The Hordes of Chanakra (Knights of Aerioch) (12 page)

They entered the inn where the other man soon met them.

"Let us see those firestones," the newcomer said.

The wizard was about Shillond's height and weight, but there the resemblance ended.  Where Shillond's eyes were green, the wizard’s were a dark brown that was almost black, but the difference was yet deeper.  Where Shillond's eyes ever held a glint of amusement, the eyes of this strange wizard betrayed no hint that he had ever smiled.  Although his hair was grayer than Shillond's, his face was scarce lined.

"How do I know you won't just kill me and take the stones?" Shillond asked.

"Because had I wished to do so," the newcomer's voice took on an edge that sent a shiver through Kreg, "I would have done so already."

Shillond tugged free a slim cord from about his neck.  A small pouch depended from it.  He opened the pouch and spilled out a dozen dull, red stones.

"Red rocks," the newcomer shook his head. "If you are trying to deceive me..." His voice threatened death, slow and terrible.

Shillond was jiggling the stones in his hand.  He poured them into the other palm. "Feel them."

The newcomer took one in his hand.  He held it close in front of his eyes, turning it first one way, then another, while Shillond poured the others back into the pouch.

"They do grow warm when exposed to light," the newcomer admitted. "But not fast; a low quality of stone.  I will give you ten rabeni for the lot." He clenched the stone into his fist.

"Twenty!" Shillond piped up.

"I do not haggle," the man's tone again took on that dangerous edge. "Ten."

Shillond gulped. "Ten it is, then."

#

"Make no mistake," Shillond told Kreg and Kaila when they were alone. "That was a fire mage, a specialist in fire magics.  You noticed how the firestones did not affect him?  Well, look."

He showed them the palm of his hand, red and inflamed.  Kreg could see one blister already rising. "And I have quite a number of fire spells myself so I am relatively immune to magic-spawned heat."

"Those rocks did that?" Kreg peered closely at Shillond's burned hand.  He reached out a finger to touch it, but drew it back hastily.

"Firestones get hot when exposed to light," Shillond said. "And they get hotter as time passes."

"Aside from starting fires and causing burns--" Kreg eyed Shillond's palm thoughtfully. "--what use are they?"

"A regular barrel of questions, aren't you?" Shillond said. "Well, when firestones get hot enough, they burst into flame, consuming themselves.  That releases a form of energy that a mage can use to augment his power a bit.  A good quality stone will do that almost instantly.  The ones I sold will take some time to do so."

"You have given to our enemies a source of more magical power?" Kaila sat back in surprise. "Father, what..."

Shillond shook his head. "Those stones are so poor that they won't release much energy at all.  I don't think I've compromised Aerioch, not enough to affect the course of the war."

Kaila looked dubious for a moment then nodded. "We have business to be about.  What is our course now?"

Shillond rubbed his chin. "These Chanakran wizards seem to be the key.  Now we know they’re real and not just rumor.  We still don't know where the troops are coming from, but without the wizards, Schah would not long be a threat I think."

He stood up and began to pace the small room. "I think perhaps we can learn more about them in Chanakra itself.  We'll continue down to the port city, Schak, and try to arrange passage.  I think it is there we will find the answer to this riddle."

"Chanakra does not speak the Shendi tongue," Kaila said.

"No," Shillond agreed. "They do not, but we will be travelers from Schah and will not need to speak their language ourselves much.  I know enough of the Chanakran language to serve our need.  Traders and such in Chanakra will speak our tongue and with what I know of Chanakran we should have no serious trouble."

#

Kreg awoke that night to a hand over his mouth.  A sharp pain exploded over his right temple and he knew no more.

When he awoke again, he was standing on a cold stone floor.  His hands were chained above him, supporting his weight.  He shivered in the chill, damp air.  With a silent marshalling of his strength, he opened his eyes.

He stood in the middle of the room.  Large metal staples, driven into the ceiling, secured the chains that held his arms.  The stone was crazed and cracked, crumbling in spots.  A foul stench, as of rotting garbage and untreated sewage, permeated the air.

Shillond hung in chains on Kreg's right, unconscious, and an empty set of manacles hung from the ceiling beyond Shillond.  When Kreg looked around, his stomach muscles spasmed.  A large cauldron hung from a tripod over a pit.  Hot coals glowed in that pit and a bubbling sound came from the cauldron.  Somehow, Kreg did not think that this room did double duty as a kitchen, not unless the local Schahi had some rather unsavory, dietary habits.  Several metal instruments protruded from the coals, their long handles extending outward.  Other objects caught Kreg's attention including a rack, what may have been thumbscrews, and a vise-like device connected to a heavy metal boot.

Kreg found his attention drawn back to the ceiling above him.  The stone was weathered, almost rotten, pierced many times where other staples had once been driven into it.

