The History of Krynn: Vol V

by Dragon Lance

  Huma’s throat felt dry. “I was lucky.”

  “Luck is a skill. Were you to live much longer, you might learn that.”

  Both knight and minotaur tensed. Each expected the forest to overflow suddenly with the ghoulish forms of countless dreadwolves. Nothing materialized, and the single creature mocked them again with its nearly human smile.

  “You have nothing to fear from me. No, if anything, you should fear yourself, Knight of the Crown. At the moment, you are your own worst enemy.”

  With another laugh, the dreadwolf sprang to its feet. Kaz swung at it, but the creature merely spun around and sprinted off into the woods. Both knew there was no following.

  “What was that all about?” the minotaur wondered.

  “He came to mock me, it seems.” Huma sheathed his sword. “But why would Crynus even bother with someone like me?”

  “Perhaps he is more interested in this friend of yours. Perhaps this friend is not so close to capture, and this is merely some ploy. Who is this Magius?”

  Huma briefly related the details of the night’s incident. The minotaur’s face darkened as he realized all this had happened while he slept. As Huma finished, some of the other knights began to stir.

  “What should I do?”

  Kaz shook his head. “I know what I might do, but your ways are not mine, Knight of Solamnia. I suggest you try the walking corpse. He seems to be your ally.”

  Kaz was right, Huma decided. Maybe Rennard could explain the words of Galan Dracos.

  Suddenly a great wind picked up and several huge shapes seemed to materialize out of the sky itself. All around the camp, knights were looking up into the sky at a sight that could only inspire them. Majestic, winged creatures circled the camp several times; gold, silver, bronze, copper, the dragons were magnificent in their glory. A few brass dragons flew alongside, but only a few. They much preferred the heat of the deserts.

  Huma estimated some thirty to forty of the creatures, quite a massive force, especially if organized. That was the one advantage they had over their dark cousins; the dragons of Takhisis were apt to fight among themselves, sometimes even in battle. The dragons of light were always quick to take advantage of such incidents.

  With the coming of the dragons, Huma momentarily forgot his fears. The presence of dragons always filled him with an almost childlike delight. He began to hurry to where they were landing, ignoring the shouts of Kaz, who had no desire to confront dragons so soon again.

  Huma was not the only one running. Even the veterans came rushing, for a visit by the dragons often meant news of great importance.

  When Huma arrived at the place of landing, he saw that the three commanders of the army were already engaged in conversation with an immense dragon of gold. Despite its massiveness, the dragon spoke in quiet, almost scholarly tones. The creature’s news must have proved troubling, though, for Huma noted the dark look on Lord Oswal’s face.

  Huma spotted Rennard. The knight seemed even more pale than usual and looked surprised when Huma called to him.

  “What news, Rennard?”

  “The eastern forces are in retreat.”

  The tonelessness of Rennard’s voice caused Huma to miss the magnitude of the gaunt knight’s statement. When realization did hit, Huma could only stand and gape before finally drawing enough breath to spit out the same words he had just heard. He repeated them once more, then shook his head.

  “It’s not possible! The knighthood has never suffered such a defeat!”

  “It has now.”

  They were forced to wait while the commanders and the gold dragon continued their discussion. Kaz stepped up next to Huma, the look on the minotaur’s face indicating that he had heard the news. The young knight wondered how the mammoth easterner felt. Still, the minotaur could not return to the enemy after killing one of his commanders.

  As if reading his thoughts, Kaz looked down. “I have not regretted my act, Huma. I chose to strike down the ogre, and I would do so again. Besides, there is no true home for me among my people now. To them, I would be a coward and a weakling for showing pity to the helpless.”

  Most of the other dragons had landed by this time. Huma noticed one silver dragon that, if possible, seemed familiar. He was about to discard that as a ridiculous notion when the dragon turned in his direction and nodded. It was the same creature that had carried them to safety, the same dragon that had confronted the deadly black beast upon which had sat the warlord, Crynus, himself.

