Rage Of A Demon King
by
Raymond E Feist


Rage of a Demon King

Serpentwar 3

Raymond E. Feist was born and raised in Southern California. He was
educated at the University of California, San Diego, where he graduated
with honours in Communication Arts. He is the author of the
bestselling and critically acdaiined Riftwar Saga (Magician,
Silverthorn and A Darkness at Sethanon), Prince of the Blood, Faerie
Tale and The King's Buccaneer and is co-author (with Janny Wurts) of
Daughter of the Empire, Servant of the Empire and Mistress of the
Empire. Feist lives with his wife, novelist Kathlyn Starbuck, and two
children, in Rancho Santa Fe, California.

ALSO BY RAYMONDE. FEIST

Magician silver thorn A Darkness at Sethanon

Faerie Tale

Prince of the Blood The King's Buccaneer

Shadow of a Dark Queen Rise of a Merchant Prince

WITH JAN NY WURTS:

Daughter of the Empire Servant of the Empire mistress of the Empire

MONDE. FEIST

Rage of a Demon King

Volume IH of the Serpentwar Saga

HarperCollinsPuNishers

Voyager An Imprint of HarperCollinsPubkhers 77-85 Fulham Palace Road,
Hammersmith, London W6 8JB

The Voyager World Wide Web site address is
http://~.harpercollins.co.uklvoyager

This paperback edition 1998 1 3 5 7 9 8 6 4 2

First published in Great Britain by voyager 1997

Copyright 0 Raymond E. Feist 1997

The Author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of
this work

ISBN 0 00 648298 8

Set in PostScript Meridien by Rowland Phototypesetting Ltd, Bury St.
Edmunds, Suffolk

Printed and bound in Great Britain by Caledonian International Book
Manufacturing Ltd, Glasgow

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,
stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any
means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise,
without the prior permission of the publishers.

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of
trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated
without the publisher's prior consent in any form of binding or cover
other than that in which it is published and without a similar
condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent
purchaser.

For Stephen A. Abrams, who knows more about Adkennia than I do

Acknowledgments

For reasons far too complex to detail, I am indebted to the following
people: To William Wright, Lou Aronica, and Mike Greenstein, for
bringing order out of chaos and getting the program pointed in the
right direction. To Adrian Zackheirn, for getting me to Hearst Books,
Robert Mccoy, for keeping the inertia heading in the right direction
and being the world's most indefatigable cheerleader; Liz Perle
McKenna, for taking time from a very busy schedule to keep a perplexed
author informed; and John Douglass, for some timely hand-holding. All
were my editors for a while during that chaos. To Jenifer Brehl, my
editor, for hitting the ground running and not missing a step. To
everyone else at Hearst Books/ Avon for getting behind the series. To
Jonathan Matson, for all the usual reasons. To my children, Jessica and
James, for showing me magic every day. And to my wife, Kathlyn
Starbuck, for more reasons than I could ever list here.

Raymond E. Feist Rancho Santa Fe, CA June 1996

Character List

Acaila leader of the el dar in the Elf Queen's court Aglaranna Elf
Queen in Elvandar, wife of Tomas, mother of Calin and Calis Akee Hadati hillman Alfred Corporal from Darkmoor Andrew priest of
Ban-Ath in Krondor Anthony magician at Crydee Avery, Abigail daughter of Roo and Karli Avery, Duncan cousin to Roo Avery, Helmut son to Roo and Karli Avery, Karli wife of Roo, mother of Abigail and
Helmut Avery, Rupert "Roo' young merchant of Krondor, son of Tom
Avery Borric King of the Isles, twin brother to Prince Erland, father
of Prince Patrick Brook First Officer, Royal Dragon Callin elf heir
to the throne of Elvandar, half-brother to Calis, son of Aglaranna and
King Aidan Calis -"The Eagle of Krondor," special agent of the Prince
of Krondor, Duke of the Court, son of Aglaranna and Tomas, half-brother
to Calin Chalmes ruling magician at Stardock d']Lyes, Robert magician from Stardock de Beswick Captain in King's Army de Savona,
Luis former soldier, assistant to Roo Dolgan King of the dwarves of
the west Dominic Abbot of Ishapian Abbey at Sarth Dubois, Henri poisoner from Bas-Tyra Duga mercenary Captain from Novindus Duko General in the Emerald Queen's Army Dunstan, Brian the Sagacious Man,
leader of the Mockers, used to be known as Lysle Rigger Erland brother to the King and Prince Nicholas, uncle to Prince Patrick
Esterbrook, Jacob wealthy merchant of Krondor, father of Sylvia
Esterbrook, Sylvia Jacob's daughter Fadawah General commanding the
Emerald Queen's Army . Freida - Erik's mother, wife of Nathan Galain elf in Elvandar Gamina adopted daughter of Pug and sister of William,
wife of James, mother of Arutha Garret Corporal in Erik's Company
Graves, Katherine Kitty girl thief in Krondor Greylock, Owen Captain in Prince's service, later General Gunther Nathan's
apprentice Hammond Lieutenant in King's Army H,anam - Loremaster of
the Saaur Harper Sergeant in Erik's Company Jacoby, Helen widow of
Randolph Jacoby, mother of Nataly and Willem James Duke of Krondor,
father to Arutha, grandfather to James and Dash Jameson, Arutha Lord
Vencar, Baron of the Prince's Court and son of Duke James Jameson,
Dashel MasW younger son of Arutha, gran son of James Jameson, James(
Jimmy- elder son of Arutha, grandson of James Kaleld ruling magician
at Stardock Livia ~ Daughter of Lord Vasarius Marcus Duke of Crydee,
cousin to Prince Patrick, son of Martin Martin former Duke of Crydee,
great uncle to Prince Patrick, father of Marcus milo owner of the Inn
of the Pintail in Ravensburg, father of Rosalyn Miranda magician and
ally of Calis and Pug Nakor the Isalani ~ gambler, magic user, friend
of Calis and Pug

Nathan blacksmith at the Inn of the Pintail in Ravensburg, former
master of Erik, married to Freida Nicholas Admiral of the Western
Fleet, Prince of the Royal Family, uncle to Prince Patrick Patrick Prince of Krondor, son of Prince Erland, nephew to the King and Prince
Nicholas Pug magician, Duke of Stardock, cousin to the King, father
to Gamina and William Reeves Captain of Royal Dragon Rosalyn Milo's
daughter, wife of Rudolph, mother of Gerd Rudolph baker in
Ravensburg, husband of Rosalyn, stepfather to Gerd Shati, Jadow Sergeant in Erik's Company Sho Pi former companion of Erik and Roo's,
student of Nakor's Subal Captain of the Royal Krondorian Pathfinders
Tlthulta - Pantathian high Priest Tomas - Warleader of Elvandar,
husband of Aglaranna, father of Calis, inheritor of the powers of
Ashen-Shugar Vasarlus - Quengan noble and merchant von Darkmoor, Erik soldier in Calis's Crimson Eagles von Darkmoor, Gerd son of Rosalyn
and Stefan von Darkmoor, nephew to Erik von Darkmoor, Manfred Baron
of Darkmoor, half brother to Erik von Darkmoor, Mathilda Baroness of
Darkmoor, mother to Manfred Vykor, Karole Admiral of the King's
Eastern Fleet William Knight-Marshal of Krondor, Pug's son and
Gamina's adopted brother, uncle to Jimmy and Dash

BOOK III

The Mad God's Tale

We are the music makers, We are the dreamers of dreams, Wandering by
lone sea-breakers, And sitting by desolate streams; World- losers and
world-forsakers, On whom the pale moon gleams: We are the movers and
shakers Of the world for ever, it seems.

Arthur William Edgar O'Shaughnessy Ode, st. 1

PROLOGUE

Breakthrough

The wall shimmered. In what had once been the throne room of Jarwa,
last Sha-shah an of the Seven Nations of the Saaur, the thirty-foothigh wall of stones opposite the empty seat of power seemed to waver,
then vanish as a black void appeared. Nightmare creatures gathered.

things of terrible fangs and ~nous claws. Some wore the faces of dead
animals, while others were humanlike in aspect. Some bore proud wings,
antlers, or bull's horns. All were beings of massive muscle and evil
intent, dark magic and murderous, nature. Yet all in the hall remained
motionless, terrified of that which was appearing on the other side of
the newly created gateway. Demons who stood as tall as trees crouched
low eying not to be seen. Immense energy was required to open a gate,
and for years the demons had been thwarted by the accursed priests of
the distant city of Ahsart. Only when the mad High Priest unsealed the
portal admitting the first demon to deny his city to the conquering
host of the Saaur, was the barrier breached. Now the world of Shila lay
in tatters, the remaining life reduced to lowly creatures at the sea
bottom, lichen clinging to rocks in crevices upon distant mountain
peaks, and tiny creatures that scuttled under rocks to avoid detection.

Anything larger than the smallest insect had been devoured. Hunger now
gripped the demon host, and again they returned to their ancient habit
of feeding upon one
ii
another. But internecine conflict was put aside among the elite of the
host as a new gate from the Fifth Circle to Shila was completed,
opening the way for the supreme ruler of the demon realm to
communicate. The demon without a name stood at the edge of those
summoned to "s once-grand hall. He peeked out from behind a stone
column, lest he call attention to himself. He had captured a unique
soul and had been harboring it, using it, becoming cunning and
dangerous. For unlike most of his brethren, he had discovered guile
worked better than confrontation in gaining valuable life force and
intelligence. He still showed the proper mix of fear and danger to
those directly above him, enough fear so they judged him under their
sway, yet dangerous enough for them to avoid attempting to consume him.

It was a perilous pose, and had he made one misstep, calling attention
to his uniqueness, those captains nearby would have destroyed him
utterly, for his mind was turning alien and was now self -aware enough
to be a threat to all of them. This demon knew he could easily defeat
at least four of the demons who presumed superiority and stood before
him, but to rise too quickly among the host was to call unwanted
attention to oneself. He had, during his short life, seen no fewer
than a half-dozen others rise too quickly, only to be destroyed by one
of the great captains, either against that day they might themselves be
challenged, or to protect a favored servant. Mightiest of these
captains was Tugor, First Servant of Great Maarg, who was now making
his will known. Tugor fell to his knees, placing his forehead to the
floor, and others followed his lead. The demon without a name heard a
faint voice and knew it came from the soul he had captured, and he
tried to ignore it, but it always said something he knew to be
important.

"Observe," he heard in his mind, as if it were a faint
whisper in hisear, or a thought of his own. i

A great rush of energies bathed the room as the shimmering wall seemed
to ripple outward, then vanish as a gate to the home realm opened. A
wind filled the chamber, from air sucked through the gap between
worlds, as if
everything in this hall were being urged to return to its home realm.

By their nature, demons instinctively felt an awareness of those far
mightier than themselves, and being close to Tugor caused the nameless
demon to nearly faint in terror. But the presence that emanated
through the rent in the fabric of space nearly reduced him to babbling
incoherence. All those present stayed on their knees, keeping foreheads
to the stones, save the nameless demon still hidden behind the column.

He watched as Tugor stood to face the void. From within the gap in the
wall came a voice that was filled with the echoes of rage and dread.

"Have you found the way?" Tugor said, "We have, most mighty! We have
sent two of our captains through the rift to Midkemia."

"What do they
report?"demanded the voice from beyond, and in it the nameless demon
detected a note of something besides anger and power, a hint of
desperation, perhaps.

"Dogku and Jakan do not report," responded Tugor.

"We know nothing. We believe they are unable to hold the portal."

"Then send another." ordered Maarg, Ruler of the Fifth Circle.

"I will
not cross until that way is clear; you've left nothing upon this world
that I may consume. Next time I open the way, I will cross, and if
there is naught for me to devour. I will eat your heart, Tugor!" The
sound of air being sucked from the room ceased as the rift between the
worlds closed. Maarg's voice hung in the air as the shimmering
vanished and the wall was as it had been before. Tugor rose up and
shouted in rage, venting his frustration. The others stood slowly, for
now would not be a

good time to draw the attention of the second most powerful among their
race. Tugor had been known to snap the heads from the shoulders of
those who appeared to be growing too powerful so that no rival would
appear who might contest his position. It was even rumored that Tugor
harbored his strength against the day when he might challenge Maarg for
supremacy among the race. Tugor turned and said, "Who goes next?"

Without quite knowing why, the nameless demon rose and came forward.

"I will go, lord." Tugor's visage, a horse skull with great horns, was
nearly expressionless, but what expression it was capable of reflected
puzzlement.

"Who are you, little fool?"

"I have no name yet Master,"
said the nameless one. Tugor took two large strides, pushing aside
several of his captains, to stand towering over the small demon.

"I
have sent captains, who have failed to return. Why should you succeed
where they did not?"

"Because I am meek and will hide and observe,
Master," the nameless one said quietly.

"I will gather intelligence,
and I will hide, harboring my strength, until I can reopen the portal
from the other side." Tugor paused a moment, as if considering, then
drew back his hand and struck the smaller demon driving him across the
room into the wall. The demon had small wings, not yet sufficient to
fly with, and they felt as if they had been broken by the impact of the
stone wall.

"That is for being presumptuous," said Tugor, his rage just
below the killing level.

"I shall send you," he said to his next more
powerful captain. Then he spun and grabbed another, ripping. out the
hapless demon's throat as he screamed, "And this is for the rest of you
for not showing as much courage." Some of the demons at the edge of the
group turned and fled the hall, while others fell to the stones,
throwing
themselves on the mercy of Tugor's whim. He was satisfied with killing
one of his brethren, and drank blood and life energy for a moment,
before tossing aside the now-empty husk of flesh.

"Go, said Tugor to the captain.

"The rift is in the distant hills, to
the cast. Those who guard it will tell you what you must know to
return ... if you are able. Return, and I will reward you." The
captain hurried from the hall. The small demon hesitated, then
followed, ignoring the fiery pain in his back. with food and rest, the
wings would heal. As he left the palace he was challenged twice by
other demons driven by hunger. He quickly killed them. Drinking their
fife energies caused the pain in his wings to fade, and as before, new
thoughts and ideas manifested themselves. He suddenly ]mew why he was
following the captain sent to reopen the rift. The voice that had once
come from the vial he wore around his neck, but that was now inside his
head, said, "We shall endure, then thrive, then we shall do what must
be done." The little demon hurried to the rift site, the location of
the fissure between worlds where the last of the Saaur horde had fled.

The little demon had learned things and knew that somehow an ally had
betrayed the demons, that this gate was to have remained open, but
instead had been closed. Twice it had been forced open, but closed
again quickly, for those on the other side used counter spells to keep
the portal sealed. At least a dozen powerful demons had died at
Tugor's hands because of the host's inability to cross. The captain
reached the portal site as a dozen other demons surrounded him.

Unnoticed, the little demon followed the larger as if accompanying him.

The rift site was unremarkable, a large patch of muddy earth, the grass
crushed by the passing of thousands of

Saaur horses and riders, their wives and children accompanying them.

Most of the grass surrounding the rift was withered and blackened by
the tread of demons, but tiny patches of green could be seen here and
there. Should the rift remain closed much longer, even those tiny
sources of life energy would be sought out and devoured. Squinting his
eyes, the tiny demon saw the strange twist in the energy that hung in
the air, difficult to notice unless one specifically looked for it.

What the Saaur and other mortal races called magic was but a shifting
of life energies to the demons, and some of these might die in opening
the rift. Until the wards on the other side were removed, it would be
impossible to keep the rift open for more than a few seconds at a time,
and many demons would die to achieve even two or three such passages.

No demon gave his life willingly it was not in their nature but all
feared Tugor and Maarg, and harbored the hope it would be the others in
their company who paid the ultimate price, while they survived to gain
reward. The captain commanded, "Open the way!" The demons given the
task glanced at one another, knowing that some would die in the
attempt, but at last they opened their minds and let the energies flow.

The little demon studied the air and saw the shimmering as the opening
appeared, and the captain crouched, timing his jump to the brief
opening. As he launched himself, while demons around the site screamed
and fell, the little demon leaped upon his back. Taken totally by
surprise, the captain bellowed his shock and outrage as they fell into
the rift. The urgency of the little demon's purpose helped him ignore
the disorientation, while it only added to the captain's surprise. As
they emerged into a dark and vast hall, the little demon bit as hard as
he could into the base of the captain's skull, where it met the neck,
the weakest point on his body insttantly an electric pulse flowed into
the little demon as the captain's outrage turned to terror and pain.

He flailed
about in the darkness, desperately seeking to dislodge the assassin.

The little demon clung viciously to his victim's back. Then the
captain flung himself back, attempting to crush the smaller demon
against the rock face of the cavern, but his own powerful wings
conspired to prevent that. Then the captain collapsed to his knees, and
at that moment the smaller demon knew he was victorious." Energy flowed
into him until he felt as if he might literally explode from it; he had
feasted to insensibility before on those he had taken, but never in one
feast had he consumed so much energy. He was now more powerful than
the one he fed upon. His legs, longer and more muscular than they had
been only a moment before, stood upon hard stone as he lifted his
diminishing victim, who now could only mew weakly as his life force was
drained. Soon it was over and the newly victorious demon stood in the
hall, almost drunk from the infusion of power. No food of flesh or
fruit, no drink of ale or wine could bring one of his kind to this
state. He wished for a Saaur looking glass, for he knew he was now at
least a head taller than a moment before. And upon his back he felt
the wings that would carry him through the sky one day begin to grow
again. But something distracted him, and he again felt alien thoughts
entering his mind.

"Observe and beware!" He turned and altered his
perceptions to pierce the darkness. t*

The vast hall was littered with the bodies of mortal creatures. He saw
both Saaur and those called Pantathians, and a third type of creature,
one unknown to him, smaller than the Saaur and larger than the
Pantathians. There was nothing left of their life energies and so he
quickly dismissed them. The wards were still in place, the barriers
that caused
l~

the death of those demons who attempted to pass through unaided. He
inspected them and saw that they should have been easily removed by
those demons sent before him. Again regarding the carnage in the room
he realized that great magic had been brought to bear to prevent the
demons who came before from destroying the wards. Then he wondered
what had happened to his brethren, for if they had been destroyed in
this battle, there would have been a lingering energy, but there was
none. Fatigued from his battle yet intoxicated with his new life force,
the demon reached to remove the first ward, but the alien voice said,
"Wait!" The demon hesitated, then reached down to the vial he wore
about his neck. Without considering the consequences, the newly
empowered demon opened the vial and the soul trapped within was loosed.

But rather than fly to join that great soul of his ancestors, the soul
in the vial passed into the demon. The demon shuddered, closing his
eyes as a new mind took control. Had the demon not been caught up in
the change after the victory, he would not have succumbed so easily to
the demand to free the soul in the vial, and had he not been so
disoriented, that other intelligence would not have been able to
achieve dominance. The mind now in charge of the demon reserved some
essence in the vial and replaced the stopper. Some of his essence must
remain apart from the demon, an anchor of sorts against the demands of
demon lust and appetite. Even with that anchor, withstanding the
demon's nature would be a continuous struggle. Seeing through nonhuman
eyes, the newly formed creature inspected the wards again, and, rather
than destroy them, he chanted an ancient Saaur summoning of magic and
strengthened them. The creature could only imagine the rage of Tugor
when the next messenger exploded into flaming agony upon attempting to
pass into this realm.

II

The setback would not keep the demons from entering this realm forever,
but it did gain this new creature valuable time. Flexing talons, and
then arms that seemed suddenly too long, the creature wondered about
the third race who lay dead upon the floor. Was it ally or foe to the
Pantathians
and their dupes, the Saaur? The creature put aside such considerations.

As the new mind, made up of the demon and the captured soul, melded
into one, knowledge unfolded. It sensed at least one or two mindless
demons wandering these halls and galleries of stone. It knew that the
wards had protected the little demon as he rode the back of the captain
through the rift, and that the captain had been stunned, robbed of wit
and rendered animal-like, no matter how powerful. But the creature that
had once been a demon knew that eventually, as the other demons already
here fed and grew in power, cunning, then intelligence would return.

And with memory would the need to return to this cavern and destroy the
wards, opening the way. First the creature must hunt down those demons,
ensuring that did not happen. Then would come another search.

"Jatuk."

The creature spoke the name softly aloud. The son of the last ruler of
the Saaur on the world of Shila would rule here, over the remnants of
the last Saaur host, and this creature had much to tell him. As the
melding continued, the demon's nature was controlled and contained,
then fused with that other intelligence. The father of Shadu who now
served Jatuk took control of this false body and moved toward a
tunnel. The mind of Hanam, last of the great Loremasters of the Saaur,
had found a way to cheat death and betrayal and would now find the last
of his people to warn them of the great deception that would doom
another world to destruction if not halted.

ONE

Krondor

Erik signaled. The soldiers knelt just below his position in the gully
watching as he silently motioned where he wanted each of them. Alfred,
now his first corporal, gestured from the far end of the line and Erik
nodded. Each man knew what to do. The enemy had camped in a relatively
defensible position on the trail north of Krondor. About three miles
up the road was the small town of Eggly, the objective of the invaders.

The enemy had stopped their march before sundown, and Erik was certain
they would launch an attack just before dawn. Erik had watched them
from his hidden vantage, his men camped a short distance away while he
decided his best course of action. He had observed the enemy erect
their camp and saw they had been as disorganized as he had suspected
they would be; their pickets were placed poorly, and were
undisciplined, spending as, much time looking into the camp to chat
with comrades as actually watching for an enemy approach. The constant
glances in the direction of the campfires were certainly diminishing
their night vision. After gauging the strength and position of the
invaders, Erik knew his choices. He had decided to strike first.

While outnumbered by at least five to one, his men would have the
advantage of surprise and superior training; at least, he hoped the
latter was true. Erik took a moment for one last inspection of the
enemy's

I4

position. If anything, the pickets were even more inattentive than
they had been when Erik had sent for his company. It was clear the
invaders thought their mission one of minor importance, taking a small
town off the beaten track, while major conflicts would be raging to the
south near the capital city of Krondor. Erik,was determined to teach
them that there were no minor Conflicts in any war. When his men were
in place, Erik slipped down a small defile, until he was almost within
touching distance of a bored guard. He tossed a small stone behind the
man, who looked without thought. As Erik knew would be the case, the
man glanced back into the camp, at the nearest campfire, which blinded
him for a moment. A soldier sitting near the fire said, "What is it,
Henry?" The guard said, "Nothing." He turned to find Erik standing
directly before him, and faster than he could shout alarm, Erik hit him
with his balled fist, catching him as he fell.

"Henry?" said the man at
the campfire, starting to rise, vainly trying to see into the gloom
beyond the campfire light. Erik attempted to imitate the guard's voice.

"I said, "Nothing." I The attempt failed, for the soldier started to
shout alarm and pulled on his sword. But before he could clear the
blade from his scabbard, Erik was upon him like a cat on a mouse.

Grabbing the man by the back of his tunic, Erik pulled him over
backward, slamming him hard into the ground. Putting a dagger at the
man's throat, he said, "You're dead. No noise." The man gave him a
sour look, but nodded. Softly he said, "Well, at least I get to finish
my supper." He sat up and returned to his dinner plate, while two other
men blinked in incomprehension as Erik circled the campfire and 'cut'
each of their throats before they realized an attack was under way.

I5

Shouts from around the camp announced that the rest of Erik's company
was now in force among the enemy, cutting throats, knocking down tents,
and generally creating havoc. The only prohibition Erik had put on
them was no fires. Although tempted, he thought the Baron of Tyr-Sog
would not appreciate the damage to his baggage.

Erik hurried through the struggle, dispatching sleeping soldiers as
they emerged from tents. He cut a few ropes, trapping soldiers inside
as the canvas fell upon them, and heard shouts of outrage from within.

Throughout the camp, men cursed as they were 'killed," and Erik could
hardly contain his amusement. The strike was fast and he was at the
center of the camp within two minutes of the start of the assault. He
reached the command tent as the Baron came out, obviously half-asleep
as he buckled his sword belt around his nightshirt, and clearly
displeased by the disruption.

"What have we here?" he demanded of
Erik.

"Your company is destroyed, my lord," said Erik with a light tap
of his sword upon the Baron's chest.

"And you are now dead." The Baron
studied the man who was sheathing his sword: he was tall, unusually
broad across the shoulders without being fat, like a young blacksmith,
with unremarkable features. His smile was engaging, however, friendly
and open. In the firelight his pale blond hair danced with ruby
highlights.

"Nonsense," said the stout Baron. His neatly trimmed beard
and fine silk nightshirt said volumes about his campaign experience.

"We were to attack Eggly tomorrow. No one said anything about this' he waved his hand around the campsite'business of a night attack.

Had we known, we would have taken precautions." Erik said, "My lord, we
are attempting to prove a point." A voice came out of the darkness.

"And you proved it well."

Owen Greylock, Knight-Captain of the Prince of Krondor' sRoyal
Garrison, came into the light. His gaunt features gave him a sinister
appearance in the dancing shadows of the firelight.

"I judge you've
killed or incapacitated three-quarters of the soldiers, Erik. How many
men did you bring?" Erik said, "Sixty."

"But I have three hundred."

said the Baron, clearly disturbed. With an auxiliary of Hadati
warriors." Erik glanced about and said, "I don't see any Hadati?" From
out of the dark came an accented voice.

"As it should be." A group of
men dressed in kilts and plaids entered the camp. They wore their hair
tied up high atop their heads in a knot, with a long fall of it
spilling down their backs.

"We heard your men approaching," said the
leader, looking at Erik, who wore an unmarked black tunic, and guessing
at his rank, "Captain?"

"Sergeant," corrected Erik.

"Sergeant," amended
the spokesman, a tall warrior who wore only a simple sleeveless tunic
above his kilt. His plaid would provide warmth in the mountains if
unrolled and worn around his shoulders. Below night-black hair, his
features were even, nothing out of the ordinary, save for dark eyes
that reminded Erik of a bird of prey's. In the campfire light, his
sun-darkened skin was almost red. Erik didn't need to see the man draw
the long blade he wore on his back to know him for a seasoned fighter.

"You heard us?" asked Erik.

"Yes. Your men are good, Sergeant, but we
Hadati live in the mountains often sleeping on the ground near our
herds and we know when we're hearing a group of men approach."

"What's your name?" asked Erik.

"Akee, son of Bandur." Erik nodded.

"We need to talk."

The Baron said, "I protest, Captain." Greylock said, "What, my lord?"

"I protest this unannounced action. We were told to play the role of
invaders and expect resistance by local militia and special units from
Krondor at the town of Eggly. Nothing was said of a night attack. Had
we known, we would have prepared for such!" he repeated. Erik glanced
at Owen, who signaled that Erik should
form up his company and depart while the Prince's KnightCaptain soothed
the ruffled feelings of the Baron of TyrSog. Erik motioned Akee to his
side and said, "Have your men gather their kits and find my corporal.

He's a nasty-looking thug named Alfred. Tell him you'll be coming with
us to Krondor in the morning."

"Will the Baron approve?" asked Akee.

"Probably not," answered Erik, turning away.

"But he doesn't have much
to say about it. I'm the Prince of Krondor's man." The Hadati hillman
shrugged and motioned to his companions. Let those men free."

"Free?" asked Erik. Akee smiled.

"We captured a few of those you sent
to the south, Sergeant. I believe your ugly thug may be among them."

Erik let fatigue and the pressure of the night's exercise get the
better of his usually calm nature. Swearing softly, he said, "If he
is, he'll regret it." Akee shrugged, turning to his companions and
saying, "Let's go see." Erik addressed another of his company, a
soldier named Shane.

"Get the men formed up at the south end of the
camp." Shane nodded and started shouting orders. Erik followed the
Hadati to a point outside the perimeter of the Baron's camp and found a
pair of Hadati sitting next to Corporal Alfred and a half-dozen of
Erik's best men.

"What happened?" Erik asked. Alfred sighed as he stood.

"They're good,
Sergeant." He pointed to a ridge above them.

"They must have moved the
second they heard us coming, 'cause we were up there on that ridge, and
I would have wagered everything I own it wasn't possible the)) could
have come up out of that camp, crossed the ridge, lay low, then come up
behind us as we headed down." He shook his head.

"We were being tapped
on the shoulder before we heard them." Erik turned to Akee.

"You'll
have to tell me how you did that." Akee shrugged, saying nothing. To
Alfred, Erik said, "These hill men are coming with us. Take them down
to the camp and let's get back to Krondor." Alfred smiled, forgetting
the tongue-lashing he was likely to receive from Erik when they were
back at the garrison.

"A hot meal," he said. Erik was forced to agree
it would be welcome. They had been out on maneuvers for a week, eating
cold rations in the dark, and his men were tired and hungry.

"Get
moving' was all he said. Standing in the dark, Erik considered what was
at stake in the impending war, and wondered if a hundred such exercises
would prepare the men of the Kingdom for what was to come. Tossing
aside such concern, he conceded that probably nothing would prepare
them fully, but what other choice did he have? He considered that
Calis, Prince Patrick, Knight-Marshal William, and other commanders
were operating throughout these mountains, conducting such exercises
this week; at the end of the week a council would be held to tally what
needed to be done. Erik said to himself, "Everything, everything needs
to be done," and he realized his black mood was due more to fatigue and
hunger than to Alfred's failing to avoid the Hadati ambush. Then he
smiled. If the hill men from north

em Yabon had gotten up over that ridge that fast, it was a good thing
they were going to be on the Kingdom's side, and even better, thought
Erik, under his command. He turned toward the camp and decided he'd
better join

Greylock in mollifying the distressed Baron of Tyr-Sog.

The soldiers stood to attention as the courtyard resounded with the
echo of their boot heels striking cobbles as one, and each man stood
motionless while the Prince of Krondor made his appearance on the dais.

Roo looked at his friend Erik and said, "Nicely done." Erik shook his
head, indicating that Roo should keep silent. Roo grinned but stayed
quiet while Prince Patrick, ruler of Krondor, accepted a salute from
the assembled garrison of the palace. Next to Erik stood Calis,
Captain of the Prince's special guards known as the Crimson Eagles.

Erik shifted his weight slightly, uncomfortable with the attention
being drawn to him and the others. The survivors of the most recent
expedition to the distant land of Novindus were being presented with
awards for bravery, and Erik wasn't sure what that entailed, but he
knew he would prefer being back about his usual duties. He had returned
from the exercises in the mountains expecting a quick council, but
Calis had informed Erik and the others that with Prince Erland's return
from a visit to his brother King Borric, a ceremony was scheduled and
awards would be conferred, but beyond that, Erik knew little. He
glanced sideways and saw his Captain, Calis, also looking impatient to
see the fuss over with. Renaldo, one of the other survivors, turned to
look at Micha. Both soldiers had accompanied Calis on their flight
from the halls of the Pantathian serpent priests. Renaldo had his
chest puffed out as the Prince of Krondor presented him with an award,
the White Cord of Courage, which would be sewn to his tunic sleeve,
marking him a man who displayed conspicuous bravery for King and
Country.

Roo had sailed one of his largest ships to Novindus to bring the
Kingdom soldiers home. Erik and his companions had rested and healed
on the return journey. Their Captain, the enigmatic man reputed to be
a half-elf, was almost completely recovered from injuries that would
have killed any other man. Two old companions of his, Praji and Vaja,
had died in the magical blast that had caught Calis, and half his body
had been burned as if set on fire. Yet he hardly showed the slightest
scar, his face and neck only marked by flesh just a little lighter in
color than the rest of his sun-bronzed skin- Erik wondered if he would
ever know the full truth about the man he served. And thinking of
enigmas, Erik regarded another of his companions over the last few
years, the odd gambler, Nakor. He stood apart from those being
honored, a half mocking grin on his face as he watched the award
ceremony. At his side stood Sho Pi, the former monk who now regarded
himself as Nakor's acolyte. They had been residing in the palace as
the guests of the Duke of Krondor for the last month, Nakor showing
little motivation to return to his usual occupation, fleecing the
unsuspecting in card rooms across the Kingdom. Erik let his mind wander
as the Prince cited each man, and he wondered who would honor those who
were left behind, particularly Bobby de Loungville, the iron-tough,
unforgiving sergeant who, more than any other, had forged Erik into the
soldier he had become. Erik felt a tear gather in his eye as he
recalled holding Bobby in the ice cave in the mountains as his lungs
filled with blood from a sword wound. Silently Erik said to himself,
See, I got him out alive. Blinking away the tear, Erik once again
glanced at Calis and found the Captain watching him. With a barely
perceptible nod, Calis seemed to say he knew what Erik was thinking,
and was also remembering lost friends. The ceremony dragged on, then
suddenly it was over,

2I

the assembled garrison of the palace in Krondor dismissed.

Knight-Marshal William, Military Commander of the Principality,
motioned for Erik and the others to attend him. To Calis he said, "The
Prince asks you all to join him in his
private council room." Erik glanced at Roo, who shrugged. On the
return voyage, the two boyhood friends had caught up with each other's
news. Erik had been half-amused, half-astonished to discover that his
best friend had, in less than two years, contrived to become one of
Krondor's preeminent merchants and one of the Kingdom's richest men.

But as he saw the ship's master and crew snap to every order Roo gave,
he realized that Rupert Avery, barely more than a common thief as a
child, and hardly more than a boy now, truly owned that ship. Erik had
told Roo of what he and the others had discovered, and he needed no
embellishment to convey the horror and disgust he felt at fighting
through the Pantathian birthing halls. Of those who had not traveled
to Novindus with Calis on his most recent journey, Roo, Nakor, and Sho
Pi had been there previously, and knew what the others faced. Slowly,
over the voyage, Erik had provided enough grisly details about the
slaughter of Pantathian females and infants, as well as about the
mysterious 'third player' who had accomplished more carnage than
Calis's raiders ever could have done. Unless there were birthing
craches located elsewhere and it seemed unlikely the only living
Pantathians were those close to the Emerald Queen. If they were
finally defeated in the coming battle, the Pantathian serpent priests
would cease to exist, a fate most fervently hoped for by the two
boyhood friends from Darkmoor. Roo and Erik had parted almost as soon
as the ship had berthed, as Roo had businesses to oversee. Two days
later, Erik had left on maneuvers, evaluating the training Jadow Shati
had inflicted upon the men in training while Calis

had been gone. Erik was pleased that the new men under his command for
the last week were as disciplined and reliable as those he had trained
with when he had been a common soldier. Entering the palace, Erik was
again uncomfortable at finding himself in the halls of power and in the
presence of the great of the Kingdom. He had served for a year in
Krondor before leaving with Calis on the last voyage, but had confined
himself to the training grounds most of the time. He came to the
palace proper only when summoned or to borrow a book on tactics or some
other aspect of war craft from Knight-Marshal William. He was never
comfortable with the supreme commander of the King's Armies of the
West, but he finally grew used to spending hours over ale or wine
discussing what he had read and how it would bear on the armies he was
helping to fashion. But, given a choice, Erik would rather be in the
drilling yard, working with the armorers around the forge, or tending
to the horses, or most of all, out in the field, where life was too
demanding to think much about the larger consequences of the coming
war. In the Prince's private chamber actually, Erik thought, a small
hall other men waited, including Lord James, Duke of Krondor, and
Jadow Shati, the other sergeant in Calis's company. Erik expected
Jadow would be promoted to Sergeant Major to replace Bobby. Upon the
table a lavish board of cheeses, meats, fruit, bread, and vegetables
had been laid out. Ale, wine, and frosted pitchers of fruit juices
were also waiting.

"Set to," said the Prince of Krondor, removing his
ceremonial crown and mantle and handing them to waiting pages. Calis
picked up an apple and bit into it while others moved around the table.

Erik motioned to Roo, who came over to him.

"How did you find things at
home?" Erik asked. Roo said, "The children are ... amazing. They've
grown

so much in the months I was gone I scarcely recognize them." His face
creased in a thoughtful expression.

"My business endured my absence
well enough, though not as well as I expected. Jacob Esterbrook had
the better of me three times while I was gone. One transaction cost me
a small fortune."

"I thought you and he were friends," said Erik,
taking a bite of bread and cheese.

"In a manner of speaking," said Roo. He had thought better of
mentioning his relationship to Sylvia Esterbrook, Jacob's daughter,
given that Erik tended to have a narrow view of family and vows of
faithfulness. ""Friendly competitors" would be a more accurate
description. He has a stranglehold on trade to Kesh and seems
reluctant to relinquish even a small part of it." Calis came up to them
and said, "Roo, will you excuse us a moment?" Rupert nodded, said, "Of
course, Captain," and walked over to the table to take advantage of the
fare. Calis waited until they were out of earshot before he asked,
"Erik, has Marshal William had a chance to talk to you today?" Erik
shook his head.

"No, Captain. I was busy getting back into the rhythm
of things with Jadow ... now that Bobby's no longer here..." He
shrugged.

"I understand." Calis turned and motioned for the
Knight-Marshal, who joined them. Calis looked at Erik.

"You've got a
choice." William, a short, slender man whom Erik knew to be one of the
best riders and swordsmen in the Kingdom despite his advancing age,
said, "Calis and I have talked about you, youngster. With things ...
as they are, we have more opportunities than we have men with talent."

Erik knew what William had meant by 'things as they are," for he knew
that a terrible army was massing across

the sea and would be invading in less than two years' time.

"Choice?"

"I'd like to offer you a staff position," said William.

"You'd hold
the rank of Knight-Lieutenant in the Prince's army, and I'd put you in
charge of the Krondorian Heavy Lance. Your skill with horses well, I
can't think of a better man for the job." Erik glanced at Calis.

"Sir?"

"I'd like you to stay with the Crimson Eagles," said Calis m a
flat tone.

"Then I'll stay," said Erik without hesitation.

"I made a
promise." William smiled ruefully.

"I thought as much, but I had to
ask."

"Thank you for asking, m'lord," said Erik, "I'm flattered."

William grinned at Calis.

"You must use magic. He's half way to being
the best tactician I've ever met and if he keeps studying he will be
the best and you want to waste him as a bully sergeant." Calis smiled
slightly, an expression of wry amusement Erik had, come to know well.

The half -elven Captain said, "We have more need of bully sergeants to
train soldiers right now than we do tacticians, Willy. Besides, my
bully sergeants are not the same as yours." William shrugged.

"You're
right, of course, but when they come, each of us is going to want the
best we can find at our side."

"I can't argue that." William left and
Calis said, "Erik, thank you. Erik repeated, "I made a promise."

"To
Bobby?" asked Calis. Erik nodded. Calis's expression darkened.

"Well,
knowing Bobby, I'd best tell you now, I need a sergeant major, not a
nursemaid. You kept me alive once, Erik von Darkmoor, so consider your
promise to Bobby de Loungville discharged

in full. If it comes to a choice between my life and the survival of
the Kingdom, I want you to make the right
choice." It took Erik a moment to comprehend what had just been said.

"Sergeant major?"

"You're taking Bobby's place," said Calis.

"But Jadow
has been with you longer' Erik began.

"But you have the knack,"
interrupted Calis.

"Jadow doesn't. He'll do fine as a sergeant you
saw how the new men are shaping up but promoting him any higher would
put him in a situation where he would be a liability instead of an
asset." He studied Erik's face a moment.

"William wasn't overstating
the case about your abilities as a tactician. We'll need to work on
your comprehension of strategy as well. You know what's coming and you
know that once the struggle begins, you may find yourself out there
with hundreds of men looking to you to keep them alive. An ancient
Isalani general called it the "fog of battle," and men who can keep
other men alive while chaos erupts around them are rare." Erik could
only nod. He and the others around him who had traveled with Calis had
seen the army of the Emerald Queen, had been a part of it for a time,
and he knew that when that host of hired killers arrived on the shores
of the Kingdom, chaos would ensue. In the midst of that chaos, only
well-trained, disciplined, hard men might survive. And it would be upon
those men that the fate of the Kingdom and the rest of the world of
"Midkemia would rest, not on the Kingdom's traditional armies.

"Very
well, Captain. I accept," said Erik. Calis smiled and put his hand
upon Erik's shoulder.

"You didn't have a choice, Sergeant Major. Now
you need to Promote some men, we need one more sergeant for the balance
of this year, and a half-dozen corporals besides."

"Alfred of
Darkmoor," said Erik.

"He was a corporal and

a bully until I got through with him. He's ready to take on the
responsibility, and at heart he's still a brawler and we'll need that
when the time comes."

"You have that right," said Calis.

"Every man a
brawler, for that matter." Erik said, "I suppose we have enough
potential corporals around. I'll make up a list this evening." Calis
nodded.

"I must talk to Patrick before this turns into a full-blown
reception. Excuse me." Roo returned when he saw Calis leave, and
asked, "Well, did you get promoted or did Jadow?"

"I did," answered
Erik.

"My condolences," said Roo. Then he grinned and struck his
friend on the arm.

"Sergeant Major."

"What about you?" asked Erik.

"You were telling me how things are at home." Roo smiled weakly and
shrugged.

"Karli is still upset I took off to go after you on such
short notice, and she was right: the children don't recognize me,
though Abigail does call me daddy, and little Helmut just gives shy
grins and gurgles." He sighed.

"I got a warmer welcome from Helen
Jacoby, truth to tell."

"Well, from what you told me, she is in your
debt. You could have turned her and her children out on the streets."

Roo chewed on a piece of fruit a moment.

"Not really.

Her husband had no part in the plot to kill my father-'in-law." He
shrugged.

"I've got a few loose ends to tie up; Jason, Duncan, and
Luis have been careful in seeing to my company while I was gone, and my
partners in the Bitter Sea Company haven't robbed me too outrageously."

He grinned.

"At least, I haven't found any proof yet." His expression
turned serious again.

"And I also know that this army you're about to
become a significant part of will need provisions, weapons, and armor.

Those don't come cheaply."

Erik nodded.

"I have some small idea of how we're going to meet the
Emerald Queen, and while we'll never put as large a force in the field
as she will send against us, we'll have to mount the most ambitious
campaign since the Riftwar, and one never matched before."

"How many men under arms do you think?"

"I'm speculating," said Erik.

"But at least fifty, sixty thousand more than the current armies of the
East and West."

"That's close to a hundred thousand men." said Roo.

"Do we have that many?"

"No." Erik shook his head.

"We have twenty
thousand in all the Armies of the West, including the ten thousand
directly under the Prince's command. The Armies of the Fast number
more, but many of them are honor garrisons. With our long-term peace
with Roldem, the other eastern kingdoms are calm, not willing to try
anything without Roldem distracting us." Erik shrugged.

"Too much time
spent with Lord William, I guess, talking strategy ... We now must
start building for the battle here." With a shake of his head he said
softly, "We lost too many of our key men on our last trips to
Novindus." Roo nodded.

"There is a large debt to be repaid to that
green bitch." Then he sighed audibly.

"And a huge billing to finance
it." Erik smiled.

"Our Duke is getting into your pocket?" Roo returned
the smile, though his was far more wry.

"Not yet. He's made it clear
that taxes will remain reasonable because he expects me to underwrite a
large portion of the coming fight and to convince others, like Jacob
Esterbrook, to provide funds as well." Mentioning Esterbrook, Roo again
thought of his daughter, Sylvia, Roo's mistress for the better part of
a year before his sailing to rescue Erik, Calis, and the others. He
had seen her only once since returning two weeks ago, and he was
planning on seeing her tonight; he ached for her.

"I think I should
call upon Jacob soon," he said as if the
thought had just come to him.

"If he and I together agree to
participate in financing the war, no one else of importance in the
Kingdom would refuse the Prince's request." Dryly he added, "After all,
if we fail in this, repayment of loans will be the last of our
worries." Then he whispered in a somber tone, "Ass~=g we can worry
about anything." Erik nodded noncommittally. He had to admit that Roo
had proven beyond any doubt he understood matters of finance far better
than Erik and, should his phenomenal success be any indication, better
than most of the businessmen in the Kingdom. Roo said, "I should make
my excuses to the Prince and get about my own business. I suspect
those of us here who are not part of your military inner circle will be
asked to find other things to go do soon, anyway." Erik took his hand.

"I think you're right." Other nobles, not part of the military, were
presenting themselves to the Prince. Roo left his boyhood friend and
joined the line of those begging the Prince's leave to depart, and soon
only the Prince, his senior advisers, and members of the military
remained. When Owen Greylock entered. Patrick said, "We're now all
here." Knight-Marshal William motioned for them to gather around a
circular table at the far end of the room. Duke James sat to his
Prince's right, and William to the left. It was the Duke who began.

"We]J, now that the pomp is over, we can get back to the bloody work
ahead of us." Erik sat back and listened to the plans for the final
defense of the Kingdom begin to take shape.

Roo reached the gate where his horse was waiting for him. He had left
his carriage at home for his wife's use, for he had moved his family to
an estate outside the gates of the city. While he preferred the
convenience of his town house, across the street from Barret's Coffee
House where
most of his business day was spent the country house offered a
tranquillity he couldn't have imagined before the move. He had grounds
for hunting if he chose, and a stream with fish, and all the other
advantages granted to the nobility and rich commoners. He knew he
would have to find time soon to enjoy those pastimes. Not yet
twenty-three years of age, Roo Avery was the father of two, one of the
richest merchants in the Kingdom,

and privy to secrets shared by few. The country house was also a
hedge, as the gamblers called it, a place from which his family could
escape the oncoming invasion to safer refuge to the east before the mob
fled the city, trampling everything in its path. Roo had endured the
destruction of Maharta, the distant city crushed three years before by
the armies of the Emerald Queen. He had been forced to fight his way
through the mass of panic-stricken dtizens, had seen innocents die
because they were in the wrong place. He vowed he would spare his
children that horror, no matter what else might come. He knew what he
had been told, years before, along with the rest of Calis's company, on
the shore of that distant land called Novindus, that should the Kingdom
of the Isles not prevail, all life as they knew it would cease on
Midkemia. He still couldn't accept that deep within, but he acted as
if it were true. He had seen too many things on his trip south to know
that even if the Captain's clahns were overblown, life under the yoke
of the Emerald Queen's advancing army would bring only a choice between
death and slavery. He also knew that if that event should come to pass
which the Captain warned of, the invading army reaching some unnamed
goal, then whatever preparations he made would be meaningless. But
short of that, he was determined to take whatever steps necessary to
keep his wife and children alive and away from harm. He had purchased
a town house in Salador, presently used by an agent he

had hired to run his affairs in the Eastern Realm, and he would
probably buy another in the city of Ran, on the Kingdom'seastern
frontier. He was next going to inquire of foreign agents in the East
about the availability of property in distant Roldem, the island
kingdom most closely allied with the Kingdom of the isles. Gathering
his thoughts, he realized he was halfway to his office. He had told
Karli he would spend the night at the town house, claiming that the
affairs at the palace would force him to work late into the night. The
truth was he was going to send a message to Sylvia Esterbrook, asking
to see her tonight. Since returning from rescuing Erik and the others,
he had thought of little else. images of her body haunted his dreams,
and memories of her scent and the soft feel of her skin made him unable
to think of more important things. The one night he had spent with her
after his return only reinforced his hunger to be with her. He reached
his office and rode through the gate, past workmen hurriedly attempting
to finish the improvements to the property he had ordered when first
back from his sea voyage. A second story was being added to the old
warehouse, a loft, actually, where he could conduct business without
being on the busy warehouse floor. His staff was growing and he needed
more room. He had already made an offer for a piece of property
adjoining his at the rear, and would have to completely tear down an
old block of apartments rented to workmen and their families, and then
build new facilities. He paid too much, he knew, but he was desperate
for the space. He dismounted and motioned for one of the workers to
take his horse.

"Give him some hay; no grain,"he instructed as he made
his way past wagons being loaded and unloaded.

"Then saddle another
horse and have it ready for me." Workers repairing broken wheels. and
replacing shoes on draft animals set up a raucous hammering, and men
shouted instructions to one another across the floor.

3I

overseeing the chaos were two men, Luis de Savona, Roo's companion from
the early days of Calis's 'company of desperate men," and Jason, a
former waiter at Barret's who had been the first there to befriend Roo,
and who was also a genius with figures. Roo smiled.

"Where's
Duncan?"

Luis shrugged.

"Abed with some whore, probably." It was midday, and
Roo shook his head. His cousin was reliable in certain ways, but in
others he had no sense of loyalty. Still, there were only a handful of
men in the world Roo would trust at his back in a knife fight, and
Duncan was one of them.

"What news?" asked Roo. Jason held out a large
document.

"Our attempt to establish a regular route to Great Kesh is
"under consideration," according to this very wordy document that just
arrived from the Keshian Trade Legate's office. We are, however,
welcome to bid on odd jobs as they come to our attention."

"He said
that?"

"Not in so many words," said Luis.

"Since we took over the
operation of Jacoby and Sons, I halfway expected we'd keep their
regular clients."

"We have," said Jason, 'except for the Keshian
merchants." He shook his head, his young features a mask of solemnity.

"Once it became known you'd taken over on Helen Jacoby's behalf, every
Keshian trading concern began canceling contracts as fast as possible."

Roo frowned. Tapping his chin with his finger, he asked, "Who's
getting those contracts?" Luis said, "Esterbrook." Roo turned and
stared at his friend, who continued.

"At least, either companies he
holds a minor interest in, or ones owned by men he has major influence
over. You know he was doing a lot of business with the Jacobys before
you finished with them." Roo glanced at Jason.

"What did you find when
you went over the Jacoby accounts?"

Jason had thoroughly investigated all those accounts while Roo had
sailed across the sea to rescue Erik. Roo had killed Randolph and
Timothy Jacoby when they had tried to ruin him, and rather than put
Randolph Jacoby's wife, Helen, and their children out on the streets,
he had agreed to run Jacoby and Sons on her behalf. Jason said,
"Whatever business Jacoby and Esterbrook had, there was little record
keeping involved. There were some minor contracts, but nothing out of
the ordinary, just a few odd personal notes I can't make sense of. But
one thing doesn't fit."

"What?" asked Roo.

"The Jacobys were too rich.

There was gold accounted to them in several counting houses that ...
well, I don't know where it came from. I have accounts going back ten
years' he waved at a pile of ledgers on the floor nearby 'and
there's just no source for it." Roo nodded.

"Smuggling." He remembered
his first confrontation with Tim Jacoby, over some smuggled silk Roo
had managed to get his hands on.

"How much gold?" Jason said, "More
than thirty thousand sovereigns, and I haven't found every account
yet." Roo considered silently for a minute.

"Don't say anything about
this to anyone. If you have any reason to speak to Helen Jacoby, just
tell her things are going better than we had thought. Keep it vague,
just enough solid information to reassure her that she and her children
are protected for life, no matter what happens to me. And ask her if
she needs anything."

"Aren't you going to see her?" asked Luis.

"Soon."

He glanced around.

"We need to build more resources, and fast, so
start keeping your ears open for businesses we can buy into or take
over outright. But keep it quiet; any mention of the name Avery and
Son or the Bitter Sea Company and prices will rise faster than a spring
flood." The others acknowledged his instructions, and Roo
ii
said, "I'm going next to Barret's, to see my partners, and if I'm
needed, that's where you'll find me for the balance of the day." Roo
left his associates and mounted his fresh horse. As
he considered what he had been told, he reached Barret's coffee House
before he knew it. Roo dismounted, tossing the reins to one of the
waiters. He pulled a silver coin from his vest and handed it to the
boy.

"Stable him behind my house, Richard." The youngster led the
mount away, smiling. Roo made it a point to remember the names of all
the wait staff at Barret's and to tip lavishly. He had been employed
there only three years before and knew how difficult the work could be.

Besides, if he needed something from a waiter, a message carried
across town or a special dish prepared for a business associate, he got
quick service in exchange for his largesse. Roo moved past the first
rail as another waiter quickly opened the gate for him, then made his
way to the stairs up to the balcony overlooking the central part of the
floor. Its partners, Jerome Masterson and Stanley Hume, were waiting
for him. He took his seat and said, "Gentlemen?" Jerome said, "Rupert.

A pleasant morning to you." Hume echoed the greeting, and they began
to conduct the morning business of the Bitter Sea Company, the largest
trading concern in the Kingdom of the Isles.

TWO

) Warning

Erik fumed. He had spent the day working on a plan to employ the Hadati
hill men he had taken from the Baron of Tyr-Sog, only to be told they
had left the Prince's castle, and no one seemed sure where they had
gone or at whose orders. He had finally ended up outside the office of
the Knight Marshal of Krondor, who was ensconced within his private
chamber in a meeting with Captain Calis. Finally a clerk indicated Erik
could enter, and both William and Calis greeted him.

"Sergeant Major,"
said William, indicating an empty chair.

"What can I do for you?"

"It's about the Hadati, m'lord," said Erik, not taking the seat.

"What
about them?" asked Calis.

"They're gone."

"I know," said Calis with a
faint smile. Erik said, "What I mean is, I had plans Knight-Marshal
William held up his hand.

"Sergeant Major, whatever plans you had are
certainly similar to our own. However, your particular talents aren't
needed in that area." Erik's eyes narrowed.

"In what area?"

"Teaching
hill men how to fight in the hills," said Calis. He motioned for Erik
to sit, and Erik did as he was instructed. William pointed to a map on
the wall across the room.

"We've got a thousand miles of hills and
mountains run

ning from just north of the Great Star Lake up to Yabon, Sergeant.

We're going to need men who can live up there without supplies from
Krondor." Erik said, "I know, m'lord' William interrupted him again.

"Those men already meet our needs." Erik was silent a moment, then
said, "Very well, m'lord. But, for my curiosity's sake, where are
they?"

"On their way to a camp north of Tannerus. To meet with Captain
Subai."

"Captain Subai?" asked Erik. The man named was head of the
Royal Krondorian Pathfinders, an elite scouting unit that traced its
lineage back to the Kingdom's first foray
into the West. They had long since changed their mission of being
trail breakers and explorers; they now served as long-range military
scouts and intelligence officers.

"You're turning them over to the
Pathfinders?" 'in a manner of speaking," said Calis. He sounded tired,
and Erik studied his leader's features. There were dark smudges under
his eyes, as if he hadn't slept much in recent days, and his face was a
bit more pinched than usual. Those signs might go unnoticed, by
someone who hadn't spent every waking moment for months in Calis's
company, but to Erik they communicated much: Calis was worried and was
working late into the night. Erik suppressed a rueful smile. He had
started to think like the very nursemaid Calis had warned him not to
become, and besides, he was just as guilty of overwork as his leader.

Calis spoke: "We need couriers and exploring officers." This was a term
new to Erik.

"Exploring officers?" he asked.

"It's a madman's job,"
offered Calis.

"You pack your horse with a few rations and a canteen
of water, then you ride like hell through the enemy's pickets, move
behind their lines, stay alive, meet with agents and spies,
occasionally
assassinate someone or burn down a stronghold, and otherwise wreak
havoc wherever you can."

"You forgot the important part," offered
William.

"Staying alive. Getting back with what you know is more
important than all the rest."

"Information," said)Calis.

"Without it,
we're blind." Erik realized with a sudden clarity that what he had
lived through on two journeys to Novindus the hardships, the loss of
good men was all to return with vital information. As with many
things that Erik had learned in the military, he thought he understood
something only to discover later he possessed merely a surface
apprehension of the way things were, as a deeper appreciation of the
topic seemed to unfold in his mind. Tactics and strategy were like
that. William kept telling him he had a knack, yet often Erik felt
stupid, as if he were missing the obvious. Almost blushing, Erik said,
"I understand."

"I'm sure you do," said William said, "We're delighted
to put the Hadati to such rs. use, though they will likely be used as
scouts and courie few of them are competent enough horsemen to serve as
explorers."

"I can train them," said Erik, suddenly interested.

"Perhaps. But we've got some Inonian mountain rangers coming in from
the East. They are experienced riders." Erik had seen the occasional
Inonian in Darkmoor. Swarthy, tough little men from the inonia region
along the coast of the Kingdom Sea nearest the southeastern borders
with Kesh. they were reputed to be as fierce in their ability to
defend their mountain highlands as the Hadati or dwarves. Erik knew
them firsthand only for the excellent wines they traded in exchange for
Darkmoor's best; their wines were distinctive, using different
varieties of grapes from those found in Darkmoor, often spiced or
treated with resins or honey. but treasured for that very difference.

The Inonians also produced the finest olive oil

known, and that was the primary source of their prosperity. From what
I understand," offered Erik, "Inonian horsemen are able enough."

"In
the mountains," said William, standing up as if to
throw off the weight of fatigue.

"Hit and run tactics are the rule.

They also don't marshal many men at a time, doing most of their damage
with a dozen or fewer raiders." He waved to a bookshelf on the opposite
side of his office.

"We have at least one account of the Kingdom's
conquest of their region in there. They have some nasty tricks that
may help us when the invaders get here." He stretched.

"They ride
small, tough ponies, and getting them to accept our faster horses may
take some doing; you may have to give them some instruction, too."

Calis grinned, and Erik knew without being asked that the eastern hill
fighters were unlikely to take being trained gracefully.

"But for the
moment," the Captain said, 'you're to head back into the hills with
another batch of soldiers."

"Again?" Erik barely suppressed a groan.

"Again," said Calis.

"Greylock and Jadow have got sixty survivors of
their boot camp they swear will take to your training like a baby to
the teat. You and Alfred and another six of your men will take them
out tomorrow morning." William said, "Teach them everything you can,
Sergeant Major."

"And keep your eye out for potential corporals," Calis
added.

"We need more sergeants, too."

"Yes, sir." Erik rose, saluted,
and turned to leave. Calis said, "Erik?"

"Yes?" asked Erik as he paused
at the door.

"Why don't you go out tonight and have some fun? You look
like hell. Consider that an order." Erik shrugged, shook his head, and
said, "You're no daisy."

Calis smiled.

"I know. I'm taking a long hot bath; then I'm turning
in early tonight." William said, "Go find a girl and a drink and
relax." Erik left the Knight-Marshal's office and moved to his own
quarters. He had been working in the marshalling yard all day, and if
he was going anywhere he wanted to bathe and change. After his bath and
in a fresh tunic, he felt hunger and considered heading to the mess.

He weighed his choices and decided a meal in town might be just the
thing. Erik decided to walk to the Broken Shield, the inn operated by
Lord James for the men, giving them a place to drink and meet the
whores hand-selected by the Duke to ensure no one said anything to a
potential agent of the enemy. Evening was falling and the city was
ablaze in torch and lantern light as Erik reached the inn. James had
picked a location far enough from the palace to look a likely hangout
for soldiers wishing to be away from the scrutiny of their officers,
yet close enough that a message would reach anyone in minutes. Only
Erik, the officers, and a few others realized that every person within
the inn was an agent or employee of the Duke. Kitty waved as Erik
entered the room and he found himself smiling at her. He had been the
one who had told the girl of Bobby deLoungville'ss death and since then
he had looked in on her from time to time. She had shown no reaction
to the news, excusing herself for a few minutes, and when she had
returned, only slightly red eyes had betrayed her feelings. Erik
suspected the former thief had been in love with the man who had held
the position of Sergeant Major before him. Bobby had been a difficult,
even cruel, man at times, but he had treated the young girl with
nothing but respect since she had come to the inn Erik had asked James
if the girl did more than tend bar,

but the Duke had simply replied he was pleased with the girl's services
since she had become one of his agents. Erik knew her primary job was
to keep alert for any Mocker, a member of the Guild of Thieves of
Krondor, attempting to enter the Broken Shield.

"What's new?" asked
Erik as he reached the bar.

"Not much," said Kitty, retrieving a large jack from under the counter,
then filling it at the ale tap.

"Just those two in from
somewhere. "With a motion of her chin she indicated two men sitting at a
corner table.

"Who are they?" asked Erik, then took a long pull on the
ale. Say what you will, he thought, about being told to frequent only
this one inn: at least the Duke kept it serving only the finest ale and
food. Kitty shrugged.

"Didn't say. They sound like Easterners to me.

Certainly not from around here." She Picked up a bar rag and began
wiping imaginary spills.

"One of them is quiet, the dark fellow in the
corner, but the other talks enough for both of them." Erik shrugged.

While the inn was known to locals as being the hangout of garrison
soldiers off duty, a few strangers wandered in from time to time, and
although the staff was always on the lookout for spies and informers,
most of those strangers had legitimate business in the area. Those few
who didn't were either followed out by Duke James's agents or conducted
to a basement room for interrogation, depending on the Duke's
instructions. Erik glanced around and noticed that none of the girls
who serviced the soldiers was in view. He glanced at Kitty and found
he preferred talking to her for the moment.

"The girls keeping out of
sight?"

"Meggan and Heather are working tonight," said Kitty.

"They
ducked out when the strangers arrived." Erik nodded.

"The special
girls?"

"One's on the way," said Kitty. The special girls were agents
of the Duke, and when a stranger stayed too long

4I

at the inn, one quickly appeared, ready to accompany the stranger and
ferret out whatever information might prove useful. Erik found himself
wondering who had taken up the role of "Spymaster," as Erik was certain
that had been one of Bobby de Loungvill'e's many masks. Certainly it
wasn't Captain Calis, and Erik knew it wasn't himself.

"What are you
thinking?" asked Kitty.

"Just wondering about our' glancing at the
two strangers, he changed what he was about to say 'landlord' s
employees." Kitty raised her eyebrows in question.

"What do you mean?"

Erik shrugged.

"It's probably none of my business, anyway. A man can
get too curious." Kitty leaned forward, elbows on the bar, and said,
"Curiosity is what got me the death mark." Erik raised his eyebrow.

"The Mockers?"

"Rumor reached me a few weeks ago. An old friend
thought to warn me. The Upright Man has returned, or at least someone
claiming to be the Upright Man, and I'm being blamed for some troubles
beyond the death of Sam Tannerson." Tannerson had been a bully and
thief who had killed Kitty's sister as a warning to Roo not to do
business in the Poor Quarter without paying bribes. It had been a
bloody business and had resulted in both Roo and Kitty finding
themselves in need of the Duke's protection.

"What sort of troubles?"

"Something to do with the previous leader of the Mockers, the Sagacious
Man, having to flee Krondor." She sighed.

"Anyway, if I venture out of
this inn after dark, or into the Poor Quarter at any time, I'm dead."

Erik said, "That's a heavy burden." Kitty shrugged as if it weren't
important.

"Life is like that."

Erik sipped his ale. He studied the girl. When she had first been
captured, she had stripped before Bobby and the men who had captured
her, partly in defiance, partly in resignation. She was pretty a
lithe body, long neck, and big blue eyes that any man would notice ~
but hard. There was an element of toughness in her which took nothing
away from her features but which underlined them, as if life had forged
her in a hotter fire than most. Erik found it attractive in a way he
couldn't articulate. She wasn't remotely provocative, like the girls
he slept with at the

Sign of the White Wing, or playful and mildly taunting, like the whores
who worked this inn. She was guarded, thoughtful, and, Erik had
decided, very smart.

"What are you staring at?" she asked. Erik lowered
his eyes. He hadn't realized he had been staring at her.

"You, I
guess."

"There are plenty of girls around here to scratch your itch,
Erik. Or there's the White Wing if you want something special." Erik
blushed. Suddenly Kitty laughed.

"You're a child, I swear." Erik
said, "I'm not in the mood ... for that. Just thought I'd have a drink
or two and ... talk." Kitty raised an inquiring eyebrow, but said
nothing for a moment. Finally she said, "Talk?" Erik sighed.

"I'm
spending so much time shouting at men, watching them fall all over
themselves trying to anticipate my next order, or in meetings with the
Captain and the other court officers, I just wanted to talk about
anything that doesn't have something to do with' he almost found
himself saying 'the invasion' but caught himself being a soldier."

If Kitty noticed his slight hesitation, she said nothing.

"SO, what do
you want to talk about?" she asked, putting away her bar rag.

"How are
you doing?"

"Me'?" she asked.

"Well, I'm eating better than I ever have. I've
gotten used to not having to hold a dagger in my hand when I sleep I
just keep it under my pillow. That's another thing I'm getting used to:

sleeping in a real bed.

"And not having lice and fleas is good."

Suddenly Erik laughed. Kitty joined in. Erik said, "I know what you
mean. The pests on the march can be as maddening as anything." One of
the two strangers approached.

"From your garb I take you for a
soldier," he said. Erik nodded.

"I am." With a friendly manner the
fellow spoke.

"It's kind of quiet here tonight. I've been in a lot of
inns, and this isn't exactly what I'd call lively." Erik shrugged.

"Sometimes it is. Depends on what's going on at the palace." The man
said, "Really?" Erik glanced at Kitty, who nodded slightly, said, "Got
to check some inventory," and left through the rear door.

"We've got a
big parade coming up soon," said Erik.

"Some embassy or another from
Kesh is coming for one of those state visits. The Master of Ceremonies
has the Captain of the Prince's Household Guards half-crazy with all
the nonsense the garrison's going to go through to get ready for this.

I'm in for a quick ale and a chat with my friend, then I've got to head
back." The man glanced at his empty ale mug.

"I need another." He
turned and shouted, "Girl!" When Kitty didn't answer, he turned back to
Erik.

"Think she'd mind if I fill my own?" Erik shook his head.

"If
you leave your coins on the bar, she won't."

"Buy you one?" asked the
man as he moved behind the bar.

"What about your friend?" asked Erik,
indicating the

other man at the table, the darker stranger Kitty had referred to as
the quieter of the pair.

"He'll keep. He's a business associate of
mine." The man lowered his voice and in a conspiratorial tone said,
"Truth to tell, he's a terrible bore. All he talks about is trade and
his children."

Erik nodded, as if agreeing with the man.

"I'm unmarried myself," said
the stranger, coming around the bar, handing a foaming mug to Erik.

"Name's Pierre Rubideaux. From Bas-Tyra."

"Erik." He took the mug.

"Your health," said Pierre, hoisting his own mug. Erik took a drink.

"What brings you to Krondor?"

"Business. In particular, we're looking
to set up some trading with the Far Coast through the port." Erik
smiled.

"You'll be wanting to talk to a friend of mine, I think."

"Who's that?" asked Rubideaux.

"Rupert Avery. Owns the Bitter Sea
Company. You trade in Krondor, you do business with either Roo or
Jacob Esterbrook. If you're talking about Kesh, that's Esterbrook. If
you're talking the Far Coast, that's Roo." Erik took another long drink
from his mug. Something slightly bitter lingered after the ale, and he
frowned. He didn't remember his first mug being off.

"As a matter of
fact, I am looking for Rupert Avery," said the man. The other man
stood, nodding to Pierre.

"It's time," he said.

"We must leave."

"Well, Erik von Darkmoor, it's been more of a pleasure than you know."

Erik started to say good-bye, then frowned.

"I never told you my full
name-' he began. Suddenly a pain ripped through his stomach, as if
someone had plunged a fiery knife in his gut. He reached out and
grabbed the stranger by his tunic front.

As if removing the grip of a baby, the man pulled Erik's hands away.

"You've got only a few more minutes, Erik, but they'll be long ones;

trust me." Erik felt the strength drain from his legs as he attempted
to step forward. The blood pounded in his temples and darkness began
to close around his field of vision. He was dully aware of Kitty
reentering the inn. Her voice sounded distant and he couldn't
understand most of what she was saying, but he heard a man shout, "Take
them!" Then he was looking upward through a tunnel of light as darkness
moved in from all sides. His body was afire with pain as if each joint
were swelling inside him. Hot spikes of agony traveled up and down his
arms and legs, and his heart pounded faster and faster as if trying to
erupt from his chest. Perspiration ran from his face and drenched his
body as Erik felt his muscles tighten, disobeying his command to let
him stand. As Kitty's face appeared at the end of the tunnel of his
vision, he attempted to speak her name, but his tongue wouldn't work
and the pain made it almost impossible to breathe. The last thing he
heard as darkness overtook him was a single word: "Poison."

"He'll live," said the voice, as Erik found himself regaining
consciousness. Pain exploded behind his eyes as he opened them, causing
him to groan. The sound of his own voice caused the pain to redouble,
and he bit back a second groan. Its body ached and his joints were
burning.

"Erik?" came a woman's voice, and Erik attempted to find the
source. Strange blurry shapes hovered at the edge of his vision, and
he couldn't make his eyes obey his will, so he shut them. Another
voice, Roo's, said, "Can you hear me?"

"Yes," Erik managed to croak.

Someone put a damp cloth on his lips and Erik licked
them. The moisture seemed to help, so he sucked on the cloth. Then
someone held a cup of water to his lips, while someone else held his
head so he could drink.

"Just a sip," said the woman's voice. Erik
sipped, and while his throat hurt worse than he ever remembered, he
forced himself to swallow. In a few
seconds the returning moisture to his mouth and throat eased the
discomfort. Erik blinked, as he realized he was in a bed. Hovering
over him were Kitty, Duke James, Roo, and Calis. Another figure was
barely visible at the periphery of his vision.

"What happened?" asked
Erik, his voice still hoarse.

"You were poisoned," said Roo.

"Poisoned?" he asked. Nodding, Duke James said, "Henri Dubois. He's a
poisoner from Bas-Tyra. I've run afoul of his handiwork before in
Rillanon. I didn't expect to see him this far west." Glancing around,
Erik assumed he was in a back room at the inn, a priest of an order he
didn't recognize standing behind the others.

"Why?" asked Erik.

Assuming no one in the room was ignorant of the coming invasion, he
still didn't want to betray anything Lord James wanted kept secret.

"Nothing to do with the coming troubles," said Calis. He glanced
pointedly at the priest, which Erik took to mean the man was not fully
trusted.

"A personal matter," suggested Lord James. Erik wasn't sure
what he meant, for a moment, then realization struck.

"Mathilda," he
whispered. He sank back into the bed. His father's widow, mother to
his murdered half-brother, who had vowed revenge on Erik and Roo, had
sent someone to see the matter disposed of.

"They were coming after Roo
next," said Erik.

"That's logical," said James.

"Who was the other man,
the quiet one?" asked Erik as James helped him to sit upright. Nausea
struck him, his
head rang, and his eyes watered, but he stayed conscious.

"We don't
know," answered Calis.

"He got out of the inn while we were subduing
Dubois."

"You captured him?" asked Erik.

"Yes," answered James.

"Last
night." He indicated Kitty.

"When she left the iT to fetch some of my
agents, then returned to find you on the floor, she surmised at once
what was going on. She hurried down to the nearest temple and brought
a priest to heal you."

"Half dragged, you mean," said the nameless
priest. James smiled.

"My men took Dubois to the palace and we
questioned him all night. We're certain the late Baron of Darkmoor's
widow sent him after you. "J ames raised one eyebrow and motioned with
his head toward the cleric. Erik said nothing. He knew the Lady
Gamina, James's wife, could read minds, which was why they were certain
who had sent the assassin. No confession was needed. The priest said,
"I think you should rest. The magic that cleansed your body of the
poison didn't reverse the damage already done you. You will need at
least a week of bed rest and a bland diet."

"Thank you, Father ...
began Erik.

"Father Andrew," answered the priest. He nodded once to
the Duke and left without further comment. Erik said, "That's an odd
priest. I don't recognize his regalia."

"I would find it strange if
you did, Erik," answered the Duke as he moved toward the door.

"Andrew
is a priest of the order of Ban-ath. Their shrine is the closest to
this inn." The god of thieves was not one commonly worshiped by most
citizens. There were two holidays where small votive offerings were
made to protect the home, as an appeasement, but mostly those who
frequented the temple were on the dodgy path, as it was called. it was
rumored the Mockers' Guild sent a tithe to the temple each year. James
said, "I'm going to leave you now. You stay here

a couple of days, then you've got to get that happy little band of
cutthroats we've recruited for you up into the mountains and teach them
what they need to know." Erik glanced around.

"Where is here?"

"My
room," said Kitty.

"No," said Erik trying to rise. He almost fainted
from the
effort.

"Give me a little while to catch my breath and I'll get back
to the palace." Calis turned to leave.

"Stay here."

"I've slept with
worse company," said Kitty.

"I won't mind a pallet on the floor." Erik
tried to protest but fatigue was making it hard to keep his eyes open.

He heard Calis say something to Kitty, but couldn't remember what it
was. During the night, chills racked his body for a few minutes, until
a warm body slipped into bed with him and he felt reassuring arms
encircle his waist. But when he awoke in the morning he was alone.

Erik rode in silence. His strength was slowly returning after a few
days in bed, and a week in the saddle. Since leaving Krondor he had
left it to Alfred to bully the men, doing little more than give
instructions to Alfred and another corporal named Nolan. He had
inspected fortifications only once or twice. Jadow and the other
sergeants had done their work in Krondor. The men were adept at using
the ancient Keshian Legion techniques for making camp each night.

Within a hour of the order being given, a tiny fortress was in place
with breastworks, defensive stakes, and removable planks used to get in
and out. Erik was getting to know these men, though he still couldn't
remember every name. He knew many of them would die in the coming war.

But Calis and William were doing a nearly perfect job of picking the
right men for these special companies. The men before him were tough
and self-reliant and, Erik suspected, would be able to live
by their own wits for months up in these mountains if the situation
required once they had learned the particulars of mountain living. Erik
considered all the things he knew from living in Ravensburg: the tricks
the wind played with sound, the threat of a sudden storm being felt
before it was seen, and the dangers of being exposed to such a storm.,
He had seen more than one traveler dead from spending the night in the
cold, only miles from the inn where Erik had grown up. The wind from
the north was cold, for winter was coming quickly. Erik realized that
was why he was thinking of the trader they had found when he was ten;

the man had tried to shelter under a tree, with his cloak wrapped
around him but in the night the wind had sucked the warmth from his
body and killed him as if he had been encased in ice. They were making
their way along a small mountain trail, used for the most part by
hunters and a few shepherds, one which ran roughly the same course as
the King's Highway from Krondor to Yhth, but which veered to the
northeast about fifty miles from the Prince's city. Several little
hamlets dotted the way up to another fork, where the road turned west
again, eventually leading to Hawk's Hollow and Questor's View, while a
smaller trail led to the northeast, toward the Teeth of the World and
the Dimwood. In the foothills of those great mountains and in the
various meadows, valleys, and stretches of the forests existed some of
the most dangerous and unknown territory within the boundaries of the
Kingdom. Fate had conspired to keep Kingdom citizens out of those
areas, for there were no natural trade routes, little desirable
farmland, and few mineral riches to lure men to these areas. Erik had
decided, without asking anyone, to take his trainees farther on this
march than ever before. He had an instinct that the more the Kingdom
knew of the north,

the less likely they would be to have unwelcome surprises when the
Emerald Queen's army came. As if reading his mind, Alfred rode up next
to him and said, "Bit far to go for drilling, isn't it, Erik?" Erik
nodded. He pointed to a pass off in the distance.

"Send a squad to
scout out that rise, so we don't find a band of Dark Brothers marching
over it unexpectedly, and look for tonight's camp." He glanced around,
then said
softly, "Hunting parties tomorrow. Let's see who knows how to find his
own dinner." Alfred shivered.

"This is a cold place to camp."

"The
farther north we go, the colder it gets." Alfred sighed.

"Yes,
Sergeant Major."

"Besides," said Erik, 'we're almost where I want to
be."

"And would you be in the mood to share that tidbit, Sergeant
Major?" asked Alfred.

"No," said Erik. Corporal Alfred rode off, and
Erik suppressed a smile. The old corporal had served in the garrison at
Darkmoor, for Erik's father, for fifteen years before they met. He was
a full twenty years older than Erik's twenty-two. He had also been an
early convert of Erik's, having been one of the first picked to
accompany the levy of men Erik's half brother sent to the Prince, and
he was one of the few survivors of that journey. Erik had been forced
by circumstance to physically beat Alfred three times, the first when
Alfred had sighted Erik in an inn in the town of Wilhehnsburgh and
Alfred had attempted to arrest Erik. The second time had been during
his first week of training under Erik and Jadow Shati, and the third,
when he had gotten too sure of himself and thought he could finally
best the young sergeant. Then they had voyaged to the far continent,
Novindus, and from there they had returned, two of the five men who
survived that expedition. Now Erik trusted the man. with his life and
knew Alfred felt the same way about him.

Erik considered that odd forged bond of soldiers, men who otherwise
might have no use for one another but who after serving together,
facing death together, felt like brothers. Then, thinking of brothers,
he wondered if James would be able to convince Erik's half-brother's
mother to cease her attempts to) kill him. Erik considered that if
anyone could do so, it would be Lord James. The men marched and Erik
considered the coming war. He was not privy to all the plans of Lord
James, Knight Marshal William, and Prince Patrick, but he was beginning
to suspect what they would be. And he didn't like what he was
beginning to suspect. He knew more than most men what was coming, but
he had reservations about what would be the price of victory, and as he
rode down the small path, he heard one of the men pass the word,
"Scouts coming." A man sent ahead with three others jogged at a good
pace past the column of men marching ahead of Erik and stopped before
the Sergeant Major. His name was Matthew, and he struggled for breath
as he said, "Smoke, Sergeant!" He turned and pointed.

"Far ridge.

About a dozen fires, I think." As Erik searched the distant ridge, he
started to notice the low hanging smoke, easily mistaken for ground fog
at this distance.

"Where are the other scouts?" The soldier, catching
his breath, said, "Mark has moved out, while Wil and Jenks are staying
where we first saw the smoke." He blew out his cheeks a moment, then
said, "And Jenks will follow about now, I guess." Erik nodded. It was
the standard procedure for any encounter with potentially hostile
soldiers. The scouts always left camp an hour before the main column,
moving along the road in pairs, two on each side, scouting for
potential ambush. If any potential enemy was spied, orders were for
one man to return, the other to scout ahead. If the advance scout
didn't quickly return. a second would

5I

follow, to determine if the first was dead, captured, or observing the
enemy. If the latter, the advance scout would return as soon as he was
relieved, carrying the most up-to-the- moment intelligence while
leaving another pair of eyes to watch. Erik nodded and wished they were
training these men
as mounted cavalry. That would start next month, but right now he
wished for the speed. Erik signaled and said, "Hand signals only." The
men at the rear turned to look, then started tapping the men in front
on their shoulders, relaying the silent order. Alfred motioned and
Erik nodded. He signed that he would ride with the advance scout to
the van, while Alfred was to bring up the column. He indicated he
wanted two squads on the wings, one to the right and one to the left,
and ready for anything. Erik motioned for the scout to take the lead
and he rode after. The man jogged at a good pace, and Erik trotted
along after him. After moving up the road for nearly a half-hour, they
found the first of Erik's scouts, watching ahead. He held up his hand
and Erik dismounted. Keeping his voice low, he said, "No sign of Jenks
or Mark, Sergeant." Erik nodded, handing his reins to Matthew. He
motioned for Wil to come with him and moved along the trail. Glancing
across a small valley, he could clearly see smoke from fires along a
distant ridge. He moved another quarter-mile along the trail, then
paused. Something ahead wasn't right. He listened, then realized that
while sound was echoing from all around this narrow pass, it was silent
ahead. He motioned for Wil to move to the other side of the trail,
then he continued down into the thick brush on his side. The going was
slow as Erik carefully picked his way through the dense undergrowth.

The trees in this rocky hillside stood in dumps, with relatively bare
spots between.

At the edge of one such clearing, Erik saw will on the other side of
the road. With hand gestures, he indicated wil should loop around and
approach the next group of trees from a position farther off the trail.

Erik watched and waited. When Wil didn't appear again, Erik was
certain he new where whoever was taking his scouts was secreted. Erik
surveyed his own surroundings and decided to move farther down slope.

He backed away from the edge of the trees he had hid within, and after
a few scrambling half-slides, he was down at the base of a dry creek.

During the next rain this defile would be flooded, he knew, but at
present there was only a bit of damp soil underfoot to remind him of
the last rain in these mountains. The scent of smoke was now evident,
and Erik knew there had been other campfires closer than the ones that
now burned, and he suspected that another company of men had broken
camp here the night before. A familiar odor greeted Erik and he
glanced up the slope. A good job of hiding horse dung had been
accomplished, but to someone who had grown up with the animals the
scent was unmistakable. The animals had been staked out a short
distance from the clearing where his scouts had vanished. The lingering
pungency of horse urine would be gone in another day. Erik moved to the
point on the opposite side of the road where his scout had disappeared,
and paused, listening. Again there was a dead spot of sound nearby, as
if the animals had left and would not return until the present
occupants departed. Erik skirted the edge of the brush, reached the
next grove of trees down the downslope side, and started working his
way back to the trail. Suddenly he knew; someone was watching him.

While short on years, he was long on experience in warfare, and he knew
that he was about to be attacked.

He rolled over as a body landed upon the spot he had just vacated. The
man landed lightly on his feet, despite his intended victim's not being
where he had expected, and as he
turned, Erik did the unexpected. He rolled back into the man, yanking
him down on top of him. Few men Erik had met were as strong as he, so
he felt more confident with both of them in close than having his
opponent upright while he tried to rise. Erik rolled the man over and
got on top of him. His opponent was strong, and quick, but Erik soon
had his wrists confined. Seeing no weapon in the man's hand, Erik
released his wrist, drawing back his own fist to strike, but hesitated,
as he recognized the man.

"Jackson?" The soldier said, "Yes, Sergeant
Major." Erik pushed himself off the man and rose to his feet. The
soldier was one of Prince Patrick's Household Guards. But rather than
the ceremonial uniforms of the palace, or even the daily ~g regalia, he
was dressed in a dark green tunic and trousers, with a leather
breastplate, short dagger, and metal bowl helm. Erik extended his hand
and helped the guardsman to his feet.

"Want to tell me what this is
all about?" Another voice said, "No, he doesn't." Erik looked to the
source of that voice and saw a face familiar to him: Captain Subai of
the Royal Krondorian Pathfinders.

"Captain?"

"Sergeant Major," said the
officer.

"You're a bit off your course, aren't you?" Erik studied the
man. He was tall, but rangy, close to gaunt, m appearance. His face
was sunburned and looked like dark leather. His eyebrows and hair were
grey, though Erik suspected he was not that old a man. He was rumored
to be originally from Kesh, and was counted a fierce
swordsman and an exceptional bowman. But like most of the Pathfinders
he tended to stay among his own, not mixing with the garrison or
Calis's Eagles.

"I was told by Prince Patrick to drill my new company
and thought I'd wander them a bit through some rougher terrain than
just outside Krondor." With his chin he indicated the distant smoke.

"Your fires, Captain?" The man nodded, then said, "Well, take your men
north if you want, but don't come this way, Sergeant Major."

"Why not,
Captain?" The man paused and said, "That wasn't a request, Sergeant
Major. That was an order." Erik wasn't inclined to argue the chain of
command. This wasn't some noble's hired mercenary but a KnightCaptain
of the Prince's army, a man with rank equal to Calis's. Erik thought
Bobby de Loungville might have a clever rejoinder in this situation,
but all Erik could think to say was "Yes, sir." Subai said, "Your
scouts are over there. They need some work." Erik crossed the road and
found another pair of soldiers standing guard over Wil, Mark, and
Jenks. His men were tied up, but not uncomfortable. Erik glanced at
the two guards, and saw that one was a Pathfinder and the second
another of Prince Patrick's Household Guards.

"Cut them loose," said
Erik and the two guards complied. The three rose slowly, obviously
stiff from their confinement, and flexed a bit as the two guards handed
them back their weapons. Wil began to speak, and Erik held up his hand.

A faint noise came to him and he recognized it, then another, and a
third.

"Come along," he ordered his men. After they were well away
from the Pathfinders, Erik asked, "They jumped you from the trees?"

Mark said, "Yes, Sergeant Major."

Erik sighed. He had almost been taken that way as well.

"Well, look up
more often." The men waited for an outburst, or some other form of
recrimination for allowing themselves to he captured, but Erik's mind
was elsewhere. He mused on the presence of Prince Patrick's select
guard
along that distant ridge, working hand in glove with the Pathfinders
and their odd Captain. More odd yet was the presence of many soldiers
on a distant ridge where every map said there were no trails, and
oddest of all were the faint sounds that had carried to Erik. The
second had taken him longer to recognize, but he knew it had been the
sound of axes felling trees. That and the sound of picks on rock had
not come to him as quickly as the first sound, one he knew well from
his childhood: the sound of hammers striking iron on an anvil. As they
cleared the ridge to where the remaining scout waited, Jenks made bold
to ask, "What are those blokes doing over there, Sergeant Major?"

Without thought, Erik said, "They're building a road."

"Over there?"

asked Wil.

"Why?" Erik said, "I don't know, but I intend to find out."

The problem was, Erik had a good idea why they were building a road
along that distant ridge, and he didn't like the answer.

THREE

) Queg

Roo scowled. Karli stood aside, obvious awe on her features, as the
Duke of Krondor entered their home. She had met Lord James once
before, at a gala Roo had thrown to mark the advent of his success with
the founding of the Bitter Sea Company. Outside the door a carriage
waited. Four mounted guards, one carrying a spear from which hung the
ducal banner, stood holding their horses' bridles.

"Good evening, Mrs.
Avery," said the Duke.

"I'm sorry for the unexpected intrusion, but I
need to borrow your husband for a bit." Karli was nearly speechless,
but she managed to say, "Borrow?" Duke James smiled and took her hand,
squeezing it slightly.

"I'll return him to you undamaged. I promise."

Roo said, "Shall we talk?" He indicated his study. The Duke said, "I
think so." He removed his cape and handed it to the astonished serving
girl who had come to see who was at the door, and swept past her and
Karli. In his study, Roo closed the door.

"To what do I owe the
pleasure?" he asked. James sat in a chair opposite Roo's desk.

"From
the expression on your face when I appeared at the door, pleasure isn't
what I think you feel." Roo said, "Well, it's not often we have the
Duke of

Krondor show up unannounced a few minutes before bedtime."

"I can do
without the fuss of letting you know I'm coming and throwing your
household into an uproar. I don't need another large meal with all the
neighbors invited," said james.

"Truth to tell, I know most of those
with estates near here, and you're among the few with whom I can have
an interesting discussion." Roo looked dubious.

"Would you care to
stay the night,

m'lord?"

"My thanks for the offer, but I must continue my journey. I'm
heading to your homeland, to have word with the Dowager Baroness and
her son. She sent assassins to kill Erik."

"I was warned," said Roo.

"I was also told you took the assassin into custody."

"Yes," said the
Duke. His features were drawn and he looked as if he had done without
sleep for too many days recently, but his eyes were still alert and
they studied Roo's face for a moment.

"He's been ... seen to. The
other man, though, he's still out and about, and if he's merely
Baroness Mathilda's errand boy, he'll be back to Darkmoor by now and
she may be hatching another plot. I have plans for you and Erik, so
I'm personally going to see she stops trying to kill you," he said
Ughtly. Then, with complete seriousness, he added, "Neither of you is
to die until I say so." Roo sat back. There was really nothing more
for him to say until the Duke told him what was on his mind. Roo knew
he owed James several serious favors for his intervention in Roo's
almost unheard of rise to power and wealth, and he was certain James
was here to collect one of those favors. He wouldn't stop by just to
let Roo know he was personally seeing to Erik's and his safety. After a
moment of silence, James said, "I could do with a drink."

Roo had the good grace to blush.

"Sorry," he said, rising from his
chair. He retrieved two crystal goblets and some expensive brandy in a
matching decanter from a cabinet built into the wall next to a window
overlooking one of Karli's many gardens. He poured two generous
measures, then handed one to the Duke. James sipped and nodded his
approval. When Roo had returned to his chair, the Duke spoke.

"I have a
favor to ask." Roo was surprised.

"You sound as if you really mean
that."

"I do. We both know you owe me in a very large measure, but I
can't demand you go."

"Go where?"

"Queg."

"Queg?" Roo's astonishment
was genuine.

"Why Queg?" James paused a moment, as if weighing how
much to tell Roo. He lowered his voice.

"Confidentially, we're going
to have our hands full with the Emerald Queen's fleet when it clears
the Straits of Darkness. Nicky's got some notion of hitting it halfway
through, but to do that he's got to have the bulk of our fleet on the
Far Coast. That means we have no way of protecting our shipments from
the Free Cities and Ylith when the enemy is in the Bitter Sea."

"You
want to make a deal with Queg not to raid our shipping?"

"No," said
James.

"I want you to negotiate a deal to hire Quegan warships as
escorts for our ships." Roo looked like an owl greeted by a bright
light. Then he laughed.

"You want to bribe them."

"In a word, yes."

James sipped at his brandy then lowered his voice, "And we want fire
oil. Lots of it."

"Will they sell it?" James sipped his drink.

"Once,
no. But they know we have the knowledge of making it and have had it
since
the fall of Armengar. What we don't have is the production facilities.

Our agents tell us they have an abundant supply. I need at least five
thousand barrels. Ten thousand would be better."

"That's a lot of destruction." whispered Roo.

"You know what's coming,
Roo," the Duke answered, his voice equally low. Roo nodded. There was
only one merchant in Krondor who had traveled to that distant land and
seen firsthand the destruction visited upon innocents by the Emerald
Queen. But there were other merchants with far better connections to
be made with Queg.

"Why me?"

"You are a well-regarded curiosity, Roo
Avery. Word of your rise has spread from Roldem to the Sunset Islands,
and I'm counting on that curiosity to tip the balance."

"What balance?"

asked Roo. James set his goblet on Roo's desk.

"Queg has many quaint
and original laws, and not the least of these is the simple fact that a
non-citizen of that mad little Empire had no legal rights. If you set
foot on Quegan soil without a Quegan sponsor, you're property for the
first Quegan with a strong enough arm to toss a rope around you and
make it stick. If you resist, even to save your life, that's assault
on a citizen." He made a rowing motion.

"How do you feel about long
ocean voyages?"

"How long?o "Twenty years is the shortest sentence
we've heard of." Roo sighed.

"How do I get a sponsor?o "That's the
tricky part," said James.

"We've had strained relations with Queg
lately. Too much smuggling and raiding from our point of view, too
little paying of duties for sailing on their ocean from their point of
view. Our delegation was expelled from their court four years ago.

and it's going to take a while to get another installed."

"Sounds
difficult," said Roo.

"It is. But the thing you need to know about the
Quegans
is that their government serves two purposes: to keep order by
keeping the peasants beaten down and to defend the island. The real
power rests with their rich merchants. The oldest families have
hereditary rights to a place on their ruling body, the Imperial Senate.

Those with enough money can buy a se4t." Roo grinned.

"Sounds like my
kind of place."

"I doubt you'd like it. Remember, aliens have no
rights. If you irritate your sponsor, he can withdraw his protection at
whim. That means you have to be very polite. Take lots of gifts."

"I
can see what you mean. "Roo reflected on what he had been told for a
moment, then asked, "How am I supposed to get ashore to make this sort
of sponsorship contact if you can't provide an introduction?"

"You're
an enterprising lad," said James, finishing his brandy. He stood.

"You'll find a way. Start sounding out your business associates. Once
you get some names to contact, I can arrange to have one message
smuggled into Queg without too much difficulty, but that's about the
limit of what I can do." Roo rose.

"I suppose I'll find a way."

Already his mind was turning to the problem.

"My carriage is waiting
and I have some distance to travel," said the Duke as he reached the
doorway. James followed him and motioned for the serving girl, who was
rooted to the same spot he had left her in, still holding the Duke's
cloak. She quickly helped the Duke on with it, and James stood aside
while Roo opened the door. James's carriage was waiting just beyond the
portal and Roo's gate man made ready to escort the carriage back to the
entrance to Roo's estate. As the carriage door was closed by a guard,
James leaned out the window and said, "Don't be too long. I'd like you
to leave next month at the latest."

6I

Roo nodded and closed the door. Karli hurried from the upstairs to
ask, "What did the Duke want?"

"I'm going to Queg," answered Roo.

"Queg?" responded his wife.

"Isn't that dangerous?" Roo shrugged.

"Yes. But for the moment, getting there is the problem.o He yawned.

Slipping his arm around her waist, he gave her a playful squeeze.

"Right now I need some sleep. Let's go to bed."

She returned his merry tone with a rare smile.

"I would like that. '
Roo led his wife upstairs.

Roo lay in darkness listening to Karli's even breathing. Their
lovemaking had been uninspired. Karli did nothing to arouse his
desire, the way Sylvia Esterbrook did. He thought of Sylvia during his
love play with his wife and felt vaguely guilty for it. He had visited
Sylvia almost weekly, often twice in a week, since the award ceremony
at the palace, and he was still as excited by her as he had been the
first time he had come to her bed. He quietly stood up and moved to
the window. I Through the flawless glass, imported at great
expense from Kesh, he could see the rolling hills of his estate. He
had a brook that provided, he had been told, excellent fishing, and he
had a small stand of woodlands to the north teeming with game. He had
said he would fish and hunt like a noble, but he never seemed to find
time. The only thing that he could remotely consider recreation was
his time spent with Erik at the Sign of the Broken Shield, making love
to Sylvia, or practicing his swordplay with his cousin Duncan. He
reviewed his life in a rare moment of reflection and had to consider
himself both lucky and cursed. He was lucky that he had survived the
murder of Stefan von Darkmoor, the journey to Novindus with Captain
Calis, and his
confrontation with the Jacoby Brothers. More, he was now one of the
wealthiest merchants in Krondor. He felt blessed to be a family man,
though his wife was not someone he cared to consider; he had long since
admitted to himself he had married Karli out of pity and guilt: he felt
responsible for the death of her father. His children confused him.

They were alien little creatures, demanding things he could only
vaguely recognize as needs. And they tended to smell at the most
inconvenient times. Abigail was a shy child who often burst into tears
and ran from him if he raised his voice even in the slightest, and
Helmut was teething, which led to his constantly spitting up the
contents of his stomach, usually on a fresh tunic that Roo had just put
on. He knew that had he not married Karli, he would now be wed to
Sylvia. He didn't understand love, as others talked about it, but
Sylvia consumed his thoughts. She took him to heights of passion he
had only dreamt of before he met her. He even imagined that had Sylvia
been his wife, his children would be perfect, blond little creatures
who smiled all the time and never spoke unless it was required by their
father. He sighed. Even if Sylvia had been their mother, Abigail and
Helmut would be odd, alien creatures, he was sure. He saw a cloud
moving across the sky, blocking the big moon, the only one showing this
time of night. As the vista beyond the window darkened, so did his
mood. Sylvia, he wondered silently to himself. He was beginning to
doubt she was in love with him; maybe it was some doubt about himself,
he thought, but he just couldn't truly believe someone such as himself
could capture her interest, let alone her heart. Still, she seemed
relieved when he could arrange to visit her and her father, especially
if he could spend the night. Her lovemaking was always inventive and
enthusiastic, but as the months wore by, he suspected everything wasn't
as it seemed to be. He also suspected she might be giving information
to her father that cost Roo

in his business. He decided he would have to be more careful what he
said to Sylvia. He didn't think she was getting information out of him
to give to her father, but a chance remark repeated over dinner might
give the crafty old Jacob enough of an edge to better his younger
rival. Stretching, he watched as the cloud rolled past. Sylvia
was a strange and unexpected presence in his life, a miracle. Yet
doubts continued to stir. He wondered what Helen Jacoby would make of
this. Thinking of Helen made him smile. While she was the widow of a
man he had gotten killed, they had become friends and, truth to tell,
he enjoyed talking to her more than either Karli or Sylvia. Roo sighed.

Three women, and he, didn know what to make of any of them. He softly
left the bedchamber and crossed to the room he used as his office.

Opening a chest, he extracted a wooden box and lifted the lid. In the
moonlight rested a brilliant set of matched rubies, five large stones
as large as his thumb and a dozen smaller ones, all cut in identical
fashion. He had tried to sell the set in the East, but too many gem
merchants recognized it for what it was, stolen goods. The case was
inscribed with the name of the owner, a Lord Vasarius. Roo laughed
softly. He had cursed his luck at being unable to sell the gems, but
now he counted himself fortunate. He knew that in the morning he would
tell his apprentice Dash to inform his grandfather, Duke James, that
when he was ready to send his message to Queg, he knew what it would
say: "My Lord Vasarius. My name is Rupert Avery, merchant of Krondor.

I have recently come into possession of an item of great value I am
certain belongs to you. May I have the pleasure of returning it to you
in person?"

The ship rocked gently inside the huge harbor that was the entrance to
the city of Queg, capital of the island nation
of the same name. Roo watched with fascination as they edged close to
the quay. Huge war galleys crowded the harbor, along with dozens of
smaller ships and boats, from large trading vessels down to tiny
fishing smacks. For an island the size of Queg, it seemed an
improbably busy port. Roo had studied as much as he could on the
hostile island nation, asking his trading partners, old soldiers and
sailors, and anyone else who could give him an 'edge," as the gamblers
like to say. When the Empire of Great Kesh had withdrawn from the Far
Coast and what were now the Free Cities, pulling out her legions to
send south to fight rebellious nations in the Keshian Confederacy, the
Governor of Queg had revolted. A child of the then Emperor of Kesh,
from his fourth or fifth wife, he claimed one gods-inspired divine
reason or another that led to the founding of the Empire of Queg. This
tiny nation of former Keshians, n-mixed with local islanders through
intermarriage, would have been something of a joke save for two
factors. The first was that the island was volcanic and had some of
the richest farmland north of the Vale of Dreams, surrounded by unusual
local currents so that it was the most decent climate in the Bitter Sea
meaning it was self-sufficient when it came to feeding its populace and the second was its navy. Queg had the largest navy in the Bitter
Sea, a fact of life constantly driven home by its regular harassment
and occasional seizure of Kingdom, Keshian, and Free Cities ships.

Besides Queg's claim that it had territorial rights throughout the
Bitter Sea a legacy of that long-ago claim on this sea by Kesh there was the additional irritation of its pirates. Often galleys
without flags would raid along the Kingdom coast or the Free Cities,
down even along the far western coast of the Empire in a bold year, and
at every turn the Emperor and Senate of Queg denied knowledge. More
than once Roo had heard from a minor palace
official, "And all they'd ever say is, "we are a poor nation,
surrounded on all sides by enemies." odd shadows skimming across the
water caused Roo to lift his eyes aloft, and they opened wide in
amazement.

"Look!" jimmy, grandson of Lord James, and his brother,
Dash, both looked up and observed a formation of giant birds
flying out to sea. Jimmy was along at his grandfather's insistence,
which caused Roo no small amount of discomfort. Dash worked for him, at
least nominally, and was a reliable apprentice trader. Jimmy worked
for his grandfather, though Roo wasn't certain in what capacity. He was
certain it wasn't accounting. For a brief instant Roo wondered if the
Quegans would hang the entire party if the boys were accused of being
spies, or just him. The brothers didn't resemble each other much, Jimmy
looking mostly like his grandmother, fine-boned and with pale hair,
while Dash, like his father, Lord Arutha, with a mass of curly brown
hair and a broad open face. But they shared more than most brothers in
attitude and cunning. And he knew where they got that attitude: from
their grandfather.

"Eagles," said Jimmy.

"Or something like them."

"I
thought they were only a legend," said Dash.

"What are they?" asked
Jimmy.

"Giant birds of prey, harnessed and ridden like ponies."

"Someone's riding on them?" asked Roo in disbelief, as the ship was
hauled into the quay by dock workers catching ropes tossed to them by
deckhands.

"Little people," said Jimmy.

"Men who have been chosen for
generations for their tiny size." . Dash said, "Legend has it that a
Dragon Lord flew them as birds of prey, as you or I might fly a falcon,
ages ago. These are the descendants of those birds." Roo said, "You
could do a lot with a flock of those in battle."

"Not really," suggested Jimmy.

"They can't carry much and they tire
easily."

"You suddenly know a great deal about them," suggested Roo.

"Rumors, nothing more," said Jimmy with a grin.

"Or reports on your
grandfather's desk?" suggested Roo. Dash said, "Look at the reception
committee." Jimmy said, "Whatever you wrote, Mr. Avery, it seems to have
done the trick." Roo said, "I merely informed Lord Vasarius I had
something of value that belonged to him, and wished to give it back."

The gangway was rolled out, and as Roo made to leave, the ship's
Captain put a restraining hand on his chest.

"Better to do this by
custom, Mr. Avery, sir." The Captain called ashore.

"Mr. Avery and party
from Krondor. Have they leave to come ashore?" A large delegation of
Quegans stood waiting, surrounding a man in a litter, carried by a
dozen muscular slaves. Each wore a robe with a fancy drape that hung
over one shoulder, what Roo had been told was called a toga. In the
cold months, the locals wore wool tunic and trousers, but in the hot
months of spring, summer, and early fall, this light cotton garb was
the preferred dress of the wealthy. One of the men said in the King's
Tongue, "Please come ashore as our guest, Mr. Avery and party." The
Captain said, "Who speaks?"

"Alfonso Velari." The Captain removed his
hand from Roo's chest.

"You are now invited to set foot on Quegan
soil, Mr. Avery. You're a free man until that Velari fellow withdraws
his protection. By custom he's supposed to let you know a day in
advance. We'll be waiting here, ready to up anchor and set sail at a
moment's notice." Roo regarded the man, one of his many ship's masters,
named Bridges, and said, "Thank you, Captain."

"We're at your disposal, sir." As he stepped on the gangway, Roo
overheard Dash mumble to Jimmy, "Of course he's at Roo's disposal. Roo
owns the ship." jimmy laughed softly, and the brothers fell silent. Roo
walked down the gangway and stopped before Velari. He was a short man
of middle years, with hair cut close to his head and oiled. Roo was
reminded of Tim Jacoby, for he also had sported a Quegan style of hair.

"Mr. Avery?" asked the Quegan.

"At your service, sir."

"Not mine,
gentle Mr. Avery. I am but one of many servants to Lord Vasarius."

"Is
that Lord Vasarius in the litter?" asked Roo. The Quegan returned an
indulgent smile.

"The litter is to transport you to Lord Vasarius's
home, Mr. Avery." He made a gesture that indicated Roo should enter the
litter.

"Porters will secure your baggage and bring it to my master's
home." Roo glanced at Dash and Jimmy, who nodded briefly. Roo said, "I
was planning on staying at one of your city's better inns.. ." Velari
made a sweeping gesture with his hand, as if to brush aside the remark.

"There are none, sir. Only common travelers and seamen stay at our
public houses. Men of rank always guest with other men of rank." As if
that settled the matter, he held aside the litter's curtain and Roo
awkwardly entered. Instantly he was inside, the litter was picked up
by the eight slaves, and the procession set off. Roo could see the city
of Queg as he was carried through. He glanced behind and saw that Jimmy
and Dash were having no trouble keeping up, and he settled in to view
the splendor of the Quegan capital. One of Queg's greatest exports lay
in quarries at the center of the island. Marble of unsurpassed quality
was
cut there and exported at great expense to nobles in the Kingdom, Kesh,
and the Free Cities who wanted impressive facades on their homes, or
stunning fireplaces. But here it was used everywhere. The common
buildings seemed to be fashioned from stone and plaster, but the larger
buildings on the tops of the surrounding hills all glistened white in
the morning sun. Already the day was warm, and Roo wished he had cooler
clothing. The tales about the climate here were understated if
anything. While the weather in Krondor was still brisk in the morning
and mild in the afternoon, here it was almost like summer. Rumor had
it that much of the warm currents that surrounded the island came from
undersea volcanoes, venting nearby. It had been said on more than one
occasion by those to whom Roo spoke that occasionally prayers were said
to Prandur, Burner of Cities, that the entire island should blow up.

Despite the Quegans' reputation as a people hostile to outsiders and
generally unpleasant to deal with, the common folk of the city seemed
much like those of Krondor to Roo. The only marked difference was
dress, as the laborers wore only breech clouts and headbands as they
loaded and unloaded cargo at the docks, and the common workers wore
short tunics of what looked to be a light spun wool, and cross-gartered
sandals. Occasionally Roo spied a noble in a toga, but mostly the men
affected the short tunic. Roo saw women wearing long skirts, but with
their arms bare and their heads uncovered. The sounds of the city were
much like those of Krondor, though horses seemed rare. Roo judged a
population of this size must require that a very high percentage of the
land be put under cultivation, which wouldn't leave much room for
grazing non-food animals. Horses on Queg would be a luxury. The party
wended its way up a series of hills until at last
it reached a large building behind a high stone wall. The gate opened
and they were admitted by two guards wearing the traditional Quegan
Military uniform: breastplate, greaves, short sword and helm. Roo
realized they looked similar in attire to the legendary Legionaries of
the Keshian inner Legions. He had practiced Legionary tactics when he
had served with Calis's Crimson Eagles, and he knew much about them.

But this was as close as he had come to ever
seeing one. As the litter was gently deposited on the stones before the
entrance to the building, Roo considered it likely it was as close as
he was ever likely to get to a genuine member of the Keshian Inner
Legions. Rumor had it that they were still the finest body of soldiers
in the world, despite their never having ventured outside the immediate
vicinity of the Overn Deep, the inland sea upon which the city of Kesh
had been built ages before. Absently Roo wondered if their reputation
wasearned, or the legacy of ancient conquest. The language of Queg was
a variant of the ancient Keshian spoken at the time of the Empire's
withdrawal from the Bitter Sea, so it was related to the languages of
Yabon and the Free Cities. It was also similar enough to the language
spoken in the land of Novindus that Roo could understand most of what
was being said around him. He thought it best to feign ignorance. As he
exited the litter, a young woman slowly walked down the three stone
steps that led to the wide entrance to the building. She wasn't
beautiful, but she was regal. Slender, self-assured, and possessed of
an attitude that spoke volumes of her contempt for this alien merchant
who stood before her, all the while masking that contempt behind a
welcoming smile.

"Mr. Avery," she said in accented King's Tongue.

"I
am," said Roo with a noncommittal half-bow.

"I am Livia, daughter to
Vasarius. My father has asked

me to show you to your quarters. Your servants will be seen to." As
she turned away, Jimmy stepped forward and cleared his throat. The
young woman turned.

"Yes?"

"I am Mr. Avery's personal secretary," said
Jimmy before Roo could comment. The girl raised one eyebrow, but simply
turned, and Roo took that as acquiescence to his coming with Roo.

Softly Roo said, "You're my what?" Jimmy whispered back, "I won the
coin toss. Dash gets to be your servant." Roo nodded. One inside with
Roo, one outside to see what there was to see. Roo was certain that
Lord James had other tasks for these two beyond seeing that Roo didn't
end up dead or chained to a galley oar. Roo and Jimmy were led into a
large entrance area, open to the sky, then through a series of
hallways. Roo quickly decided the building was a hollow square, and
his suspicions were verified when he glimpsed a garden through a
doorway off to one side. The girl led them to a large apartment, with a
pair of beds, surrounded by white netting, and a large bathing pool
that was built into the floor. The room overlooked the wall to the
city, and Queg could be seen below in the distance, while the nearby
houses were blocked from view. Privacy and panorama, thought Roo.

Livia said, "These will be your quarters. Bathe and change. Servants
will show you to our table for dinner. Rest until then." She walked
off without further comment, ignoring Roo's thanks. Jimmy smiled as a
young man took his bag from his hand and started to unpack. He winked
at Roo and inclined his head slightly. A young girl was unpacking Roo's
belongings, including the wooden case containing the rubies. She set
them aside on a table as if they were but another possession, took his
clothing and went to what appeared to be a blank wall

7I

of marble. She pressed lightly and a door popped open, revealing a
wardrobe. Roo said, "That's amazing," and moved to inspect the
handiwork.

"Jimmy, look at this."

jimmy came to see what Roo was pointing to, and saw that a slab of
marble, cut thin but still more than a man's weight, was cleverly
hinged and counter weighted so the door moved almost effortlessly. Roo
pointed to the hinges.

"Very well engineered." Expensive," said Jimmy.

The girl barely suppressed a giggle, and Roo said, "Our host is among
the wealthiest men in Queg." The boy who had unpacked Jimmy's baggage
and put his belongings in a chest near the foot of one of the beds came
to stand next to the girl and waited. Roo was uncertain exactly what
came next, but Jimmy said, "We can bathe ourselves, thank you. It is
our custom. If we may have some privacy." Without any expression the
two young people waited Jimmy pantomimed bathing and pointed to himself
and Roo, and then to the servants and the door. The servants bowed and
retired from the room. Roo said, "Bath servants?"

"Very common here
and in Kesh. Remember, they are slaves, so living in the luxury of a
house like this is dependent on pleasing the master and his guests.

Even the slightest fault might earn one of them a quick trip to a
brothel along the docks, or the quarry, or anywhere else strong young
slaves are needed." Roo looked appalled.

"I never thought much about
it."

"Most people in the Kingdom don't." Jimmy began undressing.

"If
you don't want to share the bath, I can go first or wait." Roo shook
his head.

"I've shared cold rivers with other men, and that pool is
big enough for six of us."

They stripped and entered the water. Roo looked around and said,
"Where's the soap?"

"This is Queg," said Jimmy, indicating a line of
wooden sticks arrayed along the edge of the bath.

"Scrape the dirt off
with these." Roo longed for a) cake of hand-milled Krondorian soap, and
looked dubiously at the sticks as he picked one up and followed Jimmy's
lead. After a sea voyage of two weeks, he wasn't as dirty as he had
been many times in his life, but he was far from being fresh. But as
Jimmy showed him how to use the stick, called a stigle in the local
language, he found that the dirt came off quickly in the hot water. His
hair was another matter. Repeated ducking under the water didn't seem
to rid him of that not quite clean feeling, but then Jimmy pointed out
most Quegan men oiled their hair.

"What about the women?" asked Roo.

"I
hadn't thought of that," said Jimmy as he rose from the pool and
wrapped himself in a large bath sheet. After they had dressed, they
found nowhere to sit, so they lay down waiting for the call to dinner.

Roo dozed a bit in the warm afternoon, until he was awoken by il=y.

"Time to eat." Roo came to his feet and found Livia waiting for them at
the door of their suite. He picked up the wooden case with the rubies
inside, and moved to the door. As he started to greet her, the girl
said, "Were the servants unsatisfactory?"

Roo had no idea what she was saying. Jimmy, however, said, "No,
milady. We were weary and wished to rest."

"If you see one among the
servers at the table whom you find desirable, mark that one by name and
we shall send him or her to your room tonight." Roo said, "Ah ...
milady, I'm a married man." The girl looked over her shoulder as she
led them down the hall.

"This is a problem?"

,in my nation it is," said Roo, blushing. While cheating on his wife
with Sylvia seemed as natural to him as breathing, the thought of one
of those young girls or boys being sent to his bed, much like an
extra blanket, positively
scandalized him. jimmy worked hard at not laughing. The girl seemed
indifferent as she led them into the dining room. The table was a long
slab of marble, resting upon a matched set of ornately carved supports.

Roo assumed that the table had been hauled into the room by a derrick
and the roof added after this massive piece of stone had been installed
inside. Along each side sat a half dozen chairs, open-backed, little
more than half-circles of matching stone with thick pillows upon them,
small benches, really, thought Roo. One didn't move the heavy chairs
to sit and dine, one stepped over them. Livia pointed to a chair to
the left of the man sitting at the head of the table, indicating Roo
should sit there. Then she moved to the chair on her father's right.

Jimmy sat at the remaining place, to Roo's left. Lord Vasarius was an
impressive man, thought Roo. His toga was worn off one shoulder, and
Roo could see that despite his age he was still a powerfully built man.

He had the shoulders of a wrestler and the arms of a blacksmith. He
had sandy hair that had turned mostly grey, and he wore it oiled and
close to his head. He did not rise or offer his hand in greeting, but
merely inclined his chin.

"Mr. Avery," he said.

"My lord," Roo
returned, bowing as he would before the Prince.

"Your message was
cryptic, but the only thing of worth YOU might possibly have of mine in
the Kingdom was a set of rubies stolen over a year ago. May I have
them, please?" He held out his hand. Roo started to hand the case
across the table, but a servant intercepted it and carried it the short
distance to his
master. He flipped open the case, briefly regarded the gems, then
closed the case.

"Thank you for returning my property. May I inquire
how you came by it?" Roo said, "As you may have heard, m'lord, I have
purchased several different companies lately, and this item was
discovered among the inventory of one of them. As there was no lawful
bill of sale attached and as your name was prominently noted on the
case, I assumed them to be stolen goods. I thought it best to return
them personally, given their unique beauty and their value." Vasarius
handed the case back to a servant without looking. Their value is
only that they were to have been a gift for my daughter on her most
recent birthday. Both the servant who removed them from this house,
and the captain of the ship that took him from our island, have been
found and dealt with. I have only to discover to whom they were sold
and all those hands who have soiled them until you returned them to me.

All will die painfully." Thinking of his friend John Vinci, who had
bought them from that Quegan captain, Roo said, "My lord, they were in
an inventory box with other items of dubious origin- I doubt it
possible to trace who dealt them along from the captain to myself. Why
trouble yourself further, now they have been returned?" Roo hoped Lord
Vasarius listened. Obviously the now-dead captain hadn't implicated
John, else he and Roo would already be dead men. Vasarius said, "My
name was upon the box, Mr. Avery. Any man who saw it knew it to be my
property. Any man who did not return it as you have done is a man
without honor, a thief, and one who should be thrown to the animals in
the arena, or tortured slowly." Roo considered that he had been among
those attempting to sell the stones and the only reason he had been
distracted from that undertaking was the murder of his father-in-law.

He maintained an indifferent manner.

Well, m'lord, perhaps that is as it should be, but now that you have
those gems back, at least that portion of the affront has been somewhat
lessened."

"Somewhat," agreed Roo's host as the servants began bringing
out the evening meal.

"As I haven't been able to find those others
besides the captain who insulted my honor, it may be a moot point." Roo
sat motionless, hoping against hope that was the
case, as he was served by young men and women, all attractive by any
measure. Whatever other vices Lord Vasarius might have, it was clear
he enjoyed the beauty of youth on every hand. For all the splendor of
the setting, Roo found the fare at Lord Vasarius's table rather plain.

Fruits and wine were served, and some flat bread with butter and honey,
but the cheese was bland, the wine unspectacular, and the lamb
overcooked. Still, Roo dined as if it were the finest meal he had ever
tasted; the gods knew he had eaten far worse with gusto in his
soldiering days. There was almost no conversation over dinner, and Roo
caught a few meaningful glances pass between Livia and her father.

Jimmy seemed bored, but Roo knew he was noting every detail he could.

When at last the meal came to an end, Vasarius leaned forward and
summoned a servant bearing a tray with a goblet and metal cups. Roo
found the notion of drinking brandy from a metal cup odd, as a metallic
flavor was imparted to the drink, but he ignored it, being nothing of
the wine purist most people born in Ravensburg were. Besides, not
offending his host was far more critical Vasarius raised his goblet,
said, "To your health," and drank Roo did as well and said, "You're
most kind." Vasarius said, "Now, to the matter of what you expect in
repayment for returning my property to me, Mr. Avery." Roo said, "I
expect no repayment, m'lord. I merely

wished for an opportunity to visit Queg and explore the possibility of
trade." Vasarius regarded Roo a moment.

"When I received your letter,"
he said, "I was inclined to believe it another plot by Lord James to
infiltrate our state. His predecessor was a clever man and agai!p, by
half, but James is a demon incarnate." Roo glanced at Jimmy to see if
he was reacting to his grandfather's being described that way, but
Jimmy maintained a facade of indifference that suited his pose as Roo's
personal secretary.

"I am willing to put that by, as your reputation
precedes you. To return those rubies is of little consequence to a man
of your wealth, Mr. Avery, but gaining a trading liaison in Queg, now
that is something worth the price of such baubles." Vasarius took a
drink of brandy, then said, "Do you know much of my people, Mr. Avery?"

"Little, I'm afraid," admitted Roo. in fact he had attempted to study
as much about the Quegans as possible. but he felt feigning ignorance
was far better for his own purposes. Livia spoke in the Quegan dialect.

"If you're going to give a history lesson, Father, may I be excused.

These barbarians sicken me." In Quegan, Lord Vasarius said, "Barbarians
or not, they are guests. If you're bored, take the young secretary and
show him the garden. He's pretty enough to be diverting. There's a
chance he might know a trick that's new even to you." His tone hid
nothing of his disapproval; it would have been evident even if Roo and
James didn't speak the language used. Vasarius turned to Roo.

"Forgive
my daughter's lapse of manners, but speaking the King's Tongue is not
something we do often here. it was only her teacher who insisted she
learn the languages of our neighbors."

"He was a Kingdom-born slave,"
supplied the girl.

