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The one-eyed Chaos Rider beamed at her. “That’s the spirit, Eirene.”

I grabbed Roarke’s right wrist. “The Emperor wants us to convince Lord Disaster to let us use the Staff of Emeterio to stop the
Bharashadi
from raising their dead.”

Eirene coughed down some cider. “And there’s to be only a dozen of us?”

Roarke wrinkled his nose. “Thetys is more cautious than his father. Daclones would only have sent ten— maybe eight if he knew Cruach was coming. How many more of those medallions do you have, Locke?”

“Three.” I held my hand out, and he plucked two of them from my palm.

“Keep the last because we’ll want someone from the Church of the Sunbird, and they always jump at the chance to please the Emperor. We might even get two.”

“That would be a big help.”

“Indeed. And now to find bigger help.” Roarke stood and hooked his index and little fingers between his lips. He let go with a powerful whistle that made me cover my ears and wrung a yowl from Cruach. The Umbra’s din dropped to silence, and, except for a lunatic cackle rising and falling from below us, it remained quiet.

Roarke flipped one of the medallions in the air and casually caught it. He looked up and smiled when he found himself to be the center of attention. “I’ve news for all that’s likely to mark the rest of the year, so listen good. Seems the Emperor had a visit this night from Lord Ugly himself. Disrupted the ball, Fialchar did, and was right impolite to the lords and ladies there. Thetys wants a delegation of us to go and explain to Fialchar proper conduct at an Imperial Ball.”

Roarke smiled slyly and let shouted gibes slide past without reply. “The difficult part of this mission is that the Emperor has also angered the
Bharashadi,
and they’re likely to make our passage less than comfortable. Not to worry too much, though, because this here is Lachlan, Cardew’s son. His cousin, Driscoll’s son, is with the Emperor’s Horse Guards and will be bringing his patrol, too. I would deal with this alone, mind you, but there’s always firewood that needs chopping and the occasional Chademon that wants for killing.”

Laughter and more biting comments ripped through the crowd. The unfocused hostility I felt before had slackened with Roarke’s identifying me. A couple of people nodded in my direction, and I heard my father’s name bandied about in whispers and croaks. I wasn’t openly accepted because of my heritage, but it brought me to neutral in the minds of many, and the change made me grin.

Roarke flipped one of the two medallions at a huge figure seated three tables away. A hand moved swiftly to catch the metal disc, and I heard a sound like that of a coin striking stone. The Chaos Rider stood slowly but could not straighten up all the way without hitting his head on the ceiling. Instantly I saw he was a Reptiad like Baron Sali’uz, but the light glinted off his scaly hide as if his flesh was made of mica.

“Nagrendra, 1 want you with me. Can you think of a better way to start a year?”

“If it calls you to Chaos, Roarke, it will be quite an adventure.” The Reptiad nodded slowly. “I will pay my respects to Lord Disaster and see if Jhesti left him any beard.”

Roarke tossed the other medallion out toward one person, but another shot from a chair and pulled it down. The intended target grabbed the interloper’s wrist, but the interloper pulled his hand free, then jerked his elbow back into the face of Roarke’s target. I heard a sharp crack, then a moan and the sound of a body sliding to the floor.

Roarke frowned as the man who caught the medallion walked toward us. He held the disc like a talisman out in front of him.
Cfiaosfire
filled his eyes and looked out at me from the eye sockets of the wolf-skull that formed his cowl.

“I am Tyrchon.” He slapped the medallion down on the table and looked straight at me. “1 asked your father to let me accompany him on what was his last mission. He told me I was too young to die.” The man folded well-muscled arms across a broadly built chest. “1 believe 1 have aged enough since then.” He half growled his words and attracted Cruach’s attention.

As he spoke 1 found it easy to imagine him much younger and brasher. I could see my father smiling at his offer, but sending him away because his foray was too dangerous for so young and inexperienced a fighter. Tyrchon had missed his chance with my father, and thought himself fortunate enough to have a second opportunity with me.

I looked over at Roarke. “What do you think?”

He shrugged. “The Emperor gave the medallions to you, not me.”

Tyrchon looked at Roarke. “I have been on many expeditions to Chaos. I have spent much time there. 1

have slain many Chademons:
Bharashadi,
T
svortu, Drasacor,
H
obmotli.
1 have found much in Chaos and brought it back.”

