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Something was wrong, seriously wrong. Whilst all around cheered and congratulated him on defeating the beast, Adam knew that he had done no such thing. Whatever had happened to Shegrimoth had been of the creature’s own making, not the result of anything Adam had done. There was only one thing about which Adam was certain; the Dark One still lived, unharmed and now provoked, making him even more dangerous.
Turning away and pushing past the crowds that thronged about him, Adam hurried down the steps from the wall. Kawuhl called after him, but he ignored his cries, not wanting to explain, needing time to think. Only the elf Quilvar followed close by, wanting to be near his friend in case he needed him, yet not speaking as Adam wrestled with whatever troubled him. For some time Adam wandered aimlessly, his diminutive green companion following like a shadow, distressed by the anguish that his friend was suffering.
Gradually Adam began to take note of his surroundings as he forced himself from the despair that he felt, knowing that self-pity would provide no answers. Turning back the way he had come, he almost walked into Quilvar, who still dogged his heels. “Quilvar, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were there.”
“It's all right Ma...Adam, I had no wish to disturb you,” replied the elf, still stumbling over the unfamiliar use of Adam's name.
“Perhaps you should have. All I've been doing is going round in circles.” He sighed and looked at Quilvar, his expression one of confusion, “I just can't understand why Shegrimoth took off like that. It's not possible that he was seriously hurt; I may have caused him some pain, but it certainly wasn't enough for him to admit defeat.”
Unable to offer any explanation, the elf did have one idea, “Perhaps Master Ichabod could provide an answer.”
“You know, maybe you're right. Let's find him and see what he has to say about it.”
Finding the old sorcerer back amongst his books, Adam explained what had happened between himself and Shegrimoth; all the while he was talking, the magician nodded his head, but offered no comment. When he had finished, Ichabod sat stroking his beard, pausing to think over what Adam had just told him.
“I believe that what you say is probably true. It's unlikely you hurt the beast sufficiently for him to submit; there is however another possibility. Until the time that we visited Antalek, Shegrimoth has controlled the pace at which this battle has been conducted. By seeing Toldran, we have taken the first positive steps to control things, forcing the beast to react. It may be he is as yet not strong enough for a confrontation with you, but was forced into showing himself in the way that he did.”
“You mean that by taking the battle to Shegrimoth, we can influence him?” asked Adam.
Ichabod nodded again, “In some small way, yes, but having tested you, he's unlikely to confront you again until he is ready,” cautioned the magician.
“Then we must strike now, before he's ready,” said Adam suddenly filled with determination, “I must go to Laanis and rescue the queen and princess, before he's strong enough to prevent me.”
Shaking his head in disagreement the old mage issued a warning, “I understand your desire to help the queen and princess, but attempting such a rescue will be fraught with dangers. We cannot be certain that Shegrimoth broke off his confrontation with you because of his lack of strength; you could be walking into a trap.”
“Then I shall have to take that risk,” countered Adam, “but I can't just sit around here and wait, perhaps risking the best chance I shall have to free them.”
Thinking a moment or two Ichabod acquiesced, but not without condition, “No, you're probably right, now could be the best time to attempt such a mission, however risky, but you cannot go alone, you will need others to help you. Who will you take? Perhaps Kawuhl can provide some of his men to accompany you.”
“You know that we cannot go in force, it would take too long to get there. Besides, I shall go with Vorcan, and with the queen and princess there will be no room for others,” replied Adam.
“As I recall, the dragon would have room for one more, especially if that one were slight of build,” challenged the sorcerer.
Aware of being manoeuvred, Adam was just unsure in which direction, since he couldn't decide if Ichabod was pursuing the matter for his own ends, or if he was referring to the elf. He hadn't wanted to involve either of them in what he knew would be a dangerous undertaking, but found himself forced into either accepting the inevitable, or causing upset by refusing both of them the chance to go with him.
“If you will permit me, Adam, I should like...”
“No Quilvar,” said Adam vehemently, cutting the elf off in mid sentence, “you've already done enough.”
“But Adam, there's nothing I can do here, I'm small so I won't get in the way, and my magic might prove useful.”
