Krondor: The Betrayal

  Owyn said, ‘‘I’m not particularly eager for this confrontation.

  Some of your knowledge is beginning to manifest in my mind, and I think I can do some things now I couldn’t have yesterday, but I’m still uncertain.’’

  ‘‘Then follow my lead.’’

  Gorath returned with torches. ‘‘I found these bundled in an abandoned storage shed over there.’’ He also sported a Kingdom crossbow and quiver of bolts. ‘‘I also found these.’’ He tossed the crossbow to Locklear, who caught it and examined it.

  ‘‘It’s dirty and hasn’t been oiled in ten years,’’ said the Squire. ‘‘But nothing looks rusty.’’ He put the head of the bow to the ground and put his foot in the metal stirrup designed to hold the bow in place as it was cocked. Unlike the heavy crossbows that needed to be cranked, this light bow only needed to be drawn. ‘‘And I have little faith in this bow wire.’’

  But the old bow cocked with a loud click and Locklear loaded a bolt into the groove down its length. ‘‘Stand back. If this wire breaks, someone could get hurt.’’

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  He aimed at a nearby door and pulled the release. The bow shot the bolt with a satisfactory thud into the door.

  Locklear looked at the weapon with approval. ‘‘I guess they built this one to last.’’

  ‘‘Do you want to test it again?’’ asked James.

  ‘‘No,’’ said Locklear. ‘‘That might be pushing our luck. If I can get off at least one surprise shot, that might make a difference.’’

  James nodded.

  Pug looked at his small band, and said, ‘‘Let’s go.’’

  Pug paused, and said, ‘‘Wait.’’

  They were in a deep tunnel, barely wide enough they could move through without turning sideways. Gorath’s shoulders rubbed one wall or the other as he walked. They had found it behind a flight of stairs, down at the end of an ancient stone tunnel under the castle.

  ‘‘What is it?’’ asked James.

  ‘‘Here,’’ he said, pointing to a bare wall. ‘‘If I remember, this is where we should find a doorway down into the lower chamber.’’

  James pulled his dagger, Gorath did likewise, and the others stepped back as they attacked what looked at first like a blank wall of earth. Soon both man and moredhel were sweating, and those on either side of them were pulling back the earth they dislodged. Then James’s dagger point struck rock.

  He cleared away the dirt, and said, ‘‘I think this is masonry.’’

  Owyn said, ‘‘Move away,’’ and held the torch close to reveal old bricks.

  Gorath ignored the heat of the torch and leaned close. ‘‘This looks to be crumbling away.’’ He pushed hard on a brick, and it moved with a protesting grind. ‘‘Stand back,’’ he said. After they had moved down the tunnel a little way, Gorath put two hands against the bricks and pushed as hard as he could. With a low, grinding rumble, first one, then two, then a half dozen bricks fell away from him.

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  section of wall gave way. The tunnel filled with fine dust, which made Locklear and Owyn sneeze.

  Gorath didn’t hesitate. He grabbed the torch out of Owyn’s hand and stepped through the hole. Pug and the others followed. The chamber was vast, empty, and the dust of ages lay upon the floor, undisturbed for eons. Pug held his hand up and light sprang from it, illuminating the entire area.

  It was no natural cave. The ceiling had been carved, and in the walls were reliefs of dragons and creatures in armor who rode them. ‘‘Valheru!’’ whispered Gorath in awe. ‘‘This was once their place.’’

  Pug said, ‘‘Before we go any farther, I must prepare you for what we are going to encounter, not only the risk of facing The Six, but regarding other issues, as well. Located nearby is an artifact known as the Lifestone.

  ‘‘This artifact was crafted by the Valheru, as a weapon to be used against the gods during the Chaos Wars. It is far beyond my understanding, and I have been studying it as time permits for nearly nine years. But this I know: it was crafted to be a thing of great destruction. It was this item that was the goal of the false Murmandamus during the Great Uprising ten years ago.’’

  ‘‘False Murmandamus?’’ asked Gorath, obviously confused.

