Bravado, decided Lan, not answering the obvious challenge. The politics of the world did not interest him; finding and defeating Claybore was all that mattered.
" What do you know of a tongue?"
" A tongue?" From the manner in which Noratumi stiffened and moved his hand closer to his sheathed dagger, Lan knew he had touched a sore point with the man. As loath as he was to anger Noratumi, he had to find out quickly about the tongue Claybore so eagerly sought. That it was in this world Alberto Silvain had accidentally revealed; that the search went poorly for Claybore was also obvious. Lan Martak desired to aid any enemy of Claybore.
" Claybore seeks his tongue on this world," spoke up Inyx, increasingly uneasy at the tension between Lan and Jacy. " We would destroy it." Lan watched Noratumi' s reaction and failed to understand the complex flood of emotions.
" Iron Tongue," was all the man said, then spun and stalked off, his knuckles white around the hilt of his sword.
" What produced such a reaction in our temporary ally?" asked Krek. The spider shook himself before burrowing down in a sandy patch and rubbing the last traces of gore from his legs. " He appears not to trust us. And after all we have done for him. Humph."
" You' re right," said Inyx. " This world aligns itself strangely. The woman was frightened of you, not because of your size, but simply because you were a spider.”
" All humans have this weakness. I cannot understand it myself. After all, we spiders do not instantly fear all humans. In fact, in less enlightened times, I rather enjoyed catching them in the high passes and feeding on them." The spider gusted a loud sigh. " Those were such pleasant times. But unenlightened, as I said."
Lan ignored his friend' s bout with nostalgia.
" The more interesting response came when Inyx mentioned Claybore' s tongue. Noratumi knows of it."
" Or," put in Inyx, " where that information can be had." Her eyes followed Jacy Noratumi as the man went from wounded to wounded, shaking his head from time to time and always trying to comfort even those with no hope of survival.
Lan Martak felt himself pulled inside as he watched her. That Inyx was attracted to Jacy was indisputable. Noratumi fought well, cut a fine, handsome figure of a man, and had an air about him that belied the obvious hard times he and his band had fallen on. None of this made the young adventurer feel any better. Lan was tired of fighting, tired of turning and seeing Claybore' s men seemingly multiply even as he cut them down, tired to the bone of the magics that turned him into something other than he desired.
" Margora is dead," came Noratumi' s quiet words. Lan snapped out of his stupor to stare at the man. While the simple sentence carried no inflection, the emotion underlying it ran as deep and clear as any spring- swollen river.
" You loved her?" asked Inyx.
" A warrior second to none, she was," he said. " Her loss will be sorely felt for a great, long time. But you do not need to hear of our sorrow. What do you do in this place? The Oasis of Billro is off the caravan paths normally taken- at least it is since the grey- clads destroyed Xas and Clorren last year."
" We walk the Cenotaph Road, fighting Claybore." Lan didn' t wish to reveal more than he had to. While Noratumi opposed Claybore, mutual enemies did not instantly mean they were allies.
" So does Iron Tongue, and look at how he and the empire of Bron fight."
" Iron Tongue?" asked Inyx, too eagerly for Lan' s comfort. He tried to silence her, to tell her that Noratumi ought not learn too much of their quest. He failed; the woman was intent on pursuing the meaning behind the name.
" He is sorcerer- leader of the city- state Wurnna."
" And he enslaves your people."
" He forces us to work in the power stone mines! Curse him! Curse all sorcerers." Noratumi' s eyes bored into Lan' s. It took the youth' s full control learned through the myriad battles with Claybore not to flinch under the burning, accusing intensity of that stare. " Though you do not appear to be of Iron Tongue' s ilk, you claim kinship."
" I claim nothing. I am not much of a sorcerer."
" That is true. He isn' t much of a mage, but he learns," cut in Krek. " Why, he cannot conjure up even the simplest of meals. A grub or two would be appreciated now. Or mayhaps even a large worm. Nothing fancy, mind you, but certainly something adequate for a poor spider' s meal."
" I learn magics because fighting Claybore requires it." Lan' s hand moved slowly upward until it laid over the hidden grimoire he had received on a mountaintop on a world many grave markers distant. That dying mage had entrusted the secret of creating the cenotaph roadway to Lan- and placed on him the burden of pursuing and defeating Claybore. What one mage had failed at, another must accomplish. Lan Martak had been given that task.
" You do swing a sword over- well to be any necromancer I am acquainted with. Iron Tongue would never callus his hands with work," Noratumi observed. Again came the intense hatred boiling from the man like froth from a cauldron. Noratumi whirled around and said, " This eight- legged horror offends my people, who have had relatives and friends eaten by those of his kind in the mountains. You are a sorcerer and the empire of Bron is at war with Wurnna."
" But we all fight the grey- clad armies," cut in Inyx. She moved to Noratumi' s side and placed her hand on his upper arm. " Let us join forces," she implored. " We are stronger united than fighting one another. Claybore is the enemy. Let us fight him and not each other."
Lan closed his eyes and allowed his small magical sense to expand outward. Inyx' s spell was more subtle, more human than any he had learned from a grimoire, but that didn' t stop it from being effective. He " felt" Jacy Noratumi' s resolve against them softening just as he and Krek " felt" the presence of a cenotaph pathway between worlds. Inyx continued to ply the man with honeyed words until he curtly agreed that they might accompany him and his remaining people back to Bron.
After Noratumi stalked off, Inyx said, " He is an honorable man. I like him."
" He saved your life from Silvain. For that, I owe him eternal thanks."
Inyx frowned a bit, then turned and hurried after Noratumi. Lan trailed behind, moving more slowly. Krek clacked his mandibles together and muttered to himself, " Humans."
Lan Martak found the going difficult, but he worried most about Krek. The giant spider drank no water; all his moisture came from the insects and other creatures he ate. In the center of the burning desert, even tiny grubs were few and far between. For the humans it was a struggle but one bearable due to the casks of water filled at the oasis and carried on carts drawn by horses. The arachnid foraged constantly, but Lan saw the increasing shakiness in the long legs as Krek marched along.
" Well, old spider," he said through cracked lips, " are those shrubs worthy of attention?"
" Those?" scoffed Krek. " They contain nothing of interest."
" They smell like creosote."
" Smell? Always you taunt me with this pseudo- human condition you term smell. There is no such thing." The spider' s tone indicated he would have crossed arms in determination if he' d possessed them. " The few petty bugs crawling about on those branches offer little for me."
" Is there no other way for you to get water?"
A ripple passed along the spider' s coppery- furred legs until the entire bulk of his body shook.
" Water. It is almost as bad as fire. I do wish you would consider other conjurings, friend Lan Martak. You pull fire from your fingertips. Are you now deciding whether or not to bring down odious torrents of rain on my head? Oh why, oh why did I ever leave my precious Klawn and the sanctity of my web to wander?"