Chapter V:
A Darkness
To Ilvas
The road to Ilvas wound through a hilly and untamed country. In the days following the Sundering the people of northern Sunlan had banded together in fortified towns and cities, abandoning the open hill country across which they had been scattered. The dangers posed by the constant mortal warfare of the War of Peace was too great for any village to survive without some protection.
Candor Proud passed many empty farms and many forsaken villages as he made his way along the old highway toward Esessa, the city which now stood upon the eastern banks of the Esse River near the North Bridge. This was, though it had changed much over the centuries, the very same road that brought Pelas and Agonas into Sunlan in the first place.
Some of the villages he passed were not merely abandoned. Some had been burned with fire and broken in pieces, now left to be reclaimed by the elements.
There was a cold wind passing over the hills that evening, as if Winter meant to skip the Spring altogether, and make its return immediately. This was to be expected in the north, however, and Candor's cloak was more than sufficient to keep him warm. The road appeared to have been well traveled, but there was no one else upon the road that day. There were fresh tracks in the dirt, and piles of horse manure still teeming with flies. But he saw no sign of other travelers beside these.
Finally he came to Esessa and was allowed into the city just before they closed the gates for the evening. He had spent a few days sleeping in abandoned barns he had found along the way. A bed would be a nice change, he thought.
In the dining hall he took a meal of spiced mutton and a rather bland stew of carrots and potatoes. He was given a small loaf of bread and a glob of butter for it. The serving girl at this inn was far less friendly than the girl he had seen in Evnai. There were more men in this inn than in the Hooked Fish, but none of them looked at all like they were just passing the time. Three men sat at one table whispering, the meanest looking of them trimming his fingernails with a throwing knife.
In one corner of the inn he saw a rather frightened looking young girl with long, curly brown hair - she could not be more than twenty years of age. She seemed to be hiding behind a rather robust looking old man.
Candor shook his head. If the old man wanted to protect her, he should have put her in a room by now. There were others in the inn taking notice of the girl's beauty, and not all of them were cold-hearted murderers like him, he thought to himself.
A grin passed over his face and he shook his head again. 'What is it about women?' he asked himself quietly. 'They are like one of Loyal's old poisons.'
Loyal was one of the reasons he had volunteered to come to Sunlan. They had received no word from the Star Seer for many months, and if three Black Adder were his guardians, Candor felt pretty sure that something had gone amiss. Most likely all four of them were dead, slain by some fool elf lord or by some superstitious mountain men. But the Magic Tower did not take chances with their secrets, though they took many chances with their people.
Loyal had taught Candor to make potions several years ago, especially the sort of potion that makes a person ready to speak the truth, overly-trusting and easy to manipulate.
A rough looking man went near the table where the two strange travelers were seated. He made some kind of gesture toward the woman, but the old man's face turned to iron and the man backed away.
Candor left two gold coins on the table and left the dining hall to find his room. He had already gotten into trouble for helping some fool Sunlander. He could not risk losing the trail of his spell book because he had meddled with these fools and their problems. The risks to the Tower took precedence over all other matters.
He closed the door to his room, threw down the latch. In a short time he was fast asleep.
The morning came quickly and he rose to wash, hoping to leave the city and cross the North Bridge before most of the commerce had begun. Esessa was a somewhat large city for north Sunlan. It was, properly speaking, loyal to Agonas and to Sunlan, but it received most of its wealth as well as most of its security from the army of Ilvas, which was but a day's ride to the north along the west bank of the Esse River. But as he went to cross the river he saw the old man from the inn again, suspiciously eying the other travelers as he attempted to barter with one of the merchants. The young woman sat nearby, seated upon a strong brown horse.
'I am telling you this is a god-hunter's sword,' the merchant hissed. 'You cannot sell these in Esessa, not unless you wish to be hauled by your toes to Morarta. I don't care how you said you found it, it is bad luck to so much as touch one of their blades.'
'Then melt it, sell the iron, I don't care what comes of it,' the man said, 'I need some provisions, and a sword I have already - and a better one at that.'
'Sell me that sword, then,' the merchant said mercilessly. 'I can buy a sword if it does not belong to Lord Morarta.'
'I will find another merchant,' the old man said desperately, hoping it would change the other man's mind.
