Merinsaard on the head, and the big man howled under Sturm's clench ing hand. Tervy smote him again and again.
'That's enough,' Sturm said. 'He's out.'
'Shall we kill him?' she said.
'By the gods, you're a bloodthirsty child! No, we're not going to kill him. We're not assassins.' The sight of the unconscious Merinsaard gave Sturm a dangerous idea.
'Help me get his armor off.'
'Oh, you want to skin him!' Tervy said. Sturm rolled his eyes and hurried to untie the lacings of the warlord's armor.
The great lord Merinsaard threw back the wall flap.
Guards in the corridor stiffened to attention. The fierce
Dragon Highlord mask turned to them.
'I have immobilized Brightblade,' he said. 'He will remain here until I return. No one is to enter that room before me, do you understand? The paralysis spell will be broken if anyone does. Is that clear?'
'Yes, lord!' the guards shouted in unison.
'Very good.' Merinsaard beckoned to Tervy. 'Come along, girl.' Tervy walked toward him, looking miserable.
Chain dragged between her feet. She was hobbled with heavy iron fetters.
'When you prove your loyalty, I will remove them,'
Merinsaard said loftily.
'Oh, thank you, great lord!' Tervy replied.
The masked man swept on with the girl close on his heels.
In the corridor, beyond earshot of the guards, Sturm said softly, 'You did that very well.'
'Oh, thank you, great lord!'
'You can stop now.'
In the maze of silk walls, Sturm found the flap leading to the room where Onthar and his men were kept. He burst in.
Ostimar raised his sagging head, and when he saw the dragon mask, his expression ran from fear to hatred.
'What now?' Onthar said.
'I'm going to let you go,' said Sturm. He handed Merin saard's dagger to Tervy, who busied herself freeing the astonished herders.
'Where are Sturm and Belingen?' said Frijje.
'Belingen betrayed his honor and died for it.' Sturm removed the stifling helmet. 'And Sturm is with you.'
It was all Sturm could do to restrain the herders from cheering. Even the normally taciturn Onthar grinned and thumped Sturm on the back.
'There's no time for celebration,' Sturm said hastily. 'You must get to your horses and get out of here.'
Rorin said, 'You're not riding with us?'
'I can't. My destiny lies farther north. Besides, the only chance you fellows have is if Merinsaard wants to avenge himself on me rather than recapture all of you.'
The realization of what this meant quickly sank in.
Onthar grasped Sturm's arms. 'We'll face the hordes of
Takhisis if you say so, Ironskin.'
'You may have that opportunity,' Sturm said grimly. 'So go. Warn all your people about Merinsaard. Make sure that no one else brings him cattle, or sheep, or other supplies.
They would meet with the same treatment you did.'
'I will spread the word across the plains,' Onthar vowed.
'Not even a partridge will get to Merinsaard's stores.'
The herders gathered up their few belongings and started for the exit. Sturm added, 'There's just one other thing.'
'What?' asked Onthar.
Sturm paused. 'I want you to take Tervy with you.'
'No!' she said loudly. 'I stay with youl'
'You can't do that. I've got to travel fast and light, and it will be too dangerous for you to remain with me,' Sturm said solemnly.
'It wasn't too dangerous in Merinsaard's room, when I spilled the table and thumped him on the head.'
Sturm laid a hand on the girl's shoulder. 'You're braver than ten men, Tervy, but there's going to be more than just swords or arrows coming at me. There is evil magic abroad in the land, and the full weight of it may fall on me in the coming days.'
Her lips quivered. 'I don't care.'
'I do. You're a fine girl, Tervy. You deserve a long and happy life.' He turned to Frijje. 'You'll look after her, won't you?'
The herder, still amazed to hear that the girl had subdued the mighty Merinsaard, replied, 'I think she'll end up look ing after me!'
It was agreed then, though not without some tears. Sturm hesitated a moment, then kissed her smudged forehead and sent her way with the herders. The pang of regret he felt was like a fresh wound, but Sturm knew that in the coming days his own odds of survival would be slim.
The guards tensed when Onthar and his party walked into view. Sturm, mask in place, ordered the soldiers to let them pass. 'These men are to return with more provender,' he boomed.
The herders' ponies were brought out, and they mounted.
Frijje hauled Tervy up behind him. 'You will bring the next herd to this same spot,' Sturm said loudly.
'Aye, my lord,' Onthar replied. 'A thousand head, I promise.'
Onthar swung his pony southward and kicked its dusty hide. He galloped away with the others strung out behind.
Frijje and Tervy were last. The girl looked back until they were lost from sight. She held her right fist clenched to her chest; the temptation to wave farewell was strong.
Hands clasped behind his back, Sturm strode down the center passage, acting like a general at inspection. He glanced into several rooms until he found what he wanted:
Merinsaard's wardrobe.
Quickly he shed the armor. Merinsaard was thicker through the chest and waist than Sturm, but otherwise they were nearly the same size. He donned a woolen tunic, scarf, and gloves. Though it was warm on the plain, in the higher elevations it would be cold at night. Sturm retained the dragon mask, and threw an ankle-length cloak around his shoulders. The hood hid his dark hair. There was no time to search for the sword that had been taken from him, so he
'borrowed' one of Merinsaard's. Tas would be proud of him, he thought ruefully. The simple-hilted weapon was plated with mirror-finished silver, and fitted with a black leather scabbard. Sturm buckled the sword belt under the cloak.
At the entrance of the grand tent, he shouted, 'My horse!' A soldier ran to the picket line and returned with a magnificent white charger.
'The apothecary reports the poultice has healed Mai-tat's hoof,' the soldier said in a rapid, breathless voice. 'The man begs your lordship to spare him.'
Why not? 'I give him his life,' Sturm said in what he hoped was a convincingly arrogant manner. He put a foot in the stirrup and swung onto Mai-tat. The spirited charger pranced in a half-circle, causing the soldier to retreat.
Sturm opened his mouth to explain his departure, then quickly realized that Merinsaard would likely do no such thing. 'I shall return before morning,' he said.
'The usual guard postings remain?' said the man who'd brought the horse.