"I think the son of some nobleman or another. So
he claimed." To
jimmy she said, "Business bores me. Would you care to see the garden?"

jimmy nodded, excused himself, and left Roo and Vasarius alone.

The lord of the house continued, "Most of those outside our borders
know little of us. We are all that is left of a once proud and great
tradition, the true inheritors of all that was once Great Kesh." Roo
nodded as if hearing this for the first time. We were founded as an
outpost of the Empire, Mr. Avery. This is important. We were not a
colony, as was Bosania, what you know as the Free Cities and the Far
Coast, or a conquered people as were those of the Jal-Pur or the Vale
of Dreams. Those primitives who lived on this island were quickly
absorbed by the garrison placed here to protect Keshian interests in
the Bitter Sea." Raped by the soldiers and getting half-breed children,
thought Roo. He had no doubt that the men living here when the
Keshians showed up were either killed or enslaved.

"The garrison was
pure Keshian, men from the Inner Legions. The reason I point this out
to you is that you of the Kingdom have often treated with Kesh's Dog
Soldiers. Their leader was Lord Vax, fourth son of the Emperor of Great
Kesh.

"When the legion was called home to crush the rebellion in the
Keshian Confederacy, he refused to abandon his people. This was Kesh,
and Queg has endured as the sole repository of that great culture since
the fall of Bosania to the Kingdom. Those who sit upon the Throne of
the Overn Deep are a fallen people, Mr. Avery. They call themselves
"Trueblood,"o but they are a base and degenerate people." He stared at
Roo, awaiting a reaction. Roo nodded and sipped his brandy. Vasarius
continued.

"This is why we have few dealings with outsiders. We are
mighty in culture, but otherwise

we are a poor nation, surrounded on all sides by enemies." In other
circumstances, Roo would have burst out laughing, as that phrase had
been repeated to him so often it was something of a joke. But in the
midst of this splendor, Roo understood. While there were many things
of beauty, one couldn't eat marble or gold. You had to trade. Yet
this was a nation of people who distrusted, even feared outsiders. Roo
considered his words.

"One must be careful with whom one is trading."

He waited, then said, "Else one must consider the risk of
contamination." Vasarius nodded.

"You are very perceptive for ... an
outsider." Roo shrugged.

"I am a businessman, first and foremost, and
while I have been lucky, I have also had to live by my wits. I would
not be here if I didn't sense an opportunity for mutual gain."

"We do
not permit many to trade in Queg, Mr. Avery. In the history of our
people there have been fewer than a dozen such concessions granted, and
all have been to merchants in the Free Cities or from Durbin. Never
has a Kingdom merchant been permitted such a privilege." Roo weighed
his options. If this had been a Kingdom merchant or noble with whom he
was speaking, he would have judged it time for a 'gift," as bribery was
part of doing business. But there was something about this man that
warned him away from making such an offer. After a moment he said, "I
would he content to remain in Krondor, and let my Quegan partner
conduct the business at this end. I am a shipper, and a ...
cooperation with a Quegan of rank and influence would be beneficial.

Also, there are cargoes that are difficult to secure anywhere else than
Queg. Vasarius leaned forward, his voice dropping.

"You surprise
me. I assumed you wanted to establish a presence here in Queg, Mr.
Avery."

Roo shook his head.

"I would be quickly disadvantaged by your local
businessmen, I am certain. No, I need the sure hand and practiced
intelligence of a man known in Queg for his perspicacity and wisdom.

Such a man would
benefit from such an arrangement, as would I." Roo fell silent.

Vasarius knew what he had to offer. He could bring in foodstuffs to
make this the most lavish table in Queg. Wines unmatched in all the
world. Silks from Kesh for his daughter and mistresses. Luxury items
that these people obviously craved. Roo glanced around the room. He
knew why these buildings were marble: there was abundant marble on
Queg. Wood was scarce. Most of the arable land had been cleared
centuries ago for crops. Sheep were the livestock of choice, as you
got more meat for less grass than with cattle. Everything about this
meal tonight spoke of a people who had prospered, but at a price. No,
Queg smelled ripe for imported luxury items from the Kingdom. Vasarius
said, "What do you offer?" Roo said, "Almost anything you can imagine,
m'lord." He paused, then he said, "Luxuries, rarities, and novelties."

Vasarius didn't blink. Roo spoke again.

"Lumber, coal, and beef." A
spark ignited in Vasarius's eyes, and Roo knew he was now an equal
player in this game. He felt a warm tingle of success begin to spread
inside him; Roo was in his element. It was time to haggle. Vasarius
said, "What cargo would you wish to secure?"

"Well, as a matter of fact
I have a commission, which, should I fulfill it, would be a great
beginning to any such trading association."

"What do you seek to buy?"

"Fire oil." Vasarius blinked. It was the most overt reaction Roo had
witnessed so far, and he knew that this was a man he didn't want to
face in a card game. But he knew he had surprised him.

"Fire oil?"

"Yes, I'm sure your intelligence has told you the Kingdom
is preparing for warHe slipped into the speech James had had him
memorize.

"Kesh moves along the Vale again, and we fear it seeks to
invade. With a new Prince in Krondor and no practiced General leading
the Armies of the West, it would be prudent to equip as well as
possible. we are training additional men for the Prince's army and seek
to bolster our defenses with fire oil. We know how to produce it, as I
am sure you're aware; it's no longer a secret. But we lack facilities
to produce it in sufficient volume to provide any viable amount."

"How
much do you desire?"

"Ten thousand barrels." Roo watched and again
there were flickers in the man's eyes: shock. followed almost at once
by greed. Roo reconsidered, and wondered if he could get this man into
a game of cards.

FOUR

Relationships

Dash laughed.. Jimmy said, "And then I asked, "Are the red bulbs more
difficult to cultivate than the yellow?" Owen Greylock, Knight-Captain
of the Prince's Army of the West, said, "You came close to a personal
insult, James." Jimmy smiled.

"In that strange land, what I said was
far more important than what I meantHe took another drink from his ale.

"I might have found the girl attractive in different circumstances,
but her contempt for me simply because I came from another land ... it
made any notion of romance impossible." Roo said, "Well, you didn't
seem to have any problems with that young serving girl later that
night." J*U=Y smiled.

"I thought you were asleep." Roo shook his head.

"I was, but you woke me up. I decided it was less awkward to feign
sleep. Besides, I've had friends coupling a few feet away before, in
camp." He glanced at Erik. Kitty, who had been standing behind Roo,
filling ale tankards, said, 'oh?" in a meaningful tone, then turned and
walked away. Roo laughed, and so did the others as Erik began to blush.

"What's this, then?" asked Duncan Avery.

"Some
thing going on between you two?o Erik said, "Not that I'm aware of." He
glanced at Kitty's retreating back.

"I don't think so, anyway."

"Think so' said Jadow Shati.

"Man, there either is or there isn't.

That's simple enough even for someone as dim as you, and th ats the
truth." Erik stood up.

"I guess. Excuse me." Jadow laughed as Erik
followed Kitty. The Sergeant from the Vale of Dreams sabd, "Man, if
that boy was any dumber when it comes to women, we'd have to kill him
to put him out of his misery." Jimmy glanced at his brother, and Dash
said, "I don't know. Kitty's a strange girl. I think she just ...
likes having someone solid around." Roo said, "Erik's that." Erik
reached the bar and said, "Kitty?"

"Yes, Sergeant Major?" she asked
coolly.

"Ah..." He blushed again. She fixed him with an unwavering
glance.

"I ... uh." Spit it out before you choke."

"What did you mean,
at the table?"

"Mean?" she asked, a skeptical expression on her face.

"By what?"

"By that oh"."

"Nothing. Just "oh," as in "oh." Erik
suddenly realized he was being made a fool of, and he felt his
color--rising.

"You're making sport of me." She reached across the bar
and patted his cheek.

"It's so easy to do."

"What is this?" he asked,
losing any sense of humor in the situation.

"Are you mad at me?" She
sighed.

"I'm just mad at men in general." Erik said, "Well, take it
out on someone else." Her eyes narrowed.

"You've suddenly got a tender
side for a man who's killed dozens and bedded whores next to his
friends." Erik felt flustered. This girl's attitude was getting under
his skin.

"What would you have of me?" he asked in exasperation.

Kitty studied his face a long, silent moment, then said in a low voice,
"I don't know." Erik stared at her. The torchlight reflected off a
faint sheen of moisture on her upper lip. She was perspiring lightly
despite the cool of the evening. After a moment, she asked, "What do
you want?" Erik shook his head.

"I don't know either, but I.... I
didn't like the way things felt when you..

said "oh"?" she finished for him.

Said that way, it sounded so silly Erik had to laugh.

"Yes, i guess
that's what I mean."

"Come with me," she said. She gestured to one of
the other girls that she was leaving, and led Erik through the kitchen,
past the cook and his helpers, through a rear door into the courtyard
behind the inn. For a moment Erik experienced an odd sensation of
familiarity; he had grown up in such a yard, with the stable and forge,
well and hayloft, behind an inn. There was a wooden bench around the
well, used by those too short to pull up the bucket easily, and Kitty
went and sat on it, motioning for Erik to sit next to her. Erik said,
"It's quiet back here." Kitty shrugged.

"I never noticed. I'm usually
too busy." Erik sat and Kitty leaned over and kissed him. He held
still an instant, then he returned her kiss. After a long moment, she
sat back, looking at him. Finally she said, "I've never done that
before."

"Kissed a man?" Erik said, his voice showing his surprise.

"I'm a thief, not a whore," she said.

"I've been raped and had men
stick their tongues in my mouth, but I've never kissed anyone before."

Erik's mouth hung open, and then he shut it.

"What about Bobby?" he
asked finally. She shrugged.

"What about him?"

"Well, I thought ..

He hesitated.

"Well, we just assumed You and he..."

She looked down.

"I would have, if he'd asked. He was good to me.

Better than I deserved, I think. I mean, he treated me roughly that
night you caught me, and he threatened to hang me and the like, but
mostly he made me laugh. And he kept others from hurting me." She
pointed to the bacs of the inn.

"I've got to watch for Mockers, or
anyone else nosing around, but what I -am now is just a barmaid.

That's not bad, 'cause I won't whore." She looked down.

"I would have
lain down for Bobby, 'cause he was good to me, but he didn't love me
and I didn't love him. Not that way." She looked at Erik.

"I don't
think there was anyone he loved, maybe 'cept for Captain Calis."

"Bobby
was devoted to him."

"I thought for a while he might be one of those
men who love other men." She made a motion with her hand as if flipping
something over.

"Not that I care I'm no follower of Sung the Pure,
but you do wonder. Then I heard he was a regular down at the White
Wing, so I figure he's just got it in his head to get his itch
scratched by someone who's.. ." She searched for a concept.

"Not
special to him?" Erik supplied.

"Ya," she agreed.

"That's it. Like if
he did it with me or someone else who wasn't a whore, it might make
things ... you know, different." Erik nodded that he understood. She
sighed.

"Bobby joked and made me laugh. At first I was scared of him,
because he said he would kill me if I betrayed the Prince or the Duke,
and I saw in his eyes he meant it. But after a while, when folks here
treated me right, well, I stopped being afraid.

"I've got no place to
go, so like it or not, this is my home." She was silent awhile, looking
at the inn.

"It's not a bad life. I know something big's coming. You
can't work here and not figure out a few things. Soldiers who aren't
bragging on what they're doing, they're keeping secrets. So
something big's coming. I don't know what, and I think I don't want to
know." She paused, and stared up at the pale moon. Suddenly, she turned
her head to face Erik.

"But with Bobby gone, you're the man who's been
nicest to me. The men sometimes say things to the other girls, about
me,

but I don't mind. It's just, well, you've never been anything but nice
to me." Erik shrugged and said, "I know what it's like to have some
tough luck, I guess."You can't know what life is like on the street."

He said nothing, just watching her in the flickering torchlight. She
went on, "Girl children aren't thought much of, except for whores.

There's good money for little girls in some places." She hugged
herself.

"My mum was a whore, that's the truth. No one knows who my
father was. My mum threw me out when I was six. I think maybe she was
keeping me from the crib. Her whoremaster kept looking at me funny.

"I
got found by this man, named Daniels, and he took me to this place in
the sewers. They gave me food and told me they'd take care of me, but
I had to do what they said. There were other children there, too.

They didn't seem too bad off. They were dirty, mostly, but they were
fed.

"I begged, and I learned the best dodges. I could cry like I was
lost and if some mark stopped to see what the problem was, someone else
cut his purse. I started being the holder after a while."

"Holder?"

asked Erik.

"Cutpurse, he gets spotted, he gets stopped by the City
Watch, he'd better have nothing on him that don't belong. So most
Mockers work in teams. The cutpurse hands off the score as soon as he
can, and the holder moves to the bagman, who takes it to Mother's."

"Mother's?"

ii

"That's what the Mockers call the place we all live ... lived." oh.,
She said, "Anyway, I saw me mum and we talked after I'd been gone a few
years. She told me I had a sister, who was a whore. That was Betsy."

"You found her, then?"

"Yes, and we got along good. She didn't like me
being a thief and I didn't care much for her whoring, but we got along.

I liked her. She was the only one I knew who wasn't always after me
for something.

"When I got these' she pointed to her breasts 'some
of the men got rough with me. If I could stay close to the other cut
purses or hang out at Mother's, I was all right. But sometimes you just
can't stay in a crowd, you know what I mean?" Erik didn't, but he
nodded as if he did.

"I got poked a lot until I started dressing like I
was when you found me, like a boy, staying dirty, not smelling good."

Erik didn't know what to say, so he remained silent.

"What I'm saying
is I've never done nothing with a man that was 'cause I wanted." Erik
waited, and when she didn't speak, he softly asked, "Are you telling me
you want to now?" Tears welled up in her eyes as she almost
imperceptibly nodded. He sighed as he gathered her into his arms.

Erik had never felt so unsure of himself before. He had been with
whores since he had joined the army, and he remembered what the first
one told him, to go easy, but every woman he had lain with knew more
than he did. Now he was being asked to lie with a girl who knew only
violence at the hands of men. He kissed her on the cheek and then the
chin, then the lips. At first she was very still, then after a few
more kisses she began responding. Soon she stood and took him by
the hand and led him into the barn, toward the loft where she slept.

,"Erik!" came the familiar voice.

"You up there?" A sleepy 'wuzat?"

came from Kitty as she nestled in his arms. Their lovemaking had been
tentative, slow, and awkward at first, then building until Erik felt he
was in the midst of battle, as Kitty exploded in a riot of emotions
in his arms. Laughter mixed with tears was unleashed by his touch, and
at the end she lay exhausted, as did he. A while later they made love a
second time, and Kitty was much more sure of what it was she wanted.

Erik had never experienced anything like this with another woman. He
wondered if he was in love. He raised up on one arm as the caller again
shouted his name.

"Nakor, I'm going to kill you," Erik muttered as he
sat up and began to dress. Kitty came awake.

"Is that the funny
gambler?" she asked. Erik said, "He's not being very funny at the
moment." As he pulled on his boots, she slipped her arms around his
waist and said, "Thank you." He stopped.

"For what?"

"For showing me
what the other girls always talked about." Erik sat motionless for a
moment.

"You're welcome, I think." She leaned her head on his
shoulder.

"You think?"

"It wasn't a favor," he said in a curt tone.

"Oh, you enjoyed it, too?" she asked innocently. Erik realized she was
again teasing him. He was pleased it was too dark for her to see him
blush.

"I ought to spank You for that," he muttered * She kissed his
shoulder.

"Some of the girls at the White Wing charge extra for that,
I've been told." A wave of uncertainty gripped Erik, as real as a
sword
ii
thrust in his chest. He turned and gripped her by the arms, harder
than he intended, and when he saw the look of panic in her eyes, he
instantly released his hold.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"But I can't
stand it when you mock me."

She looked at his %ce as tears formed in his eyes and suddenly she was
crying. She laid her chin on his shoulder, cheek to cheek with him, as
she whispered, "I'm sorry, too. I don't know how to be any other way."

"I will never hurt you," he whispered.

"I know," she whispered back.

"I'm all jumbled inside." Then she pulled back and he saw she was
smiling.

"And it's your fault, Erik von Darkmoor." He kissed her.

Soon, a cough sounded and Erik turned to see Nakor's head poking up
from below as he stood on the ladder to the loft.

"There you are!"

Without a word, Erik extended his leg, pushing the ladder away from the
loft, and watched it vanish, with a satisfying squawk from Nakor, into
the gloom. A loud thud and an "Oof of breath exploding from Nakor's
lungs followed. Kitty laughed and Erik finished dressing. After a
moment, as Nakor lay groaning dramatically from atop a pile of hay,
Erik said, "When you're done with your act, put the ladder back up."

The groaning was instantly replaced by a chuckle.

"You know me too
well," said Nakor. The ladder reappeared at the edge of the loft and
Erik glanced at Kitty, who was dressed. He went down the ladder first,
and she followed. Nakor said, "Sorry to have bothered you and your lady
friend, but I needed to see you."

"Why?" asked Erik.

"To say good-bye
for a while." Erik saw that Sho Pi, his onetime comrade-in-arms and

now Nakor's student, was standing silently by the doorway of the barn.

"Where are you going?" asked Erik.

"Down to Stardock again. The King
has asked me to return there while Lord Arutha returns to work for his
father." Then his expression turned serious.

"Something's
going on. Prince Erland sailed into port tonight aboard a Keshian
cutter." Erik said, "Nothing we can talk about." Nakor nodded.

"I
think I know what you mean." Erik said, "Well, have a safe journey and
let me know when you return to the city." Nakor nodded.

"We'll be
back." He motioned for Sho Pi to follow as he left the barn, and Erik
watched them vanish into the night.

"That is the strangest little man,"
said Kitty. You are far from the first to observe that," said Erik.

still, he's a good man and worth six when you're out on the trail. The
things he knows are astonishing. He claims there's no magic, but if
there's anyone who's a better magician out there, I've not met him."

Kitty came and leaned in to Erik and he slipped his arm around her
waist.

"What did he mean, "Something's going on"?"

Erik turned and kissed her.

"You catch spies, and you want me to talk
about secrets?" She nodded, resting her cheek against his chest.

"I
sometimes think I know what is going on, Erik, as I piece together bits
of things heard here and there. Other times I'm not sure even what I'm
doing here. Since Bobby died I often think I'm in one of those places
the priests talk about, one of the lesser hells. I can't leave the inn
unless I've a pair of guards with me. The Mockers have put the death
mark on me, but they're the only family I've known." Erik couldn't
think of anything to say. He hugged her.

"If I get some time off soon,
I'll take you somewhere, someplace different, away from the city."

She clung to him a minute, then said, "I have to get back." He walked
toward the rear door of the inn and removed his arm from around her
waist when they got there. Saying nothing, he followed her inside.

She silently moved through the kitchen and took her usual station
behind the bar. Jadow Shati and Owen Greylock still sat at the table,
but Roo had departed.

"Where's Roo?" Erik asked as he sat.

"When you
didn't come back, he, Jimmy, and Dash left. Something about an
important appointment," answered Greylock.

"Did Nakor find you?" asked
Jadow innocently.

"Yes," answered Erik as he sat.

"Not at too awkward a
moment, I hope," said Jadow, his face splitting into a wide grin. Erik
blushed and said, "No."

"That's good," said Jadow. Then he exploded
into a laugh so infectious Greylock and Erik were forced to join in.

Kitty approached with a fresh pitcher of ale.

"What's so funny?" she
asked. Her tone was one of potential injury, and her expression spoke
volumes: if she was the butt of some joke told by Erik, some brag of
conquest, no repair would ever be possible to the damage done. Adroitly
Greylock said, "Nakor," and started to laugh again.

"Oh," said Kitty,
as if that explained everything. She smiled at Erik and he returned
the smile. After she left, Jadow said, "So there is something going on
with you two?" Erik nodded.

"And it scares the hell out of me."

Greylock held up his fresh ale, as if in a toast.

"That's serious."

Jadow nodded sagely.

"Very serious, man. It can only be one thing."

"What?" said Erik, a tone of worry in his voice.

"Oh, man, he does have
it bad," said Jadow.

"That's the truth," answered Greylock.

"What?"

demanded Erik. Greylock said, "Never been in love before?" Jadow
retorted, "He's too stupid to know if he has."

Erik sat back and said, "I guess not." His brow furrowed and he stared
into his ale as if he'd find an answer in it. Then suddenly he grinned
and looked at the faces of his two friends.

"I guess not." He turned
to gaze at Kitty, who was busy cleaning behind the bar, talking quietly
with another of the working girls, then turned back to his friends.

"I'm in love," he said as if it were a revelation. Suddenly Greylock
and Jadow couldn't contain themselves and started laughing again.

After the mirth died, Jadow said, "Come on, boy. You need another
drink." Greylock shook his head and sighed.

"Ah, to be young again."

Erik just sat silently, wondering at all the odd feelings of delight
and uncertainty within He stole a glance at Kitty and saw her watching
him. He smiled at her and she returned it, and he felt joyous inside.

Then while Jadow and Greylock exchanged witty remarks, a dark cloud
descended over Erik, as he considered the coming battle. How could he
afford the time for anything other than that, he wondered to himself.

Sylvia bit Roo playfully on the neck.

"Ow," he said, half in jest, half
in real pain "That was too hard." She pouted.

"I need to punish you.

You've been gone too long." She snuggled down into the crook of his arm
as he said, "I know. The closer we get-' He caught himself. He was
about to say 'to the invasion."

"Closer to what?" she asked, very attentively. He studied her face in
the candlelight. He had come to her house late and they had gone
straight to bed. Her father was away on business, she said, so he
planned on spending the entire night, rather than returning to his town
house before dawn, as was his habit when Jacob Esterbrook was at home.

Thinking about what he had found about her father's advantage over
Roo's companies in trade with Great Kesh, he again wondered if he was
saying anything that she was repeating to her father. He pushed aside
the concern.

"I mean, as I get closer to this goal I have, controlling
all shipping on the Bitter Sea, I seem to have less time for anything
else." She bit him on the shoulder again, this time hard enough to make
him genuinely cry out.

"Explain that to your wife," she said,
indicating the teeth marks she'd left. She got out of bed, and Roo
marveled at the sight of her naked body. She was the most beautiful
woman he had ever encountered, and in the light of the single candle
she seemed sculpted from living marble, without flaw. He thought about
his own wife's pudgy body, without a hint of strength in the muscle,
the marks on her left by childbirth, and he found himself astonished by
his ability to make love to Karli. As Sylvia put on her robe, he said,
"What's gotten into you?"

"You have time to spend with Helen Jacoby,
but you spend days away from me." Roo said, "You can't possibly be
jealous of Helen?"

"Why not?" She turned, an accusatory expression on
her face as he sat up in her bed.

"You spend time with her. She's not
unattractive in a raw-boned peasant-girl fashion. You've mentioned you
respect her wit, far too many times for my liking." Roo got out of bed,
and said, "I kwed her husband, Sylvia. I owe her some comfort. But I
have never touched her.

"You'd like touching her, I wager," said
Sylvia.

Roo tried to put his arms around her, but she brushed him aside and
moved away.

"Sylvia, you're being unfair."

"I'm being unfair?" she
said, turning and allowing her robe to fall open. Roo found himself
beginning to become aroused at the sight of her.

"You're the man with
the wife, children, and reputation. I was one of the most eligible
daughters in the Kingdom until I met you." Pouting, she moved toward
him, letting her breasts rub against his bare chest as she said, "I'm
the mistress. I'm the woman of no status. You can leave whenever you
want." Her hand began tracing small circles on his stomach. Roo's
breath came hard as he said, "I would never leave you, Sylvia."

Reaching down, she stroked him and said, "I know." He pulled off her
robe and carried her so quickly to the bed he almost tossed her onto
the covers. Quickly taking her, he pleaded his undying love while
Sylvia looked at the canopy overhead, fighting off a yawn. A
self-satisfied smile then formed on her lips that had nothing to do
with physical pleasure, and everything to do with power. Roo was on
his way to being the most important merchant in the history of the
Kingdom, and he was clearly under her power. She listened to Roo
breathe more rapidly as his passion mounted and she detached herself
from the experience. The novelty of his lovemaking had long since worn
off, and she preferred the talents of his cousin, Duncan, who was far
more attractive, and whose appetite for inventive love play matched her
own. She knew Roo would be appalled to discover that she and Duncan
often shared this bed, and occasionally invited one of the servants to
participate as well. She knew that Duncan would be malleable as long
as he had access to fine clothing, good food, rare wine, pretty women,
and the trappings of prosperity. He would make a fine lover
after she wed Roo, and a completely socially acceptable replacement for
him one day. As Roo neared the pinnacle of his ardor, Sylvia absently
wondered how long she need wait to wed the repellent little man after
she arranged the murder of his fat wife. At the thought of taking
control of both her father's financial empire and Roo's, Sylvia found
her own passion mounting at last, and as Roo could control himself no
longer, Sylvia joined him in a paroxysm of release, imagining herself
as the most powerful woman in Kingdom history.

Erik knocked on the door and William looked up.

"Yes, Sergeant Major?"

"If you have a minute, sir?" he asked. William waved him to a chair and
Erik sat.

"What is it?"

"Nothing to do with training," said Erik.

"That's going well. It's a personal matter." William sat back. His
expression was neutral. While serving together, each man had
occasionally let the other glimpse some facet of his personal life, but
neither had intentionally opened a conversation on a personal subject.

"I'm listening," said the Knight-Marshal of Krondor.

"I know this girl,
and, well, if you don't mind, I just need to talk about being a soldier
and getting married." William said nothing for a moment, then he nodded
"It's a difficult choice. Some handle family matters well Others
don't." He paused.the man who held this office before me, Gardan,
was once a sergeant like yourself. He served Lord Borric, Duke of
Crydee, when my father was a child there. He came to Krondor with
Prince Arutha and rose to this office. All the while he was married."

"How did he do with it?"

"Well, all things considered," said William.

"He had some children, one of whom became a soldier like him. He died
in the sacking of the Far Coast." Remembering what his stepfather,
Nathan, had told him of those days, Erik knew that many had died during
those raids.

"Gardan was already dead by then. Some of the other
children survived, I believe." William rose and closed the door behind
Erik and came to sit on the edge of his desk. Erik noticed that apart
from the formal tabard of his office, the Knight-Marshal elected to
wear a common soldier's uniform, without markings of rank.

"Look, with
what's coming..." William began. He fought for words, then said, "Is
any sort of relationship wise?"

"Wise or not, I have it," said Erik.

"I've never felt this way before about a girl." William smiled, and for
a moment Erik saw years drop from the man.

"I remember."

"If you don't
mind my asking, have you ever been married, sir?"

"No," said William,
and there was a hint of regret in his voice.

"My life never seemed to
have room for a family." He moved to his own chair and sat.

"Truth to
tell, my family hasn't had much room for me."

"Your father?" asked
Erik. William nodded.

"Time was we didn't speak to each other from
anger. We've since gotten over that. But it's hard. If you'd ever
met my father, you'd think he was my son. He looks but ten years older
than you." William sighed.

"The ironic thing, it turns out, was that
becoming a soldier, as I did, had been his own boyhood dream. He
insisted I study magic." William smiled.

"Can you imagine growing up
somewhere where everyone practices magic, or is married to someone who
does, or is the son or daughter of someone who does?" Erik shook his
head.

"It must run in your family, though. I met your sister." William
smiled ruefully.

"Another irony. Gamina's adopted into our family.

And she's far more adept at things magical than I.
"I have one pitiful
talent. I can speak with animals. They
tend toward short, uninteresting conversations. Except Fantus, of
course." At mention of the firedrake, Erik said, "I haven't seen him
around the palace lately."

"He comes and goes as it pleases him. And
if I ask him where he's been, he pointedly ignores me." Erik said, "I
still don't feel any closer to a decision than I did before." William
said, "I know that feeling, too. There was a young magician from
Stardock, a girl from the desert stock of the Jal-Pur, who came to
study with my father when I was a boy. She was two years older than I.
and "She was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen, dark skin and eyes
the color of coffee. She moved like a dancer and her laughter was
musical.

"I was smitten the first time I saw her. She knew me as the
Master's son, Pug's boy, and she knew I was infatuated with her. I
followed her around, making a pest of myself. She put up with me with
good grace, but after a while I think I wore her nerves thin." William
gazed out the window that overlooked the courtyard and said, "I think
her indifference to my plight was one of the big reasons I chose to
leave Stardock and come to Krondor." He smiled in remembrance.

"She
came two years later." Erik raised an eyebrow in question.

"Prince
Arutha's father had a magical adviser, a wonderful old character named
Kulgan. Far from the most powerful magician around, he may have been
among the most intelligent. He was like a grandfather to me in many
ways. His death hit my father very hard. Anyway, Prince Arutha decided
he wanted a magical adviser in his court, so he asked Pug to send his
best to Krondor. Father surprised everyone by sending her instead of
one of the masters; I thought at first he was sending her to check up
on me." He smiled ruefully in memory. William was almost laughing as he
went on, "You can imagine the consternation among the nobles when she
showed up and turned out not only to be Keshian, but to be distantly
related to one of the most powerful noble lords among the desert men of
the Jal-Pur. It took Prince Arutha's iron will to force the court into
accepting her." William sighed.

"Things got very difficult here the
day she showed up, some things I can't talk about, but suffice it to
say by the time we were done she and I had learned we were very
different people than we had been at Stardock . We also discovered that
my feelings hadn't changed, I was astonished to discover that the two
years apart had changed the way she looked at me. We became lovers."

Erik said nothing for a moment as William became lost in a moment of
remembering.

"We were together for six years."

"What happened?"

"She
died." Erik said, "If you don't want to talk about it-' "I don't,"
interrupted William. Erik looked uncomfortable.

"Well, I'll go, sir.

I didn't mean to open old wounds." William waved away the apology
before it came.

"You didn't. Those wounds are with me every day and
they are always open. It's one of the reasons I've never wed." As he
reached the door, Erik said, "If you don't mind my asking, sir, what
was her name?" Without looking at Erik, still staring out the window,
William said, "Jezharra.

"Erik closed the door behind him. As he
walked along the corridor leading to the marshaling yard, he considered
the conversation. No closer to knowing what he should do, he decided
to put his mind to the matters before him and let his feelings for
Kitty come as they might.

FIVE

Elvandar

Tomas sat motionless. King Redtree, Aron Earanorn in the elves'
language, spoke.

"In the years since we abandoned the Northlands to
return, we have attempted to understand our cousins." The leader of the
glamredhel, the 'mad' elves, those left to fend for themselves in the
Northlands beyond the Kingdom ages ago, fixed Queen Aglaranna with a
steady stare.

"We bow to you as ruler, here, lady' he made an
all-encompassing gesture with his right hand 'in Elvandar. But we do
not accept any suggestion that you rule us, absolutely." Tomas glanced
at his wife. The ruler of the Elves of Elvandar turned her softest
smile on the warrior who had ruled over his followers for almost as
many years as she had reigned in the elven glades.

"Earanorn, no one
here is suggesting anything," she countered.

"Those who chose to come
to Elvandar, by the call of ancient blood or as guests, are free to
leave at any time. Only those who chose to remain here of their own
accord are subject to our rule." The former King tapped his chin.

"That's the rub, isn't it?" He looked at the assembled elves in the
Queen's Council: Tathar, her senior adviser; Tomas, the half-human
Warleader and prince consort; Acaila, leader of the el dar who had
remained on the world of Kelewan until the human magician Pug had found
them; and others, including Pug and his current companion, Miranda.

After a long silence,

the old king asked, "Where would we go? Back to the Northlands and our
less generous cousins?" Tomas glanced at Pug, his boyhood companion,
foster brother, and ally in the Riftwar, and his eyes revealed that he,
too, knew the answer: there was nowhere else for these 'wild' elves to
go. Tomas turned his attention to Acaila, whose knowledge and power
never failed to astonish Pug, and raised a finger so slightly the human
magician barely noticed it. Acaila inclined his head but a fraction of
an inch, yet the Queen returned the barely perceptible nod.

"Why leave
at all?" asked the leader of the Eldar, those ancient elves who were
closest to the Dragon Lords, and
who kept their lore and knowledge.

"You have found your lost kindred
after centuries of isolation and no one seeks to return you to slavery,
yet you seem ill at ease. May one ask why?" Redtree let out a long
sigh.

"I'm an old man At this, Tathar, Acaila, and some others
laughed, without malice but with genuine amusement.

"Very well, so I'm
merely three hundred seventy years of age, while some here are twice
that, but the truth is the Edder Forest of the Northlands is a harsh
place, rife with enemies and scant of food. You have little sense of
that here, in the midst of Elvandar's bounty." He hugged himself
slightly as if memory of the Edder was chilling.

"We numbered no spell
weavers and the healing magic of Elvandar did not exist. Here a mild
wound heals with rest and food; there festering can take a warrior as
surely as an enemy's arrow." He held out his hand in a balled fist,
anger coloring his words.

"I have buried my wife and my sons. By my
people's experience, am a very old man." To Pug, Miranda whispered,
"And a long-winded one, too." She stifled a yawn. Pug tried not to
smile on the heels of the old king's emotional words, but he, like
Miranda and the others, had heard the tale of Redtree's battles and
losses many times in the months they had lived with the elves. Calin,
Aglaranna's older son and heir to her throne, spoke.

"I think over the
last thirty years we have demonstrated our goodwill, King Redtree. We
mourn your losses' others of the council nodded agreement'yet here
rests your people's best chance to thrive, returned to the heart of our
race.

"During the Riftwar and the Great Uprising, we lost many who now
rest in the Blessed Isles, yet we have gained, by your having found
your way here. in the end, all of elvenkind are profited." Redtree
nodded.

"I have considered my people's choices." He seemed to let go
of something, a hint of pride.

"I have no sons." Looking at Calin, he
said, "I need an heir." A young warrior of the glamredhel stepped to
his King's side, handing over a bundle wrapped in leather and tied in
thongs.

"This is the mark of my rank," said Redtree, untying the
bundle. As much as elves could display surprise, the assembled council
was surprised. Inside the skins was a belt of marvelous beauty: silken
threads that Pug judged were something more alien than silk held gems
of stunning brilliance in a pattern both lovely and compelling.

"Asle-thnath!" proclaimed Redtree. Pug studied the belt, shifting his
perceptions. To Miranda he whispered, "This is a thing of power."

"Really?" she asked dryly. Pug glanced at her and saw her smile, as she
tried to keep from laughing at him outright, and again he was visited
by the certainty that her power and knowledge were more than she
revealed. Acaila stepped down from the circling benches and came to
stand before Redtree.

"May I?" he asked. Redtree handed him the belt.

He examined it and then turned to Tathar.

"This is a great and
wonderful magic. Did you not know it was here?"

Tathar, senior among the Queen's Spellweavers, shook his head. With a
hint of irritation, he said, "Did you?" Acaila laughed, as he had often
laughed when teaching Pug for the year the magician had lived with the
el dar in Elvardein, Elvandar's twin forest, magically hidden under the
ice-cap on the world of Kelewan. There was no mockery in that laugh,
ever, but with a hint of irony, Acaila said, "There is that." He turned
back toward Redtree and
the ruler of the gk=edhel nodded slightly. Acaila turned as Tathar
stepped down from his place in the Queen's circle. Even though Acaila
was the undoubted leader in age and experience among the Queen's
advisers, he was a newcomer, and Tathar was Aglaranna's senior most
adviser. As Tathar took the belt and turned to present it to Caliri,
Redtree spoke.

"The belt is worn in high council and is passed from
the King to his son. As he who was my father gave the belt to me to
mark my position as heir, so I give this to you, Prince Calin." The
Elven Prince bowed his head as Acaila handed him the belt. He took it
and touched his forehead to it, and said, "Your nobility is
unquestioned. I accept your generosity with humility." Then Aglaranna
rose and said, "Again our people are one." To Redtree she said, "You
are truly Aron Earanorn." She bowed her head to him. An elf appeared
behind him with a new robe, and at the Queen's bidding, he placed it
over the armor and furs Redtree wore in the fashion of his people.

"You would honor our council by accepting a place in it." The old King
said, "The honor is mine." Acaila put out his hand and led Redtree to a
place between Tathar and himself. Pug smiled and winked at Miranda. By
placing the glamredhel above himself in council, yet behind Tathar, the
wise leader of the Eldar avoided years of possible
resentment by the glamredhel. Redtree would stand second only to
Tathar in council. Miranda motioned with her head for Pug to move away
from the council and when they were safely away from the discussion,
she said, "How long is this going to continue?" Pug shrugged.

"Redtree's people first came here about thirty years ago, twenty years
or so after Galain and Arutha ran into him after the fall of Armengar."

"They've been arguing who's in charge for thirty years?" asked Miranda,
her face showing disbelief.

"Discussing," said Tomas, appearing behind
them.

"Come with me." Tomas led and Miranda to a private area,
screened from the Queen's court by cleverly arrayed branches. On the
other side, he could look out over the tree city of Elvandar. Pug
asked, "Do you ever get used to it?" He studied his friend, again
finding the echoes of his foster brother in the alien etched features
of the tall warrior. Even in his ceremonial robes, Tomas radiated
strength and power. his pale blue eyes, nearly colorless, gazed across
the vista of Elvandar as he said.

"Yes. but its beauty never fails to
move me." Miranda said, "No one who's alive could not feel something."

It was evening and Elvandar was ablaze with a hundred cooking fires,
some on the ground below, others on platforms erected in the branches
of the trees. Throughout the community, glowing lanterns had been
ignited, but rather than the harsh yellow flame of a city lamp, these
glowed with a softer, blue-white light: elven globes, part natural,
part magic, and unique to this place. But the trees themselves also
were alight. branches Wun-iinated with a soft glow, a faint bluish or
greenish haze, as if the leaves were phosphorescent. Tomas turned, the
golden trimmed red robe flaring

slightly, and said, "Is it time for me to don my armor, old friend?"

"Soon, I fear," said Pug. Almost wistfully Tomas said, "When we were
victorious at Sethanon, I hoped we were done with this business." Pug
nodded.

"Hoped. But we knew sooner or later the

Pantathians would come again for the Lifestone." Pug's forehead
furrowed, as if he was about to say something additional, but he halted
himself.

"So long as your sword rests within the stone, and so long as
the Valheru are not finally vanquished, we did but buy time." Tomas did
not reply, but he continued to stare out over the railing at the
splendor of Elvandar.

"I know," he said at last.

"There will come a
time when I must retrieve that sword and finish what we started that
day." He had listened with keen interest when Miranda had recounted
what she and his son had discovered on their last voyage to the
southern continent. Tathar, Acaila, and the other Spellweavers had
questioned her repeatedly over the months since she had come, ferreting
out details she had forgotten. While Miranda's patience had been worn
thin on many occasions, the long-lived elves took the interminable
investigation as a matter of course. The sounds of voices announced
that Aglaranna and her advisers were coming to join her husband in
their private quarters. The Queen, followed by Tathar, Acaila,
Redtree, and Calin, entered. Miranda and Pug bowed their heads, but the
Queen said, "Court is over, my friends. We are here to discuss
important issues in an informal fashion." Miranda said, "Thank the
gods." Redtree scowled.

"My familiarity with your race is limited," he glanced at Acaila, who mouthed a word milady He pronounced the
word as something alien.

"But this rushing to action I've observed in
humans ... it's incomprehensible I'

"Rushing!" said Miranda, allowing her astonishment to show openly. Pug
said, "We have been dealing with the Pantathians for fifty years,
Redtree." The old elf took an offered goblet of wine and said, "Well,
you should have come up with some sense of the enemy, then." Suddenly
Pug realized that the old elf had his own sense of humor. It was
different from Acaila's, while just as dry: it had a mocking edge. Pug
grinned.

"You remind me of Martin Longbow." Redtree smiled and years
dropped from his face.

"Now, there's a human I like."

"Where is
Martin?" asked Tomas.

"Here," came a voice as the old former Duke of
Crydee climbed into view, mounting a flight of steps from below.

"I
don't move quite as spryly as I once did."

"You're still a fair hand
with a bow, Martin,"said Redtree. Then he added, "For a human." Martin
was the oldest living human Redtree might call a friend. Nearly ninety
years of age, Martin looked a man in his late sixties or early
seventies. His powerful shoulders and chest were still broad, though
his arms and legs were thinner than Pug remembered. Its skin looked
like old leather, sun-dried and wrinkled, and his hair was now
completely white. But his eyes were still alert, and Pug realized that
Martin, over the months he had stayed *m Elvandar, continued to have
his wits about him. There was no hint of the doddering in this old
man. While not quite rejuvenating him, the magic of Elvandar kept him
vigorous. Nodding at Miranda, Martin smiled.

"I've known the edhel,"
he said, using the elves' own term for their people, 'since I was a
baby, and their humor is often lost on humans." Miranda said, "As is
their sense of haste." She looked at

I>Ug.

"For months now, close to a year or more, you've been saying
that we must be about this or that mostly, "we must find Macros the
Black" yet I find us spending a great deal of time sitting around
doing little." Pug's eyes narrowed briefly. He knew Miranda was far
older than she looked, perhaps even older than his own seventy-odd
years, but often she displayed what he could only call an impatience
that surprised him. He seemed about to say one thing, then another.

At last he said, "Macros' slegacy to me included many things his
library, his
commentaries, and, to some extent, his powers but nothing could
replace his experience. If anyone can help us unlock the mystery of
what is behind all we face, it is he." Pug stood before Miranda and
looked into her eyes.

"I can not help but feel that far behind all we
have seen lurks another mystery, one far more profound and dangerous
than what we yet know." Then his tone lightened slightly as in a
mock-chiding voice, he added, "And I would expect you as much as
anyone, to realize that often when one ,5 S ~o ,t,onless, the most
thought is being applied to the problems at hand." Miranda said, "I
know, but I feel like a horse too long held under rein; I feel the need
to be doing something!" Pug turned to Tomas.

"There we have the
problem, don't we?" Tomas nodded, glancing at the oldest, wisest minds
in the Council of Elvandar.

"What is to be done?" he asked. Pug said,
"Once you found Macros by leading me into the Halls of the Dead. Would
it be useful to return there?" Tomas shook his head.

"I don't think
so; do you?" Pug shrugged.

"Not really. I'm not even sure what I
would say should we again face Lims-Kragma. I know more now than I did
then, but of the nature of the gods and those other agents who serve
them I still feel ignorant. In any event, I'm grasping at straws." He
was silent a moment, frustration clearly evident on his features.

Then
he said, "No, the realm of the dead would be a waste of time." Acaila
said, "Those beings are not meant for easy apprehension by those who
live mortal spans. But indulge me one question, Pug: why would it be a
waste of time to seek this person in) the Halls of the Dead?" Pug said,
"I really don't know. A feeling, nothing more. I'm certain Macros is
alive." He then described how when they had last sought the Black
Sorcerer, Gathis then Macros's and now Pug's majordomo at Sorcerer's
Island had indicated that there was a bond between them, and should
Macros he dead Gathis would somehow know it. Pug finished by saying,
"Several times over the last few years I've had this sense that Macros
was not only still alive but..." Miranda now looked thoroughly
irritated.

"What?" Pug shrugged.

"That he was somehow close by."

Under her breath she let out a sound of aggravation.

"That wouldn't
surprise me." Martin smiled with wry amusement and asked, "Why?"

Miranda glanced out over the lights of Elvandar and said, "Because my
experience is that most of these "legendary" individuals turn out to be
no more than a well-constructed sham, designed to convince us all of
their importance, rather than any real indication of their true
significance." Aglaranna sipped her wine and sat next to Tomas on a
long bench by the railing.

"You sound more than irritated in a general
way, Miranda." Miranda dropped her gaze a moment; when she raised it to
look at the Elf Queen, she was composed.

"Forgive my petulance, lady.

We of Kesh often struggle with issues of appearance, rank, and court
standing that have nothing to do with worth or value in any real sense.

Many n*se high by dint of birth while others far more worthy never
achieve any significance, their lives spent in trivial work. Yet those
"great" nobles have no sense they achieved high
rank by a simple accident of birth." She made a sour expression.

"They
think the fact their mothers were who they were ample proof of the
gods' favor. Given my ... history, I have had to deal with more than
my share of such men. I have ... little patience, I fear, for such as
they."

"Well," said Tomas, "Macros did construct his own legend to
protect his privacy, I'll grant, but as one who stood
beside him more than once I can attest his legend is nothing but a
shadow of his real power. He faced a dozen Tsurani Great Ones in this
very forest. and while the magic of our Spellweavers aided our
struggle, against the alien magicians he alone strove. and he
destroyed their works and sent them fleeing to their own world. He is
alone among men I would dread opposing. His power is nothing short of
astonishing." Pug nodded.

"Which is why we need to find him."

"Where
do we start?" asked Miranda calmly.

"The Hall?" Pug said, "I don't
think so. There are too many people willing to sell information who
live in the Hall of Worlds." Dryly he added, "And not all of it is
accurate." He sat across from the Elf Queen, and said, "I thought we
might journey to the City Forever and question the Dreadmaster we
imprisoned there." Tomas shrugged.

"I doubt he would know much more
than we already discovered. He was but a tool." Acaila said, "Have you
considered this sorcerer might be here on Midkemia?" Martin said,
"Why?" The el dar said, "Pug's "feeling." it is something I would not
dismiss or set aside lightly. Often such feelings are our own minds
informing us of something we haven't apprehended consciously."

"True,"
said Redtree, taking a bite from a large red apple.

"In the wilds one's
instincts must serve, else a hunter doesn't return with food for his
family, or a warrior is left

behind on the field of battle." Looking at Pug, he said, "Where did you
feel this Macros's presence the most?"

"Oddly enough," said Pug, 'at
Stardock."

"You didn't say anything," offered Miranda, her voice almost
accusing. Pug smiled.

"I was often distracted." Miranda had the grace
to blush.

"You could have said something at one time or another." Pug
shrugged.

"I disn-iis sed it as stemming from the fact that most of
his powerful tomes and scrolls are housed in my tower. I often feel as
if he's looking over my shoulder when I read them." Tathar said, "There
is also this matter of that artifact retrieved from the southern
continent." Aglaranna spoke.

"The Spellweavers feel there is something
alien about it."

"Absolutely," said Tomas, 'and it is more than the
Pantathian presence. There is something about this that is alien even
to the Valheru."

Martin said, "There is something I don't understand."

"What, old
friend?" asked Calin.

"In all of this, since the first Tsurani ship was
wrecked on Crydee shores, to the fall of Sethanon, no one has asked one
important question."

"Which is?" asked Acaila.

"Why have all these
plots, all these plans, involved such chaos and destruction?" Tomas
said, "It is the nature of the Valheru." Martin said, "But we haven't
faced the Dragon Lords; we've faced only their agents, the Pantathians,
as well as those who've served or were duped by them." Pug tried to
dismiss Martin's observation.

"I think we've seen ample proof of the
nature of the Pantathians." Martin said, "You mistake my meaning. What
I'm saying is that in all of this, much is without apparent motive.

We've assumed things, over the years, about why and how I i
the Pantathians were acting in the fashion they have, but we don't know
why they're behaving the way they are." Pug said, "I must be guilty of
some oversight. I still don't see your meaning." Miranda said,
"Because you're not paying attention." She stepped past Pug to stand
before Martin.

"You've got an
idea." It wasn't a question. The old bowman nodded. Turning to Tathar,
Acaila and Redtree, he said, "Feel free to correct anything I say that
isn't as it should be." To Pug and Tomas he said, "You have powers I
cannot begin to imagine, but I have spent most of my life here, in the
West, and I know the lore of the edhel as well as most men, I wager."

"Better than any human living," offered Tathar.

"In the lore of the
eledhel," said Martin, 'some things are said about the Ancient Ones."

He faced the Queen.

"Most Gracious Lady, why is that usage preferred?"

The Queen considered the question a moment, then said, "Tradition. It
was once believed that to see the name of the Valheru would be to call
their attention." Miranda said, "A superstition?" Martin looked to
Tomas.

"A superstition?" he repeated. Tomas said, "Much of the
memories given to me of the ancient times is clouded, and even those
that are well remembered are the memories of another being. We share
much, but much is also unknown to me. The power was once given to the
el dar to call us by speaking our names aloud. That may be where this
belief originated." Martin, better than anyone except Pug, fully
understood the strange duality of Tomas. He had known this half-alien
man when Tomas and Pug had been boys at Castle Crydee, and had watched
as the mystic armor of the long-dead Dragon Lord Ashen-Shugar had
transformed Tomas into the strange being he was today, neither fully
man nor Dragon Lord but something of both.

II0

Tomas looked at the el dar and said, "Acaila?" The old elf nodded.

-the legends say such. We who were first among the slaves of the
Valheru were able to contact them. This may have given rise to the
practice of never speaking their names aloud." Miranda said, "W). at,
then, is your point?" Martin shrugged.

"I'm not even sure I have one,
but it seems to me that we're making many assumptions here, and if any
one of them is incorrect, we risk all by building our plans upon such
mistaken beliefs." He stared into Miranda's eyes.

"You returned from
the land on the other side of the world with artifacts, apparently made
by the Ancient Ones, yet Pug and Calis both say they are "tainted," not
what they seem to be." Acaila again nodded.

"They are not pure. We
know enough of our former masters to recognize another hand has touched
these items."

"Yet they sing to you?" offered Pug.

"Yes, they are much
of the Valheru," offered Aglaranna. Martin said, "So, then, whose is
that other hand?"

"The third player," said Pug. Looking at Miranda, he
said, "The demon I assume that's who he meant." I Martin nodded.

"I
think so, as well. What if the Pantathian are not tools of the Ancient
Ones, but rather are tools of these demons?" Tomas said, "That would
explain a few things."

"Such as?" asked Redtree, taking a sip of wine.

Pug said, "The Dread, for one." Acaila asked, "What of them?" Tomas
said, "They are an unlikely ally for my brethren." ]Re used the term
brethren for the Valheru when he was caught up in thinking as one. ~
"And an even less likely tool," supplied Acaila.

"What lore has passed
down through the generations of the el dar always shows the Dread to be
rivals to the Valheru on the occasions when they crossed paths."

ill
yet," said Pug, 'we didn't consider the oddity at the time." With a
faint smile, Tomas said, "We were a bit preoccupied."

Pug's brow furrowed and his expression was a question. The Riftwar?"

Tomas added, with a laugh.

i>Pug returned the laugh.

"I know what you mean, but what I mean is,
why didn't you think of this before?" It was Tomas's turn to look
perplexed.

"I don't know. I just assumed the presence of the
Dreadmaster in the City Forever and the Dreadlord at Sethanon were part
of the Valheru attempt to distract us. I assumed somehow the
Pantathians made contact with those creatures' Acaila interrupted.

"You have memories and some knowledge, and great power, Tomas, but you
lack experience. You are less than a century of age, yet you wear
powers not gained in five times that span." He looked around the
gathering.

"We are as children when we speak of beings like the
Valheru and Dreadlords. We are presuming when we attempt to understand
them, or apprehend their purpose." Pug said, "I grant that, but we must
try, for there are things that cannot be allowed to simply come to us;

we must discover the purpose behind those who seek to take the
Lifestone and end us all." Miranda said, "All of which brings us back
to this: we know little and we need to find Macros the Black, and you
still haven't suggested where we start to look." Pug looked defeated.

"I don't know." Acaila said, "Perhaps you should cease looking for a
place, and begin looking for a person."

"What do you mean?" asked Pug.

The ancient elf said, "You spoke of a sense of Macros being close by.

Perhaps it is time to turn your focus on that sense, look for the
presence, and let it lead you to the man."

Pug said, "I don't imagine how that is possible."

"You studied with me
for a brief time, Pug. There are many things we have to teach you
still. Let me instruct you and Miranda now." Pug looked at his
companion, who nodded.

"Do I need to come along?" asked Tomas. Acaila
looked at the Warleader of Elvandar and shook his head.

"You'll know
when it is time to leave, Tomas." To those of the Queen's Court he
said, "We will need to retire to the contemplation glade. Tathar, I
would appreciate your help in this matter." The old elven adviser bowed
to his Queen and said, "By your leave, lady?" She nodded and the four
of them left the Queen and Tomas's private quarters. Down through the
bowers that formed the elven city in the trees they moved, until they
came to the ground, where large cook fires were brightly burning. They
moved silently away from the heart of Elvandar until at last they came
to a tranquil glade. Here Tomas and Aglaranna had pledged their vows;

here only those ceremonies most important to the elves were conducted.

Pug said, "We are honored."

"It is necessary," said Acaila.

"Here our
Magic is most potent, and I suspect we need to use it to ensure your
survival."

"What do you propose?"

"Tomas spoke to me of your previous
travels to the Halls of the Dead, through the entrance at the
Necropolis of the Gods. While we have a different vision of the
universe and its order, we elves understand your human vision enough to
know that only Tomas's raw strength allowed you to survive that
journey."

"I awoke with my lungs burning and feeling as if I had been
frozen to my bones," said Pug. Acaila said, "You do not enter the realm
of death while
you are alive not unless you make extensive preparations."

Pug said, "Are we to return to Lims-Kragma's halls?" Perhaps," said
Acaila.

"That is why we must do what we are to do here. Time passes
differently in other realms, that much we remember from our Master's
travels across the dimensions. You may be gone but hours, yet
experience years. You may be gone months, yet experience minutes. We
have no means to know which will be true. However long it takes, you
are to leave your bodies for a while.

Tathar and I will ensure your bodies are ready to receive you when you
return. We shall keep you alive." Miranda said, "We appreciate the
effort." Pug turned and saw her dubious expression.

"You don't have to
come," he said.

"I must," she said.

"You'll understand."

"When?"

"Soon, I think," she answered.

"What must we do?" Pug asked Acaila.

"Lie down," he answered. They did as he bade and he said, "First, you
must remember what I said about the passage of time. This is
important, for you must hurry while you are in spirit form. If you
linger but for an hour, months may pass here on Midkemia, and we know
how quickly the enemy approaches. Second, your bodies will follow your
spirits. When you return, you may not find yourselves here. If all
goes as we hope, you will arrive where you need to be, and Tathar and I
will know you were successful because you will awaken here or your
bodies will vanish from our sight. Last, we cannot help you return.

This is something you must accomplish by your own arts. We shall know
if you fail only when your bodies die despite our efforts. Our arts
can do only so much.

"Now close your eyes and attempt to sleep. You
will see visions. When they first come to you, they will be as
dreams. But they will become more real to you as the moments pass.

When I call to you, stand up." Pug and Miranda closed their eyes. Pug
heard Acaila's voice as the ancient el dar Spellweaver began chanting.

There was something tantalizingly familiar;i about the words, but he
could) not quite recognize them. It was as if he heard the words of a
song forgotten the moment he heard the words. Soon he dreamed of
Elvandar. He could see the faint glow of the magic-imbued trees above
him, as if his eyes were open. But they appeared to him as brilliant
shimmering colors, blues and greens, golds and whites, reds and
oranges, and the sky was as black as the darkest tunnel under the
mountains. Pug 'looked' deep into that void and soon found specks of
color appearing against the blackness. Time passed unnoticed as he saw
the spirits of stars dance across the heavens. A strange, distant
keening sound intruded on his awareness, also familiar yet
unrecognized. Time continued to slip by, and Pug was lost in an aware
ness unlike anything he had ever experienced. The texture of the
universe lay open to him, not the outer shapes, or even the illusions
of matter and time, but the very fabric of reality. He wondered if
this was the 'stuff' Nakor spoke of, the fundamental matter of all that
was. His mind started to soar, to voyage through the distances' and he
discovered he could move at will from place to place. Yet he sensed he
still lay in the grove. Something about his body had changed, and he
felt alien powers and odd sensations course through him. Not since his
time on the Tower of Testing, high above the Assembly on the distant
world of Kelewan, had he felt so connected to the world around him.

Thinking of that time in his life, he turned and looked down at
Midkemia. Suddenly he floated miles above the highest peaks of the
Kingdom, with seas and coastlines looking like maps

II5

to his perception But rather than flat lifeless things, the very land
and seas were living things, pulsing with power and beauty. He shifted
his perceptions and saw every fish swimming in the sea. How very much
like being a god, he thought.

"Pug." A distant call and one that almost
caused him to lose his perception.

"Find Macros," came the instruction.

"And 'ware the
time," He glanced one way and another, and every being on the world had
a signature of energy, a line of force that started at Sethanon, at the
Lifestone, which bound all living things in Midkemia together. As time
passed, lines vanished as beings died, and new lines sprouted from it
as births occurred. It looked like nothing so much as an emerald
fountain of pulsing energy, life incarnate, and it took Pug's breath
away. Among the myriad strands he sought one, one with a familiar
quality to it. He lost track of time, and did not know if hours or
years passed, yet eventually he saw something familiar. The Sorcerer,
he thought as he saw a particular pulsing line of force. How strong
and distinct it was, he thought as he focused. But it was odd. It
existed in two places at the same time.

"Arise!" came the spoken
command, and Pug stood up. He saw Acaila and Tathar, but they looked
alien to him, beings of coarse matter and finite energy, while he was a
creature of enhanced perception and unlimited power. He glanced at
Miranda and saw a being of stunning beauty. She wore no clothing and
revealed no hint of sex. Where he should have seen breast and hips, as
familiar to him as his own body, he saw only smoothness, featureless
and without distinguishing marks. Her face was an oval, with a pair of
burning lights where eyes should be. She had no nose. A single slit
where her mouth should have been

moved, but rather than his hearing her voice, her mind touched his.

"Pug?" Miranda asked.

"Yes," he answered.

"Do I look as odd to you as
you do to me?" she said.

"You look stunning' he replied. Suddenly he
was seeing himself through her eyes. He was as featureless as she.

They were of like height and they both existed with a shimmer of energy
illuminating them from within Neither had hair or sexual organs, teeth
or fingernails. From a great distance they heard Acaila's voice.

"What
you see are your true selves. Look down." They did, and saw their own
bodies lying on the grass, as if asleep.

"Hurry, now," said Acaila.

"Follow the thread that leads you to Macros, for the longer you are out
of your bodies, the harder it will be for you to return. We will keep
you alive, and when it comes time to return, you only have to think of
it. Your bodies will appear wherever you need them to be," he
repeated.

"May your gods protect you." Pug sent, "We understand." He
said to Miranda, "Are you ready?"

"Yes," she replied.

"Where do we
go?" With a thought he made the thread appear to her, and he said, "We
follow that!"

"Where does it lead?" she asked as he reached out with
his mind and took her hand leading her along the threads path.

"Don't
you sense it?" he asked.

"It is going to the one place I should have
expected it to lead us. It's taking us to the Celestial City. We
travel to the home of the gods!"

six

Infiltration

Calis pointed. Erik nodded, then signaled for his squad to move out
behind him. The men duck-walked in the gully, keeping their heads
below the rim of the wash through which they were approaching their
opposition. Erik was both sick to death of this drilling and frantic
that it might not be enough. In the six months since he had taken the
first band of soldiers into the mountains, he
had judged he had a solid twelve hundred soldiers under his command,
reliable men who would survive on their own for as long as possible.

There were another six hundred men who were close, needing a bit more
training. The band he led now were those he feared would never become
the soldiers needed to win this coming war. Alfred tapped him on the
shoulder and Erik turned. The corporal pointed to a man on the other
side of the gully, who was not walking as instructed, letting the
discomfort in his knees drive him to recklessness. Erik nodded, and
Alfred nearly dove to get to the man and pull him to the floor of the
gully. Sharp rocks cut both men, but Alfred's hand damped hard over
the soldier's mouth, preventing his cry from being heard by the nearby
sentries. Erik could hear his corporal's whisper: "Now, Davy, your
sore knees just got you and your comrades killed." A distant voice told
Erik the exercise was a failure, and

as if reading Erik's mind, Calis stood and said.

"This is done." Erik
and the others rose and Alfred jerked the soldier named Davy to his
feet with one powerful tug. Now his voice was unleashed in all its
volume and fury.

"You rock headed layabout, you sorry excuse for a
water boy! You'll regret the day your father looked at your mother
when I'm done with you." Calis heard a challenge, turned, and called
out the password. He motioned to Erik, and the Sergeant Major and his
Captain walked away from the men. Calis said, "Corporal, start them
back to camp." Alfred shouted, "You heard the Captain! Back to camp.

Quick march!" The soldiers set out at a ragged run, and the Corporal
harried them every step of the way. Calis watched in silence until the
men were out of sight; then he said, "We have a problem." Erik nodded.

The sun was setting in the west and he said, "Each day about this time,
I feel as if we've lost another step. We're never going to get six
thousand men trained in time."

"I know," said Calis. Erik looked at his
Captain and sought any hint of his mood. In the years he had spent
with Calis he had come no closer to being able to read him than he had
the first day they had met. He was an enigma to Erik, as unreadable as
one of those foreign texts William kept in his library. Calis smiled.

"That's not the problem. Don't worry. We'll have our six thousand men
in the field when the time comes. They won't be as well trained as
either of us would like, but the core will be solid, and that backbone
of really fine soldiers will help keep the others alive." He studied
his young Sergeant Major's face for a while, then said, "You forget
that the one thing you can't teach is the seasoning you get in combat.

Some of the men you judge fit will
get themselves killed in the first few minutes, while some YOU would
wager everything you have will perish will survive, even flourish in
the midst of the carnage." His smile vanished.

"No, the problem I
speak of is we've been infiltrated." Erik said, "Infiltrated? A
spy?"

several, I suspect. It's a hunch, nothing more. Those we face are
occasionally heavy-handed, but they're never stupid." Erik thought it
time to broach his own unease.

"Is that why the Prince's guards are
ensuring no one sees the Royal Engineers building supply roads along
the rear of Nightmare Ridge?"

"Nightmare Ridge?" asked Calis. His
expression was clear to Erik. He wasn't being disingenuous, he didn't
recognize the name.

"That's what we call it in Ravensburg," answered
Erik.

"It's probably called something else up north." He glanced
around.

"I ran a company up into the north and took them farther than
usual. We ran into a company of Pathfinders and a bunch of Prince
Patrick's Household Guards. I could hear the sound of tools coming
from the other side of the valley we entered, echoing from behind the
ridge: trees being felled, anvils striking steel, and spikes being
driven into rock. The Prince's corps of engineers is building a road.

That ridge runs all the way from the Teeth of the World down through
Darkmoor, and halfway to Kesh. It's almost impossible to cross
anywhere there isn't a road, and more than one traveler's been found
dead up there. That's why we call it Nightmare Ridge. You get lost
anywhere up there in cold weather, you're a dead man." Calis nodded.

"That's the place. You weren't supposed to be there, Erik. Captain
Subai was not pleased, nor was Prince Patrick. But yes, that's why no
one is permitted to go there, in case the enemy does have agents
snooping around outside Krondor."

a I20

Erik blurted "You're going to abandon the city." Calis sighed.

"I wish
it were that simple." He was silent as he watched the sunset.

Brilliant orange and pink faced by black clouds far away, over the sea,
gave an unreal quality to the approaching evening, as if nothing that
beautiful should et in the same world as the conning evil. Calis looked
at Erik.

"We have several plans in place. You need worry only about
the disposition of soldiers under your command. You'll be told where
to take them and what your options are. Once you are in the mountains
with your soldiers, you'll have to make the decisions, Erik. You'll
have to judge what is best for both your men and the overall campaign.

A great deal will ride on your judgment.

"But until the Prince and
Knight-Marshal are ready to brief you on the overall operation, I will
not give you details you might blurt out to the wrong person."

"The
infiltrators?"

"That, or if you're abducted and some agent of the
Pantathians closes you with some potion to make you speak, or if they
have mind readers like the Lady Gamina in their employ. We have no
idea what might happen. That's why whatever you hear you share with no
man, and you're only to be told what you need to know." Erik nodded.

"I'm worried..."

"About the girl?" Erik was surprised.

"You know about
that?" Calis motioned they should start walking after the departing
soldiers, and said, "What sort of Captain would I be if I didn't know
about my Sergeant Major's life outside the barracks?" Erik had no
answer for that. He said, "Of course I'm worried about Kitty. I'm
worried about Roo and his family, too. I'm worried about everybody."

"Now you're starting to sound like Bobby, though he would never have
voiced it that way." Calis smiled.

"He'd
have said, "We've got too damn much work to do and half the time
needed, and a bunch of incompetent fools doing it." Erik laughed.

"That sounds like him."

"I miss him, Erik. I know you do, as well, but
Bobby was one of the first I picked. The first of my "desperate men."

Erik said, "I thought you fetched him from the Border Barons to work
for you."

Calis laughed.

"Bobby would have put it that way. He failed to
mention he was going to be hanged for having killed another soldier in
a brawl. I had to beat him a half-dozen times to get him to control
his temper."

"Beat him?" asked Erik, negotiating his way over a large
rock, as they followed the gully downward.

"I told him each time he
lost his temper I'd strip to the waist and we'd have at it. If he was
standing and I was not, he was a free man. It took that fool six
beatings before he finally realized I was a great deal stronger than I
look." Erik knew that was the truth. The Captain's father was a man
called Tomas, some sort of lord or another up in the north. By all
rumors, his mother was the Elf Queen. But whatever the truth of his
parentage, Calis's strength was unmatched by that of any man Erik had
run across. The former smith from Ravensburg had been the strongest man
in his village, and of all those soldiers who had served with him on
his first voyage to Novindus, only the huge man named Biggo was his
equal. But Calis had done things that Erik could only judge
impossible. He had once seen the Captain easily pick up a wagon so
Erik could replace the wheel, when Erik knew from experience he would
have needed the help of at least two other men to duplicate the feat.

Considering Bobby de Loungvillle's nature, Erik said, "I'm surprised
you didn't have to kill him." Calis laughed.

"I came close, twice.

Bobby wasn't a man

I22

to take defeat easily. When I came back from that first trip to
Novindus, and we came limping into Krondor harbor like whipped hounds,
Prince Arutha called me the "Eagle" because of the banner on our ship."

Erik nodded. He knew as well as any man that in that distant land
Calis played the part of a mercenary captain, and his company was
called the Crimson Eagles.

"Bobby elected to call himself the Dog of
Krondor. Prince Arutha seemed less than pleased, but said nothing."

Calis stopped and restrained Erik.

"Don't say anything to anyone about
what you suspect, Erik. I don't want to lose another Sergeant Major.

Bobby may have fancied himself a dog, but he was a loyal and tough one.

You're just as loyal and just as tough, though you don't know it yet."

Erik nodded at the compliment.

"Thank you, sir."

"I'm not through. I
don't want to lose another Sergeant Major because Duke James hanged him
to keep him silent." He looked Erik in the eyes.

"Do I make myself
clear?o "Very."

"Come along, then, we've got to march this lot back to
Krondor and hand them over to William to turn into garrison rats. If
they somehow find themselves in the mountains, they may survive a
little longer than the average soldier, so we've done them a favor, but
none of these men will be of service to us." Erik said, "That's the
truth."

"Go find me some more men, Erik. Desperate men if you must,
but get me some men we can train."

"Where should I seek them?" asked
Erik. Calis said, "Go see the King before he leaves Krondor. If you
ask him nicely, he may give you a warrant so you can steal the Border
Barons' best men from them. The Barons will not be happy when you do
this, but if we lose this war, invasion from the Northlands is the last
thing we'll need worry about."

I23

Erik, remembering the map of the Kingdom in Williams office, said,
"That means a journey to Northwarden, Ironpass, and Highcastle." start
with Ironpass," instructed Calis.

"You'll have to move fast, and while
you're bringing the men south, march them through the Dimwood and avoid
Sethanon. Get them
here as soon as you can." Then with what Erik had come to think of as
Calis's evil grin, he said, "You have two months." Erik suppressed a
groan.

"I need three,"

"Kill some mounts getting there if you must,
but you have two. I need another six hundred good men, two hundred
from each of those garrisons here in Krondor in two months."

"That will
leave them with less than half their standard garrison. All of the
Barons will object."

"Of course they'll object." said Calis with a
laugh.

"That's why you need the King's Warrant." Erik hesitated, then
set off in a jog, leaving a startled Calis behind.

"Where are you
running to?"

"Krondor," said Erik.

"I need all the time I can squeeze,
and there's someone I must say good-bye to." Calis's laughter faded
into the background as Erik continued to run. He was still running
when he passed a startled Alfred and the men marching back to camp.

Erik had spent a difficult day with the King and then with Kitty.

While the King wasn't too adverse to stripping his northern garrisons
of soldiers needed there to defend his realm from the marauding goblins
and dark elves, he was less than enthused with Calis entrusting the
task of selecting those men to a sergeant. He reminded Erik that he
carried court rank now, and he shouldn't let any of the Barons question
his right to carry out those orders, but silently Erik wondered how he
would force a nobleman with nearly four hundred armed men trained to
obey to

do what M wanted should the King's Warrant prove insufficient. He told
Jadow that Calis would be returning later with the men who were to be
reassigned to the Prince's garrison, and then left to find Kitty. She
took the news of his two-month absence with a calm exterior, but Erik
had come to know her well enough to see she was upset. He wished he
could spend one more day with her, but knew that Calis's time limit was
nearly impossible.

They slipped out of the inn and spent an emotional hour together, and
at the end Erik had come as close as he dared to breaking his word to
Calis about not repeating what he suspected. He just warned Kitty that
should he not be around when that 'something big' she suspected finally
happened, she should slip out of Krondor and head to Ravensburg. He
knew that when word of the invaders finally reached the city, there
would be a little time to flee before the Prince ordered the city
sealed. Kitty was smart enough to know what he meant and she would
head to the Inn of the Pintail in Ravensburg to be with Freida, his
mother, and Nathan, his stepfather. He promised he would find her
there. Erik left two hours before sundown. He knew he would have to
put up at an inn along the way, but every hour he could steal would be
worth the extra expense. Besides, he was spending the King's gold, not
his own. Sundown found him still an hour from the nearest mn inn The
little moon was up, so it wasn't completely dark, and the King's
Highway was a clearly marked way, but Erik walked his horse rather than
risk an injury by having the animal stumble. His horse was a tough
little roan gelding he had selected himself. It wasn't as strong or as
large as most of the horses in the Prince's stable, but it was likely
to possess more endurance than most of the animals Erik might choose.

He would switch mounts often on this journey, and he would be in the
saddle from before dawn to after dusk for nearly two weeks to reach
Ironpass, and even then he would have to push the horses to the end of
their endurance, but it could be done. Silently Erik cursed his Captain
and rode into the night.

Nakor pointed.

"There, againl' Sho Pi nodded.

"As it was last time,
Master."

Nakor resisted the impulse to tell the young man to cease calling him
master. It was as pointless as telling a dog not to scratch fleas.

"Keshian patrols along the south coast of the Sea of Dreams," observed
Nakor.

"Last time Calis informed the garrison commander, yet here
again we see Keshian lancers riding with their colors unfurled." After
a moment, he laughed.

"What is funny, Master?" Nakor struck the young
man lightly with the back of his hand on Sho Pi's shoulder.

"It's
obvious, boy. Lord Arutha has made a deal."

"A deal?" asked Sho Pi as
the boat's Captain turned his craft toward the shore.

"You'll see,"
said the little man. He and his disciple had taken ship from Krondor
and sailed through the inlet into the waterway between the Bitter Sea
and the Sea of Dreams. They were now on a river boat heading to Port
Shamata, where they would buy horses and ride to Stardock. Nakor
carried documents for Lord Arutha and orders from Prince Patrick and
Duke James. Nakor had a nagging suspicion he knew what was in those
documents, for several of them bore the King's own crest, not that of
the Prince. The balance of the journey passed uneventfully, and
eventually, Nakor and Sho Pi found themselves on the raft that served
to carry passengers and goods across the Great

I27

Star Lake to the island of Stardock and the community of magicians that
resided there. Arutha, Lord Vencar, Earl of the King's Court and son of
Duke James, met them at the landing.

"Nakor, Sho Pi, it's good to see
you two again." He laughed.

"Our last meeting was far too brief."

Nakor also laughed. He had spent less than two minutes in the newly
arrived Earl's company before departing with Sho Pi and Pug to travel
to Elvandar. As they jumped the narrowing gap between barge and dock,
Nakor said, "I have messages from your father." Arutha said, "Come with
me, then."

"How did you know we were on the bargeasked Nakor. As they
walked to the huge building that was Stardock, the man the King had
sent to administer the island of magicians said, "Something mundane.

our lookout saw you from up there." He pointed to one of the windows in
a high tower.

"He sent word to me."

"Must be one of my students," said
Nakor. nodding. Inside the building, they traversed a long hall and
moved toward what Nakor knew would be Arutha's office. It was the same
one he had taken when he had been placed in charge of the island by
Calis.

"Are Chalmes, Kalied, and the others giving you any trouble?"

asked Nakor. At mention of the Keshian-born traditionalist who resisted
the idea of this island's being subject to the King's law, Arutha shook
his head and said, "None worth mentioning. They grouse a bit now and
again, but as long as they're free to teach and do their research.

they don't complain too much about my administration." Nakor said, "I
suspect they're plotting."

"No doubt," agreed Arutha as they reached
his office, 'but I think it won't amount to much without outside help.

They're too spineless to attempt to secede from the Kingdom without a
strong ally." Once inside the office, Arutha closed the door.

"And

we're prepared for that," said the Earl as he took the packet of
documents his father had sent.

"Excuse me a moment," he said, and
broke the seal on the first of those, a personal message from the Duke.

As he read, Nakor studied the Earl. He was as tall as his father, but
looked-more like his mother, with fine features and an almost delicate
mouth. His eyes, though, thought Nakor, were his father's; they were
dangerous. His hair was like his father's, too, as it had been when
James was a young man: tight dark brown curls.

After a moment, Arutha said, "Do you know what's in here?"

"No," said
Nakor, 'but I can guess. Erland has just returned from Kesh. Did he
pass this way?" Arutha laughed.

"Not much gets by you, does it?"

"When
you've lived by your wits as long as I have," said Nakor, 'you learn to
pay attention to everything."

"Yes, Erland stopped for one night on his
way home."

"Then you've made a deal with Kesh." Arutha said, "Let's say
we've come to an understanding." If Sho Pi was lost in the
conversation, he gave no sign, seemingly content to let his master and
the Earl speak uninterrupted. Nakor laughed.

"Your father is the most
evil, dangerous man I've ever met. It's a good thing he's on our
side." Arutha looked rueful.

"You'll get no argument from me in that
regard. My life has never been my own." Nakor took the message as
Arutha handed it across the desk.

"You don't seem particularly
bothered by this," observed the gambler. Arutha shrugged.

"I had the
usual rebellious nature most young men possess, but truth to tell, most
of what my father had me do was interesting; challenging even. My
sons, as you may have gathered. were a completely different case. My
wife is quite a bit more forgiving of "adventuresome" natures than my
mother was." He stood up as

Nakor read the Duke's message.

"I have often thought what Father's
life must have been like, to be literally raised a thief in the sewers
of Krondor." He glanced out a small window that overlooked the
shoreline.

"I've heard enough "Jimmy the Hand" stories to last a
lifetime."

"I didn't think your father was much on bragging," observed
Sho Pi as Nakor continued to read.

"Not from Father, but from others,"
said Arutha.

"Father has changed the history of the Kingdom." He fell
into a thoughtful silence.

"It can be a difficult thing to be the son
of a great man." Nakor said, "People expect much of a great man's son."

He put the document on the desk.

"You want me to stay?"

"For a while,"
said Arutha.

"I need someone trustworthy here when this all breaks
out. I need some reassurance that Chalmes and the others don't react
badly."

"Oh, they']] react badly enough when they see what your father
and Prince Erland have cooked up," said Nakor with a small laugh, 'but
I'll make sure no one gets hurt."

"Good. I'll leave next week, after
I've seen to a few more necessary details."

"You need to return to
Krondor?" asked Nakor. Arutha nodded.

"I know my father." Nakor
sighed.

"I understand." Arutha said, "You have the same rooms as
before, so rest and I'll see you at dinner." Sensing they were being
dismissed, Sho Pi rose and opened the door for Nakor. After they had
left the Earl's office, Sho Pi said, "Master, what did you mean by
asking Lord Arutha if he needed to return?"

"His father ordered him to
Rillanon, on a thin pretext of carrying messages to the King," said
Nakor as they turned a corner leading to the suite of rooms set aside
for them. Climbing a flight of stairs, Nakor continued, "Arutha knows
his father is unlikely to leave Krondor when the fighting

I29

starts. He wants to see that his sons don't stay with their
grandfather."

"I know war is risky," said the former soldier, 'but why
should the Duke's grandsons be at any greater risk than anyone else?"

"Because it is unlikely that anyone who is in Krondor when the Queen's
fleet arrives will survive," Nakor answered flatly.

Sho Pi remained silent as they reached their quarters.

Erik signaled and the riders stopped. One of his scouts was riding
back toward him. He had spent the better part of two months raiding
the Border Barons for their best men, and now almost six hundred men
rode in three columns spread out over twenty miles and a half behind
him. It had been an exhausting ride, and Erik was cursing Calis with
almost every mile of it, but he had his men. Each Border Baron he had
visited had read the King's Warrant with a mix of disbelief and
outrage. Each Baron was unique in that he was a vassal of the Crown,
answerable to no Earl or Duke. To have a mere sergeant major of the
Prince's garrison walk in with orders to let him handpick men to be
taken away, while promises of replacements were vague at best, was more
than they could withstand. Baron Northwarden had even considered
attempting to hold Erik for confirmation of the order, but by then Erik
had an armed company of nearly two hundred men with him and the Baron
thought better of it. At Highcastle, the Baron merely looked as if
another weight had been added to his already abundant burden, and
complied with a minimum of complaint. Erik suspected the company of
four hundred men wearing the livery of Northwarden and Ironpass also
convinced him. They had ridden through the vast grasslands of the High
Wold, home to nomadic tribesmen, herding their sheep

I '

and trading with the Barons and those small villages that survived this
close to the Northlands. Several times they had found camps recently
abandoned, as if the approach of so many armed men had caused bandits
to flee into the hills. After the third such camp had been encountered,
Erik had ordered two of the men from Ironpass to ride advance scout.

Erik found it slightly discomforting to think of any problems this far
within the border of the Kingdom, but of all the lands between the Far
Coast and the Kingdom Sea, those lands between the Teeth of the World the great northern mountain range and the boundary of the Dimwood
were among the most hostile. Raiding parties of goblins and dark elves
were known to have traveled as far south as Sethanon in the years
before the Riftwar, and no matter the frequency of Kingdom patrols
through these areas, they still remained wild and inhospitable. They
were presently riding through light woodlands, leading toward the far
denser Dimwood, and now Erik had lost count of the ideal places for
ambush he had ridden past. The first scout reined in and said, "An
armed camp, Sergeant Major. At least a hundred men."

"What?" said
Erik.

"Did anyone see you?"

"No, they post no scouts and seemed
unconcerned about it; I believe they think themselves alone here."

"Could you mark them?"

"No banner flew and they wore neither uniform
nor tabard. They look like brigands." Erik dismissed the scout and
turned to the man he had named acting Corporal, a sergeant from
Ironpass named Garret.

"I want a skirmish line behind us by fifty
yards half the men. At the first sound of trouble, I want them to
sweep in from either side. The rest should ready themselves to hit
hard up the middle if needed, by column of two. Get four of your best
and ride with me."

I3I

At least a decade Erik's senior, the man showed no hesitation in taking
orders from the younger man. Erik liked his attitude and his
discipline and planned on making him a sergeant as soon as possible,
because in Garret he sensed someone who'd keep his men alive. That was
the one thing about Calis's plan Erik grudgingly
approved of: the men he had been sent to fetch had been hardened by
years of fighting goblins,. dark elves, and bandits. Most of them
were mountain fighters by experience, and it would take little to meld
them into the force Erik already had under his command. Like the
trained soldiers they were, the first twenty men spread out behind
Erik. He told Garret, "Get ready for trouble." orders were passed, and
Erik, Garret, and the four men he had chosen rode forward. They slowly
picked their way through the trees and came within sight of campfires.

Close to eighty men lay about or stood talking in a clearing in the
woods. A few dozen tents of various size were erected in haphazard
fashion, and some men tended cooking fires and saw to provisions near
the middle of the clearing. Erik saw baggage wagons and horses staked
out near the far edge. To Garret he said, "This is no band of
outlaws." The older soldier nodded silent agreement.

"We better hit
them hard." There was no question in his mind; they were heading for a
fight. Erik wondered. While it was not quite midday, many of the men
were sleeping. Erik held up his hand and spoke softly.

"They're
waiting for someone."

"How do you know, Sergeant Major?" asked Garret.

"They're bored and they've been here for at least a week." He pointed
to a slit trench over to their right. Garret said, "I can smell it.

You're right. They've been here for a while."

"And unless I'm
mistaken, there's nothing here worth
waiting for, so they're waiting for someone else to show

UP.

who?" That's what I intend to find out." He motioned the men forward
and they walked their horses to within sight of the camp. A bored
soldier sat polishing his sword and he glanced up as Erik and the
others hove into view. His eyes widened and he shouted. As soon as
Erik heard the man's voice. the hair on the back of his neck stood up
and he shouted to the rear, "Attack," Swords were in hands without
thought and the sound of the riders coming hard filled the afternoon
air. In the camp, men ran to bedrolls and pulled on armor as they
could, or grabbed shields and swords, bows and arrows, and the fight
began. As Erik had planned, the column of twos rode into the center of
the camp behind him just as the sweeping skirmish line encircled the
camp. Men screamed as arrows filled the air and steel rang upon steel
as the riders swept into the clearing. Many of the men who rode with
Erik were mounted bowmen and quickly picked off targets as men
struggled to don armor. Erik rode down two men as he headed for the
center of the camp. Whoever led these men was certain to be there, and
he intended to find the leader before some overly eager Kingdom archer
skewered him with a bow shaft Erik saw the leader. The man was an oasis
of calm as those around him ran in every direction. He shouted orders
and attempted to bend his men by force of will into an effective
fighting force. Erik put heels to his horse and charged him. The
leader sensed more than saw Erik approach, so intent was he on
directing his men. He turned to see the

I33

horse and rider almost on top of him and dove to one avoiding Erik's
charge. Erik turned his mount and found the man now armed with sword
and shield, quickly retrieved from thgrotot Erik knew he faced a tough
opponent, for the man dived in the direction of his weapons. He would
not run. Erik knew better than to charge him again, for to do so was to
risk having the man duck under his attack
hamstring his horse. He was probably calm and confident enough to
attempt that dangerous move. His men were taking a terrible toll on
those in c and Erik circled his opposite number, waiting. The eyed him
warily, ready for the charge that didn't co and Erik shouted, "Keep as
many of them alive possible." When it became clear that the men in the
camp v hopelessly outclassed by those on horseback, sol began throwing
down their weapons and crying quarter. Quickly the matter resolved
itself in Erik's favor, when at last there was no doubt, the leader
threw d his weapon. Erik knew that in Novindus, it was accepted sign
of surrender by mercenaries. Erik glanced around and saw a banner lying
on ground. The emblem was familiar to him. Erik rode horse toward the
man. Garret and the other soldiers lo perplexed as the Prince's
Sergeant Major spoke in a st tongue. To the man, Erik said, "Duga and
his War Dogs, if not mistaken." The man nodded.

"Who are you?"

"I rode
with Calis's Crimson Eagles." Captain Duga, mercenary leader of one
hundred swc sighed.You were to be killed on sight, and that was the
other side of the world."

"You've come a long way," observed Erik.

"That's the truth." He glanced around and saw his men being disarmed by
Erik's.

"What now?"

"That depends. If you cooperate, you'll get a
chance to stay alive. If you don't.. ."

"I won't break oath," Duga
said. Erik studied the man. He had been almost a classic mercenary
captain in Novindus. Clever, if not intelligent, but smart enough to
keep his men alive, a requirement of any captain. He'd be tough enough
to keep a surly band of cutthroats in line, and he'd be honest enough
to keep contracts, else no one would hire him.

"No oath need be broken.

You're our prisoner, but we can hardly give you parole to return
home." Bitterly the man said, "I don't even know where home is." Erik
pointed to the southwest.

"That way on the other side of the world,
as you said."

"Care to loan us a boat?" Duga asked with bitter irony.

"Perhaps. If you share some information with us, you might find
yourselves with some opportunity to return home." Erik didn't comment
on how slim the chance of that occurring might be.

"Talk," said Duga.

"Start with, how did you get here?"

"Through one of those magic gates
the snake men make." He shrugged.

"They offered a bonus for any
captain who led his men through." He glanced around.

"Though where
I'll spend it, the gods only know." Erik said, "How long have you been
here?"

"Three weeks."

"Who are you waiting for?"

"I don't know," said
the Captain of mercenaries from Novindus.

"All I know is the orders
from General Fadawah were simple. Go through this rift thing and find
a place to camp nearby. Then wait."

"For what?"

I35I

,i don't know. I just know we were told to wait." Erik felt a stab of
uncertainty. Until the next element of his column arrived, he had
almost as many prisoners as he had men to guard them, and at any moment
new enemies might appear. Thinking quickly, he said, "Limited parole.

You'll not be harmed, but we won't let you ride
away. We'll negotiate better term when we get to our camp." The
mercenary considered it for a moment, then said, "Done." With obvious
relief, he shouted to his men, "No more fighting. Now, let'seat."

]Erik once more was amazed at the attitude of mercenaries from
Novindus, who treated conflict and fighting as jobs, who faced men
across the line one day who might have been allies the year before, and
might be again someday, and who carried little or no ill will as a
result. Erik motioned to Garret and said, "After things settle down,
make camp and let the men eat." The Sergeant from Ironpass saluted, and
started giving orders. Erik stretched in the saddle and felt as if
every bone were jangled out of its joint. His backside was sore and he
couldn't remember ever having been this tired. With a silent groan he
dismounted and, smelling the food on the fires, realized he was hungry.

Before beginning the questioning of the prisoners, he paused once more
to curse his Captain. He started to tend his horse and again paused a
moment to curse Calis.

SEVEN

Schemes

Roo nodded. The trade delegate had been speaking for nearly an hour,
and Roo had sensed the entire course of negotiations within the first
five minutes, but protocol dictated he endure the entire presentation
before declining the opportunity. Roo wished the man would come to the
end, as he knew this meeting was entirely pointless. Since seizing
control of the grain market in the Western Realm of the Kingdom, Roo
had seen the control of his various companies, especially the Bitter
Sea Company, grow by the month, until he had only one rival in the
Western Realm in commerce: Jacob Esterbrook. The one area where Jacob
completely dominated was in trade with Kesh. The profitable luxury
trade with the Empire was like a locked room to Roo, and no attempt of
his to gain a foothold in that lucrative market had resulted in
anything more than a minor contract or a marginally profitable trade.

He had again sought to gain a concession into Kesh, but now he was
being told at great length by this minor Keshian functionary that his
latest attempt would come to naught. At long last the man finished, and
Roo smiled at him.

"So, to put it another way, the answer is no." The
trade delegate blinked as if seeing something for the first time and
said, "Oh, I think it too harsh to simply say "no," Mr. Avery." He put
the tips of his fingers together.

It is far closer to the truth to say that such an arrangement is not
feasible at this time. However, that is not to say that at some future
date such an accommodation might not be possible." Roo glanced out the
window of the upper floor of Barret' sCoffee House. Night was
approaching.

"The afternoon is late, sir, and I still have much to do
before enjoying my evening meal. May I say that when next we speak, I
plan on starting a great deal earlier in the day." The Keshian rose,
his expression showing Roo's humor was completely lost on him, and
bowed slightly, then departed. Duncan Avery, Roo's cousin, sat almost
asleep in the
corner, and stretched as he rose.

"Finally," he said. Luis de Savona,
Roo's general manager, said, "I agree. Finally." Roo said, "Well, we
had to try." He sat back in his chair, glanced at the coffee and rolls
that had sat upon the table for hours and were now cold and stale, and
said, "Someday I'm going to figure out how Jacob has such a
stranglehold on Keshian trade. it's almost as if .. ." He left the
thought unfinished.

"As if what?" asked Duncan. Luis glanced at Roo's
cousin. The two men barely got along, though they remained civil with
one another. Luis, a former comrade-in-arms with Roo, was hardworking,
conscientious, and meticulous in every detail of whatever task lay
before him. Duncan was lazy, paid no attention to detail, and was in
Roo's employ only because he was his cousin. He was also charming,
funny, and an excellent swordsman, and Roo enjoyed his company. Luis
said, "When did you become interested in trade?" Duncan shrugged.

"Roo
started to say something. I just wondered what. That's all." Roo
said, "Never mind. I have some things I need to investigate."

I38

Duncan said, "Anything you want me to do?" Roo shook his head.

"No,
but I need to speak to Duke James." He stood, walked to the rail, and
shouted down, "Dash?"

"Yes, Mr. Avery," came the response from below.

Dash looked up from a Bitter Sea Company desk where he was going over
shipping invoices with two of Roo's scribes.

"What can I do for you,
sir?" While informal when alone with his employer, Dash always observed
the formalities at Barret's and other public places.

"I need to see
your grandfather at hisearliest convenience." Now?" said Dash, half
rising. Roo waved him back into his chair.. "Tomorrow is soon enough."

From the doorway a voice said, "Now would be better." Dash looked up as
Roo craned his neck to see who spoke, and Dash said, "Grandfather!" The
Duke of Krondor entered, flanked by two palace guardsmen. A general
stir sounded in the lower floor and several of the members rose and
bowed slightly as word of the visitor spread. James came to the
railing that prevented non-members from entering the trading floor, and
one of the guards opened the gate. James passed through and mounted
the stairs to the upper floor of Barret's. It was a tremendous breach
of protocol for a non-member to do so unless he was there on business,
but Roo decided it wasn't the time to inform the most powerful noble in
the Kingdom of that detail. James spoke to Luis and Duncan.

"Leave
us." He leaned over the railing and said, "Dash, ensure we're
undisturbed." Dash moved to the foot of the stairs and tried not to
grin as he saw his grandfather's guards also take up position at the
foot of the stairway. Keeping his voice low so as not to be overheard
below, James said, "It's time for us to do some business."

I39

Roo didn't like the sound of that, but he shrugged.

"Sooner or later."

"I need two million golden sovereigns." Roo blinked. His net worth was
several times that, but
he wasn't that liquid. To put his hands on that much gold would
require some restructuring of his business.

"How soon do you need it?"

"Yesterday, but tomorrow will suffice."

"And the interest?" James
smiled.

"Whatever you like, within reason. You understand that we may
not be in a position to repay this loan." Roo nodded.

"If you can't
repay this loan, I doubt I'll be in a position to complain." James
said, "How soon can I see the gold?"

"I can have a half-million golden
sovereigns at the palace by the end of business tomorrow. The other
million and a half will take a few days to arrange. I'm going to
overtax most of the moneylenders in the city. I'm going to have to do
some business in the East, as well." Leaning back, he said, "Would you
do me the courtesy of a bit more advance notice next time, Your Grace?"

"No," said James.

"Things come up."

"Speaking of which," said Roo, "I
just got another trade concession rejected by the Keshian trade legate.

is there anything you can do to help me overcome this problem?"

"Possibly," said James.

"Right now we're doing a lot of business with
Kesh." The gold?" asked Roo, raising an eyebrow in question.

"A very
fat bribe for several well-placed Keshian nobles." Very fat," agreed
Roo.

"Are you attempting to overthrow the Emperor?" James stood.

"It
would take a great deal more gold than that to even dream of such a
move. There may not be enough gold in existence to overthrow Great
Kesh." James

I40

hesitated, then said, "So you know. We have a southern border to worry
about." Roo nodded.

"I figured out that much by myself." He stretched
and stood up.

"I am interested in how you propose to deal with Kesh
during the coming invasion."

"I'm working on several different
contingencies," said James.

"But one of them is to ensure that enough
Keshian soldiers are in the right place to encourage the Emerald
Queen's army to stay where we want them." Roo nodded.

"No sweeps south
of Krondor, up into the mountains from the Vale of Dreams."

"Something
like that. That sort of move would require that the Emerald Queen
overrun the dwarves at Dorgin, which has never been done." James smiled
ruefully.

"But even old King Halldan's army would be put to rout by
this host, I'm afraid." Roo shrugged. He had heard stories of the
dwarves' fierceness in warfare, but had never met one of them. As James
turned to leave, Roo came around the desk.

"No need to see me to the
door," said the Duke.

"I can find my own way." As he reached the top
of the stairs, he said, "Oh, by the way, stop trying to squirrel away
your wealth in the East and the Free Cities. I'm going to need most of
it for the war." Roo didn't even attempt to look shocked or deny the
truth; he had been taking small amounts of capital and moving it
quietly out of Krondor.

"Very well," he said with honest resignation
in his voice.

"Trying to outfox you is a waste of energy." James
nodded.

"Don't forget it." He left and Roo stood alone, wondering
again at his failed attempt to get a trade concession into Kesh. He
had a theory, and he needed to put it to the test, but right now he had
a more immediate concern: how to raise a huge amount of gold quickly
without causing every
moneylender in the city to double his interest rates. He sighed as he
thought about his planned visit to Sylvia. He would have to give Duncan
a note to take to her, since he would be here until well past midnight.

He sat down and started to write. Once done, he called down to Dash.

When Dashel was
standing before him, Roo said, "Give this to I)Duncan to take to the
Esterbrook house. He'll know what to do." Roo stretched again.

"Then
please send word to my wife that your grandfather is keeping me too
busy to come home for the next few days." Actually, Roo had already
told his wife he was staying in the city to work, but had planned on
seeing Sylvia that night. Now he felt obliged to see Sylvia the next
night, or the one after that, before returning home. Roo glanced out
the window at the sunset, and he heard the city noises outside as the
day wound down and shops began to close.

"I need to take a break
before I start doing your grandfather's bidding," said Roo, standing
up.

"I think I'll pay a visit to Helen Jacoby and her children." Dash
nodded.

"After that?"

"I'm going to Avery and Son's for an hour or so
this evening," and with a sour face he added, "Then it's back here.

I'll most likely be here all night." Dash nodded.

"Anything else?"

"No, that's all. Come back here first thing in the mon-iing. I expect
I'll have a great deal for you to do. Have Jason come along, as well."

As Dash hurried toward the door, Roo walked down the stairway. He
reached the entrance to Barret's and considered crossing the street to
his town house, to saddle up a horse and ride over to Helen's. Then he
decided he'd rather walk. He wended his way through the busy streets.

Roo never tired of the crowds and clamor of the city. A small town
boy, he saw Krondor as a never-ending source of

I42

and stimulation. Just by walking he could refresh himself conceive of
anything being possible. But today as he walked, the distant specter
of the Emerald Queen and her approaching host intruded on his
appreciation of the robust city. on one level, he knew that eventually
Krondor would be attacked, probably overrun. He had seen what happened
when her conquering General Fadawah crushed a city: he had barely
escaped the destruction of distant Maharta. He knew it was coming. He
had a faint hope the Kingdom army, far better trained and more
dedicated than anything encountered by the invaders, might keep them
out of Krondor, but he recognized it was probably a vain hope. on
another level, the coming seemed an impossibility. He was rich beyond
even his boyish dreams of avarice; he possessed the most beautiful
woman in the world; and he had a son. Nothing remotely evil could be
allowed to touch that perfection. Roo stopped. He had been so intent
on his imagining, he had neglected to turn on the street that led to
Helen Jacoby's home. He turned and thought he saw a figure duck out of
sight. He quickened his steps and turned the corner, and glanced both
ways. Shopkeepers were closing for the day, and workers were hurrying
along, either on their final errands for their masters, or to home or a
friendly inn. But the figure he had glimpsed was nowhere to be seen.

Roo shook his head. It must be fatigue, he thought. But he couldn't
shake off the feeling he had been followed. He glanced around, then
set off toward the Jacoby house. He thought it had to be the
realization that the Emerald Queen's fleet was getting ready to sail.

He didn't have any direct intelligence, but he knew enough to
understand it was a certainty. He'd watched as her army had swept over
the continent
of Novindus, and had sat in council while plans were made to defend the
Kingdom against her attack. He could read the signs. He provided as
much transport as any firm in the Kingdom; he knew where the supplies
were being stored; he knew where the shipments of arms and reserve
horses were being readied. He knew the attack was coming soon.

It wasearly fall in Krondor, which meant it was spring on the other
side of the world; soon the massive fleet would be loading, and would
start its months-long voyage. Time and again Roo had heard Admiral
Nicholas talk about the dangers of sailing through the Straits of
Darkness. Difficult in the mildest of weather, it was nearly
impossible in the winter. To bring so large a fleet through safely,
the ideal time would be almost exactly upon Banapis, Midsun- imer's
Day. Tides and winds would make the narrow passage between the Endless
Sea and the Bitter Sea dement enough for those inexperienced ship
masters who must be in command of the bulk of the fleet. Given the
wholesale carnage visited on Novindus by the Queen that Roo loked-ew
about, he couldn't imagine there were six hundred competent captains
left alive down there. Besides the wholesale devastation her conquest
had visited upon the populace, Novindus boasted no deep-water sailors;

they were all coast huggers, captains who didn't suspect there was a
land across the sea until Nicholas and his crew had visited there
twenty years before. Roo also suspected Nicholas had a surprise or two
in store for the visitors when they attempted to clear the Straits,
which was why Roo had made the journey to Queg. The only reason Duke
James might require Quegan ships to act as escort for Kingdom merchants
would be if the entire Royal Navy was busy elsewhere. No, Nicholas
would have something waiting for the invaders as they pushed through
the Straits. He reached the Jacoby house and put the troubling

thoughts of invaders behind him for a while. He knocked. Helen Jacoby
answered his knock, and Roo said, "I hope you don't mind an unannounced
visit?" She laughed and Roo was struck by how nice that sounded.

"Rupert, of course not. You are always welcome
here."

From behind came the sound of her children calling his name, and Roo
found himself struck by a refreshed feeling he seldom experienced
elsewhere.

"Uncle Rupert!" said Wffiem, the five-year-old.

"Did you
bring me something?"

"Willem!" said his mother.

"That's no way to
treat a guest."

"He's no guest," said Willem indignantly.

"He's Uncle
Rupert." Seven-year-old Nataly rushed forward and threw her arms around
his waist in a welcoming hug. Rupert smiled at the boy's brashness and
the girl's affection as Helen moved to close the door behind him. As
it latched, he realized something: if his calculations were accurate,
the invaders would be in sight of Kingdom soil in seven months.

Acting Corporal Garret had looked dubious, but he accepted Erik's
orders without comment. After questioning Duga and his men all the
previous day, Erik had decided on a course of action. He ordered
Garret to lead half the men requisitioned from the Border Barons on a
slow march to Krondor, while Erik kept the remaining half with himself.

They had turned in their tabards when they left their previous
commands, but they still looked like soldiers. Erik then had them
swapping clothing with the captured mercenaries, and after a while
judged the results sufficiently chaotic to give the illusion of this
being a very large company of mercenaries. Duga gave his approval:

"They look like my boys." Erik had spent the previous evening talking
with Duga.

He had come to like the man, a simple no-nonsense captain with a
company of eighty men who had come to realize they were in over their
heads. It had taken all night, but Erik had at last convinced him that
it was in his own best interest to give more than his parole; rather,
he should switch sides. Several of his men seemed dubious, and Erik
had marked those and sent them off with Garret's squad, while the rest
stayed with Erik and Duga. Later that same day, the second contingent
of Kingdom soldiers had ridden past, and Erik instructed them to follow
Garret's company. When Duga saw the third company of two hundred come
past early the next morning, he commented that he and his men had been
led to believe they were invading a country of weak, W-prepared cities.

Erik had gone on at great length, patiently explaining how things were
different here in the Kingdom, and while he downplayed the relative
sizes of the two armies, he emphasized the training and equipment of
the Kingdom soldiers. Fortunately for his case, he had been aided by
the sight of six hundred of the toughest veterans in the King's Army
riding by. Duga gladly accepted the rations carried by Erik's men,
which they shared for breakfast.

"You know," he commented as he ate,
'there's not a lot keeping the Queen's army together but fear." Erik
nodded.

"I saw that at Maharta."

"It's gotten worse." He glanced
around.

"Some of the captains tried to desert after that, when we got
word we were turning east toward the City of the Serpent River."

"I
heard what happened," said Erik. Prince Patrick's spies had reported
about the captains being impaled along with some randomly selected
soldiers.

"It's as if we're all guarding each other. No one wants to
be there, but everyone's afraid to say anything." He shook his head.

"No, if you say the wrong thing to the

I47

wrong man, you've got a stake pounded up your arse." Erik considered
his next question.

"Has anyone asked why you're sent halfway around
the world?"

"There's nothing left at home," he said.

"Not much plunder
when a city's burned to the ground." He lowered his voice.

"I don't
believe ~this, but those snakes that stay close to the Queen have been
telling everyone who'd listen that this is the richest place in the
world, that there's this city called Sethanon' he pronounced it
"Seeth-e-non' where the streets are marble, the door handles and
latches are all gold, and they use silk for curtains." He sighed.

"After what I've seen for the last ten years, I can understand why men
want to believe, but you've got to elect to be stupid to believe that
nonsense." He lowered his voice even more.

"Some of the captains .. .

we've talked about trying to do something, but..."

"But what?"

"But
she's just got too much control."

"Tell me about this," urged Erik. He
motioned with his chin that they should take a walk. When they were out
of earshot of the men, Duga said, "I've probably got an agent or two of
hers in my company now. You never know. This General Fadawah, he's a
bloody genius with his tactics and knowing when to send the men and the
like, but he's also a murderous dog. You heard what happened to
General Gapi?" Erik nodded.

"Staked out naked over an anthill because
he failed."

"And most of the generals and captains had to watch." He
hit himself in the chest with his thumb.

"I was one of them. It
wasn't pretty, I can tell you that." Duga looked frustrated as he tried
to explain.

"It's the way they've got us all," he said, closing his
hand slowly to demonstrate.

"At first it was just another fight.

You'd sign up at the rendezvous and go fight, loot, then spend your
money. Then we started sacking cities. I remember Calis's

Crimson Eagles were on the other side at ... where was it?"

"Hamsa,"
supplied Erik.

"That was before I signed on, but I heard the story of
the siege."

"That's when it started to get ugly. For two hundred
sixty-odd days the Queen starved those pitiful bastards; then she
unleashed those Saaur raiders on those that fled." Erik had heard the
story of how the survivors of Calis's
company had made it to safe haven with the Jeshandi, the nomadic riders
of Novindus.

"When things started to look funny to us, we had a
captains' meeting, decided some of us had had enough, and went to see
General Gapi. He took three of our captains to meet with the Queen,
and they never came back.

"That's when we knew. We were in this war as
long as it was going to be fought, and any man tried to leave, he was
the enemy.

"For a while it wasn't too bad, though. There was plenty of
plunder. Women, too, both willing and unwilling. But after a while
you get tired, you know?" Erik nodded.

"I know."

"Some of my boys'
He stopped.

"None of us are boys any more. Not a man in my company
under thirty years of age, Erik." Erik said, "I don't know what I can
promise you. This is different than anything you've ever seen. This
is a nation at war, but I think if you'll either switch sides or stay
out of the way, if we get through this we'll find some way to get you
home."

"Home?" asked Duga, as if he didn't understand the word.

"You
have any idea what it's like back home?" Erik shook his head.

"Farms
burned, cattle slaughtered, fruit left to rot on the branches because
there's no one to work the orchards. Fields lying choked with weeds
because the farmers are either dead or in the army.

I49

"We ate everything." Erik said, "I don't understand."

"We fought this
war for over ten years, from the Westlands through the Riverlands into
the Eastlands, and we left nothing behind us.

"Whoever's living down
there now is scraping by. There may be some people still living in the
burned-out cities. I hear there's a city full of dwarves somewhere up
in the Ratn'gari Mountains the Queen was smart enough to leave alone,
but if it had humans in it, it was burned to the ground." Erik could
hardly credit what he heard.

"Nothing left?"

"Some people hid, and
others just lived too far away to bother with, so there's someone
living down there. But most of those we left behind were dead, ErikThere are no cities left, and only a few towns with a building
standing. If a farmer lived enough distance away, he might have a crop,
unless those fleeing the cities ate it. And the sickness..." He
sighed.

"With that many dead, it had to come. Some of our own men got
the runs so bad they died from them; couldn't even hold down a drink of
water in their stomachs. Others got the black pox. Or some got fevers
with no herbs or temple priests around to heal them. It's pure misery
back home, that's what it is." Erik studied the man's face and saw
something in his eyes he had never seen in a soldier before. There was
a deep horror that had been held in check so long it was not even being
acknowledged, and when it at last came to the surface, who knew what
might be the result. Erik put his hand on Duga's shoulder.

"There are
plenty of living people here." Raising his voice a little, he said,
"And I intend to see they stay that way." Smiling, he added, "Even if
they're a bunch of scruffy mercenaries too damn far from home for their
own good." Duga's eyes widened slightly as he searched Erik's face,
then he nodded once, and turned away quickly, to keep

Erik from seeing the moisture gathering in them. To his own men, he
shouted, "Look lively, then, we've got to show these Kingdom lads how
to be properly scruffy mercenaries."

That got a laugh from some of his men, though most of the Kingdom
soldiers didn't understand the dialect he
spoke. Now the camp looked much as it had when Erik had encountered it,
save that more than half the men were Kingdom soldiers, and a squad of
thirty bowmen was lurking in the trees just out of sight to lend
support. on the third day after the surrender, a sentry reported riders
approaching from the south.

"Get ready," Erik instructed his men.

Duga's mercenaries moved with the slow confidence of bored soldiers,
while Erik's men kept swords and shields very close to hand. In the
trees the archers made ready. A few minutes later three riders entered
the clearing, each dressed in a traveling robe. The leader threw back
his hood and revealed a man of middle years, with grey-shot black hair.

"Who leads?"

"I do," said Erik.

"What company?" asked a second man.

"Duga's Black Swords," answered Erik.

"You're not Duga!" said the first
man.

"No, Kimo, I am." Duga stepped forward. The man named Kimo said,
"He claims to lead." Duga shrugged.

"We got bored waiting for you. He
challenged me, and won." He made a show of rubbing his jaw.

"Look at
the size of him. Damn near broke my head. So, he's in charge."

"What's your name, "Captain"?" asked Kimo. Not knowing why, Erik
answered, "Bobby."

"Well, Bobby," said Kimo, 'your orders are to take
your men west from here. Three days' march, you'll come to a small
valley with a village in it. Leave that village alone.

I50

Don't let them even know you're here. Move past it at night, and head
up into the mountains. Find a river that feeds that village, then
follow it upward until you come to a branch. Follow the northern
branch. You'll find a nice little valley with game. We've also laid
in supplies there. Wait until someone comes for you. When that
happens, you must return down the river and take that village."

Attempting to look confused, Erik said, "Why wait? Why not just take
the village now?" The man who had been silent spoke, and the hair on
Erik's arms and neck stood up, for the voice wasn't human.

"You are not
paid to ask questions, boy." To Kimo the creature said, "Should we kill
this one and turn command back to that one?" He pointed at Duga, and
Erik saw a scaled hand, green, with black talons. He had seen
Pantathians before, even killed a few, but he felt relaxed only around
the dead ones.

"No, we have no time for this. There are other
companies to find." The second man took out a map and started to read
it. Erik didn't hesitate.

"Kill them!" The air filled with arrows, and
before Kimo and his companions could act, they were literally lifted
from their saddles as arrows struck them. Duga's eyes widened and he
said, "Why did you do that?" Erik crossed first to the Pantathian and
kicked it to make sure it was dead. Then he went to the second man,
and as he knelt next to him, he said, "Because I need this map." He
studied it a moment; then his eyes widened.

"Nelson!" he shouted, and
one of his men ran over.

"Yes, Sergeant Major!"

"Take two extra horses
and go find our men. I want them back as fast as you can bring them.

Meet us..." He studied the map a moment.

"Meet us at the northern bank
of the River Tamyth, where it falls. Three days to the east of the
road to Hawk's Hollow."

"Yes, Sergeant Major," Nelson said with a salute and turned.

"And,
Nelson," Erik said, halting the man.

"Yes, Sergeant Major?"

"Get your
uniform back on. Garret may shoot you down for a bandit before he
recognizes you." Nelson nodded and ran off.

"What's this all about,
then?" asked Duga.

Erik held up the map.

"There are twenty companies like yours scattered
through these hills. And if I read this right, they're all going to
seize key points in the hills, opening up the way for the Queen's army
to breach those mountains." Duga said, "I don't follow."

"No," said
Erik, 'but I do. Jack," Another soldier hurried over.

"I'm going to
draft a message for Knight-Marshal William. You take six men and ride
like hell for Krondor." The soldier hurried off to get ready. Duga
followed Erik as he moved toward his own horse. Erik pulled parchment,
pen, and ink from his saddle bag. Duga said, "What is this about key
points in the hills?" Erik turned and said, "If you'd moved about much
outside this clearing, you'd have seen a range of mountains west of
here." With his chin, he indicated a vaguely southeast direction.

"Sethanon, that city you spoke of, is down that way. There's nothing
of marble, gold, and silk about her, but she's important. I'm not
quite sure why, but I have it on good authority that if we let your
former comrades get there, we're all dead, even those in the Queen's
army."

"That doesn't surprise me," said Duga.

"She kills men every
night."

"Tell me about it later," said Erik. Duga fell silent as Erik
wrote. When he was finished, he handed the parchment to the soldier
named Jack and said, "With your life!" The soldier saluted.

"Understood, Sergeant Major." Then he ran to where the other six riders
waited.

I52

Erik turned to Duga.

"Looks like you're about to enlist in the King's
Army. You're going to fight for gold after all -just on the other
side." Duga shrugged.

"I've done it before."

"As I was saying,
Sethanon's down there, and the mountains are over there. and the
Queen's army is coming over those mountains to get there."

"Ah, said
Duga.

"Now I see why they went to the trouble of getting us here." He
shook his head.

"Some of those Pantathians collapsed when they sent
the lads in front of us. It took some powerful magic by the look of
things. Some of them died."

"That doesn't break my heart," said Erik as
he started shouting orders to strike camp.

"What I mean," said Duga,
'is they can't send any more soldiers with that magic. Because if they
could, they would, don't you see?" Erik stopped.

"You must be right.

Else why hide you all down here?" He scratched his beard.

"Some very
odd goings-on. if you ask me. Why didn't they just put us in this
city of Sethanon?"

"Because you'd all be dead before you got your
bearings," answered Erik. He thought it best not to elaborate. The
truth was, he didn't know why that was so, but all Duke James and
Knight-Marshal William would say is that it wouldn't be possible for
the Pantathians to send men directly into Sethanon. Erik suspected it
had to do with one or another of the magicians that James was talking
about, Pug or that woman Miranda. Erik didn't dwell further on the
question. He had too many things to do.

"Duga?"

"Yes?"

"These other
companies, do you know them?"

"A couple. Tafigar's Lions were the
first through. They'll not throw down swordseasily - Taligar's got a
bitch of a

I53

temper and he just doesn't like to lose. Nanfree's Brothers of iron
might listen to reason if I can talk to them before people start
bleeding." He grinned.

"Nanfree's a smart old fox who likes to work as
little for as much gold as he can." Erik said, "Good. We'll go in and
talk to them first, if we can, but if we need to fight, I expect you to
know which side you're on." Duga shrugged.

"I forgot which side I was
on years ago." He glanced around the woods.

"This seems like a nice
place. I've had my fill of killing and burning. Might as well pick
this land to call home and die for. Don't see much back where we
started worth that." Erik nodded.

"That's as good an answer as I could
expect." Duga turned and shouted to his men, "Up we go, lads. It's time
to earn some pay." He glanced at Erik, then with a grin he shouted,
"You're all soldiers of the King now, so behave yourselves!"

"Wait!" Erik instructed softly. The defenders had holed up behind some
rocks, and Erik had sent bowmen along a ridge above to provide cover
fire. For a month he had swept through the Dimwood, using the map to
locate and encircle the various companies of the Emerald Queen's who
were hidden there. Of the first dozen companies, Erik and his men had
routed, eight had surrendered and four had fought. Erik had been
forced to delegate some of his men to escort the captured soldiers who
refused to turn coat to a safe holding place. His company now numbered
eleven hundred men, spread out in five squads. Coordinating efforts
was difficult, and he regretted the many horses who were lamed as
messengers raced between squads, but all reports indicated the sweep of
the Dimwood was going well. More than once he had wondered how much of
this Calis had anticipated, for it seemed too providential that
he should just happen to be riding through here with six hundred crack
soldiers when the Emerald Queen's advance forces popped into view.

Sometime he'd have to remember to ask just where Calis got so much good
intelligence.

A scout came running toward Erik and one of the enemy soldiers behind a
rock loosed an arrow that barely missed the man. Erik grabbed him by
the tunic and demanded, "What's wrong?" The soldier was one of Duga's
mercenaries. Short of breath, he could blurt out only one word:

"Saaur!"

"Where?" demanded Erik.

"That way," said the soldier.

"How
many?" Erik asked as he heard the thunderous pounding of their gigantic
mounts echoing through the trees.

"Fifty!" Erik stood, risking an
arrow, and shouted, "Fall back!" The bowmen who were climbing a distant
ridge turned to see what the shout was, and saw Erik waving them back
down toward the tree line. They waved acknowledgment and started down.

Erik ducked as two arrows flew at him from the defenders' position and
shouted, "Archers. Kill anything coming through those trees." Erik had
fought the Saaur once before, and he had no illusions of this being a
simple fight. He might have two hundred men with him, but fifty Saaur
were easily their match. And he had a hundred-plus mercenaries who
could sally forth at any time, putting Erik squarely between two armed
foes. Erik ran back to where the horses were picketed, and climbed into
the saddle. He shouted to one of the nearby soldiers, "Ride to the
north. James of Highcastle is up there with his men. Tell him to come
as fast as possible." Even if the soldier found the corporal from
Highcastle
ee
and his men and they rode straight back, it might be too late. The
sound of the advancing Saaur was now like a storm about to break over
them. Erik glanced around, frantically looking for any advantage. The
Saaur averaged nine feet in height, with horses twenty-five hands at
the withers.

"Into the woods!" shouted Erik. Then the Saaur came
crashing into view. Armored with
helms, breastplates, greaves, and bracers, the riders looked like a
soldier's worst nightmare. Reptilian faces showed more emotion than
Erik ever would have imagined before meeting them, and the expression
on their faces was anger. A Saaur wearing the flowing horsetail plume
of an officer led the charge.

"Die, traitors!" he cried as he saw
Erik's men pulling back. The fight became a blur. Erik dodged around
trees, attempting to strike at the hocks of the larger animals,
avoiding the powerful blows of the Saaur. Erik had once charged a
Saaur rider, and he knew just how much more powerful they could be.

From the screams around him punctuated with curses, it was clear other
men were discovering this fact the hard way. Erik lost track of time
and let the battle flow. He knew that by giving his men a chance to
survive in the trees he had lost any hope of organizing the fight.

More distant shouts led him to believe the company they had been
readying to attack had joined the fray. A Saaur bore down on him from
behind, and Erik felt the approach more than heard it, moving his horse
around a tree just in time to avoid being overrun. As the alien rider
swept past, Erik put heels to his horse's flanks and took out after
another Saaur, moving in a different direction. It was clear to Erik
that attacking these giant creatures from behind was the best course of
action. The air hissed with arrows and Erik prayed they came from his
archers taking Saaur riders out of saddles, and

not the other side killing his men. He came up behind the Saaur he
followed as the rider reined in to catch his bearings. The creature was
half-turned in the saddle when Erik caught him with his sword point,
thrusting as deeply into the creature's ribs as he could. The shocked
Saaur looked down at the smaller human, astonishment being the only
possible word to describe the expression on that alien face, and then
he fell backward out of the saddle, almost ripping the sword from
Erik's hands. Throughout the afternoon they rode through the trees, a
crazy weaving dance of death with both sides dying more from blunders
than from the other side's tactics. Then a horn sounded and Erik
turned to see more riders entering the woods. He expected to see his
men from the north, but these riders were coming from the south, as
best he could judge.

"What now?" he muttered to himself, his voice
barely more than an exhausted croak. Suddenly Calis rode into view, and
horse archers started picking off Saaur who were locked in combat with
Erik's men. Erik saw his Captain point behind Erik and shout
something, but he couldn't hear what he said over the din of fighting.

