The Kingless Land - Ed Greenwood [85]
Markoun stared openmouthed at his employer, the blood slowly draining from his face. His mouth worked, but for the moment he could think of no words to say. It was so cunning, so utterly, horribly…
"Brilliant, is it not?" Faerod Silvertree said jovially, waving his maidens away and reaching for a decanter of wine. "You must learn to think thus, and be shocked by unfolding plots no more. Our Spellmaster saw every step of it at the same time I did, when we went up against Blackgult." He nodded his head again in the direction of Ingryl Ambelter.
Markoun looked to the Spellmaster and saw that Ingryl had turned away from the flickering radiances of the spell he was crafting to favor Markoun with a smile. It as a bland and unreadable smile-and it did not reach Ingryl Ambelter's eyes.
Embra's still and silent body was shaken by a sudden spasm, and Craer shouted in alarm. Sarasper and Hawkril came crashing back through the trees from the riverbank, where the healer had been restoring something of the warrior's strength.
By the time they reached the dell with its dying fire, the Lady Silvertree was awake at last, and sitting up with her fingers over her eyes, shaking away the procurer's attempts to hold her still.
"My eyes, Craer!" she was hissing. "They burn! They burn!"
"The flames on the boat? Can you see?" the procurer asked, cradling her shoulders as she shook herself and restlessly tried to rise.
"Yes, yes, but-the pain! Just now, out of nowhere! Ah! Ah, it eases…"
Hawkril looked grimly at Sarasper. "Can we have a little healing?"
The older man was frowning, his eyes narrowed. "If 'twill do any good… this seems to me more like a spell from afar. Lady? Can you see?"
Embra snatched her hands away and glared at him. "Yes," she snarled. "Open or shut, my eyes feel like hot coals in my head! Graul and bebolt! It has to be some magic sent by my father's mages!"
Hawkril loomed over her like an attentive mountain. "Should Sarasper try to banish i-"
"If it goes on and on until I can't take it," Embra snarled, "yes. I'll need to sleep, for one thing. But… not yet."
She growled, shook herself all over, and said suddenly, "I've been in the river… the boat. By the Three!" She looked wildly around. "All of you-whole? Unhurt?"
"Just as you see us. Everything else… boat, crew, all of our carryings… gone," Hawkril growled. "We've been arguing about where we go now."
Embra smiled thinly. "Away."
Sarasper said gently, "My fear was that the quest would be forgotten in the haste to flee the hand of your father, but Craer and Hawkril hold to another view. 'Tis only fair, Lady, to hear your thoughts…"
The sorceress turned her head. "We do owe Sarasper our aid," she reminded the men of Blackgult. "If we are to be any better than my father, our promises must mean something."
"Neither of us want to forget our promises," Craer said smoothly, "but we daren't chase after them and do nothing else, or whenever the fancy takes him your father can cry news of a Dwaer and hold out his hand to snatch us when we come running."
Embra nodded. "That's-aaaahhh!"
The three men leaned forward as one. "Lady?"
Embra's hands were at her eyes again. "No, no," she murmured weakly. "The pain is gone." She lifted her head again. "Magic," she confirmed, looking at Sarasper. "You see why we must do more than chase enchanted Stones, no matter how much I'd like to hold one when next I must face my father's mages?"
The healer nodded, face somber, but the sorceress was already turning to Craer and Hawkril again. "Yet think, both of you: we might well be able to help our friend gain a Stone easily if we act the moment we have any hint of where one might lie."
As they nodded, another thought struck her. "How far are we from Sirlptar?"
Everyone looked at Hawkril, who rumbled, "We went on the rocks on the west side of the Gullet, the narrowing below Glarondpool, and are a bend below that now-a day or two of steady travel, if we meet