  A horn sounded from the direction of the front, a single mournful wail that died a slow death, as if he who blew the horn had lost all hope. As well he might have.

  The blackness once more was spreading across the heavens. Within minutes, it would overwhelm the first lines of the knights. Only the gods knew what would happen within its range.

  Bennett and Arak Hawkeye cursed loudly, while Lord Oswal now truly looked like an old man. His shoulders sagged, and he was forced to turn away from the dragon. The leviathan said nothing, but sympathy was evident.

  “Milord!” Bennett was now shouting. A wind was picking up rather quickly. Some of the dragons beat their wings nervously, sensing, perhaps, the sinister powers summoned to conjure this new threat.

  Lord Oswal seemed to recover at the sound of his nephew’s voice. Wasting no more time, he ordered the men to prepare for battle and lie in the nearest hollow. The camp would be left at the mercies of the wind. Now was not a time for tidiness. Now was life or death.

  Lowering his visor, Rennard shouted, “It was a ploy, our defeat of that other darkness. I’ll wager that the mages will find themselves up against even greater odds when they attempt to push it back, and I’ll wager they lose.”

  The wind forcing his breath back into his lungs, Huma followed the other knight’s example and lowered his visor. He gasped for air. Kaz, beside him, was forced to tolerate everything. Huma knew that the minotaurs sailed the roughest seas with relative ease, but still, Kaz had his hands over his face and he had fallen to one knee.

  Even so, the wind continued to grow.

  Loose equipment was beginning to blow away. The horses snorted wildly as a tent was torn from its stakes and tossed among them. Huma rushed over and pulled it free of the beasts. Unable to maintain his hold on the tent, Huma watched it go whirling away into the woods.

  The entire area became a deathtrap of a hundred assorted forms. The campfires were blown high and wild by the wind, and some tents burst into flames.

  Kaz was forced to cover his eyes lest he be blinded by the dust rising from the earth. “Sargas forgive me! It’s the king of all hurricanes, but on land!”

  Indeed, the minotaur’s words seemed to ring true. No tornado or storm that Huma had ever witnessed contained the power to cause such destruction. Trees were bending perilously close to the ground. A little more pressure and they would be torn from the earth and flung skyward, and there appeared to be no letup in the raging darkness. It was only a matter of time.

  Huma battled to maintain some sort of balance. How much more terrible was it out there at the front? Only the single horn blast had given them any warning. Crynus had planned well. Galan Dracos had planned well.

  Suddenly, calm reigned. The wind died to near-nothing and refuse rained upon the ground. Kaz stood, and Huma opened his visor to get a better view.

  “The spellcasters! They’ve done it.” They were there, far to his left.

  There were twelve in all, six of the Red Robes, six of the White. Even from his position, Huma could see the strain they were under. This was not the storm of the other day. That had been only a pale illusion, perhaps a test, or even a trick. Whatever the case, these mages were now dealing with a power far, far stronger than they had anticipated.

  One of the Red Robes fell, exhausted.

  A breeze developed.

  A horseman cut off Huma’s view. Huma looked up to see Bennett, fully in charge of himself and the situation, despite all the confusion. At the moment, with his hawki
sh, regal face and his intricately decorated armor, he might have been one of those who had ridden with Vinas Solamnus.

  Bennett scanned the area, then turned his gaze to the younger knight. “Get the horses. If we don’t release them, they’ll be killed when the magic-users fall.”

  As he spoke, another Red Robe wavered and then stumbled. The breeze increased to a squall.

  “We’re pulling back!” The wind forced Bennett to yell. We must not rout, though! If we do, nothing stands between the Queen’s jackals and Vingaard Keep! Nothing!”

  The ten remaining mages could no longer keep a unified effort. Several collapsed, and the few left standing were insufficient for the task. What kind of power were they up against?

  The sudden earth-shaking gale nearly threw Huma and Kaz to the ground. Bennett was only barely able to keep his horse under control. The warhorse was used to blood and steel, not wind so strong that it nearly swept the rider from the animal’s back. The steed’s natural instincts were to run for cover.

