Here, finally, they sensed the ultimate challenge of their flight. This dark figure had tried to kill Erix before, with implacable drive and consummate skill. Only the timely arrival of sunrise had driven it away. Now it came on again, employing the aid of this hideous pack. And this time the night was young.
The masked face looked upward, and Halloran imagined triumph and mockery on the unseen expression. Yet that sense of mockery only increased Hal's own determination.
"I'd rather face him than the dogs," he grunted, leading Erix steadily upward.
Cordell set Daggrande to his task immediately. The plan to counteract Kardann's treason would be swift and irrevocable. The dwarf took a picked unit of fifty loyal men, embarking in the longboats to the fifteen vessels bobbing in the deep natural harbor. They labored for some time, making many trips back and forth from shore.
Finally the captain-general sent for the assessor, asking Kardann to meet him in the nearly completed redoubt. Just past sunset, the moon rose in the east, shedding its bright, full light across the lagoon and the legion's camp, all visible from the mouth of the fort.
The commander waited, alone, as Kardann struggled up the steep hill. Work progressed on the other side of the compound, now nearing completion of the fourth and final wall. When the assessor reached him, Cordell politely waited for the man to catch his breath.
"A grand spectacle, is it not?" he asked rhetorically while Kardann panted and gasped. The carracks and caravels swung placidly in the moonlit lagoon. Campfires speckled the shore, and torches lined the jetty. Kardann did not notice the extra activity along the waterfront. Cordell would have been surprised if he had.
"Come, my friend, we must talk," he urged when Kardann was more comfortable. He led the assessor into the redoubt, where now they were surrounded by high earthen walls.
"There are some," Cordell began gently, "who would have me believe that you seek to turn my men against me. They claim you wish to mount an expedition homeward while our work here is still far from finished."
"My feelings are well known to the captain-general," replied Kardann stiffly.
"Surely as you witness the treasures brought from Ulatos, as you see how easily that city falls under our sway, you have reconsidered?"
The assessor's jaw trembled as he struggled to keep his voice under control. "I tell you, it's madness to think you can survive here! With your small group, brave and skilled as they are, you can only meet with disaster! Let me take word to Amn of the riches here. I can return with five, ten times this number! Then we can proceed safely about our business!"
Cordell sighed in apparently genuine sadness. "Haven't you seen that a few can do much when they work together?" I wonder how Daggrande fares? Idly he noted that the moon had climbed higher, exceptionally bright. The clear skies promised perfect illumination for the night's activity.
"My dear captain-general," Kardann wheezed, struggling to appear reasonable and firm at the same time, "I have been entrusted with safeguarding the interests of the good Council of Amn. It is my responsibility to see that the profits are handled in a reasonable fashion. Sir, I must demand that you provide me with ships, and the bulk of the treasure, for return to the coffers of its rightful owners!"
"You demand?" Cordell seemed depressed. "Dare I resist such a pronouncement of authority?"
"You mustn't lose heart," soothed Kardann, elated by Cordell's attitude. "You and some of your men can stay if you wish. Indeed, you can stay and garrison this fort!" Kardann was delighted. He had just had a tactical idea.
Daggrande should be done by now, Cordell decided.
"Your ships, then," Cordell said, beckoning Kardann out of the enclosing walls of the fort and back to the mouth of the redoubt, with its view over the placid lagoon.
"Choose your ships, Kardann," announced the general as they again came into view. "Choose the vessels to take you back to Amn!"
His voice was as hard as ice.
Kardann stared at the lagoon, gasping again. He struggled to speak, tried to force words from his throat. But an overwhelming sense of panic, of utter helplessness, threatened to break him entirely.
The ships still floated in the lagoon, easier to spot than ever, for each was marked by a crackling orange blaze. The moonlight illuminated a climbing plume of black smoke over each vessel. Daggrande had done his work weil. Decks, masts, hulls, cabins, everything combustible caught fire and burned. The carracks and caravels swiftly gave way to the oil-spread conflagration that ravaged each one of the vessels. The flames spread quickly to every timber of seasoned wood, burning each until the hulls fractured and water sizzled over the flames, extinguishing them as the ships slipped, one by one, to the bottom of the lagoon.
