His snub of Massard, a ranking officer, was so obvious that even the knight officer recognized it. He scowled at the young man's back.
After that, the crowd quickly dispersed. The guards returned to their posts, and the knights and squires fro other talons drifted back to their own quarters. Soon only the Sixth Talon, its officers, and Cobalt remained.
Derrick and the other squires held back and waited while Sara and Massard faced each other.
The knight forgot all else but his own anger and selfrighteousness. He slammed his hands into Sara's shoulders. "You piece of trash," he hissed. "What did you think you were doing following me?"
The force of his blow knocked Sara off-balance. She stepped back on the ankle the horax damaged and sucked in her breath as pain shot through her leg. She staggered and would have fallen if Cobalt hadn't put his foreleg out to catch her.
The dragon hissed in rage; his yellow eyes burned like twin suns.
"Cobalt, wait," Sara said softly. She rose to her full height and met Massard glare for glare. "We are even now. You hold the secret of my past. I hold the secret on your present."
His thick brows lowered. "Which is… ?" he rumbled.
"You are stealing and selling artifacts from the temple for your own profit. The Knights of the Skull—to which, I believe, General Abrena belongs—will not look favorably upon such activities."
His face twisted into a mask of hatred, and he raised his fist as if to hit her again. Only Cobalt's growl brought his hands back to his sides. "You can't prove it," he said sullenly.
Sara shrugged her shoulders. "I won't have to. If you turn me over to the knights, I will give the adjudicator names and places and descriptions of items, even witnesses, and let him find the evidence against you. And he will, you know." She leaned closer and added fiercely, "You should never have dumped me in the temple ruins. After horarxes, nothing you do can frighten me."
Massard actually blanched. "The ruins? I didn't know that. Red Erik just told me his men had found you and disposed of you."
Sara clicked her tongue and said, "Another name. Really, Massard. Forget secrets. They are too costly to pursue. A duel is the best choice for both of us."
The knight jerked his head in agreement. "Three days then, Sara Dunstan. They will be your last." He turned his back on them all and marched out of the camp.
Off to the nearest bar, Sara hoped.
The moment his black tunic disappeared, the five squires crowded around Sara, smiling and talking, their relief obvious on their faces.
"What was that all about?" Derrick asked.
"What happened to you?" Marika and Kelena said at the same time. "We've been so worried."
"What happened since I fainted last night?" Sara countered.
They all laughed.
"Last night! Sara, you've been sleeping a day and a half," Derrick informed her.
"The night watch brought you back from the city yesterday morning," Jacson said. "That Targonne fellow said some gully dwarf came running up to the gate jabbering about a woman who was pushed into the temple hole. They didn't believe him at first, until he described you. Then Targonne took some men and came to the rescue. He said they fished you out barely alive and told us to keep Massard away from you."
Saunder glanced back to where Massard had disappeared, his lean features dark with disapproval. "You should have seen his face when he saw them bring you in. He looked ready to kill."
"Does this have anything to do with your challenge?" Derrick asked.
"Yes." Sara's tone was firm. "The rest is no longer important."
Kelena slammed her fist on her sword hilt. "But why do you have to fight him? He's bigger and—"
Sara cut in, "And meaner and uglier. I know. I challenged him because I believe it is my duty to defend my honor and do what I think is best for those I serve."
"Like General Abrena?" Jacson said skeptically.
"She is quite capable of managing her own affairs. No, I mean you five. You have been given to me as my responsibilities, and I want to do what I feel is right for our future."
The squires looked startled and even rather pleased at her intensity.
The thing that baffled Sara the most was she meant every word of it. These five young men and women were training to become members of the organization she despised, but for this brief time, they had become important to her, and she wanted to give them her best. Maybe one day they would change their minds about the knighthood.
Jacson still sounded doubtful. "Does that include getting yourself killed?"
"I don't believe it will come to that. Massard is basically an overweening, drunken coward. A poor combination for any officer."
