Dark Sun: Prism Pentad 2 - The Crimson Legion (35 page)

“Tell me again why we're doing this?” whispered Neeva, staring at the heavy, stone-faced
gates ahead.

“First, to save the legion, and second, to recover the
Book of the Kemalok Kings,”
Rikus answered.

“And how is attacking Urik going to do that?” she asked, scowling at the mul's logic.

“After we secure the gate, Jaseela leads the rest of the legion into the city. We free
Urik's slaves, then lead them in revolt,” Rikus answered. “Hamanu will have to recall his
legions from the desert to restore order. That's when we'll take the book, our warriors,
and any Urikite slaves we've freed and go back to Tyr.”

“It doesn't look like most of Urik's legions are in the desert to me,” Neeva objected. She
cast a furtive glance at the archers along the top of the wall.

“No king would send all his soldiers out,” Rikus assured her. “That's just a small
garrison. After we overpower them, you take the dwarves to find Maetan's townhouse and
recover the
Book of the Kemalok Kings.
The rest of us will take the slaves and sack the city.”

“That might be harder than you make it sound,” observed Neeva. She frowned, then asked,
“With all those archers up there, it occurs to me that Hamanu may know we're coming. Has
that possibility crossed your mind?”

“Not in the last few moments,” Rikus said. “If he did, why would he let us march into his
city?”

“Because it's easier than chasing us down,” Neeva answered. “And because, once we're
inside the walls, there will be no place to hide”

Rikus shook his head. “No. Hamanu would have had to know that we would attack Urik when
Maetan told us where his legions were,” the mul said. “That's not possible. I didn't even
give our own army enough information about our planÑor time enough to reactÑfor a spy to
give us away.”

Neeva did not contradict him.

They continued on in silence, until the gladiators began to crowd into the cramped tunnel
leading beneath the city wall. Someone fell victim to the jostling and shoving, stumbling
over a companion's feet and falling to the ground. The orderly line became a confused
jumble as those in the rear continued to press forward and those in the front did their
best to avoid trampling the one who had tripped.

A few moments later, Rikus and Neeva caught up to the fallen man. To the mul's surprise,
he had sun-bronzed skin and a crimson sun tattooed on his forehead.

As Neeva reached down to jerk the dwarf back to his feet, Rikus growled, “Caelum.”

Once they had passed into the tunnel beneath the wall, Rikus grabbed Neeva's arm. “What's
the dwarf doing here?” he demanded, nearly stumbling as they shuffled up the steeply
sloped floor.

“You said he was in my charge,” Neeva countered, her tone already defensive and angry.

“I also ordered him to stay with Jaseela and the rest of the legion until it attacks,”
Rikus said. “If he sounds the alarmÑ”

“Caelum is no spy,” Neeva spat back. “Besides, if any of us are going to survive this
crazy plan of yours, we'll need his sun-magic.”

“Rikus, I would never do anything to hurt Neeva,” Caelum said. “And I want the
Book of the Kemalok Kings
returned to Kled as much as you do.”

The dwarf fell silent as they left the tunnel and entered the city. Looking over the heads
of those in front of him, Rikus saw that they were moving toward a narrow boulevard paved
with white cobblestones. To either side of the street rose yellow walls capped with spiky
shards of obsidian and breached at irregular intervals by smaller gates. In the center of
the avenue sat a massive, wedgelike block of granite. Located on a steep ramp in front of
the slave gate, the granite block was mounted on huge wooden rollers and held in place by
a hemp rope larger around than a tree trunk. Next to this rope stood one of Hamanu's
templars and two half-giants armed with axes of steel. They were protected by a small
contingent of gate guards wearing leather hauberks and armed with long obsidian swords.

As the group shuffled forward, Tamar appeared in Rikus's mind. Her form quickly changed
from that of a silky-haired woman to a semblance of Rikus himself, save that ruby-red orbs
glowed out from where the mul's black eyes should have been. A cold shiver of foreboding
ran down the mul's spine, then he heard the wraith say something that, at first, made no
sense to him.

Caelum, you have disobeyed my commands for the last time,
the wraith said.

Rikus felt his lips move along with those of the double inside his mind, then heard his
own voice repeat Tamar's words.

Still in the mul's form, Tamar clenched her fist and took a step sideways. Rikus found
himself moving toward the dwarf, his fist also clenched.