"Come, Kardann," urged Cordell as the assessor turned to regard him with horror-filled eyes. "Choose your ships."
Halloran saw the proud warrior as soon as he crested the top of the pyramid. The man regarded him curiously for several moments, Halloran returned his attention, looking at the broad cape of eagle feathers, the high, beaked helmet — and the long wooden bow that had saved their lives.
He helped Erix onto the summit, then pointed at the figure of the Ancient One that had started to climb below them. The man nodded and spoke.
Erix replied, then turned to Halloran. "He says he is Poshtli, an Eagle Knight from Nexal. He is here because of a vision, and we are part of his vision!"
Halloran looked again at the warrior, his curiosity turning to amazement. "Let's thank him after the fight's over," he said curtly, still watching the climbing figure.
"The strangers can be very rude," apologized Erix, speaking to Poshtli. "But he is a great warrior. We thank you for saving us, but do you know whom we fight against?"
The Eagle Warrior shrugged. "I know that I fight for the preservation of Nexal, and that is all I need to know. Still, those beasts are horrible, like monstrous coyotes with the power of Tezca in their bellies."
"They serve Zaltec," corrected Erix. "This black thing, below us here, this is an Ancient One walking the True World."
"Soon he will walk the world of death," grunted Poshtli. Impassive, he raised his maca and went to stand beside Halloran. The two awaited the Ancient One at the very edge of the top, not wanting to grant him any advantage.
The masked figure paused below them, well out of sword range. They heard a sound, a muffled word, and suddenly the Ancient One floated straight up into the air! Poshtli growled something and Halloran suppressed a shudder.
The figure floated free of the pyramid, slowly drifting upward. When it reached a height equal to Hal's, it stopped and hung motionless in the air. The body looked human, though it was wrapped in black silken garments and leather boots. The moonlight reflected brightly, but this shape before them seemed a void of darkness in the night.
Suddenly they heard another command, a soft magical word, and then they were shrouded in complete darkness. "Helm's curses!" Hal stumbled backward, away from the edge of the pyramid, knowing that the Ancient One had cast a spell.
He heard Poshtli shout a challenge, followed by a splintering crack. Halloran imagined the wooden maca meeting that black steel longsword, with only one possible result. He heard a thud and a grunt. The legionnaire finally broke from the area of darkness, a bloblike bubble of magical fog that prevented all light from entering or leaving.
A dark form exploded from the darkness, and Halloran barely had time to raise Helmstooth. The deflection saved his life as the black steel of the Ancient One's sword slashed through the sleeve of his shirt but missed his skin by a hairbreadth.
Hal backed away, keeping himself between the attacker and Erix. The bubble of darkness slowly dissipated, but he still could not see Poshtli. The warrior had been swept off the pyramid by the Ancient One's attack.
They clanged blades several times, and the dark figure moved with shocking quickness. Again Hal was forced to retreat just to maintain his guard, Erix moving nimbly ahead of him, making sure they didn't get corne
red.
Hal's blistered arm stung with each abrupt move that he made. Sweat ran into his eyes, and he frantically blinked it away, cursing the momentary blur in his vision. Still his foe assaulted him with that blinding, whirlwind speed.
Lunging desperately, Halloran began an attack that slowed the dark-swathed swordsman, even forced him to stumble back for several steps. But instantly the black figure recovered, and again Hal struggled to protect himself against a series of lightning blows.
The Ancient One made a dart to Hal's left, and the legionnaire lunged to block, cursing as his foot caught among the tangled brush on the pyramid.
Instantly as Hal fell, the attacker cut back to the right. The black steel did not come seeking the man, but instead darted after Erix. Hal twisted to his feet, fear energizing his reactions as the murderous figure closed in on the woman.
