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The Riftwar Legacy: The Complete 4-Book Collection
The Riftwar Legacy: The Complete 4-Book Collection
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The Riftwar Legacy: The Complete 4-Book Collection


Owyn shrugged. ‘A boy’s foolishness. My father had a servant, a magician from the north named Patrus who lived with us for a time. He taught me my first lessons. After I studied a while at Stardock, I came to understand that he wasn’t very powerful as magicians go, but he was very smart. He understood things. I think that’s what I was really looking for, how to understand the world better.’

Gorath was silent a while, then at last he said, ‘I think we all would be better off if more of us sought understanding and fewer of us sought power.’ He glanced at the fading light. ‘Come, it is time.’

They had been waiting for darkness, to attempt to slip out of the precinct around the fortress. Moredhel warriors and renegade humans, infantry and mounted soldiers had been moving for hours. At first they had assumed they were the object of a search, but after a while it was clear this was far more than a hunt for a pair of fugitives. This was a mobilization.

Gorath led them through a series of snow-filled gullies, over a hill, and then down a long draw that led to a flat plain south of the city. ‘The plain of Sar-Sargoth,’ said Gorath. ‘Legend has it this is where the Valheru met in council. Great circles of dragons rested there while their riders assembled.’

Owyn saw a sea of tents and a large pavilion in the centre, in front of which rose a standard: a crimson field upon which a white leopard crouched. ‘How do we get around that camp?’

‘We don’t,’ said Gorath, leading him toward the centre of the encampment. ‘If we don’t find friends here, at least I think we shall not find enemies.’

Several moredhel warriors glanced at Gorath and Owyn as they walked through the camp. They appeared indifferent to Gorath and Owyn’s approach, though one got up and ran ahead. By the time they reached the large pavilion, the occupant stood waiting at the door to greet them.

‘Greetings, Gorath of the Ardanien. Were not the dungeons of Sar-Sargoth to your liking?’ The speaker was a striking female moredhel. Tall and regal of features, her hair was gathered into a knot behind her and allowed to fall in a cascade of dark red. She wore armour in the same fashion as the males of her tribe, yet even in her warrior’s garb, Owyn was struck by her beauty. Alien and strange it was, but no less compelling for that. She stepped aside, indicating that they might enter. She waved them to a place near a small fire. ‘Eat, rest for a while. I thought Delekhan would have killed you by now. Your escape will cause him no little discomfort.’

‘You sound pleased at the prospect, Liallan.’

‘My husband’s rise took me with it, Gorath,’ she said, ‘but our marriage had nothing to do with affection. It was a wedding of powerful tribes, to seize control of our respective clans, and to keep them from shedding one another’s blood … for a time. Nothing more.’

‘Is that why the charade, Liallan? You don’t believe in Delekhan’s mad plans any more than I, yet you openly support him. You command a tribe as powerful as his own; your influence in council is second to none but Narab.’

‘You’ve been gone from us too long, Gorath. Much has changed in a short while. Narab even now musters his clan, and turns to face Delekhan.’ She sat down next to Gorath and took a small piece of meat from a simmering pot next to the fire. She placed it between Gorath’s teeth in a gesture that was clearly seductive, yet even Owyn could tell it was a ritual rather than an open invitation. ‘Our new master is displeased with Narab. Something to do with your capture, I believe.’

Gorath accepted the ritual offer of food, then handed a bowl to Owyn. Owyn tore off a large piece of bread from a loaf next to the plate and used it to scoop up a mouthful of hot stew. Gorath said, ‘Why would your husband be upset with my capture? He certainly tried hard enough to keep me from fleeing south.’

Liallan sat back. She looked at Gorath for a moment, then said, ‘You are a warrior of great honour, Gorath, and your bravery is unquestioned, as well as your caretaking of your clan, but you are naive at times.’

Gorath looked ready to take umbrage and studied the woman with a narrow gaze. ‘You come close to giving insult.’

‘Don’t take it as such. In these cynical days, your openness and honesty are refreshing.’ She reached up and unbuckled her breastplate, removing her armour. Owyn saw she wore a simple sleeveless tunic beneath the armour. She possessed a long neck and slender arms, yet there was nothing frail about her. Her movements hinted at speed, and the muscles of her arms and neck showed power. She was a dangerous woman, by any race’s measure.

‘What are you saying, Liallan?’

‘I’m saying you were picked for a role. You were the ideal clan chieftain for this part.’

‘I was allowed to escape?’

Liallan said, ‘Who do you think engineered your escape from Sar-Sargoth all those months ago?’ After a moment, she said, ‘I did. Just as I misdirected Delekhan’s soldiers into the snow plains while Obkhar’s family fled to the mountains near the Lake of the Sky. If they avoided the eledhel and the dwarves at Stone Mountain, they may be safely back in the Green Heart.’

