James could hear the shuffle of feet outside.
Nathan shouted, “Keep away, you murderous blood-suckers!”
From outside, voices called, “Come with us. Join us.”
Jazhara shivered. “I know little of these creatures, save for legends. But already I can see the legends are only partially correct.”
James looked at Nathan and said, “Got anything to drink?”
“Water,” said the farmer, pointing to a large crock near the table.
As James fetched a cup and went to the crock, he said to Jazhara, “What do you mean ‘only partially correct?’”
Jazhara said, “The legends of the vampires tell us of great and powerful magic-users, able to alter their shapes and commune with animals, such as rats and wolves. The pitiful creatures we face here, while far from harmless, could have all been put to rest tonight, had we a trained squad of soldiers with us.”
James quietly reflected on this as he remembered a time in Krondor when, as a boy, he and Prince Arutha had faced the undying minions of the false moredhel prophet, Murmandamus. “My experience tells me that things that hard to kill are far more dangerous than they seem.”
Nathan added, “Besides, lady, you miss the obvious. These aren’t great and powerful magic-users. These were farmers and laborers.”
James said, “So that would mean the great and powerful magic-using vampire is out there somewhere. And he - it -is behind all this.”
Solon said, “Aye. The Temple teaches what it knows about the forces of darkness. The blood-drinkers are an old and powerful line of evil, said to have descended from a single, cursed magician who lived ages ago in some distant and unknown land. No one knows if the tale is true, but it has been told in the chronicles that from time to time such a cursed one appears, and woe betide those who chance upon him.”
“Why?” asked Kendaric.
All eyes turned to him.
Solon asked, “Why does ‘woe betide’ those who chance across him?”
“No, I mean why do such creatures exist?”
Solon replied, “No one knows. What the Temple teaches is that the forces of darkness often benefit when chaos reigns, so much of what they do is merely to cause problems for order and good.”
Kendaric nodded. “All right, I can accept that. But why here?”
James said, “It should be obvious. Someone doesn’t want us to reach the Tear.”
‘The Tear?“ Farmer Nathan asked, bewildered.
James waved away the question with a gesture. “You don’t really wish to know, trust me. Just suffice it to say that magic around here is not what it should be.”
“That is the truth, ” agreed Jazhara.
“It must be that witch,” said Nathan. “She’s the only user of magic in these parts.”
Jazhara said, “Has she been a problem before?”
“No,” admitted the farmer. “But. . . well, who else could it be?”
“That is what we must find out,” said James. Listening to the voices from outside, he added, “How long will they keep this up?”
Nathan said, “Until first light. They perish from its touch, it is said.”
James said, “Said by whom?”
Nathan blinked. “Sir?”
“Never mind,” said James, as he lay down on the floor. “I’m dubious as to the origin of many beliefs. It’s a character flaw. Wake me when they go away.”
Jazhara nodded and said, “Then what do we do?”
“Find this magic-using vampire and put him out of his misery.”
“Aye,” said Solon. “If we can do that, the rest will fade away, it is said.”
James resisted the urge to ask again “by whom” and merely said, “There can’t be many places around here for such a one to hide.”
“Oh, I can tell you where one such place is,” said Nathan.
James sat upright. “Where?”
“In the graveyard, south of the village. There’s a crypt there that has been broken into. There’s something in there, I’m certain.”
“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“I did,” said Nathan. “But Toddy and the others wanted to hear no part of it. Father Rowland said something about the forces of the gods would protect the properly buried, or something like that, and ignored me.”
“That’s odd,” said Solon. “A priest of Sung the Pure would be among those most interested in investigating such a desecration. Their order is in the forefront of the battle against just these kinds of dark forces.”
“Maybe others are,” said Nathan. “But he just holds his prayer meetings and rails against the witch. Maybe he’s right.”
“Again, ‘the witch!’” said Jazhara with open contempt. “What has this woman done?”
“Well, Farmer Alton claims she’s poisoned his cows, and Farmer Merrick’s little girl lies abed with some cursed sickness the witch sent her way.”
“But why?” asked Solon. “If this woman has been kind to you before, why’d she turn her hand on you now?”
Nathan shrugged. “You tell me. You’re a priest - ”
“Monk,” corrected Solon.
“ - monk, so you must know why these things happen.”
Shaking his head, Solon said, “Ah, if only it were so. No, the ways of evil are a mystery.”
James said, “Hold the theological debate down, will you? I’m going to get some sleep.”
Listening to the low voices from outside and the shuffling of footsteps around the house, Kendaric said, “How can you sleep with that going on?”
James opened one eye and said, “Practice.” He closed it and within minutes was asleep.
Just before sunrise the voices ceased. James woke up to find Solon sound asleep on the floor, while a fatigued Jazhara sat with her arms around her knees, her staff at hand, watching the door. Nathan sat silently nearby. Kendaric had succumbed to sleep and lay on the wooden floor, snoring.
James rolled over, his joints protesting a night spent on such an unyielding surface, and got to his feet. He gently nudged Kendaric with his boot. The wrecker sat up with an alarmed expression on his face, shouting, “What!”
