Treasures of Fantasy - Margaret Weis [163]
“Yes, there is,” said Skylan. “You saw the spiritbone Treia used to summon the Dragon Kahg. The Priest-General has one of these spiritbones hidden away. If we can find the spiritbone, we can save the city.”
Skylan was not lying. He wasn’t telling all the truth, but he trusted Torval would forgive him.
“The Bone Priestess can summon the dragon to fight for us?” said Acronis, amazed.
“But why would she?” Zahakis asked.
“Because it’s the only way to save my people as well as yours,” said Skylan. He didn’t want them thinking about this too much and finding the holes in his story. He hurried on. “We don’t have much time. The Priest-General thinks the ogres will wait for dawn to attack, but Keeper says that with the full moon to light their way, they will enter the gates as soon as their army is assembled. We need to reach the Temple grounds and gain entrace to find the spiritbone—”
“You can do that, Legate,” said Zahakis. “They will let you in without question. I’m going to defend the city. I know where to look for the men, sir. And there are the street gangs. Most of them are better armed than our soldiers and they know how to fight.”
“A good plan,” said Acronis. “Go carry it out.”
Zahakis saluted and started off.
“One more thing—” Acronis called after him.
“Sir?” Zahakis turned.
“I have named you my heir,” said Acronis. “All this is yours.”
Zahakis stared, dumbfounded. Then he shook his head. “No, sir. It’s not right—”
Acronis turned and strode off, not looking behind him. Skylan was left with Zahakis, who was still staring after Acronis.
Zahakis roused himself. “Take care of the Legate. He means to get himself killed this night.”
“We’ll be lucky if any of us survive,” said Skylan. The two walked out the door together.
Zahakis clapped Skylan on the shoulder. “Good fortune to you and those barbaric gods of yours.”
“I still plan to kill you myself someday,” Skylan said, grinning. “Don’t let the ogres rob me of my victory.”
Zahakis smiled and shook his head. Mounting one of the horses abandoned by the guards, he wheeled it around and galloped off.
Skylan had told Keeper to bring the horses around to the front. They should be here by now. Just as he was thinking he should go find them, he heard hoofbeats outside the entrance to the villa.
Keeper was seated on an enormous draft horse, and led another horse for Skylan. Aylaen rode at the ogre’s side wearing the armor of one of Acronis’s soldiers. Her face was concealed by the wings of the helm that fit closely to her cheeks. Hinged plates fit over her shoulders and her chest. The leather skirt with metal strips was too big and sagged at the waist. She wore braces on her arms and greaves on her shins. An ecstatic Wulfe rode behind her, his arms around her.
Keeper tossed a bundle to Skylan. It landed at his feet with a clanking sound. He ripped it open and began putting on the segmented armor, the leather skirt, and the winged helm. His hands were shaking with nervous excitement. Keeper dismounted and came to his aid.
“The Legate has agreed to help us,” Skylan said as Keeper assisted him with the armor.
“You are putting a lot of trust in a man who enslaved us,” Aylaen said, frowning.
“He is a man of his word,” said Skylan. “And he has no love for Aelon.”
Skylan mounted the horse. He looked around the villa, the grounds, the hills that fell away from him leading down to the river, and far beyond that, the sea. He stared intently at the bay, trying to see the ogre fleet. All he could see was a flat surface silvered in the moonlight. The ogre ships would look like black bugs crawling over the water. No sign of them yet. He could see the watchtowers silhouetted against the water.
Would the men in those towers light signal fires when the ships were sighted? Send swift runners to the palace? Whatever they did,