Since Ichabod had made no further move to include himself in the rescue party, Adam concluded that his earlier comment must have been directed at Quilvar. Now he only had the problem of the elf to resolve, “All of which is true, but I cannot expect you to risk your life on this, it's far too dangerous.”
Looking decidedly crestfallen, the elf made one final appeal, “But Adam, I don't belong here, let me at least do as Beorhtán asked and remain with you.”
Could he deny such a request, hadn't the elf proven his right to make such a decision? In his heart, Adam knew he had no prerogative to refuse. “Oh very well,” he grumbled, trying to conceal his pleasure at the thought of having the little green man accompany him.
Before calling Vorcan to take them far across the world to the Southern Lands, Adam took time to examine the maps that Ichabod had of the area. Ancient parchments with crudely drawn outlines and few details, they offered little, and left a great deal unknown about the countries in the southern hemisphere. Trade already existed between the Northern Lands and some of the countries to the east, across the Monad Sea, but those across the Middle Sea, nearest the island of Laanis, remained a mystery. Places with strange sounding names like Skardour, Harkeld and Gholthos.
Ichabod couldn't add much by way of information, since most of what he knew was more myth than hard fact. Considered too dangerous to cross, the Middle Sea accounted for the loss of many ships in years gone by, when they sailed beyond sight of the shores of Mandax and Caregoron. Now the mariners would no longer venture as far south, hence the aged maps. Legend told of huge sea beasts that rose from the depths, devouring whole ships and their crews. There were tales of ships sailing north to cross the top of the world, to reach the Southern Lands by circumnavigating the globe, but there was no proof of such voyages.
Passed down through the ages, the many stories of strange beings and unusual happenings told by mariners, superstitious men at best, has left the three countries and the island of Laanis remain shrouded in mystery, the ideal hideaway, perhaps, for the Ghyyrox and its evil master.
There were no real preparations needed before the two set off on the journey, although just as they were about to leave, Ichabod handed Adam a small flask.
“Take this with you, and only use it if you have to,” he cautioned.
“What is it?” asked Adam staring at the little glass container filled with a pale amber liquid.
“It's a powerful potion that will make you invisible, but its use is limited, since you will only remain hidden for a short time. Drink it and it will take effect immediately, but remember it only lasts for a short time.”
Adam thanked the old man, and putting the flask into the pouch at his waist, bade him farewell. Unhappy at the prospect of leaving the besieged city, although there was little more they could do, Adam and Quilvar departed to call Vorcan. Since the disappearance of Shegrimoth, the attacks on the city had faltered for a time, but now the battle had recommenced with all its earlier ferocity.
As they hurried from Ichabod's rooms and out into the light of the new day, they could hear the crash of the catapults firing ragged salvos, their heavy projectiles striking the walls of the city. There was to be no respite, yet Adam knew he had to try and rescue the queen and princess, praying that the city could hold out until Toldran and his reinforcements arrived.
For several minutes, the dragon's gigantic shadow circled above them, as people fled the ground below, fearful that the huge creature had come to seize them in its massive claws. Slowly Vorcan sank to the ground, his wings disturbing dust and leaves as he struggled to keep his balance in the confines of the small green, the only place remotely suitable for him to land on.
“Ho Adam,” he cried, “have you no concern for a poor old dragon, forcing him to fly in such cramped spaces?”
“Sorry Vorcan,” Adam shouted back, “but we have to leave the city, and we don't have time to worry about such matters. Besides you managed well enough.”
“Few thanks to you, a fine thing it would be were I to injure myself so that I couldn't fly you around,” grumbled the dragon.
“Stop moaning,” shouted Adam as he and Quilvar scrambled up onto the creature's back, “take us away from here, we have to go to Laanis.”
As the dragon beat his wings and lifted them from the ground, his feet caught the top of a nearby tree, sending it crashing down. “See, what did I tell you?” he said spitefully.
“You did that on purpose,” said Quilvar, “you could have lifted your feet well clear. One day you will be proud to look back on these times, to be able to tell of your exploits with Master Adam. If you would only stop moaning, you might even enjoy the experience.”
Although he would probably never admit it, Vorcan had found the days with Adam exciting, and enjoyed flying him around, especially when he had fought with the magicians. “Well am I to guess or are you going to tell me just where this Laanis place is?”