No one could argue that.
"So," Sara said, smiling at their serious faces, "what were you all arguing about earlier?"
Their worry for Sara immediately coalesced into a unanimous contempt for their officer.
"Massard wanted to wake you up to stand your watch," Kelena said in disgust. "Cobalt wouldn't let him near you, so he was yelling at us to get you up."
Sara's eyes flew wide and she groaned, "Oh, no! I didn't stand watch the other night. The officer of the guard will have me on charges."
"Uh, well, no, he won't," Derrick muttered. His blue eyes twinkled. "I followed you out of camp, and when I realized you were going after Massard, I reported for your watch. I told the guards you were detained by our talon leader. Which was only a slight distortion of the truth."
Sara thumped his back gratefully. It seemed the Sixth talon was going to look out for her, too. "It's all in your perspective," she said with a grin.
"My perspective tells me it's time to eat," said Cobalt, "If you're awake to stay, I will go hunt."
Sara scratched his muzzle lovingly and sent him off.
It was late afternoon, and a thick blanket of clouds hung over Neraka vale. A few snow flurries whisked around on the evening breeze, and twilight was closing in quickly.
Sara shivered. Despite a day and a half of sleep, she still felt weak and groggy. Her head ached, and her ankle protested every time she put weight on it. She was grateful General Abrena had given her three days. Often a challenge was accepted and the duel fought on the spot, Sara knew that, in spite of her bold words, she would've been an easy victim for Massard this day. In three days, she hoped she would be stronger and steadier on her feet.
She studied the dead fire ring, her lips pursed. What she really wanted was something hot and nourishing, and as soon as possible. "Are there any good places to eat in Neraka?"
"One," Saunder answered, giving his mustache a twist. "An inn in the outer city. Run by a woman."
"Let's go. I'm buying." Why not? Sara thought to herself. She had a few steel coins hidden away in her belongings. She thought she and the squires deserved an evening to celebrate.
Whoops of glee met her invitation. The five dashed off to get their cloaks.
Sara ducked into her tent, found a few coins and her cloak, and fished a small packet of herbs out of her bag. She sprinkled a spoonful of the herbs into a pot of water and let it sit on the edge of her brazier. By the time she returned, the infusion of feverfew and boneset would be ready to help treat her headache.
In a chattering group, Sara and the five squires trooped off to the tavern in the outer city for a hot meal, The tavern was crowded when they arrived, full of caravan merchants, travelers, and city folk, but a barmaid recognized Saunder's tall form in the doorway. She tweaked his mustache, smiled invitingly, and rearranged enough customers to clear a table big enough for the six of them.
At their request, she brought bowls of steaming stew, loaves of bread, butter, a plate of raisin cakes, and flagons of the tavern's hot spiced wine. It was a very quiet group that ate and ate until every bowl and plate was clean and everyone felt full to bursting.
Sara made it back to her tent on her own feet and drank her hot infusion of feverfew. Kelena and Marika helped her into her cot, wrapped her blankets ar
ound her, and added more coal to her brazier. By the time they left, Sara was already asleep.
A messenger from Knight Officer Targonne stood outside Sara's tent the next morning as the squires were rising for breakfast. They roused Sara apologetically and told her there was a messenger with a package for her. She rolled out of her cot, feeling sore and aching in every muscle and joint.
The messenger, a young squire, looked at her askance when she creaked out of her tent and identified herself.
Sara laughed inwardly. She guessed she looked dreadful, and here she had to greet this young man whom she could tell-was destined for the knighthood. Tall, bound with muscles, steely-eyed, and humorless, he would make a perfect Knight of Takhisis.
"Knight Warrior Conby," he said, a taint of doubt in his tone. "Knight Officer Targonne sent me to pass on his regards and to give you this sword with his compliments." He handed her a leather-wrapped bundle before he saluted briefly and hurried away.