But the merchant shook his head and said, 'you will not; that much I can assure you. If there is any place in Sunlan where you cannot sell such a blade it is here, where the Lord of the god-hunters himself passes every time he wishes to take council with the learned elves of Alwan and Ilvas.'
The old man brushed his hand nervously through his hair. He made as if to say something more, but turned and stormed away.
Candor followed after, both of them making their way along the west road, heading for the bridge. He soon overtook the man and called out to him, 'My good fellow traveler,' he said, 'I saw that you were trying to sell a blade.'
The old man turned cautiously to face the Black Adder, eyeing him suspiciously. 'Please,' Candor said with urgency, 'I need a sword desperately. I will give you gold, of course, as much as I have.'
'What do you need the sword to do, young man?' the old man asked.
Candor's eyes widened and he could not stop his eyes from darting up to look at the sky. 'The man is so desperate for money, but he won't sell me a sword if he thinks I mean to murder someone with it,' he thought angrily. The training he had received in Lapulia had all but cured him of such concerns. The Black Adder were brought to the Tower at an early age, and one of their first duties was the execution of prisoners. As soon as they were strong enough to wield a sword fatally they were given the task of killing those who had set themselves against the laws of the Magic City. By the time they were adults they were so used to killing human beings that they could do it with as much reflection as a butcher has for his chickens.
'I must leave on a journey at once, into Alwan, and I do not wish to go unarmed,' Candor replied. Of course, with thirteen knives, a Firesling, and six Lapulian Thunderstones, he was not exactly helpless. He still had all the gold he had taken from the prison in Evnai - gold that he really didn't need. If this man delayed him any further he would just have to give up and leave the man to his fate.
The man looked at Candor kindly and then said, 'If that is so, my friend, then you take the sword, but use it wisely, and do no harm to anyone.' He took the sword and passed it into Candor's hands.
The young woman looked at the older man with respect, subtly nodding her approval. This was not at all what he was trying to accomplish. It was much easier to kill people in their sleep than to give them a simple kindness, Candor thought. He took the sword and looked at it carefully.
'I insist upon the payment,' he said after a short pause. 'I have the gold for it. I receive it as though it were a gift, however, for I see that you have a kind heart. The kindness you have shown is within your heart, and not in the sword, so please do not think that you have lost anything for receiving the gold. My parents are Proud, and they would be furious to think that I, who had received so much from their hands, did not return their graciousness to others.' He offered the man a small pouch of gold coins and turned swiftly to the road. 'May our roads cross again,' he
said when he turned to face the girl, forgetting for a moment that this was a greeting unique to the Magic City.
She nodded solemnly, but said nothing.
'Poison,' he said quietly to himself, walking quickly up the road toward the bridge. As he vanished into the crowd of merchants and laborers that now made their way from Sunlan to Ilvas over the wide stone-wrought bridge Nonix watched him curiously.
'What is it?' Leai asked.
'He has turned along the north road. He said that he was going to Alwan,' the old warrior said with confusion. 'If the man was a liar, though, why would he insist upon making payment?'
'Perhaps our roads shall indeed cross again,' Leai said, her voice gentle, but still filled with sorrow.
'There is some kind of darkness hanging over him,' Nonix said with concern. 'Our own road lies to the north. Let us see where it leads us.'
In Ilvas
Nonix saw no further sign of the strange young man who had purchased the god-hunters' sword from him. Had he known that the lad meant to go north, and not to Alwan as he had claimed, he would have warned him about the blade's origin. For this reason he partly hoped that he would overtake the youth. The only settlement north of Esessa was Ilvas itself, and if the boy was heading there his sword's origin would be known at once. He could not imagine what the young man's purpose could be in the north.
For his part he hoped that the neutral government of Ilvas could offer him and Leai some protection, or perhaps some answer for what had happened to his village. He had heard that Ilvas at times offered refugees a place to dwell in return for their loyalty. He had no more loyalty to Sunlan; he could not, even if he wished, remain in that land.
But to settle in any of the three kingdoms without the leave of an elf lord was folly. Many had attempted to do just that, and when it had been discovered, they were treated like spies or traitors, and given welcome nowhere.
'Why must the elves rule over everything? Are they truly as strong as the legends say?' Leai asked him.