“It's an island that lies far to the south-east, across the Middle Sea and over the Southern Lands,” answered Adam.
“In that case we shall have to proceed with caution,” commented Vorcan, “I cannot use my magic to take us there in one step, since I do not know the place. Firstly, we shall have to cross the sea, then we must proceed in stages, until we sight the island.”
Although Adam had hoped to make the trip quickly, and in one go, he could see that unless Vorcan knew the island, what he suggested made sense. He wasn't too keen on the prospect of having to land in any one of the three countries to the south, but knew they might have to.
Crossing the Middle Sea was no more eventful than their trip to Antalek; one moment they were over Caregoron, the next the shores of Skardour came into view. As the distance shortened, and a bustling sea port appeared beneath them, it immediately dashed their hopes of arriving unseen.
Despite being high in the sky, it wasn't long before they were spotted, although they were unaware of the confusion their presence caused, as they rushed onward.
Word of their passing raced along the dockside as the dark-skinned Skardouri seamen shouted the news from ship to ship. Within minutes the port of Blaven was in an uproar as its inhabitants reacted to the sight of the dragon. One man standing on the quarterdeck of a heavily built man-of-war turned to watch the creature fly overhead; then rushed below to his cabin where he donned his coat, and thrusting his hat onto his head, ran down the gangway and ashore, to be swallowed up by the crowds on the waterfront.
Ignoring the salutes of the various seamen that he passed; the blue-coated figure from the ship never paused in his stride. The bright gold buttons on his coat gleamed in the sunlight, and the swinging hilt of the sword at his hip flashed with colour as the light caught the jewels set in its guard. Reaching the open doorway of the nearby stables, he rushed inside, to reappear moments later clinging to the reins of a fast moving horse as it galloped away from the town, heading in the direction in which the dragon had been flying.
Unaware of what was taking place behind them, Adam agreed to Vorcan setting down in a vast meadow, well beyond the port. As the dragon dropped to the ground, his two passengers scoured the horizon in every direction, but there was no sign they had been seen, as nothing moved. With the cooling breeze from their passage through the air gone, the increased temperature suddenly became more noticeable, as did the humidity. Ignorant of the geography and seasons of this world, Adam could only conclude that their flight south had brought them closer to its equator.
It was uncomfortably hot, making even the slightest movement an effort, bathing him in sweat within minutes. Although Quilvar didn't appear to perspire in the same way, it was evident that he found the climate just as unpleasant, as he pulled his cap forward to shield his eyes.
“What do you intend?” queried the elf.
“I'm not sure,” replied Adam, mopping his brow with the back of his hand, “I hadn't expected it to be so hot, perhaps we should return to the town to see if we can find out more about this island, Laanis. Whatever we do, we should get out of this heat.”
“I agree, but might it not be dangerous going into the town? Maybe we should just move on.”
“Possibly,” said Adam, the heat already making him thirsty, and filling his mind with thoughts of cool drinks, “but we really need to know more before we do. The trouble is we don't know how the locals will react to us. This hair of mine rather singles me out, and although it has advantages, it can be more of a hindrance.”
“To say nothing of my being an elf,” added Quilvar.
“We could go on towards the island,” commented Vorcan.
“True, but it would help to know the lie of the land before we get there. I think you and I should try the town; if the locals show any sign of aggression Vorcan can come and get us.”
“And get arrows and spears thrown at me I suppose,” grumbled the dragon.
“Since when did that sort of thing worry an old scaly sides like you,” chided Adam.
“I'll thank you not to remind me of my age,” Vorcan growled in reply.
“Then it's agreed, you go off and hunt whilst Quilvar and I return to the town to see what we can find out.”
It was a longish walk over uneven ground, although the grass cushioned their way, but the heat of the sun made the journey unpleasant. After they had covered what Adam estimated to be about half the distance, the ground began to rise towards the crest of the hills that lay at the back of the port. It looked a good place to reconnoitre what lay below, and Adam was hoping to find some way that they could get into the town, unseen. He also knew that once over its crest, the hill would provide shade from the sun, which would then be hidden behind it.
