Shadow of a Dark Queen

Raymond E. Feist was born and raised in Southem
California. He was educated at the University
of California, San Diego, where he
graduated with honours in Communication
Arts. He is the author of the bestselhng and
critically acclaimed Riftwar Saga (Magician,
Silvenhorn and A Darkness at Sethanon), Mnce of
the Blood, Faerie Tale and The King's Buccaneer and
is co-author (with Janny Wurts) of Daughter of
the Empire, Smant of the Empire and Mistress of the
Empire. Feist lives with his wife, novelist Kathlyn
Starbuck and, daughter Jessica Afichele in
Rancho Santa Fe, California.

1 ~

BY THE SAME AUTHOR

Magician
Silverthorn
A Darkness at Sethanon
Prince of the Blood
FaMe Tale
The King's Buccaneer

with Janny Wurts

Daughter of the Empire
Servant of the Empire
Mistress of the Empire

SCIENCF
FICTION
FANTASY

RAYMOND E. FEIST

-SHADOW OF A
DARK QUEEN

HarperCoflinsPublishers

1 ~

1

HarperColhns Science Fiction & Fantasy
An Imprint of HarperColUmPublishen
77-85 Fulham Palace Road,
Hammersmith, London W6 &JB

Special overseas edition 1995
This paperback edition 1995
1 3 5 7 9 8 6 4 2

First published in Great Britain by
HarperCollinsPublishm 1994

Copyright @ Raymond E. Feist 1994

The Author asserts the moM right to
he identified as the author of this work

ISBN 0 00 648026 8

Set in Meridien

TY~t at The Spartan Press Ltd,
Lymington, Hants
Printed in Great Britain by
HarperCollinsManufacturing Glasgow

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be
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condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

For Jonathan Matson:
more than my agent, a good friend

Aglaranna - Elf Queen in Elvandar
Alika - 'demon' cook at Sorcerer's isle
Althal - elf in Elvandar
Avery, Rupert 'Roo' - boy from Ravensburg, companion
of Erik von Darkmoor; later prisoner; later member of
Calis's company

Biggo - prisoner; later member of Erik's company

Calis - half elf, half human son of Aglaranna and Tomas;
known as 'The Eagle of Krondor'; leader of a military
company
Culli - murdering mercenary

Dawar - mercenary in Nahoot's company
de Loungville, Robert 'Bobby' - sergeant in Calis's
company
de Savona, Luis - prisoner; later member of Calis's company
Durany - mercenary in Calis's company

Ellia ~ elven woman saved by Miranda
Embrisa - girl from Village Weanat
Esterbrook, Jacob - merchant in Krondor

Fadawah, General - Supreme Commander of the
Armies of the Emerald Queen
Finia ~ woman at Village Weanat
Foster, Charlic - guard corporal in Calis's company

Freida - Erik's mother


Galain - elf in Elvandar
Gapi - general in Emerald Queen's army
Gert - old cronelcharcoal burner met by Erik and Roo
Goodwin, Billy - prisoner; later member of Calls's company

Greylock, Owen - Swordmaster of Baron of Darkmoor;
later member of Calis's company
Grindle, Helmut - merchant

Handy, icrome - member of Calis's company

Jarwa - Sha-shahan of the Seven Nations of the Saaur
iatuk - son of Jarwa, heir and later Sha-shahan of the
surviving Saaur

Kaba - Shieldbearer to Jarwa
Kelka - corporal in Nahoot's company
Khali-shi - Novindus name for Death Goddess

Lalial - elf in Elvandar
Lender, Sebastian - Litigator and Solicitor at Barret's
Coffee House in Krondor
Lims-Kragma - Death Goddess

Macros the Black - legendary sorcerer; considered the
greatest practitioner of magic ever known
Marsten - sailor on Trenchard's Revenge
Mathilda - Baroness of Darkmoor
Milo - innkeeper at Inn of the Pintail in Ravensburg
miranda - mysterious friend to Calis
Monis - Jarwa's Shieldbearer
Mugaar - horse trader in Novindus
Murtag - Saaur warrior
Nakor the Isalani - strange companion of Calls
Nathan - new smith at Inn of the Pintail in Ravensburg
Notombi - fortner Keshian Legionary, then prisoner;

later member of Calis's company

Pug - also known as Milamber; magician of great power;
Considered second only to Macros the Black in knowledge


Rian - one of Ziia's mercenaries
Rosalyn - Milo's daughter
Ruthia - Goddess of Luck

Shati, Jadow - member of Calis's company
Shila - Saaur home world
Sho Pi - Isalani, former Monk of Dala; later prisoner;
later member of Calis's company

Taber - tavern keeper in LaMut
Tarinil - villager at Weanat
Tomas - consort of Aglaranna, father of Calis; wearer of
the Armor of Ashen-Shugar, last of the Dragon Lords
Tyndal - smith at Inn of the Pintail in Ravensburg

von Darkmoor, Erik - bastard son of the Baron von
Darkmoor; later prisoner; later mercenary in Calis's company

von Darkmoor, Manfred - youngest son of Otto; later
Baron

Erik, Stefan, and Manfred
von Darkmoor, Stefan - otto's eldest son
von Darkmoor, Otto -.Baron of Darkmoor; fatb,

Zila - treacherous mercenary leader


BOOK 1
Erik's Tale

Days, when the ball of our vision
Had eagles that flew unabashed to sun;
When the grasp on the bow was decision,
And arrow and hand and eye were one;
When the Pleasures, like waves to a swimmer,
Came heaving for rapture ahead, Invoke
them, they dwindle, they glimmer
As lights over mounds of the dead.
- George Meredith
'Ode to Youth in Memory'



PROLOGUE

Deliverance

The drums thundered.
Warriors of the Saaur sang their battle chants, preparing
for the struggle to come. Tattered war banners hung
limply from bloodied lances as thick smoke shrouded the
sky from horizon to horizon. Green faces marked with
yellow and red paint watched the western skies, where
fires cast crimson and ocher light against the black
shroud of smoke, blocking the vanishing sun and the
familiar tapestry of the western evening stars.
Jarwa, Sha-shahan of the Seven Nations, Ruler of the
Empire of Grass, Lord of the Nine Oceans, could not tear
his gaze away from the destruction. All day he had
watched the great fires burn, and even across the vast
distance the howls of the victors and the cries of their
victims had carried through the afternoon. Winds that
once carried the sweet scent of flowers or the rich aroma
of spices from the market now carried the acrid stench of
charred wood and burned flesh. He knew without looking
that those behind were bracing for the coming trial,
resigned in their hearts that the battle was lost and the
race would die.
'My lord,' said Kaba, his Shieldbearer and life
companion.
Jarwa turned to his oldest friend and sayetched
faintly around his eyes. Kaba wmask
to all but Jarwa; the Sha-shaba
shaman reads a lore scroll. '
'The Pantathian is here.'

Jarwa nodded, but he remained motionless. Powerful
hands closed in frustration over the hilt of his battlesword,
Tual-masok - Blood Drinker in the ancient tongue - far more
a symbol of office than the crown he had worn only on rare
state occasions. He pushed its point down into the soil of
his beloved Tabar, the oldest nation on the world of Shila.
For seventeen years he had fought the invaders as they had
driven his hordes back to the heartland of the Empire of
Grass.

When he had taken the sword of the Sha-shahan while
still a youth, warriors of Saaur had passed in review, filling
the ancient stone causeway that spanned the Takador
Narrows, the channel connecting the Takador Sea and the
Castak Ocean. One hundred riders - a century - side by side,
rode past, one hundred centuries to a jatar: ten thousand
warriors. Ten jatar to a host, and ten host to a horde. At the
height of his power, seven hordes answered Jarwa's battle
horns, seven million warriors. Always on the move, their
horses grazed the Empire of Grass, while children grew to
adulthood playing and fighting among the ancient wagons
and tents of the Saaur, stretching from the city of Cibul to
the farthest frontier, ten thousand miles distant; it was an
empire so vast that teams of horses and riders, never
stopping their gallop, would take a full turning of the moon
and half again to ride from the capital to the frontier, twice
that from one border to the other.

Each season, one horde rested near the capital, while the
others moved along the frontiers of the great nation,
ensuring the peace by conquering all who refused tribute.
Along the shores of the nine great oceans, a thousand
cities sent food, riches, and slaves to the court of the
Shashahan. And once a ten-year, the champions of the
seven hordes gathered for the great games at Cibul, ancient
capital of the Empire of Grass. Over the span of centuries,
the Saaur had gathered all of Shila under the Shashahan's
banner, all but the most distant nations on the far side of
the world. It was Jarwa's dream to be the Shashahan who at
last realized the dream of his ancestors, to bring the last city
into the Empire and rule the entire world.

Four great cities had fallen to Jarwa's hordes, and another
five had surrendered without a struggle, leaving fewer than
a dozen outside the Empire. Then the riders of the Patha
Horde had come to the gates of Ahsart, City of Priests.
Soon disaster followed.

Jarwa steeled himself against the sounds of agony that
carried through the twilight. The cries were of his people as
they were led to the feasting pits. From what those few able
to escape had said, the captives who were quickly
slaughtered were perhaps the fortunate ones, along with
those who had fallen in battle. The invaders, it was said,
could capture the souls of the dying, to keep them as
playthings, tormenting them for eternity as the shades of
the slain were denied their final place among their ancestors,
riding in the ranks of the Heavenly Horde.

Jarwa looked down upon the ancient home of his people
from his vantage atop the plateau. Here, less than a half day's 
ride from Cibul, the ragged remnants of his once-mighty
army camped. Even in this the darkest hour of the
Empire of Grass, the presence of the Sha-shahan caused his
warriors to stand tall, throw back their heads, and look
toward the distant enemy with contempt. But no matter the
posture of these warriors

their Sha-shahan saw something in their eyes no
of the Nine Oceans had ever seen before in the
countenance of a Saaur warrior: fear.

Jarwa sighed, and turned without whis tent. Knowing full
well that no he hated to face the alien. Pau!z;
Jarwa said, 'Kaba, I have no faith in this priest from
another world.' He spit the word.
Kaba nodded, his scales grey from years of the hard life
on horseback and from serving his Sha-shahan. 'I know
you have doubts, my lord. But your Cupbearer and your
Loremaster concur. We have no choice.'
'There is always a choice,' whispered Jarwa. 'We can
choose to die like warriors!'
Softly Kaba reached out and touched Jarwa on the
arm, a familiarity that would have brought instant death
to any other warrior of the Saaur. 'Old friend,' he said
softly, 'this priest offers our children haven. We can fight
and die, and let bitter winds sing away the memory of the
Saaur. There will be no one left to chant remembrance to
the Heavenly Horde of our valor, while fiends eat our
flesh. Or we may send our remaining females and the
young males to safety. Is there another choice?'
'But he is not like us.'
Kaba sighed. 'There is something ...
'This one's blood is cold,' whispered Jarwa.
Kaba made a sign. 'The cold-blooded are creatures of
legend.'
'And what of those?' asked Jarwa, motioning to the
distant fire engulfing his capital.
Kaba could only shrug. Saying nothing more, Jarwa
led his oldest friend into the Sha-shahan's tent.
The tent was larger than any other in camp, in reality a
pavilion of many tents sewn together. Glancing around
the interior, Jarwa felt cold grip his heart. So many of his
wisest advisers and his most powerful loremasters were
missing. Yet of those who remained, all looked to him
with hope. He was Sha-shahan, and it was his duty to
deliver the people.
Then his eyes fell upon the alien, and again he wondered
which choice was wiser. The creature looked much
like the Saaur, green scales covering arms and face, but
he wore a deep-hooded robe that concealed the body,
rather than the armor of a warrior or robes of a
loremaster. He was small by Saaur standards, being less
than two arms' span in height, and his snout was too
long by half, and his eyes were all black, rather than red
iris upon white as were the eyes of the Saaur. Where
thick white nails should have been, black talons
extended from his fingers. And his speech contained a
sibilance, from the tongue that forked. As he removed
his battered helm from his head and handed it to a

servant, Jarwa voiced aloud what every warrior and
loremaster in the tent thought: 'Snake.'
The creature bowed his head, as if this were a greeting
instead of a deadly insult. 'Yes, my lord,' it hissed in
return.
Several of Jarwa's warriors had hands upon weapons,
but the old Cupbearer, second only to Kaba in importance
to his lord, said, 'He is our guest.'
Long had the legends of the snake people been with
the Saaur, the lizard people of Shila. Like the hot-blooded
Saaur, yet not, they were creatures invoked
by mothers to frighten naughty children at night. Eaters
of their own kind, laying eggs in hot pools, the snake
people were feared and hated with racial passion though
none had been seen in the longest memory of the loremasters
of the Saaur. in the legend it was said that both
races were created by the Goddess, at the dawn of time,
when the first riders of the Heavenly Horde were
hatched. The servants of the Green Lady, Goddess of the
Night, the snakes had remained in her mansion, while
the Saaur had ridden forth with her and her godbrothers
and god-sisters. Abandoned to this world
by the Goddess, the Saaur had prospered, but always
the memory of the others, the snakes, remained. Only
the Loremaster knew which tales were history and
which were myth, but one thing Jarwa knew: from
birth, the Sha-shahan's heir was taught that no snake
was worthy of trust.
The snake priest said, 'My lord, the portal is ready.
Time grows short. Those feasting upon the bodies of your
countrymen will tire of their sport, and as night deepens,
and their powers grow, they will be here.'
Ignoring the priest for a moment, Jarwa turned to his
companions and said, 'How many jatar survive?'
Tasko, Shahan of the Watiri, answered. 'Four and but a
part of a fifth.' With a note of finality in his voice, he said,
'No jatar remains intact. These last are gathered from
remnants of the Seven Hordes.'
Jarwa resisted the impulse to surrender to despair.
Forty thousand riders and part of another ten thousand.
That was all that survived from the Seven Great Hordes
of the Saaur.
Jarwa felt blackness grip his heart. How he remembered
his outrage when word came from the Patha Horde
of the priests' defiance and refusal to pay tribute. Jarwa
had ridden for seven months to lead personally the final
attack against Ahsart, City of Priests. For a moment he
felt a stab of remorse cut deep into his soul; then he
silently chided himself: could any ruler have known that
the insane priests of Ahsart would destroy everything
rather than let the Saaur unite the world under one
ruler? it had been the mad high priest, Myta, who had
unsealed the portal and let the first demon through.
There was small comfort in knowing that the demon's
first act was to capture Myta's soul for torment as he
ripped his head from his body. One Ahsart survivor had
claimed a hundred warrior priests had attacked the one
demon as it devoured Myta's flesh, and none had survived.

Ten thousand priests and loremasters alongside more
than seven million warriors had died holding the foul
creatures at bay as they battled from the farthest border
of the Empire to its heart, in a war spanning half a world.
A hundred thousand demons had died, but each one's
destruction was paid for in dear blood, as thousands of
warriors threw themselves fearlessly at the hideous

creatures. The loremasters had used their arts to good
effect at times, but always the demons returned. For
years the fighting had continued, a running battle past
four of the nine oceans. Children had been born in the
Sha-shahan's camp, grown to young adulthood, and died
in the fighting, and still the demons came. The loremasters
looked in vain for a means of closing the portal
and turning the tide of battle to the Saaur.
From the other side of the world they had fought their
way back to Cibul, as the -demon army poured through
the portal between worlds, and now another portal was
being opened, offering hope for the Saaur: hope through
exile.
Kaba pointedly cleared his throat, and Jarwa forced
away regret. Nothing would be gained from it; as his
Shieldbearer had said, there was no choice.
'Jatuk,' Jarwa said, and a young warrior stepped forward, '
Of seven sons, one to rule each horde, you are the
last,' he said bitterly. The young warrior said nothing.
'You are Ja-shahan,' pronounced Jarwa, officially naming
him heir to the throne. The youth had joined his
father but ten days before, riding out to his father's camp
accompanied by his personal retinue. He was but eighteen
years of age, barely more than a year from the
training grounds and a veteran of only three battles since
coming to the front. Jarwa realized that his youngest son
was a stranger, having been only a crawling infant when
he had left to bring Ahsart to her knees. 'Who rides to
your left?' he asked.
Jatuk said, 'Monis. birth companion.' He indicated a
calm-looking young man who already bore a proud scar
along his left arm.
Jarwa nodded. 'He shall be your Shieldbearer.' To
Monis he said, 'Remember, it is your duty to guard your
lord with your life; more: it is your duty to guard his
honor. No one will stand closer to Jatuk than you, not
mate, not child, not Loremaster. Always speak truth,
even when he wishes not to hear it.'
To Jatuk he added, 'He is your shield; always heed his
wisdom, for to ignore your Shieldbearer is to ride into
battle with an arm tied to your side, blind in one eye, deaf
in one ear.'
Jatuk nodded. Monis was now granted the highest
honor given to one not born of the ruling family;
he could speak his mind without fear of retribution.

Monis saluted, his balled right fist striking his left
shoulder. 'Sha-shahan!' he said, then looked at the
ground, the sign of complete deference and respect.
'Who guards your table?'
Jatuk said, 'Chiga, birth companion.'
Jarwa approved. Selected from the same birth crache,
these three would know one another as they knew
themselves, a stronger tie than any other. To the named
warrior Jatuk said, 'You shall give up your arms and
armor and you shall remain behind.'
The honor was mixed with bitterness, for the honor of
being Cupbearer was high, but giving up the call to battle
was difficult for any warrior.
'Protect your lord from the stealthy hand, and from the
cunning word whispered over too much drink by false
friends.'
Chiga saluted. Like Monis, he was now free to speak to
his lord without fear of punishment, for in being
Cupbearer he was pledged to protect Jatuk in all ways as
much as the warrior who rode on the Ja-shahan's shield
side.
Jarwa turned to another figure, his Loremaster
surrounded by several acolytes. 'Who among your company
is most gifted?'
The Loremaster said, 'Shadu. He remembers everything.'

Jarwa addressed the young warrior priest. 'Then take
the tablets and the relics, for you are now chief keeper of
the faith. You will be Loremaster to the People.' The
acolyte's eyes widened as his master handed the ancient

tablets, large sheaves of parchment kept between board
covers, and written upon with ink nearly faded white
with age. But more, he was given the responsibility to
remember the lore, the interpretations, and the traditions,
a thousands words in memory for each word
drawn in ink by an ancient hand.
Jarwa said, 'Those who have served with me from the
first, this is my final charge to you. Soon the foe comes a
last time. We will not survive. Sing your death songs
loudly and know that your names will live in the
memory of your children upon a distant world under an
alien sky. I know not if their songs can carry across the
void to keep the memory of the Heavenly Horde alive, or
if they will begin a new Heavenly Horde upon this alien
world, but as the demons come, let every warrior know
that the flesh of our flesh shall endure safely in a distant
land.'
Whatever the Sha-shahan might feel was hidden
behind a mask as he said, 'Jatuk, attend me. The rest of
you, to your appointed places.' To the snake priest he
said, 'Go to the place where you work your magic, and
know that should you play my people false, my shade
shall break free from whatever pit of hell holds it and
cross the gulf to hunt you down if it takes ten thousand
years.'
The priest bowed and hissed, 'Lord, my life and honor
are yours. I remain, to add my small aid to your rear
guard. In this pitiful fashion I show my people's respect
and wish to bring the Saaur, who are so like us in so
many ways, to our home.'
If Jarwa was impressed by the sacrifice, he gave no
hint. He motioned his youngest son outside the great
tent. The youth followed his father to the ridge and
looked down upon the distant city, made hellish in the
demons' fires. Faint screams, far beyond those made by
mortal throat, tore the evening,. and the young leader
pushed back the urge to turn his face away.
'Jatuk, by this time tomorrow, on some distant world,
you will be Sha-shahan of the Saaur.'
The youth knew this was true no matter how much he
would wish it otherwise. He made no false protest.
'I have no trust of snake priests,' whispered Jarwa.
'They may seem like us, but always remember, their blood
runs cold. They are without passion and their tongues are
forked. Remember also the ancient lore of the last visit to
us by the snakes, and remember the tales of treachery
since the Mother of us all gave birth to the hot bloods and
the cold bloods.'
'Father.'
putting his hand, callused with years of swordwork
and scarred by age and battle, upon his son's shoulder, he
gripped hard. Firm young muscle resisted under his
grasp, and Jarwa felt a faint spark of hope. 'I have given
my oath, but you will be the one who must honor the
pledge. Do nothing to disgrace your ancestors or your
people, but be vigilant for betrayal. A generation of service
to the snakes is our pledge: thirty turnings of this
alien world. But remember: should the snakes break the
oath first, you are free to do as you see fit.'
Removing his hand from his son's shoulder, he
motioned for Kaba to approach. The Sha-shahan's
Shieldbearer approached with his lord's helm, the great
fluted head covering of the Sha-shahan, while a groom
brought a fresh horse. The great herds had perished, and
the best of what remained would go to the new world
with the Saaur's children. Jarwa and his warriors
would have to make do with the lesser animals. This
one was small, -barely nineteen hands, hardly large
enough to carry the Sha-shahan's armored weight. No
matter, thought Jarwa. The fight would be a short

one.
Behind them, to the east, a crackle of energy exploded,
as if a thousand lightning strikes flashed, illuminating the
night. A second later a loud thunder peal sounded, and
all turned to see the shimmering in the sky. Jarwa said,
'The way is open.'
The snake priest hurried forward, pointing down the
ridge. 'Lord, look!'
Jarwa turned to the west. Out of the distant flames
small figures could be seen flying toward them. Bitterly
Jarwa knew this was a matter of perspective. The
screamers were the size of an adult Saaur, and some of
the other fliers were even larger. Leathery wings would
make the air crack like a wagoneer's whip, and shrieks
that could drive a sane warrior to madness would fill the
dark. Looking at his own hand for any signs of trembling,
Jarwa said to his son, 'Give me your sword.'
The youth did as he was bid, and Jarwa handed his
son's sword to Kaba. Then he removed Tual-masok from
his scabbard and gave it, hilt first, to his son. 'Take your
birthright and go.'
The youth hesitated, then gripped the hilt. No
loremaster would glean this ancient weapon from his
father's body to present to the heir. It was the first time in
the memory of the Saaur that a Sha-shahan had voluntarily
surrendered the bloodsword while life remained
in his heart.
Without another word, Jatuk saluted his father,
turned, and walked to where his own companions
waited. With a curt wave of his hand, he motioned for
them to mount and ride to where the remaining masses
of the Saaur gathered to flee to a distant world.
Four jatar would ride through the new portal, while
the remaining part of the fifth, as well as all of Jarwa's old
companions and loremasters, would stay behind to hold
the demons at bay. Chanting filled the air while the
loremasters wove their arts, and suddenly the air erupted
in blue flames as a wall of energy spread across the sky.
Demons flying into the trap screamed in anger and pain
as blue flames seared their bodies. Those that quickly
turned away were spared, but those that were too far into
the energy field smoldered and burned, evil black smoke
pouring from their fiery wounds. A few of the more
powerful creatures managed to reach the ridge, where
Saaur warriors leaped without hesitation to hack and
chop at their bodies. Jarwa knew it was a faint triumph,
for only those demons whom magic had seriously
wounded could be so quickly dispatched.
Then the snake priest howled. 'They are leaving, lord.'
Jarwa glanced over his shoulder and saw the great
silver portal hanging in the air, what the snake had called
a rift. Through it rode the van of the Saaur youth, and for
an instant Jarwa imagined he could see his son vanish
from sight - though he knew it was wishful thinking. The
distance was too vast to make out such detail.
Then Jarwa returned his attention to the mystic barrier
that now shone white-hot where demons brought their
own arts to bear. He knew the fliers were more a nuisance
than a danger: their speed made them deadly for
lone riders or the weak or wounded, but a strong warrior
could dispatch one without difficulty. It would be those
that followed the fliers who would end his life.
Rents in the energy appeared along the face of the
barrier, and as they did, Jarwa could glimpse dark figures
approaching from beyond it. Large demons who could
not fly, save by magic, hurried over the ground, running
at the best speed of a Saaur horse and rider, their evil
howls adding to the sounds of battle. The snake priest put
forth his hand and flames erupted where a demon
attempted to pass through a rent in the barrier, and
Jarwa could see the snake priest stagger with the effort.
Knowing the end was but moments away, Jarwa
said, 'Tell me one thing, snake: why do you choose to die
here with us? We had no choice, and you were free to
leave with my children. Does death at the hands of those'
- he motioned toward the approaching demons - 'hold
no terror for you?'
With a laugh the Ruler of the Empire of Grass could
only think of as mocking, the snake priest said, 'No, my
lord. Death is freedom, and you shall quickly learn that.
We who serve in the palace of the Emerald Queen know
this.'
Jarwa's eyes narrowed. So the ancient legends were
true, This creature was one of those whom the Mother
Goddess had birthed. With a flash of anger, Jarwa knew
that his race was betrayed and that this creature was as
bitter an enemy as those who raced to eat his soul. With a
cry of frustration, the Sha-shahan struck out with his
son's sword and severed the head from the shoulders of
the Pantathian.
Then the demons were loose among the rear guard and
Jarwa could spare but a moment to think of his son and
his companions' children, upon a distant world under an
alien sun. As the Lord of the Nine Oceans turned to face
his foe, he made a silent prayer to his ancestors, to the
Riders of the Heavenly Horde, to watch over the children
of the Saaur.
One form loomed above the rest, and as if sensing his
approach, the lesser demons parted. A figure twice the
height of the tallest Saaur, more than twenty-five feet
tall, strode purposefully toward Jarwa. Powerful of form,
his body looked much like that of a Saaur - broad
shoulders tapering to a narrow waist, large arms and legs
well fashioned - but his back bore huge wings that
seemed composed of tattered black leather, and his
head ... A triangular skull, much like that of a horse,
was covered by thin skin, as if leather had been stretched
across bone. Teeth were exposed, fangs close together,
and the eyes were pits of red fire. Around his' head
danced a ring of flames, and his laughter turned Jarwa's
blood to ice.
The demon pushed past his lesser brethren, ignoring
those who rushed forward to defend the Sha-shahan. He
struck out, ripping flesh apart as easily as a Saaur tore
bread. Jarwa stood ready, knowing each moment stolen
before his death allowed more of his children to flee
through the rift.
Then the demon reared over Jarwa as a warrior stands
over a child. The Sha-shahan struck out with as much
strength as he could muster, raking his son's sword across
the creature's outstretched arm. The demon shrieked at
the pain, but then ignored the wound, slowing for a
second while black talons the size of daggers skewered
Jarwa, punching through armor and body, as he gripped
him around the middle.
The demon raised the ruler of the Saaur up toward his
face and held him at eye level. As the light in Jarwa's
eyes began to fade, the demon laughed and said, 'You are
the ruler of nothing, foolish mortal. Your soul is mine,
little creature of flesh! And after I eat you, still shall you
linger, to amuse me between feedings!'
For the first time since birth, Jarwa, Sha-shahan of
the Seven Nations, Ruler of the Empire of Grass, Lord
of the Nine Oceans, knew terror. And as his mind cried
out, his body went limp. From a vantage above his own
flesh, he felt his spirit rise, to fly to the Heavenly Horde,
yet something bound him and he could not leave. He
perceived his own body, being devoured by this demon,
and in his spirit's mind he heard the demon say, 'I am
Tugor, First Servant of Great Maarg, Ruler of the Fifth
Circle, and you are my plaything.'
Jarwa cried, but he had no voice, and he struggled,
though he had no body, and his spirit was held by mystic

chains as binding as iron on flesh. Wailing spirit voices
told hhnhim his companions were also falling. With what
will remained he turned his perceptions toward the distant
rift and saw the last of his children leaving. Taking
what small comfort he could from the sight of the rift
suddenly vanishing in the night, the shade of Jarwa
wished his son and his people safe haven and protection
from the snakes' deceit on the distant world the
Pantathians called Midkemia.


one
Challenge

Eric wiped his hands on his apron. He was doing little
real work since finishing his morning chores, merely
banking the fire so he would not have to restart a cold
forge should there be new work later in the day. He
considered that unlikely, as everyone in the town would
be lingering in the square after the Baron's arrival, but
horses were perverse creatures who threw shoes at the
least opportune moment, and wagons broke down at
the height of inconvenience. Or so his five years of assisting
the blacksmith had taught him. He glanced at where
Tyndal lay sleeping, his arm wrapped lovingly around a
jug of harsh brandy. He had begun drinking just after
breakfast, 'hoisting a few to the Baron's health,' he
claimed. He had fallen asleep sometime in the last hour
while Erik finished the smith's work for him. Fortunately,
there was little the boy couldn't do, he being large
for his age and an old hand at compensating for the
smith's shortcomings.
As Erik finished covering the coals with ashes, he could
hear his mother calling from the kitchen. He ignored her
demand that he hurry; there was more than enough
time. There was no need to rush: the Baron would not
have reached the edge of the town yet. The trumpet
announced his approach, not his arrival.
Erik rarely considered his appearance, but he knew
today was going to thrust him into the forefront of
Public scrutiny, and he felt he should attempt to look
respectable. With that thought, he paused to remove his
apron, carefully hung it on a peg, then plunged his arms
into a nearby bucket of water. Rubbing furiously, he
removed most of the black soot and dirt, then splashed
water on his face. Grabbing a large clean cloth off a pile of
rags used for polishing steel, he dried himself, removing
what the water hadn't through friction.
in the dancing surface of the water barrel he considered
his broken reflection: a pair of intense blue eyes under a
deep brow, a high forehead from which shoulder-length
blond hair swept back. No one today would doubt that he
was his father's son. His nose was more his mother's, but
his jaw and the broad grin that came when he smiled were
the mirror image of his father's. But where his father had
been a slender man, Erik was not. A narrow waist was his
only heritage from his father. He had his maternal grandfather's 
massive shoulders and arms, built up through
working at the forge since his tenth birthday. Erik's hands
could bend iron or break walnuts. His legs were also
powerful, from supporting plow horses who leaned on
the smith while he cut, filed, and shod their hooves, or
from helping to lift carts when replacing broken wheels.
Erik ran his hand over his chin, feeling the stubble.
Blond as a man could get, he had to shave only every third
day or so, for his beard was light. But he knew his mother
would insist on him looking his best today. He quickly
hurried to his pallet behind the forge, taking care not to
disturb the smith, and fetched his razor and mirror. A cold
shave was not his idea of pleasure, but far less irritating
than his mother would be should she decide to send him
back for the razor. He wet his face again and started
scraping. When he was done, he looked at himself one
more time in the shimmering water.
No woman would ever call Erik handsome: his features
were large, almost coarse, from the lantern jaw to the
broad forehead; but he possessed an open, honest look
that men found reassuring and women would come to
admire once they got used to his almost brutish appearance.
At fifteen years of age, he was already the size of a
man, and his strength was approaching the smith's; no
boy could best him at wrestling, and few tried anymore.
Hands that could be clumsy when helping set platters and
mugs in the common room were sure and adroit when
working in the forge.
Again his mother's voice cut through the otherwise
quiet morning, demanding he come inside now. He

rolled down his sleeves as he left the smithy, a small
building placed hard against the outside rear wall of
the livery. Circling the barn, he came into sight of the
kitchen. As he passed the open stable door, he glanced at
those horses left in his care. Three travelers were guesting
with his master, and their mounts were quietly eating
hay. The fourth horse was lying up from an injury and
she neighed a greeting at Erik. He couldn't help but
smile; in the weeks he had been tending her she had
come to expect his midmorning visits, as he trotted her
out to see how she mended.
I'll be back to visit later, girl,' he called softly to her.
The tone of the horse's snort revealed her less than
enthusiastic response. Despite his age, Erik was one of
the best handlers of horses in the region surrounding
Darkmoor, and had earned the reputation of being something
of a miracle worker. Most owners would have put
down the injured mare, but Owen Greylock, the Baron's
Swordmaster, valued her highly. He judged it a prudent
risk to put her into Erik's care, for if he could make her
sound enough to breed, a fine foal or two would be
worth the trouble. Erik was determined to make her
sound enough to ride again.
Erik saw his mother at the rear door of the Inn of the
Pintail's kitchen, her face a mask of resolve. A small
woman of steely strength and determination, Freida had
been pretty once, though hard work and the world's
cares had taken their toll. While not yet forty years of
age, she looked closer to sixty. Her hair was completely
grey where it had once been a luxurious brown, and her
green eyes were set in a face of lines and angles.
'Quickly,' she commanded.
'He'll not be here for some time,' answered Erik, hiding
his irritation poorly.
'There is only a moment,' she replied, 'and should we
lose it, we shall never again have the chance. He's ill and
may not return again.'
Erik's brow furrowed at the unspoken implication of
that statement, but his mother said nothing more. The
Baron rarely visited his smaller holdings anymore, save

for occasional ceremonies; at harvest it was the custom
for him to visit one of the villages and towns that provided
Darkmoor with most of its wealth, the finest grapes
and wine in the world, but the Baron visited only a single
vintners' hall, and the one in the town of Ravensburg
was among the least important. Besides, Erik was convinced
that for the last ten years the Baron had intentionally
avoided this particular town, and knew the
reason why.
Glancing at his mother, he recalled with a bitter taste
in his mouth how, ten years before, she had half dragged,
half led Erik through the crowd watching the Baron's
arrival. Erik remembered the looks of astonishment and
horror on the faces of the town officials, guildmasters,
vintners, and growers when his mother had demanded
that the Baron admit to Erik's paternity. What should
have been a joyous celebration of the first taste of the
harvest was turned into an embarrassment for all in the
town, especially for little Erik. Several men of position
had come to Freida several times after that, asking her
forbearance in the future, a plea she politely listened to
without comment or promise.
'Stop your woolgathering and come inside,' Freida demanded.
She turned, and he followed her inside the
kitchen.
Rosalyn smiled as Erik entered, and he nodded at the
serving girl. The same age and companions since babyhood,
Erik and the innkeeper's daughter had been like
brother and sister, confidants and best friends. Lately he
had become aware that something deeper was blossoming
in her, though he was unsure what to do about it. He
loved her, but in a brotherly fashion, and he had never
thought of her as a possible wife - his mother's obsession
closed off any discussion of such mundane concerns as
marriage, trade, or travel. of all the boys his age in the
town, he was the only one not officially employed at a
craft. His apprenticeship to Tyndal was informal, and
despite his talent for the craft, he had no established
standing with the guild offices, either in the Western
Capital of Krondor or in the King's city of Rillanon. Nor
would his mother let him discuss having the smith live
up to his oft-repeated promise of forwarding a formal
petition to the guild to admit Erik as his apprentice. This
should have been the end of Erik's first year as an apprentice
or working at a trade. Even though he knew his
way around a forge better than apprentices two or three
years older, he would start two years behind others, if his
mother let him apprentice the next spring.
His mother, whose head barely reached his chin, said,
'Let me look at you.' She reached up and took his chin in
her hand, as if he were still a child, not nearly a man, and
turned his head one way, then another. With a dissatisfied
clucking sound, she said, 'You're still stained
with soot.'
'Mother, I'm a blacksmith!' he protested.
'Clean yourself in the sink!' she commanded.
Erik knew better than to say anything. His mother was
a creature of iron will and unbending certainty. Early he
had learned never to argue with her; even when he was
wrongly accused of some transgression, he would simply
and quietly take whatever discipline was meted out, for
to protest would only increase the punishment. Erik
stripped off his shirt and laid it over the back of a chair
next to the table used to clean and prepare meats. He saw
Rosalyn's amusement at his being bullied by his small
mother, and he feigned a scowl at her. Her smile only
broadened as she turned away, picking up a large basket
of freshly washed vegetables to carry them into the
common room. Turning at the door, she bumped it open
and as she backed through stuck her tongue out at him.
Erik smiled as he plunged his arms into the water she
had just abandoned after cleaning the vegetables.
Rosalyn could make him smile as could no other person.
He might not fully understand the powerful stirrings and
confusing urges that woke him late at night as he
dreamed about one or another young woman in the
village. he understood the specifics of mating, as any
child raised around animals did, but the emotional confusion
was new to him. At least Rosalyn didn't confuse
him the way some of the older girls did, and of one thing
he was certain: she was his best friend in the world. As he
splashed water on his face again, he heard his mother
say, 'Use the soap.'
He sighed and picked up the foul-smelling block of
soap sitting on the back of the sink. A caustic mix of lye,
ash, rendered tallow, and sand used to scrape clean serving
platters and cooking pots, it would peel the skin from
face and hands with repeated use. Erik used as little as he
could get away with, but when he was done he was
forced to admit that a fairly impressive amount of soot
had come off into the sink.
He managed to rinse off the soap before his skin began
to blister, and took a cloth handed him by his mother. He
dried and put his shirt back on.
Leaving the kitchen, they entered the common room,
where Rosalyn was finishing putting the vegetables into
the large cauldron of stew that hung on a hook at the
hearth. The mix would simmer slowly all afternoon, filling
the common room with a savory smell that would have
mouths watering by suppertime. Rosalyn smiled at Erik as
he passed, and despite her cheerfulness, he felt his mood
darkening as he anticipated the coming public scene.

Reaching the entrance to the inn, Erik and his mother
discovered Milo, the innkeeper, peering through the open
door. The portly man, with a nose like a squashed cabbage
from years of ejecting ruffians from the common room,
drew upon a long pipe as he observed the calm town.
'Could be a quiet afternoon, Freida.'
'But a frantic evening, Father,' said Rosalyn as she came
to stand at Erik's side. 'Once the people tire of waiting for a
glimpse of the Baron, they'll all come here.'
Milo turned with a smile and winked at his daughter.
'An outcome to be devoutly prayed for. I trust the Lady of
Luck has no other plans.'
Freida muttered, 'Ruthia has better things to waste her
good luck on, Milo.'Taking her powerfully built son by the
hand, as if he were still a baby, she led him purposefully
through the door.
As Erik and his mother left the confines of the inn,
Rosalyn said, 'She's determined, Father.'
'That she is and always has been,' he said, shaking his
head and puffing on his pipe. 'Even as a child she was most
headstrong, willful . . .'He put his arm around his daughter's 
shoulder. 'Nothing like your mother, I'm pleased to
say.'
Rosalyn said, 'The gossips have it that you were one of
the many seeking Freida's hand years ago.'
Milo chuckled. 'They do, do they?' Clucking his tongue,
he added, 'Well, that's the truth. Most men my age were.'
He smiled down at his daughter. 'Best thing that happened
was her Saying no. And your mother saying yes.' He
moved away from his only child and said, 'Most of the
boys were after Freida. She was a rare beauty in those
days. Green flashing eyes and chestnut hair, slender but
ample where it counts, and a proud look that could make a
man's pulse race. She moved like a racehorse and carried
herself like a queen. it's why she caught the Baron's eye.'
A trumpet sounded from the edge of the town square
and Rosalyn said, 'I'd better be back to the kitchen.'
Milo nodded. 'I'm going down to the square to see what
happens, but I'll come straight back.'
Rosalyn gripped his hand for a moment, and her father
saw the concern in her eyes she had hidden from Erik.
Nodding his understanding, he squeezed her hand for an
instant, then released it. He turned and made his way
through the street in front of the inn, following the route
taken by Erik and Freida.

Erik used his bulk to ease throughthe crowd. Despite his
strength, he was by nature a gentle youngster and would
not use force, but his very presence caused others to give
way. Broad of shoulders and arms, he could have been a
warrior by his looks, but he had a strong distaste for
conflict. Quiet and introspective, after work he preferred a
quiet cup of broth to curb his appetite while waiting for

dinner, as he listened to the old men of the town tell
stories, to the roughhousing and attempted girl-chasing
his contemporaries saw as the height of recreation. The
occasional girl who turned her attention upon him almost
inevitably found his reticence daunting, but it was nothing
more than his inability to think of anything clever to say.
The prospect of any intimacy with a girl terrified Erik.
A familiar voice called his name, and Erik turned to see a
ragged figure push through the press, using nimble quickness
rather than size to navigate a path to Erik's side.
'Hello,' said Erik in greeting.
'Erik. Freida,' said the youth in return. Rupert Avery,
known by everyone in the village as Roo, was the one
boy Freida had forbidden Erik to play with as a child, on
many occasions, and the one boy Erik had preferred to

play with. Roo's father was a teamster, a rough man who
was either absent from the village - driving his team
down to Krondor, Malac's Cross, or Durrony's Vale - or
lying drunken in his bed. Roo had grown up wild, and
there was something dangerous and unpredictable in his
nature, which was why Erik had been drawn to him. If
Erik had no tongue to charm the ladies, Roo was a master
of seduction, at least to hear him tell it. A knave and a
liar, as well as an occasional thief, Roo was Erik's closest
friend after Rosalyn.
Freida nodded almost imperceptibly in return. She still
didn't like the youngster after knowing him all his life;
she suspected his hand in every dishonest act or criminal
event that took place in Ravensburg. Truth to be told, she
was more often right than not. She glanced at her son
and bit back a bitter comment. Now he was fifteen years
of age, Erik's willingness to be controlled by his mother
was lessening. He had assumed most of the duties around
the forge from Tyndal, who was drunk five days out of
seven.
Roo said, 'So you're going to ambush the Baron
again?'
Freida threw him a black look. Erik merely looked
embarrassed. Roo grinned. He had a narrow face, intelligent
eyes, and a quick smile, despite uneven teeth. Even
further from being handsome than Erik, he had something
alive in his manner and a quick intensity that those
who knew him found likeable, even captivating. But Erik
also knew he had a murderous temper and lost it often,
which had caused him to use Erik's friendship as a shield
against the other boys on more than one occasion. Few
boys of the town would challenge Erik: he was too
strong. While slow to anger, on the rare occasion when
Erik had lost his temper, he had been a terrible sight to
behold. He had once hit a boy's arm in a moment of rage.
The blow propelled the lad completely across the courtyard
of the inn and broke the arm.
Roo pulled aside his ragged cloak, revealing far
better-looking clothing beneath, and Erik saw in his hand
a long-necked green glass bottle. Clearly etched into the
neck of the bottle was a baronial crest.
Erik rolled his eyes heavenward. 'Anxious to lose a
hand, Roo?' he said quietly in an exasperated tone.
'I helped Father unload his wagon last night.'
'What is it?'
'Hand-selected berry wine,' he said.
Erik grimaced. With Darkmoor being the center of the
wine trade in the Kingdom of the Isles, the primary
industry of Ravensburg was wine, as it was With most of
the towns and villages in the barony. To the north, oak
cutters and barrel makers labored to produce the fermenting
vats and aging barrels for the wine, as well as
corks, while to the south, glassmakers produced bottles,
but the central area of the barony was dedicated to growing
grapes.
While fine wines were produced in the Free Cities
of Natal and Yabon province to the west, none matched
the complexity, character, and age-worthiness of
those produced in the Barony of Darkmoor. Even the
difficult-to-grow Pinot Noir grape, originally imported
from Bas-Tyra, flourished in Darkmoor as it did in no
other place in the Kingdom. Lush reds and crisp whites,
sparkling wines for celebration - Darkmoor's finest product
brought the highest prices from the northern
borders south into the heart of the Empire of Great Kesh.
And few wines were as highly prized as the intensely
sweet dessert wine called berry wine.
Made from grapes shriveled by a mysterious sweet rot
that occasionally afflicted the grapes, it was rare and
costly; the bottle Roo held under his cloak was equal in
worth to a farmer's income for a half year. And from the
crest on the bottle, Erik knew it was from the Baron's
private stock, shipped from the baronial capital city of

Darkmoor to the Ravensburg guildhall for the Baron's
visit. While thieves no longer had their hands cut off,
being discovered with the bottle could put Roo on the
King's labor gang for five years.
Trumpets sounded again and the first of the Baron's
guards rode into view, their banners snapping in the
afternoon breeze, their horses' iron shoes striking sparks
on the stones of the square. Reflexively, Erik looked at
their legs, for signs of lameness, and saw none; whatever
else could be said of the Baron's management of
his estates, his cavalry always attended to their mounts.
The riders moved into the square and turned. out from
the small fountain that sat at its center, formed two
lines, and slowly backed the commoners away. After a
few minutes, the entire area before the Growers' and
Vintners' Hall had been cleared for the coach that
followed.
More soldiers rode past, each wearing the grey tabard
bearing the crest of Darkmoor: a red heater shield upon
which stood a black raven clutching a holly branch in its
beak. This group of soldiers also wore a golden circlet
sewn above the crest, indicating they were the Baron's
personal guards.
At last the coach rolled into view, and Erik suddenly
realized he was holding his breath. Refusing to let his
mother's obsession control even the air in his lungs, he
quietly let out a long breath and willed himself to relax.
He heard others in the crowd commenting. Rumors
regarding the Baron's failing vitality had circulated in
the barony for more than a year now, and his sitting
beside his wife in the coach, rather than astride his
horse at the head of his guards, signaled that he must be
ill in truth.
Erik's attention was drawn to two boys, riding matching
chestnut horses, followed by a pair of soldiers carrying
the baronial ensign of Darkmoor. The cadency mark
on the left banner heralded Manfred von Darkmoor,
second son to the Baron. The mark on the right-hand
banner proclaimed Stefan von Darkmoor, elder son of
the Baron. Alike enough to appear twins, despite a
year's age difference, the boys rode with an expert ease
that Erik found admirable.
Manfred scanned the crowd, and when his gaze at last
fell upon Erik, he frowned. Stefan saw where Manfred
stared and said something to his brother, recalling his
attention to the matters at hand. The young men were
dressed in similar fashion: high riding boots, tight-fitting
breeches with full leather seats, long white silk shirts
with a sleeveless vest of fine leather, and large berets of
black felt, each adorned with a large golden baronial
badge, from which rose a red-dyed eagle's feather. At
their sides they wore rapiers, and each was accounted
an expert in their use despite their youth.
Freida gestured with her chin at Stefan, and whispered
harshly, 'Your place, Erik.'
Erik felt himself flush in embarrassment, but he knew
the worst was yet to come. The coach stopped and
coachmen leaped down to open the door as two
burghers came forward to greet the Baron. First to leave
the coach was a proud-looking woman, her features set
in an expression of haughty disdain that detracted from
her beauty. One glance at the two young men, who
now dismounted their horses, confirmed that they were
mother and sons. All three were dark, slender, and tall.
Both youths came to stand before their mother and
bowed in greeting. The Baroness scanned the crowd as
her sons came to her side, and when she spied Erik
looming over those around him, her expression darkened 
even more.
A herald called out, 'His lordship, Otto, Baron of
Darkmoor, Lord of Ravensburg!'

The crowd let out a respectable if not overly
enthusiastic cheer; the Baron was not particularly loved
by his people, but neither was he held in disregard.
Taxes were high, but then taxes were always high, and
whatever protection the Baron's soldiers afforded the
townsfolk from bandits and raiders was barely visible;
since it was far from any border or the wild lands of the
Western Realm, few rogues and villains troubled honest
travelers near Darkmoor. No goblin or troll had been
seen in these mountains in the memory of the oldest
man living in Ravensburg, so few saw much benefit in
supporting soldiers who did little more than ride escort
for their lord, polish armor, and eat. Still, the harvest
was good, food was in bountiful supply and affordable,
and order commanded gratitude from the citizens of the
Barony.
When the cheer died down, the Baron turned to the
notables of the town waiting to greet him and an audible
gasp rang through the crowd. The man who stepped
from the coach had once been equal to Erik in size, but
now he stooped, as if thirty years older than his
forty-five years. Though still broad of shoulder, his
naturally slender build was now dramatically gaunt in
contrast. His hair, once golden, was lank and grey, and
his face was ashen, sunken cheeks white as bleached
parchment. The square jaw and proud forehead were
bony ridges that emphasized the look of illness. The
Baron was helped by his younger son's firm grip on his
left arm. His movements were jerky and he looked as if
he might fall.
Someone near Erik said, 'So then it's true about the
seizure.'
Erik wondered if the Baron's condition might be
aggravated by his mother's plan, but as if hearing his
thoughts, Freida said, 'I must do this.'
Pushing past those who stood before her, she moved
quickly between two mounted guardsmen before they
could turn her back. 'As a free woman of the Kingdom,
I claim my right to be heard!' she cried in a voice loud
enough to carry across the square.
No one spoke. All eyes regarded the wiry woman as
she pointed an accusing finger at the Baron. 'Otto von
Darkmoor, will you acknowledge Erik von Darkmoor as
your son?'                                
The obviously ill Baron paused and turned to regard                        
the woman who had asked him this question each time                         
he had visited Ravensburg. His eyes searched past her                       
and found her son, standing quietly behind her. Seeing                      
his own image of younger years before him, Otto let his                     
gaze linger upon Erik; then the Baroness came to 
side and whispered quickly in his ear. With an expression 
of sadness on his face, the Baron shook his head
slightly as he turned away from Erik's mother and,
without comment, moved into the largest building in
the town, the Growers' and Vintners' Hall. The Baroness                     
fixed a hard gaze upon Freida and Erik, barely masking                           
her anger, before she turned to follow her husband into                     
 the hall.                                
Roo let out a sigh, and as one the crowd seemed to                         
exhale. 'Well, that's that, then.'         
Erik said, 'I don't think we'll do this again.'                            
As Freida moved back toward them, Roo said, 'Why?                          
Do you think your mother's going to stop if she gets
another chance?'                         
Erik said, 'She won't get another chance. He's dying.'                     
'How do you know?'                        
Erik shrugged. 'The way he looked at me. He was                            
saying good-bye.'                        
Freida walked past her son and Roo, her expression
unreadable as she said, 'We have work to do.'
Roo glanced back to where the two brothers, Manfred
and Stefan, watched Erik closely, speaking quietly
together. Manfred was restraining Stefan, who seemed
eager to cross the square and confront Erik. Roo said,
'Your half brothers don't care for you much, do they?
Especially that Stefan.'
Erik shrugged, but it was Freida who spoke. 'He knows
that soon he will inherit what is rightfully Erik's.' Roo
and Erik exchanged glances. Both knew better than to
argue with Freida. She had always claimed that the
Baron had wed her one spring night, in the woodland
chapel, before a monk of Dala, Shield of the Weak. Then
later he had requested and received an annulment so he
could marry the daughter of the Duke of Ran, the records
sealed by royal command for political reasons.
his                             Roo said, 'Then that is the last of it, for
certain.'
Erik gave him a questioning look. 'What do you
mean?'
                               'If you're right, next year Stefan will be Baron.
By the look of things, he's not the sort to hesitate about
publicly calling your mother a liar.'
Freida stopped walking. Her face showed a hopelessness 
Erik had never seen before. 'He wouldn't dare,' she
said, more a plea than a challenge. She attempted to look
defiant, but her eyes showed she knew Roo was right.
'Come, Mother,' said Erik softly. 'Let's go home. The

forge is banked, but if there's work, I'll need to get the
fire hot again. Tyndal is certain to be in no condition to
do it.' He gently put his arm upon his mother's shoulder,
astonished at how frail she suddenly felt. She quietly
allowed him to guide her along.
The townspeople stepped away, giving the young
smith and his mother an open passageway from the
square, all sensing that somehow there would soon be an
ending to this tradition, begun fifteen years earlier, when
first the beautiful and fiery Freida had boldly stepped
forward and held out the squalling baby, demanding that
Otto von Darkmoor recognize the child as his own.
Nearly every soul in the Barony knew the story. She had
confronted him five years later, and again he had not
rebutted her claim. His silence gave her declaration credence,
and for years the tale of the bastard child of the
Baron of Darkmoor had been a source of local lore, good
for a drink from passing strangers bound between
Eastern and Western Realms of the Kingdom.
The mystery was always in the Baron's silence, for had
he denied it but once, from that day forward Freida
would have had the burden of proof put squarely upon
herself. The itinerant monk was never seen again in that
region, and no other witness existed. And Freida had
become the drudge of an innkeeper, and the boy a
blacksmith's helper.
Some claimed that the Baron was merely being kind to
Freida, refusing to publicly brand her a liar, for while he
had obviously fathered her child, the claim of marriage
was certainly the ranting of a disturbed woman or the
calculated concoction of one seeking some advantage.
Others said the Baron was too much a coward to
proclaim a public lie by saying Erik was not his; for
anyone had merely to glance at Otto to see that Erik was
his very shadow. The Baron carried shame for a badge
where a better man would wear honor, for to acknowledge
Erik, even as a bastard son, would cast doubt upon
his own children's right to inherit, and bring down the
wrath of his wife upon him.
But for whatever reason, by saying nothing, every
year, he let the challenge stand unanswered. Erik could
claim the name 'von Darkmoor' because the Baron had
never denied him the right.
Slowly they moved through the street, back toward the
inn. Roo, never one to let two minutes pass in silence
back to back, said, 'You going to do anything special
tonight, Erik?'

Erik knew what Roo referred to: the Baron's visit was
an excuse for a public holiday, nothing as formal as the
.traditional festivals, but enough so that men would pack
the little Inn of the Pintail and drink and gamble most of
the night, and many of the young girls of the town would
be down at the fountain, waiting for the young men to
drink enough liquid courage to come pay court. There
would be plenty of work to keep Erik busy. He said as
much.
Roo said, 'They are their mother's sons, no doubt of
that.'
Erik knew whom Roo meant: his half brothers. Roo
glanced over his shoulder, down the street to the square,
where the Growers' and Vintners' Hall and the Baron's
carriage were still visible, and found that the two noble
boys had returned outside, ostensibly to oversee the removal
of the Baron's baggage, but both were in hushed
conversation, their eyes fixed upon Erik's retreating
back. Roo felt an impulse to make a rude gesture in their
direction, but thought better of it. Even at this distance,
he could tell their expression was of open hostility and
dark anger. Turning back toward the inn, Roo hurried his
step to catch up to Erik.

Darkness brought a lessening of the day's activities
everywhere but at the Inn of the Pintail, where workers
and town merchants who were not of sufficient rank to
attend the dinner at the Growers' and Vintners' Hall
gathered to enjoy a mug of wine or ale. A near-celebratory
atmosphere gripped the inn as men told stories in
loud voices, played cards and dice for copper coins, and
tested their skill at a dart board.
Erik had been pressed into kitchen duty, as he often
was when things got busy. While his mother was only a
serving woman, Milo allowed her the position of
kitchen supervisor, simply because Freida was in the
habit of telling everyone what they should be doing.
That she was almost always right in her estimation of
everyone's duties failed to mitigate the irritation such an
attitude generated. Many serving women had come and
gone at the inn over the years, more than a few telling
Milo the reasons for their departure. His answer was
always the same: she was a longtime friend and they
were not.
By any reasonable measure, they acted the family,
Freida and Erik, Milo and Rosalyn, husband and wife
and brother and sister. Though each slept apart from the
others, Milo in his room, Rosalyn in her own, Freida in
a loft over the kitchen, and Erik upon a pallet in the
barn, from awakening to bedtime they played their parts
naturally. Freida ran the inn as if it were her own, and
Milo was unwilling to overrule her, mostly because she
did a wonderful job, but also because he, more than
anyone, understood the pain Freida lived with daily.
Though she would never admit it to anyone, she still
loved the Baron, and milo was convinced that her
demand for recognition of her son was a twisted legacy
of that love, a desperate grasping at some token that for
a brief time she had truly loved and been loved.
Erik pushed open the common room door and carried
another cask of ordinary wine behind the bar, setting it
at Milo's feet. The old man removed the empty cask
from the barrel rack and moved it aside, while Erik
easily lifted the new one into its place. Placing a clean
tap against the bung, Milo drove it home with a single
blow from a wooden mallet, then poured himself a
small cup to test the content. Making a face, he said,
'Why, in the midst of the finest wine in the world, do
we drink this?'
Erik laughed. 'Because it's all we can afford, milo.'
The innkeeper shrugged. 'You have an irritating habit
of being honest.' Smiling, he said, 'Well, it's all the same
for effect, then, isn't it? Three mugs of this will get you
just as tipsy as three mugs of the Baron's finest, won't
they?'
At mention of the Baron, Erik's face lost its merry
expression. 'I wouldn't know,' he said as he turned
away.
Milo put his hand on Erik's shoulder, restraining him.

'Sorry, lad.'
Erik shrugged. 'No slight intended, Milo - none
taken.'
'Why don't you give yourself a break,' said the innkeeper. '
I can sense things are quieting down.'
This brought a grin from Erik, for the sound in the
common room was close to deafening, with laughter,
animated conversation, and general rowdiness the norm.
'If you say so.'
Erik moved around from behind the bar, then pushed
through the common room, and as he reached the door,
Rosalyn threw him an accusatory look. He mouthed, 'I'll
be back,' and she threw her gaze heavenward a moment
in feigned aggravation. Then she was again grabbing
mugs off tables, heading back toward the bar.
The night was cool; fall was full upon them. At any
moment it might turn bitter cold in the mountains of
Darkmoor. Though they were not as high as the Calastius
to the west or the Teeth of the World in the far
north, still snow graced the peaks in the colder winters,
and frost was a worry to growers in any season but
summer.
Erik moved toward the town square, and as he anticipated,
a few boys and girls still sat around the edge of
the fountain before the Growers' and Vintners' Hall.
Roo was speaking in low tones to a girl who managed to
laugh at his suggestion while keeping an askance expression
on her face. She was also employing her hands to
good effect, limiting Roo's to acceptable portions of her
anatomy.
Erik said, 'Evening, Roo. Gwen.'
The girl's expression brightened as Erik came into
view. one of the prettier girls in town, with red hair and
large green eyes, Gwen had attempted to catch Erik's eye
on more than one occasion. She called his name as she
firmly pushed Roo's hands away. A few of the other
youngsters of the town greeted the blacksmith's helper,
and Roo said, 'Finished at the inn?'
Erik shook his head. 'Just a break. I'll have to head
back in a few minutes. Thought I'd get some air. Gets
very smoky in there, and the noise . . .'
. Gwen was about to speak when something in Roo's
expression caused both her and Erik to turn. Coming into
the light of the torches set around the fountain were two
figures, dressed in fine clothing, swords swinging at their
sides.
Gwen came to her feet and attempted an awkward
curtsy. others followed, but Erik stood silently, and Roo
sat open-mouthed.
Stefan and Manfred von Darkmoor looked around the
gathered boys and girls, roughly the same age as themselves,
but their demeanor and finery set them apart as
clearly as if they had been swans moving among geese
and ducks in a pond. They had obviously been drinking
from the way they moved, with the careful control of one
who is masking intoxication.
As Stefan's gaze settled on Erik, his expression
darkened, but Manfred put a restraining hand upon his
arm. Whispering something in Stefan's ear, the younger
brother maintained a tight grip. Stefan at last nodded
once, his eyes heavy-lidded, and forced a cold smile to his
lips. Ignoring Erik and Roo he bowed slightly toward
Gwen and said, 'Miss, it seems my father and the town
burghers are intent on discussing issues of wine and
grapes beyond my understanding and patience. Perhaps
you might care to acquaint us with some more ...
interesting diversions?'
. Gwen blushed and then threw Erik a glance. He
frowned at her and slightly shook his head no. As if
challenging his right to advise her, she jumped lightly

down from the low wall around the fountain and said,
'Sir, I would be delighted.' She called another girl who
was sitting nearby. 'Katherine, join us!'
Gwen took Stefan's extended arm like a lady of the
court, and Katherine awkwardly followed her example
with Manfred. They strolled away from the fountain,
Gwen exaggerating the sway of her hips as they vanished
into the darkness.
After a moment, Erik said, 'We'd better follow.'
Roo came to stand directly in front of his friend.
'Looking for a fight?'
'No, but those two won't take no for an answer and
the girls
Roo put his hand firmly on Erik's chest, as if to prevent
his moving forward. ' . . . know what they're getting
into with noble sons,' he finished. 'Gwen's no baby.
And Stefan won't be the first to get her to pull up her
skirts. And you're about the only boy in town who
hasn't bedded Katherine.' Looking over his shoulder to
where the four had vanished into the night, he added,
'Though I thought the girls had better taste than that.'
Roo lowered his voice so that only Erik could hear,
and his tone took on a harshness that his friend recognized.
Roo used it only when he was deadly serious
about a topic. 'Erik, the day may come when you will
have to face your swine of a brother. And when it does,
you will probably have to kill him.' Erik's brow
furrowed at Roo's tone and words. 'But not tonight.
And not over Gwen. Now, don't you have to get back to
the inn?'
Erik nodded, gently removing Roo's hand from his
chest. He stood motionless for a second, trying to digest
what his friend had just said. Then, shaking his head, he
turned and walked back toward the inn.


TWO

Deaths

Tyndal was dead.
Erik still couldn't believe it. Each time he came into the
forge during the last two months he had expected to see
the burly smith either asleep on his pallet at the rear of
the forge or hard at work. The man's sense of humor
when he wasn't sober, or his dark moodiness when he
was - everything about him was etched in every corner
of this place where Erik had learned his craft for the
previous six years.
Erik inspected the coals from the previous night's fire
and judged how much wood to add to bring it back to
life. A miller's wagon had lurched into the courtyard the
night before with a broken axle, and there would be
ample work to fill his day. He still couldn't get over
Tyndal's not being there.
Two months previously, Erik had climbed down from
his loft expecting the events of the morning to be as
usual, but one glance at Tyndal's regular resting place
had sent the hairs on Erik's neck straight up. Erik had
seen the smith drunk to a stupor, but this was something
else. There was a stiffness to the old man that Erik instinctively
recognized. He had never seen a dead man
before, but he had seen many animals dead in the fields,
and there was something eerily familiar in the smith's
attitude. Erik touched Tyndal to assure himself the old
blacksmith was truly dead, and when he touched cold

skin he jerked his hand away as if from a burn.
The local priest of Killian, who acted as a healer for
most of the poor in the town, quickly confirmed that
Tyndal had indeed drunk his last bottle of wine. Since
he had no family, it was left to Milo to dispose of the
corpse, and he arranged a hasty funeral, with a quick
pyre. The ashes were scattered, and a prayer was said to
the Singer of Green Silence by her priest, though smiths
were.more correctly considered the province of TithOnanka,
the god of war. Erik felt that somehow the
prayer to Killian, the goddess of the forest and field, was
appropriate: Tyndal had repaired perhaps one sword in
the six years Erik had been around the forge, but countless
plows, tillers, and other implements of farming.
A sound in the distance caught Erik's ear. A midday
coach was coming along the western road from
Krondor, the Prince's City. Erik knew that the chances
were excellent it was Percy of Rimmerton at the reins,
and if so, he would be putting in to the Pintail for refreshments
for his horses and passengers. The driver was
a rail-thin man of enormous appetite who loved Freida's
cooking.
As Erik had anticipated, within minutes the sounds of
iron-shod wheels and hooves echoed loudly as the commercial
coach approached the courtyard. Then it turned
in and with a loud 'Whoa,' Percy reined in his team of
four. The commercial coaches had begun their travel
between Salador and Krondor five years previously and
had proved a great success for their innovator, a
wealthy merchant in Krondor named Jacob Esterbrook,
who was now planning a coach line from Salador to
Bas-Tyra, according to gossip. Each coach was essentially
a wagon, with a covered roof and sides, and a small
tailgate that when lowered provided a step into the
wagon. A pair of planks along the sides provided indifferent
seating, and the ride was lacking any pretense to
comfort, as the wagons were rudely sprung. But the
journey was swift compared to that by caravan, and for
those unable to secure their own mounts to ride, almost
as rapid as horseback.
'Ho, Percy,' said Erik.
'Erik,' replied the coachman, whose long thin face
appeared to have been frozen in a grin surrounded by
road dirt. He turned to his two passengers, a man dressed
well and another in plain garments. 'Ravensburg, sirs.'
The plainly dressed man nodded and moved to the rear

of the coach as Erik obliged Percy by unlatching the
tailgate. 'Are you lying over?' he asked the driver.
'No,' answered Percy. 'We go on to Wolverton, where
this other gentleman is bound; then we are done
with this run.'Wolverton was the next town in the direction
of Darkmoor, and less than an hour away by fast
coach. Erik knew that the passenger would be unlikely to
welcome a meal stop this close to his destination. 'From
there I'm going empty to Darkmoor, so there's ample
time and no hurry. Tell your mother I'll be back in a few
days, gods willing, and I'll have an extra of her best meat
pie.' Percy's grin continued to split his thin face as he
patted his stomach, mimicking hunger.
Erik nodded as the driver turned his team and quickly
had them up to a trot and out of the courtyard. Erik
turned to the man who had dismounted the coach, to ask
if he required lodging, and found him vanishing around
the corner of the barn.
'Sir!' Erik called, and hurried after.
He circled the barn and reached the forge, finding that
the stranger had set down his bag and was removing his
travel cloak. The man was as broad of shoulder and thick
of arm as Erik, though he was a full head shorter. He had
a fringe of long grey hair receding from his bald pate, and
a thoughtful, almost scholarly expression. His brows
were bushy and black, and his face was clean-shaven,
though the stubble grown while traveling was almost
white.
And he inspected everything carefully. He turned to
see the young man standing at the door and said, 'You
must be the apprentice. You keep an orderly forge,
youngster. That is good.' He spoke with the odd flat
twang typical of those from the Far Coast or the Sunset
Islands.
'Who are you?' asked Erik.
'Nathan is my name. I'm the new smith sent up from
Krondor.'
'From Krondor? New smith?' Erik's expression
showed his confusion.
The large man shrugged as he hung his travel cloak on
a wall peg. 'The guild asked if I wished this forge. I said
yes, and here I am.'
'But it's my smithy,' said Erik.
'It's a baronial charge, boy,' said Nathan, his tone turning
firm. 'You might be competent in most things - you
might even be talented - but in time of war you'd be
mending armor and tending the barony's mounts, as well
as taking care of farmers' draft horses.'
'War!' exclaimed Erik. 'War hasn't touched Darkmoor
since it was conquered!'
The man took a quick step forward and put his hand
on Erik's shoulder, gripping him firmly. 'I think I know
how you feel. But law is law. You're a guild apprentice
'No.'
The smith's brows lowered. 'No? Didn't your master
register you with the guild?'
With conflicting emotions, anger and ironic amusement,
Erik said, 'My former master was drunk most of
the time. I've conducted the business of this forge since I
was ten years of age, Master Smith. For years he promised
to take the journey to Krondor or to Rillanon, to
register my apprenticeship with the guild office. For the
first three years I begged him to send a message by
Kingdom Post, but after that ... I was too busy to
continue begging. He's been dead for two months now,
and I've done well enough tending the barony's needs.'
The man stroked his chin and then shook his head.
'This is a problem. youngster. You're three years older
than most who begin their apprenticeship -'
'Begin!' said Erik, his anger now coming to the fore. 'I
can match skills with any guild smith -'
Nathan's expression darkened. 'That's not the point!'

he roared, his own anger at being interrupted giving him
volume enough to silence Erik. 'That's not the point,' he
repeated more quietly when he saw that Erik was listening. '
You may be the finest smith in the Kingdom, in all
of Midkemia, but no one at the guild knows this. You
have not been listed on the roster of apprentices. and no
one with a guildmaster's rank has vouched for your
work. So you must begin -
'I will not apprentice for seven more years!' said Erik,
his temper threatening to get the better of him.
Nathan said, 'Interrupt me again, boy, and I'll cease
being civil with you.'
Erik's expression showed he was not in the least bit
apologetic, but he stayed silent.
Nathan said. 'You can go to Krondor or Rillanon and
petition the guild. You'll be tested and evaluated. if you
show you know enough, you'll be allowed to apprentice,
or perhaps you'll even get journeyman's rank, though I
doubt that seriously; even if you're the best they've ever
seen, there's still the politics of it. Few men are willing to
grant to another rank without the sweat to have earned
it. And there's always the possibility they'll call you a
presumptuous lout and throw you into the street.' The
last came with a hard tone, and suddenly Erik realized
that this man had spent at least seven years as an apprentice
and perhaps twice that as a journeyman before
gaining his master's badge - and to him Erik must sound
a whining child.
'Or you can apprentice here, in your hometown with
your family and friends, and be patient. If you are indeed
as well taught as you claim, I'll certify you as quickly as I
can, so you can petition for a forge of your own.'
Erik looked as if he was again going to object that this
was his forge, but he said nothing. Nathan continued, 'Or
you can set out today, on your own, and become an
independent smith. With your talent you'll make a
living. But without a guild badge you'll never set up shop
in any but the rudest villages, unless you wish to travel to
the frontier. For no noble will trust his horses and armor
to any but a guildmaster, and the rich common folk to no
less than a guild journeyman. And that means, no matter
how gifted you are, you'll always be nothing more than a
common tinker.'
Erik remained silent, and after a moment Nathan said,
'Thoughtful, is it? That's good. Now, here's the choice of
it: you can stay and learn and perfect your skills and I'll
count myself a lucky sod for having a second pair of
trained hands around, belonging to someone I don't have
to teach every tiny thing. Or you can brood and be resentful,
and think you know as much as I, and be useless
to us both. There's only room for one master in this forge,
boy, and I am he. So there's the end of it, and there's the
choice. Do you need time to think on this?'
Erik paused, then said, 'No. I need no time to think
about it, Master Nathan.' Sighing, he added, 'You are
correct. There is only one master in a forge. I ...
'Spit it out, boy.'
'I have been responsible around here for so long I feel
as if it is my forge, and that I should have been given it by
the guild.'
Nathan nodded once. 'That's understandable.'
'But it's not your fault Tyndal was a slacker and my
time here counts for nothing.'
'None of that, boy
'Erik. My name is Erik.'
'None of that, Erik,' said Nathan; then suddenly he
swung hard and connected a roundhouse right that
knocked Erik onto his backside. 'And I told you, interrupt

me again and I'd cease being civil. I am a man of my
word.'
Erik sat rubbing his jaw, astonishment on his face. He
knew the smith had pulled the blow, but he could feel
the sting of it anyway. After a moment he said, 'Yes, sir.'
Nathan put out his hand and Erik took it. The smith
pulled Erik to his feet. 'I was about to say that any time
spent learning a craft counts. You only lack credentials. If
you're as good as you think you are, you'll be certified in
the minimum seven years. You'll be older than most
journeymen when you seek your own forge, but you'll
be younger than some, trust me on that. There are slower
lads that don't leave their master's forge until they are in
their late twenties. Remember this: you may be coming
late to your office, but your learning started four years
earlier than most boys' as well. Knowledge is knowledge,
and experience is experience, so you should have a far
shorter time of it from journeyman to master. In the end,
it will all work out.'
Turning slowly, as if examining the smithy once again,
he said, 'And from what I see here, if you can keep your
head right, we'll get along fine.'
There was an open friendliness in that remark which
caused Erik to forget his stinging jaw. He nodded. 'Yes,
sir.'
'Now, show me where I sleep.'
Without being told, Erik picked up the smith's travel
bag and cloak, and motioned. 'Tyndal had no family, so
he slept here. There's a small room around back, and I
sleep in the loft up there.' Erik pointed to the only place
he'd called his own for the last six years. 'I never thought
about moving into Tyndal's room - habit, I guess.' He led
the smith out the rear door and to the shed that Tyndal
had used for his bedroom.
'My former master was drunk most of the time, so I
fear this room is likely to be...' He opened the
door.
The smell that greeted them almost made Erik gag.
Nathan only stood a moment, then stepped away as he
said, 'I've worked with drunkards before, lad, and that's
the smell of sour sickness. Never seek to hide in a wine
bottle, Erik. It's a slow and painful death. Meet your
sorrows head on, and after you've wrestled with them,
put them behind.'
Something in his tone told Erik that Nathan wasn't
simply repeating an aphorism but was speaking from
belief. 'I can put this room right, sir, while you take your
ease at the inn.'
'I'd best make myself known to the innkeeper; he is to
be my landlord, after all. And I could use something to
eat.'
Erik realized he hadn't thought of that. The office of
guild smith might be granted by the guild and a patent for
a town might be exclusive, but otherwise the smith was
like any other tradesman, forced to make a profit the best
he knew how, and responsible for setting up his own
place of business. Erik said, 'Sir, Tyndal had no family.
Who. .
Nathan put his hand on Erik's shoulder. 'Who should I
be paying for all these tools?'
Erik nodded.
Nathan said, 'My own tools will be coming by freight
hauler any day now. I have no desire to take what is not
rightfully mine, Erik.' He scratched his day's growth of
whiskers as he thought. 'When you're ready to leave
Ravensburg and begin your own forge, let us assume
they go with you. You were his last apprentice, and
tradition has it that you are to pay the widow for the
tools. As he had no family, there's no one to pay, is
there?'
Erik realized what an incredibly generous offer he was
being made. An apprentice was expected somehow to
supplement his earnings so that by the time he reached
journeyman's rank he could purchase a complete set of
tools, and an anvil, and have the money to pay for the
construction of a forge if needed. Most young journeymen 
were able to begin modestly, but Tyndal, for all his
sloth in his last years, had been a master smith for seventeen
years and had every conceivable tool of the trade,
two and three of some. With proper care and cleaning,
Erik would be set up for life!
Erik said, 'If you would like, I can show you to the
kitchen.'
'I'll find my way. Just come get me when this room is
cleaned up.'
Erik nodded, and as Nathan moved off toward the rear
of the inn, the boy held his breath and went into Tyndal's
room. Throwing open the single window didn't help, and
Erik hurried back outside because of the stench. Unpleasant
odors bothered Erik, strong as he was in most
ways, and he confessed to a weak stomach. Though he
was used to the smell of the barn and forge, nevertheless
the odor of human illness and waste caused the bile to
rise in his gorge, and he had tears in his eyes from the
reek by the time he got Tyndal's bedding outside the hut.
Breathing through his mouth and turning his head
away, he hurried to the large iron tub his mother used for
washing and threw the filthy linens into it. As he was
building up the fire beneath, his mother approached.
'Who is this man claiming to be the new smith?' she
demanded.
Erik was in no mood to battle his mother, so he calmly
said, 'Not claiming; is. The guild sent him.'
'Well, did you tell him there already was a smith here?'
Erik got the fire under the tub going and stood up. As
calmly as he could manage, he said, 'No. This is a guild
forge. And I have no standing with the guild.' Thinking of
Tyndal's tools, he added, 'Nathan's being very generous
and is keeping me on. He'll apprentice me to the guild
and. . .'
Erik expected an argument, but instead his mother only
nodded once and left without further comment. Puzzled
by her lack of outburst, Erik stood a moment until the
crackling of the fire under the tub reminded him he had a
still-unfinished task. He took one of the hard cakes of soap
used to wash the inn's bedding and broke it in half. Tossing
the hard soap into the tub, he began stirring with a paddle.
As the water turned a deep brown, he thought: why no
argument from his mother? There was an air of resignation
from her that he had never seen before.
Leaving the sheets to simmer in the tub, Erik hurried
back to the smith's room, grabbing some rags and a
mineral oil cleaner he used on especially filthy tack and
tools. He removed the balance of Tyndal's possessions, a
single large chest and a sack of personal items. A rickety
wooden wardrobe he left inside, in case Nathan choose to
hang his cloaks and shirts there; he could always haul it

away later if the new smith didn't care for it.
When he had the last of Tyndal's possessions outside,
Erik regarded the meager pile. 'Not a lot to show for a
lifetime,' he muttered. He picked up the chest and hauled
it over to one corner of the small yard behind the barn,

and picked up the sack and placed it on top. He'd go
through them later to see what Tyndal had left that might
be of use. There were always poor farmers on the outskirts
of the vineyards who grew other than grapes, and
they always could use serviceable clothing.
Then Erik took the rags and cleaner and began scrubbing
years of accumulated grime off the walls.
Erik entered the kitchen to find Milo sitting at the big
table, staring across at Nathan, who was finishing a large
bowl of stew. milo was nodding at something the smith
had just said, while Freida and Rosalyn both made busy
preparing vegetables for the evening meal.
Erik glanced at his mother, who stood expressionless at
the sink, listening to the men speak. Rosalyn inclined her
head toward Erik's mother, indicating concern. Erik
nodded briefly, then moved beside his mother, indicating
he wished to wash up. She nodded curtly and moved
toward the oven, where the bread purchased that morning
from the baker was being kept warm.
Nathan continued what he had been saying when Erik
entered. 'While I have the knack with iron, I'm indifferent
with horses, truth to tell, above the legs. I can adjust a
shoe to balance a lameness, or to compensate for some
other problem, but when it comes to the rest, I'm as
simple as anyone.'
'Then you've chosen wisely to keep Erik on,' said Milo,
showing an almost fatherly pride. 'He's a wonder with
horses.'
Rosalyn asked, 'Master Smith, from what you've said,
you could have had any number of large baronial forges,
or even a ducal charge. Why did you pick our small
town?'
Nathan pushed away the bowl of stew he had finished,
and smiled. 'I'm a lover of wine, truth to tell, and this is a
great change from my former home.'
Freida turned and blurted, 'We're scant weeks past
burying one smith for the love of too much wine, and
now we've another. The gods must hate Ravensburg
indeed!'
Nathan looked at Freida and spoke. His tone was
measured, but it was clear he was not far from anger.
'Good woman, I love the wine, but I'm no mean
drunkard. I was a father and husband who took care of
his own for many years. If I drink more than a glass in a
day, it's a festival. I'll thank you to pass no judgment on
matters you know nothing about. Smiths are no more cut
from the same bolt of cloth as all men of any other trade
are alike in all ways.'
Freida turned away, her color rising slightly, but she
said nothing save, 'The fire is too warm. This bread will
be dry before supper.' She made a show of turning the
coals, though everyone knew it was unnecessary.
Erik watched his mother for a moment, then turned
toward Nathan. 'The room is clean, sir.'
Freida snapped, 'Will you all be sharing that one tiny
room?'
Nathan rose, picking up his cloak and leaning over to
retrieve his bag. As he hoisted his possessions, he said,
,M?,

'These children and your wife you spoke so tenderly
of?'
Nathan's tone was calm when he replied, 'All dead.
Killed by raiders in the sacking of the Far Coast. I was
senior journeyman to Baron Tolburt's Master Smith at
Tulan.' The room was still as he continued. 'I was asleep,
but the sound of fighting woke me. I told my Martha to
see to the children as I ran to the forge. I took no more
than two steps out the door of the servants' quarters
when I was struck twice by arrows' - he touched his
shoulder, then his left thigh - 'here and here. I fainted.
Another man fell on top of me, I think. Anyway, my wife
and children were already dead when I awoke the next
day.' He glanced around the room. 'We had four children,
three boys and a girl.' He sighed. 'Little Sarah was
special.' He fell silent for a long moment, and his face
took on a reflective expression. Then he said, 'Damn me.
It's nearly twenty-five years now.' Without another
word he rose, and nodded his head once to Milo, then
moved to the door.
Freida looked as if she had been struck. She turned
toward Nathan, her eyes brimming with moisture, and
looked as if she were about to speak, but as the smith left
the kitchen she was unable to find the words.
Erik looked after the departing smith, and then back
toward his mother. For the first time in his life he felt
embarrassed for her and he found the feeling unpleasant.

He glanced around the kitchen and noticed Rosalyn
looking at Freida with an expression of irritation and
regret. Milo made a show of ignoring everyone as he rose
from the table to move to the tap room.
Erik said at last, 'I'd better see if he's settled in. Then I'll
be seeing to the horses.'
Erik left and Rosalyn moved around the kitchen in
silence, trying to spare Freida any more embarrassment.
After a moment she realized the older woman was silently
weeping. Caught in an impasse as to what to do,
she hesitated, then at last said, 'Freida?'
The older woman turned toward the younger, her
cheeks damp from her tears. Her face was a mask of
conflict, as if she wished to vent some deeply buried pain
but couldn't let it surface past a sharp retort. Rosalyn
said, 'Can I do anything?'
Freida remained motionless for long seconds, then
said, 'The berries need washing.' Her tone was hoarse,
and she spoke softly. Rosalyn moved toward the sink and
began working the hand pump her father and Erik had
installed only the year before so she and Freida wouldn't
have to carry water from the well behind the inn anymore.
As cold water filled the wooden sink, Freida said,
'And stay the sweet child you are, Rosalyn. There's too
much pain in the world already.'
The older woman hurried from the kitchen on some
imagined errand, and Rosalyn knew she just wished to be
alone for a while. The exchange with the new smith had
released something Freida had buried and Rosalyn didn't
understand, but in her sixteen years the girl had never
seen Erik's mother cry. As she cleaned the fruit for the
evening's pies, she wondered if this was a good thing or

not.

The evening was quiet, with only a few locals calling in
at the Pintail for a quick drink, and only one seeking a
meal. Erik finished cleaning the kettle as a favor to
Rosalyn, and hauled it back to the hook over the fire,
now low-glowing embers.
He waved good night to Rosalyn, who was carrying
four flagons of ale to a table occupied by four of the
town's more eligible young journeymen, all of whom
were flirting with the innkeeper's daughter, more to
keep some sort of status with one another than out of
any real interest in the young girl.
Passing through the kitchen, Erik found his mother
standing by the door, looking at the night sky, ablaze
with stars. All three moons were down this night, a rare
occurrence, and the display was always worth a moment
to observe.
'Mother,' said Erik quietly as he started to move
away.
'Stay awhile,' she said softly, a request and not an
order. 'It was a night like this I met your father.'
Erik had heard the story before but knew his mother
was struggling with something that had occurred while
she spoke to the smith. He still didn't fully understand
what had happened in his mother, but he knew she
needed to speak. He sat down on the steps beside where
his mother stood.
'Otto had come to Ravensburg for the first time as
Baron, after his father's death two years before. He had
attended the Vintners' and Growers' reception for him,
and after drinking with the town leaders, he had gone
for a walk to clear his head. He was brash and quick to

dispense with protocol, and had ordered his servants and
guards to leave him alone.'
She stared into the night, calling up memories. 'I had
come down to the fountain with the other girls, to flirt
with the boys.' Erik recalled his own last visit to the

fountain with Roo and realized the practice was long
established. 'The Baron came into the lantern light and
suddenly we were a bunch of awkward children.' Then
Erik saw a spark in his mother's eyes, and heard an echo
of the spirit that had captivated men's hearts before he
was born. 'I was as awed as the rest, but I was too proud
to show it,' she said with a rueful smile, and years
dropped away from her. Erik could imagine the impact
such a sight after an evening spent drinking must have
had on the Baron as he spied the beautiful Freida at the
fountain.
'He had court manners, and rank, and riches, and yet
there was something honest in him, Erik: a little boy who
was as afraid of being sent away as any other boy. He was
twenty-five, and young for that age. But he swept me off
my feet, with sweet words and a wicked humor in them.
Less than-an hour later he had bedded me under a tree in
an apple orchard.' She sighed, and again Erik was put in
mind of a young girl, not this woman of iron he had
known all his life.
'I had a terrible reputation, but I had never known
another man. He had known other women, for he was
sure, but he was also tender and gentle and loving.' She
glanced at her son. 'In the dark, under the stars, he spoke
of love, but the next day I thought I'd never see him
again and counted myself just another foolish girl taken
in by a nobleman's charms.
'But against any hope of mine, he came to me a month
later, in the late afternoon, alone, astride a horse flecked
with foam from a hard ride from his castle. Hidden by a
large cloak, he had slipped into the inn as we were
readying for the night's trade, and there he sought me
out and revealed himself. To my astonishment, he professed
love and asked for my hand.' She gave a bittersweet
laugh. 'I called him mad and ran from the inn.
'Later that night, I returned to find him waiting at this
very spot, like a common farmhand. He again told of his
love for me, and again I told him he was bereft of sense.'
Tears gathered in her eyes. 'He laughed and said he knew
it seemed that way, but after taking my hand and gazing
into my eyes, he kissed me once and convinced me. This
time I knew why I had gone with him first time - not
because of his rank and station, but because I loved him
as well.
'He cautioned me that none must know of our love for
each other until he had journeyed to Rillanon to petition
King Lyam for my hand, for tradition bound him to his
liege lord's pleasure. But to seal our love, and to provide
me with a claim, we spoke our vows in a small chapel
used during the harvest, with an itinerant monk who had
been in town less than a day, conducting the ceremony.
The monk made a pledge not to speak of the vows until
otto gave him leave, and left us,alone, for the next
morning Otto planned to leave to see the King.'
Freida was silent a moment; then her tone took on a
familiar bitterness. 'Otto never returned. He sent a
messenger, your friend Owen Greylock, with news that
the King had denied his petition and had instructed hhnhim
to wed the daughter of the Duke of Ran. 'For the good of
the Kingdom," Greylock said. Then he said the King had
ordered the Great Temple of Dala in Rillanon to declare
the wedding annulled, and had the order placed under
Royal Seal, so as not to embarrass Mathilda or any sons
she might bear. I was advised to find a good man and
forget Otto.' Tears ran down her cheeks as she said,
'What a shock good Master Greylock got then when I
told him I was with child.'
She sighed and reached over and gripped her son's
arm. 'As my time neared, rumors circulated about who
was your father, this merchant or that grower. But
when you were born, and quickly became the image of
your father in his youth, no one denied you were
Otto's boy. Not even your father will deny it publicly.'
Erik had heard the story a dozen times before, but
never told quite this way. Never before had he thought
of his mother as a young girl in love or of the bitter
rejection she must have felt when news of otto's

marriage to Mathilda had come. Still, there was no
profit in living for yesterday. 'But he never acknowledged
me, either,' said Erik.
True,' agreed his mother. 'Yet he left you this much:
you have a name, von Darkmoor. You may use it with
pride, and should any man challenge your right you
may look him in the eye and say, 'Not even Otto,
Baron von Darkmoor, denies me my right to this
name..,
Erik reached up and awkwardly took his mother's
hand. She glanced at him and smiled her stiff, unforgiving
smile, but there was a hint of warmth in it as she
squeezed his huge hand, then released it. 'This Nathan: I
think he may be a good man. Learn what you can from
him, for you'll never have your birth-right.'
Erik said, 'That was your dream, Mother. I know little
of politics, but what I have heard in the taproom leads me
to believe that should you have had the High Priest of
Dala himself as witness in the chapel that night, it would
count for little. The King, for reasons known best to him,
wished my father married to the daughter of the Duke of
Ran, and thus it was, and thus it would always have
been.'
Erik stood. 'I will need to spend some extra time with
Nathan, letting him know what I can do, and finding out
what he wishes me to do. I think you're right: he's a good
man. He could have sent me packing, but he's trying to
do right by me, I think.'
Impulsively, Freida threw her arms around her son's
neck, hugging him closely. 'I love you, my son,' she
whispered.
Erik stood motionless, uncertain how to respond. She
spared him the need by letting go and turning quickly
into the kitchen, shutting the door behind her.
Erik stood a moment, then slowly turned and moved
toward the barn.

As the months passed, things fell into a routine at the Inn
of the Pintail. Nathan blended in quickly, and after a
while it was hard to recall what the inn had been like
With Tyndal as smith. Erik found his new master a fount
of information, as much of what Tyndal had taught him
had been basic, solid smithing but Nathan knew much
that made the work above-average, even exceptional. His
knowledge of the different requirements for weapons
and armor opened a new area for Erik, for Nathan had
been the Baron Tolburt's own armorer in Tulan at one
time.
One day the sound of hooves upon cobbles caused Erik
to look up from where he held a hot plow blade Nathan
was hammering for a local farmer. The slender figure of
Owen Greylock, the Baron's Swordmaster, appeared as
he rode his mount around the barn from the rear court of
the inn.
Nathan took away the blade and plunged it into water,
then set it aside as Erik came to stand next to the horse,
holding her bridle as Greylock dismounted.
'Swordmaster!' said Erik. 'She's not lame again, is
she?'
'No,' said Owen, indicating that Erik should see for
himself.
Erik ran his hand along the horse's left foreleg as
Nathan approached, then motioned the youngster to
stand aside. Nathan examined the horse's leg. 'This is the
horse you told me of'
Erik nodded.
'You say it was this suspensor tendon, was it?'
Greylock looked on with approval as Erik said, 'Yes,
Master Smith. She had pulled it slightly.'
'Slightly!' said Greylock. He had an angular face, made

even more stern by a severe hairstyle - high bangs, with
most of the rest cut straight around the nape of his neck which
split into a smile, serving to make him even more
unattractive, for his teeth were uneven and yellowing.
'Totally blown, I should say, Master Smith. Puffed up to
the size of my thigh, and the mare could barely stand to
put weight on it. I thought I'd have to send for the
knackers, for certain. But Erik had a way, and I'd seen his
work before, so I gave him the chance and he didn't
disappoint.' Shaking his head in mock astonishment, he
said, "Slightly." The lad's too modest for his own good.'
'What did you do?' Nathan asked Erik.
'I wrapped her leg in hot compresses at first. There's a
drawing salve the healing priest at the Temple of Killian
makes that makes your skin feel hot. I used that on her
leg. I hand-walked her and wouldn't let her pull again,
even if she got rammy. She's spirited and wanted to bolt
more than once, but I put a stud chain over her nose and
let her know I'd have none of it.' Erik reached over and
patted the mare on the nose. 'We became pretty fair
friends.'
Nathan stood and shook his head, obviously impressed. '
For the four months I've been here, Swordmaster,
I've been hearing of this lad's skill with horses.
Some of it I took to be local pride felt by his friends.'
Turning to Erik, he smiled and put a hand on his
shoulder. 'I don't say this lightly, lad. Perhaps you should
Put aside your apprenticeship as a smith and turn your
hand to healing horses. I am self-admitted indifferent in
healing animals, though I will put my shoeing work up
against any man's, but even I can see this horse is completely
sound, as if she had never been injured.'
Erik said, 'It's a useful skill, and I like to see the horses
healthy, but there's no guild . . .'
Nathan was forced to agree. 'True enough. A guild is a
mighty fortress and can shelter you when no amount of
skill can save you from' - he suddenly remembered the
Baron's Swordmaster was standing a few feet away '
many unexpected ends.'
Erik smiled. He knew what the smith had been about
to say had to do with the long-standing rivalry between
the nobility and the guilds. Started as a means to certify
workmen and guarantee a certain minhnum standard of
skill, the guilds had become a political force in the Kingdom
over the last century, to the point of having their
own courts to adjudicate matters within each guild,
much to the irritation of the King's courts and the courts
of the other nobles. But the nobles were too dependent
upon the quality assurance of the many guilds to do more
than grumble about flouting authority. But often one of
the craft guilds had saved a member from some injustice
at the hands of a noble. Despite a long tradition of responsible
nobility in the Kingdom, there were always one
or two minor earls or barons who thought they could
simply ignore a debt. Having a patent of arms from the
King did not ensure wealth, and more than one noble
had attempted to use rank and position rather than coin
of the realm to settle his debts.
Erik distracted Greylock. 'Swordmaster, what cause
brings you to Ravensburg this day?'
The usually serious Swordmaster's face returned to its
usual dour expression. 'You, Erik. Your father rides to
Krondor on state business. He'll be here this evening. I
came early to see if ...
'If I could prevail upon my mother to let him alone?'
Greylock nodded. 'He's not well, Erik. He shouldn't be
making the journey and ... 
'I'll do what I can.' He knew promising was vain
should his mother take it into her head to repeat her
performance of the last time Otto came through the
town. 'She may have finally gotten over making me the
next Baron.'
Greylock made a sour face. 'I would be out of place to
comment on that.' Then he softened his expression.

'Trust me on this. If you can, stand by the corner of the
town road where the sheep meadow ends and the first
vineyard begins, on the east side of the town, before
sunset.'
'Why?'
'I can't say, but it's important.'
'If my father is so ill, Owen, what cause has he to ride
to Krondor?'
Greylock mounted his horse. 'Ill news, I'm afraid. The
Prince is dead. It will be announced to the populace by
royal messenger later this week.'
Erik said, 'Arutha is dead?'
Greylock nodded. 'He fell and broke his hip, I've been
told, and died of complications. He was an aging man,
nearly eighty if I have it right.'
- Prince Arutha had been a fixture in Krondor all of
Erik's life and his mother's before him. Father to the
King, Borric, who had succeeded Arutha's brother Lyam
only five years earlier, he had been the man most responsible
for peace in the Kingdom, by all accounts.
To Erik he was a distant figure; certainly, Erik had
never seen the Prince, but he felt a small stab of regret.
By anyone's measure he was a good ruler and a hero in
his youth. As Greylock turned the mare around, Erik
said, 'Tell my father I will stand where he asked.'
Greylock saluted and lightly touched spurs to the
mare's flanks, and she trotted out of the inn courtyard.
Nathan, who had come to understand a great deal of
Erik's history in the months he had been living at the
Pintail, said, 'You'll want some extra time to clean up.'
Erik said, 'I hadn't thought of that. I was just going to
leave at suppertime.'
It was late spring, and sunset came close to an hour
after supper. Erik would need most of the hour to make it
to the other side of Ravensburg, and through the
vineyards to the sheep meadow, but only if he went in
his dirty clothing.
Nathan playfully hit Erik on the back of the head with
his open hand. 'Dolt. Get yourself cleaned up. Sounds
important.'
Erik thanked Nathan and hurried to the forge. Below
the pallet in the loft where he slept, behind the ladder, sat
a trunk with all of Erik's belongings. He took out his one
good shirt and carried it over to the washbasin. Removing
his dirty shirt, he took the harsh soap and some clean
rags and worked feverishly to rid himself of as much dirt
as possible. At last he felt presentable and put on his good
shirt.
He hurried out of the barn and went to the kitchen,
where food was being placed upon the table as he entered.
Sitting down, he drew a suspicious look from his
mother. 'Why are you wearing your good shirt?' she
asked.
Not willing to share his father's request for a meeting
with his mother, lest she demand to accompany him and
force a confrontation, he muttered, 'I'm meeting someone
after supper,' then started noisily eating the stew
placed before him.
Milo, who was sitting at the head of the table, laughed
'One of the town girls, is it?'
This brought an alarmed look from Rosalyn, the color
rising in her cheeks as Erik said, 'Something like that.'
Erik continued to eat in silence, while Milo and Nathan
spoke of the day's events, and the women joined Erik in
silence.
Nathan had a dry sense of humor that made it difficult
at first to know if he. was being mocking or merely
amusing. This had resulted in Freida and Milo both treating 
him with some coolness at first.
But his warm nature and clear appreciation of life's
little moments had won over even Erik's mother, who
could often be seen trying to fight back a smile at some
quip of Nathan's. Erik had once asked him how he kept
so even a disposition, and the answer had surprised him.
'When you lose everything,' Nathan had said, 'you've
nothing left to lose. You've got two choices then: either
kill yourself or start building a new life. When I started
this new life, without my family, I decided the only
sensible thing in it was to live for the small rewards: a job
well done, a beautiful sunrise, the sound of children
laughing at play, a good cup of Wine. Makes it easy to
deal with the harsher side of life.
'Kings and marshals can look back and relive their
triumphs, their great victories. We common folk must
take what pleasure we can from life's little victories.'
Erik hardly touched his food, and at last bade everyone
excuse him as he almost jumped up from the table and
hurried out through the common room, Milo's laughter
following after. He almost ran through the door of the
inn and barely avoided knocking Roo down as the
youngster was about to enter the inn.
'Wait a minute!' cried Roo as he fell in beside his larger
friend.
'Can't. I have to meet someone.'
Roo grabbed the larger youth by the arm and was
almost dragged along a step or two before Erik stopped.
'What?' he asked Roo impatiently.
'Did your father send for you?'
Erik had long since stopped being amazed at the town
gossip Roo was able to ferret out, but this had him
stunned. 'Why do you ask that?'
'Because since late yesterday the road has been thick
with Kingdom Post riders, sometimes as many as three
in a bunch, and a company of the Baron's horse,
followed by two companies of foot soldiers, passed by
the eastern boundary of the town this morning, heading
south, and the Baron's own personal guards showed up
an hour ago at the Growers' and Vintners' Hall. That's
what I was coming to tell you. And you're wearing your
best shirt.'
Not wishing to have Roo along, Erik said, 'The Prince
of Krondor is dead. That's why. . .' He was about to say
that was why his father was coming to the town, on his
way to Krondor, but instead said, 'all the fuss.'
Roo said, 'So those soldiers are heading south to support
the garrisons along the Keshian border, in case the
Emperor gets ambitious now that Arutha's dead.' Now
suddenly an expert in military matters, Roo was left
standing by Erik, who had resumed his hurried march.
Seeing he was suddenly alone, Roo yelled, 'Hey,' and
chased after his friend, catching up with him as Erik left
the street of the Pintail and entered the main square of
the town.
'Where are you going?'
Erik stopped. 'I have to meet someone.'
'Who?'
'It's personal.'
'It's not a girl, or you'd be heading north to the fountain,
not east toward the baronial road.' Roo's eyes
widened. 'You are meeting your father! I was just joking
before.'
Erik said, 'I don't want anyone to say anything, especially
not to my mother.'
'I'll keep this to myself.'
'Good,' said Erik, turning Roo around with two large
and powerful hands on narrow shoulders. 'Go find something
amusing to do, and not too illegal, and I'll talk to
you later tonight. Meet me at the inn.'
Roo frowned, but sauntered off as if he had intended to
leave Erik alone anyway. Erik resumed his journey.
He hurried through the businesses clustered around
the town square, two- and three-story edifices overhanging 
the narrow streets, then moved between the modest
homes owned by the higher-ranking members of the
various crafts and guilds, then the ramshackle houses
used by workers, married apprentices, and traders without
storefronts.
Leaving the town proper, he hurried along the east
road, - past small vegetable gardens where pushcart
traders grew their wares to sell in the town market, and
the large eastern vineyards. Reaching the point where
the baronial road leading to Darkmoor intercepted the
main east-west road through Ravensburg, he waited.
He mulled over what possible reason he could have
been asked to meet his father at this relatively remote
location, dismissing the most fanciful of all, that his
mother's dream would somehow be realized and his
father would acknowledge him.
His musing was interrupted by the sound of an approaching
company of horsemen. Soon he could see
them crest a distant hill, a company of riders appearing
out of the evening's gloom to the northeast. As they
neared, he could see they were the Baron's own, leading
the same carriage Erik had seen the last time the Baron
had paid the town a visit. He felt a tightening in his chest
as they neared, and no small apprehension, for his two
half brothers could be seen riding beside the carriage.
The first riders hurried past, but Stefan and Manfred
reined in.
Stefan shouted, 'What, You again?'
He made a threatening gesture as if to draw his sword,
but his younger brother shouted, 'Stefan! Keep up! Leave
him alone!'
The younger brother set heels to his mount and moved
to keep up with the vanguard, but his older brother
hesitated.
As more soldiers rode past, Stefan shouted, 'I warn you
now, brother: when I ascend to the Baron's office, I'll be
nowhere near as tolerant as our father. if I catch a
glimpse of you or your mother at any public function, I'll
have you arrested so quickly your shadow will have to
search to find you.' Without waiting for a reply, he
viciously dug his spurs into his horse's flank, causing the
high-spirited gelding to leap forward into a fast canter,
then a gallop, so he could overtake his younger brother.
Then the main detachment of soldiers approached,
followed by the Baron's carriage. As they passed, the
riders moved at a steady canter, but the carriage slowed.
When it was almost upon Erik, the curtain of the carriage
closest to him was pulled back, and he could glimpse a
white face peering through the gloom at him. For a
moment, father and son locked gazes, and Erik felt a
sudden rush of confused feelings. Then all too suddenly
the instant passed, and the carriage rolled away, the
driver using the reins to urge his team of four ahead, to
overtake the escort.
Erik stood puzzled and angered as the following troop
of soldiers approached. He had expected to speak at last
to his father, not merely share a momentary glimpse.
As he turned to leave, the last rider reined in and said,
'Erik!'
He turned to see Owen Greylock dismounting. Forgetting
courtesy, Erik vented his anger. 'I thought we were
friends, Master Greylock, at least as much as rank
permitted. But you had me traipse through the town to
this place so that Stefan could insult and threaten me,
and my father peek out from his warm carriage at me!'
Greylock said, 'Erik, it was your father's request.'
Erik put hands on hips and took a deep breath. 'So it
was his idea to have Stefan as much as tell me to leave
the barony?'
Greylock led his treasured mare to where Erik stood,
and put his hand on the younger man's arm. 'No, that
was Stefan's impromptu performance. Your father
wished to see you one last time. He's dying.'
Erik felt unexpected emotions break to the surface,

panic and regret, all viewed somehow at a distance, as if
the warring emotions were taking place within someone
else's breast. 'Dying?'
'His chirurgeon warned against this, but with the
Prince's death, he felt the need to attempt the journey.
Borric has named his youngest brother, Nicholas, to
succeed his father, until his own son, Patrick, is of an age
to rule the Western Realm. Nicholas is an unknown;
everyone expected Erland to take the post. It could be a
fair political bloodbath in Krondor this week.'
Erik knew the names: Borric, the King, and Erland, his
younger twin brother. Patrick was the King's eldest son,
and by tradition one of the two should have taken the
office of Prince of Krondor, but the intrigues of the court
meant little to Erik.
'He asked me here so he could catch a glimpse of me as
his carriage sped by?'
Greylock squeezed Erik's arm for emphasis. 'His last
glimpse of you.' He removed something from his tunic.
'And to give you this.'
Erik beheld a folded parchment being handed him by
Greylock. He took it and noticed it was free of any stamp
or seal. He unfolded it and began to read. '"My son -"'
Greylock interrupted. 'No one is to know the contents
but you, and once you are done, I am to burn this. I will
stand away while you read this to yourself.'
He led the horse away, while Erik read:

My son, If I am not yet dead when you read this, I soon
shall be. I know you have many questions, and no doubt
your mother has answered some. I am sorry to say that I
can give you little more than that, and less satisfaction.
When we are young, we feel passions that are but faint
memories when we are not very many years older. I think
I did love your mother, when I was very young. But if so,
then that love, like memories, faded.
if I have any regrets, it is that I could not know you.
You were innocent of your mother's and my indulgences,
but I have responsibilities that cannot be set aside because
of my regret over a youthful indiscretion. I hope you
understand and realize that whatever life we might have
imagined as father and son was an impossible illusion. I
hope you are a good man, for I am proud of the blood that
flow in both our veins, and would hope you honor it as
well. I have never publicly denied your mother, because at
least I can allow you a name. But beyond this I can do
little else.
Your brother Stefan will be set against you in every
way. My wife fears any threat to her son's patrimony, and
if it is any comfort to you, I have paid a price for remaining
silent before your mother's accusations. I have shielded
you and your mother more than you might know, but
once I am gone, that protection will vanish. I urge you to
take your mother from the barony. There is a growing
frontier along the Far Coast and in the Sunset Islands,
and opportunities for a young man of ability. You could
make something of yourself there.
Leave Ravensburg and Darkmoor, and make yourself
known to one Sebastian Lender, a solicitor and litigator
with an office at Barret's Coffee House, on Regal Street in
Krondor. He will have something there for you.
I can do no more. Life is often unfair, and while we
might wish for justice, it 'S usually an illusion. For what
it is worth, you have my blessing and my wish for a
happy life.
Your Father

Erik held it in his hands a few moments after he had
finished, and at last he held it out to Greylock. Owen
took the parchment and produced one of the elegant
flint and spring-loaded igniters that were all the rage
among those who smoked tabac. He struck a series of
sparks until one lodged in the parchment, and blew it to
a flame. Holding the parchment by the edge, he let the
flame grow until it engulfed the document. Just before
his fingers would be burned, he let the parchment float
away, rising on its own heat as it was consumed.
Erik felt empty. He now realized that whatever he
had expected when summoned to this lonely spot, it
had been something more than this. His attention returned
to Greylock as the Baron's Swordmaster mounted.
'Was there anything else?'
Owen said, 'Only this: he urged you to count the
threat as dire and take the warning with the most
gravity.'
'Do you know what that means?'
'Not by his words, Erik, but I'd be a fool not to guess.
It might be considered a wise thing if you were on your
way to a new home when we return from Krondor.
Stefan has a temper that blinds him and a dangerous
nature.'
'Owen?' Erik said as Greylock made ready to ride on.
,what?'
'Do you think he ever really loved my mother?'
Greylock looked startled by the question. He paused,
then said, 'To that I cannot speak. Your father was a
man to hide much within. But this I can tell you: whatever
you read in that missive take to heart and count an
honest telling, for there is no deceit in the man's nature.'
He rode off, and Erik found himself alone. Then he
began to laugh. Everything in his life had stemmed from
a deceit. Either Greylock was a poor judge of his lord's
nature, or Otto had reformed his ways after deceiving
Erik's mother. But to Erik it was of little significance
which was the case.
Unsure of his own feelings, he began the trek home.
But one thing he knew: Greylock would not take the
time to underscore his father's warning if it wasn't real
and deadly. For the first time in his life, Erik considered
leaving Ravensburg. He laughed again at the irony of no
more than a month's having passed since word returned
from the guild that it had approved Nathan's registration
of Erik as apprentice.
A bitter taste of tin filled Erik's mouth, and his stomach
knotted. as he moved through the twilight. His desires
were few and his needs simple, yet it seemed fate had
decreed them to be impossible.
Not knowing what he could possibly say to his mother,
he walked like a man three times his age, each step slow
and deliberate, his shoulders bent under an incredible
weight.

