the Savage Lands, and even some companies of Mad Ones came here, seeking to take this for themselves. Yet they did not stay.’

‘Why?’ asked Child.

‘It is lifeless.’

She stopped and the rest of her entourage did so as well. She said, ‘Yes, I sense it.’

‘Sense it?’

She resumed walking. ‘It’s a feeling. What caused this?’