Flustered, Veza could only stammer, "Then what do you plan to do?"

"Have a little bit of fun, my dear. Have a little bit of fun."

A week after drafting his note to the tribes, Kamahl found himself in the toughest trial of his life. He had to face the best and strongest warriors in the Pardic Mountains and convince them to give up their freedom-their very way of life-all for a chance to rule it all.

Over a hundred warriors showed up for the meeting, the champion of each village in the mountains. In reality, Kamahl knew he only had to convince a half-dozen or so champions. Even though there had never been a massive tournament such as this, the pecking order in the mountains was well established by the challenge system. The Elite Eight warriors were well known and respected by the rest of the tribes. If Kamahl could convince them, the entire barbarian nation would follow.

"I don't see all of the Elite," said Kamahl to Balthor as he scanned the crowd. Both warriors were standing on the watchtower at the Judgment training grounds where the meeting was to take place. "Where are they?"

Balthor stared at Kamahl with his eyebrows furrowed. "Oh, that's right. I keep forgetting ye've been gone so long," he said, suddenly. "Ye didn't think the challenge battles would stop while ye was off the mountain, did ye?"

"Well, no."

"There's been quite a few changes since ye left," said Balthor. "Many of your challengers retired or got beat. Of the seven below you when you left, only three remain. The newest members of the Eight are Joha, whom ye knew from your days in the challenges, two upstarts named Thurmon and Brue-I don't think ye ever met them-and Tybiel."

"Tybiel?" asked Kamahl, sneering at the name. "How did that fool find a spot at the top after what he did?

"The challenge battles remain separate from tribal wars," said Balthor. "Ye know that."

"Fine," huffed Kamahl, "I can always demote him once I'm leader. But that's only four. Who's the fifth member?"

"Why, your old mate Talon," said Balthor. "I thought ye knew he was now the leader of the Eight.

After you left, he moved up the ranks like a storm coming up the mountains. He's the one ye have to convince. Get Talon to go for your plan, and the rest of the Eight will follow."

"Talon?" asked Kamahl. "He was a scrappy fighter but never had that much power."

"True, true," said Balthor. "I almost didn't take him on as a student at first, he was so puny. If he hadn't been your best friend . . . But now look at him, a fine warrior mage, the leader of his tribe and the key to your plan. Let's hope he doesn't carry a grudge over your last battle."

"What last battle?" asked Kamahl.

"Why, who do you think it was that ye met in the Judgment last week?" replied Balthor. "You nearly burned him to a crisp when you turned his own chain lightning spell back on him like ye did. Not to mention destroying that section of me course-"

"That was Talon?" asked Kamahl, incredulous at the power his friend had gained while he'd been busy chasing down the Mirari. "No wonder he's the leader of the Elite Eight."

Almost on cue, Talon yelled up at the duo on the tower. "Well met, Kamahl! You have assembled a mighty throng of warriors here today. Do you plan to turn us into your own little army? Or do you truly just wish to see who is the mightiest?

Because I think a battle between the two of us can settle that right now."

"It may come to that, old friend," replied Kamahl, pushed into his speech faster than he would have liked. "But if any of us is to lead this mighty army, we all know that leader's prowess must be proven absolutely. That is why I proposed the tournament."

"Why should anyone lead us all?" asked Talon, and there were murmurs of assent from all around him.

"We have survived this long without banding together under one general. What has changed that we need to alter our very way of life? What new challenge awaits us that we cannot face alone?"

Holding up his sword so all in the throng could see the Mirari throbbing with power at its hilt, Kamahl yelled, "This is the challenge that will forever change our mountain! This is why we must come together as a people or perish one by one in our villages. This is the Mirari, the most powerful artifact in all Otaria, and I have brought it here for the glory of the Pardic people and to protect it from those who would yield its power against all that we hold dear. But the only way to hold this power in the Pardic Mountains where it rightfully belongs is to band together to face the challenges of all who would steal it to use against us."The entire throng of warriors was enraptured by the glow of the Mirari. All were caught up in its power-all except Talon, who stared hard at Kamahl, holding his gaze for a moment.

Then Talon began to clap his hands, very slowly, and said, "A wonderful speech, old friend. And this Mirari is truly a wonder. I assume, then, that the champion of this tournament will yield its power against our enemies?"

"No," admitted Kamahl. "The Mirari belongs to me. I fought for it. I chased across Otaria and back. I gave my oath to my dearest friend that I would keep it safe. But I will lend my arm and my sword to the barbarian army and follow the orders of whoever among us becomes our leader."