THREE

Murder

Erik halted.
The sound of so many horses' hooves pounding on the
cobbles nearby was unusual in Ravensburg. He put down
the bundle of clothing he had tied a moment before, and
set it upon the trunk containing his mother's personal
belongings.
The sound was definitely louder now, and Erik knew a
group of riders was heading for the inn. He glanced at
Milo, who was speaking softly to Freida on the other side
of the kitchen. The decision to leave Ravensburg had
been difficult, and to Erik's surprise it had not been his
mother who objected. She seemed resigned to never
realizing her girlhood dream of her son's being legitimized
by his father. it was Nathan who had been the
most vociferous in urging them to stay. When it was clear
they were leaving, he bade them travel to the Far Coast.
He spoke in almost reverent terms of the nobles of the

Far Coast, Duke Marcus, cousin to the King, and his own
Baron of Tulan, who had done everything in his power to
aid those who had suffered in the massive destruction of
the Far Coast at the hands of pirates a quarter century
earlier. Stefan's threats were repulsive to Nathan, whose
view of the responsibilities of the nobility to the commons
was at odds with the experience of most of those at
the inn. All Milo would say was that nobility in the West
was vastly different to that in Darkmoor.
Erik and Freida had been gathering up their belongings,
making ready for the morning coach that
would take them west to Krondor. Erik was to call at the
Hall of the Guild of Smiths with a letter from Nathan,
explaining that his leaving the forge at Ravensburg had
nothing whatsoever to do with his skills. It explained
more of the situation than Erik was comfortable with
having known by strangers, but Nathan had assured hhnhim
the guild was like a family. The letter urged the guild to
find Erik a position somewhere on the Far Coast or in the
Sunset Islands.
The sound of horses entering the courtyard of the inn
caused Freida to cast a worried look Erik's way. It was
only two days since Greylock had burned Otto's message,
but still she was worried that Stefan might act prematurely
to harm her son.
Erik opened the door to the rear courtyard and found
twenty men in the baronial livery dismounting, Owen
Greylock at their head. 'Master Greylock, what is it?'
Erik half expected to hear owen say they had come to
arrest him, but instead the Baron's Swordmaster took
Erik by the arm and steered him away from the soldiers.
'Your father. He suffered another seizure. We turned
around yesterday afternoon, and now we must stop. his
chirurgeon says he will not live to reach Darkmoor. He's
being taken to the Peacock's Tail' - the most lavish inn in
Ravensburg -'and the rest of the men will be quartered
in the other inns around the town. Another company
rides all night to Darkmoor to fetch the Baroness. Your
father will not live more than a few days.'
Erik felt surprisingly devoid of any feeling at the news
of his father's impending death. The message from him
had made whatever childish fantasies about the man
evaporate, to be replaced by a distant image of a man
unable to do the right thing by a common woman and his
own child. The closest feeling Erik could muster was pity.
At last he spoke. 'I don't know what to say, Owen.'
'Have you given thought to our last conversation?'
'Mother and I are leaving tomorrow morning.'
'Good. Keep out of the town square tonight, and see
you are on the coach when it leaves. Stefan and
Manfred are understandably distressed, and there's no
telling what that hothead Stefan's capable of doing. As
long as the Baron's alive, he'll probably remain close at
hand, so if he doesn't catch sight of you, all should be
well.' Glancing at the soldiers, he said, 'I will stay here,

with this guard, until I'm summoned to the Baron's
side.'
Erik knew that Greylock had intentionally chosen to
bring his own contingency of guards to the inn of the
Pintail, against the possibility of trouble, and he said,
'Thank you, Owen.'
'Just doing as my lord would want, Erik. Now go
inside and tell "milo I need all his rooms.'
Erik did as he was asked, and soon the inn was busy,
with Rosalyn, Freida, and Milo all hurrying to get every
room ready for guests. Each soldier saw to his own
mount, but Erik and Nathan had plenty to do fetching
fodder into the barn and the large corral on the north
side of the barn where twelve of the twenty mounts
were herded.
Erik finished bringing in the last bale of hay for the
horses, and washed up in the forge. Nathan came to
stand behind him and said, 'I am sorry to hear about
your father, Erik.'
Erik shrugged. 'I don't have much feeling about this,
Nathan. Milo's been the only father I've ever known,
though he acts more like an uncle. You've treated me
more like a son in the last five months than Otto did my
entire life. I don't know what I should be feeling.'
Nathan put his hand on Erik's shoulder and gave it a
firm squeeze. 'There is no "should" to it, lad. You feel
what you feel, and there's no right or wrong. Otto was
your father, but you never knew him.'
His voice was quiet and calm as he went on, 'It's
changing diapers when the wife's too busy with another
child's illness, or listening to the child prattle after a long
tiring day because it's your child's prattle, that makes a
father, not getting a girl pregnant. Any fool can do that.
It's holding a child who's frightened at night, or tossing
one in the air to make her giggle. You've had none of that
from Otto. I can understand how you could feel little at
his passing.'
Erik turned to regard the burly smith. 'I shall miss you,
Nathan. I mean what I said. You helped me understand
what a father should be like.'
He embraced the older man, and they hugged for a
long moment. Nathan said, 'And you've given me a
chance to imagine what it would have been like had my
sons lived, Erik. I'll treasure that.' Then, with a harsh
barking laugh: 'And you've made it hell to be my next
apprentice, lad. You're a talent and you've got years of
experience under your belt. I may be short-tempered
with some tangle-footed boy of fourteen who has never
stepped inside a forge before.'
Erik shook his head. 'I somehow doubt that, Nathan.
You'll be fair with him.'
'Well, let's not dwell on partings. Let's go inside and
grab some food before those soldiers eat everything in
sight.,
Erik laughed at that and realized he was hungry,
despite the prospect of leaving the place of his birth and
never returning, and the specter of his father's death at
any hour.
They entered the kitchen to find Freida busy preparing
food, as if it were just another night at the inn, and
Rosalyn hurrying between the kitchen and the common
room, while Milo fetched ale and wine from the
taproom.
Erik and Nathan washed up and entered the commons.
Instead of the usual loud talk, the soldiers were quietly
eating and drinking, keeping their voices low. Owen sat
alone at a corner table and motioned Erik and Nathan to
join him.
They did, and Milo brought over three large glass
goblets of wine. When he had left, Owen said, 'Where are

you bound for tomorrow, Erik?'
'Krondor,' he said. 'To the guild office for another
apprenticeship.'
'So it's west, then?'
'Yes. The Far Coast or the Sunset Islands.'
Nathan said, 'They've found gems and gold in the
mountains near Jonril, so the rush is on. The trading
houses from the Free Cities, as well as every adventurer,
thief, and swindler, have descended there. But it also
means a good opportunity, because the Duke of Crydee
has asked for additional smiths, as well as other
Craftmasters, to be sent there.'
Owen nodded. 'This place changes little, and most of us
are born into our lives with small chance of making them
different. Out there, with some ambition, some thought,
and a touch of luck, a common man can rise to riches or
even to the nobility.'
Erik said, 'Riches, with luck,'I guess. But a commoner
become a noble?'
Owen smiled his crooked smile. 'It's not common
knowledge, but the King's adviser, the Duke of Rillanon,
was common-born.'
'Truth?' said Nathan.
'He did some favor or another for the late Prince of
Krondor, and was given a squire's rank when he was but
a lad. His wit and service to the Kingdom earned him a
rapid rise, and now he is second only to royalty in
power.' He lowered his voice to a near whisper. 'There
are those who claim he was not only a common boy, but
a thief as well.'
Erik said, That is impossible.' 
Owen shrugged. 'Nothing is truly impossible, I think.'
Erik said, Well, maybe when he was a boy , but that
was fifty years ago.'
owen nodded. 'Things change. once, centuries ago,
this was the frontier, Erik.'
Erik's brow furrowed as if he didn't understand.
Nathan said, 'I grew up on the Far Coast, Erik. I think
what friend Greylock means is that you'll find a different
stripe out there, men who are concerned more with what
you know and can do than with who you are, or who

your father was. Too many things going on to worry
about rank; you've got to depend upon your neighbors.
Goblins, dark elves, bandits, and other problems constantly
coming at you - those make a man glad for help
close by. You don't have time to worry about a lot of the
things that make life here in the Kingdom the way it is.'
Greylock nodded. Erik said nothing for a moment,
thinking about the possibility things might turn out right
after all, when the front door of the inn opened, and Roo

hurried in.
He saw Erik from across the room and quickly came
through the crowded commons to where his friend sat.
Nodding with as much deference as he could muster to

the Baron's Swordmaster, he said, 'Master Greylock, they
need you over at the Peacock, sir.'
Owen threw a quick glance at Erik. His expression
betrayed his worry. It couldn't be good news. He stood,
said a quick good-bye, and left. Roo took his place.
Nathan said, 'You a squire these days, Roo?'
Roo made a face as if that remark put a bad taste in his
mouth. 'I was hanging around the fountain by the
Growers' and Vintners' Hall and a soldier came out and
told all of us to spread out and look for the Swordmaster
and fetch him to the Peacock's Tail. So I told the other
lads I'd come here.'

Erik smiled. 'I was hoping you'd come by tonight.'
'I would have been here sooner, but Gwen was at the
fountain and.. .'
Erik shook his head. 'So you're back in her favor once
again?'
'Trying to be,' said Roo.
Nathan said, 'How'd you like to apprentice at the forge,
Roo?'
it was a joke, and they all knew it, but Roo still said,
'What, me get all dirty and grimy? You get your hands
callused, and the horses step on your feet, Not on your
life. I have plans.'
Erik smiled, but Nathan said, 'Really? What sort of
plans?'
. Roo glanced around the room, as if fearing to be overheard. '
There are ways to make a living that have
nothing to do with guilds and apprenticeships, friend

smith.'
Nathan's brow furrowed. 'You're going to end up in
jail, Roo.'
Roo put up his hands as if protesting innocence. 'No,
nothing dodgy, I swear. it's just my father has been
hauling enough from Krondor up to here that I'm getting
pretty good at nosing out what the markets are for different
things. I've saved a little money, and I'm going to
invest it in a cargo one of these days.'
'A shipping concern,>'
Nathan appeared impressed.
'There are syndicates in Krondor and Salador that routinely
underwrite the cost of freight hauls from one city
to another, or cargoes for ships bound to distant ports.
They have subscribers and return nice profits on their
investments.'
Nathan nodded. 'True, but there's risk as well. if a
cargo isn't delivered on time, your profit can vanish.
Worse, if bandits take the caravan, or the ship sinks, you
lose everything.'
Roo looked as if this would never happen. 'I plan on
starting small and building up my capital for a few
years.'
'What do you plan on doing to eat and put a roof over
your head while you invest in these ventures?' asked
Nathan.
Roo said, 'Well, I haven't quite worked that out,
but
'How much capital have you, Roo?' interrupted
Nathan.
'On to thirty golden sovereigns,' he said proudly.
Nathan was impressed. 'Quite a beginning. I think I'll
forbear asking how you've managed to amass such a
young fortune, and' - he turned to Erik -'I suggest you
get back to the forge and keep out of sight. When the
coach comes in the morning is time enough for your
good-byes. If Master Greylock needs another word with
you, I'll send him to you.'
Erik nodded and rose. Roo followed him. The two
youngsters passed from the crowded common room to
the kitchen, where Rosalyn was hurrying to carry a
large platter of steaming greens out to the soldiers.
Freida worked feverishly over her stew as if it were just
another busy night at the inn and not her last in the
home of her birth.
Erik walked outside With Roo, and as he passed the
corral, the horses there wandered over to investigate the
two boys. Erik inspected their legs out of habit. 'Milo
will need to order up hay tomorrow,' he muttered to
Roo as he slowly walked along the fence. 'This lot will
have eaten the entire contents of the loft by the time
they've gone.'
Roo turned and faced Erik while they were walking.
He seemed to half skip, half dance to keep from tripping
while walking backwards. 'Erik, let me come with you.'
Erik said, 'Why would you want to come with me?'
'Look, you're the only real friend I've got here, and
I've got no trade. I wasn't joking about joining a syndicate.
I can get a job in Krondor and invest my money
until I'm rich. Once you get to Krondor, you'll see there
are better things to do than return to apprenticeship.'
Erik laughed, and stopped, so Roo wouldn't have to
continue his backward walk. 'What about your father?'
'He'd just as soon be rid of me as not,' Roo said with
bitterness. 'The bastard hasn't had a kind word for me
since Mum died.' Suddenly, as if by magic, a dagger

appeared in Roo's hand, then equally suddenly he returned
it to inside his loose shirt. 'I can take care of
myself if I need to. Now, let me come along.'
Erik said, 'I'll talk to Mother. She's not likely to offer
any encouragement.'
'You'll talk her into it.'
'Well, assume I do, you need to get your things
together and have some copper to pay the coach.'
'Everything I have is in a bundle at my father's. I'll run
and get it.'
Erik shook his head and watched Roo run off into the
night. He glanced around, suddenly feeling melancholy.
This would be his last night under the barn roof. It was a
poor lodging by any measure; occasionally leaky, drafty,
and offering too little protection from winter's cold and
summer's heat, but it was home. And he'd miss Milo and
Rosalyn.
As he returned to his place in the loft, Erik thought of
Rosalyn, pretty, but not teasing as Gwen and some of the
other girls were. His feelings for her were often tempered
by his sense of family. She was the sister of his heart, if
not by blood, and while he was as interested in girls as
any boy his age, something about Rosalyn made him
uneasy. In many ways he'd miss her most of all.
Tired from the long day's work and from worry, Erik
quickly dozed off, only to be startled awake by a sudden
feeling of panic. He sat up and looked around the dark
barn loft. Unseen enemies were hovering nearby. The
sound of men talking carried from the inn, and the
horses in the corral and barn snorted. Erik rolled over on
his side, head on his arm, thinking about the strange
feeling of danger that had suddenly come upon him.
He closed his eyes and again saw Rosalyn's face. He
would miss her, and Milo, and Nathan. Soon he was
dozing again. Before he lapsed into a deep sleep, he
dreamed he heard Rosalyn gently calling his name.

Erik!'
Erik came awake with a start as a hand shook his
shoulder. He had been hard asleep, in a deep numbing
slumber of emotional exhaustion, and he couldn't quite
get his bearings.
'Erik!' Roo's voice cut through the gloom, and Erik
looked up into his friend's face. Roo was dressed as he
had been earlier, but he wore a travel bundle tied around
one shoulder, slung over his back.
'What is it?'
'You'd better come quick. Down by the fountain.
Rosalyn.'
Erik half leaped down the ladder, Roo scampering
down after him as fast as he could. Erik sprinted past the
corral of horses and, as he approached the inn, could
hear the voices from within. 'What time is it?'
'Nine of the clock was the last call. Half past that, I
think.'
Erik knew that with this many soldiers in town, some
of the town girls would be down at the fountain. But
Rosalyn was certainly not likely to be one of them.
'What happened?'
'I don't know,' answered Roo. 'Gwen can tell you.'
Erik ran through the streets until he came to the
fountain, where a group of three young off-duty soldiers
were attempting to impress the local girls with tales of
their heroics. But the expression on Gwen's face as he
saw it in the lantern light showed that all thoughts of
harmless flirtation were gone. She looked very worried.
'What is it?' demanded Erik.
'Rosalyn came here, looking for you.'
'I was in the loft,' said Erik.
Gwen said, 'She said she called for you there, but you
didn't answer.'
Erik cursed his sound sleep and said, 'Where is she

now?'
Roo said, 'They say she went off with Stefan.'
'What?' Erik turned at his half brother's name and
gripped Gwen by the arm. 'Tell me what happened.'
Gwen motioned for Erik to follow her, out of hearing
of the soldiers. 'She was going back to the inn when the
Baron's sons came. Stefan started saying sweet things to
her, but there was something about his manner she
didn't like. She tried to leave, but didn't know how to say
no to someone of his rank, and when he took her by the
arm, she went along. But he didn't lead her back to the
inn; they went off toward the old orchard.' She pointed
off in the general direction. 'He was more dragging her
along than escorting her, Erik.'
Erik had taken one step after them when Gwen held
his arm. 'Erik, I've been with Stefan. The last time he was
here I went to his rooms at the Peacock. . .' Her voice
lowered as if she was ashamed to speak. 'He left marks on
me, Erik. He likes to hit while he's having you, and when
I cried, it made him laugh.'
Roo had been standing beside Erik. As Erik turned
away toward the apple grove, Roo saw an expression on
Erik's face that caused him to hesitate an instant. While
Erik moved away with purposeful steps, Roo grabbed
Gwen by the arm. 'Go to the Pintail and find Nathan. Tell
him what happened and to come to the orchard!'
Roo hurried over to where the three soldiers watched
Erik disappear into the night. One looked at Roo with an
open expression of curiosity on his face, and Roo said, 'If
you don't want bloodshed, run and find Owen Greylock
and tell him to come to the old orchard.'
Roo then ran as fast as he could after the rapidly
receding figure of Erik. The slender boy was one of the
fastest runners in town, but Erik had already moved out
of the lantern fight of the square and had vanished down
the street leading to the old apple orchard at the edge of
town.
Roo hurried through the streets, his footfalls slapping
the stones with a sound that seemed to evoke the anger
and outrage in the night. Each step sounded like a hand
striking a face, and with the sound, Roo felt his blood
rise. Quick to anger, slow to release a grudge, Roo knew a
fight was coming and was composing himself to help his
friend. He didn't like Stefan, anyway, from what he had
seen of him, but as each stride took him closer to confrontation,
it was turning into a serious hatred. As he left
the last buildings behind, he caught a glimpse of Erik at
the far edge of his vision, before he faded into the
darkness.
Roo hurried after, but Erik was possessed with an
outrage that lent his feet wings. Roo had never seen Erik
run so swiftly.
Roo crossed the low pasture and jumped the fence that
brought him to the edge of the old orchard, a favored
meeting place for young lovers on warm nights. Reaching
the edge of the trees, cloaked in threatening darkness
after the brightly lit town square and lantern-dressed
streets, Roo was forced to slow to a walk. He moved
between the dark boles, then suddenly was upon Erik,
who turned at his approach. Erik made a motion for
silence, then whispered, 'Over there, I think,' as he tried
to catch his breath.
Roo listened and was about to say he heard nothing
over the pounding of his own heart when a faint movement,
as if someone shifted his weight, could be heard '
the softest rustle of cloth upon cloth. it was in the general
direction Erik indicated. Roo nodded.
Erik moved like a hunter stalking prey. There was
something very wrong in all of this. Rosalyn would
never have come away with any boy to the orchard, for

there was only one reason to be here. Rosalyn was still a
virgin, of that Erik was certain, still too young to have a
lover. Some girls, like Gwen, matured early and enjoyed
the company of older boys, while others were shy.
Rosalyn was not only shy; once outside her father's inn
she was intimidated by the company of any boys besides
Erik and Roo. Even the most innocent compliment
would bring a blush to her cheeks, and when the other
girls started talking about the town boys, she would
excuse herself in embarrassment. Erik knew in his heart
she was in danger, and the silence of the orchard
frightened him. If another couple had been making love
anywhere within this grove, sounds would carry this
quiet night.
Abruptly, both boys heard a sound that made their
hair stand on end. A girl's cry split the night, followed
by the sound of a fist striking flesh, then silence. Erik
leaped toward the sound. Roo hesitated an instant, then
followed.
Erik ran without thought toward where the sound
had come from. Then he saw Rosalyn, and his world
froze for an instant. The girl lay back against the bole of
a tree, her face bruised and her dress in tatters. Her
blouse was torn from her, exposing her breasts, and her
skirt was ripped away, with only a tattered rag around
her waist. Erik could see blood running from her nose
and she was without motion. Erik felt something hot
and blinding rise up within him.
A sense of movement, rather than anything really                           
seen, caused Erik to move to his right, saving his life. A                  
searing pain erupted in his left shoulder as Stefan's sword                 
point pierced it. With a cry of agony, Erik felt his knees go               
weak from the unexpected shock. Then Roo flew past his                           
friend, driving his head into Stefan's stomach. Erik                        
almost fainted when the sword point was wrenched from                       
his shoulder. His vision swam and his stomach knotted,                      
and he had to force himself not to lose consciousness. He                   
forced himself back to his feet as he shook his head to                     
clear it. The sound of Roo's panic-stricken plea for help                   
brought him back to alertness.             
In the dark, with only the middle moon shining                             
through the branches, he could see Roo wrestling Stefan                     
on the ground. The smaller lad had surprised Stefan, but                    
that advantage was now gone. Stefan was using his                           
superior strength and size to force himself atop Roo. Only                  
the fact that his sword was designed for fighting at arm's                       
length saved Roo's life. Had Stefan held a dagger, the boy                  
would surely be dead.                    
As Roo called his name, Erik ignored the terrible pain                          
in his left shoulder and with a single step came up behind                  
Stefan. He grabbed his half brother around the waist and                    
yanked him up in a massive bear hug, a primitive cry                        
erupting from his own throat. Stefan's breath exploded                      
from his lungs as the young smith's powerful arms closed                    
hard around his chest; the sword fell from Stefan's hand                    
as he was lifted abruptly off Roo. Held above the ground,                        
all he could do was kick helplessly backwards at Erik and                   
claw at his hands.                        
Erik stood like a man possessed by an avenging spirit as                   
he attempted to crush the life from Stefan. He couldn't                     
take his eyes from Rosalyn, who lay in mute tableau, a
hoarse 
testimony to Stefan's cruelty. Erik had seen her naked as                        
a child, for they had bathed together, but not since they                        
had grown. The sight of her breasts, her own blood                          
dripping between them, was something obscene to Erik.
Lover, husband, child should have touched that flesh,
with nurturing love. His Rosalyn deserved better than
the rough handling of a jaded and cruel noble.
Roo rolled to his feet, his dagger pulled from within his shirt. Murderous anger flashed in his eyes as he stepped
forward. Stefan struggled with hysterical strength and
Erik felt his grip loosen. As Roo reached them, Erik heard
a distant voice shout, 'Kill him!' and as Roo drove home
the blade, Erik realized the voice commanding Stefan's
death was his own.
Stefan stiffened and bucked once, then went limp, and
even when Roo yanked free his blade, the son of the
Baron did not twitch. Erik felt his skin crawl with an
otherworldly sense of disgust, as if he were holding
something profoundly unclean, and he let go. Stefan fell
limply to the ground.
Roo stood over him, holding the still-bloody dagger,
and Erik saw rage was still in his friend's expression.
he said, 'Roo?'
 Roo blinked and looked down at his blade, then at
Stefan. He wiped the blade on Stefan's shirt and put it
away. Frustration and anger still pumped through Roo's
mind and body; in need of another target to vent them
on, he aimed a vicious kick at Stefan's body. The toe of
his boot struck ribs, breaking them. With a final gesture
of contempt, he spit on the corpse.
Suddenly the anger drained out of Erik. 'Roo?' he
repeated, and his friend turned to face him.
Erik's expression was one of confusion and Roo's a
mask of equally confused anger; a third time Erik said
his friend's name. Roo finally answered, his own voice
with excitement and fear. 'What?'
'What have we done?'
Roo looked blankly at Erik a moment, then looked
down at Stefan. Instantly what had just occurred
registered on him. He rolled his eyes heavenward and
said, 'Oh, gods, Erik. They're going to hang us.'
Erik glanced around, and the sight of Rosalyn shook
him back to more pressing needs than concern over his
own fate. He crossed the distance between Stefan's body
and hers and knelt beside her. She lived, but her breath
was shallow and labored, and he moved her to a more
upright position. He watched helplessly, not knowing if
he should cover her up, or see if he could stop the
bleeding from her nose, or what. Then she moaned
slightly.
Roo appeared with a fancy cloak, obviously Stefan's,
and covered her. 'She's in danger,' said Erik.
'So are we,' answered Roo. 'If we stay, they will arrest
us and hang us, Erik.'
Erik looked as if he were about to pick up Rosalyn, but
Roo said, 'We must get away!'
Erik said, 'What do you mean?'
Roo said, 'We've killed the Baron's son, you idiot.'
'But he abused Rosalyn!'
'That doesn't give us a warrant to execute him, Erik.
Do you want to go into court and swear that this was
only about Rosalyn? If it had been anyone else- in the
entire world but your own half brother. . .' He left the
thought unfinished.
'We can't leave her here,' said Eric,
The sounds of men shouting echoed through the night.
'She won't be undiscovered for long. This orchard is
going to be swarming with the Baron's soldiers in a few
minutes.' As if to punctuate the observation, Erik could
now hear distinct voices as the men advanced toward the
orchard.
Roo looked ready to run at a moment's notice as he
looked around the glade. 'We didn't have to kill him,
Erik. If we are put in the dock and made to testify, we
can't honestly say we had to kill him.' Roo put his hand
on Erik's arm as if to drag him from the scene. 'I wanted
him dead, Erik. You did, too. We murdered him.'
Erik found it almost impossible to keep events clear in
his head. He knew he had felt something close to murder
in his heart as he wrestled with Stefan, but now that was
a distant memory, and events were jumbled.
'I've got my money, here' - he indicated his travel
bundle -'so we can make for Krondor and buy passage
to the Sunset Islands.'
'Why there?'

'Because if a man lives for a year and a day in the
islands and commits no crime, he's pardoned for whatever
he did before he came there. It's an old law from,
when the islands came into the Kingdom.'
'But they'll be looking for us.'
Rosalyn stirred, with a faint moan of discomfort. Roo
leaned down and asked, 'Can you hear me?'
The girl didn't answer. Roo said, 'They'll probably
think we're going to Kesh. A man can hide in the Vale of
Dreams and get across the border without much trouble.'
The vale, the border between Great Kesh and the
Kingdom, was a no-man's-land of smugglers, bandits,
and garrisons along both sides of the frontier. Men came
and went and few questions were asked.
Erik moved his shoulder experimentally and felt
light-headed when a stabbing pain answered his movement. '
This isn't right,' he said.
Roo shook his head. 'If we stay here, we will be hung.
Even if we had twenty witnesses, Manfred would make
sure we were found guilty.' Roo looked around as a
distant shout split the night. 'Someone's coming. We
have to go now!'
Erik nodded. 'I should go back to the inn
'No,' said Roo. 'They'll expect that. We must go down
the old western trail. We'll go all night and cut into the
woodlands at daybreak. If they send the dogs after us, we
had better be across a dozen streams or more before noon.'
'Mother -'began Erik.
'She'll be safe,'Roo interrupted. 'Manfred has no reason
to trouble her. You were always the threat, not your
mother.' A shout from the far side of the orchard caused
Roo to swear. 'They're on the other side already. We're
trapped'
Erik said, 'There,' He pointed to an old tree both had
played in over the years. The centerpiece of the old
orchard, the tree was heavily shrouded in leaves and
might offer possible haven.
They crossed the short distance to the tree and Roo said,
'How's your shoulder?'
'Hurts like blazes, but I can move it.'
Roo didn't hesitate but scampered up the tree. He
moved as high as he could, leaving the slightly heavier
lower branches for Erik. By the time Erik was out of sight,
torchlight and lanterns could be seen coming close.
Roo shook for a moment as he lost balance, then
regained it, and Erik was now almost sick with pain, fear,
and disgust. Stefan's death was still unreal to him; he
could see the dark shape of his body on the ground and
expected him to rise up in a moment, as if this were all
some mummery put on at a festival.
Then a soldier with a lantern saw Rosalyn. 'Master
Greylock, Over here!'
Through the leaves, Erik could barely make out the
figures that rushed to where Rosalyn and Stefan lay a few
yards apart. Then he heard Owen Greylock's voice. 'He's
dead.'
Another voice asked, 'How is the girl?'
A third said, 'She's in a bad way, Swordmaster. We
should get her to the chirurgeon.'
Then Erik heard Manfred's shout of rage. 'They've
killed my brother!' An almost inaudible oath and a sobbing
cry was followed by 'I'll kill him myself.'
Erik caught a glimpse of owen Greylock's slender form
between the nearby leaves and heard the Baron's
Swordmaster say, 'We'll find those who did this,
Manfred.'

Erik shook his head. The three soldiers who had seen
him and Roo run after Stefan and Rosalyn would certainly
place them at the scene. A soldier said, 'I know
there was bad blood between the bastard and your
brother, but why did they beat the girl?' Erik knew then
that they had already been identified.
Erik felt his anger rise again. A familiar voice said, 'Erik
wouldn't harm Rosalyn.'Nathan was there!
'Are you saying my brother did this, Master Smith?'
'Young sir, I only know that this girl is as gentle a soul
as the gods have placed upon this world. She was a sister
to Erik and one of Roo's few friends. Neither boy would
harm her.' Then he pointedly added, 'But I can certainly
imagine them killing anyone who did.'
Manfred's voice rose in anger. 'I'll have no excuse for
black murder, Master Smith. No member of my family
would do this.' Manfred raised his voice to a shout of
command: 'I want every man on his horse and combing
the countryside, Swordmaster. If those two murderous
dogs are found, I want them held until I can join
whichever soldiers find them. I don't want them hung
until I'm there to watch.'
Nathan's voice cut through the muttering of the
gathered soldiers. 'There will be no hanging them out of
hand, young lord. That's the law. And as you are a
member of the family that is wronged, neither you nor
your father can sit in judgment; when caught, Erik and
Roo are to be bound over to a King's justice or magistrate.'
Then Nathan's tone became warning. 'Erik is a
guild apprentice, so if you really want troubles, young sir,
try to put my apprentice into a noose without due writ.'
'You'd bring the guild into this?' asked Manfred.

90         RAYMOND E. FEIST

'I would,' answered Nathan. Erik felt tears gather in
his eyes. Nathan, at least, understood why this had
happened. 'I suggest the young lord returns to his
father's side. Someone needs to break this grave news to
him, and it should be someone he loves.' To drive the
point into the ground, he said, 'It should be you, young
sir.'
There was a stirring and a weak cry from Rosalyn,
and Nathan took command. 'Master Greylock, would
you ask two of your lads to carry the girl back to the
inn?'
Greylock gave instructions and began issuing commands
to search for Erik and Roo.
They remained in the tree while soldiers fanned out
in all directions, and said nothing to each other until it
had been quiet for some time.
Then slowly they dropped to the ground, and
crouched, ready to bolt should any noise indicate they
were discovered. At last Roo said, 'For a while we have
luck on our side.'
'Why?'
'They don't think we're behind them. As they widen
the circle to find us, there'll be more places we can slip
through. Any local farmer would think of the old western
trail, but Greylock's probably never heard of it; all
his trips west have been by the King's Highway. For a
while we can worry about soldiers in front of us, not
behind us.'
Erik said, 'I think maybe we should give ourselves
up.'
Roo said, 'You may have Nathan and the guild to
protect you, maybe, but I don't. Manfred will get me
hung before the sun sets on the day they find me. And
don't think he's likely to worry about the law much if it
dawns on him that you're now a threat to his inheritance,
not Stefan's.'
Erik felt a sinking in his stomach. Roo whispered,
'You've made him Baron next, and I don't think he's
going to want you around to thank you, Erik. We're dead
men if we can't make straight to the Sunset Islands.'
Erik nodded. He was still light-headed and in pain, but
he rose to unsteady feet. Without another word he
followed Roo into the darkness.

SHADOW OF A DARK QUIEEN 93

forehead. He wiped it      
away and said, 'We'd better keep
going.'
Roo nodded, but after three or four fumbling footsteps,

Erik collapsed. Roo tried to help his friend up. 'Why'd
you have to be so damn big'>'
Erik gasped for air and said, 'Go on without me.'
Roo felt the hair rise upon his neck and felt panic slash
through his stomach. Finding strength he didn't know he

had, he forced Erik to his feet. 'And have to explain to
your mother how I lost you? I don't think so.'
Roo silently prayed that Erik could hold on long
enough for them to find shelter and hide from the
dogs. Roo was terrified. One of the heartiest lads in
Ravensburg, Erik had stamina almost as legendary as his
strength among the boys he grew up with. His ability to
work from dawn to dusk since the age of ten, his ability
to carry iron ingots to the forge, his ability to withstand

the constant weight of draft horses leaning on him while
being shod - all had given Erik an almost superhuman
stature among the townspeople. His weakness was as

alien to Roo as it was to Erik himself. Roo found it far
more frightening than anything else that confronted
them. With Erik at his side, he felt he had a fighting
chance to survive. Without Erik, he was helpless.
Roo sniffed the air. 'Do you smell something?'
Erik said, 'Only the stink of my own sweat.'
'Over there.' Roo motioned with his chin.
Erik put his hand against his friend's shoulder and

rested a moment as he sniffed the air. 'Charcoal.'
'That's it!'
'There must be a charcoal burner's hut upwind.'
'It might mask our,scent,' said Roo. 'I know we can't go

much farther. You've got to rest, get your strength back.'
Erik only nodded, and Roo assisted him as they moved
toward the source of the smoke. Through light woods
they stumbled as the sound of the dogs grew louder by

FOUR

Fugitives

Erik fell.

Roo turned and helped his friend back to his feet. In
the distance, the baying of hounds could be heard, accompanied
by the clatter of horses.
The boys had been running on and off since leaving the
orchard the night before, with no more than a few minutes'
rest at any one time. Erik's wound refused to stop
bleeding, though the flow was slight. Still, it throbbed

and burned with heat and he felt himself grow weaker by
the hour as they worked their way down out of the low
mountains of Darkmoor.
The area west of Darkmoor and north of the king's

Highway was still fairly underpopulated. Rocky terrain
with little to recommend itself to farmers, much of the
land had been timbered out but left unplowed. Thick
stands of trees gave way to a sea of stumps, only to be
replaced by unexpected rocky ridges. This region was rich

with gullies, ravines, dead-end canyons, and low, flat
meadows. Despite their having run down any number of
streams, the sound of the dogs had been carrying on the
wind for hours. And as Erik weakened, the sound was
getting closer.
As the morning sun crested the
Erik said, 'Where are we?'
Roo said, 'I'm not sure. When we left the old wagon
trail, I think we turned around a bit. The sun's in the
right place, so we're still heading west.'
Erik looked around, perspiration streaming off his

peaks behind them,

94

the minute. Erik and Roo were not woodsmen, but as
boys they had played in the woodlands near Ravensburg
enough to know those searching for them were less than
a couple of miles behind and coming fast.
The woods thickened and grew more difficult to navigate,
darker shadows confusing their sense of direction,
but the smell of burning wood grew stronger. By the time
they reached the hut, their eyes stung from it.
An old woman, ugly beyond belief, stood tending a
charcoal kiln, feeding small cuts of wood into it, banking
h
flames as she ensured the wood burned down properly;
too hot, and she'd have ashes.
Seeing the two young men suddenly appear out of the
gloom, she shrieked and almost dove inside the rude hut
beside which her kiln rested. The shrieking continued
and Roo said, 'She'll bring them down on us if this
keeps up.'
Erik tried to raise his voice over her shouting. 'We
mean you no harm.'
The shrieking continued, and Roo added his protestation
of no evil intent to Erik's. The woman continued to
shriek. Finally Erik said, 'We had best leave.'
'We can't,' answered Roo. 'You're on your last
legs now.' He said nothing about the wound, which
continued to weep blood, despite the rags pressed
against it.
Stumbling down a small incline to the charcoal
burner's hut, they confronted a simple piece of hide that
served as a door.
Erik leaned his weight against the mud-covered wall
and pulled aside the leather door. The woman huddled
back against the bale of rags that served as her bedding,
shrieking all the more.
Erik finally shouted, 'Woman! We mean you no
harm!'
instantly the shouting ceased. 'Well,' she answered,

RAYMOND E. FEIST

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN  95

her voice as raspy as a wire brush on metal, 'why didn't
you say something?'
Erik almost laughed, he felt so light-headed and giddy.
Roo said, 'We were trying to, but you kept screaming.'
Getting up off the rags, showing a surprising nimbleness
for her age and weight - easily as much as Erik's
and he stood a good foot and a half taller than she - the

woman stepped out of the hut.
Roo reflexively stepped back. She was the ugliest
human being he had ever encountered, if indeed she
was human. From her appearance, she could possibly be
one of those trolls he had heard about that haunted the
woodlands of the Far Coast. Her nose was a lumpy red
protrusion, resembling a large tuber, with one big wart
on the tip of it, from which several long hairs grew. Her
eyes could only be called piggish, and they wept from
some sort of inflammation. Her teeth were blackened
stumps with green edges, and her breath was as foul as
anything Roo had remembered smelling that wasn't
dead. Her skin looked like dried leather, and he
shuddered to consider what her body under that assortment
of filthy rags might resemble.
Then she smiled and the effect was heightened. 'Come
to pay old Gert a visit, have you?' She tried to be girlish as
she combed her fingers through grey hair tangled with
straw and dirt, and had the boys not been so tired and
frightened, they would have laughed. 'Well, my man is
gone to the city, so maybe -'
'My friend is hurt,' interrupted Roo.
Suddenly the old woman's manner changed again as
she caught the sound of the dogs on the wind. 'King's
men are hunting you?'
Roo thought about lying, but Erik said, 'Yes.'
Roo said, 'Baron's men, really.'
'Same thing. Soldiers.' She spat the last word.
'Well, you'd better hide.' She motioned for them to

96         RAYMOND E. FEIST

i

enter the tiny hut. 'They won't find you in there.'
Roo helped Erik into the hut and gagged at the stench.
Erik's eyes watered and he gasped, 'I thought Tyndal's
room was bad.'
Roo said, 'Try breathing through your mouth.'
Gert knelt down next to Erik and said, 'Let me look at
that,' motioning to his bloodstained shoulder.
Erik pulled aside his tunic and the rags. The rags pulled
the skin where blood had dried and he gasped in pain. Gert
probed at the wound with a filthy finger and said, 'Sword
wound. Seen a hundred of them. Swollen around it. Got
the hot sickness in it. Going to kill you, boy, if we don't
clean it out. You got a strong stomach?' she asked Roo.
He nodded, swallowing hard. 'I'm here and haven't
thrown up yet, haven't I?'
'Ha!' She almost cackled as she laughed. 'There's more
to you than meets the eye, Roo Avery.' She rose up as
high as the low floor permitted and said, 'I have just the
thing to put you right. Be back in a jiffy.'
Roo lay back, glad to be resting despite the stench of
the hut. He glanced around; enough gaps in the wall
permitted light to enter, and he saw what looked to be a
water jar with a long neck. He moved the clay vessel and
heard a promising sound of liquid. pulling the cork, he
sniffed and got no odor. He sipped and was rewarded
with fresh water. Drinking a huge mouthful, he suddenly
realized he was ignoring his sick friend.
He put the neck of the jar to Erik's lips and he drank
several mouthfuls, then sank back into the pile of rags. A
fly began to buzz around Roo's head and he absently
swatted at it.
Erik drifted off into a difficult slumber, his fatigue
overwhelming his fear. His breathing came heavily, and
perspiration continued to pour off his brow.
Roo tried to relax, wondering if they could trust this
strange old woman but knowing that further flight was

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN  97

next to hopeless. Then suddenly there was the sound of
barking nearby, and Gert's shriek cut the air.
Erik came awake with a start at the sound. 'What . .
he began, but Roo grabbed his arm.
Dogs could be heard barking nearby and Gert shouted,
'Shoo, Away with you!'
Then horses approached and the boys heard Gert
shout, 'Get these miserable curs away! They'll be bitin'

old Gert in a minute.'
A commanding voice said, 'Have you seen two men,
one large and blond, the other short and dark?'
'And if I did, what's it to you?'
'They're wanted for murder.'
'Murder, is it?' There was a long pause, punctuated by
the sounds of the dogs sniffing the area and the occasional
odd yelp of inquiry. 'What's the reward?'
Erik felt Roo's hand tighten on his arm,at that, and the
answer was, 'The Baron's offered one hundred golden
sovereigns for their arrest.'
'That's a tidy bit, isn't it?' said Gert. 'Well, I haven't
seen them, but if I do, I'll want the gold.'
'Check inside the hut,' ordered the leader.
'Here, now,' Gert began to protest.
'Stand aside, old woman.'
Erik backed away, trying as hard as he could to push
himself backward through the dirt wall, while Roo drew
the ragged, filthy blanket up below his chin.
The leather door was swept aside, and the light was
almost blinding after the darkness. 'What a stench!' said
the soldier, drawing back.
'Go on,' commanded the leader of the troop.
The soldier stuck his head back inside and blinked
against the darkness, then looked directly at Roo and
Erik. He looked to one side and then the other, and at last
pulled his head back out. 'Nothing in there but filthy rags
and some pots, Captain.'
Roo and Erik exchanged glances of wonder in the
gloom. What magic was this?
'What's the matter with the dogs?' asked the captain.
The man who must have been the Houndmaster said,
'They seem to have lost the scent. The charcoal must he
confusing them.'
-then let us go back to the last place you know they
had it, and begin again. Lord Manfred will have our ears
if those murderers escape.'
The dogs began to bark as the Houndmaster blew his
whistle, commanding them to follow. The horses rode
away, and Roo let out his breath, held since the soldier
stuck his face into the hut.
'What caused that?' asked Roo.
Erik said, 'I don't know. Maybe it was too dark to see.'
'No, it was a spell. This Gert is a witch of some sort.'
Erik said, 'The captain said 'Lord Manfred.' My father
is dead.'
Roo didn't know what to say. He glanced at his friend;
in the gloom he saw that Erik had leaned back and closed
his eyes.
After a few moments, the leather door was pulled
back. Instead of Gert, a young woman appeared before
them, tall enough to have to lean forward to enter. Her
hair was dark, black in the gloom of the hut, and her
features were masked, as she was silhouetted against the
daylight.
'What ... ?'began Roo.
'Say nothing,' she replied, then turned to Erik. 'Let me
examine that wound.'
Something in her manner caused Roo to feel uncertain.
Her clothing was nondescript, at least what he
could see of it: a simple dress of some middling color,
perhaps grey, perhaps green or blue; it was difficult to tell
in the dark hut. Her features were partially visible now
that the door was again shut. She had a high forehead

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN  99

and a regal nose, fine features that would have looked
pretty had they not been set in an expression of concentration.

She pulled back Erik's tunic and glanced at the wound.

'This will have to come off. Help me,' she ordered Roo.
He helped Erik stay upright as the woman gathered up
the bottom of the tunic and pulled it up and over Erik's
head, causing him no little pain. He lay back, perspiration
running off his body, panting as if he had exerted himself
in hard work for hours. She touched the wound and he
grunted in pain, teeth clenching.
'You're a fool, Erik von Darkmoor. Two, three more
days, and you'd be dead from blood poison.'
Roo got a good look at the woman and thought she
was beautiful,.but something very offputting in her
manner made him view it as a distant, unobtainable sort
of beauty.
'Where's Gert?' asked Roo softly.
'Off on some business for me,' came the answer.
'Who are you?'
'I told you to say nothing, Roo Avery. You need to
learn there are times to speak and times to listen, and
which time is which. When you have need to speak, you
may call me Miranda.'
She set about tending Erik's wound. From somewhere
in the cluttered hut she produced a bag from which she
fetched a small vial. Opening it, she poured the contents
over the wound, and Erik gasped at the pain. Then he
relaxed. She next pulled the cork from a flask of liquid
and said, 'Drink this.'
Erik obeyed and made a face. 'It's bitter.'
'Not as bitter as untimely death,' said Miranda.
She quickly finished tending Erik's wound, placing a
poultice over it and then bandaging it. By the time she
was finished, Erik was asleep. Without another word she
rose and left the hut.
Roo watched Erik sleep for a minute, then got to his
feet and peeked outside. There was no sign of another
person and he left the hut.
Looking around, he saw only the charcoal kiln
smoldering and a pile of dog droppings from when the
pack had been nearby, but otherwise the area was
deserted.
'Hello there, love!' came a cheerful voice behind him,
and Roo jumped. He turned to find Gert approaching
with a pile of wood in her arms.
'Where is she?' asked Roo.
'Where is who?'
'Wranda.'
Gert stopped and made a face. 'Miranda? Can't say as I
know any Miranda. When the soldiers left, I went to get
more wood to bum, and haven't seen any Miranda.'
'A young woman, about this tail'- he held his hand up
a bit higher than his own head - 'with dark hair, very
pretty, came into the hut and tended Erik's wound.'
'Pretty, you say?' Gert scratched her chin. 'I think you
must have been dreaming, boy.'
Roo took a step toward the hut, drew aside the hide
door, and said, 'Did I dream that?' He pointed to the fresh
bandage on Erik's shoulder.
Gert stared at it. 'That's a puzzler, now, isn't it, dearie?'
She stood there a minute. 'All manner of queer folk in
the woods, though. Perhaps she was one of those elf
creatures you hear of, or a ghost.'
Roo said, 'She was the most flesh-and-blood 'ghost
you'll ever see. And she looked nothing like any elf I've
heard of.'
He looked at Gert and saw her smiling; then her
expression turned somber. 'Well, some mysteries are best
left alone. I've got wood to bum, so get back in there and
take a rest. I have something to eat around here somewhere.'
Roo felt fatigue wash over him. 'Rest is good,' he
muttered, suddenly tired beyond belief. The thought of
sharing a meal with Gert did nothing for his sense of
well-being, but sleep was welcome. Reentering the hut,
he was surprised he didn't notice the stench this time.
Must have gotten used to it, he thought.

Quickly he felt a heavy lethargy sweep over him. Odd
sounds intruded, but he found them difficult to identify.
He lapsed into a deep sleep, ignoring the very busy
sounds of preparation from outside.

A chattering from above caused Roo to sit upright, brushing
leaves from his face. He looked around, then up, and
saw the author of the scolding racket, a red squirrel
defiantly challenging their right to he camped under his
tree. Before Roo could clearly focus on the creature, it
vanished around the bole.
Then he realized he was outside. He turned and saw
Erik sleeping soundly, under a clean blanket, his chest
rising and falling evenly, his color good. Roo looked
down and saw he was likewise bundled against the
night's chill in another heavy blanket, and he felt behind
him, to where his head had rested.
Like Erik's, his head had rested on a travel bundle. His
own was missing. He opened the new one, fearing he had
been robbed. Inside, he discovered a clean tunic and
trousers, a fresh pair of underdrawers and stockings, and
at the bottom he found his money pouch. He quickly
counted and was pleased to find his twenty-seven golden
sovereigns and sixteen silver royals all there.
Roo stood, and found himself remarkably rested. of
the charcoal burner's hut there was no sign, not even
ashes from the kiln. Roo felt he should have been
alarmed by this, but he found himself amused and close
to happy.
He knelt beside Erik and tried to examine the bandage.
It was still clean and, if anything, looked as if someone
had just changed it. He gently reached out and touched
his friend on the arm. 'Erik,' he said.
Erik came awake, blinking for a moment, then sat up.
'What?'
'I wanted to see how you felt.'
Erik looked around. 'Where are we? Last thing I remember. . .'
'
A hut and an old woman?'
Erik nodded. 'And someone else, too. But I can't recall
who.'
'Miranda,' said Roo. 'She said that was her name, but
old Gert said she knew nothing of her.'
Roo stood and extended his hand to Erik. Erik took it
and let his friend pull him to his feet. Expecting to be the
worse for wear, Erik discovered he felt fairly fit.
'How's the shoulder?'
'Stiff,' he answered as he moved it experimentally.
'but better than I thought it would be.'
Roo looked around. 'There's no hut, no kiln, no Gert,
no nothing.'
Erik said, 'And what are these?' He pointed to the two
blankets and bundles on the ground.
'Someone was taking great pains to see we don't freeze
in the night, and they've given us clean clothing.'
Erik suddenly looked at the clothing he was wearing,
and then pulled away his tunic and sniffed. 'I should
smell like a horse after a day in the field, but I don't. And
this shirt feels clean.'
Roo examined his own clothing. 'You don't suppose
old Gert gave us a bath?' He found fear rising up rather
than humor.
Erik shook his head. 'I don't know what to think.'
Then he glanced around. 'It's about nine of the dock
from the angle of the sun, so this day is a quarter over.
We'd better get moving again; I don't know why the
soldiers didn't find us in the hut, but they'll come back
and check again, I'm certain.'
'Check your bundle,' said Roo. 'See what's in it.'
Erik did as he was bidden and found his was packed
much the same as Roo's: fresh shirt and trousers, underdrawers,
and stockings. Also there was a small loaf of
hard bread, and a note.
He unrolled the tiny parchment and read aloud: 'You
lads are safe for the time being. Make straight for
Krondor and Barret's Coffee Shop, Erik. You are now in

our debt, Gert's and mine. Miranda.'
Roo shook his head. 'Running from the King's justice
and now we're in debt to a pair of witches.'
'Witches?'
'What else do you think?' said Roo, looking as if a
demon were about to leap up from the earth and snatch
him to hell. He glanced around, the color gone from his
face. 'Look at that, That's the same low ridge we had to
come down to reach the hut! There was a hut, and a kiln
- now there's no sign that anyone has ever been here.'
He walked over to where the kiln had been. 'There's no
soot, no ashes. Even if you moved the bloody damn
thing, you couldn't clean up this much.' He got down on
one knee. 'There's got to be something' His voice was
growing loud, as if he was becoming angry at discovering
the hut and kiln missing. 'Damn it, Erik, Someone
stripped us, bathed us, cleaned our clothing, and dressed
us again, and we never woke up. What else could it be
but magic.' He rose and went over to Erik. He put his
hands on his friend's arms, and said, 'We're trapped by a
debt to two evil black witches.' His voice continued to get
louder, and Erik realized anger was quickly turning into
hysteria.
'Easy,' said Erik as he placed his hands on Roo's
shoulders and squeezed reassuringly. Moving to where
the kiln had been, he looked quickly around. 'There's
nothing left to show we were ever here, that's for
certain.' He rubbed his chin. 'Gert was no beauty, but I
don't remember anything about her that smacked of
evil, Roo.'
'No one that ugly could be good, believe me,' said
Roo, his tone showing he was obviously not reassured
by Erik's judgment.
Erik smiled. 'It's a mystery and it makes my flesh
crawl, too, but we were not harmed and I seen no way
anyone, witch or not, could force us to serve without
our consent. I know little of this, but the priests claim
you can only enter the service of dark powers willingly.
I'll not be obliged for a favor unasked for, should the
price be a black deed.'
'Fine, you can sound like a litigation solicitor all you
wish while demons are carrying you off to the Seven
Lower Hells, but I'm making straight for a temple when
we reach Krondor and asking for protection!'
Erik shook Roo gently by the arm. 'Take a breath and
let's be off. If you're right, and we need protection, we
still must reach Krondor first. They may think it likely
we're striking for the Vale of Dreams, but that patrol last
night means they're looking everywhere.'
Roo bent down to pick up the bundle and blanket,
and as he folded the blanket, he noticed something.
'Erik?'
'Yes, Roo.'
'See that dog dung over there?'
Erik looked over, partly amused, and said, 'What
about it?'
'I noticed that last night when I went out to talk to
Gert, but look at it now.'
Erik knelt and saw the dried droppings. 'These are
days old.' He started searching around and found a place
where one of the horses had also relieved himself not
too far away. 'Three or four days, from the look of it,' he
said after causing the horse dung to fall apart with a
touch of his boot toe.
'We slept three or four days?'
'From the look of it,' Erik repeated.
'Can we leave now?'
Erik smiled, but there was no humor in it. He picked
up his blanket, folded it, and tucked it inside the bundle.
Then he swung it over his shoulder, saying, 'I think we'd
best do.so.'
Roo gathered together his new bundle, shoved the

blanket inside in a haphazard fashion, and swung it over
his back. Without another word, the two lads headed
west.

Erik held up his hand. They had been traveling for three
days, moving steadily westward through the woodland
north of the King's Highway. They avoided the occasional
farm they encountered and lived off wild berries
and the bread they had found in their bundles. Hard and
chewy, it nevertheless provided surprising nourishment
and kept them going. Erik's shoulder was healing rapidly,
far sooner than either young man thought possible.
They spoke little, fearing discovery, and fearing also to
delve into the mystery of the charcoal burner's hut. It
had been the second day after leaving that they realized
that both Gert and NUranda had known their names
without either young man's having mentioned them.
Toward sundown, a distant voice cried out, a wordless
sound of pain. Erik and Roo exchanged glances and
moved away from the narrow path they had followed.
Whispering, Roo said, 'What's that?'
'Someone's hurt,' said Erik, his voice as low as his
friend's.
'What should we do?'
'Avoid trouble,' answered Erik. 'That may be miles
away. Sound carries funny out here.' Neither of them
had been too far from their hometown as boys, so there
was always some background sound of civilization, no
matter how faintly heard: a voice calling across the
vineyards, the sound of a wagon caravan moving down
the distant King's Highway, a woman singing while she
washed clothing in a stream.
These woodlands were hardly wild, having been
heavily forested over the years for lumber, but they
were infrequently traveled and were therefore dangerous.
Other lawbreakers besides Erik and Roo were likely
to be hiding in the forest.
Erik and Roo moved along at a slow pace, reluctant to
rush into danger. Near sunset they found a man lying
on his back below a tree, a crossbow bolt in his chest.
His eyes were rolled back into his head and his skin was
cold. -A
Roo said, 'It's funny.'
'What's funny?'
He looked at Erik. 'We killed Stefan -, but I never got a
good look at him. This is the first dead man I've had a
chance to look at.'
'Tyndal was the first for me,' said Erik. 'Who do you
think this is?'
'Was, you mean,' said Roo. 'Soldier of some sort.' He
indicated the sword held in loose fingers, and the small
round shield still on the left arm. A simple conical helm
with a bar-nasal lay a short distance away, having rolled
off his head when the man fell.
Roo said, 'There might be something useful here.'
'Stripping the dead is not to my liking,' answered
Erik.
Roo knelt next to the man and investigated the contents
of a small pouch. 'He won't mind, and we can
certainly use that sword.'
In the pouch he found six copper coins and a ring of
gold. 'This will be worth a bit,' he said.

'Looks like a wedding band,' observed Erik. The dead
man was young, only a few years older than himself. 'I
wonder if it was intended for his sweetheart. Perhaps he
was going to ask her to wed.'
Roo pocketed the ring. 'We'll never know. One thing
for certain, he's never going to get the chance to ask.'
Roo took the sword and handed it hilt first to Erik.
'Why me?'
'Because I have my knife and I've never used a sword
in my life.'

'Neither have I,' protested Erik.
'Well, if you need to, just swing it like your hammer
and hope you hit someone. You're strong enough, you
should be able to do a lot of damage if you connect.'
Erik picked up the sword, then pulled the shield off the
man's arm and put it experimentally on his own. it felt
alien, but he felt better for having it there.
Roo put the helm on his own head, and when Erik
looked at him with a questioning expression, he said,
'You've got the shield.'
Erik nodded, as if this made sense, and the two set off,
leaving the nameless man to the scavengers of the forest.
The idea of burial was ignored, as they had no shovel and
were concerned that whoever killed the man might still
be around.
A short time later they heard movement in the brush
ahead. Erik signaled Roo for silence, then motioned that
they should circle off to the right. Roo nodded and began
walking with a tiptoed exaggeration that would have
been comic if Erik hadn't been as badly frightened as his
friend.
They almost walked past the man, but he shifted his
weight and they heard the brush he hid in rustle. Then a
dull thud sounded as a crossbow bolt sped through the air
and struck a tree nearby.
From a short distance away, a fearful voice shouted
with false bravado, 'I have enough bolts to fell an army,
you bastard! You had better leave me alone, or I'll do to
you what I did to your friend.'
Then, from what seemed. almost within touching distance,
a voice shouted, 'Leave your wagon and run, old
man. I'll not bother you, but I mean to have your cargo.
You can't stay awake forever, and if I set eyes on
you again, I'll cut your throat for what you did to
Jamie.'
Erik could hardly act, he was so startled by the sound
of the man's voice so close. Roo looked at his friend, eyes
wide in fright, and motioned that they should move
away. Erik was about to nod agreement when a voice
shouted, 'Hey!'
Suddenly a man with a sword and shield stood up, less
than six feet ahead of them. He saw Erik and Roo and
leaped toward them, brandishing his sword as another
bolt flew through the air, missing all three of them. Erik
reacted. He blindly thrust with the sword, not intending
to do more than push the fighter away. The man tried to
parry, but he was expecting a feint, not a blind thrust,
and Erik's sword slipped along the man's blade and the
point took him in the stomach.
Both Erik and the man stared at each other with astonishment
on their faces, then with what sounded like a
faint 'Damn' the man collapsed at Erik's feet.
Erik was rooted in shock, but Roo leaped away and for
his trouble was almost impaled by another bolt. 'Hey!' he
yelped.
'Who is that?' asked a voice from beyond the brush.
Erik hazarded a look through the brush beyond the
man he had just killed and saw a wagon sitting in a small
clearing. Two horses stood in traces beyond it, and
behind it a.crouching figure waited.
'We're not bandits!' cried Roo. 'We just killed the man
you were shooting at.'
'I'll shoot you, too, if you come closer,' cried the man
behind the wagon.
'We won't come closer,' shouted Erik, a note of desperation
in his voice. 'We just blundered into this mess and
we don't want any trouble.'
'Who are you?'
Roo pulled on Erik's sleeve. 'We're on our way to
Krondor, looking for work. Who are you?'

'Who I am is no one's business but my own.'
Roo got a familiar look, one Erik knew meant Roo was
planning something that usually got both of them in
trouble. 'Look, if you're a merchant traveling alone,
you're an idiot,' shouted Roo. He spoke now in a voice
forced to ease. He looked green at the sight of the dead
man. 'If you're out here, you must be a smuggler.'
'I am no damn smuggler! I'm an honest trader!'
'Who's avoiding paying toll on the King's Highway,'
replied Roo.
'There's no law against that,' came the answer.
Roo grinned at Erik. 'True, but it's certainly a hard way
to save some copper. Look, if we come out slowly, will
you promise not to shoot?'
There was silence, then: 'Come ahead. But I've got a
bolt pointed at you.'
Roo and Erik moved slowly out of the woods into the
clearing, hands held where they could be seen. Erik held
the sword point down, because he had no scabbard in
which to sheathe it, and he had the shield back on his
arm so the man could see he was not hiding a weapon in
the other hand.
'You're a couple of boys!' said the man. He stepped out
from behind the wagon, holding an old but obviously
useful crossbow leveled at them. The man was gaunt and
looked older than his years. Long dark hair fell to his
shoulders, from beneath a felt cap With a tarnished badge
on it. His clothing was old, and oft-mended, and he
obviously cared nothing for fashion; his tunic was
green, his leggings red, his boots brown, and his belt
black. He wore a yellow scarf, and nothing about him
was remotely appealing. His beard was grey, and his
eyes were black.
Roo said, 'Master merchant, you chose a brave course,
but it almost proved -your undoing.'
'Likely you're bandits like those other two,' he
answered, making a threatening gesture with the
crossbow. 'I should put a bolt through you just to be
safe.'
Erik was out of patience with this talk and queasy
from the bloodshed. 'Well, shoot one of us, damn it!
And the other will cut you in two!'
The man almost jumped back, but seeing Erik plant
his sword point first in the dirt, he lowered his crossbow
slightly- Roo said, 'You've no driver?'
'Drive myself,' said the merchant.
'You really keep your overhead down,' observed
Roo.
'What do you know about overhead?' asked the man.
'I know a thing or two about business,' said Roo in
the insouciant tone Erik knew well: it meant Roo had
almost no idea what he was talking about.
'Who are you?' repeated the man.
'I am Rupert,' answered Roo, 'and my big friend's
name is -'
'Karl,' interrupted Erik, not wishing his identity
known. Roo winced, as if he should have thought of
that himself.
'Rupert? Karl? Sounds Advarian to me.'
'We're from Darkmoor,' said Roo, then winced again.
'Lots of Advarian stock in Darkmoor. Rupert and Karl
are common enough names.'
'I'm Advarian,' said the man, putting away his
crossbow. 'Helmut Grindle, merchant.'

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN

'Are you going west?' asked Erik.
'No,' snapped Helmut. 'I've just got the horses facing
west for my amusement. They're trained to walk backwards.'

Erik flushed. 'Look, we're bound for Krondor if you
don't mind company.'
'I do mind,' snapped the merchant. 'I was doing fine
until those two murderers tried to boost my cargo, and I

would have killed the second one - I was just about to let
fly into that brush when you killed him for me.'
Erik said, 'I'm sure. Look. we're going to Krondor, and
it would profit us all if we stayed together.'
'I don't need guards and I won't pay for mercenaries.'

Erik said, 'Oh, wait. I don't mean you need to pay
us- 
Roo leaped in. 'We'll share guard duty with you for
food. Besides, I can drive your team.'
'You're a teamster?'
'I can drive up to six horses without a problem,' Roo
lied. His father had taught him to handle four.
Helmut thought about it. 'Very well. I'll feed you, but
you're standing night watch, and I sleep with my
crossbow.'
Erik laughed. 'No need to fear, Master Merchant. We
may be murderers, but we're not thieves.' His bitter irony
was lost on the man, who, grumbling, motioned for them
to approach the wagon.
'We've still got the better part of an hour's light left, so
there's no sense in dawdling. Let's get moving.'
Roo said, 'Get started and I'll catch up. That second
man had another sword.'
'See if he has any gold!' shouted Helmut after him.
Bending over, he said to Erik, 'He'll probably lie to us
both if he finds any. it's what I would do.' Not waiting for
a reply, he clambered up on the seat of the wagon and
shouted at the horses as he shook the reins. Erik watched
as the overworked and underfed animals pulled into the
traces, and the wagon lurched forward.

FIVE

Krondor

The wagon halted.
Helmut Grindle pointed. 'Krondor.'
Erik, sitting in the back of the wagon, turned and
looked over the shoulders of Grindle and Roo, who had
been driving. Erik had been impressed to discover that
for once his friend really could back up his claim. He
drove the team like an experienced teamster; obviously,
Roo's father had been good for something besides getting
drunk and beating up on him.
Erik looked down the long winding road known as the
King's Highway. They had turned south after Grindle had
passed the last toll station, entering the road near a town
called Haverford. Twice before that patrols of armed
soldiers had ridden past, but at no time did they even
pause to look at Roo or Erik.
As Roo snapped the reins and the wagon started down
the road toward the city, a patrol of city guardsmen rode
toward them. Erik sat as calmly as he could in the rear,
attempting to look as much like just another wagon
guard as possible. Roo's hands knotted on the reins and
the rear left horse snorted at the tension in the line, not
sure if she was asked to change pace or direction. Roo
forced himself to relax and the two of them watched as
the soldiers approached. Then, abruptly, the guards
pulled up. 'There's a long wait,' said the guard sergeant.
Grindle asked,' 'What's the holdup?'
'The King has entered the city. South gate by the
palace is sealed off for his retinue. Everyone else is forced
to use the north gates.' he said, waving in the general
direction Grindle's wagon was headed. 'And the gate
watch is searching the wagons.'
Grindle swore as the guards rode off.
Roo and Erik exchanged glances. Roo shook his head
slightly, indicating Erik should say nothing about the
wagon search. In conversational tones, he said, 'That's
some city.'
"that she is,' replied Grindle.
Krondor sprawled at the head of a large bay, beyond
which an expanse of blue stretched off to the horizon:
the Bitter Sea. The old city was walled, but an extensive
foulburg - the part of the city outside the walls - had
grown up over the years, until now it was much larger
than the inner city. Inside the walls, the view was dominated
by the palace of the Prince of Krondor, which sat
atop a hill hard against the south side of the bay. Ships,
looking like tiny white slips of paper, rested at anchor or
sailed in and out of the bay.
Roo said, 'Master Grindle, what do you think are the
best commodities to ship from this city?' Erik suppressed
a groan as the merchant began his long answer. In the
days since joining up with Grindle, Roo had been pestering
the merchant for ideas on making money. At first the
man was reluctant, as if Roo would somehow steal a
thought from him and he'd be the poorer for it. Roo
made several statements as if they were fact that got the
old merchant going, telling the youth he was an idiot and
would end up ruined before he was twenty years old.
When challenged as to why, he'd open up with a sound
argument. By cleverly asking questions, Roo would turn
the conversation into an ongoing lecture on how to conduct
business.
'Rare, that's the thing,' said Grindle. 'You can hear
there's a shortage of hides for making boots in Ylith. So
corner all the hides in Krondor you can. By the time you
reach Ylith, you find some lad from the Free Cities has
already imported ten wagonloads of hides and you're
ruined. But rarities, There are always rich men looking
for fine cloth, precious gems, exotic spices, and the like.'
Glancing around to see he was not overheard, he continued. '
You can build volume in commodities. You can

be the largest wool shipper in the West, but one plague of
anthrax on the sheep herds, one ship sunk on its way to
the Far Coast, and bang!' He slapped his hands together
for emphasis. One of the horses cocked an car at the
noise. 'You're ruined.'
'I don't know,' said Roo. 'People may not have money
to buy luxuries, but they have to cat.'
'Bah!' said Grindle. 'Rich people always have money to
buy luxuries. Poor people often don't have money to buy
food. And rich people may eat better than poor, but one
man can only eat so much, no matter how rich.'
'What about wine?'
Grindle launched into a discussion, and Erik sat back,
turning his mind to the last few days. At first bored by the
chatter, Erik discovered there was a lot about the
business world that was interesting, especially in terms of
risk versus reward. Grindle claimed he was only a modest
merchant, but Erik was beginning to believe that was
intentional understatement. The cargo in the wagon was
an odd mix, a half-dozen bolts of embroidered silk, a
dozen small jars carefully lashed together with huge
amounts of cotton wadding for protection, some wooden
boxes with heavy cord tied around them, and some odd
sacks. The boys never asked what was in the packages
and Grindle never volunteered. From the course of the
recent discussion, Erik assumed the man traded in precious
goods, small but of high value, and wore poor
clothing and drove a modest-appearing wagon to throw
off suspicion. Erik suspected Grindle might have gems or
some other cargo of small bulk and large value there.
The first night together, Erik had noticed that while the
wagon was dirty on the outside it was clean in the back
where the cargo lay, and it was very well repaired. The
wheels had recently been reset and the work had been
first-rate, with the hubs properly packed and the iron
bands on the wheels carefully attached with more than
the minimum number of nails. The horses were likewise
more than they seemed. Grindle kept them modestly
dirty, though not enough to pose a health problem, but
they were scruffy-looking animals until you examined
them closely. Their hooves were trimmed at the proper
angle and the shoeing was absolutely masterful, as good
as any Erik had seen. The animals were more than
sound, they were fit and well cared for; every night
Grindle supplemented their roadside grazing with fresh
grain from a bag he stored under the wagon seat.

Roo ducked and rustled the reins and the wagon rolled
forward again, moving in behind a long line of wagons
that were stretching along the highway toward the city.
Grindle said, 'This is the longest damn wait I've seen in
my life!'
'It doesn't look like we're moving any time soon. I'll go
look.' Roo handed the reins to Grindle.
Erik said, 'I'll go with you,' and leaped down off the
wagon, following after Roo.
As they moved along, several wagon drivers were
standing up in their seats, attempting to see what the
delay ahead might be. Ten or so wagons ahead of
Grindle's, they encountered a teamster heading back
toward the end of the line, muttering curses.
'What's the holdup?' asked Roo.
The man didn't even look at them as he said, 'Some
damn nonsense if you ask me. They're searching the
wagons before they even reach the outer edge of the
foulburg. Couldn't do it at the city gate, proper like. No,
they set up a second search point down at the creek
bridge. I guess they just have to ruin a man's chances of a
hot dinner. It'll be hours before we get through.' The
man reached his own wagon, five ahead of Grindle's, and
swung up to take the reins from his apprentice. 'Prince's
funeral - every noble in the West and half from the East
in town - and market day, yet they're climbing through
every wagon and looking at every man coming in like

they were on the hunt for the King's own murderer.' The
man's comments descended into general muttering,
peppered by some colorful obscenities, as Erik motioned
for Roo to come away.
Out of earshot of anyone in the waiting line of wagons,
Roo said, 'What do we do?'
Erik said, 'I don't know. With all this funeral stuff
going on, it may be something else they're on the watch
for, but it could be our necks if they are looking for us.'
He thought a minute. 'Maybe we wait until dark, circle
away from this road, and see if there's another way into
town less watched. And there's still the problem of getting
into the city proper behind the wall.'
'One at a time. If we can get into the foulburg, we can
find a way through the walls, I'm certain. There's always
a way in and out of a city for folks who don't want too
much attention drawn to themselves.'
'Thieves and smugglers?'
'Yes.'
'What if we circle the city and strike out for another
port?'
'Too far,' said Roo. 'I don't know how far Land's End is
to the west, but I remember my father swearing a blue
streak when he had to go there. Almost half again as far,
he'd say. And I don't know what sort of ports there are to
the north.
'Besides, on the road, without Grindle's wagon, we'd
stand out like we were painted red.'
Erik nodded. 'Well, we'd better go back and say
something to Grindle so he doesn't get suspicious.'
'He's suspicious already, but he's not overly curious,
which is better,' answered Roo. Then, with his infectious
grin, he added, 'Besides, I think he likes me. He says he has
a daughter I should meet, and I'll bet you she's as ugly as
he is.'
Erik had to laugh. 'Going to marry for money?'
As they approached Grindle's wagon, Roo said,'Only if I
get the chance.'
Grindle listened as they explained the delay, then said,
'Are you going on ahead?'
Roo said, 'I think so. We can get through the gate faster
if we go now, and you're safe from any marauders, so you
don't need our company any longer, Master Merchant.
We've got business near the port, and the sooner we can
get there the better.'
'Well then, the gods' speed to you, and if you ever
return to Krondor, drop by and tell me how you're doing.'
To Roo he said, 'You're a rogue and a liar, boy, but you
have the makings of a good merchant if you'd just stop
thinking everyone else around you is slower than yourself.
That will be your undoing, you mark my words.'
Roo laughed and waved good-bye to Grindle as Erik
shouldered his travel bag. They walked down the line of
wagons until they were sure they were out of sight of the
merchant, and then they angled off, away from the King's
Highway and toward a small farm to the north.

Erik swatted a persistent fly that refused to stay away from
his face. 'Got the little bastard!' he said with satisfaction.
Roo waved away several others and said, 'Now, if you
could manage to kill all his little brothers and sisters, as
well. . .'
Erik lay back on a bale of straw. The farm was deserted,
looking as if the entire household had gone into the city
for some reason. It was a well-tended smallholding with a
house, two outbuildings - one a privy and the other a
root cellar - and a barn. They had found the ham unlocked
and wagon tracks leading away, so Erik supposed
the farmer and his family had been stuck somewhere in
that long line of people waiting to get into the city or had
gotten there earlier in the day.
Erik and Roo were waiting for sundown before
attempting to cross the open fields to the east of the city
and make their way into the foulburg. Roo was confident
that once they found a likely inn he could find someone

to show them the way into the city for a small fee. Erik
wasn't as certain of the plan, but had nothing to offer by
way of an alternative, so he said nothing. They sat at the
rear of the barn, beneath the hayloft.
'Erik?'
'Yes?'
'How do you feel?'
'Not bad. My shoulder feels like new.'
'No, I don't mean that,' said Roo, nibbling on a long
straw. 'I mean about everything - killing Stefan and the
rest.'
Erik said nothing for a long while; at last he said, 'He
needed killing, I guess. I don't feel much of anything. I
felt very strange when he went all limp after you stuck
him. I felt a lot worse when that bandit got in the way of
my sword point. That made me feel sick.' He was quiet
for a minute. 'It's odd, isn't it? I hold my own half
brother so you can kill him and don't feel much - not
even relief because of the way he abused Rosalyn - but a
complete stranger, a murderer probably, and I feel almost
like vomiting.'
Roo said, 'Don't be so hard on murderers. That's us,
remember?' He yawned. 'Maybe you have to be holding
the blade; that robber dying didn't bother me, but I can
still feel the way it was when I stuck my dagger into
Stefan. I was sure mad at him then.'
Erik let out a long sigh. 'It doesn't do to dwell on this, I
think. We're outlaws and there's nothing to do for it but
try to get to the Sunset Islands. There's a legacy of some
sort waiting for me at Barret's Coffee House, and I mean
to go there, then find the first ship heading west.'
'What legacy?' Roo sounded intrigued. 'You never
mentioned it before.'
'Well, 'legacy" may he too big a word. My father left
something for me with a solicitor and litigator at Barret's
Coffee House.'
The sound of a wagon in the distance brought both
young men to their feet. Roo peered out the door. 'Either
the farmer got tired of waiting in the line or he's back
from morning market in the city, but either way the
entire family seems to be riding in the wagon and we
can't get out without being seen.'
'Come on,' said Erik, climbing the ladder to the hayloft.
Roo followed and found what Erik had been looking for
a door outside. He knelt and said, 'Stay back against the
wall until they've unhitched the wagons and gone inside.
Then we'll jump down from here and head into the city.
It should be about time, anyway.'
Just then the door to the barn was heaved open, and a
child's voice shouted above the loud creaking, 'Papal I
didn't get to see the Prince.'
A woman's voice said, 'If you hadn't been hitting your
sister, you would have seen hhnhim ride by.'
Another male voice, an adult's, said, 'Papa, why do
you think the king named Nicholas Prince instead of
Erland?'
'That's the business of the Crown, and none of mine,'
came the answer as the wagon rolled into the barn,
backed in by the farmer. Erik pecked over the edge of the
loft and saw the farmer sitting in the wagon seat, letting
his eldest son push the horses backwards as he kept an
eye on things. They had obviously done this hundreds of
times, and Erik appreciated the ease with which they
ensured the horses did exactly what was asked, keeping

the wagon intact and those riding in it safe. They continued
to talk.
The son said, 'Father, what's it going to be like with a
new Prince?'
'Don't know,' said the farmer. 'Seems like Arutha was
ruling there long as I can remember. Back to before I
can remember. Fifty-three years on the throne of the
West. Well, Nicholas is the son said to be the most like
his father, so maybe things won't change much.' The
wagon stopped rolling. 'Get Davy out of his traces first
and put him away. I want you to take Brownie outside
and walk her so I can see if she's really lame on her left
front or just acting lazy, like usual.'
The elder boy did as he was instructed while from the
house the distant shouts of the younger boy and a girl
could be heard, followed almost instantly by a scolding
from their mother. The farmer dismounted from the
wagon and removed some grain sacks from the back,
loading them into a pile below the hayloft.
When the second horse was out of her traces, father
and son left the barn, and Erik said, 'We'd better clear
out. if they need fodder for the animals, the boy will be
up here in a few minutes.'
'It's still light out,' Roo complained.
'It's almost sundown. We'll just keep the barn between
us and the house for a bit. If anyone sees us we'll
be two travelers walking across the field, heading for
town.'
Roo said, 'I hope you know what the hell you're talking
about.'
Erik pushed open the door to the outside through
which hay was hoisted into the loft, and looked down.
'It's only a bit of a jump, but be careful not to twist your
ankle. I don't want to have to carry you.'
'Right,' said Roo with thinly disguised concern. He
looked down to the ground below and found the distance
far greater than he had remembered. 'Can't we climb
back down the ladder and sneak out?'
'One door, remember? And they're exercising a horse
right in front of it.'
The creak from out front told Erik and Roo the farmer
was returning. 'Lazy creature. Why should I feed you if
you're pretending to be lame to get out of work?' asked
the farmer with affection.
His son's voice carried to the loft as Erik lowered himself
to hang from the edge, then let go. 'I like the way that
lameness moves from foreleg to back, then from right to
left, depending on which way she's going.' His laughter
showed his genuine amusement.
Roo repeated Erik's movements, hanging for what
seemed the longest moment before he let go, expecting
to slam hard into the ground and break both legs. Erik's
powerful hands closed around his waist and slowed him
just enough so that he landed lightly on his feet. Roo
turned and whispered, 'See, nothing to it.'
'Did you hear something out back?' came the voice of

the son.
Erik motioned for silence and they hurried away from
the barn.
Whatever curiosity the farmer's eldest son might have
had, the requirements of caring for the animals must
have displaced it, for no one came to investigate the
sound. Erik and Roo hastened along, until they were a
quarter mile across the field, then slowed to a casual
walk.
They plodded down the rolling hillside, approaching
the outer buildings of the city as the sun went down. Erik
looked at the foulburg as they neared it, and said, 'Keep
an eye out for guards.'
They reached a low row of huts and simple gardens,
with no clear passage between the buildings. In the evening
light they could see a few hundred yards to the north
of them that another road entered the city. They made out
movement along the road, but neither Roo nor Erik could
tell if it was field hands returning to the city or soldiers on
patrol using the thoroughfare.
Roo said, 'Look,' and pointed to what was little more
than a clear space between two houses, but through
which they could reach the first north-south street in

town without having to use the main roads. They stepped.
over a low fence, carefully avoiding the rows of vegetables
planted there, and made their way to the back of the hut.
Ducking low so as not to be seen through the single
window, they skirted away from the rear door and moved
between the buildings. Obviously in one of the poorer
sections of town, this little alleyway was heavily littered
with trash. They picked their way along, trying to be as
quiet as possible.
Reaching the street, Roo peered out and pulled back,
hugging the wall. 'It's pretty empty.'
'Do you think we're beyond where the guards are?'
'I don't know. But, at least we're in Krondor.'
Roo moved out into the street, then strolled along, as
Erik caught up. They glanced right and left and saw only a
few locals, some of whom paused to study the two young
men. Roo started to feel self-conscious about the attention
and motioned for Erik to follow him into a small neighborhood
tavern.
They entered a dingy, smoke-filled common room,
populated by only two other men and a barkeep, who
looked at them with suspicion. 'Help you?'he asked with a
tone that indicated help was far down his list of priorities.
Roo removed his travel bag and said, -two ales.'
The man didn't move, continuing to stare at Roo. After a
moment, Roo dug into his belt pouch and pulled out a pair
of copper coins. The man took the money, inspected it,
and then put it in his own belt pouch. He reached under
the bar and produced two empty flagons, which he carried
halfway down the bar to a large tap. He pulled it
twice, filling each flagon with a frothy brew. Returning to
where Roo and Erik waited, he put them down before
the two young men. 'Anything else?'
Erik said, 'Anything to eat?'
The man indicated a kettle hanging before the fireplace
on the other side of the room. 'Stew's done. Two coppers
a bowl, three if you want bread.'
The smell wasn't promising, but Erik and Roo were
both hungry, having had nothing to eat all day. Erik said,
'We'll take the stew and the bread.'
The man still didn't move, until Roo put more money
on the bar. Then he went and filled two wooden bowls
with stew and carried them back. He produced a couple
of small loaves of bread and set them down on the dirty
bar next to the bowls, then produced two almost clean
wooden spoons and put them in the bowls before Erik or
Roo could intercept them.
Roo was too hungry to notice, and seeing his friend not
suffering from eating the stew, Erik tried his own bowl. It
was nothing like his mother's, but it was hot and filling,
and the bread was acceptable, if a little coarse.
As casually as he could, Roo said, 'What's all the fuss
about?'
'What fuss?' asked the barkeep.
,Outside, at the gate,' replied Roo.
'Didn't know there was a fuss.'
Erik said, 'We just got to Krondor and didn't feel like
waiting in that long line to eat.'
The barkeep was silent until Roo put money on the bar
and signaled for two more ales, even though the first
were only half-drunk. The barkeep produced another set
of flagons and said, 'Prince of Krondor died.'
'We heard that,' said Roo.
'Well, his son is being installed in the office tomorrow.
His brothers are here.'
'The King's in Krondor?' said Erik, feigning surprise,
even though he had heard that earlier.
'That's why there's so much security at the gates,' said
the barkeep. 'There's a pair of murderers they're looking
for; did in some noble east of here, if you believe the
story. of course, everyone and his uncle's pet dog is in
town for the festival. Funeral parade was today, which is
why everyone took the day off to gawk at the King.

Tomorrow they have this ceremony, then another
parade, so those that couldn't see anything will get their
chance. After that, the King will take his father back to
Rillanon for burial in the family vault. And Prince
Nicholas will come back as the new Prince of Krondor.
Then we'll have another festival, and everyone will drink
too much and nothing will get done. Then all the visiting
nobles will go home.'
'You don't sound very impressed,' said Erik.
The front door opened and two more rough-looking
men entered, sitting down at the table occupied by the
first two.
The barman shrugged. 'Why should I? Old Prince, new
Prince, the taxes are the same.'
Roo continued to sound matter-of-fact. 'Well, now
that we're getting some food in us, I guess we'll just have
to go stand in line like everyone else.'
The barkeep said, 'Not, I should think.'
Roo tried to look uninterested and said, 'You know
another way into Krondor?'
At this the barkeep's expression changed to one of
surprise. 'No, just that they close the gate in an hour and
you won't be able to get in tonight.'
'They close the gate?' '
'With the King in the city, of course,' answered the
barman, now interested. 'You have a problem?'
Erik was about to say nothing at all was the matter, but
Roo quickly said, 'We have to find a ship and be on it at
first light tomorrow.'
'Plan on taking another, then,' said the barkeep. 'For
many of those waiting to get into the city will simply
sleep before the gate, so even were you to leave now and
take a place outside, you'll be hours getting through
tomorrow. It will be like that every day until the King
and his family leave next week.'
Narrowing his gaze, Roo said, 'I don't suppose you
know of another way into the inner city? Say, perhaps,
one used by locals and not widely talked about?'
The barman glanced around the room as if fearing
being overheard - highly unlikely, given that the other
four men in the room were lost in their own conversation -
and said, 'I might. But it would cost you.'
'How much?'
'How much do you have?'
Before Erik could plead poverty, Roo said, 'My friend
and I can pay ten gold pieces.'
The barman looked surprised at the amount, but only
said, 'Let's see your gold.'
As Roo made to undo his backpack, Erik placed a
restraining hand on his shoulder. 'Ten gold pieces is all
we have in the world. It's taken us months to scrounge it
together. We were going to purchase passage with it.'
'You're young and strong. You can work your passage.
There are ships leaving for Queg, the Free Cities, Kesh,
every port you might wish to reach. They are always
looking for deckhands.'
The barman nodded, and the sound of chairs being
pushed away from the table caused Erik to turn. The two
men who had just entered were already closing, billy
clubs held high. Roo tried to duck under a blow and for
his trouble caught the strike on his shoulder instead of
his head. His knees went loose from the pain and he fell.
Erik tried to draw his sword, but the nearest man was
upon him. Letting go of the hilt, Erik unloaded a backhand
blow that sent the man flying into the one coming
behind him.
The man who was clubbing Roo turned and shouted,
'Get him!'
Erik was starting to draw his sword when a blow to the
back of the head stunned him. He felt his legs go out from

under him and his vision swam.
Two men grabbed him and hoisted hhnhim up, and before
he could resist he was tied like a fatted calf. The barman
came around, holding the lead-filled club he had struck
Erik with from behind, and said, 'The little one is probably
worthless, but the big fellow will bring a good price
as a galley slave, or maybe even as a fighter in the arena.
Get them to the Quegan buyer before midnight. The
envoy's escort galleys leave tomorrow on the evening
tide, after the festivities at the palace.'
Erik tried to say something, and for his troubles caught
another blow to the head. He slumped down, unconscious.


Erik's eyes opened. He sat up. His head throbbed and his
vision went in and out of focus, as his stomach knotted.
He swallowed hard, closed his eyes, discovered that made
his nausea worse, and opened them again. He found his
hands were restrained by heavy iron bracelets and his
legs by even heavier shackles. He looked around, expecting
to be in the bottom of a ship bound for Queg. Instead
he found himself in a cell.
A groan from close by caused him to turn around.
Erik found Roo likewise shackled and trying to sit
up. Erik gave him a hand and the smaller youngster tried
to clear his head.
'Sort of a bad day for you two, wasn't it?' said a voice
from behind them.
Erik turned to find a man leaning back against a window
ledge, bars behind him, his body silhouetted against daylight,
the small aperture being the sole source of light. He
moved away from the window, coming to squat down
before Erik. Erik could make out his features in the dimly
lit room. He was a broad-shouldered, bull-necked man of
middle years, with dark receding hair, cut close, and deep
blue eyes. There was something odd about his manner and
expression, but Erik couldn't put his finger upon it. He
needed a shave and,was dressed in plain tunic and
trousers. High boots, well cared for but old and worn, and
a wide belt were his only other garments.
'Where are we?. . .' He closed his eyes as his head
swam a minute. 'We were struck from behind.'
'Some of the locals trying to sell you to Quegan
slavers,' said the man. His voice was slightly raspy and his
manner of speech common. Erik wasn't sure, but there
was something about his accent that reminded him of
Nathan's, so he assumed the man was from the Far
Coast.
The man smiled, but there was a hint of meanness
behind the smile. 'You were on your way to a less than
pleasant ocean voyage. With the emissary from Queg in
the city, along with several of his King's galleys, the Duke
of Krondor thought there might be something like this
going on.'
'You're not with them?'
'Ha! I'd as soon kiss a goblin as leave a Quegan slaver
alive.' He glanced at Roo, who was regaining his wits.
The man continued, 'The Duke's men intercepted the
slavers on their way to the docks. He was both surprised
and pleased to discover that you two were among those
heading out of the city. There's been quite a search on for
you, my friends.'
'Then you know who we are?' said Erik with resignation. '
Who are you?'

'You've heard of the man they call the Eagle of
Krondor'
Erik nodded. Who that man was and why he was
called that wasn't widely known, but that he existed was
common knowledge. 'Is that you?'
'Ha,' The man gave a harsh bark of laughter. 'Hardly.
But I work for him. You might call me the Dog of
Krondor. I bite, so don't irritate me.' He made a growling

noise and snarled in a fair imitation of a dog. 'My name is
Robert de Loungville. My friends call me Bobby. You call
me sir.'
Roo said, 'What have you to do with us?'
'I just wanted to see if you had any serious wounds.'
'Why?' asked Roo. 'Can't hang an injured man?'
Bobby smiled at this. 'Not my concern. The Prince
needs desperate men, and by all reports you two are
about as desperate as they get. But from what I see, that's
all you are. Well, pitiful, too. The Prince may have to look
elsewhere for his desperate men.'
'We're just going to be hung?' asked Erik.
'Hardly,' said the man. He got up from his squatting
position, groaning theatrically as he did so. 'Knees aren't
what they used to be.' He moved to the cell door and
motioned for the jailer to open it. 'The new Prince of
Krondor. like his father, is a very particular man when it
comes to observing the law. We will have a trial; then we
will hang you.' He passed through the door and it closed
behind him.
A short time later the door opened again and an old
man entered. He was dressed in richly fashioned
clothing, but of plain cut, as if designed for one who was
active despite his rank and years. The man's hair was
silver, he wore a closely trimmed beard, and his eyes
were dark and penetrating. He studied the two prisoners
carefully.
Kneeling before Erik, he said, 'Tell me your name.'
'Erik von Darkmoor ... sir.'
Then he turned to Roo. 'You are Rupert Avery?'
Roo said, 'Yes. And who are you?' His manner showed
he took exception to being treated so roughly, and if he
was going to be hung he might as well vent his temper on
whoever was nearby, irrespective of rank.
The man smiled, amused by Roo's sharp manner. 'You
may call me Lord James.'
Roo sat up and moved, as far as the length of chain that
bound his leg shackles to the wall permitted, and peered
upward through the small window. 'Well, Lord James,
how long do we rot here in the Krondor jail before we're
tried and hung?'
'You're not in the Krondor jail, my abrupt young
friend,' answered James. 'You're in the Prince's palace
and your trial will commence the day after tomorrow, as
soon as Nicholas has taken his office. Unless you're in a
particular hurry, in which case I could ask the King to
preside this afternoon.'
'Well, by all means,' snapped Roo. 'If His Majesty isn't
too busy, I'm sure we'd all just as soon get this over with.
And he'd drop everything else just because you asked.'
James smiled and there was a dangerous quality to it.
'I'm sure he would; I'm something of an uncle to the
King,' he said. 'I'm also the new Duke of Krondor.'
Standing, the Duke said, 'Have you anyone to speak on
your behalf'
Erik said, 'There is one man, at Barret's Coffee House,
by name Sebastian Lender. He might speak for me.'
The Duke nodded. 'I know him by reputation. Tricky
bastard. He may keep you from being hung. I'll send for
him and have him speak with you about your defense. '
He moved toward the door. 'Then I'll see if the King is
free tomorrow,' he said pointedly to Roo. 'But if I were
you, I'd wait until Nicholas sits the Western Throne. He's
of more even temper than his brother, and His Majesty

doesn't take kindly to those who         go aroundaround murdering
his nobles.'
'Nobles?' said Roo. 'Stefan may have had a father of

rank, but he was still a swine.'
James smiled, again without humor. 'Perhaps, but as
his father had died less than an hour before him, for a
very short time he was Baron of Darkmoor.'
The door was opened and Duke James left. Erik looked
at Roo and said, 'So much for the Sunset Islands.'
Roo sat back down, unable to see anything through the
small window. 'Yes, so much for the Sunset Islands.'

Erik and Roo were moved the next morning, without
being told why. A squad of soldiers wearing the livery of
the Prince of Krondor's own Household Guards arrived
and unchained Erik and Roo from the wall, leaving the
shackles and cuffs on. They were escorted to a large cell
with a long, barred wall, through which other cells with
wooden doors could be seen. The cell was partially
below-ground. At head height, a long window, less than
one foot high, ran the length of the cell, and both prisoners
could see it allowed a view of a long gibbet erected at
the far side of a large courtyard. A half-dozen nooses
hung from a single long crossbeam, supported by heavy
timbers between each noose.
Erik studied it briefly; it would be a simple enough
execution. The prisoners would be marched up several
steps at one end and made to step up on three-foot-high
wooden boxes, which were kicked out from under their
feet once the nooses were around their neck.
Erik and Roo took up places alongside the bars and sat
in silence. Erik glanced around the cell. Seven other men
were likewise manacled and shackled, awaiting whatever
fate held in store. All looked rough and dangerous, some
more than others. Erik was used to being the largest boy
in his town, and had grown to be one of the strongest
men, but at least two of the men in the cell were his
equal in size, perhaps in strength as well.
At midday another pair of prisoners were admitted to
the cell, these looking as if they had been severely beaten
after being apprehended. One of the men, a hulking
brute being dragged by three guards, had obviously put
up a struggle, as he was barely conscious, but the other
kept up a steady stream of invective as the guards threw
him roughly into the cell, then left. He called after them,
'When I'm out of here, my lads, you can bet we'll he
settlin' accounts! I have your names! Every one of you.'
He spoke with an affected speech, trying to sound educated
while being betrayed by his lower-class accent.
Sitting down, he added, 'You bloody bastards.'
Looking at Erik, who sat across from him, then at his
nearly unconscious companion, he said, 'Old Biggo don't
look so good, does he?'
From a corner of the cell another man said, 'Better for
him if he stays out on his feet. Won't feel his neck getting
stretched.'
'We're not for the gallows, old Biggo and I!' said the
other man with fear in his voice. 'We're well connected,
we are. Friends to the Sagacious Man himself!'
'Who is the Sagacious Man?' asked Roo.
From across the cell another man said, 'The leader of
the Mockers. And this liar has been about as close to the
Sagacious Man as I have been to the King's mother.'
'You watch!' said the man who had been boasting.
'We'll be out of here soon!'
The door at the end of the hallway opened and a man
entered, flanked by two guards. He wore a finely made
robe, and upon his head was a hat Erik found comical - a
short brim around a circular crown, fashioned from
purple felt. A whipcord tie under his chin held it in place
on his head. He had the face of a scholar or priest, thin
and pale, with a long nose and square jaw. But his eyes
were alive and seemed to miss nothing as they swept
around the room.
The guards did not open the cell, but stood away. The
man came and stood at the bars. 'Who here is Erik?'

Erik stood up and moved to stand opposite the
stranger, and Roo came to his side. 'I'm Erik.'
'What is your surname?'
'I am called von Darkmoor.'
The man nodded. 'I am Sebastian Lender, from
Barret's Coffee House.' He studied Erik and Roo for a
long minute, as if memorizing every aspect of their appearance.
Then at last he said, 'And you two are in a
great deal of trouble.'
'So we gathered,' answered Roo.
'I may be able to save your lives,' said Lender. 'But you
must tell me exactly what occurred. Don't leave out
anything and don't lie to me.'
Erik told him exactly how he recalled things, and Roo
added what he knew. Afterward Lender said, 'With what
Baron Manfred has testified and the girl, Rosalyn, has
said, it's clear that Stefan was hoping to lure you into a
trap where he could kill you.'
'When do we stand trial?' asked Erik.
'Two days from now. As it's a capital case and one of
the King's nobles was the victim, you're being tried in
Royal Court, here at the palace.' He was thoughtful. 'The
Prince is likely to be hard, but fair. The Court of Common
Pleas tends to breed a more cynical justice. Everyone
brought before the justices there is innocent.'
Erik said, 'My father said to find you
'Yes. I was to give you something.'
,what?'
'An odd legacy, I'm afraid. A small amount of gold,
which will be barely sufficient to pay my fees, I'm sorry
to say. And a pair of boots; the boots were your grandfather's,
 according to what Otto told me, and as you were
of a size, your father supposed they might fit you. Also
there was a fine dagger, which I obviously can't give to
you here.'
'A dagger?' asked Roo.
Lender put up his hand. 'Over the years I have managed
many stranger legacies. In any event, it is moot until the
trial. We shall see if that goes as we wish; if so, we can
move on from there.'
'What are our chances?' asked Erik.
'Thin,' answered Lender frankly. 'Had you stayed, you
might have built a persuasive brief that you killed Stefan
in self-defense. Manfred admits that he went seeking his
father to gain an order from him telling Stefan to leave off
some hot-blooded plot or another. He will not tell what
that was, claiming only that Stefan was looking for
trouble.'
'Will he testify to this?'
'He already has,' said Lender. 'He'll be on his way back
to Darkmoor, after Nicholas takes office tomorrow, and I
have a copy of his deposition before the King's Magistrate.
It's very noncommittal in places, and had I known I was to
be arguing on your behalf, I would have been a lot more
probing than was the King's man.'
'Can't you ask him more questions?' asked Roo.
'Not unless he's compelled by King's warrant,
answered Lender, 'and I suspect the King won't be inclined
to agree.'
'Why not?'asked Roo, not entirely sure what was being
said. 'The King wants justice, doesn't he?'
Lender smiled, and it was the indulgent look of a master
being asked something obvious by a gifted but untutored
apprentice. 'Our King, more than most, seems interested
in justice; something to do with some time he spent in
Great Kesh as a youngster, I believe. But he's also interested
in not making it look too easy to kill a nobleman and
avoid hanging. There's justice, and then there's justice.'
Erik sighed. 'And we did kill Stefan.'
Lowering his voice, Lender said, 'Did you go to find
him with murder in your heart?'
Erik was silent a minute, then said, 'Yes, I guess I did. I
knew he was going to try something with Rosalyn;
I knew what I would find and I knew I'd end up killing
Stefan. I can't even say I just went to protect her.'
Lender glanced at Roo. The slight boy nodded and
Lender let out a long sigh. 'If that's true, I doubt any
power can save you from that.' He pointed out the high

Window at the gibbet.
Erik nodded, and Lender left without further comment.


six

Discovery

The creature stirred.
The woman stood patiently as the creature's companions
moved to one side. Several others huddled in distant
corners of the immense hall, speaking quietly to one
another, while those who had been attending the sleeping
monster crossed to join them. The woman ignored
them and studied the waking creature. To the mortal. eye,
the beast appeared to be the grandmother of all
dragonkind, a gigantic being whose bulk massed high
above her servants. She loomed enormous even in the
vast hall that served as her home. In distant sconces, oil
lamps flickered, but both the dragon and the woman
needed little natural light to navigate the gloom. A faint
scent of spice hung on the air, perhaps as an artifact of
the making of the oil, perhaps to sweeten the air; the
woman didn't know.
At last the dragon opened eyes the size of palace
windows and blinked. She stretched, and lowered her
head as she yawned, displaying ivory teeth the size of
flashers, the giant two-handed scimitars used in Great
Kesh. Her skin was the reason for the absence of more
illumination, for it consisted of gems, fused over plates
once golden in color. Brighter illumination caused a riot
of rainbow light throughout the hall and while capable of
arts beyond most human understanding, the dragon
found the constantly dancing reflections gave her a headache.

