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truce, and you may leave freely when we are done.”
“Me too?” asked Nakor.
Jatuk didn’t deign to answer, merely waving away the question as he turned his back on the pair.
He walked to his horse, held by another Saaur warrior, and with a gesture indicated he wanted his travel pack. The warrior complied and handed down a bag that a human would have been hard-pressed to carry.
Pug was again staggered by the scale of the Saaur. The average warrior topped out at twelve feet tall, with a few slightly taller. Their horses were close to twenty-five hands compared to the seven-teen or eighteen hands of a heavy Midkemian warhorse. Pug was also impressed at their efficiency in setting up camp. He reminded himself these were originally a nomadic people, who despite having constructed great cities on their homeworld of Shila, had remained nomads at heart. The majority of the Saaur roamed the great grassy plains of Shila, thousands of horsemen and their families and herds accompanying them on their endless trek.
A demon attack had ended that great civilization.
Of the millions of Saaur who had dominated their homeworld at its height, less than ten thousand had survived on Midkemia. Pug assumed that the last few years of warfare had kept their numbers low, but knew they were a people facing a grim future if they couldn’t find a respite from warfare.
A fire was built and Jatuk motioned for Pug and Nakor to join him. His reptilian face was surprisingly expressive, and the more Pug watched those giant warriors the easier it became to see individual differences. A warrior took the role of Jatuk’s servant, pro-
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viding him with a wooden bowl of water for him to refresh himself with. He washed face and hands, and at the end ran a damp towel across the back of his neck. That gesture was the most reassuring thing Pug had seen of the Saaur, for it was the most humanlike display he had seen that didn’t involve bloodshed.
While traveling through the destroyed world of Shila with the spirit of the last Lore Master of the Saaur, Haman, Pug had come to learn a lot of the people of that world and their history. He doubted human and Saaur could ever be close friends on Midkemia, but he thought with some work, they could become respectful of one another, leaving each other alone for the most part, as humans and elves, and humans and dwarves, tended to. He knew humanity didn’t need another enemy like the moredhel, goblins, or trolls, especially not an enemy as physically powerful and determined as the Saaur.
Jatuk said, “We placed the heads of those men who would not quit the grasslands on poles to stand as warning. Yet you ignored the warning to seek us out. We are tired of your kind, Black Robe. We have known nothing but death and loss since coming to this world.” He motioned to the northeast, up the vast Thunderhell. “This is land we understand. There are rolling plains, water, the cattle we have taken thrive here.”
Pug nodded. Then he said, “But it is not your land.”
“This is not our world,” said Jatuk bitterly. “So we must take what we can.” He gazed to the south.
“You have suffered, you humans of the Kingdom, and I now understand that it was through no fault of yours that we were brought here. But we have no 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 205
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means to return home, and even if we could, what would we find there, Black Robe?”
“A burned-out world populated by starving demons, hunting one another down for food until only one is left. In time, it will starve and wither.
Finally, it will die.”
“So there is nowhere to go.”
Pug said, “Perhaps there is.”
Jatuk looked at Pug and said, “Where?”
“I don’t know yet, but Midkemia is a big world.
Here the grasslands appear vast, but you know your own history. Once your forebears were as you are now, a small band abandoned upon Shila by the Valheru called Alma-Lodaka.”
Despite having learned the truth of their “goddess’s” nature in the last year, old habits died hard, and the older Saaur bowed their heads in reverence at the Green Mother’s name.
“But over the ages,” Pug continued, “your nation grew until you had conquered the entire globe. You and your children may be content to wander the Thunderhell, to fight the nomadic tribes that already claim this land, but eventually you’ll return to the villages and towns of my nation. You will either have to make war or change your ways.”
Jatuk was silent. “What can we do?”
Pug said, “Abide. Leave those of us to the south alone and we will leave you alone. When we have disposed of Fadawah and his men, and have restored peace to our land, we shall turn our minds and will to the problem of finding the Saaur a proper home.”
Jatuk thought on this, and at last said, “Do not take too long in making things so, Black Robe, for my people are coming to like living here. Should too 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 206
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much time pass, we shall resist leaving.”
“I understand,” said Pug. To himself he added, Now if I can only get Patrick to understand. He pushed that thought aside as food was put before Nakor and him, and decided the opportunity to learn more about the Saaur was too good to ignore. He would worry about Patrick’s reaction when he returned to Darkmoor in the morning.
Patrick said, “You did what?”
Pug said, “I gave them assurances we would aid them in relocating out of the Kingdom after we disposed of Fadawah.”
“But they agreed to leave?”
“Yes, if we can find them a reasonable alternative.”
“Find them an alternative!” Patrick shouted.
The full court was about to commence, and the Prince was holding an impromptu interview with Pug, Nakor, Arutha, and his sons. “Those monsters killed three hundred of my men!”
