03- The Apostles of Doom Read online

  “Yes, we are well aware of that. You’ve made your point several times,” Barabus replied. “However, we are not detecting him here, no more than in the last six areas we’ve checked.”

  The quest for Talarius was quickly proving to be every bit as tedious as Sir Samwell had indicated earlier, when they had first started searching. They had covered a logical grid around their original location on the mesa with no luck. Finally, Sir Samwell suggested they look near the most likely locations; large demon population centers. The Courts of Chaos was the only such place that any of the Astlanians knew of; however, Sir Samwell had thought the Courts a bit too obvious and high-profile of a place for a rogue demon to hide his hostage. He had argued that it would be more likely for him to have gone to one of the smaller cities. Of course, “city” was a very loose term in the Abyss, apparently. Ahead of them, highly magnified on the viewing mirror, was an extremely large volcano that was sitting at the edge of their search radius—not an actual city. According to Sir Samwell, there were a large number of demons that lived in the volcano. It sounded rather absurd, but then this was the Abyss, so demons wading through lava made as much sense as anything.

  Sir Samwell was shaking his head, quite vexed that they had been unable to find Talarius in the volcano. It was as if he had known, or thought he had known that the knight was being held there.

  Gadius was still not completely sure of this Sir Samwell. Yes, Temerlain and his priests had performed every form of test and exorcism they could think of on him; however, without access to Tierhallon, the priests did not have their full resources. A very powerful demon could likely have withstood the scrutiny they were able to provide. The only good consolation Gadius had, and he presumed this was true of the others, was that Sir Samwell did seem to have a very good understanding of Oorstemoth and its laws, or those that it had had when he claimed to have lived there. The minutiae of legal detail that Sir Samwell and the Chancellor were continually debating was so tedious that the Knights Rampant had taken to avoiding the two whenever possible.

  He noted with amusement that Captain Cranshall also seemed to find other duties as soon as those two showed up. It was quite nice to know that not all Oorstemothians were insanely boring and tedious, or at least that there was a limit to how much even they could handle.

  “What is this place again?” the captain asked Sir Samwell.

  “I noticed it is only place in the Abyss that we have found so far that actually seems to have weather,” Chancellor Alighieri said.

  “Yes, it’s as if every cloud in the Abyss gravitated to that site and started dumping rain,” Barabus agreed.

  “And it’s the only moisture we’ve seen except for snow on some very high mountains,” Dante added.

  Sir Samwell nodded. “That is but one of its peculiarities. It’s a very unusual place. It is sort of a rogue outpost where a good number of demons that are out of favor in the Courts congregate.”

  “And you know this how?” Temerlain asked, sounding a bit suspicious.

  Samwell shrugged. “As we’ve discussed, I’ve been here for some time and I’ve been the prisoner of multiple demon lords. I’ve been tortured here, as well as the Courts and a few other places.”

  “I actually find it interesting that the Courts, and the—what are they called, the ‘Co-Factors’? tolerate a rogue outpost,” Dante noted.

  “Tolerate, can’t get rid of—mainly a matter of semantics, I suspect,” Samwell said with another shrug. “As I understand it, Lilith, one of the Co-Factors, did recently try to have these folks exterminated.”

  “I take it she failed?” Barabus said.

  Samwell chuckled. “Miserably,” he said. “In fact, the vast majority of her forces defected after their very resounding defeat.”

  Temerlain looked puzzled. “The lord of this volcano didn’t kill her soldiers?”

  Samwell shook his head. “No, not as I heard it. For one thing, killing anyone down here permanently is a lot of work. While it can be done, typical clashes between demon armies are more about dismembering and immobilizing the other side and, if you can, scattering those remains over wide regions so it takes them quite some time to regenerate.”

  “I still find it very odd that they would switch allegiance,” Wing Arms Master Heron said.

  “Yes, I know. Not particularly loyal, but you get what you pay for, and Lilith is not known for her generosity. She relies on low wages and fear of torture and reprisal. I am sure many of her soldiers were dreading returning home after failing her so spectacularly,” Samwell told them.

