Quentin stood at the high parapet overlooking the tranquil forest. His

camp'

 
1 Theido offered a nod. "We will pray that something presents itself

along the way. I know not what we shall do else."
 
Two human skulls stared vacantly back at Quentin from where they stood
affixed to long poles on either side of Gurd's low dais. The warlord
himself seemed only a slightly more animated skulL He sat unmoving, the
soft lamplight filling the hollows of his lean face with shadow. That
he was aware at all of their presence was shown by the two glinting
orbs of his black eyes.
 
The warlord was seated, as were his reluctant guests, upon a cushion.
His chest was bare, for he wore a short jacket open to the waist. It
was of a very ornate pattern, brocaded in delicate figures foreign to
Quentin's eye. But it was the man's chest which caught and held
Quentin's attention. For even in the glimmering light of the oil lamps
he could see that it was a mass of scars long, jagged, nasty-looking
scars. No accident or wound of battle could have produced them in such
profusion; some were obviously more recent, for they overlaid others,
and some were only freshly healed.
 
Quentin realized with a start that the wounds, these horrible
mutilations, were self-inflicted.
 
The seneschal, now seated at the warlord's right hand between the
prisoners and his master, clapped his hands, and slaves bearing large
bowls of food came hurrying in. Another slave set down smaller bowls
which the food-bearers proceeded to fill from the larger bowls. When
this was completed the bowls were left before the diners, and the
slaves withdrew hastily.
 
The warlord picked up his bowl and fell to eating at once, without
another glance at his guests.
 
The food, an ^nf^miliflr kind of boiled grain heavily spiced with
chunks of meat in a thick sauce, was steaming hot. It tasted exotic
and otherworldly to Quentin's uninitated palate, and once swallowed it
left a lingering warmth on the tongue. They ate with fingers, bowls
held to their lips. Quentin contrived to balance his bowl on the inner
pan of his knee, dipping with his left hand, his useless right arm
cradled in his lap.
 
Midway through the meal a slave appeared with a jar and began to pour
out an amber liquid into golden cannikins. These, too, were placed
before each one and the slave departed. The beverage was a wine of
some kind. Quentin recognized the slight metallic tang, but it was of
a kind he had never encountered: smooth, almost thick, and wonderfully
sweet. He found that a sip banished the warm tingle on his tongue
produced by the spice of the food.
 
The warlord ate two bowls greedily without looking up. When he had
finished, he lay down his bowl and placed his hands upon his knees. He
belched once and then said something very quickly.
 
The meal is over," the seneschal informed the prisoners. And though
Quentin's bowl was still half fall, he put it down and rested his hand
upon his knee in imitation of his host.
 
"Lord Gurd wishes you to know that he only eats in the presence of
those he respects, and that he will only share food with those he
admires." The emissary nodded to them, indicating that some response
of like nature was intended.
 
"Who are we that he should respect or admire us, his enemies?"
 
/ 489 I
 
The emissary translated Quentin's question, and the warlord chuckled
deeply and made a short reply.
 
"Lord Gurd says that your spirit has ennobled you. You, fair skinned
one, have survived the ordeal of the wheel. Had you been a coward, you
would have died. You," he addressed Toli, "risked death to rescue your
friend. This deed has value, even though it is the act of a fool. The
Lord Gurd admires such courage. He will be sorry to kill you when the
time comes, but your blood will How for him as a most satisfying
oblation for his immortality. This pleases him."
 
This answer mystified and angered Quentin, he started to make a reply,
but felt Toll's light touch on his arm. Instead he said, "Why do you
invade our land? Who are you?"
 
The seneschal spoke to the warlord who smiled thinly, like a serpent.
"I informed Lord Gurd that you were honored that he should deem you
worthy for such service." To Quentin's sharply angry look he added,
"It would not serve to anger him just now. He would have you
disemboweled to return the food you have eaten with him."
 
"What does he want with us?" asked Toli.
 
"He alone knows."
 
