Exile's Return: Conclave of Shadows: Book Three

by Raymond E. Feist

  Kaspar said, “Where’s—”

  Pug cut him off. “With us.”

  Tomas came to stand beside Pug. “I will accompany you, my old friend. I will not return to Elvandar until this business is settled.”

  “It may take a while.”

  With a bitter smile, Tomas said, “As long as it takes, Pug. As long as it takes.”

  Pug nodded once. Then he put his hand upon Tomas’s arm. “As long as it takes.”

  Pug, Tomas, Kaspar, and the Talnoy vanished.

  TWENTY-TWO

  ASSAULT

  Kaspar blinked.

  One minute they were standing in Elvandar, then suddenly they were back on Sorcerer’s Isle, and in an instant, Kaspar knew something was terribly wrong here, too. He could smell the smoke in the air—not the faint scent of the wood fires in the hearths or kitchens, but thick clouds of roiling smoke, as bitter and as blinding as it had been moments earlier in Elvandar. He turned and blinked back tears.

  An inferno raged in the villa.

  The bodies of students and warriors in black armor lay strewn about the landscape. Pug cursed, took one look at a fallen warrior and almost spat. “Black Slayers!”

  Tomas suddenly took to his heels, and Kaspar heard the sound of conflict. He slipped on the ring, touched the Talnoy lightly and shouted, “Follow me!’

  Pug shouted, “Miranda!” once, then vanished.

  Kaspar caught up with Tomas as the white-and-gold-clad warrior crashed into the rear of a group of Black Slayers who were being kept at bay by the desperate incantations of half-a-dozen students, who were frantically casting wards and offensive spells which quickly lost their effectiveness. Kaspar struck one Slayer as hard as he could from behind, cleaving it between neck and shoulder. The black-armored figure crumpled, and Kaspar was relieved to see that the things could die.

  He backed away toward the Talnoy and commanded, “Kill these Black Slayers!”

  The Talnoy leapt to work beside Tomas and between them, the Black Slayers were dispatched in less than a minute. Tomas looked around and shouted, “Are there more?”

  One of the students, her face streaked with tears, dirt, and blood said, “They’re everywhere.”

  Kaspar and Tomas turned and Kaspar shouted to the Talnoy, “Follow me!”

  The three of them ran until they found more Slayers rampaging through a library, throwing everything that would burn into a fire.

  Tomas let loose a primeval roar of anger and surged forward. Kaspar was about to order the Talnoy into the battle, but before he could give the order Tomas had decapitated one Slayer, cleaved another from armpit to groin, and was cutting down a third. The fourth and fifth died before Kaspar could decide what to do.

  Tomas looked around and started running toward the sound of more fighting. Kaspar instructed the Talnoy to follow Tomas and kill Black Slayers on sight. The Talnoy turned and sprinted after Tomas. Kaspar labored to keep up, but in seconds the other two were out of sight.

  Then rain started to fall.

  Kaspar realized that someone was summoning rain as the Spellweavers in Elvandar had. He stopped, trying to get his bearings amidst the smoke and confusion. He couldn’t see a thing in the library, so he went back into the courtyard.

  His lungs still hurt from all the smoke he had inhaled in Elvandar, so Kaspar stopped again to gather his wits. He wasn’t doing well with the smoke, and the coughing he endured brought up a bitter, acid taste in his throat. If I live through this, he thought, I hope they have a healer who can keep me from getting pneumonia.

  He coughed and spat, and hurried on.

  A long pasture rolled away from the villa and on its far side stood a wooded area. Kaspar saw students fleeing for the trees, hoping to hide in their shelter.

  A Black Slayer emerged from a doorway barely ten feet from Kaspar, and saw the fleeing students. He failed to look in Kaspar’s direction, so the former Duke of Olasko drew his sword and threw it with as much force as he could, for he knew he would never be able to overtake the black-armored warrior.

