Emperor of Ansalon by Douglas Niles & Jeff Easley

Author:Douglas Niles & Jeff Easley [Niles, Douglas & Easley, Jeff]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Science Fiction
ISBN: 9781560766803
Google: l6EFKQAACAAJ
Amazon: 1560766808
Goodreads: 92913
Publisher: TSR
Published: 1993-02-15T21:27:40+00:00

Chapter 14

Plaza of Fire

"I'm going with you!" Ferros insisted after Ariakas told him about the mysterious summons. The two sat in the estate's great room, with glowing embers in the fireplace and tumblers of lavarum near to hand. The house was silent around them, though Ariakas knew that mute Kandart watched and waited in the shadows, ready for the moment when the glasses were empty.

"I don't think that's a good idea," the warrior disagreed. "I was told to come alone—and besides, you know what your presence did to him last time."

"By Reorx, man—I didn't mean I'd walk right out there and shake his hand! But when you go to see that treacherous little weasel, I intend to be hiding in the background, someplace where I can get a good view."

The dwarf patted the heavy crossbow he had recently acquired, and Ariakas reflected that Ferros could provide him with a measure of security. After all, the warrior wasn't certain what the Zhakar wanted, but he'd learned enough from their first meeting to go into the rendezvous with full preparation and alertness.

"I don't think he'll try anything," Ariakas noted. "After all, he had a good taste of my sword last time. Still, it would be good to have you there to keep an eye on things."

"Yeah—I smell a trap," groused Ferros. The dwarf stood, furiously scratching at the rash along his arms, chest, and belly. "Damned firebugs!" he snarled. "Worse than ever last night!"

Ariakas chuckled sympathetically. "I still haven't had any in my bed—maybe they like your smell!"

"Humpf! So, you going to be ready for this?"

"I will be by midnight," Ariakas replied, grimly confident.

The warrior had decided not to tell anyone at the temple about the upcoming meeting. If it turned out well, Ariakas could bring Tale Splintersteel to Wryllish Parkane and show the high priest that his efforts had in fact met with success. If nothing—or, even worse, something disastrous—came of the meeting, there would be no need for his temple-mates to learn of the failure.

Ferros spent several hours honing to razor-sharpness the heads of his bolts. He had a full quiver of the steel-shafted missiles, and proudly informed Ariakas that the arrows could punch through plate mail at a hundred paces.

The human warrior, meanwhile, went to his dry garden and sat on a stone bench in the brittle bower.

Before him spread the valley. Today, with its eternal shroud of haze hanging unusually low, Sanction had a tight, enclosed feeling. Ariakas felt power tingling in the air, believed with certainty that things of great portent were in the works. He took his sword and laid the naked blade across his lap. The perfect blackness of the steel mirrored his own spirit to an infinite depth.

Gradually his mind filled with a sensation of falling— but very gently, as if wings had sprouted from his shoulders and now carried him easily toward Krynn from a great height. For nearly two hours he sat on the bench, his heart and lungs slowing their pace as his mind drifted on the currents of the Dark Queen.

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