  Barabus shrugged with one shoulder as he looked at Temerlain at his side. “That does sound consistent with what we would expect.”

  Temerlain nodded. “Indeed.”

  “So, then,” Dante said, changing the subject. “Where do we look next?”

  Everyone looked to Sir Samwell.

  He frowned. “I still have difficulty in believing he is not there. The place is rather famous for its prisoners. I have to think that this Talarius fellow would be there. It’s not like his captor would just go hole up in a random cave for weeks on end.” He shook his head and grinned. “That would make it nearly impossible to find him; we would have to scour every foot of the Abyss.”

  “So what are our other options?” Captain Cranshall asked.

  “I am wondering—no offense, Temerlain—whether at such extreme range the demons there are able to shield Talarius from your searches. If we got closer, would you be able to pierce any deceptions they might be employing?” Samwell asked.

  Temerlain blinked and rubbed his chin. “You bring up a very good possibility.” He seemed to think for a minute. “With our weakened state, however, to be confident of even detecting a distortion or deceptive spell, let alone Talarius, we would need to get quite close; within a few leagues.”

  “Hmm,” Dante said, turning towards the captain. “Do you suppose we go to a higher alert, battle stations even, get closer and keep a close eye out for demons pouring out of the volcano to attack us? And have the priests do their scanning?”

  Cranshall raised an eyebrow. “We could; we would have to leave a number of our shields down during their scans, so as not to interfere with them.”

  “But we could bring them up quickly if demons came rushing out?” Wings Arms Master Heron asked.

  “Certainly. And even without our primary shields up, a few demons aren’t going to be able to do too much damage,” Captain Cranshall said.

  “Excellent,” Dante said rubbing his hands. “After all, how many demons could there be in that volcano?” He beamed at the others, looking for agreement.

  “Probably no more than five or six thousand at this point,” Samwell said. His statement was greeted with complete silence as everyone stared at him in shock.

  “Five or six thousand demons?” Barabus asked. “In that volcano?”

  Samwell shrugged. “Well, we are about 300 leagues out from it right now, and while your magnification is, I am sure, good”—he gestured to the volcano on the view screen—“that volcano is very large. Thousands of years ago, I am told, there were over twenty thousand demons living there.”

  “Twenty thousand demons?” Barabus leaned against the wall in shock. Temerlain put his hands to his head, pushing back his hair as he tried to grasp this.

  “That’s more than were in Freehold,” Heron said softly.

  “Truly,” Dante said in amazement. “But did you not say that the majority of demons were imps, sprites, shadows and such?”

  “Indeed,” Heron said, and Barabus nodded in agreement.

  “Hmm,” Samwell said as if he found that odd.

  “What do you mean by that?” Cranshall asked the knight.

  “Nothing. Just curious.” Samwell shrugged.

  Heron shook his head. “So we go very carefully and keep our fingers on the buttons for the wards.”

  “Definitely,” Cranshall said, not sounding completely convinced.

  Nysegard, Krallnomt
on: Noon

  Tom leaned back on his chair. Fortunately, since the Isle of Doom did have a D’Orc population, they had appropriately sized chairs that could also accommodate wings. While a little small for Tom, it was doable. They were taking a break between villages taking their oaths for a small lunch celebration. While it was nice to not have to travel to various cities and being in Krallnomton at the base of the volcano, he had to maintain some concentration on keeping the rain from falling on the ceremony. Activating the volcano had pretty much turned the town into Seattle. He also felt slightly bad about not visiting all of the cities to inspect them as a commander should.

  Tom sighed. He was going to be doing this for some time yet, and it was starting to weigh on him. This was just so much responsibility. Yes, he’d had this argument with himself many times before, with D’Orcs and with demons, but being here and seeing humans and orcs, mortals, look on him with so much hope? It was daunting. Who was he, a sixteen—no, strike that, seventeen-year-old kid, to have people swearing loyalty to him?

