Wrath of a Mad God

by Raymond E. Feist

“In passing. I’ve lived a long time without contact with your race, Duke Kaspar, but that doesn’t mean over the years I’ve re-1 0 0

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  mained ignorant of your race and its . . . peculiarities. Gambling is something most elves would have trouble enjoying—our risk-taking is always about survival. These mountains can be difficult, even for those of us who’ve spent centuries here. Now, why do you ask?”

  “There’s a human expression, ‘it’s time to put our cards on the table, which means to show what we’ve been hiding.”

  The old elf smiled. “I like that phrase.”

  “There are powerful forces poised to strike at this world.”

  “That implies those forces are not of this world.”

  “Yes,” said Kaspar, appreciating that this old elf was obviously more intelligent than one might assume from his bucolic surroundings. It was a common error on the part of many nobles to make assumptions based on a person’s rank or upbringing, and he had come to quickly appreciate that he had been just as guilty of that vanity before his exile and return to join the Conclave. “There are worlds besides our own that are populated.”

  “We know this,” said Castdanur. “Word of the Tsurani war reached us—we occasionally trade with those beyond the Peaks of the Quor.”

  Kaspar made a mental note to explore that remark further; if there were humans with them when these people did trade, it might be possible to get word out to those waiting for information on Kaspar’s expedition and head off any unwanted trouble.

  Kaspar doubted at this point any of his men or himself would be traveling directly to the waiting ships with the elves’ approval.

  The problem was that should the resupply boat put in to the cove and find no one there, especially if there were signs of a battle, their instructions were not to investigate, but to turn tail and return as fast as possible to Roldem and seek out Conclave agents there who would in turn relay word to Sorcerer’s Isle that the mission was a failure. That would eventually result in another mission being sent there to discover what had happened, depending on the other issues faced by the Conclave, which might take years, time Kaspar knew he didn’t have.

  “There are men with whom I am allied, men who have dedicated their lives to protecting this world. They are not well 1 0 1

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  known, and I doubt word of their existence has reached you, but they are called the Conclave of Shadows.”

  “A colorful name, Kaspar of Olasko. Tell me of this Conclave.”

  “Have you heard of a man named Pug?”

  “The great human sorcerer,” said Castdanur. “Yes, word of his feats has reached us. Last we heard he humbled a prince who became King of the Isles.”

  Kaspar recalled hearing that story from his own father, when he was a boy. “In the years since then he has fashioned an organization, not of the Kingdom of the Isles, not of Kesh, but for the whole of Midkemia, for he saw during the Serpentwar that we are all of one people and we all share this world.”

  “One people,” echoed the elven leader. “Does that include us?”

  “Yes,” said Kaspar. “We are allied with the Elf Queen and her court in Elvandar.”

  “Ah,” said the old man. “Then we have a problem, it seems.

  For we of the Sun, we who abide here in Baranor, do not serve the Elf Queen, nor her dragon-rider. We are a free people.”

  Kaspar knew there was something deeper underlying this than merely not being servants. “Neither did those who lived over the sea, in the land we humans call Novindus. And while some have come to live in the Queen’s court, others have not and remain across the seas. It is all as one to Lady Aglaranna. She welcomes those who seek her out, but does not demand it.”

  “Yet she makes war upon our kin to the north, is that not true?”

  Kaspar regretted he knew so little of elven lore, and only a little about those elves humans called the Brotherhood of the Dark Path. “So I have heard, yet I have also heard it is those we call the Brotherhood who wage war on the Queen and her people. I cannot defend that which I am ignorant of, but I will say that should those the Conclave opposes prevail, whatever differences may exist between your people and the Queen will become academic, for all life on this world will be extinguished.”

  The old elf was silenced. “Extinguished?” he said at last.

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  “What we have been told is that this race, the Dasati, will not come to conquer and enslave, but rather to obliterate all life on this world as it now exists, replacing it with life from their home world, from the mightiest to the smallest.

  From dragons to insects to the tiniest fish in the sea, all will be pushed aside to give them a world they can fashion to their liking.”

