Hawkmoon made no reply.
When the guard had turned back, chuckling, Mygan bent closer again.
"You're Hawkmoon?"
"You've heard of me?"
"Something. If you're Hawkmoon, you may be speaking the truth, for though I be of Granbretan, I hold no brief for the Lords who rule in Londra. But how do you know who my enemies are?"
"Baron Meliadus of Kroiden has learned of the secret you imparted to Tozer who was your guest here not long ago…"
"Imparted! He wheedled it from me, stole one of my rings when I slept, used it to escape. Wanted to ingratiate himself with his masters in Londra, I gather…"
"You are right. Tozer told them of a power, boasted that it was a mental attribute, demonstrated his power and turned up in the Kamarg…"
"Doubtless by accident. He had no conception of how to use the ring properly."
"So we gathered."
"I believe you, Hawkmoon, and I fear this Meliadus."
"You'll free us so that we can attempt to escape from here, protect you against him?"
"I doubt if I need your protection."
Mygan disappeared from Hawkmoon's view.
"What does he plan, I wonder," said D'Averc, who had deliberately remained silent until now.
Hawkmoon shook his head.
Mygan reappeared with a long knife in his hand. He stretched out and began slicing through Hawkmoon's bonds until at last the Duke von Koln was able to free himself, keeping a wary eye on the guards outside.
"Hand me the knife," he whispered, and took it from Mygan's hand. He began cutting away D'Averc's ropes.
From outside they heard voices.
"Baron Meliadus is returning," one of the guards said. "He sounds in an evil temper."
Hawkmoon darted an anxious glance at D'Averc and they sprang up.
Alerted by the movement, one of the guards turned, crying out in surprise.
The two men darted forward. Hawkmoon's hand stopped the guard from drawing his sword. D'Averc's arm went round another's throat and drew his sword for him. The sword rose and fell even before the guard could scream.
While Hawkmoon wrestled with the first guard, D'Averc engaged the third. The clang of swords began to sound in the air and they heard Meliadus's shout of surprise.
Hawkmoon threw his opponent to the ground and placed a knee in his groin, drew the dagger that was still sheathed at his side, prised back the mask and struck the man in the throat.
Meanwhile, D'Averc had despatched his man, stood panting over the corpse.
Mygan called from the back of the cavern. "I see you wear crystal rings, like those I have. Do you know how to control them?"
"We know only how to return to the Kamarg! A turn to the left…"
"Aye. Well, Hawkmoon, I would help you. You must turn the crystals first to the right and then to the left. Repeat the movement six times and then…"
The great bulk of Meliadus loomed in the entrance to the cavern.
"Oh, Hawkmoon-you plague me still. The old man! Seize him!"
The rest of Meliadus's warriors began to surge into the cavern. D'Averc and Hawkmoon fell back before them, desperately fighting.
The old man shouted in fury: "Trespassers. Back!"
He rushed forward with his long knife raised.
"No!" cried Hawkmoon. "Mygan-let us do the blade work. Keep away. You are defenceless against such as these!"
But Mygan did not retreat. Hawkmoon tried to reach him, saw him go down before a blow from a wolf sword, struck out at the one who had struck Mygan.
The cavern was in confusion as they retreated back into the inner cave. The sound of the swords echoed, counterpointed by Meliadus's enraged shouts.
Hawkmoon dragged the wounded Mygan back to the second cave, warding off the blows that fell upon them both.
Now Hawkmoon faced the singing blade of Meliadus himself, who swung his sword two-handed.
Hawkmoon felt a numbing shock in his left shoulder, felt blood begin to soak his sleeve. He parried a further blow, then struck back, taking Meliadus in the arm.
The baron groaned and staggered.
"Now, D'Averc!" called Hawkmoon. "Now, Mygan!
Turn the crystals! It is our only hope of escape!"
He turned the crystal in his ring first to the right and then to the left, then six times more to right and left.
Meliadus growled and came at him again. Hawkmoon raised his sword to block the blow.
And then Meliadus had vanished.
So had the cavern, so had his friends.
He stood alone upon a plain that stretched flat in all directions. It was noon, for a huge sun hung in the sky.
The plain was of turf of a kind that grew close to the ground and the smell it gave off reminded Hawkmoon of spring.
Where was he? Had Mygan tricked him? Where were the others?
Then the figure of Mygan of Llandar began to materialize close by lying on the turf and clutching at his worst wound. He was covered in a dozen sword cuts, his leonine face pale and twisted with pain. Hawkmoon sheathed his sword and sprang towards him.
"Mygan…"
"Ah, I'm dying, I fear, Hawkmoon. But at least I've served in the shaping of your destiny. The Runestaff…"
"My destiny? What do you mean? And what of the Runestaff? I've heard so much of that mysterious artifact, and yet no one will tell me exactly how it concerns me…"
"You'll learn when it's time. Meanwhile…"
Suddenly D'Averc appeared, staring around him in astonishment. "The things work! Thank the Runestaff for that. I'd thought us all surely slain."
"You-you must seek…" Mygan began to cough.
Blood spurted from between his teeth, falling down his chin.
Hawkmoon cradled his head in his arms. "Do not try to speak, Mygan. You are badly wounded. We must find help. Perhaps if we returned to Castle Brass…"
Mygan shook his head. "You cannot."
"Cannot return? But why? The rings worked to bring us here. A turn to the left…"
"No. Once you have shifted in this way, the rings must be re-set."
"How shall we set them?"
"I will not tell you!"
"Will not? You mean cannot?"
"No. It was my intention to bring you through space to this land where you must fulfill part of your destiny. You must seek-ah, ah! The pain!"
"You have tricked us, old man," said D'Averc.
"You wish us to play some role in a scheme of your own. But you are dying. We cannot help you now. Tell us how to return to Castle Brass and we shall get someone to doctor you."
"It was no selfish whim that instructed me to bring you here. It was knowledge of history. I have travelled to many places, visited many eras, by means of the rings. I know much. I know what you serve, Hawkmoon, and I know that the time has come for you to venture here."
"Where?" Hawkmoon said desperately. "In what time have you deposited us? What is the land called? It seems to consist entirely of this flat plain!"
But Mygan was coughing blood again and it was plain that death was close.
"Take my rings," he said, breathing with difficulty.
"They could be useful. But seek first Narleen and the Sword of the Dawn-that lies to your south. Then turn north, when that's done, and seek the city of Dnarkand the Runestaff." He coughed again, then his body shook with a great spasm and life fled him.
Hawkmoon looked up at D'Averc.
"The Runestaff? Are we then in Asiacommunista where the thing is supposed to dwell?"
"It would be ironic, considering our earlier ruse," said D'Averc, dabbing with his kerchief at a wound on his leg. "Perhaps that is where we are. I care not. We are away from that boorish Meliadus and his bloodthirsty pack. The sun above is warm. Save for our wounds, we are considerably better off than we might have been."
Looking about him, Hawkmoon sighed. "I am not sure. If Taragorm's experiments are successful, he could find a way through to our Kamarg. I would rather be there than here." He fingered his ring. "I wonder…"