by Troy Denning
The Zhentarim ripped Lander's aba open, then looked directly at the symbol. In Common, he called to his men, "This is the Harper. Let's take them all to Yhekal."
When the other Zhentarim started to step forward from the sides of the pass, Ruha yelled, "Ride, now!"
Kadumi obeyed immediately, commanding his camel to rise. The widow began chanting in the deep, mystic tones that Lander recognized as a spellcasting.
The Zhentarim commander's eyes widened in alarm and he pointed at Ruha. "Kill-"
That was all the commander said before Lander struck his shoulder with the edge of an open hand. Without pausing an instant, the Harper went into a well-rehearsed attack. He grabbed the back of the Zhentarim's neck and smashed the opposite elbow into the commander's face. When the astonished invader reached to cover his shattered nose, Lander kneed him in the groin, then slapped his open palms against the man's ears. The Harper finished the attack by slipping an arm around the back of the Zhentarim's neck, grabbing the chin, and pulling hard. The invader's neck popped, and the man collapsed into a lifeless heap.
Realizing he was now a target for the crossbowmen, Lander dove forward. The twang of crossbow strings filled the air before he hit the sand, half-a-dozen quarrels whistled past where he had been standing, and his camel roared in pain and terror.
Continuing his dive in one fluid motion, Lander rolled back to his feet, drew his weapon, then turned toward his companions. Most of the Zhentarim were cocking crossbows again. One had drawn his saber and was rushing Ruha, who had picked up two fistfuls of sand and was letting it sift through her fingers. Kadumi drew his scimitar and turned his camel to defend Ruha.
"No, Kadumi!" Lander called, rushing after the youth. "Take the camels and go!"
The youth paused long enough to glance over his shoulder and frown, then urged his mount forward. As he approached the Zhentarim, he screamed his battle cry and raised his sword to strike.
The invader hit the ground and ducked the boy's wild slash. As the Zhentarim returned to his feet, he lashed out with his saber and cleanly lopped off one of the camel's rear legs at the knee. The beast fell immediately, spilling Kadumi three feet from the attacker.
The Harper hazarded a glance at the men still fighting with crossbows. They were just securing their bowstrings into place and recocking their weapons. Realizing that he still had a moment or two before they loaded their quarrels, Lander rushed up behind Kadumi's attacker and brought a vicious slash down on the Zhentarim's collarbone. Screaming, the man dropped his sword and stumbled forward, falling onto the young warrior. Lander finished the invader with a thrust through the spine and pulled the dead man off of the boy.
Pointing at the string of white camels, Lander yelled, "Take the mounts and go! I'll protect Ruha!"
Without pausing to see if the wide-eyed youth would obey this time, he stepped past Kadumi. The surviving Zhentarim had reloaded their crossbows and were raising them to fire at Ruha.
Dropping his sword, Lander launched himself at the mage. He struck her full in the body just as the twang of crossbow-strings filled the air. As he hit the ground, the Harper heard more than four quarrels hiss over his head. A heavy groan escaped the throat of Ruha's mount, then it lay motionless in the sand.
The Harper leapt back to his feet and retrieved his sword. To his relief, he saw that Kadumi had obeyed him and was leading the string of surviving camels down the other side of the ridge. Lander stepped back toward Ruha, expecting to hear a chorus of Zhentarim battle cries. Instead, however, all he heard were screams as the sandy walls of the small pass avalanched down on top of them.
A small hand seized his free arm. "Come!" Ruha urged. "We must hurry!"
Pulling him by the arm, she led the way as they half-stumbled, half-ran after Kadumi and the camels. The pair was thirty yards from the dune's base before Ruha stopped. Panting and sweating heavily in the terrible heat, Lander turned to look at the ambush site.
All that remained of the small pass was a slight, barely noticeable dip in the ridge of the dune. The sand had rolled forward from both sides, completely burying the ambushers. There was no sign of any of the invaders.
"Do you think any survived?" Lander asked, noticing that the widow still held his hand.
Ruha shook her head. "No. It is one thing to hide in the sand and another to be buried by it. If they are not dead already, they will soon suffocate."
