The Demon: Brayan's Gold Part 2

aSo you know what itas like to live at the end of the world,a Derek said. aI want to hear all about it.a He clapped Arlenas shoulder. aCoffeeas hot inside, if you want to go warm up. Iall stable your horse and stow the cart.a It was only midday, but there was no question that Arlen would stay the night. Derek seemed as desperate for someone to talk to as Arlen.

aIam warm enough to see the cargo stowed.a Arlen said, though his feet and hands ached from the cold, and he could no longer feel his face. After what happened with Sandar, he didnat intend to let the crates of thundersticks out of his sight until they were under lock and key.

Derek shrugged. aYouare free to suffer as you like.a He took Dawn Runneras bridle and led the way to a pair of wooden barn doors embedded in the rock face of the mountain.

aQuickly, now,a Derek said, as he grasped the great iron ring hanging from one of the doors, adonat want to

let the heat escape.a He opened the door just enough to admit the cart, and Arlen quickly led Dawn Runner through. There was a moment of sweet warmth, but then an icy wind roared in through the door as Derek was pulling it shut behind them, stealing the comfort.

s.h.i.+vering, Arlen found himself in a small chamber, walled at the far end with a curtain of thick, ragged furs. Oil lamps flickered on either wall.

Derek took a lamp and drew the curtain aside to allow them pa.s.sage. Arlen gaped. The entryway was just an alcove at the far end of a vast chamber, cut deep into the mountainside. It was filled with pens to handle teams of animals, granaries for their feed, and stowing area for a dozen carts. It was mostly empty now, but Arlen could well imagine the bustle and energy that ran through this great room when a caravan was pa.s.sing though.

By the time the cart and horse were stowed, Arlen was sweating in his armor again. He looked about the great chamber, but there was no sign of a furnace vent or fire.

aWhyas it so warm in here?a he asked.

Derek led him to the stone wall and knelt, pointing to a swirling pattern of wards painted at about knee height along the wall in either direction.

Arlen studied the pattern. It wasnat complex, but it was brilliant. aHeat wards. So the corelings attack the station doors outsideaa aAnd their magic gets leeched in here to warm the walls,a Derek finished. aSome nights it gets hot as firespit, though. Almost rather be cold.a Arlen, stifling in his armor, understood completely.

They took a side door out of the chamber and into the station itself. The ceiling, walls, and floor were the living stone of the mountain, cut into long halls, doorways and chambers. Heat wards ran along the base of the walls here, too.

aDidnat realize the station went back so far into the mountain,a Arlen said.

aNowhere else to go without blocking the road, and thatas narrow enough,a Derek said. aThat pine lodge is just the front porch. Come on, Iall show you your chamber.a aThanks,a Arlen said. aIf I donat get out of this ripping armor soon, Iam going to melt. Been sleeping in it a week now.a aSmells like it,a Derek said. aYou can have the royal chamber, seeing as how thereas no one else here to take it. Thereas a tub.a The royal chamber was meant to allow Count Brayan and his heirs the luxury they were accustomed to when they went to inspect the mines. The chamber was very fine, filled with oak furniture, fur rugs, and heat warded stones. Most importantly, there was a proper bed, with a feathered mattress.

aThe sun s.h.i.+nes at last,a Arlen said.

aTubas over there,a Derek said, pointing to a smooth depression in the stone floor beneath a heavy pump. aPumpas attached to a heated reservoir. Soak as long as you like and then come out for supper.a Arlen nodded, and the keeper left. He meant to take his armor off and get in the bath, but he fell back on the mattress for a moment, savoring its soft support, and found he didnat have the strength to rise. He closed his eyes, and fell dead asleep.

