wall-“so if there areguards in the corridors, we avoid them. If we cannot, of course, then we kill them as quickly and quietly as we can.”
He glanced at Nemis, who was gazing at the scroll. The mage’sexpression turned suddenly grim, but Vlandar didn’t think anyone else had seenthis. “Everyone eat something and make certain your gear is ready. We leaveshortly.”
He waited until everyone but Nemis and Malowan had moved off, then touched the mage’s arm to get his attention. “What is it? What does itsay?”
Nemis tapped the scroll. “It is a set of orders on where andwhen to raid certain villages in southern Keoland- the dark of the next moon. Icannot tell where it was written.”
Malowan spread the scroll out. “But it is signed, isn’t it?That certainly looks like a signature to me.”
“It is signed,” the mage replied grimly, “by one ‘Eclavdra’.”
“Eclavdra?” Vlandar asked. “Is that a place or a person? Canyou tell?”
“I can tell.” Nemis swallowed. He looked tense. “I had hopedI would not need to tell anyone this, but I see no way past it. Eclavdra is a drow, a dark elf.”
Malowan shook his head. “I thought there were no drow leftanywhere in the Flanaess!”
“Not
“Well,” Vlandar said dubiously, “then how do
“Because the man who was my master in my apprentice dayssought out the drow and pledged himself to their service in exchange for whatever magic they could teach him. They do have some like my old master who serve as their ears and eyes above-ground. Daylight is painful to them. Furthermore, they are so unlike any other race that they would be known for what they are. They are small and delicate to look upon, very black-skinned, with silvery hair. They are dire fighters and dread sorcerers. My master was bound to serve Eclavdra.” Nemis licked his lips. “When he died, I found a way to escapethe drow.”
“You said nothing of this back in Cryllor,” Vlandar said.“Why, I wonder?”
Nemis gave him a bitter smile. “Because I knew you would lookat me the way you are now. ‘He dwelt with drow. Perhaps he served them. Perhapshe is their spy.’ I could think of nothing I might say to persuade you that I amnot. I still cannot.”
“You forget that I can tell if a being serves good or evil,”Malowan said mildly. “Give me your hands.” He gripped them gently then shook hishead. “You are no servant of evil, Nemis, though I had no doubt of that beforenow.”
“That is good enough for me then,” Vlandar said.
“Thank you,” the mage said simply. “I see nothing else usefulin this, and no way to tell where Eclavdra is. If she remains in the great underground city where I left her, there is nothing we can do about her.”
“Then we will do what we can to render her servants lessuseful to her,” Vlandar said. He waited until the mage went off to hisspellbook, then eyed the paladin sidelong. “You are certain of him, Mal?”
“I am.”
“You had better be,” the warrior replied. “Meantime, you andI need to go over this map. I want no dithering once we are inside.”
It was still very dark when the party crouched in a closehuddle near the top of the hill so that Malowan could orient them. The air was cool and damp, and a misty rain fell now and again. By the time they were ready to move on, Lhors’ hair was plastered to his skull where his hood had developeda hole. In the still, pre-dawn air, the party could clearly hear two deep-voices growling curses or insults at each other from the fortress.
Nemis translated in a soft whisper. “That is the towerguard-two young ones who are wet, cold, and out of ale. They have a long hourbefore the relief guards come, and it is so foggy that they can’t see anythinganyway.”
“Not really watching, then,” Khlened whispered.
Plowys scowled at his hands. At the moment, he wasn’tspeaking to anyone. Just as well, Lhors thought, since he had a carrying voice and a whisper sharper than Khlened’s.
As Lhors triple-checked his quiver of javelins, Vlandar gripped Malowan’s fingers and nodded. The paladin started down the slope withAgya on his heels and Nemis bringing up the rear. The others waited. It remained quiet except for the distant conversation of the two guards.
“Rowan, go,” Vlandar breathed.
The ranger eased out of sight, Maera close behind her. Khlened stayed behind only long enough to sheathe the spear he carried. Smart of him, Lhors decided. A man could stab himself, if he slipped on his way down. Lhors checked his own blades for the fourth time to be certain nothing was likely to come loose.
A few more moments passed, then Vlandar tapped Plowys on the shoulder and started down the slope, gesturing for the others to follow. Lhors remembered to take a slow count of two before following. As he reached the shelter of the boulder and brush, he could just make out the sound of a dislodged stone some distance below. Fortunately, one of the tower guards began coughing as if he’d choked on something. His companion broke into raucous laughter.
Vlandar set off once again, Plowys ahead of him and Lhors coming last. The ground beneath his feet was crumbly, but it leveled out before very long.
The fog was thicker down here, and the early morning was still very dark. Lhors could see little except for Vlandar’s reassuring formjust ahead of him, but as they reached the main doors, he could make out Agya doing something to the doors. Picking the lock, he assumed.
A moment later, she stepped back as Malowan and Nemis leaned into one of the huge slabs of wood. The door moved quietly back, just enough to admit them. The mage pointed to the opening and shook his head, signaling that there was no one on the other side of the door. To Lhors, the sight of that vast door three times his height and thicker than his arm brought home that they were about to enter a mighty hall, full of the dreadful creatures that had destroyed his home. He bit his lip.
Vlandar was going in first, sword in one hand and a heavy-bladed javelin in the other. Plowys was right on his heels. The rangers followed. Khlened trailed after, then Malowan and his ward. Nemis gave Lhors a smile probably meant to encourage him and gestured for him to go next. Lhors’fingers moved across his dagger hilt-much good that would be against even ahalf-grown giant! He pulled three javelins from his pack, gripped one in his throwing hand, and drew a deep breath as he crossed the threshold. Nemis eased the door shut behind him.
There was little light except for a flickering torch partway down the passage that led to the guard tower. The place reeked of mold, rotting food, and other things-he didn’t want to think about what they might be. Vlandarturned to smile, then gestured for him to follow.
Rowan and Maera, listening intently, flanked the double doors leading into the great hall. Khlened stepped forward to try the doors, but the rangers gestured a firm
Overhead, one of the tower guards was still coughing, and his companion snarled something. The coughing subsided, there was a sudden
Vlandar signed,
Massive feet clomped down the wooden steps. The others seemed well hidden. Lhors could see none of them except for Nemis, whose lips moved silently-casting a spell perhaps. A keg near the tower hall briefly glowed adull red as the wizard’s magic set in. Some sort of revealing spell, perhaps?Lhors wondered. The mage moved the other way, clambered over a long bench along the west wall, and dropped out of sight.
Lhors’ attention was drawn away from the passage as he sawmovement in the center of the room. Someone stepped out from behind a stack of kegs. Lhors could scarcely believe his eyes. Before anyone could catch him, Plowys had thrown himself back into the open and begun brushing frantically at his hair. Bugs from the cloak, Lhors thought. They must have a nasty sting.
Vlandar leaped back into sight, grabbed the would-be hero’sarm, and began to try to haul him past the cloak rack. It wasn’t much shelter,and Vlandar was checking to make sure the corridor beyond was empty when Plowys caught his breath.
