“I must admit to some curiosity, Tazi,” Naglatha admitted. “Could you explain something to me?”
“Perhaps,” was all that Tazi replied.
“I am a bit puzzled that you would travel alone all these miles to Thay for that,” she said and motioned to the sack in Tazi’s lap. “As I said before, the metal does possess some unusual properties, and I would love to study it a bit more if only there were time. Even still, what makes it so special to you?”
“I needed to replace something from a long time ago,” Tazi replied slowly.
“Then why not simply pay someone to fetch it for you? You and your family certainly have the funds and the connections to accomplish that.”
“It’s something I owed my father,” Tazi snapped and grew silent. She could see the wizard was intrigued by her clipped answers but appeared to let the matter drop.
Justikar ran silently through the woods.
Under cover of darkness, the gray dwarf had found it a simple enough task to slip past the few taverns and inns that were still open and make his way into the nearby woods. There, under the canopy of the trees, the duergar had moved like a part of the forest. His darkvision guided him as he leaped over thick tree roots and dodged low hanging obstacles. He could run great speeds in full armor carrying large loads, so, unarmed and wearing just a tunic and pants, he moved like lightning. He only stopped once, when a rock caught his attention.
A boulder must have tumbled down from a hill and fractured against the other stones nearby. One of the pieces was roughly the size of his hand and had a sharp enough edge to make it a useful hand axe. He stuffed it carefully in his leather belt and kept moving. Like all gray dwarves, Justikar could sense his depth when he was underground. But he and his family also had the facility to sense direction. He knew where he needed to go. The same trees that afforded him a certain amount of cover also deceived him as well—with a false sense of security. The gray dwarf could not hear the muffled beating of great wings in the distance, or that they were growing closer. While Justikar moved farther away from his former owner, something began to track him.
By the time the first rays of dawn colored the forest in its early light, he could see the outline of the Sunrise Mountains not far on the horizon. He was certain if he could reach them, he would be safe. Once in the rocks and tunnels that were like a second home to him, the duergar would be practically invisible. He was certain there would be no way for him to be taken. His only concern was crossing from the protective concealment of the woods across the open plain to the lower ridges of the mountains. Having spent almost his entire life underground, Justikar was loathe to admit that he suffered a horrible fear of open places. The only reason he had been able to stand his time in the open auction square was because he didn’t want to show any weakness to the foul humans around him. Now, faced with the vast, barren plain between him and the rocks, he hesitated. His upper lip curled into a snarl, and he made a break for it.
Running at top speed, he told himself, it wouldn’t take more than a few minutes to cross the gravel field. His heart pounded, not from the exertion, but from his fear. Oily sweat poured down his scalp into his stone black eyes and stung miserably. He wiped at his brow savagely and didn’t slow his pace once. With his eyes fixed firmly on the protection that he knew the mountains provided, Justikar failed to notice the fast-moving shadow that passed along the plain off to his left.
“Deep Duerra,” he panted, “let me reach your safety.” He never resorted to prayer before. His people believed the best ways to honor their gods were to simply continue on with their labors. But he was desperate now, and as soon as the words left his lips, Justikar realized just how frightened he was.
The lower ridges were tantalizingly close now. With only a few hundred feet to go, safety was at hand. But when the dwarf had left the shelter of the trees, he had also left himself visible and vulnerable. So focused on the mountains ahead, Justikar did not look back to the woods or to the skies.
Several hundred feet up, a huge griffon was circling. Its keen eyes, unable to penetrate past the thick bows of the forest trees, now had a clear view of its prey. The monster let loose with a fierce screech and dived toward its victim.
Justikar heard the horrible sound and turned his head wildly from side to side, so caught up in his fear that he didn’t look up until it was almost too late. But he did, and he saw the huge creature swooping down from the skies. In the gray light of pre-dawn, Justikar estimated the golden beast was almost eight feet long from head to tail and had a wingspan of almost thirty feet. It must be full grown. The dwarf couldn’t seem to gather his thoughts coherently, and the only course of action he could come up with was to keep running and try to reach the cover of the boulder fall nearby.
