The white ring of fire rose quickly past the prisoner' s knees, waist, chest, neck. It stopped short of his chin. Like a man drowning, he fought to keep his face above the blazing circle threatening to destroy him. Tears of pain ran down the man' s face and sizzled hotly on the magical ring.
" The mind burn," Patriccan announced in a low voice. Both hands and words combined now, a wringing motion coordinated with the cadence of his chant. The victim stiffened, all trace of pain gone.
" This strips away layer after layer of memory until nothing is left. I liken it to sunburned skin peeling away."
" Don' t lecture, Patriccan. Just do it."
K' Adesina waited while the prisoner began to babble. Skillfully, the ancient mage only allowed those words to escape that pertained to Kiska k' Adesina' s question. The story of how Noratumi had arranged for the log to smash the dam and flood the grey- clads' camp poured out, just as the trapped waters had. Then nothing more left the prisoner' s mouth.
" His brain is gone, milady. Burned away like mist in the morning sun."
" How poetic. Do with him what you will."
For the first time, Patriccan smiled. Silvain wondered exactly what use the mindless prisoner would be put to. He' d have to ask around and find out. Such knowledge might prove a potent lever to use against Patriccan at some future time.
The ring lowered and darkened in color until only the original yellow disk remained on the floor. Patriccan gestured quickly and the disk, prisoner still encased in the magical barrier, slipped across the floor and out the door like an obedient dog. The mage bowed slightly and took his leave.
" Was it worthwhile, Kiska?"
" It relieved the tensions. I wish you had allowed the torture to continue. This mind burn is too efficient. He babbled all I wanted to know without testing his mettle."
" Testing? Ha. You desired to see only pain. Is your hatred so great that you torture mere soldiers?"
" Yes," she hissed, rocking forward in her chair. " I will do whatever I can to get back at Martak and that filthy creature accompanying him. Anything!"
" Hatred channeled properly is a potent weapon," the man observed. " Can you focus it on: other targets?"
An appraising look came into k' Adesina' s brown eyes. They softened perceptibly.
" We should study the ways of accomplishing our master' s goal."
" Together."
" Definitely. My sleeping quarters are nearby."
" Outside, down the slope and to the left," said Silvain, smiling. This turned into a drama he enjoyed playing to the finish. The woman' s energy and hard core of irrational hatred intrigued him. He was driven by personal ambition; what spurred others to equal heights of genius always caught his interest.
To Alberto Silvain' s delight, Kiska k' Adesina was able to channel her hatred into other areas. He did not care that there was no love in the coupling. The physical act built, reached a plateau, built more, and then burst in an ecstatic rush that carried them both into still another bout of lovemaking. They finished less than ten minutes before their scheduled midnight meeting with Claybore. Somehow, the nearness of the deadline, the flaunting with the sorcerer' s possible wrath, added even more pleasure to the act for both of them.
CHAPTER SIX
" Death awaits all who travel this road," said Jacy Noratumi.
Inyx numbly stared at the area where the overeager soldier had been just seconds before. He had ridden forward, reached that indefinable knife' s edge of distortion and: vanished.
" What magics can do such a thing?" she muttered. Her mind raced, trying to figure out the spells. On her home world a good clean swordthrust sufficed. Magic was something left to amuse children; no true warrior used it to kill an adversary- that amounted to cowardice. But since she had walked the Road, the dark- maned woman had seen too many instances like this one.
" Who cares?" Noratumi said bitterly. " I desire nothing more than to enter my fair city once again. A plague on the sorcerer casting this spell! Do you hear, Iron Tongue, a plague on you. May your teeth fall out, may your nose be covered with warts, may your cock turn leprous and send women running from you in horror!"
" Shouting won' t get us inside," said Inyx. " And I doubt it' s Iron Tongue who is responsible."
" Why do you say that?" he said in a sarcastic tone.
" The grey- clad troops weren' t Iron Tongue' s. Why do you think this barrier is?"
" Why have both troops and magics at work? That is wasteful."
Inyx didn' t reply. The people of this world fought different battles than those she was used to. Jacy appeared unconvinced that Claybore would bring forth two types of attack; either that, or his hatred of Iron Tongue was so great that it blinded him to other explanations.
" Who cast it is of little matter," she explained patiently. " Getting past it is more important."
" At last, a logical word from those petallike lips." He lifted himself in his stirrups and bowed, a mixture of sweat and blood dripping from his forehead.
Inyx tried to remember all that Lan had told her of casting spells. He was the expert in this field; she had listened, but had understood only a fraction of what he' d said. It took special talents to be a mage of Lan' s caliber, and if the truth be known, the woman was glad she lacked the ability. This war with Claybore changed Lan Martak in ways she liked- and in ways she didn' t. He had lost innocence and become more suspicious of all around him.
Confronted with barriers like the one blocking entry into Bron, a touch of paranoia saved lives, however. She had held back long enough to allow the other man to ride ahead to his death, she recalled.
" I cannot remove the barrier or even alter it," she finally said, unwilling to try even the most rudimentary of the spells Lan had taught her. Such an attempt might draw unwanted attention of the sorcerer who had thrown up this magical impediment.
" None of my kingdom dabbles in the black sciences."
" I wish Lan were here."
" Would he fly us up and over this death curtain?"
The bitterness in his voice told more of jealousy than anything else.
" Lan is an accomplished mage. He has stood Claybore' s attacks repeatedly."
" Why doesn' t he destroy Claybore?"
" Even dismembered as he is, Claybore is a powerful mage. Lan' s power grows rapidly, but he can only protect so far. The day comes when he will know enough to launch an attack against Claybore."
" None of this does us any good," complained Noratumi. " Locked out of my own city! This is an outrage!"
The man leaped from his horse and paced back and forth. Inyx watched, but her mind was elsewhere. She knew it wasn' t within their power to destroy the deadly curtain veiling them from Bron. Even as she stared at the tiny dust motes leaping about on the road, she saw a firming of the magics. The wavering stopped and was replaced with a vision not unlike peering through fine crystal. The magical barrier was transparent, but Inyx still knew she looked through something.
" Damn you, Iron Tongue!" shouted Noratumi. The man picked up a rock and heaved it at the barrier. A tiny puff of smoke came as the rock exploded into a million shards. Another and still another rock followed the first until Noratumi' s madness passed. The sallow- faced man panted with the exertion and came back to stand beside Inyx' s horse.
His hand rested on her calf. The woman found the gesture strangely disconcerting.
" To have come so far and to be blocked like this. I can' t bear it. I cannot!"