The woman had met dragons before, though nothing

quite like this one, and while little could impress her, she
conceded to herself that this was indeed an impressive-looking
being. They had 'spoken' to each other using
magic arts, but this was their first true meeting in the
flesh. Despite attempts at keeping the identity of this
creature hidden over the last half century, legends of the
,great jeweled dragon' had already surfaced in various
parts of the Kingdom.
But the woman knew this was no true dragon, despite
being the get of dragons at birth. The spirit of the original
dragon had perished in the great battle that had climaxed
in this very hall almost fifty years before. Inhabiting the
vessel that had once known the mind of Ryath, daughter
of Rhuagh - perhaps the greatest of all golden dragons was
a consciousness alien and ancient: the Oracle of Aal.
A great rumbling voice issued from within the throat of

the creature. 'Greetings, Miranda. How fare you?'
The woman nodded as she said, 'I am well. The travel
from the statue at Malac's Cross is disorienting.'
'It was designed to be so. Only those with a certain gift
may trigger it, and I wish to ensure that whatever talents
they possess, they are vague about the true location of
this hall.'
Miranda nodded in agreement. 'Understood. How fare
YOU?'
'Time grows short. The heat tires me and I sleep more
each day. Soon I shall enter the birth sleep and then shall
I end this phase of existence.'
time grows short indeed. How much longer will we
have your guidance?'
'Already the future grows clouded and dim to me. My
daughter will not have the gift for the first twenty years
of her life, so soon, for five years of my birth sleep and
twenty years of my daughter's infancy, you will be as you
were before I came to this world. There is more.'
'What?'
'Much of what I should see I cannot, which means only
that my own future is involved; for to all creatures, even
me, knowledge of their own future is denied.'
The Oracle of Aal was considered the oldest being in the
universe, ancient when the Valheru rose to challenge the
gods during the Chaos Wars. Thinking of that, Miranda
turned to look at a dais behind the oracle. Willing a shift in
her perception, the woman saw the stone flick into
existence. A fey green in color, it pulsed with an inner
fight. She stared at its hypnotic rhythms for a moment,
then said, 'Are they stirring again?'
'They are always stirring,' said the oracle. 'Now they
move with more vigor. Somehow they still have influence
with those outside who are receptive to their call.'
'They' were the Valheru, the ancient beings known as
the Dragon Lords to most inhabitants of the world.
Trapped by forces even beyond their own ability to understand,
they were bound in the stone by a mysterious
agent. From the stone rose a golden sword with an ivory
pommel. The woman named meranda knew that a half
century before, a great battle had raged in the city above,
called Sethanon, and in this chamber a battle of equal
proportion took place. The strange half-man, half-Valheru
Tomas, inheritor of the mantle and power of
Ashen-Shugar, the Ruler of the Eagles' Reaches. battled a
creature of spirit in the form of his ancient kinsman
Draken-Koren, the Lord of Tigers. At that time, Pug of
Stardock, magician of two worlds, and Macros the Black,
sorcerer nonpareil, battled to hold closed a tear between
two universes, aided by two Tsurani Great Ones.
magicians from the world of Kelewan. And the dragon.
Ryath, battled a Dread Lord, a creature from an alien
space-time. whose very touch drained life.
in the end, the Valheru had been trapped within the
stone, the Dread Lord vanquished at the cost of Ryath's
life. and all the forces supporting the false prophet
Murmandamus vanquished. Not one soldier on either
side, in the Kingdom or serving the moredhel chieftain,
knew what the war had been about. No one among the
highest-ranking chieftains of the Nations of the North as
the dark elves and goblins were called - knew that
Murmandamus had been a Pantathian serpent priest
magically transformed to resemble their legendary
leader. Only the King's family and a few trusted friends

knew of the Lifestone and the presence of the Oracle.
And now the primary defender of the Lifestone, the
magic and physical entity of the oracle dragon, was
dying.
'How will this change take place?' asked Miranda.
The dragon lifted her head and nodded slightly to the
right, where six robed figures stood speaking softly to one
another. 'These, my husband servants, they are already
making their transformation.'
The figures removed their hoods and Miranda could
see faces that were little more than those of boys. The
dragon continued, 'When the heat began to rise, I made
the call, and youths from around the area, those with a
certain gift, answered. They wandered from their homes
and came to Malac's Cross, to where the statue stands,
and then I brought them here. Those that were lacking
the true gifts needed were sent away, and thought only
that they had been dreaming. Those who chose to stay
were allowed to test, and those who faded were also sent
away, with little memory of their time here. But these six
are the first of the youths who have proven worthy to
stand at my daughter's side.'
Six elderly men came to stand next to the six youths.
'These, who are their teachers, will join with me to create
that which will be my daughter, and when they are done,
these bodies will die. Then will the remaining spirit and
knowledge enter these six young men.'To another group
on the other side of the hall the dragon motioned, and
another six older men came forth. 'I hope more of the
young who have come to us prove worthy, for those who
have no successor when it comes time to die ... their
knowledge is lost forever.'
Miranda said, 'Only twelve of you?'
'Had Pug not fetched us from our dying world, there
would be none of us. And should a thirteenth worthy
child come to us before the birthing, he, too, can become
one with us. If a girl child comes, then another daughter,
to serve with the first daughter. We may yet grow in
number, we of the Aal.'
Miranda hid her impatience. She had other concerns at
present. 'Then you birth your daughter?'
'Then my spirit joins with the spirits of my husband
servants and we meld entirely, all memory and feeling, all
pain and joy, to one consciousness, and that is split again,
and those boys will be our sons, and my daughter shall be
formed.'
'The new Oracle?'
'She shall be.'
'And what body will she inhabit? I see no young girl
here.'
'This dragon's body is magic; it is strong beyond any that
the Oracle has used since our oldest memory. It shall be
used again.'
'So this is why you will not be with us for twenty-five
years?'
'Yes. She will be a child, even though she will have MY
powers eventually.'
Miranda sighed audibly. 'At least she'll be a large
enough girl to give anyone pause should they break
in.' For a moment she considered. 'Do you know where
Pug is?'
The Oracle closed her eyes and considered. 'He is absent
from his island. I sense him out there'- she made a vague
gesture with her head -'among the worlds.'
'Damn,' Miranda swore. 'I think we will need him here
before your daughter is strong enough to defend this hall.'
She considered something in silence a while. 'How long
before you enter the final heat?'
'We join in less than a year, Miranda. Then I shall be
gone, for with the re-forming, something is always lost.
This is why we, who were old when the stars were new,
why we remember little of our own beginning. But in that

rebirth, more strength and knowledge come, and she who
follows after me shall be eventually my equal, then at last
my better.'
Miranda muttered, 'If we live that long.'
'Dark tides are forming. They rise against distant shores
but shall reach even here, eventually.'
'I must be gone. There is little time and much to be done.
I fear a great many foolish choices have already been made
and that we depend too much on auguries and portents.'
'You chose a strange audience for that argument,'
answered the Oracle.
'That you've been useful is without question,' said the
young woman. 'But fate is not immutable, I believe. I
think one can seize destiny if one is but willing to make the
attempt.'
'So believe those who oppose you,'said the Oracle. 'This
is the root of the problem.'
'Those are deluded fanatics, who live in a mad dream
that has no basis in reality. They bring death and pain for
no cause whatsoever.'
'True, but they share your sense of self-determination.'
'On that note,' Miranda said dryly, 'I bid you farewell.
Are you sufficiently protected here?'
'Our arts are sufficient for all but the most powerful.'
'Then I shall be gone. Will we meet again?'
'I do not know,' said the Oracle. 'Too many possible
endings appear to my mind, and none clearly marked as
likely.'
-then fare you well on your journey to immortality
and pray that we lesser beings five long enough to greet
your daughter when she comes into her own.'
'You have my wishes for success,' said the dragon.
Then the young woman was gone, vanished from
before their eyes with little more than a gust of wind
filling the empty place where she had stood.
To the one most senior among her companions the
dragon said with a chuckle, 'She is much Eke her father,
don't you think? That touch of the cynical in her nature
could be the weak spot that undoes her. I hope fate is
kind to her.'
The seniormost companion said, 'Very much like her
father.'

Winds swept the figure atop the hill, blowing her cloak
and robes in billowing wings behind her. Smoke from
distant fires stung her eyes as she beheld the carnage
below. Riders were hunting down stragglers, raping
and killing for sport. Using her arts, she studied in
detail one scene after another. Men made like animals
in the fury of battle now visited pain and destruction
on helpless men, women, and children. She balled her
fists in rage, but stayed her hand. Those who commanded
the riders would descend upon her in an instant
if she revealed her presence magically. While fear was
not her companion, prudence was, and she understood
her worth lay in being able to accomplish many things
between now and the time of true battle. When that
issue was decided, the fate of a world and more would
hang in the balance, not the lives of these pitiful
wretches.
Even at this distance, the cries of pain carried on the
wind, and Miranda turned away from them as she
moved down the hillside. For the time being she willed
her heart to stone, for while she ached to help these few
survivors, she knew that far more critical issues demanded
her attention.
As she approached the scene of battle, she crouched
low. Ducking behind low rocks, she waited as a company
of drunken warriors wearing emerald armbands rode by,
a screaming woman held across the neck of one man's
horse. Miranda felt her face flush in rage. She willed
herself to calmness; losing her head now would help no

one.
Skirting the action, S
he came to a village in ruin. No
building had been left standing - a solitary wall here, a
charred doorframe there, but nothing that could be remotely
called shelter. Acrid smoke stung Miranda's eyes
as she searched for any signs of life.
Seeing none, she ventured deeper into the village, seeking
any information that would prove useful. In the distance,
she saw movement, and ducking behind a section
of wall, she waited. Another company of horsemen rode
by, less vigilant than they should have been, but not the
drunken roisterers she had seen earlier. These were seasoned
soldiers, Miranda calculated. These men were
not mere mercenaries but those posted to the central
companies of the invaders' forces. By being at this
location, she now had a fair estimate of the invaders' rate
Of march. Cursing quietly, for it was faster than she had
suspected, she moved away from the center of the village.
She could will herself away at any time, but she was
tired, and the effort to cloak her presence from her
enemies was taking its toll. A little undisturbed rest in a
quiet place would be needed for her to leave this area and
not let her enemy know she had observed.
Miranda ducked through a burned doorframe, between
two still-standing sections of wall, and even her
iron-willed composure cracked at the sight that greeted
her. Gasping, she had to put her hand out and grip the
doorjamb, for her knees went weak as the sight of dead
children greeted her. Tiny bodies charred to blackness
were piled in the center of the fire-gutted building.
Miranda felt a low animal growl of pain and wrath building
in her throat and bit it back as rage threatened to
overwhelm her composure. She knew well that should
any of the monsters who had visited this horror on the
children blunder within her sight, she would destroy him
without thought, without regard for the consequences to
her or her mission.
Forcing herself to calm, she took two deep breaths and
fought back tears of anguish. Babies with smashed heads
were placed upon older children with charred arrows still
protruding from them. At least, thought Miranda, the
children had been killed before the building had been set
alight. Bitterly she wondered if death from a blade or
arrow was, in truth, kinder than dying in flames. Bidding
peace to the souls of those tormented tiny bodies, she left
the building.
She picked her way amid the rubble to the outskirts of
the village farthest from where she had last seen the
raiders. She peered around the corner of what had once
been an inn and saw nothing. Dashing from the village
across a rivulet running down from the hills, she.made it
to a copse of trees. There she almost died.
The woman was terrified and so her knife slash went
wide, but Miranda still took a cut along her left forearm.
Biting back a cry of pain, Miranda reached out and
gripped the woman's wrist with her right hand. A quick
twist and the woman was forced to release the blade.
Hissing in pain and anger, Miranda said softly, 'Silence,
fool! I'll not hurt you.' Then she saw the two cowering
children behind the woman. 'Or your babies.' Her tone
softened a bit. She released the woman's wrist and inspected
the damage done to her arm. Miranda saw a
shallow wound, and she closed her right hand over it.
'Who are you?' said the woman.
'I am called Miranda.'
The woman's eyes welled with tears and she said,
'They ... they're killing the children.'
"Miranda closed her eyes a moment, then nodded.
Women the raiders could use awhile along the line of
march before they finally killed them, but children
would be useless. Slavers following the main army
might take them, but out here at the leading edge of
battle, all little ones could do was inform enemies of

what they had seen.
Gasping through the tears, the woman said, 'They
picked up the babies and swung them by the heels
Miranda said, 'Enough,' but her tone, while firm, was
also pained. 'Enough,' she repeated softly, ignoring the
wetness gathering in her own eyes. She had seen the
tiny crushed skulls. 'I know.'
Then she took account of who stood before her. The
woman's eyes were wide with terror, but would be
judged large under normal conditions. Her ears were
upswept beneath blond locks and possessed no lobes.
Miranda glanced down at the children: they were
twins. Miranda's own eyes widened in disbelief as she
asked, 'You are what they call "of the long-lived"?'
The woman nodded. 'We are.'
Miranda closed her eyes and shook her head. No
wonder the woman was nearly beside herself. Those
beings known through most of the world of men as
elves gave birth rarely, and children usually grew up to
adulthood decades apart from their siblings. Some elves
lived to see centuries pass, and the death of one child
was more terrible than humans could imagine, but
twins were almost unheard of among the eledhel, as
they called themselves. For these two little boys to be
lost would be a tragedy beyond human imagining for
an elf.
Miranda said, 'I know what's at risk.'
'The entire village was slaughtered,' said the woman.
'I took the boys into the woods to forage for food; we
were to leave tonight. We were going to seek out the
Jeshandi and ask for shelter there.' Miranda nodded.
The Jeshandi numbered a high percentage of the longlived
among them and would likely have taken in this
woman and her children. 'We didn't think the raiders
would be here for another few days.' Her eyes filled again
and she said, 'My man . .
Miranda removed her hand from the cut on her arm
and inspected it. The cut had ceased bleeding and now a
pink scar was the only sign of damage. She said, 'If he
was in the village he is dead. I'm sorry.' She knew how
hollow that sounded.
Suddenly the elven woman regained her composure,
and she said, -then I must protect the children alone.'
'Damn,' said NUranda. 'If we can get clear of this
murderous mob, I may be able to help.' She glanced
down at the two boys and saw enormous eyes staring
up at her from tiny faces. No older than four or five
years of age, they would be counted children for nearly
another three decades by their race, and would not be
considered mature for a century. But by either standard,
human or elven, they were beautiful children. Sighing
in resignation, Miranda said, 'I will save your children.'
'How?'
'Come with me and be silent.'
Miranda moved away. The woman and the two boys
followed, and while Miranda could have wished they had
the legendary wood skills lore gave to their race - these
three were villagers and were not adept at moving
through the heavy undergrowth - at least these three
were far quieter than a like trio of humans would have
been.
Wending their way up the path from the village, that
they must have used to enter the forest, Miranda led the
fugitives. After nearly an hour, Miranda said, 'Is there
any place near here where I might rest?'
The woman said, 'There is a small clearing ahead, and
on the other side the entrance to a cave.'
Miranda nodded and returned her attention ahead.
The raiders might be combing the area for survivors or
they might be enjoying the fruits of their looting. Small
villages like this yielded little by way of valuables, and if

there were few women of suitable age for the men's
amusement, the captains might have sent men out on
patrol simply to avoid conflicts over who could be among
the first to rape the women.
The elven woman tried to lead onward the two silent
boys, and after a moment, Miranda picked up one of
the two. The woman nodded and picked up the other
and they carried them. Miranda knew that any child
frightened enough will go silent, instead of crying, and
these babies were severely frightened. Without conscious
thought, she kissed the child on the temple and stroked
his hair before starting to walk.
Making their way through the trees, they stopped once
at the sound of.distant horses and waited. When the
sound receded, they continued. Reaching a heavy
growth, they moved through the underbrush to a clearing,
on the other side of which stood a cave. 'It's safe
here,' said the woman.
Miranda put down the child and said, 'Wait.' She advanced
into the darkness, using her magic arts to see in
the gloom. The cave was indeed empty, and showed
enough signs of human use that it was unlikely any
animal would attempt to use it as a den. She went back
outside and said, 'Come -'
Before she could finish, a man crashed through the
brush, shouting, 'I told you I saw tracks,'
Pulling a long knife from his belt, he said, 'A couple of
brats! But the women are young,'
Another man answered from behind, but whatever he
said was lost as Miranda shouted, 'Get inside!'
The woman grabbed her two children, each by one
arm, and hurried inside the cave. Miranda pulled a long
dagger out of her belt and waited. Another man followed
the first into the clearing.
Both looked like common mercenaries. The first wore
a ragged tabard over rusty ring mail, the design faded and
unknown to Miranda. The second was a tall man, wearing
a heavy gambeson cut off at the shoulders, for it was
obviously a size too small and would have confined his
ability to fight otherwise.
Miranda waited as the two advanced. 'What are you
going to do with that?' snarled the second man, pointing
at the dagger. He glanced at his companion.
'Put that away, girl,' said the first with a nervous smile.
'We'll treat you good if you don't cause problems. Give
us trouble and we'll make it rough for you.'
Miranda waited, and when the first man stepped close
enough to attempt to reach for her, she took a quick step
forward, faster than either man expected, and stuck the
dagger into his throat.
She wrenched the dagger out as the second man
jumped back in shock and the first died, his life gurgling
out of his gashed throat. 'Hey!' cried the second man, his
quick moves marking him a dangerous foe, no matter his
ragged attire. His sword hissed from its scabbard and he
was ready for any attack before she could close, so she
moved back.
A distant clatter of hooves, and the man shouted,
'Here! Over here!'
Miranda cursed as answering calls rang through the
air. While he warily observed her, she feigned an attack.
His sword lashed out and he briefly exposed his arm to
her. She flicked out with her blade, but it slid off the ring
mail protecting his shoulder.
He laughed as he unleashed a powerful backhanded
blow designed to remove her head from her shoulders, but
she merely squatted. As the blade cleaved air, she thrust
upward with her dagger, taking him in his unprotected

groin.
A shriek of pain and he doubled up as Miranda yanked
free her blade. A cascade of crimson told her she had
reached the artery deep in the groin and the mercenary
was doomed to death in moments.
The sound of approaching hooves signaled that
Miranda also had but a few minutes to live if she did not
act quickly. Hurrying into the cave, she knelt before the
elven woman. 'What is your name?'
The woman, crouching before the two boys, replied,
'Ellia.'
'I can save you and the children, but I cannot take you to
the Jeshandi. Will you come away with me?'
Hearing the riders entering the glade, she said, 'What
choice have I?'
'None,' said Miranda. She leaned across Ellia, as if
embracing her, and put her hands upon the boys' heads,
then suddenly everything around them spun into
darkness.
A moment later, the air shifted, and it was warm night.
The woman gasped, and said, 'What ... ?'
Miranda fell backwards awkwardly and sat hard upon
damp soil. 'We are she began, and it was clear she was
disoriented.
Ellia glanced around as Miranda fought the confusion of
the transition. They were in a large clearing surrounded by
thick forest, with a broad stream or small river hurrying
through it. The merry sound of water splashing over rocks
was a startling alternative to the sound of men dying.
Ellia stood and took a step to Miranda's side, bending to
help her to her feet. The dark-haired woman shook her
head to clear it.
A sizzling sound in the distance caught their attention,
and both looked for its source. A faint glow of green
appeared in the night sky; then it turned into a point of
light.
'Quickly, into the water!' commanded Miranda, and
without hesitation, Ellia turned and scooped up her two
children, carrying one under each arm. The river was
shallow but running rapidly, and the elven woman had
to struggle to keep her feet on the slippery rocks. 'Don't
look back!' shouted Miranda, and Ellia obeyed silently as
she waded hip-deep in the stream. The two boys clung
tightly to their mother, remaining silent despite the
sudden darkness and the cold of the river.
The searing sound grew louder and soon the boys had
their faces buried against their mother's bosom, as if in
refuge against the harsh sound. Ellia thought her ears
would begin to bleed, and the children finally could
endure it no longer and began to wail.
A shattering explosion hurled Ellia forward, and for a
panic-stricken moment she thought she would lose the
children. Water closed over their heads, but she rolled to
her backside and forced herself to her knees, holding her
children close the entire time. The boys sputtered and
coughed as their heads came out of the icy water, but
neither had let go.
The stumble and fall had turned Ellia around and she
couldn't help but look where Miranda stood. A brilliant
orange light fired down from the heavens, a long line of
energy that engulfed the young woman. Miranda raised
her arms as if warding off the harsh energies. A sudden
blast of hot air struck at Ellia, hot enough to dry much of
her head and shoulders above water. Miranda moved her
hands suddenly, and a latticework of purple-tinged white
energy appeared and began to spread along the column
of orange light, racing back toward its source. As it passed
up the length of orange energy, it burned brilliant white,
too brilliant to watch. Ellia turned as rapidly as she could
in the water, shielding the boys as much as possible from
the heat.
Wading forward, she reached the far bank and half
lifted, half pushed the boys up onto the grass. Then she
struggled to get herself out of the waist-deep water.
Suddenly strong hands reached down and lifted her
easily out of the river.
Three men in green leather watched the fierce display
across the water. One leaned upon a longbow and spoke

to Ellia in a language alien to her. She placed reassuring
hands upon her boys' shoulders and said, 'I don't understand.'

The man glanced at the other two and raised an
eyebrow in surprise, then looked back at Ellia. 'You speak
Keshian, but not your own tongue?'
His accent sounded odd to Ellia, but she could understand
him. 'I speak the language taught to me by my
parents.'
The harsh light suddenly vanished, leaving the clearing
suddenly inky in contrast. Miranda swayed in the
darkness, as if drunk, then she steadied herself and
turned. Across the river, she saw Elba and the boys
standing with three elven warriors. 'May I enter?' she
called weakly in the King's tongue.
'Who seeks Elvandar?' answered one of the warriors.
'One in need of counsel with Lord Tomas.'
'Cross if you are able.'
Dryly Miranda said, 'I think I can manage.'
She waded to the far side and the elven woman said,
'What magic is this?'
'These are your people, Ellia. These are the eledhel,
and this is the boundary of Elvandar.'
'Elvandar?' She looked confused. 'That is a legend, a
tale told by old ones to children.'
The leader of the three warriors said, 'I judge there are
many questions to be answered, but this is not the place,
nor is it the time. Come, we have two days of travel to
reach the Queen's court.'
'The little ones are tired,' said Miranda, 'and they are
frightened.'
The elf looked down and saw the boys. His eyes widened
slightly, a gesture that would have been lost on most
humans, though Miranda marked his surprise. 'Twins?'
Ellia looked at Miranda, who answered, 'They are.'
Another elf warrior said, 'I shall go now and carry word
to the court.' He turned and vanished into the woods.
The first elf made a gesture and the remaining elf
nodded once and followed after his companion. To
Miranda the first said, 'I am called Galain. My companions
are Althal, who is returning to our campsite to prepare
food for you, and the other is Lalial, who will take word to
the Queen and her consort.'
He shouldered his bow, then, without asking leave,
knelt and picked up the two boys as easily as he might
have picked up two kittens. The boys looked at their
mother, but neither child voiced protest. Miranda touched
Ellia's shoulder, then motioned with her head that they
should follow their guide.
Miranda used her natural sight to keep the others in
view. Her arts were depleted by the battle on the riverbank.
It had been a short struggle, but no less vicious for
its brevity. Through her exhaustion, Miranda felt the
satisfaction of knowing that on the other side of the world
the Pantathian magician who had thrown that tracking
energy after her had not expected her counterspell. With
grim pleasure, she knew he was now a smoldering corpse.

They reached camp without having spoken a word. The
fire was burning brightly as Althal placed more wood on it,
and rich smells of smoke and crisping game reached
Miranda's nose.
The boys were now asleep and Galain gently set them
down upon the ground. Softly he said, 'It will be light in a
few hours. They can eat when they awake.'
The elven woman sat heavily upon the ground, and
"Miranda knew she was exhausted, emotionally as well as
physically. Her home had been destroyed and certainly
her husband was dead, and suddenly she was in a strange
place with people she didn't know, without even the
most basic personal possessions to call her own. In the
language of her homeland, she said, 'Who are you?'

Switching into Yabonese, the language of the neighboring
Kingdom province, and related to the ancient
language of Kesh, the common ancestor of the language
spoken by Ellia, Galain said, 'I am named Galain. We
are of the eledhel - as are you.'
'I do not know this word eledhel,' said Ellia, outwardly
calm, though Miranda knew she must be terribly
frightened.
'It means "the light people," in our own language.
There is much you will need to know. But to begin, ages
ago our race was divided into four tribes, for want of a
better term. Those who are eldest among us, the eldar,
are the keepers of wisdom. Those who live here in
Elvandar and serve Queen Aglaranna are called eledhel.
There are others: glamredhel, the wild ones, and moredhel,
the dark ones. Some years ago we learned of your people,
whom we call ocedhel, "people from across the sea." We
are not sure if you are properly glamredhel or eledhel
who have lost knowledge of their own race. But either
way, you are welcome to Elvandar. We live here.' He
smiled. 'We are like you. Here you will be safe.'
Ellia looked pointedly at his face, studying his eyes. As
if reading her thoughts, he pushed back his long hair to
show her the upswept, lobeless ears that marked
elvenkind. She sighed in relief. 'Safe . . .' she repeated.
Her tone showed she scarcely believed.
Miranda said, 'You will learn that you are as safe here
as anyplace on this world.'
Ellia nodded, hugging her knees to her chin as she
closed her eyes. After a moment, a tear appeared upon
her cheek and she sighed.
Galain left her to her memories, and spoke to Miranda.
'You make an impressive entrance.'
Spitting the word, Miranda said, 'Snakes.'
Galain's eyes narrowed. 'The serpent men?'
Miranda nodded.
Galain said, 'We will leave as soon as the boys awake
and eat. Sleep now if you can.'
Miranda didn't need convincing. She lay upon the
damp ground where she sat, and within moments was
fast asleep.

The boys rode upon the shoulders of Galain and Althal,
while Ellia and NUranda hurried along. Miranda knew
they were not moving as quickly as they would have
been able to unburdened, but she had to struggle to keep
pace. Only Ellia's awkwardness gave her some small
comfort, for it was a lifetime living in the woodlands that
gave these elves their surefooted passage in the undergrowth,
not their race.
The boys had awakened and eaten, and without discussion
the party had left the campsite near the river.
They had moved for the better part of the day, and had
paused only long enough to cat some dried meat and
fruit at midday. Then they had moved steadily through
the trees until an hour before dusk.
Galain had gone hunting while Althal made a fire.
Within the hour, Galain had returned with a brace of
rabbits. While not sumptuous fare for four adults and two
children, there was enough so that no one slept with
hunger pangs.
Morning came too quickly for exhausted children and
two tired women, but they were again on the trail as the
sun rose in the east. By noon they encountered a patrol
of hunters who quickly exchanged information with
Galain and Althal. The conversation was lost upon Ellia,
who was ignorant of the subtleties of eleven communications,
and Miranda missed a great deal.
Near midafternoon, they came to an enormous clearing.
Ellia stumbled, her mouth opening in awe, and even

Miranda was impressed.
Across the clearing rose a mighty city of trees. Boles to
dwarf the mightiest oak rose high above them, blotting
out the sky. A canopy of leaves formed a massive roof
above the trunks that stretched away beyond sight. Dark
green, the awning of treetops was punctuated by an
occasional tree of a different color, some golden, others
white, a few sparkling with emerald or azure lights. A
soft glow seemed to tease the limits of vision, as if a magic
haze enveloped the entire area.
Galain said, 'Elvandar.'
They crossed the clearing, and as they approached the
nearest trees, Miranda could see figures moving. Workmen
labored, curing hides, fashioning weapons in forges,
and carving wooden implements. Others fletched arrows,
worked stones, or prepared food. But the common
nature of these tasks took nothing from the impact of the
city itself; Elvandar was perhaps the most magical place
upon the world. Soothing sounds, rather than the loud
noise of workers, filled the air, and voices were musical
rather than harsh.
Reaching a giant tree, Miranda saw stairs had been cut
from the living wood of the huge trunk.
'If you have a fear of heights, say now, Miranda.'
Miranda came out of her revery and saw Galain studying
her and Ellia. She said nothing, shaking her head, and
Galain led them upward.
As they climbed, Miranda saw that some of the larger
branches were flat on top, forming narrow roadways
upon which elves walked, moving from tree to tree.
Many of the trees were hollow, and what seemed to be
small dwellings were fashioned inside.
The elves who passed smiled in greeting, and several
were openly delighted upon seeing the twin boys. Most
wore leather, brown or green in color, but others wore
soft robes, decorated with gems or beads. All were uniformly
tall; some were fair, but others were as dark of
hair as was Miranda.
A few wore furs and carried weapons, with metalstudded
armbands and necklaces of gold set with
precious stones. These looked openly at the women in
curiosity, and their expressions were less friendly when
turned upon Galain.
As they passed, Althal spoke. 'The glamredhel are still
not completely at ease here. But then they've been with
us but a short time.'
'How long?' asked Miranda.
'Those two who passed, not yet thirty years.'
Miranda had to suppress a laugh. 'Barely a long visit.'
Galain turned and smiled, showing he understood her
humor. She wasn't sure if Althal shared his understanding.

To the back of a large branch a platform was anchored,
and from it rose a stairway of wood and rope. Mounting
it, the two elves escorted Miranda and Ellia to another,
larger platform, and along a broad thoroughfare. This led
to a maze of platforms, small markets, and meeting areas,
and at last they reached a gigantic platform, dominating
the very heart of Elvandar.
Entering, Galain led them to the center, where he
faced two figures sitting upon a dais. He and Althal gently
put the boys down and bowed. 'My Queen,' Galain said,
'and Tomas.'                   
The woman was impressive, a regal-looking elf with
golden-red hair and eyes the color of ice-blue glaciers.
Hundreds of years old, she looked much as a human
would in the prime of youth, her face unlined and her
body still straight and limber. Her features were chiseled
and delicate, but there was strength in her bearing.
The man at her side was even more striking, for he was
not quite human or elven in appearance. Six inches over
six feet in height, he was broad of shoulder and deep in
the chest without looking bulky. His eyes were an even
paler blue than his companion's, and his hair was sun

streaked yellow. His features were human: even brow
with straight nose, full but not soft mouth. Yet somehow
an agency had molded those features, casting an alien
image over them. He was too regal to be handsome, yet
when he smiled, a boy's charm appeared.
The woman rose and Miranda bowed, and Ellia looked
confused. At last she curtsied clumsily, while the boys
dung to her.
Ignoring formalities, the Elf Queen came up to Ellia
and gently took her in her arms and embraced her. Then
she knelt before the boys and touched each upon the
cheek. She said something softly, and Ellia said, 'I don't
understand.'
Galain said, 'Our Queen speaks to your companion.'
In the Keshian dialect most like Ellia's, Aglaranna said,
'I said, "You bring us treasure." Your sons are beautiful.
We are so much the richer for their joining us.'
Ellia's eyes welled with tears as she said, 'They look
like their father.'
Tomas rose, and as he crossed to stand before Ellia, he
said, 'It is not the way of my wife's people to speak the
name of those who have traveled to the Blessed Isles. in
his sons he lives on. You are more than welcome here.'
To Althal he said, 'Take these newly come to us and find
them a home. See to their needs.' Then he addressed
Ellia. 'You are safe here, and under my protection. No
harm will come to you or your sons in Elvandar. At first
our ways will seem strange to you, but you will come to
know that they are your ways, truly, and that your
fathers' fathers had been apart from us too long.
welcome to your true home.'
Weak with relief, Ellia allowed herself to be led away,
one child holding fast to each of her hands. When they
had left, Tomas said, 'And who are you?'
'A friend of your son's,' answered Miranda.
Galain leaned upon his bow and said, 'I thought your
name familiar.'
Tomas's expression remained neutral. He motioned for
Miranda to come away from the dais and led her over to
a table, where several elves had placed refreshments.
Motioning for a few members of the Queen's court to
attend, he said, 'How is Calis?'
'Disturbed,'. answered Miranda. 'Has he told you his
mad plan?'
By the fearful expression on Aglaranna's face, she-could
see he had. Tomas nodded.
'Well, for better or worse, I'm helping him.' Then she
shook her head. 'Though how much good I'm doing
is.. .' She picked up a pear and bit into it, chewed, and
swallowed. 'Now, the snakes know someone with some
talent was snooping around their army.' She explained
what had happened: her scouting the advancing army
across the sea, the encounter with Ellia and the boys, her
escape, and the final attack at the bank of the river.
After she was finished, Aglaranna said, 'It was unlikely
they'd think their mad campaign would escape the notice
of those with power for long. It may be they think you
one of any number of magicians or priests.'
Miranda nodded. 'And they have no way of knowing
where I am. The one who found me is in no condition to
tell them. The others might suspect I'm here, but they
won't attempt to breech your defenses ... yet.'
Tomas said, 'We can speak more of these matters in the
morning. You should rest. Night is almost upon us and
you look fatigued.'
'oh, that's what I am,' agreed Miranda, 'but by morning
I plan on being a great distance from here. There is
much to be done and little time in which to do it. I must
seek out your son and confer with him, and next convince 
some otherwise reasonable men to agree to a most
foolish and dangerous undertaking. Then I can be about
other business. I hadn't planned on coming here straight
away, but now that I'm here, can you tell me something?'
'
What?'
'Where I can find Pug?'
Tomas glanced at his wife and said, 'We've not seen
him for years. The last message I had from him was seven
years ago. He said he was concerned over the reports my
son brought back from his last voyage to Novindus. He
had consulted with the Oracle of Aal, and . .
'And what?' prodded Miranda.
Tomas's blue eyes regarded Miranda for a moment, as
if measuring her. He said at last, 'He said he feared that
his own powers would be lacking in the coming battle
and he needed to seek allies.'
Miranda smiled and there was nothing of humor in
that smile. 'His powers were lacking.' She shook her
head. 'Who else on this world matches him in power,
save you?'
'Even my powers pale compared to what Pug can do if
need be,' answered Tomas. 'My arts are set by my heritage,
and are as they were at the end of the Riftwar, fifty
years ago. But Pug, he studies and learns and masters
new things yearly, and it may be no one since Macros the
Black can approach his might.'
At the mention of Macros, Miranda made a sour
expression. 'Much of what is alleged about his prowess
was based upon his listeners being gullible, by all reports.'
Tomas shook his head. 'I have been places you could
only imagine, woman. And I stood at Macros's side in the
Garden of the City Forever, and I saw the creation of this
universe. He may have been a man given to overboasting
at times, but not by any great margin, I will avow. His
powers approached the gods', and his skills would be
welcome in the coming fray.'
Miranda said, 'Still, by all reports the Black Sorcerer is
fifty years vanished from his realm. So then, whom could
Pug be seeking?'
Aglaranna said, 'Find the where, and that may tell you
who.'
Tomas said, 'If he is not upon this world, then I suspect
you must go to other worlds. Have you the arts?'
Miranda said, 'If I don't, I can find those to help me
who do. But where to begin the search?' She looked at
Tomas. 'Reputedly, you and Pug were as brothers. You
would know where to begin the search.'
Tomas said, 'I can think of only one place, but it is
much as if I said search the sea for a particular fish. For
the place to begin searching is as vast as any place in all
the myriad possible universes.'
Miranda nodded, saying, 'The Hall of Worlds.'
Tomas nodded, too. 'The Hall of Worlds.'

SEVEN

Trial

Roo stirred.
He felt a hand on his leg, and in his sleepy state he
brushed at it weakly. He felt it clamp down and suddenly
he was wide awake.
An ugly face loomed over his, leering and grinning.
'You're an ugly sod, boy, but you're young.' it was the
nervous man with affected speech of the day before who
was now fondling Roo's leg.
'Ah,' shouted Roo. 'Keep away from me!'
The man laughed. 'Just having a joke, me lad.' He
shivered. 'Damn cell will give a man his death. Now shut
up and go back to sleep, and we can both get warm.' The
man turned over, back to back with Roo, and closed his

eyes.
The brute called Biggo, who had regained consciousness
an hour after being tossed into the cell, said, 'Don't

terrorize the lad, Slippery Tom. This is the death room.
He's too much on his mind to be thinkin' of romance.'
His speech had the lilt of Komachmen of Deep Taunton,
rarely heard in the West.
Slippery Tom, ignoring the jape and the accompanying
laughter, said, 'It's a cold morning, Biggo.'
Seeing Erik now awake, Biggo said, 'He's not a bad sort
for a liar and murderer, is Slippery Tom; he's just scared.'
Roo's eyes widened. 'Who isn't?' he said with a frantic
note in his voice. He closed his eyes tight, as if to shut out
everything by force of will.
Erik sat back against the unyielding stone wall. He
knew Roo had spent a fitful night, awakening several
times shouting in his sleep as he wrestled with personal
demons. Erik glanced around the cell. other men slept or
sat quietly in their place as the night wore on. Erik - knew
that the bravado Roo had exhibited since awakening in
the cell the day before had been some sort of madness: he
couldn't accept the inevitability of his own death.
Biggo said, 'Spanking young bottoms is common
enough in the prison gangs, but Slippery is just looking
for someone warm to cozy up to, lad.'
Roo opened his eyes. 'Well, he smells like something
died in his shirt last week.'
Tom said, 'And you don't exactly remind me of
flowers, youngster. Now shut up and go back to sleep.'
Biggo grinned, and his bearlike face looked nothing so
much as that of an overgrown child, one with broken
and crooked teeth. The beating administered by the
guards the day before had done nothing to enhance his
appearance; blue, purple, and red lumps decorated his
visage. 'I like to sleep cuddled with someone warm. Like
me Elsmie. She was sweet.' He sighed as he closed his
eyes. 'Too bad I'll never see her again.'
'You talk like we're all going to be convicted,' said Roo.
'This is the death cell, me lad. You're here because
you're going to be tried for your life, and not one in a
hundred who has sat here lived two days past his trial.
You think you got a way to beat the King's justice, boyo?'
asked Biggo with a laugh. 'Well, good on you if you do.
But none here are babes, and we all knew what the deal
was when we took to the dodgy path: "get caught, take
your punishment.- That's the way of it, for a fact.' He
closed his eyes, leaving the two young men to their own
thoughts.
Erik had been awake most of the night, failing asleep
only a few hours before, wrestling with the same
questions. He had never been a religious sort, going to
temple on the festival days, joining the vineyard workers
in the blessing of the vineyards every year. But he hadn't
given much thought to what it would be like to face
Lims-Kragma in her hall. He vaguely knew that every
man came to stand before her, to account for his deeds,
but he always thought of that as some sort of priest talk,
what Owen Greylock had called a 'metaphor' where one
thing said stood for another. Now he wondered: Would

he simply end? When the box was kicked out from under
his feet and the rope either snapped his neck or choked
the life from him, would it turn all dark and meaningless?
Or would he awake in the Hall of the Dead,
as the priests claimed, joining the long line of those
waiting for Lims-Kragma's judgment? Those found
worthy were sent on to a better life, they said, while
those found wanting were sent back to learn those
lessons that had eluded them while living. There was talk
that at some point those who lived pure lives of harmony
and grace were elevated somehow, beyond human
understanding, to a higher existence.
Erik turned his mind away from the question, again;
there was no answer he- knew, until he actually faced
death. Either way, he thought with a silent shrug, it'll be
something interesting or I'll not mind. He closed his eyes
on this thought, finding it strangely comforting.

The door at the far end of the hall clanked open, iron
bands striking cold stone. Two guards with drawn swords
led a prisoner into the hallway. Another two guards
walked before and after him, holding wooden poles
looped through iron rings on a wooden yoke set around
his neck. The pressure on the yoke kept the man from
being able to reach either guard, and the awkward procession
made its way to the door of the death cell.
The prisoner was otherwise undistinguished. He
seemed a young man, little older than Erik or Roo,
though this was hard to determine, as his race was alien
to the two young men from Ravensburg. He was one of
the yellow-skinned men from Kesh, from a province
called Isalani. A few had passed through Ravensburg
from time to time, but they were still the object of interest
to the provincial residence of that town.
This man was plainly dressed, in a simple robe, with an
empty, carry-cloth - a large cloth used to carry belongings,
in place of a backpack - hung around his neck.
His feet were bare, and his head was uncovered, showing
a thatch of thick black hair roughly cut above the ears,
but falling long in back. Black eyes regarded the unfolding
events without expression.
When the door was reached, the first guard unlocked it
and ordered the prisoners to move to the far end of the
long cell. once they had obliged him, he opened the door
and the two men with the poles steered the prisoner to
the opening. With practiced dexterity, the lead guard
unfastened the neck yoke and the two guards slipped the
poles out. The collar was removed, and with unnecessary
force the remaining guard put his boot to the prisoner's
back and shoved him into the cell.
The prisoner stumbled one step, but caught himself
and stood motionless. The others looked on in curiosity.
'What was that all about?' asked one man.
The new prisoner shrugged. 'I disarmed a few of their
guards when they tried to arrest me. They objected to
that.'
'You disarmed them?' said another prisoner. 'How did
you do that?' .
The young man sat down on the vacant stone bench. 'I
took their weapons from them. How else would you
imagine I did it?'
A few of the prisoners asked the newcomer his name,
but no conversation was forthcoming, as the new prisoner
closed his eyes while remaining seated upright. He
crossed his legs before him, each foot resting upon the
opposite thigh, and put his hands, palms upward, on his
knees.
The other prisoners looked at him for a few minutes,
then returned to sitting and waiting for whatever fate
would bring them next.
- An hour later the hall door opened again and a company
of soldiers entered. The man Erik had met before,
Lord James, walked in. Then the men in the cell began
to mutter as a woman entered, followed in turn by a

pair of guardsmen. The woman was old, or at least she
appeared that way to Erik. Older than his mother, at
any rate. Her hair was a startling white and her brows
were pale enough for him to think her hair had always
been this color. The lines in her face notwithstanding,
Erik thought she was nice to look at, and she must have
been beautiful when young. Her eyes were an odd blue,
almost violet in the darkness of the cell, and she carried
herself with the bearing of nobility, despite an expression
of sadness on her face.
Erik wondered what could be the cause of this
expression of regret: could she have some sort of feeling
about the men who would be tried in the Prince's
chamber this day? She stopped before the bars, and the
sullen prisoners were completely silent. For some
reason, Erik found himself standing, feeling the urge to
touch his forelock, as he would to any lady of quality
who passed on the road in her carriage. Roo followed
his example and soon the other men were standing as
well.
The woman ignored the filth and wretched stench of
the cell as her hands closed upon the bars. She was
silent while her eyes searched out every face, and when
her gaze at last turned upon Erik, he found himself
suddenly afraid. He thought of his mother and Rosalyn,
and thinking of Rosalyn made him think of Stefan, and
suddenly he was ashamed of himself. He couldn't look
at the lady any longer and lowered his eyes.
For long minutes the woman stood silently, her rich
gown becoming dirtied by contact with the rusty iron of
the bars as she leaned against them. Erik glanced up and
found that as she looked from man to man, only the
new prisoner could return her gaze, and at one point he
even smiled slightly. But for several of the men her
penetrating gaze was too much, and they began to
weep. Then at last her own eyes began to fill with tears
and she said, 'Enough.'
Lord James nodded curtly once and motioned for the
two guards to escort her out of the cell. When they were
gone, he said, 'You men will face trial this afternoon.
Kingdom justice is swift; those of you found guilty of
capital crimes will be brought back to this cell and in the
morning we will hang you. You'll be given one last meal
and time to make your peace with the gods. Priests of
the twelve orders will come for those who ask for shriving,
and for the rest of you who don't wish to speak
with a priest, well, you can spend time contemplating
your sins. If you have an advocate, he will be allowed to
speak for you before Prince Nicholas; if you don't, you
must speak for yourself or the Crown will convict you
by default. There is no appeal, so make your brief
persuasive. The King is the only man who can overrule
the Prince, and he's busy.'
Without another word, the Duke of Krondor turned
and left the cell block. A guard waiting in the connecting
hall reached in and pulled the door shut behind
him.
The men stood silently for a long minute, then one,
the man called Slippery Tom, said, 'Something about
that witch gave me a chill.'
'It was like having me mum finding me with my
brother's sweets on festival day,' said another.
Slowly they sat, and when every man was back in his
place, Roo turned to Erik and asked, 'What was that all
about?'
Erik shrugged. 'You know as much as I do.'
'She read your minds,' said the newcomer as he returned
to his contemplative pose.
'What?' came from several of the men. 'She read our
minds?'
Without opening his eyes, but with a very faint smile,
the newcomer said, 'She was looking for some men.'Then

suddenly his eyes opened and he glanced from face to face.
'I think she may have found them.'
His eyes lingered on Erik and he said, 'Yes, I think she
has.'

The midday meal was plain but filling. The guards brought
in a platter of bread loaves and a round of hard cheese, as
well as a bucket of a vegetable stew. No knives, forks, or
other potential weapons were permitted, but dull-edged
wooden bowls were provided for the stew. Finding himself
suddenly hungry, Erik shouldered through the press
at the bars as the guards handed out the food.
'Here, now!' shouted a guard. 'There's enough for all of
you, though why you'd have any appetite when you're
going to hang tomorrow is beyond me.'
Erik took a bowl and grabbed a loaf of bread, broke off a
hunk of cheese, and returned to where Roo sat. 'Aren't
you going to eat anything?'
Roo said, 'If the guard's not lying, there will be more
when I get to the bars.' He rose slowly and moved to where
the press of prisoners was lessening, then took his bowl
and held it close to the bars as the guard filled it with a
metal ladle. Then a loaf of bread and some cheese was
given to him, and he returned to Erik's side.
One of the prisoners said, 'The food's better here than at
me mum's!'
That brought a weak laugh from two of the men, but
the rest ate in silence.

Shortly after the meal, the guards came to escort the
prisoners to the Prince's court. Each man's leg irons and
shackles, wrist irons and collars, and all the chains were
inspected. The newest prisoner, the Isalani, stood silently
as the wooden collar was presented to him. He said, 'I
will cause you no difficulty.' Then with an enigmatic
smile he said, 'I am interested in what is about to occur.'
The guard sergeant seemed to think about it, but the
man walked quietly out of the cell and stood in place
behind the man who had been led out before him. The
guard sergeant made a curt nod, indicating it was all
right, and the other prisoners were put in the line.
'All right, any of you makes a break, we shoot you
down and that's the end of it. So if you prefer a crossbow
bolt to the rope, now's your chance. But be warned, if
the bolt doesn't kill you outright, it's a messy, pitiful way
to go. Saw a man with his lung punched out of him; that
was a sight. Now, move the prisoners along!' The company
of crossbowmen lined the hallway where they
marched, and the prisoners, now numbering twelve,
were led through the palace, up to the Prince's hall.
Dirty, poor, and miserable, these men were ushered
into the presence of the second most powerful man in the
Kingdom, Nicholas, Prince of the Western Realm of
the Kingdom of the Isles, brother to King Borric, Heir
Apparent to the Crown. The Prince was a man of forty-some
years of age, and his dark hair was still almost
entirely without grey. His eyes were dark brown and
deeply shadowed; the stress of burying his father was obvious,
etching deep lines on his face.
He wore mourning black, and his only badge of office
was his royal ring. He sat in the large chair at the end of
the hall, raised upon a dais. The chair next to his, used by
his mother when his father ruled only days before, was
empty. The Dowager Princess Anita was in seclusion in
her quarters.
Standing beside the throne was the Duke of Krondor,
Lord James, and beside him, the mysterious lady who the
Isalani said read minds.
The prisoners were ushered into the Prince's presence
and the guard sergeant had to order them to bow. The
men made an awkward attempt, and at last the court was
called to order.

Several onlookers lined the sides of the halls, and Erik
noticed Sebastian Lender among them. That made him
feel slightly better than he had in days.
The first prisoner was called before the Prince, a man
named Thomas Reed, and to Erik's surprise, the man
called Slippery Tom moved before Nicholas.
Nicholas looked down on Slippery Tom. 'What are the
charges, James?'
The Duke of Krondor nodded to a scribe, who said,
'Thomas Reed stands accused of theft and aiding and
abetting in the murder of the victim, a spice merchant
named John Corwin, late of Krondor.'
'How do you plead?' asked James.
Slippery Tom glanced around the room and t Led 'to
ri
present as pleasant an expression as possible to Nicholas.
'You Majesty --! he began.
'"Highness,"' interrupted James. 'Not "You Majesty,'
"Your Highness."'
Grinning as if this social gaffe were his worst offense,
he said, 'You Highness, it were this way -'
James interrupted, 'How do you plead?'
Suddenly angry eyes regarded the Duke as he said,
'I was attemptin' to explain this to His Highness,
sir.'
'Plead first, then explain,' said Prince Nicholas.
Tom seemed to think of his options a moment. 'Well,
strictly speaking, I guess I would have to say I was guilty,
but only in a sense of it.'
'Enter the plea,' said James. 'Do you have anyone to
speak on your behalf'
'Just Biggo,' said Tom.
'Biggo?' said Nicholas.
James said, 'The next defendant.'
'Oh, well, then tell me your story.'
Tom began to spin an improbable tale of two poor
workmen attempting to do the right thing in a bargain
gone sour with a spice merchant of dubious character
who cheated the two basically honest workers. When
confronted with his perfidious acts, the spice merchant
had pulled a knife and in the ensuing struggle had fallen
on his own blade. The two wronged men, regretting the
malefactor's death, had taken his gold only in the
amount they were owed, which happened to be all he
was carrying. 'And that's not all he owed us,' said Tom.
Nicholas looked at James. 'Corwin?'
'Honest, for the most part,' said James. 'What I could
find out tells me he occasionally received some Keshian
spices without benefit of duty, but that's not unusual.'
Nicholas said, 'Why did John Corwin owe you
money?'
With a feral light in his eyes, Tom said, 'Well, truth to
tell, You Highness, we was bringing the merchant some
Keshian spice, without bothering to call it to the
attention of the duty office at the Port Authority, if you
see. We was only doing it to support our families.'
Nicholas glanced at the woman who had remained
silent, and Erik followed his gaze. She looked at Tom for a
moment, then briefly shook her head no.
Nicholas said, 'What's the state's request?'
James said, 'Thomas Reed is a habitual criminal, a
self-confessed member of the Guild of Thieves
'Wait a minute, lord!' shouted Thomas. 'I was just
making some idle boasts, trying to get some respect from
the guards -'
James ignored the interruption. 'The state asks for
death.'
'Granted.'
With that single word, Slippery Tom was sentenced to
die the next morning.
Erik looked at Roo and wondered if the terror he saw
in his friend's eyes was as apparent in his own.

Slowly each man was brought before the bar of justice,
and each time at the end of the plea, Erik saw the Prince
look at the woman. Each time she shook her head no,
save for once, when Biggo was on trial, when she nodded
yes slightly. But it seemed to make no difference, for
Biggo was condemned to the gallows with the others.
When there were fewer than half to be tried, the scribe
called, 'Sho Pi!'
The Isalani was brought before the Prince, and James
recited the charges: 'Sho Pi, a citizen of Kesh, Highness.
Arrested for brawling. He killed a guard.'
'Your plea?' asked the Prince.
The Isalani smiled. 'Plea? I have none, Highness. The
facts are as recited.'
'Then enter the plea as guilty,' said Nicholas. 'Have you
anything to say before sentencing?'
The smile broadened, and the Isalani said, 'Only that
facts and truth are not interchangeable. I am but a poor
student, formerly a monk of the order of Dala. I was sent
to find my master.'
'Your master?' asked Nicholas, seemingly interested in
the story, decidedly different than the run-of-the-mill
pleas heard so far today. 'Who is he?'
'This I do not know. I was an indifferent student at the
monastery where I was trained, save in the art of
fighting. I admit to being unworthy of the calling; the
Abbot sent me out, telling me that if I had a master he was
outside the order, and to seek him in a city where men
brawl daily.' The man shrugged. 'Often in jest, truth is
revealed, and I meditated for days upon what my former
Abbot said. Given some insight by hunger, I decided to
seek my master in your city, though it was far from my
own land. I traveled and worked, and found myself in
Krondor but a week ago.'
'Since then he's been arrested three times,' said James.
The man named Sho Pi shrugged. 'Unfortunately, this is
true. I have many flaws, and a temper is among them. I
was being cheated at cards, and when I objected, a struggle
ensued, and when I pleaded my innocence to your city
watch, I was attacked. I merely defended myself.'
'During the struggle he killed a guardsman,' said James.
'Is this true?' said Nicholas.
'Regrettably, but in my defense may I say that it was
never my intent to kill the man. I was merely trying to
disarm him. I had taken his sword from him when he
unexpectedly twisted away from me, pushing himself into
his companion, who threw him forward upon the sword I
was now holding. It is very sad, but it happened.'He spoke
as if he were reciting a lesson, without emotion, not
pleading for his life.
The Prince looked at the woman, who nodded slightly.
Then he said, 'What is the state's request?'
'The state requests thirty years' labor in the prison
gang.'
'Granted,' said Nicholas.
For reasons Erik couldn't understand, Sho Pi seemed
amused at this as the guard escorted him back to the
prisoners' dock.
Two more men were ordered to their death; then, ^when
Erik and Roo were all that were left, their names were
called. Sebastian Lender stepped forward with Erik, and
James said, 'Your Highness, we have a special case here.
Erik von Darkmoor and Rupert Avery are charged with
the murder of Stefan, Baron von Darkmoor.'
'How do you plead?' asked Nicholas.
Before either young man could speak, Lender said, 'If it
pleases Your Highness, I would ask that it be recorded
that the two youths before you plead not guilty.'
Nicholas smiled and leaned back in his throne. 'Lender,
isn't it? You used to cause my father no end of irritation.
Now I see why. Very well.' He looked at Erik and Rupert.
'Do you have something to say?'

Again, before either young man could speak, Lender
said, 'I have here, Highness, documents sworn before the
High Constable in Darkmoor and two priests of local
temples, under oath, on behalf of these young men.' He
opened a large leather document case and pulled from it
a copious sheaf of papers. 'Not only do we have the
sworn testimony of one Rosalyn, daughter of Milo,
owner of the inn of the Pintail; I have a testimony from
several guardsmen who were witness to events leading to
the conflict, and from Baron Manfred von Darkmoor as
to his brother Stefan's state of mind before the incident.'
He handed them to James, who looked irritated at the
need to peruse such a large amount of information in a
short time.
'While my Duke of Krondor looks over these documents,
Master Lender, I would be pleased to hear the
young men tell what happened.'
Erik looked at Roo and, with a nod, indicated he
should begin. 'It started at the fountain, Your Highness,
the one before the Growers' and Vintners' Hall in
Ravensburg. I was there with some others, just talking,
when Rosalyn came looking for Erik. While I was talking
to her, Stefan and Manfred, the Baron's sons, come came
up to us and began talking to Rosalyn. Manfred
kept telling Stefan they needed to get back to their father,
Otto, who was dying at the time, but Stefan kept talking
about "Erik's girl,' and how she was too sweet to waste
on a bastard blacksmith, and things like that.'
Nicholas sat back and seemed intent on the story as
Roo recounted all he could remember up to where Erik
took off after Stefan, and the ensuing fight. When he was
done, Nicholas asked Erik for his story. Erik told it calmly
and without any attempt to avoid responsibility for his
taking his half brother's life.
When the story was told, Nicholas said, 'Why did you
run?'
Erik shrugged. 'I don't know. it seemed. . .'He looked
down a moment, then back up, locking gazes with
Nicholas. 'It seemed impossible that I could kill the swine
and not be hung for it.'
'Did you hate him that much?'
Erik said, 'More than I thought, Highness.' Inclining
his head at his friend, he said, 'Roo saw it coming long
before I did. He told me once that I might have to kill
Stefan someday. Stefan and I met only three times before
that night, and all three times he sought me out to cause
problems, calling me names, insulting my mother, claiming
I wanted his inheritance.'
'Was there any truth to it?'
Erik shrugged. 'I don't think so. I never thought much
about being noble, or having office. I'm a smith, and I'm
the best horse man in Darkmoor - ask Owen Greylock,
the Baron's Swordmaster, if you doubt me. I only wanted
a guild badge and my own forge, no more than that. My
mother only wanted me to have a proper name. It was
her passion that made Stefan fearful. But even if she
dreamed I might someday be a noble, it was never any
dream of mine. I had the name already.' His voice lowered,
and his tone became almost defiant. 'That was, at
least, one thing my father did allow me. He never publicly
denied me the name von Darkmoor, and I'll take
that to the grave with me.'
Roo visibly winced at the phrase. Nicholas sighed. 'This
is very convoluted. Lord James, have you a suggestion?'
James was still leafing through the papers given to him
by Lender. 'Highness, may I suggest you take this case
under advisement, and after supper I'll have the state's
recommendation for you.'
,Granted,' said Nicholas. 'Court is adjourned.' Guards
motioned for the prisoners already in the dock to leave,

and Erik and Roo found themselves being marched back
to join the others.
Erik looked at Lender. 'What happened?' he asked.
Lender didn't look hopeful. 'He'll think about it. You
should know after supper.' Watching the Prince rise from
his throne and leave the hall to enter his private
chamber, Lender said, 'It will be decided by morning,
either way.'
Guards moved them into line behind Sho Pi, and Roo
said, 'What do you think is going to happen?'
'If you had not run, and had told this story at once, I
think Nicholas would have been inclined to believe you,
but you ran, and that counts against you.' He was silent
as the guards chained the prisoners into line, and Lender
said, 'If it goes badly, the gallows. If it goes better, thirty
years on the work gang. The best I can imagine is service
in the Royal Navy for ten years.'
The guards ordered them to move out, and suddenly
Sho Pi looked over his shoulder at Erik. 'Or something
else.' He smiled enigmatically at the remark. Erik thought
his behavior odd for someone facing thirty years of hard
labor.
The prisoners marched out of the hall, back to the
death cell.

Those who had been condemned to die alternated between
numb despair and frantic rage. Slippery Tom was
the most antic with fear; he paced the long death cell
concocting plan after plan to overpower the guards and
escape the palace. He was convinced the Mockers were
waiting for any sign of revolt to launch a raid into the
palace to set their captured brethren free.
After a hour, Biggo stood up and said, 'Give it a rest,
lad. You're going to hang.'
Slippery Tom's eyes widened and with a scream he
lunged at his friend, grabbing him around the throat.
Biggo gripped hard on Tom's wrists and forced the hands
away from his throat, and as he spread his hands, Tom's
face came close to his own. Suddenly Biggo head-butted
Tom, whose eyes rolled up into his head as he lost consciousness.

Biggo deposited the limp form of Slippery Tom in a
hay-strewn corner. 'That should quiet things down for a
while,' he said.
Another man said, 'Is that what you want? Peace?
Well, you'll have all the peace you'll ever need come
tomorrow morning, Biggo. Maybe Tom's right and we
should die fighting guards.'
Biggo laughed. 'With what? Wooden bowls?'
'You anxious to die?' demanded the man.
Biggo rubbed his chin. 'Everyone dies, laddie; it's just a
question of when. As soon as you took to the dodgy path
you were doomed to the gibbet, like it or not.' He sighed
and looked reflective. 'Doesn't seem right to be killing
guards for doing their job. We're going to die anyway, so
why spread the misery? Some of them have Wives and
children.' He leaned back, resting his elbows on a ledge
behind the stone bench he sat upon. 'Hanging may not
be so bad. Either your neck's cracked' - he snapped his
fingers - 'and you're gone, or it chokes you. Choking's
not so bad, I'm thinking. I was choked once in a fight.
You get sort of light-headed and everything collapses
around your vision, and there's this bright light ... No,
me boyo, it'll be over quickly.'
Another man said, 'Give it a rest, Biggo. We're not
temple-goers like you.'
'It was that very choking I spoke of that made me a
religious man, Aaron. Why, if Shaky Jake hadn't busted a
chair over Billy the Sly's head, I'd have died right there. I
decided then it was high time I got righteous with the
gods, I did. So I went off to Lims-Kragma's temple and
talked to a priest, and gave an offering, and I don't miss a

holy day unless I'm too sick to walk.' He sat back and
crossed his arms. 'Tomorrow, when I'm in the Death
Goddess's hall, and she says to me, -Biggo, you're a liar
and a thief and a murderer, even if you didn't mean to be
one, but at least you're a pious bastard," I'll smile at her
and say, 'That's right, Your Goddessness." That should
count for something.'
Erik found it hard to find anything amusing in his
present circumstances, and Roo was close to tears for fear
they would be joining those sentenced to die. The only
three men not under the death mark were Sho Pi, Erik,
and Roo. Sho Pi would be transferred to the work gang
after the hanging, which he would watch as a lesson. He
seemed unfazed by the prospect of spending the next
thirty years hauling rocks out of the royal quarry or
dredging out the royal harbor. It was rumored some
young men had survived their thirty years, so it was
possible he might emerge alive, someday, a broken man
in his fifties who might somehow forge a life. For most
men it only put off death.
The door at the far end of the cell opened, and Erik
jerked around to see who was there, half hoping, half
fearing it would be Lender. Instead it was guards with the
evening meal. More bread and cheese, but this time the
stew had beef in it, and there was a cup of wine for each
prisoner.
Erik found himself hungry, despite his worry, but Roo
simply ignored the food, curling up and falling into a
sleep of emotional exhaustion. Most of the men ate in
silence, save the Isalani, who came to sit next to Erik. He
said, 'You think you will go free?'
Erik looked off into space for a minute. 'No, I think had
we stayed and faced down our accusers, maybe. Had they
seen the blood flowing from my shoulder from Stefan's
sword, maybe then.
'As it is now, I think we are probably going either to be
hung or to spend out our lives working next to you on
the labor gang.'
The Isalani said, 'I don't think so.'
'What makes you say that?'
'That woman. I don't know why, but it was important
that she see what we were thinking when we were
before the Prince.'
'If she was reading minds, like you claim, then it was to
see if we were telling the truth.'
'No, something else.'
'What?'
'I'm not sure. Maybe what kind of men we are.'
Erik finished his meal, and when Roo offered no
protest, he drank his wine as well. The evening stretched
on, and the door opened again.
Erik turned and was astonished to see Manfred von
Darkmoor enter, flanked by two guards wearing the
livery of Darkmoor and two others wearing the Prince's
colors. Manfred motioned with his head to Erik to come
to the far end of the cell where they could speak
privately.
Erik got up slowly, and the guards stood away as the
two half brothers reached the far end of the cell. Erik said
nothing, waiting for Manfred to speak.
After looking at Erik a moment, Manfred said, 'Well, I
suspect you wonder why I'm here.'
'I would think that was obvious,' said Erik. 
'I'm not entirely sure why I'm here, truth be told.
Perhaps it's because I have lost one brother and am about
to lose another, whom I don't know.'
'I may not be lost, brother,' said Erik dryly. 'The Prince
has taken the evidence under advisement, and I have a
very gifted solicitor arguing on my behalf.'
'So I have heard.' Manfred looked Erik up and down.
'You do look a great deal like Father, you know. But I
suspect you have your mother's steel in you.'
'Why do you say that?'
'You never knew our father; he was a weak man in

many ways,' Manfred said. 'I loved him, of course, but it
was difficult to admire him. He avoided fights, mostly
with Mother, and he hated being in the public eye.' With
an ironic smile, he added, 'I, on the other hand, find that
I rather like it.' Picking an imagined speck from his
sleeve, he said, 'I don't know if I should hate you for
killing Stefan or thank you for making me Baron. But
either way, Mother is up talking to the Prince right now,
ensuring you go to the gallows.'
Erik said, 'Why does she hate me so?'
Manfred said, 'I don't think she hates you, really. Fears
you is more like it. It was our father she hated.'
Erik looked surprised. 'Why?'
'Father liked the ladies, and Mother always knew he
had been forced into marrying her. From what I
gathered, after I was born they were man and wife in
name only. It was Mother who ensured we had only
male servants or ugly women working in our castle;
Father had an eye for pretty young girls. Even with
Mother's precautions, Father found every pretty woman
within a day's ride of the castle. Stefan was a lot like him
in that respect. He really thought he'd hurt you if he took
your girl and had his way with her.'
'Rosalyn wasn't my girl,' said Erik. 'She was more like
a sister.'
'Even better,' said Manfred. 'He would have delighted
in knowing that. If he could have taken your mother
while you watched, he'd have liked that even more.' His
voice lowered. 'Stefan was an evil bastard, Erik, a
mean-spirited pig who delighted in causing pain. I should
know, because I was on the receiving end of it most of
the time. It was only when I caught up with him in size
and could defend myself that he left me alone.' Almost
whispering, he said, 'When I first saw him dead, I was
angry enough to have killed you myself that minute.
After the shock wore off, I realized I felt relief that he was
gone. You did the world a favor by killing him, but I'm
afraid that fact won't help you at all. Mother's going to
see you hung. I guess I'm here to tell you that at least one
of your brothers doesn't hate you.'
'Brothers?'
'You're not father's only bastard, Erik. You may have a
score of brothers and sisters out there. But you were the
oldest, and your mother made sure the world knew it. I
guess that's really the reason you are going to hang
tomorrow.'
Erik tried to muster as much courage as he could.
'We'll still see what the Prince has to say.'
'Of course,' said Manfred. 'If you do somehow come
out of this without being hung, and after you've spent
your time on the prison gang, send me a letter.' He
turned and walked away, then turned to look back at
Erik. 'But don't enter Darkmoor if you wish to stay alive.'
Erik stood alone for a minute after Manfred left, then
returned to his place next to the sleeping Roo.

Time dragged on and Erik found himself unable to sleep.
Several others fell into fitful dozes, and only Biggo and
the Isalani seemed able to sleep comfortably. A couple of
the men sat in silent prayer.     
At midnight, the door opened and a handful of priests
entered, from various orders, and each stood across from

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN

the prisoner who wished to take comfort. This continued
for an hour or more; then the priests left, and
still no word from Lender.
Erik at last fell into a half-sleep, with panic waking
him up several times, his heart pounding and his chest
constricted, as he fought against the rising terror.

Suddenly a loud clang echoed in the otherwise silent
cell block and Erik was on his feet as Sebastian Lender
entered the room. Erik lightly kicked Roo awake, and
the two hurried to the far end of the cell.
Erik looked at what Lender carried and his chest constricted
in terror. A pair of boots, fashioned out of soft
leather, with high tops that folded down, were clutched
in the old man's hands. They were a horseman's boots,
well made and artfully crafted, and Erik knew why
Lender carried them.
Erik said, 'We're to die?'
Lender said, 'Yes. The Prince gave the order less than
an hour ago.' Lender handed the boots through the bars
to Erik. 'I'm sorry. I thought I had built a persuasive
brief, but the mother of the man you killed is the
daughter of the Duke of Ran and has much influence in
this court as well as the King's. The King himself was
consulted, and in the end you were both sentenced to
death. There is nothing that can be done.' He pointed to
the boots that Erik now clutched before him. these
were your father's last gift to you; I thought it would be
unfitting for you not to have them at least for a few
hours before. . .'
'They hang us,'whispered Roo.
Erik pushed the boots back through the bars. 'Sell
them, Master Lender. You said the gold he left me
wouldn't cover your fees.'
Lender pushed them back toward Erik. 'No, I failed
and I will give your gold to whoever you instruct me to.
There is no fee, Erik.'
Erik said, 'Then send the gold to my mother, at
Ravensburg. She's at the Inn of the Pintail and she has no
one to care for her. Tell her to use the gold wisely, for it is
all I will ever be able to give her.'
Lender nodded and said, 'I pray the gods will be gentle
with you, Erik, and you as well, Rupert. You have no evil
in your hearts, even if you have done this violent thing.'
Lender looked close to tears as he turned away, leaving
the two young men from Darkmoor alone in the far
corner of the death cell.
Erik looked at his boyhood friend and said nothing.
There was nothing to say. He sat and stripped off his
common boots, and pulled on the rider's boots. They fit
as if they had been fashioned for him. High, to mid-calf,
they were soft and clung like soft velvet instead of harsh
hides. Erik knew that if he worked for a lifetime he
would not have been able to afford their like.
He sighed. He would at least wear them for part of one
day, from the cell to the gallows. He only regretted he
didn't have at least one opportunity to test them on
horseback.
Roo sat on the floor, back against the bars. He looked at
Erik, his eyes wide with fear, and whispered, 'What do
we do now?'
Erik tried to smile reassuringly at his friend, but the
best he could manage was a crooked grimace. 'We wait.'
Nothing more was said.

EIGHT

Choice

The door opened.
Erik blinked, surprised to discover he had dozed, in a
numb, emotionally exhausted sleep. Guards, heavily
armed against the possible rebellion of the condemned,
entered. Last through the door was the strange man
Robert de Loungville.
'Listen, you dogs!' he shouted, his gravelly voice striking
them like a leather glove. With a twisted smile he
said, 'You come when bidden and die like men!' He
called six names, and the last of the six was Slippery Tom.
Tom held back, as if somehow he could hide among the
group who would be hung second. 'Thomas Reed! Get
out here!' commanded de Loungville.
When Slippery Tom only crouched lower behind his
friend Biggo, de Loungville sent in a pair of guards,

swords drawn. The other prisoners stepped aside, and the
two grappled with Tom a moment, then dragged him
from the cell. He started to cry out for mercy and wailed
the entire way to the gallows.
No one in the cell spoke. They all listened to the sound
of Tom's screaming as he was carried farther and farther
from them, then turned as one to look out the cell
window as the screaming grew again in volume. The first
six prisoners were marched in line, save for Tom, who
was still being dragged; his voice reached a near shriek in
terror. Repeated cuffing from the guards who carried him
only seemed to increase his panic, and short of knocking
him senseless, they had no way to shut him up. If they
were put off by the screaming, they showed no sign; Tom
obviously wasn't the first man they had dragged shrieking
to his death; he would be silent soon enough.
Through the bars, Erik watched with a mixture of
revulsion and fascination as the first five men plodded up
the six wooden steps that led to the gallows. In some
distant corner of his mind he knew he would soon be
following them, but he couldn't bring himself to accept
that reality in his heart. This was all happening to someone
else, not to him. The
men stepped up on the high boxes placed under the
nooses, and Tom was carried up to where he would die. He
kicked and spit and tried to bite the guards, who held on to
him tightly. Then they lifted him up to the box, while
another jumped up beside him and quickly placed the
rope around his neck. Two more guards held him in place
lest he kick the box over and die before the order was
given.
Erik didn't know what to expect - an announcement of
some sort or reading of a formal verdict - but without
ceremony Robert de Loungville came to stand directly in
front of the condemned, his back to the men still in the
cell. His voice carried across the yard as he said, 'Hang
them!'
Guards kicked hard at the boxes under the men's feet, in
one case twice to move it from under the man who
slumped down in a faint at de Loungville's command.
Slippery Tom's screaming was choked off abruptly.
Erik felt his stomach knot at the sight before him; three
men went limp, a sign their necks had snapped; one jerked
twice, then died; but the last two kicked as they were
slowly choked to death. Slippery Tom was one of the two,
and it seemed to Erik he took an impossibly long time to
die. The slender thief kicked, striking one of his guards
with a heel, and Biggo said, 'Should tie a man's legs, you'd
think. Robs him of dignity, kicking around like that.'
Roo stood next to Erik, tears of terror streaming down
his face as he said, 'Dignity?'
Biggo said, 'Not much else left to a man now, laddie.
Man comes into the world naked, and leaves the same
way. Clothes on his body don't mean anything. He's
naked in his soul. But bravery and dignity, that counts
for something, I'm thinking. Maybe nothing to anyone,
but someday, you never know, one of these guards might
be telling his wife, "I remember this big fellow we hung
once; he knew how to die."'

Erik watched as Slippery Tom kicked, then twitched,
then at last ceased moving. Robert de Loungville waited
for what seemed a long time to Erik before, with a
motion of his hand, he shouted, 'Cut them down!'
The soldiers cut the dead men from the gibbet, and
while they were being carried down to be placed on the
ground, other soldiers hurried with fresh nooses and put
them in place.
Suddenly Erik realized they were coming to get him.
His knees began to shake and he put out a hand to steady
himself, pressing his palm against the rough stone. This is
the last time I'll feel stone against my hand, crossed his mind.
Robert de Loungville motioned for a company of guards
to form up, and they marched out of sight of the waiting
prisoners.
Through the walls they could hear the tread of boots
upon stone as the guards marched from the yard to the
death cell. Closer and closer they came, and Erik
alternately wished that they were here and it was over
and that they would never reach the death cell. He
pressed his hand hard against the wall as if the rough feel
of it against his flesh somehow denied the approaching
end of his life.
Then the door at the end of the hall opened and the
guards marched through. The cell door was opened and
de Loungville was calling their names. Roo was called
fourth, Erik fifth, and Sho Pi, as the only one who would
not be hung, was last.
Roo got into line and looked around, panic on his face.
'Wait, can't we. . . isn't there. . .'
One of the guards put a firm hand on his shoulder.
'Stay in line, lad. That's a good fellow.'
Roo stopped moving, but his eyes were wide, with
tears running down his face, while his mouth moved,
saying nothing that Erik could understand.
Erik glanced around and felt a sick numbness in his
stomach, as if he had been poisoned. Then his bowel
tightened and he felt the need to relieve himself and was
suddenly fearful he would fill his pants when he died. He
found his chest tight and had to will himself to breathe.
Sweat dripped down his face and ran from his armpits
and groin. He was going to die.
'I didn't mean it . . .' said Roo, pleading with men who
had no power to save him.
The sergeant in command gave the order. The prisoners
were marched from the cell, and Erik wondered
how he was managing to keep in step, for his feet were
leaden and his knees trembled. Roo shivered visibly and
Erik wished he could have touched his friend's shoulder,
but the shackles and manacles prevented such movement.
They left the long hall next to the death cell.
The condemned moved down a long corridor, to
another that led to a short flight of steps. They walked up
them, turned another corner, and out through a door
into daylight. The sun was still not above the walls, so
they moved through shadow, but above them a blue sky
promised a beautiful day. Erik's heart almost broke wishing
he could see that day.
Roo cried openly, making inarticulate noises punctuated
by a single word, 'Please,' but he managed to walk.
They moved past where the first six bodies lay in the
yard, as a charnel wagon was being drawn close enough
for the dead to be loaded into it. Erik glanced down at
the dead men.
He almost stumbled. He had seen death before,
having found Milo and having looked at Stefan and the
nameless bandit after he killed them, but he had never
seen this. The men's faces were contorted, especially
those of Tom and the other man who had strangled,
their eyes bulging from their sockets. The other four
whose necks had broken still looked ghastly, with eyes
staring lifelessly at the sky. Flies were already gathering

on the corpses, and no one was bothering to shoo them
away.
All at once Erik was being moved up the steps and he
felt his bladder weaken. He had not needed to relieve
himself, and suddenly he felt an overwhelming urge to
ask for permission to do so before he was hung. A wave
of childish embarrassment swept up from some deep
well of memory and he felt tears coursing down his
cheeks. His mother had scolded him at an early age for
messing his bed during the night, and for reasons
beyond his ability to understand, the thought of messing
himself now was the worst fate he could imagine. From
the reek of urine and excrement, others had already lost
control; he didn't know if it was those ahead of him or
those who had already died. He felt a desperate need
not to lose control and have his mother get mad.
He tried to look at Roo, but suddenly he was stepping
up on the box, a guard stepping up next to him to
place the noose expertly around Erik's neck without
hesitation, then step down without upsetting the box
below Erik's feet. He tried to look over, but for some
reason, he couldn't see Roo.
Erik felt himself tremble. He couldn't make his eyes
work, and images of bright sky overhead and dark shadows
under the walls made no sense. He heard a few
mumbled prayers and what he thought was Roo's softly
Pleading'... No ... please ... no ... please,' over and
over.
He wondered if he should say something at the end to
his friend, but before he could think of anything to say,
Robert de Loungville came to stand before the condemned
men. With astonishing clarity, Erik could see
every detail of this man who was to order his death. He
had shaved in a hurry that morning, for a slight stubble
had turned his cheeks dark, and there was a slight scar
above his right eye Erik hadn't noticed before. He wore a
fine red tunic, with a badge that Erik could now see
depicted the Seal of Krondor, an eagle soaring over a
peak above the sea. He had blue eyes and dark brows,
and his hair needed to be trimmed. Erik wondered how
he could see so much so quickly, and felt his stomach
rebel. He was about to be sick from fear.
The only prisoner not slated to die was brought to
stand beside de Loungville, who turned to him and said,
'Watch this and learn something, Keshian.'
Nodding once to the men on the gibbet, he ordered,
'Hang them!'
Erik sucked in his breath in terror as he felt a powerful
blow knock the box from beneath his feet. He heard
Roo's shriek of terror, and then he fell.
The sky spun for Erik as he moved through the air. His
only thought was of the blue above, and he heard himself
cry, 'Mommy,' as he felt his body hit the end of the rope.
A sudden jerk made his skin burn as the rope tightened
around his neck, then with another jerk he continued to
fall. instead of the expected crack of his own neck or the
sudden choking as his windpipe was crushed, he felt a
numbing slam along his face and body as he fell hard
against the wooden floor of the gibbet.
Suddenly Robert de Loungville was shouting, 'Get
them to their feet,'
Rough hands dragged Erik upright, and with a

half-dazed sense of being somewhere else, he looked
around and saw stunned men returning his confused
expression. Roo gaped like a just-landed fish and his face
was sporting a red mark from where it had struck the
boards. His eyes were puffy and red, and snot ran down
from his nose as he cried like a baby.
Biggo glanced around, blood running from a cut on his
forehead, as if trying to understand this evil prank that
robbed him of his meeting with the Goddess of Death.
The man next to him, Billy Goodwin, closed his eyes and
sucked in breath as if he were still choking. Erik didn't
know the name of the man at the far end of the gibbet,

but he stood silently, his expression as stunned as the
others'.
'Now listen, you swine!' commanded Robert de
Loungville. 'You are dead men!' He glanced from face to
face. He raised his voice, 'Do you understand me?'
They nodded, but it was clear none of them did.
'You are officially dead. I can have anyone who doubts
my word hauled up again, and this time we'll tie the rope
to the crosspiece of the gibbet. Or if you'd prefer, I will
happily cut your throat.'
Turning to the Keshian prisoner, he said, 'Get over
there with the others.' The shackled men were being
pulled roughly down the steps to stand next to the bodies
of the dead.
Soldiers cut short the rope hanging from each of the
five men, and two placed a similar noose around Sho Pi's
neck. 'You'll leave those on until I tell you to take them
off,' shouted de Loungville.
He came up to the five still-stunned men and looked
each in the eyes as he walked slowly before them. 'I own
you, You're not even slaves. Slaves have rights! You have
no rights. From now on, you will draw each breath at my
whim. If I decide I don't want you breathing my air any
longer, I'll have the guards close that noose around your
neck and you will stop breathing. Do you understand me?'
Some of the men nodded, and Erik said, 'Yes,' softly.
De Loungville nearly roared when he said, 'When I ask
you a question, you will answer loudly so I can hear you!
Do you understand me?'
This time all six men said, 'Yes!'
De Loungville turned and began walking along before
the men again. 'I am waiting!'
It was Erik who said, 'Yes, sir!'
Coming to stand before Erik, de Loungville put his face
before Erik's, so their noses were less than an inch apart.
'Sir! I am more than a sir, you toads! I am more than your
mothers, your wives, your fathers, and your brothers! I
am your god from this moment on! If I snap my fingers,
you're dead men in truth. Now, when I ask you a
question, you will answer, 'Yes, Sergeant de Loungville!"
Is that clear!'
'Yes, Sergeant de Loungville!' they said, almost shouting,
despite raw throats from the mock hanging.
'Now load those men into the wagon, you swine,' de
Loungville commanded. 'Each of you take one.'
Biggo stepped forward, picked up the body of Slippery
Tom, and,carried him as a man might a child, loading him
into the wagon. Two gravediggers stood in the charnel
wagon and dragged the corpse deeper into the wagon bed
to make room for the next.
Erik picked up a body, not sure what the man's name or
crime had been, and carried it to the wagon, placing it
where the gravediggers could grab it. He looked at the
man's face and didn't recognize him. He knew it was one
of six men he had seen for two days and probably spoken
to, but he couldn't recall who this man was.
Roo looked down at the man at his feet, then tried to
pick up the body. He struggled, tears from an apparently
inexhaustible fount streaming down his face. Erik hesitated,
then moved to help him.
'Get back there, von Darkmoor,' commanded de
Loungville.
'He can't do it,' said Erik, discovering his voice still
hoarse and his neck sore from the rope burn. De
Loungville's eyes narrowed menacingly, and Erik quickly
added, 'Sergeant de Loungville,'
'Well, he'd better,' said de Loungville, 'or he'll be the
first one of you sent back to hang.' He pointed back up
the steps with a dagger he now held.
Erik watched as Roo struggled to find strength enough

to drag the corpse to the wagon. The ten feet must have
looked like a mile. Erik knew Roo had never been a
strong boy, and whatever vitality was usual, his had fled
days before. He looked as if his arms were damp rope,
and he had no power in his legs as he dragged hopelessly
on the corpse.
Finally it moved, first a foot, then two, and after a
moment more, another. Grunting as if he were carrying
suits of armor up a mountain, Roo pulled until he got the
body to the foot of the wagon. Then he collapsed.
De Loungville came to stand over him, crouching
down so his face was level with Roo's. He shouted so
loud he nearly screamed, 'What? Do you expect those
honest workmen to climb down from there and finish
your job for you?' Roo looked up at the short man,
silently pleading to die.
De Loungville reached down and gripped Roo by the
hair, pulling him to his feet, holding the dagger to his
throat. 'You're not going to die, you useless piece of pig
snot,' he said, as if reading the boy's mind. 'You're mine,
and you will die when I tell you it is my pleasure that you
die. Not before. If you die before I tell you, I will reach
into the Death Goddess's hall and yank you back to life,
and then I will kill you. I will cut your belly open and eat
your liver for dinner if you don't do as I tell you. Now get
that dead meat into that wagon!'
Roo fell backwards, hard against the wagon's tailgate,
and barely kept himself from falling. He leaned down, got
his arms under the body's arms, and heaved.
'You're no good to me, boy!' bellowed de Loungville.
'If you don't get him in that wagon by the time I count to
ten, you worthless slug, I'll cut your heart out before
your eyes! One!'
Roo heaved and his face betrayed panic. 'Two,' He
forced his own weight forward, and got the corpse sitting
up. 'Three!'
He lifted with his legs and somehow got himself half
turned around, so that the dead man rested against the
tailgate. 'Four!' Roo took a breath and heaved again, and
suddenly the man was halfway into the wagon. 'Five!'
Roo let the body go and reached down quickly, gripping
the corpse around the hips. He ignored the reek of urine
and feces as he heaved with his last reserve of strength.
Then he collapsed.
,Six!' screamed de Loungville, leaning over the boy,
who sat at the base of the wagon.
Roo looked up and saw the man's legs were hanging
over the end of the tailgate. He struggled to his feet as de
Loungville shouted, 'Seven!' and pushed as hard on the
legs as he could.
They bent and he half pushed, half rolled the dead man
all the way into the wagon as de Loungville reached the
count of eight.
Then he fainted.
Erik took a step forward. De Loungville turned, took a
single step, and delivered a backhanded blow to Erik that
brought him to his knees. Lowering his head to lock
gazes with the stunned Erik, Robert de Loungville said,
'You will learn, dog meat, that no matter what happens
to your friends, you will do what you're told when you
are told and nothing else. if that's not the first thing you
learn, you'll be crow bait before the sun sets.'
Straightening up, he shouted, 'Get them back to their
celll'
The still-stunned men moved raggedly along, not
certain what had happened. Erik's cars rang from the
blow to his head, but he risked a glance back at Roo and
saw that two guards had picked him up and were bringing
him along.
in silence the men were taken back to the death cell
and herded in. Roo was unceremoniously tossed in, and
the door slammed shut behind.

The man from Kesh, Sho Pi, came to look at Roo and
said, 'He'll recover. it is mostly shock and fear.'
Then he turned to Erik and smiled, a dangerous look
around his eyes. 'Didn't I tell you it might he something
else?'
'But what?o asked Biggo. 'What was all this vicious
mummery?'
The Keshian sat down, crossing his legs before him. 'It
was what is called an object lesson. This man de
Loungville, who works, I imagine, for the Prince, he
wishes you to know something without any doubt whatsoever.'
'
Know what?' asked Billy Goodwin, a slender fellow
with curly brown hair.
'He wants you to know that he will kill you without
hesitation if you do not do what he wants.'
'But what does he want?' asked the man whose name
Erik didn't know, a thin man with a grey beard and red
hair.
Closing his eyes as if he were about to take a rest, Sho
Pi said, 'I do not know, but I think it will be interesting.'
Erik sat back and suddenly giggled.
Biggo said, 'What is it?'
Finding himself embarrassed before these men, he
said, 'I loaded my pants.' Then he started to laugh, and
the laughter had a hysterical edge to it.
Billy Goodwin said, 'I dirtied myself, too.'
Erik nodded, and suddenly the laughter was gone and
he found to his amazement he was crying. His mother
would be so angry with him if she found out.

Roo roused when food appeared, and to their astonishment
it was not only abundant but good. Before, they
had gotten a vegetable stew in a heavy beef stock, but
now they were served steaming vegetables and slabs
of bread, heavy with butter, and cheese and meat.
Rather than the usual bucket of water, there were cold
pewter mugs, and a large pitcher of chilled white wine
- enough to slake thirst and ease the tension, but not
enough to get anyone drunk. They ate and considered
their fortune.
'Do you think this is some cruel thing the Prince is
doing to us?' asked the grey-bearded man, a Rodezian
named Luis de Savona.
Biggo shook his head. 'I'm a fair judge of men. That
Robert de Loungville could be cruel like this if it suited
his needs, but the Prince isn't that sort of man, I'm
thinking. No, like our Keshian friend here says -'
'Isalani,' corrected Sho Pi. 'We live in the Empire, but
we are not Keshian.'
'Whatever,' said Biggo. 'What he said about this being
a lesson is right. That's why we still have these on.' He
flipped the length of rope that still hung from around
his neck. 'To remind us we're officially dead. So that
whatever happens next, we know that we're living on
sufferance.'
Billy Goodwin said, 'I don't think they'll have to
remind me anytime soon.' He shook his head. 'Gods. I
canot remember what I was thinking when they kicked
the box from under me. I was a baby again and waiting
for my mum to come fetch me from some difficulty. I
don't think I can tell what I felt like.'
The others nodded. Erik felt tears start to gather as he
remembered his own feelings as he fell. Flushing that
aside, he turned to Roo. 'How are you doing?'
Roo said nothing, only nodded as he ate.
Erik knew he was looking at something powerful
changing in his friend, something was marking him and

making him different from what he had known all his life
in Ravensburg. He wondered if he was changing as much
as his friend.
Guards arrived later to remove the trays and pitchers,
and no one spoke. Soon the cells fell into darkness, and
the single torch that illuminated the hall outside remained
unlit.
'I think it's de Loungville's way of telling us to sleep as
soon as we can,' said Biggo.
Sho Pi nodded. 'We will get an early start on whatever
it is we do tomorrow, then.' He curled up on the stone
shelf and closed his eyes.
Erik said, 'I'm not sleeping in my own filth.' He removed
his boots and trousers, then took them to the
slops bucket and did his best to shake loose the dirt there,
using a bit of the drinking water to clean them as best he
could. It was a gesture, nothing more, and the pants were
still dirty and again wet when he put them back on, but
he felt better for trying.
Some others followed his example, as Erik nodded at
Roo, who sank back into a corner with his arms wrapped
around him, despite the fact it wasn't at all cold that
night. But Erik knew his friend felt a chill inside that no
fire would ever drive out.
Erik lay back, and to his astonishment felt a warm
fatigue sink into his bones, and before he could ponder
the amazing events of the day he was asleep.

'Get up, you scum!' shouted de Loungville, and the prisoners
stirred. Suddenly the cell erupted in a cacophony of
sound as guards slammed shields against the iron bars
and began to shout.
'Get up!'
'On your feet!'
Erik was standing before he was fully awake. He
looked at Roo, who blinked like an owl. caught in a
lantern's light.
The door to the cell was opened and the men ordered
out. They came to stand in the same order they had
marched to the gibbet in, and waited without
comment.
'When I give you the command to right turn, you will
all turn as one and face that door. Understand?' The last
word wasn't a question but a harsh command.
'Right turn!'
The men turned, feet shuffling, the shackles making
any quick movement difficult. The door at the end of the
cell block opened, and de Loungville said, 'When I give
the order, you will start forward, with your left foot, and
you will march behind that soldier there.' He pointed to a
guardsman with the chevron of a corporal on his helm.
'You will follow him in order, and any man who fails to
keep his place will be back on the gallows within one
minute. Are we clear on that?'
The men shouted, 'Yes, Sergeant de Loungville!'
'March!'
The first man in line, Billy Goodwin, moved out, but it
was obvious that Biggo and Luis didn't know their left
from their right, and it was a ragged group that set out
after the corporal. They followed through a long corridor,
away from the courtyard where they had endured the
false hanging the day before. They climbed a long flight
of stairs and were taken into what appeared to be the
palace proper. Their chains clanked as they moved
quickly, and suddenly Erik was self-conscious, as they
were hurried past some court officials who glanced at
them and returned to whatever discussion they were
having.
Erik realized he was still filthy, as were all the other
five men, though Sho Pi was only in need of a bath. The
rest had soiled their clothing and had infused it with the
reek of terror. The bit of cleaning the night before had
done nothing to rid the clothing of the stink. Usually
untroubled by the smell of honest sweat, a constant

companion to a blacksmith, Erik was now repulsed by
the stench that intruded on his nose.
'In there,' said de Loungville, and Erik realized it was
the first time he had spoken in a calm voice in two days.
They entered a large chamber, with six steaming tubs
of water, each as high as a man. The door was closed and
Erik heard it bolted from outside. Guards came and unlocked
the manacles and shackles. 'Strip off those rags!'
said the corporal.
Biggo started to remove the rope from around his
neck, but de Loungville shouted, 'Leave that there,
swine! You're dead men and that's to remind you. Strip
off the rest!'
The men removed their clothing. Erik put his boots in a
corner, and watched as a serving boy gathered up the
ragged, stinking clothing.
'You're,going to meet someone very important,' said
de Loungville. 'We can't have you stinking the place to
high heaven. I don't mind, but I'm lowborn like you
swine and have no tender ways; others aren't so tolerant.'
He motioned, and other boys, dressed in the livery
of palace squires, carried buckets of soapy water. Without
warning, they lifted the hot soapy water and poured it
over Biggo and Billy Goodwin, and then returned to the
tubs for more. 'Wash down!' shouted de Loungville. 'I
want you as clean as you've ever been in your life!'
The men began to clean away weeks of grime, body
filth, and stench. Harsh salves were brought to rub into
their hair to rid them of any lice, and Erik thought he'd
have no hair left, yet by the time they were done, he stood
.shivering but revived. He hadn't felt this clean since the
night before he and Roo had killed Stefan.
He looked at Roo, who nodded and gave a pale imitation
of his former smile. He hugged himself as water dripped off
the only thing he wore, the noose around his neck. He had
scant body hair, and Erik was astonished how much he
looked like a little boy.
Clothing was produced, plain grey tunic and trousers,
and Erik was allowed to reclaim his boots, as the others
with footgear were. Biggo and Billy went barefoot.
They were lined up and inspected by Robert de
Loungville, who said, 'You will be allowed to go without
chains for a while; the noise and sight of them might be
offputting to some of the more tender-natured of those we
are about to meet. But first you will follow me.'
The corporal ordered them to return to line and they did
so, falling in raggedly in the same order they had entered
the bathing room.
They were marched to a small courtyard and there
brought to a halt. Along the top of the wall, guards with
crossbows were stationed, while every fifth man held a
longbow. 'Those fellows up there with the big bows are
Pathfinders,' said de Loungville. 'They can hit a sparrow at
a hundred yards. They're up there to keep any of you from
becoming inspired during our next little demonstration.'
He motioned and a guard handed him a sword. 'Any
one of you scum think they know how to use this?'
The prisoners looked at one another, saying nothing.
'Do you!'bellowed de Loungville into the face of Luis de
Savona.
'I'm a fair hand with the sword, Sergeant,'he said softly.
De Loungville reversed the sword and handed it to de
Savona. 'Then here's the deal. Run me through with this
and you can walk out of the palace a free man.'
De Savona looked around and, after a long moment,
shook his head, throwing the sword to the ground.
'Pick that up!' raged de Loungville. 'I'll tell you when
to put something down! You pick up that sword and
run me through with it, or I'll have that man up there'
- he pointed to one of the Pathfinders -'put a clothyard
shaft through your thick skull. Is that clear?'
De Savona said, 'Either way I'm a dead man.'
De Loungville came up to the taller Rodezian and
shouted into his face, 'Do you doubt my word? I said if

you killed me you would be a free man! Are you saying
I would lie to you?'
When de Savona said nothing, Robert de Loungville
struck him across the face. 'Are you calling me a liar?'
Luis bent, grabbed the sword, and as he came up, he
moved forward. Lunging, he abruptly found de Loungville
had easily sidestepped the sword, and suddenly
he was on his knees, with de Loungville behind him,
the noose now pulled tightly around his neck. As he
struggled for air, de Loungville said, 'I want you all to
listen.
'Every man you meet from now on is your better.
Each of them can take any weapon you have away from
you like you were a baby. Each of them has proved
himself a hundred times over to me, and I will grant any
and all of them permission to cut your throat, strangle
you, bludgeon you with a club, kick you to death, or
whatever else they feel like if you so much as fart without
my permission. Is that clear?'
The men mumbled something and he yelled, 'I can't
hear you!' De Savona was beginning to turn crimson
from lack of air. 'If he dies before I can hear you, you'll
all hang.'
'Yes, Sergeant de Loungville!' shouted the men, and
de Loungville let go of the noose around de Savona's
neck. The Rodezian lay gasping for breath, and after a

I

200        RAYMOND E. FEIST

moment he got to his feet and staggered into his place in
line.
'Remember, every man you meet from now on is your
better.'
He motioned for the guards to move the men out, and
the corporal let them back into the palace. They moved
quickly through a long passage, and abruptly they were
in what appeared to be a private quarter of the palace.
They were led into a good-size chamber, one far
smaller than the grand hall where the court had been
conducted, and there they saw the Prince of Krondor,
Duke James, the strange woman who had come to see
them and who had been at their trial, and other nobles of
the court.
The woman stood stiffly, as if this was a difficult place
for her to be and she looked from face to face, and jerked
slightly when she looked at Sho Pi. Some silent communication
seemed to pass between them, and at last she
turned to Lord James and the Prince and said, 'I think
they will do as you wish. May I be excused now, Sire?'
The Prince of Krondor said, 'I can only imagine how
difficult this was for you, my lady. You have my thanks.
You may withdraw.'
The Duke whispered to the woman a moment and she
nodded and left the hall. De Loungville said, 'Sire, the
dead men are here.'
The Prince said, 'What you started was with my
father's knowledge and permission, Bobby. I am still
trying to make sense of it all.'
James said, 'Nicky, you've seen what the snakes can do
with your own eyes. You were at sea when Arutha
agreed to Calis and Bobby's plan. You'd still be at sea if
we hadn't sent for you when your father died. Don't
doubt for a moment it's necessary.'
The Prince sat, took off the circlet of office he 'wore,
and studied the prisoners, who waited silently. After

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 20I

studying them for a long moment, he said, 'Was all this
really necessary?'
James said, 'It was. Every condemned man would lie to
you about his willingness to serve. They'd give up their
mothers when the box was being kicked from under
their feet. No, these men are the six who could be trusted
the most among those condemned to die.'
Nicholas looked from face to face and said, 'I still don't

see the need for the charade at the gallows. Certainly that
was cruel beyond reason.'
De Loungville said, 'Excuse me, Sire, but these men are
now officially dead. I have made that abundantly clear to
them all. They know that we can execute them at whim
and they are to a man desperate to stay alive.'
'What about the Keshian?' asked the Prince.
James answered. 'He's something of a special case, but
my wife feels he will be needed.'
The Prince sat back and let out a long sigh. 'Coming to
this office wasn't easy. Borric agonized long hours about
who should sit on this throne until Prince Patrick is old
enough to come take my place and I can return to the
sea. That's three years of this.
'I'm a sailor, damn it. I haven't spent more than a
month in port in twenty years. This administering. . .'
James smiled, the light in his eyes making him look far
younger than his years. 'You sound like Amos.'
The Prince shook his head as a faint smile graced his
lips. 'I guess I do. He taught me all there was to know
about the sea.' He looked at the men. 'Have they been
told yet?'
Robert de Loungville said, 'That's why they're here,
Sire.'
The Prince nodded to Lord James, who said, 'Each of
you men is being given a choice. Listen carefully, so
you'll understand what is at stake.'
Robert de Loungville said, 'By the grace and generosity

I

202        RAYMOND E. FEIST

of His Highness, execution of your sentence has been
postponed. You have not been pardoned, nor have you
had your sentence commuted. Are you clear on this?'
The men glanced at one another, then several nodded.
James said, 'You men will all die. The only question is
how and when.'
Robert de Loungville said, 'The Kingdom needs something
done. And we need desperate men who are willing
to do it. To this end we have pulled you from the brink of
death and we offer you this choice:
'Any man who is enough at peace in his conscience to
face the Death Goddess can ask and we will take him
from this hall to the gallows and execute him. That ends
his worries in this lifetime.'
He glanced around the room and no one said anything,
not even the previously pious Biggo. 'Good. You are
going to be trained for this job that needs to be done, and
when we are finished we are going to sail halfway
around the world, and we are going to go places few men
of the Kingdom have ever gone before and lived to tell
about. And while we are going and while we are there,
you may bloody well wish you had elected to go to the
gallows this afternoon.
'But if we somehow get through it all and get back to
Krondor...'
Nicholas said, 'Your sentences will be reviewed and
you will be paroled or pardoned, depending upon whatever
recommendation Lord James makes to me.'
'And that will depend on what recommendation is
made by those who lead you,' said James. 'So if you have
any hope in you that someday you might again be free,
do as you are told.'
The Prince nodded and de Loungville said, 'Turn
around!'
The prisoners did as they were commanded, and they
were marched out of the hall. instead of being returned

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 203

to the prison block, they were taken to a small courtyard
where a wagon waited. It was a shallow-bed affair
with a buck-board, two drivers, and two benches in
back where the men could sit three to a side, with a
guard at the rear. A company of horse soldiers moved in
to flank the wagon, and de Loungville shouted, 'Get in
that wagon!'
The men did as commanded, and soldiers quickly

chained each prisoner's right ankle to an iron ring under
the small seat. De Loungville mounted a horse brought to
him by a groom and gave the order for the company to
move out. The gates to the courtyard were opened, and
as the wagon rolled through, Erik could see they were
leaving by a gate that led to a small road. At the far end of
the road they could see a private dock, which must be for
the palace. They turned away from the dock and moved
toward the city itself.
They reached a second gate, and guards swung this
wide, letting the procession leave the palace grounds.
The hooves of the horses beat a loud clang as iron struck
paving stone, and the horses snorted to be outside and
moving. Erik looked around. It was barely past noon.
So much had passed since that first glimpse of sky at
dawn. .
The sun had burned off whatever morning fog and low
clouds had gripped the city, and now a glorious fall day
was upon them. Warm sunlight caressed his face as cool
ocean breezes carried the sound of gulls and the tang of
salt.
He remembered the stab of pain he had felt when he
had thought he would not see the day, and the terror and
panic that had gripped him as rough hands had placed
him upon the gallows returned. Erik felt a choking
sensation in his own chest, and suddenly, without any
ability to control it, he began to weep.
Roo looked over and nodded, and tears began to run

I

204

RAYMOND E. FEIST

down his face, too, but no man in the wagon said anything,
soldier or prisoner. After a few minutes, Erik got
himself under control and he sat back, feeling the breeze
cool him, and vowing to never again be that afraid.

NINE

Breakdown

Erik groaned.
He struggled to carry the bag of rocks up the hill, his
feet slipping on the treacherous mound of stone. The hill
was formed by the rocks being hauled by the six prisoners
up its unstable side.
Reaching the top, Erik paused, took a deep breath as
sweat poured down his face, and swung the heavy bag off
his shoulder. He upended it and rocks went cascading
down the side of the mound, causing those behind to
curse as they were forced to dodge the stones. He knew
the guards would allow him a moment to catch his
breath before he negotiated his way down the dangerous
stone mound to continue this pointless task.
He let his vision sweep the vista below. The mound of
rocks rose up in the midst of a military camp. He had
never seen a soldiers' compound, but he guessed this
was unlike any other such installation in the world. A
huge square, it was surrounded by wooden walls upon
which sentries patrolled, as much to ensure no one approached
from outside as to keep prisoners inside. A
good three hundred yards of woodlands had been
cleared around all sides, providing that no one could get
close enough to the camp to witness what occurred
inside.
In the midst of the camp were three large buildings,
also fashioned from logs. Ten large tents, each designed
for six men, were arrayed along the north wall of the
compound. A familiar sound carried through the morning

206

RAYMOND E. FEIST

air, and Erik looked toward the southern wall,,where
stood an armory, leather shop, and cook shed.
'Von Darkmoor!' shouted a guard, and Erik realized
he had lapsed into daydream. The next warning would
be followed by a fowling blunt, an arrow with a hard
ball of lead covered with leather that could break a
man's arm if it struck there. Usually it just knocked the
hapless target from the peak of the hill, followed by a
rough ride down the rocky slope. That would be
followed in turn by an equally rocky berating from
Robert de Loungville.
The sergeant stood a short distance away, watching as
the men moved slowly up the rock pile, trying not to
dislodge stones onto the men behind. He spoke softly to
the corporal, whose name was Foster. They pointed at
various men as they struggled to get the rocks up the
hill.
Roo moved toward Erik and he puffed mightily as he
said, 'Only two or three more trips, I figure.'
The scrawny boy from Darkmoor had never been one
for labor, Erik knew, but over the last week he had
managed to keep up with the others. Part of it, Erik
knew, was the food. None of them had ever eaten that
well in their lives. And while they were roused from
sleep at dawn, they turned in early enough so they were
sufficiently rested.
Erik had felt his old strength return, and if anything
he was even more fit than before. He and Biggo loaded
up more than the others, because they could carry
more, but every man pulled his share of rocks up that
slope.
Erik made one more transit from the small mounds
dumped by the wagon to the growing hill. When he got
to the bottom, he saw Robert de Loungville wave him to
stand near by. When all six prisoners were finished,
standing in ragged line, de Loungville came up to them.

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 207

'Tired?' he asked, his face set in a friendly smile.
The men muttered they were and he nodded in understanding. '
I bet,' he said. 'Could be you're as tired as
you've ever been in your life?'
The men muttered agreement. He rocked back and
forth a little on his feet, then shouted, 'And what do you
do when your enemy hits you when you're tired?'
Suddenly Erik was slammed into from behind, his

assailant taking him down. A man in black moved away
as Erik rolled over on his back, out of breath and
heart pounding.
The others were likewise on the ground, save Sho Pi,
who danced nimbly away as a black-clad man lay
facedown in the dirt.
De Loungville said, 'Here, now? How did you manage
that?'
Sho Pi said, 'By never for a moment assuming I'm safe,
Sergeant.'
De Loungville raised his brows and, with eyes wide
with respect, nodded. 'That is an attitude I can appreciate.'
He moved with almost a saunter as he approached
Sho Pi. 'You would do well,' he said to the others, 'to
follow this man's example.' Without warning he leveled
a flying kick at Sho Pi's knees, which the Isalani deftly
avoided.
Suddenly the Isalani was a blur of motion as he
sidestepped the smaller but solid man. He kicked out
with his right leg, and tattooed de Loungville with a
series of kicks to the face and chest, then he swept with
his leg, coming full circle, and took de Loungville's feet
out from under him.
The men who were still on the ground laughed at the
sight of their tormentor humbled, but that laughter
turned to silence as two guards ran up pointing
crossbows at Sho Pi, forcing him away from de
Loungville.

208        RAYMOND E. FEIST

Robert de Loungville sat up, shaking his head, and
then jumped to his feet. 'Did you think that was funny?'
None of the men spoke.
'I said, "Did you think that was funny?"'
The men shouted, 'No, Sergeant!'
De Loungville turned and said, 'I'll show you something
funny.' His voice rose to the near shriek the men
had become used to over the last week. 'That pile of
rocks is in the wrong place!'
Erik bit back a groan as he knew what was coming
next. 'You will take that pile apart and move it over
there.' De Loungville pointed to a place where the
wagon, now empty, stood. 'Then when I've decided
exactly where I want the rocks, I'll have you move them
again. Is that clear?'
Without thought Erik shouted, 'Yes, sir!'
'Now get started.'
Erik didn't look to see what the others were doing.
He stood, shouldered his sack, and started to the pile
of rocks. He reached the edge and bent over to pick up
rocks, but de Loungville's voice cut the air. 'From the
top down, von Darkmoor! I want it moved from the top
down!'
Erik winced, and without comment started the
dangerous climb to the top of the rock pile. Halfway up
the slope, Erik heard Billy Goodwin say, 'I'd like one
good shot at that bastard.'
From even farther down the slope, Erik heard Biggo
say, 'With your luck you'd probably kick him in the
heart and break your foot.' Erik couldn't help but laugh,
and suddenly he realized it was the first laugh he had
experienced since Stefan had died. Suddenly his foot
slipped and he half fell, slamming both knees into the
rocks. As he winced in pain and regained his feet, he
cursed the day he had first seen this camp, a week
earlier.

