Pools of Darkness - James M Brown [70]
"Ignoring the fact that no one has the right to steal a city, where exactly are we?" Tarl asked.
The wizard turned to the riders, irritated. From the glare in his eyes, he clearly found them unworthy of his audience. "You are in a great cavern beneath my red tower. You are still in Faerun-at least physically. You may take my generous offer to leave safely or you may die. Now be gone."
Thorvid raised his battle-axe. "Why, you arrogant son of-" Tarl seized the knight's arm, even as he struggled to contain his own anger. Taking a deep breath, Tarl addressed the wizard.
"Before I take your offer back to my people for discussion, I would like to see how we'll get out of this cavern. And I need your guarantee of safety for the people of Phlan."
"Why, of course. Your wish is reasonable. You won't be able to take your horses up my stairs, but do come along." The wizard floated on puffs of red flame down a wide trail between the trees.
Tightening their grips on their weapons, the four warriors fought to control their skittish mounts as they rode behind the wizard.
After perhaps fifty yards, the forest opened up at the side of the cavern. A section of the cave wall melted away in a red mist, revealing a wide staircase spiraling upward.
"Only you, priest, need to see the exit out of my tower. Send the rest of your rabble back to the city."
"Where our lord goes, we follow," Pomanz declared, keeping a wary eye for signs of any trap.
To keep the peace, Tarl was about to agree with the Red Wizard's request, but the wizard suddenly flew into a rage. He fairly bellowed at the four men.
"Knight, know that I am Marcus, a mage of extraordinary power. You are nothing compared to my might. You will do as I say or I will destroy you." The wizard produced a sparking, popping ball of crimson energy in his right hand. His red robes writhed about him.
"There will be no combat. We are under flags of parley. Surely, even the Red Wizards of Thay recognize such conventions of war."
"Oh, we recognize them all right. This is our answer to such knightly foolishness." A wave of his left hand caused the two white flags to ignite and crumble to ash.
"Wizard, you go too far!" Tarl shouted, raising his glowing hammer.
Another wave of the mage's hand caused the ground to rumble underfoot. "No! I have not gone nearly far enough! You can all meet my pool of darkness or face my thorny horrors in the forest. There is no surrender and no escape. My pit fiend was stupid to think I could get anything from you this way. Good-bye."
The wizard blinked out in a blast of red flame.
"Something's happening behind us!" Thorvid shouted.
The forest was writhing and shifting. Every tree was becoming a horribly twisted parody of a human. Tree limbs turned into giant arms; roots heaved from the ground, growing into huge legs; trunks twisted with loud groans into massive, pulsing chests and heads.
Tarl hurriedly searched for an escape. They could go up the stairs into the darkness and whatever trap Marcus had prepared, or they could meet the tree monsters head on.
"Tarl!" Pomanz pointed to the right.
The mystical light in the cavern showed a narrow path through the forest. The companions spurred their mounts into the narrow gap between the trees and the edge of the cavern.
A mile-wide swath of groaning, twisting trees slowly encroached on the path at the cavern wall, squeezing it tighter and tighter. The warriors threw aside lances and equipment to lighten the loads on the galloping horses, but each man could see they weren't moving fast enough to escape. Tarl led the charge toward the perimeter. "This would be a good time, Shal!" he screamed.
Back in the red tower, Marcus and the pit fiend watched the wild ride from a crystal scrying sphere.
"If she's coming to save them, your trees won't be able to stop the cleric and his friends. Latenat!"
"I know, but maybe the minions of Moander can kill one or two of them. Look-his hammer isn't even bruising the bark. Moander