by Vance Moore
The pair worked their way through the animal refugees, turning those outside the fighting back to the forest. Now they crowded the Order soldiers. Kamahl stayed the peacemaker, though more and more he ached to smash a profane soldier to the ground. This fighting was wrong, and they must stop it. The barbarian's frustration mounted higher, and it was with relief that he found another member of the ambassador's party.
Turg announced himself by springing from ambush, as he had so often before. The faint flames Kamahl used to herd animals roared higher, drying the amphibian's skin as the creature came at him. The barbarian ducked as the frog's hind leg thudded into his mounts shoulder, his sword out of position. The jack threw himself onto the centaur. The frog was red with blood and gore from the battle. Kamahl wondered if the champion's fury was directed at him for following the ambassador or attempting to quell the slaughter. Regardless, the amphibian jumped to the druid's back and tried to rip his throat out.
The centaur showed the flexibility of his kind, turning around at his humanoid waist to fight the frog face to face. Kamahl saw them gripping arms, and he waited for parts of the amphibian to fly over the battlefield. As massive as the frog's muscles appeared, they were dwarfed by the forest warrior's mighty shoulders. He turned to his own defense as he left the centaur to his.
Without Seton's will, the animals swung back to fight. Two bears and dragonettes converged on Kamahl, and now the barbarian's fire lash burned away fur and scales. Other animals came closer, some fleeing battle, the others seeking it. The Knights of the Order came together, and a new summoning burned through the magical ether.
New creatures shimmered into being. They seemed huge mounds of crystals, some over twenty feet high. For a moment, Kamahl wondered if the Order forces were trying to construct a fortress. Then the apparent masses of rock began to move. Ponderous legs swung into new positions as the creatures started across the field. Light began to glimmer inside the crystal, rotating wildly before leaping out to engulf animals. The magic congealed, slowly trapping its victims in glowing layers. Bison and great bears struggled as if in tar until the bands of golden light hardened and left the victims immobile. The monstrous creatures knew their allies and rhinos ran freely among the trapped creatures, trampling and goring the helpless animals.
The megoliths moved their crystalline masses over their captives, both the living and the dead, and settled down for a moment. Then the legs raised the crystal bodies, and new bands of magic jumped forth to trap fresh prey. A cow kicked and thrashed as the energy tightened and locked it rigid, waiting for a rhino's killing thrust or a crushing death from the advancing giants. The megoliths had moved far enough that Kamahl could see the lane they left behind. Every drop of blood, morsel of flesh, or sprig of a plant was gone. A floor of corpses lay in front of them, and the crystal grew rosy as the mineral creatures helped the Order sweep the field clean.
"The drive is broken," Seton croaked from behind Kamahl. The barbarian turned to the centaur. The druid's face was black with an oily liquid, and water wept copiously from his eyes. Of Turg, there was no sign.
"The ambassador's jack vomited his bile into my eyes as we struggled," Seton said, peering myopically into Kamahl's face. "1 wrenched his shoulder and would have pulled his arm off but for the burning of its juices."
The centaur tried to wipe his eyes clear, and Kamahl pulled a canteen from his gear. The forest warrior tilted his head back and poured the water directly into his eyes.
"I think the battle is done," he gasped and handed the nearly empty container back to the barbarian. Animals fleeing the conflict proved the centaur's word good. A bear lumbered by, giving only a glance in their direction before continuing on its way. However, there were other creatures on the field. A rhino stabbed its way through the flow of animal refugees and headed for Kamahl. His axe spun into its skull, dropping it into the bloody mud. Others converged on him, and he drove his horse forward, trying to get away from the approaching beasts. The megoliths reversed course, and energy folded over the barbarian despite his horse's efforts to outrun the spell. The mare's gallop suddenly stopped, and the horse tumbled to the ground. Kamahl threw himself free before he could be trapped beneath the body.
