There were no rooms available, a situation that surprised Locklear, but the innkeeper gave them leave to sleep in the commons. Owyn grumbled at the need, but Gorath kept his thoughts to himself.
So far no one had objected to the moredhels presence along the way, either because they didnt recognize him for what he was, mistaking him for an elf, or because a moredhel with renegade humans in these mountains was not all that unusual a sight. Whatever the cause, Locklear was grateful he didnt need to deal with curious onlookers.
They ate at a crowded table, and after the meal listened to an indifferent troubadour. There were some games of chance and Locklear itched to try his hand at some cards, either pashawa or pokir. He resisted the impulse, as he could ill afford to lose, and one lesson taught him by his father and older brothers was dont gamble what you cant afford to lose.
As the inn settled down and those sleeping in the commons began to claim corners and places under tables, Locklear approached the barkeep, a heavy-set man with a black beard. Sir? he asked as Locklear moved between two other men to stand before him.
Tell me, friend, began Locklear. Is there a merchant in this town who deals in gems?
The barkeep nodded. Three doors down on the right. Names Alescook.
Good, said Locklear. I need to purchase a gift for a lady.
The barkeep grinned. I understand, sir. Now, one word: caution.
I dont understand, said Locklear.
Im not saying Kiefer Alescook cant be trusted, but lets just say the source of some of his merchandise is a bit dodgy.
Ah, said Locklear, nodding as if now he understood. Thanks. Ill bear that in mind.
Locklear returned to the table and said, Ive found our man. Hes nearby and well see him first thing in the morning.
Good, said Gorath. I tire of your company.
Locklear laughed. Youre not exactly an ale and fair song yourself, Gorath.
Owyn said, Well, whatever. Im tired and if were to sleep on the floor, I dont want to get too far from the fire.
Locklear realized that men were now bedding down for the night and replied, Over there.
They moved to the indicated spot and unrolled their bedding. After a few minutes of listening to the sounds of hushed conversation from those few men still at the tables or the door opening and closing as men left to return to their homes, Locklear fell into a deep sleep.
The merchant looked up as the three men entered the room. He was an old man, looking frail to the point of infirmity. He regarded the three with rheumy eyes. He studied Gorath for a moment, then said, If youve come for gold, I sent it north with one of your kind two days ago.
Gorath said, I did not come for gold.
Locklear said, We came looking for information.
The merchant fell silent. After a moment, he said, Information? Find a rumour-monger. I deal in gems and other fine items.
And from what we hear, youre not too particular as to the source of those items.
Are you suggesting I deal in stolen property? demanded the old man, his voice rising.
Locklear held up his hand. I suggest nothing, but I am seeking a particular stone.
What?
A ruby, unusual in size and character. I seek to return it to its rightful owner, no questions asked. If you came by it, no fault will be placed at your feet, if you help us recover it. If you dont, then I suggest you may receive a visit from a royal magistrate and some very disapproving guardsmen from the garrison at Tyr-Sog.
The old mans expression turned calculating. His balding pate shone in the light of a single lantern that hung overhead. With feigned indifference he said, I have nothing to hide. But I may be able to help you.
What do you know? asked Locklear.
Lately, my business has been brisk, but its an unusual sort of trade, and Ive been in this business for fifty years, lad.
Recently, Ive been handling transactions for parties I have not met, through agents and couriers. Most unusual, but profitable. Gems of high quality, many of them very rare, even remarkable, have passed through my hands.
Tsurani gems? asked Locklear.
Precisely! said the old man. Yes, similar enough to our own rubies, sapphires, emeralds and the like to be recognized as such, but with slight variations only an expert might notice. And also, other gems unlike any found on this world.
Whom do you represent? asked Locklear.
No one known to me, said the old man. At irregular intervals of late, dark elves like your companion have come here, and they drop off gems. Later a man comes from the south and brings me gold. I take a commission and wait for the dark elves to return and take the gold.
Gorath turned to Locklear. Delekhan. Hes using the gold to arm our people.
Locklear held his hand up, requesting silence. Well talk later. To the old man he said, Who buys the gems?
I dont know, but the man who receives them is known as Isaac. He lives down in Hawks Hollow.
