A Crown Imperilled

CHAPTER EIGHT

The inn was packed.

Brendan could barely get through the door as he entered and made his way through the press of bodies. As soon as he returned to Martin he was going to suggest they open another building, perhaps one of the nearby stores, and house some people there. This one was fit for a brawl at a moment’s notice give how crowded it was. Moreover, with nothing else to do, most of those in the commons were just drinking, and a room full of unhappy drunks was a recipe for disaster.

How to begin? thought Brendan. He couldn’t just stand up on the table and ask if there was a magician in the room. He moved slowly through the press, trying not to jostle anyone holding a drink while he scanned faces. Almost everyone he spied was obvious in their calling: teamsters from the north, traders from the Free Cities. One fellow caught his eye until he realized he was the storyteller-minstrel who had tried to convince the mayor to let him sing for his supper at the mayor’s house until Martin had him escorted down here.

Towards the back of the room were two tables, one occupied by four men and the other by an odd assortment of two elves, a short man who looked Keshian, and a striking-looking woman who was vaguely familiar to Brendan. He wondered what it was about the four men that struck him as odd. They were wearing travelling clothes of good cut and fabric, but not overly fine. None appeared to be armed, but even at his young age Brendan had learned that a wily man could secrete half a dozen blades on his person. Then two things struck him at the same moment: their hair was cut in identical fashion — rather than long over the ears as most poor workers often wore, or cropped short and rudely cut, these men had a well-barbered look that one saw on rich men and in court. The other thing that struck him was the fact that although they were sitting together, the four appeared to be studiously ignoring one another, pretending to be four strangers who found themselves at the same table. When he glanced downward, he saw they wore identical boots.

Brendan veered away from them and approached the other table. By then the two elves and their companions had taken notice of his approach, the woman staring hard at him. As he reached the table, she said, ‘Martin?’

He smiled. ‘My brother. We are often mistaken for one another.’

She returned the smile. ‘You’re Brendan, then.’

‘Yes,’ he said, his smile becoming a quizzical expression. ‘Do I know you, lady?’

‘You were very young when I last visited Crydee,’ she said. ‘I spent most of my time with your father and your eldest brother. How are they?’

Brendan’s smile faded and he said, ‘We lost father in the war, and Hal was last heard from in Roldem, where he was at university.’

‘I am Miranda,’ she said, rising.

‘Wife of Pug?’ asked Brendan. ‘Then you are exactly who we need. Please come with me.’

She glanced at the others and Nakor said, ‘You scoot along. We’ll watch …’ He shrugged and she knew he meant the four men.

Brendan said, ‘I scarcely believe my fortune in finding you.’

Heads were turning as those nearby couldn’t help but overhear the exchange. ‘Let’s talk outside, shall we?’ suggested Miranda.

Before they could reach the door, a sound split the air unlike anything heard in this city’s history. It was a bellow of rage so loud that the buildings shook and plaster dust and fell from the ceiling. It was as if an earthquake rocked the city.

A few of the drunker guests of the inn fell down. Some ducked under tables, while others pushed towards the door.

Brendan acted without hesitation, drawing his sword and slamming the basket hilt into the stomach of a man attempting to push past him towards the door. ‘Sit down!’ he shouted, as he struck a second man across the jaw. For a brief second the surge halted. He might be young and slender, but Brendan was the one with the sword and the best most of these drunks had was a belt knife.

As the men in the commons pressed toward the door, the four silent men in the rear of the inn stood and as one reached up to unfasten their hooded robes. The robes fell away. Beneath, each man was dressed alike, in a deep red tunic and black trousers ending in black ankle boots. Around each man’s neck hung an amulet and in its centre a red jewel glowed.

‘Oh, my,’ said Nakor. He felt the hair on his arms, neck, and head prickle with gooseflesh, and he was sure he could smell a very familiar magic stench. To Arkan and Calis he said, ‘Please, kill those four men. Quickly!’

Calis took a moment to consider, but Arkan acted without hesitation. Whatever else these annoying humans might be, he had been around beings of power enough times in his life to recognize that the little man and the tall woman were far more formidable and dangerous than they appeared to be. Moreover, he had been watching those four men on the other side of the room more closely than the others had and by now possessed a firm sense that they were not only dangerous, but that there was something wrong with them. It was like running across a sick animal in the wild. You might not at first be able to judge what the problem was, but in an instant you knew it wasn’t a healthy bear or deer. It didn’t matter if the animal was rabid, poisoned, wounded from an earlier struggle, you just knew you had to kill it as quickly as possible before it infected other animals.

