'Master,' Grengor shouted. 'By the flames, somehow a bottle has been broken nearby.'
Alodar started to answer, but the air totally cleared. A tiny humanoid figure stared back at him out of the diffuse brightness. Scarcely a hand high, with long double-jointed limbs covered with coarse bristly hair, the creature hovered on long, transparent, veined wings that protruded from a misshapen knob in the center of its back. The small head sat oddly out of place before horny shoulder blades and shone with burning eyes above a gross caricature of human nose and mouth.
'Perhaps a broken bottle,' Alodar said at last. 'Or perhaps, Grengor, you indeed were prudent to avoid gazing at the flame these many years. We have an imp among us, no doubt about it.'
Alodar looked into the glowing eyes. He felt a sudden pressure on his shoulders and a weakness in his knees. 'Kneel and submit. Submit to your master.' A thin, reedy voice floated through his mind. 'Resistance is futile when you are so tired.'
Alodar shook his head. 'It speaks,' he said aloud. 'Like a sorcerer, it seeks my free will.' He looked back at the small devil hovering inches in front of his face and tried to concentrate, as he had learned under Kelric's instruction.
'Lay down your defenses,' the voice continued. 'I will pester unceasingly until you do.'
Alodar felt a prickly itching on his chest and back. The teeth in his lower jaw began to ache. He sensed the imp's presence in his mind, a hard and spiny ball that pulsed its message of supremacy. Like the ivoryroot burr, the sphere stabbed into his consciousness, each expansion blotting more of his free thought and increasing the distraction.
'You cannot conquer my will,' the sprite droned on, 'Therefore it must be yours that will falter.'
Alodar's thoughts blurred in confusion. The itching spread to his limbs and the pain in his mouth sharpened. He felt the impulse to do as the sprite said, to be done with the aggravation. But a deeper sense of preservation halted the reaction. He filled his lungs and focused on the throbbing irritation. To shy away from the confrontation would lead only to defeat. Mentally he formed a shell around the sphere and concentrated on expunging it from his mind. 'Away, detestable irritation,' he ordered. 'Back whence you came and bother us no more.'
The pulsing stopped for a moment, but then resumed with increasing frequency. 'Submit, manthing. The itches, boils, and stings at my command will make your existence a torture. An infestation of a thousand fleas is nothing in comparison.'
'Begone,' Alodar yelled as he strained to crush the ball into nothingness. 'Begone before I change my mind and choose instead to keep you in a bottle.' He clinched his fists and increased the mental pressure.
The itching continued, and Alodar felt as if he were plunged in a vat of ravenous beetles. He squeezed his eyes shut. Imagining a great vice, he turned the shaft and closed the plates against the creature. For a second, nothing happened; but then, for the second time, the throbbing paused. Alodar detected a slight relaxation in the feelings which bedeviled him and pressed all the harder. The oscillations began again, but beat irregularly for only a few strokes more. With a gasp, he slammed the vice closed and felt the imp's presence pop from his mind.
Without warning, the dancing brightness suddenly exploded in front of Alodar's nose. With a loud bang, the imp disappeared from view. Alodar blinked twice in surprise and then rubbed his eyes, trying to wipe the afterimages away. He looked quickly up and down the trail. All was quiet with no hint of a breeze.
'An exorcism as good as any in the sagas,' Grengor said. 'Have you managed somehow, master, to study the craft of the wizard as well?'
Alodar slowly shook his head. 'My reaction was instinctive. Probably what any man would do if likewise confronted.' He stopped and ran his hand over his cheek. 'Perhaps my sorcery helped somewhat, although the sensations were remarkedly different. The imp did not have the irresistible tug of an enchanter. If I surrendered, it would have been because I gave my will to him, not because he took it. And for my own part, the sickness and reaction were not there. I just willed him away until he accepted the command.'
'But a sprite nonetheless,' Aeriel marveled. 'Unheard of this far north. It was remarkable enough when some spontaneously appeared in the Fumus Mountains. But here there is no source of exotic flame to help them through. I do not like it, Alodar. Throughout our history, demons have shown little concern for the doings of mankind. But now in the cold north, the interior of smouldering mountains, and the rebelling west, they are everywhere?and in not one case because of the intercession of a wizard.'
