‘We wait until the sun clears the horizon, then we leave without him.’ She knew he was probably lost; had he been close, they would have encountered one another in the gully or on the upper trail even if he was coming from the other side of that fortification. Still, she honoured her word to him to wait.
The sun rose. When she could see it was full above the horizon, she said, ‘Goddess watch over him.’ Taking the reins of Jaliel’s mount, she handed them to the dwarf. ‘Do you need a leg up?’
The dwarf grinned. In the morning sun his hair and beard looked especially red and his eyes were a glinting blue. He was, like most of his race, barrel-chested and broad of shoulder, with powerful arms and thick legs. ‘I’m short,’ he replied, ‘not a child.’
His vault into the saddle was impressive and he took the reins in hand like a practiced rider.
Farson and Sandreena mounted and she took one last look around, half-hoping to see Jaliel come into sight. Then, taking a deep breath, she said, ‘Durbin!’
They turned their horses and rode to the north.
CHAPTER NINE - War
GULAMENDIS LEAPT.
The lizard scuttled away, but not before the Demon Master seized it in a single motion and bashed it hard against the rocks. He hurried back to the cave where his brother waited. A small fire burned at the back and the Conjurer was huddled before it, trying to stay warm in the early morning chill.
The nights on this world were bitterly cold and the days scorching hot. The sun had just begun to rise on the seventh day of being stranded on this alien planet. They had found fresh water in a small stream running down the side of the hill and they had contrived to catch lizards and birds for sustenance; a bare subsistence, but despite being filthy, tired, and hungry, they were at least alive.
But they were more puzzled about the demons than when they first arrived. Having rested for a day, they had then ventured out to look down upon the massive army twice. Both times they had proceeded cautiously and avoided detection. Something was stirring down in that valley, but they were uncertain what it was. Had this been an elven army, they might have guessed its behaviour, but demons organized in this fashion were outside their experience and knowledge.
The brothers barely spoke, they had talked over everything they knew about this situation over the first few days. They could not have ported into the demon realm, as had that been the case they would have perished in minutes. They might not be on the world they called Home, but they were in that same sphere of experience. Despite the less than hospitable surround-ings, the air was breathable, the water drinkable, and the wildlife edible. Though one of the reptile species they had encountered had induced severe stomach cramps and other unpleasant reactions.
Gulamendis held out his hand as he reached the back of the cave where his brother waited.
‘Lizard,’ said Laromendis, dryly. ‘How unexpected.’
His brother ignored the quip and started cleaning the small carcass with his battle knife. It was a clumsy tool, but a few days practice had given him the ability not to totally destroy their supper before it was cooked. After a roasting, it would provide less than a few ounces of meat and only a tiny bit of fat, but it would be enough to keep them alive for another day. They had slowly gained back enough strength to mount a single defence should they be discovered, but neither had the energy for prolonged combat.
So lying in wait was their current tactic, but both knew that option had a limited expectation for survival. They quickly devoured their meal and Gulamendis said, ‘The thing I find most annoying about this at the moment, is the need to walk down to the stream every time I get thirsty.’
‘Then don’t get thirsty,’ replied his brother. ‘Or find us a damn jar or bucket or something to fetch water back.’
‘I already suggested we use your boot…’ said the Demon Master, in a weak attempt at humour.
His brother made a face indicating what he thought of that notion. ‘How long can we sit here wondering?’ asked the Conjurer.
‘I don’t know,’ said his brother, on the border of exasperation. ‘So much of this makes no sense to me.’
Laromendis had heard his brother’s concerns before, from the first moment they had spied the demons over the rise, but asked, ‘Perhaps if you outline it, one more time.’
‘To what end?’ asked Gulamendis, showing his frustration. ‘Everything I know of demons must be wrong, or at least flawed. Both that human warlock, Amirantha, and I have lost the confidence to trust our conjurations. The rise of the Demon King made it certain we could not trust any creature we summoned to not turn on us; or to vanish back to their realm and report what they saw.
‘Until we got here, our experience with the demons taught us that if they were not confined by magic they were out of control. On every other world the attacks on our people have taught us they were nothing but a horde of monsters, unrelenting, unforgiving, and without any sort of strategy save to assault, assault, assault.’