Arkan’s second arrow was back to his ear by the time the first one struck one of the four men in the neck, killing him instantly. He let it fly as Calis loosed his first and two more men died. The last man began an incantation, uninterrupted by the death of his companions. They must be spell-casters! Arkan’s third arrow finished his chant.

Bedlam erupted as those nearby dived for cover and shouts of anger and fear filled the room. Brendan wisely stepped aside as the second surge of the crowd towards the door threatened to overwhelm him.

Miranda grabbed the nearest man, a very drunk teamster by all appearances, and with little apparent effort picked him up by the front of his tunic and threw him into the crowd, causing a general collapse of bodies. ‘Outside!’ she shouted at Brendan, who took no pause in turning, opening the door, and leaping through.

The two city watchmen posted at the door were turning to investigate the noise as Brendan made his exit, almost knocking them down.

‘Sir?’ asked one, a youngster barely big enough to hold the pike he’d been given.

‘Let them through,’ said Brendan, stepping to one side, followed a moment later by Miranda. Then there was an explosion of bodies out of the door, as those who had been trapped inside for days came flooding outside to scatter in all directions.

The other watchman, an elderly, toothless man, said, ‘What are we to do, young sir?’

‘Don’t get trampled,’ said Brendan.

The bellow that had begun the ruckus was repeated, clearly coming from the direction of the harbour. ‘And that, young sir?’ asked the old watchman.

‘We’ll see to that,’ said Miranda.

Brendan said, ‘You know what it is?’

She nodded. ‘Only too well.’ Her tone left no doubt that Brendan wouldn’t care for the revelation.

‘What about these blokes, sir?’ asked the young watchman as the last of the inhabitants of the inn who didn’t wish to remain exited the building.

‘Let them scatter as long as they don’t cause trouble. We’ll round them up later, if we survive what’s coming,’ said Brendan. ‘They’ve nowhere else to go, so it’s either to the wall to fight, or back here to drink. Just make sure no one tries to go out the northern gate.’ The young soldier saluted and ran off in that direction.

Nakor and the two elves exited, and Nakor said, ‘Keshian Demon Masters.’

Miranda nodded. ‘Dead?’

‘Yes,’ said the little man. ‘Our elf friends are very efficient.’

‘Well, one problem solved, and another begun,’ said Miranda. ‘Come, to the wall!’

Nakor said, ‘Yes, I can feel it,’ as if answering an unasked question.

‘Feel what?’ asked Arkan.

‘Don’t worry,’ said Nakor. ‘You’ll get to kill a lot of humans shortly!’

‘Just make sure they’re on the other side of the wall,’ said Calis, as the group broke into a trot.

The wall and main gate hove into view as they rounded a corner. Brendan sprinted the last ten yards and took the steps two at a time. Reaching the wall, he could barely negotiate the press of bodies gathered there and as he moved past Bethany and Lily, who were now stationed with the archers nearest the steps to safety, pushing through a knot of soldiers, towards his brother, he began shouting, ‘Back to your posts! There could be more than one-’

He stopped as he saw what everyone on the walls was staring at. A nearby soldier in a Crydee tabard said, ‘I pray there’s not more than one, m’lord.’

Another soldier in the city militia said, ‘One is more than likely enough, m’lord.’

What they saw was a monster, looming twenty feet above the water as it slowly walked towards the gate. The head looked like a cross between a lizard and monkey’s, but it was covered in scales and possessed fan-like ears that swept back from the side of its head. Down its back ran a ridged fin, like a sailfish. The body was roughly humanoid in shape, though the shoulders and chest were massive and each hand ended in talons as long as swords. The reek of the thing was nearly overpowering even from this distance, as if every dead thing on the sea floor had been scooped together and somehow fashioned into the creature. As it slowly rose up out of the bay, sheets of water poured off it, the sun glinting off its scales. Reaching the shallowest part of the bay, which was still deep enough for large boats to ferry cargo to the quay, the monster now walked in water barely reaching mid-thigh.

‘My gods,’ said Martin. ‘What is it?’

Far behind the thing, boats were coming into view. Brendan estimated at least fifty. He looked to the western road to Crydee and saw dust and banners in the distance. ‘Looks as if the Keshians have got tired of waiting.’