Then the world exploded in pain and Erik saw the ground rising up to
strike him. The breath was knocked from Erik. His shrieking horse
fell on his leg, and he barely kept his wits about him. More by
instinct than thought, he disentangled himself from his thrashing
animal, blood spraying from a wound to the horse's flank. A Saaur rider
turned his animal as Calis charged, and Erik struggled to his feet. He
put his hand to his head and found his helmet gone. Blood covered his
hand when he brought it away, but he couldn't tell if it was his or the
horse's. The rider ignored Erik and charged Calis. Erik braced his
hand on the trunk of a tree to support himself, then knelt
to pick up his sword. Nausea knotted his stomach and his head swam
from the effort, but he stayed conscious. He quickly killed his dying
horse and looked to see Calis engaged with the Saaur. If the Saaur that
Erik had killed had looked surprised, it was nothing compared to the
expression on this one's face at the first blow Calis delivered to the
creature's shield. Erik was certain nothing could have prepared that
rider
for the impact of someone as strong as Calis. The blow knocked the
creature from his saddle. Then it was quiet. Erik opened his eyes and
realized he was sitting on the ground, his back against the tree.

Someone had put a tunic over his legs and a rolled-up shirt behind his
head. A familiar voice said, "You took a nasty one to the head." Erik
turned to see Calis standing nearby. Erik said, "I think I've been hit
worse."

"I'm sure. Blade glanced off the back of your helmet and that
rock head of yours and struck your horse behind the saddle. Broke its
spine. You're a lucky man, von Darkmoor. A couple of inches farther
forward and he would have split you in two." Erik's head rang and
throbbed.

"I don't feel lucky," he said. Taking a drink of water from
a skin held before him, he asked, "What brings you to this dark and
lonely place?" Calis said, "I got your message, but mostly it was
because I gave you orders to be back in Krondor in two months." Erik
smiled and it made his head hurt worse.

"I told you I needed three."

"Orders are orders."

"Does it help I brought you two thousand men
instead of six hundred and have captured or killed another thousand of
the Queen's army?" Calis considered this a moment.

"A little. But not
much." Then he smiled.

EIGHT

~ Evolution

Miranda spoke.

"Where are we?" Pug heard the words, though he knew they
were projections of her mind. He wondered at that peculiar aspect of
the human mind which sought always to force something to fit its
perceptions, irrespective of what the true nature of the thing might
be.

"On our way to heaven," he answered.

"How long have we been
traveling?" she asked.

"It seems like years."

"Funny," answered Pug.

"It seems but moments to me. Time is warped."

"Acaila was right," she
observed.

"He usually is," said Pug. The region they traveled through
was a multicolored distortion of space, or at least that was how Pug
viewed it. Stars swam through vortices of violent colors, rather than
the void of night he expected. And the stars were as often as not
colorless.

"I've never seen anything like this," said Miranda, and to
Pug's mind she seemed to whisper in awe.

"How do you know where to
go?"

"I follow the line," he answered, indicating with a thought the
fragile line of force they were following from Midkemia.

"It goes on
forever," she said.

I59

,i doubt it, but I think Macros the Black went on a very long journey
when he last left Midkemia."

"We're following his journey?"

"Apparently," said Pug. They voyaged through the cosmos, and at last
they descended to a world, a green and blue orb that circled a star.

Around it circled three moons.

"We're back where we started," said
Miranda. Pug turned his attention to the world below and it was indeed
Midkemia.

"No," he said.

"I think we've come to a time much earlier
than when we left."

"Time travel?"

"I've done it before," he answered.

"You must tell me of this someday."

Pug projected amusement.

"I've never been fully in charge of those
events. And I've always felt the risks far outweighed the benefits."

"You don't think traveling in time to kill this Emerald Queen in her
crib would be a good idea?" she asked, and Pug detected the familiar
dry humor in the question.

"We can't, or else we would have."

"There is
that paradox, isn't there."

"More, there are laws that we can't begin
to contemplate." He fell silent, and Miranda couldn't judge if it was a
moment or a year before he spoke again.

"All of reality as we know it
is but an illusion, a dream of some agency we can barely comprehend."

"It sounds so trivial, put that way."

"It's not. It may be the most
profound thing humankind is able to comprehend." They moved down toward
a scene familiar to Pug. Standing near the wreckage of the city of
Sethanon was an army, led by King Lyam. Pug felt odd emotions as he
viewed himself, fifty yearsearlier, listening to Macros's good-bye,
again.

"What's he saying?" asked Miranda.

"Listen," said Pug. A younger Pug said, "Yes, but it is still a hard
thing." A tall, thin man, wearing a brown robe with a whipcord belt and
sandals, said, "All things come to an end, Pug. Now is the end of my
time upon this world. With the ending of the Valhe*i presence, my
powers have returned fully. I will move on to something new. Gathis
will join me, and the others at my island are cared for, so I have no
more duties here." Miranda said, "Gathis didn't leave!" Pug said, "I
know." She focused her attention on her lover and felt something that
was familiar.

"You find this funny?"

"Ironic, perhaps," came the
answer. Macros the Black, legendary sorcerer supreme, was bidding
good-bye to a younger Tomas, who stood resplendent in his gold and
white armor. Miranda said, "He's doing it again, isn't he?"

"What?"

asked Pug.

"Lying to you."

"No, not this time," answered Pug.

"He
honestly believes what he's saying about the Pantathians and
Murmandamus."

Macros said, the powers granted to the one who posed as Murmandamus
were no mean set of conjurer's illusions. He was a force. To have
created such a one and to have captured and manipulated the hearts of
even a race as dark as the moredhel required much. Perhaps without the
Valheru influence across the barriers of space and time, the serpent
people may become much as others, just another intelligent race among
many." He stared into the distance a moment.

"Then again, perhaps not.

Be wary of them."

"He was right on that count," said Miranda.

"The
Pantathians could never be redeemed. The Valheru heritage has warped
them beyond redemption."

"No," said Pug.

"It's something else. Something much larger." Pug and
Miranda watched as Macros finished his goodbyes, and Pug felt stirrings
of old emotions.

"It was a difficult time," he said to Miranda. He
sensed more than heard her understanding.

Macros, more than any other man in Pug's life, was the center figure in
Pug's development. Pug still had dreams of his days in the Assembly of
Magicians on the world of Kelewan, dreams in which Macros was among his
teachers. Pug knew there were things still locked away in his head,
things that only Macros or time could unlock. Pug and Miranda saw
Macros turn and walk away from the assembled army, from Pug and Tomas.

As he moved, he began to fade from sight.

"Cheap theatrics," said
Miranda.

"No, more," said Pug.

"Watch." He shifted his perceptions and
saw that Macros was not vanishing from sight, but was changing. His
body continued to walk, but it became intangible, a thing of mists and
smoke. Power flowed upward as Macros spoke to some unseen agency.

"What is this?" asked Miranda.

"I'm not sure," answered Pug.

"But I
have suspicions."

"Master," said Macros to the unseen agent.

"What is
your bidding?"

"Come, it is time," said the voice. Miranda and Pug
sensed joy in the sorcerer as he rose up on mystic energies, flying
into the void much as Miranda and Pug had in Elvandar.

"Look," said
Miranda, and below they could see his body lying upon the ground.

"Has
he died?"

"Not really," said Plug, 'but his soul is moving elsewhere.

That is what we must follow." Through years and across vast distances,
they flew in close pursuit, chasing the very essence of Macros the
Black.

Again time had no meaning as they moved across the vast gulf between
stars, only to return to Midkemia at last, to be confronted again with
a new vista, as they descended from the skies to a point high above the
vast peaks of the Ratn'gari Mountains.

"We've been hero before!" said
Miranda.

"No," said Pug.

"I mean, yes, we've been here, but not yet."

"Look, there's the Celestial City you created."

"No," answered Pug.

"This is the real thing." Across the peaks of mountains capped with
snow sprawled a city of incredible beauty. Crystal pillars held aloft
roofs like giant diamonds, brilliant facets sparking with an inner
fire. Pug said, "Below, thousands of feet below the clouds, rests the
Necropolis. This is where I led you, and this resembles the illusion I
created for you, but mine was a shadow to this." Miranda agreed.

"This
is solidity where your illusion was smoke and shadow, but it also feels
less real."

"What I built was created to fool your physical senses.

This is a thing of the mind. We are experiencing it through direct
contact, without any instrument of perception intervening."

"I
understand," she said, 'yet I am disoriented." Pug suddenly shifted
before her eyes, and he was as she knew him, a man of solid form, a
body as familiar to her as her own.

"Is this better?" he asked, and
the words seemed to issue from his mouth.

"Yes," she answered.

"You can
do the same. You have only to will it so." She concentrated and
suddenly felt herself become solid and, holding up her hand before her
eyes, she saw it as she expected it to be, solid flesh.

"It is but
another illusion," said Pug, 'but one that will give you a firmer
foundation upon which to stand." The hall in which they stood was
similar to the one of
illusion Pug had created to deceive Miranda when they had first met.

when she had first come searching for Pug, he had led her a merry
chase, finally ending up, in the Ratn'gari Mountains, only a short
distance from here. He had created an illusionary version of this
place in which to hide from her.

Miranda said, "This is similar, but so much more." The ceilings above
were vaults of heaven themselves; lights shone down that were stars.

Miranda saw that where in pug's illusion small areas had been set aside
for the worship of each of the gods, here the areas were the size of
cities. in the distance, the line of energy they had followed from the
time of Macros's departure to the present descended in a gentle arc,
coming down from the ceiling, and disappearing beyond their perception.

As they moved toward it, they passed an intersection of two paths, and
stood where the areas of four gods touched. Odd stirrings in the air
caused Miranda to say, "Can you feel that?"

"Again, shift your
perception," Pug told her. Miranda experimented, and suddenly the hall
was filled with shadowy figures. Like the energy beings they had
become in the groves of Elvandar, these beings lacked features and
identifying marks. But where Pug and Miranda had been brilliant beings
of light, these were shadowy figures, barely perceptible with a faint
illumination.

"What are they?"

"Prayers," answered Pug.

"Each person
who prays to the gods is heard. We perceive that prayer as an icon of
the person praying." Miranda moved down the path and looked upward. A
huge statue, many times the size of a human, rested upon a throne of
azure. The figure was of a man, still and white, with a faint blue
tinge. His eyes were closed. Few of the shadow figures moved near
this statue.

"Who is this?" she asked.

"Eortis, dead God of the Sea. Killian tends
his doma*m until he returns."

"He's dead, but he's returning?"

"You'll
understand more, soon, but for now suffice it to say that if my
suspicions are right, there is far more concerned with this war than
merely defeating mad creatures bent on mindless destruction." He led
her to another intersection. Pointing at a distant wall, he said, "Turn
your mind's eye toward that distant vista, and tell me what you see."

She did as she was bid and at last a giant symbol appeared on the wall.

It was incomprehensible to her for what seemed a very long time, then
it resolved itself into a pattern. I see a Seven Pointed Star of
Ishap, above a field of twelve points in a circle."

"Look deeper," he
instructed. She did so and after a minute another pattern resolved
itself. "I see another pattern, with four bright lights overlapping the
top four points of the star. And there are many dim points between the
twelve bright ones."

"Of the three points of the star below those that
are brightly lit, tell me what you see." Miranda concentrated on them,
and after a moment she saw what Pug meant.

"One of them is dimly
alight! The one in the center. The one to the right of it .. ." She
faltered.

"What?" he asked.

"It's not dim! It's ... blocked.

Something is preventing it from being seen!" Pug said, "That is what I
perceive too. What of the remaining light?"

"It is dead."

"Then I
think I may be close to knowing the truth." The tone he projected into
her mind led her to think he wasn't pleased to learn this particular
truth. They continued along. They reached the farthest corner

of the Hall of the Gods and found themselves between two statues. One
was totally lifeless, and Pug said, "WodarHospur, the dead God of
Knowledge. So much we might know if he were to return."

"Does no one worship knowledge anymore?"

"A few," said Pug, 'but might
and riches seem to occupy humankind's time more than anything else. Of
all the men I've met, only Nakor seems truly driven to know." Know
what?"

"Everything," he answered with amusement. They turned and
regarded the other statue. The faint line that had been the spirit of
Macros descended into the head of the statue. Miranda looked at the
features of the statue and gasped.

"Macros!"

"No," answered Pug.

"Look at the name across the foot of his statue."

"Sarig," she said.

"Who is he?"

"The not-quite-so-dead God of Magic."

"That's Macros the
Black!" she blurted, and for the first time since he had known her, Pug
saw in Miranda's visage true confusion and even a little fear.

"Macros
is a god?" asked Miranda, and for the first time since he had met her,
Pug sensed a genuine flash of concern in her voice. The mocking, dry
humor was gone.

"Yes," he answered, 'and no."

"Which is it?"

"We'll
know better when we talk to him," answered Pug.

"I think I know the
answer, but I want to hear it from him." Pug willed himself into the
air, until he stood before the giant, immobile statue's face. Loudly
he called, "Macros," He was greeted by silence. Miranda 'moved' to
stand next to Pug, and said, "What now?"

"He sleeps. He dreams."

"What
is all this?" she asked.

"I still don't understand."

"Macros the Black is attempting to rise to godhood," answered Pug.

"He
seeks to fill the void left by the departure of Sarig. Or Sarig
created Macros the Black so that someday he would rise to replace him.

Something like that." He pointed to the line of force.

"That line
still functions, and at the other end we'll find the mortal body that
we know as Macros, but the mind, the essence, the soul that is here,
within this being that is forming. They are one and yet different,
connected yet apart."

"How long will it take, this rising to godhood?"

asked Miranda, not attempting to hide the awe in her voice.

"Ages,"
answered Pug softly.

"What do we do?"

"We wake him up." The illusion
that was Pug closed his eyes and focused his attentions within.

Miranda felt energy building within the sorcerer and a mighty magic
being forged. She waited, but when she expected some sort of release
of energy, it continued to build. Soon she was in awe, for while she
had thought she understood the magic arts and the limits of Pug's
talents, she saw she was wrong on both counts. After moments more, she
became truly astonished, for while her own knowledge of magic was not
inconsequential, this was a feat beyond her capacity. Suddenly an
explosion in the air rent the image before them. The sound of a
thousand cymbals dashing rang in the air, deafening the senses. Light
exploded outward, and Miranda saw something, for only an instant: the
eyes of Macros opened, regarding them. Into darkness they plunged, and
the last thing she heard was a faint, plaintive "No!" ]Pug's mind
reached out to touch her own.

"This is difficult. I will attempt to
follow him to where he flees. Our bodies will appear wherever we wish
them to be, so follow me as I follow Macros." ,i know how" she
answered, and sensed him leave.

Suddenly the blackness was everywhere, and for an instant Miranda felt
fear, for she had no point of reference. Then she opened her eyes. She
was cold. The stone floor of the room seemed to
drain the warmth from her body, and she sat up, shivering. She was in
Pug's study at Stardock. She knew what the elven Spellweavers had told
them, that their bodies would appear wherever they were needed when
they returned from their spiritual journey, but she had expected to be
still in Elvandar. Now she was hundreds of miles distant. Pug lay
unconscious next to her, barely breathing. She had no idea how long
they had been gone from Acaila and Tathar's care, but it was clear to
her that Pug was only minutes from death if he did not revive. Miranda
tried to focus a spell of location to cast upon him; he might vanish at
any second, and if she didn't have the spell ready, finding him might
be more difficult. Forcing herself to clarity, she was about to chant
the spell when Pug sat up. He took a gasping, painful breath and then
another. Aborting the spell, she said, "What?" Pug blinked and took
more deep breaths.

"I don't know. The line that bound Macros to Sarig
was severed, and that which recoiled flew back toward m\Midkemia. I
followed Macros's mind and suddenly I was here." Miranda stood up, and
Pug did likewise. Both of them were cold and stiff, and movement was
difficult at first. Pug paced a little to restore circulation.

"That's
the second time I've done this, and it was no more pleasant than the
first."

"Where is Macros?" asked Miranda.

"He must be close by. That's
the only answer." He moved to the door of the study and opened it,
hurrying down the stairs of the tower. He pushed open the lower door
and almost knocked over a young student whose eyes widened.

"Master
Pug!" he exclaimed.

Plug and Miranda ignored the startled student and moved toward the main
entrance to the Academy. As they passed, students and teachers both
turned to stare, and by the time they reached the main entrance to
Stardock, the calling of his name had almost become a chant: "Pug!

Pug." Plug was breathless from excitement.

"I can feel him! He's close
by." Miranda said, "I can, too." They went outside and looked around.

Plug pointed.

"There!" At the edge of the lake a knot of excited
students had gathered, and Pug could hear Nakor's voice shouting,
"Stand back!" A man hung in the air, and Pug could sense the energies
that danced around him. He was a beggar by his look, filthy, wearing
only a dirty loincloth, his hair and beard a dirty mat, but he exuded
power. The air sparkled as he seemed to be drawn up in the air, along
the thread of energy that Pug had followed from the Celestial City.

Plug and Miranda hurried to where the students were assembled, and Pug
ordered, "Stand aside." One looked over his shoulder.

"Master Pug." At
the sound of his name, others backed away. Sitting at the edge of the
water were Nakor and Sho Pi, watching in rapt attention as the man
hovered in the air.

"Do you see?" said Nakor as Pug came up to him.

"He attempts to rise, but that other force, that thing in the air, it's
falling back here, toward the water." If Nakor felt any surprise at
Pug's appearance at Stardock, he did not show it.

"Something marvelous
has happened," said Nakor, 'and soon we shall know a truth." He glanced
at Pug.

"Or maybe you know it already." The beggar floated down into
the water, where he sat, waist deep. Pug watched as the thread of
energy coiled down from the sky and at last seemed to vanish into the
water around the man. He was weeping.

Pug moved into the water and knelt next to the man.

"Macros?" After a
moment, the slender man turned to regard Pug. In a hoarse whisper he
said, "Do you know what you've
done? I was on the verge of godhood." He closed his eyes for a moment
and a sob shook his shoulders. Then he took a deep breath.

"The
knowledge, the understanding it's leaving, like water spilling from a
vessel too shallow to hold it." He pointed to his own head and closed
his eyes, as if trying to hold onto some image. At last he went on,
its as if I saw the universe in its entirety, but was looking through a
hole in a fence, and as you pull me back from the fence I see less and
less by the second ... Moments ago I could have told you the secrets of
the universe I Now, even as I try to remember, concepts fall away from
me and all I'm left with is the knowledge of what I've lost. Years of
work undone."

"We had need," said Pug softly.

"My time here was done."

insisted Macros, standing and looking at his successor. His knees were
wobbly.

"It was not your place to call me back. My next mission was
beyond your understanding."

"Obviously not," said Miranda. Macros
looked to the woman without recognition. Then his eyes narrowed.

"Miranda?"

"Hello, Daddy," said the young woman.

"It's been a while."

Pug turned, his face showing surprise. Nakor laughed as he said,
""Daddy"?" Macros the Black, sorcerer of legend, glanced from Pug to
Miranda and said, "We need to talk." He took a deep breath and said, "I
think I've regained my composure."

"Good," said Miranda, 'because we're
about to hand you another shock." Macros paused and seemed to brace
himself.

"All right, what is it?,

"It's Mother," answered Miranda.

"She's trying to destroy the world."

Even Nakor could barely contain his astonishment at that remark.

Finally Macros said, "I need a drink." Miranda wrinkled her nose.

"First you need a bath."

While Macros bathed, Miranda, Pug, and Nakor sat in Pug's study. Sho
Pi was attending the needs of the sorcerer, and Pug was opening a
bottle of particularly good wine from Darkmoor.

"You need to share
something with me," said Miranda. Pug looked at his lover and said,
"Seems we both need to do some sharing.

"Daddy"?" Nakor grinned.

"I
think that would make me your stepfather, except I was Joma's first
husband, and Macros her second."

"She called herself Jania when I was
born,"s aid Miranda. She seemed oblivious to the little man's delight
in all this, and instead revealed what looked to be barely controlled
fury. To Pug she said, "That stunt of yours in the Celestial City,
when you removed Macros from the consciousness of Sarig-' "What!" said
Nakor, his eyes wide.

"I must hear of this."

"What about it?" said
Pug.

"I could feel what you were doing."

"And?"

"The power, the sheer
scope of the energies you used ... YOU could have destroyed the Emerald
Queen and her pitiful band of Pantathians as I could step on an anthill
Why has this war gone on so long, Pug? Why haven't you acted to stop
it?" Pug sighed.

"Because, like ants, those that survived would only
scurry off into the dark and begin again. And there's more."

"What?"

asked Miranda.

]From the door, Macros said, "Nothing we can speak of here, not yet.

Pug, it's too dangerous." pug indicated an empty chair and the freshly
bathed sorcerer sat and took the cup that was waiting for him. Macros
wore a borrowed robe, black instead of his usual brown. After a long
sip he said, "Excellent. There are advantages, after all, to being
alive." Nakor said, "I'm Nakor."

Macros's eyes narrowed. He studied Nakor's face a moment, then
recognition dawned.

"The Isalani! I know you. You cheated me at
cards once."

"I'm the one." With enough emotion to almost bring tears
to his eyes, Nakor admitted, "You were my greatest challenge." He
turned to Pug.

"I was wrong when I said Macros wouldn't remember me."

Macros pointed at Nakor.

"That scoundrel did the only thing he could:

he made me think he was using magic so when I erected my defenses he
could manipulate the cards with simple sleight of hand."

"Sleight of
hand?" said FlugPug.

"He stacked the deck!" Macros said with a laugh.

"Not really," said Nakor modestly.

"I switched the cards and slipped
in a cold deck."

"Will you stop it!" exclaimed Miranda, slamming her
hand on the table.

"This is not some reunion of clear friends. This
is.. ."

"What?" asked Pug.

"I don't know. We're trying to save the
world, and you're reminiscing about card games." Pug saw Sho Pi in the
doorway, and he motioned for the young man to close the door, leaving
the four of them in privacy. Sho Pi nodded, shut the door, and left.

Pug said, "First, I'd like to ask about this relationship. Seems you
all have ties I knew nothing about." Macros said, "To all of you." Pug
suddenly looked alarmed.

"Don't tell me I'm your

unacknowledged son." He glanced at Miranda and saw his concern mirrored
on her face.

"You can relax," said Macros.

"You're not her brother."

He sighed.

"But when I said you were as much a son to me as any I have
fathered, I meant it." He sipped his wine and remembered.

"When you
were born, I sensed greatness in you, lad. You were the son of a maid
in Crydee, and a wandering soldier. But as the Tsurani sense power in
children and train them to the Assembly, I saw you had greatness,
perhaps more than any living magician in this world."

"And you did
what?" asked Nakor.

"I unlocked that magic. Else how could Pug have
come to the Greater Magic?"

"Sarig?" asked Pug. Macros nodded.

"I am
his creature."

"Sarig?" said Nakor.

"I thought he was a legend."

"He
is," said Miranda, 'and a dead god, to boot. But he's obviously not as
dead as some think." Pug said, "Why don't you start at the beginning."

"And this time, the truth," added Miranda. Macros shrugged.

"The story
I told you and Tomas, to while away the tiinetime we spent in the
Garden of the City Forever was a far more entertaining one than the
truth, Pug.

"I was nothing as a child. A city boy from a distant
land-' "Stop it!" said Miranda.

"You're doing it again, Father!"

Macros sighed.

"Very well, I was born in the city of Kesh. My father
was a tailor and my mother a wonderful person, a woman who managed my
father's accounts, kept an orderly house, and raised a wWMI and
disobedient son. My father had many rich merchants among his clientele
and we lived well enough." looking at his daughter, he said,
"Satisfied?" She nodded.

"But I developed a taste for adventure, or at
least for rough company. When I was little more than a lad, I went

I73

on a trip with some of my friends, without the knowledge or blessings
of my parents. We bought a map, one reputed to show the location of a
lost treasure." Nakor nodded.

"Slavers." Macros said "Yes. It was a
trap to lure foolish boys who would end up on the Durbin slave
block."

"How long ago was this?" asked Pug.

"Nearly five hundred years ago,"
said Macros.

"At the height of the Empire's power.

"I escaped the
slavers and hid in the mountains, but I became lost. Ahnostalmost dead
from starvation I found an ancient, abandoned temple. Half delirious,
I collapsed on the altar and prayed to whatever god ruled that shrine
to save me, in exchange for which I'd serve him." Macros blinked, as if
trying to remember.

"I don't remember exactly what occurred next. But
I think I spoke to Sarig, and either I died and he took me before I
went to the Hall of Lims-Kragma, or he got me just before my death; but
from that moment on, I was Sarig's creature.

"It may be my prayer was
the first to him since the Chaos Wars, though someone had to have built
that shrine. Maybe someday I'll know. But whatever else, that dying
prayer opened an avenue, a conduit if you will, and from that ruined
temple I emerged no longer a boy, but a man of magic. I knew things as
if I possessed memories of them, yet I know they weren't my memories.

Sarig was within me, and part of me was within Sarig."

"No wonder you
had such power," said Pug. Macros looked from face to face.

"To
understand what I'm about to tell you, you need put aside all
prejudices and preconceptions.

"The gods are both real and illusion.

They are real in that they exist and exert force over this world and
our lives. They are illusions in that they are nothing like what We
perceive them to be." Nakor laughed his cackling laugh.

"This is
wonder-full'

Pug nodded. Macros said, "Forces exist in nature, and we interact with
them. As we think of them, some of them become what we think."

"Wait a
minute," said Miranda.

"You've lost me."

"Think of ancient Humans,
huddled in a cave and contemplating the wonder of fire. On a cold, wet
night, it's their friend and a source of life. They give to that fire
a personality, and after a while they worship it. Then that evolves
into the worship of the spirit of fire, which in turn becomes the god
of fire."

"Prandur," said Flugpug.

"Exactly," said Macros.

"And when
enough people worship, the energy that we call Prandur begins to
manifest certain aspects, certain attributes that match the
expectations of the worshipers." Nakor was almost almost beside himself
with glee.

"Man creates the gods." he exclaimed.

"In a manner of
speaking," said Macros. His eyes reflected a deep pain.

"For most of
my life I've been a part of Sarig, his agent on Midkemia and elsewhere,
his eyes and ears, and I thought my ultimate late was to merge with
him, to assume his mantle and return magic in all its glory to
Midkemia." Glancing at Pug, he said, "You were one of my better
experiments. You returned the Greater Magic to Midkemia."

"This is all
very interesting," said Miranda, but what about Mother?" Nakor lost his
grin.

"I think Mom a is dead." Miranda said, "What? How do you
know?"

"When I last saw her, I sensed that another inhabited her body,
and that which we knew as your mother was absent. I can only assume
she is dead, or hidden away someplace." Pug asked, "How do all of you
fit in this?" Nakor said, "When I was young, I met a girl named ioma,

who was beautiful and smart and who seemed interested in me." He
grinned.

"I am not what you would call a handsome man, nor was I when
I was young. But as all young men, I wished to be loved by a beautiful
woman.

"She didn't love me, however. She loved power, and she hungered
after what you call magic. She wanted to stay young and beautiful
forever. She feared death, and growing old even more.

"So I showed her tricks. I showed her how to manipulate what I call
'stuff," and when she had learned all I could teach her, she left me."

"And found me," said Macros. He glanced at Miranda.

"I met your
mother in Kesh, and she was as Nakor described, a beautiful young woman
who pursued me with ardor. I ignored her hunger for power. I was
blinded by youthful romance. Despite my age and ability, I acted young
and foolish. I discovered her deceit later, after you were born,
Miranda, but before she could learn all I could teach she was
centuries removed from that possibility, though she didn't know it and I refused to show her more."

"Miranda said, "So you took me from
her and left me with strangers. I was ten years old!"

"No," said
Macros.

"I accepted you when she left us both, and found you good
people to raise you. I know I only visited you briefly, from tirnetime
to time, but ... it was difficult."

Pug said, "And was this when you became the "Black Sorcerer"?"

"Yes,"
said Macros.

"Dealing with humanity at that level was too painful, and
I didn't know it at the time, but Sarig had uses for me. The gods move
in ways we cannot understand, so much of what drove me was compulsion
or desire, and clear goals were seldom mine. I found that island,
abandoned by those who lived there, the people who had built that
lovely villa. I assume they were a family of Keshians, probably nobles
from Queg, who fled there

when the secession occurred. And I built the black castle, to scare
away travelers, and life became much as it was when you first came to
the isle, Pug. What was that, fifty, sixty years ago?" Pug nodded.

"Sometimes it seems like yesterday when Kulgan and I stood on the beach
reading your message." Pug studied the sorcerer's face.

"But so much
of what you've done, so much of what you've told me, it's all been lies
and deceit."

"Yes, but much of it was truth, as well. I could sense my
future, even see it clearly at times. That was never a lie. My life
was shown to me in idle thoughts, random dreams, and visions that would
come unexpectedly. Were he still living in full, Sarig could have
given me more, but were he still alive as we think of such things, he
wouldn't need me."

"So when you told me that I was to take your place,"
said Pug, 'you really thought you were done here?"

"Yes," said Macros.

"That bit of story telling I gave you, about kings to advise and wars
to stop, was just that, something to divert your interest from me, to
let me find my own way without your coming to find me when you needed
some advice." Pug saw Macros's anger growing again.

"If you were to
have become one with Sarig, I would not have been allowed to draw you
back, Macros. He wouldn't have permitted it." The anger lessened but
didn't entirely vanish. Pug could see it smoldering below the surface,
like a banked fire.

"There is that," Macros admitted.

"The problem is
that I know how much I've forgotten. "Te ars gathered in his eyes.

"I can't explain." Nakor's gaze narrowed.

"But was it you?"

"What do
you mean?" asked Macros.

"Were you the one who knew, or was it this God
of Magic?"

Macros said softly, "I don't know." Pug said, "What do you mean?"

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Nakor said to Macros, 'but as you became
more godlike, didn't your sense of "self " lessen? Didn't you feel
more detached from who you were.

Macros nodded.

"That is true. My life became a dream, a dim memory."

"I suspect that had you achieved godhood, you'd not have known it, for
you, the mind we call Macros, would have ceased to exist," observed
Nakor. Macros considered this.

"I will have to ponder that." Miranda
said, "What about the Queen? Why isn't she my mother?" Nakor shrugged.

"I don't know. Maybe she made the wrong deal with the Pantathians.

When she was Lady Clovis, she was hungering after eternal youth, and
she was practicing some very nasty necromancy. Bad things to do, and
she really was in over her head. That was twenty years ago, so who
knows what has happened since then. She may have been punished for her
failing in the plot with the Overlord of the City of the Serpent River
and his magician, or it may be simply expedient for whatever has taken
her over to use her this way. I don't know. But I do know that the
woman who was once wed to both of us is probably dead." Pug turned to
Miranda.

"If it's time for making a clean breast of things, why don't
you tell us your part in this?" Miranda said, "When I began to manifest
powers, I hid that fact from my foster parents. They tried to get me
interested in marrying one of the local merchants, so I ran away." She
glared at Macros.

"That was two hundred fifty years ago, if you'd
bothered to come investigate!" Macros could only say, "I'm sorry."

"I
found a magician, an old woman named Gert." She smiled as she said,
"When I need to, I can look like her,

I78

and given some men's response to a pretty face and a round bosom,
that's a good thing to know."

"That's a very good trick," agreed Nakor.

"She was hideous to look at, but she had the soul of a Saint of Sung,
and she took me in. She quickly recognized my abilities and taught me
what she knew. After she died, I began seeking out others who could
teach.

"About fifty years ago, I was arrested by the Keshian Secret
Police. A fox of a man named Raouf Manif HazaraKhan saw in me a great
weapon, so he recruited me."

"Hazara-Khan is a well-known name in
Krondor," said IP,ug.

"Wasn't he the brother of Kesh's ambassador to
Krondor?"

"The same. His brother had reported some very strange things
about the battle of Sethanon, not the least of which was the appearance
of dragon riders in the sky, a gigantic explosion of green fire, and
the utter destruction of one of the Kingdom's more modest cities.

"So
they set me to the task of discovering exactly what was going on."

"And?" said Pug.

"And I deserted." Nakor positively cackled with glee.

"That's wonder full "When I began discovering the truth, I realized we
were involved with much more important things than servi ving
onerrationn or another."

"That's certain," said Pug.

"We've got some
interesting problems to confront, and some choices to make."

"Most
important," said Nakor, 'we have to discover who is behind all these
things that are going on."

"The third player," said Miranda. Macros
said, "I know who it is."

"The Demon King," said Miranda.

"No," said
Pug. Looking at Macros, he said, "If it's as I think it is, the
situation is such that we may not even discuss it safely."

"Certainly not here," agreed Macros.

"And we could use an expert on
certain lore from the Order of Ishap."

"Which means we need to go to
Sarth," said Pug. Macros yawned.

"Very well, but I could use a nap
first." Nakor got up.

"I'll take you to my apartment. it has extra
bedrooms in it." Pug stood as well.

"Don't let him keep you up all
night,"

he said to Macros, and he and Nakor left. Pug turned to Miranda.

"Well, it seems we're finally getting to the heart of things." Miranda
said, "Maybe. My father is a self-confessed liar, remember?"

"And
you?"

"I've never lied to you," she said defensively.

"But you've
hidden things from me."

"What about you?" she said, her tone
accusatory.

"You still haven't told me why you don't just fly across
the water and sink the Queen's fleet. I saw what you did. I couldn't
believe the power you control." Pug said, "I can explain that, but not
until we're someplace safe."

"Safe from what?"

"I can't explain that
until then, either." Miranda shook her head.

"You irritate me at
times, Pug." Pug laughed.

"I expect I do. You're not exactly without
edges yourself." She stood up and crossed to stand before him. Putting
her arms around him, she said, "One truth: I love you." He said, "I
love you, too ... And I never thought I'd hear myself say that to
another woman after Katala died."

"Well, it's about time," she said.

Pug hesitated.

"What about Calis?"

"I love him, as well." When she
felt Pug go tense. she said.

"But in a different way. He's a friend
and very special to me. And he needs a great deal and asks for so
very

I80

little. if we live through this, I think I can help him find
happiness." Pug said, "Does that mean you're choosing him?" Miranda
drew back slightly so she could look Pug in the eyes.

"No, stupid. it
means I think I know a few things about him and what he truly needs."

"Like what?"

"Let's all live through this, first, then I'll tell you."

He smiled and kissed her. They lingered in their embrace, then she
hugged him tight and, whispering in hisear, she added, "Maybe." He
slapped her on the bottom and she laughed. Then he kissed her again.

NINE

Plots

Erik shifted his weight. His dress uniform was uncomfortable, and his
head still hurt from the blow he had taken the previous week. Now it
was merely a dull throb when he turned too quickly or when he was
exerting himself, which was every day. The Novindus mercenaries who had
agreed to come over to the King's service were proving an interesting
training problem for Jadow Shati and the other sergeants. Alfred had
been promoted to Sergeant, so Erik was depending on a new bully in his
company, a Corporal Harper. As Erik rubbed absently at the back of his
head, Calis said, "Still hurts?" Erik said, "Lesseach day, but you were
right about that Saaur's blow. Two inches more and I'd have been cut
in half." Calis nodded as the Prince and his retinue entered the room.

Patrick said, "Let's get this meeting underway." Nicholas, uncle to the
Prince of Krondor and Admiral m command of the Western Fleet of the
Kingdom, said, Our latest intelligence tells us they will absolutely be
coming this way: a quick strike through Krondor and over the mountains
to Sethanon." I Patrick nodded.

"I agree, though my father is still
concerned about the possibility we're being intentionally fed false
reports and the fleet will end up sailing around the world to Salador,
in an attempt to reach Sethanon from the cast."

"That was a possibility, but always very unlikely," said Calis.

"Now
we know it's not remotely probable." Erik studied the others at the
conference, feeling far out of his depth. Sitting next to the Prince
was James, Duke of Krondor, and on the Prince's other side William,
Knight Marshal of Krondor. Owen Greylock, former Swordmaster at
Darkmoor and now a Knight-Captain of the King's Army, sat next to
William. Nicholas sat next to James, and Calis between Erik and
Nicholas. On Owen's other side sat a man unknown to Erik, a scribe who
wrote down whatever was said in an odd script unlike anything Erik had
seen before. Calis said, "Our enemy is many things, but subtle is not
one of them. They tried subtle once, when they abducted your cousin
Margaret and the others from Crydee." Patrick snorted.

"Sacking the
Far Coast wasn't exactly my idea of subtle."

"That's the point," said
Calis.

"Had they abducted a few commoners here and there, and let
their infected duplicates wander through Krondor..."

"Why even bother
with the abductions?" asked James.

"My point exactly," said Calis.

"They do not think as we do. I doubt we will ever understand them.f He
pointed to the map on the opposite wall. showing the Kingdom from
Land's End to the eastern border outside the city of Ran.

"Salador and
Krondor both present problems, and the route from Salador to Sethanon
iseasier, but getting to Salador presents many additional problems.

"It's a longer journey, which means an additional risk of unexpected
damage to stores or to ships by storm. And it's a route far more
likely to bring the Empire's attention to bear upon the fleet." He
stood and walked over to the map. He motioned and a servant removed
it, replacing it with one in smaller scale, showing the entire world as
they knew it. Waving at the
bottom half of the map, where Novindus was shown, Calis said, "Currents
here force anyone coming this way to move in a straight line from the
eastern shore of Novindus to a point just southeast of the tip of the
Triagia, then they have to move almost due north to strike the southern
coast of Kesh. That right-angle route adds a month of travel time. We
found that out when we used that Brijaner long ship to get to Novindus
last time. But crossing the Endless Sea to
reach the Bitter Sea from the City of the Serpent River is a direct
line by comparison." He pointed to the long, curving coast of Kesh on
the eastern side of the continent and said, "South of the Kingdom Sea
the Brijaners and other Keshian raiders trade regularly. Additionally,
here," he pointed to the area of the ocean just northeast of the
range of mountains called the Girdle of Kesh - 'is the heaviest
concentration of the Empire's Eastern Fleet. They are not going to sit
idly by and watch six hundred hostile ships float past, even if they
know the Kingdom is their ultimate target." He shook his head.

"Plus
the invasion fleet would have to sail past Roldem and the other Eastern
kingdoms who might harry them in their passing.

"No, they will come
this way. The mercenaries we've captured all tell of similar
assignments: to capture and hold vital points along the mountains, so
they can allow additional forces to pass over the ridge unopposed."

William turned to Admiral Nicholas.

"Nicky, we've talked about the
risk of the Straits of Darkness passage .. ." Nicholas said, "It's
not that risky if you know what you're doing, even in late fall. Amos
Trask and my father once sailed it in the dead of winter." He
considered.

"But for this fleet to clear the straits and reach
Krondor, they would be best to come through no earlier than late spring
or early summer. Midsummer is perfect. The weather's the best, the
tides the most forgiving.. He paused and looked into space.

"What?"

said Prince Patrick after a minute.

I84

"I still urge you to let me sail against them before they enter the
Bitter Sea." Patrick sighed and looked at James. The Duke of Krondor
said, "Nicky, we've been over this territory before."

"I know," said
Nicholas.

"And I know it's risky, but think of the benefits!" He)rose,
came to stand next to Calis, and motioned to the servant.

"Give me the
larger map." At once the scribe stood, removed the map of the world
from the wall and rapidly hung another of the same size, but of much
larger scale, showing the Western Kingdom and major portions of Kesh
and the north, from the Far Coast to Malac's Cross. Pointing to the
Straits of Darkness Nicholas said, "They're bringing six hundred or
more ships. They can't have six hundred captains and crews worth spit."

He slapped his hand against the wall for emphasis.

"If we bring the
fleet down out of the Sunset Islands or closer in, say, Tulan' his
finger stabbed at the southernmost city on the Far Coast 'we can
catch them as they begin to come through the straits. I can put thirty
warships of size at their rear and another two or three dozen fast
cutters. We sail in, slash them from behind, and sink as many of the
wallowing barges they're carrying their troops in as possible, then
when their escort ships turn to fight, we sail off. I don't care how
good their escort ships or captains are, we know the winds and current
better than they. We can get away." He was the most animated Erik had
ever seen him as he said, "If we're fortunate we'll catch them with
their escorts coming through the straits before the troop ships, unable
to turn and come back because of their own ships. We could sink a
third, perhaps a half of their fleet."

"Or if they split their escorts
and put half of them at the rear, you could lose every ship we have in
the West without doing any real damage," said Patrick. He shook his
head.

"Nicky, if we had the Western Imperial Fleet with us, or if
Quegan war galleys would sail from the eastern

I85

side of the straits, maybe I could see risking this." The prince
sighed.

"We are the smallest sea power in the West."

"But we have the
best ships and men," said Nicholas.

"I know," conceded Patrick, 'but we
don't have enough
of them."

"Nor time to build them," said William.

"Pursuing this
discussion further is pointless."

"Maybe," said James.

"What?" asked
Patrick. The old Duke smiled.

"Something you just said. About Queg
raiding from the east. I might be able to arrange that."

"How?" asked
the Prince. James said, "Let me worry about that." Patrick said, "Very
well. Let me know what you're dreaming up, though, before you get us
into another war with Queg." James smiled.

"I'm waiting for some
reports from Queg, and when I have them' he turned to Nicky -'you can
sail your fleet to Tulan. And tell Duke Harry to cut his fleet loose
from the Sunset Islands and put it under your flag. That squadron of
cutthroats wil.swell your flotilla to what, fifty ships?" Nicholas was
enthusiastic.

"Sixty-five!" James put up a hand in a restraining
gesture.

"Don't get too carried away. This plot of mine may not work.

I'll let you know one way or another in a month or so." Turning to the
others at the table, the Prince asked, "Anything else?"

"Why Krondor?"

asked Greylock. Patrick said, "Captain?"

"I mean, I agree it's likely
they'll come into the Bitter Sea, but why attack Krondor?"

"Do you see
an alternative?" asked the Prince.

"Several," answered Greylock.

"None
of them obviously superior, but the two that would appeal to me most if

were the Emerald Queen's commander would be either to land north of
Krondor, keep the defenders bottled up inside the city with a small
force, moving the army around the city, then into the East, over the
King's Highway, or to put ashore between Land's End and Krondor, moving
to the south of the city along the Keshian border, then north to the
pass to the east. I would lose some portion of my army holding Kingdom
forces inside the city, but less than in a full assault." Patrick said,
"William?"

"We've considered it, but there's nothing in our reports
that would indicate this General Fadawah, who commands for the Queen,
is inclined to leave anything alive behind his lines."

"Food?"

suggested Erik.

"Pardon?" asked the Prince of Krondor.

"I'm sorry,
Highness, but it seems to me that with all the numbers of ships and men
we've had tossed about over the last few years, if they're bringing
even as few as six hundred ships ... I could show you my calculations,
but I think they're going to be out of food when they get here."

Nicholas said, "Yes, that's it," He pointed to the island nation of
Queg.

"They can't raid Queg for food, nor down here along the Jal-Pur
Desert. No, they need to sack Krondor to provision their army before
they move east." Patrick said, "I agree. Which is why, if James's plan
doesn't work, I want the fleet deployed to the north near Sarth. When
they attempt to come ashore, that's when you harry them." Nicholas
swore.

"Damn it, Patrick, that's the worst time! You know they'll
bring their fastest ships into skirmish along their perimeter. They'll
need only one or two large warships to break through whatever we have
at the harbor mouth if we take all our big ships up the coast. Then
they sail their troop ships into the harbor and seize the dtyl You
can't have it both ways, Patrick. If you want me to
defend the city, my fleet needs to be equally divided between ships
inside the harbor and those defending outside the seawall."

"Erik said,
"Excuse me."

"Yes?" said Patrick.

"If it's not too late, you could
change the way ships enter the harbor." James grinned.

"We're already
working on that, Sergeant

Major. We're going to make them come to a complete right-angle turn
through a new set of breakwaters' "No, m'lord,"interrupted Erik.

"I
mean build another wall along the northern jetty to the harbor, put a
sea gate in between the new wall and the old one, make them sail
against the wind, not with the currents at the old breakwater, so
they're as slow as can be when they have to turn into the harbor
proper. Maybe even have it so they have to be towed around."

"Why the
new wall?" asked Calis.

"Catapults and ballista platforms," answered
Greylock.

"Burning anything coming around that corner that doesn't fly
Kingdom colors."

"If you sink the first two or three ships as they come
in..." said Nicholas.

"They'll have to turn away from the harbor and
land on the beaches to the north of the city!" finished Patrick.

"Or
attempt to land on the wall itself !" said William.

"Sergeant Major,
I'm impressed." Patrick looked at Duke James.

"Can we do it?"

"We can,
but it will be expensive to do it in time. And the merchants will set
up a howl about the inconvenience." Patrick said, "Let them." A door
opened and a squire in the Livery of the palace entered, carrying a
document to Duke James. He opened it and read.

"They've sailed!"

Patrick said, "We're certain?" Duke James nodded to Calis, who said,
"We left a few

agents behind after the fall of the City of the Serpent River. It's
been more difficult to get intelligence out of that region, but we left
behind one fast ship, and our best crew, in a safe location. It took a
messenger two days by fast horse to reach our ship, then the ship left
at once. We know it's faster than anything ~the Queen has, and they're
moving at the speed of the slowest ship in the flotilla." He
calculated, then looked around the table.

"They will be at the Straits
just before Midsummer's Day." James said, "That leaves us three months
to prepare." Patrick said, "Do what you must, and let me know the
details of this Quegan plot of yours as soon as possible." He stood and
the others in the room rose.

"This meeting is adjourned." Duke James
motioned Erik over to his side.

"Sir?" said Erik.

"Send a note to that
friend of yours and ten him to get, here as soon as possible. I think
I need Mr. Avery to run an errand for me." Erik nodded.

"Yes, sir."

After Erik had left, James beckoned to William.

"It's time to tell
young von Darkmoor the truth, I think." Owen Greylock, who had followed
William to the Duke's side, said, "He won't like it."

"But he'll follow
orders." said William.

"He's the best." James smiled.

"He is that,
isn't he? We're lucky to have him." James's smile faded after a
moment.

"I wish others could be as lucky as that." he said, "If there
were any other way..." James held up his hand.

"I believe we shall see
more pain and destruction in the next half year than the Kingdom has
known in its history. But when the smoke settles. there Will still be
a Kingdom. And a world. And those who survive will be the luckiest of
all."

"I hope we may be among them," said Greylock. With a bitter note,
James said.

"Don't count on it, my

I89

friend. Don't count on it." Without further words, the Duke
departed.

"Again?" said Roo.

"Why?"

"Because I need you to buy more Quegan fire
oil."

"But, Your Grace," said Roo, as he sat uncomfortably
before the Duke of Krondor.

"I can send a message to Lord Vasarius -'
"No, I think you need to go in person." Roo's eyes narrowed.

"You're
not going to tell me what this is about, are you?"

"What you don't know
can't be tortured out of you, can it?" Roo didn't care for that answer.

"When do you wish me to leave?"

"Next week. I have a few things I
must do before then, and then off you'll go. It'll be a short trip,
don't worry." Roo stood.

"If you say so."

"I do. Now good day."

"Good
day, my lord," said Roo, and his tone showed he was less than pleased
to have to endure another visit with his erstwhile partner. It wasn't
that Lord Vasarius was not a hospitable man, but his idea of
hospitality was to bore his guest with interminable stories over bad
food and wine. And that daughter of his. Roo thought she was enough to
make him give up women. Then he thought of Sylvia, and he amended that
to almost enough to make him give up women. As he left the Duke's
private chambers, another door opened and a squire said, "Lord Vencar,
Your Grace."

"Send him in, please." A moment later, Arutha entered the
room, still covered with road dust.

"Father," he said in greeting.

James kissed his son on the cheek.

"Is it done?" Arutha grinned and
for a moment James saw a hint of himself in his son.

"It's done."

I9I

James struck his fist into the palm of his left hand.

"Finally.

Something is going our way. Is Nakor ~g?"

"More than willing," said
Arutha.

"That madman would have done it simply for the pleasure of
seeing the faces of those other magicians when it happens, I'm certain,
but he also understands" we have to protect our southern flank." James
regarded the map in his office.

"That's one problem."

"There's
another," said Arutha.

"What?"

"I want Jimmy and Dash out of the city-'
James waved away the request.

"I need them here."

"I mean it, Father.

They have your impossible sense of immortality, and if you leave it up
to them, they'll cut things too close and be trapped in the city when
it falls. You know that's true." James studied his son's face, and
sighed. He sat behind the desk and said, "All right. When the Queen's
fleet is sighted off Land's End, send them away. Where do you want
them to go?"

"Their mother is visiting family in Roldem."

"That's
convenient," said James dryly. 'very," said Arutha.

"Look, you and I
stand scant chance of surviving this. You can he to me. even
yourself, but you can't lie to Mother." James nodded. she's had a look
on her face I've not seen before, ever, and I've seen her go through
most everything I can imagine He met his father's gaze with an
unwavering one in return and said, "Being a member of your family
provides ample opportunity to test one's temperament." James grinned,
and for a moment he looked like the young father who had told stories
of Jimmy the Hand when Arutha was a child.

"But it's never been dull,
has

Arutha shook his head.

"Never that." Then he studied his father.

"You're staying to the end, aren't you?" James said, "This is my home.

I was born here." If there was any regret in his statement, he hid it
well.

"You plan on dying here?" James said, "I don't plan on dying, but
if I must, I wouldn't be anywhere else." He slapped the desk with the
palm of his hand.

"Look, there are a lot of things we can't plan on,
and staying alive until tomorrow is one of them.

Life has shown me all too often it's a fragile gift. Remember, no one
gets out of life alive." He stood up.

"Go get refreshed and come have
dinner with me. Your mother will be pleased to see you again. If I
can get word to your sons we'll have a family dinner."

"That would be
nice," said Arutha. He left, and after the door was closed, James
crossed the room to another door, slipping through. He moved down a
corridor to a small door where he had to duck his head to pass through.

Down a flight of twisting stairs and through another long corridor.

He reached a door and tested the handle, finding it locked. He knocked
twice, then when a single knock came from the other side, he knocked
again. The latch clicked and the door swung open. Behind the door he
found Dash and Jimmy, and a pair of men wearing unmarked uniforms and
black hoods with eye slits. Inside the room, instruments of torture
were waiting, and along the wall empty shackles hung. A man sat tied
to a heavy wooden chair, his head slumped forward on his chest.

"Anything?" asked James.

"Nothing," said Dash.

"Get back to your
employer. I've just told him you're going to Queg again. He's not
very happy and will be even less so when he discovers you're not at the
office doing whatever it is he pays you to do." Dash said, "Queg?

Again?"

James nodded.

"I'll explain later." As Dash reached the door, James
said, "Oh, by the way, your father's back, so join us for dinner
tonight." Dash nodded and the door closed. His grandfather said to
Jiimy, "Revive him." Jimmy threw a cup of water into the man's face and
he roused. James grabbed the man by the hair and looked him in the
eyes.

"Your masters would have been kinder had they not put those
blocks around your mind. My wife lies abed with a nasty headache and
that puts me in a foul temper. So we must do this the old-fashioned
way." He nodded to the two torturers. They knew their craft and
quickly and efficiently set about applying the tools of their trade.

The prisoner, an agent of the Emerald Queen Picked up the day before,
began to scream.

Roo attempted to look alert as Vasarius told a remarkably boring story
of a deal negotiated with a trading combine from the Free Cities. The
story itself didn't hold Roo's attention. He was more curious about
matters of business than anyone he knew, and the particulars of the
trade were unusual, but Vasarius managed to tell the story in the most
convoluted, tedious way, denuding it of anything remotely like
personality, color, or humor. What held Roo's interest was the very
ineptitude of his storytelling. Roo at this point no longer had any
idea who the principals were, why they were enmeshed in this contract,
or even what the transaction was about, or why this story was supposed
to be funny, but he was certain that with a little urging on his part,
Vasarius could make it even more pointless and rambling before he
finished.

"And then?" Roo supplied, causing Vasarius to launch into
another parenthetical exposition on some topic that was, to him and him
alone in the world, somehow relevant. Roo let his gaze wander to Livia,
who seemed to be involved in some sort of silent communication with

I93

jimmy. Roo wasn't sure, but the girl seemed somehow put out with Roo's
personal secretary, and Roo wondered what
had passed between them on their last visit. To hear Jimmy tell it, he
had been the complete gentleman, even to the point of ignoring hints
that might have led to a sexual encounter. Aware suddenly that Vasarius
had become silent, Roo said, "My, my. How fascinating," without
missing a beat.

"Very," said the Quegan noble.

"You don't play fast
and loose with Lord Venchenzo's cargo and then go brag on it." Roo
thought he better discreetly ask around who Lord Venchenzo might be, so
if the topic ever came up again, he might have at least a hint to what
this story had been about. The meal was at last over, and Vasarius sent
Jimmy off with his daughter and offered Roo a rather decent brandy.

'it's one of the ones you were kind enough to send me," explained the
Quegan noble. Roo thought he'd have to send him something a little
better, against the possibility he was going to be ordered back here
one more time. After they had sipped the brandy, Vasarius asked,
"What's the real reason for your visit?" Roo said, "Well, I do need
additional oil."

"You could have sent me a purchase order, Rupert. You
didn't need to come here personally." Roo looked into his cup. As if
weighing his words, he hesitated; the truth was James had rehearsed him
relentlessly until he was perfect in what he was to say next: Actually,
I need a favor."

"What is it?"

"I'm sure your Empire has agents, or at
least "friends" who pass along certain types of intelligence."

"I would
be insulting you if I claimed otherwise. No nation on Midkemia is
without such resources."

"Then you may have wondered about the buildup of military forces in the
Kingdom."

"It has come to our attention that a great many military
projects are under way." Roo sighed.

"The truth is there are reports
from Kingdom agents in Kesh that) the Emperor is thinking of reclaiming
the Vale of Dreams." Vasarius shrugged. "So what else is new? The
Kingdom and Kesh fight over the Vale like two sisters over a favorite
gown."

"There's a bit more. It looks like Kesh may launch a full
assault toward Krondor, with an eye to cutting off all roads between
Krondor and Land's End." Vasarius said, "If true, that would isolate
Land's End."

"Not to mention cutting off Shamata and Landreth, and
giving the Empire control of Stardock."

"Ah," said Vasarius.

"The
magicians." Roo nodded.

"The Kingdom considers them something of an
unknown factor."

"As well you should," said Vasarius.

"We have our own
magicians, here within the Empire, but all are ~g servants of the
Imperial Court." Roo mentally added the 'or else they're dead' part.

Vasarius continued.

"That many magicians, unsupervised, could prove
troublesome."

"Well, be that as it may, the point is we're going to be
putting men and materiel into Krondor in abundance. We're going to be
shipping troops from Ylith and other parts of Yabon, as well as in from
the Far Coast."

"You still haven't given me any inkling of what this
has to do with me."

"I'm coming to that." Roo cleared his throat
dramatically.

"We need to protect certain critical shipments and, well,
it would benefit us if they were carried on Quegan ships, as the Empire
of Great Kesh is less likely to expect such cargo to be carried on
Quegan galleys."

"Ah," said Vasarius, and fell silent.

"I need a dozen heavily armed war galleys in Carse by the third week
after Banapis."

"A dozen." Vasarius's eyes widened.

"What are you
carrying.

"Weapons and other items." Roo could see the eyes of the man
spinning with greed. Roo knew that Vasarius was assuming it was a huge
shipment of gold, coming down from the Grey Towers, mined
by the dwarves and exchanged for Kingdom goods, to be shipped to
Krondor to pay soldiers. Which was exactly what Duke James wanted him
to think. Roo knew Vasarius would assume twelve war galleys were far
too much security for a weapons shipment. Vasarius said, "Which means
they'd have to leave here three weeks before the Festival of
Midsummer." He calculated. That would put them in the Straits of
Darkness about Midsummer's Day. It would mean you need the gold in
Krondor two months after Midsummer."

"More or less," said Roo,
pretending to ignore Vasarius's reference to the gold.

"A dozen
Imperial galleys will prove costly."

"How costly?" asked Roo. Vasarius
gave him a figure, and Roo haggled halfheartedly in an attempt to look
as if he was trying to beat down the price. Roo knew that the gold
would never be paid to Queg, because Vasarius intended to steal the
shipment, and there wasn't any gold in any event. There would be six
hundred hostile ships showing up about then, however. And Roo knew that
Vasarius wouldn't send twelve galleys, he'd send every one he
controlled, which could amount to two dozen or better if he could
recall them to Queg in time to pass along orders. They talked into the
night, and Roo wished the brandy were better. Absently he wondered how
Jimmy was getting on with Livia.

Jimmy licked the blood on his lip and said, "What?" Livia slapped him
again and then bit him hard on the neck as she said, "Oh, I wish you
barbarians spoke a civilized tongue!" The girl sat astride Jh=y, with
her toga pulled down around her waist. Jimmy was drunk on drugged wine
and trying to keep his wits, but the combination of narcotics, alcohol,
and a young, healthy, half-naked woman attempting to have sex with him
was making it difficult for him to keep his focus. It was all he could
do to pretend he didn't understand her language. At some point Jimmy
got the impression that Livia was furious with him for not having tried
to make love to her on their last visit. He was certain that was more
for the lost opportunity of rejecting him than for any lust for him,
but given how temperamental this Quegan lady was, Jimmy couldn't be
sure. At the present it was clear that she was trying to prove a
different point to him, one which seemed to involve a lot of slapping,
some biting, and a lot of promises that he would never be able to make
love to another woman after having Livia. In a semi-comatose state,
Jimmy fervently hoped the last was not true. Though the way she was
jumping up and down on him made him think there might be enough
permanent damage to prevent him from being interested in testing the
claim for some time to come. He said, "Enough." and tried to sit up,
which got him another ringing slap across the face. As tears came to
his eyes, Livia started tearing his clothing off. Somewhere along the
way he remembered getting serious scratches on his back and buttocks,
and at another point someone a servant he thought threw a bucket of
very hot water on them, followed by one which was very cold. Then
Livia was doing interesting things with a feather and a jelly made from
gooseberries. Finally, as they lay exhausted in each other's arms,
she

I97

mumbled something about never having known anyone like him. Jimmy
never considered himself a lady's man, for although he loved women and
their company, having a grandmother who read minds taught a young man
things about women few men even imagined. For years, every time he
glanced at a comely wench with a lustful intent, his grandmother would
drag him off for a lecture on his attitude toward women. It took a
while, but he finally came to look
upon women as friends and enemies, just like men, except when he was
sleeping with them, when they were decidedly unlike men, for which he
was eternally grateful. This one was something outside his experience,
however, and he wasn't sure he welcomed any repeat of the experience.

Knowing he'd been drugged, he had practiced some of the mental
techniques taught him by his grandmother, and when the girl had started
her questioning, he had started telling lies. By now Jimmy was certain
that when she and her father compared notes, the plan conceived by
Jimmy's grandfather would swing into motion. He tried not to laugh,
for every part of him hurt too much to move. As he let sleep overtake
him, he wondered how Dash was doing.

"Ah, you're a lying sack of dung, and a Kingdom dog to boot, and that's
a fact." The sailor looked at Dash with a challenge. Dash stood up,
dramatically swaying far more than was due to anything he had drunk.

He had years before mastered the art of appearing to drink more than he
had, and he could pass himself off as a drunk as well as any actor. The
trick was to get a tiny bit of pepper or ale on your finger, rub your
eyes, and get them red. His grandfather had taught him that trick.

"No one calls me a liar!" He glared at the Quegan sailor.

"I told you
I saw it! With me own eyes." He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial
whisper. And I can tell you when and where, too."

"When and where what?" asked another of the card players. Dash had
returned to the dockside tavern he had visited on their last voyage to
Queg where he had established his identity as a Kingdom sailor with a
night off and had entered a friendly me of Pashawa. After winning a
little and losing a little, he had started to win, just enough to keep
people paying attention to him. Finally a couple of local card sharks
had shown up and asked to join the game. As he expected, Dash was
offered round after round of drink, in the hope his card sense would be
dulled. He accommodated them, and lost enough money to keep them
around, then won back enough to keep them interested. While he played,
he talked.

"Like I told you: my father sailed with Prince Nicholas and
Amos Trask himself! He was the first to reach the land across the
Endless Sea."

"There is no such place," scoffed a Quegan sailor.

"How
would you know?" retorted Dash.

"You're a bunch of coast huggers. Not
a deep-water sailor in this entire nation." That got him the undivided
attention of every man in the inn- Several were ready to teach him
manners should he start insulting their homeland. Dash started talking
to his captive audience.

"It's true! For almost twenty years the
Prince of Krondor has had men down there tradin' with the natives.

They're a simple people, who worship the sun, and even their children
wear gold trinkets and play with toys fashioned from gold. The Prince
has them mining gold for glass beads. I've seen the gold. With me own
eyes. It's the largest cargo in the world, enough gold to fill this
room. More! As tall as two men, one upon the other's shoulders, it
was. And at the base, it filled a room twice the size of this inn."

"There isn't that much gold in the world," said the man

I99

who had named himself Gracus. He was a skilled gambler, and Dash
suspected a confidence man, a thief, and a potential murderer. But for
Dash's purpose he possessed the signal, ingredient of nature: he was
greedy to a fare-thee- well.

"Look, I tell you this: when Mr. Avery's
ship leaves here,

and after we take him back to Krondor, we're going out with every ship
of the fleet, beyond the Straits of Darkness. Why?" The men muttered as
several asked why.

"Because the biggest fleet of treasure ships in the
history of the world is headin' this way, even as we sit here gabbin',
and it's going to come through the Straits on Banapis."

"Midsummer's
Day?" asked Gracus.

"Think on it," said Dash.

"Where will your galleys
be? Where will all those Keshian pirates from Durbin be?" one of the
sailors said, "He's got a point, Gracus. Our ships will be in port so
the crews can celebrate. Even the galley slaves get a drink of wine
that day."

"And it's true in Durbin," said another.

"I've sailed into
that port on Midsummer's Day, and if there's a crewman sober by
sundown, he's not trying." Gracus said, "That may be all well and good,
but it's still a little difficult to believe." Dash glanced around the
room, as if looking to see he wasn't being watched, which was difficult
to do with a straight face when every man in the room was watching him
closely. He reached into his shirt and pulled out a small purse. He
opened it up and let the contents fall on the table. A tiny whistle and
a small top fell with a clatter, and Gracus picked up the whistle.

"Gold," he whispered.

"I traded a copper piece to a little boy for that
whistle," said Dash.

"And he was glad to have it. He'd never seen
copper before, but gold was everywhere." The top and whistle had been
fashioned from some of

the King's currency, melted and reforged, and James had sent back the
items twice because the goldsmith couldn't get it through his head that
the Duke wanted them to look crudely fashioned. Dash took the whistle
away from Gracus.

"This boy gave me a voyage's pay in gold for a
copper piece.

"I've seen other men come back from there with enough
gold in their kit to retire for life to a gentleman's farm *m the
country, that's the truth." He glanced around the room.

"If any of you
lads have visited the Anchor and Dolphin in Krondor, Dawson who runs
it, why he got the gold to open that inn by trading his clothes to the
natives. Came back smelling like a skunk, 'cause he didn't have a
change of clothing for three months, but he came back rich." Dash could
see he had them, and he knew that whatever doubt might linger in the
minds of some of these men would be far outweighed by the desire to
believe in others. By the time Banapis arrived, every Quegan pirate
crew able to sail would be waiting at the Straits of Darkness. Putting
away his trinkets, Dash decided he'd better lose enough to have to give
those trinkets away to the winner of the pot, for the story would be
more convincing with physical evidence. Additionally, he thought, as
he glanced around the room at a gallery of naked greed, if he was broke
he stood a far better chance of getting back to his ship alive.

Pug said, "Are you ready?" Macros and Miranda nodded, and held hands.

Nakor said good-bye to Sho Pi and gripped Macros and Pug's hands, one
in each of his own. Pug and Miranda joined hands and the circle was
closed. Pug in canted and suddenly they were standing in a courtyard,
high up in the mountains somewhere. A startled monk dropped a bucket
of water he was carrying and stood
open-mouthed and wide-eyed. Pug looked at him and said, "We need to
see the Abbot." The monk could not bring himself to speak, only nodding
and running off. They waited while several monks poked their heads
through windows to get a look at the intruders.

Macros said, "I suspect you know what you're doing?"

"Cooperation
between magicians and clerics is rare, but it has happened in the
past," said Pug. They stood in the courtyard of the Abbey of Ishap at
sar th in the mountains north of Krondor. Pug had visited there
occasionally, after having made the acquaintance of the present Abbot,
who had been a simple priest then. A moment later a grey-haired man
about Pug's height, and looking to be in his late seventies, moved
briskly toward them. At his side a younger cleric, carrying a war
hammer and bearing a shield upon his arm, approached. When the man got
close enough to recognize Pug he called him by name.

"Hello, Dominic.

It's been a very long time." The Abbot of Sarth nodded.

"Nearly thirty
years, I believe." Glancing at Pug's three companions, he said, "I
expect this isn't a social visit." He turned to his companion.

"Put
away your weapons, Brother Michael. There is no threat." As the
warrior priest walked away, Dominic said, "You've really injured his
pride, Pug. You went through his protective wards as if they weren't
there." Pug smiled.

"They weren't. Tell him to put some below the
libraries in the mountain. We came through the floor." Dominic smiled.

"I'll tell him. Would you care to join me for some refreshments and
tell me what this is all about?" Macros said, "We need your knowledge,
Abbot. And we may not speak safely here." The Abbot said, "And you are ?"

Pug said, "Dominick, this is Macros the Black." If Dominic was
impressed by the name, he did not show it.

"Your reputation precedes
you."

"I am Nakor, and this is Miranda." Dominic bowed to the two of
them.

"This abbey may be the safest place on Midkemia if we get
those wards established under the library," he said with a slight
smile. Pug said, "For what we need to discuss, there is no safe place
on Midkemia."

"Do you propose to take me to another world, as you did
so many years ago?"

"Exactly," said Pug.

"Only this time you won't be
tortured."

"That's a relief." He studied Pug.

"You haven't changed,
but I have. I'm an old man, and I need a persuasive reason to leave
this world at my age." Pug considered his reply.

"We need to talk
about your most precious secret." Instantly Dominic's eyes narrowed.

"If you're fishing for something. I will not break my oath, so tell me
what you know." Macros said, "We know the truth of the Seven-Pointed
Star, and the Cross within it. We know the fifth star is dead, as is
the sixth." Lowering his voice, he said, "And the seventh star is not
dead." Dominic remained motionless for an instant, then turned to a
nearby monk.

"I will be going with these people. Tell Brother Gregory
he is in charge as long as I'm absent. Tell him also to send the sealed
chest in my study to the High Father at our temple in Rillanon." The
monk bowed his head and hurried off to carry out the Abbot's wishes.

"Let us leave," said Dominic, and they formed a circle. Pug said,
"Macros, I have the power, but not the knowledge." Macros said, "I have
both. Follow me."

Suddenly they were gone, and around them a void could be sensed, rather
than felt or seen. Miranda's thoughts came to Pug.

"When I first
entered the Hall of Worlds I asked Boldar Blood what happens when you
step into the void." Pug's thoughts returned out of the featureless
grey.

"This is the void between realities. Here nothing exists."

"There is something," came the thoughts of Macros.

"There is no place in the universe without something residing within.

it may not be apparent to those who pass through, but there are
creatures that live within the void."

"Fascinating," came Nakor's
thoughts, and the word was tinged with excitement. Suddenly they were
in a star-filled night of pure black. encapsuled in a bubble of air,
warmth. and gravity. Below them. swimming through the void, was a
place Pug had never thought to visit again.

"The City Forever," he
said.

"What alien beauty," said Nakor. Pug glanced at the Isalani and
saw his eyes wide with wonder.

"It is that," said Pug. The city spread
out below in a twisted symmetry, one that sought to capture the eye,
but somehow eluded it. Towers and minarets that looked too slender to
support their own weight rose up against the vault of the City's
self-contained sky. Arches that could have soared above Krondor's
highest rooftop spanned the vast distance between buildings of alien
design. Downward they sped, yet they felt no sense of movement, save
what they saw with their eyes.

"Who built this place?" asked "Miranda.

"No one," said Macros.

"At least. no one within this reality."

"What
do you mean, Father?" Macros shrugged.

"This place was here when our
universe came into being. Pug, Tomas, and I witnessed the

birth of what we know as our reality. This place was already here."

"An artifact of an earlier reality?" suggested Nakor.

"Perhaps," said
Macros.

"Or something that simply is because it needs to be." Dominic
had renipmed silent but now asked, "Why this strange and
incomprehensible place, Pug?" Pug said, "Because it is perhaps the only
place we may speak freely and not fall prey to the agency behind all
the woe and destruction unleashed upon our world." They moved over a
vast square, many times the size of the city of Krondor, where
city-size tiles changed color in a hypnotic pattern. As they
approached the surface of the street, they saw the pattern echoed in
streets that left the enormous square. Miranda said, "It's a city. It
has buildings, what look to be houses, and yet it is devoid of life."

"Don't make that assumption, DaughterMacros pointed.

"That fountain may
be a decorative creation, or it may be a life form so alien to our
understanding that we will never communicate with it."

"What if the
city is the life form?" asked Nakor.

"Possible." Dominic said, "Why
would the gods create such a place?"

"Depends on which gods we're
talking about," said Macros. The orb settled across a gulf of the void,
onto a lush green lawn surrounded by trees and plants, all beautifully
tended. Then the orb vanished.

"This may be the most remote corner of
reality," said Macros.

"The Garden." Pug said, "Now we may speak, but
first there is something I must do."

"What?" said Miranda. But Pug had
already closed his eyes and was mumbling an incantation. Everyone
present felt a fey energy gather
around Pug, then suddenly it was gone and he opened his eyes.

"Miranda's eyes narrowed.

"This is a powerful spell of blocking. Why
do we need protection from eavesdropping in this remote corner of
reality?"

"All will be made clear," Pug answered. He looked at the

Abbot.

"It is time," Pug said to Dominic.

"What would you know?" asked
the Abbot of Sarth.

"The truth," said Pug.

"Ishap is dead." Dominic
nodded.

"Since the time of the Chaos Wars." Miranda said, "Ishap, the
One Above All? The Greatest of All the Gods is dead?" Pug said, "I'll
explain. Nearly forty years ago, an agency of some unknown origin
sought to destroy an artifact of the Ishapians, a magical gem known as
the Tear of the Gods." Dominic nodded.

"This is not widely known.

Only Prince m a, a few of his trusted advisers, and Pug knew of the
t~hef . "To understand the importance of that attempt, you must know
something of. the nature of the gods and their role in Midkemian
life." Macros said, "Dominic, explain to Miranda and Nakor." Dominic
spied a bench nearby and said, "I'll sit, if you don't mind." They
followed him there. The old Abbot sat, Nakor and Miranda sat at his
feet, and Plug and Macros remained standing. Dominic said, "At the
time of the Chaos Wars, a new order came into existence on Midkemia.

Before the Chaos Wars, a primal force of creation and one of
destruction ruled hand in glove; these forces were worshiped by the
Valheru as Rathar and Mythar, She Who Is Order, and He Who Is Chaos,
the Two Blind Gods of the Beginning.

"But with their raiding across the
heavens, the Valheru were an unintentional agent of change. For each
realm

they visited, each realm they connected with the one of their birth,
they created ripples in the time stream and changes in how the universe
was ordered.

"The Chaos Wars were an upheaval on a cosmic scale, as the
universes sought to reorder themselves in a fashion more finely drawn I
more clearly delineated than before, and as a result, the gods arose."

Dominic looked from face to face.

"Each world in the cosmos, each
planet and star in the multitude of universes shares a common property,
energies existing on a multitude of levels. Many of these worlds gave
form to those energies as consciousness, while others formed what we
call magic. Some have no life as we think of it, while others are
teeming. In the end, each world sought out its own level." Nakor
seemed riveted by this.

"But they are all connected, right?" Dominic
said, "Ultimately, they are, and therein lies the heart of this matter.

"When the gods came into existence they ordered themselves in ways we
can only guess at; but as time passed they took on properties that
clearly revealed their natures. For the most part, they were organic
things, if energy or mind can be called organic, that is to say,
without consciousness as we think of it." Macros nodded.

"I know that
for certain." Dominic continued.

"Seven beings existed, who had
ultimate responsibility for the ordering of Midkemia. They were given
names by mankind, though what they think of themselves is beyond our
ability to know. They were Abrem-Sev, the Forger of Actions; Ev-Dem,
the Worker from Within; Graff, the Weaver of Wishes; and Helbinor, the
Abstainer.

"These are the four remaining Greater Gods," said Dominic, '
those who survived the Chaos Wars when the Lesser Gods rose and the
Valheru last flew Midkemia's sky."

,"^at caused the Chaos Wars?" asked Nakor.

"Why did the Lesser Gods
rebel against the Greater Gods?"

"No one knows," said Dominic.

"Mankind was young on this world, having fled to Midkemia from other
worlds as the Valheru raged across the multi verse "The Mad God," said
Macros. Nakor said, "Who is he?"

"The Unnamed," supplied Pug.

"And the reason we're here." Miranda
said, "You said seven greater beings existed, yet you named only four."

Dominic nodded.

"Originally, there were seven. Besides the four we
call the Builders, there were three others. Arch-Indar, the Selfless,
the Goddess of Good, was she who drove every creative and positive
impulse on our world. We think she sacrificed herself to ultimately
banish the Unnamed from Midkemia." Miranda said, "So who is Ishap?"

"He
was the most powerful of all the Greater Gods," said Dominic.

"He was
the Balancer, the Matrix, the one whose ultimate task was to keep the
other gods in their places."

"Who is this seventh god," asked Miranda,
'this Unnamed?" Pug said, "Nalar." There was a momentary silence and
Pug said, "That's a relief."

"What's a relief ?" asked Miranda. Dominic
said, "Nalar is unnamed, for even to say his name is to risk becoming
his tool. He has been cast out by the other four Greater Gods, to keep
something of a balance, while we labor to return Ishap to life."

"Miranda said, "So you're praying every day, trying to return the
Greatest of All the Gods to life?"

"Yes." Miranda said, "Have you
anticipated how much longer you need to do this?"

"Centuries," said Macros.

"Millennia. even. our lives are but
passing moments in the age of the universe." Dominic said, "This is so.

This is why those who worship Ishap are the self-appointed keepers of
Knowledge. Wodar-Hospur, the God of Knowledge, also died in the Chaos
Wars, and "knowledge serves us in attempting to return the order of the
universe to what it needs be." Miranda said, "This is incredible." Pug
said, "I know. It means that what I've been living through the
Riftwar, the Great Uprising, this constant attacking by the
Pantathians. all of which is apparently some plot by the trapped
Valheru to gain their freedom all of it is simply a ruse.o "By Nalar?"

said Miranda.

"What would he gain by the destruction of the world?"

said Nakor. Dominic said, "You do not understand the nature of the
gods. No man does. It is his nature to do that which man calls
"evil." He is an agent of destruction much as ArchIndar was an agent
of creation. To destroy, tear down, and render all life to a basic
form is as much a part of his nature as it was of Mythar, the ancient
God of Chaos. But it is more, for while Mythar was mindless, Nalar has
a mind, a consciousness. More to the point, a selfconsciousness.

"While the other Controller Gods were alive, all was in balance. And
his tendencies to destroy and cause evil were kept in check by a mind
aware of its own purpose, and by the forces of Ishap and Arch-Indar,
supported by the other four. the Builders.

"But during the Chaos Wars,
Nalar went mad." Pug said, "Another name for the Chaos Wars is the Time
of the Mad God's Rage."

"Or perhaps," said Nakor, 'it was his madness
that caused the Chaos Wars."

"We'll never know," said Dominic.

Glancing around the circle of faces, he said, "Even so powerful a
company as this is trivial compared to the might we're discussing."

"We
are candles to their stars," said Macros. f'But a lifeless world is no
problem for a god who cidsts for eons," said Dominic.

"Life is
persistent, and eventually it would return to Midkemia, either arising
in the lifeless soil and water of its own accord, or brought there from
other worlds, and as it waited, the dead world of Midkemia would
provide Nalar with an opportunity to escape his
prison, for the other gods would be weakened. The Lesser Gods would
probably die with the planet they are agents who work between living
beings and the Greater Gods and the Greater Gods would be greatly
reduced in strength."

"Why didn't the other gods simply destroy Nalar?"

asked Miranda.

"They couldn't," said Dominic.

"He was too powerful."

Miranda sat back on her heels.

"Too powerful?"

"Yes," answered
Dominic.

"The en tropic nature of destruction, the forces used by
Nalar, are the most powerful in the universe. Without Arch-Indar and
Ishap, the Builders could not destroy him. They could shut him away.

He is entombed under a mountain as large as the world of Midkemia, upon
a planet the size of our sun, 'm a universe as distant from our own as
can be imagined, yet he is still powerful enough to reach out and
influence the minds of his servants." Pug spoke.

"Those who serve him
often have no idea on whose behalf they labor. They have need to do
things, but no reason." Dominic said, "The other gods gave to my order
the Tear of the Gods. It is why we have any power at all. All
clerical magic is prayers answered, but with Ishap dead, we have no one
to answer our prayers."

"So every one hundred years, this mystic gem is
born, in a cave high in the mountains," said Pug, 'and it

is transported to Rillanon, where it is placed in the inner sanctum of
the Temple of Ishap." Dominic said, "It is there so we may speak to the
other gods, and so we may work magic and do good works, and cause men
to come to the worship of Ishap so that someday he will return to us
and restore the balance."

"But until then," said Macros, 'we have a
problem." Miranda said, "That's one way of putting it. Let me try
another: the Valheru, the demons, the wars and destruction, all are
tiny diversionary tactics by a Mad God who is so powerful that the
other Greater Gods and Lesser Gods combined can't destroy him so it's
up to us to face him?" Macros said, "Something like that." Miranda
could only sit in stunned silence.

TEN

Dedication

Miranda yawned. After the initial shock of the enormity of the task
before them wore off, boredom set in. Macros, Pug, and Dominic had
resolved not to leave the Garden of the City Forever until a plan of
some sort had been worked out. They had spoken for hours, or at least
Miranda had gotten hungry a couple of times, and had napped once. The
only person who had seemed completely enthralled by the experience was
Nakor. The little man was sitting on a bench and seemed lost in thought
when Miranda approached him with an armful of pears.

"Want one?" she
asked. He grinned as he nodded and took one.

"My orange trick still
works, if you want one of those."

"Thanks, maybe later." Then she said,
"But how does it still work?"

"I don't know," he said with a perplexed
smile.

"Maybe the stuff I'm moving around doesn't care where I am."

"But we're nowhere."

"No," Nakor disagreed.

"We're somewhere, we just
don't have any idea of where."

"Or a frame of reference," she added.

"Yes, you do understand."

"You seem impossibly cheerful for someone who
has just been told he's got to go fight a god." Nakor shook his head as
pear juice ran down his chin.

"No, not yet. And I don't think ever, maybe. We need to

2I2

find a way to defeat his plans, not him. If four Greater Gods can't
destroy this one, then who are we? Besides, the plan is already in
place, we just have to realize what it is."

"I'm not sure I
understand." He stood up and) said "Come along, I'll explain." He led
her to where Pug, Macros, and Dominic sat, under a large tree of alien
foliage, and said, "How are you doing?" Pug said, "We've restated the
problem many times, but we seem without a hint of what to do next."

"That'seasy," said Nakor. Macros's eyebrows raised.

"Oh, really? Care
to share this insight with us?" Nakor nodded and in a single motion sat
cross-legged on the ground.

"We have to fix what's broken." Dominic
said, "That is what the Order of Ishap has been doing."

"I know," said
Nakor.

"I mean all of it. Look, you've got to take some time to bring
back the dead god. That's not an easy thing to do." The old Abbot's
eyes narrowed.

"Thank you for understanding," he said dryly.

"But
there's a lot of mischief that's gone on since this all began, that we
need to do something about now!" said Nakor.

"Such as?" asked Pug.

"Well, one thing," answered Nakor, 'we have those demons. We can't
have them running around. They cause much too much trouble. Even the
little ones can be very dangerous."

"I remember when Murmandamus's
magicians gated in some flying demons years ago, before the Great
Uprising was crushed. That should have alerted me that something was
amiss. I mistook it for a common spell of summoning," admitted Pug.

"We can spend a lifetime in regrets," said Macros, 'if we

2I3

let ourselves." He looked at his daughter, who returned his scrutiny
with a natural expression.

"Yes," said Nakor.

"Regrets are foolish.

Now, your other question. As for putting things right, that's simple.

We defeat the Emerald Queen, get this invading army turned
around and headed home, kill all the Pantathians who are left alive because we can't change their nature and make sure no one gets to the
Lifestone. Oh, and chase all the demons back to their own realm."

"Is
that all?" Miranda said sarcastically, with mock wide-eyed wonder.

Dominic said, "Nakor, you pose very interesting questions, intriguing
solutions, but little advice on how to go about reaching those
solutions."that'seasy," said Nakor.

"We have to go plug up the
hole."

"What hole?" asked Macros.

"The one the demons are coming
through. That could be very nasty in a short while." Pug sighed.

"He's right. The Emerald Queen's army is a catastrophe, but a major
invasion of demons would make it look like a bunch of street roughs
trying to roll a drunk-' "But I think that might wait until we defeat
the Emerald Queen," said Nakor.

"What we've seen of the demons
indicates they haven't fully reached into this realm yet, and while
they're influencing the Emerald Queen, she is the one who is here. For
all we know, once she has the Lifestone, she may use it to bring the
demons into our world."

"What are we missing?" said Miranda.

"What do
you mean?" asked Pug.

"I don't know," she said, concern clearly written
on her face.

"Somewhere in all of this is a missing piece, something
to do with why we're not swooping down on the invasion fleet as it
reaches the deepest part of the ocean and sinking it." There are a
lot of Pantathian priests on those ships,"

said Nakor.

"They may not have Pug's power, or Macros's, or yours, but
together' "Pug could destroy them in seconds," Miranda interrupted.

' I saw what he did in the Celestial City; I'm not a beginner. I've
been studying magic for two centuries, and what he did is so far beyond
my abilities it's staggering." Macros nodded.

"He forced himself into
my mind ... Sarig's mind, and ripped me away like pulling a cork from a
bottle. This was no trivial thing." Pug said, "It's not that simple."

"It is that simple," said Miranda.

"If we don't act, a lot of people
are going to die."

"What if we're wrong?" asked Pug.

"What if we die
in the attempt?"

"Life is risks," answered Macros's daughter, and for a
brief second Pug saw the resemblance between father and daughter.

"If
we perish," said Pug, 'then there is nothing to stop the Emerald Queen
from taking the Lifestone."

"There's Tomas," reminded Miranda. Pug
thought it over for a long time, then said, "First we must make sure
that Tomas knows what we are going to do."

"Agreed," said Macros.

"Send
Nakor and Dominic to Tomas," said Macros.

"No!" said Nakor.

"I want to
see what you're going to do."

"Your curiosity is endless," said Pug,
'but we're going to be facing something awesome by any standards." As
Nakor started to object, Pug raised his hand and cut him off.

"You
claim there is no magic, but you know more about the workings of magic
than just about anyone else in Midkemia, save Macros, Miranda, and me."

Nakor's eyes narrowed.

"I always wanted to ask you about that," he
said.

"You told James to tell me "There is
no magic" a long time ago, to get me to go to Stardock, and I always
wanted to know about that." Pug smiled.

"I'll tell you when this is
all over." Nakor's grin returned.Very well, but we have a few
problems to address before we return."

"Yes," said Dominic.

"No one
may return to Midkemia with the knowledge of Nalar or even a desire to
discover that knowledge intact. While the God of Evil is locked away,
Midkemia is his home, and he will attune his influence to anyone who is
receptive, much as Sarig took

Macros to his service all those years ago."

"Have you the means to
remove the memory of Nalar, Dominic?" asked Pug.

"We can put blocks on
our own minds, not letting the knowledge surface, but it will still be
there." Dominic nodded.

"Among our order it is common to deal with
just this sort of problem, as we cannot let anyone know the secret of
is hap and the other Controller Gods. If you do as I instruct, we will
leave here ignorant of Nalar." He turned to face Macros.

"You trod
perilously close to becoming Nalar's tool, had you not been protected
by the lingering magic of Sarig. Even though the God of Magic gave you
that protection, it will not last."

"I know," said Macros, 'but we had
to understand what we faced."

"Agreed," said Dominic, 'though the High
Father in Rillanon will find it difficult to accept my word."

"Is that
what you did, sending that sealed chest?" asked Miranda. Dominic
nodded.

"Each Abbot at Sarth prepares against the time of great trial,
when we shall see the abbey destroyed. Against that day we are
preparing another place, one that will be called That Which Was Sarth.

The repository eidsts and awaits, and we only waited for the foretold
sign."

"And we were that sign?"

Dominic nodded.

"In our dealings with the Greater Gods, we have come
to understand their limits as well as their power; they communicate to
us in a fashion that can only be called disjointed. One thing above
all else, though, was the event of our first contact, ages ago, when we
were warned that one would come, with companions, who a 0 knew the s4 a
d at that time the world would change. Yes, your arrival is the signal
that we need to begin moving the great library at Sarth to That Which
Was Sarth." Miranda said, "Where are you moving the library to?"

"To a
location, high in the mountains of Yabon, where it will be safe."

"Well, if the Emerald Queen gets her hands on the Lifestone, nothing
will be safe," Pug observed. Miranda said, "Then let us set about
forgetting the reason behind this horror." Dominic indicated they
should sit in a circle and join hands. The old cleric said, "Close
your eyes, and open your minds to me. When we have finished you will
know nothing of Nalar. You will only know that you have forgotten
something, but rather than be curious, you will be relieved. You will
know that it is vital that you not remember this thing, for to do so
would bring danger beyond any you imagine. You will remember enough of
what we have talked about to be aware of your chosen course of action,
but of Nalar, the only thing you will recall is that out there,
somewhere, a grave danger lurks, one against which you must remain
vigilant, but one which you must never seek to know." Dominic began his
incantation and all of them felt a strange presence enter their minds,
which began to order knowledge. For a brief instant each felt a mild
discomfort, and a flash of fear, which was instantly replaced by a calm
reassurance, and then, suddenly, it was done. Pug blinked and said,
"It's over?"

Dominic said, "Yes. You remember what you need to remember, and the
rest is safely locked away. It must be so. They took what he said at
face value.

"We must go now," Dominic said.

"First I will take you and
Nakor to Elvandar," said Pug.

I He glanced at Miranda and her father.

"Then we go to face the
Emerald Queen."

Tomas awaited in the glade where Tathar and Acaila had overseen their
protection. He stood resplendent in his armor of white and gold.

Behind him waited the warriors of Elvandar, Calin and Redtree at their
head.

"It is time?" asked Tomas as soon as they materialized.

"Not
yet," said Pug, 'but soon. Get word to Stone Mountain and the Grey
Towers. Call the dwarves to war. You know where to lead them when
they gather." Tomas nodded, and started issuing instructions to elven
runners nearby. Pug had alerted him of their coming, using a mental
call agreed upon by the two boyhood friends years before. Nakor and
Dominic moved away from the three magicians, and Pug came up to Tomas.

"We go to challenge the Emerald Queen before she reaches our shore.

Should we fail the war will come to you eventually. You know the
stakes. You must convince Dolgan and Halfdan down in Dorgin to come to
the Kingdom's aid." Tomas nodded.

"Dolgan will come. He and I have
too much between us for him to ignore my call. Halfdan will come
because Dolgan comes." He smiled and for a moment Pug saw his boyhood
friend again, behind the mask of the alien warrior.

"The dwarves of
Dorgin never forgave Dolgan for not inviting them to the last war." Pug
looked around the glade, as if drinking in the calm beauty, imprinting
it on his memory. It wasearly evening here in Elvandar, so it would be
morning where the invading fleet would be found.

Pug gripped Tomas's hand and said, "Good-bye, my friend." Tomas
squeezed lightly.

"Be well. I will see you when we celebrate this
victory." Pug only nodded. He turned and came to where Macros and
Miranda waited, reached out and took their hands. Suddenly they were
gone. Nakor said, "We have much to do, and less time to do it in than
we might wish for." Tomas nodded.

"I fear you are correct." Dominic
said, "I need to reach our abbey in the Grey Towers. From there our
brothers can transport me to anyplace in the Kingdom where we have an
abbey or temple." Tomas motioned to an elf.

"Galain, see to horses for
the morning." To Nakor and Dominic he said, "You will dine and rest,
and leave in the morning." Nakor said, "No, Sho Pi and I will stay
here. I think we will be needed here, soon." Nakor was without his
ever-present grin, and Dominic said, "You're fearful?"

"Yes," said the
little man.

"I know why Pug does this thing, and it is unwise, I
think. He does it as much to prove his love for Miranda as to defeat
the enemy, and while I believe she is right in assessing his power, I
think she underestimates the power of the Emerald Queen and the
Pantathians." Then he added in a low voice to Dominic, "And vastly
underestimates the third player." Dominic's eyes widened and he pulled
Nakor aside as the elves walked on.

"What do you remember?"

"All of
it," said Nakor. Something strange burned in the little man's eyes.

"I have my own ways of protecting my mind, Abbot, just as you do.

Those three magicians like to think they know a lot about the many
paths of magic, but they still think too much along one path. You and
I know there are many paths, many ways to proceed. Or no paths,

if you look at it another way. You have no need to worry about my
falling under the Nameless One's influence."

"Who are you?" asked
Dominic. A grin spread across Nakor's face.

"Just a gambler who knows
some tricks." Dominic said, "If you weren't clearly working for our
cause, I would fear you, I think." Nakor shrugged.

"Those who aren't
my friends do well
to fear me, for as I said, I know a few tricks." With that enigmatic
pronouncement, Nakor walked after the elves, leaving a very shaken old
Abbot with much to ponder.

"What next?" said Miranda. Macros pointed downward.

"There," The three
magicians hovered high above the clouds as hundreds of miles of
shimmering water spread out below. Pug turned his eyes to the point
Macros indicated and saw the fleet of the Emerald Queen.

"It's huge,"
said Miranda.

"More than six hundred ships," said Macros.

"Close to
seven hundred."

"They must have been building somewhere we didn't know
about," offered Pug. He, like Miranda, had stayed abreast of the
intelligence coming from Calis's agents in Novindus.

"We need a plan,"
said Miranda. Pug said, "Here's the plan: I will swoop down to confront
the Emerald Queen and her Pantathian servants. When they spring
whatever trap they have waiting for me, you two come in and catch them
by surprise." Macros said, "No, I'll come in. Alone." As Miranda
started to object, Macros said, "Your job is to get us out of there if
this doesn't work." She considered a moment, and while the wind sent
her hair streaming out behind her, Pug thought he had never
seen her looking more beautiful.

"Very well," she said. Pug quickly
kissed her and said, "Place a spell of recall upon us all." Miranda
said, Where do we travel if we have to leave
in a hurry?" e question.

"Elvandarf' he Pug had already
conquered the said.

"The elves have the best healers in the world, and
we may need them. They also have the best magic wards if
something tries to follow us." She nodded.

"Telling you to be careful
would be the height of foolishness." She kissed her father's cheek.

"Be careful." Then she kissed Pug passionately.

"Stay alive. Pug and
Macros lowered toward the fleet and Macros to be a father-in-law?"

said, "Am I going Pug said, "If we somehow live through this." Macros
said, "Then I'll see you do."

"I'm counting on it," said Pug, and
Macros laughed.

"What do you propose to do?" he asked.

"I think a
direct approach is best." Pug considered a moment.

"I'm certain they
expect me to come at them sometime between now and when they reach the
Straits."

"They might expect you at the Straits."

"That is too late.

If I fail, there is no time to regroup, but if I come now ... f "What
should I do?"

"Be ready to provide me with a distraction. They have no
knowledge you're back." Then he muttered, "At least, I hope they
don't." He spoke up: "If I get into trouble, do
something to give me a chance to escape, but don't put yourself at
risk; rely on Miranda to get us both out."

"I'll do what I must,f said
Macros.

"Then let us begin." said I>ug. He faded from Macros's sight,
and the sorcerer knew he was attempting to get as close as possible to
the ship upon which the Emerald Queen rode before revealing himself.

I(Ak,r Ur ^

Macros let his own enhanced senses reach out and locate Pug, following
him as he approached the fleet. down over the vanguard of the flotilla.

A Pug swooped full score of warships formed a V at the head of the
fleet. on either flank another twenty ships guarded the bulk of the
armada. At the rear came a squadron of faster warships, tacking back
and forth, ready to race forward and give support on either side if the
need arose. pug saw the Emerald Queen's ship, dead center of a huge
duster of transport ships. Pug used his magic vision, attempting to
locate his quarry. As if watching through a crystal, he saw her with
the lens of his magic perception: she rested upon a throne, set
amidships, upon a wallowing galley rowed by three banks of oars.

Surrounding her were an honor guard of some of the most evil-looking
creatures Pug had ever spied. Each exuded a miasma of foulness like a
cloud of smoke, trailing along behind him. Two men stood on either side
of the Queen. To her right was a human, whom Pug took to be General
Fadawah. There was nothing soft in his features or demeanor. He looked
as if carved from unyielding stone. His head was shaved, save for a
single topknot of hair gathered together and allowed to fall down his
back. His face was scarred, and Pug recognized the marks; they had
been described to him by those who had faced the moredhel outlaw
chieftain Murad, when Prince Arutha had quested after the Silverthorn
plant that he needed to save his betrothed's life. At the Queen's other
hand a robed figure stood, a Pantathian to outward appearance. Pug
could detect no features beneath the creature's hood. Pug gently sent
energies down to the ship, attempting to detect any countermeasures.

There was a flow of communication between the ship and other agents,
near and far away. And there were detection spells, which he easily
avoided. That made him suspicious and he sought to investigate

behind those spells. As he suspected, there was a second array of
wards, cleverly masked by the clumsy detection spells, and he had been
close to activating them. He studied his enemy's defenses and made
ready his attack. Pug gathered his energies, determined to blast this
ship from existence. He would deal with the other ships and the
serpent priests who rode them after disposing of the Queen. As energy
gathered around him, Pug sensed probing energies of an alien nature,
from an unknown source. Suddenly those on the ship below were running
and pointing. A handful of robed figures appeared upon the decks and
began in canting wards of protection. But they were too late, as Pug
unleashed a tremendous blast of mystic energy, enough to ignite the
entire ship in a funeral pyre. A crimson ball of fire exploded from
his fingertips, hurling like a comet of death at the Emerald Queen's
ship. The explosion was deafening and blinding, and as it ignited, Pug
suddenly sensed his mistake.

"Flee!" he sent to Macros and Miranda.

"It's a trap!" The bolt of energy encountered a counter spell one woven
into the very fabric of the ship itself. Weeks of execution had been
involved in this, the most subtle thing the Pantathians had undertaken
since Pug's first encounter with them years before. The cloth in the
sails, the tar in the deck, the nails in the hull, and the wood of the
spars all had been imbued with this counter magic And the wards of
detection and the in canting of the Pantathian priests had been nothing
more than masks to hide the tell-tale traces of this subtle magic.

Pug's defenses were hardly in place when his own magic was turned back
upon him. The fireball ran back up its previous course, seeking its
source. Furious energies exploded around him, blinding and deafening
him, rendering him near-senseless. Reflexes took over, and he
attempted to put distance between himself and the ship.

Red flames consumed Pug, and only his own incredible power and instinct
kept him from being incinerated in an instant. Then those upon the ship
unleashed their own attacks, and Pug suffered. A presence manifested
itself to Pug as he struggled to avoid the next wave of pain.

"Puny
mage! Do you think we were unaware of your pitiful scheming? You are
but a pawn in a game so much more vast than any you can
imagine. Now die!" At that instant, Pug saw the face of his true
enemy. Where the Emerald Queen had sat, the illusion was pierced. A
demon crouched upon the golden throne under the canopy athwart the
galley. Mystic chains went from his taloned hand to magic collars
around the necks of the Pantathian and General Fadawah. They were
clearly under the demon's control and both looked upward helplessly.

"I
am Jakan, and I shall rule here!" Agony raced through every fiber of
Pug's being as his protective wards were stripped away from him. The
robes on his body burst into flames and his hair and skin began to
burn. A scream erupted from lungs scorched and blistered and his eyes
shriveled in his head. He struggled to escape, but the pain was
overwhelming, and he lost all control. His mind fled from the pain,
and as he felt darkness closing around him, he also felt himself
tumbling through the air. Then a pair of arms grabbed him, and a groan
of agony came from Pug as he was carried aloft, every movement an agony
for him. Macros sent word to Miranda: "Get us out of here now!" Even
the chilled air burned his flaming skin as Pug lapsed into darkness.

"Will he bye?" asked Miranda, fear etched into her features.

"I don't
know," answered Tathar.

Dominic and Nathan looked on in horror at the thing that had been Pug.

His body was smoking and charred, and in several places white bone
showed through. Acaila said, "It's a miracle he lives still." Nakor
pushed through and said, "Life is strong in this man. it holds
strongly here. We must help it." Nakor put his hands above his head a
moment, then in canted He placed his hands upon Pug's chest, over his
heart, and said, "I need whatever strength you can spare." Instantly
the Spellweavers of Elvandar began to spin their magic. Dominic lent
his skills, using a spell of healing, the most powerful he knew. Nakor
felt the energy course through him, down his arms and into Pug's chest.

Faintly, under the palm of Nakor's right hand, he could feel the
fluttering beat of Pug's heart. Slowly it strengthened, as if drinking
the energy from Nakor and the others like a dry sponge *m water. Nakor
felt himself tingle with the flow, but he focused, and attempted to see
the energy sites in Pug's body.

"One of you, put hands over his head,"
he said. Acaila did as he was bid, and Nakor closed his eyes a moment.

In the elven glade more and more came to witness the healing. Tomas
strode into the ring of watchers, who stepped aside to let him approach
his friend. Nakor opened his eyes and said, "Good. Put your hands
over his throat. He burned his lungs, and I need help." Nakor closed
his eyes and directed the energies flowing into Pug. Time passed and
night gave way to day, and still they labored, kneeling for hours
letting the healing energies of their own bodies as well as the ancient
magic of Elvandar flow into the injured magician. Near noon, Nakor
faltered and found familiar hands gripping his arm.

"Master?" came Sho
Pi's enquiry.

I'll be fine," said Nakor.

"I just need rest."

"I'll take over," said
Nakor's student, and he stepped into the position his master had
occupied, placing his hands upon Pug's chest. Miranda came over, and
from her drawn expression and
red eyes, Nakor could see she had been weeping.

"Will he live?" Nakor
said, "I don't know. A lesser man would have died instantly. Most
greater men would be dead now, but there's something in him that hangs
on." He looked at the man lying on the floor of the glade, upon the
grass, and said, "He looks very small and vulnerable now, doesn't he?"

"Yes," said Miranda, her voice heavy with emotion. Nakor sighed. It
was obvious he was exhausted from his efforts.

"The longer he hangs
on, the better his chances that he will survive. We are all channeling
healing energies to him, and as long as he has a will to live, he
continues to live. I told Nicholas once that in some men life is weak
and in others it is strong. For one such as myself, your father, or
yourself, it must be strong for us to abide all the years we continue
to exist, but for Pug it's something more." Trying to be reassuring, he
added, "I think he will five." Miranda looked into Nakor's eyes.

"You
don't think that, do you?" Nakor tried to force a grin, but it failed.

"No, I don't. We do all we can, but he is injured far beyond what I've
seen any man endure." His eyes revealed a hint of deep regret, then he
forced back that doubt and assumed his usual cheerful mantle.

"But
what do I know? I'm just a gambler who has some tricks, and Tathar
and the other Spellweavers are working vigorously." He patted her hand
in a fatherly fashion.

"He will be all right, I'm sure." She looked
into Nakor's face and saw the words were

empty, but she appreciated the gesture and nodded, walking over to
stand beside her father. Nakor watched her move away, then looked at
Pug's face, the oozing, cracked skin, the blackened arms and legs.

"But
if he does, it will be a very long time before he fights again.

Days passed, and Pug's condition remained unchanged. The Spellweavers,
Nakor, and Sho Pi, worked in shifts, pouring as much healing magic as
possible into the unconscious magician. Only exhaustion forced them
from his side. Nakor returned from another half-day spent healing Pug,
and sat down heavily next to Macros and Miranda, who were eating their
supper next to a fire.

"How is he?" asked Miranda.

"The same," said
Nakor, shaking his head slightly.

"I fear he grows weaker." Miranda's
grief was openly revealed as tears gathered 'm her eyes.

"He's not
going to live, is he?" Nakor shrugged.

"I do not know. It may be a
long time before we do know." Macros placed his hands upon his
daughter's shoulders.

"And we don't have a long time, do we?" Nakor
shook his head.

"No. And again we find another mystery." Macros said,
"Yes." Nakor said, "I'm going to sleep awhile, then I think we need
hold council with the Queen and Tomas."

"I agree," said Macros. The
three of them rose to find places to sleep and parted company. Nakor
couldn't help returning to the clearing a moment and looking at Pug.

The magician remained motionless, the only sign of his still being
alive the slight rise and fall of his ribs as Sho Pi continued to keep
his hands upon Pug's charred chest. Perhaps it was wishful

thinking, but Nakor thought Pug's breathing might be slightly deeper
and more regular than before. Again he wondered at the small
magician's strength and will to live.

Aglaranna looked around the circle and said, "Tathar says Pug will
live. it will be a long time before he regains consciousness and
longer still before he heals, but with our arts we can restore his
damaged skin and hair, heal the broken bones and burned tissue." The
relief was almost tangible in the council, especially on the faces of
Tomas and Miranda. Macros said, "Pug was right and we were not."

Miranda's expression showed she felt terrible guilt over her part in
Pug's precipitate attack.

"It is my fault." Nakor said, "It is no
one's fault or everyone's fault. No one forced Pug, your father and
you to attack the Emerald Queen. We thought it risky and it was."

"They were better prepared than we anticipated," said Miranda.

"More
than that," said Macros. To Miranda he said, "You were too far removed
from the battle to see what Pug and I saw, and you have no way of.

knowing "What?"

"The woman who was your mother is but a shell, an
illusion. I suspect she is long dead. The creature at the head of
this army is a demon. He identified himself to Pug as Jakan."

"Jakan?"

said Nakor.

"You've heard of him?" asked Miranda.

"In a roundabout
wAy," said the little man.

"He's a demon captain, not a big one, like
Tugor, First Servant to Maarg, Ruler of the Fifth Circle, but one with
some reputation." Tathar said, "We have had contact with such once or
twice in the history of our race. How do you know of them, human?"

Nakor shrugged.

"You hear things, here and there."

Miranda said, "You're an infuriating little man." Nakor grinned.

"Your
mother said the same to me when we were married." He sighed.

"I wish I
had had a daughter like you." Macros said, "No you don't." Suddenly
laughtir filled the council and everyone knew the relief was at Pug's
apparent recovery as much as from the banter. Then Nakor's expression
turned serious.

"About a century or so ago I found my way into the
Hall of Worlds and spent some time at Honest John's. It's a good place
to gamble." He made a sour face.

"Hard place to cheat. Anyway, in the
course of my time there I heard about some troubles with the demons."

"Such as?" prompted Macros.

"That someone was stirring them up and they
were attempting to breach the barriers out of the Fifth Circle into the
higher realms."

"Someone provided them a way," suggested Macros.

"That's what worries me," said Tomas.

"In the memories of the Valheru,
we struggled with the demons, and among our foes, only the Dread were
more powerful. But the Dread and the demons were confined to realms
far from our own, and for them to be here, both at the time of the
Riftwar and now, means an agency of great power is behind all of this."

Macros and Miranda exchanged looks.

"I sense we know something..."

said Miranda.

"Knew something," said Macros. To the Queen and Tomas he
said, "There are larger forces at play here, but I also have some sense
that we have limits as to what we may do. I suggest we consider what
may be our next best course of action." Tomas said, "It's obvious the
fleet is well protected and that another attack of the sort Pug mounted
would prove unwise."

"Agreed," said Macros.

"They may not know my
and

Miranda's abilities, but they must know Pug has allies of significant
power and have defenses in place. This demon who has taken the Emerald
Queen's place may not be a great demon lord, but he has firm control of
those around, us, from what little I glimpsed as I saved Pug.

"We must
consider the risk that the demons are in a position to slip more of
their captains and lords through
into Midkemia. We must attend to that danger, while I think we'd best
leave the more mundane concerns of invasion to those who are best
equipped to meet it: Prince Patrick, Duke James, and Knight-Marshal
William." Tomas said, "We will, though we will aid them when the time
comes."

"I understand," said Macros. He stood and moved to the middle
of the circle.

"With Pug injured, I must again put myself in the
center of this struggle." Aglaranna said, "Years ago you came to us and
were instrumental in saving our home, Macros. Your wisdom is always
welcome here." Macros rubbed his beard.

"My wisdom is somewhat lacking
at the moment, lady. Before I had Sarig's gift of future sight, and
the ability to travel at will back and forth through time. Since the
severing of our ties, I fear I have but a bare sense of where to start
looking next for our course of action." Miranda said, "Well, we need to
find the Rift and close it forever."

"Perhaps you need to look at the
place Calis and Miranda found those tainted artifacts." It was Tathar
who spoke.

"I've studied the artifacts our Calis sent to us as much as
anyone, and while I can put no name to the alien presence that has
touched them, I can say it is powerful, and what is there is well
hidden. It must be the demons, and that must be where they are
entering our world." Acaila held up his hand and nodded in agreement.

"Absolutely. Tathar and all the Spellweavers have indicated

this is magic of great power and subtlety, well hidden, masked to
disguise its origin and clever in its construction."

Macros said, "That sounds likely." Tomas said, "I will go with you
two." Miranda said "I thought u never left Elvandar." Tomas said, i
vowt~dugneveyroto leave save at great need." He turned to his wife.

"It is time." The Elf Queen's face was an expressionless mask, yet her
eyes betrayed a flicker of emotion. Then she calmly said, "I know."

Tomas asked Macros, "Should I call a dragon?" Macros said, "No.

Miranda knows where the entrance to the caves is." He turned to her.

"If you guide me," he said, "I can take the three of us there." Miranda
said, "No need. I can do so." Tomas said to his wife, "Abide, and keep
hope in your heart. I will come back." No one spoke until a few
minutes later Tomas reappeared, and even though he had seen him dressed
so before, Macros felt awe. Tomas stood dressed in armor fashioned of
gold, a helm and coif, chain shirt and leggings. His white tabard,
bearing a golden dragon design, was cinched by his black belt, and his
boots were black leather as well. His scabbard was white, looking as
if carved from ivory, but it was empty. Calin came and withdrew his own
sword, handing it to his mother's husband.

"A loan," he said. Tomas
took it, nodded once, and slipped it into the scabbard. I will
return it soon," he said. To Macros and Miranda he said, "Come. It is
time." He motioned and Miranda rose, took his hand and Macros' s,
closed her eyes, and they were gone. Redtree watched the empty space
and said, "Until I saw him in that armor, I had doubts. But he is
Valheru."

Acaila said, "Not truly. A fact for which we should all be eternally
grateful." No more was said.

Bitter winds swept the mountains as they appeared. Miranda blinked at
the bright sunlight after the cool evening light of Elvandar. The
rising sun was shining directly in her eyes.

"Over there." She pointed
to a cave mouth.

They moved quickly toward the dark opening and entered. Once they were
inside, the noise of the wind was cut and Tomas said, "I see in the
dark, but what of you?" Macros raised a hand and a nimbus of light
surrounded him, illuminating the cave mouth. He looked around. Miranda
said, "This tunnel was one I found by accident. Boldar Blood was ~g
some serpent warriors who were trying to block our path and I noticed a
faint light from above." At the mention of the mercenary from the Hall
of Worlds, Macros said, "I wouldn't mind his sword with us, now."

Miranda said, "Not to mention all those other exotic weapons he bears."

Macros spoke under his breath, "But not at the prices he charges, I
wager." Tomas laughed.

"You keep your sense of humor, old friend."

"Well," said Miranda, 'you'll find little to laugh about ahead. This
way." . She led them into the tunnel, one low enough that Tomas had to
duck to enter. They half scrambled, half walked down a narrow, steep
incline, entering another tunnel by having to slide almost sideways
into a stone alcove, about six feet above a larger tunnel. As they
jumped to the floor of the second tunnel, Macros said, "It's a miracle
you even noticed that entrance."

Miranda said, "I was motivated. Boldar is a fearsome fighter, but he
survived to reach Elvandar with me only because we were fighting a rear
guard action up that narrow crawl way Else we would have been
overwhelmed." Macros looked around. A few bones littered the passage,
and what looked to be a broken sword hilt.

"Something has disposed of
most of the mess." Tomas said, "Scavengers?"

"Perhaps," said Macros.

He asked Miranda, "Which way?" She pointed and started walking without
saying anything.

Twice they had paused to rest, though it was not so much that anyone
was fatigued as to stop a moment and get their bearings. Once they
opened a small bag that Macros carried, which held some small slivers
of a food for travel prepared by the elves. Another time they drank
from a waters king Miranda carried. Then they reached the first major
gallery of the Pantathians. There's something close by," Tomas said
in a low voice.

"I feel it, too," said Macros.

"Then we have a
consensus," offered Miranda.

"It's that way." She pointed across the
hall, now blanketed by dust, but full of dead and dying Pantathians
when she had last passed that way.

"Up there," she said, 'we came into
this hall. We saw the demon fighting the Pantathians down on the
floor." She indicated the ridge that ran around the gallery, above
their heads.

"We crossed along there, and lowered ourselves down a
rope to there." The location she indicated was marked by a low door,
now hanging open.

"Some Saaur and Pantathians objected, and we fought
our way down that corridor." Glancing around, she commented, I didn't
realize how close we came to doubling back when we fled down that
hallway."

Tomas said, "Sometime I'll tell you of the time a wraith chased me
through the ancient Mac Mordain Cadal. I survived only because I could
double back and lose it in those confusing tunnels." Macros said, "I'm
astonished you can find your way through here at all. It's been over a
year, and you've only
been through here once." Dryly Miranda said, "When your life is.in the
balance, you'd be amazed what you remember." She led them to the open
door.

"It was down this way we found the artifacts." Tomas said, "We
can go that way later. I'm inclined to discover who or what we feel up
that way." He pointed to the tunnel opening Miranda had indicated she
and Calis's party had used to enter this area the previous year.

"That
way lies a passage to a central corridor, a large vertical shaft that
runs from the bowels of this mountain to the peak."

"I know," said
Tomas.

"That was a common feature of the Valheru mountain holdings.

Otherwise a dragon had no means to enter the central hall." Miranda led
and they followed, and soon they were walking through another dark
passage.

Time passed without measure and they went on without pause. On two
occasions Macros asked Miranda if she needed to rest, a question she
dismissed with a sarcastic remark. After the second rebuff, Macros
decided to stop asking. Miranda wished they could use their magic to
transport ahead, but it was decided there was too much chance they
might miss something. Also, without exact knowledge of the location to
which they were moving, there was always the risk of materializing
inside solid rock. They descended the large shaft Miranda had
described. As if the center of the mountain had been hollowed out,

I.

a large ramp spiraled up and down, cut into the stone of the mountain.

The central shaft was unguarded by rail or barrier, and the wind gusts
were strong enough to give one the feeling of being sucked over the
edge. Large areas had been carved out of the stone at various
locations, for what purpose only . they know. Macros
thought hijn I omas mig he might ask ome time but
at the moment the magician was disinclined to speak without need. This
wasn't the time or place for idle chatter. They came to another large
tunnel that intersected the shaft, and a faint, unpleasant odor reached
them.

"It's near," whispered Tomas, as they moved into the large
hallway. Macros sniffed and identified the stench as something rotting.

"A lair?" he whispered in return. Tomas only drew his sword and moved
forward. Macros let Miranda follow and took up his position at the
rear of the file. The white-and-gold-clad warrior was first to enter
another large gallery, near the bottom of the circular shaft. Macros
and Miranda abruptly stepped to the side, making way for him, as Tomas
shouted a war cry and leaped over the edge._ Macros took a quick step
and met a sight that made him hesitate an instant. A creature sat upon
its haunches gnawing on a bone. It was scaled in black glinting with a
faint green shine. Large batlike wings were folded upon its back, and
its head was something alien, looking roughly like that of a crocodile
fashioned from grey stone, with a stag's antlers rising from the skull.

If skin protected that skull, it was taut enough not to be evident at
first glance, and was pulled back so that an impressive array of teeth
was always on display. Powerful shoulders melded into long arms, ending
with hands tipped with talons the size of daggers. Miranda said, "A
demon." Macros was beginning an incantation, one designed to stun the
creature, as Tomas landed on the stone floor
before it. The demon rose up, standing a full head taller than the
half-human warrior, and for an instant Macros
was concerned for Tomas's safety. But, rather than attack, the creature
pressed itself against the wall, and spoke. A single word, in a
language unknown to Miranda, but the effect on Macros and Tomas was
instantaneous. Macros ceased his incantation and Tomas halted an
attack in midstrike, turning his blade so that, instead of cleaving
flesh, Calin's blade struck the stone next to the creature. Sparks
erupted on the wall as he cut a furrow in the stone next to the demon.

Macros leaped to his companion's side as the brute attempted to avoid
Tomas's strike. Again the alien word was repeated and Tomas stepped
back.

"What is it?" shouted Miranda from above. Macros stood at Tomas's
side, not taking his eyes from the demon. The fearsome-looking being
remained motionless, as if waiting, and Tomas said, "He yields."

Miranda asked, "How do you know?" Tomas turned to his friend.

"That's
what he shouted. He yields." Miranda also jumped down, landing heavily
next to Macros.

"I speak a dozen tongues. I've never heard that one
before. What is it?" Tomas regarded her with confusion clearly marking
his half-alien features.

"It is the language of the Valheru. It's the
ritual phrase of submission. Our servant races spoke it as a
greeting." Miranda looked from Tomas to the cowering demon and let out
a long, slow breath, while wishing her heart would cease pounding its
way out of her chest.

"Isn't that something.,

ELEVEN

) Alarm

Erik ran. Drums rolled as he dashed through the halls of the old castle
at Tannerus. He reached the open doorway at the top of the stairs
heading down into the courtyard. In one quick glimpse he saw it all,
the assembled soldiers bearing witness to the execution, the four men
standing upon wooden supports, the ropes already around their necks.

Erik shouted, "No." as he leaped over the railing to the second landing
below, but the sounds of the drums drowned him out. Erik half-flew
down the remaining stairs into the courtyard as the drums halted and
the supports were kicked out from under the condemned. He ran the
twenty yards to where the men stood at attention, and saw that three of
the men had died instantly of broken necks, and the fourth had ceased
his brief twitching. Erik stopped.

"Damn!" he swore. The order to
dismiss the formation was given, and the troops of the Tannerus
garrison broke ranks and hurried back to their duties. No man wanted
to linger while another soldier twisted in the wind. Erik stood nearly
breathless as he watched his men swinging below the makeshift gallows.

The captain had wasted little time in putting the condemned to death.

Had he ordered a half-decent gallows be erected, Erik would have gotten
here in time. Erik searched the faces of the dead. He knew them by
sight, but not yet by name. Still, they were his men.

Captain Simon de Beswick turned his horse and saw Erik standing there.

"Is something amiss, Sergeant Major?" Erik studied the foppish officer,
just rotated in from the East. Erik and another company of the
Prince's soldiers had been ordered into the field, and he discovered
that de Beswick would ride with them to Tannerus. De Beswick was
seconded to the Prince's court, and assigned garrison duty in the
north. The two men had taken an instant dislike to each other. The
only person to whom de Beswick was civil was Owen Greylock, because of
his rank, senior to de Beswick's. He refused any conversation with any
enlisted man save in the line of duty, and was uniformly rude and
abusive to the men. It had been with relief that Erik had taken half
the men into the field for a week's field training, while the other
half had remained to be trained in garrison defense. Erik had just
returned to be
informed at the gate that four of his men were being hanged. Erik
balled his right hand into a fist, and said, "Why were those men
executed?"

