Dr. Walt had been whispering to Rindu, having him quietly move through the files on the computer to find other information. The old scholar looked up. “I don’t see any other information yet, Sam. I think we were lucky to find the scrap of information we did. It does not appear that anyone ever went looking for Bruqil. There were wars going on at the time these computers were being used, after all. I will keep looking, of course, but at this point it doesn’t seem that there is anything more than a general location. That one dot covers perhaps hundreds of miles of wilderness. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Sam said. “We have enough information to start traveling. You can keep looking while we make our way toward the area, and maybe you’ll find more before we get there.”
The others agreed, and they all headed up to a dining hall to eat a long-overdue meal. All that was left was to depart.
During his meal, Sam asked Ix about traveling with them again to try to make it to the last artifact. She agreed without hesitation. “I think I have come up with something to help us travel faster, too. I’ll explain it to you when we’re ready to leave.”
“Sounds great,” Sam said. “Anything that can give us more speed is welcome.”
Sam finished eating and got up to head to his room. Dr. Walt called to him, “Sam, I wonder if I could borrow a little of your time.”
“Sure, Dr. Walt, what do you need?”
“I have a meeting in a few minutes with the city leaders who remain at the fortress.” He looked uncomfortable. “I have to explain to them that an army is being built and will be heading toward us any day. I thought maybe you could provide a little moral support. If they see you confident about the future, maybe they won’t be so nervous.”
Sam looked at Dr. Walt and noticed how tense the old scholar seemed. “I’m sure it’s tough dealing with all these little details. You’re doing a great job, Dr. Walt. Sure, I’ll help in any way I can.”
“Thank you, Sam. I’m not the one who should be leading this development of the new government. I’m just a scholar, a researcher. I’m no politician or leader.”
“Believe me,” Sam said, “I know how you feel. People keep trying to treat me like a leader, like ‘the Hero of Gythe.’ It gets tiring sometimes. I suppose we all just have to do what we have to do, though.”
Dr. Walt patted Sam’s shoulder. “Yes, I believe that’s the way of it.” The older man swallowed, straightened, and started walking down the hall. “Let’s just get this over with.”
With so many different rooms in the fortress, it was no problem to set up the “New Government Meeting Hall.” It was a large room, probably meant as some type of audience chamber. It would easily fit ten times the number of delegates they had.
Of the twenty-three current members of the development team—including Sam—only nine attended. It was difficult enough for community leaders to meet regularly without neglecting their duties back home, but the winter made it even more time-consuming to travel back and forth. When they started trying to recruit members from farther away, the complexity would multiply.
Once the structure was complete, the logistic difficulties would lessen. Representatives from each community would be chosen, and the leaders would be free to actually lead their constituents in their own village, town, or city. They had to finish developing the structure, though. That was the rub.
Dr. Walt walked into the room and began gathering the others for their discussion. Several sets of eyes locked onto Sam, and several people whispered to the closest person. He couldn’t catch most of what was said, but “Hero of Gythe” seemed to pop up with alarming regularity. He sighed.
Sam looked around at those gathered. Raire and Akila Gonsh were there, of course. The co-leaders of Patchel’s Folly had rarely left the fortress since the Council formed. They were committed to the new government as strongly as Dr. Walt was.
Georg Santas, the leader of the city of Wethaven, had wedged his obese form into one of the sturdy chairs at the front. He nodded to Sam enthusiastically, making his chins jiggle as his cheeks stretched into a wide smile.
Next to him, sitting perfectly erect, Fulusin Telanyahu from nearby Seamouth glanced up from her notes. She had proven to be a staunch supporter of the project although she was also the one who, by her hard questions and demand for explanations, caused the most friction. She didn’t do it maliciously. She just wanted the Council to do things right.