They were within a few yards of the summit, when a rider came into view directly ahead of them, giving them no chance to make for the cover that any one of the numerous clumps of bushes dotting the hillside would have provided. Too late to do anything that would make them less conspicuous, they stopped where they stood and waited for the horse and rider to approach, since that was clearly his intent.
As he came closer, they could see that he was dressed in what looked like some sort of uniform, with a blue coat worn over coarse, white linen trousers, and on his head a stiff, black felt cap with a small gold adornment on its front. Riding tall in his saddle, his dark Negroid features surprised Adam, who although he had seen a variety of skin colours amongst the inhabitants of this world, including the pale green of his elf companion, had so far seen no sign of any black skinned race. The effect was even more dramatic on Quilvar, who clutched at Adam's arm as he tried to tell him that such a black-skinned person had to be the servant of Shegrimoth. The elf's obvious reaction to the sight of such an individual was a clear indication that in the lands of the north, dark-skinned people did not exist.
Having no such fear himself, Adam attempted to allay Quilvar’s fear by explaining that the man’s colour was the result of his being born where the climate was much hotter than they were used to and not the result of any alliance with the Dark One. They watched as the approaching rider reined in his horse a few feet from where they stood, and climbed from the saddle. Clutching the hilt of his sword, Adam stood his ground, wary of the newcomer, yet somehow sensing he represented no danger, whilst the elf peered round from behind him as though fearing for his life.
For a moment neither spoke as they sized one another up. The newcomer stood about Adam's height, but was much broader of shoulder, and for that matter, of waist. His hand rested on his sword, mirroring Adam's stance, as he balanced his weight on the balls of his feet, like a cat poised to strike. If he found the colour of Adam's skin or the elf's appearance surprising, he managed to keep his reaction well hidden, although he was clearly cautious of the pair.
“Well stranger, since it is you who are walking uninvited on Lord Thuit's land, perhaps you would care to tell me what you are doing here, and where you think you are going?” queried the dark skinned man, his voice thick and guttural.
Was this a purely chance encounter, or had he seen Vorcan fly over the town and ridden out to investigate? wondered Adam, quickly realizing that he couldn't have known that they would land where they did even if he had seen the dragon. These thoughts raced through his mind as he tried to decide how much to tell the man before him. Could he perhaps bluff his way out by admitting to nothing more than having lost their way and asking for directions to the nearest town?
Deciding to try the bluff, he replied, “We're strangers to these parts, travellers, we go from town to town seeking whatever work we may find, but we appear to have lost our way, since we should have sighted the sea by now.”
“Strangers you may be, but itinerant workers, I think not. Sorcerers, magicians, that's what you are. I saw you not hours since riding the back of a dragon, do you deny me?”
Realizing the futility of such a denial, Adam simply shook his head, annoyed that his association with the dragon was already known.
“Ah! I thought not,” said the Negro triumphantly. “So where do you come from, no pale-skins live in these lands, and as for your friend, I've heard tales of such as he but never in Skardour, you're an elf aren't you?”
Too scared to reply, Quilvar could only nod his head.
“You intrigue me white-face, the mark in your hair suggests something, yet I cannot recall what. Speak up, who are you and where are you from?”
Wondering if he should mention the crystal, Adam decided to keep that piece of information to himself, “I am Adam, and this is my companion, Quilvar. We are travellers from the Northern Lands, from Caregoron, and we are on our way to the south. Whom do I have the honour of addressing?”
“Not that it's any of your business who I am, but I will tell you any way,” he replied pompously, “I am Captain Salach, in the service of Lord Thuit, and if as you say you are travelling south then why do you walk to the north?”
“Because we saw the town as we flew over, and sought food for our journey,” answered Adam.
Although their story seemed plausible, the Negro wasn't satisfied he had heard all of it. “I don't trust you, or your friend. Honest people don't fly on the back of dragons, and there have been no travellers from the Northern Lands for centuries. You will accompany me to the town where you will be given horses so that we can ride to Lord Thuit's home. I'll let him decide what he wishes to do with you.”
