"Enough to ruin the market."

VisiG.o.dred's eyebrows rose. "The Treasure of Ilkazar?"

Ragnarson nodded."You've found it, then? Congratulations. I knew you'd make it someday. Any big plans?"

"It wasn't me. Somebody else found it. You know the name. Varthlokkur."

The wizard's eyes narrowed. "That's not a good name to throw around. What's the connection?"

"Besides gold, he's got another treasure-of sorts. My friend Mocker's wife. You heard about the fall of the Storm Kings?"

"Who hasn't? News travels fast in this business." VisiG.o.dred's eyes sparkled. There was a joke hidden somewhere in that remark.

"No doubt."

"And I know Varthlokkur was involved. It's been a long time since he's stirred any trouble. He's got the Brotherhood into a state you can't imagine. And all because of a woman, eh?"

Elana nodded.

VisiG.o.dred lent her a quick, warm smile, and continued, "One Nepanthe, I believe. She catches his fancy, but not vice versa. So he destroys Ravenkrak and carries her off. Traditional sort of thing for people who have the power to make it stick. My colleagues are chasing their tails because of it. A reemergence of the Empire Destroyer... To understate, it's disturbing.

"The thing is, see, he isn't part of the gang." VisiG.o.dred chuckled. "The boys in the Prime Circle don't like it when we have these disturbances by somebody who doesn't belong to the club. They can't control him." In a more serious tone, he added, "We don't like having that nasty a potential enemy roaming around out here right now. Too many strange things are happening in the east. We've held several emergency sessions of the Prime Circle. Nothing got decided, of course. Nothing ever will as long as we have to put up with that blowhard Zindahjira.

"But let's get back to the,point. What's your connection with all this?"

"Nepanthe married Mocker the night before Ravenkrak fell. And now Mocker is headed for Fangdred.

He thinks he's going to rescue her."

"Ah. So. I've overlooked your part in this, haven't I? Rendel Grimnason? You could've picked a more melodic name. So. You're scared the wolf won't bother distinguishing the sheep from the goats, eh?"

VisiG.o.dred chuckled. "Our fat friend has put you and bin Yousif into a tight spot, eh? He's hung a sword over your heads, so to speak. Let me guess. You want my help."

Elana's head bobbed. Ragnarson nodded once, quickly.

"My Power is useless against his. That's the man who crushed the Empire, Bragi. He defeated the wizards of llkazar, whom even the Tervola held in respect. He trained in Shinsan, with Chin, Wu, Feng, and the Princes Thaumaturge themselves. That's something you shouldn't ever forget. The ent.i.ty we call Varthlokkur was, in a way, created in Shinsan. The Dread Empire will always be part of his story."

"I know."He didn't. To him the Dread Empire had the substance of a ghost. Shinsan was just a bogeyman supposedly hiding out somewhere in the far east. "We didn't expect you to go it alone. The surviving Storm Kings and..." He let it trail off. Presenting the other name would be tricky.

"And?"

"Zindahjira. Maybe. Haroun's trying to sign him up now."

"That stubborn fool? Bin Yousif will need a week just to get him to admit I'm alive. I have the audacity to survive everything he throws at me."

"There's a potent bribe. Turran is willing to give up the Horn of the Star Rider and his storm-sender if you'll help. One thing for each of you."

"The Windmjirnerhorn, eh? Tempting tidbit, Bragi, but everybody, except the Star Rider, who has anything to do with it gets the dirty end. Still, the proposition has merit. If I could be sure that Zindahjira would get the Horn. He deserves it. What would you want me to do?"

"Nothing that overt, really. Just protect Mocker so he has a chance to get where he's going. And maybe give him a little help when he gets there."

"Hmm. Let's look at the Register." The wizard went to a table, dug deep into a pile of books. He found what he wanted, started back.

Billy the monkey, astride a leopard and wielding a wooden sword, galloped past, close behind a terrified rat. VisiG.o.dred dodged nimbly and continued to the table. "Billy's h.e.l.l on rats. He thinks. Tooth does the real work, though. Watch. She'll bring the rat around to Claw."

She did. Claw, who seemed to be asleep, moved one paw as the rat shot past. End of chase.