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 209

Five miles to the east of Krondor, the wagon he
had ridden in had turned south, leaving the heavily
traveled road from Krondor to Darkmoor. But it wasn't
the main road southeast that headed toward the Vale of
Dreams and the border with Kesh. Rather, they had
followed an old wagon trail to what looked to Erik to
have once been a farming village near a small lake,
surrounded on three sides by sheltering hills. The Crown
had obviously taken over this area, for several guard
posts had been erected along the way and three times

they had been forced to stop while Robert de Loungville
had shown proper passes. Erik had been curious, for with
all the guards riding with them, and the tabards of the
Prince's own Household Guard, the guards along the way
had still appeared cautious.
The other thing that had piqued Erik's interest had
been how veteran those soldiers guarding the way to
this camp had appeared. AD the men had been older;
not one smooth cheek in the crew, and many had borne
scars. And most wore differing tabards, some the black
with the golden eagle of Bas-Tyra, others the golden gull
on brown of Crydee.
A guard sergeant at the gate had greeted de Loungville
by name, calling him Bobby, but still looked
over his pass. Once inside the compound, Erik and the
others had their first glimpse of the camp. A dozen
men, all wearing black tunics and trousers, had been
practicing with bows in a corner of the compound as the
wagon had rolled through the gate, and as the large doors
were swung shut, Erik caught sight of a dozen more
practicing their horsemanship. He had gawked as the
wagon had ground to a halt and the prisoners had been
unchained.
The men had been forced to run from the wagon to
stand in front of the main building for over an hour,
toward what end Erik had never understood.

2I0        RAYMOND E. FEIST

As he had waited, he had reveled in the simple fact of
still being alive. His experience on the gallows had left
him alternating between black depression and giddy
elation. He had entered the compound in good spirits,
which hadn't worn off as he had waited before the
nameless building.
De Loungville had gone inside for over an hour and
had returned with a man who appeared to be some sort
of chirurgeon, who had examined all the prisoners and
had made several comments on their condition Erik
hadn't understood. For the first time in his life he had
some sense of how horses felt when he examined them
for fitness.
The prisoners had been run through some strange drills
and asked to march around. This had brought rude comments
and mocking observations from those men in black
who were standing around while the prisoners drined.
At the end of the day, they had been ordered to the
second large building, the mess. Fully half the tables were
unoccupied after the men in black were seated. Young
boys in the livery,of squires of the Prince's court in
Krondor raced between the tables heaping abundance
beyond Erik's dreams on them. Breads, hot and slathered
with butter, pitchers of cow's milk, cooled by ice brought
down by riders from the nearby mountains. Meats chicken,
beef, and pork - surrounded by vegetables of
every description were set down next to platters of
cheese and fruit.
Erik was suddenly hungry beyond belief and ate.
He lay almost comatose in a tent next to Roo that
night.
The next morning, training had begun, and they had
been ordered to build the mountain. Robert de
Loungville had ordered them to pick up seemingly endless
piles of rocks and move them half the distance across
the compound to build this hill.

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 2II

His revery was broken by Sho Pi saying, 'I apologize.'
Erik reached the peak and, as he knelt and started filling
the bag with rocks, said, 'For what?'
'My temper got the best of me. Had I let him knock me
down, we would not have to do this over.'
Erik finished loading up his sack. 'Oh, I think he'd have
found a reason. You just provided a convenient excuse.'
Moving carefully down the hill as Sho Pi took his place
at the summit, Erik said, 'It was worth it to see him
dumped on his prat.'

'I trust you feel that way tomorrow, friend Erik.'
Despite aching shoulders and legs and black-and-blue
marks all over his body from the constantly rolling rocks,
Erik knew he would.

'Get out of there, you dogs!'
Erik and Roo were out of their bedding and on their feet
before they were fully awake. Corporal Foster looked at
the six men. Billy Goodwin, Biggo, and Luis were on one
side of the large tent, while Erik and Roo were on the other
with Sho Pi. All six stood at what they had come to learn
was the approved stance, what the soldiers called 'at
attention,' head back, eyes forward, hands to either side of
them, palms in, feet at an angle together at the heels, each
man before the foot of his wood and straw bed.
If this morning was like the others, they would be
working for an hour or so before the morning meal, when
they would be required to sit in silence at a table removed
from the forty or so men who occupied the compound.
They had been forbidden to speak to the other men, and
those black-clad soldiers had shown no inclination to
speak to the prisoners.
That they were soldiers was beyond doubt to Erik. They
spent long hours drilling, climbing the wooden walls,
jumping barricades, riding horseback, practicing with all
manner of weapons.

~i

2I2        RAYMOND E. FEIST                      SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN    2I3

Instead of being returned to the rock hill, for their third
day of moving the rocks to Robert de Loungville's newly
chosen location, they were marched before the big building
where Erik was now convinced the officers lived.
They were told to stand at attention and wait, while de
Loungville entered the building.
A few minutes later he reemerged with another man
behind. The second man struck Erik as looking somewhat
odd, though he couldn't place why. He was slender, blond,
and youthful - no more than twenty or twenty-five years
of age - but de Loungville showed obvious deference to
him as they spoke.
'These are the last six,' he said. The blond-haired man
nodded, saying nothing. 'I don't like this,' de Loungville
continued. 'We planned for sixty men, not thirty-six.'
The other man spoke at last, and there was something
strange in his speech: soft and well mannered, yet different
from what Erik had heard among the nobles and
wealthy merchants of Darkmoor and Ravensburg. Erik
had heard a lot of foreign accents in his day, but he
couldn't place this one. 'Agreed, but conditions force us to
make do with what we have. What about these?'
'They have promise, Cali[As, but we've months of training
ahead.'
'Who are they?' asked the man called Calis.
Robert de Loungville moved before Biggo. 'This one's
called Biggo. Strong as an ox and almost as intelligent.
Quicker than he looks. Calm - doesn't rattle easily.'
He stepped before the next. 'Luis de Savona. Rodezian
cutthroat. Likes to use a knife. Handy where we're going.'
Then he said, 'Billy Goodwin. Looks like a simple lad,
but he'd cut your throat for the fun of it. Too mean when
angered, but he can be broken.'
He came to stand before Erik. 'This is von Darkmoor's
bastard. Probably too stupid to live, but he's almost as
strong as Biggo and he'll do as he's told.'

I

Then he was before Roo. 'Rupert Avery. He's a sneaky
little rodent, but he's got potential.' He then grabbed
Roo's ever-present noose and pulled him forward, almost
off balance, as he shouted into his face, 'If I don't kill him
first for being so damned ugly!'
Then he let go and Roo almost fell backwards overcompensating,
as de Loungville stepped before Sho Pi.
'This is the Keshian I told you about. Could be very useful

to us if he can learn to keep his temper. More dangerous
than Goodwin; this one doesn't show it when he's getting
angry.'
Then he turned to the six prisoners. 'Do you see this
man, here?' asked de Loungville.
The prisoners said, 'Yes, Sergeant!'
De Loungville said, 'Be afraid of him. Be very afraid.'
He looked from face to face. 'He is not what he seems. He
is the Eagle of Krondor, and wise men keep out of sight
when he flies above.'
Calis indulged himself in a slight smile at the rhetoric,
nodded, and said, 'You men will live or die as the Kingdom
requires. I will see you dead before I will let you
jeopardize the mission we will be upon. Is this understood?'

The men nodded. They had no idea what mission they
were to be a part of, but it had been driven home daily
that it was vital to the interests of the Kingdom and that
each of them would instantly be killed if they appeared in
any way to threaten its success. Erik was certain he had
never been more convinced of,any single fact in his life
than he was of this.
Calis studied each face, then said, 'You have two
weeks, Bobby.'
Two weeks! I was to have three more months!'
With a hint of a distant sadness, Calis said, 'Arutha is
dead. Nicholas was not told of his father's plan until the
day after hearing of his death. It was a shock. He's not

2I4

RAYMOND E. FEIST

convinced of the wisdom of what we do.' He turned and
looked at de Loungville. 'Two weeks, and any man who
isn't reliable, hang him.' Without another word he returned
inside the building.
De Loungville glanced from face to face one more time,
then said, 'Be very afraid.'

The next morning, the hill of rocks was gone. The men in
black had been ordered to remove it, and thirty of them
had made quick work of the pile. Erik and the others had
been taken to another part of the compound by Corporal
Foster.
He had stood before them and said, 'Any of you murdering
mother-lovers think you know how to handle a
sword?'
The men glanced at one another, but no one spoke.
They had learned within a few hours of arriving at camp
that when Foster or de Loungville asked a question, you
had better be absolutely sure of the right answer if you
opened your mouth.
'I thought so,' said Foster. 'Easy enough to club a man
from behind in an alley, eh, Biggo?' He grinned without
humor.
Foster moved down the line. 'Or slip a dagger into a
man's back when he's drunk in a tavern, eh, Luis?'
When he got to Erik he said, 'Or you can just hold him
from behind while your little rat-faced sweetheart sticks
a knife into his gut.'
Erik said nothing. De Loungville had a harsh nature
and was a tyrant, but didn't seem to find particular
pleasure in his work. Corporal Foster seemed to enjoy
insulting the prisoners. Billy Goodwin had lost his
temper with Foster the second day and had endured the
humiliation of being soundly drubbed by the experienced
soldier before the entire company in the compound. The
men in black had gathered to laugh at the thrashing.

I

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 2I5

Two soldiers approached, each carrying three swords.
'Well,' said Foster, 'these two lads and myself are going to
attempt to show you a thing or two about using this
weapon, so you don't hurt yourself if you happen to find
one in your hand someday.' Taking out his own sword,
he said, 'Better men than you have managed to cut off

their own foot.'
The soldiers passed out a blade to each man. Erik held
his awkwardly. It was a common Kingdom shortsword,
heavier than the fast rapier, shorter than the broad-,
bastard-, and greatswords used by some fighters. It was,
he had been told as a boy, the simplest weapon to train
with.
'Pay attention,' said de Loungville. 'Your life will certainly
depend on it.'
So began an intensive week of arms study. For a half
day they stood in the yard, slamming away at one
another with wooden practice weapons, until everyone
of them was covered in black-and-blue welts. Then, after
the midday meal, they were taken to the stable area.
'Who's a rider here?' asked de Loungville.
Erik and Luis raised their hands. Two horses were led
toward them, and de Loungville said, 'Get aboard and
let's see what you know.' Luis
quickly mounted, but Erik walked around his
horse and inspected the animal.
De Loungville said, 'Waiting for him to invite you up,
von Darkmoor?'
Ignoring the sarcasm, Erik said, 'This animal isn't
sound.'
'What?' asked Robert de Loungville. 'He looks sound
enough to me.'
'He's off in the left rear.' Erik reached down and -ran his
hand along the animal's left rear leg, and the gelding
obligingly raised his foot. A thick mat of dirt, hay, and
dung was packed in the hoof. Erik reached for a pick that

I                                                           7

2I6

RAYMOND E. FEIST

hadn't been on his belt for a month, and smiled to himself
ruefully. 'Old habits.' He looked up. Without a word one
of the two grooms handed Erik a hoof pick and he pulled
the mass lose. Even standing a few feet back, de Loungville
could smell the stink.
Erik held the hoof, inspecting it. 'Thrush. That won't
make him lame until the hoof rots off, but there's certainly
something else here.' Erik dug into the frog and the horse
protested and began to pull away. 'Hold!'shouted Erik and
gave the horse a backward slap with his hand, more an
admonishment than any real punishment. Sensing he was
being treated by someone who knew what he was doing,
the horse quieted, though he obviously wasn't pleased.
'Got a rock here, small one, but in there good.' Suddenly it
popped out and blood and pus oozed after it. 'A couple of
days of soaking that hoof a time or two in hot salty water
should fix him right up. Just needs to be packed with
poultice to keep it from festering.' He let go of the leg.
'Someone's not taking proper care of these horses, Sergeant.'

De Loungville said, 'Someone is going to find himself
shipped back to the Shamata garrison at first light tomorrow
if there's one other lame horse in that stable tonight,'
To one of the grooms he shouted, 'Bring another mount.'
As the horse was led away, de Loungville asked, 'How
did you know?'
Erik shrugged. 'It's what I do. I'm a blacksmith. I can see
little things most don't notice.'
De Loungville rubbed his chin as he thought, then softly
he said, 'Get back in fine.'
While waiting for a fresh mount to be brought, de
Loungville said, 'Let me see you take the yard at a trot,
de Savona!'
Luis moved the horse easily forward and Erik nodded
slightly in approval. The Rodezian had a good seat and
didn't saw at the horse's mouth. He over-balanced a little

I

I

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 2I7

and his legs were somewhat out of position, but overall
he was a fair rider.

The afternoon wore on, with each of the men taking a
turn at riding. Roo sat well enough, despite his having
little experience, and Sho Pi seemed to have a natural
aptitude ~ good balance and a relaxed seat. Biggo and
William were both tossed before they made it halfway
around the compound, and by the end of the day, every
man but Erik and Luis was complaining of muscles in
his legs he never knew existed now stretched and
beaten.

For the first three days after meeting Calis, Erik and
the other five prisoners were put through intensive
weapons training as well as at least two hours of riding
each day. Erik was developing a fair sense of how to use
a sword, as was Roo, who used his quickness to good
advantage.
No one asked, but it was clear that they were being
trained for combat and that their ability to prove something
to Robert de Loungville was critical to their future
survival. No one spoke of Calis's final instruction to de
Loungville, that any man found unreliable was to be
hung.
No one cared to speculate on what would constitute
reliability in two weeks' time.
Each man's strengths and weaknesses began to
emerge as the week wore on. Biggo was fine as long as
he had clear instructions, but when something unexpected
arose, he was indecisive. Roo was daring, and
took chances, and as often as not received lumps and
bruises for his troubles.
Billy Goodwin lost his temper in a blind rage, while
Sho Pi lost his temper and became intensely focused, in
a fashion that made Erik consider him the most deadly
of the company.

I

2I8

RAYMOND E. FEIST

Luis de Savona was a fair swordsman - though he
claimed he excelled with the dagger - and a decent
horseman, but his vulnerability was his vanity. He could
not say no to any challenge.
Sho Pi was naturally gifted and never repeated a lesson.
He sat effortlessly in the saddle and used a sword easily
mere hours after having been shown what to do.
Five days after Calis had inspected them, training in the
camp changed. The six prisoners were ordered out with an
equal number of men in black, and the dozen of them
were marched to a distant area of the compound, where
two soldiers waited, wearing the brown and gold tabard of
the Duchy of Crydee. On the ground before them lay a
host of strange-looking objects, some which appeared to
be weapons, others which were incomprehensible.
The two soldiers, a captain and a sergeant, began a
lecture on these alien weapons, quickly demonstrating
what each was capable of doing. After that demonstration
was over, the men were marched to another area, where a
man who appeared to be a priest of Dala began to instruct
them in the basics of caring for wounds.
By the end of the day, Erik had a firm picture in his mind
of one thing: they were going to war. But from the
unspoken urgency of each man's instruction this day, they
were going into war with a dearth of preparation.

The sound of horses whinnying in greeting brought Erik
awake. He rolled from his bunk and moved aside the door
flap of the tent. Looking out, he saw a company of Royal
Krondorian Lancers entering the compound, some distance
away. He glanced toward the east and saw the sky
already lightening. They would be roused from sleep in
another hour.
He started to return to bed, but something caught his
attention. For a moment he stared at it without recognition,
then it struck him. He watched until he was almost

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 2I9

sure of what he saw, then moved to Roo's bunk. Kneeling,
he shook his friend awake, covering his mouth to keep
him from waking the others. In the gloom he made a
motion for his friend to follow him.
They crept out of the tent, and then Roo said, 'What?'
'Miranda. She just rode in with a company of Royal

Lancers.'
'Are you certain?' said Roo.
'No - that's why I'm going to get a closer look.'
Erik turned and, hunkering down so those marching
post on the wall wouldn't notice him, moved off. The
sentries weren't there to keep Erik and the others inside,
he was now certain, but to ensure no one outside got close.
The two young men circled around to the far side of
what Erik had come to think of as the officers' quarters; at
least, that was where de Loungville retired every night.
and where Calis seemed to reside. They ducked along,
keeping away from the line of lancers, who sat their horses
easily as they turned their mounts around and began
riding back toward the gate. Erik glanced at them long
enough to realize they weren't heading out again. merely
moving away from the command building. Erik had a
suspicion but said nothing to Roo.
The two of them darted along behind the building, and
crept under a window. Faint voices carried. Erik motioned
for Roo to remain silent and moved to another window.
Here he could barely make out the sound of conversation.
' . . . need to be gone before the camp rises. Every man
here has seen me at least once. It would not do for my
presence to be detected. Too many questions.'
A man's voice - Erik thought it sounded like Calis answered: '
I agree. Something urgent must have brought
you here. What is it?'
'Nicholas received a warning from the Oracle. She
begins her mating with the eldest of her attendants, and
the new Oracle will be conceived this summer.'

220

RAYMOND E. FEIST

Calis was silent a moment, then said, 'I know as much
about the Lifestone as any living, Miranda, save those
who saw it at Sethanon. I'm not certain I appreciate the
significance of what you tell me, though.'
Miranda laughed, and Erik thought it a sound without
humor. 'It seems that as we embark on this dangerous
course, the Oracle of Aal begins a mating, birth, and
death cycle that will take the better part of five years. In
other words, just as we seek to end the danger to the
Lifestone, the Oracle is going to mate, give birth to her
successor, and die. We will be without the oracle's visions
for the next twenty-five years, until the daughter reaches
maturity.'
Calis said, 'I know little of the Ancients of Aal, save the
legends about them. I take it this mating is a surprise to
you?'
Miranda mumbled something Erik couldn't hear, then
said, ' . . . the lin-fit of seeing one's own future, I suppose.
A rebirth that limits the Oracle's abilities for a twenty five-
year period once every thousand years is little more
than an inconvenience, from that perspective, but it's
certainly ill timed from ours.'
'Is Nicholas thinking of canceling our plans?'
Miranda said, 'I don't know. I can't read him as I could
his father. He's so much like him in some ways, yet so
different in others. I've only met him twice before, and I
have no doubt he would have little trust for me were it
not for you and James vouching for me.'
'You've convinced us of your sincerity and commitment
to stop the enemy, even if you're damn unbending
in revealing much about yourself.' He paused a moment.
'What's the upshot of all of this?' asked Calis.
'It means we need to move even sooner than we
thought. It means you should dismantle this camp starting
today and have your ships ready to depart next
week.'

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 22I

Calis was silent. Then he said, 'I have six men who are
not trained, and we're barely half the number we had
planned on. I cannot depend on hired mercenaries. Too
many good men died last time because I made that mistake.
I need -' He stopped himself. 'You know all the
arguments. Bobby and I made them to Arutha three
years ago. If we must go with only thirty-six men, I will
take the next nine days to evaluate the last six. I'll hang

them myself before I'll let them become a weak link in
the chain we're forming, but I'll at least give them that
little bit of time to prove themselves.'
Miranda's voice rose. 'I have been through a great deal
to select these men, Calis. I think I know each one well. I
think you have only two who might break, Goodwin and
de Savona. The others will do as we need.'
'Might break,' he repeated. 'That's the problem. You
think. If I knew they would break, I'd execute them
tonight. If I knew they would stand fast, I would leave
tomorrow. But if we judge wrong, and if one of them
breaks at the wrong time . .
'Nothing is certain.'
There was a dry chuckle and Calis said, 'Working with
an oracle has given us something of a false illusion of
certainty, I'm afraid. If we return to the certainty that
nothing is clear before it happens, we might survive this
venture.'
'I'm leaving. If you insist on lingering the next nine
days, so be it, but Nicholas is adamant we should move as
soon as possible. We've captured two agents and they
know we're up to something.'
'Dead?'
'Now they are. Gamina read both men before they died
and found out little we didn't already know, but it's clear
the snakes are closing in on this facility. You've done well
covering your tracks for the last year, but now they know
something unusual is happening outside of Krondor. The

I

I

222        RAYMOND E. FEIST

next bunch of spies they send won't be sniffing around
the palace, they'll be out here in the woods looking for
this encampment. once they discover it was here
'We've taken every precaution.'

'Someone who loaded a wagon of beef will say something
in an inn. Someone at the palace will let a list of
prisoners be seen while he's out of an office. It will take
time, but within a year, not only will the snakes know
you're in their way again, they'll have the name of every
man with you.'
Calis was silent, then said something Erik couldn't
make out. Suddenly there was a sound of a door opening
and closing, and Erik motioned for Roo to follow him in a
hurry. They returned the way they went and made it
back to their tent. Moving back to their bunks, Erik was
silent for a moment as he caught his breath; then he
woke Biggo. 'Quiet. Wake the others.'
When Luis, Sho Pi, and Billy were awake, Erik said,
'Some time before you were caught, did you run into a
woman named Miranda?'
The four looked at one another, and it was Sho Pi who
spoke first. 'Dark of hair and with intense green eyes?'
Erik nodded. 'She spoke to me outside of Shamata, while
I was on the road to Krondor. There was something
about her that I noticed at once. She has power.'
'What did she tell you?'
Sho Pi shrugged. 'We talked of things of little importance.
I found her very beautiful and was flattered at the
attention, but her interests seemed more abstract than
carnal. And I was curious why I sensed she was so much
more than she seemed.'
'Was there anything she said that got you tossed into
jail?'
Sho Pi said, 'Nothing I can remember.'
The others talked about their encounters, Billy and
Luis saying she had used a different name, but it was

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 223

clear that all six men had encountered the woman at
some point, less than a month prior to being arrested.
Biggo said, 'That girl gets around, if she was talking to
you' - he pointed at Sho Pi - 'at Shamata the week
before running into Erik and Roo near Darkmoor.'
'How does she know us?' asked Luis.
Erik said, 'It has something to do with an oracle who

reads the future. We're important in some way, but only
if we survive the next.nine days. I don't know why we
were saved from the gallows, and I don't know what we
might be to these people if we continue to live, but I have
no doubt of this: if Calis thinks we're dangerous to his
plans, he'll hang us all before he breaks camp in nine
days. If he thinks we're trustworthy, he'll keep us alive.
It's that simple.'
Billy said, 'It means we've got to work hard.'
'We've been breaking our backs!' complained Luis.
'I mean work hard at being what they want.'
Sho Pi said, 'Billy is right; he and I must stem our
temper.' He rose and returned to his own bunk, where he
sat back, resting on his elbows. 'Biggo must begin to
show he can think for himself.'
'What of me?' said Luis, obviously fearful of not being
judged trustworthy in nine days' time.
'You must put aside your pride. You must stop acting
as if every order is an insult, and every task beneath you.
Your arrogance will get you hung.'
'I am not arrogant!' demanded Luis, obviously ready to
take offense.
Erik saw a fight coming and, thinking quickly to stem
it, he said, 'There's more!'
'What?' said Biggo.
'If one of us fails, we all fail.'
'What!' said Billy.
'If one of us is judged unworthy, they're going to hang
all six of us.'

i~

224

RAYMOND E. FEIST

Roo looked at Erik a moment, then nodded. 'We're a
team. We live or die as one.'
Luis glanced around the tent and saw all eyes upon
him. 'I ... will work on humility. When that little cabrone
tells me to shovel dung, I will cheerfully say, Si, me
comandante. How high?'
Biggo grinned. 'If there's a stiffer-necked bunch
around than you bloody Rodezians, it's them Tsurani up
in LaMut, but not by much.' Looking at Sho Pi, he said,
'I've gotten by for years playing dumb so that folks won't
expect much of me. I guess it's a habit now. I'll try to look
a little brighter.'
Sho Pi said, 'And you, Rupert. You must stop trying to
be so clever. It will get you killed. You are not as clever as
you think, nor are others as stupid.'
Erik said, 'What of me?'
Sho Pi said, 'I do not know, Erik von Darkmoor. There
is nothing you do that is obviously wrong. Yet ... there is
something. I do not know. A hesitancy, perhaps. YOU
need to be more decisive.'
Further discussion was halted by the arrival of Corporal
Foster, and the men leaped up to stand before their
beds. The corporal looked around, for obviously something
had been occurring just before he arrived, but
nothing was obvious, so after a moment he shouted, 'All
right. Outside and fall in, you worms, We don't have all
morning!'

I

Foster stood over Billy, screaming insults at him. The
prisoner looked as if he was about to leap to his feet and
attack the corporal. A man in black stood not ten feet
away puffing heavily from the exertion of the recently
ended combat. They had been dueling, with Billy getting
the upper hand, when suddenly Foster had tripped
Goodwin. Then, before he could react, the corporal was
standing over him as if it were Billy's fault.

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 225

Then Foster said, 'And your mother was a whore!'
As he turned away, Billy leaped to his feet. Before he
could charge Foster, Erik hit him with a tackle, driving
his shoulder into Billy's waist. They went to the ground

and rolled, Erik using his strength and weight to keep
Billy under him.
Suddenly soldiers were hauling them apart and Foster
was shouting, 'Here, now! What's this about?'
Erik, blood running from his nose from one of Billy's
elbows, said, 'Keeping him from doing something
stupid, Corporal.'
Foster regarded Erik a moment, then said, 'Right.'
Turning to Billy, he said, 'Going to jump me from
behind, you swine? Well, how'd you like to try it from
in front?' He backed away, pulling his own sword. 'Let
him go.'
The soldiers obeyed and Billy stood with his own
weapon ready. Then Biggo stepped between him and
the corporal. 'Wouldn't be smart for Billy, would it,
Corporal, what with those lads on the wall unlimbering
their bows, and all, would it?'
Billy glanced up and saw that a pair of longbowmen
had strung their weapons and nocked arrows, and were
watching closely.
'Stand away, Biggo,"you overblown pile of cow dung!'
commanded Foster. 'I'm going to cut a few pieces off
this dogmeat.'
Luis came over to stand next to Biggo, with Sho Pi a
step behind. Roo joined them, and Erik shook off the
two soldiers who held him and joined the other five.
'What's this - mutiny?' shouted Foster.
'No,' answered Sho Pi. 'Just trying to keep the situation
from becoming dangerous.'
'I'll have that man hung!' shouted Foster as Robert de
Loungville approached to see what was occurring.
Biggo said, 'then I think you should hang us all.'

I

226        RAYMOND E. FEIST                       SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN    227

Robert de Loungville said, 'What's this, then? Volunteering
to go back to the gibbet?'
Biggo turned and with an affable smile said, 'Sergeant, if
one of us is to be hung for thinking we'd like to murder the
good corporal, then you'd better hang us all, because we
all think it at least a dozen times a day. And I'd rather you
get it over with now than make us work for another week
at this soldier drilling; I'm kind of tired of it. With all
respect, Sergeant.'
De Loungville raised his eyebrows in surprise. 'This man
speaking for you all?'
They looked from one to another. Then Erik said, 'I
think that's the way it is, sir.'
Suddenly de Loungville was standing nose to nose with
Biggo, having to rise up on his toes to accomplish the feat.
'You're not being told to think! What makes you imagine
we care what you think? If you're thinking, that means
you have too much time on your hands. I can fix that.'
Turning to the two guards who had held Erik a moment
before, he said, 'We need the stables swept. Get these
murderous dogs down there and have them pick up
everything they find! And I don't want them dirtying
perfectly good brooms and pitchforks! They can pick
everything up by hand! Now move them out!'
The two soldiers motioned for the prisoners to fall in and
quick-marched them out of sight. As they vanished, Foster
looked at de Loungville and said, 'I think it's starting to
work, Bobby.'
De Loungville scratched his chin as he pondered. 'I
don't know. We'll see. But it had better. We're going south
short-handed and I'd hate to have to hang this lot the day
before we sail.'
Foster said, 'If Billy Goodwin didn't cut my throat for
calling his mother a whore - she was, but he's touchy
about it - then I think he's learning. And the way,they
stuck up for him.'

De Loungville nodded. 'Maybe you're right. Or maybe
they're being clever. We'll have to see, won't we?'
Without waiting for an answer, he turned and headed
back to the command building.

I

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 229

TEN

Transition

i

The alarm sounded.
Drums beat as the camp turned out. it had been three
days since Erik had overheard the discussion in Calis's
office, and the six prisoners had been training hard, focusing
their attentions on doing whatever was necessary
to remain alive. Foster became even more of a tyrant,
abusing the men at every turn, and de Loungville
studied them closely, looking for any sign they might fail
to meet his demands.
Now a new day began with an unexpected twist. The
prisoners moved out of their tent a good half hour earlier
than usual and saw that the other men who lived in the
compound were all hurrying to the command building.
As they followed, they were intercepted by a guard, a
soldier named Perry of Witcomb, who said, 'Fall in
behind me, and stay together. No talking!'
The six fell into their usual order, with Biggo at the
lead and Sho Pi at the rear, Billy, Luis, Roo, and Erik in
between. They reached the building as the door opened
and Calis and de Loungville emerged.
De Loungville held his hand up for silence and said,
'Listen up!'
Calis said, 'We've been discovered. Two of our sentries
were killed last night.'
A muttering broke out among the men in black, and de
Loungville had to call for quiet again. Calis continued,
'You all know what to do; we break camp now.'
Instantly the thirty men in black raced to their tents

and the majority of soldiers began hurrying to their assigned
places. Foster turned to Perry of Witcomb and
gave instructions. The soldier gestured to the six prisoners
and said, 'You lot, come with me.'
They followed the soldier through the frantic but
organized activity, and he led them to a large tent not far
from the blacksmith's shop. 'Find clothing that fits,' he
ordered, 'and put it on.'
The six entered and in the gloom saw a pile of common
clothing. Erik stripped off his boots and then his tunic
and trousers, throwing the ragged grey garments into the
corner. He joined the others in rummaging through the

pile, picking up tunics and judging their size, casting aside
those that were obviously too small. Luis and Billy as well
as Sho Pi found clothing quickly, being of more average
size. But Roo, because of his diminutive stature, and
Biggo and Erik, because of their bulk, took longer to find
clothing that fit. Eventually, all six stood wearing fresh
garments. Erik had found a dark blue tunic with an open
collar and long sleeves. A pair of sailor's trousers were the
only pair of pants he could find that fit. He gave up trying
to push the flared legs into the top of his boots, and let
them fall outside.
Laughter caused Erik to turn and there he saw Roo
with an angry expression. 'It's the only one that fits!' he
said as Billy and Luis made rude observations. The shirt
was open to the waist, and a lurid purple color. Making
matters worse, the only pair of trousers small enough
were a bright crimson.
'Then pick one that doesn't fit,' said Erik, trying hard
not to laugh.
Roo peeled off the offending shirt and looked some
more, finding a plain white tunic that was only slightly
too large. He tucked the voluminous tails of the shirt into
his loud red waistband and Erik nodded. 'Now you look
only slightly ridiculous instead of completely ridiculous.'

I

230        RAYMOND E. FEIST

Roo grimaced, then smiled. 'Red's my lucky color.'
'Get out of there,' called Perry and the prisoners came
out of the tent. 'Get to the smithy, and get aboard the last
wagon in line. There will be two mounted crossbowmen
behind you, so don't imagine you'll get a chance to go for
a stroll.'
He started to move away, then turned and said, 'And
tuck those nooses out of sight.'
The six prisoners had grown used to being required to
wear the nooses at all times, outside their tunics. They
had put them back on after changing. Now they tucked
them inside, so they wouldn't be seen.
Biggo had to quickly strip off his tunic and put on the
noose, then put the tunic on, as the neck of his shirt was
close-fitting. Luis said, 'A bit lumpy for high fashion, my
friend, but it will do.'
Since coming to the compound from the prison, Erik
had noticed Luis was vain - in addition to having a
temper and being arrogant - but he still found himself
liking the Rodezian knife man. He had shaved off his grey
beard, but let his mustache grow, as well as keeping his
shoulder-length hair neatly trimmed. Luis was becoming
something of a peacock. The clothing he had selected
was as fashionable as possible, given the choice. Erik
had no doubt Luis was not simply speaking of high
fashion in the abstract but was a man who had dressed
for court functions before his temper and violent nature
had brought him to low estate. He had said nothing of his
past, but once had mentioned having been friends with
the son of the Duke of Rodez.
They hurried to the smithy and Erik noticed with a
sense of awe just how fast the forge and other equipment
Were being carried out of the building. Everywhere they
looked, men were hurriedly tearing down all signs of
occupation. Newcomers to the camp, workmen from
somewhere - probably Krondor - were now starting to

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 23I

tear apart the three buildings that dominated the compound.
Foster was waiting for them at the smithy and
motioned for them to climb into a wagon. Two guards sat
atop the buckboard and two more climbed in after the
prisoners, who sat three to each side of the wagon as they
had when arriving. Two more guardsmen, on horseback,
moved in behind the wagon, and they set out.
Erik glanced around. Roo seemed half-excited, half

afraid of the significance of what was occurring. Luis
watched carefully, as did Biggo. Billy seemed amused,
and Sho Pi was looking off into the distance.
Some of the men whom Erik recognized as having
been dressed in black were now dressed as were the
prisoners, in a variety of clothing, ranging from almost
ragged to nobles' finery. Some rode on horseback and
others in wagons and more than a dozen were,leaving
the compound by foot. Two more riders approached, and
Erik saw they were Robert de Loungville and Corporal
Foster.
De Loungville pulled up next to the wagon and said,
'All right, listen up. I was talking to Calis about hanging
you all this morning, but we couldn't take the time.
Nothing spoils my breakfast like a rushed hanging. Calis
agrees with me that we can do it later when we can be
more leisurely and do things properly. You men are
going to live a few days longer. But don't think we've
fallen in love with you; those two lads behind you with
the crossbows have orders to shoot any one of you foolish
enough to try to get down from this wagon. Understood?'
'
Yes, Sergeant,' they all said.
'And another thing, until I tell you, no more of that
shouting "Yes, Sergeant." it'll call attention to you. And
attention's too much of what we have right now. So keep
your mouths shut and do as you're told until we get
where we're going.' Without another word, he put heels

II

232        RAYMOND E. FEIST

to his horse and cantered off. Foster followed, only a
length behind.
Erik looked around and noticed no one else seemed
willing to risk a crossbow bolt by saying anything, so he
settled down as best he could in the jouncing wagon and
tried to relax.

Along the road to Krondor they passed groups of men on
foot, many dressed as common mercenaries, farmers, or
laborers. Others rode in wagons and kept to themselves.
A few passed by on horseback, each appearing oblivious
to the others.
Other traffic appeared on the road, heading toward the
capital of the Western Realm. Farm wagons heavy with
late summer crops and the first of the early fall harvest
rumbled toward Krondor. Traders with their goods piled
high and the occasional noble's carriage joined the traffic.
There was no roadblock, and Erik and the others
moved rapidly down the road leading to the southern
gate to the city, the one closest to the palace in which
they had all been condemned to die. In the midday light,
the palace looked splendid, rising up as it did above the
harbor. Towers were aflutter with banners, and the city
spread majestically around the ancient hill upon which
the first keep of the first Prince of Krondor had been
constructed.
At the southern gate, guards waved them through, and
the wagon started a convoluted course through the city.
At last they entered the docks area near the poor quarter,
and Foster suddenly appeared. Without raising his voice,
he said, 'You lot, get out of that wagon and get into that
boat down there.' He pointed to a longboat that bobbed
on the tide at the bottom of a flight of stone stairs leading
down from the quayside. Erik and the others hurried down
the stone steps and entered the boat, each being told
where to sit by a pair of sailors. As soon as Roo, last

I~

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 233

to enter, was seated, Foster joined them and the sailors
pushed off. Expertly the two sailors rowed the longboat
toward a ship in the harbor.
Erik knew nothing of ships. But this one dwarfed
most of those nearby. It had three masts, rising high into
the sky like bare trees, and it was painted a daunting

black. other ships near it were green or red, or blue,
and there was even one that was a gaudy yellow,
making the black ship all the more impressive for its
somber appearance. The longboat reached the side of
the ship and Foster said, 'Up you go,' pointing to a net
hung over the side. Erik rose and gripped the netting
like a ladder and started to climb. The weight of those
below pulling on the net caused him to twist and dip a
little, but he made it safely to the rail, where sailors half
hauled him aboard.
A man in a strange uniform - blue coat cut high at
the waist, white trousers, and a saber hanging from a
baldric slung across his shoulder - motioned for Erik to
stand away. When the others were aboard, Foster called
up, 'That lot is to be kept together, Mr Collins!'
The man in the strange uniform leaned over the rail
and said, 'In with the others?'
'Yes,' answered Foster as the longboat pulled away.
'But in a corner, Mr Collins!'
'Aye, aye, Corporal Foster.'
The man named Collins turned and ordered, 'Follow
me.'
He moved down a strange ladder, narrow and steep, into
a square hatchway, forward of the main mast. Erik was
the last into the hold, and his eyes took a moment to adjust
to the gloom. They entered a cargo hold that had
been reconfigured to act as a barracks. Erik saw that
twenty triple bunks had been fastened to the bulkheads,
ten to each side of the ship, lengthwise, creating a fairly
wide aisle.

II

234        RAYMOND E. FEIST

Between the head of one set of three bunks and the
foot of the next set, large trunks had been affixed to the
deck, in which men were busy stowing gear. Collins
motioned for the six prisoners to follow him. He led them
to the two sets of bunks farthest from the other men, set
against the starboard bulkhead; those across the hold on
the port side were empty. He motioned for them to
occupy the bunks. 'This is where you'll sleep. You'll eat
on deck unless the weather's too rough, when you'll be
eating here. You can store your gear in those two trunks.'
He pointed to the trunk closest to the bulkhead at the aft
of the cargo hold and the one between the two sets of
bunks they were assigned.
Roo said, 'We've got no gear.'
The man said, 'You'll call me Mr Collins, or sir, when
you address me. I'm the Second Mate on Trenchard's
Revenge. The First Mate is Mr Roper, and the Captain
is ... You call him Captain. Is that clear?'
Roo said, 'Yes, Mr Collins. But they didn't give us any
gear, sir.'
'That's not my problem. Your officer will get you what
you need, I'm sure. It's a long voyage, and you'll have
ample time to get organized. Now stay here until you're
sent for.' He left.
Biggo took one of the lower bunks, with Sho Pi and
Billy Goodwin above him, while Roo. Erik, and Luis took
the other bunk, in descending order.
'What do we do now?' asked Roo.
Biggo grinned. 'Nothing. I'm for a nap,' he added
cheerfully.
Erik realized that he was also tired, but nervous, waiting
to discover what fate held in store for them next. Still,
the lulling of the ship as it moved gently on groundswells
in the harbor quickly soothed his nerves, and soon he
was asleep as well.

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 235

A clatter from above and a sense of motion, and Erik sat
up, striking his head against the bottom of the bunk
above. Wincing at the pain, he almost stepped on Roo as
he got down from the middle bunk.
A grinding sound from above and a change in motion,
coupled with the shouts of orders from above, and it
was clear they were under way. The six prisoners
stood unsure of what to do, while the thirty men at the
other end of the hold seemed amused by their con

fusion.
one of them, a large man nearly Biggo's size, said,
'Why don't you run up and tell Bobby de Loungville that
he's been thoughtless in not telling you we was leaving
this soon!'
This brought a burst of laughter.
Luis said, 'Why don't you go ask him if he knows who
your father might be. Your mother certainly didn't.'
The man on the bunk was on his feet and two strides
on his way toward Luis when Sho Pi intercepted him.
'Now, a moment, my friend,' said the Isalani.
'You're no friend of mine,' countered the large man,
now obviously ready to fight with anyone, as he put his
hand on Sho Pi's chest to push him aside.
Suddenly the man was on his knees, pain etched on his
face as Sho Pi held his hand in a torturous grip, pulling
thumb back and palm reversed so the hand twisted back
hard against its own wrist. A gasp of agony was the only
sound he made.
'I was going to suggest,' said Sho Pi, 'that as this is
going to be a very long and tedious voyage, it would be in
all of our best interests to make peace and try to consider
one another's feelings. I'm sure my friend here is more
than willing to apologize for impugning your mother if
you'll graciously grant him pardon.'
Luis was now amused, and with a gesture of removing
a nonexistent hat, he bowed like a courtier and said, 'Sir,

l~

236        RAYMOND E. FEIST

I was a boor and acted rashly and without thought. MY
behavior shames me. I crave your pardon, sir.'
The gasping man, whose eyes were now watering so
that tears streamed down his face, said, 'Granted!' It was
barely more than a croak of pain.
Sho Pi released his hand and the man almost fainted
from relief. Billy helped him to his feet and escorted him
back to his own companions, trying to keep from grinning
as he did. The man kept rubbing his hand, as if
expecting something to be broken, but nothing was. He
shook it a few times as Billy returned to his own side of
the hold.
The hatch above slid aside and two figures came down,
de Loungville and Foster. Foster said, 'Listen up!'
De Loungville stopped about halfway down the companionway
so he could look around at all the men.
'We're under way, which no doubt you know unless
you're unconscious or even more stupid than I thought.
We'll be between ninety and one hundred days at sea,
weather permitting. There's plenty of work to do, and I'll
not have you running to fat because you're not sailors.
Besides, we may be coming home short-handed'- he got
a faraway look for a second, as if that meant more than
what it sounded like -'so knowing your way around a
ship will prove useful. Mr Collins will come down later
with assignments and you'll do as you're told, no questions
asked. He has as much rank as Knight-Captain 'm
the King's Army, so don't go forgetting that because he
looks like a common sailor.'
He moved down the ladder, walked over to where the
six prisoners were waiting, and motioned for them to
gather around. 'I'm only going to tell you this once.
Ruthia must love you, because the Lady of Luck has seen
fit to keep you alive a little longer. I was given two weeks
to judge if you're fit to live, and as things were going, you
were all heading back to the gallows.' He glanced from

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 237

face to face. 'But I convinced Calis that I could hang you
from the yard-arms as easily as I could from the gallows
in Krondor, so you've only gained time.
'The next three months are going to be harsh. You'll
work a full watch like every man on this ship, and
another watch will be given over to some training you
haven't had and those others have.' He hiked a thumb
over his shoulder to the men at the other end of the hold.

Biggo spoke, to everyone's surprise. 'Are we to learn
why?'
'Why what?' asked de Loungville.
'Why this great galloping charade, Robert de Loungville,
Sergeant darling sir. You don't spend the Prince's
gold and dragoon soldiers from all parts of the Kingdom,
then go through all this to save murderers and thieves
from fair justice. You want something from us and you're
prepared to give us back our lives in exchange. Fair
enough, and no questions asked, but men more stupid
than me would know that it's better for us to know
what's ahead and rest certain in that knowledge than to
let imagination stir up horrors that might make us do
something rash and foolish. If we get ourselves killed,
we're not happy and you're not happy.'
De Loungville studied Biggo's face for a moment; then
his face split into a grin. 'I liked you better when you
were stupid, Biggo.' He turned and as he left, he said,
'Stay alive long enough, and I promise you you'll find out
more than you want to know.' As he reached the companionway,
he turned again to add, 'But for the time
being, the trick is to stay alive.'
He climbed the stairs, Foster, as ever, behind him, and
as the hatchway closed, Biggo said, 'Well, that's not really
what I wanted to hear.'
Luis said, 'What do you think? Is he trying to scare us?'
Sho Pi said, 'No, I think the problem is he's trying very
hard not to scare us.'

i~

238

RAYMOND E. FEIST

Erik returned to his bunk, and with a cold feeling inside,
he knew that Sho Pi was right.

Days passed. The first day they had been allowed up on
deck, Erik saw another ship traveling a short distance
away. A sailor had told him that it was the Freeport Ranger,
another ship under Calis's command. Erik said he had
thought all Kingdom ships were called Royal this or that,
and the sailor merely nodded, then went back to work.
Erik didn't care much for the work, but it was outside
and the weather was clement, despite its being early fall.
Roo hated being a sailor, having some trouble with the
heights, but he had the agility to get around in the yards
that Biggo and Erik lacked. Luis and Billy were steady
hands, and Sho Pi took to the tasks put before him with the
same easy grace he had shown in the camp.
After two weeks, Erik had gotten his sea legs and
calluses on his feet; he had put his riding boots away,
because they were dangerous on a ship and the salt water
was,bad for the leather. only officers wore boots, for they
never had to climb the rigging. Erik and the other men
below went barefoot like the sailors and were learning the
sailor's craft in a hurry.
A landlubber of the worst sort, he was no longer confused
by such terms as running out a sheet,'or securing a
yard.'As in the camp, the hard work was accompanied by
good food, a fact remarked upon by more than one sailor.
That they were eating better than was the norm was not
lost on Erik, and he joked that they were being treated like
prize horses being readied for a competition among
nobles. He decided not to mention that such competitions
frequently ended with an animal down with a broken leg,
or a rider thrown to serious injury or death.
Even Roo, averse to hard work his entire young life.
was showing the effects of the hard regime and good food.
There was Wiry muscle on his scrawny frame, and he

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 239

moved with a self-assurance Erik had never seen before.
Roo had always laughed as a child, but there was a
mean, dangerous edge to him, and his humor had often
been cruel. Now he seemed more involved with the
moment, as if it was slowly dawning on him what life
was, as opposed to the mind-numbing fear that death

was only a moment away. Erik sensed something had
changed in Roo, but he couldn't rightly say what that
change was.
Sho Pi observed that whatever awaited them, de
Loungville wanted them fit and ready. Each day was an
equal mix of hard work and battle training.
The second day out, Sho Pi had gone up on deck
during his off watch, to practice a series of controlled
movements that looked like nothing as much as a dance
to Erik. Graceful and flowing, they still held a sense of
menace, as if to quicken the action would turn graceful
motions into killing blows. After he finished and returned
belowdecks, Luis said, 'What was that you were
doing up there, Keshian?'
'Isalani,' corrected Sho Pi, then as he swung into his
bunk, he said, 'It is called kata, and it is the heart of the
arts I practice. It is a sense of movement and it taps the
power around you, to give you balance and ease at the
moment you need to draw upon that power.'
Erik sat up in his own bunk. 'Is that the trick you
used to disarm the soldier?'
'It is, sad to admit, the same, but it is not a trick. it is
an ancient art form, and it can be used to harmonize the
self with the universe, as well as for self-defense.'
Biggo said, 'If you could show me how to kick de
Loungville around the way you did, I'd be interested in
learning.'
'That would be an abuse of the art,' said Sho Pi. 'But
should you wish to practice with me, you are welcome.
Kata will relax you, calm you, and refresh you.'

l~

240        RAYMOND E. FEIST

Billy said, 'Sure. You looked so relaxed and calm when
you kicked de Loungville.'
Luis grinned. 'Ah, but it was refreshing!'
They all laughed. Suddenly Erik was visited with an
unexpected and extraordinary affection for these men.
Murderers all, the dregs of Kingdom society - yet in each
he sensed something that made him feel kinship. He had
never experienced such a feeling before and it troubled
him as much as it felt natural. Lying back on his bunk, he
pondered this odd turmoil.

By the end of the next week, Erik and the others had
joined Luis in taking lessons in kata from Sho Pi. For an
hour after their watch, the six would stand in a relatively
clear area of the deck, between the main hatch and the
foremast, and follow his lead.
Erik found the admonitions to think of a spot of light,
or a soft breeze, or some other relaxing image while he
moved vigorously through a long series of classic Isalani
movements silly at first. After a time, he sensed the calm
that would come with accepting Sho Pi's advice. Despite
the long, hard hours of work, the additional exercise
didn't tire, it refreshed, and Erik had never slept better in
his life.
A sailor, a LaMutian, whose father had been a Tsurani
warrior, asked to join as well. He claimed that much of
what Sho Pi taught was similar to what his father had
shown him as a child, part of the heritage of the Tsurani
,way of the warrior.'
After the group had been practicing for a week, the
large man whom Sho Pi had humbled came over to
watch. After a few minutes he said, 'Can you show me
how to do that thing with the thumb?'
Sho Pi said, 'It is but a part of this. You will learn many
things.'
The man nodded and stood next to Erik. Sho Pi nodded

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 24I

to Erik, who said, 'Put your feet like so.' He showed him.
'Now balance your weight so it is neither too far forward
nor too far back, but just in the middle, even on both
feet.'
The man nodded. 'My name is Jerome Handy,' he said.
'Erik von Darkmoor.'
Sho Pi demonstrated the four moves they would practice,
and slowly led the men through the series. Then,

instructing them to try it again, he moved quickly among
them, correcting position and balance.
From the quarterdeck, Foster and de Loungville stood
watching. Foster said, 'What do you make of that?'
De Loungville shrugged. 'Hard to say, Charlie. It could
be something just to kill the time. Or it could be something
that saves some lives. That Keshian could just as
easily have killed me as embarrassed me with those kicks.
He pulled them, despite the fact he was mad at me.' He
was silent for a while, then said, 'Let it be known that I
won't mind if the others follow Handy's lead. It's about
time our last six birds joined the rest of our flock.'
Slowly, over the next few days, more and more of the
other thirty men joined the group, until at the end of
the third week all were practicing kata under Sho Pi's
supervision.

'You're all prisoners?' asked Luis, incredulity on his face.
'Ya, man,' said an ebony-skinned man from the Vale of
Dreams named Jadow Shati. 'Each man here took the fall
in Bobby de Loungville's little drama. Each of us looked
the Death Goddess in the eye, or at least thought we were
going to.' He grinned and Erik found himself smiling in
return. The man's smile had that impact, as if all the
sunlight and happiness reflected off teeth made brilliant
white by the contrast with his dark skin, the blackest Erik
had ever seen. in the short time he had known Jadow,
Erik had discovered he had the ability to find some

I

242        RAYMOND E. FEIST

humor in almost any situation. He also had a way of
putting things so that Erik almost always ended up
laughing.
Roo threw up his hands. -then why were you such a
bloody bunch of bastards when we first came to camp?'
They were all sitting around in the hold barracks. Over
the last few days, after practicing with Sho Pi, the men had
begun speaking with one another and the barrier between
the six men Erik had come to think of as us'and the other
thirty he thought of as 'them' had started to weaken.
Jadow spoke with the patois common to the Vale, a
no-man's-land claimed at various times by the Empire of
Great Kesh and the Kingdom, where languages, blood,
and loyalties tended to be mixed. It was a musical sound,
softer than the harsher King's Tongue, but not as guttural
as High Keshian. 'Man, that was the drill, don't you
know? Each time a new group came, we were to give
them bloody hell! Bobby's orders. Not until he knew he
wasn't going to have to hang us did he treat us better
than dirt on the sole of his boot, don't you see? Then we
got to take off the damn ropes, man. Then we began to
think we might live a bit longer.'
Jerome Handy sat across from Erik, the biggest man in
the group after Biggo and broader across the shoulders.
'Jadow and me were among the first six. Four of our mates
died. Two tried to go over the walls, and those Pathfinders
picked them off with their long bows like quails on the
wing.' He made a flying motion with his two hands, as if
throwing shadow puppets on the wall, and made a funny
flapping sound with his mouth. Then suddenly he turned
his hands over and made a sign of a wounded bird falling.
Erik had delighted in discovering that as rough and intimidating
as Handy could be, he also could be very
amusing given anything remotely like an audience. 'One
lost his temper and died in a sword drill. The other . He
glanced at Jadow.

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 243

'Ah, that was bad, man. Roger was his name,' supplied
the Valeman.
'Right. Roger. He was hung when he killed a guard,
trying to escape.'
'How long ago was that?' asked Erik.
'More than a year, man,' said Jadow. He ran a hand
over his bald pate, which he kept free of hair by dry-shaving
with a blade every morning. While most of it was

naturally hairless, the little fringe around the ears was
persistent enough that Erik winced each time he saw the
man give himself a trim.
'A year!' asked Billy Goodwin. 'You've been at that
camp a year?'
Jadow grinned. 'Man, consider the alternative, don't
you see?' He laughed, a deep-throated version of a child's
delight. 'The food was sumptuous, and the company' he
cast a mock-baleful look at Jerome - 'diverting, if
nothing else. And the longer we were there. .
'What?' asked Roo.
It was Biggo who answered. 'The longer they weren't
headed toward wherever it is de Loungville and the Eagle
are taking us.'
'Exactly.'
'You've been playing soldier for a year, then?' asked
Luis.
'More, and I don't call it playing when men die,' said a
man named Peter Bly.
Jerome nodded. 'We thirty are what's left of
seventy-eight who were put through the false hanging
over the last year and a bit.'
Sho Pi said, 'Then this would explain why Corporal
Foster and ... what is Robert de Loungville's real rank when
first I saw him, I took him for a noble - does
anyone know?'
Jerome shook his head. 'Sergeant is all I've ever heard.
But I've seen him give orders to a Knight-Captain of the

i

244

RAYMOND E. FEIST

King's own. He's the second in command, after the elf.'
'Elf?' said Erik.
Luis said, 'What some of the older guards call the Eagle.
It's no joke. They call him that, but there's no disrespect in
it. But they say he's not human.'
'He does look a little odd,' said Roo.
Jerome laughed, and Jadow said, 'Look who's talking
about looking odd!'
All the gathered men laughed and Roo flushed with
embarrassment, waving off the remark. 'I mean, he
doesn't look like the rest of us.'
'No one looks like the rest of us,' said Sho Pi.
'We know what you mean,' said another man whose
name Erik didn't know.
Jadow said, 'I've never been to the west, though my
father fought there against the Tsurani in the Riftwar.
Man, that was some fighting, to hear the old man talk. He
saw some elves at the battle in the valley in the Grey
Towers, when the elves and dwarves betrayed the treaty.
He said the elves are tall and fair, though their hair and
eyes are much like yours, from brown to yellow, don't you
know? Yet he said there is something uncommon about
them, and they carry themselves with a different grace -as
if dancing while the rest of us walk, is what he said to me.'
Sho Pi said, 'the man called Eagle is that. He is one I'd
not wish to face.'
'You?' said Erik. 'You've taken swords out of armed
men's hands. I would have thought you were afraid of no
one.'
'I have taken the sword from an armed man's hands,
Erik. But I never claimed I was fearless when I did so.' His
expression became reflective. 'There is something very
dangerous in the man called Calis.'
'He's stronger than he looks,' said Jerome with a frank
look of embarrassment. 'Early on, in the training, before
he left everything to Bobby de Loungville, that's when

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 245

I thought to bully him and he knocked me down so
hard I thought he'd broken my skull.'
'Too thick, man, much too thick,' said Jadow, and the
others laughed.
'No, I mean it. I pride myself on taking a blow with the
best, but I've never felt anything like it, and I was certainly 
surprised.' He looked at Sho Pi. 'As surprised as I
was when you twisted my thumb that time. Same thing. I
moved, and suddenly I was on my back and my head was
ringing like a temple gong.'
Jadow said, 'He never saw the blow, man. And neither
did I, truth to tell. Calis is fast.'
'He's not human,' said another, and there was general
agreement.
A warning creak on the companionway stairs had the
men scrambling for their bunks before Corporal Foster
was through the hatch. As he touched boot to deck, he
shouted, 'Lights out, ladies! Say good night to your
sweethearts, and get your rest. You've a full day
tomorrow.'
Before Erik could get completely under the woolen
blanket, the lantern was doused, and the hold plunged
into gloom. He lay back and thought what it must have
been like to live in that camp for a year, to see men you
didn't know come in and see them die. Suddenly something
Sho Pi had started to say registered.
Erik whispered. 'Sho Pi?'
'What?'
'What were you about to say, about something explaining
why Foster and de Loungville were doing something
or whatever, when you asked about de Loungville's
rank?'
'I was going to say that having so many men fail, even
after the testing before and during their trials, even after
having the woman read minds, explains why they are so
worried about the six of us.'

246

RAYMOND E. FEIST

'What do you mean?'
'More than half the men saved from the gallose died
before we got to the camp. By rights, three or four of us
you, me, Roo, Billy, Biggo, and Luis - we shouldn't be on
this ship. We should be dead. De Loungville's
chance. Even after all of this, we still might fail.'
Erik said, 'Oh, I see.'
He lay back, and sleep was a long time coming
thought, Fail at what?


ELEVEN

Passage

Erik yawned.
While things were never dull on Trenchard's Revenge,
there were moments of boredom, and this was one. He
had finished his exercises with the other men, who
formed what he now understood was Robert de
Loungville's handpicked band of 'desperate men.' Evening
chow was over, and he felt like some fresh air. While
the others were lounging in their bunks belowdecks, Erik
waited by the fore rail, overlooking the bowsprit, listening
to the sounds of the sea as the ship sped through the
night.
The deck officer called out the hour's orders, and the
lookout above answered that all was clear. Erik smiled at
that. How the man knew all was clear was beyond him,
unless he had some magic device allowing his mortal
eyes to pierce the darkness. What he meant, thought
Erik, was he couldn't see anything.
Yet that wasn't entirely true. There was a sea of stars
above, with the little moon just rising in the east, and the
middle and large moons not due to rise until just before
morning. The familiar pattern of the stars above gave
silver highlights to the water below. A half mile to starboard,
the Freeport Ranger was holding a parallel course,
her presence marked by lights upon her bow, stern, and
masthead. Any other ship in the night should be running
under lights as well, so if they were near, they'd stand
out like a beacon.
'Fascinating, isn't it?'

l~

Erik turned, startled that he hadn't heard anyone approach.
Calis stood a few feet away, gazing at the sky.
I've been on ships any number of times, and when the
moons are down and the stars are like this, it still makes
me pause to watch and wonder.'
Erik didn't know what to say. This man had spoken to
them so rarely, most of the men below were in awe of
him. And de Loungville seemed to take great pains to
keep them in awe of him. Jadow and Jerome's narrative
about him helped further that cause.
Erik said, 'Ah, I was just
'Stay,' said Calis, coming to the rail next to Erik.
'Bobby and Charlie are playing cards, and I thought I'd
get some air. I see I'm not the only one feeling the
need.'
Erik shrugged. 'It gets close down below sometimes.'
'And sometimes a man likes to be alone with his own
thoughts, isn't that true, Erik?'
'Sometimes,' said Erik. Not knowing why, he said,
But I don't dwell much on things. It's not my way. Roo,
now, he worries enough for a whole family, but.
'But what?'
'Maybe it was my mother,' said Erik, suddenly missing
her. 'She was always worried about this or that,
and, well, I never really had much on my mind most of
the time.'
'No ambitions?'
'Just to earn a forge of my own someday.'
Calis nodded, the gesture half seen in the dim light of
a nearby lantern. 'A respectable goal.'
'What of you?' Erik was suddenly embarrassed at his
own presumption, but Calis smiled.
'My goals?' He turned and leaned upon the rail, both
elbows resting on it as he gazed into the darkness. 'It
would be hard to explain.'
Erik said, 'I wasn't trying to pry ... sir.'

248        RAYMOND E. FEIST           I           SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN  249

Calis said, 'Start calling me Captain, Erik. Bobby's our
sergeant and Charlie's the corporal, and you're part of
the Crimson Eagles, the most feared mercenary band in
our homeland.'
'Sir?' said Erik. 'I don't understand.'
Calis said, 'You will, soon enough.' Looking at the
horizon, he said, 'We'll be there shortly.'
'Where, sir ... Captain?'
'Sorcerer's Isle. I need to speak to an old friend.'
Erik stood silently, uncertain what to do or say next,

until Calis relieved him of that burden. 'Why don't you
go below and join your companions,' he suggested.
'Yes, Captain,' said Erik and started to move, but stopped. '
Ah, Captain, should I salute you or something?'
With a strange smile, what Owen Greylock called
ironic, Erik thought, Calis said, 'We're mercenaries, not
the bloody army, Erik.'
Erik nodded and turned away. Shortly he was back in
his bunk. While Jadow regaled the others with tales of
women he had known and battles he had single-handedly
won, Erik lay half listening, half wondering just
what Calis had meant.

'Captain!'
Erik paused as he secured a line. The sound of the
lookout's voice had carried a troubling note with it.
'What do you see?' came the Captain's reply.
'Something dead ahead, sir. Lights or lightning. I don't
rightly know.'
Erik quickly made the line fast and turned to look
ahead. It was near dusk, but the sun off the port bow
made it hard to see anything. He squinted against the
sunset glare, then saw it: a faint flash of silver.
Roo came to stand next to his friend. 'What is it?'
'Lightning, I think,' said Erik.
'Great. A storm at sea,' said Roo. It had been pleasant

250        RAYMOND E. FEIST

sailing for almost a month as they had fought a tacking
course out of Krondor toward their destination. One of
the sailors had said that had they been heading the other
way, they could have made the trip in one third the time.
'You boys got nothing to do?' came a familiar voice
from behind them, and Erik and Roo were back up the
rigging before Corporal Foster could inform Mr Collins
that they needed to be assigned more work.
Reaching the top yard on the mainmast, they began
securing lines that really didn't need securing. They
wanted a look at the coming storm.
As the sun lowered beyond the horizon, there were no
clouds ahead, but they could clearly see arcs of incredible
brightness. 'What is that?' asked Roo.
'Nothing good,' said Erik, and he started making his
way back down toward the deck.
'Where are you going?'
'To report to Mr Collins I've secured the lines and to
get orders. No sense staring at whatever's ahead, Roo.
We'll get there soon enough.'
Roo hung back, watching as the bright arcs reappeared
against the darkening sky, silver bolts that arched into
the heavens. He imagined they carried thunderous
booms or sizzling discharges, but from this distance they
were silent. He felt chilled, yet the evening air was warm.
He glanced down and saw that half the crew was straining
to see what was ahead.
He lingered a moment, then headed down after his
friend.

Throughout the night they drew closer to Sorcerer's Isle.
Near dawn the first of the cracking sounds that accompanied
the energy displays could be heard. By the time the day
watch was to be roused, no man on the ship was asleep.
Word of their destination had circulated through the
crew, though Erik had told no one what Calis had told

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 25I

him. Sorcerer's Isle, home to the legendary Black Sorcerer.
Some called him Macros, while others said his name
was a Tsurani one, and still others said he was the King of
Dark Magic. No one knew the truth, Erik decided, but
everyone who spoke knew of someone who knew someone
who had talked to another who had barely survived a
visit to the island.
Terrible stories of mayhem and horrors so vile that
death was the least of them were passed around between
sundown and dawn, so by the time Erik and his

companions came up on deck, the mood of the ship was
fearful.
Erik almost exclaimed at the sight that greeted him. An
island lay off the starboard bow, large enough that it
would take hours to sail around, and dominated by a high
wall of cliffs. Atop the highest point of that cliff face, a
black castle - a malignant-looking thing of four towers
and stone walls - rose high against the sky. it sat atop a
massive stone chimney, an upthrust finger of land, separated
from the rest of the island by tidal action, which had
cut a cleft as impassable as any moat. A drawbridge could
be lowered to cross the cleft, but it was presently raised.
The castle was the source of the terrible arcs of energy,
silver flashes that rose high into the sky, vanishing in the
clouds, accompanied by a sizzling whine that hurt the ears.
Blue lights shone from a high tower window overlooking
the ocean, and Erik thought he detected movement
upon the walls. 'Yon Darkmoor!' Robert de Loungville's
voice brought the young smith out of his revery.
'Sergeant?' said Erik.
'You, Biggo, Jadow, and Jerome will come with Calis
and me. Get the longboat over the side.'
Erik and the others named, aided by four experienced
sailors, got the longboat off the davits and over the side
in quick order. Calis came up on deck and without a
word to anyone scampered down the ladder to the boat.
De Loungville and two sailors came next, then Erik led
the designated prisoners.
As Erik reached the rail, he was handed a sword and
scabbard and a shield by Corporal Foster. He slung the
baldric over his shoulder, secured the shield to his back,
and went down the ladder. This was the first time he had
been handed a weapon when it wasn't a training
exercise, and it made him nervous.
The boat pushed away from the ship and headed
toward a small beach that swept away from the rocky
pinnacle upon which the castle rested. The sailors were
experienced, and Erik and Biggo were strong, so the boat
made quick time getting in to shore.
When they landed, Calis said, 'Keep alert. You never
know what to expect here.'
Robert de Loungville nodded, a wry smile on his face.
'That's the gods' awful truth.'
Suddenly a figure reared up out of the bushes near the
top of an overlooking ridge, beside a small path that led
up from the beach. The creature was easily ten or eleven
feet tall, clothed in black and waving long arms within
huge sleeves. A spectral voice issued from within a giant
cowl, hiding the creature's face. 'Despair, All who
trespass upon the Black One's island are doomed! Flee
now, or be destroyed in agony!'
Erik felt the hairs rise on his neck and arms. Biggo
made a sign warding off evil, while Jadow and Jerome
both drew their swords and crouched low.
Calis stood motionless, while Robert de Loungville
pointed a thumb at the creature with a backwards wave
of his hand. 'I think he means it,' he said with a grin.
Facing the advancing creature, de Loungville said,
W
why don't you come on down here, me darling, and I'll
give you a big wet kiss.'
Erik's eyebrows shot up, and Calis smiled at his friend.
The creature tilted, as if the brashness of de Loungville's

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN  253

words caused it to lose its balance; then Erik was astonished
to see it collapse.
He saw long wooden sticks fall within the hooded robe,
and a small man emerged from inside the folds of black
cloth. He was a bandy-legged fellow, obviously an Isalani
from his appearance, and he wore a tattered robe of
orange cloth, slashed at the knees and sleeves. 'Bobby?'
he said. Then his face split in a grin and he let out a yelp
of pure joy. 'Calis" He raced down to the sand and almost

leaped into de Loungville's arms. Erik thought the two
men daft as they slapped each other on the back.
Calis embraced the little man. 'That's quite a show you
have going there, Nakor.'
The little man's face split into a grin, and suddenly Erik
realized that he was standing with his sword drawn,
while his heart was still beating rapidly. He glanced
around and saw the others were also holding their
weapons ready.
The man called Nakor said, 'Had some trouble with
some Quegan pirates a few years back. That little blue
light didn't scare them away, so I added those lightning
bolts. Impressive, I think,' he added with a self-congratulatory
note. 'It starts whenever someone gets
close enough to see the island on the horizon. But
when you kept sailing toward us, I thought I had better
come down here and scare you away.' He pointed to the
fallen contraption of robe and sticks.
'The Black Sorcerer?' said Robert.
'For the time being,' answered Nakor with a grin. He
glanced at the four guards and said, 'Tell your men I
won't hurt them.'
Calis turned and. with a wave of his hand, said, 'put
your weapons away. He's an old friend.'
'Where's Pug?' asked De Loungville.
'Gone,' said Nakor with a shrug. 'Left about three years
ago. Said he'd be back one of these days.'

l~

254        RAYMOND E. FEIST

'Do you know where he went?' asked Calis. 'It's very
important.'
Nakor shrugged. 'It's always important with Pug.
That's why he left, I think. All the troubles down south
'You know?' said Calis.
Nakor grinned. 'Some. You can tell me the rest. You
want something hot to eat?'
Calis motioned yes, and Nakor waved for them to
follow. Calis told the two sailors, 'Take the boat back to
the ship and tell the captain he's to do as I instructed.
And have him send word to the Ranger, as well.' To Erik
and the other three guards he said, 'Follow along, and
don't be alarmed by anything you see. There are some
very odd-looking creatures about, but none will offer you
harm.'
The little man named Nakor led Calis and de
Loungville up the path. Erik and the others followed
behind. They reached the crest of the ridge, but rather
than follow the path toward the castle, they paused.
Nakor closed his eyes and waved his hand in the air, and
the lightning suddenly stopped. He put his hand to his
forehead a moment, then said, 'Oh, shutting that off
gives me a headache.' Then he turned and led them all
down another path that led into what appeared to be a
small valley overgrown by a thick forest.
Then suddenly the forest vanished, and Erik almost
tripped, he was so startled. Instead of thick woodlands,
he was now staring at a pasture that stretched away for
nearly a mile. In the middle of it sat a large, sprawling
estate, a low, white house with a red tile roof, and several
outbuildings, all surrounded by a low stone wall.
In distant fields, Erik could make out horses and cattle,
and what might be deer or elk. Around the estate, figures
moved, but they didn't appear to be entirely human. But,
keeping in mind Calis's instructions, he decided to trust
his leader and follow orders.

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 255

They reached the small yard before the main house
and Nakor opened the gate in the low stone wall. They
entered, and from the door of the house a creature appeared.
Erik glanced at Jadow, Jerome, and Biggo, and
judging by their expressions, all were as astonished
as he.
The creature was tall, man-size, and had blue-tinged
skin, large ears, and a bony, heavy forehead. It smiled,

revealing an impressive array of teeth; its eyes were
black and yellow. Erik wasn't sure, but the creature resembled
every description of a goblin Erik had ever
heard.
But it was dressed in the height of court fashion: a
tight-fitting blue jacket cut at the waist, over a loose,
billowing-sleeved white shirt, tucked into a wide waistband
of black silk. Tight grey hose and ankle-high boots
finished the ensemble, and the creature looked like
nothing so much as one of Prince Nicholas's court
dandies.
'Refreshments are served,' said the creature.
'Gathis,' Calis greeted it.
'Master Calis,' replied Gathis. 'It's so nice to see you
again. It has been too long between visits. And Master
Robert. Good to see you as well.'
Calis said, 'Did Pug leave you in charge, Nakor?'
With a squint-eyed grin, the little man said, 'No,
Gathis runs everything. I'm still just a guest.'
Calis shook his head. 'Guest? For what, twenty years
now?'
Nakor shrugged. 'Lots of things to discuss. Lots of
things to study. Let those fools in Stardock become constipated
with their rules and vows of secrecy and orders
and the rest of that foolishness.' He made a chopping
motion with his hand. 'This is where the real learning is
taking place.'
Calis said, 'No doubt.'

256        RAYMOND E. FEIST

Gathis said, 'I'll see to your guards, sir.'
Calis and Robert went inside, followed by Nakor. The
creature turned to Erik and the others and said, 'You men
follow me.'
He led them around the building, and Erik was surprised
to discover that it was larger than he had first
suspected as they had walked down the path from the
ridge above. The building was, essentially, a large square,
with entrances in all four walls. Through one they
passed, Erik could see that the building was also hollow
in the center, a large fountain at the heart of a garden
glimpsed briefly as they walked past.
Behind the building, a pair of very odd-looking men,
black as soot and with eyes of red, hurried by, and as the
four guards turned to gawk, Gathis said, 'Come along,
please.' He led them to the door of a large outbuilding
and motioned for them to follow him inside. 'You'll see
many beings here you might count strange or fearsome,
but none will offer you harm.'
That was again reassuring to hear, because within the
building they found what could only be called, in Erik's
judgment, a demon. Jadow had his sword half out of his
scabbard when the creature turned and struck him across
the knuckles with a long wooden spoon. 'Put that away,'
it said with a deep rumbling growl.
Jadow let out a yelp and released the sword hilt, letting
the sword slide back into its scabbard. 'That hurt!' he
exclaimed while sucking on his bruised knuckles.
'Don't talk with your mouth full,' admonished the
creature, motioning for the four guards to sit at a table.
Erik paused and realized he was in a kitchen. The
'demon' was a red creature, about as big as Jerome,
looking as if its skin was two or three sizes too large. It
seemed to droop around the creature's body in folds and
creases, and to be thick, like hide. A large head without
hair was dominated by two horns, which rose in front of

I
SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 257

fanlike ears, to arch back to points just behind the head.
It appeared to be nude, save for the large white apron it
wore. Pulling a big bowl of fruit from a shelf, it placed it
upon the table and said, 'I'll have soup in a minute.'
Gathis said, 'Alika will care for your needs and send
someone with you to show you where you'll sleep.'As the
cook crossed to the other side of the room, Gathis lowered
his voice. 'She's very sensitive, so say something nice
about her cooking.' Then he hurried off.

Biggo said, 'She?' in low tones. Jadow grinned and
shrugged, taking a large pear from the platter and biting
deep into it. He closed his eyes as juice dripped down his
chin, and made a satisfied sound.
Now Erik noticed the smells. Suddenly he was ravenous
as hot spices filled the air, and he remembered what food
not cooked aboard ship tasted like. He took an apple and
bit into it, finding it crisp and sweet, and savoring the taste.
Then Alika was back with a large platter of bread and
cheese. Placing them on the table, she turned away. Erik
hesitated briefly before he said, 'Thank you.'
The creature paused and rumbled, 'You're welcome.'
Soon the four men were eating as well as they had back
in camp, with far more leisure, as the cook produced a
thick soup of creamed vegetables with spices, a full roast
chicken for each man, and steaming greens piled high,
buttered, and spiced. Ale, cold and foaming in pewter
mugs, was placed at each man's elbow, and Erik hadn't
recalled drinking anything quite so thirst-quenching.
Between mouthfuls, Biggo said, 'I don't think I would
have believed any man who told me of this place and these
creatures.'
Jadow said, 'Man, it's far easier to imagine evil spirits
and black sorcery than this.
'.And you say the creature could cook?"' he mimicked
someone questioning him.
"Ya, man, she cooked better than me own mother,"'

I

l~

258        RAYMOND E. FEIST

The others laughed. Jerome said, 'I wonder why we
came here?'
'Wondering's not good for the health,' said Jadow.
Jerome said, 'One thing we learned in camp. You
follow orders, you stay alive. Don't volunteer, don't
cause trouble. Each day after the gallows is a gift.'
Erik nodded. He still had trouble not wincing when
he remembered that fall with the rope around his neck.
The sour taste of fear in his stomach was one he wished
never to repeat.
The cook came back with more bread and Biggo said,
'Alika?'
The cook paused. 'Yes?'
'Ah, what are you?'
The creature fixed Biggo with a narrow gaze, as if
weighing the nature of the question, then she replied,
'A student. I work for my instruction.'
'No, I mean, where are you from?'
'Targary.'
'I've never heard of Targary,' said Jadow.
'It is far away,' she said, turning back to her work.
They ate in silence after that.
When they finished, a young girl, no more than ten
or eleven by her appearance, but with grey hair and
maroon eyes, escorted them to a room. In a voice tinged
with alien nuances, she said, 'Sleep here. Water there.
If
She pointed at a basin and pitcher. 'Relieve yourself
outside,' she said, making a general down-the-hall and
out-the-door gesture. 'You need. You call. I come.'
She bowed and departed. Biggo said, 'I swear that
child's feet weren't touching the ground.'
Erik removed his baldric and sat on the nearest bed, a
thickly padded feather mattress with two pillows and a
heavy comforter against the chill. 'I am through with
being amazed.' He lay down with an exaggerated
stretch. 'This is the first bed I've been in . . .' He stopped

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 259

and grinned at his friends. 'This is the first bed I've
been in!'
Biggo laughed. 'You've never slept in a bed?'
'With my mother, when I was a baby, I guess, but I've
been sleeping in the hayloft as long as I can recall, then

prison, the camp, and the ship.'
'Well, enjoy, Erik von Darkmoor,' said Jerome as he
lay down on his bunk. 'I plan on sleeping until someone
makes me get up to work.' With that he closed his eyes
and raised his arm to cover his face.
'Man, that is a fine notion,' said Jadow.
Erik and Biggo followed suit, and soon the room was
silent, save for the sounds of heavy breathing and
snoring.

Erik awoke to the sound of voices. Sitting up, he was
disoriented for a moment, then remembered where he
was. The voices were coming through a window, one
that looked out upon the garden.
The familiar voice of Robert de Loungville carried
through the night as he and someone else approached.
. . never seen him like this before.'
'He has a great deal on his mind,' said another; Erik
recognized the speaker as being their host, Nakor.
'He took that last mission hard. We've had setbacks
before, but nothing like that. If he hadn't carried me half
the way, I'd have died on the banks of the Vedra River. Of
the two thousand of us who went, only sixty returned.'
'Ah, I had heard it was difficult.'
'Whatever you heard, it was worse.'
Erik felt awkward. He didn't think it was proper to
eavesdrop, but this was the room he had been assigned
and Nakor and Robert weren't taking pains not to be
overheard.
'I hear this and I hear that,' said Nakor, and Erik could
tell they had stopped moving.

260        RAYMOND E. FEIST

'It was the biggest battle so far. Calis put us in with
Haji's Red Hawks and a half-dozen other companies that
usually work out of the Eastlands. We joined up with the
other defenders at Kisma-hal, a town between Hamsa
and Kilbar. Ran into the Westland army skirmishes as we
beat them back. Then their leading elements rolled
through us and drove to the gates of the city. We fortified
the garrison and beat back three assaults on the walls,
and we sallied a few times, burning their baggage train
and causing them a great deal of pain. Then the second
wave of Westland infantry showed up and we were
surrounded.
'Two hundred and sixty-five days of siege, Nakor. And
those damn magicians. Nothing like those Tsurani during
the Riftwar were supposed to have done, but enough to
make a man hate all magic. The King of Hamsa's
magicians barely kept us free of most of the worst, the
lightning, fires, the freezing spells. But they couldn't
protect us from the rest, and it was almost as bad: flies
and mosquitoes in clouds appearing out of nowhere.
Every barrel of wine in the city turned sour. After the
first hundred and fifty days, we ate hard bread and drank
foul water and we survived. After two hundred, we ate
maggots in green meat, and we ate insects when we
could find them and were thankful. We were close to
eating our dead.
'Then, when the city surrendered, Calis took the head
start rather than sell out the contract and join the invaders.'
Erik heard bitterness in Robert's tone. 'Half our
men were injured or sick. Half of those still living, I
should say. We got our one day's grace; then they turned
their cavalry after us. If we had headed south along the
river, they'd have run us down for certain. We turned
east and hid.' Robert was silent for a time, then when
he spoke again, Erik could hear the barely held-back
emotions in his voice, as if he had never told the story to

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 26I

anyone before. 'We killed our own wounded rather than
leave them behind. As it was, the rest of us barely made it
to the steppes. The Jeshandi covered our retreat from
there, and the snakes were smart enough not to get into a
running fight with them in their own territory. The
Jeshandi fed us and nursed us, and we eventually got back
to the City of the Serpent River.'
Nakor said,'I remember the first visit, twenty-four years
ago.' There was a moment of silence. 'Calis was very
young then. He still is, by the measure of his race. Now he

has much responsibility, and lacks Arutha or Nicholas at
his side to instruct him.
'And now you plan this very dangerous thing.'
'Desperate thing,' said Robert de Loungville. 'It was a
long time in the planning, and getting the right men for
the job was harder than we thought.'
'These men, these 'desperate men," they will be able to
do this where so many experienced soldiers could not?'
There was another long silence. De Loungville finally
said, 'I don't know, Nakor. I don't know.'
Erik heard the sounds of the two men walking away and
after a moment he could hear them speaking again,
though he couldn't understand what they were saying.
Erik lay awake a long time trying to puzzle out the
significance of what he had overheard. He had never
heard of those places, Hamsa or Kilbar, and didn't know
who the Jeshandi were. But there was a note in de
Loungville's voice he had never heard before. It was an
overtone of worry, perhaps even fear. Erik found sleep
came slowly, and when it at last found him, he didn't rest
well.

Nakor, carrying a travel bag slung over his shoulder, was
waiting with Calis when Robert de Loungville called Erik
and the others out of their room. The four guards said
nothing but fell in behind Calis and the others.
2622        RAYMOND E. FEIST

Nakor kept up a nearly nonstop narrative of some of
the things he had been involved in since the last time
Calis and de Loungville had visited. From what Erik
overheard, it sounded as if Nakor and Calis had known
each other for a very long time. Erik remembered
Nakor's having said something the night before about a
visit somewhere with Calis twenty-four years earlier,
which hardly seemed possible to Erik, as Calis didn't look
much older than twenty-four. Then Erik remembered
what Nakor said about 'his race,' meaning Calis's, and
then the other remarks made in camp about Calis not
being human.
Erik was so caught up in these reflections he hardly
noticed when they climbed out of the vale and crested
the ridge. He was surprised to see that the beach was
covered with men, his own shipmates and the full company
of soldiers who had been aboard the Freeport Ranger.
They stood quietly waiting on the sand. Erik recognized a
few faces from the Ranger's company as guards who had
served at the camp, but now they were dressed in all
fashion of clothing, in the same manner as the Revenge's
company.
De Loungville motioned for Erik and the others to go
over and stand next to their shipmates and he mounted
an outcropping of rock next to the trail, so he could look
down on the men. 'Listen up!' he shouted.
Calis took his place on the rock and said, 'Some of you
know me well, and others here have never spoken with
me. Most of you know by now who I am, or think you
do.' He glanced from face to face. 'I am called Calis. I
serve Prince Nicholas, as I did his father before. Some call
me the Eagle of Krondor, or the Prince's Bird of Prey.' He
seemed amused by these titles.
-twenty-four years ago a great raid was launched
against the Far Coast. Some here might remember the
destruction of Crydee, Carse, and Tulan.'

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 263

A few of the older soldiers from the Ranger nodded.
-those events led us to travel halfway around the
world, to the land called Novindus.'
None of the men from the Ranger said anything, but
Erik's company looked at one another amid a few muttered
questions.
'Quiet, now!' commanded de Loungville.
'What we found down there was a plot to destroy the
Kingdom.'
Again there was some stirring among the men from

Trenchard's Revenge, but no one spoke.
Calis continued. 'Twice since, I have traveled to this far
land, the last time with some of you.'
The men from Trenchard's Revenge, almost to a man,
turned to regard the guards from the compound,
veterans from many different garrisons around the Kingdom.
Those looked at Calis with a steady gaze, as if they
understood exactly what was being said.
'So you who weren't with us know, I'll tell you a few
things. Ten years ago word reached Prince Arutha that a
great army was massing in that part of Novindus called
the Westlands. That army swept down from an unknown
place along the shore of an ocean they call the
Green Sea. The first city to fall was Point Piint. In this
land there is nothing like our Kingdom Army. Cities
may have militia, but most fighting is done by mercenary
companies. There are rules of conduct and established
protocols for how they are treated by those who
are victorious in warfare. The conquerors gave the
defenders of the city called Point Piint the choice of
serving or one day's grace to withdraw. That is normal,
but what wasn't normal was that every man in the city
was ordered to serve under arms or watch his wife and
children, mother and father impaled before his eyes.
After the first executions, the entire male population of
the city joined that army.

'They then marched on the city of Irabek, and after
bitter fighting it fell. Then Port Sulth, then all the towns
along the Manstra River.'
Erik had never heard of any of these places, but he
listened, fascinated.
'From Point Piint they launched an invasion along
the river Dee, seeking to enter the area known as the
Midlands, and they were unopposed until reaching the
foothills of the Ratn'gary mountains. Dwarves - much like
the race who live in the west of the Kingdom - turned
them back for three years. At last this army of invaders
threw up a stable frontier of fortifications and sought
another way across Novindus.
'They came through the Forest of Irabek, darker and
more fearful than our own Green Heart. They died in
numbers getting through, but at last they did and then
they struck the city of Hamsa. The King of Hamsa warred
for five years with this army and hired mercenaries from
as far away as the City of the Serpent River at the other end
of the continent. We have dealings with this city, which is
how we came to hear of this invading army.'
Calis paused. 'Prince Arutha suspected who was behind
this invasion and sent agents to discover if he was correct.
of thirty men, one returned, barely alive, and confirmed
our worst fears.
'Six years ago I was given command of two thousand
men and sent to bolster the defenses of the city of Hamsa.'
Every man listening to Calis was motionless. Only the
sound of waves breaking on the rocks below the castle and
the cries of seabirds broke the silence.
'There is a race of creatures who live somewhere on
Novindus. Some of you may have heard of them as
creatures of legend. They are called the Pantathians.'
Erik turned to look at his companions, and saw Jadow
make a sign against evil. The Pantathians were called the
Snakes Who Walk Like Men and were creatures of lore
Dconjured up to frighten children into behaving. Unlike
trolls and goblins, who were natural creatures living in
the distant wilds of the frontier, the serpent men were
legends, like dragons and centaurs, and no one believed
them real.
As if reading Erik's mind, Calis said, 'These are not
legends. I have faced them, and so have these men over
here.' He motioned to the company from the Freeport
Ranger. 'You aboard Trenchard's Revenge will have the
opportunity along the way to talk to these men, your
former guards, and to get the benefit of their knowledge.

They can tell you from bitter experience how all too real
the Pantathians are.
'Two thousand men in ten ships went south to
Novindus to battle the enemy as far from home as we
might, and only sixty men came home. If you want the
full story, there are others who will tell it. Of that sixty,
the fifty-eight still living are here.'
Looking directly at Erik for a moment, then at the
other former prisoners around him, he went on. 'Less
than one in twenty who went before returned, and now,
five years after returning home, we go to find these
invaders again.
'Only this time they are more powerful, more entrenched,
and more aware of our part. Each town they
conquer joins with them or dies, and when Hamsa fell, of
six thousand defenders, four thousand swore oaths to the
invaders.
-those mercenaries who would not were given a day's
truce before they were hunted down.
'This army means to conquer all of Novindus. More, it
means to sail here, to the Kingdom, and conquer us after.
'Some of you might think that such chaos would be
your perfect chance to escape.'
Erik glanced around and saw that more than one
expression confirmed Calis's remark.

I

266        RAYMOND E. FEIST

'If YOU attempt to leave without permission, at any                             
point along our line of march, Robert de Loungville and I                   
will personally hang you from the nearest tree.                                  
'If you manage to escape, know that you are living on                      
stolen time, for eventually that army will reach any part                        
of Novindus you may hide in and you will serve or you                       
will die.                                
Why chance dying now rather than later?'                                  
He was silent as the men thought on his question.                          
'Because,' answered Calis, 'these creatures, these serpent                  
men, will not end at conquest. They will eventually destroy 
everything, and you will die.'       
There was a bit of muttering at this, and to Calis's                       
surprise it was Nakor who spoke next.     

The bandy-legged little man said, 'You foolish men!                        
listen to me! I have seen what these creatures do.                               
They sought to send a plague to us nearly twenty-five                       
years ago. They sought to kill everything in the                                 
Kingdom.'                                
Jerome made bold to speak. 'Why would any creature                              
do such a thing?'                        
Nakor shrugged. 'I could tell you, but I scarcely think

you'd understand.'                       
Jerome, whose temper was as bad as Luis's, narrowed                        
his gaze at the Isalani. 'I may have to take abuse from my                       
officers, little man, but I'm not as stupid as you might                         
think. If you speak slowly enough, I just might understand.'                                  
Nakor glanced at Calis, who nodded. Nakor said, 'Very                      
well. The Pantathians are not natural beings.' When                         
Jerome Handy gave him a puzzled look, Nakor said, 'I'll                     
speak slowly.'                           
Some of the men laughed, but it was a nervous laugh.                       
Calis said, 'Continue.'                   
'There was, ages ago on this world, a race called the
i     
Dragon Lords.'                           
Some of the men made signs against evil and others
scoffed openly. 'Legends!' shouted one.
'Yes,' said Calis. 'Legends, but based upon history.
Those beings once ruled this world.
'And one of them, a powerful member of her race,
created the Pantathians as her servants. They are an
ancient race, raised up by this Dragon Lord from serpents 
in the swamps of Novindus. Artificial they may
have been in their beginning, but they were bred to
serve this one. She was called Alma-Lodaka.
'When the Dragon Lords vanished, this race 'oftwisted creatures believed that they were to abide until
her return. By means I will not reveal, they have
found a way to call her back from the place she
resides.
'The unfortunate consequence of such an act would
be to destroy all life on this world.'
'No,' said several men. 'That can't be possible,'
said another.
'Possible?' asked Nakor. 'What is possible?' He
reached into his sack and drew out an orange. He tossed
it to Jerome. Then he took out another and threw it to
Erik, and another to another man. After a few minutes,
at least a score of oranges came out of the sack.
Calis said, 'I thought it was apples?'
'I went back to oranges a few years ago,' said
Nakor as he kept pulling more and more oranges out of the little
sack. He held up the sack and showed everyone that it
was empty, even turning it inside out. Then he reached
in and drew more oranges out and started throwing
them to the other soldiers, until more than five dozen
oranges had come out of that small sack. 'Possible?' he
asked.
He walked up to Jerome Handy, looked up at the big
man, and said, 'Do you think it possible that I
could force you to your knees with one hand?'

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 267

268

RAYMOND E. FEIST

Jerome's eyes narrowed and his complexion flushed,
and he said, 'No, I don't!' Erik cleared his throat, and
when Jerome turned to look, Erik nodded once toward
Sho Pi, who stood behind him. Jerome saw the other
Isalani raise a questioning eyebrow; then he turned to
Nakor and stared at him for a long moment. Lowering his
voice, he said, 'But maybe you could do it with two
hands.'
Nakor glanced over at Sho Pi and grinned. Turning
away, he said, 'Only need one.'
To the assembled company he said, 'Take it on faith,
you desperate men. This the Pantathians can do: they
can end life as we know it on this world. No bird will sing
to greet the dawn, and no insect will buzz from flower to
flower. No seed will take root. No child will cry for his
mother's breast, and no thing that crawls, walks, or flies
will survive.'
A young man Erik didn't know well, David Gefflin,
said, 'Why would they do such a mad thing?'
'Because they think this Dragon Lord, this Alma Lodaka,
is a goddess. A powerful being she was, but
no goddess. Yet to these sick creatures, whom she
created from snakes, she was. Their Mother-Goddess
they call her. And they believe that to return her to this
lifeless world will bring them into a state of grace with
her, that she will make them first among all the new
creatures she creates. So they believe and so they act.
And this is why they must be opposed.'
'How can they do this?' asked Billy Goodwin.
'How we will not say,' answered Calis. 'We will only
say that the King and a few others know this secret. No
others need know. All we need know is that it is our job
to stop them.'
'How?' demanded Biggo. 'You lost almost two
thousand men, and from what you've said, their army is
now twice the size of the one you faced.'

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 269

Calis looked around. 'Because we don't travel to
Novindus to face this conquering army, Biggo. We travel
to Novindus to join it.'

l~

i

I

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 27I

TWELVE

Arrival

Erik winced.
The roundhouse kick Nakor caught him with had been
pulled, but it still stung.
'You still charge like a mad bull,' scolded the Isalani.
His face was like wrinkled leather, but his eyes showed a
youthful merriment. Sho Pi watched closely as his older
countryman spun again, unexpectedly. Erik moved just
in time to keep from getting kicked in the chest again,
and snapped off a kick of his own, coming quickly back to
a defensive position.
'Why!' shouted Nakor, scolding. 'Why did you draw
back?'
Erik blew out hard, sucking in air as perspiration
poured from his face and body. bluffing, he said, 'Because . . .
I would have been . . . off balance. That
kick ... was to get you to back off ... not to hurt you. If I
had followed up, you would have broken my neck.'
Nakor grinned, and once more Erik was struck by how
this strange man, aboard their ship for less than a month
now, had come to be so liked by everyone. He told
outrageous stories, almost certainly all lies, and his habit
of winning consistently at cards caused Erik to think him
probably a cheat as well. But if a liar and cheat could be
said to be trusted, Nakor was.
Sho Pi came to stand next to Nakor. 'It is wise to know
when to regroup, just as it is wise to know when to
press.' He bowed, and Erik returned the bow. At first, like
the others, he had thought all the rituals strange, and

had mocked them, but now, also like the others, he
performed them without thought. In fact, he now
admitted -to himself that the rituals helped keep him
focused.
'Master -'began Sho Pi.
'I tell you again, boy, don't call me master,'
The men laughed. Sho Pi had decided at some point
during the week following Nakor's arrival that Nakor
was the master he had been sent to find. This had
brought a consistent stream of denial from Nakor that

was now in its third week. At least once in every conversation,
Sho Pi called Nakor master and Nakor demanded
he stop.
Sho Pi ignored the instruction. 'I think we should
show the men shi-to-ku.'
Nakor shook his head. 'You show them. I'm tired. I'm
going to go over there and eat an orange.'
Erik flexed his left shoulder, stiff from the blow to his
chest. Sho Pi noticed. 'That is bothering you?'
Erik nodded. 'Caught me here,' he said, pointing to
just below his right pectoral muscle, 'but I can feel it all
the way through to my neck and elbow. My shoulder is
tightening.'
'Then come here,' said Sho Pi.
Nakor watched and nodded as Sho Pi indicated Erik
should kneel. He made a gesture with his right hand,
then laid his hands upon Erik's shoulder. Erik's eyes
widened as he felt heat flowing from Sho Pi's hands.
The throbbing in his shoulder quickly diminished. As he
knelt there, Erik said, 'What are you doing?'
Sho Pi said, 'In my homeland it is known as reiki.
There is healing energy in the body. It is what helps you
recover from injuries and disease.'
As the heat loosened the bruised muscle, Erik said,
'Can you teach me to do this?'
'It takes a great deal of time -'began Sho Pi.

272

i

i

RAYMOND E. FEIST

'Ha!' shouted Nakor. Moving from the rail, he tossed a
half-eaten orange over the side and said, 'More monastic
mumbo-jumbo! Reiki is no mystic meditation; there is no
prayer. It's a natural thing. Anyone can do it!'
Sho Pi smiled slightly as Nakor waved him aside.
Standing over Erik, he said, 'You want to do this?'
Erik said, 'Yes.'
Nakor said, 'Give me your right hand.'
Erik held it out, and Nakor turned it over, palm up. He
closed his eyes and made some signs, then slapped Erik's
hand, hard. Erik felt his eyes water from the unexpected
blow. 'What did you do that for?' he demanded.
'Wakes up the energies. Now, hold your hand here.'
Nakor moved Erik's hand to his shoulder. Erik felt the
same heat flowing from his own hand he had felt from
Sho Pi's. 'Without prayer or meditation, it flows,' instructed
Nakor. 'It's always on, so whatever you touch
you will heal. Now I will show you what to touch.' To
Sho Pi he said, 'I can teach these men to use the power in
two days, boy. None of your mystic nonsense. The
temples claim this is magic, but it isn't even a good trick.
It's just that most people are too stupid to know they
have the power or how to use it.'
Sho Pi looked at Nakor and feigned a serious expression,
 but his eyes were amused. 'Yes, Master.'
'And don't call me master!' shouted Nakor.
He instructed the men to circle around and began
talking about the body's natural healing energies. Erik
was fascinated. He thought back to those horses he had
treated, the ones who should have gotten better but
didn't, and the ones that recovered from injuries against
any reasonable expectation of success, and he wondered
how much of it was their spirit.
'This energy is made of the stuff of life,' said Nakor. 'I
think you are not stupid men, but you are also men who
do not care much for those things I find so fascinating, so

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 273

I will not try to explain to you what I think this stuff of
life is. Leave it to say that this energy is everywhere, in all
things living.'
Calis came up on deck and caught Nakor's eyes. Some

thing passed between them as Nakor said, 'All living
things are connected.' Erik glanced back at where Roo
sat, and noticed his friend had also caught the exchange.
. Nakor went on to explain about how the body can heal
itself, but that most people don't know how to accept
their own power. He demonstrated a few things the men
needed to know to take full advantage of the reiki where
best to place their hands to achieve the desired
effect, how to identify different types of injury and illness
- but the energy seemed always to be there whenever
they touched themselves or one another after Nakor had
,awakened the power' in their hands.
By midday all the men had been slapped on the hand
and had spent hours practicing healing energies on one
another. Nakor and Sho Pi had led them through a series
of exercises designed to help them identify the sources of
common problems and how to recognize the flow of
energies in another's body. At the midday meal the men
were joking about this laying hands on one another, but
they were also obviously impressed at the ability of this
simple act to relieve aches and reduce swelling and generally
make them feel better.
After lunch, Erik and Roo were sent aloft, relieving
sailors on the day watch so they could eat. Securing a sail
that the Captain had ordered reefed as the wind
freshened, Roo said, 'What do you think of all that?'
Erik said, 'What Nakor said: it's a useful tool. I don't
care a fig for what Sho Pi says about its being a mystic
thing. It works; I'll use it.' With a near-wistful note in his
voice, he added, 'I wish I had known about it when I was
tending Greylock's mare. It would have made her come
back faster, I think.'

274        RAYMOND E. FEIST

Roo said, 'I think anything we know that can keep us
healthy is good.'
Erik nodded. There was a grim reluctance among the
men to consider the eventual end of their journey. After
Calis had announced his intention to take them to join
this invading host, he had briefly outlined their mission.
They would land a small party on a beach below a cliff
where ships did not normally pass. The thirty-six prisoners
and fifty-eight survivors of the last campaign, with
Foster, de Loungville, Nakor, and Calis, would climb this
cliff face. Once atop the plateau, they would travel overland
to meet some allies of Calis's, then move to intercept
the invaders at a city called Khaipur. Their mission was to
discover what weakness, if any, existed in this host, and
Calis and Nakor would be the ones likely to understand
what that would be. But when it was discovered what
that weakness might be, then it was every man's duty to
return to the City of the Serpent River with the information,
to get back to Trenchard's Revenge, and get the critical
intelligence back to Prince Nicholas.
if they could contrive a way to balk the onslaught
before the invaders could muster a host big enough to
cross the waters and assault the Kingdom, all the better.
But Calis drove home again and again the risk that hung
over everyone. Erik remembered his last words on the
subject: 'No one will escape. This plague of invasion is
but the first part of the destruction. Dark magic beyond
your ability to comprehend will be unleashed in the end,
and should you hide in the deepest cave in the farthest
mountains of the Northlands, or in the remotest island
on some distant sea, you will die. If we do not stop this
host, we all will die.' He had looked from man to man.
'That is the only choice, win or die.'
Now Erik understood why Robert de Loungville had
needed 'desperate men,' because for all intents and
purposes they were about to stick their neck back in

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 275

noose. Erik absently fingered the one he still wore.
'Mercy!' said Roo, bringing Erik out of his revery.
,what?,
'Speak of a demon and he appears, Isn't that Owen
Greylock's silver scalp I see over there on the foredeck of
the Ranger?'
Erik looked hard and saw the tiny figure on the nearby
ship. 'It could be. About the right size, and the hair has
that silver streaking through it.'
'I wonder why we didn't see him at the beach?'

Erik finished off tying a line. 'Maybe he didn't come
ashore. Maybe he already knows the tasks at hand.'
Roo nodded. 'In all of this there are still some things I
don't understand. Who was this Miranda woman,
anyway? Every man I mention her to has met her, sometimes
under different names. And Greylock was your
friend, maybe, but if he's on that ship, did he have
something to do with our being captured?'
Erik shrugged. 'If that is Greylock, we'll find out when
we get where we're going. As for the rest, who cares?
We're here, and we have a job to do. Thinking about why
isn't going to change that.'
Roo looked exasperated. 'You have too accepting a
nature, my friend. When this is all done, if we survive, I
plan on getting rich. There's a merchant in Krondor with
a homely daughter who he wants to marry off. I may be
just the lad for her.'
Erik laughed. 'You can be ambitious for both of us,
Roo.'
They continued to work, and when Erik glanced over
at the Ranger, the figure who might have been Owen was
gone.

Weeks passed. They sailed through the Straits of Darkness
without mishap, though the weather was difficult.
For the first time Erik felt what it was like to be at risk

I

276        RAYMOND E. FEIST

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 277

aboard ship, hanging from rigging as weather buffeted                      
him. The old hands joked that this was a mild passage for                  
the time of year in the Straits, and wove stories of impossible 
conditions, with mile-high funnel clouds and                      
waves the size of castles.               
it took three days, and when they had passed through,                     
Erik had nearly collapsed on his bunk, as had his companions. 
The experienced sailors could sleep through                        
the storm on their off watch, but the former prisoners                     
weren't that blase about it.             
As life aboard the ship became more routine, the relationships 
between the men evolved. They would talk for                     
days about the grim purpose behind their mission, then               
more days would go by without comment. Speculation                         
would lead to dispute, followed by silent acknowledgement 
that each man, in his own way, was afraid.                            
Those former soldiers who came over from the Ranger                       
to train with the prisoners were just as likely to give long               
narratives about the previous venture south as they were                   
to remain silent. It depended upon the man and his                         
mood.                                    
Erik did discover one thing: Calis was nothing human
if the older soldiers were to be believed. Far more telling                
than Jadow's and Jerome's tales of his prodigious                          
strength was one old soldier, a former corporal at Carse,                   
who said that he had first met Calis twenty-four years                     
previously, when the corporal had been a raw recruit,                      
and Calis hadn't aged a day since.       
Roo was learning to curb his temper, if not entirely                      
master it. He had gotten into several arguments, but only                  
one had come to blows, and that had quickly been ended                     
by Jerome Handy's picking Roo up, carrying him up on                       
deck, and threatening to drop him over the side. The                 
crew laughed as Roo dangled over the water with Jerome                     
gripping his ankles.                
Roo had been more embarrassed than angered by the                         
incident, and when Erik had spoken to him about it
afterward, he shrugged it off. He said something that had
stuck With Erik ever since. He looked his boyhood friend
in the eye and said, 'Whatever happens, I have been
afraid, Erik. I cried like a baby and peed in my pants
when they took us to the gallows. After that, what is
there left to be afraid of?'
Erik enjoyed the sea, but he didn't think he could live
the sailor's life. He longed for his forge and horses to
tend. He knew that if he survived the coming battles, that
would be his choice: a forge and maybe. someday, a wife
and children.   
    He thought about Rosalyn and his mother, Milo and
Ravensburg. He wondered how they were doing, and if
they knew he was alive. Manfred might have mentioned
it to a guard, who might have told someone in town. But
there was certainly no one who cared enough about him
or his family to ensure that his mother or Rosalyn knew.
He had thoughts of Rosalyn, and found them strangely
neutral. He loved her, but when he imagined a wife and
children, Rosalyn wasn't there. No one was.
Roo had already made up his mind he would return to
Krondor and marry Helmut Grindle's homely daughter.
Every time he said that, Erik laughed.
As the days wore on, the men became more proficient
in every aspect of their training. The stories of the
surviving men from the last mission and their example, their
own grim determination to excel, spurred on the former
prisoners to match their achievements. As well as they
could aboard ship, they practiced their weapons, and on
calmer days Calis worked with them on archery. The
weapon of choice was a small bow used by the horsemen of
the Eastland steppes, the Jeshandi. Calis had his own
longbow stored in his cabin, but used the shorter weapon
with ease. About half the men turned out to be good to
excellent with the weapon. Roo was better than Erik, but

278        RAYMOND E. FEIST

neither youngster was among the first thirty bowmen.
Those would be issued bows, Calis had said, but he
wanted every man at least familiar enough with the
weapon to have some chance of hitting a target.
That seemed to be the underlying pattern to the training.
De Loungville and Foster would drill men with
every weapon they might be forced to use, from long
poll arms to daggers. Each man was marked down in a
journal as to his strengths and weaknesses, but none
was spared the hours of drills, even with the weapons
for which he showed no aptitude. What had begun at
the camp outside of Krondor continued aboard ship.
Each day Erik spent a half watch using a sword, spear,
or bow, a knife, mauler, or his fists, but always he was
expected to improve.
The hour with Sho Pi and Nakor became the high
point of the day for Erik, and the other men seemed to
enjoy the exercises as well. The meditation was strange
at first, but now it refreshed him and made his sleep
better.
By the third month, Erik was adept at open-handed
fighting, as he thought of the strange Isalani dance Sho
Pi taught them. No matter how strange at first, the
movements wove themselves into an arsenal of moves
and counter-moves, and often without thought Erik
found a sudden response, completely unexpected,
coming from him during a combat drill. Once, when
using knives, he almost cut Luis, who said something in
Rodezian as he studied his onetime death cell companion.
Then he had laughed. 'Your 'dance of the crane"
has turned into the 'claw of the tiger,' it seems.' Both
were moves taught him by Sho Pi, and neither had been
conscious on his part.
Erik wondered what he was becoming.

