Arch Wizard

She leaned forward to fix Dyune with a steady look that wasn't quite a glare, and added, 'To your first: no, we know not why we were brought here. We have our suspicions, but they're just that. Our suspicions. Some Aumrarr seem to delight in keeping secrets. I'm going to hope you're not one of them.' Wagging the dagger in her hand like a disapproving finger, she asked, 'As Gar asked and you avoided answering, O Nameless Aumrarr, what's so special about Stormcrag Castle?'

Dyune stared at her for a moment. 'I did, didn't I?' she said slowly. 'Iskarra and Garfist, I am called Dyune. This castle once belonged to a wizard-king, long ago, but for centuries has been a hide-hold of the Aumrarr. A refuge, where we hide folk and things and ourselves, when the need arises.'

'Falconaar say Stormcrag Castle is haunted, and stands lost in the heart of the Raurklor,' Garfist growled, almost accusingly.

The Aumrarr shrugged. 'Well, it is haunted, and does stand near the center of the Raurklor. It's hardly 'lost,' though. We're right in the heart of embattled Ironthorn, with the Lyrose vales all around us.'

'The who?' Iskarra asked sharply.

'Haunted by what, exactly?' Garfist asked, just a little more slowly.

'Ghosts of things-headless floating warriors who swing swords, huge four-armed skeletons fused together out of the bones of many smaller dead beasts-we hopefully won't see. They appear to those who try to walk in and out of Stormcrag, or use magic against its wardings. They are bound to thwart such farers, not harm Aumrarr who fly in and out of the castle.'

'Someone or something keeps this place clean, and mends its leaks and shutters when storms get in,' Iskarra said warningly. 'I don't think you're telling us true and full, Aumrarr.'

'There are ghostly Aumrarr, too, but they keep themselves hidden from non-Aumrarr,' Dyune admitted. 'Forgive me; secrets are all the armor most Aumrarr ever wear; sharing them is not something I am in the habit of doing.' She managed a faint smile. 'Now, I believe you owe me another answer, before I share more.'

'The four who brought us here were Ambrelle, Juskra, Dauntra, and… Lorlarra,' Iskarra replied. 'Now, who or what are 'Lyrose vales,' and why is Ironthorn embattled this time?'

Dyune rolled slowly onto her side and sat up. She was pleased to see that neither her sword nor her dagger were raised menacingly against her. 'You know Ironthorn has three lords, bitter rivals who make war on each other constantly, yes?'

'Yes,' Garfist and Iskarra said together.

'Well, Lord Magrandar Lyrose holds sway over three small valleys that make up southwestern Ironthorn. Those valleys are separated from each other by Harstorm Ridge, a long, steep-sided height that's covered with thick forest and roamed by many monsters-'

'What sort of monsters?' Garfist interrupted suspiciously. The sword did come up, this time.

'Any sort we can find, spell-snare, and bring here,' Dyune told him wryly. 'Prowlcats and sharruk bears, mostly.'

'So 'haunted' Stormcrag Castle stands atop this ridge, and your hungry roaming beasts keep Ironthar away from the gates,' Iskarra put in.

'Exactly. Only the bravest Lyrose foresters set axe to even the outermost trees of Harstorm. None that I know of have dared climb the slopes of the Stormcrag.'

'So we're sitting in the middle of all this right now,' Garfist said slowly. 'The war between the lords; how fares it now? What's befallen this last season or so?'

Dyune shrugged. 'You've time to spare, don't you? Well, now… Ironthorn is mainly farms in the forest, but it has its gemadars, too, so Stormar now know and care about Ironthorn, and-'

'We know about gemadars an' Ironthar swords,' Gar interrupted. 'An' we know Hammerhand is strongest of the three, but Lyrose an' Tesmer defy his rule, calling themselves 'Lord of Ironthorn,' too. Hammerhand is the gauntlet on blood, Lyrose the caltrop, and Tesmer the diamond. Tesmer has most of the gem-mines, but is the least of the three. If I remember me a-right, Burrim is the Hammerhand lord right now, Melvarl- there's a sly, dark sneering villain, if ever I met one! — is Lyrose in Lyraunt Castle, an'… Lance? Ranee?… is Tesmer, an' his lands lie along the Imrush.'