"Remarkably intelligent animals," VisiG.o.dred noted. "So is Billy. Well, here we are. The Register. If Zindahjira and I compliment each other, I'll consider the job. a.s.suming he'll go along. But there'll be a price."

"I thought so. There always is. But it seems to me that you owe me a favor."

"And you owe me several. That more than cancels out, I'd say. I was thinking you could help me make sure the Horn goes where it's best deserved. Ah. Here we are. Zindahjira." He turned a page, peered at it closely. "Hmm. Uh-huh." One thin finger raced across the page as he read. Then he looked up, smiling.

"We'd make a good team if the old windbag could keep his temper under control. But we still wouldn't be any match for Varthlokkur. Not in a heads-up fight. Really, the Princes Thaumaturge are the only men alive who could meet him one-on-one and have a chance."

A shriek interrupted VisiG.o.dred. He turned. Tooth and Claw had caught a dwarf between them. The fellow wasn't much bigger than Billy. "Tooth! Claw! Behave!" The cats let silent snarls relax into bored yawns, dropped onto their bellies. Their tails lashed slowly. Their eyes tracked the dwarf as he hurried past.

"My apprentice. What is it, Marco?" VisiG.o.dred asked. "And I do wish you'd stop teasing the cats."

The dwarf grinned lopsidedly, as if he had a lot to say about keeping leopards in the house but had tokeep it to himself because VisiG.o.dred had heard it all before. "There's an owl in the parlor. Wants to see a Captain Ragnarson. Says he's f.a.gged and wants to deliver his message so he can get some sleep. Very polite, for an owl. But if you ask me, he's found Gert up in the tower and it ain't sleep he's got on his feeble mind."

Ragnarson's eyebrows rose. It wasn't every day you met a man who talked to owls. VisiG.o.dred smiled.

"Show him in, Marco. No, go around the other way. I'll let the cats have you one of these days." To Ragnarson, "A message from Zindahjira, no doubt. But routed through you because of his pride."

"Then Haroun must've made good time. It's a b.i.t.c.h of a trip to the Seydar Sea."

The dwarf returned with a huge owl perched on his shoulder. The bird made sounds in his ear. "He don't like being out in the daytime."

The owl fluttered to the table and stalked over to Ragnarson. It lifted a tufted leg. Bragi tried to avoid its wise, darkness-filled eyes as he removed the message. Then the bird took wing and was gone.

Ragnarson examined the parchment, pa.s.sed it on to VisiG.o.dred.

The wizard scanned it. "Ah, he's willing. One small hurrah for greed, Bragi. It's just a matter of negotiation now. And here comes dinner. Make yourselves comfortable. You'll be here a while. Marco!

Come back here! I've got a job for you." VisiG.o.dred smiled again.

Ragnarson groaned silently, understanding. He and Elana were going to be hostages against the chance that they were working another hoax like the one that had destroyed Ravenkrak.

VisiG.o.dred began giving instructions to a terribly unhappy dwarf.

Turran and his brothers gave Iwa Skolovda a wide berth in pa.s.sing. That city's new masters would have liked nothing better than to have had Storm King heads to decorate pikes over its gates. A day and fifty miles east of Iwa Skolovda, riding hard and with a snowstorm running before them, they happened on an abandoned farmhouse.

"What should we send?" Brock asked as they settled in.

"All we can, here to Fangdred, till we find out where he is," Turran replied. "After we get help from those wizards, we can relax."

That night a heavy snow carpeted Shara and the western Dragon's Teeth. Next night there was another fall, and another the night following, and so on till the end of the week. Travel in East Heatherland, Shara, and the Dragon's Teeth became virtually impossible.

The eighth day brought a change in schedule. Toward sundown, with Turran readying the sending gear, taciturn Brock brewing tea, and Jerrad and Valther out collecting firewood, the air over the cottage was split by an echoing scream. Something hit the roof with a resounding thump, rolled off into the snowdrifts against the north wall. Muted, colorful invective followed, then there was a knock at the door. Turran answered it, found a shivering, grumbling dwarf awaiting his response.

"d.a.m.ned roc!" the dwarf snarled as he pushed into the cottage. "Sense of humor like you never saw.

