by Simon Hawke
“Perhaps,” Korahna said, “but at a price I cannot and will not pay.”
“Then I am afraid that you shall have no choice,” said Torian. “I did not come all this way for nothing.
Four men have died because of you, Korahna, and two more shall die when I catch up with them, provided the barrens have not already done them in. You have caused me a great deal of trouble, Your Highness, more than I would have suffered for any other woman. I intend to be compensated for my efforts, and you, Korahna, shall be that compensation.”
“We may have something to say about that,” Ryana said.
“You shall have precious little to say about anything, my lady,” Torian replied with scorn. “You enjoyed the hospitality of my tent, and you repay me by stealing my property.”
“Your property?” Korahna said with disbelief.
“Priestess or not, no one plays me for the fool,” Torian continued, ignoring Korahna’s outrage. He turned toward Sorak and raised his blade, using it to point at him. “And you, elfling—you I shall kill personally.”
“Talk won’t get it done,” said Sorak.
“Then I am done talking,” Torian said, raising his blade and leaping toward him.
With a motion so deceptively fast and smooth that it almost looked lazy, Sorak drew Galdra and parried Torian’s blade as it came down. The moment Torian’s sword came in contact with the elven steel, it split cleanly in two. Torian did not even feel the impact of the parry. His arm continued on with the downward stroke, throwing him off balance, and as the upper half of his sword blade clanged to the rock floor of the grotto, Torian recovered, staring with astonishment at what remained of his sword… the hilt and a foot of blade.
“You were saying?” Sorak said, raising one eyebrow. Torian’s eyes grew wide with fury. “Kill him!” he shouted to the mercenaries. “Shoot him down!”
The mercenaries raised their crossbows and shot their bolts, but though no more than fifteen paces separated them from their target, each bolt flew wide of its mark. The mercenaries gaped in astonishment.
Torian sputtered incoherently and screamed at them, spittle flying from his lips. “Idiots! What’s the matter with you, can’t you even hit a target not twenty feet away? Shoot him, I said! Shoot him! Shoot him!”
The mercenaries reached for fresh bolts, but suddenly all their arrows simply took flight on their own, leaping from their quivers and flying across the grotto to clatter against the far wall and drop into the pool.
Ryana’s bolt, however, did not miss its mark. It struck one of the mercenaries in the throat, and he fell, choking and gurgling and clutching at his neck where the arrow penetrated his larynx and poked through to the other side. As he collapsed, Ryana drew her sword. “The rest are mine,” she said. Torian gaped as she waded into the remaining mercenaries, swinging her sword with both hands.
With a scream of inarticulate rage, Torian drew his dagger and hurled it at Sorak.
Sorak merely raised his hand, and the dagger stopped in midair as if it had struck an invisible wall.
Torian’s jaw dropped in disbelief; the dagger clattered harmlessly to the ground. His hand clawed for his second dagger, but before his fingers could close around the hilt, the knife flew out of its sheath and sailed across the grotto in a high arc over Sorak’s head, falling into the waters of the pool behind him.
Seeing Torian disarmed, standing there stunned and apparently helpless, Korahna suddenly rushed toward him in a fit of royal outrage. “Your property, am I?” she said, her eyes blazing with fury. “I will show you whose property I am!”
“No, Princess!” Sorak cried out, but it was too late. She swung to backhand Torian across the face. As her blow fell, Torian took her hand, spun her around, and grabbed her from behind. Seizing her in a powerful grip, he held her before him, one arm clamped across her throat, the other gripping her by the hair. “Try any more of your tricks, elfling, and I’ll break her neck! Drop your sword, priestess!”
The two remaining mercenaries, though seasoned and experienced fighters, had had their hands full with Ryana. Her assault had backed them to the mouth of the grotto, and now, when she saw that Torian had the princess, she hesitated, backing away slightly and holding her sword before her. The two mercenaries took advantage of the respite to spread apart, one to either side of her, ready to move in. Her gaze shifted quickly from them to Torian and back again.
“Drop your sword, I said!” Torian repeated. “Drop it or I’ll kill the bitch!”
Ryana hesitated. “Sorak…” she said, uncertain, while keeping a wary eye on her two antagonists, who held their ground.
“If you kill her,” Sorak said, “then there is nothing to save you from me.”
“And if I let her go, I suppose you will graciously allow us to retire and go our way,” said Torian sarcastically. He gave a barking laugh. “No, my friend, I think not. You are not that stupid. You know that I would only bide my time and try again. You could not afford to let me live. I advise you to tell the priestess to drop her sword, before I grow impatient.”
“Sorak,” she said, “what should I do?”
“Don’t listen to him, Ryana,” Sorak said. “Those men will kill you the moment you drop your sword.”
“I give you my word that they shall not,” said Torian.
“You expect me to trust your word?” Sorak replied contemptuously.
“You do not have much choice,” said Torian. “But even so, you do not trust me. Consider this: I stand to gain nothing by having the priestess killed. She is of more value to me alive, as a hostage.”