Arutha said, “A misunderstanding, Highness.”
“A misunderstanding?” Patrick appeared unconvinced. Turning to Pug he said, “Why did you dis-obey me? I ordered you to destroy them if they wouldn’t quit the Kingdom at once.”
Pug was growing tired of the young Prince’s manner. “Highness, I am not an executioner. I have fought for the Kingdom, but I will not use my powers to destroy an entire race because you are piqued.”
“Piqued!” Patrick’s temper exploded. “You dare to talk to me in such a fashion?”
Pug stood, looked at Arutha, then said, “Explain things to the boy, or I will go to his father and have 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 207
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this discussion with the King. And when I get finished, Boric may have to reconsider who is running this half of his Kingdom.”
The Prince’s eyes widened, and as Pug turned to leave, Patrick shouted, “I have not given you leave to depart!”
Pug ignored the Prince and walked out through the door. Nakor stood and said to Arutha, “I’d better go with him.” To Patrick he said, “And you better listen to him, boy. For he is powerful enough to be your greatest ally, or your worst enemy.”
Patrick’s mouth fell open at the little man’s added insult. He looked at Arutha, who only shook his head slightly and said, “We have court, Highness.”
Dash and Jimmy exchanged glances but said nothing. Patrick stood motionless for a long minute, then composed himself. “You are right, my lord duke. We mustn’t keep the court waiting.”
As Jimmy and Dash ducked out of a side door, Jimmy said, “Duke Pug has a lot of confidence in his ability to persuade the King he’s right to embarrass the Prince that way.”
They walked toward the courtyard. Dash said,
“From everything I’ve heard . . . well, it’s probably a well-earned confidence.” He glanced around. “Look, we both know that Patrick’s got a temper. W
e had enough fights with him when we were children. And we know the King kept him off the throne of Krondor an extra year because he didn’t think he was ready.”
Jimmy’s voice lowered. “Well, he wasn’t.”
“He’s still not,” said Dash.
Jimmy regarded his brother and very quietly said,
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servants of the crown. We have no choice.”
Dash said, “Father better keep him under control, or a lot of us are going to die because we have no choice.” Dash’s voice turned slightly angry. “Look, this isn’t a play-yard argument over who gets to ride the pony first, or who is going to pick first for the ball game. This is war, and it’s not going to be a pretty one.”
Nakor came around the corner. “Ah, there you are. I’ve been looking for you.”
Jimmy grinned. “For what?”
“I need to get some information from you, and if you have what I need, we need to go retake the Abbey of Sarth.”
Dash and Jimmy’s eyes opened wide at that last statement. “Retake the abbey?” asked Dash.
“If you remember, your grandfather once told me a story about the time he had to sneak into the Abbey of Sarth with that renegade moredhel chieftain.”
Jimmy looked at Dash. “Do you remember any story like that?”
“No,” said Dash. “I thought I’d heard every story Grandfather ever told.”
From behind them a voice said, “No, you didn’t.”
They looked to see Duke Arutha standing there.
“But I remember that story.”
Nakor grinned. “Subai has a goat trail over the mountains that leads to a little valley down near the base of the mountain upon which the old Ishapian abbey sits.”
Arutha paused for a minute, then said, “So while we’re conducting the business of establishing a court in Krondor, sending armies around here and there, and while Fadawah’s agents are closely watching, 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 209
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you want to sneak over the mountains, find that secret entrance into the basement of the abbey, capture and hold it until Greylock can drive up into the town, and secure the area?”
“Something like that, but leave out the ‘you’ business. Someone a little younger should run this raid.”
He glanced at the brothers, who looked at each other.
“No,” they said simultaneously. “That’s a task for the Eagles or Pathfinders!” added Dash.
Arutha said, “We’ll talk about it. But Nakor’s right. If I can remember what Father told me about that entrance, and if it’s still there and usable, we could shorten this war by a year.”
He walked away, heading for the Prince’s morning court, and Jimmy turned to Nakor. “Is Pug all right?”
“He’s just frustrated,” said Nakor. “Patrick wants quick solutions and Pug knows the same itch, but he’s old enough to know that the quickest solutions often are the ones with the highest price.” He put his hands on the brothers’ shoulders and moved along the hall with them. “He must weigh things in his mind, decide where his true loyalties lie.”
Jimmy said, “Loyalties lie? He’s a noble of the Kingdom; he was adopted into the royal family.”
“But he has larger responsibilities,” said Nakor.
“Remember, he didn’t just save the Kingdom from destruction; he saved the entire world of Midkemia, including all those men on the other side, the Saaur, any Pantathians who may be alive out there, the Brotherhood of the Dark Path, everyone.”
Jimmy said, “But he can’t just toss aside his loyalty to the Kingdom.”
Dash said, “Don’t be so sure.”
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“I don’t think he’s going to toss anything aside,”
said Nakor as they walked into the courtyard. “At least not lightly.”