'Land ho!' cried the lookout.

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 279

For the last two days tension on the ship had mounted.
Sailors had mentioned that they were close to the point
where they should be making landfall, and now every
man was conscious of how long he had been confined to
the ship. These large three-masted warships were provisioned
well enough for the long four-month voyage, but
the food was now stale or old and tired. Only Nakor's
ever-present oranges were fresh.
Erik went aloft and made ready to reef sail, as the
Captain took the ship through a treacherous series of

reefs. Moving past a clear patch of water, Erik looked
down and saw what appeared to be part of a ship lying
under ten feet of water.
An older sailor named Marstin standing next to him
said, 'That's the Raptor, lad. Old Captain Trenchard's ship,
once the Royal Eagle out of Krondor. We sailors of the King
became pirates for a time.' He pointed toward the rocky
shore. 'A handful of us washed up there twenty-four years
ago, and young Calis, with the Prince of Krondor Nicholas,
not his dad - and Duke Marcus of Crydee.'
'You were among that party?' asked Roo on his other
side.
'There's a handful of us still alive. I was on my first
voyage, a seaman apprentice in the King's Navy, but I
served on the best ship under the finest Captain in
history.'
Roo and Erik had heard several versions of the story
about Calis's first voyage to the southern continent.
'Where are you going once we're dropped off?'
Marstin replied, 'City of the Serpent River. Revenge is
going to wait for you men, while Ranger is going to refit
and go home with the current news. That's what I hear,
anyway.'
Scuttlebutt they called it in the navy, but it was the same
gossip they'd heard. Further conversation was cut off by
the order to reef the sails, and Erik and Roo got to it.

280        RAYMOND E. FEIST

i

I

I

When they were done scrambling around enough to
take in their whereabouts, they saw they were lying off a
long, empty beach beneath a huge wall of cliffs, easily
one hundred feet high. The breakers and combers indicated
the area was thick with rocks, and Erik was impressed
with the Captain's ease at reaching this relatively safe
anchorage.
'Muster on deck!' came the command, and Erik and
Roo scrambled down to the deck with the others. De
Loungville waited until the entire company was settled
before he shouted, 'We get off, here, ladies. You have ten
minutes to get below and gather up your kits and get
back up here. The boats will be putting over the side at
once. We don't dawdle. No one will be left behind, so
don't get cute ideas about dodging into the rope lockers.'
Erik was convinced the warning was unnecessary. The
conversations he'd had with every other member of this
company led him to judge that everyone understood
there would be no quick escape from this mission. Some
might not believe that everything was as Calis had said,
but Nakor's words seemed to have reached all of them,
and whatever the truth of it, this band of desperate men
would meet the challenge face on.

Horsemen waited at the top of the cliff. The climb had
been relatively easy, as a rope-and-wood ladder had been
installed on the face of the rocks. Anyone in poor health
might have had difficulty with the long climb, but after
four months of ship's duty, hard upon the heels of the
training at the camp, Erik had no trouble climbing with
his backpack and weapons.
At the top of the bluff, Erik saw a pleasant oasis hard
against the edge of the cliff. A large pool of water was
surrounded by date palms and other greenery. Then he
caught sight of the desert. 'Gods,' he exclaimed, and Roo
came to his side.           I

I

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 28I

'What?' asked the smaller youth. Biggo and the others
came and looked where Erik pointed.

'I've seen the Jal-Pur,' said Billy Goodwin, 'and it's a
mother's kindness compared to this.'
in every direction, rock and sand greeted the eye. Save
where the cliff showed ocean, there was only one color, a
slate grey, dotted with darker rock. Even this late in the
afternoon, the heat shimmer rising made the air ripple
like bed sheets on a line, and suddenly Erik felt thirsty.
Biggo said, 'I'd not wish this on a hound of hell.'
The attention of Erik and his five companions was
diverted by Foster suddenly shouting, 'All right, ladies,
enough time to take in the scenery later. Fall in!'
They were moved to where de Loungville waited. He
pointed to a group of six men, the one that included
Jerome and Jadow Shati. Erik knew them by name and
had spoken to each from time to time on the long voyage.
'This is the oldest team of six I have. They've been training
for three years.' Then he motioned toward Erik and
his group. 'This is the newest group. They'd been training
for only a few weeks before we left.' He addressed Erik's
group. 'Watch them. Do what they do. If you get into
trouble, they will help you. If you make mistakes, they
will help you. If you try to escape, they will kill you.'
Without another word, he moved away, and. calling
Foster's name, he shouted instructions to get the men
organized for a march.
The horsemen conferred with Calis, then turned and
rode off. A short distance away, large bundles were tied
down under canvas, staked to the ground by peg and
rope. Foster ordered a dozen men to uncover them,
and when they had finished, Erik saw a cache of
arms and armor.
Calis held up his hand. 'You are mercenaries, now, so
some of you will dress like ragpickers, while others will
look like princes. I want no squabbling over who takes

l~

282        RAYMOND E. FEIST

i

i

what. The weapons are more important than the finery.
Leave your Kingdom-made weapons here, and take
what's under the canvas. . .'
Roo whispered, 'Wish they'd told us we wouldn't need
all this armor before we lugged it up the cliff!'
Calis continued, 'Remember, this is mummery, nothing
more. Booty isn't our objective.'
The men gathered closer, for Calis rarely addressed
them and they were still not privy to much of what lay
before them. 'You know what you've been told,' he
continued. 'Now you will know the rest. In ancient times
a race was created, the serpent men of Pantathia.' Instead
of the usual muttering, the men were rapt and silent, for
they knew their lives depended upon knowing as much
about this mission as possible. 'This race has lore as
ancient as the Chaos Wars. They think their destiny is to
rule this world, destroying all else who abide here.' Looking
around at the men, as if memorizing their faces, the
young-looking elf-kin said, 'They have the means, I
think. Or at least it's our task to discover if they have the

means.
'We came here twelve years ago, some of us.' He
nodded to a knot of soldiers from the last campaign. 'We
thought in simpler terms then: we would lend our
weight to the struggle and turn back conquerors. We
now know better.' All the surviving soldiers of the first
campaign against the Pantathians nodded in agreement.
'Whatever these creatures plan, it is more than simple
land-grabbing or raiding for booty. Twenty years ago
they came against a small city on the far side of this
continent, Irabek, and since then, any land they take falls
behind a curtain of death and fire. We have no word
from any place they have conquered. Those of us who
faced them on the walls of Hamsa know what they are.
Mercenary companies such as we pretend to be lead the
wave, but behind them are fanatic soldiers. There are

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 283

human officers and cadres of well-drilled fighting men,
but more: there are also serpents who ride horses
twenty-five hands high.'

Erik blinked at this. The largest war-horse he had seen
in Baron Otto's cavalry was nineteen hands. He'd heard
of some being twenty hands, used by the Krondor Heavy
Lancers, but twenty-five hands? That was nearly eight
and a half feet at the withers. Not even the biggest Shire
horse he'd seen came close to that.
'We've not seen these creatures,' continued Calis, 'but
we have reliable reports. And behind these creatures
come the priests themselves.
'Some men, we are told, are rewarded by being placed
high within this company of well-drilled fighting-men.
But all of them are willing servants of those who seek to
dominate this land.
'our mission is simple. We must get as close to the
heart of this army of conquest and discover as much
about it as we may. Then, when we have learned all we
can, we must flee to the City of the Serpent River, and
from there home, so that Prince Nicholas can prepare for
the coming invasion.'
There was a moment of silence; then Biggo said, 'So
that's all we need do, and then we can go home?'
Suddenly there was laughter. Erik found he couldn't
hold it in. Roo looked at him, seemed to struggle to hold
in his own guffaw, then abruptly was laughing as well.
Calis let the mirth go on for a moment before he held
up his hands for silence. 'Many will not return. But those
of you who do will have earned your freedom and the
praise of your King. And if we can defeat these murderous
snakes, you may have the opportunity to live out
that life as you choose. Now, get equipped. We have a
long march across a difficult desert before we meet with
friends.'
The men fell upon the arms and clothing like children

284        RAYMOND E. FEIST

on gifts at the Midwinter Feast, and soon comments and
friendly insults were flying.
Erik found a faded but serviceable blue tunic, over
which he strapped on a breastplate of alien design, with a
worn and faded lion's head embossed on it. A simple
round shield, a long dagger in his belt, and a well-made
longsword filled his needs. As men tried on various items
and discarded them, a conical helm with a nasal bar
rolled to his feet. He bent to pick it up, and a chain neck
guard fell out. He tried it on. it fit comfortably, so he
kept it.
As the men made ready, the mood turned somber.
Calis saw they were finished and held up his hands. 'You
are now Calis's Crimson Eagles. if anyone recognizes that
name, you're men from the Sunset Islands. Those of you
who served before can tell the others what they need to
know about the Eagles if they're asked. We are the
fiercest fighters in the Kingdom, and we fear no man or
demon. We got our backsides booted when last we came
this way, but that was twelve years ago, and I doubt
there's one man in a thousand alive who remembers.. So,
form companies - we're mercenaries, but we're not
rabble - and check your rations. Each man's to carry
three full waterskins. We're marching at night and sleeping
during the day. Follow instructions and you'll live to
see water again.'
As the sun sank Foster and de Loungville got the men
ranked into companies. Calis faced west, toward an angry
sun, and led them into the heat.

Erik had never been so hot, tired, and thirsty in his life.
The back of his neck itched, yet he couldn't spare the
energy to reach up and scratch it. The first night had
seemed relatively easy. The air had plunged from hot to
brisk within hours, and as sunrise approached, it was
cold. Yet even then it had been a very dry cold, and the

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 285

thirst had begun. As instructed, they drank only when
permitted by Foster and de Loungville, a mouthful every
hour.
Near sunrise, they were ordered to make camp, and
quickly had small tents erected, each large enough to
shade six men. They quickly fell asleep.
Hours later, Erik awoke with a start, as,the breath in
his lungs seemed barely to hold enough air to keep him
alive. He gasped and was rewarded with a dry lungful
that was close to painful. Opening his eyes, he saw waves

in the air as heat shimmer rose off the hardpan. Other
men moved and tried to get comfortable in the heat. A
couple had left the small tents, thinking the heat outside
might somehow be less than the heat radiating through
the canvas, and quickly they returned to the tiny shelter.
As if reading minds, Foster's voice had cut through the
air, warning any man caught drinking would be flogged.
The second,night had been arduous, and the second
day terrible. Now there was no rest in lying in the heat,
only less energy expended than attempting to move. The
night offered no relief, as the cold dry air sucked moisture
from the men seemingly as quickly as the day's heat.
They marched on.
Foster and de Loungville were careful not to lose sight
of each company, ensuring that no one at the rear
stumbled and was left behind. Erik knew they were also
ensuring that no one dropped any vital piece of equipment
because they were fatigued.
Now it was the third day and Erik despaired of ever
seeing water and shade again. Adding to the cruelty of
the trek was the rising terrain before them. It had begun
gently enough, but now it felt as if they were walking
uphill.
Ahead, Calis stopped, but motioned for the others to
come up to him. When they reached the crest of the rise,
Erik could see that they had reached grasslands, and that

I '

286        RAYMOND E. FEIST

from the crest downward, rolling hills of green led to a
scattering of copses where broad branched trees offered
shelter. In the distance, a line of trees meandered across
the countryside, and it was there Calis pointed.. 'The
Serpent River. You can drink your fill now.'
Erik pulled up his last waterskin and drained it, finding
it was almost empty. He was surprised; he had thought
he had more water left, as he hadn't been allowed to
drink enough to drain three skins.
Calis looked to de Loungville and said, 'That was pretty
easy.'
Erik glanced at Roo, who shook his head. The order to
march was passed along, and they moved toward the
distant river.

Horses milled in large corrals and Calis spoke to a pair of
horse traders. They had been at this place before, a
prosperous-looking trading post called Shingazi's Landing.
One of the older soldiers said it had been burned to
the ground when Calis had first come to this land,
twenty-four years ago, but had been rebuilt. Even
though Shingazi had died in that fire years before, the
new owners kept the name. So they were presently
enjoying the hospitality of Brek's at Shingazi's Landing.
The food was simple but welcome after the rations,of
the last three days, as were the abundant wine and ale.
The men waiting for them weren't the same riders that
had met them on the bluffs. Those had been riders of the
Jeshandi, Erik had been told, while these were city men,
up from the City of the Serpent River.
A company of guardsmen were stationed with them,
and their captain was. known to Calis. They had gone
inside the tavern to talk, while the mercenary company
was left to itself outside. Every man had bathed in the
river, drank his fill, and now they were resting before
mounting up to ride.

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 287

Erik watched the horses with interest. Here was something
he could understand. He saw that each mount was
being given a snaffle bit, a cavalry saddle with a breastband,
and saddlebags, with room for a sleeping roll or
rolled-up tent behind the saddle's cantle.
Foster was walking nearby when Erik noticed something. '
Corporal,' he said.
Foster halted. 'What?'

'That horse isn't sound.'
'What?'
Erik moved between two rails of the corral fence and
pushed past the milling horses near by. One of the horse
trader's handlers shouted at Erik; he had tried to learn
the language of this land on ship, and knew that man was
ordering him to stay away from the horses, but he didn't
have enough confidence in his ability to say he just
wanted to look. He waved at the man as if returning a
greeting.
Reaching the horse, he ran his hand down the left
foreleg, picking it up. 'Bad hoof.'
Foster said, 'Damn their greedy hearts.'
The wrangler reached them, shouting at them to leave
the animals alone. 'You haven't paid yet, They are not
yours!'
Foster unleashed his legendary rage. Gripping the
man's shirt in one meaty hand, he raised him to his toes
and screamed in his face. 'I should have your liver for
lunch! Get your master and tell him if he's not here
before I lose my good mood, I'll kill him and every
cheating whoreson of a city man within five miles!' He
half pushed the man as he let go of his shirt, and the
wrangler fell back against the horse, who snorted in
protest and moved away. Turning, the man ran off to
find his employer.
This exchange wasn't lost on the guards who came
with the horse traders, and suddenly there were armed

I

288        RAYMOND E. FEIST

I

men in all directions moving to get ready for a fight. Erik
said, 'Corporal, was that wise?'
Foster only grinned.
A few moments later the horse trader was upon them
demanding to know why they had assaulted his man.
Foster said, 'Assault? I should have your heads on pikes!
Look at this animal!'
The man glanced at the horse and said, 'What about     i
him?'
Foster looked to Erik and said, 'What about him?'
Erik suddenly found himself the center of attention of
every man Within view. He looked around and saw Calis
and the leader of the city guardsmen coming out of the
tavern. Someone had obviously alerted them to the
possibility of danger.
Erik said, 'He has a bad hoof. It's cracked and festering,
and it's been painted over to look healthy.'
The man began a stream of protests, but then Calis
said, 'Is this true?'
Erik nodded. 'It's an old trick.' He moved to the horse's
head and looked into his eyes, then inspected his mouth.
'He's been drugged. I don't know what, but there are
several drugs that will deaden the pain enough to make
him not limp. Whatever they gave him is wearing off.
He's starting to show a hitch in his walk.'
Calis came up to the horse trader. 'You were given this
commission by our friend Regin of the Lion Clan, were
you not?'
The man nodded, attempting to bluff. 'I was. My word
is bond from the City of the Serpent River to the Westlands.
I will find whichever one of my misguided
retainers is responsible and have the man beaten.
Obviously someone is attempting to curry my favor, but I
will have no cheating of good friends!'
Calis shook his head. 'Fine. We shall inspect every
animal, and for each one we reject, you will be fined the

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 289

price of a sound horse as well. This is one, that means we
get one other sound mount for no charge.'
When the man looked to the Captain of the company
that had accompanied the horse man, he smiled. 'Sounds
fair to me, Mugaar.'
I Seeing no relief, the man touched his hand to his

heart. 'It is done.'
As the defeated merchant stalked away, Calis said,
'Hatonis, this is Erik von Darkmoor. He'll be inspecting
each animal. If you would see he's not interfered with, I
would be in your debt.'
Erik extended his hand. The man shook it with a firm
grip. He was a soldier of middle years, but only a little
grey took away his youth. He was strong and looked like
a seasoned fighter.
'My father would come back from the grave to haunt
one such as that if he cast shame upon our clan,' said the
guard captain.
Turning to Erik, Calis said, 'Can you vet more than a
hundred horses by first light tomorrow?'
Erik glanced around and shrugged. 'If I must.'
'You must,' said Calis, walking away.
Foster watched a moment, then turned to Erik. 'Well,
don't just stand there. Get to it!'
Erik sighed in resignation and, looking around, called
for some of the men in his company to lend a hand. He
couldn't get another expert to magically appear, but he
needed men to walk and jog the animals and move the
vetted ones to another location.
Taking a deep breath, he began with the closest horse.

I

THIRTEEN

Search

ed up.
The barman look
The inn was crowded, and in the normal course of
business, anyone entering should not have caused him to
notice. But the figure who entered was not one of his
ordinary customers, nor was the barman an ordinary
barman.
The newcomer was a woman, tall and alert in her
stance, wearing an all-concealing robe of sturdy weave,
fine enough to mark her as more than a common street
girl, but not so elegant as to mark her as nobility. For a
moment the barman expected one or more men to follow
her, escorts to protect her from the street's rougher denizens.
When none appeared, he was certain there was
nothing ordinary about this woman. She glanced around
the room as if seeking someone; then she locked eyes
with the barman.
She threw back the hood of the cloak, revealing a
youthful appearance - though the barman knew well
enough appearances were deceiving - with dark hair and
green eyes. She was not pretty but striking, with a full
mouth and good cheekbones. Her eyes were dangerous.
Most men would have called her beautiful, but most men
wouldn't have known how dangerous she was.
A young bravo stepped up to intercept her before she
could reach the bar. He was at the peak of youth, feeling
too much the rush of blood and ale. He was nearly
majestic in appearance, half a foot taller than six feet,
with shoulders broad with iron plates, and enough scars

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 29I

to ensure that few of his boasts were challenged as lies.
'Here, now!' he said with a drunken laugh, pushing
back a crested helmet so he could see better. 'What is so
wonderful a wench doing without my company?'
This brought a laugh from two of his companions and a
disapproving look from the whore who had counted on
all three of these soldiers making her night profitable.
The woman stopped as the young warrior stepped before
her, and looked him slowly up and down. 'Excuse me,'
she said softly.
The man-boy grinned and seemed about to say something.
Then his smile slowly faded, until he looked down
upon the woman with a puzzled expression. 'I'm sorry,'

he said quietly as he stepped aside.
His friends looked on in amazement and one stood up
to say something. The barman produced a light crossbow
and put it on the bar, with the bolt pointed directly at the
protester. 'Why don't you sit back down and finish your
drink!'
'Hold on, Tabert. We spend a lot of gold here! Don't be
threatening us!'
'Roco, you get drunk on cheap wine down at the
market, then stagger up here to grope and fondle one of
my girls until closing, when half the time you don't have
enough to pay for her company!'
The girl who had been sitting with the three men stood
up and said, 'And the half of the time they have money,
they don't have any iron left in their swords from all that
cheap wine, and even when they do, it's nothing much
to brag on.'
This brought a torrent of laughter and insults from the
rest of the patrons of the commons. The third warrior,
who had been holding the whore until she stood up, said,
'Arlet! I thought you liked us.'
'Show me your gold, then I'll love you, darling,' she
said with a grin lacking any affection.

I

292

Tabert said, 'Why don't you three boys head on down
to Kinjiki's and annoy his girls for a while. He's Tsurani
blood, so he'll bear up under the abuse with better grace
than I.'
The two companions looked ready to dispute this request,
but the first, who had tried to stop the woman,
nodded slowly and pulled his helm back down. Reaching
under the table, he, retrieved his weapon and shield.
'Come on. we can find our fun somewhere else.'His two
friends were about to protest when he bellowed, 'I said
come on!' The abrupt rage startled the others and they
hesitated, then agreed, following him out of the room.
The woman reached the bar. The barman knew her
first question before she asked. He said, 'I haven't seen
him.'
The woman raised one eyebrow in question.
'Whoever it is you're looking for, I haven't seen him.'
'Who do you think I'm looking for?'
The barman, a stout fellow with muttonchop sideburns
and a receding hairline, said, 'There is only one kind of
man who would bring a woman like you searching, and
one like that hasn't come by recently.'
'And what kind of woman are you taking me for?' she
asked.
'One who sees things others miss.'
'You're very observant for a barman,' she countered.
'Most barmen are, though they learn not to show it. I,
on the other hand, are not most barmen.'
'Your name?'
'Tabert.'
Lowering her voice, she spoke. 'I have been to every
shabby inn and dirty taproom in LaMut, seeking something
I was told on good authority would be here. So far I
get nothing but blank looks and confused stammering.'
Speaking even more softly, she said, 'I need to find the
Hall.'

i

RAYMOND E. FEIST

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 293

With a smile he said, 'The back room.'
He led her through a small back room, then down a
flight of stairs. 'This storage room connects with others,
below the city,' he said. He opened a door at the foot of

the stairs and led her to the far end of a narrow hall.
There was no door, only a small alcove doorway, hidden
by a piece of cloth hung from a metal rod. As she reached
the door, Tabert said, 'You'll understand when I say if
you're in this room, I can't help you. I can only show you
the door.'
Miranda nodded, though she wasn't entirely sure of
the meaning of what he said. She stepped through into
the small room. As she stepped across the threshold and
passed under the rod, she felt the energy emanating from
it. For a brief instant she saw a tiny storage room, stacked
high with a few empty ale and wine casks and some
crates, but instantly she understood the barman's words.
She willed herself into phase with the energies coursing
down from the metal rod, and an instant later she stood
somewhere else.

The Hall was endless. Or at least no creature able to
communicate had ever discovered the end of it. Miranda
saw that every so often a doorway, a rectangle of light,
adjoined the Hall on the sides. Between the entrances a
grey nothingness loomed. That she could see at all was
something of a mystery, for there was no obvious source
of light. Miranda shifted her perceptions and instantly
regretted it. The darkness she experienced was so profound
it produced an instant despair. She returned her
sight to the magically tuned vision she had employed,
and again she could see. She considered the barman's
words. 'You'll understand when I say if you're in this
room, I can't help you. I can only show you the door.' He
knew of the magic portal into the Hall but could not
empower anyone to enter. Only a talent like Miranda or

294        RAYMOND E. FEIST

a few others on Midkemia would have the means of
entering the Hall and surviving once there.
She turned and looked at the door she had just stepped
through, seeking to set it apart in her mind from the
others, should she need to return this way. At first nothing
out of the ordinary marked the doorway; at last she
noticed faint runes hovering over the top of the door,
difficult to see. She focused her attention on them and
memorized the shape and formation, in her mind translating
the glyphs to 'Midkemia.' Across from the door,
only a featureless grey void beckoned. The doors were
staggered on the left and right so that none faced
another. She moved down and saw that the glyphs of the
door on the other side of the one through which she had
entered bore a different mark. She memorized that one
as well. If she were to be turned -around somehow and
lose sight of where she was, a series of familiar landmarks
would prove useful.
After memorizing a half dozen of the nearest door
glyphs, she continued on - assuming that, without information,
one direction was as apt as another - and
began to walk.

The figure in the distance appeared roughly human in
shape, but it could have been a member of any number
of races. Miranda stopped walking and watched. She was
able to defend herself, but she thought it better to avoid
rushing into trouble if she could. A door to her right
provided the potential for escape, though she had no idea
what was on the other side.
As if reading her thoughts, the figure yelled something,
holding out its gloved hand to show it was holding no
weapons. The gesture was less than reassuring, as the
creature was otherwise bristling with more arms than
Miranda thought anyone should be able to carry and still
walk upright. Upon its head a full visor masked its

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 295

features, while the body was covered in a material that
looked as rigid as steel, yet gave the appearance of being
more flexible. It was a dull, pale silver in color, almost
white, and lacked the high reflective quality that most
Polished armor possessed. The creature carried a round
shield on its back, giving it a turtle-like appearance. A
longsword's hilt peeked over one shoulder, while what
appeared to be the stock of a crossbow was visible over
the other. At the right hip hung a short sword, and an
assortment of knives and throwing implements hung

around the figure's torso. A whip was rolled up and
hung from the left side of the creature's belt. And over
one shoulder a large sack was thrown.
Miranda called out in the Kingdom tongue. 'I can see
you are not carrying anything in your hand ... at the
moment.'
. The figure moved cautiously toward her and said
something in a language different from the first it had
used. Miranda answered in Keshian, and the slowly
walking arsenal answered in yet another tongue.
At last Miranda spoke in a variant of the language of
the Kingdom of Roldem, and the figure said, 'Ah, you're
a Midkemian! I thought I'd recognized DeWjan a bit ago,
but I'm rusty.' He - for his voice sounded like that of a
man - said, 'I have been trying to tell you that if you
jump through that door, you'd better be able to breathe
methane.'
'I have means of protecting myself from lethal gas,'
answered Miranda.
The man reached up slowly and removed his helm,
revealing a face that was almost boyish - a freckled
visage set with green eyes and topped with a damp mat
of red hair - a face split with a friendly smile. 'Few who
walk the Hall don't, but the stress is pretty awful. You'd
weigh about two hundred times as much as you do
normally on Thedissio - which is what the inhabitants

296

RAYMOND E. FEIST

call that world - and that can slow movement down a
great deal.'
'Thank you,' Miranda said at-last.
'First time in the Hall?' asked the man.
'Why do you ask?'
'Well, unless you're a great deal more powerful than
you look - and I'll be the first to admit that appearances
are almost always deceiving - it's usually first-timers
whom we find wandering the Hall without company.'
'We?'

-Those of us who live here.'
'You live in the Hall?'
'You're a first-timer, no doubt.' He set the bag down. 'I
am Boldar Blood.'
'Interesting name,' Miranda said, visibly amused.
'Well, it's not the one my parents gave me, certainly, but
I'm a mercenary and one must attempt a certain level of
intimidation in my line of work. Hardly credible, I know,
but it does prove to be the case. Besides'- he pointed to his
own countenance -'is this a face to inspire terror?'
Miranda shook her head and smiled in return. 'No, I
guess not. You can call me Miranda. Yes, it's my first time
in the Hall.'
'Can you get back to Midkemia?'
'If I turn around and walk about two hundred twenty
doors, I suspect I'll find the right one.'
Boldar shook his head. 'That's the long way. There's a
door a short way off that will put you in the city of Ytli, on
the world of II-Jabon. If you can get through the two
blocks to another entrance without being accosted by the
locals, you'll find a door that leads back into the hall next
to the door that leads to ... I forget which Midkemian
door it is, but it's one of them.' He leaned over, opened his
bag, and took out a bottle. He fished around inside the sack
and produced a pair of metal cups. 'Care to join me in a cup
of wine?'
'Thank you,' said Miranda, 'I am a little thirsty.'
Boldar said, 'When I first stumbled into the Hall - must
have been a century and a half or so ago - I wandered
around until I almost starved to death. A very agreeable
thief saved my life in exchange for a seemingly inexhaustible
series of reminders of that fact, usually in
conjunction with a need for a favor from me. But he did

save me a great deal of difficulty at the time. Knowledge
of how to navigate the Hall is quite useful. And it's
knowledge that I'm delighted to share with you.'
'In exchange for. . .'
'You catch on quickly,' said Blood with a grin. 'Nothing
is free in the Hall. Sometimes you might do something to
build accounts and put others in your debt, but nothing
ever goes without something in return.
'There are three types of people you'll meet in the Hall:
those who will avoid you and spare you their society in
passing, those who will try to bargain with you, and
those who will try to take advantage of you. The second
and third groups are not necessarily the same thing.'
'I can take care of myself,' Miranda said with a
challenge in her voice.
'As I said earlier, you couldn't be here in the first place
and not have some capacity. But remember this is also
true of everyone else you meet in the Hall of Worlds. Oh,
occasionally some poor soul without any powers, talents,
or abilities blunders in unbidden. No one quite understands
how. But quickly they walk out the wrong door or
run into those who seek easy prey or step off into the
void.'
'What happens when you step off into the void?'
'If you know the right spot, you end up coming
into a saloon of a great inn, known by many names,
owned by a man named John. The inn is called simply
'The Inn," and as John is known as, variously, -John
the Oathkeeper," 'John Without Deceit,' 'John the

298
RAYMOND E. FEIST

Scrupulous,- 'John Who Has Ethics," or any other of a
half-dozen such honorifics, the saloon is usually called
"Honest John's." There were, at last count, one thousand
one hundred and seventeen known entrances to the
saloon. If you don't know the right spot, well ... no one
knows, for no one has ever returned to tell anyone what
exists in the void. It is simply the void.'
Miranda relaxed. The mercenary's affable manner was
such that she doubted he would attempt to take advantage
of her. 'Would you be willing to show me to one of
these entrances.
'Certainly, for a price.'
'That being?' she asked, raising an eyebrow.
'In the Hall, there are many things of value. The usual:
gold and other precious metal, gems and stones, deeds of
ownership to estates, slaves and indentures, and, most of
all, information. Then there is the unusual: items unique,
services personal, manipulations of reality, souls of those
who will never be born, things of those types.'
Miranda nodded. 'What would you?'
'What have you?'
They began haggling.

Twice in less than a day, Blood had proven his worth.
Miranda was finding herself fortunate that he had been
the first person she encountered, rather than a party of
interdimensional slavers whom they encountered several
hours later. Miranda had a personal distaste for the institution
of slavery, a bias now heightened by the attempt
to reduce her and Boldar to inventory.
Boldar had disposed of the four guards and the slaver
after attempting to allow them peaceful passage. Miranda
thought she might have been able to cope with them
alone, but she was impressed how Boldar had instantly
recognized the moment the negotiations had soured and
had disposed of two guards before she could begin to

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 299

focus her mind on protecting herself. By the time she
would have encased herself in a protective aura, the
conflict was over.
The slaves had been freed - which had required a great
deal of argument on Miranda's part, for now she had to
make good on the portion of profit Boldar stood to make
upon acquiring the slaves and selling them. Miranda
pointed out that as he was currently in her employ, he
was in fact acting as her agent, and she was free to do

with the slaves what she chose. He found this proposition
somewhat dubious, but after considering the difficulty of
feeding and caring for the slaves, decided that accepting a
bonus from Miranda would prove the better solution.
The second encounter had been with another band of
mercenaries, who seemed inclined to give Blood and his
employer a wide berth, but who, Miranda was certain,
would have acted entirely differently had she been alone.
While they walked, she learned.
'So if you know the locations of the common doors,
the journey through the Hall can be shortened?'
'Certainly,' said Blood. 'It depends on the world, how
many doorways exist, and where they are relative to
one another in the Hall. Thanderospace, for example' he
waved at a door they passed - 'has but one door,
which unfortunately opens into the hall of sacrifice in
the most sacred temple of a cult of cannibalistic
humanoids, who are less fussy about defining cannibalism
than they are devoted to eating anyone who
stumbles into their most holy of holies. This is a world
seldom visited.
'Merleen, on the other hand' - he waved at another
door a short distance ahead -'Is a commerce world that is
served by no less than six doors, which makes it a hub of
trade, both among its resident nations and for other Hall
worlds.
'The world from which you appear to hail, Midkemia,

300        RAYMOND E. FEIST

has at least three doors I'm aware of. Which did you use
to enter?'
'Under a bar in LaMut.'
'Ah, yes, Tabert's. Good food, decent ale, and bad
women. My sort of place.' He seemed somehow to be
grinning behind the mask. How Miranda could tell she
didn't know. Perhaps it was some subtlety in the
mercenary's body language, or a note in his voice.
'How does one learn of these doors? is there a map?'
'Well, there's one,' said Boldar, 'at Honest John's. It's
on a wall in the public room. There you can see the
known limits of the Hall. The last time I looked, there
were something like thirty-six thousand-odd doors identified
and catalogued.
'There are occasionally messages forwarded to the Inn
from those who encounter new doors, either in the Hall
or upon any world where a new passage is discovered.
There's even one legendary lunatic whose name I forget
who is exploring the far reaches and sending back
messages, some which take decades to reach John's. He's
getting so far from the Inn he's becoming a myth.'
Miranda thought. 'How long has this been going on?'
Boldar shrugged. 'I suspect the Hall has existed since
the dawn of time. Men and other creatures have lived
here for ages. It requires a certain talent to survive for
long within the Hall, so it has its appeal for those who
seek a ... higher-stakes sort of living.'
'What of                          ')'asked Miranda. 'You could live well on
you.
most worlds with the fee you charge me.'
The mercenary shrugged. 'I do this less for the bounty
than for the excitement. I must confess that I do grow
easily bored. There are worlds where I could rule as king,
but that has little appeal for me. In truth, I find myself
happiest in circumstances that would drive most sane
men mad. War, murder, assassination, intrigue these
are my stock-in-trade, and there are few who match me

i

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN  30I

in skill. I say this not to brag, for I have your commission
already, but to tell you simply, once you grow used
to living in the Hall, there is no other life.'
Miranda nodded. The scope of the place was staggering;
it was literally the sum of all known and quite a few
unknown worlds.
Boldar said, 'As much as I am enjoying your company
, Miranda, and as much as I enjoy the wealth you
promise, I grow tired; while time has no meaning here,
fatigue and hunger are real in all dimensions - at least
the ones I've visited. And you still haven't told me
where you go.'
Miranda said, 'That's because I really don't know
where I'm going. I'm looking for someone.'
'May I enquire whom?'
'A worker of magic, by name Plug of Stardock.'
Boldar shrugged. 'Never heard of him. But if there is
one place where both our present needs can likely be
met, it is the Inn.'
Miranda was uncertain, and wondered at her own
reluctance to embrace the obvious. if there was a communal
center to the Hall, then should Pug have come
through the Hall, that was the most likely place to inquire.
But she feared others might also be interested in
his passing and thought it likely he would have avoided
letting others know of his whereabouts. Still, it was
better than wandering aimlessly.
'Are we far from the Inn?'
'No, actually,' said Boldar. 'We've passed two other
entrances since we met, and there is another a short
distance away.'
He motioned for her to follow, and after progressing
past another two doors, he pointed to the void. 'This is
very difficult the first time.' He pointed to the door
opposite the void. 'Note that mark?'
She nodded.

I

I

Miranda fell forward: the step was down and she had
guessed up. Strong arms caught her, and she opened her
eyes wide at the sight of white fur on them.
She tried remaining calm as she disengaged herself from
her helper, a nine-foot-tall creature covered in that same
white fur from head to foot. Black spots broke up the
otherwise snowy surface, and two immense blue eyes and
a mouth were the only visible features on a shaggy head. A
plaintive grunt was followed by Boldar saying, 'If you
have any weapons, now is the time to surrender them.'
She saw he was efficiently divesting himself of his
arsenal, including several rather innocuous-looking items
that had been secreted about his person. Miranda carried
only two daggers, one in her waistband, and another
strapped to the inside of her right calf, and she quickly
surrendered them.
Boldar said, 'The proprietor learned ages ago that his
establishment thrives so long as it is neutral ground for
everyone. Kwad ensures that no one who starts trouble
remains inside the saloon any longer than necessary.'
'Kwad?'
'Our large hirsute friend here,' answered Boldar. As
they left the doorway, he continued. 'Kwad's a
Coropaban; stronger by the pound than any creature
known, almost completely resistant to any magic; and the
most toxic poisons take a week or so to kill one. They make
incredible bodyguards, if you can get one to leave their
homeworld.'

302        RAYMOND E. FEIST

'It's Halliali, a nice place if you enjoy mountains. One of
the entrances to Honest John's lies across from it. Now,
you simply step off and expect to meet a step a foot or so
beyond the edge of the void.o So saying, he stepped into
the grey and vanished.
Miranda took a breath, then, as she started to duplicate
his move, thought, Step up or dovm?

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 303

Miranda stopped and gaped. The saloon was immense,
easily two hundred yards across, and twice that deep.
Along the right wall, nearly the entire way, ran a single
bar, with a dozen barmen rushing to meet their customers'
demands. A pair of galleries, one above the other, overhung
the other three sides of the hall, thick with tables and
chairs, providing vantage points from which those drinking
and dining could gaze down upon the main floor.

There every game of chance conceivable was being
played, from several variations of dice to a knife duel in a
small sandpit. Creatures of every imaginable conformation
moved easily through the press, greeting one another
as they chanced upon old acquaintances.
Creatures carried trays covered with a variety of pots,
platters, cups, buckets, and bowls. Some were put before
creatures that defied Miranda's sense of order. At least a
dozen clearly reptilian creatures were dining in the hall,
the mere fact of which caused her to be very uncomfortable.
The majority of the clientele was humanoid, though
an occasional insect-like being or something that looked
like a walking dog could be seen.
'Welcome to Honest John's,' said Boldar.
'Where's John?' she asked.
'He is over there.'He pointed to the long bar. At the near
end stood a man wearing a strange suit of shining cloth. It
consisted of trousers that broke without cuffs at the top of
shiny black boots with oddly pointed toes. The jacket was
open in front, revealing a white shirt with ruffles, closed
by pearl studs and sporting a pointed collar, set off with a
cravat of bright yellow. Upon his head he wore a widebrimmed
white hat with a shimmering red silk hatband.
He spoke closely with a creature that looked like a man
with an extra set of eyes in his forehead.
Boldar waved as they approached and the man
identified as John said something to the four-eyed man,
who nodded once and departed.

I
304

RAYMOND E. FEIST

with a wide smile, John said, 'Boldar, It's been, what,
a year?'
'Not quite, John. But close enough.'
'How do you tell time in the Hall?' asked Miranda.
John glanced at Boldar, who said, 'My current
employer, Miranda.'
With a theatrical gesture, John doffed his hat and
swept it across his chest, bowing at the waist as he
reached out with his other and took one of hers lightly in
it. He then made a gesture of kissing it, though his lips
never touched skin.
She withdrew it quickly, feeling somewhat awkward at
the contact. John said, 'Welcome to my humble establishment.'

Suddenly Miranda's eyes widened. 'What language are
you -are we. . .'
John said, 'Your first visit, I see. I thought it unlikely
we should host as lovely a guest as yourself before without
my notice.' He waved them to a table located near
the bar, and pulled out a chair. She blinked at it a
moment before she realized he was waiting for her to sit.
She was unused to this odd behavior, but considering the
range of human custom, she chose not to offend and let
him seat her.
'One of the few magic spells allowed. It is not only
useful, it is necessary. it's not foolproof, I fear, for we do
occasionally have the odd visitor whose personal frame
of reference is so alien to the majority of sentient life that
only the most basic communication is possible, if any,
and we also do get the occasional fool.'
Boldar chuckled and said, 'That we do.'
John waved his hand. 'Now, as to your first question,
measuring time is simple. Outside the Hall, time passes as
it does everywhere else in the universe, as far as I know.
But to answer what you meant to ask, we measure it as
we did on my homeworld. it's a vanity, but as I am the

I

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN  305

owner of the establishment, it's my right to make the
rules. What world do you hail from, if I might know?'
'Midkemia.'
'Ah, then, it's very close to what you're used to. Mere
hours different per year; enough to trouble scribes and

philosophers, but in the course of a normal lifetime,
you'd only be off by a few days on your birthday between
the two calendars.'
"Miranda said, 'When I first learned of the HalL I
thought it a magic gate through which I might seek other
worlds. I had no idea . . .'
John nodded. 'Few do. But humans, for that is what I
judge you to be, are like most other intelligent creatures
- they adapt. And they find things that are useful and
continue to do them. Likewise, those of us who are
privileged to walk the Hall, well, we adapt, too. There are
too many reasons to stay within the Hall, too many
benefits, once one finds one's way into it, to ignore, so
most of us become citizens of the Hall, abandoning our
former ties or at least neglecting them shamefully.'
'Benefits?'
John and Boldar exchanged looks. 'So I don't bore
you, my dear, why don't you tell me what you know
about the Hall?' suggested John.
Miranda said, 'In my travels I have heard of the Hall of
Worlds several times. I had to look for quite some time to
find the entrance. I know it is a means of traveling
through space, to reach distant worlds.'
'And through time, as well,' said Boldar.
Miranda said, lime?'
'To reach a distant world by conventional means takes
lifetimes; the Hall reduces transit to days, in some cases
hours.'
John said, 'Then to the heart of the matter: the Hall
exists independent of objective reality as we like to define
it when standing on the surface of our homeworlds. It

306

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i

i

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RAYMOND E. FEIST

links worlds that may be in different universes, different
space-times, for lack of a better term. We have no way of
knowing. For that matter, it may link worlds at different
times. my homeworld, a not very distinguished sphere
orbiting an unremarkable sun, may very well have died
of old age before your world was born, Miranda. How
would we know? If we move through objective space,
then why not through objective time?
'And because o t t, we ave ere, wi in
everything. Or if not that, then as close as a mortal can
wish. We trade in wonders, in the Hall, and in the prosaic,
every chattel and species, every service and debt. if
you can imagine it, if it can be found anywhere, it can be
found here, or at least here you can find someone to take
you to it.'
,What other benefits?'
'Well, for one, you don't age in the Hall.'
'Immortality?'
'Or something close enough to it to make little difference,'
said John. 'It may be that those of us able to find
the Hall possess this gift already, or it may be that by
living within the Hall we avoid Death's icy hand, but the
gains in time are not trivial, and few give them up
willingly.' He waved his hand to the gallery above. 'Those
who inhabit my guest quarters number several hundred
who fear to ever again leave the Hall, conducting their
businesses in their entirety in rooms I lease them. Others
come here as the only possible refuge from all danger,
while yet others spend part of their days on other worlds
and part of them here. But no denizen of the Hall will
give up its lure after becoming aware of the benefits.'
'What of Macros the Black?'
At the mention of that name, both John and Boldar
looked uncomfortable. 'He's a special case,' answered
John after a while. 'He may be an agent of some higher
power, or even a higher power himself; at the very least,

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 307

he's something beyond what we would count mortal
here in the Hall. How much of what has been placed at
his feet is true and how much legend, only a few can tell.
What do you know of him?'
'Only what was told me in Midkemia.'
'Not the world of his birth,' said John. 'Of that I am
almost certain. But what brings his name into this conversation?'
'
Only that he's a special case, as you have said. So there
might be others.'
'Perhaps.'
'Such as Plug of Stardock?'
Again John looked discomforted, though Boldar
hadn't so much as blinked at mention of Pug's name. 'If
you seek Pug, I may not be able to offer you much by
way of encouragement.'
'Why is that?'
'He passed through here quite a few months ago,
ostensibly on his way to some odd world I can't remember,
to do research, but I fear that is a ruse,'
'Why do you say that?'
'Because he hired several of Boldar's friends to prevent
anyone who asked for him from following after.'
'Who?' said Boldar, looking around the room.
'William the Gripper, Jeremiah the Red, and Eland
Scarlet, the Grey Assassin.'
Boldar shook his head. 'Those are three likely to cause
some trouble.' He leaned forward to Miranda. 'I could
most likely best Jeremiah; his reputation is built mostly
on rumor. But William and Eland both possess the death
touch, and that makes it dicey if they're working
together.'
Miranda said, 'Do I look like a Pantathian?'
John said, 'My dear, after as many lifetimes as I have
spent in the Hall, looks are the last thing I would depend
upon. You, for all your evident charms, could turn out to

308

be my own grandfather and it would barely surprise me though
I fervently hope the old boy is dead, as we buried
him when I was fourteen years old.'Rising, he said,'Pug of
Stardock is another, like Macros, who is not of the Hall,
but utilizes it occasionally. But his word is good and so is
his gold. He paid for protection, and such he will get. My
advice is not to let anyone else in this room know you seek
him and to find some other means to trace his whereabouts,
or be prepared to meet two of the Hall's most
reputable mercenaries and one of the most feared assassins,
no less than one minute after you leave this place.'
He bowed. 'Please have refreshments as my guest.' He
signaled a small man and said something to him, indicating
that a round of drinks should be produced. 'Should
you need quarters for a time, you'll find us reasonable. If
not, I trust you'll enjoy yourself as long as you're here,
and return to us soon.' He bowed, tipping his white
hat, and left to return to the bar and his conversation
with the four-eyed man, who had just returned from
whatever errand he had been on.
Blood let out his breath in a dramatic fashion. 'What do
you choose to do?' he asked.
'I intend to keep looking. I mean Pug no harm.'
,would he think that?'
'We've never met. I know him by name only. But he
would not think me dangerous, I know.'
'I've never met him, either, but John recognized his
name instantly. That means his reputation is spreading,
and for that to occur in the Hall, one must possess a
significant level of gifts. For him to worry about being
followed. . .'He shrugged.
Miranda was inclined to take Boldar at face value, and
nothing he had said was inclining her to suspect him; still,
the stakes were too high for her to take chances. She said,
'If he doesn't want to be followed, enough to take such
precautions, how would one follow his trail?'

RAYMOND E. FEIST

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN  309

Boldar blew out his cheeks. 'There are several
oracles . - .'
'I've consulted with the Oracle of Aal.'
'If she doesn't know, then none of them do,' he observed. '
There's the Toymaker.'
'Who is he?'
'A creator of devices, several of which may be used to
spy out people who don't wish to be seen. But he's

somewhat mad and therefore undependable.'
'Who else?'
The waiter appeared with a round of drinks, placing a
frosty mug of something that looked like ale before
Boldar and a large crystal goblet before Miranda. He
made a show of unfolding napkins and placing one in
Miranda's lap and the other in Boldar's. He said, 'Compliments
of my master,' and withdrew.
The wine was delicious and Miranda drank deeply,
discovering she was quite thirsty - and hungry.
'There's Querl Dagat,' said Boldar. 'He deals in information;
the more improbable, the better he likes it ...
as long as it's true. For that reason, he's a full cut above
the average rumormonger hereabouts.'
Miranda picked up her napkin to blot her lips, and a
folded piece of paper fell to the floor. She looked down,
then at Boldar, who bent over and picked it up. He
handed it to her -unopened.
She took it and unfolded it to find a single word.
'Who's Mustafa?' she asked.
Boldar slammed his hand down upon the table. 'The
very fellow we must see.'
He glanced around and said, 'Up there,' pointing to the
gallery.
He rose and "Miranda followed; they wended their way
through the press of tables and alien bodies. Reaching a
stairway, they climbed to the first of the two overhanging
galleries. "Miranda was surprised to discover that the

3I0

RAYMOND E. FEIST

gallery was but one side of a wide promenade, which had
large corridors stretching away. 'Is all this part of the Inn?'
Boldar said, 'Certainly.'
'How big is it?'
'Only Honest John knows for certain.' He led her past
booths offering all manner of goods and services, several
lewd, a score or more clearly illegal anywhere Miranda
had ever been, and many incomprehensible. 'Rumor has
it that John was a barkeep on his homeworld who was run
out of his birth city over some dispute. A roving band of
some sort of aboriginal people chased him, and he blundered
into the entrance to the Hall. As fate would have it, he
appeared in the Hall in the midst of a battle. It has been
said that, not knowing any better, he jumped into the void
opposite the door he had entered, discovering the first
entrance into the stable place in which the Inn is now
housed.'
Boldar moved down a side corridor. 'He blundered
around in a strange darkness, then somehow found his
way back to the Hall, moving back to his homeworld once
he was certain the aborigines were gone and returning to
his birth city. Over the years he came back to the Hall,
exploring and trading. When he finally had some sense of
the society within the Hall, he decided the Inn was what
would make him rich. He made some deals, hired some
workers, and returned here to establish his small inn. He's
added onto it over the years, until now it's a small township.
Whenever he adds onto the building, he encounters
no limit to the size he can increase his holdings, or at least
not so far.'
'Has it?'
'What?'
'Made John rich?'
Boldar laughed, and again Miranda was struck by how
boyish the mercenary looked. 'I suspect that by any
reasonable measure, John is the richest man in creation.

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN

He could buy and sell worlds should he choose. But like
most of us, he's found that after a while riches are only a
means to keep oneself amused or to keep tally on how
well one does in the various games and transactions in
the Hall.'
Reaching a doorway hung with a curtain, Boldar
called, 'Mustafa, are you in?'
'Who wants to know'?,

That got a laugh from Boldar, who swept aside the
curtain, indicating "Miranda should enter. She did and
found herself inside a small room with but a single table,
upon which a solitary candle burned. Otherwise, the
room was without distinction - no wall hangings or other
furniture, just another door in the wall facing the one
through which they'd entered.
A man stood behind the table, his face nearly black,
like aged and oiled leather. A white beard adorned his
cheeks and chin, though his upper lip was shaven, and
his head was covered with a green turban. He bowed.
'Peace be upon you,' he said in the language of the JalPur.
'
Upon you be peace,' answered Miranda.
'You seek Pug of Stardock?' he asked.
Miranda nodded. Glancing at Boldar, she raised an
eyebrow in question.
Boldar said, 'Mustafa's a fortune-teller.'
Mustafa said, 'You must first cross my palm with gold.'
He held out his hand. Miranda reached into her belt and
withdrew a coin, placing it upon his hand. He put it in his
own belt pouch without looking at it. 'What do you
seek?'
'I just told you I'
Mustafa said, 'You need to say it aloud!'
Fighting off irritation at what she thought was needless
show to convince gullible travelers, Miranda said, 'I need
to find Pug of Stardock.'

3I2

'Why?'
Miranda said, 'That is my business, but the need is
great.'
'Many look for this man. He has taken precautions
against being followed by those he would rather not
encounter. How may I know you are not such a one?'
Miranda said, 'One may vouch for me, but he is back
upon the world of Midkemia: Tomas, friend of Pug.'
'The Dragon Rider.' Mustafa nodded. 'That is a name
few would know who meant to harm Pug.'
'Where might I find him?'
'He seeks alliances and goes to speak with the gods. Seek
him in the Celestial City, in the Hall of the Gods Awaiting.'
Miranda said, 'How do I get there?'
'Return to Midkemia,' answered Mustafa, 'and get you
to the land of Novindus. in the great mountains, the Pillars
of the Stars, find the Necropolis, the home of the Dead
Gods. There, atop the peaks of the mountains, there is a
hall in which those gods waiting to be reborn abide. Go
there.'
Miranda didn't wait, but rose and left, leaving Boldar
standing alone with Mustafa. After a second, Boldar said,
'Is this true? Or are you doing one of your carnival acts?'
Mustafa shrugged. 'I don't know if it's true. That's just
what I was paid to say.'
'Who paid you?'
'Pug of Stardock.' The old man took off his turban,
revealing a nearly bald pate. Scratching his head, he said,'I
suspect it's probably another false lead. I have the distinct
impression this Pug is a man who doesn't wish to be
found.'
Boldar said, 'This gets interesting. I think I'll catch up
with her and see if she needs help.'
Mustafa shook his head and said, 'Find him or not, I
have a feeling she's going to need a great deal of help
before this is over. Some idiot left open a critical gate to the

RAYMOND E. FEIST

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN  3I3

demon realm, and a couple of realities could be in
jeopardy as a result.' He yawned.
Boldar was about to ask what that meant, but considered
Miranda getting too far ahead, so he said nothing
and left.
A moment after Boldar left, the other door opened and
a man stepped through. Small but striking, he had dark
hair and eyes and a closely trimmed beard, and wore a

simple robe of black. He reached into a pouch at his belt
and pulled out some gold coins. Handing them to
Mustafa, he said, 'Thank you. You did well.'
'Anytime. What are you going to do now?'
'I think I'll go set up a small test.'
Mustafa said, 'Well, enjoy yourself. And let me know
how the situation with the demon realm turns out;
things could get busy around here if they get loose.'
'I will. Good-bye, Mustafa,' said the man as he began
to move his hands.
'Good-bye, Pug,' responded Mustafa, but by the time
he had spoken, Pug of Stardock had vanished from sight.

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN    I 3I5

FOURTEEN

Journey

Erik dismounted.
Roo grabbed the reins of Erik's and Billy's horses and
led them away. Erik and Billy ran forward, weapons at
the ready, while the maneuver was repeated up and
down the line.
Since leaving Brek's at Shingazi's Landing two weeks
before, Calis had been drilling the men continually. They
were now being trained as mounted infantry. At the first
sign of attack, one man in three would lead the horses to
be staked behind the line while the other two made a
defensive position where instructed. The men had complained
about this, saying it made no sense to leave a
perfectly good horse and get down to fight, but the complaints
had fallen on deaf ears.
Nakor had laughed it off, saying only, 'Man and horse
gives a much bigger target than man on foot hiding
behind a rock.'
The drills were becoming second nature to Erik and the
others, who now waited to see what would happen next.
Sometimes, nothing; other times, Hatonis's company of
clansmen from the City of the Serpent River would
,attack,' and the results could be painful. The drills were
conducted using heavy wooden swords, weighted with
lead rods, that were twice the heft of a normal shortsword.
Erik swore his own sword was feather-light in his
hand after weeks of drilling with the false swords, which
he supposed was the point of it all, but the wooden
swords could leave heavy welts and even break bones,

I

and the clansmen from the City of the Serpent River
Seemed to take delight in embarrassing Calis's company.
Erik didn't understand the politics of this strange land;
he knew that Calis and Hatonis were old friends, or at
least friendly acquaintances, but the other men from that
distant city seemed either suspicious or contemptuous of
Calis's men. He asked and was told by one of the soldiers
from Calis's last voyage that clan warriors simply didn't
have much use for mercenaries. Erik took this to mean
that only a few leaders, such as Hatonis, knew of their
real purpose in coming to this distant land.
Erik heard a rattle behind him and knew that Roo had
returned and was laying down the odd short spears they
had picked up at Brek's. Soft iron, they were designed to

be thrown at charging opponents, either injuring them or
fouling their shields. Once they struck something, they
were useless, as they bent easily, so the enemy couldn't
throw them back. A shout went up from a crest nearby
and suddenly it was raining arrows. Erik raised his shield,
crouching low behind it, and felt two shafts strike and
shatter on the heavy metal and wood. A curse nearby
told Erik that Luis hadn't been as fortunate, and had been
struck by the dull point of a practice shaft. Not lethal,
these shafts nevertheless stung when they struck, and
occasionally they could cause real injury.
Then another shout signaled the charge, and Erik rose,
gripping one of the heavy iron spears. 'Ready!' shouted
de Loungville. As the charging clansmen came near, Erik
tensed, and as if reading his mind, de Loungville shouted,
'Wait for it!'
As the clansmen bore down upon them, the men of
Calis's company waited until de Loungville shouted,
'Throw!' and Erik and the others motioned throwing the
pilum, as the short soft spear was known in the Quegan
tongue. Having no practice pilum to use, they couldn't
throw the weapon, so after pantomiming a cast, each
man dropped his spear next to where they waited and,                        
with a few audible groans, readied the ponderous practice 
swords.                             
Erik recognized the man bearing down on him, a large                      somber
fellow named Pataki. Erik braced himself and let                    
the man throw the first blow, which he easily caught on                     
his shield. He stepped slightly to his left and threw a                    
roundhouse blow with his sword that got over the top of                    
Pataki's shield and caught him behind the head. Erik                       
winced, for he knew the blow must hurt, despite the                        
helm the other man wore.                   
Glancing around, he saw that his companions were                           
easily repulsing the attackers, and within a minute the                   
clansmen threw down their swords and removed their                         
helms in the mercenary's sign of surrender. A few of                        
Calis's company cheered the victory, but the majority                       
were content to stand motionless for a few minutes.                        
Riding most of the day, then suddenly fighting a battle -                  
even if only a mock skirmish - took its toll; most of the                  
men learned to steal rest whenever it was possible, even                    
if only for a minute.                    
'All right,' shouted Foster. 'Pick 'em up!'                               
Erik got his practice sword under one arm and was                          
starting to retrieve his pilum when he heard Billy say,                    
'This one's not moving!'                   
Erik saw that Pataki was still lying facedown in the                     
dust. Roo was the first to reach him and rolled the bulky                  
man over. He then leaned over and after a moment said,                     
'He's still breathing, but he's out cold.' 
De Loungville hurried over. 'What's this?'                                
Erik picked up his pilum. 'I caught him on the back of                    
the head. I hit him harder than I intended, I guess.'                       
'You guess,' said de Loungville, his eyes narrowing as if                 
he was about to launch into another reprimand.                             
Suddenly he grinned and said, 'That's my lad!' He told                      
Roo, 'Toss some water on him and get your kit together.'                   
Roo rolled his eyes heavenward and hurried to where
the horses were picketed. He fetched a waterskin and
doused the motionless man. Pataki came awake, spitting
out the water, and once he had regained his feet, returned 
to his own company.
Erik carried his set of pilum, practice sword, and shield
to where the horses were waiting. He loaded up his
equipment, then waited for Roo to catch up. When the
shorter man returned, he said, 'You really caught him
with that head shot.'
'You saw?'
'I was unoccupied at the moment. The fellow wh
came at me was blind-sided by Billy, so I had nothing
to do.'
'You could have lent me a hand,' Erik said.
'As if you needed one,' said Roo. 'You're turning into
something of a terror with that practice sword. Maybe
you ought to keep with it when the real fighting starts.
You can bludgeon with it better than most men can cut.'
Erik half smiled and shook his head. 'Maybe I'll find
one of those big dwarven war hammers and smash rocks,
too.'
'Mount,' came the order from Foster, and with accompanying 
groans the men complied.
Moving into position, Erik and Roo fell in with Sho Pi,
Biggo, Luis, and Billy. The company waited. Then came
the order to ride. There was at least another hour of
daylight before they'd be ordered to make camp, and that
would entail another two hours of work. Erik glanced at
the sun, an angry red globe lowering in the west, and
said, 'It's too damn hot for this time of year.'
From behind him, Calis said, 'The seasons are reversed
here, Erik. It's winter in the Kingdom, but it's early
summer here. The days are getting longer and hotter.'
'Wonderful,' said Erik, too tired to wonder how the
Captain had come to be riding next to him.
'When we spar with the clansmen,' said Calis, with a
faint smile, 'try to be a little more subdued with them.
Pataki's a nephew of Regin, the Lion Clan chieftain. If                     
youd broken his head, it would have strained things aing 
bit.'                                    
'I'll try to remember, Captain,' said Erik without 
humor.                                   
Calis set heels to his horse and moved toward the head   
of the line. Roo said, 'Was he joking?'  
'Who cares?' said Billy Goodwin. 'It's too hot, and I'm 
too tired to worry about it.'            
Biggo, who rode next to Billy, said, 'That's strange.
'What?' asked Roo.
'The sun's so red, but it's another hour or more to
sunset.'                                 
Looking toward the west, they nodded. 'What could be
causing it?' asked Luis, from his place behind Biggo.
'Smoke,' answered a clansman who was riding past.
'Word came last night that Khaipur was falling. That       
must be it burning.'
Roo said, 'But that's hundreds of miles from here! At
least, that's what the Captain said!'    
Sho Pi spoke softly. 'Very big fire' was all he said.

The training wore on, and Erik and the others no longer
had to think about what to do; they just did it. Even the
.routine of building fortifications every night became
commonplace; Erik ceased being astonished at how
much work the seventy-five men could accomplish.

Once the routine was established, Calis and de
Loungville would disrupt it, seeking to keep the men
constantly alert. As the days wore on, Erik thought it
unnecessary.
Riders came and went as messages were carried from
various agents Calis had established over the years.
surrounding countryside, the host of the Emerald Queen
was driving on the city of Lanada.
Riding in the second company, Erik heard Calis speak to Hatonis and one of the riders who had just brought
that news. 'It was seven years between the fall of Sulth
and the assault on Hamsa.'
Hatonis said, 'But the invaders had to fight through the
Forest of Irabek.'
'Three years between Hamsa and Kilbar, then a year
between Kilbar and Khaipur.'
Calis nodded. 'As they control more of the continent,
'they seem more intent on accelerating their advance.'
De Loungville speculated, 'Maybe the army's getting
too big to control and its generals have to keep it busy
With conquest.'
Calis shrugged. 'We need to change our line of march.'
To the rider he said, 'Rest with us tonight and tomorrow
return north. Carry word to the Jeshandi we will not be
coming their way.     We are going to leave the Serpent
River and turn straight west. Pass the word to those who
seek us that we are going to attempt to intercept the
invaders between Khaipur and Lanada. Look for us at the
Mercenaries' Rendezvous.'

Erik and the others turned to look across the Serpent
River, where in the distance they saw a vast valley of
forests and meadows, and beyond that a small range of
mountains. They would have to cross the river, ride
through that and, once across the mountains, down into
the river lands of the Vedra.
De Loungville said, 'Do we turn around for the crossing
point at Brek's?'
Calis said, 'No, it would lose us too much time. Send
scouts ahead and find us a place to cross.'
De Loungville ordered riders forward, and two days
later they reported a broadening of the river where the
current was slow enough that rafting might be possible.


Calis reached that point and agreed it was worth the try.
He ordered the men to cut what little growth there was
along the river to make a set of small rafts. A dozen men,
including Erik and Biggo, made the treacherous crossing,
poling their way from one side to the other, carrying lines
that would be used to get the others across. On the far
bank, the dozen men cut enough trees of a size to lash
together logs into four rafts, each large enough to hold
four horses. The horses for the most part cooperated,
though one raft was lost on the second-to-the-last trip as
a line parted and the logs broke apart. The horses and
men jumped into the water as the raft disintegrated, and
all the men were pulled out downstream, but only one
horse made it to the shore.
There were sufficient remounts so that the losing of
three horses was not a serious deprivation, but the
thought of the animals drowning bothered Erik. He
found that disturbing, for the specter of battle and men
dying held no pain for him, but the idea of a horse,
terrified as it was being swept downriver, made him very
saa.
The valley swept from the fork in the river to the west,
ending in a series of rising meadows, until at last they
would have to crest the ridge of mountains. On the tenth
day of the march, a scout returned to tell Calis of a party
of hunters he had encountered ahead.
Erik, Roo, and four other men were sent ahead with
Foster to negotiate with the hunters. Erik was grateful for
anything that broke the monotony of the march. Every
day had been toil without respite. As much as he enjoyed
horses and working with them, Erik had never been a
great rider. He found twelve hours in the saddle, interrupted
only by walking beside the horses to rest them,
making and breaking camp, mock combats, and a steady
diet of dried rations more drudgery than even his worst
days at the forge.
The countryside was sloping hills, all moving quickly
up into peaks and crests. The mountains of this region
topped out at a lower elevation than the biggest Erik was
used to at home, but there were far more of them here.
The three major peaks of Darkmoor were surrounded by
many hills, but otherwise few true mountains. Mostly
they were high plateaus and sloping hillsides. But here,
while modest in altitude, the mountains were plentiful
and steep, with quickly rising buttes and prominences,
dead-end valleys and box canyons, hard granite cut by

streams and rivers. Trees grew in abundance and none of
the surrounding peaks rose high enough above the
timberline to give them a clear point of reference as they
traveled through the dense woods. Erik suspected this
range of mountains might prove a hazard as well as an
inconvenience.
The hunters were waiting at the agreed-upon location.
Erik reined in as Foster dismounted, removed his sword
belt, and approached with his hands open. Erik studied
the hunters.
They were hill people, dressed in fur-covered vests and
long woolen trousers. Erik suspected there were herds of
sheep or goats secreted away in the local meadows. Each
man carried an efficient-looking bow, not quite as impressive
as the Kingdom longbow, but clearly powerful
enough to kill a man or bear as well as a deer.
The leader was a grey-bearded man who stepped forward
to speak with Foster, while the other three stood
motionless. Erik glanced around and saw no sign of any
horses; these men hunted on foot. Given the terrain, Erik
judged that more sensible than trying to convince a horse
to act like a donkey or goat. if the hunters' village was
any higher up the slopes, horses would be less than an
inconvenience; they'd be a danger.
Two of the other men bore a strong resemblance to the
leader, while the third appeared like him in manner only.
Erik guessed they were a family, with the odd man perhaps
being married to a daughter.
Foster nodded, reached into his tunic, and pulled out a
heavy purse. He counted out some gold pieces and returned
to where Roo held his mount. 'You men wait here.'
With a motion of his head he made it clear that they were
to keep the hunters from running off with the gold he just
gave them. 'I'll bring up the rest of the company. These
fellows have a way over the mountains that's safe for the
horses.'
Erik glanced at the steep rise of the landscape before him
and nodded. 'I hope so.'
While they waited, the hunters talked among themselves.
The one who didn't resemble the other three
listened as the leader spoke, then without comment he
turned and began to trot toward the tree line.
One of the soldiers, a man named Greely, shouted,
'Where does he think he's going?' The hunter stopped.
Greely's command of the local language, learned on ship
and while traveling, was better than Erik's, but his accent obviously struck the hillmen as odd enough that they
looked puzzled by the question.
The leader looked at him. 'Do you think treachery?'
Seeing that all four hunters were ready to unsling bows
and start firing if the wrong answer was forthcoming, Erik
glanced at Roo; suddenly Roo said, 'He's sending his sonm-
law home to tell his wife and daughter that he and his
sons won't be home for supper tonight. Am I right?'
The lead hunter nodded, once, and waited. Greely said,
'Well . I guess that's all right.'
The leader made a curt gesture and the fourth hunter
began trotting off again. Then the leader of the hunters
said, 'And tomorrow, too. it's a harsh two days over the
ridge, with no easy time going down the day after, but
once on the trail you'll have that well enough without my
help.' He leaned upon his bow once more.
About fifteen minutes of silence followed, then the
sound of horses approaching from the rear heralded Calis
and his company's approach. Calis rode at the head of the
company and when he pulled up he spoke rapidly to the

hunter. The exchange was so quick and heavily accented
that Erik couldn't follow most of it.
But in the end Calis seemed satisfied and turned to the
others, who were still riding up behind. 'This is Kirzon
and his sons. They know a trail over the ridge and down
into the Vedra River valley. It's narrow and difficult.'
For two hours they followed the hunters along a
narrow trail, winding up into the hills. The way was
dangerous enough that they took it at a slow pace, since
any mistake could cause an injury to horse and rider.
After reaching a small, meadow, the hunter turned to
confer with Calis. Calis nodded, then said, 'We'll camp
now and leave at first light.'
Suddenly de Loungville and Foster were shouting
orders and Erik and Roo were snapping to without
thought. Getting the horses in picket, unsaddled and
placed so they could crop the long grass, proved more
time-consuming than if they had simply been staked out
in a line and had fodder carried to them.
By the time Erik and the others in charge of the horses
were finished, the rest of the company had already dug
most of the moat, throwing up dirt on four sides in a
breastwork. Erik grabbed a shovel and jumped down
next to the others. Quickly the defense was made ready.
The drop gate was assembled, interlocking planks of
wood carried on a baggage animal that, when run out,
served as a broad bridge over the trench. Then Erik
climbed out as others were doing, on the short side of the
trench, walked to the gate and crossed over, and began
tamping the earth of the breastwork. Roo came over with
a set of iron-tipped wooden stakes, which he inserted at a
set distance along the top of the breastwork. Then they
hurried to join with the rest of the men and erect their
six-man tent, fashioned with interwoven pieces of fabric,
one section carried by each man. They placed their
bedrolls inside and returned to the commissary area,
where soup was being boiled.
On the march they ate dried bread and fruits, with
vegetable soups whenever possible. At first Erik and
some others grumbled over the lack of meat in the diet,
but he now found he agreed with the older soldiers that
heavy food weighed them down in the field. He knew
that while the thought of a steaming roast or a joint of
mutton, or his mother's meat pies, could make his mouth
water, he hadn't felt stronger in his life.
Wooden bowls were handed out, and each man came
away with a steaming helping of stewed vegetables, with
just enough beef suet and flour to give it some texture.
Sitting near the campfire, Roo said, 'I'd love some hot
bread to soak this up With.'
Foster, who was walking by, said, 'People in the lower
hells would love a cool drink of water, me lad. Enjoy
what you have. Tomorrow we're on trail rations.'
The men groaned. The dried fruit and hardtack was
nourishing but almost tasteless, and a man could seemingly
chew for hours without making the mess any easier
to swallow. What Erik found himself missing most was
wine. Growing up in Darkmoor, he had taken wine for
granted. The quality of the wine made in the region was
near-legendary, and this made even the cheapest 'plonk'
drunk at meals by the commoners a cut above the usual.
Until he reached Krondor, he had no idea that wine that
was too inexpensive to justify transport would have
earned a fair return in the taverns and kitchens of the
Prince's City.
He remarked on this to Roo, who said, 'That might be
just the ticket for an enterprising lad such as myself.' He
grinned and Erik laughed.
Biggo, who was sitting on the other side of the fire,
said, 'What? You going to truck bottles of the stuff into
Krondor and lose money?'
Roo narrowed his gaze. 'After my father-in-law,
Helmut Grindle, advances me enough gold to work with,
I have a plan that will put good wine on every table in the

Western Realm.'
Erik laughed. 'You haven't even met the girl! She may
be married with a brace of children by the time you
return!'
Jerome Handy snorted. 'If you return.'
They fell silent.

Horses are contrary creatures, thought Erik as he blinked
dust out of his eyes. He had been given the responsibility
of herding the remounts over the mountains and had
picked a half-dozen of the better riders to ride herd. One
surprise had been Nakor volunteering. Most men would
find riding behind the herd - 'drag,' as the position was
called - choking on their dust, poor duty, but the
chronically curious Isalani found the entire process
fascinating. And it turned out, to Erik's relief, that the
man was a competent enough horseman.
Twice, horses had been content to walk down a bluff
that would have taken them to a place where they would
either have to back up - one of the least-favored choices
of most horses - or learn to fly, which Erik judged even
less likely. 'Whoa!' he shouted at one particularly
troublesome horse who was determined to walk off the
mountain. He shied a rock at her, which bounced off her
right shoulder, turning her in the direction he wanted.
'Stupid bitch!' he shouted. 'Trying to turn yourself into
crow bait?'
Nakor rode closer to the edge than any sane man was
like to do and seemed ready to somehow will his horse
into flight so he could interpose himself between a horse
bolting the wrong way and thin air. Whenever Erik
mentioned he might come in a bit, the little man just
grinned and told him everything was fine. 'She's in
season. Mares get very stupid when in heat,' he observed.
'
She's not overly bright even when she's not ready to
breed. At least we have no stallions along. That would
make life interesting.'
'I had a stallion once,' said Nakor. 'A great black horse
given me by the Empress of Great Kesh.'
Erik regarded the man. 'That's ... interesting.' Like
the others who had gotten to know Nakor, he was reluctant
to call him a liar. So much of what he said was
highly improbable, but he never said he could do anything
he couldn't back up, so the men had come to take
most of what he claimed at face value.
'The horse died,' Nakor said. 'Good horse. Sorry to see
him go. Ate some bad grass; got colic.'
A shout from ahead warned Erik the herd was bunching
up, and he sent Billy Goodwin forward to help keep
the horses moving through a narrow defile that cut
across the ridge of the mountains. Once through that,
they would be heading downward into the valley of the

Vedra River.
Erik shouted for Billy to come back to the rear and
ride drag while he urged his own horse on, to the head
of the thirty horses that served as the company's remounts.
A balky gelding was trying to turn around, and
Erik used his own horse to push the recalcitrant animal
into the gap, and then the horses were moving in
orderly fashion. Erik pulled up and waited for the rest of
the animals to pass, then joined again with Billy and
Nakor in back.
'Downhill from here,' said Billy.
Suddenly Nakor's mare took a bite at Billy's horse,
and his animal reared. Nakor shouted, 'Look out! 
Billy lost his grip On his reins and fell backwards, and
landed hard on the ground. Erik jumped down from his
animal and ran over while Billy's horse ran after the
herd.
Leaning over, he saw Billy staring up into the sky. His
head rested upon a large rock while a crimson pool
spread behind him.
Nakor shouted, 'How is he?'
Erik said, 'He's dead.'

There was a moment of silence, then Nakor said, 'I'll
follow the horses. You bring him along to where we can
bury him.'
Erik stood up, started to reach down to grab Billy, and
suddenly remembered having to pick up Tyndal's body.
'oh, damn,' he said as tears came unbidden to his eyes.
He found himself trembling as he realized that of those
who had been sentenced to hang that day, Billy was the
first to die. 'Oh, damn,' he repeated, as he stood clenching
and unclenching his fists. 'Why?' he asked the fates.
One moment Billy had been sitting astride his horse;
the next he was dead. And nothing more important than
a stupid, poorly trained gelding shying from a bite by a
mare in heat had caused it.
Erik didn't know why he suddenly felt so sad at Billy's
death. He felt his body tremble, and realized he was
afraid. Sucking down a lungful of air, he closed his eyes
and bent and picked up Billy. The body was surprisingly
light. He turned and moved to his own horse, who
started to shy as he approached. 'Whoa!' he commanded,
almost yelling, and the horse obeyed.
He lifted Billy across the horse's neck and the front of
the saddle, then swung up behind. Sliding into the
saddle, he lifted Billy enough so that he could rest him as
much as possible across his upper thighs, so the horse
could manage the weight. Slowly he moved after the
distant herd.
'Damn,' he whispered again as he willed his fear and
anger back deep inside himself.

A man named Notonibi, with a heavy Keshian accent,
was moved into their tent, taking Billy's place. The five
remaining members of Erik's company were cordial, but
distant. While he was an outsider, his training made him
mesh quickly, knowing exactly which duties to perform
without being told.
Two days after crossing the ridge of the mountains,
Kirzon and his sons pointed the way down and returned
to their hunting. Calis paid them off in gold and bade
them farewell.
Erik returned to the routine of travel, though the
difficult descent into the hills west of the mountains gave
little time for reflection. He buried all his memories of his
feelings at Billy's death and continued as before.
Five days after crossing the mountains, they encountered
a difficult rise. Erik went ahead with Calis to scout
out a clear trail before allowing the full company to
proceed. Turning around nearly seventy-five riders and
another thirty remounts was tricky business under the
best of conditions. In tight quarters, it was nearly impossible.

Reaching a crest, they reined in and Erik exclaimed,
-the gods weep,'
In the distance, to the north, the great tower of smoke
that had been turning the sun red could now be seen.
'How far is that?' asked Erik.
'Still more than a hundred miles distant,' answered
Calis. 'They must be burning every village and farm
within a week's ride of Khaipur. The wind's blowing it
east, else we'd be tasting that soot as well as seeing it.'
Erik's eyes stung slightly. 'I'm feeling it now.'
Calis smiled his strange half-smile. 'It would be worse
if you were closer.'
Riding back, they found an easier trail than the first,
and as they moved toward the company, Erik said, 'Captain,
what are our chances of getting home?'
Calis laughed, and Erik turned to regard him. 'You're
the first with the grit to come out and ask; I was wondering
who it would be.'
Erik said nothing.
Calis said, 'I think our chances of getting home are as

good as we can make them. Only the gods know just how
mad this plan is.'
'Why couldn't you sneak one man in, have him look
around, then sneak him out?'
'Good question,' said Calis. 'We tried. Several times.'
He glanced around as he rode, as if scouting was a habit.
'This land is a land of few standing armies, as we know
them in the Kingdom and Kesh. Here you're either a
swordsman for your family or clan, or you're in the
palace guard of some city ruler, or you're a hired sword.
Mercenary armies are the rule.'
'I would think that with hired swords on both sides, it
would be easy enough to slip a man across the lines.'
Calis's expression showed it was a fair observation.
'One would think that. But a single man attracts notice,
especially one who is ignorant of basic customs and
attitudes. But a company of freebooters from a distant
land? That's not unusual in these parts. And reputation
counts for much. So, I am Calis, and we're the Crimson
Eagles, and no one looks twice at an elf living among
humans here. A "long-lived" leading such a company is
rare but not unheard of. You would be found out by
magic or treachery were you to come here alone, Erik.
But as a member of my company, no one will pay you
the least heed.' He said nothing for a while, looking down
on the rolling hills that led down to the river. After a
while he said, -This is a beautiful land, isn't it?'
Erik said, 'Yes, it seems so.'
Calis was silent for a moment, then said, 'Twenty four
years ago I came to this country for the first time,
Erik. I've been back twice since then, once with my own
army. I've left graves behind me in numbers you can't
imagine.'
'I overheard de Loungville and Nakor, back on Sorcerer's
Isle,' admitted Erik as he reined his horse around for
better footing on the trail. 'It sounded terrible.'
'It was. Many of the Kingdom's best soldiers died on
that march. Hand-picked men. Foster, de Loungville, and
a few others were able to escape with me, and only
because we took a chance and went where the enemy
didn't expect us to go.' Calis was again silent a moment.
'That's why I agreed with Bobby's plan, and convinced
Arutha that only men desperate to stay alive would
serve. Soldiers are all too willing to die for the colors, and
we need men who would do everything in their power to
stay alive, short of betraying us.'
Erik nodded. 'And soldiers don't make convincing
mercenaries.'
'That, too. You're going to meet some men who will
change your thinking about what humanity is capable of,
and you won't be better for knowing them.' He looked at
Erik as if studying him. 'You're part of an odd lot. We
searched for those things in each man that would give us
all the chance of blending in - an ability to be violent, no
pretension of ideals, just men who are as rough as those
we must go among - but we also needed men who were
more than the common scum the tides of battle usually
wash ashore. We needed men who, when it came time,
would answer the call rather than run.' He smiled and it
was a smile of genuine amusement. 'Or at least they
would run in the proper direction, and keep their wits
about them.' As if a thought struck him for the first time,
he said, 'I think I had better keep you and your company
close by. Most of the men we've selected are cutthroats
who would happily kill their grannies to earn a gold
piece, but your little band numbers some of our oddest
characters. If your friend Biggo starts talking about the
Death Goddess - who is a figure of terror in this land,

named Khali-shi, and who is only worshiped in secret or
if Sho Pi starts discussing philosophy with some of the
blood drinkers we're going to hook up with, we'll have
hell to pay. I'll tell de Loungville when we camp tonight
that your six is to be billeted closest to my tent.'
Erik fell silent. He was surprised that Calis knew
enough about them as individuals to know about Biggo's
theories on the Death Goddess or Sho Pi's odd views of
things. And he didn't know if being close to the Captain,
de Loungville, and Foster was a comfort or nuisance.

Days of cautious travel at last brought them to rolling
lowlands. Then on the fifth day after leaving the mountains,
they approached a village, one that sat athwart the
major north-south road between Lanada and Khaipur.
They found the houses abandoned, for the presence of a
company of armed men usually meant a raid in this land.
Calis waited an hour in the small town square, his men
tending their horses with water from the well, but
otherwise leaving everything untouched.
A young man in his early twenties appeared from
hiding in a stand of trees close by. 'What company?' he
called out, ready to duck back into the sheltering copse at
the first sign of trouble.
'Calis's Crimson Eagles. What village is this?'
'Weanat.'
'Whom do you serve?'
The man, eyeing Calis suspiciously, said, 'Are you
pledged?'
'We are a free company.'
That answer didn't seem to sit well with the villager.
He spoke softly, conferring with someone hidden behind
him, then at last he said, 'We tithe the Priest-King of
Lanada.'
'Where lies Lanada from here?'
'A day's ride south along that road,' came the answer.
Calis turned to de Loungville. 'We're farther south
than I wanted to be, but the army will catch up with us,
sooner or later.'
'Or grind over us,' answered de Loungville.
'Make camp tonight in that meadow over to the cast,'
instructed Calis. Turning to the still-half-hidden villager,
he said, 'We'll need a market. I need feed, grain for bread,
chickens if you have any, fruit, vegetables, and wine.'
'We are poor. We have little to share,' said the man,
backing deeper into the shadow of the trees.
Erik's squad was stationed right behind Calis, and
Biggo, who had listened to the exchange, whispered to
Erik, 'And I'm a monk of Dala. This is rich land, and those
beggars have whatever they own stashed away somewhere
in those woods.'
Luis leaned down from where he still sat his horse, and
said, 'And we are probably being watched over a halfdozen
arrows.'
Calis called out, 'We'D pay in gold.' He reached into his
tunic, pulled out a small purse, and turned it over,
emptying a dozen pieces of gold onto the ground.
As if signaled, a score of men appeared, all holding
weapons. Erik studied them, making a comparison to the
townspeople he had grown up with. These were farmers,
but they also held their weapons in a sure-handed
fashion. These men had to fight to keep what was theirs,
and Erik was glad that Calis was the sort of leader who
paid for what he needed rather than taking it.
The leader, an older man with a limp who carried a
large sword strapped across his back, knelt and picked up
the gold pieces. 'You'll bond peace?' he asked Calis.
'Done,' said Calis, throwing the reins of his horse to
Foster. He held out his arm and the village leader
gripped his wrist, as Calis gripped in return. They shook
twice and let go.
Abruptly the trees emptied of men, followed a short
time after by women and children. Before Erik's eyes he
saw a market take form in the small square of the village.

Roo said, 'I don't know where they kept all this,'

as he motioned to pots of honey, jars of wine, and
baskets of fruit that seemed to have materialized out of
nowhere.
'Get raided often enough and I expect you learn how
to hide things in a hurry, fella-me-lad,' observed Biggo.
'Plenty of basements with hidden traps, and false walls
in those buildings, I'm thinking.'
Sho Pi, who motioned for the others to follow to
where camp was being set up, said, 'They have the look
of fighting men, those farmers.'
Erik agreed. 'I think we're in a beautiful but very
harsh land.'
They picketed their horses where instructed by Corporal
Foster, then began the routine of making camp.

They rested while Calis waited. What he was waiting for
wasn't clear to Erik and the others, and Calis wasn't
taking them into his confidence. The villagers were
guarded in dealing with the mercenaries; approachable,
but not warm. There was no inn, but-one of the local
merchants had erected a pavilion and served average-quality
wine and ale. Foster warned against any public
drunkenness, promising a flogging to any man who
couldn't pull his weight the next morning because of a
thick head.
Each day brought more drills and new practices. For
three days they worked on holding their shields above
their heads while moving heavy objects about. Foster
and de Loungville stood on top of a hillock nearby throwing
rocks into the air so they would fall straight down on
the drilling men, reminding them to keep their shields up.
After a week had passed, one of the guards set at the
north end of the town cried out, 'Riders!'
Foster barked out orders for the men to get ready, and
practice swords were discarded, replaced by steel. Those
men selected as bowmen hurried to a position overlooking
the town, under Foster's command, while de
Loungville and Calis moved the rest of the company to
defensive positions at the north end of the village.
Calis moved to where Erik and his companions waited,
and said, 'They're coming fast.'
Erik squinted and saw a half-dozen men racing down
the road that led into the village. As they drew near, they
reined in, probably having seen a glint of metal or the
movement of men.
Biggo said, 'They're not so quick to come rushing in
now that they know we're here.'
Erik nodded. Roo said, 'Look over there.'
Erik turned to where Roo pointed, back into the village,
and was astonished to see it was once again
deserted. 'They do know how to make themselves scarce,
don't they?'
The riders began to trot toward the village, and when
they were close enough to be seen clearly, Calis shouted,
'Praji!'
The leader waved and spurred his horse into a canter,
while his companions followed. As they neared, Erik saw
that the six men were mercenaries, or at least dressed as
such, and that the man in the van was easily the ugliest
person he had ever seen. A face like seamed leather was
dominated by an improbably large nose and a huge brow.
His long hair, mostly grey, was tied back. He rode poorly;
his hands were far too busy, and it was irritating, his
horse.
Getting down, the man walked toward the defensive
position. 'Calis?'
Calis walked forward and the two men embraced, with
heavy back-slapping on both sides. The man pushed Calis
away and said, 'You don't look a damn day older; curse
you long-lived bastards - steal all the pretty women, then
come back and steal their daughters.'
Calis said, 'I expected to see you at the rendezvous.'

'There isn't going to be one,' the man called Praji said;
,at least not where you'd expect it to be. Khaipur has
fallen.'
'So I heard.'
'That's why you're here and not marching up the
banks of the Serpent River,' said Praji.
Foster motioned for Erik and five other men to take
the horses. As they gathered the animals, they studied
the other five riders. Hard men all, they had a beaten,
tired look. Praji said, 'We got our tails singed, for sure. I
barely got out with a score of our men; we got as close to
the siege as we could, but the greenskins had outriders
and they came down on us hard. I didn't even have time
to claim we were looking for work. No truces. You're
either with them or you're attacked.' He hiked a thumb
at his companions. 'After we got loose, we split up. Half
the lads went with Vaja to the Jeshandi. Figured you'd be
coming up that way, but in case you put in at Maharta I
was heading that way. Figured you'd send word through
our agents where you were if I was wrong. Give me
something to drink; my throat's coated with half the dirt
between here and Khaipur.'
Calis said, 'Let's get a drink and you can tell me more.'
He took the man over to the pavilion, and as they
moved, villagers began to appear as if from the air. Erik
and the other men detailed to the horses took the riders
over to the remounts, and Erik inspected them all. They
had been ridden hard; they were heavily lathered and
breathing deep. He unsaddled the horse he led, and 
the other men to start walking the animals. They needed                      
an hour's cooling at least, he judged, before they could be                      
allowed to eat or drink, lest they become colicky.                               

After the horses were cooled, Erik staked them out and                          
rubbed them down, checking to make sure none was                             
injured or coming up lame. When he was satisfied the                         
horses were all right, he returned to his own tent.                              
With the arrival of the riders, order in camp was lax,                      
and he found his five burikmates lying on their bedrolls.                    
He knew that it could be seconds before the order to fall                    
to was issued, so he luxuriated in the first moment he felt                  
the bedroll under him.                       
Natombi said, 'Legionaries always grab whatever rest                        
they can, minute to minute.'                 
'Who?' asked Luis.                          
'You call them Dog Soldiers,' said the Keshian. 
'In ancient times they were kept away from the cities,                           
penned up like dogs, to be unleashed upon the Empire's                           
enemies.' Like Jadow, Natombi shaved his head, and his                       
dark skin made the whites of his eyes and his teeth                          
appear in stark contrast when he spoke. The nearly black                         
inses made Erik think of deep secrets.     
'You're a dog, then, you're saying?' asked Biggo with                           
mock innocence.                              
The others laughed. Natombi snorted. 'No, 
stupid-head, I was a Legionary.' He sat up on his bedroll,                       
his head almost touching the canvas above. He placed his                         
fist on his chest. 'I served with the Ninth Legion, on the                       
Overn Deep.'                               
'I've heard of those,' said Luis, making a display of not                       
being impressed by shaking his open hand back and                            
forth.                                     
Sho Pi rolled over and raised up on his elbows. 'In my                      
country, Kesh is the heartland of the Empire. Isalani is                    
my nation, but we are ruled by Kesh. Those he speaks of                      
told                      are the heart of the army. How did one from the Legion
come so far?'
Natombi shrugged. 'Bad company.'
Biggo laughed. -this isn't an improvement, I'll
wager.'
'I was serving with a patrol that was to escort a man,
a very important man of the Trueblood. We traveled to
Durbin, and there I fell into disgrace.'
'Women, gambling, or what?' asked Biggo, now
genuinely interested. Natombi was something of a mystery 
to the others, even though they had shared the
same tent with him for more than a week since Billy's
death.
'I let the man die at the hands of an assassin. I was
disgraced and fled.'
'You let him die?' asked Roo. 'Were you in charge?'
'I was a captain of the Legion.'
'And I was Queen of the Midsummer Festival,' said
Biggo with a laugh.
'It's true. But now I am as you, a criminal living on
time given to me by another. My life is over, and now I
live another man's life.'
'That doesn't make us particularly unique,' observed
Biggo.
Roo said, 'What was it like in the Legion?'
Natombi laughed. 'You know. You live like a Legionary.'
'What do you mean?' Roo looked confused.
'This is a Legion camp,' said Natombi.
'It's true,' agreed Sho Pi. 'The formations, the
way we march, the practices, this is all of the Legion.'
Natombi said, 'This man Calis, our Captain, he is a
very smart man, I am thinking.' He tapped his head to
make the point. -This Captain, he trains us to survive,
for, man to man, there is no army on this world that can
face the Legion of the Overn and survive. No army here
has faced the Legions of Kesh, and when you fight

someone, it's good to fight them with tactics they've
never encountered before. Makes even better the chance
to survive.'
Luis was cleaning his fingernails with his dagger. Flipping
it up, he balanced it on the tip, resting lightly upon
one finger point, then he let it slip, caught it by the
handle, and slammed it point first into the dirt. Watching
it vibrate from the impact, he said, 'And that's what it's
all about, isn't it, my friends? Survival.'

f

FIFTEEN

Village

The lookout shouted.
'Riders!'
Erik and the others moved away from their various
tasks and put on their weapons. Since arriving the week
before, Praji had warned Calis's men that companies
fleeing the fall of Khaipur would be heading south. Twice
already bands of fighters had passed, avoiding the village
after having seen the fortifications Calis had ordered constructed
after conferring with the villagers.
Erik was uncertain if the Captain intended to truly
defend this village or simply wanted to drill the men in
another aspect of warcraft. Where just another village
had stood, now a respectable fortification sat athwart the
road. A full-scale moat had been dug around the village,
with the earth from it serving as the foundation of the
palisades. Two gates bound with iron had been hung, one
at the north end and one at the south of the village, each
securely attached to gateposts carved from the trunks of
oaks from across the river. Erik had overseen the forging
of the hinges, pins, and bands.
The village smithy had been abandoned years before
when the last smith died, but the old forge still stood.
Lacking a full set of smith's tools, Erik had made do with
those carried in the baggage train so he could shoe the
horses. Given enough time, he could use those tools to
make other tools, and eventually restore the smithy completely.
Each time Erik looked at the gates he felt a sense
of pride. It would take a serious siege engine to knock

340        RAYMOND E. FEIST

them down. Glancing around, he thought he'd rather
attempt to breech the log wall, perhaps burning it, than
to send a company against either gate, while being fired
upon by the men on the wall.
He looked over his shoulder as he put on his armor,
and saw Foster and de Loungville, following hard on the
heels of Calis, as they came down from the tower that
was being erected in the center of the village. This tower,
built atop a huge mound of earth, when finished would
give them an unobstructed view for miles, and prevent
any company of significant size from approaching unnoticed.

Erik and Roo hurried to their appointed places, each
silently checking to see that all weapons and supplies
were where they needed to be. Roo carried a half dozen
of the heavy iron spears, and Erik found himself amazed
at the wiry strength his friend had developed since they
had run from Ravensburg.
He felt a stab of unexpected pain at a fleeting memory
of his mother and Rosalyn, then let the thought go as the
riders came clearly into view.
It was a company of at least thirty men, all seasoned
warriors by their look. At the head of the company rode a
heavyset man of middle years, his grey beard hanging
down to his stomach. He signaled for a pair of his men to
circle out and around the fortress, and slowed as he
approached. As soon as he came within hailing distance,
he shouted, 'Hello, the fort!'
From the wall, Calis shouted back, 'Who rides?'
'Bilbari's Regulars, fresh from the fall of Khaipur,'and,
glancing around, he added, 'or what's left of us.'
The outriders returned and Erik assumed they were
informing their leader that it was a closed fortress, not a
simple barricade. Calis called back, 'Who commands? I
know Bilbari, and you're not he.'
The leader again looked around. 'I guess I do. Bilbari

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN  34I

died at the wall'- he spit and made a sign ~'and we took
the day's grace after the fall. My name is Zila.'
Praji came to stand next to Calis, and Erik could hear
him say, 'I know them. A good enough band for
butchery, though I'd not want any of them sharing my
bunk. They'll honor the peace of the camp, more or less.'
'I can give you the peace of the camp,' said Calis.
'How long?'
'Two days,' answered Calis.
'Fair enough.' Then Zila laughed. 'More than fair. Who

commands here?'
'I do. Calis.'
'Calis's Crimson Eagles?' asked Zila as he dismounted.
'The same.'
'I heard you died at Hamsa,' he said as Calis motioned
for the gates to be opened.
As Erik and the others waited, Foster came by and said,
'Stand down, but be alert. These wouldn't be the first to
promise the peace of the camp but change their minds
once inside.'
All thought of such betrayal vanished when the company
entered the village. They were beaten men. Erik
noticed that several horses were injured and all were
footsore. Even two days of rest would not be enough to
bring some of those mounts to soundness.
Erik heard Zila snort, clear his throat, and spit. 'Damn
dust,' he said. 'The smoke was worse. Fires from one
horizon to the other.' He glanced at the men of Calis's
company. 'You did well to avoid that one.' Motioning to
his horse, he asked, 'Got a smith in your company?'
.Calis motioned for Erik, who handed his sword and
shield to Roo. 'Put these away for me, would you?'
Roo's answer was rude, but he took the armor and
headed off toward their tent. Erik came up to Zila, who
said, 'Threw a shoe somewhere along the way. She's not
lame, but she's going to be.'

I

342

RAYMOND E. FEIST

Erik only needed a glance to tell Zila was right. He
picked up the horse's leg and saw that the frog of the
hoof was bloody. 'I'll clean this and dress it. With a new
shoe, packed and padded, she should be all right if you
don't push her too hard.'
'Ha!' said Zila. To Calis he said, 'There's an army of
thirty thousand or more coming this way. They just
kicked hell out of us. Unless someone organizes a rendezvous
north of here soon, we're but the first of maybe a
hundred or more companies that are going to come
riding this way, and most of those lads are damn
out-of-sorts over having been butchered by the lizards
Calis said, 'Lizards?'
Zila nodded. 'For a drink, I'll tell you about it.'
Calis instructed Erik to care for the newcomers' horses,
and Erik signaled the nearest men to take charge of the
others as he took Zila's mount in tow. The animal was
limping, and by the time they reached the pen for remounts,
Erik was certain she would have been useless in
another day, two at the most.
The newcomers were split equally between those who
were content to let Calis's men treat their animals and
those who insisted on following along to ensure their
animals were well cared for; Erik was completely unsurprised
to see that those who came along had the best
mounts. Despite the hardships, those horses were the
fittest and should recover after resting up. The others were
a poor lot at best, and Erik suspected that others besides
Zila's would soon be unable to carry their riders.
Erik had each horse inspected and made a mental list
of which animals would be worth caring for and which
would be best killed today. After conferring with a couple
of the more experienced horsemen in Calis's forces, he
found no argument.
As he moved away, one of the newcomers approached.
'You. What's your name?'

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 343

'Erik.' He paused and waited to see what the newcomer
had to say.
Lowering his voice, the man said, 'Mine is Rian. You
know your way around horses.' He was a large man with
a flat face, reddish from the sun and covered in road dust.
His eyes were dark, but his hair was reddish brown, his

beard grey-shot. He carried himself easily, one hand absently
resting on a long-sword.
Erik nodded, but said nothing.
'I could use another horse. Mine will come sound if I
don't ride her for another week. Do you think your
Captain would sell me one?'
'I'll ask him,' Erik said, and started to move off.
Rian restrained him with a gentle touch to the arm.
'Zila's a good enough fighter in a brawl,' he whispered,
'but he's no proper Captain. We were heading down to
Maharta to seek service with the Raj. It should take the
better part of the next year for that lot up north to get
past Lanada.'
He glanced around to see if anyone else was listening.
'Your Captain seems to know his way around a fortification,
and you seem more like garrison soldiers than hired
swords.'
Every man in Calis's company had been warned
against spies, so Erik responded without having to think.
'I just follow orders. Captain Calis has kept every man
here alive at least once, so I don't question him.'
'You think he's got room for another sword?'
'I'll ask. But I thought you were heading for Maharta?'
'After the beating we took at Khaipur, you'd think a
year or two of resting up and waiting might be nice, but
truth to tell ' there's no booty and I get bored easily.'
'I'll tell him that, too,' Erik said, leaving the man with
the horses.
He moved through the village, and several of the vilagers
nodded greeting. Calis's men weren't treated with

344        RAYMOND E. FEIST

open fear anymore, but the villagers were equally split
between those happy to have their swords around for
protection as well as their gold and those who feared that
the fortification would attract unwanted attention. The
village was routinely raided over the years, and the vilagers
had a time-tested method of fleeing into the nearby
hills. Few died if there was any advance warning. But this
fortress on the road: that was both a protection and a
trap.
Someone called Erik's name, and he glanced over to
see Embrisa, a girl of fourteen who had taken a liking to
him. She was pretty in a large-boned way, with pale blue
eyes her most striking feature, but Erik knew that she
would be old before she was thirty, probably with three
or four children and a husband who worked her from
dawn to dusk. A town-bred boy, Erik had little sense of
what real poverty and hard work were until he had come
to this village.
He spoke a quick greeting, then excused himself as he
went to the pavilion that served as an inn. Rough
wooden benches and tables.had been fashioned by an
enterprising farmer named Shabo who had used the
profits from serving Calis's men poor wine and ale to
build a wooden trews alongside his rude hut. Erik considered
that if they stayed long enough, Shabo would be a
-Proper innkeeper, as he kept using his profits to improve
his little enterprise. His latest innovation had been to
knock out a second door to the hut so he could serve
across a newly built bar that ran the length of the building.
Erik considered the hut might get very cold during
winter, though he had no idea how cold it got in these
parts.
Calis and Zila and some others sat at one table, while
other men in Zila's company drank heavily and did
indeed look like beaten men. Praji had joined Cah~ and
was nodding as Zila said, 'I've seen thirty years of

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 345

fighting, man and boy, but nothing like this.' He drained
his tankard and wiped his mouth with the back of his
hand.
Calis raised an eyebrow at Erik, who said, 'Half the
mounts either need a month of grazing and no work or
need to be put down. The rest could be ready to be ridden
if they lay up a week.'
Calis nodded. Zila said, 'We don't have much - being
on the losing side pays little - but we'll buy some mounts
from you if you'll sell them.'

'What are you planning to do?' asked Calis.
'We're heading for Maharta. The Raj is sending his
Royal Immortals to help the Priest-King of Lanada defend
against the greenskins and their army. That means his
war elephants and those drug-crazed maniacs of the
Priest-King are on the same side for a change.'
Praji said, 'Things must be grim to make those two old
enemies take the same cause.'
Zila waved for another tankard, and Shabo hurried
over to replace the empty one. 'Yes, but it also means the
Raj will need more fighters to keep peace around his city,
.so there will be work for us. I could use a couple of years
of keeping farmers in line after what we just went

through.' He looked at Praji and Calis. 'You say you were
at Hamsa?'
,Yes,' they both answered.
'It was ten times as bad at Khaipur. Before this war
began, we were like you, a company of mercenaries who
plied our trade between Khaipur and the Meeting Place Erik
knew he spoke of the annual meeting of the Jeshandi
horsemen and other tribes who came to the boundary of
the steppes to trade with the nomads of the eastern grasslands -'
or we worked along the central Vedra. Once we
even took a caravan across the Plain of Djams to Palamds
on the Satpura River.' He shook his head. 'But this war,
this was like nothing I've seen. We signed on after the fall

i

346        RAYMOND E. FEIST

of Kilbar. I've heard enough from those who survived to
know it was bad, but nothing prepared us for what
happened at Khaipur.' He stopped as if collecting his
thoughts. 'Bilbari signed us on to ride picket and run
messages. The Raj of Khaipur had one of those pretty
little armies that look so nice on parade, but he knew he
needed veterans to slow down the invaders while he
hired some mother-kfllers to train his army and make
real fighters out of them. My comrades and I aren't
Jeshandi, but we ride and fight well enough for the job.
'A month after we signed on, we got our first glimpse
of the invaders. A company much like yours, about sixty
seasoned fighters, rode skirmish against our forward
position, then retreated without doing or taking much
harm. We reported the contact and settled in to wait for
the next assault.
'We woke up one day and the sky was brown with dust
to the northwest. A week later, ten thousand men and
horses rode into view.'
Zila laughed a bitter laugh. 'Old Bilbari messed his
pants but good, and I'll tell you he wasn't the only one
with brown breeches that day. There were maybe two
hundred of us in a fortification not as stout as this one,
and it took us all of a minute to decide to get the hell
out.
'By the time we reached the city walls, every company
to the north and west of the city was also heading in.
There was no fighting except at the city wall. Then from
that day forward, they just came at us.'
He glanced at the faces in the pavilion, as now every
eye was upon him and every man listened closely. 'Some
of the boys gave as good as they got, and by the third
month of siege, those pretty home-guard soldiers of the
Raj had turned into as tough a bunch as I've seen. And
they fought for their homes, so they were more motivated
than we were.'

I

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN  347

He fell silent. Calis said nothing for a long while, until
finally he asked, 'When did they call for surrender?'
Zila looked uncomfortable. 'That was what caused
everything to fall apart.'
Erik knew from what he had heard around camp that
the behavior of mercenaries was strictly governed by

convention and tradition. Zila's manner suggested something
out of the ordinary had occurred.
At last Calis asked, 'What?'
'They didn't call for surrender. They just came to the
limit of our arrows and started digging, setting up their
siege trenches and readying their engines. For a week
there was no real fighting, just a few shots from the walls
to keep them alert. The Raj was a brave enough man for
someone who had never held more than a ceremonial
sword in his life, and he stood at the head of his army . . .'
Zila closed his eyes. He covered them with his hand, and
for a moment Erik thought he might be weeping. When
he removed his hand, Erik didn't see tears, but he did see
bottled-up rage.
'The silly bastard stood there, wearing a gods-thrice-damned
golden crown, holding a peacock fan of office,
while those lizards rode around below his walls. He commanded
them to leave.'
Calis said, 'What else?'
'He couldn't understand that this was no war out on the
plain over control of trading routes or to settle some matter
of honor with the Raj of Maharta or the Priest-King of
Lanada. He didn't understand even when they swarmed
into his palace and started cutting up his wives and
children in front of his eyes . . .' Zila closed his eyes, and
then whispered, 'I don't think he understood when they
hoisted him up and impaled him before his own palace.'
'Impaled him?' blurted Erik.
Calis looked at him for a moment, then said, 'What
aren't you telling?'