  The slayer was taken squarely in the back and Kaspar’s sword knocked him to his knees. Kaspar was behind the fallen warrior, picking up his sword, before the slayer had time to recover. With the precision of a master chef carving a roast, Kaspar inserted the point of his sword in a gap below the Slayer’s armpit, thrust, and turned his blade. The man inside cried out in very human pain, and Kaspar suddenly realized that these were not supernatural creatures, just fanatical men in gaudy black armor.

  The realization lifted his spirits. At least he was facing something he could kill.

  Another coughing-fit wracked Kaspar’s body and he was forced to take a moment to catch his breath. He listened for the sounds of struggle and caught the sound of a conflict that seemed close at hand.

  He hurried into a room in one of the buildings near the kitchen and found two dead Slayers, nearly cut in two. He had no idea if the Talnoy or Tomas had killed them, but considered the question academic.

  Kaspar heard a woman scream and followed the sound down a long hallway which connected the outbuilding to the main house. He saw a blue-robed figure vanish around a corner, and a few feet closer found the body of a woman.

  Kaspar ran to where she lay and knelt beside her. He had recognized her the moment he had seen her; it was Alysandra, lying still in a pool of her own blood. His stomach sank. For an instant he wondered why he was so upset; they had been lovers, but it had been a relationship of attraction, not love. She had been Pug’s agent and would have killed him without remorse if ordered to. Despite that, he still felt a pang of sorrow at seeing her corpse, her face a mask of surprise and confusion. He reached out, gently closed her eyes, and then stood up.

  Then he ran around the corner, after the man in blue.

  Kaspar stood drenched in his own perspiration, the result of having encountered a pair of Black Slayers who were obviously fleeing either Tomas or the Talnoy.

  Both had been severely wounded which had allowed Kaspar to despatch them swiftly, though it had still been a close thing. The smoke had seared his lungs and he could hardly breathe. He knew that men died from too much smoke in battle, and he now wondered if that might prove to be his mode of death.

  Coughing up blood, Kaspar looked at the two dead figures in black. The Slayers looked formidable and were good warriors, but Kaspar had seen better over the years. It was their eagerness to die serving their master that made them so dangerous. Of course, the fact that they had fled from an opponent proved they weren’t entirely without reason.

  The Talnoy came into view and Kaspar shouted, “Come here!” The creature responded to his voice, despite having no contact with him. Kaspar realized belatedly that he only needed to touch it once—when donning the ring—to place it under his command. That made sense; it would be impossible for a commander to race around a battlefield touching each and every Talnoy under his command.

  “Follow me,” Kaspar said, and they went in search of any more invaders.

  Kaspar tried to find his way though the villa’s long hall. Smoke had reduced visibility to a few feet, and he was almost blind. Gathering his wits, he said to the Talnoy, “If I fall, pick me up and carry me to safety.”

  In the haze ahead of him Kaspar saw an exit, and he hurried to it. Once outside he discovered that he was totally disoriented. He thought he’d find himself outside the villa, on the slope leading down to the meadow, but instead he looked out upon the central garden.

  The courtyard stood as an incongruous contrast to the charred buildings surrounding it. Somehow the flames hadn’t touched the greenery or the pools, but the smoke was still thick here.

  Kaspar stood still for a moment, deciding which way looked the most promising as a safe exit from the burning building. For a moment, he was free of the waves of heat which had blanketed him inside. He considered remaining in the center of the garden, dousing himself in one of the pools, and waiting for the fire to burn out, but then he felt a stab of panic
rising up inside him, and realized that the ring was starting to affect him. He was about to take it off when the wind changed and a billow of smoke swept toward him. As he considered which way to move, a figure emerged calmly from the cloud.

  For a moment, Kaspar thought it was Tomas, for the man was very tall, but as he drew closer, Kaspar could see he was not as broad-shouldered as Pug’s friend. The man’s hair was blond and fell loosely to his shoulders. His eyes blazed a vivid green, gleaming from tears caused by the smoke. He had a square, lean jaw, and looked to be no more than twenty-five years old. He wore a pale blue robe. Kaspar realized that he was the man who had vanished around the corner moments before he had found Alysandra’s body.