He almost made it.
With the rocks nearly in his reach, Justikar thought he was safe. But, as he approached a jumble of stones, some taller than he was, he could feel pulses of air on his back. The great wings of the creature beat strongly as it tried to slow its decent. The force of those appendages nearly bowled the duergar to the ground. As it was, the griffon managed to rake Justikar’s back with its talonlike forearms as it passed over. The dwarf hissed in pain as the razor sharp claws tore through his tunic and flesh. He arched his back in pain and partially whirled in time to see the griffon pull up before it attempted an additional attack. Justikar had reached a rough circle of rocks that afforded him only the most rudimentary of cover. But it did make it almost impossible for the griffon to continue any kind of air attack. It was going to have to face him on foot and that evened things up as far as the duergar was concerned.
Justikar watched as the creature began its landing ten feet from where he stood. The beast’s upper body resembled that of an eagle with its sharp beak and feathered forearms. From the withers toward the tail, however, the griffon’s body became that of a muscular, fur-covered lion with the exception of its great wings. It was the powerful rear legs that touched down first, but it held its eagle arms poised in the air. Justikar knew he had to keep clear of those slashing limbs, or he would be nothing more than a pile of ribbons in short order. Even as he thought this, his stone black eyes caught sight of a section of his tunic that still streamed from one of its claws, like some flag of defeat. Never, he thought angrily.
Without any formal plan, the duergar let loose with a bellow of rage and charged the griffon. Surprise was on his side, for the beast squawked at the foolhardy and unexpected attack. The griffon was shocked enough by the charge that it lost the first opportunity to slash at the dwarf with its forearms. The griffon touched ground completely, and Justikar saw his chance. He clasped his two hands together and swung straight for the griffon’s beak.
The creature turned its head enough to deflect the brunt of the blow, but the dwarf’s hammerfist strike did some damage. Justikar smiled grimly as he heard the satisfying crunch of the griffon’s beak as he made partial contact. The creature, momentarily distracted, swung its head, spattering the dwarf with its blood, which now poured freely from the partial break. The dwarf knew that if birds lost blood, they could go into shock quickly and even die if the flow wasn’t staunched almost straight away. He hoped the same held true for griffons, but he didn’t know. He had never tried to kill one before.
While the creature was temporarily blinded, Justikar remembered his earlier find. He reached into his belt and pulled out the natural hand axe. He moved in even closer to the screeching monster and swung his makeshift weapon at the griffon’s exposed neck. He felt the tool cut through feathers, but he didn’t think it sliced into the flesh very deeply. The griffon exploded in a mixture of fury and pain and reared back on its powerful hind legs, wings beating furiously. Justikar feared he had missed his one chance. But he refused to give up.
As soon as the griffon stood on all four of its feet again, the dwarf launched himself at it once more. He flung his arm in a wide arc, slashing at anything he could. Unsettling the griffon with the flurry of movem
ent near its eyes, the duergar used his feet and smashed the griffon’s front left talon with all his might, hoping again that its bird half was more vulnerable than the rest of its lionlike body. The griffon screeched again and swung its bloody head down in an aggressive attack. Justikar’s wide shoulders absorbed some of the force, but he still tumbled backward from the blow and landed hard on his back, knocking the wind out of him.
He could see, even though dazed, that the griffon focused its limited attention on its wounded limb. Justikar saw one last chance to make a run for the ridge one hundred feet away and the absolute cover he believed it offered him. He picked himself up and ran, pumping his arms as hard as he could. His heart pounded and every breath burned like fire down the length of his lungs, but he didn’t slow down. He was almost there when he saw a shadow growing on the ground all around him, and he felt the sting of air against his shredded back. He refused to turn, though.