Adam felt no obligation to go with this man, since he was certain of his ability to overpower him, and if he called Vorcan, he and Quilvar could be on their way long before the alarm could be raised. It was really a question of his need for information, and a meeting with this Lord Thuit might just provide it. “Very well we shall go with you, but not as your prisoners.”
“Do you think you have the choice?” came the amused response.
“Certainly we do, either you accept that we travel freely, or my friend and I shall depart and go our own way.” Something had spurred Adam to issue the challenge, thinking it might after all be a good idea to give this man some hint who it was he faced.
In a trice the black man had whipped his sword from its scabbard and made to strike Adam. Leaving his own sword where it was Adam touched its pommel with his right hand whilst extending the fingers of his left in the direction of his opponent. He had no intention of injuring the man, if he could prove his point without doing so. A spark flashed from Adam's outstretched fingers, striking the other man's sword, sending a jolt up the blade, causing him to drop it as it burned his flesh.
With the palm of his right hand still stinging from a quite superficial burn, the Negro seemed less moved to give up the fight than before. Grabbing his sword from the ground with his left hand, he lunged forward at Adam. Again, Adam's hand moved, but this time the spark was green in colour and lasted several seconds. The effect on the onrushing captain was immediate, stopping him dead in his tracks, as he froze in the act of raising his blade to strike at Adam. With his thought processes still intact, he was able to understand what Adam said to him.
“Such acts are only likely to injure yourself, give up this foolish struggle, and we will accompany you, but if you persist, I shall have to find some way of preventing you from following us, in which case, you are likely to be hurt. Will you permit us to travel with you freely, or must I incapacitate you? Blink your eyes twice if you agree to allow us to go with you.”
For a moment nothing happened, and Adam was beginning to think the man was refusing to co-operate, but suddenly his eyes blinked twice. Released from the spell, the man staggered, as his limbs shook from the effort of being forced to wait in such an awkward stance. Regaining control, he glared balefully at Adam as he spoke, “Just as I thought,” he muttered, “magicians, you're both magicians.”
Seeing no point in disillusioning the man, Adam pressed for an answer to his question.
“It seems I have little choice in the matter, but I warn you that Lord Thuit will not be pleased when he hears how you have treated one of his men.”
“I'll take that chance,” quipped Adam, “now shall we be on our way?”
For a while they proceeded in silence; the captain had at first made as if to mount his horse, but with the others on foot, had thought better of it, sullenly walking it beside them. Adam and Quilvar occasionally conversed with their minds, giving the Negro no indication of what they were doing, since he was unable to participate. They soon reached the brow of the hill and looking down on the town below; Adam could see they would have had difficulty in reaching it unseen, this seaward side of the hill being completely bereft of any growth other than its grassy covering.
Instead of traversing the hill, the captain led them straight down the steep northern slope, which made the going tricky and especially tough on their leg muscles. Adam wondered if he had chosen the route in a childish attempt to reassert some authority over them, but had neither complained nor resorted to the magic of the walking spell to make it easier. He had no intention of showing any sign of weakness to this man, but by the time they had reached level ground on the outskirts of the town, he felt quite relieved.
Unlike any of the other townships that Adam had visited on this world, the first thing that struck him was the absence of the by now familiar wall. The far reaches consisted of narrow rows of small dwellings, all cheek by jowl with one another, for the most part constructed from timber and flint. The road on which they walked was narrow, and despite the bright sunlight, was dimmed by the proximity of the houses on either side, their upper floors all built out to overshadow the street below.
An open drainage ditch ran the length of the road, the heat causing an overpowering smell to emanate from it, as flies swarmed around it. They passed few people as they walked, those that they did see were like their guide, all Negroes although unlike him, painfully thin and all shabbily dressed. Some stopped to gawk at the two strangers, muttering to one another in hushed tones when they saw the captain. Obviously well known, once or twice men even paused in their stride to salute him, an action that drew little response from their taciturn companion.
Gradually the road widened, and after a couple of changes in direction, Adam could smell the unmistakable odours of the port. Heavily laden with the scent of salt water, the air also carried a strong smell of fish and something else which Adam was later to discover was the smell of tarred rigging. Throughout the captain hadn't offered a single word to explain where they were, or where they were going, Adam's curiosity finally got the better of him.
