Mother of Demons by Eric Flint

The Mother of Demons cannot be a cruel monster, then. No owoc would remain in the vicinity of such. Certainly not with that color on their mantles.

Then Kopporu saw the Mother of Demons herself, and was unable to prevent orange from glowing in her mantle.

She is so small! Smaller than any of them!

She had been expecting an enormous creature. As big as—as what? How big would a Mother of Demons be? Like a kraken, Kopporu had thought.

Kopporu did not doubt for a moment what she was seeing, however. There was no mistaking the stance of the demons in the clearing. The small one was clearly the center of authority and respect.

There were many demons in the clearing, she saw. Most of them with darts in their palps, but not all. She saw a number of very small demons, clutching the peds of the big ones, peeking around at the new arrivals.

Children. Like new-spoken spawn. Shy, but filled with curiosity.

The tension eased further.

Surely not even the Mother of Demons would order a massacre in front of such.

There were gukuy in the clearing as well. A good number of them. Several were standing near to the Mother of Demons, one of them—an old gukuy—at her very side. Clearly, these gukuy also occupied positions of respect and authority.

Kopporu was not certain, but she thought most of the gukuy were Pilgrims of the Way. Perhaps all of them. She had no doubt that the old gukuy standing next to the Mother was a Pilgrim. It was somehow obvious.

Her tension eased still further. The Kiktu had always approved of the new religion, since they first became aware of it. Even the old clan leaders. The ideas of the Pilgrims were strange, of course. Difficult to grasp. But one thing had always been clear about them. Unlike all other southerners, the Pilgrims venerated the Old Ones. Not, Kopporu thought, for the same reasons as the Kiktu. But the veneration itself was enough. The Kiktu had granted permission for the Pilgrims to pass through their territory, which many of them had. Seeking refuge, they said, in the Chiton.

I had not realized there were so many of them.

Over time, a number of the Kiktu themselves had adopted the Way. Young warriors seemed especially attracted to the new creed. Kopporu knew that, during the trek through the Swamp, many more had become converted by their sisters. There were no clan leaders to give them stern lectures about hallowed tribal ancestors.

Kopporu knew little, herself, of the beliefs of the Pilgrims. She had been curious, and had felt the desire to investigate. But the necessities of command had driven all other thought aside.

One thing she did know, however. The Pilgrims would defend themselves, flails in palps, against attack. But they were not given to violence. Indeed, they were known to speak against it. Kopporu looked again at the old gukuy.

A Pilgrim sage. I am certain of it.

Surely the Mother of Demons would not order a massacre in front of such.

Kopporu and Guo were now alone at the head of the column, except for Guo’s preconsorts. Kopporu could see Woddalukotat and Yurra, peering out from under Guo’s cowl.

Advise her, young males. Advise her.

When she was still a few goa from the Mother of Demons, Kopporu halted. Guo drew to a halt beside her.

The Mother of Demons advanced. Alone, Kopporu saw with surprise. Closer and closer, until she was standing at tentacle’s length away, directly in front of Kopporu.

“You are Kopporu, the battle leader of your army.”

Her voice was odd, and her accent harsh, but her command of Kiktu was excellent.

Kopporu made the gesture of affirmation.

“I am Inudiratoledo. The being who is sometimes called the Mother of Demons. You and I will speak at length, battle leader, and soon. But first, I must speak to another.”

Suddenly, in the quick and flickering manner of demons, she was standing in front of Guo. Very closely, looking up at the huge head of the battlemother looming above her.

Kopporu felt a moment’s fear. Guo’s maces were in their halters, of course—not even the young fool was so stupid as to have marched into the lair of the Mother of Demons with her maces in her palps. But she would not need maces. Whatever terrible power the Mother of Demons wielded, it was obviously not a power of the body. The Mother of Demons would be like a tiny slug in Guo’s great palps, her life crushed out of her body in a moment. With her arms alone, Kopporu thought, Guo could kill the Mother of Demons.