Sentinelspire

many senses of the word. Seems that Berun remembers. Maybe Kheil isn't so dead after all, eh?'

Berun didn't respond.

'Using her… gift, Talieth found you, whatever you choose to call yourself. She knew you were alive. But… well, it seems that leaf-loving master of yours doesn't know how to hold his tongue.'

'What do you mean?'

'I mean your old master talked. Sang like a damned minstrel for his supper. Mad the Old Man may be, but he's no fool. He figured out who this 'Berun' was… is… whatever. There are still blades in the Fortress loyal to the Old Man. Had it not been for Talieth's particular gifts, they might have found you first.'

'Found me?' Berun's heart hammered, and he suddenly felt as if his breathing were too loud and quick. 'What does the Old Man want with me?'

'You have something he wants.'

'Something he wants?' said Berun. 'What-?'

'Air eye lin, or something like that.'

'Erael'len?'

'As you say,' said Sauk. 'Never could wrap my tongue around the damned elfspeak.'

'It's Aglarondan. It means-' Berun stopped, cursing himself.

'Means what?'

'Three Hearts.'

'Three Hearts,' said Sauk. 'How sweet. Damned leaf lovers. No teeth in their jaws. When your old master talked, the Old

Man became interested. Very interested. Seems he not only misses his favorite assassin, but he's hungry for this thing you carry, the Three Hearts.

'Which is why Talieth sent me after it,' said Sauk. 'After you. So what do you say? Kill the Old Man and help save your old master. Are you with us?'

'No.' The word slipped out before Berun could stop it. But he didn't regret it.

'No?' said Sauk, his tone equal parts shock and outrage.

'I… can't,' said Berun. 'Things are different now.'

Lewan. That's what it all came down to. The boy wasn't everything. There was the Old Man, Talieth, Sauk, and Sentinelspire itself, all facets of Kheil's old life that Berun had hoped were dead and buried forever. Going back to them… it would be too much like stepping back into Kheil's skin. There was the thought of Chereth, his beloved master, a prisoner, possibly being tortured or worse, but every thought of the old druid only reminded Berun of his oath. I swear I will not come after you, save on your word alone. By my blood upon thorn I swear it. By blood and thorn had he been given life, a second chance. He couldn't defile that. But beyond all that was Lewan. He couldn't forsake the boy. Like Berun, Lewan was alone in the world. All they had was each other.

Sauk held his scowl a good long while, but then he smiled and shook his head. 'Nothing I can say to change your mind, old friend?'

'Sauk, you must understand, I have… other responsibilities now.' He took a deep breath and offered up a silent prayer. 'I will help, if I can. But you must allow me to do it my way.'

Sauk's smile went feral. 'Now there's the Kheil I remember.'

'You said it yourself,' said Berun. 'The Old Man has new guardians, things none of us understand. If he's somehow leeching power off Chereth, then I need to find others who understand such powers better than I do.'

'You mean druids.'

'Yes.'

'But you-'

'I'm no druid, Sauk. Chereth was my master, and he taught me many things. Had he continued to teach me… someday, perhaps. But now I am simply a servant of the wild. I'll be no help to you. But perhaps I can find those who will be.'

'There's no time for that.'

'If I can find a grove, there are rites I can perform to contact help.'

'I can't allow that.' 'Why?'

'Make no mistake here,' said Sauk. 'We're out to kill the Old Man. Kill him dead and put him on a pyre. But the Fortress of the Old Man, the blades-those will live on. And you know our ways. Invitation only, and only those wishing for our… services. You think I'm going to allow you to bring a flock of tree lovers into a fortress that has stood undiscovered by outsiders for generations? You know us better than that, Kheil.'

'Berun.'

'Berun, then! I don't care what you call yourself. We must stop him, and we need you-and what you carry-to do that.' The earnestness in Sauk's eyes hit Berun. 'Don't you want to help your old master?'

'I do. But rushing to my own death won't help him. If half of what you say is true, if the Old Man's powers are beyond Chereth's, then I can do nothing against him. I'll need help.'

Sauk's gaze hardened again. 'That the way it is, then? Despite what you call yourself now, you have to remember that we were once as brothers. I come to you asking for help and you turn me away?'

That felt like a slap. Something tingled deep in Berun's mind. Not shame, exactly. More like confusion and a niggling fear that there was some truth to the half-orc's words. Still, his mind was made up. The only sure way of getting Chereth out alive was to find help. And there was Lewan to think about.

'My mind is made up, Sauk.'

The half-orc's shoulders slumped, just for a moment, then he stiffened again. 'I was afraid you'd say that. Have it your way.'

Sauk whistled, a harsh shriek between his bottom lip and top teeth that cut through the darkness. For several moments nothing happened, and then he heard it. Something approached through the woods. Not Taaki. The tiger would never make so much noise, even in the dark. v Two more of Sauk's men emerged from the wood, and between them walked Lewan. The boy's bow was gone, and his quiver and sheath hung empty from his belt. His left sleeve had been ripped halfway off his shirt, dirt and mud smeared him, and he had grass and twigs in his hair. He seemed unhurt, but his eyes had the look of a deer that had been outrunning a wolf pack and knew it could run no more.

Berun leaped to his feet, his unstrung bow clutched in one hand. 'What is this?'

The half-orc rose and put out a placating hand. 'Easy. Calm yourself. We need you-and what you carry. The boy will be safe as long as you come with us and behave yourself.'

Berun stared spears at Sauk for several long breaths. It didn't seem to bother the half-orc.

'Lewan,' said Berun, looking to his disciple, 'are you hurt?'

The boy blinked and looked at Berun. His jaw started to quiver, but he clenched it and swallowed. 'I'm fine, master.'

'He just had a good long run that didn't end well,' said the man to Lewan's left. 'We did him no harm.'

Berun returned his attention to Sauk. 'Free the boy, and I'll come with you.'

'You will come with us anyway,' said Sauk. 'And so will the boy.'

Berun ground his teeth, looked off into the dark, and took a deep, controlled breath. He'd have to play this just right. He'd done this before, but never against so many, and never against a hunter like Sauk.

Closing his eyes, Berun let out the breath, nice and slow. Still standing, he relaxed his muscles and took another breath, this time through his nose, drawing in strength. Keeping his gaze set on the dark, Berun reached out with his other senses.

Scent. He smelled the wood smoke of the campfires, the thin stew bubbling in a cast iron cauldron, the damp of the streamside mud, the slight musky tang of sweat, leather, and unwashed clothes from Sauk and his men.

Sounds. The crackling of the nearby fire, loudest of all. The shuffle of men beside their fires, their low conversation, the scrape of their boots over ground. A slight breeze rattling the tops of the trees. Crickets, frogs, a night bird or two. The flutter of a moth past his ear.

Feeling. The air, tinged by smoke, passing in and out of his throat, filling his lungs. The soft scrape of his clothes against his skin. Cool air along his left cheek, warmer air on the right side that faced the fire. And deeper down, deep behind his eyes where men could only see in dreams, Berun sensed Perch, the edge of the little animal's mind touching his own. Berun knew that the treeclaw lizard crouched above them somewhere in the