Arlen eventually made it out of his armor and over to the bath. Working the pump to fill the tub woke him back up, but the hot soak threatened to put him right out again. It was only the insistent growl of his stomach that made him pull on his clothes and stumble out of his room, feeling practically weightless without his armor.

aDerek?a he called.

aIn the kitchen!a he heard the keeper reply. aFollow your nose!a Arlen sniffed the air, and the growl in his stomach became a roar. His nose led him swiftly to the kitchen, where he found Derek wearing an ap.r.o.n and thick leather gloves as he bustled about.

aSit,a the keeper told Arlen, pointing to the closest stool at an oval table at the roomas center, large enough for a score of men to eat at once. aSupper will be ready in a moment. You feeling human again?a Arlen nodded as he sat. aItas only now that Iam clean, I realize just how filthy I was.a Derek went to a keg, filling a mug with foaming ale. He slid it across the polished table to Arlen with practiced ease. aKeep the kegs out in the snow till theyare needed. Tapped this one special for you.a He took his own mug and raised it in toast.

Arlen raised his in reply, and they both drank deeply. He looked at his cup in sudden surprise. aMight be a week on the road talking, but Iad swear thatas Bogginas Ale.a aAll the way from Tibbetas Brook,a Derek agreed, taking Arlenas mug and putting a fresh head on it. aThere are benefits to knowing every Messenger, wagon driver, and caravan guard by name.a aBogginas was the first ale I ever drank,a Arlen said, taking another swallow and letting it slide slowly over his tongue. Suddenly, he was twelve years old again, listening to Ragen and Old Hog haggling at the General Store in Tibbetas Brook.

aNothingas better than your first,a Derek said.

Arlen nodded, drinking again. aMy life changed forever that day.a Derek laughed. aYou and every other man.a He set his mug down to take hollowed loaves of hard bread and fill them with a thick meat and vegetable stew.

Arlen fell on the meal like a coreling, tearing chunks of the warm crust and using them to scoop the delicious stew into his mouth. In minutes, he had sc.r.a.ped the plate clean down to the last crumb and speck of gravy. No meal in his life had ever been so satisfying.

aNight, even my mam never cooked like that,a he said.

Derek smiled. aEnt got much else to do out here, so Iave become a fair hand in the kitchen.a He cleared the plates and ale mugs, replacing them with coffee cups. The brew smelled amazing.

aWe can take the coffee out on the porch and watch the sunset, if you like,a Derek said. aGot big windows made of that new warded gla.s.s they started making a couple years ago. You ever seen that?a Arlen smiled. He was the one who had brought the gla.s.s wards to Miln, and Cobas shop did all Count Brayanas gla.s.swork. He had probably warded the panes himself.

aIave heard of it,a he said, not wanting to deflate the keeper, who looked quite proud.

As they left the kitchen, the stone floor became smooth pine boards, and they came to a large common area with fine pillowed benches and low tables. Arlenas eyes were immediately drawn to the window, and he gasped.

He had once thought the view of the mountains from the roof of the Dukeas Library in Miln was the grandest in the world, but it was only a fraction of the view from the way-

station, which seemed to tower over the mountains themselves. Far below, clouds swirled, and when they parted, he could see the tiny speck of Fort Miln, far, far below.

They sat by the windows, and Derek produced a pair of pipes and a weed pouch, along with a drybox of matches. For a short while, they smoked and drank their coffee in silence, watching the sun set from the top of the world.

aDonat think Iave ever seen anything so beautiful,a Arlen said.

Derek sighed, sipping his coffee. aUsed to think so, too, but now itas just the fourth wall of my prison.a Arlen looked at him, and Derek blushed. aSorry. Donat mean to steal the sight from you.a Arlen waved the thought away. aHonest word, I know how you feel. How often do they relieve you?a aUsed to be one month off and one on,a Derek said, abut then I got caught in an abandoned shaft with the Baronas daughter over the winter, and he nearly had my stones cut off. Said head be coresp.a.w.ned before his daughter married a Servant. Been stuck out here three months now with no relief. Reckon she mustave bled by now, else they wouldave called me back and fetched a Tender. Iall be lucky if they let me come home when the station closes for the winter.a aYouave been alone here for three months?a Arlen asked. The thought was maddening.

aMostly,a the keeper said. aMessenger comes every fortnight, give or take, and caravans come a few times a year. Weeks on my a.r.s.e, and then suddenly Iave got a dozen wagons and fifty head of cattle and pack animals to manage, along with thirty guards needing quarter and a Royal to shout at me as I tend them.a aWas she worth it?a Arlen asked.

