Читать книгу A Crown Imperilled - Raymond E. Feist - Страница 10

PUG SIGNALLED.

Sandreena and Amirantha moved out from behind the large rock where they had been waiting. She was clad in the traditional armour of her order, the Shield of the Weak, and he had forgone his usual finery to don a more appropriate outfit: heavy woollen trousers, a dark green flannel shirt, and stout black boots. His attire made the staff he carried look almost gaudy. It had been created that way for theatrical effect, to help gull potential victims into his confidence scheme – summoning relatively harmless demons then banishing them for reward – but was a powerful magic artefact in its own right.

They were tired and dirty from their journey down to the region where Jim Dasher had encountered what he thought was a Pantathian Serpent priest, and it had proved far more problematic than anticipated.

Reaching a safe house in the Keshian city of Teléman had been simple enough, since Pug’s orb had taken them there. But that was as far south as the Conclave had established any permanent stations. Like almost everyone monitoring Kesh, the Conclave had considered the nations of the Keshian Confederacy barely worth consideration. They were universally regarded to be nothing more than an annoyance to the Empire on her southern boundary, and not an area noteworthy enough to warrant the Conclave’s continuing surveillance. The Conclave resources had limits, and Kesh was a vast land. Most of their intelligence gathering had been focused on the City of Kesh, heart of the Empire, and key population centres along the borders with the Kingdom, as well as major sea ports. None of Pug’s agents had travelled below the Girdle of Kesh, as the two ranges of mountains that divided the Empire from the Confederacy were called. Which made it the perfect place to organize the major undertaking of subverting the Empire’s rulers and launching a wholesale invasion of the Kingdom.

And it made it impossible to reach by the magical means at Pug’s disposal.

So, more mundane means of transport had been required. Pug had the ability to transport himself magically to any place in his line of sight, and to the places he knew well, but he was limited in how far he could transport himself and two others repeatedly. Still, the occasional sorcerous jaunt was handy for bypassing certain obstacles and to avoid roving bands of raiders, bandits, and what passed for the local militia, but most of their journey had been made by horseback, small boat, and foot.

The weather was chilly, as it was now early winter in the southern hemisphere. A misty rain had been falling intermittently since dawn and the three travellers were just damp and cold enough to be irritable. Sandreena in particular was beyond patience, as she had been forced to leave her horse stabled in a tiny village on the mainland coast with the other mounts. As a Knight-Adamant of the Order of the Shield of the Weak, worshippers of the Goddess Dala, she found that being on foot was like having to fight with one hand; something she was able to do, but would rather not.

Pug had secured a boat but the owner had refused to row them over to the large island, and at last Pug understood why. The maps that Macros had drawn years before and left behind in his library were full of errors and inexactitudes, one of which was sloppy translation. After speaking to the locals on the far shore of the mainland, Pug now realized that this was not the ‘Island of the Snakes’, but rather the ‘Island of the Snake Men’.

Apparently, he had found the Pantathian homeland. Which puzzled him, as he had thought the heart of the Pantathian murder cult had been located near the foothills of the mountain range named the Pavilion of the Gods. Legend said many of the Valheru Dragon Lords had resided in that region as well.

The Pantathians were an unnatural race, distorted by a Valheru by the name of Alma-Lodaka, Mistress of Serpents, who had created them to serve her. She had bred them, then evolved them into intelligent beings and granted them magical abilities. It was conceded that while the Valheru could not create life, they could manipulate and distort it.

One unintended consequence had been the creation of a death cult who worshipped the long-departed Mistress of Serpents as a goddess, longed for her return, and who would stop at nothing to bring it about. Much of Pug’s personal history was intertwined with these snake men: upright serpents who were human-like in form, but who were more alien than any other race Pug had encountered on Midkemia. He understood the Dasati, a race from another plane of reality, better than he understood the Pantathians.

Pug and his son Magnus had been instrumental in destroying the Pantathian crèches in what they had thought to be the final blow against the lizard race, but apparently there had been more than one enclave of the creatures. As disgusting as it might have been to obliterate every egg and spawn they had encountered, Pug had at least found some solace in the knowledge they were not natural creatures, but twisted parodies of intelligent life focused only on one purpose, and that purpose entailed the annihilation or enslavement of all other races on Midkemia in service of their ‘goddess’.

