Hawkmoon and D'Averc glanced warningly at the boy, but he did not appear to notice.
"It is late, now," said Jehemia Cohnahlias. "We shall all visit the Hall of the Runestaff tomorrow. Meanwhile rest here. Through that little door," he gestured across the room, "you will find sleeping accommodation. I will call for you in the morning."
"Shenegar Trott rose and bowed. "I thank you for your offer, but my men will become agitated if I do not return to my ship tonight. I will rejoin you here tomorrow."
"As you wish," the boy said.
"We would be grateful to you for your hospitality," Hawkmoon said. "But again let us warn you that Shenegar Trott may not be what he would have you believe."
"You are admirable in your tenacity," Shenegar Trott said. He waved a gauntleted hand in a cheerful salute and strode jauntily from the hall.
"I fear we shall sleep poorly knowing that our enemy is in Dnark," said D'Averc.
The boy smiled. "Fear not. The Great Good Ones will help you rest and protect you from any harm. Goodnight, gentlemen. I shall see you tomorrow."
The boy walked lightly from the room and D'Averc and Hawkmoon went to inspect the cubicles containing bunks and bedding that were let into the side of the walls.
"Shenegar Trott means the boy harm," Hawkmoon said.
"We had best make it our business to look after him, if we can," D'Averc replied. "Goodnight, Hawkmoon."
After D'Averc had ducked into his cubicle, Hawkmoon entered his own. It was full of glowing shadows and the soft music of the unearthly lullaby he had heard earlier. Almost immediately he was sound asleep.
Chapter Eight
An Ultimatum
HAWKMOON AWOKE LATE feeling thoroughly rested, but then he noticed that the glowing shadows seemed agitated. They had turned to a cold, blue colour and were swirling around as if in fear!
Hawkmoon rose quickly and buckled on his sword belt. He frowned. Was the danger he had anticipated about to comeor had it come already? The Great Good Ones seemed incapable of human communication.
D'Averc came running into Hawkmoon's cubicle.
"What do you think is the matter, Hawkmoon?"
"I do not know. Is Shenegar Trott scheming invasion? Is the boy in trouble?"
All at once the glowing shadows had wrapped themselves chillingly around the two men and they felt themselves whisked from the cubicle, through the room in which they had eaten, and along the corridors" at incredible speed until they broke out of the building altogether and were whirled upward into the golden light.
Now the speed of the Great Good Ones decreased and Hawkmoon and D'Averc, still breathless at the sudden action of the glowing shadows, hovered in the air high above the main square.
D'Averc looked pale, for his feet were planted on nothing and the glowing shadows seemed had taken on even less substance. Yet they did not fall.
Down in the square tiny figures could be seen moving in towards the cylindrical tower.
"It is an entire army!" Hawkmoon gasped. "There must be thousands of them. So much for Shenegar Trott's claims for the peaceful nature of his mission. He has invaded Dnark! But why?"
"Isn't it obvious to you, my friend," said D'Averc grimly. "He seeks the Runestaff itself. With that in his power, he would doubtless rule the world!"
"But he does not know its location!"
"That is probably why he is attacking the tower. Seethere are warriors already inside!"
Surrounded by the flimsy shadows, and with golden light on all sides, the two men looked at the scene in dismay.
"We must descend," Hawkmoon said finally.
"But we are only two against a thousand!" D'Averc pointed out.
"Ayebut if the Sword of the Dawn will again summon the Legion of the Dawn, then we might succeed against them!" Hawkmoon reminded him.
As if they had understood his words, the Great Good Ones began to descend. Hawkmoon felt his heart enter his throat as they dropped rapidly towards the square, now thickly clustered with masked Dark Empire warriorsmembers of the terrible Falcon Legion which, like the Vulture Legion, was a mercenary force made up of renegades who were, if anything, more evil than the native Granbretanians. Had Falcon eyes stared up in anticipation of the feast of blood Hawkmoon and D'Averc offered; they had beaks ready to tear the flesh of the two enemies of the Dark Empire, and their swords, maces, axes and spears were like talons poised to rend.
As the glowing shadows deposited D'Averc and the Duke of Koln near the entrance to the tower they just had time to draw their blades before the Falcons attacked.
But then Shenegar Trott appeared at the entrance of the tower and called to his men.
"Stop, my falcons. There is no need for bloodshed. I have the boy!"
Hawkmoon and D'Averc saw him lift the child, Jehemia Cohnahlias, by his robes and hold him struggling before them.
"I know that this city is full of supernatural creatures who would seek to stop us," the Count announced, "and thus I have taken the liberty of insuring our safety while we are here. If we are attacked. If one of us is touched, I shall slit the little boy's throat from ear to ear." Shenegar Trott chuckled. "I take this step only to avoid unpleasantness on all sides…"
Hawkmoon made to move, to summon the Legion of the Dawn, but Trott wagged his finger chidingly. "Would you be the cause of a child's death, Duke of Koln?"
Glowering, Hawkmoon dropped his swordarm, addressing the boy. "I warned you of his perfidy!"
"Aye…" the boy struggled, half-choking in his robes. "I fear I should havepaid moreattention to you, sir."
Count Shenegar laughed, his mask flashing in the golden light "Nowtell me where the Runestaff is kept."
The boy pointed back into the tower. "The Hall of the Runestaff is within."
"Show me!" Shenegar Trott turned to his men. "Watch this pair. I'd rather have them alive, since the King Emperor will be well-pleased if we can return with two as well as Heroes of Kamarg the Runestaff. If they move, shout to me and I'll take off an ear or two." He drew his dirk and held it near the boy's face. "Most of youfollow me."
Shenegar Trott disappeared once more into the tower and six of the Falcon warriors stayed to guard Hawkmoon and D'Averc while the rest followed their leader.
Hawkmoon scowled. "If only the boy had paid heed to what we said!" He moved slightly and the Falcons stirred warningly. "Now how are we to save himand the Runestafffrom Trott?"
Suddenly the Falcons looked upward in astonishment and D'Averc's gaze followed theirs.
"It seems we are to be rescued," smiled D'Averc.
The glowing shadows were returning.
Before the Falcons could move or speak, the shadows had wrapped themselves around the two men and were once again lifting them upwards.
Disconcerted, the Falcons slashed at their feet as they ascended, and then turned to run into the tower, to warn their leader of what had happened.
Higher and higher rose the Great Good Ones, carrying Hawkmoon and D'Averc with them. Into the golden haze that became a thick, golden mist so that they could no longer see each other, let alone the buildings of the city.
They seemed to travel for hours before they became aware of the golden mist thinning.
Chapter Nine
The Runestaff
As THE GOLDEN mist diminished, Hawkmoon blinked his eyes, for they were now assailed by all manner of colourswaves and rays making strange configurations in the airand all emanating from a central source.
Narrowing his eyes against the light, he peered around him. They hovered near the roof of a hall whose walls seemed constructed of sheets of translucent emerald and onyx. At the centre of the hall rose a dais, reached by steps from all sides. It was from the object on this dais that the configurations of light originated. The patternsstars, circles, cones and more complex figuresshifted constantly, but their source was always the same. It was a small staff, about the length of a short sword, of a dense black, dull and apparently discoloured in a few places. The discolorations were of a deep, mottled blue.