Black wizards - Douglas Niles [54]
And still Hobarth's army rose from the earth.
VIII
The Crystals of Thay
Wide-eyed, Pawldo watched from the shadows as Tristan, Daryth, and another prisoner were prodded through the door of The Diving Dolphin. He kept one hand on the neck of the moorhound. One of the brutes cuffed the prince roughly, and Canthus growled, deep within his cavernous chest. Pawldo pressed reassuringly against the bristling neck and whispered soothing sounds into the dog's ear.
In another moment the prisoners had been shoved down the stairway, and their escort moved them quickly up the street. Soon the captives disappeared into the night.
Another dozen ogres remained around the inn, staring belligerently through the doors and windows. They poked curiously at anyone who attempted to enter or leave. Finally the ogres grew bored and moved on, but the halfling remained still for several minutes. As the customers began filtering out of the inn, he stood up and dusted himself off.
Pawldo had some things to do. He found some old rags and quickly repacked his duffel, burying each of the Crystals of Thay in several layers of cushioning cloth. Next he pulled out a sturdy leather tunic that fit snugly over his shoulders. Lastly he took a slim blade and girded it to his waist. That blade, no more than a long dagger to a man, had sipped the lifeblood of more than one foe.
Finally he turned again to the moorhound, who had lain motionless while he completed his preparations. "Tristan?" said Pawldo, inclining his head to the street.
The huge dog instantly sprang to his feet and bounded from the entryway, pausing only to give the dirt road a cursory sniff. He trotted in the direction the ogres had taken, and Pawldo had to jog in order to keep up.
Canthus, for his part, loped as quietly as a shadow through the streets of Llewellyn. The dog's path carried them to the fringes of the town. He circled anxiously for several minutes at an intersection, allowing Pawldo to catch his breath while the dog sought his master's spoor. Finally he picked up the trail again, turning to the left and bounding up a gradual hill. Pawldo followed him, still puffing.
Suddenly the dog darted toward a gatehouse in a high wall that ran several feet back from the street. A huge ogre stood carelessly within the gatehouse.
"No!" Pawldo hissed, pulling the huge dog aside just a moment before he would have reached the circle of light created by the ogre's torch. "This way," he whispered, sprinting away from the gatehouse and cutting sharply into a lane that ran along the property. Here he found a large oak tree. No gardener had removed the lower branches. The halfling found a nearby clump of bushes and ordered Canthus to lie there, hidden from casual view. Pawldo then had no difficulty scampering up the knotty bole until he reached a point where he could see over the wall.
He saw a huge manor house within the yard, surrounded by formal gardens and placid pools. Several ogres wandered around, patrolling the area.
Somewhere in there was the Prince of Corwell.
* * * * *
"It's about time you woke up!" Pontswain's biting tone blasted through Tristan's weariness.
The prince sat up awkwardly, trying to ignore the heavy manacles that bound his hands and restricted his movement. His head pounded. Daryth, similarly restrained, looked at him morosely.
"What happened?" groaned the prince.
"You don't remember?" Pontswain stalked from the barred window to stand before the prince. Tristan sat on a hard bunk and looked up at the lord in anger and chagrin.
"Of course I remember what happened!" he snapped. "I mean, how did the guards know