Stumin Kile, from faraway Somas, with his silly hair style—long locks combed over and hanging down the left side of his face, the right side shorn close—had placed himself near the back of the room. Shiran Slayth, the Miray of Krysyq, chose a seat as close to the front of the room as possible. She tossed her red hair and smiled at Sam, waving with enthusiasm. Sam smiled and waved back.
There were also a man and woman Sam did not recognize. The woman wore an elegant dress, almost as if she was going to a ball. The man was older, his wizened face turned toward Dr. Walt, oblivious to the whisperings about Sam.
Another man was there who made Sam do a double-take. He was big, in what looked like farmer’s clothes, with a mop of dark brown hair resting on his head like it had dropped there from the sky. His eyes met Sam’s and then he averted them. As he flicked them up again, Sam smiled at him and waved. The man—Malcolm, if Sam remembered correctly—looked surprised but then formed a small smile and waved back.
He was the leader of a small town called Raihar. The last time Sam had seen him, he and a group of villagers were trying to take Sam captive because Ix had told them Sam’s party had come from the Gray Man. Sam was glad to see Malcolm representing his town.
“Good evening,” Dr. Walt started, his voice loud and firm. “I would like to share with you some news. It is important for each of us in our local capacities, but more important for the new government as a whole.”
The others settled into their seats and gave Dr. Walt their full attention. A few still cast glances at Sam, but mostly they sat patiently, waiting for the news.
“I have spoken little about the things that have been happening the last several months because we have been occupied with trying to determine the proper method of governing our section of Gythe. The situation has become more complex now, and there are things you should know.
“We learned nearly three months ago that someone was searching for some ancient artifacts, items that would increase her power so as to allow her to become a tyrant like the Gray Man and the Arzbedim before him. In fact, Ayim Rasaad was selected for inclusion into the ranks of the rogue rohw users many years ago. She alone escaped when the Gray Man destroyed all the Arzbedim, only because he was ignorant that she had been accepted into their number.”
Dr. Walt looked at each of the leaders, then at Sam. He took a deep breath and went on.
“There are three artifacts, and despite our best efforts,” he motioned to Sam and all eyes swiveled to him, “she obtained two of them. Along the way, she destroyed at least two communities and nearly destroyed another city when her army passed through. She is no longer a threat, but—”
Fulusin Telanyahu, the Seamouth representative, raised her slender hand. She sat with her tall frame arranged with perfect posture, waiting for Dr. Walt to acknowledge her. He did so.
“Dr. Walt,” she said in a smooth, firm voice. “Are you telling us that we very nearly had another tyrant with power equal to the Gray Man ready to crush us, only one item away from doing so, and you didn’t say anything? I, for one, take offense at that.”
“I understand, Fulusin. You must understand, however, that we were working night and day trying to find information we could use to combat Rasaad and her forces. We weren’t hiding it from you, only waiting until we had sufficient knowledge to present it to you. In the end, Sam, Nalia, Rindu, and a few others defeated Ayim Rasaad. She is dead now.”
There was a collective sigh in the room, but Dr. Walt was not finished.
“Unfortunately, the story did not end there. After Rasaad’s force
s were defeated, the two artifacts she had obtained disappeared. Someone took them. We believe we know who, and he is perhaps more dangerous than Rasaad ever was. In fact, the man, Chetra Dal, seems to have been her master.”
The leaders started murmuring to each other again.
“So then, you are saying we are still within one item of being at the mercy of a powerful magic user.” This was from Georg Santas, from Wethaven. His chair creaked ominously as he motioned with one large arm. “That is not comforting, Dr. Walt.”
“Yes, yes,” Dr. Walt said impatiently. “Sam and the others are working on that problem right now as well. But our conversation has gone astray. Chetra Dal is the possibility of danger, a potential threat. We have time yet to defeat him. There is something else of which I must inform you. An army has been gathered, its size at least five thousand soldiers at this time. It is coming for us.”
Akila Gonsh, one of the co-leaders of Patchel’s Folly, opened her stern mouth and said, “What exactly do you mean, ‘coming for us,’ Dr. Walt? And to whom, exactly, does this army belong?”
