Chapter 17 (Original edit)

Chapter XVII

The trip to Dead Key was quick and unexceptional. Matthias had not exaggerated when he had called his brother's ship `a fine little vessel.' She was indeed that, a sleek little craft much like that of the smuggler from Rendor who had brought the quartet to Barabel. The island itself was anything but fine. Small and barren, the island showed no sign of anything alive as far as the eye could see anywhere in its environs. Even the water of the lagoon where they anchored took on a lifeless, dreary tinge in the area where it abutted the island. The sand itself was rent with tremendous outcroppings of black rock and great fissures which belched fetid steam and foul, sulphurous smoke that left the island looking as if it had been coated by some mad god with a patina of foul, wet ash.

In the center of the tiny, lifeless accumulation of sand and stone, was a single tower made of white stone with wide openings all around its zenith. It looked as if it was some sort of lighthouse intended to warn ships away from the shallows near the key. Upon reflection, it seemed strange to Enki that such an edifice would exist on Dead Key. No one lived there. It wasn't near any other inhabited islands and there was no sign that the island lay anywhere near the shipping lanes. There was no reason to place a lighthouse in so insignificant and isolated a location.

"If that is the case, then that lighthouse must be the next leg on our journey. If the Sword of Might is anywhere around here, it will be there that we find it," Enki reflected. "I'd better get the others together and we can go in and investigate."

"Matthias, do you know anything about that tower on the island there?" Seeing her newly acquired retainer shake his head, Enki continued, "It would seem then that we have found something worth investigating. Shall we go ashore?"

The other travelers from Seremoreh nodded their agreement, but Matthias seemed to become rather nervous and agitated about the prospect. When Enki asked his what was troubling him, their "expediter" shuddered and said, "Your ladyship, I know that you are paying me to act as your guide, but I really would rather not go over there to the islet. It is a place that mothers hereabouts use as a sort of threat to children when they misbehave, and while I know I am being foolish, I would count it as a great favor if you would let me remain here until to you return. I don't believe I could be of much service to you if there is a monster to be fought over there and I probably would end up getting in you way. And to be honest, I would really rather not meet the Child of Night if it really exists...." The rogue looked at Enki beseechingly.

The warrior sighed and shook her head. "Alright, you can stay. We didn't hire you to fight our battles, and since you have never set foot on Dead Key, you won't be of much value as a guide. I think we can handle whatever we come across in that tower on our own and, if we can not, there is little that you could do to change that. Stay here. Do not leave for any reason. Should we fail to return in a five-day, then you may go. Should that condition become reality, do not tell anyone of our excursion or it will be the worse for you."

The warrior looked over at her companions and said, "Well then, should we be about it? You there," Enki called to one of the members of the disreputable-looking crew of Matthias' brother's vessel, "lower a boat so that we might be about our business."

The trip into shore went smoothly. The water was dead calm, not even a ripple disturbed the gray, glass-like surface of the lagoon. Nothing disturbed the peace under the water's surface either. Not a fish, not a crustacean, not a mollusk, not even a shoot of seaweed was visible in the translucent water. There were ships aplenty littering the dull grey sands of the cove's bottom. Literally dozens of vessels had found their final resting place here. Or rather the skeletons of ships. It was no wonder that the place had acquired the name Dead Key. For not only were the carcasses of all sorts of sailing craft cluttering the lagoon floor, but the remnants of their crew rested with them.

"What could have brought so many ships here to die," Enki murmured half to herself. "I wish Matthias was here so he could tell us more about this Dead Cove. Nothing in what Matthias said about the Child of Night and the legend which surrounds him explains this. Does this mean that some other danger lurks here in this gods-forsaken place, or are these the remnants of others such as us who followed the trail of the legend of the guardian and the weapon it guards?"

"Don't know about that, lass," replied Wolf softly. "I expect that we'll find out the answers once we go over there to that white tower and take a look at it. If it is a lighthouse, perhaps it lured the ships here during storms or some such. But regardless of the Child of Night or other mysteries which we have yet to puzzle out, there are some dangers here which we can count on: heat, poisonous vapors, and the like. This island is a dragonmount. I've only seen them ere this in the mountains of Seremoreh, but the signs are unmistakable. Those smoke and steam vents are very rare anywhere else and with the lack of any signs of life here, I'd being willing to wager that their effluvium is laced well with foul gases which kill anything that comes near. I suspect that such toxic fumes are responsible for at least some of the derelicts which see all about us. So we might want to refrain from spending too much time hereabouts. Oh, and if the whole place starts shaking or you hear a deep rumbling, you might try to run....although that might be somewhat pointless since there really isn't anywhere to run."

Trudging through the dank soot which covered the island, the quartet of adventures soon arrived at the only object of interest which defaced its otherwise dreary, natural surface. The tower was unusual but unspectacular. It wasn't particularly tall and the stone seemed perfectly normal. Strangely, no apparent entrance interrupted the smooth regularity of the surface. It was also odd that there wasn't any sign that the fiery nature of the island had had even the slightest deleterious effect upon the structure. Enki drew her dagger and scratched the building's surface. The stone scored readily enough, so it wasn't some enchanted, impervious substance which resisted all attempts to chip its surface.

It seemed to Enki that that suggested that the tower was relatively new. But why no door? Why would someone want to build a structure that no one could enter? Perhaps because whatever was inside the building was too dangerous to allow to escape. While that seemed to make some sense, it didn't explain why the huge openings at the top of the tower existed. It wasn't so tall that no one could leave by leaping if the were forced to. Perhaps many would suffer injury in the attempt, but Enki thought that she herself could vault from the top of the lighthouse or prison or whatever this building was and land unscathed. The first problem was to get in though, and, while if worst came to worst they could use climbing equipment to scale the walls, Enki wasn't willing to concede that the constructors of the place hadn't secreted some means of ingress to its environs.

"I can't see anything here! Can any of the rest of you see any way to get in?" called Enki. "What about you, Neun Ja? This is your area of expertise, do you see any sign of door on this blasted tower?"

"At present I do not discern any trace of a means of entering the structure which we see before us, honorable warrior," the shadow mage replied. "I believe I can detect the presence of any such that are within our reach, however. If you will allow me a moment to ready a certain spell, I will ascertain whether or not a door is present."

The raven-tressed sorceress reached in a pouch which she had attached to belt, both of which were a dull black which blended almost indistinguishably with the rest of her garb to create a nearly solid facade. From it, she extracted a dark powder which she spread quickly in the air with a wave of her hand. The powder seemed to run and flow as floated to the ground where it merged with Neun Ja's shadow and made it seem almost as if it were an inky fluid which flowed over the land before her. When the sorceress stepped toward the tower, her shadow seemed to flow up the wall seeking some sort of purchase for itself.

"Now," Neun Ja explained to her somewhat mystified comrades, "honorable friends, I will walk around the tower. If, as I pass my shadow touches an opening of any sort, concealed or even magically hidden, it should cling to the edges of that portal, outlining it for all to see when I move on. Once we have located such a doorway, it should hopefully be possible then to find a means of activating it that so we may inspect the interior of yon spire."

Neun Ja began to stride widdershins around the lighthouse. As she moved her shadow seemed to drip and swirl as it passed over the tower surface, almost as if it was searching this way and that for some sort of clever means of concealment by peering from all angles at every inch of the wall. Neun Ja had started with sun streaming down on her back as she faced the wall, as she walked and the sun shifted angles with respect to her, she shifted too, so that she was always facing the tower directly. The bizarre shadow she cast never changed. Though a natural shadow would have changed angles with the changing direction of the sun, Neun Ja's strangely augmented silhouette remained her mirror image as it slid across the stone. When she reached the line where one side of the tower protected the other from the probing rays of the sun, and the beneficiary fell into shadow, Neun Ja continued to turn and face the tower. Her shadow moved with her. The lack of light did not seem to even slightly diminish the sorceress' strange shadow. It continued its oily march across the tower as if Neun Ja was still backlit by the bright sun.

As the saffron-skinned mage reentered the light near where Enki stood, a bit of Neun Ja's shadow seemed to break off and flow strangely around the wall to limn some sort of an arch. Enki walked over to mark the spot, not sure how long the effect of Neun Ja's spell would last.

The sorceress was soon finished with her circuit around the tower. As she reached the place where she had started around the base of the spire, Neun Ja waved her hand and her shadow resumed its normal complexion. She called, "Can any of you, my most honorable colleagues, note any sign of a portal?"

"Over here," shouted Enki. "There is some sort of vault outlined in black on the tower wall over here!"

"And here," bellowed Wolf from the other side of the tower. "I can make out the outlines of some sort of doorway in the sand."

Neun Ja nodded, "Good, now I must discern what means there is of opening these portals. First, I think, the entry into the tower must be investigated. The doorway in the sand may be the path to what we seek here, but it leads to the great unknown, whereas the opening in the side of the tower leads to an area that we can see is limited in its scope and thus more easily investigated. Do you concur, honorable warrior?"

At Enki's nod of agreement, the shadow mage walked over to the portal by which the warrior maid stood. Neun Ja began to run her fingers along the seams that her magic had uncovered. Her fingers slowly slid along the length and breadth of the black lines which limned the door. Apparently, satisfied with what she found there, the sorceress continued her probe of the mysteries of the tower entry by passing her hands over the door itself as she had over its edges. Stopping at place high in the center of the door, Neun Ja began to probe as if there was some sort of mechanism located in that spot.

There was a strange clicking noise and the veil which had hidden the door fell away so that the entire quartet could clearly make out the door. There was no visible handle with which to grasp and open the portal. In fact, the only sign beyond the now visible edges of the door that it was indeed any different than the rest of the tower wall was a series of runes which began at one end of the arch which topped the door and finished at the vault's other end.

