"The quest must not end here," Seton urged. "Reclaiming the orb or foiling the ambassador's plans, your journey must continue." The druid stood and picked up Kamahl's gear.
"This was not my first stop after the Order's healers released me," the woodland fighter said. "I was able to secure you another steed. Come and I will introduce you to him." The centaur picked up Kamahl's gear with a single hand and headed into the forest, not bothering to wait for a response.
The druid walked through the trees, his huge strides tentative but still forcing the barbarian to step rapidly to keep up with him. They arrived at the foot of a tall cliff after a long walk, one that obviously taxed the giant's strength. The vertical rock face climbed hundreds of feet, the limbs of trees seeming to peek out over the top of the ridge.
"Unless this steed can fly or is invisible, I do not see it." Kamahl quipped as he reached the centaur's side. The druid chuckled painfully as he dropped the barbarian's gear and looked blearily to the sky.
"Emerald!" he called. "Your rider is here!" A head popped out over the top of the cliff, eyes swiveling separately to peer down on the two below. A lizard stepped onto the side of the sheer wall, standing vertically a moment before it started down.
"Emerald volunteered last night to provide you with transportation. He fed this morning and should be ready for days of hard riding."
The barbarian moved back, nervous to be under a creature of such size descending with no visible means of support.
"Do not worry," said Seton. "Emerald's kind can walk on a ceiling as long as the surface can hold the weight."
The lizard was at the bottom of the cliff and stepped to the ground. Its body stood as high as a horse, though it was much longer. Emerald's long tail beat against the rock.
"Exactly how am I going to ride it?" Kamahl said as he approached the beast. The centaur said nothing, swinging the saddle onto the animal's back. A long tongue darted out of the gecko's mouth and worked along the underside of the saddle. When the druid settled it all the way down, it squelched and then locked solid.
"That will hold you and your gear even if you are upside down," Seton said with satisfaction. "Though you might want to grip with something besides your knees. Now climb aboard, and tell me how it feels."
Kamahl approached cautiously and, using the saddle horn, pulled himself up. The lizard was huge, but the barrel of its body was close to the same width as a horse's.
"How do I care for it?" Kamahl said uncertainly.
Seton laughed. "Emerald is as smart as you are, even if he can't talk," the centaur explained. "When you want to get the saddle off, just tell him and lift. That tongue will smear something on its back that will break the saddle's grip. When you want to start out again, just do as I did." The druid lifted the rest of Kamahl's gear to him and helped secure it. "Emerald knows the way to the Order and how to avoid trouble. Just trust him to know where he is going."
The forest warrior stepped back and settled down to rest. Before Kamahl could say anything the gecko started with a jerk.
"Good luck in your quest, Kamahl," Seton called.
The barbarian could only wave, hoping the druid saw him as he concentrated on adapting to the lizard's gait.
CHAPTER 15
"The air is no place for a merman," Laquatus muttered as he held tightly to the soldier's waist. The ground was distant, and he was reminded of long swims in tropical seas. The clear water revealed the ocean floor far below. However, the air would not support the ambassador as he drifted down. He felt his jack's fears and knew only his unbending will and orders kept the frog from panic. He wondered how bruised the amphibian's companion would be when they landed again. He had convinced the captain his contacts with the Cabal and other continental powers would help her in discovering the source of the disturbances. Laquatus hoped to get her alone and work his mind-altering magic, but she gave him no chance. The strain of controlling Turg and his own fear sapped his energy throughout the griffin ride. Now the final destination was in sight, and he could hardly wait for the feel of dry land beneath his feet.
Laquatus regretted his diminished power. He had been forced to abandon the mercenaries. Pianna was barely willing to allow the ambassador and his champion to accompany her. The merman hoped the underwater explorers had finally reached the Citadel. The promise of sea warriors and competent minions made the loss of the mercenaries bearable.
The Citadel was a massive conglomeration of stone. The castle itself was on top of a rocky hill, the only visible road to the gates exposed to attack from above for its entire length. Double walls of stone reinforced with dozens of towers enclosed the top of the mesa. The central keep was less martial, the fineness of the stone work contrasting with the crudely worked blocks of the outer walls. But however brilliant the white rock appeared, Laquatus still noticed bars on the windows.
There was a town at the base of the hill, tucked between the living rock and a stream flowing down from the north. The slate roofs of the tall houses nearly hid the cobblestone streets. The avenues looked crowded, and the ambassador could see wagons and tents in the town squares. The griffins had often soared over long caravans of refugees headed for the Citadel. The merman wondered where the additional people could be placed. The courtyard that the griffins aimed for seemed clear of any but Order officials, and Laquatus tried to guess how much longer that would be the case.
The landing was a blur as the ambassador closed his eyes. The skybox had felt rock solid in comparison to a living steed, and he wondered if his sudden fear of heights would be temporary. The griffin landed with a lurch as it stumbled to a halt. Laquatus turned and watched Turg's ride land. The moment the flier's claws touched the ground the frog was off, running his hands over the solidity of the cobbles. It took the merman several moments to dismount, his legs locked with cramps. Finally, he commanded his champion to aid him to the ground. The Order soldiers showed disgusting ease as they hurried to unload their steeds of cargo, saddles, and harnesses.
The stablemen moved slowly, as if listening for news. They looked at the pit frog and the ambassador with wide eyes, and Laquatus wondered what wild rumors would be circulating by the day's end. The officers and their guests stepped to the main keep, the several-story building looming over the merman like a cliff.
They moved into the darker room, Laquatus's eyes adapting easily to the dim light coming through the narrow windows. Food was laid out on trestles. It was an example of the journey's hardship that Turg did not immediately fall upon the buffet but squatted down at the ambassador's side. The hugeness of the hall seemed to siphon the noise of its few inhabitants away. The ambassador carefully enhanced his senses and ached at the sudden cacophony. He carefully reined in his energy, hoping that the casting of his spell was undetected. The journey had taken quite a toll on him as well.
The officers were off at an isolated table, small portions of food set before them, though neither ate. The merman's enhanced vision could see the irritation on both of their faces. The rest of the griffin scouts gave them a wide berth, and the server left a flagon of wine at the table rather than standing ready to pour. The ambassador was assaulted by thunder, and Turg stood with a threatening gesture. A serving man stumbled back with a tray of bread and wine.
"Give it here, and then leave me alone!" Laquatus grated out. The impertinence of the man to disturb him while he was concentrating. Only the importance of eavesdropping prevented him from calling for the servant's supervisor. He made a note of the man's face for punishment at a later date. His attention shifted back to the officers in mid-argument.