Black wizards - Douglas Niles [71]
Robyn sensed the command in her teacher's words, but that command was not necessary. She knew where her duty lay, and she nodded in response. There was nothing else that she could do.
* * * * *
The patriarch's map proved invaluable as the black horses carried the riders through the night. They alternated mounts frequently, allowing two of the steeds to run free while the others carried Tristan, Daryth, Pontswain, and Pawldo. Keeping the mounts fresh, they made excellent time.
The hours in the saddle wore heavily on Tristan, however, as the pain of his wound grew into a throbbing ache across his entire back. He said nothing, fearing that his companions would slow their pace, but he was nonetheless relieved as dawn approached and they began to look for a place to hide during the day.
There were few likely spots along the winding country lanes. Alaron – at least, this portion of it – seemed devoid of wilderness, or even of large tracts of forested land. They eventually left the road, riding across several fields and crossing numerous stone fences before finding a little clump of woods in a secluded hollow. Here they dismounted, ate some of the bread and fruit that the cleric had sent with them, and prepared to rest.
Pawldo left the three men to fill his watersack in a nearby stream, and they sat quietly for a time.
"I suppose you've realized that our original mission no longer has much relevance," said Pontswain, lounging.
Tristan looked at him suspiciously. He could not help but suspect the lord's motives, but he nodded now. "Indeed, there's not much point in petitioning approval from a man who has ordered me arrested and killed."
"Then let's go back to Corwell and leave this madhouse to its inmates!" said the lord. "What can you hope to accomplish here?"
"I can gain a measure of vengeance for my father's death! I can force the king to admit his crimes against the Ffolk – perhaps even to make some of them right again!"
"You're mad! He's tried to have you killed already! Now you want to travel to his very stronghold and tell him you don't like what he's done? You don't have a chance!"
"On the contrary, I think I have a good chance. We have avoided his pitfalls thus far. And besides, I have to try something! I cannot let my father's death go unavenged!"
"Your foolish vengeance will get us all killed!"
"You are free to return to Corwell whenever you want. We can go on without you," Tristan challenged. Pontswain slumped silently, scowling.
Pawldo returned with a dripping goatskin of water and passed the bag around. Silently, they drank, as the halfling flopped to the ground beside them.
"How do you propose to gain entrance into the castle?" asked Daryth as they settled into their makeshift beds.
"I don't know," admitted the prince. "But if there's always a way to escape from a place, as you've told me, then it follows that there's always a way to get in."
"The opposite of escape is capture" announced Pawldo.
"We have to get there before we worry about getting in," observed the Calishite. "And from the looks of this country that's far from guaranteed, especially if there are troops out looking for us."
"On the other hand, the troops of the High King seem to be none too popular in this part of the country, if the Ffolk in The Diving Dolphin or the cleric Trevor are any indication," said Tristan.
"Still, let's try and stay hidden," warned the halfling. "I don't want to have to rescue you again!"
"I've been meaning to ask you about that," said the prince. "How did you pull that off – distracting the ogres?"
Pawldo chuckled, not a little proud. He told the story of the assassins in the tree and his entry into the manor house. For once, he embellished the details only slightly.
"It was our good fortune to have a friend like you lurking in the shadows," laughed the prince. Pawldo grinned, enjoying the praise.
"Now tell me," asked