Hederick the Theocrat v-4

by Ellen Dodge Severson

  Her tears broke off abruptly. The young woman felt in her pocket and drew out a small gem-muddy yellow and nearly valueless-which she handed over to Phytos. "It's all we have. I will give you this gem in return for safe passage. Please, kind centaur, help us!"

  Phytos assured her that the centaurs had no intention of abandoning the bereaved family.

  But Mynx was frowning. Something about the woman's story didn't ring true. One man-able to fight off a troop of Hederick's trained minions long enough for his wife to escape with a fatally wounded child and a doddering old woman? She gazed at the trio. Mist swirled around the centaurs, but wherever Mynx focused, there was no mist. She found herself stroking the Diamond Dragon again.

  Her thoughts were remarkably lucid, she noted. As clear as the diamonds that decorated the artifact's back.

  The centaurs were undoubtedly moved by the family's plight, but centaurs were markedly susceptible in some areas. Being so strikingly handsome themselves, they tended to trust that which was physically perfect. And the mournful young mother was pretty indeed.

  The slaves, so recently freed from bondage themselves, also were full of sympathy for a trio who appeared to have suffered at Hederick's hands.

  Mynx smelled magic.

  "Young woman," Mynx said, stepping around a centaur with black skin and green eyes. "Where did you live in Solace?"

  The young mother looked up. Something flashed in her eyes as she surveyed Mynx and the Diamond Dragon; then it was gone. Her voice remained sweet and low, though throbbing with sorrow. "We found a room in the center of town, kind lady. Near the town square."

  "That would have placed you next to the Inn of the Last Home."

  The woman hesitated, then nodded.

  "You are refugees? You would have enjoyed Otik's hospitality at the Inn, then. Otik has a soft spot for the helpless."

  The fog deepened. Mynx stroked the Diamond Dragon again, and the cloud was dispelled. The woman glanced at the crone, who nodded almost imperceptibly. "Yes," the younger woman said. "He does. Otik is a kind man."

  "Do you remember his specialty?" Myry‹ went on. She spoke loudly, her words carrying to the centaurs and human slaves. "Otik is noted for his spiced pepper sausage, fried to a crisp and eaten as hot as you can stand it. I remember it well. Did he share some with your family, woman? He usually does with refugees. As I said, he is a generous man."

  "I…" The woman's eyes brimmed over with tears, and she glanced down at her child. The fog thickened worse than before, except where Mynx stood.

  "What is this?" burst out a centaur just behind Mynx. The centaur's head appeared hazily through the deepening mist. "The woman interrogates these poor lost souls when what anyone can see they really need is rest and food and some attention to that child's arm. Thou should be ashamed of thyself, Mynx!"

  Mynx turned slightly, making sure to keep the crone, young woman, and child well in sight. "These three are not what they claim to be," she shouted to the centaurs. "They seek to delay us! Look!" She pointed to the north, where the straggling group of riderless slaves were just coming into view. "Already we have lost precious time, if those with no centaurs to carry them have been able to catch up!"

  Mynx peered into the frowning faces of the centaurs. "I don't know who has sent these three to waylay us, but it is someone whose interests ally with Hederick's. Can't you see they are false?"

  Phytos cantered to her side. "Thou would have us abandon these poor folk here, Mynx? They are destitute, as anyone with eyes can see."

  "Abandon them? I would have you kill them!"

  The centaurs, and the slaves on their backs, burst out in fresh protests. The trio in the path did not move, but the two women glared daggers at Mynx.

  "Let me ask them just one question," Mynx demanded.

  Phytos nodded. "One question, then."

  Mynx faced the trio again. "What spice is in Otik's specialty, the one the fried sausage is known for? If you have truly eaten at the Inn of the Last Home, you will know. It is an easy question. Hurry, now."

  I…" The women exchanged glances. The crone frowned at the younger woman, who then turned back to Mynx and snapped, "Pepper! The spice is hot pepper. Now can we get some help from you, or will you make us talk all night while my son dies?"

  "Well?" Phytos asked quietly.

  "Wrong!" Mynx sang out. "It's not pepper. In fact, it's not even sausage. Otik is known throughout Solace for his spiced potatoes. Anyone who had ever been near the city would know that. Moreover, the Inn is not next to the town square, as this woman said. You've been ensorceled, centaurs!"

