rode up.
The first one struck hard with his lance at the shield of the man who had attacked us. The warrior hadn’t been expecting anything of the kind and he lost his seat in the saddle. I caught a momentary glimpse of a white face with an expression of absolute amazement as the lad went crashing to the ground, right at Lamplighter’s feet.
“Are your brains completely addled, Borrik?” one of the riders barked. “Or have you gone blind?”
The warrior lying on the ground stared wild-eyed and gulped frantically. He’d obviously taken a hard fall when he left the saddle.
“Forgive my man, Tresh Elf,” the same rider said to Egrassa.
“Elf?” the one who was called Borrik finally gasped. “I thought it was one of the orcs.”
“You thought! I’ll send you up onto the wall to count ravens! I won’t let you back in the saddle for a year! Let me apologize again most humbly for this misunderstanding, Tresh…”
“Egrassa. Egrassa of the House of the Black Moon,” the dark elf replied, glaring at Borrik as he tried to get up off the ground.
If there hadn’t been so many horsemen present, the warrior would already have tasted the elf’s s’kash. But Egrassa thought it better for the moment not to put any more strain on relations, and he postponed his vengeance on the young lad for a better time.
“I am Neol Iragen, lieutenant of the Moitsig Guard,” the horseman said.
Neol Iragen was over forty years old. Eyes like a cat, thick eyebrows that met on the bridge of his nose, and the despondent features of a petty nobleman that didn’t fit with the piercing blue glint of those eyes and the confident pose in the saddle.
“Are these, er … people with you, Tresh Egrassa?” The lieutenant stumbled over the word “people,” because it was hard to apply it to a goblin and a gnome.
“Yes, these are my warriors.”
I don’t know what Neol Iragen thought, but Kli-Kli and I certainly attracted a couple of suspicious glances. It couldn’t be helped; the gobliness and I just didn’t look like warriors.
“What brings an elf to our city, when the Black Forest is ablaze?” asked the lieutenant, trying to make his question sound polite.
“Orders from the king,” said Egrassa, taking out Stalkon’s decree, the same one that we’d shown to the two magicians in Vishki. He handed it to the horseman.
The warrior took the document and studied the royal seal carefully. I must say that Milord Neol was certainly surprised, but it hardly showed in his face at all—his thick eyebrows merely quivered.
“When the war began, we were ordered to check any unusual and unexpected travelers,” the lieutenant began cautiously as he returned the document to the elf. “There are all sorts walking the roads now. Including deserters and spies. Your appearance here is very strange, and then these papers … You understand, Tresh Egrassa, we can’t simply let you go just like that?”
“What do you suggest?”
“We need to check everything, and it would be best if we took you into the city, to the commander of the garrison.”
“We have nothing against that,” Egrassa said with a casual shrug.
“Well, that’s marvelous!” Neol Iragen said with a sigh of relief when he realized that the elf had no intention of being stubborn. “Borrik, give Tresh Egrassa your horse!”
The lad had recovered by this time, and he led the large black beast over to Egrassa without a murmur. Another five riders dismounted to give us their horses. They didn’t offer Kli-Kli a horse. The gobliness was about to take offense and make a scene, but I put her up in front of me, and she seemed quite content with that arrangement.
As we rode toward Moitsig, we found ourselves in the center of the detachment of riders, who surrounded us, seemingly by chance, just in case these strange travelers might decide that they didn’t really want to visit the city and try to make a run for it.
“What’s happening with the army? Is Maiding still holding out?” asked Eel, breaking the long silence.
One of the warriors opened his mouth to answer, but caught a glance of warning from Neol Iragen and swallowed the words that had been on the tip of his tongue.
“Wait for a little while, soldier,” said the lieutenant. “The commandant will tell you everything.”
Eel nodded and didn’t ask any more questions. I couldn’t understand the reason for all the secrets. Didn’t he trust the royal decree? To think of us as deserters was stupid, to say the least. And we didn’t fit the role of spies. Orcs would never use men as spies. Or would they? When I remembered the First Human Assault Army that had gone over to the orcs during the Spring War, the concerns of the citizens of Moitsig didn’t seem so strange.
“Lamplighter!” Egrassa suddenly called to the Wild Heart.
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
Mumr hadn’t been expecting any gratitude from the elf. He screwed his eyes up in satisfaction and grinned from ear to ear.
Moitsig was a seething hive of activity. It was only half the size of Ranneng, and it couldn’t bear any comparison at all with Avendoom, but that didn’t prevent the inhabitants of this southern city feeling for a day that they were the luckiest folk in the Universe.
The festive atmosphere that filled the squares and streets would have been the envy of any city in the world. The holiday feeling hung in the air—we heard it in the conversations of the townsfolk and the guards at the gates, it rang out in the songs of the revelers at the inns and taverns. It was as if there was no war. Today the inhabitants of the city were victorious. They, and they alone, had crushed a force of three thousand (or perhaps even more) orcs, and what difference did it make how the victory had been snatched from the jaws of fate? The victors are never judged—isn’t that what they say? Today the people were rejoicing and trying to enjoy everything life had to offer, for tomorrow the bleak times would begin again and the war would continue.
We didn’t ride through the streets crammed with people for very long. Neol Iragen led our group to the municipal barracks. There were as many soldiers here as there were civilians out in the streets. The warriors seemed to be preparing for a march. They were all dashing about from one corner to another. The captains and sergeants were yelling orders, some men were packing their kit, others were saddling horses.
Were the lads getting ready to give someone a good roasting? Well, it was high time.
They brought us to the barracks and left us in the company of some soldiers. Egrassa and Eel went off together with the lieutenant of the guard to see the commandant, and we passed the time at the table. The gods be praised, they didn’t intend to starve us to death. Kli-Kli didn’t eat anything, and the moment I let her out of my sight, she disappeared. She must have gone running off after the elf or decided to sniff out some news.
“I don’t like all this,” Hallas said, chomping away and at the same time fishing a particularly appetizing piece of meat out of the pot. “Celebrations are all very well, a victory should be celebrated, but it’s not good to go playing the fool. What on earth, I ask you, is the point of leaving the city gates wide open? The orcs have always been famous for their rapid attacks. There’ll be a real panic when they turn up, you mark my words, Harold! The guards might not even have time to close the gates, and then what do we do? It’s a lot harder fighting in the streets than up on the walls.”
“Don’t be so nervous. Everything will be just fine,” Lamplighter said philosophically, and gave a long, drawn- out belch. “This Neol doesn’t seem like a fool. If the gates are open, then there’s nothing to be afraid of. I’m sure the area round the city is crawling with scouts, like fleas on a mangy dog. They’ll spot any orcs a league away.”
“Why can’t you understand, Mumr?” the gnome exclaimed indignantly. “There has to be order in everything! If the gates are open, that’s gross negligence! We gnomes would never commit a stupidity like that.”
“If Deler was here—may he dwell the light—he’d soon give you an answer,” Lamplighter retorted.
Hallas suddenly lost interest in the conversation, started stirring the soup round with his spoon, and then pushed the pot away.
“They’ve been gone a long time. I hope this commandant isn’t some kind of petty tyrant who wants to keep us here longer than necessary.”