Martin said, ‘They want that thing to knock down the gates, then they plan on hitting us head-on; not a lot of subtlety there.’

‘None needed,’ said Brendan.

Martin glanced past Brendan and saw the woman moving up to his brother’s shoulder. ‘Miranda?’

‘You remember me?’ she said.

‘Yes, and your timing is excellent.’ He pointed at the massive creature approaching the city. ‘Can you do anything?’

‘It’s a water demon!’ shouted Nakor with a tone approaching delight.

‘Water demon?’ asked Brendan. ‘I didn’t know they existed.’

‘All sorts of demons exist,’ said Nakor in an almost jocular tone. ‘Water, air, earth, fire, animal, bird. Some are very smart, others very stupid. The demon realm is a very confusing place, even for demons.’

‘You sound as if you know a lot,’ said Martin, glancing at Miranda.

‘Nakor,’ she supplied.

‘Nakor,’ continued Martin. ‘What are we to do with this one?’

The creature was starting to rise up near the burned-out docks. It bellowed again and this time those on the walls crouched lower as the stones beneath their feet vibrated. The creature looked first one way, then another, as if seeking something or someone.

‘If we had a summoner, he could control it or banish it, but unfortunately we just killed whoever that was,’ said Nakor.

‘What?’ asked Brendan.

‘There were four Keshians of some order or cult.’

‘I saw them.’

‘One of them was a summoner, certainly. The other three were his acolytes or guardians.’

‘Archers!’ shouted Martin.

Those with bows rose up, nocking arrows and taking a bead on the creature.

‘Save your arrows,’ said Miranda. ‘They’ll only annoy it.’

The creature took another step, raised a foot as if contemplating stepping up onto the quay, then slowly lowered it back to the water, hesitating. It bellowed, stopped and looked around, as if confused.

‘What’s it doing?’ asked Martin.

‘It’s looking for whoever summoned it,’ said Nakor. ‘Four men, even if only one is a summoner, means very powerful skill is needed to bring it here and control it. It was conjured out there-,’ he pointed at the harbour, ‘-because it was the only water deep enough.’

‘Under the mud,’ said Brendan.

‘Even the water wasn’t deep enough,’ amended Nakor. ‘It doesn’t like being up in the air, likes land less, and hates fire.’

‘Should we use fire arrows?’ asked Martin.

‘Only if you really want to annoy it,’ said Miranda.

The summoned demon waited, looking from one side of the harbour mouth to the other.

‘What happens next?’ asked Martin of Miranda.

‘When it gets tired of waiting to be told what to do, it will decide if it’s more irritated by being here or hungry. If the first, it may decide to come here and rip up the city out of spite, or it may turn around and start swimming out to sea, looking for food.’

‘This one is pretty stupid,’ said Nakor. ‘If we don’t annoy it may just look for food. It will probably eat half the fish in the Bitter Sea and any ship it happens across.’ He pointed to the longboats that were hovering just beyond the creature. ‘If there’s another Demon Master out there in a boat, we’ll know soon.’

‘Can’t it be banished magically, back to wherever it came from?’ asked Brendan.

‘Only by a Demon Master,’ said Nakor.

‘Or if you kill it.’ added Miranda.

‘Can you kill it?’ asked Martin, ‘with magic?’

Miranda looked at Nakor and they both knew the answer. The real Miranda could almost certainly have disposed of this creature, if not quickly and cleanly, eventually, but Child only knew what Miranda knew in the abstract. She knew the spells Miranda would have employed, but she could not use them. But as Child she had learned her own combat magic.

‘No,’ said Miranda, jumping up into a crenel. ‘I’ll have to do it the hard way.’

‘What?!’ Martin reached out as if to stop her, but she was over the wall.

‘Is she mad?’ exclaimed Brendan.

‘Most of the time,’ answered Nakor, looking down to where Miranda had landed without injury.

‘Amazing,’ said Martin. ‘She should be dead.’

‘Almost certainly,’ agreed Nakor.

Miranda reached down, grabbing the back hem of her dress, pulling it up and hiking the hem of her dress up to the top of her thighs. She tucked the extra fabric into the leather belt she wore, in the fashion of fisherwomen along the coasts in any country.

‘Not fighting togs,’ said Nakor, ‘but they’ll do.’ Then with a grin he added, ‘I always thought she had wonderful legs.’

