“What do you think is happening at Vingaard, then, milord?”
Gauntleted hands tightened their grip on the reins. “I cannot say for certain, Sir Grissom, save that I think our final destination will be a true trial of our strength, in mind as well as in body.” Bennett muttered a small oath to Paladine, then added, “It’s time we moved on. Send word down the column. Slow but steady, Sir Grissom.”
“Milord.” The other knight turned his horse around and departed.
Bennett continued to stare in the direction he knew Vingaard Keep had to be, trying not to think too much about what he would do once the column made it there. He wondered whether they would be, as he feared, too late really to do anything.
Chapter Fourteen
“You realise,” Darius whispered, “that this plan of yours might be the product of the same sorcerous madness that has affected Vingaard and the lands surrounding it.”
Kaz nodded almost imperceptibly. “Very much so, but then, everyone we’ve been dealing with suffers from the same affliction, so that means what we’re doing is practically normal, doesn’t it?”
The silence of the empty keep was at least as eerie in its own way as that first night when they had been stalked by the winged thing and attacked by the wild knight. Time almost seemed to be holding its breath, waiting. The hair on the minotaur’s back began to rise.
“Look!” Tesela whispered.
Blinking, Kaz joined Darius and Tesela in staring at the scene unfolding before them.
The amassed figures did not resemble the phantom knights, though distance and the flickering light of the torches made it impossible to say for certain. Kaz estimated maybe four dozen. The thought occurred to him that maybe these were phantoms, too, but he discarded that idea almost immediately. These were flesh-and-blood Knights of Solamnia, and they looked ready to defend the stronghold of the Grand Master at any cost.
‘They still haven’t seen us,” Darius whispered quickly. “You two could remain in the shadows. I am one of them.”
In lieu of a reply, Kaz straightened and stepped into sight.
Not one of the knights so much as turned a head. They remained where they were, resolutely guarding against… what?
Darius, accompanied by Tesela, quickly stepped up behind the minotaur. One knight slowly turned his helm toward them. Then another. And another. Like some bizarre puppet show, ten or twelve of the figures turned to stare in the direction of the trio. They stared-and did nothing else.
“I like this not,” Darius muttered.
“Really?”
At Kaz’s whispered suggestion, the three walked toward a knight whose armor indicated he was of some rank in the Order of the Crown. Acting as if he were the minotaur’s captor, Darius ordered Kaz to come to a halt. With great uneasiness, he steeled himself and stepped forward to speak with his fellow knight.
“Knight Darius, late of the keep in the province of Westia.”
With his helm completely obscuring his face, it was impossible to tell whether the other knight even took any notice of Darius.
“I have with me the minotaur named Kaz, brought here at the command of the Grand Master himself.”
A mournful howl filled the air of the keep. It was answered by other howls from all about the citadel.
‘They’re coming!” the knight Darius had been speaking to shouted suddenly. All around them, the forms were beginning to move with a determination that amazed the trio. Lances were made ready. A few knights secured their torches and reached for bows. The arrows they fitted had tiny bits of moist cloth tied to them. Kaz realized the men were making fire arrows.
In the shadows all around, they could hear the padding of feet, the harsh breathing of several large creatures, and the occasional repetition of the mournful wail.
Kaz glanced at the knights. “They’re ignoring us…”
The howling was replaced by growls.
“Interesting timing,” Kaz commented sourly.
“What do you mean?”
“After the day’s quiet and Argaen’s betrayal, I just think that this attack is too well timed.”
“A diversion!” Darius blurted.
“Here they come!” someone cried.
White shapes began to burst from the shadows, long, sinewy white shapes so very familiar to Kaz. Baleful blind eyes, burning red, contrasted greatly with the dead flesh of the hairless beasts.
“Dreadwolves!”
The others looked at him. From him they knew of dreadwolves, but actually to
Darius could not stand it. “Kaz, we cannot abandon my brothers! Mad or not, they fight for their lives!”
“Our mission is just as important! Whatever Argaen plans, I want to make certain that he doesn’t end up bringing Vingaard Keep down around us!”
A fiery arrow caught a dreadwolf in midleap. The creature tumbled to the side, then rose again. When it realized it was on fire, it began to roll on the ground. The arrow snapped and the head buried itself deeper in the creature, but it didn’t concern the dreadwolf. It was not alive but was merely a parody of life.
Kaz, frustrated, took Darius by the collar. “Listen, human,” he snorted madly. “In times past, the dreadwolves were controlled by the sorcerer, Dracos! Dracos should be dead, but someone or something is controlling those monsters! I think the key lies in the vaults! Someone should go down there and investigate!”
Another dreadwolf became skewered on the end of a long lance. Somehow the defenders were succeeding in keeping the battle a stalemate.
As Kaz released his grip on Darius, the truth of the situation dawned on him.
“You’ve nothing to worry about, Darius,” he said quickly. “They’re like the knight we fought-illusions!”
They watched another dreadwolf, pinned to the ground, vanish. The knight who had pinned him down with his lance seemed to take this in stride, calmly awaiting the next one.
“Come on!” cried Kaz. “I doubt we have too much time!”
Though they had half-expected it, it was still a bit of a shock to discover that the building was empty. Their footsteps echoed loudly in the halls. Kaz, the only one of the three who had ever been in the Grand Master’s citadel, led the way.
Kaz only hoped that Oswal had no intention of hanging him from the point of a lance. It would certainly spoil the reunion, not to mention any chances of catching Argaen before it was too late. Kaz wondered what the elf’s plan was. What did he intend to do with whatever artifact or power lurked down in the vault?
They turned down the hallway and found two elaborately decorated doors blocking their path. Kaz tried the doors and, when they proved to be locked, clasped both hands together, raising them high in the air and bringing them down hard where the two doors joined.
The doors burst open with a loud crash. Splinters flew everywhere.
Beyond the entrance, seated in a throne atop a dais and guarded by a dozen stern figures, was the still- majestic form of the Grand Master of the Knights of Solamnia. Even from where he stood, Kaz could see the strain that Lord Oswal was under. Despite that, Oswal continued to radiate a power of majesty.
The aquiline features, so much like those of his nephew though tempered by age, came into view as the Grand Master looked up at those who had dared invade his inner sanctum. The eyes seemed to pierce the trio.
“So!” Oswal suddenly raged. He stood up and pointed a condemning finger at the three. “You think to twist my mind with still more of your masks, your illusions? I feel your weakness! The knighthood will triumph!”
With odd dreamlike movements, the guards on the steps of the platform began to draw toward the newcomers. The Grand Master fairly wept with delight. “They see you! I’ve survived your spell of madness, then!”
“How is it things keep getting worse and worse?” snarled Kaz. He stepped in front of Darius and Tesela and
