The Heavenly Host (Demons of Astlan Book 2) (84 page)

DOF+10

Early Morning (Murgatroy)

Jenn gripped the carpet handles tightly as the crazed pilot dive-bombed the ground at record speed. Her stomach was going to come up soon. This was not the sort of ride someone with a hangover enjoyed. She glanced over to see that Gastropé was not pale for a change; his face appeared quite green in the early morning fierdlight.

It really was not a good thing to get world-shaking bad news about the Forces Of Evil (FOE), as the alvar called their enemies, when one was drunk. It was even worse to be plunging into an exploratory mission while hungover.

After receiving Bastien’s news, the senior alvar and Trevin went into a private consultation and came back shortly to announce that they were returning to the Nimbus and leaving for Murgatroy at once. It was only about eighty leagues, so the Nimbus could be there shortly after dawn. Jenn had shaken her head last night, trying drunkenly to comprehend such insane speed.

A second messenger arrived shortly before they boarded the Nimbus, but there was not much news beyond what they had already learned. Thus, they left with no clue as to whether there still even was a Murgatroy. Based on the information she had heard, Jenn suspected there would be, but the alvar seemed very paranoid.

Their carpets came in for a landing outside of town, near a large encampment that Seamach identified as the wargtown. It took them very little time to disembark, as the aetós and dwarves came armed and ready for combat, and were quite skilled at carpet landings under hostile conditions.

Jenn was not seeing much in the way of hostile conditions. There seemed to be no real activity coming from the town. There seemed to be a few wargs moving about, but no sign of any orcs moving about.

“Where are all the orcs in the wargtown?” Maelen asked Seamach.

Seamach was staring at the town carefully. “I see some bodies littered in the streets, but no movement.”

“Surely the D’Orcs wouldn’t have slain orcs in a wargtown?” Trevin asked.

“You would think survivors from the city would have come out to bury them,” Elrose noted.

“Not if they slaughtered everyone in the city,” Captain Ehéarellis said. “It would not be unheard of.”

They all looked towards the gates. The walls of the town were wooden tree trunks knit together. The gates were shut tight and there appeared to be no sign of activity. “Well, it is shortly after dawn,” Jenn noted hopefully.

“What sort of town doesn’t open its gates at dawn?” Gastropé asked.

“One full of corpses,” Darowin said.

“I really hate to admit it, but the dwarf has a point,” Seamach noted grimly.

“Guardians: by land and air, standard approach to the wargtown,” Trevin commanded.

The dwarves quickly fell into formation, bringing up their shields and moving towards the town. The aetós took to the air in formation and headed toward the town as well.

Once the dwarves got within about two hundred feet, Darowin called back to them. “There seems to be a horrible ruckus going on.”

“Ruckus?” Maelen asked.

“It’s snoring!” Darowin shouted back a few minutes later.

Jenn could almost feel the tension ease palpably in the air as people’s shoulders relaxed. The aetós flew in and began inspecting more closely; the dwarves eased up and moved in as well. After a few minutes, Treyfoêr flew back with a report.

“It appears everyone in the wargtown is completely passed out. In place, not even in their beds or sleeping blankets. A few are, but most seem to have fallen off benches and stools and gone to sleep.” He shook his head. “The smell of stale glargh and piss is really bad. It almost masks the stench of the wargs.”

“Is it standard orc procedure to allow everyone to just pass out with no guards or fortifications?” Gastropé asked, indicating the openness of the town. Anyone could just walk up and come in, as the dwarves had just done. His brow furrowed. “We have soldiers marching through their tents, and still no one has woken up.”

“It is not standard, as far as I know,” Seamach said, also frowning. “Although they’ve been known to let their guard down at some very serious celebrations.”

“Hoy there!” came a voice from the direction of the town gates. They all looked in that direction to see the gates being pulled into their day positions. A man, apparently human, was walking towards them. “Don’t be pilfering the wargtown or there will be hell to pay!”