\ Gurd picked up his goblet and drank deeply of the sweet liquor. When
he had done, he rumbled a long discourse to his emissary, who
interpreted. "Lord Gurd wishes to know how far is the great city this
Askelon and how is it fortified and by how many soldiers it is
guarded."
 
"How is it that he believes I know the answers to such questions?"
Quentin replied.
 
After a brief consultation with his lord, the man replied, "Lord Gurd
knows that you have horses and therefore are not unsubstantial men. He
has seen your weapons and clothing and believes that you are of favored
rank. The fact that you attacked his soldiers, the two of you alone,
tells him you are not unfamiliar with military matters and are in fact
well-trained for such purposes."
 
Quentin hesitated. Toll's thoughts could not be discerned.
 
"If you are pondering whether to answer or not, please allow me to
remind you that X-ord Gurd perceives any answers following such
reluctance to be a lie, as I have already told you. Give me your
answer at once, and he will be appeased
 
"Askelon is a far distance from here, many leagues. And he is right to
call it a great city, for so it is. There is none like it. No host
has ever conquered Castle Askelon, and none ever will."
 
"And how many soldiers defend this place
 
"Tell your lord Gurd that the Dragon King's army is sufficient to any
need."
 
The warlord watched this exchange closely, not entirely pleased with
Quentin's reponse. But he nodded with satisfaction when his
interpreter had finished his reply. Gurd beamed at Quentin and Toll
and in his thick, incomprehensible speech addressed them both.
 
"The Lord Gurd is pleased with your answers. He has decided to allow
you to live until we reach Askelon, where you will be sacrificed in
order that he might win the city more quickly. He wishes to assure you
that your blood will flow for him alone. This is a very high honor."
 
"It is an honor we would rather forgo," Quentin said in a voice edged
with subtle sarcasm, "but perhaps we may reciprocate the distinction at
some future time."
 
The emissary smiled slyly and began to offer Quentin's remarks to his
master, who bowed faintly and then yawned. He waved his hand toward
his servant who stood, saying, "The audience is now at an end. Bow to
him and retreat; do not show your back to him."
 
They all backed away from the warlord's presence, through the curtain.
They crossed the tent and stepped once more outside. The evening was
deepening, and Quentin felt the atmosphere in the camp pulsing with a
barely contained excitement. The soldiers clustered together in knots,
and coarse laughter could be heard on every side. The sun was well
down, and the sky blushed crimson in the west. When the light finally
disappears^ thought Quentin, these barbarians will deliver themselves
to frenzy.
 
As if reading his thoughts, the seneschal said, "This night there will
be wild celebration, for it is Ifegnrutha the Night of Animal
Spirits."
 
"You speak our language well, sir," said Quentin cautiously.
 
/ 491 l
 
A sly look came into the dark eyes. "I speak eleven languages very
well"
 
"What did you say in there?" asked Quentin as his form r guards
hurried up to take them away.
 
The warlord's personal servant smiled, revealing a row of fine white
teeth that seemed to glow in the fading light. "I told him that it was
an honor you would gladly repay in kind. He was flattered."
 
"Why should you protect us?" asked Toll as the guards relied their
hands. "What is it to you if we live or die?"
 
"There is no time to explain. I will come to you tonight when the
chaos is at its peak." The emissary spun on his heel and went back
into the tent. Quentin and Toli were marched away to the wagons once
more, but this time Quentin fell as if they moved in an aura of
increased respect. The looks they received from the soldiers they
passed were frankly awed to the point of reverence. He guessed that
most who were summoned to the tent did not walk out, but they had.
 
TWENTY-ONE
 
DUR WING REMAINED long enough with the guests to case their fears over
the King's odd behavior. He had walked about and greeted all, as if he
were king himself, and his presence seemed to calm any feelings of
disquiet created by the King's speech. The music trilled and eddied, a
rippling river to carry away the concerns of the moment.
 
