The Tyranny of the Night

They stared at those restless wolf things, growing more defined and bold.

'Mohkam. Akir. Bring the falcon.'

'What're you going to do, Captain?'

'I'm going to save your sorry asses. Unless you'd rather stand around asking me questions. Heged. Agban. Bring the money chest. Bone. I need a pail of gravel. Norts. Get a keg of firepowder. Az. Get a reliable torch going. All of you, do it on the run. Because if you don't you'll all be dead in about five minutes.' Else ignored his own racing pulse. He did not look at the wolves directly. They looked like the real thing, now, impatient, snapping at one another. But they were half the size of real wolves, which had been exterminated in this region ages ago. They did not fear men. They were amongst the most common terrors generated by the Instrumentalities of the Night, known wherever men sat round campfires and looked out at the eyes of the Night They were more dangerous in number than as individuals. Any semicompetent hedge wizard could run a singleton off or keep a pack from breaking into the circle of light. Even a normal, unskilled man could handle a singleton if he kept his wits about him. Powdered wolfbane would chase those spawn of Night

Mohkam and Akir came running with the falcon, pushing the carriage. The little brass cannon could be as dangerous to its operators as to its target It had not been fired since its test shots at the foundry where it had been cast. Falcons were new, secret weapons meant to be used only in desperate circumstances. 'Firepowder!' Else thundered. 'Get moving! Bone! You lazy old fart, let's go! Heged! Agban! Where are you? Move it! Come on. Come on. Get that firepowder loaded. Charge and a half.'

They looked at him warily but did as they were told. Bone arrived with the gravel. 'This shit is everywhere when you're trying to sleep on the ground. But try to find a gallon when you need it.'

'Get the chest open. Just silver. Fast. Mix it with the gravel.'

'Captain! You can't…'

'Bitch about it later. Akir. Prime it. Heged. Agban. Load the shot. Move. Move.' The bogon would not wait.

Seconds later, Agban jumped back. 'It's ready.'

'Get the ram out.'

'Oh. Yeah.'

Else said, 'Good. Done with time to spare. Az. Get your ass over here. With the torch.'

The wizard sputtered. He was no common soldier. He was a Master of Ghosts.

'You're the one who knows when to touch the fire. Get in here and do it.'

The wolf shapes dared the light, testing the encampment's wards. The bogon towered eighteen feet high and eight wide, hunched forward like an ape. Its eyes had gained definition.

'Az!'

The wizard shook as he stepped up beside the falcon.

'The rest of you, get down. Get behind something. Or go calm the horses and oxen.' He was pleased that the bogon had chosen to manifest on the side away from the animals. And wondered if there was any significance to that.

In an eye's blink the bogon finished manifesting.

Al-Azer er-Selim set torch to match hole.

The falcon gouted flame, thunder, and a vast cloud of sulfurous smoke. Else understood instantly that he had been right to overcharge. The firepowder had been damp. It had burned slow. It created so much smoke that, for half a minute, it was impossible to discover the effect of the shot.

Ah! That part had gone perfectly. The bogon was down, full of holes, with darkness evaporating off it like little streamers of black steam. Shredded wolf lay scattered around the monster. Beyond, brush had been leveled and trees stripped of their bark. Several small fires burned out there, already dying. And then there was the quiet, a silence as profound as that in the Void before God created Heaven and Earth.

Awed swearing began to leak from the nearest raiders.

'Bone. Mohkam. Akir. Have you checked the falcon for cracks? Have you swabbed the embers out? Are we ready if that thing gets up off the ground?'

The Master of Ghosts said, 'The bogon won't bother us, Captain. It won't bother anyone ever again.'

'Then the bogon is no concern anymore, Az. Now we worry about the man who raised it. It isn't him that we just killed.'

'Worth remembering. He'll know that he failed. And awareness of the bogon's destruction will spread fast Though not how or why. A secret to be kept for sure. A lot of folk will think that some terrible feat of sorcery did it. We should get out of here fast. Before people come to investigate. We aren't supposed to be here.'

'We can't move now. Not with our cargo. And I need to collect up as much of the silver as I can.'

'This isn't our territory, Captain, whatever Gordimer and the Kaif say. The Rh?n, the Arnhander princes, and the Kaif of Qasr al-Zed claim it, too. Their presence is more concrete. We have several unfriendly fortresses within a half day's travel. Even those mad Unbelievers from the west have their Masters of Ghosts. Anyone who owns a horse is going to head this way. The destruction of a bogon is a major event. You don't dare ignore it.'

'You're right, Az. Every word true. And every faction in the Holy Lands has heard that a band of foreigners is skulking around.' You could evade men's eyes but only the most powerful sorcerers could avoid being noticed by the Instrumentalities of the Night. Else had no means of keeping his force concealed. His tools were speed and deception.

His band had drawn little attention so far. They had collected what they had gone after. They were well on their way home again.

Az continued, 'There might even be wild tribesmen around.'

'There might be. They'd have to be stupid to think that we're an easy chance.'

That could not be denied. Particularly if Else ordered the Sha-lug standard revealed. The wild tribes showed the slave soldiers great respect. Gordimer the Lion, the warrior slave so great that he mastered the mighty and ancient kingdom of Dreanger, would have it no other way. That lesson had been bloodily taught several times.

Else did not want to reveal the band's allegiance. Too many questions would be asked. Once those started it would not be long before someone unfriendly put answers together. Who knew what evil would come of that?

Else asked, 'Do we have any reason to worry again tonight? Will there be another monster?'

'I think not.'

'Then let's stand down. Get some rest. Bone. I want to be ready to move out as soon as we have enough light. Even if we don't go right away. Az, have you checked our cargo?'

'I haven't, personally. The job is being done. Falaq!'

Of course the job was being done. Else's companions were the best of the Sha-lug. He did not need to mother them.

As soon as there was light sufficient to intimidate the Night, Else sent scouts out, posted sentries at the wood's edge, and had men start collecting the coins that had killed the bogon. He did not expect to recover many. There would be no time. Az was right. Soldiers from the Arnhander city-states, and everyone else interested in the Wells of Ihrian, would head for Esther's Wood the moment their Masters of Ghosts told them it was safe.

Else observed, 'This land could see some blood spilled before the Tyranny of the Night reclaims it.'

Someone suggested, 'Suppose we check in with God? We could ask Him to make sure we don't do any of the bleeding.'

Else stared at the spot where the Bogon had fallen. The earth was burned barren, the soil cooked to dust, across a fifteen-foot circle. That formed a shallow bowl a foot deep in the middle. What looked like an obsidian egg six inches on its longer axis lay there. It still radiated heat. Likewise, occasional streamers of mist curled away. You could see into the egg. Which, Else decided, was more kidney-shaped than egg-shaped. Silver coins remained trapped there. The coin nearest the egg's surface had melted around its rim. The inscriptions upon it were illegible.

Else asked, 'The bogon can't pull itself back together here, can it, Az? It can't hatch out of this egg? It isn't some kind of phoenix?'

'No. A bogon is really strong. It's a king of spirits. But it's as simple as it's strong. Easy to kill in its manifest