engorged on victory. They bore between them a litter on which lay the body of a human male. The wizard, seeing the litter, cursed.
The goblin chief shoved past his men, looked around the forest. 'Wizard? Show yourself! Make haste! I want my money!'
Akar stalked out of the woods. Ignoring the chief, he strode over to the litter, which the goblins had dropped on the ground. The young man on the litter groaned in pain. He was conscious, though he seemed to have little idea what was happening to him. He looked up at the wizard with dazed puzzlement.
Akar regarded him coldly.
''What's this?' he demanded. 'What have you brought me?'
'A Knight of Solamnia. They stripped him of his armor.' The goblin sounded bitter. He could have used that armor.
'Bah! He's too young to be a knight. Even if I believed you, the man is wounded, near dying! What use is he to me in this state?'
'Lucky you are to have him in any state!' hissed the goblin. 'Did you expect us to take a Knight of Solamnia without a fight?'
Akar bent over the young man. Roughly, he lifted the blood-soaked bandages wrapped tightly around the abdomen, peered at the wound. The man cried out in agony, clenched his fists. A ring flashed in the light. Akar grasped it, stared at it, grunted in satisfaction.
'Well, well. You are a knight.'
'What do you want of me?' the wounded man managed to gasp.
Akar ignored him. He felt for the lifebeat in the neck, noted the fever burning the blood. The wizard sat back on his haunches.
'He won't last another hour.'
'I suggest you do what you must do with him quickly, then,' advised the chief.
'Impossible. I need him alive all night.'
'Oh? I suppose now you'll want us to go out and capture you a cleric?' The goblin chief sneered.
'It would do no good. No cleric you would find this night on Krynn could heal him.'
The goblin chief gestured. 'Then you take care of him. You're a wizard, after all. I suppose your magic's good for something. Pay us what you owe us and let us be gone. We plan to make something out of this deal. The castle was picked clean before we got there. Not a woman to be had.'
The knight cried out, struggled to rise. His hand went for his sword, but it was no longer at his side.
'Save your strength.' Akar shoved the knight back down. The wizard stood up. He was in a better mood, almost smiling. 'Here's your pay.' He tossed a few gold coins at the goblin chief.
The chief found this sudden change in the wizard suspicious, apparently, for he eyed the money dubiously. 'You pick it up,' he ordered one of his cohorts, who did as he was told.
The goblins slunk back to their looting, their chief keeping a careful eye on his man who held the wizard's money.
Akar turned to the knight, who lay still and silent, fighting against the pain, refusing to show weakness.
'What do you want of me?' he repeated hoarsely.
'This night, I must spill the blood of a good and true person on the bridge of the Lost Citadel. You have the misfortune to be, Sir Knight, a good and true person. At least that's what your people say of you. Something of a rarity these days, I must admit. Don't trouble yourself over the how and why, but, with your murder, the clerics of Her Dark Majesty will at last be able to return to this world.'
The knight smiled. 'I am dying. I will not live long enough to be of use to you, thanks be to Paladine.'
'Ah, now. Don't give up hope. My magic is good for something. I cannot heal you, Sir Knight. Nor do I necessarily want you healed. You would, I fancy, prove a most troublesome captive. Yet you will remain alive until I can transport you to the Lost Citadel.
'A wish spell will accomplish what I want. Yes, a wish will do nicely. The spell will cost me a year of my life.' The wizard shrugged. 'But what is that? When I have the power of the great Fistandantilus, I will gain that year back, with interest!'
Akar lifted his hands, gazed up at the sky, to the black moon, Nuitari, the moon that only those with the vision of darkness can see.
'My wish is thus: Let the knight remain alive until he meets death at the point of this dagger.' Akar removed the dagger from its sheath at his belt, held it up to the sky. The metal darkened, as if a shadow fell across it, then it flashed with a terrible, unholy light.
'My wish is granted!' Akar said in satisfaction.
'No! Paladine, forfend! Take my life! Kill me now!'
The young knight struggled to his feet. Ripping the bandages from his wound, starting the blood flowing freely, he lurched across the clearing, heading toward the forest.
Akar made no move, watched calmly.
Nicholas fell to his knees. His lifeblood flowed from him. He stared at it, watched it soak into the ground. The pain was intense, excruciating. He doubled over, cried out to die.
Death did not come. Nicholas lay in his own blood, writhing in agony.
Akar whistled. A horse as black as goblin's blood — which was, indeed, the steed's name — cantered into the clearing, drawing behind it a small wooden cart. The wizard grasped hold of the knight by the shoulders, dragged him across the bloody grass to the cart, and heaved him up into it. Removing a length of rope from the cart, Akar bound the suffering knight's hands and feet securely.
'Not that I think you're in any shape to do me harm,' said Akar. 'But you're a tough breed, you knights. I'm sorry I can do nothing to ease the pain. But, look at it this way. After a few hours of agony, you'll be more than ready to die. Try not to groan too loudly. Foul creatures roam the countryside these days. And now, to find the Lost Citadel.'
Akar mounted the cart, lifted the reins in his hands. Once again he gazed up at the sky. As he watched, a shadow crossed the sun, like the moon eclipsing it, but it was a shadow only he could see. He stared at it, squinting against the sunlight, until he found what he sought.
The shadow extended downward from the sun, formed a shaft of darkness that pierced the daylight. Whatever that shadow touched instantly burst into flame. Fire roared through the forest. Smoke, foul and poisonous, hung in the air. Akar sniffed its perfume. Behind him, he heard the knight choke and retch.
When the smoke dissipated, blown aside by a deathcold wind, Akar saw that a trail had been burned among charred trees, a trail of blackness, a trail of night in day.
'Nuitari be blessed,' said Akar.
Slapping the reins on the horses back, he drove the cart onto the shadow-shrouded path.
Part V
The goblins' trail was easy for Michael and Nikol to follow… too easy. The army had cut a swath of destruction through the forest surrounding the burned and gutted castle. Their numbers were strong; they had no need to hide or conceal the path that led back to their lair in the mountains. They feared no retribution. Neighboring knights, in neighboring manors, had their own lands and people to consider.
Michael stared in dismay at the broken trees, the trampled brush, the bodies of dead goblins, who, wounded, had been left behind by their loutish comrades. Nikol roamed the path, her gaze fixed on the ground, searching for any clue of her brother.
'My lady, if they did take him, what chance do you have of rescuing him? There must be… hundreds of them!' Michael waved his hand at the destruction.
'Then at least I will have the comfort of dying with him,' Nikol returned. Straightening, she brushed her hair back out of her eyes. 'You knew what we faced. I warned you this morning.'
Michael didn't want to be reminded of the morning. The two had awakened, clasped in each others arms. Confused and embarrassed, each of them kept the other well at a distance. He meant to tell her, then, that he was
