The others were silent.
Duncan glanced around the inn, then indicated with a quick nod the man he had located. Roo went over to sit next across from the man while Luis and Duncan came to stand on either side.
“What . . . ?” began the man as he started to rise.
Duncan and Luis each placed a hand on his shoulders, forcing him back into his chair. “You’re Rob McCraken?” asked Roo.
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“Who wants to know?” responded the man, obviously feeling less brave than he tried to sound. His face had gone pale and he kept glancing around for a route of escape.
“You have a cousin named Herbert McCraken?”
The man tried again to rise, but found that the two men held him tightly. “Maybe.”
Suddenly Luis had a knife lying alongside the man’s neck, and he said, “You were asked a question that requires a more certain answer, my friend. It is either ‘Yes, he is my cousin,’ or ‘No, he is not my cousin.’ And be sure that the wrong answer will be very painful.”
Softly the man said, “Yes, Herbert is my cousin.”
“When did you last see him?” asked Roo.
“A few days ago. He dined with my family. He’s a bachelor, so he comes by every two or three weeks for a meal.”
“Did he say anything about leaving for a journey?”
“No,” said Rob McCraken. “But he did say good-bye in a funny sort of way.”
“What do you mean?”
The man glanced around. “He lingered at the door and ... well, he hugged me hard, and we haven’t done that since we were kids. It could have been a longer good-bye than I thought.”
“Most likely. If he were to decide to leave Krondor and live elsewhere, where would he go?”
asked Roo.
McCraken said, “I don’t know. Hadn’t thought that way. We have kin in the East, but they’re distant.
A cousin in Salador. Haven’t seen him in ten years.”
Roo paused, drumming his fingers on the table.
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“If your cousin was to come into a lot of gold unexpectedly, where then do you think he might go?”
The man’s eyes narrowed. “Enough to purchase a Quegan title?”
Roo glanced at Luis, who said, “I think a minor title if he took it all.”
Roo stood up. “Sarth.” To Duncan he said, “Get as good a description as you can of this Herbert McCraken, then send a dozen riders to Sarth. If they take extra horses, they should be able to overtake him within ten hours.”
Roo said to Luis, “Head for the docks and start asking questions. No ships in from or bound for Queg are registered, but you never know if one has slipped in claiming to be from the Free Cities or Durbin. Sniff around and double-check that no one matching McCraken’s description is trying to slip aboard a ship bound out of the city. We have enough eyes and ears down there working for us that we should be able to find him.”
To both men he said, “I have something to do, but I will be in the office at first light. If we haven’t found this man by noon tomorrow, we’re ruined.”
Duncan sat in the chair Roo had just vacated.
“Paint me a picture with words, Rob, and spare no detail. What does Herbert look like?”
“Well, he’s a plain-looking fellow, about my height.”
Without waiting for another answer, Roo departed, walking to where he had left his carriage. Once inside, he ordered the driver to take him to the Estherbrook estate.
Calis signaled in the murk, and Erik turned, relay-
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ing the gestures. They were traveling in near blindness, sixty-seven of them spread out in a long line, walking in pairs. Calis led, as he had the ability to see in the dimmest light, while Boldar Blood brought up the rear, claiming to have the power to see in the dark, which seemed highly improbable to Erik, but so far the strange mercenary hadn’t made a single misstep. It was some magic property of his helm, Erik judged.
Miranda kept close to Calis’s side, since she had the ability to see that came close to Calis’s. The rest of the party were forced to move as best they could, using the light of a single torch carried at the center of the column. Erik knew from experience that those closest to the middle of the line were nearly blind when looking away from the torch, while those at either end stood a chance of seeing something beyond the faint fall of illumination.
The signal word was passed that something or someone dangerous was ahead. Each man in line quietly readied his weapons, while Bobby de Loungville came forward from his position half the distance between the torch and Boldar. A step behind him came Praji and Vaja. Erik wished the old mercenaries had not come along, but two old men on horseback alone in the mountains would have stood little chance of getting back to what passed for civilization in this harsh land.
Erik moved forward and felt a slight breeze against his cheek. As he reached the Captain’s position, Calis whispered, “Something’s moving down there.”
“Down there” was the deep circular well that served as the vertical “highway” from this, the top-
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most level, down into the bowels of the mountain.
Erik and the survivors of Calis’s company had trudged up the spiral ramp that hugged the inside of this vast well over two years before, and now they were getting ready to descend into it. Erik listened, but as was often the case, the Captain’s hearing was far more sensitive than Erik’s.
Then faintly, a sound.
It resembled nothing so much as a hand brushing stone. A few seconds later, it repeated. Then silence.
