Sorry, said the first voice.
Anyway, he said that a bunch of fellows had sailed all the way around from the Sunsets, and that they provisioned here and someone said they were heading to the peaks.
Peaks? asked the first voice.
This is the Peaks of the Quor, you idiot.
Oh, I didnt know, came the plaintive response.
How can you be camped in a place for four bloody months and not know what its called?
Nobody told me!
The leader said, This thing with that girl, in the armor. She had temple knight written all over her.
So? asked the second voice.
So, if one of the temples is sending one of their knights to investigate, things here are getting too twitchy. A moment of silence, and he continued. I signed on to terrorize some locals, maybe deal with a constable or two from Ithra if they showed up. But Ive seen those temple knights in a fight. A murder cult sprang up down in Kesh ten years ago, and they were hiding out at the docks in Hansul. A bunch of those knights from Lims-Kragma showed up and it wasnt a pretty sight. Magic everywhere, and they didnt take prisoners. Slaughtered every one of those cult fighters like they was lambs.
Magic! said the first voice, like it was a curse.
The gold is good, said the second.
But not if youre dead. Cant spend it here, and Lims-Kragma dont give you a better turn at the Wheel if you brought a little gold with you.
Silence followed for almost a full minute, then the second voice asked, What do we do?
This morning, before they wake, I want you to quietly wake up Blakeny, Wallace, Garton, and that murderous little rat Allistair. The seven of us are just going to quickly and quietly go over and start killing. We hit them hard, fast, and theyre all dead before they know it. Then we kill those villagers, grab what we can, and ride south. Then I dont know about you, but Im on the first ship outbound, I dont care where. Maybe Ill head down to that other land, Novindus. Or the Sunsets.
But somethings coming here, something I want no part of, and the faster we get away from here, the better.
What about our gold? asked the second voice.
Purdon was supposed to have it, replied the leader.
The magician? asked the first voice.
Yes, said the leader. So if no ones disturbed his kit since they murdered him for failing to bring in the right demon, it should all be there.
How much? asked the second voice.
Does it matter? asked the leader. Its gold, its whatever there is, and we take it. If any of the boys dont like it, theyre free to stay and see who Belasco sends to replace Purdon. They can explain to the next bunch of those blood-drinking whores and pimps why the first batch is all lying around dead.
Okay, said the second voice. Its time.
No, said the leader. An hour before sunrise. Thatll put us in the saddle as soon as the sun comes up, and we head south.
How much longer is that? asked the second voice.
Sandreena glanced at the rising small moon and knew the answer. She had an hour to figure out what to do next.
CHAPTER 13
CONCLAVE
Sandreena took a deep breath.
Sandreena had no love for anyone in this camp, but she had sympathy for the villagers being used as slaves. She struggled for a long time, deciding what her best course of action would be, but finally rejected all the choices that didnt involve trying to save the slaves. She slowly worked her way over to where they were sleeping, and gently nudged a young woman. The woman awoke suddenly and was about to shout, as Sandreenas hand clamped down over her mouth. Shh, she whispered. If you want to live, make no sound. Do you understand me?
The young woman nodded her head up and down. In a few minutes the guards are going to kill the cultists. Then theyll kill you and your friends. Help me wake them up quietly and flee silently. Do you understand?
Again the woman nodded, and Sandreena let go of her. There were eleven other sleeping villagers, all of whom looked exhausted and underfed. They were normally listless, but their fear energized them. The young woman who was the first one Sandreena awoke said, What do we do?
Go north, she said. Find a safe place to hide for a day. Those cutthroats will ride east to Akrakon. Then south to Ithra. After theyve gone, it should be safe for you to go home.
Who are you? asked a man standing behind the young woman.
Im a Knight-Adamant from the Temple of Dala in Krondor. If I can get out of here alive, Im going to try to find help to come up here in case others like those Black Cap bastards return.
Thank you, said one old woman, obviously frightened.
Dont thank me yet. I havent made it out of here alive, either. Looking at the young woman, she said, Remember this: if I dont get out, someone has to go to Ithra. Theres a Keshian garrison there and a shrine to Dala. Go to the shrine first and tell whoevers there that Sandreena of the Shield of the Weak spoke to you. Tell them what youve seen and heard, and then tell them theres someone behind all this named Belasco. She looked the young woman in the eye. Can you remember that?
The young woman nodded. Sandreena, she said softly, looking at the Knight-Adamant, as if trying to burn her face in her memory. Belasco is behind all this.
Good. The monk at the shrine will talk to the garrison commander and maybe the Empire will send someone up here. If they dont, my Temple certainly will. Now go! she hissed.
The prisoners needed no further prodding; they turned as one and began scrambling over the rocks to the north. Sandreena knew that if they could get a half-hour start, the fighters wouldnt bother to hunt them down. Glancing at the moon, she realized a half-hour was about all she had, too.
She hurried to where the horses were picketed. In their certainty that they had no threats up here in the hills, the Black Caps had gotten complacent to the point of sloppiness. She approached the horses slowly, for she didnt want nickering and stomping to alert those three murderers in the big hut or any light sleepers close by.
