The Complete Twilight Reign Ebook Collection (307 page)

The daemon regarded Ruhen for a long while as its fellows hissed and gnashed their teeth. ‘Give us tribute and worship and we will let you live.’ Its voice was a threatening growl, and sounded like random noises that just happened to form human words.

‘No tribute,’ Ruhen said plainly, ‘no worship. This is a place of peace. Your kind are not welcome here.’

‘What are you to make such demands?’ the daemon barked, the anger in its voice echoed by the dozens at its side.

The clamour of their howls hammered at Ilumene’s ears so intensely that for a moment he wondered if he’d missed Ruhen’s reply. Then he realised the child had said nothing; he was waiting patiently for the chance to speak. Inexplicably, the daemons stayed where they were, and eventually they quietened. Peness’ daemon-guide had claimed the warband was thirsty for flesh and blood, that nothing would stop or slow them until they were sated, yet not only had they failed to attack, but they stood well back of the little boy and his single protector.

‘My name is Ruhen,’ he said, ‘and your death stands in my shadow.’

To emphasis the point Ilumene raised his sword, but he was one against dozens.

The daemons started to advance on them, their jaws open and weapons held ready.

‘The Circle City is under my protection,’ Ruhen continued, as if oblivious to the danger closing on him. ‘I will not allow you to harm its people.’

When the leader of the daemons only snarled and increased its pace, Ruhen made a small, dismissive gesture with his hands. ‘So be it,’ he murmured.

From their hiding-places the Harlequins burst up to attack, their white masks shockingly bright in the deepening gloom. They moved as one, converging on the daemons in seconds, weapons already moving for the kill. Ilumene charged the dog-legged daemon with a yell, reaching it at the same moment as a young warrior whose slender sword caught the daemon’s raised left arm.

Ilumene ignored a blow from the daemon’s axe on his shield, instead pushing inside its guard and smashing up at its dog-muzzle with the pommel of his sword. The blow snapped its head back and Ilumene wasted no time in chopping down into the daemon’s arm. He followed it up with a thrust into its gut and the daemon vanished just as the blow struck. The Harlequin had already passed onto the next daemon, striking with blinding speed. The Harlequins moved in a complex dance, each one aware of where the others were, each one constantly in motion.

Ilumene held back, aware his own style, however effective on a battlefield, could not fit into that dance. He marvelled at the bloody ballet being executed before him as eighty Harlequins, a slim sword in each hand, slashed and pirouetted their way through the mass of lumbering beasts in concentrated silence, always moving, each step fluidly transforming into the next lethal strike. Some fell, unable to avoid the wild sweeps of the huge daemonic weapons, but the majority continued in their silent dance. The daemons were now striking out in wild, uncontrolled frenzy. Blows were coming from all quarters, but none of the Harlequins stayed still long enough for the daemons to focus: it was impossible to find one foe to face before that was replaced by another, identical and just as deadly, moving in from a completely different direction.

One monster raised itself up on its hind legs and flexed great talons, ready to swipe down at whatever stood before it, only to have a dozen long cuts appear, circling its belly. A black-clad Harlequin appeared quite suddenly before it, momentarily stepping out of the main dance and into a solo. The daemon roared like a bear, but even before it smashed its taloned paws down on Venn, half a dozen more cuts had been torn through its shaggy hide. Venn dodged the claws with ease and slashed again at the daemon’s flank, each strike cutting to the bone amidst a shower of ichor, then he rammed the point of one sword into the leg-joint and sliced it away entirely.

That done, Venn returned to the dance and vanished into the storm of swords, even as another Harlequin appeared in front of the daemon and sheared through the bony protrusion under its eyes. A third exposed its teeth with a deft cut to the cheek, then another came, and another and another. The daemon howled and tried to protect its face, but the Harlequins had already switched focus to its supporting leg, and cut after cut flashed into that knee-joint until, within a matter of seconds, that too was sheered through and the daemon flopped to the ground, helpless.

One, a lithe daemon with reptilian eyes and a grey spiny coat, tried to batter its way through to Ruhen. It moved with abrupt, darting steps, avoiding the worst of the blows, but it found Ilumene moving to intercept instead as it dodged free of the Harlequins.

