Lord of the Libraries (15 page)
Is that a threat again?
Juhg wondered. Then he decided Craugh was being honest with him.
Juhg wondered. Then he decided Craugh was being honest with him.
“And elves?” Craugh sighed. “Old Ones grace me, but do you imagine what elves would have done if someone suggested a large number of them stayed inside and worked so books could be protected from the elements?” The wizard snorted. “Impossible. We would have had a war on our hands.”
Juhg knew that was true. “But some of the elves at Greydawn Moors have taught themselves to read.” That had come out at the Grand Council and shocked nearly everyone there.
“They read some things,” Craugh admitted. “But do you think they took the time to learn as many written and oral languages as the dwellers learn?”
“I don’t know.”
“No. That was just a threat the elves brought forward that day while they were supporting Wick’s argument. And have you yet given any thought to what the dwarves’ first response would have been had they been placed in charge of the books?”
It only took Juhg a moment to see the problem behind that line of logic. “Their first task would have been to build a better book. One that wasn’t so perishable.”
“Then they would have transferred all the old texts into a uniform
book,”
Craugh agreed. “Copies would have been made with hammer and chisels instead of a quill and ink. Do you know how long it would have taken to make a copy of a book under those circumstances?”
book,”
Craugh agreed. “Copies would have been made with hammer and chisels instead of a quill and ink. Do you know how long it would have taken to make a copy of a book under those circumstances?”
Too long, Juhg realized.
And how would a book have been that wasn’t made of paper? All the beautiful laminated manuscripts would not exist.
Dwarven books were works of art in their own right, but dwarves would never have used paper for their tomes.
And how would a book have been that wasn’t made of paper? All the beautiful laminated manuscripts would not exist.
Dwarven books were works of art in their own right, but dwarves would never have used paper for their tomes.
“No, apprentice,” Craugh said, “choosing dwellers to be Librarians was the right thing to do.”
“It helped that they could be so easily subjugated, though, didn’t it?”
“Not subjugation,” Craugh said. “They exchanged safety and well-being for task.” He gazed out at the Garment District. “These people have done that as well.”
“Tasks of their own choosing,” Juhg countered.
“The dwellers were never held back from being warriors or warders or pirates,” Craugh said. “Several of them back in Greydawn Moors have either gone into business for themselves or work for others. It’s no different than working for the Library. They just perceive it so.”
Juhg studied the wizard, suddenly understanding. “We would have never come this far if each race didn’t contribute, would we?”
“No.”
“And still it didn’t keep us from the darkness. The Vault of All Known Knowledge was destroyed all the same.”
Craugh was silent for a moment. “No, no it didn’t, apprentice. There was too much evil let loose in the world all those years ago.” He smiled a little. “But you are right about this place. Should we survive the undertaking we now follow, this would be an exemplary place for a school. I will do what I can to help you make that happen. Wick has seldom been able to withstand both of us, and never when we were right.”
Juhg considered the offer.
Is he only offering lip service to get me moving again, or is he sincere?
He didn’t know. But he chose to feel generous because they might not even live through the coming ordeal.
Is he only offering lip service to get me moving again, or is he sincere?
He didn’t know. But he chose to feel generous because they might not even live through the coming ordeal.
Taking the lead once more, Juhg struck out again.
Less than an hour later, very near to their goal, a group of men attacked Juhg and Craugh.
Juhg had only a moment’s warning, hissed through Craugh’s teeth. The warning was apparently brought about by the sudden appearance of a winged crimson gecko that dropped down into the alley where Juhg was leading the way.
At Craugh’s warning, Juhg froze immediately. His quick eyes darted around, seeing only the gecko clinging to the side of the wall. The thing was barely the length of his hand. Unless it carried poison, the creature possessed no real threat.
Then hooded men filled both ends of the short, narrow alley. They carried naked blades in their scarred fists. Armor showed in places beneath their traveling cloaks. Other men stood back of them with drawn bows, arrow fletchings touching their jawline. Hard eyes watched them beneath hooded cowls.
“Hold still,” one of the men ordered, “and you may yet live through this.”
Craugh shifted like a cornered wildcat, flattening against one wall so he could peer back and forth. The curving wall offered a little defense from the far end of the alley. He snaked out a hand and caught the back of Juhg’s jacket, pulling him in close.