"These runes are in a language of which I do not have knowledge, honorable friends," said Neun Ja without cheer. "Do any of you ken their meaning?

Enki shook her head, "I have never seen their like before. Ordolf," the warrior called, "Could you come over here and see if you recognize the script Neun Ja has uncovered?"

The archmage nodded and walked over to where his two female colleagues stood and gazed at the writing which now decorated the wall over the arch. "Remarkable, the language is one which I had not thought to see in such a desolate place, and certainly not on what appears to be new construction. It is the secret tongue of the ancient mages of the Boranean Empire which once dominated the land we now call the Spice Coast. It fell nearly a millennium ago during the War of the Blight and the last of the wizards who had given it their allegiance have been dead for nearly as long. I cannot understand how such a script could exist on a tower such as this one. Either the tower is far older and more resilient than it appears or there is a mage somewhere around here who still serves Boranea. At any rate, the legend above the door reads: `Seek ye not the key in the tower, for it opens a door best left closed. Listen now all you who come arrogant in your power, turn away while your life's blood still flows.' Then follows a rune which if spoken aloud will open the door."

"We have come too far to turn back at this juncture, can you decipher the last rune," Enki asked.

"Aye, I can, if we are all agreed. But just because we agreed that this is the most likely path doesn't mean it is the correct one. Perhaps we should ascertain a little more about the other door before we continue...." Seeing no objections from the others, Ordolf led the others over to the doorway in the sand which had been spotted by Wolf.

Neun Ja began to treat the second door as she had its counterpart in the tower wall. As she ran her hand over the outlines of the door, their was a abrupt soundless explosion which whelmed the sorceress and sent her stunned body tumbling until it came to a rest ten feet away.

"NONE MAY PASS WITHOUT THE KEY OF TOWER," announced a vibrant yet somehow hollow voice.

Neun Ja sat up with a groan at the end of the strange pronouncement.

"Are you alright?" asked Wolf who had rushed over to her fallen body.

The sorceress nodded and said, "There is no handle on this side of this door. I found a lock of some kind, but it was when I investigated the keyhole that I was struck down. I do not think that we can pass this portal without the key that it requires. There may be another door elsewhere, but this one is currently impassable. Perhaps, my friends, we should seek the key in the tower that the legend on the wall mentions for I believe it might prove far less deleterious to my overall well-being."

Enki smiled and nodded, "It seems the most likely course. Let us return to the tower door Ordolf, and then if you would please, read the last rune and let us enter the spire."

The mage nodded and walked back to the first doorway that they had discovered. "Chornyi smert," said the necromancer.

The door swung out noiselessly from the wall of the tower and nearly struck Ordolf before he nimbly jumped back. The interior was as black as a demon's heart. The light of day didn't seem any more able to penetrate the stygian darkness than oil penetrates water. The quartet of adventurers looked at one another irresolutely as if the were unsure that they really wanted to enter now that the way was open to them.

Gathering her courage and her wits once more about her, Enki turned to the two mages at her sides and murmured softly, "If one of you can provide some light, we may as well be about our business."

Before Enki had even finished stating her request, two pale balls of light sprang into being before Ordolf and Neun Ja. The shadow mage took the lead and the initiative and stepped into the depths of the tower. The blackness nearly swallowed her and her light as she entered, but it could not fully absorb the witchlight that she had created. Wolf followed on the sorceress' heels, then Enki swallowed and stepped forward as well, finally came Ordolf with the second of the balls of mage light.

The door swung shut behind the quartet of adventurers after Ordolf had entered. The light from the mage lights that Ordolf and Neun Ja had conjured, though dimmer than it should have been, was sufficient to light the inside of the tower well enough so that objects could at least be discerned. As the four seekers looked around, the saw that the interior of the tower was empty except for a narrow stairwell that led up. Hesitantly, Neun Ja began to ascend. The others climbed in her wake. The dark silence seemed somehow to grow more and more ominous and oppressive with each step that the quartet took. Nothing moved or made a noise, yet somehow a feeling of impending doom seemed to seep into the very hearts of the heroes. It became more and more difficult to gather the courage to mount the stairs.

As the strong sense of dread became more and more pervasive, Enki became less and less sure that she and her comrades had made the right choice, when she heard Ordolf mutter something behind her. There was a crackling hiss as if water had been thrown into a fire, and suddenly the weight of the building terror lifted as if it had never been.

"I have always disliked those spells of anxiety," the archmage muttered. "They don't seem sporting. Now, it should be a bit easier to continue."

When the quartet reached the head of the narrow stairwell, they encountered another door. Like the portal which led outside, there was no apparent means of opening the door. No handle broke the monotony of its surface. No keyhole manifested itself. But like the door in the outside wall of the edifice, there were runes over the door. These, however, were not hidden. They glowed with light of their own and provided Enki and her colleagues with a second warning, "You who read this have failed to heed my first caution. Here is a second: Powerful and magically potent, you stand where you are. Know this, your magic, though mighty, is a falling star. It shall fail you at your direst need as your death approaches on a winged steed."

When Ordolf had finished reading the proclamation of the tower for his colleagues, he continued, "There is another rune of opening. Shall I speak it aloud?"

Enki looked around at her colleagues for a consensus once more and nodded their silent assent to the archmage.

"Volshebstvaia ubitsa," intoned the mage.

Like the lower door, the entry at the head of the stairs swung wide at the archmage's utterance. This time though, the room beyond was lit by the light of the sun streaming through the huge openings that the party had seen on the top the tower from the sea. In the center of the room stood a carved marble pedestal which was surmounted by a black velvet cushion. On top of the cushion rested a small golden skeleton key which gleamed in the bright sunlight. Another item shone brilliantly from the rays of the sun: the burnished bronze statue of a enormous human warrior which stood next to the pedestal.

Neun Ja began to cautiously examine the door frame for traps. She probably should have done the same at the entry to the tower, but somehow it had seemed unnecessary and she always trusted her cha li-honed instincts in such matters. Seeing no impediments to continuing,entered the room. As she stepped beneath the lintel, two things occurred. First, the witch light which she had conjured, blinked out as if it had never been. Next, the sculpture seemed to subtly change.

Abruptly the martial figure's eyes opened and it stared straight at Neun Ja and spoke, "Leave this place," it said in ringing, sepulchral tones, "or die!" When it had finished, the strange golem began to more forward. Slowly at first, as if it had been motionless for too long, then with growing certainty, it raised its sword and shield into position for battle.

Neun Ja waved her hand at the monstrous figurine. Nothing happened. A look of surprise and consternation crossed the face of the sorceress. Clearly reality had not met with her expectations. Neun Ja looked at the advancing metal warrior and realized that if she didn't do something quickly she would be chopped into cat's meat. Deciding that her wisest choice lay in flight since her blades were still in their scabbards and her allies still hadn't entered the chamber, Neun Ja stepped back through the doorway. The bronze man instantly became inert once more.

The sorceress looked at he others, "What course of action shall we partake of now, most honored comrades. We seem to have encountered a rather formidable obstacle."

Enki scowled at the automaton that waited patiently inside the room as inert as when they first seen it. "What is it," she asked, "and what happened in there?"

"I believe that it is something that is often referred to as a golem or mechanical man," replied Neun Ja. "Perhaps the honorable Ordolf can confirm that. At any rate, the answer to your second question is one which I find disturbing. I attempted to slip into the shadows and my magic failed me. Such a thing has never happened to me before. I have failed to use my magic properly, yes. I have also found situations where no magic that I knew was of use. But never before have I ever tried to reach for my magic and found it sundered from me as if it had never been. Fortunately, I was able to retreat ere I had to face our friend in there without either spell or blade prepared."

Ordolf was nodding, "Indeed, it does appear to be a golem. If that is the case, fear not that your skills are transient, Neun Ja. Your magic's disappearance is an effect of the automaton in there. As part of the enchantment that energizes them, when moving, they generate a dampening field which sucks the mana out of their surrounding environs to power their actions. No magic works in their presence."

"I take it, then, that you can not kill it by magic from here," said Enki with a question in her voice. "Is it mortal? Can we slay it? Does it have any weaknesses or particular strengths. What are the dangers of confronting it? Do you know, Ordolf?"

"I have never encountered one personally, but according to the lore there are several things one should know about a golem," the mage replied. "First, they are devices created by a combination of alchemy and sorcery for a single purpose. That purpose is determined by the creator of the automaton and can be whatever he or she desires. Once set, however, the golem's purpose can not be changed and it will continue to strive toward that purpose until either the golem is destroyed or its reason for being no longer exists."

"Second, a golem can only act in fulfillment of its purpose. No other actions are possible, so the caster must be very careful and complete in the instructions which are given to the golem. Most casters choose either very complex sets of instructions that detail every conceivable situation that could arise or very simple ones like "kill anyone who enters this room" that ensure that the golem will treat all intruders in the same fashion. Both of these schemes leave open the possibility that a clever interloper can find away to evade the strictures that the golem represents."

"Third, golems can be slain, but they are extremely durable foes as their metallic nature might suggest. They wear their own suits of armor and they also have access to mana which repairs them as they are damaged. Blunt weapons tend to be more effective against these creations because dents do not trigger the repair mechanisms. Their metallic nature makes golems very slow, however, so very quick foes at least stand a reasonable chance of survival against them."

"That is, I believe, all I can tell you about golems, other than that they are much feared by the Society of Mages and that there is a reward for their destruction. So should you destroy this thing, you will be entitled to the bounty which is placed on its head. I can be of very little assistance. My spells will not affect it and, as you know, I have little skill with weapons."

