He shook his head. The object was at least a thousand feet long, perhaps two hundred feet wide and eighty or ninety feet tall. It looked like nothing so much as a giant Typhoon-class submarine from one of the Earths. However, this monstrosity was at least twice the size of the one of those Soviet-era nuclear submarines. The other difference was that this thing had what appeared to be three conning towers. The main tower was in the middle and was proportional to a Typhoon class conning tower. There were two others of about half the size of the central tower; one at the front, another at the back.
The vessel was flying over the top of the giant mesa he was climbing, about five hundred feet to his right. Sam frowned in consternation. What is this thing? Where did it come from, and how in the Abyss did I not know about it? His mental alarm bells were now going off. Which of his numerous enemies was responsible for this thing?
Sam adjusted his eyes to focus on the side of the main conning tower. It was at a pretty steep angle, but he could make out a flag painted on one of its sides. He brought the flag into focus. It was not that large, so it took only demonic magnification to read it. He blinked. He looked again and shook his head.
It was the flag of Oorstemoth in Astlan. He would recognize that sign anywhere; there was only one Oorstemoth in the multiverse, thankfully. Sam had to admit this was truly dumbfounding. Knowing the Oorstemothians well — or at least, he had known them well — he could imagine the purpose. They were interested in extending the rule of their law into the Abyss. They were clearly planning to arrest or subpoena demons that they felt had broken their rather byzantine and, quite honestly, arbitrary laws.
Sam sighed. So much for the climb. He needed to investigate and get a handle on this before things got out of hand. Or more precisely, into the hands of one of his enemies.
“We have a priest in Oorstemoth,” Baysir told the quickly reassembled Astlanian response team.
“Excellent!” Moradel said, pleased.
“Actually, we had a few priests conduct small worship services along with some ritual prayers for fellow priests and Rod members on some sort of sacred mission,” Baysir told them.
“A sacred mission?” Beragamos asked with a worried note in his voice. “Given that they are in Oorstemoth on a sacred mission, I am more than a little concerned.”
“Particularly since none of us in Tierhallon seem to know anything about this mission,” Moradel said, grimacing.
“Any idea of what the sacred mission is?” Hilda asked.
Baysir shook his head. “No, but we are reasonably sure it is some sort of joint mission with the Oorstemothians.”
That caused a number of indrawn breaths. A joint Church and Rod mission with Oorstemoth? That was quite unprecedented.
“Given that their first convocation or alliance with Oorstemoth was in Freehold and they left the city together, I have to believe this concerns Lenamare’s demon,” Sentir Fallon said.
“I do not see how this can be good.” Beragamos shook his head.
“I think we may need to ‘visit’ one of these priests and get more information. Is there one who would fit a good profile for a Dream Sending?” Moradel asked.
Baysir gave a tight-lipped grin. “Well, in terms of one I think we can keep quiet, the High Priest of Gizzor Del is there.”
“Verigas?” Moradel asked.
“The priest that started this mess for us?” Stevos asked in shock.
“Yes.” Baysir nodded.
“I am rather surprised he hasn’t been disciplined,” Stevos said.
Baysir chuckled. “An extended stay in Keeper’s City? I suspect he is being punished.”
“Very well, who should do the sending?” Beragamos asked.
Barabus sighed pleasantly as he put down his fork. The meals onboard the Inferno were surprisingly tasty. He, Wing Arms Master Heron, Chancellor Alighieri, Diocate Temerlain, XO Stevensword, Sirs Gadius and Gaius and Sir Lady Serah had all been invited to dine with Captain Cranshall this evening. It was a tight fit for nine people, but then most things onboard this ship were a tight fit.
“This meal has been a nice respite after all the turmoil today. Thank you, Captain,” Diocate Temerlain said to the Captain.
“You are most certainly welcome. I find that a good repast with enjoyable company often soothes tired nerves, at least for myself,” Captain Cranshall said, briefly raising his wine glass before taking a sip.
The day had certainly been wearing on the nerves, Barabus reflected. The whole death in the Abyss question had rattled everyone, including the Oorstemothians. He had not given much thought to Oorstemoth and faith; he’d assumed they were mostly atheists. Apparently not. He and the others had all had their hands full trying to calm the nerves of the crew and the Rod members.
Captain Cranshall had decided to land the ship on a very large and insanely high mesa not that far from their entry point. They were going to need to regroup and strategize to meet their new concerns. While doing that, there was no reason to expend energy flying around aimlessly or even hovering in one spot. Further, landing on the tall mesa would most likely be less conspicuous than sitting in the middle of the air.
“As I explained, by not hovering in the air, we should be less prone to discovery, and on top of this very tall mesa, no one at lower altitudes will even know we are here,” Captain Cranshall reminded them. “This will give us some uninterrupted time to plan our next step.”
“Indeed,” Wing Arms Master Heron agreed. “This mesa is unbelievably high. I’ve never seen anything this high outside of the Grove’s mountains.”
Diocate Temerlain nodded. “A demon would have to be flying at a spectacularly high altitude to see us.”
BANG!
BANG!
Two loud bangs came from near the center of the ship. Further, it sounded like it was coming from above them. Diocate Temerlain blinked in shocked surprise.
“What the—” XO Stevensword exclaimed before being interrupted.
BANG!
BANG!
BANG!
XO Stevensword was closest to the door. He stood quickly, looking very concerned, and moved to exit. “It sounds like someone is banging on the main hatch!”
“Indeed!” Captain Cranshall agreed and stood as well. He waved at a small mirror mounted on the wall of the captain’s mess. “Bridge, what is going on?”
“We are unsure, sir,” Chief Sorcery Officer Halferth replied. “None of our sensing equipment detected an enemy presence, and we are not seeing anything on the main scanners. We need to check the porthole hear the main hatch.”
“On my way,” XO Stevensword snapped. Cranshall nodded and followed.
Barabus looked to Heron, who shrugged.
“Let us go see,” Heron said.
BANG!
BANG!
The dinner companions all began squeezing out from around the tight booth table in the mess to go see who their visitor was.
Barabus noted the knights going the opposite way, most likely to more fully arm themselves. He arrived in the onboarding room to see Stevensword on the metal ladder leading up to the hatch in the ceiling, peering through a porthole.
“Open up in there!” a loud voice yelled from outside.
“Who are you and what do you want, demon?” Stevensword yelled.
“You are an Oorstemothian vessel from Astlan, are you not?” the voice yelled. That caused a large commotion among those in the boarding room.
“How in the Abyss did he recognize our flag?” Wing Arms Master Heron muttered.