“I mean what I say,” Morgada insisted, not letting her face show any displeasure. “Safrag is enthralled by the Fire Rose.” She looked at Golgren again. “Other than your life, he cares for nothing greater than to use it to remake … everything! He even intends to remold the Titans to his own grand dream.” The temptress shuddered. “But Safrag constantly changes his mind as to what that grand dream should be, and so I fear that with each fancy of his we will be transformed over and over.”
The wizard chuckled darkly. “Now that, on the other hand, is a fear that I can believe you have got! Granted, it takes a powerful mind to keep Sirrion’s gift under control.”
“A mind more powerful than yours, spellcaster,” she replied with a bit of a smirk. “A mind such as the Grand Khan Golgren’s.”
“So instead of Xiryn’s pawn, he’ll be your adoring pet! What say you to that, Golgren?”
“That is not what I offer-”
Golgren cut them both off. “And what do you wish from this bargain, Titaness?”
“Without the elixir, Xiryn, or Safrag, there is nothing to keep me from reverting as my power fails. With the Fire Rose, you can make it so that I’ll always be alive, like this.” Morgada gave him another beguiling smile. “Or you can shape me in some manner that pleases you more … even an elf.”
“You should turn her into a viper, a much more natural shape for her.”
Morgada gave no retort but showed a brief flash of anger.
It was anger that Golgren could exploit. “Keep your word,” the half-ogre said to her, “and I will keep mine.”
“Splendid!” She was on her feet and almost pressing against him without actually having risen. One moment Morgada was kneeling; the next she was standing.
To the side and out of her view, Tyranos shook his head at Golgren. The half-breed did not acknowledge him; he was more interested in something else. “Where is Safrag?” he asked Morgada. “Can you take me to him now?”
Some of her confidence faded. “To take you to him now would be a mistake. We would all end up like Kulgrath.” Morgada paused but did not explain what she meant by that. “He is studying the Fire Rose as we speak. However, even he eventually tires enough that he must sleep. We will wait until then. That was Xiryn’s plan, and I believe it to be a good one, Grand Khan.”
“There is merit.”
Tyranos was not as easily satisfied. “And so what do we do in the meantime? Wait for him to alter this place again?” He grimaced as he studied one of the reliefs. “You sure these wall really don’t have ears, sorceress?”
“Xiryn showed me how to shield myself from Safrag without him knowing about it. You may trust that we are safe-” But as she spoke, Morgada’s eyes suddenly shifted to the ceiling as if hearing something. “Safrag desires my presence! You two must stay here! It’s the only truly secure place in the palace!”
Before either could respond, the female Titan vanished.
The wizard did not take her departure well. “I don’t plan to wait here and hope that she doesn’t bring Safrag back!”
He called upon the staff, but the crystal only dimmed. “This should work!” Tyranos shook the magical item.
“It should!”
Golgren remained quiet, for he had noticed the signet grow warmer. Some force desired them to stay there for the time being, which also suited the half-breed. Morgada could be of more use to Golgren than he had originally intended.
But he was nagged by one concern. There was one other who knew for a fact that the deposed Grand Khan had infiltrated the palace.
“Tyranos, can you summon someone to us?”
“Not Safrag, I assume. You can’t be that insane.”
“Wargroch.”
The spellcaster studied the staff. “No. Not so long as it’s behaving like this.”
The signet remained warm, which told Golgren that there was nothing else they could do, at least not for the moment. The half-breed surveyed the chamber. “No door in this place.”
“Yes, I noticed.” Tyranos briefly touched something under his chest, a habit Golgren recognized because he often did the same thing himself. Instinctively, the half-ogre let his hand graze where his mummified appendage hung over his heart.
“So we rest,” Golgren declared. Without waiting for any reaction from Tyranos, he slid into a sitting position against one of the many huge faces of Safrag.
The hooded figure glared then joined him. As he settled into some semblance of comfort, Tyranos muttered, “You are going to be the death of me, oh Grand Khan.”
Golgren shut his eyes, not trying to sleep, but rather starting to plan and to think anew about a silver-tressed elf slave. “Yes. Likely to be the death of us all, wizard.”
Sir Augustus had not said so to Golgren, but his men had actually been ready to march the moment that the half-breed had reached a desired distance away from the encampment. Stefan might have provided the deciding factor in Solamnia’s push into the ogre realm, but the senior knight had already been planning for an advance long before. Solamnia saw the instability of the ogres and the seizing of the capital by the Titans as inevitable threats that they could not afford to wait to settle.
Therefore, much of the force under his command was already well into the enemy lands. It was time the world was put in order, and the Knighthood was the only force capable of doing that.
And with the Fire Rose … well, perhaps the task would prove even simpler than his superiors had initially imagined. That was in part what the coded message at the bottom of the missive regarding Golgren had concerned. Solamnic codes could relay great amounts of information in seemingly random scratches and not merely the scratches; Sir Rennert had no doubt that Golgren had noticed them when reading the missive anyway. There were other markings set in strategic places and even among the words themselves. Altogether, they painted a detailed picture of just what Sir Augustus’s superiors expected to come out of their pact.
The senior knight felt some guilt toward his nephew. Stefan had presented him with a clean, straightforward proposition that should have been to the equal advantage of both sides. However, Stefan was too young to understand the intricacies of matters of state. When it was all said and done, no one would be able to claim that Solamnia had not lived up to its obligations … if there were anyone left alive to make any claim. Certainly, Sir Augustus doubted Golgren’s chances of survival.
For just the briefest of moments, Sir Augustus’s sharp eyes fixed on what appeared to be a figure poised on a high ridge ahead. The knight blinked and when he focused again, he saw nothing.
But Stefan’s uncle knew very well what they might face ahead, so he surreptitiously sent a signal to one of his officers. The knight in question slowed his mount, falling back to inform others who needed to spread the word.
As that happened, there came a low rumble that sounded like thunder; but it could not be, for there was no cloud in the sky.
“So it begins already,” Sir Augustus muttered. “Well, let’s see what you accursed spellcasters are made of when facing Solamnics.”
The first of the battle horns blared. The Knight of the Rose adjusted his helmet then drew his sword.
As the clear sky thundered again, the Solamnics charged forward.
The forest seemed as endless as it was foreboding. Stefan promised her that they were making progress, but more than once, Idaria wondered if they were making sufficient progress. They had already been forced to take a long rest-sleep, actually-on the elf’s account. That bothered her, for it began to feel to Idaria as if she were entirely to blame for their slowness.
What made it worse was that it was still impossible to tell night from day. By then, one should have followed the other. It was possible that Stefan knew the hour, but the knight never spoke about the passage of time, and for reasons she could not entirely explain to herself, Idaria could not bring herself to ask him what should have been a simple question. All the elf knew was that the Solamnic appeared anxious and beleaguered.