“I mean that they are on the march at this very moment. They are coming toward us, here. They are moving toward Whitehall. They intend to crush the new government before it has a chance to take root. We expect it to arrive within a few months. We assume it belongs to Chetra Dal, but we are not completely sure at this time. We thought it was Ayim Rasaad’s.”
The room erupted with noise, the leaders talking, arguing, shouting with each other. Dr. Walt sat down and waited for them to calm themselves. It took a few minutes, but the noise tapered off and they looked up toward the scholar.
“Now, I want you to know that we are doing what we can to prepare ourselves. Danaba Kemp is increasing the number of our own soldiers and training them. We are stockpiling food and water. We are surveying the defenses the fortress has. Remember that this is a fortress. They cannot enter it easily.
“It is your choice as to whether you will remain in the fortress or go back to your communities. We believe the army will come from the south and east, so most of you will probably not be in its path as it comes here. I will keep you informed of its progress, as well as our own. And of course, Sam and the others will continue to try to track down the last artifact and Chetra Dal to ruin his plans for domination. That is all the information I have right now. Are there any questions?”
There were, of course.
By the time Sam left the room with Dr. Walt, he felt like he had been put through a meat grinder. Backward. He thought he would rather be in a battle than to go through that again.
“Thank you for being there, Sam,” Dr. Walt told him as they slipped out of the meeting room before anyone noticed they had gone.“As you saw, there was a lot of tension in the room. I appreciate your presence and how it deflected some of it.”
“I’m glad I could help. Hopefully we’ll defeat Dal before the army has a chance to make it here, and we can somehow disperse it. We’ll do our best.”
“I know you will, Sam. Thank you.”
Yes, Sam thought, we’ll do our best.”But will our best be good enough?
Chapter 5
The party gathered at their normal traveling point, just inside the eastern edge of the fortress walls. Sam, Rindu, Nalia, Emerius, and Skitter were there milling about when Sam saw Ix arrive. They would not be taking the mounts because the extra bodies would only fatigue Ix more.
“I have thought of a way we can increase the distance we go each day,” the assassin said to Sam as she walked up to the others. “My idea is for me to skip over the distance, making my jumps by myself. Once I have completed several of them, I will return to the group and teleport you, Sam, to the furthest point. You can learn the area, and then we can come back and you can teleport the entire group. If we do that, rather than me jumping with the whole party, I’ll be able to travel much farther without getting too tired.”
Sam thought it was a great idea, but as he opened his mouth to speak, Nalia said, “No. You will not be taking Sam to some unknown location to ambush him.”
Sam looked at her with astonishment. He had thought Nalia was over her mistrust of Ix after all they’d been through in the last month.
Ix seemed to take it in stride. “I figured you would argue about it. I can take Sam and Rindu, or even Sam and you, so that you will feel more comfortable. If I take more, it will only tire me out faster. It’s your choice. I’m just trying to help.”
Nalia looked at Sam and then at her father. Her gaze settled back on Ix. “You will take Sam, me, and my father. Know that I will be on guard. Even if you transport us into a circle of archers, I will kill you before an arrow can reach me. If we die, so will you. If you think to teleport away again to save yourself, know that I will be holding onto you so I will travel with you. Do not try to betray us.”
Ix’s smile held no warmth. “You know, Nalia, you really need to work on that suspicious streak you have. Not everyone is out to betray and kill you.”
Sam cleared his throat. “So, I suppose we have a plan. Unfortunately, the areas you’ll have to go through have some of the highest mountains around, and the ones with the most snow. In my world, they are Mount Rainier and Mount Baker. To go due east, we’ll be running into some very high elevations compared to here. How long do you think it will take to complete those first handful of jumps, Ix?”
“It will take little time. Remain here. I should be back within the hour. I have to be careful because of the mountains. Once we cross those, it will go more quickly. I’ll see you in a little while.” She disappeared as the last word still hung in the air.