  ‘‘He was no true moredhel. He was a Pantathian Serpent Priest whose form was changed by dark magic to gull your people into wasting their lives in his cause. He captured their dying life essence so he could use that power as a key to activate the Lifestone. Had he reached his goal, I fear the results would have been the obliteration of all life on Midkemia.

  The devastation of Timirianya would seem a garden compared to the barren rock that this would have become.’’

  Gorath looked murderous. ‘‘So many dead because of the Pantathians!’’

  Owyn was also confused. ‘‘I don’t understand something.

  How could even a priest or magician of high art activate something that was a weapon against the gods? If the Valheru are gone, isn’t the secret of this Lifestone gone with them?’’

  ‘‘No,’’ said Pug. ‘‘The souls of the Valheru are bound within the stone, and it may be that tampering with it will free them.

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  Even if they lack bodies, the energy of their combined minds might be enough to use the Lifestone. We don’t know, but it’s a risk we cannot allow.’’

  ‘‘So Makala wants to destroy us?’’ asked Locklear.

  ‘‘He is not mad enough for that,’’ said Pug. ‘‘But he is blindly loyal to the Empire and thinks the Kingdom harbors a weapon of destruction that someday may be unleashed upon his nation. He is desperate to discover the secret of that weapon so he may either defend against it or build another for Tsuranuanni so they can treat with the Kingdom from a position of strength.’’

  ‘‘The fool!’’ spat Gorath. ‘‘What a petty mind he must have.’’

  ‘‘Perhaps petty in his view of the universe,’’ said Pug, ‘‘but powerful and gifted in magic. At my peak, he could not stand against me, but in my weakened state, I may be overmatched.

  This is why we must dispose of his six companions and then face him, Owyn and I, together.’’ He looked at Gorath and Owyn. ‘‘I place a tremendous trust in you two, a renegade moredhel chieftain from the Northlands and the youngest son of an eastern noble. Only the Royal Family and a few who were at the Battle of Sethanon, such as Locklear and James here, know the secret of the Lifestone.’’

  Gorath said, ‘‘I will die before I reveal this to anyone.’’

  Owyn could only nod.

  ‘‘Now, follow me.’’

  Pug led them down the long hallway, obviously once the surface entrance to a vast underground city. ‘‘The cities to the north, Sar-Sargoth and Sar-Isbandia, were built by the glamradhel in imitation of this one. This was once called the City of Drakin-Korin.’’

  ‘‘Even in our lore, we know that name,’’ said Gorath. ‘‘Even among the Valheru he was considered mad.’’

  ‘‘Yet it was he who convinced them to give their essences to the Lifestone.’’

  The tunnel was massive, and Owyn asked, ‘‘Why is this so big?’’

  Pug smiled. ‘‘Ever seen a small dragon?’’

  ‘‘No.’’

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  ‘‘This is a snug fit for a dragon, and the Valheru rode large ones.’’

  They came to a pair of massive doors, ancient wood as hard as iron from petrification. Hinges the size of a man’s body had frozen centuries before. There was enough room for them to walk between the doors, and inside a huge hall, they stopped.

  Suddenly, Gorath was moving, his sword coming from its scabbard and before Owyn or Pug could mouth a spell, two goblins lay dead in the midst of a vast room.

  Pug said, ‘‘This means we are close.’’

&
nbsp; ‘‘It also means Delekhan is near,’’ said Gorath.

  ‘‘Makala may be using him,’’ said Pug, ‘‘but I doubt he would reveal the final secret of the Lifestone to him. None of your moredhel witches could transport him down here. He would have to find a way from the surface.’’

  Gorath said, ‘‘I doubt this complex has only one entrance.’’

  Pug said, ‘‘True. Makala could transport by magic once he knew where to go, but the first time he came here, someone had to guide him.’’

  ‘‘Nago,’’ said Gorath. ‘‘He was in the South for nearly a year before this madness began. If we could get this Makala to speak, I would wager that it was Nago who showed your Tsurani how to gain entrance to this place.’’

  Pug said, ‘‘We can speculate on this later. However they met, they decided their purposes were enough in sympathy that they could cooperate in this endeavor.’’ Pug looked off into the gloom, as if trying to see something, and said, ‘‘I think, however, that Makala is using Delekhan as much as the false Murmandamus used your people, Gorath. He’s sending your people to die fighting my people, to keep the Prince’s army away from this place.’’

