They crept along. There had been no threat since they had spied the single demon crossing the marshalling yard, but they had no idea if they were nevertheless being observed from any one of the hundred or so windows in the keep above. It reared at least a dozen storeys above them, a massive malignant presence against the evil red and grey sky.
‘Flyers!’ said Gulamendis, pointing above the top of the keep.
A dozen black specks appeared in the red glow and then vanished, only to reappear a moment later, growing larger. ‘They’re coming this way,’ said the Conjurer.
‘Let’s see what’s in here,’ said Gulamendis, opening the unlatched door.
Inside the hut sacks and boxes were arranged in a roughly organized fashion. When the door was closed, they were plunged into darkness.
The building was a rough construction, and there were cracks between the boards. The brothers peered through them and suddenly large winged demons descended into view, landing in the marshalling yard and assuming a rough formation: two lines of six.
‘They are waiting for something,’ said Gulamendis.
‘What?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘What do we do now?’ asked Laromendis.
‘Well, as going anywhere is out of the question, I suggest we just sit quietly here and watch, for now.’
Unable to think of anything else to say, Laromendis fell silent.
Hours passed, and nothing of significance occurred in the courtyard; after a while the sun rose high enough to be distinctive and give the inside of the hut faint illumination.
‘What have we here?’ said Laromendis, almost absently, as he pulled down a sack from a large shelf on the back wall. The bag fell open and red round fruit fell out. ‘Apples!’ he said.
Gulamendis didn’t hesitate, he grabbed one of the orbs and bit in deeply. It was not the freshest he had ever tasted, but the cool, dry storage had preserved most of the fruits.
‘What’s in the other bags?’ asked his brother as he bit down into his second apple. He began a haphazard examination, opening bags and using his heavy knife to pry off the tops of boxes and as he went, the brothers began to wonder.
The boxes and bags contained provisions and clothing. The clothing was human sized, too big for dwarves, too small for the taredhel, and certainly not of a fashion for the other elven tribes.
‘What is this?’ wondered Gulamendis.
‘I don’t know, but have some of this,’ said his brother, tossing him a hunk of dried meat.
Gulamendis bit greedily into the jerky and began chewing. ‘What is this place?’
‘You know more about demons than anyone else I know; what do you think?’
‘Demons eat everything. They suck life from the living, and then go after whatever’s left.’ He made an encompassing gesture and added, ‘They don’t store fruit, or dry meat. This is not demon food.’
‘Then who does it belong to?’
‘Let’s eat, get some rest and then go and find out,’ suggested Gulamendis.
Laromendis said, ‘I don’t have any better ideas. If no one disturbs our repose, we’ll venture out after dark and discover what we can.’
‘As you said, I don’t have a better idea.’
They sat and began eating.
The day passed slowly. Twice they held themselves ready to fight as a company of demons marched by, but no one seemed to show much interest in the pantry. The two conjectures they arrived at, to explain the unexpected storage shed, were that the original builders of this monstrous fortress had been mortals and had been overrun by the Demon Legion, or that the demons had it built for reasons yet unclear. Given the size and look of the place, the latter seemed a more reasonable conclusion.
As the sky darkened once more, the massive fortress fell quiet, and finally Gulamendis said, ‘We need to explore.’
‘Why?’ said his brother, anticipating his brother’s answer. ‘Very well,’ he conceded before Gulamendis could voice his argument. ‘I know, we can’t stay here forever, even if there’s enough food to last us months.’
His brother smiled and nodded, pointing over his shoulder in the general direction of the fortress. ‘If there’s any way off this world to one that will lead us back to Home, it is in there.’
‘These are the times I wish we’d spent less time learning magic and more times learning how to sneak about unseen, like our forest cousins.’
‘It’s a difficult choice,’ said Gulamendis. ‘We can skulk about, or you can enchant us to look like something else, but then we’d reek of magic to anyone sensitive to it.’
‘What’s your best guess, Demon Master?’
‘With this bunch, I have no idea,’ he admitted. ‘They don’t act like any demons I have ever encountered.’ He fell silent for a moment, then said, ‘Neither those camped in the valley, nor those attacking them, remotely resemble the monsters we faced on Andcardia.
‘It’s as if we’re encountering an entirely new breed of demon.’