Fistandantilus Reborn - Douglas Niles [100]
The corridor had been illuminated by only a pair of candles before, but now a dozen or more torches burned in sconces spaced along each of the walls. The youth didn’t see any of the other bandits, but he heard shouts from outside; he could only hope that Emilo, at least, had gotten to a place of safety. With a grimace of heartache, he wondered again what had become of Foryth.
“These depict great moments in the history of my temple,” the would-be priest declared, gesturing toward the long strands of fabric. The artistry might once have been splendid, but the bright colors had faded, and the fringes of the tapestry were tattered and moth-eaten.
His hands still stretched over his head, Danyal couldry t have been less interested in the soot-blackened banners. Yet as he flexed his numbing fingers, trying to think of something, anything, useful to do, he suddenly had the flash of an idea.
“That picture,” said the lad, pointing toward the nearest tapestry. He stepped right up to it, vaguely discerning a crowd scene and a depiction of a large square edifice. “What is it?”
“The tapestry displays the laying of our temple in Haven’s outer wall.”
Kelryn spoke with animation and interest. “You see? There I stand to oversee the work.”
The man stepped up to the embroidered illustration, indicating a figure outlined in green light, standing like a rod atop a small pyramid of square stone blocks. The Seeker priest stared admiringly at the handiwork, and the lad sensed that the man’s attention and desire had shifted momentarily, coming to rest in his reminiscences of those days of glory.
Dan saw his chance. Hands still upraised, he seized the edge of the tapestry and threw himself backward, instantly hurling all his weight and momentum onto the support of the ancient fabric.
Please give way! His prayer was desperate and, apparently, successful:
The long swath of cloth tore near the top, and a great, dusty shroud tumbled downward, burying Kelryn Darewind, his sword, and his green bloodstone.
As soon as the bandit lord disappeared, Dan felt his arms drop, freed from the spell as the green light was smothered. Instantly he had the dagger out, ready to slash at the form that struggled beneath the billowing layers of the tapestry.
“Danyal-this way! Hurry!” Mirabeth took his arm and pulled before he could make his attack. He heard footsteps and saw the flaring of bright torchlight from the direction of the kitchen.
Groaning in frustration but recognizing the need to flee immediately, Danyal followed the lass as she darted through the entry hall. The manor gates, he was surprised to see, were standing open. Torches flared among the crude cottages of the village, and he guessed that some of the men, alarmed by Emilo’s diversion, must have charged out of the fortified structure to investigate.
And then the two of them were through the gates, plunging down the sloping ground beyond the wall. With a sharp turn away from the road to the bridge, Danyal pulled Mirabeth into the deep shade of a small barn.
Panting, trying to breathe as quietly as possible, he looked around, assessing their surroundings.
But he wasn’t expecting to see anyone as close as the figure who rose to stand right beside him.
With a reflexive twist, Dan raised his knife, pushed Mirabeth aside, and stabbed.
CHAPTER 35
Escape or Doom Second Kirinor, Reapember
374 AC
“Wait!” The familiar voice jolted Danyal, giving the lad barely enough time to check the deadly blow he had intended to land.
“Emilo?” Danyal sagged backward, allowing the dagger to fall away from the shadowy figure. “I-I almost didn’t recognize you! You could have-I could have…”
“Don’t worry. It’s me, and I’m all right. I see you heard my diversion.
Oh, and hi, Mirabeth!” declared the kender. “I’m really glad to see you!”
“Thanks-thanks to all of you-for coming after me,” she replied. But then she looked around, seeking someone else in their hiding place, which was the shadowy alcove behind a small barn. “Where