Derek chuckled. aStasy Talor? Ent no girl in the world finer, and you can tell her I said so. I could just as easily have ended up the Baronas son-in-law instead of exiled out here.a aCanat you quit?a Arlen asked. aFind some other work?a Derek shook his head. aThereas only one work in Brayanas Gold, and thatas what the baron gives you. If he says spend all year at the waystation, wellaa he shrugged. aStill, I reckon talking to myself all day is better than swinging a pick in a dark mine shaft, worrying about cave-ins or digging too deep and opening a path to the Core.a aI donat think it works that way,a Arlen said.

aLooks safer than Messaging, too,a Derek said. aWhat happened to your cheek?a Arlen reached up on reflex, running his fingers lightly over the wound where the banditas arrow had pierced his cheek. He had treated it with herbs before st.i.tching and it was healing well enough, but the flesh around the wound was an angry red and crusted with blood, obvious to anyone at a glance.

aGot hit by bandits after the thundersticks,a he said. aJust past the third caravan wardpost.a He quickly told the tale.

Derek grunted. aYou got stones like a rock demon, waving a thunderstick around like that. Lucky they werenat looking to hurt anyone. A bad winter can put some folk past caring.a Arlen shrugged. aI wasnat giving up the cargo on my first real Messenger run without a fight. Sets a bad precedent.a Derek nodded. aWell, you ent likely to find any bandits the rest of the way. Youall be in Brayanas Gold the evening after next.a aWhy so long?a Arlen said. aArenat we almost at the top? Figure I can crack the whip and make it the rest of the way before late afternoon.a Derek laughed. aAir gets thin up there, Messenger. Just going up the cart path will have you laboring for breath like you were scaling the rock face. Even I feel tired for a couple of days when I go home, and I was born there.a By then, the sun was only a thin line of fire on the horizon, and a moment later, it winked out, leaving them in near-darkness for the rising. Outside, the whiteness of the snow resisted the darkening sky.

Arlen turned to Derek, who was little more than a silhouette. The bowl of his pipe glowed softly as he pulled at it. aArenat you going to light any lamps?a Derek shook his head. aJust wait.a Arlen shrugged and turned his attention back to the window, watching a rock demon rise on the road outside. It was the same slate color as those lower on the mountain, but smaller still, with long, spindly arms and legs with two joints. Sharp bits of horn jutted along its limbs, and it walked as much on all fours as it did upright.

aAlways expected rock demons got bigger, the higher up you go,a Arlen said. aDonat know why.a aOppositeas true,a Derek said. aLess to hunt up here, and the deep snow trips up the big ones.a aThatas good to know,a Arlen said.

The rock demon caught sight of them and launched itself at the window with frightening speed. Arlen had never seen a rock move so fast or leap so far. It struck the wardnet in midair, and magic flared like lightning, throwing the demon back onto the road and almost pitching it down the mountainside. The coreling caught itself just in time, long talons catching fast in the rock at the cliffas edge.

Suddenly, all the wards at the front of the station came to life, flaring in succession as the magic leeched from the rock demon activated the wardnet, the pattern of symbols dancing across the walls and beams.

Many of the wards winked out soon after flaring, but Arlen could feel the heat wards still radiating faintly, and interspersed through the net and room were light wards, glowing with a soft, lingering luminescence.