'They are strong, but not stronger than a man in his prime. Men wax and wane with age, however; the elves dwell in a perpetual prime, and show no signs of weariness as the years pass them by. But it is not chiefly in their strength of arms that they derive their authority. They rule because, like their skill in battle, their skill in political maneuvering is evergreen. Men can only plan for the length of their own lives. Elves can plan and plot until the world ends.'
They had spent most of the day on the northern road, entering the forest as the evening approached. The ancient stones of the highway, now deeply grooved from centuries of trade and traffic, forced their horse to walk slowly and carefully.
When evening came they camped behind a great rise in the eastern forest where the light of their cook fire would be hidden from the road. Around midnight, however, they were awakened from slumber by the sound of hooves on the stone. When Leai rose and peaked over the hill she found that Nonix was already awake, watching fearfully as a large party of horsemen passed them by.
'They are god-hunters,' he said, eyeing their dark armor. 'The knights of Sunlan wear red and gold, those of Alwan white, and those of Ilvas where grey or brown. Only the god-hunters have such dark apparel.'
'What are they doing here? Why are they in Ilvas?' Leai asked worriedly. Tears welled up in her eyes as she fought off panic.
'Do not worry,' Nonix said. 'I am sure they are only bringing a message to Lord Dalta; they do not dwell in this land.'
But even as he spoke several of the riders slowed down and strayed behind the others. They spoke loudly so that their voices could be heard over the sound of the clicking hooves. 'The forest road is watched,' one of them shouted, 'from North Bridge to the gates of Ilvas - or so it shall be within the hour.'
'As soon as we receive word from Lord Morarta,' the other said, 'we will start our search of the forest.'
They brought their horses to a stop and began slowly wandering off the road toward the forest, walking along the edge of the trees peering into the darkness.
'What are they searching for?' Leai asked fearfully.
'I do not know,' Nonix replied grimly. 'But we dare not let them find us. Come!' With that he bundled up their belongings and led her toward the river. He worried now that perhaps he had been a fool to think that they would find security in Ilvas. The three elvish kingdoms were at war, but it was only the blood of mortals that they saw fit to spill. They would not even ask questions if they stumbled across the two survivors of Esluna in the darkness. More than likely they would strike them dead before they even learned that they were from that ill-fated village.
They were forced to abandon the horse at their campsite, since the beast's hooves would make too much noise upon the rocks and in the bushes of the forest. 'The river is not yet fully guarded,' Nonix said as they hurried through the brush. 'That is our hope. We must pass into the north before they begin their search. We do not want to be found by the god-hunters, regardless of who their true prey may be.'
The Book At Last
Though the ancient fortress of Ilvas was the chief stronghold of the reborn Kingdom of Ilvas, Candor Proud had very little difficulty sneaking inside. The fortress had grown into a city and the city extended far beyond the original stone walls, encompassing an enormous portion of the forest.
Ilvas had always been close to the Esse River, and a branch of that river channeled into the fortress in the days of Pelas' rule, but as the elves grew in power in the days following the Sundering, the city was built right up to the Esse itself, and a great deal of trade was made possible by means of the water. Since Dalta essentially served as a barrier between the two rival kingdoms, swearing allegiance to both, he was able to trade in lumber and fur with men on both shores of the Esse River. There were always merchants entering the city, paying tribute in the fortress and otherwise going about their business. He found his way into the city posing as a merchant's guard. The merchant was well known to the guards, and passed through without being questioned about his business. He led a large caravan of goods and had enough guards hired that it was not difficult to overlook an extra man.
Thus, though thirteen guards entered with the merchant, only twelve departed and the guards did not count them either entering or leaving.
By luck or by fate Candor did not need to search long to find some trace of his book, either. The god-hunters entered the city like a gale, and ten of them in full armor marched straight through the halls of the fortress to speak with their master, who was then in council with some of the high elves.
Xanthur came out to them angrily, but when he heard their news, that the prisoner Theodysus had escaped - and escaped so mysteriously - he left with them at once, leaving a brief message of apology for the other high elves.
When the party had left, Candor made his way carefully to the hall where the high elves were in council. Upon the table lay an open book filled with colorful illustrations and fine black letters.
The elves Sol and Kolohi had both looked at it closely, but could not tell whether it meant anything more than the nonsense it recorded.