With a tunnel opening in the mountain wall within sight and the escape it offered tantalizingly close, Justikar’s view was suddenly blocked as a huge pair of feathered wings surrounded him. They enfolded his body completely and as the golden limbs blotted out all sight, Justikar knew there was no escape.
“To business then,” Naglatha told Tazi as she sat down with her,” since you’ve made such a wise decision.”
Tazi nodded but said nothing.
“As you’ve already noticed,” Naglatha explained, acknowledging she was aware of Tazi’s gaze, “I am nearly ready to leave after traveling so long and so quickly. And I am not the only one,” she added.
“Really?” Tazi asked only because she felt Naglatha wanted her to, not because they were having any sort of an actual dialogue.
“There are many Red Wizards who are, even as we speak, making their way to the Thaymount. Do you know the area?” she asked Tazi.
“Aren’t they the chain of volcanic ridges that lie in the middle of High Thay, above the Second Escarpment? I understand that some of the smoldering peaks reach heights of seventeen thousand feet or more and sooty glaciers dot the tops of these,” she responded easily.
“You know of it then,” Naglatha replied, pleased with Tazi’s working knowledge of Thay’s geography.
“I obviously didn’t pay enough attention to your social mores, but I know where most of the main sites are,” Tazi explained. “I thought the area was strictly off-limits and trespassers were executed immediately?”
“You are correct about the security of the region,” Naglatha agreed, “but the area is accessible to certain invited Red Wizards and their guests, such as us. Right now, a nearly unprecedented event is under way.” Tazi regarded her with feigned interest, sensing that Naglatha needed the audience. “Our Zulkir of Necromancy, Szass Tam, has invited nearly every tharchion and zulkir to the Citadel. These Red Wizards are the power behind Thay,” she explained. It was obvious to Tazi that Naglatha was growing excited. “Do you know about the Citadel?” Naglatha questioned. Tazi shook her head from side to side.
“Well, I’ll get to that in a moment. This is only the second time I have ever been to this fortress. Zulkir Szass Tam controls it, and it is he who has called all of us to discuss the course of the country there.” Naglatha paused for a moment, and Tazi could see something dark cross her features.
“Szass Tam has directed the path of Thay from one of conquest to that of trade over the years. I’m sure this council is to reiterate that plan to all of us,” Naglatha said. She stood up, and Tazi watched as she paced the room. “We were once a proud country and were feared by our neighbors. We wrested control of this land through force from those who sought to subjugate us centuries ago. Now Szass Tam has us buying and selling goods like the greedy, grubby merchants one could find in any city anywhere. Even in a common one like yours,” she shot at Tazi.
“I take it you’re against this policy,” Tazi stated the obvious.
“ ‘Make trade instead of war,’ ” she laughed. “How preposterous! We are the laughing stock of Faerûn when we should be the most feared. I hate this game-playing,” Naglatha said as she continued to march animatedly around the room. “We should embrace our past and the honest ways … killing, war, and occupation. Instead we hawk magical wares like street vendors.”
“What can you do alone?” Tazi asked her.
Naglatha whirled to face Tazi. “Ah,” she replied with a slow smile, “but I’m not alone. There are several of us in positions of authority who want to change history and have Thay assume its rightful position in Faerûn. We have hesitated because Szass Tam is so very powerful. And, as Zulkir of Necromancy, many of us realize that if we should fail in our efforts, not even death would keep us from his wrath,” she answered ominously, and Tazi could see the woman was, despite all her plans and bravado, afraid of the zulkir.
“How can I be of any assistance to you?” Tazi asked. For the first time since Naglatha started her speech, Tazi was genuinely curious. “If he is this powerful, I can’t see what use I would be?”
Naglatha sat back down at the small table with Tazi. “What I want from you is really quite simple,” she told her. “As I mentioned before, we are all making our way to the Citadel. The Citadel is a unique structure, older than Thay and was here before the first humans came to this land,” she clarified. Tazi hated to admit it to herself, but Naglatha had intrigued her.
