Treasures of Fantasy - Margaret Weis [164]
I will never see this place again, Skylan thought. I was brought here in chains, a slave. And now I might die trying to save the very people who enslaved me.
Acronis came out of the villa, resplendent in his ceremonial armor. He wore the purple cape of a Legate thrown over his shoulder, his sword at his side. He was about to mount the horse of one of the men who had tried to kill him when he saw Keeper. Acronis blinked at him in astonishment.
“What are you doing here?”
“I am sorry for your loss, Legate,” said Keeper. “I fear many more children will die this night unless we can stop this madness.”
“Yes,” said Acronis quietly. “You are right.”
He motioned for his “escort” to fall in behind him. They kicked their heels into their horses’ flanks and galloped down the highway.
They had not ridden far, however, when Aylaen reined in her horse.
“Skylan!” she cried. “Look! Look at our ship!”
At first Skylan could see nothing out of the ordinary. The Venjekar floated on an ocean of silvery grass that rippled in the wind, mocking the waves on which the ship should have been riding. Skylan fondly traced the ship’s graceful lines, from the stern to the curve of the neck, the dragon’s proud head, the burning red eyes.
Eyes that glared triumphantly.
“Kahg has come back!” Skylan breathed.
“Has he?” Wulfe asked eagerly, and he raised himself up on the horse’s rump to see. The next moment, he burst into tears and buried his face in his hands. The moment after that, he began fumbling beneath his shirt.
“Here! Take it!” he cried.
He pulled out the spiritbone and, still blubbering, thrust it into Aylaen’s hands.
She stared at it, then shook her head. “The dragon brought this to you, Wulfe.”
“Kahg wants you to have it,” said Wulfe. “I was only keeping it safe.”
“You must keep it safe for a little longer,” Aylaen told him. “Take it back to the ship. Tell Sigurd you found it.”
“Sigurd hates me,” said Wulfe.
“If you show him the spiritbone, he will love you like a son,” Skylan said. He added, more seriously, “I’m trusting you with this, Wulfe. We need the dragon to escape.”
“You’re trusting me,” Wulfe said. Tears flooded his cheeks. He blinked his eyes furiously and slid off the back of the horse. He clutched the spiritbone in a grimy hand. “No ogre will get this. I promise.”
He ran off down the hill, yelling over his shoulder, “If one tries, I’ll rip out his throat!”
Skylan and Aylaen sat on their horses, watching Wulfe bound on all fours through the grass.
“Do you think the Dragon Kahg brought us to this place?” Aylaen asked softly.
Skylan would have liked to say yes, to blame this fate on someone else: dragon, gods. But he had promised Torval there would be no more lies.
“My folly brought us here,” said Skylan. He smiled reassuringly at her and added, “But the dragon can damn well get us home!”
They rode off. If they had waited a moment longer, they would have seen the first ships of the ogre fleet sail into the harbor. The city of Sinaria now lay dreaming, but she would soon wake to a nightmare.
CHAPTER
14
* * *
BOOK THREE
Acronis wended his way confidently through the maze of streets in which Skylan would have soon been hopelessly lost. A few carts and wagons were out making their nightly deliveries. Men had no need for torches; the bright moon reflecting off the white pavement outshone the light of Aelon that beamed from the dome of his shrine. Skylan thought once he caught sight of Zahakis entering a tavern, but they rode past too quickly for him to tell for certain. He forgot about Zahakis and concentrated on his own problems, which were numerous enough. Skylan had to talk to his dead friend.
As for Zahakis, he was going from tavern to tavern, spreading the news of the invasion and rounding up his men. He sent some home to fetch weapons and armor and to warn their families. Others had their weapons with them, and they swarmed out into the streets, commandeering the wagons and carts, turning them over in the street, and using