Kolohi thought it might contain some secret meaning, but in truth he was quite far from suspecting anything resembling the book's true purpose.
The other elves deemed it scarcely worth a second glance. Cheru, who was present on an errand from Lord Pelas, suggested they burn it with fire that very hour, and Oblis was naturally of the same mind. When Lord Pelas tired of his servants he was known to send them on pointless missions of diplomacy. 'Reassure Lord Dalta that the court of Pelas in Alwan bears him the highest regard,' he told them simply. Ginat was present as well, of course, as he was, properly speaking, the official emissary to Ilvas Kingdom.
Amro and Ghastin were present also, though Ghastin had long since retired from the council. The elves discussed various matters long into the night, leaving the book to sit upon the table untouched. But there was no means for Candor to acquire it at the time.
He very nearly burst into the room that moment with his knives at the ready when he heard them mention casting the book into the fire. But Cheru's council, as was the case with nearly all of his suggestions, was quickly contradicted, Amro suggesting they simply return the book to Xanthur. 'Let him and his god-hunters decide its fate,' he said. 'It will not tax the resources of this kingdom to store the book for a few nights, or to send it with a merchant or a courier to Morarta.'
Toward the end of the evening, after some questions about the weight and purity of Sunlan's gold coins were discussed, the meeting was called to an end, Sol considering their deliberations to be quite sufficient. 'I'll see to it that the book is cared for until Lord Morarta retrieves or sends for it,' he said to the others.
They departed together, each leaving to make their way to their own apartment. The emissaries of Pelas' court went to the western wing of the fortress, each being kept in separate quarters.
Candor followed them in silence without being noticed. The high elf Sol now had the book in his possession. He did not wish to kill such an important elf, since his mission did not directly involve any such actions. But the importance of preserving the secrets of the book outweighed any other concern. Even if he had to slay the king of Sunlan himself it would be a small matter when compared to the possibility that someone might discover the secrets of the Black Adder. However unlikely this might be, the very fact that the elves exhibited such interest in the book gave him pause.
He oiled the hinges of the tall oak door through which Sol had entered and, after waiting a few minutes for the oil to sink down onto the iron, he pushed the door open as quietly as he was able.
The apartment was dark when Candor entered it, only a tiny spark of light remained atop a small candle set upon an empty table. A tiny sliver of smoke rose from it. Sol had just extinguished it and entered his bedchambers for the night. Candor searched the room carefully in the dark, hoping the book might be somewhere in the outer chambers of the apartment. He was somewhat surprised to find that the high elf had not locked his door; but the fortress of Ilvas was well guarded and there are none save for the Black Adder who could have hoped to sneak around the fortress as Candor had done. He could not see any trace of the book in the outer rooms, however, so he carefully proceeded further into the apartment, his soft shoes making no sound. He knelt low to the ground and peered around the corner into the elf's bedroom. The elf was already asleep, though Candor was certain he had not been sleeping for long. The book was tossed carelessly onto a table next to his bed, its pages folding upon themselves as if he had simply tossed it aside. 'If you think it is such trash, wait until I have it again,' Candor thought angrily, 'then you will see its worth.'
For a long while Candor did nothing more than to listen carefully to the elf's breathing, waiting for his rapid breath to slow. He wanted to be sure that the elf was deep in slumber before he approached the book. After half of an hour had passed he rose and slipped in through the door, carefully making his way to the bedside. He kept his eyes upon the sleeper, but his mind was focussed upon the book. He took it up carefully and let its pages fall once more into their natural place. But as he lifted the book away a slender looking glass fell from atop the book and clinked against the wooden table. It was a slight sound, but it was enough to disturb Sol's deep repose. Candor darted from the room in an instant, quickly vanishing around the corner.
Sol fumbled in the dark for a moment and his hand knocked the end of the looking glass, knocking it from the table to shatter upon the floor. It took him a few moments to realize that the book was gone, but when he did he cried out in fear and terror, thinking the thief to still be within his chamber.
In an instant an alarm was raised and guards were summoned to the apartments. The other high elves were roused and the whole fortress of Ilvas was shaken to wakefulness. 'Somebody has stolen that foolish book!' Sol marveled, half in anger, half in amusement.