  For an instant, the centaurs milled about uncertainly. Some drew their bows, while others fingered their war clubs, and still others continued to counsel patience. The slaves, even Ceci Vakon, likewise seemed confused.

  Then the fog melted away.

  At that instant, the three fugitives vanished. In their places stood three haggard old women. Two, Mynx's height, had greenish skin, while the third, at least half again as tall as the others, had a deep blue complexion. All bore moles and warts, stringy hair, and withered faces. Their teeth were black. Their hands ended, not in fingernails, but in long claws that looked to be as strong as iron.

  "Hags!" shouted one of the centaurs. "An annis hag and greenhags! Fellow centaurs, Mynx is right. We've been magicked! Attack!"

  The centaur, a slender male carrying a young man, dashed forward. The largest hag calmly reached out, clasped the man-horse around the torso with both hands, and crushed him. She flung the body away with a laugh, chased down the centaur's rider, and did the same to him.

  "Next?" she taunted, her foul breath polluting the air.

  Three centaurs let fly with arrows at the same instant. The hags leaped aside.

  "By the gods," Phytos cried. "The speed! The strength!"

  Another half-dozen centaurs, wielding clubs, leaped toward the hags. The wizened crones deftly outran them, closing and grappling when the opportunity arose. Soon two slaves and three more centaurs lay crushed on the ground, victims of the annis hag. Mynx, caught without a mount in the melee, sought to fight her way to the rear of the surging crowd. Finally Phytos grabbed her by the arm and hauled her to one side.

  The other centaurs continued to do battle, but the hags were too quick. They always managed to sidestep the centaurs' clubs.

  The hags finally drew back. Another centaur let an arrow fly, but the greenhags merely disappeared. The annis hag deflected the arrow with one hand.

  "They don't need to fight us," Phytos said. "They merely seek to delay us. Thou wast right, Mynx. Hederick must have sent them."

  "But Hederick hates magic!" Kifflewit cried.

  "Unless he has some necessary use for it," Mynx murmured. She probed her memory for information about hags. How to stop them? "Where are the two greenhags?" she asked suddenly.

  A cry from the centaurs answered her question. One of the centaurs to Mynx's left suddenly grasped his neck, where invisible hands had crushed his windpipe. He went down, gagging and kicking. The woman who'd been astride him leaped away.

  "Phytos!" Mynx shouted. "The gem!"

  Phytos looked confused.

  "The gem they gave you. It's a hag's eye. It's magical. Destroy it!"

  Phytos looked in his hand, where the mud-colored jewel still nestled. Then he flung it to the ground and stamped upon it with his forehooves.

  Three screams sounded through the forest. The annis hag clapped her hands over her eyes. "Sisters, I'm blind!"

  she cried. The two greenhags reappeared. They, too, were pawing at their eye sockets.

  It took but three centaurs armed with clubs and arrows to slay the hags.

  Mynx found the female centaur who had been carrying her. "Hurry!" the thief shouted. "We may be too late already!" Her hand reflexively went to her neck, to where she'd placed the Diamond Dragon for safe-keeping.

  Her fingers found… nothing. Mynx immediately cried out and countermanded her own order.

&n
bsp; The centaurs pulled up, protesting, as Mynx groped under her armor for the Diamond Dragon. Perhaps it and its thong had slipped under the armor's gorget, she thought. Phytos caught the panic-stricken look in her eye and understood immediately.

  "Thou hast lost it?" he cried. "The magical artifact?"

  "I don't know," Mynx returned. "I was pushed and shoved in the battle. Perhaps it fell off."

  The centaurs and humans lost valuable time searching for the Diamond Dragon.

  Finally, Kifflewit Burrthistle found it, stomped into the mud. "Here it is!" he chirped. He bolted over to Mynx and handed it to her with a flourish. Hands shaking, she retted it around her neck.

  "Hurry!" she shouted. "We've no time to waste."

  The slaves remounted. The centaurs leaped into a canter, and then a gallop. Trees flew by. To the east, a yellow glow announced the arrival of day. Mynx glanced down; the Diamond Dragon sat serenely atop the gorget of her mismatched armor.

  Mynx frowned. One of the diamonds was missing. She found herself hoping it wouldn't make any difference in the artifact's power. At any rate, there was no time to backtrack and search some more.