Both brothers looked at the short gambler with expressions that indicated they both now regarded him as completely mad.

Miranda stood upright and held her hands aloft, incanting a spell. Then she stepped forward. As she strode towards the demon she began to draw energies around her. The hair on the arms and necks of all on the wall stood up at the charged feel of it, as if lightning had been discharged nearby. Miranda held up her hands, palms outward, flexing her fingers, as her nails started lengthening, apparently growing into claws.

‘What is she …?’ asked Martin.

‘It’s a good trick. Watch,’ suggested Nakor.

The water demon ceased scanning the horizon for its summoner, and fixed its eyes on Miranda, as she strode towards him. Here was something he definitely recognized. The shape was alien, but the scent and the power exuding from it were familiar. Another demon approached and not of the water kind.

‘He’s big, but his kind are stupid,’ said Nakor from the wall. ‘He doesn’t know where he is or why he’s here, but he’s forgotten anything else now that he has someone to fight.’

‘He’s still five times bigger than she is!’ said Brendan.

‘Watch,’ said Nakor. ‘She’s smaller, but she’s a lot smarter, and she has lots of tricks.’

As he said that, Miranda leapt upward and in an impossible arc sped through the air straight at the water demon’s throat. She landed and seemed to dig in with both hands and feet, ripping and tearing and even bringing her teeth to bear.

The blow shocked the demon, who staggered backward a few steps, almost losing his balance. He bellowed as he began pummelling his smaller opponent.

‘Once she digs in, she’s like a bulldog,’ said Nakor.

At last the dim-witted monster got one hand completely around one of Miranda’s arms and yanked hard. He dislodged her claws and sent a fountain of blood spurting across the water and the quay beyond. Then he used his other hand to pull her away, and before she could grab his hand, he flung her into the stones of the street where she slid all the way to the gate, striking it hard enough to be felt by those above it.

‘Gods!’ exclaimed Martin. ‘He’s killed her!’

‘I don’t think so,’ said Nakor with a grin. ‘She is very tough, and has some tricks, remember?’

The water creature hesitated, bringing his hand up to the wound Miranda had caused in his neck. He touched it, winced in pain, and brought away blood-covered fingers. He sniffed at them, looked at them, then bellowed again in rage.

Astonishingly to those watching from above, Miranda stood up, took two steps, then started a run at the water demon. With a sudden jump, she flew through the air at the monster for the second time.

Nakor said, ‘This may take a while.’

Martin replied, ‘I don’t know if we have a while. Look.’

The Keshians on the ridge of the western road were now moving forward in orderly fashion, while the longboats were moving in a long arc which would land them on the south-east shore, next to the road.

‘How are they doing that?’ asked Martin, indicating the boats. Each was unmanned by rowers, somehow moving without apparent means.

Brendan pointed to the rear of the lead boat and said, ‘Those frog-things I told you about!’

Martin couldn’t make out specific features as they were splashing wildly, but took his brother’s word for it. All he could see was a splashing at the rear of every boat as if someone was in the water pushing it along.

‘Archers!’ shouted Martin. ‘One man in three over to the south-east wall!’ He motioned for George Bolton. ‘Take charge of the other wall. Do not fire until the Keshians get into range, then give them everything you’ve got!’

Bolton saluted, turned and headed after the archers making their way to the far wall. He knew as well as Martin that if the Keshians got a foothold on the south-eastern road and could attack the eastern gate, Martin would be unable to defend both that and the main gate.

Nakor rubbed his chin and his expression was thoughtful as watched Miranda tearing at the now-enraged water demon. She was far more powerful than her present state suggested, Nakor knew, and could take a lot of punishment before her demon-magic defences gave way. Yet there was always the chance something could go wrong, leaving her helpless before the behemoth. Moreover, in less than two minutes the first Keshians would be ashore and there was no telling what might happen after that. They obviously had more than one magic-user with them, probably more than the four who were killed in the inn. Someone had to remain on the distant shore, or in one of the boats in the rear, directing those water creatures in the pushing of the boats. Moreover, Nakor was now convinced the boats had departed just down the coast and had remained undetected due to a shrouding magic of some sort, a spell of blending or invisibility that allowed the boats to appear suddenly.

Then his face split into a grin. ‘I have a wonderful idea!’

‘I would welcome that,’ said Martin.