Shillond had awakened while Kreg was making his inspection. "Nice inn, no?"

"No," Kreg said. "But since they obviously don't want us to leave--" He rattled his chains. "--why don't we complain to the management?"

"That would serve you no purpose." The new voice came from the doorway. "I see you are awake, Shillond.  How good of you to accept our invitation."

"How could I refuse your kind offer so graciously presented?" Shillond said flatly.

"You may note--" The man stepped into clearer view.  He was the mage who had purchased the firestones.  His expressionless face betrayed no response to Shillond's jibe. "--that your chains inhibit your magical powers."

"Why, now that you mention it," Shillond said, "I was feeling a mite feeble in the aether."

"Laugh all you want, fool." The mage backhanded Shillond. "You are going to die most unpleasantly."

Shillond smiled benignly, ignoring the blood at the corner of his mouth.

"I believe the operative term," Kreg said before Shillond could respond, "is 'go for it'."

The mage turned on his heel and stalked out.

"Well." Shillond twisted his head to wipe the blood on his shoulder. "I had hoped to goad him into revealing Kaila's location."

"We'll worry about that when we're out of here," Kreg said.

"Really, dear boy." Shillond chuckled. "An excellent plan, but the problem seems to be these chains.  The man was quite correct in saying that they inhibit my magic."

"Well, they are too strong to break," Kreg admitted as he jerked at the chains.  He stared up at the ceiling. "But that stone looks pretty old, pretty rotten.  Let's see just how solidly the chains are fastened in place."

He grasped the chains in his hands and began to swing back and forth.

"What are you doing?" Shillond asked.

"Trying to build up momentum," Kreg said.

With a loud grunt, he swung his feet up and planted them on the ceiling, between the chains.

"Okay, you little buggers, let's see what you're really made of." The muscles in Kreg's legs bunched as he added his strength to his weight.  He rocked forward and back, trying to wiggle looseness into the heavy staples that held the chains in place.  He felt them give a little.

Kreg threw back his head as he redoubled his effort.  The cords in his neck stood out from the strain. "Come...on."

Without warning, the chains gave way.  Kreg hurled his arms ahead of him in an effort to ward off the floor.  He hit hard.

CHAPTER SEVEN

"Kreg?" Shillond twisted in his chains in an effort to see Kreg. "Are you hurt?"

Kreg slowly got to his feet, poking at a large knot on his head.  Flame writhed through his left shoulder.  The chain on that side had not given way until his full weight had yanked on it in his fall.  Not dislocated, not quite, but badly sprained. "You'd think by now I'd be used to getting battered." He looked up, focusing on Shillond. "At least I don't think I picked up another concussion."

"Kreg," Shillond said, "my chains?"

"Right." Kreg nodded.  He inspected Shillond's chains.  Not steel, they seemed to be made of copper or bronze.  Still -- "no way can I break these; I'm no circus strongman." He massaged his left shoulder.  A flare of pain forced him to suck air over clenched teeth. "I'm not anxious to repeat my last trick."

Shillond nodded in the direction of the firepot. "Tools."

Kreg followed the direction of Shillond's gaze.  His eyes lit on the tools in the fire. "Bingo."

He selected two slim pokers.  Their tips glowed yellow-white until Kreg dunked them in a bucket of musty water to cool.  A cloud of steam billowed up into his face causing him to jerk his head back.

"Now let's see what we can do." Kreg wedged the ends of the two pokers into opposite sides of one link in Shillond's chains.  Grasping the ends of the pokers, he heaved, shouted, and dropped the pokers.  His left shoulder blazed agony as the pokers rang against the stone floor.

"Oh, God, that hurts," Kreg whispered in English.

"Kreg?" Shillond said.

"No, I'm all right." He picked up the pokers. "Let's try that again."

Steeling himself against the pain, Kreg reset the pokers and pulled.  Sweat beaded on his face as he clamped his teeth on another scream.

Slowly the link bent, then parted.  Kreg just escaped rapping his knuckles together as the pokers came free.

As Shillond let his now freed arm drop to his side, Kreg bent over, sucking air in deep gulps.  He held his left arm pressed against his side, swearing softly but with conviction.  He waited until the pain subsided to a steady throb.  A moment later, he straightened. "Let's get that other one done."

Kreg was moving around to Shillond's other side when Shillond said, "Someone is coming.  They may have heard...."

Forgetting pain for a moment, Kreg dashed to the door.  He took a position behind it, holding one of the pokers in his right hand like a club or a clumsy sword.

Kreg tightened his grip on the poker as a rattle of keys sounded on the opposite side of the door.  With a groan of tired hinges the door ground open.

"Kreg, no!" Shillond's shout caused Kreg to check his swing just as Kaila stepped into the room.