Likes to watch things fall. Especially when they kick and scream on the way down. Marco's the name.

Hey! You! How about some of that tea? I'm free/ing my a.s.s off. You Turran?" he asked, of Turran.

"Yeah? Like I said, I'm Marco. From Mendalayas. VisiG.o.dred sent me, and a pox on the old sumb.i.t.c.h.All the way to the Seydar Sea, a week with that blowhard Zindahjira, and now the devil's own time finding you guys. Ah. Tea. Fit for the G.o.ds. I'll b.i.t.c.h about it in the morning, but it's ambrosia tonight.

Look, Turran, the boss sent some junk for you. A map." He produced it. "And this thingee'll put you through to VisiG.o.dred and Zindahjira when you want. They're on twenty-four hour watch at Mendalayas.

Must be one h.e.l.l of a broad."

Marco talked and talked. Turran seldom slipped a word in. The dwarf antic.i.p.ated all his questions. He pointed out the salient features of the land between the farmhouse and Fangdred. He located Mocker, astonishing Turran. The fat man had gotten a lot further than he had expected, having crossed Shara and made it well into the foothills of the Dragon's Teeth.

"This gimmick," said Marco, after taking a last item from his pack, "will give you a permanent view of what your friend is doing. Everything, so have a little respect." It seemed to be a stone, a crystal, a duplicate of the object meant to provide contact with VisiG.o.dred and Zindahjira. "The boss would've sent more, but they're all tied up. One for the woman, one for the wizard, one for the Old Man of the Mountain. And another to keep an eye on Zindahjira."

Turran smiled thoughtfully, said, "And one for myself and each of my brothers, no doubt. And still another for you."

The dwarf winked and said, "Let's get on it. It's cold out here, there ain't no girls, and I can't go home where there are till this c.r.a.p's over. First order of business is a conference. VisiG.o.dred and Zindahjira are hanging around waiting for you."

FIFTEEN: The Light of Arrows as They Sped, the Flash of a Glittering Spear

Tooth and Claw nervously patrolled the reorganized study, in no mood for loafing by the fire. Billy lay curled in VisiG.o.dred's lap, sleeping fitfully, plagued by unhappy monkey dreams. Perhaps the leopards of his mind were closing on the running ghost of his monkey-imagination. Servants came and went, bringing refreshments and carrying away dirty mugs and dishes, or tending the roaring fire. They were as jittery as the pets. At the table where VisiG.o.dred and Ragnarson hunched over one of the wizard's seeing-stones, the tension was doubly thick. Mocker had moved to within fifty miles of Fangdred. And Varthlokkur had shown signs, finally, of getting ready to defend himself. An a.s.sa.s.sin had been sent out from the Castle of Wind. He and Mocker would meet in a matter of hours.

But hours there were, and worrying before the fact was useless. Ragnarson said as much.

"You're right," VisiG.o.dred replied softly, with a tremor. "But it's not the encounter that worries me. We'll get him past the ambush. Zindahjira's studying the terrain now, setting it up. The problem is, how do we do it without getting caught?" He paused, chuckled, continued, "That ham-hand Zindahjira wanted to use a smoke-demon. Might as well write our names in fire on a midnight sky."

Ragnarson, from beneath his brows as he watched the crystal ball, studied VisiG.o.dred's face. Behind the gray beard and nonchalance, the wizard was pale. Beads of perspiration glittered on his forehead. Was the dread attached to Varthlokkur really that well-founded? Varthlokkur hadn't done anything remarkable that he could see. He considered hints dropped during his conversation with Haroun the previous evening, via the crystals. Zindahjira was scared silly.

He jumped when he felt the touch on his shoulder. The hand slipped down his back. "Anything happening?" Elana whispered."No. We're waiting for the guy to pick his ambush. Then we'll decide what to do about it. It'll be hours yet."

She ran slim fingers through his hair, stepped behind him, ma.s.saged his neck and shoulders. "You've got to get some sleep," she said.

Bragi turned, smiled weakly, put his hands on her shoulders, gave her a peck on the forehead, said, "You're a regular mother hen. Practicing?"

"Pooh! Typical male reaction. I was just telling you what you're too numb to notice for yourself. Really, you're going to pa.s.s out if you don't get some rest."

