Locklear said, My side burns, but I can fight. To Owyn he said, What about you?
Owyn hefted his wooden staff. It was hard oak, with iron-shod ends. I can swing this, if I need to. And I have some magic.
Can you make them vanish?
No, said Owyn. I cant do that.
Pity, said Locklear. Then try to stay out of the way.
They advanced cautiously, and as they neared the spot Gorath had indicated, Locklear could make out a shadowy figure between the trees. The man or moredhel Locklear couldnt tell which moved slightly, revealing his position. Had he remained motionless, Locklear would never have seen him.
Gorath signalled for Locklear and Owyn to move more to their right, looping around behind the lookout. Without knowing how many men they faced, they would do well to seek the advantage of surprise.
Gorath moved through the woods like a spirit, silent and almost unseen once Owyn and Locklear left him. Locklear signalled for Owyn to keep slightly behind and to the right of him, so he knew where he was when they closed upon their ambushers.
As they moved through the woods, they heard the sound of whispers, and Locklear knew no elves waiting for them would utter a word. Now the question was were these mere bandits or agents seeking to stop Goraths journey.
A grunt from ahead signalled Goraths first contact with the ambushers. A shout followed instantly and Locklear and Owyn ran forward.
Four men stood and one was already dying. The other three spread out in a small clearing between two lines of trees, a perfect position for a roadside ambush. Locklear felt an odd flicker behind him and something sped past his eyes, as if an arrow had been fired from behind, but other than the sensation of motion, there was nothing to be seen.
One of the three remaining ambushers cried out in shock, his hand going out before him as vacant eyes stared ahead, Im blind! he shouted in panic.
Locklear decided it was Owyns useful magic, and thanked the Goddess of Luck the boy had that much talent.
Gorath was engaged with one man while Locklear advanced on the other. Suddenly their garb registered and he said, Quegans!
The men were wearing short tunics and leggings, and cross-gartered sandals. The man facing Locklear had his head covered with a red bandanna, and over his shoulder hung a baldric from which a cutlass had hung. The cutlass was now carving through the air at Locklears head.
He parried and the blow shot fire through his wounded side. Putting aside his pain, Locklear riposted and the pirate fell back. A strangled cry told Locklear the second pirate was down.
The strange missile sensation sped by and the man facing Locklear winced and held his hand up as if shielding his eyes. Locklear didnt hesitate and ran the man through.
Gorath killed the last man and suddenly it was quiet again in the woods.
Locklears side was afire but he didnt feel any additional damage. He put up his sword and said, Damn me.
Are you hurt? asked Owyn.
No, answered Locklear.
Then what is the problem? asked Owyn.
Locklear looked around the clearing. These are the problem. Someone has gotten word ahead of us. We can be certain of that.
How? asked Gorath.
These are Quegan pirates, said Locklear. Look at their weapons.
I wouldnt know a Quegan if I tripped over him, said Owyn. Ill take your word for it, squire.
Do not pirates usually ply their trade at sea? asked Gorath.
They do, said Locklear, unless someones paid them to stake out a road and wait for three travellers on foot. He knelt next to the man who had died at his feet and said, Look at his hands. Those are the hands of a man used to handling rope. Those Quegan cutlasses are the clincher. He examined the man, looking for a pouch or purse, saying, Look for anything that might be a message.
They did and came away with a little gold and a couple of daggers in addition to the four cutlasses. But no messages or notes, nothing indicating who had hired the pirates. Were not close enough to Ylith for a band of pirates to have made it this far north undetected in the time since we left Yabon.
Someone must have sent word south when I left the Northlands, said Gorath.
But how? asked Owyn. Youve told me you only spent a couple of days in Tyr-Sog, and you were riding until yesterday.
Thats an odd question for a student of magic, observed Gorath.
Owyn blushed a little. Oh.
Youve Spellweavers who can do such? asked Locklear.
Not such as the eledhel those you call elves call Spellweavers. But we have our practitioners of magic. And there are others of your race who will sell their arts.
Owyn said, Ive never witnessed it, but I have heard of a talent called mind speech which allows a spell-caster to speak with another. And theres something known as dream speech as well. Either
Someone really wants you dead, dont they? observed Locklear, interrupting the boy.
