The Emperor shook his head and in surprisingly strong tones said, “No, honored lord, you are wrong. In Tsuranuanni I rule.” He stood, surveying those around him. “Until these matters Milamber brought to our attention are resolved and the Empire is truly safe, or the threat has been shown to be false, the High Council is recessed. There will be no new Warlord until I have commanded an election within the council. Until I decree otherwise, I am the law.”
Hochopepa said, “Majesty, the Assembly?”
“As before, but be warned, Great One, see to your brothers. If another Black Robe is ever discovered involved in a plot against my house, the status of Great Ones outside the law will end. Even should I be forced to pit all the armies of the Empire against your magic might, even to the utter ruination of the Empire, I will not allow any to challenge the supremacy of the Emperor again. Is that understood?”
Hochopepa said, “It will be done, Imperial Majesty. Elgahar’s renunciation and his brother’s and the Warlord’s acts will give others in the Assembly pause to think. I shall bring the matter before the membership.”
The Emperor said to Pug, “Great One, I cannot instruct the Assembly to reinstate you, nor am I entirely comfortable having you around. But until this matter is resolved, you are free to come and go as long as you need. When you again depart for your homeworld, inform us of your findings. We shall be willing to accommodate you somewhat in preventing the destruction of your world, if we may. Now”—he started for the door—“I must return to my palace. I have an Empire to rebuild.”
Pug watched as the others left. Kamatsu came up to him and said, “Great One, it seems to have ended well for a time.”
“For a time, old friend. Seek to aid the Light of Heaven, for his life may be a short one when tonight’s decrees are made public tomorrow.”
The Lord of Shinzawai bowed before Pug. “Your will, Great One.”
To Hochopepa, Pug said, “Let’s fetch Dominic and Meecham from where they rest and go to the Assembly, Hocho. We have work to do.”
“In a moment, for I have a question of Elgahar.” The stout magician faced the former Warlord’s pet. “Why the sudden reversal of position? I had always counted you your brother’s tool.”
The slender magician replied, “What Milamber carried warning of, upon his homeworld, gave me pause to think. I spent time weighing all possibilities, and when I suggested the obvious answer to Milamber, he concurred. It was a risk too grave to ignore. Compared to this, all other matters are inconsequential.”
Hochopepa turned to face Pug. “I do not understand. What does he speak of?”
Pug sagged in fatigue and something more, a deep-hidden terror coming to the fore. “I hesitate even to speak of it.” He looked at those about him. “Elgahar concluded something I suspected but was afraid to admit, even to myself.”
For a moment he was silent, and those in the room seemed to hold their breath, then he said, “The Enemy has returned.”
—
Pug pushed back the leather-covered volume before him and said, “Another dead end.” He passed a hand over his face, closing tired eyes. He had so much to deal with and a sense of fleeing time. The discovery of his ability as a Lesser Path magician he kept to himself. There was a side to his nature he had never suspected, and he wished more private conditions under which to explore these revelations.
Hochopepa and Elgahar looked up from where they sat reading. Elgahar had worked as hard as any, demonstrating some wish to make amends. “These records are in a shambles, Milamber,” he commented.
Pug agreed. “I told Hocho two years ago that the Assembly had become lax in its arrogance. This confusion is but one example.” Pug adjusted his black robe. When his reasons for returning were made known, he had, on a motion by his old friends, seconded by Elgahar, been reinstated to full membership without hesitation. Of the members in attendance, only a few abstained and none voted in opposition. Each had stood upon the Tower of Testing and had seen the rage and might of the Enemy.
Shimone, one of Pug’s oldest friends in the Assembly and his former instructor, entered with Dominic. Since the encounter with the Warlord’s Inquisitor the night before, the priest had shown remarkable recuperative powers. He had used his magic healing arts on Meecham and Pug, but something in the way they worked prevented him from using them upon himself. However, he had also possessed the knowledge to instruct the magicians at the Assembly in concocting a poultice that prevented festering in the cuts and burns he had endured.
“Milamber, this priest friend of yours is a wonder. He has some marvelous means of cataloging our works here.”