'Irrance Tesmer,' said the Aumrarr, 'and Melvarl lords it no longer. He raped and butchered Lady Venyarla Hammerhand, and Burrim caught and killed him for it. Wherefore Burrim now has no wife, and Magrandar son of Melvarl is Lord Lyrose. A cruel echo of his father; less brains, backbone, and subtlety, though he knows it not.'

'You're telling us,' Iskarra said dryly, 'That it's much safer inside this castle-even with Aumrarr bursting in trying to kill us-than out there in Ironthorn, where the warring never ends.'

Dyune nodded. 'And every visitor becomes another sword in the hand of someone, to use on someone else. Until that sword shatters.'

'Nelthraun,' the darkly handsome man said gently, to the face flickering between his upraised hands in the air before him, 'I truly don't care if the timing is inconvenient, or how many coins this will cost you. I need your warriors armed and hurrying to Ironthorn now. Or I'll need a new Lord of Stelgond.'

He strolled across the room, the floating face hanging in the air staring at him going slowly pale, and added casually, 'If that brutally unsubtle threat isn't sufficiently clear to you, I can make another. This, for instance: gaunch-eels eat humans very slowly, from within. I'm sure you'll find it entertaining to watch your daughter die-it will take days-and then your wife, all the while knowing you'll be next. Unpleasantnesses that can all be avoided, if you just obey me. As you swore to do, when I named you Lord, remember?'

'Y-yes, High Lord Malraun! Of course! I was merely informing you of the effects of mustering my armsmen at this time, not disputing your command! I'll be leading the swords of Stelgond north before nightfall!'

'That's very gratifying to hear,' Malraun purred, and flung his arms wide, ending the spell. The face vanished into a brief-lived cloud of whirling sparks; he strode right through them on his way to the meal that was now waiting for him. Or should be, if certain servants wanted to retain their heads.

In the meantime, his armies were gathering and converging. Armies no other could match-or hope to stop.

The bracelets on Malraun's wrists crackled as the poison-seeking spell awakened. He had not outlasted Arlaghaun, and withstood Narmarkoun all these years, by being careless. The newest Doom had come at last, true, but his scryings had long since told him that Rod Everlar was a blundering weakling who hailed from a far place indeed, who knew very little about magic or Falconfar. There was no need to worry about anything Rod Everlar might do.

Wherefore a relaxed and smug Malraun the Matchless went to enjoy his repast without further care, unaware of one silent, hidden little problem known as Lorontar.

Dyune shook her head. 'Burrim has sons, and a daughter, too, but his real strengths are his fearlessness and clear wits, and his three loyal warcaptains: Darlok, Tarlkond, and Syregorn. He is the strongest, and holds most of Ironthorn-all the northern part-for good reasons.'

'Lyrose is the hated one,' Iskarra murmured.

'Hated by outlander merchants who tell their hatreds to wider Falconfar? Yes. Wanton cruelty, sneering at everyone who's not kin to you, and seizing any traders' wares you like the look of, without paying a lone coin for them, earns such regard. Moreover, the current Lord Lyrose, Magrandar, is driven to outstrip the deeds of a more famous-and far more capable and level-headed-father. His wife Maerelle is as hotheaded as he is, and so are their children. Some summers back, they seemed not only to be rushing to accomplish their own doom, but to have very nearly reached that cliff. Whereupon Magrandar did the only wise thing I've heard of him doing, in all his life. Perhaps he was bullied into it, and perhaps he seized upon it in desperation, after Hammerhand slew his father and came after him, intending to eradicate House Lyrose whatever the cost.'

'He accepted the aid of the wizard Malraun,' Iskarra murmured.

'Eagerly. Malraun's spells hurled back Hammerhand's forces, shattering most of his knights. The Doom gave Lyrose a personal shield that heals wounds dealt by metal weapons and by poison-though he feels the agony and momentary debilitation of the wounds. As far as we Aumrarr can tell, Malraun has been largely absent from Ironthorn since, but he may have given Lyrose far more-or installed his own hidden creatures in Lyraunt Castle, as