Satan's Gambit (The Barrier War Book 3) (53 page)

- 4 -

When Shadow
Company emerged from the river, they were met with an awed silence. At first,
Danner thought it was a sort of tribute to the task they’d just completed. He
wiped at his eyes and accepted a towel thrust his direction without really
seeing who had offered it.

Danner dried his
face and got most of the water out of his hair, then looked up to see who was
still standing directly in front of him. Gray skin and an impudent smile gave
him a moment of pause before recognition finally dawned on him.

“Reporting for
duty, sir,” Caret said with a smile as he and the other recently deceased
members of Shadow Company rejoined their platoons.

The First and Second centuries of the Age of Lords saw
a sudden, violent shift in the dissemination of world religions. Where men of
all races had once worshiped diverse pantheons of gods and goddesses, the
Epiphany introduced a monotheistic faith that spread with both religious zeal
and fanatical violence. By the turn of the Third Century, the other “pagan”
religions had been all but eradicated.

       
- Tolin
jo’Gerran,

“A History of Religion” (501 AL)

- 1 -

Brad hung his
head as his squad left the training field. Sympathetic hands clapped him on the
shoulder and a few people murmured words of encouragement, but their
pleasantries were drowned out by words of scorn and mocking laughter that only
Brad could hear.

You were so
ready to go off and fight, thinking you were the next great warrior in the
family. Look at you!

The son of
Garet jo’Meerkit, humbled again. Shame.

Failure.

Child.

Brad’s own
doubts and feelings of inadequacy hammered at him relentlessly and gave him
little room for comfort. Another day of futile effort and careless mistakes
left him feeling low and dejected, and assurances that he was gaining in skill
were brushed off as platitudes from his instructors trying to make him feel
better.

His already slow
steps faltered and stopped as Brad found himself alone. No other person –
living, dead, or immortal – was in sight, and for a brief moment Brad
considered just walking away and leaving. Return home to the mortal world and
disappear, a failure who could be forgotten by a family of warriors.

Such morbid
thoughts were brief, however, and he brushed them away with an angry shake of
his head.

No, damn it!
I came here to fight, and I started training so I could make my father proud. I
am a son of Garet jo’Meerkit, and I will not quit!

Brad’s jaw
firmed as he repeated his final thought over and over again in his head like a
mantra.

I am a son of
Garet jo’Meerkit, and I will not quit!

A whisper of
doubt muttered,
“Failure”
but Brad forced himself not to heed its voice.
He started forward once again, but halted almost immediately as he heard his
name called. Brad turned and saw Anolla running toward him, a smile on her
face.

Of course
she’s smiling.
She
is doing very well under her instructors. No, stop
it!

“What’s up,
‘Nola?” he called out.

“I just heard
from Gerard, and Shadow Company came back safely,” she said as soon as she was
within normal speaking distance. Her face was flushed from the run, but she was
barely breathing heavy. The new leather armor she wore was a little too large
for her and hid most of her figure, but Brad thought that was just as well,
since no one in this camp needed to be checking out his twin sister’s body.

San, all of
the men in this camp are dead anyway!
He thought to himself with a macabre
chuckle.

“Garnet’s okay?”
Brad asked. “And Flasch, too, I guess?”

“They’re both
fine,” Anolla replied. “There were a lot of injuries and they lost a few men
but, Brad, they destroyed Arthryx the Bender! The demon who twists all those
poor souls trapped in Hell, he’s dead, and it was Garnet who delivered the
killing blow.”

Brad grinned at
her enthusiasm.

Garnet, the
successful warrior, the true son of Garet jo’Meerkit
. He suppressed his
moody thoughts without changing his expression, and soon enough his smile was
genuine once more.

“Glad to hear
they’re both okay,” Brad said. “I hope they’re not too under-manned.”

Anolla actually
shivered.