Kadumi joined them, still leading the camels. Instead of thanking Lander for saving his life, as the Harper had expected, the youth studiously avoided meeting the older man's gaze. Instead, he turned to Ruha and spat at her feet.
"Witch!"
Eight
Ruha's mount suddenly slowed its jolting pace, jarring the widow out of the lethargic daze into which she had fallen. For the last five days, the three companions had been riding hard, hoping to overtake the Zhentarim. The effort had exhausted Ruha and, despite her best efforts to stay alert, she often felt as if her mind had left her body to fend for itself.
When Ruha looked up to see why her camel had halted, she saw Lander stopped twenty feet ahead. He was staring at the horizon, where a broad, black line of apparent nothingness separated the dun-colored ground from the cerulean sky. Ruha squinted at the dark line. When it did not disappear or become more distinct, she dismissed it as one of the desert's thousand and one visual illusions.
"What's he doing?" Lander demanded, pointing at a black fleck on horizon, where the blue sky met the black strip of illusion.
The speck was Kadumi. At his own insistence, the boy was riding ahead to scout. Since learning that his sister-in-law was a sorceress, the boy had said no more than a dozen words to her, and all of them had been disparaging. Ruha was not surprised by his reaction, for she suspected that he blamed her magic for the bad fortune that had brought the Zhentarim down upon his tribe. Most Bedine would have done the same.
Whatever the cause for Kadumi's detachment, it set Lander's nerves on edge. The Harper preferred to do his own scouting and did not like trusting his safety to someone else.
"Why's he dismounting?" Lander demanded.
Ruha squinted at the distant figure. "You can see that?"
"Of course," he responded gruffly. "You don't think I'd let him out of my sight!"
"But that far-and with only one eye?" Ruha immediately regretted her question, fearing that she would touch a sore nerve. "Please forgive me. I didn't mean-"
The Harper chuckled and raised a hand. "No offense taken," he said. "It's a badge of my own damn stupidity."
"How so?" Ruha asked, anxious to appease the curiosity she had felt ever since meeting the stranger.
"When I was a boy, my mother gave me a pet hawk that didn't want to be a pet. I had to keep it on a tether." He paused, unconsciously rubbing a finger along the edge of his patch.
"And?" Ruha prompted.
"One day it made its feelings known."
Ruha grimaced, imagining the raptor tearing at Lander's boyish face. "What did your father do?"
Lander smiled. "Let it go, of course."
"A Bedine would have killed it," Ruha said. "I think I would have, too."
"Why?" Lander asked, meeting her gaze with his one good eye. "You can't blame an animal for wanting to be free. Your people should realize that more than anybody."
"The Bedine would have been more concerned with vengeance than with what is right."
Instead of commenting on Ruha's reply, the Harper turned his attention back to Kadumi's distant form. "Why is he stopped? Is it the Zhentarim?"
The faint whistle of a high-pitched amarat horn wafted across the barrens. "I don't think it's the invaders. Kadumi's signaling us to come."
Urging his camel forward, Lander asked, "Why?"
"We're there," Ruha replied. "He dismounted to meet a sentry."
The Harper scanned the horizon with a scowl. "That's unfortunate."
"Why?"
"I'd rather Kadumi didn't meet this new tribe without us being there,"
Lander replied. "I don't trust him to keep your secret, and there's too much at stake here to let superstition get in the way."
Ruha glanced back to make sure everything was in order with the string of Kadumi's camels she was leading. "We can only hope that he remembers his duty to protect his brother's wife."
"Will he?"
Ruha shrugged. "I think so. He's seemed very bitter since the fight, but that's only natural, considering what he's been through in the past weeks. The blood runs hot in boys that age, and any Bedine would be upset to discover that his brother had married a witch. Still, I don't think he will let his emotions overcome his honor. He impresses me as a boy who listened closely to his father and knows what is expected of a man."
"And what happens if you're wrong?"
"I don't think the sheikh will kill me," she said, avoiding the Harper's gaze. "But he won't listen to you, either. You and I will have to leave."
Lander frowned. "The Zhentarim-"
Ruha lifted her hand to quiet his objection. "If it comes to that, nothing you say will change the sheikh's mind. In that case, I'll help you find another tribe. You can repay the favor by letting me ride with you to your land."
