"We've rested long enough. Let's make those torches and keep looking for Anvil's bridge."
Sharessa was the first to spot it. She said nothing at first, afraid that the shadows were playing tricks with her eyes. But the shadows had always been friends to her, and as they drew closer, she saw that her first impression had been right.
There it is," she said, pointing. A slender bridge arched across the ravine ahead. Below, the waters roared as the river narrowed. White spumes glinted in the moonlight, far below.
"Strange place for a bridge," said Belgin as they came closer. Indeed, there was no discernable path on this side, yet the bridge itself looked well tended.
"Weird looking, too," said Rings. He was right, thought Sharessa. The bridge looked as smooth as alabaster in the moonlight, thin and delicate where it arched over the ravine. At either side stood ornate archways of spiky, twisting designs that reminded Sharessa of no culture she had ever seen.
"Wait," said Belmer. "I don't like this." He paused in thought a moment, then said, "It's a trap. We go around it."
"Don't be a fool," cried Turbalt. Sharessa wished that the stupid little man would keep his mouth shut. "It's our only way of getting away from this… this thing."
"Then you cross first," said Belmer icily. Without waiting for Turbalt's reply, he waved the party on. Everyone followed, including Turbalt after a sputtering pause.
"Not that I don't trust you," said Rings. "But what makes you think that bridge is a trap?"
"You saw it. No man ever designed that bridge," Belmer replied. "It was more a fiend's idea of a bridge."
"Illusion?"
"I'm sure of it. The fiend must know we're expecting a bridge, so it made one for us. It'll probably ambush us as we start to cross."
"There is a bridge around here, somewhere," said Anvil. "But I agree, that's not it."
"So glad to have your approval," said Belmer. Sharessa thought there was more humor than threat in the man's voice this time, but Anvil shut up.
"Well walk up to the bridge, as if we were going to cross it. When I give the signal, run past," said Belmer. "Rings and Brindra, you guard the rear." Sharessa heard the jingle of Ring's nod and Brindra's indifferent grunt.
They walked toward the strange bridge, not so slowly that they looked suspicious, but not so fast that they couldn't retreat. As they came within ten yards of the queer archway, Sharessa watched for a sign from Belmer. When they had almost reached the bridge, his sword appeared in one hand, and he snapped, "Run!"
They sprinted like athletes on a track, heads low but faces forward, their weapons gripped tightly as batons. Rings and Brindra hung back, but not by far. Belmer lingered behind with Anvil, who still carried Ingrar's unconscious body.
Sharessa ran until her lungs burned. What strength she had kept after the Morning Bird sank had melted with the heat. Beside her, Turbalt puffed loudly. The little man could run much faster than she had expected.
"Look," called Belmer. They all slowed, then stopped. Sharessa turned to see Belmer pointing back toward the bridge. Its pale form melted away to show an empty space between the ravine's sides.
"Still want to cross there?" Sharessa asked Turbalt. The fat man gave her a black look before returning his gaze to the ground.
They regrouped, anxious to move away from the failed ambush.
"The fiend is getting clumsy," said Belgin. They walked close together again, ringed in lamp- and torchlight.
"No," corrected Belmer. "It's learning. It won't make the same mistake again."
"You sound as if you admire the thing," said Sharessa.
"What's not to admire?" said Belmer. "Imagine an army of them, if you could control them."
"Aye, but that's the problem, isn't it?" Rings walked with his enchanted axe ready.
"It's that sort of thinking that brought them here in the first place," said Sharessa. "If it weren't for the bloodforges, there wouldn't be any fiends in Doegan."
"Bloodforges?" asked Belmer.
"They are what give the rulers of the Five Kingdoms their power," said Sharessa. "Great magical artifacts that create armies."
Belmer halted for a moment and stared intently at her. "Are you serious?"
"Oh, yes. If it weren't for the bloodforges, I think, Doegan would control the entire region."
"Or the Fallen Temple would," said Anvil. His voice was even more hoarse than usual, Sharessa thought. The strain of carrying Ingrar was wearing him down. "The emperor is the only thing that keeps the Temple in check."
"Emperor," chuckled Belgin derisively. "He's no greater than the others, a petty king warring for land."
"And who else will protect us from the fiends?" retorted Brindra. She and Anvil were both from Doegan. "Surely not the shepherds of Edenvale."
"Hey!" interjected Ingrar weakly. The others stopped arguing at once, all eyes on their wounded companion. He murmured some protest about the bravery of Edenvalers before Anvil made him drink some water. The wounded youth sipped a few drops and returned to sleep.
"Tell me more about this Fallen Temple," said Belmer.
"It's a corrupted order based on one of the old gods the Ffolk brought over centuries ago," said Sharessa. "People say that the Fallen Temple brings the fiends into this world."
"That's not it," said Rings. "It's the bloodforges themselves. The more the kings use them, the more fiends come."
"It is true that the bloodforges are dangerous," said Anvil slowly. "They curse whoever uses them, and all their people." He pulled open his shirt to expose his ribs to the torchlight. Paint, piscine scales covered his flesh. "Most Ffolk in Doegan bear signs similar to this. Some even are born with gills."
"Interesting," commented Belmer. He leaned forward and brushed his fingertips lightly against the scales, then drew back.
"That's nothing," said Brindra. She fanned her fingers open to show that they were webbed up to the first knuckle. "Everyone in Eldrinpar and many who live nearby show some sign of the sea."
"The emperor of Doegan hasn't shown his face in public since before I was born," added Anvil. "They say it's because he's become like a fiend himself."
"Still, no ruler will stop using a bloodforge," said Belgin. "It's the only way to defend your kingdom when the enemy is using one. No ordinary army can stand against the creatures made by a blood-forge."
"Where does the emperor keep this bloodforge?" asked Belmer.
"Probably in the palace in Eldrinpar," said Anvil. "No one has ever seen it."
"That makes sense," nodded Belmer. "What do they look like?"
"Who knows?" said Sharessa. "But they're said to be big."
"Interesting," said Belmer again. "I can think of some in Faerun who would pay a great deal for such a thing." His eyes found the invisible distance of thought and observed it for a while. Then he nodded for Anvil to pick up Ingrar again, and they resumed their journey.
They walked a while in silence, and Sharessa wondered what Belmer was thinking. Surely he wasn't planning to steal a bloodforge for himself.
When she had said they were big, she'd meant vast, huge. She'd heard that the emperor of Doegan had built his palace around the bloodforge, though she wasn't sure that was true. Centuries-old stories spoke of thousands of Mar slaves dragging bloodforges on gigantic sledges when one had to be moved.
Still, Belmer seemed fascinated both by the fiends and by the bloodforges. Sharessa wondered just how ambitious he was. Would he abandon the job at hand for an opportunity to steal one?
It was a ridiculous thought, Sharessa knew. Even if he could manage to locate the bloodforge of Doegan, it was inconceivable that he could steal it. Just the question of transporting the thing half a world away, to Faerun-it was ludicrous!