“The princess is of more value to you, still,” said Sorak, stalling for time as his mind raced to find a way out of the situation. One quick twist and Korahna’s neck would be broken. And he felt sure that Torian would not hesitate to do it. “You came all this way for her. Kill her now, and what have you got to show for all your efforts?”
“Clearly, it would be a Joss,” Torian admitted in an even voice, “and doubtless it would mean my life, as well. However, I would have died denying you your satisfaction, and that would count for something, I suppose. You have some designs of your own for the princess, I’ll wager, else you would not have risked so much to bring her with you. The priestess, perhaps, would have helped her out of the goodness of her heart, and as a fellow preserver, but you? I think not. I think there is something in this for you, something that you want. A reward, perhaps, or something else that she has promised you.”
Sorak damned the man for his shrewdness. He had hit upon the truth, though he did not know exactly what it was. He did need the princess, quite aside from his concern for her, and Torian knew it.
“If release her now,” said Torian, “then there is, indeed, nothing to save me from you. And if I kill her, then I face death, as well. Either way, conditions would remain the same. I am prepared to meet them, one way or the other. But so long as she remains alive, well then, the game continues. I will take the priestess as my hostage to make sure you do not try any of your tricks. You have demonstrated that you are a master of the Way, and I have no more illusions about my ability to kill you. The priestess shall ensure that you do not kill me.”
“What do you propose?” asked Sorak tensely. Torian smiled, realizing he had turned things around dramatically and now had the upper hand. “I will make my way to Gulg with the princess and the priestess. You shall have the liberty to follow us, but not too closely, for if I see you, the priestess shall suffer for it, understood?”
“Understood.”
“Sorak, no!” Ryana cried. “We have little choice, Ryana,” he replied. “Listen to him, Priestess,” Torian said. “Now is not the time for foolish thoughts or noble gestures.”
“Go on,” said Sorak. “State your terms.”
“When I reach the safety of my family estate,” said Torian, “I shall release the priestess. Unharmed, so long as you do your part. The princess remains with me. Whatever reward she has promised you, I shall match it so
that you shall not walk away with nothing to gain. That will give you an incentive to continue on your way and trouble me no more. I have no desire to watch my back for the remainder of my life. You shall wait outside the gates of Gulg. I will send your reward with the priestess, and you can meet her there. If you see foot within the city gates, I will leave word to have you killed. Even a master of the Way cannot stand against an entire city guard.
“I will even allow you to retain your magic sword, though I am sorely tempted to demand that you surrender it. However, I am a practical man, and have no wish to antagonize you any further. You took something from me, and now I have it back. I am content to leave it at that, and even to pay you for all the trouble you have caused me. I will consider it an investment in the future. So… what is it to be? Shall we both be practical? Or shall we conclude this sad affair right here and now, to no good profit for either side?”
“Put down your sword, Ryana,” Sorak said.
“Sorak, no! Don’t listen to him! You cannot trust him!” she replied.
“I think I can trust him to look after his own interests,” Sorak said. “And it is in his interest to keep the bargain in good faith. Put down your sword.”
She hesitated, then, with an expression of disgust, threw down her sword.
Chapter Eight
It wasn’t very difficult for Sorak to trail Torian and his mercenaries without being seen. He did not even need to allow the Ranger to the fore to do it. Torian was an experienced tracker, but Sorak was an elfling, and not only did he have the training of the villichi to aid him in his task, he also had certain genetic advantages. He possessed superior senses and greater powers of endurance and could move more silently than a human ever could.
Torian, of course, would know that he was out there. He was no fool. He had threatened to take it out on Ryana if he caught even a glimpse of Sorak, but Sorak was reasonably confident even a man as experienced as Torian would not suspect just how close he could come without alerting them. He never allowed them out of his sight.
He did not trust Torian. What he had told Ryana was the truth: he was sure he could trust Torian to look after his own interests, but Torian’s interests did not necessitate leaving them alive. He had tried putting himself in Torian’s place in an effort to anticipate what he might do. That task proved as easy as allowing the cynical, self-centered Eyron to the fore.
“Simple,” Eyron had said. “If I were Torian, I would consider the available alternatives and choose whichever course was the most convenient and involved the least risk to myself, and I would act on that.”
“And what course would that be?” asked Sorak.
“Well, assuming you kept your part of the bargain, of course, then I, being Torian, would do likewise. Up to a point,” said Eyron. “I would make my way toward Gulg, taking care to keep a careful watch for you. How far do you suppose it is?”
“Four or five days, I would think. Perhaps a little more. If he makes good time, he should reach the mountains in another two or three days. Once there, he said he knew the country. The Barrier Mountains are not very high. It should lake him no longer than two days to cross them, and Gulg lies in the valley at their foot.”
“Then he will always make certain to leave a guard on watch when he makes camp,” said Eyron, “for he has no more reason to trust you than you have to trust him. He will doubtless bind his captives carefully and thoroughly, taking care there is no way they can work their bonds loose, and he will keep a bright fire burning because he knows it would reflect within your eyes should you approach. He will take no chances and make certain Ryana is always close at hand so that he may threaten her should you make any attempt at rescue.”
And if I make no such attempt and allow him to reach Gulg? What then?” asked Sorak. “What would you do in his place?”