Another coreling came at the window, a wind demon that shrieked as it dove from the sky. The net flared again, and the heat wards grew warmer as the light wards grew brighter. More corelings came at the window, and within a few minutes, the room was brighter than a dozen lamps might have made it, and warmer than if it had a roaring fire.

aAmazing,a Arlen said. aIave never seen warding like this.a aCount Brayan spares no expense on his own comfort,a Derek said. A demon suddenly struck the wards right in front of him, and he jumped, then scowled and made an obscene gesture at the offending demon.

aThey always come at the window,a Derek said. aSame demons, every night. I keep thinking one night theyall just give up, but they never learn.a aSeeing you makes them crazed,a Arlen said. aCorelings might eat what they kill, but I think itas the kill itself that feeds them, human kills most of all. If they know youare here, theyall come and test the wards every night, even if it takes a hundred years for one to fail.a aNight, thatas no comfort,a Derek said.

aWeare not meant to be comfortable, so long as night reigns,a Arlen said, looking back out the window. aIs it just rock and wind demons up this high, then?a aAnd snow demons,a Derek said. aThey rise even higher, where the snow never melts, but theyall drift down in a winter storm.a aYouave seen snow demons?a Arlen asked, gaping at him.

aOh, sure,a Derek said, but under Arlenas glare, his ex-pression grew less confident. aOnce,a he amended. aI think.a aYou think?a Arlen asked.

aWindow was foggy from the heat wards,a Derek admitted.

Arlen raised an eyebrow, but Derek only shrugged. aIam not looking to spin you some ale story. Maybe I saw one, maybe I didnat. Donat matter. I ent gonna stop drawing the wards. Jongleurs say thatas what did us in, the first time. Iall keep drawing wards even if I never see a coreling again so long as I live. Tell my kids and grandkids to do the same.a aHonest word,a Arlen agreed. aWill you teach me the snow wards?a aAy, Iave some slate and chalk over there,a Derek said, pointing. He tapped out his pipe as Arlen fetched the items, handing them to Derek and looking on eagerly as he drew.

He was surprised to see that the basic ward of forbidding for snow demons was an alteration of the water demon warda"lines flowing out to make the ward look almost like a snowflake. Derek continued to draw, and Arlen, a skilled Warder, quickly saw how the energy would move through the net. His hand moved of its own accord, inscribing perfect copies and notes in his journal.

Arlen was back in the feathered bed when One Arm tracked him to the station. He heard the demonas keening clearly, and the thunderous cracks as it tested the wards. The station was well protected, but with the giant rock demon powering the heat and light wards, the room grew continually hotter and brighter until it seemed he was standing in the sun at noon on a cloudless summer day in Soggy Marsh. Arlen lay bathed in sweat, the steam filtering in from the yard making everything damp. He would be sanding rust from his armor for days when he got home.

Finally, when sleep seemed impossible, he got up and began inscribing Derekas snow wards into his portable circles until morning. Derek was unable to sleep either, and had the cart hitched and ready to go. Arlen was on his way the moment the sun touched the mountainside.

As the keeper had warned, the going was much harder now. The cold of the road was welcome at first after the stifling heat of the station, but it wasnat long before the chill crept back into his bones, especially with his cloak and underclothes damp. An icy rime soon built up on his breastplate, and try as he might, Arlen could not seem to draw a full breath. Even Dawn Runner wheezed and gasped. They moved at a crawl, and though it had only been a few miles, they came to the next wardpost late in the day. Arlen had no desire to press on further.

The next day was harder still. His lungs had started to grow accustomed to the alt.i.tude overnight, but the trail continued to climb.

aThere must be a lot of gold up there,a Arlen told Dawn Runner, ato make this trip worth it.a He immediately regretted the statement, not for lack of truth, but because the simple act of speaking aloud burned his lungs.

There was nothing for it but to press on, so Arlen put his head down and ignored the biting wind and drifts of powdery snow that came up to his knees in places. The wagon ruts vanished and the trail became all-but invisible, though markers were hardly needed. There was only one pa.s.sable direction, bounded by the mountainside and a sheer cliff.

By afternoon, Arlenas entire body burned for lack of air, and the weight of his armor was unbearable. He would have taken it off, but he feared that if he stopped to do so, he might never get his legs to start walking again.

Plenty of folk make this trip, he reminded himself. Ent nothing they did you canat do too.

It was late in the day, with both Arlen and Dawn Runner on their last legs, when the small mining town came into sight. Brayanas Gold was a mixture of semi-permanent structures, some of wood, and others built from the detritus of the mines, packed dirt and cut or pulverized stone. Most of the structures were poor; having tanned skins for doors and extensions made from tents, but there was a great wooden inn at the townas center, dominating the plateau.