"Noble words, Kamahl," said, Talon, still stoic and obviously unconvinced. "Tell me, will you yield your sword during the tournament? Will you use this most powerful artifact in your bid to lead this proud group of warriors.

As Talon spoke, the barbarians surrounding him began to look at the Mirari differently. Before they were in awe of its power. Now Kamahl could see the hint of fear in their eyes. Fear and, perhaps, envy.

"This is my sword, Talon. Given to me by my father. Given to him by his father. Forged by Balthor from the staff of the mighty Urza after he returned from the great war. You cannot deny me my sword.

And I have brought the Mirari to our people. It is I who have brought this great power to the Pardic Mountains."

"And it is you who have brought the challenge of protecting it from outsiders. Now you wish to use your people as you would use your sword to protect yourself from these challenges."

Kamahl didn't immediately have an answer for Talon's accusations, and the crowd around Talon began to get unruly as the large barbarian remained silent. Swords were being drawn, magical words were being muttered under the breaths of many. The air in the Judgment course was charged with mana and anger. Kamahl, angry at Talon for backing him into a comer, saw no way out other than to offer the Mirari as the prize. But he couldn't allow Talon to take his sword away from him during the tournament.

"Do something lad," said Balthor as Kamahl tried to think. "Ye cannot fight them all at once."

"You're right!" exclaimed Kamahl as an idea struck him. "Warriors!" he called, trying to get their attention back on him before the first spell flew. "Talon is right!"

That got their attention.

"In trying to keep a death oath to a friend, I lost sight of the proud history of our people," continued Kamahl, and the murmurs stilled as he paid tribute to them all. "Honor, strength, and loyalty are what we all live and die for on the mountain. I must honor my oath, but I cannot turn my back on the loyalty I owe to my people. I will offer the Mirari and my father's father's sword to the champion of this tournament."

Kamahl paused to see what effect this had on the crowd and on Talon specifically. The crowd was again silent and staring at the Mirari. Talon's head was cocked slightly to the side, as if considering Kamahl's words but not yet convinced.

"However," continued Kamahl, "I also cannot forego the strength I have rightfully gained through combat. If my sword and the Mirari make me powerful that is because I have earned that power, and any who wish to yield this power in my place must win it from me on the strength of their own power.

Therefore I will fight any and every last man on this mountain. He who can best me in a challenge battle will earn the right to yield this power. If none can best me, then you must all yield your power under my banner."

Looking straight at Talon, Kamahl slammed his sword tip into the floor of the tower, shattering the air with a thunderclap that echoed against the mountains for minutes. In the stillness following, he delivered his final challenge.

"Do you accept the terms for the tournament, Talon, or should we fight for the Mirari here and now."

CHAPTER 7.

Treal acted more as a tour guide than a bodyguard as he led Laquatas and Burke through the Citadel.

But with Burke at his side, Laquatas knew he had nothing to fear, even in this police state.

"As you can see, Ambassador, Order forces patrol every street of the Citadel," said the guard, pointing to an orderly column of troops marching through the newly rebuilt city square. "And we have guards posted night and day anywhere that people might congregate within the city to insure that violence does not erupt.

This is the safest city in all Otaria."

"And the most oppressive," muttered Laquatas under his breath. Still, thought the mer, I could use this stratagem to maintain order within my own empire, at least until I root out all of the dissidents.

Turning to the guard-turned-guide, Laquatas smiled and said, "Very impressive, Treal. I would love todiscuss the particulars of Citadel security with Commander Eesha. It has been a week now. When may I expect to have an audience with her?"

"Ah, yes," replied Treal. "I must have forgotten to tell you, your audience has been set for this afternoon. I'm terribly sorry, sir. I have been awfully forgetful lately."

"Not a problem, Treal," said the ambassador. His mental control on Treal was beginning to have adverse effects on the man. Always happens, thought Laquatas. His brain will be nothing more than a five-pound lump of goo in a few days. I had better make arrangements to acquire a new guide.

The trio toured the square, going from statue to statue as Treal told Laquatas about the Citadel's past glories, describing in minute and excruciatingly boring detail the histories of every past commander who had been memorialized in stone. Laquatas was more interested in watching the troops march up and down the square, accosting any group of farmers, students, or businessmen who accidentally clumped together in a group of four or more.

"And here we have Captain Pianna," said Treal, "who was, of course, the first victim of Kamahl the Butcher. Perhaps the greatest commander of the Citadel, her teachings of peace and compassion with other races were her eventual undoing."