"They pilfered stores," said de Beswick, raising his
eyebrows as if asking a question.

"Those were my men,"Erik said with
menace in his voice, almost a growl.

"Then tend to them better,
Sergeant Major, and address me as "sir," in future." The captain made
to ride past, and Erik seized the reins of his horse.

"You had no
right to hang my men. We're not even in your command!" De Beswick
said, "I had every right, as commander of the garrison here at
Tannerus, and I certainly do not need to explain my actions to you,
Sergeant Major." Slowly drawing his sword, he said, "Now, please be
good enough to release my horse, or I shall be forced to kill you for
assaulting an officer." Owen Greylock caught up with Erik, and said,
"Put up that sword, de Beswick!"

"Knight- Captain?" said the garrison commander.

"That's an order," said
Greylock calmly. Reluctantly de Beswick put the sword away. Owen put
his hand on Erik's shoulder and said, "Sergeant Major, see to your men.

I'll take care of this." Owen waited until Erik had left, then turned
and grabbed de Beswick by the boot, lifting suddenly. As Owen
expected, de Beswick came flying out of his saddle, and as his horse
galloped away, the captain from Bas-Tyra landed hard upon the dirt of
the courtyard. Owen grabbed the young man by the collar and hauled him
to his feet. Looking into his eyes with an expression that could only
be called murderous, he said, "We have a war coming and you're killing
our soldiers?"

"They were thieves." said the now-fearful de Beswick.

"Half the men in this army are thieves, you idiot." Owen let him go
with a slight shove, and de Beswick landed hard upon his backside
again. Leaning over, Greylock pointed to where Erik had gone.

"That
man may be the best soldier I've ever known, and I've been training
them for thirty years. When this war comes, you incompetent lily, he
is your best hope for staying alive. If you have the brains the gods
give a flea, you will try to learn everything he has to teach you about
surviving in these mountains. If you cross him one more time, I will
give him permission to call you out, and if you face him with sword in
hand, he will kill you. Do you understand?"

"Yes," said the younger
captain, and it was obvious he didn't like what he was hearing.

"Now
get yourself back to your command, de Beswick, while I decide what I'm
going to say to Knight-Marshal William in my next missive." As the
captain started to leave, Greylock said, "One more thing, de Beswick."

"Sir?" asked the captain.

if Captain Calis had been here, he would have killed you, and that's a
certainty." After the young commander of the garrison had departed,
Owen went looking for Erik. He found him in the soldiers' commons,
asking the men of his command what had happened.

"It was nothing," said
a man named Gunther.

"It was a lark, pure and simple, Sergeant Major.

We were tired after a long day of parading' "Parading?" asked Erik.

"Yes, standing formations, marching up and down, turnin' right, then
left, that sort of business." Another man, an old soldier named
Johnson, said, "It's that Eastern Army sort of business, Sergeant
Major. Not fighting, but marchin' in lines and the like."

"Anyway,
those four lads just wanted to nick a little ale from the ale shed,
nothing criminal." Erik could see the men were in a foul mood, and he
didn't blame them. If caught, the men should have stood extra
punishment watches, or at worst a flogging, but to hang them was beyond
excuse. He was about to say something when Greylock spoke.

"Erik, a
word with you." Erik came over to the former Swordmaster from Darkmoor
and said, "I know, I shouldn't have interfered." Seeing they were out
of hearing range of the soldiers, Owen said, "Probably you should have
killed him, but that's not the issue. Give him a wide berth; he may be
looking to goad you."

"Why?"

"He's from a well-connected family in
Bas-Tyra. His father is a cousin to the Duke of Ran." Comprehension
dawned on Erik.

"Which means his family is probably close to the von
Darkmoors."

"Maybe. I know they know each other, but close? I don't
really know. He could be one of Mathilda's agents," said Owen. The
slender man rubbed his chin in thought.

"Or

some idiot who thinks to curry favor from the Baron's mother by ridding
her of a bothersome threat to her son's title." Erik sighed.

"How many
times do I have to tell the world I have no interest in my father's
title?" Owen said, "No matter how many times you do say it, Mathilda
won't be satisfied until you're dead."

"What should I do?"

"I'll send a
note to Duke James and let him intercede with William to transfer this
idiot to someplace where he may die gloriously for the King. I'm going
to recommend he command the catapults on the seawall they're building
in Krondor." Erik winced.

"I thought it was going to be manned by
volunteers."

"It is. We'll just see that young de Beswick volunteers."

owen smiled.

"Take your other company out at first light. Don't linger
here. I have to move on to Eggly and see to the defenses there. We're
going to have to put up a convincing fight throughout these hills to
force the Emerald Queen's army where we want it." Erik sighed. So much
to do and so little time to prepare. He knew the fleet had departed
from Novindus; all those who had served with Calis across the sea knew
that.

"What of Krondor?" Owen shrugged.

"Rumors. Some timid folks
are starting to leave the city. Nothing that's stirring up real alarm.

There's a lot of movement along the Keshian frontier, so many folks are
thinking we may have war in the south again."

"It's going to be
difficult to keep the city under control once the fleet clears the
Straits," said Erik.

"I know. I expect James and William have come up
with a solution." Erik said nothing more. The Queen's fleet would
clear the Straits in less than a month's time, at the midsummer

Festival. He had fears that the city would be the ultimate sacrifice
for the good of the Kingdom, but the problem for him was that the girl
he loved was in the city. As Erik left owen, and gave orders that the
company in the garrison would be rotated out in the morning, he
wondered if he could prevail upon Roo to help get Kitty out of
Krondor.

Roo looked at the books and said, "I don't understand."

Jason took that to mean he was vague on the methods of accounting, and
began explaining it again' No," interrupted Roo.

"I know the sums and
the calculations. What I mean is I don't understand why we're losing
money." Jason, the former waiter at Barret's who had become the chief
accountant for Roo's financial empire, said, "It's a problem with too
many debts not being paid to us and too many bills we're paying in
timely fashion. We're borrowing money for things we should have paid
for out of our cash reserves."

"Which are nonexistent," said Roo. He
had lent every available golden sovereign to Duke James.

"Well, I have
about as much chance of a loan repayment from the Crown anytime soon as
I do of learning how to fly." He sighed, stood up from the table in his
office and said, "What do you recommend?" Jason, still looking much
like the youth who had first befriended Roo three yearsearlier, said,
"You could sell off some of our less profitable concerns."

"True, but I
hate to get rid of capital assets." He yawned.

"I'm tired." Glancing
out the window, he saw that night had fallen.

"What of the clock?"

Jason turned and looked down the hall to where the fancy Keshian
timepiece had been erected.

"It's almost seven of the dock."

"Karli
will be furious," he said.

"I promised to be home at six."

"The family's in the city?"

"Yes," said Roo, grabbing his cloak and
hurrying down the hall. Fortunately, by the time Roo reached his house,
he found Karli lost in conversation with Helen Jacoby. The two women
had struck up a guarded friendship after the death of Randolph Jacoby,
awkward becauseRandolph'ss brother had been responsible for the death
of Karli's father. But in the main they seemed to enjoy each other's
company, and the four children played well together. And Roo found
that he always enjoyed those evenings when both families gathered.

"There you are," said Karli.

"Supper will be served in a few moments."

Cries of "Daddy!" and "Uncle Rupert!" filled the hall as the children
swarmed over him. Laughing, Roo fought his way through the tangle of
legs and grasping hands, and made his way to the stairs. As Abigail
started to follow him up the stairs, he said, "I'll be down shortly,
darling."

"No." she announced imperiously.

"Go away." With a regal
turn, she walked to the end of the hall and stood with her arms
crossed. From his position on the stairs, Roo glanced at the two women
in the parlor, and Helen was laughing while Karli looked astonished.

Helen said, "They all go through that." Roo nodded and hurried up to
his and Karli's room, where he washed up and changed his shirt. He
returned to the dining room, where the children carried on at one end
of the long table while Roo and Karli sat with Helen Jacoby at the
other end. Roo noticed Helen had taken to wearing her hair up in the
new style, curls set around the forehead, and ringlets falling from an
odd-looking comb. Roo wondered if it would be rude to ask what the
comb was made of, then
realized he had almost no idea what the latest fashions in the Prince's
City were. He thought Sylvia would know, and then realized he rarely
saw Sylvia dressed anymore, and besides somehow it seemed improper to
be thinking of her while his wife and Helen were sitting next to him.

"Why, Roo," said Helen, 'you're blushing." Roo feigned a cough, then
said, "Something in my
throat." He made a display of, furiously coughing, then dabbing at
nonexistent tears in his eyes with his napkin. Helen laughed again, and
Roo was astonished to discover how lovely she was. He had always
thought of her as a fine-looking woman nothing like the beauty Sylvia
was, but in her evening finery with her hair done up, she was quite
attractive. Karli said, "Helen tells me you are doing well by her in
running her company." Roo shrugged.

"It pretty much runs itself. Tim
Jacoby he was about to say the man was a swine who knew his business,
but given his sister-in-law was sitting there, he changed it to ~ 'was
very organized."

"Yes, he was," agreed Helen. Conversation turned to
discussing small items of importance to the children and the landmarks
of their growth. The boys were starting to act like boys and the girls
were becoming girls, and the mysteries of children still seemed to Roo
uncharted territory. He looked at his own children and realized he knew
next to nothing about them. He barely paid them any attention, and
suddenly he felt very odd about that. Perhaps when they were older,
they'd have something interesting to say to him. his gaze wandered
again to Helen Jacoby, and after a moment she looked his way.

Realizing he was staring, he said, "Would you care for brandy?" Karli
looked surprised. In their house, he had never

offered brandy to anyone but his business associates.

"No. Thank you,"
she said.

"By the time we get home it will be the children's bedtime."

The Jacoby family departed, riding in one of Roo's carriages, and Karli
put the children to bed. Roo sat alone in his study for a while,
drinking a brandy that he could hardly taste. His mind was lost in
worry; he knew that the war was coming and that it was time to get his
family to the East, or at least out to his estate, ready to flee from
there. Conversations with Erik and Jadow Shati and others who trusted
him had revealed the presence of invaders already within the borders of
the Kingdom. Most of those had been neutralized, but when the fighting
erupted, who knew how dangerous travel to the East would become? Karli
came down the stairs and asked, "Are you coming to bed?"yes," said
Roo, 'in a few minutes." As his wife started to turn away, he observed,
"You seem to like Helen and her children." Karli said, "Yes, I do. Her
people and mine came from the same village, and we have a lot in
common. And her children are sweet." An idea came to Roo.

"When the
Midsummer Festival has passed, what do you say to having the Jacobys
out to the estate for a few weeks? The children can swim in the
stream, and ride horses."

"Roo, they're too little to ride."

"Well
then, we'll get them some pony carts." He stood up.

"The weather will
be beastly hot and it will be much nicer out there." Karli said in a
guarded tone, "You're not trying to get me out of the way, are you,
Rupert?" Alarmed that she might suspect his affair with Sylvia, Roo
took her in his arms.

"Not that. I just think I'd like some quiet
time with my family, that's all'

"Having four children in the house instead of just two is hardly my
idea of quiet," said Karli.

"You know what I mean," he said, playfully
swatting her bottom. He kissed her, and she responded.

"Let's go to
bed." While somewhat distracted by worry, he was still able to please
Karli, and after their lovemaking she lay asleep in his arms. He found
himself visited by an odd confusion, for as was often the case he was
thinking of someone else
while making love to his wife, but this time he found himself thinking
not of Sylvia Esterbrook but rather of Helen Jacoby. Remembering Gwen,
the serving girl back in Ravensburg whom he had lost his virginity to,
he silently said to himself, Gwen's right; we are all pigs." Fatigue
drove away this moment of lucidity, and Roo fell into a deep sleep.

Erik read the orders and said, "We're recalled to Krondor." Corporals
Harper and Reed both saluted and moved Out briskly,calling out
commands to the soldiers spread out in the hills. Erik wiped his brow
and calculated. He knew that most of the men in the hills were among
the last to be trained, the last to be considered for the critical task
of limiting the ability of the invaders to expand their front anywhere
except where Prince Patrick and his advisers permitted. Most of these
men would be assigned to the defense of the city, and if Erik judged
things rightly, those garrison units slated to defend in the hills
would soon be moving along in small groups, patrols ostensibly, so the
Emerald Queen's agents would have little to report. Erik admired
Knight-Marshal Williams plans, for it now looked as if all units
scattered throughout the West were being recalled for the defense of
the city. Erik squinted at the sun. Midsummer was less than two weeks
away, and he knew the Emerald Queen's fleet must

be nearing the Straits of Darkness. It was hotter than usual for this
time of the year, and he knew that meant it was likely to be a
miserable summer. As the men gathered, he considered that even if the
weather were perfect, it would be a miserable summer. Still, by the
time the invaders reached these mountains, it would be late fall, and
if they could hold them until the winter snows, the Kingdom would
survive. Harper returned, saying, "Word's been passed, Sergeant Major,
and we'll be ready to march within the hour."

"Very good," said Erik.

"Have you spotted Captain Greylock in the last few hours?"

"About an
hour ago, that way." The corporal pointed down the road.

"When they're
ready, don't wait for me, start them for KrondorHe glanced around the
hills.

"We have four hours of sunlight left, and I want a good ten
miles behind us before we think about making camp."

"Yes, Sergeant
Major." Erik mounted his horse and headed down the road to find
Greylock by the side of the road, reading a map.

"Owen," said Erik as
he rode up.

"Erik," said Owen.

"Are you ready to march?"

"In the
process," said Erik, as he dismounted.

"The corporals are getting them
ordered and they should be under way in the next few minutes." Erik sat
heavily on the side of the road and said, "I guess we're done up here."

"Done with training," said Greylock. He let his horse crop grass at
the roadside as he sat with Erik.

"Next time we're up here, we'll be
doing it for real." Erik said, "I've wished a thousand times for a few
more days, a week, anything, to get these men into better shape."

"You've done wonders," said Greylock.

"Honestly, I can't imagine
anyone could have gotten more from the men than you did, Erik. Not
Calis, not Bobby de Loungville."

"Thanks for that, Owen." Erik sighed.

"I still worry that it's not
enough." That hardly makes you unique, my young friend." Has Lord
William told you what we're going to do?"

"Yes," said Greylock. He
nodded back up the road.

"At least our part of it. I can guess the
rest."

"We're going to lose Krondor, aren't we?" ,]probably," said Greylock.

"You've seen what happens to cities that resist the Queen, but we've
got to hold her at Krondor long enough so she gets into the mountains
late." Erik looked up at the high, pale blue sky streaked with faint
clouds far above.

"If this weather holds, it could be a long summer."

Greylock sighed.

"I know. Prince Patrick has had some magicians with
weather sight trying to gauge that, and they all say a long summer is
likely." Erik said, "I keep wondering about those magicians. The Queen
uses them. Why don't we?" Owen smiled.

"I expect we'll have a few
magical surprises in store for them. But do you remember Nakor's
explanation of why you don't use magicians in warfare? He repeated it
often enough." Erik laughed.

"Yes, I remember, "First magician throws
spell in battle, then second magician throws counter spell then third
magician tries to help first magician, and fourth magician tries to aid
second, then army shows up and chops them all while they're throwing
magic around," he mimicked. Greylock laughed.

"You do a terrible
impression of Nakor." Erik shrugged.

"But the point is, if we don't do
something to counter her magicians we let them have a terrible
advantage." Greylock stood.

"Ah, my bones are getting too old for all
this riding over the countryside." As he pulled his horse away from the
grass at the roadside, he made a display of

being old. Erik laughed. Greylock put the reins over the horse's
head, then set foot into stirrup and mounted. Once in the saddle, he
said, "Erik, the more you talk, the more you sound like a
Knight-General instead of a Sergeant Major. So don't be asking those
sorts of questions around the Prince, or he'll promote you." Erik
laughed.

"In other words, keep my mouth shut."

"As I said," continued
Greylock.

"The Prince has some surprises up his sleeve, I'm sure."

Erik mounted.

"I'll see you when I get the men back to the city."

"Good," said Greylock.

"Oh, and one other thing."

"What?"the local
commanders are being called in for a last minute council. The cover
story is they're coming in to celebrate Banapis with the Prince, but we
know why. So that means de Beswick will be in Krondor."

"I'll keep my
eyes open."

"Good. The festival in Krondor is nothing like what you're
used to." Erik nodded. Since coming to the Prince's service, he had
managed to be out of the city every Banapis. He had never seen the
city celebrate the midsummer's festival.

"I'll try not to get too
distracted." Erik rode back toward where his men should be mustering.

He hadn't encountered de Beswick since leading this second company into
the mountains. But the suspicion that he could be one of Mathilda von
Darkmoor's agents was not lost on Erik. Besides, Erik had four reasons
to keep an eye on the man even if he wasn't.

Erik stood stiffly at the rear of the room, the only non-titled
non-officer in the room. Captains Calis and Greylock, the only men he
knew well, were across the room with Knight-Marshal William, the Duke
of Krondor, and the Prince, the only other men he recognized.

He was familiar with some of the others, members of the Prince's Court,
officers of the palace, local nobles, though he had spoken to only a
few of them, on rare occasions. He knew within an hour or so, he'd be
dismissed and he could squeeze out some personal time before having to
get back to the orders that were sure to be waiting for him. Patrick
stood.

"My lords, and gentlemen. I'm pleased to
see you all in attendance. You will be given a full briefing in select
groups. It's no secret a hostile army is heading our way, and we've
spent the last several months in preparation for this coming invasion.

"Some of you know a great deal more than others, and for reasons of
state security, I command you not to speculate among yourselves or
share information. Assume that the man next to you is as knowledgeable
as you, or more or less, and cannot give you any more information than
you already have, so don't ask questions." Some of the nobles seemed a
bit taken aback by the order, but no one made a comment. A few glanced
around the room, attempting to measure the reactions of others.

"Now,
to the general situation. This is what you must all know before
hostilities begin." The Prince motioned to two squires, who removed a
large cloth hanging from the wall. Behind the hanging was an immense
map of the Western Realm, from the Far Coast to Malac's Cross. The
Prince picked up a long pointer and moved at once to the far left edge
of the map.

"Here,o said Patrick, pointing to the Straits of Darkness,
'we expect the enemy's fleet within the next week." A few nobles
muttered to one another, but the room quickly fell silent.

"Between
then and when they reach here' he pointed to a point north of the
city of Land's End'we need to be fully mobilized. Therefore, you
will spend the next week before Banapis in meetings, getting orders,
and making ready. We shall all celebrate the

Midsummer Festival as if nothing were amiss we can't alarm the
populace, and already rumors are starting to circulate. Lord James?"

The Duke of Krondor said, "I have agents in the city right now, adding
to those rumors. We're not trying to deny the possibility that war is
coming to Krondor, but we are giving the impression the trouble springs
from Great Kesh. As Krondor hasn't seen a Keshian army in over two
hundred years, the population is currently more concerned about rising
taxes and the possibility of travel to Shamata and Landreth being
curtailed than about any immediate danger." James's expression
darkened.

"That will quickly change. When ships due in from the Free
Cities and Far Coast fail to appear because of the invaders' fleet,
word win quickly circulate from the docks to the outlying farms that
something is coming from the west. When that happens, we'll have to
lock down Krondor."

"Martial law?" asked one of the local nobles.

"Yes," said Prince Patrick. Duke James said, "Our enemy is dangerous,
far more so than many of you can imagine. By the time we're finished
with all our meetings this week, you'll have a better appreciation of
that danger, but until then accept what I say at face: Krondor has
never faced a trial such as the one coming.

"We will impose curfew and,
if possible, permit an orderly evacuation of the city before it is
encircled. But once the enemy has landed, we will close the gates and
Krondor will have to hold."

"Hold?" said another noble.

"What about
help from the East?" Patrick put up his hand.

"Silence. As I said
before, we will tell you only what you need to know. You will obey."

His tone indicated there was to be no debate on this matter. If any of
the nobles present felt slighted, they hid the fact.

Knight-Marshal William said, "So we are clear on the chain of command.

First of all Knight-Marshal William is now commander of the Armies of
the West." He held up a document.

"By order of the King." A few nobles
looked interested, but no one seemed too shocked. By tradition, the
Knight-Marshal of Krondor held rank equal to that of a Duke, and
occasionally in the past, the Duke of Krondor had held both offices.

Patrick then pointed to Calis.

"Captain Calis has the acting rank of
Knight-General of the Kingdom." Patrick held up another document. For
a moment, the significance of what he had just said did not penetrate;

then the jaws of several of the nobles dropped in astonishment,
reflecting Erik's own shock. Knight General of the West would have
placed him second in command of Principality troops. But KnightGeneral of the Kingdom put him second in command to Knight-Marshal
William, and the superior of any Duke in the Kingdom. Calis said, "I
prefer to be referred to as "Captain," in any event." Pointing out
Erik, he said, "My second in command is Sergeant Major Erik von
Darkmoor. Despite his modest rank, assume he speaks with my voice when
he comes to you with orders." This set up a resentful muttering in the
room. Patrick wasted no time in ending it: he struck the table with
the pointer, letting the loud crack silence the nobles.

"This special
unit will operate independently of the traditional order of the Armies
of the West, but if at any time you find yourself in a situation where
you must decide if you are required to follow the orders of an officer
of that special unit, let me make it clear: you will obey orders from
any officer of any rank from that special unit as if they originated
with the Crown. Is that abundantly clear?" That left no room for
misunderstanding.

"Yes, Your Highness," said several of the nobles.

"The units of the Special Command, under Lord Calis, the Royal
Krondorian Pathfinders, and other special

auxiliaries are all included in those orders. You will be provided
with a complete list of those units before you depart for your own
commands." Erik glanced around the room. Several of the Dukes in
attendance were close to enraged at the orders, and hid the fact
poorly. Patrick showed the training of his office by slamming the
pointer on the table hard enough to break it.

"My lords," he said in a
loud but controlled voice. Then he lowered his voice.

"When this is
over, you will understand why the creation of special units and the
operation outside the traditional organization of the Armies of the
West are imperative. I needn't remind any of you what history taught
us during the Riftwar: that a unified command is essential. As I have
only one Knight-Marshal, I must leave it to him to decide how the
troops under his command will be disposed." William, as if an actor
moving on a cue, said, "We'll organize the defense of the area around
Krondor, utilizing most of the soldiers under your command, my lords.

Those of you in command of nearby garrisons will return to those the
day after Banapis. Those of you who have been called in from distant
garrisons can expect to have your troops seconded to the Prince's
Garrison, under my direct command. A few of you will be asked to
volunteer for particularly dangerous duty. Now, again I caution you
about speaking to anyone outside this room about anything that you are
privy to in the next week. Our foe is cunning and has agents
everywhere, perhaps in your own commands. Trust no one outside this
room. Until we meet with each of you in private, you are given leave
to depart." Erik watched as the lords of the Western Realm of Krondor
departed, many still barely in control of their fury. When the room was
empty of all but Patrick, James, William, Calis, Eric, and a handful of
court officials, Patrick said, "Well, that went better than I
expected."

Erik's expression was open amazement. Calis said to him, "He means we
didn't have open rebellion." William laughed.

"We held off telling
them they'd been relegated to a secondary role until the last possible
minute, but we could hold off no longer." Erik said, "I don't think I
fully understand." Calis said, "That's as it should be." He asked his
Prince,

"Have I your leave to depart?"

"Yes, you'd better hurry," said Patrick.

Erik glanced at William, who said, "A special mission." Erik had gotten
used to Calis's special missions since becoming his Sergeant Major. He
put aside his curiosity and said, "Yes, sir."

"I've got a lot for you
to do, Sergeant Major," said William. But no need to start until I
get through with those nobles who just left in such a foul mood. Take
some time off this evening and relax. Starting at noon tomorrow, until
Banapis, you're going to be working from dawn to dusk."

"Yes. sir,"
said Erik.

"Is there anything else?"

"Nothing right now, but start
thinking about which of those last batch of trainees might serve in the
mountains. Have a list of the fifty best on my desk by noon tomorrow."

"Yes, sir." William said, "I've already ordered three hundred of your
best out at dawn tomorrow, under Colwin and Jadow Shati. Most of your
command is moving out in small groups this week. I'll bring you up to
date at noon tomorrow. Until then, your time's your own." , Erik
saluted, bade the Prince, the Duke, and the others good day, and
departed. He hurried to his own quarters and sat down, going over a
list of men with whom he had just returned from the mountains. For a
moment he felt defeat. The names meant nothing to him; how would he
pick fifty to give some slightly better

chance of survival to? Then a name caught his eye, a man named
Reardon. He remembered him because of a particularly funny off-color
remark he had made at a difficult moment, when lesser men would have
been losing their temper. The men around him had laughed, the tension
had lessened, and the men had managed the task Erik had given them. He
saw the man's face, and then began remembering the men who had been
with that group, Reardon and his five team-mates, and the other group.

Within moments, Erik recalled a dozen names. At the end of an hour,
Erik had a list of fifty men he judged fit for the extraordinary duty
required in the mountains. Feeling better for having that task out of
the way, he visited the enlisted baths, finding several off-duty
soldiers cleaning up. He overheard the barracks gossip and, by the
time he was refreshed, was certain that the entire garrison was abuzz
with some sense of impending conflict. Erik changed into fresh clothing
and as fast as he could, found his way to the Inn of the Broken Shield.

The inn was fairly crowded, but that didn't stop Kitty from nearly
jumping over the bar as she flew into his arms. Erik laughed, and as
the slender girl kissed him he said, "Slow down, woman. Do you want
people to think you've no morals?" Kitty said, "Who cares what people
think?" Several of the nearby patrons laughed at the remark. One of the
whores employed by Duke James said, "I certainly don't, dearie!" Erik
said, "How have you been?" She pinched his cheek playfully and said,
"Lonely. How long before you have to go back to the palace?" Erik
smiled.

"I don't have to be there until noon tomorrow." Kitty almost
squealed in delight.

"I opened today, so I

get off in two hours. Have something to eat and don't drink too much
with your low-life barracks mates, because I have plans for you." Erik
blushed, and several of those within hearing range laughed at Kitty's
remarks. Erik crossed to the corner of the inn, where Sergeant Alked
sat with other men from Erik's unit. Erik pulled up chair, and one
of the other serving girls came over with pitcher of ale and a fresh
mug for him. She topped off
the other mugs and left the men to themselves.

"Why so somber?" asked
Erik.

"Orders," said Alfred. Another soldier, a Rodezian corporal named
Miguel, said, "We leave at sundown tomorrow." Erik took a long pull of
his ale.

"So." Alfred said, "It's beginning." The other soldiers
nodded. Erik, the only man in the room who had served with Calis on his
voyages to Novindus, said, "No, it began a long time ago." He looked
off into the distance, then at his companions, and said, "But now it's
here."

Kitty snuggled into the crook of Erik's shoulder.

"I hate that you
have to leave tomorrow."

"I know," said Erik.

"What's wrong?"

"What
makes you think anything is wrong?" They lay in the relative solitude
of her room. Erik could afford to take a room had he wished, but
having spent his childhood in a similar loft he found the odor of hay
and animals, leather and iron familiar and reassuring. Kitty said, "I
know you, Erik. You're worried." Erik weighed his words. Finally he
said, "Do you know a way out of the city?"

"You mean where the gate
is?" she said in a joking fashion.

"No, I mean if the city was sealed, do you think you could find a way
out?" Kitty raised herself up and leaned on an elbow, looking down at
her lover.

"Why?"

"Just answer: could you?"

"Without running.4, into
the Mockers, probably not." Erik considered his next words, for what he
was going to say bordered on treason, and at the very least was a
direct circumvention of orders.

"I have a favor to ask."

"Anything.,
"When the festival winds down next week, just before sundown..."

"Yes?"

she prompted.

"Find your way out of the city; leave with some farmers
heading back to the nearby villages."

"What?" she asked, her expression
one of open surprise.

"I can't tell you exactly why, but I don't want
you in Krondor after Banapis."

"You mean you won't tell me. What is
this all about?"

"Duke James has agents at every gate of the city,
without question, and besides looking for enemy agents, my guess is
they also have orders to stop you, or anyone else he's forced to serve,
from fleeing. Banapis is the best chance you have of getting out of
the city without being stopped."

"Why do I need to leave Krondor?" said
Kitty.

"Because if you stay, I don't know if you'll survive. I can't
say more."

"You're frightening me," she said. Erik had never heard
Kitty admit to being afraid of anything, so the words carried weight.

"Good. You have to fear what I can't talk about more than Duke James's
long reach. Get out of the city and make your way to Roo's estate and
hide there. I'll make arrangements for him to get you out of the West.

And say nothing to anyone."

"Where are you going to be while I'm
hiding in the East?"

"Fighting a war." Erik felt her melt into his arms, and her hot tears
fell on his chest.

"We're not going to see each other again, are we?"

Holding her close, he stroked her hair and kissed her cheek.

"I don't
know, but it won't be for the lack of trying, my love." She kissed him
back.

"I want to forget what you said."

"You can forget until Banapis," said Erik.

"Until Banapis."

TWELVE

~ Midsummer

Roo pointed.

"Nothing like that in Ravensburg, is there?" Erik said,
"You've got the right of it." Below the palace, the courtyard was
filled with visiting nobles, waiting for the traditional noon start of
the Festival of Banapis, midsummer's Day. Erik glanced around and felt
conflicting emotions; Banapis was traditionally the happiest day of the
year, the day when everyone in the Kingdom was counted one year older,
a day dedicated to drinking, gambling, making love, dancing, and
anything else people could traditionally think of as pleasure.

Servants were free to roam after noon and, once the tables were laid
out for the nobles, were free to mingle with them or to head into the
city to partake of the merriment there. Back in Ravensburg, things were
considerably less formal. The servants worked through the night and
morning to prepare the meals, then the town burghers, the members of
the local guild, the Growers' and Vintners', would leave their hall to
signal the beginning of festivities. Everything in Ravensburg was free
that day, with those of great and lesser means sharing. Whatever could
be was brought to-the community table, and at noon the feasting began.

Here there were servants whose part in the festivities wouldn't
commence until the Prince and his family had retired for the night.

Some of them would be permitted to leave early, then forced to return
to take the place of

others, for no matter what the tradition in other parts of the Kingdom,
the royal family could never be without servants. Erik knew from having
been involved in the passing of orders that soldiers were warned to
limit their imbibing and that any man returning to quarters obviously
drunk would be called out for punishment duty the next day. Normally
that would have been insufficient to deter some of the younger
soldiers, but word had been passed that punishment would consist of a
full day beside the convict labor building the new jetty in the harbor.

And that was the reason for the dark shadow that hung over Erik's
otherwise jovial mood. In the back of his mind
he couldn't forget the coming battle, and he fretted over Kitty's
planned escape from the city. He wrestled with his conscience. He
should have gone directly to Lord James and asked him to send Kitty
away, but fear of the Duke saying no had led Erik to this implicit
defiance of orders. He could claim that because James had not overtly
forbidden Kitty to leave Krondor, no one was being treasonable, but
Erik knew it to be a petty legalism, and that he was violating the
spirit of Kitty's conditions of service to Lord James, if not the word.

Yet a part of him didn't care. Her safety was paramount to him,
matched only by his fear for his mother and Nathan, her husband. Kitty
would carry a letter drafted by Erik to Ravensburg, after Roo gave her
shelter. The letter would tell Nathan to take Freida to the east. Erik
understood that should the Kingdom fall, nowhere on Midkemia would
prove safe, but he knew that the fighting would eventually reach
Darkmoor, and even should the Kingdom prevail, Ravensburg was on the
wrong side of the mountains. It would surely be overrun by the
invaders. Roo asked, "What's the matter?" Lowering his voice, Erik
said, "Come with me a moment."

Roo signaled to Karli that he would be with Erik, and she nodded. The
children were freshly scrubbed and on their best behavior, as Roo and a
score of the most important merchants mingled with the assembled nobles
as guests of the Prince, at a private reception of his prior to the
general festivities. Duncan Avery was deep in conversation with Sylvia
Esterbrook, and Erik absently wondered if Roo had intentionally
inflicted his boorish cousin on the girl to keep Karli free of
suspicion. Roo asked, "What is it?"

"A.h," Erik began, then he said, "I
see you brought Helen Jacoby and her children."

"Yes,"answered Roo.

"They're quickly becoming a fixture in my life." He grinned.

"Actually, Helen is a wonderful woman, and she and Karli hit it off.

And the children get along like kittens in a litter.

"Now, tell me
what's really on your mind. You didn't ask me over here to talk about
Helen Jacoby, and you've got something stuck in your craw. I know you
too well, Erik von Darkmoor; I'm your best friend, remember? You want
a favor. You've never known how to ask for one, so just say it."

"I
want you to hide Kitty," he said softly. Roo's eyes widened. Of those
not members of the Prince's court he knew more of what was going on in
the Kingdom than any man. He had served with Calis's forces and had
seen the ravages of the Emerald Queen. He knew about the preparations
for the coming war, as his various companies were doing more business
with the Crown than any other like concerns. He could judge to a
fairly accurate degree just what sort of defense was being mounted and
where, because it was his wagons that were carrying arms and provisions
throughout the Principality. He also knew Kitty's status and who she
had been before being captured by Lord James, and he knew what it
meant
to run afoul of the Duke of Krondor. He hesitated an instant, then
said, "Done." Erik's relief was almost too much. Tears began to gather
in his eyes. Getting his emotions under control, he whispered, Thank
you."

"When do you plan to sneak her out of the city?" Glancing around
to see they weren't being overheard, Erik said, "At sundown. I've
gotten her some common
clothing and a theatrical wig. She will mingle with farmers leaving to
return to the nearby villages.

"I've left money and a horse for her at
the Inn of the Silent Rooster near the village of Essford. The
innkeeper thinks the daughter of a wealthy merchant is eloping with me,
and he's been paid enough not to ask questions."

Roo grinned. He had borrowed money from Erik to start his enterprises
nearly two yearsearlier, and that relatively little bit of gold Roo had
taken had come back to Erik a thousand fold "So you've finally found a
use for the wealth I've made you?" Erik managed a faint smile.

"Yes,
finally."

"Well, I hope you didn't overpay him. That's one of my inns
and you could have gotten the service for free." Erik laughed.

"Is
there anything in Krondor you don't own?I Roo glanced to where Sylvia
was laughing at something Duncan had said, and replied, "Yes, I'm sorry
to say there is." Erik ignored the reference.

"When are you leaving
for your estates?" he asked.

"Tomorrow. Kitty need only spend tonight
at the inn. Tomorrow she can come to my home. I'll put her to work in
the kitchen and tell Karli and the rest of the staff I'm doing her a
favor." He thought about it, then added, "I'll make up some story about
her being from one of my other inns, I'll decide which later, and some
business about a

squabble." He lowered his voice.

"Then I'll tell Karli the truth, and
she'll gladly remain silent. She loves the notion of romance." Erik
shook his head.

"Whatever, Roo. And thanks."

"Come on," said the
little man.

"We'd better get back to the pleasures of the day and mix
around. I take it you're heading to the Sign of the Broken Shield?"

"As soon as it's politic for me to go." Erik smiled.

"People would
wonder if Kitty and I had a falling out if I didn't go spend Banapis
with her." Roo had an idea. He whispered into Erik'sear, "Take her to
the temple and marry her. If James discovers what's afoot, he'll think
less W of you for trying to save your wife from the coming carnage."

Erik stood dumbstruck.

"Marriage?" He looked at his friend.

"I never
thought of it." Roo's gaze narrowed.

"You've been a soldier too long,
friend." They both laughed, and then Erik turned to find Karli
approaching. He said, "Mrs. Avery, I return your husband to you." Karli
smiled.

"Thank you. The children are bored with all the adult talk
and we're taking them down to the courtyard to see the jugglers and
jesters." Roo said, "Ware the mountebanks. Don't buy anything. I'll be
along in a moment." Erik saw he was joking, and Karli pointedly ignored
him. She and Helen took the children, bade good-bye to the Duke's wife,
and departed. Suddenly both Erik and Roo felt a stab of panic as the
Lady Gamina turned her gaze upon them. Both men were all too familiar
with her talents in reading men's minds, and both instantly knew she
had sensed something in what they were doing. She paused a moment, and
a look of sadness mixed with resignation crossed her face, then she
approached them.

Both men bowed, and Erik said, "Duchess, it's a pleasure." Lady Gamina
said, "You'll never make a convincing liar, Erik, so don't try."

Glancing at Roo, she said, "Don't attempt to teach him, either. Men as
honest as Erik are few and far between." She studied Erik's face.

"I
never willingly intrude on another's thoughts, unless I'm bidden by my
husband for the good of the state' her eyes hinted at
some regret at that 'but occasionally thoughts come to me unbidden,
by those who don't realize they are "shouting" their concerns.

Usually, it's something to do with great emotion." She smiled slightly.

"So why did you suddenly shout "marriage," Erik?" Erik blushed
furiously.

"It's just ... I'm going to marry Kitty." Gamina looked at
him a moment, then smiled.

"You do love her, then, don't you?"

"I do."

The old woman reached out and gently patted Erik's hand.

"Then get
married, young man. I don't know how pointless it is to wish someone
happiness in the days to come, but grab what you can." Glancing over
her shoulder to where her husband stood surrounded by other nobles, she
said, "Enjoy your youth, and if all ends well, treasure her. I know
how hard it is to be one who serves the King. And I know even more what
it is to be married to one who serves the King." Saying nothing more,
she turned away and moved back toward her husband. Roo glanced at Erik
and with a nod of his head indicated they should move out of the
crowded reception chamber. In a hallway, relatively empty, Roo
whispered, "Do you think she knows?" Erik nodded.

"She knows."

"But
she isn't going to say anything?" Erik shrugged.

"I don't think she'll
he to her husband, not for you or me, but I think she's not going to
volunteer

anything either." Erik was thoughtful for a moment, then said, "There
is something very sad about her." Roo shrugged.

"If you say." He
glanced into the reception room and said, "I'd better see what Duncan
is up to."

"Right," said Erik with a heavy dose of sarcasm. He knew
full well it was Sylvia to whom Roo wished to attend.

"I've got a few
things to do around here before I can see Kitty." Whispering in his
friend'sear he said, "Thank you. I'll tell her to go to your estate
tomorrow." Roo whispered back, "I'll dress her up as a maid when we
travel east, in a month's time."

"That's cutting it close."

"Any
earlier and the Duke will find an excuse to arrest me, you can be
certain." He squeezed Erik's arm and went back into the room. Erik
walked to his quarters, where he planned on changing out of his black
tunic with the crimson eagle on it, preferring to wear common garb on
Banapis. He reached his small quarters, and stripped off his tunic.

As he folded it, he regarded the red bird sewn on the chest. What was
Calis doing this Banapis, he wondered.

Calis pointed.

"There!" Anthony closed his eyes and muttered a series
of soft syllables under his breath. and the air before them shimmered.

it seemed to bend and contract and suddenly a lens appeared before
them, upon which they could clearly see the fleet of the Emerald Queen
as it progressed through the Straits of Darkness. The old magician
gasped a bit for breath.

"That is perhaps the most useful thing I have
ever learned to do. It bends the air into a spherical lens to magnify
light. Very passive. and we should not be detected at this distance
unless the Pantathians are being supremely suspicious." The two men
stood high atop a peak overlooking the

Straits, the southernmost spire of the Grey Towers.

"Sit down," said
Calis.

"You're short of breath." it's the altitude," said Anthony. As
he sat, he added, And the age." He glanced at the morning sun.

"And
being forced out at such a foul hour to climb mountains. Transporting
us here was more strain than I thought." Anthony was a slender man in
his late fifties, his hair
faded from pale yellow to grey-white, though his skin was still
relatively unwrinkled. He let out a long breath and drew a deeper one.

"I used to be able to climb around up here without passing out." Calis
turned and smiled at his old friend.

"Perhaps you exaggerate? The
South Pass is a full three thousand feet lower in elevation than this
spire. I doubt you've ever been close to any elevation greater than
that."

"Well, all right, so I exaggerate." The brother-in-law of the
Duke of Crydee lay back on the rocks, attempting to get as comfortable
as conditions permitted.

"I'm too tired to look. What do you see?"

"The vanguard is through the Straits and has fanned out in an attack
formation. How do I turn this thing?" Despite the season, the wind was
chilled, for they sat atop a peak eight thousand feet in the air.

Anthony said, "I have to turn it. Which way?"

"First to the right. I
want to see what the bulk of her fleet's deployment is." Anthony held
up his hand until it was parallel to the air lens, then he slowly
turned his hand in a half -arc. The lens moved in a similar arc. The
two men had been companions on Calis's first trip to Novindus. Anthony
had been the court magician to Duke Martin, and had been in love with
Martin's daughter, Margaret. He had voyaged with Nicholas, Calis, and
others in an attempt to recover the kidnapped Margaret and other
hostages, and they had sailed halfway around the world.

Anthony said, "Have I mentioned that whenever you show up, things seem
to get very bad for me?"

"Coincidence," said Calis with a smile.

"I'm
almost certain." He glanced at the lens.

"Hold it there a moment." He
studied the deployment of the fleet and said, "Damn."

"What?" asked
Anthony.

"They're being very cautious."

"How?"

"They've sent
skirmishers farther up the coast than Nicky thought."

"That's bad."

"It
means Nicky's going to have to fight warships and will do little damage
to the fleet even if he wins."

"That is bad." Anthony sniffed at the
air.

"Do you smell something?"

"No. Why?"

"Just asking," said Anthony
as he sniffed again.

"Swing this back a little." Anthony did as Calis
bade, and when Calis again said, "Hold it here," he stopped. Calis
said, "The Queen's got a circle of warships around her craft, and ..
" He paused a moment.

"That's odd?"

"What?"

"Take a look." Anthony
got up with some theatrical groaning and moved to look over Calis's
shoulder.

"Gods and fishes!"

"What do you see?"

"I see a demon sitting
on a throne." Calis said, "Looks like Lady Clovis to me."

"Well, you're
not a magician," said Anthony. He took out a bag of powder and said,
"Sniff this." Calis did as Anthony instructed, and suddenly sneezed.

"What was that?"

"Sorry, one of the ingredients is pepper. Don't wipe
your eyes." Trying to blink away tears, Calis looked through the lens.

For a moment he could see two figures upon the dais in
the center of the ship, the illusion of the Emerald Queen and the
demon.

"That might explain what happened to

Pug."

"I'd like someone to explain to me what happened to Pug," said
Anthony.

"I'm a simple magician. Truth to tell, I haven't worked very
hard at it since I got my title."

"That's what comes of marrying into
nobility," said Calis.

"There's little call for magic when you've got
estates to manage."

"You've filled in for Pug admirably so far," said
Calis. dryly.

"Think you could drop down there and dispose of that
creature?" Anthony closed his eyes and in canted a silent phrase, then
he made a loud snorting noise as he smelled deeply. He made a face and
said, "No, and I doubt Pug could either."

"Really, why?"

"Because I may
not have as much power as Pug or be as clever as some of those fellows
down at Stardock, but one thing I'm very good at is smelling magic."

"Smelling magic?"

"Don't ask. Secrets of the trade and all that."

"Anyway, you were saying?" Anthony said, "I'm serious; I can smell the
reek all the way up here, and we're miles away. Something big went off
around that ship. and it could have been Pug. If what I smell
lingering is what's left over, it was a magical exchange of tremendous
powers. Given that creature is still there, and Pug's nowhere to be
seen, we can only assume the worst." Calis sighed.

"That seems to be
the way things have been working, hasn't it?"

"Can we leave? I'm
getting cold."

"In a while. Move this thing back to the left; I want
to look down across the southwestern horizon if you can manage that."

"It's like a glass; you can see only as far as you could

with your own eyes from this perspective, if your own eyes could see
that far. For what you're asking, you need a crystal, and I neglected
to bring one. Besides, if I had a crystal, which I don't, the first
person who turns it on that creature is likely to get his eyes
blistered for trying."

"Well, as far that way' - Calis pointed 'as
you can manage." Anthony did as he was asked, and heard a satisfied,
"Ah," from Calis.

"What?" asked the magician.

"The Queen sends a
skirmish line up the northern coast toward Tulan. But she only lightly
guards her southern flank."

"Well, there's a lot of deserted islands
and the Trollhome Mountains to the south of the Straits. I doubt she
fears a troll navy, as they haven't evidenced one in recent memory."

"No, but Keshian Elarial is but a week's sailing down the far Keshian
coast, and Li Meth is only two days' travel to the west of her
vanguard. And those deserted islands are just the place for pirates to
hide." Anthony was silent a moment. Then he said, "James?"

"Most
certainly. He's been spreading rumors for months of a treasure fleet
from a fabled land coming this way."

"He is a sneaky bastard, isn't
he?" Calis said, "I think I see sails." He extended his hand to the
southeast.

"Please move the lens that way."

"I get a headache every
time I do."

"Please," Calis repeated.

"Very well." Anthony did as he was asked, and Calis said, "It's a
raiding fleet from Durbin and LiMe th Must be a hundred warships." He
laughed.

"It must be every Keshian pirate between Elarial and Durbin."

Anthony looked.

"And a few of them appear to be irritated to discover
they have neighbors visiting."

"The captains of Durbin are not exactly
what you'd call
welcomed guests in LiMe th as often as not. Move the lens over there,
please." Calis watched as the lens swung around to an orientation
slightly north of west.

"Ah, the Quegans."

"How far?"

"Two days, maybe, if I judge the magnification." Anthony waved his hand
and the lens vanished.

"Good. Now can we go home?"

"Yes. I need to
see my father. If something has happened to Pug he's the most likely
to know about it." Silently he thought that his father would also know
if something had happened to Miranda. Nakor had indicated that Pug and
"Miranda were together, and something about the little man's silence
after he said that set Calis's mind to worry. Calis reached into his
cloak and pulled out an old-looking metal sphere. He motioned for
Anthony to stand next to him and the magician put one hand upon his
friend's arm and activated a lever in the side of the sphere with his
thumb. Instantly they passed through the void, and found themselves,
feeling slightly disoriented, standing in the rear courtyard at Castle
Crydee. Three figures stood waiting.

"What did you see?" asked Duke
Marcus. He was a man nearly equal in height to Calis, and once he had
been powerfully built, but while age showed little on the half elf on
the fifty-year-old Duke it was starting to take a toll. Marcus was
still a robust man, but some of his muscle had turned to fat and his
hair was now completely grey. Beside him stood two women, one obviously
Marcus's sister by the family resemblance. She had a straight nose,
like her brother's, and her eyes were even, unblinking, and despite the
lines of age and sun, a striking brown. She was also a strong-looking
figure for her age. Lady Margaret, the Duke's sister and Anthony's
wife, said, "Anthony?" He smiled as he said, "It's cold up there,
clear, even at this time of the year."

Marcus smiled.

"So you got where you wanted to go?"

"Let's have a
drink and we'll talk," suggested the magician. The third person
greeting them, the Duchess Abigail, said, "There's a meal waiting. We
didn't know how long you'd be." Marcus's wife lacked his or his
sister's outward e, signs of vital er step was quick
and her slight figure hinted at a dancer's lithe strength. She smiled
quickly as she motioned for Calis and her brother-in-law to come
through the rear entrance to the castle.

"Wasn't much to see, really,"
said Anthony.

"The battle's not yet begun." Glancing toward the height
of the sun, he added, "It will not begin until tomorrow. How far away
did you say the Quegans were? Two days?" he asked Calis.

"Quegans?"

asked Margaret.

"We'll explain everything inside," said Calis. They
mounted the steps to the central keep. For Calis, Crydee had been his
second home. His grandparents had lived here, years before, and his
father had spent his childhood working in the kitchen and playing in
the courtyard of the castle. The castle had been gutted in the sacking
of the Far Coast, thirty yearsearlier, when Calis had taken his first
trip to the distant continent. Then he had been a simple observer, on
behalf of his mother and father, but he had returned since several
times, much to his sorrow and regret. They moved down the long hall to
the dining hall. A table long enough to seat a score of dinner guests
formed the top of three sides of a square, in the old court fashion.

The Duke and his wife would dine at the center of the top table, while
guests and court officials would be seated in descending order of rank
from there to the farthest seat. Calis glanced around the hall.

Brightly colored banners hung where once ancient and faded ones had
been dis
played. Calis remembered them from his childhood. They had been the
war trophies of the first three Dukes of Crydee.

"It's never the same,
is it?" asked Marcus.

"No."

"How's Father?" asked Margaret.

"He's fine," said Calis.

"At least, he
was the last time I

saw him, which was more than a year ago. But his life is easy and I
expect he's unchanged. Had anything happened, Mother would have sent
you word immediately."

"I know," Margaret said.

"It's just we miss
him." Marcus said, "Yes, but it's better to have him there, happy and
living, than here, in the burial vault." Calis said, "Well, when this
business is done, you could go visit. Mother and Tomas would certainly
welcome you." Marcus smiled and Calis said, "Do that more often; it
makes you look like Martin." A corner of the left and head tables had
been set, at Marcus's instructions, so the five of them could gather
close. Wine, ale, hot food and cold waited. Anthony said, "Ah, a
little wine will warm me up." Abigail said, "It's still early, so not
too much, else you'll be asleep before the festival is half-over."

Marcus indicated they should sit.

"We need to hurry, for I need to be
in the courtyard at high noon to see things started."

"There's not much
to tell," said Calis as he broke off a hunk of bread.

"Things are
pretty much as we expected, with one change."

"What?" asked the Duke.

"Where the Emerald Queen was supposed to be sitting, in the middle of
the biggest ship in the fleet, a very ugly demon squatted. Looked like
he had some sort of mystic chain of control around the neck of all the
"advisers" who surrounded him ... or it ... whatever."

"A demon."

Marcus's face showed surprise.

"Well, we knew there were some involved, after that last business down
in Novindus I told you about."

"But we thought they were destroying the
Pantathians, not controlling them." Anthony sipped his wine.

"Maybe
there are different demons."

"Maybe so," said C~db as he took a gulp of
wine.

"Humans certainly come with enough politics to keep the world at
war eternally. Who says demons can't have politics?"

"Not I," said
Marcus.

"Well, I'm off. I've got to talk to Mother," said Calis,
rising.

"And you have a festival to start. If my sense of timing is
right, it's nearly noon and the populace will not be pleased if you're
late." He stuck out his hand.

"Thanks for the help, Marcus. Can I
have the loan of a horse?"

"Aren't you going to use that Tsurani
transport thing to get to Elvandar?" said Anthony. Calis tossed it to
him.

"You keep it. You know how to use it better than I, magician.

And use it you must. Rest tonight, then back to that peak we used
first thing in the morning. Take Marcus, and observe the battle. If
you need to get word to me in a hurry, send a runner to the banks of
the river Crydee. I can be back here in a week.

"I'll ride, and if Pug
or Miranda is at Elvandar. they can get me back to Krondor. If not,
I'll return this way and use that thing." Marcus said, "Good-bye,
Calis. Your visits are far too rare." Margaret and Abigail both kissed
him on the cheek, and Anthony shook his hand. Marcus signaled for a
squire to escort Calis to the stable and give him whichever mount he
chose. Then the Duke Of Crydee and his family hurried to the main
entrance of the castle to begin the Banapis festival for another
year.

At sundown, farmers and dtizens who lived outside the
walls of the city began to trickle through the gate.

It Th guards stood idly by, watching only with cursory a entlyeness.

Erik held Kitty in a close embrace, deep in the shadows of a nearby
alley.

"I love you," Kitty whispered into his chest.

"I love you, too," Erik said.

"Will you come for me?"

"Always," said
Erik.

"No matter what, I'll find you." As the lamps were lit and those
shops still trying to conduct business opened their doors to reveal the
light inside, the sound of traffic increased. While the celebration
would last long into the night, there were more sober souls who knew
that come dawn there would be work to be done, and that to be at their
best the next day would require a good night's sleep. Erik held Kitty
away from him a moment. A dark wig peeked out from under the plain
hood of a farmer's cloak of homespun. The dress she had selected was
equally nondescript. To any who failed to inspect her closely, she
looked like nothing more than another common farmer's daughter on her
way home with her family. A small bag was clutched under the cloak,
and in it Kitty carried a modest fortune in gold coins, as much of
Erik's personal wealth as he could put his hands on in short order.

She also carried a pair of daggers.

"If something goes wrong, get to my
mother in Ravensburg." He grinned.

"Just tell her you're my wife and
stand back." Kitty put her head on his chest again, and said, "Your
wife." Neither of them could believe it. They had simply walked into
the temple of Sung the Pure and joined a line of other couples who had
come to be wed. Impulsive marriages on Banapis were hardly uncommon,
and after the priest had asked pointedly if they were intoxicated and
how long they had known each other, he had consented to marry

them. The ceremony had been brief, less than five minutes, and they
had been hustled outside by an acolyte seeking to make room for the
next pair. Erik said, "You have to be ready."

"I know," said Kitty.

She understood that at any instant a group of farmers was likely to
come through whom Erik judged appropriate and she would have to act
without hesitation.

"I don't want to leave you."

"I don't want you to
leave." Then fiercely he said, "But I don't want you to die, either."

"I don't want you to die," she answered, and he could feel her tears
fall on his bare arm.

"Damn. I hate crying."

"Then stop it," he said
lightly. She started to say something, but he said, "Now!" Without even
a kiss good-bye, she turned and walked out of the side street, up to a
young woman who was walking next to a hay wagon, upon which rode a
halfdozen children. An old man drove the wagon, and behind it walked
another three men and a woman. Kitty said to the young woman, "Excuse
me?" As the wagon rolled up to the gate, Kitty was hidden from
observation on one side. and had her back turned toward the guard on
the other as she appeared lost in conversation with the young woman to
whom she spoke. Erik listened as she said, "You're not from Jenkstown,
are you?"

"No," said the young stranger.

"Our farm is only a few miles
from here."

"Oh, I thought you might be someone I knew a while back in
Jenkstown. You look a great deal like her, but prettier." The girl
laughed.

"You're the first to call me that," she said lightly as the
wagon rolled through the gate. Erik strained to hear what was said
next, but the voices were drowned out in the sounds of celebration.

Soon he could tell that Kitty was safely through the gate and beyond
the scrutiny of the guards. He waited another full minute, half
expecting the sound of alarm to be raised. But all he heard was the
city at play, and he forced himself to take a slow, deep breath, then
turned back toward the palace. He decided his best course of action was
to be seen around, and should anyone ask about Kitty, make up some
plausible excuse, that she was in another room, or off visiting the
jakes. There would be enough traffic through the
palace that he might get through the entire evening without anyone
asking after her. As Erik vanished into the crowd, two figures who had
been hiding in the shadows across the street emerged. Dash turned to
his brother and said, "I'll follow the girl."

"Why bother? We know
she's heading either for Avery's estates or to Ravensburg. Those are
the only places he'd send her."

"Because Grandfather wants to know,"
said Dash to Jimmy. Jimmy shrugged.

"Very well, but you're going to
miss the height of the celebration." Dash said, "It's not the first
time I've missed out on some fun because of Grandfather. If Father
asks about me, make up some excuse. If the girl's bound for
Ravensburg, I won't be back for a week." Jimmy nodded and slipped into
the crowd. His younger brother turned and made his way through the
gate, keeping sight of the distant hay wagon.

The next day dawned on two fleets locked in combat, skirmishing in the
pre-dawn gloom. They had caught sight of each other as the darkness
had lightened in the hours before the sun finally climbed into the sky.

Now, as the sun lay still hidden behind the distant mountains, yet
illuminated the morning, the battle was almost decided. Nicholas cursed
and shouted, "Order Belfors and his

three to sail to windward! They're attempting to hold us into the
coast!" A signalman high above shouted, "Aye, aye, Admiral," and began
waving signal flags. He soon shouted back, "Orders acknowledged,
Admiral!" The battle was going badly. If he lost any more ships,
Nicholas was going to have to withdraw, and while he had no doubt he
could out sail his opponent, the failure of his plan put a sour taste
in his mouth. Of all his father's sons, Nicholas was the most like him
when it came to achieving a stated goal, and he had intended to maul
the Emerald Queen's fleet. She knew the Far Coast well enough to
understand that the risk to her fleet would come down the coast from
Tulan. Nicholas' sonly hope for some benefit to his Kingdom came from
the hope that James's plan was working and flotillas from Kesh and Queg
were hitting the fleet as well. It rankled him that he was only
engaging warships, without even sighting the troop convoy, and the sole
comfort that afforded him was the thought that should either the
Quegans or Keshians intercept this fleet, there were that many fewer
guardians to protect it. Seeing no benefit in dying or taking his
command with him, Nicholas shouted, "Word to the fleet! Withdraw." A
red banner was run up while the lookout frantically signaled orders.

Two ships were engaged in boarding actions and could not withdraw
safely. Nicholas weighed his options and ordered them left to fend for
themselves. Each of his ships was rigged with a dozen barrels of fire
oil down below, and if they were taken, the captains were ordered to
put them to the torch, in the hope they'd take along an enemy ship
grappled alongside as well as deny them a Kingdom prize. The fleet off
' the Far Coast were the best deep-water sailors in the world, and
their ships the most nimble. As soon as the order was relayed, like a
finely practiced team

the ships turned up wind and took a following reach, disengaging
themselves from the slower ships of Novindus design. A few of the war
galleys could stay with the Kingdom ships for a short burst, but as the
slaves below became exhausted, they were no match for the Kingdom
warships. Nicholas saw his fleet moving away successfully, and
said, "Captain Reeves, what's the count?" His second in command, the
son of the Baron of Carse and a lifelong sailor, was officially the
captain of the Royal Dragon, though he knew he would never give orders
as long as the Admiral was aboard. He said, "Seven of the enemy sunk,
three burning, five more severely damaged." Both men wore the duty
uniform of the Kingdom Fleet ~ blue jackets and white trousers, newly
instituted by Patrick' sorder but even the Prince of Krondor
couldn't make Nicholas wear the new fore-and-aft hats the Eastern Fleet
wore. He instead affected a broad-brimmed black hat with a very faded
red plume, a legacy from his first voyage as a boy with the legendary
Amos Trask. No man who sailed in the fleet made sport of that hat.

"And of our own?"

"We lost six, and five more are limping up the coast
to Carse." Nicholas swore. At least sixty-five ships had sailed north
against his own sixty, and this had been little more than a sparring
match. Nicholas looked at the morning sun.

"Orders, Captain Reeves."

"Yes, m'lord?"

"Signal the fleet to head west. Let them think we're
running to the Sunsets." He gripped the railing on the quarterdeck.

"At sundown, we turn south. Before dawn tomorrow, we'll turn east and
hit them while they're outlined against the rising sun and we're still
in darkness."

"Understood, sir." Nicholas watched the ponderous ships
of the Emerald

Queen fall away behind, finally turning southward as they gave up their
attempt to overtake the Kingdom ships. Nicholas looked to the east,
where he was leaving one of his ships crippled and sinking slowly,
while his other boarded ship burned.

"This one is far ~from over," said
Nicholas to no one in particular.

THIRTEEN

Improvisation

Calis knelt.

"How long has he been like this?" he asked, using the
subtle speech of his mother's people.

"Weeks," Calin told his
half-brother. Pug lay unconscious in the center of the contemplation
glade, at the very spot where he had first been placed, while
Spellweavers worked around him to keep him alive.

"Tathar?" Calis
asked.

"We think he regains his strength, slowly. The wounds are also
healing, slowly." Calis regarded the silent magician. his body was
covered with huge scabs and scars, with flakes of dead skin peeling
off, as if burned by the sun. Under the flakes, raw pink skin could be
seen. Most of his hair, beard, and brows had been burned away, so he
looked even younger than usual. Acaila said, "We've tried mind probes,
of the most cautious sort, and no one was able to reach him." Calis
stood.

"We were counting on his holding back until the end." Calin
said, "I think he acted imprudently, but that is judging after the
fact. At the time he took the risks, he thought the outcome worth it."

Calis nodded.

"Sinking the Queen's fleet in the deepest part of the
great ocean would have simplified many of our Problems." He shook his
head in regret.

"But I would rather have him standing healthy at
Sethanon." Calin said, "Tomas will go to Sethanon."

"What of the dragons?" Calin looked concerned.

"They doubt Tomas. Not
his word, but they doubt his apprehension of the risk. For all their
wisdom, only a few grasp the concepts of magic we know to be at play."

Calis looked at his brother for a long moment, then said, "May I speak
to you alone?" Calin moved his hand in agreement, indicating the
younger man should follow him. When they were away from the others,
Calis said, '"Miranda?"

"No word from either Miranda or Macros since
they brought Pug back. They went with Tomas to seek information on the
demons under the mountains where you last found them." Calis looked off
at the trees of Elvandar. He was silent for a long time, and his
brother didn't say a word. In the fashion of the elves, Calin knew the
other would say what was on his mind when he was ready. After several
minutes of silence, Calis said, "I miss her." Calin put his hand upon
his shoulder.

"You love her?"

"In a fashion," said Calis.

"Nothing
like among the eledhel; it feels nothing like what I have been told of
the recognition. But she found me, back when this all began, and she
fills a dark and cold place within me as no one else has."

"If it is
still dark and cold when she is not with you, it is not truly filled."

Calin sat upon a large rock and said, "When your father first saw your
mother I was there; I thought him but a boy smitten by the beauty of
one without peer, a boy who had no conception of the feelings between a
man and woman." He sighed.

"I certainly had no idea of what the future
would hold." Calis had heard the story of his mother's first visit to
Castle Crydee, when the Tsurani had first threatened the Far Coast, and
of his father's first glimpse of the Elf Queen. Calin said, "You are
still very young, my brother. You
have seen much, experienced much, but you've not begun to understand
yourself. In many ways you are human, but in many others one of us.

Patience is required in most things. Your father realized that
quickly, when he first came to us, and for a human boy, those years he
spent here taught him much."

"Father's unique. He possesses knowledge tens of thousands of years
old."

"Does he?" said Calin. Calis turned to look at his brother.

"Ashen-Shugar?" Calin said, "Macros said something to me a few days
before he left. He said Tomas had Ashen-Shugar's memories, but that
all memories are suspect." Calis sighed.

"All of this is suspect."

Calin agreed.

"I have stopped looking for reasons when it comes to the
enemy." His eyes took on a distant look.

"When your father first came
here, after the Riftwar and in the years that followed, I presumed to
think that the worst was behind us. The war with the Tsurani was over,
and the risk from the moredhel and the open rift calling back the
Valheru was at an end." He smiled a half-smile that Calis recognized as
a mirror of his own.

"I now realize that forces much more enigmatic
and far more vast than I had imagined were involved."

"What do you
mean?" asked Calis, as he sat cross-legged at his brother's feet.

"Primal forces are moving, forces next to which the Valheru are minor
annoyances. other forces move to counter them, and I fear you and I,
and those we love, may be crushed between them."

"Have these forces
names?"

"Many," said Calin.

"I speak of the gods."

"The gods' war?"

asked Calis. It is the only explanation that fits all of what we know
and still makes some sort of sense." The still-youthful-looking elf
said, "Tomas and I have talked many times

about his memories. He counts me among his oldest friends, from that
time of the first visit to Crydee. Much of what Tomas remembers is
colored by how AshenShugar saw the universe and his place in it. Some
of that was tempered by the magic Macros used to place my mind in bond
with his, ages ago, but Tomas still must rethink much of what he
presumed to be true."

"The Chaos Wars?" Calin nodded.

"We can speak of
this at length tonight, after we dine with Mother." Calis got to his
feet as his brother stood. Calis said, "I do owe her more of my time."

"It's been years since we've had you here," said Calin, without any
indictment, but clearly with regret.

"It iseasy to think we have ages,
given our people's heritage, but we both know how fragile life is."

"True," agreed Calis.

"I promise that should we endure, I will return
for a long visit."

"Why not to stay?" Calis shrugged as they walked
toward the Elf Queen's court. As they passed through a series of small
clearings, many elves who had not yet greeted the Queen's younger son
did so. Calis smiled and returned each greeting, but when the brothers
were again alone, he said, "I do not know if my place is here. My life
is neither human nor elf, nor Valheru."

"A legacy of magic,"s aid
Calin.

"You must define yourself, for no one else has the wisdom to do
it for you." He was thoughtful for a moment, then said, "Much as your
father has had to do. As long as the mark of the Valheru exists, he
will never be free of a certain suspicion."

"I understand," said Calis.

They moved into another clearing, this one loud with the voices of
children at play. A half-dozen elven youngsters were chasing after a
ball, kicking it back and forth.

"Football? In Elvandar?" asked Calis. Calin laughed.

"See those two
over there?" He pointed to twin boys, children Calis had never seen
before.

"Yes?"

"They taught the others. They are from across the sea.

Miranda brought them and their mother here. Their father
is now in the Blessed Isles."

"Have many of those across the ocean
reached us?"

"Not enough," said Calin, as he resumed the walk. The
ball shot toward them, and Calis deftly caught it on the instep of his
left boot. With a laugh, he kicked the ball high and stepped under it,
bouncing it off his head a few times, then heading it back to one of
the children, who caught it on a knee, bouncing it a few times as the
other children 'ooed' and 'ahed."

"I remember playing on Sixthday at
Crydee with Marcus when I'd visit Grandmother and Grandfather," said
Calis. The twin who caught the ball on his knee kicked it to his
brother, who passed it to a third child. The twins regarded Calis with
suspicion. He said, "You two look very serious." When they didn't
reply, Calin said, "They struggle with their natural tongue." Calis
nodded. In the dialect spoken in the Riverlands of Novindus, he said,
"You play well." Instantly both boys' faces were illumined with smiles.

"Will you teach us how to bounce the ball on our heads?" asked one.

Calis knelt and said, "I must leave first thing tomorrow, but someday I
will come back and teach you." The second twin said, "Promise?" Calis
said, "I do." The boys turned and ran off to resume their game, and
Calis turned to his brother.

"They asked me if I was telling the
truth."

"They grew up among humans. it has been very difficult
for the ocedhel. They wrestle with what is natural to us. Learning our
ways comes hard." Dryly, Calis said, "That I can understand."

"You will
resolve your struggle," said Calin, as he motioned for his brother to
continue the walk to the Queen's court, 'someday." Calis nodded, and
silently added, "If I live that long."

Ships burned at dawn. Nicholas's fleet had lost sight of the Emerald
Queen's northern squadron after sundown the night before, and had
turned south, piling on all the canvas the ships yards could hold. Two
hours later, the entire fleet had swung toward the east, and the
Straits of Darkness. They had been rewarded with the sight of fires
before dawn as they encountered smoking hulls, burned to the waterline
and sinking, both Queen's ships and Keshian. Lookouts reported fires
farther to the west. As the sun rose, Nicholas saw the vast navy that
still waited to slip through the Straits. He couldn't judge how many
had already made the difficult passage; perhaps as many as a third. To
the south, fighting was still under way as Keshian ships from Elarial
were engaged with an equal number of the Queen's warships. Captain
Reeves said, "Where are the rest of her escorts?" Nicholas shouted, "We
have her." To the lookout aloft he cried, "All ships: attack!" As the
orders were relayed, Nicholas turned to Reeves.

"We've outrun those
ships we were tangling with yesterday." He calculated.

"We have
perhaps an hour to do as much damage as possible before they come into
sight. What she's got left here are engaged with the Keshians, and the
rest of them are on the other side of the Straits!" He went to the
quarterdeck rail and shouted, "Ready ballistas." Ballista crews ran to
the fore of the ship, where a pair
of huge crossbow-like engines of war waited. Each could launch an
iron-headed missile three times the size of a man, used to strike at
the waterline, or to foul rigging. instead of the usual missile,
though, a special shaft had been designed, one filled with the deadly
Quegan fire oil. To use them was dangerous, for any mistake could
result in the Royal Dragon burning to the waterline. Behind him the
attacking fleet, forty-seven of the original sixty ships he had left
Tulan with, fanned out in attack formation. Nicholas's ship lost wind,
dropping her speed so the two flanks of the flotilla could sweep in
from either side, doing the most damage to the huge body of ships
milling in the water, almost at a dead stop, waiting for orders to
enter the passage. Nicholas shouted, "Master of Arms! Fire as you
bear!" The officer in the bow shouted back, "Aye, aye, Admiral!" Two of
the larger ships at the rear turned to engage, wallowing awkwardly, but
potentially dangerous. The lookout shouted, "They bear catapults,
Admiral!" Nicholas said, "So I see," as a huge war engine on the aft
castle of the closest ship unleashed. its cargo, a huge net of rocks.

"Port your helm, Captain Reeves."

"Aye, aye, sir," came the calm answer
as the net unraveled at the top of its arc, releasing the shower of
rocks, each the size of a man's head or bigger. The more nimble
Kingdom ship swerved to the left and the rocks splashed harmlessly to
the right of where Nicholas stood.

"That would have made a fair mess
of the rigging, sir," said Captain Reeves.

"Take us back to starboard,"
said Nicholas. The helmsman did as ordered, and the bow of the warship
swung back on line, bringing it to where it would cross to the port of
the big ship. They were close enough now that Nicholas could see the
catapult crew frantically attempting to reload.

"Bad choice," said
Nicholas.

"Takes too long to reload and the men are exposed."

As if reading his mind, bowmen in the rigging began firing on the
catapult crew on the enemy ship. The Kingdom' sRoyal Marines were
ground soldiers, yet experienced at fighting aboard ship. They used
short bows with good effect. Then the Master of Arms ordered the
starboard ballista fired and it struck the middle of the enemy ship
with a fiery explosion. Men screamed and Nicholas could see the
mid-deck was packed with soldiers, many looking sick from the months at
sea. At least a score fell over the side, partially or completely on
fire. Others frantically and vainly attempted to beat out the fire,
but discovered to their horror the secret of Quegan fire oil. Once it
was ignited, only smothering in sand could put it out. Those throwing
buckets of water on it were just spreading the flaming oil faster.

Nicholas tore his gaze from the grisly sight and looked at their
course.

"Hard to port," he said.

"It's a mess in close, and I don't
want to get stuck in there with no place to turn around. We'll keep
nibbling at the edges." orders were passed, and other ships in the
flotilla did the same, launching their fiery cargo, then turning hard
lest they become entangled with the ships they were attacking. The
lookout above shouted, "There are two war galleys backing oars in the
middle of those burning ships there, Admiral." Nicholas said, "They
want to come out and fight, but they have no room to maneuver. Let's
find something else to burn before they do find a way out." He ordered
the flotilla to a southerly course, sailing toward where the Keshians
had been battling the invaders. Smoke was beginning to obscure
Nicholas's vision.

"Lookout," , sir?"

"Keep a watch out for that
northern squadron of theirs. if you catch sight of them, I want to know
it before you can think."

"Aye, aye, sir!" For an hour they hunted. Men screamed and died, and
still the invaders' ships seemed without number. Nicholas had
personally fired four ships, and was approaching the
fifth when the lookout shouted, "Ships to the north, Admiral!"

"How
many?"

"I count at least a score of sails ... I count thirty ...
Forty."

"It's their northern element, returning to find they've been
outrun," said Captain Reeves. Nicholas swore.

"Look at all these fat
wallowing barges. We could sink them all day long without danger." Then
the lookout shouted, "Admiral! Those two war galleys have turned and
have gotten free of the sinking ships!"

"Well, that makes it
interesting," said Reeves. Nicholas nodded.

"I could use some more
time. Master of Arms?"

"Sir?" came the reply.

"How stands our
arsenal?"

"We have another forty missiles, Admiral." Nicholas shouted
to the lookout.

"How far do you judge those two ships?"

"Less than a
mile, Admiral."

"Reeves, who's to our north?" Reeves knew the Admiral
knew the disposition of the fleet as well as he did, but wanted to hear
it from another to help crystalize his thoughts.

"Sharpe's squadron,
Wells's squadron, what's left of Turner's group, and a full third of
the fast cutters." Nicholas said, "Orders! Sharpe and Wells are to
move to the north and intercept. I want them to harry and delay, but
not to engage." The lookout shouted, "Understood," and started
signaling. Then I want the cutters to burn those galleys!"

Nicholas knew he was sending several of those fast little ships to the
bottom. They had limited offensive capacity, but if two or three could
get close enough, they could fire those war galleys, while the
Kingdom-class warships could each sink three dozen troop shipseach
under ideal conditions. Acknowledged, sir." shouted the lookout as
the first order was received. The carnage continued throughout the
morning, and at an hour before noon, word came that the concentration
of enemy warships was too heavy. The northern element of the Queen's
fleet had ignored Wells's and Sharpe's squadrons when it became clear
they wouldn't engage. Now they were bearing down on the heart of the
fighting. Nicholas saw that the cutters had one of the huge war galleys
burning and another surrounded. The concentration of bow fire from the
galleys was incredible, a veritable rain of arrows, and these ships
manned ballistas. With calm precision, their crews would reload and
fire, and each time another of the small cutters was damaged or sunk
Nicholas took one last look at the damage he had done, then said,
"Captain Reeves, it's time to run for Freeport!" Captain Reeves did not
hesitate, for he could see another huge war galley that had followed
the first two out of the mess of troop ships, now rowing furiously in
their direction. Captain Reeves gave orders to the helmsman, and
Nicholas shouted, "Master of Arms," Sir," came the reply, hoarse from
hours of breathing the stinking smoke of burning oil.

"As we bear, I
would appreciate your putting a missile down the throat of that galley
that's racing toward us."

"Aye, aye, sir." As the ship heeled, the
ballista was fired, and the fiery projectile hurled across the gap,
striking the forecastle of the approaching galley. Flames exploded
across the upper third of the ship's bow, but only those men on deck
were
killed. Below, the horator steadily beat his drum and the galley
slaves pulled as the ship bore relentlessly down on the Royal Dragon.

Nicholas calculated and decided they were unlikely to get clear of the
ship.

"Lookout!"

"Aye, sir?"

"Does she bear a ram?"

"An iron-clad one,
sir, at the waterline."

"Well, Reeves," said Nicholas.

"Unless we get a sudden burst of wind,
I'm afraid I'm about to get your ship sunk."

"Always a risk, sir," came
the impassive reply. The men stood calmly watching as the huge warship
bore down on them, its bow now completely engulfed in fire. Reeves
looked up and shouted, "Trim the topgallants, Mr. Brooks." His first
officer shouted the order, and men quickly tied off ropes and moved
yards. The Royal Dragon heeled over, hard to port, as the galley bore
down. Nicholas could feel the heat of the flames across the narrowing
gap. Ms marines began firing down into the deck of the enemy ship.

"Master of Arms!" cried Nicholas. 'sir."

"See if your marines can
distract their helmsman!"

"Aye, sir!" Without waiting for the order to
be relayed, those bowmen aloft started peppering the rear of the enemy
ship with arrows. Nicholas didn't know if they could see the enemy
helmsman, but he thought it likely an incoming fusillade might cause
him to duck and lose hold of the helm. Even a deviation of course by a
few yards might spare the Royal Dragon. Nicholas watched in mute
fascination as the enemy ship bore down relentlessly on his ship. He
could hear the faint thud of the horator's drum from below decks as he
shifted tempo, and he knew the call for ramming speed had been

given.

"I think you'd best grab on to something solid, Captain
Reeves."

"Aye, sir." Then the Royal Dragon moved, slightly, and heeled
over even more, as the wind freshened. Whether it was the incoming
arrows, or the blinding smoke from the flaming bow of his own ship, the
steersman on the galley did not compensate for the speed of his target.

The grind of steel against metal accompanied the sight of the Royal
Dragon's helmsman being flung from his wheel as the other ship's ram
struck hard into the tiller of the Kingdom ship. A low grinding
continued and the flames from the galley fired the Dragon's spanker.

"Fire stations, Captain Reeves," said Nicholas evenly.

"Sir," said the
captain. He started shouting orders, and the crew raced toward the
buckets of sand. Men aloft started cutting away rigging to loose the
flaming sail. As if being pushed along, the Royal Dragon jumped
forward, and another sailor hurried to grab the helm as the helmsman
lay stunned.

"Well, Reeves," said Nicholas, 'it seems providence may
be with us for a moment."

"Sir," said the captain, relief on his face
as the two ships separated.

"I hope we don't come that close again any
time
soon."

"Agreed' said Nicholas, then his eyes widened. He looked down
to see the shaft of an arrow protruding from his stomach, and blood
beginning to flow down his white trousers.

"Oh, damn," he said. His
knees gave way. A flight of arrows struck the rigging above their heads
as the marines from an enemy ship nearby launched a random attack on
the Dragon, hoping to strike anyone. Captain Reeves shouted, "I want
best speed," Men flew through the rigging and the Kingdom fleet
disengaged itself from the struggle.

"Get the Admiral below." Reeves
shouted. A short time later, Nicholas lay on his bunk with the
ship's chirurgeon attending to the wound. Captain Reeves entered and
said, "How is he?" The chirurgeon said, "Bad, sir. I fear the worst.

If we can keep him alive until we reach Freeport, a healing priest may
be able to save him. But he's beyond my meager talents." The captain
nodded and returned to the quarterdeck,

where his first officer waited.

"Mr. Brooks?"

"We lost the Prince of
Krondor, the Royal Sudft, and a score of the cutters. We estimate we
sank thirty or more of their cargo ships, and a half-dozen of their war
galleys." Reeves glanced to the stern, where the enemy fleet was now a
low black mass on the horizon.

"Is there no end to them?"

"Apparently
not, sir." The first officer asked, "How is the Admiral?"

"Touch and
go."

"Can we turn to Tulan?"

"No, we must make best speed for Freeport.

Those are the orders."

"But the Admiral?" Reeves said, "Those are his
orders." He sighed.

"We wait a week in Freeport, then we head to
Krondor." Softly he said, "Those are the orders."

"What then?"

"I don't
know. Until Lord Nicholas recovers, everything rests in Lord Vykor's
hands in Krondor." The first officer saw how troubled the captain was,
and felt the same. Prince Nicholas, youngest son of Prince Arutha, had
been Admiral of the Prince's Fleet, supreme commander of the Royal Navy
in the West, as long as either could remember. He was the man who held
the fleet together and, more, he was royalty, the King's youngest
brother. For him to die on any captain's watch would be difficult
enough, but for him to die when the Kingdom needed her fleet at its
best was tragic.

Reeves, who was Nicholas's second in command, said, "Orders to the
fleet. I'm taking command. Pass word of the Prince's injury. Then
order best speed for Freeport."

"Aye, sir."

Nakor studied Pug.)Calis asked, "Will he wake soon?"

"Maybe. Maybe
not. Who can say?" The Isalani watched as his student continued to
administer the healing energies, aided by the Spellweavers of Elvandar.

Nakor had dined with Calis, Calin, and their mother the night before,
and they had discussed the best course of action. Nakor had agreed to
ride with Calin to Crydee, where they would use the Tsurani transport
device to get to Krondor. Sho Pi would remain behind in Elvandar and
continue to help heal Pug.

"I wish I knew what was going on in there,"
said Nakor.

"In where?" asked Calis.

"In Pug's ~d. Something is
happening, and only the gods know what it is."

Pug floated in a void, and again he knew he was detached from his body.

Only this time he had none of the references he had possessed when he
had been aided by the elven Spellweavers. He did not even know how he
had come into the void. The last thing he remembered was preparing to
attack the fleet of the Emerald Queen. Then there had been a blinding
flash and he had found himself floating. He also had some sense that
time was passing, but he couldn't tell how long he had been here. In
the void there was no way to orient himself, either in space or time.

Then a voice came: Greetings. Pug spoke with his mind. Who is there?

Suddenly Pug was someplace else, a realm of shadows but still without
any physical frame of reference. Mountainous figures, headwarfing him
to insignificance, ringed his
position. They were near enough that he could sense how large they
were, but distant enough that he could apprehend their overall shape.

They were roughly human in form, but that was a generous use of the
term human. Each rested upon a gigantic throne. P'ug sensed these
figures were living, though they resembled nothing so much as figures
carved from a dark rock of unknown nature. Pug attempted to see detail,
but it was as if his mind would not hold the image of what he saw. He
turned from figure to figure, and as he thought he recognized a
detail,

it would flee.

"Who spoke?" he asked aloud, but no words echoed in the
air. He heard his voice in his own mind, but the sound was absent. A
figure emerged from the surrounding gloom, a figure robed in black.

Pug waited patiently as the figure approached, and at last she removed
a veil that hid her features. Pug asked, "Do I know you?"

"We have met
once before, magician,"came the icy voice, and Pug felt physical pain
as it ran through him like a frozen blade.

"Lims-Kragma!" he said. The
Goddess nodded. Pug looked around and said, "But this is not your
realm."

"Everything is within my realm, eventually," said the Goddess
of Death.

"But it is not the place of our previous meeting, magician'
"Who are these mountainous figures?" The Goddess held out her hand.

"These are the Seven Who Control." Pug nodded.

"Where are we?"

"We are
in the realm of the gods," said the Goddess.

"This is what you thought
you saw when you sought to tear Macros the Black from within the mind
of Sarig." She waved her hand and a faint image of the Celestial City
sprang up, surrounding the lower third of the

mountainous seven Greater Gods.

"But that, like this, is simply
another level of perception. Despite your powers, nearly unmatched for
a mortal, you have not the ability to truly apprehend our reality." Pug
nodded.

"What am I doing here?"

"You are here to make a decision."

what?"

"To live or to die." Pug said, "Is that a decision to be made?"

"For you, magician." She placed her hand upon his shoulder and, rather
than discomfort, he felt a strangely soothing touch.

"You will never
enter my realm unbidden, for to you has fallen a curse."

"A curse?"

"You will not realize it at first, but eventually you will know it for
what it is."

"I don't understand." The Goddess put slight pressure on
Pug's shoulder and walked him forward slightly. Other figures came
into view and Pug could see that most of them stood motionless, with
eyes closed. one or two had their eyes open and regarded them as they
passed.

"This is the closest a mortal may come to viewing the gods, Pug
of Crydee." Pug glanced at the Goddess and saw that she again looked as
she had when he and Tomas had first visited her hall years before, but
smaller. On that visit she had towered over them both.

"How is it this
time we are of equal size?"

"It is a function of perception," she said,
stepping away from him. Instantly she towered over him as she had
before.

"Now look at the Controllers." Pug did, and all he could see
were the foundations of the Greater Gods' thrones; they appeared a
distant range of peaks, nothing more, their tops lost in the dim sky.

Then the Goddess returned Pug to the size he had been when they first
met.

"What have you to say to me?" he asked.

"You are at a nexus. You have
three choices. You may release your hold on life now, and enter my
realm. You will be rewarded for the good that you have accomplished.

Or you may choose eternal life."

"As did Macros?"

"Macros makes
assumptions about his existence that are not valid. The sorcerer's
fate is not what he thinks it to be."

"You said I have three choices?"

"The third is that you can escape the
curse and return to living now, but you shall know the loss of those
you love, the pain of thousands, and the sting of bitter failure at the
end of your life. You will die in futility." Pug said, "You paint
three difficult alternatives."

"I will tell you this, Pug," said the
Goddess.

"Your position in our universe is unique. Macros unlocked
your potential as a baby, before leaving you where you would be found.

He ensured that your Tsurani training would be modified, so that you
would return to the Greater Magic of Midkemia- and he saw to it that
you survived the Riftwar. Because of the sorcerer's interference over
the centuries, you play a role far more critical than your birth would
have predicted. You stand poised to shake pillars upon which gods
rest. This cannot go unnoticed.

"But in doing this, he also created
other situations, ones you know nothing of. And as a result you must
eventually pay the price for his meddling. And at the end of your
life, that price will be terrible." Pug didn't hesitate.

"You leave me
no choice. A terrible foe stands on the brink of destroying everything
I love. I must live."

"Then I will help you live. You will know
things, and you must act." She placed her hand upon his face, covering
his eyes. Suddenly Pug felt the void around him tear, and a great Pain
shot through his body.

He sat up, a dry scream ripping from his throat. Nakor held him.

"Drink this." A bitter brew of herbs touched his lips, and Pug drank
deeply. He blinked and found his entire body throbbed with pain.

Nakor said, "This will lessen your suffering." Pug focused his rid and
the pain subsided.

"I can deal with pain," he said-and his voice was a
stranger's.

"Help me to my feet." Sho Pi, Calis, Calin, and Aglaranna
stood nearby as the magician got to legs shaky with weakness. A robe
was brought, and Pug said, "I seem to be the worse for wear."

"You will
heal," said Nakor.

"A good healing priest can even rid you of the
scars." He touched the magician's cheek.

"Though it seems you're
managing well enough on your own. Someday we must talk about your
abilities." Pug smiled and his face hurt.

"Sometimes I think the same
of you." Nakor also smiled.

"We came to take a last look at you before
saying farewell."

"Good. Where were you going?" Calis said, "Nakor and
I are bound for Crydee. Anthony has one of the old Tsurani transport
orbs, and we are going to use that to get to Krondor." Pug said, "Let
me rest this day and tomorrow we'll all three go straight to Krondor."

He glanced around.

"How long since I was injured?"

"Two months," said
Nakor.

"What's the date?"

"Two days past Banapis," said Calis.

"Then
the Emerald Queen's fleet ... ?"

"At the Straits of Darkness," answered
the Elf Queen's younger son.

"Anthony gave me a viewing lens made from
air, and we watched." Pug said, "Miranda? Macros?" He glanced at the
group.

"Tomas?"

"When you were injured they went to look for answers
under the Ratn'gari Mountains," said Calis.

"Will you join them?" Pug
said, "I don't think so. You and I need to go somewhere else.."

"Krondor?"

"First, then we must go to Sethanon."

Calis said, "I have much to do before I set foot in Sethanon."

"No,"
said Pug.

"You must go with me to Sethanon."

"How do you know?" asked
Calis. Pug said, "I have no answer. I just know this to be true."

Looking at the Elf Queen, he bowed.

"Lady, when your husband returns,
please let him know that is where we will be." Aglaranna nodded.

"First you must eat and rest. You've been kept alive by magic arts and
your body is not strong."

"A fact I am painfully aware of," said Pug,
as his eyes rolled up and he collapsed into Nakor's arms.

Consciousness returned slowly, but at last Pug awoke, finding Sho Pi
sitting watch with him.

"How long?"

"Another day, a night, and most of
this day." Pug sat up. his skin itched and his muscles protested, but
he found that while still weak, he no longer felt unable to function.

He rose unsteadily and looked around. He ran his hand over his chin
and felt the stubble of beard returning. He had been moved to a small
room, carved from within the bole of a huge oak, and found, stepping
beyond a heavy curtain, that it opened into the private garden of the
Queen and Tomas. Aglaranna sat with her two sons, in calm discussion.

Calin said, "Welcome." Pug sat down slowly, allowing Sho Pi to hold his
elbow.

"My thanks for all you've done," said ]Plug.

"We only aid those
who are fighting to preserve this,"

said the Queen, motioning with her hand to indicate all of Elvandar.

"A
bit more than that," said Nakor, entering the glade.

"The entire
world." The Elf Queen said, "For the eledhel, Elvandar is the world."

Nakor sat down next to Pug and regarded him.

"You'll live."

"Thank
you. I needed the reassurance," said Pug dryly. Nakor laughed.

"When
do we leave for Krondor?" Pug glanced at the falling light.

"It's
evening there already. We should leave first thing tomorrow."

"Another
night's rest will help you," said Sho Pi.

"Besides, Nakor," said Pug,
'you and I need to discuss some things." Calis said, "Such as?" Pug
said, "Some things, I am sorry to say, must remain between Nakor and
I." Calis shrugged.

"That's as it should be. But I will be glad to
return to Krondor. There is still a great deal left to do." Pug said,
"You must go to Sethanon." Calis's gaze narrowed.

"I have duties."

"Be
that as it may, you must be in Sethanon."

"My father?" asked Calis.

"He
may have something to do with this, but I think it is something only
you are capable of seeing done."

"What is that?" asked the Queen. Pug
sighed.

"I don't know." Nakor laughed, a loud, long guffaw.

"That
sounds like something I would say." Plug shrugged.

"I can't say how I
know, Calis, but you must be in Sethanon at the end. And you can't
risk not getting there. Which means we cannot have you in the battle.

You must go straight to Sethanon now." Calis looked torn. Pug and
his father were nearly legendary figures, men whose wisdom and power
were

undoubted, but he had seen to the forging of the Prince's defenses, as
much as William, James, or the others.

"But there are so many things
for me to do."

"There are many men to do those things," said Nakor,

'but if Pug is right, there is only one man who must be at Sethanon
when the battle ends."

"Why?" asked Calis.

"We will know when the time
comes," said Nakor with his nearly ever-present grin.

"All will be
made known to us.p Calis said, "What of the others my father, Macros,
and Miranda?" Nakor shrugged.

"They have their own concerns, I am
sure."

Macros said, "Whenever I think I've seen everything there is to see,
something new and perplexing shows up." Miranda and Tomas were forced
to agree as the demon shifted its weight uncomfortably upon the ground.

They had been communicating with it constantly since it had spoken,
and had revealed problems. The demon itself appeared to be nearly
mindless, but some other intelligence was in control. The problem was
that this intelligence was limited in how much of the demon's nature it
could stem. Twice Macros and Miranda had been forced to restrain the
creature and listen to it howl in rage for days. But at the end of a
month of give-and-take, all parties had arrived at a clear
understanding. The demon was controlled by a being named Hanam, a Saaur
Lorekeeper from the Saaur home-world of Shila. Between the four of them
Macros, Hanam, Miranda, and Tomas ~ they had pieced together a
picture of events. A dark power, vaguely known to Macros and Miranda,
but whose name was hidden from them, had influenced the priests of a
city called Ahsart, manipulating them into

opening an ancient barrier between the demon realm and this one. The
demons had come into the world of Shila, destroying an ancient empire
and everyone in it. The Pantathians had shown up in providential
fashion, offering the remaining Saaur refuge on Midkemia in exchange
for a generations service, thirty Midkemian years. For half that time
the Saaur had been growing in power on the continent of Novindus, then
aiding the Emerald Queen in conquering the entire continent in
anticipation of this attack on the Kingdom. Miranda sighed.

"We have,
it seems to me, two options."

"Which are?" asked Tomas.

"Reveal the
betrayal of the Saaur by the Pantathians, allowing them an honorable
avenue to withdraw from the war, or find this entrance from the demon
realm and close it." Tomas said, "We must do both." Macros said, "I do
not like this choice, but Tomas is right."

"Can we do one, then the
other?" asked Miranda. The voice of the demon still sounded like
grinding rock, but Hanam said, "The demons' King, Maarg, rages and has
destroyed many of his own in frustration. He does not know the
Pantathians have ceased to exist as a force." Pointing with a clawed
talon toward a distant tunnel, he said, "The rift between Shila and
this world is but a half day s walk from here. But on the other side
of that rift waits Tugor and his minions." The demon stretched his
arms, now reaching nine feet from talon to talon, and said, "I am half
his size, and I lack his demon's cunning." Tomas said, "A demon lord I
can best."

"But it's the numbers," said Macros.

"Save the Demon King
himself, none of that realm is the match of any single one of us." He
glanced at his daughter.

"Including you, I think, if you keep your
wits."

"Thank you for that," she said dryly.

"But a dozen or more of them at once.. Macros shook his head.

"That's a different matter." Tomas said, "We delay, yet every day we
spend here makes this a more difficult set of tasks." Macros said,
"There are times when strength aids and times when stealth does." He
held up one finger.

"Tomas, you are vital to the defense of Sethanon.

I suggest you and Hanam attempt to divert the Saaur." Tomas said, "Can
we get close enough to .. ." He glanced
at Hanam for a name.

"Jatuk, son of Jarwa." '.. . Jatuk to let him
know of the betrayal?"

"And will he believe a demon and a Valheru?"

Macros shrugged. Hanam said, "If I can get him to listen, I know things
only the Loremaster of the Saaur would know. If I can speak to Shadu,
my student who took my place, I know I can convince him it is his old
master who resides in this body."

"What of you?" asked Tomas. Macros
said, "My daughter and I need to close the pathway between the demon
realm and here. Eventually Maarg will deduce he has been betrayed by
one of those he sent through, even if he doesn't know which captain it
is."

"Once Maarg realizes he's been betrayed," said Hanam, 'his rage
will be without equal. He will launch a blind attack through the rift,
ignoring however many of his servants die for the effort, but once he
has reached this world, the outcome will be the same as it was on
Shila. Eventually, you will all go to the feasting pits." Tomas said,
"Do they suspect what is waiting at Sethanon?" One of the longest
debates that had gone on between Tomas and Macros had been over how
much to tell the Saaur Loremaster. Eventually it had been necessary to
tell him everything.

"No," said Hanam.

"Jakan knows only that he took over an army in the
middle of a war of conquest and destruction. That is as much his nature
as anything else. He eats one of his own every night to keep up his
power, and his men think they still go to the arms of the Emerald
Queen.

"I suspect his it ion is to devour this world and eventually
return to challenge Maarg. But if he should find this Lifestone he may
attempt to seize it, thinking it a great prize. Who knows what may
happen then?" Macros sighed.

"We are decided. Tomas, you must take
our taloned friend here and convince his former student to listen."

"There is one other thing," said the Loremaster in demon form. what?,
"You must destroy me as soon as Jatuk is convinced. For this body and
mind are a struggle to control, and I do not know how much longer I can
maintain my dominance of them. It was long in gaining, but it may be
over quickly."

"Wonderful," said Miranda, as she stood. Macros said,
"We will first find the rift into Shila, then we will cross over into
that world and find the entrance in the city of Ahsart. And close
that."

"Unfortunately," said Hanam, 'there is one thing you're
overlooking."

"What is that?"

"Maarg may be already on the world of
Shila; if so, to close the entrance to the demon realm, you will first
have to kill the Demon King." Macros looked at his daughter, and
neither could think of anything to say.

FOURTEEN

Betrayal

Roo frowned. Jason continued to run down their losses which had
resulted from the huge burden of debt they assumed to lend gold to the
Crown.

"And now he wants more," said Roo Jason said, "I don't know how
we can raise more gold to lend the Duke. We would have to sell off
some of our more profitable concerns, and that would increase our
problems with cash flow." He shook his head.

"Can you
find someone else to lend the gold to the Duke?" Roo laughed.

"Well,
perhaps I can convince Jacob Esterbrook to join me." He knew it was
futile. The few times he had dined with Jacob he had been carefully
deflected from any discussion of Jacob's aiding the Kingdom in the
coming battle. still, there were others, and Roo set about seeing what
he could do.

"I'm going to be out for the rest of the day," he told
Jason.

"Would you send a message to my wife saying I may be in the
city a few more days." Jason-jotted down a note.

"Then see what Duncan
is up to and have him meet me here at five of the dock. And I'd like
Luis here, too."

"Where will you be until then?" Roo smiled.

"Getting
the Duke some money. I'll be at Barret's by three of the dock, and
afterward I'll return here. Until then I'm out and about." Roo took a
cloak, a light one for fashion, as the day was

hot, and he wore a broad-brimmed hat with a stylish yellow plume and a
very rich pair of riding boots. He carried his old sword at his belt.

He stepped into the busy streets of Krondor and turned to admire Avery
and Son. He often paused to regard the huge warehouse he had converted
to his business headquarters. He had purchased the land around the
warehouse and had built office buildings attached to the warehouse, and
now his wagons filled the great yard. He turned and headed out to make
his first call on a banker who, while not a friend, at least owed him a
favor.

I need the gold," said Duke James.

"I know. m'lord," answered Roo,
'but there's no more gold to be had."

"There's always more." said Duke
James. Roo noticed he looked fatigued, with heavy circles under his
eyes, as if he hadn't been sleeping much lately. The tension in the
city was mounting and rumors of war were circulating. The word of a
great sea battle at Banapis off the Straits of Darkness had been
carried into the city the day before. and now ships were overdue from
the Free Cities and Far Coast. Roo said, "If you raise taxes, perhaps
you can squeeze a bit more from the tradesmen and farmers. but the
business community is very nervous now. Much of the gold you're
talking about has been bleeding to the East for the last few months."

"No small part of it yours," said the Duke, slamming his hand on the
table. Roo's eyes widened.

"I've done nothing any man in my situation
wouldn't have done, m'lord," Roo's words were hot and for an instant he
almost forgot who he was talking to, but he had his anger in check, if
barely.

"I have given you every copper piece it is prudent for me to
give. If I give you more, you'll kill the cow for the milk."

James looked at the small man.

"Then we kill the cow. I need another
month's worth of stores and arms, and I need them yesterday." Roo
sighed.

"I'm going to dine with Jacob Esterbrook tonight, and I'll see
what I can squeeze out of him." James looked at Roo for a long, silent
minute.

"He'll better you at this point."

"How do you mean?"

"He'll
know you need to raise gold quickly and he'll want
something you don't want to sell him." Roo considered that for a
moment.

"If this army isn't defeated, nothing I have will be of
importance. If I have to take a loss now, what does it matter?" He
stood up.

"If I have your leave, I need to be back at Barret's by
three of the clock, and I still have two other stops to make. I must
set a few things up." As Roo bowed and turned to the door, James said,
"Rupert?"

"What, m'lord?" asked the little man, turning to regard the
Duke.

"Have you many holdings in Landreth and Shamata?"

"Both, Your
Grace." James measured his words.

"You might do well to move whatever
you have of worth to the north side of the Sea of Dreams."

"Why, my
lord?"

"Just a thought," said the Duke, returning his attention to the
papers he had been reviewing when Roo had arrived. Roo let himself out.

In the outer office of James's secretary hung a large wall map of the
Western Realm. Roo glanced at it, at the area around the Sea of
Dreams. The Vale of Dreams had been in Kingdom hands for almost a
hundred years, but had long been an area of dispute between the Kingdom
and Great Kesh. Roo touched the map, at Land's End. There was the
westernmost Kingdom outpost on the shore of the Bitter Sea. To the
northeast of

it lay a small inlet, called Shandon Bay. A small town, Dacadia, was
the only population of size between Land's End and the Sea of Dreams.

He traced his finger along a line of hills that moved eastward from the
coast, south of Land's End, to a point where it met the river that
linked the Bitter sea and the Sea of Dreams. Then Roo looked at the
surrounding countryside, from the Great Star Lake and Stardock, back up
the river to the Sea of Dream . To the east of the Great Star Lake,
the mountains called the Grey Range rose up. Suddenly Roo's eyes
opened.

"He wouldn't." James's personal secretary said, "What, sir?"

Roo laughed.

"Never mind." As he left the office of the Duke of
Krondor, Roo said, "By damn, I bet he did." With what was close to a
dance step, Roo hurried down the stairs leading from the palace to the
courtyard where a lackey was holding his horse. He took the reins, and
as he turned his mount to the gate of the palace, he glanced around at
the very busy marshalling yard and wondered where Erik was. He hadn't
seen him since Banapis, and he was starting to worry about his friend.

Then his mood darkened as he considered that it was only a few more
weeks before this city was in the grip of war. Putting heels to his
mount, Roo moved toward the gate and threw a lazy salute to the
lieutenant who command d there. The young soldier returned it, for Roo
Avery was a common sight at the palace and was known to be a friend of
the Duke. Which, along with his vast wealth, made him one of Krondor's
most important men.

Jacob Esterbrook said, "Have you given any thought to my offer?" Roo
smiled.

"Considerable." He decided the best tack to take with his
business rival was to tell him what he already knew, as if being frank.

"I have lent considerable gold to

the Crown, for this coming war, and as a result I find myself somewhat
cash-poor." Sylvia smiled at Roo, as if everything he said was of vital
importance. He returned her smile.

"I'm not in a position to
negotiate on behalf of the Bitter Sea Company without
consulting my partners, but I think whatever I might agree to here
would be agreeable to them after I explain the way things are." He
paused to finish his last bite of dinner and dabbed at the corner of
his mouth.

"But I can certainly divest myself of any assets of Avery
and Son, and there are several that might serve you as well as those
we've discussed." Jacob smiled.

"You have a counteroffer?"

"In a word,
yes," Roo said.

"Since you seem to have a stranglehold on trade to
Kesh, I'm considering abandoning my wagon yards in Shamata and my boat
facility in Port Shamata. Both are fine facilities, but neither has
realized me a coin of profit since I took them over, as you probably
know." He said the last with a rueful laugh.

"Well, I do keep abreast
of business to the south. I have enjoyed a long and profitable
relationship with several prominent Keshian business concerns." Jacob
pushed his chair back from the table as a servant hurried over to help
him up.

"My knees are not doing well. This weather, I think. When
the sky is clear and things are hot and dry, they're almost as painful
as when there's rain coming." Roo nodded as he stood.

"Would you be
interested in those facilities?" he asked.

"I'm always interested,
Rupert, in increasing my holdings. It is merely a matter of price." Roo
smiled.

"As it should be." Jacob said, "Let us retire to the garden
for brandy and then I'll leave you to my daughter after that; I can't
keep the late hours I used to." They moved outside, under a warm and
star-filled night.

The garden was fragrant with the blooms of summer, and the night birds
and crickets sang. Roo sniffed his brandy. He was beginning to develop
a taste for the distilled wine, but he still couldn't tell one from
Kesh from one that was produced in Darkmoor, though he could t fquality like this one from the poor swill Lord Vasarius served. This
one was pungent, tasted as much of wood as any he had tried so far, and
gave him a pleasantly warm feeling inside, and the subtle taste of
grape and wood lingered in his mouth for long minutes after he
swallowed. Sylvia sat next to Roo, absently letting her hand rest upon
his leg, while her father said, "Why don't you prepare a list of
particulars and send it over tomorrow?"

"I will do that," said Roo.

"And as far as the properties here in Krondor you've inquired after,
there are a few that I might be willing to part with, for the same
reason I'm looking to get rid of those in Shamata."

"What about
Landreth?" Roo shrugged.

"Well, I do manage a little trading from the
north shore of the Sea of Dreams to Krondor, so they show a better
profit. That, too, would depend on price." They talked for an hour
about business, and then Jacob rose and said, "I must to bed. If you'd
like, stay and have another brandy. Sylvia will entertain you until
you leave. Good night, Rupert." The old man left the garden, and after
they were alone, Sylvia ran her hand up Roo's leg. -"Shall I entertain
you?" she asked playfully. Roo put down his brandy glass and kissed
her. After a moment, he said, "Let's go upstairs."

"No," she said, "I
want to stay here."

"In the garden?" he asked.

"Why not?" she said,
unfastening her bodice.

"It's warm and I don't want to wait." They
made love under the stars, and when they were

done, Sylvia lay upon the grass beside Roo, her head on his chest.

"You've not been coming around enough, Roo."

Roo was jolted out of his pleasant half-dream state and said, "Things
are getting frantic."

"I hear there is war coming," said Sylvia.

"A lot
of people are saying that."

"Is it true?" Roo considered what he should
say next. At last he said, "It's true, I think, though I don't know if
it's any time soon. But you should consider going East if you hear of
trouble in Krondor."

"Krondor?" she said, playfully nipping his
shoulder.

"I thought Kesh was moving again."

"It is," said Roo, trying
to tell her the truth, he loved her and wanted her safe, but he didn't
entirely trust her because of her loyalty to her father.

"But this
time I don't think they're going to move in the Vale." He considered
what that would do to his negotiations with Jacob. He decided it
wouldn't hurt, so he decided to embellish.

"You know Lord Vykor was
called from Rillanon to Krondor."

"Who's he?" said Sylvia. Roo wondered
if she really didn't know or just wanted to make him feel important.

He ran his hand down her naked hip and decided it didn't matter.

"He's
the King's Admiral of the Eastern Fleet. He's lurking down in the Bay
of Salts, with a huge flotilla, so that when Kesh sails out of Durbin,
he can ambush it. Prince Nicholas took a large squadron to the west,
out beyond the Straits, and will sail in behind the Keshians." Sylvia
started playing with the hair on Roo's chest.

"I heard he was going
out to meet a treasure fleet." Roo then realized she knew a great deal
more than she had ever revealed. Finding his ardor dying, he said, "I
must go home, I'm sorry to say."

"Oh." She pouted.

"Sorry, but there is the matter of gathering the documents your father
wants." He dressed while she lay nude upon the grass, looking beautiful
in the light of the large moon. When he was finished, she stood and
kissed him.

"Well, if you must run off, you must. Will I see you
tomorrow?" Roo said, "Impossible, but perhaps the night after."

"Well,
I'm going to bed and I'll think of you as I lie in my sheets," she
said, running her hand down his stomach.

"You're making this
difficult," he groaned. She laughed.

"Well, you make my life
difficult. How can I think of another man when I have you in my life?"

She kissed him and said, "My father wants to know why I don't marry.

He wants grandchildren." Roo said, "I know. It's impossible." She
said, "Perhaps the gods will be kind and someday we'll be together."

Roo said, "I must go." He left and she gathered up her gown. Rather
than dressing, she carried her clothing through the house, and when she
reached her room, she dumped it on the floor. A soft moan from her bed
caused her to smile and she crossed over in the dark, to find two
figures entwined on the covers. She slapped the maid hard across her
bare buttocks and the girl yelped in surprise. Duncan Avery looked up
at Sylvia in the pale light coming through the window and smiled.

"Hello, my darling," he said with a rakish smile.

"We got bored
waiting for you." Sylvia pushed the maid to one side and told her,
"Pick up my clothes and take them to the laundry." The girl regarded
her mistress with an expressionless mask and slid out of bed. She
picked up her own clothes and her mistress's and hurried out of the
room, closing the door behind her.

RAGE OF A DEMON KING 3II I

Sylvia reached down and stroked Duncan, saying, "Well, at least she got
you ready."

"I'm always ready," he said, kissing her on the neck. She
pushed him back and straddled him, saying, "I need you to do me a
service."

"Anything," he said as they gazed into each other's eyes.

"I
know," she cooed as she leaned over and kissed him.

"You smell like
grass," he observed.

"No doubt," she said.

"I was entertaining your cousin on the lawn."

Duncan laughed.

"It would kill him to know you've gone from his arms
to mine. He takes this sort of business far too seriously." Sylvia
reached down and gripped his face, letting her fingernails dig into his
cheeks a bit.

"And you had better, as well, my aroused peacock, I'm
going to make you wealthy beyond your dreams." She knew she needed a
man to be the public head of her father's and Roo's companies, and
Duncan was stupid enough for her to control for years. When she got
bored with hbix she could dispose of him with ease. Ignoring the pain,
Duncan said "I like wealth."

"Now, about that service." what?"

"I need
you to kill your sister-in-law." Duncan was silent for a minute as his
breathing became heavy. Finally he said, "When?"

"Within the week."

T^Y?,

"So I can marry Roo, you fool." she said as her own pleasure was
mounting.

"How is your marrying my cousin going to make me rich?" asked
Duncan. Suddenly Sylvia arched her back and shuddered, then collapsed
on top of Duncan as he matched her passion. After a long silent moment,
he said, "How is marrying'

"I heard you," she interrupted him. How like him, she thought. Not
willing to wait even a moment to let her linger in her pleasure.

Finally she rolled off him and said, "Because, after an appropriate
period, we'll make me Rupert's widow. And then, after an appropriate
period of mourning, you and I can wed." Duncan laughed and grabbed her
hair roughly, pulling her head around without a hint of gentleness.

"You are a woman to admire," he said, biting her on the lip playfully.

"No soft romantic notions for you, my darling." He rolled her over and
looked her in the eyes.

"I like the notion of a marriage based on
greed. That's something I can understand." Good," said Sylvia,
slapping him across the face, almost hard enough to hurt.

"Just so we
continue to understand each other." Sylvia lay back as Duncan began to
arouse her again, and she thought his usefulness as a public head of
the house, as well as his talents in bed, were equally balanced by his
boorish behavior. Starting with the maid before she got here was
unforgivable. She would punish the girl in the morning for not
pointing that out to Duncan. She might not have a shred of jealousy in
her makeup, but she insisted on obedience and she had not given the two
of them permission. She sighed and shivered as he began exploring her
body, and thought, a year or two; she could put up with Duncan for a
year or two before getting him out of the way. Then she would have to
look for a young noble, perhaps that irritating grandson of the Duke
who had been so resistant to her advances. He might be a welcome
challenge. But whoever it was, she would have a title before she was
done. She might even consent to have a brat or two for a baron or
earl; it might prove necessary. She considered the price of losing her
firm body to motherhood and wondered if there were potions or other
magics that would keep her
looking as she did now. Women had wondered that for years. Then she
thought, why just an earl? Why not a duke? That Dashel who worked for
Rupert had a brother, didn't he? And eventually he would rise to rank,
perhaps that of Duke. Then she wondered if he would be easier than his
brother had been to charm, or if he would prove a challenge. As Duncan
kissed her stomach she thought, that's what
she needed. Another challenge. All the men presently in her life were
so predictable. As she closed her eyes and arched her back she
thought, the Prince is still unwed.

Pug materialized near the shore, where a group of students were
listening to Chalmes lecture on magic. The master magician stopped
when he saw who the three men were, for Pug a brought along Nakor and
Sho Pi. Pug's outer appearance seemed different, he was thinner, and
his hair and beard were short, as if just growing in. There was also a
tired quality about his movement.

"M'lord," said Chalmes to Pug, 'this
is as unexpected as your last appearance." Pug said, "There are matters
of grave importance we must discuss. Gather the other leaders in the
conference chamber. I will be along in a moment." If the magician who
was now the leader of the community objected to being ordered this way,
he hid it masterfully. He put his hand over his heart in a Keshian
gesture and said, "It will be done, m'lord." Nakor looked at the
students who sat with astonished wonder and said, "Shoo," They quickly
departed, leaving the three men standing alone. They had transported
into Krondor with Calin, whom Pug had left behind for a while, to
oversee the coming defense of the city until such time as Pug came for
him. Pug's grandson Arutha had managed to indicate he

desperately needed to speak to him, so Pug felt the need to return
quickly to the Prince's city.

"You know what to do?" asked Pug.

"Certainly," said Nakor.

"I don't know if I like this, but I can see
why it's necessary." Pug shrugged.

"If we survive these next few
months, we'll worry about What's happening here. Unless you've got a
better plan?" Nakor rubbed his chin.

"I don't know. I might have
something, but either way we must do this other thing first."

"Well,
then, be off with you!" said Pug with a laugh.

"When this is over, get
horses and head for Sethanon. I don't think there's anything you can
do in Krondor. And if I'm not there, see what you can do to help
Tomas." Nakor and Sho Pi hurried toward the ferry, which would take
them to Stardock town, while Pug turned toward the great citadel of
Stardock. He hurried into the building and reached the central chamber
where the senior magicians of the island were gathering. They rose to
their feet when he entered, and he waved them to chairs as he moved to
the seat traditionally occupied by the leader of the council.

"Things
move quickly," he said without preamble.

"I have been content to let
you play your games of independence from the Kingdom and Kesh while
peace reigned, but things cannot be allowed to continue in this
fashion." Chalmes said, "There are rumors of war. Do you wish the
Academy to take the side of the Kingdom?"

"Yes," said Pug.

"Many here
are of Keshian birth and feel no love for the Kingdom," said another
magician.

"You are Robert d'Lyes?"

"Yes," said the young magician,
inclining his head at the honor of being remembered.

"You're a
Kingdom-born man."

3I5

"True. I merely point out the division of loyalties, after the loyalty
we all feel to Stardock." Pug said, "Let me be direct: Stardock is
mine. It was built with my money on land deeded to me by the King, and
until I say otherwise, it will continue to be mine."

"That is as it
should be," said d'Lyes, 'but many will
choose to depart, and I see that as being a defeat of the principles
that brought us together." Pug smiled.

"I understand, and I appreciate
your Academy- born desire to sit here and debate the obvious until
you've arrived at some profound philosophic insight, but given that the
largest army in the history of the world sails to Krondor even as we
speak, we cannot afford that luxury." At mention of the fleet, several
of the magicians in the room frowned.

"We thought the gathering of
Keshian soldiers to the south was a prelude to a war, my lord," said
Chalmes.

"What is this business of a fleet?" Pug said, "Let me be
brief. A huge army from across the Endless Sea, serving a demon lord,
is sailing toward Krondor. Once the city has been reduced to ashes,
that army intends to sweep out and conquer everything between this
island and Ylith, Krondor and Salador. There will be blood and fire
like nothing you could imagine." The magicians spoke among themselves,
and Pug let them for a minute. Then he held up his hand and the room
fell silent.

"But what is more critical is that their ultimate goal,
without their own knowledge, is a prize which, if seized by them, could
destroy all life on Midkemia."

"Is this possible?" said d'Lyes.

"Not
only possible, probable," said Pug, 'unless I get some help." The young
magician said, "I will help." Pug smiled.

"Youth is often
underappreciated," he
ii
observed as the other, older magicians in the council remained silent.

Finally, Kalied, one of the senior magicians of Keshian ancestry, said,
"So much of what we have labored for is at risk, if that is true; would
it not be wiser for us to remain here to protect the library and the
other facilities?" Pug said, "I Xt order you to ~gness. I can order
you to leave, but what purpose would that serve?" He stood.

"I will
retire to my tower for two hours. Call all the magicians capable of
battle magic or protection or healing, and tell them what I have said.

Those who will help I win take with me. The rest may stay here and
defend Stardock, if they are able." Pug left while the other magicians
started discussing what he had just said. He mounted the stairs to his
study and entered by the mystic door that barred others from entering
and before the door had shut fully he transported himself to Sorcerer's
Isle. Gathis, the gob~e creature who had served Macros and Pug as
majordomo, was at his usual post in the central room of the house, the
one he used as an office, overlooking the lovely garden Pug had
created.

"Master Pug," said Gathis, 'am I correct in assuming that
Master Macros is back?" Pug smiled. Gathis had once told him there was
a mystic bond between himself and Macros.

"Yes, that's true, though
where he and Miranda are is not known to me. Gathis stood and said,
"What service may I perform?"

"I need a change of clothes, and bring me
a hot meal while I bathe." One of the pure pleasures of the house on
Sorcerer's Isle, the one called Villa Beata, was the Keshian-style
baths. Pug had ordered them restored to their former function, and when
Gathis arrived carrying a tray with hot beef, cheese, bread, greens,
and a chilled pitcher of white wine, Pug was sitting in a hot pool,
relaxing.

3I7

Looking at the scars on Pug's body and his very short hair and beard,
Gathis said, "It appears you have been in some difficulty." Pug
laughed.

"I've always loved your knack of under
statement, my friend." He took the goblet of wine the green-faced being
handed him, and after a sip he said, "Did you know Miranda was Macros's
daughter?" Gathis said, "I suspected as much, though I've really had
very little opportunity to talk to the young woman on the brief
occasions when she accompanied you here from Stardock. As there is
something about her manner that puts me in mind of the Black One, the
revelation is no surprise."

"It was to me. Did you know her mother was
the Lady clovis?"

"Now, that is a surprise," said Gathis.

"I met the
Black One when he rescued me from my home-world, quite some time ago,
but that was after he had left Miranda and her mother, as I piece
things together." Pug said, "After I eat, I must return to Stardock.

But before I go, I mean to see the defenses are in place. A very
hostile fleet of great size is going to be sailing past here in a few
days, and while their destination is Krondor, a few of them may be
tempted to stop and investigate." Gathis said, "I will follow your
instructions in this." Then he smiled his toothy smile.

"However, if I
am to judge such things correctly, several of your students here would
be most able to discourage such a visit by marauding malefactors."

Pug laughed.

"I couldn't have said it better myself."

"Will you be
returning soon?" Pug's expression turned somber.

"I don't know. I
would be less than truthful if I didn't tell you that the fate of this
planet is in the balance, so leave it that if we survive, I will
return."

"And the Black One?"

~ a 3I8

Pug shrugged.

"You know your former master far better than I, so you
tell me." Gathis returned the shrug; there was nothing more to say.

Pug finished his meal and his bath and dressed in clean robes. He then
transported himself to his study, and walked down the steps . to where
a large number of students were waiting. en Pug saw them he said,
"Everyone, outside!" The students started to hurry toward the main
door, but Pug grabbed one by the sleeve, turning him completely around,
and said, "What's your name?"

"John, Master," said the youth, almost
beside himself to have been singled out by the legendary Master of
Stardock.