He rolled, the sword flying free from his grip. He came to his feet with knives of fire in his hands. Seton swung his club, snapping a rhino's horn free as he struggled against the megoliths' magic. Kamahl ran to his aid, his power severing crystal as he turned to destroy the mineral giants. But the battlefield held only the victors and the dead. The creatures of the forest merged back into the trees as the rhinos and megoliths began to fade away.
The barbarian hobbled to his horse, a deep gaping wound on her side telling him that a rhino had attacked while he scrambled to his feet. He knelt and laid his hand on her side.
"Thank you," He whispered, then stripped the saddle and gear from the corpse.
"My friend," Seton said tremulously, "I can't see you-" The centaur collapsed, rolling up against the other corpses in the field. Kamahl paused for a second and threw away everything, racing to find a healer. •к "к "к "к "k
Kamahl did not know how long he searched before he found someone willing to help his friend. He was sure that the exhausted sergeant came more because of the barbarian's sword than belief in his story. Once he checked to see if Seton was alive, the Order soldier fell into a healing trance.
The mountain warrior struggled to clear the centaur's eyes, scouting for water among the fallen to wash away the poison and quench the druid's raging thirst. Kamahl waited, wondering if he should fetch others to help, but the cries of the wounded could be heard in the distance. The barbarian counted himself lucky to have found the sour sergeant.
"I have done what I can," the Order soldier announced suddenly, standing up and moving away from the patient he had lavished so much care over.
"I do not know how to repay you," Kamahl started to say.
"Don't bother," came the gruff reply. The man stretched, his back crackling at the movement. "I saved the eyes. I don't know if he will be able to use them. Bring him to the main camp when he feels able to walk."
"I will thank you as soon as I can guide him up the road," Kamahl said. "I will do it right before I speak with Lieutenant Kirtar."
The sergeant laughed harshly. "I won't be seeing you then. Kirtar has been recalled. The captain was going to haul him back to the citadel to explain his conduct. If 1 know Captain Pianna, he was on griffin back within a minute of the battle's end."
All that riding and he must have missed Kirtar by only minutes. The barbarian stood rigid, wondering how he would catch up with the lieutenant now.
*****
Kamahl sat in his camp, eating a piece of travel bread. Despite the tons of meat lying in the field, he had gathered none of it. Besides being no scavenger, he could not afford the trouble a fire might bring.
Seton recovered some, and the barbarian was able to lead the centaur to the Order camp perimeter, though he did not follow the druid to the healers. He left the giant and returned to his solitary tent.
He waited for a day, eating dry travel food and ignoring the stench. The barbarian meditated, but the core of his anger made his attempts to find peace meaningless. On the second day, Seton returned.
The druid's face was discolored, the apelike features splotched with what looked like blue-and- black dye. His eyes seeped a steady stream, and he advance slowly into the camp, watching where he stepped.
"It looks worse than it really is," the forest warrior said. "The healers believe that with time my sight may improve." The giant tried to sound cheerful, but it was obviously difficult. The barbarian came closer, gripping his friend firmly by the lower arm.
"I have not wasted my time in the Order's camp," Seton explained, lowering himself gingerly. "The lieutenant was called to the Citadel to explain his policy of slaughter.
"The captain sent word that all forays into the forest would cease pending further information. There is talk th
at the bird warrior might be demoted or transferred far to the East." Seton paused, speaking more seriously. "The Mer Ambassador and his jack have also left for the Citadel, 'hoping to resolve the current difficulties,'" the druid repeated, the bitterness plain in his voice.
"The quest must not end here," Seton urged. "Reclaiming the orb or foiling the ambassador's plans, your journey must continue." The druid stood and picked up Kamahl's gear.
"This was not my first stop after the Order's healers released me," the woodland fighter said. "I was able to secure you another steed. Come and I will introduce you to him." The centaur picked up Kamahl's gear with a single hand and headed into the forest, not bothering to wait for a response.
The druid walked through the trees, his huge strides tentative but still forcing the barbarian to step rapidly to keep up with him. They arrived at the foot of a tall cliff after a long walk, one that obviously taxed the giant's strength. The vertical rock face climbed hundreds of feet, the limbs of trees seeming to peek out over the top of the ridge.