Sara untied the strings holding the leather together and uncovered the sword that lay within.
"Wow," said Derrick, who peered over her shoulder.
Sara couldn't agree more. The sword was exquisitely crafted, elegantly simple, and well balanced. To her intense relief, the weapon was plain. There were no death lilies or skulls or other evil symbols adorning its surfaces. The steel blade had a diamond profile and a sharp point for thrusting through plate armor or bursting links of mail. The cross guard was copper gilt and polished to a sheen; the grip was made with black horn and ended in a fish-tail pommel. Sara was interested to see that the pommel had an empty space and four prongs in the butt, as if a stone or something had once sat there.
She gripped the sword in her right hand and hefted the blade. The weapon felt good, not too heavy, not too cumbersome. She wondered if it had originally been made for a woman. She switched the sword to her left hand and gave it a swing over her head.
"Come on," she called to the squires. "We have sword drills today."
Massard was nowhere around to gainsay her, so the talon went to the practice fields and spent the morning working on their fighting skills. Sara wrapped her ankle for support, then led the squires through their exercises and drills. When they finished that, she divided the talon into two teams and set up a mock battle. By noon, she was pleased not only with the new sword Targonne had sent her but with the squires as well.
After a quick meal, everyone went his separate way for the afternoon to fulfill his duties with other knights. Since Massard remained absent, Sara had no one to tell her what to do. Her morning's exertions had seriously tapped her slender reserves of strength, and she considered taking a nap. But there was something else she wanted to do, and she decided not to put it off any longer.
Strapping her new sword to her belt, she walked to the main gate and wandered into the streets of inner Neraka. Up one rough crowded street and down another, she wended her way past shops, taverns, and brothels, through the marketplace and along the few residential quarters. She looked in alleys and checked the trash dumps and looked behind every eating establishment. She knew Fewmet the gully dwarf had to be somewhere in the city, but she had no luck finding him.
Finally she had to ask a patrol of guards where the gully dwarves made their homes, and after they finished laughing and making rude suggestions, they pointed in the general direction of the city dump.
"Those gutter rats have a colony of some sort outside the walls near the dump. Look there, but take a mask with you," their leader said.
"Better yet, take an exterminator with you," advised one man before breaking into a fit of laughter.
Sara offered her thanks and left them shaking their heads at the foolishness of women. She walked to the Queen's Way leading out of the walled city and was about to turn toward the main gates when she changed her mind, and on the spur of a strange desire, she turned her footsteps to the center of the city and the ruins of the Temple of Darkness.
The slave gangs were there as usual, working under the whips of the draconian slave masters. A different set of talons was there that afternoon, and knights and squires alike sifted through the rubble for treasures and artifacts under the watchful eye of the gray-robed Nightlord.
It still amazed Sara that Massard had been able to slip anything out of the sight of the sharp-eyed Knight of the Skull.
She stood for a moment at the entrance to the temple compound and took a deep breath. Her heart pounded faster, and a chill stole over her that had nothing to do with the frost in the air. Steeling herself, she walked forward until she could see over the wall into the crater itself. The black opening lay down at the bottom, like the maw of some buried monster. Large ladders poked out of the hole now, and the lines of slaves climbed in and out like ants.
"Do you have some purpose here?" said a deep voice beside her.
Sara nearly leapt out of her skin. She whirled, her eyes huge, her hands held up defensively.
The Nightlord stared at her from under the hood of his robe. The expression on his lean face was disapproving, and his eyes glittered dangerously.
"No. No, I just had to look," she stammered. Irritated at herself, she pulled herself together and asked in a calmer voice, "Why don't you build steps down into the corridor. It would certainly make it easier to get out."
The knight remained motionless as his dark eyes bored into Sara. "Exactly," he finally grated.
Sara suddenly laughed. She had to break the cold clamp of fear around her heart. "I see what you mean. There are some things best left in the dark." She heard footsteps behind her, and she and the Nightlord turned to see General Abrena striding toward them.
