“As long as it takes our friends down there to tire themselves out.”
They were slowly inching their way toward the keep that Argaen Ravenshadow had made his own. Finding it had been fairly simple; the two of them had moved steadily and stealthily in the direction of the peak where the stone dragon now perched. As they had assumed, the keep lay below that particular mountain.
Getting there… now, that was a nasty problem.
The region was a kendertown of activity. Patrols scurried everywhere. Kaz was truly astonished at the number of hardened fighters; this was the bulk of what remained of the once-terrible force of the Dragonqueen. The dark elf was indeed building himself an army! How long had he planned such a thing? When had he first contacted the various raider commanders? What had he offered them?
Ravenshadow’s keep had been built long ago, probably by someone dreaming of a new life. It was old but solid. A high, serviceable wall surrounded it, save at the back of the keep, where a mountain provided a natural barrier to outsiders. There were several taller buildings toward the back end of the keep, one a squat tower that had probably served as the lord’s residence. It was in that tower that Kaz suspected he would find Argaen Ravenshadow himself. Despite the damage the elements had done to the keep as a whole, the dark elf had apparently seen no reason to have it repaired. What had happened to the original inhabitants, neither Sardal nor Kaz could even guess, but at one time, the minotaur estimated that the place could have held almost four hundred souls. Certainly the size of the keep indicated that. The size also hinted at how massive Argaen’s army had become; the keep was fairly overwhelmed by men and horses. There were groups of ogres and other races that had forged alliances with Takhisis.
Time was rapidly running out. So much activity meant only one thing to Kaz: His friends were under attack. Every moment he delayed brought them closer to death-if it was not already too late.
The going was too slow. Dodging patrols and riders. Being forced, at one point, to wait and quietly kill a trio of searchers who had gotten too close in their search. Still the keep was far away.
“They are moving on,” Sardal whispered.
The patrol had decided to continue down the path before them. No one would find the three men Kaz had been forced to dispatch, but if they went far enough, they might find traces of one very large wolf.
Thinking of Greymir, Kaz wondered how the emissary of Habbakuk was faring. The dreadwolves were nothing if not maddeningly persistent, and they were nearly impossible to kill. Kaz could not help wondering whether Greymir had fallen to them, and if the others were now closing in on the elf and him.
“We waste valuable time,” Sardal reminded him.
Kaz replied in a manner that left it quite clear what he thought about the elf’s comment. While Sardal suppressed a smile, the minotaur scanned the area quickly and, deciding it was safe, stepped out into the open.
“We are fortunate,” Kaz’s companion added, “that Argaen does not dare trust another mage.”
“Why can’t he?”
“Very simply, what Black Robe would not be tempted by the power channeled by the emerald sphere? Argaen is not strong enough to match a true magic-user.”
“Which makes him perfect for Galan Dracos.”
“Yes.” Sardal looked saddened. “Poor Argaen. I wonder if he knows yet what role he may be playing.”
Kaz grunted.
A warning shout came from behind them. Both turned at the noise. For whatever reason, two of the men in the last patrol had backtracked just in time to see the minotaur step out into the open. They had only one viable option, and the minotaur put it into action with but a single word.
“Run!”
Horns sounded. Kaz heard more shouts, an indication that the rest of the patrol was nearby. It wouldn’t be long before the alarm alerted others.
“We cannot… cannot run mindlessly!” Sardal gasped as he ran.
“Save your breath!”
Kaz’s footing became unstable. He immediately discovered that he was not alone in his predicament. Sardal was falling forward, and startled cries alerted him to the fact that their pursuers were having problems of their own.
An earthquake? Kaz wondered.
“M-Minotaur!” the elf bellowed. Sardal was rolling helplessly down the incline. As much as Kaz would have liked to aid him, he was having enough trouble preventing himself from toppling after him. The tremors continued to toss loose objects about.
Barely on his feet, Kaz stared wide-eyed as the side of one peak seemed to melt downward. He blinked, but the astonishing sight remained. The emerald sphere had to be the cause of this. Argaen Ravenshadow must be trying to harness its abilities. And he was not succeeding.
Chaos. Huma had said that Galan Dracos called the sphere his channel into the power of chaos, or something along those lines.
Something bumped him from behind. Kaz lashed out, only to find his arm snared by the powerful grip of a human almost as tall and broad as himself. The man had to be part ogre. He had to try to fight off this foe before he lost his footing entirely.
The human was trying to twist the battle-axe out of Kaz’s grip. As he fought back, his left foot slid downward. Minotaur and human compensated, but Kaz found himself at a definite disadvantage. His adversary had the higher ground. Kaz’s grip was loosening, and worse, the soldier was now drawing a dagger. Kaz couldn’t gain more than a temporary foothold.
Kaz fell into a sitting position. His opponent followed him down facefirst, striking the earth hard. His grip all but vanished, and the two of them separated. The soldier began to tumble over and over uncontrollably. By the time Kaz reached more level ground, his adversary lay absolutely motionless.
The earth finally ceased rippling, but the games were not over. The formerly solid ground, though no longer rising and falling, was now like mud. Kaz rose and immediately sank to his knees. Beyond him, Sardal cautiously made his way toward the minotaur. He was up to his ankles in the mudlike earth, but each step sank him a little deeper.
A horrible slurping sound caught Kaz’s attention, and he turned just in time to see the boots of his opponent, the only portion of the man still visible, sink into the earth. The minotaur glanced down at the muck surrounding his own legs and froze in trepidation.
He began to sink even faster.
“Don’t stand still!” Sardal shouted. “Spread your mass! It will slow the sinking!”
The logic was questionable, but the results were evident. Kaz actually succeeded in raising himself up a bit. There was still one problem. “How do we get out of here?”
A shadow loomed overhead. Kaz didn’t have to look up to know what it was.
Ravenshadow’s stone dragon.
The creature circled above them, seeming to debate what it should do. Kaz readied his battle-axe, knowing that even if the unliving creature feared it, it wouldn’t do the minotaur much good if the dragon simply dropped on top of him. At least, however, he would try to get in one blow.
Several tons of solid stone came hurtling down, blotting out the sun. Kaz closed his eyes, awaiting the final moment, but the moment never came. There was a heavy thud, as if something massive, such as a dragon made of stone, had struck a hard surface and bounced off.
“Branchala be praised!” whispered Sardal from nearby.
Kaz dared to open his eyes. Apparently the stone dragon, much to its annoyance, had bounced off something, for it was now careening madly about, trying to regain control. Sardal was smiling wearily. The minotaur looked from elf to dragon to elf again.
“What’d you do?”
“I devised a spell that I thought just might be strong enough to repel Argaen’s pet. It worked, I am happy to say.” The elf looked very relieved.