OM

"Go into the council hall and tell everyone there to i us outside." The
student hurried off to the council chamber, and Pug pushed his way
through the crowd, which quickly fell back when the students saw who
was attempting to get through. Pug reached a point where a large rock
rose, a short distance from where the road to the docks wound down the
slope, and he mounted the rock. After a few minutes had passed, Pug
turned and looked across the lake. He adjusted his mystic sight to
study the distant docks, and was pleased to see Nakor, Sho Pi, and two
soldiers. They were boarding the barge that served as a ferry between
the shore and the island. Chalmes and the other members of the council
pushed their way through the press of students, and Chalmes said, "Pug,
what is this about?" Pug sat upon the rock, affecting the best
Nakor-like pose he could muster, and said, "We are waiting."

"Waiting
for what?" Pug smiled and felt a perverse sense of pleasure in their
frustration as he replied, "I don't want to spoil the surprise." That
caused them to fall silent, and for a very uncomfortable half-hour they
waited as the barge was poled across
the lake. At last Nakor and the others came walking up the road, and
Pug said, "I'm glad to see you." Nakor said, "This is Captain Sturgess
of the Shamata Garrison." The students began to mutter at the sight of
the second soldier, who wore the uniform of the Keshian border legion.

"And this is General Rufl ibn Salamon."

The General nodded.

"My lord." Pug turned to the assembled magicians.

To Chalmes he said, "I suppose in the two hours I gave you, you have
managed to dither the time away and do nothing that I ordered."

"We
were discussing the best way to disseminate the information you gave us
-' began the old magician. Pug put up his hand, cutting them off.

"Is
Robert d'Lyes here?" From the rear of the crowd, the young magician
raised his hand. Pug pointed to him and said, "I believe he is the
junior-most member of the council, is that right?" The magicians
nodded.

"Good. That means you're not totally without hope," said Pug.

d'Lyes looked confused at that remark.

"Not totally," he said. Pug
laughed and stood up so all could see him. To the assembled magic
users he said, "Even here I suspect you've heard rumors of war." Some
magicians said yes, and others nodded.

"The war is real, but it is not
with our neighbors to the south.

"A great fleet comes from across the
sea and brings with it an army of terrible size, perhaps a
quarter-million men under arms." At that, several of the magicians
began talking among themselves. Pug held up his hands and the group
fell silent.

"The Kingdom makes ready to defend itself, and as you can
imagine, we need a secure border with Kesh. Toward that end, some
changes have been made."

"Great Kesh and the Kingdom have contested for years over the rich
farmlands surrounding the Sea of Dreams. To end this eternal dispute,
the Kingdom has ceded certain lands to the Empire of Great Kesh.

"To
the southwest of Land's End is a great rocky prominence, clearly
visible from sea and land, called Morgan's Ruin. Sailors know it well.

From the tip of that great rock, straight east to the river Shamata, a
new border has been drawn. The Empire of Great Kesh has been ceded all
lands south of that line, along the southern banks of the river
Shamata, the Sea of Dream , and the Great Star Lake." The assembled
group gasped and a few shouted in anger. One man, obviously from the
Kingdom, shouted, "You betray us." Pug said, "No. Prince Erland has
been negotiating with the Emperor of Great Kesh for a long time on this
matter. In exchange for Kesh's protecting our southern flank from the
enemy, and for observing our current treaty while we are engaged with a
mighty foe, the Kingdom chooses to grant several claims for territory
Kesh has held for almost a hundred years. Those of you who are
uncomfortable with this change in governance may leave.

"As it stands
now, Stardock is still Kingdom territory, still my duchy." Pug glanced
from face to face.

"Shamata is now being handed over to the Keshians.

The Kingdom forces are withdrawing across the Great Star Lake to
Landreth. Any of you who wish may travel with them." Several more
protests were heard, but Pug ignored them. General Salamon spoke.

"We
will honor the Kingdom's claim to sovereignty for Stardock Island.

Stardock Town will be Keshian. Until you have arranged for a portage
or dock on the north shore, Kingdom dtizens will be granted the right
of free passage through Stardock town."

A hush fell over the crowd as they waited to hear what Pug said next.

Someone in the crowd shouted, -^en are you taking over?" The General
said, "We have taken over. My men are now occupying the small fortress
at Port Shamata and the garrison in the city, and we will leave a small
force across the water to ensure the peace." Looking at Pug, he said,

"If there is nothing more, I need to return to my men, my lord." Pug
nodded and said, "Thank you for coming." The General and the Kingdom
Captain left together, heading down the hill toward the dock. Pug
said, "That is the end of it. Now on to another matter.

"This invader
I spoke of is an enemy of the most dangerous sort, and I need those of
you willing to serve. We need those of you able to heal, able to act
as conduits for intelligence, and those of you who may in some way stem
the invaders' magic." He paused and then added, "They are served by
Pantathians." At mention of the hated serpent priests, several of those
who had been quiet shouted, "I'll help!" Pug waited and said, "Those of
you willing to travel to Krondor, see Robert d'Lyes. He is to be my
aide in this matter." D'Lyes looked around, confusion on his face.

"Aide?" he said as young magicians started to talk to him. Pug jumped
down from the rock and Nakor said, "What do we do now?" Pug said, "We?

I'm going to Krondor with this band, to get them ready, then I travel
to Sethanon. You wait here to make sure that this band of fools
doesn't start a war with Kesh in the next two weeks, then when you're
certain they won't, I want you to get to Sethanon." He reached into his
robe and pulled out a Tsurani transportation orb.

"Don't break it or
lose it: it's the last one I have. And it's a long walk to Sethanon."

Nakor didn't look pleased.

"Things are coming to a head,

~ ~ 322

and you want me to stay here and wet-nurse this bunch?" Pug grinned.

"Who better?" So saying, he moved through the milling magicians and
went to talk to Robert d'Lyes. Sho Pi said to Nakor, "Master?" What?"

"Have you given thought to what Pug said about thinking Of a different
plan for Stardock?" Nakor was silent for a moment, then turned to his
student with a wide grin.

"Of course I have."

FIFTEEN

Onslaught

Erik frowned. He put the papers on Lord Williams desk and said "That is
what I'm to do?" William and Calis nodded.

"We've had a change of
plans since my father appeared," said William" looking very tired.

"He
went into council with the Prince, James, and myself, and all I can
tell you is he convinced us that Calis is needed elsewhere." Erik had
been operating on the assumption that he would be up in the mountains
to the north and east of the city, awaiting the fall of Krondor to
launch raids against the invaders as they moved eastward. Now he was
being told the roles were being shuffled, like so many cards in a deck.

William said "I am in charge of the defense of the city. That hasn't
changed. Vykor's flotilla is hidden down in Shadon Bay and will sally
against the raiders as they pass by, to be joined, we hope, by what is
left of Nicholas's fleet after it's refitted at the Sunsets.

"Greylock
will act as my second with the units up in the mountains." He pointed
at Erik.

"That means you will have to fill in for Greylock, where we
had planned to use him."

"The retreat," said Erik flatly.

"Yes," said
Calis.

"By the time we lose this city, we're going to have a frantic
population attempting to flee and a routed army trying to go with them.

We can't allow that."

"How are you going to prevent it?" asked Erik. William sighed.

"This
is what comes of making assumptions. If we had included you in our
command meetings you'd know this already He handed a large sheaf of
papers to Erik.

"Read these; the plan is outlined in detail and I want
you to have it down cold by tonight. You and I will have dinner and we
can dispose of any questions of yours then." Erik turned to Calis.

"When do you leave?"

"As soon as my father returns from Stardock,"
answered William for Calis. Erik assumed it was implidt no one knew
when that was.

"Very well, m'lord." Erik turned to leave the room, and
as he reached the door, William said, "Oh, Erik, there's one more
thing." Erik turned and said, "What is that, sir?"

"From this moment
on, you're a Knight-Captain in the Prince's Army. I don't have time to
waste making you a lieutenant, so you'll just have to skip a rank."

Greylock smiled, trying hard not to laugh at Erik's astonished
expression.

"Me, sir?"

"What's the matter, von Darkmoor!" shouted
Calis in a fair imitation of Bobby de Loungville.

"Are you suddenly
hard of hearing?" Erik blushed.

"Ah, that means I need a new Sergeant
Major, doesn't it?"

"Yes. Any recommendations?" Erik almost said
Jadow, because he was the most senior sergeant in the command, but the
fact was that Calis had been correct originally when he had given Erik
the job. Jadow just didn't have the command skills for the position; it
required far more organizational ability than most of the sergeants
possessed. After a while he said, "There are two or three men who
would serve, but to be honest, the best of the lot is Duga, the
mercenary Captain. He's smart, he's tough, and he understands exactly
what is at stake without
our telling him everything. He's been very useful in persuading those
other mercenaries we've captured into switching sides."

"I don't like
it," said William.

"The man's a turncoat." Erik said, "You have to
understand how things are across the sea, m'lord. Men there have no
strong attachment to a city and there are nothing like the nations
here; Duga has been a mercenary all his life, but down there
mercenaries live by a strict code of honor. If he swears loyalty and I
can make him understand this isn't a contract where he can throw down
his sword and switch back he'll serve." William said, "Let me think
on this. Perhaps we'll make him a sergeant of auxiliaries, but I need
someone else, now."

"Then Alfred," said Erik.

"He's not as sharp when
it comes to strategy and tactics as I'd like, but he understands how to
get things done in a hurry with a minimum of fuss."

"Then he'll do,"
said William, glancing at Calis. Calis nodded.

"I agree. He's solid,
and he'll do for what we have coming."

"Go tell him' said William, and
Erik left. After he was gone, Greylock said, "You neglected to mention
he carries the court rank of Baron." Calis smiled.

"Let's not get him
too upset right now." William let out a long, tired sigh.

"I'm going
to have to deal with his upset when he reads the plans and sees what
his role is to be. Calis nodded.

"There's no doubt about that." Then
he laughed, a rueful, bitter laugh.

"Darkmoor," Erik said.

"You can't be serious." At Williams expression,
he quickly added, "M'lord." William motioned for Erik to follow him
down the hall.

"We're dining with my family tonight. We'll talk over a
quiet meal."

As soon as they reached the dining hall, Erik felt his anger drain
away. The 'quiet' meal the Knight-Marshal spoke of included Duke
James, Lady Gamina, their son, Lord Arutha, and his two sons, Dashel
and James. Erik almost blushed at being included with the Duke's
family, and quickly took a seat to William's right. As servants began
to bring in the food, the magician Pug entered through a door across
from Erik's seat. Erik saw only that his hair and beard had been cut
close, until he came to sit between William and Lady Gamina, at which
point Erik saw what appeared to be faint burn marks on his neck and
face. Jimmy and Dash stood, as did Arutha, James, and Gamina. William
hesitated a moment, and rose, while Erik quickly did as well.

"Great
Grandfather," said Dash in greeting. Pug kissed Gamina's cheek and
shook hands with James and then with William.

"I'm pleased we're all
together," said Pug. Erik saw, and with sudden clarity realized, why
there was a somber mood in the room; this might very well be the last
time Pug's family would gather. And many of those here might not be
alive soon. Erik whispered to William, "If you'd prefer, sir, we can
talk about my mission tomorrow." William shook his head.

"At first
light tomorrow, I want you up in the hills inspecting the first line of
fortifications outside the city to the east. Then you need be back
here by the day after tomorrow." He glanced at his family.

"We don't
have time, I'm sorry to say." Pug said, "Before anything else, I have
one thing I must say to all of you." William turned to look at his
father, as did James and Gamina. Pug said, "I have been absent from
your lives far too long, and for this I must beg your forgiveness." He
then reached out and placed his hands over William's and

Gamina's.

"And I also need to tell you how very proud of you I am." W~
looked as if he didn't know what to say. Gamina ~ed and moisture
gathered in her eyes as she leaned
over and kissed her father's cheek. Erik had seen enough strange
things in the last four years to find nothing odd in the image of a
woman who looked old enough to be Pug's mother being his daughter.

Gamina said something to her father by mind speech, and he smiled.

"I
wish she were here, too." William said, Thank you, Father." Pug removed
his hand from Gamina's and put it over the one that still gripped
William's.

"No, I must thank you, for being who you are, and for
holding to your own dream no matter what I thought you should be doing.

I learn slowly at times, I fear." William smiled and Erik could see
the resemblance between father and son. There was a sheen of moisture
in the Knight-Marshal's eyes, and Erik found his own throat tightening
with emotion. This was what this war was about, protecting those we
love, he thought. Somewhere in the night his mother and the only man
he thought of as a father were sitting over a table in the back of an
inn, and somewhere out there the woman he loved was hiding, on her way
to join his mother and Nathan. Erik suddenly felt a presence in his
mind, a gentle touch, nothing more, but he knew it was the Lady Gamina.

He glanced over and saw she was smiling at him. Then words came into
his mind. Your young woman is safe, I am sure. Without knowing quite
how to do it, he tried to say, My wife. Gamina laughed and William
said, "What?" The Duchess said, "Our young friend has gotten married
since the last time we met."

Pug, William, Arutha, and Gamina all offered congratulations, while the
two younger men glanced at their grandfather. Pug said, "James?" The
former boy thief shrugged and grinned, and there was a hint of boyish
playfulness in his manner.

"I knew. So did Dash and jimmy." Arutha
said, "You knew?" Duke James laughed.

"I had to get Erik's mind back
on the days to come, so I let him think he was being terribly clever
sneaking his young wife out of the city." He pointed an accusatory
finger at Erik.

"Don't ever disobey me again, Captain." At the
admonition and use of his new rank, Erik couldn't help but blush.

"Captain?" asked Dash, nodding in approval. Gamina and Arutha both
said, "Congratulations." William said, "We'll see how much
congratulations are in order after this coming battle." At mention of
the conflict, the mood in the room fell somber again. After a moment
of quiet, Pug slapped his hand on the table.

"Enough, Let us steal a
moment of happiness while we can." He glanced at his grandson, Arutha.

' My only regret is that your wife is not with us." Arutha smiled, and
Erik again saw the echo of both his father and mother in his features.

"She visits her parents in Roldem." Jimmy said, "Perhaps we should all
go to Roldem for a visit." Pug laughed, and the others joined in. The
meal passed quickly and pleasantly, as those dining together found
reassurance in one another's company. Erik was pleased to have the
opportunity of seeing this family together, for in this room sat three
of the most important men in the Kingdom, Lord James and his father-inlaw and brother-in-law. The food was beyond a doubt the best Erik had
ever had, and the wine was beyond
comparison, wine grown in his own Darkmoor region, but too costly for a
commoner like himself to have ever tasted. He and William quietly
discussed the plan for the defense of those leaving the city, in the
corner, while the other family members chatted about matters of small
importance and ignored the darkness coming their way.

After supper they ate sweets and drank Keshian coffee with small
glasses of an exquisite fortified wine from Rodez. As Erik felt a warm
glow fill him from head to toe, Calis hurried into the dining room.

"Sorry to intrude," he said without greeting, 'but a message has
arrived." James stood and held out his hand, and Calis gave him the
message. William said, "From Land's End?"

"Yes, by fast riders. The
invaders' fleet was sighted just after dawn yesterday." William said,
"With a favorable wind, that will put them off the point the day after
tomorrow." James nodded.

"It begins."

Erik squinted, trying to will sight in the gloom. He stood on the
outer breakwater, on the forward firing platform. As he had threatened,
Greylock had seen that Captain de Beswick was given the dubious honor
of being the first officer to face the enemy at Krondor's wall. If the
formerly hostile captain felt any resentment over Erik's promotion,
placing him above the career officer from Bas-Tyra, he hid it well, and
was nothing if not polite when Erik gave him orders.

"Where are they."

asked Erik. De Beswick said nothing, realizing the question was
rhetorical. As the sun lit the sky to the east, the western horizon
continued to be cloaked in fog and darkness, accommodating the enemy's
advance. De Beswick said, "I know little about this sea, Captain, but
if the weather is at all like Bas-Tyra, the haze should burn off by
midmorning." Erik said, "By midmorning you may have warships sitting
close enough to throw rocks at." He looked over the defenses for what
seemed to be the hundredth time since he had returned from his
inspection of the nearby defenses to the east of the city. Long minutes
dragged on, and Erik kept returning to examining those forward
elements. The outer breakwater had been restructured, so that to reach
Krondor harbor a ship now had to sail as far south as possible around a
large jetty, atop which sat the platform Erik stood on; that was manned
by a company of catapult crews, bowmen, and a shoreside detachment, all
armed to the teeth. Any ship approaching this end of the jetty would
be fired upon. The seawall ran almost due north, separated from the
inner wall by a distance of less than a quarter-mile. At the north end
of the wall, another company waited, and any ship attempting to come up
the channel between the inner and outer walls would be subject to a
withering cross fire. Across the water on the inner wall, another
company of soldiers manned their war engines. Erik considered that
once the enemy saw the new defenses, their only choice would be to
attempt to seize all three platforms. If they were foolish enough to
send ships into the channel before they cleared away the defenders,
they ran the risk of a ship's being sunk to block the channel. What
Erik knew and they didn't was that a clever set of traps awaited the
ships that came through that channel, even if the defenders were swept
away from the walls. Erik looked at the small boat tied off below, less
than twenty feet down a rope ladder dropped over the edge of the
platform.

"I'm going to leave you the boat," said Erik. He knew that
the men on this and the next three stations were likely to be
obliterated before they could withdraw. De Beswick looked at Erik, and
raised an eyebrow in question.

"If you need to send a message in a
hurry, it's faster than running along the top of the wall."

33I

"Of course," said de Beswick. Then, after a moment, he said, "Rather
decent of you, actually." Erik put his hand on the man's shoulder and
said, "Goodbye and good luck."

He ran along the top of the jetty, along the small path cut atop the
mountains of rocks placed there by convict labor so that the ballista
and catapult platforms could be installed. For more than
three-quarters of a mile he trotted to the second platform, where he
accepted the salutes of the officers waiting there. He didn't stop to
speak, but continued along, turning eastward at the top of the inverted
U the two walls formed. For a quarter-mile the Knight-Captain of the
Prince's Army hurried along, then turned south. The day was getting
warmer, and Erik was perspiring when he reached the third platform. He
quickly inspected stores and equipment, then turned back north. The
last platform was the most isolated, for as at the first one on the
outer wall, the men would have to flee along the exposed path and
across the rock jetty to reach the old north jetty, which had
traditionally shielded Krondor's harbor from the Bitter Sea's
south-running tides. By the time Erik got to the point where the old
jetty reached the north most dock, he found a company of Palace Guards
waiting for him. Erik mounted a horse being held for him and led the
patrol through the mass of soldiers on the docks. Every possible
barricade had been erected, and the first three blocks into the city
were a killing zone. Every upper window of every building housed an
archer, and Erik marveled at the defenses planned by William and James.

The lower windows were barricaded and the doors locked, and a clever
set of easily moved ramps had been constructed so the defenders in the
upper stories could withdraw by crawling from building to building,
while others covered their retreat. What had surprised Erik wasn't the
number of citizens who had fled the city once the construction of the
defenses began but, rather, those
who had to be evicted, despite the evidence before their eyes of the
coming battle. Many had been carried by main force out of their homes,
or marched out at spear point At the third corner from the docks, Erik
and his men reached the first barricade. They were waved through and
headed toward the palace. As they moved away from the dock area, Erik
saw the fearful faces of the populace, some peeking out of doorways,
and others hurrying off on one errand or another before war came to
Krondor. Many carried large bags of their belongings on their backs
and were heading toward the east, where they would attempt to leave the
city before fighting began. Erik knew that James would allow refugees
to trickle out of the city, in a controlled fashion, until the enemy
were ashore and the eastern gates needed to be closed. From reports he
had read the night before, Erik knew the foul burg the portion of the
city built beyond the ancient walls was all but deserted. Local
patrols of constables had arrested and hanged a dozen looters over the
last week. A trader with a pushcart hurried past, shouting he had food
to sell, and Erik was certain the man would dispose of the last of his
wares before noon. As Erik neared the palace, the level of traffic
heading to the gate increased, and he ordered his escort to head around
back toward the docks and then to the palace, to avoid the press of
citizens. They moved back down toward the docks, and as they rode
along, one of the men in a second-story window above shouted, "Gods!

Look at them!" Erik lacked the man's advantage of height, but he knew
that the man could see the hostile fleet.

"What do you see?" The
soldier looked down to see who asked, and, seeing the officer's mark on
Erik's tunic, saic~ "Ships, sir, Must be a thousand of them." Erik
didn't wait. He kicked his horse into a canter and
moved as fast as safety permitted toward the palace. He knew there
weren't a thousand enemy ships outside Krondor' sharbor, but he knew
there were at least four hundred, by cautious estimation of how much of
the fleet had survived. Nicholas had hit them on one side of the
Straits of Darkness while a flotilla from Elarial hit them from the
south. At the same time squadrons of warships from Durbin and Queg
raided the forward elements. James had reviewed the reports from
lookouts who attempted to judge the size of the remaining fleet as it
sailed past, then sent word by a series of relay riders, who would
change horses every few miles. The raids had reduced the invaders'
fleet by a fourth. Others had celebrated the damage done to the enemy
until James had pointed out that left a mere four hundred and fifty
warships heading toward Krondor. So instead of three hundred thousand
soldiers coming ashore within the next few days, only two hundred and
twenty-five thousand would invade the Kingdom. Erik fought off the
desire to surrender to despair. He entered the palace via the sea gate,
and gave his horse's reins to a lackey.

"I need a fresh horse," he
said, and ran off to his last meeting with Lord James and Knight
Marshal William. He reached the conference room where William and James
were overseeing the final briefing for the area commanders before they
were dispatched to their respective garrisons. The palace gate out of
the city was being held clear so that dispatch riders and those
officers leaving could get out of the city before the riots of
panic-stricken citizens began. James stood by while William issued
orders.

"We should have ships beaching to the north of the city within
the hour." He pointed to two of the commanders who would see to coastal
defenses just outside the city.

"It's time for You to be there,
gentlemen. Good luck."

~i

Erik saw the Earl of Tilden and a squire whose name was not known to
him salute and depart. Erik had studied the deployment of troops for
days since William had given him a copy of the battle plan, and he knew
that nobles and their detachments would be the first to feel the brunt
of the attack. From Farth down to Krondor, from Krondor to the small
villages north of Shadon Bay, every armed soldier that Patrick could
squeeze out of the Armies of the West stood ready to repulse the
invaders. But sixty thousand troops, most of them untested levies,
were going to be overrun by more than three times their numbers in
battle-hardened warriors. The only advantage the Kingdom possessed
would be in discipline and training, and that wouldn't come into play
until after Krondor fell. For it was clear to Erik that his first
suspicion had been correct: Krondor would fall. He glanced around the
room and saw that Greylock was already gone, as was Calis. Greylock was
riding for the first detachment directly under his command, a mixed
company of Calis's Crimson Eagles, Hadati warriors, and the Royal
Krondorian Pathfinders. Throughout the mountains to the north and east
every experienced mountain fighter they could recruit from as far east
as the hills above Ran and Pointers Head was waiting. The general plan
was to bleed the enemy, killing as many of the invaders as possible
going through Krondor, then to shred them as they made their way
through the hills and mountains, where each of Greylock's mountain
fighters would be the worth of five of the invaders. Erik had fought
with the Emerald Queen's army; most of them were satisfactory horse
infantry, and a few decent cavalry, but none were mountain men. The
only thing Erik worried about was the Saaur riders, for while they
might not be mountain fighters, they were warriors unmatched by any
force the human defenders of the Kingdom could put in the field. Erik
knew they would have lost a number of their horses
on the sea journey. The fodder would spoil from the constant moisture,
and horses would colic, and some would be useless after six months in
the hold of a ship, but enough would be quickly fit to make the Saaur a
dangerous foe. And who knew what sort of magic the enemy might employ
to keep the horses fresh?

William turned to Erik.

"Ready?"

"Ready or not, our forces are in
place. As I left the docks, the enemy was sighted." William dropped
what he was doing and hurried to the large window that overlooked the
harbor.

"Gods!" he said softly. Erik and the others followed, and each
in his own way was just as stunned. No matter what reports had said,
none of them was prepared for the sight that greeted them. From the
outer seawall to the distant horizon, clearing by the minute as the
morning haze burned off the Bitter Sea, white sails could be seen.

Erik craned his neck and looked as far north as he could manage, and
could make out sails in the distance.

"They must have fanned out since
yesterday," said William, turning away and hurrying back to the table.

"They're going to wash over us like a tide." To the nobles in the room
he said, "Gentlemen, you know what to do. May the gods protect us
all." Erik glanced around the room.

"The Prince?"

"He left the palace
last night," said William.

"With my sister and her son and grandsons."

William glanced at Erik and smiled.

"Can't lose the Prince, now, can
we?" Erik shook his head.

"Lord James?"

"In his office. Seems he felt
obliged to stay." After the nobles had left in an orderly fashion, Erik
said, "There's nothing left for me to do here, sir."

"One thing," said
William, reaching into his tunic. He Pulled out a small parchment,
rolled and tied with a ribbon, and sealed, the crest of his office
pressed into the red wax.

"When this is over, give this to my father if you can." Erik frowned.

"Sir?" William smiled.

"I would never order a man to the wall if I
wasn't willing to go there myself, Erik." For a moment. Erik was
unable to move. He realized with dread certainty that the
Knight-Marshal of the Kingdom did not intend to leave the city. He
swallowed hard. While he and William were not close, he had come to
admire the man for his honesty, bravery, and clear, cool logic in
planning a battle. And for one night, when he had shared supper with
the man and his family, he had glimpsed a personal history. He could
not help but feel loss.

"Sir," he said at last, 'good-bye." William
held out his hand.

"Good-bye. Captain. Much of what will come rests
in your hands. Know one thing: you are capable of far more than you
know." Erik put the scroll in his tunic and saluted as smartly as he
could manage. Then he hurried from the room. He returned quickly to
the courtyard where a fresh horse waited, and mounted. Unlike the
others, who left through the one gate kept free of citizens, he turned
back to the gate that led to the docks. He signaled for a patrol of
lancers to accompany him. and the gates were opened as he reached
them. Outside the gate a squad of foot soldiers held a small crowd at
bay. Panic was beginning to manifest itself in the city as word spread
of the approaching fleet. Some of the poor souls living along the
waterfront. near the palace, were seeking to gain entrance into the
city. Erik paused to shout, "There is no refuge for you here! The
eastern gate is still open. Either leave the city that way or return
to your homes, Now, clear the way.o He moved his horse forward, and
citizens dove out of the way as the squad of riders followed behind
him. Erik moved through the city as quickly as possible. He knew his
assignment in theory. but the difference between
theory and practice was quickly becoming apparent. His job was to
oversee the orderly withdrawal of the city's defenders to Greylock's
first defensive position to the east, about a half-day's march beyond
the first farms outside the city. But everywhere he looked, Erik saw
chaos, and he doubted anything remotely like order could be pulled from
the mess. Still, he was sworn to succeed or to die trying. He put
heels to horse and moved into the crowd.

Jason grabbed up every book he could and put them into canvas sacks,
which he handed to boys who were waiting to take them to nearby wagons.

Roo had overestimated the time left before the invaders reached
Krondor, and now he watched as his employees evacuated his businesses.

Everything he could manage to hoard ~ gold, letters of credit, and
other items of wealth was safely hidden at his estates. He already
had a pair of wagons there waiting to take his wife and children, as
well as the Jacobys, to the east. He hoped that Sylvia had listened
seriously to his warnings and would join them as they moved to escape
the coming onslaught. Jason said, "That's the last of it, sir!" Roo,
sitting atop a fresh horse, said, "Get the wagons out of here!" Fifteen
wagons, carrying everything he could move, started out of the large
yard into the street. Shouting people hurried past, some carrying
their belongings on their back, while others just ran. Rumors were
flying ~ that the Prince was dead, that the palace had been taken, that
all the gates were closed and they were trapped and Roo knew that
eventually he would have to leave behind his wagons and remaining goods
if he didn't get out of the city by sundown. He had hired the best
private guards he could find, and there weren't many left in Krondor.

Just about any man capable of carrying a sword or pulling a bow was now
in

~i
l~

the King's service. The squad of ten men he had hired were old men and
boys, but the old men were veterans and the boys were strong and
enthusiastic. Whips cracked as the horses moved the heavily burdened
wagons, which groaned under the weight. Roo was attempting to Salvage
everything of worth, inventory, tools, and furnishings. He had faith
that eventually the Emerald Queen's army would be defeated, and he was
attempting to ensure that he had as much of a start as possible in
rebuilding his wealth after the war was over. Roo said to Jason, who
was now sitting on the first wagon, "Where is Luis?" Jason said, "He
went looking for Duncan when he didn't show up. I think he may have
gone out of the city."

"Why?"

"Because Duncan said something about
going to your estates on an errand for you." Roo frowned. He had not
seen Duncan for two days, which had put his cousin in the worst
possible grace with Roo so far. He had excused a lot of Duncan's
lapses, but with the invaders so close Roo had needed every pair of
hands possible, and Duncan's preoccupation with his own pleasure was
inexcusable this time.

"I'm going on ahead to my estates. Meet me
there." Roo was going to let his wagoners rest the night at his
estates, then send them on to Ravensburg. There Roo had planned to
gather his employees and servants together and if the enemy appeared,
move on to Salador. He knew what few others knew: that if the invaders
made it past Darkmoor, they'd turn toward Sethanon, for the fabled
prize Calis had long ago told his men about, whatever it might be. Roo
had no doubt that the Kingdom would be equal to the task; he had served
with the invaders for a while when Calis had infiltrated their army,
and while they had numbers, they lacked the Kingdom's training. Then he
remembered the Saaur.

Roo said, "I'm going to change orders. Continue past my estates and
keep going until sundown."

"Why?" asked Jason.

"Something I just
thought of. Head to our inn in Chester
ton and wait. If you don't hear anything from me within a day that
says otherwise, start the men toward Darkmoor. Refit there, change
horses, whatever you need to do, then continue on to Malac's Cross.

Wait for me to send you word there." jason seemed disturbed by the
change of plans, but said nothing. He nodded and told the driver to
keep moving. Roo rode ahead and quickly became enmeshed in the crowd
streaming for the eastern gates. He was on the verge of turning back,
fearing a riot" when he saw Kingdom troops riding toward him from a
street to his left. He saw a familiar figure at their head and
shouted, "Erik!" Erik reined in.

"I thought you went out of the city
yesterday." Too many last-minute things to see to," answered Roo.

"I've got wagons coming this way, then we're for the East." Erik
nodded.

"Wise choice. You can ride with us to the gate, but the
wagons are on their own, I'm afraid." Roo pulled in next to his boyhood
friend and asked, "When are they closing the gates?"

"Sundown, or when
the first enemy is seen to the east, whichever comes first."

"They're
that close?" said Roo in surprise.

"They hit the outer seawall an hour
ago,"answered Erik as he slowed his horse because of the press of
people. The way was now lined with Kingdom soldiers, keeping the crowd
moving in an orderly fashion. Those who heard horses coming from
behind tried to move aside, but there was scant room and Erik and his
squad were forced to slow to a walk. Roo asked, "Where are you bound
for?"

"Just outside," said Erik.

"When the gates close, I'm going to
ride rear guard behind those who are through."

~i

"Nasty job," said Roo.

"Not as nasty as staying behind(~' said Erik.

Roo said, "I hadn't thought of it that way." He paused, then said,
"What of Jadow and the others?" Erik knew he meant the handful of men
whom Erik and Roo had served with across the sea with Captain Calis.

"They're already Tone, up in the mountains." Roo said, "What's going
on?"

"I can't tell you," said Erik. Roo thought on it a moment; he had
dispatched building materials for the Prince to odd destinations
throughout the mountains, as well as provisions for men. He considered
the fact that the best soldiers the Prince had were up in the hills,
then asked, "Nightmare Ridge?" Erik nodded.

"Don't say anything, but
in about a month you want your family cast of Darkmoor."

"Understood,"
said Roo as they came in sight of the gate. A wagon had lost a wheel
just outside the gate and the driver was arguing with the guards there,
who wanted to cut loose the horse and drag the wagon out of the way,
while the driver was insisting on waiting to fix the broken wheel. Erik
rode up and said, "Sergeant!" The man turned and, seeing an officer in
the black of the Prince's Special Command, said, "Sir!"

"Quit arguing
and get that wagon out of the way." People on foot could get out of the
gate around it, but a string of wagons and carts was building up
quickly behind the broken-down wagon. The driver was frantic.

"Sir!

Everything I own is in there!"

"Sorry," said Erik, and he waved for a
squad of men to move the man away, then drag the wagon off to the side
of the road.

"If you can fix it over there, good luck to you. But
you're keeping people here who don't wish to linger." Erik rode past
and said to Roo, "Get away, Roo, now." Roo said, "Why?" Erik pointed to
the north and Roo could see dust. The
hair on his neck rose up.

"Only one thing can raise that much dust in
a hurry." Erik said, "Either the biggest cavalry detachment this side
of Kesh, or it's the Saaur!" Roo turned his horse down the eastern road
and with a shout had the horse cantering away from the city. Erik
turned to one of the soldiers at his side and said, 'pass word back
into the city we've got visitors coming
from the north." He glanced at the dust rising in the hills and said,
"They'll be here in an hour." Erik turned to the command at the gate
and said, "Be ready to close up with no more than one minute's notice."

"Yes, sir," came the response. Erik rode a quarter-mile to the north,
where a company of heavy lancers waited, with two squads of bowmen to
provide support.

"Lieutenant,"

"Sir," said the leader of the Royal
Krondorian Lancers.

"In the next hour some damned big lizards on giant
horses are going to be coming down that north road. Can your men
handle them?" The lieutenant smiled.

"Big makes 'em easier to hit,
don't it, sir?" Erik smiled. The young officer was probably a few
years older than he, but Erik felt like an old man looking at his
enthusiasm.

"That's the spirit," he said. He then turned his small
patrol around and rode to the south, where another detachment of
lancers waited. He dispatched those to support the group on the north.

Whatever was coming from the south would be far less a threat than a
full-blown Saaur attack, and those inside the city could deal with any
human threat. Then the sky seemed to open and a howl went up that had
Erik and every man nearby covering hisears in pain. It went on while
riders attempted to calm frantic horses that screamed and bolted at the
sound. Several of the lancers were thrown from their saddles.

~i

After a minute the sound ceased, and Erik could hear a lingering ring
in hisears.

"What was that?" he heard a soldier nearby ask.

"I have no
idea," said Erik.

William and James stood on the palace balcony, overlooking the harbor
as the last echoes of the strange howling sound ended. A huge column
of dust and steam rose at the mouth of the harbor. A blinding flash
had accompanied the noise, and even though they had been inside, both
men found themselves blinking away tears. Men below on the walls were
wandering blind, crying out for someone to lead them away. Soldiers
raced through the palace shouting orders, for a tremendous sound had
accompanied the explosion, and even the most veteran of them were
stunned by it.

"What was that?" asked William.

"Look!" said James,
pointing to the harbor mouth. The churning waters of the outer harbor
seemed to be calming, and a great wave of foam and debris rolled in
toward the docks. Upon its crest rode great ships, and they all
carried invaders.

"They're in the harbor!" shouted William.

"Dam! I
thought we could hold them outside for a week." James said, "Whatever
they used, the two sea walls are gone." William swore.

"I had a
thousand men on those walls."

"So much for those clever traps you
rigged in the channel." William nodded.

"They must have been swept
away when the enemy destroyed the defenses. What was it?"

"I don't
know," said James.

"I saw Guy du Bas-Tyra fire Armengar during the
Great Uprising, and when those twenty-five thousand barrels of naphtha
went up, the explosion could be seen for miles. This was something
different."

"A magic of some sort?" asked William.

Dryly, James said, "Given your upbringing, you'd be in a better
position to answer than I." Turning away, William said, "We didn't
encourage students to blow things up at Stardock. It disturbs the
tranquillity." He hurried to where runners waited to carry orders, and
to the first he said, "General order five. They are in the city."

William returned to where James stood, watching alien invaders sail
into his city.

"I will not let this happen," said
the Duke. William put his hand on his brother-in-law's shoulder and
said, "It's happened."

"Remind me, what's general order five?" William
said, "We're locking the eastern gate, and firing on anything coming
from the west. House-to-house for the first three blocks away from the
docks."

"What about those nasty things you set up down at the docks?"

"Those are still in place. If the Pantathian magic users don't blow up
the palace the way they did the sea walls they'll find a surprise or
two when they land on the docks." James looked at William. "H ave you
gotten everyone out?" William knew who the 'everyone' was that James
spoke of, his sister, her son, and her grandchildren. James had
counted on William to see them to safety.

"They're out of the city.

They left in a special coach last night." James said, "Then this is
good-bye." William looked at his brother-in-law and weighed the man in
his memory. They had a long history together, back to the days when
William was a young lieutenant in the Prince's Household Guards and
James had run roughshod over the wild twins, Borric and Erland, now
King and Prince respectively. James asked, "It's been what, thirty
years?"

"Closer to forty." They embraced. When they separated, James
said, "I only regret you never found anyone, William."

William said, "I did, once." James said nothing, for he remembered the
Keshian magician william had loved as a young man, and her untimely
death. William said, "I do envy you Arutha and the boys." James said,
"I must go." William said, "If we do somehow manage to get out Of this,
I promise I'll give some thought to finding a good woman and settling
down." James laughed. He again embraced his brother-in-law and said,
"See you in Darkmoor or see you in hell."

"One is as good as the
other," said William, giving James a gentle push toward the door. The
Duke turned and hurried as fast as his old legs would permit. Outside,
a squad of special soldiers, dressed in black tunics, leggings, and
black-painted iron coifs, waited. They wore no markings, and they said
nothing as they followed James down to his office. There he stripped
off the marks of his rank, the golden chain holding the Duke of
Krondor' sseal, used to identify official decrees of the Principality.

He removed his ducal ring, and set it next to the seal. After a
moment, he turned to one of the soldiers and said, "In the Prince's
audience hall, there's a sword hanging over the fireplace. Fetch it
for me." The soldier ran off while James removed his clothing and
donned garb like that worn by the soldiers. He was dressed when the
soldier returned carrying the sword. An old rapier, it bore an odd
device, a tiny war hammer, that had been fused into the sword's forte.

He added this to the bundle and wrapped up the sword, ring, chain and
seg and a letter he had written the night before, and handed it to a
soldier wearing the garb of the Prince's Household Guards.

"Take this
to Lord Vencar, in Darkmoor."

"Yes, my lord," said the guard and
hurried away. To the soldiers who were remaining, the silent men in
black, James said, "It's time."

They left his office and hurried down into the bowels of the palace,
down winding stairs that led to the dungeon. Past the cells, they moved
to a seemingly blank wall. James said, "Put your hands here, and here'
he pointed'and push up." Two soldiers did as bidden, and the wall
slid almost effortlessly upward into the ceiling, revealing a door
hidden behind the false wall. James pointed. Two soldiers moved to
open the door; it protested at being disturbed
after years of peace. But move it did, to reveal an opening, and a
flight of stairs leading down. Lanterns were lit, two soldiers
entered, and James followed. As the last of the eight guards passed
through the door, it was drawn shut behind them, causing the false wall
to return to its position. Down the stairs the men hurried, until at
last they came to another closed wooden door. One of the men listened
and said, "It's silent, my lord." James nodded.

"Open it." The man did
so, and the door opened to the sound of lapping water. At a landing
beneath the old citadel, the central part of the palace of Krondor, an
underground waterway wended from the city into the bay. The stench of
the place told every man what they already knew: this was a section of
the great sewers of the city, which emptied into the bay a mile or more
away. A new longboat waited, tethered to an iron ring in the stone
dock, and the eight soldiers entered, leaving a place in the middle for
the Duke. James stepped into the boat.

"Let's go," he said. The boat
was pushed off from the dock, and the men began to row, but rather than
head for the bay, they swung the boat around and headed against the
flow of the water, into the sewers of the city. As they came to the
entrance of a large culvert, one twice the height of a man, James
whispered to himself, 'jimmy the Hand goes home."

r,

SIXTEEN

Battles

Erik signaled.

"Over there!" he shouted. Men turned their horses and
charged. The battle for the city had been raging outside the
northernmost gate in the east wall since the day before. The invaders
were disorganized as they came ashore. Erik's detachments had been
struck twice, once at sundown, and again in the morning by a large
detachment of Saaur horsemen. Erik had been pleased to discover that,
despite their size, the Saaur horses were just as subject to the
travail of travel as were the smaller animals humans rode. Also, for
the first time in their memory, the Saaur. weren't facing human
mercenaries but true soldiers, Kingdom heavy lancers, and the impact of
a disciplined foe with twelve-foot-long, iron-shod lances and a
willingness to conduct an orderly charge had routed the Saaur. Erik
had no idea what good this would do for the overall campaign, but the
lift it gave his men to best the huge lizard men in their first
confrontation was incalculable. Now they were engaged with a company of
mercenary humans who, while not as individually threatening as the
Saaur, were proving more difficult for their sheer numbers, and because
they were relatively fresh, while Erik's men had fought two engagements
in the last twelve hours. But as the fresh Kingdom riders approached
from the south, Erik found his units able to roll back the invaders,
who fled at last into the woodlands to the north. Erik
turned and looked for his second in command, a lieutenant named
Gifford. He signaled the man and said, "Ride after, but halt a bowshot
from the tree line. I don't want you riding into traps. Then bring
the men back and re-form. I'm heading to the gate to see if there are
any more orders." The lieutenant saluted and rode off to carry out his
orders. Erik hurried his tired horse down the road toward the gate,
past boarded-up houses, as if the owners expected to return to find
them intact, as if this were only a storm striking Krondor. Other
homes were obviously abandoned, with doors left open. A steady stream
of refugees hurried along the road, moving in the direction from which
Erik came, and he had to shout several times to get people to let him
pass.

Already the tone of the flight was edging toward panic, and Erik. knew
that this would be his last trip to get any new orders. It took him
nearly a half-hour to ride a distance he could normally travel in a
third that time, and when he reached the gate he saw the activity was
up to a frantic pace. He saw two other wagons pushed off the road, one
into the small river that ran along the road into the city, through the
sewers, and into the bay. Erik absently wondered if it might be one of
Roo's. He suspected most of Roo's wagons had gotten clear of the city
before the fighting at sundown, and were now safely on their way to
Darkmoor. Getting within hailing distance of the gate, Erik shouted,
"Sergeant Macky!" The sergeant in command of the gate turned to see who
called, and when he spied Erik, he shouted, "Sir?"

"Any orders?"

"No,
sir. As before," was all he said before turning back to hurry along
those trying to crowd through the gate, while maintaining order. Erik
shouted, "Good luck to you then, Sergeant!"

The soldier, an old man who had shared a drink or two with Erik and the
other members of the Crimson Eagles, turned and said, "And to you, sir.

Good luck to us all." Then he went back to his tasks. Erik wished for
a fresh mount, but he couldn't risk heading into the city. or ride
back to his command t
position and see if ere was time to secure a remount. He had ordered
the fresh horses kept far enough from the most likely points of combat
that they were safe but not convenient. He forced his way back
through the mob fleeing the city. He knew what the plan was, yet this
frantic sea of humanity made him wonder if he could be as cruel as the
Prince and Duke, for many of those he passed would be hunted down and
killed by the Emerald Queen's raiders as they fanned out along the
highway. Erik couldn't protect them all. Erik reached the edge of the
foul burg and found a few of his men, resting in the shade of a tree.

"Report," he ordered one of them, and the soldier stood up.

"We just
got hit by another patrol Captain. They came out of the trees and
looked surprised when we filled them with arrows." He pointed toward
the distant trees.

"Lieutenant ieffrey is over there somewhere." it
took Erik a moment to put a face to the name Jeffrey, and he realized
suddenly how big his command had become. He had met every man in his
unit for the first half -year, but in the last two months the army of
the Prince had doubled in size as units of troops sent from the Far
Coast and down from Yabon arrived, along with detachments from the
East. Many of the men who were now looking to him to survive were
strangers, while most of the men he had trained were already up in the
mountains to the east. He rode on and found the lieutenant a short time
later. The soldier, who wore the tabard of LaM ut a wolf's head
on a field of blue, turned and saluted.

"Captain, we ha patrol blunder
right into us. They didn't know we were here." Erik looked at the
bodies littering the open ground south of the trees.

"They're sending
companies out without any coordination,"he said.

"The Saaur and the
other companies
we fought today haven't spread the word we're waiting."

"Can we expect
this to last long?" Erik remembered his own experience with the Queen's
army in Novindus and said, "To a point. They'll never have the
internal communication and discipline we do, but they have numbers, and
when they come at us, they'll all come at once." Looking at the
afternoon light, he said, "Send a messenger down to where our reserves
are and bring back two companies to relieve the men here, and' he
pointed to where the standard of the heavy lancers could be seen
flapping in the breeze'tell the lancers to stand down for a few
hours."

"You think we've beat them back?" Erik smiled. The older
lieutenant from LaM ut knew better than that. He just wanted to see
what kind of young captain he was taking orders from.

"Hardly," said
Erik.

"We're just catching a little calm before the storm. I mean to
take advantage of it." Before the lieutenant left, he said, "What about
those serpent priests?" Erik said, "I don't know, Lieutenant. We will
certainly know when they arrive." Jeffrey saluted, and as he departed,
Erik called after, "And bring me a fresh horse."

Miranda said, "Something's ahead." She spoke at a bare whisper. Her
father stood behind her, sweat beading his brow as he labored to keep a
spell of invisibility around them. They

had found the rift entrance that led into the world of Shila, and
Miranda was attempting to probe it, to see what they could expect on
the other side. From what Hanam had told them, they were likely to
walk into the arms of some very angry demons if they just walked
through. They moved wit sight of the rift gate, which to the normal eye
appeared a blank wall To Macros and his daughter the area was alive
with mystic energy, and Macros said, "Something has tried to seal it
from this side." Miranda probed the rift. There were presences on the
other side, and Miranda backed into the dark.

"You can let the spell
down. There's no one around." Macros did.

"What do we do now?" asked
Miranda. Sitting down heavily, her father said, "We try to get through
that rift with stealth, we try to fight our way through, or we search
for a third way to get to Shila."

"The first two don't sound likely,
and I especially don't find the second choice attractive," said
Miranda.

"What do you think of the third?" Macros said, "If there's a
way to Shila via the Hall of Worlds, Mustafa the fortune teller would
know."

"Tabert's?" asked Miranda.

"That's as good a place as any," said
Macros.

"I'm tired. Can you get us there?" Miranda's brow furrowed in
concern.

"You, tired?"

"I would never tell Pug," said Macros, 'but I
suspect when he pulled me asunder from Sarig, I became fully mortal
again. Most of my power came from the dead God of Magic, and with that
link sundered .. ." He shrugged.

"Now is a hell of a time to tell
us!" said Miranda.

"We're about to face a demon king and you're
suddenly not at your best because of old age?" Macros grimaced as he
stood.

"I'm not quite ready for gruel and a shawl, Daughter. I could
still tear down this mountain if I had to!"

35I

Miranda smiled as she took his hand and willed them to an inn in LaM ut
The inhabitants of Tabert's were a mixed lot, but to the last, they
rose and stepped back when the sorcerer and his daughter winked into
existence a few feet before the bar. Tabert was standing behind the
bar, and he merely raised
an eyebrow as Miranda said, "We need to use your storage room." The
barman sighed, as if to say, "What sort of story am I going to have to
concoct to explain away this mystery?" but he nodded.

"Good luck," he
said. They hurried behind the bar and through the door into the back
room. Miranda led Macros down a flight of stairs and along a narrow
hall. At the end of the hall was an alcove, separated from the rest of
the hall by a plain curtain hanging from a metal rod. It was the
portal Miranda had used when she had first entered the Hall of Worlds.

They pushed aside the curtain that set apart the alcove, and as they
stepped across the threshold, they were in the Hall of Worlds.

"I know
the long way to Honest John's," said Miranda, pointing to the left.

"Do you know a faster way?" Macros nodded.

"Over there," he said,
pointing in the opposite direction. They hurried on.

William watched as the battle raged below his vantage point. The
defenders at the docks had started firing upon the ships moving toward
them. Cleverly concealed ballistas and catapults had sunk three ships
that had approached too close, but the fleet still came on. One of
William's most prized possessions was a spyglass, given him as a gift
years before by Duke James. It had the usual properties of any good
telescope, magnifying things to about a dozen times their normal size,
but it also possessed an unusual attribute: it could pierce illusions.

James,

seemingly reticent to discuss its origins, had never revealed how he
had come by the item. He studied the approaching command ship and saw
the hideous demon crouching amidships. Despite his revulsion, he
studied the creature. All those nearby were being controlled by mystic
chains and collars. The expression on the demon's face was difficult to
read, for it possessed nothing remotely like human features. Pug had
warned Prince Patrick, James, and William of what had occurred
regarding the death of the Emerald Queen and her replacement by a
demon, but that information was being kept from all but a handful of
officers. William and James had decided that there was enough for the
men to worry about without having them fear the might of a demon lord.

William turned the glass ninety degrees, and the demon vanished from
view. The illusionary woman who sat there was regal and beautiful and
in an odd way even more frightening in aspect than the demon, who wore
his rage and hate naked on his face for the world to see. William
returned the glass to the position that let him see through illusion
and the demon popped back into view. William put down the glass.

"Orders," he said calmly, and one of the palace pages stepped forward.

The squires were serving with the defenders along the wall, as aides to
the various officers, and the pages were serving as runners. For a
brief second William looked at the eager face of the boy who was ready
to carry his orders wherever he was bidden. The boy couldn't have been
more than thirteen or fourteen years of age. For a brief instant,
William was tempted to tell the boy to run, to leave the city as fast
as his young legs could carry him; then he said, "Tell the dock command
to wait until they've gotten close, then I want everything fired at
that large ship with the green hull; that's their command ship, and I
want it sunk."

The boy ran off and William turned to look. It was probably a futile
gesture; the demon's ship was almost certainly afforded the most
protection of any in the fleet. Reports came in quickly that the enemy
fleet had landed
up and down the coast, and units of cavalry had harried the north most
eastern gate. William considered his options and called for another
messenger. When the boy voiced he was ready, William said, "Run down
to the courtyard and tell one of the riders there to carry orders to
the eastern gate. Seal the city." As the boy turned, William said,
"Page." sir?"

"Take a horse and go with the rider; leave the city and
tell Captain von Darkmoor it's time to head east. You stay with him."

The boy looked confused at being told to leave, but he simply said,
"Sir," and ran off. A captain of the royal guards glanced at the Knight
Marshal who shook his head.

"I might spare one of them at least," said
William. The captain nodded grimly. The enemy fleet was attempting to
dock. Lines snaked out from the ships as those on the railings
attempted to throw loops around the cleats on the dockside. Arrows
rained down on any who did not shield themselves, and men of the
invading army fell into the water, their bodies pierced by multiple
shafts. But the first ship, then the second one, got a rope ashore and
they were slowly hauled in close to the docks. The only place they
were unable to close was where the earlier three ships had sunk. Ships
beyond were tossed lines, and William saw their plan. Originally they
thought they'd see a slow siege, with an orderly docking once this
portion of the city was secured. But now he saw that there would be no
attempt to move empty ships away from the docks.

Only a few ships would actually tie to the docks, but they would act as
shields for those farther out. They would be tossed grapples, and soon
the ships would be tied off. A raft of ships would extend out into the
bay, a platform that would let thousands of invaders race from deck to
deck, to land on the d cks of Krondor, across the breadth of the
waterfront. It was a dangerous ploy, for if the defenders were
successful in starting fires on any of the ships, all were at risk.

When the Queen's ship was close enough, every war engine within range
launched an attack. A hundred heavy boulders flew through the air,
accompanied by a dozen flaming bales of fire-oil-soaked hay. As
William had suspected, all met an invisible barrier and bounced or slid
off. He was pleased to notice that one large boulder crashed back onto
another ship, which wasn't protected, doing significant damage to the
soldiers packed tightly on the decks. William turned to order as much
fire oil directed at the front most ships as possible. The flames
exploded along the entire length of the balcony. William was thrown
backward as if batted by a blinding hand of fire, and lay stunned on
the floor of the palace balcony. Blinking away tears, he could barely
see, and everything was tinged red. After a moment he realized his eyes
were burned and bloody. The only reason he wasn't completely blind was
that he had glanced behind him when the attack occurred. He felt around
and saw a dim shape next to him, which groaned when he touched it. A
pair of hands lifted him and a voice said, "Marshal?" He recognized the
voice of one of the pages, who had been standing back in the room.

"What happened?" William asked in a hoarse croak.

"Flames erupted along
the wall, and everyone ... is burned."

"Captain Reynard?"

"I think he's dead, sir." Voices from the hall shouted and men came
running in Who's there?" William could see only shadowy shapes.

"Lieutenant Franklin, my lord."

"Water, please," said William, and he
felt the lieutenant take him from the squire, holding him up as he made
his way to a chair. In his nose he could smell only the stench of his
own burned hair and flesh, and no matter how he blinked, he couldn't
clear his eyes of the blinding red tears. Once he was sitting, William
said, "Lieutenant, tell me what is happening." The lieutenant ran to
the balcony.

"They're sending men ashore. It's a dreadful fire we're
pouring on them, but they're coming, sir." The squire brought a basin
of water and a clean cloth and William applied it to his face. The
pain was incredible, but he used a trick. taught him as a child by one
of his teachers at Stardock to ignore it. The water didn't help his
vision much, and he considered that he might be blinded for what would
be the remainder of his life, however short that might be. The loud
sound of wood shattering followed by shouts and the sounds of fighting
below caused William to ask, "Lieutenant, would you please tell me what
is happening in the courtyard?" The lieutenant said, "Sir, they've
crashed the royal dock. Enemy soldiers are landing." William said to
the squire, "Son, would you please help me to my feet?" The boy said,
"Yes, my lord," attempting to sound calm, but failing to hide the fear
in his voice. William felt young arms around his waist as he stood.

"Turn me toward the door," he said calmly. The sounds of fighting were
now echoing from the halls outside the room, as well as coming from the
courtyard below as

crying. Suddenly there was a shout, and William saw a shadowy form
heading toward him. He heard more than felt the blade of Lieutenant
Franklin slash out, and the attacker fell back. Another shadow appeared
to the left of the first, on William's right hand, and the nearly blind
Knight-Marshal of Krondor lashed out with his sword. Then William,
child of Pug the magician and Katala of
enemy warriors mounted the flight of stairs leading to William's
command center.

"Lieutenant Franklin," said William.

"Sir?" came the
calm reply.

"Stand on my left, sir." The officer did as he was bidden,
and William slowly pulled his sword from its scabbard.

"Stand behind
me boy," he said softly as the sound of fighting in the halls grew
louder. The boy did as he was asked, but he kept a firm grip around the
Knight-Marshal's waist, helping the injured man stand upright. William
wished he had something to say that would make this better for the boy,
but he knew it would end in terror and pain. He just prayed it was
quick. As the sounds of fighting got closer, and those remaining
soldiers in the room rushed to defend the door, William finally said,
"Page?"

"Sir," came the soft, fearful voice from behind him.

"What is
your name?"

"Terrance, sir."

"Where are you from?"

"My father is the
Squire of Belmont, sir."

"You've done well. Now help me stand fast.

It wouldn't do to have the Knight-Marshal of Krondor die on his knees."

"Sir .. ." From the boy's voice, William could tell he was
the Thuril Hill People, born on an alien world, felt pain, quickly
followed by darkness.

james moved slowly through the knee-deep sludge. The echoes of
fighting rang through the sewers and his men walked with swords drawn.

They opened shuttered lanterns from time to time to get their bearings,
but mostly they negotiated through the murk by the faint light that
came from above as they passed below culverts and drains from the
streets.

"We're here," said a voice.

"Give the signal," said James, and
a shrill whistle was blown. one of the men kicked open a door and James
could hear other doors being opened nearby. He followed the first two
men into the cellar, and up a flight of stairs. They burst into a room
illuminated by candlelight because it was Still below ground level. '
As James expected, resistance was light, but he was almost split by a
crossbow bolt fired from behind a table, overturned to provide shelter.

"Stop shooting!" he shouted.

"We're not here to fight." A moment of
silence was followed by a voice saying, "James?"

"Hello, Lysle." A tall
old man stood up from behind the table and said, "I'm surprised to see
you here."

"Well, I thought as long as I was passing by, I'd give you a
chance to get out of here."

"Things are that bad?"

"Worse,"said the
Duke, motioning for the man who went by Lysle Rigger, Brian, Henry, and
a dozen other names, but who, by any name was the Upright Man, the
leader of Krondor's Guild of Thieves: the Mockers. James looked
around.

"Things haven't changed much except it used to be more
crowded."

The man whom James would always think of as Lysle said, "Most of the
brethren are out of the city, running for their lives."

"You stayed?"

Lysle shrugged.

"I'm an optimist." Then he said, "Or a fool." He
sighed.

"It's a tiny Kingdom, the Mockers, but it's my Kingdom." James
said, "True. Come along. There's one place we may survive." James and
his soldiers took Lysle and a scruffy assortment of thieves in tow and
moved back into the sewers.

"Where are we going?" asked Lysle as they
slogged their way through the muck.

"You know where the river enters
the city beside the abandoned mil?"

"The one that's paved over?"

"That's the one," said Jimmy.

"We used it when we were smuggling with
Trevor Hull and his lot, too many years ago to remember. If you'd been
in Krondor when the Mockers and Hull's smugglers were working together,
you'd have known about it. There's a huge staging area we've been
stocking for months."

"For months?" said Lysle.

"How did you manage
that without us noticing?" Laughing, James said, "From above. We did
it during the day, when you and your thieves were asleep below ground."

"Why did you come fetch me?" James said, "Well, you are the only
brother I know about, so I couldn't let you die alone in that
basement."

"Brother? Are you sure?"

"Sure enough to wager on it."

"I've wondered about that," said Lysle.

"Do you remember your mother?"

"A little," said James.

"She Was murdered when I was a toddler."

"At the Sign of the Boar's Head?" ,i dont know. it could be. I was
taken off the streets and raised by the Mockers. You?"

"I was seven
when my mother was killed. I had a little brother. I thought he was
dead, too. I was packed off to Romney and raised there."

Father didn't want both his sons close by, I guess. Maybe we were
targets for whoever bned our mother." As they reached a huge
intersection of culverts, with water flowing down from above to spray
the center of the passages, Lysle said, "I always thought it odd that
my foster parents in Romney raised me to work for a thief in Krondor."

"Well," said James as they moved around the small waterfall, 'we'll
never know. Father is dead many years and we can't ask him."

"Did you
ever find out who he was? I never did." James grinned in the dark.

"Yes, I did, as a matter of fact. I heard his voice once and heard it
again many years later, and after doing some snooping, I sussed out who
was the original Upright Man."

"Who was he?"

"Did you ever have the
displeasure of meeting a particularly surly and evil chandler whose
shop was down by the south point, near the palace?"

"Can't say as I
remember one like that. What was his name?"

"Donald. If you'd met
him, you'd have remembered him as he was a right nasty piece of work."

"A bit of a criminal genius, though."

"Like father, like sons," said
James. Reaching a place in the long passage where they were walking up
an incline, Lysle said, "Are we going to get out of this alive?"

"Probably not," answered James, 'but then no one gets out of life
alive, do they?"

Erik heard the trumpet and instantly began shouting orders. They had
been constantly fighting with smaller elements of the invading forces,
and had reports that similar fighting had begun near the sea gate, the
northwestern gate. And at that point only a few men had been sighted
near the southern gate of the city, which was fine with Erik, as he had
ordered as many men to the northern gate as possible. Both gates fed
refugees in a steady stream to the eastbound King's Highway. And a
mile east of where Erik and his companies stood, the two streams of
humanity would come together, forming a clogging, slow-moving body of
tired, frightened, and desperate people. Erik's mandate was to defend
the rear of that column of Kingdom citizens as long as possible. Erik
knew that meant halfway from here to Ravensburg if he was to judge
things. At some point the enemy would likely cease

"There is that. But you have a hedge?"

"You always hedge a bet," said
James.

"If there's a way to get out of here alive, this is it." He
indicated a large doorway, big enough to accommodate a wagon and team.

"I see what you) mean about being able to smuggle through here," said
Lysle as two soldiers opened the huge wooden doors. They swung open
silently, showing recent attention, and inside a bright light
illuminated a hundred soldiers, readying with bows, crossbows, and
swords.

"Here we are." Lysle let out a soft whistle of appreciation.

"I see you plan a warm welcome for whoever comes this way."

"Far warmer
than you imagine," said James. He motioned for Lysle and his half-dozen
Mockers to enter and said, "Welcome to the last bastion in Krondor."

After James and those with him were inside, the doors were shut with a
loud crack that had the ring of finality to it.

36I

harrying them. They had a city to sack and stores to replenish, and
while the invaders were winning many battles,

they were still disadvantaged from the long sea voyage. Of the Saaur,
Erik had seen little, and he wondered why they were being withheld
after the first contact. He couldn't spend much time trying to outwit
his adversary, for there was too much to react to: the enemy was
hurling small squads of raiders at his position. The battles were
short and intense, and Erik had won them all, but the men were tiring
and his casualties were mounting. He had commandeered a wagon in which
he had loaded his wounded, sending them east with the refugees. Now he
heard the trumpet telling him the gates were to close, and as he
started organizing a retreat, a young boy came riding up to him.

"Captain?"

"Yes, son, what is it?" Erik saw the boy was dressed in the
uniform of a palace page. Tears were streaming down his face.

"Lord
William ordered me to tell you to withdraw." Erik knew that, from the
trumpet, so he had no idea why the boy was here.

"What else?"

"I'm to
go with you." Then Erik understood. At least one of the palace boys
was spared.

"Ride east, and you'll find a wagon with wounded in it.

Attach yourself to them, and help tend the injured."

"Yes, sir." The
boy rode off and Erik returned to the business of managing a retreat.

Everything he had read in Willliam's library had told him an orderly
retreat was the most difficult thing to accomplish in a battle. The
tendency to turn and run was nearly overwhelming, and fighting a rear
guard action was alien to men who had been taught to move forward when
fighting. But he had discussed this with William in theory over the
last two years, and in particular since getting his new

command earlier in the week, and Erik was determined that no force of
his would be turned to rout. Throughout the afternoon the sounds of
battle carried to Erik from distant locations, even though his command
was being left alone. He decided it was because the invaders were in
the city and didn't see the need to press the attack from the south or
east. He also knew that would change once James and William sprang
their surprises. A distant thud and, a moment later, a huge plume of
~dark smoke, and Erik knew the first of their nasty surprises was
unleashed. Barrels of Quegan fire oil had been lashed to the supports
of the docks, as well as laid in the basements and lower floors of the
buildings that faced them, back for three city blocks. At the moment
they were fired, the entire waterfront of the city erupted in a
conflagration few could imagine, and the enemy soldiers within a
hundred feet of any building were dead. Those not burned to a cinder
died from lack of air as the fire stole it from their lungs. Erik cast
a glance to the southwest, toward the palace, dreading the thought that
the Emerald Queen's soldiers might be within the keep. Then a
shattering blast sounded and Erik knew what had happened. A lieutenant
whom Erik didn't know well, named Ronald Bumaris, said, "What was that,
Captain?" Erik said, "That was the palace, Lieutenant." The lieutenant
said nothing, waiting for orders. After a half-hour, the flood of
humanity out of the northernmost gate in the city fell off to a
trickle, and Erik ordered his men to form up for a rear guard. He
watched as the civilians moved eastward, toward the coming night, and
then he turned to the west, as fires burned in the distance, and he
waited.

Honest John's was doing its usual business, and Macros and Miranda
moved through the crowd. They waved

II

politely to their host, but declined his invitation to a drink. They
moved purposefully to the stairs and mounted them to the upper
concourse, to the gallery of shops. Rea g the shop of Mustafa, they
entered. The old man looked up and said, "So it's you again?"

"Yes,"
said Miranda.

"Did you catch up to Pug?" Miranda smiled.

"You could say so." '"at
can I do for you? A divination?" Miranda sat in the chair opposite the
old fortune teller, and said, "Do you recognize my father?" Mustafa
squinted, and then said, "No, should I?"

"I am Macros."

"Oh," said the
old fortune teller.

"I heard you were dead. Or missing. Something
like that."

"I need information," said Miranda.

"I deal in such."

"I
need a way into the world of Shila."

"You wouldn't like it," said
Mustafa.

"It's overrun by demons. Some idiot unsealed the barrier
between the Fifth Circle and that world, and now it is just gone to
hell." Macros laughed a dry laugh.

"That's one way of putting it." Why
do you need to go there?"

"To close two rifts," said Miranda.

"One
between Shila and "Midkemia, then one between Shila and the demon
realm-' "That's difficult." The old man rubbed his chin.

"I have
information that would prove useful, I think. I can tell you a doorway
to a location not far from the city of Ahsart, which is where I think
you want to go."

"How do you know that?" asked Macros.

"I wouldn't be
much of a dealer in information if I didn't know that, would I?"

"How
much?" asked Miranda. Mustafa set a price, the souls of a dozen
children who

had never been born, and Miranda stood up.

"Perhaps Querl Dagat will
prove less outrageous in his price." At the mention of one of his chief
rivals, Mustafa said, "Wait a minute, Make me a counteroffer."

"I have
a Word of Power, one which will gain you a greater wish."

"What's the
catch?I "You have to cast it on Midkemia." The old man sighed.

"Midkemia, by all reports, is presently a less than hospitable place."

"That's one of the reasons we need to close those portals. If we do,
then once the mess is cleaned up, you can travel to Midkemia, cast your
wish, and be back before you know it." Sighing, the old man said, "I
would like to lose a few years. I don't age here, as you know, but I
discovered the Hall late in life, and most of the youth cures I've
discovered involve less than appealing requirements, such aseating the
still-beating heart of your lover, or murdering babies in their
cradles. My ethics do not permit such."

"If I were you," suggested
"Miranda, "I'd wish for eternal good health. You can be young and
still have problems."

"That's not a bad idea. I don't suppose you have
two of those wishes, do you?" Miranda shook her head.

"Very well, I'll
take it."

"Done." The old fortune teller reached under the table and
pulled out a map.

"We're here," he said, pointing to a large black
square surrounded on four sides by lines that curved away after
touching.

"When you leave, tell the door witch you want exit number
six hundred fifty-nine." His finger stabbed the map.

"That will put
you here. Go right, move down sixteen doors on the right remember
the doors are staggered and if you count on the left, you'll go through
the wrong one. The sixteenth door will open into a cave
on Shila, about one day's ride by horse to Ahsart. I assume travel
once you're there won't be a problem."

"It won't."

"Just travel due
south and you'll see the city off to your right. Now, to give you a
little insight into what you face," he said, putting away the map, 'let
me tell you a bit about demons.

"There are seven circles of what men
call hell. The upper level is just a very unpleasant place populated
by creatures
not too different from those you meet on Midkemia. The Seventh Circle
is populated by those you know as the Dread. They are life-drainers
and beings of alien energy; they can't exist in your world without
killing anything they touch. They are so at odds with life as we know
it they aren't welcome in Honest John's." Miranda took that to mean
something significant, but without a context she had no idea what it
meant. But being impatient to get on with the task at hand, she
ignored the comment.

"The demons of the Fifth Circle aren't quite as
alien as that. A particularly dvihzed one may wander in here from time
to time, and as long as he doesn't try to eat the other patrons, John
will put up with his business."

"What has this to do with us?" asked
Macros.

"For a sorcerer of wisdom and power you tend to the impatient,
don't you?" asked Mustafa. He held up his hand as Macros began to
protest.

"Silence. AH will be made clear.

"The demons live on life.

Much as you do, by eating plants or animals, they eat flesh and life.

What you call life, mind, or spirit, is like drink to them. Flesh
builds their bodies, much as it does yours or mine, but spirit builds
their powers, and their cunning.

"An ancient demon has devoured many
enemies and will keep captured souls against the need to consume them
later."

"I don't understand," said Miranda.

"Demons are like ... sharks. Do you have sharks on Midkemia?"

"Yes,"
said Miranda.

"They swim in bunches, but for reasons unknown they will
turn on one of their own, tearing him apart. If they enter a feeding
frenzy, one shark may be eaten by another while it is in turn eating a
third. Demons can be like that.

"They eat one another when there is no
other source of spirit and flesh. When they find their way into a
world on a higher plane, they pillage it, glutting themselves on flesh
and spirit. As they steal spirit, or mind, they grow more cunning, but
if they lack that new source, they become stupid. So the more powerful
demons need more minds to keep from getting stupid."

"I think I
understand," said Macros.

"Yes," said Miranda.

"The demon who hurt Pug
was betraying his master so he could feed unopposed in our world."

Mustafa said, "That is likely. They do not possess what we would call
a strong sense of loyalty."

"Thank you," said Miranda, starting to
leave.

"Wait, there's more."

"What?" asked Macros.

"If you trap the
demons between their own realm, where they can endure without needing
to feed, and Midkemia, they will eventually destroy all life on Shila.

Then they will begin feeding on one another."

"Do we care?" asked
Macros.

"Not for the demons. Eventually there will be one demon left
alive. probably their King Maarg if he's come through, or Tugor, his
captain. And without a source of food, he'll weaken, and eventually
die. But before he becomes a starving, stupid demon, he's going to be
a very angry, very powerful demon."

"Which means ... asked Miranda.

which means, just make sure you lock the door behind you when you
leave." Miranda blinked, then started to laugh. Rising, she said,
"We'll do that."

"Not only the one into Midkemia; bar the door into the
Hall when you return. An enraged demon king loose in the Hall would be
most unpleasant."

"I'll remember that."

"What about my payment?" Mustafa asked as he stood. Miranda smiled and
there was an evil cast to her lips as she said, "I'll tell you on the
way back." Mustafa sat down as they left his little office and said,
"Why am I always such a fool for a good-looking woman?" He pounded the
table.

"Get the money first!"

SEVENTEEN

Destruction

Erik swore.

"Yes, sir," said Sergeant Harper.

"That's how I would have
put it." The message was from Greylock, and Erik now understood why the
attacks throughout the previous two days had been so intermittent. The
attackers had filtered through the woods and were now attacking
Greylock's defenses, a half-day's ride to the cast. Greylock's message
was calm, and he indicated he was having little trouble with the
attackers, but stated his concern for the refugees, who were probably
being preyed upon along the route of their retreat. Erik's men were
roughly organized in a camp at the moment the message arrived. The
flow of people fleeing the city was down to a trickle. Erik had paused
to talk to a few, but none of them could offer anything remotely like
intelligence; they were too frightened, had no idea what they had seen,
and were too concerned with escaping a city on the verge of being
sacked. One man was still slightly wet from having swum out through an
underground street that he had known since he was a boy, his pitiful
belongings in a pack on his back. He only knew that a major portion of
the city was afire. Erik didn't need him to tell him that. He could
see the column of smoke rising to the west. He had seen the smoke as
the city of Khaipur had burned, from a distance of over a hundred
miles, a column of black smoke that had risen

thousands of feet into the air until it had flattened out like a grey
umbrella. The wind had blown the scent of smoke to them for days, and
a fine soot fell for hundreds of miles. Erik had no doubt that when
Krondor fell she would meet the same fate. Erik gave orders, and the
men hurried to obey. He detailed half his company, the heavy lancers,
to follow behind the civilians, supported by a squad of bowmen who had
wandered into Erik's area after being cut off from their
own command. The light cavalry and horse-bowmen Erik took to ride to
Greylock's position. As he had feared, Erik had gone no more than a
mile when he encountered the first sign of raider activity. Two wagons
burned, and the ground around them was littered with the dead. Several
women were stripped and obviously had been raped before being killed,
and not one pair of decent boots or trinket of any possible worth was
left behind. Erik inspected the wagons and noticed a grain trail
leading away from one.

"They're hungry," he said to Sergeant Harper.

"Shall we hunt them down, Captain?" Erik said, "No. I'd love to, but
we need to support Greylock. If they reach the foothills to the north
they'd turn eastward, and we'll encounter the swine soon enough."

Harper said, "Yes, sir." They rode as fast as they could, permitting
the horses rest when absolutely necessary, as Erik was determined to
reach Greylock by sundown if at all possible. He knew some of the
horses would be lame by the end of the ride, but he also knew that if
the plans for the defense of the Kingdom were to be realized, they
couldn't allow the enemy to quickly overrun the first positions of
resistance. Krondor was going to fall, and it had only three days. Erik
surmised that the Emerald Queen and her magicians were desperate to get
ashore. That meant stores were
scarce. The use of magic to blow up the defenses of the outer harbor
stunned Erik. The only time the Emerald Queen's Pantathians had
resorted to magic was the light bridge across the river Vedra, and
]Plug had destroyed that, causing thousands of injuries and death.

Erik had heard the report from a messenger from William with disbelief,
but the fires on the docks proved the enemy was m Krondor. As they
rode, Erik wondered how Roo was faring. Had he gotten safely to his
estates?

Roo sat heavily on the chair, holding a mug of cold water freshly drawn
from the well. He said, "Thank you, Helen." Helen Jacoby and the
children were waiting in the anteroom of the estate house. Roo had
just ridden up, after a desperate night of avoiding raiders, fighting,
and keeping his wagons together. He had come to his estates the day
before and, finding things peaceful, had returned down the road to join
Luis in seeing the wagons safely home. The frequency with which he
sighted invading soldiers, a day's ride east of the city, told him more
than he wanted to know about the battle for Krondor. He had seen
firsthand the sacking of a city by the Emerald Queen and had no desire
to repeat that experience. Three additional wagons had been sent ahead
two days before, and now servants were busily filling them with
household possessions for the journey eastward. Given the rapidity of
the enemy's advance, Roo was going to order them gone at sunrise,
ignoring whatever was left behind. He now decided the entire train of
wagons was going straight to Darkmoor, rather than stop at Ravensburg.

He'd halt long enough to offer Erik's mother and Nathan, and perhaps
Milo, Rosalin and her family, the opportunity to come along. He owed
Erik that much, at least. But he wouldn't stop. The enemy was moving
much too fast, and Krondor hadn't held as he had hoped it would.

37I

One more day, he thought as he drank deeply of the cool, fresh water.

If the invaders had been delayed one more day, he'd be free of worry.

He also knew he would have to ride out this evening to the Esterbrook
estates and insist that Sylvia and her father leave at once. They
would have no way to know the enemy was as close as it was.

He could provide quarters for them in his inns in Darkmoor and Malac's
Cross without Karli becoming too suspicious, he thought; after all,
half the population of Krondor was on the road eastward. Finishing his
water, he set it down and asked, "Where's Karli?"

"She's upstairs with
your cousin Duncan." Roo smiled.

"I've been wondering where he's
been." He stood up.

"I'd best go see what they're doing." Helen looked
concerned.

"He said something about helping her move some things." Roo
looked at her.

"We still have plenty of time to get out of here. Stop
worrying." She smiled and said, "I'll try." Roo went upstairs and found
them in Roo and Karli's bedroom. Duncan was lifting a wooden box
filled with Karli's best clothing.

"I have been looking for you for two
days," said Roo to his cousin. Duncan smiled.

"Things got pretty
confused in Krondor. I went looking for you at Barret's, but you
weren't there. By the time I got to the office, Luis told me you were
back at Barret's, and then when I got back to the coffee house, and
again found you not there, I headed back to our office.

"Things were
pretty nasty in the streets by then, and when I finally reached them,
your wagon train had headed Out. I saw the mess at the northern gate,
so I doubled back to the southern gate and rode here. I figured you'd
want a reliable sword here to protect your family." He grinned
as he took the box and carried it past Roo, then down the stairs. Karli
said, "Do you believe him?"

"No," said Roo.

"He was probably with some
whore when the panic set in, and he came straight here. But at least
he's right about my wanting you protected." Karli came and put her arms
around her husband.

"I'm afraid, Roo." He made reassuring noises and
patted her shoulders.

"Don't worry. We'll be fine."

"Krondor is the
only home I've known."

"We'll come back when this is over. I've made
one fortune, and I can make another. We'll rebuild. But first we must
see the children to a safe place." At mention of the children, her own
fear was put aside.

"When do we leave?"

"At first light. Luis is
bringing up the last wagons, with as many mercenary guards as he could
scrounge up, and we're going to caravan to Darkmoor. I've got horses
and equipment to repair wagons there, and once we've rested, we'll head
down to Malac's Cross."

"Why there?" Roo considered telling her what he
knew, then decided it would only confuse and frighten her more.

"Because the enemy will be stopped at Darkmoor," he said.

"Malac's
Cross will be far enough away from the fighting for us all to be safe."

Karli took Roo at his word and hurried downstairs to oversee the
packing. Helen watched the children, and Roo was impressed with the
calm manner in which she reassured them, keeping them diverted and
entertained. He spent a few minutes with the four of them, listening to
their prattle children's issues of importance, he assumed. little of
which made sense to him. Toward the end of the day, a cold meal was
prepared, and everyone ate. The presence of Duncan seemed odd to

Roo, as Duncan had almost no interest in Roo's family, despite his
attempts to charm Karli over the years. If anything, to Roo he
appeared distracted. When the meal was over, Roo said, "Duncan, I want
you to wait down by the stable and let me know when Luis comes in with
the last wagon." Duncan nodded amiably.

"After he gets here, I'm going
to take some of the men and sweep the grounds. You never know when
some of those invaders n-fight come wandering down from the hills, or
if local bandits are going to try to
take opportunity of the confusion." Roo glanced at the two women and
the four children, shooting Duncan a black look. Duncan quickly
recovered by saying, "It's almost certain they aren't around, but it
never hurts to be cautious." After he left, Helen said, "Rupert, is it
dangerous?" Her calm and frank manner kept the children from sensing
distress, and Roo thanked the gods she was here. He said, "War is
always dangerous, especially when the invader is hungry and far away
from home. That's why we're taking everything with us that might serve
him, and what we can't take with us, we'll destroy."

"Destroy?" said
Karli, looking confused.

"Not my furnishings and things, certainly?"

Roo decided it best not to mention that the invaders would most likely
smash everything in the house in frustration and burn it to the ground.

He said, "No, merely that we'll burn the food we can't carry and make
sure there are no weapons or tools left behind. If we can't take a
wagon with us, we'll smash the spokes and break the yoke. If a horse
goes lame, we'll put it down, and poison the meat. We'll dig up the
garden tonight and make sure there's nothing here to help the enemy."

Karli looked very distressed at the news of losing her garden, but she
remained silent. Abigail said, "Father, where are we going?"

Roo smiled and said, "You're going to ride on a wagon tomorrow, my
darling. It's a long trip, and you'll have to be on your best
behavior. But we're going to the town where your father was born, and
we'll go on to see other interesting places. Won't that be fun?"

"No,"
said Abigail.

"I don't want to." Helen smiled and said, "She says that
a lot these days." Roo looked at Karli, who said, "She doesn't know
what any of this is about." Roo said, "Children, we're going on a
journey, and it will be a grand adventure." Helmut grinned and drooled,
while Helen's boy, Willem, said, "Is this like the sagas?" Roo grinned
at him.

"Yes, just like the sagas. We're off on a great adventure,
and you must be very brave and do exactly what your mother and Karli
tell you. There will be men with swords all around, and you'll see new
places and great sights."

"Will there be fighting?" asked the boy with
wide eyes. Roo sat back and said, "If the gods are kind, no. But if
there is, we'll protect you." He glanced from face to face, from the
tiny perfection of the children to his wife's nervous smile to Helen's
resolute expression, and said, "We will certainly protect you all."

M reached Greylock's position at nightfall. He had engaged the Emerald
Queen's forces a half-dozen times along the way, and had witnessed the
carriage they had left behind. Bodies littered the roadside, and it
was clear that their first concern had been food. A few items of
value, coins, jewelry, and the like, were found scattered around, but
not one edible item could be seen. After exchanging the password, Erik
and his company rode in. Owen greeted Erik.

"How are things? Bad?"

he asked.

"Worse," said Erik, dismounting. He allowed one of Grey
lock's men to take the horse to tend to it and followed the former
Swordmaster of Darkmoor to a campfire some distance behind the
barricades they had erected across the road. Erik left his own officers
and sergeants to see to the horses and get the men fed. Greylock
pointed to a pot of steaming stew and said, "Help yourself." Erik took
a wooden bowl and spoon and suddenly realized he was starving. As he
filled the bowl, Greylock fetched him a small loaf of bread and a
wineskin.

"Tell me what you know,"he said after Erik had shoveled in a
couple of heaping spoonfuls of the savory stew and taken a drink of
wine.

"If Krondor's not fallen this day, it will by tomorrow, no doubt.

The palace is gone." Both men knew that meant it was almost certain
Knight Marshal William was dead. Duke James might or might not have
escaped. The Prince and the rest of his court, those nobles not in the
field were now safely in Darkmoor if everything had gone according to
plan. Greylock said, "We've been pretty quiet. A few of the enemy's
scouts have come close, but we chase them away, and when they see our
fortifications, they seem inclined to move on." Erik nodded as he
chewed another mouthful of stew. After he swallowed he said, "If things
are going according to plan, they'll waste a lot of time wandering
north and south before they realize they've got to come back this way.

Maybe we can pick up some of the time we lost at Krondor." Greylock ran
his hand over his face, and Erik could see that the older man was as
tired as he was.

"I hope so. There's still a lot to be done." Erik put
down his empty bowl and drank again from the wineskin.

"Well, there
are no more refugees behind us, so at least we no longer have to worry
about a rear guard.,

owen nodded.

"Now we just defend, making the bastards pay for every
inch of ground." Then he grinned at Erik.

"No offense," he said,
remembering Erik's own sinister birth.

"None taken," said Erik.

"I'm a
bastard by birth; these invaders work at it." He sighed.

"I've been
more tired, but I can't remember when."

Owen nodded.

"It's the pressure. The always being on guard. Well, as
you and your boys have to take over here while I pull back tomorrow,
we'll take the watch this night. You should be able to rest for one
night."

"Thanks, Owen." Greylock smiled, his narrow face looking almost
sinister in the firelight.

"I guess you should know. Prince Patrick
has named me a Knight- General."

"Congratulations, I think," said Erik,
'sir."

"Commiserations are more like it. I've got Calis's charge,
defending the entire range from the Dimwood-to Dorgin, and I think I'm
going to wish you had the job before I'm done." Erik said, "I'm in over
my head already. I can't begin to understand what it is I'm supposed
to do from here."

"You're just tired. Get some sleep and in the
morning you'll have a better grasp on things. If you forget everything
else, just remember you've got to slow the bastards down. We've got to
hold them in the mountains for the next three months."

Erik sighed.

"Until winter."

"When the snows fall, and they're on the
west side of the mountains, we'll know we've won. They'll starve and
die while we wait for spring, when we can chase them back where they
came from." Erik nodded, but he found his eyes were getting heavy and
he couldn't think.

"I'm going to find where that soldier took my
horse, get my blanket, and go to sleep."

"No need," said Owen, pointing
to a bedroll that had been made ready a short distance away.

"I had
that made
up for you. Your men are also being told to get some rest. You just
forget your worries this night, Erik."

"I won't argue," said Erik,
moving toward the bedroll. He removed his sword and got his boots off,
but he didn't
remember anything after that as he rolled himself in the blanket and
fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.

Roo kissed Karli on the cheek.

"I don't like this, Rupert," she said,
near tears as she spoke.

"I know, but I have to see that everything is
ready. Don't wait up for me, and take care of Helen and the children.

I'll be back before sunrise." They stood at the door of their estate
house, and Roo kissed his wife on the cheek, then stepped through the
door and closed it behind him. He hurried down to the servants'
building and barn, where a dozen of his wagons had been gathered when
they had arrived after sundown. Luis de Savona, one of his old
companions from Calis's army and now one of his most trusted aides, was
seeing to the refitting. Luis had spoken little of his past prior to
the day Roo met him in prison, save that he had once served a function
in the court of Rodez, the easternmost duchy but one in the Kingdom.

Roo didn't press him. Like many of those who had redeemed their lives
in service to the Crown, Luis preferred to forget what had gone before
and Roo respected that. There was something dark in Luis's nature, an
anger that threatened to erupt at the oddest times, but Roo trusted
him, one of the few men he did trust. And Roo felt the need of someone
dependable at that moment. Three times the mercenary guards and
Rupert's drivers had fought off raiders. Two drivers had been injured
and a couple of the mercenaries had deserted when the fighting looked
as if it was going badly, but while possessing a crippled right hand,
Luis was still a fearsome foe with a

I78

knife in his left hand. He had killed three raiders personally,
forcing the others to rethink their assessment of taking his wagon. Roo
said, "Luis, are we going to Luis nodded.

"Yes. We should probably
leave an hour c before, though, to steal a march on anyone coming down
the highway."

"It's not the highway I'm worried about," said Roo.

"Erik and the King's Army are holding the highway. It's the raiders
coming through the hills we have to worry about. Roo's estate, like
many of those settled to the east of the city, was far enough off the
highway that they couldn't know the condition of the highway once they
had left it.

"I've got to see Jacob Esterbrook," he said, motioning for
a fresh horse.

"I'll swing back by the highway and see if we still
hold it, or if we need to find another route."

"Find another route?"

Roo nodded.

"Yes, I know another way."

"Why don't you tell me now,
just in case?" asked Luis. Roo didn't like the idea of what 'just in
case' implied, but he agreed.

"There's a road Erik and I used to reach
Krondor, years ago. it's a small trail, really, but it will take
wagons. You'll have to drive them in single file." He outlined how to
get to the trail, little more than a goat path in places, but one over
which he had taken wagons more than once.

"You'll find a branch in the
trail as you reach the foothills; take the southeastern one and you'll
see the farms and vineyards to the north of Ravensburg. Pick up the
King's Highway there if you can." Luis nodded.

"When will you be
back?"

"If I don't encounter trouble, I'll be back before sunrise. If
I'm not here an hour before sunrise, start without me . Tell Karli I'll
catch up with you." Luis looked around.

"Duncan?"

"He's supposed to be
conducting a sweep around the estate, making sure we're not bothered
for a while."

Luis nodded. He and Duncan had shared quarters for almost a year, and
during that time had developed an abiding dislike for each other. Luis
didn't trust Duncan and
put up with him only for Roo's sake. The horse was brought over to Roo,
who mounted.

"I'll see you sometime tomorrow." Luis waved good-bye as
Roo rode out, knowing what was unsaid: that if Luis didn't see Roo
tomorrow, it meant Roo was dead.

Miranda said, "I don't like this at all." They had gathered in the cave
of the Oracle of Aal, after Macros and Miranda had returned to
"Midkemia, summoning the others. Pug answered, "Who does, but we've got
to be in two places at the same time." Hanam growled and said, "Time
grows short. My ability to contain the rage of this creature and not
eat is about at its limit." The Saaur magician in demon form turned to
Pug.

"You know what must be done, what must be said." Calis had sat
listening to the exchange, silently observing the other four in the
room. He finally said, "There is a chance none of you will return."

While he spoke of all of them, his eyes focused on Miranda. She nodded.

"We know the risk." He sighed.

"I should be at Darkmoor." Pug said,
"No. I can't tell you why." He glanced at Macros and Miranda.

"Things
are hidden from us, and we sense that it is necessary to have these
things hidden, for our own protection and that of others, but I know
down to the fiber of my being that you must remain here." Miranda and
her father had found the door in the Hall and had entered it to the
cave on Shila. They had watched from the mouth of the cave as demon
flyers sped across the sky, and as demons of all sizes could be seen
coming from the direction of where they had been told the city of

Ahsart lay. After seeing far more demons than they could defeat, they
had retreated to the Hall, returned to Midkemia and sought out Pug.

They had spent two days evolving a plan, and now it was determined that
Macros and Miranda would return to the tunnels beneath the Ratn'gary
Mountains, while Pug and Hanam would go to Shila. Hanam in demon form
would not attract attention, while Pug could better keep himself
invisible than Macros could himself and Miranda. Miranda and her father
would attempt to seal the rift into Midkemia permanently, as Macros had
once done with the rift between midkemia and Kelewan, while Pug and
Hanam would attempt to close the entrance to the demon realm. Miranda
glanced at her father, then at Pug, and said, "I need to speak with
Calis, alone." She rose and moved to where the half-elf warrior sat,
indicating he should walk with her. They moved past the gigantic form
of the sleeping oracle, a dragon of immense proportions who lay deep in
a sleep of regeneration. Surrounding her were men, both young and old,
the attendants who were also passing along their knowledge; the Oracles
of Aal and their attendants would die in their time, but their
knowledge would live on as long as new bodies could be found to contain
their minds. When they had walked far enough away from the others for
some privacy, Miranda said, "What worries you?" Calis laughed.

"Everything." Then he said, "I fear I will never see you again." She
sighed and touched his cheek.

"If that is our fate, we must accept it.

If not, we shall see each other again." With elven understatement, he
raised an eyebrow slightly and said, "Pug?" She nodded.

"There are
things that must be." She came close and put her head upon his chest,
saying, "In time you will know so much more than you do now, and you

38I

will remember what we had as a gift, precious and wonderful, but you'll
also realize that it was a lesson, for us both, that we might better
learn what it is that we truly needed." He gathered her into his arms
and held her tightly for a moment, then slowly released her. When his
arms were again at his sides, he said, "I will not claim to understand,
but I do accept what you say as true."

She touched his face again and, looking into his eyes, said, "Sweet
Calis. Always willing to serve. Always willing to give. Yet you have
never asked of anyone for yourself. Why is that?" He smiled and
shrugged.

"It is who I am. I have much to learn. As you delight in
reminding me, I am still young. I feel that by service I can learn, and
through learning, I can discover who I am."

"You are someone wonderful
and unique," she said softly, kissing his cheek. He nodded.

"While I
wait in this cave, can you at least give me a hint to what it is I'm to
do?" Miranda said, "I know only what Pug has told me."

"Then let me ask
him one more time." He stepped past her and walked to where Pug and
Macros were waiting with Hanam. Calis said, "If you do not know why I'm
here, can you at least tell me what you suspect?" Pug turned and
pointed to a huge dais that sat on the stone floor, within a few feet
of the slumbering dragon.

"That is why," he said, and everyone in the
room felt a shift, as if they were moving slightly, yet no one budged.

But where the empty dais had been, now a giant glowing green gem
rested, a golden sword embedded in it. It pulsed with a life of its
own and Calis instantly felt drawn to it and went over to it.

"The
Lifestone," he said quietly. Pug said, "One has to be shifted slightly
in time to see it."

Calis looked at the sword.

"My father's sword." That portion of the
Valheru which sought to seize this, embodied in the form of
Draken-Korin," said Pug, 'threw itself across this stone, and your
father drove that sword deep into it. I do not know why, but that
ended the Riftwar. The Valheru were drawn deep within its facets, and
your father refused to risk retrieving his sword." Calis nodded, not
taking his eyes from the gem.

"I will study this thing." Miranda
turned to Pug and said, "We can wait no longer." Pug, Macros, and Hanam
gathered, and Pug went to stand next to the demon. In his mind's eye
he pictured the device over the door into Shila, the active glyph that
indicated which doorway they needed in the Hall. Miranda had memorized
it, then given that memory to Pug, so it was if he himself had stood
before it. He nodded once and blinked out of existence with the demon.

Miranda cast one last look at Calis, then nodded to her father, took
his hand, and willed herself and Macros to the tunnels under the
mountains across the sea.

"Message from Captain Breyer, sir." Erik rubbed his eyes and blinked.

He had managed an hour of sleep after the fighting. Since the day
before, when Greylock had departed for the East, they had been attacked
three times, the most recent being at sundown. They had easily
defeated the forces thrown at them, thanks in part to Greylock's having
left a squad of fifty additional archers behind, footmen with longbows.

Erik knew he'd have to send them on ahead at least a day's march
before he withdrew, for they could never keep up with the cavalry, but
he was very pleased with their presence. His mission was to hold at the
road until it was clear that pressure along the front was roughly
equal, then to pull out, leaving an obvious weakness in the defensive
line. Prince Patrick and Lord William's plan was for the enemy to gain
ground between Krondor and Darkmoor, but only where the Kingdom wanted
them to. Erik read the message.

"So far, so good," he commented. He
dismissed the soldier and regarded the messenger, a Hadati Hillman.

"Get something to eat and rest, then leave
at first light." The hillman nodded and left, and Erik turned over,
pulled his blanket around him, and tried to return to sleep. He lay
there for a while, thinking of Kitty and wondering if she was well. He
was almost certain she had left early enough to avoid the dangers of
the road now being faced by those out there in the darkness. Then his
thoughts turned to Roo. He wondered if he and his family were safe.

Jacob Esterbrook sat behind his desk, his face an impassive mask as Roo
urged him to order his household packed and moved.

"I understand the
dangers, young man," he said at last. He rose and moved around the
desk, pointing to a map of the Kingdom he kept on the wall nestled
between two large bookcases.

"I have been doing business with the
Empire of Great Kesh since before you were born. I have done business
with Queg. If the politics of the area are about to change, I suspect
I can do business with whoever is in charge once things settle down."

Roo's eyes opened in naked astonishment. He had ridden into the night.

reaching Esterbrook's house two hours after sunset, and had asked to
speak to the trader.

"Jacob, no disrespect to your business acumen,
but the point I'm trying to make is that an army of murderous thugs is
heading this way. I know that army. I served with them for a timet At
that Jacob raised an eyebrow in interest.

"Really?"

"Yes, and I don't
have time to tell you the details, but trust me when I say these people
have no interest in

making deals; they will come here and burn this house to the ground
after they strip it of everything worth more than a copper piece."

Jacob smiled and Roo didn't like the smile.

"You are a very talented
boy, Rupert, and I suspect you would eventually have done well enough
for yourself, even without Duke James's help. Nothing like you managed
to do with his help, but that business with the grain shortage in the
Free Cities, that was brilliant." He sat down behind the desk and
opened a drawer. Removing a parchment from within it, he placed it
upon the table.

"Of course, had you not had his help, I probably would
have ordered your death when you became a nuisance, but as things
worked out the way they did, I have no complaints." He sighed.

i "To put matters in the open, this is a commission' he pointed to
the parchment'to negotiate with the invaders and to establish
discussions with an eye toward ending hostilities." Roo said, "After
they burned Krondor?" Jacob's smile broadened.

"What concern does
Great Kesh have with the destruction of a Kingdom city?"

"Great Kesh?"

Jacob said, "Rupert, don't be thick. You must have deduced I had
something besides my not inconsiderable business skills in my favor
when it came to trading to the south. I have friends in high places in
the Emperor's court, and they have made it easy for me to keep you off
the Keshian trade routes. Now they wish to come to a quick
accommodation with the invaders, this Emerald Queen, and formalize a
new border." Roo sat stunned.

"New border?"

"Prince Erland negotiated
a treaty for noninterference with Great Kesh, in exchange for land
concessions in the Vale of Dreams." He pointed at Roo.

"Which I think
you knew, given that sale of property to me in Shamata. You didn't
realize that the new governor of Shamata would be more than happy to
recognize my claims to those businesses, I know.

"But the point of the
treaty is that while we are pledged not to invade the Kingdom, we
agreed to nothing that prevents us from coming to a quick understanding
with the new rulers of the land to the north of the Empire. Toward that
end, a rather large army is marching now, even as we speak, seeking to
occupy all lands in the Vale, not just those granted to us by the
treaty, and we shall continue to hold those lands after this
unpleasantness is over."

"You're a Keshian," said Roo softly. Jacob
spread his hands and shrugged.

"Not by birth, dear Rupert; by
profession."

"You're a spy!"

"I prefer to think of it as being a
fadhtator, one who conducts all manner of trade between the Kingdom and
Great Kesh, goods, services, and information." Roo stood.

"Well, you
can burn in hell for all I care, Jacob. But I won't let Sylvia die
here with you."

"My daughter is free to leave should she wish," said
Jacob.

"I have long since ceased attempting to control her. If she
wants to travel with you, she may." Roo left the old man in his study
without another word. He hurried up the stairs toward Sylvia's room.

Without knocking, he opened the door. Sylvia was sitting on the bed
while Duncan stood over her, one foot up on the bed beside her as he
leaned forward . He had one hand on her shoulder, in a familiar
fashion, and he was smiling his most charming smile. Sylvia appeared
angry at whatever Duncan was saying, and they were so lost in their
debate they didn't notice Roo for a moment.

"No!" said Sylvia.

"You've
got to go back and do it tonight, You fool. After he leaves the
estate, it's too late."

"What's too late?" said Roo.

Sylvia jumped to her feet as Duncan stepped away.

"Why, Cousin," said
Duncan, "I was just trying to convince miss Esterbrook that she should
evacuate." Roo studied the tableau a long moment and slowly drew his
sword.

"Now I see just how much of a fool I've been."

"Roo!" said
Sylvia.

"You can't think ... not Duncan and

II

Duncan put up his hands in a gesture of conciliation.

"Cousin? What do
you think you're doing?"

"Since this has begun, I have never understood
why I could never gain an advantage over Jacob. Now I discover that
he's an agent of Great Kesh and that my own cousin has been feeding my
lover information." Duncan looked as if he was going to say something,
then suddenly his smile turned to a snarl and he yanked his sword out.

"Damn it, I have had enough of this charade." He lashed out. Roo
parried, then riposted. Duncan easily avoided the blade. Roo said,
"That makes two of us." Duncan grinned, and it was an evil, hate-filled
expression.

"You have no idea how much I've looked forward to this
moment, Cousin. Taking your table leavings, running your errands,
while you favored that one-handed Rodezian dog. Well, this will end
that insult and I will no longer have to share Sylvia with you."

"That's the way it is, then?"

"Of course, you idiot!" screamed Sylvia.

She rolled off the bed as a flurry of sword blows came perilously close
to striking her. Duncan said, "My love, I don't need to kill the fat
cow. I'll kill Rupert here, then I'll marry Karli. When time enough
has passed, we'll get rid of her and then you can marry me." Rupert
struck out with a blow aimed at Duncan's head, and as Duncan's sword
came up to parry, Roo snapped the blade around to a side attack.

Duncan merely turned I

his wrist, bringing his blade down to catch Roo's blade.

"Nicely done,
Cousin," said Duncan.

"But you were never my equal with the blade, and
you know it. Eventually, you'll make a mistake and I'D kill you." Roo
said nothing. Hate filled his eyes at the realization of just how
badly he had been played for an idiot. He feinted left, then came
around from the right with a snapping blow that almost connected with
Duncan's left arm.

but the taller swordsman danced nimbly back.

"Karli would never marry
you, you swine. She hates you." Smiling, Duncan said, "She just
doesn't know me. She doesn't appreciate my better qualities." He
lashed out with i a full extension and almost took Roo in the
shoulder. Roo ducked slightly and beat aside his cousin's blade, then
he also tried a thrust, backing Duncan away. Sylvia stood behind the
bed, in the corner, clutching the curtains.

"Kill him, Duncan!" she
screamed.

"Don't play with him." Duncan said, "With pleasure," and
suddenly attacked with more speed than Roo would have thought possible.

Roo did his best to defend, and he found his speed matched his
cousin's, but Duncan was the more experienced swordsman. one advantage
Roo had was he had fought a duel to the death only a year before, while
Duncan hadn't faced a serious foe in years. Duncan began to improvise
his attacks, and Roo saw his advantage. If he could wear his more
skilled cousin down, tire him, he could eventually survive this duel.

Roo then set about not, as Duncan closed to kill. Back and forth they
moved, slashing and thrusting, blocking and parrying. A pair of
candles threw dancing shadows across the room as the fury of movement
caused the flames to flicker and gutter. The sound of steel on steel
brought servants to the door of Sylvia's room. A wide-eyed maid looked
in, and Sylvia screamed, "Get Samuell' Roo knew Samuel the coachman,
was a bull-necked

T~,

thug of a man, and, now that he knew Jacob worked on behalf of Great
Kesh, suspected Samuel might be one of Jacob's agents. He knew that if
Samuel got into the room, Roo would be distracted enough that Duncan
would probably kill him. Roo tried to look hesitant, and when Duncan
took the bait, overextending his attack, Roo launched a furious
counteroffensive, forcing his cousin back against the far wall. Then
Roo turned and hurried to the door, slamming it shut and throwing the
bolt before Duncan could recover.

"You'll have no help for a while,
Duncan," he said, panting from exertion.

"I don't need any," said
Duncan and began to stalk Roo across the room. Roo crouched low and
waited. Sylvia stood motionless in the corner, her face a mask of naked
hatred as she watched the two men drde slowly. Blows were exchanged,
but no injury was done. Each man had the measure of the other; they
had spent too many hours practicing with each other. While Duncan
might be the better swordsman, Roo had spent more time drilling with
him than any other; they were evenly matched. Perspiration poured down
both men's faces and drenched their shirts. In the close air of the
room on this hot summer night, they were quickly out of breath. Back
and forth to no advantage, the men fought across the room. Roo watched
Duncan closely for any sign he was changing his style or tiring.

Duncan's frustration was mounting, for while he had regularly defeated
Roo in practice, this time the little man was holding his own, and if
anything seemed to be gaining an edge. Pounding on the door signaled
the arrival of Samuel, the coachman.

"Miss!" he cried through the
door.

"I'm being attacked I' she screamed.

"Rupert Avery is trying to
kill me. His cousin Duncan is defending me. Break down the door!" A
moment later a thud signaled the assault on the door.

The coachman and probably another male servant were throwing their
shoulders into the door. Roo knew that the door was heavy oak, locked
with an iron throw bolt; he had locked it himself enough times. They
would have to find something to use as a ram; their shoulders would
give out before the heavy door did.

Then Roo saw a flicker of movement and realized Sylvia was trying to
run across the bed,-past him, so she could unlock the door. He leaped
backward and snapped a wild blow in her general direction, causing her
to shriek and fall back.

"Not so fast, my love," he said.

"You and I
have accounts to settle." Duncan let out a sound of pure frustration as
he lunged and drove Roo back to the side of the bed opposite Sylvia. He
glanced at the door as if gauging his chances of opening it. When his
gaze flicked to the door, so did Roo's blade, and a crimson stain
spread on Duncan's white silk shirt, as he took a nick in the right
shoulder. Roo smiled. He knew that while it was a tiny wound, the blow
to Duncan's vanity was immense. Roo had scored first blood, and Duncan
would become even more dangerous and reckless. Duncan swore and started
to attack Roo as fast as he could, ignoring the door. He pushed Roo
back to the corner, then lunged at him with a move designed to skewer
the shorter man. Roo had anticipated the move, knowing that Duncan
would follow his usual style and come at him angling toward Roo's
right. The practice over the years had revealed Roo's tendency to move
toward his own right when dodging. Roo knew Duncan knew this, and as
it was the only likely move he could make, Roo did the unexpected. He
leaped atop the bed on his left, bouncing off it as if he were an
acrobat. He heard rather than saw Duncan's blade strike the wall. He
leaped off to stand next to Sylvia, and he turned to see Duncan pull
back his own blade and leap atop the bed.

Sylvia shrieked as she pulled a dagger from behind her pillow and
struck at Roo. Roo's attention was fixed upon Duncan, but he saw
movement in the corner of his eye and dodged forward slightly. Pain
exploded in his shoulder as the blow, intended for his neck, missed,
and the dagger point slid down his right shoulder blade, skidding off
bone. Duncan drew back his blade again, to skewer Roo as he had
intended to do the last time. Roo fell back without conscious intent,
and he struck Sylvia, who stumbled into the path of Duncan's lunge.

Both men froze a moment as Duncan's sword point drove deep into Sylvia
Esterbrook's side. The beautiful young woman, her face contorted with
hate and rage, suddenly went stiff and her eyes grew round with
astonishment.

She looked down as if unable to comprehend what had just happened, and
then she went limp. Duncan's blade was pulled forward briefly, and as
he attempted to wrench it from Sylvia's dying body, Roo lunged. His
aim was off and his arm weak from his injury, but Duncan was
overbalanced and exposed, and the point of Roo's sword took him
straight in the throat. Duncan's eyes suddenly widened, his
astonishment a match for Sylvia's. He stumbled backward and fell upon
the bed, his head resting on one of his lover's pillows as his hands
went to his throat. Blood flowed from his neck, mouth, and nose and he
gurgled as he sought to stem the flow with his hands. Roo stood there,
bleeding, in pain, and out of breath as he watched his cousin lying on
Sylvia's bed, his blood staining the satin sheets and pillows. After a
moment, Duncan's hands went limp, falling from his throat, and his head
rolled around to the left, as if he was staring at Roo and Sylvia, and
the life fled from his eyes. Roo looked down at Sylvia, who lay at his
feet, staring up with eyes as vacant as Duncan's. The pounding on
the

39I

door took on a steady, hard sound, and Roo knew they were using a table
base or some other heavy object as a ram. He stumbled over to the door
and shouted "Stand back." He unlatched the heavy iron latch and found
three male
servants, Samuel, a stable hand whose name Roo couldn't recall, and the
cook, all standing there with weapons. The cook held a kitchen
cleaver, but the other two men carried swords. Roo glared at the three
and said, "Stand aside or die." Looking at the blood-spattered carnage
behind the little man with the sword in his hand, the three servants
moved back. Roo stepped into the hall Behind the three men waited the
other servants, maids, cooks, gardeners, and the rest. Roo said,
"Sylvia is dead." One of the maids gasped, while another smiled in
obvious satisfaction. Roo said, "There's an army heading this way. It
will be here sometime tomorrow. Grab what you can and run east. If
you don't, by this time tomorrow night you'll be raped and dead or
slaves. Now stand aside!" No one hesitated. All turned and fled down
the stairway. Roo staggered down the stairs, and when he reached the
bottom he saw servants were busy stripping the house of easily
transportable items. He thought of returning to Jacob's study and
killing the traitor, but he was too tired. It would take all his
strength to return home. His wound wasn't critical, but it could be
serious if it wasn't tended. Staggering outside, he found his horse
where he had left it tied. He put his sword in its sheath, and by
force of win he climbed into the saddle. Pointing the horse toward the
gate, he put heels to sides, and the animal cantered off, heading
home.

Luis dressed Roo's shoulder while Karli fussed about, holding a basin
of water.

"It's not bad," said Luis.

"The bone's laid bare, but it's
all over the shoulder blade." He was sewing up the wound with a piece
of silk thread and a needle from Karli's sewing kit.

"Very messy, but
nothing permanent." As Roo flinched, he said, "Must hurt like hell,
though." Roo, pale from blood loss and pain, said, "It does."

"Well, if
an artery had been cut you'd be dead by now, so count yourself
fortunate." He pulled tight the last stitch and motioned for a cloth,
cleaning off the wound.

"We'll change the dressing twice a day and
keep the wound clean. If it festers, you'll be very sick." Both men had
been trained in dressing wounds, so Roo knew he was in good hands.

Helen Jacoby said, "I'm sorry about Duncan." Roo had told them Duncan
and he had been jumped by bandits, fleeing before the invading army.

He looked at Karli and decided he'd tell her the truth when everything
was over, when his family was safe and he could ask her forgiveness.

He might never love his wife, but now he knew that what he had with her
was a great deal more solid than the illusion of love he had felt for
Sylvia. All the way home, his wound pulsing with every heartbeat, he
had cursed himself for a fool. How could he think she loved him? He
had never been loved in his life, save perhaps by Erik and the other
men who had served with him across the sea, and that was the love of
comrades. He had never known the love of women, just their embrace.

Twice he had found tears running down his face as he thought of the
number of times he had dreamed of that murderous bitch being the mother
of his children, and his anger at himself mounted. And his trust of
Duncan ... How could he have been so blind? He had let the fact of
blood ties and easy charm mislead him about the man's true nature: he
was lazy,

self-serving, and conniving. He was a true Avery, Roo decided. D~g the
mug of water Helen gave him, Roo said, "Luis, if anything happens to
me, I want you to run Avery and Son for Karli." Karli's eyes grew round
and tears began to form.

"No." She knelt before her husband and said,
"Nothing's going to happen to you." She seemed almost desperate at
the
thought of losing Roo. Roo smiled.

"Something almost did, tonight. I
don't plan on leaving this world any time soon, but I've seen enough of
war to know that a man's not consulted about his time of death." He set
down his mug and gripped her hands.

"I'm ~ about "in case," nothing
more."

"I understand." Then he looked at Helen and said, "I would like
it if you'd stay with us for a while. After this is over, I mean.

We're all going to have to rebuild, and we're going to need as many
friends around to help as we can find." She smiled and said, "Of
course. You've been most generous to me and the children. They look
upon you as they would a father, and I can't thank you enough for the
care you've taken in conducting my business." Roo stood.

"I'm afraid
both our companies are going to be the worse for wear when this war is
over." Helen nodded, and said, "We'll survive. Then we'll rebuild."

Roo smiled and looked at his wife, who still looked afraid.

"You two
get some sleep. We leave in a few hours. Luis and I have a lot to
discuss before then."

"Your wound," said Karli.

"You need to rest."

"I'll rest in the coach, I promise. I won't ride for a day or two."

"Very well," she said, motioning for Helen to accompany her upstairs.

Both women had awakened when Roo returned, and

"I:

were wearing their long night shifts. As they climbed the stairs,
Luis's eyes followed Helen until they vanished from sight.

"She's
quite a woman," said Roo's old companion. Roo had admired the way the
thin fabric of her nightdress had hugged the curve of her hip as she
mounted the stairs, and said, "I have always thought so." Luis said,
"So what really happened?" Roo looked at Luis.

"What do you mean?"

"I
know a dagger wound when I see one. I've given enough of them, and you
were struck from the side and rear. Had that been a bandit who knew
what he was doing, you'd have been dead." He sat down on a chair
opposite Roo's.

"And bandits don't jump armed men with nothing worth
stealing."

"I went to the Esterbrooks' estate." Luis nodded.

"You
found Duncan with Sylvia."

"You knew?" The older fighter nodded.

"Of
course I knew. I'd have to be a blind idiot not to."

"I guess that
makes me a blind idiot."

"Most men are when they think with that," he
said, pointing to Roo's crotch.

"Duncan's been bedding the wench for
more than a year."

"You said nothing. Why?" Luis sighed.

"The reason
I left the court of Rodez in shame was over a woman. I was made a fool
of by a noble's wife. I wounded him in a fight. By the time I reached
Krondor and was captured, he had died and I was to be hanged for
murder. That's when I met you in the cell." He nodded in memory.

"I
know what it is to think you're in love, to be blinded by beauty and
made stupid by the soft touch and warm scent. I know the lady who
ruined me was a calculating bitch who had no more use for me after I
left her bed than she had for the servant who cleaned her shoes, but
even now the thought of her in the warm, candlelight can arouse my
hunger." He closed his eyes m
memory.

"I can't say that if she appeared outside now, inviting me
once again to share her bed, I could be wise enough to say no.

"Some
men never learn, and some learn before it's too
late. Which are you?" Roo said, "I never want to be that big an idiot
again."

"Yet you gaze upon Helen Jacoby and wonder what it would be
like to rest in those lovely arms, to rest your head upon that ample
bosom, to feel her legs wrap around you." Roo looked at Luis and his
gaze narrowed.

"What are you saying?" Luis shrugged.

"Part of it is
what any healthy man would wonder, for Helen is a beautiful woman, who
has a warm and generous nature I have thoughts about all such women,
though I keep such thoughts to myself; all men do but another part of
it is Rupert Avery looking for something he doesn't have."

"What is
that?"

"I don't know, my friend," said Luis, standing.

"But you won't
find it in the arms of another woman, any more than you found it in the
arms of your wife or Sylvia Esterbrook." He reached over and touched
Roo on the head.

"You'll find it here." Then he touched him on the
chest.

"And here." Roo sighed.

"Maybe you're right."

"I know I'm
right," said Luis.

"Besides, Helen is as dangerOus in her own way as
Sylvia was."

"Why?" asked Roo.

"Sylvia betrayed me and was using
Duncan to try to kill Karli and marry me, then kill me to get my
fortune." He looked hard at Luis.

"You can't think Helen is like
that."

"No," said Luis, with a sigh.

"She's dangerous in a different
way. She really loves you." Turning toward the door, he said, "When
this is over, you would do well to send her away. See to her care if
you must, but let her go, Roo.

"Now I must go see to the wagons. You rest. You need it." Roo sat
alone in the chair and felt all strength drain from him. It was all he
could do to rise and move to a divan a few feet away and lie upon it,
face down so as not to put pressure on his shoulder. Helen in love
with him? It couldn't he possible. Like him, yes. Be grateful for
his care of her and the children, yes. But love him? it couldn't be.

Then Roo felt all the anger, pain, and loneliness of his life rush to
the surface. He had never felt so stupid, inept, and W-used. Two
people he thought loved him had plotted to kill him and were dead. Now
Luis was telling him that the woman he admired the most in the world
was in love with him, and he must send her away. Tears came unbidden
as he lay there, feeling sorry for himself, and anger at his own
shortcomings. Sleep came quickly as exhaustion overtook self-pity, and
it seemed only brief moments of rest were his before Luis was waking
him, telling him it was time to leave his home. Roo rose on shaky legs
and let Luis give him a hand to where the wagons were lined up. Roo
blinked and realized Karli, Helen, and the children were all in his
coach, ready to go.

"I let you sleep to the last minute," said Luis,
indicating that Roo should enter the coach. Roo glanced to the west and
saw the sun rising.

"We should have been gone an hour ago," he said.

Luis shrugged.

"We had much to do and little time to do it. An extra
hour will not see us safe." He pointed to the west. In the grey light
of dawn, Roo saw towers of smoke in the distance. Burning homes. To
the northwest faint glimmers of fire could be seen.

"They're close,"
he said.

"Yes," said Luis.

"Let us go." Roo entered the carriage and
crowded in beside Karli. Helmut, his son, sat on his mother's other
side, while Helen was flanked by her two children. Abigail sat on the
floor
of the carriage, between Karli's feet, playing with a doll and singing
a little song. Roo let his head loll on his wife's shoulder, closing
his eyes. The ride was bumpy and probably would not let him sleep, but
he would rest his eyes awhile. As sleep returned to Roo, he wondered
how Jacob Esterbrook would do in
his negotiations with the invaders.

Jacob Esterbrook sat quietly behind his desk. He knew the first
moments of his confrontation with these new invaders would be critical.

If he showed fear or panic, any hint of uncertainty or hostility, they
would react badly. But if he was calm and merely asked to speak to
someone in authority, someone who could relay his message from key
figures in the Keshian court to this Emerald Queen, he was certain his
position would be protected. He had experienced some surprising
distress on discovering his daughter was dead. He had never liked the
girl much, but she had proved useful, as had her mother before her.

Jacob wondered why some men felt so much concern over matters of
children, who remained a mystery to him. The sound of horses outside
announced the arrival of the raiders, and Jacob composed himself. He
had thought of what he would say. Footfalls echoed in the hall
outside, and the door was thrown open. two oddly dressed men entered,
one with a sword andshielvcdd,. the other with a bow. Both had their
hair heavily greased, with long braids that hung in a semicircle below
their heads, and both wore scars on their cheeks, ritual in nature,
Jacob decided, rather than from combat. Jacob held up both hands to
show he was unarmed, the scroll of credentials held in his left hand.

His intelligence about the far continent had told him the denizens of
that far land spoke a variant of the Keshian tongue, one used

years ago in the Bitter Sea, related to the dialects of Queg and Yabon.

"Greetings," said Jacob slowly.

"I wish to speak to someone in
authority. I have a message from the Emperor of Great Kesh." The two
warriors looked at one another. The bowman asked a question of the
other, in a language unlike anything Jacob had ever heard before, and
the one with the shield nodded to the bowman. The archer raised his
weapon and snapped off an arrow, which pinned Jacob to the back of his
chair. As the light fled from Jacob's eyes, he saw the two men pull
knives and approach him. Later that morning a captain of one of the
many mercenary companies serving the Emerald Queen rode up with a squad
of twenty men. They fanned out, ten circling the estate, while eight
dismounted and hurried inside, the remaining two holding the horses.

Every man in the company was starving and anything besides food was
going to be ignored for a while. A few moments later one of the
fighters came out of the house with a disgusted expression on his face.