Pug surveyed the landscape and sniffed the air. There was a burnt-wood tinge in the heavy damp air. He motioned for his companions to follow him and led them up a small rise to a ridge overlooking a shallow valley. In the distance they could see what looked to be a community, but even at this distance it was clear that it had been burned to char.

Pug motioned for Sandreena and Amirantha to stand close, and they stepped forwards to flank him, and put their hands on his shoulders.

In an instant they were standing at the edge of the town. Signs of battle were evident in all directions. ‘Looks like whoever did this wasn’t willing to let anyone survive,’ observed Sandreena.

‘They were making a point,’ said Pug.

‘Point?’ Amirantha looked at the short sorcerer.

Pug nodded. ‘I’m not entirely sure of what the point was: vengeance, perhaps. This wouldn’t be the first time an army destroyed every man, woman, and child of an enemy. You don’t slaughter those who farm and raise livestock if you plan on occupying a land and ruling it.’ He looked around. ‘The dead pay no taxes, either.’

Pug silently turned in a full circle. ‘This valley runs to the south from here.’ He pointed to a nearby stream. ‘If we follow that stream I suspect we’ll find more villages.’

‘We walk?’ asked Amirantha.

‘Most of the way,’ said Pug and he set off. After a moment, the other two followed.

By the time they found the fourth village, Pug was perplexed. ‘This was no small raiding party.’ He pointed to several locations around the area where they stood. ‘This was a coordinated attack. I’ve seen enough battlefields over the last hundred years to recognize that.’

The one unexpected factor had been the corpses left intact enough to recognize: they were Pantathians. They had all been Pantathian villages, and the bodies which had not been literally torn to shreds, or incinerated, were lizard men, women, and children.

Sandreena said, ‘You’re right. There’s no sign of anyone fleeing.’ She pointed behind them and said, ‘If it was merely a raiding patrol, those fleeing the first onslaught to the north of here would have warned those in the south. By now we’d have seen abandoned wagons along the way, or more dead … people,’ she shrugged as if unable to think of a better word to describe them, ‘with bundles of precious belongings. There’s none of that. This was a coordinated attack, as Pug said. Several elements support a military strike.’ She looked at Pug. Then she faltered, pausing as if she heard a distant, faint sound. ‘Do you feel that?’ She looked at Amirantha.

He said, ‘I’ve been feeling something for a—’ His eyes widened. ‘Demons!’

‘Someone sent a demon army here, Pug,’ said Sandreena.

Pug sighed as if it was the last thing he wished to hear.

‘It’s as if the gods can’t find enough grief to visit on this world,’ said Amirantha. ‘I can no longer control one demon, so they send an entire army …’

Pug slowly let his gaze wander. ‘It’s the gods who are trying to stop this. That is why we are here.’

‘I’m a woman of faith,’ said Sandreena, ‘but these are the moments when that faith is tested.’

‘That’s odd,’ said Pug.

‘What?’ asked Sandreena.

Pug pointed to the recently-dead corpse of a Pantathian. He approached it, ignoring the stench of decay, and said, ‘Whenever we encountered the Pantathians, even when we raided their crèches in the mines below the Ratn’gary Mountains, we saw no soldiers.’ The corpse was dressed in a full open-faced helm, a cuirass of steel, a chainmail kilt and heavy leather boots. It still clutched a blood-caked sword in its dead fingers and nearby rested a distorted round shield, rent with talon marks. ‘We saw a few guards, but they were mostly workers, priests, and the female breeders.’ He knelt beside it. ‘There were no soldiers.’ He looked around, seeing others garbed in similar fashion. ‘These Pantathians have hidden an army.’

‘It’s smaller than a few days ago,’ quipped Sandreena. ‘The demons did thorough work here.’

‘What should we do now?’ asked Amirantha.

‘If this Pantathian society remotely resembles ours,’ said Pug, standing, ‘these farms and villages support a city somewhere, or at least a fortress.’

‘If there’s a fortress full of snake-men, I doubt we would be welcome,’ observed Amirantha.

Pug nodded, continuing to look around. ‘Something here feels … right.’