“Fools,” Craugh snarled contemptuously, “do you know who it is you face?”
“A dead man by the looks of it,” the leader said, grinning a little. “You’ll be quieter after I’ve slit your gullet for you.”
“Faugh!” Craugh growled.
“We were told only to find this dweller,” the man said. He was tall and fair, with a jutting chin and a long nose. “The old man doesn’t matter. Kill him.”
Two of the archers standing behind their leader released their holds. Their arrows jumped across the distance, well over Juhg’s head and straight for Craugh’s skinny chest.
With incredible quickness, Craugh swung his staff around and shattered the arrows in midflight. The broken pieces fell down to the cobblestones at his boots.
The archers looked surprised, but fitted new arrows to bowstring automatically. Five more took aim as well.
“Kill him,” the leader said again.
The archers loosed their shafts again. One of them shattered against the stone wall over Juhg’s head. Craugh managed to break four of the arrows, but two of them got through. Both of the arrows lodged in Craugh’s clothing, though, and didn’t find flesh.
“Again,” the leader called out.
This time archers at both ends took aim.
At that moment, Craugh’s body started glowing green. He moved quickly, stepping into the wall behind him and vanishing.
Juhg waited expectantly. He’d seen Craugh perform this bit of magic before. The last time had been back in the Vault of All Known Knowledge. The wizard had prevented his death then. Instead, Juhg remained alone in the alley.
The archers looked as confused as Juhg felt.
“He’s a powerful wizard,” Juhg called out, hoping to scare the men away.
It probably would have helped if your voice wasn’t quavering,
he chided himself. “And he’s very vengeful. If I were you, I’d run.” He pressed back against the alley wall, hoping that Craugh would tug him on through to safety.
It probably would have helped if your voice wasn’t quavering,
he chided himself. “And he’s very vengeful. If I were you, I’d run.” He pressed back against the alley wall, hoping that Craugh would tug him on through to safety.
“Take him,” the leader called out, and pointed to Juhg.
The other men advanced slowly with their swords and their bows. “Wizard,” one armed man whispered.
“Or he has a spelled charm,” another man said.
Juhg stood his ground, not knowing what to do.
Before the men reached him, Craugh walked out from the wall. His voice echoed strong and loud through the alley, speaking in words that Juhg didn’t recognize. The wizard slammed the butt of his staff against the cobblestones. Green flames suddenly wreathed the top of the staff.
Before the men could charge or flee—from the looks on their faces Juhg knew both impulses had occurred to them—the cobblestones rose up in a tower nearly ten feet tall and two feet thick. They whirled as if caught up in a hurricane, and the alley filled with the angry whir of their passing.
Two of the archers fired their bows again. The arrows never made it through the rocks.
With another word from Craugh and a gesture of the staff, the cobblestones shot toward the men. The rocks broke bone and tore flesh despite the armor they wore. Their clothing turned to tatters. Loud clanking filled the alley, followed instantly by the screams of pain from the survivors.
The glowing green nimbus of light around Craugh deepened as his magic took a firmer hold. “I am
Craugh,”
he roared. “I will fear no man. And I will not be taken by such as you.”
Craugh,”
he roared. “I will fear no man. And I will not be taken by such as you.”
For a moment, Juhg thought the men would go away. Then someone said, “It’s just one wizard,” and both groups rushed toward the middle of the alley.
Without hesitation, Juhg drew his boot knife and stood back to back with the wizard as their enemies approached. Even though he thought he was going to die almost immediately, he couldn’t help wondering how the men had come to be there. Someone had set them upon their trail. Or his at least, because they didn’t seem familiar at all with Craugh.
Juhg stood his ground, slipping into a knife-fighting stance he’d learned while reading books. Boloy Trasker’s
Ribbons of Shining Steel
had provided numerous illustrations that showed the moves. Still, even Boloy Trasker, who had been a human of incredible skill and prowess, couldn’t have stood up to twenty armed men. Even though he hadn’t been able to count all the men, Juhg was sure they didn’t fall short of that number by much. He stood with his left hand and left foot forward, his right hand holding his blade point outward with his hand above his head. If he got lucky, he’d be able to menace the first man’s chin before he went down under their numbers.