Stop it, Tamar!
Rikus ordered, struggling in vain to make his muscles obey his own will and not the
wraith's.
You'll doom us all!

You're sending him and his dwarves after the book,
she said.
I won't allow it.

Inside Rikus's mind, Tamar reached out. In accord with her movements, the mul found his
arm rising toward Caelum.

Neeva stepped between the mul and the dwarf. “Rikus Are you
trying
to draw attention to us?”

Tamar thrust her arm out and Rikus felt himself shove Neeva away. The satchel slipped from
her shoulders and crashed to the ground, echoing off the high stone walls surrounding the
entranceway. Frowning in confusion, Caelum backed away from Rikus and thrust one hand
toward the sun, collecting the energy for a spell. “Have you gone mad?”

On all sides of them, astonished warriors turned toward the commotion. Seeing that Neeva
had dropped her sack, they did likewise and began digging their weapons out of their
satchels.

By the light of Ral!
Rikus growled. Because Tamar still controlled his body, he could not look around to see
how the Urikites were responding. Nevertheless, he could hear the gate guards calling for
the archers to reinforce them.

Rikus willed an image of himself into his mind, directly in front of Tamar's double. He
launched himself at the wraith with such fury that she stumbled away, vainly raising her
arms to block the barrage of fists.

Stop!
Tamar ordered.
The dwarf is ready to kill you!

Let him,
Rikus answered. He kicked the wraith in the ribs, then knocked her to the ground with a
vicious overhand punch.
You're losing the battle for meÑthat's all that matters.

Rikus's double suddenly faded to mist before his eyes. The mul braced himself, expecting
the wraith to return in the form of some hideous monster and rip him apart. Instead,
Tamar's voice echoed in the black depths of his mind.
The battle is far from lost,
she said.
Still, I will wait for a more convenient time.

Once again, the mul found himself in control of his own body, standing in the middle of
Urik's slave boulevard while war cries sounded all around him. Caelum remained in front of
him, red eyes burning with anger. The dwarf held one glowing hand toward the sun, and only
Neeva's firm grasp kept the other pointed at the ground instead of at the mul. “It's
over,” Rikus said. “You're safe for now, Caelum.” He dropped the satchel from his back and
plunged his hand into it. A shard of obsidian opened a long cut on his hand, but he paid
it no attention and found the Scourge's hilt.

“Not yet,” Caelum insisted. “Not until you apologize toÑ”

“I need no apology,” Neeva snapped, pulling a pair of short swords from her own sack. “We
have a fight to attend to.”

After Rikus pulled the Scourge from its scabbard, he spun around to face the templar and
half-giants guarding the granite wedge. Already the echoes of clashing weapons and
screaming men filled the street as Rikus's gladiators attacked the gate guards, cutting
them down.

At the granite wedge, the templar cried, “Plug the slave gate!” He was already fleeing
toward the nearest exit from the boulevard.

The half-giants brought their axes down on the massive rope. The blades bit deep into the
cord, and it snapped with a vibrant twang. There was a loud rumble as the block shot down
the ramp, the logs beneath it clacking in rapid succession.

Caelum pointed his free hand at the base of the block, and a deafening boom resounded off
the boulevard walls. A bolt of flame shot from the dwarf's fingertips and, arcing over the
heads of the warriors in front of him, engulfed the logs beneath the huge stone. In an
instant, the blaze reduced the rollers to ashes. The wedge dropped to the stone ramp and
ground to a halt with a loud rumble.

The Tyrian gladiators roared a tremendous cheer, many of them calling Caelum's name, and
rushed forward to finish off the gate guards. Their moment of victory was shortlived,
however. A moment after the wedge ground to a halt, bowstrings hummed from atop the wall.
A volley of black shafts streaked down into the street, and a dozen voices cried out in
anguish as gladiators began to fall.

Rikus waved his sword at a mass of warriors near him. “You gladiators, come with me!” he
cried, starting toward the nearest side gate.

The mul had taken only a couple of steps before he realized no one was following him. He
stopped and faced them, “Follow me!”

A few gladiators reluctantly moved to obey, but many others pretended they had not heard
and advanced down the street to fight the battle on their own terms. Such a wave of anger
came over Rikus that the blood rushed to his head and he could feel the veins in his
temples throbbing. He started to move toward those who had disobeyed him, but Neeva
quickly intercepted him.