The Harper raised an eyebrow and looked her over from head to toe. "I don't think you'd like Sembia," he said. "Still, if you really want to go, I'll take you there."
"Sembia," Ruha said, smiling to herself. "That is a nice name for home." Aside from its name, she knew only one thing about Lander's home, but it was the only thing she needed to know. In Sembia, at least if the Harper was any example, no one would care that she was a sorceress.
After a moment of silence, Lander scanned the horizon with a furrowed brow. "If we're getting close to Colored Waters," he asked, "why do I see no sign of an oasis?"
"You will," Ruha replied. Though she had never been to Colored Waters, she had heard descriptions of it. The black strip on the horizon was no illusion. It was the great basin where the oasis sat.
As they rode, the sable strip took on the distinct appearance of the abyss marking the site of the final battle before the Scattering. The Bedine believed this was where, centuries before, the gods had destroyed the denizens from the Camp of the Dead. When Ruha was close enough to see the far edge, the hollow assumed the shape of a great, ebony bowl. It was ten miles long, eight miles wide, and over a thousand feet deep.
Except for a few star-shaped dunes of golden silt, its steep walls were covered entirely with a fine, sable-colored soot. In the center of the basin floor, an amber cone, said to be made from the ashes of the denizens, rose nearly as high as the lips of the great bowl.
Five lakes, each the crescent shape of a scimitar's blade, ringed the base of the cinder cone. Each lake was a different color: emerald-green, turquoise, silver as the hilt of a jambiya, sapphire blue, and red as a ruby. According to legend, the different colors resulted when the dried blood of the immortals was washed or blown into the water and dissolved.
Around each lake were clumped wild fig trees, tall golden grasses, and leafy green bushes. Over the entire floor of the basin, salt-brush and hardy lime-green qassis plants poked through the ebony ash, and the grayish yellow camel herds grazed in every part of the black bowl. The huge valley was as close to paradise as any place Ruha had ever seen.
"In the name of Mielikki," Lander gasped. "What hell has that boy led us to?"
Ruha ignored the Harper's question to ask one of her own. "Who is Mielikki?"
"You wouldn't worship her here," Lander answered, unable to rip his gaze away from the ancient caldera before him. "Mielikki is the goddess of the forest. She's my patron and protector, at least until I go down there. What is it?"
Amused by Lander's reaction, Ruha smiled. "Colored Waters, of course."
A few minutes later, they reached the edge of the basin. Ruha could feel heat rising in swells, and the air shimmered in liquid waves that made every distant line a serpent. Noting the caldera's shape and dark color, she could only guess that it acted like a giant funnel for collecting At'ar's radiance. It was a good thing there was plenty of water at the bottom, for any living being staying down there for even a few minutes would grow very thirsty.
Kadumi was waiting with a thin Bedine dressed in sooty black robes. As Ruha and Lander approached, the sentry came forward with a waterskin.
"Stop and drink, berrani." The sentry offered his skin to Lander, repeating a typical Bedine greeting. "You have had a long ride and must be thirsty. Are you hungry as well?"
Lander accepted the other waterskin. "Hungry, no," the Sembian said, taking a long gulp.
The sentry did not mind the rudeness. He grinned and turned to Kadumi. "At least he shows more courtesy than the Black Robe and his short guide."
Lander pulled the waterskin away from his mouth, spewing water all over his camel's neck.
"Black Robe?" he gasped.
Kadumi nodded. "The Zhentarim arrived this morning," he said. "We'll have to wait until he leaves to meet the sheikh."
"No!" Lander protested, thrusting the skin back at the sentry. "We must meet the sheikh before the Zhentarim poisons his thoughts. Perhaps if I had reached the Mtair Dhafir's sheikh earlier, they'd still be alive."
Kadumi grimaced, but turned to the sentry. "At which lake is your sheikh camped?"
The sentry pointed at the emerald pool. "Sheikh Sa'ar makes his camp at the green waters. I'll announce your arrival." The sentry lifted his amarat and blew three shrill notes, then lowered it again. "I'd take you into camp myself, but the Zhentarim are only five miles to the north. The sheikh has ordered the sentries to stay at their posts under all circumstances."