"Kaila!" Kreg sagged against the wall, letting the poker drop from his hand. "What are you doing here?"

She looked from Kreg to Shillond then back to Kreg.  Her eyes held no expression as they locked with Kreg's.  Instead of their normal sparkling silver they were dryer, a gunmetal gray.

"Rescuing you." The chill in Kaila's voice caused Kreg to take an involuntary step backward.

"Yeah," Kreg said. "Right."

"I have the keys." Kaila walked over to Shillond and released him.  Next, she released the chains hanging from Kreg's arms.

"I have also recovered our weapons," Kaila said and handed Kreg his sword.

Kreg opened his mouth to ask how she had escaped, then obtained the keys, and the weapons--it seemed a bit much even for her.  A glare from Kaila silenced him.  Instead, he said, "Thanks." He took the sword, then the bow and arrows she passed to him. "I think."

"Kaila, this is unlike you," Shillond said.

"I have seen...horrible things," Kaila said. "It will take me...some time...to recover."

"Kaila--" Kreg started.

She whirled on him. "'Your Grace' is the proper form of address."

Kreg frowned. "Yes...Your Grace."

"Come.  We tarry here overlong." Kaila swept out of the room.

"Something is wrong," Shillond whispered to Kreg. "Dreadfully wrong.  Be alert."

Kreg nodded.  They followed Kaila out of the room.

#

The halls of the keep were deserted as they stole out of the dungeon.

"Where are the guards?" Kreg peered into the gloom.  Darkness had fallen, Kreg did not know how long ago.  They had escaped the dungeon but they still had to find their way out of the keep.

"Why seek you such?" Kaila asked. "Give thanks instead that we have met none and have done."

"I might," Kreg said, "if I didn't think we're being led down the primrose path."

Kaila looked him up and down in obvious disgust. "You babble again."

"But he's right, Kaila," Shillond said. "There should be guards.  The fact that we find none means that there is more here than appearances would suggest."

"If there be more," Kaila's voice took on a pleading tone, "then we will deal with it when we must.  Let us leave now.  This place likes me not!"

"You are right, of course." Shillond smiled. "And as my magic is swiftly returning the longer whoever is orchestrating this little intrigue delays, the greater our chances to prevail."

They began to move again: Kaila first, with Kreg bringing up the rear.  They kept Shillond in the protected position between them.  Kreg wondered how protected any position could be in the bowels of the enemy camp.  They did not even know the way out.  The mission appeared over before it had well begun.

Kreg's reverie almost cost him his life.  He spun at the sound of a sword being drawn.  Barely in time did he raise his own sword to deflect the attack of the guard who had managed to sneak up behind them.  The first strike sent a jolt up Kreg's left arm, forcing him to drop that hand from the grip.

Kreg stepped back, holding the sword awkwardly in one hand in contrast to the two-handed grip that Kaila had taught him.  The guard leapt forward.  Awkward or not, Kreg proved more than the guard's match.  A short exchange and the guard lay dead at Kreg's feet.

"So much for sneaking around," Kreg said. "They must have heard that in the entire castle.  Let's get out of here."

"Yes." Kaila's eyes flashed anger. "The noise is sure to bring the guards that you were so anxious to meet."

"Not anxious," Kreg started to say, "just--"

"No time to argue," Shillond snapped. "Move."

They ran.  Kaila, for all her strength and quickness, was slowed somewhat by her armor.  Shillond also proved less than swift.  Kreg found himself forced to slow to keep pace with them.

They rounded a corner and sprinted under an arch, into a small courtyard.  Kreg could see the main gate to the keep just ahead.  A gatehouse and iron portcullis--down--guarded the gate.  Two towers, topped by crenellated battlements, flanked it.

Men poured out of the open doors to the two towers, leaving two of their number to guard those doors.  They assembled in front of the gate.  More men swarmed within the gatehouse.  All carried swords and shields.

Kreg shifted direction slightly, veering to the right.  His move caught the two men at the door by surprise and he bowled them over before they knew what he intended.  He dove through the door of the tower and bolted up the stairs.

Shillond hung tight on Kreg's heels, panting from the exertion.  Kaila, even weighed down by her heavy leather vest, showed no signs of fatigue.  She paused at the doorway and, with quick thrusts of her sword, dispatched the two that Kreg had knocked over.  She took a second to slam the door and ram the bolt home before following Kreg and Shillond up the stairs.

"Guards you wanted?" Shillond's chest shook as he drew in huge gulps of air.

"Not wanted exactly, no," Kreg said. "But even so, this is ridiculous."

Kreg peered out over the low wall surmounting the tower through the space between two merlons.  An army camped before the keep.