They stood motionless for a full five minutes before Calis signaled for the first five men to accompany him. Erik glanced around and selected the four soldiers at the head of the column, and pulled his own sword.
A covered lantern was lit, and the shutters closed so that only a faint single line of light showed, allowing the men to see slightly, while, it was hoped, not being seen in return.
The six moved out and Erik carried the lantern.
They moved down the tunnel, which was heading slightly downward, as it had been for miles, and then found themselves stepping into the vast well. As was the case at most tunnel intersections, the lip of the road that spiraled inside the well flared out, providing extra room for those entering and leaving the roadway to negotiate around one another. They paused and listened, and again they heard the faint scraping, coming from below.
They moved slowly down the ramp, pausing at each quarter turn of the road around the well, until they again heard the sound. Finally the sound ceased, and they continued on.
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well dropped them about twenty feet. They were three full turns around from where they had entered the well when they found the corpse.
Calis signaled to be alert, and the four men accompanying Erik and Calis turned their backs to the light, two facing up-trail and two facing down.
By not looking at the light they wouldn’t blind themselves to anything approaching out of the darkness.
The figure was covered in a robe, and when Calis pulled back its hood, Erik couldn’t help but audibly gasp. It was a Pantathian.
Erik had never been this close to the enemy. He had seen them once from a distance, in these very tunnels, and another time from a ridge at the great rendezvous when one had come by inspecting troops.
“Turn him over,” whispered Calis, and Erik reached down and moved the body so that it was on its back. A great gaping wound had half-eviscerated the creature and a large
portion of intestine protruded through its shredded robes.
Calis pointed toward an object in the creature’s hands, and said, “Remove that.”
Erik did so and as soon as he touched the object, he wished he hadn’t. An odd energy swept up his arms and made his skin crawl. He suddenly wished he could strip off his clothing and scrub himself until his skin bled and his hair fell out.
Calis seemed to react strongly to the object, even though Erik was the one touching it. Erik turned the thing in his hands and realized it was a helm. It was halfway toward his head when Calis said, “Don’t.”
Erik stopped, realizing that he had been about to don the helm, and said, “What do I do?”
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“Put it down,” said Calis. Turning to another soldier, he ordered, “Bring the others here.”
The soldier took the lamp and vanished, leaving Erik to endure a very strange few moments in the darkness. While he stood there, strange images came to him of dark men in alien armor, women of incredible beauty, but none were human. He shook his head, and by the time he’d rid himself of these images, the column arrived.
Miranda came and said, “What is it?”
Calis pointed. Miranda knelt and examined both the corpse and the helm. She picked it up, and if she was affected by it, she gave no outward sign. Finally she said, “I need a bag.”
One of the soldiers nearby produced a cloth bag and she put the helm inside. To Boldar she said, “You carry this. Of everyone here, this should give you the least amount of discomfort.”
The odd mercenary shrugged, took the bag, and stuck it inside a large rucksack he carried on his hip.
Miranda looked at the corpse and after a moment said, “There seems to be an unexpected turn of events here.”
Calis said, “This one looked to be fleeing, to be protecting this artifact.”
Miranda said, “Or he was stealing it.” She shook her head in frustration. “Speculation gets us nowhere. Let’s continue.”
Calis nodded and signaled, ordering the column downward.
They moved through gallery and plateau, around and around as they descended into the heart of the well. At an otherwise nondescript tunnel, Calis signaled them to turn.
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The column entered the tunnel, which led downward .at a steep angle. As they moved deeper into the tunnel, the temperature quickly rose. It had been getting bitter at night in the mountains, and the tunnels had been just as cold, but as they moved downward, each step seemed to take them toward heat. And as it grew hotter, an odor also grew. It stank of sulfur, and the sweet sick smell of rotten meat.
They entered a broadening tunnel, and Calis signaled; every man drew his weapon. They had discussed this part of the mission until each member of the company could repeat orders in his sleep.
This was the first of the Pantathian galleries, and inside they would find serpent priests, and breeding females. Eggs and young would be housed in some sort of crèche, and the orders were simple: enter and kill every living thing.
Calis signaled and the charge began.
It ended almost as quickly as it began.
The stench in the gallery was far more oppressive than it had been in the tunnels. The overwhelming odor caused more than one man to double over and retch. Everywhere they looked, bodies lay scattered. Most were Pantathians, some infants of that race, while others were alien, the Saaur. But not one was intact. The lone Pantathian they had encountered in the tunnel was almost undamaged compared to those within this hall. The body parts had been strewn around the hall and everywhere the rot of death filled the air with an almost unbearable stink.
