“Lucy is going to have a fit!” he exclaimed. “Notwen, I must go.”
The gnome started at the man’s outburst. “But why? If you are hungry, I will fix a meal. I keep food in a small pantry here. There is no need to go yet.”
“Yes, there is! My friends don’t know where I am, and I have been gone all day. One in particular will be very angry.”
Notwen’s small face creased in thought. Gnomes were often too busy to worry about social and personal obligations, but Notwen had met Lucy. “Ah, the Sorceress. It would not be right to anger her. Will she allow you to return?”
The irony of his simple question did not escape Ulin. While he deeply respected Lucy’s abilities as a mage, he had always been the one in the forefront: the son of Palin Majere, the assistant director of the Academy of Sorcery, one of the few dragon mages on Krynn. People had come to him for help and advice. They had looked up to him. Now most of that was gone, and by a strange twist, he was being called “Friend of the Sorceress” and treated as her bodyguard or shadow. He didn’t know whether to laugh or bury his head in his arms and weep. He was not an envious man by nature, and he would never begrudge Lucy the honors she deserved, yet the changes in his life had left him raw and badly shaken.
Keeping careful control of his voice, he thanked Notwen for his hospitality and accepted an invitation to return, then he hurried up the wooden stairs and crawled out into the fading light of evening.
A vigilante hurrying toward the slab almost stepped on his fingers. “Ulin!” he gasped. “I’m on watch tonight. I saw a patrol of Dark Knights ride into town, so be on your guard. They’re Malys’s men, very unpredictable.” Before Ulin could reply, the guard shouted down the stone hole. “Notwen! Knights in town!”
Ulin backed away as the machinery began to grind. The stone slowly dropped into place with an echoing boom. By the time he looked up, the guard had returned to his post, and he was alone on the windy rock. He kicked some dirt over the cracks between the stone until the slab was indistinguishable from the others. If he hadn’t seen the block with his own eyes, he would never guess the entrance was there. He couldn’t wait to tell Lucy about the laboratory-once she got over being mad at him.
He took a quick survey of the town while he hurried down the path. Dusk cast a heavy gloom over the weather-beaten old buildings, but everything seemed normal. The taverns and pleasure houses were crowded, the market was nearly deserted, and the city hall was dark. Lights glowed in the windows of houses and tenements, and columns of smoke rose from dozens of kitchen fires to drift west into the grasslands on the wind from the sea. There was no sign of the Knights’ patrol. Ulin hoped fervently he could reach the Jetties and get out of sight before he was spotted. He did not want to risk a confrontation with the Knights of Neraka.
All too soon he discovered his wish was in vain, for when he approached the ramshackle old inn his hope sunk into dismay. Five saddled horses stood tied to the inn’s hitching post. Each one wore a skull-shaped brand of the Dark Knights on its hip. Although the front door stood open and lamps were lit, no one was in sight, and the inn was strangely silent.
A commotion rose out of the walled stable yard to the rear. Ulin could hear the nervous clatter of a horse’s iron-shod hooves on the stone paving and the shouting of angry voices. One of the voices was Lucy’s. Ulin broke into a run toward the door.
Without warning a small figure pelted out of a side entrance and slammed into Ulin’s stomach, knocking the air from his lungs.
“Oh, it’s you!” squeaked Pease. “Ulin! You must come. The Knights have arrested Lucy.”
CHAPTER NINE
His first inclination was to burst into the courtyard and start laying about with his sword until Lucy was free and all those who dared touch her were dead. Fortunately, his common sense prevailed.
He snatched the kender’s tunic and hauled him into the concealing shadows of the side door. “How many Knights are there? What did they arrest her for? Where is Challie?”
Pease, trembling, tried to answer all the questions at once with a tangle of words. Ulin had to shake him again to rattle some sense back into his head.
“There are two Knights holding Lucy in the courtyard. The other three threw everyone out of the common room and are searching the inn.” Pease’s words tumbled out. “Challie’s with Lucy in the yard. I was sent to look for you.”
“But what did they arrest her for?” Ulin demanded to know.
“Horse stealing. They found her horse in the stable, and that snitch of a groom told them whose it was.”
Ulin muttered a few words that caused Pease to gape at him. “Is there another way into the courtyard besides the gate?” he asked.
In reply Pease took his sleeve and led him around the inn. Ulin caught a glimpse through a window into the empty common room and saw two of the Knights kicking over tables and passing a jug back and forth. He ducked down behind Pease and followed the kender through a shrubby patch of gardenias into an alley behind the stable.
It was nearly dark by that time. Dense shadows filled the alley, hiding the refuse piles and the rats that scattered among the trash and old debris. The kender cautiously picked his way along the alley to a postern gate set in the wall that surrounded the stable yard.
“Master Aylesworthy likes to keep this locked,” Pease whispered, “but I haul manure out here, and I often forget to lock it up again.”
From the powerful smell and the feel of the ground beneath his boots, Ulin could easily believe the part about the manure. He held his breath as Pease tried the door handle. It turned quietly, and the postern opened.
The kender stuck out his arm to stop Ulin from hurrying in. Wordlessly, he put his finger to his lips then pointed to his right and waved a hand.
Together they slipped into the courtyard and, moving right, slid unseen behind a pile of straw bales under an old, sagging plank roof. They peered around the bales and saw Lucy, Challie, and two guards standing in a pool of light that poured out of the open inn door. A very nervous and embarrassed groom held the halter of the big bay draft horse.
Ulin’s stomach muscles twisted into knots. Lucy appeared unhurt, but she stood between the two Knights as rigid as a lance, her face flushed with outrage. Her clothes had been mussed, and her hair fell unbound over her shoulders.
The Knights wore dented breastplates marked with the death lily of Takhisis and a strange red emblem Ulin could not identify in the dim light. Scraps of armor covered their arms and legs. He noticed their trappings looked worn and battered, and he thought if they were truly attached to Malys’s unit, then she did not keep them well attired. They were, however, well armed. Each Knight bore a short sword, an axe, and a dagger, and one had a crossbow slung across his back.
Ulin’s hand tightened around his sword hilt. For once, he was at a loss about what to do. He had no armor or reinforcements and only one sword. If he could even approach the two Knights without endangering Lucy, the first clash of weapons in the courtyard would bring the other three running, and Ulin was not fool enough to believe he could successfully take on five highly trained soldiers. He understood, too, the danger he could bring on the townspeople of Flotsam. The Dark Knights and their mistress would not overlook a deliberate attack made on one of their patrols, and their retaliation could be deadly.
Ulin shifted nervously. He needed an idea, and he needed one now.
Something moved to his right. He eased back from the straw bales and saw several forms slide through the postern gate and position themselves in shadowed hiding places.
Pease put his mouth close to Ulin’s ear. “Cosmo went for help. Wait and see what happens. Do you think she’ll use her magic?”