Roarke yawned. “Aside from Locke here, there’s no one in this place who couldn’t say the same for himself.”

Tyrchon nodded slowly. “Well said. With me along, though, we will not be surprised by the enemy. They may hide, but not from me.”

Eirene looked up at him. “That’s a tall claim. Prove

it.”

“Gladly.” Tyrchon raised his hands to encompass everyone in the room. “Ask any of them what they have seen of me in Chaos.”

Roarke looked around the room. “Can anyone verify his claims?”

Dead silence answered the question.

1 frowned and placed my hand over the medallion. “It would seem, Tyrchon, your claims go unsubstantiated.”

Roarke smiled and tapped me on the shoulder. “Don’t be so hasty, Locke.”

“But no one was able to back him up.”

“Right, which means he travels in Chaos alone.”

Eirene nodded. “And to do that you have to be very good or you get very dead.”

Tyrchon folded his arms across his chest. “And I’m not dead.”

I held the medallion up to Tyrchon. “Let’s see to it you stay that way. I would be honored if you would join us.”

I swear the ears on his cowl twitched as he took the coin from my hand. “I will settle my affairs and meet you tomorrow.”

He turned away and I noticed the wolfskin did not

move freely. I stared after him, then turned to Roarke. “That cloak, that cowl. Are they
part
of him?”

“Things like that happen in Chaos, Locke.” He gave me a broad smile. “Be careful what you decide to wear, because you could be wearing it for a
long
time.”

17

J

hesti the Lost Prince. Gavin Madhand. Scarlet Elk. Mira Vilewolf. My father. My uncle. The list of Imperial heroes was long, and their exploits were impressive. I had always dreamed of joining that august company, but never did I imagine I would be given an opportunity to do so quite this soon in my life. 1 had secretly hungered for the day when Cardew would be remembered as my father instead of me always being described as his son, but had anyone suggested i would participate in an expedition going into Chaos before I’d reached a full score years, I would have considered them insane.

And i was insane for going, but that seemed appropriate because this whole business was insane. A Chaos demon in the capital, Lord Disaster disrupting the Bear’s Eve Ball—none of it made sense. In fact, it violated the tenets of reality as far as I was concerned.
Can
I
be insane if the measuring stick for reality and sanity has been this badly broken?

As I returned to my grandmother’s home I got to watch the sun rise from the ocean and send the first rosy rays out to paint the thin clouds.
That
certainly seemed normal enough, but I suspected that would be my only brush with normalcy over the next week. I clung to it, using it as an omen that not everything had changed, and that we might be able to put things right again.

If we couldn’t, the red in the clouds would be from the burning of Imperial cities by Black Shadow invaders.

The presence of a Chaos demon in the capital was known only to a few very trusted individuals, and I trusted Eirene and Roarke as much as the Emperor trusted me. We all assumed that the B
harashadi
had either left the capital immediately after his theft had been discovered, or that he was still in the city hiding with members of the Black Church. To announce this to everyone, however, would have started a panic that quite probably would have resulted in riots and vigilante slayings of anyone even remotely suspected of being a Black Churcher, so attempts to uncover his location had to be made carefully.

Lord Disaster’s coincidental visit gave the Emperor the excuse to lock the city up tight. He started, using a rumor that Lord Disaster had not really appeared at the ball, but that it had been some renegade magicker trained in Chaos as his apprentice. The visitation had been part of a plan, heralds reported, to demoralize the Empire. The Emperor announced his intention to find the culprits and make them pay.

Immediate and harsh security measures were put in place. The city gates were closed, and people were let in and out only after strict searches by soldiers and sorcerers in the Imperial service. Heavily armed patrols headed out from the capital to comb the surrounding area for the demon and to set up a cordon he would have a difficult time negotiating. All shipping was blockaded, and orders were given to sink any ship that did not allow itself to be boarded and searched.

As my head hit the pillow, I said a silent prayer that the patrols would find and destroy the B
harashadi
sorcerer before he reached Chaos. That would make everything so much easier, even if it meant 1 would have to wait to become a hero. Given the nature of our mission, having to develop the virtue of patience was something I found infinitely preferable to dying in Chaos.

lames entered my room and awakened me just past midday. An Imperial messenger had arrived and conveyed to me an invitation to visit with the Emperor within the hour. I washed quickly and dressed myself in the clothes the Emperor had lent me the previous night. I was all set to head out immediately when I realized I’d not seen my grandmother since before Lord Disaster appeared and that I wanted to make certain the previous night’s excitement had not taken its toll on her health.

