bidenhander from side to side. Afraid of being sliced to shreds, the lads halted their frontal assault, and at this point Hallas and Eel walked into the room.
The two Wild Hearts didn’t bother inquiring what the dustup was all about. Seeing us pinned back against the bar by five unpleasant types who were armed to the teeth was enough to spur them into action. They piled into the brawl. Mumr was no slouch, either. Tables and benches were sent flying. I was wary of firing the crossbow, in case I hit my own side. But Kli-Kli flung my beer mug and hit one of the attackers full square on the head.
Hallas pitilessly finished the man off when he fell, and the last bandit left alive, realizing that things were looking bad, made a dash for the door. I fired, but, as bad luck would have it, I missed. The lad jumped out into the street and Eel chased after him. There was a howl, and a moment later Egrassa walked in, looking sullen and holding a bloody dagger.
“Just don’t tell me that was the last one, and you didn’t leave anyone alive.”
“He was the last one, Egrassa. Did you climb out through the window?”
The elf didn’t answer Kli-Kli’s question, he just cursed.
“It was all a bit unexpected. We never even thought of taking one for questioning.”
“It’s my own fault. I shouldn’t have finished off the one who was trying to get away. Well, what are we going to do now?”
“What did these goons want?” said Hallas, giving the bodies on the floor a fierce look. “Look what a mess we’ve made of the place!”
“Where’s the innkeeper?” I asked, suddenly realizing I couldn’t see him.
“I’m here, noble gentlemen,” a frightened voice jabbered from under the bar.
Mumr reached in and hoisted the trembling owner out into the open.
“Now, you tell us what it was your friends wanted!”
“They’re not my friends! Oh, no!” the terrified man bleated. If Lamplighter didn’t stop making those terrible faces this gent was going to throw a faint.
“Not your friends? Then who are they?”
Lamenting and wringing his hands, the innkeeper told us. The lads had arrived at the inn the evening before, frightened him to death, put a knife to his throat, and advised him to be as meek as a lamb and act just as if nothing had happened. The guests of the inn, not being stupid, had all sensed the danger and cleared out, without bothering to pay. There were no guards or Chasseurs anywhere near, so all he could do was pray to the gods and hope that everything would be all right. He’d never seen these lads before, but they definitely weren’t bandits. You could see right away that they were serious people.
“Serious!” Mumr snorted, releasing his grip on his prisoner. “Maybe they were serious, but they were real fools, too, letting themselves get killed that easily.”
“Maybe they weren’t looking for us?” I suggested.
“No, it was us they were after,” said Eel, who had been going through the dead men’s pockets. “It’s just as I suspected.”
Lying on the Garrakian’s open palm was a slim golden ring with a poison ivy crest.
“Servants of the Nameless One.”
I’d forgotten all about them, but they couldn’t have forgotten about us.
“Servants of the Nameless One!” the innkeeper repeated in horror, instantly turning pale. “No, good gentlemen! I don’t know these murderers! What a disaster! If the local folk find out who I have lying in here, they’ll set the inn on fire. The red cock will crow here, as sure as death!”
“Stop whining!” said the gnome, interrupting the poor man’s lamentations. “If you want your inn to stand for another hundred years, get rid of the bodies. And tidy the place up! And then tomorrow we can forget we ever saw you and not say anything to the Heartless or the Sandmen.”
Singing the praises of all the gods and all good gentlemen, the innkeeper dashed off at speed to carry out these instructions.
“How did they find us, that’s what I’d like to know.”
“What difference does that make? They found us, and that’s what matters, Harold. The Nameless One is still hoping to get his hands on your tin whistle.”
“It’s not mine. What do we do now?”
“What do we do? What do we do? I don’t know about you, but I’m going to bed,” Hallas sighed, getting down off the bench. “It’s late.”
“What about supper?” Kli-Kli asked in amazement.
“Somehow I’ve lost my appetite.”
“There’s one good thing,” Egrassa said with a chuckle. “We won’t have to look for horses. Or pay for them.”
This time I knew I was asleep; even though it seemed so real, I could stop this nightmare—all I had to do was open my eyes and it would be gone. I could, but I didn’t want to wake up. Valder kept whispering quietly in my head, telling me that this dream was very important. I tried to protest, I struggled to resist his voice, but the archmagician could be very convincing.
I gave in. All I could do was just watch and listen, constantly telling myself that everything that could happen to me had happened already, even if it was a long time ago. That it wasn’t happening to me … Not to me … It was just a dream.…
It promised to be a clear day, even though snow had fallen again yesterday and the entire sky had clouded over. Even the frost that had held the whole of the north in its cold embrace for the last week had retreated, and the soldiers had stopped worrying that their weapons would freeze to their hands.
Stalkon’s army had been waiting since early morning for the Nameless One’s army to appear. Mounted scouts had reported that the enemies’ advance units were no more than two hours away. They had also said that the Nameless One would confront Valiostr’s army of less than twenty-eight thousand with a force of at least sixty thousand. Lieutenant of the Royal Guard Izmi Markauz took a deep breath of the fresh morning air. They were in for a tough time today. In the absence of the two Armies of the North, the king and his commanding officers had already worked a miracle by assembling eighteen thousand regulars, three thousand mercenaries, and seven thousand members of the militia. The king was also waiting for another fifteen thousand men who were on the march to Avendoom from the border with Isilia, but any fool could see that they would only get there after the battle had already been won or lost.
“What do you think, lieutenant? Will things get hot?”
“They will, Vartek.”
“It’s a bad spot, though.”
“Nothing better could be found. Can’t greet our visitors at Avendoom, can we? The walls won’t save us, and the lay of the land is on our side here. How are the lads?”
“They’re betting on who’ll be the first to kill one of the enemy.”
“But they know the royal guard won’t go into action unless things get really bad. Our task is to protect the king.”
“And what are the Beaver Caps for?” Vartek grumbled. “I’ve heard they’re putting all of us in the left reserve.”
“That’s what I’ve heard, too,” Izmi said with a shrug. “But we’ll get a chance to swing our axes. Or are you impatient?”
“You should put your armor on, milord,” the marquis said instead of answering.
“There’ll be time enough for that.”
“The light cavalry is already involved in skirmishes with the advance forces, just beyond that wood. Perhaps there won’t be any time.”
“Milord!” cried a soldier, running up to them with a piece of paper in his hand. “From the commander of the center!”
Izmi ran his eyes over the lines of writing and nodded to tell the messenger that he was free to go.
“Vartek, get over to our men. Leave a hundred, no, better a hundred and fifty guards with the king, and take all the rest over onto the left slope.”