"Sheikh Sa'ar is a wise man," Kadumi responded, climbing onto his kneeling camel.
The first five hundred yards of descent were steep. The camels plunged down the slope, almost galloping to keep from tumbling head over heels, kicking up great billows of black ash that engulfed each rider in a tiny dust storm. With each jolting lunge, Ruha gritted her teeth and grasped her saddle more tightly, expecting to go sprawling through the ebony cinders in a whirlwind of waterskins, kuerabiches, and roaring camels.
A few moments later, the beasts slowed into a jolting canter. With the ash clouds billowing no higher than the camels' humps, the trio could carry on a quivering conversation.
"You didn't tell the guard about my magic, did you Kadumi?" Ruha asked.
"Perhaps I will tell the sheikh," the boy responded, avoiding the widow's gaze.
"A man must do what he thinks is right," Lander agreed.
The Harper's statement stunned Ruha. She began to wonder if she had misjudged Lander's character.
Before she could condemn him, the Harper continued, "Of course, a man's duty to his brother's wife counts for a lot."
The youth glowered at Ruha. "My brother would not have knowingly married a witch."
Lander nodded. "Probably not. Still, Ruha was his wife…" The Harper let the statement drift off without adding anything further, and they continued in silence.
A short time later, Kadumi asked, "What will you say to Sheikh Sa'ar, Harper?"
"I don't know," Lander responded, grasping his makeshift saddle with both hands. "What do you think I should say?"
"The Zhentarim will no doubt promise him many great gifts for becoming his ally," Kadumi began.
"And threaten him with swift destruction if he does not," Ruha added.
"I can promise neither."
"What about your Harpers?" Kadumi asked, motioning at the pin still hidden over Lander's heart. "What will they give Sa'ar for joining them?"
Lander shook his head. "They don't work that way," he said. "Even if I were in contact with them, they would promise him little. We prefer more subtle methods."
"Subtlety will not drive the Zhentarim from Anauroch," Ruha said. "That will require warriors."
"Bedine warriors," Lander replied. "Not Harper warriors. If the Bedine will not fight for their freedom, the Harpers have no interest in doing it for them.
"
"Then why did they send you here?" Kadumi demanded, precariously twisting about on his camel's back. "I lost three good mounts getting you here, and you brought nothing to offer Sa'ar?"
"I can offer him liberty," Lander replied.
His voice was so calm that Ruha knew the Harper was missing the point. "We do not know Sheikh Sa'ar," she said. "And he does not know us. The destruction of the Qahtan and the Mtair Dhafir mean nothing to him. You cannot expect him to turn the Black Robes away just because they destroyed two khowwans to which he had no ties."
They reached the bottom of the basin. As the terrain leveled, their camels slowed to a jolting walk.
"The Zhentarim are strong," Kadumi said, still taking care to avoid speaking directly with Ruha. "Sa'ar will want to ally with them."
"I thought the Bedine loved freedom," Lander countered, relaxing his grip on his saddle harness.
Ruha guided her camel closer to the Harper's. "They do, but the desert has always been here. No Bedine can conceive of the chains that will stop him from escaping into it."
Lander shook his head sadly. "The Zhentarim don't hold their slaves with chains-"
"They hold them with hostages, blackmail, fear, and worse," Ruha responded. "But Sa'ar will not know this. He will think only of what the Zhentarim can give him, not what they can take away."
"If we cannot promise gifts from the Harpers," Kadumi said, driving his mount to Lander's opposite side, "perhaps we should concentrate on what we could steal from the Zhentarim. With such a big army, they must have a lot of camels and a fortune in steel blades. Raiding is something Sa'ar will understand."
Kadumi's idea was the best they had come up with so far, but Ruha did not think it would work. "Why raid when you can simply ask? Will the Zhentarim not promise all these things in return for an alliance?"
"Being paid is not the same as taking," Kadumi countered hotly, finally addressing Ruha directly.
The widow was not listening. A sudden flash of insight had just occurred to her. "We can never promise more than the Zhentarim," she said. "So what we need to do is get rid of the Zhentarim agent before the sheikh makes an agreement."