Some few people moved about, women and children mostly, the men likely at work in the mines. Arlen wet his dry and cracked lips, putting his Messenger horn to them and blowing a long, clear note. The act sent knives of ice down his throat.

aMessenger!a a boy called. A moment later, Arlen was surrounded by children, jumping up and down and asking what he had brought them.

Arlen smiled. He had done the same when he was a boy and the Messenger came to Tibbetas Brook. Head come prepared, and tossed sugar candies wrapped in twists of corn husk, small toys, and puzzles to the children. Their joy washed over him like a hot bath. Suddenly, climbing the mountain did not seem such an ordeal, and he found some of his strength returning.

aI want to be a Messenger some day,a a boy declared, and Arlen ruffled his hair, slipping him an extra candy.

aYouare a day early,a someone said, and Arlen turned to see a small man dressed in a fine wool coat, his suede boots and gloves trimmed in white ermine fur. Behind him were two burly guards with small pick mattocks hanging from their belts that looked as much weapon as tool. The man approached with a genial smile, extending his hand.

aRan into some bandits,a Arlen said, shaking the hand. aPressed ahead and skipped a wardpost to get some distance.a aTalor,a the man introduced himself, aCount Brayanas cousin, and Baron of Brayanas Gold. What happened to Sandar?a aBroke his leg,a Arlen said. aIam Arlen Bales.a Talor put his hand on Arlenas shoulder, leaning in close. aIall tell you the same three things I tell every Messenger on his first run here. The climb is always hardest the first time, youall catch your breath by morning, and itas easier going down than coming up.a He laughed as if it were some great joke, and slapped the back of Arlenas armor with a clank.

aStill, Iam surprised they sent a first-timer here alone,a Talor said.

aHad Messenger Curk with me, but he turned tail when the bandits. .h.i.t,a Arlen said.

Taloras eyes narrowed. aThe s.h.i.+pment is intact?a Arlen smiled. aDown to the last crate-nail.a He handed over a wax-sealed tube pressed with Count Brayanas pick and hammer sigil as well as Curkas and his own seals.

aHa!a the baron barked, his sudden tension gone. He slapped Arlen hard on the back. aThis sounds like a tale for inside where itas warm!a Talor raised a hand and his guards took the cart. Arlen walked beside him as he popped the seal on the tube and took out the manifest, his eyes running across the lines listing every item on the cart, down to the last letter and personal package. There was a personal letter from the count included in the tube, but Arlen was not privy to its contents. The baron stuffed the unopened envelope in his jacket pocket.

They came to the stable, where boys were unhitching Dawn Runner as the guards unloaded the cart. Arlen moved to help, but Talor put out a hand to hold him back.

aYou just spent a week and more on the road, Messenger. Let the Servants handle the back bending.a He handed the manifest to one of the stable guards and led the way inside.

Like the waystation, the inside of the inn was heat warded and quite warm. At its front was a general store, the only resource in town for the necessities of life. Shelves behind the counter were filled with various tools and implements on sale, and chalked slates listed prices for food, livestock, and specialty items.

The room was crowded with women, many with children at their skirts as they called to the women taking orders and coin at the counter, who then called stocking instruction to more of Baron Taloras burly guards.

After the silence of the road, the din was overwhelming, but the baron quickly led the way through to the taproom in back and a quiet alcove with a richly appointed table. The bartender immediately brought them coffee.

Arlen blew on his steaming cup and sipped, the warmth beginning to seep back into his bones. The baron gave him time to take his ease until two women approached the table, one young, and another much older. Their dresses were plainer than Royal ladies favored in Fort Miln, but the fine cut and cloth still marked them.

Arlen stood politely as the baron kissed the women and turned to make introductions. aMessenger Arlen Bales, may I present my wife, Lady Delia Talor, and my daughter, Stasy.a Arlen noted the lack of the t.i.tle aMothera before the baronessa name, but he made no comment, bowing and kissing hands just as Cob had taught him.

