Black wizards - Douglas Niles [81]
"Why does the king attack you?" asked the prince.
"You mean, of course, why am I a bandit here in the forest?" Hugh snapped. Tristan shrugged.
"I was not always. Once, I was a lord – a loyal lord – of Callidyrr. My holdings were not great but prosperous enough. But the king decided my lands could be better administrated by one of his lackeys, a fellow his wizard had brought to him, I believe. He took my lands, my family – everything. It was only good fortune that I was out hunting at the time and did not fall into his net.
"I returned to find the king's troops in my house, and to learn that he had declared me an outlaw. My sister had been taken to Caer Callidyrr – I do not know even now if she is still alive – and I had no one else to care for but myself.
"If the king would brand me an outlaw,Idecided that an outlaw I would be. So here I am."
"How many lords has the king forced from their lands?" asked Tristan.
"Who knows?" shrugged Hugh. "Some have just disappeared; others have been murdered in the night. It is said that his assassins range across all the lands of the Ffolk, not just on Callidyrr"
"I have heard… about that too," said the prince. Then he decided to say more. Perhaps O'Roarke, in his apparent desire for vengeance, would help them.
"That is what brings us to Callidyrr. We seek to challenge the king and demand an explanation for what he has done!"
"You'll never get it" said Hugh. "The assassins are not the worst of the king's defenses."
"What do you mean?" said Pawldo, alarmed.
"Seven wizards have sworn loyalty to him. The mightiest of them, Cyndre, is a sorcerer with awesome powers."
"Nevertheless, we intend to try," said the prince.
O'Roarke looked at him with a strange intensity. Tristan could not read the emotions in the man's inscrutable face.
"Well," said Hugh O'Roarke, sounding vaguely amused. "We shall see about that, won't we?"
* * * * *
The gray wolves loped steadily through the long night. At last, panting and limping, they reached the stream that marked the border of the Great Druid's grove. Wearily, they flopped to the grassy bank. First Genna, then Robyn, changed shape.
The young druid lay on her back, enjoying the cushion of the soft grass. She felt better; her weariness, and the pain in her paws and haunches, had vanished with the canine body.
"Come, girl, there is much to be done," said Genna, quickly climbing to her feet. She stopped suddenly and turned to the younger woman.
"Thank you," she said quietly. "That was very brave of you. And you made the change more smoothly than any initiate I have ever taught. You have the capacity to do great work for the goddess – and I fear we shall need all of your strength now, and mine as well. Even then, I don't know if we can prevail."
Genna stepped into the stream and Robyn followed. She had to hurry to match her teacher's purposeful stride.
"That man," Robyn began. "Who, or what, was he? Why was he with the dead?"
"I don't know who he is. He must be a cleric of some powerful and very evil god, judging by his might."
"You mean that is his army?" Robyn suppressed a shudder.
"I think so. It was certainly his magic that dispelled my ring of fire. And he did that very easily."
"What can we do?" asked Robyn. She felt panic rising within her.
"Do? Why, my dear, we can fight!"
They emerged from the stream but did not waste time drying themselves off as they started into the grove. Robyn gasped in surprise as she saw a human figure standing beside one of the trees, but she relaxed when she realized it was another druid.
"Isolde, thank you," said Genna, clasping her friend in a firm hug. "I need your help, very badly."
"Of course, I came as soon as I got the message." Isolde was a powerful druid who tended Winterglen, a grove at the northern fringe of the Vale. She was tall and stern, with bright red hair that would not stay confined within her hood. "What is the emergency?"
"Come, I shall tell you as soon as we reach the Moonwell.
How many of the others are