"Well." Kreg grinned humorlessly. "It was nice knowing you folks."  He nocked an arrow as his gaze roved the army for a target.  The soldiers below were shouting and advancing on the castle like an onrushing tide.  An arrow hummed past Kreg.

"Don't look for Pireth’s Chariot yet." Shillond had regained his breath. "My powers have returned and I think it’s time that I took a hand."

Shillond took a stand at the edge of the tower, so close that his toes nearly touched the low wall.  As arrows flew past unheeded, he raised his arms overhead then swiftly brought them down until they were straight out in front of him.  He said, in a loud, clear voice that was not quite a shout, "Klinkyl negshiri rantharnom!"

The ground on which the army encamped erupted in flame.  Men and beasts ran in panic until the spread of flames engulfed them.  Everything burned; cloth, flesh...even iron burned.  Despite the nearly suffocating heat, the screams of the dying sent a cold shiver through Kreg.

As Kreg stared at the dying flames a movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and causing him to turn.  Kaila had her sword out and drawn back to strike a blow at....

"Shillond!" Kreg dove, shoving Shillond out of the way of a blow meant to bisect him vertically.  Instead of killing Shillond, the sword struck Kreg a glancing blow on the left temple with the flat that nevertheless split the skin.  His head ringing, Kreg retained the presence of mind to roll out of the way of the return strike he knew without seeing was coming.

Kreg came up against the battlement and used that to shove himself to his feet.  He shook his head clear and saw Kaila coming after him.  Something was wrong with her.  Kreg knew how fast she was; she could have killed him several times over by now.  He dove aside at her clumsy, overhead slash.  With his left hand he wiped away blood that had run from the gash on his temple into his eyes.

Kreg backpedaled while his mind raced.  The way Kaila was fighting now he could probably kill her, but he did not want to do that.  The question was whether he could subdue her without killing her, and without being killed himself.  If he could not get in close enough to grapple with her, he would have to drop her with the first strike.  Kreg was certain that even slowed and clumsy, Kaila would not allow a second.

Kaila's thrust at his midsection almost ended his dilemma.  He parried and sidestepped.  Forcing himself to ignore the pain in his shoulder, he brought his left hand back to his sword's hilt.

Kaila's blows were coming faster--and more accurately.  Kreg sidestepped again and nearly tripped over Shillond's prone form.  Kaila took advantage of his distraction.  Her sword raked down Kreg's own left arm, leaving another bloody gash.  Kreg barely noticed this new pain.

Shillond popped up from the rooftop, startling both Kreg and Kaila. "
Sorthenkyl
!" he said.

Kaila swayed for an instant.  Her sword drooped.  Then, sighing softly, she toppled to the stones underfoot.

"I'm sorry for the delay," Shillond said. "I had to catch her unawares.  That spell will not work against anyone who resists and there was no time for more."

At the mention of time, Kreg realized that less than a minute had passed since they had barged onto the roof of the tower. "Now what?" he asked.  He heard a pounding at the trap door to the roof and wondered how long it had been going on.  Someone, Shillond probably, had thrown the bolt and thus kept the guards out...for a time.

"We must get off this tower," Shillond said.  The twinkle was gone from his eyes.  A forehead creased with worry had replaced it. "I have a minor spell that will get me down quite easily, but--"

"I can get down okay," Kreg said.  He hoped so.  The roof was twenty feet above the ground.  If he could avoid a broken leg in the fall he should be all right. "How good is that sleeping spell?"

"It is stronger than the one I used to help you rest.  Nothing will wake her for some hours unless I cancel the spell." Shillond paused for a moment in thought. "I think I see what you mean."

"Okay," Kreg said. "Let's get out of here."

Shillond muttered three words under his breath and climbed down the tower, clinging to it like some spider.  Kreg dragged Kaila's inert form to the edge.  He stole a quick glance at the trap door.  The wood had begun to splinter from the pounding.  He would have to hurry.

Kreg heaved at Kaila's body in a vain attempt to lift her onto the low wall.

"Sorry, Kaila." He began to strip off the leather vest. "This stuff's too heavy for what I have in mind."

With Kaila's armor gone, he could lift her with only minor strain--until he put weight on his left arm but by now that pain had become almost normal.  Keeping a tight grip on both her wrists, he eased her over the edge.  He let her hang for a moment, as low as he could reach, then let go.  With luck, she would be unhurt by her fall.  As he straightened, he heard the sound of the trapdoor banging open.

Kreg leaped to the next gap between two merlons, and paused for just an instant.  Glancing back, he saw the wizard who had imprisoned them climbing through the trapdoor.  Kreg held his breath as the wizard said something and gestured in Kreg's direction.  He expected to be incinerated on the spot but nothing happened.  The stunned expression on the wizard's face told Kreg that he was as amazed as Kreg.