  Again Castdanur was quiet. After several long minutes, he said, “I need to consider your words and discuss them with the others. You will go back to your men now and I trust you will rest well, despite the circumstances.”

  “I’m an old soldier and hunter,” said Kaspar, rising from the low table and bowing slightly. “I know how to sleep when the opportunity offers itself, no matter what the circumstance. I hope you’ll consider what I’ve said seriously, and we can speak on this more.”

  “Rest assured we will,” said the old elf as he rose and returned Kaspar’s bow. “Much depends on it, including the disposition of you and your men. You do believe in fate, do you not, Kaspar of Olasko?”

  Kaspar said, “I once did, when I was young and vain and believed I was fated to rule. Now I believe in opportunity, and that a man receives from life what he puts into it. It has been a lesson hard learned but it was pain deserved and I am a better man for having endured it.”

  “We are a patient race,” said Castdanur. “We are vexed by those whom you encountered on your way here, and I suspect we shall discover some relationship between those who faced you on the beaches and those who surround us every sundown, but we can speak more about this in a few days.”

  “A few days?”

  “I must lead the hunt,” said the old elf. “We are, as you have noticed, facing difficult times, and we do not have stores enough to accommodate you and your men. We shall not put you to the blade merely because we are hungry, nor will we let you starve.

  So, a hunt must be organized. For many reasons, we cannot hunt these hills or the peaks above, but must venture for a day or more 1 0 3

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  to the north or south to find game. So it will be three or four days before I return, and then we shall resume our discussion. I would appreciate your word that you will cause no trouble for those left to guard you.”

  “It is a soldier’s duty to escape,” said Kaspar.

  The old elf sighed. “That would be foolish. Not only would we quickly hunt you down, but you would likely die before we found you. As I have said, the area around this fortification is dangerous.”

  Kaspar nodded. “I personally will remain here as a token of good faith. I can order my men to do the same, but cannot be certain all will obey.” He hesitated for a minute, unsure as to whether he needed to restate his case. “I have said what I had needed to say, but I trust you understand that because of what I have spoken of, it is imperative that some accommodation be reached soon; whatever brought that ship of evil men to your shores is part of a larger scheme, one involving forces that are in league with the invaders I spoke of.”

  “The Dasati. Yes, I know,” said Castdanur. “We shall have an opportunity to discuss everything. We are, as I said, a patient race, and we have a different appreciation of the passing of time.

  We shall reach no hasty conclusions, though we will pay heed to your sense of urgency.”

  “I thank you for listening,” said Kaspar.

  A guard escorted Kaspar back to the long hall that was being used to confine his men. Jommy, Servan, and the others looked up expectantly. Kaspar saw that they had been fed, though from the empty
bowls and expressions on the men’s faces, he knew that he had eaten far better than they. He ignored the silent questions in their eyes, but motioned for Jim Dasher to come with him to a far corner. He also motioned for those nearby to draw away to give them some privacy.

  “Can you get out?” asked Kaspar.

  “No problem,” said the thief. “They hardly have the resources to confine a heavy-footed lout like Brix.”

  Kaspar nodded. Brix was one of his stoutest warriors, a good man in a brawl, but he was the constant butt of the other 1 0 4

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  men’s humor because of a clumsiness that often had him tripping over his own feet. “Can you get to the ships?”

  “Ah,” said Jim softly. “Now that’s a different question. I have in my mind a route, but there’s no doubt the elves know these woods a thousand times better than I. A lot of it depends on how much of a head start I get, and who they send after me.

  I’ve heard tales from others about elves’ tracking skills so I doubt it would do me much good to lay false trails or that sort of thing—besides, I’m a city man mostly and my wood lore is scant.

  No, speed’s the only edge I might possess.”

  “When would you go?”

  “No later than two hours from now,” said the thief from Krondor. “It’ll still be two hours from midnight and if they’re expecting a breakout, they’ll look for it at sunrise, I think.”

  “Guards tend to be half asleep just before sunrise,” observed Kaspar.