Sam looked at Nalia. “You know, she has been a great help in what we are doing. Can you give her the benefit of the doubt?”
Piercing blue-green eyes met his steel gray orbs. “No. She may convince me yet, but she has not at this point. I would rather be too suspicious than get caught unaware.”
“Suspicion breeds suspicion, with the only winner being the grave,” Rindu whispered to no one in particular. Everyone else remained silent.
Nalia was lounging in one of the chairs that had been brought out for them to use. She started as Ix appeared right where she had disappeared a little over an hour before. The Sapsyr’s shrapezi were already halfway to the woman before Nalia stopped them. Ix shook her cloak out and stomped her feet. Snow fell from her clothing as her wind burned face scrunched up.
“Ooh,” Ix said, shivering, “it’s cold up there, and snowing, in case you didn’t notice.” She looked to Nalia’s movements with her swords and raised an eyebrow. “Did I surprise you? Sorry.”
“Did you see anything of Dal or his forces? How far did you get? Did you run into any trouble?” Sam asked questions faster than the woman could answer them.
“No, about fifty miles, and no.” Ix smiled. She obviously thought she was being witty. “The weather is bad where I stopped, though. It’s snowing hard and visibility is not good. I thought it best to come back so you can learn that location and give us a starting point for the next series of jumps.”
“Yes,” Sam agreed. “That sounds good to me. Let’s go back there, then.” He looked her up and down, then said, “Unless you want to get some warmer clothes. It’ll take me several minutes to learn the area.”
The woman eyed Sam for a moment and then she nodded, a small smile creeping across her face. “Yes, actually, I think I will. Thank you. I’ll only be a moment.” She disappeared again.
Nalia looked to Sam. How could he trust this woman? She was an assassin, after all. Her employment required her to kill people. For money. Nalia wasn’t a stranger to killing, but she only did so when it was necessary, not for personal gain. That it was necessary so often made her sad, but she had obligations and duty to consider.
It wasn’t just the killing, though. The woman had chosen to work for the Gray Man. Lying, stealing, murdering for money, the assassin’s whole life was based upon dishonor and the exploitation or harming of others. Why did Sam trust
her so easily, as if she was an old friend? It was one of Sam’s greatest strengths and greatest weaknesses that he trusted people. It would get him in trouble someday. But she would be there to protect him, and always would be. From himself as much as from others.
She looked at him, his eyes shining in the morning light reflecting off the snow and the white walls of the fortress. Her cheeks tightened as the smile dominated her face. Yes, she would protect him. She would not live her life without him, could not. Once all this business with saving the world was finished, they would go somewhere and spend time alone, with no one trying to kill them and no responsibilities. A vacation. It was something they did in Telani, and she thought she would like to try the concept here in Gythe.
Ix appeared in Nalia’s line of sight as she gazed at Sam. The insufferable woman caught her mid-smile, looked surprised, and then looked behind her toward where Nalia’s eyes had been aimed. Her mouth quirked into what could have been a smile or a smirk, but then she fell expressionless so quickly Nalia was almost unsure she had seen it at all.
“All set,” Ix said to Sam, turning in a circle to show heavier winter clothes she had put over her dark assassin’s garb, a pair of rabbit skin gloves, and a cloak that was considerably thicker than what she had been wearing only a short time ago. “Shall we?”
Sam, Rindu, and Nalia gathered around the assassin. Emerius Dinn was sitting on a bench, glaring at the rest of them.
“Oh, come on then,” Ix said to him, holding out her hand. “I don’t want you sulking all day because we left you out. One more person shouldn’t make too much of a difference in how tired I get.” The hunter’s face showed shock at first, eyes lighting up, but then his mouth set in a thin straight line as he walked toward the others.
“Okay,” he said, “if you insist.” Ix winked at him. Just what was going on with those two, anyway? Nalia would have to watch them. Maybe they were plotting together.
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