subsequent capture of Mandes. Tol expected the old warrior to demand the sorcerer’s head for aiding the lizard- men, but the instant Urakan heard the word “cure,” that’s all he cared to know.
“I’m burying fifty men a day,” he said, eyes dark with pain. “Is there enough potion for the entire army?”
“If there isn’t, Mandes will make more,” Tol vowed.
Lord Urakan received the first dose, then the kegs were sent to the great tent serving as the temple of healing, with instructions to the priests and priestesses of Mishas as to how to administer the potion. Word of the cure quickly spread, and hundreds of warriors and camp followers dragged themselves painfully to the healers’ tent. Once the distribution was well underway, Tol had Mandes brought before Lord Urakan.
“What do you have to say for yourself?” asked Urakan gravely.
Not the least intimidated, the wizard launched into his tale. When he reached his enslavement by the bakali, the general interrupted him.
“Did you make this plague people call the Red Wrack?” Urakan demanded.
“No, my lord. It has always existed. I did give the bakali chief, Mithzok, certain magical perfumes and unguents, compounded into large balls of resin. When burned, the resulting fumes created a soporific veil of fog, which only sunlight could disperse.”
“The plague, wizard. How did it get into the mist?” Tol interjected sharply.
Mandes lifted his hands in a gesture of ignorance. “Forgive me, lords, but is it proven the Red Wrack was a component of the mist? It did strike Lord Tolandruth’s men right after the fog arose, but the sickness has long lurked in this land.” The sorcerer folded his hands across his belly and furrowed his high brow. “It could be a conjuration made by the bakali, my lords. They have knowledge of poisons and sickness spells. Mayhap one of their shamans joined a coughing spell to my fog-making incense.”
They cross-examined the wizard for a long time, trying to trick him into admitting he had created the plague for the bakali. But Mandes deftly avoided every trap laid for him and steadfastly maintained his innocence.
“Very well,” Lord Urakan said finally. “I accept your story. Under duress, you helped the lizards. You are forgiven that weakness. Today you’ve done a greater service to us by curing the Red Wrack. So you are free to go.”
“My lord!” Tol protested.
“What would you have me do, Tolandruth?” Urakan asked, a hint of the old arrogance coloring his voice. “I have a war to pursue. Thirty days we’ve lingered in this stinking morass, while Tylocost and the Tarsan army have overrun eastern Hylo. When my men are fit to fight again, I intend to retake the province. I don’t want to worry about this wizard.”
“What of Tylocost’s defeat? Whoever destroyed half his army may still be at large in the western part of the country,” Egrin observed.
“Could it have been the bakali?”
“Possibly, but I doubt it, my lord. Tylocost’s defeat took place well before the bakali are known to have arrived,” said Tol.
“Solving that enigma is your task. Mine’s defeating Tylocost.” Urakan’s strength was returning, and he plainly burned to come to grips with the elusive elf general.
Mandes cleared his throat. “May I speak, gracious lords?” At Urakan’s nod he said, “If there is some unknown force at work in Hylo, Lord Tolandruth may need help dealing with it-sorcerous help. I am willing to offer my services.”
Tol folded his arms and said, “That might be wise.”
Even Mandes was surprised at the easy acceptance. “I’m honored by your trust, my lord,” he murmured.
“Don’t be. We don’t know what we’ll be facing up there. It may be the monster XimXim or more bakali. Who knows? Maybe there’s a dragon loose in Hylo. Feel up to tangling with a dragon, Master Mandes?”
The wizard crossed his arms, insolently imitating Tol’s pose. “My lord, what you can face, I can face.”
For several heartbeats they gazed at each other, faces masks of measured stoicism. Suddenly Tol smiled, giving way in the end to a full-fledged grin.
“You have grit, wizard.”
“I seek only to serve a worthy master,” Mandes replied modestly.
The change in the imperial camp was profound. Healing tents emptied, and men who’d been without appetite for days crowded around the cookfires, stuffing themselves on beef and bread. The camp took on a new air of confidence and action. As Kiya observed, Tylocost and the Tarsans had better take care. Urakan’s hordes were looking to end their bored inaction, and the enemy would feel the force of their frustration.
From this scene of grim energy, Tol’s column moved quickly and quietly away. An army the size of Lord Urakan’s always attracted spies, especially when it remained in place a long time. Tol wanted no one to learn of his mission.
They made good progress up to the border between the Northern Hundred and Hylo proper. Beyond the stone markers bearing the arms of Emperor Ergothas II lay the kender kingdom, forested and sparsely settled. Four-fifths of the population of Hylo lived in six towns: Last Land, Windee, Hylo City, Far-to-go, Old Port, and Free Point. The rest wandered the countryside, doing incomprehensible kender things. One of Tol’s captains, the former seaman Darpo, had served on a merchant ship that traded in the Hylo ports. As they camped at the edge of the forest surrounding Hylo City, Darpo spoke of his experience with the kender.
“Everyone knows their light-fingered ways,” he began. The shifting light and shadow played eerily over his scarred face. When his audience snorted at his words, Darpo grinned, saying, “But kender don’t steal the way human thieves do, to enrich themselves. They do it out of mischief more than anything else.”
“Are there female kender?” Miya asked. They snickered at her, and she added hotly, “I’ve never seen one, that’s all!”
“One of the ones with us before Ropunt was female,” Darpo said, and took a long swig of beer, a parting gift from the grateful Lord Urakan.
“Eh? Which one?” Tol asked.
“The smaller one-the one we called Rufus.”
“I don’t believe it!” said Kiya. “He had a face like a spoiled apple, and no shape whatsoever!”
Darpo smiled, pushing dark blond hair back from his face. “Well, she was pretty old. Kender cultivate a vague appearance. They also change their names whenever it suits them.”
“Darpo’s quite right,” Mandes remarked. “I lived among the kender for half a year, and I seldom could tell male from female, or get one to answer to any name I thought I knew.”
As the Dom-shu sisters continued to dispute with Darpo over the gender of their erstwhile guides, Tol said to Mandes, “Once the kender know we’re from Ergoth, they’ll not resist us, will they?”
Mandes shrugged. “No one can predict a kender’s mood, not even another kender.”
“In that case, we’ll keep clear of them as much as we can.” He ordered a standard bearer to ride at the head of the column, displaying the colors of the empire.
They moved out at dawn, fording a shallow stream and entering the ancient forest. Trees here were twice the size of the oldest specimens in the smaller Ropunt woodland, giving the forest more the look of the primeval Great Green. Kiya and Miya were quite taken with their surroundings. It reminded them of home.
According to a map Tol had borrowed from Valaran, the stream they crossed was called Fingle’s Creek. It flowed directly into Hylo Bay, by the town of Old Port. Several well-worn paths followed the creek to the sea. Tol’s column glimpsed a number of kender in the woods, but they melted into the trees at the sight of so many armed men. Ever after, though they saw no one, the Ergothians knew many sharp eyes were watching them with great interest.
The creek broadened into a sizable river about the same time the first whiffs of sea air reached the marching soldiers. Tol reined in Cloud and surveyed the water from bank to bank. A few rickety piers poked out from under the trees, and nothing larger than a canoe was in sight. The kender were indifferent sailors but fanatical traders, and the lack of activity on the river told Tol that either word of the Ergothians’ coming had quieted traffic, or the force responsible for Tylocost’s defeat had cleared the area of commerce.
He asked Mandes, “Can you sense anything untoward?”
“I’m not a seer, my lord. My specialties are potions and perfumes, and I’ve begun studying ways to command the clouds-”
