The Dragons of Argonath (53 page)

Lessis had regained her feet. Her voice was icy. "Hate you? Yes, we hate you. As do all who know you, Deceiver Waakzaam, Betrayer Waakzaam, Thief of Worlds. Wound to the Mother's side."

The armored super-knight retreated again. Bazil paused, not wishing to get any closer to the spear-wielding bewkmen just behind the foe.

"Who calls me by these feeble slurs? Some hag witch, impressed with her powers of plants and nursery? Some old scarecrow obsessed with the rights of humble things to live! Be careful, old witch, in my presence, lest I shrivel ye to dust. What do you know of Waakzaam's destiny? What did humble Waakzaam do to deserve the fate that was prescribed for him? To build the world, to make it lovely to walk upon, and then to die? How can this be called just?"

"It was your duty."

"Do not talk to me of duty, witch. I built the worlds. I embody the forces of the very matter of the universe. I have performed my duty. If I hadn't, this world would not exist."

"You were gifted as one of Seven Great Spirits. The others did their work and became as one with the world. You alone betrayed the great design. Worse, you then entered the design and ruined it for your own vanity."

"Vanity? Don't you understand that we're trapped in these shallow worlds? There are other planes of existence, the planes of magnificence and the abysmal. But there is no way to reach them. They are kept for the selfish few. We must find the way to escape from these petty low-level worlds. We shall ascend to the higher planes and enter unto the magnificence. It is not vanity to dream of this."

"How many lives have you sacrificed for your schemes? Billions, entire worlds, all for your selfish dreams."

"Bah, you understand nothing. Your little empire, your religious ecstasies, all of this is meaningless."

"Many people have been very happy under that system."

"Sheep. You must learn to smash through the deceits of this plane. It is nothing but illusion, don't you see? If you penetrate the illusion, you glimpse the higher planes at once."

"This I have done. I have seen the glorious planes of the High Ones. But I accept my place. This world is beautiful enough for Lessis born in Valmes."

"You have seen the glories?" Waakzaam was astounded.

"We are not unskilled in the arcane arts in my order."

"And you wish to remain a snail within this shell of a world?"

"I do. That is the Mother's purpose."

"Rubbish! You surrender to their game. You make yourself into the mud that pervades these dreary worlds. I shall transcend and take my rightful place. I am close now. My researches have led me to some interesting areas lately. Soon I shall break through and join them on the other side of the magical mirror."

"And how will they greet you, the great Sorcerer of Twelve Worlds?"

"It shall soon be thirteen, witch."

"How shall they greet you, Dominator of Thirteen Worlds, when they contemplate the little children that you murder so casually and so cruelly in these rooms all around us?"

"Bah, you allow raw sentiment to cloud your vision. The race of men has grown too numerous, can't you see? It is time their numbers were reduced. I am in the midst of great research. When I'm ready, we shall have a fine plague, or perhaps two. That will whittle them down quickly enough."

Lessis listened with horror. Plague! Not even the dreaded Enthraans of the Padmasan school of sorcery had ever contemplated this.

Relkin, on the other hand, had heard this callousness before, in ancient Mirchaz.

"I have seen your kind before," he growled, bringing up his bow. "And I have seen them taken out and burned alive in the streets by their former slaves. Beware, great lord, whoever you are, such a fate is not beyond you."

The knight pointed at Relkin with the sword in his hand.

"You! With your little arrow who made such torment for me. You shall be crushed first!"

Again the mental fingers descended around him and tried to squeeze him out of existence. It was almost as if a giant hand was actually pressing on his skull from both sides. Relkin had endured different styles of this torment before. He had learned ways to block. The best way seemed to raise a strength inside himself to counter the pressure. He barely held off the next thrust, but it ebbed at the last, and he pushed it away. The force tightened around him again for a few more seconds, but he still resisted, and finally he shrugged it off. It slipped, missing its grip. He was free of it. He took aim.