That statement brought puzzled looks from both his companions and he went on, ‘I have been battling Pantathians since the Great Uprising. They played a key part in the invasion of the Emerald Queen’s army.’ Both Sandreena and Amirantha were aware of the role the demon Jatuk had played in that war, using powerful magic to disguise himself as the Emerald Queen. ‘The Pantathians were duped as much as the Saaur and many of the humans loyal to the Emerald Queen. But there was even more in play than was apparent.’ He looked down at the dead Pantathian again. ‘I know there are others; the Shangri, also called Panath-Tiandn, are strange, nearly mindless creatures that have been twisted by dark powers to manipulate magic energy.’ He pointed to the dead soldier. ‘But it seems that there may be a third type of Pantathian we’ve never encountered before.’ He bent and took a small pouch that had been wedged into the soldier’s sword belt and pulled it free. Inside he found small objects. He tossed one to Amirantha. ‘What do you make of this?’

It was a tiny spinning top. Finally, the Warlock of the Satumbria said, ‘It’s a toy.’

‘A child’s toy. The sort of thing a boy or girl might give to their father to bring him luck. Or as a remembrance of happier times.’

‘He had a family?’ asked Amirantha incredulously.

‘I tend to be sceptical as well,’ said Pug, ‘but whenever I’ve encountered Pantathians before, the miasma of their magic is palpable, almost a stench if you will.’

Sandreena said, ‘That’s how demons make me feel. It’s how I know there’s one nearby without having to see it.’

Amirantha could only nod.

‘I sense none of that here. Granted, this is an alien place, but I’ve been to many such and this city and these lands, scarred by war as they are, still do not offer any hint of that black evil that usually surrounds the Pantathians.’

‘You want to go find them, don’t you?’ asked the Warlock.

Pug could only smile. ‘I think we need to. I suspect the three of us are powerful enough to protect ourselves, and at worst I can transport us back to this place.’ He took a moment to grab some rocks and make a rough pattern, all the while studying features and details, etching them into his mind as he had been taught while studying with the Tsurani magicians over a century before.

‘Ah, could you perhaps make us invisible, or something like that?’ asked Amirantha, obviously unhappy with Pug’s conclusion. ‘While we traipse around looking for a snake-man army?’

Sandreena couldn’t help but laugh. Amirantha smiled at the sound; he hadn’t heard it often in the last year.

Pug smiled. ‘I could, but you would have to remain motionless. Not very helpful in a search, I’m afraid. If Laromendis were here, perhaps he could mask us as Pantathians, but that’s problematic, as well. Three unfamiliar Pantathians approaching a fortress, camp, or village, are just as likely to cause a stir as three humans.

‘Amirantha, have you any shielding magic at your disposal?’

‘Against demons? Certainly. Against arrows …’ He shrugged.

‘Then if we encounter any Pantathians, stay close by my side.’

‘Or stand behind me,’ said Sandreena with a sour, mocking look.

‘Back to your old self, I see,’ he said.

She elbowed him playfully in the ribs and said, ‘Still can’t stand a jest, can you?’

‘Oh, that was a jest?’

She frowned. ‘If you—’

‘Children,’ Pug interrupted. ‘If you don’t mind; resume your fighting when we’re back home, though how you two can find any humour in the midst of this carnage I can’t imagine.’

The former lovers were embarrassed and both fell silent as Pug said, ‘Let’s begin.’

They made their way south for more than an hour, down through the heart of the small valley. Cresting a rise they found themselves within sight of a small stream that ran through its centre. Pug glanced around then pointed to the north-east. ‘Remember that range of low mountains we saw from the boat as we looked for a landing?’ They both nodded. ‘That must form some type of rain shield, and the stream has cut this valley over the ages.’ He looked at the relatively bare landscape above the valley. ‘Constant water, shelter from harsher weather; this may be as close to an ideal habitat as you’ll find on this island.’

They trudged along, wending their way through battle-scarred villages and farmsteads. Everywhere they looked they saw charred ruins. Amirantha paused several times to examine a blackened spot on the ground and indicated it was where a major demon had died. Pug was uncertain how he could know from the size of the burn mark; several of the minor demons were an impressive size, but as the taredhel magician possessed more knowledge about demons than anyone else he knew, save perhaps the star elf demon master, Gulamendis, Pug deferred to his superior knowledge.

The valley deepened as the day grew longer.

Sandreena held up her hand and said, ‘Do you hear something?’

Amirantha glanced around and said, ‘Yes, off that way.’ He pointed to the top of a ridge a few hundred yards to the south of where they stood.