“You've been very quiet about our destination,” he commented, “perhaps you would care to tell us the name of this place?”
“I care to tell you nothing,” came the terse reply, “but this place is called Blaven, now enough of your questions, the stables are around this corner. I will fetch you horses, then we can ride to Droch.”
A few moments later Salach returned leading two horses, and gestured for them to mount up. Whilst they had waited for the captain to return, the thought had crossed Adam's mind that there was nothing preventing them from fleeing into the warren of streets surrounding the port, but he still felt their best chance lay in going with Salach.
Heading west away from the town, they stayed on a rough road that ran parallel to the shore, often barely feet from the lapping waves. Only at one point where the land jutted out in a small promontory did they leave the beach, but it soon returned. There was nothing to see on the horizon, the land flat and bleak, an inhospitable place offering no shelter should the weather become stormy, although the warmth of the sun on their faces today made it seem pleasant enough.
In the distance they could see a great house standing on a point, the sea visible about a mile either side of it, and Adam guessed probably the same distance before it. Its position gave it a commanding view of the coast for miles to the south and west, and as they came closer and spotted the tower, they knew it had similar views to the east and into the port. Given the flat landscape, no better place existed for such purposes, yet it had the look of being very exposed. Perhaps the local climate never deteriorated to a point where such considerations were necessary; it was certainly hot enough today to drive such thoughts away.
Although he had absolutely nothing on which to base his ideas, Adam had spent the last moments before they arrived at the house, trying to build up a mental picture of Lord Thuit. As they clattered into the cobbled yard to the right side of the house, stable hands appeared to take charge of their horses, and a moment or two later they were being ushered into the main building by a servant who must have heard them arrive.
After a brief discussion with the captain, the man led them to a comfortably furnished room, where he asked them to wait, hurrying off to inform his Lordship of their presence. The inside of the house was remarkably cool, a pleasant change that both Adam and Quilvar were happy to take advantage of, although the elf was unable to relax, still worried by the presence of men with black skins. Strangely, Salach suddenly appeared ill at ease, as if the thought of being in the company of his master made him uncomfortable. They didn't have long to wait, before the servant returned and asked them to join Lord Thuit in his study.
With his image of the man firmly fixed in his mind as they entered the study and came face to face, Adam couldn't help emitting a small gasp of surprise. Instead of the tall, aristocratic figure of his imagination, Lord Thuit stood only inches taller than Quilvar, his girth almost as great as his height. His ebony skin gleaming in the sunlight that streamed through the windows with their panoramic view across the sea, as he stepped forward and extended a hand in greeting.
“Welcome, welcome to my home,” his voice was a mellow bass, “I believe Captain Salach found you wandering across my land. You must forgive him, he tends to be rather zealous about such matters, but he means well.” A strange comment that caused the Captain to grimace, whilst perhaps explaining his earlier discomfort. If, as appeared to be the case, he had simply been carrying out his master's orders, then it was unfair of him to find fault for their execution. Possibly Lord Thuit made a habit of contradicting himself in this way; it would certainly account for the Captain's behaviour if he couldn't be sure of his master's support.
Continuing, apparently unaware of the Captain's consternation, he went on, “You cannot be too careful about strangers wandering the lands in these times, especially, and forgive my bluntness, those of such unusual colouring.”
Recognizing that he faced a man given to quick changes of heart, Adam decided that unless his Lordship gave him cause to think otherwise, he would trust him, and answered as honestly as he could. “Please forgive us Your Lordship, we meant no harm, and in truth were unaware that we trespassed on your land.”
“Your apology is accepted as I'm sure you're not given to deliberately unlawful acts. Now you must tell me about yourselves and where you are from, since clearly you are not from these parts.”
“I am Adam Goodchild, and this is Quilvar my friend and companion. As you can see, Quilvar is an elf who has for many years made his home at Mount Kaldshard; I on the other hand come from a place much further away. We are on our way to the island of Laanis, but as I am sure Captain Salach has already explained, decided to seek food for our journey.”
“Salach says that you travelled here on the back of a dragon, is this true? We've not seen dragons here in Skardour for centuries, how is it that you are able to command such a creature?”