The minstrel master called a cotillion, and the couples began choosing
the leaders from among the best dancers present. Durwin chose this
time to sneak quietly away, as neither Eskevar nor Alinea had returned.
He was vaguely worried that something more serious might have
transpired.
 
The WarhrdiofNut
 
He hurried up the stone steps and fled into the castle's gallery
entrance; the wide wooden doors were thrown open and rows of bright
torches illuminated the broad corridor. A few curious guests strolled
the gallery to marvel at the interior of Castle Askelon. Without
appearing to be in haste, Durwin nevertheless hurried along to the
King's apartment. He had little doubt he would find Bskevar there.
 
Oswald was at the door when Durwin came bustling along. "Oswald, is
all well?"
 
Oswald ducked his head in a shallow bow and said, "Aye, m'lord. The
King is inside and the Queen with him. He has a messenger."
 
Durwin's eyebrows arched. "Who?"
 
"I know not. I did not sec him arrive. The warder brought him hither
at once."
 
"Very well. Let us see, then, what is afoot."
 
Oswald opened the door and went in. As Durwin made to rid low the old
chamberlain, he felt a light touch on his arm.
 
"Bria, I thought you were in the garden."
 
"I followed you." Her smooth brow furrowed with worry. "What is
it?"
 
"A messenger has come, that is all. Wait here but a little, and I will
come and tell you all I can."
 
"No, I would go with you." So saying, she stepped through the doorway
and pulled Durwin with her.
 
"Ah, Durwin! I was about to send for you." Eskevar sat in a great
carved chair; Alinea stood beside him with her hand on his shoulder.
Both were looking intently at the knight, bedraggled and exhausted, his
clothing and light armor grimed over with the dust of the road. The
soldier stood swaying with fatigue before them.
 
"It is Martran," Eskevar indicated with an open hand, "one of Ronsard's
knights. He was just about to tell us his message."
 
The knight bowed and said, his voice rough from the dust he had
swallowed, "Lord Ronsard says, "We are continuing on our mission and
are sorry for the delay in returning lo Askelon. We will come hence as
soon as we are satisfied that we have obtained that which we seek, or
have some better report to bring.""
 
 
"Is that all, sir knight? You may speak freely."
 
I 493 I
 
"That is all. Sire. That is my message." Eskevar, his eyes
displaying sad concern, stroked his chin with his hand.
 
"Why did he send you with such a message, brave knight "I believe that
he was worried that his long absence would cause you alarm. Theido it
was suggested a message be carried back that they might continue their
errand."
 
"Why was that had you seen nothing to render an account "No, Sire. We
saw nothing out of the ordinary. But " He hesitated as if unsure of
his place to speak further.
 
"But what, good fellow?" asked Durwin drawing closer. "Have no Seas.
There is nothing you can say that will incur your King's displeasure.
Withholding your thoughts, however, could be a mistake. Please speak
and allow us to fudge."
 
"Yes, sir." The knight bowed to Durwin. "It is this. I sensed that
something was bothering my lords. They were looking for something and
finding it not. This upset Theido greatly. He pushed a furious pace;
he wanted to ride all night on occasion. But Ronsard would not let
him. They often had words with one another over it.
 
"But I saw something which puzzled me on the way back. I think that if
Theido had seen it, he would have been even more adamant in his
ways."
 
"And what did you see?" Eskevar asked softly. His eyes were eagle's
eyes as he watched the messenger.
 
"One of the villages we had passed through only a day or BO before was
empty when I rode back through. I thought it strange that I did not
see anyone, though I did not stop to look further into the matter."
 
"Empty?"
 
"Yes, Sire. It was completely abandoned."
 
"Anything else? Anything to indicate why that should be so?"
 
"Not at all. It seemed as if it had been deserted very quickly, though
no cause could I see. But, like I say, I did not stop to wonder at it.
I came on."
 
"I see. Very well, Martran; you may go to your bed. You have well
earned your rest.
 
"Oswald, take Sir Martran to the kitchen and feed him, and then Find
him a bed in the castle where he will not be disturbed." To the knight
he added, "Stay close about; I may wish to question you further. Now
go and take your ease."
 
