Rivalen found the very notion offensive. After all, Shar offered him no such boon, and he was her Nightseer.

Brennus said nothing and the silence stretched.

Perhaps he is dead? Rivalen offered at last. Rivalen offered at last.

Brennus answered, I would know if it were so. He could be hiding within an area of dead magic. Perhaps still in the Hole of Yhaunn. That is a possibility I would know if it were so. He could be hiding within an area of dead magic. Perhaps still in the Hole of Yhaunn. That is a possibility.

There, Rivalen said, comforted. Continue your efforts, and inform me if you locate him. What of Sakkors and the Source? Continue your efforts, and inform me if you locate him. What of Sakkors and the Source?

Yder has accomplished much. Sakkors is almost fully restored. Three hundred of our elite warriors under Leevoth arrived yesterday to bolster the five hundred battle-bred krinth already here. The Most High has put all of them at your disposal.

Mention of the Most High evoked a sense of unease, but Rivalen was otherwise pleased. Leevoth and his men were among the finest shade warriors in Shade Enclave. Each bore a gla.s.steel blade infused with shadow magic that sheared through metal as if it were cloth.

Brennus continued. The Source itself is functional but its consciousness appears ... damaged, hostile. The mind-altered krinth are able to control it for a time, but only for a time The Source itself is functional but its consciousness appears ... damaged, hostile. The mind-altered krinth are able to control it for a time, but only for a time.

Then?

Their minds are consumed. They are left catatonic.

Rivalen nodded. He would have to use the Source's sentience sparingly. The mindmage, Magadon Kest, had altered only thirty or so of the krinth.

Events are moving quickly here, he said. Have Yder position Sakkors to a.s.sist should I need it. An hour or less away, not days. I will send for him at the appropriate time Have Yder position Sakkors to a.s.sist should I need it. An hour or less away, not days. I will send for him at the appropriate time.

What more do you wish of me?

I want you here.

There?

Yes. Finalize matters on Sakkors and transport yourself here. I may have need of your divinations. And I wish to show the Hulorn good faith. He is increasingly nervous.

Very well, Brennus answered. Shall I bring Leevoth and his men, then, as well? Shall I bring Leevoth and his men, then, as well?

No, Rivalen answered. Their entrance is to be more ... dramatic Their entrance is to be more ... dramatic.

How do you mean?

A voice in the crowd called out to Rivalen.

Come as soon as you are able, he said to Brennus, and broke the connection.

"Prince Rivalen!" called a man in the crowd. "When will we have the aid of the Shadovar? Rumors say that the armies of the overmistress will soon come."

Others among the crowd nodded, murmured agreement.

"a.s.sistance is on the way," he returned, loud enough for all to hear. For effect, he let the shadows around him churn. Eyes widened.

"Fear nothing," he said. "I regard Selgaunt as my own city. I a.s.sure you that no army will breach its walls."

Smiles, raised fists, and a ragged cheer answered his words.

Rivalen walked on among his future subjects.

Later he returned to his quarters and one of the Hulorn's messengers informed him that Saerloon had begun to marshal.

He could not hold in a smile.

CHAPTER NINE.

26 Uktar, the Year of Lightning Storms Abelar, Regg, and their company-less the four score dead or incapacitated from the battle-raced toward Saerb. Mounts and men fought fatigue with every league they covered, but fear for their friends and families pulled them ever north and west. They had slept little. Roen and the priests kept them all fed on magical fare and they ate in the saddle. They stopped during the day only for Dawnmeet and as the stout Saerbian mounts required. Leagues of whipgra.s.s-covered plains lay behind them. Leagues more still lay before them.

Only the sound of thundering hooves marked their pa.s.sage. The men did not jest or chat with one another as they rode, as was their habit. Their usual camaraderie had surrendered to quiet purposefulness. The battle with Ordulin's forces had driven home the hard realization that civil war had started. Matters would soon get much worse, Abelar knew, and much bloodier.

The unoccupied road stretched before them like a ribbon. They pa.s.sed villages from time to time but slowed only to warn the villagers that war was coming and that they should flee south.

Fear for Elden consumed Abelar's thoughts. He occupied the hours by reciting in his mind pa.s.sages from Lathander's Book of Light Book of Light. He reminded himself that dawn always chased even the darkest night, that the sun set but always rose anew. The proverbs brought him scant comfort.

The setting sun turned the cloudless western sky into a pool of orange and red. Abelar took it as a good sign. A line of tall ash trees to their left cast long shadows over the plains.

"What do you make of that?" Regg asked, pulling Abelar back to himself. Regg nodded ahead to the top of a rise, perhaps a crossbow shot distant.

Abelar squinted in the fading light. A patch of darkness blotted the rise under a stand of trees, as if a storm cloud had fallen from the sky. The darkness flowed down the rise like fog, filling the low spots with shadows.

Abelar knew it to be magical. He whistled for the attention of his men and called a halt. The men pulled up, all eyes on the hillock. Hands went to hilts. Horses whinnied.

"Roen, put some light on it," Abelar called.

Roen chanted a prayer to Lathander and pointed his hand at the rise. A globe of light flared into being over the hill but only partially countered the darkness.

Abelar saw forms within the shadows, half a dozen men or more. Darkness concealed all but one and that one stood a head taller than the rest. Something about the man's stance and stature looked familiar. The man raised a hand in greeting.

"Morning light," Regg oathed. "Can it be?"

Abelar stared, his mind racing, his heart swelling. "Can it? Can it?"

The men and women pointed at the rise and an excited murmur ran through them.

