‘Four,’ corrected Brandos, ‘if you count today.’
Shooting his companion a dark look and a silent warning not to interrupt again, Amirantha said, ‘We thought it likely to be days more, unless I resorted to something more dramatic’
Kaspar nodded, sat back down, and finally said, ‘I’m listening.’
In efficient style, Amirantha told Kaspar of his encounter with the summoned demon, leaving out the issues of why they were undertaking to summon a demon in a cave in the first place. Still, he left out nothing critical, stressing how dangerous the creature was and that its appearance was a warning of far deeper dangers.
After he finished, Kaspar was silent for a while, then said, ‘Let me see if I have the right of this. You are the two mountebanks who have been fleecing the locals east and north of here by banishing demons you summon.’ When they didn’t deny it, he continued. ‘But this danger is great enough for you to risk coming to see me, even though you knew I might decide to employ harsh judgment against you for your confidence tricks?’
Amirantha glanced at Brandos, who stood motionless. ‘Yes,’ he said finally. ‘This issue is dangerous enough that I felt the need to carry word of it.
‘Magic has a signature, each unique to its caster, but only the most accomplished among us can discern that difference. The man who distorted my magic in order to summon that battle demon is well known to me.’
‘Who is he?’ asked Kaspar.
‘My brother, Belasco.’
‘So, this is a family problem?’ said Kaspar, his eyes narrowing as if this was not the sort of answer he had expected.
Brandos shifted uneasily and said, ‘It’s ... an odd family, really’
‘Apparently so,’ said Kaspar, heaving himself out of his chair with a sigh. He moved to the window. ‘I travelled a lot in my day, to places even you would be surprised to hear of . . . Warlock?’
‘It’s a title among my people,’ said Amirantha, ‘the Satumbria.’
‘I’ve never heard of them,’ said Kaspar.
‘They no longer exist,’ said Amirantha, and even Brandos looked surprised to hear that. ‘They were obliterated years ago by the armies of the Emerald Queen.’
Kaspar nodded. ‘I’ve heard tales of that time.’ He didn’t think it necessary to explain how he had served with men who had fought against that army. He paused, then said, ‘Very well, Warlock. Let us say for a minute that I believe your tale. I am still not clear on why you are so concerned.’
‘I thought I had explained,’ said Amirantha, and a note of impatience seeped into his voice.
‘Think of me as a slow student,’ said Kaspar dryly, as he sat on the edge of his desk, looking at the two men. He motioned for them to bring over chairs and then returned to sit behind his desk.
Amirantha sat and stared at Kaspar of Olasko, the second most powerful man in the Kingdom of Muboya. He recognized at once that he was no ordinary courtier, but a man who had seen much, and who could be very dangerous. Amirantha had no fondness for danger, preferring to give it a wide berth. Avoiding this man’s displeasure was the safest course.
Slowly he said, ‘I was born in a village far to the north, one of many inhabited by a people called the Satumbria. I suppose we had been nomadic at some point, like the tribes to the east of us, but for many generations we had occupied a particularly nice valley and its surrounding meadows.
‘We paid tribute to whichever city state or local robber baron claimed us, but for the most part we were left to our own devices and did as well as any poor farmers could expect to at that time. We even had a town hall and a ruling council of sorts, which was more of an excuse for the men to sit around, arguing and drinking.
‘Our women were the caretakers of the children and our ancestors, and we worshipped our forebears as diligently as we served the gods.’ He paused. ‘In fact, we probably stinted in our devotion to the gods and paid more attention to our ancestors.’ He glanced at Brandos who was paying close attention; he hadn’t heard parts of this story before.
‘My mother had the vision, or second sight, as it was called. That made her both revered and feared. As was our custom, she was made to live apart, in a hut on a hill outside the village, but she was provided with food and other necessities. She was expected to endure isolation, yet be our eyes into the next world, providing guidance and wisdom whenever she was called upon.
‘She was also supposed to have lived a chaste existence, but as you can see by my presence, that was not the case. She was a beautiful woman and men sought her out.
‘She bore three sons. I was the youngest. None of us knew our father, or fathers. My mother was adamant about never mentioning who he or they might have been.
‘In the end, we three were raised and taught by our mother.’ He shifted his weight in his chair, as if speaking of this made him uncomfortable.