“That’s the
creepy part, Brad,” she said, rubbing down goosebumps on her exposed forearms.
“This is Heaven, so all the men who died were waiting for them when they got
back. Or at least their souls were waiting, ready to get back with the company
and keep fighting.”

Brad stared at
her a moment while this sunk in. A moment later, he too felt the flesh on his
arms ripple in a sudden chill.

“Yeah, exactly,”
Anolla said, noting his reaction.

A shadow swept
past them on the ground, and they looked up as a flight of angels flew
overhead. Each of the immortals carried a paladin in their arms, and they sped
by so quickly they were out of sight in less than a minute.

“What do you
think they’re doing?” Brad asked, happy to change the subject.

“I don’t know,
but I overheard some of my instructors talking about a special group of
paladins Gerard was working with,” his sister said, still staring after the
now-vanished flight of angels. “Apparently, just about all of the paladins
who’re training us, alive or dead, are taking turns experimenting with Gerard’s
latest ideas.”

“No idea what
they are, though?” Brad asked hopefully. Maybe he could start learning now so
he could get a head-start if it was something he’d have to know later.

Anolla shook her
head.

“I just know I
see a lot of angels carrying paladins, and a lot of paladins falling out of the
sky with those cloaks,” she said. “They do that anyway, though, so I’m not sure
what’s going on.”

Brad frowned,
then shrugged. The twins started walking back toward the nearest river, the
Mustion, so they could wash up. There was no dirt or dust in Heaven, but they
still had to rinse the dried sweat from their bodies. It seemed strange washing
in a river that seemed made entirely of music, but they had quickly learned to
accept such things. You could touch it, it felt wet, and it got you clean –
that was enough.

Of course, Brad
and Anolla were the only two living people undergoing training, and so they
were the only ones who suffered from the minor inconvenience of sweat. Such a
little detail, but it was mildly disconcerting for Brad to look around after a
long day of grueling exercise and see that his was the only clothing that bore
sweat stains. Much like washing himself in a river of music and having his
shadow go a different direction than his sister’s, however, it was just
something to which he slowly grew accustomed.

 “Well, if
it’s important, we’ll find out later,” he reasoned. “Until then, I’ve got more
than enough to occupy my time without looking for more to distract me.”

Weakling
.

- 2 -

The assembled demons
glanced up as a shadow fell across the mound of gray earth that divided them
into two halves. A human figure stood in front of a sheet of fire that hung
like a banner in the air behind him. On one side of the mound were several of
the original demon princes of Hell, creatures who had come into existence
already more powerful than their brethren and who had immediately seized
control over their weaker kin.

Beelzebub, who
spoke with a voice like the buzzing of flies and whose flesh churned constantly
as though hundreds of thousands of insects crawled unceasingly beneath the
surface.

Iblis, a
humanoid demon composed of fire who swam in the Dena-
Fol
[28]
as if it were a lover’s embrace.

Khamuel, the
self-styled Dark Angel, one of the only demons to maintain a human-like
appearance such as the angels did. Khamuel’s six ebony wings were feathered
like an angel’s and as dark as his eyes and hair. He wore pristine white robes
in mockery of their eternal enemies.

Azazel and Succubus,
twin human-like demons with pale blue flesh and black, leathery wings who
stayed naked and toyed with the souls of the damned and seduced them before
inflicting searing tortures that produced screams heard halfway across the vast
city Dis. The demonic couple hosted orgies of blood and delighted in tormenting
the damned with sex almost as much as they enjoyed torturing and pleasing each
other. It was said their short black horns grew longer when engaged in their
diversions.

Second in
strength only to Mephistopheles and Daella, these were among the most powerful
demons who had accompanied the demonic horde into Heaven. Their ranks had once
been greater, but the Great Schism had destroyed several others, including
Nisroc, Gramuel, and Mammon, all three of whom had once stood above the demons
gathered now.

Across the
greasy mound were demons who were equal in power, if later come into their own.
These were demon lords who began their existence as mindless bits of
āyus
,
without thought or power of their own. The demon lords gained strength over the
eons until they were a match for the more powerful princes, and finally they
were acknowledged as equals.