Why then, the simplest matter would be to proceed directly to my family estate after first issuing orders to the guards at the gate to be on the watch for you. Once I had reached safety with my captives, I would then do exactly as I had promised. I would release Ryana and give her the reward I promised you, but first I would make certain a full complement of guardsmen were stationed at the city gate, not in full view, of course, and perhaps I would arrange to have some more concealed outside. The moment Ryana came out of the city gates and you came forth to meet her, they would strike. You would both be dead, and my problem would be neatly solved, with no inconvenience to myself.”
“You have a devious turn of mind, Eyron.”
“Well, it is your mind, too,” Eyron replied.
“True,” said Sorak. “Sometimes I wonder how there is room for all of us.”
“You could always leave,” said Eyron. “I would not object to being the primary.”
“Somehow, I suspect the others would have a word or two to say about that,” said Sorak wryly. “Nevertheless, I am grateful for your presence, oppressive though it may sometimes be.”
“Whatever would you do without me?”
“I don’t know. Cultivate a brighter outlook upon life?” said Sorak.
“And go through it trusting people blindly, I suppose.”
“I never trusted Torian. But I trust him now to do exactly as you suppose he will. The question is, will he expect me to anticipate his plans?”
“If I were Torian, I would weigh matters very carefully and plan for every possible eventuality,” said Eyron.
“And Torian is a clever man,” said Sorak. “If we have anticipated what he shall do, then chances are that he will have anticipated that, as well. So then, what are we to do about him?”
“Something very final, I should think,” Eyron replied.
“I was hoping for an answer that was somewhat more specific,” Sorak said.
“You will have to excuse me,” Eyron replied, “you so rarely ask for my opinion about anything, much less my recommendations, that I am unaccustomed to all this sudden attention. The answer is obvious. You must overcome Torian before he reaches Gulg.”
“I could have thought of that myself,” said Sorak. “The question is, how do I accomplish that without risking the safety of Ryana or the princess?”
“Torian will not harm the princess save as a last resort,” said Eyron. “He was quite prepared to kill her in the grotto, for he had nothing left to lose. He had to convince you of the earnestness of his intent, and he knew the only way he could do that was to be prepared to carry out his threat. He gambled that you would be unwilling to gain victory at the cost of her life.”
“And he was right,” said Sorak.
“Obviously,” Eyron replied, “or else we would not now be in this position. Yet Torian knows that all he gained is time… and another hostage. And he would strike at Ryana before he would harm the princess.”
“If he did that, then nothing could save him,” Sorak said.
“Perhaps he knows that,” Eyron said. “So he would not kill her, then. However, there are many things that he could do short of killing her. And Torian strikes me as an imaginative man. Therefore, we must plan to strike at him in such a manner that neither he nor his two mercenaries would have the opportunity to act.”
“So then speed is of the essence,” Sorak said. “But that, too, is obvious. He will expect me to attack, and he will know that swiftness would be my only chance.”
“Precisely,” Eyron said. “He will expect you to attack. So the attack must come from someone… or something… else.”
* * *
“Any sign of him?” asked Torian.
Rovik turned and shook his head. “No. Gorak and I have been keeping careful watch, but there has been no sign that he is following us.”
“Oh, he is out there; you may be sure of that,” said Torian. “And doubtless closer than you think.”
“In this open country, if he was close, we surely would have seen—”
“You would have seen nothing,” Torian said, his voice a whip crack of authority. “The Nomad is not a man. He is an elfl
ing, with all the attributes of both his cursed races! He could find cover in a place that would not conceal a child, and he can move more softly than a shadow. And when he comes at you, if you so much as pause to blink with surprise, he will be on you with dazzling speed. What is more, he is a master of the Way. Do not underestimate him merely because he appears human. Observe…”
He indicated the obsidian blade he had taken from the man slain by Ryana at the grotto. It had a hide thong fastened around its hilt, with a loop through which his hand could fit. “He shall not disarm me quite so easily again,” said Torian, “though this blade would be of little use against that cursed sword of his.”
“So what is the point, then?” Gorak asked.
“The point, you brainless fool, is not to use it against him, but against the priestess,” Torian said scornfully. “He values her. Doubtless, they are lovers.”
“But I had heard that villichi priestesses do not take—” Gorak began, but Torian cut him off impatiently.
“She is a woman, is she not?” he said. “And he is a comely-looking bastard, for all his coarseness and roughshod appearance. Indeed, many women are attracted to such things.”
“But… he is not even of her race!” said Rovik.
“So? You have never heard of a human female being bedded by an elf? Where do you think half-elves come from, you idiot? Fruit is often all the sweeter for its being forbidden. Did you mark the way she looked at him? No, of course not. That is because you are a simpleton. Make no mistake: he will attack us before we reach the city. That is why we must press on with all possible speed and clear the barrens before sundown.”
“Not that I would dream of questioning your judgment, my lord,” said Gorak, “but why?”
“Do you relish the thought of being out here at night without a fire?” Torian said. “There is nothing out here to burn, and the moons will not be full tonight. The elfling can see in the dark. Can you?”
“Oh,” said Gorak lamely.