His exposition finished, Ordolf lapsed into silence. His three companions looked at one another with consternation. They were faced with a foe which was not only dangerous, but which took away at nearly half of their strength by its very nature. Ordolf was neutralized and Neun Ja could not rely on her magical skills. For her, it was like fighting with blind or with an arm removed: possible but very different from what she knew. Worse still, their foe was very nearly indestructible. Still, if they were to continue on, the quartet had to face the golem that protected the key in the tower. They could, of course, turn back and wait for their comrades to return from the Isle of Mists and then enlist their aid. Or they could seek to find another entry to whatever lay beyond the doorway in the sand.

None of their options seemed particularly appealing. It seemed unlikely that there was another easily located entry to whatever lay beneath the surface of the island. While Derazha and Urki would add to their armed strength, there was little enough room for the three warriors that were already on Dead Key to fight their metallic foe. Reinforcements would only be of use if one of them fell and should that come to pass, Seremoreh would have little hope of defeating Iskandar anyway.

It seemed that facing the golem was their best choice, despite the obviously serious threat which it posed. Enki drew her falchion. Wolf unhitched his hammer. Neun Ja drew two long-knives from her harness. The warrior stepped wordlessly through the door and moved quickly to the right so her blade would not interfere with those of her comrades. Wolf followed and moved to the left, knowing that, with his normal grip in which he held his left hand high on the haft of his war hammer and his right at its base, this was the side from which he could most effectively operate. Neun held the center with her paired knives.

As soon as Enki had crossed over the threshold, the huge golem began to stir once more to life. Its implacable eyes stared emotionlessly at the trio as it slowly raised its sword and shield into position for battle and repeated its warning once more. It strode forward slowly like an avalanche beginning to build to dispose of the intruders into its domain.

Wolf blurred into action with a speed that was hard to credit in such a squat man. Striding forward with his right foot, the woodsman slid his left hand down the haft of his hammer and whipped its head toward the knee of their mechanical foe. The golem jerked its sword down to cover with astonishing speed, but the blade was not stout enough to fully turn the hammer's hurtling head. The blow glancingly struck home. The battle was joined, and first blood, or at least the first strike, belonged to the living.

Though they could count the first blow theirs, Enki and her comrades knew the battle was far from over. Wolf quickly slid his hand back up the helve of his hammer as he spun to his left and began to circle the foe as blackly muttered something not completely audible that began with the word damn and ended with the word slow. The two women had assumed similar stances and circled clockwise around the automaton as well.

All battles have their own characters, much as all people have theirs. This one quickly began to exhibit its unique nature. Occasionally, one or another of the adventurers would feint or try a quick offensive thrust as they circled probing for an opening. The adventurers did little damage but took no harm in return beyond the expenditure of energy. It was much like a pack of hounds harrying a cornered predator: lunging and nipping and trying desperately to avoid its rushes. The problem with such a scenario for the Seremorans was that in such a situation, though the outcome is certain if there are enough hounds, it is just as certain that some hounds will die and others be badly maimed. Eventually one would tire or make a misstep. It was only a matter of time.

Realizing their plight and judging that they could neither afford the losses, nor was it certain that they had enough `hounds' for the task, Enki decided to change the odds a little. "We must work together more fully than we are! While we are doing well enough now, one of us is bound to make a mistake or tire. We are human, it is not. It will win a battle of attrition. We must focus our attacks and cripple its ability to do us harm. Endeavor to strike its sword with your blows. If we can neutralize it, the better part of the automaton's offense will vanish. It will still have its strength, but without the edge. Wolf, you try to pound the blade askew. Your hammer does damage it will not repair. Neun Ja and I will try to keep its attention."

Darting in, Enki slashed at the golem's left foot and drew a parry from it. Neun Ja leapt in from the rear keeping it distracted split seconds before Wolf's hammer whelmed into the mechanical giant's sword elbow ere it could turn to meet his blow. All three were able to leap back out ere the automaton could counter. So the combat entered a new stage in its development, a more dangerous and decisive phase in which both risk and reward had grown.

Fast and furiously, the women whirled in and out, their weapons flashing in an exotic dance of death but doing little harm that wasn't immediately repaired by the golem's regenerative powers. And though they were skillful, the two heroines were not skillful enough to completely avoid the `caresses' of their alien dance partner. First, Neun Ja, then Enki felt the stinging bite of its blade. Enki, then Neun Ja, suffered the ungentle `nuzzle' of its brazen shield.

Though treated in a less than chivalrous fashion, the two decoys accomplished their purpose. Their dance partner's persistent, ungentlemanly attempts to do them ill, allowed their comrade to powerfully strike the golem over and over on its sword arm. Soon, the danger to Wolf's colleagues began to decrease as the automaton's right arm began to warp and deform. First, a blow from Wolf's hammer slammed into the golem's wrist and turned its sword to an odd, awkward angle. Moments later, Wolf struck again, this time once again near the mechanical man's elbow bending the whole arm even further outward. Another blow from above drove the arm downward at angle. Another and another, and the arm was bent so badly that it looked as warped as a contortionist working in a libertine's palace.

The golem silently continued to struggle, trying to whelm the adventurer's with its shield. It was too slow and ungainly for its efforts to meet with much success, however. The trio of adventurers easily evaded its futile swings. Neun Ja, realizing that their opponent was offenseless, darted in and grabbed the key. The mechanical man froze suddenly. The other two human combatants, seeing their foe's unanticipated immobilization, were at first wary that it was some sort of trick. After a moment, they, too, also disengaged, fearful that if they continued to pummel the golem, it might cause the automaton to somehow reactivate.

"I have the key!" the sorceress called. "I beg of you, honorable comrades, let us depart before the guardian revivifies!" So saying, the saffron-skinned shadow mage stepped out of the room with the key in her grasp. As she did so, the voice that the quartet had heard briefly a few moments before issuing from the door in the stand spoke once more in its hollow tones, "You have succeeded where others have failed. You may have the skills necessary to face the final guardian. Know this though you are mighty in battle and powerful in you magic, even these will do you little good in your final test. Turn back! Heed me and turn back ere you meet the dark man under the sands of death!"

As the final word of the strange pronouncement of doom was uttered, the golem made a strange noise almost like the sounding of a bell, and crumbled into dust at the feet of the two remaining adventurers. There was little left of their brazen foe, except a small red ruby which glittered atop the pile of metallic powder that gleamed dully in the sunlight which streamed through the windows of the tower's garret.

Ordolf, entering the room for the first time, reached down and procured the sparkling gem. With a happy grin the necromancer said, "Here is proof for the society that we have slain a golem, although my word would have undoubtedly been sufficient. If we present this at one of the guild houses, they will reward us well for what we have just done, and while I have little need for the lucre, it will be welcome nonetheless." Trailing off the archmage muttered, "I just wish I could remember what it was I heard about the guardian."

"I, too, wish you could recall that lore, for the more we know the better prepared we will be when we encounter it," said Enki. "But whether you remember or not, still we must face this dark man of which the warning spoke. Let us go and see if this key really unlocks the door below and let us hope that whoever set the wards in this place was overly pessimistic about our fate in the warning which we just heard. Come, let us be about our business."

As the quartet strode down the stairway, the impenetrability of the darkness which swathed the interior of the tower seemed somehow to have lightened although no new light shone through. The mage light which Ordolf carried was now the only source of light for the party, yet it seemed to illuminate the dark space more effectively than had the two with which they had entered.

As they strode once more into the sun, the quartet blinked at the glare. The quick adjustments between light and dark that they were being forced to make were hard on their eyes. They had yet another such shift yet to make. Stepping over to the door hidden in the shadowed sand, Neun Ja inserted the prize that they had won from the tower top into the keyhole which she had discovered earlier. It fit perfectly and the locked disengaged with a soft click. The door slowly sank down into the sand revealing another stairway which dwindled into yet another yawning expanse of stygian darkness. Neun Ja conjured another ball of witch fire and once more led the company into the unknown.

 

Chapter 16 (original edit)

Chapter XVI

Jerrod peered in anxiously at the beach on the Isle of Mists upon which his comrades were waging their life and death struggle with the pirates and their trollkin shaman. As he stared in, he could see coruscating arcs of energy discharge from two spells clashing. Squinting the young mage tried to discern just exactly what was going on on the beach as the remnant of the crew of Wavestrider tried to get her ready to sail once again.

Meanwhile, the last two pirate vessels had disengaged themselves from Wavestrider and were limping away from the Isle of Mists as fast as they could, apparently fearful that Jerrod would unleash another of the spells with which he and Berit had destroyed the other two buccaneer craft which had ill-advisedly assaulted Wavestrider, so the crew of the ilvan warship was able to work without fear of another assault. Their efforts were herculean, but so much damage had been done to the ilvan warship that it would be several minutes before she could get underway once more. Jerrod feared that that would not be soon enough as he watched the mana storm that was brewing on the beach build.

* * * * *

When the trollkin mage unleashed his spell at her and her comrades, it struck Brianna like a physical blow. She had never experienced such magical puissance before and she had barely gotten her shield up in time to prevent the deadly spell from consuming them. The ravening energies of the troll's spell still threatened their existence for they were near to overwhelming her own defensive buffer. As she struggled to fend off their impending doom, Brianna found herself wondering: how had a troll gotten so powerful and what was it doing here in the middle of the sea far away from any major land mass? It didn't really matter she supposed, and she would probably never know, she realized, because there was no possibility of her holding of the troll's magic for very long.

