Dark Sun: Prism Pentad 2 - The Crimson Legion (33 page)

K'kriq guided Rikus into a marble armchair begrimed with smoke. Gathered around it were
Jaseela, Styan, Caelum, and Neeva, the last two standing together. In the middle of the
room stood Gaanon, his head newly shaved and a crimson sun tattooed onto his forehead. In
his hands, he held a larger version of the stone hammers favored by Caelum's dwarves.

Rikus was more intrigued by the thin figure with Gaanon than by the half-giant's latest
attire. Standing in front of Gaanon was Maetan of Urik, dressed in a bronze breastplate
and a fresh green robe boldly emblazoned with the winged Serpent of Lubar. Noting that the
mindbender was dressed in clean clothes, the mul thought it unlikely that Gaanon had found
the Urikite crawling around the slopes of the Smoking Crown.

Rikus looked from the prisoner to K'kriq. “Fetch my belt and sword.”

Clacking his mandibles in anticipation of a good meal, the thri-kreen left to obey.

Maetan's eyes betrayed no surprise. “I came under the water banner,” he said, referring to
the Athasian custom of carrying a blue flag to signal peaceful intentions. The water
banner was most often used when one party wished to approach an oasis where strangers were
camped, but it was occasionally adopted to arrange a parley in times of war. “I trust that
even a slave will honor the courtesies of truce long enough to hear what I say.”

“We might,” Rikus allowed. “If you don't misbehave.”

In truth, the mul didn't give a varl's eggsack about the Urikite's water banner. Such
niceties were for men who regarded war as a game, and to Rikus it was a vendetta. If the
mul didn't kill Maetan today, it would be because the mind-bender escaped.

After glaring at the hated Lubar for a time, the mul shifted his attention to Neeva. “Call
everyone back from the battlefield.”

She frowned. “But many of our warriorsÑ”

“Now,”
Rikus insisted. “Whatever he says, Maetan of Lubar isn't to be trusted. I don't want our
search parties trapped if this is some sort of trick.”

The dwarves and a company of two hundred warriors remained at the battlefield, searching
for Tyrian survivors trapped beneath the avalanche. Although they had found twenty
survivors and ten times that many corpses, the legion was still missing two hundred
warriors.

As Neeva left, K'kriq returned with the Belt of Rank, the Scourge of Rkard hanging in its
scabbard. Rikus put the belt on, then said to K'kriq, “Wait outside.”

The thri-kreen crossed his antennae. “Maetan enemy Stay to k-kill.”

Rikus shook his head, fearing what would happen if the enemy general took control of
K'kriq's mind with the Way. “Go. You're needed outside, to hunt Maetan down if he uses the
Way to escape.”

K'kriq's mandibles clacked together several times, but he finally obeyed. Once the
thri-kreen was gone, Rikus removed the Scourge's scabbard from his belt and sat down,
laying the sword over his knees.

“You needn't doubt my honor,” Maetan said. “I have accepted that in coming here, I may
well die.”

“Then why come?” demanded Jaseela.

When the mindbender looked upon the disfigured noblewoman, he did not even do her the
courtesy of hiding the repulsion that flashed across his face. “My defeat has disgraced my
family,” he explained freely. “By delivering a message for my king, I redeem the Lubar
nameÑand mighty Hamanu will confiscate only half of our lands.”

Rikus allowed himself a smug smile. “What is your message?”

“It is for your king,” Maetan said.

Rikus reached into a pocket on his belt and withdrew the olivine crystal. “You can pass
your message through meÑor not at all.”

Maetan nodded. “That will be acceptable.”

Rikus held the olivine out at arm's length. Tithian's sharp features quickly appeared in
the gem, and the king scowled in anger. “I had hoped not to hear from you again,”

“I bear good news, my king,” Rikus said. “We have destroyed the Urikite army that Hamanu
sent to attack Tyr, and we have captured the village of Makla.”

“Are you mad?” Tithian roared. “Makla's quarries are Urik's only source of trade. Hamanu
will wipe you outÑand raze Tyr in retaliation!”

Rikus looked away from the gem, careful not to betray Tithian's reaction since only he
could hear the king's ranting. Behind Maetan, Neeva slipped back into the room.

Rikus returned his attention to Maetan. “What's your message?”

“Mighty Hamanu will suffer the pretender Tithian to sit on the throne of Tyr,” the Urikite
said. “In exchange, Tithian must relinquish Makla, maintain Tyr's trade in iron, and
present to Hamanu all the gladiators in this legion. The mighty king of Urik will not
tolerate slaves loose in the desert.”