Ir

348        RAYMOND E. FEIST

'Ah, it's a nasty business,' said Zila. 'And I speak ill of
the dead to repeat it. And of myself, truth to tell.'
'You're protected by the peace of the camp,' ren-dnded
Praji, his ugly face turned even less appealing by dark
suspicion. 'Did you turn coat?'
Zila nodded. 'My captain, and the others...' He
seemed lost in the tale and said, 'You know there are
ways in and out of a city under siege, for a crafty man
with enough money. The lizards didn't ask for our
surrender. They just came at us again and again. The men
fighting with them were worse than any I've met, and
I've met some black-hearted murderers in my time. But
the lizards. . .' He took a long drink. 'They stand nine,
ten feet tall, and they're as broad as two men across the
shoulders. One blow with their sword can numb a strong
man's arm to the shoulder or split a shield. And they
have no fear. They didn't attack until the wall was
breached.' He shook his head. 'Until we quit the wall and
gave it to them.
'They sent an agent who found my captain and some
others and told us there would be no formal offer of truce
and that after the battle, those in the city would be put to
the sword. They said those of us who abandoned the
walls and stood aside would be free to join in the looting.'
Praji looked ready to attack the man, as he slowly rose.
He stared at Zila for a long, dark moment, then spit on
the ground and left. Calis seemed more interested in facts
than in condemning the man. 'What else?'
'The captains brought the offer to us. We knew we
were beaten. Every day more men and supplies would
come downriver to bolster them, while we grew weaker.
Someone had set fire to a grain warehouse'- Erik winced
in anticipation; he knew that grain dust in the air could
explode if touched by spark or match; that was why
no
fire was permitted near the mill or the grain silos near
Ravensburg - 'and the explosion took out half the

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN  349

supplies of grain as well as a block of dwellings. Someone
else poisoned a good amount of the wine being harbored
near the palace, and at least a score of men died screaming
as they held their bellies.' He closed his eyes, and this
time a tear did fall, one of rage and frustration as well as
regret. 'And their danm spellcasters. The Raj had hired
his own, and some were good. A few priests were there,

too, healing the wounded and sick. But the lizard
magicians were stronger. Strange noises would come
during battle, and a man would feel terror no matter how
well the fight went. Rats came boiling out of the sewers
in broad daylight to bite your ankles and climb up your
legs. There were clouds of gnats and flies so thick you
inhaled them. or swallowed them if you opened your
mouth.
'Fresh bread turned moldy moments after being taken
from the oven, and milk soured in the bucket below the
cow. And every day the lizards dug their trenches and
turned their siege engines and kept hammering at us.'
Zila looked around at the faces. 'I don't know if you'd
have done different in my place, but I doubt it.' His tone
was defiant. 'My Captain came to us and told us what
was going to happen, and we knew he wouldn't lie to us.
We knew he was no coward.'He said to Calis, accusingly,
'You said you knew him?'
Calis nodded. 'He was no coward.'
'It was the lizards that broke the compact. They
changed the rules of war. They gave us no choice.'
'How did you escape?' asked a voice from behind, and
Erik turned to see de Loungville, who had come up
sometime during the narrative.
'Something the lizard's agent said bothered my Captain.
I don't know exactly what, but I do know that when
they impaled the Raj in front of his own people, they told
everyone still alive that they could either sit a stake next
to their former ruler or serve.'

I

350        RAYMOND E. FEIST

'You weren't given the day's grace to quit the field?' said
Foster, from behind de Loungville, and Erik stepped aside
so they could see Zila better.
'We weren't given enough time, to pick up our own kits!
But Bilbari knew they were up to something and had us
gather by the smallest gate to the south. We fought our
way out, and they were too busy to send anyone after us.
That's where our Captain died, leading us out of the city
we had betrayed.'
Calis said, 'It was your Captain's choice.'
Zila said, 'I'd be a liar if I told you. We're regulars, and
until then every man had a contract with Bilbari. We
voted on it, like regulars do.'
'How did you vote?' demanded de Loungville.
'Does it matter?'
'You're damn right it matters,' he answered, his face set
in an angry mask. 'Turning coat is the lowest thing a man
can do.'
Zila said, 'Every man voted to leave.'
Calis said, 'You have the peace of the camp until sunrise
the day after tomorrow. See that you're gone by then.'
He rose, and as he left the pavilion, Erik hurried after
him. 'Captain!'
Calis halted, and Erik was shocked at the anger he read
in the half-elf's face. 'What?'
'Some of their horses need to lie up. If they don't, give
them another couple of days and they're useless.'
'That's Zila and his companions' problem.'
'Captain, I don't give a nail's head for Zila and his men.
I'm thinking of the horses.'
Calis looked at Erik, then said, 'Tend the horses as best
you can, but do nothing special for them. Hay and water,
that's all we'll give them. What they buy from the villagers
is their own business.'
'There's a man named Rian who wants to know if we'll
take him. Says he doesn't want to lie around Maharta.'

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 35I

t I

Calis was silent for a moment. Finally he said, 'If one of
those turncoats is in sight when the sun reaches the
sky the day after tomorrow, he will be killed.'
Erik nodded and returned to the remounts. There he
found Rian and said, 'My Captain says we have no
room.,

The man's expression shifted, and for an instant Erik
thought he'd appeal, but at last he said, 'Very well. Will
you sell horses?'
Erik said, 'I don't think it would earn me my
Captain's thanks to keep you here.' Lowering his voice,
he said, 'Keep what little gold you have. Take that
buckskin gelding over there.' He motioned toward the
horse. 'He's just come sound from a stocked-up leg -~- he
got it kicking out for no damn reason at all - and he's
got rocks for brains. But he's fit enough to get you out
of here in two days.'
The man named Rian said, 'I don't think I'll wait that
long. My Captain's dead, and so are Bilbari's Regulars
with him. I'm heading south to find a billet before word
gets down there. Once a man's labeled turncoat, no one
will ever trust him.'
Erik nodded. 'Zila said you had no choice.'
Rian spat. 'A man always has a choice. Sometimes it's
to die with honor or live without, but there's always a
choice. That pretty Raj was a man. He might never have
fought a day in his life, but when it came time to
surrender he spit over the wall. He cried like a baby
when they hoisted him up onto the stake, and he
howled like a broken-backed dog when he felt it coming
up his gut. But even while he hung there with his own
shit and blood running down the pole, he never asked
for mercy, and if Khali-shi' - he used the local name for
the Goddess of Death, who judges the lives of men ~
'has any goodness in her, she'll give him another chance
on the Wheel.'

352        RAYMOND E. FEIST

Erik said, 'Zila said you were never offered the chance
of surrender.'
'Zila's a lying sack of pig guts. He was our corporal,
and with the Captain and sergeant dead he thinks he's
our Captain. No one's killed him yet because we're all
too damn tired.'
'Come with me,' said Erik.
He led Rian to the hut Calis used as his office and
quarters and asked to see the Captain. When Calis appeared,
he looked at Rian, then at Erik. 'What?'
'I think you should hear this man out,' said Erik.
Turning to Rian, he said, 'What about the offer to
surrender?'
Rian shrugged. 'The Raj told the lizards he would
bum in hell before he'd open the gates of his city to
them. But he offered any captain who wanted to quit
the city the chance to leave - without pay, of course.'
Rian sighed. 'If you knew Bilbari, you'd know he was
one greedy son of a mule. He took a bonus for staying,
then made a deal with the lizards to betray the city and
join in the looting.' He shook his head. 'But that was the
joke. It was the worst betrayal of all: as soon as the fires
started and the looting began, they hunted down the
mercenary companies one at a time. Those that stood
died, and those that surrendered were given the choice
of swearing service or taking the stake. No day's grace,
no laying down of weapons and walking away, nothing.
Serve or die. A few of us managed to get free.'
Calis shook his head. 'How could you betray your
vow?'
'I never did,' said Rian, with what was the closest to a
show of emotion Erik had seen so far. He stared Calis in
the eyes and repeated, 'I never did. We were a regular
company, soldiers for life, sworn in oath as brothers. We
voted, and those who voted to stay and fight were on
the losing side. But we swore an oath to each other long

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN  353

before we took the Raj's gold, and damn me if I'd leave a
brother for being wrong-headed.'
'Then why did you seek service with us?'
'Because Bilbari's dead and our brotherhood
broken.' He looked genuinely sad. 'If you knew Bilbari,
you also knew he had his own way of taking care of his
men. Some of us were with him ten, fifteen years, Captain.
He was nobody's father, but he was everyone's
eldest brother. And he'd kill the first man who harmed
one of his own. I've been selling my sword since I was

fifteen years old, and it's the only family I've known. But
it's a dead family now. After Khaipur, no man will have
us to service, and that means being a bandit or starving.'
'What will you do?' said Calis.
'I'd like to head out tonight and get a march on this
news heading south. Maybe catch a boat out of Maharta
if I can't find a billet there, head up coast to the City of
the Serpent River or down to Chatisthan, someplace
nobody knows me. I'll find another company who'll hire
me, or a merchant needing a bodyguard.' He looked to
the north for a moment with a thoughtful expression.
'But with what's up there, I don't know that any of us
can find a peaceful life anywhere. I've never seen war
like this before. You saw the smoke, Captain?'
Calis nodded.
'They fired the city when they were through. I don't
mean a fire here or there, but the entire city. We saw
from a ridge to the south before we ran for our lives, but
we saw.' His voice lowered as if he was afraid someone
might overhear. 'From one end to the other the fire
burned, and the smoke rose so high it flattened and
spread through the clouds like a big tent. Soot rained
from the sky for days. Twenty, thirty thousand soldiers
standing shoulder to shoulder before the gates, shouting
and laughing, chanting and singing as they killed those
who wouldn't serve their cause. And I saw her.'

354

RAYMOND E. FEIST

'Who?' said Calis with sudden interest.
'The Emerald Queen, some call her. In the distance.
Couldn't see her face, but I saw a company of lizards on
those damn big horses of theirs, and a big wagon,
bigger'n anything I've ever seen before, and on the
wagon was this big golden throne, and this woman sat
there, in a long robe. You could see the green flicker of
the emeralds at her throat and wrists, and she had a
crown with emeralds. And the lizards all went wild,
hissing and chanting, and even some of the men, those
who'd been with them long enough, they all bowed
when she came by.'
'You've been helpful,' said Calis. 'Take a fresh horse
and whatever food you need and slip out at the guard
change at sundown.' Rian saluted and left.
Erik turned to leave and Calis said, 'Keep what you
heard to yourself.'
Erik nodded. Then he said, 'Captain, the horses?'
Calis shook his head. 'Very well. Do what you can, but
nothing that diminishes our ability to care for our own
animals. No medicines you can't replace ... easily replace.'

Erik was about to say thank you, but Calis turned and
reentered the hut, leaving him alone. After a moment he
headed back to the horses; there was a great deal of work
to do, and some of Zila's companions would be leaving
on foot in two days if he didn't work miracles.

'Erik!'
Erik looked up to see Embrisa standing nearby, just
outside the corral where he was examining a horse's leg,
and he said, 'Hello.'
Shyly she said, 'Can you have supper tonight?'
Erik smiled. The girl had asked him twice before, so he
could meet her father and mother - though he already
had in the market and knew them by sight, she wanted a

I

I

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 355

formal meeting. It was becoming clear she had decided
that Erik should court her, and he was both flattered and
disturbed by the attention.
She would be of marrying age in another two years in

Ravensburg, but that was Ravensburg. The people here
were much poorer, and children meant hands that could
work at three years of age, out in the field gleaning grain
that fell from the stalks as the crops were harvested,
helping with the heavy work by six or seven years. A boy
was a man at twelve, and a father at fifteen.
He crossed to the rails, and climbed over, stepping
down next to her. 'Come here,' he said quietly. She
stepped closer and he looked down and put his hand on
her shoulder. He kept his voice low as he said, 'I like you
very much. You're as nice a girl as I've met, but I'm going
to be leaving soon.'
'You could stay,' she said in ~ rush. 'You're only a
mercenary, and you can leave the company. A smith
would be a man of importance here, and you'd quickly
become a leader.'
Erik was suddenly aware that besides being pretty, she
was also a cunning girl who had sized up the most likely
man in the company to become rich - at least by village
standards - should he remain and ply a trade.
'Isn't there a boy here -'he began.
'No,' she said, half in anger, half in embarrassment.
'Most of them are already married or too young. The girls
outnumber them because of the wars.'
Erik nodded. His own company, though composed of
condemned men, numbered more than one former
farmer's son who had left home to seek his fortune as a
soldier or bandit.
Suddenly Roo was standing beside them, and Erik
knew he had overheard the entire conversation, though
he pretended not to, by saying, 'Embrisa! I didn't see you
there. How are you?'

356        RAYMOND E. FEIST

'Fine,' she said, lowering her eyes; her sullen tone
showed she wasn't.
As if nothing was amiss, Roo said, 'Did you talk to
Henrik today?'
Erik knew who Roo spoke of, a young man from a
village not too far from Ravensburg who served with
another squad, but one whom he had barely exchanged a
dozen words with over the course of his travels. Henrik
was a dull man with little to say.
'No, not today,' answered Erik, wondering what Roo
was leading up to.
Lowering his voice, Roo said, 'He says he might come
back here after we're done. Says he likes it and might just
settle down'- he looked at Embrisa -'find a wife, and set
up a mill.'
Embrisa's eyes widened. 'He's a miller?'
'His father was one, or so he says.'
Embrisa said, 'Well, I must go. Sorry you can't come to
supper, Erik.'
After the girl was gone, Erik said, 'Thanks.'
'I was over there and heard what was going on,'
said Roo with a grin. 'I figure a miller is the only one
likely to make more money here than a smith, so
I thought I'd give your young friend another
target.'
Erik said, 'Is Henrik really thinking of staying, or are
you just making trouble?'
'Well, I don't know how much trouble, given she's a
saucy lass with an ample bosom and a firm young
bottom. If she nets our friend the miller's son, who
knows? It could be true love, and he could indeed be
thinking of staying by tomorrow.'
Erik shook his head. 'Or hiding from her father.'
'Maybe, but as her father's downriver with his, wife
and their sons, leaving Embrisa here alone, I suspect she
was laying a snare for you.' He glanced at where the girl

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN  357

had gone. 'Though I think it might have been a pleasant
one for a night.'
'The girl's not yet fifteen years old, Roo,' said Erik.
'Around here, that's old enough for motherhood,'
answered Roo. 'Anyway, it won't do the lass much good
getting either of you in her bed, 'cause the Captain's not
likely to let any of us wander off.'
'True,' agreed Erik.
'And besides, we're leaving in two days.'
,what?'

'Riders from the south came in about ten minutes ago
with messages. Some more soldiers are joining us in two
days' time, and we all ride north.'
'Well, I'd better get to work,' said Erik. 'I've got to sort
out this horse business with Zila's men. I think we'll
have to leave about a dozen horses here.'
'The villagers will love that,' said Roo with a grin.
'The ones they can't use for plowing they'll eat.'
Erik nodded, knowing he wasn't really joking. 'Come
on, give me a hand.'
Roo grumbled, but he followed Erik back into the
corral to cut out the lame horses.

Erik looked toward the southern gate expectantly. Zila
and his renegades had left the night before, as agreed,
and now the new company from the south that was to
join them was coming in ahead of schedule. De
Loungville had already passed word: if the southern
riders showed up before noon, they were off as soon as
the company was mustered, all save a dozen men who
would hold this fortress against the need of a southern
retreat. Now the work made sense to Erik. A dozen
well-armed soldiers could hold this village against up to
three times that number of bandits, and if the villagers
joined in the fight, it would require a small army to take
it.

iv

358

RAYMOND E. FEIST

Already, without the order being given, men were
hurrying to get ready to move out. Then Erik caught sight
of a familiar figure among those riding in the gate.
'Greylock!' Erik exclaimed.
Owen Greylock turned. Gripping Erik's arm in a
gesture of greeting, he then pulled him to his chest with a
slap on the back. Releasing the young man, he said, 'You
look well.'
'We thought we spied that grey banner of yours on the
deck of the Ranger one day in passage, but we didn't see
you come ashore.'
Pulling loose a scarf that had been around his face to
cut the road dust, the former Swordmaster of Darkmoor
said, 'That's because I didn't. I sailed on with a couple of
others to the City of the Serpent River to make some
arrangements, then on to Maharta to take care of some
other matters. After the Ranger left for Krondor, it was
ride like hell for a week getting up to Lanada, then
another back-breaker getting here.'
Soldiers in various dress were riding in the south gate.
'Who are they?' asked Erik dubiously.
'Don't let the ragged cut of their outfits fool you. Those
are some of the best soldiers from around these parts,
hand-picked by our friend Praji over the last few years.'
Lowering his voice, he said, 'We need to blend in.'
'What are you doing here?' asked Erik. 'Last I saw of
you was before I was arrested.'
'Long story. Let me report to Calis, and after we've
watered our mounts, share a cup of wine with me and I'll
tell you all.'
'It's going to have to be at camp tonight,' answered
Erik. 'We leave in an hour. You've only got time to pick
some fresh mounts and grab a bite before we're on our
way.'
Greylock groaned. 'That bastard isn't giving a man's
spine a hope of recovery, is he?'

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 359

I fear not. Come on, I've got sonic fine horses and I'll
pick out one for you with a soft back.'
Greylock laughed and said, 'Lead on.'

SIXTEEN

Rendezvous

Calis signaled a halt.
Erik and his companions, first company in line behind
Calis and de Loungville, reined in and passed word back
for the halt. Owen Greylock was riding with Calis, and
Erik hadn't found the opportunity to talk to him.
Two scouts who had ridden ahead at first light were
galloping down the road. One of them, a clansman
whose name was unknown to Erik said, 'A merchant
caravan's been taken an hour ahead. They tried to stand
and fight, but there were no more than six guards for six
wagons.'
De Loungville said, 'The merchant was traveling
light.'
The other scout, a man named Durany, said, -they
didn't even have time to stop the wagons. Looks like the
raiders swooped down out of the trees and shot them fun
of arrows before they knew what was happening. The
murderers stripped everyone down to the skin, and took
their armor and weapons and everything else they could
carry.'
Calis asked. 'How many?'
The clansman said, 'Twenty or twenty-five, maybe
more.'
Erik said, 'Where are the bandits?'
Ignoring the source of the question, Calis nodded, and
Durany said, "they headed back into the trees. We
followed their tracks about a hour's ride into the woods,
where they turned south. They've been shadowing the

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN  36I

road since.' He looked around. 'We never overtook them.
They may be looping behind us already.'
'What about the village?' asked de Loungville.
Calis said, 'Our twelve can hold the village if they get
advance warning. But these raiders are acting more like a
mercenary company on a rampage than bandits. If they
come up on the village undetected...' Turning to de
Loungville, he said, 'Bobby, take six men and head back
to the village to warn them. That's the most we can do.
Then catch up as soon as you can.'
De Loungville nodded. 'You come along with me,' he
said to Erik and as they rode past, he motioned for Erik's
five companions to fall in. They pulled out of line, and
soon the seven of them were riding back to the village of
Weanat.

Smoke told them they were too late even before they
could see the fort. As they crested a rise in the road,
they saw the charred ruins of the outer wall and the
still-unfinished tower now blazing like a banner.
Without waiting for orders, Erik spurred his horse forward
to a canter and got as close to the fire as he could.
He called out a few names of villagers he had come to
know, and after a moment a man emerged from the
woods.
'Tarmil!' shouted Erik. 'What happened?'
The villager was covered in soot and looked tired but
otherwise unhurt. 'Those men who were supposed to
leave yesterday morning came back last night with
another band of men, asking to buy provisions. Your
soldiers said no, and they got into an argument over
giving their word and leaving and things I didn't follow.'
He waved up the road. 'While they were shouting at each
0ot
~her at the south gate, this other group climbed over the
north wall and opened the north gate.
'Your men tried to fight, but they were cut down from

I

TI

362        RAYMOND E. FEIST

two sides. Most of us who could slipped out the south
gate, or climbed the walls; then someone set a fire. The
bandits didn't trouble most of us after that; they were too
busy trying to steal whatever they could before everything
burned up.'
'Did everyone get out?'
Tarmil shook his head. 'No. I don't think so. Some of
the men, I don't know from which band, took out to the
hills there, with two of our women. Drak's wife, Finia,
and Embrisa, maybe some others.'
De Loungville came up and said, 'Don't you ever go
riding off like that without leave.'
'They've taken some of the women up into the hills.'
De Loungville swore. 'I told Calis -' He cut himself off
before he said anything more. He looked at Tarmil. 'How
long ago and how many men?'
'Less than an hour and about five or six.'
'Spread out,' ordered de Loungville. 'See if you can
spot any tracks.'
Natombi found tracks indicating that a large band of
riders went south, while Sho Pi found signs of another,
smaller, group heading into the hills. De Loungville
motioned for the former monk and Keshian Legionary to
take the point and begin to follow.
They had only a short way to go before the screams
of women revealed the bandits' whereabouts. De
Loungville motioned for the six riders to dismount and
spread out, and moved quietly toward the sounds.
Erik had his shield on his arm and his sword out a
moment after tying his horse, and glanced over to see
Roo on his right and Luis on his left. They crept forward
through the trees, and came upon a sight that set Erik's
teeth on edge.
Two men were lying on top of two women, one who
was struggling. The other lay motionless. Three other
men sat close by, drinking from an earthen jug as they

ppl

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN  363

watched the rape. A sad cry was followed by a convulsion
as one of the men finished and stood up, and started
pulling up his trousers. one of the men who had been
drinking tossed aside the jug and started unfastening his

trousers as he came to take the first man's place.
He halted and looked at the still form on the ground,
then said, 'Gods and demons, Culli, you killed her, you
fool!'
'She was biting, so I covered her mouth.'
'You smothered her, you idiot!'
'She's not more than a minute or two dead, Sajer. Go
ahead; she's still warm.'
Erik saw the body and felt his heart lurch. The corpse
was Embrisa. Something strangely familiar struck him,
and for an instant he saw Rosalyn in a similar position,
her clothing torn away. Without thought he rose up and
moved toward the nearest men. One was watching the
argument between his companions, but the other started
to rise. He was halfway off the log where he had sat when
he died: with a single sweeping motion Erik cleaved his
head completely from his shoulders.
Erik's companions charged and shouted, and the four
remaining men scrambled to defend themselves. Erik
crossed to where the man named Sajer stood, while the
one called Culli dashed to where his sword and shield lay.
Sajer pulled his only weapon, a dagger at his belt, and
Erik advanced upon him like death come into human
form.
Fear crossed the man's face as Erik bore down on him,
and he made ready to defend himself as best he could. He
lunged in feint with his dagger, but Erik only stepped
forward, bashing with his shield, knocking him to the
ground. He raised his sword above his head, then
brought it down with a thundering blow, cutting completely
through Sajer's upraised forearm, slicing him
from shoulder to belly.

I

364        RAYMOND E. FEIST

Erik had to put his foot on the man's chest to pull free
his sword, and when he did he turned to see that the
remaining three men had taken off their helms and
thrown weapons to the ground, the sign among
mercenaries of surrender. Erik's eyes were wild and wide
as he looked at the man named Culli. He walked purposefully
toward him.
De Loungville stepped before Erik and, using all his
strength, pushed him backwards. It was like trying to
move a tree, but he did slow Erik's forward advance. 'Get
a hold of yourself, von Darkmoor!'he commanded.
Erik paused at the sound of his name. He looked to
where the two women lay. Finia had all her clothing tom
from her, and lay motionless in the grass, the only sign
she was still alive being the slow rise and fall of her small
breasts. Embrisa lay a short distance away, also nude, but
bloody from belly to knee. Erik turned to stare at the man
named Culli. 'He dies. Now. Slowly.'
De Loungville said, 'Did you know her?'
'Yes,' answered Erik, part of his mind being surprised
de Loungville didn't. 'She was fourteen.'
One of the captives said, 'They was villagers! We didn't
know they belonged to anyone.'
Erik advanced, and this time de Loungville threw his
shoulder into him. knocking him back a step. 'You stand
fast when I tell you!' he shouted at Erik.
Turning to face the three men, he said, 'What company?'

The man named Culli said, 'Well, Captain, we've been
sort of looking out for ourselves lately.'
'Did you hit that caravan a half day's ride north of
here?'
A grin of broken and blackened teeth greeted the question. '
Well now, it wouldn't be the truth if we took credit
for it all by ourselves. There were another six or,seven
boys in on that one. But they joined up with some men

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN  365

who wanted to raid that fort at the village. Fat man, rode
a big roan horse, he took them all together.'
'Zila,' said de Loungville. 'I'll settle up with him someday.'

Culli continued, 'We was watching from the woods
and got in to grab what we would when they started to
leave. We saw these two women getting out of a burning
house, so we decided to have some fun.' He nodded

at the still-living but stunned Finia and the dead
Embrisa. 'We didn't mean to be so rough, but these was
the only two we could find, and there's five of us. We'll
pay you gold if they was yours, Captain, to make up for
it, you see. We won't even say nothing about the two
boys you already killed. We only killed the one. Two for
one seems more than fair. Give the other a couple of
hours to rest and, why, she could service all six of you
and a couple of us in the bargain.'
'On your knees,' commanded De Loungville. Biggo,
Natombi, and Luis forced the three men to their knees,
holding them fast.
'I want that one,' said Erik, pointing at Culli. 'I'm going
to stake him out facedown over an anthill and watch him
die screaming.'
De Loungville turned and struck Erik as hard across the
face as he could. Erik staggered, fell to his knees, and
could barely retain consciousness from the unexpected
blow.
When his vision cleared, he saw de Loungville come up
behind the first man. With an economy of motion he
pulled his dagger, grabbed the man's hair, and pulled
back his head, cutting his throat with a single slice.
The other two tried to rise, but Biggo and Luis kept
them under control. Before Erik could regain his feet, the
other two men had been executed. Erik took one staggering
step, then shook his head to clear it. He came to stand
over the body of Culli and looked at de Loungville, who
said, 'See to the woman.' When Erik hesitated, he                                     
shouted, 'Now!'                           
Erik and Roo moved to where Finia lay, eyes staring                             
vacantly at the sky. When they knelt over her, her eyes                               
seemed to focus for the first time. Recognizing Erik and                         
Roo, she said in a whisper, 'Is it over?'
Erik nodded, and Roo took off his cloak and used it to                          
cover her. Erik helped the woman get to her feet, and she                        
wobbled as she rose. Roo put his arm around her, to                            
steady her, and she looked over at Embrisa. 'I told her to                       
do as they said. She scratched and bit them. She was                                  
screaming and crying, and her nose stuffed up; when                              
they covered her mouth, she couldn't breathe.'                                        
Erik inclined his head to Roo to take her to where the                          
horses were. He took off his own cloak and wrapped                               
Embrisa in it. Lifting her, he carried her as if she were                        
asleep. Softly he said, 'Now you'll never find that rich                         
husband.'
Erik was the last to reach the horses, and found de
Loungville holding his reins. He handed the girl's body to                       
the sergeant, mounted, then took the corpse as de                                
Loungville handed her up to him. After the sergeant had                               
mounted his own horse, Erik said, 'You let them off                              
easy.'                                    
De Loungville said, 'I know.'            
'They should have died over a slow fire.' 
'They deserved to suffer, but I'll not visit that on any                        
man.'                                     
'Why? Why do you care what happens to scum like                                 
them?'                                    

De Loungville moved his horse alongside Erik's, so he                                
was almost nose-to-nose with Erik when he answered. 'i                           
don't care what happens to scum like them. You could                             
cut off a piece at a time over a week and I wouldn't give a                      
whore's promise for what it would do to them. But I do                           
care what it would do to you, Erik.'
Without waiting for an answer, de Loungville
moved away and shouted, 'Let's get back to the village. We've
got a hell of a ride before we catch up with the
Captain.'
Erik rode after him, not sure what de Loungville had
meant, but feeling troubled by what he had said.

They reached Calis's camp an hour after dark. As before,
he had ordered a complete fortification dug, and as
de Loungville and the others approached, a guard challenged
them.
'Well done,' said a weary de Loungville. 'Now,lower
the gate or I'll rip your ears from your head.'
No one in Calis's company could fail to recognize that
voice, so without a further remark the drop bridge was
run out across the trench surrounding the camp. The
horses' hooves clattered on the wood and iron as the
riders crossed, and when they reached the center of
The camp, Calis stood waiting.
'Zila and the bandits joined up and fired the village.
Most got away.' He glanced at Erik. 'They killed a girl and
we killed the five of them that did it.'
Calis nodded, motioning for de Loungville to join
him in his command tent. Erik took the reins of de
Loungville's horse and led him with his own to where
the remounts were waiting. it took him better than an
hour to cool down the horses, clean hooves and saddle
marks, and bedded them down with fresh fodder. By the
time he was finished, he was aching to his bones, and he
knew it was more than just the fatigue of the ride and
fighting. The killing of the men had been so effortless.
As he walked back to where his companions were
erecting their tent, he recalled what he had done. The
first man he had struck had been an obstacle,nothing
more. He hadn't been trying to decapitate him, only to
brush him aside. Luis had said something later about its

being a terrible blow, as was the cleaving of the second
man Erik had faced, but Erik thought it a distant act, as if
someone else had been doing the fighting. He could
remember the smells: the smoke of the burning village
and the campfire in the clearing, the stench of sweat and
feces mixed in with the iron bite of blood and the stink of
fear. He felt the shock of the blows he delivered running
up his arm, and the pounding of his own blood in his
forehead, but it was all distant, muted, and he couldn't
find it within himself to grapple with and understand
what had occurred.
He knew he had wanted Embrisa's killer to suffer. He
knew he wanted the man to feel her pain a thousand
times over, yet now he was dead, feeling nothing. If
Biggo was to be believed, the man was being judged by
the Death Goddess, but whatever the truth, he was feeling
none of this life's pain.
Maybe de Loungville was right. Erik thought he was
the one who was now suffering, and it made him both
sad and angry. He reached the tent and found that Roo
had taken Erik's section of tent and erected it, so that the
six-man dwelling was up and waiting for him.
Erik looked at his boyhood friend and said, 'Thank
you.'
Roo said, 'Well, you spend enough time looking out for
my horse.'
'And mine,' said Biggo.
'And everyone else's,' said Luis. 'Do you think we
should pay this boy for being so good to us?'
Erik looked over at Luis, whose sense of humor was
rarely in evidence, and saw that the often short-tempered
Rodezian was looking at him with a rare warmth in
his expression.
Biggo said, 'Well, maybe. Or we could do his bit with
setting up and tearing down the tent, like We did
tonight.'
'I can manage my own weight,' said Erik. 'No one
.needs to do for me.' He heard an irritation in his voice
that was unexpected. Suddenly he discovered he was
feeling very angry.
Biggo reached from his bedroll across the narrow aisle
separating the three bunks on each side and said, 'We
know, lad. You do more than your share, that's all. No
one's said anything, but you've become the Horsemaster
for our little company of cutthroats.'

At the mention of the word 'cutthroat' Erik was struck
by the image of the three men being butchered by de
Loungville. Suddenly he felt sick and his body felt
flushed, as if fever was coming over him. Closing his eyes
a second, he said, 'Thank you. I know you mean well. . .'
He paused for a moment, then stood as upright as he
could in the low tent and walked away. 'I'll be back. I
need some air.'
'Guard duty in two hours,' Roo called after him.
Walking through the camp, Erik tried to calm himself.
He found his stomach clenched and he felt as if he might
be sick. Running for the privy trench, he barely got there
in time to keep from fouling his pants.
After agonizing minutes of squatting and feeling as if
he was passing fire, he felt his stomach twist, and
suddenly he was vomiting into the trench. When he at
last finished, he felt as if he had no strength left. He went
to the edge of the nearby stream and cleaned himself up,
then he returned to the cookfire, where he found Owen
Greylock helping himself to a bowl of stew and a hunk of
bread.
Despite having lost everything in his gut only moments
before, Erik was suddenly ravenous as he smelled the
stew. He grabbed a wooden bowl as Owen greeted him
and watched while Erik scooped out a large bowl of stew,
ignoring the hot liquid as it covered his hand to the wrist.
'Look out!' said Owen. 'Gods, you're going to boil
yourself.'
Erik lifted the bowl to his lips and took a long sip, then
said, 'Heat doesn't bother me. I think it's the years at the
forge. Now, cold, that makes me hurt.'
owen laughed. 'Hungry?'
Erik tore a large piece of bread off one of the loaves on
the serving table and said, 'Can we talk for a minute?'
Owen motioned for Erik to sit on a log that had been
felled to provide a rude bench for men eating. No one
else was nearby save the two men who would clean up
the cook area and ready it for the morning meal before
turning in.
Owen said, 'Where do you want to begin?'
Erik said, 'I want to know how you got here, but first,
can I ask you something?'
'Certainly.'
'When you kill a man, how does that make you feel?'
Owen was silent and then blew out his cheeks and let a
long breath slowly escape. 'That's a difficult one, isn't it?'
He fell silent a minute, then said, 'I've killed men two
ways, Erik. As my lord's Swordmaster I was dispenser of
the high justice and I've hung more than one man. It's
different each time, and never easy. And it depends on
why I'm hanging them. Murderers, rapists, thugs,
they ... I don't feel much of anything, except relief
when it's over. When it's something dicey, like your
execution was set to be, then it's a nasty business. I feel
like taking a long, long hot bath afterward, though I
rarely get the chance.
'When it comes to battle, things just happen too
quickly and you're usually too busy staying alive to think
about it. Does that answer you?'
Erik nodded as he munched on soggy vegetables. 'In a
way. Did you ever want to see someone suffer?'
Owen scratched his head at this. 'Can't say as I have.
I've wanted to see a few men dead, but suffer? Not
really.'
'I wanted to see a man feel pain today.' Erik explained
about Embrisa and how he had wanted to make her
killer experience a long, slow, terrible death. When
he finished, he added, 'Then I found I could barely

keep my arse closed. Flux and then throwing up.
Then suddenly I'm here eating like nothing happened.'
'
Rage does strange things to you,' Owen said. 'You're
not going to like hearing this, I think, but the only two
other men I've known who felt as you say you did were
your father and . . . Stefan.'
Erik shook his head and laughed ruefully. 'You're
right. I didn't like hearing that.'
'Your father only got that way with rage. if he was
angry, he'd rather have seen his enemy injured and in
pain than dead. But that was the only time.' His voice
lowered. 'Stefan was worse. He really enjoyed watching
people suffer. He got . . . excited by it. Your father had to
bribe more than one father off because his daughter
was ... damaged.'
-^at about Manfred?'
Owen shrugged. 'Given who his parents are, he's a
decent enough person. You'd like him, given a chance to
know each other, but that's neither here nor there.'
Owen studied Erik, then said, 'I've known you a long
time, since you were a baby, Erik, and while you have
-some of your father in you, you don't have only your
father's blood in you. Your mother can be a hard woman,
but she was never a mean one. She's never hurt anyone
for pleasure. And you can bet that Stefan was the worst
mix of his father and mother.
'I think I can understand why you'd be so ferocious
with the man who killed the girl. You were fond of her, I
take it?'
'In a way.' Erik smiled. 'She tried to cozen me into her
bed so she could be the village smith's wife.' He shook his
head in regret. 'She was so obvious and there was no art
to it, but in a way. . .'
'It made you feel good?'
'Yes.'
Owen nodded. 'We all have our vanity, and a pretty
girl's attentions are rarely unwelcomed by any man.'
'But it doesn't explain why I wanted to see that man
hurt so much. I can still feel it, Owen. If I could raise him
from the dead and cause him to scream in agony, I think
I'd do it.'
'Justice, maybe. The girl died in agony, and he got a
simple death in return.'
A voice from the dark said, 'Sometimes revenge goes
disguised as justice.'
Both Owen and Erik turned to see Nakor entering from
the darkness. 'I was out walking and heard you talk.
Sounds like an interesting discussion.' Without asking
their leave, he sat down.
Erik said, 'I was telling Owen here what happened
today. Have you heard?'
Nakor nodded. 'Sho Pi told me. You were in a rage.
You wanted to cause this man pain. Bobby kept you from
indulging in his suffering.'
Erik nodded.
Nakor said, 'Some men take to the pain in others the
way other men take to strong drink or potent drugs. if
you recognize that appetite in yourself early and learn to
master it within yourself, you'll be the better man for
knowing, Erik.'
'I don't know what I wanted,' Erik admitted. 'I don't
know if it was that he didn't suffer enough or if I really
wanted to see something in his eyes as he died.'
Owen said, 'Most soldiers are struck by others' death
after the fact. That you got sick
Nakor said, 'You got sick?'
'Like I had eaten green apples,' admitted Erik.
Nakor grinned. 'Then you're not a man to eat poison
and like it. If you hadn't gotten sick, it would be because
that poison of hate found a home in your gut.' He
reached over and poked a finger into Erik's side. 'You ate
the hatred, but your body threw it up as if it were those
green apples.' He smiled, apparently satisfied with the

explanation. 'Do your reiki each night and let your mind
seek calmness and you will survive the terrors you've just
met.'
Owen and Erik exchanged looks that said neither man
knew what Nakor was talking about. Erik said, 'Now tell
me how you came here?'
owen said, 'That was due to you.'
'Me?'
owen said, 'When you were caught, my lady Mathilda
and your half brother raced to Krondor, to ensure the
Prince knew you were to be hung without question.
'When we got there, I asked a friend in the Prince's
court to grant me an audience with Nicholas, and I tried
to give him some idea of how you'd been dealt with as a
child.' He shrugged. 'It obviously didn't do any good, as
you were to be hung, and the Dowager Baroness discovered
I had tried to intercede upon your behalf.' He
looked at Erik and smiled. 'I was asked to retire from my
office. Manfred said he regretted to ask, but she is his
mother, after all.'
'I've never met her, but she seems a most persuasive
woman, by all reports,' offered Nakor.
'That's one way of putting it,' said Owen. 'Well, there
isn't a great demand for discharged Swordmasters, so I
applied to the Prince's Guard for a billet. I was prepared
to stand down to man-at-arms if needs be, or to attempt
to gain a commission on the frontier. Failing that, I was
going to try my hand at the mercenary trade, providing
escort for merchant trains down into the Vale of Dreams
and Great Kesh.
'But that black heart Bobby de Loungville found me at a
tavern and got me very drunk, and I woke up the next day
and discovered I was going to be running like a madman
from Questor's View to Land's End on one errand or
another for Prince Nicholas and Calis.'
Owen continued, 'That's a strange customer, our Captain.
Did you know he ranks in the court as a Duke?'
Erik said, 'I only know him as -'
'The Eagle of Krondor,' finished Owen. 'I know. He's
important, that's all I know. But when the dust settled, I
was on the Freeport Ranger, with a list of missions to last
three months, and one month to finish them when we
made pqii in Maharta.'
Erik finished his food and said, 'Sorry to have put you to
this, Owen.'
Owen laughed. 'It was in the cards, as the gamblers say.
And truth to tell, I was growing bored at Darkmoor. The
wine's the best in the world, and the women as fair as
anywhere, but there's little else to stir a man there. I've
grown tired of hanging bandits and running escort from
one safe city to another. I think it's time for something
grand.'
Nakor shook his head. 'There's little grand ahead of us.'
He stood up, yawning. 'I'm going to sleep. We have three
long days ahead.'
'Why?' asked Erik.
'While you were killing those men, we got word of a
rendezvous.'
'What is that?'asked Erik. 'I've heard that term before.'
'Meeting,' said Owen.
'A great camp,' offered Nakor. With a grin he said, 'It is
where the two sides in this war will come to make offers
for the service of companies like ours. It's where we will
find the army of this Emerald Queen, and then friend
Greylock's adventure will begin.'He wandered off into the
gloom.
Owen said, 'He may be the strangest man I've met. I've
only talked to him a couple of times since yesterday, but
he has some of the oddest notions I've ever encountered.
But he's right about one thing: it's a long day tomorrow
and we both need to sleep.'
Erik nodded and took Owen's bowl. 'I'll wash that up.
I'm doing mine anyway.'
'Thank you.'

'And thank you,' replied Erik.
'For what?'
'For talking.'
Owen put his hand upon Erik's shoulder. 'Anytime,
Erik. Good night.' He walked after Nakor.
Erik went to the bucket used to clean the wooden
bowls and rinsed them with water, scoured them with
cleaning sand, then rinsed with fresh water again. He put
the bowls where the men who would make the morning
mess would expect to find them, and returned to his own
tent.
The others were sleeping, except Roo, who said, 'Are
you all right?'
Erik sighed and said, 'I don't know. But I am better.'
Roo seemed about to make a remark, then thought
better of it and turned over to go to sleep. Erik lay in the
darkness, and while he intended to practice the selfhealing
Nakor had taught him, sleep was on him less
than a minute after Roo.

The camp was immense. At least ten thousand armed
men were scattered across a low valley that ran from the
hills on the east to the river on the west. Cutting through
the middle was a smaller tributary to the Vedra, and
along this smaller river camps had been made.
The brokers who were conducting the contracts were
arrayed under a large canopy, ocher in color, at the heart
of the valley. Erik rode with his companions in their

376

RAYMOND E. FEIST

usual position near the head of the column, near enough
to Calis to overhear his conversations with the men
around him.
Praji pointed. 'Some of those banners are ' damn
strange; I thought I knew every company worth talking
about in this gods-forsaken continent.' He glanced
around. 'Some of these others are a long way from
home.'
'How is it shaping up?' asked de Loungville.
'It's early yet. Khaipur fell less than a month ago. If the
Emerald Queen's representatives get here in the next
week I'll be surprised. But I'll bet you a whore's hoard
that the Priest-King of Lanada is spending money like a
sailor in port.' Looking around, he said, 'We'd better
head up the valley and see if there's anywhere good near
the river.' He sniffed the air. 'With the number of these
fools pissing in the water after they get drunk, downstream'
s the last place I want to be.'
De Loungville laughed. 'Looks like the best places are
taken.'
'Only if you like the taste of another man's piss in your
water,' said Praji. 'This is just the start. The word's been
about for five years now. There's a big war to end all wars
coming, and any man with a sword who doesn't get in
now -will be out of the looting.' He shook his head.
'Doesn't make much sense, does it? You'd think any man
with eyes in his head could see -'
Calis cut him off with an upraised hand. 'Not here. Too
many cars.'
Praji nodded. 'Look for a red eagle banner, twin to
your own. That'll be Vaja if he's found his way here.'
Calis nodded.
They rode into the camp area, and Erik felt his pulse
race. Never had so many pairs of eyes regarded him with
suspicion. The rendezvous was neutral ground, where
both sides in the coming conflict could recruit mercenary

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN  377

companies to their cause, openly bidding against one
another, and tradition bound every man who entered
sight of the tent to keep his sword sheathed. But tradition
and enforceable law were two different things, and more
than once a battle had erupted at such a meeting. Men in
this camp knew only that those in their own company
were allies. Anyone else might be someone they would
see across the field of battle mere days or weeks after

leaving the rendezvous.
They passed by the large yellowish tent, though on the
other side of the water, as they picked their way upriver,
and away from the main body of men camping. Calis
found a small rise with a flat top that gave a commanding
view of the valley below and motioned to de Loungville
that they would camp there. 'No fortifications; it's against
the compact, but I want double guard. When the whores
come by, let the men indulge, but no strong drink and no
drugs - chase the peddlers away. I'll not have some fool
start a war because he sees the ghost of some enemy in
the smoke and pulls his sword.'
De Loungville nodded and gave the order. Without the
need to dig a trench and rampart, making camp took little
time. When Erik's squad had finished erecting their tent,
Foster came by and gave the rotation for guard duty. Erik
groaned when he was told the second watch, which was
from midnight to two hours before dawn. Sleep interrupted
was as good as not sleeping from his point of view.
Still, after three days in the saddle, a little time to lie
around would be welcome. And if he had the midnight
watch tonight, that meant the dawn watch tomorrow,
and the day after, no watch at all. He found that a little
gratifying, and was glad to have found any reason to feel
good whatsoever.

Trumpets blew and Erik came awake with a start. They
had been in camp for five days now and he was back to a

378        RAYMOND E. FEIST

split night of guard duty. He rolled out of his tent and saw
that everyone was looking down into the valley below.
Roo came to his side and laughed. 'Looks like an anthill
with a stick in it.'
Erik laughed, for Roo was right. There was motion
everywhere. Then Foster was hurrying through camp
shouting, 'Every man to horse! We muster for inspection!'

Erik and Roo turned and went back into their low tent,
grabbing their swords and shields. They hurried to where
other men were already saddling their horses and got
theirs ready. When the order to fall in came, they swung
up into the saddle and moved the horses to their position
in the column. Foster rode by and said, 'Rest awhile, lads.
The shopping is beginning and you'll be doing little for a
day. When the brokers come by, do your best to look
fierce.'
This got a laugh, and Jadow Shati's bass voice carried
from somewhere back in line. 'Just put Jerome in front,
man. That will scare them, don't you know!'
This brought another laugh, and then de Loungville's
voice cut through the air. 'Next man who says anything
better make me laugh, or he'll wish his mother had taken
holy vows of celibacy before he was born!'
The company fell silent.
A hour later the sound of riders came from up the
valley and Erik turned to see a small company of a dozen
men heading their way. At their head was a large man,
grey of hair, but otherwise young-looking. He wore
foppish regalia, and obviously had put much thought
into his appearance, despite being covered with road
dust. At his side rode another carrying a crimson eagle
banner.
'Vaja!' cried Praji as they pulled up. 'You sorry old
peacock II thought someone had killed you out of mercy.
What took you so long?'

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 379

The other man, handsome despite his years, laughed,
and said, 'You found them. If I hadn't heard of the
rendezvous I would still be on my way down to the City
of the Serpent River looking for our good Captain and
this company of sorry fools.'
Calis came riding over as Vaja and his men dismounted. '
You've come just in time. The muster begins
today.'
Vaja looked around. 'There's plenty of time yet. We'll
have three or four days of this at least. Are both sides

here?'
'No word of the Emerald Queen's agents. Just the
Priest-King,' answered Calis.
Vaja said, 'Good. That gives me ample time to bathe
and eat. You won't be taking any offer for days.'
Calis said, 'You know that and I know that, but if we're
to be convincing, they' - he hiked his thumb over his
shoulder in the general direction of the brokers' tent ,
can't know that. We have to look as if we're weighing all
offers equally.'
'Understood,' said Vaja. 'But I still have time for a bath.
I'll be back in an hour.' He turned and led his companions
away.
Praji said, 'Twenty-nine years I've fought at his side,
and I swear to this day no man more vain exists on this
world. He'd primp for his own execution.'
Calis smiled, and Erik realized it was one of the few
times he had ever seen the Captain smile.

For days they would muster on command, and brokers
would come by to look over the company. With Vaja's
men and the men under Hatonis, they numbered better
than,one hundred swords: a significant enough troop to
be taken seriously, but not so large as to bear special
scrutiny.
After the third such day, offers began to come in and

ri IF

380

RAYMOND E. FEIST

Calis listened to them politely. He remained noncommittal.

A week after the mustering had started, Erik noticed a
few companies departing. He asked Praji about this over
supper, and the old mercenary said, 'They've signed on
with the Priest-King. Probably poor captains running low
on gold to pay their men. They have to find employment
quickly or lose their fighters to richer companies. Most
are waiting around to hear what the other side has to
offer.'
Still more days passed and the other side didn't appear.

Two weeks after arriving, Erik had requested permission
to move the horses upriver, as they had grazed the area
clean, and the hay and grain brokers were charging outrageous
prices. Calis gave permission, but instructed Erik
to make sure a full guard company surrounded the
animals at all times.
Another week went by.

Almost a month after arriving, Erik was walking back
from having checked the horses, a three-times-daily
ritual now, to hear a series of loud trumpet Calis from the
heart of the camp. The weather was hot, the hottest part
of the summer, he had been told by one of the clansmen,
and soon summer would be waning. It felt odd to lose a
winter, to leave in fall and return to spring. Erik was sure
Nakor could explain this backwards season to him, but he
wasn't sure he was up for hearing the little man's
explanation.
Trumpets continued, insistent, and Erik started to
hurry to see what the matter was. As he neared his own
tent area, Foster came running toward him and shouted,
'Get those horses down here! That's a call to quarter!
We're being put on notice a fight's going to break out,'

I

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN  38I

Erik dashed back up the hill and down into the next
small valley, and waved his hand as he shouted to the
men standing guard. 'Bring as many as you can lead!' He
hurried past to the most distant picket line, and managed
to lead four horses away. Others came hurrying past, and

before he had reached the main camp, every horse was
being led after him.
The men broke camp faster than Erik had ever seen.
Calis gave orders for a defensive perimeter to be established,
and a company began digging a breastwork.
Archers scanned the hill below for signs of anyone heading
their way.
Despite the sound to quarter, no sounds of battle
erupted from below. Instead, a strange buzzing sound
carried up the hill, and it took Erik a long minute to
realize he was listening to men's voices. Arguments and
curses carried up the hillside, and the sound carried a
frantic quality, but there were still no sounds of fighting.
At last Calis said, 'Bobby, take some men down there
and find out what's going on.'
De Loungville said, 'Biggo, von Darkmoor, Jadow, and
Jerome, with me.'
Roo laughed. 'He's got the four biggest men in the
company to hide behind.'
De Loungville turned in a single motion, looked at
Roo, and said, 'And you, my little man.' With evil delight
in his eyes, he grinned as he said, 'You can stand on my
shield side. if trouble erupts, I'm going to pick you up and
throw you at the first man heading my way I'
Roo rolled his eyes heavenward and fell in beside Erik.
hat will teach me to keep my mouth shut.'
Erik said, 'I doubt it.'
They made their way down into the camp below on
foot, trying not to call attention to themselves as they
approached another campsite. Men were arguing with
one another as they came within earshot.

382        RAYMOND E. FEIST

'I don't care, it's an insult. I say let's ride south and take
whatever the Priest-King offers.'
Another voice said, 'You want to fight your way out, so
you can turn around and fight again?'
Erik tried to make sense of the remarks, but de
Loungville said, 'Follow me.'
He made his way through several such camps, more
than one marked by a busy attempt to get ready to ride.
One man said, 'If you break to the east, up this river, then
cut through the hills to the south, you will probably get
free.'
The man next to him answered, 'What? You're an
oracle now?'
De Loungville led them to the area surrounding the
brokers' tent, where he found a knot of terrified brokers
standing outside their own tent. He pushed past and
entered.
A low wooden desk was used by the brokers, and
behind it sat a large man in fine armor, well cared for
but obviously used often. His feet rested on the polished
wood, mud scattering all over the documents still
upon them. He looked little different from the other
soldiers in camp except that he was older, perhaps
older than Praji and Vaja, the oldest men in Calis's
company. But rather than of age, his aura was that of a
man of profound experience. He calmly looked at de
Loungville and his companions as they entered, and
nodded to another soldier who stood behind him. Both
wore an emerald green armband on their left arm, but
otherwise they wore no distinctive markings or uniform.

De Loungville stopped and said, 'Well then, what fool
blows a call to quarters?'
'I have no idea,' said the old soldier. 'I certainly didn't
want to cause this much commotion.'
'Are you the Emerald Queen's agent?'

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 383

The man said, 'I am General Gapi. I'm no one's
-agent." I'm here to inform you of your choices.'
Erik sensed something in this man he had seen in a few
others - the Prince of Krondor, Duke James, and Calis
upon occasion. It was a sureness of command, an
expectation that orders would be followed without
debate, and Erik decided that this man's title was no
mercenary vanity. This man commanded an army.
De Loungville put his hands on his hips and said, 'Oh,
and what choices are those?'

'You can serve the Emerald Queen or you can die.'
With a slight gesture of his head, de Loungville instructed
the men around him to spread out. Erik stepped
to his right, until he stood opposite the single soldier in,
the tent behind Gapi. De Loungville said, 'Usually I get
paid to fight. But your tone makes me think I might be
willing to forgo payment this one time.'
Gapi sighed. 'Break the peace of the camp at risk,
Captain.'
'I'm no Captain,' said de Loungville. 'I am a sergeant.
My Captain sent me down to see what the fuss was.'
'The fuss, as you call it,' answered Gapi, 'is the consternation
of men too stupid to realize they have no
choice. So you don't hear a garbled version of what was
said here an hour ago, I'll repeat this so you can tell your
Captain.
'All companies of mercenaries mustering in this valley
must swear fealty to the Emerald Queen. We begin our
campaign downriver against Lanada in a month's time.
'If you attempt to leave to take service with Our Lady's
enemies, you will be hunted down and killed.'
'And who's doing this hunting and killing?' asked de
Loungville.
With an easy smile, Gapi said, 'The thirty thousand
soldiers who are now surrounding this pleasant little
valley.'

384

RAYMOND E. FEIST

De Loungville turned and glanced outside the tent. He
searched the ridges above the valley and saw movement,
a glint of light upon metal or a flicker of shadow, but
enough to tell him that a sizable force was ringing the
valley. Letting out an exasperated sound, he said, 'We
wondered what was taking you so long to reach here. We
didn't think you'd be coming in force.'
'Carry word to your Captain. You have no choice.'
Looking at the General, de Loungville seemed about to
say something. Then he just nodded and motioned for
the others to follow him.
They were silent until they were away from the main
camp, when Erik said, 'You look bothered, Sergeant. I
thought the purpose was to join this army.'
'I don't like it when the other side changes the rules,'
said de Loungville. 'Around here you pay a man to fight.
I think we may be getting sucked deeper into the sand
than we thought.
'Besides,' he added, 'when I'm going to get buggered, I
like to be asked nicely first. It annoys me when I'm not.'

SEVENTEEN

Discovery

Roo pointed.
In the distance, fire marked a skirmish. True to his
word, General Gapi attacked any band seeking to leave
to the south. A few captains were stiff-backed enough to
try to smash their way through the encircling army, and
they were met with the full weight of those soldiers
already in better positions and dug in.
The valley might have made a pleasant enough place
for the rendezvous, but as a place from which to launch
an attack it had little to recommend it. Since it was
narrow and steep to the north and south, the only possible
means of escape was through the eastern end, the
way Vaja and his companions had come, which he reported
as being treacherous hills with unforgiving trails
for those taking a wrong turn. Still, some smaller bands
attempted to leave this way.
Others moved out as did Calis's Crimson Eagles,
either to serve and take whatever recompense might be
forthcoming through looting or other rewards, or to
steal away at some future opportunity. Everywhere Erik
looked he saw unhappy men. De Loungville wasn't the
only one feeling buggered without leave.

Those who obeyed General Gapi's orders mustered in
columns at the lowest end of the river, just before it
joined with the larger Yedra. A bridge, long burned
out in some forgotten war, marked the place, and a
series of ferries had been established to provide transport
from north to south on the east side of the Vedra

386

RAYMOND E. FEIST

or from east to west below the nameless tributary.
Calis's company was among the last to reach the
ferry, having quartered higher up in the valley than
most, and as a result they were afforded a longer opportunity
to sit and watch than those who came
before. Men, and a few women, from every corner
of Novindus were moving across the river, crossing
to join those, like Calis's, already on the south
bank.
A man wearing a green armband rode up and said,
'What company?'
De Loungville pointed at Calis, who sat next to him
on the left, and said, 'Calis's Crimson Eagles, from the
City of the Serpent River.'
The man frowned, looking at Calis. 'From the siege
at Hamsa?'
Calis nodded.
The,man grinned and there was nothing friendly in
the expression. 'I almost had you, you slippery bastard.
But you went east to the Jeshandi, and by the time my
company doubled back, you were into the steppes.' He
looked hard at Calis. 'Had I known you were of the
long-lived I would have headed east straight away. A
lot of your kind with the Jeshandi.'
He took out a parchment and a charcoal stick, made
some marks, and said, 'But Our Lady accepts all who
come to her, so we're on the same side now.' He
waved toward the south. 'Make your way downriver
about a mile. Find the Master of the Camp there and
report in. In a few days you'll get orders. Until then
the rules of the camp are simple: any fighting, and
you're killed. We're all brothers now, under the banner
of the Emerald Queen, so any man who starts trouble
goes to the stake. I don't recommend it; I've seen some
men twitch for an hour or longer.'
He didn't ask if the order was understood, simply

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN  387

putting heels to his horse and riding off toward the next
company.
'That was simple,' said Praji, who sat on Calis's left.
Calis said, 'Let's find this Master of the Camp and
report in. We might as well get situated as quickly as
possible.' He nodded at Praji and Vaja, who peeled off
from the company without comment.
'What's that?' asked Erik quietly.

Foster, who was riding next to Erik, said, 'Keep your
mouth shut.'
But Nakor laughed. 'With all the confusion, it's easy
to get separated from one's own company. It may take
Praji and Vaja days to find out where we're camped.
They'll have lots of time to hear many things.'
Calis shook his head and looked over his shoulder, as
if warning the Isalani to keep this to himself, but the
little man giggled in delight at the notion. He said, 'I
think I'll get lost for a while, too.' He tossed his reins to
Luls, saying, 'I do better on foot,' and slid off his horse.
Before Calis could object, he was scampering down to
where a huge company of horsemen was disembarking
from barges while another large company rode in from
the west. Within minutes the two companies were
locked in milling confusion and Nakor had vanished
into the press, ducking between horsemen who shouted
curses as their horses shied at Nakor's sudden movements.

Calis said, 'He's done this before.'
Foster looked after Nakor with black murder in his
eyes, but Calis and de Loungville only shook their
heads.

They found the Master of the Camp hours later. A
narrow face with dark, darting eyes regarded them as
Calis reported in. He made a mark on a document, then
waved toward the riverbank. 'Find a spot between here

I

388

and two miles downriver. There are other companies
scattered along both sides of the road. Find a campsite
between the river and the road. There should he a company 
calling itself Gegari's Command, just to the north
of you. Across the road will be a company under a captain
named Dalbrine. If you move south of that position,
you will be assumed to be deserting and you will be
hunted down. Those not killed will be brought back for
public execution. And do not try to cross the river.' He
made a vague motion across the river, where in the
distance they could see a company of horse riding along
at an easy lope.
Something bothered Erik, and then he realized that
the riders and horses were far too large for the distance
and the speed they were moving. He blinked as he tried
to make sense of the image, then he realized what he
was seeing. 'Lizard men!' he said aloud without thinking.

The Master of the Camp said, 'Our Lady's allies are
called the Saaur. Do not call them "lizards" or 'snakes,lest
you incur her wrath.' He motioned for Calis to lead
his company away as another company approached
from behind.
Squinting against the afternoon sun, Erik tried to
make sense of the distant riders.
'Those horses must be twenty hands,' said Sho
Pi.
'Closer to twenty-two or -four,' said Erik. 'They're
bigger than draft animals, but they move like cavalry
mounts.' As the riders moved away, he admired the
fluid motion of the horses. The Saaur rode with an easy
rocking seat, though their bodies looked oddly
top-heavy, as their armor was cut in an almost triangular
configuration due to flaring shoulder guards and a
cinched waist. 'I'd like to get a closer look at one of
those horses,' said Erik.

RAYMOND E. FEIST

,I

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 389

'No you wouldn't,' snapped de Loungville. I At least,
not one with a rider on his back.'

Erik shook his head in wonder as the riders were lost

in the distant afternoon haze.

They located the campsite, and Calis made a guarded
introduction to his neighboring captains. It was clear
that no one was feeling talkative, as none of the companies
knew if those next to them were actively supporting
the cause of the Emerald Queen or were those
coerced into serving.
Erik was no military expert, but he got the feeling
that in this strange country, with its custom of hiring
men to fight as opposed to supporting standing armies,
having men without loyalty under arms was not a very
smart thing to do. Still, no general uprising seemed to be
taking place, so Erik assumed those in command of this
host knew something he didn't, and left it at that.
Calis ordered the men to bed down without erecting
tents. There was no order given to dig a perimeter
defense or erect a breastwork. It was clear without being
said that he wanted the men to be up off the ground
and on horseback in the shortest possible time if the
need arose.
After the second day, the surrounding camps became
small communities, to be visited if the men weren't on
duty. Bartering, gambling, swapping stories, or just
alleviating the boredom of a camp between battles, the
men wandered as far as they could without causing
trouble. The level of trust was rising, albeit slowly, as
those forced to serve grew more accepting of fate. They
might resent having no choice as to who their new
master was, but for most captains, one side was as good
as the other, and booty was booty.
Some companies had an open attitude, welcoming a
new face who might bring some news, gold to gamble,

I I

I

390

RAYMOND E. FEIST

or just a break from the routine. But others were still
wary, and twice Roo and Erik had been told to keep
moving when they approached one of those camps.
The second night, Foster walked through the camp,

stopping at every group of men to speak with them. He
came upon Erik, Roo, Sho Pi, and Luis, who were sitting
around a fire, watching as Biggo and Natombi took their
turn cooking for the squad. 'Here,' he said, motioning
for the men to stand.
When they did, he opened a purse and counted out
two golden coins and five silver for each man. In a low
voice he said, 'Mercenaries get paid, and if you can't
buy something from a vendor or whore now and again,
you'll get people asking questions about us. And the
first man who gets drunk and says the wrong thing into
the wrong ear, I'll personally have his liver on a stick!'
Erik hefted the coins, feeling them cold in his hand.
He hadn't held coins since leaving Darkmoor, he realized
, and it made him feel good to be able to buy
something. He put them into a pouch sewn into a seam
in his tunic, where they would be safe.
Whores appeared later that night, plying their trade.
Without tents, there was little privacy, but that seemed

to bother few of the men. Many simply pulled the
woman of their choice under a blanket and ignored
whoever might be sitting a few feet away.
A pair of them came by where Erik and Roo sat, and
one said, 'Looking for some company, boys?'
Roo grinned and suddenly Erik found himself flushing
with embarrassment. The last time whores had visited
their camp, at the other site up on the tributary of the
Vedra, he had been looking after the horses and they
had moved on by the time he returned. He was certain
he was the only man in camp who had never lain with

a woman. Erik thought, I might never get the chance again.
He looked at his friend, whose smile spread ear to ear,

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 39I.

then found himself grinning back. 'Why not?' he asked.
One of the women said, 'We get paid first?'
oo laughed. 'And pigs fly.' He waved at the camp.
'We're not going anywhere, but we can't say the same
for you, now, can we?'
The whore who had spoken gave him a sour look, but
she nodded. 'You're not as young as you look, I wager.'
Roo stood up. 'I'm older than I've ever been before in
my life.'
The whore looked confused by the statement, but
followed Roo as he motioned for her to follow.
Erik stood, finding himself alone with the other
woman. She could have been young, but it was difficult
to tell. A hard expression and the dim campfire light
made it impossible to tell if she was closer to fifteen
years or forty. Some grey in her dark hair convinced
him she was older than he, but he didn't know if that
made him feel more comfortable or less.
'Here?' she asked.
'What?'
'Do you want to do it here, or somewhere else?'
Suddenly feeling profoundly embarrassed, Erik said,
'Let's go down by the river.'
He stuck out his hand awkwardly and she took it, her
grip firm and her hand dry. He suddenly felt regret for
the gesture, as his palm was damp and his grip uncertain.

She laughed softly and he said, 'What?'
'First time, is it?'
He said, 'Why              of course not, it's just   been a
long time, with travel and. . .'
'Of course,' she said. Erik couldn't tell if there was
warmth in her amusement or contempt. He led her
down to the bank of the river, and nearly stepped on a
couple who were in a frantic embrace. He moved to
where it was relatively dark, and stood there uncertain.
The woman quickly was out of her clothing, and Erik                         
felt his own body respond to the sight of her. Her body                      
was nothing extraordinary, a little plump around the                         
hips and thighs, and her breasts sagged, but he suddenly                         
thought of what he was about to do and he couldn't get                           
out of his clothing fast enough. He had his tunic off and
was working on his boots when she said, 'You're a big                        
lad, aren't you?'                          
Erik looked down at his own body as if noticing it for
the first time. The passage of time and the rigors of his                        
life since being taken prisoner had hardened him to a                        
fitness beyond what he had known at Ravensburg.                              
Always strong, he had lost a softer outer layer of fat and                   
now his powerful smith's chest and shoulders were                            
rippling muscle, as if he had been carved by a sculptor of                   
the heroic. He said, 'I've always been big for my age.'
He sat and pulled off his boots, and she came over,                         
and took the top of his pants in a firm grip. Her voice                      
was husky as she said, 'Let's see how big.' She pulled off                   
his pants, and looking at his obvious readiness, she                         
laughed and said, 'Big enough!'            
Considering her profession, she was tender. She took                        
her time and didn't laugh at Erik's awkward fumbling.                            
She calmed him when he needed it, and while their                                
coupling was frantic and quick, there was some sense of                      
caring in it. After it was over, she quickly dressed, but                    
stayed a moment after he paid her. 'What's your name?'                       
'Erik,' he said, not sure if he was comfortable telling                     
her.                                       
'You're a wild boy, Erik, in a man's body. The right
of 
woman's going to come to love your touch if you
always remember how strong you are and how tender                                
her flesh is.'                             
Suddenly he felt self-conscious. 'Did I hurt you?'                              
She laughed. 'Not really. You were      enthusiastic.                     
I'll have a bruise or two on my backside from hitting the                    
damn ground so hard at the end there. But nothing like
when those lads who like to slap a whore around get
done with me.'
Pulling on his clothing, Erik said, 'Why do you do it?'
The woman shrugged in the gloom, the gesture
almost lost, as she dressed. 'What else can I do? My man
was a soldier, like you. He died five years ago. I have no
family or rank. I can steal or whore.' She repeated,
without apology or regret, 'What else can I do?'
Before he could say anything more she was gone to
seek another customer. Erik felt both relieved and
empty. There had been something missing in their
coupling, and Erik couldn't tell what it was, but he also
knew he was already anxious to try this wonderful
thing again.

Six days after making camp, Erik saw Praji and Vaja
riding up. Calis motioned for them to come over to
where he sat, a short distance from Erik and his squad,
who had just finished their midday meal. Men nodded
greetings to the two old mercenaries, who walked to
where Calis waited and knelt down next to him.
'What did you discover?' asked Calis.
Praji said, 'Nothing terribly surprising.' With a wave
of his hand to indicate those companies mustered on all
sides, 'We're all boxed in between a range of hills to the
east, the river over there, about twenty, twenty-five
thousand swords to the north of us, and the armies of
Lanada and Maharta mustering about fifty miles south
here.'
'That's the rumor,' said Vaja, keeping his voice low so
only those near Calis's campfire could hear him.
Praj! said, 'This campaign's been going on for a dozen
years, since the fall of Irabek. Sooner or later you'd
think the Raj would figure it out. One by one, the cities

of the river have fallen, each hoping its neighbor to the
north would be the last the Emerald Queen took.'
Calis said, 'What else?'
'We're moving out in a few days, a week at the most,
I think.'
'What did you hear?' asked Calis as Robert de
Loungville and Charlie Foster approached to stand
behind Calis.
Praji said, 'Nothing that said, "We march in three
days.- Just watching and listening.'
Vaja waved to the north. 'They're building a large
bridge across the river where the ferry is. Got at least six
companies of engineers and a couple of hundred slaves
working on it all day and all night.'
'No one from this side can go north without a pass,'
said Praji.
'And no one can leave this area unless they have
signed orders,' added Vaja.
'On the north side of the river,' continued Praji,
'there's where all the old vets are gathered, the ones
who've been at the heart of this campaign from the
start, them and the Saaur lizard men.'
Calis was silent for a moment. 'So we're wall fodder?'
'Looks like,' said Praji.
Erik turned to the other men in his squad and whispered, '
Wall fodder?'
Biggo kept his voice low so the officers wouldn't hear
him when he answered. 'First to march to the wall, old
son. You get 'fed" to the wall, as it were.'
Luis made a motion of drawing a blade across his
own throat. 'First companies to hit the wall lose the
most men,' he added softly.
Calis said, 'We need to be alert. We've got to get closer
to this Emerald Queen and her generals to find out
what we really need to know. If that means we're the
first through the gate or over the wall to prove our
worth, that's what we'll do. once we know what we
d to know, then we'll worry about how we get the
hell out of here.'
Erik lay back on his pallet, arm behind his head. He
watched as clouds scurried by overhead in the late
afternoon breeze. He would have night watch, so he
thought he'd try to get some rest.
But the thought of being the first to attack the wall

of a city, that image returned again and again. He'd
killed four men so far, on three different occasions, but
he'd never been in battle. He worried he would somehow
do something wrong.
He was still contemplating the coming campaign
when Foster came along and kicked his boots, telling
him it was time to get to his post. Erik found himself
surprised that it was now night. He had lost himself in
contemplations of the coming struggle, and the sun had
set without his noticing. He rose and got his sword and
shield and moved down toward the river, to spend the
next few hours watching for trouble.
He thought it ironic that he was on guard in the midst
of an army that would turn on Calis's Crimson Eagles in
an instant if they understood their real. purpose, and
from what he had no idea, as no enemy was closer than
fifty miles. Still, he was told to go stand guard, and that
he did.

Nakor stood at the edge of the crowd, watching the
priest lift up the dead sheep. The Saaur warriors closest
to the fire let out a yell of approval, a deep-throated
hissing, that echoed through the night like a chorus of
enraged dragons. Those humans behind the circle of
lizard men watched in fascination, for these rites were
unknown to any but the Saaur. Many humans made
signs of protection to their own gods and goddesses.
A great celebration was under way and Nakor was
wandering freely through the various companies of
men. He had seen many things and was both gratified
and horrified: gratified that he had uncovered several
key elements of the mystery that would help Calis best
decide what to do next, and horrified because in his
long life he had never met a gathering of evil men so
concentrated in both numbers and malignancy.
The heart of this army was the Saaur, and a large
company of men who called themselves the Chosen
Guard. They wore both the common emerald armband
and green scarves tied around their heads. Their
malignancy was clearly demonstrated by one of their
number who stood a short distance from Nakor, wearing
a neddace of human ears. Rumor in the camp had it
these were the most violent, dangerous, and depraved
men in an army of dark souls. To join their ranks, one
must have endured several campaigns and distinguished
oneself by deeds black and numerous. It was rumored
that the final act of acceptance was ritual cannibalism.
Nakor didn't doubt it. But having visited cannibals in
the Skashakan Islands in prior years, he also knew these
men indulged in practices that would have revolted
most cannibals.
Nakor nodded and grinned at a man covered in
tattoos who held a young boy tightly to him. The boy
had an iron collar around his neck and his eyes had a
drug-induced vacancy in them. The man snarled at
Nakor, who merely grinned even more as he moved
away.
Nakor was trying to move around the largest dump of
celebrators so he could gain a vantage point from which
to see the Emerald Queen's pavilion. Strange energies
floated on the night wind, and old, familiar echoes of
distant magic sounded between the notes of song; and
Nakor was coming to a conclusion about who and what
he would find there.
But he wasn't certain, and without certainty he
couldn't return to find Calis on the other side of the
tributary to tell him what he must do next. The only
thing of which he was certain was the need to return to
Krondor, to warn Nicholas that whatever he had feared
was occurring in this distant land, far worse forces were
being unleashed. Subtle, behind the ancient magic of
the Pantathians, a lingering scent of alien origin hung in
the air.
Glancing skyward, Nakor smelled demon essences in

the clouds, as if ready to fall like rain. He shook his
head. 'I'm getting tired,' he muttered to himself as he
picked his way among giant Saaur warriors.
One of Nakor's better tricks, as he called his abilities,
was the knack of moving in crowds without attracting
undue notice, but it didn't always work, and this
moment was one such time.
A Saaur warrior looked down and snarled, 'Where do
you go, human?' Its voice was deep and its accent
sounded harsh to Nakor.
Nakor regarded the hooded eyes, deep red !rises
surrounded by white. 'I am insignificant, 0 mighty one.
I cannot see. I move to a place from which I may better
observe this wondrous rite.'
Nakor had been curious about the Saaur when he had
first reached the heart of the camp, but now he was
anxious to remove himself from them. They were still a
mystery to him. They bore as much resemblance to the
Pantathians as humans did to elves, which was to say
that superficially they looked very similar, but upon
close examination they were totally unrelated. Nakor
was almost certain they came from another world entirely,
and that they were warm-blooded creatures, like
men, elves, and dwarves, while he knew the Pantathians
were not.
He would have liked to be able to discuss such
theories with an educated Saaur, but all he had encountered
were young male warriors with an attitude toward
humans that could only be called contemptuous. He had
no doubt that should the men in this camp not be servants
of this Emerald Queen, the Saaur would have
been delighted to murder every human in the camp.
They could barely keep their antipathy for humans in
check.
The average Saaur stood between nine and ten feet in
height. The Saaurs were massive in chest and shoulder,
but strangely delicate of neck, and while their legs were
strong enough to control their massive horses, they
didn't seem to be a race of runners or jumpers. On foot,
any good company of humans should prove their
match, thought Nakor.
The lizard man grunted, and Nakor didn't know if
that was approval or not, but he took it as permission to
move on and he did so, judging he would deal with the
consequences of being wrong if he turned out to be.
He was not. The warrior returned his attention to the
welcoming ritual.
The pavilion of the Emerald Queen was raised up on a
giant dais, constructed either of wood or of earth Nakor
couldn't tell which - but six feet higher than the
other tents in this part of the camp. The structure was
surrounded by a host of Saaur, and for the first time
Nakor saw Pantathian priests beyond. Even more, he
saw Pantathian warnors as well. Nakor grinned, for this
was a new thing to his experience, and he always
enjoyed discovering the unfamiliar.
The priest now turned and threw the slaughtered
sheep onto a pyre and then cast scented oils after it. The
smoke that rose was fragrant and thick, dark and coiling.
The priest and the rest of the Saaur watched intently.
Then the priest pointed and spoke in an 'alien
language, but the tone was positive, and Nakor guessed
he was saying the spirits were pleased with the offering
or the portents were good, or some other priestly
mumbo-jumbo.
Nakor squinted as a figure emerged from within the
depths of the pavilion: a man in green armor, followed
by another, who made way for a third, whose green
armor was trimmed in gold. This powerful-looking man
was General Fadawah, First Commander of the host.

Nakor sensed evil hung around the man like smoke
around a fire. For a soldier, he fairly reeked of magic.
Then came a woman with emeralds at her neck and
wrists, dressed in a green gown cut low in front so that
the fall of emeralds at her throat could be better shown.
Upon her raven hair she wore a crown of emeralds.
Nakor muttered, 'That is a lot of emeralds, even for
you.'
The woman moved in a way Nakor found disturbing,
and when she came forward to answer the cheers of her
army, he became deeply troubled. Something was profoundly
wrong!
He studied her and listened as she spoke. 'My faithful!
I who am Your Lady, who am but a vessel for one much
greater, I thank you for your gifts.
'The Sky Horde of the Saaur and the Emerald Queen
promise you victory in this life and immortal reward in
the next. Our spies return to tell us the unbelievers lie
in wait just three days' march to the south. Soon we
shall move to crush them, then fall upon the heathen
cities and reduce them to cinders. Each victory comes
more swiftly than the last, and our numbers grow.'
The woman called the Emerald Queen stepped forward
to the very edge of the dais and looked down on
the faces of those nearest to her, both Saaur and
human. Pointing to one man, she said, 'You shall be my
messenger to the gods this night!'
The man raised his fist in triumph and ran up the first

400        RAYMOND E. FEIST

four steps to the dais. He threw himself across the final
two, so his head was on the floor before his mistress.
She raised her foot and placed it on the man's head for a
moment in ritual, then removed it, turning to move back
into the tent. The man rose with a grin, winked back at
his comrades who cheered him, and followed the Queen
into her pavilion.
'Oh, this is very bad,' whispered Nakor. He glanced
around and saw the celebration was building in intensity.
Soon men would be drunk and fighting, as
much as was allowed, and given the lax discipline Nakor
had seen in this part of the army, he suspected much
brawling and even bloodshed were tolerated.
Now he would have to work his way through a company
of very drunk, drug-crazed killers, and seek a way
across the river to Calis - assuming he could locate
Calis's camp.
Nakor was never one to worry, and this certainly
wasn't a time to begin. Still, he was anxious that he not
delay too long, for now he knew what was behind all
the conflict that had been under way for the last
twelve years, and what was more, he realized he might
be the only man on the world who would fully understand
all the different aspects of what he had just
seen.
Shaking his head in consternation at the complexities
of life, the,little man started negotiating his way back
away from the edge of the Emerald Queen's pavilion.

A courier rode up and asked, 'Are you Captain Calis?'
Calis said, 'I am.'
'Orders. You're to take your company and ford the
river' - he motioned to some place to the north of him,
so Erik, who sat nearby, assumed a ford must be close at
hand - 'and conduct a sweep along the far bank, for ten
miles downstream. Gilani tribesmen were seen by one

I

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 40I

of our scouts. The generals want to keep the opposite
bank free of such pests.'
He turned and rode away as Praji said, 'Pests?' Looking
after the retreating courier, he shook his head in
disbelief. 'Obviously that lad has never encountered any
of the Gilani.'
'Neither have I,' said Calis. 'Who are they?'
Praji spoke while he casually picked up his kit and

made ready to ride out. 'Barbarians.' He paused and
said, 'No, savages, really. Tribespeople. No one knows
who they are or where they come from. They speak a
tongue only a few can master, and they rarely give
anyone from outside a chance to learn it. They're tough,
and they fight like maniacs. They wander the Plain of
Djams or up in the foothills of the Ratn'gary, hunting
the big bison herds or chasing elk and deer.'
Picking up his own bedroll, Vaja said, 'Most of the
trouble folks on this side of the river have with them is
over horses. They're the best damn horse thieves in the
world. A man's rank is earned by how many enemies
he's killed and how many horses he's stolen. They don't
ride them; they eat them. So I heard.'
'Will they give us much trouble?' said Calis.
'Hell, we probably won't even see one,' answered
Praji. He tossed his bedroll to Erik and said, 'Hang on to
that for me for a minute.' He bent to get a bag that
contained the rest of his personal belongings. 'They're
tough little guys, about half again the size of
dwarves,' and with an evil grin he pointed at Roo: 'just
like him I'
The men laughed as Praji reclaimed his bedroll from
Erik and they started moving toward the picket line of
horses. De Loungville and Foster began calling orders to
the company to ride. Praji said, 'They can vanish into
that tall grass across the river like they were spirits. They
live in these low huts they put together out of woven

i

402

RAYMOND E. FEIST

grass, and you can be standing ten feet from one and
never see it. Difficult folks to figure.'
'But they can fight,' said Vaja.
As they started readying their horses, Praji said, 'That,
indeed, they can do. There, Captain, now you know as
much about the Gfiani as just about any man born in
these parts.'
Calis said, 'Well, if they want to avoid trouble, we
should be able to make a swing ten miles to the south
and back before sundown.' As if concerned over something,
he looked back at the main body of the camp,
then said to De Loungville, 'Leave a squad to look after
things.' Lowering his voice, he said, 'And tell them to
keep an eye out for Nakor.'
Foster motioned to another squad that was moving to
saddle their horses and gave them instructions. Erik
glanced back as he lifted his saddle to place it on the
back of his own mount. Where was Nakor? he wondered.


Nakor grunted as he picked up the plank, silently cursing
the fool at the other end who didn't seem to realize
something existed called 'coordinated effort.' The man,
whose name was unknown to Nakor but whom he
thought of as 'that idiot,' insisted on lifting, moving, and
dropping without bothering to mention it to Nakor. As a
result, over the last two days, Nakor had accumulated
an astonishing collection of splinters, scrapes, and
bruises.
Nakor had encountered difficulties returning to Calis's
company. The muster had finally halted with the core
army to the north of this tributary to the river Vedra,
while Calis and other other new mercenary companies
were to the south. Passing across the smaller river was
now accomplished only by riders M ' th official-looking
passes, issued by the generals. Nakor had three such

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN   3

passes in his bag, having stolen them two nights before I
but he didn't want to try to use one until he could, study
it, and there hadn't been any place to study the documents
without attracting attention. Besides the risk of
losing such documents, Nakor had a predisposition not
to call attention to himself unless there was a reason to

do so.
But the generals had ordered a bridge rebuilt across
this tributary and a work gang was diligently doing just
that. Nakor figured he would pose as a worker and
when the bridge reached the opposite shore, he would
simply vanish into the crowd on the other bank.
Unfortunately, the work was going more slowly than
he had hoped, since the labor turned out to be slave
labor and, as such, the workers were in no hurry. Also,
he was now being closely guarded at night. The guards
might not have noticed him when he arrived ~ if
there was an extra slave in a squad, the guard would
merely assume he had miscounted in the morning - but
he would be certain to notice if there was one
less.
Which meant Nakor would have to wait for exactly
the right moment to vanish into the companies of
mercenaries. He knew that once he was free of the
guards watching the work gang he would have no
trouble. staying free,. but he wished to create as ideal a
moment as possible before he attempted it. A manhunt
in the southern camp might prove amusing, but Nakor
knew that he must share what he had learned with
Calis and the others before too long, so that they could
start planning their escape from this army and their
eventual return to Krondor.
'That idiot' dropped his end of the plank before Nakor
could move, and as a result he took more splinters in his
shoulder. He was about to do one of his 'tricks' in retaliation,
a sting to the buttocks that would make the

I

II
404        RAYMOND E. FEIST

I

man think he had sat on a hornet, when a chill passed
over him.
He glanced back and felt his chest tighten, for a
Pantathian priest stood not ten feet away watching the
construction, speaking quietly to a human officer. Nakor
set down his end of the plank and hurried back for
another, keeping his eyes down. Nakor had encountered
the Pantathians and their handiwork before, while
traveling with the man who was now Prince of
Krondor, but he had never seen a living Pantathian that
close. As he passed the creature he noticed a faint odor,
and remembered having heard of this smell before: very
reptilian, yet alien.
Nakor bent to pick up another plank and saw 'that
idiot' stumble over a rock. He lost his balance and took a
half-step toward the Pantathian. The creature reacted,
turning with a clawed hand sweeping out. The talons
struck across the idiot's chest, ripping his tunic as if
they were knives. Deep cuts of crimson appeared as the
man cried out. Then he went weak in the knees and
collapsed, to lie twitching on the ground.
The human officer said to Nakor, 'Get him out of
here,' and Nakor and another slave grabbed the fallen
man. By the time they had moved him back to the
slaves' compound, the man was dead. Nakor studied the
face, frozen in death with eyes open, and watched
closely. After a few minutes, he was certain he knew
exactly what poison the Pantathian had on his claws. It
was no natural venom, but something created by
mixing several deadly plant toxins together, and Nakor
found this revelation fascinating.
He was also fascinated by the Pantathian's need to
demonstrate before the human officer his deadly ability
to kill with a touch. There were politics here in the
camp of the Emerald Queen that were not obvious to
those far from the heart of power, and Nakor wished he

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 405

had the time to try to uncover more about them. Any
struggle in the enemy camp was good to know about, but
unfortunately, he couldn't afford to spend the time insinuating
himself where he could observe the byplays of
power.

A guard said, 'Drop him there,' pointing to a garbage
heap that would be hauled away by wagon at sundown
and dumped at a fill a mile or so away from the river.
Nakor did as he was bid, and the guard ordered the two
slaves to return to work.
Nakor hurried down to the building site, but the
Pantathian and the human officer were now gone. He
felt a brief regret that he couldn't study the Serpent priest
any longer, and even more regret that 'that idiot' had
been killed. The man had deserved to have his backside
stung' but he hadn't deserved to die painfully as a poison
shut down his lungs and heart.
Nakor worked until the noon meal. He sat on the
bridge, now only a few yards from the other bank, dangling
his feet above the water as he ate the tasteless gruel
and hard bread to keep his strength up. All the while he
ate, he wondered what Calis and the others were doing.

Calis motioned for the outriders on the right flank to
keep an even line of sight, one man to the next, for a half
mile. Signals from the closest man indicated the order
was understood.
They had been riding since noon and still had no sign
of anyone near the bank. Either the report of those
tribesmen being nearby was in error, or they had left the
area, or they were, as Praji had said, able to keep themselves
from being seen.
Erik watched for any unexpected movement in the
grass, but it was a breezy afternoon, and the tall grass
moved like water. It would take eyes far better than his to
see someone moving through this sheltering plain.

l~

406        RAYMOND E. FEIST                      SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN    407

A short time later, Calis said, 'If we don't find something
within the next half hour, we should return. We'll
be getting back to the ford in the dark as it is now.'
A shout from an outrider, and everyone looked to the
west. Erik used his hand to shade his eyes against the
afternoon sunlight, and saw a rider frantically signaling
from the base of a large mound. Calis motioned and the
column turned toward the rider.
When they reached the base of the hillock, Erik could
see it was covered in the same grass as the plains,
making it look like nothing so much as an inverted
shaggy bowl. Almost completely round, it was some distance
from the next rise, the beginning of a series of
hills leading toward the distant mountains.
'What is it?' asked Calis.
'Tracks and a cave, Captain,' answered the outrider.
Praji and Vaja exchanged questioning looks, and dismounted.
They led their horses close to the cave and
inspected it. A short entrance, one a man could enter
stooped over, led back into the gloom.
Calis glanced down. 'Old tracks.' Then he moved to
the entrance and ran his hand over the stone edge of
the cave. 'This isn't natural,' said Calis.
'Or if it is,' said Praji, also running his hand along the
wall, 'someone's done some work on it to make it more
sturdy. There's stonework under this dirt.' He brushed
away the dirt and revealed some fitted stones underneath.
'
Sarakan,' said Vaia.
'Maybe,' conceded Praji.
'Sarakan?' asked Calis.
Praji remounted his horse and said, 'It's an abandoned
dwarven city in the Ratn'gary Mountains. All of it underground.
Some humans moved in a few centuries back,
some cult of lunatics, and they've died out. Now it just
sits empty.'

'People are always stumbling across entrances down
near the Gulf,' said Vaja, 'and in the foothills near the
Great South Forest.'
Calis said, 'Correct me if I'm wrong, but that's
hundreds of miles from here.'
'True,' said Praji. 'But the damn tunnels run everywhere.'
He pointed to the hillock. 'That one could be
connected somewhere over there' - he pointed at the
distant mountains - 'or it could simply go back a few
hundred feet and stop. Depends on who built it, but it

looks like one of the entrances to Sarakan.'
Roo ventured, 'Maybe it's built by the same dwarves,
but it's a different city?'
'Maybe,' said Praji. 'It's been a long time since any
dwarves lived anywhere but the mountains, and city
folk don't linger on the Plain of Djams.'
Calis said, 'Could we use this as a depot? Leave some
weapons and supplies here if we need to come down
this side of the river?'
Praji said. 'I wouldn't, Captain. if the Gilani are
around here. they may be using this as a base.'
Calis was silent for a moment; then he spoke loudly
enough for the entire troop, except for the other outriders.
to hear. 'Mark this location in your minds. Check
the distant landscapes. We may be very needful of
finding this exact spot, soon. If we need to break from
the camp, for any reason, or fight our way out, if you
can't make straight for the city of Lanada, make for this
mound. Those who do meet here, make your way to the
south the best you can. The City of the Serpent River is
your final goal, for one of our ships should be waiting
there.'
Erik looked around and then looked down at his
mount. If he put her nose in line with two peaks in the
distant mountains, the one that looked like a broken
fang, and the other that looked like a dump of grapes,

408

RAYMOND E. FEIST

to his imagination, and kept the river at his back while
keeping another distant peak off his left side, he thought
he should be able to find his way back here.
After the men had taken their bearings, Calis turned
to an outrider up on a distant hill who was watching.
Calis made the arm signals to indicate they were turning
back.
The man acknowledged the order, then turned and
signaled an even more distant rider, while Calis gave the
order to return to the host of the Emerald Queen.

EIGHTEEN

Escape

Nakor waved.
He had learned years ago that if you didn't want to be
accosted by minor officials, look as if you know exactly
what you're doing. The officer standing on the far end of
the dock didn't recognize Nakor, as the Isalani knew he
wouldn't. Slaves weren't people. One didn't take note of
them.
And now he didn't look like a slave. He had ducked out
of the slave pen the night before so that the morning and
night head count would match. He had wandered
around the camp, smiling and chatting, until he had
reached the place where he had secreted his belongings
when he had run off to play construction worker.
Then at dawn he had wandered back to the slave pens
and fallen in a few yards behind the work gang. He had
moved along the newly constructed bridge, past a guard
who started to ask him something when Nakor patted
him on the shoulder in a friendly fashion and said, 'Good
morning,' leaving the guard scratching his chin.
Now he called to the officer, 'Here, catch!' and threw
him his bundle of bedroll and shoulder sack. The officer
reacted without thought and caught the bundle, then set
it down as if it were covered in bugs.
By then Nakor had jumped the five feet separating the
end of the bridge and the south-shore foundation of
rocks. He landed and stood up, saying, 'I didn't want to
take the chance of dropping the bundle in the water.
There are important documents in it.'

l~

4I0        RAYMOND E. FEIST

'Important ... ?' asked the officer as Nakor picked up
his bundle.
'Thank you. I must be getting those orders to the
Captain.'
The officer hesitated, which was his undoing, for in
that moment, while he tried to frame his next question,
Nakor slipped behind a party of horsemen riding past,
and when they had moved on, the little man was no

i

where in sight.
The officer stood peering this way and that, and failed
to notice that a few feet away there were now seven
sleeping mercenaries around a cold campfire where moments
before there had been only six. Nakor lay motionless,
listening for any sign of alarm.
He grinned as he lay there, his usual reaction to pulling
off a good vanishing act. He found it amazing that most
people never noticed what was going on right before
their noses. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and
started to doze.
Less than an hour later, he heard a voice and opened
his eyes. One of the soldiers next to him was sitting up
and yawning. Nakor turned over and saw that the officer
he had flummoxed was standing with his back toward
the camp.
Nakor rolled to his feet, said, 'Good morning,' to the
still-half-asleep mercenary, and moved off down the trail
toward where he hoped Calis was camped.

Erik looked up from where he sat, a few feet away from
Calis, de Loungville, and Foster, polishing his sword.
They had returned to camp after nightfall, and Calis had
gone to report to the officers' tent near the bridge while
Erik and the others tended the horses. When he returned
he showed no sign of how the meeting went, but Calis
rarely showed anything that Erik could read as pleasure
or irritation.

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 4II

But now Erik saw a small betrayal of emotion as Calis
rose with an expectant expression: Nakor was making his
way across the narrow trail that had been worn by
hooves and feet between the Eagles' camp and the one to
the.east.

The little man came trudging into view, with his seemingly
ever-present grin in place. 'Woof,' he said, sitting
down heavily on the ground next to Foster. 'That was
some doing, finding you. Lots of bird banners, and lots of
red things, and most of these men' - he pointed in
general at most of the other companies nearby - 'don't
care who's next to them. This is one very ignorant
bunch.'
Praji, who was lying back picking his teeth with a long
sliver of wood, said, -they're not being paid to think.'
'True.'
'What did you discover?' asked Calis.
Nakor leaned forward and lowered his voice, so that
Erik had to strain to overhear, though he and the others
in his squad were trying hard to look as if they weren't. 'I
don't think it's such a good idea to talk about this here,
but let's say that when I can tell you, you don't want to
know what I saw.'
'Yes I do,' said Calis.
Nakor nodded. 'I understand, but you'll understand
what I mean when I tell you. Just let me say that if you
have a plan for us to get out of here, tonight would be a
very good time to do it. We don't need to stay any
longer.'
Calis said, 'Well, now that we know where the ford is,
we could try to slip across, or bluff our way and tell the
patrol at the bank that we're going out on another sweep
to the south.'
Nakor opened his ever-present bag, slung over his
shoulder, and said, 'Maybe one of these passes would
fool them.'

RAYMOND E. FEIST

Erik tried hard not to laugh at the expression on
Foster's and de Loungville's faces. They looked at the
documents, and de Loungville said, 'I'm not an expert in
reading this gibberish, but these look authentic.'
'Oh, they are,' said Nakor. 'I stole them from Lord
Fadawah's tent.'
De Loungville said, 'The Queen's Lord High General?'
'That's the man. He was busy and no one noticed, as I
was playing the part of a slave. I thought one of these
might do us some good. I wanted to poke around. There's
something very funny about that general. He's not what
he seems to be, and if I hadn't been in such a hurry to get
my news to you, I would have stayed around to see just
what this general really is.'
Calis looked through the four documents. 'This might
do it. It's a vaguely worded order commanding all units
to let the bearer pass. It doesn't say if the bearer will have
a full company of more than a hundred men with him,
but I think if we can keep our wits about us, it might
work.'
Praji stood. 'Well, the day's half done, and if we're
going to be convincing about a local patrol, we'd better be
on our way now. Or did you want to wait until tomorrow
morning?'
Calis glanced at Nakor, who shook his head slightly in
the negative. 'We leave now,' said Calis.
Order was passed from man to man to act as if there
was little urgency, but to get ready quickly to ride. If
anyone in the other campsites took notice, Erik couldn't
see. The surrounding companies seemed intent upon
their own business. The coming and going of another
troop of men seemed of little interest.
in less than an hour, Foster had the men in file, and
Calis motioned for Erik's squad, the first in line, to fall in
behind his own vanguard, Nakor, Praji, Vaja, Hatonis,
and de Loungville. Foster would fall back and take

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 4I3

command of the rear guard, the most experienced squad
in the company. As Jadow Shati and Jerome Handy
moved out of line, back to where Foster waited, Erik
made a good-luck sign which Jadow returned, along with
his broadest grin.
They rode northward, along the path to the road,
where they paralleled the river until they came in sight of
the bridge. 'That's finishing up quickly,' observed Praji.
'They have many men working on it,' said Nakor. 'I
worked on it for a couple of days so I could get across.'

Vaja said, 'There're are ample fords nearby. Why all
the bother?'
Nakor said, 'The Queen doesn't want to get her feet
wet.'
Calis glanced at the little man, as did Erik. Nakor
wasn't smiling.
They reached the guardpost and a stout sergeant came
forward. 'What's all this, then?'
Calis said, 'Hello again, Sergeant.'
Recognizing Calis from the night before, the sergeant
said, 'Going out again?'
'The generals weren't happy with my report. They
think I didn't head far enough south. I'm going out until
noon tomorrow, then I'll be back by morning the day
after.'
'No one said anything to me about your company
crossing the river, Captain,' said the sergeant, looking
suspicious, 'or anyone being out for more than a day.'
Calis calmly held out the pass. 'The General made up
his mind just a short time ago. He gave me this rather
than relying on a messenger getting to you before we
were ready to leave.'
The sergeant said, 'Damn officers, We've got our
orders, and then some captain of some company thinks
he can get his drinking buddy to change the way we do
things. Which of those strutting peacocks thinks he can

I

4I4

RAYMOND E. FEIST

just sign his name. . .' His voice trailed off and his eyes
widened as he saw the name and seal at the bottom of the

pass.
'If you want to send a messenger to General Fadawah to
tell him that he's not observing procedures, and you want
confirmation, we'll wait,' said de Loungville. 'I'd just as
soon not have to go looking for the Gilani. Hell, I don't
think the general will mind, Sergeant.'
The sergeant quickly rolled up the pass and handed it
back to Calis. 'You may cross,' he said, waving them past.
He turned to the soldiers at the bank and shouted, 'They're
crossing to the other side!'
They waved back and resumed their bored poses while
Calis walked his horse down to where they stood and into
the water, taking it slowly and carefully.
Erik felt the back of his neck itch, as if someone behind
would start shouting they were trying to escape, or someone
else would be warning the sergeant that a pass had
been stolen from the General's tent.
But they moved across the shallow ford in the river until
the last company, with Corporal Foster the last man, had
safely crossed. Then Calis motioned for them to pick up
speed, and they all started moving south at a trot. Erik
found himself fighting an unusually strong urge to dig his
heels in and get his horse galloping. He wondered how
many of the others felt the same way.
When they had moved some distance downriver, Calis
ordered them to a canter and they rode at a good rate for
another mile before he signaled for them to return to a
trot. Nakor shouted, 'You want me to tell you now?'
Calis said, 'Yes, before you fall off and break your neck.'
Nakor grinned. 'It's bad. You remember our old friend
the Lady Clovis?'
Calis nodded. Erik had no idea who she might be, but
the darkening expression on Calis's face said he knew her.
What surprised him was that de Loungville registered no

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 4I5

recognition. But Praji said, 'That bitch who was using
Dahakon and the Overlord Valgash down at the City of
the Serpent River way back when we first met?'
'That's her,' said Nakor.
'She's the Emerald Queen?' asked Calis.
Nakor shook his head. 'I wish it were so. Joma, that's
her real name, at least back when we were married ~'

'What?'gaped Calis, and for the first time Erik saw him
totally lose his composure.
'It's a long story. I'll tell you some other time. But
when she was a girl she was vain, and when we were
together she was always seeking ways to stay young
forever.'
'I think if we get out of this you're going to tell me
every detail,' said de Loungville, obviously as astonished
as Calis.
'Anyway,' said Nakor, motioning for him not to interrupt, '
the girl had talent for tricks, what you call magic,
and she left me when I wouldn't tell her secrets I didn't
have, about staying young forever. She was using a different
body when she was the Lady Clovis.'
'A different body?' said Praji, now obviously confused.
'How did you recognize her?'
'When you know someone well, bodies don't matter,'
said Nakor.
'I guess,' said Vaia, obviously amused by the entire
conversation.
'Shut up,' said Nakor. 'This is serious. This woman
made a bargain with the Pantathians to keep her young
forever while she helped them. What she didn't know
was they were using her. I warned her. I told her, 'They
want more than you can ever give them," and I was
right. They've taken her.'
'What do you mean?' asked Calis.
Nakor's expression turned grim. 'What happened to
your father, with the Armor of White and Gold.'
'Yes?' said Calis, color draining from his face.                                
'It's happening again. Joma, or Clovis, is wearing an 
emerald crown and it's changing her. She is becoming                             
like your father.'                         
Calis looked shaken and said nothing for a moment;                   
then he turned to de Loungville. 'Tell Foster I want a rear                      
guard to follow by fifteen minutes. I want to know if 
anyone tries to overtake us. if they encounter anyone,                           
their fastest rider is to come find us, while the-others are 
to lead whoever's coming away. We'll wait for a short                            
time at the cave we found two days ago, then we'll strike 
straight for Lanada.'                     
De Loungville said, 'And if those who come after don't 
take the bait?'                           
'Make them take the bait,' said Calis.    
De Loungville nodded once, turned his horse, and                                
rode to the end of the column. Erik looked back and 
saw Foster and six other men slow and then stop after . 
de Loungville gave the order. They would wait a quarter 
hour, then start riding after Calis's company, hoping 
they would get the chance to catch up in a day or 
two.                                      

It was midmorning the next day when someone at the 
rear of the column shouted, 'Rider!'  
Erik looked over his shoulder and saw Jadow Sha ti,
riding the life out of his horse. The animal was completely 
lathered, and from the huge extension of her                             
nostrils, Erik could tell she couldn't catch her breath. She 
was blown out and ruined, he was certain. Jadow was                              
familiar enough with horses to realize he was killing the 
mare, so Erik knew it could only mean trouble. He untied 
the cord that held his sword in its scabbard, as he did not-
need to be told that they were about to fight.                                        
For in the distance, less than a mile behind Jadow,
came a dust cloud. Erik saw the figures on the horizon,
and before Jadow could get close enough to speak, Erik
shouted, 'It's the Saaur,'
De Loungville asked, 'How can you tell?'
'The horses look too big for the distance behind
Jadow.'
Just then Jadow came within shouting range and cried
out, 'Captain! It's the lizard men, They are following.'
Calis turned to de Loungville and said, 'We stay in the
saddle. Skirmish in two lines!'
De Loungville shouted, 'You heard the Captain, I
want the first fifty men dressed left on me,' That meant
that the first fifty men in the column would line up on de
Loungville's left arm, in a straight line. Erik was the man
closest to de Loungville when he moved his horse
around.
Jadow came reining in, his mount staggering as he
leaped off. Calis shouted, 'Where's Foster?'
Jadow shook his head. 'They bought none of it. As
soon as I took off, they followed me and ignored the
corporal. The corporal turned around and hit them from
the flank, buying me a head start, Captain, but. . .' He
didn't have to say any more.
Erik thought of the big man, Jerome Handy, who had
become something of a friend after being embarrassed
aboard the ship. He glanced to his right and
saw Sho Pi, and nodded. Sho Pi nodded back, as if he
understood what Erik was thinking.
Luis said, 'Then we bleed lizards,' under his breath, but
loud enough for those near him to hear.
Erik drew his sword and put his reins between his
teeth. He unhmbered his shield and made ready. He'd
control his mount with his legs, but he kept the reins in
his jaws in case he needed to yank them.
The Saaur's animals must be as incredibly strong as
their riders, thought Erik, for if Jadow's mount was
near death, the Saaur's looked merely tired Yet the

green-skinned warriors didn't pause once they saw the
line of soldiers facing them.
'We don't scare them much,' observed Nakor from
behind Erik, who wouldn't take his eyes off the approaching
riders.
Calis said, 'When I give the order, I want bowfire; then
the first rank will charge. The second rank will hold until
I give the order.'
The bowmen, all in the center of the second line, drew
back their weapons, and de Loungville half muttered,
*Wait for it!'
The Saaur bore down relentlessly, and as they approached,
Erik started noticing details. Some wore feathers
on their helms, while others had strange animals and
birds on their shields. The horses were bay and chestnut,
with some that were almost black, but while a few were
near-white, he saw no buckskins or mottled colors. Erik
wondered why he was fascinated by the fact of there
being no pintos or buckskins. He fought down an unexpected
urge to laugh.
. Then Calis shouted, 'Shoot!' and the forty archers in
the second line let loose. The rain of shafts caused a halfdozen
riders to fall, and several of the alien horses
screamed. Then Calis shouted, 'Charge!'
Erik dug his heels into his horse's flanks and with a
shout and a powerful squeeze of his legs told the horse to
gallop. He didn't look to see how the others were doing,
but kept his focus on a Saaur with a metal crest topped
with a horsehair fall atop his helm. The horsehair had
been bleached and dyed a bright crimson, so it was an
easy target for Erik.
Erik sensed more than saw when his own horse
crashed into the larger animal. He was too intent on
avoiding the blow aimed at his neck. The Saaur warrior
used a large single-bladed ax, which meant he could
bludgeon with it on the backswing, but cut only with a
forward blow. Erik almost fell into the gap between the
two animals after his own mount staggered away from the
larger horse. Erik ducked under the looping blow, but
recovered in time to deliver a punishing blow with his
sword to the thigh of the Saaur.
He didn't see if the creature fell from the saddle or rode
past, because he was too busy engaging another warrior
who had just unhorsed one of Hatonis's clansmen. Erik
charged him and got his sword point under the creature's
shield before it could turn and face him, and the Saaur fell
backwards, flipping completely over the rear of his horse.
Erik swore and reined his own horse away as the
riderless alien horse lashed out with a foreleg. "Ware the
mounts,' he cried. 'They're trained to attack, too.'
Erik moved to help Roo, who was attempting to work
in tandem with Luis against one Saaur. He came up
on the lizard man's blind side and delivered a killing
blow to the back of the creature's helm. The Saaur fell
over and the helm fell off, revealing an alien face, green
and scaled, but covered in scarlet blood.
'Well, their blood's not green,'shouted Biggo, riding by.
'They're also dying right enough.'
'So are we,' said Roo, pointing. Biggo and Erik turned to
see that while most of the Saaur had been unhorsed, for
each one killed. one of their own was down as well.
Flushing back his helm, Biggo said, 'We face them three
to one, and still they take us out in equal numbers.'
'Shoot.' cried Calis, and the ten archers who remained
to him started peppering the five remaining Saaur with
arrows.
Jadow said, 'Look!' and pointed into the distance.
'That's why they're so fearless,' shouted de Loungville.
'These are just the trail-breakers!'
Afar, a large column of dust rose into the sky, and even
at this distance the rumble of hooves was thunderous. Erik
didn't wait but set heels to the flanks of his horse and
charged after the remaining Saaur, who were attempting
to keep the humans engaged as long as possible until
their companions could overtake them.
Biggo let out a whoop and charged after him. They
rode full into the same Saaur, striking at him from both
sides. Erik caught him on the sword arm, shattering
bone and cutting deep into flesh, while Biggo hammered
relentlessly at the creature's shield.
Soon it was quiet.
Calis said, 'Ride for the cave! We'll stand there!'
Erik sucked a deep lungful of air and willed his tired
horse to run. There was no choice. The alien horses
were stronger and more powerful and had more endurance.
They couldn't outrun them, it was clear, and at
one to one, they couldn't outfight the Saaur in the
open.
Erik hoped that the cave tunnel did lead somewhere,
as Praji had claimed. For if it was only a cave in a hill, it
would be a lonely place to die.
In ragged order, leaving the remounts to follow or
wander, Calis's Crimson Eagles, exhausted and sore
from the short but furious fight, headed toward the distant
hillock.
Nakor was among the first to reach it, and without
much grace he half jumped, half fell from his horse. He
grabbed a waterskin and a bag of rations, then struck
her on the rump, yelling enough to send her running
away as he ducked into the cave.
As Erik and the others began to dismount, he
shouted, 'There's a door! Come quick!'
'Strike a light!' commanded Calis, and de Loungville
produced a special oil and motioned for someone to give
him a torch. A bundle of them was fetched from the
baggage along with a few other items the men would
carry, but most of the baggage, food, and all the horses
must be sacrificed.