  "Hurry!" she repeated. "Oh, please hurry!"

  The longtime thief found herself breathing the first prayer of her life.

  Meanwhile, on a nearby centaur, Kifflewit Burrthistle patted one of his pouches. Yes, the diamond was still in there. It had sure been loose when he picked up the artifact. What a lucky thing he had been there to pry the jewel out of its setting and keep it safe.

  Who knew what trouble there might be if it were lost, he thought.

  Outside Tarscenian's cell, footsteps scuffled on the flagstones. A temple guard.

  Tarscenian stood and faced the door of his prison cell. The footsteps stopped. Hands rattled the tiny window in the door and slid it aside.

  Hederick's face peered in at Tarscenian. The older man inclined his head and waited for the High Theocrat to speak first.

  "I have come to offer you clemency," Hederick said.

  "Ah. But at what price, Hederick?"

  "Tell me where the Diamond Dragon is," the High Theocrat ordered. "If you do this, I will let you go."

  As near as Tarscenian could guess, the magical artifact was probably waltzing through Krynn in the pouch of a carefree kender, but the old man would die before he'd tell Hederick that. "I do not know, High Theocrat."

  "Of course you do," Hederick snapped.

  "If I knew where it was, why would I have ventured into the temple? Into your quarters?" Tarscenian asked reasonably. He gazed at Hederick. There was no sign of the frightened boy he once had been.

  "Remember the giant lynx, Hederick?" Tarscenian asked quietly. "Remember how we fought it off together? You fought fair, once."

  "Don't change the subject," the High Theocrat spat out. "If you came into the temple, it must be because the Diamond Dragon is hidden here somewhere. That's it, isn't it, Tarscenian? Tell me where it is, and I'll arrange to have my minions transport you safely away from Erolydon."

  Tarscenian shrugged. "As a dead body, no doubt."

  Hederick drove his fist into the thick door. "I will kill you slowly, false priest! I will torture you, I swear. It will take you days to die. No one defies me. Everyone in Solace will witness your humiliation."

  Tarscenian stood silently.

  "If you think your friends will come and rescue you, you are wrong," Hederick snapped. "Even now, three hags devour them in the forest outside Solace."

  "Ah, Hederick," Tarscenian chided. "Stooping to using magic. What would your gods think?"

  It was the High Theocrat's turn to say nothing.

  "I am ready to die, Hederick," Tarscenian told him. "I wish to join Ancilla."

  "Then she is dead."

  Tarscenian declined to admit he wasn't sure. There was still hope of some miracle-and of Ancilla escaping from the tree trunk in the courtyard. "Yes, Ancilla is dead."

  "Where is the Diamond Dragon, Tarscenian?"

  "I don't know. Nor do I care."

  Hederick's tone was silky. "I will have you bound to the vallenwood trunk and torn, limb from limb, by the mater-bill."

  Tarscenian only shrugged at Hederick's threats.

  "By the New Gods, Tarscenian, you will beg for mercy before I am through!"

  "There are no New Gods, Hederick. I told you that long ago, back in Garlund. There are only the Old Gods, and they will return someday-perhaps sooner than you know. And when they do, Hederick, you will suffer for what you have done."

  Hederick snorted. "One last chance. You will not tell me where the Diamond Dragon is?"

  Tarscenian shook his head.

  "By the New Gods, then, I will tear apart every stone in Erolydon to find it! I built this temple, and I can destroy it if need be!"

  "As you will, Hederick."

  The High Theocrat slammed the small window shut.

  A short time later, the temple guards came for Tarscenian.

  Chapter 25

  "There's Crystalmir Lake!" Ceci Vakon cried. Her mount and Mynx's led the thundering centaurs as they streamed through a clearing just east of the lake and north of Erolydon.

  Then a shadow swooped over the women, and they threw themselves to the ground. "Night hunter bats!" Ceci shouted. "They're the ones who carried us off to the slavers."

  "Everyone stay low!" the silver-haired Phytos bellowed. "We are challenged!"

  Within moments, the entire force had taken shelter under low-hanging boughs as a half-dozen of the seven-foot bats swooped near the ground. The night-hunters could see well in the dark, but they needed room to maneuver, and the tree branches would hinder their attack.