Pug said, ‘I can get us that far.’ He held out his hands and they each gripped his shoulders, and suddenly they were standing on the southern ridge.

Below them was an unexpected vista. The winding river valley they had followed had opened up and the river course turned to the south-east. Along its banks were more sheltered farms, unremarkable except that these had been more recently sacked. The pungent aroma of wood smoke still hung in the air, a legacy of rain-damp, burnt timbers.

Pug motioned for the others to accompany him one more time and suddenly they stood on the other side of the river, about a dozen yards north of a burnt-out, skeletal house. It had stone foundations – necessary this close to the river if you didn’t wish to sleep on a damp muddy floor for half of the year – but its timber siding was gone, as well as whatever type of roof it had had.

Amirantha pointed to what appeared to be a mound of burnt scraps and singed rags.

Pug knelt beside it and discovered the remains of a corpse. Little was left but blackened bone. ‘Magic,’ he said. ‘A fire blast of some sort.’ He moved his hand in a small circle, indicating the untouched ground nearby. He gently lifted some of the shreds and studied the upper half of a man-sized torso and skull. ‘Pantathian. Whatever happened here was only two, three days ago at most.’ He stood and pointed to a small pass running through a range of hills to the south. ‘There’s a road. Well-travelled from the look of it.’ He looked in all directions. ‘I’ll wager that there is a lake or swamplands at the end of this river …’ He looked towards the course of the river and again pointed. ‘There! Can you see?’

Sandreena peered in the direction Pug indicated and said, ‘Piers. Large enough to unload barges and small boats.’

‘Logic would suggest that there’s a city nearby, it’s likely to be defensible, so …’ He motioned for them to come close. ‘Let’s take another jump to that ridge up there.’

They instantly appeared on the southern ridge and below them lay a sight to make even Pug feel wonder. A small city rose in the distance, surrounded by white walls perhaps covered in a wash or pale plaster, gleaming in the sunlight. Behind the walls, towers and the tops of buildings were visible.

‘Well, that’s not good,’ said Sandreena.

They had materialized behind the ragged remnants of a demon army that had obviously fought their way down the river valley, up the hill and were now advancing upon the walls of the city.

A circling flyer spotted them and dived. Only years of battle-trained reflex kept Sandreena on her feet. She raised her shield above her head as she ducked and the lightweight creature bounced off it, rolling across the ground in a tangle of wings, arms, and legs. The stunned monstrosity skidded across the ground, sending up a spray of dust. Amirantha, who had begun an incantation the moment the demon struck Sandreena, pointed at it, and it vanished in a cloud of smoke that carried the stench of sulphur.

‘That tears it,’ said Amirantha as the rearmost demons turned around to see what the fuss was.

Pug didn’t hesitate but unleashed a blast of white-hot energy through those standing directly before him. Instantly they were vaporized in an explosion of foul steam and sparking metals, as armour and weapons turned instantly red-hot then exploded. Many of the demons near the blast caught on fire and screeched, racing in random directions and colliding with their companions.

The advancing demons were thrown into disarray as those in the vanguard heard fighting from behind before they had even crossed half the distance between the walls and their starting position. Some turned, anticipating an attack from the rear, while others continued to advance.

Pug shouted, ‘Stay close!’ and Sandreena was at his right side in a single step, Amirantha appearing to his left a moment later. He held his hand high above his head and made a circle with his index finger. A line of red-orange flame seemed to erupt from the tip and arced until it hit the ground, then followed the circular path his finger had made. A spiral of flames started to spread out from their location and each demon it touched screamed or bellowed in pain. Most retreated before it, but a pair of especially aggressive ones tried to push through and fell at Pug’s feet, their corpses rapidly consumed in a flaming burst that left a stinking, blackened mark on the ground.

‘These are not like the soldiers we saw in Kesh,’ Amirantha said.

‘No,’ agreed Sandreena. ‘They’re undisciplined and disorganized, but they are definitely battle demons.’

Amirantha knew she was correct. They were confronted with a mixed group of bull-headed, ram-headed, and lion-headed figures: fighting demons. They were accompanied by others that bore some resemblance to animals, monstrous boars or massive dogs, but with scales instead of fur, horns in multiple locations on their heads, nasty dagger-like fangs and talons the length of swords.