"What is it?" asked the captain.

"Those damn Jikanji cannibals.

They're in there eating someone." The captain shook his head.

"Right
now I'm half-tempted to join them." He glanced around.

"Where's
Kanhruk? He speaks their gibberish. We need to tell them to get down
the road and find some food besides long pig." The men returned and one
said, "There's some livestock in back: chickens, a dog, and some
horses." Another rider came up and said, "There's cattle in the field,
Captain." With a laugh, the captain dismounted.

"Take the horses for
remounts. And let's slaughter those chickens. Get a fire going-' Men
ran to do as they were bidden. The captain knew
the beef would have to go to the Queen's quartermaster, but he and his
men were going to have some chicken first. At the thought of hot
chicken his stomach cramped. He had never been so hungry in his life.

As men started killing chickens, the captain shouted, "And slaughter
that dog!"

He felt relief they had found food. How a land that looked so lush
could be so devoid of anything to eat was a mystery. They had found
gold and gems, fine cloth and items of rare beauty, everything that was
usually hidden, and no food. Throughout his life as a soldier, those
who ran took their gold and jewelry, valuables of every stripe, with
them, but they didn't carry off grain, flour, vegetables, and fowl.

Even game animals were scarce, as if they had been driven away. It was
as if the enemy were retreating and taking everything they could eat
with them. It made no sense. The mercenary captain sat down as a man
emerged from the house holding bottles of wine. He greedily drank down
the wine and absently wondered how long he could have resisted joining
the Jikanji at their feast. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand,
he realized he was free not to worry about that pass for a few more
days. In the distance he heard the barking dog fall silent with a
single whimper, and the squawk of chickens as their necks were wrung.

EIGHTEEN

Delay

A loud rumble came through the floor. Lysle said, "Are you planning to
blow up the entire city, Jimmy?" James looked at the others in the
gloom of the warehouse and quietly said, "Probably." He looked at his
brother in the dim light of a single lantern. For two days his
soldiers had been n~g forays into the sewers, gathering information,
marking the progress of the fighting above, and coordinating the
defense of the city. One of the things James had known was that the
demon's magic would probably result in a quick entrance into Krondor.

Rather than have everything committed to the walls and nothing inside,
therefore, he had sacrificed the lives of hundreds of soldiers so that
the enemy would think the city heavily defended, only to discover that
once inside Krondor the battle had only just begun. Between
coordinating the defense from his underground command post and eating
and sleeping only briefly, he had gotten the opportunity to know his
brother. He found a sadness in realising that as he neared seventy
years of age, he had only spent hours with his brother. He knew that
Lysle was a murderer, career thief, smuggler, and panderer, and guilty
of as many crimes as a dung heap had flies, but in Lysle he saw
himself, had he not chanced to encounter Prince Arutha so many years
before. He had told Lysle about that meeting, catching sight of the
Prince in the street as he sought to avoid being caught by Jocko

Radburn's secret police, and how later he had saved Arutha's life from
an assassin on the rooftops. That act had led to Jimmy the Hand, boy
thief, becoming Squire James, and here, nearly fifty years later,
James, Duke of Krondor. James sighed.

"I could have used you many
times over the years, had I known I could trust you." Lysle laughed.

"Jimmy, in the short time I've known you what? three visits in forty
years? - I've come to love you like the brother that you are, but
trust? You're joking." James laughed.

"I suppose. Given the chance,
you'd have had me hung for treason and you'd be Duke of Krondor."

"Probably not. I never dreamed of ambition like that." The two men
heard another dull thump, and one of the guardsmen said, "That must be
the abandoned warehouse in the mill district, down by the river. We
stocked two
hundred barrels in there." Since before the siege, James's men had been
moving through the city, leaving barrels of Quegan fire oil in
strategic locations.

"You should have seen the. defense of Armengar,"
James told the guard.

"That city was a defender's delight and an
attacker's nightmare." He made a wavy motion with his hand, like a
snake moving through grass.

"No street longer than a bowshot without a
curve in it. Each building with no windows at street level, heavy oak
doors that could be bolted only from inside, and every rooftop flat."

The soldiers smiled and nodded, as one said, "Archery platforms." James
said, "Absolutely, so the defenders could move from rooftop to rooftop
via long planks they pulled along after them, while those below were
exposed to arrow fire every step of the way. When Murmandamus and his
troops were in the city, Guy du Bas-Tyra fired twenty-five thousand
barrels of naphtha' Twenty-five thousand!" said Lysle.

"You're
joking."

"No, and when she blew..." He sat back against the
wall.

"I can't describe it. Just imagine a tower of fire that reached
the heavens, and you'll have some idea. The noise. I was nearly deaf
from it. My ears rang for a week." A knock sounded on the door and men
drew weapons. It was repeated in the expected pattern, and the single
lamp was shuttered while a patrol was admitted. A half-dozen soldiers
were quickly inside, followed by three civilians.

"Found them
wandering around down here," said the leader of the patrol. Rigger
looked them over and said, "They're mine."

"And who are you?" asked one
of the three men. James laughed.

"Anonymity has its drawbacks." To the
three thieves he said, "He's your boss. This is the Upright Man." The
three looked at one another and one of them said, "And you're the Duke
of Krondor, no doubt." Everyone in the room laughed, except the three
men. A young woman, one of Lysie's thieves, came and explained how
things were. When it was clear she wasn't joking, and when one of the
heavily armed soldiers also said it was true, the three men fell quiet.

The Duke and the leader of the Thieves' Guild might be sitting in a
basement connected to the sewer, but they were still the two most
powerful men in the city. At regular intervals, scouting parties went
out and returned, bringing news of the fighting in the streets above.

The defenders were making the invaders pay for every street and house,
but the outcome was a foregone conclusion. After having been cooped up
for days, Lysle said, "If the battle's lost, why not order your lads
out of the city?"

"No way to get the orders to them, sorry to say,"
said James, and his expression was one of genuine regret.

"And for our
plan to work, the invaders must think we've spent our entire army
here."

"Gad, you're a bloody one," said Lysle.

"I don't know if I could order
that many lads to their death."

"Of course you could," said James
matter-of-factly.

"If your job was to preserve the Kingdom, you'd
trade a city, even the Prince's."

"What's the Plan, then?" James said,
"I've got a few thousand barrels of Quegan fire oil down here, and
they're rigged to pour into the sewers. Sooner or later those bastards
above us are going to figure out some of the populace is hiding down in
the
sewers, and when they do, I've got a surprise for them."

"A few
thousand?" Rigger whistled in appreciation.

"That's nasty stuff. The
fire will burn right on top of the water."

"More," said James. He
pointed to a chain, relatively new from the look of it, that hung near
one wall. A soldier had been stationed to guard it at all times.

"I'd
been wondering about that."

"It's something I picked up from old Guy du
Bas-Tyra when we fled Armengar. Pull that chain and you'll release a
light spray of naphtha into the tunnels. There's a series of small,
closed-off drains, pipes, and culverts' "I know those. The old
city's first sewers. They were closed off when the deeper sewers were
built a hundred years ago."

"Well, they're reopened." He sat back
against the wall.

"There are advantages to having every plan ever made
for every building and public improvement in the city. When those
culverts are filled with naphtha gas, they'll bleed the fumes into the
larger sewer tunnels. There they'll combine with the existing sewer
gas, the Quegan oil floating on the surface of the muck, and whatever
barrels of oil we can Cut loose up here, and the fires hit them, the
entire city is going to blow."

"Blow?"

"Explode," said James.

"There
won't be two stones in

Krondor resting one atop the other when the dust settles."

"Damn me,"
said Rigger. James said, "This is the only home I've known, sewers or
palace, thieves or nobles. Krondor is where I was born."

"Well, if
you're planning on dying here, would you allow me the opportunity to
get a little distance away before you pull that chain?" James laughed.

"Certainly. Once we pull that chain we've got about an hour, unless
there's already a fire at this end of the sewers." He shrugged.

"I
don't know how much time we'll have then." He pointed to a door in the
easternmost wall of the basement.

"There's a tunnel there that leads
out to a building in the foul burg As I said, this was Trevor Hull's
and the Mockers' best route for smuggling into and out of Krondor."

"So
you'll send everyone ahead, and pull the chain, then run like hell?"

James grinned.

"Something like that." Rigger sat back next to his
brother.

"Well, I don't fancy climbing into the daylight surrounded by
an invading army, but I'll take my chances that way rather than sit
here and fry." A noise from above caused them all to look up at the
ceiling, the floor of the basement of the old mill. The subbasement
entrance was hidden, but guards moved quietly to their side of the
trap, weapons drawn and ready.

"Sounds like they've reached this end of
the city," said James softly.

"Or someone is trying to find a place to
hide," whispered: Lysle.

"Maybe some more of my people." James
signaled one of his guards, who nodded. The man quietly put down his
sword and shield and climbed up the short flight of stairs leading to
the trap in the floor above . He pushed open the door slightly,
allowing him to peek through the door, and stepped back, obviously
surprised.

"M'lady," he said.

James's head snapped around as he saw his wife descending the stairs to
the sub-basement.

"What are you doing here." he shouted. Gamina held
up her hand.

"Don't use that tone on me, Jimmy." James's rage was
barely held in check.

"You were supposed to be in Darkmoor by now,
with Arutha and the boys. How in heaven's name did you get here?"

She was muddy, with dirt on her face. Her hair was disheveled and
covered with soot. She said, "You forgot Pug gave you one of those
Tsurani transport spheres. I didn't."

"How did you know where to find
me?" he said, his tone still seething anger. Touching her husband's
cheek, she said, "You foolish old man, did you think I couldn't hear
your thoughts a world away?" his anger fled.

"Why did you come? You
know there's a chance we won't get out of here alive." Her eyes grew
moist with emotion and she said, "I know. But do you think that after
all these years together I could live without you?" James gathered her
into his arms and held her close.

"You must go back."

"No, I won't,"
she said firmly.

"I can't. The device is out of power. The best I
could manage was to get to the market near the wall, and then I tossed
it somewhere back in the mud. I had to make my way here on foot." She
moved close to him and held him, whispering in hisear, "If you can't
live without this daum city, you must know I can't live without you."

He held her in silence. After nearly fifty years of marriage he knew
he could not win an argument with her. It had been his intent to be
the last to leave the city, and if fate decided(f he would die with
Krondor, he thought it might be for the best; since constructing the
plan for the defeat
of the enemy he had constantly wrestled with the terrible price paid by
the citizens of the Prince's Capital. There could be no early warning
for them, no orderly evacuation, for if the enemy had thought the city
without plunder and food, they would have bypassed it. More, the enemy
must think the bulk of the Kingdom Army destroyed in Krondor. James
could hardly bear the idea of leaving so many people, so much of what
had been his life, to die while he lived on. Perhaps it was fear of
the ghosts of those who had paid the ultimate price so that James could
buy time for the Kingdom; he didn't know. All he knew was that at some
point in the planning for the defense of the Kingdom, James had decided
that when it came for his city to die, for Prince Arutha's city to die,
he would most likely die with it. But now he had to leave, for he knew
Gamina would not leave without him. Lysle said, "This is your wife?"

James nodded, holding Gamina's hand.

"This is the only woman I've
loved, Lysle." He smiled at her. Her head came around and her eyes
widened.

"Your brother?" He nodded. She turned to Lysle and said,
"I've heard of you, but had no image of you." Glancing back and forth,
she said, "It's obvious." Motioning for his wife to sit down, James
said, "Let me tell you of the time I first met this fellow, when people
kept trying to pick fights with me up in Tannerus because they thought
I was with him." Lysle laughed and said, "It's a good story." James
began, starting by explaining the odd mission Prince Arutha had sent
him on, with his old friend Locklear, a young son of a local noble who
happened to be an apprentice magician from Stardock, and a renegade
moredhel chieftain. Gamina knew the story as well as James did, having
heard it a dozen times, but she sat back, next to her husband, leaning
her head on his shoulder,

and let him tell it. The soldiers and thieves hiding in the gloom
would be diverted from the terrible future that bore down upon them,
and for a while they'd hear of better days, when the heroes were
victorious and the forces of evil vanquished. Besides, she thought, as
Lysle had said, it was a good story.

Calis watched. There was something within the life stone

He had noticed it within minutes of Pug shifting the Lifestone in time
so that all could see it. He could sense energy inside, and as he
watched for hours on end, after a while he believed he could see it.

The Oracle's companions, when they were breaking from their mystical
lessons, would approach and some would stand watch with him for a time.

They shared their food with him, though he couldn't really recall much
of what they ate. He was preoccupied with the gem. Calis relaxed and
let his mind wander, and from time to time, flashes of images came to
him. He saw people, beings looking much like his father, and he saw
things: occurrences in places impossible distances away, creatures and
beings from some other time. And he saw hints of forces moving behind
those images, and those were the most compelling. Hours stretched into
days, and Calis lost track of time as he went deeper and deeper into
the mystery of the life stone

Erik shouted orders and his men began their orderly withdrawal. The
enemy was less than a half-mile down the road, in strength, and word
had come from Greylock that the next fallback position had been
secured. Erik had decided the best way to gain back some of the time
lost in the fall of Krondor was to do it a day at a time, rather than
try to hold at the first defense for the extra three weeks. The
original battle plan had called for them
to hold the first defensive position for seven days; Erik had held it
for nine. There were seven more defenses until they reached the
mountains at the pass to Darkmoor, and if he could add three or four
days at each defense, they would have gained back much of the time they
had lost. But Erik wasn't optimistic about realizing that goal; the
plan for the defense of the West had the north most and south most
defensive positions being unyielding" while Erik's center was the
softest' defense, withdrawing to lure the enemy along. The northern and
southern flanks would funnel the enemy into the center, putting the
bulk of the Emerald Queen's army on the King's Highway and within five
miles of either side. The problem with that plan was that as the days
wore on, more and more enemy soldiers would be thrown at Erik's
position. More than once in the first week of fighting, Erik wished
that Calis hadn't been called off to whatever crisis needed his
presence, and that Greylock had been in charge of the center. Erik
would rather have had his original mission, holding the northern flank.

Fighting from behind a strong defensible position was far easier than
this delaying action. Now his forward observers had seen battle flags
going up, as the enemy prepared for a major offensive against his
position. He had planned on being at least another mile down the road
when the enemy got here. Erik used hand signals to order his men out
of the area, while instructing the archers to fall back. Originally
they were to harry the enemy along the line of march, but reports
indicated there were too many gathering to risk exposing the bowmen.

He'd improvise and find another location along the way to set them up,
so that they could slow the enemy's advance, yet have a fair chance of
getting away. The difficulty was that during the first phase of the
withdrawal, if the enemy attacked, they'd have little time to prepare
themselves. If they could steal a march on the
enemy, get far enough ahead, then they could quickly dig in and defend
if they were overtaken, but if they were hit while they were in the
process of withdrawing, the superior numbers of the enemy would prove
devastating for Erik's command. He had to get his men moving, down the
road, and into the next prepared defensive position, where Greylock and
his command were waiting. The two units would defend that position
until the enemy pulled back, at which point Greylock's men would move
out, falling back to the next
position after that. That would be the pattern for the next three
months, or until they reached Darkmoor. As the enemy withdrew from the
extreme north and south flanks, those units were scheduled to move down
the fine, adding fresh soldiers to the center, but that phase of the
operation wasn't scheduled until next month, and if the enemy didn't
withdraw from the flanks, the support wouldn't materialize. When the
men were under way, Erik lingered at the rear, with his last line of
skirmishers, who would hang back until the enemy was in sight. He
looked to the west, to the late-afternoon sky, and saw the smoke
rising. Krondor was burning, and Erik wondered how William, James, and
the others there were doing. He said a silent prayer to Ruthia, the
Lady of Luck, that if the chance presented itself, those people might
somehow get out. Then he turned his horse and galloped off to overtake
the front of the command. He knew he had roughly three hours to get to
the next position, and another hour to dig in before night fell. He
had no idea if the enemy would march until nightfall, then attack, or
wait until dawn, but either way Erik intended to be ready.

Even in the bowels of the sub-basement, the sounds of battle filtered
down. The guards had been running to the various outposts in the
sewers, and James had a rough

idea of the enemy's deployment in the city. The fires raged through
the center third of Krondor, and fighting in the eastern segment was
light and sporadic. The bulk of the enemy waited behind the flaming
wall as the fires burned but. The one scout who had braved a look said
thousands of armed men waited amid the burned-out cinders that were the
westernmost third of the city. The palace was a mound of charred
stone, still smoking, and James knew that his brother-in-law was dead.

Gamina had confirmed that she could not reach William with her mind
speech. While it was limited in distance, normally, with her family
the question of range was less restrictive. She had found her husband
from miles away. James held his wife as they sat upon the stone floor
of the damp and dark room. Those inside had fallen into long silences,
as the sense of approaching doom grew. The escape plan required a lot
of luck, and everyone was feeling short of luck at the moment. James
gave instructions to the scout who had found a way to the west, and the
man hurried off to do as he was bid. Gamina dozed against her
husband's shoulder while he waited, and at about what he judged was
sundown, the scout returned. Something in his manner alerted everyone
in the room, and all listened attentively as he said, "M'lord."

"Report," instructed James.

"Ships are attacking the invaders." Gamina
closed her eyes and said, "Nicholas isn't there." James said, "Then
it's Lord Vykor's fleet from Shandon Bay." He patted his wife's
shoulder, and stood up slowly.

"I'm too old to be sitting on these
cold floors." He helped Gamina to her feet and said, "It's time."

"What
do we do?" asked Lysle.

"Try to stay alive," he said, looking at his
wife. He said, "Lord Vykor had a fleet in hiding down in Shandon
Bay,

and he was to link up with whatever was left of Nicholas's fleet after
it came through the Straits, and follow the invaders. Once the
invaders fleet was at anchor, they were to hit them as hard as
possible, firing as many enemy ships as they could, while we set the
city to the torch.

"As you can see, things didn't work out quite the
way we planned. But if the bulk of their army, the key corps, are in
the western third of the city waiting for the fires to
subside, we can let loose the naphtha in the old sewers. That will blow
the entire city under them, and with their ships afire, they've got no
choice but to burn."

"You say that with a certain amount of glee," said
Lysle.

"It's my city," said James through clenched teeth.

"So, what
first?"

"Watch my men and stay out of the way," said James as he
signaled to his soldiers. With silent efficiency, six of them moved to
a large pair of wooden doors and opened them, while two opened the
outer doors. As these outer doors to the sewer swung wide, the six men
on the other side were rolling barrels out of a huge storage area.

Another two were attempting to work an ancient, rusted iron lever.

"Make your lads useful and have them put some weight on that," said
James, pointing to the stubborn lever. Lysle waved a hand, and four of
his thieves hurried over and added their muscle to the effort. The
lever began to move and they could hear the sound of running water.

James said, "There's an ancient cistern behind that wall, and that
lever will drain it, setting off a very quick flow out to the harbor."

Lysle watched in fascination as the six black-clad soldiers began
rolling barrels of naphtha down the ramp leading into the water. The
current of the stream was noticeably faster. as the barrels were
floating away from them at a good pace. One of the rolling barrels
struck the side of the door and

I4I2I2 RAY MONDE FEIST

cracked. The smell of Quegan oil filled the air.

"A little on the
surface is a good thing," said James with a grim smile.

"If you say
so," said Lysle.

"Now tell me again about the getting-away Part of
this plan of yours."

"As soon as the barrels are all moving toward the
docks," he said.

"We have an hour or so. Let's just hope the fleet's
taking care of their part of things."

Lord Karole Vykor, Admiral of the King's Fleet in the East, shouted,
"Fire." Another dozen catapults from the nearest ships lofted their
flaming cargo high into the air, to come crashing down on the ships in
the harbor.

"Mr. Devorak," said the Admiral. sir?"

"Wasn't it
cooperative of the bastards to tie an their ships together in a
gigantic mass for us?"

"Sir, it was that."

The old Admiral was from Roldem stock, born in Rillanon, and had never
set foot in the West until he had sailed his fleet through the Straits
of Darkness in late spring. He had lost two ships in the passage, an
acceptable toll for the early run, and he had been fortunate to have
encountered only one foreign warship on the way to Shandon Bay, a
Keshian cutter that had been overtaken and sunk before it could carry
word to anyone that the bulk of the King's Eastern Fleet was now in the
Bitter Sea. Word of Admiral Nicholas's death had been tragic news for
Vykor, for while he had met the man only twice on social occasions in
the Capital, his reputation and deeds were well known. Vykor did feel
fortunate that at least once in his life he was able to go at the enemy
under sail, with engines of war blazing, his men ready to fight
hand-to-hand if need be. For most of his career he had been chasing
ragged pirates, showing the colors to factious neighbors in the Eastern
Kingdoms, or attending state
functions at the King's palace. Now he was doing what he had trained
for all his life, and if what he had been told when he left Rillanon
months before was to be believed, the fate of the Kingdom depended on
this battle.

"Orders to the fleet, Mir Devorak."

"Sir?" asked the
captain.

"Press the attack, and no enemy ship is to be let free."

"Aye, aye, sir."

"By sundown I don't want an alien ship afloat from
here to Ylith. This is Nicholas's ocean, by dam, and I won't have them
sailing on it." Elements of the Bitter Sea and Sunset Islands fleets
moved away, heading north, to find those ships beached between the city
and Sarth, while other ships moved farther north. The ships that had
been beached between Land's End and Krondor had all been fired upon
while Vykor's fleet passed, and to the last each had been burned to the
waterline or sunk. The Admiral's delight mounted as he saw his plan was
working. He had ordered all fire to be trained upon the first row of
ships, turning them into an inferno in minutes, before they could cast
off from the ships farther in. Now the flames were moving inward,
toward the city, as ship after ship caught fire. The missiles raining
down on the mass of ships were adding to the destruction. Vykor said,
"Keep a sharp eye out for anyone attempting to get free." Captain
Devorak said, "Aye, aye, sir." Lord Vykor watched as the Royal Dragon,
under Captain Reeves's command, led a flotilla to the north, to sink
any ships they could find.

"Signal to Royal Dragon," said the Admiral,
'good hunting."

"Aye, sir," said the captain, relaying the order to the
signalman. Vykor knew that Nicholas had been buried at sea, on the way
to the Sunsets, where the squadron had picked

up fresh stores, repaired damage, and sailed back in record time. But
the Admiral felt what any old sailor would feel, that Nicholas still
somehow walked the quarterdeck -of that ship. He saluted the ship and
the memory of one of the two finest sailors he had ever known, teacher
and student, Amos Trask and Nicholas con doing Returning his attention
to the matter at hand, he saw a small ship cut itself loose near the
docks and make way toward them.

"That ship, Captain Devorak. Please
sink it, sir." Aye, aye, Admiral." As they bore down on the enemy
ship, Admiral Karole Vykor watched the Prince's city, capital of the
Western Realm, burn. A profound sadness passed over him as he saw
greatness destroyed, then he put aside his feelings until later, for
there was still a battle to be won.

James pulled the chain. A rumbling from above told him the mechanism
was working.

"The naphtha will filter down through the drains and
culverts, and will sprinkle through the sewers. If we're lucky, we
have about an hour to get out of here." Lysle said, "Then let's go."

Soldiers moved quickly up the stairs to the upper basement . One moved
to another short flight of stairs and hurried up that, peeking through
the trap. The soldier signaled the way was clear and they hurried out
into the evening. The evening was darker than it should have been, for
the air was heavy with black smoke. Men coughed, and the soldiers took
out cloths, which they tied over noses and mouths. The thieves tore
rags off their shirts and did likewise, one of them handing a rag to
Gamina. They heard fighting all around, but no combatants were in
sight. James's scouts hurried ahead, peering around the corner. He
waved them back and everyone who could ducked out of sight, others fell
face down on the street, hugging the walls as closely as possible, in
the hope they'd be lost in the smoky gloom of evening. Riders sped by,
tattered, bleeding, scared soldiers of the Kingdom, obviously in full
rout. James whispered to those nearby, "We have to find another way.

Whoever's chasing them will be here in a moment." As they retreated
down the entrance to their below ground hideout, James's words proved
prophetic: a thundering squad of Saaur riders came pounding hard after.

It was James's first sight of the lizard men and he said, "Gods,
Calis's reports didn't do them justice." The entire company made it
back into the refuge without being discovered, and when they were
safely into the sub basement, Lysle said, "Now what?"

"What's the only
other sewer exit likely to be unguarded?" asked James.

"North gate
outfall, but that puts us north of the city, not east," Lysle replied.

"True," said James, moving toward the loading ramp that led down to the
sewer, 'but we have less than an hour, and that gate is a half-hour's
walk from here. I'd rather be outside the city when it blows up than
inside worrying about who's out there. If we can get into the woods to
the north of Krondor, we might be able to find a way eastward." He
looked at the thirty soldiers and dozen thieves and knew it was
probably futile. But you must try. James looked at Gamina.

"Yes, we
must try." He led them off through the sewer.

Lord Vykor's eyes widened in astonishment. The creature seemed to
appear out of nowhere, striding across the burning decks of the enemy
fleet. Along the way to Krondor they had caught fifty ships on the
beach, and fast-running cutters with men throwing bottles of oil, or
larger ships with ballista or catapult had burned all of them. Nearly
twenty had been boarded, captured or sunk, so that with the destruction
of the ships in the harbor, more than half the enemy's fleet was
destroyed. By rough count he assumed another hundred and fifty to two
hundred ships were strung out along the northern coast of the Bitter
Sea or already engaged with Captain Reeves's flotilla. Now suddenly out
of the inferno that was Krondor's harbor a demon walked purposefully
toward him, striding across the decks of burning ships. Calmly the
Admiral drew his sword and said, "I think the creature means to board
us, Mr. Devorak."

"Fire I' shouted the captain, and ballista and bow
fire were unleashed on the creature. Some damage was done, and the
creature howled as the arrows struck his fifteen-foot-tall body, but he
walked on through the fire and seemed more irritated than injured.

"Veer off, Mr. Devorak."

"Aye, aye, Admiral." The fleet was withdrawing,
but Vykor's flagship, the Royal Glory, was closest to the burning
fleet. The creature reached the outer railing of the last ship burning
in the harbor, and stood up on the railing. With a prodigious leap and
a scream of anger, the beast unfolded its huge wings and sailed across
the gulf between the damaged fleet and Vykor's ship.

"Signal to fleet,"
said Vykor as his personal doom sailed down upon his ship.

"Make best
speed!" He never knew if the message got off, for Jakan, self elected
Demon King of the armies of Novindus, glided down upon him, scooping
him up and crushing him sp*me as he bit off half his head. The Admiral
had the brief satisfaction of driving his sword deep into the
creature's side
as it neared, but never heard the howls of pain, for he was dead before
Jakan felt the wound. Captain Devorak struck out with his blade and for
his troubles had his head snatched from his shoulders. The
bowmen above fired down upon the creature, to little effect, while the
less brave among the crew dove over the side. The two leading
commanders in the Royal Navy were now dead, and each captain would have
to make a decision on his own, seeking instruction from the senior-most
among them until a command structure could be reformed, but at least
the bulk of the invaders' fleet was destroyed. Jakan killed and ate
every man he could find, until he realized the ship had drifted to the
northwest of the city. He hated the touch of seawater it sucked
energy from him though he could abide it for a while. He abandoned
the ship and launched himself into the air, attempting to glide back
toward the inferno that was his fleet and city. Fire caused no pain for
him, though it was a terrible waste of life energy and meat. And
something called to him. Something unspoken said he could not just
start destroying this army that he had seized, but he must use it, must
move to the east, must find this thing that called to him. And from
some dark source, across a vast distance, came a word, a place, a
destination: Sethanon.

James saw the leading guard hold up his hand. Everyone stopped. They
had passed others along the way, refugees and invaders. No one seemed
eager to press an attack in the dark sewers, yet. But James knew that
if the invaders were flushing out those hiding below ground, the city
was now theirs. He calculated the time in his head and knew they had no
more than ten minutes. They were a dozen paces from

the northern gate, near the so-called sea gate, the gate used most by
smugglers and thieves to get in and out of the city. Lysle sent one of)
his thieves forward, a young woman who nimbly climbed up and reported
back that the way was clear. James signaled and the evacuation began.

Lysle said, "Out you go." James said, "No. I'll go last."

"Captains
and sinking ships?" asked Jimmy the Hand's brother. With a smile that
showed only pain and fatigue, he said, "Something like that."

"I'll
wait with you," Gamina said. James said, "I'd rather you didn't." In
his mind, James heard her say, You don't want to leave, do you? I don't
want to die, but I've caused so much death and destruction. This is the
only home I know, Gamina. I don't see how I can live with this. Do you
think I don't understand that? she asked. I hear your thoughts and I
feel your pain. There is nothing you can say that I won't understand.

He looked into her eyes and smiled, and this time the smile was one of
love and complete trust. Then the world around them exploded. The six
men on the other side of the gate were knocked to the ground and
stunned. Three who were in the gate were shot from it like corks from
a bottle and flew through the air, one breaking his neck on impact
twenty yards away, the other two sustaining broken bones. Inside the
tunnel the very air turned into flames for an instant. In that brief
moment, Gamina and James were linked in mind, their memories unfolding
together, from the first instant they met as James swam in the lake
near Stardock, first espying the love of his life as she bathed. Almost
drowning, he had been rescued by this woman
who looked into his mind and saw everything he was, everything he had
been, and loved him, who loved him despite everything he had done since
then, despite the things he had asked her to do that had caused her
pain. Everything around them was forgotten as they clung to that
profound love they had shared, the love that had brought them a son who
was safely away, and two grandsons they adored. For a brief instant
they relived their lives
together, from the journey to Great Kesh to the return to Krondor. As
flames burned away the flesh from their bodies, their minds were deep
within their love for one another and they felt no pain.

Pug cried out.

"Gamina." Hanam said, "What is it, magician?" Looking
desolate, Pug whispered, "My daughter is dead." The creature didn't
dare touch the magician to comfort him. The hunger was too fierce, and
the touch of human flesh might drive him into a feeding frenzy.

"I am
sorry," the creature said. Pug took a deep breath and let it out with
an audible sigh.

"My son and daughter are both dead." He had felt
William's death two daysearlier, and now with Gamina's passing a
portion of his life was closing behind him.

"I knew I would outlive
both of them, but to know something and experience it are two different
things."

"It is always thus," said the Saaur Loremaster from within the
demon's body.

"Among our race is a benediction that is repeated when a
boy becomes a man and is given his first weapon: "Grandfather dies,
father dies, son dies." Every Saaur repeats it when they get ready to
ride into battle, sons beside fathers, for there is no crueler fate
than for a parent to outlive a child."

"Macros called long life a
curse, and now I understand. When my wife died many years ago, that was
one thing, but this..." Pug wept for a while. Then he composed

himself and said, "I knew William was at risk, for he chose a soldier's
life. But Gamina.. ." His voice faltered, and again he wept Time
passed', and the demon creature said, "We must hurry, magician. I can
feel my control slipping." Pug nodded as he stood up, and they left the
cave. Macros and Miranda should be in place. Pug in canted and suddenly
they were invisible. He understood Macros's difficulty, for to do two
things at once was always a problem, but coupled with the stress of
expecting attack at any minute and the worry associated with achieving
the goal, it was proving to be more than one of the most difficult
things Pug had done. Pug levitated and discovered that once over the
initial strain of rising into the air, it was actually easier to float
along toward the city of Ahsart than it was to walk. out of the air the
voice of the demon said, "Fliers. A half-dozen winged creatures sped
across the sky, to the south, and Pug knew that if he and the Saaur
Loremaster hadn't been invisible, the creatures would have swooped down
and attacked. As foretold, life on this world was rapidly being
devoured. The once lush grasslands were now withered and brown; this
was an absence of life so obvious that no one would have confused it
with the sleeping dormancy of winter, where the plants would reawaken
with spring's rain. Trees, blackened and gnarled, dotted the landscape,
and the waters ran with a clarity so profound that Pug knew not even
algae lived in the pools. No insect buzz filled the air, and no bird
call could be heard. The only sound was the wind.

"It is worse here,"
said Hanam, as if reading Pug's thoughts.

"Here is where the creatures
first came into our world."

"But soon it will all be like this?"

"Soon."

"Now I see why they are anxious to find new worlds." Pug said,
"How is it they could reach this world, yet not ours?" With what Pug
had come to understand as a laugh, a barking sound came, followed by
Hanam's voice: "In their rush into this world to feed, the demons
destroyed the priests of Ahsart, the only ones on this world able to
control the portal. I believe that what you've said about the
Pantathians on your world means the demons have no allies on your world
trying to bring them over." As they approached the city of Ahsart, Pug
said,"Nothing we've seen of Jakan says he's anxious to open the way for
his brothers."

"Then let me give you this warning, Pug of Midkemia.

kKnowledge comes with the capture and devouring of souls. This would-be
Demon King may know of the Hall and the ability of some of your people
to make controllable rifts. If so, when he's captured enough of your
land to feel firmly in control, he may start invading other worlds."

Pug said, "I deduced as much."

"Then you know that even if we win here,
you must return and defeat Jakan." Pug said, "If I don't, Tomas will'
They entered the burned-out city and started looking for the great
temple, the entrance through which the demons had originally entered.

Inside they found Saaur bones, dead priests torn limb from limb by the
invading demons years before.

"It's not here!" said Pug.

"What?"

"The
portal. The rift into this world from the demon realm. It's not
here." Pug let them become visible.

"Where is it?" Hanam said, "There
can be only one answer."

"What?" 'they have moved the portal by magic
means, somehow,

to be near the rift into your world. That means they're preparing the
way to your world for Maarg! He must be close to coming through."

"Where is that?") "On the other side of the world."

"I cannot fly us
around the world and keep us invisible!" said Pug.

"I can't transport
us to a place I've never seen." The demon with the Loremaster's mind
said, "Then w, must fly, quickly, and fight whoever gets in our way."

He leaped to the air with what sounded like a war cry, and Pug
followed.

NINETEEN

Catastrophe

Roo grimaced. His shoulder hurt to the touch, but Luis assured him it
was without infection. When the bandage was changed, Luis said, "That
should do it for now. We'll clean it again tomorrow night when we
reach Willhelmsburg." Roo said, "A bed." He grinned at Karli, Helen,
and the children. For the first few days on the road the children had
treated the journey like an adventure, but since this morning Abigail
had been asking when they were going home. Karli had tried to explain
that it would be a long time, but a 'long time' more than five minutes
was lost on the three-year-old. Camp was relatively calm, though the
mercenaries Roo had hired looked more and more nervous as the days wore
on. Roo and Luis had spent enough time around soldiers to know these
were men used to sitting quietly, scaring off bandits, and rarely
having to pull sword or bowstring. Krondor had fallen. That had become
apparent from the incredible tower of black smoke that appeared in the
west, two days after they left, and from the increase in traffic on the
road east. More and more Roo spied the hired guards engaged in quiet
conversation, and he suspected they were ready to bolt at the first
sign of serious trouble. Roo had talked to Luis in private about his
doubts as to the reliability of the mercenaries, and Luis agreed. Luis
saw to it he spent enough time around them both to bolster their
resolve and to make it clear he was ready to deal

424 RAY MONDE FEIST RAGE OF A DEMON XING
harshly with anyone who didn't earn his pay. Roo knew that he had a
better chance of keeping his little caravan intact once they reached
Wilhelmsburg. They would rest, leave after a night in one of the inns
Roo owned, then make for Ravensburg. Roo had promised the men a
partial payment of their wages, and a little gold in their pockets
would keep them in line. If Erik's family and Milo's were still at
Ravensburg, Roo would take them to Darkmoor. He knew that eventually
Erik would end up there. Roo had thought about where he had been
shipping arms and supplies for the last year, and where his wagons had
taken tools and equipment, and the one thing Erik had said to him,
"Nightmare Ridge." He knew Royal Engineers had bolstered old roads or
cut new ones along the rear side of the ridge, hundreds of miles long,
that ran along the entirety of the eastern half of the Calastius
Mountains. The range looked like a squashed, inverted Y, with one long
leg and a short one. The long leg ran from just east of Krondor to the
Teeth of the World, the great range that ran across the north of the
Kingdom. The short, eastern leg ran from Darkmoor to north of the town
of Tannerus, where the legs met. Roo had figured that with Sethanon as
the aliens' ultimate goal, crossing the mountains north of Tannerus
took them too far from their goal. Anywhere to the south of that
point, they'd have to best Nightmare Ridge, and Roo knew that if the
bulk of the Kingdom Army was waiting along that granite wall, there was
a chance they'd survive. If the enemy could be kept on this side of
the ridge until the snows fell, the Kingdom would be victorious. But it
was only three weeks after midsummer's Day and the snows of winter
seemed ages away in the warm evening. Raised in Ravensburg, Roo knew
that the snows could come early, but he also knew they could come late,
and that only an oracle would know which would be the case this year.

In any event, the earliest they could see snow would be in six weeks,
and ten or twelve was more likely. Perhaps heavy rains they Were
common but snow was months away. Roo went to the fires and chatted
with Karli and Helen and tried to talk to the children. Children were
still a mystery to him, though their mere presence didn't inspire the
great discomfort it once had. He even found little Helmut's insistence
on putting everything in his mouth amusing, though it seemed to wear
Karli to a thin edge. Jason spent time with the children, keeping them
diverted, a talent for which Roo was greatly thankful. Helen's children
were older, and he could talk to Nataly and Willem, though the things
they found interesting were a mystery to him. Helen was a calm in a
sea of chaos, her ready smile and soft voice soothing to those around
her. In the firelight, Roo realized he was staring at her as the
children prattled, and he looked away. He saw Karli was watching him,
and smiled at her. She smiled back, in a tentative way, and he winked
and mouthed, "Everything is fine." He sat back, trying to keep from
putting pressure on his wounded shoulder, and let his gaze wander back
to Helen. He yawned and closed his eyes, the impression of her burned
on his memory. She wasn't pretty, though she was far from 'raw-boned'
as that bitch SYlvia had called her. She was what some men might call
handsome. But her two most appealing features were large brown eyes
and a broad, ready smile. And she had a firm still-slender body. Roo
then wondered if Luis could be anything but mad to think this woman,
this wonderful caring mother, could love a gutter rat like himself.

Sighing, Roo let his body give in to a comfortable doze, as the chatter
of the camp faded away, and the soothing warmth of the evening and the
sound of Helen's voice lulled him. Suddenly Roo was awake, as shouts
from the distance turned the camp into bedlam. Men ira ii and for a
moment

Roo blinked in disorientation as he tried to assess the situation. The
children were lying under blankets so some time must have passed since
he dozed off. After a moment Roo had his bearings and his battle
training came to the fore. Calmly, so as not to alarm the children, he
said, "Karli, Helen, get up!" Helen came awake and said, "What?"

"Get
the children into that wagon!" He pointed to one nearby.

"The coach
won't last on these roads if we must run." Luis ran up and said,
"Riders, heading this way, fast." He had his dagger in his hand. Since
his right hand had been injured, Luis never wore a sword anymore, but
with his left he was still a deadly knife fighter. Roo and Luis quickly
doused the low-burning fire, in the hope the riders hadn't caught sight
of the weak flames in the distance. Had they come hoursearlier, they
would have spotted the camp without difficulty. Some of the mercenaries
were now running for their horses, and Roo shouted, "Get the wagons
going!" It was still two hours or more before dawn, but the horses had
benefited from resting most of the night. With luck, they could be
away before whoever approached saw them, and continue on, arriving at
Wilhelmsburg earlier than anticipated. Drivers ran to get the horses
into traces, and Roo tried to help as well as he could with the injured
shoulder. Jason knew nothing about weapons or wagons, but he carried
whatever he was told to fetch, and Luis was a rock. But the
mercenaries were Roo's biggest concern. Now they~c were being asked
to stand steadfast against hard, vicious men who had been fighting for
years. The wagons began to get under way, and Roo got into the saddle
for the first time. He felt stiffness in his right shoulder as he
moved his sword, but he knew that his own was one of the few swords he
could count on.

Roo hovered at the rear of the caravan, watching the west anxiously, to
see the approaching riders. As the wagons rumbled toward the highway,
Roo glimpsed figures in the west, darker silhouettes against the murk.

He could only pray they would be cautious, fearing they were
approaching some of the Kingdom's army, rather
than a desperate band of civilians fleeing before them. For long,
terror-filled minutes, they moved over the grass, until they were back
on the compacted dirt of the highway. As soon as the metal-bound rims
of the wheels began to turn over the dirt and gravel of the road, Roo
felt his tension lessen. The farther along they were, the closer to
Wilhelmsburg, the better their chances of survival. Then a half-hour
later a man ahead shouted, while another screamed. Shouts from the
south side of the road told Roo the riders he had glimpsed had crossed
the highway, ridden up on a parallel course until they were certain
this was no army column they shadowed, then ridden ahead to spring an
ambush. Roo shouted, "Turn north!"a nd drew his sword. Ignoring the
pain in his arm, he pushed his horse forward to engage the first enemy
fighter he could find. It didn't take him long to find a ragged-looking
rider hacking at the guard on a wagon six ahead of Roo's own. The
mercenary guard was defending himself well enough, but other riders
were coming fast. Roo didn't try anything fancy. He slammed his heels
hard into his horse's sides, forcing the animal into doing something it
didn't want to do, crash into the other horse. The rider from the
Queen's army was thrown to the ground as his mount reared unexpectedly,
and Roo shouted to his guard, "Kill him!" Roo urged his horse forward,
toward the riders, who were only a wagon's length ahead. Then Luis was
at his side, reins tied around his right wrist, dagger in his left
hand. Roo wanted to tell him to get back and defend the women, but he
was too busy trying to stay alive. Roo killed one man and drove another
off, turning his horse to find Luis nursing a cut on his right arm
while holding his bloody dagger. Roo said, "You madman. Next time
stay behind with the women and if you've got to cut throats, do it from
there." Luis grinned and said, "I think I have to. I've never been
that good a rider." He used his chin to indicate his wound.

"I'd do
better on foot." Roo marveled at his calm.

"Go get Karli to dress
that. I'm going to see how badly we've done." Roo rode to the head of
the little caravan and found that two of his guards were dead and two
others had run into the early-morning gloom. The remaining six, with
Luis, himself, and Jason, were barely enough to defend two wagons, let
alone a dozen. Roo didn't hesitate. He said to the mercenaries, "Get
back to the last wagon." As they rode back to the end of the line of
wagons, Roo turned to those drivers still on their wagons and said,
"Get moving now. Straight on to Wilhelmsburg and to the Inn of the
Morning Mist. You get there in one piece, I'll give you a year's wages
in bonus." The teamsters didn't hesitate, but at once shouted and got
their animals moving. Roo rode to the remaining six guards and said,
"We're going to defend the last wagon. I'll personally kill the first
man who tries to run away." Luis said, "You think they're coming back?"

"Absolutely. I think we just surprised them when we put up a fight."

"How many?" asked Jason, trying not to look frightened The
former-waiter-turned-bookkeeper had never been exposed to violence
beyond an alehouse brawl before, and was trying mightily to be a
calming influence on the children.

"Too many," said Roo. He got out of
the saddle and led
his horse to the rear of the wagon, tying her reins to the tailgate.

He then moved to the front and mounted, picking up the reins from the
wagon driver, who sat shaking, and said, "Hang on." He turned the wagon
northward and shouted, "Follow me." The six guards, Luis, Jason and the
wagonload of his family and the Jacobys headed away from the road. Roo
knew it was a desperate gamble, but if he could get far enough from the
highway when the raiders returned, they
might not miss the one wagon seeking to find the small, little-used
road eastward, while they pillaged the wagons trying to race to the
east.

"They'll never make it," said Luis.

"Probably not, but if any
does, I will make good on my word and give the driver a year's wages in
gold, on the spot." Luis settled back into the wagon bed. It was
crowded as he and Jason sat with the children and the two women, but at
least for the moment they were safe.

Their luck didn't hold long. Roo had found a small game trail that led
into sparse woodlands, but it forced them into a gully that eventually
became too narrow for the wagon to navigate. They backtracked until
they found another route north, and again tried to find a way to the
small road leading east. Near midday, riders could be heard over a
small rise, and for several tense minutes, Roo, Luis, and the
mercenaries waited silently with weapons drawn while Karli, Helen, and
Jason kept the children quiet. When the last rider passed, less than
twenty yards off but out of sight, Roo signaled to turn toward the east
and see if they could find yet another route. By sundown they were
completely lost in the woods. Around a cold camp, they discussed
options, and one of
the mercenaries said, "I'm for just leaving this wagon and striking
east, Mr. Avery." Roo said, "How well do you know these hills?"

"Not
very, but our boys are to the east, so you said, and any road worth
calling such is going to have enemy cavalry riding along more likely
than not, so if we keep to the woods we could slip past them." Roo
said, "Between here and Darkmoor Province there are a dozen little
villages, give or take, and we might blunder into one of them, but if
we don't have a local guide, what we'll find is a sudden rise that
turns into a big enough hill it might as well be a mountain for how
easy we can get around it." He glanced around the quickly darkening
woods and said, "It'seasy to get turned around in the woods if you
don't know the way. You could be heading right into the enemy's arms
if you don't know what you're doing." The camp was so somber the
children were silent, looking at Roo and the other adults with large
eyes. Karli and Helen did what they could to reassure them, but in a
quiet way so as to encourage their continued silence. After a moment,
Roo said, "But I think you may be right. Unload the wagon and get
blankets and food. Leave the rest and we'll start walking tomorrow."

The mercenaries glanced at one another, but no one seemed willing to
say more, so they did as ordered. Roo sat and quietly watched his
children, the Jacobys, and the others in the failing light. Helen had
his son on her lap, singing to him softly as Karli held Abigail in her
arms. WWem leaned against his mother's shoulder, fighting off sleep,
determined to stay awake while Nataly was already asleep, on a blanket
between Helen and Karli. Jason made himself useful repacking the food
so it could be carried, and Luis kept close to the mercenaries, keeping
them calm and promising them bonuses when they got to Wilhelmsburg.

When the children were all asleep, Karli came to sit next to Roo.

"How
is your shoulder?" she asked. Roo realized that he had not thought
about it since the encounter with the raiders, and he flexed it.

"A
little stiff, but I'll be all right." She leaned in to him, whispering.

"I'm frightened." He put his left arm around her.

"I know. But if
we're lucky we'll be safe tomorrow." I She said nothing, just sitting
there, stealing comfort from his presence. Throughout the night they
sat silently, dozing . but unable to sleep, as the night noises of the
woods kept startling them. As the sky lightened, a few hours before
dawn, Roo quietly said, "Get the children up." As Karli did so, Roo
said to Luis, "We need to be moving before dawn."

"Which way?"

"East
and north. If we run into an obstacle in one direction, we head the
other. But we only turn around and go south or west if there is no
other way. Eventually we'll reach that road I told you of, or we'll
hit the farms outside Wilhelmsburg." Luis nodded.

"The mercenaries are
not to be trusted."

"I know, but if we make it clear they stand a
better chance with us, staying in a group, than they would on their own
-' The sound of horses alerted them and they both turned, to see the
six mercenary guards riding out in the pre-dawn gloom.

"Dam!" said
Luis. Roo said to Jason and Helen, who were now awake, "We don't have
time to eat. Grab what you can and let's get away. If there are any
raiders nearby, they'll hear that clatter and come looking." The
children complained, but their mothers quickly silenced them, and
handed them pieces of bread to chew on while they walked. Roo had
studied their surroundings
the evening before and had spied a small dry creek bed that ran to the
northeast. He decided that would most certainly take them upward, into
the foothills, so he would follow it until they found a clear route to
the east or north. lee I The going was slow. The children couldn't
move quickly and they tired easily, but they managed to keep going for
a fuH hour. Then they had to rest. There were no signs of pursuit.

After resting for a quarter- hour, Jason picked up Helmut, freeing
Karli from carrying the youngest of the four children. They continued
along, finding the way difficult, with dead falls and debris providing
constant obstacles. When it was near midday, they heard distant sounds
of fighting 9 echoing through the trees. They couldn't tell from which
directions the sounds came. They moved on.

Erik said, "We've done well." Greylock said, "Given the total collapse
at Krondor, well enough." He consulted reports that had come his way
from positions to the north and south of him and said, "We have one
nasty surprise."

"What?"

"Great Kesh has moved to occupy everything in
the Vale of Dreams." Erik said, "I thought Prince Erland had arrived at
some sort of treaty with them?"

"Apparently the Keshians didn't agree."

Erik shrugged. He waseating his midday meal with Greylock. Owen's
command would be pulling out after they finished eating, once Erik's
men had finished occupying the position Greylock's command had dug.

M's men were pleased they didn't have to create the barricades and
could rest until the enemy put in an appearance.

"As I judge things,"
said Greylock, 'you must hold here for five days instead of four."

"I'll try for six," said Erik. Greylock nodded.

"News from the north
is good. Captain Subai and the Pathfinders have been able to get their
men through the mountains with little trouble." Erik laughed.

"Wait
until the enemy is up there in
strength."

"Well, part of the plan is to keep them from getting up
there in strength." Owen sighed.

"Reports are the fighting is the
hardest in the north. There's a company of Hadati alongside some of
our boys, and they've dug in near a tiny pass southeast of Questor's
View." Erik called up from memory the maps he had studied and nodded.

That position would have to hold; to let the enemy through in numbers
up there would give them a clear route down the eastern face of the
mountains, bypassing Darkmoor, straight to Sethanon.

"But the enemy
isn't up there in sufficient numbers to dislodge them." Erik said, "I'm
too tired to think. once we're dug in, I'm going to sleep." Owen rose,
laughing.

"I doubt it. You'll check everything twice before you'll
decide you're sufficiently dug in, so you won't sleep until nightfall."

Erik shrugged.

"How much time have we gained?"

"Two days. We still
need to pick up three weeks." Erik said, "I don't know if we can."

"If
we don't, we'll have massive fighting in Darkmoor and along the ridge."

"What of the Armies of the East?o Owen said, "They're behind the ridge,
waiting.o Erik said, "I wish they were right over there." He pointed to
an area where his men were readying weapons and supplies. Owen put his
hand on Erik's shoulder.

"I understand. It's difficult watching your
men get ground up bit by bit. But it's necessary." Erik said, "Prince
Patrick made that clear to me, as did

Knight-Marshal William. But no one said I had to like it."

"Understood," said Owen. Turning to a sergeant of his command, he
said, "Sergeant Curtis."Yes, Genera . "Get the men ready to march."

"Sir," The sergeant turned and hurried away, shouting orders.

""General," said Erik with a grin.

"Suppose Manfred regrets
discharging his Swordmaster?" Owen said, "Ask him when you get to
Darkmoor." Owen mounted his horse.

"Besides, he really didn't have
anything to say about it. It was Mathilda who gave me the boot." At
mention of his father's widow, Erik said, "I suppose I'm going to have
to deal with her soon."

"Only if you stay alive, my friend," said Owen,
then he turned his horse and walked him away. Over his shoulder he
said, "So stay alive."

"Fare well, Owen." Erik left the campfire and
started inspecting his men's positions. Owen had been right, and it
was hours after sunset before Erik found time to sleep.

Roo, Jason, and Luis stood with weapons ready as the two women hurried
the children up the bank to a cave. They had moved without difficulty
for two days, finding rough trails that kept moving toward their goals.

They had found a woodsman's cabin, abandoned but untouched, where they
had spent one night, risking a small fire, though Roo worried the scent
of smoke in the air might reveal their position. They had left the
relative comfort of that cabin and were now no more than one day's
travel from the road Roo remembered, when they heard the sound of
riders, growing louder by the minute. Roo didn't know if the riders
had picked up their trail or were just heading their way
by chance, but either way they were rapidly getting closer. From the
sound of it, it was a small group, maybe a half-dozen riders or less,
but with Roo's shoulder injury, Luis having only one good hand and a
dagger, and Jason having no experience with a weapon, even two skilled
mercenaries would have been dangerous. If the riders had bows, Roo
knew they were lost. Their best chance for the women and children was
for them to get out of sight and
stay in hiding. Roo and the two other men were determined to delay
anyone coming their way long enough to facilitate their escape. Roo
glanced over his shoulder and saw Helen usher the children into the
cave's mouth, and he thought she smiled back at him. At this distance
he couldn't be sure. Soon four riders came into view, at the far end of
the the wash Roo's band had been hiking. Roo said, "Jason, if this
turns ugly, don't try to be a hero. Try to hamstring one of the horses
and don't get killed. Luis and I will try to take care of the
fighters." Seeing three men in their path, the riders slowed to a walk.

Luis said, "If they stay in single file, they'll talk. If they fan
out, they're going to fight." The four riders continued in single file.

When they were a dozen paces away, the leader held up his hand and
studied the three men. After a moment, he said, "Who are you?" Roo
realized they were speaking the language of Novindus, somewhat
accented, so he judged they were from a different part of the continent
than those Roo had visited. Roo hazarded a bluff.

"My name is Amra."

hearing their own tongue, the four riders seemed to relax a little.

The leader pointed to Luis.

"And you?"

"Haji, from Maharta," he
answered without hesitation.

"And you?" he said to Jason. Before Jason
could open his mouth, Roo said, "He's mute. His name is Jason."

Jason couldn't understand a word of this strange dialect, but upon
hearing his name, he nodded.

"What company?" asked the leader as the
second rider moved out of line and came to stand next to him. Both men
still held weapons, ready to act if they didn't like the answer. Roo
thought furiously. He knew things had changed radically in the Queen's
army since Calis's Crimson Eagles had served in it. He knew the names
of some companies, but had no idea if they still existed, or where they
might be stationed. But he also knew no answer would get them killed
as quickly as a wrong answer. Softly, Roo said, "We were put into
Shinga's Black Blades after the battle of Maharta." The second rider
said, "Deserters?" Roo said, "No, we ran into some of the Kingdom's
lancers and they cut us up." Luis lowered his dagger slightly, as if
relaxing, and said, "We got loose and ran. Somewhere along the way we
got completely lost. We've been wandering around these woods for a
week. We found a little food, but we're pretty hungry. We're trying
to get back to our own side." Roo said, "Can you help us get back?

We're really not deserters." The other two riders moved their horses
and took up the flanks. The leader of the four said, "Not deserters?

That's too bad. We are." Suddenly they charged, and Luis and Roo were
diving out of the way. Roo hit the ground, rolled, and came up in a
crouch, in time to see Jason standing rooted in terror as he was ridden
down by the second rider, who unleashed a blow at the clerk. Jason
ducked and lashed out with his . blade, and Roo saw it wrenched from
his hands as he was knocked to the ground and struck in the shoulder by
a horse's hoof. A horse's scream indicated he had done some damage
with his sword, but he lay on the ground, in blinding pain, unable to
move. The horse he had wounded stumbled, its right foreleg bloody from
the deep wound Jason's thrust had caused, throwing his rider over his
shoulder. Roo had rolled and come up, ready for the second charge.

Luis threw his dagger and took one of the men in the neck, killing him
before he hit the ground. The thrown rider was groaning as he lay on
the ground, and Luis and Roo faced an equal number of opponents. Luis
pulled a second dagger from his boot and crouched. The two men spoke
softly to each other, obviously aware that Luis's ability to throw his
weapon made him a more dangerous opponent. They shouted as they urged
their horses into a charge, and they appeared to be charging both men,
but at the last instant, the one heading for Roo turned and circled
around to attack Luis from behind. Luis threw his dagger at the rider
heading straight for him, who dropped over the neck of his horse,
presenting almost no target. Luis had anticipated such a move, and had
thrown low, aiming at the man's exposed thigh. The blade struck the
man full in the right thigh, and he howled in pain as he sat up, trying
to move away from Luis as his companion charged him. Luis had a third
dagger, carried in his shirt, out, and was throwing the moment the man
sat up. He took the blade in the throat and fell over the rear of his
horse. Roo charged the man who rode past him, as soon as his back was
turned. While he bore down on Luis, who was turning and attempting to
get another dagger out of his sash, Roo held his sword above his head.

The rider slashed down at Luis, who attempted to dodge, but the rider
compensated and caught Luis on his right shoulder, the blade biting
deep. Roo's blow caught the rider from behind, slicing deep into his
leg. Bone was exposed as the rider screamed in pain and attempted to
turn, only to lose consciousness in the saddle as he went into shock.

Roo quickly kffle him. He rushed to Luis and saw the man was barely
conscious. He was about to speak to him when he heard a scream from
behind. Roo spun to see the rider who had been thrown standing over
Jason. The young clerk was on one elbow, blood running down his face
from a scalp wound, while the soldier drew back his blade for a killing
blow.

"No!" Roo shouted as he started to run. His legs were leaden,
each step impossibly slow and heavy. He tried to hurry, but the
soldier's blow descended like a flash, and Jason screamed in pain. He
had turned, and the thrust that should have silenced him left him
contorted in pain, screaming. Roo drew back his own blade, and swung
with all his strength. He missed the soldier's body, but sliced
through the man's wrist, and the sword tumbled through the air, the
hand still holding the hilt. The man looked at his bleeding stump in
disbelief, not even seeing the next blow, which sliced the back of his
exposed neck, causing his death as he slumped to the ground. Roo knelt
next to Jason, whose eyes were wide with pain and terror.

"Mr. Avery,"
he said, clutching at Roo's shirt.

"I'm here," said Roo, cradling
Jason's head. Jason's eyes were unfocused, as if he couldn't see, and
Roo saw the wound was a killing one. The head wound had come from the
horse's flying hoof, but the gut wound pumped blood in a quick rhythm,
and Roo knew an artery deep in the body had been severed. Jason's life
was running onto the ground by the moment. Jason said, "I'm sorry, Mr.
Avery." Roo said, "You did well."

"I'm sorry I betrayed you." Roo said, "What do you mean?"

"I was the
one who gave Sylvia Esterbrook information to pass along to her
father," he said, then began coughing blood.

"I don't understand," said
Roo.

"How did you know her?"

"When you first came to Barret's, I told
you of her, and told you she was wonderful."

Roo's head swam. The fight, his wound, and now this.

"Jason, how did
you and Sylvia do this?"

"I would pass her servant notes," said Jason.

"She would write back to me. She promised that someday, when I was
rich, she'd tell her father about me." Roo was stunned. Sylvia had
played himself, Duncan, and now Jason for fools. After a moment, Jason
said, "Mr. Avery. Please, sir, forgive me." Looking about the woods,
with Luis lying unconscious or perhaps dead across the clearing, with
the women and children hiding up in a cave, Roo could only say, "It
doesn't matter, Jason. None of it matters." Softly Jason said, "She
kissed me once, Mr. Avery. When no one was looking, as she got into her
carriage, she leaned over and kissed my cheek." Then his eyes rolled up
into his head and he died. Roo sat motionless, not knowing whether to
cry or laugh. The boy had died thinking the murdering bitch was his
perfect angel. Roo had not mentioned to anyone in the camp besides
Luis that Sylvia was dead. Roo silently saluted her, for she had known
what to do to get what she wanted from the men she had used. For
Duncan, it had been the promise of power and money, for Jason, some
childs story of the princess and commoner finding true love a kiss on
the cheek and love notes and for Roo? Roo laughed a bitter laugh as
he let Jason's head fall to the damp ground. He rose, thinking. For
Roo she had promised a perfect love that doesn't exist.

I '

Before meeting Sylvia, Roo never had any idea that love was anything
other than a myth believed by people less intelligent than he, or a
useful lie to get a town girl to spread her legs' but never had he felt
the lie of love to be so monstrous as he did at this minute. Even from
the grave Sylvia haunted his thoughts. He reached Luis's side thinking
it unfathomable how three men could look at the same woman and see
three different women, or how each could believe her lies so readily.

And he couldn't understand how he could still feel such longing for her
while detesting her so deeply. Luis's breathing was shallow, and his
complexion was waxy. He groaned when Roo tried to move him, and tried
to help as Roo picked him up, slipping his uninjured shoulder under
Luis's good arm. Half staggering, half dragging his friend, Roo tried
to get him to the cave. When he was a short distance from it, Helen
Jacoby looked out and when she saw Roo struggling to bring Luis to the
mouth of the cave, she hurried down and helped the exhausted Roo. They
got Luis inside, and Roo discovered that the cave was large, though
shallow. It was illuminated enough from outside that he could see
everything clearly. Karli gasped as they entered the cave, and tears
welled up in her eyes as she asked, "Jason?" Roo shook his head. Helen
began tending to Luis while Karli tried to keep her own distress from
further upsetting the children.

"Who were they?" Karli asked.

"Deserters, from the Queen's army."

"Will there be more?" asked Helen.

"Undoubtedly," answered Roo, resting on the cave floor a minute.

"I
don't know if they're going to be heading this way, but it means we
have to be wary of any riders or men on foot we spy until we know for a
fact they're Kingdom soldiers."

He sighed and stood up.

"I need to find those horses and see if they
have anything useful on them." He also needed to bury Jason and the
four dead men, but he thought it best not to speak of it. Staggering
down the hill, Roo saw that the wounded horse was only a few yards
away, but the other three had
wandered up the hillside and were trying to eat the small patches of
grass that grew around a small clearing. Roo wasn't the expert that
Erik was when it came to horses, but one look at the deep wound in the
horse's flank told him he wouldn't recover without a healer's aid;

there was bone exposed and the horse limped as if hobbled. He walked as
calmly as he could to where the three horses grazed, and made clicking
sounds and talked softly. Two of the horses started to move away, but
one remained close enough for him to get his hands on its bridle. Roo
checked the bedroll and found a few items of worth inside, a silver
candlestick and some coins. Roo tied the first horse's reins to a
branch on a deadfall and got the second. It also had a few items of
worth on it, but nothing else of use. The third horse was more
interested in playing keep away than in eating, so after Roo had chased
it for about fifty yards, he started throwing rocks at it, attempting
to drive it away so that should anyone else come across the wandering
mount, it wouldn't lead them back to Roo's location. Roo found one of
Luis's daggers still stuck in one of the dead men, and he pulled it
out. He quickly put down the lame horse, whose scream caused the two
re * * g horses to shy. But he had tied them well enough that they
remained where he had left them. Then he turned to the grisly task of
searching the corpses. Like all former soldiers, he found the idea of
rifling the dead was repugnant, yet he knew that anything of real worth
would be on these men. He discovered three

I'

pouches of gold and one of gems. Roo put the valuables on one of the
two remaining horses and stockpiled the weapons. He had five daggers,
a long knife, and six swords. He carried these to the cave and
deposited them inside. He asked Helen, "How's Luis?"

"Not good," she
said softly. She looked at Roo and shook her head slightly. Roo had
seen enough wounds to know that Luis might not live through the night.

He turned and went down the hill. He decided he'd move the horses
after he disposed of the dead. He had no shovel, so digging a grave was
out of the question, unless he wanted to try to do it with one of the
swords. He found a small fissure in the middle of the dry creek and he
rolled the dead into it. He hated the idea of burying Jason with the
four deserters, but the safety of his family was more important than
anything else. He used the poorest of the six swords to dislodge dirt
and cover the dead, then started carrying rocks to cover them. After
an hour of this heavy labor, he was nearly exhausted and was on his
knees piling up the rocks as best he could. He attempted to keep them
below the lip of the fissure, so that when he sprinkled branches and
leaves over it, anyone coming by might not notice the grave. He was
placing the last rock on the grave when something pushed him from
behind. Roo turned and was scrambling for the sword when he saw a
curious horse looking him in the eye. The animal he had chased off had
grown bored and returned, and had come down to see what he was doing.

Finding the work uninteresting, the horse demanded Roo's attention. Roo
reached out quickly and grabbed its reins. The horse shied, and pulled
back, yanking Roo to his feet. He yanked once, cried, "Whoa!" and let
pressure off so the horse didn't fly into a panic. The animal responded
and held its position. Roo led it
to the others and tied it to the tree. He searched the blanket roll
behind the horse's saddle and found some more gold and a gem. Roo
looked around and tried to spot a better location to hide the horses,
but couldn't see one. If they were going to use them, he'd have to
risk their being discovered. Fatigue gripped him as he trudged up the
hill. He thought it would be ironic in the extreme if he had gone
to all the trouble of burying the five bodies only to have the three
horses standing there give him away. He looked at the dead horse and
realized he'd have to attempt to cover it up before leaving, but
decided he'd wait until the next day. Hiding the dead animal was
pointless until he was ready to lead the living ones away. He reached
the cave mouth and found that Karli had distributed some more bread and
pieces of cheese to the children. He took a hunk of each as it was
handed to him and sat down. He couldn't remember ever having been this
tired. Helen said, "His breathing is better, I think." Roo glanced over
and couldn't see any difference.

"I think you're right," he lied. Roo
chewed on the bread, finding it was drying out as the days wore on.

Still, it was food, as was the hard cheese, and he welcomed the taste.

"We have a skin of wine," said Karli, and she handed it across to Roo.

He thanked her and took a mouthful. The wine tasted particularly
piquant in combination with the yellow cheese, but Roo was glad for it.

Helen said, "What do we do?"

"There are three horses. If we can get
Luis on one, and two of the children on each of the others, we can lead
them out tomorrow." Helen looked at Luis and her expression was
dubious, but she said nothing. Karli tried a brave smile and failed.

Roo chewed and swallowed, and let his body rest as best it could
against the rocks. After finishing his food, he stumbled out of the
cave and down the hill, and returned with the four blanket rolls used
by the deserters. He didn't care how filthy they were, these woods
could get chilly at night and they couldn't risk a fire. After the
blankets had been spread and everyone bedded down for the night, he sat
staring into the night. Time passed and for all his fatigue he
couldn't risk sleeping. Sometime in the middle of the night, Helen
Jacoby appeared at his side, sitting down next to him. Softly, so as
not to wake the others, she said, "I think he's going to be all right."

Roo whispered, "You've not seen a wounded man after he's been strapped
to a horse for a day or two. We may kill him if we move him."

"Can't
we stay another day?" Roo said, "No. And Luis would be the first to
tell me to try to get you to safety. Each day brings more soldiers,
from both sides, as well as more deserters into this area." Helen
slipped her arm through his, putting her head on his shoulder as if it
were the most natural act. She hugged his arm, and he was acutely
aware of her full breast pressed against him and the scent of her hair.

At last she said, "Thank you, Roo." Roo said "For what?"

"For being a
kind and caring man. You've done everything for my babies a father
would. You've protected us when other men would have left us in ruin
and without resources." They were quiet a long time, and then Roo felt
warmth on his shoulder as her tears soaked into the fabric of his
shirt. He patted her hand and could think of nothing to say. After a
silent time, she reached up and turned his head toward hers. She
kissed him lightly on the lips, then softly
she said, "You're a good man, Roo. The children love you." After a
pause, she said, "And I love you." Roo was silent; then he said,
"You're the best woman I know, Helen. I admire you." He dropped his
head, as if unable to look into her eyes, though how much she could see
in this darkness was problematic.

"And I'd be a liar if I said I
haven't thought about you, as a man thinks of women, but to tell you
the truth, I find that I can't bring myself to believe in love." She
said nothing for a long time, then rose silently an
returned to the children. Roo sat alone through the rest of the
night.

TWENTY

Decisions

Miranda paced. Macros said "Will you stop that, please?" She sat. For
days they had been studying the site of the rift between Midkemia and
Shila, and they had discovered that it had unusual properties. Macros
had spent a great deal of time investigating the structure of the magic
involved and had arrived at the conclusion that the rift had been
sealed from this side. He had voiced his suspicions to Miranda, who
had said she had no idea what he was talking about. Miranda said, "How
long are you going to stare at that thing?"

"Until I know what it is
I'm dealing with." She sighed.

"What else do you need to know?"

"Well,
there is a great deal I would like to know. I would like to know how
the Pantathians have succeeded in creating a rift that Pug couldn't
detect. I'd like to know how they managed to create one that's
different in several significant properties from any I've ever seen.

This is very much like those rifts created by the accidental
combination of too much magic, yet it also behaves in some very stable
ways, much like the artificial rifts the Tsurani created. But what has
me most concerned is that it has qualities of magic I've never thought
of, let alone encountered. This one is almost "organic," if I had to
find a word to use, something almost alive." 'alive?"

"Most rifts are like tunnels or doorways. This one is like a ...
wound."

"You're not serious?"

"Observe," he said, and he waved his
hand. Mystic energies came into being, a shimmering gate of blue-white
light, woven closed with strands of what appeared to be blue-green
energy, a threading of lines so tight nothing could squeeze through.

"The whiter light is the energy pulse of the rift. Notice how it seems
to move slightly, like a thing breathing."

"Energy pulse?"

"Each
occurrence of magic leaves a signature, a pattern of forces that can
tell you a great deal about what has taken place. Rifts are both
unique and common. They are unique in that each acts in a particular
way, in where it comes from and where it goes to, but common in that
they share many properties. This one is more unique than
common. in fact, it's completely unique." He rubbed his chin.

"I
would love to have the opportunity to study the rift to the demon
realm. It might give me a clue to who built this one." He sat back
with a sigh.

"I'm certain it wasn't the Pantathians. Someone else
gave them the tools to do this."

"Who?"

"I don't know." He pointed at
the rift.

"This one was opened from the other side. If you get a
chance to study enough of these fissures in space and time, you'll be
able to tell the difference between the sending side and the receiving
side, or if it's a two-way gate this is a two-way gate." He shook his
head in obvious wonder.

"Now, this other energy," he said, pointing to
the weaving.

"This is even stranger."

"What is it?"

"A barrier,
obviously, but one that puzzles me." He motioned for her to come
closer.

"What do you see here?" he asked, pointing to several of the
strands.

:~- t

"Dark green strands."

"Hnunm. To me they're more of a lime color.

Anyway, look closer." She leaned forward and studied the strands.

"There's something irregular about this."

"Yes!" he said with delight.

"I think they have been sundered and reconnected."

"By whom?" Macros
sat.

"If what Hanam has told us is entirely accurate, he was the
uninvited guest when the third demon was sent through. I suspect the
first two encountered Pantathians. The first one fought and killed
many, while the second, this Jakan, slipped away to safety. The first
demon may have been the one you witnessed when you came here with
Calis: the huge killer, driven mad or mindless by the Pantathians'
magic."

"So Jakan slipped away, started sneaking around the halls, ~g
as he went and building up his strength," Miranda said.

"Yes.

Eventually the Pantathians rallied, and sealed this rift again-' "That
must have been when we found their deepest en dave and killed those
high priests." Macros nodded.

"I wondered what happened to the first
demon." Miranda looked around.

"Dead? I hope." Macros laughed.

"If
he's still around, I think the two of us can deal with him. He won't
have had much to eat, and from what you told me, he didn't appear to
have much of a mind left." Miranda said, "It's hard to appraise the
intellect of a demon when it's embroiled in a battle with a dozen
Pantathian serpent priests."

"True," he agreed.

"There are three
different ways we could approach this. We could wait to see if
something else tries to break through from the other side. Or we
could
attempt to unwrap these barrier forces, letting whatever is on the
other side come through unaided. or we could destroy the barrier and
go through to the other side."

"I like the fourth choice."

"Which is?"

"We do our best to reinforce the barrier." Macros shook his head.

"No,
that won't do."

"Why not?"

Macros looked at his daughter.

"I take it you haven't studied rifts
much?"

"Not at all. I know next, to nothing about them." Macros
shrugged.

"Well, there's a large volume of my work on the subject in
Pug's library. But given we can't risk the time to return there and
wait while you study, let me sum up: no matter what barriers we add to
those already in existence, as long as the rift exists it can be
opened. We not only have to destroy it, we have to ensure that the
demons don't create another."

"I was under the impression the demons
followed the Pantathian rift," Miranda said.

"Or is there something
else here you're not telling me?"

"Not really. Just that it's foolish
to make assumptions. We both know we have things locked away up here."

He tapped his head with his forefinger.

"We both feel comfortable that
the knowledge is locked away for a good reason, but we are foolish not
to draw a few likely conclusions from the fact of that hidden
knowledge."

"Such as?"

"Such as there may be yet another player who had
a hand in the creation of these rifts. From what we know, the demons
seized the advantage when the mad priests of Ahsart opened the seal
between their realm and Shila, but no one has asked who built that
portal in the first place. Why were the priests of Ahsart driven to
open the rift to the demon realm? What compulsion or obsession
involved them in that particular idiocy?

"We also know that the Pantathians came here easily with the Saaur, yet
the demons must struggle to come 5Ihere, and given the conflict between
them, they are not allies."

"Or at least allies who had a falling out."

"That's possible," admitted her father. Miranda said, "Well, we can
chat about this until the world ends. What do you suggest?"

"We wait.

I have a feeling that when Pug and Hanam finish on their side of the
rift, things might get lively here." Miranda sighed.

"Do we have the
time?" Macros shrugged.

"Enough for a few more days." She stood.

"Then I'm going to transport to Sorcerer's Isle and get a bath. I'll
bring back some food." Macros shook his head.

"Don't bother. Tell
Gathis I'll be along shortly. I'll visit with him while I eat there.

It will be good to see him again. Then I intend to take a bath as
well." She smiled.

"Good. I wasn't going to say anything..." He
returned her smile.

"I know I haven't been a father to you, but I must
say I'm pleased with the woman I see here."

"Thank you," she said
stiffly.

"Before you go, I would like to know one thing." what?" Pug?"

"What about him?"

"Are you going to wed?"

"If he asks me," she said.

"I love him and think we could have a good life together." Macros said,
"I have demonstrated without question no expertise when it comes to
falling in love." He sighed *m memory.

"Your mother was a woman of
remarkable beauty and uncommon guile. I can't claim I was young, but I
was inexperienced, and at first our time together was pleasant."

He frowned as he said, "Your birth was something neither one of us
dealt with well, and for that I apologize." Miranda said, "What's done
is done."

"True, but at least I can say I regret some of it."

"Only
some of it?"

"Well, I do like how you turned out, and if I could I
don't know what I would change, for to change anything in your past
would risk turning you into less than you are
now."

"Or more?" He smiled.

"I don't see how that's possible." She
smiled at her father.

"Thank you for that."

"I mean it." He sat back
and stared at the rift.

"Pug is fortunate, and if he doesn't ask you,
you do the asking. I think you need each other."

"I thought you said
you had no expertise."

"It's a father's prerogative to give unwelcome
advice. Now run along and take your bath." She vanished, and he sighed.

He let regrets about past failings fade into the background as he
returned his attention to the rift and wondered what was happening on
the other side.

Pug stood panting, his robe torn and his face bathed in perspiration.

He and Hanam had fought a battle with six man-size fliers, and the
conflict had come close to ending their quest. One of the creatures
alone would not be any match for either of them, but three on Pug and
three on the Saaur Loremaster had proven a close thing. Hanam feasted
on the three remaining dead demons. Pug had vaporized the other three.

He watched in fascination as Hanam ate flesh and drank energies. As he
shifted his perceptions, he could see how the Saaur Loremaster had used
his intelligence to subvert the creature. When it was finished eating,
Hanam said,

"This feast will make it easier for me to concentrate."

"How far have
we to go?"

"The demons are not that clever, but they are being driven
to wider patrols looking for anything to eat." Pointing to the bits of
flesh thrown around the rocks on which they stood, he said, "These
would have been required to bring back anything they found to Cibul, to
feed those captains attempting to open the rift to your world." He
glanced around, as if apprehensive about further detection.

"By
traveling along this course, we avoid many of the demons."

"We have
been flying over ice and mountains for a day and more," said Pug.

"True." The demon form pointed to the south.

"There we will find
Cibul. We may be able to come close before we have to hide ourselves
from demon sense. And be warned, the spells you use to confound the
simple demons may not suffice for the captains and lords."

"I will do
what needs to be done."

"Then we must plan," Hanam said.

"I have no
wish to continue this life. My soul begs to be joined with my brothers
in the Sky Horde, here on Shila. So here is what I propose. Let me
attack whichever great lord we may discover, drawing off any guards and
servants nearby. That will give you time to examine and close the rift
to the demon realm." Pug said, "A brave plan, but I don't know if it
will gain me enough time. There are things here that worry me. I have
the vanity to think I know as much about the nature of rift magic as
anyone, including Macros, and until I saw the empty altar at Ahsart, I
would have told you that an open rift could not be moved in the fashion
you describe. That means there are forces at play beyond my knowledge.

It may also mean that closing the rift may be beyond my ability."

"What
will you do if that is the case?"

Pug said, "I will do the only thing I can think of: destroy the rift to
Midkemia and hope that is enough."

"With Macros attempting the same
feat from the other side, will you be able to?"

"Undoubtedly one of us
will succeed."

"Then let us go among them and do what we can." The
demon figure launched himself outward, with a snap of gigantic wings,
gliding down the mountain slope rather than flying. He let his
downward speed build up, and then, with a flex of his wings, he was
soaring high in
the air. Pug used his magic to fly after him. They dove and flew close
to the ground, in the hope of avoiding detection. Pug glanced to the
west and saw the sun set. The lack of light would help a little,
though demons saw at night almost as well as cats. Above a world
devastated by forces alien to anything Pug had witnessed in his life
they flew; from trees to grass, from humans to the smallest insect, the
lands around the once great city of Cibul were devoid of life. Pug
could sense it was more than the destruction of war or forest fire,
where the land was burned, for there a sign of life would be seen here
or there, even if only a blade of grass. Here there was nothing. They
were within a mile of the city when Hanam said, "Cloak our passage,
magician." Pug forced his mind into the difficult task of rendering the
two of them invisible while flying. He felt terrible pain from the
unusual exertion but accomplished the requirements for both without
faltering. For a few minutes the pain lingered, then it began to
lessen as Pug mastered this combination of magics. As they flew over
the city, several demons below turned to look up, as if sensing
something, but none gave alarm. Pug hoped they would reach their
destination soon. Hanam landed in what had once been a lush garden, and
now was a burned-out mass of dead plants on rock.

No moss or lichen, algae or mold clung to the tiniest corner of this
formerly flourishing place. Once they were safely inside a vast hall,
Pug dropped the spell of invisibility.

"Are you all right?" asked the
Saaur Loremaster.

"It will take a minute for me to regain my strength.

I need to catch my breath." Pug managed a smile.

"It's getting easier
to do this, but I'd rather not have to practice in the future under
these conditions."

"Understood. Abide here a while. I will be back."

So saying, the Saaur Loremaster in demon body left the
room. Pug sat on the wreckage of a once-grand bed, on a piece large
enough to provide him a comfortable resting place. The faint evening
light could not hide the opulence of the residence. A Saaur noble of
rank had slept here, perhaps the leader or his primary consort. Pug
heard a faint scuffle outside and was on his feet as Hanam entered,
carrying a struggling demon by the head. As Plug watched, the Saaur
cracked the skull and drank the creature's life energies.

"Is that
wise?" asked Pug.

"Necessary. If I am to face Tugor or Maarg, and hold
them at bay even for a few minutes, I must gather as much strength as
possible. If I prayed for a chance of victory, I would lie in wait for
months, killing as many demons as possible, until they became aware of
my hunt and sought me out. After I battled the hunters and survived, I
would then come and announce myself to the one whom I challenged. At
that point I would be granted single combat.

"But I have no desire to
win. I wish release from this prison." He tapped the crystal vial
hanging from a chain around his neck.

"This is a favor I must ask of
you, magician." He removed the vial and handed it to Pug.

"When the
battle is high, release my soul by smashing the vial."

"What will
happen?"

"I will be free, and the demon whose body I control will

be destroyed. But if that vial isn't broken, any demon who found it
would be able to continue my captivity." Pug nodded and took the vial,
placing it inside his robe.

"Tine is short," said the Loremaster.

"Come." They hurried through several halls to a large chamber,

where several other demons gathered. Two rifts hung in the air, only a
few meters apart, while strange cloaked figures, hunched over and
shambling, moved between them. The demons didn't notice them.

"What
are they?" asked Hanam.

"I recognize them," said Pug.

"They are
Shangri, also called Panath-Tiandn, creatures I have faced once before.

They live on a world called ilmiri, where magic is a solid matter,
manipulated by machine and will They may be related to the Pantathians.

I still don't know their part in all this."

"What are they doing?"

"They've moved both rifts I' Pug exclaimed.

"They mean to create a
direct path from the demon realm to Midkemia!"

"Then Maarg is soon to
come through." A demon turned and saw them, and screeched an alarm.

Hanam didn't hesitate, but launched himself at the creature. Rather
than engage the first creature, who crouched, claws extended in
anticipation of the attack, he leaped past, slashing its throat with a
talon. One demon, larger than Pug could have imagined possible, turned
and shouted, "Hold!" Hanam screamed, "Tugor! I challenge. Meet me and
die." The other demons fell back. Pug didn't know if they ignored him
because of the challenge, but he rendered himself invisible. Hanam and
Maarg's captain squared off. Pug saw at once that Hanam had been
right, for in a fair fight, Tugor would quickly destroy the lesser
demon. But what the captain didn't understand was that the Loremaster
of the Saaur

'i
faced him, not another lesser demon, and that being was prepared to
die. Pug hurried to the two rifts and attempted to make some sense of
them. The two shambling creatures ignored the demons, working like
automatons on the two rifts. When Pug had first encountered these
creatures, years before, he had found them nearly mindless servants of
an unknown dark power, technicians of magic, clever in their ability to
work the solid form of what was an invisible force on Midkemia, but
without a strong intellect. They had been servants of others then, and
here again they were servants. Once more Pug confronted the knowledge
locked away in his own mind, and he intuited that these creatures were
serving whatever the greater power behind this madness might be. He
knew that to dwell further on their part in this would be to risk
distraction. He quietly stunned both creatures, letting them fall to
the floor. He quickly studied the rift to the demon realm, and realized
it was readily opened at any time. He decided Maarg, their great
ruler, was waiting safely in his own realm until his captain opened the
rift to Midkemia. Then he could easily cross into the lush,
life-filled world without long pause in Shila. Pug turned to study the
other rift with the thought that should Maarg reach "Midkemia, he might
be in for a rude surprise should Jakan reach the Lifestone. Screams of
pain and rage filled the hall as Tugor fought Hanam. The demon lord
was injured, because rather than keep his distance, the smaller demon
closed and accepted wounds in exchange for giving them. Pug tried to
ignore the combat, knowing seconds counted. He looked at the
"Midkemian rift and saw the Shangri were on the verge of punching
through whatever barriers had been erected on the other side. His
intervention had forestalled that.

Then a chilling presence behind Pug caused him to cease moving. A
voice that ground his bones together said, "What have we here?" Pug
turned and looked into the face of horror. A face the size of a
dragon's leered at him through the rift.

For a brief instant Pug was astonished to witness a rift that was as
transparent as a window, that looked like a hole in the wall between
two worlds, but that fascination lasted less than a second, for it was
what confronted him through that transparent rift that demanded his
undivided attention. While the other demons looked muscular and
powerful.4 Maarg looked gross. Jowls hung down from a face eight feet
from brow to chin. Fire burned in the pits of its eyes, and evil
emanated from it like a visible miasma of black smoke. The creature's
face seemed fashioned from the skins of living beings, which still
moved and twitched in agony. A face contorted in torment was stretched
across Maarg's right cheek, mouthing silent screams while a clawed hand
moved feebly along his right jawline. Details of the various bodies
devoured and incorporated into the Demon King became evident as the
creature moved closer to the other side of the rift to inspect Pug. The
figure behind the face was immense. Maarg must have stood thirty-five
feet tall when upright. His body was likewise covered with other
beings, twitching and undulating in the faint red light of the demon
home-world. Wings to hide the sun spread out behind him, and a long
tail with the head of a serpent at the tip writhed behind him, hissing
and spitting at Pug from over Maarg's shoulder. Pug didn't hesitate.

He knew instantly he was overmatched. He turned, and with all the power
he could muster, he blasted open the rift to Midkemia. rug or came the
cry from the other side of the demon

rift as the room rang with the explosion of powers Pug unleashed. The
rift to Midkemia seemed to contract, then expand, then rush forward
with a tremendous ripping sound. Then Pug was staring at Macros and
Miranda.

Macros returned from his bath and a meal.

"That was delightful. I
can't tell you how much I've missed Sorcerer's Isle." Miranda said,
"Has it changed much?"

"A great deal. Pug has it crawling with
students, some rather interesting ones, I must say. Gathis is the same
as always. It's as if I had left yesterday." Macros sighed.

"I'm
afraid he's become something of a fixture there. It would be a shame
to ask him to leave with all the good work he's doing for Pug. Why'
Suddenly he looked wide-eyed and distracted.

"What?" asked Miranda.

"I
don't know. Something Before he could finish, the silence in the cave
was shattered by a tremendous keening sound. Abruptly, the rift before
them ripped open and Pug stood on the other side of a window between
worlds, looking at them. Behind him a vision of horror reared up into
view. Miranda raised a mystic shield to protect herself, reflexively,
but her father reacted by leaping forward, landing on the other side of
the rift beside Pug. He unleashed a furious blast of mystic energy,
which tore through the opened rift into the demons' realm, striking the
Demon King in the face. The horror that was Maarg reared back,
shrieking in pain. Miranda followed her father and shouted, "What is
going on?" Pug said, "They've moved the rift. We arrived. just as
Maarg was preparing to come across!" Macros said, "You must close both
rifts, now!"

Pug looked at Miranda's father and said, "What are you going to do?"

"Distract that thing," he said, and he leaped through the rift into the
demon realm.

"Father." shouted Miranda.

"No!" Pug spared a glance to
the other struggle, and saw that Hanam had managed to sink his fangs
into Tugor's neck. Pug was no judge of such things, but it appeared to
him
the Loremaster might take his foe with him into death. The other demons
in the room shrank back, for to them there would emerge a victor, Tugor
whom they feared, or another who had destroyed Tugor, making him one to
fear even more. At the other side of the demon rift, Maarg fell back as
Macros's flames seared his face. Then he raised an arm, to shield his
face, and screamed in pain. Macros kept the blast of blue flame
directed at the Demon King's head. Pug quickly examined the rift. He
said, "This one is much like that created by the Tsurani Great Ones, to
reach Midkemia. It is vulnerable, from within' "From within?" said
Miranda in astonishment.

"How do we get inside a rift?" Pug looked
around it one last time, and said, "By attacking it from the void."

They risked a glance at Macros as he continued to press his attack
against the Demon King, who backed away. Perhaps it was that a
relatively small creature dared to confront him, or that he had not
been forced to face a challenger in years, but Maarg was on the
defensive. He now used his great wings as a cloak, keeping Macros's
flames from his eyes. Macros's spell ended, and the flames vanished.

Maarg regarded the intruder and reached forward, as if to seize Macros
in his huge hand. Macros raised both arms above his head and brought
them down in a quick gesture, and Yellow flames seemed to explode from
within his body. The

46I

I,

Demon King seized him around the waist, and screamed in pain and fury
as the sorcerer withstood his direct attack. Miranda said, "Can we help
him?" Pug said, "No. we must close this rift."

"We can't. Father will
be stranded in the demon realm. Pug caliay said, "He knew that."

Miranda stared at her lover a long moment, then nodded
once. Pug said, "We also may not survive this closure." Miranda said,
"Tell me what to do."

"First, keep them off our backs." He pointed to
two demons who had left the spectacle to investigate what was occurring
between the two rifts. Miranda said, "Gladly," and sent out a bolt of
mystic energy, a blue light that engulfed the two demons and left them
writhing in agony, while Pug finished his examination of the rift. Pug
turned his attention from the rift to the struggle beyond it, as the
Demon King attempted to crush Macros with his bare hands. The sorcerer
was held in the demon's grip, but he had his hands free, and he cast
another spell while the mystic yellow flames kept him from being
crushed. Sparkling white lights appeared around the Demon King and
started spinning. Each looked like a diamond, reflecting light off
myriad facets, and as they spun, they took on a sinister aspect. As
they moved, they swooped in and out in a weaving pattern, and when they
touched Maarg, he shrieked in agony.

"Kelton's knives," said Pug.

Miranda said, "That's a particularly nasty spell." The mystic blades
continued to pick up speed, buzzing around the Demon King, but while he
was being cut over most of his body, he still held fast to Macros.

"Human." he shrieked.

"You shall reside in a soul jar for eternity.

to be tormented every instant for this." Macros managed to shout,
"First you have to kill me."

Pug said, "It's time. Come with me." He took "Miranda's hand and they
jumped into the rift, but rather than continue through, he halted their
flight in
the void. Miranda waited to be told what to do. Pug had cautioned her
that some rifts could be closed only from inside, and that was what her
father and he had had to do during the Riftwar. The difference then
was that Pug had been able to return to Midkemia from the void because
of a staff Macros had given him, one that was linked with another that
Pug's old teacher, Kulgan, had kept tightly bound to Midkemian soil.

Pug prayed that his advanced skills over the last fifty years would
allow him to get home by force of will. Miranda's thoughts came to him
in the void. I love you. Pug replied, And I you. Let us begin. Cold
unlike anything Miranda had experienced gripped both of them. Their
lungs cried for air. But their magic gave them minutes where lesser
beings would have perished in seconds. Pug wove powerful magic.

Miranda aided him where she could, taking instructions from him, and in
this place without time it seemed to take forever for the great spell
to form. When it seemed the task would never finish, it was done. Pug
said, Now! Miranda gave him all her power and felt her body drain of
strength. Pug shattered the rift. In a moment they saw the grey fabric
of the void splinter into shards, and behind those shards they glimpsed
another reality. Pug recognized it from his fever dream, when injured,
and knew behind the void lay the realm of the gods. Then they saw, as
through a window, the struggle in the demon realm. Maarg gripped
Macros and burned in

flames that were running up his arms from the sorcerer, causing the
demon's flesh to ripple and crisp, but Maarg continued to crush
Macros's defenses, and the sorcerer screamed in pain as his will
weakened. The Demon King dropped to his knees, as the sorcerer's
attacks took their toll, but he refused to relinquish his grip on the
Black One.

"Diet' he roared, and he attempted to bite Macros's head
from his shoulders. But the legendary sorcerer's defenses held, and
the foot-long fangs couldn't close on Macros. Then the demon's tail
appeared over his shoulder and the serpent head hissed, revealing long,
poison-dripping fangs. The thing struck, but with an unbelievable
display of will and strength, Macros seized the thing and turned it so
that its fangs plunged into Maarg's wrist. The Demon King cried out and
released Macros, letting the sorcerer fall to the hot stone floor of
his den. Then the window seemed to close, to grow smaller or more
distant, they couldn't tell which. Miranda shouted, Father! Macros
seemed aware of them, stealing a glance in their direction. He sent
one thought, They are creatures of fire, then he redoubled his attack
on the demon, one that was met by more fury. As the window through
which they looked closed, a chilling presence appeared. Pug felt fear
beyond any he had known so far in his life, a fear that threatened to
break his concentration as he attempted to return them to Cibul. The
presence was outside the window through which they peered, and beyond
it, next to them, and a vast distance away. It was everywhere. It was
profoundly evil, and it was aware. Yet it seemed to be speaking from
within the rift, from the demon realm- The presence said, You are mine
at last! Macros shouted, "Never!" and before Pug and Miranda lost sight
of him, he raised his hands high over his head, and for the briefest
instant, instead of the plainly dressed
ii
sorcerer, dad in his familiar brown homespun robe with his whipcord
belt, his cross-gartered sandals, and his plain oak staff, a being of
profound wisdom and strength rose up, a godlike being of unknowable
mystery. He lashed out with a white ivory staff that appeared out of
the air, and, touching the Demon King, he created a blinding flash of
white light that filled the closing window. With the dying scream of
the Demon King, absent its rage and power, now the wailing cry of a
creature reduced to terror and pain, a triumphal sense of victory
washed over Pug and Miranda. Pug did not know how he knew, but in that
instant he felt the presence of Sarig, as Macros reached across space
and time and reconnected with his god. Then the rift was closed, and
Pug said, Now! Using what was left of his strength, he forced his way
through the very fabric of the void, dragging himself and Miranda back
to the hall of the Saaur in Cibul. For one brief moment, they witnessed
the finality of Hanam's battle with Tugor, as the two lay on the floor,
each too weak to best the other, neither able to escape. When it was
obvious that neither would survive, the remaining demons leaped atop
the two, rending them limb from limb. Remembering his promise, Pug
withdrew the soul vial he had been given, and smashed it upon the
stones. A brief thought came to Pug, Thank you! and then it was gone.

Miranda was half-stunned from the experience, and Pug had to almost
push her through the rift to Midkemia. On the other side, back in the
Pantathian mines under the Ratn'gari Mountains, Miranda sank down to
sit on the floor, her back against the cool rocks. Pug sat next to her,
his hands on his head, and he said, "We only have a moment. We must
close this rift." She said, "How?"

"This is different from the first. This must be closed the way one
would sew a wound." He sat a long moment, then took a deep breath. He
waved his hands, and faint energies left his fingers, snaking out
toward the rift. Around the edges they flew, and as Miranda found her
strength starting to return along with warmth, she saw Pug's energies
forming a lattice work around the edges of the rift. Then Pug changed
the spell, and the binding energies he had cast around the edges of the
rift began to contract. Miranda watched for a minute, then said, "I
see." She gathered together her strength, watching in fascination as
the rift closed slowly. While she rested she considered what she had
just witnessed. She had known her father briefly, having spent most of
her life tracing him through his legend. He had not visited her since
she had turned sixteen or seventeen, she couldn't remember which, and
she had spent most of her life holding the man in contempt. But as she
had discovered her mother's part in the destruction of hundreds of
thousands of lives, she reassessed her father's role in things. She
was discovering that even at her advanced age, she still felt like a
child in
some ways. She thought she would have grown to like her father, perhaps
even love him someday, but now that day would never come. For that she
felt regret. But for the loss of his life compared to the deaths of
thousands she had already seen, she couldn't find a means to compare;

perhaps someday she'd mourn him or at least mourn the loss of an
opportunity, later, when she had time. If she had time. Suddenly a
face appeared on the other side of the rift, looking like a cow's skull
stretched over with black hide, topped by a stag's rack of antlers.

Coals for eyes burned in it, and they regarded the two humans.

With a howl of glee the demon, obviously the final victor in the
carnage that had just finished in the great chamber in Cibul, flushed
with a feeding of tremendous scope, started to leap through the rift.

"Stop it!" shouted Pug, and Miranda lashed out with all her remaining
strength. It was enough to knock the demon back into the other world,
and stun it. Miranda almost fainted from the effort. In a hoarse voice
she said, "Hurry. I have nothing left."

Pug concentrated his entire focus on continuing to close the rift.

Miranda could see that as the rift became smaller the rate of closing
was accelerating. Then the demon was back, cautious in its approach. It
feinted toward the rift, then ducked back, pausing a moment. When no
further attack came from Miranda, it tried to climb through, much as a
human climbs through a window. First the creature's head poked through,
then one arm. It reached for Pug, but found him Still too far away.

The creature turned sideways, and started to put one leg through, but
found its large wings a hindrance. It shifted position, and tried
another angle, not noticing that the aperture was closing by the
second. Unable to pass, the creature became enraged with frustration,
and tried to force its way through the rift. A headlong dive managed
to get it wedged within the rift. Then pressure began to exert as Pug
continued closing the rift. Rage turned to panic, then to pain and
terror as the rift closed on the creature. Howling as it was being cut
in two, the demon thrashed like a fish on the deck of a boat. Miranda
took a breath, tried to add her energy to Pug's and felt the rift
closing even more quickly. The demon's cries echoed through the
Pantathian halls, resounding off the rocks and shaking the very
mountains.

Dust rained down on Miranda and Pug as the creature's thrashing
increased, then suddenly it went limp. A moment later, the rift
closed, and the upper half of the demon fell into the cave. Miranda
looked at it and said, "We did it?" Then she passed out. Pug said,
"Yes," and he too collapsed on the floor, unconscious as the last
reserve of his strength was paid out.

TWENTY-ONE

Escalation

Erik watched. In the fields below the foothills, a huge mobilization
was beginning. He had just enjoyed a week of relative calm, but now
that was obviously coming to an end. For a month they had been
relatively successful in forcing the invaders along the route they had
designed for them. There had been reports of hard fighting to the
north and south, but the Kingdom lines had held on both flanks as the
middle had slowly retreated, drawing the invaders after. Twice they had
come close to disaster, narrowly escaping along the retreat route, and
at each new position along the way fresh reserves were waiting. Erik
was still far from optimistic about the success of the plan, but he was
inching closer. Since the fall of Krondor they had regained a week of
the lost time; they had held here for ten days instead of seven. Now
they had to fight a delaying action as they withdrew, slowing the enemy
down by making them think there was going to be strong resistance in
Wilhelmsburg. If they could keep the enemy cautious, they might be
where they wished to be when the fighting reached Darkmoor. Every time
Erik thought of the plan to hold the enemy on this side of the
mountains, he wondered if they were going to be cursed with a late
winter. One advantage had been the arrival of a man named Robert
d'Lyes, a magician who had several useful spells.

He could send messages up the line quickly to. another magician who
was staying with Greylock, and he could tell what the weather was going
to be like the next day. He also could see "things better than a man
with a spyglass, though he could do go only for a limited duration; and
he lacked Erik's knowledge of what to look for, but he seemed to be
catching on. Other magicians were now scattered throughout the
defenders' army, helping in whatever fashion they could. For this Erik
was grateful. He didn't understand why the Pantathians were so
conspicuous by their absence. Eventually they would take a hand, and
when they did, Erik hoped the Kingdom magicians could counteract some
of their advantage. D'Lyes came to Erik's side and said, "General
Greylock wants to know if you expect an attack today." Erik said,
"Almost certainly." Erik glanced around. To the north the hills faded
quickly into the late-afternoon haze. They were entering the hilly
vineyards and groves he had known as a boy. To the uninitiated, the
terrain looked less severe than the low hills to the west, but it
wasn't. Unexpected ridges and gullies could trap an enemy, slowing an
advance. in the fervent hope this was going to be the case, Erik had
positioned his most seasoned soldiers in key locations to the limit of
his area. He would have to rely on Captain Subai and his Pathfinders
and Hadati what Greylock called "The Krondorian Mixed Command' to
hold beyond that point. To the south, Erik threw his larger contingent,
fresh replacements who were as yet untried. They would have an easier
time of it because of the terrain, but they were also less ready to
fight. Many of those carrying arms were town boys who had drilled less
than two months and had never smelled blood. Erik said, "Ask Greylock
to be ready to support me to the south. I think my north flank is
secure."

The magician closed his eyes, and his brow knitted in concentration; he
said, "The message is understood." Then he sat down, obviously dizzy.

"Are you all right?" asked Erik The magician nodded.

"It's just that I
don't usually do this sort of thing more than once or twice a month.

Once or twice a day is a bit much."

"Well, I'll try to keep message
traffic to a minimum." II He smiled.

"I just wish I had more like you
in a dozen locations."

The magician nodded.

"As long as we're useful."

"More than useful,"
said Erik.

"You may prove vital."

"Thank you," said the magician.

"I
am willing to help in whatever way I can." Erik waited, and as the
enemy staged below he found himself wondering aloud, "What is this,
then?"

"Captain?" asked the magician.

"Just curious. They are staging
for an assault, but it looks badly coordinated."

"How can you tell?"

Erik said, "This army we face is made up mostly of mercenaries: good
fighters individually, but possessing almost no skills for large-scale
fighting; they're used to winning by overwhelming whomever they face."

He pointed to a small patch of uniformed men with green banners flying
overhead.

"That's what's left of the regular army of Maharta, which
surrendered pretty much intact after the city fell. It's the only
trained heavy infantry they possess. The other soldiers on foot are
men whose horses were left behind or whose animals died along the way.

They're useless for anything except swarming over a breach." Erik
scratched his chin and felt four days' growth.

"I think I understand,
but I may not. Are you saying they should have placed their men in a
different arrangement?" asked the magician.

"Yes," said Erik.

"The
cavalry has to charge over hilly
terrain, while the heavy infantry is being directed at the most heavily
defended area of the line. The rest of the
army looks poised to charge right across open territory where our
catapults and archers will carve them up."

"I see." Erik grinned.

"You're being polite. Let's say that if I were on the other side, I'd
use my cavalry in the middle, to screen and deliver cover fire, while I
brought up my heavy infantry to attack just north of here." He pointed
to a problem point in his defensive line, a modest gully where he
hadn't had enough time or materiel to build a proper defensive
position.

"If I could punch through there, then that motley army down
there could pour through and wreak havoc."

"Let's hope they don't think
of it."

"They should," Erik said softly.

"What I can't fathom is why
they don't." Suddenly he said, "Send a message o Greylock-k, if you
can. Tell him I think this massing here is possibly a feint to get us
to concentrate our efforts, then spring an attack somewhere else along
the line." The magician smiled, though he looked fatigued.

"I'll try."

Erik didn't wait to see if the magician was successful, but sent
runners to the north, south, and east. After a few minutes, the
magician shook his head and said, "I'm sorry, but I just can't focus my
will anymore."

"You've done enough. We're pulling out tomorrow. I
think it would be wise if you started toward the next defensive
position to the cast. If you leave now, you should reach a safe camp
by sundown. Tell the quartermaster I authorized you be given a horse."

"I can't ride, Captain." Erik looked over his shoulder.

"Some sort of
magic means to move quickly?"

"No, I'm sorry to say." As trumpets blew
down at the bottom of the hill, Erik
said, "Then I suggest you start walking and get as far as you can on
foot. If you're not near a friendly campfire find someplace sheltered
to hunker down. Sometime in the morning the wagon carrying the wounded
will come past you; flag it down and get a ride. I'll pass word to
pick you up."

"Can't I stay?"

Another trumpet blew and Erik drew his sword.

"I wouldn't advise it."

As he turned away he said, "Now, if you'll excuse me." An arrow sped by
overhead, a wild shot from someone below who was overanxious. Erik
glanced over his shoulder and saw the magician running to the cast with
surprisingly renewed strength. Erik took the moment to indulge himself
in a chuckle at the sight, then turned his attention to the bloody work
ahead.

"All right," he shouted.

"Archers, pick your targets and wait
until I give the order." A familiar voice came from behind as Sergeant
Harper said, "Captain von Darkmoor, you're forgetting yourself. if you
don't mind, sir?" He turned and said, "First one of you mother lovers
who lets fly an arrow before I give the word's going to have to run
down there and fetch it back to me' Understood?" Erik smiled again. He
had never gotten the knack of being a proper bully sergeant and was
pleased to have men like Harper, Alfred, and the others under his
command. Then the enemy came.

Erik welcomed the darkness. The enemy was retreating down the
hillside, but had left his men in tatters. He had been wrong about the
feint. The only reason he still held his position had been the enemy's
ineptitude. They had charged straight up the hill into first the
withering missile fire of the Kingdom's archers, then a rain of the
short, soft iron spears Erik's commands had been training with since
he had first come to serve Calis. Hundreds of the enemy had died for
each yard traveled, and they had still reached only the first trench.

The defense had been a series of trenches and breastworks cut along the
contours of the hillsides, and whatever natural slope of the landscape
concentrated the attackers, there they found overlapping fields of
missile fire waiting for them. When the survivors of the first wave
reached the first breastwork, they found a highly banked, hard-packed
earthen barrier, studded with sharp wooden spikes. The spikes caused
little damage but forced the attackers to move slowly, making them easy
targets for the defenders. But they had come and kept coming. After
the first hour, Erik felt as if he would never be able to raise his
arms again, but still he had to fight on. During the fighting, someone
- a squire or town boy, he didn't know which had come by with a bucket
of water and handed him a tin ladle during a tiny lull. He had drunk
it quickly, handing the ladle back to the boy, and resumed fighting a
moment later. For what seemed an eternity, Erik fought, striking down
any head that appeared on the other side of the redoubt. Then the enemy
was fleeing, unwilling to continue pressing the attack as the sun began
to sink beyond the western horizon. Torches were lit, as much for
reassurance as for the need the twilight this time of year was
lengthy and those designated as hopitalers, local boys, old men and
women, and court squires and pages all started carrying water and
food to the living, then carrying away the wounded and dead. Erik
turned and sat where he had been fighting, ignoring the dead soldier
from Novindus who lay in the dirt next to him. When a boy with water
came by, Erik,took a single drink, passing along the rest of the water
to the men nearby.

Soon a runner arrived with a note. He opened and read it, then,
feeling so fatigued he didn't know if he could will himself to move, he
shouted, "Fall back." As if by magic, Sergeant Harper appeared.

"We're
pulling out, sir?"

"That's it."

"Then we're making for the next
defensive position?"

"We are." The wily old sergeant said,then we'll
not be seeing much sleep tonight, will we?" Erik said, "I expect not.

What is your point, Sergeant?"

"Oh, none, Captain. I just wanted to
make sure I under
stood everything." Erik fixed the sergeant with a baleful eye.

"I
think you understand just fine, Sergeant."

"Well, then, just so as it's
clear I'm not the one making lads who've spent a half-day fighting pick
up and move without a drop to drink or a bite to eat." Erik realized
the men were ready to drop.

"I think we can hold off, then, until
we've eaten."

"That's lovely, sir. It'll give us a bit of time to haul
away the dead and get the wounded out in the wagons. A wise choice,
sir." Erik sat down again. As Harper moved along, Erik said to
himself, "And I had the presumption to call myself a sergeant."

The withdrawal was more difficult than Erik would have liked. Despite
the food and rest for two hours, the men were still bone-tired when
they were turned to march to the east. Erik inventoried his assets and
realized he was beginning to see elements of those men he had trained
over the last two years, two companies of men who knew how to handle
themselves, who had arrived from a position to the north.

Word came down that the enemy had broken through up north, but the gap
had been closed. The bad news was that a contingent, numbering at
least three hundred, possibly more, was loose on the wrong side of this
current line of march. Erik sent his best scouts to the north, and
hoped that if the invaders were coming this way, they would blunder
into one of the heavier elements. Three hundred raiders could do quite
a bit of damage to one of the smaller companies on the march before
reinforcements could be summoned. Just before sunrise, Erik found a
solitary figure marching next to him, the magician Robert d'Lyes.

"Hello, magician."

"Hello, Captain. I found a small rock under which
to hide," he said with dry humor, 'but instead of a wagon I find an
army marching my way."

"I told you we were leaving,"Erik said dryly. "I
just didn't think we'd be leaving so quickly."

"So I see. How goes the
war?" Erik said, "I wish I knew. So far we've done well, but that last
attack showed me we're still seriously outmanned."

"Can you hold them?"

"We will," said Erik.

"We have no choice." Ahead they saw lights as
the village of Wilhelmsburg came into view. Entering the town they saw
that it was completely taken over as a military site. The townspeople
had been evacuated daysearlier, and Erik knew that once his men had
rested for a day, eaten and tended wounds, they would abandon this
town, after putting every building in it to the- torch. A small figure
ran toward Erik, shouting, "Captain von Darkmoor!" Erik recognized him,
despite the filth that clung to the tabard of a page of the royal court
in Krondor.

"Yes ... what is your name?"

"Samuel, sir. A lady asked
me to give this to you.~ Erik took the note and sent the boy on his
way. Erik

opened the note. Inside, in a simple handwriting, it said: "Gone to
Ravensburg to find your mother. I love you. Kitty." Erik felt relief
that Kitty had reached here safely and was probably now staying at the
Inn of the Pintail, where Erik had grown up. He turned to where the
exhausted magician stood and said, "Let's get something to eat."

"An
excellent idea," said the fatigued conjurer. They reached the Sign of
the Plowshare, the inn where he had first met Corporal Alfred and Roo's
cousin Duncan.

That caused Erik to wonder where his boyhood friend might be. Inside
the inn, they found the common room crowded. Half the floor was
littered with blankets, where a makeshift infirmary had been set up,
while the other half was jammed with starving soldiers, eating whatever
was being passed across the counter. A corporal whose name escaped Erik
said, "We've got some rooms upstairs for the officers, Captain. We'll
send up food."

"Thank you," said Erik. He led Robert up the stairs, and
when they got to the first room, he pushed open the door and found an
officer in the tabard of Ylith, sound asleep on a bare floor. Two
other men sat eating. They glanced over, and Erik waved at them in
apology and closed the door. He moved down to the next door and opened
it, finding the room empty. Inside were two simple mattresses, woolen
blankets sewn together and hay-stuffed, to Erik they looked inviting.

He struggled to get out of his boots, and by the time he did, the
corporal had arrived with two wooden bowls of hot stew and two large
mugs of ale. Suddenly fatigue was forgotten as Erik's mouth began to
water. As the corporal made to leave, Erik said, "Make sure someone
wakes me an hour before dawn."

"Yes, Captain."

Robert said, "I don't envy you an early morning after a day such as
you've just had."

"No need for you to envy anyone, magician. You're up
at first light. too."

"I suppose it's necessary.? "Yes, we need to be
out of this town before the enemy gets here. it's the difficult part
of this mission, keeping one jump ahead of this; foe. When they reach
Wilhelmsburg, they are to find only fire and ruin." Robert said, "Such
a -waste."

"It's more of a waste to give the enemy anything to aid them
on their march."

"I guess so." The magician ate a couple of spoonfuls
of food, then said, "Pug said things were dire, and while he wouldn't
be specific, he led us to believe that there's even more at risk than
the sovereignty of the Kingdom. Or is that an exaggeration?"

"I can't
say," replied Erik between bites of food. After he had swallowed a
healthy drink of ale, he said, "But let me put it that none of us can
afford a loss in this war. None of us." Robert sat back, resting
against the wall, with his feet stretched out.

"I'm not used to all
this walking."

"I offered you a horse."

"Truth to tell, they scare me."

Erik looked at the man, then laughed.

"I have spent my entire life
around them so you'll forgive me, but I find that funny." Robert
shrugged.

"Well, there are many who are frightened of magicians, so I
guess I can understand that." Erik nodded.

"There was a time when I
was a boy in Ravensburg when I would have been worried about you, if
not frightened, but I've seen enough over the last few years that I
choose to worry about things that I can face with a sword in my hand,
and let the gods, priests, and magicians worry about the rest."

"Wise man," said Robert with a sleepy smile.

"If you don't think it
overly rude," he said, putting down his bowl and mug, "I think I'll get
some sleep." Ills head barely touched the mattress before he was
snoring. Erik finished his ale and lay down, and it seemed only a
minute after he closed his eyes when he found the young corporal
shaking his shoulder, saying, "Captain, it's time to get up."

Roo motioned for everyone to stop. Luis was semiconscious , his feet
tied to the stirrups of one horse with the rope passed under the
animal so he wouldn't fall, as he hugged the animal's neck. His
wound was still seeping blood, and Roo knew he would not survive
another night without rest and better, care than they could provide on
the trail. Willem rode with his arms around little Helmut, while
Nataly rode with Abigail before her. Roo, Karli, and Helen led the
horses. They had left the cave the morning before, trying to find a
safe route to the northern road. Twice they had found themselves at
impassable points in the woods, and Roo had followed his plan of going
east when he couldn't go north, then turning north when he could no
longer go east. Only once had they found themselves blocked on the
north and east, and he had cast back to the west and found another
northern route. Roo had halted them because of the sound of riders,
some distance off, but close enough that he started looking for a place
to hide.

"Wait here," he said softly, handing the reins of the horse
he was leading, upon which Luis sat, to Helen. He drew his sword and
hurried off, looking for some elevation to give him a better view. He
found a rise to the east and climbed it, which led to another, and that
brought him to a relatively clear ridge. Sound was echoing, but when he
stood still for a moment, he could hear that the riders were to his
north.

"Dam," he said softly and hurried back to the others. The children had
fallen into silence, as they reacted to the obvious fear their parents
tried to hide. Roo said, "A large band of riders to the north."

"That
road you spoke of ?" asked Helen.yes, I think so."

"What do we do?"

said Karli.

"We go quietly, and slowly, and we hope those are Kingdom
cavalry." Karli was handling her terror far better than Roo would have
guessed. He admired her willingness to put aside her own fear to
protect her children. Roo glanced at Luis, who had lapsed into a
half-doze, barely able to sit upright. Perspiration ran from his face,
although the morning was cool, and Roo knew he had fever from his
wound.

"We've got to get Luis to a healer," Roo said, and Helen and
Karli both nodded. They set off slowly through the woods. A half-hour
later, Roo stopped. He glanced around a clearing and said, "I know
this place."

"Where are we?" Roo said, "Karli, this is where your
father, Erik, and I camped, the second night we traveled together. We
met him a half-day's ride to the eas tHe calculated.

"Damn. We got
turned around someplace, and were moving northwest instead of north.

We're not as far east as I hoped."

"Where are we?" asked Helen.

"Still
most of a day's ride to a road that will fork down to Wilhelmsburg."

Karli lowered her voice.

"Luis can't ride another day."

"I know," said
Roo, 'but we have no choice." He led them through the clearing, and
just a short distance to the north lay the road they had been seeking.

Hoof prints showed that the patrol Roo had heard had ridden this way.

He motioned to them to follow him down the road. The day passed without
incident. Near sundown they
left the woodlands and found an abandoned farm, a squat stone-and-log
affair with a sod roof.

"We can stay here tonight," said Roo.

"The
road that leads down to Wilhelmsburg is about another hour to the east
of here." They got Luis off the horse and into the house, laying him
gently on a straw pallet. Roo took the horses into the unoccupied
barn, un tacked them, and found some hay there, which he let them eat.

He knew from his training
with Erik and the others while in the army that if the hay was bad the
horses would colic and die, but from what he could tell, it still
looked edible. He closed the door and went to the little house. Helen
was looking at Luis's shoulder.

"We need to clean this," she said. Roo
looked around and found nothing.

"Let me see if there's a well." He
went out back and found the well, and there was still a bucket in it.

He pulled up fresh water, untied the bucket, and brought the water into
the house. Karli said, "I found this." She held out a small sack.

"Salt." Roo took it while Karli said, "It must have fallen to the floor
when whoever lived here fled." Roo said, "It might help."

"Can we have
a fire?" asked Willem. Roo said, "No. Even if we hide the flames from
sight, the smell of smoke could bring raiders." Helen lowered her
voice.

"If I can boil some water, I can clean his wounds." Roo said,
"I know." He held out the salt.

"Drink from the bucket, then when it's
half full pour the salt into the water. Bathe his wounds in that." He
glanced at his unconscious friend.

"It will hurt like hell, but I
don't think he'll notice. I'm going to try to find something for a
poultice." Roo left the hut and stayed close to the buildings, in case
someone might be coming along the road. He didn't want to take the
chance of being spotted. He hurried past
the barn and past the now empty fields, into the woods. He had seen
several mosses on the rocks the way they had come. Nakor had shown
them all how to make a poultice, and Roo wished he had paid closer
attention. But he thought he knew what to look for. After nearly an
hour's search, as night was falling, Roo found the spiderweb-like moss,
hugging tree trunks and rocks near a tiny stream. He gathered as much
as he could carry in two hands, then hurried back to the farmhouse.

Karli and Helen had gotten Luis's shirt off and had bathed the wound
with the salt water. Helen said, "He didn't move." Roo said, "That's
probably for the best." He studied his friend's face and saw it was
covered with perspiration. He also saw that the wound to his shoulder
had been caked over with dried blood, but now lay open.

"That needs to
be sewn closed." Karli said, "I have needles."

"What?" asked Roo. She
reached under her dress and said, "Needles are expensive and when we
left everything, I made sure my needles were safe." She tore a seam in
the hem of her dress and took out a tiny rolled piece of leather, which
had been lying alongside the seam. She unrolled it and presented Roo
with six finely tempered steel needles. Roo blinked.

"I'm pleased
sewing meant so much to you," he said.

"You wouldn't have any thread,
by chance, would you?" Helen said, "Threads are easy." She stood and
lifted the hem of her dress. She reached under and pulled down one of
her own underskirts, stepping out of it. With her teeth she worried a
seam, and when she was satisfied with the damage done, she began
unraveling threads.

"Now, how long do you think?"

"A foot and a halt'
said Roo. She took one of the needles and worked the tangle of
threads, pushing the one she wanted clear, then she took it between
thumb and forefinger and pulled. Roo expected it to break, but to his
surprise, it unraveled and she pulled out three feet of thread. She
bit at the hem, and yanked, and handed the linen thread to Roo.. Roo
said, "I wish I knew what I was doing." He allowed Helen to thread the
needle, then said, "One of you at his ~head, and one at his feet in
case he tries to move." > The two women obeyed, Helen gripping Luis's
legs while

Karli put her hands on his shoulders, being careful not to "touch the
wound. Roo began to sew.

