by Mel Odom
“Again,” the leader called out.
This time archers at both ends took aim.
At that moment, Craugh’s body started glowing green. He moved quickly, stepping into the wall behind him and vanishing.
Juhg waited expectantly. He’d seen Craugh perform this bit of magic before. The last time had been back in the Vault of All Known Knowledge. The wizard had prevented his death then. Instead, Juhg remained alone in the alley.
The archers looked as confused as Juhg felt.
“He’s a powerful wizard,” Juhg called out, hoping to scare the men away. It probably would have helped if your voice wasn’t quavering, he chided himself. “And he’s very vengeful. If I were you, I’d run.” He pressed back against the alley wall, hoping that Craugh would tug him on through to safety.
“Take him,” the leader called out, and pointed to Juhg.
The other men advanced slowly with their swords and their bows. “Wizard,” one armed man whispered.
“Or he has a spelled charm,” another man said.
Juhg stood his ground, not knowing what to do.
Before the men reached him, Craugh walked out from the wall. His voice echoed strong and loud through the alley, speaking in words that Juhg didn’t recognize. The wizard slammed the butt of his staff against the cobblestones. Green flames suddenly wreathed the top of the staff.
Before the men could charge or flee—from the looks on their faces Juhg knew both impulses had occurred to them—the cobblestones rose up in a tower nearly ten feet tall and two feet thick. They whirled as if caught up in a hurricane, and the alley filled with the angry whir of their passing.
Two of the archers fired their bows again. The arrows never made it through the rocks.
With another word from Craugh and a gesture of the staff, the cobblestones shot toward the men. The rocks broke bone and tore flesh despite the armor they wore. Their clothing turned to tatters. Loud clanking filled the alley, followed instantly by the screams of pain from the survivors.
The glowing green nimbus of light around Craugh deepened as his magic took a firmer hold. “I am Craugh,” he roared. “I will fear no man. And I will not be taken by such as you.”
For a moment, Juhg thought the men would go away. Then someone said, “It’s just one wizard,” and both groups rushed toward the middle of the alley.
Without hesitation, Juhg drew his boot knife and stood back to back with the wizard as their enemies approached. Even though he thought he was going to die almost immediately, he couldn’t help wondering how the men had come to be there. Someone had set them upon their trail. Or his at least, because they didn’t seem familiar at all with Craugh.
Juhg stood his ground, slipping into a knife-fighting stance he’d learned while reading books. Boloy Trasker’s Ribbons of Shining Steel had provided numerous illustrations that showed the moves. Still, even Boloy Trasker, who had been a human of incredible skill and prowess, couldn’t have stood up to twenty armed men. Even though he hadn’t been able to count all the men, Juhg was sure they didn’t fall short of that number by much. He stood with his left hand and left foot forward, his right hand holding his blade point outward with his hand above his head. If he got lucky, he’d be able to menace the first man’s chin before he went down under their numbers.
Then a familiar war cry ripped through the alley.
“Wah-hoooooo!”
At almost the same instant, the twenty men in front of Juhg tumbled like stacked tiles, plunging face forward as they were barreled over from behind. The closest man went down at Juhg’s feet. His sword clanked against the cobblestones.
A dwarf hauled himself up from the pile of scattered men. He was in full armor. Although not as tall as Hallekk, the warrior was—almost impossibly—broader through the shoulder. Scars marked the cheeks of his face. His graying beard hung to his massive chest. He lifted a double-bitted war axe that gleamed in the afternoon sun that crept over the edge of the building and into the alley.
“Hello, Juhg,” the dwarf said with a grin. “I see you went and saved a few for me.”
“Cobner?” Juhg said, recognizing the dwarf from the adventures they’d had along the mainland with the Grandmagister.
Cobner had been one of Brandt’s band of thieves back when the Grandmagister had arrived in slaver’s chains at Hanged Elf’s Point. At that time, Brandt had been lawless, still unable to return to his ancestral lands and claim the title that was his by birth and later his by might and cunning. Brandt had bought the Grandmagister at a slave auction because he’d seen the Grandmagister writing in his journal.
