He Came around the side of its swaying neck and saw the first chain on the floor. Then it seemed to him as if everything was happening in a dreamlike fog, his own motions slow, so slow! He gathered up the chain and leaped for the spirit shaggoth's back, planting one foot on the bony ridge separating the outer segments from that glowing orange stripe. Midalis didn't even consider the plain good luck that kept his foot securely in place, for to slip here and fall upon that superheated back would have melted the skin from his bones! Nor did he even consider his next motion, but quickly swung his free leg over that glowing stripe and planted his foot on the opposite bony ridge, then reached down low and scooped up the other chain.
Then he saw the many bones littering the chamber-whitened skulls and charred leg bones-and the Prince nearly froze in horror.
But he growled away his fear. In a moment, he was standing straight, holding the chains, frantically taking up the slack.
The spirit shaggoth turned suddenly to the left and reared even higher; and Midalis, thrown off balance, fell forward and just managed to throw his arm out and stop himself, his chest and face barely an inch from the glowing stripe.
He realized that Bruinhelde was moving, heading for a side exit, holding forth Towalloko, luring the creature out.
They went down a corridor and came out on a long, snow-covered ledge, with a thousand-foot drop to Midalis' left and a towering cliff face to his right. Now Bruinhelde scrambled out of the way, and Midalis was on his own.
Immediately, the spirit shaggoth began to tug and buck, but Midalis held the reins, keeping the creature's head high.
The Prince heard the wind in his ears as the creature ran down the length of the ridge, scattering the snow from the rock, its hundred feet clacking on the stone. At the far end, the Prince tugged hard on the right rein, bringing the creature around in a dizzying turn, and before he had even oriented himself, he discovered that they were almost back to Bruinhelde.
Now the barbarian put up Towalloko again, entrancing the creature. Prince Midalis found getting off the beast was even more trying than getting on, out here in the wind, where one slip could burn his leg or send him flying to his death.
He managed it somehow and went to Bruinhelde, taking Towalloko, keeping the mesmerizing rainbow working.
He retreated into the creature's chamber as Bruinhelde rode the beast the length of the precipice and back again, and was ready to catch the creature's attention and hold it as the barbarian dismounted and joined him. But of breath, hardly believing what they had just done, the pair slowly backed toward the chimney.
Without warning, the candle went out; the mesmerizing rainbow hues were no more.
Midalis knew beyond doubt that the creature would strike at Bruinhelde. He knew, too, that he could escape in a wild slide down the steep tunnel. But how could he do that to this man, his new brother?
He leaped in front of Bruinhelde-or tried to, for the barbarian, harboring the same thoughts, tried to leap in front of him at the same moment. They crashed together, Midalis' forehead smacking Bruinhelde's shoulder, their knees crashing together, and then they stumbled, certain that they were doomed.
The spirit shaggoth inexplicably missed the strike, as if their sudden movements and collision had confused it.
The pair scrambled all over each other, pushing each other toward the downward-slanting tunnel, then falling into it together, bouncing and tumbling, and finally crawling out the lower opening, to find Andacanavar waiting for them.
'A fun ride, then.' The ranger laughed at the disheveled pair, for Midalis' forehead was bleeding and Bruinhelde was holding one knee. 'We could go up and ride it again.'
'With all our blessings,' Midalis said, holding out Towalloko. 'You go.'
But Andacanavar only laughed again and led them out of the cave.
Midalis hardly noticed the first part of their descent, for he was lost in a haze of smoky dreams. Then, as his thoughts cleared, he found himself with a most profound headache, could feel his pulse throbbing in his temples. At first, he thought it the result of the collision with Bruinhelde, but when he looked at him, he found that the barbarian was similarly rubbing his head.
The herbal smoke, Midalis reasoned; and a strange notion occurred to him then. How much of this experience had been real and how much had been hallucination? Was there even really a creature within that cavern? And if so, was it as they had seen it, so terrifying, so mighty? Yes, that was it, Midalis thought. This whole experience had been naught but an elaborate deceit!
'What are you thinking?' Andacanavar asked, seeing Midalis' perplexed expression; but then the ranger exploded in laughter, and so did Bruinhelde.
Midalis stared at them both curiously.
Andacanavar, laughing still, produced a small sheet of polished metal and held it out to the man. 'Your face,' he explained.
Midalis took the mirror and held it up before him, then gasped and had to reconsider his assumption. For the Prince's face was bright red, burned by his close encounter with the spirit shaggoth's back.
'You have some ugly monsters in Alpinador,' Midalis remarked. 'We say the same of your women,' Bruinhelde replied; and they laughed again, all three.
'You are brethren now,' Andacanavar remarked in all seriousness. Midalis and Bruinhelde nodded-each had willingly risked his own safety to save the other. Even in that moment of victory, the Prince wondered how his natural brother would feel about the newest addition to the family.
'I'm only eight years in the Church,' Brother Haney said to Liam O'Blythe and Brother Dellman as they walked along the docks of Pireth Vanguard, toward the waiting Saudi Jacintha. 'There be two brothers older than meself in all of Vanguard, not counting Abbot Agronguerre.'
His doubts touched Dellman, for he had heard the rumors that had named Haney as Agronguerre's choice for abbot, if he was indeed elected father abbot. Haney wasn't of the correct age, of course, wasn't even a master, but such premature appointments were not unusual at all in Vanguard, where brothers were few. On occasion, St.- Mere-Abelle had been forced to send a master north to replace a fallen abbot. Given the turmoil in the southland these days, and the absence of masters and other high-ranking brethren, Dellman thought that unlikely. And if Abbot Agronguerre did indeed become father abbot, then his faith in Haney would likely secure the man's ascent as abbot at St. Belfour.
'Will ye come back to us? ' Liam O'Blythe asked Dellman.
'My course is not my own to decide,' the brother answered, then quickly added, 'but if given the chance to name my road, it will indeed include Vanguard. Perhaps I will take my first appointment as master in service to Abbot Haney of St. Belfour.' It was just the right thing to say, a remark that widened a smile on Brother Haney's face, and just the right time to say it, for they had come to the gangplank leading aboard the Saudi Jacintha, with Captain Al'u'met looking across at them approvingly. The three, their friendship forged that night on the beach, and grown since, joined hands then.
'Would that we had a jigger o' single malt to toast,' Liam said with a wink.
Dellman looked at him curiously. 'I have but one fear of returning to Vanguard,' he said seriously, drawing concerned looks from his companions.
'I fear that I will begin to speak like you!' Dellman explained, and all three broke down in laughter and fell into a great hug.
'Ye do return to us, Brother Dellman,' Brother Haney remarked as the man started up the gangplank. Dellman glanced back over his shoulder and nodded sincerely, for he had every intention of doing just that.
'And if I do not return-' Abbot Agronguerre began to Prince Midalis, the two standing in a side room off the docks of Pireth Vanguard while the SaudiJacintha was readied for leaving,
'Then Brother Haney will be named as abbot of St. Belfour,' the Prince assured the monk. 'We are no strangers to succession, my friend. Is there an abbey more independent than St. Belfour in all Honce-the-Bear? '
'More renegade, perhaps,' the abbot answered with a laugh, but his visage quickly sobered. 'It pains me to
