‘Unique until now,’ said Nakor. ‘For this Emerald Queen may be another such as he.’
The men muttered, and Calis said, ‘For reasons I only half understand, my father’s nature is that of the human boy –’
Nakor interrupted again. ‘That is for another time. I know why, and these men don’t need to.’ To the men he said, ‘It’s simply true. Tomas is a man, with a human heart, despite his power. But this woman, this one who called herself Lady Clovis a long time ago –’
Hatonis said, ‘The Emerald Queen is Lady Clovis! It’s been nearly twenty-five years since she fled the city with Valgasha and Dahakon.’
Nakor shrugged. ‘It’s her body.’
‘The point,’ continued Calis, ‘is that if the Pantathians are using their magic to do with this woman what others did with my father …’
Calis spoke briefly of how his father, a boy from the Far Coast, had come to wear ancient armor that magically gave him the memories and powers of one of the ancient Dragon Lords. ‘Nakor is convinced,’ he finished, ‘that this Emerald Queen is a mortal woman he once knew, with magic ability, but still much like you, who is undergoing a transformation much as my father did more than fifty years ago.’
‘Then another Dragon Lord may soon be among us,’ finished Nakor.
Biggo said, ‘Why can’t your father settle her for once and for all – then we can all go home?’
Calis said, ‘There’s more to this than two Dragon Lords facing off. More than I’m willing to tell.’ He glanced at Nakor, who nodded.
Nakor said, ‘She’s not a Valheru yet.’ He nodded with certainty. ‘If she was, she’d come flying across the ocean on a dragon. She wouldn’t need an army.’
Calis said, ‘If you’re completely through?’
Nakor grinned, but without any self-consciousness. ‘Probably not.’
‘In any event, someone must return to Krondor and tell Prince Nicholas what occurs here.’
‘What if only one of us gets back?’ asked Luis. ‘What do we say?’
Calis was silent a moment, then told them, ‘You must say this: the Pantathians bring a host to take by force what they could not take before by guile. Leading them is one in the mantle of a Dragon Lord who may be able to seize the prize. Tomas and Pug must be warned.’
He looked at the faces of the men, orange and yellow from the flicker of the firelight, all discomfort from the cold forgotten. ‘Just those three things. That will be ample warning.
‘Now repeat them: the Pantathians bring a host to take by force what they could not take before by guile …’ The men repeated the sentence as if learning a lesson in school.
‘Leading them is one in the mantle of a Dragon Lord who may be able to seize the prize.’ The men repeated that.
‘Tomas and Pug must be warned.’ The company repeated that, too. ‘You may be asked a lot of other questions; answer truly and do not embellish or color your account. Truth is our only ally in this. But whatever else, you must remember these three things.’
Nakor said, ‘Now, I will help you understand what each of those three things means, so even if you’re too stupid to remember more than those three sentences, you might at least answer a question correctly.’
A few of the men laughed, but most remained quiet.
Calis turned away and started down the hillside on his hunt, and he wondered silently if he could truly make any of them understand.
Dawn saw shivering men making their way down the trail, frost crunching beneath their boot heels. More than one man had a fever, and all were weak from hunger. Calis had been ahead of them for two days now, and no sign of game had been seen.
Thankfully, water wasn’t a problem, but if they didn’t find food soon, men would begin to die. Nakor’s seemingly inexhaustible supply of oranges helped, but they would not be enough to keep the men alive in this climate. It was cold during the day, and colder at night, plunging below freezing. Without much body fat, through training and the rigors of travel, the men needed more substantial food. Already some were plagued by the stomach flux from eating too many oranges and nothing else.
Erik had never seen Roo look so pale, and he knew he must look the same. They were moving through fairly thick woodlands, devoid of color as the leaves of fall blanketed the ground.
De Loungville turned to signal a halt, when suddenly a shriek cut through the air and arrows came flying. ‘Defensive square!’ shouted de Loungville.
Erik snapped his shield to the front, kneeling to cover as much of his body as possible while the other men in his squad did the same, forming a large square, roughly fifteen men to a side, ready to take the attack.
