Rikus grasped her wrist. “Don’t waste the wine!” he said. “Slaves get too little of it. We just have to think of something better to toast.”
Caro lifted his glass. “To your freedom,” he said.
All three of them downed their wine in a single gulp. The dwarf refilled their glasses, then casually tossed the empty carafe into the pool. It landed on a lily pad and came to a rest in the center of the enormous leaf.
“Have you given thought to where you’ll go from here?” Caro asked.
Rikus nodded. “After we find Sadira, we’ll join a slave tribe,” the mul said.
“I’m afraid you may have to wait for quite some time before you speak to Sadira,” Caro replied. “She’s with Lord Agis in the city, and I don’t know when they’ll return. Perhaps you should leave the message with me. I’ll see that she gets it.”
Rikus shook his head. “We’ll have to wait—”
“We can’t wait long,” Neeva interrupted. “The cilops are probably already on our trail. If we’re going to have any chance of escaping, we’ve got to keep moving—and get to the mountains before they catch us.”
“It’s not fair to burden Caro with this particular message,” Rikus said.
Neeva met Rikus’s eyes evenly. “Tithian’s spy is watching Sadira. If Caro’s here and Sadira’s in Tyr, then Caro can’t be the spy, can he?”
“Spy?” Caro gasped, his jaw dropping. A moment later, he closed his mouth again. “How did you find out there’s a spy in my master’s household?”
“That’s a long story not worth the telling,” Rikus said, far from anxious to dredge up memories of Yarig’s death by discussing the gaj. “If you’ll tell us where your master and Sadira are, we might reach her before we go to the mountains.”
“I’m afraid it would be impossible to find them. The last time I saw my master and Sadira, they were going to a rendezvous. They never returned,” Caro explained, a sudden frown accentuating the deep crow’s feet around his eyes. “I’m afraid something may have happened to them.”
“We’re too late!” Rikus yelled, hurling his goblet across the pool. It smashed against the outer wall, causing a light tinkle of shattering glass to echo all around the colonnade.
Neeva reacted more calmly. “How long ago was this rendezvous?” she asked. “Where was it to take place?”
“Agis and Sadira disappeared three days ago,” Caro reported. “Neither would say where they were going, but both were acting rather nefarious about the whole thing. I suspect their destination was somewhere in the Elven Market.”
Rikus stood. “That’s where we’re going.”
The old dwarf slipped off the bench and dropped to the ground. “I have something in the house that might help you.”
“What?” Neeva asked.
Caro smiled. “It’s a surprise,” he said. “I’m sure you’ll find it quite remarkable.”
After the dwarf left, Rikus and Neeva retrieved the weapons they had stolen during the escape from Tithian’s estate. They secured the daggers to the belts of their breechcloths, then Rikus kneeled at the edge of the pool to catch Anezka’s attention.
Just as the mul glimpsed her form gliding toward him, several sets of thudding steps sounded outside the colonnade. Rikus looked up and saw the stout form of a half-giant blocking the arched entrance. His brown hair hung over his ears in long greasy strings, and he had a protruding brow set above a pair of drooping eyes. The half-giant wore a purple tunic emblazoned with Kalak’s golden star, and in one hand he carried a polished bone club taller than a dwarf. The guard’s thighs were as big around as the pillars of the colonnade, and he had to stoop to keep from scraping his head on the ceiling.
“In the name of King Kalak, stand where you are!” the half-giant bellowed. His voice rumbled over the still waters of the pond and echoed off the opposite wall encircling the colonnade. As the guard lumbered toward the bridge, another half-giant, a little stockier and shorter than the first, stepped into the entrance.
Anezka briefly stuck her head up from between a pair of the lilypads. When she saw Rikus’s shocked expression and the half-giant guards, she slipped back beneath the water and disappeared beneath the floating leaves.
“Neeva!” called Rikus, returning to his feet. “Hand me the—”
The mul had spoken too late. Even as he reached for the spear, it whistled past his head. The shaft took the first half-giant square in the rib cage and sank to half its length. The guard dropped to his knees, then pitched forward onto his face.