“Later,” she said. “The middle of a battle is no time to deal out punishment.” She
gestured toward the wound on his chest. “Besides, you can't blame them for being
reluctant. Half the legion thinks you're a necromancer, and the other half thinks you've
lost your mind.”

The bowstrings atop the wall snapped again. This time, it seemed to Rikus that many more
voices cried out as the black shafts rained down on the crowd.

“If they don't do as their told, what they think won't matter,” the mul growled, once
again turning toward the side gate. “See if
you
can get some of them to follow us.”

On the other side of the square portal, he found a pair of astonished Urikite guards armed
with obsidian-bladed glaives. After dodging a badly timed slash and a clumsy thrust, Rikus
killed them both with a single slash of his magical blade. He stepped over their bodies
and went a few yards down the street.

He found himself in an austere neighborhood of neatly kept chamberhouses. Built of fired
brick, each stood three stories tall, with a single rectangular door that directly abutted
the cobblestone street. Every structure and every alley appeared identical, save for a
wide variety of squiggly lines painted on the chamberhouses. The place seemed eerily quiet
and deserted.

“Where are we?” asked Neeva.

Rikus glanced over his shoulder to see the female gladiator coming after him. Behind her
were close to fifty warriors.

“Templar quarter, I think,” Rikus answered, pointing to a set of crooked lines on a
doorjamb. “That looks like writing to me, and only nobles and templars are allowed to
read.”

“This isn't a noble borough, that's certain,” Neeva agreed. “No lord would stand for
having his house look like everyone else's.”

“Shouldn't we go the other way, then?” asked Caelum. The dwarf was moving up from the rear
of the line. “Maetan said the book was in his townhouse. Surely, that isn't in the templar
quarter.”

“Maybe you shouldn't come with us,” Rikus said, scowling at the dwarf. “I mightÑuhÑlose my
temper again.”

“I'll take my chances,” the dwarf answered, stepping into line behind Neeva. “If Neeva is
here, then this is where I belong.”

“Have it your way,” Rikus said, shrugging.

He turned down the nearest alley and started toward the wall, confident that, in the
templar quarter, there would be at least one set of stairs leading to the top of the wall.
The narrow lane ran between neat rows of square windows and was crossed every fifty feet
or so by a larger avenue. The tidy structures lining the streets were painted identically:
the two lower stories in yellow and the upper in blood red. Rikus could not imagine how
the inhabitants avoided getting lost in this grid of identical buildings.

The district appeared deserted, with no sign of a templar, slave, or any other citizen.
Nevertheless, Rikus knew there were plenty of Urikites about, for he could hear their foot
steps echoing down the lanes and occasionally caught the hiss of a whispered conversation.

A few yards after what seemed the hundredth cross-street, the voices suddenly became so
clear that the mul swore he was standing only a few yards from them. Nevertheless, none of
the templars were visible in any direction.

Rikus heard several of them call upon Hamanu's name and realized that it no longer
mattered whether he could see them or not. “Magic!” he yelled.

The air itself flashed brilliant white, then claps of thunder rolled down the alleys from
all directions. A tremendous blast of air struck the mul from behind, sweeping him off his
feet. As he slammed to the ground, he heard warriors behind him screaming and pieces of
mudbrick clattering down upon the cobblestones.

When Rikus jumped back to his feet, he was flabbergasted by what he saw. Where there had
been vacant alley a moment before, a chest-high wall of thorns blocked the way. Peering
over the top of this barrier were six yellow-robed templars, some empty-handed and others
armed with crossbows.

“Where'd they all come from?” Neeva gasped.

Rikus hazarded a glance over his shoulder. Behind him, in the intersection where most of
the templars' spells had struck, the charred corpses of twenty gladiators now lay
scattered across a dozen smoking craters.

“They were invisible!” Rikus snarled.

Loud clacks sounded from all directions as the templars fired their crossbows down the
alleys. Rikus spun around in time to see several dark flashes sailing at him, then felt a
series of sharp thumps in his midsection as the bolts struck his Belt of Rank. When he did
not fall, the mouths of the crossbowmen fell open and they frantically began to reload
their weapons.