The brush and nearby piles of leaves exploded with the forms of the men who had been hiding there, and others came running from nearby hiding places. Erik saw the green armbands and shouted, ‘It’s the snakes’ men!’
Steel clashed and swords answered and Erik was suddenly swinging with all his might at a man wearing a full helm. He cleaved through the man’s shield, his sword cutting deep into the left arm, then he was dodging a counterthrust as the man fell forward. Roo stepped behind him and took the attacker under the sword arm, killing him before he hit the ground.
Erik spun to his left and struck at another, while Roo turned to face one running at him full force. The second man leaped forward, smashing shield against shield, knocking the smaller Roo backwards.
In the hollow of the square, de Loungville, Greylock, and three other men formed a flying company, ready to plug any breech. De Loungville stepped forward and quickly killed the man on top of Roo, yanking him off and shouting, ‘Get back in line, Avery! You trying to avoid work?’
Roo rolled to his feet and shook off his dizziness, then half ran, half jumped back into place beside Erik. The battle hung close, with neither side taking the advantage, and Erik wondered how long he could keep this up, as weak from hunger as he was.
Then a shout, quickly followed by another, and men at the rear of the forward portion of the square saw attackers falling, struck from behind by arrows. Calis stood down the trail, quickly taking bead and letting fly, and before they knew someone was behind them, four attackers had fallen.
With the small pause on that one front, de Loungville shouted, ‘Charge them!’ and led his five companions toward the strongest section of the attack.
The attackers were expecting anything but a counterattack, which threw them off balance. Seconds later, they were running for their lives.
Erik chased two men down a narrow pathway, overtaking one and striking him down from behind. The other swung to face him, raising his sword high, and Erik sought to take him with a quick thrust.
The man anticipated this, and Erik’s head rang with the shock of a shield bash to the face. Red lights exploded in his vision and he staggered back, raising his shield in reflex.
Hours of training saved his life as an instant later a sword blow rang on the shield. Erik swung blindly, and felt his own sword strike his opponent’s shield. His vision cleared in time to avoid another strike and the two men backed away a step, acknowledging that, in the other, each faced a dangerous opponent.
From somewhere behind, Erik heard de Loungville’s voice cut through the woods: ‘I want a prisoner!’
Erik tried to shout, and found his mouth didn’t work. He spat and felt a tooth wiggle. He tasted blood and felt his right eye burning as it began to blur with the blood running into it.
Gathering his wits, he shouted, ‘Over here!’
The man facing him, a large weatherbeaten figure of middle years, stood hesitating for a moment, then took another step backwards. ‘Over here!’ Erik shouted again as he attacked the man, rushing him. The man stood to take the attack, but rather than strike an overhand blow, Erik ducked, threw his shoulder behind his shield, and bashed the man, hoping to knock him down.
The man staggered backwards, and Erik drew back his blade, then danced backwards as the other swordsman lashed out. Erik again yelled, ‘Over here,’ and circled to his right, attempting to cut off any avenue of escape.
The man tensed and Erik made ready to counter a blow, when suddenly the man let his sword fall from his hand. He quickly tossed down his shield and took off his helm, which he also threw to the ground.
Erik glanced behind and saw Calis drawing a bead on the man. Erik breathed hard. ‘Took you long enough.’
Calis looked at Erik and smiled slightly. ‘It just seemed like a long time.’
Once the man had surrendered, he was affable enough. His name was Dawar, and he was originally from the city of Hamsa, but for the last seven years a member of a company called Nahoot’s Grand Company.
Calis, de Loungville, and Greylock interviewed the man while Nakor and Sho Pi tended the wounded. Erik’s wounds were superficial: a small cut to the forehead, a cut lip, some loose teeth, and lots of bruises. Sho Pi gave him some herbs to take and told him to sit with his hands over his face doing reiki for at least a half hour, and he might keep those teeth.
He sat on a rock with his hands over his face, elbows on knees, while others around him groaned in pain, those able to do reiki on their own wounds or being cared for by others.