“The dragon and I have a special relationship, he serves me from time to time,” replied Adam.
“Special indeed, are their many dragons where you come from?” asked Lord Thuit.
“No, Vorcan, for that is his name, is the last of his kind on this world.”
“I see, such a creature would be a valuable possession, would you sell him to me, I'll make you a fair offer?”
“He is not mine to sell, but a free agent. As I said we are friends, and he serves me when I need him, but his life is his own.”
“Pity, I could use the likes of him to keep the peasants in order, still never mind,” replied Thuit, then dropped the subject completely. “This mountain of which you spoke, Kaldshard I think you called it, I recall a story about the place, wasn't it supposed to be home to the creator of the Manifex, Beo..., something or other?”
“Beorhtán,” both Adam and Quilvar echoed.
“That's him, Beorhtán. Is the legend true, did he live there?”
Adam nodded at Quilvar, allowing the elf to answer, “Yes, Beorhtán lived at Kaldshard; he was my master for many years.”
“You say was,” commented Thuit, “is he dead.”
“Only in a manner of speaking, he has left his home there and may yet return, but much has to be done before he can come back.”
“Very mysterious, I must say,” turning to Adam he asked, “what does he mean Beorhtán is dead in a manner of speaking?”
“It's a very long story, which if you are willing, I will explain. It will also tell you more of the reasons for our journey, perhaps then you will be able to assist us.”
And so once more Adam related their tale, leaving out only the part about Vilsagoth, from the time he was first brought from his world, right up to the time he and Quilvar left Meriandor in search of the kidnapped queen and princess. Throughout Thuit sat silent, as did the captain, their whole attention given to what Adam was saying. Only when he had finished did they start to ask their questions, one after another, until the effort exhausted Adam.
Finally, Lord Thuit appeared satisfied, and summoning one of his servants ordered that food be prepared for him and his guests. Dismissing the captain, Thuit led them from the room, along a passageway and up a spiral stairway. Adam knew that they had to be in the tower, and as they climbed the steps, they passed a small window that allowed him to catch a glimpse out across the sea. Arriving at an upper landing, Thuit halted before a heavy wooden door, and fishing in the pockets of his waistcoat, withdrew a key and proceeded to unlock the door.
Pushing it inward he gestured for Adam and Quilvar to enter. Windows surrounded the room, offering a clear view in every direction, at the same time accounting for the sudden rise in temperature. Shades of narrow wooden slats lowered over the windows directly facing the sun, reduced the glare and cast thin beams of golden light across the floor. Below the frames a wooden bench covered with cushions circled the room, providing seating so that the view could be enjoyed in comfort. Apart from a few thick pile rugs on the polished wooden floor, the room was sparsely furnished, Adam guessed to avoid obstructing the view, which on such a fine day as this was, was magnificent.
The tower room was obviously Lord Thuit's pride and joy, and he spent several minutes pointing out the various landmarks visible from it. They could see the harbour, and several small fishing vessels tied up alongside, and furthest from them, a massive three-masted ship, her sails all neatly furled. When they pointed her out to their host, Thuit explained that she was the Badreen, Captain Salach's vessel, a fighting ship, carrying a crew of some three hundred or more. Impressed by her lines, Adam marvelled at the sheer size of her, which even at this distance was considerable.
He wished that he had a pair of binoculars or a telescope that he might view her in more detail, but such instruments were clearly missing on this world. As he glanced again at the ship before turning away, something else registered its absence; she had no gun ports, gunpowder and explosives being at least one invention he was happy to see missing from this place. As his attention returned to what lay within the room, he noticed the almost glazed expression on the Negro Lord's face. In a sudden flash of inspiration, Adam knew that this room and all that was visible beyond was his domain. He ruled the lives of all within it, and the recollection of the squalid streets of the town compared to the luxury of this house made Adam realize that he wasn't dealing with any munificent landowner.
Leading them from the room, Lord Thuit went back down the stairs, and into a vast dining room where food had already been laid out. Unlike the occasion back in Beorhtán's home, the banquet set out before them only seemed to emphasize the poverty they had witnessed in the town. Not wishing to offend their host, they ate well, all the while eager to be on their way, now that it was apparent that they would learn little of use from Thuit.