Throughout the night, Luis lay in a fever. He awoke enough to take a
drink of water. Once they had to restrain him from attempting to
scratch off the poultice that Roo had put on his wound. Karli and Helen
sat in the corner, with the children gathered around them, sleeping the
best they could. Roo slept across the doorsill, sword in hand. In the
morning, Luis looked better.

"I think his fever's ~broken," said Roo.

"Should we move him?" asked Helen. Roo gritted his teeth.

"I don't
think we should, but we can't stay here. if those soldiers that rode
by yesterday -Were Kingdom cavalry, the enemy will be here sometime
today. If they were enemy soldiers, we're already behind the lines."

Luis's eyes opened, and he whispered, "I can ride."

"I wish we had
something to eat," said Karli.

"He needs it to regain his strength."

Roo said, "With luck we'll be in Wilhelmsburg by midday. We'll eat
until we pop." He grinned at the children, who tried to smile. They got
the horses saddled and, with a great deal of difficulty, managed to
help Luis into the saddle. Roo said, "Do you want me to tie you to the
irons again?"

"No," said Luis, blinking against the morning sunlight.

"I can
manage." He looked at his heavily bandaged shoulder and said, "What did
you do to my shoulder?"

"Salt water and a poultice," said Roo.

"How is
it?"

"It itches like nothing I've ever felt." Roo said, "I think
itching's good."

"Only if it's happening to someone else," said Luis.

Roo took the reins of his horse, and Luis gripped the horse's mane at
the withers. The children rode as they had before, and Roo led them
all down the road, eastward. Erik rode quickly through the town and
shouted, "Burn it!" Men at the western edge of Wilhelmsburg ran through
the town throwing torches. The larger stone buildings would be gutted,
for most had bales of hay placed inside, and the buildings with
thatched roofs caught quickly. By the time Erik reached the eastern
edge of the town, the western half was fully engulfed in flames. Erik
waited until all his men were out of the town, then said, "Let's move."

Since before sunrise, soldiers billeted at Wilhelmsburg had been moving
eastward, heading for a ridge line that they would defend for another
week if possible. Erik knew that as they moved closer to Darkmoor they
were going to encounter more towns like this one, Wolfsburg, Ravensburg
, Halle, and Gotsbus. All would provide close support, but all would
have to be torched before the defenders withdrew. Robert d'Lyes rode
over, obviously very uncomfortable on the horse Erik had secured for
him.

"How are you doing?" asked Erik.

"Only the thought of another day
walking in the heat convinces me this is a good idea, Erik smiled.

"She's a gentle animal. Don't saw on her mouth and pay attention, and
she'll take care of you. Remember to keep your heels down." Erik turned
and rode off, and the magician tried his best to keep up. Roo lay back
against the wall of the gully, his sword held close to his chest. The
despair had almost been overwhelming when they had reached a point down
the southern trail where they could see the smoke from Wilhelmsburg.

Roo didn't have to see the town to realize it had been put to the
torch. They had halted on the road, trying to decide what to do: risk
skirting the flaming town, trying to overtake the fleeing Kingdom Army,
or turn back north and take the less-used road into Ravensburg. While
they debated, a shout from across a large clearing told them they had
been spotted by horsemen. Roo took them into the woods at once,
hurrying the frightened group as best he could. He found a gully that
quickly deepened, turned to the north, then turned east again. He had
shooed them all along, and had doubled back, sword in hand. Luis had
followed, his dagger in his left hand. He was weak and disoriented,
but he was willing to fight. While Karli, Helen, and the children
huddled deep at the end of the gully, against a steep wall of rocks,
trying to keep the horses quiet, Roo and Luis waited just beyond the
first turn in the gully. Voices came from a short distance away, and
Roo recognized the speech as being from Novindus. Luis nodded, and his
thumb flexed along the hilt of his dagger. The sound of horses
approaching caused Roo to crouch, hugging the bank. The voices grew
louder.

"Some tracks in the mud. Look fresh." Captain."

"Keep it down. You want to send them to
ground?" The first rider came around the bend, looking backward
over his shoulder, saying, "When you pay me, you give me orders, you'
Roo sprang upward, striking straight into the exposed area under the
man's right arm. The sudden thrust stunned the man, and Roo ya'ed him
from his horse. The horse shied, moving up the gully, past Luis.

"What
did you say?" said the other rider. Roo saw a dagger at the fallen
man's belt and pulled it, tossing it toward Luis. For all his fatigue
and illness, Luis still managed to place his own dagger between his
teeth and caught the one tossed him without missing a beat. Luis
flipped the blade in the air, caught it by the point, and pulled it
back behind hisear and let fly with it just as the second rider came
around the bend.

"Hey. I asked' the man said just as the blade
caught him in the throat. He gurgled as Roo dragged him from the
saddle. Roo dumped the body next to the first one and with a swat sent
the horse after the one heading toward Karli, Helen, and the children.

Roo signaled and he and Luis headed back to where the others waited.

"They'll be here any second," said Roo.

"What do we do?" asked Karli.

Roo pointed to the rocks, a twelve-foot bank.

"We climb up there.

They can't follow." He didn't wait, but started scrambling up to the
top of the rocks. When he got up there, he could see glimpses of the
other riders through the trees, calling questions back and forth,
inquiring about the two missing men. Roo motioned for Willem to climb
up, and he held down his hands, so Helen, who was taller than Karli,
could hand up Helmut to him. The littlest child stuck out his lip as
if about to cry, and Roo said, "Please, baby, not now." As Roo took his
son into his arms, Helmut cut loose with a pitiful wail, as if all the
fear, hunger and fatigue he had endured for the last three days were
coming out at once. Luis turned and drew his dagger, for only a moment
later,

Helmut's cry was answered by the shouts of the horsemen. Abigail and
Nataly scrambled up the rocks, pushed by their mothers. Willem climbed
without aid. Luis looked up, perspiration running off his brow, and
said, "I can't make it." Roo said, "Climb! It's just a short way."

Luis had one good hand, and that shoulder was the damaged one. He
reached up, gritted his teeth, and pulled.

He found toeholds and took a deep breath. He let go and tried to push
himself upward, grabbing frantically with his good hand, his withered
right hand scraping uselessly off the rocks. Roo leaned over and
grabbed his wrist.

"I've got you." Roo felt his arms stretching as the
larger man hung like dead weight. Nearly out of breath, Luis said,
"Let me go. I can't do this."

"You'll do it, dam you!" said Roo,
yanking hard, though he knew he couldn't pull the man up by main force.

Luis tried to climb, making little progress, as two riders turned into
view.

"There they are." shouted one.

"Let me go." said Luis.

"Get
away."

"No." shouted Roo. To Helen and Karli he said, "Get the
children back into the trees." Roo pulled and Luis struggled, as a
rider came into close proximity, with a sword drawn.

"You the bastards
killed Mikwa and Tugon? We'll settle-~ An arrow lifted the rider
from his saddle and a second took the rider behind him out of his seat
as well. Strong arms reached past Roo and took Luis's wrist, lifting
him easily to the edge of the rocks. Roo turned and looked up into a
strange, alien, but handsome face. The elf smiled and said, "You
seemed troubled, stranger."

"You could say that," said Roo, leaning
back on his elbows. panting. Another elf appeared, shouldering his
longbow. Roo flexed his left arm and said, "I don't know how much
longer I could have held on.o

A man in a black tunic came to stand next to the elf and a familiar
grin split a dark face as he said, "If you aren't the sorriest-looking
jokers I've had the misfortune to see, man, I don't know Nothing." Luis
grinned and said.

"Jadow. Glad to see you." Then he fainted.

"What's
wrong with him?" asked Jadow Shati as he knelt next to his old
companion from the campaign down to Novindus. Roo said, "Shoulder.

He's got a wound and it's inflamed. Loss of blood, the usual
complaints."

"We can care for that," said the elf.

"But we had best
get you and your children away from here." Roo stood up and said,
"Rupert Avery." The elf said, "I'm Galain. I'm on my way to bring
messages to your General Greylock."

"General?" said Roo.

"Things have
changed."

"More than you know," said Jadow.

"Let's get some distance
between us and those other riders, and we can talk."

"How many of you
are there?" asked Roo as he walked behind Jadow and Galain.

"Six elves
from the Elf Queen's court. and a light company." Roo knew a light
company was ten squads of six men each.

"Where are they?"

"A half-mile
that way," said Jadow.

"Our friends here have remarkable hearing and
told us there was horses over here. so I thought we'd check things
out." He put his hand on Roo's shoulder.

"We're on our way to
Ravensburg. Care to come along?" Roo laughed.

"Thanks. We could do
with some company. Now, what do you have to eat?"

TWENTY-TWO

Ravensburg

Erik smiled. Kitty seemed to fly into his arms, barely giving him time
to dismount.

"I was so scared I'd never see you again," she said. He
kissed her and hugged her tight.

"Me too." Soldiers milled about the
stable yard of the Inn of the Pintail, and Nathan and Freida
approached. Freida hugged her son, then Nathan shook his hand.

"Congratulations," said Nathan with a grin.

"Made a Knight-Captain and
married."

Freida said, "Why didn't you send word? When this girl first came to
me I thought her mad, married to my boy." She fixed Kitty with a
dubious look.

"But after a while she told me enough to convince me she
knew you quite well." Then she smiled. Erik blushed.

"Well, things
were pretty confused and we had to act quickly."

"So she tells me,"
said Freida. Nathan said, "You look all in. Come inside and have a
bath and some food." Erik said, "I will, but first I have to start
getting people out of town. You're all going to have to be on the
march by the day after tomorrow."

"Leave?" asked Nathan Erik nodded.

"The enemy is no more than five days behind, perhaps as close as three,
and some of his cavalry
units may be closer. We'll defend the town for as long as we can after
you leave."

"Then?" asked Nathan. Erik looked down, almost ashamed to
answer.

"We'll have to burn it to the ground." Nathan went pale.

"Do
you know what you're doing?" Erik said, "I know. I've already put
Wilhelmsburg, Wolfsburg, and a half-dozen villages to the torch."

Nathan ran a hand over his leathery old face.

"I never thought I'd see
it again." Erik remembered he had lived through the sacking of the Far
Coast, years before.

"I can only tell you it's absolutely necessary."

A very tired-looking figure in a grey robe rode awkwardly into the
courtyard and pulled up next to Erik's horse. Robert d'Lyes got off
his horse, his trembling left knee barely able to support his weight as
he dismounted. He looked almost bowlegged as he turned to Erik.

"Do
you ever get used to this?" Erik smiled.

"Mother, Nathan, this is
Robert, and he's just learning how to ride." Nathan winced in sympathy.

"Come inside. I'll pour you some wine to case your discomfort."

Nathan signaled to Gunther, his apprentice, to take the magician's
horse. The boy ran over, smiled at Erik, and looked questioningly at
the former smith's mount. Erik said, "I'll be needing her for a while.

I'll be back later and then you can tend her for me." To Nathan he
said, "I'll be billeting men here and in every other inn in the town,
the Growers' and Vintners' Hall, and any other place I can find. So
expect a fair amount of shoeing and tack repair between now and when
you leave. You're the only man in Ravensburg besides our company smith
who can repair weapons and armor." He looked regretful as he said,
"Don't expect much sleep for a few days." Nathan shook his head and
said, "Come with me, Robert,

and I'll join you in a glass. I think I'm going to need it." Kitty
kissed Erik.

"Hurry back." Freida kissed him as well and whispered,
"She seems a fine girl, Erik, if a little odd at times." Erik grinned.

-You don't know the half of it. I'll be back for supper." As his
mother turned away, he said, "Any word of Roo?" She stopped.

"Two of
his wagons got here a couple of
days ago. I think they're over at Gaston's. But we haven't heard
anything of him. Why?"

"He was on the road, and ... it's been
difficult." Freida, who never had any use for Rupert but knew how close
her son was to him, nodded and said, "I'll say a prayer.o Erik smiled.

"Thank you, Mother." He remounted and headed back out into the town of
Ravensburg, to oversee the deployment of the men and get ready for the
destruction of the town in which he had lived most of his life.

Roo said, "How are you doing?" Luis said, "Better." He was riding
beside Roo and indeed looking better. From ahead, Jadow turned and said
to Roo, "Man considering that you almost killed him with that poultice,
he looks positively reborn."

"Well, I thought that was the moss Nakor
had showed us." The elves had removed Roo's concoction, found the
correct ingredients for a healing poultice and had re-dressed Luis's
wound. Jadow's soldiers had secured enough mounts from the raiders they
had killed so Roo, Luis, and the women could ride. The elves were all
on foot, so two of them led the horses with the children, while Karli
and Helen kept a close eye on their offspring. They had moved from the
scene of combat and made
camp. Jadow dispensed with the full entrenchment since the elves made
excellent outer sentries, and Jadow decided the extra two hours a day
of movement was more necessary than defensive security. Twice since
leaving that camp in the morning, they had reports of other companies
moving south: Kingdom forces to the east, and invaders to the west. It
was clear that they were heading straight toward the next battle. Roo
knew enough about the surrounding countryside to understand that after
Ravensburg the only town of size was Wolverton and the countryside
around that hamlet was not conducive to a stout defense. They would
hold for a while at Ravensburg, then fall back to Darkmoor.

"How far to
Ravensburg?" Jadow asked Roo. Roo said, "We'll be there in less than an
hour."

"Good," said Luis.

"I could use a taste of that wine you and
Erik used to brag on so often."

"You'll not be disappointed," said Roo.

Then he thought of a large portion of the Kingdom Army already being
in Ravensburg, and said, "Assuming there's any left when we get there."

Ten minutes later they approached the first Kingdom camp, located
behind a very defensible rise in the road. They hailed the guards and
were passed without question. As they rode along, they saw more and
more elements of the Kingdom Army digging in. Roo said, "Looks like
they're fighting along ten miles or so of front." Jadow pointed over
his shoulder, to the north.

"We've been turning them this way for
weeks. We left behind enough men to ensure they don't try to feint
this way, turn back, and break through north of us." Roo knew the local
terrain as well as anyone.

"Even if they get past you that way," he
said, 'they're still going to have to turn south when they try to climb
Nightmare Ridge."

"That's the plan," said Jadow.

49I

The closer they came to the town of Ravensburg, the more frantic the
activity. The road they traveled ran parallel to a low ridge line, a
series of interconnecting hills, that had been planted with grapevines
for years. Soldiers were cutting the large grape vines, some as big as
small trees, piling them, along with anything else they could find, to
form breastworks along the top of the ridge. While no winemaker, Roo
had spent enough time growing
up among them to know what a loss those vines would be. Some were
three hundred years old, rootstock that would be impossible to replace.

He noticed that workers were madly cutting vines, saving them for
grafts, in the hope they could someday return to these vineyards and
start over. Roo silently wished them luck. They reached Ravensburg in
mid-afternoon. Roo saw Erik supervising the establishment of a
barricade across the main road. He waved and Erik rode over.

"Roo!

Luis! Jadow!" said Erik, relief obvious on his face. Galain waited
until greetings were exchanged, and said, "Captain von Darkmoor?"

"Yes," said Erik.

"What can I do for you?" Galain produced a scroll
and handed it to him. Erik read it and said, "Good." He pointed toward
an inn across the square.

"If you'd like to eat, go there and tell
them I sent you."

"Thank you," said Galain. Erik looked at Karli,
Helen, and the children and said, "If you'd be so kind as to continue
leading those horses, I'd appreciate it." To Karli he said, "Tell my
mother I sent you and don't let her give the children too many sweets."

Karli smiled and a tear of relief ran down her cheeks, despite her
attempts to restrain it.

"Thank you," she said. As the two women and
four children were led away, M said to Luis, "What happened to your
shoulder?" Luis said.

"Long story. I'll tell you tonight."

Erik nodded. To Roo he said, "Why don't you go with your family and
we'll visit later. I still have a lot to do."

"Apparently," said Roo.

"Until later." They rode off and Erik accepted Jadow's mocking salute.

"Report, Sergeant."

"Yes, sir, Captain, sir." said Jadow with a grin.

"All right, that's enough."

"Anything you say, Captain sir." Erik
leaned over and said, "Would you like to be a corporal again,
Sergeant?"

"Don't tease me with promises you won't keep, you evil man.

Erik grinned.

"What have you seen?"

"There's a tough bastard up to the
north leading the enemy, named Duko, General Duko. He's staying put,
pounding at that little pass between Eggly and Tannerus. The Earl of
Pemberton and the Duke of Yabon both have heavy infantry dug in there,
with some Cortesian archers holding the higher ridges, keeping the
enemy down in the pass. They're tough little bastards and can pick
your teeth with their arrows. So most of Duko's men are just hitting
the barricades across the trail over and over. It's a bloody mess, a
regular grinder up there, but other than that, most of the enemy's
forces are heading this way."

"Any word on Fadawah?"

"None. Seems the
Lord High Bad Man is staying close to the Emerald Bitch." Jadow
scratched his chin.

"This is a pretty messed-up invasion, my friend,
if you see what I mean."

"I see exactly what you mean." Erik said, "Go
get some food and when your men are in billets, take a night of rest.

I want you and your company to pull back and see what you can do in the
next town, Wolverton. The enemy should come right through it, so see
if you can come up with some nasty surprises for them, so they might
slow down a little."

Jadow grinned.

"Nasty surprises are my specialty, Captain. I "When
you're done, get back here. I need you to supervise the flying company
on the northern flank." Erik saluted, and Jadow and his sixty men rode
off. Erik returned his attention to the matter at hand, but part of his
mind was preoccupied with his family, particularly with his young wife,
who was only a ten-minute ride
away.

The inn was crowded, so Milo, the innkeeper, put Roo, Karli, Helen
Jacoby, Erik and Kitty in the kitchen, all of them packed in around the
table used to prepare meals. The children had already been fed and sent
off to bed. Even without them things were so tight Kitty sat upon
Erik's knee, a condition neither seemed to mind much. Erik ate
hungrily, his first hot meal in days, and his mother's cooking to boot.

Milo had opened several bottles of his better wine and was pouring
rounds. Robert d'Lyes was bunking in with Gunther, Nathan's apprentice,
and Milo was at a loss over where he was going to put everyone. Freida
said, "The children can have our room for the night." Nathan said,
"Milo's got them upstairs."

"Not Roo's children, I mean Erik and his
wife." Erik blushed and Nathan laughed.

"He's hardly what I'd call a
child, clear." Freida said, "He's my boy, and that's little more than a
slip of a girl. Anyway, they need some privacy."

"Well," said Nathan,
"I'm going to be at the forge all night, anyway, so you're the one
who's going to have to find another place to sleep."

"I'll just throw a
quilt under this table and sleep here. I'll have to be up early, too,
for we've got hungry mouths to feed again." Erik knew that Nathan and
his mother lived in a small
building just outside the smithy, and while it had once been little
better than a dirty shed when Tyndal, Erik's first master, had lived
there, Nathan and his mother had turned it into a tidy little bedroom.

Milo said, "Erik, do we have to leave?" Erik nodded. 'first light, day
after tomorrow. A couple of days after that, we'll be fighting a
battle here. We have to hold them outside of town while the northern
and southern flanks withdraw. Then they hold while we pull back, and
if all goes according to plan, we break them at Darkmoor." Milo sighed.

"This inn is all I have." Erik nodded.

"I have some money. When this
war is over, I'll help you rebuild." Milo didn't seem convinced, but he
accepted that at face. Erik said, "How are Rosalyn and the baby?"

"Fine," said Milo, a pleased expression on his face.

"She and Randolph
had another, a boy they named after me!"

"Congratulations," said Erik.

"I sent word to them you were back, though how they could not know with
all these soldiers running around calling your name would be a mystery.

I'm a bit surprised they're not here yet." Erik said, "Well, Randolph
and his family have the bakery to dismantle and move."

"That's true.

Still, I expect they'll want to see you before they evacuate." Erik
said, "I need to talk to them." Kitty kissed his cheek.

"Talk to them
tomorrow." Erik grinned and blushed again.

"Very well," he said
softly. Then, looking around the table, he said, "Well, I've got to be
up early tomorrow." Everyone laughed. Erik's blush deepened, and he
took Kitty's hand and they left the kitchen. After they were gone,
Nathan said, "Roo, you've done well."

Roo blew out his cheeks in an exaggerated sign of relief and said, "Now
that I know I'm still alive, yes, I'd say I have." The others laughed,
and they began catching up with one another, letting the familiar
surroundings lull them into a momentary illusion that trouble was far
away.

At dawn the next day, Roo sat on the wagon box, his
wife at his side. In the bed of the wagon, Luis rode with Helen and
the children. Roo smiled as he asked, "See you soon?" Erik nodded,
astride his horse.

"But not for a while, if you're smart. By the time
I'm in Darkmoor, you should be halfway to Malac's Cross. Besides,
don't you have some estates or something in the East to keep you busy?"

Roo shrugged.

"I have enough to keep me afloat if we get through all
this. But in a funny way, I hate to miss what's coming." Erik grinned.

"No you don't." Roo grinned back.

"You're right. I'm taking the
children to someplace they can play and eat and get fat." Erik laughed.

"Then get out of here!" Roo had found that two of his wagons had made
it to Ravensburg. He did as he promised and paid the two drivers a
year's wages. He then let them go and turned one of the wagons over to
Milo and Nathan, keeping the other one for himself. Erik rode to the
second wagon. Milo and Nathan sat on the driver's seat, while Kitty,
Freida, Rosalyn, her husband, Randolph, and their sons, Gerd and Milo,
huddled in the back. Erik smiled at the older boy, who now clearly
resembled his true father, Stefan von Darkmoor. The boy sat in his
stepfather's arms, asking excited questions in his own two-year-old's
dialect of the King's Tongue, while his mother held the baby in her
arms. Erik said to Nathan,

"When you get to Darkmoor, find Owen Greylock. He'll find you a safe
place to stay." Kitty stood up and Erik moved his mount close enough to
the wagon so that he could embrace her. They held each other without)
speaking, then Erik let her go. Nathan flicked the reins and the horses
moved away, and Erik sat watching his life move from him. His mother;

her husband, who was a rare and wonderful man; Milo, who had been the
only thing remotely like a father in his boyhood; Rosalyn, as much a
sister to him as if his mother had given birth to her, and Gerd, his
nephew, though only a few knew that fact. And, most amazingly, Kitty,
a slender young girl who meant more to him than he would have imagined
possible before he met her. Erik watched until the wagon disappeared
into the frantic town. Other townspeople piled their belongings into
wagons, onto carts, or into bundles they would carry on their backs, in
preparation for abandoning their homes. Anything important to a
family's livelihood was being carried away: tools, seeds, cuttings from
the most productive vines, books and scrolls, inventory. Randolph's
family had managed to dismantle their bakery, salvaging every item of
hardware the iron doors to the stone ovens, the flat iron oven
bottoms and cooking racks and every other valuable item, leaving only
the empty stone ovens and some wooden cooling racks behind. Some
families had every belonging in their possession piled high atop
whatever cart or wagon they owned, while others grabbed only valuables,
abandoning years of accumulation furniture, clothing, and other
household goods, sacrificed in the name of speed. Some townspeople had
already left, driving small herds of sheep, goats, or cattle, or
carrying away chickens, ducks, and geese in wooden crates. Soldiers
hurried by, moving to positions determined months before Erik arrived
here. Erik put aside the feeling
of personal loss that gripped him, and turned his attention to the
defense of his home-town. He considered everything Greylock had ordered
him to do, and thanked the gods that the General and Captain Calis had
been so thorough. He knew that soon the most desperate fighting since
the fall of Krondor was about to resume. Everything Erik had read in
Knight-Marshal William's library had reinforced one thing overall: war
was fluid, unpredictable, and those who were best prepared for any
eventuality, able to seize opportunity, were the most likely to
survive. And that was exactly how Erik thought of it these days:

survival. Not victory, but simply enduring longer than the enemy. Let
them die first, was all he prayed for. And he knew that if any detail
of preparation eluded him it wouldn't be for lack of effort on his
part. Erik turned his horse and rode off to oversee the first line of
defense.

Men dug furiously, building up the breastwork across the pass west of
Ravensburg. Axes rang out in the afternoon as trees were felled. Erik
wiped his brow and glanced at the hot sun. Thoughts of snow were
difficult on a day like this. Yet he knew that in the mountains of his
home province, winter could arrive as soon as a month from now. But
his homegrown instincts told him this would probably be a late and
light winter. The look of the plant-life and the behavior of the wild
animals communicated to him silently that eight weeks or more would
pass before anything like a serious snowfall would occur, and three
months was possible. Erik remembered the one year he had been no more
than six when no snow to speak of fell through the entire winter,
only a slushy sleet and that passed quickly. Erik decided to stop
worrying about the weather and
concentrate his attention on things over which he had some control.

Two riders were heading his way, one from the south, the other from the
west. The rider from t e west reached him first, and saluted. 0 o~ f He
wore the garb f he Krondorian garrison, bloodstained and filthy. He
said, "Captain. We got jumped by a company of Saaur. The green
bastards cut us up before we could get organized." He glanced over his
shoulder, as if expecting to see the enemy come riding into view any
minute.

"They seem to resent what the Lancers did to them, so they go
looking for light cavalry and mounted infantry to punish. Anyway, I got
loose. I figure they're going to regroup with the advance units and be
here by sundown tomorrow or dawn the day after." Erik said, "Good. Go
into town and get some food and rest." He glanced around.

"I don't
think we're going to need any trailing scouts in the future, so report
in the morning to my first sergeant, a loud bully named Harper." Erik
smiled.

"He'll find you some work." As the first rider left, the
second reined in opposite Erik, and saluted. He wore the uniform of
the Pathfinders.

"We're getting a bit more pressure than anticipated,
Captain. I don't know how much longer we can maintain an orderly
withdrawal." Erik reviewed the troop disposition to the south.

"You
should be facing moderate pressure. What's happening?"

"I don't know,
sir, but the Earl of Landreth is in charge."

"What happened to Duke
Gregory?" The Duke of the Southern Marches, a court governor of the
Vale of Dreams, had been put in charge of the southern elements of the
retreat, coordinating his efforts with Greylock's defense of the
center. He had ample resources, given that the garrisons withdrawn
from Shamata and Landreth were under his command.

"Dead, sir. We
thought you knew. Messengers were dispatched last week."

Erik swore.

"They never reached General Greylock or myself." They had
assumed the invaders would keep a significant portion of their army
turned toward Kesh, in case the Empire sought to take advantage of the
confusion to enlarge their domain, but from what this soldier just
said, the southern wing of the defense was collapsing too quickly.

Erik said, "Ride into town, get a fresh horse, and
grab something to eat. I'm sending two companies of archers to give
you some help in the withdrawal." Erik reviewed the maps he had
memorized and said, "Suggest to the Earl he let the front to his south
collapse, pulling the soldiers on that flank around him, to his left as
he withdraws. Then have them dig in at the town of Pottersville. But
there he has to hold for another three days; four is better. By then
we'll be fighting here and we can't have them flanking us. If he can
keep them stationary for that long, he can start sliding northward
along the line, using the road to the town of Breonton. Once there, he
can turn tail and run to Darkmoor, but not before." The Pathfinder
nodded. With a tired smile, he said, "I assume you won't mind if these
suggestions originate with General Greylock?" Erik smiled and nodded.

"Of course. I wouldn't presume to order the Earl to do anything." The
' n he lost his smile.

"But we don't have time for you to run to
Darkmoor, have Owen tell you exactly the same thing I just did, then
run back down to the Earl. So if the Earl asks, tell him those are the
General's orders and I'll deal with any problems that might arise from
that deception down the road." The Pathfinder nodded.

"You know,
Captain, when we all get to Darkmoor. we're going to have a very mixed
command; a lot of the nobles aren't going to enjoy being told what to
do." Erik smiled.

"Well, that's why Prince Patrick plans on being
there."

"The Prince is in Darkmoor?"

"That's the word. Now, get something to eat, then get back down to the
Earl of Landreth." The Pathfinder saluted and rode off. Erik looked at
the trees being dragged over to fortify the barrier across the King's
Highway. ~)two large ridges overlooked the position, and while Erik
watched, crews of mule skinners were hauling catapults up goat trails
to emplacements that had been hand-carved out of the rocks. Any
congestion along the highway on the enemy's part would result in high
casualties. Erik nodded in approval. He was going to get more draft
animals out in the next hour to drag away the stumps and would turn the
men to that task as soon as the last tree was felled. The enemy
weren't going to have any cover as they approached Ravensburg if Erik
von Darkmoor had any say in the matter.

Twice skirmishers had neared the defenses outside Ravensburg, and at
the last minute, darted away, returning to the west. Erik waited on
the second crest of the highway, high enough to command a panorama of
the center of the battlefield, and close enough to send messages
quickly to the front. Word had reached them an hour before that heavy
fighting was under way at both the south and north ends of his ten-mile
defense. Those were the two most difficult trouble spots, for
everything depended upon them holding, forcing the enemy to slide along
conveniently provided routes, down into the center, where Erik could
let them spend lives trying to punch through. When he finally gave the
order to withdraw, those northern and southern units were to cut off
any engagements, if possible, and hurry to Darkmoor. Erik would try to
give them one additional full day, then it would become a full retreat,
without any pretense of a delaying action. Owen and Erik had considered
Calis's original plan and
modified it; Calis had wanted another delaying action, while Erik had
argued, and convinced Owen, that the enemy were so conditioned to have
the center delay that they would be cautious when the defenders
abandoned Ravensburg, giving Erik the time he needed to get as many men
away as possible. Erik was positive that each man not lost in a
delaying action was going to he twice as valuable to the Kingdom in the
defense of Darkmoor. Now they waited. Swords, spears, and arrows were
sharpened, traps were readied, horses were rested. Men
sat quietly, some inspecting their armor and weapons again and again,
against the possibility of having missed some flaw that might prove
fatal. Others waited motionlessly, a few slept, and others said
prayers to Tith-Onanka to keep them courageous, while still others made
peace with the Death Goddess, against the time of their meeting her.

Erik watched, reviewing every preparation over and over, looking for
mistakes, miscalculations, and potential problems. Signalmen stood
beside him, flags ready, to relay commands to those units on the ridges
to the north and south. The chosen field of battle was a small, flat
expanse of ground, nestled between a narrowing in the hills, a funnel
along the King's Highway, and the first line of defense was a
low-running ridge with a notch through which the road passed. That was
the point where Erik had erected the first barricade. A log rampart
had been thrown across the road, giving Erik an almost level battlement
from the ridge lines on the right and left. The enemy might attempt to
scale the rocks on either side, but Erik counted on the placement of
his bowmen to repulse them. The battlement had been created to look
haphazard and quickly erected, but it wasn't. Erik was counting on the
enemy's underestimating the defenders' ability to hold against an
all-out rush. The day passed slowly. Then the sound of enemy riders
came from the other side of the clearing. A dozen horsemen emerged at
the highest point of the King's Highway, the last rise on the west
before reaching the cleared battleground. They reined in and sat
silently, observing the defenders. one man, the leader, spoke, and two
of the riders turned back the way they had come and rode off. Then the
leader signaled toward the defenders' barricade, and two of his men
cantered their horses forward. Erik said, "Pass the word; if they come
within twenty yards of the barricade, they die. If they stay beyond
that distance, they can ride their horses into the ground for all I
care." A long narrow trench had been dug before the barricade and
carefully concealed. Erik did not want it inspected by the enemy's
scouts, but he had no objection to their returning and telling their
leaders the way was clear. The runner saluted and raced off toward the
barricade, reaching it and passing the orders. At the farthest reach
of the defenders' bow fire both riders swerved off the road, turning in
a quick loop, waiting for the defenders to fire on them. When not one
arrow sped in their direction, they came to a stop on the road. Both
men turned and looked at their leader. The man signaled, and one
signaled in return. The two riders left the highway, moving to the
verge of the road, one on each side. They walked their horses along,
slowly.

"The lads are looking for traps," came the familiar voice of
Sergeant Harper.

"Clever of them." Erik hadn't noticed Harper's
appearance, so focused was he on the two riders.

"Everything ready?"

Harper said, "As it has been for hours. What are we going to do about
those two?"

"Nothing. Let them think we're saving our arrows for the
first assault."

"What if they get too close to the trench?"

"Then they're dead. I've already passed the word." Harper nodded his
approval.

"It'll be good to hold here a bit and bloody the bastards.

All this running backward tires a body."

"There's going to be nothing
good about any of what's about to happen, Sergeant."

"That's what I meant, Captain; I'm just putting it in a different way."

Erik shook his head and smiled.

"Well if you're so ready to be cutting
heads, maybe I should move you to the front."

"Well, let's not be doing
anything so rash," Harper said quickly.

"I expect there'll be enough
fighting to go around, this day."

"I expect," agreed Erik. The advance
riders moved along the road, and finally, when they were only a few
yards shy of the point where Erik had ordered them killed, they turned
and, rode quickly back to their leader. The riders then sat
motionless, waiting for the column of men who were coming down that
road. After most of the day had passed, the sound of marching feet
began to reverberate from the west. At first faint, the sound began to
increase, until at last Harper said, "Sounds like they're bringing the
whole lot this time, Captain."

"That it does," said Erik. At the other
end of the road, where the riders waited, the woods were thick on both
sides of the King's Highway. The sound of the approaching army grew
louder, but no soldiers could be seen. Then, suddenly, men emerged from
the woods, an unbroken line of men with shields. wielding battle-axes,
swords, spears, and bows. They marched to a point half the distance
between the line of trees and the defenders, then halted.

"What have we
here?" asked Harper softly.

"Looks like they've learned a few things since they've landed," said
Erik.

"If they send the infantry first, we're going to lose some
advantages." Since the time when Calis's company had served with the
Emerald Queen's forces, the usual tactic had been for them to simply
unleash their cavalry at any defensive position when able. Infantry
was saved for sieges and for flooding gaps in the defenders' lines.

Erik cursed.

"I thought we could steal a day having their cavalry
getting themselves butchered." Harper said, "Don't give up hope yet,
Captain. They may do something rash still." A column of riders crested
the distant hill, moving down the road to halt slightly beyond the
infantry. Then they waited. Officers rode into view, moving each to a
location, along the line, stationed before their men. Still they held
position.

"If the riders come down the road, while the infantry cross
the clearing, it could get interesting," observed Harper. Erik said
nothing. More riders appeared at the crest, then a trumpet sounded,
three short blasts. With a roar, the assembled footmen started running
across the clearing.

"Signal to catapults," Erik said. He raised his
hand, a motion duplicated by the signalman holding a red flag. Erik
watched as the attackers raced toward his defenses. He had studied this
terrain so well he could gauge the distances without markers. When the
leading edge of the attackers reached the outer range of the catapults,
he paused, then dropped his hand. The flag went down an instant later,
and then the well-disguised war engines atop the second ridge let fly.

A shower of stones, ranging from one the size of a man's fist to some
the size of a large melon, rained down on the attackers. Men screamed
and fell, dead or wounded, with
broken bones. Those behind could not halt, and some of the wounded
were trampled to death by their own comrades. As if the rocks had been
a signal, the cavalry charged down the King's Highway.

"They mean to
be here before the catapults reload," observed Harper.

"Black signal."

shouted Erik, holding up his hand again. A second flag went up, and
when the charging horsemen reached the appropriate range, Erik's hand
came down. The black flag dropped, and another round of missiles
rained down. Horses screamed and men were thrown as the second company
of catapults unleashed its rain of death upon the invaders.

"Green
flag!" shouted Erik, and the third flag went up. When it came down, two
special catapults called mangonels, large counterbalanced beams of wood
with huge baskets on the long end, flung a rain of caltrops: metal
stars with six sharpened points. Those that didn't strike an attacker
landed on the ground, with one point always up. Men and horses both
stepped on the terrible spikes, which lamed the horses and felled men.

By the time the attackers worked through the mass of wounded in the
front ranks, the first company of war engines had been reloaded and
were launching their missiles. And by the time the third green flag
had been raised and fell, the entire attacking front was broken and in
retreat. Hundreds of men and horses lay in the late-afternoon sun, and
not one Kingdom soldier had been wounded. Erik turned to a grinning
Harper and said, "Get the perimeter companies out and start looking for
their infiltrators. They'll want those catapults out of action by
tomorrow, so expect a lot of unwelcome visitors in the hills tonight."

Harper said, "Sir." and turned to carry out his orders. Erik watched
the withdrawal and thought they had gotten off as lightly as possible
for the first day. He also
knew that, starting tomorrow, things would get considerably more
difficult.

Dying men groaned in pain, begged for water, or -cried. Some called to
their gods, or their mothers, or wives, while others could not speak.

Erik watched the carnage as the sun sank behind the western hills. He
had been correct in his prediction that the invaders would avoid
another confrontation before attempting to neutralize the defenders'
catapults. Bands of infiltrators probed through the night, being met
at every possible point by alert defensive resistance, with Jadow's men
acting as a flying company, to reinforce any breech, on the north, and
another company under a corporal named Wallis did the same on the
south. At dawn it was clear the attackers had tired of trying to find a
weak spot, and had decided to simply throw men at the defenders. Erik
watched as four times during the day thousands of invaders ran across
the battlefield, the Funnel, as Erik thought of it, to die under the
devastating fire of the defenders. Harper said, "Sir, will they ask for
truce to give comfort to their wounded?" Erik said, "No. It's not
their way. Their wounded only slow them down."

"It's a bitter thing,
then. So we'll have no truce to retrieve our lads on some future
occasion?"

"No," said Erik.

"My advice if you are wounded is to act
dead and hope they don't spare any time to ensure you are. Then crawl
off somewhere after they've passed."

"I'll remember that, sir." Erik
watched as three companies of defenders had actually reached the
barricades on the last assault, and while none of his men died, several
had taken wounds as they killed those who tried to climb over the
barricade. The attackers had found all of Erik's traps the hard way.

Pits with stakes and the cleverly disguised trench just below the
defensive breastwork had claimed scores of attackers, but now the route
was clearly marked. Erik judged the light and thought they might try
one more attack before sundown. He prayed they didn't. He had planned
to fall back under cover of darkness to the secondary defensive
position, a well-placed second barricade that would put the attackers
in the clear line of Erik's bowmen as they
climbed over the first barricade, and turn the fifty yards of open
space between the two lines into a killing ground. If he could hold
here another night, then keep them away for one more day after that, he
felt sure those fleeing toward Darkmoor would be safely away. Patrols
were riding along the eastern slopes of the hills, ensuring no small
companies of invaders had somehow slipped through to trouble the
defenders from behind. Erik knew that, yet he feared some unnamed
surprise would come to put an end to all his clever planning. Trumpets
sounded and Erik said, "Damn! I was hoping they'd give it a rest."

"Not likely, sir," said Harper, pulling his sword, a large
hand-and-a-half affair, which he preferred to the broadsword and shield
used by most of the men. From out of the trees across the field men
ran, shouting and exhorting their fellows to get close to the defense
and breach it. Erik started giving signals, and the catapults and
mangonels dispensed death to the attackers, and then the archers let
their bows sing. But this time the attack rolled forward. When the
first few men struck the barricade, and died trying to climb, Erik
could see more men emerging from the woods, entering the Funnel, and he
knew that whoever commanded on the opposite side was throwing
everything at him. Erik pulled his own sword and said, "Sergeant,
order the support companies to the ready. I want them right behind our
men on the barricade."

"Sir," said Harper, and started shouting orders. Three squadseach, the
support companies numbered one hundred and eighty men, under the
direction of a sergeant whose job was to recognize a breach and fill it
as quickly as possible. The value of the zone between the two
defensive barricades would be lost if defenders were mixed in with the
attackers; the archers on the rocks above and on the second barricade
would not be able to safely fire into the killing ground. Erik saw a
plumed helmet, a captain in the Emerald Queen's army, who was trying to
force himself past a determined attacker who was keeping the defender
before him busy. Erik was about to order the archers to pick off the
officer, but someone on the ridge above had seen him and sent an arrow
flying before Erik could speak. The battle raged along the barricade,
and Erik felt frustrated standing on the second ridge, sword in hand,
knowing that if he fought, the advantage was lost. Remembering he was
now an officer, in command of the area, he put away his sword and
watched. As the sun sank out of sight, the fight at the barricade
remained in balance, attackers swarming across the Funnel to replace
men who had fallen. Messages arrived from both flanks, indicating the
fighting was uniformly fierce at both ends of the line, but that all
sections were holding. When the western sky began to darken, Erik
waited for the recall trumpet to sound, but it didn't come. As
darkness approached, torches appeared in the west and soldiers ran
toward them carrying illumination to continue the fight into the
darkness.

"Damn," said Harper, 'they're not about to go away, are
they?"

"Apparently not," said Erik. He calculated he had to make a
choice now, either beginning the withdrawal, losing the ability to
cover the retreat across the killing ground, but getting most of his
men to the second barricade, which

I I

was almost certain to hold through the night, or continuing to fight
and trying to hold them until they withdrew. If they were victorious,
it would be a major victory, one that would hold the enemy here in
Ravensburg for at least a week more. But if they collapsed and the
invaders overran the second barrier before the Kingdom troops could
fall bathe results could be disastrous for the Kingdom. Erik hesitated.

For the first time since he had returned
to Ravensburg, he cursed Calis for being absent. He or Greylock should
have to make this decision, not a young soldier who had only read about
these sorts of problems in books. Harper had his sword ready.

"What
are we to do, sir?" Erik's mind raced. He needed an inspiration and a
way to get his men back to the second barricade by sunrise, without
letting the enemy follow. Harper said, "Maybe a few of those lads will
trip over something and set fire to themselves." Erik's eyes widened.

"Harper, you're a genius!"

"I know, sir, but that still doesn't tell us
what we're to do."

"Charge," said Erik.

"Bring up every man we have to
the barricades and hold them until sunrise."

"Very well, sir." Harper
turned 'and began shouting orders, and men held in reserve were
suddenly tumbling over the second barricade and hurrying to reinforce
the first. Erik said, "Now things get easy."

"If you say so, sir," said
Harper.

"Do we stand here or join the fight?" Eric pulled his sword.

"We fight." The two men ran forward.

TWENTY-THREE

Retreat

Erik shouted. ~.. It was a mindless howl of agony and fatigue,
serving only to focus the rage he needed to continue the struggle. It
was an animal sound, without meaning. It was a sound repeated
throughout the night by thousands of men. For the first time since the
fall of Krondor, the main elements of the invaders' army were locked in
battle with the Kingdom. Throughout the night the wave of attackers
had continued unabated. As dawn hinted in the east, where the sky had
softened from its funereal blackness to a dull grey, men had struggled
to control a dozen yards of ground. The dead were piled high on both
sides of the barricade, where Erik and Harper stood like anchors in a
storm. Three times in the night there had been lulls, when water
buckets had come to them, and when young boys from the baggage company
could haul away the wounded, dying, and dead. But most of the night
had been filled with grueling butchery, with little skill, a simple
raising and lowering of the blade, much as when Erik had hammered
steel. Yet even steel yielded eventually to the smith's hammer. But
this sea of flesh, this never-ending supply of bodies willing to be
cleaved and sundered, would not stop. In a moment of lucidity, after
striking down another man attempting to climb the barricade, Erik
glanced to the rear. Dawn was less than two hours away. To Harper he
gasped, "Hold them here for a few more minutes."

Harper only grunted in reply as Erik stepped away from the fighting.

He stumbled a few feet farther, and his legs went out from under him.

He scrambled upright and saw had slipped on a man's leg. Where the
rest of the man as, Erik couldn't see. He was thankful for the
darkness. He knew that when ~the sun rose, th carnage would be
unspeakable. The worst slaughterhouse in the Kingdom would appear a
clean white room for milady's sewing compared to what the two armies
had done that night. A messenger boy waited nearby with a bucket of
water. Erik fell to his knees and picked up the bucket, pouring it over
his face, his mouth hanging open. The water ran down his parched
throat, reviving him. When he had finished, he told the boy, "Run to
the rear and find Lieutenant Hammond. Do you know him?" The boy
nodded.

"He's with the reserve company. Tell him I need him now. And
tell him to bring torches. And oil if there's any." Erik rose on legs
so heavy he could barely lift them, yet when he returned to Harper's
side, he found instinct and training driving him onward, filling him
with a fire to fight, to kill the enemy, and to survive. Time was
suspended, just another series of savage sword blows, repeated over and
over. Sometime during the night Erik had lost his shield, and now he
grasped his sword with both hands in imitation of Harper's mighty
slices. Those who tried to duck inside the long sword's reach were
greeted with a kick to the face, or a downward slash, breaking spines
and lopping off heads. Suddenly a voice at Erik's rear shouted,
"Hammond, sir. What are the orders?" Erik glanced over his shoulder and
almost died for the effort. Only a glint in his peripheral vision
caused him to dodge the sword point aimed for his side. He slashed
backward with his sword and felt it strike, hearing the

5I2

sound of crushing bone at the same instant. A man screamed. Erik
moved back from the fighting and said to Hammond, "Did you bring oil?"

"We have a dozen casks, no more."

"Light the barricade!" he ordered,
and then he said to Sergeant Harper, "As soon as the flames take, I
want a full withdrawal."

"Sir," said Harper as he cut a man deep enough
along the chest that Erik could see the whiteness of his ribs. Behind
them men moved and Erik could smell the fumes as men poured oil around
the base of the barricade.

"Ready?" came the voice of Lieutenant
Hammond.

"Yes." shouted Erik as he killed another man. Harper's bellow
carried above the sound of battle as he cried out, "Withdraw."

Trumpeters blew the retreat, and as Erik and the others stepped away
from the barricades, dozens of torches were stuck into the wood. Those
invaders coming over the barricade were either burned as the flames
quickly spread or were trapped on the wrong side of the fire and
quickly killed by the soldiers of the King. Half staggering, half
running, the exhausted defenders made their way to the second
barricade. Water and food waited there. Those men who could drank and
ate, while those too tired to move just dropped down where they were.

A few fainted from the effort, while others closed their eyes, grasping
at the chance to sleep, if only for a few minutes. Other men moved
along the barricade, guarding against the possibility of the enemy
somehow following closely, but as the fire rose along the first
barricade, it was clear no one was crossing over that burning mass for
at least the next hour. Harper said, "Tis right daft you are, Captain,
sir, but it was a hell of a notion." Erik sat upright, his back against
the barricade. He finished drinking his third ladle of water and
accepted a
opw"

wet cloth, which he used to wipe the dirt, sweat, and blood from his
face and hands.

"Thank you, Sergeant. It gains us an hour's respite,
and gives us an open killing ground." He glanced at the east, where the
sun would soon be visible
above the mountains, and said, "If we can hold here for this day and
tonight, we should be able to get safely to Darkmoor with most of the
men." Erik stood and shouted for a runner.

"Find another of your
company," Erik ordered the youth.

"I want orders sent to the north and
the south that the time to fall back will come soon. Tell both flank
commanders that once they see the enemy moving toward the center, I
want a show of offense make it look like a counterattack, then as
soon as the enemy is moving away from those positions, they're to move
with all speed to Ravensburg." The runner sped off. Erik sank back down
behind the barricade and said, "I need some sleep."

"You should have an
hour, sir," said Harper, watching the distant fire. When there was no
answer, he turned to see Erik's eyes already closed.

"That's a capital
idea, sir," said the exhausted sergeant. He hailed a reserve soldier
and said,."I'm grabbing a bit of sleep, so be a good lad and keep an
eye on things for the captain and me, all right?" Without waiting for
an answer, Harper slumped down next to Erik and was asleep before his
chin touched his chest. Elsewhere along the line, men who had fought
all night also tried to rest, while the reserves kept vigil across the
burning barricade.

Pug groaned. Miranda said, "Hold still' He lay on a table covered with
a fresh white cloth while she massaged his back.

"Stop acting like a
baby," she scolded. Pug said, "It hurts."

5I4

"Of course it hurts" she responded.

"You get burned to a crisp by a
demon then as soon as you can, you go find another demon to battle."

"Seven of them, actually," Pug said. She straddled his back, massaging
him as they rested after their ordeal.

"Well, you've got one left to
deal with, and you're not even going to think about it until you're
fit."

"We don't have that much time," Pug said.

"Tomas should be in
Sethanon soon, and unless there are more surprises, I think he should
be able to deal with this Jakan." Pug said, "I don't know. What little
I witnessed when your father fought Maarg, and what I remember when
Jakan attacked me, leads me to believe we should all be at Sethanon
when the demon finally reaches there." Miranda got off his back, and
Pug admired her long legs, shown to advantage by a short Quegan-style
skirt. He sat up and stretched.

"That felt great."

"Good," she
replied.

"Let'seat. I'm starved." They left the room in Villa Beata,
Pug's home on Sorcerer's Isle , and retired to the dining room. A
servant, a Ji-kora reality master, appeared. The creature looked like
a large upright walking toad. A year earlier he had appeared unbidden
and begged entrance into Pug's school, and Pug had agreed. Like the
other students on Sorcerer's Isle, he gave service in exchange for his
studies.

"You eat?" he asked.

"Please," said Pug, and the ugly
creature stalked off toward the kitchen. The midday meal was pleasant,
as it had been each day since they had returned from the Pantathian
mmes. Though it had been only a week, it felt like ages since they had
awakened in darkness, disoriented and exhausted. It had taken all of
Miranda's energy for her to create a mystic light, by which to see. The
bisected demon had started to rot, so they assumed

5I5

they had been in a stupor for at least two or three days. Pug used his
last reserves of energy to transport them to Sorcerer's Isle, where
Gathis had immediately seen to their needs. They had been carried to
their room and put to bed, where they slept for another day. Upon
rising they had eaten, returned to bed, and slept the day through
again.

It had now been over a week since their return, and Pug felt as if he
were getting close to his old strength back. Gathis approached as they
finished their meal and said, "May I have a word with you?" Miranda
rose.

"I'll leave you alone."

"No, please," said the goblin like
creature.

"This concerns you as well, Mistress." She sat down. Gathis
said, "As I once told you, I shared a bond with the Black One' looking
at Miranda, he said to her 'your father, Mistress." She nodded. To
Pug, Gathis said, "When Macros last left Midkemia, at the end of the
Riftwar, I told you I would know if he should die." Pug said, "You
think he is dead?" Gathis said, "I know he is dead." Pug glanced at
Miranda, whose face was an unreadable mask. Pug said to Gathis, "Of
all of us, you knew him best. The loss must be difficult for you. I am
sorry."

"Your commiserations are appreciated, Master Pug, but I think
you misread me." He motioned for them to follow.

"There is something I
need to show the two of you." They rose and followed him down a long
hall. He led them outside, across the meadow that rolled away from the
rear of the large house, and up a gentle rise to a phiin hillside.

When they were halfway up the rise, Gathis moved his hands and a cave
was revealed. Pug said, "What is this place?"

"You shall see, Master
Pug," said Gathis, leading them into the cave.

Inside the cave they saw a small altar, upon which rested an icon. The
image was of a man sitting atop a throne, a man familiar to both Pug
and Miranda.

"Father," said Miranda.

"No," said Pug, "Salig." Gathis
nodded.

"It is indeed the lost God of Magic."

"What is this place?"

asked Miranda.

"A shrine," Gathis said.

"When the Black One found me,
I was the last of a race that had once lived in a position of some
importance in our world."

"You said you were related to goblins in the
way the elves are akin to the moredhel," said Pug.

"That's an
oversimplification. Elves and Dark Brothers are the same race, taken
to different paths. My people, while distant kin to the goblins, were
far more than that. We were a race of scholars and teachers, artists
and musicians."

"What happened?" asked Miranda.

"The Chaos Wars lasted
for centuries. To the minds of the gods they were nearly
instantaneous, but to lesser beings they lasted for generations.

"Humans, goblins, and dwarves were among those who came to Midkemia at
the end of the Chaos Wars. My people remained on our birth world.

While other races thrived, mine did not. Macros found me, the last of
my race, and brought me here." Miranda said, "I am sorry." Gathis
shrugged.

"It is the way of the universe. Nothing lasts forever,
perhaps not even the universe itself.

"But one thing my people were as
well as those other things I mentioned was a priesthood." Pug's eyes
widened.

"You were a priesthood of magic!" Gathis said, "Exactly. We
were worshipers of Sarig, though by a different name." Pug looked
around and found a rock ledge upon which to sit.

"Go on, please."

5I7

"As the last of my race I was desperate to find someone to carry on the
worship of the God of Magic. Before I died I wished to see the
continuation of what we believed was a most important cause, the return
of magic to Midkemia." Miranda said, "There's always been magic in
Midkemia."

"I think he means the Greater Magic," said Pug.

"More," said
Gathis.

"The return of magic in the order intended."

"Intended by whom?" asked Miranda.

"By the nature of magic itself."

"There is no magic," said Pug, laughing.

"Exactly," said Gathis.

"Nakor believes there is a primary reality in the universe that anyone
may manipulate, take advantage of, and use beneficially, if he but
tries. He is partially right. What is known as the Lesser Magic to
humans is an intuitive magic, and magic of poetry and song, of feelings
and senses. It is why the Lesser Magicians chose totems and elements
with which to identify.

"The priests of the other orders believe that
all magic is prayer answered. They are correct, though not in the way
they think. It is not their gods answering their prayers, but rather
magic itself responding in accordance to the nature of their particular
clerical calling. This is also why the high priests and other highly
advanced members of each order can effect magic that resembles one
another's, while lesser practitioners would find such displays
anathema.

"All is of a piece."

"So you're saying that magicians are in
actuality worshiping Sarig?" asked Miranda.

"In a manner of speaking,
but not exactly that. Each time a spell of the Greater Magic is in
canted the opportunity exists for prayer, for a tiny bit of that
worship to feed Sarig, bringing him that much closer to returning to
us."

"Well then," said Miranda, 'why aren't you down at Stardock
gathering converts?" Pug laughed.

"Because of politics."

5I8

"Exactly," said Gathis.

"Can you imagine what should occur if one such
as I appeared and claimed all that I have told you?" Miranda nodded.

"I see your point. I've experienced enough to know you're probably
right, and I still find it difficult to belie . - - v "That's because
you're a product of your training, as was I," said Pug.

"We must rise
above that.

"What does this have to do with us? I mean, why are you
telling us this now?"

"Macros the Black was the single most powerful
master of magic upon Midkemia until the advent of Master Pug's return
from Kelewan," said Gathis.

"It is my mission to remain as close to
whoever that person may be as long as I live.

"As long as the Black One
existed, no matter how far removed, I was bound to him. Now he no
longer exists, and I must continue in my mission of working on behalf
of Sarig."

"So you want to create a similar bond with me?" asked Pug.

"In a manner of speaking, but you must understand exactly what this
entails.

"You know what the bond was between Macros and Sarig. Sarig
claimed Macros as his own, his agent on Midkemia, and provided him with
his powers. You were the one who severed the bond between them." Pug
said, "But at the last Macros used Sarig's powers to defeat Maarg."

"Perhaps," said Gathis.

"I was not a witness to that, but if it is as
you described it to me when you first returned, then that was Sarig's
last gift to Macros, the power to destroy himself and the demon, rather
than fall prey to whatever it was stood behind the demon."

"Whatever it
was stood behind the demon?" asked Miranda, and suddenly she was aware
again of the know
ledge that had been blocked from her memory.

"I think I understand."

Gathis nodded.

"I think you do, as well. Master Pug, you, on the
other hand, are not connected to Sarig. You were not even given your
powers on this world. Your ties to the Tsurani heritage and their
practices, your native ties to Midkemia, conspire to make you something
of a neutral agent in this.

"Which is why you now have a choice."

"And that is?"

"You now
understand that an ages-old conflict is under way, between powers so
vast and ancient our mortal minds can barely comprehend them; we can
only serve our tiny part in the great conflict. Your choice is this:

you may continue to act as an independent agent for those causes you
consider worthy, or you may dedicate yourself to Sarig, taking the
place of Macros. If you do so, you gain greater power than you already
have, for you will not only have the full measure of the gods' powers
and knowledge native to Midkemia, you will also have your knowledge
from Kelewan."

"So you're saying I was chosen and trained to be
Macros's successor?" Gathis regarded Pug for a silent moment.

"I have
come to know this much about the gods: often we act for reasons about
which we are uncertain. Who is to say if anything Macros ever did was
without Sarig's influences? Macros found you as a baby and unlocked
something rare and powerful within you; I do not know if he understood
where you would be today. I can't say he chose you to be his
successor, but I can say you now stand in the place where you can
choose to he such. It is up to you."

"What do I give up?" asked Pug.

"Freedom," said Gathis.

"You will find you need to do things without
understanding exactly why. Macros claimed he could see the future, and
that was partially
true, but part of that claim was theatrics, the showmanship of a vain
man attempting to make everyone think he was far more than he really
was. It's ironic, for he was more powerful than any man I've met,
until I met you, Master Pug. But even the most powerful among your
race has flaws, I have discovered over the centuries.

"In any event,
you will find your life is no longer your own." Pug said, "You offer a
great deal, but you demand a great deal as well."

"Not I, Master Pug;

he does." Gathis pointed to the statue of the god. Miranda said, "How
long does he have to think this over?"

"As long as he needs," said
Gathis.

"The gods move along a stately course, in their own time, and
the lives of mortals are but fleeting heartbeats to them." Pug said,
"You've given me a great deal to think about. What happens if I say
no?"

"Then we will wait until another appears, one whose nature and
powers are such that the god chooses him to assume the mantle of
Sarig's agent." Pug looked at Miranda and said, "Something else for us
to discuss." She nodded. Gathis said, "I will leave you alone. Perhaps
the god himself will guide your thoughts. If you need anything, I will
be back at the villa." The green-faced steward of the villa departed
and Pug said, "What should I do?"

"Be a god? Seems like a hard one to
reject." Pug reached out and pulled her to him. As he held her close,
he said, "It also seems like a hard one to accept."

"Well, we have
time," said Miranda, hugging him back.

"Do we?" asked Pug as his mind
turned to the question of the war.

Erik shouted orders as the battle reached a critical stage. For two
days they had fought along the second barricade, suffering one breach
which had taken every reserve at Erik's disposal to close. He had
successfully evaluated the demands for defending this position and had
set up a schedule for rotating his soldiers in and out of the line, so
that those who had fought longest could get some rest. The wounded were
being evacuated along with the support baggage to Darkmoor. Erik knew
that it was only a matter of minutes before he would give the order to
withdraw and he had to set the torch to his boyhood home.

He'd had moments of regret in anticipation of that act for months,
since reviewing Calis's original plan of battle, but at this point he
was so exhausted he felt nothing. Perhaps that would change when he
actually saw the Inn of the Pintail, the Growers' and Vintners' Hall,
and all the other familiar landmarks of Ravensburg in flames, but right
now all he was concerned with was an orderly withdrawal. The enemy
seemed limitless. By Erik's rough calculation they had lost six
thousand men at the two barricades, while he had lost fewer than
fifteen hundred. But he knew that losses of four to one were
acceptable to the Emerald Queen, while such a ratio was disastrous to
the Kingdom. He needed to do better than six to one for the Kingdom to
withstand the enemy. Erik blocked a blow from a particularly muscular
man with a war axe, then skewered him with a sword thrust. He stepped
back from the battle, letting a soldier take his place. Glancing
around, he judged it time to withdraw. By the time they reached
Darkmoor, night would be falling. He moved far enough from the fighting
so he need not have to worry about anything except possibly a stray
arrow and signaled for runners. Four of them came to stand before him
and saluted. He said, "Pass the word up and down the line. General
withdrawal on my signal." The soldiers hurried off, and Erik saw the
magician Robert d'Lyes hurrying toward him. is there anything I can do
to help?" the magician asked.

"Thanks, but unless you have a way to get
those bastards on the other side to withdraw for a few minutes, so we
can get out of here safely, I think not." The magician said, "How many
minutes?"

"Ten, fifteen. More than that would be good, but in that
time I can get the last of the wounded to the wagons and the rest of
the mounted infantry in the saddle. The horse archers can hold the
enemy at bay while the foot soldiers move out; if we can do that, we
might all survive to fight
in Darkmoor." Robert said, "I have an idea. I don't know if it will
work, but it might."

"We're pulling out, so give it a try," said Erik.

"How long before you give the order?"

"Five more minutes," said Erik as
he signaled for his horse. , d'Lyes said, As a soldier ran up leading
Erik's mount "That should be enough." The magician hurried to a
position a short distance behind the fighting, risking an errant arrow
for his troubles. He closed his eyes and started a chant, then put his
hand in his shirt and pulled out a small leather pouch. opening it, he
reached inside and took out something Erik couldn't see what and made
several passes with his hands. Suddenly a cloud of greenish-black smoke
appeared at the crest of the barricade. instantly those inside began
to cough and retch. The smoke expanded, following the ridge line, and
men on both sides fell back. Then d'Lyes shouted, "Poison!" Erik
blinked in astonishment, then he shouted in the dialect of the
invaders, Poison! Poison! Withdraw! withdraw!" The cry was echoed up
and down the line as men from

MON KING 523

RAGE OF A DE

both sides fell back. Erik wasted no time. He signaled up and down
the line, crying, "Retreat! Retreat!" The command echoed up and down
the line, and the

Kingdom Army withdrew from the barricade. Robert d'Lyes hurried to
where Erik sat and said, "They won't be fooled for long. When those
men who are vomiting recover, they'll be back."

"What was that you
did?"

"It's a useful little spell designed to kill mice, rats, and
other vermin in barns. II you breathe the smoke, you get very sick to
your stomach for about an hour, but after that you're fine." Erik was
impressed.

"Thank you for thinking of it."

"You're welcome. It might
be more useful if I could figure a way to make it more toxic, so the
enemy would really be poisoned."

"Only if you also can figure out how
to keep it on the correct side of the battlefield."

"Yes," said the
magician.

"I see the problem. Now what do we do?"

"Run like hell,"
said Erik.

"Very well," said d'Lyes, and he started running as fast as
he could to where his horse was tied. Erik gave the order and watched
with relief as the men too wounded to walk were carried to the last of
the baggage wagons. Others hurried to mount waiting horses. The
archers in the rocks climbed down as fast as they could, and mounted
also or joined the general withdrawal, depending on which units they
served. Erik saw the enemy fleeing to the west, many of them rolling on
the ground, clutching their stomachs, in what they thought were death
throes. A few of his own men, also incapacitated by the smoke, were
helped to safety by their comrades. Erik counted the minutes, and after
ten had come and gone, he said, "Fall back!"

The light cavalry, spears at the ready, were scheduled to be the last
units to withdraw before the horse archers. Erik passed them and saw
tired, bloody men, but men with a look in their eyes that made his
chest swell with pride. He saluted them, ~an cantered his horse toward
town. As he rode away, he saw firelight on the ridges, as the engineers
torched their catapults and mangonels. The machines too big and
difficult to move without dismantling were destroyed to deny them to
the enemy. Reaching Ravensburg, he saw men with torches at the ready.

He glanced around his boyhood home as the baggage wagons rolled through
the center of town, taking the wounded and the supplies to the next
defensive position. Erik dismounted and loosened his horse's girth,
giving the animal a bit of rest. He led the horse to a trough and let
him drink a little. Erik watched, waiting for the signal from his
rearmost scout that the chase was on, when he would have to burn his
boyhood town. But time passed and no enemy approached. Erik considered
they might be leery of approaching the place where d'Lyes had
'poisoned' them until they realized it was a ruse. That extra hour
would gain them a precious advantage. When he judged they would safely
be through, he shouted, "Order the archers and lancers to retire." A
messenger rode off to the west, carrying word to the last of the
Kingdom's scouts to withdraw, and Erik rode toward the Inn of the
Pintail. He reached it as a soldier stood ready to ignite hay piled
against the fence and outer wall Erik said, "Give that to me,"
indicating the torch. The soldier did as ordered, and Erik threw the
torch into the hay.

"No one's going to burn my home but me," he said.

Then he turned and shouted, "Burn it!" Everywhere soldiers rode or ran
through the town, tossing hundreds of torches. Erik couldn't bring
himself to watch the fire destroy the inn, so he put heels to his
horse's barrel and rode back to the center of town. flames were
rising quickly on all sides as the first elements of the light cavalry
rode through. He knew the horse archers would be the last out, and was
determined to ride with them. The horse archers came fast, in a
maneuver created by Calis, one he said originated with riders in
Novindus, the Jeshandi. Half the squad would ride, while the other
half would cover and fire, then the squad that had ridden would stop
and offer cover fire to the group that had just
been firing. It required precision and practice, but Calis had drilled
these horse archers to perfection, so their withdrawal was nearly
flawless. A few enemy arrows sped after them, as the fires announced
to the invaders that the Kingdom was withdrawing, but most were fired
blindly, arched high from behind the cover of boulders, and fell
harmlessly to the ground. As enemy fire increased, Erik felt it was
time to go, so he shouted, "That's enough! Retreat!" The horse archers
turned as one, set heels to their horses, and galloped to the east.

They rode furiously until they were sure no enemy followed close on
their heels, then they slowed to a relatively relaxed canter, saving
the horses as much as they could. The usual travel time to Wolverton
was three hours on a walking horse. Erik reached the town in less than
one. The entire way he saw the baggage wagons lumbering down the road,
and as he reached Wolverton, he saw them slowing, moving around a
building, on the edge of town. Jadow and another man from his company
stood waving, and Erik rode up.

"What is it?"

"Most of your cavalry
and infantry went by about ten, fifteen minutes ago. We almost had a
disaster when they tried to run over the wagons."

"Are you overseeing
traffic?" Jadow grinned.

"More. Got a few of those traps you asked
for, enough so that after a couple of them go off, the enemy should
slow down a bit." They waited as the

wagons rolled on. Again Erik rested his horse. He and Jadow were too
concerned with the possibility of the enemy's overtaking the last of
the baggage train to engage in small talk. For another two hours the
wagons rolled, until suddenly a company of riders could be seen, Erik's
rear guard. Jadow motioned toward the company of riders.

"They the
last?" Erik nodded.

"If you hang around, my advice is, the next rider
you see coming down the road, kill him." Jadow motioned to where he had
two horses tied to a broken-down fence and said, "Think I'd rather ride
with you." Jadow and his soldier got the two horses, mounted and
returned to Erik's side.

"Ride where I tell you, boys, and everything
will be fine." Erik motioned for Jadow to lead and followed him into
the small town of Wolverton.

"What have you done?"

"Well," said Jadow,
'you asked for some nasty surprises, so we obliged. A couple of pits
here, a few casks of oil there, some torches we just set burning in
that building, some other little things. Nothing will be too damaging,
but it should slow them as they start inspecting every building." Erik
nodded his approval.

"Very good." They rode through Wolverton. The
town lay across the King's Highway, but it was surrounded on the north
and south by flat meadows and groves, providing an impossible defensive
position. If Jadoes surprises slowed the enemy a little, making them
ride around the town instead of marching straight through, the extra
minutes would save lives. Erik and Jadow came up behind the last wagon
slowly working its way along the King's Highway. Erik turned to Jadow.

"You and the horse archers guard this and the other stragglers. I
have to ride ahead."

"Yes, sir," said Jadow with his customary smile
and half-mocking salute. Erik pushed his tired horse forward, passing
the last of the baggage wagons and a few walking wounded who
could find no room in the wagons. Twice he found men resting on the
side of the road, and he ordered them to keep going, lest they fall too
far behind and be killed by the enemy. As sundown neared, he was forced
to rest his horse. Here the road rose steeply, heading to the summit.

He looked down the trail and was astonished to see the long line of men
and wagons trudging along the highway. He had ridden past every wagon
behind him, yet until this moment he had no concept of how many men
were still
on the road. Torches were lit here and there, and soon a long, flaming
fine seemed to be creeping along the King's Highway, coming his way, a
stately procession. Erik felt a quickening urgency that precluded his
standing idle, so he dismounted and led his horse along. He passed a
wagon at the side of the road, where men worked frantically to repair a
broken spoke, and when he turned a bend in the road, he saw it:

Darkmoor. Athwart the highway rested the walled city of Darkmoor, and
along the eastern side of the mountains ran Nightmare Ridge. There,
Erik knew, the fate of the Kingdom and the world of Midkemia would be
decided. The city was now ablaze with lanterns and torches along the
wall, so from this distance it looked as if a celebration was in
progress. Erik knew it was an illusion, for those lights meant the
full weight of the Western Realm's defenses would soon be in place. The
region of Darkmoor was actually to the south and east of the city that
bore its name. The original Castle Darkmoor had been built as the
Kingdom's westernmost defense long before the founding of Krondor.

Over the years the town, then the city, of Darkmoor arose, until it,
too, had been enclosed by a wall. After Wolverton, Erik had ridden
through a relatively empty landscape, as most of the terrain close to
the city was rocky and non-arable. Small trees and tough mountain
grasses, low brush, and
some flowers hugged the roadside. Farther back, trees grew deep in the
valleys and gullies running down the west face. Most of the area
around the city itself had been forested clear ages ago. Food and
other perishables were hauled into Darkmoor from lower-lying farming
hamlets. On the highest peak to the north of the King's Highway, rising
like a guardian, was the original Darkmoor Keep. It was now a citadel,
for it had originally been built as a walled fort and the wall and moat
around the castle had never been removed. Now the city sprawled out
across the pass, and the King's Highway ran through a massive oak gate,
bound with iron and flanked by high turrets, each with crenelated,
overhanging parapets. Erik judged that no one attempting to reach the
gate would be able to do so without being exposed to bow fire
catapults, or hot water or oil from above. The setting sun threw a red
highlight on the castle, and Erik turned to the west. In the distance
he saw the sun disappear in a haze of smoke, from the fires in
Ravensburg and Wolverton. Erik reached the gate of the city to discover
that the street was packed with refugees from the west. He led his
horse past frustrated soldiers trying to deal with the throng of
humanity attempting to squeeze into the city. Erik shouted, "Which way
to the keep?" A soldier looked over his shoulder and, seeing the
crimson eagle on Erik's tunic, and the badge of rank, said, "To the
center of town, and then left on High Street, Captain." Erik led his
horse through the throng, occasionally having to shove someone aside to
get past knots of confused citizens and fatigued, short-tempered
soldiers. The journey took him nearly an hour. Eventually he reached
the ancient drawbridge that crossed the moat separating the citadel
from the rest of the city. A squad of soldiers had blocked off the
street for a hundred yards in all directions, so that those needing
quick access to and from the Prince's headquarters would not be
impeded. Erik approached the guard and pointed to the west.

"Tell me,
is that a clear passage to the western gate?" The guard said, "It is.

Runs along the wall and turns at that corner down there." Erik sighed.

"I wish someone at the gate had mentioned that He started past the
guard, who dropped a spear before Erik's chest.

"Here, now. Where do
you think you're going?"

"To see the Prince and General Greylock," said a very ed Erik. ,-IAnd
suppose you show me some orders, then?" Erik said, "Orders? From
whom?"

"Your officer, assuming you're not another deserter looking to
tell the General some cock-and-bull story about being separated from
your unit." Erik slowly reached up, took a grip on the spear shaft, and
without apparent effort moved it back upright, despite the soldier's
attempts to keep it where he had it. As the man's jaw tightened and
his eyes widened, Erik said, "I am an officer. I know I look worse for
wear, but I need to see the Prince." Other soldiers were approaching as
they noticed the confrontation. Another shouted, "Hey, Sergeant!" A
sergeant in the uniform of Darkmoor, a black shield with a red raven on
a branch on a tan tabard, ran over.

"What's this, then?" The soldier
said, "This fellow wants to see the Prince." The sergeant, a tough old
boot used to instant obedience by his men, snapped, "And just who the
hell might you be that the Prince would want to see you?" Erik pushed
aside the spear and stepped forward, locking eyes with the sergeant.

"Erik von Darkmoor, Captain of the Prince's Special Command!" At the
mention of his name, several of the soldiers
stepped aside, while the others glanced at the sergeant. The old
veteran grinned and said, "Looks like you've seen a bit of trouble,
then, Captain."

"You could say that. Now, step aside." The sergeant
didn't hesitate, moving briskly to one side. As Erik passed, he handed
the reins to the sergeant, saying, "Get him some water and feed him.

He's all done in. Then send word where you've stabled him. He's a
good horse and I don't want to lose him." The sergeant took the reins.

As Erik walked away, he said without looking back, 'oh, and when my
sergeant arrives, send him straight to me. You'll have no trouble
recognizing him. He's a tall, Keshian-looking fellow, dark skin and
he'll snatch your head right off your shoulders if you give him one
half the trouble you just gave me." Erik crossed the drawbridge. He
looked up at the lights shining in the many windows of the ancient
castle. Founded by one of his ancestors, Castle Darkmoor was an alien
place to Erik. As a boy he had dreamed of someday being summoned here
by his father, to be recognized and given a place in the household.

When those dream died, they were replaced by curiosity. Then they
faded altogether. Now the castle had the ominous look of a bad place
to die, and as he walked through the gatehouse, entering the ancient
castle bailey, Erik realized that the feeling came from the fact that
not only was there an army on its way here that wanted him dead, inside
was a woman who had vowed to see him dead: Mathilda von Darkmoor, his
father's widow and mother of the half-brother he had killed. With a
deep sigh, Erik turned to a captain of the Guard and said, "Take me to
Greylock. I'm Captain von Darkmoor." Without a word the captain
saluted, turned smartly and led Erik into his ancestral home.

TWENTY-FOUR

Darkmoor

Calis studied the gem. He was so engrossed in it he almost failed to
notice the appearance of four figures in the great hall of the oracle.

He glanced at the oracle's attendants, and as they displayed no
distress, he assumed there was no danger. He looked at the new arrivals
and saw his father, resplendent in his white and gold armor, standing
beside Nakor,

Sho Pi, and a man dressed in the raiment of a monk of Ishap. Calis
forced himself away from studying the gem and rose to greet them.

"Father," he said, hugging Tomas. Then he shook hands with Nakor.

Nakor said, "This is Dominic. He is the Abbot at Sarth. I thought he
would prove useful to have with us." Calis nodded. Tomas asked, "You
were engrossed in the gem when we arrived." Calis said, "I am seeing
things in it, Father." Tomas said, "We need to talk." He glanced at the
others and said, "But first I must pay my respects." He crossed to the
great, recumbent dragon, paused next to the gigantic head, and gently
touched it.

"Well met, old friend," he said softly. Then he turned to
the senior-most of her companions and said, "Is she well?" The old man
bowed slightly.

"She dreams and in her
dreams she relives a thousand lives, sharing them with the soul who
will occupy that great body after her." He motioned to a young boy, who
came to stand before Tomas.

"As I do with my replacement." Tomas
nodded. 'most ancient of races, we have transported you from one doom
to another."

"There is risk," said the old man, 'but there is purpose.

We know that much." Tomas nodded, and returned to Calis and the others.

Dominic looked past Tomas with wide eyes.

"I never would have
believed." Nakor laughed.

"No matter what I see, I never imagine I've
seen it alL The universe offers endless surprises." Calis said, "How is
it you all managed to arrive together?" Long story," said Nakor. He
produced a Tsurani transportation globe and said, "Not many of these
left. Should get some more." Calis smiled.

"Unfortunately, the rift
to Kelewan is on Stardock, and last I looked it's now firmly in the
hands of Kesh."

"Not so firmly," said Nakor with a grin.

"What do you
mean?" asked Calis. Nakor shrugged.

"Pug asked me to think of
something, so I did."

"What?" asked Tomas.

"I'll tell you when we
survive this coming ordeal and the fate of Stardock has some meaning."

Tomas said, "Calis, what did you mean about seeing things in the gem?"

Calis looked at his father in surprise, and asked, "Can't you see
them?" Tomas turned his attention to the Lifestone, an artifact he knew
in some ways more intimately than any living being on Midkemia. He let
his mind relax and watched the cool green surface, and after a moment
saw a pulsing
light, faint and hard to apprehend if one tried too hard. After a
moment he said, "I see no images."

"Odd," said Calis.

"They were
apparent to me the first few moments I looked at it."

"What do you
see?" asked Nakor. Calis said, "I don't know if I have words. But I
think I'm seeing the true history of this world." Nakor sat on the
floor.

"Oh, this is most interesting. Please, tell me what you think
you see." Calis sat, as if to compose his thoughts.

Suddenly Pug and Miranda appeared. Tomas welcomed his old friend and
Miranda, motioning for them to sit.

"What is it?" asked Pug. Tomas
said, "Calis is about to tell us what he sees in the ~lifestone." .

Calis glanced to Miranda and to Pug, and for a moment he held the
magician's gaze. Then he smiled.

"I'm pleased to see you both again."

Miranda returned his smile.

"As we are to see you." Calis said, "I
must speak of the Lifestone." Nakor turned to Sho Pi and said,
"Memorize every word if you want to continue bearing the mantle of
disciple."

"Yes, Master." Calis said.

"The Lifestone is Midkemia, in
the purest form, a reflection of all life that has gone before, is now,
or will be, from the dawn until the end of time." All fell silent as
Calis considered his words.

"At the beginning, there was nothing and
then came the universe. Pug and my father bore witness to that
creation, as I have heard the story." He smiled at his father.

"Several times.

"When the universe was born, it was aware, but in a
fashion so far beyond what we comprehend that we have no adequate
concepts to understand that awareness." Nakor grinned.

"It is like
ants carrying food to their nest,

while overhead a dragon sits atop a mountain. The ants have no concept
of We dragon." Calis said, "More, but that is not an entirely faulty
comparison." This awareness is more than any of us all of us
together could comprehend. It is so vast and so timeless.. ." He
paused.

"I don't think I can say more about it.

"When Midkemia was
formed, it was home to powers, basic forces of nature. Mindless, they
were forces that built up and tore down."

"Rathar and Mythar," said
Tomas.

"The Two Blind Gods of Creation."

"As good a name for those
forces as any," agreed Nakor. Calis said, "Then came a reordering of
things. Consciousness arose, and the beings that were mindless became
purposeful. it is we who define the gods, in a fashion that makes sense
to us, but they are so much more than this.

"The order of the universe
is like a gem with many facets, and we see only one, that which
reflects the existence of our own world." Pug said, "It is shared with
other worlds?"

"Oh yes," said Calis softly.

"With all worlds. This is
one of the key reasons why what we do here has a profound bearing upon
every other world in the cosmos. It is the primal struggle between
that which we label good and that which we call evil, and it exists in
every corner of creation." He turned to look at the others in the great
cave and said, "I could speak for hours, so let me distill what I think
I have discovered." Calis composed his thoughts, then continued. -"The
Valheru were more than just the first race to live on Midkemia. They
were a bridge between immortal and mortal. They were the first
experiment, if you wilt of the gods."

"Experiment?" said Pug.

"What
kind of an experiment?"

"I don't know," said Calis.

"I can't even be
certain what I'm saying is true, only that it feels true."

Nakor said, "It's true." All eyes turned toward the little Isalani. He
grinned.

"It makes sense." Pug said, "What makes sense?" Nakor said,
"Has anyone besides me wondered why we think?" As the question came
seemingly from out of the blue, everyone exchanged astonished glances.

Pug laughed.

"Not recently, no."

"We think because the gods have given
us the power of apprehension," said Dominic. Nakor shook his finger at
the Abbot.

"You know that's
dogma, and you know the gods are as much the creation of mankind as
mankind is the creation of the gods." Pug asked, "So, then, what is
your point?"

"Oh, just wondering," said Nakor.

"I was thinking of that
story you told me, about when you and Tomas went to find Macros, and
you saw the creation of the universe."

"And?" asked Tomas.

"Well,"
began Nakor, 'it seems to me you have to begin at the beginning." Pug
stared at the little man and- burst out laughing. Within seconds
everyone was laughing.

"See," said Nakor, 'humor is a property of
intelligence."

"All right, Nakor," said Miranda, 'what are you talking
about?" Nakor said, "Something started it alL' "Yes," said Dominic.

"There was a primal urge, a creator, something."

"Suppose," said Nakor,
it was a self-creation?"

"The universe just decided to awake one day?"

asked Miranda. Nakor pondered the question a moment.

"There is
something I think we should always keep in mind: everything we know
about is limited by our own perceptions, our own ability to understand,
in short by our very nature."

True," agreed Pug. So to say the universe woke up one day is perhaps at
one and the same time the most apt and the most incomplete way of
putting it, said Nakor. Dominic said, "This sort of debate is common in
the courts of the church. The exercises in logic and faith can often
be frustrating."

"But I think we have something here few of your
brothers have, Abbot," said Nakor.

"Eyewitnesses to creation."

"If
that is what they saw," said Dominic.

"Ah," said Nakor and he could
barely contain his glee.

"We cannot be sure about anything, can we?"

""What is reality?" is a common question in those moot courts I spoke
of," said the Abbot.

"Reality is what you bump into in the dark,"s aid
Miranda dryly. Nakor laughed, then he said,You've talked about this
big ball thing blowing up to make the universe, right?" Pug nodded.

"So, what if everything was inside that ball?"

"We assume it was," said
Pug.

"Well, what was outside the ball?"

"We were," said Pug quickly,
'and the Garden and the City Forever."

"But you come from within that
big ball," said Nakor, and as the others watched, he stood and began to
pace, animated hovering on the brink of understanding.

"I mean, you
~es into the future, from the
creation, but f- 'qe ball, if you see. '~ity Forever?" asked
Miranda. ed far in the future; what do you 0, know, and for the moment
I I'm saying i~u're a thousand years old you're the one who makes the
City Forever and sends it back to the dawn of time so you and Macros
have some place to sit to watch the universe being born."

"Baby
universes and thousand-year-old magicians," said Dominic, obviously
trying to be patient and losing the attempt. Nakor held up his hand.

"Why not? We know traveling through time is possible. Which brings
up, what is time?" They all glanced at one another and each began to
answer, but soon all fell silent.

"Time is time," said Dominic.

"It
marks the passage of events."

"No," said Nakor.

"Humans mark the
passage of events. Time doesn't care; time just is. But what is it?"

He wore a delighted grin as he answered his own question: "Time is what
keeps everything from happening at once." Pug's eyebrows rose.

"So in
the ball everything was happening at once?"

"And then the universe
changed," said Nakor with glee.

"Why?" asked Miranda. Nakor shrugged.

"Who knows? It just did. Pug, you told me when you found Macros this
last time, he had begun to merge with Sarig. Was he Macros or was he
Sarig?"

"Both for a short while, but he was still mostly Macros."

"I
wish I could ask him, "As you were merging, did you lose your sense of
being Macros?" For a moment Nakor looked genuinely regretful, but then
his grin returned as he said, "I think it safe to say that the more you
become one with a god, the less you stay you."

"Then I understand,"
said Dominic. "What?" asked
Miranda.

"What this madman is driving at." The old Abbot put his finger
to his head.

"Mind. The spirit of the gods, the "everything" he talks
about as "stuff." If everything was Occurring at once, before this
creation, then everything was everything. No differentiation."

"Yes,"
said Nakor, delighted at the Abbot's observations.

"So, for reasons we
will never know, the totality of creation acted to differentiate
itself. This "birth" of the universe was a mean r the universe.. ."

The Abbot's eyes widened.

"It was the universe attempting to become
conscious."

Tomas's eyes narrowed.

"I don't follow. Humans are conscious, as are
other intelligent races, and the gods are conscious, but the universe
is .. . it is, that's all."

"No," said Nakor.

"Why humans? Why
other thinking creatures?"

"I don't know," said Pug. Nakor's expression
turned serious.

"Because becoming mortal is the means by which the
universe, this "stuff " I talk about, becomes self-conscious,
self-aware. Each life is the universe's experiment, and each of us
brings back knowledge to the universe when we die. Macros attempted to
become one with a god, and learned that the further you get from
mortality, the further you stray from that self-consciousness. Lesser
Gods are more detached from "self " than mortals; Greater Gods even
more so, I wager." Dominic nodded.

"The Tear of the Gods allows the
Order to communicate with the Greater Gods. It is a very difficult
task. We rarely attempt it, and when we do, often the communications
are incomprehensible." The old Abbot sighed.

"The Tear is a valuable
gift, for it lets us work the magic that proves to those who serve us
that Ishap is still living, so we can worship and work toward his
return, but the nature of the gods, even that one we worship, is far
beyond our ability to know." Nakor laughed.

"Very well, now if this
universe was born the day Macros, Pug, and Tomas were watching, what
does that say about the universe?"

"I don't know," admitted Pug.

"It's
a baby," said Nakor. Pug laughed. He couldn't help himself.

"The
universe is several billion years old, by my calculations."

Nakor shrugged.

"That may be a two-year-old universe for all we know.

What if it is?"

"What's the point?" said Miranda. Tomas said, "Yes.

While all this is fascinating, we still have some problems to solve."

Nakor said, "True, but the more we know about what it is we're involved
with, the more we have a chance of
solving those problems."

"Agreed, but where to begin?"

"I asked
earlier, why do we think? I may have some idea." Nakor paused, then
continued, "Suppose for a moment the universe, everything in it, and
everything that ever was or will be is linked."

"We share something in
common?" asked Dominic.

"No, more than that; we are all the same."

Looking at Pug and Miranda, Nakor said, "You call it magic. I call it
tricks." To Dominic he said, "You call it prayer. But it's all the
same thing, and what it is.. "Yes?" prompted Pug.

"That's where I run
into a problem. I don't know what it is. I call it "stuff." He
sighed.

"It's some sort of basic thing, something that everything is
made up of."

"You might have called it spirit," suggested Dominic.

"You
might have called it laundry," said Miranda dryly. Nakor laughed.

"Whatever it is, we're all part of it, and it's part of us." Pug was
silent for a moment.

"This is maddening. I feel as if I'm almost at
the edge of understanding something, but it's just outside my grasp.

"And what does this have to do with putting things right?"

"Everything.

Nothing. I don't know," said Nakor agreeably. It's just something
I was thinking of." Tomas said, "Much of what you say echoes things I
knew once, when I was one with Ashen-Shugar." Nakor said, "I think so.

The universe is alive, a being of

impossible complexity and vastness. It is, for want of a better term,
a god. Maybe The God. I don't know."

"Macros called it The Ultimate,"
said Tomas.

"That's good," said Nakor.

"The Ultimate God, the One
Above All as the Ishapians call Ishap."

"But you're not talking of
Ishap," said Dominic.

"No, he's an important god, but he's not The
Ultimate. I don't think this Ultimate even has a name. He just Is.f
Nakor sighed.

"Can you imagine a being with stars in its head,
billions of them? We have blood and bile, it has worlds and comets and
intelligent races ... everything." Nakor was obviously excited by the
image, and Pug glanced at Miranda, seeing her smile reflecting his own
amusement at the strange little man's pleasure.

"The Ultimate, if you
will, knows everything, is everything, but He's a baby. How do babies
learn?" Pug, who had raised his children, said, "They watch, they are
corrected by their parents. they mimic' "But," interrupted Nakor,
'if you're God, and there's no Mama God or Papa God, how do you learn?"

Miranda was caught up in the discourse and began to laugh.

"I have no
idea."

"You experiment," said Dominic.

"Yes," said Nakor, and his grin
became even wider.

"You try things. You create things, like people,
and you turn them loose to see what happens." Miranda said, "So we're
some sort of cosmic puppet theatre?"

"No," said Nakor.

"God isn't
watching us on a celestiall stage, because God is also the puppets."

"I'm completely lost," admitted Pug.

"We're back to why we think,"
explained Nakor.

"If God is everything, mind. spirit, thought,
action. dirt, wind' he glanced at Miranda 'laundry, everything that
is and can be, then each thing He is must be accounted for as having a
purpose.

54I

"What is life for?" he asked rhetorically.

"It's a way to evolve
thought. And what is thought for? It's a way to be aware, a stage
between the physical and the spiritual. And time? It's a good way to
keep things separated. And lastly,

why humans, and elves, and dragons, and other thinking creatures?"

Dominic said, "So that spirit can be self-conscious?" Nakor said,
"Right." He looked to be on the verge of doing a dance.

"Each time one
of us goes to Lims-Kragma's hall, we're sharing our life experience
with God. Then we go back and do it again, over and over." Miranda
didn't look convinced.

"So you're saying we live in a universe where
evil is just as much this God's fault as good?"

"Yes," said Nakor.

"Because God doesn't see it as good or evil; God's learning about good
and evil. To Him, it's just the odd way certain creatures behave."

"Seems He's slow," said Pug dryly.

"No, He's vast!" insisted Nakor.

"He's doing this over and over a billion billion times a day, on a
billion worlds!" Tomas said, "At one time Pug and I asked Macros what
the point was if we live in a universe this vast, this complex, should
one little planet succumb to the Valheru. He told us the nature of the
universe changed after the Chaos Wars and that a reemergence of the
Valheru into Midkemia would change the order of things."

"I think not,"
said Nakor.

"Oh, I mean it would be a very unhappy situation for
everyone on Midkemia, but eventually the universe would right itself.

God is learning. Of course, billions of people could die before
something happened to set things right again." Miranda said, "You make
it all sound so pointless."

"If you look at it that way, yes," said
Nakor.

"But I like to think the point is we're teaching God to do the
correct thing ~ we're correcting a baby and that good is worth
struggling for, that kindness is better than hatred, that
creation is better than destruction, and many other things as well."

"Anyway," said Pug, 'it's far more of an academic question to the
people living in the Kingdom." Calis said, "I'm right." All eyes
returned to Calis.

"He has just made it possible for me to understand
what it is that is being done and why I'm here." Miranda asked, "Why?"

Calis smiled.

"I need to unlock the Lifestone."

Erik drank deeply. The wine was a chilled white, a variety common to
this part of the duchy.

"Thank you," he said as he put down the
flagon. Prince Patrick, Owen Greylock, and Manfred von Darkmoor sat at
a table with Erik. Around the room stood a half-dozen other nobles,
some dressed like court dandies and others as dirty and blood-soaked as
Erik. Patrick said, "You've done well considering the rapidity with
which Krondor fell." thank you, Highness," said Erik. Greylock said, "I
just wish we had more time to prepare." Patrick said, "There is never
enough time. We must trust that we have done enough so that we can
hold them here, at Darkmoor." A messenger hurried in, saluted, and
handed a message to Greylock. He opened it and said, "Ill news. The
southern reserves are overrun."

"Overrun," said Patrick, slamming the
table in frustration. they were supposed to be cleverly hidden away,
ready to strike at the enemy and bleed them from behind. What
happened?" Owen handed the scroll to the Prince, but he said for the
benefit of the others in the room, "Kesh. She's moved her army just
south of Dorgin. The enemy's southern wing was being pinched too
tightly, and when they ran into the

Keshians on one flank and the dwarves ahead, they turned north and
overran our fortification."

"Kesh has taken a hand?" asked a
tired-looking old noble whom Erik didn't recognize.

"It was to be
expected," said Patrick.

"If we survive this war, we'll worry about
Kesh after."

"What of Lord Sutherland?" asked the noble.

"The Duke of
the Southern Marches is dead. Gregory as well as the Earl of Landreth
died in the fighting. My lords, if this report is accurate, for all
intents and purposes the
southern reserves no longer exist," said Greylock. One of the fancily
dressed nobles said, "Perhaps we should consider falling back to
Malac's Cross, Highness?" The Prince threw the man a withering look,
but refused to dignify the suggestion with a comment. Looking at Erik,
he said, "Those of you just in, please follow the squires outside to
your quarters. You'll find fresh clothing and a bath waiting. I'll be
pleased to dine with you in an hour's time He rose, and the others
followed suit.

"We'll continue this discussion at dawn tomorrow. We
will have more intelligence by then." He turned and left the room.

After the Prince had departed, Manfred motioned to Erik and Owen to
move away from the door.

"Well, we have an awkward situation, it
seems, gentlemen.o Erik nodded.

"I understood what I was in for the
moment I crossed the drawbridge." Owen said, "We are the Prince's men,
may I remind your lordship." Manfred waved away the comment.

"Tell
that to my mother." Then he gave a rueful smile.

"Better yet. don't."

Erik said, "We can't conduct the business of war while attempting to
avoid your mother, Manfred."

"Erik has that right," said Owen. Manfred
sighed.

"Very well. Owen, I've instructed our current Swordmaster to
turn your old quarters back over to you; I thought you might be more
comfortable there,

and truth to tell, it's getting a little bit crowded around here." Owen
smiled.

"I bet Percy is not happy."

"Your former assistant was never a
happy man; he was born with a long ~face." Turning to Erik, Manfred
said, "You'll stay in a room near mine. The closer you are to me, the
less likely Mother is to send someone after you." Erik looked dubious.

"Duke James tried to reason with her."

"No one "reasons" with Mother.

I suspect you'll find that out before this night is through. Now, let
me show you to your quarters. "Turning to Greylock, he said, "Owen, I'll
see you at supper."

"My lord," said Owen. The three left the
conference hall, and while Owen went one way, Manfred took Erik
another.

"This castle is quite large," said Manfred.

"It'seasy to get
lost. If you do, ask any servant where to gop "I don't know how long
I'll stay," said Erik.

"Owen and the Prince haven't told me what my
next position is to be. I replaced Calis in the fallback, but now that
phase is over."

"I suspect something similar," said Erik's
half-brother.

"It appears you've done quite well." He glanced around
the ancient halls of Darkmoor Castle.

"I hope I acquit myself as well
when the time comes."

"You will,p said Erik. They walked around a
corner, and Erik almost stumbled. Coming along the corridor was a
stately procession, an older woman in regal raiment, followed by two
guards and several lady companions. She stopped for a moment when she
saw Manfred, but when she recognized Erik, her eyes grew enormous.

"You!" she said with a near-hiss of contempt. It's the bastard. The
murderous bastard." She turned to the nearest guard and said, "Kill
him! The stunned guard looked from Mathilda, mother of the Baron, to
Manfred, who motioned with his hand for the
guard to step away. The guard nodded to the Baron and stepped back.

Manfred said, "Mother, we've been an over that. Erik has a pardon from
the King. Whatever has gone before is over."

"Never!" said the old
woman with a hatred that surprised Erik. He had imagined her distaste
for him, from the years when his mother demanded Erik's father
acknowledge him to the murder of her son, but never had he experienced
anything like this firsthand. Of all the men he had faced in battle,
none had regarded him with the pure, naked hatred Mathilda von Darkmoor
revealed in her
eyes.

"Mother!" said Manfred.

"That's enough. I'm ordering you to
desist!" The woman turned her gaze upon her son, and Erik saw instantly
that her hatred wasn't limited to Erik alone. She stepped forward, and
for an instant Erik feared she would strike her son. In a strident
whisper she said, "You order me?" She looked her son up and down.

"If
you were the man your brother was, you'd have killed this murdering
bastard before he got away. If you were even half as much a man as
your father, you'd have married and had a son by now, and this
bastard's claim would mean nothing. Do you want him to kill you? Do
you want to lie in the dirt while this killer takes your title? Do
"Mother!" Manfred roared.

"Enough!" He turned to the guards and said,
"Escort my mother to her quarters." He told his mother, "If you can
compose yourself, dine with us tonight, but if you can't maintain a
shred of dignity before Prince Patrick, do us the courtesy of dining in
your room! Now go!" Manfred turned and began walking, and Erik
followed, but he glanced over his shoulder. She never took her eyes
from him, and each step of the way Erik knew the old woman wished him
dead. Erik was so intent on the woman he almost knocked

Manfred down when he turned the corner. Manfred said, "Sorry about
that, Erik."

"I never imagined. I mean, I thought I understood..

"Understand Mother? You'd be the first." He waved for Erik to follow
and said, "Your room is down here, at the end of the halL' When he
opened the door and Erik entered, Manfred followed.

"I picked this one
for two reasons," said Manfred. He pointed to the window.

"It's a
quick exit. And this is one of the few rooms in Darkmoor that doesn't
have a secret passage leading to it."

"Secret passage?"

"Quite a lot of
them, really," Manfred said.

"This castle was enlarged several times
since the original Baron built the first tower keep. There had been
some quick exits should the castle fall, then some additional rooms
added with back passages so the lord could visit his favorite servant
in the middle of the night. Some of them serve a useful purpose, so
servants can move through the castle without getting underfoot, but for
the most part they're deserted old byways, useful for those who wish to
spy on their neighbors or for assassins." Erik sat down on a chair in
the corner.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." said Manfred.

"If I may
suggest a bath and change of clothing? I'll have the servants fetch
you some water straight away. The clothes in the wardrobe should fit."

He grinned.

"They were Father's." Erik said, "Do you delight in
upsetting your mother?" Manfred's face took on an edge of anger.

"More
than you'll ever know." Erik sighed.

"I thought about some of the
things you said about Stefan. when you came to visit me in jail. I
guess I never appreciated how hard it must be for you." Manfred
laughed.

"You'll never know."

"Do you mind if I ask you something?"

"What?"

"Why does she hate you? I know why she hates me, but she looked at you
the same way." Manfred said, "That, Brother, is something I may or may
not choose to disclose someday, but for the time being, let us just say
that Mother has never appreciated the way I choose to live my life. As
the second son, who would not inherit, it was only a source of some
slight conflict. Since Stefan's ... demise, the tension has increased
significantly." Sorry to have asked."

"That's all right. I can
appreciate why you'd be curious." Manfred turned toward the door.

"And
sometime I may
just tell you. Not because you have any right to know, but because it
would make Mother supremely unhappy if I did." With what Erik
considered an evil smile, Manfred left the room. Erik sat back,
waiting for the servants to bring his bath water. He had dozed off
when they knocked. Sleepily he rose and opened the door, and a
half-dozen servants entered, carrying buckets of steaming water and a
large metal tub. He allowed the two men who had carried the tub inside
to remove his boots for him, while the others filled it. Sitting in the
hot water made Erik feel as if every ache and pain was going to fade
away. He lay back a moment, then suddenly sat bolt upright as one of
the servants began to wash him.

"Is anything wrong, m'lord?"

"I'm not a
lord. You can call me "Captain," and I can bathe myself," said Erik,
taking the washing cloth and soap from the man.

"That will be all."

"Shall we lay out clothing before we go?"

"Ah yes, that would be fine,"
said Erik, now fully awake. The other servants left while the one who
had spoken selected clothing from the wardrobe.

"Shall I fetch boots,
Captain?"

"No, I'll wear my own."

"I'll try to clean them before you leave, sir." He was out of the door
with them before Erik could object. Erik shrugged and started washing
in earnest. He had rarely had the luxury of a hot bath, and as the
water cooled, he found himself reviving. He knew that as soon as
supper was over, unless the Prince demanded more meetings, he was going
to turn in and sleep the sleep of the dead. Then he reconsidered that
image and decided he'd sleep lightly, even with the door barred. Erik
had no idea of the time, but decided he didn't want to be late for
dinner with the Prince of Krondor. He dried himself off and inspected
the clothing chosen for him by the servant. The man had laid out a
pair of pale yellow leggings, a light blue tunic, and a stylish cloak
of very light grey, almost white. Erik decided to leave aside the
cloak, and donned the hose and tunic. Just as he was finishing, the
servant opened the door and said, "Your boots, Captain." Erik was
astonished. in a few minutes the man had managed to get all the blood
and filth off, and return the leather to a passable shine.

"Thank
you," said Erik as he took the boots. The servant said, "Shall I have
the bathtub removed while you dine?"

"Yes," said Erik as he donned his
boots. The servant departed, and Erik ran his hand over his chin. He
wished for a razor and some soap and supposed that had he asked for
them, they would have been provided, but he hadn't, so he- decided some
whiskers were preferable to keeping the prince of Krondor waiting.lutut
into the hall and around the corner to the council room, and found a
pair of 'be door to that chamber. He asked hall and the guard saluted
and

"What. '-]~m through a series of
passages, to what Erik expected was part of the original keep, or a
series of rooms added soon after, for the dining hall was surprisingly
intimate. There was a square table, with room for a dozen diners a
side, but the walls were only a few feet behind each of them, so if too
many people attempted to move at the same time, things could become
quite tangled. Erik nodded to several of the nobles he had met at
Krondor and was pointedly ignored by several others who were deep in
private conversations. Owen was
already there and indicated he should come and sit next to him. Erik
moved around the table and saw the three seats on the right next to
Greylock were empty. Greylock said, "Take this one," indicating the
seat on his left. He patted the seat on his right and said, "This is
the Prince's." Then Erik noticed every noble at the table was watching
him and suddenly he felt embarrassed. Dukes and Earls, Barons and
Squires, all were seated below him at the table. He knew that where one
sat in relationship to the Prince had serious implications in matters
of court intrigue, and he suddenly wished he had thought to take the
chair opposite the Prince, at the farthest table on the other side of
the room. A few minutes later, the door behind them opened, and Erik
turned to see Prince Patrick enter. He rose, as did the other nobles,
and they all bowed their heads. Then came Baron Manfred, their host,
followed by his mother. The Prince took his place at the center of the
head table, and Manfred moved to his right hand. Mathilda moved to her
chair, but when she saw Erik she said, "I will not sit at the same
table as my son's murderer." Manfred said, "Then, Madam, you shall dine
alone. "With a nod of his head, he ordered the guards to escort his
mother from the hall. She turned and silently left with her
escort.

Several of the nobles in attendance spoke softly to one another until
the Prince pointedly cleared his throat.

"Shall we begin?" he asked.

Manfred bowed his head and the Prince sat. The others followed suit.

The food was splendid and the wine was the best Erik had ever tasted,
but fatigue made it hard for him to keep alert. Still, the discussions
around him were all-important, for men spoke about the coming fight. At
one point someone observed that the northern flank was holding so well
it might prove wise to send for some of their soldiers to reinforce
Darkmoor. The Prince overheard the remark and said, "That wouldn't be
wise. We can't assume they won't return there in force the next day."

Discussion around the table turned to speculation about the coming
fight, and after a while, Prince Patrick said, "Captain von Darkmoor,
you more than any man here have fought the enemy. What can we expect?"

Every eye in the room turned toward Erik. He glanced at Greylock, who
gave him a slight nod. Erik cleared his throat and said, "We can expect
between a hundred and fifty and a hundred and seventy-five thousand
soldiers to arrive outside the city walls and along the entire length
of Nightmare Ridge."

"When?" asked one richly dressed court dandy.

"Anytime," answered Erik.

"Asearly as tomorrow." The man went pale at
the news and said, "Perhaps, Highness, we should call up the Army of
the East. They are only camped down in the hills to the east." Patrick
said, "The Army of the East will be called when I decide it's time." He
glanced at Erik.

"What sort of men do we face?" Erik knew the Prince
had read every report sent back by Calis on his three trips to
Novindus, during his grandfather Arutha's reign, during his uncle
Nicholas's reign, and the

55I

last time. He had also spoken to the Prince on this very subject no
less than five times, so Erik knew he was asking for the benefit of
those nobles in the room who were untested in battle. Erik glanced at
Greylock, who again gave him a faint nod and a slight smile. Erik knew
Owen well enough to understand what he was being asked to do. Erik
cleared his throat.

"Highness, the enemy is
composed of what were originally mercenary companies, men who fought
for pay under a hard-and-fast code of conduct. They have since been
forged by murder, terror, and dark magic into a force unlike any that
has waged war on the Kingdom in history." He looked around the room.

"Some are soldiers who have been fighting their way across half a
world, from the fall of the Westlands in Novindus to the destruction of
Krondor. For twenty years they have known nothing but war, plunder,
pillage and rape." He caught the dandy's eye and said, "Some of them
are cannibals."

The man went pale and seemed as if he might faint. Erik continued.

"They will come at us because they have no other option. We have
destroyed their fleet behind them. and they have no food. They also
number some ten to twenty thousand Saaur we don't know the exact
number." Some of the eastern nobles looked blank at the name.

"For
those who haven't been briefed, the Saaur are lizard men something akin
to the Pantathians, but nine feet tall. They ride war-horses
twenty-five hands at the withers, and the sound of them charging is
like thunder across the mountains."

"Oh, dear gods." said the dandy and
he rose up, holding his hand over his mouth. He dashed from the room,
and after a moment of silence, several of the lords in the room
exploded into laughter. The Prince laughed as well. Then after the
mirth had subsided, he said, "My lord sand gentlemen. Despite the
levity, every word Captain von Darkmoor has uttered is true. More: if
anything, he underestimates the foe."

"What are we to do?" asked
another well-dressed lord who looked as if he had never held a sword in
his life.

"My lord, we will fight. Here we stand, at Darkmoor and
along Nightmare Ridge. And we will not be budged, for if the enemy
passes us, the Kingdom is doomed. It will be victory or death. There
is no other choice." The room fell silent.

TWENTY-FIVE

Revelations

Drums sounded. Trumpets blew and men ran along the walls of Darkmoor.

Erik was dressed and out the door as fast as he could, racing for the
council hall He was the third man in the room after Patrick and
Greylock, and was only there for a few moments before a half-dozen
other nobles came running in. Manfred entered, calmly looked around,
and said, "They are here." No one had to ask who 'they' were. Patrick
wasted no time.

"Owen," he said, "I want you and Earl Montrose to ride
to the south, along the eastern ridge. Take a company and see what we
have on that flank. If the entire southern reserves are gone, as
reported, I need to know what the enemy brings north. Don't engage
unless you're attacked, and then try to get back here as fast as
possible. If you run into any remnants of the southern reserves, bring
them back with you." At that moment, Arutha, Lord Vencar, and his two
sons entered the room. Erik nodded.

"Arutha," said Patrick.

"Your
arrival is timely. I want you to oversee the administration of the
city. We're going to lock down the gates, and we'll need to control
the consumption of food and make sure no one compromises our security
by leaving or smuggling." He turned to Manfred.

"You're in charge of
the citadel, as is your right, but I will oversee the conduct of the
war from these headquarters." Manfred nodded.

"Highness."

The Prince turned to Erik.

"Erik, I want you to ride north, and
oversee the northern defenses. If the south is as weak as I fear, we
need to ensure we have no breaches in the north." He looked Erik in the
eyes, and said, "Unless you're recalled, defend to the last man." Erik
nodded.

"I understand." He didn't wait for further orders but hurried
out of the room, to the bailey, asked for his horse, and rode out. An
hour later he was moving on one of the newly constructed roads, cut
into the eastern face of the mountains, a dozen yards below the ridge
line. Along the peaks above him, he could see defensive emplacements.

He could tell the men were ready, as they ran, carrying supplies,
shouting commands, and readying weapons. The fighting hadn't started
yet, but Erik could tell the enemy was close. He rode as fast as he
could. He studied every foot of the ridge above as he rode past. While
the front was a hundred miles long, roughly fifty on each side of
Darkmoor, the northern command post was located twenty miles north of
the city. Erik reached it by midday. Jadow Shati stood outside a small
command tent, obviously distressed, with a short man wearing the tabard
of Loridl. When Erik entered the camp, Jadow said, "Man, I am glad to
see you." Handing the reins of his horse to a soldier Erik said, "Why?"

Jadow indicated the other man with a nod of his head. The short man,
who had a square head, short-cropped grey hair, and a square jaw, said,
"Who the hell are you?" Erik realized that he had dressed in his blue
tunic and yellow leggings, and had left his uniform back in Castle
Darkmoor. Quickly sizing up the short man, Erik said, "I'm your
commander. Who the hell are you?" The man blinked.

"I'm the Earl of
Loridl!" Then he lowered his voice.

"And you are?"

"Knight-Captain von Darkmoor, of the Prince's Special Command, and I'm
to command the northern flank."

"Well, we'll just see about that," said
the man, his face growing florid.

"I'm sworn vassal to the Duke of
Yabon, and I'll take orders from the Prince of Krondor, but this
special army and you jumped-up boy officers are more than I can
stomach! I'll be down to Darkmoor to talk to the Prince himself."

"My lord," said Erik in a soft but firm tone. what?"

"Have a nice
ride." After the man left, Jadow burst out laughing.

"Man, that little
fellow is about as pleasant as a boil on the ass. I hope he stays away
for a month."

"Well, given the mood our Prince was in when I left, I
suspect his lordship will find little sympathy for his protests. Now,
what's the situation?"

"As best I can judge, we have about six
companies intact north of here, with ample supplies down at the bottom
of the ridge. Some of the boys are pretty beat up, lads who were
fighting along the northern front for the last month, but there are
some fresh reserves, so overall we're in good shape. The bad news is
we're facing Duko."

"I've heard of him. What do we know?"

"Not much.

Rumors. A few things we've learned from captives. He's smart, has
survived where some others, like Gapi, haven't, and he's still able to
command a large contingency. Man, I don't know. If I was to guess, I
think he's the best they've got after Fadawah."

"Well then," said Erik,
"I guess we have our work cut out for us." Jadow grinned.

"The nice
part is we're where they want to be, and they're not."

"You have a
happy facility to put things in perspective," said Erik. Jadow asked,
"What are the orders?,"

"Simple. Kill anyone who comes up that slope."

"I like simple," said
the former mercenary from the Vale of Dreams.

"I'm tired of this
moving backward."

"No more of that," said Erik- "From this point on, if
we move backward, we've lost."

"Well," said Jadow, 'we must make sure
we don't move backward." Erik said, "I couldn't have put it better
myself." A trumpet sounded and Jadow said, "Seems they're
coming." Erik drew his sword.

"Then let's greet them." As they climbed
the slope to the ridge line, Erik said, "Who else is on this flank?"

"Your old friend Alfred. He's got a company to the north of this one,
and then Harper, and Jerome, who's anchoring the end of the line.

Turner is to our south, Frazer after him, then it's the Prince's
command at the city." Erik smiled.

"With sergeants like that, how can
we lose?" Jadow grinned.

"How, indeed?" Erik looked down the western
slope, below the ridge line, and said, "A lot of men are about to die
over twenty yards of dirt." Jadow said, "That's the truth. But if what
Captain Calis told us, on that beach in Novindus, is true, it's a
pretty important twenty yards." Erik said, "No doubt about it." He
turned and looked down the slope at the men climbing toward him. The
archers started firing and Erik could feel the tension in his shoulders
as he waited for the first man to close, so he could engage the enemy
and get this matter over with. Then, as if men sprang from the ground,
a sea of attackers appeared before him. Erik began to fight.

Pug frowned.

"Unlock the Lifestone? How do you propose to do that?"

"What does it mean?" asked Tomas, looking at his son.

"Does that
release the Valheru?" Calis shook his head. He sighed, as if very
tired.

"I'm not sure I can answer either question. I don't know how
to unlock the forces inside this thing." He pointed at the pulsing
green stone, with the golden sword protruding from it.

"I just know
that once I begin, I should be able to manipulate the energies within."

"How do you know this?" asked Nakor.

Calis smiled at him and said, "As you are so fond of saying, "I just
know." But once I've begun, I may not be able to stop, so I want to be
certain I'm doing the correct thing." He pointed at the stone.

"This
is something that never should have been allowed." Tomas rubbed his
chin.

"Ashen-Shugar said basically the same thing to Draken-Korin."

"This is what caused the Chaos Wars," said Nakor. All eyes turned to
him. Tomas asked, "How can you be certain?"

"Think about it. You have
a Valheru's memory. Why was the Lifestone created?" Tomas let his mind
drift back, recalling memories he had first experienced fifty years
before, but memories that originated with a being ages dead. Suddenly
the memories washed over him.

A call came. Ashen-Shugar sat alone in his hall, deep below the
mountains. His mount, the golden dragon Shuruga, lay curled in sleep,
below the huge vertical shaft that gave him access to Midkemian skies.

It was a strange call, unlike any he had heard before. It was a
summoning, but one without the bloodlust that drew the Dragon Host
together to fly across the stars for pillage and plunder. In his hall,
Ashen-Shugar had found himself changing, as another presence, a being
named Tomas, had come to him, in thought, from a distant place. By
his
nature, he should have felt outrage, a murderous reaction to the
presence in his mind, yet this being, Tomas, seemed to be a part of "
as natural as his left hand. With a mental command he woke Shuruga, and
leaped upon the back of the great beast. The dragon jumped upward and
with mighty wings beat for the sky, heading out of the mountain hold
that was the domain of the Ruler of the Eagles' Reaches. Eastward he
flew above the range of mountains that would someday be known as the
Grey Towers, and over another range that would be called the Calastius
Mountains, to a vast plain, upon which the race met. He was the last
to arrive. He circled Shuruga and ordered the great dragon to descend.

Each Valheru waited as the mightiest among them touched down. In the
center of the circle stood a figure resplendent in black and orange
armor, Draken-Korin, who called himself the Lord of Tigers. Two of his
creatures, tigers bred by magic to walk upright and speak, stood on
either hand, snarling, with their powerful arms crossed. They were
objects of indifference to the Ruler of the Eagles' Reaches. Despite
their fierce appearance, these
lesser creatures danger to a Valheru. By cow- ken-Korin was the
strangest of the v things. No one knew from ~e was obsessed by
them.

le was different." a, wondered why?" she 0
',hugar never wondered oul, could e4..Ie-I Then, as h to
be a race with a attackers appeare, ly, what do you

Pug frowned.

"Unlock &c l~ to do that?"

Tomas said, "Draken-Korin summoned the race, and he proclaimed that the
order of the universe was changing. The old gods, Rathar and Mythar,
had fled..." Tomas's eyes widened.

"He said, "or have been deposed"!"

"Deposed?" said Miranda.

"By the Controller Gods." said Dominic.

"Wait!" said Tomas.

"Let me remember!" He closed his eyes.

'.. . but for whatever cause, Order and Chaos have no more meaning.

Mythar let loose the strands of power and from them the new gods
arise," said Draken-Korin. Ashen-Shugar studied the one who was his
brother-son, and saw something in his eyes, something that he now
realized was madness.

"Without Rathar to knit the strands of power
together, these beings will seize the power and establish an order. it
is an order we must oppose. These gods are knowing, are aware, and are
challenging us."

"When one appears, kill it," answered Ashen-Shugar,
unconcerned by Draken-Korin's words. Draken-Korin turned to face his
brother-father, and said, "They are our match in power. For the moment
they struggle among themselves, seeking each dominion over the others
as they strive to gain mastery of that power left by the Two Blind Gods
of the Beginning. But that struggle will end, and then shall our
existence be threatened. They will turn their might upon us."

Ashen-Shugar said, "What cause for concern? We fight as we have
before. That is the answer."

"No, there needs be more. We might fight
them in harmony, not each alone, lest they overwhelm us." Ashen-Shugar
said, "Do what you will. I will have none of it." He mounted Shuruga
and flew home.

Tomas said, "I never dreamed."

"What?" asked Pug.

IT, I I

Looking at Miranda, Tomas said, "Your father knew. He wasn't just
creating a weapon to balk the Tsurani conquest or even to stem the
return of the Dragon Host to Midkemia, he was preparing us for this
fight!"

"Explain, please, said Nakor.

"Something changed Draken-Korin,"
said Tomas.

"He was mad by the standards of his own race. He had
these strange notions and odd compulsions. He was the driving force
behind the creation of the Lifestone. He masterminded the race's
vesting their powers in that crystal."

"No," said Calis quietly.

"He
was a tool. Something else was the mastermind."

"Who?"

"Not who," said
Nakor.

"What?" All eyes turned toward the strange little man.

"What
do you mean?" asked Pug. Nakor said, "In each of you, something is
locked away." He moved his hand in an arc, and a golden nimbus of light
sprang up, washing the room. Pug's eyes widened, for while he knew
that Nakor had far more power than he ever admitted to, this shell of
protection was something beyond Pug's experience. He recognized it for
what it was, but had no idea how the little man could so effortlessly
create it. Miranda asked, "Who are you?" Nakor grinned.

"Just a man,
as I have said many times."

"But you are more," Dominic said flatly.

Nakor shrugged.

"I am also a tool, in a sense." He looked at each of
them in turn.

"Several of you have heard me speak of my life, before,
and all I told you is true. When I was a child, powers came to me and
my father threw me out of the village for my pranks. I traveled and
learned, and have been much as you see me now for most of my life.

"I
met a woman named Joma, whom I thought I loved

young men often think physical hunger is love and in my vanity
thought she loved me; we also can rationalize anything when it suits
our purposes. Look at me." He smiled.

"A young and beautiful woman
falling under my charms?" He shrugged.

"It doesn't matter. What
matters is that I was left a wiser, if sadder man." He looked at
Miranda.

