Knight Eternal (A Novel of Epic Fantasy) (Harbinger of Doom Volume 3) (16 page)

“
The sign of Bhaal lies
over the doorway,” said Tanch. “And there are other marks of
Nifleheim there, and there,” he said, pointing. “It’s a temple. A
temple to the Nifleheim lords, right here in the open.”

“
In Dover?” said Ob. “That
can’t be. This is a civilized city. A good place—always has been.
We need to go in and see what’s what.”

“
I just hope we can get
out again,” said Tanch.

They crossed the street and entered along
with several others. The entry chamber held racks of hooded robes
of red and black to be donned by worshippers before entering. Tanch
and Ob hastily garbed themselves, Ob drawing from the children’s
section, and then proceeded in. Beyond was a large worship room
lined with benches, all facing an expansive podium featuring an
immense stone altar. Well behind the altar sat a group of robed
men, mostly young, a few wizened and old.

The service about to start, guards noisily
closed and barred the chamber’s mammoth double doors. Other guards
positioned about the room made a show of slamming and barring every
other exit as well, one after another in practiced pattern. No one
was leaving this room until the service was over, that much was
clear.

Ob turned to the wrinkled old woman of blue
hair and huge hat that sat to his right. “What do I do,” he said,
pleadingly, almost in desperation, “if I have to pee?”

The woman smiled and nodded, clearly having
no idea what Ob had said.

An elderly priest stepped
up behind the altar, and faced the congregation. He gripped a
bejeweled staff of iron and wood, long and stately. The staff
glowed when he thanked the faithful for their devotion and led them
in prayers and blessings praising Bhaal and other Nifleheim lords,
whom he called Holy Arkons and the blessed Lords of
Light.

The formal ritual complete, the priest
launched into a fiery sermon, railing against the rich, and
denouncing the government. He spoke of the crown’s oppression of
the common people, the corruption of the nobles, and their foul
conspiracies to suppress the truth and keep good people down. He
appealed to the congregation’s sense of worth and entitlement. They
all deserved the same success, the same wealth, the same
opportunity as others. Too long had they been denied their
god-given rights and privileges by those who thought themselves
their betters. He urged them to stand together not as one people,
but as one family, united against the forces of evil and
oppression. Only then would they achieve all that they deserved,
only then would their worldly happiness be assured, and only then
would their honored place be reserved in paradise. The people
nodded and shouted their agreement, applauding briefly here and
there.

Ob and Tanch tensed when the priest produced
a large chalice from behind the altar and gazed out over the
gathered faithful. Hands went up amongst the congregation and the
priest pointed to one man, seated near the front. Balding and
middle-aged, the man kissed his wife and child before he stood up
and walked to the altar, a long, wicked dagger gripped in his
hand.

“
Oh, boy,” said Ob. “I had
hoped not to see this again.”

Other priests crept up
behind him and held him fast about the shoulders. The high priest
blessed the man, declaring that his sacrifice proved his devotion
to the lord and assured his passage to Vaeden, the blessed
afterlife. The man passed the priest the dagger and willingly held
out his hand, wrist up. Swift and sure, the priest sliced the man’s
wrist, though he exhibited no pain and did not call out. One of the
priests held the man’s arm still while the high priest poured a
decanter of wine over the wound and into the awaiting
chalice.

When the decanter was
empty, the high priest selected a second man from the audience, and
repeated the ritual, though this time, the dagger sliced across the
man’s neck. It soon became clear that this was naught but ceremony,
the men were not harmed at all, and no true blood was spilled. Only
wine filled the chalices passed to the faithful, each devotee,
young or old, man, woman, or child, all obliged to
drink.

Both Ob and Tanch pretended to take a sip,
though neither did. Soon the service ended, the great doors opened,
and everyone left in peace.

Ob and Tanch wandered out
in a daze. They didn’t speak until they were well away from the
crowd.

“
The prayers, the sermon,
it was all so similar,” said Ob. “Except the sacrifices were just
an act, the blood just wine.”

“
Without the bloodshed,”
said Tanch, “their ritual was not the vile thing I remembered. Not
to say I agree with their lessons, but some of them at least made
sense. I can see why people attend, why they’re drawn in.” Tanch
hesitated before continuing. “You did see the blood, real blood in
the ceremony in Southeast, right?”

“
I saw it,” said Ob,
though he seemed less certain than he should.

The crew hauled aboard bundles of wood
planks, buckets of nails, cords of rope, casks of local spring
water, baskets of fresh bread, and crates of salted meats and hard
cheeses in workmanlike manner.

Slaayde completed his
dealings with a rotund merchant of pointy beard, colorful garb, and
pasty face, trading him a goodly number of boxes marked linens,
tobacco, and gnome mead for a number of unmarked crates of dubious
origin and unspoken contents. Soon after their transaction was
complete, Theta and the others returned. Theta and Dolan were grimy
and sweaty, and Theta’s falchion was back in its sheath at this
waist. His breastplate looked shiny and renewed, as did his
shield.

“
We’ve
asked after
The Rose
as best we could,” said Claradon, “but no one can say which
way she headed. There’s just too much traffic here. No one pays
attention to what ships pass, and the harbormaster has no record.
We need to decide which way to go—continue down the Hudsar or take
the Emerald?”

“
Are
there any other rivers or tributaries that
The Rose
could take, off either
river?” asked Theta.

“
None what could handle a
ship near her size,” said Ob. “But they have dinghies aboard.
There’s a score or more small rivers and streams that flow into the
Hudsar and the Emerald that you could send a dinghy up, and there’s
a thousand places you could make shore at.”

“
So how do we decide?”
said Claradon.

“
We know they were
well-stocked at Lomion City for a long voyage,” said Theta. “How
long to Tragoss from here, and to Minoc?”

