Feathered Dragon - Douglas Niles [19]
“We want you to lead the expedition after him,” a prince finally offered. “We send you after our gold, and to learn Cordell’s fate. If he lives, you are to bring him back-in chains, if necessary.”
Another of the princes raised a golden bell, shaking it slightly to elicit a musical tinkling. In moments, the golden doors opened to reveal the courtier who had admitted Don Vaez.
“Summon Pryat Devane,” ordered the prince curtly.
In a few moments, the cleric entered, bowing first to the
princes and then to Don Vaez. The adventurer studied the short pryat. The clean-shaven priest wore a close-fitting cap of steel and a loose robe of fine silk. His hands were cloaked in the silver gauntlets of Helm.
“Pryat Devane was Bishou Domincus’s closest aide,” explained the prince.
“You’re the one who maintained contact with Domincus?” asked Don Vaez.
“Indeed, my lord. Every few weeks, through the conduit of our faith, the Bishou informed me of the progress of the mission. They made good progress for a time. They penetrated to the heart of the continent, to a city that was overflowing with gold. Then… silence.”
“That’s a mystery we’ll soon solve,” the captain said heartily, “You’ll be making the journey with me, I presume?”
“With my lord’s pleasure,” explained the pryat, with another bow.
“Of course!”
“I am sure you will find the pryat a useful addition to your expedition,” remarked one of the princes. “We have provided him with a small gift, that he may aid you more effectively-a flying carpet.”
Don Vaez nodded to the cleric and then bowed, more deeply than ever, to the council. Indeed, he could think of many uses for a cleric that could fly. As he turned from the masked princes, a sly smile toyed with his lips. The task pleased him-pleased him greatly-for Cordell had long eclipsed the Don’s own reputation as a loyal mercenary.
And to use Cordell’s own men against him! The irony did not escape Don Vaez. The Council of Six had granted him the opportunity of a lifetime! When he finished with it, he determined that his name would hold a high place in the annals of the Sword Coast.
* * * * *
Cordell shifted uncomfortably in his saddle. He had always been a hard campaigner, but never had he pushed himself as hard as in the last months, since the escape from Nexal. Now there was no part of his body that did not ache, throb, or cry out from fatigue, hunger, or thirst.
He looked across the vast encampment. His own legionnaires, the hundred and fifty that still survived, spread in a ring around him. working at polishing and sharpening weapons, oiling tattered boots, or sewing plates of armor together where the desert heat had rotted worn straps.
Six of the men, led by young Captain Grimes, rode patrol in the desert They needed more scouts, but only fifteen horses remained to the legion-fifteen horses in all the True World-and the unfortunate steeds all were near total exhaustion.
So were the men, for that matter, he realized. Now his legionnaires the remnants of his once valiant force, fled alongside their former enemies, the Nexala. The greater enemy of the monstrous horde menaced both groups equally He realized with bitter irony that the gold of Nexal had also been lost There was no longer any reason to make war with the Mazticans.
One bright spot in the months of flight and disaster had been the loyalty of the Maztican warriors from the nation of Kultaka. when he had first entered that nation on his march inland Kultaka had resisted his legion furiously Following Cordell’s victory, however, the young Kultakan chief, Tokol, had become his most staunch ally Now some six thousand Kultaka warriors marched alongside the Nexalans and the legionnaires. The ancient rivalry-hatred, in reality-between Kultaka and Nexal had been temporarily subordinated to the pressing need to escape the monstrous horde that threatened them all.
Nearby Cordell saw Captain Daggrande, the doughty dwarven captain of the crossbow, talking with a small cluster of Maztican archers. Daggrande was one of three dozen dwarves