Black wizards - Douglas Niles [44]
But he saw nothing. More slowly, he reached forward and touched the invisible barrier he had struck. It seemed to run along the shore of the stream and was solid as iron. Cursing, he considered this evidence of druidic might. He watched a small bird dart across the stream and saw that it was unaffected by the barrier. But when Hobarth reached forward, the invisible wall stopped him cold.
He chanted a short phrase, and magic suffused his body. He rose slowly from the ground and floated twenty feet up in the air, to discover that the curtain of protection extended up at least that high. He did not want to go higher, for that would have carried him above the treetops and he did not wish to be observed.
Frustrated, Hobarth lowered himself to the ground and stalked along the shore of the stream. He was not used to being thwarted, and rage built within him. This crude druidic protection was certainly a nuisance! He wondered if a truly stunning display of Bhaal's power might blow it away, but he decided to postpone experimentation. Such a spell would surely call attention to himself.
He heard voices before him. Quickly, he dropped into the underbrush and carefully moved forward, using the shadows of the woods to advance around a bend in the stream. There before him he saw his quarry.
The druid he sought knelt beside the stream, splashing water into her face. One of the pesky little dragons common to the Moonshaes was with her, hovering about like a worried nursemaid. Elated, Hobarth considered his options, and as he did his elation faded.
How was he to get her out of the grove when he could not enter it? He considered and discarded several simple options. He could not expect to charm the woman from the grove with magic. The druid, he sensed, would be very resistant to his spells upon the sacred ground of her teacher's grove. And he, or rather, Bhaal, wanted her alive; her blood must come fresh to the altar of his god. Thus, he could not use a baneful spell to kill her and another to lift her body out. No, he would need to use a more subtle tactic.
Hobarth absently stroked the black rock in his hand. His beady eyes gleamed from within their deep pouches of fat as he looked around for a suggestion.
Then he saw the body behind the druid, and an idea slowly formed in his brain. Yes, he smiled to himself. That body will do quite nicely. Praying reverently to his god, Hobarth concentrated on the corpse in the field. The young druid's back was to the body, as she once again knelt to splash her face. And then the sinister might of Bhaal – or was it the potent evil of the black rock? – flowed from the cleric, unnoticed by Robyn, to the still form. She was still kneeling as the body began to move.
* * * * *
"So you want to see the big city?" said Tavish, chuckling.
"Yes," explained Tristan, sticking to the story he had developed. "I've never even seen the island of Alaron. They say it's rather unlike Gwynneth – has more farms and people. And the city of Callidyrr and Caer Callidyrr itself – I want to see the most splendid palace of the Ffolk."
For a moment Tavish almost looked sad. "They are splendid works, indeed, but there is a way of looking at the splendor of your own kingdom – the untamed forests, the rocky highlands – that makes the wonders of Callidyrr pale by comparison. I prefer the earthiness of Corwell, myself."
"Do you travel the Isles much?" asked Daryth.
"Why, yes. Didn't I tell you I'm a bard?"
"No, you didn't," replied the prince. He was not surprised.
"Indeed I am. Not that I've visited Corwell recently – it's been a decade or more, I should say. I've spent a lot of time on Moray recently. Now there's a sad story…"
"What do you mean by that?" asked the prince.
"The king and several of his loyal lords have all been murdered in the past year. No one seems to know who's behind it; there's no lord trying to step into the vacancy. And who would