  Bennett shouted something unintelligible and then raced off. Huma, remembering his earlier instructions, half-crawled toward where the horses screamed their protests. Kaz followed. His balance restored, he now moved more easily than the knight, thanks to his bulk.

  Releasing the warhorses proved to be difficult. They had been worked up to a frenzy and regarded any moving object as a threat. The nearest kicked at Huma, and others snapped at his arm. Despite the danger, Huma had to get closer if he was to release them.

  As he drew near, iron-shod hooves came down on him, and only because a heavy form bowled him over did he escape crippling punishment. One hoof struck his right arm, a glancing blow but still sufficient to numb it.

  Huma struggled up and undid the reins. He had hoped to calm a few of the animals and possibly ride one to safety, but they were too far gone. He was half-dragged for a couple of yards before common sense got the better of him and he released his grip.

  “Kaz!” Huma did not see the minotaur and then suddenly remembered how the latter had blocked the attack by the maddened warhorse. Huma turned and saw the motionless form. Kaz had deflected the blows with his own body. The knight remembered the minotaur’s oath and let out an uncharacteristic curse. He would not have the minotaur’s death on his hands.

  “Kaz!” He kneeled next to his savior and turned him over. To his relief, the minotaur opened his eyes.

  “You are uninjured?” the bull-headed creature asked.

  “I should ask you that!” Huma almost laughed. If Kaz had the strength to be concerned about him, then the minotaur had the strength to live. He helped the huge creature to his feet.

  “Can you run?”

  The minotaur leaned forward. “Give me a moment. I fear the horse has pushed all the air from my lungs.”

  While Kaz recovered, Huma looked around. The camp was nearly deserted. A few knights struggled with equipment off to the south, and Huma thought he saw riders to the east. The tent where the clerics of Mishakal had treated the wounded was no longer there. There were no bodies that Huma could see; the mages had bought them enough time to escape, at least. He could only hope that Gwyneth had escaped safely, as well.

  Meanwhile, where were the dragons?

  Huma had not seen them since the eruption of the storm. The vast wall of chilling darkness was nearly upon the camp now, bringing along the visibility of a moonless night. Huma did not want to know what lurked within that darkness, but he forced himself to look up at it. When he did, he finally noticed the dragons of light.

  They were organized into what Huma recognized as one of their fighting formations, a sort of double “V.”

  Against the coming fury, they looked pitifully tiny.

  The wind was now joined by pouring rain. Kaz snorted angrily and commented on the smell of wet humans. He was now well enough to move, slowly but steadily. The torrent made movement tricky. Better slow and steady than risk having one or both of them lose their balance.

  It might as well have been night. No trace of sunlight remained. Ahead of him, Huma could make out dim shapes. At their present rate, even those would disappear as the power of the Dragonqueen overwhelmed the light.

  Overwhelmed the light …

  Had the knights lost at last? Huma shuddered at the thought of a world with only darkness. A world that the Queen ruled.

  Now, the only light was the bolts of fire that burst through the skies. They did not seem part of the storm and Huma glanced upward, wondering perhaps if it was the work of the dragons. Had they met the enemy at last? He wished – a mad wish, an afterthought – that he could help them in some way.

  “Huma!” The hiss startled him until he realized it was Kaz. The minotaur’s voice was hoarse. He was weaker with injury than he had led the knight to believe. “Huma! A light ahead!”

  It was true. Only a dim glow, like one of the insects of night, but a glow nonetheless. They had already started toward it when Huma recalled the dark sorcerer who had sought to ensnare him. Still, this light did not demand his obedience as that one had. Rather, it seemed to offer badly needed help. To be on the safe side, Huma drew his sword.

  They stumbled through mud, nearly falling once. Slipping and sliding, they continued toward the light.

  For a time, the glow seemed no closer than before. The distance gradually lessened, though, and Huma soon realized that the light was also coming toward them. He tightened his grip on the sword. At his side, Kaz was tensed.

  “I’ve been looking for you.”