The second guard began to climb over the still body of the first. A third half-giant moved through the entrance and, upon seeing the blockage ahead, circled around the other way.
Rikus searched the area beneath the bower for something to use as a weapon. Both he and Neeva had obsidian daggers, but the knives did not seem like effective weapons against half-giants.
When the mul’s eye fell on the bench, an idea occurred to him. He gave his dagger to Neeva, then nodded toward the closest half-giant. Rikus did not need to say a word for his fighting partner to know he wanted her to cover the attack he was about to make.
The second half-giant finished climbing over his dead comrade, then stepped onto the bridge. Rikus wrapped his massive arms around the bench and picked it up, groaning with the effort. He turned toward the bridge. The half-giant stepped a third of the way across in one stride. “Stop!” he cried.
Rikus charged, holding the bench like a battering ram. The half-giant grinned and lifted his club.
From behind the mul, Neeva’s dagger flashed overhead in a black streak. It hit the guard in the brow, striking hilt-first. It bounced harmlessly away and landed on a lily pad with a hollow thump. Nevertheless, the attack served its function—stunning the half-giant long enough to keep him from swinging his club before Rikus drove the end of the bench into the guard’s chest.
A great crack sounded from the half-giant’s sternum. A heavy groan escaped his lips. He whirled his arms, and his club went crashing into the bower. With a tremendous bellow, the guard fell backward, slamming into a pillar. The marble column broke into three pieces, and the half-giant landed among the sections, cursing and vowing vengeance.
As the guard started to sit up, the roof collapsed, dumping half a ton of rubble on his head. His death cries were lost amid the thunderous clatter.
Rikus dropped the bench and turned around. He saw that the third half-giant had decided against the bridge and was approaching the patio through the pond. Neeva already faced him. Armed only with a dagger, she was moving forward to meet him at the edge of the island.
To one side of the bridge, Anezka emerged from the water long enough to grab the dagger that had fallen on the lily pad. Guessing that she intended to attack from under the water, Rikus retrieved the second half-giant’s club and stepped to his fighting partner’s side. When Neeva lifted her arm to throw her remaining dagger, Rikus laid a restraining hand on her wrist.
“Not yet.”
“Maybe I’ll get lucky.”
The mul did not reply, but held onto her throwing arm, waiting for Anezka’s attack. When the half-giant lifted his club to swing at Neeva, Rikus finally released her.
“Thanks a lot!” the blond gladiator exclaimed, preparing to dodge instead of throwing her dagger.
The half-giant paused in mid-stroke. He stared at his feet, then screamed in pain. The guard plunged his hand into the water behind his ankle.
Guessing that Anezka had severed the tendons at the soldier’s ankle, Rikus swung his club at the half-giant’s head. He made contact, but the shock jarred him to the soles of his feet and his hands went numb from vibration. It felt as though he had struck a marble column instead of a skull.
The only effect on the half-giant was to draw his attention away from his feet.
“Now, Neeva!” Rikus yelled. “Throw your dagger!” The guard’s massive fist shot out of the water and hit Rikus in the face. The mul tumbled a dozen yards across the patio and s
mashed into one of the posts supporting the bower.
As Rikus struggled to focus his eyes, Neeva threw her dagger. It struck blade first, tipping a long slice in the guard’s cheek. The half-giant roared and lifted his weapon to strike. Neeva threw herself in Rikus’s direction.
As the club smashed into the patio, the guard bellowed again, then reached into the water and grabbed at his other heel. He took a panicked step toward the colonnade. He stumbled and fell into the pond, spraying water and scattering lily pads everywhere. Rikus could see the half-giant flailing and clutching at the pillars to keep himself from drowning.
A moment later, clenching her bloody dagger in her teeth, Anezka slipped out of the pond and went to retrieve her clothes.
The bellowing and roaring of the battle inside the colonnade had reached even the faro fields surrounding the Asticles mansion. Agis and Sadira surmised that someone was fighting in the courtyard, but they could determine little else.