De Loungville sprinkled the oil on a torch, then struck
flint and steel to cause a spark. The oil caught and the
torch was lit, and he ducked inside the cave.
Erik followed after, and had to duck-walk to pass
below the low ceiling. After about ten yards, the ceiling
rose and the corridor broadened, as the passage moved
down into an underground cavern.
Erik looked for the door and discovered it was a huge
round stone. It was nestled in a heavy iron and wooden
frame, rigged so it could be rolled from its position to the

right of the passage to block it. While a few strong men
could use large wooden pegs set in the face to move it
from inside this cave, those following after would have
no handhold on the smooth surface, nor any way to gain
enough leverage to move the massive rock.
When the last man was inside the cave, Erik, Biggo,
and Jadow grabbed the wooden pegs and struggled to
move the rock. others insinuated themselves against the
wall so they could push against the edge once it moved
enough.
Slowly, protestingly, the rock budged and then with a
grinding rumble moved as the sound of horsemen
echoed through the entrance of the cave. Angry shouts in
an alien language echoed down the hall as the grinding
stone moved slowly to block their retreat.
Suddenly Erik felt resistance and knew that the Saaur
on the other side had tried to prevent the closing. 'Push!'
he shouted, and another pair of hands moved below his,
and he looked down to see Roo trying to add his strength
to the task. The little man had slipped below and crawled
on the floor to find a place from which he could help.
Nakor shouted, 'Close your eyes!'
Erik was slow and was temporarily blinded by a,
sudden flash of light as Nakor lit something from de
Loungville's torch and tossed it through the narrow space
between the wall and the slowly moving rock door.
A scream and several shouts of rage answered, but the
pressure on the door was released and it closed suddenly
with a deep and final thud. Erik felt the shock in his
shoulders as it slammed into the opposite wall.
His knees felt suddenly weak and he sat down on the
cold cave floor. He heard Biggo laugh. 'That was closer
than I like.'
Erik found himself laughing, too, and looked over at
Jadow. 'Foster and Jerome?'
Jadow shook his head. 'They all died like men.'
Calis said, 'Bobby, light another torch so we can see
where we're going.'
'Do we have another torch?' asked the sergeant.
A voice in the dark said, 'In the bundle here, Sergeant.'
Calis said, 'Biggo, while we're looking ahead, I want
you and von Darkmoor to do an inventory. We've left
most of what we had outside, but I want to see what we
have here.' He glanced around. 'Though if there's not
another way out, it really doesn't matter, does it?'
Without waiting for an answer, he moved off into the
gloom as de Loungville lit a second torch, handed it to
Luis, and moved after the Captain.
Nakor hurried to grab a few loose rocks and lay them
between the stone and the floor. 'Won't roll back very
well if they do get a grip,' he said with a grin.
Biggo turned and said, 'All right, me darlings. You
heard the Captain. Look around and tell ol' Biggo what
you thieving rascals grabbed when you ran for your
lives,'
Erik chuckled, but knew it was just relief at still being
alive. He didn't know who else had noticed, but when he
ran into the dark he had looked back over his shoulder
and seen at least thirty of the hundred or more men who
had left that morning lying dead on the ground. They had
survived the first encounter of a long and bitter journey
to come, and almost a third of them were already dead.
He put that thought from his mind and began looking
to see what resources they had.

Hours passed, and there were faint sounds from the other
side of the rock door, so they knew the Saaur were
contriving ways to move the boulder and come after

them. At one point Roo wondered aloud what they
would do if some Saaur magician came along and used
magic to open the door, and the anger that greeted the
remark caused the wiry man to fall instantly silent. Erik
couldn't remember a time when Roo had been shut up so
quickly or effectively.
When Calis finally returned, Biggo said, 'We've got
food for four or five days, Captain. A few extra weapons,
but mostly what each of us is carrying. We've got plenty
of gold and gems, 'cause the sergeant there grabbed the
pay sacks, and we've got a fair supply of bandages and
herbs.
'But all our camp gear is gone, and a lot of us are going
to be thirsty if we don't find water quickly.'
Calis said, 'The tunnel seems to head down gradually,
and toward the foothills. I saw signs that someone's used
this route not too long ago, maybe a month, but no more
than that.'
'Tribesmen?' asked Roo.
'Doesn't matter,' said Praji, standing up. 'Unless you're
anxious to face that angry pack of lizards waiting out
there' - he pointed to the door - 'we go that way.' He
pointed into the gloom.
Calis said, 'Everyone ready?'
No one said no, and Calis turned to de Loungville. 'Get
them into some sort of order, and let's start seeing where
this passage leads.'
De Loungville nodded once, then turned and gave the
command. once the men found their way to the positions
they normally took while riding, a sense of the
familiar surrounded Erik, as if following orders made the
closeness of the tunnel and the gloom bearable.
Then Calis gave the word and they moved off into the
darkness.

I I? ~>
survive ~l, o
U ,, I, 0
to come, and aijL.I5>,.

I\

f

NINETEEN

Discovery

A gong sounded.
It echoed off vast ceilings of carved and colored stone,
ringing through the great hall, and the Warden turned.
Miranda saw him regarding her with impassive features.
But he made no threatening gesture as she approached.
She had been flying across the mountains since leaving
the vast city known as the Necropolis, the City of the
Dead Gods. Following the instructions given her by the
fortune-teller in the inn, she had returned to Midkemia
and found her way back to Novindus, and from there to
the Necropolis. Then she flew upward, guided by her
arts, despite her fatigue, and she sought out this mythical
place atop the mountains called the Pavilion of the Gods.
At last, when she had to use her powers to preserve air
around her, she found what she sought, a splendid place
atop a cloud, a vast series of halls and galleries that
seemed created out of ice and crystal as well as stone and
marble.
The clouds thinned, and she saw that the massive
building stood atop the summit of the greatest mountain
in the area, and in the center stood a single immense
opening.
She floated through the clouds surrounding the Celestial
City, moving through the door effortlessly. She felt
a tingle as she passed through the spell that kept the
freezing cold out and the air inside.
The man she had spied across the grand hall floated
across the vast expanse of floor to meet her. She took a
moment to study her surroundings. A vaulted ceiling was
suspended nearly seventy flights of steps above his head,
supported by twelve mighty columns of stone, each
chosen for beauty. She quickly chose her own favorite,
one fashioned of malachite, the green veins of polished
stone that could capture the eyes for hours. The rose
quartz was lovely, too, but something about the green
stone spoke to her.
The floor of the hall was partitioned by some faint
energy. Miranda used every trick of perception she had,
and decided the fields were not barriers or traps but
something closer to signatures, as if each area had a
specific use or identity, but only noted for those able to
sense those energy barriers. And in each area beings
moved, humans from their outward appearance, but all
wearing some of the strangest fashions she had ever
seen.
The great windows were set with crystal panes so clear
they seemed air frozen in an instant, and the snow fields
outside reflected the afternoon sunlight on the peaks
above, bathing the great hall in rose and golden hues.
Those people moving across the vast floor threw long
shadows, as jeweled, faceted globes threw soft white light
across the hall, the source of that light having nothing to
do with nature.
The approaching man glided through the air, standing
regally as if being carried by a company of invisible
bearers upon a heavy platform. He touched foot to the
stone floor of the hall as Miranda gently touched down
on the marble floor.
Several others nearby turned to observe the confrontation,
though they remained silent. Miranda threw back
her cloak's hood, shaking her dark hair as she glanced
around the hall.
'Who comes to the Celestial City?'
With amusement she answered, 'A fine lot of gods you
are if you don't know who comes to your own palace to
visit. I am called Miranda.'
The Warden said, 'None may invade the precinct of
the gods without invitation.'
Miranda grinned. 'Odd. I'm here, aren't I?'
'None may invade without permission and live to
leave,' said the Warden.
'Well, consider me an uninvited guest, not an invader.'

'
What cause brings you to the Hall of the Gods?'
Miranda inspected the figure before her. like the
others who inhabited the hall, he wore an odd robe,
tight-fitting across the shoulders, but billowing out
below the arms, forming a perfect circle at the hem
almost six feet in diameter. Miranda guessed there was a
thin band of metal or heavy cord sewn into the hem.
The sleeves were long, and also flared along the length,
while the collar was stiff and high, surrounding the back
of the head up to the ears, giving Miranda the impression
that she spoke to a six-foot-tall doll fashioned from
interlocking cones of paper, with a painted day head
stuck on the top. What a peculiar-looking character, she
thought.
His face had olive-shaded skin darkened by years of
exposure to bright sun, and his beard was as white as
the snow outside. Eyes of pale blue regarded her from
under white brows.
She glanced around the hall, wishing she had more
time to study the place. Its grandeur was nothing less
than breathtaking, yet somehow it was alien and as cold
as the wind outside the great door. No mortal lacking
great magic would find his way to this abode of the
gods, for the clime was impossible. At least a hundred
feet below the base of the plateau the air became too
thin to breathe long and remain alive, and the
temperature was constantly below freezing.
Most of the people were turned her way, and she
noticed that each group seemed set off, isolated by the
sense of separate areas she had detected upon entering,
as if there was a zone on the floor they were confined to.
After a moment, she was certain no one was leaving a
given area to enter another.
'You limit the gods?' asked Miranda.
'They limit themselves, as they always have,' came the
answer. 'Again I must ask, what cause brings you here?'
'I come because there are terrible forces gathering, and
this world stands in jeopardy. I have visited with the
Oracle of Aal, and she is ready to enter her breeding
phase. Her vision will be lost to us. Those forces that
march are committed to a course of action that will bring
about the end of all we know, including this.' She waved
her hand, indicating the hall.
The Warden closed his eyes a moment, and Miranda
knew something was being communicated; then he said,
'Speak more.'
'Of what?'
'Of what you hope to find here.'
'I had hoped for some sense that the gods of Midkemia
were ready to answer the threat to their very existence!'
Her anger was poorly hidden, and contempt edged her
words.
'These are but the aspects of the gods,' answered the
Warden, 'those men and women who have, for reasons
beyond our mortal understanding, been chosen to exist
on the gods' behalf. They have come to live out their lives
as mortal aspects of the gods, eyes and ears granting the
gods mortal perspective on the world in which they
abide.'
Miranda nodded. 'Then I would speak to one of these
godly aspects, if you don't mind.'
'I have nothing to say in the matter,' came the answer.
'I am but the Warden of the Celestial City. It is my task to

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 429

keep those who abide here comfortable.' He closed his
eyes. 'You may speak to whoever will answer.'
Walking past the Warden, Miranda approached the
area nearest the entrance, where a group of men and
women stood surrounding one who loomed over them
by a full head. All wore white, without a hint of color,

and the woman at the center- of the group had hair
without hue. Her skin was also without pigmentation,
but rather than possessing the look of an albino, she
appeared to be of some alien race, with skin truly white
in color. Those who surrounded her stepped aside, allowing
Miranda to approach. At a respectful distance,
Miranda bowed her head, then she said, 'Sung, I plead
for help.'
The living incarnation of the goddess stared down at
the young woman. Her eyes held mysteries "Miranda
could only begin to guess, but her face presented a kindly
visage. Yet no answer was forthcoming. Miranda pressed
on. 'A great evil arises here, one that, unchecked, will
release forces to rival even your own. I must seek aid!'
For a long moment the goddess studied Miranda; then
with an economy of motion she indicated the woman
-should move to another area. 'Seek one not yet come
among us.'
Miranda hurried to another quarter of the hall, in
which an empty area stood ready, but unoccupied. Shifting
her perceptions through each phase of sight she
knew, Miranda searched for some hint of what she might
find here.
A glyph shimmered in a spectrum of light beyond the
ability of most men to see, yet "Miranda saw it. She turned
to discover the Warden had followed her, floating a foot
above the stone floor.
'Who placed such a mark here?'
'One who recently visited, like you.'
'What does the symbol mean?'

'It is the mark of Wodan-Hospur, one of the Lost
Gods, whom we await.'
'You await the return of gods lost during the Chaos
Wars?' she asked in surprise.
'Everything is possible in the Hall of the Gods.'
'What was the name of this man?'
'I may not say.'
'I am seeking Pug of Stardock,' said Miranda. 'At the
Inn, in the Hall of Worlds, I was told to come here.'
The Warden shrugged. 'Such matters are not my concern.'
'
Has he been here?'
'I may not say.'
Miranda thought, then asked, 'If you can say nothing
else, where might I go next to find this man?'
The Warden hesitated. 'It may be that you need to
look at that place where you were misled.'
Miranda said, 'I thought as much.' With a wave of her
arm, she was one, a faint popping sound the only indi9

cation of her having been there.
One of the people attending a nearby god turned and
threw back his hood. He was short of stature, his eyes
the color of dark walnut aged and stained, his beard as
dark as that of a lad of twenty, but his manner and size
did little to disguise the aura of power that surrounded
him.
Stepping over to where the Warden waited, he said,
'You've served your purpose.' With a wave of his hand
the figures in the hall vanished, leaving only a vast
emptiness of rock and ice. Cold air rang in through the
now unprotected opening and bit with enough harshness
to make him gather his cloak tightly around him.
Glancing around to see that no trace of illusion remained,
he was raising his hands to will himself to
another place when a voice said, 'Gods, it's cold without
that illusion.'

430        RAYMOND E. FEIST

SHADOW OF A DARK.QUEEN    43I

The man turned, and standing a yard away was the
woman. 'Pug of Stardock?'
The man nodded. 'Neatly done, lady. There are few who
could have seen through the ruse.'
She smiled and something oddly familiar hinted at
recognition, then was gone. 'I didn't. But things just didn't
feel right, and I thought if I could seem to have left, then
perhaps I might learn something.'
The man smiled. 'You simply turned yourself invisible

and made the proper noise.'
The woman nodded. 'You are Pug?'
The man said, 'Yes, I am Pug of Stardock.'
The woman's face took on an expression of concern,
and again there was something hauntingly familiar about
her. 'Good. We must go. There is much to be done.'
'What are you talking about?' asked Pug.
'Khaipur has fallen and Lanada is undone by treachery.'
Pug nodded. 'I know this. But for me to act too soon --!
'And the Pantathians counter your magic with their
own. I know. But there is more here than a simple bashing
of magics, like rams banging heads in the mountains.' Her
breath hung in the frigid air and she waited.
Pug said, 'Before I presume to tell you there are forces at
play beyond your knowledge, I suppose I should find out
what you know.'
He vanished.
'Damn,' said Miranda. 'I hate it when men do that.'

Pug had two goblets of wine poured when Miranda
popped into existence. 'Why did you do that?'
'If you couldn't follow me, then telling you anything
was pointless.' Pug handed her a goblet. 'There's something
vaguely familiar about you,' he observed.
Miranda took the wine and sat down on a divan opposite
a writing desk; Pug pulled out the stool that went
with the desk, and sat down.

432

RAYMOND E. FEIST

'Where are we? Stardock?' She glanced around. The
room was small and lacking any decoration. All she could
see indicated that this was a library. Books lined every
wall, save one narrow space that held a window, and
besides the divan, desk, and chair, the room was devoid
of furniture. A pair of lamps burned, one at each end of
the room.
Pug nodded. 'My quarters. No one can get in or out but
myself, and no one expects me to visit, as no one has seen
me here in twenty-five years.'
Miranda looked around. 'Why keep it so?'
'I made a major display of breaking off my ties here,
after my wife died.' He spoke of her death in a matter-of fact
tone, but Miranda could see a tiny tension around
the corners of his eyes as he mentioned this. 'If someone
is to come looking for me, they'll look on Sorcerer's Isle.
I've left enough people who work magic there that any
spell designed to detect magic will be ringing like a dinner
bell.'
'And as magic is being practiced here every day, if you
do decide to do some work, no one will notice.' She
sipped her wine and said, 'Very neat. And this is very
good.'
'Is it?' asked Pug. He sipped. 'Yes, it is. I wonder
which. . .' He held up the bottle. 'I have to ask Gathis if
there is more of this in the cellar at Sorcerer's Isle when I
return.'
'Why all the misdirection?' asked "Miranda.
'Why were you looking for me?'
'I asked you first.'
Pug nodded. 'Fair enough. The Pantathians are wary of
me and my arts. They've discovered ways to neutralize
me, so I make sure they and their agents can't find me.'
'Neutralize you?' Her eyes narrowed. 'I've run across
snake magic before and there are smoking corpses to
mark those battles. If you're as powerful as they say -'

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 433m

Pug said, 'There are more ways to stem attack than
simply to meet it with more strength. What if I were to
hold a child you love and put a dagger to her throat?'
Miranda said, 'So if they don't know where you are,
they can't threaten anyone you care about.'
'Yes. Now, why are you looking for me?'
Miranda said, 'The Oracle of Aal enters her birthing
.cycle and we lose her ability to help us. I have been

asked -'
'By whom?' interrupted Pug.
'By some people who would rather not see this world
end any time soon,' she snapped. 'I have been asked to
help preserve the Lifestone -'
Pug stood. 'How do you know of the Lifestone?'
Miranda said, 'I am Keshian. Do you remember one
who came to support the King's army at the battle?'
'Lord Abdur Rachmad Memo Hazara-Khan,' answered
Pug.
Miranda nodded. 'It took years to penetrate the illusions
and false trails, but after a while, those few who entered to
speak to the Oracle and leave with whatever wisdom she
gave them, even with that statue at Malac's Cross as the
transfer point, even after decades, the truth was known.'
'So you work for the Emperor?'
'Do you work for the King?' countered Miranda.
'Borric and I are something of cousins,'said Pug, sipping
at his wine again.
'You beg the question.'
'So I do.' He set his goblet down. 'Let's say that I'm
somewhat less constricted in my loyalties than I used to
be. Which is all beside the point. If,you know anything of
the Lifestone, you know that national interests are petty at
this point. If the Valheru reawaken, we will all perish.'
Then you must help me,'said Miranda. 'If those foolish
men I helped recruit for the Prince survive, we'll know
who and what we face.'

434        RAYMOND E. FEIST

i

Pug sighed. 'You, a Keshian, recruiting for the prince?'
'It seemed the prudent thing to do to serve my real
master's interests.'
Pug only raised an eyebrow. 'So which foolish men are
these?'
'Calis leads them.'
*Tomas's son,'said Pug. 'I haven't seen him since he was
young; it must be twenty or more years.'
'He's still young. And angry and confused.'
'He's unique. There is no other creature like him in the
universe. He's the product of a union that should not have
borne fruit, and he will die someday, unique.'
'And alone.'
Pug nodded. 'Who else?'
'A band of men condemned to die, none known to you.
And Nakor the Isalani.'
Pug smiled. 'I miss his rambling brilliance. And his sense
of fun.'
Miranda said,'Fun is far from his mind these days, I fear.
With Arutha's death, Nicholas becomes the hope for the
Western Realm, the Kingdom, and the world. He has
grudgingly adopted his father's plan, but he has little
enthusiasm for it.'
'What plan is this?'
She told him of the previous voyages to Novindus, and
of the destruction endured by Calis and his men the last
time. She told him of the plan to send men down to join
with the conquering army, men who would return with
the truth about what was facing them.
'Do you think,'asked Pug after she finished, 'that this is
anything but a full-scale consolidation of all the armed
might in Novindus, so that an attack can be launched
across the sea to seize the Lifestone?'
'The Pantathians lack subtlety,'answered Miranda, 'but
it could be someone is manipulating them the way ' they
y
manipulated the moredhel during the Great Uprising.'

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 435

Pug conceded ' that this was true. 'But every indication
is that they are seeking to put all Novindus under their
sway, to create the largest army ever seen in this world,
and from that it is just one logical step to assume they
are going to throw that army at the Kingdom, perhaps
sail right into Krondor harbor, then march across half
the Kingdom to Sethanon.' Pug was silent for a

moment, then said, 'I don't think anyone is using them
in the sense you suggest. The Pantathians are too alien
by other beings' standards, judging by everything I've
seen.
'They have a view of the universe that is so warped it
defies logic, but it is so ingrained in their very nature
that they have not allowed more than two thousand
years of observing the way in which the universe really
works to sway them from their fanatic devotion to their
unique view of things.'
"Miranda raised an eyebrow. 'That's a little too analytical
for me, Pug. I have encountered other fanatics,
and reality doesn't seem to sway them much either.'
She waved off a comment he was about to make. 'But I
see.. your point. If they move for their own dark purposes
in such numbers, then it's clear they risk all or
nothing on this massive undertaking.'
Pug shook his head no and sighed. 'Not really. The
damnable thing about all this is we can defeat them
again, perhaps destroying every man and creature they
send across the sea, but what does this gain us save
wholesale ruin on our own shore?'
'We still don't know where they live,' Miranda said.
Pug nodded yes. 'We have only vague rumors. Up
north, near the headwaters of the Serpent River, the
Serpent Lake. down in the Great South Forest, somewhere
deep in the heart of the Forest of Irabek. No one
knows.'
'You've looked?'

436        RAYMOND E. FEIST

Pug nodded. 'I've used every magic spell I could find or
dream up and have traveled on foot across a great deal of
that continent. The sad truth is they are either incredibly
gifted in shielding themselves from sight, both magic and
mundane, or they are doing something so obvious I'm
not seeing it.'
Miranda sipped her wine. After a moment she said,
'That still leaves us with an army to defeat.'
'More, I'm afraid.'
'What?'
Pug said, 'I believe that Calis is going to find something
far more powerful at the heart of this particular
campaign, and I can't tell you why.' He went over to a
bookshelf. 'There are several tomes here that speak of
doorways, pathways, and routes between different levels
of reality.'
'Like the Hall of Worlds?'
Pug shook his head no. 'That place exists in the objective
universe as we understand it, though it is somewhat
of an artifact of creation, allowing those who travel the
halls to exist beyond certain limits of that objective reality.
Do you remember how real the Hall of the Gods
looked?'
'Yes. A most convincing illusion.'
'It was more than an illusion. I tapped into a higher
level of reality, a higher-energy state for lack of a better
description. A long time ago, I went into the city of the
dead gods, and entered through a ... seam, into the Hall
of the Goddess of Death. I spoke to Lims-Kragma.'
'Interesting,' said Miranda.
Pug looked at her and saw she was not mocking him.
'It was really the Goddess of Death you spoke to?'
'That's the point I'm trying to make. There is no Goddess
of Death, yet there is. There's the natural force of
creation and the equally natural act of destruction. What
breaks down a once-living being provides food for new

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 437

life. We understand so little of these things,' he said,
showing a hint of frustration. 'But these personifications,
these gods and goddesses, they may be but a way in
which we, who live in one state of reality, can interact
with forces, beings, energy from another reality.'
,interesting theory,' said Miranda.
'Actually, most of it is Nakor's.'
'But what has this to do with all the murder about to
be done?'
'Beings from these other states exist. I have faced the

Dread, to name but one.'
'Really?' she said, obviously impressed. 'The stealers of
life are not to be trifled with by all reports.'
'That's the first clue I had.' Pug's face grew animated as
he said, 'When I fought the Dread for the first time, I
sensed a different rhythm, a different state to the energy
of his being. When I bested him, I learned a few things.
'Over the years I've discovered other things. Living on
Kelewan, the Tsurani homeworld, for a number of years
gave, me insights I never would have gained here on
Midkemia.
'One thing I've discovered is that the Dread do not
'drink" the life of hying beings on this world. They
change the energies to a state they can use. The unfortunate
side effect of that change is the death of the
creature they touch.'
'Such academic considerations are of little interest to
those who die, I'm afraid.'
'True, but you see, it's important. If they can do that,
why can't forces we can't see in our normal frame of
reference not be able to reach out and manipulate energy
here in our world?'
'Where are we going with this?' asked Miranda,
betraying impatience.
'What was the Lifestone like when you last visited the
Oracle?' asked Pug.

438        RAYMOND E. FEIST

'What do you mean?'
'Did it appear as it always did?'
'I don't know.' Miranda looked puzzled. 'It's the only
time I've ever seen it.'
'But there was something odd about it, wasn't
there?'
Miranda shrugged. 'I had a feeling . .
'That the Valheru trapped inside were somehow doing
something.'
Miranda had a faraway look. 'Stirring. I think that's
what I said. They were stirring more than usual.'
'I fear they may have found a way to interact directly
with someone or some group within the Pantathian community.
Perhaps with this so-called Emerald Queen who
now leads them.'
'That's a chilling thought.'
Pug said, 'There is something few know. Have you
heard of Macros the Black?'
Miranda said, 'By reputation.' Her tone was dry, and
Pug assumed she didn't believe the inflated tales about
the Black Sorcerer.
'Much of what he did was theatrics, but much was an
order of magic beyond even my understanding today. He
was able to do things with time that I can only speculate
on, for one example.'
Her eyes narrowed at that. 'Time travel?'
'More. Tomas and I were trapped in a time well with
him and we traveled to the dawn of time and returned.
But he could use his mind and will across eons.'
'How do you mean?'
'He used his skills and powers to fashion a relationship
between Tomas, a boyhood friend of mine, and AshenShugar
'
The Valheru whose armor he wears,' supplied
Miranda.
'It was never a simple case of an ancient magic

7

I

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 439

lingering in a mystic suit of armor. Macros used that
armor as a vehicle for his own manipulation of my
friend, centuries later, so he could act as he did during
the Riftwar.'
-that wily bastard,' muttered Miranda.
'What if Tomas's armor isn't the only vehicle for such

manipulation?'
Miranda's eyes grew wide. 'Is it possible?'
'Of course it's possible,' said Pug. 'The older I get, the
more certain I become that there is very little that isn't
possible.'
Miranda stood up and began to pace the tiny room.
'How would we know?'
'We wait for Calis to return, or somehow get word to
us. When last I saw Nakor I asked him to travel with
Calis if possible, for he is uniquely suited to spying
out this sort of problem. I suggested the possibility I
I   just spoke of to you more than three years ago. Now
that you tell me he's gone with Calis, I am content
to wait until they return. And we keep out of sight
until then, so as not to provide the Pantathians with a
target.
'I could protect myself for a while, as you can, I
am sure, but constantly having to defend myself
would prove wearisome and divert me from certain
studies.'
Miranda nodded. 'What was that business of the due
and the rest, with the Hall of Worlds and the City of the
Gods, all about, anyway?'
'I wanted a way to keep to myself and yet be found if
someone with the wit and talent needed to find me.
Had you gone prowling the Hall, asking questions on
any number of worlds, well, you would have encountered
difficulty.'
'I was warned of your assassins,' she countered.
'Who told you?'

440        RAYMOND E. FEIST

'It was the gossip of the day at Honest John's.'
Pug said, 'The next time I hire someone for a quiet
undertaking, I think I will avoid the Inn.
'Who directed you to Mustafa's?'
'Boldar Blood.'
'When you left Mustafa, I went ahead to the mountains
to wait for you. The simple trick of telling you to
go somewhere else was my last trick.' He smiled. 'Had
you not proved so agreeable a guest, I would have disposed
of you up on those cold peaks so as to be as far
from Stardock as possible when the Pantathians noticed
the display.'
Miranda gave him a sour expression. 'Lacks subtlety.'
'Perhaps, but time grows short and I have much work
to do while I wait for Calis and Nakor.'.
'Can I be of help? Boldar Blood is waiting for me in
an inn in LaMut if he can be of service.'
'For now, send word to him to wait; let the mercenary
enjoy Tabert's girls and ale,' said Pug. 'As for you,
there are any number of tasks around here that I could
use help with, if you don't Mind.'
'I won't cook,' she said, or mend your smallclothes.'
Pug laughed. He was genuinely amused. 'My, that's
the first good laugh I've had in a long time.' He shook
his head. 'Hardly. I can get all the dinner and laundry I
require on Sorcerer's Isle. I inform Gathis, and when all
is ready, I transport food in and linens out.
'No, I need you to start digging through a large part of
a very old library, looking for clues.'
'Clues to what?' asked Miranda, now obviously intrigued.
'
Clues to where we may have to go to find someone if
the need arises.'
Cocking her head to one side, as if she already knew
the answer, she said, 'Looking for whom?'     t
Pug said, 'If Calis brings me the news I fear most of

I

I

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEE-N   44I

all, we're going to have to find the only being I know of
who can counter the sort of magic we'll face. We're going
to have to try to once again locate Macros the Black.'

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN  443

minor deviations, the tunnel was a uniform seven feet in
TWENTY                     height, ten feet wide, and apparently endless.
At several points along the way larger areas had been
dug out that might have served for rest areas or places to
Passage                    store provisions, but their original use could only be
guessed at by those now passing.
Calis turned back to where Luis waited and motioned
for him to come forward. Erik wondered at the choice
Calis signaled.                            Until he saw Calis draw a dagger from his belt.
Silently the men behind him halted in place and                                 Beyond the Captain lay another opening, but Erik had
raised hands to warn the others farther down the line to                    the impression this was more than another widening in
stop. Since entering the tunnel two days before, they                       the tunnel. He sensed air movement and wondered if
had adopted silent travel. All communication was done                       they had reached some portion of the abandoned underby
hand gestures and noise was kept to a minimum.                           ground city Praji had told of. He knew it was not
possible
While every man in Calis's company had been trained                        that they had come far enough to enter the particular
in such practices, the clansmen under Hatonis and the                       one Praji spoke of down in the south, but perhaps there
mercenaries hired by Praji had been a noisy bunch at                        was another such place up here, in the mountains.
first. They had learned quickly, however, and no longer                          Calis and Luis vanished into the gloom. The single
needed constant reminders to keep silent. torch was at the center of the column, and the light
Of the one hundred and eleven men who had left the                         barely reached either end. Erik did not know how Calis
rendezvous - the sixty-six men in Calis's command and                       did it; his vision must be inhuman, for the faint light
that
the forty-five with Greylock, Praji, Vaja, and Hatonis -                    reached the head of the line barely gave Erik enough
seventy-one had survived the clash with the Saaur                           illumination to see de Loungville's back as he crouched,
above.                                    waiting. Erik hugged himself, for it was cold in the pas'
Above' was how they now thought of the Plain of                           sage. All the men were chilled, but they endured it in
Djams. The tunnel had moved continuously down until                         silence.
Nakor estimated they were close to a quarter mile below                          Since losing Foster, de Loungville had been
delegating
the surface. At camp the night before he had whispered                      tasks equally to Biggo and Erik that usually fell to the
to Erik that someone had once badly wanted to trade on                      corporal. Erik was uncertain if this was any endorsement
the plains above to have built such a long and deep                         of his ability or simply a question of proximity; they
were
passage; either that, or they had wanted their front                        the two men de Loungville was most likely to find at his
door a very long, defensible distance from their                            back when he turned around.
home.                                      A few moments later, Calis and Luis returned, and
The tunnel had been a uniform size, varying only                           Calis spoke in a hushed whisper, while Luis returned to
with an occasional outcropping of stone that was easier                     his normal place in line. 'It's a large gallery, and
we're
to move around than to dig through. Except for ~those                       entering through a passage that empties into a ledge

444

RAYMOND E. FEIST

leading both downward and up - it's wide enough for
three men to walk abreast, but there is no rafling and it's
a long way down, so pass the word that when we move
out everyone should be cautious of the edge. I'm going to
explore. You rest here for a half hour, and if I'm not back,
that means follow the upward path.'
De Loungville nodded and motioned for rest. Those
behind him passed along the silent instruction and the
men sat where they were. Erik shifted around until he
found a relatively comfortable position resting against
the cold stone, while the others did likewise.
He heard a faint scraping sound and realized de
Loungville was counting knots in a thong. It was an old
trick, moving your fingers along a piece of rope, twine, or
leather, silently reciting a fixed ditty, one that had been
practiced over and over until it was almost as exact as
sand falling in a glass. De Loungville would move his
fingers down a knot each time he finished the rhyme;
when he reached the end of the thong, ten minutes
would have passed. When he had used the thong three
times, the half hour would be up.
Erik closed his eyes. He couldn't sleep, but he could
relax as much as possible. Without thought he put his
hands on his aching legs and felt them grow warm with
the healing power he had learned from Nakor. As the rest
of his body was chilled by the cold rocks, it was a
welcome sensation.
Erik wondered how the rest of the villagers in Weanat
were doing, and what would become of them when the
Emerald Queen's army reached that area. There were so
many invaders there was no chance they could lie low in
the woods until they left. That host would strip the land
of everything edible for five miles on both sides of the
river. The only hope those villagers had would be to go
up into the mountains and hide in the high valleys.
Perhaps Kirzon and his people would help them. Erik

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 445

doubted it; they would have barely enough food for the
winter for themselves.
Then he wondered what his mother was doing. He had
no idea what time it was back home - he didn't really
know what time it was above; he thought it was midday.
That probably meant it was the middle of the night back
in Ravensburg. She was most likely asleep in her little
room at the inn. Erik wondered if she knew he still lived.

Her last news of him might have been that he had been
condemned to die. Given the secrecy surrounding the
mission and the chance of not surviving training, he
suspected she thought him dead.
He sighed softly and wondered how she was, and
Rosalyn and Milo and the others in the village. They
seemed so far away and that life so alien, he could barely
remember what it felt like to rise up every day with his
only expectation being hard work at the forge.
Suddenly he felt a touch on his wrist and looked over
to see de Loungville in the dim light signaling it was time
to move out. Erik reached over and nudged the dozing
Biggo, who nodded and nudged the man next in line.
Erik rose and moved out after the sergeant, who passed
through the opening to the gallery, and turned right on
the walkway, heading upward. In the deep darkness, Erik
could only sense the size of the place, and he was about
halfway around the circular path when the man holding
the torch emerged from the sidepassage. Suddenly Erik
could see the entire gallery and he involuntarily stepped
back against the wall. The floor was lost in the gloom
below, despite the torch light, as was the ceiling above. A
faint draft of air rose up, and it carried a damp, stale odor.
Erik wished he hadn't known the pathway was so
narrow and the fall so great, as now he walked with con~
siderably more discomfort. He moved on, and followed
de Loungville upward into the darkness.

446

RAYMOND E. FEIST

At several points along the way they encountered
entrances to new tunnels, and they paused to see if Calis
had marked any, indicating they should leave the upwardly
spiraling path. They never saw any marks.
There were wide places, as if ledges had been carved
into the rock of the mountain, to allow more comfortable
movement, and places where the men could sit. Erik had
no idea how long they had been following Calis, but he
knew his legs hurt. The constant upward climb was
taking its toll.
Suddenly they saw Calis ahead in the gloom. He said,
'This area is deserted.'
The men seemed to relax at that, and de Loungville
said, 'Praji, is this lie that dwarven place you spoke of.>'
'Not that I'd recognize,' said the old mercenary. He was
short of wind and obviously pleased to be halting, even if
only for a few minutes. 'Mind you, I have only tales, but
it's been described to me several times by different people
who've been there.' He looked around. 'This place ... I
don't know what it is.'
Calis said, 'There are dwarven mines back home and
I've been through a couple. They have galleries and such,
but this is something different. No dwarven hand built
this place. This is no mine,'
Erik heard Roo's voice coming from behind. 'This looks
Eke a city, Captain.'
Erik turned and heard Calis say, 'A city?'
Roo said, 'Well, something like it. Those tunnels lead to
other places, maybe. Sleeping quarters or places to store
goods. But those wide places, if you noticed, are in a
pattern: there's one for every two entrances along the
way, and they're all of uniform size. I think they're like
market areas.'
'Then this would be some sort of central passage, like a
boulevard in a city, only it moves up and down instead of
north and south,' said Biggo.

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 447

,Who would have built such a place?' asked Erik.
Calis said, 'I don't know.' He changed the subject.
,We're about at ground level, so I'm inclined to start
looking for a way out. I'm going to explore the next
corridor we come to. I want the men to make camp at the
next "market' area we find.'
,is it sundown already?' asked de Loungville.
,I'd judge it an hour past,' said Nakor from behind.

'More like two,' answered Calis.
'How do you know?'blurted Roo..
Calis smiled in the dim light. 'I'll be back before dawn.'
With that he moved ahead, and the weary column of
men followed after until they came to the next wide
space on the trail, where they gladly settled in for a
night's rest.

Erik discovered he had no sense of time in these caves.
Calis had mentioned to de Loungville that it had been
two and a half days of travel, which in his judgment
accounted for a twenty-mile journey from the hillock to
the foothills of the mountains, and then a gradual climb
into the interior of a large peak. Erik felt as if it had been
a lot farther, but he realized that so much of the trek had
been up the spiral path inside this mountain.
Earlier that day, Calis had said he was convinced the
entire region was deserted, but there was something in
his voice that hinted to Erik there was more that he was
not sharing. Despite Erik's constant pledge to himself not
to seek trouble but to mind his own business, he couldn't
help but wonder what it was that seemed to be lurking
behind the Captain's words.
One fortunate result of Calis's exploration was his
saying that he thought they were getting close to a way
out of this maze of dark passages and tall caverns. At one
point he had hesitated between two large tunnels, one
angling down into the mountain, the other veering once

r
448

RAYMOND E. FEIST

ward. Erik sensed Calis had wanted to take the
other tunnel, the one heading deep into the heart of the
mountains, but he kept them moving upward. Erik
wondered what had drawn Calis to that other tunnel.
Late the next day, the soldier carrying the bundle of
torches said they were running low. Calis acknowledged
the report, saying nothing else.
Erik felt an unexpected stab of fear at the thought of
being in these mines without light. They had been extinguishing
the torches when they slept. On the first night
he had awakened in total darkness and had to Aght back
the urge to shout in alarm. He had never awakened to so
utter a blackness, and he had lain there listening in the
dark. He realized he was not the only one awake, for he
could hear the rapid breathing of men not able to sleep in
such conditions, and the quiet weeping of one or two
who felt terror so profound he could understand it even
if he couldn't name it.

Another fitful night was spent in utter darkness, and
then they resumed their march. At noon on the fifth day
they broke for the midday meal, more dried rations.
Water was a problem, as they had only two large skins
and a handful of smaller ones, filled at an underground
pool the morning before. But there was no sign of water
anywhere nearby, and Calis ordered the men to drink as
they had in the desert, one mouthful, no more.
As they were readying to move out, a distant clatter
rang through the tunnel, as if someone had dislodged
rocks. Calis motioned for everyone to stand still. After a
while de Loungville whispered, 'Rock slide?'
'Perhaps,' answered the Captain. 'But I need to be
sure.' He pointed up and toward the left. 'If I am correct,
somewhere up ahead you should come either to an
opening that leads directly to the surface, showing you
some light, or a big passage leading up and away to the

SHADOW 6F A DARK OUEEN 449

left. Ignore any passages that clearly lead downward or
off to the right.' He smiled slightly. 'You should be on the
surface by the time I catch up with you. I will follow as
soon as I am sure there is nothing behind us.'
'Do you want a torch?' asked de Loungville.
'I can find my way without one. if we are being
followed by the Saaur, I don't want any light to show

them where I am if I get too close.'
Erik wondered how he could find his way through the
dark, and, even if he could, how he was willing to give up
the torch's reassurance, scant as it was. Calis moved
down the line, offering a quick tap on the shoulder or
nod to each of the men as he passed them.
De Loungville motioned for hand signals only and indicated
they should follow him. Erik discovered he was
now second in line. He peered into the gloom, barely able
to see ten feet beyond the sergeant into the murk, as the
flickering torch in the middle of the line caused the
shadows to dance. He fervently hoped that Calis was
correct and they were getting close to getting out of these
caves. They moved forward.

Faint noises echoed through the passages as the torch
burned low. De Loungville judged Calis had been gone
for almost a half day. The men were tired, and it seemed
an appropriate time for sleep.
Motioning for a halt, he whispered back, 'How many
torches?'
The answer came, 'We have two after this one.'
De Loungville swore. 'If the Captain doesn't get back
soon, we may be truly lost in the dark tomorrow, unless
that passage he spoke of is nearby. Put out that torch and
make sure you have everything needed to light it quickly
if there's any trouble. I want two shifts, first four hours
and second four; then we walk out of this gods-forsaken
hole.'

I

450        RAYMOND E.PEIST

Erik knew he would be among those sleeping first, so
he lay down and tried to get as comfortable as possible.
Despite being tired to his bones, he just couldn't find it
easy to sleep in the pitch darkness on rock.
He closed his eyes and heard muttering which told him
that the torch had been extinguished; he was not alone
in being troubled by the total absence of light.
He kept his eyes closed and turned his mind to pleasant
thoughts. He wondered how the harvest at home this
year had gone and how the grapes looked. He recalled
the growers bragging about a record crop, but that was
nothing unusual. You could usually tell if they were just
talking to hear themselves talk or if they truly meant it by
their manner. The more earnest they were that it was to
be a great year, the more you could suppose it wouldn't
be, but if they spoke of the harvest in a matter-of-fact,
nearly indifferent way, it would be a great year.
He then wondered how the other young men and
women in the village were. He thought about Gwen and
regretted he hadn't gone to the orchard with her on the
occasions he might have. Having a woman was a great
deal more than he had imagined, and the memory of the
whore's softness roused his flesh despite his fatigue. He
thought of Rosalyn and found himself both fascinated
and disturbed by remembering her without her clothing.
He had seen her numerous times as a child bathing, but
seeing her woman's breasts as she lay before the tree ...
He found the memory now oddly disturbing, as if there
must be something wrong to think about how she looked
as the result of a rape.
Erik tried to turn over and succeeded only in making
himself less comfortable. Maybe he could talk to Nakor
about this unsettling memory of Rosalyn; the funny man

seemed to know a great deal and perhaps could tell Erik
why he was suddenly aroused by such a repulsive
memory.

e

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 45I

Yet when he thought of that night the rage and anger
were distant, and the murder seemed as if it happened to
someone else. But those small firm breasts ...
He groaned slightly and sat up, suddenly disoriented in
the darkness. He started to berate himself for being as

depraved as any man living when it struck him suddenly
there was light coming from ahead in the tunnel. It was
faint, but any light would be noticeable in the absolute
gloom of the cavern.
He sensed more than saw the form of de Loungville
before him and saw that the soldier who was to have
been on duty had dozed off. He felt no anger for the man:
remaining alert in total darkness was almost impossible.
The sound of slow breathing everywhere told Erik he
might be the only man remaining awake who was close
enough to the head of the column to see the light.
,He gently reached past de Loungville and nudged the
sentry. The man came awake, saying, 'What?'
De Loungville was awake an instant later and also
whispered, 'What?'
Before the sentry could say anything, Erik said, 'Marc
thought he saw light ahead, Sergeant. He was asking me
if I saw it, too.' Turning to the sentry, he said, 'Yes, there
is light up there.'
De Loungville said, 'Wake the others. Quietly. No
torch. First six men come with me.'
They crept forward, and after a few steps, Erik could
see it was a moving light, coming from the left, from a
passage that intersected the one in which they traveled
fifty or so feet farther along. As they neared the passage,
it was clear it was rapidly growing brighter, then
suddenly de Loungville was motioning for everyone to
hug the walls.
The sounds of movement preceded a figure who
strode into view, passing through the intersection
without a glance right or left. Erik gripped his sheathed

I

452        RAYMOND E. FEIST

sword hilt, ready to pull it free should the need arise.
The creature was a serpent man, dressed in a tunic and
leggings rather than trousers, which allowed his short tail
to swing freely.
Behind him came two more, larger and dressed in
armor. Erik had had a good look at the Saaur, a better
look than he would care to repeat, but these creatures
were of a different stripe. The tallest of them was smaller
than a human by a head, and they were sinuous. Erik
noticed they seemed slow and deliberate in their movement.
He wondered if it might be the chill in the cavern
that slowed them, for Nakor had said these creatures
were cold-blooded.
Another pair of guards passed through, one glancing in
their direction. Erik waited, but the creature moved on
without comment or alarm. Erik could only reason that
the creature's night vision had been harmed by the closeness
of the torch before it, and that, hugging the walls,
the humans were nearly invisible.
Another pair, then another, until a full dozen
Pantathians walked by.
De Loungville motioned for the others to wait, then
moved to where the light was quickly fading. He hurried
back and whispered, 'They're gone.'
As the tunnel was plunged into darkness again, they
reached the remaining column, now alert to the last
man. Nakor, who had worked his way to the head of the
line, said, 'Serpent men, yes?'
'How'd you know?'
'I felt them' was his answer. 'I feel a lot of strange
things here. This is a bad place.'
'I'll not argue that,' said de Loungville. He let his
breath out slowly, in frustration. Then he said, 'I want us
out of here as fast as we can get.'
Erik found listening to his voice in pitch darkness only
heightened his appreciation of the tone of frustration in

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 453

the man's statement. Then de Loungville asked, 'Which
way do we go?'
Nakor whispered, 'We move roughly to the southeast.
I think we go the way the snake men came from, not
follow after. I think they came from the surface and go
somewhere deep within the mountain. We are high
enough that we will find it cool, cold even, when we
come out. Serpent people don't like the cold, so I think

that would be the place they don't live.'
'You think they live down under the mountain?'
'Could be,' Nakor answered. 'Hard to know, but they
are here and we need to do many things before we start
fighting again. If we die, then no one knows what's really
going on, and that is bad.'
De Loungville was silent. Erik found himself growing
uncomfortable with the duration and at last said, 'Sergeant?'
'
Shut up,' came the quick response. 'I'm thinking.'
Erik and the others stayed silent. Then at last de
Loungville's voice cut through the darkness. *Greylock!'
he called, his voice low but urgent.
From the rear a figure moved slowly forward, trying
not to step on feet in the dark. At last a voice said, nearby,
'Yes?'
'You're in charge. I expect you to get as many of this
company out alive as you can.'
The former officer said, 'I will, Sergeant. I'd like Erik
for my second.'
De Loungville didn't hesitate. 'Von Darkmoor, you act
as sergeant for a while. Jadow, you're his corporal. All of
you pay attention to whatever Nakor and Hatonis have
to say.
'This is what you're going to do. I'm waiting here for
Calis. I don't want to try to mark the passages we take in
case more of those Pantathians come this way. Leave me
one torch and I'll wait here until I decide the Captain's

I

454

RAYMOND E. FEIST

not coming back.' There was a note of urgency and
worry in his voice Erik had never heard before. He
wondered if he would have noticed it had he been able
to see de Loungville's face.
'Then I'D catch up with you,' continued de Loungville.
'
Now, here's what you do. When you reach the
surface, get across the grasslands as best you can, and to
the coast. Acquire horses or steal a boat, but somehow
get back to the City of the Serpent River. Trenchard's
Revenge is there or she's been sunk, for Nicholas gave
orders that at least one ship would remain for us.
Hatonis and his men will know the best route.'
Hatonis, from the rear, spoke loudly enough for his
voice to carry just to the front of the line. 'There's an old
trade route, overland from Ispar to the City of the Serpent
River, through Maharta. It is rarely used anymore,
but it should be passable on horseback.'
De Loungville took a deep breath and said, 'All right,
light a torch and get out of here.'
The man who had been harboring the torches lit a
spark and soon the flame was going. Erik found he had
to squint, which surprised him, given how far back
down the line the light was. He turned and saw de
Loungville; the sergeant had his usual mask of determination
in place. Erik decided he wouldn't have
noticed the sound of worry if he had been looking at the
man.
Without saying anything, Erik reached out and
quickly placed his hand on de Loungville's arm, gave a
quick squeeze, and released it, the only gesture he could
make without saying something.
The sergeant looked at him, giving him only a brief
nod of acknowledgment, before Erik moved down the
tunnel. Greylock reached the junction of the tunnels,
peered both ways, then motioned for the men to follow

-I;

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 455

to the left. Erik reached the junction and as he started to
turn the corner, he fought down the urge to look back to
where de Loungville waited.
If only the Captain were here, he said to himself

silently. Where could Calis be?

calis held close to the wall as he stared in wide-eyed
amazement. He and his father had spoken many times of
what it would be like to confront their unusual heritage,
a legacy of ancient magic, warped by the skill of Macros
the Black, and used to bring to his human father the
powers incarnate of the legendary Valheru.
\Tomas had wooed and won the hand of Aglaranna, the
Queen of the Elves, and had fathered Calis, impossible
fruit of a union unique in history. Calis was young by the
reckoning of the elven people, little more than a half
century old. By human consideration, he was a man of
n-fiddle years, and by any measure, he had more than a
dozen lifetimes' experience in watching the pain and
madness of the creatures who lived on this world.
But nothing had prepared him to deal with the consequences
of what he had chosen to investigate.
- Elves possessed the ability to navigate by the dimmest
light of the night, a single moon, or distant stars, but even
dwarves were incapable of seeing in the utter blackness
of underground tunnels. Yet they had other senses, and
Calis, unlike his elven cousins, had traveled with
dwarves enough in his youth to have learned some of
their tricks: the sound of air moving, faint echoes upon
the passage walls, counting turns and remembering distances.
It was said that once upon a path, no dwarf could
ever fail to retrace his steps. Calis possessed the same
knack.
After leaving the company, he had moved back down
to the vast gallery, the circular central hall of this city
within a mountain. For that was what he was certain it

456        RAYMOND E. FEIST

had been, once in ancient days, a city beneath the
mountains, as Roo had supposed. But the youth from
Ravensburg had no idea what sort of city.
From what he had studied with Tathar and the other
Spellweavers of Elvandar, Calis had suspected from the
first that this was a city of elven construction rather
than dwarven. But the elves who had built this place
were as unlike Calis's people as they were unlike any
other mortal race. Those elves had existed as slaves to
the Valheru, and only by command of their ancient
masters could such a place have come to be built by
elven hands.
once he had reached the gallery, Calis was convinced
the sound he had heard had been nothing more than a
distant rockfall. There were no signs of pursuit; still, he
moved downward to make sure, passing the strange
split in the tunnels that had called to him so strangely.
He had moved deep within the well of darkness, and
when at last he could hear only his own breath and the
pounding of his heart in his ear, he turned back. But as
he approached that odd junction where he had hesitated
the first time he had passed, at the head of the
company, he again paused, sensing something ancient
and compelling deep within the tunnel that moved
downward.
It was a foolish risk, yet it was impossible for Calis to
resist. He knew he should ensure the others got free, but
he had faith in the cunning of de Loungville and the
skills of Nakor.
And now he knew what had called him. There was
something ancient at the heart of this hall. And he
looked upon. it with fear and astonishment.
He had taken the tunnel moving downward, following
it through another gallery, smaller than the grand
gallery they had climbed, yet large enough to have
served as a small town. High above, a faint light shone

I

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 457

down, so far away that the noon sun was but a
pinpoint, Yet that entrance, at the summit of some high
mountain, told him his instinct was correct.
This ancient place had once been home to a Valheru,
much as the great cavern below the Mac Mordain Cadal,
the ancient dwarven mines in the Grey Tower Mountains,
had been home to Ashen-Shugar, the Ruler of the
Eagles' Reaches, the Valheru whose ancient spirit had

come to possess his father and change his nature so
profoundly.
Crossing a narrow stone bridge, he had come to a set
of wooden doors large enough to admit a great dragon,
and Calis knew that once they did, for the Dragon Lords
kept their mighty mounts close at hand. In the door was
a smaller portal, one used by servants in ages past.
He had moved a heavy iron handle, and to his
surprise it opened a latch easily and without noise. The
door had swung open on hinges recently well oiled, and
Calis blinked his eyes as the sudden light threatened to
blind him.
At the end of the long cavernous hall, a ledge overlooked
a vast cavern ablaze with torchlight; and in the
center of the cavern a village of mud huts, crude and
without craft in their fashioning, was constructed
around a series of cracks. Steam rose, heralding an underground
source of heat, and at the center of the largest
vent a heat shimmer danced in the air. As he had approached,
Calis had been bewildered by the sudden rise
in temperature. Where he had been feeling damp chill
when he left the others, he was now sweating as much
as he had been in the desert. The thermal vents showed
that this Valheru hall was fashioned inside what had
once been a volcano.
The air was pungent with the smell of decay and the
stench of sulfur on the air. Calis felt his eyes burn at the
sting of it as he looked down on the scene below.

458

. Throughout the hall roamed serpent men, and at the
center rear of the hall, on a high dais, a great throne rose
against the wall. Upon that throne, where once sat a
Dragon Lord, now sat one of their tribe, a creature of
scales and claws, but its eyes were fixed upon space, for it
was ages dead. The Pantathians nearest the motionless
figure appeared to be priests, wearing vestments of green
and black, and to the mummy of some ancient reptile
king they paid homage.
Calis was no Spellweaver, but he felt the bite of magic
in the air, and around the base of the throne he saw
artifacts from eons past.
It was the presence of these items that caused him to
suffer. He ached to march into the hall, brushing aside
those creatures, and to mount those steps to the top of
the dais, casting down this lesser creature, to take possession
of the items of might that lay at its feet.
For Calis was certain these items were indeed relics of
the Valheru. Never had his blood sung so, save once
when his father had allowed him to hold the shield of
white and gold he wore into battle.
Calis fought back such foolhardy urges and tried to
make sense of the scene before him. It would be too easy
to count this simply a Pantathian village, for there were
too many strange things to account for; he wished Nakor
was here - the little man's ability to see things clearly
would have been invaluable.
As it was, Calis attempted to memorize every detail
before him, drinking in the conflicting images and trying
to record them in his mind without passing judgment on
their significance, so as not to neglect an important detail
through an error in judgment.
After a half hour, several human prisoners were
brought into the hall. Most had the vacant-eyed look of
those in shock or under some sort of spell or the effect of
drugs, but one woman struggled against her chains. The

RAYMOND E. FEIST

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 459

priests ranged themselves in a line across the lowest step
on the dais, and the centermost spread his hands, holding
in one an emerald-topped staff.
He spoke in a hissing language unlike anything Calis
had heard in his travels, and motioned to guards to take
the prisoners and move them to another place. Calis
wished for his how, that he might kill this priest; then he
wondered where such a violent rage came from.

Then the priest motioned for the first prisoner to be
brought before the throne, and two guards moved to
carry out the command. A series of ritual passes of the
staff was punctuated by guttural croaks and deep hisses,
and the emerald at the top of the staff began to glow
brightly.
Death magic surged in the room as one of the guards
held the first prisoner's head back, while another quickly
struck with a long knife, cutting the head completely
from the body. Calis held himself motionless, despite
strong anger surging up within. The guard threw the
head into a corner, and Calis followed its flight, watching
as it landed with a wet thud among a pile of heads, some
rotting, others now skulls, that sat behind the throne.
The two serpents holding the man's body lifted it,
carried it to a recessed chamber, and tossed it down out of
sight. The screeches of hunger that answered caused
Calis to swallow hard.
The woman who seemed unfazed by the drugs started
screaming, and Calis felt his nerves grow taut. He
clutched his sword hilt and ached to charge this den of
monsters. One by one the drugged prisoners were
slaughtered, their heads tossed to the pile after dark
magics seized their life energy, and the bodies were fed to
the Pantathian young.
The woman screamed continuously as she crouched
on the floor, her terror outracing her fatigue. At last she
remained alone before the priests. The priest with the

l~

I

460

RAYMOND E. FEIST

emerald-topped staff motioned for the guards to take the
woman next and they lifted her up, ripping her tunic
free, so she stood naked in front of the priest, who
ignored the warm sticky puddle he stepped in as he
walked through the pooling blood of the victims.
Calis saw the priest motion the guards to hold the
woman fast, and he saw them force her to lie back,
holding her down while the priest began to make more
motions with the staff and prod her with the butt end
while singing in his alien tongue.
Calis felt his throat tighten. He had encountered the
Pantathians' evil sorcery before. They were able to use
humans to create Pantathians who looked like humans.
Calis had seen the results before and knew it was a
powerful, black art being practiced below.
Calis was no student of magic, but he had some knowledge
of it, and this next act was too vile for him to begin
to understand. As the priest removed a long dagger from
his robe and advanced upon the now shrieking woman,
Calis looked away.
He judged himself too close to this place of dark magic
for too long and moved backwards, slowly, into the
gloom. A few paces up the passage, he turned, and hurried
up the long tunnel. He quickly slipped through the
door, closing it behind him, and paused a moment to let
his senses start to adjust to the gloom.
As he paused, he considered what he had just seen. It
was impossible to imagine what the Pantathians gained
from the priest's slow torture of a human woman. He had
no doubt that eventually the priest would kill the
woman, and her head would join the others on the pile
as her body went to nourish the young.
He wished for a moment that Nakor had been along,
for the strange little man who claimed not to believe in
magic seemed to know more about it than just about
anyone Calis had met. He might make some sense of,how

sure.'
'Smelled like me ...
'It's been a while since you've had a bath, Bobby.'
'You're no bunch of roses either, Calis.'
'Have you a torch?'
To answer, De Loungville struck steel to flint and set a

hot spark into the treated cotton wadding wrapped on a
stick. The flame started modestly but spread quickly, and
by the time de Loungville held it up, they were bathed in
a pool of light.
'Call me mother, but you look a fright,' said de
Loungville. 'What did you find down there?'
'I'll tell you when we've put some distance between us
and it. Which way?'
'We found a passage used by some serpent men, so I
put Greylock in charge and sent the men in the other
direction, to the left.'
'Good: that should mean they're on the surface by
now. If we hurry, we can overtake them before they get

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 46I

this ritual torture and slaughter tied into what he feared
,night be occurring with the Emerald Queen and the
Valheru artifacts of power.
Calis hurried through the darkness.
Without conscious thought, he started counting steps
and measuring distances with his hearing, and he hoped
that he'd find his company where he had left it.

De Loungville almost leaped when Calis touched his arm.
He spun around to hear a familiar voice ask, 'Where is
everyone else?'
'Captain!' de Loungville said. 'I was about to say a brief
prayer to Ruthia and a small testimonial to Lims-Kragma
on your behalf, then get the hell out of here.
'Now I can sit down and die of a burst heart!'
'Sorry I startled you, but I couldn't tell who it was here
in the dark, and it smelled like you but I wanted to be

462

RAYMOND E. FEIST

too far down the hillside. We're a lot higher up than
when we came in the tunnel, Bobby.'
'And a lot farther from where we want to be than we
were when we started,' responded de Loungville.
'We'd better hurry. We have a long way to go.' Softly
Calis added, 'And I fear not that much time to get there.'

f

TWENTY-ONE

Attrition

Erik ducked.
A shower of darts flew through the air and bounced off
his shield as he tried to keep low to the ground. Since
leaving the cavern and moving down through the hills to
the grasslands, Nakor and Sho P! had both claimed they
were being observed.
When they had finally reached an area of broken
rocks, islands of limestone, shale, and granite that broke
up pools of tall grass, a sudden attack of the Gilani had
greeted them. Six men died in the first assault, which was
barely driven back by the heroic efforts of those in the
forefront.
Greylock had quickly organized the defense, and the
struggle had gone on for nearly a half day. Two more
men had died as they retreated up the hillside, looking
for this defensive position. Praji and Vaja had moved to
the front, and were in council with Greylock as Erik
approached.
'I've got everyone situated as best I could, Owen.
We're taking a beating.'
'I know,' came the calm reply. He looked at Praji and
said, 'Any idea why they hit us?'
Praji shrugged. 'We're here and they're Gilani. They
don't like anyone who isn't Gfiani, and we're about to
enter the grasslands. That's their range and they're trying
to tell us to keep off.'
'How'd the damn grass get so tall this time of year?'
asked Greylock.

464

RAYMOND E. FEIST

Vaja said, 'There are some that grow in the winter and
others in the summer, and they are all mixed in down
there, is my guess.'
Putting aside his frustration, Greylock asked, 'Is there
another way out of these mountains?'
Praji shrugged. 'Your guess is as good as mine. Even if I
knew exactly where we were, I've never traveled this
way. Few men from the Eastlands have.' He looked
around. 'I'm guessing if we could get over the ridge' - he
pointed upward at the highest peaks of the mountains '
we might be able to make our way down to the Satpura
River. Maybe make some rafts and get down to the coast
near Chatisthan. Or we could move back up into the
foothills, staying high enough so the Gilani don't come
after us, and could head south, see if we can find a way to
the river Dee and follow that down to Ispar, but I don't
recommend that course.'
'Why not?'
'That would take us through the Great South Forest.
Not a lot of people get through there alive. Rumor has it
that's where your Pantathians hole up, and it's where
tigers that talk like men live. . .' When Greylock looked
at him with disbelief written on his face, he quickly
added, 'But that's only rumor.'
A whizzing sound in the air warned them a scant
second before another rain of darts pelted them. Erik
tried to get his bulk below his shield. A shout and curse
told him someone hadn't covered up quickly enough as
darts rained off shields and the surrounding rocks.
'How bad are the wounded?' asked Greylock.
'The wounded aren't too bad,' answered Erik. 'One of
the men has a dart in the leg, but it's down in the fleshy
part of the calf - he can walk with help. A couple of
broken arms, and Gregory of Tibum dislocated his
shoulder.'
Greylock said, 'Well, we can't outwait them here and

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN  465

find out how many Of those damn darts they're carrying.'
In frustration he added, 'Hell, we don't even know how
many Gilani there are.' The little men had swarmed over
the front of the colunm, then vanished back into the grass
when Calis's company had turned out to be ~g to
stand and make a fight of it. Since then they had been
launching random flights of darts.
Looking around, Greylock said, 'Erik, try to get back to

the rear and start the men heading back up toward the
cavern. We'll see if we can find another way down that
won't bring us back into this hornets' nest.'
Erik crouched as he moved along and twice had to
flatten himself against the rocks to avoid missiles. The
darts were rude things, but cleverly fashioned. Long reeds,
little more than heavy grass stalks, were tied together in
tight bundles until they were as rigid as arrows, and fitted
with tips of sharpened glass or stone. The tied reeds were
surprisingly strong, and they rained down with enough
impact that they could punch through any unarmored
Part of the body. Praji had mentioned that the Gilani used
a throwing stick, called an atlatl, to propel them in a high
arc over their victims' heads, causing them to fall with
great force. Erik would attest to their effectiveness.
He reached the end of the line and started the men
moving back up once more. In less than ten minutes,
Greylock, Praji, and Vaja came into view, the last of the
forward element climbing upward.
Erik looked after and saw no sign of pursuit. 'They don't
seem anxious to come up here after us,' he said.
Vaia said, 'They're not stupid. They're little fellows. In
an open fight we'd chew them up in less time than it takes
to tell of it - but coming after us from tall grass, well,
there,s no one who can fight out there better than the
Gilaili.,
Erik wouldn't argue that. 'What has made them so
hostfte?'

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 467

466        RAYMOND E. FEIST

Praji looked back. 'Usually, they simply don't like
strangers; they could be coming after us for the pure hell
of it. Or maybe the Saaur are pushing them south and
they're just mad.'
Erik said, 'But the Saaur who came after us couldn't
have mounted enough of a force to clear out these
grass-dwellers. They'd need an army as big as the one
mustering on the Vedra to do that.'
Vaja tapped Erik on the shoulder and pointed up the
hill. Calis and de Loungville were hurrying downward to
meet them.
When the Captain reached the men, Erik could see by
more than one face in the company that many were
relieved to see the Eagle of Krondor back among them.
He retrieved his longbow from the man who held it for
him and said, 'Why are you climbing back up?'
Greylock quickly explained, and Calis said, 'We can't
get over the mountains. There's nothing like a pass up
there I could see on the way down, and we can't risk
going back into the cavern to see if there is a way
through.' He thought it best not to tell anyone of what he
had seen until he compared notes with Nakor.
Turning to de Loungville, he said, *Send Sho Pi and
Jadow ahead. Tell them to find us a trail heading south. If
we can move along the face of these mountains, then
down behind these Gilani so we can then cut across to
Maharta, we still may get through this without too much
more damage.'
De Loungville nodded and went up the line to give the
order to the men who would scout for them. 'How's our
water?' asked Calis.
'We're fine if we can find a source every day or two,'
answered Greylock. 'We've got eight fewer men who
need to drink than we did a couple of hours ago.'
Calis nodded. 'Praji, what's water like out there?'
'Might as well be a desert,' came the answer. 'The Plain

of Djams has some streams and water holes, but if you
don't know where they are you can wander by one,
never see it through the grass, and die of thirst.'
'Any birds you can follow?'
'A few, but damn me if I know what they look like,'
admitted the old mercenary. 'If we get far enough to the
south, the foothills along the coast are kinder. Lots of
springs, lakes, and creeks, from what I've been told.'
,South it is,' said Calis.
Ignoring his own fatigue, he hurried past the men in

line so he could take over his position at the head of the
column.
Erik trudged upward, trying to be equally stoic as his
legs burned with fatigue. Each step up the slope took its
toll, and he was more than grateful when Calis at last
ordered a rest.
Erik waited with anticipation as the waterskin was
passed his way, and drank deeply. They had passed a pool
on the way down, so there was no reason to stint right
now.
As he handed the skin back he looked out at the distant
plain and something caught his eyes. 'What's that rippling
movement in the distance?' he asked no one in
particular.
Praji heard him and came down to where he stood.
Squinting, he said, 'My eyes aren't what they used to be.'
Turning to face up the slope, he called out, 'Captain! You
should take a look out there,' He pointed at the horizon.
Calis stared for long minutes, then said, 'Gods above,
It's the Saaur.'
'But that's impossible, said de Loungville. 'For that
many to be marching, this far south . . .'
'There had to be a second army,' finished Praji.
'No wonder those bastards were so determined to keep
us away from that entrance to the mountains,' said Vaja.
Calis said, 'They must have been using the lower

468        RAYMOND E. FEIST

portions of the cavern as a staging area. So that's why our
short friends in the grass are so out of sorts - they just got
through having an army ride through their homes.'
De Loungville said, 'They mean to hit Lanada from the
rear!'
After  minute, in which most of the men commented
or swore, Calis said, 'No, they move southeast.
They're heading for Maharta.'
Praji said, 'If the Raj has sent his war elephants to fight
with the Priest-King's army at Lanada, Maharta will be
defended by the palace guards and mercenaries.'
De Loungville swore. 'The bastards weren't keen on
having us serving them! They were just anxious to keep
us from joining the other side.' He almost spit.
Calis said, 'How long before they reach the city?'
Praji said, 'I only have a rough idea where the hell
we are.' He thought and said, 'Maybe a week, ten days
at the outside. If they don't waste their horses, two
weeks.'
'Can we get there before them?'
'No,' came the flat answer. 'If we had wings, certainly,
or if we hacked our way through those Gilani and had
fresh horses waiting for us on the other side, maybe, but
if we keep going south, there's no way we can reach the
city within a week of those lizard men.'
'Can the city hold out for a week?'
'Maybe,' answered Praj! frankly. 'It depends on how
much chaos is going on due to the host that's got to be
fleeing southward. With so many people trying to get in,
they may already be under siege.'
Erik said, 'Can we get around them?'
Vaja said, 'If we can get to Chatisthan, we might be
able to find a ship that could take us up to the City of the
Serpent River.'
Calis said, 'Too many maybes. We're going to strike for
the coast, then we'll try for the City of the Serpent River.'

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 469

He called out to Hatonis, 'Do you want to try for
Chatisthan, or head overland to home?'
Hatonis shrugged, and grinned, looking youthful
despite his grey hair. 'One fight is pretty much the same
as another, and if we don't fight the snakes at Maharta
we're certainly going to have to fight them at our own
door.'
Calis nodded. 'Let's go.'
Erik saw the others get into line, and he slapped Roo
on the shoulder as his boyhood friend walked past.

Roo gave him a crooked smile that showed there was
nothing to smile about, and Erik nodded in agreement.
Erik waited until the last man had passed, then picked
up the rear guard position. Suddenly he realized he had
taken Foster's place in line without being told. He
looked ahead to see if de Loungville was signaling or if
another was coming to take his place, but when no
word came down to give up the corporal's place, he
continued along, returning his mind to the business at
hand: staying alive.

Providence smiled upon them, as they found a southern
trail. It looked to be a miners' trail, for it was wider than
any goat herder would have needed, and at several
places along the way areas of bare rock proclaimed
those workers who had hacked their way through the
soil and stone to make it easy to get carts up and down
the road.
For Calis's company it was as if at last they were
running into some good luck. The men moved along
swiftly, at a trot for a time, then a walk, the pace
designed to cover the maximum distance by the end of
each day.
The wounded were able to keep up, though the man
with the injured leg was almost unconscious with pain
and loss of blood by the end of the day. Nakor dressed

I

470

RAYMOND E. FEIST

his wound and told Calis that with him and Sho Pi
working on it all night, the man would be slightly better
each day.
They found water and were clearly able to increase
their speed, as they moved quickly to a rising crest. A
rumbling warned them as they climbed the rise; then as
they topped the crest, in the distance they saw the falls.
De Loungville swore. They faced a gorge cut through
the mountains; below them by a hundred feet a great fall
of water cascaded into a small lake another two hundred
feet below that. From,there the river meandered southeast
toward the ocean.
Ancient rocks marked where once a rope-and-wood
suspension bridge had crossed the gap. Another pair of
rock anchors rose up on the opposite side of the gorge.
'The Satpura River,' said Praji. 'Now I know exactly
where we are.'
'Where are we?' asked Calis.
'Dead east across the Plain of Djams lies Maharta,' said
Praji. Turning to Calis he said, 'I don't know what sort of
magic was in that tunnel, but we're one hell of a lot
farther away from where we entered the grasslands than
I thought.'
'What do you mean?' said de Loungville. 'We were
fifty, sixty miles away from where we entered when we
got to that big grotto.'
'More like three hundred,' answered Vaja. 'It would
take you a month on a good horse to get back to that
mound out in the grass,' he observed, 'if you could get
past the Gilani.'
Nakor said, 'It was a very good trick, then, for I felt
nothing of it.' He smiled as if this was a major feat. Then
he grinned. 'Bet it was as soon as we moved from the
barrow. Bet you there is no tunnel there. It must be an
illusion.' He shook his head. 'Now I really want to go
back and look.'

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 47I

Calis said, 'Some other time. How far to Maharta?'
Praji shrugged. 'By caravan from Palamds to Port Grief,
a month. No one goes from there to Maharta overland they
take a ship. But there is that old coast road, if you
don't mind the bandits and other low-lifes that haunt it.'
,Where's our best course?' asked Calis.
Praji rubbed his chin a moment. 'I think we send Sho
pi and Jadow that way,' he said, pointing down the slope

near the gorge, 'to see if there's a trail down nearby. If so,
we take it. If we follow the river, we should be less than a
week from Palamds. We can find a caravan or buy
horses, and then we ride to Port Grief. From there a ship,
and we're on our way to wherever you need to go.'
'I need to get back to Krondor,' said Calis, and several
of the men nearby cheered when they heard that.
Nakor said, 'No, first we must go to Maharta, then to
Krondor.'
'Why?'asked Calis.
'We haven't stopped to ask why the Emerald Queen is
taking the river cities.'
Vaja said, 'Good question.'
'Hatonis, Praji, you have any ideas?' asked Calis.
Hatonis said, 'Conquest for its own purposes is not
unknown in this land - for booty, to enlarge one's
domain, for honor - but this simple taking of everything. . .'
He shrugged.
Praji said, 'If there was something I wanted in Maharta,
and I couldn't trust to have those other cities at my
back. . .'
Erik said, 'Maybe it has to do with getting every sword
under one banner?'
Calis looked at him for a long minute, then nodded.
'They plan on bringing the biggest army in history against
the Kingdom.'
Then Roo said, 'How are they planning on getting
there?'

472        RAYMOND E. FEIST                       SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN    473

Nakor slowly grinned as Calis said, 'Whatt'
Roo looked embarrassed as he repeated, 'How are they
planning on getting there? You needed two ships to get
us here, with stores and all. They've got, what? A
hundred thousand, two hundred thousand soldiers? And
a lot of horses and equipment. Where are they going to
get the ships?'
Hatonis said, 'The shipbuilders at Maharta are the
finest in Novindus. Only the shipwrights in the Pajkamaka
islands are their equal. Our clan has long
purchased our ships in Maharta. It is the only shipyard
that could possibly produce enough transports in a short
time, perhaps in two years or so.'
Calis said, 'Then we must make a stop there.'
Nakor said, 'Yes. We must burn the shipyards.'
Hatonis's eyes widened. 'Burn ... But the city will be
under siege. They will have put hulks into the harbor
mouth to keep the Emerald Queen's ships from sailing in,
and it will be impossible to get within twenty miles of the
city for the patrols on both sides.'
'How long will it take to rebuild those yards if they're   i
destroyed?' asked Calis.
Hatonis shrugged. 'The yards are massive, and have
been built up slowly over the last few centuries. It would
take years to restore them. Lumber must be harvested up
here and in the Sothu and Sumanu mountains and shipped
downriver or carried in wagons. The great keels take
a year or more to be cut and brought down, at great
expense.'
Nakor almost danced, he was so excited. 'If we burn
the yards, we get five, six, maybe as many as ten years
before ships can be built here. Many, many things
can happen in that time. This Emerald Queen, can
she keep her host together that long? This I think
unlikely.'
Calis's eyes seem to light with the prospect. Then he

I

I

fought back his enthusiasm and said, 'Don't sell her
short, Nakor.'
Nakor nodded. The two had spoken at great length
about what they had seen, and knew they were dealing
with the most dangerous foe since the Tsurani invasion
of the Riftwar. 'I know, but men are men, and unless the
Pantathian magic is so powerful as to make their hearts
change, many of these soldiers of hers will forsake, her

banner without payment.'
'Still,' said Hatonis, 'denying her the shipyards would
be a major victory. My father ran the most successful
trading consortium in the City of the Serpent River. We
can send men to the Pajkamaka islands and ensure they
do not sell her ships. I will personally guarantee no
shipwright in the City of the Serpent River will work on
her behalf.'
Calis said, 'You know that after Maharta she will
march on you? It's logical.'
'I know we shall have to fight her. If we must, we can
abandon the city and live again in the wild. We men of
the clans were not always city men.' Hatonis smiled a
dark smile. 'But many of her greenskins will die before
that day comes.'
Calis said, 'Well, first things first. Jadow, Sho Pi, see if
you can find us a way down from here.'
The two men nodded and trotted back along the trail,
looking for another way down.
'As long as we wait,' said Nakor, opening his bag,
'anyone want an orange?' He grinned as he pulled out a
large one and stuck his thumb in, squirting juice on Praji
and de Loungville.

They found a trail down, a narrow rocky pathway as
treacherous as the first one had been kind. Three men fell
to their deaths when a ledge of stone, seemingly solid,
had collapsed under their feet. Now the remaining sixty

474

RAYMOND E. FEIST

men huddled in a narrow defile, huddled around two
campfires, vainly trying to withstand the cold as a sudden
change in weather sent the temperature below freezing.
Calis and another three men had gone hunting, for the
remaining rations were gone, but could only come back
reporting no game was near. The company was too large,
said Calis, and game was staying clear. He said he'd leave
before first light and try to get as far down the trail as
possible, to see if he could find a deer or other large
game.
Praji said there were bison roaming the plains and
many of them lived in the woodlands of the foothills.
Calis said he'd keep that in mind.
Erik and Roo sat shoulder to shoulder, holding out
their hands to the fire, while others huddled ~rably as
close together for warmth as they could.
The only exception was Calis, who stood a short distance
away, unmindful of the chill.
Roo said, 'Captain?'
Calis said, 'Yes?'
'Why don't you tell us what's going on?'
De Loungville, from near the next fire, said, 'Keep your
mouth shut, Avery!'
Roo spoke through chattering teeth. 'Hang me now
and get it over with, why don't you? I'm too cold to
mind.' To the Captain he said, 'You and Nakor have been
thick as fleas on a beggar since you came back, sir, and,
well, if we're going to be getting killed, I'd like to know
what for before I close my eyes.'
A few other men said, 'Yes,' and 'That's right,' before
de Loungville's bellow silenced them.
'Next man opens his gob will find my boot in it! Understood?'

Calis said, 'No, there's some justice in what he said.' He
looked at the men nearest him and said, 'Many of you
will not get home. You knew that when you were given

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 475

reprieve from your sentence. Others of you are here
because you're loyal to the Lion Clan or because you're
old friends of Praji's. And some of you are just in the
wrong place.' He glanced at Greylock, who smiled a
little at the last.
Calis knelt and went on, 'I've told you some of what
we face, and I've warned you that should this Emerald
Queen prevail, this world as we know it ends.'

The clansmen and Praji's mercenaries hadn't heard
that, and several muttered disbelief. Hatonis silenced his
own men, and Praji shouted, 'He's telling the truth.
Shut up and listen.'
Calis said, 'Long ago the Dragon Lords ruled this
world. You may have heard legends of them, but they
were not legends. They were real.
'When the men of the Kingdom fought the Tsurani a
half century ago, a door was opened, a door between
the worlds. The Dragon Lords, who had left this world
ages ago, tried to use that door to return. Some very
brave and resourceful men stopped them.
'But they're still out there.' He pointed into the night
sky, and several men looked up at the distant stars. 'And
they're still trying to get back.'
Nakor suddenly spoke. 'This woman, the Emerald
Queen, she was once someone I knew, a long time ago.
She is what you would call a sorceress, a magician. She
made a pact with the serpent men and they promised
her eternal youth. What she didn't know was that she
would lose her soul, her spirit, and become something
else.'
Nakor continued, 'There is very bad magic under that
mountain.'
Calis said, 'You don't believe in magic.'
Nakor smiled, but there was little humor in his
expression. 'Call it tricks, then, or spirit force or anything
you like, but those serpent men, they use their

476        RAYMOND E. FEIST

powers in a very twisted way. They do evil things that no
sane man would think to do, because they are not sane.
'These are not the creatures that mothers tell children
of, to make them mind. These are very bad creatures
who think that one of the Dragon Lords, named
Alma-Lodaka, is a goddess. More, they think she is the
mother of all creation, the Green Mother, the Emerald
Lady of Serpents. She created them as servants, living
decoration, nothing more, but they think they are her
'favorites," like children she loves, and once they open a
door for her return, she will elevate them to the status of
demigods. They will never believe that if they do this
terrible thing, this Alma-Lodaka will sweep them away
along with everything else.'
Nakor fell silent a moment, then said, 'Calis makes no
stories. If this woman, this Emerald Queen, is behaving
as I think she is, then things are very bad. Calis, tell them
of your father.'
Calis nodded. 'My father is called Tomas. He was a
human boy as all here were. He came to own some
artifacts of power, ancient armor and a golden sword
once the property of a Valheru, by name Ashen-Shugar.
My father wore that armor and carried that sword
through the Riftwar, against the Tsurani, and over the
years he changed.
'My father is no longer human. He is something
unique on this world, a human body changed by the
spirit of the long-dead Dragon Lord who owned that
armor and sword.'
'Unique until now,' said Nakor. 'For this Emerald
Queen may be another such as he.'
The men muttered, and Calis said, 'For reasons I only
half understand, my father's nature is that of the human
boy -'
Nakor interrupted again. 'That is for another time. I
know why, and these men don't need to.'To the Men he

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 477

said, 'It's simply true. Tomas is a man, with a human
heart, despite his power. But this woman, this one who
called herself Lady Clovis a long time ago -'
Hatonis said, 'The Emerald Queen is Lady Clovis! it's
been nearly twenty-five years since she fled the city with
Valgasha and Dahakon.'
Nakor shrugged. 'It's her body.'
'The point,' continued Calis, 'is that if the Pantathians
are using their magic to do with this woman what others
did with my father ...

Calis spoke briefly of how his father, a boy from the Far
Coast, had come to wear ancient armor that magically
gave him the memories and powers of one of the ancient
Dragon Lords. 'Nakor is convinced,' he finished, 'that this
Emerald Queen is a mortal woman he once knew, with
magic ability, but still much like you, who is undergoing
a transformation much as my father did more than fifty
years ago.'
'Then another Dragon Lord may soon be among us,'
finished Nakor.
Biggo said, 'Why can't your father settle her for once
and for all - then we can all go home?'
Calis said, 'There's more to this than two Dragon Lords
facing off. More than I'm willing to tell.' He glanced at
Nakor, who nodded.
Nakor said, 'She's not a Valheru yet.' He nodded with
certainty. 'If she was, she'd come flying across the ocean
on a dragon. She wouldn't need an army.'
Calis said, 'If you're completely through?'
Nakor grinned, but without any self-consciousness.
'Probably not.'
'In any event, someone must return to Krondor and
tell Prince Nicholas what occurs here.'
'What if only one of us gets back?' asked Luis. 'What
do we say?'
Calis was silent a moment, then told them, 'You must

I

478        RAYMOND E. FEIST                     SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN    479

say this: the Pantathians bring a host to take by force what
they could not take before by guile. Leading them is one in
the mantle of a Dragon Lord who may be able to seize the
prize. Tomas and Pug must be warned.'
He looked at the faces of the men, orange and yellow
from the flicker of the firelight, all discomfort from the
cold forgotten. 'Just those three things. That will be ample
warning.
'Now repeat them: the Pantathians bring a host to take
by force what they could not take before by guile . . .'The
men repeated the sentence as if learning a lesson in school.
'Leading them is one in the mantle of a Dragon Lord
who may be able to seize the prize.' The men repeated
that.
'Tomas and Pug must be warned.' The company repeated
that, too. 'You may be asked a lot of other questions;
answer truly and do not embellish or color your
account. Truth is our only ally in this. But whatever else,
you must remember these three things.'
Nakor said, 'Now, I will help you understand what each
of those three things means, so even if you're too stupid to
remember more than those three sentences, you might at
least answer a question correctly.'
A few of the men laughed, but most remained quiet.
Calis turned away and started down the hillside on his
hunt, and he wondered silently if he could truly make any
of them understand.

Dawn saw shivering men making their way down the
trail, frost crunching beneath their boot heels. More than
one man had a fever, and all were weak from hunger.
Cabs had been ahead of them for two days now, and no
sign of game had been seen.
Thankfully, water wasn't a problem, but if they didn't
find food soon, men would begin to die. Nakor's seemingly
inexhaustible supply of oranges helped, but they

would not be enough to keep the men alive in this
climate. It was cold during the day, and colder at night,
plunging below freezing. Without much body fat,
through training and the rigors of travel, the men needed
more substantial food. Already some were plagued by the
stomach flux from eating too many oranges and nothing
else.
Erik had never seen Roo look so pale, and he knew he
must look the same. They were moving through fairly
thick woodlands, devoid of color as the leaves of fall

blanketed the ground.
De Loungville turned to signal a halt, when suddenly a
shriek cut through the air and arrows came flying.
'Defensive square,' shouted de Loungville.
Erik snapped his shield to the front, kneeling to cover
as much of his body as possible while the other men in
his squad did the same, forming a large square, roughly
fifteen men to a side, ready to take the attack.
The brush and nearby piles of leaves exploded with the
forms of the men who had been hiding there, and others
came running from nearby hiding places. Erik saw the
green armbands and shouted, 'It's the snakes' men!'
Steel dashed and swords answered and Erik was
suddenly swinging with all his might at a man wearing a
full helm. He cleaved through the man's shield, his sword
cutting deep into the left arm, then he was dodging a
counterthrust as the man fell forward. Roo stepped
behind him and took the attacker under the sword arm,
killing him before he hit the ground.
Erik spun to his left and struck at another, while Roo
turned to face one running at him full force. The second
man leaped forward, smashing shield against shield,
knocking the smaller Roo backwards.
In the hollow of the square, de Loungville, Greylock,
and three other men formed a flying company, ready to
Plug any breech. De Loungville stepped forward and

quickly killed the man on top of Roo, yanking him off
and shouting, 'Get back in line, Avery! You trying to
avoid work?'
Roo rolled to his feet and shook off his dizziness, then
half ran, half jumped back into place beside Erik. The
battle hung close, with neither side taking the advantage,
and Erik wondered how long he could keep this up, as
weak from hunger as he was.
Then a shout, quickly followed by another, and men at
the rear of the forward portion of the square saw
attackers falling, struck from behind by arrows. Calis
stood down the trail, quickly taking bead and letting fly,
and before they knew someone was behind them, four
attackers had fallen.
With the small pause on that one front, de Loungville
shouted, 'Charge them!' and led his five companions
toward the strongest section of the attack.
The attackers were expecting anything but a counterattack,
which threw them off balance. Seconds later, they
were running for their lives.
Erik chased two men down a narrow pathway, overtaking
one and striking him down from behind. The
other swung to face him, raising his sword high, and Erik
sought to take him with a quick thrust.
The man anticipated this, and Erik's head rang with
the shock of a shield bash to the face. Red lights exploded
in his vision and he staggered back, raising his shield in
reflex.
Hours of training saved his life as an instant later a
sword blow rang on the shield. Erik swung blindly, and
felt his own sword strike his opponent's shield. His vision
cleared in time to avoid another strike and the two men
backed away a step, acknowledging that, in the other,
each faced a dangerous opponent.
From somewhere behind, Erik heard de Loungville's
voice cut through the woods: 'I want a prisoner!'

480        RAYMOND E. FEIST                     SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN    48I

Erik tried to shout, and found his mouth didn't work.
He spat and felt a tooth wiggle. He tasted blood and felt
his right eye burning as it began to blur with the blood
running into it.
Gathering his wits, he shouted, 'Over here,'
The man facing him, a large weatherbeaten figure of
middle years, stood hesitating for a moment, then took
another step backwards. 'Over here!' Erik shouted again
as he attacked the man, rushing him. The man stood to
take the attack, but rather than strike an overhand blow,
Erik ducked, threw his shoulder behind his shield, and
bashed the man, hoping to knock him down.

The man staggered backwards, and Erik drew back his
blade, then danced backwards as the other swordsman
lashed out. Erik again yelled, 'Over here,' and drded to
his right, attempting to cut off any avenue of escape.
The man tensed and Erik made ready to counter a
blow, when suddenly the man let his sword fall from his
hand. He quickly tossed down his shield and took off his
helm, which he also threw to the ground.
Erik glanced behind and saw Calis drawing a bead on
the man. Erik breathed hard. 'Took you long enough.'
Calis looked at Erik and smiled slightly. 'It just seemed
like a long time.'

Once the man had surrendered, he was affable enough.
His name was Dawar, and he was originally from the city
of Hamsa, but for the last seven years a member of a
company called Nahoot's Grand Company.
Calis, de Loungville, and Greylock interviewed the
man while Nakor and Sho Pi tended the wounded. Erik's
wounds were superficial: a small cut to the forehead, a
cut lip, some loose teeth, and lots of bruises. Sho Pi gave
him some herbs to take and told him to sit with his hands
over his face doing reiki for at least a half hour, and he
might keep those teeth.

I

I

482        RAYMOND E. FEIST

He sat on a rock with his hands over his face, elbows
on knees, while others around him groaned in pain,
those able to do reiki on their own wounds or being cared
for by others.
Seventeen men had died in the battle; of the enemy,
twenty-four. When Calis had struck from their rear, they
had assumed another company was coming and it had
broken them, otherwise it would have been worse.
Dawar said that a hundred men had lain in wait.
Having spotted Calis passing the day before, a scout of
Nahoot's had backtracked, seen the company coming
down the trail above, and had returned in time for their
captain to organize the ambush.
'Nothing personal,' said Dawar. 'It was orders. We got
this trail and we was told to kill anyone comes this way.
It's that simple.'
'Who gave you the orders?' Erik heard Calis ask.
'Someone high up in the Queen's command. Maybe
Fadawah himself. I don't know. Nahoot's not about to go
around explaining everything, you see. He just tells us
what to do and we do it.'
Calis said, 'So they're keeping their flanks covered.'
'I guess. Things are pretty crazy and everyone's running
around like chickens in a thunderstorm. We don't
even know who's coming to relieve us.'
'When are they due to relieve you?' said de Loungville.
Erik felt the heat from his hands healing him,
otherwise he would loved to have removed them to see
what was happening.
'Don't really know,' said Dawar. 'A couple more days,
maybe a week. We've been out here almost,,a month, and
it's just about got the captain chewing his saddle.'
Calis said, 'Take him over there.'
Erik heard Dawar say, 'Captain, I'm wondering. Are
you giving me a day, or are you going to offer me service?'


SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 483

'Why?'asked Calis.
'Well, we're a hell of a long way from anywhere, that's
all. My horse is down at the end of this trail, along with
all my personals, and it's cold, as you may have noticed.
I'd just as soon not be running from your men come
sundown tomorrow.'

Calis said, 'Can we trust this one?'
It was Praji's voice Erik heard next. 'As much as you
can trust any of these mother-lovers. I know Nahoot by
reputation. He's not one of the worst, but he's certainly
far from one of the best.'
'You'd fight against your own companions?'
'Much as any of you would. Rules of war. I've been
given no bonus to die for lost causes.' His voice dropped
to a near mutter. 'Hell, Captain, none of us have been
paid in more than a month, and we're far from looting
anything, unless it's nuts from squirrels.'
There was a moment of silence before Calis said,
'Guide us to where your former company is, and we'll
give you your horse and turn you loose. No one will
follow you as long as you head for Palamds.'
'Sounds more than fair, Captain.'
Erik heard the man being led away, then he heard de
Loungville's voice, low but carrying. 'Are you mad?
There's still something like seventy or so swords down
there.'
'But they won't know we're coming at them,' said
Calis.
'Advantage of surprise?' said de Loungville, his tone
one of disbelief.
'It's the only advantage we've got, Bobby,' replied
Calis. 'We're out on our feet. We need rest and food.
There's food down there, and horses. if we can take that
company, we might even be able to get back to Maharta
without interference.'
'What are you thinking?' asked Greylock.

484

RAYMOND E. FEIST

Calis said, 'If things are as confused on this flank as he 
says, whoever comes to replace this Nahoot might not 
have any idea what he looks like. if we're waiting for 
them, in the agreed-upon place, wearing those green 
armbands . .                            
De Loungville groaned, and Erik was glad his hands 
covered his face, to hide the grimace he made.                             
Erik waited. Ahead, Calis, Sho Pi, Luis, and Jadow crept 
along, looking for the sentries they knew must be there.
Calis held up his hand, motioned to his right, then handed 
his bow to Jadow. He tapped Sho Pi on the shoulder and                     
pulled his dagger from his belt. Sho Pi laid his sword and 
shield on the ground, pulling his own knife. Luis had his 
out and Calis motioned for him to circle to the left. Calis
pointed to Jadow, indicating he was to wait.
The three men, Calis and Sho Pi to the right, Luis to the 
left, circled out of sight into the evening gloom.                         
Three moons were out, the middle moon high in the 
sky, and the large and small moons rising. Erik knew it was 
only going to get brighter as the night progressed, so that 
the time right now offered their best cover.
A sudden sound of movement, then a low grunt cut                          
through the night, and then silence. Erik waited for any 
sound of alarm, but none was forthcoming.
Then Calis was back, retrieving his bow and gesturing to 
the others to follow. Erik motioned to the line of men 
behind him and moved as silently as possible down the 
trail.                                   
A few yards beyond where Calis and the others had 
stopped he found the dead guard, eyes staring vacantly 
skyward. He gave the man a quick glance, then got his 
mind back to the matters at hand.       
His nose still hurt, but it was only a dull throb, and his                
lips were now puffy. His teeth wiggled when he touched 
them with his tongue, so he tried not to, but found himself 
constantly probing the loosened teeth. They had rested
less than an hour, then Calis had abandoned the dead
and left the wounded behind, and had ordered Dawar to
show him where his former company's camp lay. Two of
the walking wounded now guarded him back up the trail
until after the coming fight.
Ahead they saw lights, and Erik wondered how many
men there were to be so confident just hours after fleeing
a battle. Then he could see movement and realized that
they were anxious down there, for at least ten men stood
watch around the camp.
But what astonished Erik the most was that no
defenses had been erected. There were twenty four-man
tents haphazardly scattered around the area, with a large
bonfire in the center. The sound of horses carried
through the night, and Erik judged a large picket line was
situated somewhere on the other side of the camp.
Erik watched Calis, who signaled for him to approach.
Erik moved to Calis's side, and the Captain whispered, 'I
want you to lead the first ten men behind you through
the trees over there.' He pointed to his right. 'Circle
around and get ready to hit them from the side.
'They're wary now, but after a few hours of nothing
happening, they're going to relax. They may think we're
running the other way or not coming down until morning.' 
He glanced at the sky. 'It's about four hours until
midnight. Once you're in place, be alert but relax. I'm not
going to hit them until most of them are asleep.'
De Loungville said, 'When you hear anything, come
running hard. Hit them as fast as you can and numbers
won't mean much. They'll be so confused they won't
know what's out here in the dark, but only if you act at
once.'
Erik nodded, and moved back in line. He tapped the
next ten men on the shoulder, starting with Roo, and
motioned for them to follow him. Natombi, the former

Keshian Legionary, grinned as they moved into the
woods.
Erik was as quiet as he could be, but he was certain at
any minute the alarm would sound. When he was approximately
one-third of the way around the camp, he
halted the men. A couple of sentries stood opposite their
position, barely visible through the trees, but obviously
more interested in talking to each other than in maintaining
vigilance. Erik hoped Calis was right.
He motioned for the men to sit, indicating they should
rest. He signaled Roo to take the first watch. Erik sat
down and put his hands back over his face. He felt the
warmth return to his hands and was glad he had been
taught this healing. He decided he would hate to lose
those teeth.

At the appointed time, Calis shouted and launched his
attack. The camp was slow to come around, as most of
the men were asleep.
As they moved to repel the assault from one front, Erik
and his ten men raced into their flank.
Erik was on a man coming from a tent before he had
his pants on. The man died before he could pull a sword.
Another was down before he could turn, then suddenly
one faced him, astonishment on his face. He shouted,
-they're behind us!'
Erik bashed as hard as he could with his sword and the
man went down screaming. Natombi shouted some
Keshian war cry, and Biggo let out a bellow to freeze the
blood.
Men were scrambling from their low tents and Erik
knocked several unconscious with the flat of his blade
before they could gather their wits.
Then before he knew it, men were throwing helms,
shields, and swords to the ground. De Loungville hurried
along, commanding the prisoners be taken to the fire.
Half-dressed, dazed, and dispirited, several of them
swore openly when they saw how few attackers had
routed them.
Erik glanced around, still suspecting treachery, but
found only defeated men looking around in amazement.
Of Calis's forty-three men, only thirty-seven had
been fit for this fight, and they had almost bloodlessly
captured nearly two times their own number.
Suddenly Erik felt like laughing. He tried to fight it,
but couldn't. He let out a chuckle at first, then started

laughing aloud. Then others in his company joined in,
and soon there were cheers as Calis's Crimson Eagles
had their first victory in a long time.
Calis moved through and said, 'Get Nahoot over
here.'
A man among the captives said, 'He's dead. You killed
him up the trail yesterday.'
'Why didn't Dawar tell us?' asked de Loungville.
'He didn't know, the bleeder. We carried Nahoot
down here, and he died at supper. Gut wound. Messy.'
'Who's leading'>'
'I guess I am,' said a man, stepping forward. 'Name's
Kelka.'
'You the sergeant?' asked de Loungville.
'No, the corporal. Sergeant got his head split, too.'
De Loungville said, 'Well, that partially explains why
there was nothing like a defense.'
'Beggin' your pardon, Captain,' said Kelka. 'Are you
going to offer us service?'
'Why?' asked Calis.
'Well, we haven't been paid in a while, and as we've
got no captain and no sergeant ... Hell, Captain, you
kicked hell out of us with only half our number. I figure
you've got to be better than anyone else we're likely to
run into if you give us the day's grace.'
'I'll think about it.'
'Captain, if you don't mind, you going to take our
tents?'
Calis shook his head. 'Get back over there. I'll tell you        TWENTY-TWO
what I'm going to do once I decide.'
Calis motioned for de Loungville and said, 'Get some            Infiltration
food into the men, and send someone up the trail to lead
the wounded and Dawar down here. I want everyone
here by noon tomorrow.' He motioned to the captives.
'We'll figure out what to do with them in the morning.'Calis whispered.
Erik sat down, feeling his legs shake. It had been a very                       
long day and he was exhausted, as he knew everyone                          
else in the company was.                   
Then de Loungville's voice cut through the air. 'What,                     

Who told anyone to rest? We've got a camp to make                           
ready!'                                   
Men began to groan as de Loungville ordered, 'I want a
trench and breastwork dug, and I want stakes sharpened.
Bring in the horses and stake them nearby. I want a full                    
inventory of stores, and I want to know who's injured.                      
Then, after we've got this camp in shape, maybe I'll think                  
about letting you get some sleep.
Erik forced himself to stand, and as he moved, he                               
wondered aloud, 'Where are we going to find shovels?'                       
De Loungville shouted back, 'Use your hands if you                         
have to, von Darkmoor,'                   
Erik couldn't hear the Captain's conversation, but he
saw Praji and Greylock nodding agreement.
The prisoners had been moved to a small wash, where
a handful of men could easily guard them. De Loungville
was interviewing them, against what plan of the
captain's Erik had no idea.
The traditional head start for the losers who surrendered
was a day before any hostilities would be resumed.
Usually, according to Praji, those who cleared out were
left alone, if they kept moving. Erik was lost in thought
when Roo approached.
'         'How are the horses?' asked Roo.
'They're a little scrawny; the grass is poor this time of
year and they've been kept too long in the same place.
But otherwise they're fine. If we move them a couple of
times over the next week, they should put some weight
on, especially if I can find a place to shelter them at night

from the wind. It's the cold takes weight off them as
much as anything else. Their heavy coats are starting to
come in, so they'll be all right.'
Roo said, 'What do you think the Captain has in
mind?'
Erik said, 'I don't really know. I find it strange he's
talking about heading down for Port Grief loud enough
so those prisoners can hear.'
Roo grinned. 'Not if that's where we want the Queen's
army to look for us. What next?'
'We've got plenty to do,' said Erik. 'And we'd better get
on it before de Lounville comes back. He finds us loafing
around and there'll be hell to pay.'
Roo groaned. 'I'm dying of hunger.'
Suddenly Erik realized he hadn't eaten except for a
quick mouthful the night before. 'Let's grab something,'
he said, and Roo's expression brightened. 'Then we'll get
back to work.' Roo's expression turned dark again, but he
followed his friend.
They had done a complete inventory the night before
and found that while Nahoot's men hadn't been paid in a
while, they certainly were well provisioned. Erik and Roo
made their way to the tent they shared with Luis and
Biggo - Sho Pi and Natombi had moved in with Nakor
and Jadow in another four-man tent - and found the
other two sleeping inside. Half a loaf of trail bread, baked
only a couple of days before, and a bowl of grain and nuts
were sitting by the entrance, so Erik sat, let out a sigh,
and picked up the bread. He tore it in half and gave a
hunk to Roo, and then scooped up a handful of grain and
nuts and started to eat.
The air was chilly, but the sun warm, and after eating,
Erik felt drowsy. Looking at Luis and Biggo, he felt the
urge to follow their example, but fought it off. There was
still work to be done and he knew de Loungville would
make it harder on them if he had to tell them.
Erik got up and woke Luis and Biggo. They saw Roo
and Erik, and Biggo said, 'It had better be good.'
'It is,' whispered Erik. 'Come with me.'
Luis looked at Erik with eyes made even more
dangerous-looking by the dark circles underneath. As he
rose, Erik asked softly, 'Got your knives?'
Luis whispered, 'Always,' and whipped his dagger
from his belt in a motion so swift it was almost unseen.
'Are there some throats in need of cutting?'
Erik said, 'Follow me.'
He led them through the tents, moving quickly and
pausing often to look around, as if to see if they were
being observed. Erik moved to where the digging continued,
as men made the quickly dug trench of the night

before a deeper, wider barrier.
Reaching the work, he pointed to a stack of freshly cut
dowels laying in a bundle and said, 'Quickly, before they
get loose! Those need to be sharpened and placed around
the perimeter.'
Roo and Biggo smiled and picked up a piece each as
they pulled their belt knives, but Luis glowered. 'You
woke me for this?'
'Better I than de Loungville, isn't it?'
Luis stared hard at Erik a moment. For a second he
held his knife point directed at Erik, then with a grunt he
leaned over, picked up a dowel, and started to sharpen it.
Roo and Biggo laughed as Erik said, 'That's good. I'm
going to see that the horses are moved.'
As he left, he looked over his shoulder at the men
sharpening stakes. Anyone coming across that trench
would have a difficult climb over the rampart because of
the stakes; and once they broke camp, they could pack
them away.
Erik moved to the other side of the large defensive
square. He joined two men fashioning a drop gate out of
wood cut from nearby trees. The lack of proper tools was
making the job difficult, as they were basically having to
cut the timber with the one ax Nahoot's company had
carried, then trim the planks with knives and daggers.
Erik would have given the small amount of gold in his
purse for a proper drag plane and some iron working
tools.
Erik knew a little about woodwork, so he suggested
they carve some notches and dovetail the planks together
I   as best they could, then lash the whole thing with cord.
i   They could run it out when they needed from inside the
compound. They wouldn't be able to break it down and
carry it with them, as they had with the gate they had
built at Weanat - that one had been lost with most of
their other equipment outside the barrow up on the Plain
of Djams.
Erik wondered about crossing the plain. Even though
they were miles farther south than when they last
encountered the Gilani, he knew that to encounter the
diminutive warriors could spell the ruin of this mission.
At the last he decided there were too many things to
worry about, so he'd leave worrying to Calis and de
Loungville while he just did the work that needed to be
done.
After seeing the gate finished, he noticed the day was
rapidly approaching noon. He ordered a couple of fires
started and then decided to see if the watch had changed.
He found the same men on duty since he had passed
them at first light, so he went back into the tents and
kicked some protesting men awake, telling them it was
their turn on watch.
He was seeing that the mess was in order for the noon
meal when de Loungville returned from interrogating
Nahoot's men. De Loungville got off his mount and
asked, 'Is that parapet finished?'
Erik said, 'About two hours ago.'
'Stakes?'
'Being sharpened and placed now.'
'The gate?'
'In place.'
'Sally ramp?'
'It's being built - I doubt it will be much use, though;
more than a single horse at a time and it might fall apart.'
'Has anyone changed the watch?'
'I took care of that a few minutes ago.'
'Where's the Captain?'
'Up talking to Greylock, Praji, Vaja, and Hatonis.'
'Regular officer's country, eh?' asked de Loungville,
taking a cup from near the cook's fire. He dipped it into a
bubbling kettle, then blew on the contents before he
finally took a sip of hot soup.
Erik said, 'If you say so, Sergeant. I'm still new at this.'
De Loungville surprised him with a grin, then drank

his soup. Making a face, he said, 'This needs some salt.'
He tossed the cup down and stated walking away. 'If you
need me for anything, I'll be with the Captain.'
Erik turned to one of the men near the cookpot and
said, 'I wonder what that was about.'
The man was named Samuel. He had served with one
of the first groups taken from the gallows and had been
around de Loungville for a long time. 'Sergeant has his
reasons for doing what he's doing.'Then he paused. After
a moment he added, 'But it's the first real smile out of
him since Foster died, Corporal.'
Erik started to correct the man, as no one had named
him corporal officially, but then thought if it made the
men do what needed to be done that much quicker, he'd
be better served by keeping his mouth shut. He only
shrugged. As the food was almost ready, Erik decided it
was time to get the men rotating through the mess, so the
sentries could get a hot meal before the next watch.