  Sure there were tons of stories about young heirs taking the throne of the kingdom at his age or younger; however, those were established kingdoms. He was taking over and reviving a dead empire. It seemed this would take a bit more hubris than simply inheriting a functional kingdom. To add to that, his subjects, by and large, were bloodthirsty, war-starved orcs, demons and super-orc demons, and such groups were infamously difficult to control in all the fantasy books.

  Actually, upon reflection, Lilith was probably a textbook case of how one should, or at least how one was expected, to rule such a dark contingent. Of course, that had not worked out well for her. Her reign of terror over her troops had driven them to him. So maybe Tolkien, Jordan, Sanderson and the others didn’t truly understand the best way to rule such a group. In those stories, the dark lords who ruled by brute force and terror always ended up failing miserably.

  Although, to be fair to the dark lords in those tales, the authors were clearly biased in favor of the good guys. Which was interesting, given that the main complaint he had heard from the D’Orcs about the other side was that the alfar always did the PR work and painted themselves as the defenders of righteousness and honor. Team D’Orc, the orcs and their allies were always presented as the bad guy, exactly like demons. Which is why it probably made sense to have them join forces.

  “The tedium of the crown,” Phaestus said beside him. Tom started from his reverie, having not realized that Phaestus had come up beside him. Tizzy and Darg-Krallnom were with him.

  “Yes, it’s taking a while, but I don’t find it boring. Daunting, yes—these are big obligations for them and me—but not boring,” Tom said. Darg-Krallnom nodded in appreciation.

  “So several more days, I take it?” Phaestus asked.

  “At least,” Darg-Krallnom replied.

  “You know at some point we need to continue Tartarus training?” Phaestus reminded them.

  Tom nodded. “I know; we just want to get everyone sworn before the Storm Lords figure out what is going on.”

  Phaestus nodded. “Agreed. Just been thinking about how. While we have covered induction procedures, we have not even touched the release procedures.”

  “Release procedures?” Tom asked, puzzled. He twisted his head to stare at the god. “Why would we want to release anyone?”

  “Well, the obvious thing that comes to mind is that if the Kraken hadn’t gone back to sleep, we would have had to release it to keep it from waking the others or causing other problems,” Phaestus reminded him.

  “And we need to be able to release prisoners for those clients that don’t pay up!” Tizzy interjected.

  “What?” Tom asked, shaking his head.

  “It’s been over four thousand years since any of our clients have paid their fees!” Tizzy exclaimed between puffs on his pipe. “We are going to need to collect! And if they no longer want to pony up, we release their prisoners!”

  “I’m not sure that’s a high priority,” Tom said. He had more than enough on his plate.

  “What exactly is the point of running a for-profit prison if you don’t make a profit?” Tizzy asked, waving all four of his hands theatrically.

  “I am sure the Olympians will pay,” Phaestus said with a grin. “They are one of our largest clients, and they really do not want those titans out and about.”

  “The Five Siblings might be a bit more interesting, given how you took Tiernon’s mana and all, and how Sentir Fallon did kill you—or Orcus, or whatever.” Darg-Krallnom said. “The point being is that they are currently in league with our biggest enemy in the Abyss, Lilith. So collecting from them may be—amusing.”

  “The Five Siblings?” Tom asked, puzzled.

  “The Etonians, as they are referred to by people in Astlan who are not part of their religion,” Phaestus told him. “They are actually called the Five Siblings internally and on worlds without a continent named Eton.”

  “We have prisoners of theirs?” Tom asked, shaking his head.

  “Two.” Tizzy nodded.

  “If Orcus and the D’Orcs were holding prisoners for them in Tartarus, what could possibly have possessed them to put the prison in jeopardy?” Tom asked.

  “That is a mighty good question that we have been contemplating for the last several thousand years,” Phaestus said.

  “I’m thinking we should just let them out; skip the negotiations!” Tizzy grinned emphatically.

  “Yes, we know. You said that the moment you showed up after Orcus’s defeat,” Darg-Krallnom said.

  “And we should have done it!” Tizzy exclaimed.

  “You may recall we were missing both Orcus and his Wand? As well as a good chunk of our staff?” Phaestus asked Tizzy. “Doing anything with Tartarus would have been insane!”