Solon was instantly awake, then realizing it was only Kendaric making the noise, sat back again. “Sunrise?”
James nodded.
Nathan stood as well and asked, “What will you do this day?”
Jazhara said, “Find the source of this evil.”
“Then look to the witch up on Widow’s Point,” said Nathan. “I still think she must be behind all this. Someone has to destroy her!”
Solon said, “Have faith, friend. We will crush her evil just as we destroyed the evil that has plagued you.”
“If she is, indeed, the source of this evil,” said Jazhara pointedly.
Nathan said, “Are you mad? You did nothing last night. Don’t you think I’ve fought those things before? Except for one or two you burned with magic fire or beheaded, the rest will return. In the darkness they can’t be destroyed!”
“Well, we’ll see what we can do,” said a tired James. “But first we need to get something to eat.”
“Toddy will open the door for you once the sun is up,” said Nathan. “Tell him to send my food over, would you, please?”
“What will you do?” asked Kendaric.
“Barricade my door again.” Then his voice took on a frantic quality. “But you know they’ll get me in the end, turn me into one of them. It’s just a matter of time.”
“Easy,” said Solon. “We’ll have none of that, laddie. With Ishap’s divine guidance, we’ll see an end to the troubles that plague this poor village.”
James and Solon removed the boards that were nailed across the door and went outside. Before they were off the porch, they could hear Nathan again nailing them into place. Kendaric looked at the sky.
“What is it?” asked James. “Rain?”
“No, something . . . odd,” said the wrecker. “For nearly twenty years I’ve worked the sea an
d I’ve never seen a sky like that.”
“Like what?” asked Jazhara. “I don’t see anything odd.”
“Look toward the sunrise.”
They did so and after a moment, Solon said, “Ishap’s mercy! What has happened to the sun?”
In the distance the sun rose, but despite the air being dear and there being no clouds in sight, the light seemed muted, and although the sun glowed, its brilliance was dimmed.
“Magic,” said Jazhara. She paused, as if listening to something. “There is something in the air which drinks the light. We didn’t notice it yesterday, because we arrived near sundown, but some dark agency is lessening the sun’s radiance here.”
“What could do that?” asked James.
Jazhara shrugged. “A relic of great power, or a spell forged by a magician of great arts. It would have to cover a very large area indeed to dull the sun’s brilliance.”
“I thought it a little overcast when we arrived,” said James. “But I didn’t note if there were clouds over the cliffs or not.”
“There is nothing natural in this,” affirmed Kendaric. “But to what purpose has this been done?”
“So that things that walk the night can walk the day?” mused Solon.
James said, “Forget breaking our fast. We must go to confront this witch now.”
Without further comment, James turned toward the peak at Widow’s Point on the other side of Haldon Head and started walking.
As they walked through the village, they saw Toddy hurrying from his inn. “You!” he said with a broad grin as he spied James and his companions. “You survived the night!”
James smiled. “Surviving is something we do well. You seem to be in a hurry.”
The mayor of the village lost his smile. “Farmer Merrick’s daughter is ill, and he’s gathered some of the village folk at his home. I think they mean some mischief.”
James glanced at Jazhara, who returned a slight nod. They fell into step behind the portly innkeeper, who was hurrying along as best as his girth permitted.
When they arrived at Farmer Merrick’s house, they found a half-dozen of the village’s men, and an equal number of women, gathered before the farmer’s door. The farmer and his wife stood in the doorway. A florid-faced, stocky man was saying, “We must do something. This has gone on too long!”
Toddy pushed through the small crowd. “What is this, then?”
The florid-faced man shouted, “We’re going to do something about that witch, Toddy!”
“Now, now,” said the mayor, holding up his hands. “Let’s not do anything rash. This lad here” - he indicated James - “is a representative of the Crown and will take care of things.”
Instantly all speaking stopped and eyes turned to James. James threw a dark look Toddy’s way, then said, “Very well. Now, we’re here on a matter of interest to the Crown and what has been going on around here is of importance to His Highness. So, who can tell me what has occurred?”
Instantly everyone started speaking at once. James held up his hand and said, “Wait a minute. One at a time.” He pointed to the florid-faced man who had been railing when they arrived and said, “You. Speak your piece.”
“My cows come down sick!” the man shouted. Then he realized he didn’t need to be shouting over others, and he lowered his voice. “My cows come down sick, and it’s that witch. She’s sent a curse to make them die slowly.”
A woman in the crowd spoke up. “And we’re losing our daylight, little by little. Sunrise has been coming later every morning; sundown earlier every evening. And what sunlight we do have is, I don’t know how to explain it, but look around, it’s different. Pretty soon we won’t have any daylight at all. And you know what that means!” she sobbed.
Muttering broke out among the small crowd. James held up his hand for silence.
From the doorway, the farmer named Merrick spoke. “It’s not only our cows that’re sick. Our little girl, she’s gravely ill.”
James looked at Merrick and said, “What ails the girl?”
“She’s cursed,” shouted a woman from the edge of the group gathered in the yard.
Jazhara said, “May I see her?”
“Who are you?” asked the frantic-looking woman by Merrick’s side, her face pinched and pale.
