A Crown Imperiled by Raymond E. Feist Page A

blow of his staff, spinning around a stocky, ram-headed demon that had ventured too near.
    Pug unleashed another wave of magic. Crimson flame washed along the ground everywhere he pointed, a fountain of mystic energy that caused demons to collapse and writhe in agony on the ground until suddenly vanishing in an explosion of black, sulphurous smoke.
    The gates of the city opened and a company of Pantathian foot soldiers raced out. Each wore armour identical to that which Pug and his companions had seen on bodies strewn around the valley. The warriors looked tired and battle-scarred, and their armour showed newly hammered out dents and tears repaired in a makeshift fashion, but despite their ragtag state, they seemed determined to help end this struggle, sweeping into the milling demon forces that staggered under the new attack. Brutal hand-to-hand fighting ensued.
    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 then 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 turned their backs and began walking toward 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