Death and Honor: Book 1 of 2 (3 page)

“The prisoners are secure, sir,” Marcus said when they’d finished tying up the survivors. He held a belt pouch in his hand. “I took this off the leader’s body, thought you might want a look.”

“Excellent,” Jeremiah took the pouch. “Post a guard detail and tell the rest of the men they can get some sleep. We ride at first light.”

Marcus saluted and went to carry out his orders. Jeremiah walked over and sat down beside the little chest that appeared to have caused all this fuss. He hefted it; it weighed maybe a pound or two. The lacquered wood gleamed, and the catch showed no sign of damage. The bandits hadn’t attempted to open it after three days in their possession that seemed odd.

Jeremiah set the chest aside and dumped the pouch out on the ground. By the light of the fire he studied the contents: a used silk handkerchief, no monogram, that went into the fire, a folding, ivory handled, pocket knife that Jeremiah appropriated, it would make an excellent gift for Xander’s birthday next month, and a three inch long scroll case. Inside the case he found a rolled up strip of paper covered in vertical and horizontal lines. If it was a language it was one Jeremiah hadn’t seen. He replaced the scroll in its case and tucked it away in his own pouch. Maybe Alexandra could make sense of it, her father worked as a scribe so she knew a lot about languages.

Jeremiah yawned and got to his feet, tucking the chest under his arm. He didn’t plan to let it out of his sight until he had a better idea what was happening. Loken had returned with the horses and it was time to get his bedroll and try to sleep. It would be a long ride home at the pace the prisoners could walk.

I
ck shrieked
and waved his hands at the sky causing the branch he perched on to shake. Below him, in a little clearing in the woods four days travel from the nearest settlement, six of the master’s thugs looked up, frowning, at their tiny master. The humans’ fear washed over the little demon and he reveled in it. For three days they’d waited for the rest of the humans to arrive with the master’s package. Even allowing for the general laziness of humans, the bandits should have arrived two days ago.

After one last shriek at the universe Ick turned his attention to his servants. They were filthy, diseased creatures too stupid to be trusted with even simple tasks without his supervision. The absolute dregs of Lord’s Way, Ick smelled their sweat and the remains of their last meal rotting between their decaying teeth even from his perch far above them. Reaching into their minds Ick read their anxiety and a desire to collect the gold they’d been promised so they could spend it on alcohol and females. Disgusting.

Ick drew on his innate magic and sent his thoughts streaking through space to his waiting master.
The vermin have still not arrived, master
.

Even the edge of his master’s fury sent a thrill of pain though the little demon.
If they haven’t arrived yet they’re not going to. You may return. Gorn will be waiting
.

Yes, master
.

His master severed the connection and Ick allowed himself a gleeful chuckle. Gorn would pay the humans in blood and Ick’s misery would be washed away in it. “Humans, the meeting has been canceled. I will take you to collect your payment now.”

Relief and excitement oozed out of them. They wanted out of the forest and back to what passed for civilization. It was a couple miles hike to the edge of the forest where they were to meet Gorn and Ick was as anxious to get there as the humans though for different reasons. The little demon spread his wings and leapt from the tree, gliding east to where his brother waited, the humans trotting along behind him.

They reached the edge of the forest a few minutes before noon. Ick sensed Gorn’s presence even though he wasn’t in view. They emerged from the forest and found Gorn sitting on a boulder. He wore the form of a human warrior in black spiked plate armor. In the ground at his feet sat a cloth pouch. The humans eyed it licking their lips, eyes shining with greed.

“Your reward,” Ick said. “Go collect it.”

The humans needed no further prompting. The raced forward, each wanting to be the first to collect their payment. The humans were so focused on the pouch they never noticed Gorn hop off the boulder and straighten to his full seven foot height. Once the first human was within reach Gorn lashed out, striking the man with such force that his fist went all the way through the bandit’s chest and blasted out his back in a shower of blood.