“I am Prince Arutha’s personal advisor on magic,” Jazhara answered.
Brother Solon added, “And I am a monk of Ishap’s Temple. If there’s evil magic afoot, we’ll root it out.”
The woman nodded and motioned them into the small house.
Inside they found a single room, with a small hearth on the wall opposite the door. A pair of beds stood there, one obviously big enough for the farmer and his wife and the other a child’s bed. A small girl, her features wan, occupied this bed. Jazhara knelt by the side of the bed and put her hand upon the girl’s forehead. “She has no fever,” said the magician. “What can you tell me?”
The farmer said, “Nothing, save she’s become too weak to walk or stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time. When she is awake, she seems unable to recognize us.”
The farmer’s wife added, “Sometimes she’ll shake.”
Brother Solon knelt beside Jazhara and examined the girl. “What is this?” he asked, fingering a small amulet. ‘This looks to be the sign of Sung.“
“Father Rowland gave it to us,” said the woman. Then she blurted, “I went to the old woman on Widow’s Point, and she gave me a charm to heal my child. She told me a great darkness was trying to take the children. She was trying to protect them.”
“Larissa!” scolded the man. “I told you not to speak of this.”
“Go on,” said James to the woman.
Defiantly, she looked at her husband. “She was trying to protect our daughter.”
“Like she ‘protected’ Remy’s son?”
“Yes, exactly like that!” She turned to James. “She was too late to save Remy’s boy, but when I got home and put the charm under the bed, my girl stopped shaking. She wasn’t getting better, but she wasn’t getting any worse! Then Father Rowland returned from a journey and came here. He prayed all last night, and my daughter began shaking again. When the sun rose, I swear he seemed irritated she was still alive!” The woman’s look was one of desperation.
“Larissa, that’s blasphemy!” said Merrick. “The good father was trying to save her soul. It’s the witch’s fault. He said as much before he left.”
“But what if it’s not?” asked the woman.
“May I see the charm the ‘witch’ gave you?” Jazhara asked.
The woman drew it out from under the bed and handed it to Jazhara. She looked at the small wooden box, within which she found several herbs and some crystals. She closed her eyes and held the box for a long minute, then said, “There is nothing malicious in this. This is a simple ward to help the child’s natural energy heal herself.” Then she looked at the child. “But there is something . . .”
She reached out and took the small amulet from the girl’s throat, then suddenly withdrew her hand as if it had been burned. “Brother Solon. You know more of clerical arts than I; will you please examine that ward?”
Solon gently touched the amulet. He closed his eyes and made a short incantation, and then his eyes snapped open. “This is no ward of Sung!” The amulet began to change and he withdrew his fingers from it. The metal seemed to ripple and warp and darken, until suddenly what had appeared to be a simple metal icon of Sung became something resembling a tiny maw, a mouth of black lips and ebony teeth. It opened wide, as if to bite, then the girl coughed. A plume of green gas erupted from her nostrils and mouth, to be sucked into the tiny black orifice. Solon grabbed the trinket and ripped it from the unconscious child’s neck. The girl gasped slightly, and her tiny body convulsed once, then settled down into the bed. With a sigh she took a deep breath, then seemed to breathe more easily.
Jazhara examined the child and declared, “Already she seems a little stronger.”
Solon held out the trinket, which was now revealed to be a claw holding a black pearl. “I would venture that this is the cause of the child’s illness.”
Merrick looked confounded. “But it was given to her by Father Rowland!”
James looked at Jazhara and the others and said, “Before we go rushing off to burn out an old woman, I think we need to have a serious ‘talk’ with this Father Rowland.”
He didn’t wait for an answer, but walked out of the tiny farmhouse.
THIRTEEN
Misdirection
James halted.
Looking skyward for a moment, he then turned to Jazhara and the others hurrying to keep up with him and said, “Is it me, or is it getting darker?”
Kendaric glanced to the west. “There is no weather front approaching, and I see no clouds.”
Solon looked at the sky and after a few seconds said, “No, it isn’t you. It is getting darker.”
Jazhara looked to the east, and pointed. “Look at the sun!”
They all turned to face the sunrise, and as they watched with a fascination that turned quickly to dread, the sun dimmed. The brilliant white had now darkened to a dull yellow.
Jazhara said, “I can feel the heat upon my face, but the light is fading!”
Solon said, “Yes, you have the right of it. Something is stealing the light from the very air!”
“What does this mean?” Kendaric asked anxiously.
“I don’t know,” Jazhara said. “I know of no magic that should be able to do this.”
Kendaric repeated doggedly, “But what does it mean?”
James moved to stand before the now-terrified wrecker. “Pull yourself together! What it means should be obvious.”
“So what does it mean?” demanded Kendaric.
“It means that soon our friends from last night will be able to walk abroad at any time.”
People were hurrying past and James overheard someone say, “Father Rowland will know what to do!”
The florid-faced man who had been inciting the others in front of Merrick’s house approached and said, “If you’re a servant of the Prince as you claim, you’ll go burn that witch out right now!”
Krondor Tear of the Gods Page 23