“It was carved into one of the higher peaks of the Thaymount. Because of certain drawings that have been discovered inside, our best guess is that the structure was probably constructed by ancient lizardfolk who once inhabited the land but have since vanished. We have lizardfolk that inhabit the Surmarsh now, but they are a simple lot and do not possess the skill to have carved such an amazing edifice,” Naglatha told her. “The structure is forbidden to the Thayan people and outsiders do not even know of its existence.
“Many years ago, a successful group ventured into the bowels of the Citadel and discovered a near-endless series of subterranean tunnels and caverns. The area came to be known as the Paths of the Doomed and there are supposed to be horrendous creatures that inhabit those tunnels. The party that returned also brought a book back with them that rumor has it mapped the area as well as contained many, important binding spells,” Naglatha added. “Szass Tam confiscated that book and has kept it ever since. I and several of my allies are aware of the book and the fact that Szass continues to add more spells to it. If I could get my hands on one or two of the most powerful magics in it, I know I could overpower the zulkir. In my years as The Black Flame I have cultivated so many agents throughout Faerûn, just waiting for this moment. Everything is in place.” Naglatha paused and Tazi saw that she was nearly glowing with rapture.
“With him gone,” she continued, “I would be able to sway the other powers back to the old ways, the right ways, and Thay could finally achieve its destiny.” Naglatha turned to regard Tazi with an unreadable expression. “And all you have to do,” she told her slave, “is steal them for me.”
Tazi was somewhat daunted by the demand even as she was tempted by the challenge. Her eyes widened, and she pulled her head back imperceptibly. She chose her next words carefully, seeing how animated Naglatha had become.
“I have had a few dealings with wizards and necromancers before,” Tazi explained. “I have somewhat of an idea of what they’re capable of doing. What I don’t understand is, given you and your powerful allies, why do you need me at all? Why not do it yourselves?”
The words had barely left her mouth when Naglatha waved her left hand, palm forward, at Tazi. The thief found herself knocked across the room by a bolt of unseen energy and slammed into the wall. Tazi slid down to the floor, momentarily stunned. Naglatha strode over to where she had landed, and Tazi could see her black eyes storming.
“It is not your place to question my decisions!” she shouted at the dazed Tazi. “Weren’t you listening? The Citadel is a fortress of sorcery. There are wards and traps everywhere, but they are the kind of traps designed to cat
ch wizards. We,” she explained, pointing to herself, “stand out like stars in the night there. But you, little Tazi,” she added more calmly as she dropped to her knees and leaned over her, “you will be nearly invisible.” She grabbed Tazi by the chin and forced her to make eye contact.
“It will take a thief of extraordinary ability to succeed,” she warned Tazi, fingers biting into her flesh, “and I know you are the one.” Before Naglatha could threaten her further, there was a short rap on the door.
“Come,” Naglatha ordered and released her grip on Tazi.
Tazi struggled to her feat as Milos Longreach entered his mistress’s chamber. He bowed deferentially and waited for permission to speak. Naglatha walked back to him and brushed at her clothes as though her sorcerous action had sullied her garments somehow.
“What is it?” she asked, giving the bodyguard leave to speak.
“Mistress,” Milos began, “we have returned with the duergar.” Tazi snapped completely back to attention at the mention of Justikar.
“Is he alive, or did you simply recover the body from Karst?” Naglatha asked.
“He lives for now,” Milos responded. “What is your wish?”
Before Naglatha could pronounce what Tazi was certain would be a death sentence on the dwarf, she spoke up. “Let him live,” she requested and braced herself for the wizard’s potentially furious response. She had to try, Tazi told herself. But Naglatha surprised her.
“Explain to me why I should,” she demanded. “Perhaps I’ll agree.”
Rubbing her sore neck with one hand, Tazi offered, “He escaped, didn’t he? That alone should show that he has some uses, not the least of which is resourcefulness.”
“But he was captured,” Naglatha countered.
The Crimson Gold Page 12