  Jim nodded agreement. “And there are those things out there, on the wolves. Fear of them is expected to keep us all huddled in here.” He glanced around. “If I go in two hours, I can steal ten miles on them by sunrise. That puts me around the point and off the coast.”

  “You going to try to swim to the ships?” asked Kaspar with a rueful smile. “The sharks are impressive in these waters.”

  “Do I look stupid?” asked Dasher. “I’ll build a signal fire.

  The Captain knows there might be one.”

  “Who gave him that order?” asked Kaspar.

  With a wide grin, Dasher said, “I did. I didn’t think much of your original plan.”

  Kaspar shook his head. “You’re a common thief, remember?”

  “The Captain is one of the few on this expedition I trust—he was handpicked for this mission by Prince Grandprey.”

  “That boy’s coming into his own, isn’t he?”

  “He’s a cut above, for a youngster,” agreed Jim. Lowering his voice he said, “Look, Kaspar, only two people here know what I really do and who I work for: you and me. We are also the only two men who can take word back to those who matter and help make some sense of it. I’ll grant you an edge in wood lore 1 0 5

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  and hiding in bushes and the like, but I’m far more adept at running away than you are, I suspect. And if it comes to an in-close fight . . . well, you’re a hell of a soldier, but I know more dirty tricks than you do.”

  “I’m not arguing that it’s you who needs to go,” said Kaspar. “I just hope our hosts won’t be too offended by your escape and take it out on us, and if they aren’t and don’t, then perhaps I can reason with them and your coming trials will be for naught.

  But if they don’t . . .” He shrugged.

  “Better to have me get word to our various lords and masters. Yes, I know. What do we know?”

  The two men put their heads close together and began discussing the mission and the implications of the presence of the magic-user and his conjured creature, combined with what they had observed during their march up to this settlement.

  They continued like this for almost an hour, leaving Jommy, Servan, and the other men to speculate on what the leader of this expedition and a common thief from Krondor could be plotting.

  Jim Dasher waited until the men had either dozed off or fallen into low conversation so as not to disturb the wounded who were sleeping. He thought at least three of the lads would be dead by morning or midday at the latest unless they got proper care from a chirurgeon or healing priest. Whatever magic these elves possessed, healing didn’t seem to be part of it, or perhaps they were disinclined to heal their prisoners. Either way, those lads would have a tough time of it.

  Jim had weighed his options and shared a false bravado with Kaspar, who was now crossing over to speak privately with him once more. “You ready?” he asked.

  “A few more minutes,” Dasher answered. “It might help a bit if you wandered over to where Jommy Killaroo is chatting with that old sergeant and . . . I don’t know, made a quiet announcement about something. I only need a minute or so, but if you can draw attention away from the door, I can be through without anyone seeing me go.” He looked around. “I don’t know 1 0 6

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  if you’ve noticed, but the elven guards spend a lot of time watching how we watch each other.”

  Kaspar glanced at the two guards outside the door and saw how their eyes were constantly shifting from this group to that, several times lingering on Kaspar and Jim at the far end of the hall. “Hadn’t, to tell you the truth.”

  “It’s a good idea,” said Dasher. “You don’t know what to expect, but you reckon the prisoners do and you watch them to see who reacts in a funny way.” He glanced at the men who were sleeping or talking quietly. “You’ll have some irritated lads when you wake them to tell them to get some sleep or whatever else you do, but I’ll only need a minute. There’s a window above the beam—don’t look up—and I’ll be up there and out before anyone catches a glimpse. Wouldn’t do to have the lads gawking and saying, ‘Oh, look! There goes Dasher!’”

  “I wish you didn’t have to do this, Jim.” Kaspar crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall, trying hard to look casual.

  “No one else has a chance, and we both know it.”

  “I almost wish I could order you to stay.”

  Jim Dasher grinned, and not for the first time Kaspar was surprised how the simple change of expression made years fall away, made him look almost boyish. “Ah, but you can’t, can you?”

