Gastropé fidgeted nervously as Exador just stared at him thoughtfully. The room was silent, Exador had stopped tapping on his helmet and simply stared through Gastropé. It really made the young wizard nervous, it was as if Exador had temporarily decided he didn’t exist.
Eventually, Exador’s eyes came back into focus, and he looked at Gastropé himself for a moment then looked around at his men. “Possible, unlikely but possible, they do have that type four running around, it could have been that.” He looked at Gastropé, “Not a demon prince, or even an archdemon, you never would have escaped, I don’t even see how you could have escaped from a type four. That, I find suspicious...”
Gastropé turned even whiter, “M’lord I swear,” he fell to his knees, “all that I’ve told you is true, I escaped using my skills and magic, it was all I could do, but I did.” He really didn’t like the tone of Exador’s voice.
Exador stared a moment longer, as if assessing Gastropé’s sincerity, then said, “Be that as it may, you’ve still failed me. I reward those who succeed, those who fail...”
“Please lord, there was nothing we could do... no normal mortal can stand up to a demon of that power, and I honestly admit that I’m not a good enough wizard to defeat one in combat... what could I have done to change things?” Tears were starting to come to Gastropé’s eyes.
Exador just looked at him sourly, “Take him to the prisoner tent; it’s empty at the moment. I’ll decide what he’ll be... later.”
The guards moved in and picked up Gastropé. He was too scared to protest; Exador’s words... what he’ll be... frightened him. He might be a corpse; he might be a mindless slave; he might be a frog; he might be a toadstool; he might be anything. Exador was notorious for his nasty shape change spells, and for killing people that failed him; there were just too many possibilities-all of them bad.
As Gastropé was carried out, Exador turned to one of his higher ranking aides, “Send out a sufficient number of three’s to try to intercept the remainder of that party, and bring them back here. Then hold them for me till I get back.”
“Back? M’lord?” the aid asked.
“Back. Apparently Lenamare has somehow made it to Freehold and is petitioning against me, for invading his lands. I’ve got to go keep an eye on him, if he spills too much, all of my plans could be in jeopardy.” The aide nodded sagely in agreement. Without saying anything more Exador stood up from his throne, and surveyed his tent. Satisfied that his lieutenants could probably manage what little was left of his army while he was away; he raised his hand in a casual gesture, making a few arcane gestures for show, and vanished.
Chapter 33
Damien leaned back in his chair perusing the missives recently delivered to him by couriers. Except for a harvest report from his steward, the messages were all from his friends in the border areas. All of which concerned an apparent disagreement between the wizards Exador and Lenamare. Which was precisely why Damien was so interested in the reports. Exador and Lenamare were bringing mutual complaints against each other before the council in three days. Damien, being an ever interested and attentive council member, was thus most interested in what was occurring between the two.
Actually as a point of fact, while Damien was one of the more conscientious council members, he normally wouldn’t have paid this much attention to the matter; or would not have if not for the rather unusual reports coming from the confrontation between the two wizards.
Apparently, Exador had lain siege to Lenamare’s castle on the premise of taking Lenamare’s school. A rather worthless thing to do, but given the egos of the two wizards involved, not outside the realm of possibility.
Lenamare had responded as everyone knew he would by tossing up his super wards around the castle. The wards were worthy of respect, even if Lenamare, in his insatiable demand for fawning compliments, did make their secret just a little bit too well known. When Exador tried to remove the wards, Lenamare apparently retaliated with a fourth order demon. Having a fourth order demon on hand was quite a feat, in and of itself, stupid and dangerous to use, but quite a feat.
Anyway, despite Lenamare’s wards and big demon, Exador somehow managed to push Lenamare to the limit. For some reason, apparently thinking his castle was a lost cause, Lenamare blew it up and took the vast majority of Exador’s army with it.
Another piece of incredible wizardry from Lenamare, thought Damien. Lenamare might almost be as good as he thinks he is, if he can pull stuff like that out of his hat, mused Damien. However, it still didn’t make much sense. Why would Lenamare destroy the very thing he thought to save, apparently so casually. Further why would Exador go to so much trouble for a stupid little castle and some land. It just didn’t add up.
Damien relaxed in his chair thinking. The music from Antefalken’s harp slowly relaxing some of the tension from reading the messages. Damien was in his quarters at Freehold, relaxing in his stuffed chair listening to his bard, Antefalken, play a collection of melodies from the Vargosite Empire, 600 years ago. Damien sat gently stroking his light beard and mustache, now and then brushing a dark golden lock of hair from before his eyes.
The melodies temporarily diverting him, he once again noted the advantages of having a bard that could play music that no one else had heard in 400 years. Actually, his bard had other advantages. Maybe Antefalken could find something out about Lenamare’s fourth order demon. No one had been aware that Lenamare had one. Perhaps Antefalken with his special connections could find something out.
Damien looked over to Antefalken. Antefalken was perched with his small harp, sitting on the back of a sturdy chair, with his legs on the seat. The lap harp balanced on his thighs as he played. At first glance, Antefalken appeared to be a boy. Certainly in size and proportion he was about the size of a thin boy of about seven years. However his beard and moustache rather despoiled that image. Well, upon further thought, Damien decided that maybe the cat-like eyes or the small bat-wings on Antefalken’s back didn’t help the image much either.
“Antefalken?” asked Damien, interrupting the flow of music.
“Yes, m’lord?” the bard replied, still strumming, but more softly now.
“You haven’t by any chance, heard of any fourth order demons being enslaved recently have you?”
“Fourth order?” the bard said with a puzzled expression. “No, I don’t recall any such events. Of course I’m normally here in Astlan most of the time, so I do miss the court gossip.”
“Hmm. Next time you’re back, if you could perhaps enquire. Lenamare has come up with a fourth order demon that he’s been using in combat with Exador.”
“Using a fourth order demon in combat? My, my, isn’t your friend Lenamare getting a little bit senile these days. Or is the end of the world coming and he’s pulling out all the stops?” asked Antefalken.
“Hardly the end of the world, or at least if it is, Exador and Lenamare haven’t bothered to tell the rest of us. Not that they would mind you... but the thought would be nice. Anyway, for whatever reason, Lenamare’s up to something so big that he’s willing to use fourth order demons and waste his own castle in a rather incredible blast to try and take out Exador.”
“Hmm, well, if you won’t be needing me tonight, I could return to the Abyss, dig up what I can at the Courts of Chaos. Anna Leri claims she’s got to work all night to get a gown ready for Lady Beth, so she won’t be able to make our usual rendezvous...