  When he saw Kaspar, he smiled in recognition. “Kaspar! What an unexpected surprise.”

  Kaspar paused, for other than in flight, he had never seen this man before.

  Then the man’s eyes fell on the Talnoy and he said, “Delightful! I have been looking everywhere for this thing.” He took a step toward it. “I’ll relieve you of him now.”

  Then Kaspar realized. “Varen!”

  The magician grinned. “Do you like the new me? That trollop who tried to kill me—Lady Rowena—reminded me of pleasures I had not indulged in for years.” His grin widened. “So, I thought a younger body would be the perfect thing to get me into a better mood. Dying can be so traumatic!” He motioned over his shoulder. “Funny thing, though, I ran into her a few minutes ago and I must say she looked quite a bit better than the last time I saw her hanging from my wall—well, it was your wall, strictly speaking; as it was your citadel. She looked very confused as to why I was killing her. I couldn’t decide if it was funnier to let her die without knowing or to tell her. Sad to say, by the time I’d decided, she was dead anyway.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it pleased me to see her die,” said the magician. “But that’s the problem with death, once they die, the fun stops! Torturing a corpse is hardly sport. There are spells that can bring people back, I know, but…well, the reanimated aren’t quite as receptive to pain as the living. You can make them do any number of amusing things, but suffering just seems beyond them.” Regarding Kaspar’s sword, he added, “It seems you’ve changed your alliances.”

  “It’s a long story,” said Kaspar.

  “Well, I’d love to pull up a chair and chat with you, for I’m sure it’s a very interesting tale, but time is pressing and there are some people nearby who wish me a great deal of harm, so I must be on my way. I must confess, though, I only had a slight inkling of what it was I was seeking—its aura is very alien—but as soon as I caught wind of it, I knew it would be something special; something fun, guaranteed to create chaos and generally annoy my foes. However, I’m a little disappointed; it just doesn’t look…big enough.”

  Kaspar dropped the point of his sword. “You may have some problems gaining control over it. You could use my help,” said Kaspar.

  Varen said, “You propose a bargain?” He grinned. “Well, it’s nice to see that you appreciate the difficulty of this situation. Don’t worry, I’ll manage to find a way to control the creature. After all, if you could discover the knack, it shouldn’t take me long. Now, my old host, it is time to say goodbye.”

  Suddenly, Kaspar realized Varen meant to kill him.

  The magician pulled back his hand and a strange light started to form around it. “Sorry, Kaspar, but if you’ve switched to the other side, I can’t leave you around to help them.” His eyes grew wide, and Kaspar saw that no matter what his appearance, Varen was still as mad as he had always been. “This is going to hurt, a great deal,” he said, smiling.

  Varen’s hand shot forward, and Kaspar fell away to the side; the magician’s fingers missed him by inches.

  “Kill him!” Kaspar shouted.

  Varen’s eyes widened. He looked down and saw a black blade protruding from the pit of his stomach. Blood began to gush out of his nose and mouth. Looking up at Kaspar, he managed to gasp, “I should have thought of that.” Then he collapsed.

  Kaspar backed away from Leso Varen’s corpse and stood up. He remembered what Hildy had told him about cockroaches. Varen looked dead, but for all Kaspar knew he might be waking up somewhere else in a new body at this very moment.

  Kaspar’s head swam, but he knew the ring’s impending madness was not the only problem he faced. He was likely to die from smoke inhalation if he didn’t find a way out soon.

  “Find the safest way out of here,” he ordered the Talnoy, and the creature turned at once and headed for a door billowing smoke. It might well be the safest way, Kaspar thought, but that didn’t mean that it was completely without peril.

  He followed the Talnoy into the smoke-filled hall, through another door, and saw with relief that he was on the other side of the house. He started to follow the creature, but a spasm of coughing doubled him over.

  Suddenly Kaspar couldn’t breathe. Within moments, he was on his knees and the Talnoy had disappeared from sight. He crawled forward and fell face-first onto what felt like damp soil, not stonework. He tried to get up but collapsed, and then spun away into darkness.

