Ehlana? Sephrenia gasped.
Keep your voice down! Aphrael muttered. She looked around. They were some distance to the rear of the army, but they were not alone. She reached out and touched Chiels bowed white neck, and Sephrenias palfrey obediently ambled off a little way from Kalten and Xanetia to crop at the frozen grass.
I cant get too many details, the Child Goddess said. Melideres been badly hurt, and Mirtais so enraged that theyve had to chain her up.
Who did it?
I dont know, Sephrenia! Nobodys talking to Danae. All I can get is the word hostage. Somebodys managed to get into the castle, seize Ehlana and Alcan and spirit them out. Sarabians beside himself. Hes flooded the halls with guards, so Danae cant get out of her room to find out whats really happening.
We must tell Sparhawk!
Absolutely not. Sparhawk bursts into flames when Ehlanas in danger. Hes got to get this army safely back to Matherion before we can let him catch on fire.
But
No, Sephrenia. Hell find out soon enough, but lets get everyone to safety before he does. Weve only got a week or so left until the sun goes down permanently and everythingand everyoneup here turns to solid ice.
Youre probably right, Sephrenia conceded. She thought a moment, staring off at the frost-silvered forest beyond the meadow. That word hostage explains everything, I think. Is there any way you can pinpoint your mothers exact location?
Youre probably right, Sephrenia conceded. She thought a moment, staring off at the frost-silvered forest beyond the meadow. That word hostage explains everything, I think. Is there any way you can pinpoint your mothers exact location?
Aphrael shook her head. Not without putting her in danger. If I start moving around and poking my nose into things, Cyrgon will feel me nudging at the edges of his scheme, and he might do something to Mother before he stops to think. Our main concern right now is keeping Sparhawk from going crazy when he finds out whats happened. She suddenly gasped and her dark eyes went very wide.
What is it? Sephrenia asked in alarm. Whats happening?
I dont know! Aphrael cried. Its something monstrous! She cast her eyes about wildly for a moment and then steadied herself, her pale brow furrowing in concentration. Then her eyes narrowed in anger. Somebodys using one of the forbidden spells, Sephrenia, she said in a voice that was as hard as the frozen ground.
Are you sure?
Absolutely. The very air stinks of it.
Djarian the necromancer was a cadaverous-looking Styric with sunken eyes, a thin, almost skeletal frame, and a stale, mildewed odor about him. Like the other Styric captives, he was in chains and under the close watch of Church Knights well-versed in countering Styric spells.
A cold, oppressive twilight was settling over the encampment near the ruins of Tzada when Sparhawk and the others finally got around to questioning the prisoners. The Troll-Gods had taken their creatures firmly in hand when the feeding orgy had come suddenly to an end, and the Trolls were now gathered around a huge bonfire several miles out in the meadow holding what appeared to be religious observances of some sort.
Just go through the motions, Bevier, Sparhawk quietly advised the olive-skinned Cyrinic Knight as Djarian was dragged before them. Keep asking him irrelevant questions until Xanetia signals that shes picked him clean.
Bevier nodded. I can drag it out for as long as you want, Sparhawk. Lets get started.
Sir Beviers gleaming white surcoat, made ruddy by the flickering firelight, gave him a decidedly ecclesiastical appearance, and he heightened that impression by prefacing his interrogation with a lengthy prayer. Then he got down to business.
Djarian replied to the questions tersely in a hollow voice that seemed almost to come echoing up out of a vault. Bevier appeared to take no note of the prisoners sullen behavior. His whole manner seemed excessively correct, even fussy, and he heightened that impression by wearing fingerless wool gloves such as scribes and scholars wear in cold weather. He doubled back frequently, rephrasing questions he had previously asked and then triumphantly pointing out inconsistencies in the prisoners replies.
The one exception to Djarians terse brevity was a sudden outburst of vituperation, a lengthy denunciation of Zalastaand Cyrgonfor abandoning him here on this inhospitable field.
Bevier sounds exactly like a lawyer, Kalten muttered quietly to Sparhawk. I hate lawyers.
Hes doing it on purpose, Sparhawk replied. Lawyers like to spring trick questions on people, and Djarian knows it. Beviers forcing him to think very hard about the things hes supposed to conceal, and thats all Xanetia really needs. We always seem to underestimate Bevier.
Its all that praying, Kalten said sagely. Its hard to take a man seriously when hes praying all the time.
Were Knights of the Church, Kaltenmembers of religious orders.
Whats that got to do with it?
In his own mind is he more dead than alive, Xanetia reported later when they had gathered around one of the large fires the Atans had built to hold back the bitter chill. The Anaraes face reflected the glow of the fire, as did her unbleached wool robe.