"You know what came next. Your mother came looking for
someone who could teach her more than I, for
as I have always said, I am but a man who knows a few tricks." Miranda
asked, "Why do I get the feeling you may be the only person on this
planet who would use that description?"

"Be that as it may," continued
Nakor, "Joma became Macros's wife, and I became a traveler." He looked
around the room.

"My life changed one day when I slept in a burned-out
shack on the side of the hills in Isalani- I had always had the ability
to do tricks, little things, but that night I dreamed, and in my dream
I was told to seek out something."

"What?" asked Pug. Nakor opened his
ever-present carryall and reached deep inside. It was not the first
time Pug had seen the little man stick his arm inside up to the
shoulder, when, from the outside, the bag appeared to be only two feet
deep. Pug knew there was something inside, like a tiny rift, that
allowed Nakor to reach through the bag to a location where he had
stored an astonishing assortment of items.

"Ah." he said, pulling out
an item.

"I found this." Dominic's eyes widened, while the others
stared in curiosity. Nakor held a cylinder, perhaps eighteen inches
long, four inches in diameter. It was a cold, greyish-white color. At
each end of the cylinder was a knurled knob.

"What is it?" asked
Miranda.

"A very useful thing," said Nakor.

"You would be astonished
at the information this object has." He twisted one

-"I562

~end, and the device opened with a click; a half-inch section :~of the
cylinder detached from the side, allowing Nakor to 'pull out a long
piece of what appeared to be a pale, translucent white parchment or
paper.

"If you pull long enough, you can fill up this) room He pulled
and pulled, and the device continued to emit the long paper.

"This
stuff is amazing . You can't cut it or tear it or write on it. Dirt
doesn't 'stick. "The paper was covered in fine writing.

"But whatever
"you want to know about, I bet it's in here."

"Amazing," said Pug. He
looked at the writing and said, "What language is that?"

"I don't
know," said Nakor, 'but over the years, I've gained the ability to read
some of itHe turned the knurled end and the page slid back into the
cylinder, and again it was without apparent line or flaw, a single
piece of unbroken metal.

"I just wish I could figure out how to make
it work the way it was supposed to."

"You would have to study years,
most of the surviving lore of the God of Knowledge. It's the Codex,"
said Dominic in a reverent tone.

"And that's ... ?" asked Miranda.

"The
Codex of Wodar-Hospur. It was assumed to be lost."

"Well, I found it,"
said Nakor.

"The problem is, when I open it, it tells about things,
but never the same thing twice. Som. Some,-'

I was, out of the,- 0 ;~p and have been life.

"I met a woman there.,

kate rial is impossible to understand. ,ig. I think there is a way to
get it to you want, but I haven't figured it You would be astonished at
what th this under your head." wn as the Thief of Dreams. e robbed of
their dreams ad." erson to call me a little d sleeping with it in it
took me a while, eamin
gHe shook
ii
his head.

"Strange things happen when you don't dream at night. I was
beginning to hallucinate, and, frankly, I was getting a little
irritable."

"What is it asked Miranda.

"These names mean nothing to
me."

"It is the most holy artifact from the temple of the God of
Knowledge,"said Dominic. "It is a text with all the knowledge of the
temple of the Lost God of Knowledge contained upon it. Wodar-Hospur
was a Lesser God, but one deemed critical to understanding all the
issues we are discussing now," said Dominic.

"What this vagabond has
been carrying around for who knows how many years is an item that would
have provided an amazing amount of insight and knowledge to our order
if we had possessed it." Nakor said, "Perhaps, but then again, you
might have sat around for a couple of centuries staring at the thing
without ever really understanding what it does." Nakor looked around
the room.

"Knowledge is power. You all have power. I have knowledge.

Together we have the means of defeating the Nameless One." As Nakor
said that phrase, it was as if the room darkened a little and turned
slightly colder.

"The Nameless One?" asked Miranda, and suddenly she
touched her temple.

"There's something I know, but ... don't know."

Nakor nodded.

"I won't name him." He looked pointedly at Dominic.

"There are advantages to being a little mad and to having tremendous
knowledge." He looked around the room and said, "Here is the rest of
the story.

"The Nameless One is nameless, because even to imagine his
name is to call his attention to you. If you do, you're lost, for no
mortal creature has the power to resist his call' Nakor grinned
-'except me." Dominic said, "How is this possible?"

"As I said, it
helps to be a little mad. And there are tricks that can let you think
of one thing without knowing you're
i the Valheru rose to isued." He looked at
presents
really thinking of it, so when the Nameless One hears his name and
comes looking for you, you're not there for him to find. Even a
Greater God can't find where you're not." Miranda said "I t tall
confused." '?~ O'd Y "You are not alone, said Pug. Calis smiled.

"I
think I'm following." Nakor grinned at him.

"That's because you're
young." He looked at the others.

"When the Chaos Wars raged, one of
the Controller Gods, this Nameless One, whose nature is what you would
call evil, attempted to upset the balance of things.

"It was he who
warped Draken-Korin and who set the Valheru on their selfdestructive
path. What they did not realize was that the gods were no threat to
them. I imagine this would have been nearly an impossible concept to
them, but the gods would have been just as satisfied with Valheru
worshipers as with humans, elves, goblins and the other intelligent
races who live here now." Tomas smiled.

"I think itto say you're
right.

"Impossible concept" Anyway," CO-~. challen
out of th, and have bee.-',5, life.

"I met a woman nai~L,

He closed his eyes opened them and

'akor.

"The gods to Midkemia, affect millions
they stretch
g around a rspective,

certain aspects of reality, a sense of something profoundly basic,
unsullied, without flaw, absolutely perfect, and that aspect of reality
exists in a lot more places than just around the corner from here." He
looked at Miranda.

"Which is to say, if you tried to destroy Sung the
White, you'd not only create havoc on "Midkemia but create problems for
a very large portion of reality."

"Everything's connected," said Calis,
intertwining his fingers.

"You can't disrupt one part of reality
without doing harm to another."

"So, this Nameless One," said Nakor,
'attempts to disrupt things, to steal an advantage, to create a
disharmony in the order of things. He influenced Draken-Korin and the
Valheru to do two things: they created the Lifestone and they rose to
fight the gods.

"As a result, a lot of the Lesser Gods were destroyed,
or at least as destroyed as a god gets, which means they won't be
around for a long time; and others were ... changed. KWian has
sovereignty over the Oceans, where Eortis once ruled. It sort of makes
sense, as she's a goddess of nature, but it's really not her job."

Nakor shook his head.

"You know. this Nameless One, he did some
serious damage, all things considered, and we're still dealing with
it." He pointed in the general direction of Darkmoor, to the west. and
said, "A big demon is coming this way. with an army, and he wants that
thing." Nakor pointed at the Lifestone.

"He probably doesn't even know
why he wants to come here, or even that this Lifestone is here. And
once he gets here, he won't know what he's going to do with it. But
he'll do anything to get it. And once he has i Calis said, "He'll end
life on this world as we know it." All eyes turned toward Calis.

"It's
the nature of the Lifestone that everything in this world is connected.

If you disrupt it, everything dies." that's the trap," said Nakor.

"That's what Draken-Korin didn't understand when he thought he'd
created the
perfect weapon. He thought that if he unleashed the power of the
Lifestone, the energy would blast away the gods, or something like
that." He glanced at Tomas. Tomas nodded. ? "But it doesn't work like
that," said Nakor.

"What would have happened is the world would have
died, save for the gods. The Lesser Gods would have been weakened,
because there would have been no one around to worship them. But the
Controller Gods, they would have been just as they always were."

Miranda said, "I'm getting a headache. If nothing changed for the
Controller Gods, what good does all this do to this Nameless One?"

"Nothing," said Nakor.

"That's the irony. I think he imagined if I
may presume to think like a god that the general disruption would
somehow benefit his cause, would put the other Controller Gods at a
disadvantage."

"Wouldn't it?" asked Pug.

"No," said Dominic.

"Each god
is cast in a fixed role, and within that role they can act, but not
outside their nature." Miranda stood up, obviously exasperated.

"Then
what is going on? Why is this god acting outside his nature?"

"Because
he's mad," said Calis.

"The Days of the Mad God's Rage," said Tomas.

"That's the other name for the Chaos Wars."

"What drives a god to
madness?" asked Sho Pi. The others looked at the student, heretofore
silent. Nakor said, "You're not as stupid as I think, sometimes, boy.

That's a wonderful question." He looked around the room.

"Anyone have
an answer?" No one spoke. Nakor said, "Maybe it's in his nature, but
the Nameless One did things that defeated his own purpose. He created
a situation that resulted in his being cast out, imprisoned far away.

"Seven gods once lived in balance, each according to its nature.

Whatever the reason, the balance was upset. The Chaos Wars caused the
destruction of two of the Controllers, for they had to act to preserve
what was left of this world. The Matrix, Ishap, the most important god
of the seven, is gone. The Good Goddess, Arch-Indar, is also gone, and
the Nameless One had to be banished, confined by the other four. His
counterpart is dead and the god who kept all in balance is dead, so the
remaining four, AbremSev, Ev-dem, Graff, and Helbinor, had to act.

They had no
choice.

"So in the end, we're left with a world out of control,
unbalanced, lacking cohesion. This is why so many strange things occur
on Midkemia. It makes it an interesting place to live, but a little
dangerous." Pug said, "Is this speculation or do you know these
things?" Nakor pointed to the artifact.

"Dominic?"

"He knows," said
the Abbot of Sarth.

"That device was carried by the High Priest of
Wodar-Hospur, the God of Knowledge. Reputedly, any question that a man
can ask is answered in the Codex. But the price to carry it is
extreme. It requires the combined effort of dozens of other clerics in
the temple to combat the madness that results from the High Priest's
inability to dream." He looked at the Isalani.

"Nakor, how did you
escape the madness?" Nakor grinned.

"Who said I did?" Pug said, "I
have often thought you a little odd, but never have I judged you truly
mad." Nakor said, "Well, the thing about madness is you can only be
crazy so long. After that you either kill yourself or you get better.

I got better." He grinned.

"It also helped when I stopped sleeping in
the same room with the damn thing." Sho Pi said, "How is it that you' he pointed to Tomas 'who wear the mantle of the Valheru, and you' he
pointed to Pug 'who were the master of two worlds of magic, and you'
he pointed at Nakor -'who possess this item, and Macros, who was
Sarig's agent, are all together at this point in history?"

"We are here
to help," said Nakor.

"The gods may have planned it this way, but for
whatever reason, we need to repair the damage done so many centuries
ago."

"Can we?" asked Miranda. Nakor said, "We cannot. Only one being
in this world possesses the nature to attempt this He turned and looked
at Calis.

"Can you?"

"I don't know," answered Calis.

"But I must
try." His eyes returned to the Lifestone.

"Very soon." Nakor said,
"And our job is to keep him alive long enough to try."

Erik stood behind the lines, watching as his men repulsed another
attack, waiting for another assault; Duko was good, and none of his
attacks during the day had been wasted effort. It had taken every
trick he knew and calling in the reserves for Erik to repulse him.

Runners carried messages from the other areas of the line, and the news
was not good. The Kingdom was holding, but the entire line was sorely
pressed. Patrick feared there was going to be a breakthrough
eventually. It was the reason he was withholding the elements of the
Army of the East that were camped below the eastern foothills. They
stood ready to respond to any incursion. A small army had been sent to
impose itself between any forces that might get through and the
abandoned city of Sethanon. It was late afternoon, and when Erik heard
the enemy trumpets sound the retreat, he breathed a sigh of relief. A
runner had returned from Darkmoor with his uniform, and he welcomed
fresh clothing. He was covered In dirt, blood, and smoke, and while he
didn't take the time to
bathe, a fresh shirt and trousers would improve his mood. After he had
changed, Jadow came into the tent and said, "We've got word some of the
enemy have slipped across the ridge line and are holed up in a little
canyon a mile north of here."

"Get a squad and go root them out," said
Erik.

"If you
need help, grab whoever's close by, but get those men dug out of
there." Jadow left and Erik sat down in the command tent. He pawed
through the pile of reports and dispatches, and found nothing that
required his immediate attention. He rose and left the tent and
hurried to where food was being served to the men. He refused to move
to the front of the line, so he was only a few feet away from getting
his rations when a horseman rode up. It was Dashel Jameson, who waved.

Erik looked at the bubbling pot of stew with some regret as he left the
line and said, "Hello." Dash dismounted.

"The Prince sent me to tell
you that the Earl of Loridl has been found other duties." Lowering his
voice, he said, "If any other noble rides through and troubles you, I'm
to ... facilitate." Erik said, "Thanks." He found the next question
awkward. Any word on ... your grandfather?" Dash's expression turned
grim.

"No. Nor my grandmother." He looked westward, facing toward
Krondor.

"We are resigned to the fact they chose to die together." He
sighed.

"My father is not dealing with this well, but he'll come out
of it soon." Dash shrugged.

"Truth to tell, I'm not dealing with it
particularly well, either." He looked at Erik.

"How can I help?"

"I
need someone to sort through all the dispatches as they arrive and save
me from the ones that don't need my attention. The command structure
along the ridge is very disorganized." Dash said, "We've lost a lot of
nobles, and many of their
seconds in command are garrison soldiers, with no field experience."

Erik said, "I've noticed." He looked at Dash.

"A lot of nobles?" Dash
looked disturbed.

"The Duke of the Southern Marches is dead. The Duke
of Yabon lies injured and may not live. At least a dozen earls and
barons are dead. More before this is through, I think He lowered his
voice.

"While you were up in the mountains training, Patrick ordered
all the lords who were coming here to leave one son home if they could.

If we survive, we're going to have a lot of new members of the
Congress of Lords next year. We're paying a bloody price in this war."

"That we are. "Th en the trumpets sounded and the alarm was raised as
another attack commenced.

"And that we will," said Erik as he pulled
his sword and hurried to his chosen place of command.

Calis said, "It's time." Pug moved to stand beside his old friend's son
and ask, "Are you certain?" Calis said, "Yes." He looked at his father,
and something passed between them; something silent but profound,
needing no words. Then he looked at Miranda, and she smiled at him.

Calis stood before the Lifestone, the huge green emerald pulsing with
energy. He said, "Father, take back your sword." Tomas didn't
hesitate. He leaped atop the dais upon which the stone rested and
placed a booted foot on the gem. He seized the hilt of his white and
gold sword and pulled. At first the sword resisted his efforts, then
suddenly it slid free. Tomas lifted his sword, feeling complete for the
first time since the end of the Riftwar, and a primal shout of victory
escaped his lips.

The gem began to pulse and Calis rested his hands upon it.

"I am
Valheru! I am human." He closed his eyes and said, "I am Eledhel'
Nakor said, "Interesting. His nature is unique and he possesses the
attributes of three races." Calis's eyes opened and he stared into the
gem.

"It's so obvious." he said, and he lowered his head until his
brow touched the gem.

"It's so easy!" Pug looked at Tomas and they
both asked the same silent question: What was so obvious and so easy?

d advisers, in a grand pavilion, surrounded by servants an the demon
Jakan seethed. Something called to him, something compelling and
demanding, something that insisted he move toward it. He did not know
what this thing was, but it haunted his dreams and sang to him. He
knew where it was, a place to the north and east, Sethanon, and he knew
that those who opposed him were denying him this thing. The self-styled
Demon King of Midkemia stood, and to those around him, the illusion of
the Emerald Queen still held. She seemed to command them to depart,
save those attendants she kept close by, the remaining Pantathian
serpent priest, one named Tithulta, and the human General , Fadawah.

They knew of the deception and were the. only survivors of that bloody
night when Jakan had devoured the Emerald Queen. It had been so easy.

She; had been alone with one of her victims, who died held in her arms
and legs as she drank his life from him. The demon had used his
growing powers to appear as one of her servants. He had slipped into
her tent and quickly killed her and her newest lover. The woman's
power was." significant, but wasted on keeping a youthful appearance.

The demon didn't understand this; it was so much easier to build an
illusion, as he had. in that moment of consuming the woman. the
demon
had encountered something alien, yet familiar. He had been touched by
this agency and knew its name, Nalar. But beyond knowing of its
presence, the mystic echoing within the Emerald) Queen the demon was
otherwise unconcerned. Maarg had made a pact with someone to have those
odd creatures who looked like Pantathians open the rift to the Saaur
world and to this world. But that was Maarg's worry. Let him rot on
Shila or return to the demon realm and its limited pleasures. Jakan
was the only one of his kind on this world, and his power was growing
by the day. He glanced at his left arm and saw the tremendous growth
that had occurred. The last human he had devoured he had swallowed
whole, and he had found a wonderful moment of delight as the creature
screamed for almost a full minute inside his gullet. And now he was
pleased to see the human's face appearing on his belly. He flexed his
shoulders and felt his great wings nearly touch the sides and tops of
the pavilion. He would have to have it enlarged. The illusion of the
Emerald Queen could move easily through the tent, but Jakan was now
close to twenty feet tall, and as long as he fed, he would continue to
grow. For a brief instant, he considered limiting his feeding, then
dismissed the idea as too alien. He ducked as he moved under the tent
flap held open for the Queen by her guards. Fadawah and Tithulta
appeared to be following at a respectable distance; no one without
imgic sight could see the mystic chains and collars Jakan had fashioned
to keep them in tow. The nearby army saw the Emerald Queen reach the
large tent she had erected for the wounded. She entered and found a
few soldiers attempting to tend the dying.

"Leave," she commanded, and
those able to do so obeyed, for most suspected what was about to
happen. Jakan moved to the first man, unconscious but still alive.

The demon scooped him up with one hand and bit his head off, swallowing
it. The blood and life forces that ran down the demon's throat filled
him with an almost painful pleasure. Never had a demon risen so
rapidly, become so powerful, and still had so much potential before
him. He would be the mightiest Demon King in the history of the
race! Nothing would withstand his march, and when he had devoured this
planet, he would use the rift knowledge these people possessed to reach
other worlds. Eventually, he thought, I will be a god! He turned
toward a man who could barely move for his injuries, but whose eyes
were wide with terror as he attempted to crawl away from the horror he
had just witnessed. Jakan realized that, in his bloodlust, he had let
his illusion drop, and now sick and dying men moaned in terror.

Grinning, with blood still running down his chin, Jakan moved to the
man and impaled him on a single talon, lifting him twitching before
him. Then with a snap, he devoured him, delighting in the feel of the
twitching body sliding down his huge gullet. Never has there been one
such as I, he thought. Jakan turned to his puppet, Fadawah, and said,
"Order the attack. We overrun the puny humans today." The vacant eyes
of Fadawah didn't-register any reaction. He turned and stuck his head
outside the tent and said, "Order all units to attack!" Soon, thought
Jakan, I will feast on thousands and then I will reach this place,
Sethanon, and see what it is that calls me there.

Calis smiled.

"It's like untying a knot!" He had two hands upon the
life stone and the pulsing green light was bathing him, washing over
him, infusing him. Though he didn't move a muscle, he had never looked
more animated, alive and powerful to those who knew him.

I-is father came to stand next to him and asked, "What do you see?"

Father," said Calis, enraptured, "I see everything." A six-foot-tall
spii~ *=g column of green energy sprang up atop the gem, and undulated
with a keening sound. Faces flickered in the flame, and Tomas's golden
blade came to the ready.

"The Valheru!" he said in a hoarse whisper,
his every sense tuned and ready for battle.

"No" said Calis.

"This is
but an echo of their former existence. What they sought to become
eluded them. What they returned to recover was never theirs." He
turned to look at his father.

"Stand ready."

"For what?"

"For the
change." Calis closed his eyes, and the flame shot upward, into the
ceiling of the cavern, and ran along the rocky surface, fanning out in
a circle. As it spread out from the point of impact, it thinned,
diminishing to nothing more than a faint green overlaying the golden
shimmer of Nakor's protective screen. Tomas dropped to his knees, the
sword falling from his hands, as a moan of pain escaped him. He
clutched his chest and stomach, as if in agony. Pug rushed to his
side, saying, "What is it?" Tomas's teeth were clenched and he shook.

He was unable to answer. Calis said, ^nut which was Valheru is returned
to the world." Pug left Tomas and came to Calis's side.

"Will he
live?"

"He will," answered Calis.

"He is more than Valheru. As am I."

Then Pug saw that Calis was also undergoing a painful transformation,
as whatever part of his heritage also was Valheru was being torn from
within. Perspiration ran down his forehead, and his arms trembled, but
his eyes were afire and his gaze was locked within the stone.

"What is happening?" Pug asked softly.

"Something that was taken from
this world is being returned to it," said Calis.

"I am the instrument
of that return." After a moment, tiny flecks of green light spun away
from the glowing nimbus that surrounded Calis and the stone, flying in
random directions. Pug dodged the first
spray of light and it went past him, then as he turned another struck
him in the chest. instead of its causing injury or pain, he felt
nothing but a sense of energy, something warm and healing passing
through him. He looked at Tomas, bent over in agony, but as the tiny
green flecks struck, Tomas began to recover. After a moment, he looked
up at his boyhood friend, and Pug saw his eyes were clear, free of
pain. Tomas rose and slowly moved over to Pug and Calis. He looked at
Pug, and the magician saw wonder in Tomas's eyes, wonder he had not
witnessed since Tomas had taken on the mantle of Ashen-Shugar, last of
the Valheru. For the first time in fifty years, Tomas looked more like
the boy from Crydee than Pug had ever seen him, and in a voice filled
with amazement, Tomas said, "My son is healing the world." Then, a cry
of joy, a note so profound Pug couldn't tell if it was a sound or a
feeling, rang through the cave, and the gem seemed to erupt, casting an
awe-inspiring flame of life throughout the room. Nakor nearly danced
in delight, while Dominic made the sign of his god. Nakor said, "We
don't need this," and dropped his spell of protection. As it vanished,
an echo from across the world, as black and evil as the previous note
had been alive and good, resonated, and Nakor's eyes widened.

"Oops!"

The demon's head came up from its feasting.

"No I' it roared as it
felt something being taken away from it. Sethanon. the voice in his
head screamed.

All dreams of power and primacy were forgotten. The mystic leashes to
the two slaves were released as the demon strode to the front of the
tent. Two guards turn v as Jakan emerged from the tent. They grew pale
and fled. General Fadawah blinked as if coming out of a daze, and he
saw the demon rip apart the entrance to the tent, sending tatters in
all directions. He only glimpsed the horror before it leaped to the
skies, but it was enough. The General turned to see the confused
Pantathian high priest, also coming out of his daze. Rage gripped the
General, and he pulled his decorative dagger. He raised it high and
plunged it between the neck and shoulder of the Pantathian, driving the
serpent priest to his knees. For a moment the creature rocked on his
knees, then he toppled over. Fadawah didn't even attempt to remove his
blade from the last dying member of the Pantathian race. He hurried
out the rear of the Queen's pavilion and found terrified officers
standing in the command tent. He looked to where their eyes were fixed
and saw the demon soaring toward the mountains, in the direction of the
castle at Darkmoor. One of the captains of the mercenary companies who
had risen to the staff of the Queen's army saw their commander before
him, and stammered out, "Orders, sir?" Fadawah said, "What has
happened? I have been in the power of a monster and don't know what
has happened. Tell me!"

"You just ordered a full-scale attack. All
units. We are engaging the enemy along the entire ridge."

"Damn!" said
the General. He had no idea how long he had been in thrall to the
demon, but he knew he had to discover quickly what had occurred. The
last thing he remembered clearly was being ini the Queen's tent outside
the City of the Serpent River; then he had lived in o timeless haze, a
vague dream of horror and fear, and now he
was on the other side of the world in the middle of a war and he had no
idea whom they were fighting, where his units were deployed, or if they
were winning or losing. And with the Queen dead, he had no idea why
they were continuing to fight. Looking at his staff he said, "Maps. I
want to see where we are, where every unit is, and what we know about
the enemy." As the staff jumped to obey, a few of them stealing
glances at the diminishing figure of the demon as it sped eastward,
Fadawah was consumed by one goal: Survival.

TWENTY-SIX

Confrontation

Erik fought. What had begun as a moderate push, a probing engagement to
discover potential weaknesses in the defenders' line, without warning
had turned into an all-out offensive. Erik kicked the man he had just
kffied, letting him roll back down the ridge into the trees below. All
along Nightmare Ridge, the Kingdom Army struggled with the invader, a
slaughter unmatched since the Riftwar. Erik looked around as he found
himself in a relative lull. The wounded and dead were being dragged
away by their comrades, and others quickly drank from water buckets
carried by the boys from the baggage trains. Jadow came running along,
Sergeant Harper behind him.

"They've turned our northern flank," said
Harper, blood splattered across his face.

"Jerome is dead, and his
entire company with him. Duko's got men on our side of the ridge and
they're pushing us to the south."

"Damn!" said Erik. He turned to a
runner and said, "Orders to the Flying Company-' Jadow interrupted.

"There is no Flying Company. I sent them in as soon as Harper reached
me. They're up there right now." Erik rubbed his face, feeling as if
fatigue were ground into his skin like grit. His thoughts were chaotic
from lack of sleep and constant fighting over the last two days.

"All
right," he said to the two sergeants.

"Take every third man from here,
and bolster the north. if you can't hold, pull
back, and when you get to the first defensible position on our side of
the ridge, facing north, dig in. You hold them there, and if they turn
east and go down the mountain, they're the Army of the East's problem."

He turned to the messenger and said, "Go to Darkmoor. Tell Prince
Patrick we have a turned flank on the north and are trying to dig in.

We need reinforcements. Got it?" The young soldier said, "Yes, sir."

saluted, and ran to his horse. Erik turned to see Jadow and Harper
already pulling every third man off the ridge and leading them
northward. He saw Dash standing a short way off, his sword drawn and
blood all over his well-cut tunic and trousers, and he said, "I thought
I told you to read dispatches." Dash smiled.

"There's nothing in there
that can't wait, and it seemed an extra sword was needed." Erik nodded.

-You have that right."

Suddenly the enemy was pushing over the ridge again, and Erik became
embroiled in the struggle.

Tomas said, "Something is coming." Pug said, "I can feel it, too." He
paused, then said, "I recognize that presence. It's Jakan!" Nakor
said, "Sho Pi, you and the good Abbot must hide." Sho Pi said, "I will
stay with you, Master." Nakor grabbed the younger man and propelled him
toward a hole in the wall. It was the dusty underground remnants of
the last battle that took place in the ancient city created by the
Valheru, beneath the destroyed city of Sethanon.

"My protection trick
could hide us from the Nameless One's hearing, but it can't stop an
angry demon who wants to come here. In there!" insisted Nakor.

"Hide
in that hole, for what is coming may destroy us all, but at least the
rest of us have some means to protect ourselves." The broken masonry
was the result of the titanic battle between the dragon Ryath, whose
sleeping body was now
occupied by the Oracle of Aal, and a Dreadlord, used by Nalar as a
distraction as the spirits of the Valheru attempted to reenter
"Midkemia.

"Get down and stay out of sight." Nakor hurried back to
stand next to Miranda, while Pug and Tomas took up stations on either
side of Calis. Miranda said, "Can you protect yourself ?"

"I'm tougher
than I look," said Nakor, but his grin was gone. Calis was lost within
the dismantling of the Lifestone, his face a mix of rapture and calm.

His eyes were now fixed upon a spot at the center of the stone, which
was growing smaller as more and more shreds of the life energy flew
from it. Miranda said, "Whatever he's doing, it's making me feel good."

"If we weren't facing the coming rage of a Demon King, I think we'd be
enjoying this." Miranda felt a large speck of the green life force pass
through her stomach; and her eyes widened and she said oh!" Nakor
giggled.

"That looked interesting."

"It felt interesting," she said.

She ran her hand over her stomach. With a look of mixed apprehension
and uncertainty, Miranda said, "Something's going on." Nakor looked
around the hall, which was now almost universally illuminated in green
light, and he said, "The life structure of this world is being set
right. it's a healing, a rejuvenation. Ancient souls trapped in that
thing for centuries are being freed to return to the universe, as they
were intended to do." He glanced at Miranda.

"Some of the side-effects
might prove very unexpected." Miranda said "I don't doubt it." Tomas's
eyes narrowed and he tilted his head, as if listening to something.

"It's coming."

"What is?" asked Miranda.

"Jakan," said Pug.

"It can be
the only thing on this world
to disturb the harmony of life to the point where we can sense its
approach." Tomas held his sword.

"I think soon. Within the next hour,
two at the latest." Pug glanced at Calis, who was still consumed by his
task.

"Will he be finished?" Tomas said, "I do not know." They
waited.

Erik crouched low as another flight of arrows sped overhead. The
instant they had passed, his own archers rose and fired back. The
attack had picked up intensity all afternoon, and now he feared he was
about to lose domination of the ridge. Suddenly enemy soldiers were
atop the ridge and he was again facing hand-to-hand combat. The
determination of his men was unmatched, but their endurance was
flagging. No word had reached him from the north since he had sent
Jadow and Harper to reinforce the northern flank, and the men he had
sent were now critically needed here. Erik worried that he might have
compromised both positions in an attempt to protect them. The press of
battle took his mind off worries for a moment, as he felt the line
around him sag, as more and more of the enemy appeared and fewer and
fewer defenders stood next to him. Erik let his sword swing like a
scythe, cutting down attackers like wheat. He heard men scream, grunt,
and curse on all sides, and focused upon the moment. The battle was
now in that place he knew where no amount of coordination was possible;

the battle would be decided by the strength of the men who fought it.

if the defenders had more resolve, they would win. Erik saw two enemies
before him, and in that instant he felt in his soul that the battle was
lost. He struck down

582 RAY MONDE FEIST RAGE OF A DEMON
KING 583

the first man, shattering his shield with a tremendous blow, but barely
dodged a thrust by the second. Then a third man and a fourth came at
him, and in that moment, Erik knew e was going to die. He slashed out
and took the first man in the face, cutting his cheek to the bone,
which shattered as the blade dug in. He pulled back his sword and
tossed the man as a cat tosses a mouse, sending him into the two men
who came after. Erik knew it was just a matter of moments, and he was
determined to take as many of the enemy with him as possible before he
was overwhelmed. He struck out against one man, and took a sliding blow
to the ribs that caused him to turn suddenly, opening himself up to
another sword thrust. A blade struck his left arm, glancing off the
leather of his gauntlet to leave a long angry red cut on his forearm.

Erik took a glancing blow to the side of the head, and his knees
weakened. He couldn't stand upright, and as he tried to step back, his
heel slipped, saving his life. Erik fell back, struck rock and dirt,
and rolled head over heels a dozen yards. He came to rest on his back,
staring up over his boots at five enemy soldiers rushing down the hill
to end his existence. As the first man reached Erik, his sword held
high overhead to deliver a killing blow, a goose feather shaft appeared
in the man's neck. He seemed to take a step, go to one knee, then fall
face down at Erik's feet. Erik scrambled back as the other four men
turned, looking to their left, Erik's right, and another arrow lifted
an attacker off his feet, propelling him backward. only a longbow
could unleash that much power. Erik looked and saw a half-dozen men in
leather standing a dozen paces down the trail, firing at the attackers
while children ran forward. Erik blinked. They weren't children but
dwarves, dressed in armor and carrying war hammers and axes.

Shouting
their war cries, they were charging into the invaders, cutting them
down. Strong hands reached under Erik's shoulders and hauled him to his
feet.

"How are you, man?" asked a familiar voice, and Erik turned to
see the smiling face of Jadow Shatbetter," said Erik.

"Much better."

Sergeant Harper said, "We were being handed our heads, sir, when
suddenly the lads who were trying to kill us got very concerned about
their own rears." He grinned, ignoring the dried blood spattered on his
face.

"The dwarves and elves were coming down the ridge, doing a grand
job of slaughter as they went."

As if a wind blew away a cloud of smoke, the dwarves and elves cleared
the ridge before Erik's eyes. A dwarf wearing a large gold torque, and
carrying a hammer of obvious power, approached and asked, "You the
officer here?" Erik nodded.

"Sir?" The dwarf smiled. He set down his
hammer, drew himself up to his full height, slightly under five feet,
and slapped his chest with his balled fist.

"I am hight Dolgan, King
of the Dwarves of the West, chief of village Caldara, and Warleader of
the Grey Towers dwarven people!" Then he smiled and said, "It looks as
if you could use some help." Erik grinned.

"With thanks." An elf
approached and said, "I'm Galain. Tomas asked us to come through the
ridge line from above Hawk's Hollow, making sure that uninvited guests
weren't hanging about." Erik smiled.

"Your arrival was most timely."

"Well," said Dolgan.

"Better late than never, and it's still a bonny
fight. My lads will be pleased to thump a few heads." Lowering his
voice, he said, "Tomas has been forthright with what is at stake, and I
pledge we will keep these murderers on the west side of the ridge."

Erik said, Thank you." Jadow said, "You've got a few wounds here."

Erik sat on a rock and Jadow began field dressings. More of his men
came down the ridge from the north, and Harper reported, "We're rolling
them south, sir."

"Good," said Erik. 'keep the pressure on. If we can
collapse them down around Darkmoor, we can win this fight." Erik waited
until his bandages were finished, then stood and returned to his
observation point, a large rock that gave him a good view of the
immediate battlefield. Below the ridge line, the enemy was dug in
behind some sheltering rocks. The elven bowmen had turned the twenty
yards of open space above them into a killing ground, and none ventured
from behind the rocks. Erik looked around, and saw a boy holding his
horse, and signaled for him to be brought over. He told Jadow, "Send a
patrol up the line and make sure they're not trying to climb back up
there. I'm riding to Darkmoor to inform Patrick of the dwarves' and
elves' arrival." As he mounted his horse, he said, "King Dolgan "Just
Dolgan will do," interrupted Dolgan.

"No need for titles."

"Dolgan,
how many men are with you?"

"Three hundred dwarves and two hundred
elves. Enough for a right grand fight." Erik smiled.

"Fine." To
Harper, Erik said, "Hold here until I return." Harper said, "Right,
sir." Erik rode south, and as he did he saw that the assault on the
enemy's northern flank by the elves and dwarves had sent ripples down
the line, stalling the assault. A stable line was established, and
while the exchange of arrows was constant, the fighting was now
sporadic. He reached Darkmoor in an hour's time, and only a reinforced
barricade from the northern gate to the foothills north of the city
kept the route open. The enemy had burned every building in the foul
burg to the west, and the buildings to the north were abandoned.

Erik rode with an escort he had picked up at the outer limit of the
city's defense, men wearing the tabard of Darkmoor. The big northern
gate was barred, while the small sally port cut within the gate was
left open. Erik rode through, and on to the castle. He went straight
to the Prince's- conference chamber, and reported. After he told
Patrick of the arrival of the dwarves and elves, the Prince said, "Now
it makes sense.

We've been facing steady pressure all day." He pointed to a map.

"While you've freed up the northern flank, we've had reports from the
south that the same withdrawal along the ride is taking place' Erik
said, "The dwarves from Dorgin."

"We can assume that much," said the
Prince, ignoring the breach of protocol.

"That's putting inordinate
pressure on the center." He stuck a finger on the city of Darkmoor.

"We
have mounting attacks here, and we are close to losing the outer wall."

Erik looked around the room. He was the only other officer present,
the rest of the room being staffed by runners and scribes. Erik
volunteered, "The Army of the East?" Patrick said, "I sent word to
bring up the bulk of the army, but they won't be here until tomorrow
morning." He pointed to another map, one of the city.

"Here we have
three potential weaknesses." He outlined the overall defense of the
city and the areas of concern. Erik calculated. Let me bring down a
squad from the northern flank, and plug this breach here." He pointed
to the center of the three potential breaches.

"If we plug that, we
can move to either flank as needed."

"Can you get a squad down here in
time?" Erik motioned to a runner.

"With Your Highness's permission?"

Prince Patrick nodded. Erik said to the runner, "Head north, on the
fastest horse you can find, and tell Sergeant Jadow Shati to come
here
with as many mother-murderers as Harper can spare. He'll know what I
mean." The runner glanced at the Prince, who nodded, and the messenger
ran from the room. Patrick said, "Your wounds?" Erik looked at his
tbandaged lower left arm and ribs and said, "I got sloppy. I'm fine."

Patrick smiled.

"You don't look fine, Captain, but I'll take your word
for it." Just then Greylock entered the room, dirty, sweating, and
bloody. He said, "I need the reserves now, Highness." Patrick
shrugged.

"Take them. We have nothing left to lose." Erik glanced, at
the Prince and said, "I'll go with the General. I think we need every
sword at the wall." Patrick drew his sword and said, "Very well."

Greylock turned and grabbed the Prince of Krondor's tunic. To lay
hands on royalty was a hanging offense, but at that moment he wasn't a
General offering insult to his liege lord, he was the old Swordmaster
of Darkmoor training an impulsive young soldier.

"Highness, your
position is here. And if you go get yourself killed, and we win this
war, then I have some very difficult explaining to the King and I would
rather be spared that conversation with your father. Be a good lad and
do your job, and we'll do ours." He released Patrick's tunic, then
brushed aside an imaginary speck of dirt, saying, "I think that's it."

Turning toward the door, he said, "Erik, shall we go?" Erik followed,
leaving a chastened ruler, who swore as he realized his commander was
correct.

The demon bellowed as he swooped down toward the abandoned city of
Sethanon. He challenged any who might interfere with his goal, and
none answered. Jakan landed before a destroyed gate, leading into a
burned-out keep. He looked around and saw no one. Something called to
him and he felt frustrated he could
not locate the origin of the call. He turned, bellowing a challenge
toward every compass point. No one answered. Screaming his rage to the
sky, he set out searching, looking for something to fight someone to
kill, the source of the calling that sang to him, pulling him toward a
goal he didn't understand, but one which filled him with a hunger that
surpassed anything he had known before. Then a thought came to the
demon. The demon didn't recognize that the thought was not his own,
that a vast and evil being an unimaginable distance away was reaching
out to
plant in the demon's mind knowledge: how to reach the Lifestone.

Nakor looked upward. No one heard the demon roar, but they sensed it.

"He's near." Tomas nodded, holding the golden blade in his hand. He
glanced at Pug and said, "I didn't realize how much I missed this." Pug
said, "I really wish you didn't have to use it." Miranda said, "I feel
the same way." All waited as the demon above stalked the city,
searching for the source of his hunger.

"Maybe he won't find us,"
Nakor said.

"Want to bet on that?" asked Miranda. Nakor grinned.

"No."

Pug said, "If he doesn't figure out how to shift his place in time
slightly, he could look for us for years and not find us." Nakor said,
"If he's stupid, maybe, but I think the Nameless One might turn him in
the right direction."

"Right," said Miranda, glancing upward.

"You
would think of that." Again they felt the demon's rage, reverberating
through the ground into the chamber. Miranda looked at Calis, who stood
with eyes closed and hands on the Lifestone. The gem was now half the
size it
had been when they had found it, and the specks of green energy were
flying through them constantly. Miranda said, "Nakor, you look
younger." Nakor grinned. Am I handsome yet?" Miranda laughed.

"Hardly, but you do look younger."

"It's the Lifestone," said Pug.

"It's rejuvenating us." Miranda's forehead furrowed.

"That explains
it," she said as she put her hand on her stomach.

"What?" asked Nakor.

"Cramps. I haven't had them for a hundred and fifty years." Nakor
laughed. Suddenly the room erupted in a howl of rage, echoing through
the rocks from above.

"I think," said Nakor, 'he's very close."

Erik stood on the wall overlooking the main gate. A huge ram was being
rolled toward the outer wall and Manfred shouted, "Fire!" Catapults
unleashed a veritable rain of rocks, and many of the attackers were
struck down, but the ram rolled toward them. it had a wooden roof,
protecting the men below, and Manfred said, "If they breach this gate,
they're into the inner city. We can't fight house to house. We'll
have to fall back to the citadel." Erik said, "Reinforcements are on
the way."

"Well, they'd better get here in the next hour," said
Manfred. Otherwise we're going to be overrun." He turned and
shouted, "Oil!" Cauldrons of hot oil were poured over the wall,
showering scalding death over those below. Men screamed and some
retreated, but another wave rushed the wall, carrying scaling ladders.

"Down." shouted Greylock and Erik and his half-brother both acted
instinctively, ducking behind the wall over the main gate to the city
as a hundred arrows flew overhead.

Men who had been slow to react screamed, many falling from the wall
into the city streets. Manfred crouched next to Erik, both with their
backs against the cold stone of the city walls. Manfred looked around
at the injured and dying.

"If your reinforcements don't get here in
the next ten minutes, I'm giving the order to withdraw." Erik,
hunkering down, said, "They can't get here in ten minutes."

"Well, then
we'd better begin an orderly withdrawal."

He turned to a man in the tabard of Darkmoor, with a sergeant's
shevrons em ro ere a ove sea . e e men to withdraw by sections. Start
at the south wall, and get them to High Street. We'll fight our way
back from there. Destroy the catapults. We can't allow them to be
turned on us." A thunder of hooves and Erik risked a glance between
twmerlonsns. Saaur riders were massing at the far end of the gate.

Erik said, "Manfred, as soon as that gate is open, you're going to have
a company of Saaur riders coming through!" Manfred turned to glance
over the wall.

"Always wondered what they looked like' His eyes
widened.

"Mother of gods!"

"We need to leave now," suggested Erik.

Manfred agreed. To the sergeant he said, "Burn the catapults, then
general withdrawal. Every man for the citadel." Word was passed and
archers fired down into the streets below, while men with poles pushed
over scaling ladders. But as soon as the withdrawal began, ladders were
again put up and invaders began climbing. Manfred and Erik ran down the
stone steps to the street. Already chaos was let loose. A few
civilians who had been too stubborn or too stupid to evacuate were now
in the streets with sacks over their shoulders, running for the
citadel. Wounded soldiers were being carried by healthy ones, and a
few bowmen kept their heads and fired at the enemy as they came over
the wall, but generally the retreat was turning into a rout.

"Have you
seen Greylock?" demanded Manfred.

"Not since he went to look over the
southern wall."

"I hope he makes it," said Manfred. An arrow struck
the ground inches from his boot and he jumped. Erik grabbed him by the
sleeve and pulled him hard to the left, almost yanking him off balance,
as three more arrows flew through the spot he had just occupied.

"Thanks," Manfred panted as they hurried around a corner.

"Archers
usually work in groups," said Erik. They ran down a cross street and
turned to their right, then left again, and Erik could see the lights
from the citadel's highest tower above the rooftops. The streets
sloped upward, toward the old castle, and by the time they reached High
Street the thoroughfare was dogged with terrified refugees, out-of
-breath soldiers, and men carrying their wounded comrades.

"Make way."

shouted a voice and Erik saw Manfred had been recognized by one of
Darkmoor's soldiers.

"The Baron's here. Make way." Erik stayed close
to his half-brother. They bullied their way through the press and made
it to the edge of the drawbridge. Soldiers lined the sides of the
bridge, frantically waving through those moving across it. Erik and
Manfred both slumped to the cobbles in the bailey as soldiers ran to
their aid.

"Water," gasped the Baron. Erik gasped, "I forgot how tired
you can get running at this altitude."

"I forgot how tired you can get
just running," said Manfred. A bucket of water appeared and Manfred
drank from it,

59I

s it poured then passed it to Erik, who gulped from it a over his chest
and arms. Manfred shouted, "Sergeant!" His sergeant appeared, and said,
"M'lord?"

"Word to the lookout above. The moment he sees the enemy at
the other end of High Street, close the drawbridge."

Erik said, "Manfred, you can't wait that long. You've got to start
clearing it now or you'll never get it closed in time." He pointed to
the flood of humanity, the civilians with slow-moving carts, the old
men and women on foot, who were trying to squeeze through the
gatehouse, and who were only succeeding in getting in one another's
way.

"Look!" Manfred studied the situation, then said to the sergeant,
"Clear the drawbridge. Tell those on the other side to hurry to the
eastern gate. We can keep that one open a little longer. The others
will have to make do as best they can." Both men knew that being
trapped outside the citadel was a death sentence. Manfred stood and
motioned for Erik to follow.

"We'd better report to the Prince." Erik
rose and moved after his half-brother. They trudged through the
central entrance to the keep and from behind could hear the angry
shouts and tearful pleading of those being forced away from the
entrance in anticipation of the gate's being closed. Manfred led Erik
up the stairs to the office occupied by the Prince. Patrick looked up
and said, "Full retreat?" Manfred said, "Everyone is moving back here."

Patrick looked at Erik.

"Greylock?" Erik motioned toward the city.

"Out there somewhere." Patrick said, "Damn!" He glanced out the window
and saw fires beginning in the outer districts of the city.

"Is there
anything good in all of this?" Erik said, "The one good thing is
they're now fighting
on three fronts. We've got men along the ridges with the dwarves and
elves who will be harrying their flanks, and if we can hold out until
morning, the bulk of the Army of the East will be here." The Prince
motioned for them to sit and both men did. Manfred said,
"Unfortunately, the Army of the East will be on the wrong side of the
city walls, and unless someone slips out and opens the gates for them,
we may have a serious problem." Erik said, "Manfred, you have any
secret passageway to the eastern gates?" Manfred shook his head.

"Nothing that clever, sorry to admit. The palace is lousy with
bolt-holes and passages, but the old city walls are just solid stone
with a few storage houses built in. We'll have to wait, and when
morning comes, if we must, we might be able to sally forth and seize
the eastern gate closest to the citadel, letting our army in." Erik
said, "We have a long afternoon and a longer night ahead, Manfred."

Manfred said, "Highness?" Patrick remained calm in the face of all the
ill news. II need a situation report as quickly as you can get one to
me. You and Erik find out how many of our men made it back, how many
we think might still be out in the city fighting, and what we need to
do to defend this citadel. Food and water are not problems, as this
matter will be decided within one day." Erik and Manfred both rose,
bowed to the Prince, and departed. Outside, Manfred said, "I know the
disposition of the units assigned to the castle, so I'll start there.

You head down to the courtyard and see who got here, and get them
organized." Erik smiled.

"M'lord." Manfred looked at Erik.

"Mother
always feared you'd attempt to usurp the office of Baron. Right now
I'll give it to you."

Erik smiled.

"No thanks. Then I'd be the one to have to climb all
those stairs to the towers."

"As I suspected, a practical man." Manfred
turned to quickly climb the steps to the next level of the keep, while
Erik headed down toward the courtyard.

Suddenly it went quiet. Pug held up his hand and tilted his head as if
listening.

Then the demon stood in the room. Nakor whispered, "I didn't know
demons could transport themselves."

"Or time-shift," added Miranda.

Then the demon realized he wasn't alone in the cavern. A roar that
rattled the rock walls, causing dust to fall from cracks in the
ceiling, shook everyone to their bones. Pug unleashed his first spell,
while Tomas interposed himself between his son and the monster.

Crackling blue energies sprang up around Jakan, who howled. But he
wasn't screaming from pain but rather in outrage at what he saw before
him, Calis manipulating the Lifestone, freeing the trapped energies
within.

"No." the beast bellowed in the tongue of Novindus.

"It is
mine." To Pug, Jakan resembled Maarg, but a leaner, more muscularlooking version. There were no accumulated rolls of fat, nor was he
covered in as many tortured skins of his victims. Pug noticed that his
tail was pointed, lacking the serpent's head Maarg had possessed. Jakan
struck out at Tomas, but Tomas had reflexively put up his white shield,
causing the mighty blow to skid along the surface, leaving no mark on
the golden dragon embossed upon it. Then Tomas's blade slashed out,
and Jakan howled as he drew back, a venomous red-black poison dripping
from. his wound. it hissed and smoked where it hit the stones.

Miranda sent a stream of energies toward the creature,

and struck him hard enough to move him a little to his left. Tomas
seized the moment to strike while Jakan turned to see from where he new
attack came. Tomas's blade bit deep in the creature's right thigh, and
Jakan lashed out with his right hand, claws the size of daggers swiping
at Tomas. Tomas turned the attack and thrust, again, drawing poisonous
blood.

"Press the attack!" cried Nakor. Pug loosed a bolt of energy, a
blue spear of light that passed through the demon's wing, ripping a
hole the size of a man's fist. The demon stepped back, his wings
brushing against the stone wall of the cavern, and lashed out again at
Tomas. Tomas stepped back, preferring to dodge the blow rather than
attempt to block it. The creature hung back, obviously confused by the
sudden opposition. Then Nakor shouted, "It's healing." Pug watched and
saw that the first wound Tomas had caused was closing rapidly. Nakor
said, "The Lifestone! It's healing the wounds." Pug calculated. Calis
had reduced the stone to less than a third its original size, and it
appeared that the diminution was accelerating, giving him hope they
would be done with this trial in less than an hour, but that meant
keeping the creature at bay until Calis was finished. Pug turned to
Miranda and said, "Rest. Tomas and I will try to keep this creature
away from Calis until we're done. If one of us falters, you must take
over." He turned and hurried to stand as close as he dared to the
monster, and he crossed his wrists. A stunning bolt of red light shot
out, striking Jakan hard enough in the face to slam him back into the
wall. Tomas didn't hesitate. He hurried forward and delivered a
murderous backhand slash with his sword, cutting deep into the
creature's leg and sending a gout of poisonous
blood spurting across the stones. The blood smoked upon contact and a
stench of rotting things filled the air. Jakan howled in a murderous
rage and leaped at Tomas. Tomas tried to move back and succeeded in
getting far enough distant that the demon didn't land atop him, but it
put Jakan close enough that he could attempt to seize Calis. A clawed
hand the size of a man shot out toward Calis,

and Tomas reacted by slashing down as hard as he could with his golden
sword. He hacked through a wrist four feet thick, and the creature
screamed in pain and pulled away, his hand severed from his body. A
stream of the foul black blood shot through the air and drenched Calis,
who screamed in pain and fell back from the Lifestone.

"Calis." shouted
Miranda and she and Nakor ran to him. Immediately Pug and Tomas threw
themselves into the battle. Energy lashed out, and Tomas struck with
his sword, forcing the wounded demon back. Jakan clutched the bleeding
stump of his arm to his chest, letting them force him to the wall.

Nakor hurried to Calis, grabbing one of his hands, while Miranda took
the other, and they dragged him out of the pool of black blood.

Instantly the Lifestone ceased being active. Calis lay on the floor
twitching as his skin burned, peeling as if he had been bathed in add.

He clenched his teeth and kept his eyes closed, and made low animal
noises of agony. Miranda and Nakor both felt their hands stinging and
quickly wiped their hands on their clothing. Holes appeared in the
fabric, but at least their hands stopped burning. Miranda looked around
and saw the servants of the Oracle huddling in the farthest corner of
the great hall, sheltered behind the recumbent form of the dragon. She
ran to them and said, "We need help!"

The oldest member of the band, the one who had spoken to her before,
said, There is nothing we can do." Miranda grabbed the old man by the
arm, hauling him to his feet.

"Think of something!" She dragged the
old man closer to the scene of battle and pointed to Calis, who lay
moaning. She pointed at him and said, "Help him." The old man motioned
for two others to come, and they managed to get Calis completely out of
the pool of demon blood. The leader motioned for them to carry Calis
around to the other side of the Lifestone and then he said to Nakor,
"If he can be made to work his will on the stone again, it may save
him." Nakor's eyebrows shot up and his eyes widened.

"Of course, the
healing energy." He looked at Miranda.

"It's like reiki! It serves
him first." Nakor turned to the two servants of the Oracle and said,
"Hold him close to the stone." They did so, though every movement
caused Calis to moan in agony. Nakor took Calis's hands, burned and
blistered as they were, and placed them on the surface of the stone.

Nakor said, "I hope this works." He made several passes in the air over
the hands, and muttered a few phrases, then he placed his hands over
Calis's. Nakor felt warmth under his hands, and looked down. A faint
green light bathed Calis's hands and his own.

"The energy flows," he
said. He waited for a minute while the battle between Pug, Tomas, and
the demon continued, neither side being able to gain the upper hand.

Nakor said to the two servants of the Oracle, "Hold him here. Keep him
in contact with the stone." Then he ran to Miranda's side. Miranda
said, "This isn't working."

"I know." Pug let loose with a blast of
mystic energy, invisible to the eye but causing the air to sizzle as it
struck the demon.

Tomas showed no sign of tiring, for his Valheru-created armor protected
him from any incidental harm. The demon would have to get claws on
Tomas to cause him serious
injury. Pug fell back.

"The best we can hope for is to keep him at
bay. How's Calis?" he asked Miranda. She pointed and Pug looked.

Calis sat upright, held in
place by the two servants, and a green glow was now suffusing the air
around him, shrouding him in an emerald- colored nimbus. Plug watched
for a moment, and said, "He's getting stronger." Nakor said, "Yes, as
he continues to hold the gem it heals him, and as it heals him he
becomes strong enough to continue his work on it. Look." Nakor
pointed. Calis's eyes were now open, and while his expression showed he
was still in a great deal of pain, Tomas's son was once again unlocking
the Lifestone. Again the room was filled with tiny motes of green
energy, life being returned to its rightful place. Pug pointed to the
demon's severed hand, which was fading from view, and to the bleeding
stump which was now in the process of growing a new one. Pug said,
"This is healing the demon, too." Then Pug's eyes widened. He said to
Miranda, "Do you know a powerful spell of binding?" Miranda said,
"Powerful enough for that thing?"

"You only need confine it for two
minutes." She looked dubious, but said, "I'll try."

"Tomas!" shouted
Pug.

"Keep it back for another minute." Pug closed his eyes and began
chanting while Miranda did the same. Suddenly crimson bands of energy
surrounded the creature, seizing him and crushing his mighty wings
across his back. Then they constricted, and Jakan howled in pain.

"Tomas I' Pug shouted.

"A killing blow." Tomas drew back his golden
blade, then plunged it deep between two of the crimson bands, almost to
the hilt,

IF

piercing whatever served as Jakan's heart. The demon's black eyes
widened, and blood began to flow from his mouth and nose. Tomas yanked
loose his sword. Pug dropped one hand and suddenly the room was still
as the demon vanished. They all stood in silence a moment, then Miranda
said, "Where is it?"

"Gone," said Pug.

"We couldn't kill it, but I
knew some place it couldn't survive." Nakor said, "Where?"

"I
transported it to the bottom of the ocean, between here and Novindus.

It's a trench more than three miles straight down." Pug suddenly felt
tired and sat down on the stone floor.

"I found it doing some random
searches of the planet years ago, and remembered what your father said
at the end." He looked at Miranda.

"He said, "They are creatures of
fire." She laughed 'm nervous exhaustion.

"Now I remember. I
wondered what he meant." Nakor sat down next to Pug and said, "That's
wonderful. I hadn't thought of that." He shook his head.

"It's
obvious."

"What's obvious?" said Tomas, putting away his sword and
coming to join them. Nakor said, "Even the biggest demon is little more
than a fire elemental at heart." Pug said, "Once I fought some air
elementals near Stardock and by forcing them into contact with the
water, destroyed them." He pointed to the space the demon had occupied
and said, "A dunking won't kill Jakan, but trying to swim upward
through three miles of seawater, with Miranda's hands around him and
Tomas's wound to his heart, will." Nakor said, "That's wonderful. Now
it's over."

"No," said Pug. He pointed to Calis. Calis now sat
unaided, and again had his eyes focused upon the heart of the
Lifestone, which was now less than
a ffifth its original size. Already the wounds on his face and hands
were fading as if they had not existed.

"He will be done soon, I
think," said Nakor.

"We can wait." Tomas said, "Men are losing their
lives while we wait." Nakor said, "It is a sad thing. But this is more
important." Dominic and Sho Pi came from their hiding place, and
Dominic said, "He's right. This may be the most important
thing ever done by a mortal on this world. Now the strangled life of
this world is set right, and the order of things will begin to return."

"Begin?" asked Miranda. Dominic nodded.

"You don't correct damage on
this scale quickly. It's been centuries, millennia, in the making.

But now the healing will begin. The way is open for the return of the
gods, now, where before the Nameless One blocked their return."

"How
long do we have to wait?" asked Miranda. Nakor laughed.

"Several
thousand years, but' he stood up 'each day things will be a little
better than the day before, and eventually the old gods will return,
and then this planet will become as it was supposed to be." Plug said,
"Do you think we'll ever find out what drove the Nameless One mad?"

Dominic said, "Some mysteries never are solved. And even if we found
the answer, we might never understand it." Nakor reached deep into his
bag and pulled out the Codex. He handed it to Dominic.

"You take
this. I think now you can do some good with it."

"What about you?"

asked Pug.

"As long as I've known you, I've judged you the most
curious individual on the planet. Don't you want to continue to
decipher that thing?" Nakor shrugged.

"I've been playing with it for
more than two hundred years. I'm bored. Besides, Sho Pi and I have
work to do."

"What sort of work?" asked Miranda. Nakor grinned.

"We have to found a
religion." IP,ug laughed.

"A Pew scam?"

"No, I'm serious, said Nakor,
attempting to look injured, and failing. He grinned.

"I'm the new
patriarch of the Order of Arch-in dar and this is my first disciple."

Dominic looked aghast, and Tomas laughed. Pug said, "Why?" Nakor said,
"If these old men can bring back the Matrix, someone still has to bring
back the Good Goddess, to offset the Nameless One. Else Ishap will
have nothing to balance the Nameless One with." Dominic said, "A ...
worthy ambition, but ... Miranda finished for him, "Ambitious?" Dominic
could only nod slightly.

"Very ambitious." Pug slapped Nakor on the
shoulder.

"Well, if anyone can do it, it's our friend here." Calis
said, "It's over." They turned to look at him, and as he spoke, he put
his hands under the tiny remnants of the Lifestone and with a gentle
motion, tossed it into the air. Like a thousand emerald butterflies,
the last of the life energy trapped for centuries flew, and then the
room was again dark. The servants of the Oracle relit torches that had
been allowed to go out during the battle, returning a gentle yellow to
the huge chamber. The jeweled drago~urb d :, s clothing was still
damaged from \~e appeared unharmed. He crossed embraced. credible.

You did what I was born to do.

Na<~, "No," si'k Calis now sA, upon the heart of
m today can be accused

60I

Nakor said, "I can. I don't have much. I just couldn't
think of a good way to get out of here." Miranda said, "Liar," and
pushed him playfully. Calis looked at his father and said, "Mother will
be surprised." Surprised at what?" asked Tomas. Pug said, "You look
different."

"Different? How?" Nakor reached into his bag and felt
around a moment, then produced a hand mirror, silver-backed glass.

"Here, take a look." Tomas took the mirror and his eyes widened as he
saw what his son had meant. Gone was the alien edge to his appearance,
what he judged the Valheru legacy. Now he looked mortal, a human male
with elvish ears. He looked at Calis and said, "You've changed as
well." Dominic said, "We've all changed." He pulled back his hood and
Pug said, "Your hair." Dominic said, Black again, right?"

"You look as
you did when we traveled to Kelewan, so many years ago." Miranda said,
"Give me that mirror," and snatched it out of Tomas's hand. She
inspected herself and said, "Gods. I look as if I'm twenty-five
again." Then she turned the mirror toward Pug and his eyes widened.

Looking back at him was a face he hadn't seen since he had returned
from Kelewan, a youthful man without a hint of grey in his hair or
beard.

"I'll be .. ." he said softly. Then he flexed his hand and
said, "I don't believe it."

"What?" asked Miranda.

"Years ago, I cut my
right hand, damaging it enough- I've never since enjoyed full strength
in it." He stared at it a moment, flexing his fingers again.

"I think
it's completely healed." Nakor said, "How old do I look?" He took the
mirror

~ II

from Miranda and inspected himself.

"Hmmm. I look about forty."

"You
seem disappointed," said Miranda.

"I was hoping I'd be handsome." Then
he grinned.

"But forty's not bad." Calis said, "I now understand what
that key was the Pantathians were forging with the captured life, and
what the alien presence was." Tomas said, "The Nameless One?" Calis
shook his head.

"No, some other presence. Perhaps those creatures who
created the rifts for the Pantathians. But one thing was clear, that
alien key would have permitted Maarg or Jakan to use the Lifestone."

"As a weapon?" asked Dominic.

"No," said Calis.

"As distilled life
energy. That's food to demons. Can you imagine Jakan ten times the
size and with a hundred times the power he had moments ago? That would
have been the result of a demon using that key to tap the Lifestone."

Miranda shook her head in amazement.

"And we still don't know how all
these different players, the demons, the Pantathians, those' she
looked at Pug 'what did you call them?"

"Shangri," answered Pug.

"Shangri, got together," finished Miranda. Pug said, "There are still
mysteries, but we have to put them aside for a while." Calis nodded.

"There is but one thing we need to do now."

"What's that?" said
Miranda. Calis's expression turned somber.

"We must stop a war."

TWENTY-SEVEN

Truth

A battle raged. It was a scene from hell, as men seethed in the city
streets under torchlight. The castle had held until nightfall, but the
enemy hadn't withdrawn under cover of darkness. It was obvious to Erik
that a change in command had taken place, for suddenly he was facing
the same motley mercenaries he had faced since the war began, but now
they were acting in coordination, using their numbers to good effect,
and grinding down the defenders. Erik directed his men along the
southern wall of the keep, as the invaders attempted to fill the moat
with anything that would give them a means of reaching the wall.

Furniture, broken wagons, dirt, anything they could find was being
thrown into the water. The defenders were shooting as many arrows as
humanly possible, but the attack was unrelenting. Manfred peered over
the wall at the sea of humanity, thousands of soldiers pressing toward
the ardent keep.

"This hardly looks good," he said.

"You have a knack
for understatement," said Erik. He put his hand on Manfred's
shoulders, pushing down slightly. Manfred ducked as some rocks thrown
by slingers on the roofs of the buildings on the other side of the moat
whizzed by.

"How do you do that?" asked Manfred.

"Do what?"

"Know when
to duck?"

Erik smiled.

"I saw the slingers crawling on the roof at sundown.

I've been keeping an eye on them. It gets to be a habit."

"If you live
long enough." Erik said, "What sort of shape are we in?"

"I just told
the Prince that if we can keep them from getting ladders to the wall,
we should hold until morning without much difficulty. The tricky part
is going to be getting to the eastern gate to admit the Armies of the
East." Erik said, "I told Patrick I'd lead a sally at dawn." Manfred
laughed.

"So did I."

"You can't," said Erik.

"Why not?"

"Because
you're the Baron and I'm just a.. "Bastard?"

"Yes." Manfred said, "But
you have a wife and I don't." Erik said, "That means nothing," and he
knew the words sounded just as hollow to Manfred'sears as they did to
his own.

"You'll have to come up with a better argument than that,"
said Manfred.

"How about you're a noble and I'm not? You have people
depending on you?"

"And you don't?" said Manfred.

"Besides, doesn't a
Knight-Captain in the Prince's Army carry the office of Court Baron
with it?"

"That's different. I don't have estates and tenants who
depend on my protection. I don't have to administer justice or sort
out legal wrangles the courts can't solve. I don't have cities and
towns, villages and ... It's not the same I' Manfred smiled.

"Are you
sure you wouldn't rather be Baron?" Erik said, "You have Father's
title."

"There is that." Manfred glanced over the wall and said, "Is
there no end to them?"

Erik said, "Not that you'd notice." For a moment, they rested,
crouching behind the wall. Erik said, "How is it you never married? I
thought the Duke of Ran had someone in mind for you." Manfred laughed.

"The lady came to visit and I think I failed to impress her." Erik
said, "I find that hard to believe." Manfred looked at his half
-brother.

"I thought you might deduce it, but obviously not." He
glanced around, making sure no one was climbing over the wall.

"When
you have a mother like mine, it tends to distort your opinion of women.

Stefan liked to hurt them. I prefer to avoid them."

Erik said, "Oh." Manfred laughed.

"If we survive, I'll tell you what.

You can do me a service. I'll marry some prize the Prince picks for
me, and you can father the next heir to the Barony of Darkmoor. It'll
be our secret, and I suspect the lady in question will thank me for
sending you to her bedchamber."

Erik laughed as a flight of arrows sped overhead.

"I don't think my
wife would approve." Then he said, "There's something you should know."

"What')' asked Manfred.

"You have a nephew." what?"

"The girl Stefan
raped, Rosalyn: she bore his baby."

"My gods!" said Manfred.

"Is it
certain?" Erik said, "Just one look. He's a von Darkmoor." Manfred
said, "Well, that changes things."

"How?" asked Erik.

"For certain one
of us must survive, else the lad will be left to Mother's tender
mercies." Erik laughed.

"Only if you tell her."

"Oh, she'll find out,
eventually. Mother may be crazy, but she's well connected and enjoys
her intrigue sHe lowered his voice, as if someone might overhear.

"There are
moments I think Father's seizures were Mother's doing."

"You think she
poisoned him?" Manfred said, "Sometime get me to tell you Mother's
family history. Poison played a large role in her great-grandfather' s
rise to his title." A huge boulder slammed into the citadel then,
rocking the outer keep wall.

"Well," said Manfred as he brushed off
the dust, 'seems our guests have found a catapult." Erik glanced over
and saw the war engine had been dragged out into the middle of High
Street. He motioned for a soldier and said, "Get word to Sergeant
Jadow to have that catapult taken care of." Another boulder came
slamming into the wall, and the soldiers in the street beyond the moat
let out a cheer.

"Fast!" The soldier ran into the keep. Manfred said,
"It's pretty straightforward, isn't it?" What?"

"They knock a hole in
the wall, fill up the moat with whatever they can throw in, and come
swarming over." Erik said, "Basically."

"Well, let's make it
interesting," said Manfred. He signaled to another of his soldiers,
and said, "Tell Sergeant Macafee to release the oil." The soldier ran
0"said, "Going to fire the moat?"

"Why not?" Eril.

or have iManfreu

Baron?" Erik said, "You I, "There is that." Man.-P,. Is there no end to
then~

and suddenly the war engine was ablaze. Erik's men on the walls of the
citadel let out a cheer. Erik said, "Well, that's that." Manfred said,
"When the oil in the moat is burned out, they'll start filling it in
again."

"That will keep them out until sunrise, though."

"Yes," said
Manfred.

"But it still doesn't solve one problem." The brothers looked
at each other and at the same
moment they both said, "The eastern gate."

Pug said, "Rejuvenation is all fine and wonderful, but I'm tired."

Tomas said, "I feel I need to sleep." Calis said, "Men are dying."

Tomas looked at his son and said, "I know. Even though the Lifestone
is no more, there's a very large army attempting to sack Darkmoor."

Calis said, "Even if he's free now of the demon's control, by
reputation Fadawah is not one to just quit and quietly withdraw." He
sighed.

"Only we in this room and a few others know of the real
stakes, but now we have a cunning, dangerous leader who still has most
of his army intact, and he controls most of the Western Realm." Pug
said, "This won't end quickly."

"Miranda said, "At least we can get the
Saaur out of the war." Pug said, "If I can convince them what Hanam
told me was true." Tomas said, "We can only try."

"How do we get
there?" asked Nakor.

"We don't," said Pug.

"Tomas and I will go to
Darkmoor. Unless we end this battle, there's no reason to take the rest
of you into harm's way." Calis said, "Remember, I'm the Prince's man."

Miranda said, "And you're not leaving me here."

in you keep the oil burning

9 the wall, and Erik said,

catapult atop the central els of oil. They came the street,
drenching

The oil spreading y fires nearby,

Nakor motioned to Sh Pi and Dominic, then grinned, and shrugged.

"Us?

Pug's eyes widened, and he let out a slightly exasperated breath.

"Very well. Gather around." Miranda turned to the leader of the
Oracle's servants and said, "Thank you for your help." The old man
bowed and said, "No, we thank you for saving us." Miranda hurried to
Pug's side, and the magician said, "Hold on." They all held hands and
suddenly they were standing in the courtyard of Villa Beata at
Sorcerer's Island.

"This isn't Darkmoor," said "Miranda.

"No," said
Pug.

"I've never been to Darkmoor. So unless you want to materialize
in the middle of the battle or inside a stone wall, you'll give me an
hour." Gathis hurried out of the house and welcomed them.

"Hot food
will be ready shortly," he said, ushering them inside. Tomas took aside
Pug and said, "Is this where you live?"

"Most of the time," said Pug.

Looking around the lovely estate, with the soft summer breeze from the
ocean blowing across the meadows, he said, "I should have visited you a
long time ago." Pug said, "We've changed. Until this morning, you
could not bring yourself to leave Elvandar." Tomas said, "We've both
lost a great deal. Even though my parents were fortunate and lived
long lives, everyone else we knew as boys in Crydee has long since
passed. But you, to have lost your children.. ." Pug nodded.

"I
sensed over the last dozen years or so that I would outlive both of
them, as Gamina and William aged and I didn't." Pug looked down at the
ground, and was silent for a moment, lost in thought. Then he said,
"Even though I expected it, the pain is still very real. I'll never
see my children again."

Tomas said, "I think I understand." The two old friends stood quietly
for a time, and Pug remained motionless. Then Pug looked up at the
stars.

"It's such a vast universe. Sometimes I feel so
insignificant."

"If what Nakor suspects about the nature of that
universe is correct, we are, all of us, at once insignificant and
important." Pug laughed.

"Only Nakor could come up with that." Tomas
said, "You've known him awhile. What do you make of him?" Pug put his
hand on his friend's arm and led him to the house.

"I'll tell you
while I work on getting us to Darkmoor. He's either the biggest
confidence man in history, or the most brilliant and original mind I've
ever encountered." Tomas said, "Or both?" Pug laughed.

"Or both," he
agreed as they entered the house.

Pug moved his hands in a circle and a huge sphere of bluish light,
shimmering with golden highlights, appeared. Taller than a man, it was
as wide as a six-passenger coach.

"What is it?" asked Miranda.

"It's
what is going to take us to Darkmoor." Pug said, "I don't know enough
about Darkmoor to get us anywhere safely within sight of the city. If
I don't have a pattern to fix on, a location I know well enough, well,
let's just say it's too dangerous."

"I know the procedure," said
Miranda.

"I thought we were coming here to get one of those Tsurani
devices."

"No good," said Nakor, taking his out of his bag, unless
you've got it set for a place known to you." He shook it.

"If it still
works." He laid the device aside. Nakor grinned.

"I'll fly with you in
your bubble."

"How do we get in?" asked Miranda.

"Just step inside,"
said Pug, and did so.

They followed him "I had to dig up the spell to make this thing, but
once I remembered how to do it'he waved his hands, and the sphere
lifted off the ground'it'seasy." Gathis waved good-bye as the four
friends flew high above the roof of the estate, and the sphere turned
on a long, curving flight toward Krondor.

"It'seasier if I follow
landmarks I know, like the King's Highway."

"How long to get to
Darkmoor?" asked Calis.

"We'll arrive a little after dawn," said Pug.

They sped across the sea, a hundred feet above the tops of the
whitecaps. As the last of Midkemia's three moons sank into the west,
the pre-dawn sky to the east lightened. A breeze blew, but they were
comfortable inside the sphere. They stood in a circle, each with just
enough room to move slightly. Miranda said, "It would be nice if we
could sit." Pug said, "After this is done, I'll happily loan you the
volume from which I got this spell, and if you can modify it to put
seats in it, feel free." Nakor laughed.

"How fast are we going?" asked
Tomas.

"As fast as the fastest bird," said Pug.

"We should be over
Krondor in an hour." The time passed, and they watched as the sky
turned from jet black to dark grey. As morning approached, they could
see the spindrift on the tops of the waves below, grey upon grey as the
sea churned beneath them.

"Are you sure that demon is dead?" asked
Nakor. Pug said, "He's dead. Water is anathema to his kind. He was
powerful enough to withstand it for a while. but not from that depth
with the wounds Tomas gave him."

"Look," said Miranda.

"Krondor." Pug
had them coming in a direct line from Sorcerer's Isle, so they
approached the Prince's City from almost directly west.

"Oh. gods!"

said Miranda.

Across the horizon, where once a large city had teemed life, only a
lifeless black spot on the horizon loomed.

Even at this hour of the morning, the city should have been alive with
lights, as workers made their way along the streets in the pre-dawn
gloom. Boats should have been leaving from the fishing village outside
the northern wall and ships departing for distant ports should have
been setting sail.

"There's nothing left," said Nakor.

Calis said, "Something's moving." He pointed up the coast, and in the
murky light they could see a large company of horsemen moving along the
sea road.

"It looks like some of the Queen's army has deserted," said
Sho Pi.

"Now that they're free of the demon's control, that should
become more commonplace," said Pug. As they sped over the outer
breakwater of Krondor harbor, the masts of burned ships stuck up above
the bay, like a forest of blackened bones reaching for the sky. Beyond
the water, everything was burned beyond recognition. The docks were
gone, as were most of the buildings. Here and there a portion of a wall
stuck up, but mostly it was rubble. The Prince's palace was
recognizable from its position atop the southern point of the harbor,
high atop the hill that originally gave the first Prince of Krondor
command of the harbor.

"It'll be a long time before anyone uses that
harbor again," said Calis. Tomas put his hand on his son's shoulder.

He knew the destruction of the city he had sworn to protect burned
deeply. He also knew that Calis, better than anyone, understood what
had been achieved by the destruction of the Lifestone, yet he
recognized the pain Calis felt over the clear price paid by so many.

Pug willed the sphere along the King's Highway. For mile after mile
they witnessed wholesale destruction.

Every farm and house was burned, and so many bodies lined the way the
buzzards and crows couldn't fly for their gorging. Dominic said, "We
must get as many clerics as we can to come here, for plague will
certainly follow such carnage." Nakor said, "All of the Order of
Arch-Indar will help."

"Miranda said, "All two of you?" Even in the
midst of such destruction, Pug found it almost impossible not to laugh.

Tomas said, "Many of the priests will have perished during the
destruction of the city." Calis said, "Not really. We passed word to
the various temples months ago, and slowly they've been getting their
clerics to safety. Duke James knew we would need as much help after,
if we survived." Miranda said, "And it helps to stay on the good side
of the temples." Pug said, "In all my concern over the threat from the
Emerald Queen and the demon, and our fears over the Lifestone, I lost
sight of the simple fact that the Kingdom has been invaded by a very
large army." ca lis said, "I didn't." He pointed ahead.

"Look." They
were entering the foothhills of the mountains, and Pug saw a sea of
campfires, small shelters, and an occasional command tent. Then they
were suddenly speeding over a huge command pavilion, the size of a
large house. The closer they got to Darkmoor, the more mobilization
they saw.

"My gods," said Tomas.

"I've never seen such an army. Even
during the Riftwar the Tsurani never threw more than thirty thousand
men into the field, and never all in one place." Calis said, "They
brought almost a quarter-million men across the sea." Dispassionately
he said, "This below is the half we haven't killed yet."

"So many
deaths," said Nakor. He sighed with a heavy note of sadness.

"And for
no good reason."

if Tomas said, "Pug has heard me ask more than once there was ever a
good reason for war."

"Freedom," said Calis.

"Preserving what is
ours." Pug said, "Those are good reasons to resist. Even those aren't
good enough reasons to start a war." As the terrain rose, Pug kept the
sphere at an even height. But as they found more and more
men below
pointing at them, and some starting to shoot arrows, Pug elevated the
sphere. At cloud level, they had a panorama of the battlefield below.

"Incredible," said Dominic. An army of eighty or ninety thousand men
lay sprawled below them, like ants climbing up a hill. At the top of
the hill was the city of Darkmoor. The foul burg and most of the city
seemed to be in the enemy's hands, and the fighting throughout the
remainder of the city was fierce.

"Can we stop it?" asked Miranda.

Calis said, "I doubt it. The invaders are stuck on the wrong side of
the ocean with no food." He glanced at Pug and said, "Unless you have
some magic means of removing them back to Novindus." Pug said, "A few
at a time, perhaps, but ... nothing like
this." Tomas said, "Then we shall have to stop the fighting and sort it
all out after men are no longer killing one another."

"Do you see the
Saaur?" asked Pug. Tomas pointed to a corner of the city, near the
southwest, where a small market was packed with the huge green riders.

Pug stopped the sphere and said, "Let's see if we can get their
attention." He lowered the sphere, slowly, and as soon as the first
Saaur saw it, they loosed their arrows at the humans. But the arrows
struck the
walls of the sphere and bounced off, and Pug continued to lower the
sphere slowly, and after it was clear no immediate threat was offered
by the device, the arrows stopped.

Pug landed the sphere before a group of riders, the center most of whom
wore a particularly splendid horsehair plumed helmet, and who carried
an ornate shield and an ancient-looking sword Pug said, "Get ready in
case this doesn't work-. I. When the sphere vanished, Pug spoke in the
language of Yabon, closely related to the Novindus dialect.

"I seek
Jatuk, Sha-shah an of all the Saaur."

"I am Jatuk," said the impressive
rider.

"Who are you, wizard?"

"I am called Pug. I have come to you to
seek peace." The Saaur's expression was alien, but Pug sensed he was
being regarded with suspicion.

"Understand we are bound by oath to the
Emerald Queen and cannot make a separate peace." Pug said, "I bring
word from Hanam." The reptilian face then proved quite expressive, as
shock was clearly revealed in his features.

"Hanam is dead! He died
upon the world of my birth!"

"No," said Pug.

"Your father's Loremaster
used his arts to seize the mind and body of a demon, and in that body
he came to this land. He sought me out and we spoke. He is now dead,
but his soul is back on Shila, riding with the Sky Host." Jatuk urged
his mount forward, and when he was right 'before Plug, he looked down.

a towering presence.

"Say what you will.o Pug began. speaking of the
ancient war between good and evil, the insanity of the Priests of
Ahsart. and the betrayal of the Saaur by the Pantathians. At first
the Saaur warriors appeared dubious, but as Pug spoke he told them what
Hanam had told him to say. He concluded, "Hanam said to tell you that
you must know, as will Shadu, your Loremaster. Chiga, your Cupbearer,
and Monis, your Shieldbearer, that all I have said is true. The honor
of your race demands you accept the truth, and the betrayal
of your people is more than just lies. The Pantathians and the Emerald
Queen and the demons all have robbed you of your home-world. They
were the ones who destroyed Shila, and took from you, forever, your
birthright." Consternation was the reaction among the Saaur.

"Lies."

said one.

"Clever falsehoods fashioned by a master of evil arts." said
another. Jatuk held out his hand.

"No. There is a ring of truth. II
you are what you claim, if you have words from Hanam, then he must have
told you one thing to let me know this
is no clever lie." Pug nodded.

"He said to remind you of the day you
came to serve your father. You were the last of your father's sons to
serve. All your brothers were dead. You trembled in anticipation of
meeting your father, and there was one who took you aside, and spoke
softly into your ear to tell you all would be well." Jatuk said, "This
is true. But name the one who comforted me."

"Kaba, your father's
Shieldbearer, who told you what to say to your father. He said you
were to say, "Father, I am here to serve the race, to avenge my
brothers, and to do thy bidding." Jatuk leaned back, turned his face
to the sky, and screamed. It was an animal sound of pure rage and
anguish.

"We have been betrayed]' he roared. Without saying another
word to Pug he turned to his companions.

"Let it be known. Our bond
is severed. We serve no one but the Saaur. Let death be the reward
for those who have wronged us. Death to the Pantathians. Let no snake
survive. Death to the Emerald Queen and her servants!" Suddenly Saaur
riders were heading back toward the city gate, and Jatuk said, "Human,
when this is done, we will seek you out and make our peace, but there
is a terrible debt of blood that must be paid."

Tomas said, "Sha-shah an Your warriors have known years of fighting.

Put down your weapons. Withdraw from this fight. An army marches to
this city to drive out the invaders. Step aside and let your wives and
children k 0 their fathers are returning to them alive." :eenmoe:

Holding his sword like a live thing, Jatuk's eyes alight.

"This is
Tual-ma sok Blood Drinker in the ancient other thing it is the mark of
my tongue. More than any I office and the badge of my
people's honor. It will not be put aside until this wrong is righted."

Pug said, "Then know the Emerald Queen is dead. She was destroyed by a
demon." Jatuk looked as if he could barely contain himself.

"Demon!

Demons destroyed our world!"

"I know," said Pug, 'and the demon is also
dead."

"Then who is there to pay the price?" demanded the Sha-shah an
Tomas put away his sword.

"No one. They are all dead. If there are
any Pantathians alive they are hiding under the rocks of a distant
land. The only ones left living are the victims, the tools, the
dupes." The Saaur leader screamed in frustration to the skies.

"I will
have my revenge!" Pug shook his head.

"Spare your people, Jatuk."

"I
will have blood for blood." Tomas said, "Then go, but leave this city
in peace." Jatuk pointed his sword at Tomas.

"My soldiers will depart,
and no more will we trouble this place. But we are a nation without a
home, and our honor is stained. Only by blood can we cleanse that
stair." He turned his horse in the direction of the city gate and with
a hard kick sent the giant mount heading for it. The rest of his
company followed after, and while the war in the city raged on, the
southwest corner of Darkmoor was suddenly quiet. From behind the
barricade a voice said, "Are they gone?"

Pug motioned and Owen Greylock climbed over a pile of furniture, grain
sacks, and part of a wagon bed.

"Magician." said Owen.

"I think we owe
you thanks." Pug said, "No thanks needed. There's still fighting."

"If
you got rid of the Saaur, we thank you." Owen shook his head.

"Damn,
but they are a handful."

"Well, they're the invaders' handful," said
Tomas.

"They've been told of their betrayal and they are not happy." Owen
smiled . "That I can imagine. I've only seen a few

Saaur up close, and they don't strike me as having much of a sense of
humor." He turned to the men behind him and said, "Spread out and see
if you can find any more of our lads. The citadel is under attack, and
I mean to hit the enemy from behind." Tomas pulled his sword.

"I may
be of some help."

"Glad to have you," said Owen. He glanced up and
down Tomas's impressive six inches over six feet and said, "How do you
keep all that white clean?" Tomas laughed.

"It's a long story."fell
me after the battle," said Owen, motioning for his small band of
soldiers to follow him to the fighting around the citadel. Pug said,
"We'll see you later." Tomas asked, "Where are you going?"

"Inside the
keep, to see if I can end this madness."

Tomas nodded, turned and ran alongside owen Greylock. Pug motioned for
the others to hold hands. He fixed his vision upon the distant
citadel, and then, they all vanished.

Manfred and Erik both looked up as a shout came from above.

"What
now?" asked Erik, pulling his sword.

Men on the roof shouted, but now the tone was surprise rather than
alarm. Manfred pulled his own sword and stepped between Prince Patrick
and the door, in case the citadel had been breached.

6I8 RAY MONDE FEIST RAGE OF A DEMON
KING 6I9

Reaching a hall at the base of the keep's old central stairwell, Erik
saw Calis hurrying down the stone steps, with Nakor, Miranda and the
others behind. Erik grinned.

"Captain." Calis returned his smile and
said, "Captain." Erik said, "I am so pleased to see you. How did you
get here?" Calis pointed to Pug. Erik said, "Magician!" He looked
relieved.

"Is there anything you can do?" Pug said, "Yes, I could kill
every man outside the wall, but that includes any number of Kingdom
soldiers fighting house to house. I would rather think of a way to
stop the killing. The demon who led the Emerald Queen's army is dead.

The Lifestone is no more. There is no more reason for fighting." Erik
said, "Tell that to those murderers out there." Pug said, "That's the
problem. Even if I did, would they listen?" Calis said, "No. As I
said, they're hungry, and they know what's behind them. They have only
one way to go, ahead." Erik said, "If this demon you talked about is
dead, what about the Emerald Queen?"

"She's been dead for months," said
Pug.

"We'll explain later."

"What about Fadawah? Maybe we can
negotiate a truce with him? He's a murderous bastard, but he'd know
the old truce terms of Novindus," said Erik. Calis said, "Right now
Fadawah's got a very angry Saaur army looking for someone to vent that
anger on. He's their most likely candidate. If he's half as smart as
I think he is, he's already looking for a place to hole up in for the
winter." Nakor said, "Winter!" Pug said, "Yes?"

Nakor pushed past Calis and said to Erik, "Your original plan was to
hold this army here until winter, right?"

"Yes. We knew that once the
snows came, they'd be forced to withdraw." Nakor turned to Pug.

"If we
go to Stardock, can you bring us back here?"

"Yes," said Pug.

"Why?"

"No time to explain. Just do it." Pug looked at Miranda, Calis, and
the others, and shrugged. He put his hand on Nakor's shoulders and
they vanished.

"What was that about?" asked Patrick as he and Manfred
entered the hall. Calis said, "Highness, Baron," and nodded in
greeting.

"Captain," said Patrick.

"I hope you bring us some good
news."

"Well, for one thing, the major threat to all of us is now
over." Patrick said, "The Lifestone is safe?" Calis said, "It is no
more. It is safely undone and can no longer be used to harm anyone."

Patrick said, "Thank the gods!" Every member of the royal family knew
exactly what the stakes were since the Lifestone had been discovered
under Sethanon fifty years before.

"I feel like ordering a
celebration." The thunder of a catapult above firing on the attackers
added a counterpoint to his next remark.

"That just may be a bit
premature. We are waiting for the Armies of the East." Manfred put his
hand on Erik's shoulder.

"My brother and I were having an argument
about who was going to go open the eastern gate and let the Armies of
the East in to save us. Do you have a better plan?" Calis said, "No,
but I hope Nakor does." Miranda said, "I'm going to the roof to see if
the Armies of the East are outside the eastern gate." She looked at
Manfred and Erik like a couple of slow children and said,

62I

"It wouldn't do to go get yourselves killed opening the gate if the
Armies of the East weren't on the other side, would it?" Erik and
Manfred changed startled looks, but Miranda was already mounting the
stairs to the top of the keep.

Calis said, "I'll be back, my lord, Captain," and hurried after her.

They reached the top of the old keep, a relatively small area of the
large citadel. Two lookout positions were manned, directing fire from
two large catapults located on a roof segment a dozen feet below.

Miranda looked to the east and began a soft, almost inaudible, chant.

Then she opened her eyes wide and Calis was surprised to see they had
changed. Deep amber with vertical slits, they now resembled a bird of
prey's. She surveyed the horizon and after a moment closed her eyes
and rubbed them, and when she opened them they were normal again. She
said, "The Armies of the East are moving in stately fashion toward the
city. I would wager they might get here by sundown. More likely,
tomorrow at dawn." Calis swore.

"If we survive all this, remind me to
have some sharp words with the King about the sense of alacrity of some
of his Eastern Nobles." He leaned over the edge of the wall and looked
down as the fighting continued unabated. Men died as they attempted to
fill the moat, others as they attempted to prevent them.

"This is all
so pointless!" . Miranda put her arms around his waist and said, "You
can't save them all." Calis turned to take her in his arms.

"I've
missed you so very much." Miranda said, "You know that I'm going with
Pug."

"Yes, I know."

"He's my other half. I've hidden much of my life
from you, and someday, when there's time, I'll tell you the " truth of
who I am and why I've lied to protect my secrets, but
what I say to you now is the truth: I love you, Calis. You are one of
the best men I have known in a very long life." Calis looked at her,
studying her features as if trying to memorize them.

"But you love Pug
more." She nodded.

"I don't know if "more" is the way I'd say it.

He's what I need. I am what he needs, though he hasn't discovered that
yet; he's still got too much pain locked away." Calis nodded and held
her so her face was against his chest.

"William," he said softly.

"And Gamina. She and James stayed in Krondor." Calis closed his eyes.

"I didn't know." He sighed.

"It will take a while, but he'll heal," she
said. Then she stepped back and said, "And so will you." Calis smiled.

"I'm fine."

"No you're not." She poked him in the chest with a finger
and said, "You must make me a promise."

"What?"

"When we get done with
this war, you must go home to see your mother." Calis laughed.

"Why?"

"Just do it. Promise." He shrugged.

"Very well. I'll go home with my
father and I'll visit my mother. Anything else?"

"Yes," she said, 'but
I'll tell you later. We need to tell the Prince that help isn't just
outside the eastern wall." They returned to the conference room and
found everyone huddled around a table. The sound of fighting outside
was a constant, low rumble. Miranda told Patrick what she had seen,
and the Prince said, "Well, we must wait, then, for Pug to solve this
mess." An hour later, Pug, Nakor, and a half-dozen men in robes
appeared in the hall outside the room. Nakor ran in and said, "You've
got to watch this. Prince Patrick and the others hurried to where Pug
and

~~the other men in robes stood, and one of them said,

"Protest all you want, Chalmes," said Nakor.

"You're the ~",~,best
weather witch + Midkemian, even if you are a pain in the backside. Now
do it!" Chalmes pointed his finger at Nakor.

"You will stick by our
bargain?"

"Yes," said Nakor, 'of course. But we must end this fighting
first."

"Very well." The most senior magician from Stardock turned to
the other five who had accompanied him and said, "Once this has begun,
I will grow faint. If I falter, you will have to continue for me until
I recover." He turned to Nakor and said, "I need a table."

"This way,"
said Nakor. Chalmes took in his surroundings as he followed the others
back into the conference room. As he passed through the door he said,
"Excuse me?" ~~f I The Prince of Krondor said, "Yes?"

"Could you fetch
me a burning taper?" Patrick's eyebrows rose, and Manfred said, "I'll
see to it." Chalmes opened a bag he was holding. He took out a candle
and some other items, and said, "May I have the taper." The servant
produced it and Chalmes lit the candle. He drew around it with a waxy
stick, then set it down. Closing I. he began to chant. After that, a
cool breeze blew through the ~med.

"It's working." stand n t t Pug and
put her arm COUIZIt You do this?"

"I~One a hurricane, but that's pretty
"ked much weather magic. You?"

"Hd er." She lay her head on his you,
and so, of who I am anuj. ose in the room with
magic training could feel the energies growing as the very air became
electric. And colder. By the minute the air cooled, and from outside
the sounds of battle were punctuated by shouts of alarm. The room grew
colder and colder. Finally Manfred ordered coats brought for those
with him. Then the snow began to fall. Shouts of confusion issued on
both sides of the moat.

Erik said, "Pass the word to our own men that we're doing this,
Highness." Prince Patrick nodded, ordering a servant to pass the word
that the unusual weather was part of the defense of the castle.

Manfred hurried to the window and said, "Look!" They stood on the large
balcony, overlooking the outer bailey and the wall over the moat. A
few of the enemy ran across slippery rooftops opposite the keep. Erik
saw one man turn, draw his bow, and fire. As Erik started to shout,
"Down." the arrow struck. Erik's eyes widened in shock as he saw
Manfred struck in the neck. Pug unleashed a bolt of energy, and the
bowman fell from the roof. others urged the Prince away from the
balcony until the area outside was cleared of other archers. Erik
caught Manfred as he slid down the inside of the balcony wall. Erik
didn't have to examine his half-brother to know he was dead. Holding
Manfred, Erik quietly said, "Damn."

Within an hour it was clear that the attacking army was withdrawing, in
confusion. The defenders on the walls of the citadel, having heard the
weather was the Prince's plan, cheered. Chalmes began to go weak at the
knees, and Pug helped him to a chair, while another magician took over
the continued manipulation of the weather. Prince Patrick turned
to Pug as a servant rushed forward with some spiced wine for the
weakened Chalmes, and asked, "How big an area does this storm cover?"

"About five miles h) every direction, but we can enlarge it if you'd
like." Patrick shook his head in wonder.

"How long can you make it
last?" Pug smiled.

"That depends on how many magicians I need to drag
up here from Stardock." Patrick ran a hand over his face. Fatigue had
left dark circles under his eyes.

"Cousin Pug," he said, 'pardon the
observation, but ... are you younger than I remember?" Pug smiled.

"It's a long story. I'll tell you tonight." For another hour snow fell
in continuing flurries, until it was knee-deep in drifts along the
walls of the city. The sky was completely grey and birds sat in
confusion on the walls of the citadel, undecided if they should be
heading south. Then a band of men came trudging down the boulevard, and
Erik looked out to see they were led by Owen Greylock, with Tomas at
his side. Owen shouted up, "Will you lower the drawbridge! It's
damned cold out here." Erik laughed in relief, leaned over the balcony,
and shouted, "Lower the drawbridge."

TWENTY-EIGHT

Rebirth

Erik shivered. Darkmoor lay under a blanket of snow, though it was
beginning to melt as summer reasserted itself. Erik turned his back to
the wall, watching the city begin to come back to life, as the soldiers
of the Armies of the East cleared the streets of any stragglers from
the invading host who had tried to hole up in the burned-out buildings.

The eastern gates had been opened at dawn by Erik and a patrol, who had
easily reached them. The few elements of the invaders' army that were
still in the city gave them wide berth. They were too tired, cold,
hungry, and dispirited to offer much opposition after the sudden
snowfall. Erik turned to watch as new units of the King's Army marched
slowly into the city. His own men were checking in, slowly, as Patrick
dispatched newly arrived soldiers up and down Nightmare Ridge, and Erik
expected Jadow, Harper, and the other surviving sergeants to be in
Darkmoor soon. Word had arrived that the dwarves and elves
were also returning home. A familiar voice said, "Von Darkmoor." Erik
saw Jadow Shati standing below, waving.

"How did we do?"

"Well enough,
until this damnable snow arrived. I nearly froze my backside off I'
Erik hurried down the flight of steps next to the gatehouse and gripped
his old friend's hand. Wanting to get the bad news over first, he
said, "How many?"

"Too many," said Jadow.

"I won't have exact numbers for a few days,
but too damn many." He turned and watched as cavalry from Salador
entered, banners flapping in the morning air.

"We lost Harper two
nights ago."

"Damn," said Erik. Jadow said, "We're running short of
sergeants, Erik."

"Well, we'll just have to make sure you stay alive.o
"What are we to do next?"

"The Prince will tell uso Jadow said, "Will
we rest?"

"I think Patrick intends to let the Eastern Army drive the
invaders down the hill a bit. So, until you hear otherwise, find a
billet near the palace and get the men some food and blankets."

"Yes,
sir," said Jadow.

"They'll like that." Erik said.

"Send word to the
citadel where you are when you're situated. I've got some things to
do."

"Sir!" said Jadow, and he turned and hurried off. Erik returned
his attention to the eastern gate, and after a few minutes of watching
the procession of brightly colored uniforms, clean horses, and
unbloodied weapons, he turned and started walking back toward the
citadel.

Slowly the city began to revive. Three days after the last of the
invaders were reported to be safely on the far side of Ravensburg, Erik
heard a familiar sweet voice from the courtyard.

"Erik!" He spun and in
the wagon pulling into the castle, Kitty sat behind Roo and his wife,
next to their children and the Jacoby family. Erik almost knocked over
a squire as he raced down the steps to the courtyard, and was almost
knocked over in turn as his wife flew into his arms. He kissed her and
held her. Then he pushed her back to arm's length and said, "What are
you doing here?"

He looked at Roo.

"You were supposed to have everyone safely down at
Malac's Cross."

"Well we almost got there," said Roo. He jumped down
and said, "Then we ran into this army and, given the situation, I
judged it pretty safe tagging along behind them."

"Where's Luis?

Nathan, my mother?"

"They're on their way," said Roo.

"I sent them
down to Malac's Cross with a list while I stayed close to the army.

They should get here tomorrow."

"A list of what?"

"Things to bring to
Darkmoor," said Roo. He motioned for Karli and the others to get out.

He tapped Erik on the
chest as Kitty kissed his cheek.

"You and I have suffered a great deal
of financial loss, my friend." Erik laughed and kissed Kitty again.

Then he said, "That money I lent you I never expected to see it
again."

"Well, be that as it may," said Roo, 'you're a partner." He
threw his arm around Karli's waist, and Helen Jacoby came to stand next
to them.

"We're all partners."

"In what?" asked Erik.

"Avery, Jacoby,
and von Darkmoor. Milo and Nathan are loading up in Malac's Cross with
things that will be needed here, and I expect that shortly, we have a
brisk trade set up." Erik laughed.

"Roo, you'll never change." Karli
said, "He's changed." She blushed.

"We're going to have another baby."

Erik laughed.

"Well, go inside and I'll see what I can do about
getting us something to eat." They headed for the keep, and Erik looked
at Kitty.

"You have no idea how wonderful you look." She said, "No,
but I know how wonderful you look." Erik said, "Let'seat, then I'll
show you where I'm staying." He put his arm around her and they slowly
walked to the keep, just enjoying the nearness of each other.

Erik entered the room and Patrick said, "Captain! Is your family
settled in?" Everyone in the room laughed. Erik saw Owen, Calis,
Arutha, and the other surviving nobles of the Western Realm in the
conference room, and saw Pug and Miranda standing in an anteroom
beyond. Erik blushed.

"Yes, sir." He had introduced Kitty to the
Prince the night before. It had taken a messenger pounding on Erik's
door with a summons from the Prince to get Erik out of Kitty's arms
this morning. Nathan, Milo, Rosalyn, and the others had arrived, and
found their way to the keep. Roo was off bartering and making deals,
so the Prince had sent for Erik to find quarters for his family.

Patrick said, "I've got enough governance and military matters before
me to confound two Kings and a dozen Dukes, Erik, but I wanted to take
care of one issue before things dragged out much longer." The door
opened and Erik tensed as he saw a soldier escorting Mathilda into the
chamber. The old dowager Baroness bowed before the Prince, but when
her eyes met Erik's, they burned with hatred.

"Milady," said Patrick.

"I wanted you here so I could put a certain matter to rest."

"Highness?" asked Mathilda.

"It's fairly common knowledge you harbor
Erik von Darkmoor some ill will Mathilda interrupted.

"Don't use that
name! He doesn't deserve to be called von Darkmoor."

"Madam!" said
Patrick, slamming his hand on the table.

"You forget yourself ! I
forgive much because of your pain but speak cautiously." The old woman
almost bit her tongue to keep from speaking, but she bowed her head
slightly. Patrick's tone was ice.

"Your late husband pointedly
refused to deny Erik that name! More, he has earned it. You will put
aside any W will you have against Captain von Darkmoor. He is my man
and serves me. If any harm comes to him that I can
trace back to your offices, madam, your rank or family connections will
do nothing to spare you my wrath. Is that clear?"

"Yes," she said in
tones as cold as the Prince's. Then she looked at Erik and with barely
controlled rage she said, "Well, bastard, there is nothing to stop you
now, is there? With Manfred dead and you the only one of Otto's
bastards to wear his name, your friend here can name you Baron
now."

"Madam. How dare you." Patrick motioned for a guard to take
Mathilda away.

"Your Highness," said Erik.

"Please forgive me, but let
her stay. There's something I need to say to her." Patrick didn't look
pleased, but he said, "What?" Erik looked at Matilda.

"Madam, you have
hated me without knowing me for my entire life. I can only blame my
father's weakness for other women as the cause, though knowing you as
briefly as I have, I can now understand it." She bristled at this.

"Perhaps if you had been loving, kind, and gentle, he might still have
strayed and -there is no fault in you.

"It doesn't matter. My father
is dead and so are your sons. But I will not be the next Baron of
Darkmoor." Erik looked directly at the old woman and locked gaze with
her.

"You have a grandson." Mathilda said, "What? What nonsense is
this?" Erik said, "No nonsense. He's Stefan's son." Mathilda's hand
came to her mouth and moisture gathered in her eyes as she asked,
"Where is he?"

"Here, in the castle."

"Who is his mother? I want to
see him' Erik motioned for a guard and said, "Go to the inn across the
bridge and find Milo, the innkeeper from Ravensburg, and his daughter,
Rosalyn. Bring them and the baby here." Patrick said, "Somewhere else,
Captain, if you don't mind."

63I

Erik said, "Bring them to the great hall." Patrick said, "Madam, please
wait for them there. I'll send Erik along in a minute." After Mathilda
had departed, Patrick, Prince of Krondor, said, "Captain?" Erik said,
'highness?"

"Out there," said Patrick, 'just a few miles beyond the
walls of this city, is the new western boundary of the Kingdom of the
Isles. I'm the Prince of Krondor, and Krondor no longer exists!

"While
all of us here are aware of the terrible destruction we avoided, this
war is far from over. I have a commission for you, should you be
willing to accept." sir?"

"Retake the Western Realm. Get me back my
PrinciPAlity!"

Erik looked at Calis, who shook his head.

"I'm going home," he said
softly. He glanced across the room, through the door, to where Pug and
Miranda stood watching from the balcony.

"I made a promise." Owen
said, "You are the new Eagle of Krondor, Erik." As Erik stood still in
amazement, Patrick said, "That is, as soon as you recapture my city."

Bitterly he said, "Or what's left of it, so we can begin rebuilding.

"That's the first order. We winter here, rest and refit, and then we
move to Krondor in the spring. We drive out what's left of this
invading army, and rebuild. After that, we take it a day at a time."

Erik knew the task before him was tremendous. Owen said, "But you and
your wife can have a quiet winter together before we start." Erik stood
silently for a moment, then said, "Highness." Whatever momentary
satisfaction at the acknowledgment that Erik was now in charge of
Calis's Special. Command was quickly lost as the Prince continued.

"Arutha," he said, and Lord Vencar stepped forward from the corner
where he had been standing.

"I need a new Duke of Krondor, and you're
it. Father will ratify the choice as soon as I send word. You and
those sons of yours are going to be very important to me. Oh, by the
way, James and Dashel are now Barons of the Court." Arutha bowed.

"Highness." it was obvious that holding the office held by his father
was a course of honor to Arutha. Erik noticed the strain in Arutha's
features and realized the pain he felt because of his parents' and
uncle's death. Then he grinned and Erik caught a fleeting glimpse of
Arutha's father as he said, "I think the boys will find their new
titles amusing."

Patrick smiled at Arutha.

"No doubt He turned his attention back to
the list before him.

"Greylock, you're the new Knight-Marshal of
Krondor, until I find someone better."

"Won't be hard, Highness, so
please don't dawdle too long," said Owen. Patrick leaned forward and
softly said, "Well, you'd better hope it is, because if I do, you and I
are going to have words over you yanking me about the way you did. I
don't take kindly to being manhandled, even if you were right."

"Understood, highness," said Owen gravely. Patrick said, "We've got to
find out if we have any navy left, before spring. Erik, I want you to
send some of your black shirts to Sarth and have them snoop around.

See if any of our ships survived." Calis said, "If we do find any of
them, Highness, where do we tell them to go? Ylith?" Patrick looked at
a map.

"No, I'm going to want to open trade with the Far Coast and the
Sunsets as quickly as possible. Tell them to make for that harbor Lord
Vykor created down in Shandon Bay. It was supposed to be a temporary
anchorage, but we'll have to turn it into a permanent one." Patrick had
been told that Krondor's harbor was now impassable and would remain so
for at least a
year.

"In fact, that's what we'll name it. Port Vykor." The
appointment and redistribution of the newly reemerging Western Realm
continued.

Outside the chamber, Miranda and Pug watched. Calis left the
conference and came over to them. He said, "Father and I leave
tonight." Calis looked at Miranda.

"You said I must do you one more
favor." Miranda said.

"Yes." She slipped her arm from around Pug's
waist and took Calis aside.

"There's a woman in Elvandar. Her name is
EWa.f "I don't know that name," said Calis.

"She is from across the
sea. Her husband died and she is alone in a strange place with her
sons.f Calis's eyes narrowed slightly and he said, "Twin boys?"

"Yes."

"I've seen them, teaching the other children to play football," said
Calis.

"They are beautiful children." Miranda said, "I do not know the
ways of your people, more than you have told me, but I sense something
in her. She and you have much in common. Seek her out, that's all I
ask." Calis said, "We are both within our home, yet we are outsiders."

Miranda touched his cheek.

"Not for much longer, I think." Tomas came
down the stairs and said, "Son, it is time."

"Yes, Father," said Calis.

Pug came up to his boyhood friend and said, "Let it not be years before
we see each other again."

"Agreed," said Tomas. They embraced.

"And
you? Do you return to Sorcerer's Isle?"

"No. There are things that
Miranda and I can do here to help. for a while at least."

"When you
have time, come visit."

"We will'

Tomas and Calis left and Miranda came to stand beside Pug. After a
moment of silence, she said, "Well?" Pug said, "What?"

"Don't you have
something to say?" Pug laughed.

"Such as?" She punched him in the
chest.

"Younger men. Why are you all so thick-headed?" Pug grabbed
her and Pulled her to him.

"What would you have me say? You are my
life, Miranda. You fill up a place I thought would never again know
happiness. Stay
with me. Marry me." Miranda said, "One thing."

"What?" he asked,
half-playfully, half-concerned.

"I want a baby." Pug's mouth fell open
as he stepped back.

"A baby?" He blinked.

"How? You're two hundred
years old!" She grimaced.

"The Lifestone. I'm young again, and I'm
ready to be a mother." She grabbed the front of his robe and pulled him
toward her. Kissing him, she said, "Unless you'd rather I find someone
else?"

"No!" he said.

"It's just .. ."

"I know," she said softly.

"But I regret not having children the first time around, and now I have
another chance." Her voice dropped and she said, "Beloved, I know you
are suffering over the death of your children, and you've spoken about
the pain of outliving them, but this time it will be different, I
promise you." Looking in her eyes, he said, "I have no doubt."

"Good,"
she said, leading him down the stairs to the quarters Manfred had set
aside for them.

"Let's go make a baby." Pug laughed.

Roo, Nathan, and the others had accompanied Erik to the keep when
Rosalyn, Milo, and Gerd had been summoned. They entered, Roo with his
usual bravado, the others more
timidly. None but Roo had ever been inside a great lord's audience
hall before, even one somewhat worse for the wear of recent battle)
Mathilda moved slowly to stand before Rosalyn, who held the little boy
on her hip. Gerd's attention was drawn by a necklace the Baroness
wore, and he reached for it. Rosalyn gently held his hand and Mathilda
said, "No, let him play with it."

"He's teething," the young woman said
softly. Randolph, her husband, put a reassuring hand on Rosalyn's
shoulder. Mathilda's eyes began to brim with tears and she said, "He
looks so much like his father." Rosalyn blushed and said, "He's a good
baby." Mathilda turned to Erik.

"What do you suggest?" Her manner was
again controlled and commanding. Erik said, "I suggest nothing. Stefan
was Baron when he fathered Gerd." He saw Rosalyn lower her eyes at the
reminder of the rape, and Randolph's hands tightened ever so slightly,
in reassurance.

"It's clear to me, Gerd is Baron of Darkmoor." Then
Erik's tone became steel.

"And Patrick will name me Baronial Regent."

The woman's eyes widened, as Erik could almost read her thoughts; it
was a ploy for Erik to seize control of the barony. But before she
could speak, Erik said, "But I have duties in the west. So I must
delegate someone else to conduct the business of the duchy He crossed
to stand before his nemesis.

"You govern here, milady. Let Rosalyn
and her husband live here or in the city as they choose, and see the
boy daily. But you make him the next Baron of Darkmoor." Then he
lowered his voice even more.

"But do a better job than you did with
Stefan, or I will be back." The woman's face was a mask.

"Manfred was
a good enough man. Despite your disagreements with him. He could have
been a good teacher for the boy. Treat Gerd as you should have treated
your sons, and you and I will have no issue. But should any harm come
to him, I will be back. Is that clear?"

Mathilda looked past Erik and saw the baby smile. She stepped toward
him, saying, "Let me hold him." Rosalyn handed Gerd to the old woman.

Then she said, "Gerd, this is your grandmother." Erik left the hall and
Roo followed after. Outside, Roo said, "Is this going to work?" Erik
said, "It better." Then he turned to his friend and said, "For the next
year or so you're going to be around here like flies on dung, so if
anything happens that I should know about, get word to me."

Roo grinned.

"And where are you going to be?" Erik smiled and shook
his head.

"Recapturing a Kingdom, it seems."

The herald blew a trumpet and Patrick said, "Well, let's go talk." Word
arrived that morning that a large force of heavy cavalry was moving up
from the south, slogging along the roads from the west of Dorgin, as a
heavy rain had struck the day before. Scouts reported that the banner
of Kesh flew over the force that made its way toward Darkmoor. Now
they stood outside the gate, as the evening sun set, and Patrick was
riding with Erik, Owen, Pug, and Arutha to see what a Keshian army was
doing this far north.

"Maybe they came to help," suggested Nakor as he
walked alongside Pug's horse.

"Somehow I doubt that," said Pug. They
reached the Keshians, and one of Darkmoor's men, acting as herald,
said, "Who comes before Krondor's Prince?" The Keshian herald said,
"Highness, my lords, I have the honor to present his most esteemed
lord, General Beshan Solan."

"General," said Prince Patrick.

"May we
inquire as to your presence in our Kingdom? Are you perhaps lost?"

"Highness," said the General.

"Let us be brief. it is wet, and I
would like to return to my camp. We have closely watched this
invasion, as you have provided us with remarkably candid intelligence
regarding the enemy, their disposition, and in ten4 "We did, however,
incur losses as they attempted to expand into territory occupied by our
forces," the leather faced old soldier said.

"So my master, His Most
Imperial Majesty, has decided that the former boundaries between Great
Kesh and your Kingdom are no longer agreeable to us." Patrick looked
ready to explode.

"You dare ride into my own Principality and inform
me the Empire is trying to annex territories beyond those agreed to?"

"In a word: yes." Well, General, look around. It may come to your
attention that the bulk of the Armies of the East are currently here in
Darkmoor. Come spring I can order them southward just as easily as
westward. I am certain I can convince my father that we can wait a
year to reclaim the Western Realm while we sort out some Keshian
adventurers." The General seemed unimpressed.

"I-highness, with an due
respect, your Western Armies are scattered and decimated, your Eastern
Armies can not stay here long, else you'll face difficulties on your
eastern borders. You have no significant navy left of which to speak.

In short, while you could most certainly create some difficulties for
Great Kesh for a short while, in the long run, to what advantage?" He
took out a rolled-up parchment, and said, "Here are the terms of a
treaty my Imperial Master sends to your father." Patrick nodded and a
soldier took the scroll from the Keshian General. Patrick nodded to
Arutha, who took it, opened it and read it.

"Damn' he said after a
moment.

"My lord?" said Patrick.

"They want it all. We keep everything
from where we
sit to the East. Kesh claims all lands between the Great Star Lake and
the Teeth of the World West of the Calastius Mountains."

"Kesh's
historical boundaries, as you know," said the General, 'before the
unfortunate war with the rebellious Confederacy to the south forced us
to abandon our hereditary lands."

"Hereditary lands!" said Patrick.

"Not in the worst fever dream of your most deluded monarch, General."

Arutha said, "What of Queg and the Free Cities of Natal?"

The General said, "Kesh will deal with her recalcitrant children in
time." Patrick said, "If you will be so kind as to wait, my lord, I
will pen a reply to your Imperial Master. And you can tell Digaai for
me that the formal declaration of war from my father will arrive
shortly." Nakor said, "I-highness?"

"What." snapped Patrick, obviously
close to a rage.

"I think I can help." Pug said, "What do you have in
mind?"

"Watch!" Nakor took out the Tsurani transport sphere and
vanished.

"What is that odd little man up to?" asked the Prince. Pug
said, "I don't know, but he usually manages to come up with unexpected
results. I think we can afford to wait a little while." Patrick said,
"Very well." A few minutes later, Nakor was back.

"Look to the south,"
he said. The entire company of officers from both sides did as Nakor
bade, and to the south a vast column of ruby light pierced the sky.

"What is that?" asked the Keshian General.

"That is Stardock," said
Pug.

"Stardock." said the General.

"That's impossible I Stardock is
hundreds of miles from here."

"Nevertheless," said Pug, 'that light is coming from Stardock." Nakor
said, "It's a demonstration of power. It's to let you mow there are
seven hundred very angry magicians down there who don't like the way
you honor treaties."

"Seven hundred?" said Pug.

"I thought there were
four hundred." Nakor grinned.

"We invited some of your old Tsurani
friends to come visit." Pug rolled his eyes and said, "Three hundred
black robes?"

"Well, maybe a few less." The General said, "Seven
hundred magicians?"

"Angry magicians," said Erik.

"And one very angry
Prince, with the Armies of the East camped ten miles from here I' added
Patrick.

"Come spring, you can expect a two-front war, General. And
from the look of that little demonstration, you don't even want to
consider what that means for the Empire." The Keshian General looked
around and at last said, "What do you propose, Highness?" Patrick said,
"We'll make it simple. You return to the old border, and come spring
my father's diplomats and your Emperor's can start renegotiating the
boundary between our two realms all over again."

"The old boundary!"

"Yes," said Patrick.

"We take back Shamata." His yell caused his horse
to turn completely around.

"You think on this as you ride south, and
you'd better be moving that way at dawn, else I'll turn my army south
and start marching that way myself, rain or no rain. Do you
understand?" The General glanced over his shoulder and saw the red
light in the sky.

"I understand, Highness."

"Good." Patrick turned his
horse and rode off, Erik and Greylock at his side.

Pug waited as the Keshians returned the way they came, and Patrick rode
off. When only the two of them remained in the street, Pug on his
horse and Nakor at his side, Pug, asked, "Nakor, what did you promise
Chalmes and the others to get them to pull that stunt?" Nakor smiled.

"I gave them Stardock."

"You what?" asked Pug. Nakor said, "Well, you
told me to think of something."

Pug asked softly, "You gave away my duchy?"

"I had to. independence
from both the Kingdom and Kesh was the only thing I could think of that
they'd fight for. And the Tsurani like having a neutral way into
Midkemia, too. Which is why they helped.

"Either way, though, you lose
Stardock, to the magicians or to the Empire. This way is better, I
think."

"But you gave away a duchy. What am I going to tell the King?"

Nakor shrugged.

"You'll think of something He grinned.

EPILOGUE

consequences p

Fadawah frowned. He looked at the maps his aides had provided and said,
"What is the situation here, Kahil?"

"It is the city called Ylith,"
said the captain who had been charged with gathering intelligence.

"It
is a major seaport and the only sea entrance into the province of
Yabon. It is relatively untouched, and most of its garrison was
already sent south to defend Darkmoor. There is only a small force
there as well as a fps another garrison i- "He indi 7er,
if we is should
bund the

Emp, Yown in our tw(,
ss than "The olc ~any of "Yes," said caused
his horse this as you ride sot. coast, way at dawn, else
I'll tu.

"Darking that way myself, rain Men The
General glanced over ice he light in the sky.

"I understand, I-,
ssess "Good!" Patrick turned his horse and rode oh, eat, at his side.

MIY

from the east, only made him all the more certain they had been on a
fool's errand, attempting to drive across the mountains, to seize a
city reported to be abandoned. He had briefly wondered at the sanity
of the demon, but given what had happened since, he said a prayer each
night to Kalkin, thanking the god of gamblers for blessing him. How he
had survived when so many others had been destroyed by the Emerald
Queen or the demon was beyond him, But now he had more immediate needs.

His army was aI0 long way from home and hungry. The good news was
that as he traveled north the lands were more abundant,

and his men were starting to eat well again. He said to K"

"Word is to
be sent south that any of those who managed to get away from Darkmoor
could come to Ylith, to winter there."

"Very well, General," said the
intelligence officer, who saluted and left the tent. Fadawah also knew
the Saaur were out there somewhere, and he was concerned. If he could
speak to Jatuk he might convince the leader of the lizard people that
he was also a dupe, a tool used and almost discarded, but if he failed
that, the angry lizard would seek someone upon whom to vent his rage.

As the highest remaining officer of the Emerald Queen's Army, Fadawah
was a logical choice. Fadawah sat back on the small stool in his tent.

He had been cast upon a distant shore by a capricious fate, but it was
his nature to turn an advantage wherever he might. That was why he had
become the most successful general in Novindus, rising from mercenary
captain in the Eastlands, to Military Overlord of the Emerald Queen.

His senior captain, Nordan, said, "What will we do once we've taken
this Ylith, General?" Fadawah said, "We've paid in blood for other
people's greed and ambition, my old friend." He leaned forward, putting
his elbows on his knees.

"Now we serve our own."

He smiled at his old companion. His thin face looked especially
sinister in the faint light from the small lantern that hung from the
tent pole.

"How would you like to be General of our armies?" Nordan
said, "But if I become General, what about you?" Fadawah said,)"I
become King." His finger outlined the coast between Krondor and Ylith.

"The Kingdom's Western Capital is in ruins, and no law exists between
it and Ylith." He considered his options.

"Yes, King of the Bitter Sea.

How does that sound?" Nordan bowed.

"It sounds appropriate, Your
Majesty." Fadawah laughed as the cool fall wind blew outside the
tent.

