into his surroundings. It was an easier spell and one that did not require as much will and power to maintain. It was also a bit more of a danger.
He was careful to give the trio a wide enough berth. Once past them, Cabe did not look back. There was too much ahead of him that needed his attention.
Cabe had seen armed camps before, but the organization and efficiency of this one dismayed him. He had assumed that the wolf raiders would be a more haphazard bunch after their flight from the war, but while the men and equipment did have that weary and battle-worn look to them, this was not an army of refugees. These soldiers were here to fight. They would grumble and their officers would beat some of them, but this was most definitely a force to fear.
Walking among an army that would have slain him in an instant if his spell failed, Cabe could not help but feel ill at ease. Nonetheless, he moved through the camp with little hesitation, noting the number of tents and men he saw and estimating how many more there might be. The warlock listened to fragments of conversations about the war in the empire and the decisions of the expedition’s leaders. He heard the name “D’Farany” used more than once and always in fearful respect. From what he discerned, Cabe was certain that the Aramite sorcerer was the very same man. His worry increased a hundredfold. Under a leader like the keeper, the wolf raiders became an even greater threat. D’Farany was the sort of commander who would drive his men beyond normal limits, if only out of fear of him.
Several times soldiers on sentry duty crossed his path and during one such incident one paused before him, squinting. The guard tightened his grip on his sword, but after staring for several seconds, he blinked and continued on. Cabe’s heart did not start beating again until the guard was far away.
The warlock was in what he guessed was the center of the encampment when, to his shock, he sensed an all too familiar presence. It could only have been because of the fog that he had not noticed it sooner. In fact, Cabe was certain that the sense of need he had felt earlier could only have come from this source.
“
Like a beacon, the shadow steed’s presence drew him along. Cabe was forced to walk around several tents and avoid numerous sentries, but at last he saw a huge, looming shape in the distance. The ensorcelled mage glanced around. The light had not changed much for the past several minutes; this was evidently as bright as the day was to become. Cabe was relieved. It would be difficult enough to rescue Darkhorse, out in the open as he was, without more illumination further increasing visibility. For once, the fog worked to his benefit.
The distance that remained he covered in swift enough fashion, but the last few yards were still the hardest he had crossed yet. Not because of any encounter with sentries, but rather because he was at last able to see what had become of his old friend.
The ebony leviathan stood silent in an open patch away from the main encampment. Two sentries stood watch from a more than healthy distance, but they were there more for decoration and were not even looking at the captive. What truly held the shadow steed prisoner was a peculiar, metallic harness device that hung around his neck. From the harness stretched four thin lines whose other ends were looped around his legs just above the hooves. Cabe could detect the power ravaging Darkhorse even from far away. The baleful Aramite device was designed not only to hold its captive in place, but to slowly drain him of any will or strength to escape. Judging by the way the eternal’s head dropped and how dim the once-blazing eyes were, the foul creation of the wolf raiders was doing its work and doing it well.
The guards did not notice him, but when the warlock was only a few yards from Darkhorse, the shadow steed raised his weary head. He did not look at the spellcaster, but Cabe felt a weak touch in his mind. Cabe shuddered at the feebleness of that touch. How had the eternal come to this?
He continued on past the guards, who looked too caught up in their misery at having had to stand night duty to ever notice a specter crossing their paths. The silent warlock walked until he was next to the prisoner, then turned around so that he could keep watch on the sentries while he and Darkhorse conversed.
“Can you speak?” Cabe whispered.
“That . . . power is still mine. I had . . . given up hope . . . for you, Cabe. My heart lightens.”
The shadow steed’s tone did anything but lighten his. This close, he could better feel the wicked work of the harness. Each moment further drained his companion of his might. Darkhorse, however, was almost all magic; if the harness was allowed to continue its work unheeded, it would eventually drain the eternal’s very essence away.
“You can’t shift?”
“No, the harness prevents that.”
Cabe studied the diabolical creation while he talked. “How did you come to be here? Did the patrol capture you after we were separated?”
A little of Darkhorse’s bluster returned. The harness might be sapping his strength, but the return of the warlock was a revitalizing force. “That rabble? They scattered in every direction and never came back.”
One of the guards turned, a look of curiosity spread across his war-ravaged face. His comrade also turned, but seemed more curious about what the other sentry was doing. The first man took two steps toward the eternal and stared at him. With a casual turn of his head, the black stallion stared back. The guard swallowed and stumbled back, much to the amusement of his companion. Both men swapped glares at each other, then returned to their duties.
“Talk quieter!” hissed Cabe. “At the level I do.”
“I have become . . . careless . . . but it is so good to see you, Cabe! I thought my obsession had cost you your life. In dwelling on the loss of one friend, one enemy, I did not pay heed when another friend needed me.”
“You were trying to protect me,” the human protested, still attempting to find some way of removing the harness. He had to be wary; there were alarm spells woven into the arrangement. They were old, however, likely implemented when the harness had first been created. If he was careful, Cabe was certain that he would have no trouble bypassing them. Actually releasing Darkhorse from his magical chains was a more troublesome predicament. The sorcery involved in the evil work of the device was bound also to the captive. In trying to free his friend, Cabe might kill him instead.
“Do you have any notion as to how this may be removed?”
“I do not.” Darkhorse sounded much stronger, if not any more confident. “Forget me, Cabe. There are other matters you would be better off attending to.”
The warlock thought about the wild Nimthian sorcery loose below, but said nothing concerning it to Darkhorse. He could not leave the shadow steed here. Besides, with the stallion’s aid, perhaps a solution to that situation could be discovered. “I’m not leaving you.”
Both sentries turned. Cabe moved as close as he could to his companion. Darkhorse eyed the two raiders, and as had happened before, the soldiers quickly turned away. The dark leviathan’s ice-blue orbs brightened in amusement.
He tilted his head toward Cabe. “Then hear this thought. You asked how I had come to these dire straits. When I discovered that we had become separated, I searched for you. Unable to find any sign, I returned to Esedi, hoping that you would also return there. Much to my dismay, I did not materialize where I had intended. Thinking that the same . . . the same had become of you, I searched the hills carefully. Upon my return to our original point of departure, I was greeted with a surprise.”
As desperate as he was to hear the point of the story, Cabe did not try to hurry Darkhorse. The eternal would explain in his own manner and at his own pace.
Fortunately, this was not to be a long tale. “Awaiting me in the hills was none other than the Lord Gryphon.”
“The Gryphon, yes. He it was who joined me when I entered Legar this second time. He it was who was with me when a second and better-equipped patrol found us.” The leviathan lowered his head, the gleam fading a little from his unsettling eyes. “He it is who is now, too, a prisoner of these jackals.”
Which was why the shadow steed had surrendered, no doubt. Cabe forgot the harness. Turning to gaze out at the mist, he asked, “Where? Do you know?”