Dominic said, “I have only shared what we have learned at Sarth. There is a great deal of confusion here, but it is not as bad as it appears on casual inspection.”
Hochopepa stretched. “What has me concerned is that there is little here we don’t already know. It is as if the vision we shared upon the tower is the earliest recollection of the Enemy, and no other has been recorded.”
“That may be true,” said Pug. “Remember that most of the truly great magicians perished at the golden bridge, leaving only apprentices and Lesser Magicians behind. It may have been years before any attempt to keep records commenced.”
Meecham entered carrying a huge bundle of ancient tomes heavily bound in treated skins. Pug indicated a spot on the floor nearby and Meecham put them down. Pug opened the bundle and handed copies of the works around. Elgahar carefully opened one, the book’s binding creaking as he did. “Gods of Tsuranuanni, these works are old.”
“Among the oldest in the Assembly,” Dominic said. “It took Meecham and myself an hour just to locate them and another to dig them out.”
Shimone said, “This is almost another dialect, it’s so ancient. There are verb usages here, inflections I’ve never heard of.”
Hocho said, “Milamber, listen to this: ‘And when the bridge vanished, still did Avarie insist on council.’ ”
Elgahar said, “The golden bridge?”
Pug and the others stopped what they were doing and listened as Hochopepa continued reading. “ ‘Of the Alstwanabi, those remaining were but thirteen, numbering Avarie, Marlee, Caron’—the list goes on—‘and little comfort among them, but Marlee spoke her words of power and calmed their fears. We are upon this world made for us by Chakakan’—could that be an ancient form of ‘Chochocan’?—‘and we shall endure. Those who watched say we are safe from the Darkness.’ The Darkness? Can it be?”
Pug reread the passage. “This is the same name used by Rogen after his vision. It is too far a stretch to be called coincidence. There is our proof: the Enemy is somehow involved in the attempts upon Prince Arutha.”
Dominic said, “There is something else there as well.” Elgahar agreed, “Yes, who are ‘those who watched’?”
—
Pug pushed away the book, the toll of the last day bringing on sleep unbidden. Of all those who had searched through the day with him, only Dominic remained. The Ishapian monk seemed able to disregard fatigue at will.
Pug closed his eyes, intent on resting them for a short while only. His mind had been occupied with many things, and many things he had put aside. Now images flickered past, but none seemed to abide.
Soon Pug was asleep, and while he slept, he dreamed.
He stood upon the roof of the Assembly again. He wore the grey of a trainee, as he was shown the tower steps by Shimone. He knew he must mount, again to face the storm, again to pass that test which would gain him the rank of Great One.
He mounted and climbed in his dream, seeing something at each step, a string of flashing images. A stover bird struck the water for a fish, its scarlet wings flashing against the blue of sky and water. Then other images came flooding in, hot jungles where slaves toiled, a clash of warriors, a dying soldier, Thūn running over the tundra of the north, a young wife seducing a guard of her husband’s household, a spice merchant at his stall. Then his vision traveled to the north, and he saw…
/>
Ice fields, bitter-cold and swept by a steel-edged wind. He could smell the bitterness of age here. From within a tower of snow and ice, figures emerged bundled against the wind. Human-shaped, they walked with a smooth tread that marked them other than human. They were beings old and wise in ways unknown to men, and they sought a sign in the sky. They looked up and they watched. They watch. Watchers.
Pug sat up, eyes open. “What is it, Pug?” asked Dominic.
“Get the others,” he said. “I know.”
—
Pug stood before the others, his black robes blowing in the morning breeze. “You’ll have no one with you?” Hochopepa asked again.
“No, Hocho. You can help by getting Dominic and Meecham back to my estate so they may return to Midkemia. I’ve passed along all I’ve learned here for Kulgan and the others, with messages for all who need know what we’ve discovered so far. I may be seeking a legend, trying to find these Watchers in the north. You can help more by getting my friends back.”
Elgahar stepped forward. “If it is permitted, I would accompany your friends to your world.”
Pug said, “Why?”