"Unless this steed can fly or is invisible, I do not see it." Kamahl quipped as he reached the centaur's side. The druid chuckled painfully as he dropped the barbarian's gear and looked blearily to the sky.
"Emerald!" he called. "Your rider is here!" A head popped out over the top of the cliff, eyes swiveling separately to peer down on the two below. A lizard stepped onto the side of the sheer wall, standing vertically a moment before it started down.
"Emerald volunteered last night to provide you with transportation. He fed this morning and should be ready for days of hard riding."
The barbarian moved back, nervous to be under a creature of such size descending with no visible means of support.
"Do not worry," said Seton. "Emerald's kind can walk on a ceiling as long as the surface can hold the weight."
The lizard was at the bottom of the cliff and stepped to the ground. Its body stood as high as a horse, though it was much longer. Emerald's long tail beat against the rock.
"Exactly how am I going to ride it?" Kamahl said as he approached the beast. The centaur said nothing, swinging the saddle onto the animal's back. A long tongue darted out of the gecko's mouth and worked along the underside of the saddle. When the druid settled it all the way down, it squelched and then locked solid.
"That will hold you and your gear even if you are upside down," Seton said with satisfaction. "Though you might want to grip with something besides your knees. Now climb aboard, and tell me how it feels."
Kamahl approached cautiously and, using the saddle horn, pulled himself up. The lizard was huge, but the barrel of its body was close to the same width as a horse's.
"How do I care for it?" Kamahl said uncertainly.
Seton laughed. "Emerald is as smart as you are, even if he can't talk," the centaur explained. "When you want to get the saddle off, just tell him and lift. That tongue will smear something on its back that will break the saddle's grip. When you want to start out again, just do as I did." The druid lifted the rest of Kamahl's gear to him and helped secure it. "Emerald knows the way to the Order and how to avoid trouble. Just trust him to know where he is going."
The forest warrior stepped back and settled down to rest. Before Kamahl could say anything the gecko started with a jerk.
"Good luck in your quest, Kamahl," Seton called.
The barbarian could only wave, hoping the druid saw him as he concentrated on adapting to the lizard's gait.
CHAPTER 15
"The air is no place for a merman," Laquatus muttered as he held tightly to the soldier's waist. The ground was distant, and he was reminded of long swims in tropical seas. The clear water revealed the ocean floor far below. However, the air would not support the ambassador as he drifted down. He felt his jack's fears and knew only his unbending will and orders kept the frog from panic. He wondered how bruised the amphibian's companion would be when they landed again. He had convinced the captain his contacts with the Cabal and other continental powers would help her in discovering the source of the disturbances. Laquatus hoped to get her alone and work his mind-altering magic, but she gave him no chance. The strain of controlling Turg and his own fear sapped his energy throughout the griffin ride. Now the final destination was in sight, and he could hardly wait for the feel of dry land beneath his feet.
Laquatus regretted his diminished power. He had been forced to abandon the mercenaries. Pianna was barely willing to allow the ambassador and his champion to accompany her. The merman hoped the underwater explorers had finally reached the Citadel. The promise of sea warriors and competent minions made the loss of the mercenaries bearable.
The Citadel was a massive conglomeration of stone. The castle itself was on top of a rocky hill, the only visible road to the gates exposed to attack from above for its entire length. Double walls of stone reinforced with dozens of towers enclosed the top of the mesa. The central keep was less martial, the fineness of the stone work contrasting with the crudely worked blocks of the outer walls. But however brilliant the white rock appeared, Laquatus still noticed bars on the windows.
There was a town at the base of the hill, tucked between the living rock and a stream flowing down from the north. The slate roofs of the tall houses nearly hid the cobblestone streets. The avenues looked crowded, and the ambassador could see wagons and tents in the town squares. The griffins had often soared over long caravans of refugees headed for the Citadel. The merman wondered where the additional people could be placed. The courtyard that the griffins aimed for seemed clear of any but Order officials, and Laquatus tried to guess how much longer that would be the case.