"At least we have some sort of surcease from the physical part of the battle," Brianna allowed to herself. "Although the way things look now, it might have been better had the pirate blades been the instruments of our demise. Then I could have used Heartbreaker to take a few more of the bastards with us." She glanced down at the enormous axe whose haft she held clutched in her blood-covered hands. "For now though, I had better concentrate on warding off the troll's magic for as long as I can. If there is one thing that Wolf has taught me over the years, it is that we make our own luck by working. Perhaps if I struggle long and hard enough, some sort of salvation will appear to save us. But, then again, perhaps not."

The strain of holding back the trolls spell was enormous. It was almost as if its magic was tinged with the direct intervention of a god. Brianna's sinews stretched taught and threatened to strain through her skin from he effort which the human shaman made. Sweat popped out and began to bead her forehead. Slowly she began to sink to her knees as if she was being forced down by some sort of enormous hand. And that was almost literally what it was. The troll's spell had enfolded Brianna's defensive spell like a man's hand cupping an egg. Pressure seemed to come almost equally from all side. More and more tightly, human cleric's defensive perimeter was being compressed.

Forced to her knees, her back slowly bending, Brianna struggled even more fiercely to resist. It was almost as if her physical struggle was some sort of a metaphor for the magical contest in which she and the troll engaged. If she could just stand up again. But the power of the troll's enchantment was forcing her inexorably downward. Her comrades were being forced down as well as Brianna's defensive screen was pushed back. She had to find something more to use to prop herself up. She was so tired though.

Looking deep inside herself, Brianna could feel that the well was dry. She had no more reserves. Soon, the troll's spell was going to crush her and her comrades. Their quest would fail. Seremoreh would fall to Iskandar and his hordes. She would never see Wolf again and he would undoubtedly be slain fighting the archlich. That would be her greatest regret, that she would never see her husband again. Never again to see his enormous, scarred hands gently tend to a bird's broken wing. Never again to hear the gentle caress of his warm, sibilant laughter. Never again to touch his oak-like thews as they enfolded her in his embrace. No! NO!!! She was not going to let that happen! She was not going to leave this life without seeing her husband one more! Fired once more by her love for Wolf, Brianna slowly straightened her back. Signs of strain now began to show themselves of the features of the troll mage. His enormous tendons began to arc and spasm. A tremendous scowl of strain furrowed his brow almost as if a plow had been drug across his broad features. Brianna continued to force her way upright.

First, she pulled her left leg in front of her so she knelt on one knee instead of two. Next, she put her left hand on her knee and began force her back upward as she struggled to straighten her back leg. Bit by bit she began to straighten it. Soon, she had her knee locked. Pushing, straining, Brianna fought to get her legs underneath her. With nearly superhuman determination, the human cleric fought back against the incredible power of the troll's spell. Finally, she was able to stand upright once more. Her spell had once again assumed its original shape. But she could force her advantage no further. The expansion of her defensive sphere dragged to a halt. Her love-driven strength had reached its limit. But she had reached an equilibrium. If she could just hold on for a little longer.....

Locked in a stalemate that stretched minute by minute for what seemed to be hours, the troll mage and the human cleric fought their silent duel. Then slowly, but relentlessly, the troll began to force Brianna down once again. The limits of her human body had been reached. As the troll's greater physical power began to tell Brianna's magical shield began to flicker as if it was about to fail. The temperature inside began to grow as the protections of the spell began to fail and energy from the troll's spell began to pry its way in.

Brianna strained to keep conscious for just a little longer. Fighting the blackness that threatened to sweep over her the shaman began to sway. Soon she was back on one knee again. Then two. Now, she could barely sit up. As the tide of insensibility rolled in over her, Brianna felt a curious lightness about her almost as if she had been given wings.

* * * * *

The remnants of the crew of ilfs finally had sails juryrigged well enough so Wavestrider could head in toward the beach. Jerrod stared in at the shore helplessly. He had barely enough energy to stand let alone intervene in the scene which was being played out on the sands of the Isle of Mists. His dismay grew as he looked in and saw Brianna being forced to her knees by the troll mage and its spell. Unlike his colleagues on the beach, Jerrod could see that the troll had some sort of magical focus or energy source which was hung around its neck. He could see the troll clutching whatever it was and feel the answering surge in the mana. Jerrod had never heard of such a thing. He had never even dreamed that it was possible. Now, his magical education received the lesson that not only was such a device possible, it existed and was being used against his friends and there appeared to be nothing that he could do about it.

Jerrod watched with horror as Wavestrider inched in toward the beach and the mass of pirates who surrounded his three friends. Brianna looked as if her back was about to break as the power of the troll's spell forced her and her companions ever closer to the ground. There must be something he could do. But what? something was nagging at the back of his mind. He just wished he had a device like that upon which the troll mage was relying.

"Perhaps....No, that would be a trifle too convenient," Jerrod muttered to himself. "But I may as well try. Nynaeve did say that their use was determined by the wearer, and our need is certainly great. I might as well try. Mayhap something good will come of it."

Jerrod reached into his pouch and pulled out the ring of adamant and platinum which the ilvan Lords of Rendor had made for him. Slipping it on, Jerrod felt a sudden surge of dizziness as if the entire mana pool around him had been briefly disrupted. Focusing his astral senses on his new ring, Jerrod tried to assense just exactly what had happened to it. It didn't appear to have done what he had hoped it might and become a focus for mana. Nor did it seem to be some sort of storage device from which he could pull mana at need. He did feel curiously well, though. It was almost as if he the energy that he had expended in the battle was being replaced. As he looked down at himself, he realized that the cuts and scratches that he had suffered as fought to prevent the fall of Wavestrider were healing and healing rapidly right before his very eyes. The ring was healing him! He stared amazedly as the worst of his wounds, a moderately deep gash on his left arm that he had inflicted upon himself as he had so inexpertly wielded Berit's sword, closed before his very eyes and disappeared without a trace.

The newly found bounce in his step made Jerrod even more anxious to get to the beach, but Wavestrider was still too distant for him to do anything which would affect those on the beach. He could try a summoning, but that would take too long. If they could just get a few dozen strides closer, perhaps he could cast a fireball. It didn't look like Brianna could last that long though. Her faced was nearly pressed to the sand by the tremendous pressure of the spell against which she struggled. Abruptly, the human cleric began to rise as if she had found some source of inner strength. Inch by inch, she straightened her body and drove herself to stand. Jerrod watched with growing delight as his friend forced herself to one knee and finally surged all the way upright. Her new found strength took her no further, though, and she and the troll were once again locked in a stalemate.

Just a few more strides toward the island and he could hit the beach with a fireball. Suddenly, there was a loud crack as the juryrigging of the sail that was propelling them toward shore ripped free with a loud crack. Wavestrider's forward progress ground to halt. Jerrod looked back frantically at Frothbreaker and screamed. "I need to get closer! How long before you can repair the damage?"

Frothbreaker looked around at his ship and sighed, "Perhaps never, but we should be able to rig something that can get us moving again in about fifteen minutes."

"I warrant that we do not have that much time. I misdoubt but that Brianna will fall ere fifteen minutes is up," the young mage called back. "Is there nothing you can do that will speed the mending?"

The ilvan captain merely shook his head as continued to shout instructions to direct his crew in their efforts.

"Then lower me over the side in one of the boats. I have to get closer quickly," Jerrod bellowed.

Nodding, Frothbreaker bid two of his more hale crew members to do as Jerrod had requested. Soon a boat was in the water with Jerrod anxiously peering in toward the battle on the beach as the two ilfs struggled to row the dory into shore. Slowly, they pushed themselves through the outgoing tide and crawled toward the still too distant shore.

Finally, the boat had come within the range from which Jerrod could cast his spell. Standing in the prow of the boat as it continue toward the shore Jerrod began his incantation. Focusing his will he began to call the mana, when a wave unexpectedly slammed into to the side of the dory and nearly pitched him into the sea. His concentration broken, Jerrod had to regroup and begin to gather together once more the broken shards of his concentration as he looked in toward the beach to see what was happening there. Things had gone from bad to worse. Brianna was once more sinking toward the sand. This time she was crumpling far faster than she had before, and as Jerrod watched her accelerating collapse he knew that his time had run out if he was to save his comrades.

Flinging caution to the wind, Jerrod straightened and made a quick, arcane motion with his hand despite the lurching of platform upon which he stood. Desperately, the mage raced through his incantation and having gathered the mana and shaped it to his will he hurled a tremendous fireball toward the sandy beach.

Streaking toward the unsuspecting pirates like a falling star hurtling through the heavens, the ball of flame sped toward its target. It arrived and struck the troll mage at the very instant that Brianna fell senseless to the sand. A white-hot flash of incandescence flared into existence where the troll had stood only moments before. Concentrating all its energy and power on its battle with the human shaman, the troll had not realized that a magical assault was coming toward it from another direction. It had no shields, no defenses of any sort prepared. When the fireball struck the troll it was killed instantly as it was turned into a living torch. The pirates around it also burst into flames. The three heroes were less affected, having been protected to some extent by the last fragments of Brianna's defensive shield, but even Urki and Derazha were knocked into oblivion as the shock wave from the tremendous blast struck them. The two survivors of the battle of the beach at the Isle of Mists fell to earth as if poleaxed.

The screams of the maimed and dying pirates rose piercingly from the shore and Jerrod knew that he had done all that he could. He feared the worst though. Had Brianna fallen ere his spell arrived or had she lasted just long enough? Had he slain his friends as well as his foes? Only time and the trip into shore would tell. He waited anxiously as the ilfs forced the launch through the waves toward the shore.