Ribbons of Shining Steel
had provided numerous illustrations that showed the moves. Still, even Boloy Trasker, who had been a human of incredible skill and prowess, couldn’t have stood up to twenty armed men. Even though he hadn’t been able to count all the men, Juhg was sure they didn’t fall short of that number by much. He stood with his left hand and left foot forward, his right hand holding his blade point outward with his hand above his head. If he got lucky, he’d be able to menace the first man’s chin before he went down under their numbers.
Then a familiar war cry ripped through the alley.
“Wah-hoooooo!”
At almost the same instant, the twenty men in front of Juhg tumbled like stacked tiles, plunging face forward as they were barreled over from behind. The closest man went down at Juhg’s feet. His sword clanked against the cobblestones.
A dwarf hauled himself up from the pile of scattered men. He was in full armor. Although not as tall as Hallekk, the warrior was—almost impossibly—broader through the shoulder. Scars marked the cheeks of his face. His graying beard hung to his massive chest. He lifted a double-bitted war axe that gleamed in the afternoon sun that crept over the edge of the building and into the alley.
“Hello, Juhg,” the dwarf said with a grin. “I see you went and saved a few for me.”
“Cobner?” Juhg said, recognizing the dwarf from the adventures they’d had along the mainland with the Grandmagister.
Cobner had been one of Brandt’s band of thieves back when the Grandmagister had arrived in slaver’s chains at Hanged Elf’s Point. At that time, Brandt had been lawless, still unable to return to his ancestral lands and claim the title that was his by birth and later his by might and cunning. Brandt had bought the Grandmagister at a slave auction because he’d seen the Grandmagister writing in his journal.
Drawn to the goblinkin-infested city by tales of indescribable wealth, Brandt had put the Grandmagister to the task of solving a riddle that had allowed them to plunder the loot. During that night in the all but forgotten graveyard where a wizard had left his fortune, and when the Grandmagister had found the first four books hidden in ruins on the mainland, the Grandmagister had also risked his life to save Cobner’s. The dwarven warrior had always insisted that the Grandmagister had the most interesting scar for saving his life. They had become the deepest of friends in the years that had followed.
“Aye,” Cobner growled, grinning wider still. “Surprised to see me?” He lifted his battle-axe and drove the ironclad hilt hard against one of his opponent’s helmets, knocking the man unconscious almost effortlessly.
“Very,” Juhg admitted. The man in front of him had regained his senses enough to reach for his sword. Juhg stomped on his fingers, then kicked him in the head, knocking him out against the cobblestones.
“Hah!” Cobner growled with pride. “I see you haven’t forgot all that ol’ Cobner taught you. Was Wick that taught me halfers might be small but they had the hearts of warriors.”
Several of the humans got to their feet and took up arms.
“I’ll be talking to you soon,” Cobner promised. “Just stay alive. Wick told me what he had to do here was going to be interesting.” He slammed shut the faceplate of his helmet. “I’m looking forward to it.” He took up his battle-axe in both hands and started battling ferociously.
One of the men got up and started for Juhg. The man drew his sword back and Juhg had no doubt that the man intended to kill him.
The man stopped suddenly and looked down at his chest. An arrowhead protruded through his armor where his heart would be. He tottered
forward another step, then fell on his face. The arrow that had entered through his back and pierced him all the way through stood upright between his shoulder blades. The fletchings were a unique violet and blue pattern.
forward another step, then fell on his face. The arrow that had entered through his back and pierced him all the way through stood upright between his shoulder blades. The fletchings were a unique violet and blue pattern.
Looking back past the dead man and past Cobner driving two men backward against a wall with his battle-axe haft shoved against their throats, Juhg spotted the young elven maid at the end of the alley calmly putting another arrow to string as if killing a man were something she did every day.
She was lissome and lovely. Her bronze hair gleamed in the sunlight, tied back in a queue that left her pointed ears revealed for all to see. High warder’s boots rose to her knees. She wore a violet jacket over white breeches. A longsword hung at her hip.
She lifted her chin in greeting, then put a shaft through the eye of an opponent who drew back his own bow. Before the dead man fell, she’d reached over her shoulder and pulled out another arrow.
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