Duty. Responsibility. Justice.
He understood now. It all came clear. He had been drawn to Grabentod not for some great personal destiny, but to learn the nature of life.
I have to fight for what I believe in, he told himself. I have to make a difference in the world.
Clearly the Hag feared his powers. Why else would she try to kill him at such a distance and at such a great effort? And for such a being as her to fear him, he must pose a threat to her, or at least to her comfort and security.
He sat upright, taking a series of deep breaths. For a second his head swam drunkenly, but then the universe steadied around him. Bandages swathed his right hand, and when he wiggled his fingers experimentally, a sharp stab of pain traveled from his palm to his elbow.
“You must rest!” Mari protested.
“I have too much to do,” he said with determination.
A thousand ideas surged through his mind— spells and counterspells, charms and elixirs and potions. And then he conceived of something new—a huge, powerful rune of protection like none he’d ever seen before. It hung in his mind, a vision of perfection.
He could do it, he knew suddenly. He could protect Castle Graben from the Hag.
The serpent reared back, looking Haltengabben in the eyes. Its fangs glistened with poison. Its tongue flicked out, tasting the air.
Haltengabben concealed her shudder of disgust and fear by picking up the small silver knife on her desk. She used it for a letter opener, but it could be a deadly weapon in her hands as well.
“Ssssooo,” the serpent said, “what of our bargain?”
“I have taken steps—”
“The wizard is still alive!”
“The wizard is under the protection of the regent,” Haltengabben said. “Things are difficult. I need more time to work—”
“No more time!” The serpent wove its head before her and gave a low hiss. “The contract is canceled! I will dispose of the wizard myself!”
Rearing back, the serpent faded from view, evaporating like a morning fog beneath a hot sun.
Haltengabben swallowed. She almost felt sorry for the wizard. Almost.
Mostly she felt sorry for herself. A pound of gold, lost… and now she’d have to make up for the assassin’s death from her own pocket.
Twenty-One
The journey back to Grabentod was nothing short of a nightmare.
Hawk led them up into the mountains behind the Hag’s camp and through a small pass that would have been treacherous by daylight. By night, it was almost impassable. The horses stumbled and skidded on crumbling shale, patches of ice, and loose rocks. Only by dismounting and plodding at a snail’s pace did they finally reach another high wide cave. At Hawk’s request, the men mounted again, and headed toward the cave mouth. This cavern had torches burning inside, and Evann glimpsed dozens of goblin warriors lining the walls.
“Pay them no heed,” Hawk said. “The Hag has a truce with them. We may pass at will through their territory, as they may pass through ours.”
Swallowing nervously, Evann obeyed. He saw how his men clung tight to their reins, gazes fastened on the rough stone floor ahead of them.
And so they rode through the heart of the mountain, passing close enough to a goblin city to hear the ringing of a blacksmith’s hammer, hideous croaking voices raised in song, and sounds of axes clanging against axes—military drills or sport of some kind, he supposed.
From time to time Evann stole quick glances up side tunnels, and each time he glimpsed small groups of goblins watching them from the shadows. They wore steel helms with horns on top and mismatched plate armor, and carried wicked looking axes in their gnarled, bony hands.
Hawk might have free passage through here, Evann realized, but he had no friends. These goblins would just as soon have killed them all.
Toward morning, they emerged from a smaller cave, one just large enough for their horses to slip through. It was dawn outside, and the sudden sunlight and sharply colder air brought Evann up short.
They’d been riding all night. Now, he realized, looking at the mountains around them, they’d emerged close to the southeastern corner of Grabentod. Home! He could have cried with relief.
Drawing a deep breath, Evann led his men forward. Suddenly he wanted to get as far from the goblin caves as possible. The Hag had doubtless already missed Hawk … and if she sent the goblins after them, he knew they wouldn’t stand much chance.
“I’ve been here before,” Hawk said, riding up next to him as their horses picked their way down the slope toward the foothills below.
“Oh?” Evann glanced over at him. Hawk looked drained, with huge dark circles under his eyes and new, deep-etched lines around his mouth and forehead. The Hag’s magic had taken its toll on him, Evann thought grimly.
Hawk nodded. “We used to hunt here. There’s an abandoned farmstead ahead, just beyond that hill. We can rest safely there.”
Evann glanced back. “The goblins, though … surely we need more distance to be safe.”
“They won’t venture into Grabentod,” Hawk said firmly. “I don’t know why … but they won’t. The Hag tried to get them to attack your lands for years, but they always refused.”
“Ah.” Evann considered that bit of information. If they were safe here, then they should make camp. He felt worn to his bones, and his men looked exhausted, almost ready to drop.
Evann nodded. “Lead the way,” he said to Hawk. “We’ll spend the day here.”
Hawk spurred his horse, and its plodding steps quickened a little, following a narrow trail down.
Half an hour later they reached the abandoned farm. The main building consisted of crumbling stone walls, none more than four feet high, surrounded by high scrub brush and a scattering of twisted pine trees. It had a barren, desolate feel, as though nobody had been here in many years.
Evann dismounted, surveying the scene. It would do, he thought, once they had a fire going. Here there would be no ghosts to bother them.
Quickly giving the orders, he helped Hawk drag Uwe’s litter into the ruins. The boy did not look good. His eyes were deeply sunken, his cheekbones were swollen, and his skin looked more like clay than flesh and blood.
“I’ll tend to him,” Hawk said. “I have some knowledge of healing. See to your men and camp.”
“You’re sure?” Evann asked.
Hawk nodded briefly. “I’ll do all that’s needed.”
It took an hour to set camp properly. At last, with two sentries posted, a large fire in the middle of the ruins, and the horses fed and tethered and under warm blankets, Captain Evann returned to Hawk’s side.
“How is he?” he asked.
“Not good,” Hawk said grimly. “The trip through the mountain was too much for him, I fear.”
Uwe suddenly stirred and moaned. A little color had come back into his cheeks.
“He looks a little better,” Evann ventured.
“It’s the fever. It’s put color back in his cheeks.
We’ll keep him close to the fire today and hope it breaks…. He may live to see another day, but I would not count on it.”
Evann nodded grimly. Of all his men, Uwe might have been the most expendable … but in many ways he had been Captain Evann’s favorite. Evann had seen a lot of himself in Uwe, and he’d hoped to raise him right.
“We’ll pray for the best,” he said.
Over Mari’s protests, Candabraxis rose and went into his workroom. She followed him.
“You must rest!”
“I don’t have time,” he said. “There is too much to do … there is too much I have to accomplish!”
He gathered up an armload of jars and set out for the stairs. At the doorway a sudden pang stabbed him in the stomach, and he gasped in pain. Two of the jars fell free, smashing on the floor and scattering dry powders everywhere.