They arrived to a scene of incredible carnage. Scores of burnt or dismembered bodies littered the beach. It was eerily silent on the strand of the Isle Mists. The screaming of the injured had stopped completely only minutes before as the last of the victims of Jerrod's fireball had succumbed to the scythe of Thanatos while the mage and his two escorts plied the waves toward the beach. The battle had apparently driven off the local wildlife as well for even the jungle was silent. That made it easy for Jerrod to notice when his comrades began to stir.

Urki was the first of the insensate adventurers ashore to revive. As the prow of the boat finally struck the sand of the beach, Urki groaned and rose tentatively to a sitting position. The warrior looked around at the corpses all around without comprehension, apparently still dazed from the concussion from Jerrod's exploding ball of flame. He shook his head as if he couldn't quite fathom where the noise was coming from as Jerrod called out to him after seeing him stir. Looking around frenziedly as if fearing another assault, Urki finally caught sight of Jerrod and his two ilvan sidekicks in the boat that had just grounded. The sight of Jerrod seemed to sweep the cobwebs from the young warrior's mind and a broad grin made an appearance on the face of the warrior twin.

"You won? Jerrod, you won! Thank the gods and all patrons of fools and idiots, we all survived," Urki crowed. "It looks as if we owe you our lives, or," looking around and seeing the prone and singed bodies of Derazha and Brianna, Urki briefly looked somber amended himself, "at least I do. You've come a long way since when we met. You have my gratitude."

It was at that moment that Derazha began to stir. Snarling a battle cry, the half troll sat suddenly upright with her claws bared and looked wildly about for enemies. Seeing that there was not even a single foe still alive on the beach, the half-ilf relaxed and grasped her aching head with both hands, as she looked over at Jerrod and, grinning her fearsome grin, said, "It was about time! I thought you would never get here, mage! Next time try to make it ere we fall."

The huge half-breed looked over to where Brianna remained motionless. "Is she alright? Has anyone checked on her? Without her efforts we surely would have fallen, and I, for one, do not look forward to telling Wolf that his wife was slain while we sat around and watched helplessly."

Derazha delicately prodded the shaman with her index finger. There was no response. Gently, she took the unconscious human's hand in hers and felt for the thread of a pulse. Moments stretched to minutes before Derazha looked up from the comatose cleric and said, "She's alive, but barely. At first I couldn't detect a pulse, but it's there, faint and irregular, but there none the less. I have no skill at healing. Can either of you do anything for her? What about you, Jerrod, can your magecraft be of any assistance here?"

Jerrod shook his head glumly, "I know nothing of healing. The magic I have learned is not suited to such pursuits. About all I can manage is to keep her warm and perhaps a little more comfortable."

Urki frowned and said, "I can perform battlefield first aid, but that is all. After I bind her wounds, I will be lost as to how to proceed. If we get her back to Wavestrider, perhaps Berit can do something. At least she is still alive and so are the rest of us. Or are we? How bad are the casualties aboard Wavestrider. It looks as if it was struck by a hurricane. Berit is hurt, is she not? Otherwise, I deem that she would have accompanied you, wouldn't she, Jerrod"

The mage nodded and replied. "It is bad aboard Wavestrider, but not so bad as it might be. Both Berit and Frothbreaker survive and will continue to do so, although Berit is unconscious and Frothbreaker lightly wounded. Things went very well indeed or I fear we all would have been lost."

Jerrod and Urki did what they could for Brianna, and then the young warrior called to the two ilvan sailors who were gawping at the extraordinary number of dead who littered the beach. "Come over here, please. We have a task for you to perform."

As Urki was explaining to the ilfs that he wanted them to take the comatose Brianna back to the ship and then return to shore with a burial party for both the ilfs and the pirates, Jerrod went over and looked at their fallen enemies. The pirates were nothing unusual as far as Jerrod could discern. They looked for the most part like what he expected. Perhaps they were in better health than he might have envisioned them to be, and perhaps they were better provisioned as well, but on the whole they were not particularly special. The remnants of the trollkin mage on the other hand, were.

Jerrod had never before seen the results of a spell which he had cast which had slain so many people before. Technically, he supposed, all of the pirates whom he had chopped down aboard Wavestrider were the victims of his magic, but it seemed somehow different to see a beach littered with burnt and disfigured corpses from a spell of mass destruction which he had cast. The mage felt somehow soiled by the deaths of so many -- even if they were foes. It seemed wrong somehow to kill beings who weren't trying to slay him and who never even knew that their existence was threatened. Jerrod knew that his qualms didn't really make all that much sense since the victims of his fireball had been trying to slay his friends, just as the pirates aboard the ship he had burnt had been trying to slay him and sink Wavestrider, but knowing that his feelings were irrational didn't make them go away. These men might have had families. Somehow, it didn't seem likely that many would given their choice of lifestyles, but they certainly had friends and people who cared for and about them and who would be bereft without them. Those people were his victims just as much as these and perhaps some of them were even innocents. Still, these men had chosen the lives that led them to their deaths, so ultimately, Jerrod realized, their deaths were their responsibility.

Not completely satisfied with his rationalization, Jerrod sighed and looked around for the remnants of the troll while he struggled with his feelings of guilt. Strangely, the troll seemed to have disappeared. Jerrod knew that he was looking in the right spot, because the troll had been no more than fifteen feet directly seaward from Brianna as the struggle that they had waged had unfolded. All traces of the enemy's wizard seemed to have disappeared though. The pirates who had stood around the trollkin spellcaster were all there as far as Jerrod could tell. They were charred so badly that Jerrod was sure that not even the mothers would know them, but they were there. The troll seemed to have disappeared without a trace. No body, no body parts, not even a bone or a tooth remained. Jerrod had never heard of such a thing before. Fireballs killed and killed horribly, in some cases they even incinerated the flesh of their target, but they didn't destroy bodies completely. It puzzled Jerrod.

As he sifted with his toe through the sand where the troll mage had stood, Jerrod's buskin unearthed something that shone dully. It appeared to be a fine chain of some sort, almost like that from which a pendant would normally dangle. Looking at his find more carefully, Jerrod realized that that was in fact exactly what he had found: the chain for a pendant. The chain had suffered from his magic though. Golden, like the chains of the pendants which had adorned the other two slain trolls that Jerrod had examined, this chain lacked the crystal that had been the showpiece of those.

No, that was wrong, Jerrod saw as he looked even more closely. There was a crystal, or least the remnants of one. It was bent and twisted and it was no more than a jagged stump compared to the others that he had seen. Its setting seemed to have born the brunt of the heat from Jerrod's spell. That was strange for the fireball had struck the trollkin shaman from behind, so it should have been the chain that melted, not the setting. Even without taking into account that gold was far more vulnerable to heat than most crystals, it was still hard for the young mage to fathom. Even more curiously, the crystal and its setting must have been in front and should have been shielded by the troll's body. Inexplicable.

"It doesn't really matter I suppose," Jerrod thought to himself. "The troll is dead and we don't have to worry about it any more. Now, we need to find the Sword which caused the deaths of all of these beings."

Stepping back over to where Derazha stood, Jerrod smiled tentatively at his colleague and said, "Do you think Urki will want to seek the Sword now or do you think he will wish to wait until Brianna, or at least Berit, is ready to go with us?"

"Why don't we let him answer that question? Here he comes," the half-ilf replied pointing toward the waterline where Urki had finished his instructions and helped the sailors push the dory with the still, almost lifeless body of Brianna out into the sea in preparation for their trip back to Wavestrider. Urki had turned around and was now striding back toward Derazha and Jerrod with his head bowed in thought.

When Urki arrived at where the other two adventurers were standing, the young warrior shook his head and looked up. "It seems that our task now devolves on the three of us. Brianna is unconscious and may not live out the day, so she certainly can not help us any more in the acquisition of the Sword. Waiting for Berit might prove feasible, but Jerrod here says that she is unconscious as well, and, while she will recover if Jerrod's diagnosis is correct, we have no idea when. We could wait for her, but there are still two pirate ships out there that escaped from us, and who knows but that they may have more friends waiting nearby. The sooner we get the Sword and get out of here, the sooner we will be free of worries about an ambush from them, so I think we should seek the Sword ourselves."

"Jerrod," Urki continued, "Brianna said that she could sense magic somewhere off in the jungle when we arrived, but that it was shielded. She didn't have time to tell me any more...if there was any more that she had discerned. Can you detect the magical source that she mentioned and, if so, can you give me some sort of direction to go to get to it? Or perhaps, tell me something more about what the source of the magical presence is?"

Jerrod nodded and began to concentrate. Focussing his spirit, he sent his astral self off in search of the magical resonance that Brianna had detected. Soaring over the jungle through mist which enshrouded the island, Jerrod's ethereal presence sped deeper into the rain forest. It wasn't long before a faint trace of magic manifested itself to him. It seemed to be coming from a cave or a tunnel of sort. The dark maw of the underground passage marred an otherwise verdant hummock in the midst of a boggy marsh near the center of the island. For some reason, Jerrod's astral vision could not penetrate the surface of the knoll despite his most fervid efforts. It was almost as if the place was intentionally shielded from prying eyes. One thing that he could tell though, was how to get to the site of the disruption in the mana field. It was quite simple really, all he and his companions had to do was follow the path that led away from the beach.

Returning his awareness to his body, Jerrod informed his comrades of his discoveries. Urki nodded and said, "I thought as much. Well, one can always hope. Alright, let's go investigate this mound you found, Jerrod. I hope after all this," the warrior swept his arm to take in the corpse-covered beach and the semi-derelict husk of Wavestrider where the crew continued to struggle with repairs, "that our trip was not in vain."