They crouched at the edge of a dusty field, staring over the coppery field of rockstem that separated the farm from the mansion grounds. The meadow was one of the most ancient features of the Asticles mansion, for rockstem was a leafless, hard-skinned plant that did not grow so much as accumulate in one place over the centuries, forming fantastic, twisted shapes.
From across this tangled heath, the white marble colonnade looked like nothing more than a wing of the mansion. The two half-giants and the templar standing outside it were silhouettes the size of insects.
The two watchers were protected from view by both the rockstem and the faro trees, but neither plant shielded them from the oppressive afternoon sun. Both Agis and Sadira were dizzy from the heat, and their throats were so swollen with thirst that they sometimes found themselves choking on their own tongues.
They had been prowling about in the faro fields since mid-morning, when they had returned to Agis’s estate from UnderTyr. After Ktandeo had died, a crimson knight had taken the old sorcerer’s body inside the temple. Sadira had thrown the bronze disk by which the templars had been tracking them into the shrine, then she and Agis had crept away and hidden at the edge of the dark courtyard.
Shortly afterward, the templar commander had ordered his men to storm the shrine. The crimson knights had met them at the entrances, and Agis and Sadira had taken advantage of the resulting battle to flee. They had retraced their path to the Drunken Giant. After finding the wineshop wrecked and abandoned, they had returned to Agis’s house to gather supplies.
Fortunately, Sadira had insisted that they take the morning to reconnoiter, reasoning that Tithian might well have ordered Agis’s house watched. After several hours of waiting, it had become apparent that the half-elf’s caution was warranted. Four figures, two tall and two short, had entered the colonnade. Agis had been able to identify the shuffling gait of one of the short figures as that of his manservant Caro. A short time later, Caro had left the colonnade and fetched five half-giants and a templar from main house. Three of the half-giants had gone into the colonnade, and that was when the fighting had begun.
“The time has come to reclaim my home,” Agis said, staring at Caro, the templar, and the two half-giants still waiting outside the colonnade. “I think we’re looking at all that remains of the group Tithian sent to watch my house.”
Sadira nodded. “If we stay out here much longer, my tongue will be too thick to cast spells.”
Agis studied the scene for a few more moments, then asked, “Can you disable the two half-giants?”
The half-elf started to shake her head, then looked at the cane in her hand and changed her mind. “I can probably kill everybody, but we’d better get a little closer.”
Agis scowled at Ktandeo’s cane. “Are you sure that’s wise?” he asked. “We don’t know much—”
“I know enough,” the half-elf insisted. “Besides, it’s dangerous to use normal magic so close to your rockstem. Such slow-growing plants might not recover from the drain.”
Agis pursed his lips, but nodded. “Just leave Caro alone.”
“You can’t believe he didn’t betray us!” the half-elf objected.
“No, I can’t even hope that any more,” Agis said. “I still don’t want him killed.”
Sadira shrugged, then looked toward the colonnade. “If you want to save Caro, you’ll have to kill the templar standing next to him. The more distance there is between my targets and Caro, the better.”
Agis nodded, then unsheathed his dagger and held it in the palm of his hand. The noble closed his eyes and focused his concentration on his energy nexus, opening a pathway from his body through his arm and into the palm that held the dagger. Agis let out a short breath, at the same time closing his fingers around the dagger. He pictured them melding with the hilt and ceasing to exist as separate digits. The weapon became a part of his body that he could control and direct as easily as he could his arms or his legs.
When Agis opened his eyes again, to him it appeared the dagger had taken the place of his hand at the end of his wrist. He felt the leather hilt wrapped around the cold steel of its tang in the same way he felt his skin covering his bones. “Ready?” he asked.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Sadira replied. “Let’s go.”
“We’ll rely on their curiosity to get us closer,” he said, leading the way out of the faro.
They moved through the waist-high rockstem formations casually, Sadira walking several paces to the noble’s left and swinging her cane as if it were any normal walking stick. As he approached, Agis could see that the templar, Caro, and the half-giants all faced the colonnade, their backs turned toward him and Sadira. So tightly was their attention focused on the small courtyard that they never noticed him and the sorceress.