“
Both are a week to ten
days away, depending on the current and the wind,” said the
gnome.

“
What welcome would they
receive in each port?” said Theta.

“
Tragoss is ruled by monks
who worship Thoth. They’re religious wackos, a lot like the
Leaguers, but I don’t think they would abide them. Like as not,
they and the League would be at each other.”

“
And Minoc?”

“
A large trading city,
ruled by a merchant’s guild. One of the best of the independent
cities. Korrgonn would get no welcome there.”

“
But in a free city, he
could hide,” said Claradon.

“
Hiding is not his plan,”
said Theta.

Claradon looked to Theta, shaking his head.
“If he’s got no reason we know of to go to Tragoss or Minoc, he
could be just passing through on his way to anywhere. We might as
well flip a coin.”

“
Leave it to fate, then,”
said Ob, a pensive look on his face.

“
What do you think, Lord
Theta?” said Claradon.

“
A man makes his own
fate.”

Ob pulled a silver star from his pocket.
“Kings for Tragoss, castles for Minoc. Choose.”

Claradon considered for a moment. “Kings,”
he said.

Ob tossed the coin high into the air and let
it fall to the deck. “Kings.”

***

South of Dover abided the
Crags, a long expanse of enormous jutting rocks that comprised the
river’s western bank. The river’s relentless flow had carved the
Crags from the very stone of the earth, leaving naught but a tall
stony palisade. Curiously, no similar formation existed on the
opposite shore. Instead, the Mistwood—a vast, dark forest, nigh
impassable and exuding a palpable dread, ruled the eastern
bank.

Several hours after
sunset, as
The Black Falcon
sailed through the narrowest portion of the river
in the Crags region, the men spotted a score or more figures, male
and female, amidst the lowest of the stony palisades, not much
higher than the mast of the ship. Each stood on some rocky
promontory or narrow precipice; locations where none but eagles
were wont to go. Illumed only by moonlight, silent, still, and tall
they looked down on the ship, their faces cloaked in shadow and
mystery.

Theta, Claradon, and Ob stood on the Bridge
Deck, and watched the figures watch them. As the stern of the ship
passed them, one raised his arm as if in greeting or salute and
then bowed low toward the men on the deck.

“
Some friend of yours,
Theta?” said Ob. “Another pal from the old days?”

“
I know them not,” said
Theta.

“
They’re no friends of
ours,” said Claradon, pointing to his amulet, glowing
brightly.

“
Since they’ve no bows,
unless they can fly, they’re of little matter,” said Ob.

The figure who bowed
lofted some small object toward them; a powerful and accurate
throw. It landed on the deck.

Ob dashed over to examine it. The others
kept their attention on the figures on the cliff. “It’s got a rune
on it, embedded in a circle and a square.”

“
Bring it here,” said
Theta. He studied it closely after they were well past the strange
figures. “Azrael,” said Theta, turning back toward the figures, now
lost in the night. Theta gripped his Ankh in his right hand. “We
shall meet them again.”

IX

TRAGOSS MOR

“
They have to spread our
wealth around to the poor.

That gives them power. That’s what this here
is all about.”

“
Theta, any sign of our
shadow?” said Ob.

“
It follows us still,
though it has fallen farther back.”

“
All the
way from Lomion to the shore of the Azure Sea and not a sign
of
The White Rose
,” said Claradon, his hand on the ship’s rail. “We must’ve
hailed three score ships this past week and not one could say if
they had seen her.”

“
That don’t mean nothing,”
said Ob. “The Hudsar is wide and busy down this way, so captains
rarely pay heed to what ships they pass.”

“
We should’ve taken the
eastern fork to the Emerald River. I’ve failed my brother. We’ll
never find him now.”

“
We trusted to fate, and
we will soon know if that was sound or sorry. Either way, we will
catch up to them. Don’t you worry, boy. We’ll get Jude
back.”

Tanch stepped up to the others, a wet cloth
held over his mouth, his face pale and drawn. “What is that
atrocious smell? It’s been getting worse all day.”

“
It’s Tragoss Mor, Magic
Boy. It’s the city you’re smelling.”

“
But we haven’t even
entered the harbor yet.”

“
Open sewers and such,”
said Ob. “You get used to it after a while. Just keep breathing
through your nose, not your mouth. Smells worse, but less chance of
disease, I’m told.”

“
Open Sewers? Disease?
Someone, please put me out of my misery. What kind of a place is
this anyway?”

“
It’s an old port city,”
said Ob. “Most sea trade between Lomion and parts foreign passes
through here. It’s bigger even than Lomion City, but the buildings
are smaller. Mostly one or two stories, some are three; few are
more than that. Nice cobblestone streets, as long as you watch your
footing. Here’s the harbor now.”

Tanch turned to look. “Dead gods, it’s
huge.”

“
Biggest in the civilized
world,” said Ob. “More than one hundred piers, and berths for a
thousand or more ships this size, and several times that many small
ones. There’s no other port like it.”

“
How
will we ever find Sir Jude in all this?” said Tanch.
“
The White Rose
could be anywhere.”

Captain Slaayde climbed the ladder to the
Bridge Deck, accompanied by Tug. “I plan to pull into a slip in the
center of the harbor,” he said, his usual wide grin on his face. “I
assume you’ve no objection to that.”

“
Why not pull off to the
very end?” said Tanch. “Wouldn’t there be less chance we’d be
spotted by the wrong sort?”

“
And
more chance
The Grey Talon
would come aside and risk boarding us. I want my
ship in plain sight; there will be no safer
place.”

“
Why
would this
Grey Talon
accost us?” said Tanch.

“
She’s been shadowing us
all the way from Lomion City. I’ve no argument with her captain or
her owners, but I believe you people do. I will not risk my ship
unnecessarily.”