“The Assembly has little need for one caught up in the affairs of the Warlord, and from what you have said, there are Great Ones in training at your academy who need instruction. Count it an act of appeasement. I will remain there, at least for a while, continuing the education of these trainees.”
Pug considered. “Very well. Kulgan will instruct you in what needs be done. Always remember that the rank of Great Ones means nothing on Midkemia. You will be simply one among a community. It will prove difficult.”
Elgahar said, “I shall endeavor.”
Hochopepa said, “That’s a capital idea. I’ve long wondered about this barbaric land you hail from, and I could use a vacation from my wife. I’ll go, too.”
“Hocho,” said Pug, laughing, “the academy is a rough place, devoid of your usual comforts.”
He stepped forward. “Never mind that. Milamber, you’ll require allies on your world. I may speak lightly, but your friends will need help and soon. The Enemy is something beyond the experience of any of us. We’ll start now to combat it. As for the discomfort, I’ll manage.”
“Besides,” said Pug, “you’ve been licking your lips over Macros’s library ever since I’ve spoken of it.”
Meecham shook his head. “Him and Kulgan. Two peas in a pod.”
Hochopepa said, “What’s a pea?”
“You’ll discover soon, old friend.” Pug embraced Hocho and Shimone, shook hands with Meecham and Dominic, and bowed to the other members of the Assembly. “Follow the instructions on activating the rift as I’ve written them. And be certain to close it, once through; the Enemy may still seek a rift to enter our worlds.
“I go to the Shinzawai estate, the northernmost destination where I can use a pattern. From there I’ll take horse and cross the Thūn tundra. If the Watchers still exist, I shall find them and return to Midkemia with what they know of the Enemy. Then shall we meet again. Until then, my friends, care for one another.”
Pug incanted the required spell, and with a shimmer he was gone.
The others stood about awhile. Finally Hochopepa said, “Come, we must make ready.” He looked at Dominic, Meecham, and Elgahar. “Come, my friends.”
EIGHTEEN
VENGEANCE
Jimmy woke with a start.
Someone had walked by on the surface. Jimmy had slept through the day with the others, awaiting the fall of night for the investigation of the black building. He had taken the position closest to the surface.
Jimmy shivered. Throughout the day his dreams had been alien, haunted by troubling images—not true nightmares, but rather dreams filled with odd longings and dim recognitions. It was almost as if he had inherited another’s dreams, and that other hadn’t been human. Somehow he felt lingering memories of rage and hatred. It left him feeling dirty.
Shaking off the odd, fuzzy feeling, he looked down. The others were dozing, except for Baru, who seemed to be meditating. At least, he sat upright with legs crossed and his hands before him, eyes closed and breath even.
Jimmy cautiously pulled himself upward, until he was just below the surface. Two voices sounded some distance away. “…here somewhere.”
“If he was stupid enough to go inside, then the fault is his,” came another voice with a strange accent. A Dark Brother, Jimmy thought.
“Well, I’m not going in after him—not after being warned to keep clear,” said a second human voice.
“Reitz said to find Jaccon, and you know how he is about desertion. If we don’t find Jaccon, he’ll likely have our ears just for spite,” complained the first human.
“Reitz is nothing,” came the voice of the moredhel. “Murad has ordered that none should enter the black building. Would you invoke his wrath and face his Black Slayers?”
“No,” said the first human voice, “but you better think of something to tell Reitz. I’m fresh out…”
The voices trailed off. Jimmy waited until the voices couldn’t be heard, then chanced another brief look. Two humans and a moredhel were walking toward the bridge, one of the humans gesturing. They halted at the end of the bridge, pointing toward the house and explaining something. It was Murad they were speaking to. At the far end of the bridge, Jimmy could see an entire company of human horsemen waiting as the four crossed over.
Jimmy dropped down and woke Arutha. “We’ve got company upstairs,” the boy whispered. Lowering his voice so Baru would not hear, he said, “And your old scar-faced friend is back with them.”
“How close is it to sundown?”
“Less than an hour, perhaps two to full darkness.”