As the trio trudged through the jungle, the trail sloped gently upward and quickly led them into the hanging mists which gave the island its name. As their field of vision decreased, the silence that had marked the aftermath of the battle on the beach lifted. One by one, the eerie noises of the rain forest began to resume. Jerrod had never been in such a climate before and some of the strange wails and groans which rent the murk disturbed him. What sorts of beasts made such unearthly sounds? Were they signals of some sort from one guardian of the Sword to another and were he and his friends walking into an ambush? Or were they merely the novel sounds of as yet unknown, but harmless denizens of the forest?"

Shuddering, Jerrod decided that he had better trust Urki, although recalling just what Urki and his sister had stumbled upon in the warrior's tale about the Spider queen did little to calm Jerrod's uneasiness. He had no better choice as to a course of action, and it seemed safer to stay with the two warriors than to run back to the beach alone.

The trip through the jungle and the subsequent marsh was shrouded in mist and filled with strange and unearthly sounds. Despite the fact that no foe appeared out of the mist, the members of the trio of heroes were kept on their guard by the incessant rustlings in the bushes just out of their sight. Caterwauls and shrieks rent the foggy evening air with blood-chilling effect. Still nothing happened. To Jerrod's mind, it was almost as if the rain forest was calling out a warning to the three remaining adventurers, a warning that they were headed into danger so dreadful that the fierce predators of the jungle were harmless in comparison.

Night began to fall and the pale light that penetrated the mists of the island began to dim despite the newly risen full moon. Jerrod quickly focussed his will and with a gesture conjured a ball of faerie light to illuminate the path for the mage and his companions. Soon they arrived at the opening which Jerrod had espied with his astral vision. Strangely, as they entered the immediate vicinity of the grotto, the jungle grew quiet almost as if it were holding its breath. No creature stirred. Not even the rustling of rat disturbed the silence of the murky night.

Jerrod cleared his throat, "Uhhhmm, are you certain you don't think it would be more prudent to wait until morning, Urki? It seems rather foolhardy to me to enter what looks like a burial mound in the middle of the night on an enchanted island. I'm sure if you consider the situation again for a moment, you will see that I'm right."

"Foolhardy or no, we go in now," Urki growled irritated by Jerrod's return to the pomposity of the days when the two of them had first met. "Jerrod, trust me when I say that sometimes we warriors actually do know what we are about. I know it may not seem like that is true to one with so much learned erudition and vast experience at his command as yourself, but trust me, if we wait we will be in far more certain danger than we are if we enter the cave at his moment. If you can not find the courage to follow Derazha and myself, then I will drag you with us for we need the light which your spell sheds. So come along."

Stung by Urki's rebuke, Jerrod flushed with anger and embarrassment. It was a sign of how much Jerrod had matured from that time of a few hands of five-days ago, that Jerrod held both his tongue and his spells in check. Instead, the young mage merely looked levelly at Urki for a moment and then nodded.

For his part, Urki realized that he may have overreacted a trifle, and gave Jerrod a gentle slap on the shoulder as he said, "Good! Glad to have you with us. I wouldn't want to face what lies ahead without you. Let's go." The warrior drew his falchion and strode forward toward whatever awaited them inside.

 

Chapter 15 (Original edit)

CHAPTER XV

Slowly a smile crept over the features of the blonde woman, she turned back to the captain and began to ask what appeared to be questions as she gesticulated over toward where Enki and her colleagues stood. The Captain nodded vigorously as she spoke, giving brief answers whenever the interrogation demanded it, and, when she had finished quizzing him, spun on his heels and began to hurry back up the gangplank. Coming back aboard his little schooner, the smuggler scurried over to Enki and the others and said, "I beg your pardon, your honors, but that lady down there, she wants to hire you!"

"What do you mean she wants to hire us? Who is she? Why does she want to hire us? What was it you told her down there?" Enki asked frowning suspiciously. "I thought you were working for Lord Springbuck and Rendor."

"SHHhhh! Not so loudly, I beseech you. Someone might overhear!" shuddered the Captain. "I am working for the good Lord of Rendor. That is why I told her exactly what he told me about the four of you: that you were mercenaries who sought employment on the ships of Barabel. She seemed pleased to hear that and said that she had `something interesting in mind for you' and that I should send you down to speak with her. And you had better go quickly! She is called Miranda, and she is one of the seven Captains of Barabel! They rule here as much as anyone can and they tolerate no one who flouts even the least of their whims!"

Glancing toward her companions, Enki surveyed them for their reactions. Wolf and Neun Ja both nodded. Ordolf shook his head. "First, I have a question. Where does she stand among these Captains of Barabel? Is she one of the most powerful or the least? Is she likely to be involved in schemes of import or is she more apt to be docile or perhaps prone to dangerous adventures?"

"Sir, I couldn't tell you exactly, not being privy to goings on between the seven captains, if you take my meaning," replied the Rendorian agent. "But by all appearances is she is one of the most powerful. In the top two or three at least. Perhaps Quarrel or Captain Pike might be her match, but I doubt that any of the others would want to test her mettle. They say she has been around here for over fifteen years and hasn't aged a day. I don't know myself, but she doesn't look a day over seventeen to me."

"Well, let's go and see what she has to say. Lead on, captain. Perhaps her offer might be of interest to us," said the mage airily.

As the smuggler moved off toward the gangway, Ordolf leaned toward Enki and whispered, "Be careful, this Miranda is a necromancer, and although I don't recognize her as she is right now, she is a powerful one, and one who has no qualms about using the darker side of the art. Ordolf shuddered with revulsion. "She is a body-snatcher, a ghoul, call it whatever you like, she steals bodies from others and then murders or enslaves their spirits." One further word of warning, though I don't recognize her, she might well recognize me. I am well known among my colleagues, good and bad. As I said, she has no trepidations about delving into the blacker mysteries of our art, and that may mean she will view me as an enemy."

The quartet of heroes disembarked in the wake of the Rendorian smuggler/spy. As they walked toward Miranda, she caught sight of Ordolf and a wicked gleam came into her eyes. As the adventurers approached, the black mage smiled knowingly and said, "How the mighty have fallen! Ordolf, don't tell me. You have fallen on hard times and now seek employment as a mercenary-for-hire. Are things really so bad for one who has been called the greatest necromancer of our day?!"

Ordolf frowned and replied, "I'd know that tone anywhere. So you are calling yourself Miranda now. When last we saw each other you went by the name of Reese and were a man. I don't believe you could pass as a male now. What are you doing here?"

Miranda chuckled, but her laugh held little mirth as she ignored Ordolf's question. "Perhaps you are here for a different reason than that which I suggested. If I know you at all, and I think I do, you are here for some purpose other than that which you profess. Possibly your arrival has to do with the lich stirring on Seremoreh? Well, no matter, I can keep a better eye on you and you friends if I hire you. Mercenaries for hire, indeed!"

Ordolf looked at his fellow necromancer levelly and replied, "So you know about Iskandar, do you Reese? As a matter of fact my departure does have to do with his revivification. Seremoreh is no longer safe. Trolls are running about, the climate has grown frigid, and it has become a generally unpleasant place to inhabit. And while a few trolls are little more than an inconvenience, I thought I would leave and establish myself in a more hospitable land ere I was forced to flee, for even I fear a demigod."

Miranda snickered maliciously, "I always knew you were a coward, though you pretended otherwise. Not so virtuous anymore are you? Well, if you fear serving a dark god, perhaps you would be willing to take service with me. I like the irony of that. Who are these three that you have brought with you? Bodyguards? Or perhaps these two lovelies are something a bit more delectable than mere bodyguards. Bedwarmers perhaps?" The evil mage licked her lips lasciviously as she leered at Enki and Neun Ja.

Enki's blade flashed out in the blink of an eye, and before anyone could move its tip was at Miranda's throat. "Hardly that," she smiled. "At least not in the way you mean it. I have always preferred impaling others to being impaled and I don't think that that is likely to change in the near future. Now if you have a offer of employment to make to us, either make it or let us find someone who will."

Miranda motioned her bodyguards back. "Well, well, what is this, Ordolf? Your doxy seems to have a bite of her own. Or perhaps I have the relationship wrong and you are her strumpet rather than she yours?"

Ordolf merely smiled as Enki continued to speak for all of them. "Still don't get it, eh, Miranda. None of us serves the other. We are as you were told, mercenaries for hire. Extraordinarily talented ones, I will admit, but that should make us all the more desirable to whoever employs us. Now either make an offer or get out of the way," sneered the young warrior as resheathed her sword.

Miranda dabbed at the drop of blood which welled from here throat where Enki's blade had caressed it. She chuckled and said, "Extraordinary, indeed. And yes, your skills do seem enticing. I think I will let you enter my service. I will pay you whatever you wish within reason," she said as she turned toward her sedan. "Come to my villa and speak with Naroda. She will give you the particulars of what I require from you."

The necromancer took a step toward her waiting conveyance, then turned back and looked Enki in the eye. "Don't ever threaten me again," Miranda said coldly. "Should you ignore my warning, I will make sure that you don't survive to do so again."

Without another word or even a backward glance, Miranda walked over to her chair and stepped inside. With a signal, she ordered her monstrous bearers into motion as her major domo once more closed the curtains. The sound of tinkling laughter could be heard as she and her party moved off.

Raising an eyebrow, Wolf pitched his voice so that no one but he and his comrades could hear, "Well, that was interesting. What shall we do for an encore? Kill the seven captains? Now, do we take her offer or do we turn to someone else?"