‘Why?’ asked Gorath.

‘To keep Delekhan busy,’ said Liallan. ‘He has his timetable, I have mine. It suits my purpose to delay his assault of the Kingdom a while longer. His stupidity in treating with Narab will buy me another month. Once Narab’s head is upon a pole at Sar-Sargoth’s gate, it will take at least a month for Delekhan to bully the fractious clan leaders back into obeying him without question. Delekhan wants an early-spring campaign; I prefer one a little later in the year.’

Owyn asked, ‘Did you help us escape?’

‘This time? No,’ said Liallan. ‘I reap no gain in doing so. Whatever you may have done, you achieved on your own.’

Owyn said, ‘No, someone else opened that cage.’

‘Then I suspect it may have been Narab. That fit of pique is what I would expect of him. If Delekhan threatens him for capturing you, then why not release you?’

‘Will you help us again?’ asked Gorath.

‘I will consider such an effort an investment against the future of the Northlands, Gorath. Killing you or turning you over to my husband gains me nothing. Letting you go costs me little, and in the future your help may be useful. I have agents throughout the Northlands, and I will send word to certain of them to aid your travels south.’

Gorath said, ‘I will do what I can to assist you if fate allows.’

She smiled, revealing perfect white teeth. ‘Rest for a while, then I will have horses ready for you. Take to the west, and avoid the roads. The best route is by what the humans call the Inclindel Gap, south of Sar-Isbandia. But avoid the village of Harlik, for Moraeulf camps there and he knows you well.’

She stretched and Owyn was again struck by her beauty and catlike grace. ‘Rest now, for in the morning things will become quite lively outside the city. Narab’s clan answers his call, and Delekhan will no doubt call down the wrath of the Six upon him. It should be over shortly.’

‘Who are these six magicians?’ asked Gorath.

Liallan’s voice dropped to a near-whisper, as if someone might be listening. ‘They advise, and more. They scheme into the night with Delekhan. Only a few see them, and no one knows who they truly are. It was they who advised Delekhan to obliterate your tribe.’

‘But why?’ demanded Gorath. ‘We were never among Delekhan’s rivals, even if we served only with reluctance.’

‘Because you were small, and your tribe had long been one to stay aloof. When your father died, you took your people and fled to the cold northern mountains. Wise, but it made you suspect. You avenged yourself, which was expected, but among those you killed were those related to Delekhan by blood. He could not ignore your acts, for he was under scrutiny, and he was driven by his need for powerful allies. In short, you made a bitter enemy, and your tribe’s destruction was an effective object lesson. As will be Narab’s death.’

‘Did the Six order that?’

Liallan shrugged. ‘I do not know, but I would not be surprised if my husband didn’t hear warnings over the last few months casting doubts on Narab and Nago. Your slaying of Nago did Delekhan a favour. He was reluctant to move against one brother while the other was alive. Together, they were the two most powerful spell-casters of our nation, and their clan is not one that can be ignored.’

Gorath ate in silence a moment, then said, ‘Where did the Six come from?’

‘No one knows. No one even knows what race claim them. They are Spellweavers far beyond the powers of our race. Some suspect they may be Pantathians come among us again.’

‘Murmandamus,’ Gorath said softly.

‘Yes,’ said Liallan. ‘The same as those who served the Marked One.’

‘Do they abide in Sar-Sargoth?’

‘When they counsel Delekhan. Presently they are with his son Moraeulf in Harlik. They seek out more fugitives from your clan, those who are trying to win freedom and get south to the Green Heart.’

Gorath said, ‘Then I have even more pressing reasons to carry warning to Prince Arutha. If I cannot get my hands around Delekhan’s throat, I will aid one who will bring him low.’

‘Tread carefully,’ said Liallan.

To Owyn it sounded as if she were being sincere in her concern.

‘Perhaps all our schemes will bear fruit. If I raise my Snow Leopard banner above the walls of Sar-Sargoth, Gorath, you and the surviving Ardanien will be welcome to return to the heart of their people.’

Gorath’s expression was guarded. ‘You are as much to be feared as Delekhan, Liallan.’

She smiled and again looked dangerous. ‘Only by those who seek to harm me or my tribe, Gorath. Return to your northern mountains in peace if that day comes.’ She stood, and said, ‘Rest. I will have horses outside before sunrise.’ As she reached the doorway, she looked over her shoulder and said, ‘Hide well and move quickly, Gorath. If you return to my sight before Delekhan is overthrown, I must needs present him with your head as a peace offering.’

‘I understand, Liallan. You’ve been generous to one humbled by fate.’