“Anty! Dear chap!” a voice called. He looked over to where the voice had hailed him. He noted a familiar looking demon, wincing and holding its head, obviously regretting the loud nature of its own outburst. Near the bar, just getting a cup of choco-coffee was Bogsworth. He hadn’t seen Boggy in at least a quarter of a century. When Boggy looked up again, after recovering, Antefalken waved him over.
While Boggy certainly didn’t run in the circles where the information Antefalken needed was likely to be found, talking to the loquacious demon was always amusing, and sometimes informative. Plus, Boggy was a good friend, as demons go.
Boggy made his way over to Antefalken’s table, carefully guarding his choco-coffee against spillage. By his movements, Antefalken noted a severe hangover on Bogsworth’s part. For a demon, that indicated a truly prodigious amount of alcohol. The equivalent of a couple gallons of pure grain spirits at the least. Boggy sat down clumsily, across from Antefalken.
“So Boggy, what’s the cause for celebration and inebriation?” Antefalken started with.
“That most joyous of all occasions in a demon’s life! Oh...” Boggy winced and picked up his choco-coffee for a sip.
“You offed your Accursed Master?” Antefalken asked, pleasantly pleased for Boggy.
“Most certainly. And most naturally, thereafter, I cel-ebriated.” Boggy sipped some more choco-coffee, his eyes still squinting in the morning’s light. “Perhaps a bit too much.”
“Aaah, but how often do you get the chance? Now you’re a free man again.”
“Aye, for a few decades at least. I’m pretty sure I took care of all loose ends.” Boggy said, the choco-coffee starting to bring him back to life. There was nothing like Denubian Choco-CoffeeTM to bring a demon back into action. Only Denubians and demons could drink the stuff, it was just a bit too strong and bitter for mortals. Also the caffeine rush tended to cause immediate cardiac arrest in many mortal types.
“Well, I hope you didn’t celebrate alone. I wished I’d known; I’d have joined you for a drink.” Antefalken toasted Boggy with his choco-coffee.
“No, no, had several friends around,” Boggy looked around, “not sure where they went...” Boggy signaled the bartender to bring over another cup of choco-coffee. “Actually, managed to get in a couple knock-down, drag-out brawls along the way too. I think... I don’t recall too well.” Boggy tenderly fingered his ear. He seemed to recall getting it ripped off at one point. “Course, it’d been real nice to have Tom around then. Nothing like a four in a bar brawl. But him being a newbie and all, he got a little squeamish when I regaled him of the glorious event.”
Antefalken’s ears pricked up. He went from pleasant reminiscence to intense curiosity at Boggy’s words. “A newbie you said? and fourth order?” This was just what he was looking for.
“Yep. Kid’s got guts. Tougher than nails too. Someday he’s gonna be mighty kickass if he ever figures out what he can do. Already he’s probably a match for any of the weaker fours. Just gotta get over this silly squeamishness of his.”
“Who’s his A.M.?” Antefalken prodded, this could be it.
“Ahhh jeessse, I don’t know, it’s hard enough to think after the last couple nights.” Boggy stopped to try and remember, “Lenny something. I don’t know, an Accursed Master is an Accursed Master.”
“Lenamare...” Antefalken said softly.
“Yep, that’s the one! You know him?”
“By reputation only, supposedly got a real big ego.”
“Could be, could be. Certainly using the kid for rather podunk stuff.”
It would probably be best not to give away too much of his interest to Boggy, he really didn’t want Boggy telling any fourth order, new or not, that he’d been asking about him. “Well most those wizards do. Have to have big egos, I’d suppose, in order to think they can go around enslaving anybody they feel like.” Antefalken diverted the topic. He knew this would get Boggy going on for a few hours. Now if only he could somehow indirectly find out where this newbie lived.
Master Hortwell gently floated down from his flying perch in the sky. It was certain, some other small army was camped to the south. Must be Zilquar, late as usual. So what to do? Hortwell guessed the best thing to do might be to meet up with Zilquar’s people. Then what? Take out the remains of Exador’s army? It was not worthwhile, still probably too many wizards and demons to allow them to take it easily. March around Exador’s people and head to Freehold? Hortwell knew that was where Lenamare and Jehenna would be heading. Lenamare would probably need all the support he could get.
