Demonbane (Book 4) (12 page)

“Yes,” said Kendril, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “and I seem to remember when the guard count for the mansion was only at a dozen, too. I counted more than that here tonight.”

“That wasn’t my fault,” Tomas said quickly. “Dutraad obviously hired more guards—”

“Save it,” snapped Olan. “We need to stay focused. What about a back way out?”

Hamis shook his head. “Gendarmes have the mansion surrounded. There’s no way we’re sneaking out of here.”

Maklavir stepped closer to Kendril as the Ghostwalkers continued to debate. “Kara?” he whispered.

Kendril shook his head glumly. “No sign. I think Bronwyn…
took
her.”

Maklavir lifted his eyebrows in surprise. “Great Eru,
why
?”

“I don’t know. But there was no body, and no other sign of her.” He looked over in the direction of the kitchen. “Joseph?”

“He’s recovering. Still can’t stand.” Maklavir crossed his arms. “Worried about Kara, of course. First thing he asked about. I think I’ll let you break the news to him that she’s gone. old chap.”

Kendril scowled. “Great.”

Olan turned back to them. “It’s decided. We’re fighting our way out, and bringing Dutraad with us.”

Kendril sighed. “Brilliant, Olan. Sounds like a good way to get us all killed.”

Maklavir made a face. “Actually, I was just thinking it sounded an awful lot like one of
your
plans, Kendril.”

Olan stared hard at the Ghostwalker. “I wasn’t asking you.”

“Good, because I wasn’t going to follow such a stupid order,” Kendril shot back.

Olan put one hand on the hilt of his sheathed sword.

Kendril rolled his eyes and put his hand on the handle of one of his pistols. “I have
guns
, Olan.”

“I’m confused,” said Maklavir drolly. “Are the two of you going to kill each other before or after we break out of here?”

Olan opened his mouth to answer.

The handles on the front doors of the mansion turned.

Olan and Hamis instantly dropped into battle positions. Callen ducked back behind a marble statue set against one wall. Kendril whipped out both pistols and aimed them down the hallway.

Maklavir looked up at the ceiling with a sigh. “Here we go again.”

The doors swung open.

Everyone tensed, weapons at the ready.

Madris limped in, leaning heavily on her cane as she walked. Beside her came a gendarme captain in full uniform. He deftly removed his tall bearskin hat as he entered.

Olan’s eyes widened. He lowered his sword. “Madris? What—?”

“Stand down,” the elderly Ghostwalker announced. “I have worked things out with Captain Potemkin here. We are surrendering.”

“
Surrendering
?” Kendril and Olan blurted at the same time.

They looked at each other.

“Surrendering,” Madris repeated. “Throwing down our weapons, giving ourselves over into the custody of the gendarmes, and making sure no one dies in the process.”

“Madris,” said Maklavir with a boyish grin, “I could kiss you right now.”

“You’ve all caused quite a bit of chaos here,” Potemkin said curtly. “I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you all to do as asked, or I’ll have to order my men outside to come in and use force to disarm you.” He gave the frightened figure of Dutraad a measured glance. “We will consider any charges or accusations that any party may wish to file against you at that point.”

Olan ignored the captain and looked over at Madris. “This doesn’t help us, Madris. We have Dutraad—”

“But you don’t have the
Soulbinder
, do you?” Madris looked around at each of the Ghostwalkers. “Or the witch that Kendril recognized.” She sighed and leaned heavily on her cane. “This situation is out of our control. At this point the threat is too big for us to continue this covertly. All of Vorten is at risk, as I’ve explained to Captain Potemkin here.”

“
But
—” Olan sputtered.

“We have one day to find the Soubinder,” Madris said sharply. “One day. We will need the assistance of the gendarmes before this is over, and possibly even the city’s Trained Bands.” She looked directly at Olan. “You know what is at stake here Olan. We can’t afford to let our pride get in the way. Night hangs over all of Zanthora.”

The Ghostwalker commander’s face changed colors. His hand wound tight around the hilt of his sword. He closed his eyes, then lowered his weapon. “Ghostwalkers, stand down.” He paused a brief second. “Tomas, release Baron Dutraad.”

There was a clunk of dropped objects behind him as the others set their weapons on the ground.