The moment he struck the illusion that cloaked Gorn in the shape of a man faded, revealing his true demonic body. Pebbly, reptilian skin covered a massive, broad shouldered figure. Bat wings sprouted from his back and a barbed tail lashed behind him. Gorn ripped his hand free of the human’s chest; in his clawed hand he held the human’s heart. The demon popped the morsel into a mouth lined with three rows of shark teeth and ground it up.

The horror that was Gorn held the other humans rooted in place as surely as chains. Gorn flailed left and right, crushing the humans under his fists. All the while Ick flew over head chattering like a mad thing, dancing through the air around spurts of blood. Far too soon for Ick’s liking nothing remained of the humans but piles of quivering flesh.

Gorn reached down to collect the pouch then gestured for Ick to join him. The little demon would have liked to play in the blood a little longer but he knew better than to keep his unpredictable big brother waiting. Ick landed on Gorn’s shoulder and the two of them teleported away.

K
night Commander Eric Ericsson
contemplated the two inch tall pile of papers on his desk, each sheet detailing either a crime under investigation or one that his officers had solved. As a whole the stacked represented the corruption that was Lord’s Way. Sometimes Eric thought it would be best to wipe out the city and start fresh, like a farmer mucking out the stables.

Eric picked up the top sheet, but before he could look at it a tingling in the back of his head interrupted. Eric leapt to his feet and tossed the paper back into the pile. He hurried over to his office door, locked it, and sat back down. With slow deep breaths he calmed his thoughts, preparing his mind to accept the master’s will. When the tingle became a steady buzz Eric pictured a door in his mind then he opened it.

“Lord, Slevas?” Eric wasn’t comfortable enough with telepathic communication that he could send the words without speaking them.

Knight Commander, there has been a setback
. Even from a distance the power of the demon’s mental voice caused Eric to tense for a fight. He couldn’t win a fight with the demon. Even from a distance Eric suspected Slevas could destroy him with a thought.
I require you to discover what happened to a caravan due to arrive in the city two days ago.

“Of course, my lord. It may take some time as many caravans enter Lord’s Way every day.”

The caravan belonged to the Tristar merchant house and it passed through a village called Three Streams over a week ago. I expect an update by midnight.

The demon broke contact leaving Eric breathing hard and trembling. Every time he finished communicating with the demon he felt like a rookie after his first battle, trembling and sick to his stomach. It should have gotten easier, but no.

Eric got up, unlocked the door, and left his office. The paperwork would have to wait. Bypassing the chaos of Watch headquarters’ main lobby Eric turned right and exited by the back door. Technically he was supposed to tell his second in command he left the building, but he didn’t want to and nobody cared anyway.

Outside, Eric judged it to be approaching mid-morning. He had, perhaps, fourteen hours before he needed to report to his master. No time to fool around. Three Streams was north of the city so any caravan would check in at one of the two north end gates. Eric headed in that direction, setting a brisk pace.

He walked through his city, barely noting the masses of people, buying, selling, arguing, and stealing. Lord’s Way was a merchant city, everybody always trying to get one over on a competitor. They were no better than the thieves whose names covered the pages on his desk, the difference being the merchants robbed people within the rules and the thieves didn’t.

When he reached the north gate one the guards was busy inspecting a pair of wagons. Eric hung back and watched. While his underlings poked through the contents of the wagons one merchant slipped a small pouch to the Watch sergeant who made it disappear just as fast. Eric shook his head and smiled. He didn’t mind his men taking bribes for undervaluing the merchants’ cargo the only people more corrupt than the merchants were the politicians that collected the taxes on them.

When the guards finished going through the motions Eric approached. At the sight of his lion embossed breastplate they snapped to attention. “Sergeant, I need a word.”

The older man’s eyes widened and he looked around, hoping there might be another sergeant hiding somewhere that Eric wanted to talk to. Not surprising considering he’d accepted a bribe seconds before. Eric wondered if he feared losing his job or having to share the coin. “Sir?”

“Give me your log book.”