Waakzaam screamed with rage and frustration, then unleashed another bolt of the blue fire. Relkin was knocked aside, and his shaft flew wide. Waakzaam urged his mount into a sudden charge at the dragon. Their swords rang together as Bazil moved to parry the first thrust. They came together again with a fiery clash of steel, until Bazil beat the knight by a split second and sent him flying from the back of his evil steed.

Relkin was shocked the next moment when the knight hit the ground and then bounced up unharmed. He realized that the knight's armor was imbued with magical power. Ecator's strike had been held.

Still, the Dominator was struggling to breathe after the shock of that blow. He called harshly to his fell horse.

The red-eyed steed charged, turned, and lashed at the dragon with its hooves until Bazil smacked it hard with the tail, sending it staggering sideways.

Ecator was emitting a cry of triumph, high and tinny and only just audible to the dragon. Bazil grunted for silence. Triumph was far from assured in this situation, and in the meantime his right shoulder and hip were sore where that damned horse, or whatever it was, had kicked him. Bazil hoped that the Purple Green ate this particular horse someday.

Now on foot the tall knight came forward, eager to engage. Their swords rang together. In the first fight Bazil had fought with sword and shield. Now he had just the sword, but the two-handed grip gave him extra speed. Now he got in a full stroke that rocked Waakzaam back three paces. Bazil dipped and swung low on the backhand and forced the knight into a clumsy backward leap.

Out of range for the moment, Waakzaam regained his poise. Sword at the ready, he circled, looking for an opening against his giant opponent. He had noticed an unpleasant increase in the dragon's speed since their first encounter.

Relkin came back to full consciousness, rolled over, and crawled away. The dragon's tail hurtled low overhead, just as he'd expected. He stayed low, and the great sword flashed above just a moment later.

Then he jumped to his feet and sprinted back a few yards, where he spun around, ducked down on one knee, and took aim. He had one arrow left.

The tall knight was dodging back and forth in front of Bazil, looking for a way past the mighty sword. As Relkin came to his feet, Waakzaam gave a shout and lunged, Ecator parried his thrust, and the dragon lashed at the sorcerer with a foot tipped with claws.

Waakzaam used the magical shield of Granite just in time to stymie the smashing blow. But still, it rocked him back ten feet. Even he, the Dominator of Twelve Worlds, was impressed.

These great dragons were worthy foes of the mighty! That had been a test of the shield. With his laugh rolling before him and his malice filling the air, Waakzaam went in again. The swords met again in a flash of energies, and Waakzaam summoned the strength of the ground itself into him and tested his power against that of a full-grown battledragon.

For a moment they rocked there, irresistible force blocked by immovable object, then Baz smacked the knight over the head with his crooked old tail tip. The helmet spun around, and the sorcerer lost his grip and was thrust backward. Ecator came down in the overhand, but struck only the stone-flagged floor as the knight rolled away.

Bazil was off balance and had to dip away. He flashed his tail at the knight to distract him and then turned by the doors.

Waakzaam came at him again, and they checked and parried each other for a while there and neither could find an opening. Bazil tried kicks, but the magic shield deflected them. He tried tail slaps, but the knight was aware of them now.

Then Waakzaam sought to test his strength again. He locked swords and strove to bend the dragon back.

Bazil had the mass to absorb the sorcerer's pressure and then to overwhelm him. Waakzaam was forced back, almost folded to the ground, and recovered just in time to receive a hefty tail slap that knocked his helmet off his head.

The silver curls of the elven lords were exposed. Waakzaam was enraged, even afraid. He scrambled as Bazil swung the dragonsword and almost took his head. Waakzaam screamed the command to release his minions from their state of suspended animation.

With an audible hiss, they came alive. Spears were cast, but Bazil had dodged through the doors, which were slammed shut by Mirk and Lagdalen right in the faces of the bewkmen.

When they were shut, Lessis's spell of fundament took hold, and the doors took on the strength of steel. The bewkmen hurled themselves at them, but to no effect.

Inside the chamber of horrors, the small group got their breath back and began to ask questions.

"How?"

"Why?" and "What do we do now?" followed.

"Long story," said Relkin. "Now we've got to find a way out."

"How did you get in?" said Mirk.