The daemon tried to feint one way and nip past, but Ilumene, seeing its intention, threw his shield towards where it was heading, then brought his sword around behind his body and hacked cross-wise at the space he’d just left. Even with a spiny claw outstretched for protection, the daemon was smashed off course by Ilumene’s heavy sword. It staggered a step or two, its arm shattered by the blow, by which time Ilumene had made up the ground and with a great roar of triumph chopped through its neck.

Ilumene looked up to see Ruhen with a small smile on his face and the shadows in his eyes racing with delight. His lips were slightly parted, and Ilumene saw him breathe in the stink of the dying daemon’s blood with relish, but before the soldier could return to the fight a sound came from behind the boy and he raised his sword again as they both turned—

—and wonder fell across Ruhen’s face. Scores of people were streaming out of the city, then the stream became a flood of men and women, soldiers and shopkeepers and labourers, all barrelling towards the mass of daemons, shouting with outrage, crying ‘Byora!’ and ‘Ruhen!’

They brandished whatever they had been able to find: spears and swords, cleavers, knives and clubs: a poor army, but in seconds it was two hundred people, then three, all racing towards the battle without a thought for their own safety. They threw themselves on the remaining daemons even as the Harlequins continued their own lethal dance.

Ilumene gaped at the unexpected turn of events, nearly dropping his own sword in surprise. The population of Wheel had been watching them from the walls – he had expected that – but their love of Ruhen ran so deep that they would attack a horde of daemons? He laughed, long and loud, as more and more of Byora’s poorest ran into the fray.

Ruhen was staring in thrilled silence; his delight at the daemon’s death had paled into insignificance compared with what was plain on his face now. As the people of Byora stabbed and battered and pulled down the last of the daemons, the shadows all around them deepened until there was nothing left to kill and darkness shrouded the victors.

Nai looked in the direction from which the winged daemon had come. The awkward little thing was warm, but entirely motionless; it felt odd sitting on his hand. Its wings hung limply over the sides as though it were dead.

Images blossomed in Nai’s mind: dark snapshots of the Land around them and the creatures that walked it. Here and there he saw distortions, uncomfortable blurs of darkness he guessed were daemon-spirits on the border between realms. Further in the distance were pinpricks of light, farmsteads and villages, all hiding behind a haze of enchantments thrown up by witches and minor mages, hastily done and of varying degrees of effectiveness.

Beside him Nai sensed the large presence of Amber. The big Menin didn’t speak; he knew to let Nai finish before questioning him. It wasn’t clear whether Amber fully comprehended his new situation, but Nai saw no reason to press the matter. Amber understood the journey, the simple purpose of travelling, and he appeared content to take refuge in that while his mind recovered. Taking Nai’s orders was easier than remembering what he’d lost, whether or not they were headed towards the man who had nearly broken Amber’s mind.

‘Amber,’ Nai said eventually, ‘the daemon has seen another traveller.’

‘Menin?’

‘I doubt it; it’s a woman, and a strange one at that.’

‘How?’

‘There is some trace of the Gods on her, but a daemon too. But she’s safe from what we’re keen to avoid: her soul is owned already, and nothing out here intends to compete.’

‘Necromancer?’

‘No, Amber, I don’t think so, but you never know your luck,’ Nai said, at last turning to face him.

A thick growth of white-streaked stubble highlighted the biggest of the scars on Amber’s cheek, a sword-cut. His expression was taut, the face of a man anticipating pain. His loss of both of his life’s purpose as well as his name loomed large, always poised to descend on him again.

‘Let’s go and find out,’ Nai said at last.

Alterr was bright, and they were travelling through open pastureland for the main. With the small daemon to guide them the pair moved quickly.

‘She’s near,’ Nai said less than an hour later, pointing to a humped rise studded with boulders. They followed a rabbit run, the closest thing they had seen to a path all day, and on the other side Nai motioned for them to move more cautiously.

Amber instinctively reached for his sword, but Nai grabbed his arm before he could draw it. ‘We’re not here to fight,’ he whispered. ‘You might provoke her into shooting you if she’s got a bow.’

