of the cellar where they were hidden from sight. A thoroughly beaten Stenmin was yanked unceremoniously to his feet to face his new captors. Menion glanced anxiously at the closed door at the top of the cellar stairway, but no one appeared. Apparently the shout had gone unheeded. Balinor and the others came over to him with smiles of gratitude on their tired faces, clapping him on the back and shaking his hand once again.
«Menion Leah, we owe you more than we can ever hope to give back.» The giant borderman gripped his hand tightly. «I did not think we would ever see you again. Where is Allanon?»
Quickly Menion explained how he had left Allanon and Flick concealed above the camp of the Northland army and come to Callahorn to warn of the impending advance against Tyrsis. Pausing momentarily to gag Stenmin in the event the evil adviser should attempt to call out another warning to the guards posted outside the cellar door, the highlander told of rescuing Shirl Ravenlock, fleeing to Kern and subsequently to the walls of Tyrsis after the island city was besieged and destroyed. His friends listened grimly until he had finished.
«Whatever else may come out of this, highlander,” Hendel declared quietly, «you have proved yourself this day and we shall never forget it.»
«The Border Legion must be re–formed and sent to hold the Mermidon immediately,” Balinor cut in quickly. «We must get word to the lower city. Then we must find my father… and my brother. But I want to secure the palace and the army without a battle. Menion, can we trust Janus Senpre to come to our aid if we call for him?»
«He is loyal to you and to the King.» Menion nodded affirmatively.
«You must get a message to him while we remain here,” the Prince of Callahorn continued, pacing over toward the captive Stenmin. «Once he arrives with help, we should have no trouble — my brother will be left without support. But what of my father…?»
Towering over the dark form of the mystic, he removed the gag from the captive’s mouth and stared coldly down at him. Stenmin met his gaze briefly, his own eyes furtive and filled with hate. The mystic knew he was beaten if Palance was captured and removed as monarch of Callahorn, and he was becoming increasingly desperate as the end drew near and his plans began to break apart. Standing with the Elven brothers and Hendel as Balinor confronted the mysterious captive, Menion found himself wondering what the man had hoped to gain by encouraging Palance to take the steps he had. Certainly it was no mystery why he had supported the distraught and unstable Prince as the new King of Callahorn. His own position was assured with Balinor’s brother ruling. But why had he encouraged the disbanding of the Border Legion when he knew that an invading army was threatening to overrun the little Southland kingdom and put an end to its enlightened monarchy? Why had he gone to such pains to imprison Balinor and to secrete his father in a distant wing of the palace when they could have been quietly disposed of? And why had he tried to kill Menion Leah, a man he had never met before?
«Stenmin, your rule over this land and its people and your domination of my brother are over,” Balinor declared with cold determination. «Whether or not you will ever see the light of another day depends on what you do from now until the time I am again in command of the city. What have you done with my father?»
There was a long moment of silence as the mystic looked desperately around, the dark face ashen with fear.
«He… he is in the north wing… in the tower,” the answer was a whisper.
«If he has been harmed, mystic…»
Balinor turned away sharply, leaving the terrified man momentarily forgotten. Stenmin shrank away against one wall, gazing after the tall figure of the borderman. One hand came up nervously to stroke the small, pointed beard. Menion watched him, almost in pity, and then suddenly something clicked in his mind. An image flashed sharply — a memory of a scene he had witnessed several days earlier on the banks of the Mermidon north of the island of Kern as he had lain concealed on a small hillock overlooking a windy beachhead. That same mannerism — the stroking of a small pointed beard! Now he knew exactly what Stenmin was attempting to do! His face turned to a mask of rage and he started forward, brushing past Balinor as if he wasn’t even there.
«You were the man on the beach — the kidnapper!» he accused in undisguised fury. «You tried to kill me because you thought I would recognize you as the man who kidnapped Shirl — the man who turned her over to the Northlanders. You traitor! You intended to betray us all — to turn the city over to the Warlock Lord!»