Ordolf shook his head and said in the same sort of undertone, "I don't know. Whatever we do, we had better keep it in mind that she knows who I am, she has some idea of what is happening in Seremoreh, she is a black necromancer of great skill, and she is a power here in Barabel. Given all of that, I think we might be wise to tread softly when we are around her. Perhaps for now though, we would be better off if we continued this conversation somewhere a little more private than a dock full of strangers. Why don't we go to an inn or a tavern and ruminate on our options a bit while we get some supper. I have grown a trifle weary of the fare that we were served on the way here. Perhaps we can find something a bit more tasty nearby."

So saying, the archmage started to walk briskly up the pier toward the town itself. The other three from Seremoreh had little choice but to follow him. Ignoring the cacophony of noise amid which they passed, the quartet hurried through the barkers who beseeched them to buy their wares. There was one fellow who was particularly insistent. Usually, the hawkers would give up after two or three rejections from each of the foursome. This particular gadfly seemed determined to get them to engage his services and refused to give up. Scurrying from one of the heroes to another, he was slim almost to the point of skinniness and had the air of a ne'er-do-well about him. Middle-aged, of average height, and with long, lank hair that was darkly-oiled and loosely curled, the huckster offered what seemed to be an endless variety of services. He was the best guide in town. He knew where to find the best girls or boys whatever madam or sir required. He could provide directions to the best hostelry in Barabel. He had trinkets and souvenirs of all descriptions. Whatever was required he could provide it, "just be so kind as to name it, good master."

Despite the fact that each of the adventurers was completely ignoring him, he continued to nip at their heels even after they left the pier and began to walk the city's streets. Apparently the rascal had decided that the quartet from Seremoreh offered him his best opportunity for profit for this day, and he was determined to realize that potential. Finally, growing weary of his incessant patter, Enki whirled on him and lifted the wretch by the collar with her right hand.

"Leave off, you simpleton. Can't you see we are not interested in you or your wares? Do I have to slit your gullet to get you to shut up?!" she said as she drew her dagger in her left hand.

Seeing no response beyond the look of abject terror which washed over the features of the scallywag who she held swaying in the air, Enki prodded him, "Well?! Have you nothing to say for yourself, you ignoramus. You had more than enough to say a moment ago!"

"Y-Y-You t-t-t-told me t-too sh-sh-shut up, mistress! I wouldn't w-want to up-up-upset you!" stammered the erstwhile city guide ignoring the incongruity of his own statement. "I just thought that you might want someone to help you find whatever it is you need here in Barabel. It's a big city and no one knows it like I do. There is no task or service which I can not provide or at least find someone who can. Whatever you need to know I can tell you from where to find the best tavern to how to get to the villa of Miranda!"

Seeing a fleeting glimpse of interest at that last pass over Enki's face, the huckster seized the opportunity with vigor. "Ahhh, I see that that last interests you. Yes, I saw you talking to her. Be careful for she is as hard as granite and meaner than a rabid dog. Don't cross her or she will never rest until she has her revenge. And with as much power as she has, never fear, she will get it. But I can tell you what you need to survive the intrigues of her as well as the rest of the Seven Captains. For the modest price of only one gold piece a day I will be your right hand man for as long as you need my services."

"What!?! A gold piece! Are you mad! I wouldn't pay you more than a silver penny!"

Knowing that he had trapped his quarry, the fellow continued, "Ahhh, but mistress, should you pay someone only silver penny for what they know, why you would get knowledge that was worth exactly what you paid for it. But I am not an unreasonable man, and besides, I like you. So if you would put my feet back on the ground and loosen your grip on my throat so I can start breathing again, I am sure we can come to some sort of mutually satisfactory arrangement."

As Enki lowered the barker back to the ground, Wolf called out from dozens of strides ahead, "If you are through playing with your new-found playmate, Enki, we had better find a tavern before Ordolf explodes."

"There I can be of service, mistress." Enki's newly found hireling interjected. "I know a fine, quiet place where you and your friends can plot to your heart's content it is something of a national pastime here. The food is good, the rates are reasonable, and, although nowhere on the island is completely secure, the booths are as private as anywhere in Barabel. If you would like, I will take you and your colleagues there with no charge attached as a sample of the quality of the services which I can provide for you. It is no more than a five minute walk."

Enki grudgingly nodded her agreement and called to the others, "Alright, this fellow seems to think he has the perfect place in mind. If none of you objects we'll follow.....er, what's your name?"

"Matthias," replied the huckster.

"We'll follow Matthias to the tavern that he recommends. If it turns out to be someplace where we all feel comfortable, perhaps we'll engage his services," the warrior finished.

With a smile that could almost have been mistaken for a smirk, Matthias bowed and said "If you will follow me...," then turned and began striding in the direction which Ordolf had been leading the group before Enki's impromptu hiring interview for the a slim hawker began. Matthias continued to chatter at the quartet of visitors to Barabel. It seemed that he just couldn't keep himself from delivering his sales spiel even when he had already made a bargain. An unending torrent of the possibilities which his services offered spewed forth from Matthias' mouth like flame from the maw of a drake. Most of what their newly found servant offered was outlandish if not impossible, but as Enki listened, she realized that Matthias really was a wealth of information about Barabel and its environs, and if she and her companions could just keep the rascal from robbing them blind, he might prove to be invaluable in their quest.

As it turned out, the inn that had commissioned Matthias to hustle up customers for it was both nearby and surprisingly good. Called Woody's, the place was spacious and served an eclectic mix of food which, through strange, was quite tasty. Matthias made some suggestions to the quartet of heroes as to what to order from the menu, and then, at a glare from Enki, moved off and left the adventurers in private. Sliding into a booth in a dark corner of the inn's common room, they began to discuss their situation.

Enki softly began the conversation. "Its seems that we have a few choices to make, my friends. We have an offer of employment from this Miranda. She is a necromancer who does not seem particularly scrupulous about the magic she employs and is a power here in Barabel. You and she don't seem too fond of one another, Ordolf, but despite that, or perhaps because of it, she hasn't yet determined to slay us. Can you tell us anything more about her or him that might help in our decision? You said that she is a bodystealer and was a man that last time the two of you met. Is there anything else which we should know about this Miranda or Reese or whatever she is called?"

Ordolf nodded. "Reese is an old adversary. He has always had animosity for me, believing I am falsely acknowledged as the greatest of the world's necromancers when in reality it is he who deserves that appellation. We've crossed paths and spells before and as you can see both of us are still alive. He is skilled in magecraft. While I believe that I am his better, we would do well, I deem, to tread carefully around him. I do not doubt that he will kill us should we offer him the opportunity and if he sees it as in his best interest."

Wolf growled, "Anyone who would keep those things in her service is without compunction of any sort. I would be very skeptical about entering any sort of bargain with such, for I do not doubt that a lie comes as easily to the lips of this Miranda/Reese as easily as swimming does to a fish and he/she will attempt to deceive us in whatever pact we may make with her/him. Faagh! I am just going to call it a her, this he/she nonsense is too cumbersome and we all know of whom we speak."

Neun Ja nodded, "Indeed we do, most honorable ranger. We speak of someone whom we know is dangerous, yet who seems to offer us opportunity. The question is: do we need this opportunity? Must we traffic with Miranda to accomplish our task? Or can, perhaps, our newly-met guide over there provide us with the sort of information that we need? And even if that is true, if we scorn this malefactor's offer of employment, what will be the consequences? Will she attempt to do us harm or force us into her service? Should she leave us alone, will our refusal of her proposition cause the other denizens of Barabel to spurn us or worse out of fear of her wrath? Or will it cause her rivals among the seven captains to seek our services for themselves? In any of these situations, will we be able to accomplish our task of at least finding out more about the weapon that lies hidden in this region and if possible locating and acquiring it? The dilemmas which we face are thorny indeed, and will require all of our wisdom to solve, if you will pardon my presumption for speaking so in such illustrious company."

Enki grinned lopsidedly. "You are every bit as illustrious as the rest of us, oh great shadow mage, else you would not be here with us. Seriously though, you do well to caution us and you equally well set out the problems with which we are faced. I doubt that this Miranda person would look with favor on our quest. While she might be interested in the Sword of Might, I rather doubt that she would view our plans for it as the ideal use to which to put so powerful an artifact. She might want it as a weapon or, worse, as a bargaining chip with which she can treat with Iskandar."

"That we can not allow to happen," rumbled Wolf. "Should such a turn of events befall it would be a catastrophe for Seremoreh and, indeed, the rest of Zemelia. Each of us knows why we are here and allowing the Sword or any of the other artifacts fall into the hands of someone like this Miranda would mean complete and utter failure in our mission. Before we accept her offer of employ or any other, I think we should call that Matthias fellow over and see if he knows anything about the weapon which we seek. If he does, his information can guide us further through this thorny maze of choices with which we are faced. If he does not, then we would have little choice other than to serve this foul ghoul or seek out another source of information in Barabel."

Ordolf nodded, "Aye, I think that Wolf has the right of it. Let us exhaust all the resources that we have at hand at present. If Matthias can provide us with further insight as to the location of the weapon we are seeking, let us by all means get him to do so. If he can not, I would not see any wisdom in serving Reese. Should his ire at our refusal of his employ cause him to seek vengeance, why, the other captains of Barabel can be no worse than he and might well be somewhat less noxious. So I say let us spurn his offer and let the chips fall where they may, we can only do better by refusing him than we could succumbing to his temptation."

"Hmmm, well, it certainly will do little harm to see what we can discern from Matthias. Should he prove to know naught of the Sword, we can discuss this further. I am not convinced that we can not outfox this Miranda/Reese should we accept her offer of employ. She might well be the best source of the information that we seek. She does know about Iskandar's awakening and so might know more about the whereabouts of the Sword and perhaps other of the items we seek. If so, we would do well to ferret out that information, and perhaps the only way to do that is to work with Miranda, however odious that prospect might be. First, though, before we walk down a path none of us really wishes to, let us see if it can be avoided. Matthias! Come over here!"