The baroness was in her late fifties and no beauty, with a pinched face and a long neck, making her seem like a fis.h.i.+ng bird. Stasy Talor, however, was all that Derek had claimed.

She was of an age with Arlen, with dark hair and blue eyes, tall and lithe in the Milnese way. She was pretty of face, but Arlen thought it was the sad cast to her eyes that made her truly beautiful. The lacings of her bodice were undone, as if the dress no longer fit well.

Reckon she mustave bled by now, Derek had said, but suddenly Arlen wasnat so sure. He had to force his eyes up to meet hers before he was caught staring.

They all sat, and the baron and baroness leaned in close as they broke the seal and read Count Brayanas private letter. They began whispering harshly to one another and glancing at Stasy, but Arlen affected not to notice. He turned to the girl, hoping to engage her in conversation, but the baronas daughter did not acknowledge him, watching the discussion with her sad eyes.

Finally, the baron grunted and turned back to Arlen. aWeall soon be sending a caravan to Miln, so you can leave the cart here and head back with your horse alone. There will only be a handful of letters for your return.a Arlen nodded, and soon after a rich lunch was served. The baron and his wife kept up a constant flow of questions, asking for news from Miln, and Arlen dutifully recited every going on of note in the great city, along with whatever gossip he had overheard around the Messengersa Guildhouse. It was the gossip the Royals in exile seemed to covet most of all. Stasy took no part in the conversation, her eyes on her lap.

At last, a guard came over to the table with a chalked slate and the manifest. aThereas a thunderstick missing.a He eyed Arlen suspiciously.

aNonsense,a Talor said. aCount them again.a aCounted twice,a the guard said.

The baron scowled, and his eyes flicked to Arlen for just an instant. His smile was forced. aCount a third time,a he told the guard.

Arlen cleared his throat. aNo, heas right. The missing stickas in front, tucked under the seat. I used it to scare my way past the bandits.a He tried to tell himself he had forgotten the stick was there, but he knew deep down that he had left it there on purpose, hoping that perhaps no one would notice it was missing from the crate.

Everyone looked at him in shock. Even Stasyas eyes came up. Arlen quickly explained his encounter with the bandits, though he made no mention of Sandar.

Still, Baron Taloras mouth fell open with the telling. aYou bluffed your way through by waving a thunderstick?a Arlen smiled. aNever said I was bluffing.a Talor barked a laugh, and shook his head. aNot sure if thatas the bravest or the craziest thing I ever heard! If itas true, youave got stones like a rock demon.a aThey say a man doesnat become a Messenger unless he does,a the baroness purred, giving Arlen a look that made him shudder. aBut how did they find out about the s.h.i.+pment? Only Mother Cera and I knew the exact date.a aAnd Sandar,a Arlen said, awho supposedly broke his leg the morning of.a aThatas a big accusation, Messenger,a Talor said, a quiet danger to his voice. aHave you any proof?a Arlen knew his next words could mean life or death for Sandar. He shrugged. aNot accusing anybody. Iam just saying that if I was you, Iad get myself a new Messenger.a aHow do we know you arenat just trying to get the job yourself?a the baroness asked.

aIam just an apprentice,a Arlen said. aGuild wonat give me the job regardless.a aBah,a the baroness waved dismissively. aWe could change that with a flick of a pen, and you know it. If youare telling the truth, we owe you a great debt.a Arlen nodded. aaPreciate that, milady, but I got an eye to see the world a bit before I settle on a regular run.a The baroness tsked. aYou young ones always do, but one day you may not think steady work on a familiar path such a bad thing.a After lunch, the baron and the baroness stood. Arlen quickly got to his feet as well, and Stasy followed, her eyes still hollow.

aYouall have to excuse us,a Talor said, abut we have some business to attend. Stasy will see you a.s.signed a room and have the boys prepare supplies for your return. Compliments of Count Brayan, of course.a They vanished in a swirl of expensive fur, and Stasy gave a shallow curtsey. aDaughter Stasy, to serve you,a she mumbled.

aYou make it sound like a death sentence,a Arlen said.