Pug popped into view on the bank of a river.
“Hello!” he called.
A moment later a voice called back, “Welcome, magician.”
“Have I leave to enter?”
“You are welcome in Elvandar,” came the reply as a figure stepped out from behind a tree.
“Galain!” said Pug as he waded across the sandy ford he always preferred to use to enter the elven woods.
The young—by elvish standards—warrior stood with the tip of his longbow on the ground in a relaxed posture. “I came to watch when Miranda showed up two days ago. I thought you might come by shortly.”
“I’m glad you did. What news of the court?”
“The court is in mourning. He who was your companion, and once was Duke of Crydee, has left us for the Blessed Isles.”
Pug nodded. Martin Longbow had been approaching a hundred years of age and had lived his last here, with the people who had raised him as a child. “Marcus and Margaret?” asked Pug, referring to Martin’s children.
“They came, with their mates and children, and they collected the body of their father. They returned him to Crydee, to bury in a vault as is their custom.”
“How long ago?”
“Not long, a few weeks. Marcus and his party left the banks of the river less than two weeks ago.”
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Pug nodded. “That would explain why word had not reached us. It will take weeks more for Marcus to send word by ship to Port Vykor. The Prince will not have heard it.” He looked at the elf. “Thank you for telling me. That one was a true friend, the last save Tomas, from my first years in Crydee.”
“He was well loved by us all.”
“How are the others?”
“Save that loss, all is well.” He shouldered his bow and said, “The Queen is well, as is Tomas.
Prince Calin and Redtree hunt together. Despite the war to the east of us, the invaders do not try to cross into Crydee, so they do not trouble our borders.”
“How is Calis?”
Galain smiled. “He most of all is well. Since his birth I have not known him to be as happy as he is. I think the release of the Lifestone has freed him from a dreadful part of his heritage.”
Pug said, “I am impatient to see my wife.”
“I understand,” said Galain, “from what I’ve seen.
So far I have not had the fortune to meet she who will be my wife.”
“You’re young,” said Pug dryly. “Barely past a century.”
Galain smiled. “This is true.” He held up his hand and said, “I will see you back at the court in a few days.”
“I can take you with me,” said Pug.
“I have other duties. I must make a patrol along the river you humans call Crydee. I just came this way to greet you.”
Considering the number of times he had visited the elves, Pug correctly interpreted the remark and said, “Thank you for making the effort.”
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“You are welcome.”
Pug activated the device he carried and found himself floating above the treetops a half-mile from where he wanted to be. He barely got control of his powers in time to keep from falling to his death and landed gently. Feeling shaken, he examined the Tsurani sphere and saw a fading along a portion of it that told him it was no longer usable. He regretted the loss of the device. His ability to quickly move from place to place was now gone, until he learned the trick Miranada had of moving at will without aid.
He put it back inside his robe. Several other such devices were being studied back at his island by his students, and another might prove useful. He remembered the days of free trading with the Empire of Tsurannuani through the rift gates. Now there was only one, at Stardock,
closely monitored on both sides. For a dark moment he wondered if there was anything mankind couldn’t make a mess of; not for the last time in his life he cursed Makala, the Tsurani magician whose badly conceived treachery had caused the estrangement between the two worlds, all motivated by the highest ideals: to serve the Empire.
Well, he thought, dwelling on past failures once you’d learned all there was to learn was just heaping futility on failure. He put aside reminiscences and started walking.
A short time later he reached the large clearing that surrounded Elvandar, keeping it apart from the surrounding forest. As every time before, he found himself captivated by the sight of it. Even in the brightest daylight the colors of the trees were other-worldly. The magic of the place was powerful, but subtle, a sweet counterpoint to what nature had fash-
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ioned, a wonderful feeling of rightness.
High above large branches with flattened tops formed walkways between boles, and along the base of the trees cooking fires and tanning racks, pottery wheels, and other craft areas sat. Pug was greeted by several elves who recognized him, and those who did not nevertheless nodded in greeting.
He made his way along the climbing path of steps and branches until he was at the center of the great elven city. At the boundary to the Queen’s court, he found Tathar, the Queen’s seniormost advisor, waiting. “Magician!” Tathar said, extending his hand to shake in the human fashion. “It is good to see you again.”
Pug said, “It is good to see you as well, old friend.” He glanced around and said, “It is good to again be in Elvandar.” He looked at Tathar. “My wife?”
“She is with the Queen and Tomas,” answered the old advisor. “Come.”
He led Pug into the heart of the Queen’s court, where Queen Aglaranna, Tomas, and Miranda were sitting in conversation. Seeing his boyhood friend, Tomas rose, but it was Miranda who reached her husband first. “I didn’t think you were coming!” she said, delighted to be wrong.
“I didn’t think I was either,” said Pug. “But I had a bit of an argument with Patrick—”