Free Scimitar War by Chris A. Jackson Page A

the magic?” he asked.
    Tim’s voice was subdued as he answered. “Hydra could move water around and conjure fog, but she needed…blood to do her magic.” The boy’s last words had trailed off to a bare whisper, as if only now did he consider that it was his beloved Miss Cammy who had done these horrible deeds.
    “If he’s right, milord, it would explain much.” Huffington had seen magic, and he had seen ordinary men do worse than cut a man’s throat. It didn’t take a big leap of faith for him to believe that a demon was responsible for the mayhem here.
    “But a demon…” Norris looked ill, and he swallowed hard. Huffington watched him and knew he was trying to wrap his mind around the concept of Camilla being a blood-drinking, demon-possessed monster.
    “Milord.” He placed his hand on his master’s shoulder and tried to explain. “It wasn’t Miss Camilla who killed these men. It was the demon.” Norris looked up at him and opened his mouth, but Huffington continued. “That she retained enough of herself to write this letter, to flee before the demon took complete control of her, shows the battle she was fighting within herself. She knew she had to get away before she lost control.”
    Norris closed his mouth and Huffington watched his jaw muscles clench. “All right. How do we…I mean…Tim, do you know if there is any way to exorcise this demon?”
    “No, I…” The boy shrugged and turned away, but not before Huffington saw the glint of tears in his eyes.
    “A priest might help,” the secretary suggested, “but I don’t know where we’d find one out here.”
    “The natives have shamans,” Tim said, turning back with some hope in his eyes. “Are they like priests?”
    Huffington shrugged. “I don’t know, but it’s certainly an option. Though there’s the matter of making her sit still long enough for an exorcism. She’d likely kill someone first.”
    “Camilla would never hurt us,” Norris said resolutely.
    “ Camilla might not hurt you,” Huffington said gently, “but from her letter, she expects the demon’s will to overpower her soon. The longer she’s possessed, the more she’s Hydra and the less she’s Camilla, I think.”
    Norris put his face in his hands. Tim knelt next to him and put an arm around his father’s shoulders. They both looked miserable. Norris looked up at him and heaved a ragged breath.
    “The admiral has refused to provide a ship to rescue those captured by the cannibals, and I don’t see him changing his mind for three more people. But I can’t just abandon Camilla to a demon without trying some thing!”
    The strain in the count’s voice was clear; the man was near the breaking point. Huffington wracked his brain for an idea, some kind of plan that might help.
    “Milord,” Huffington said, “you must petition the admiral for a ship. I know he wouldn’t give one to the natives to save their kin, and refused you when you thought Camilla had been kidnapped by pirates, but you’re the emperor’s representative. And, well, the admiral now knows Miss Camilla and seems to think highly of her. If he says no, then we’ll have to consider another plan.”
    Norris raised his head; it seemed that the suggestion had struck a chord. It was better to do something—anything—than to sit around feeling helpless. The count squared his shoulders, and Huffington could see him summoning the same deep resolve that had gotten him through other hard times.
    “You’re right, Huffington; I will petition the admiral for a ship. He’s got to give us one!” Norris picked up Camilla’s letter and folded it small, then carefully secreted it in the pocket of his robe. “No one must know the contents of this letter. If Joslan finds it, instead of searching for Camilla, they’ll be hunting her down.”
    “But they’ll think Paska and Tipos are murderers,” Tim reminded his father, “and they’re not.”
    “And there’s nothing we can do to change that right