The Humilation of the High Elves
Six armed guards approached the apartment from both sides, trapping the Black Adder between them. Candor wrapped his dark cloak around himself and hid his limbs from their view. In one quick motion he cast a Smoker to his right, blinding the guards coming from that direction. Thick black smoke choked them and blinded them, and only the sound of anguished grunts and the clink of steel could be heard on the other side of the smoke veil. When the smoke cleared Candor was gone, and the other six guards lay dead upon the ground, one of them with Candor's knife still sunk deep in his eye socket.
By that time Cheru and Oblis, Ginat and Amro had left their rooms, each bearing a weapon.
Sol burst from his room in his sleeping robes, shouting, 'Someone stole the book!'
When he saw the wreckage of the six guards upon the ground he said, 'The gods! There must be something hidden within that text after all, if one would do all this for it. Lock the fortress! Let no one in or out until the thief is found!' he shouted. The remaining guards parted ways, each going a separate way to carry Sol's command.
It was not long before not only every soldier in Ilvas was wakened, but also every high elf. Lord Dalta himself, Thuruvis, Ghastin and even the Lady Dalia were now armed and armored, hunting carefully through the fortress for the thief. Now and again they would find a guard stabbed through the throat, or with a dagger cast through the eye slits of his helm.
But whoever it was that thus thwarted their efforts and had thus far escaped capture, they were still trapped in the fortress. That much they discerned from the bodies that they kept discovering. It was soon decreed that no man should travel the fortress alone. And, of course, after this command was given they began to find pairs of bodies slain upon the floors of Ilvas.
More soldiers were summoned from the outer city and soon the whole fortress was crawling with armed men. It was then that Candor decided that the ways of the Secret Knife would not avail him in Ilvas.
He pulled his cloak around him and made his way toward the front gate of the fortress, no longer skulking in the shadows. Many of the soldiers stepped back at the first sight of the black cloaked figure who now approached them. Nothing save his mouth and its grim expression could be seen in the torchlight, all else was covered by this cloak.
Oblis, angered that such a puny foe could be responsible for so much, stepped forward with his blade drawn. Cheru and Ginat stepped forward as well, coming to stand beside their foolhardy companion.
Candor walked steadily forward, however, showing no sign of fear at their approach. When he came within range Oblis struck at him with his blade. But Candor had already stepped aside, his foot striking the elf in the jaw, knocking him off of his feet. In the next instant he ran forward, trampling the elf beneath him. The others could not strike him without slaying Oblis also.
Candor leaped forward as if to pass them by, but as he sailed through the air he grasped Ginat's right arm tightly and used the elf's arm as a swing of sorts, tearing the elf warrior's bone out of place and slamming him to the ground in agony.
Cheru stared at his fallen companions in amazement as the small figure slipped past him, making his way toward the door as though the other elf did not exist.
Several other elf warriors and a number of guards approached him. He cast a dagger into the heart of one of the elves, cunningly took the spear from the arms of one of the guards and tripped the rest with its shaft. He then cast the spear into another group of soldiers, piercing one of the warriors through the breast.
'Does anyone have a bow?' Amro shouted, perceiving the incredible skill of their intruder. He approached Candor cautiously, but when he made his first blow he found that Candor had pinned the blade between two knives and then twisted the sword from his hand. He backed away while Ghastin approached, carefully keeping up his guard while he drew the attacker's attention away from his now unarmed brother.
Thuruvis made as if to approach, but Dalia held him back. 'Do not go near this man,' she said. 'I have seen his l
ike before.' Her face was as pale as Death.
As Ghastin circled the strange intruder he saw that the man fumbled with something beneath his cloak. When he looked closer he saw that there was some small pendant hanging from the man's neck from which a small trickle of smoke rose. Candor backed away from Ghastin slowly. A group of soldiers approached him from behind. He held a long knife in his left hand, ready to guard against Ghastin's attacks, but in his right hand he raised his Firesling, which only Sol recognized.
When the high elf beheld the weapon that, in the hand of the ancient Captain Proud, had slain his son, he shouted, 'Devil!' But in that instant a flash blinded everyone and a loud boom shook them to their knees. An iron ball flew from the end of the Firesling in a rage, piercing and slaying three rows of heavily armored warriors, cutting a line straight through the marching warriors.
