Unerringly, Marren led Howland to open air. Once outside-he knew this by the sound and smell-Howland was shocked to realize he couldn’t see any better! The darkness was everywhere. Even the stars were gone. The sky and land were as black as an onyx box.
“I can’t see!” Howland exclaimed. He planted his feet and refused to advance farther.
Marren touched his face lightly. “I thought so,” he said. “Rakell’s boys were too confused to be just nightblind.”
“How did this happen?”
“Your friend in the funny pants-what’s his name? He did it.”
“How could he? How do you know he wears odd pants?”
“Though blind, I hear well. Rakell’s men made many comments about his clothes. Darkness fell when your companion sneezed, so it must be his doing.”
Howland shook his head. Ezu had sneezed. At the time Howland imagined the strange traveler had somehow blown out the lanterns. How could his sneeze have the power to extinguish the campfires outside and the stars as well?
Marren resumed his fast walk. Howland let himself be led. More than once he felt heat on his face and believed he must be passing a still-blazing campfire. No one interfered with them. Whatever force had stricken Howland must have blinded every bandit in camp. All around them men floundered in the sudden darkness, cursing or calling piteously for help.
Canvas brushed against Howland’s forehead. Marren was taking him into a tent.
“Let me borrow this,” the old man said, plucking the sword from Howland’s hand. Ahead, two male voices were disputing loudly about the cause of the sudden, all-encompassing darkness.
“It must be an eclipse!” argued one. “The shadow of the moon has fallen across the world-”
“Moon? Don’t be a dolt! The moon is bright, it don’t have a shadow!”
Howland heard two dull clangs, and the disputatious guards fell silent. Marren returned and clasped his hand again. He put the hilt of the sword in Howland’s other hand.
“Thank you for the loan.”
They ducked between two heavy flaps. The room beyond was hot and close and felt very small. Howland could smell sweat, hear breathing.
“Malek? Nils?” Marren called softly.
Something stirred vigorously at their feet, yelping incoherently. Howland went down on one knee and found the brothers lying back to back, gagged, with their hands and feet bound. Working by touch alone, he untied the closest farmer’s gag.
“What’s happening? What’s happening?” sputtered Malek.
“Ssh, quiet!”
“Sir Howland! You’ve come to rescue us! Are you alone?”
“Marren uth Aegar is with me.”
Malek writhed against his bonds. “Where is he? I’ll kill him! Tell me where he is, the vile traitor!”
“Be still, will you? Marren brought me here. I had no idea Rakell’s men had taken you.”
“We were captured three days after we left home,” Malek said. He heaved against the cords around his wrists. “I saw Marren riding next to Rakell, wearing a velvet robe and golden chain! He has sold out his own people!”
There was no reasoning with him, so Howland untied Nils first. The older farmer moved slowly, grunting from obvious pain.
“I looked at a guard wrong,” he said, “and got a beating for my trouble.”
Horses galloped by, and the riders careened from the saddle, crashing to the ground just outside the tent. Everyone inside went stiff and silent. Whoever fell outside showed no sign of rising again anytime soon.
Whispering, Howland said, “I’ll free you, Malek, if you control yourself.”
“Where’s Laila?” he asked too loudly.
“I removed her from the room first,” said Marren calmly, “then came back for Sir Howland.”
“Don’t call me that,” Howland said quickly and harshly. “You know I don’t deserve it.”
“What do you mean? You’re a great warrior, a leader! A worthless turncoat like Marren should kiss your dirty shoe!” Malek hissed.
There was no time for explanations, so Howland let the matter drop. Nils and Malek could walk, the former with difficulty, and Marren said he could lead them back to Nowhere.
“What about Amergin and Ezu?” asked Howland.
“The forest elf is better off than all of us. He can see in darkness,” said Marren. “As for your strangely dressed companion, as the author of this confusion I assume he is safely gone.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I heard the elf moving easily in the darkness. He even used his sling to fell the bandit standing over you. Whatever the spell was your friend used, it affected only humans, not the elf.”
“Ezu a wizard!” exclaimed Nils. “Huh!”
“I won’t go back to the village without Laila!” said Malek.
“Malek, be sensible! How can we find her now? None of us can see,” his brother said.
“Her blind father could find her! Can’t you, Marren?”
Howland had a vague impression of the withered, white-haired old man nodding.
“I can find her, but I’ll guide you to the north side of the camp then go back for her myself. It’s safer for you that way, and Rakell does not yet suspect that I have done anything against him. Besides, my life matters little. Soon the disease in my bones will finish me, and I don’t want to be remembered as the tool of bandits.”
“Why were you treating with Rakell?” Howland demanded.
“He and I were comrades-in-arms once in the Dark Order. He thought he could enlist me in his new cause, and for comfort’s sake, I let him think so. I acted selfishly, I can’t deny. That’s over now, and I have a chance to pay back the good people who took me in when I arrived here, a sickly exile, twenty-seven years ago.” He moved to the door. “We must hurry.”
Supporting Nils between them, Howland and Malek followed the blind man out. There tiny embers glimmered in the night, though they knew they were really raging bonfires. Overhead, a few fuzzy points of light were growing visible in the sky again.
“Hurry!”
Marren led them haltingly through the maze of tents. The camp had grown quiet in the hour since darkness claimed their sight. Now and then they heard shouts or groans and heard horses snort as they grazed among the unconscious forms of their masters. In the unnatural dark, Marren found his way to the northern side of the camp. When the tall, untrammeled grass of the plain brushed against their knees, they knew the party was nearing freedom.
“Here you are. Can you see better yet?” Marren asked.
Howland could make out murky shapes but could not judge size or distance. Malek saw the stars and little else. Nils, for some reason, saw the best of any of them.
“I can make out the ground a few feet in front of me,” he said. “I can guide us back to the village.
“Good luck,” said Marren. “If you don’t encounter riders from the other camps, you’ll make it.”
“What about Laila?” Malek demanded.
“I’ll restore her to you. I swear it, on my forgotten honor as a Knight.” The old blind man smiled thinly, enjoying the irony of his words. He turned to Howland.
“Sergeant?”
Howland responded reflexively. “Yes, sir?”
“I seem to have lost my sword. Will you lend me yours?”
Howland weighed the purloined blade in his hand. His own sword had been taken away. This was the only weapon he and the brothers had between them. Nevertheless, he found Marren’s outstretched hand and pressed the pommel into it.
“Thank you,” Marren said. “I’ll try to do some damage with it.”
“Put half its length in Rakell if you want to do some real good!” said Malek bitterly.
They heard rather than saw Marren slip away. Hobbled by Nils’ injuries, the three men made slow progress across the field. Every time a loud noise erupted behind them, they stopped and looked around, but as far as they could tell, they weren’t being pursued.