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that had once sat upon it. It was a Pantathian corpse, and it was mummified, and it lay in pieces.
“There,” Calis choked, trying to keep his compo-sure while lesser men retched and vomited.
Miranda and Boldar both seemed immune to the smell, and they moved to the corpse. Miranda waved her hands and spent a full minute inspecting the mummy, then turned and said, “Artifacts?”
“Armor, sword, shield, all of what you’d expect,”
answered Calis.
“Well,” said Miranda, “someone got to those items before we did.” She looked around the cavern, inspecting the carnage as one of the soldiers lit a lantern, illuminating the large hall. “Those died defending and paid a price. The one we found must have been days in dying.”
Erik took two men and looked around in neighboring galleries. In one large pool of hot water a half-dozen smashed eggs lay, some with half-formed Pantathians floating in scummy pools. In another gallery they found a dozen tiny figures, babies from their size, and among them lay the bones of many creatures, some of them human.
After they inspected the entire area, Erik reported back. “Captain, it’s the same as here.” He lowered his voice and said, “I don’t see a single wound that looks like it was made by a weapon.”
He pointed to a dead Saaur warrior’s upper torso.
“He wasn’t cut in two, Captain. He looks like something tore him in half.”
Boldar Blood said, “I’ve seen a few creatures that could do that.” He glanced at Erik and Calis, his face masked by the alien helmet he wore, his eyes not vis-
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ible in the black eye slits. “But very few, and not on this world.”
Calis and Miranda looked around and Calis said,
“Something came through here like a fire through summer grass and killed everyone.”
De Loungville said, “Well, someone saved us some butchery.”
Calis looked disturbed for the first time since Erik had met him. He said, “Bobby, someone has walked off with items of power unlike any seen on this world since my father donned the white-and-gold armor.”
De Loungville said, “There’s a third player, then?”
Miranda said, “By all appearances, there is a third player.”
“What now?” asked de Loungville.
“We move downward,” said Calis without hesitation. “We must find who it was that raided this warren and if other warrens have also been destroyed.”
To the assembled company he said, “The orders are changed.” Instantly every man there gave full attention to Calis. “We have another mystery. We will continue to move into the mountains, and if we find living Panthathians, we slay them, to the last living being.” He paused. “But if we find who also is killing them, that enemy of our enemy may be no friend of ours; we need to find out who this other foe is.” He lowered his voice. “They are powerful and now possess some of the most powerful artifacts of the Valheru—the Dragon Lords. They should be feared.”
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reached it, Calis called a halt to the march, letting the men rest and eat. When at last it was time, he signaled, re-formed the column, and ordered them downward, deeper into the well.
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Discovery
Roo nodded.
Duncan drew back his fist and struck the man in the chair. The man’s head snapped back and blood began running down his nose. “Wrong answer,” said Duncan.
Herbert McCraken said, “I don’t know.”
Duncan hit him again.
Roo said, “It’s very simple, McCraken. You tell me who arranged for you to embezzle my gold and who has it, and we’ll let you go.”
“They’ll kill me if I do,” he answered.
/> “We’ll kill you if you don’t,” said Roo. McCraken said, “If I tell you, I’ve got no bargaining power.
What’s to keep you from cutting my throat once I talk?”
“No profit in it,” said Roo. “The gold is mine; it’s not as if we’re trying to break the King’s law in getting it back. If I take you to the City Watch office and file charges with the Duke’s constable, once we get a magistrate who can understand that puzzle of accounts you created, you’ll be working on the har-460
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bor gang for the next fifteen years.”
“If I tell you?”
“We’ll let you leave the city . . . alive.”
He thought a minute, then said, “Newton Briggs is the man’s name. He arranged for the transfer of funds.”
Roo glanced at Jason, who stood in the shadows behind McCraken, where he couldn’t see him. Softly Jason said, “He was a partner in the countinghouse before we bought it.”
McCraken said, “He wasn’t happy to lose control.
I think someone paid him to steal from you. All I know is he promised me enough gold to buy a Quegan title, and a villa, and set up my own business.”
“Why Quegan?” asked Duncan.
Luis, who stood behind the man, keeping him in the chair, said, “Many in the Kingdom dream of being a rich Quegan noble, living in a villa with a dozen young slave girls”—then he shrugged— “or boys.”
Roo laughed. “You’re an idiot. You were played for a fool. You set foot on the docks of the city of Queg and within minutes you’d be on your way to the galleys. Whatever gold you had would be forfeit to the state. Unless you have powerful allies there, noncitizens of Queg have no rights.”
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