The others were so shocked that they could do nothing to stop Candor as he flew through the hole in their defenses. Three balls he rolled against the wall as he raised the Firesling once more to face his enemies. Ghastin made as if to charge him, but Amro held him back. 'We are outmatched,' he whispered to his brother. 'Do not die for this man, and do not die for these elves.' Amro had allied with Dalta chiefly because of his disapproval of both Pelas and Agonas. But he was still, first and foremost, concerned with the safety of his family. He did not so much believe in Dalta's leadership as he believed that some balance was needed between the rival sons of Parganas.
Sol could barely contain his rage, however and charged forward with his own blade held high, ready to strike the strange intruder down. The Firesling rang out once more, and Sol was knocked straight backwards onto the ground, his left shoulder covered in blood. Candor did nothing to stop those who rushed to aid him. They would be easy targets, but he only had three more rounds to fire. He rolled three of his Thunderstones against the far wall where they rattled against the stones. The elves and the warriors watched him without understanding. He cast a Smoker at the assembled force, blinding them from his actions. He then took a fourth Thunderstone and lit it with fire from the smoking pendant upon his neck. The other Thunderstones would not need to be lit; when the fire from this last stone struck them they would all go together. He rolled the last Thunderstone into the wall with the others and vanished around the corner. There was a great blast and when he returned there was a gaping hole in the thick wall of the fortress of Ilvas. The smoke cleared just in time for the elves to watch the dark shape of the Black Adder vanish through the new passageway and disappear from Ilvas and from elvish memory forever. The elves, as any student of history is bound to have noticed, do not long remember their humiliations.
In his sack Candor could feel the weight of his Spell book once more. Now, at last, he could do what he had come to Bel Albor to accomplish. But the relief that he felt about once more possessing the Spell book only seemed to make way for the grim reality that his quest was not truly to recover the book at all, but rather to investigate the silence of the Star Seer.
His own friend Loyal had been one of the Black Adder who was meant to protect the Seer. The silence meant that more than likely the Black Adder had been slain somehow, and either the Star Seer was dead also, or had been discovered. This latter possibility was very nearly as much a danger to the Magic Tower of Lapulia as the discovery of the Spell book. In this latter part of his quest he knew that he could not afford to fail. Both for the sake of his country and for the sake of his ill-favored family, he must succeed.
A Guard
Nonix and Leai lay hidden beneath a thick growth of bushes that had grown to cover the hollow frame of a long dead maple tree. They were not alone in their hiding spot - not alone at all. Hundreds if not thousands of bugs and snails inhabited the dark, musty tree trunk. But thus far they had been passed over thrice by the searching god-hunters, who had been searching the forest for nearly two days. The survivors of Esluna were tired, hungry and filthy, but they made no sound and did not move from their secret place.
How far her future had strayed, Leai thought, from that which she had envisioned. She was wed to her beloved - the most noble soul she had ever known. She held him in her arms for but an hour, however, before fate brought her to this sorry state. She would have done better to have stayed by his side and tasted death at the hands of the god-hunters. She would be better of dead even now. This she fervently believed, but nonetheless her fear of pain drove her to escape death, though it seemed to offer her a release from the sorrow and heartache.
Nonix felt little better.
Stratix had represented the survival of his' entire line, and his death seemed to render Nonix entirely hopeless and humorless. He cared for Leai as if she were his own daughter - as if she were somehow a remnant of his own grandson. But for himself he did not see any reason to go on living. He would find her somewhere safe and secure, and then spend his blood in a mad struggle for revenge. He would die quickly, of course, the elves would see to that. There was nothing else for him to do. He would die and so also would his people.
Whatever safety Leai did find, it would mean that the memory of Esluna would be swallowed up by some other people - for who remembers the line of a mother?
Thus they both hid, hopeless and desiring death; but both struggling with all their might to stay alive. 'Our flesh mocks us,' Nonix thought to himself grimly, 'Reason desires death, but the body has its own reasons, and will not allow us the comforts of the grave.'
When some hours had passed without so much as the sound of hooves in the distance, and when the normal sounds of the forest returned, Nonix gently nudged Leai to wakefulness. 'I think it is safe,' he told her. 'I will go out first and take a look around.'
