The Vacant Throne - Ed Greenwood [81]
It made a perfect hideaway, and the magics he'd cached here over the years would sustain him, let him replace his missing hand and banish his burns, weariness, and pain-and give him shelter. He was surprised to find that keeping hidden seemed suddenly attractive.
Prudence was not a force that Huldaerus, the Master of Bats, had hitherto allowed to govern or even feature prominently in his life. Yet he was willing-even eager-to give in to it now, lying low for the nonce and using spells to spy on the land around.
"I'll just sit here," he told the stone seat inside the door, "watching history unfold, and await the right moment to charge forth and seize whatever advantage might present itself-after the others have had a good time slaying each other."
The stone seat did not reply, so the wizard sat down on it, put his feet up on the end of the tomb, and started awaiting.
There was a sudden flash of light from around the bend in the road before them.
"Magic!" Hawkril snapped. "Craer? Craer!"
The procurer had been scouting ahead, keeping to the trees. Three above! If some lurking-
The armaragor went around the bend in a fury, running hard with Embra's shout to halt ringing unheeded in his ears. If anything had befallen his old friend…
The land before his eyes had been scorched by a storm-fire some years back; a hill or two stood bare of trees, cloaked with naught but tall grass and creepers and thornbushes. They might have afforded hiding for a skilled procurer seeking to crawl and lurk unseen, but not armsmen or a wizard, or-
A bewildered boy, standing alone in the road with a few fading, shimmering motes of light drifting around him. A handsome, almost lass-beautiful lad with great dark eyes, now frowning in puzzlement, who wore well-made boots and hose, topped with a tabard such as bards wear.
"You!" Hawkril snapped. "What have you-ah, boy, did you see a man here, just now? About your height, in leathers? He'd have had a sword in his hand, or daggers… "
His voice trailed away as the boy shook his head, fear and wonder warring in those great dark eyes, and asked, "W-Who are you, sir? And where-what is this place?"
The lad was staring around at the road and burn-scarred hills and trees as if he'd never been outside a house before. Hawkril looked hard at him, and his fine clothes. All right, make that a castle.
"My name is Hawkril," he said curtly, peering everywhere for some trace of Craer. "Yours?"
"Raulin, sir. Raulin Tilbar Castlecloaks. My father was the bard Helgrym Castlecloaks."
Hawkril's only reply was a grunt, but there was respect in his eyes as he glared at the boy, and Raulin recognized it. He tried a wavering smile at the glowering armaragor.
Almost reluctantly Hawkril lowered his blade, as Sarasper and Embra came up on either side of him. "How came you here, lad?" he asked.
"Dwaer-magic," Embra said a little grimly, before the boy could reply. "I know its feel now. That's what I was trying to tell you, Hawk."
Sarasper eyed the boy narrowly. "A breath or two ago you were in the palace, am I right?"
Raulin nodded, almost eagerly. "Yes," he said, "and then… then I was just-" he shrugged, and turned slowly to look behind him, pivoting around to face them again "-here."
The old healer looked at Embra, and they nodded in grim unison. "And at the same time, Craer was taken there-or somewhere."
Hawkril gave them a dark look. "Snatched again? Three above, if I lay hands on whoever's playing with those Dwaer-"
"You'll be trampled in the charge of everyone else who wants to do him harm," Embra said ruefully, "or just wants to relieve him of the Stones." Her eyes finished their slow appraisal of the boy standing in the road in front of them, and saw that he'd begun to blush under her scrutiny.
"Raulin," she said, "Sarasper's going to work a little magic on you; if you are what you seem to be, it'll do no harm, and you'll feel nothing. The son of Helgrym Castlecloaks is welcome with us, though we seem to wear danger like a cloak these days. Will you walk with us?"
"Of course," the boy said,