I headed up to the solar and found her dozing there as I had on the day of my arrival. She sat there, bathed in sunbeams, with a blanket covering her legs. Needlework lay in her lap, and a faint smile twisted the corners of her mouth.

I started into the room to wake her gently, then stopped. She looked so pleased and content that I chose not to disturb her. She had watched her sons march off into combat many times, and on the last of these they had not returned. Now their sons, her grandsons, were going to be sent on a mission similar to the one that had killed her sons. To wake her up and inform her of that news would be unforgivable, so 1 backed slowly out of the doorway.

Better she rejoices in my having won favor with the Emperor than she worries about what I must do for him.

My retreat from the solar took me all the way down lo the kitchen. I grabbed three hot biscuits from Rose and gave her a peck on the cheek by way of a thank-you. 1 looked around for Marija to see how she had recovered from the ball but could not find her. Outside Nob told me she had gone off to the market, and that he had sent Carl along to watch after her. 1 thanked him and tossed the heel of one biscuit to Striapach, the taller of the two wolfhound bitches he had on lead.

In the street I headed as straight as possible for the palace. 1 had been surprised at how my stomach hitched when Nob told me his grandson was escorting Marija to market. I knew I liked her, but this involuntary reaction suggested I liked her a lot more than 1 realized. As nearly as I could remember, I’d never actually felt
jealous
about anyone before—not that being jealous is something to brag about.

Too much seemed to be happening too quickly. Any
one
of the things happening to me would have been enough to make the trip to the capital an adventure. I had met the Emperor. I had confronted Fialchar. i had found a girl I liked. I had been given an Imperial mission to travel into Chaos.

In one short trip I’d done what others took a whole career to accomplish. For all the excitement, though, meeting Marija seemed somehow more important than all the other things. That realization certainly gave me something to think about, but the mission for which I had been chosen did not give me much time to do that thinking.

At the palace I was immediately ushered to the map room. It came as no surprise to find Kit, the Warlord, the Emperor, and Warder Illtyd already present. A table over near the opening to the viewing room had a crust of bread on it, along with a wine pitcher, some fruit, cheese, and several half-filled goblets.

“Good morning, Locke,” Kit greeted me. Kit looked as if he had not gotten that much sleep, yet he looked less haggard than Thetys or Garn Drustorn.

“Morning, Kit. Grandmother seems fine after last night.” I lowered my voice. “Is there any news?”

“Some.” Kit brushed some bread crumbs from his tunic. “We attempted to use spells to locate the Fistfire Sceptre, but they didn’t work.”

“Why not?” I glanced at Warder Illtyd. “Wouldn’t that powerful an item be easy to pinpoint with magick?”

“Under normal circumstances, yes, but it appears our thief is not wholly stupid.” The Warder wiped sleep-sand from the corner of his eye. “We believe the thief broke the sceptre down into its component parts. He can’t use it in that state, but if he is as powerful as you and your cousin indicate, he would not need it until he reaches the Ward Walls and wants to cross over to Chaos.”

I frowned. “Forgive me for being so slow, but magick confuses me. Why would his having broken the sceptre down into various parts make it difficult to detect?”

The sorcerer smiled. “Your question is a difficult one to answer. What is it that makes a chair a chair?”

I hesitated for a moment, sensing a trick. “It has four legs, a seat, and a back.”

“But if it only has three legs, in a triangle configuration so it still stood, would it still be a chair?”

“1 guess so.”

“But you could tell the difference between it and a three-legged stool?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Well…” My frown deepened. “It has an inherent chairness about it, I guess.”

The Warder nodded. “Exactly. So it is with everything, from rocks to people and magickal items. That inherent quality of being whatever it is helps identify that person or item as far as magick is concerned. When the sceptre is dismantled, whatever that quality is, it undergoes reduction until we can’t identify it anymore. If and when the Chademon reassembles the sceptre, we’ll know it, but until then we have no chance of detecting it.”

