by Tracey Alley
arguments. I do have one condition.”
“Conditions Tares? I thought you had agreed to trust me,” Nikolai said with a mocking smile.
“I have and I will but we must do this one thing.”
“And what might that be? What’s so important that you’re willing to risk everything, including his safety?” Nikolai questioned scathingly.
“That you tell Slade the truth,” Tares paused briefly, watching while the necromancer absorbed the implications of Tares’ demand before continuing, “about everything.”
“Absolutely not, no way.” Nikolai said angrily, “I told you before I have no idea whether or not he can be trusted and I will not,” he hissed through clenched teeth, “jeopardize our friends life on the off-chance that he is who and what he says he is. I won’t do it.”
“Then we are at an impasse for I will not go ahead with anything unless you do.”
“Have you forgotten the ring, priest? That means I’m your boss. Now I don’t know how they work things down at The Tears of Belenus but in the real world when someone’s in charge it means they make the decisions.”
“I understand that, Nikolai,” Tares stumbled slightly on the necromancer’s name but he forced himself to use it, “but I am guided by Belenus, as you are guided by Bhaal. I know this is the right thing to do, I know we must do this.”
“I could kill you right now, tell everyone it was an accident and do it my way,” Nikolai said calmly, with not even a hint of anger.
Tares knew well that Nikolai had spoken nothing but the truth. By insisting on telling Slade the truth he was risking his life and yet, deep within himself, where all messages from Belenus came, the minotaur knew beyond doubt it was the right thing to do. He also knew instinctively that it would be better not to answer so Tares simply waited silently for the mage to decide. If Nikolai was determined that he would not accept the guidance of Belenus's servant while he was working on Belenus's errand then the big minotaur would certainly die. The moment stretched out interminably as Tares waited and then Nikolai did the last thing the minotaur had ever expected him to do; he laughed.
“I have to admit it Tares,” he said, “You followers of Belenus have got more guts than I would have credited you with. All right, I’ll tell Slade everything but only Slade and only because you seem so certain it’s the right thing to do. If I wasn’t sure of your loyalty to our friend I wouldn’t do it anyway.”
“Thank you,” Tares answered with a long shuddery sigh, slowly releasing the breath he had not been aware he was holding.
Together the two of them walked back towards the opening. Wulfstan, still mercifully unconscious, had been placed as close to the exit as possible to allow the cooling breeze to play over his badly burned body. Lara and Darzan had found some long grass and leaves and had fashioned them into a thin barrier between the soldier and the stony ground. Neither Slade nor Roulibard had returned from their errand yet and Trunk sat down near Wulfstan’s head and laid one huge hand on the wounded soldier’s forehead.
While Tares prayed for healing over Wulfstan’s prone form Nikolai gave his instructions to Lara and Darzan. When Lara glanced questioningly at Tares, the big minotaur nodded gravely but did not cease praying. From the corner of his eye Tares saw Slade and Roulibard return, slipping quietly in through the small opening.
“I’d say that whoever built this tunnel was pretty clever,” Roulibard began before trailing off when he looked at Wulfstan’s slowly healing body.
“What did you find?” Nikolai asked Slade after a moment when it had become obvious that Roulibard would not continue.
“It is very clever actually,” Slade said, “we’re outside the city walls but still fairly close. Somewhere in the region of the main harbor, I’d say. The entrance here comes out forty or fifty yards from an abandoned fishing hut, one of the long ones where they used to process the catches. You can still smell the stink but it basically seems to act as a cover for the entrance so if you just walk around the hut it’d be easy enough to blend in with everybody else.”
Nikolai gazed unseeingly at the stone wall and bit his lower lip, obviously thinking.
“But we’re outside the city walls you said?” Nikolai questioned, trying to visualize their position.