Nakor turned to a boy holding a flaming brand next to a bucket of oil. ‘Give me that torch,’ he said, grinning maniacally. If the defenders reached the gate, they were going to be met with flaming death from the wall above.

The boy handed over the torch.

Before Martin could frame any sort of question, Nakor leapt up into the crenel and dropped over the wall. Martin, Brendan and the others who could leaned out to see the small man land on his feet with east.

‘How do they do that?’ asked Martin of his brother.

‘I have no idea,’ replied Brendan.

Nakor ran to where Miranda and the water demon battled. Shouting at the water demon, Nakor managed to get close enough to burn his legs with the torch.

The monster howled in rage and pain. Throwing Miranda hard against the city wall for a second time, he turned his full attention on the pesky little man with the torch. Nakor leapt aside deftly as the water demon raised a massive foot out of the harbour, water cascading off it in streams. To Miranda Nakor shouted, ‘Stay where you are! I have an idea! Find the last magic-user!’

The water demon lifted the other leg out of the water. Now he was fully on the land.

Miranda slowly stood up, holding up her hand to indicate she understood.

Nakor darted in and thrust the burning brand hard against the creature’s leg. It howled, lifting a massive foot to crush him, but he leapt nimbly to one side, darted in, burned the creature a second time, then turned and ran.

Nakor wove a course up the hill, diving to his left, then his right, occasionally stopping long enough to dart back and smack the water demon with his torch. The demon was surprisingly quick for its size, but Nakor was always just out of reach.

Suddenly the air was filled with arrows as the Keshian commander on the hill realized what Nakor was attempting. Whoever was supposed to be controlling this monster obviously was not doing so, and it posed a threat to his own forces.

Nakor seemed able to dance between falling feathered shafts, and when one did strike, it bounced off, as if striking an invisible shield. His shrieks of delight seemed only to further infuriate the water demon who redoubled his efforts to get his claws on the maddening little man.

With a whoop of naked glee, Nakor turned and ran straight towards the waiting Keshian army.

‘He’s insane!’ said Martin.

Calis, who had known Nakor for years said, ‘That’s hardly a unique opinion, yet I’ve seen him do madder things.’

Brendan looked at the elf prince and said, ‘Madder than this?’

‘He once annoyed an invading group of magicians so much they nearly burned down half a city trying to blast him with fire bolts.’ He shook his head and said, ‘There is so much more to that little man than any of us will ever know.’

Brendan glanced down and saw Miranda had returned to her feet. At the same time, she looked up and pointed towards the far south-east corner of the harbour-side, the point where Brendan and Ned Pevy had launched their boat. Brendan waved back to show he understood. He turned to his brother. ‘The Keshians are turning to come ashore, over there.’ He pointed to the narrow stretch of burned-out quay before the rocks that separated the quay from the distant beach. ‘It’s a bottleneck!’

Martin took only a moment, then said, ‘We don’t wait at the wall! I want you to take every man who can ride, especially bowmen, and set up a welcome for our Keshian guests. If a boot touches the stones, I want the man dead before he takes a second step!’

Brendan was off as fast as he could, calling for horsemen to join him. A good thirty men left the wall with him, and Martin did a quick reassessment of his position. So far he’d lost no one and the Keshian battle plan was completely confounded. Now it was clear that the monster was supposed to have battered the door down at the south-west corner of the city, opening the way for the Keshians to charge downhill from the west, while another force would assault the eastern gate after they had gained the shore by boat.

Martin saw Bethany and Lily standing nearby and pushed aside a sudden urge to order them off the wall. He knew it would be a waste of time and energy arguing with the headstrong daughter of the Earl of Carse, and while he might succeed with Lily, as long as Bethany refused to yield ground, he assumed Lily would hold as well. He said, ‘You two, make yourself useful and go over there.’ He pointed to the south-eastern corner of the main wall. ‘If Brendan and his troops are forced to withdraw, provide cover fire for them.’

Bethany studied his face for a moment as if weighing whether he was placing her out of harm’s way or giving her an important task. She nodded once then led Lily to the far corner of the wall.

Martin turned his attention back to the struggle outside.