The advancing spiral of flames caused the demons before them to retreat, while those nearing the city walls were being greeted with a hail of arrows and stones. The presence of the three magic-users was beginning to turn an already disorganized assault on the city to complete chaos.

Pug lashed out with every imaginable form of destructive magic he could conjure. A scintillating wave of silver energy rippled outwards, and those demons it struck stopped in their tracks, their bodies shaking violently as if gripped by a sudden palsy. Several fell over and thrashed on the ground, while others eventually shook off the shock and continued to advance.

Pug pushed his hands in front of him, palms out, and a huge blast of wind swept dozens of demons backwards, some of the lighter creatures being picked up and tossed yards to the rear. But still the others came on, heads lowered in a charge.

Amirantha picked his targets. If he couldn’t banish them instantly, he confined them until Pug’s magic or Sandreena’s mace dispatched them properly. The demons threw themselves at the three humans mindlessly and furiously for nearly a minute. Then a pause came as the creatures who had pressed into the battle saw the carnage before them.

‘This lot aren’t terribly bright,’ shouted Sandreena, ‘but they’re smart enough to see this isn’t going their way!’

Amirantha yelled back, ‘Agreed!’ then lashed out with a punishing blow of his staff, spinning around a stocky, ram-headed demon that had ventured too near.

Pug unleashed another wave of magic. Crimson flame washed along the ground everywhere he pointed, a fountain of mystic energy that caused demons to collapse and writhe in agony on the ground until suddenly vanishing in an explosion of black, sulphurous smoke.

The gates of the city opened and a company of Pantathian foot soldiers raced out. Each wore armour identical to that which Pug and his companions had seen on bodies strewn around the valley. The warriors looked tired and battle-scarred, and their armour showed newly hammered-out dents and tears repaired in a makeshift fashion, but despite their ragtag state, they seemed determined to help end this struggle, sweeping into the milling demon forces that staggered under the new attack. Brutal hand-to-hand fighting ensued.

Pug cursed silently, for now he was prevented from unleashing more spells of wholesale destruction. He was no friend to the Pantathians, but at that moment they both struggled against a known enemy, which made them temporary allies. He would not mourn their dead, but he would not create any more of them.

So, each of the three magic-wielders used their arts and strengths as they best knew how: Pug and Amirantha with magic, and Sandreena with both magic and mace.

Despite being assaulted from two sides, the demons were unrelenting. Without magic, the Pantathians were no physical match for any demon; but they had larger numbers on their side: two or three fought against one demon.

Pug now used his arts to distract, trip, or otherwise confuse the demons, and in surprisingly little time, the battle was over. A dozen dead Pantathians bore mute testimony to their sacrifice as the last demon body vanished in flame and smoke.

Pug said to his companions, ‘Stay close. I have no idea what comes next.’

Sandreena moved slightly ahead of the two men, prepared to take on any physical assault from the soldiers so the two magic-users could bring their arts to bear.

One of the soldiers was looking around the field, and Pug noticed that his armour was more ornate than the rest, his helm bearing a small set of metal horns on each side. He assumed it was a mark of rank, for the soldier began to issue orders and those around him moved smartly despite being exhausted. They inspected each of their fallen comrades and two were picked up and carried back into the city.

Finally, when it was apparent that all the survivors were standing, the higher-ranking soldier stood looking at the three humans, then turned his back and issued an order in a language Pug had never encountered before. The soldiers began walking towards the city.

After a few steps, the officer stopped, turned, and looked at the three humans for a moment. He made a small gesture with his hand, then turned away.

Amirantha said, ‘If I’m not mistaken, he just asked us if we’re coming or not.’

‘I think you’re right,’ said Pug as he stepped around Sandreena and began to follow the soldiers. His two companions fell into step behind him.

They walked slowly down the sloping hillside, and onto the flat ground around the city. The area had obviously been cut back recently as a few sapling tree stumps were visible, as was a large patch of burnt grass. ‘Torch rather than the scythe,’ said Amirantha.

‘If there are no buildings close by, it’s easier,’ said Sandreena. ‘If these people aren’t constantly plagued by demons, then they have other enemies they worry about.’

Pug said, ‘Perhaps. But it looked to me as if those communities along the river were relatively peaceful until the demons showed up.’

