‘We’re not close enough to Ylith for a band of pirates to have made it this far north undetected in the time since we left Yabon.’
‘Someone must have sent word south when I left the Northlands,’ said Gorath.
‘But how?’ asked Owyn. ‘You’ve told me you only spent a couple of days in Tyr-Sog, and you were riding until yesterday.’
‘That’s an odd question for a student of magic,’ observed Gorath.
Owyn blushed a little. ‘Oh.’
‘You’ve Spellweavers who can do such?’ asked Locklear.
‘Not such as the eledhel – those you call “elves” – call Spellweavers. But we have our practitioners of magic. And there are others of your race who will sell their arts.’
Owyn said, ‘I’ve never witnessed it, but I have heard of a talent called “mind speech” which allows a spell-caster to speak with another. And there’s something known as “dream speech” as well. Either—’
‘Someone really wants you dead, don’t they?’ observed Locklear, interrupting the boy.
‘Delekhan,’ said Gorath. ‘And he was gathering to his side any of my people who showed such talents. I know his goals, but not his plan. And if magic arts are part of it, I fear the results.’
Locklear said, ‘I understand that. I’ve had my share of encounters with people using magic who shouldn’t.’ He glanced at Owyn and said, ‘That blinding trick was quite good, lad.’
Looking embarrassed, Owyn said, ‘I thought it might help. I know a few spells like that, but nothing that would overpower an enemy. Still, I’ll try to help where I can.’
Glancing at Owyn, Locklear said, ‘I know. Let’s get to LaMut.’
LaMut stood astride the road south, requiring anyone travelling from Yabon to Ylith to pass through its gates or endure a long trek to the east through dangerous foothills.
The foulbourgh of the city sprawled in all directions, while the old walls of the city stood behind, nearly useless now, given the ease with which any attacker could mount the buildings next to them and gain the parapet from their roofs.
It was nearly sundown and all three travellers were tired, footsore, and hungry. ‘We can present ourselves to Earl Kasumi tomorrow.’
‘Why not now?’ asked Owyn. ‘I could use a meal and a bed.’
‘Because the garrison is up there,’ said Locklear, pointing at a distant fortress high above the city on a hillside, ‘and that would be another two hours’ walk, whereas a cheap inn is but one minute that way.’ He pointed at the gate.
‘Will your countrymen object to my presence?’ asked Gorath.
‘They would if they suspected your nature. If they think you an elf from Elvandar, they may only stare a little. Come on. We’ve looted enough gold for a night of relative comfort, and in the morning we’ll visit the Earl and see if he can get us safely to Krondor.’
They entered the city under the watchful gaze of otherwise bored-looking soldiers. One of them stood out from his companions, being shorter, and much more businesslike in his manner. Locklear smiled and nodded at the guards, but the three travellers didn’t stop or speak. A short distance inside the city gates sat an inn, marked by a wagon wheel painted bright blue. ‘There,’ said Locklear.
They entered the inn, busy, but not crowded, and moved to a table near the far wall. As they sat a stout young serving woman came, took their order for food and ale, and left. As they were waiting, Locklear spied a figure on the other side of the room staring at him.
It took a moment for Locklear to realize the figure wasn’t a man, but a dwarf. The dwarf stood and made his way across the room. He bore a large scar across his face, cutting through his left eye. He stood before them and said, ‘You don’t recognize me, do you, Locky?’
Locklear realized the last time he had seen the dwarf he had not borne the scar he now sported, but at hearing his name from the dwarf’s lips, he said, ‘Dubal! Without the eye-patch, it took me a moment.’
The dwarf moved to sit next to Owyn, across from Gorath. ‘I won this face in battle, from one of his kin—’ he pointed at Gorath ‘—and I’ll be a dragon’s mother before I hide it again.’
‘Dubal found me hiding in a cellar after the Battle of Sethanon,’ said Locklear.
‘Locked in there with a pretty wench, if memory serves.’ The dwarf laughed.
Locklear shrugged. ‘Well, that was by chance.’
Dubal said, ‘Now tell me, what is a seigneur of the Prince’s court doing sitting in LaMut with a moredhel warchief?’ He kept his voice low, but Owyn glanced around to see if anyone had overheard him.
‘You know me?’ asked Gorath.
‘I know your race, for you are the enemy of my blood, and I know your armour for what it is. A human might not notice, but we of the Grey Towers have fought your kind long enough I wouldn’t mistake you for one from Elvandar. It’s only your present company that keeps me from killing you here and now.’
Locklear held up his hand. ‘I would count it a kindness and a personal favour, as would Prince Arutha, should you imagine this person on my left to be an elf.’
‘I think I can manage. But you’ll have to come to the Grey Towers and tell me the story behind this mummery.’
‘If I can, I will,’ said Locklear. ‘Now, what brings you alone to LaMut?’
‘We’ve got problems at our mines and had a collapse. Some of us are stuck on this side of the Grey Towers and I came in to the city to buy some stores. I’ll hire a waggon and head back in the morning. For the time being, I’m content to sit and drink, and jabber with some of these Tsurani here in LaMut. I fought them during the war, and they’ve turned out to be a stalwart enough bunch once you get to know them.’ He pointed to the bar. ‘That tall fellow—’ Locky laughed to hear anyone call a Tsurani ‘tall’ ‘—he’s Sumani, the owner. Has a fair number of tales to spin about his days serving on the Tsurani world, and I’m switched if it doesn’t sound like he’s telling the truth most of the time.’
Locklear laughed. ‘Most Tsurani I know don’t indulge in tall tales, Dubal.’
‘Seems to be so, but you never know. I’ve fought the big bugs, the Cho-ja, but some of those other things he talks about, well, I’m hard-pressed to believe them.’
The serving woman arrived with the food and ale and they fell to. ‘Now,’ said Dubal, ‘can you tell me what brings you here?’
‘No,’ replied Locklear, ‘but we can ask you if you’ve seen any Quegans hanging around?’
‘There was a pack of them through here two days ago, according to the gossip,’ said Dubal. ‘I just arrived and was brokering the material we need. Aren’t Quegans a bit far from home?’
‘You could say that,’ observed Locklear. ‘We ran into some and wondered if they had friends.’