Miranda shook off the last vestiges of shock. She could use much of her magic skill to create some mystic armour, but that still didn’t prevent such a massive impact from affecting her. She glanced to her right and saw Nakor’s mad dash into the Keshian line and for a brief moment, both aspects of her being, Child and Miranda, marvelled at the seemingly incomprehensible behaviour of that little gambler. Yet the part of her that was Miranda knew that if there was ever a being for whom the phrase ‘Method to his madness’ was justified, it was Nakor.

She looked to where the Keshian boats were making ready to come ashore. Then she turned her attention farther to her left and almost out of sight from her vantage point, she glimpsed a company of riders approaching. She took a few steps away from the wall and saw young Brendan forming up his horse archers, ready to greet the Keshian marines as they came ashore.

A strange but familiar tugging at the corner of her mind made itself felt and for an instant she experienced an odd confusion, unsure if it was Child or Miranda who recognized this call. At last the part of her that was Child realized what it was.

The lesser water demons, the little frog-headed creatures that had been summoned to dig out their massive brother, were now pushing the boats towards shore, and calling out, asking for guidance.

Miranda considered the simplicity of it all. At first she had wondered why those Keshian demon summoners had taken up residence in the tavern. Not the how of it, because what passed for security in the city was a joke; the boys from Crydee might be earnest and brave, but they were hardly experienced, and there was no one in the city to look after details. So the four Keshian spell-casters had simply come in with the refugees from the west, no doubt. No, how they got in wasn’t the question, but rather why.

Now she understood. It was so very simple. The demon summoner or summoners would have placed themselves at risk trying to observe and control the huge water demon, let alone this herd of small ones. It was much easier to sit in the tavern, waiting until some mystic signal indicated the demons were ready, then only one simple command was needed: come to me! With an additional instruction to destroy anything that got between the demon and the summoners. Had the summoners lived, the massive demon would have certainly had the gate down by now and in the confusion that would have ensued the Keshian Demon Master would have found a place inside the city to orchestrate the landing. With the summoners’ deaths, the demons had stopped with the last command given. The massive water demon had tried to answer its last summoning, but the battle with Miranda and Nakor’s had distracted it from that command and now its rage had brought it full into the Keshian army to the north.

With an evil grin matching Nakor’s most malicious expression, Miranda decided what to do. As Child she had commanded demons much more powerful than these frog-creatures. While they might be dangerous as a group, alone each was pitifully weak, both physically and mentally. She merely sent out her own command and suddenly chaos erupted near the shore.

Rather than pushing the boats in to the shore, now the small demons were swarming them, leaping out of the water to attack the unprepared Keshian soldiers. Many were knocked out of their boats to be pulled down below the surface by the weight of their armour.

Brendan saw his opportunity and shouted, ‘Wait! Pick out your targets, then kill any Keshian who sets foot on Kingdom soil. Do not waste arrows on those in the boats!’

A few Keshians in the nearest boats managed to leap into the shallows, only to be met by a fusillade of arrows. Several were missed entirely but were pulled down from behind by the little water demons. Immediately sensing he was wasting arrows, Brendan shouted, ‘Cease!’

A few of the less experienced youngsters fired again until Brendan’s commands registered. Then the defenders stood silently and watched as horror unfolded.

Some of the Keshians in the boats were being torn apart by claws and fangs, some of the demons pausing to eat human flesh. Around every boat was a slick of blood and the water that lapped against the quayside was a frothy pink. Bubbles were still rising where men were gasping in vain for their last breath while bodies floated everywhere.

Brendan looked over to where Miranda stood and saw her indicate with one curt motion of her head that he should return within the city walls and safety. Feeling no inclination to argue with her, he shouted, ‘Back inside!’

Without one defender sustaining an injury, half the assault on the Kingdom city of Ylith had been utterly obliterated.

Miranda turned to see how Nakor was doing with the other half. Something in the distance was causing her sense of danger to increase and she reached out mentally and sought out the source. Suddenly recognition hit her like a blast of icy water and she was off and running after Nakor and the demon, praying she might reach them in time to save the little man’s life. Again.

Nakor howled with glee as he rolled across the ground, ducking under the demon’s clawed hands by inches. The Keshian cavalry was providing additional amusement for him as their horses were bucking, running in circles and generally ignoring their riders as they attempted to get as far away from the demon as they could. It didn’t help the situation that the frustrated demon had managed to crush two animals who had shrieked in panic; that, along with the smell of horse blood, had pushed most of the mounts far beyond their otherwise solid battle training.