Their new retainer was at their table in an instant as if he had been listening to their conversation. "Yes, ma'am, how may I be of service?" he asked.

"Sit down. We have some questions we would like to ask you," Enki replied.

"Gladly, your worships. But first I really must insist that we come to a mutually agreeable fee for my services. While I think the world of each of you, and that in itself is remarkable on so short an acquaintance, even so enormous an affection my fondness for you can not pay my bills or those of my dependents. Before I go any further in your company, I must press you to commit to a fee for my aid."

Enki sighed. "Alright," she said as she withdrew a something from her purse that shone ruddily in the dim light. "You requested a gold piece for your services when we first met, I will pay you double that."

Matthias sat back as if stunned and wiped his brow. Never in his wildest dreams did he expect such beneficence. A gold piece was his most exorbitant bargaining position. He never, ever received even half so much. He had even worked for the silver penny which this mercenary had first offered him for his assistance. Slowly it began to dawn on him that for such munificent remuneration more might be expected of him than he was prepared to give.

"And for this generous commission, I will be expected to do....what exactly?" the erstwhile guide asked suspiciously.

"Nothing, but what you have already promised," Enki responded as she placed two gold sovereigns on the table top. "Ahh, ahh, ahh," the warrior said as Matthias reached for them. "you will be expected to serve us exclusively for as long as we require your services and you will need to take an oath to reveal nothing that you hear or see or learn in any other manner while you are in our presence to anyone but one of the four of us."

"I promise," the hawker said quickly as he reached for the two gold coins. Before his hand had even come near the money, Enki's dagger was out and between Matthias' palm and the coin.

"So eager! Not just yet. While we do not doubt that you are man of your word," Enki said sardonically, "we would like a little more binding of a pledge than that. My friend Ordolf here is a powerful mage and I think that he might have a more unequivocal means of assuring your loyalty -- say an oath which binds you life as its forfeit should you fail to provide the loyalty which we require of you. Now, if you do not object to that I think you can pick up the coins," Enki finished as she looked over toward Ordolf quizzically.

"Yes, indeed," said the necromancer as he made an arcane gesture with his left hand. Continuing in a stentorian tone that seemed somehow distant and yet filled with power, "Know though that by accepting our coin you pledge your troth to us and should you ever forswear that loyalty your life is forfeit, mine to do with as I choose."

Matthias shuddered realizing that his quarry for a few fast coins of profit had turned out to be something more than he had anticipated. Still, two gold pieces were more than he usually earned in a month and he was to be paid that much every day for as long as these four strangers stayed in Barabel. His greed overcoming his circumspection, the rogue grabbed the lucre and quickly pocketed it.

"I am at your service," he said with a bow as a jolt of electric energy arced through him. "How may I serve your honors?"

Enki looked at him levelly, "Tell us more about Miranda. Where does she stand here in Barabel? Would we do well to serve her or would we be better off to seek employment elsewhere?"

Matthias quailed a bit at the mention of the dark necromancer's name. "As I said before, I suspected you would want to know more about that one. I saw your byplay with her at the pier. That is part of why I sought your employ. Anyone connected with her for good or for ill must be rich or powerful. If they are not now, they soon will be. So, it is not a bad idea to grab on to their wagon and let them take you to riches and power as well."

"Yet, I fear direct involvement with her, for wealth and might don't come without price, and there is potentially great cost when one gets involved with Miranda. She has risen rapidly since her arrival here in Seremoreh. It has been fifteen years and she hasn't aged a day on her face, yet she has risen from refugee to Lord of Barabel. They say her enemies don't live long and when they die, they die strange and terrible deaths. Those who work for behave like lords, but there is none that is well known. They have a strange uniformity, even though they do not look alike, almost like they have no personality of their own. I think you would be wise to choose to avoid that one if you are not her ally and are able, your ladyship, although crossing her would be the worst mistake of your young life. While she is a danger to be involved with, she is a far worse one to anger. If you can avoid her offer do so, if she persists in her attentions, be coy when faced with her suit."

Enki nodded. "What about the others among the seven Captains of Barabel? How do they stand vis-a-vis Miranda. What about captains Pike and Quarrel? I have heard that they are Miranda's match. Is that not the case?"

Matthias shook his head, "Perhaps a month ago that would have been true, but now things are different here in Barabel. Miranda has been rapidly accreting power and wealth to herself. She has recently outfitted six new ships which sailed off on a mission of great import two fivedays ago. Now, none are so puissant as Miranda, not even the two whom you named. Oh, Quarrel might be able to match her ship for ship, and Pike might be have more wealth. But neither of them can match her gold piece for gold piece, ship for ship, and there may be no one in all of Zemelia who can match her spell for spell."

Enki, frowning as she listened to Matthias recount the potency of Miranda, smiled when she heard his appraisal her magical abilities, "Oh, I think there might be a mage or two who can match her spellcasting abilities. You would be surprised at the people such expertise shows up in. Tell me more about this mission Miranda sent her new squadron on: what was its goal? Do you know? If not, can you find out? We have a great deal of interest in anything unusual that has gone on in Barabel in recent fivedays."

Enki continued, "Since you are now in our service, we can, I think, tell you that we are not simple mercenaries. We have come to Barabel for a special reason of our own. While we would like to know what this Miranda is engaged in, more importantly, we seek information about a legendary weapon which is rumored to be somewhere in these isles. Do you know anything about such a thing?"

Matthias replied, "Let me answer your first question first. Miranda's ships did not go on a simple raiding mission. They went neither toward the Spice Coast nor toward the Rendorian Hegemony. They are supposed to have sailed southeast, a direction in which nothing lies for hundreds and hundreds of leagues except desert islands. Rumor has it that Miranda's flotilla sought an artifact of great potency which lay somewhere off in that direction. One thing I am certain of, though, is that there was a troll on board the flagship of Miranda's fleet. I know it was a troll because it had green skin and was even bigger than the mules which Miranda uses to haul her sedan chair around. It looked very uncomfortable in the heat when I first saw it and the monster grew even more agitated when it was around the water. Why such a being was aboard her ship, I do not know. I have never heard of a troll that willingly traversed water, nor do I have any idea why someone would wish to house one among humans. But it was aboard, that much I can tell you."

Matthias looked around at the grim faces of the adventurers who had employed him. "I do not tell you this to upset you. I just seek to give the information you require. As to whether or not I know of a weapon that is secreted hereabouts, well, there is whatever Miranda is seeking and there is an old tale that I have heard since I was a mere child. It tells of a powerful weapon which is guarded by a singular beast known as the Child of Night, which is neither man nor mortal. It is said the Child of Night is immune to magic and that its ferocity is so great that no man can ever slay it. I never heard any version of the tale of the black man in which the nature of the weapon was mentioned, but one variant had the location of the lair on an island known as Dead Key, an isle which is not too far to the northwest of here, certainly no more than a day or two by ship."

The quartet of heroes looked at one another. Wolf spoke, "It would seem that Miranda has heard the same legends that we have. This doesn't bode well for your brother, my wife and the others who sailed for the Isle of Mists. Six ships! Gods, three would be hard enough for them to overcome, but double that number? I fear we may see none of them again. I should never have let her go without me!" the ranger roared as he struck the table top a blow so resounding that the thick plank snapped like a twig.

Subsiding nearly as quickly as it had arisen, Wolf's tempered drained from his face, "Still, there is naught that we can do about it. So now this Miranda is a player in the search for the keys to Iskandar's chains. Faagh! An evil wight that one, should she succeed in acquiring any of the artifacts it will be bad for Zemelia! May the gods forfend, but there is the possibility that she may acquire all, should they defeat our comrades on the Isle of Mists. If her minions are going to the Isle of Mists, and there they slay Jerrod and take the Wand of Torvil, and finally if the blade on the Isle be the true Sword of Might, this Miranda will have two of the keys and we would have none. Should such be the case, we shall have to stay and slay this necromancer and seize the artifacts."

"There is a great deal of time ere we need to borrow that sorrow, my friend," Enki responded. "Though, like you, I fear greatly for the well-being of our loved ones, as you said, there is nothing that we can do about that at present. There may be something which we can do about the other artifact, however. Matthias, you said that one rumor had this weapon and its guardian on Dead Key. Is there any way to get there from here? I'm sure that there is no ferry service, but are their boats for hire, or is their another outpost of humanity between here and there where such are available?"

"As a matter of fact, milady," Matthias said with a smile, "my own brother has a fine little ship which, for a very reasonable price, I'm sure we can charter for such a trip. In fact, he will be back in port tomorrow and we can arrange for his services as soon as he arrives."

"I don't know. Can we trust him? After all there must be others who can do the job and do it now, not tomorrow?" Enki winked surreptitiously at the others from Seremoreh.

"I assure you, your eminence, there is no one else who could do the job so well. Quiet, confidential, my brother is the perfect man for the job," said Matthias quickly. "Perhaps we might find someone this afternoon. But I could not guarantee that they would breath no word about Barabel as to the nature of their commission. We still couldn't leave till tomorrow, even if found another ship at this very moment. Neither the tide nor the wind is right, nor will it be until tomorrow morn and again near tomorrow noon."

"I suppose we'll have to wait until tomorrow then, won't we my friends," Enki said as their food arrived. "for now though I think it is time to eat something a little more interesting than the ship's fare we have just finished living on for the past few days and which we will be forced to ingest over the next few. I hope Matthias' advice about this place -- and all else -- is sound. Else I'd say we'd wasted a lot of time and a lot of effort for very little gain."