"Indeed I do," Valian said into his glass. He drained its contents in one gulp.
When they had all gone, some to snatch a few precious hours of rest before dawn came fresh and rosy fingered, Liam paused with his back resting against the door and took a deep breath. This is it, he said to himself. Paladine, I pray I've made the right decision. I think it's what Gunthar would have done. No, I am sure of it. Now, only one more thing to do. He walked to the fireplace and ran his fingertips along the edge of the mantle. As though searching for something, his fingers played across the surface of the wood, feeling each bump and groove. With a muted click, a false brick on the hearth swung open, revealing a small compartment behind it. Liam reached inside and withdrew a tiny silver bell. He rang it vigorously, but it made no sound, and he returned it to its secret compartment.
Satisfied, he walked to the window and opened it. A brisk autumn air entered the room, bringing with it smells of smoke from the fires still raging in some parts of the forest. Liam breathed deeply of it, feeling it course through his body, as he stood in the open window and watched the night sky.
Among the stars gleaming overhead, one in particular caught his attention, one that seemed to move occasionally, though to a casual observer it would seem nothing more than a trick of the clouds racing overhead. As he watched, the star detached itself from the firmament and descended toward the castle. The closer it came, the less like a star it seemed, and more like some object of polished silver, which reflected the light of the fires burning here and there in the forest. As it dropped into the shadow of the trees, it disappeared. A few moments later, a human figure detached itself from the shadows of the battlements and approached Liam.
"Greetings, Lord Ehrling," the shadow whispered. A silver-haired man with elven features stepped into the light spilling from Liam's window. He was wrapped entirely in dark heavy robes, but his sapphire eyes glimmered like a low fire in the shadow of his cowl. A few strands of long silver hair spilled from the hood and onto his shoulders. "You rang the bell that only our ears can hear. I came."
"I need your help," Liam said. "I need the help of all the silver dragons on Sancrist. I am sending a small group of knights to the north end of the island.… "
29
"Come. We go now," Glabella hissed. "This way." She pointed at a narrow overhang of rock, under which the shadows seemed especially deep and dark, bespeaking the probability of a cave. Castle Slagd brooded above them like some great carrion bird or crag-faced gargoyle, hunched and watchful. Its black walls rose in impossibly slender towers not unlike fangs, from which fantastic minarets hung, suspended as though by magic. The stormy sea crashed thunderously below.
The rocks where the Knights huddled were slick with sea spray and rain, and the Knights themselves were all but soaked. Jessica's short brown locks clung to her face as she looked up at the castle above them, and she wondered how they'd ever get inside.
Glabella stomped her foot in impatience. Valian snarled at her, "We can't go anywhere until our weapons are free."
He pointed at the half-dozen stone draconians lying among the rocks at their feet, the Knights' swords protruding from their petrified bodies. They'd surprised the patrol of baaz guards and given urgent battle, among the boulders beside the sea, until no enemies remained alive. Jessica tended a cut on Lady Meredith's brow, and Valian's cloven shield lay in the sand, but this was all the damage they suffered.
Like all baaz draconians, when slain their bodies turned instantly to stone, trapping the weapons of their enemies. Only Lady Meredith had withdrawn hers in time. She wiped it clean of the black draconian blood and returned it to its sheath, but the others were forced to wait until the stone bodies turned to ash and released their swords. Sir Ellinghad had gone up the shelf of rock to keep watch for other patrols.
The silver dragons had deposited them at a sandy cove about three miles away, and for the last few hours, they'd scrambled across that hard, broken landscape to reach this point by the sea, where Glabella said the secret entrance lay. Now the only thing to do was wait and try to keep as dry as possible.
A storm such as few had ever witnessed was lashing the rugged coast. Huge waves pounded the rocky shoreline, tossing spray and foam hundreds of yards inland. Icy rain blown by gale winds stabbed like daggers at exposed skin, making the Knights thankful for their armor. Glabella enjoyed no such protection. Only the thick mat of her hair, which shed water like an otter's skin, protected her face from the storm's worst.
Earlier that morning, in the bleak darkness, they'd exited Castle uth Wistan with their packs, weapons, and supplies, and found three silver dragons waiting in the courtyard.
The three dragons had agreed to transport the group over the wild mountainous north of Sancrist Isle, to a place near the draconian castle, but they wouldn't be playing a part in any assault. Once the Knights were safely on the ground, the silver dragons were to return to keep watch on Pyrothraxus.
Sir Liam stood on the battlements and watched them rise into the air. The wind from their wings whipped his long Solamnic mustaches and stung his eyes to tears. He raised his hand in farewell. When they were no longer visible against the night sky, he paced the battlements, deep in thought, until sunrise.
Dawn rose in a glut of scarlet and crimson, promising a storm before the day was done. The mountains of Sancrist loomed before them jagged, wild, and merciless. Few but gnomes lived there anymore since the coming of Pyrothraxus, and so there was no one to see the three silver dragons passing, higher even than the clouds racing before the storm.
As fast as the dragons flew, the storm flew faster, and it crashed ashore before they reached the citadel of the draconians. As the lead dragon sighted Castle Slagd, a fork of lightning split the formation, forcing two of the dragons to veer left. For a few terrifying moments, they vanished into the black clouds, then they reappeared and all three glided along the shore until they spotted a sheltered cove, offering a place to land out of the wind.
The dragons had deposited them on the sand and hurried away before the full fury of the storm struck. The Knights set out, climbing a rocky slope, until at its summit, they saw the draconian castle in the distance, starkly illumined by a flash of lightning.
Now rain continued mercilessly as they huddled behind boulders, waiting for the dead draconians to turn to ash and free their trapped weapons. Thunder shook the skies and lightning leaped from the mountain tops, while the rising sea surged around their feet, washing the draconian bodies. It seemed possible that their weapons would be lost, but then one sword toppled over as the stone crumbled,then another and another, and the Knights waded out to retrieve them before the surf washed them away.
Finally, everyone was ready. Ellinghad descended from his watch, reporting no movement within sight. Glabella pointed up the hill at the cave, and wordlessly they climbed to it. They entered cautiously, with Valian in the lead, as his elvish eyes gave him the advantage in the dark. Glabella stalked beside him, one hand in her bag, ready to wield the mighty magics she promised were at her disposal. The others lit torches and followed.
Grand Master Iulus drummed his claws impatiently on the arm of his golden throne. The throne was a recent acquisition, taken from a minotaur galley sailing from the landless west. The minotaurs had died to the last bull without revealing the source of the throne or the place from whence they'd sailed, but to Iulus it didn't really matter. He wasn't an explorer or even an adventurer. He was a Grand Master of assassins, and so that meant he was an opportunist. The throne was an opportunity he could not resist.