  Before them, seeming to glow himself and quite untouched by the torrential winds and rain, stood Magius.

  Chapter 8

  Magius’s spell of light surrounded them like a tent. Beyond it loomed total darkness. They could hear the raging of the magical storm, although now they could not feel it; the spell that protected Magius protected Huma and Kaz as well. Only their footing was questionable, as the minotaur discovered. Huma helped him to his feet. The bottom half of the man-beast’s body was slick with mud.

  Magius smiled amiably at the sight, raising Kaz’s anger. Matters were not helped any by the spellcaster’s commentary on the slow pace of his companions, or the way in which not one speck of mud had dared to mar the magnificence of the mage’s clothing. Another spell, Huma knew, because Kaz had already attempted to kick some of the muck toward the backside of their savior. The mud had halted just inches from the unsuspecting target, seemed to hesitate, and then fallen to earth.

  Neither the knight nor the minotaur had any idea where Magius was leading them. They only knew that they were at last safe from the violent sorceries unleashed by the Dragongueen’s magic-users. That such power was at the evil ones’ beck and call had thrown Huma into a deep depression. Now more than ever, all seemed to be lost.

  Magius abruptly raised his free hand. The glow from his person dwindled away. Only the light from his simple staff, the light which Huma and Kaz had first noticed, continued to keep them from total darkness.

  They could see nothing ahead of them, but they could hear that the storm had ceased. They also could hear something else: the padding of many animal paws and the heavy breathing of large creatures. Huma’s hand whitened from strain as he tightened his grip on his sword. The creatures, night dwellers if they were able to travel with such ease, continued past. When they had been gone for several minutes and nothing followed, Magius lowered his hand.

  He turned momentarily back to the others. “Outrunners. Things bred and misbred by Galan Dracos. Small wonder some began to call him the Queen’s mortal consort. His twisted imagination is truly worthy of her.”

  Huma wondered who the “some” were whom Magius talked about. He longed to ask many questions about the mage’s last few years. Before going off for the Test, Magius had been a sarcastic, vain trickster who poked fun at his best friend and who constantly ridiculed the knighthood for its closed ways. Only Huma really understood that Magius was terribly insecure – one of the reasons he had sought to learn magic
– and that the taunts thrown at Huma served another purpose. The very same knights who despised young Huma were his champions. The honor of the knighthood always came first.

  This Magius, while he still had that streak of mischievousness, had gained a serious, brooding side that could overwhelm his personality.

  “Huma,” the minotaur whispered. “Where are we going?”

  Both of them had assumed that Magius was leading them to wherever the Solamnic forces were regrouping, or rather, where Huma hoped they were reforming. The young knight was becoming more and more certain that they were, in fact, heading in the opposite direction.

  “Magius?”

  “Hmmm?” The spellcaster did not even turn around.

  Hesitantly, Huma asked, “Are we heading back deeper into Solamnia?”

  “No.”

  “Where are we going?”

  Despite his carefree appearance, the magic-user’s voice carried uncertainty, perhaps even some fear. “We are going to my citadel, my domain.”

  Huma finally made clear his true concern. “Ergoth?”

  “Yes.” Magius continued walking, but the other two came to a halt. Small wonder the storm had abated so soon! They were walking through the enemy lines!

  “He has betrayed us!” Kaz reached out with his bare hands. Magius’s neck would be a fragile thing in the grip of the minotaur’s powerful claws.

  “No, Kaz!” Huma struggled briefly with the minotaur, but Kaz would not listen. The latter fully expected to be turned over to his less-than-forgiving brethren and executed.

  The massive hands formed a circle around the mage’s neck – and could go no further. The same spell that protected Magius from the mud also protected him from personal harm by physical means. The former benefit was, no doubt, just a fortunate side-effect, although with the vanity of Magius, it was difficult to say.

  Magius turned around, still in the near-grip of Kaz. Without warning, the minotaur swung one hand at the spellcaster’s head. If he had expected to succeed by sheer force, the minotaur was mistaken. Not only was the mage unmoved, but his attacker’s hand was flung back.