Drawn to the goblinkin-infested city by tales of indescribable wealth, Brandt had put the Grandmagister to the task of solving a riddle that had allowed them to plunder the loot. During that night in the all but forgotten graveyard where a wizard had left his fortune, and when the Grandmagister had found the first four books hidden in ruins on the mainland, the Grandmagister had also risked his life to save Cobner’s. The dwarven warrior had always insisted that the Grandmagister had the most interesting scar for saving his life. They had become the deepest of friends in the years that had followed.
“Aye,” Cobner growled, grinning wider still. “Surprised to see me?” He lifted his battle-axe and drove the ironclad hilt hard against one of his opponent’s helmets, knocking the man unconscious almost effortlessly.
“Very,” Juhg admitted. The man in front of him had regained his senses enough to reach for his sword. Juhg stomped on his fingers, then kicked him in the head, knocking him out against the cobblestones.
“Hah!” Cobner growled with pride. “I see you haven’t forgot all that ol’ Cobner taught you. Was Wick that taught me halfers might be small but they had the hearts of warriors.”
Several of the humans got to their feet and took up arms.
“I’ll be talking to you soon,” Cobner promised. “Just stay alive. Wick told me what he had to do here was going to be interesting.” He slammed shut the faceplate of his helmet. “I’m looking forward to it.” He took up his battle-axe in both hands and started battling ferociously.
One of the men got up and started for Juhg. The man drew his sword back and Juhg had no doubt that the man intended to kill him.
The man stopped suddenly and looked down at his chest. An arrowhead protruded through his armor where his heart would be. He tottered forward another step, then fell on his face. The arrow that had entered through his back and pierced him all the way through stood upright between his shoulder blades. The fletchings were a unique violet and blue pattern.
Looking back past the dead man and past Cobner driving two men backward against a wall with his battle-axe haft shoved against their throats, Juhg spotted the young elven maid at the end of the alley calmly putting another arrow to string as if killing a man were something she did every day.
She was lissome and lovely. Her bronze hair gleamed in the sunlight, tied back in a queue that left her pointed ears revealed for all to see. High warder’s boots rose to her knees. She wore a violet jacket over white breeches. A longsword hung at her hip.
She lifted her chin in greeting, then put a shaft through the eye of an opponent who drew back his own bow. Before the dead man fell, she’d reached over her shoulder and pulled out another arrow.
Her name was Jassamyn. She was the daughter of Tseralyn, the elven woman mercenary the Grandmagister had freed from a giant spider’s web near the Broken Forge Mountains. Although her mother had settled down to a overland trade kingdom she’d carved out of the wilderness herself, Jassamyn maintained some of the same wanderlust that had fired her beautiful mother.
The Grandmagister, Juhg couldn’t help thinking. He called them here. He must have. Hope sprang in his heart. Whatever he faced, whatever they faced, there could surely be no more stouthearted companions for whatever dangers lay ahead.
A glittering jewel swooped down from the sky, almost straight as one of Jassamyn’s arrows. At the last second, the tiny draca unfurled
its batwings and swung its claws forward, slashing the face of another of the armed men. The draca whipped its wings immediately, seeking yet another target.
Turning to make certain of Craugh’s well-being, Juhg watched as the wizard unleashed a fiery blast from the staff that hurled three opponents into the street at the other end of the alley. The others came at Craugh with swords, axes, and knives, driving him backward.
Juhg dashed forward, trusting his faster speed in tight areas to keep him safe. He ducked below a man’s sword, then stomped on the side of his knee. Bone cracked and he went down.
Ellgot’s Tips and Tricks to Dirty Fighting, Juhg thought. Lesson number eighteen. Then he fought alongside Craugh, turning the sword blades away with his long knife and keeping the men bunched into one group so they couldn’t work as effectively. They had picked a poor battleground considering how many of them there were. If Craugh and he had simply given up, there would have been no problem, but now their numbers worked against them.