“I see, I think.” I shrugged and let the matter drop as another sorcerer called Illtyd aside to deal with some problem. A number of other individuals moved around the room, placing standards with color-coded flags on the miniature landscape to mark out zones. The vast majority of spaces were encompassed in a boundary of white flags.

The Warlord nodded to me. “lust before you arrived, Warder Illtyd explained that the information about the various areas of Chaos correspond roughly to the color of the flags outlining them. The darker the flag, the more recent and solid the information.”

“White means we know little or nothing?”

“Not exactly, Locke.” Illtyd, who had returned, frowned and pointed to the miniature with his right hand. “All of the geographical features you see depicted here have been painstakingly reproduced from survey reports. The level of that information is very good, but noting the layout of stones on a plain tells us nothing about what might live beneath the stones. We know what the mountains look like, but we have little or no idea about what might be inside of them.”

Kit leaned over and squinted at one detail of the map. “We can and should make some assumptions if we want to locate this Necroleum. The first, I think, is that it must be in territory held by the
Bharasfiadi.
i cannot imagine, if it is so important to them, they would not protect it very well.”

Thetys nodded in agreement. “I doubt other Chademons would allow it to exist given what the presence of thousands of B
harashadi
warriors would mean to the balance of power in Chaos. I think we can limit our search to
Bharashadi
territory.”

That assumption, it struck me, still left a great deal of Chaos for its location. “I think we can also assume that it is in a very defensible area. I would doubt it is located in ruins or anything else that we might know about from books or maps written and drawn before the invasion.” I pointed to a white-flagged area of labyrinthine canyons and river valleys. “I would bet it is in there somewhere.”

Illtyd pointed us toward the small room used the day before to explain the situation to the nobles. “That is as good a place as any to start, I suppose. I will have my aides bring us the survey reports, maps, and journals from any expeditions in that area. Let us hope we find some clue that will help you in your expedition.”

We pored over volumes of material for the next six hours. The material we used was incredibly varied in reliability and presentation. A lot of it seemed based on talks with Chaos Riders after their return from expeditions. Hyperbole characterized many accounts, but they also contained a wealth of information. I pored over the ones I’d been given, drinking in details and facts that I hoped would help me in Chaos.

Despite the hours we put in, we only covered a quarter of the area we had decided to explore. I discovered many things that astounded and amazed me, but 1 learned little I could consider useful to the task at hand. Reading about legendary creatures like the Emerald Stallion or of spotting Castel Payne aloft were interesting, but really had little bearing on our task. What might have been a promising trail in one set of documents was proved to be false by another. While gaining a very good feel for the area, the only thing that time did for me was clarify the enormity and impossibility of our mission.

llltyd put several of his aides to work compiling a definitive gazetteer of the valleys and canyons we read about. One woman combined all of the maps and sketches we came across into a composite view of the region that included demarcations for variable time zones, safe watering holes, old ruins in which we might take shelter, and known ambush sites. Each site was given a number which corresponded to an entry in the gazetteer, and we were assured we would be given multiple copies of each to study and use during the mission.

As the day wore on into midafternoon, I was granted leave to go and meet Roarke at the Temple of the Sunbird. The Emperor approved of his suggestion to get a member of the Church to go with us, so I took that as a good sign. I left the palace and made my way to the Temple district, finding Roarke rather easily on the broad steps of the Sunbird temple.

“There you are, Locke.” The one-eyed man smiled and greeted me with a slap on the shoulder. “I spoke with one of the Priests earlier, and I think we will be given help.”

“Good.” I looked around and frowned. “Where’s Cruach?”

Roarke laughed lightly. “1 went to your grandmother’s home to bring you with me earlier. You were gone, so 1 left Cruach with Nob. 1 will get him later. Come on.”

The mammoth granite temple reminded me more of a fortress than a place of worship. It had pillars holding up a frieze depicting the Sunbird in battle with the Demons of Night, but the austerity of the rest of the structure mocked the ostentation of the other temples on the street. The dark tunnel that led through the guarded gate had murderholes cut in the top of it, and when the iron doors were closed and barred at either end, an army could have been held captive. Nowhere in the tunnel did I see grand murals or tapestries giving glory to the Sunbird or the accomplishments of the Sunbird believers.

“Rather a forbidding place, is it not?”

BOOK: Michael A. Stackpole
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