Dutraad staggered away, rubbing his neck and coughing.

Olan looked at Madris. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Madris.”

“So do I,” Madris said softly. She turned her head to the gendarme beside her. “You can call in your men, captain. We will not resist you.”

Kendril shook his head as he deposited his pistols on the floor. “And I just got these
back
,” he muttered to Maklavir.

“Actually,” the diplomat said with a smirk, “I’m surprised that you’re not trying to shoot your way out of here right now.”

“What?” said Kendril as he tossed his sword on the ground. “And miss Olan getting humiliated in front of everyone? Believe me,
that’s
worth surrendering for.”

The glow-globes in the great hall had been turned back on, the candles all snuffed out. The glaring white light seemed strange after the soft orange glow of the fluttering flames that had lit the Candle Ice festivities just an hour before.

The hall itself was now a strangely empty place. Instruments lay abandoned where the orchestra had been playing. The punch bowl on the far table had been tipped over in the confusion of the nobles’ exodus. Shattered glass and a large red puddle still covered the floor, ignored by the terrified servants of the manor.

The Ghostwalkers were gathered around the hearth at the far end of the room. The untended fire was slowly dying out, nothing but glowing embers.

Armed gendarmes stood about the room, their faces as cold and unyielding as the Valmingaard winter.

Joseph sat slumped in a chair, his face a grimace. Maklavir and Kendril both hovered nearby.

“We have to
find
her,” Joseph said.

“We can’t search the whole city, old bean,” Maklavir responded quietly. He glanced over to where Madris, Olan, and Captain Potemkin were deep in muted conversation. “Even if they
do
let us go.”

Joseph closed his eyes. The poison was almost worked out of his system, but he was still extraordinarily weak. Kendril and Maklavir had had to practically carry him here to the manor’s great hall. “You promised you would keep her safe,” he said to Kendril.

The Ghostwalker didn’t look at his friend. “She was on her own with Dutraad. I couldn’t reach her.”

Joseph looked up at his friend, a pained expression in his eyes. “I
trusted
you, Kendril.”

Maklavir looked down at the ground and shuffled his feet nervously.

Kendril turned his head to Joseph. “You shouldn’t have. It wasn’t a promise I could keep.”

“Then we find her,” Joseph said. He gave a great cough. “
You
got Kara into this.”

Kendril turned his head away irritably. “She got
herself
into this. She knew—”

“Don’t give me that,” Joseph responded fiercely. He pushed himself forward in the chair. “You owe her. You owe
me.
Don’t stop until you find her.
Promise me
.”

Kendril didn’t look back at his friend. “I promise,” he said at last.

Joseph collapsed back in the chair, exhausted by the simple effort. He closed his eyes. “Is she even still alive?”

Kendril stared at the windows of the great hall. The snow flaked steadily against the glass. “They didn’t kill her. I don’t know why.” He looked back at Joseph. “She’s alive, Joseph. We’ll find her.
You’ll
find her.”

The scout gave strangled chuckle. “I can barely
move
, Kendril.”

“It’s just the poison. Callen said that it’s already working itself out. Just rest, and you’ll be on your feet again in no time.”

Joseph nodded, but said nothing. He leaned his head back against the high back of the chair.

Maklavir stepped up to Kendril. “We can’t find Kara while we’re stuck
here
,” he whispered. “What are the gendarmes going to do with us?”

“I don’t know,” Kendril whispered back. He glanced at Joseph to make sure the scout wasn’t overhearing them. “We have to wait this out. Madris knows what she is doing.”

“Kara may not have much time,” Maklavir responded. “The other Ghostwalkers keep talking about tomorrow night being important—”

“The new moon,” Kendril said. “Bronwyn will be able to use the Soulbinder then.”

Maklavir rolled his eyes. “Lovely. But why did this witch take Kara with her? And where are they now?”

Kendril looked across the hall to where Baron Dutraad was heatedly discussing something with Captain Potemkin. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I have a feeling that Dutraad there is the key.”

Maklavir raised his eyebrows in confusion. “I thought you said Dutraad’s wife was the one supporting Bronwyn and this cult?”

Kendril nodded. “But Baron Dutraad is the only link we have to Lady Dutraad. Unless we find something here in the house, he’s the best bet we have to finding Bronwyn and Kara.”