Craugh slammed his staff forward again, striking a man squarely in his armor-plated chest. The next instant the man sailed backward as though hit by a gigantic fist.
Struggling to stay alive and help Craugh at the same time, Juhg didn’t see the corpse beneath his feet until he had tripped over it and was falling. The man before him brought his sword down in a glittering arc, his face a mask of bloodthirsty rage. Juhg had no doubt that his head was about to be split into pieces.
“No!” Craugh yelled, turning to aid him, but too late as well.
8
The Grandmagister’s Puzzling Journal
Then a cutlass intercepted the attacker’s blade and turned it aside.
Startled, not daring to believe he was still alive, Juhg stared up at the man who had saved him. He recognized him at once. Raisho.
Juhg had met the young sailor little more than a year previously. They had formed a fast friendship and spent time together when Juhg was free from his duties at the Library. Juhg had told Raisho tales and histories, and Raisho had told him of the things he had seen on the mainland while serving as a pirate protecting Greydawn Moors from anyone interested in crossing the Blood-Soaked Sea. Later, when Juhg had decided the Vault of All Known Knowledge no longer held a future for him, he had forged a friendship with the young sailor and they had gone into business together as traders.
Before the attacker had the chance to pull his blade back to defend himself, Raisho disemboweled him and kicked him backward. Raisho was tall and fierce looking. Sunlight glinted from the silver hoops in his ears. His black skin marked him as a human from the south. A red leather band with osprey feathers held his long, unruly hair back from his face. He was twenty and an orphan. Eight years of his life had been spent at sea, all of them at hard labor either tending cargo or pulling oars. Indigo blue good luck tattoos on his arms, legs, and chest stood out against his skin. Like Juhg, the young sailor had been raised as an orphan until Windchaser’s captain had taken him in.
“Are ye all right then, scribbler?” Raisho asked with much concern. Worry darkened his warm brown eyes.
“Yes,” Juhg croaked, but he believed his heart was going to explode.
“I thought I’d done gone an’ arrived too late, I did,” Raisho admitted. A wide white smile split his lips. He reached out a hand, catching Juhg’s hand, and helped him to his feet.
For a short time, the attackers tried to continue their assault, bunching in small knots and attempting to overpower one of Juhg’s defenders. Instead, the men were killed or repeatedly driven back. Bodies littered the alley floor, but Craugh, Cobner, Jessamyn, Raisho, and Juhg stayed alive.
“Cobner,” Craugh said, breathing hard. He whipped his tall hat against his leg to knock the dust off. “It’s good to see you.”
“And you,” the dwarf replied as he shook the blood from his battle-axe. “I don’t suppose you know who these would-be ruffians are?”
“No.” The wizard clapped his hat back on his head. “But they knew Juhg. They didn’t know me.”
Cobner grinned mirthlessly. “I guess they know you now.”
Craugh smiled back, the expression equally devoid of warmth. Over the years, Juhg had noted that the dwarven warrior and the wizard shared the same bloodthirstiness when it came to battle.
“Mayhap we should ask one of ’em a question or two,” Cobner suggested. He sorted through the fallen men with the haft of his battle-axe, striking each one in turn till he found one that groaned. He kicked the man over onto his back, then grabbed a fistful of the man’s shirt and lifted him as if he weren’t full grown at all but a small child. He spun and smacked the man up against the alley wall. Then he pressed the head of the battle-axe against the man’s throat so that the man had to hang onto the axe or drop a handful of inches to the ground.
The man gripped the axe head tightly and held on. His eyes rolled white with fear.
“I’ll be after having your name,” Cobner threatened. “Elsewise I’ll do for you and leave your body for the alley strays to care for in their ungentle manner.”
“Mullock,” the man cried. He held his wounded shoulder with his good hand. He made no move for the knife belted at his waist.
“What were you doing here, Mullock?” Cobner asked.
“Came for the halfer.”
“How’d you know he would be here?”
The man hesitated. Showing more than a little irritation, Cobner shook the man and slammed him against the stone wall. “I can check to see of one of your mates is alive, but if’n I do and I find one, I got no more use for you.”