  They started walking again, and suddenly Pug said, ‘‘Wait!’’

  He moved forward, put his hand out, and commanded,

  ‘‘Owyn, feel this.’’

  Owyn came over next to Pug and put his hand out. He felt the sensation of energy below his palm, a tingling sensation that grew tangible if he pushed on it. ‘‘Is this the barrier?’’

  ‘‘Yes,’’ said Pug. ‘‘This is what we struck when I tried to 350

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  help you transport us into the chamber on the next level down.’’

  Pug pushed a bit and with his hands moved first right, then left. After a moment he was satisfied. ‘‘This is a sphere, and we must walk around the circumference, until we find those who erected it.’’

  He moved all the way to the left until they encountered a wall, then back to the right. At the far right extreme, Gorath spied a door a short way back. ‘‘Let’s try that,’’ suggested the dark elf.

  They entered a tunnel and moved deeper into the earth.

  The magic in the room was so powerful even James and Locklear sensed it, giving them a crawling sensation on their skin. ‘‘What is this place?’’ asked James.

  ‘‘A treasure trove,’’ said Pug. ‘‘One of many. Touch nothing here. Some of these items are magic, and I can’t judge the consequences of their inadvertent activation.’’

  Owyn said, ‘‘What is that?’’ He pointed to a large hunting horn with a strange runic symbol on it.

  Gorath said, ‘‘The inscription is familiar to me. It is that after which we fashioned our own script. It is Valheru.’’

  ‘‘What does it say?’’ asked Owyn.

  ‘‘It is the glyph of the Tyrant of Wind Valley.’’

  Pug tried to remember which of the Valheru that was, and knew Tomas could tell him. ‘‘This is a place of plunder,’’ said Gorath. ‘‘Prizes and trophies were gathered here.’’ He looked down at the dust-covered booty, gold, gems, and many items, both commonplace and alien.

  Owyn reached out and held his hand above the hunting horn. ‘‘Pug, please, examine this.’’

  Pug gently touched the horn and picked it up. ‘‘It exudes magic,’’ he said softly.

  Then Pug remembered, or the object had the ability to place a memory within him. He dropped the horn as if it had suddenly grown hot. ‘‘Algon-Kokoon! Slain by Ashen-Shugar.’’

  Softly he said, ‘‘Tomas would indeed remember this. It is a hunting horn, which . . .’’ His eyes widened. He took the horn and put the golden cord which held it around Owyn’s shoul-351

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  der, letting it hang at the young magician’s side. ‘‘If it still works, it could tip the balance.’’

  Pug glanced around. ‘‘There are so many things here in Sethanon that I have not had time to study. There is so much I don’t know.’’

  Owyn said, ‘‘But we know that Makala lies somewhere over there, and we must stop him.’’

  Pug nodded and turned to leave the ancient treasures behind, and they moved down another corridor.

  A small chamber glowed with light in the distance, and Gorath extinguished the torch. To conserve energy Pug had stopped using his mystic light. He felt full knowledge was returned to him, and Owyn’s abilities had grown far beyond what the young boy who had met Locklear months before had possessed, but they knew they faced seven Great Ones from Kelewan—Makala and his six companions.

  They crept down the hall and came to a chamber. Gorath peeked around the corner and pulled his head back. He held up three fingers and pointed to Pug and Owyn. They nodded in understanding. Two magicians rested in the next room, with either a servant or guard. Pug had agonized over how to approach his former brethren. He was almost certain Makala had not told them the full story; even if he had, it was not the truth, but rather Makala’s warped vision.

  Still, Pug had finally decided, they had lent their talents to events which had resulted in the deaths of thousands—human, moredhel, troll, and goblin—and that could not go unpunished. Pug nodded, pointed to himself, and motioned to his left, then pointed to Owyn and motioned to the right. He pointed at Locklear’s crossbow and held up three fingers, indicating the third person.

  He held up his hand a moment, and when everyone nodded, he made a chopping motion and entered the room.