Laquatas looked at the statue with sudden interest. Pianna was not captured in a formal or heroic pose, as were the other commanders. Instead, it appeared she was in agony-her hands thrown up in front of her, her legs buckled at the knees as if she couldn't stand the pain any longer. The image sparked a memory in the depths of the mer's mind. He had seen Pianna's crystallized body through Turg's eyes shortly after Kirtar set off the Mirari, destroying half of the Citadel and killing many Order forces. Turg had barely made it out alive with the Mirari. The crystallizing effect had nearly swallowed him as well.

"This isn't the actual . . ." started the ambassador, his eyes wide with shock. Even he thought it would be barbaric to put the poor captain on display.

"No, of course not!" said Treal. "Pianna, Kirtar, and all of the rder forces lost to the barbarism of that mountain man are entombed beneath the rebuilt portions of the Citadel. This sculpture is an exact replica of Pianna after her death, created as a warning to future generations that the price of freedom is eternal vigilance against our enemies."

"Then I am glad to be counted among the friends of the Order," said Laquatas as they moved on from the eerie statue. A second flash of memory sparked another question from Laquatas. "Didn't Pianna have her sword out that day?"

"You sound as if you were there, Ambassador."

"I ... remember hearing about a magnificent sword Pianna wielded in battle," stammered Laquatas, momentarily losing control of himself and his mental hold on Treal. "I assumed she had it out to face the barbarian when he unleashed this horrible spell on her and the Citadel. Only there was no sword in the hands of the statue."

"The Sword of Leadership it is called," explained Treal, firmly under the mer's control again. "It had been handed down from commander to commander since the time of the great war. It is the symbol of power in the Order once wielded by . . ." Treal faltered. "Blast, I can't remember his name. Great Order hero of the war. Damn. What is that name?"

"What happened to the sword after Pianna's death?" asked Laquatas to steer Treal away from worries about his increasing memory loss.

"It was carefully removed from the captain's hands after the massacre and given to Major Teroh as the new leader of the Order. After his death, the sword was brought back to the Citadel, and now Commander Eesha wields it. Funny thing. The sword is now made of glass, right? It's a crystal sword, but they say it is harder and sharper than ever."

"Interesting," said Laquatas who actually was interested in seeing what the Mirari had done to this sword. Perhaps 1 can get a closer look at it once I get Commander Eesha under my influence, thought the ambassador as he switched off the continuing history lesson he was getting from his guide with a minor mental command.

Later that day, Laquatas, Burke, and Treal stood in front of Commander Eesha who was flanked by a high-ranking warrior and a priest. Laquatas could see that the aven warrior did indeed have the sword of leadership. He could see the crystal hilt protruding from the large bird's sheath.

Prying his eyes and mind off of the sword for the moment, Laquatas focused on his mission.

"Commander, I bring grave news about your enemies," stated the mer. "News of great urgency and secrecy. May we speak in private?"

"That is not possible ambassador," replied Eesha. "Even though you are a friend of the Order and a hero in the eyes of many, no Order business with outsiders may be conducted in private. It is a harsh lessonwe have learned from experience. Lieutenant Dinell and Brother Themis are my two closest advisors. I trust them both with my life."

"Of course, Commander," said Laquatas as he pondered his next move. Smart bird, he thought. She's flanked by muscle and a mage.

"But perhaps the sergeant should leave if this information is as sensitive as you say," continued Eesha.

"Sergeant, you are excused."

Caught in his reverie Laquatas didn't hear the commander's order.

"Sergeant, leave us this instant!" roared the aven, her wings unfolding, making her look even larger than she was.

Laquatas provided a mental nudge, and the sergeant said, "Yes, ma'am," turned on his heels, and left the room.

"Now, what is this grave news, Ambassador?" asked Eesha. "As I am sure you know by now, Commander," began Laquatas, "the Mirari is in the hands of your most-hated enemy, the Citadel butcher, Kamahl."

"Yes. He stole the accursed orb from my own men, killing several of them in the process. He disappeared shortly afterward, leaving destruction in his wake once again. Our soldiers still have not quelled the rioting that broke out after he destroyed Cabal City."

"Well, ma'am," continued Laquatas, "what you may not know is that the barbarian has returned to the Pardic Mountains and even now is amassing an army that my sources say he plans to lead into battle against the Order."

"My scouts have reported the movement of many barbarian warriors in the past week, much more than normal for such a chaotic people."

"Really?" asked Laquatas, glad to know there was some truth to his lie. It would make the rest of the deception that much more plausible. Noticing the stern gaze the aven commander was now giving him, Laquatas added, "I did not know your scouts traveled so far west."