The Keshian field commander was trying to restore order, but at least a hundred of his footmen had followed the horses’ example and were turning west and fleeing back over the rise towards Crydee. His officers were riding around as best they could trying to maintain order, despite their own mounts’ increasingly balky behaviour.

Nakor was starting to think this time he might have overextended himself, for while he was still finding the current situation hilarious, he could feel a strange and dangerous sensation beginning to manifest itself close at hand. Sparing what little attention he could from the general mayhem on all sides, he saw what looked to be a clutch of officers standing atop a nearby hill, before a proud array of Keshian battle standards and signal flags. In their midst was what obviously appeared to be a magician.

Nakor desperately hoped he was not another demon summoner, for if he was he might quickly see through Nakor’s guise and discover the essence of Belog beneath the human exterior; should that occur, Nakor would be in for a terrible battle. He had no doubt that with what he had learned from Nakor’s memories and the power he had gained travelling with Child he could resist all the but most powerful Demon Masters, but while he might best the man face to face, the attention such a confrontation would require would certainly leave him vulnerable to attack from other quarters.

And with a massive water demon and half the Keshian army attempting to kill him, that would prove a problem that even Nakor’s legendary luck and cunning couldn’t overcome.

Still, always trying to find a way out of seemingly impossible situations, he decided to see how well Keshian officers did in confronting a massive water demon. He dodged as he felt more than saw a blow coming from his left, and rolled on the grass, holding what was left of the burning torch high. He knew he’d stand a better chance of surviving if he threw it away but the fire seemed to be the only thing that kept the demon from chasing after him rather than stopping to randomly kill and eat horses and riders.

Nakor saw the officers draw their weapons when he started running toward them, and the magician began an incantation. Nakor wasn’t particular eager to find out what sort of magic the man was attempting; a protective shell or something along those lines would only be annoying to the demon, but might put Nakor at a disadvantage, while any sort of seriously destructive spell could end his existence in seconds. Nakor had a limited supply of magical tricks at his disposal — right now all his demonic energies were directed to speed, extended senses to anticipate any blows headed his way, and a slight armour magic that made his skin and clothing as tough as plate armour — but he knew that a well-placed blast of magic energy could light him up like a holiday bonfire.

Moreover, it appeared that the magician had taken note of Nakor’s antics and had judged correctly that as long as he was around, the water demon would follow him, and if he ended Nakor’s existence first, then the demon might prove more tractable.

A sizzling bolt of energy, blindingly bright, shot over Nakor’s head as he tried to burrow into the dirt, singing his hair and leaving the stench of lightning in the air. A monstrous howl of pain and rage cut through the air and shook the ground where he lay.

As much as Nakor would have loved to have rolled over and observed what had just happened, his instincts forced him to leap to his right, then suddenly to his left, tuck and roll across the ground, then turn and leap back in the opposite direction.

He caught a quick glimpse of the water demon charging up the hill, one leg half-dragged behind him as he lunged towards the knot of warriors and the lone magician on top of the hill. Nakor had judged rightly: the energy blast meant to end his existence had struck the demon instead. If he wasn’t trying too hard to stay alive, he would have found the situation hilarious. But not for long, as a Keshian soldier charged at him, chopping his blade through the air.

Without thought, Nakor dropped the torch and reached up to seize the man’s sword arm. The soldier cried out in pain as Nakor squeezed his wrist, shattering it. With a single push he sent the man flying five feet back, despite his heavy armoured breastplate and helm.

Nakor paused for a second to catch his breath and shook his head ruefully. He had been thinking so much like Nakor, he had almost forgotten he wasn’t the little bandy-legged gambler, but was really a demon with all the strength and toughness a demon possessed. And as it was obvious that the magician not too far away was not a demon-summoner, Nakor decided it was time for more direct action.

Another solider ran towards him as the water demon began to wreak havoc on the officers and those soldiers desperately trying to defend them. Nakor waited until the Keshian swordsman swung and with cat-like reflexes grabbed his arm and broke it as a child would a twig. The man fell to the ground shrieking as Nakor turned away. He had spent his entire existence as the demon Belog using all his energy for intellect. And yet as he had travelled with Child through the demon realm he had gained prodigious physical strength, even if he wasn’t used to employing it. He decided now was the time to use that raw strength.

A third warrior started moving towards him when suddenly another figure raced in from Nakor’s right, blowing over the swordsman completely. Miranda turned and said, ‘Are you all right?’