“Aldhran Khempus,” Mullock said.
Cobner squinted at the man doubtfully. “Aldhran shipped this morning. If’n he knew my friend was gonna be here, why didn’t Aldhran stay here himself?”
“I don’t know.”
Cobner drew the man away from the wall and prepared to slam him back again.
“No, I swear. I swear I don’t know.”
Cobner hesitated, his doubting look clearly showing he was torn in his beliefs.
“No, Cobner,” Craugh said. “I believe he speaks the truth.”
Juhg believed him, too. Cobner in his full wrath was a frightful thing to behold.
“What were you supposed to do?” Cobner demanded.
“Capture the halfer. We weren’t going to hurt him.”
“But anyone else you were gonna massacre.”
“We were told to.”
Cobner shook the man, making his prisoner’s teeth clack together. “And if you’d captured my friend, what were you supposed to do with him?”
“Take him to Aldhran Khempus.” The man gritted his teeth together in pain.
“Where were you supposed to meet Aldhran Khempus?”
“At the Buzzard’s Neck.”
“In the Haze Mountains?”
Mullock nodded.
“What is Aldhran Khempus doing there?”
“I don’t know. By the Old Ones, I swear to you that I don’t. We were only told to find a halfer fitting this one’s description if he showed up, then take him to the Haze Mountains.”
Juhg took the information in. The Haze Mountains, so named for the perpetual fogs that surrounded the mountain range’s top half, which was thousands of feet above sea level, were located far into the interior of the mainland. Some said the fogs were created by the spirits of those who had been slain in the Valley of the Dead below, that the ghosts couldn’t go on to their final rest until their business in the earth was finished.
Even though he had seen a number of strange things, Juhg didn’t believe the stories. However, as a result of the legends, few people ever traveled there, and fewer still returned. Legends persisted that hunters sometimes wandered into the Haze Mountains seeking game only to return years older with a head full of madness. Others came back with fabulous treasures, the like of which had never been seen or had not been seen in centuries.
“Craugh?” Cobner asked.
“We’re done with hi
m,” the wizard replied.
A look of wild-eyed terror filled the man’s face as Cobner plucked him from the wall, still holding his weight one-handed, then slammed him against the wall so that his head hit with a meaty thunk. He slumped unconscious, then Cobner opened his fist and let the man drop bonelessly to the ground.
Cobner turned and surveyed the dead and injured men. There were over two dozen dead and unconscious at his feet. “Gonna be right interesting while we’re here,” he commented. Then he looked at Craugh. “Got any idea how long that might be?”
Craugh pointed his chin at Juhg. “He has all the answers at this point.”
Shouldering his battle-axe, Cobner looked at Juhg. “Well, if you got no more business with these men, I suggest we get back to whatever it is you were doing here. We’re a threat here to these men, and they’re not going to wait around till it’s convenient for us to fight them for our lives. And there’s Peacekeepers. Getting stuffed into a jail here on the island now wouldn’t be a pleasing prospect.”
“I know,” Juhg said.
“If you’ve got a place for us to be, let’s be getting there.”
Silently, Juhg agreed. He took the lead and trotted out of the alley with Raisho at his back.
“Windchaser caught up with One-Eyed Peggie out in the harbor,” Raisho said as he followed Juhg through the Garment District.
In terse sentences, he told how Captain Attikus had rendezvoused with the pirate ship and quickly talked with Captain Hallekk to find out that Juhg and Craugh had been set ashore. Raisho had quickly secured permission to be set ashore and had spotted Juhg and Craugh only a short time before Cobner and Jassamyn had staged their rescue bid. Captain Attikus and Windchaser took up the hunt for the Grandmagister with One-Eyed Peggie.
The elven archer quickly recounted how she and Cobner had come to the Garment District fully expecting to meet up with the Grandmagister, as was prearranged by a note the Grandmagister had sent by pigeon months ago. The Grandmagister had asked them to be there, and had mentioned that Juhg might be with him.