Erik oversaw the distribution of horses to those men
given one day's grace before being hunted down. Calis
made an unusual offer to them: if they would ride directly
for the river Dee, to the south, then follow it to the
coast before making for either Chatisthan or Ispar, he
would send no one after them. He warned them that if
they followed him and his men to Port Grief, he would
kill every one of them. He also paid a small bonus in gold.
The men who were turned loose swore a mercenary's
oath to do as bidden and were now getting ready to ride
out of the camp.
What surprised Erik was that about twenty of Nahoot's
men were being offered a place in the company. They
were being kept apart from those trained by de Loungville
by being put under Greylock and they would ride
with Hatonis's clansmen, but having outsiders at this
late juncture was a risk Erik was not sure he would be
willing to take. Then again, he decided, that was probably
why Calis was the Prince's Eagle of Krondor and he was
only an acting corporal.
De Loungville came over and watched as Erik set up
the sixty men leaving. They were being given the least
desirable horses and knew it, but at least none of them
was lame. They were allowed to carry a week's worth of
rations and the gold Calis gave them, as well as their
weapons. All other baggage and stores were remaining
with Calis's company.
A half-dozen riders from Calis's company would
shadow the men for a half day, then return. When all
were mounted and ready, the order was given and the
defeated mercenaries and their escort rode out.
Erik watched them leave, then asked, 'Sergeant, why
are we taking on those extra men?'
De Loungville said, 'Captain's got his reasons. You just
keep an eye on them to see they do as they're told, and
don't worry why they're here. Just one thing: pass the
word that no one is to talk about our previous set-to with
the Saaur with those new men.'
Erik nodded and walked off to pass the word. When
he reached the center of the compound, he saw that
Greylock was passing out green armbands. Erik took one
and said, 'What is this?'
'As of this morning, we are now Nahoot's Grand Company.'
He motioned to where de Loungville was walking,
inspecting the stores they'd won. 'He's Nahoot. At least,
the men who've joined us say Bobby looks the most like
him of any of us here.'
Erik said, 'And Calis figures the Saaur might think we
all look alike anyway?'
Greylock grinned. 'Never thought you were stupid.
Glad to see I was right.' He put his hand on Erik's

shoulder and walked him away from the men gathering
to pick up their armbands. Lowering his voice, he said,
'Nahoot's due to be relieved in the next few days. At
least, that's what everyone thinks.'
'So if we can pass ourselves off, then we can walk
back into the Queen's camp and no one will look at us
twice.'
'Something like that. if those boys are to be believed,
things are even crazier down here than they were up
north of Lanada. There's a chance we might run into
someone who might remember us from up there, but
it's a slim one.'
Greylock looked around to see who was nearby, then
continued. 'Seems Nahoot's boys were sent to find us.'
'That a factor a guess?' asked Erik. '
'Guess, but probably a good one. The orders were to
ride out to this road and keep a lookout for any company
riding down out of the mountains that didn't have
armbands and didn't know the password. I don't know
who they were expecting to come down out of those
mountains except us.'
Erik said, 'You're right. I wouldn't bet against its being
us they were looking for.'
I Greylock shrugged. 'Maybe they're concerned we saw
something up in that maze of caves and galleries.'
Erik said, 'I saw enough to think it's not someplace
I'm in a hurry to visit again.'
Greylock grinned. 'How are the horses?'
'Good. We've moved them and they're fattening up
on fall grass. There's nothing here to ride that a noble
back home would lose sleep over not owning, but for
common mercenaries, they're a serviceable bunch.'
'Pick me out a good one,' Greylock said. 'I've got to get
back. We're setting new duty to get the new recruits out
of our hair and then we're going to wait.'
'Wait for what?'
'Replacements so we can head back to join in the
assault on Maharta.'
Erik shook his head. 'We've got a funny way of
fighting this war: helping the enemy take their objective.'
Greylock shrugged. 'Aside from the pain and dying,
war can be a pretty funny business, Erik. I've read every
written history of war I could get my hands on, and I
know this: once a plan of battle is set loose, it takes on a
life of its own. And once you make contact with the
enemy, the plan has little meaning anymore. It's grab
the moment so you can seize the day. Mostly it's hoping
the other side makes a mistake before you do and
getting lucky.
'Calis had a plan when we started out, but once he and
Nakor found what they sought out at the Queen's camp,
it's been tossed aside and now he's making it up as
we go.'
'So he's hoping the other side makes a mistake before
we do and that we're going to get lucky?'
'Something like that.'
'Then I'll say a prayer to Ruthia,' said Erik as Greylock
turned and walked away.
Erik thought about what he had seen so far and what
he had done, and was forced to concede that Greylock
was right. There was little of planning and cleverness in
what Calis had done since making contact with the
Queen's army, and a great deal of boldness and hoping
for luck.
Putting aside such weighty considerations, Erik decided
that as long as things were settling down to routine,
he'd try to get some work done on his armor and
weapons. He returned to his tent and found it empty, as
his three bunkmates were off working on finishing the
palisades. Erik unbuckled his sword, removed his helm,
and stripped off his breastplate. He grabbed a rag and
some oil he had liberated from stores and began to work
on his armor. He frowned when he saw how corrosion
was finding niches to take hold, and set to with a venge,
ance to expunge all imperfections from his breastplate.

'A rider came speeding over the rise, pushing his lathered
horse up the trail for all he was worth. Erik instantly
turned and shouted, 'Rider coming in,'
De Loungville had the men racing for weapons and
taking up positions before the rider reached the gate.
Recognizing the rider as one of their own, Erik motioned
for the bridge to be run out. The moat and rampart camp
had been turned into a first-rate base since Calis had run
off Nahoot's company. They had found a wandering herd
of bison down a ways in the woods, and some deer, as
well as a good supply of nuts. With the food liberated
from Nahoot's Grand Company, they were amply provisioned
for the time being.
As the rider reached the bridge he reined in, dismounting
as quickly as he could. He led the horse across the
bridge, which flexed and creaked alarmingly, but which
held better than Erik had expected. Shrinking the leather
had helped, and it would serve, but it still made him
nervous each time a horse was walked across.
The rider tossed the reins to Erik and ran past him to
where de Loungville and Calis were approaching. 'It's the
greenskins,' he shouted.
'Where?' asked de Loungville.
'Down the trail. It's a large patrol, maybe twenty of
them. They don't seem to be in any hurry.'
Calis thought for a moment. 'Tell the men to stand
down. I want us looking alert, but I don't want anything
suspicious.'
Erik passed the word as he led the rider's horse away.
He found Luis on duty around the picket and told him to
walk the horse for a while, to cool her out, then to rub
her down and feed her.
He returned in time to see men back at their normal
posts, but noticed that every man had a weapon close to
hand and many looked on edge. As he walked by, he
quietly said, 'Take it easy,' or 'Relax. You'll know soon
enough if there's going to be trouble.'
Still, it was a painfully slow twenty minutes until the
first of the Saaur hove into view. Erik studied them, for
he had been too busy staying alive the last time he saw
them mounted to study them carefully. Roo came to
stand beside him and said, 'That's some sight.'
'Say what you will about the greenskins, but they
know how to sit those impossible mounts of theirs.'
The Saaur rode with long legs and easy seats, as if they
had spent their lives on horseback. Each rider had a short
bow slung across the back of his saddle, and Erik said a
Silent prayer that the company they had faced before had
tried to charge them rather than stand off and shoot.
Most of them carried round shields, made of hide over
wood, marked with symbols alien to Erik. The leader
wore a plume of horsehair dyed blue tied up in a large
obsidian ring, affixed to a metal skullcap. The others
wore simple metal helms that had large flaring sides and
bar-nasals. When the last riders came into view, Erik
quickly counted. There were twenty of them, followed by
a baggage train of four more horses.
When they reached the camp, they halted and the
leader shouted, 'Where is Nahoot?'
His accent was thick and he tended to roar, but he
could be understood. De Loungville, wearing a helm that
covered his eyes, moved to the other side of the bridge.
'What is it?' he shouted.
'What have you to report?'
Calis had thought on this and had instructed every
man, save the new recruits from Nahoot's company, in
what was coming next. 'We were ambushed by some

men trying to come down this road. We routed them and
chased them back up into the mountains.'
'What!' roared the Saaur leader. 'You were told to send
a messenger if you found any of those trying to leave the
mountains.'
'We sent one!' shouted de Loungville, trying his best to
sound angry. 'Are you claiming he never reached you?'
'I claim nothing, human,' shouted the angry Saaur.
'When did this happen?'
'Less than a week ago!'
'A week!' The Saaur shouted something in his own
language and half his company started up the trail. The
leader said, 'We need provisions. You will leave and
return to the host. I am not pleased.'
'Well, you can bet I'm not pleased you went and lost
my runner,' shouted de Loungville. 'I'm going to make
sure General Fadawah hears of this!'
'And imps of the evening will come to have sex with
you because you are so lovely,' snapped back the officer.
Erik suddenly relaxed. if the Saaur was going to fight, he
wouldn't be trading insults with de Loungville while
dismounting. Whoever this officer was, he had accepted
that de Loungville was Nahoot and was content to trade
insults with him while the two companies changed
places.
'Any trouble with the Gilani?'
'No,' grunted the Saaur officer. 'Our riders have chased
the little hairy humans back into the mountains to the
north of here. The ride will be so quiet you may sleep in
the saddle.' He moved onto the bridge and his huge
horse's weight made it creak alarmingly, but it held even
if it did how under the load. He led his animal into camp
without noticing. Erik gave a silent prayer of thanks that
it held. And he was pleased he wasn't going to be around                   
to see if the bridge held after repeated Saaur use.                        
De Loungville shouted, 'Break camp! I want every man                      
mounted and ready to ride in ten minutes!'                                 
Erik hurried, for like every man there, he knew the                       
longer they were around the Saaur, the better the chance                    
someone would let something slip that would start a
fight. He hurried to his tent, with Roo beside him, and                    
found Biggo and Luis already setting about breaking                        
things down. 'Roo,' said Erik, 'grab my kit. I'm going to                  
keep an eye on Nahoot's men.'             
Roo spared Erik any barb about ducking work, and                          
said, 'I'll take care of it.'     
Erik moved to where the twenty men from Nahoot's
company waited and saw they were muttering among                           
themselves. Not giving them any chance to decide they                      
might be better off turning Calis in to the Saaur, he                      
shouted, 'Get over to those horses and start bringing                      
them up! I want the first six for the officers. Then start
bringing them up to the first tent, then the second, and                   
the third, until every other man has a mount. Then get                      
your own gear together and get mounted. Understood!'                       
His tone, as loud and ferocious as he could make it,                       
imparted the proper message: the last wasn't a question,                   
it was a command.                        
The twenty men moved quickly, several. saying, 'Yes,                      
Corporal,' as they half walked, half ran to the remounts.                  

De Loungville showed up less than a minute later and                       
said, '
Where are the newcomers?'         
Erik pointed. 'I've got them bringing up the horses for                   
the others, and I'll keep an eye on them.'                                 
De Loungville nodded. 'Good.' He turned without                           
another word and rejoined Calis and Greylock.                               
The Saaur commander was busy pulling a roll off the                       
back of one of the baggage horses, and Erik turned to                      
watch Nahoot's band. The twenty newcomers were                             
hurrying with the mounts, doing their best to remain
orderly, while around them the compound was abuzz
with activity. Erik hurried to where his three tentmates
were breaking down their equipment, and Roo threw
him his bundle. 'Did yours first,' he said.
Erik smiled and said, 'Thanks,' as he grabbed his
saddle and then ran back to where the newcomers were
leading horses. He selected one and quickly tacked it
up, then stowed his roll behind the saddle and
mounted.
He rode briskly at a trot down the line, as the compound 
seemed to melt away. Tents were folded, some merely
forced into the small packs that carried them,
and stacked up to be tied on the back of a baggage
animal. The palisades had already been cleared of stakes,
which were now being stored away' on a baggage horse.
Men were in their saddles and getting in line before the
last of the horses were brought up by Nahoot's men.
The only things they were leaving behind for the Saaur
were the moat, the bridge and gate, and some cookfires.
Erik watched as the Saaur camp went up. Ten large
circular tents, fashioned from what looked like cane or
wooden poles bent over into a semicircle, and covered
with hide, were erected. They were so small that he
wondered how the Saaur managed to get inside. He
elected not to ask to see, and turned his attention to the
last men.
The newcomers were ragged in getting themselves organized
, but at last they were ready to ride. Erik moved
aside as Calis gave the order to leave, and watched as the
men rode past him. He also watched the Saaur commanDer 
keeping his eye on the departing humans.
There was something in those red and white eyes that
seemed suspicious - at least, Erik thought that the case,
but then suddenly the commander waved good-bye. Erik
found his own hand raised in a parting gesture before he

thought better of it. He turned his mount and took his
place as last in line.
As he passed over the bridge they were leaving behind
for the Saaur, he thought, 'How odd. Like old friends
bidding each other good journey.'

They passed down from the foothills overlooking the
Plain of Djams, entering grasslands patrolled by Saaur
companies. Whatever else might have occupied the invaders,
a company of mercenaries wearing emerald
armbands riding calmly toward the heart of the army
wasn't a cause for concern.
Several times they passed camps or signs of camps.
Calis judged the Saaur and their allies were still sweeping
the area regularly, perhaps to keep the Gilani at bay, or
perhaps to guard against others seeking to hinder the
southern conquest.
They rode for a week without incident until they came
to their first major staging point, a motte-and-bailey
construction large enough to house several hundred men
and horses. A lookout in the tower high atop the
motte called down and there was a squad of Saaur waiting
for them at a checkpoint a hundred yards before the
gate.
Without preamble, the lead Saaur shouted, 'Orders?'
'We're to rejoin the host,' said Calis evenly.
'What company?'
'Nahoot's Grand Company,' answered de Loungville.
The lead Saaur fixed de Loungville with a steady gaze
and said, 'You look different.'
Keeping his voice rough, de Loungville said, 'You
spend your evenings sitting up in those bloody damn hills
chilling your backside for a while and see how different
you look.'
The Saaur tensed, as if this wasn't the answer he
expected, but Dawar, one of the men from Nahoot's
company, said, 'Let us get by, Murtag. We don't have
time for your games.'
The Saaur turned and said, 'You I know, Dawar. I
should cleave you both for your bad manners.'
Dawar said, 'Then who would you have left to cheat at
knucklebones?'
There was a long silence, -then suddenly the Saaur
named Murtag let out a bray that sounded like a leather

thong being drawn through a drumhead. He said, 'Pass,
whoreson, but you must camp outside the moat. We are
crowded inside. When you come to game tonight, bring
plenty of gold.'
After they had ridden away from the checkpoint, Erik
urged his horse up to Dawar's side and said, 'What was
that noise?'
The mercenary shook his head and said, 'That's their
idea of laughter, if you can believe it. Murtag's a bully of
sorts, but it's all bluster. Oh, he could cut you in two if he
had a mind, but he'd rather have you trembling and
pissing your pants, or insulting him back. It's the indifferent
ones that get on his nerves. I've gambled with him
enough to know. After he's had some drink, he's pretty
good company, for a lizard. Knows some funny stories.'
Erik smiled. 'You've earned a bonus.'
A calculating look crossed Dawar's face. 'You and me
should talk later, Corporal.'
'After the horses are bedded,' answered Erik.
Erik made his way quickly to where de Loungville and
Calis rode, leaning over in his saddle so he could speak
quietly to de Loungville. 'I told Dawar he earned a
bonus.'
De Loungville said, 'Then you can pay it.'
Calis motioned for the company to fan out on the east
side of the moat, near another company of men, who
ignored their arrival. He turned his horse around and
said, 'What is it?'
'Young von Darkmoor here is giving away your money.'                  
Erik explained and Calis said, 'What's troubling you?                    
'He was too quick and easy to bluff us past the Saaur. 
I don't trust him. I remember he was pretty quick to end the                
fight, as well, almost. .              
'As if he wanted to be captured?' finished Calis.
De Loungville grinned, and Erik said, 'What is it?'
'Those twenty we kept with us. Erik,' answered Calis,                   
'aren't the men we felt most able to trust.'                              
De Loungville said, 'They're the ones we most need to                   
keep an eye on.'                       
Erik sat back in his saddle and stared open-mouthed for                  
a moment, then shook his head. 'I'm an idiot.'                            
'No,' said Calis, 'but you've a lot to learn about the less             
obvious side of warcraft. The twenty men we kept all had                 
answers that came a bit too fast and easy for mercenaries. I             
think this Emerald Queen has agents sprinkled                            
throughout her army. All twenty aren't agents, I'm sure.                 
but I'm almost certain one or two are, maybe more. So we                 
keep the most likely close by.'                                           
'Trusting bunch,' offered de Loungville. 'Now, look.                     
You and a couple of men you trust, say Biggo and Jadow,                  
keep close to those men, don't let too many of them off                   
duty at any one time, and keep an eye on where they                       
wander. if any of them head into that fortress, I want one               
of you along.' He reached inside his tunic and pulled out                 
a heavy purse. 'We lost some gold on the baggage train,                  
but I kept most of it.' He opened the pouch and handed a                 
dozen small coins to Erik. 'Pass some of this around so                  
that if any one of those twenty lads wants to step into the               
fort for a drink, you'll be the fellow to buy it for them.               
Understand?'                           
Erik nodded. 'I'll make sure no more than four of them                  
are free to cause trouble at a time.' He turned his horse,               
put heels to its flanks, and rode back down toward the end               
of the line.                 
Calis said, 'He's rounding out nicely.'
De Loungville said, 'Aw, he's still not nearly half mean
enough, but I'll fix that.'
Calis smiled slightly and turned back to oversee the
making of the camp.

Erik walked the perimeter of the camp, keeping an eye
out for anything out of the ordinary. With the fortress at
their back, Calis had ordered no rampart and trench dug.
The men set up their tents quickly and saw to their
stores. and began to settle in for the night.
As he moved along, Erik noticed that the eight men
from Nahoot's company that he had put to guarding the
remounts     were at their posts, talking in pairs, but
otherwise    where they should be. Four others were
bedded down, or at least had been ten minutes before
when he had passed their tent. Jadow was watching that
group. Four others were working commissary duty. That
left four unaccounted for,  and if Biggo was doing as
ordered, he was close to them.
Erik found Roo in his tent, trying to get some sleep. 'I
thought you had duty?' said Erik, sitting down to pull off
his boots.
' I traded with Luis. He wanted to go into the fortress
and see if there were any whores.'
The thought of women suddenly had Erik interested,
so he stopped pulling off his boots. 'Maybe I should
check up.'
Rolling over. Roo said sleepily, 'You do that.'
Erik quickly made his way to Calis's command tent.
where he found    Calis and de Loungville talking with
Greylock, who had somehow found a pipe and tabac.
Erik found the habit noxious, but had put up with it all
his life; smoking was common enough in the taproom at
the Inn of the Pintail. though it was discouraged when

serious wine tasting was under way. For a moment, Erik
wondered what had become of the fancy flint and steel 
lighter he had possessed back home.

'What?'asked de Loungville.
'I'm going into the fort,' said Erik, 'if that's all right. Luis 
is in there, and I think Biggo is there, too.
De Loungville nodded. 'Keep alert,' he said with a                      
dismissive wave.                                                          
Erik walked up the damp hillock upon which the fortress 
had been erected, and made his way along the perimeter 
until he reached the gate. It was still open and the                  
guards on duty were almost asleep. A pair of Saaur, one                   
wearing what Erik took to be an officer's mark on his
breastplate, were talking inside a hut at the gate, but they                
ignored him as he walked in-            
De Loungville had called the fort a 'classic' motte-and-                 
bailey, and Erik was fascinated by its construction. An                   
earthen hill had been raised up and a tower built high                    
upon it. Around this hill and tower, a large open area, the               
bailey, had been left, with the buildings nestled against                 
the wall, sheltered by it. Suddenly it struck Erik that this              
is the sort of construction Calis had undertaken at Weanat,               
but on a much more modest scale. This tower could house                     
a half-dozen bowmen with little discomfort, on a platform                 
thirty feet above the ground. A fifteen-foot-high log wall                
had been erected around a small village. complete with                    
wooden rampart and earthen reinforcement. An army                        
would have little trouble with such a fortress, but most                    
single companies would have had more than enough                          
trouble to take such a fortification.   
inside there were a half-dozen buildings, all made of                    
wood and covered with daub made from dried mud and                        
straw. Smaller wattle-and-daub huts had sprung up                         
around the larger buildings, and a fair-sized town had                    
evolved. Erik could see why the Saaur at the gate had                     
ordered them to remain outside; it was quite close inside                  
this fortress.                          
He heard laughing and MOVed toward what he assumed 
would be an inn, and once inside he knew he
had been correct. The room was dingy with smoke andpoor light, but the stench of ale, spilled wine, and
'human perspiration struck Erik like a blow. Suddenly he
was terribly homesick and wished to be nowhere so
much as back at the inn of the Pintail. He pushed down
the sudden surge of feeling and made his way to the
bar.
The barkeep, a stout man with a florid complexion,
said, 'What'll it be?'
'Got any good wine?' asked Erik.
The man raised an eyebrow - everyone else seemed
to be drinking ale or fortified spirits - but he nodded
and produced a dark bottle from beneath the counter.
The cork was intact, so Erik hoped the bottle was fresh
and not resealed. Old wine tasted like vinegar mixed
with raisins, but you couldn't convince the average
tavern keeper he couldn't just stick the cork back in at
the end of a day and unscal it again the next and not
have his customers complain.
The barman produced a cup and poured. Erik sipped.
The wine was sweeter than he would have liked, but
not as cloying as the dessert wines made to the north of
Yabon. Still, it was acceptable and he paid and indicated
the barkeep should leave the bottle.
He glanced around the room and saw Biggo on the far
side, trying to look inconspicuous and failing mightily.
He leaned against the wall, behind a table where five
men gamed with two Saaur. The lizard men were too
large for their chairs, but they hunkered down as best
they could and seemed intent upon the game. Erik
recognized the sound of knucklebones, as they called
dice here, rattling across the table and the accompanying 
shouts of the winners and groans of the
losers.

After a few minutes, Dawar stood up and left the
game. He came over to Erik and said, 'Got a minute?'
Erik motioned to the barkeep for another cup and
filled it. Dawar sipped and made a face. 'Nothing like
the wine from the grand vineyards of home, is it?' he
said.
'Where's home?' asked Erik.
Dawar said, 'Far from here. Let's go outside for a
minute.'
Erik picked up the bottle and let Dawar lead him outside
into the fresh, cold night air. The man looked one
way, then the other, and signaled for Erik to follow him
around the corner, into a dark place next to the wall,
sheltered above by the palisades.
'Look, Corporal,' began Dawar. 'Let's have an end to
the mummery. You're the company Nahoot was sent to
keep from coming this way.'
'What makes you think that?' said Erik. 'You're the
ones that jumped us.'
'I wasn't born this morning,' said the man with a grin.
'I know your Captain's not your Captain, but the
slender blond fellow is.'
'What do you want?'
'A way to get rich,' said Dawar, a greedy glint in his
eye.
'How do you propose to do that?' said Erik, moving
his hand slowly down to his sword.
'Look, I could maybe get myself a gold coin or two for
telling Murtag you're not who you say you are, but
that's a gold coin or two, and then I'm back looking for
a company to join.' He glanced around. 'But I don't like
what I'm seeing lately, with this grand conquest. Too
many men dying for too little gold. There's not going to
be much left of use to anyone if it keeps on, don't you
see? So I'm thinking I might be a help to you and your
captain, but I'll want more than wages and found.'
'You'll get ample chance for loot when we take
Maharta,'Erik said noncommittally.
Dawar took a step forward, lowering his voice. 'How
long do you think you can keep this up? You lot are not

like any company I've seen, and I've been around more
than most. You talk funny and you have the look of ...
I don't know ... some sort of soldiers, without the
parade ground nonsense, but tough, like mercenaries.
But whatever you are, you're not what you want people
to think you are, and it ought to be worth something for
me to stay quiet.'
'So that's why you covered for us at the gate?'
'Sure. Most of us look alike to the Saaur and Murtag's
pretty stupid - don't make that mistake about most
Saaur - which is why he's stuck out here running this
garrison and not with the main host. I figure I can turn
you in any time, but I thought I'd first give you a
chance to make me a better offer.'
'I don't know,' Erik said. holding his wine cup to his
lips with his left hand, while his right moved to the hilt
of his sword.
'Look, von Darkmoor, I'll stick with you until the end,
if the pay's right. Now, why don't you talk this over
with Captain Calis -'
Suddenly a figure loomed up behind Dawar in the
darkness, and large hands reached around and gripped
him by the shoulders. They jerked him around, and as
he spun, they grabbed the back of his head and his chin
and forced it in the opposite direction, and with a loud
crack, his neck was broken.
Erik had his sword out as Biggo stepped forward. 'We
found a spy,' he whispered.
'How could you be sure?' hissed Erik, his heart
pounding as he returned his sword to the scabbard.
'
I'm pretty sure no one's called you von Darkmoor
since we met up with this lot, but I damn well know no
man's called the Captain by name since then.' Erik
nodded. Strict orders had been passed not to mention
Calis by name. 'How would he know who you were?'
Erik's heart sank. 'I didn't even notice.'
Biggo grinned in the faint light. 'I won't tell.' He
picked up Dawar's body and hoisted it across his
shoulder.
'What are we going to do with him?' asked Erik.
'Why, we're going to take him back to the camp. It
wouldn't be the first drunk carried out of here by his
friends, I'm certain.'
Erik nodded, picked up the fallen wine cups and
bottles, and motioned for Biggo to leave. Erik set the
cups and empty bottle down next to the door and
hurried after the large man.
For a tense moment Erik expected a challenge at the
gate, but as Biggo had predicted, the guards thought
nothing of one drunk cheerfully carrying another back
to the camp.

They rode out at first light. Erik had told de Loungville
and Calis of the encounter with Dawar. They had disposed
of the body down in a wash, not too far from
their campsite, making sure it was fully hidden by rocks.
There had been a brief discussion after that and Calis
had said whatever they chose to do, they'd do it far
from the Saaur and the other mercenaries.
The only attention they received as they got ready to
depart was one Saaur warrior who came down to ask
what they were doing. De Loungville merely repeated
they had been ordered to rejoin the host and the warrior
grunted and returned to the fortress.
As Calis had suggested, this fortress was as much for
keeping deserters from heading south as it was to keep
the main army's flanks free from attack.

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 5II

At noon, while the men rested and ate trail rations,
Calis told Erik to get five of the men from Nahoot's
company and bring them over to where he waited with
de Loungville. When they appeared, Calis said, 'One of
your companions, Dawar, got into a fight last night over
a whore. Got his neck broken. I don't want to see any

repeat of that stupidity.'
All five men looked baffled, but nodded and left.
Another group of five was brought up to Calis, then
another. At last the final four men were fetched to Calis
and he repeated the admonishment. Three of the men
looked blank, but one of them tensed at news of
Dawar's death and instantly Calis had his dagger out at
the man's throat.
De Loungville said, 'Take them away,' to Erik as he
and Calis, with Greylock, led the man away to be questioned.

As Erik escorted the two men back down the line,
several of the men asked what was going on. Erik said,
'We caught another spy.'
A moment later a scream cut through the air, from
behind a small rise some distance away. Erik looked
over while the scream lingered, and when it ceased, he
let out his breath.
Then it started up again, and Erik found every man
looking off at the ridge. A few minutes later, de
Loungville, Calis, and Greylock returned, all with grim
expressions. De Loungville looked around and quietly
said, 'Get them mounted, Erik. We have a lot of ground
to cover and little time to do it.'
Erik turned. 'You heard the sergeant, Mount
up,'
Men scrambled and Erik found the sudden
motion a release. The sound of the spy dying under
torture had set his nerves on edge and made him
angry. The sudden movement seemed to lift that anger

l~

I

i

I

5I2

RAYMOND E. FEIST

from him, or at least give him a place to focus it.
Soon the column was moving, heading toward the
main army of the Saaur and the assault on Maharta.

f

T
TWENTY-THREE

Onslaught

Erik blinked.
Acrid smoke filled the air for miles, making it. difficult
to see any distance. Stinging wind carried the smell of
charred wood and other less aromatic victims of the
widespread fires.
Nakor rode back to where Erik brought up the rear.
'Bad. Very bad,' he commented.
Erik said, 'I haven't seen a lot that wasn't bad in the
last week.'
They had been traveling for more than four weeks,
heading across the plain toward the host surrounding
Maharta. As they approached the site of battle, the area
began to teem with all manner of passersby: patrols from
the invading host, small companies of mercenaries who
had decided to quit the city rather than fight - they
tended to give Calis's company a wide berth, though two
had chanced a parley. When it was clear that Calis wasn't
interested in a fight, both companies had agreed to share
a camp, and news.
The news was sobering. Lanada had fallen by
treachery. No one was certain how, but someone had
managed to convince the Priest-King to send his host
north, leaving the city under the care of only a small
company. The leader of that company had proved to be
an agent for the Emerald Queen, and he had opened the
gates of the city to a host of Saaur riding in from the
southwest. The population had gone to sleep one night
after a grand parade. The Priest-King's war elephants,

II

5I4

RAYMOND E. FEIST

with their razor-capped tusks and iron spikes ringing
their legs, had lumbered out the gate, the howdahs
on their backs filled with archers ready to rain death
down on the invaders. At their side had marched the
Royal Immortals, the Raj of Maharta's private army of
drug-induced maniacs, each man capable of feats of
strength and bravery no sane man could achieve. The
Immortals had been promised great glory and a better
life when reborn if they died in the service of the Raj.
The next morning the city was in the hands of the
Saaur and the populace awoke to the sounds of wailing
as the invaders turned each household out, herding
everyone, to the last man, woman, and child, to the
central plaza, to hear the Priest-King. He had been
marched out under guard and had informed the citizenry
that they were now subject to the rule of the
Emerald Queen. He and his cadre of priests were taken
back into the palace and never heard from again.
The host of Lanada that had been sent north to face
an army already behind them returned under orders
from the Priest-King's General of the Army, who
handed over command to General Fadawah, then
joined his lord in the palace. Rumors flew through the
city, ranging from the Priest-King, his ministers and
generals being quickly executed to them being eaten by
the Saaur.
One thing was clear, this conquest was coming to a
head. With Lanada's downfall a near certainty, General
Fadawah had held back a token force at his position
north of the city and sent the entire bulk of the host in a
circling move around Lanada and down the far side of
the river to Maharta. They had moved out only days
after Calis's company had deserted.
The benefit to the Queen's army had been a swift
strike south with almost no opposition. The detriment
had been finding themselves on the wrong side of the

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 5I5

river. Now the northern element from lanada was
moving down the main road between the two cities
while engineers were throwing temporary bridges across
the river some miles north of the mouth.
Erik looked at the blackened landscape; some locals
had fired the dry winter grass to avoid being captured by

the Saaur, he judged, for the brush fires had been
started in several places. Only a cold rain had prevented
a major conflagration on the plain.
Erik reflected on the cold weather and realized it was
after midsummer back home. By the time they left
Maharta, if they left Maharta, it would be nearly a year
since he had fled Darkmoor.
One benefit to Calis's company from the swift
mobilization of Fadawah's host southward was that
most of the invading army was in the grip of turmoil
and confusion. Moving closer to the front was surprisingly
easy.
A day earlier an officer had tried to demand passes
from Calis, who had said simply, 'Nobody gave us anything
on paper. We were told to move to the front.'
The officer had been totally baffled and simply waved
them past the checkpoint.
Now they were at the crest of a rise overlooking the
river valley below, where the Vedra emptied into the
Blue Sea. Erik squinted at the scene below.
Maharta was a city of white stone and plaster, bright
in the summer sun, now reduced to grey by weeks of
falling ash. it spread across two main islands, while several
suburbs had arisen on smaller islands in the delta.
The main city was surrounded by a high wall on the
northwest, north, and northeast, while the remaining
sections were flanked by river, harbor, or sea. Several
estuaries and inlets provided a variety of anchorages in
the deep channel of the river as well as along the coast.
Sprinkled across numerous islands were villages, aild on

l~

5I6        RAYMOND E. FEIST

the western shore of the river, a large suburb with its
own wall.
Nakor peered at the distant city. 'Things move close to
a finish.'
'How can you tell?' asked Erik.
Nakor shrugged. 'See the garrison on this side?'
Erik shook his head. 'No. There's too much smoke.'
Nakor pointed. 'Look, there, at the river and sea,
where they join in the delta. There were many bridges
there - you can see blackened foundations where they
were burned - and some villages on the smaller islands,
but there, on this shore, there's a good-sized town, with
its own wall.'
Erik squinted against the smoke and fading sunlight
and saw a spot of light grey against the darker water.
Studying it, he thought it might be a walled town, but he
couldn't be certain. 'I think I see it.'
'That is the western precinct of Maharta. it is still
holding.'
Erik said, 'Your eyes must be as sharp as the Captain's.'
'Maybe, but I think it's that I know what to look for.'
'What are we going to do?' asked Erik.
'I don't know,' said Nakor. 'I think Calis knows, but
then, maybe he doesn't. I do know that we need to be
over there.' He pointed at the far side of the river.
Erik looked at the massive host marshaled along the
riverbank and said, 'That seems to he everyone's problem,
Nakor.'
'What?'
'Being over there.' Erik pointed northward and said,
'They say there are bridges being built ten miles north of
here. If so, why is everyone marshaled down here near
the coast? They can't be thinking of swimming across,
can they?'
'Difficult swim,' Nakor admitted. 'Doubt that's, what
they're going to do. But I expect they have a plan.'

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN  5I7

'A plan,' Erik said, shaking his head dubiously as he
remembered what Greylock had told him about battle
plans and the realities of war. He sighed. 'All we have to
do is go through this army, cross the river, and get the
defenders to open the gate for us.'
- 'There's always away,' said the little man with a grin.
Erik again shook his head in uncertainty as the order
to move down into the waiting host was given, and

suddenly he felt very much like a mouse invading a
cat's lair.

If the outlying fringes of the host were confused, the
heart of the army was strictly under control. Calis
noticed several heavily manned checkpoints and veered
away from them, and twice had to improvise explanations
for provost officers riding patrol. He claimed to
be confused about which campsite he needed to locate,
and said he was among those who were going to be first
across.
Both times the officers assumed that no one would be
lying to be the first across the river, so in both cases they
merely waved Calis along. But as they skirted around
the central position of the army, they got some sense of
how things lay.
A large hill was central to the host, with the Queen's
pavilion atop it. Around that tent were the officers' tents
and rank upon rank of Saaur guard, with Pantathian
combat troops arrayed behind them. Then came a series
of tents used by Pantathian priests. The air was so thick
with their magic it reeked, claimed Nakor. Then the
bulk of the army radiated outward like spokes of a
wheel.
De Loungville said, 'It's a pity there's not another
army lurking about in the grass nearby. These lads are
so bound to conquer there's nothing remotely defensive
about this place.'

l~

5I8        RAYMOND E. FEIST

Erik knew little of warcraft, but after months of working
hard to create defensible encampments, even he
could see this: there were major flaws in the disposition
of this army. 'They must be planning on launching the
attack soon ' 'he observed.
'Why do you say that?' asked Calis.
'Greylock, what's that word you told me, for supply?'
'Logistics.'
'That's the one. The logistics are all wrong. Look at
where they've got their horses. Each company has them
picketed nearby, but there's no easy way to get water to
them from the river. This is going to be a mess in a day
or two.'
Calis nodded, but said nothing, as he looked around.
De Loungville said, 'You're right. This host can't stay
here another week without a major blowup. Either men
are going to get sick, start fighting, or run out of food
and-have to eat their horses. They can't stay here much
longer.'
Calis said, 'There,' as he pointed.
Erik looked to see a narrow peninsula of sandy
ground, near the river's edge, sheltered by tall grasses.
They rode down a long incline, through some rocky
gullies carved out by rain, and down to a sandy stretch,
then back up a small rise, and at last reached the indicated
area.
Erik jumped from his horse and knelt near the water's
edge. He cupped some in his hand and found it brackish
and salty. 'They can't drink this.'
'I know,' said Calis. 'Form a team and haul water
down from upriver to give the horses something to
drink.' Looking around as the sun began to set, he said,
'We're not staying here very long.'

Camp was quickly made and Erik saw to it that the
eighteen remaining men from Nahoot's company were

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN  5I9

always under surveillance. They were not certain exactly
what had happened to Dawar and the other man, but
they knew it had been fatal and it was clear they didn't
wish to meet a similar fate. De Loungville had remarked
there might be another agent among them, but if there
was, Erik was forced to concede he was far more clever at
disguising his nature, for not one of those men tried
anything suspicious. Still, Erik billeted them closest to the

river, with his own men and the horses on one side of
them and the river on the other.
Roo came and found Erik as he was checking to see the
horses were fit. 'Captain wants you over there.' He
pointed to where Calis stood with de Loungville, Nakor,
Greylock, and Hatonis.
Reaching the mound on which they stood, Erik heard
Nakor saying, three times. I think there is something
strange here.'
Calis said. 'That's a well-defended position
'No,' interrupted Nakor. 'Look closely. The walls are
good, yes, but there is no way to bring in reinforcements,
yet the man said they were facing fresh soldiers every
time they assaulted the walls. Three times in one day.'
De Loungville said, 'Camp gossip.'
'Maybe,' said Nakor. 'Maybe not. If true, then there is a
way from that place' - he pointed toward the small
western precinct of the city on this side of the river - 'to
over there.' He then pointed to the distant lights of
Maharta. 'It might be why they tried so hard to take it last
week. If not for a way in, why not leave it and let them
starve?'
De Loungville scratched his chin. 'Maybe they don't
want trouble at their back.'
'Bah!' said Nakor. 'Does this army look like it's worried
about trouble? This army is trouble. Trouble soon if they
don't get across that river. Soon there'll be no food..
Bad . . .'He turned to Erik. 'What was that word?'

520 RAYMOND E. FEIST
r" I I

Logistics.
'Bad logistics. Baggage train all strung out from here up
to Lanada. Men pissing into the river upstream, and soon
men downriver get belly flux and bad runs. Horse dung
everywhere up to your knees. Men don't get food, men
fight. It's simple. They take this precinct' - he made a
diving motion - 'and take tunnel under river, then U
p
into city.'
-there was that tunnel under the Serpent River
before,' conceded Calis.
Hatonis said, 'But there's lots of bedrock under the City
of the Serpent River. Our clans dug those tunnels over a
period of two hundred years because of the storms of
summer, the monsoons. You can't safely cross the bridges
when the seas are high and the wind is that strong.'
'They get big storms here in Maharta?' asked Nakor.
'Yes,' admitted the clansman. 'But I don't know what
the ground around here is like.'
'Doesn't matter,' said Nakor. 'A good builder, he'll find
a way.'
'Certainly a dwarf would know a way,' said Greylock.
Calis showed a small flash of irritation. 'Whatever. We
take a risk of getting killed no matter what we do. That's
not the point. It's wasteful getting killed to get into a city
that has no way out, and we don't know there is a way
out of the Western Prednct. We know that across the
river is Maharta, and we don't know if there's a tunnel
on this side.'
'What if I go and find one?' said Nakor.
Calis shook his head. 'I don't have any idea how you
plan on getting in there, but the answer is no. I want
every man ready to move out at midnight.
'Word's been passed there's some sort of celebration on
tonight. The Pantathians and Saaur are making some sort
of battle magic, then tomorrow the northern elements
are supposed to hit the city.'

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN  52I

Nakor scratched his head. 'There are some men building
bridges north of the main camp, but they are not
finished. Why this? And what tricks do the serpent men
have to get this army across that river? They've been
conjuring something all day long.'
'I don't know,' answered Calis, 'but I plan on every
man being on the other side when the sun's up.' He
turned to Erik. 'That's your job. Those men from

Nahoot's company.'
Suddenly Erik's stomach tightened. He knew what
Calis was about to say. 'Yes?'
'Put them around the horses and give them this to
drink.' He handed Erik a large wineskin that sloshed.
'Nakor's closed it so they'll be unconscious for a
while.'
Erik felt himself grin as he took the skin. 'For a
minute . . .'
'If Nakor hadn't given me this drug, I would have told
you to kill them,' Calis finished. 'Now see to it.'
Erik turned away, again chilled and, for a reason he
couldn't put any name to, feeling shame.

The camp rang with alien sounds, music from distant
lands, screams of joy and pain, and laughter, swearing,
and, most of all, drums.
Saaur warriors pounded on large wooden drums
stretched with hide. The sound echoed across the river
like thunder, and rang in the ears like the blood's own
pulse. Bloody rites had concluded and now warriors
readied themselves for the mornings battle.
Horns blared and bells rang, and on and on pounded
the drums.
Hatonis and his men stood near the horses, and Erik
quickly saw that all eighteen of Nahoot's men were unconscious.
He knew that had any avoided the drug's
effect he was to kill them.

l~

522        RAYMOND E. FEIST

Erik returned to Calis and reported, 'All eighteen are
truly asleep.'
Praji said, 'If they can sleep through that racket, they
are indeed senseless men.'
Calis stuck out his hand. 'Good-bye, old friends.'
First Praji, then Vaja, then Hatonis took it and shook.
They and the eight remaining men from their companies
would make their way up the river, trying to
position themselves to get across the river over one of
the northern bridges while the main band attacked. In
the confusion of battle they were going to try to slip
away and head east, making for the City of the Serpent
River. Whatever occurred in the coming days, eventually
the City of the Serpent River would have to face the
Emerald Queen's might. Hatonis would ready the clans;
once they had been nomads, like their cousins the
Jeshandi, and if need be, they would roam the hills near
the city again, striking at the host, then fleeing into the
high forests. For Hatonis knew that this struggle would
be settled far from his native city and more than mere
strength of arms was needed.
The night was dark, as swift clouds from the ocean
blew in to the shore, keeping the moons' light masked.
Only those of especially good vision might notice someone
moving along the river's edge from any distance
away.
Nakor sniffed the air. 'Rain coming, I think. Tomorrow,
almost certainly.'
Calis motioned and Erik turned and signaled the first
company into the water. The plan was simple: swim
across the swift-running but shallow delta to one of the
tiny islands near the city wall and look for a way to
climb the southern breakwater and slip along atop it
into the greater harbor. They would still strike for the
southernmost quarter of the harbor, the shipbuilders'
estuary. That small firth fed off the main river and

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 523

joined with the larger harbor, to form a natural launch
~t for ships. Calis had complete intelligence from
agents who had been on this continent for years, but he
knew little about the harbor beyond that. It had never
occurred to anyone else that the Emerald Queen might
need a navy until Roo brought it up.
After the burning of the shipbuilding facilities, the
plan was still simple: steal a boat and sail up the coast to

the City of the Serpent River. Erik thought, not for the
first time, that simple didn't mean easy.
The water was chilly, but Erik quickly got used to it.
The men had wrapped their swords, shields, and armor
for quiet, and some of the men had abandoned their
heavier arms so as to be able to swim better.
The path taken brought them perilously close to both
a picket of the Emerald Queen's host and lookouts in
the suburb fortification. Torches on the walls showed
clearly that the ruckus from the Queen's camp had
alerted the garrison that something was up. Erik hoped
they were all watching the fights on the top of the hill
and not the rocky shore below their walls.
Every man in the company was a competent swimmer.
Those that hadn't had the knack had been trained
at the camp outside of Krondor. But when they reached
the distant spot that marked their first meeting point, a
small sandy island in the mouth of the river, three men
were missing. A quick head count showed thirty-two
men on that island, exposed to view save for some tall
grass and one lone tree. Calis signaled back into the
water and Erik waited until everyone else was in before
taking one look around for the three missing men, then
he followed after the others.
The channel deepened and the current got stronger as
they neared the city, and the water tasted saltier. A
cough, sputter, and splash nearby were followed by a
choking sound, and Erik knew someone else was in

l~

524        RAYMOND E. FEIST

trouble. He swam toward the sound of splashing in the
darkness, but as he reached the spot only silence met
him. He glanced around in the gloom, then listened, and
finally started swimming toward the distant shore.
Suddenly he skinned his knee and found he was
clambering across an underwater islet. Then he was suddenly
sucked downward and pulled back into a deeper,
swifter current, and struggling to keep his head above
water.
His armor weighed him down and Erik had to will
himself to keep his head above water. He had trained
for hours to swim with his sword and shield on his back,
but nothing in training had prepared him for this nightmare
of laboring through a wet inky darkness.
His chest burned and his arms felt leaden and he had
to force himself to move forward. Lift one arm and
throw it forward, and kick, lift the other and kick. He
moved forward, with no idea how far he had come and
how far he had left to go.
Then he heard a change in the sound before him and
realized it was water lapping against rocks. More, he
heard men quietly coughing, cursing, and blowing
water from their noses. He lashed out with his last
vestige of strength and hit a rock face first.
Red light exploded behind Erik's eyes, then collapsed
into a ball that receded away from him in a tunnel of
inky blackness.

Erik choked, spewed water from his mouth and nose,
then vomited. He turned over and struck his head
against a large rock. Roo's voice sounded in his ear.
'Don't! You'll knock your wits out of your silly head

again. Lie still!'
Erik hurt. His body felt like one large cramp and he
had never felt so foul in his life. 'You drank a lot of
ocean,' said Biggo, nearby. 'If I hadn't been standing on

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN  525

the rock you swam into, I don't know if we'd have
found you to pull you out.'
'Thanks,' said Erik weakly. His ears rang, and his face
ached, and his nose hurt, and generally he wasn't certain
he was glad to be alive.
Calis came and said, 'Can you move?'
Erik stood, wobbly, and said, 'Of course.' As much as

he might like to sit for a while, he knew that the
alternative to moving was being left behind.
Erik looked around. Then his eyes narrowed and he
counted. Thirteen men stood on the rocks. Looking at
faces, he turned to Biggo and said, 'Luis?'
'Out there,' said Biggo, with an inclination of his head
toward the river.
'Sweet gods,' said Erik. Thirty-two men had gone into
the river, and only thirteen had made it across.
Sho Pi was nearby and he said, 'Perhaps some of them
are washed up at different places on the shore.'
Erik nodded. But he knew it was more likely they
were swept out to sea or drowned in the river.
Erik saw they were out on the tip of the southern
harbor breakwater, a long finger of rocks built up to
prevent tidal flow interfering with shipping in the
harbor. Calis motioned and each man fell into line. They
moved carefully along the heavy rocks piled high to
form the breakwater. In the darkness the footing was
dangerous. After about a half hour of moving slowly,
they reached a flat road formed across the top of the
stones. Nakor whispered, 'They must pack dirt on it so
they can bring more rocks out in wagons if they need to
repair the breakwater after a storm.'
Calis nodded and motioned for silence. He pointed to
a tiny light in the distance. There was a small building
located a few hundred yards ahead, where the stone
breakwater turned into a proper jetty. It was certain to
be defended.

526        RAYMOND E. FEIST

Glancing toward the harbor mouth, Erik felt his
stomach contract. 'Captain!' he whispered.
'I've seen,' came the answer.
Erik looked back and saw the others had followed his
gaze and were now looking at the harbor. Three ships
had been sunk in the harbor mouth, to ensure no
raiders from the invading fleet could enter the harbor;
and, nestled like chicks against a mother hen, a flotilla
of ships hugged the docks. But none of them looked to
be of shallow enough draft to get past the hulks blocking
the harbor.
The pair of guards in the watch building were
vigilantly watching across the river, so they were taken
without knowing that Calis had slipped up behind.
Using only his hands, Calis quickly disabled both men
and lowered them to the floor of the hut.
Motioning for the men to gather around, Calis said,
'The orders are simple.
'We wait until the sounds of battle in the morning.
The Emerald Queen may try to slip some small boats
around the jetty, so there may be a few defenders heading
this way, but most of the city's army will be on the
northern walls, protecting the landward side of the city.
Then we move straight up this jetty, head off left toward
the shipbuilders' estuary, and fire everything in sight. If
anyone tries to stop you, kill him.
'Then we head back to the main docks, steal a boat of
as shallow draft as we can find, and try to get out of this
mess. If you can't get back to the harbor, try to get out
of the city on the northeastern side, and make overland
to the City of the Serpent River.' He glanced from face
to face. 'It's every man for himself, lads. No one is to
linger for a comrade. if no one gets back to Krondor,
then this has all been for naught. if most of us are going
to die, let's make it worth something.'  I
Grim nods of agreement were the only reply he

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 527

received. The men took what shelter they could around
the small hut and waited.

Erik shivered. He dozed, but the throbbing in his head
made sleep impossible. He couldn't believe how tired he
felt. And the throbbing in his nose drained him like no
pain he had known before.
'It's broken,' said Roo.
'What?' said Erik, turning and discovering his friend
could be seen in the predawn gloom.

'Your nose. It's a mess. Want me to reset it?'
Erik knew he should say no, but he simply nodded.
Roo had been through enough street fights to know
what he was doing. Roo put his hands on either side of
Erik's nose and, with a swift move, pushed the pieces
into place.
The pain shot through Erik's head like hot iron spikes.
His eyes watered and he thought he would faint; then
suddenly the pain drained away. The throbbing that had
bothered him all night lessened, and he felt as if his face
might not fall off,~after all.
'Thanks,' he said, wiping away tears.
A loud roar precluded any reply. It was as if the skies
parted and a thousand dragons vented their rage. There
came a hollow rush of sound like creation's largest
waterfall echoing through a gorge, and a wind sprang
up from the far shore.
'Oh, my,' said Nakor. 'This is some trick!'
Across the river a giant light of brilliant white, edged
in pale green, sprang up and arched across the river,
slowly spreading and fanning out as it climbed into the
sky. Men and Saaur riders moved tentatively upon it,
then kicked their balky mounts forward. The horses
moved slowly, following the rising bridge of light.
Nakor said, 'Now we know why they massed near the
mouth of the river across from Maharta - why no

528        RAYMOND E. FEIST

bridges. They're using the priests' spells to get the army
across.'
Calis said, 'We leave now!'
He rose and moved down the jetty. They reached the
main dock area without incident, ignored by those on
the dock, who were transfixed by the sight of the rising
bridge in the sky across the river. Erik forced himself to
pay attention to his leader, and pushed more than one
man after Calis.
They ran through a series of narrow streets, along a
thin neck of land, between bodies of water. Erik had no
sense of where he was, but he thought he might find his
way back the way they had come.
Then they were moving left, down a major boulevard.
A company of horsemen dashed past, dressed in white
tunics and trousers, with red turbans and black vests.
Another man similarly dressed reined in next to Calis a
moment later and shouted, 'Where are you going?'
'We have our orders!' Calis shouted back. 'The estuary
is at risk!'
The man seemed confused by the answer, but the
incredible sight of a bridge of light rising across the river
unnerved him enough that he accepted Calis's story and
rode on.
They reached another street, which crossed the top of
the one they were on, and Erik halted. Ahead was a dry
dock. It loomed high into the sky, and upon it was the
keel of a great ship pulled up for hull scraping. The
wooden frame stretched back for what Erik judged a full
four hundred feet, and the rear of the ship protruded
out beyond that. He looked beyond it and saw the estuary,
a mighty lake adjacent to the main harbor. The
estuary was ringed by construction yards like this, forming
a nearly perfect three-quarter circle around it. Either
end was more than a quarter mile off.    f
De Loungville said, 'Take some men and go that way.'

. f

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN  529

He pointed off to the right. 'Go to the far end, and start
burning everything in sight as you come back. Try to get
back to the harbor. But remember, it's every man for
himself!' At the last, he reached out and put his hand on
Erik's arm and squeezed briefly, then he was off running
to the left.
Erik said, 'You three,' indicating Roo, Sho Pi, and
Nakor, the men nearest him, 'come with me.'

As e ran, his head thundered, and he tried to ignore
the pain. His knees were wobbly, but his heart pounded
and his nerves were taut, and after a few moments he
felt his head clear a bit.
Riders came speeding past, heading back the way
Erik's men had come. He barely got out of the way of
one man, who seemed willing to ride him down rather
than control his horse. The expression on the guard's
face told Erik this was no movement of soldiers under
orders, but men put to flight by terror.
Glancing skyward, Erik couldn't blame the men. The
bridge now reached a quarter of the way across the
river, and upon it stood thousands of Saaur, their battle
cries carrying across the distance like a thunder peal
without end.
Erik rounded a bend and saw two shipyards beyond
where he stood. To Sho Pi, the nearest man, he said,
'Get down there and fire everything. Nakor, help him.'
Erik grabbed Roo and moved to the hut before
another gigantic cradle of wood. This one was empty.
The door to the building was barred. He quickly made
his way around it and found a single window. Looking
in, he saw no signs of habitation. Using his shield, Erik
smashed the window, and said, 'Now put your size to
good use.' He boosted his small friend through the
window.
Roo hurried and opened the door and Erik said, 'Anything
to bum?'

530

RAYMOND E. FEIST

,Some parchment and a torch. Got any flint?'
Erik reached into his belt pouch and pulled out some
flint. Roo took it and his dagger and struck a spark on
the torch, then nursed a small fire into life.
When it was burning, he pushed it down into the pile
of parchment, until it caught; then they hurried out of
the hut. Erik led Roo down to the base of the cradle,
and saw a pile of old wood scraps. He gathered them by
the base and had Roo set them alight. They burned
slowly, with dark smoke, but at last a good-sized fire
was started.
Erik glanced around and saw a little smoke from the
far end of the estuary, but no sign of any major fires. He
motioned to Roo to come along and they made their
way to the next establishment, and found it guarded by
a shipbuilder and his family. Three men of middle years,
as well as four sons in their teens, stood ready to fight.
They were armed with hammers and pry bars.
'Stand aside,' said Erik.
'What do you mean to do?' demanded the oldest man
there.
'I hate saying this to any master of craft, but I'm putting
the torch to your shop. That cradle and your tools
go as well.'
The man's eyes narrowed and he said, 'Over my cold
body.'
Erik said, 'Look, I do not want to fight you, but no
one is going to build ships for the Emerald Queen. Do
you understand?'
'Man, it's all I have!' said the builder.
Erik pointed with his sword to the distant bridge of
white and green moving slowly toward them and said,
'They will take all you have. They will rape your
women and kill you, or make you slaves and force you
to build ships for them, and they will sail them to my
home and kill me and mine.'

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN  53I

'What would you have us do?' the builder demanded,
as much a plea as a challenge.
,Take a boat and sail away, friend,' said Erik. 'Get
your sons and daughters and get away while you still
have time. Go to the City of the Serpent River and hold
there as long as you can, but if you don't leave now, I
will kill you if I must.'
Biggo and two other men came running up behind

Erik, and the sight of five armed men proved too much
for the shipbuilder. He nodded and said, 'We need an
hour.'
Erik shook his head. 'I can give you five minutes,
then I start burning.' He saw a small sailing boat
anchored in the estuary. 'Is that yours?'
'No, it's my neighbor's.'
'Then steal it, and go.'
Erik motioned for the men to spread out, and as Biggo
passed, one of the sons shouted, 'No, Father! I'll not let
them bum our home!'
Before Biggo could turn, the young man struck him
from behind with a pry bar, bringing it straight across
the large man's neck. Erik cried, 'No!' but was too
late. The loud crack told him Biggo's neck had been
broken.
Roo charged the young man, bashing him in the face
with his shield, knocking him backwards into his
brothers and uncles. The young man lost the pry bar,
which clattered away across the stones, and Erik looked
down at the motionless form of Biggo.
The shipwright and his family stood motionless as Roo
stood over the boy, his sword poised to end his life. Erik
stepped over and grabbed his friend, pulling him away.
'Why?' he demanded, as he leaned over the now terrorized
youth. Grabbing him by the tunic, he lifted him
by main force with one arm, until he was nose to nose
with him. -fell me why.' he screamed into his face.

i~

532

RAYMOND E. FEIST

The boy's face contorted with terror. Then Erik heard
a woman's voice say, 'Don't hurt him.'
Erik turned and saw a woman, who stood with tears
streaming down her face. 'He's my only son.'
Erik shouted, 'He killed my friend! Why shouldn't I
kill him now?'
'He's all I have,' said the woman.
Erik felt the anger drain away. He pushed the boy
toward his mother and said, 'Go.' The boy took a half
step, then Erik screamed, 'Now!'
Turning to Roo, he said, 'Bum it all!'
Roo carried a torch and hurried into the home of the
family, who stood watching helplessly. Erik said, 'Get
to that boat and sail away. Otherwise you will all
die.'
The father nodded and led his band away, and Erik
knelt by Biggo. Rolling the big man over, he saw his
eyes wide. Suddenly he heard laughter and turned to
find Nakor standing behind. 'He looks surprised.'
Erik suddenly heard himself laugh, for it was true. No
anger, or pain, but amazement was etched on the face
of the big man.
Erik stood. 'I wonder if the Goddess of Death is everything
Biggo expected her to be.' Then he turned and
saw Roo emerging from the building, smoke coming
through the door after him.
'Come on,' Erik said. 'We're almost out of time.'
Roo looked across the distant river and saw the bridge
was now arching upward toward the midpoint of the
river. Sounds of battle, screams and the dash of arms,
rang from the north, and Erik knew the wall was likely
breached or would be soon as the defenders ran in
terror from the magic of the Emerald Queen and her
army.
From the far end of the estuary, clouds of smoke rose,
heralding the work done by Calis and his company. Sho

I

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN  533

Pi and two other men raced to the next building and set
it ablaze, while Erik and Roo went down a series of
stone steps to a low assembly point, a series of wooden
sheds on a rocky point. These they quickly started burn

ing. Nakor hurried ahead.
Reaching the quayside, they discovered the fire had
spread to the other side of the street and was growing in
strength. Erik ran along until he came to the next construction
site and started setting fires.
As he moved back toward the main street, Erik
noticed a flood of people running along, many carrying
bundles, and he knew the enemy was somewhere inside
the city. Roo tugged on Erik's sleeve and he said,
'What?'
Roo pointed and said, 'It's the Captain!'
Through the gathering press of men and women, Erik
caught sight of Calis, Nakor, and de Loungville. Then
they were swallowed up by the crowd.
'Head for the harbor!' Erik called out, in case any
other of his band was nearby.
He and Roo made their way as best they could, Erik
using his bulk and strength to push through the throng,
Roo staying close behind him. He lost sight of the
others.
Down a side street they overlook de Loungville.
'Where's the Captain?' shouted Erik.
'Somewhere ahead up there.'
Erik noticed de Loungville had picked up a cut to his
arm, and had hastily wrapped it. 'You all right?'
De Loungville said, 'I'll live for the next few
minutes.'
'Where's everyone going?' shouted Roo.
'Same place we are,' answered de Loungville. 'The
docks. The city's about to fall and everyone is going to
be looking for a boat. We've just got to get one before
anyone else.'

l~

534

RAYMOND E. FEIST

Roo glanced over his shoulder. 'At least we got the
shipyards ablaze.'
De Loungville said, 'At least we did that.'
Then it started to rain.

I

TWENTY-FOUR

Escape

Erik turned.
-the fires!'
'What do you expect us to do?' the sergeant asked as
increasing numbers of people swarmed by him.
Suddenly Calis appeared, forcing his way back to
where the two of them stood. Then Nakor and Sho Pi
were at his side. 'We have to go back!' shouted the little
man.
'What can we do?' demanded de Loungville.
'We have to keep the fires burning,' said Nakor. As if to
taunt them, the rain increased in urgency, turning from a
light sprinkle to a more insistent tattoo. 'If we get them
hot enough, only the worst storm will put them out.'
Calis nodded. They started moving toward the fires,
and Erik looked around for Roo. In the faint hope he
could be heard over the din, Erik shouted in the King's
Tongue, 'Back to the estuary! Back to the fires!'
Whatever else might be taking place in the city, there
was a full-scale riot brewing near the waterfront. Soldiers
sent to keep order were joining in the general run for the
ships. That the harbor mouth was now jammed by the
hulks and only shallow-draft boats could manage to slip
out seemed to be of no concern to the citizenry of
Maharta.
Ships' crews tried their best to fend off citizens seeking
a haven, and several captains raised sail to put some
distance between the docks and their craft. A half-dozen
horsemen rode furiously down the street, and men and

II

536

RAYMOND E. FEIST

women screamed as they attempted to get out of the
way.
Erik shouted, 'Get the horses!' and as the lead animal
shied at the press of humanity before it, Erik leaped and
took a hold on the arm of the rider, catching him off
guard. Erik found surprising strength as he yanked the
man from his saddle, given how beat-up he felt. With
one crushing blow, he knocked the man unconscious,
throwing him to the ground. It was probably a death
sentence, as the crowd would trample the man, but Erik
had no sympathy for someone who would ride down
women and children to make good his own escape.
The horse's eyes were white with fear and its nostrils
flared. It tried to back up and felt the horse behind, and
without hesitation it kicked out. The flying hooves
caught an innocent trader carrying his last half-dozen
jars of valuable unguents, sending them flying through
the air to smash on the stones as the stout man was
knocked almost senseless. Erik spared a moment to grab
the man and haul him to his feet with one hand while
gripping hard on the horse's reins with the other. He
shouted at the merchant, 'Stay on your feet, man. If you
fall, you die.'
The man nodded, and Erik let him go, having no more
time to spend. He mounted and saw that Calis and the
others had followed his example, save for Nakor, who
was being attacked by the one remaining rider. Erik
kicked hard at the flank of his animal, and the frightened
gelding leaped forward. Erik's sure hands guided him
through the press to where Nakor struggled to avoid
being skewered by a scimitar. Erik took out his own blade
and with a single roundhouse blow took the rider out of
his saddle.
Nakor sprang to the now-empty saddle and said,
'Thank you. I grabbed the reins before I thought of how I
was to get him to give up his horse.'

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 537

Erik urged his animal past Nakor's and took off up the
street after Calis and de Loungville. The two remaining
riders seemed content to let them keep the horses as long
as they were allowed to keep their own, and did not try to
interfere with their passing.
The bulk of the horses parted the swarming mob that

would have swept away men on foot. Once they were
back on the street leading to the fires, the crowd thinned
out. The rain was steady, and as they rounded a corner
alongside the estuary, they saw the fires were beginning to
abate.
Eric kept as close to the flames as possible, as there he
had the least trouble passing the throng running through
the street. The horse continued to shy from the flames, but
Erik's firm seat and short reins kept the animal under
control.
At the end of the estuary, where the first fire was set, the
large ship's cradle and hull were almost completely intact,
save for some scorching, and the once brisk fire was now
guttering. Erik saw an abandoned house across the street
and rode there. Leaping from the saddle, he swatted the
horse on the rump, sending it away.
Running inside the house, Erik found furnishings
turned every which way. Looters, perhaps, thought Erik,
or a family desperate to clear out their few valuables
before the fire reached them. He grabbed a chair and ran
across the broad street, to the top of the jetty that overlooked
the fire and tossed the wooden chair into the
flames below. He made several quick trips across the rainy
street and every loose piece of furniture made its way into
the fire. As Nakor predicted, once reaching a certain heat,
the fire grew, despite the rain, which seemed to be leveling
off at a steady drizzle rather than a serious downpour.
In the next house, Erik found more loose flammables
and threw them into the growing fire. At last he felt
certain the cradle and hull would stay alight, but as he

538

RAYMOND E. FEIST

looked down the quayside, his heart sank. His was the
only fire burning strongly enough to withstand the rain,
and there was only so much one man could do.
He hurried to the next fire, which was almost extinguished,
and found a store across the street. The large
wooden doors had been forced open, one hanging from a
single hinge while the other lay on the street. Erik picked
up the one door and carried it to the edge of the street
overlooking the shipyard below. He tossed the wooden
door as far as he could and it sailed down to land on the
edge of the sputtering flames. If anything, it banked the
fire even more.
Erik swore as he hurried back to the shop. The front of
the store was almost intact; whoever had pried open the
doors had taken one look and run off. The store was a
chandlery, with nothing of value to a looter. Erik hurried
through and in the rear he found yards of sail. More, he
found scaling pitch in barrels. He quickly rolled one out
through the ruined storefront, and across the street.
There he picked up the barrel. He threw it so it landed
squarely on the flames. The barrel struck with a satisfying
crack and quickly the pitch began to bum. Erik took a
step away and then a fountain of flame sprang skyward.
Nakor ran up and said, 'What did you find? That was a
good 'whoosh"!'
'Pitch,' answered Erik. 'Inside.' He turned and the little
man followed after. Nakor scurried around, looking at
everything he could find. He came away with several
smaller kegs and put them aside out front, then hurried
inside. A moment later he came out, stooped over, pushing
a barrel as Erik was returning from putting a second
barrel on the flame.
Erik paused and turned to look at the western sky. The
bridge of light was nearing the apex of its arc, the Saaur
and mercenaries at the leading edge standing hundreds
of feet above the water.

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 539

Nakor said, 'Wish I had a trick, boy. If I could make
that thing vanish' - he snapped his fingers -'that would
be something, watching them all fall into the river.'
Erik got another barrel and side by side they rolled
them down the cobbles, toward the third builder's yard.
'Why doesn't some magician around here think of that?'
he asked, nearly panting from the exertion.
'Battle magic is difficult,' said Nakor as he pushed the

barrel along. 'Magician has a trick. Another magician
counters the trick. Third magician counters the second.
Fourth magician tries to help the second. They're all
standing around trying to best one another and the army
comes along and chops them up. Very dangerous and not
many magicians Willing to try.
'Surprise is the thing.' He paused as he reached the
ramp leading down to the lower landing where the main
building of the shipyard was ablaze, and let the barrel roll
away with a guiding kick. 'That trick there would be very
easy to counter, if you gave a powerful magician the time
to study it. Lots of Pantathians working together on that
bridge. Lots of serpent priests concentrating together.
Very difficult. Easy to disrupt. Like unraveling a bag. You
pull the right thread at the seam, and it all falls apart.'
Erik looked at him expectantly. Nakor grinned. 'I don't
know how. But Pug of Stardock or maybe some Tsurani
Great Ones could do it.'
Erik closed his eyes a moment, then said, 'Well, if
they're not going to show up to help, I guess we have to
do it ourselves. Come on!'
As they ran back toward the chandler's, Nakor continued, '
But if Pug or some other powerful magician was
to try, the Emerald Queen has even more magicians
ready to burn him to a cinder if he. . .' He stopped. 'I
have an idea!'
Erik halted, gasping for breath. 'What?'
'You go find the others. Tell them to steal a boat here,

540        RAYMOND E. FEIST

in the estuary. Don't wait. Leave now. Get out of the
harbor fast. I'll take care of the fires!'
Erik said, 'Nakor, how?'
'Tell you later. You gave me great idea! Now go! Leave
soon!' The little man hurried back toward the chandler's,
and Erik took a deep breath and turned. He willed his
exhausted body into one more run and set off to look for
Calis and the others.

At the far end of the estuary, Erik found Calis, de
Loungville, and Sho Pi working hard at stoking a fire.
Two dead guardsmen nearby told him someone had
objected.
The rain increased in tempo and Erik found himself
soaked to the skin as he reached Calis. 'Nakor says to get
ù boat and leave, now.'
Calis said, 'There's too much here left intact.'
'He said to tell you he'd take care of it. He's thought up
ù great trick.'
Instantly Calis dropped a long board he was about to
toss on a sputtering bonfire and said, 'Did you see any
boats?'
Erik shook his head. 'But I wasn't looking for any.'
They hurried back up the road until they came to the
first stone stairway leading down to a lower section of the
docks, where some small fires still smoldered. The rain
was starting to fall in earnest, a drenching downpour that
obscured the mystic arch that now hung more than half
the way between the opposite bank and the city.
Peering through the rain, Erik said, 'There's something
out there.'
He pointed. Calis said, 'It's capsized.'
They moved along the edge of the estuary, and more
than once thought they had seen something only to find
an overturned hull or smashed bow. Then Sho'Pi said,
'Therel Moored to a buoy!'

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN  54I

Calis tossed aside his weapons and dove in. Erik took a
breath and leaped after him. He followed his Captain by
the sound of splashing more than anything else. Each
stroke threatened to be his last as fatigue and cold
seemed to leech what little strength Erik had left.
But then he came alongside the craft. It was a fishing
smack, with a deep center compartment half-filled with
brine to keep the fish fresh. The single mast lay along the
port gunnel, lashed in place. 'Any small-boat sailors?'
asked Calis.

Half falling as he pulled himself inside the boat, Erik
said, 'Just what I learned on the Revenge. I'm from the
mountains, remember.'
De Loungville peered inside the sail locker. 'No sails,
anyway.' He reached down along the gunwale of the
boat and found two pairs of oars.
Calis sat down and took one pair and fit them in the
oarlocks, while de Loungville cut the boat free from the
mooring buoy. By the time Calis had taken a third pull,
de Loungville had unshipped the second set of oars and
was pulling along in time with Calis.
Sho Pi found a rudder and tiller and set them up, while
Erik sank deeper into the boat. He was soaked to his skin,
battered, and exhausted, but he almost gave thanks for
being able to simply sit and not have to move.
'Anyone see Roo?' asked Erik. 'Or Jadow or Natombi?'
De Loungville shook his head. 'Where's Biggo?'
'Dead,' replied Erik.
Then de Loungville said, 'Find a bucket. We're going to
be swimming if we keep taking on water.'
Erik looked around and in a bait box found a large
wooden bucket. He stood there a moment, then asked,
'What do I do?'
'Look for pools of water, fill the bucket, and pour
it over the side,' answered de Loungville. 'It's called
bailing.'

542

RAYMOND E. FEIST

Erik said, 'Oh,' and knelt. The boat had a bilge grate,
and he saw water collecting under it. He moved the grate
and dipped the bucket, and filled it half full.
Water wasn't coming in save for the rain, and he didn't
have to work hard to keep the water contained in the
bilge. Erik looked ahead.
A shallow flow out the south end of the estuary provided
a direct course into the river's mouth. Calis
shouted to Sho Pi, 'Steer that way. The deeper channel
for the big ships leads into the main harbor. This smack
might be able to steer between the hulks in the harbor,
but I don't want to chance it.'
Erik said, 'With the chaos in the harbor, we would be
trading one mess for a bigger one.'
De Loungville said, 'Just keep bailing.'

Pug sat up, as a strange keening filled the air. it was the
dead of night at Stardock, and he had been asleep. He
pulled on his robe as the door to his sleeping quarters was
pushed open. Miranda, wearing a very short and sheer
sleeping shift, said, 'What is that?'
Pug said, 'An alarm. I've established wards throughout
Novindus, so I could keep track of what's going on down
there without risking calling too much attention to
myself.' He waved his hand and the sound ceased. 'The
city of Maharta.'
They had come to share a quiet sense of each other
over the weeks Miranda had been staying with Pug. She
found it amusing that so many of the 'mysteries' surrounding
him were really nothing more than sleight of-
hand.
When he 'vanished,' he was usually nearby, but keeping
out of sight. He used a magical gate to leave Stardock
and return to Sorcerer's Isle at will, and usually appeared
there at night. Meals were waiting for him, as well as his
laundry, much to Miranda's delight.

I

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN  543

Pug regarded the dark eyes that studied him. 'What do
you intend to do?' she asked. 'Go there?'
'No,' said Pug. 'There might be a trap. Come along. I've
got something interesting to show you.' He led her out of
his personal quarters in the tower at the center of the
keep of Stardock, and down the stairs.

'And why don't you put some clothes on? You're quite
a distraction in that nothing you sleep in.'
Miranda gave him a half-smile as she ducked into her
own quarters, grabbed a dress, and slipped it over her
head. Stockings, shoes, and the rest she'd worry about
later.
She returned to the hall and followed Pug down the
stairs. She had sensed over the weeks they had been
together that Pug found her attractive, and on several
occasions had wondered about him in a more personal
way, but neither had broached the topic or acted upon it.
She had slept alone in a room close to his every night
since following him to Stardock.
A strange sort of trust had built up between them, for
while Miranda refused to reveal much about herself, she
had a quick mind and fast wit and the same dry sense of
humor Pug had developed over the years. He had given
her the run of the place, and she had been in most of the
rooms, but not all. A few rooms were locked, and when
she asked about them, he said there were things he was
unwilling to share with anyone, and would change the
subject.
He made a motion with his hand as he approached one
such door, and it swung open without a touch. She
understood the principles involved in the spell, but had
sensed nothing of magic when she had investigated the
door a month earlier.
Inside the room was a large assortment of scrying
devices. A round object lay beneath a blue velvet cover,
and as he removed this, she saw a perfect globe of crystal.

i~

544        RAYMOND E. FEIST

'This was a legacy from my teacher Kulgan, who died
Many years ago. It was fashioned by Althafain of Carse.'
She nodded in recognition of the name of the legendary
artificer of magic items. As he passed his hand over it, the
heart of crystal turned opaque, a milk-white cloud forming
within the ball. With another pass of his hand, he
brought a rosy,glow to the cloud within the orb. 'This
device gave him the first hint I had some talent' - his
voice fell low as he added -'a very long time ago.'
'What can it do?'
'It's a sighting device, and the wonderful thing about it
is that it is very subtle. Those being watched have to be
very alert to sense its use.' He sat on a stool and motioned
for Miranda to sit nearby.
'The problem, though, is that what makes it subtle
makes it very stupid. If you don't know what you're
looking for, it's no help at all.
'Fortunately, I know where I placed each ward.' He
squinted a little, and Miranda felt magic turning and
being adjusted as Pug said, 'Let's see what is happening in
Maharta. It must be midmorning there.'
He focused his will, and the city of Maharta was revealed
in the glass, as if viewed from the clouds by the
birds. it lay in smoke and cloudy darkness.
'What tripped your ward?' asked NUranda.
'That's what I'm trying to ... Here, I think.'
The point of view in the glass shifted, and across the
river he saw a bridge of light, and an army upon it. After
viewing it for a moment, Pug closed his eyes.
He opened them again after a moment. 'One thing
about the Pantathians: there's little about them one
might call refined. Unless I attacked them directly, there's
no possible way they could know I was watching.'
'Is Maharta going to fall?' asked Miranda.
'It appears that's the case.' answered Pug.
'Calis?'

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN  545

Pug said, 'I'll try to find him.'
Pug closed his eyes and the scene in the ball shifted,
and as he opened them again, the colors swirling in the
ball resolved themselves into an image. A small fishing
boat, rowed by two men and holding two others,
struggled through rough waters. Pug brought the image
closer, and they could both see that the first man in the
boat was Calis, pulling with his more than human

strength against the choppy water.
Miranda sighed. 'I suppose helping him is out of the
question?'
'Difficult, without letting the Pantathians know where
we are. A few I could deal with. Those guarding that
bridge. . .'
'I know,' she said.
Pug looked at Miranda. 'You're fond of him, aren't
you?'
'Calis?' She was silent for a while. 'In a way. He's
unique and I feel a ... connection with him.'
Pug sat back, his face a mask. 'It's been a long time
since I've felt that with anyone.' Looking back into the
ball, he said, 'We could attempt -'
Suddenly there was a flash of orange light in the ball.
Miranda said, 'What was that?'

'What was that?' shouted de Loungville as orange light
exploded at the docks.
They had been making steady headway against the
running tide as they crossed the boundary of the estuary
and entered the river proper. The winds were picking up
and the rain increasing, to the point where Erik was
bailing in earnest.
No one had spoken for a while. Despite their efforts to
stoke the fires before leaving, the rain had been defeating
them. Even the biggest fire was starting to diminish. And
whatever Nakor's idea, it hadn't been manifested. Then a

II

546

RAYMOND E. FEIST

hum had sounded in the distance, followed a moment
later by a bolt of white energy arcing down from th
bridge to strike the center of the shipyard.
A huge ball of orange flame climbed into the ai
followed by a rising column of black smoke. The sound o
the explosion had hurt their ears even at this distance
and a moment later a hot gust of air struck them like i
stinging blow.
'Keep rowing!' yelled Calis.
Erik bailed, but he looked over his shoulder, past Sho
Pi, who also looked back. 'Look!' shouted Sho Pi as a tiny
dart of blue light rose from the docks and struck at the
leading edge of the bridge of light.
Within seconds another massive bolt of energy rained

down on the harbor, exploding buildings and sheds into
flame. Two previously intact ships resting at anchor,
waiting to be hauled out for repair, caught fire as flames
touched their sails.
Now half the shipyard was aflame and hot enough,,
apparently, for the rain to have little impact. Calis and de
Loungville pulled hard, and a few minutes later another

blue bolt of light rose up and struck the bridge.
The third blast from above was as large as the first two
combined, and fully half the waterfront was engulfed in
fire. Suddenly de Loungville let out a harsh laugh.
'Nakor!' he said.
Even Calis couldn't hide his astonishment.
Erik said, 'But he said he didn't have any magic that
would work against the bridge!'
De Loungville said, 'But they don't know that!' He
jutted his chin at the bridge, starting its descent toward
Maharta. 'Whatever he's doing, they think it's an attack,
and they're doing our work for us! They're going to bum
down half the city trying to fry the little maniac!'
Suddenly Erik started to laugh. He couldn't help himself.
The image of the little man dashing madly from

HADOW OF A DARK QUEEN  547
S

place to place, somehow avoiding the terrible destruction
the Pantathians were throwing at him, was comic to
consider.

'It's an illusion,' said Sho Pi. 'The serpent priests are so
ready for combat, they don't trouble to look at what is
only an illusion. They act as if it were real.'
Another tiny blue bolt shot skyward and another

thundering response answered, and more of the city's
waterfront erupted in flame.
'Gods,' said Erik in a half-whisper. 'How's he going to
get out of that?'

Miranda squinted against the bright image in the ball.
'What is going on?'
'Someone has the Pantathians convinced they're
under attack, and they're spending a great deal of energy
trying to destroy whoever it is.'
'Can we help?'
Pug said, 'There's enough going on that I think I can
slip something in to make merry hell for this Emerald
Queen.' He closed his eyes and Miranda felt power

flowing toward him. He moved his lips slightly, and, like
music, the pitch of the energies in the room shifted.
Miranda sat back to watch, and to wait.

Each time the flames grew and Erik was convinced Nakor

must finally be dead, another tiny blue bolt would strike
the bridge, and another globe of hell-fire would descend
on the city. The entire waterfront was now ablaze, from
the shipbuilders' estuary to the main harbor. As they
took the river to the ocean, and rode the outgoing tide

past the harbor mouth, they could see mighty ships
burning at the dockside. Erik tried not to imagine Roo
stuck on the docks in the midst of that fire and panic,
trapped with no way to escape but to jump into the
harbor.

548        RAYMOND E. FEIST                      SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN  549

As they steered clear of the rocks, they began to
follow along the long breakwater they had used to
enter the city. Movement caught Erik's eye and he said,
'What's that over there?'
In the rain he could barely see, but Calis said, 'Some
of our men.'
He told Sho Pi to move closer, but pulled up short of
letting the boat get too close to the rocks. Eric looked
and saw three of the men who had been lost in the river
the night before. One looked seriously injured, and the
other two waved frantically.
Calis stood and shouted, 'You've got to swim. We
can't risk coming any closer.'
The men nodded and one slipped into the water. The
other helped the injured man in, and the two aided him
as he slowly swam to the boat.
one of the men was Jadow, and Erik was glad to see a
familiar face. But of his own company, only Sho Pi was
left. Roo and Luis were not with these men. Neither was
Greylock.
As Calis sat down to start rowing once more, Erik
heard something. It was faint and distant but familiar.
'Wait!' he said, looking down the breakwater.
In the distance, a tiny figure picked its way along the
rocks. As it got closer, Erik felt a weight lift from his
shoulders, for Roo was limping along toward them.
'Hey!' he shouted, waving his hand above his head.
Erik stood and waved back. 'We see you!' he shouted.
Roo came to the closest point he could, then jumped
feet first into the water. He thrashed through the water
and Erik was over the side before anyone could say
anything.
Near exhaustion a moment before, he gained renewed
strength from Roo's plight, and he struck out
through the water as if he had all the strength he had
ever possessed. Reaching the smaller man, he took him

by the shirt and half carried, half dragged him back
through the water.
He pushed Roo into the boat, pulled himself up half over
the gunwales, and let the others pull him aboard. As he fell
into the bottom of the boat, Erik said, 'What kept you?'
'Some damn fool turned loose a horse that kicked me.
Damn near broke my leg.'He sat up. 'I knew there was too
much going on near the harbor, so I figured if any of you
got out, you'd be coming this way. So here I am.'
'Smart,'said de Loungville as he and Calis began to row.
'Now start bailing.'
'What's bailing?' said Roo.

Erik pointed to the bucket in the bottom of the boat.
-rake that, fill it there' - he pointed at the bilge - 'then
dump it over the side.'
'I'm injured!' Roo protested.
Looking around the boat, where no man sat without a
scar, Erik said, 'My heart bleeds for you. Bail!'
'Natombi, Greylock?' asked Erik.
Roo said, 'Natombi's dead. He was hit from behind by a
soldier while trying to get past another. I haven't seen
Greylock since we started back from the harbor.'
De Loungville said, 'Talk all you want, but start bailing!'
Roo muttered under his breath, but he dipped the
bucket into the water gathering at the bottom of the boat
and lifted it to dump it over the side.

Power manifested in the air and a singing sound caused
every man to turn back toward the city. They had rowed
for nearly an hour and were well clear of the harbor
mouth, far enough away to have backed off the pace, and
now they were turning northeast, making along the coast
to the City of the Serpent River.
The bridge of light was close to touching down and
armies were now upon it from end to end. But this strange
keening, loud enough to cause the men in the boat to

550

RAYMOND E. FEIST

flinch, ranged over the landscape, and while they could
see nothing of those on the bridge, Erik imagined it must
be painful for those close to it.
Then the bridge was gone.
'What?' said Roo.
A thundering report sounded a moment later, and
then a warm wind washed over them, rocking the smack
against the roll of the,sea. Sho Pi said, 'Someone made
the bridge go away.'
De Loungville laughed. It was a dirty, unpleasant
sound.
Erik looked at him and asked, 'What?'
'I hope those Saaur on the bridge know how to swim.'
Jadow, his broad grin lighting up his face in the gloom,
said, 'As high as that bridge was, man, I hope they know
how to fly.'
Roo winced. 'Must have been a few thousand of them
up there.'
'The more the better,' said de Loungville. 'Now, one of
you lads needs to take over for me.' Suddenly he was
failing forward into the boat.
Roo and Sho P! moved him, while Erik took his place.
'He was wounded in the arm,' said Erik.
Sho Pi examined him. 'And in the side. He's lost a great
deal of blood.'
Jadow took the tiller and Calis said, 'I mean to row
until dawn, then we'll put in. That should put us ahead of
most of those fleeing up the coast, and maybe we can
find a place to lay up.'
Sho Pi stood up. 'Captain,'
,what?'
Pointing ahead, he said, 'I think I see a ship.'
Calis stopped rowing and turned to look. Looming up
out of the late afternoon darkness, a white sail ' rose
against dark thunderclouds.
'I hope they're friendly,' said Roo.

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 55I

After a moment, Calis turned, and there was no masking
the broad grin on his face. 'Thank the gods! It's the
Ranger!'
'Oh, man, I'm going to kiss that Captain,' said
Jadow.
'Shut up,' said Roo. 'We want him to stop, not run
away.'
The others laughed. Then Calis said, 'Start waving any

thing that will draw their attention.'
The men stood and started waving swords, trying to
catch the late afternoon sunlight, as faint as it was, and
reflect it from the blade, or wave a shirt.
Then the ship started to turn and make its way toward
them. After a seemingly endless time, it came close
enough for a man in the bow to shout, 'Is that you, Lord
Calis?'
'Get some help down here! I've got injured men.'
The ship slowed and sailors scrambled down and
helped get the injured aboard. The smack was left to drift,
and once they were all on deck, the Captain came forward
and said, 'Good to see you again.'
Erik's eyes widened. 'Highness,' he said.
Nicholas, Prince of Krondor, said, 'Here I'm just
'Admiral."'
'How did you convince the King to let you come?'
asked Calis.
'As soon as the Ranqer returned with the intelligence
you'd sent back, I just told Borric I was going. Erland's in
Krondor with Patrick, acting as his son's Regent, so we're
both where we want to be. I'll catch you up on court
politics later. Right now let's get you below and into
some dry clothing.'
Calis nodded. 'We need to get far from here. And
there's much to speak of.'
Nicholas called out, 'Mr Williams!'
*Aye, sir?'

552

Miranda stretched. 'I'm thinking we need to travel.'
'Where?'
'Somewhere warm and pleasant, with empty beaches.
We've been locked up over these books for months now,
and we're no closer to finding the key to the puzzle.'
'There you are wrong, my dear,' said Pug. 'I've known
what the key is for some time. The key is Macros the
Black. The problem is where is the bloody lock?'
Miranda stood up and knelt next to him. Putting her
arm around his shoulder in a familiar gesture, she said,
'Why don't we worry about that some other time. I need
a rest. You do as well.'
Pug laughed. 'I know just the place. Warm beaches,
few distractions - if the cannibals don't notice you - and

RAYMOND E. FEI.ST

'Turn us around and set as much sail as she'll carry.
We're making for home!' '
Aye, aye, sir!' came the reply.
Erik was certain he heard relief in the first mate's
voice. Sailors led Erik and the others below, and somewhere
between then and the next morning, Erik passed
out, and was undressed and put into a warm bunk by
someone.

Miranda said, you took a chance.'
]Pug smiled. 'Not much of one, given the circumstances.
All I did was irritate them, really. The city was
already theirs.'
'What next?'
'More waiting,' said Pug, and for an instant she saw his
chafing at the need to do so. 'When the Queen is ready to
make her next move, and she shows us how she is going
to dispose of those things in her possession, then we'll
know what we must do next.'

we can relax.'
'Good,' she said, kissing him lightly on the cheek. 'I'D
go get my things.'

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN  553

As she left the room, Pug sat back and pondered this
strange woman. The light brush of her lips on his cheek
was a small gesture, but the touch lingered and he knew
it was an open invitation, if a demure one. He had not
found time to become involved with any woman since
his wife had died, nearly thirty years before. He had

known lovers, but they had been companions or distractions.
Miranda was possibly something else.
Suddenly he smiled and stood up as he considered that
a lonely beach without distractions was the perfect place
to begin unraveling her mysteries. The northern great
archipelago would be lovely this time of the year, and
there were far more deserted islands than populated
ones.
As he returned to his own quarters, Pug felt a spring in
his step he hadn't experienced since he was a boy, and
suddenly he felt the troubles of the world were far away,
at least for a little while.

Erik looked at the whitecaps as the ship sped through the
ocean. Roo had caught him up on the gossip: Prince
Nicholas had come down from Krondor with the returning
Freeport Ranger and had taken personal command of
the situation. He had read the reports Calis had sent downriver
from his first meeting with Hatonis, and had kept
himself abreast of the enemy's movement. He had
kept Trenchard's Revenge anchored at the City of the Serpent
River and had come down the coast against the
possibility of Calis and his men having to flee that way.
They had been anchored in the harbor at Maharta for a
month when agents in the city got word to him of the
coming blockading of the harbor. He had raised anchor
and sailed out past a skiff full of city guards and an angry
harbormaster, then sailed away from a pursuing cutter.
He had stayed out to sea for a week, then returned to find
the harbor mouth sealed.

554

RAYMOND E. FEIST

Nicholas had then sailed up the coast for a day, keeping.
out of sight of the city against the possibility of enemy
ships coming up the coast. When he had seen the smoke
from the first battle, he had given the order to hug the
coastline as closely as safely possible, to determine what
was occurring on the land. He had been sailing toward
the harbor for a better look when he'd spied the fishing
smack carrying the last of Calis's party.
De Loungville came up on deck, his arm and ribs
bandaged, and came to stand next to Erik. 'How goes it?'
Erik shrugged. 'Well enough. Everyone's resting. I'm
still sore, but I'll live.'
De Loungville said, 'You did well back there.'
'I did what I could,' answered Erik. 'What do we do
next?'
'We?' said de Loungville. 'Nothing. We're going home.
It's back to the City of the Serpent River, give the Clan
Chieftains what we know in case Hatonis and Praji don't
get there, then we pick up Trenchard's Revenge and head
back to Krondor.
'Once we're there, you're a free man.'
Erik said nothing for a while until: 'That's a strange
thought.'
'What's a strange thought?' asked Roo. limping as he
came up beside them. He yawned. 'Never thought I'd live
to see the day I'd enjoy waking up on a ship.'
'I was just saying,' said Erik, 'that the idea of being a
free man is strange.'
Roo said, 'I can still feel the noose around my neck. I
know it's not there, but I can feel it.'
Erik nodded.
De Loungville said, 'I was asking what you two were
planning next.'
Erik shrugged, but Roo said, 'There's a merchant in
Krondor who has an ugly daughter. I plan on marrying
her and getting rich.'

SHADOW OF A DARK QUEEN 555

De Loungville laughed while Erik smiled and shook his
head in disbelief 'Helmut Grindle,' said Erik.
'That's the man,' said Roo. 'I've got a plan that will
make me rich in a year, two at the outside.'
'What's that?' said de Loungville.
,if I tell you, and you tell someone else, then there's no
advantage, is there?'
De Loungville seemed genuinely amused as he said, 'I

guess not.' He turned to Erik. 'And what about you?'
Erik said, 'I don't know. I'm going back to Ravensburg,
to visit my mother. Then I don't know.'
,I don't suppose it would hurt to let you boys know
there's a bonus of gold in this for you.'
Erik smiled and Roo's eyes lit up.
De Loungville said, 'Enough for you to start up that
smithy.'
Erik said, 'That seems like a faint dream.'
De Loungville said, 'Well, it's a long voyage, and you
have a lot of time to think on it. But I have a suggestion.'
'
What?' asked Erik.
'This battle's just one of many, nothing more. We cut
them and they're bleeding, but they're a long way from
dead. Burning down the shipyards gained us a few years.
Calis thinks maybe five, perhaps six, then the ships will
start being built in earnest. Hatonis and the others
will run a war, irregulars striking at the lumber trains as
they caravan down the mountains and raiding the barges
on the rivers; it'll slow them down, but sooner or later
the ships will be built.
'We've got agents all through the area, and we'll burn
a few of the ships and cause them general grief for a
while, but sooner or later. . .'
'They will come,' finished Erik.
'Across the Endless Sea, right into the Bitter Sea, and to
the gates of Krondor.' He waved back toward Maharta,

out of sight but still fresh in their memory. 'You think on
that happening to the Prince's city.'
'Not a pretty thought,' admitted Roo.
'We've got a lot of work to do, Calis and I. And I could
use a corporal.'
Roo grinned and Erik said, 'Corporal?'
'You've got a knack, son, even if you're not mean
enough. Hell, Charlie Foster was a nice guy by anyone's
measure before I got my hands on him. A couple of years
with me and you'll be spitting cobbler's nails and pissing
lightning!'
'Me in the army?'
De Loungville said, 'Not just any army. Nicholas is going
to give Calis a mandate, signed by the King. We're going to
raise up an army the likes of which no man has seen before.
We'll train them and drill them, and when we're
done we'll have the finest fighting men in history.'
Erik said, 'I'm not sure.'
'You think about it. It's an important job.'
Erik said, 'I'm a little soured on killing right now,
Sergeant.'
De Loungville's voice dropped and he spoke firmly but
softly. 'That's why it's important and that's why you're
the right man for the job. We're going to train these men
to stay alive.'
He patted Erik once on the shoulder. 'It's a long
voyage. We'll have plenty of time to talk. I'm going to
take a rest now.'
Erik and Roo watched him leave and Roo said, 'You're
going to take the job, aren't you?'
'Probably,' said Erik. 'I don't know that I want to be a
soldier the rest of my life, but I do seem to have the
knack, and there's something about knowing where I
belong that appeals to me, Roo. Back home I never felt
that way. I was always 'the Baron's bastard," or ',that
crazy woman's son." He lapsed into silence a moment,

556        RAYMOND E. FEIST

SHADOW OF.A DARK QUEEN  557

then said, 'In Calis's army I'd just be Corporal Erik.' He
smiled. 'Besides, I have no ambitions to be rich like you.'
'Then I'll get rich enough for the both of us.'
Erik laughed and the two men stood quietly for a
while, simply relishing the fact of having survived to be
able to plan a future.

SHADOW OF A PARK QUEEN 559

Epilogue Reunion

The traveler squinted.
Atop a nearby hillock a figure sat, playing a thin reed
pipe ... badly.
The traveler leaned on -a staff that compensated for his
limp, due,in the main to a nasty sword wound to the
thigh that was only just now beginning to heal. He removed
his hat and ran his fingers through his hair, and
the figure on the hill started waving.
Owen limped closer and at last said, 'Nakor?'
'Greylock!' said Nakor as he walked down the hill. The
road was heavily traveled as thousands fled the invaders,
making their way up the old coastal trading route toward
the distant City of the Serpent River.
The two men embraced and Nakor said, 'You didn't get
out with the others?'
'I don't know who got out,' he said, using his staff so
he could ease himself to the ground. Nakor squatted next
to him and put his pipe away in his ever-present shoulder
sack.
'Most didn't,' said Nakor. 'I saw a boat and I think Calis
was in it, pretty sure. And some others. Saw a ship, but
they were too far away to see me.'
'So someone's getting word back to the Prince in
Krondor?'
'Pretty sure,' said Nakor with a grin.
'What are you doing now?'
'I was practicing my flute and resting. I'm going to the
City of the Serpent River.'

'mind if I walk with you?' asked Greylock. 'I'm afraid
I'm going to slow you down.'
'That's all right,' said Nakor. 'I've got lots of time.'
'What happened to you?' asked Greylock. 'I got caught
up in the crush when everyone was trying to get back to
the estuary. I got a horse but got knocked off, then a
guardsman swung at me with a sword before he ran off.'
He gestured to his leg. 'I barely got out of the city when
the dtizens broke down the northeastern gate. Something
happened to the invaders and there weren't a lot of
them around for a while, so I got through. I hid for a
couple of days, until the leg healed enough for me to limp
along,' He massaged his stiff leg. 'Don't know what
happened, back there, but something played fair havoc
with their invasion.'
,Pug of Stardock,' said Nakor. 'I think it was his trick.
He dumped them all into the river. It was grand. I
couldn't see much, though, as I was trying to keep from

burning.'
'You were responsible for all that in the city?'
'Most of it. A trick, really. Got the Pantathians to do the
work for me.'
'How did you get out of that holocaust?'
'I found that tunnel I told Calis about, the one that led
to the western precinct. I got past some rubble and some
guards, and when I reached the west side of the river,
most of the defenders had fled.'
Greylock said, 'Ingenious.' Then he said, 'Wait a
minute. If you were on the other side of the river, how did
you. . .' Pulling himself up with the staff and a hand up
from Nakor, Greylock said, 'Why don't you tell me about
it as we walk?'
Nakor grinned. 'Good. If we hurry we may reach the
City of the Serpent River before Calis and the others sail
home.'
'You sure they got out alive?'

II

560

RAYMOND E. FEIST

'Ship I saw sail past a few days ago?' said Nakor with a
grin, pointing out to sea. 'Freeport Ranger; if that was Calis
I saw in the boat, then they're alive, and they're heading
that way.' He pointed toward the northeast. 'City of the
Serpent River. They'll do some talking with the clan
chiefs, make plans, do other things.' They started walking. '
If we don't dawdle, we might get there in time.'
'Think we can steal some horses?' asked Greylock.
Nakor only grinned in reply as he dug into his sack and
pulled out a large round object. 'Want an orange?'

I

Magician
Raymond E. Feist

New Revised Edition

~i

Raymond E. Feist has prepared a new, revised edition, to
incorporate over 15,000 words of text omitted from
previous editions so that., in his own words, 'it is
essentially the book I would have written had I the skills I
possess today'.

At Crydee, a frontier outpost in the tranquil Kingdom of
the Isles, an orphan boy, Pug is apprenticed to a master
magician - and the destinies of two worlds are changed
forever. Suddenly the peace of the Kingdom is destroyed
as mysterious alien invaders swarm through the land. Pug
is swept up into the conflict but for him and his warrior
friend, Tomas, an odyssey into the unknown has only just
begun. Tomas will inherit a legacy of savage power from
an ancient civilisation. Pug's destiny is to lead him
through a rift in the fabric of space and time to the mastery
of the unimaginable powers,of a strange new magic...

'Epic scope ... fast-moving action ... vivid imagination'
Washington Post

'Tons of intrigue and action'

ISBN 0 586 2I783 3

Publishers Weekly

I

The Y-.,ing's Buccaneer
Raymond E. Feist

Set ten years after the events recounted in
Prince of the Blood, The King's Buccaneer is a new
and exciting epic adventure.

Nicholas, third son of Prince Arutha of Krondor, is a
bright and gifted youngster, but sheltered by the restrictive
life of his father's court. To learn more of the world
outside the palace walls, Nicholas and his squire, Harry,
set sail for pastoral Crydee. Thus begins an adventure that
will place the fate of his nation on his unsure shoulders.

Shortly after their arrival, Crydee is brutally attacked by
u nknown forces. The castle is reduced to ruins, the
townspeople slaughtered and two young noblewomen friends
of Nicholas - abducted. More than a simple raid
for slaves, the invaders serve dark forces intent upon the
wholesale destruction of the Kingdom of the Isles.

As brother to the future King, Nicholas must undertake a
long and dangerous journey. And as he ventures further
from the familiar landmarks of his home, Nicholas learns
that more than the fate of two girls is at stake, even more
than the fate of the Kingdom, for behind the murderous
pirates stands a force that menaces the entire world of
htdkemia, and he is destined to confront this terrifying
threat.

ISBN 0 586 20322 2

I

II

[I MAGICIAN Raymond E. Feist
D siLvERTHoRN Raymond E. Feist
[3 A DARKNESS AT SE~ON Raymmd E. Feist
E] THE SILVER BRANCH Patricia Ken~
D THE ELvEmma A. Norton/M. Lackey
E] UmTERoFwHrfumRm jannywurts
E]                    THE DRAGON AND THE GEORGE
Gordon R. Dickwn
E]                    BLACK TRILLIUM May/Bradley/Norton

0-586-2I783-5 œ6.99
0-586.064I7-6 œ4.99
0-586-06688-8 œ5.99
0-586-2I248-5 œ4.99
0-586-2I687-I œ5.99
0-586-2I068-7 œ4.99

0-586-2I326-0 œ4.99
0-586-2II02-0 œ4.99

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