Numbly, like a mindless puppet, Hawk obeyed. Evann watched as he gathered up one, then another, then another. When he held the last of them, he froze, staring at Evann and the others as if aware of them for the first time.
“You—” he said, confused. “I think—we—”
“Quickly!” Evann said. “Pin the amulets onto your cloak. They’ll protect you.”
Hawk obeyed, fingers fumbling.
“We must escape before the Hag returns,” Evann went on softly. “Give me your knife. I’ll cut my men free. Then we’ll all escape together.”
“Escape.” Hawk glanced sidelong at the Hag’s cave for a moment, then drew his knife and stepped forward. In one quick movement he severed the ropes around Evann’s wrists.
Fingers half numb from cold and loss of circulation from the ropes, Evann massaged his wrists for a second. Then, gently, he pried the blade from Hawk’s grasp.
Harrach had seen what was happening and crawled closer, arms outstretched. Evann slit his ropes, too, then passed him the knife.
“Cut everyone else free,” he said.
“Aye, sir.” Harrach rubbed the feeling back into his hands. “Do we run?”
Evann hesitated. “No. Stay here, in line, on the ground, like there’s nothing wrong. We don’t want to arouse suspicion yet.”
“Aye, sir,” Harrach said. He turned and started sawing at Lothar’s bonds.
Standing, Evann grabbed Hawk by the elbow and propelled him toward the stables. He felt a sudden rush of energy now that he had a plan. They’d need mounts next.
“When we get inside, order ten horses saddled,” he told Hawk.
“Horses …” Hawk mumbled.
He seemed dazed, hardly able to think. It had to be the result of the Hag’s magic wearing off after years of being enslaved to her.
“Snap to, soldier! You have your orders!”
“Yes, sir!” Hawk straightened and seemed to draw on inner reserves of strength.
Evann held his breath. He’d given Hawk strong orders hoping his training and instincts would take over—but would it work?
Side by side, they ducked through a low doorway into the stables. Evann surveyed the long rows of stalls, each one occupied. The air inside smelled thick from horses, hay, and manure.
One of Hawk’s men had been rubbing down a gray mare. Hawk strode up to him without hesitation. “Saddle ten horses,” he said to the soldier on duty. “Have them waiting for me in twenty minutes.”
“Sir?” The soldier looked from Hawk to Evann and back again. He was one of the men who’d helped Hawk capture them, Evann thought. If he suspected something …
Hawk snapped, “You heard me, Hrell. Ten horses. I have a mission tonight.”
“Yes, sir!” The man hurried to obey.
Evann whispered, “Our swords next.”
Turning, Hawk strode out into the camp again. Without hesitation, he headed for one of the smaller tents.
Evann trailed him. It was working, he thought, scarcely able to believe his fortune. His hands were trembling. They were going to make it. If only the Hag stayed in her cave until they could get away….
Hawk swept back the tent flap. Inside stood racks of swords, several pikes, crossbows, and other weapons. Clearly they’d found the camp’s armory. All their weapons had been piled just inside. Evann pulled his sword from the heap and belted it on, then retrieved his two knives. Meanwhile Hawk gathered up the other weapons taken from Evann’s men.
As he worked, Evann studied Hawk. The man seemed strangely withdrawn.
“I loved her,” Hawk said slowly. “Do you know that, Evann? I loved her.”
Evann didn’t know what to say. “You’ll be home ,” he promised. “Your family loves you, too.”
They ducked out of the tent. Evann looked over the camp briefly. His own men still sat or sprawled or lay before the Hag’s cave as if prisoners. All of Hawk’s men had gone into the larger tents. The horses, he assumed, would be waiting for them in the stables. Everything seemed to be going right for once.
“Get your men ready,” Hawk said to him. “I’ll bring the horses.”
“You’re sure …?” Evann said softly.
Hawk gave a nod. “Yes. Now hurry, before the Hag returns.”
Twenty
The Hag sat in her cave staring deep into her cauldron. As she watched, Captain Evann scurried around her camp like a chicken with its head cut off, dragging the creature he thought was Orin Hawk to the stables, then to the armory tent, then back to his men. She chuckled. If he only knew the truth, it would frighten him as much as she had.
The serpents where her feet should have been led out a series of hissing sighs. They sensed her triumphant mood.
“What do you think, pretty-pretty?” she asked.
Beside her, the real Orin Hawk shifted. He was staring down at the cauldron as well, watching the scene outside.
“Will it work?” he asked. “Will that creature fool them?”
“Don’t my plans always work?”
“Yes,” he said. He kissed the back of her neck. She smiled.
“Yesssss …” she echoed. She began to scream with laughter.
Candabraxis woke suddenly from a light fever. He sat up, not sure where he was.
“Light!” he commanded in a croaking voice. A glowing sphere of energy sprang into existence overhead. Its wan glow showed him his bedchamber in Castle Graben’s east tower.
Suddenly everything came back to him. The market—the man who’d tried to stab him—
“Easy,” said a woman’s soft voice. “Lie back, now.”
He focused on her: an old woman with a plain face, graying brown hair, and clear blue eyes. She had a shawl around her shoulders. She’d been sitting up beside him.
“Who are you?” he said. “What happened to me?”
“My name is Mari,” she said. “You were nearly killed in the market.” She told him all that had happened and how she had saved his life.
“I am indebted to you,” he said softly. He sank back, staring up at the ceiling.
“You are indebted to no one,” Mari said. “It is our duty to strive against the dark forces whenever they appear among us.”
“You know magic?” he asked. He propped himself up on his elbows and regarded her with new interest. His master had talked like that at times. Duty, responsibility, fighting for justice—these things had been stressed to him time and again throughout his studies. He’d thought these lessons merely the eccentricities of an old wizard, but now …
“No,” she said, “I know no magic. I am just a poor old healer. But I listen and I learn. My grandmother, now, she had a real talent, bless her.”
“I think you sell your skills too cheaply, Mari. But perhaps that’s best, if you want to avoid notice by the dark forces.”
She smiled. “Perhaps.” Taking up her knitting, she began work again. It was another shawl, this one yellow and peach.
He looked off to the distance, considering all that had happened. Good and evil had seemed like such abstract concepts in his studies. Now that he’d encountered the dark forces, now that they had almost killed him, he felt as though a veil had been lifted from his eyes. No longer academic concepts, they had become all too real.
It had to have been the Hag, he thought. Somehow she’d become aware of him. Her attempts to scry on him told him that much. Perhaps his flash-of-light spell had done more than drive her away. Perhaps it had angered her enough to make her want to kill him.
But why? He had never done anything to her.
Or had he?
With a sick feeling in his stomach, he recalled suggesting the rescue of Orin Hawk. Had that been enough for her to have him murdered?
He pressed his eyes shut. Probably. One who attracts the attention of an abomination as powerful as the Hag has to expect things like this to happen.