“We won’t be taking anything. We were simply investigating why there was no movement,” Trevin called back.

The man arrived shortly. He was wearing a rather tacky and stained town guard uniform and had not shaved in some time. “Aye, they all went on a bender yesterday afternoon and really never stopped until they all passed out. ‘Twas a real pain for the folks who wanted to reclaim their wargs and such. They made do, but I suspect there will be some reckoning of payments at some point.”

“Is this normal?” Trevin asked.

“Nah, most of them ain’t got the kind of money you need to get this drunk,” the guard said, shaking his head before spitting.

“So what was different this time?” Maelen asked.

The guard squinted. “Well, from what I gather from those who returned to town before the others passed out, there was this large blonde woman and her associates who came to hear the tales of the D’Orcs from the day before. ‘Course, they didn’t want to talk to a human, not until she whupped Meat Maker, but then she bought them glargh all afternoon and listened to their tales.”

“And then they passed out?” Elrose asked.

“Nah, that’s when a few did return and I learned what was up. But the rest, they kept drinking on their own coins, presumably. Once an orc is drunk, it’s hard for them to stop until either their glargh or money is gone. It’s either that or pass out.”

Seamach snorted and gave Captain Ehéarellis a knowing look.

“So the D’Orcs and orcs who came to town the other day —were they any trouble?” Trevin asked.

The guard shook his head. “Actually not. They were much better behaved and better organized than the majority of hunting parties coming through town. No drinkin’, no fights, no rowdiness or noise. They just bought what they needed and then left.”

“Left? Which direction did they go?” Maelen asked.

“As I heard it, they didn’t go any direction.” The guard pointed off east-southeast. “They came from there. They left through a big fire.”

“A big fire?” Seamach asked, puzzled.

“A hole in a giant bonfire they started,” the guard said.

“A portal to the Abyss,” Gastropé said. Jenn nodded in agreement. The two of them had been through more than enough of those things for a lifetime.

The guard shrugged, only knowing what he reported.

Elrose shook his head. “Well, the good news is that they didn’t cause any problems.”

“But what foul scheme have they cooked up?” Captain Ehéarellis said.

Trevin nodded. “I want my people to run some forensics on the town, the markets they visited. See if we can get any signs, perhaps residual signals that we can read.”

Elrose nodded. “That does seem prudent.”

“Maybe if we get lucky, they’ll come back,” Seamach said. Jenn and Gastropé gave the elf looks of disbelief.

~

“Great,” Darflow Skragnarth said hollowly.

“What?” Lesteroth Garflog asked his commander.

“That fellow there”—Darflow pointed down the hall to a fiend who seemed to be hightailing it out of the fortress—“has brought us new orders from our glorious Queen of Darkness.”

“Didn’t she just send orders last night for a recon job?” Lesteroth asked.

“She did.”

“And the new orders?”

“Full-on assault, eliminate all the D’Orcs and their new ruler,” Darflow said with a sigh.

“Seriously?” Lesteroth said in shock. He grabbed the missive from his commander’s grasp and scanned it. “Abyss! She is really serious this time,” Lesteroth said with a very surprised look on his face.

Darflow shrugged. “She is sending in reinforcements. Given that we only have about a thousand demons left, I am both shocked at her generosity and pleasantly surprised.”

“Agreed. Doom has twice our numbers, and now somebody is driving the pyrotechnics.” Lesteroth pointed out to the stormy, rumbling volcano. “If she is sending reinforcements, she must be serious this time.”

“So,” Darflow said, shrugging, “we are to wait for the reinforcements to arrive. I wonder what sort of reinforcements she is sending?”

“It had better be something serious if she wants to actually pull this off,” Lesteroth replied.

~

Hilda was enjoying a breakfast of fresh strawberries, muffins and a glass of orange juice and sparkling wine when a knock came at the door. Danyel rose to answer it. It had been a long night; first there was the meeting in Tierhallon, and then she had returned and spent until dawn listening to Ruiden’s firsthand account of the battle. Unfortunately, he had been buried in ice for some of the exciting parts. Fortunately, as a sword he relied on his extrasensory perceptions, which had given him a better vantage point than being stuck inside a giant ball of ice would normally allow.

