They continued on their way, heading northeast across the empty countryside. Keeping the dark edge of the forest a few miles to their right, they rode through long-abandoned fields divided by crumbling stone walls and hedgerows, and a little before noon the next day they spotted the walls and rooftops of Hillsfar. Geran allowed himself a long sigh of relief; Myth Drannor’s agents might soon learn where they’d gone, but taking them into custody would be another matter altogether-the city’s authorities would never permit the elves to arrest fugitives who hadn’t broken any Hillsfarian laws. Geran and his friends went to the city’s docks and booked passage on the first vessel bound for Thentia, then returned to the city’s mercantile district to sell their mounts and await their sailing in a comfortable inn.
With a day and a half to pass before their ship sailed, Sarth retired to one of the inn’s private rooms and made a careful study of their Infiernadex fragment, something he’d been unable to do during their brief rests during the flight from Myth Drannor. Geran left him to it for several hours, busying himself with several minor errands around the city. When he returned, he found Sarth busily copying the fragment to fresh parchment.
“What have you learned from Aesperus’s spellbook?” Geran asked him.
“First of all, it is not Aesperus’s spellbook,” Sarth answered. “Rather, it is an older spellbook that was in Aesperus’s possession for a time. Much of what I know about the complete manuscript comes from the writings of mages who had an opportunity to examine the tome before it fell into Aesperus’s hands. That is what led me to Hulburg in the first place. In any event, the Infiernadex is the work of one of my forebears from ancient Narfell, recording several rituals and spells not found anywhere else. Many of those are diabolic in nature, and too dangerous even for one of my blood to wield safely. Others are simply rare and powerful; those I hoped to master.” The tiefling managed an awkward shrug. “I have spent most of my life in search of greater command over the arcane arts. Perhaps I have not given much thought to the question of what I intend to do with such power once I hold it.”
“You’ve chosen to save Hulburg at least two or three times in the last few months. That seems a good use for the power you wield.” Geran looked over Sarth’s shoulder at the cryptic pages spread out before him. They meant little to him; he’d been schooled in the elven tradition of magic, and the Infiernadex was based on another tradition, written in another language altogether. Even if he could read it, it might not make much sense to him. “Can we safely give it to Aesperus?” he asked.
The sorcerer looked down at the old parchment, thinking. “Yes,” he finally said. “I am not happy about the prospect, but I’ve learned all I can from this. What does it matter if this knowledge is perilous? Aesperus is a perilous power already. But I must warn you, Geran, that the day may come when the King in Copper must be dealt with.”
“I hear you,” Geran replied. He set a hand on Sarth’s shoulder, and left the sorcerer to finish copying the manuscript.
They sailed for Thentia aboard an Iron Ring tradesman the next day. The crossing was much easier than their last one; the westerly winds were on their quarter instead of their bow, which made for a swifter and easier trip. On the evening of the 6th of Ches, the ninth day since their escape from the coronal’s tower, Geran and his companions set foot in Thentia again. For the first time in a tenday he allowed himself to believe that he wouldn’t spend the next decade or two as a prisoner in Myth Drannor, and began to breathe easier.
They hired a coach to drive them out to Lasparhall, and arrived in the Hulmasters’ manor an hour after sunset. Geran was pleased to see that things looked much as he’d left them. He allowed the guards at the door to relieve him and his friends of their sparse baggage, and went straight to the family’s private hall to see if anything remained of dinner. While the three of them helped themselves to a late supper laid out by the kitchen staff, Kara Hulmaster appeared in the doorway. The Hulmaster captain threw off the heavy mantle she wore over her armored shoulders and hurried in to catch Geran in a bone-cracking hug. “Geran!” she cried. “I was worried about you. Where have you been?”
“Well met, Kara,” he replied. “We landed in Thentia a couple of hours ago. As for the delay, well, I’m afraid we ran into some difficulties in Myth Drannor.”
“We managed to get pinched, he means,” Hamil said. “We spent a charming seven days as guests of the coronal before escaping her jail and absenting ourselves from the realm as quickly as possible. Fortunately Geran had friends willing to help spring us free, or we’d be there still.”
“I should have known that you’d find trouble wherever you went.” Kara released Geran and moved on to Hamil, leaning down to give him a warm embrace before moving on to take Sarth’s hand. “Did you find the tome that Aesperus asked you to retrieve?”
The swordmage nodded. “Yes, we’ve got it.” He glanced out the window; the evening was already well on. “I’ll go out on the Highfells and summon him tomorrow night. We’re tired from days of hard travel, and I want to be well rested and clearheaded when we speak again, just in case there’s some misunderstanding. But right now I need a hot meal and a few hours of sleep in a warm bed before I do anything else.”
“That much I think we can provide,” Kara said with a smile. “It’s good to have you back, Geran. All three of you, in truth. It seems that every time I turn around there’s something else that needs the Hulmaster’s attention, and while you’ve been away, that’s been me.”
“How are things proceeding here?” Geran asked. “Any more trouble with spies or assassins from Hulburg?”
“Some trouble with spies. We’ve caught a few of Rhovann’s creatures lurking about. And I suspect that some of the drivers and provisioners in Thentia are paid to report on what they see of our encampment or hear from our soldiers.”
That didn’t surprise Geran. There were simply too many keen-eyed folk in and around Thentia who wouldn’t think twice about taking a few coins to tell stories. He hadn’t really imagined that he’d be able to keep all their preparations secret from Marstel and Rhovann. “Will we be ready to march when we planned?”
Kara hesitated. “We’re as ready as we can be, I suppose. Another month of drilling and stockpiling supplies wouldn’t hurt, but it would sorely stretch our treasury and we’d lose some of our sellswords. But there’s troubling news from Hulburg. I’ve heard reports that Marstel’s struck a bargain with the Warlock Knights. He’s granted the Vaasans a trading concession, and it’s rumored that strong companies of armsmen will soon arrive from Vaasa to reinforce his Council Guard.”
“The Warlock Knights?” Geran muttered. The Vaasans had allied themselves with the Bloody Skull orcs a year previous. He’d briefly dueled a Warlock Knight in the Battle of Lendon’s Dike, trading blows with the human sorcerer before the tide of battle had swept them apart. And there’d been plenty of stories of Vaasan magic playing a crucial role in the orcs’ attack on the town of Glister at the northern margin of Thar. The Warlock Knights had disappeared quickly enough once the threat of the Bloody Skull horde had been smashed, and as far as Geran knew they’d played no role in the Black Moon troubles or the Cinderfist unrest … or had they? Had his traitorous cousin Sergen sold out Hulburg to the Vaasans after he’d failed to sell out the town to the merchant lords of Melvaunt and Mulmaster? “What’s their concern in this?”
“If you’re asking for my guess, I’d say that they put the Cyricists up to their mischief with the Cinderfists,” Kara answered. “Before we were driven out of Hulburg, I’d turned up a few hints that the priests of Cyric were paid in Vaasan gold, but I never caught them at it. The Black Moon troubles drew all of my attention. What exactly they hope to gain from meddling in Hulburg, I couldn’t say.”