He slipped past her, struggling against the soreness of his old bones as he rose. He left the dark, damp hollow for but a moment, tasting the sweet fresh forest air. Almost as soon as he poked his head out, however, he heard the sound of men talking.
'Their camp is not far from here,' a young man said, 'It is but a day's ride north of Ilvas. Why don't we just ride out and finish them? Then this runaway will have no people to seek. If Lord Morarta is so worried that he will find them again, why not capture them and make an end of the whole sect?'
'Do you know nothing of the Utter North?' an older voice said, scornfully. 'If we are not torn to pieces by goblins we will be lost in the wilds thereof, where rivers freeze and trees break in the wind by reason of the cold. Winter rules those lands throughout the year, releasing its grip but a little during the summer. If the prisoner wishes to go there, I say let him - he and his like will come to a bad end. We only need to concern ourselves with what he does while he is here. You are old enough, at least, to remember the prophet Sargane, who raised an army against Sunlan. If they had marched to the ice in the North rather than marched with swords toward Sunlan Palce, they would not have been dealt with so harshly.'
Nonix ducked his head back into the hollow trunk and whispered, 'There are men outside, remain silent.' But as he made to return to his hiding place his old joints gave out and he tumbled atop Leai, who gasped in surprise as he struggled to avoid crashing down upon her. The commotion was enough to rouse the attention of the guards, who fell silent at once as they began their search of the surrounding woods.
The guards spoke no further until they had come to the place where they thought the sound had originated. Leai and Nonix had just begun to feel that they had not been discovered when a man's head appeared from outside, peering in at the two of them. The young man's face showed as much surprise and fear as the hiders, and he knocked his head against the roof of the tree trunk as he struggled to warn his companion.
'There's people-!' he began to shout, but Nonix had his sword through the man's neck before he finished his cry for help.
Nonix pushed Leai behind him and prepared his old bones to strike the other man. The other god-hunter, however, did not appear. Everything remained silent for a time, until they heard the sound of many footste
ps approaching.
Candor Proud hurried through the woods northeast of Ilvas, following but avoiding the Goblin Wall which stood north of the city as a buffer between the people and the brutes of the north woods. He had stopped his flight only for a few moments here and there to catch his breath or to take a drink from one of the cold streams of fresh water that littered the land. He had some rather frightening encounters with wolves during the night, but he lit a torch with his pendant and that was more than enough to drive the packs away from him. He only needed this for a short time, however, as a much greater torch soon arose in the sky, driving all the creatures of the dark into hiding. He had passed by a group of goblins as they cut away at a deer they had slain. He knew better than to disturb goblins as they hunted.
He kept moving at a good pace as he headed east toward the river. He had heard that there was a little used crossing somewhere to the north of Ilvas, but he was not sure how far along the river.
The people of Ilvas knew surprisingly little about the land to the north of them - even that which lay just a few leagues beyond the Goblin Wall. His steady progress was halted, however, when he heard the sound of men shouting.
'Come out of there you old madman!' they shouted angrily. 'Drop the sword and come out now or we shall burn you and your whore to dust where you hide!'
Two dead men lay outside a hollow tree trunk, their blood still trickling onto the forest floor. Somewhere within the enormous tree trunk he could hear the sound of a woman weeping. He was of a mind to pass them by, and to be glad that these warriors were occupied, but the voice that called out defiantly was not entirely unfamiliar to him.
'Get away from here, you murderers!' Nonix shouted from within their hiding place. 'Burn us if you are such cowards!' The girl seemed to share none of his defiant spirit. For all his courage in the face of death she wept all the more bitterly.
She longed for death, but this death was as meaningless as that of Stratix, her beloved's end. To die in this way seemed worse than dying at his side, and worse than surviving. For it made everything she had done, from hiding at the river to fleeing to Ilvas, to hiding in that wretched tree entirely useless and meaningless. She mourned not for her death, but for each moment she had lived since the fall of Esluna.