  "Arrows nocked! Bows ready!" Phytos shouted.

  Mynx crouched with Ceci beneath a pine branch. The thief felt several small figures nestle against her, and she realized the kender and Ceci's sons had joined them.

  "Don't be afraid, Kifflewit," Mynx said soothingly. "The archers will take care of them. The bats certainly make big enough targets."

  Kifflewit Burrthistle sniffed with contempt. "Who's scared? Not me," he said. "I just wanted… to get closer to the action!"

  "Fire!" Phytos cried.

  The centaurs let loose with their arrows just as the bats dived into their midst. One night hunter managed to get its claws around a centaur, but the man-horse was too heavy for the bat, which nonetheless managed to rake the centaur with its razor-sharp tail before the bat fell dead, pierced by an arrow from Phytos's bow.

  Another night hunter died when it dived heedlessly toward the branch under which Mynx and Ceci Vakon hid. With a shout, Mynx leaped out, stabbed at it, and slit the huge beast from throat to tail. Ceci darted off, herding her sons under a thicker outcropping of pine boughs. Kifflewit Burrthistle let out a war whoop and took off in another direction.

  Phytos led a charge of centaurs as the last four giant bats massed to arc down toward the humans and horse-creatures. Clubs beat two of the flying beasts out of the air, and arrows stopped the last pair. Soon the four were flopping on the ground in their death throes. The centaurs roved among them, using clubs to hasten their deaths.

  The battle had taken only a short time, but the delay was bothersome anyway. Mynx ran to Phytos. "Look!" she cried, and pointed to the east. "The sun is coming up."

  "Hurry!" the centaur shouted to his troops. He cantered, then ran, through the early morning light, while the others rushed to follow. A female centaur gave Mynx a hand, pulling the thief onto her back. The freed slaves quickly found their mounts and chased after Phytos.

  Through the vallenwoods, they could just see the northern wall of Erolydon gleaming white in the morning sun.

  Chapter 26

  Phalanxes of temple guards and priests diverted the crowds of Solace residents and refugees who swarmed toward Erolydon for the dawn service. Instead of the Great Chamber, the spectators were surprised to find themselves herded into the eastern courtyard, into the viewing area between the inner and outer wal
ls.

  There was no sign of Hederick. Tarscenian stood bound to the trunk of the vallenwood. Alone in the center of the courtyard, he seemed curiously at peace.

  "What now?" the people muttered. "Did you hear what happened yesterday with the black-robed mage?" "Indeed." "My cousin was there. She said the wizard blasted Hederick's heart right out of his chest!" "And yet his gods saved him." "The Seeker gods work mysteriously." "I missed yesterday, so I dared not miss today. Who is today's sinner?" "The old man who was with the lady mage who challenged Hederick two days ago."

  Then the voices hushed as novitiates moved among the crowd, cautioning people that the ceremony was about to begin.

  Two rows of blue-garbed guards entered the courtyard through the main doors to the temple. Behind them came Hederick, dressed in ceremonial blue velvet, his pudgy chin up, his face resolute. He could not resist a sneer of triumph as he surveyed his longtime enemy helpless upon the vallenwood stump.

  He hadn't had Tarscenian gagged. The ex-priest wasn't a formidable enough mage, in Hederick's estimation, to bother with that. Besides, the High Theocrat had long dreamed of savoring the dying screams of the false Seeker priest. Now he was moments away from that experience. Hederick allowed a smile of anticipation to cross his face. Then he resumed his usual emotionless demeanor.

  Hederick pivoted on one sandaled heel and stepped smartly to the reviewing stand, erected safely behind a marble wall. He mounted the steps, strode to a velvet-draped lectern, and, with head bowed, delivered the invocation of the Seeker gods that began all Seeker services. Then he looked up and addressed the people.

  "This morning heralds a special day," Hederick intoned. "It is a holy time, a time of reblessing, of renewing Erolydon's sacred charge. Of making clean that which has been sullied."

  "What?" some people in the crowd whispered. "What happened?" "Some centaurs snuck into the temple." "Ah, no!" " 'Tis true; Hederick's own high priest let them in." "Was he daft?" " 'Tis said he hoped to honor Hederick by sacrificing them within Erolydon itself." "Fool."