Have you seen this Isaac? asked Locklear.
Many times. Hes a young man, about your height. Light brown hair he wears long to his shoulders.
Does he speak like an Easterner?
Yes, now that you mention it. He sounds court bred at times.
Locklear said, Thank you. I will mention your aid should any official investigation come of this.
I am always eager to help the authorities. I run a lawful enterprise.
Good. Locklear motioned toward Goraths purse and said, Sell him the stone.
Gorath took out the snow sapphire he had taken from the dead moredhel and put it down before Alescook.
The merchant picked it up and examined it. Ah, a nice one. I have a buyer for these down south. Ill give you a golden sovereign for it.
Five, said Locklear.
These are not that rare, said Alescook, tossing it back to Gorath, who started to put it away. But, on the other hand two sovereigns.
Four, said Locklear.
Three, and thats done with it.
They took the gold, enough for a meal along the way, left and went outside. To his companions Locklear said, Were passing through Hawks Hollow on our way to Krondor, so our next choice is easy. We find Isaac.
As he mounted his horse, Gorath said, This Isaac is known to you, then?
Locklear said, Yes. Hes the second biggest rogue Ive known in my life. A fine companion for drinking and brawling. If hes caught up in something dodgy, it wouldnt surprise me.
They turned their horses southward and left the large, rolling valley of Loriel, entering the narrow river valley leading southward. Locklear had been able to purchase a little food at the inn, but the lack of funds was starting to worry him. He knew they could hunt, but his sense of something dark approaching was growing by the day. A renegade moredhel chieftain bringing warning of possible invasion, money moving to the north to buy weapons from weapons runners, and somehow the Tsurani were involved. Any way he looked at this, it was a bad situation.
Unable to put aside his foreboding, he kept his thoughts to himself.
Gorath held up his hand and pointed. Softly he said, Something there.
I dont see anything, said Owyn.
If you did, I would not need to warn you, suggested the dark elf.
What do you see? asked Locklear.
An ambush. See those trees. Some lower branches have been hacked off, but not by a woodsmans axe or saw.
Owyn, Locklear asked, can you still do that blinding trick?
Yes, said Owyn, if I can see the man Im trying to blind.
Well, as were sitting here, pointing at them, I expect in a moment whoevers behind that brush is going to figure out weve spotted their ambush
Locklear was interrupted by six figures rushing forward from the brush on foot. Moredhel! shouted Locklear as he charged.
He felt the sizzling energy speed past him as Owyn sought to blind an advancing dark elf. The spell took effect, for the creature faltered, reaching up to his eyes in alarm.
Locklear leaned over the neck of his horse as an arrow flew past him. Get the bowman, he shouted to Owyn.
Gorath shouted a war cry and rode down one attacker while slashing at a second. Locklear engaged a dark elf who seemed indifferent to facing a mounted opponent, and Locklear knew from bitter experience how deadly the moredhel could be. While rarely mounted themselves, they had faced human cavalry for hundreds of years and were adept at pulling riders from horseback. Knowing their tactics, Locklear spurred his mount suddenly, turning it hard to the left. This knocked back the attacker he faced and revealed the one poised to leap and drag him down. Locklear slashed out with his sword, taking the creature in the throat, above his metal breastplate. Locklear kept his horse circling, so he quickly faced his first attacker.
The sizzling sensation told him Owyn was once more blinding an opponent, and Locklear hoped it was the bowman. The moredhel who had fallen back as the horse spun pressed forward with a vicious slash at Locklears leg.
He barely got his sword down in time and felt the shock run up through his arm. His stiff ribs hindered his parry and the flat of his own blade slammed into his horses side, causing the animal to shy.
Locklear used his left leg and moved the animal back into a straight line, twisting his body to keep his eyes upon his foe. His ribs hurt from the effort, but he stayed alive as the moredhel swung at him again. He knocked that blow aside and delivered a weak counter which slapped his opponent in the face, irritating him more than doing any real damage.
But the blow did slow the moredhels advance, and Locklear got his horse turned to face his foe. Locklear remembered something his father had drilled into him and his brothers; a soldier who has a weapon and doesnt use it is either an idiot or dead.
