Part 32 (2/2)
”Huh? Who?”
”These people. Nothing but peace under the ground.”
”I wonder.”
”Do you? d.a.m.nit, when I say....”
”Father!”
”What's your problem, boy?”
”You're acting like an a.s.s.” He wouldn't have dared had Haaken not been there.
Haaken always took his part. He thought.
Ragnarson started to rise. Haaken seized his arm, pulled him back.
Bragi was big. Six-five, and two hundred twenty-five pounds of muscle. His years at the Palace hadn't devoured his vitality.
Haaken was bigger. And stronger. And more stubborn. ”The boy's right. Sit down and listen.”
Trebilc.o.c.k seated himself facing them. He wrinkled his nose. He was fastidious.
He picked dirt and gra.s.s, real and imagined, off his breeches the whole time he told his tale.
Ragnarson wasn't interested, despite Michael's rending the veils of mysteries that had plagued him for months.
”Why didn't you bring them out?” Haaken asked. Michael hadn't told it all earlier.
”They separated her from Ethrian. She wanted to stay. And they had a man there, who wore black, and a golden mask.... He would've found us in minutes if he'd known we were there. Probably before we could get out of town.”Ragnarson looked thoughtful when Michael mentioned the man in the mask, then lapsed into indifference again.
”I never saw a city that big.... It made h.e.l.lin Daimiel look like a farm town.
Oh. I almost forgot. She said to bring you this. Well, Varthlokkur, but he isn't around. It might not wait till he finds me.” He handed Ragnarson an ebony casket.
Bragi accepted with a slight frown. ”Elana's thing.” He turned it over and over before trying to open it. .
The lid popped up....
The ruby within was alive, was afire. It painted their faces in devil shades.
”Please close it.”
They jumped. Swords whined out. They looked upward.
”Close it!”
Ragnarson kicked the lid shut.
Varthlokkur descended from the sky, his vast cloak flapping about him. Above him floated the Unborn.
Trebilc.o.c.k, Ragnarson thought, at least had the decency to be surprised.
Hopefully, someday, he would be afraid too.
”Where the h.e.l.l did you come from?” Haaken demanded.
”Afar. Radeachar came for me when he saw the pale man and his companion coming through the Gap. You were hard to locate. What're you doing here?”
Haaken made a gesture which included Ragnarson, Elana's grave, and the Royal Mausoleum.
Meantime, Bragi lost interest again. He sat down, reopened the casket.
”d.a.m.nit, I said close it!” Varthlokkur growled.
Ragnarson quietly drew his sword.
High, high above, a tiny rider on a winged steed spied another red flash. He circled lower, pa.s.sing over unseen because he was invisible from below. He recognized three of the men. ”d.a.m.n!” he spat. He soared, and raced northward. He didn't notice the great bird which circled higher still.
Varthlokkur shuddered and glanced around, feeling something. But there was nothing to see.
The Unborn darted this way and that. It had felt the presence too. After a moment it settled into position above Varthlokkur's head.
The others felt it too. Bragi lowered his blade, looked around, realized what he was doing. Attacking Varthlokkur? With simple steel?
It was getting dark. Ragnar lighted the torches he always brought because his father so often dallied till after nightfall.
The flames repulsed the encroachment of night....
Something s.h.i.+fted, made a small mewling sound beyond the light.Weapons appeared again. A soft, hissing voice said, ”Enough. I come in friends.h.i.+p.”
Ragnarson shuddered. He knew that voice. ”Zindahjira.”
That sorce'rer's life-path had crossed his before. The first time had been once too often. Zindahjira wasn't even human-or so Bragi suspected. When this wizard went abroad by daylight, he wrapped himself in a blackness which reversed the function of a torch.
Varthlokkur was the more powerful, the more dread magician, but, at least, came in human form.
Must be what we sensed, Ragnarson thought.
Something else moved at the edge of the firelight. Bragi had the satisfaction of seeing Michael Trebilc.o.c.k startled.
Two more things appeared. One went by the name The Thing With Many Eyes, the other, Gromacki, The Egg Of G.o.d. Each was as inhuman as Zindahjira, though not of his species.
They were sorcerers of renown and had gathered from the far reaches of the west.
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