As Sargatanas swept past him, Eligor caught a glimpse of the title of the book his lord was taking back to his rooms. It was an ancient book, as old as any Eligor had ever seen in the Library, and carved into its wrinkled and liver-spotted cover were the words 'The Secret and Blessed Recollections of the Above.'
* * * * *
Time flowed past in blood and fire, and Eligor watched Adamantinarx-upon-the-Acheron grow into the most enlightened metropolis in Hell. Sargatanas not only encouraged a degree of leniency toward the souls in his keeping that followed the letter of Beelzebub's law, if not its spirit, but also promoted the growth of the Arts, both Dark and Light, among the demons. Souls with any recollection of craftsmanship were given the chance by patron demons to ornament buildings, tile floors, and sculpt the myriad statuary that dotted the plazas. It was, Eligor thought, a dark renaissance—an echo of what had been lost.
Adamantinarx blossomed into an Infernal anomaly. The city could never be confused with its counterparts Above, but there was enough of a resonance to lessen the demons' burden somewhat. The palace, indeed the whole city, was an amazing melange of architecture. Eligor saw not only buildings nearly identical to those of the Above but also wonderful human architecture gleaned, he knew from his research, from the memories and skills of the worker-souls. Huge basilicas flanked pagoda-like towers, which sprouted up from between the souls' densely packed quarters. All were, with the exception of the palace complex on the central mount, a uniform gray-olive color, which somehow made the odd juxtapositions less jarring.
Surrounded by the howling wilds of Hell, populated by the countless twisted human penitents, and governed by the most learned of demons, Adamantinarx became the bitter envy of all of Sargatanas' rivals. They neither understood nor tolerated his goals, and a gnawing resentment began to grow in the provinces around him.
Sargatanas and his court sensed their growing animosity. Visitors from afar became less frequent and forthcoming, bringing fewer gifts and even less news from abroad. Demons Major, other than true friends of the court, stopped coming altogether, sending in their place minor officials. Eligor saw this as not only insulting to his lord but ominous as well. Why, he wondered, was Adamantinarx not seen as the best model of a city but the worst?
It was with a sense of urgency that he met with Sargatanas and Valefar, and after very little discussion it was agreed that the borders should be made less porous and that entry into Sargatanas' wards would only be by special permission. Eligor applied himself happily; it was good to have a specific and important task at hand. And to his delight, he was invited to participate in the conjuring sessions with which Sargatanas bolstered the borders. Acting as second to his lord, Eligor watched with profound admiration as a variety of complicated guardian-glyphs, abstract and beautiful, were created, only to speed off by the hundreds to the farthest corners of Sargatanas' wards. There, Eligor knew, they would take up position, hovering and expanding to hundreds of feet in height, fiery warning-beacons in the ashy gloom.
Even with such insurances the wards were not entirely safe from spies. They could take nearly any form that a Demon Major could imagine, and Eligor always brought the more baroque infiltrators before Sargatanas or Valefar to show them their enemies' ingenuity. All manner of walking, crawling, tunneling, and flying creatures were interrogated, examined, cataloged, and then summarily destroyed. They were much too dangerous to keep imprisoned.
The Great Lord Astaroth, in particular, began a persistent campaign of espionage and theft, flooding the fringes of Sargatanas' wards with innumerable stealthy flyers.
'His capital and wards are a shambles,' said Valefar in his chambers late one day. Quartz-paned cases filled with odd curios lined his rooms, reflecting the dim light of Algol, which was sinking behind the horizon. 'I cannot understand how one so venerable could have let this happen. Who are his advisors?'
'Deceitful puppets standing firmly with Beelzebub,' Sargatanas said. 'I do not believe that the Fly ever really wanted him as a vassal. He has never had much use for Astaroth and regards him more as an antiquated curiosity than as a noble ally. His interest in Astaroth has always been nominal.'
'We could always lend him support, my lord ... ,' said Eligor.
'We have been, unbeknownst to the Prince, for the last two millennia,' interrupted Valefar. 'But we cannot support his wards as well as our own. We are going to have to cut him off and he knows it. Times to come will not be easy for him.'
I see.
Valefar looked at Sargatanas, who sat, fingers steepled, and said evenly, 'It might also create problems for us.'
Sargatanas rose and crossed the room to the large leaded-obsidian windows. He unlatched one and gazed out toward Astaroth's ward. The wind was strong at this height; heavy parchments on Valefar's desk began to stir.
'You, old proctor, are going to cause me a great deal of trouble,' Sargatanas said quietly, staring out into the distant clouds. A roiling storm was punishing the Wastes; red lightning scratched at the horizon. And then, resignedly, Sargatanas said, 'Valefar, we must go to Dis. To discuss this in person with the Fly. It is too important to delegate to a messenger. We will leave Adamantinarx in the capable hands of Zoray. Along the way we can hunt a bit and bring some great trophy to the Prince as a token of our enormous high esteem. And you will come as well, Eligor. It has been too long since you were in the capital.'
'I am sure you missed it, eh?' smirked Valefar.
Eligor's wide eyes rolled.
LEAVING ADAMANTINARX
Leaving Adamantinarx - (unpublished work, acrylic on Gessoboard) - Caravans of all description cross the hostile Wastes, braving Abyssals, Salamandrine Men and marauding demons from enemy realms. Unless they are escorted by significant numbers of armed demons they are frequently lost without a trace. This party is fortunate in having a few important Demons Minor amongst their number and would probably be safe enough in any short journey within their own kingdom. In the background lies Adamantinarx itself, that most un-Hellish of infernal cities.