During the meal, Adam had attempted to draw information from the man, but his efforts had been spectacularly unsuccessful. The only item that appeared to have any worth was when he had casually mentioned the running conflict between Skardour and its neighbour, Harkeld. Apparently, things had been heating up recently along their common border, with raiding parties striking on both sides. It all sounded very reminiscent of the troubles between Caregoron and her neighbours, Antalek and Mandax.
Pressing the man for more detail, either he was being evasive or genuinely didn't know; either way he offered nothing further on the subject. Recalling one of Ichabod's maps, Adam asked Lord Thuit whether similar problems existed with their southern most neighbour, Gholthos. His reply was terse to the point of rudeness.
“Nothing lives long enough in Gholthos to worry us.” Beyond which, he refused to elaborate.
Adam felt disappointed that they had delayed for so long and learned so little. Making their excuses as soon as they could, the pair hurried from the house, intent on calling Vorcan and making their escape. As it happened they got no further than the courtyard, before Captain Salach stepped from behind the trunk of a tree to block their exit. For whatever reason, the man had to have been waiting for them to depart, and he now seemed intent on delaying them further. Adam reached for his sword as did Quilvar, neither wishing to get into a fight, yet both determined not to be held back.
“You won't need your swords gentlemen, I just wish to speak with you for a short while, then you may be on your way.”
Pushing his sword back into its scabbard, Adam still retained his grip on its hilt, prepared in case the captain decided to try anything. “Whatever you have to say, make it quick, my friend and I are keen to be away from here.”
“I'm sure you are, but a little advice would not go amiss. Doubtless you tried and I suspect failed to get Lord Thuit to tell you about Skardour and your journey south.” He paused for a moment as if judging their reaction to his words. Something must have given them away, as he continued, “So I was right, well no matter. Had you known his Lordship better, you would have appreciated; he leads a very insular existence, and suffers from a weak memory. A nuisance as I'm sure you appreciated when he first welcomed you, but hardly a problem.”
Now Adam began to understand why it was that the peoples of the town lived so poorly, it wasn't Lord Thuit's doing. Strange though it might seem, it was the Captain who kept them in such terrible conditions, it was he who ran the estate, presumably by force, Thuit was nothing more than a figurehead. The knowledge caused a brief moment of regret for his earlier thoughts regarding Thuit, but it soon passed.
“So, perhaps you can tell us which way we should travel. You know our intended destination, should we avoid crossing the border into Harkeld? Lord Thuit mentioned the troubles there. Would we do better travelling to Gholthos?” asked Adam.
“Whatever troubles there are at the border with Harkeld, they will be as nothing compared to what you might find were you to enter Gholthos. No word has reached beyond its borders for many months now, all those who have crossed into Gholthos in recent times have not returned.”
“Lord Thuit mentioned something about nothing living in Gholthos, what did he mean by that?” queried Adam.
“Difficult to say, he gets confused, but he probably refers to the rumours that spread from there about the 'living dead,' that were supposed to have been seen.”
Was it possible, could the Phyrith have raised more of the dead for his armies? The thought frightened Adam. Had Gholthos already fallen to Shegrimoth, had its people suffered the same end as those of Kóren, at the hands of the Ghyyrox? The possibilities were too horrible to contemplate, especially as they appeared to be discussing the fate of a whole country, not just a city as in the case of the Mandax capital.
Now he knew he would have to travel to Gholthos, he needed to find out the same way that he had previously, to be sure of the fate of the country and its inhabitants. Quilvar must have sensed his thoughts, because he suddenly spoke clearly in his head, “We had best be on our way if we are to discover the secrets of Gholthos.”
He could have cried at the elf's words. He knew that at last he was approaching the centre of the evil web that Shegrimoth was weaving, that soon he would face the purpose for which he had been brought to this world, yet he had no right to expect the elf to accompany him. Already he had done more than enough; now he had to insist he remain here in Skardour until he could get Vorcan to return him to Meriandor.
Although he could hear none of the interchange between Adam and the elf, the captain could sense something was going on. Unable to participate, he still had one piece of information that he had been holding back. Now, he decided would be the time to drop his little bombshell.