Rikus dutifully repeated the offer to the king.

“Accept it!” Tithian commanded. From the anxiety that still colored the king's face,
however, it was clear that he did not believe Rikus would do as ordered.

Remembering Tithian's betrayal in the nest of the slave tribe, the mul gave the king a
bitter smile, then looked up at Maetan. “Tyr refuses.”

“I am the king!” Tithian screeched, his voice sounding inside the mul's ears alone. “I
decide what to refuse and what to accept!”

Maetan nodded as though he had expected Rikus's response. “Hamanu thought you might be
reluctant to return to your rightful station, Rikus,” he said. “Therefore, he has sent his
army to block all the routes to Tyr. You will not be allowed to return to your city.”

Rikus raised his brow. “That must have taken many legions. The desert is a large place.”

“Hamanu's army is larger,” Maetan answered. “His legions have blocked every route. You
have only two choices: surrender or die.”

Rikus remained quiet, though not because the mindbender's words frightened him. If
Maetan's claim was true, the mul had a third choiceÑalbeit a desperate one: attack Urik
itself. Even Hamanu's army was not so large that it could garrison the city and still seal
all the routes between Urik and Tyr.

Taking advantage of the mul's silence, Jaseela demanded, “If Hamanu has marshaled his
legions, why isn't he sending them here?”

Maetan did not even bother to look at the noblewoman. “Because that would achieve only pan
of his goal,” said the mindbender. “He wishes to guarantee access to Tyr's iron and to use
your gladiators to replenish his supply of slaves. Destroying this legion would accomplish
neither, whereas a negotiated peace will achieve both.”

“It doesn't matter. Hamanu's offer is refused,” Rikus said.

In the gem, Tithian yelled, “You ill-begotten larva of an inbred cilops!”

Rikus silenced the king's voice by slipping the olivine back into his belt pocket. At the
same time, Styan stepped to the mul, asking, “Is it wise to reject this offer? Aren't you
endangering Tyr for the sake of a few Warriors?”

“Would you ask that if you and your templars had to stay to work Urik's quarries?”
demanded Neeva. “Stop trying to save your own life.”

The templar spun on her. “I'm trying to save Tyr!” he yelled. “If that means some of us
suffer, then so be it!”

“You're a fool, then,” said Jaseela, speaking calmly. “Even if we could force the
gladiators to surrenderÑwhich we can't Ñit would make no difference. Hamanu will honor his
word only as long as it's convenient. I say we stay and fight as one.”

“You mean stay and die,” spat Styan.

“We're not going to die, and our gladiators are not going to surrender,” Rikus said,
leaning forward in his chair. “I have something else in mind for us.”

His comment elicited puzzled expressions from his lieutenants, but only Styan questioned
him. “What would that be?”

Rikus sat back. “I'll tell you when the time comes,” he said. The mul had no intention of
revealing his plan now, for he feared the mindbender would use the Way to communicate it
to Hamanu.

Instead, Rikus turned his gaze on Maetan, who was quietly smirking at the discord. “Now
that you've delivered Hamanu's message, our truce is finished. At the moment, you are the
one who has only two choices: answer my questions and die quickly, or refuse and be torn
apart by the thri-kreen.”

Maetan showed no emotion at the threat. “My choice depends upon your questions.”

“Name the spy who has been telling you of our movements and plans,” the mul demanded.

The statement elicited a rustle of surprised murmurs from his lieutenants, for Rikus had
mentioned his concerns to no one except Neeva. All eyes immediately went to Styan, who, as
a templar, was automatically suspect. The color drained from the old man's face.

Maetan raised his brow and barely kept a smile from crossing his lips. “My spy?”

“Answer!” Rikus yelled.

The mindbender allowed the crowd to eye Styan for several moments, then said, “Very well.
It costs Urik nothing to reveal the spy's identity. Besides, his service did not prevent
my family's disgrace.” He pointed at Caelum. “It was the dwarf.”

“What?” Neeva shrieked.

“I promised to return the
Book of the Kemalok Kings”
the Urikite explained. He held his arms up and opened his robes, showing that there was
nothing hidden beneath them. He laughed cruelly, then said, “Unfortunately, I seem to have
forgotten it. What a pityÑCaelum will have to go to my townhouse in Urik to recover it.”