  Owyn and Pug were already incanting their spells when the three figures looked up. Two were wearing black robes, and the third was a moredhel warrior.

  Locklear raised his crossbow, took a breath, let it out, held it, aimed the bow as he had been taught, then pulled the release.

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  The bolt flew through the air and took the moredhel in the chest, propelling him across the room. He hit the wall with a sickening sound, and slid down, leaving a crimson smear on the brickwork.

  The two Tsurani were immobile, unused to danger and having to cope with surprise. The two spells of immobilization went off within a second of each other, and the two figures moaned in pain as they were engulfed. Gorath had his sword ready and stepped forward to kill both magicians.

  It was over in moments.

  Pug looked around, held up his hand for silence, and listened for any alarm.

  It remained silent for a minute.

  He said, ‘‘That leaves four, plus Makala.’’

  James said, ‘‘This looks like a bedchamber.’’ He pointed to two pallets on the floor. ‘‘Here they rest, while their brothers maintain the shell around the Lifestone.’’

  Pug closed his eyes and extended his senses. In the distance he detected a familiar presence. He reached out to it, but was prevented from making contact. ‘‘Not yet,’’ he whispered.

  ‘‘Not yet what?’’ asked James, his face starting to show the fatigue of the past few weeks.

  Pug looked at him, then at Locklear, and said, ‘‘How have you been caring for yourself since you left Northwarden?’’

  ‘‘Arutha’s healing priest gave us powder to drink at night, and we awake refreshed after a few hours.’’

  Pug said, ‘‘Those work for the short term, but when this is done, you’ll need to rest for several days. Be wary. Your senses are dulled, and you are not as quick as you think.’’

  Locklear looked at James, and said, ‘‘If he’s telling us we’re tired, that’s not exactly a surprise.’’

  James grinned and patted his friend on the cheek, roughly.

  ‘‘He’s telling us not to get overconfident, Locky.’’

  ‘‘Jimmy the Hand, overconfident? Heaven forfend,’’ replied his friend, dryly.

  ‘‘Come,’’ said Pug. ‘‘A spell as powerful as this barrier is no trivial thing. It is much like the barrier erected around me by the Timirianyan god.’’

  They moved down the corri
dor and entered a large chamber.

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  Figures moved in the distance, and Pug motioned for his companions to spread out.

  Suddenly light shone in the cavern.

  Two robed figures advanced, and, across the room, a voice spoke. ‘‘We were told to expect you, Milamber.’’

  ‘‘Do not oppose me, Zatapek. Makala has lied to you and you are hip deep in the blood of innocents. Stop now before you drown in it.’’

  ‘‘Milamber, Makala is not the only one in our Assembly who believes you to be a false Great One who is more interested in his birth nation than the Good of the Empire. Else why have you hidden this mighty weapon from us?’’

  The second magician behind Zatapek moved to the side, lowering a staff which he pointed at Pug as if it were a weapon. From behind Pug the sound of a crossbow being fired sounded, and the second magician was spun around, a shower of blood fountaining from his shoulder, as his arm was half-torn from his body. He screamed in agony, and Zatapek reacted.

  The Tsurani Great One raised both hands, fingers pointing forward, and a cascade of blue energy lashed out, striking Pug hard. He felt every muscle try to contract at the same time, the effect of which was his going rigid and toppling over, striking the stone floor hard as he writhed in silent agony.

  Owyn reacted. A large globe of fire erupted from his hand and sped toward Zatapek. But the Tsurani magician was ready, and with a spin of his left hand, he seemed to fashion a shield of energy upon which the fire splashed and flowed to the floor, winking out as it struck the stones.

  The only benefit was that he lost control of the magic he had turned on Pug, and the energy vanished, leaving Pug trembling on the stones, still suffering from the pain of Zatapek’s magic.

  Owyn could not think of what to do next, so he closed his eyes and let his reactions take over. He put out his hand and with a single word sent a column of compressed air hurtling at the Tsurani Great One. For an instant Zatapek couldn’t see anything and was preparing for another energy attack, then, when he realized what was occurring, he reacted too late. The 354