“But what—?” Maklavir started to ask.

Potemkin, Dutraad, Olan, and Madris walked towards them.

Dutraad’s face was a storm of rage. “I want all of them executed, Captain.
Immediately
.”

“Please, my lord,” Potemkin replied, “we’re still trying to straighten out the details here.”

“
Details
?” Dutraad eyed the group of Ghostwalkers. “These
fantaics
invaded my home, killed my personal guard, threatened my servants, and attempted to rob me. What more details could you possibly need?”

“Your house has been the center of a cult of Seteru worship in Vorten,” Madris said calmly. “A cult which you may very well have been aware of, Baron.”

“That’s
preposterous
,” Dutraad thundered. “By Eru, Captain, if you don’t handle this right now I’ll see that you never work in this town again. Don’t think I can’t. Take these Ghostwalkers outside and shoot the lot of them.”

“I understand your frustration, my lord,” Potemkin responded in a conciliatory tone. “I am as—” he glanced at the group of black-cloaked Ghostwalkers, “
suspicious
of these cultists as you are. But their arguments do have some disturbing merit to them. My men found certain…” he shifted uncomfortably, “
books
in your rooms that are occultic in nature.”

Dutraad gave Olan and Madris a hate-filled glare. “I collect esoteric volumes, Captain, nothing more. Surely you don’t think that I am some kind of…of…
Seteru
worshipper?”

“I understand, my lord,” the steady Potemkin replied. “But as you can see, I have to withhold any rash decisions until I can determine—”

A gendarme, his bearskin hat glistening with melted snow, came up to the Captain and saluted. “My apologies, Captain. One of the Ghostwalkers has returned.”

Potemkin lifted his bushy eyebrows in surprise.

Madris nodded. “That would be Wanara. I believe you will find what she is bringing with her most enlightening, Captain.”

Potemkin gave the elderly Ghostwalker a strange look, then nodded at the gendarme. “Show the Ghostwalker in, sergeant.”

The man motioned to the doors of the great hall.

Wanara entered the room, escorted by two burly gendarmes. She came up to Potemkin, bowed her head, and handed him a letter.

“I demand to know what this is all about,” Dutraad roared. “This is my house, for Eru’s sake.”

Potemkin examined the parchment in his hand. He looked up at Madris and Olan. “This is the royal seal of Valmingaard,” he said.

“That it is,” said Madris.

Dutraad snapped his mouth shut.

The surrounding gendarmes looked at their Captain curiously.

Potemkin tore open the letter and stepped close to one of the room’s glow-globes. He read in silence for a minute or so, then turned back around. “Sergeant, give these Ghostwalkers back their arms. They are to be treated with every courtesy and respect. Is that understood?”

The gendarme stared at his commanding officer in shock. “
Sir
?”

Potemkin waved the letter in his hand. “This is a writ of authorization straight from the King himself.” He glared over at Madris and Olan. “You might have saved a lot of trouble if you had shown this to me before all…
this
.”

“I’ve never had to use it before,” Madris confirmed. “We Ghostwalkers prefer to work in the shadows whenever possible, Captain. When we step into the light our enemies see us as well as our allies But now we need your help. Vorten is in serious danger.”

“This is
outrageous
!” Dutraad screamed. He pointed a finger at the Ghostwalkers. “Captain, as Eru is my witness, I swear if you don’t arrest these
murderers
right now I’ll have you guarding coal mines in Kalingland!”

“Apologies, my lord,” Potemkin responded stiffly, “but I’m afraid that I can’t argue with a Royal writ.” He eyed Olan and Madris suspiciously. “These Ghostwalkers have friends in high places.”

“So do I,” Dutraad snapped. “The King will hear about this, I promise. I’ll have you all
hanged
.”

Madris took a step towards the baron, her cane tapping on the hard floor of the hall. “We shall see, Baron Dutraad. In the meantime, we have questions to ask you concerning your wife and staff. Captain Potemkin, I formally request that this man be remanded into our cust—”

One of the gendarmes, a man just to Potemkin’s left, unslung his musket from where it hung on his shoulder.

Potemkin turned in surprise. He opened his mouth to say something.

“Despair rises!” the gendarme shouted. He swung the loaded musket up to his shoulder.