Agis and Sadira had closed to within fifty yards when the templar motioned the half-giants into the colonnade.
“Attack now!” Agis said, anticipating it would be difficult enough to flush out the templars and half-giants already inside the colonnade without allowing more to join them.
The noble whipped his arm toward the templar. The dagger separated from his wrist, leaving a bare stump behind. As it streaked toward its target, Agis kept his arm pointed at the man’s head. To him, the cold steel still felt as though it were attached to his arm, and he was guiding the weapon’s flight just as though he were using his hand to plunge it into his victim’s back.
The dagger slipped into the base of the templar’s skull. In his wrist, Agis felt the scrape of steel against bone. A warm liquid enveloped the blade as it entered the man’s brain.
Agis broke the connection. He had little interest in experiencing a man’s death from the viewpoint of a weapon.
The templar fell forward, dying before he hit the ground and probably not aware of it. Caro, who had been talking to the man, stared at the body in confusion.
Sadira’s attack was more spectacular. She pointed the cane at the two half-giants, then spoke two words Ktandeo had once uttered when he used it: “Nok” and “Ghostfire.”
The obsidian orb flared a brilliant orange, then a thunderous boom rocked the field. A stream of fiery light shot from the cane and enveloped the two half-giants. Agis did not see what happened next, for in the same instant he felt a cold hand reach inside him and draw away a portion of his life energy. It was a feeling similar to the one he had experienced when Ktandeo used the cane, but many times stronger.
A tremendous shudder ran through the senator’s body. His knees buckled, then he crashed through a brittle rockstem formation and pitched face-first onto the ground. He rolled onto his side and looked toward Sadira, but otherwise he felt too nauseous to move.
The sorceress had sunk to her knees and was holding Ktandeo’s cane in both hands, staring at it with a look of indignation and confused astonishment. A faint scarlet light glimmered from the depths of the black pommel, squirming and crawling over the surface as if it were alive. The scarlet gleam slowly faded, and Sadira’s body swayed uncertainly. When the red ligh
t disappeared entirely, she toppled forward into a coppery fan of rockstem.
Agis forced himself to his knees and looked toward the mansion. Caro was staring at the ground where the half-giants had been standing only a moment before. The noble took his horrified expression as a sign that they would not have to worry about those two half-giants, at least.
Finding the strength to crawl to the sorceress’s side, Agis found her curled into a ball and gasping for breath. Her skin was as pale as bone, her face was haggard, and the luster was gone from her amber hair. Her eyes were focused on the old man’s cane, which lay in front of her.
The noble put a hand under her elbow. “Sadira? Can you hear me?”
The half-elf’s gaze slowly shifted to Agis’s face. She cried out in shock.
“What is it? Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine,” she gasped.
Agis helped her to her knees. She continued to stare at him. “Is something wrong?” he asked.
Sadira shook her head and seemed to return to her senses. “No. Everything’s fine,” she said, brushing the hair around his temples. “You don’t see any gray streaks in my hair, do you?”
“No, of course not. Why?” Agis had no sooner asked the question than the answer occurred to him. He looked at the black-pommeled cane in shock. “That thing turned my hair gray?” he gasped.
“Just a few streaks, around the temples and the top of your head,” Sadira replied defensively. “It makes you look distinguished.”
Agis heard heavy footsteps approaching. He looked up to see a large mul dressed only in a breechcloth. Like all muls, this one had small, pointed ears, was completely bald, and below the neck appeared to be nothing but bulging muscles. He was unusually handsome for a man-dwarf, for his rugged features were generally well-proportioned and appealing. He had a sturdy brow with dark, expressive eyes, a proud straight nose, and a powerful, firmly set jaw.
Agis was about to ask Sadira if she knew the mul when the half-elf struggled to her feet. “Rikus!” she said, opening her arms to hug him as he rushed to her.
The Verdant Passage Page 20