‘Old habits?’ suggested the Warlock. ‘Maybe they just keep the plain around the city open because they’ve done it that way for years?’

‘Again, perhaps,’ said Pug.

As they neared the city Pug thought he detected movement on the wall, but by the time they neared the gate no one could be seen. The massive city gates had been left open.

‘Be ready,’ said Sandreena, then she realized that was an obvious thing to say. ‘Nervous, I guess.’

‘As are we all,’ said Pug, reassuringly.

They entered and saw three Pantathians waiting for them, not armoured warriors, but wearing robes unlike the ritual dress of any Serpent Priests Pug had encountered before. Their clothing was colourful and made of a fine weave and intricate design, decorated with fancy thread and bead-work.

Pug came to a halt a few feet away from them. These three were like the dead Pug’s party had encountered in the river valley, and the soldiers who had sallied from the city; they bore only a superficial resemblance to the Pantathians Pug had encountered years before. These people had more pronounced foreheads, and their skulls were less reptilian.

‘Can you understand me?’ Pug spoke in the common trading tongue, assuming it would most likely be the only human language to have reached this remote island.

‘We do,’ answered the serpent man in the centre. His accent was odd, but not impossible to comprehend. ‘But I find common speak a bit cumbersome, and prefer to use Keshian,’ he said in perfectly unaccented Keshian.

Pug couldn’t hide his surprise. He, Sandreena, and Amirantha to a lesser degree, all understood Keshian; the Sergeant Knight-Adamant had lived in Kesh for years and the dominant language of Amirantha’s homeland was closely related to that tongue.

‘We come seeking answers,’ said Pug.

In a remarkably human-like change of expression, the speaker said, ‘Is that not true of us all? Come. You do not find us at our best. We’ve struggled for a long time against those you banished.’

‘Demons,’ said Sandreena.

The speaker turned to regard the armoured woman. ‘You have knowledge of the creatures, I assume?’

‘More than I would like,’ she answered.

‘Well, then we have a great deal to discuss; until a few weeks ago, we were ignorant of them. Please, follow me. I am Tak’ka, elected Autarch of Pantathia.’ He and his two companions turned and led Pug and his companions deeper into the city.

‘Is this place Pantathia?’ asked Pug as he walked beside Tak’ka.

‘That is what you humans call it. It’s a variant of the Lower Delkian dialect, meaning “Home of Snake Men”. You could not pronounce our name in our own tongue, so Pantathia will serve.’ He motioned for them to follow. As they walked, he glanced sideways and at last asked, ‘You are the one they call Pug?’

If Pug hadn’t already been surprised by what they had encountered, he was now openly taken aback. ‘Yes,’ he said.

‘I thought you’d be taller,’ mused the Pantathian. ‘My people have very strong feelings about you, and they are not all good, I’m afraid.’

As they reached the centre of the small city, Pug was astonished by the scene before him. Like many cities in Kesh and the Kingdom, the main plaza was large and square with a fountain at its centre. Stalls stood against the buildings around its edge, and free-standing booths completely filled the rest of it. Only two paths permitted easy passage through the area.

‘Usually, we only have this much clutter on market days, but with the coming of the Hell-bringers many farmers, traders, and woodsmen have been forced to come here. It’s more of a refugee camp now than a market.’

Pug marvelled at the people with every step. Every eye turned on them and many voices fell silent as they walked past. The people whispered in their sibilant language and Pug suspected that the Autarch was right; it would indeed be too difficult for human vocal cords to master their language. He used more than a century of observational skills to assess the scene as they made their way through the crowd. Rather than animalistic creatures, he now saw them as a crowd of people no more or less diverse and threatening than the population of any small human city on market day: females with wide-eyed children in tow, vendors displaying their wares, and refugees trying to find a space to settle as comfortably as possible.

Once through the press, they mounted a series of steps to a terraced portion of the city upon which several larger buildings rested. There was nothing remotely like a palace within sight. Behind the buildings rose a wall, high enough to conceal any hint of its purpose. Whatever lay behind it felt oddly familiar to Pug, but there was nothing alarming about the sense of familiarity; instead he found it oddly comforting.

They entered the largest of the three buildings on the plaza, and were led into a hall. Five empty chairs stood behind a table on a dais near the far wall, but the rest of the room was lined with benches able to seat perhaps as many as two hundred Pantathians.