"Uhm. Guess I am a little groggy. I'll rest after we get Mocker through this."

VisiG.o.dred leaned forward, peered into the globe. "I think this's what we're waiting for," he said, his voice more animated than earlier.

Ragnarson and Elana jostled behind him, trying to watch over his shoulder. Tooth and Claw stopped pacing, waited expectantly. Billy stirred in VisiG.o.dred's lap, uncurled, sat up, rubbed his eyes with his monkey fists. VisiG.o.dred caught him beneath the arms and sat him on the floor.

"Go over by Tooth, Billy. I've got work to do."

The leopards returned to the fire and stretched out, but didn't relax. They remained tense, as if about to spring. Billy sat between them, a hand on a shoulder of each. He remained unnaturally quiet.

A servant came in, asked VisiG.o.dred if he needed refreshments.

The wizard said, "Will, call everybody in. We're about to begin."

The servant's eyes widened. He set his pitcher on the nearest table, hurried out.

"Ah, yes, this's the place," the wizard murmured, after returning to the crystal. "Note the cover."

Ragnarson had. The a.s.sa.s.sin had chosen an am-bushcade where the road hung in the side of a steep mountain and was so narrow that a traveler could do litte to evade an attacker. The a.s.sa.s.sin, on the other hand, from the canyon's opposite wall, could operate from rocky cover perfect for his purpose. He had concealment, protective shelter, and a view of a mile of road.

After a time, VisiG.o.dred grunted, "Ah!" He had noticed the servants at the door. Waving a thin, blue-veined hand in the direction of another table, he said, "Over there. Each one watch a ball. Tell me if anything happens."

The servants shuffled to seats before b.a.l.l.s similar to those before VisiG.o.dred. The wizard asked, "Where's Mocker?"

A man described Mocker's surroundings.

VisiG.o.dred nodded. "Less than an hour now. Well, what's happening in the Wind Tower?"

"Nothing I can hear. Lord. They're quiet, waiting.""I don't like not being able to see into that place," VisiG.o.dred complained. "They could be doing anything, and I can only listen. Is Zindahjira ready?"

"Yes," a woman replied, fearfully. Zindahjira was no pleasant sight, even shrouded in darkness. Which he always was. He sought shadows as green plants seek the light. "He wants to talk to you."

"Bring the ball."

Ragnarson and Elana moved back, but watched as VisiG.o.dred murmured to the crystal. It murmured back, softly, like the susurration ol a gentle sea, or of a bree/e in pines. VisiG.o.dred mumbled some more, then nodded. Turning, he told Ragnarson, "We can do it without getting caught. He had the same idea I did. Just a matter of waiting, and of casting a few spells. One to protect your friend from ordinary weapons. I'll tend to that now."

The couple withdrew to the table displaying the larger battery of crystals. Over a man's shoulder, Ragnarson watched Mocker labor up a steep trail toward his brush with the Dark Lady.

"Oh! Look!" Elana whispered excitedly. "Nepanthe!"

Bragi moved to her side, looked over another shoulder. Yes, there she was, Mocker's wife, seated in her room in Fangdred, perhaps praying. When he asked, the servant observing said she'd just been told about Varthlokkur's intentions. From all appearances, she was steeling herself against the inevitable. Tiny in the crystal, she began pacing her chamber nervously. Her face was both frightened and hopeful.

After what seemed several hours, but was really just one, the wizard called, "Bring me Mocker's crystal, please." Bragi did so. VisiG.o.dred studied it, nodded, and whispered the final cantrip of a spell he had been casting. After another eternity of waiting, he said, "We're about to start."

Ragnarson's beard and head cast a strange shadow as he studied the crystals before the wizard.

Elsewhere, the low talk of the servants died to a silence broken only by heavy breathing, leopards' claws on naked stone as the cats paced before the hearth, and VisiG.o.dred softly murmuring another spell.

Tension grew as he finished the incantation. "What're Varthlokkur and the Old Man doing?" he asked of the other table.

"Nothing I can hear, Lord."

VisiG.o.dred nodded. Another minute pa.s.sed. Elana called, "Nepanthe's left her room. Looks like she's headed for the tower."