"No!" Tarl screamed. "No!" He was horrified. He would gladly have died ten times to save Shal.
The vampire roared in delight. "It's just you and me now, booooy!" He gloated over the words. "I'm going to have your blood-and theirs-for dinner!"
Tarl could barely see. Tears of rage, fear, and pain burned in his eyes. He ripped his holy symbol from his neck and held it up while he charged toward the vampire like a man possessed. The medallion's blue light shimmered rich and strong-until Tarl flashed it at the vampire. Then, with one turn of the defiled Hammer of Tyr, the light from the holy symbol was extinguished, absorbed by the black light of the hammer. The vampire drew his icy lips in a pucker, as if to spit, and puffed one noxious breath of air from the putrid depths of his lungs.
Tarl was forced to stagger backward.
"Now, now. There is noooo reasonnnnnn to be soooo testy. Deny that foooolish god of yours. Jooooin my army, and I'll see that your friends are given safe passage oooout of here."
"So they can be living vegetables like Anton? No way, devil spawn!" Tarl took a precious few seconds to collect his thoughts so he could attempt to turn the undead vampire. He spoke a hurried prayer, calling for the force of Tyr to rise up against the creature. But Tarl's effort was strangled, stifled by the hammer, just as the light from the medallion had been.
The vampire tipped his head back and laughed, a grating, wicked laugh. "Fooool! I grow tired of these games. Jooooin my army, now, or die!"
"Never!" shouted Tarl.
"Kill… him!" The vampire said the two words separately, distinctly, and each reverberated the length, breadth, and height of the cavern.
Before Tarl could lift his holy symbol or cast another spell, a dozen wraiths and twice that many specters circled him. Just one touched him, and he felt his body freeze up as though he'd spent hours naked on the great glacier. He tried desperately to lash out with his hammer, to run, to move, anything, but his body had lost its ability to react. All around him, the wraiths' deadly nonmaterial fingers were reaching toward him. If he could force himself to move, he could stop one, two, maybe more before they killed him, but he could never hope to stop them all.
The vampire's laughter rang out again, and Tarl did the only thing he could do. In one stiff movement, he dropped to his knees and called on the full power of Tyr. In less than the time required for a simple prayer, he had to accomplish what had taken him hours at the temple- a complete cleansing and baring of his innermost self to his god, the purging of all fear in exchange for total confidence. In one mental picture, he had to devote his entire being to selfless concern for Shal, Anton, Ren, and the Hammer of Tyr.
On bended knee, Tarl did not even see the workings of his faith. The Hammer of Tyr erupted with the light of the sun. One horrible, bloodcurdling scream escaped the blue lips of the vampire before he and his light-hating minions turned to dust. And then the brilliant light from the hammer bathed the room, shedding the pure, healing power of Tyr on Tarl, Ren, and Shal.
12
"Incompetent clods!" Cadorna shouted. "What does the city pay you for?"
The fifteen assembled soldiers of the Black Watch stood mute before Cadorna in the council chambers.
"Didn't any of you at least see where they went?"
Finally one of the men responded. "I did. Eight of our soldiers pursued them in a small schooner. I was the only one to make it to shore after the wizard-woman sank our boat in a maelstrom-"
"Congratulations, soldier," said Cadorna, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "So you live! I'd expect that from a child. But what exactly do you know?"
"They didn't go straight south into the Moonsea. They skirted the mouth of the Barren River and made their way along the shoreline beyond the eastern edge of the city."
"How far beyond? Where exactly did they get off?"
"I didn't see, sir."
Cadorna threw up his hands, then turned to where Gensor stood beside him. "What do you think, Gensor? Do we have any way of tracking them?"
"Not that I know of," answered the mage, shaking his head. Then he lowered his voice and whispered, for Cadorna's ears alone, "Dismiss the others. Have them wait out in the hallway. We need to talk."
Cadorna looked at Gensor curiously for a moment, then did as the mage suggested.
When the two men were alone in the council chambers, Gensor began to speak, enunciating slowly and deliberately for emphasis. "You have no way of knowing where the three are-or where they are going."
"Correct." Cadorna's eyes widened and his voice raised agitatedly as he spoke. "And who knows what Yarash may have told them? It's absolutely imperative to catch all three of them. But how? You yourself said that there's no way to track them."
"Councilman, I hate to be so blunt, but you're missing the point. It's not what they know that you need to worry about. It's what the Lord of the Ruins might get from them. Think about it… Remember your plan to get their two stones and complete the figure of power yourself? If the Lord of the Ruins should catch up to those three and get the two ioun stones they carry, you will lose your chance to usurp power. You will never have the opportunity to rule all of Phlan, civilized and uncivilized alike." Gensor leaned in close to Cadorna and spoke emphatically to make his point. "Honorable First Councilman Cadorna, as your advisor, I urge you to make your move against the Lord of the Ruins now, or you may never have another chance."
"You mean attack the Lord of the Ruins to get his ioun stones and then find the thief, cleric, and mage to get their two?" asked Cadorna.
"Exactly," Gensor said. "Even if you don't get their stones immediately, you should still have as much power as the dragon has now, which is considerable."
"Right you are," Cadorna answered slowly. His eyes gleamed brightly, and he clenched his hands in excitement. He didn't need to wait for Gensor to go on. Immediately he commanded the soldiers of the Black Watch back into the chamber. With Gensor's help, Cadorna explained to them that there was a certain bronze dragon he wanted killed, a very powerful bronze dragon that made its lair at the heart of Valjevo Castle, in the northernmost part of Phlan. "I'm giving you a chance to redeem yourselves," he said to the soldiers. "You stand to earn an unprecedented reward, but be forewarned, I won't tolerate cowardice or stupidity!"
"I'm sure I speak for the others, First Councilman," one of the soldiers at the side of the room called out. "You can count on us."
The mercenaries made hasty preparations for their mission, and just two hours after dawn, under Cadorna's direction, they arrived at the gates to Valjevo Castle.
Silence hung thick in the cavern, like spiderwebs. The stone floor was covered with thick dust. Shal opened her eyes and saw the gentle blue light that filled the room. She did not know what had happened. She was not even sure at first that she was alive. She pressed the heels of her hands into the dust and slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position. Tarl was nearby, kneeling, his hands lifted skyward, an expression of awe and innocence on his face. His silvery hair glowed almost blue in the soft light. The Hammer of Tyr hung suspended in the air just above him, its steel head shining with the vibrancy of molten metal. Shal could also see Ren, still lying facedown near the front of the cavern. Quickly she pushed herself to her feet to run to his side, but before she got there, he was already rousing himself up from the floor.