The general wore her knight's uniform that day, with |her breastplate and greaves and a magnificent fur-lined cloak. On her armor, the skull emblem of her order gleamed like old bone in the pale afternoon light.
"I'm glad to see you did not lose your sense of humor down there," Mirielle said to Sara. She pushed her hair back with a restless gesture. She shifted on her feet, moving her body in a constant flow of small motions like a dancer who cannot stand still. She seemed to exude energy from every pore.
The Nightlord saluted the general and quietly withdrew. The two women were left alone.
Sara pulled her cloak tighter about her shoulders. Mirielle made her feel tired and very old this day. Wearily she turned away and let her gaze be drawn back down to the pit. "Did you know there are horaxes down there?" she asked quietly.
"Of course. They appeared last year shortly after we began the excavation. We decided to leave them alone. They do not bother the slaves during the day for they are only active at night, and they have proven to be a marvelous deterrent for most would-be thieves."
"But not murderers," said Sara dryly.
Mirielle chuckled. "You are not the first to be dumped down there in the middle of the night. But you are the first to be pulled out alive. You were lucky. The horaxes are much slower when it's cold."
Sara shuddered and pulled away from the wall. Together the two women began to walk slowly across the compound toward a group of officers who were waiting for General Abrena.
"There are other kinds of thieves," Sara said deliberately. "You may suggest to the Nightlord to keep a closer watch on those who sift the rubble."
Mirielle pinned her predator's gaze on the woman by her side. They were very similar in height, so the general's golden-brown eyes could look directly into Sara's cool gray ones. Her expression warmed with understanding. "I will tell him."
Sara made up her mind to ask something she had wondered about for days. "What do you plan to do with the ruin? Are you just going to leave it for the horaxes?"
The general shook her head, her short blond hair blowing around her face. "We will build a new temple to be ready when Takhisis returns."
Sara was so startled by Mirielle's words that she tripped over a stone and would have sprawled on her face if the general had not caught her arm in a powerful grip. Swiftly Sara forced her face into cal
m serenity while she found her balance and stood up straight. Was this woman serious? And if so, where did she get her information? Or was it just wishful thinking? Whatever it was, the mere thought of Queen Takhisis returning to Krynn was appalling.
"Takhisis will—" she was horrified by the high squeak in her voice and tried again. "Takhisis will return."
"We are planning on it, and when she does, we will be ready."
The conviction was strong in the general's voice, but Sara caught the words "we are planning…" So the knights do not know for sure, she thought, vaguely relieved.
Mirielle went on without a pause. "We have been here only three years, and already we have instituted a new training program, doubled the number of knights in this command, and gained control of the city. By the time our queen returns to us, we will once again be the most powerful force on Krynn." Her voice rang with pride, and her arms swept wide in a gesture that took in the whole world.
Sara was shaken by the woman's immense confidence. "What about the dragon, Malys? She is a force to contend with. She already holds the Goodlund Peninsula."
"True. But there are ways to deal even with the likes of her."
Sara's throat turned dry, and she had to force her words past a lump in her throat. "You have a grand ambition, General."
Mirielle corrected her. "That's 'Governor-General' now. The city elders saw fit to bestow the title on me."
They had reached the group of officers, and Sara felt six pairs of eyes regarding her intently. It was more scrutiny than she cared for when her guard was down and her mind was still shaken by Mirielle's revelation. She was terrified they would see through her fear to the reality of her deception. She saluted them in the manner of a proper junior officer and asked to be excused.
"Of course, Knight Warrior," the governor-general agreed. "I look forward to watching your duel in two days. Fight well."
Sara bowed and left as quickly as she could without actually running. At the gate of the compound, she broke into a jog and by the time she reached the main gate, she was running. She flashed a wave to the officer of the watch and flew down the road to the bare open fields that stretched to the feet of the distant mountains.
Legacy of Steel Page 15