Having helped them before Candor, found himself in much the same plight. To see them die in this manner would render his former kindness - if indeed it could be called kindness - useless. 'Kindness IS useless,' he thought to himself. With a sigh he drew a knife from his belt and threw it into the back of the taunter's neck, pinning his throat to the tree where he gasped and gagged until Death took him. The other soldiers turned to face the Black Adder, their blades drawn and hatred in their eyes. Candor leaped from atop a log and in three quick motions released as many knives into the bellies and chest of three other soldiers, dropping them and their swords to the ground. One only remained, and when the man made as if to strike, Candor blocked his attack with one of his knives and then kicked the sword out of his hand. His own attack hit home in the next instant, and the survivors of Esluna were in danger no more.
Nonix emerged from his hiding place to see Candor pulling the last of his knives from the body of one of the soldiers. He wiped it clean on the god-hunter's clothes and then concealed it beneath his own dark cloak once again.
'I have never seen such knife work in all my days,' Nonix praised him as he stepped out of the tree trunk. 'Where did you learn such methods?'
Candor did not answer, but responded with his own question, 'What are you doing here, old man?'
Nonix brushed dirt and leaves from his clothing and answered, 'Trying to live.'
He reached into the tree trunk and spoke softly, 'It is alright, Leai.'
In a moment the young woman appeared from her hiding place, her clothing torn and dirtied. She brushed spiders from her hair and stood up beside her protector. 'We have been helped once again by this kind young man,' Nonix informed her, looking somberly at the bodies upon the ground.
'Thank you, my lord,' Leai said with a graceful curtsy despite the state of her attire. She looked at him fearfully despite Nonix' words. Any man who could kill as easily as he was someone to be feared, regardless of his kind gestures toward them.
'Ah,' Nonix said, 'You have lost your sword!'
'I had need of gold after all,' Candor lied. 'So I sold it to a traveler on the road.'
'And the knives?' They are not kitchen knives,' Nonix observed.
Candor tensed as he realized that Nonix was staring at him suspiciously. He may have helped them, but the old warrior was no fool.
'You said that you were going to Alwan, isn't that correct?' Nonix asked. 'How is it that we find you here as if to be our savior - this time not merely savior of our purse, but of our lives.'
Nonix quickly backed away from his queries, however, when he saw the tenseness in Candor's expression. It looked to the old man as if the youth was ready to cut both of their throats that very instant. Indeed, that is precisely the course of action Candor was at that moment considering. He had been too careless thus far. He did not want to see the girl come to ruin, and so he had forsaken the Magic Tower's principles and acted in sympathy with a foreigner - which was much the same as acting against the people of his own land, with whom he ought to sympathize. He could kill them both and carry on as though it had never happened, and he would have learned a valuable lesson from the whole ordeal. But, he could kill them at any time, he decided - he might as well leave them and forget about them.
But there were those eyes.
There was something about this young woman's dark brown eyes that seemed to render even a killer from Lapulia gentle and giving. He could not bring himself to remove the sparkle therefrom with the stroke of a blade. For a moment, as he stared at the young woman, he thought he might forsake everything; the Magic Tower, the Star Seers and Lapulia itself to become the defender of those bright round eyes. 'Poison,' he thought to himself.
'Pay my questions no heed,' Nonix said, shaking his head as if to drive them from his mind. 'You have been kind to us, and I have no right to pry into your own affairs. We had hoped to find peace in Ilvas, and a refuge from the god-hunters, but I see now that they are more welcome in the lands of Lord Dalta than are we. We must find somewhere else to dwell.'
'Where will you go?' Candor asked, fearful that they might carry the report of him to other lands.
'There is a camp,' Nonix said, 'belonging to a group of outcasts - enemies of the god-hunters. If the elves of Bel Albor are altogether allied with the Lord of Morarta, then perhaps we should go to their enemies.'
'Where is this camp?' Candor asked.
'It is a day's ride north of here, according to the men who lay slain at our feet,' Nonix answered.
'Do they speak truthfully?' Candor said, suspicious of the words of such men.
'Dead men do not lie,' Nonix jested. 'Besides, they did not know we were here when they spoke. So I believe their report.'
'My path lies to the north as well,' Candor said, looking at the gentle curve of Leai's chin. He really hoped that he would not have to kill them - a thought that disturbed him greatly. What was happening to him?
'Poison,' he thought again.
'We would be glad of your company, then,' Nonix said kindly as he gathered what little the two possessed, 'for as long as our paths remain one and the same.'
Candor said nothing, but gathered up his own belongings and began making his way north from the Goblin Wall.