Rikus stared at Caehum's frightened face with a slack jaw. He had been so convinced of
Styan's guilt that Maetan had stunned him by naming the dwarf. Nevertheless, the
mind-bender's accusation made a certain amount of sense. Rikus had long ago voiced his own
suspicions about Caelum, and he did not find it surprising that the dwarf would resort to
treachery to recover the book. To the mul's mind, however, the most condemning indications
of the cleric's betrayal were the times he or his dwarves had refused to do as commanded
and the lengths to which he had gone to endear himself to Neeva.

“Seize Caelum,” Rikus ordered.

Styan, who looked greatly relieved, moved to obey. Neeva cut him off and stepped in front
of the dwarf. “Leave him alone.”

Styan reached for his dagger and tried to circle around the female gladiator. Neeva
disarmed him with a lightning-fast kick that sent his blade flying, then grabbed a handful
of his long gray hair and jerked him into her grasp. She slipped a hand around his chin
and placed the other against the back of his neck.

“Don't even flinch,” she hissed. “As it is, it's been too long since I've killed a
templar.”

“Release him!” Rikus ordered, stepping off the marble throne. When she did not obey, he
repeated his order. “Let Styan go.”

“No,” Neeva answered. “If you take another step, Rikus, I'll snap his neck.”

“That's your choice,” the mul countered, drawing the Scourge. “It won't save Caelum.”

Neeva yelled in anger, then pushed Styan halfway across the room and unsheathed her own
sword. “If you mean to kill him, you'll have to fight past me.”

Rikus stopped. “You don't mean that,” he said, his gaze fixed on her emerald eyes.

“Neeva, don't,” Caelum said. He took a slow step toward Rikus.

“Be quiet and let me handle this,” Neeva ordered, once again placing herself between the
dwarf and Rikus. To the mul, she said, “If you believe MaetanÑ”

“It's not Maetan I believe, it's what has happened since the dwarves joined us” Rikus
countered. “The Urikites have countered every move we've made before we made it.” “Perhaps
there is a spy,” Neeva allowed. “It's not Caelum, though. It doesn't make sense. He's the
one who saved us from the halflings, and he fought with us at Umbra's ambushÑ”

“That was when we lost Jaseela's company,” Styan pointed out, still lying on the floor.

“Thanks to you,” Gaanon said. “If your templars would have been there, we'd have won.”

“TrueÑbut the dwarves weren't there either,” said Jaseela.

“How can you say that?” Neeva demanded. “Caelum was, and he saved your life!”

“Only because she was standing next to him,” Rikus said. “He didn't save any of her
retainers.”

Caelum stepped from behind Neeva. “Rikus, I can understand why, you choose, to believe our
enemy's word over mine,” the dwarf said, his voice edged with fear and anger. “But Neeva
does not deserve such an insult. Apologize to her, or I'll take measures.”

Neeva scowled. “Caelum, I'm not the one in danger here. Be quiet.”

Rikus shook his head, astonished by the dwarf's tone. “Take measures!” The mul shouted.
“Are you threatening me?”

Caelum blanched, but he did not back down. “No, I'm warning you,” he said. He stepped
forward, shrugging off Neeva's hand when she tried to restrain him. “Believe that I'm the
spy if you want. Go ahead and kill me. But you won't mistreat Neeva while I'm alive.”

Jaseela stepped to the mul's side. “Maybe we'd better think this through,” she said. “What
if Maetan's lying? He has no reason to tell us the truth. He might be trying to avenge
himself On Caelum for bringing that river of fire down on his army, or he might be
protecting the real spy.”

She glanced at Styan meaningfully, then turned back to the dwarf, who remained standing
before Rikus. “Besides, I don't think Caelum's acting much like a spy.”

“No, he's not,” Rikus agreed. He looked from the noble woman to the dwarf- “He's acting
like a dwarf with a focus.”

Caelum met Rikus's eyes evenly. “That is so,” he admitted. “On the day Neeva saved my
life, I swore to protect: always.”

“Then it stands to reason Caelum can't be the spy,” Neeva said. She gently laid a hand on
the dwarf's shoulder. “Betraying the legion would be a violation of his focus.”

“Unless he's lying about his focus,” Rikus said, glaring at Neeva. Despite his growing
anger, the mul sheathed his sword and stepped away. “I don't know whether he's the spy or
not, Neeva, but he's your responsibility. If he betrays us later, you'll suffer the same
as him. Nothing will save youÑ not even what there is, or was, between us.”

Neeva's eyes softened. “You're doing the right thing.” She, too, sheathed her sword, then
gave him a weak smile. “Thank you.”