She reached the side of her own mount and saw the mare was unharmed. She patted it on the neck as she looked for any sign of her tack. It was in a heap nearby and Sandreena quickly tacked up her horse. She saw nothing that resembled her armor or arms, let alone the little pouch with the Soul Gem in it. Most likely her armor had been apportioned to some of the smaller men, one of the leaders had her mace and shield.
Regretting her inability to get more information than she had, she put all that behind her. She considered for a brief instant trying to muffle her horses hooves, but there was nothing at hand that would easily lend itself to doing so, and she didnt have the time. Sandreena quietly led her horse away from the others a short distance and paused, waiting to see if the sound of hooves on the ground attracted notice. When no alarm was raised, she slowly moved through the heart of the sleeping camp, and a short way down the trail. Tying her horse to a bush, she hurried back up to the rock from which she first observed the camp.
The balance of the hour passed quickly and as she anticipated, the three murderers from the hut were quietly awakening their companions. No one appeared to notice the absence of the dozen prisonerstheir attention seemed focused on the sleeping cultists.
Sandreena felt torn; her Orders very mandate would be to ride in and attempt to balance this conflict, which would almost certainly get her instantly killed. Yet it galled her to see cold-blooded murder, even if those being slaughtered were monsters such as these cultists. And she didnt relish the notion of the mercenaries riding off without penalty. Some of those men, perhaps even those in the hut she had overheard, those were the men who sliced her up and threw her into the sea as food for the crabs.
Without thinking about it too long, she picked up a rock and threw it hard at the foot of a sleeping cultist, where it jutted out of his lean-to, just as the fighters started to cross the clearing to where the cultists slept. It struck as she hoped, and in the dark, none of the fighters took note.
But the man whose foot she
struck came away with an outcry, and before anyone could ascertain what happened, chaos erupted. The waking cultists saw a band of armed men moving toward them and reacted with the only weapons they possessedtheir magic.
Green energies shot out and several of those with weapons screamed in pain, while the other fighters shouted in outrage and charged. Sandreena scampered down the rock face, not wishing or needing to see further carnage. She knew the thirty-odd swords would eventually dispose of the two dozen cultists, but a lot fewer of the fighters were going to ride safely away from this hellish place.
Sandreena rode down the trail at a nice canter, knowing those fighting for their lives behind her wouldnt hear a thing.
Sandreena worked her way up the rocks to the cave where the hermit had tended to her. She called out, Hello! Are you here? as she entered. It took some moments for her sight to adjust to the gloom after riding through the sunrise, and when she was inside, her eyes widened.
She carried a small kettle and an assortment of cooking items: a knife, ladle, several spoons, and two earthen bowls. She had raided the inn passing through town, knowing the previous owners had no use for any of the items. When there was no answer, she moved deeper into the cave.
The hermit sat back against the wall, his eyes closed. Wake up, old man! Sandreena said, for she had no time to tarry, but wanted to make good on her promise. The hermit didnt move.
She put down her burden and knelt next to him. She knew before she touched him the old man was dead. She quickly examined him and found no wounds. He simply had died during the night while he slept. There were no expressions of pain, no contortions of the body, so he must have never awakened.
Sighing, she reminded herself that sometimes people just died. He was old and this was a harsh way to live and it was his time.
She said a quick silent prayer to her Goddess to see him on his way to Lims-Kragmas Hall, and then left the cave. She mounted her horse and turned it toward the south. With one last look around the forlorn seascape and rocky coasts, all greys and browns, black and white, she wondered if there was anyone in the world besides herself that would note the passing of that strange old man. She put aside that question, for her only goal now was to somehow get to Ithra alive and send her warning to the Temple in Krondor.
Pug of Sorcerers Isle, perhaps the greatest practitioner of magic in the entirety of the world of Midkemia, waved his hand and created a barrier to protect himself and his companion from the blinding, choking smoke. He looked at an elf Spellweaver named Temar, and said, This is the worst Ive seen in a hundred years.
Temar nodded. Ive seen a few that match, but not many. Its a bad combination, Pug, drought and lightning.
Temar was from the elven community at Baranor. For ten years Pug and Miranda had visited the elven enclave in the remote mountain area of Kesh known as the Peaks of the Quor, attempting to understand those strange aliens and those they protected, the Svenga-ri, and the equally odd race known as the Quor, who protected them.
It hasnt been especially dry until a week ago, said Temar. But the undergrowth here is so thick that it was almost a certainty lightning would start something like this. He glanced around and pointed with his hand to the north. Were getting an especially bad dry wind thats doing us double disservice; its pushing the flames and drying out everything before them.
Rain? asked Pug.
The elf gave Pug a wry smile. Im good at weather magic, Pug, but not that good. Theres not enough moisture in the air, nor is there any rain close enough for me to summon. I could attempt it, but I know the effort would be a waste.
A loud pop in the air alerted them to the arrival of Magnus. The elf was unfazed by the sudden appearance of the human magician, but Pug was startled to see he was not alone. Father, greeted the tall, white-haired magician.
Who is this? asked Pug.
This is Amirantha, someone you need to speak with.