Delekhan, said Gorath. And he was gathering to his side any of my people who showed such talents. I know his goals, but not his plan. And if magic arts are part of it, I fear the results.
Locklear said, I understand that. Ive had my share of encounters with people using magic who shouldnt. He glanced at Owyn and said, That blinding trick was quite good, lad.
Looking embarrassed, Owyn said, I thought it might help. I know a few spells like that, but nothing that would overpower an enemy. Still, Ill try to help where I can.
Glancing at Owyn, Locklear said, I know. Lets get to LaMut.
LaMut stood astride the road south, requiring anyone travelling from Yabon to Ylith to pass through its gates or endure a long trek to the east through dangerous foothills.
The foulbourgh of the city sprawled in all directions, while the old walls of the city stood behind, nearly useless now, given the ease with which any attacker could mount the buildings next to them and gain the parapet from their roofs.
It was nearly sundown and all three travellers were tired, footsore, and hungry. We can present ourselves to Earl Kasumi tomorrow.
Why not now? asked Owyn. I could use a meal and a bed.
Because the garrison is up there, said Locklear, pointing at a distant fortress high above the city on a hillside, and that would be another two hours walk, whereas a cheap inn is but one minute that way. He pointed at the gate.
Will your countrymen object to my presence? asked Gorath.
They would if they suspected your nature. If they think you an elf from Elvandar, they may only stare a little. Come on. Weve looted enough gold for a night of relative comfort, and in the morning well visit the Earl and see if he can get us safely to Krondor.
They entered the city under the watchful gaze of otherwise bored-looking soldiers. One of them stood out from his companions, being shorter, and much more businesslike in his manner. Locklear smiled and nodded at the guards, but the three travellers didnt stop or speak. A short distance inside the city gates sat an inn, marked by a wagon wheel painted bright blue. There, said Locklear.
They entered the inn, busy, but not crowded, and moved to a table near the far wall. As they sat a stout young serving woman came, took their order for food and ale, and left. As they were waiting, Locklear spied a figure on the other side of the room staring at him.
It took a moment for Locklear to realize the figure wasnt a man, but a dwarf. The dwarf stood and made his way across the room. He bore a large scar across his face, cutting through his left eye. He stood before them and said, You dont recognize me, do you, Locky?
Locklear realized the last time he had seen the dwarf he had not borne the scar he now sported, but at hearing his name from the dwarfs lips, he said, Dubal! Without the eye-patch, it took me a moment.
The dwarf moved to sit next to Owyn, across from Gorath. I won this face in battle, from one of his kin he pointed at Gorath and Ill be a dragons mother before I hide it again.
Dubal found me hiding in a cellar after the Battle of Sethanon, said Locklear.
Locked in there with a pretty wench, if memory serves. The dwarf laughed.
Locklear shrugged. Well, that was by chance.
Dubal said, Now tell me, what is a seigneur of the Princes court doing sitting in LaMut with a moredhel warchief? He kept his voice low, but Owyn glanced around to see if anyone had overheard him.
You know me? asked Gorath.
I know your race, for you are the enemy of my blood, and I know your armour for what it is. A human might not notice, but we of the Grey Towers have fought your kind long enough I wouldnt mistake you for one from Elvandar. Its only your present company that keeps me from killing you here and now.
Locklear held up his hand. I would count it a kindness and a personal favour, as would Prince Arutha, should you imagine this person on my left to be an elf.
I think I can manage. But youll have to come to the Grey Towers and tell me the story behind this mummery.
If I can, I will, said Locklear. Now, what brings you alone to LaMut?
Weve got problems at our mines and had a collapse. Some of us are stuck on this side of the Grey Towers and I came in to the city to buy some stores. Ill hire a waggon and head back in the morning. For the time being, Im content to sit and drink, and jabber with some of these Tsurani here in LaMut. I fought them during the war, and theyve turned out to be a stalwart enough bunch once you get to know them. He pointed to the bar. That tall fellow Locky laughed to hear anyone call a Tsurani tall hes Sumani, the owner. Has a fair number of tales to spin about his days serving on the Tsurani world, and Im switched if it doesnt sound like hes telling the truth most of the time.