Regg put a hand on Abelar's shoulder, though he kept his eyes on the rise. "The Morninglord reunites the sundered before night falls. It is a good sign, Abelar."

Abelar nodded, overwhelmed by the blessing. He put his boots into Swiftdawn's flanks and sped forward. Regg and the company followed hard after.

Abelar's father, smiling, stepped out of the shadows, which dimmed Roen's globe of light with each pa.s.sing moment.

Abelar pulled up on Swiftdawn, leaped from the saddle, and swallowed his father in his arms. Regg and the rest of the company swarmed around them.

"Father," Abelar said, and did not try to hold back the tears.

Endren returned the embrace, his voice choked. "My son. You are well."

They drew strength from one another for a time, standing in the light of the setting sun. The men and women of the company looked on and spoke softly of standing in Lathander's favor.

Abelar held his father at arm's length and looked at the six shadow-shrouded men who stood several paces behind Endren. Shadows coiled around them, leaked from their flesh. Abelar thought of Erevis Cale. The darkness had embraced him in the same manner. Hard eyes looked out of shadow-cloaked forms. All of them wore impa.s.sive expressions on olive-skinned faces. They bore no weapons that Abelar could see, and their loose-fitting trousers and tunics befitted peasants more than warriors.

"Who are these men?" he asked Endren. Without waiting for an answer, he shouted to them, "House Corrinthal owes you a debt. I owe you a debt."

The tallest of the men inclined his head but said nothing.

Endren half-turned to face the shadowmen. "They are my rescuers. Or some of them. They pulled me from the Hole, nursed me back to health in their temple, then brought me to you. I still do not know how they found you. They speak little. But I do know that they serve Mask and travel the shadows as if they were roads."

Abelar and Regg shared a look.

"Mask?" Abelar asked his father. "You are certain?"

Endren nodded. "Strange, not so? That servants of Mask should save the father of a servant of Lathander."

"Stranger than you know," Abelar answered. He looked past his father to the men. "You are not the first servants of Mask I have met in recent days. Are you Shadovar?"

Shadows swirled and the tallest of the men suddenly stood beside him. He had covered ten paces without taking a step. Swiftdawn neighed nervously and backed away a step. Regg cursed in surprise.

Endren said, "This is Nayan. Nayan, this is Abelar, my son."

Nayan gave a half-bow, his gray eyes unreadable. He gestured at his six companions and spoke in accented common.

"We are not Shadovar, but hail from Telflammar. These are Shadem, Vyrhas, Erynd, Dynd, and Dahtem."

"Such names," Regg said. "And no weapons or armor."

Nayan's gaze never left Abelar's face. "Mask speaks to few servants in these days. Name him whom you saw."

Abelar did not care for Nayan's tone but bore it. The man had saved his father.

"Erevis Cale. He named himself a priest of Mask."

Nayan's eyes widened. The shadows around his five companions deepened, roiled. "Where and when did you see him?"

Regg said, "And who are you to demand-"

Abelar held up a hand and Regg fell silent. "Who is Erevis Cale to you?" Abelar asked.

Nayan studied Abelar's face. "He is the Right Hand of the Shadowlord, and we are his instruments."

Abelar heard no lie in Nayan's words. He told of his meeting with Erevis Cale and Selgaunt's Hulorn.

Nayan's face showed nothing, but his tone suggested disappointment. "That was too long ago, Abelar Corrinthal. We have seen him in the interim. He and the Left Hand led us in the rescue of Endren Corrinthal."

"The Left Hand?"

Nayan nodded. "Drasek Riven."

Abelar put a hand on Nayan's shoulder. The man's muscles felt carved from stone. "Then I have him to thank as well as you."

Nayan accepted Abelar's grat.i.tude with a nod of his head. He said, "The Left and Right departed Yhaunn for Selgaunt after rescuing your father. We have not seen either of them since and cannot locate them."

That did not bode well for Selgaunt, Abelar thought, but did not say. Instead, he said, "I hope they are safe and stay in the light."

Nayan smiled slightly. "If they are safe, they do not owe it to the light."

Regg laughed aloud. Even Abelar smiled.

Regg said, "We have heard a rumor that the Shadovar serve the Hulorn of Selgaunt. Perhaps the rumors have mistaken your lord for a Shadovar?"

"None would make that mistake," Nayan answered.

"We will solve this mystery together, Nayan," Abelar said. "Come. You and your men are welcome in our company. We ride northwest for Saerb."

"And there's battle upon our arrival," Regg added.

Endren gave a start and looked pointedly at Abelar, a question in his eyes.

Nayan bowed his head. "Grat.i.tude, Abelar Corrinthal, but we serve only the hands of Mask and they are not among your number. We will await their return or summons at our temple."

Abelar said, "Erevis Cale is an ... ally of mine. He would have you with us, I think."

"Perhaps," Nayan answered. "If so, he surely will tell us upon his return."

"Nayan ..." Endren began, but Abelar held up a hand to halt his father's words.

"He is his own master," Abelar said to Endren, then to Nayan, "I am disappointed. I need every fighting man I can get. But so be it. You may take horses, if you wish."

"And weapons," Regg added.

Nayan smiled. "We have no need for either." He bowed to Endren, to Abelar, to Regg, and walked back to his men. The man moved with clockwork precision. Abelar began to understand how the shadowmen must fight. He had heard of men who killed as efficiently with their hands and knees as with steel.

"Farewell, Nayan," Abelar said.

"Safe travels, men of shadow," Endren called.

Nayan inclined his head, the shadows around them deepened, and they were gone in a breath.

The men and women of the Company burst out in discussion.