He dug through his satchel and produced a small note book. Eric snatched it out of his hand and scanned through the last two weeks of entries. Nothing from Tristar had passed through the gates. Eric returned the notebook. “Keep up the good work, sergeant.”

“Yes, sir.” he saluted, a slack look of relief on his pathetic face.

Eric left gate one and headed for gate two. A brief examination of their logbook showed the same as the first, nothing from Tristar in the last two weeks. The caravan hadn’t entered the city, he felt certain, so where the hell was it?

He left the gates he headed toward the warehouse district, lucky for him it wasn’t far from north gate. Hundreds of warehouses sprawled through the district, some new and others old and sagging, most somewhere in between. Tristar’s was unremarkable, small, but well cared for it had the look of a well run, small company. The doors stood wide open and one man rifled through one of the scores of crates while the other wrote on a slate.

“Excuse me,” Eric said.

The two men looked at him, then at each other, and then started toward him. As they got closer it became clear that they were twins, red hair, green eyes, and both of them so thin that together they barely cast a shadow.

“Can we—” the twin on the right began.

“Help you?” the twin on the left finished.

Eric gave them a hard stare. The twin on the right flinched. “Sorry, we do that sometimes.”

“Never mind, I’m investigating an increase in bandit activity and I was wondering if you had any caravans missing.”

The left hand twin ran back into the warehouse, to check their records Eric assumed. A moment later the twin that remained cocked his head then nodded. “We have one caravan outstanding and it’s two days overdue. Given the state of the roads a brief delay is not something to be concerned about.”

“You’re certain it left on time?”

“Oh yes, a messenger bird is sent as soon as the caravan departs. We received the message on time and the caravan master expected no delays.”

Eric nodded. “Very well, thank you for your help.”

Eric left the warehouse and returned to headquarters. The caravan left on time but didn’t arrive. Either it was delayed on the road or someone attacked it. Either way he had enough to contact the master. Four hours had passed since the demon gave him his orders, it should be pleased with Eric’s speed at least.

When he reached his office Eric locked the door and thought about blood and pain and death. He conjured one horrible image after another. Early in their relationship Eric had asked Slevas why he couldn’t contact the demon directly when he had news. The master had laughed and explained that a mere human lacked the ability to do magic of any sort. Eric had bristled at the contempt in Slevas’s voice but as he had no desire to die just then he’d forgone comment.

It wasn’t long before he caught the master’s attention.
You have news
?

“Yes, master. The caravan left on schedule but it hasn’t arrived in the city yet. Either it’s been attacked or had a breakdown.”

Of course it’s been attacked, fool
.
I sent the bandits that attacked it. The problem is the bandits didn’t bring me the item I desired
.

So much for the master being pleased with the speed at which he acquired his information. “Perhaps if I knew what was happening I could be of better service, master.”

The demon’s displeasure sent a shiver up Eric’s back. Had he overstepped?

Very well, Knight Commander
. Slevas emphasized his title to remind Eric who had arranged his elevation.
One of my agents located an item my master has sought for over a century. Before the item reached me it was stolen. The thief had the item shipped to the city in the missing caravan. I arranged for the attack and recovery of the item, but I still haven’t got it. Clear
?

“Yes, master. That section of road is patrolled by Lord Knight Jeremiah Kane. If he learned of the attack he almost certainly is the cause of your bandits’ delay.”

You know him
?

“Yes, we served in the Watch together before he received his spurs. He’s dedicated to doing his duty. In all the years he served in the Watch I never knew him to take a bribe.”

Very well, contact Kane and find out about the caravan and my mercenaries. I want to know as soon as you learn anything
.

Slevas severed the connection.

The fastest way to reach Jeremiah was messenger bird. Given the master’s current mood the fastest way was the best way. Eric jotted down a quick note and rolled up the little strip of paper. Eric hadn’t thought about Jeremiah in years. They’d never been friends, to different, mirror images really. Jeremiah had gotten his knighthood by taking an arrow for the lord mayor; Eric got his by selling his honor to a demon. You couldn’t get much more opposite than that.