‘This is our seat of government,’ said Tak’ka. He motioned for them to sit on the bench closest to the table, and rather than mount the step and take one of the chairs, he sat on the bench next to Amirantha. His two silent companions sat on the next bench directly behind them. ‘As Autarch, I preside over Pantathia and the surrounding communities.’ He motioned to the two other Pantathians and said, ‘This is Dak’it and Tov’ka, fellow Presidents of Pantathia.’ He pronounced the names with a sharp-pitched tone and a closing of the throat in the middle, and again Pug doubted he could duplicate it.

Tak’ka sighed in a very human fashion. ‘There are usually five of us, but two of our members gave their lives during the last defence of the city.’ All three bowed their heads slightly, as if honouring the memories of the fallen; then Tak’ka looked at Pug. ‘As I said, we have very strong feelings regarding you, Pug of Stardock.’

Pug said, ‘Tell me, please.’

‘You’ve killed many of our people,’ said the Autarch, flatly.

‘And you have killed many of mine,’ said Pug. ‘It was war.’

Tak’ka lowered his head slightly. ‘True; and to our everlasting sorrow.’

‘You find me at a loss, Tak’ka.’ Pug knew he was not doing justice to the pronunciation of the Pantathian’s name, but the leader of the lizard men took no offence. ‘We first encountered your people during the Great Uprising, when the moredhel clans swept down from the north and threatened the Kingdom of the Isles.’ He chose not to mention their goal, which had been to seize the Lifestone hidden under the city of Sethanon. ‘An imposter, who claimed to be the incarnation of a great moredhel hero, was revealed to be a Pantathian priest, disguised by very powerful magic.’ He paused, and his shoulders sagged.

‘We are a deliberately created race; bred to serve a long-departed mistress.’

‘Alma-Lodaka,’ said Pug. Tomas had shared much of his memories of Ashen-Shugar, and had told Pug all he knew of the Pantathians, as had Macros and others over the years.

‘Ah,’ said Dak’it. ‘You know our history.’

‘A bit,’ admitted Pug. Glancing around the room he said, ‘Obviously not as much as I thought. From my previous encounters with your race, this city is completely unexpected.’

‘Then there is much history that you do not know,’ said Tak’ka. ‘Many of those known to us as the Ancient Ones—’

‘The Valheru,’ Pug interrupted.

‘Yes, though we were forbidden to use their names. She who was our mistress raised us up for her amusement and to serve her. Others of the Ancient Ones did as well, though to the best of our knowledge, only the Tiger Men in the Great South Forest also survived the centuries since the Ancient Ones rose to challenge the gods.

‘Centuries ago some of us began to change. There had always been a caste among us who were talented magicians. Those you may know as the Panath-Tiandn are our most talented forgers of magic, but also our least intelligent brothers and sisters. When one is hatched, the child must be constantly watched and cared for, as well as protected from harming himself or others. It is a difficult responsibility for the parents.’

‘Parents?’ said Pug. ‘I thought I saw families huddled together in the square, but in the mines under the Ratn’gary Mountains I only saw breeding crèches.’

An expression suggesting sadness crossed the visage of Tak’ka. ‘So much to explain.’ He shook his head. ‘We began as a single race, a priesthood created to worship our creator. We have had centuries of debate as to our state of being, for we were not created out of the primal matter of the universe, in the fashion of humans, elves, and others, but rather we were less creatures – reptiles yes, though strictly not “serpents”, yet that name has remained. Our creator took a particular breed of lizard found only on this island – ironically that creature is now extinct – and created those beings with whom you are most familiar.

‘When the Ancient Ones departed, and we were told we were a free people, we had little choice but to continue in our duty. But then some of us began to change. We became more … Intelligent sounds boastful, doesn’t it? But we did. And as that happened, two other changes occurred. We lost our ability to construct magic devices and create spells. And we lost our drive to serve our creator, She Who is Not Named.’

Pug sat back. ‘I’m amazed.’

‘Our evolution continued until there were three distinct, perhaps “tribes” is the best word, of my people.

‘Those you know as the Serpent Priests are in the middle, I suppose you could say. They have magic ability but they are single-minded in purpose and of all of us, they most resemble those creatures created by She Who is Not Named. They are not critical thinkers or creatively intelligent, but they are very clever.