Fifty yards past the rise they smelled smoke on the breeze: a small fire was burning somewhere nearby, though it was currently hidden from view somewhere in the small copses of silver-leaved ash and young oaks that dotted the ground. They could see nothing in the shadows, but anyone who was surviving out here on their own was more than likely aware of their presence already, Nai mused. They moved slowly, carefully, until at last they spotted an orange glow reflecting off the surrounding tree-trunks, though Nai rightly guessed the fireside would be empty.

He motioned for Amber to wait for him and went on ahead. After a dozen more paces a voice called out from the darkness off to his right, ‘That’s far enough. Who are you?’

Nai froze as he turned to face the blank shadows: she’d spoken in Farlan, and something about her voice was familiar. A woman out in the wilds alone, smelling of Gods, most likely indicated a devotee of the Lady, but the daemon’s touch narrowed the field hugely.

‘A traveller, like yourself,’ he ventured.

‘You don’t look much like me.’

‘But maybe you recognise me all the same?’ He explained, ‘I’m a mage, I did a bit of scouting the ground and found you out here, wearing the perfume of Gods and – ah, something else. If you are Farlan and were once a devotee of the Lady, it might be that once we met.’

‘Go on,’ she prompted as he paused.

‘Were you once employed by the Certinse family, or perhaps the Tenash?’ he asked.

A shape appeared from the darkness: a muscular young woman with short hair, wearing a scowl of contempt. ‘Fucking necromancers,’ she said at last, ‘you really are like cockroaches.’ She did have a crossbow to hand, but she pointed the weapon at the ground.

Nai gave a little bow. He was used to the scorn; it came with the territory, and he’d found a little self-directed humour worked far better than his former master’s disdain. ‘We are an adaptive breed, I like to think. Am I right in thinking we’ve met before, then?’

‘Aye, you were Isherin Purn’s servant – the one with the weird feet, right? I remember some about you too. Your name’s Nai?’

‘Indeed. I trust everything you heard was delightful and complimentary?’ Nai said with a grin, easily falling back into his obsequious,
I am harmless
routine.

‘Cockroach summed it up pretty well actually.’ She looked past him to where Amber was standing. ‘Who’s this one?’

‘My companion’s name is Amber. Might I know your name?’ He wasn’t positive, but he thought perhaps the woman’s grip on her crossbow had tightened at the mention of the Menin major’s name.

‘My name’s Ardela, and as it happens, I’ve heard of both of you. Seems we’re both heading out of Byora at the same time, and probably for the same reason.’

‘The regrettable change in leadership?’

Ardela snorted. ‘Not my reason, but your friend’s Menin so I’m guessing there are people in Byora who’d be keen to kill us both – perhaps all three of us, since your lot are rarely welcome anywhere, necromancer.’

‘Need I point out the circumstances of our first meeting? I don’t think you should get so comfortable up there on your moral high ground.’

For a moment a look of pure, savage anger crossed her face and in that instant Nai imagined the thump of a quarrel hitting his stomach. He actually took a pace back before he caught himself.

‘Don’t push me.’

A brief crackle of energy danced across Nai’s callused knuckles. ‘Good advice for us all,’ he said coldly, before pointedly dismissing the magic at his command.

Ardela stared at him for a long while, then nodded. ‘Aye, maybe. So in the spirit of sharing, how about you tell me why you’re heading west when, if there’s anything left of the Menin armies, they’ll be retreating in the other direction.’

‘First things first,’ Nai said. He moved a little closer and lowered his voice. ‘My companion isn’t quite the man he used to be. I would appreciate it if you didn’t mention whatever happened out west, or any effects of a spell that might have been done.’

Ardela said thoughtfully, ‘Grieving his lord?’

‘It is rather more than that,’ he said, wincing. ‘In that army men are allowed to use an alternative name if theirs might be associated with some family shame, or if it might attract attention because of being named after
some distant relation
.’

Ardela’s eyes widened. ‘Damn,’ she said eventually, ‘that must have hurt.’ She stared at Amber, who was just far enough away not to be able to hear their words.

‘The Gods themselves reaching into your mind and tearing out your name? Yes, I suspect it might have. In any case, his mind is still fragile. I have worked hard to salvage it, and I would prefer that not to be undone.’ Nai hesitated and glanced at her crossbow a moment before continuing, ‘In answer to your question, I’m taking him west to King Emin, whom I hope is your ally.’