"Big passage, with a gate out in the gardens."

"Where is this passage?"

"Out there. On the other side of these doors."

Bazil found it hard to trust witch magic. Weird sounds and uncanny sensations to one's scale tips and talons were one thing. Doors were another. Doors were solid material things that could be shut and could be smashed open. He had to admit that the doors were holding, despite receiving a tremendous pounding by the enemy. Still, he wanted to shore them up further by shoving the long tables against the door lengthwise and propping them in place. There were eight tables, far more than necessary. He started clearing the cabinets from one table to another.

At which point he realized that the soft, sad sounds he'd been hearing ever since they'd entered this subterranean warren were coming from these cabinets. Since he'd already found them to be the source of the acrid stench, he examined the next cabinet more closely. Inside, to his surprise, was a little girl, wide-eyed, but silent, crouched in a corner on dirty straw.

Farther along the table he peered down into a cage and saw a pack of little boys. They squirmed like puppies and stared back at him with dull little eyes.

"What is this?"

Lessis stood beside him.

"Our foe does experiments on the children. He seeks to make a deadly plague that will annihilate the population of the world."

Bazil's big eyes dilated.

"By the fiery breath," he hissed. "This is one who deserve to die!"

The doors were suddenly shaken by a heavy blow. After a couple of seconds it was renewed.

"That's a ram," said Mirk, stating the obvious.

"Will the spell hold?"

Lessis spread her hands. "I don't know, dear Lagdalen. The enemy has greater powers than I, as he demonstrated so forcefully just now."

"Lady, are you all right? I feared for you."

"Just a little shaken, dear. As are we all." She smiled. "And yet we still live, and we have even secured your freedom. Let's look on the bright side."

"A good idea, Lady." Lagdalen was glad of her freedom, even if it looked as if it might be a temporary thing.

"And now, dears, we have to get these children out of this place."

They looked around them at the cabinets. There were so many.

"Right."

Eilsa pulled open a cabinet and helped out a girl of perhaps five years. The girl cried softly, but continuously from some mixture of relief and fear. Eilsa tried to comfort the little girl, but she was unable to make real contact. The little girl was tractable, but her mind was severely damaged.

The horror of the place bit into them more deeply than ever as they opened the cages and cabinets and liberated dozens more children. Soon they had a group of thirty. The children were not noisy. They were half-starved, and this kept them quiet and apathetic. Still, they did make little soft cries, some sobbing, some mumbling nonsense words to comfort themselves. The plagues tested on them had long burned out, but their suffering remained.

They gathered the children together in a group in the center of the room. The ram renewed its thudding at the door.

Speaking softly, but with her bright eyes peering deep into them, Lessis laid a spell across them that would boost their spirits and make them ready for an adventure. The children perked up. Lessis's personal magic was very effective with children. She informed them that they were going to take a journey now, away from this bad place.

That was enough for the children. They were ready to go.

Bazil piled up tables by the door.

At the far end of the experimental chambers, Eilsa and Mirk pried off the grille covering the air vent.

"This is the only way out now," explained Mirk.

"Some of the children will need help to climb the first part," said Lagdalen. "But after that it's mostly level-going, and most of them will be able to walk upright."

"Better get started, then." Lessis started sorting the children out by how healthy they seemed to her in the dim light. The healthiest went first with Eilsa to explore the ventilation system and find a way to the outside world.

Behind them the doors shook at a regular beat. The ram was still at work.

Lagdalen led the next group, who were stupefied by hunger and mistreatment, but could walk and crawl. They began to climb into the air vent. The dull pounding continued.

Lessis went to the door, put her hands on it, and felt for her spell. Her mind softened and relaxed, and she let her field of perception flow outward. After a few moments she detected it, burning bright within the matrix of the door. It still held firm, although she could sense that it had been picked at, scratched, and torn by some other magic, intent on ripping it apart. Lessis's work was always neat, and this spell was tucked down tight with nary a gap that might be exploited. Still, all her work had a certain patina, a quality that marked it as hers. That gleam was badly eroded here. She withdrew.