Arutha nodded and settled in to wait. Jimmy dropped past him to the floor of the upper cavern and foraged through his pack for some jerked beef. His stomach had been reminding him he had not eaten for the last day, and he decided that if he was going to die tonight, he might as well eat first.
Time passed slowly, and Jimmy noticed that something beyond the normal tension expected in this situation had infected the mood of each of Arutha’s company. Martin and Laurie had both fallen into deep, brooding silences, and Arutha seemed introverted almost to the point of being catatonic. Baru silently mouthed chants and appeared in a trance, while Roald sat facing a wall, staring at some unseen image. Jimmy shook off distant images of strange people, oddly dressed and engaged in alien undertakings, and forced himself alert. “Hey,” he said with just enough authority to jar everyone and turn their attention to him. “You all look…lost.”
Martin’s eyes seemed to focus. “I…I was thinking of Father.”
Arutha spoke softly. “It’s this place. I was…nearly without hope, ready to give up.”
Roald said, “I was at Cutter’s Gap again, only Highcastle’s army wasn’t going to arrive in time.”
Baru said, “I was singing…my death chant.”
Laurie crossed to stand next to Jimmy. “It’s this place. I was thinking Carline had found another while I was gone.” He looked at Jimmy. “You?”
Jimmy shrugged. “It hit me funny, too, but maybe it’s my age or something. It only made me think of strange people dressed in weird clothing. I don’t know. It sort of makes me angry.”
Martin said, “The elves said the moredhel come here to dream dreams of power.”
Jimmy said, “Well, all I know is you looked like those walking dead.” He moved toward the crevice. “It’s dark. Why don’t I go look about, and if things are quiet, then we can all
go”
Arutha said, “I think perhaps you and I should go together.”
“No,” said the boy thief. “I hate to show a lack of deference, but if I’m to risk my life doing something I’m expert in, let me do it. You need to have someone crawl about inside that place, and I’ll not have you tagging after.”
“It’s too dangerous,” said Arutha.
“I’ll not deny that,” a
nswered Jimmy. “I’ll guarantee that Dragon Lord shrine will need some skill cracking, and if you’ve any sense you’ll let me go alone. Otherwise you’ll be dead before I can say, ‘Don’t step there, Highness,’ and we might as well not have bothered in the first place. We could have just let the Nighthawks skewer you, and I’d have spent many more comfortable nights in Krondor.”
Martin said, “He’s right.”
Arutha said, “I don’t like this, but you are right.” As the boy turned to go, he added, “Have I told you that you put me in mind of that pirate Amos Trask sometimes?”
In the darkness they could sense the boy’s grin.
Jimmy scampered up through the crevice and peered out. Seeing no one, he made a quick run for the building. Coming up against the wall, he edged around until he was before the door. He stood quietly for a moment, judging the best way to approach the problem. He studied the door once again, then quickly clambered up the wall, finding finger- and toeholds in the molding next to the door. Again he studied the anteroom through the window. Double doors opened up into darkness beyond. Otherwise the room was empty. Jimmy glanced upward and was confronted by a blank ceiling. What was waiting inside to kill him? As sure as dogs had fleas, there was a trap inside. And if so, what sort and how to get around it? Again Jimmy was visited by the nagging itch of something odd about this place.
Jimmy dropped back to the ground and took a deep breath. He reached out and lifted the latch of the door. With a shove, he leaped aside, to the left, so the swinging door, hinged on the right, would shield him from anything behind it for an instant. Nothing happened.
Jimmy peered cautiously inside, letting his senses seek out inconsistencies, flaws in the design of the place, any clue to reveal a trap. He saw none. Jimmy leaned against the door. What if the trap were magic? He had no defenses against some enchantment meant to kill humans, non-moredhel, anyone wearing green, or whatever it might be. Jimmy stuck his hand across the portal, ready to snatch it back. Nothing happened.
Jimmy sat. Then he lay down. From the low angle everything looked different and he hoped he might see something. As he rose, something did register. The floor was made of marble slabs of equal size and texture, with slight cracks between them. He lightly placed his foot on the slab before the door, slowly permitting his weight to fall upon it, feeling for any movement. There was none.
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