“It seems oddly early for someone to be calling,” Hilda observed.

Danyel opened the door. From the angle, Hilda could not see who it was, but she did recognize the voice. This was most unusual!

“Ah, you must be the young Danyel I have heard so much about,” an old man’s voice said. It sounded different in mortal form, but was still recognizable.

“I am; and you are, sir?” Danyel was clearly puzzled.

“Ah, yes, iconography and statuary are not what they used to be.” Hilda detected gentle humor in the voice. “I am Beragamos Antidellas, and I am here to see the lady Hilda of Rivenrock.”

Danyel’s face went white; Hilda was afraid the poor lad might faint. Of course, it was not every day that the right hand of Tiernon appeared at one’s door. Danyel just stood there in shock, saying nothing.

“Might I come in?” Beragamos asked politely.

Danyel shook his head, trying to recover, and then bowed deeply. “My apologies, your archonship. No disrespect, I was simply overwhelmed!” He scrambled back, gesturing the archon to enter.

Hilda stood and went to retrieve a glass and plate for the archon. Beragamos smiled at her as he entered.

“Your Holiness, what a pleasant surprise. I hope,” Hilda said with a bright smile and a bit of concern in her voice. “We had not been expecting you!” She gestured for him to take a seat. “Ever,” she added more softly.

Ruiden came alert from where he had been resting and recovering mana in the corner. “Archon Beragamos!” the sword said, coming forward and bowing to the archon.

“Ah, you must be Ruiden, sword of Talarius,” Beragamos said nodding. “Forgive me for not shaking your hand, but I just grew these fingers and I’d like to keep them a bit longer!” The archon chuckled.

Ruiden’s sense of humor was not particularly great. “I can sheath my finger blades; however, etiquette demands that I bow rather than shake hands.”

“Ah, yes.” Beragamos’s eyes twinkled. “I hear you had a very exciting day yesterday?”

If a sword could frown, Ruiden would have been doing so. “A rather frustrating and unsuccessful day. I was not able to question Exador.” Ruiden shook his head. “I was encased in ice when the portal to the Abyss opened. This was very unfortunate.”

Beragamos looked slightly puzzled. “Because you were unable to prevent Exador from escaping?”

Ruiden tilted his head in surprise at Beragamos. “No. If I had been able to move, I could have dived through the portal.”

“Why would you want to dive into the Abyss?” Hilda asked shocked.

“Talarius is in the Abyss,” Ruiden explained as if it was obvious. “Once in the Abyss, I should be able to follow my links to him and free him.”

“Ahh,” Beragamos said, slightly surprised. “That is admirable loyalty.” He glanced at Hilda, who simply shrugged. The sword was driven.

“Can I get you some orange juice and sparkling wine? Or I have evenberry,” Hilda offered, changing the subject.

“Why, thank you, my dear! I’ll drink what you are having,” the archon said, sitting down. “I think I need to be more careful when incarnating. I really only wanted the look, not the associated infirmities of a body as old as I wanted to appear. I think it must be a function of how old one feels inside.” He shook his head, his brilliant white bangs shaking slightly. “By the way, your assessment of the ward’s effect on archons was fairly accurate. That is why I had to incarnate a new, mortal body so I could get through the wards.” He sighed. “The mana expenditure is quite high for physically incarnating like this. Doing this on a large scale for multiple archons would be expensive and require considerable effort.”

Hilda poured him sparkling wine and then some orange juice and gestured to the fruit and muffins. “To what do we owe this honor?”

Beragamos simply smiled and held up one finger. He closed his eyes for a second and brilliant golden light suddenly limned the edges of the room before fading to a level only saintly sight could see. “Just to be on the safe side, I have shielded these quarters for our privacy.”