The landing was a blur as the ambassador closed his eyes. The skybox had felt rock solid in comparison to a living steed, and he wondered if his sudden fear of heights would be temporary. The griffin landed with a lurch as it stumbled to a halt. Laquatus turned and watched Turg's ride land. The moment the flier's claws touched the ground the frog was off, running his hands over the solidity of the cobbles. It took the merman several moments to dismount, his legs locked with cramps. Finally, he commanded his champion to aid him to the ground. The Order soldiers showed disgusting ease as they hurried to unload their steeds of cargo, saddles, and harnesses.
The stablemen moved slowly, as if listening for news. They looked at the pit frog and the ambassador with wide eyes, and Laquatus wondered what wild rumors would be circulating by the day's end. The officers and their guests stepped to the main keep, the several-story building looming over the merman like a cliff.
They moved into the darker room, Laquatus's eyes adapting easily to the dim light coming through the narrow windows. Food was laid out on trestles. It was an example of the journey's hardship that Turg did not immediately fall upon the buffet but squatted down at the ambassador's side. The hugeness of the hall seemed to siphon the noise of its few inhabitants away. The ambassador carefully enhanced his senses and ached at the sudden cacophony. He carefully reined in his energy, hoping that the casting of his spell was undetected. The journey had taken quite a toll on him as well.
The officers were off at an isolated table, small portions of food set before them, though neither ate. The merman's enhanced vision could see the irritation on both of their faces. The rest of the griffin scouts gave them a wide berth, and the server left a flagon of wine at the table rather than standing ready to pour. The ambassador was assaulted by thunder, and Turg stood with a threatening gesture. A serving man stumbled back with a tray of bread and wine.
"Give it here, and then leave me alone!" Laquatus grated out. The impertinence of the man to disturb him while he was concentrating. Only the importance of eavesdropping prevented him from calling for the servant's supervisor. He made a note of the man's face for punishment at a later date. His attention shifted back to the officers in mid-argument.
"I did not return to stay behind these walls," Kirtar said with obvious exasperation. "The fight is to the west, against the creatures of the forest." The bird warrior
looked at the captain as if the stupidity of the original question could not be believed.
"I ordered you back to oversee the deployment of militias. Your fighting has changed nothing except to strew corpses amongst the trees." Pianna drank quickly, trying to gain breathing room, to the ambassador's eyes. "Ever since your entry in the Cabal tournament you have lost interest in the Order. Have you succumbed to the lure of wealth and prizes?"
"Wealth is a tool we can use to build the Order," Kirtar said, hammering down a goblet with a peal that split Laquatus's ears. "As for the prizes, I procured one that was worth any number of villages that fell while I competed."
The lieutenant ignored the captain's indignant gasp and opened his pouch. Pianna looked down into the pouch, her eyes locked on the sphere. The lieutenant's fingers cupped it and raised it before her. The room fell silent as Order mages detected the throb of contained power and looked to the officers. Laquatus felt a surge of envy as the lieutenant pushed the sphere back into his pouch. The ambassador was surprised by the sour expression of the officer's face and could barely hear him mutter, "It's dimmer still."
"Impressive enough," the captain said agreeably. "And I can understand your fascination with it. But what have you done since you received it?" The silence seemed to echo in the merman's ears.
"I see," continued Pianna as several seconds passed without response. "Your prize was not used nor provoked any response other than influencing you to ignore your recall and engage in indiscriminate slaughter." She shook her head sadly.
"You are less than you were when you left," she stated emphatically. "You had plans, but once you held that power in your hands you could only use violence. It corrupted you without doing anything but offering you magic you had not earned." Bitterness and resolution filled her tone. "I have never seen a better example of an artifact curbing and shrinking a soul. You must give it up."
"I will not!" replied the lieutenant hotly. "It is only that I don't know how to use it," he confessed, his pale skin flushing in the dim light. "It was bright with glory once, but every time I look at it, the visions grow fainter. I don't know what to do. I know only that this is valuable, and it represents the salvation of the Order."