"We have been scouting the mountains ever since that butcher left Cabal City," replied Eesha. "Once we find him, he will be brought to the Citadel to pay for what he did to Kirtar and for the rest of the Order forces he's killed. And we will finally destroy that foul artifact."

"If the Cabal doesn't get to him first, of course," said Laquatas, smiling to himself, feeling he'd finally found a chink in the commander's armor. "I also have news that Cabal forces have been dispatched to deal with the barbarian and bring the Mirari back to Aphetto, where it will once again be offered as a prize in the pits."

"What?" roared Eesha. "Have they not learned their lesson yet? If those Cabal dogs get their hands on the orb again, there will be a war on Otaria the likes of which hasn't been seen since the end of the last age!"

"It may not need to come to that, Commander. I can help you capture the butcher and bring the orb back here for its rightful destruction."

"Why would you do this?" asked Eesha, a note of distrust creeping into her voice. "What do you want from us in return."

"I am a man of peace, Commander," said Laquatas, bowing low in front of the suspicious aven. "I wish for nothing more than peace between merfolk and Order. Think of the cost of a war against the Cabal-the lives of your men, the damage to the land, the destruction of your beautiful cities. Believe me, I understand the horrible price of war. Llawan was vicious in her slaughter of my people. All I would ask in return is your help against this brutal cephalid that rules beneath the sea."

"You would have me forsake my war merely to help you in yours?"

"No, of course not. All I ask is for the Order to back my bid, politically." That and retrieve the Mirari for me, thought the ambassador. "I believe Llawan is courting the Cabal's backing in our conflict-may have even offered the First her aid against you in return," lied Laquatas. "But the First will not provide troops to the empress if he knows I have the backing of the Order. He would be risking the same war that I wish to help you avoid."

"I'm not sure I follow your logic, Ambassador," said the commander, stretching her wings again and walking to the back of the room. As she did, the priest and the lieutenant turned slightly to watch her. When the commander turned, Laquatas thought he saw an exchange of hand signals between the three.

Returning to the table, Eesha continued, "But if the Cabal wishes Llawan on the throne, that is reason enough for us to back you. You are after all, the hero of the Order. We owe you no small debt of gratitude for all you did to help save the Citadel on that horrible day when Kamahl the Butcher killed Kirtar and Pianna and tried to destroy us all. We will do what we can to aid you, provided you can help us retrieve theorb and capture that butcher."

Laquatas accepted the praise graciously, smiling to himself. For only he and Kamahl knew the truth about that day-that it was Kirtar who killed both himself and Pianna ... and nearly destroyed the Citadel with the power of the Mirari. Laquatas and Kamahl were there only to claim the Mirari, but through a nasty turn of fate, neither of them walked away with the prize. Laquatas became the hero of the Order just like he did everything else, through his own lies.

Braids and her assassins had been on the road for over a week, and the snakes were restless. Braids could tell they longed for action, though they remained silent and focused on the task. Now they were three days' travel outside Cabal City, and while the summoner had enjoyed her return home, the boys had little to do in the dead city. Few people still lived in the city, and those who remained were quickly turning feral.

The mass exodus of the city caused by Chainer's torment made it impossible for the snake men to pick up Kamahl's trail inside Cabal City or on any of the roads leading out from the city. However, Braids had other ways to elicit information. The streets of Cabal City were littered with dead bodies, and it was a simple thing for Braids to call those spirits back to reanimate the bodies. They weren't truly alive, but they were no longer dead either. By interrogating these zombies about the final days, she was able to track Kamahl to the northern gate and out into the desolate plains, leaving behind a city that was still dead but now no longer quiet or still.

Outside the city, Kamahl had joined up with three other barbarians, but the rattlesnake assassins assured Braids that Kamahl left alone two days later. The squad also found a new scent that crossed and intermingled with the barbarian's trail, the scent of an Order patrol that must have spotted Kamahl and given chase. Kamahl had veered from his original northerly course and turned northeast followed by the Order patrol. The other three barbarians had continued north.

"Follow Kamahl," said Braids to her squad, "and if we find the patrol-or their bodies-we'll question them." Digging her feet into her beastly mount, Braids followed the strong and fast snake men, the wind forcing her braided hair and the dark dementia cloud that always surrounded her head to fly behind her.

Exhilarated by the hunt, the dementia summoner began to whistle.

That night the assassins caught the smell of a campfire in the cool evening breeze. Off in the distance, about a half-day's trip to the north, Braids could just see the wisps of smoke drifting lazily up in the darkening purple twilight.

"Are you sure it's the same patrol?" she asked the leader of the squad, a snake she called Leer due to the odd slope of his brow that made it look like he was always staring down at her.