‘The Panath-Tiandn are the savants of magic, but need others to care for them in the most basic way.’ Looking at Amirantha he said, ‘It was such as they who fashioned our magic wards against such an attack as we’ve endured recently. But the priesthood removes them as soon as they can, for they have their own uses for them. We are at the other end of this spectrum, those who can think for themselves, have put aside the mindless service to She Who is Not Named, and we do what we can to have full lives.’

‘Astonishing,’ said Pug.

Sandreena said, ‘You mentioned a debate over your state of being?’

‘Ah, yes.’ Tak’ka nodded. Large black lidless eyes regarded her as he said, ‘We wonder if we have become true beings.’

‘I do not understand,’ said the Knight-Adamant.

‘We speculate on the question of souls and whether we possess them.’

Pug turned to Sandreena. ‘I would think that is more in your area of expertise, serving your temple.’

Sandreena could only shake her head. ‘I’m a warrior, Pug, not a philosopher. I know many in the temple who would enjoy the debate, but it is outside the scope of my knowledge or wisdom.’

‘Of little matter,’ said Tak’ka. ‘We may have time in the future to discuss this.’ He stood up and motioned for his silent compatriots to depart and as they did, he turned to the three companions. ‘We have had a fair amount of contact with humans over the years. We have, or rather had, a trading post on the north shore. It was the first place the demons attacked, and all trace of it was obliterated.’

Pug glanced at his two companions. They had seen no sign of such a thing when they had landed.

‘But given that our brethren in the Priesthood are frequent callers here, we always dissuade visitors who attempt to travel farther south. Only one other human has ventured to this city and been allowed to leave.’

Sandreena and Amirantha tensed at the suggestion they might not be allowed to depart peacefully, but Pug raised his hand slightly, palm downward, and motioned for them to relax. ‘Macros,’ he said softly.

‘Why, yes. You knew him?’

‘Yes,’ said Pug. ‘How long ago?’

‘More than a century. His name is recorded in our annals. He stayed with us for a short while, then departed. He was persuasive. Though I suspect had my ancestors tried to prevent his departure they would have been unsuccessful.’

‘You have no idea,’ Pug said with a hint of humour.

‘Well, it is of little import. Other humans have reached here despite our warnings, having passed through the villages to the north. We assumed they meant ill and dealt with them harshly.’ He shrugged in a very human fashion and said, ‘Or there were priests visiting here and they dealt with them. Either way it’s of little importance now.’ He motioned for them to follow him.

‘With the advent of those creatures you call demons, it’s clear that we are in a situation far beyond our abilities to endure. I think we would have repulsed that last contingent of demons you so conveniently destroyed, but should another such band arrive …’ He sighed. ‘Well, I think it safe to say we would eventually be overrun. Our resources are now nearly depleted. We have refugees from the north, as you saw, crowding our plaza, and when they fled they brought little by way of foodstuffs. And winter is fast approaching.

‘Our fishers and hunters roam the lands to the south of here, but we have scant hope to hold off starvation for little more than a month at best, and should the demons return …’ He made a despairing gesture.

Pug took a moment to consider, as they left the conference room and moved deeper into the building, then said, ‘If we do not run afoul of your priests, perhaps we can help.’

‘You must understand we will not be able to stand apart should you, indeed, run afoul of the priests. We are created in such a way that we must defend all or any of us.’

‘I understand,’ said Pug, not entirely sure that he did.

They walked down a long hall until they found themselves at a circular staircase cantilevered into the wall of what appeared to be a tower. Pug judged it would rise into that large edifice he had seen behind the city’s southernmost wall.

‘You are regarded here with some degree of animosity, despite our understanding why you destroyed so many of our brethren. Especially the eggs in the crèches. Some of them most likely would have been more like those who you see here than the Priesthood. We mourn their loss above all.’

Pug could only nod.

‘As I have said,’ continued Tak’ka, as he led them upward, ‘we have diverged from our kin.’ He led them to a large landing at the top of the stairs, sheltered from the elements by a tall dome, with an open door facing into what appeared to be an immense garden.

Pug took only a single step outside: confronting him was a completely unexpected sight. Six tall pillars of light in a diamond configuration stood in the middle of the garden. From each a faint humming, almost musical, could be heard.

‘Sven-ga’ri,’ said Pug.