This couldnt wait until I return?
I think not, answered Magnus.
Pug nodded. Were concerned about this fire, he said, pointing to the raging flames on the next ridge. Its not entirely likely that it will reach Baranor, but it might. Conditions here are not good. Turning to Amirantha, he said, Sorry to be short on social pleasantries, but time is fleeting.
Temar also nodded a brief greeting. Its going to be getting very hot here in the next hour, Pug.
Magnus asked, Can you not turn the wind, blow it back on itself?
I can command the wind, answered the elf, but not over so wide a front. And, like all things with fundamental elements, there is a price to pay.
So rain is out of the question? asked Amirantha, looking at the rapidly approaching inferno.
There is no hope of rain, said Temar.
Perhaps I can help, said Amirantha. Please stand away from me.
Pug, Magnus, and Temar moved away, then farther as Amirantha motioned them to move a little more. When he judged them safely away, he held up his hand, closed his eyes, and incanted a spell. From his hand a brilliant white light, blinding even in this daylight, shot down to burn a line in the ground. In seconds it inscribed a circle around the Warlock. He looked at the circle on the ground, nodded in satisfaction, then stepped out of it, being careful not to step on the burned line as he took up position between himself and the others.
He began another spell, this one longer and more involved, and then something huge appeared in the circle. For lack of a better description, Pug saw it as a thing of water, a huge being in roughly man shape but clearly a fluid being. Surging waves within the form were masked by ripples across the surface of it, and bubbles and foam seemed to deck its shoulders like a mantle. It cried out in a language that sounded like the roar of rapids or the pounding of waves and rushed Amirantha. The Warlock stood motionless, and when the creature reached the boundary of the circle, it recoiled.
Amirantha said, Summoned you I have, and my bidding you will do. The creature in the circle seemed disinclined to agree. Amirantha began another spell, and then the thing in the circle grew quiet. Amirantha pointed to the advancing flames and said one word, then the circle vanished.
The water creature grew. Pug and the others stepped back in amazement as it doubled in size in a few seconds. Amirantha turned his back and walked slowly to where they stood and said, This should take care of the problem.
The water being continued to grow and soon was over twenty feet in height, then it sprang into the air. Like a bowshot, it was gone, arching high into the sky, and then suddenly it vanished. Rain fell.
There was not a cloud in the sky, yet rain poured down over the flames.
Amirantha said, Its not enough to completely extinguish the fire, but it should cool things off enough so the flames wont reach this far. He glanced at Temar. And perhaps it will give our friend here the time he needs for a more permanent solution?
Temar nodded. I can feel the weather change. In a half-day, there will be enough moisture in the air for me to call down rain. Thank you.
Amirantha nodded and smiled. Pug said, What was that creature? Ive never seen one like it before.
It was a simple water elemental. A very minor demon. Nasty if you dont contain it, as it can quickly fill your lungs with watermy first encounter with one was painful. He glanced at the water still falling and said, Water and fire are natural enemies among elementals. Once I got it to listen, pointing out the fire made it eager to go kill. He chuckled. Elementals are not among the brightest of creatures.
Will you have any problem controlling it? asked Magnus, obviously curious.
No, said Amirantha. Actually, the elemental will give itself up to the fire; they sort of cancel one another in the demon realm, and once that creature runs out of water to rain down on the fireWell, it saves me the trouble of banishing it back to the demon realm.
Its a demon? asked Pug.
Not entirely, but close enough in some respects. He glanced around. Interesting place. I dont believe Ive ever been here before.
> You travel a lot? asked Pug, finding something about this newcomers manner wryly amusing.
Quite a bit, many years ago. I have settled down a bit, recently. He looked around and said, Given the time of day when we arrived at your very interesting island, and when we departedafter a fascinating discussion with your sonand the position of the sun now, I assume we are again many miles to the east of where I was a few minutes ago. He glanced at Pug and said, Somewhere in Kesh. Then he glanced around and added, Perhaps the Peaks of the Quor.
Im impressed, said Pug. Seeing as you claim to have never been here before.
I havent, said Amirantha with a friendly smile. But given the angle of the sun and the time of day, the fact were standing on mountains, looking down at what can only be sea coast, there werent a lot of other likely candidates. I may not have been here, but I have studied a map or two.
Pug glanced at his son. My demon expert? His son nodded. Where did you find him?
Magnus said, Actually, Kaspar brought him to the island last night.
Amirantha smiled. It was morning when we left Maharta.
Maharta? asked Pug.
Currently close to my home. He glanced at the other two men and the elf and said, If were going to talk, may I suggest we retire someplace a bit less smoky?
Pug glanced at Temar, who said, Go. I can easily return to Baranor. Originally from Elvandar, Temar had elected to come to Baranor with others of his kind to revitalize the dying Sun Elves, a pocket of elven guardians who had been placed in the mountains ages ago by the Dragon Lords.
Duty-bound, they had remained even though the toll had been terrible. When discovered by Kaspar of Olasko and his men ten years before, the Sun Elves were barely able to defend themselves from a band of void creatures that had somehow reached Midkemia and taken up residency a few miles away from the elven enclave.