Nakor laughed. ‘I’m strong!’

‘Yes,’ said Miranda. ‘But you’re also foolish. You had no idea what type of magic you were about to face.’

‘Let’s go find out.’

‘I want him alive if we can manage it.’

Nakor jumped in a majestic arc over the cluster of warriors attempting to stop the water demon.

That massive creature was starting to show the effects of being away from the nurturing water and dealing with huge expenditures of energy and multiple wounds. Miranda wasn’t concerned with that, for she knew that the creature would die, returning to the demon realm from where it had come before it could threaten the city again.

She had found what she had sought, the magician who had tried to blast Nakor. He was holding his robes up so as not to trip on them, running down the hill away from the fight. He would have been comic save for two things: first, he had just tried to help kill a great number of people and while Child found nothing remotely distasteful in that, Miranda did. With each passing day, she was becoming more Miranda and less Child. Secondly, Miranda recognized the magician and that discovery filled her with both disappointment and anger.

She could run like a gazelle, and she had discovered she could leap nearly a hundred yards, so in one jump and a sprint, she was behind the man. She reached out and grabbed him by the back of his robe then stopped, letting him almost break his own neck when he came to an unexpected and sudden stop.

Turning, he drew back his right hand and Miranda could feel the magic form. Knowing instantly what he was doing, she slapped him hard across the face before he could finish his conjuration, breaking his concentration and causing his eyes to brim with tears.

‘Hello, Akesh,’ she said in tones venomous. ‘It’s been a while.’

The Keshian-born magician was stunned and shocked. ‘Miranda!’ he blurted. ‘But-’

‘I know,’ she interrupted. ‘Dead. Apparently, not as dead as people thought.’

‘But-’

‘Silence,’ she said, ‘or I will happily knock you unconscious. We have much to discuss.’

She didn’t release her grip on his robe, but turned to see the water demon faltering as it was now surrounded by archers. In its weakened state its already meagre intelligence was pushed to the limit, and it stood uncertain of which way to attack.

Nakor had found a clear path down the hill and he trotted to where Miranda stood holding the magician. When he got near he grinned and said delightedly, ‘Akesh! So you were the one trying to kill me!’

‘I could scarcely believe my eyes when I saw you out there,’ said the Keshian magician. ‘I thought it had to be another madman. Besides-’

‘I know,’ interrupted Nakor. ‘You thought we were both dead.’

‘Let’s go somewhere we can talk,’ said Miranda.

Nakor turned to take in the scene. ‘The demon is almost done, and if I were the Keshian commander, I’d be withdrawing.’ He pointed to the north. ‘We can go that way until we find the entrance to the keep on that high bluff over there.’ He waved in the general direction of the old castle overlooking the city. ‘And then we can go up, and back down to the city.’

‘That’s a long walk,’ said Miranda.

‘Or we can go sit over there in that copse of trees and wait for the Keshians to leave, then walk back down to the city, that way,’ said the grinning little man, pointing over his shoulder to the city.

‘Better idea,’ said Miranda. Looking at the magician she had captured she said, ‘I can rip your head from your shoulders before you can conjure, and that is no idle boast. So, behave yourself and you may survive to apologize to Pug for taking sides in this war and betraying the Conclave. He may let you live.’

The magician said nothing, but his expression reassured Miranda and Nakor he was unlikely to try to escape or otherwise cause grief, and the three started walking over to a stand of trees where they could rest until the Keshian army had withdrawn. Even by the time they reached the trees, the sounds of battle and the roars of the water demon were diminishing.

Miranda said to Nakor, ‘Keep an eye on things until we have a clear path back to the city. And please resist the temptation to do something amusing.’

Nakor nodded, attempting to look serious but failing. ‘I’ll try.’

To the magician named Akesh, she said, ‘Sit and rest. We will likely be here for a while, and while we’re here, you can begin by telling me how you came to be serving as a Keshian lap-dog when you took an oath at the Academy to stay apart from conflicts between nations as well as your oath to the Conclave.’

The magician looked at Miranda sullenly. He might not know what she was capable of in this form, but he knew her from her human incarnation; and after Pug and their son, Magnus, she might very well be the most powerful magician in the world. And Nakor, despite his reputation as something of a joker and card cheat, was also counted a very dangerous opponent.

Akesh took a deep breath, then began to speak.