“Sir Remmik, sit down. The food is not poisoned or drugged. I will not harm you. I only intend to talk to you.”
The Knight lifted one eyebrow. “I have not bowed to your tortures. I will not bow to your blandishments. By our Oath and Measure I cannot cooperate with you.”
“Really? Others have. I just assumed these oaths of yours were mere… guidelines.”
Sir Remmik recoiled as if insulted. “Who has cooperated with you? Tell me their names!”
The Akkad-Ur gave a cold chuckle. Carefully, reverently, he removed the golden mask of his office, laid it on a stand, and turned barefaced to look at the Knight.
Sir Remmik’s eyes narrowed. Without the gold mask, the Tarmak looked much like the others. His features were sharply aquiline, framed by long gray hair and thick gray eyebrows. His eyes stared back with a piercing intensity and intelligence that Sir Remmik found rather disconcerting in a barbarian. Yet without the mask, the Akkad-Ur seemed more… human… more approachable. Radiating caution, he walked around the table and sat down across from the Akkad-Ur. He kept his hands on his knees and touched nothing.
The Akkad-Ur poured the hot liquid into the cups, inhaling the powerful spicy scent of kefre. “I have taken a liking to this beverage. I don’t know why. You could polish armor with it. But it has a certain body. My cook heats some for me in the morning and keeps it hot through the day.” He pushed a cup toward Sir Remmik, who ignored it.
Leaning back in his seat, the Tarmak swallowed a long drink. “There are meat rolls, olives, cheese. It is a simple meal for the trail, but better than you’ve had for a while. Eat.”
The Knight sat stonily in his seat, his face set in grim lines. His eyes strayed to the bronze dragon crouching a hundred feet away, out of earshot. He could not see the barb that kept the dragon imprisoned with the Tarmaks, but he saw the effects every time the dragon tried to move his front quarters. It obviously pained him.
“I have a task I would like you to perform for me,” the Akkad-Ur said.
“No.” Sir Remmik’s tone was harder than steel.
The Akkad-Ur took a bite of his roll, chewed and swallowed before he replied. “You do not know what I want you to do.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It might matter to the people of Duntollik. You have seen our army in battle, and you know some of what we are capable of doing. I would like you to go to the leaders of Duntollik and ask for their surrender.”
Sir Remmik leaped to his feet. Disbelief and anger warred for his self-control. Resisting the impulse to leap on the Tarmak and strangle him, the Knight turned his back on the Akkad-Ur and crossed his arms, the figure of adamant. “I will not betray an innocent people.”
The Tarmak sighed. “I am not asking you to betray them. I am asking you to tell them the truth, that we are coming and that we will destroy their homes and villages if they do not surrender to us. You know we can do it. You know we will do it. If you can persuade them to surrender, you will be saving many lives.”
“You would have to let me go,” Sir Remmik said without turning around. “What makes you think I would obey your orders?”
The Akkad-Ur gave a dry laugh. “Someone else asked me how he could trust my word. Well, Sir Knight, I have learned enough about you to be confident that if you gave me your word that you would deliver my ultimatum to Duntollik. I could trust you to do so.” He drank some more of his kef re and went on. “I have messages for you to carry. I will give you horses and three of your Knights to accompany you, and I expect you to take them to the leaders of the people of Duntollik. What you do after that is up to you.”
“What about the rest of my men?” Sir Remmik demanded.
“They will stay with us. If you care to return with a reply, I will consider releasing all of you. There are hardly enough Knights left to pose a serious threat to my army.”
Remmik tried to hide a grimace at the reminder of his missing Knights. Slowly he turned to face the Akkad-Ur. His face was red under the sweat and the stubble of a gray beard. For a long, painful run of minutes he stared into the distance while his mind worked over the possible traps and pitfalls of such an offer. The Tarmak silently ate his meal and waited.
Finally Sir Remmik’s eyes focused on Crucible again. The dragon had not moved and still sat staring north in the direction of Sanction. The Knight’s brow lowered. Tight lines settled around his nose and mouth. “Sir, if I may ask, do you know where the militia is?”
“Most of them are headed for Duntollik,” the Akkad-Ur answered. His eyes bored into the Solamnic, but Sir Remmik did not flinch or even seem to notice.
“I see.” The Knight stood for another minute, his thin frame as unbending as an oak tree. At last he sighed a long breath of resignation. “I will go,” he said. “My only wish is to bring order to this troubled realm. On my word as a Solamnic Knight, I will deliver your message. I will not guarantee that they listen to it.”
“Agreed.”
The Akkad-Ur sent the proper orders to his subordinates and with pleased graciousness offered a seat and food to the Knight once again.
Once again Sir Remmik refused it. “If I may, I will wait with my men for your horses and your messages.” At the Akkad-Ur’s dismissive wave, he started to leave, but his steps were slow as if he fought an internal debate that dragged at his intentions. He stopped in a decisive movement that set the Tarmak guards’ hands to their weapons.
Ah, thought the Akkad-Ur, the bait has finally been taken.
“If I may ask,” Sir Remmik said slowly, “were your people involved in the ambush of our Knights the night of the storm before your invasion?”
“We sent a small party of warriors who volunteered to enter the city early, yes. And yes, they were the ones who killed the honor guard.”
There was a pause, then the Knight went on. “Did you have inside information? An informant?”
“Of course. We could not have taken the city so easily without someone on the inside. She’s been feeding us information for over a year. Even now she is on her way to gather more valuable information on Duntollik.”
Sir Remmik’s lean face paled and he looked truly pained. “And the Wadi?”
The Akkad-Ur laughed a rough, patronizing sound of derision. “Why do you think only the Solamnic Knights were captured and everyone else was slain?”
The Knight Commander obviously reached his own conclusion, for he stepped back, storm clouds building behind his gray eyes. He forced a slight bow and turned on his heel. The guards hurried to catch up with him.
The Akkad-Ur watched him go, satisfied with the interview. His informant thought the Knight would certainly lead their trackers to this woman and possibly bring her back as a hostage to save the other Knights. But after looking into Sir Remmik’s eyes and seeing the red rage within, he felt sure the Knight would not hesitate to impose his own Solamnic justice. He had better warn the warriors sent to trail the Knights to be on the alert.
Dreams and Arrows
18
Linsha. A voice whispered her name over the rustle of the flowing river. She did not hear the voice as much as feel it caress her mind.
Startled, she sat up straighter, for the voice sounded familiar. Her eyes scanned the riverbank to her left and right, but she saw no one in the heavy gloom. This was a night of a dark moon, a night of dense shadows and velvet darkness. The only light came from overhead where the stars glittered in brilliant clusters, freed from the moon that often stole their fragile light. Around her insects hummed in the grass and on the river, a mist was rising from the water, pale and ethereal, reflecting the distant starlight.