Heedless of the cries of his companions, he rushed toward the now hysterical mystic, who somehow managed to evade his initial lunge and break away toward the cellar stairway. Menion was after him with a bound, the gleaming sword of his father raised to strike. Halfway up the stone steps he caught him, one hand jerking the dark form about as the man shrieked in terror. Yet the end did not come, for as the sword drew back and Menion held the maddened Stenmin tightly against the stone wall, the massive door to the ancient cellar suddenly swung open, the thrust of the pull slamming the ironbound wood back against the wall with a jarring crash. Framed in the entryway stood the broad figure of Palance Buckhannah.
Chapter Twenty–Nine
For a moment no one moved. Even the terrified Stenmin had gone limp against the cellar wall, his dark face staring blankly at the silent form that waited statuelike at the top of the ancient stairway. The lined face of the Prince was drained of color, and the eyes reflected a curious mixture of anger and confusion. Resolutely, Menion Leah met those searching eyes, his sword arm lowering slowly, his own hatred fading with the sudden turn of events. Their lives might all be forfeited if he didn’t act fast. Roughly he yanked Stenmin to his feet and threw him disdainfully toward the Prince.
«Here is your traitor, Palance — the real enemy of Callahorn. This is the man who gave Shirl Ravenlock to the Northlanders. This is the man who would give Tyrsis to the Warlock Lord…»
«My Lord, you’ve come just in time.» The mystic had recovered his wits enough to cut Menion off before any more damage could be done. He stumbled fearfully to his feet and rushed up the stairs, throwing himself at Palance’s feet and pointing down at the company of friends. «I discovered them escaping — I was running to warn you! The highlander is a friend of Balinor — he came to kill you!» The words were tumbling out of the man’s mouth in undisguised hatred as he groped at his benefactor’s tunic and raised himself slowly to his side. «They would have killed me — and then you, my Lord. Can’t you see what is happening?»
Menion fought down the urge to rush up the steps and cut the evil mystic’s lying tongue out, forcing himself to remain outwardly calm, his gaze riveted on that of the stunned Palance Buckhannah.
«You have been betrayed by this man, Palance,” he continued evenly. «He has poisoned your heart and your mind. He has sapped you of your will to think for yourself. He cares nothing for you, he cares nothing for this land, which he has so cheaply sold to the enemy that has already destroyed Kern.» Stenmin roared in fury, but Menion continued in stoney disregard. «You once said we would be friends, and friends must have trust for each other. Do not be deceived now, or your kingdom will surely be lost.»
At the bottom of the stairway, Balinor and his friends watched silently, afraid that any distraction might break the strange spell Menion Leah was weaving, for Palance was still listening, his clouded mind struggling to break the wall of confusion surrounding it. Slowly he stepped forward on the landing, closing the door quietly behind him and brushing past Stenmin as if he hadn’t seen him. His adviser hesitated in confusion, glancing uncertainly at the cellar door as if debating the wisdom of attempting to flee. But he was not yet prepared to accept defeat, and he whirled quickly, catching Palance by the arm and thrusting his lean face next to the man’s ear.
«Are you mad? Are you as insane as some say, my King?» he whispered venomously. «Will you throw everything away now — give it all back to your brother? Was he meant to be king — or you? This is all a lie! The Prince of Leah is a friend to Allanon.»
Palance turned toward him slightly, his eyes widening.
«Yes, Allanon!» Stenmin knew he had struck a nerve and was determined to pursue it. «Who do you think seized your betrothed from her home in Kern? This man who speaks of friendship was part of the kidnapping — it was all a ruse to get inside the palace and then assassinate you. You were to be killed!»
Below the stairway, Hendel took a step forward, but Balinor put out a restraining hand. Menion stood quietly, knowing that any sudden move now would only confirm Stenmin’s charges. He directed a withering glance at the wily mystic, turning quickly back to Palance and shaking his head.
«He is a traitor. He belongs to the Warlock Lord.»