Once again his mind groped for a spell, any magic he could use to prevent disaster from striking Erixitl. He tried to think of the magic missile again, but the words would not come. Instead, he remembered the dream, falling asleep and then waking up to light. The command words to the light spell drifted through his mind impudently, useless and mocking. But it was all he had.
In desperation, he shouted the spell, not certain if his pronunciation was proper or if his hands were correctly positioned for the casting to work. If only he could delay the dark one for two seconds…
The cool wash of light surprised all of them. It emanated from Erixitl's feathertoken, a medium glow that clearly illuminated the top of the pyramid. Hal again leaped forward, but started in surprise as the Ancient One reeled away, clutching his hands to his mask and screaming an inhuman, high-pitched shriek as the light seemed to sear his eyes with pain.
The figure turned away from Erix, hissing its rage, just as Helmstooth darted toward its chest. The blow was strong and true, but Hal's blade jarred against a shirt of black chain mail, almost unnoticeable under the black silk shirt.
The Ancient One quickly recovered his balance and forced Hal backward again with savage, lightning strokes. The figure held its arm raised, blocking the bright light. He felt himself approaching the edge of the pyramid, struggling to turn away, but now the masked attacker sensed cold, cruel victory, and the attacks came with unrelenting force.
Halloran parried to the left and took a gash in his right arm. He slashed back to the right and cried out as the black steel bit into his blistered left flank. Then his foot felt only air behind him, and he knew he could retreat no farther.
Helmstooth wavered before him as he maintained a careful guard, but the Ancient One took his time about this attack. He raised his sword arm high, its tip pointed low, toward Halloran, as Hal desperately struggled for room to maneuver. The attacker's black-gauntleted hand moved slowly back and forth.
Then the swordsman's arm moved suddenly, but not to attack. Hal saw a great shadow momentarily block out the moonlight, and then powerful talons seized his sword arm and twisted. The harsh cry of an eagle rang in the Ancient One's ears.
Poshtli's beak slashed downward in a savage bite as his powerful wings pummeled the black head. The flying eagle tore at the Ancient One, his talons scratching at the scalp as the swordsman desperately tried to deflect the blows. Halloran darted to the side, getting his feet on solid ground, and attacked.
The bird suddenly pulled upward, flapping toward the night sky as the black steel blade swept toward it. A few feathers floated down, while one of the eagle's powerful talons remained clenched at the figure's hooded mask. With another beat of those powerful wings, the bird lifted away, and with him went the silken mask.
Halloran almost held his stroke, so shocked was he by the visage of the Ancient One. His face was twisted by hatred, but Hal saw the tall shock of white hair and the pale, almost luminous eyes, both contrasted by the ink-black skin. The slender physique and pointed ears left no doubt in his mind as to the nature of the creature.
His hand almost hesitated in his amazement and fear at this element of old-world evil, here flourishing in a new land. He almost delayed, but he did not.
Helmstooth darted like a hungry fang underneath the Ancient One's arm as the dark attacker struck upward at the eagle. The tip of the blade penetrated deep, avoiding the impervious steel of the chain mail and striking straight to the creature's heart.
The black-skinned face contorted into a leer of disbelieving horror. The wide, pale eyes bulged outward from the slender face, and the Ancient One's mouth worked soundlessly. Halloran swiftly withdrew his blade, holding it poised for another thrust.
But the enemy began to sag. A sound, like the dolorous sighing of a thousand condemned souls, groaned forth from his mouth, followed by a spray of dark blood. The luminous eyes fixed Halloran with a gaze of implacable hated that, as the body slumped, faded to the vacant stare of the dead. Poised on the edge of the pyramid, the body slipped over the lip and tumbled through the brush, toward the green earth below.
"The drow is dead," said Halloran curtly, watching the dark elf fall.
Captain-General Cordell gathered his Golden Legion in precise ranks. All the footmen were present, and most of the horse. A few patrolled the lands around Ulatos, claiming tribute from the surrounding villages.
The companies gathered beside the redoubt they now called Fort Helmsport. Ten thousand natives, mostly warriors but also many dignitaries and even some women and children, had gathered to witness this ceremony of their new rulers.