Alodar nodded and frowned in thought. He closed his eyes; instantly the vision of the spire sprang into view. 'The wizard in the tomb,' he said. 'He will have the answer.'
Alodar wearily climbed the rise and limped to look over the edge. Even his arms throbbed from the bounces of the trail. Quieting the nomads after the appearance of the imp had taken the better part of the day. Even without further incident their pace seemed to slow. Now at dusk, they would camp still a half day's march from his goal.
Alodar topped the crest and his eyes widened. A high meadow, like a giant platter, rested between peaks which circled on three sides. At the far edge, butting against one of the slopes, was another barbarian camp. He quickly counted the fires and knew that they had found one of the larger tribes. A show of force might not work this time. His force was outnumbered two to one.
Grengor and some of the others clambered to his side. 'A display of peaceful intentions and quickly, too!' the marine said as he scanned the scene. 'We must give them no excuse to draw their blades.'
As the rest of their troop poured over the ridge, a small advance party rapidly was formed. Alodar, Grengor, the rest of the suitors, Vendora, and two of their chieftain allies broke apart from the rest and began marching across the intervening ground to the other camp. The carcasses of two hares swung from an extended lance as an offering of friendship.
A group of similar size left the larger encampment; midway between the two, they met under the darkening sky. Alodar stood at the head of his party, flanked by the two chieftains, and surveyed the men who faced them. Five were simply dressed in loincloths and carried swords and hide-covered shields. Two others wore vests of matted wool, and leather belts circled their waists. The man in the center towered above the rest, as tall as Rendrac had been, but trim and lean, with skin pulled tight over rippling muscles. His hair was jet black, framing deep-set, smouldering eyes over a jaw clamped with determination. His lips were thin lines, ready to challenge or yell a warning; only with difficulty could one imagine them turned upwards in a smile. His vest was lined with leather, and iron bracelets hid each of his massive wrists.
He stood with his fists at his hips and looked in turn at each of the chieftains at Alodar's sides. 'This year the game in these hills is too scarce to feed us all,' he growled. 'The tribesmen of Grak are as hungry as any. Begone back to the lower slopes and we will have no quarrel.'
'We do not come to compete for food,' Basil called over Alodar's shoulder. 'Our direction is southward to acquire great treasure that will make concerns of the stomach a minor affair. We detour to the west only so that you have the opportunity to join and share in the good fortune to come.'
Grak frowned and looked back to the chieftains. 'It is as the lowlander speaks,' one said. 'Already he has showered us with jewels beyond even what you would dream. And mighty fighters will swing their swords among us as well. This one hacked his way through twenty men without the slightest frown of pain.'
Grak looked down at Alodar and shook his head in puzzlement. 'The words of a soft lowlander can be trusted only when a sword is at his throat,' he said. 'Besides this small one, with what other marvels do they widen your eyes?' He took a step forward and shouldered Alodar aside.
Alodar whirled and reached for his sword, Feston stepped in front of Vendora and Duncan began fumbling for the pouch at his side. 'Hold your arms,' Vendora shouted as she saw the dark eyes stare down at her. 'He comes only to look.'
Grak took another step forward and Vendora, stepping from behind Feston's protection, drew herself erect. The nomad reached out and tipped her chin up, studying her face as he would appraise the booty from a battle. Vendora did not move but returned his stare unblinking. Grak touched her hair and ran a few strands through his fingers. 'Like the sun,' he muttered.
'Say the word, my fair lady,' Feston growled. 'I will make this barbarian pay for the indignity he shows your station.'
Grak continued stroking Vendora's hair. Alodar tensed, darting his eyes back to Grak's companions and deciding where to make his first thrust. It had been foolish to bring her along to the parley, he thought. It would have been far better to ignore her command, even though she was the queen.
'He has no perception of my station,' Vendora said at last, still looking Grak in the eye. She paused and then