Oswald led the knight away, the man reeled on his feet. "Just one more
thing, sir," said Durwin as Oswald swung open the door. "You did not
say that you met Quentin and Toll on the road. Yet you must have
passed them at some point. They left here in search of your party a
fortnight ago."
 
The knight shook his head. "I passed no one at all. And I thought
that strange as well, for until I reached Hinsenby the roads were mine
alone."
 
"Thank you, Martran. Sleep well."
 
Durwin fixed a wondering look at the King. "His tale is queer indeed.
I do not know what to make of it."
 
"It is as I have said there are strange happenings in the land. An
evil grows, but we see it not."
 
"But what has happened to Quentin?" Bria was suddenly concerned.
 
"We do not know, my Lady," answered Durwin. "But the land is great.
They may have traveled by another route." His tone was not as
reassuring as he would have liked.
 
"At any rate we will soon know," Eskevar offered. "I propose to go
myself in search of them." The Dragon King was on his feet, striding
forth as if he would leave at once.
 
"Say not so, my Lord!" pleaded Alinca. You have not yet recovered
enough strength to abide the saddle."
 
"Go if you would. Sire. It is your pleasure. But in going you risk
missing the return of your envoy. And where would you begin searching
for them?"
 
Eskevar threw a wounded look at the hermit. "What am I to do? I
cannot remain here forever, waiting while the enemy grows stronger."
 
"No one has seen an enemy," pointed out the Queen.
 
Eskevar turned on her with a growl. "You think he docs not ca dst He
does!" He thumped his chest. "I can feel him here. He is coming I
can feel it."
 
"All the more reason to wait. Gain your strength. The action you seek
will come soon enough if you are right."
 
/ 495 I
 
King Eskevar fell back into his chair in frustration. His noble
countenance seethed with dark despair. He thrust his hands through his
hair. "Mensandor cries out for her protector, but he sits abed and
quakes with fear. Who will save us from our weakness?"
 
"Leave him now," said Alinca, taking Durwin and Bria aside. *1 will
tend him. This is the duty of a wife and Queen."
 
"By your leave, my Lady. I will withdraw to my chambers. Send for me
should you need anything." Durwin took Bria by the arm and drew her
from the room.
 
"I have never seen him thus," said Bria, her voice quivering on the
edge of tears.
 
"It is a most difficult time for him, and he is not a man much
accustomed to difficulty. But worry not on it. For I saw signs of his
spirit returning. He will be the Rragon King once more."
 
The great hand closed over the small white body of the bird. There was
a flutter ofdny wings and a surprised chirp as the hand withdrew from
the cage. The dove struggled weakly, its head poking through the
circle formed by the giant thumb and forefinger. A small red-ringed
eye stared in terror at the contorted face of the mighty Nin.
 
Nin the Immortal felt the swift beating of the tiny heart and the
dove's soft warm body filling his hand. Then he squeezed. The bird
squirmed and cried out. Nin squeezed harder. The yellow beak opened
wide; the tiny head rolled to the side. Nin, whose fleets stretched
the breadth of Gerfallon, opened his hand slowly. The bundle of
feathers in his hand shivered and lay still.
 
With a cry of delight, Nin the Destroyer flung the dead bird across the
room where it landed with a soft plop near the door of his chamber. A
flurry of white down floated gently to the floor to settle like
snowflakes around the lifeless body.
 
As Nin sat gazing at his handiwork a chime sounded in the passageway
beyond, followed by the ludicrous sight of Uzla's head peering around
the edge of the door.
 
"Immortal One, I bring news." The minister's eyes strayed to the small
white lump of feathers on the floor before him.
 
"Enter and speak." Nin's great voice rumbled.
 
Uzia tiptoed quietly in and prostrated himself before his master.
 
"Rise. Your god commands you. Speak, Uzia; let your voice utter
pleasing words of worship to the Eternal One."
 
