A Crown Imperilled. Raymond E. Feist

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      Pug cursed silently, for now he was prevented from unleashing more spells of wholesale destruction. He was no friend to the Pantathians, but at that moment they both struggled against a known enemy, which made them temporary allies. He would not mourn their dead, but he would not create any more of them.

      So, each of the three magic-wielders used their arts and strengths as they best knew how: Pug and Amirantha with magic, and Sandreena with both magic and mace.

      Despite being assaulted from two sides, the demons were unrelenting. Without magic, the Pantathians were no physical match for any demon; but they had larger numbers on their side: two or three fought against one demon.

      Pug now used his arts to distract, trip, or otherwise confuse the demons, and in surprisingly little time, the battle was over. A dozen dead Pantathians bore mute testimony to their sacrifice as the last demon body vanished in flame and smoke.

      Pug said to his companions, ‘Stay close. I have no idea what comes next.’

      Sandreena moved slightly ahead of the two men, prepared to take on any physical assault from the soldiers so the two magic-users could bring their arts to bear.

      One of the soldiers was looking around the field, and Pug noticed that his armour was more ornate than the rest, his helm bearing a small set of metal horns on each side. He assumed it was a mark of rank, for the soldier began to issue orders and those around him moved smartly despite being exhausted. They inspected each of their fallen comrades and two were picked up and carried back into the city.

      Finally, when it was apparent that all the survivors were standing, the higher-ranking soldier stood looking at the three humans, then turned his back and issued an order in a language Pug had never encountered before. The soldiers began walking towards the city.

      After a few steps, the officer stopped, turned, and looked at the three humans for a moment. He made a small gesture with his hand, then turned away.

      Amirantha said, ‘If I’m not mistaken, he just asked us if we’re coming or not.’

      ‘I think you’re right,’ said Pug as he stepped around Sandreena and began to follow the soldiers. His two companions fell into step behind him.

      They walked slowly down the sloping hillside, and onto the flat ground around the city. The area had obviously been cut back recently as a few sapling tree stumps were visible, as was a large patch of burnt grass. ‘Torch rather than the scythe,’ said Amirantha.

      ‘If there are no buildings close by, it’s easier,’ said Sandreena. ‘If these people aren’t constantly plagued by demons, then they have other enemies they worry about.’

      Pug said, ‘Perhaps. But it looked to me as if those communities along the river were relatively peaceful until the demons showed up.’

      ‘Old habits?’ suggested the Warlock. ‘Maybe they just keep the plain around the city open because they’ve done it that way for years?’

      ‘Again, perhaps,’ said Pug.

      As they neared the city Pug thought he detected movement on the wall, but by the time they neared the gate no one could be seen. The massive city gates had been left open.

      ‘Be ready,’ said Sandreena, then she realized that was an obvious thing to say. ‘Nervous, I guess.’

      ‘As are we all,’ said Pug, reassuringly.

      They entered and saw three Pantathians waiting for them, not armoured warriors, but wearing robes unlike the ritual dress of any Serpent Priests Pug had encountered before. Their clothing was colourful and made of a fine weave and intricate design, decorated with fancy thread and bead-work.

      Pug came to a halt a few feet away from them. These three were like the dead Pug’s party had encountered in the river valley, and the soldiers who had sallied from the city; they bore only a superficial resemblance to the Pantathians Pug had encountered years before. These people had more pronounced foreheads, and their skulls were less reptilian.

      ‘Can you understand me?’ Pug spoke in the common trading tongue, assuming it would most likely be the only human language to have reached this remote island.

      ‘We do,’ answered the serpent man in the centre. His accent was odd, but not impossible to comprehend. ‘But I find common speak a bit cumbersome, and prefer to use Keshian,’ he said in perfectly unaccented Keshian.

      Pug couldn’t hide his surprise. He, Sandreena, and Amirantha to a lesser degree, all understood Keshian; the Sergeant Knight-Adamant had lived in Kesh for years and the dominant language of Amirantha’s homeland was closely related to that tongue.

      ‘We come seeking answers,’ said Pug.

      In a remarkably human-like change of expression, the speaker said, ‘Is that not true of us all? Come. You do not find us at our best. We’ve struggled for a long time against those you banished.’

      ‘Demons,’ said Sandreena.

      The speaker turned to regard the armoured woman. ‘You have knowledge of the creatures, I assume?’

      ‘More than I would like,’ she answered.

      ‘Well, then we have a great deal to discuss; until a few weeks ago, we were ignorant of them. Please, follow me. I am Tak’ka, elected Autarch of Pantathia.’ He and his two companions turned and led Pug and his companions deeper into the city.

      ‘Is this place Pantathia?’ asked Pug as he walked beside Tak’ka.

      ‘That is what you humans call it. It’s a variant of the Lower Delkian dialect, meaning “Home of Snake Men”. You could not pronounce our name in our own tongue, so Pantathia will serve.’ He motioned for them to follow. As they walked, he glanced sideways and at last asked, ‘You are the one they call Pug?’

      If Pug hadn’t already been surprised by what they had encountered, he was now openly taken aback. ‘Yes,’ he said.

      ‘I thought you’d be taller,’ mused the Pantathian. ‘My people have very strong feelings about you, and they are not all good, I’m afraid.’

      As they reached the centre of the small city, Pug was astonished by the scene before him. Like many cities in Kesh and the Kingdom, the main plaza was large and square with a fountain at its centre. Stalls stood against the buildings around its edge, and free-standing booths completely filled the rest of it. Only two paths permitted easy passage through the area.

      ‘Usually, we only have this much clutter on market days, but with the coming of the Hell-bringers many farmers, traders, and woodsmen have been forced to come here. It’s more of a refugee camp now than a market.’

      Pug marvelled at the people with every step. Every eye turned on them and many voices fell silent as they walked past. The people whispered in their sibilant language and Pug suspected that the Autarch was right; it would indeed be too difficult for human vocal cords to master their language. He used more than a century of observational skills to assess the scene as they СКАЧАТЬ