Locklear laughed. Most Tsurani I know dont indulge in tall tales, Dubal.
Seems to be so, but you never know. Ive fought the big bugs, the Cho-ja, but some of those other things he talks about, well, Im hard-pressed to believe them.
The serving woman arrived with the food and ale and they fell to. Now, said Dubal, can you tell me what brings you here?
No, replied Locklear, but we can ask you if youve seen any Quegans hanging around?
There was a pack of them through here two days ago, according to the gossip, said Dubal. I just arrived and was brokering the material we need. Arent Quegans a bit far from home?
You could say that, observed Locklear. We ran into some and wondered if they had friends.
Well, according to the gossip, they were all heading north from here, so if you didnt run into a big bunch, theyve got friends around.
Locklear said, Thats as I figured.
They ate in silence for a while, as Dubal nursed his mug of ale. Then the dwarf said, You wouldnt have run across one of those Armengar monster hunters coming from the north, have you?
Monster hunter? asked Owyn.
Locklear said, Beast Hunter, is what he means. I met one, once. He smiled at the memory. They had been travelling with Prince Arutha away from a band of moredhel, and had run into a Beast Hunter from Armengar with his Beast Hound. It had been a trap, but it had saved them from the pursuing moredhel. No, I think those that remain are up in the hills of northern Yabon. Why?
Oh, weve got a Brak Nurr loose in the mine and need someone to hunt it down for us. We can either rebuild the mine or hunt the thing, but there arent enough of us on this side of the mountain to do both.
Whats a Brak Nurr? asked Owyn. Ive never heard of such a creature.
Its more a nuisance than a menace, said Dubal. Its a pretty stupid creature, but most of their kind stay in the lower mines and tunnels under the mountain. Its roughly man-shaped, but looks like a walking pile of rocks. Thats part of its danger, boy, Dubal said to Owyn. You cant see one until youve stepped on its toes, as often as not. Theyre slow and lumbering, but theyre strong and can crush a mans skull with a single blow. This one came up because of the rockslide, I think, but whatever the cause, its tried to hurt a couple of our lads. Weve chased it off, but cant take the time to hunt it down. If youre up for a bit of fun, I can take you along and if you rid the mines of it, Ill be happy to see you rewarded.
Reward? said Locky. Thats always a good word, but time doesnt permit. If circumstances bring us to the mines any time soon, well be glad to help, but for the moment, were heading south.
Dubal stood. I understand. Once we get the tunnels finished, well go looking for the beastie. Now, Im for bed and an early start. It was good seeing you again, squire, even in such company as this, he said, indicating Gorath. Good fortune follow you.
And you, Dubal.
Locklear finished eating and rose to approach the innkeeper.
The innkeeper wore a Kingdom-style tunic and trousers, the latter tucked into high-top calfskin boots. But he wore a fur-lined, woven-wool heavy cloak, though it was thrown back, as if even in this warm inn it was too cold for his liking.
Sir? asked the innkeeper, his heavy accent making the word sound odd to Locklear.
Honours to your house, said Locklear in Tsurani.
The man smiled and said something in return. Locklear smiled and shrugged. Sorry, that was all the Tsurani I know.
The mans smile broadened. More than most, he said. Youre not from LaMut, he observed.
True. I learned a little of your native tongue at Sethanon.
Ah, said the innkeeper, nodding in understanding. Few who were at Sethanon spoke of what had occurred there, mostly because few understood it. At the height of the battle a great upheaval had driven both armies, invaders and defenders, fleeing from the city. A green light from the heavens and the appearance of something in the sky, followed by the destruction of the centre of the city, had rendered most men stunned, and a few deaf, after the battle. No one was certain what had happened, though most conceded a great magic had been unleashed. Most speculated the magician Pug, a friend of the Prince, had a hand in it, but no one seemed to know for certain.
Locklear had missed most of the end of the battle, being hidden in a cellar in the city, but he had heard enough accounts from other eyewitnesses to have formed a pretty clear picture in his own mind. And there was a special bond among those who had survived the Battle of Sethanon, irrespective of their place of birth, for it had been Tsurani, Kingdom, and even Keshian soldiers, who had driven the moredhel and their goblin allies back into the Northlands.