"Who is like our Nin? How shall I describe his greatness? For it is
more brilliant than the shining deeds of men, and his wisdom endures
forever." Uzia lifted his hands to his face as if to shade his eyes
from the piercing rays of the sun.
 
"Your words please me. Tell me now, what is your news? Has Askeloo
been taken? I am becoming impatient with this waiting. Tell me what I
wish to hear, Uzla."
 
"My news is perhaps better suited to a different time and place, Most
Noble Nin. I know not ofAskelon, but may it be as you say."
 
"What, then? Tell me quickly I grow tired of your foolishness."
 
"The commander of your fleet below Elsendor sends word of victory. The
ships of King Troen have been destroyed, and the battle on land is
begun."
 
The great hairless face split into a wide smile of satisfaction, the
flesh of his cheeks rolled away on either side like mountains forming
alongside a deep chasm. His dark baleful eyes shrank away to tiny
black pits, and his chin sank into the folds on his neck. "It is well!
How many prisoners were sacrificed to me?" The room shook with the
ringing Joy of the thunderous voice.
 
Uzla's look transformed itself momentarily into one of dismay. "I know
not. Infinite Majesty. The commander did not say, but we may deduce,
I think, that it was a very great number. It is ever thus."
 
"True, true. I am pleased. I will have a feast to celebrate!"
 
"May I dare to remind the Supreme Light of the Universe that it is
Hegnrutha? There is already a feast tonight, it is being prepared even
now."
 
"Ahh. yes. How suitable. Go then and bring me word when all is in
readiness. And command the slaves to ready my oil bath; I will be
anointed before the celebration begins. My subjects will fill their
eyes with my splendor tonight. It is my will for them. Hear and
obey."
 
/ 497 /
 
Uzla fell on his face once more and then backed out of the room. His
brittle cadence could be beard moments later calling the slaves
together to prepare the fragrant oils in which to bathe their
sovereign.
 
Nin raised his round moon of a face and laughed; the deep notes tumbled
from his throat to reverberate to the furthest corners of the enormous
palace ship. Those who heard it shuddered. Who among them would be
asked to provide for the Immortal One's amusement tonight? Whoever
chanced to serve that honor on the night ofHegnrutha likely would not
see another morning.
 
TWENTY-TWO
 
 
,; THE TOWER of flames leapt high into the night, pouring |i itself
into the vast darkness above, blotting out the stars in the scarlet
glow. Quentin and Toli. tethered to the wagon's wheels, could feel
the heat of the enormous bonfire on their faces, though they were well
removed from the blaze. As the flames soared skyward, the wild revel
rose on its own wicked wings, taking the form of a thing fevered and
inflamed.
 
The tumult had grown steadily through the evening hours, and now the
surrounding woods echoed with the crazed ravings of the celebrants. The
raging mass seethed about the fire in gyrations of ever increasing
frenzy. To Quentin and Toli, looking on in mute wonder, it seemed as
if something had taken control of their spirits and played them as a
maddened minstrel striking his instrument in tortured ecstasy.
 
Quentin saw, in the glare thrown out by the fire, something moving in
the darkness beyond the perimeter. Through the shimmering sheets of
heat loosed by the fire he could see it lumbering
 
The WaMscfNm slowly like a colossal beast, a dark shape which seemed to
form itself out of the darkness surrounding it.
 
"Look yonder there across the way," he whispered to Toli. Quentin did
not know why he had bothered to whisper their guards were not even
making a show of watching them. They had given themselves over to the
festivities of their comrades, though they still sat at their posts,
longing to join in the turmoil.
 
"What is it? I cannot make it out."
 
Wait, it is coming closer." No sooner had Quentin finished speaking
than the creature emerged from its dark captivity into the roiling
circle of light. It loomed large in (he dancing light, the glow of the
flames glittering on its hideous black skin. It was a creature of
terrible beauty, awful and tremendous; it looked a very denizen of
Heoth's forsaken underworld, a thing distilled out of a thousand
nightmares. And it came lurching out of the forest into the midst of