His horse was a weapon, and Locklear put his legs hard against his horses flanks and tugged hard on the reins with his off hand. The horse picked up a canter, and to the moredhel it was as if the horse suddenly leaped at him.
The warrior was a veteran and dodged to one side, but Locklear reined his horse in, turning hard to the left. To the moredhel, it looked as if Locklear was turning away, and the creature pressed forward.
Locklear kept the horse turning in a tight circle, and suddenly the moredhel realized his error as the young squire completed his circle with a slashing downward blow. This was no irritating tap, but a powerful blow which smashed bone as it cut into the side of the moredhels skull.
Locklear glanced toward Gorath and saw him beset by two foes, then looked back to Owyn, and saw that he was on foot a hundred yards away and holding a swordsman at bay with his staff. Hoping the bowman was still blinded by Owyns magic, Locklear rode to Owyns rescue.
He kicked hard at his horses flanks and the animal leaped forward so that he was approaching at a gallop when the moredhel heard him coming. The dark elf turned to look at his second opponent, giving Owyn the opening to strike with the butt of his staff. He broke the creatures jaw and sent him slumping to the ground.
Locklear reined his horse in so suddenly the animal planted his hooves and almost sat. Spinning the horse around, Locklear waved to Owyn, shouting, Keep the bowman off us!
As if the Goddess of Luck had turned a deaf ear to him, Locklear was lifted out of the saddle by an arrow. He struck the ground hard, barely avoiding broken bones by rolling. The arrow in his left shoulder snapped and the pain caused his vision to swim and took his breath away.
For the briefest instant, Locklear fought to keep conscious, then he felt his eyes focus and he willed away the pain in his shoulder. A strangled cry behind him made him turn. Over him reared a moredhel, sword raised to strike. Suddenly Gorath was behind the moredhel, and he plunged his sword into the moredhels back.
Owyn ran past, wheeling his staff above his head. Locklear looked up as his would-be killer fell to his knees, then keeled over. Gorath turned before Locklear could speak and ran after Owyn.
Locklear rose slowly on wobbly legs as he saw Owyn rush forward and strike a moredhel bowman who was vainly rubbing his eyes as if trying to clear them. The bowman was clubbed to his knees, and died a moment later as Gorath delivered the killing blow.
Gorath spun around in a circle once, as if seeking another enemy, but Locklear saw the six were dead. Gorath stood with his sword in hand, frustration on his face, then he shouted in rage. Delekhan!
Locklear stumbled to the dark elf and said, What?
They knew we were coming! said Gorath.
Owyn said, Somehow they got word south?
Gorath put up his sword. Nago.
What? asked Locklear.
Not what, who, said Gorath. Nago. Hes one of Delekhans sorcerers. He and his brother Narab served the murderer. They are powerful chieftains in their own right, but right now theyre doing Delekhans bidding. Without their help, Delekhan never would have risen to power and overthrown the chieftains of the other clans. Without their help, these his hand swept in a circle, indicating the dead moredhel would not be here waiting. He knelt next to one of the dead and said, This was my cousin, my kinsman. He pointed to another one. That one is from a clan that has been sworn enemy to mine for generations. That they are both serving this monster hints at his power.
Locklear indicated his shoulder and sank to the ground. Owyn examined it and explained, I can get the arrowhead out, but its going to hurt.
Locklear said, It already hurts. Get on with it.
While Owyn ministered to Locklear, Gorath said, Nago and Narab both have the power of mind speech. Especially with one another. Those we killed on the road to your town of Loriel, or another who spied us, must have passed word to one of the brothers. He in turn alerted these as to our whereabouts.
Locklear said, So the chances are good that before they died, one of these also let Nago know we are here?
Almost certainly.
Wonderful, said Locklear through gritted teeth as Owyn used his dagger to cut out the arrowhead. His eyes teared and his vision swam again for a moment, but by breathing slowly and deeply he kept conscious.
Owyn dusted the wound with a pack of herbs from his belt pouch then placed a cloth over it. Hold this here; press hard, he instructed. He went to the nearest body and robbed it of a strip of cloth, cut away with his dagger, then returned to bind it tightly around Locklears shoulder. Between that wound to your ribs and this shoulder, your left arm is close to useless, squire.