  Tizzy squinted suspiciously at the god. “You say that word likes it’s a bad thing?”

  Tom interrupted the two of them. “Are you saying that we have some leverage over Tiernon and his family?”

  “Yes,” Darg-Krallnom said.

  “Who have they got locked in our basement?” Tom asked.

  “Why, dear old mummy and daddy of course!” Tizzy grinned broadly before taking a big drag on his pipe. Tom blinked and looked at the octopod in shock.

  “Well, technically, stepmummy and daddy,” Phaestus corrected.

  Tizzy paused and then shrugged with a slight grimace as he removed his pipe. “Technically, even worse in that case, that shrewish old harridan. Cinderella’s stepmother was quite pleasant by comparison.”

  Tom did a double-take. How did Tizzy know Earth fairy tales? For that matter, how did he know so much Earth culture in the first place? He frowned and shook his head. If he stopped to question any of this, he’d spiral down and join Tizzy in insanity. He just needed to let Tizzy’s outbursts pass and not let them phase him.

  Phaestus nodded. “She pretty much set the standard for evil stepmothers. Not that she was a good mother for her own children either. I only liked two of them; the others were a pain. The two I liked hated her.” He shrugged before glancing up at the sky. “Maybe that’s why I liked them?” He gave Tom a big grin and a wink.

  “I’d personally have rather had Lilith as my stepmother,” Tizzy agreed.

  Tom glanced at the two of them. How could anyone be worse than Lilith? He looked to Darg-Krallnom. “Who exactly are we talking about? Would I have heard of her?”

  Darg-Krallnom shrugged, not certain. “Her name is Eris.”

  Phaestus closed his eyes and bowed his head for a moment, inhaling as if to draw strength. He finally looked up and opened his eyes. “I detest that woman. She has brought more problems to the Olympians than anyone I can think of… well, other than my parents’ own marital woes.”

  “So she’s an Olympian goddess?” Tom asked.

  Phaestus nodded. “My sister, in fact.”

  “You helped lock up your own sister?” Tom asked in shock.

  Phaestus shrugged. “In our family,
being related does not mean we have to like each other. After all, I hate my mother with a multiversally renowned passion.”

  Tom noted that the others all nodded in agreement with this statement.

  The Inferno: Late Fourth Period

  Barabus shook his head in amazement. “I will give you one big thing,” he told Heron, who stood beside him. “This ship can seriously move.” The Inferno was the fastest vessel Barabus had ever been on; in what his watch told him was about three and a half hours, they had traveled two hundred and fifty leagues.

  “I will grant Dante that.” Heron chuckled in agreement. “I have never seen anything like it. His new geomantic propulsion system is unlike anything I have ever encountered. If there is any way I can get it on my regular airships, you can rest assured I will try.”

  Barabus grinned at Heron. Naturally, of course, he was being polite. The thought of Oorstemoth having even one ship capable of this sort of speed, let alone multiple ones, was absolutely frightening. The Empire would be at grave risk. If nothing else, this joint venture had been a real eye-opener.

  He chuckled to himself. At this point, he would almost be willing to forget Talarius and run back to New Etonia to inform the high pontificates and emperor of what Oorstemoth had up its sleeve. However, they were sworn to a joint mission, and who knew what additional intel he might uncover. Of course, said intel did raise the issue of the nondisclosure agreement they had all been required to sign. He had never actually heard of a legal contract binding one to secrecy before—normally blood was sufficient—but he supposed it made some sense in a very twisted Oorstemothian sort of logic.

  Sir Samwell came over to them. “I could not help but overhear you, and I must agree. What Chancellor Alighieri and his team have achieved is indeed remarkable.” Barabus was not sure, but did the smile on Sir Samwell’s face seem as fake as his own? What reason could there be for that?

  “Captain, we are detecting a mirrorcast being broadcast from up ahead,” Comms Officer Tallswan reported.

  “What?” the captain asked, puzzled.

  “It appears to be a fairly standard two-way mirroring invitation,” Tallswan reported.