Aesthma, a
former childris and the only one of his kind to gain an identity and will of
his own before the Great Schism. The insectoid demon’s power waxed quickly, and
he was the first of the demon lords to force his way into the ranks of Hell’s
elite.

Lotan, who had
taken the form of a small seven-headed dragon so long ago that none remembered
what type of demon he had been originally. Three of his heads had been cut off
by Mikal during the Great Schism – the stumps seared with holy fire – and the
demon had been unable to recreate them ever since. Lotan towered over the rest
of them, more than twice as tall as a human, but among such a company, physical
size meant little.

Molekh, a
bull-headed drolkul whose first appearance on Lokka during the Merging War had
given rise to the myth of the minotaur that still persisted in some regions of
the world. His dense fur was a muddy red in color, and a fire could be seen
burning within him whenever he spoke.

Nekushtan, one
of the most cunning and devious of all demons, who of all of them was created
unique but still mindless. The demon lord came into being as a winged, bronze-scaled
serpent no larger than a man was tall, and for eons he was ignored by the other
immortals as a freak.
stumps seared
with holy fire, and the demon had been unable t
Eking out an existence by
prowling the limits of Pleroma, Nekushtan preyed on demons and angels alike
with impunity until the Great Schism forced him into permanent residence in
Hell, where he finally emerged from obscurity and pledged his service to
Mephistopheles. He was now fifty feet long and at least a foot in diameter with
a wingspan of over twenty feet.

Like the demon
princes, there were demon lords aplenty who were no longer in existence.
Asmodeus, Lilith, and Bau were known to have fallen during the Great Schism,
and no one had seen the mountainous Chernobog since the final days of the
Merging War. Most recently Min, Ran, and Sal – The Three – had been slain in
the mortal world by the holy paladins. Other demon lords and princes remained
in Hell, but these had been chosen by the King of Hell to assist in the
destruction of Heaven, and they reveled in their fortune.

“Of course,
there is one of your own who is missing today, one who was recently destroyed
at the hands of our enemies,” said the one member of the assemblage who was
neither demon lord nor prince, but who currently lorded authority over all of
them. The chosen commander of Hell’s armies, the right hand of Mephistopheles,
a damned soul who could at any time lose favor and find himself under the claws
of those he now scolded.

I was chosen.
Let them fear me!

Malith glared at
the assembled demons, blithely ignoring the looks of hatred and unholy lust
that were directed at him. So long as he continued to curry the favor of
Mephistopheles, none here could touch him. So long as he handed his master the
Throne of God, he could grind the most powerful of demons under his heel with
impunity. For Malith, the threat of vengeance was a nuisance, or at worst just
one more reason for him to succeed.

“Arthryx has
been destroyed, as we all know, thanks to his own poor planning and some unfortunate
luck on the part of the angels and paladins,” Malith said grimly. “Let it be a
warning to all of you what can happen, even now when we are so near our moment
of victory. Fortunately, he was able to complete most of the creations I
required for the days ahead, and those he did not I can do without. For your
purposes, the plan remains unchanged.”

Malith waved his
hand over the sickly gray mound and it immediately flattened. Lines and symbols
sank into the surface, detailing a map of some part of Heaven. A withered demon
in the corner controlled the map, reading Malith’s intentions by tuning in to
his thoughts. It galled Malith that what seemed like such a trivial power, by
demonic standards, was beyond him and required the use of a pathetic gremlin, a
creature among the lowest of the demonic hierarchy.

“Thanks to the
cunning of Nekushtan and the scouts provided by Arthryx, we’ve located and
tracked patterns of movement in the Heavenly Host that pinpoint what I believe
to be the location of their command center, where the demon Kaelus…”

Harsh snarls and
furious shouts drowned out Malith’s voice for a moment as the demons vehemently
protested his naming Kaelus as one of their own.