Were we right? Tynian asked her. Is Cyrgon augmenting Djarians spells so that he can raise whole armies?
He is, she replied.
Was that outburst against Zalasta genuine? Vanion asked her.
Indeed, my Lord. Djarian and his fellows are increasingly discontent with the leadership of Zalasta. They have all come to expect no true comradeship from their leader. There is no longer common cause among them, and each doth seek to wring best advantage to himself from their dubious alliance. Overlaying all is the secret desire of each to gain sole possession of Bhelliom.
Dissension among your enemies is always good, Vanion noted, but I dont think we should discount the possibility that theyll all fall in line again after what happened here today. Could you get anything specific about what they might try next, Anarae?
Nay, Lord Vanion. They were in no wise prepared for what hath come to pass. One thing did stand out in the mind of this Djarian, however, and it doth perhaps pose some danger. The outcasts who surround Zalasta do all fear Cyzada of Esos, for he alone is versed in Zemoch magic, and he alone doth plunge his hand through that door to the nether world which Azash opened. Horrors beyond imagining lie within his reach. It is Djarians thought that since all their plans have thus far gone awry, Cyrgon in desperation might command Cyzada to use his unspeakable art to raise creatures of darkness to confront and confound us.
Vanion nodded gravely.
How did Stragens plan affect them? Talen asked curiously.
They are discomfited out of all measure, Xanetia replied. They did rely heavily on those who now are dead.
Stragen will be happy to hear that. What were they going to do with all those spies and informers?
Since they had no force capable of facing the Atans, Zalasta and his cohorts thought to use the hidden employees of the Ministry of the Interior to assassinate diverse Tamul officials in the subject kingdoms of the empire, hoping thereby to disrupt the governments.
You might want to make a note of that, Sparhawk, Kalten said.
Oh?
Emperor Sarabian had some qualms when he approved Stragens plan. Hell probably feel much better when he finds out that all Stragen really did was beat our enemies to the well. Theyd have killed our people if Stragen hadnt killed theirs first.
Thats very shaky moral ground, Kalten, Bevier said disapprovingly.
I know, Kalten admitted. Thats why you have to run across the top of it so fast.
The sky was cloudy the following morning, thick roiling cloud that streamed in from the west, all seethe and confusion.
Because it was late autumn and they were far to the north, it seemed almost that the sun was rising in the south, turning the sky above Bhellioms escarpment a fiery orange and reaching feebly out with ruddy, low-lying light to paint the surging underbellies of the swift-scudding cloud with a brush of flame. The campfires seemed wan and weak and very tiny against the overpowering chill here on the roof of the world, and the knights and their friends all wore fur cloaks and huddled close to the fires. There were low rumbles off to the south, and flickers of pale, ghastly light.
Thunder? Kalten asked Ulath incredulously. Isnt it the wrong time of year for thunderstorms?
It happens, Ulath shrugged. I was in a thunderstorm north of Heid once that touched off a blizzard. Thats a very unusual sort of experience.
Whose turn is it to do the cooking? Kalten asked him absently.
Yours, Ulath replied promptly.
Youre not paying attention, Kalten, Tynian laughed. You know better than to ask that question.
Yours, Ulath replied promptly.
Youre not paying attention, Kalten, Tynian laughed. You know better than to ask that question.
Kalten grumbled and started to stir up the fire.
I think wed better get back to the coast today, Sparhawk, Vanion said gravely. The weathers held off so far, but I dont think well be able to count on that much longer.
Sparhawk nodded.
The thunder grew louder, and the fire-red clouds overhead blanched with shuddering flickers of lightning. Then there was a sudden, rhythmic booming sound.
Is it another earthquake? Kring cried out in alarm.
No, Khalad replied. Its too regular. It sounds almost like somebody beating a very big drum. He stared at the top of Bhellioms wall. Whats that? he asked pointing.
It was like a hilltop rearing up out of the forest beyond the knife-like edge of the top of the cliffvery much like a hilltop, except that it was moving.
The sun was behind it, so they could not see any details, but as it rose higher and higher they could make out the fact that it was a kind of flattened dome with two pointed protuberances flaring out from either side like huge wings. And still it swelled upward. As they could see more of it, they realized that it was not a dome. It seemed to be some enormous, inverted triangle instead, wide at the top, pointed at the bottom and with those odd winglike protuberances jutting out from its sides. The pointed bottom seemed to be set in some massive column. Since the light was behind it, it was as black as night, and it rose and swelled like some vast darkness.