"All right," he said to himself, "now what?"
Nazeem lowered himself down and dropped from the end of the last stair. Turning around, he bumped right into the returning Broken Spear raiding party.
"Where do you think you're going?" said a tall, robed warrior.
Nazeem looked out over nearly three dozen Broken Spear.
"Fairhaven is under attack," he blurted, pointing back up the steps. "Giants. Undead giants. Giselle and the others are in terrible danger. We must hurry, there isn't much time."
The warrior nodded then looked back over his shoulder. "To Giselle," he shouted. In a single bound he leaped to the top of the first stair and turned around to offer Nazeem his hand. "Come, it's faster this way."
Nazeem looked once at the path that led away from the stairs to the Giant's Plain. Then he nodded and grabbed hold of the hand. The man pulled, and Nazeem climbed up the edge of the stair with ease.
The others followed suit, headed up the steep path toward Fairhaven.
Ryder scrambled up the ladder that led up the steps to the top of the wall. The undead giants followed close behind him. They had an advantage. The steps in Fairhaven had been made for creatures of their size. For every four steps Ryder took, the giants took one, and they gained on him as he climbed.
At the top of the stairs he bolted down the walkway. He didn't know where he was going to go, only that he wanted to draw the creatures away from Giselle and the others. But now that he'd done that, he had no more plans, no more surprises or easy escapes.
On the flat ground, Ryder tried to put some room between him and his pursuers. But on top of the wall he quickly ran out of room. His path was blocked by a pile of rocks-debris from the top of the crenellations being smashed in. Ryder tried to climb up it and over to the other side, but as he put a foot on the pile, it shifted and tumbled into the courtyard far below, bouncing off a large dead tree and nearly taking him with it.
Jumping back to avoid falling off the edge, Ryder turned to face the oncoming giants. With his back against the wall, he had no choice but to try to fight them. And judging from his last encounter, this wasn't a fight he could win.
Whipping the enchanted spiked chain over his head, Ryder steeled himself for the fight. The giants closed the distance quickly and bore down on him.
"Forgive me, Samira," he said as he prepared to strike at an oncoming giant. "I did not mean to leave you like this."
The first giant hefted the bolder it had been carrying and hurled it at the cornered fighter. Ryder expected to have to deal with the creature's club, but not this, and his reaction to the flying stone was slow. He jumped to his right, away from the projectile and off into the thin air above the courtyard.
Behind him, the bolder connected with the defensive structures on top of the wall and shattered in a shower of sharp stones. In front of him, the darkness of the courtyard opened up, and the ground rushed toward him. Flailing as he fell, Ryder didn't think, he reacted. Flinging the chain out, it wrapped around the narrow trunk of the same dead tree the stones had bounced off.
Catching on itself, the chain pulled tight, and Ryder's arm was nearly yanked out of its socket as he held on for dear life. He swung out and around the tree, circling the trunk. It wasn't the most graceful move, but it saved his life, and Ryder thanked the gods that it had been a chain Jase had given him rather than a sword.
As he came to rest against the tree, Ryder grabbed hold of the trunk with his legs, dislodged the chain, and slid all the way to the ground. The moment his feet landed on the paving stones, he felt someone touch his shoulder, and he spun, prepared to fight another undead giant.
Instead he turned to see Nazeem smiling at him. "That was a pretty good trick," he said, pointing to the tree.
"Nazeem, you're alive."
The Chultan nodded. "I am a very hard man to kill," he said. He hitched his thumb over his shoulder. "Look what I found."
Through the gate came what looked like the rest of the Broken Spear.
They sprinted into the center of the courtyard, many of them with bows in hand. Dropping to one knee, they nocked arrows and let them fly at the top of the wall.
"Look out," Nazeem grabbed Ryder by the arm and yanked him away from the dead tree.
A heartbeat later, the first of the two remaining undead giants fell from above, landing atop the skinny tree and crushing it utterly. The second followed shortly thereafter.
With the immediate threats gone, Ryder slumped to the ground.
"I need a bath," he said.
Nazeem sniffed the air. "You aren't kidding."
Chapter 17
The Royal Herald of Erlkazar opened the double doors with a practiced flair. In the center of the throne room, he dropped to one knee, bending at the waist to perform an elaborate bow in the middle of the huge, woven Zakaharn rug. Standing again, he cleared his throat and looked up at the dais and the throne where King Korox of Erlkazar sat.
"My lord, King of all five baronies and the kingdom of Erlkazar," said the herald, "I present to you Master Montauk of Ahlarkham."
The double doors swung open again, and Montauk stepped into the throne room.
As he expected, it was an opulent affair. The circular room was broken into two discrete sections by a ring of pillars halfway between the wall and the center of the room. They created a reception area in the center and a long, curved walkway on the outside edge.
On the other side of the pillars was an open area. High above, on a huge ceiling dome, was an elaborate painted representation of the Black Days of Eleint. It depicted the secession of Elestam and the slaying of the counts and barons who conspired with the Duchy of Dusk to overthrown the Morkann family-a reminder of how Erlkazar came to be an independent country, separate and autonomous from Tethyr.
On the outside of the pillars were the king's dais and throne and more than two dozen heavily armed guardsmen. The pillars served to keep the soldiers hidden from the view of visiting dignitaries-present but unobtrusive was the king's policy. In addition to the bodyguards, the outer ring also held the king's personal art collection. Paintings and sculptures from all over Faerun were displayed in recessed alcoves along the curved wall. King Korox's collection was thought to be one of the best and most valuable collections in all Faerun. The king's favorite story to tell foreign monarchs was about several well-known historical texts in Cormyr. Each of them included descriptions of the destruction and loss of a particular statue of Ondeth Obarskyr that was now in the king's own possession. He would say even the sands of time couldn't detract from his collection.
Montauk admired the room as he strode through. Someday, he thought, the Twisted Rune would hold a meeting here. When the country fell to civil war, the capitol would be easy pickings.
He smiled and bowed as he approached the throne. "My lord."
The king sat atop his gilded throne, a goblet of wine in one hand and an ornate pearl-hilted dagger in the other. He regarded the bowed man with heavy eyes.
"Rise, my subject," said the king, lifting his goblet off his knee to take a drink of the blood-red wine inside.
Montauk got to his feet, placed his hands together, and bowed his head once more. "Thank you, my lord."
The king took a large breath, his chest heaving inside his golden breastplate. "You have petitioned my council for what you have called a grave and urgent matter regarding Ahlarkham."
"That is correct, my lord." Montauk kept his head slightly bowed, never making eye contact with the monarch.
"Well, out with it, man," said the king, leaning forward in his throne. "For I much desire to hear news from the realm of my sister, Princess Dijara."