  Kaspar awoke and coughed. His lungs hurt a little, but surprisingly less than he would have thought, given how dreadful he had felt during the fires. Amafi was sitting in the corner. “Magnificence! You are awake.”

  “Thank you for telling me.”

  “I am surprised, that is all. The funny little man gave you something to drink last night and said you would be fine, but you were close to death when they brought you here.”

  Kaspar sat up and looked around. “Where are we?”

  “In one of the buildings untouched by the fire,” said Amafi. “Many of the students were killed, Magnificence, and many more wounded. Most of the buildings were severely damaged, but these people are amazing. As you might suspect, several of the magicians are using their arts to repair the place. It should be as good as new in a month, so I have been told.”

  Kaspar said, “Where are my clothes?”

  Amafi reached into a chest at the foot of Kaspar’s bed and handed a soft bundle to him, “Cleaned and ready, Magnificence.”

  Kaspar stood and found himself only a little lightheaded. “For how long was I asleep?”

  “Three days, Magnificence. The Talnoy picked you up and carried you to safety, otherwise the building would have fallen on you where you lay. The little man, Nakor, prepared a draft which had you breathing easily again in minutes, once we’d administered it.”

  “How did you manage to survive all the slaughter?” asked Kaspar as he sat up and pulled his boots on.

  “I hid when I could, fought when required, and had good fortune, Magnificence.”

  Kaspar stood. “Ah, brevity. Very good, Amafi.” He said, “How are Pug and his family?”

  “Well enough,” said Amafi, shaking his head with a sad expression. “But bereft. Many of those lost were very young. The black-armored invaders were indiscriminate; their mission was carnage.”

  “Did you see the blond magician who led them?” asked Kaspar, moving toward the door.

  “Yes.”

  “That was our old friend Leso Varen.”

  Amafi nodded. “So Pug said, Magnificence. He said he could sense who he was despite the change in appearance. Actually, Varen was looking very well until the Talnoy gutted him.”

  They left the room and Kaspar asked, “Where can I find Pug?”

  “I’ll show you, Magnificence.”

  Amafi led him outside and at once Kaspar saw the extent of the damage. Only a portion of one hall was left intact, but the garden had been miraculously spared. Already workers were repairing the damage, and Kaspar paused for a moment to marvel at them.

  A girl no more than fourteen years old stood next to a pile of cut lumber. Her hand was outstretched as she used her mind to move a timber to the top of two charred, but still sturdy, supports. When the beam was in place, two young men hammered iron nails into the wood and ca
lled down for her to send another up to them.

  At other locations more mundane approaches were being used, and the sound of hammers and saws filled the air.

  “The dead?” asked Kaspar.

  “They held the rites last night, Magnificence. The boy, Malikai, was one of those slain.”

  Kaspar said nothing, but he felt regret.

  They entered a building previously used to house farming equipment, from the look of the plow, harnesses, and other items stacked outside the door.

  Pug sat on a simple stool in the middle of the room; a blackened kitchen table serving as his desk, a stack of papers before him. He looked up. “Kaspar, you seem to have survived.”

  “Pug,” said the former duke. “I have you to thank for that.”

  “Nakor, actually,” said Pug as he stood up. “He had a potion in that bottomless bag of his which healed your lungs from the smoke damage. He used it many times on the first night.”

  Pug came and leaned against the table. “We found you at the feet of the Talnoy and found the blue-clad magician gutted in the garden.”

  “The Talnoy killed him and carried me to safety.”

  Pug said, “Varen?”

  Kaspar said, “It was Varen, and he’s dead again…if that means anything.” He looked at Pug and said, “You were right. He was after the Talnoy. It killed him.”

  Miranda entered the room and it was obvious that she had overhead the last exchange. Without preamble she said, “That thing has to be taken away from here. They didn’t know exactly where it was at the time of the attack, but they knew it had to be here or in Elvandar.”

  “Otherwise he wouldn’t have divided his forces,” said a voice from outside.