"Men of the legion!" Cordell's voice rang across the field and the lagoon. The blackened hulks of several ships were visible jutting from the water. The rest had sunk in deeper areas, and while they were all visible from the hilltop, most of them did not protrude above the surface.
"Our course is now determined! There will be no turning back, for one or for many. The legion will fight, it will succeed or fail, as a whole!
"And I tell you this, my brave men, my magnificent soldiers. The legion will succeed! Helm has provided us with righteousness! Our arms and steel provide us the strength! And our hearts give us the courage to prevail!
"We know many things about this great land of Maztica. We have an important, wealthy colony here, with a fine capital city. When our work is done, each and every one of you will receive rewards in lands and treasures.
"But first, our grandest task lies before us. We have seen some of the peoples of this land. But we have heard of another land, another people, a place whose richness pales the treasures we have already gained.
"That land is the true center of Maztica, the source of riches and gold beyond imagining. It is the land and the city: Nexal
"There, we know, are coffers of gold claimed from all the nations of Maztica. There are treasures worthy of our mightiest efforts, riches to make all the Sword Coast thirst for our good fortune.
"And I tell you this, my brave and loyal soldiers: Our task shall not be finished until the flag of the Golden Legion flies over Nexal, until that treasure, that city, is ours!"
Thunderous roars of approval rose from the men, frightening the natives, who did not understand what had happened. Then, by columns and by companies, the Golden Legion prepared to march.
The eagle settled to the top of the pyramid, moonlight shimmering across the bird's smooth feathers. The creature's form changed quickly, and Poshtli joined Halloran and Erix at the edge of the overgrown platform. Far below, at the base of the structure, the body of the Ancient One, the drow elf, lay twisted and broken.
Following the death of their master, the remaining hell hounds slinked toward the shelter of the jungle. Nevertheless, the three humans remained atop the pyramid for a little while, resting but alert.
"Your wounds must be tended," noted Erix. Halloran's arm was a mass of pain, and Poshtli had suffered a deep gash in his leg — his eagle's leg — when the drow struck upward at him. The cut had closed when the knight returned to his human form, but the leg remained very weak. "Let's get to the bottom, and I'll find something to wash and wrap th
em with."
Halloran wondered about Storm, whether or not the hounds had reached the loyal mare. He desperately hoped not, but he could see no sign of the horse across the moonlit clearing.
Working his way carefully down the steep side of the pyramid, Hal climbed alone. His arm was usable, so Erix helped Poshtli, whose leg wound made walking difficult. They descended slowly, without mishap. At the bottom, Hal whistled once and Storm galloped across the clearing. The mare had sought refuge in the shadowed edge of the clearing. Erix found some of the barrel-trunked plants that had provided them with water and used this liquid to cleanse their wounds.
Halloran forgot about the pain as his mind whirled with implications and implausibilities. "The drow… the Ancient Ones… Zaltec!"
He explained to Erix, and she translated for Poshtli, what he knew about the drow. They were subterranean elves of utmost evil, crafty in ways both arcane and mundane. Potent and numerous, they were known throughout the Forgotten Realms, but in most places they had been driven deep underground.
"And now they are working with a priesthood, one of unparalleled savagery, with an unquenchable thirst for blood. Why do they want all those hearts?"
Poshtli then told of the visions he had been shown. "The Sunstone showed me a woman of Maztica and a man from another world. If I could find them, find you, and bring you to Nexal, then perhaps might the doom of the city be averted.
"This knowledge of yours, the proof of this drow, may be the reason for my quest. Will you come with me to the city at the Heart of the True World?"
Halloran felt a sudden sense of weightlessness, realizing a kind of freedom he had never imagined. The Golden Legion was behind him forever, a part of his former life. The legion had turned on him, so he felt no trailing bonds of guilt. He lived in a new world, a world with untold wonders and unimagined secrets. And he, better than anyone else in that world, was in a position to see those wonders, learn those secrets.
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