  “No, I can’t,” said Kaspar with a slowly broadening smile of his own. “Fat lot of good being called ‘General’ does me, right?”

  Jim’s grin widened. “With me, anyway.”

  Kaspar’s expression became serious. He put a hand on Jim Dasher’s shoulder. “Stay alive.”

  “That’s my plan.”

  “How many do you think they’ll send after you?” asked Kaspar.

  Jim shook his head slightly. “How many do you think?”

  “One, maybe two. They strike me as a pretty arrogant lot.

  And they don’t have many to spare. Well, you’ve got tonight and five more days to reach the cove and signal if you’re not going back to our camp.”

  “Can’t. It’s the first place they’ll look if they lose track of me.”

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  “An elf losing track?”

  “I’ve a trick or two they’ve not seen. And if they find me, I’ll deal with that. No, I need to get over the crest to the northwest, and then down, somehow, to the beach where the ships are. That means we’re hoisting sail on our way to Roldem in two days, not six.” He fell silent for a moment, then said, “I hope that fellow who tried to gut you on the road is one of those coming after me.”

  “Sinda?” Kaspar nodded. “He’s a real charmer. He’s already burying us. If you do tangle with him, say hello for me.”

  Jim nodded. “Now, go and annoy the men.”

  Kaspar did as requested and Jim glanced around. The elves had been cursory about disarming the men, knowing that one of their magicians could deal with any insurrection easily, and had taken only the obvious weapons: swords, daggers, knives, and bows and arrows. But Jim knew that a few of the men harbored knives in boots or up their sleeves and he was a walking inventory himself of unexpected weapons and tools. He reached down to his left boot a
s if scraping off something attached to the sole.

  Deftly, he opened a small hollow in the heel and pulled out a tiny crystal vial. He hated the thought of breaking such a precious container—the cost for having a hundred of these made in a land far enough from Krondor to not arouse suspicion had caused Lord Erik to almost—but this was just the sort of situation for which he had prepared this treasure.

  He used his left thumbnail to crack the vial as Kaspar awoke those men who were dozing or asleep and let half a dozen drops of liquid wet his lips. He sucked up the tiny bit of very powerful magic and waited.

  The tingling across the surface of his body told him that he was now invisible to any mortal eye. It was good to be working with powerful magicians, Jim considered, not for the first time in his life. He knew that in half an hour he’d be visible again, and he knew the potion didn’t mask his tracks or other signs he might leave behind. In fact, he was counting on it.

  Kaspar looked up and was startled to see that Jim Dasher was gone. He glanced around the room. One of the elves at the door 1 0 8

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  looked toward him as he started speaking to the men and Kaspar quickly averted his eyes, giving the men a cursory account of his discussion with Castdanur. He then cautioned them to maintain discipline while in captivity and left them with a promise that everything would be over soon. As he crossed the floor to his pallet, he lay down and tried to sleep. He wondered if being over soon was necessarily a good outcome.

  Jim Dasher had been born in the city, raised a city boy, and hated the wilderness, but he had spent months in the forests and mountains north of Krondor learning his woodcraft from a pair of very determined, very tough and unforgiving Royal Krondorian Pathfinders. He couldn’t live off the land indefinitely, but he could keep from starving for a few weeks and knew better than to seek shelter in some angry cave bear’s den. He also was a fair tracker—though not as adept as even Kaspar, let alone the elves—and knew how to hide a trail.

  At the moment, though, he was concerned about the Void-darters and their wolf-riding masters. Jim could think in very complex fashion, a trait which had made him a most valuable asset to both the Crown of the Isles and the Conclave. While constantly assessing his situation and planning his next move, he was also reviewing the events of a very long day. He wished he had more information to take back with him, such as who the wolf-riders were. Those creatures weren’t wolves, he knew, but until someone put a proper name to them, wolves would have to do. And the elves? They were a puzzle. He knew as much as any man in the Kingdom of the Isles about elves: his story about the cave and elf wizard was nonsense, but he had been to Elvandar and the trinket he wore around his neck was genuine.