“Exactly, here,” Slade squatted down and picking up a small piece of stone he began to sketch a rough diagram of their position in the dirt, “we’re here, to the north is the road running up into the highland area. To the south is the main road to the smaller villages, the city walls end about here,” Slade used the stone to point to each location before drawing in the rough location of the walls, “and between there and the main harbor is what’s left of the old fishing village. Basically it looks like The Dark One just left it all in place, letting it fall into ruin by the way, and walled up the parts of the city he liked. It’s not as populated as the city, of course, and it’s pretty rough but I’d say this area is where most of the poor and the pirates make their homes. There’s a small open air market place but I doubt they had much in the way of supplies, for that you would have to get inside the city walls.”
“Can we get out to the east?” Nikolai asked after studying Slade’s crudely drawn map intently.
“The east? Not without going back into the city itself, the only way east is through the east gate on the other side of the city, and the harbors right here. Why would you want to go east?” Slade asked, looking up at the necromancer, a puzzled expression on his face.
“That’s something I will need to explain,” Nikolai answered, gesturing Slade to follow him back down the tunnel to the same spot where he and Tares had spoken earlier.
Roulibard leaned against the hard-packed earthen wall and slid down till he was sitting beside Wulfstan’s still unconscious body. Trunk, sitting the other side of Wulfstan, was still a mess, his normally tough, leathery skin still oozing liquid everywhere the flames had touched. The giant creature had one hand lying gently on Wulfstan’s forehead, almost as if he were imitating the minotaur priest in his prayers. Roulibard was amazed at how much healing Tares had achieved just in the short time that he and Slade had been away.
Although still unconscious the soldier seemed to be nearly whole again, the new skin pale pink and slightly puckered yet undeniably healed. Looking into Wulfstan’s face Roulibard decided, with some surprise, that he was pleased the big man would make a full recovery. He hated the soldier and his sneering, mocking, arrogant manner but Roulibard would not have wanted to be the cause of his death. As he reflected on his relief he wondered, not for the first time, exactly what manner of man he truly was; in the short time he had of clear memories he had discovered that he was capable of incredible rage. He was pleased to discover that his rage did not extend so far as to make him a killer. That was not how the young mage had pictured himself.
The big minotaur finally sat back; sweat dripping off his bovine head, his large nostrils flaring with exhaustion. Roulibard watched as Tares’ prayers continued to breathe life into Wulfstan even though the priest had physically stopped praying.
“He’ll be all right?” Roulibard asked quietly, not taking his eyes off the soldier.
“Yes, he’ll probably sleep for a while, although,” Tares paused, a strange note in his voice catching Roulibard’s attention, “possibly not. It can be very difficult to tell sometimes.”
“I’m glad,” Roulibard said with relief.
“As am I. I believe that we have a long journey ahead of us, it behooves us to have as many allies as possible, even if that means working with those we would not ordinarily.”
Roulibard looked up, Tares was gazing down the tunnel in the direction Nikolai and Slade had walked a troubled expression on his stern face.
“You don’t like Nikolai do you?” Roulibard asked.
“No I do not and yet,” Tares paused again frowning, “I will put those feelings aside and find a way for the two of us to work together.”
“This is i
mportant isn’t it? I mean more important than The Dark One trying to take over Saxenburg?”
“What makes you say that?” Tares turned to look at Roulibard, fixing the wizard with his gaze.
“I don’t know exactly, but I mean it has to be if Nikolai’s involved doesn’t it?”
“I didn’t know that you knew Nikolai that well,” Tares answered slowly.
“I don’t, I mean,” Roulibard struggled to answer, a frown now marring his usually open, smiling face, “I don’t think I’ve ever even met him before today. I just know…somehow.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“Didn’t Slade tell you? That I cannot remember a single thing about me or my life except for the past two days?”
Although the young mage had spoken in a light, airy tone Tares heard the very real pain underlying Roulibard’s statement. The priest could not imagine anything more horrific than to lose your memory. After all, what was a man if not the sum of his memories and existence? Without that how would you ever find a place in the world? A shudder tore through Tares’ body as he wondered what manner of tortures had been used on Roulibard that they would leave no outward mark and yet strip his mind to an empty shell. Little wonder the wizard seemed such a negative personality, leaving so little impression that at times the big minotaur had found that he had even forgotten