“The two of you will be released immediately.” He spun about and took a few steps, stopping abruptly and looking back to catch Varek’s gaze. “You’ve a good woman, son. Take care of her. I’ll arrange for a wagon and a horse. And I’ll leave you with some small bit of the treasure we confiscated to help you on your way. A sack of coins—” he paused—“and a peg leg or two.” The commander gestured at Varek’s stump. “You’ll be able to use them when the swelling goes down. I trust you’ll use the wagon to take yourself and your, er, wife back to your father’s estate.”
Silence filled the jail after the last of Commander Lawlor’s footfalls faded.
* * * * *
Varek and Riki left without another word. For a long, long time Dhamon continued to stare at their empty cell.
“At least she’s safe and away from here.” This came from Maldred, who’d managed to shake off enough of the drug so he could stand up and lean against the bars. He tried to budge them. “These could hold an elephant.”
Dhamon shook his head.
“You wouldn’t have wanted her to die with us, would you?” Maldred said. He kept his eyes closed.
“No, I wouldn’t have wanted that.”
“With luck, we won’t die either.” Maldred eased himself down on the floor again, shoulder leaning against the bars, fingers splayed in the dirt.
“You’ve got some magic left?”
Maldred looked up to be sure there wasn’t a guard within sight. “A little, I think. I felt it returning before they made me drink that… concoction.” He closed his eyes and bent his head forward, his mane of white hair falling across his face. Then he softly hummed. Long minutes later, the manacles fell from Maldred’s wrists and ankles, too large for his human body. Maldred moved the chains away and rubbed at his ankles. Then he took a deep breath and returned his hands to the floor. He dug his fingertips into the earth and began chanting. Maldred had managed to create a hole almost big enough for him to squeeze through when Commander Lawlor returned with a quartet of Legion Knights.
“Time to die,” Lawlor announced, his eyes gleaming with pleasure when he saw that Maldred had shed his ogre-form.
Dhamon and Maldred were roughly ushered from their cells and down the hall, out to where a small crowd of Knights and townsfolk had gathered around the gallows. Back in the jail, Ragh finally groaned and opened his eyes, looking around to wonder where Maldred and Dhamon were.
* * * * *
“Dhamon Grimwulf,” Commander Lawlor began. “You have been sentenced to die for the burning of an entire town, for theft and mayhem in a hospital, for crimes committed against the Legion of Steel, and for various offenses committed against residents of Khur and no doubt other places.”
“May his soul rot in the Abyss!” a townsman cried as Dhamon was ushered up on the platform and the noose fitted around his neck.
“Burn them!” another shouted. “Hanging is too kind for thieves!”
“Maldred the ogre,” Lawlor continued, speaking over the jeers of the crowd, “for those crimes which I have listed, you also will share blame and hang.”
Suddenly a Legion Knight ran toward the gallows, shouting, trying to force his way through the crowd.
“Wait!” the Knight cried. “Stop!”
The Knight executioner paid no heed. At a nod from Lawlor, he pulled a lever. The floor of the gallows dropped from beneath Maldred’s and Dhamon’s feet.
In the next instant several things happened.
Maldred released the enchantment that gave him his human form. His larger, and much heavier ogre body, was too much for the rope, and it broke, spilling him to the ground. Dhamon began to suffocate. He flailed about like a desperate man, then decided that he should accept his fate of execution. It would end his misery from the scale. He relaxed and felt the rope tighten.
The shouting Knight finally made his way through the crowd and jumped on the platform. He raised his sword and sliced at Dhamon’s rope. “Stop this!” he yelled in a hoarse voice. Knight Commander Lawlor had been enjoying the execution and didn’t appreciate the interruption. He fumbled angrily at his waist for his sword. He sputtered at the Knight who had released Dhamon and who was now helping him up onto the platform.
“You, stop!” a red-faced Lawlor bellowed. “Insubordination!” He turned to a group of Knights behind him. “Get them! Get all three!”
The men rushed forward, freezing when they heard a shrill scream behind them. Wheeling as one, they saw the thatched roof of the jail burst into flames.
Lawlor directed a few of his men to the jail to put out the fire, while the rest he ordered in pursuit of Maldred and Dhamon and the strange Knight, who were running pell-mell away from the gallows. With a loud roar the gallows burst into flames, forcing the crowd and the Legion Knights back. Another roar and Wheatland’s stables also burned merrily.
“Stop them!” Lawlor screamed, as he, too, tried to gave chase.
Maldred chanted as he ran, pulling all the magic from his body he could collect, directing that energy in the form of fire at building after building, burning Wheatland as they had burned the town in Khur some months ago. He chuckled deeply.
“Like old times, my friend,” he shouted to Dhamon, who was running next to him. Dhamon did not reply. In amazement he watched the running Knight at their side transform into the sivak Ragh.
“Just like old times,” Maldred repeated.
It was an hour before they could pause to catch their breath, hiding in an earthen cave Maldred had created with his magic. He left an opening so they could watch the dozen Knights searching the area.
Dawn painted the sky pink before Maldred had regained enough strength to cast another spell.
“Like the good, old times,” he said. He hummed, fingers twirling in the air as he adopted his human guise once again.
“Aye,” Dhamon said. “Old times, but not good ones. Running from Legion of Steel Knights.”
“Running and thieving.” The sivak tossed Dhamon a coin purse that had been on the guard he’d killed, whose form he had assumed. He threw the sword to the ground. “Your lives are… interesting,” Ragh said.
Dhamon brushed the dirt from his tattered clothes, feeling the scales on his leg. “And hopeless. We’ve no enchanted map and no chance of finding the healer now.”
Maldred stretched and arched his back, turning first one way and then the next. “There’s always hope, Dhamon. I swore I’d help you find a cure. You’re as dear as any brother, and I won’t let you down. We don’t need the map any longer. I think I know where we need to go.”
He studied the horizon to the east. “I don’t think we should risk staying around here. I’ll wager they’ll be putting up more and bigger posters soon—maybe sending out an army.”
Dhamon smiled sadly at that thought.
“Shall we?” Maldred pointed northwest, then struck out in that direction at a brisk pace. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Dhamon was coming.
“Very interesting,” Ragh repeated, following a few yards behind.
Chapter Nineteen
Hidden Strengths
The town that spread out below them was a scabrous ruin. Most of the buildings had collapsed. The few that were relatively intact were stunted stone towers—the sides of which had been blackened as if by some great fire. These were spaced along what passed for the main street. Rocky spires rose amid piles of rubble, like jagged teeth aimed menacingly at the sky. Marble statues looked as though they were broken and melted, more resembling monsters than the men who long ago had been important to this place.
Shapes flew about the spires, and Dhamon realized they were black dragonspawn. A few were perched on the sides of the tallest buildings, while some walked through the littered streets, shoving people out of their way. A streak of silver moved among the highest-flying spawn: a sivak. Dhamon noticed that Ragh watched it with envy.