its lance at the Mindak. Daubendiek leapt into Gathrid's hand, slashed across, altered the weapon's path.
But not enough. Its fiery head grazed the Mindak's left arm. Ahlert roared in pain and anger.
A mob fell on the Toal, raging and tearing like wild dogs, wielding weapons both magical and mundane. Mohrhard Horgrebe, possessed, chopped and slashed, its sword a deadly blur. Its armor turned both blades and sorceries.
Gathrid spared but a glance for the Mindak before wading in.
Ahlert neutralized the lance's wizardry with incantations forced through clenched teeth. He saved himself, but not his arm. In seconds it withered to a dry, useless appendage.
But for Gathrid's quickness he would have died. "Damn me!" he muttered. "And I was expecting it, too."
Feeling a hundred feet tall, Gathrid shoved through the Toal's attackers. He let Daubendiek have its head. The Dead Captain held its ground.
Nevertheless, the match was less even than had been their previous encounter. Gathrid and the Great Sword were melding. In moments Daubendiek slew the Toal's blade. It perished with a great metallic scream. Daubendiek drove in over the lifeless steel.
The Toal felt much as had the one taken in the Savards: cold, evil, and under it all a flicker of despair that was all that remained of Mohrhard Horgrebe, once a champion of wide renown.
A shadow rolled over the canyon. A cold wind whipped dust and leaves up in violent little wind-witches. Mocking laughter made the hills shake.
The thing that had circled above raced toward the west, into a blood-red setting sun. With the flying beast, or in it, went the thing that had possessed the corpse of Mohrhard Horgrebe.
The Mindak seized an enchanted bow and spellbound silver arrow. He sped the shaft after the flyer. His ruined arm betrayed him. The arrow fell to earth less than a mile away.
Nieroda had foreseen the alliance. She had planned for the eventuality. Confirmation was on its way to her.
Gathrid's Toal-haunt gurgled merrily.
"Good show, boy. Good show."
"What the devil?"
Theis Rogala pushed through the crowd. He bowed to Gathrid and the Mindak—then sprang back when he saw the light in Gathrid's eyes.
The youth considered running the dwarf down. Then he shrugged. There would be little point. He went looking for Loida instead.
His feelings had been correct. Rogala had been tailing him.
Chapter Eleven
Senturia
Three days passed before Ahlert recovered sufficiently to travel. Gathrid spent the time with Loida or wandering through the hidden city. He avoided Rogala religiously. He discovered that the hopes of his eastward journey had been but shadows cast by futility. Excepting Belfiglio's Eye, the rich ore of this motherlode had, it seemed, been transferred to the Mindak's palaces at Senturia. In Ansorge he saw only ruins and more ruins.
The Mindak's people showed him where the Toal had been unearthed, in caverns far beneath Ansorge proper. The twelve crypts were incredibly old. When Gathrid viewed the place where Nieroda had slept he fancied he smelled sour evil still.
He returned from the caverns early the third day, after learning that they would be leaving next morning. As he joined Loida he thought he saw someone slipping through the rocks near their slightly separate encampment. "Who was that?"
"Rogala."
"What was he doing here?"
"Talking to Gacioch."
"There's a pair," Gathrid muttered. "Look, I don't want him hanging around."
"Grouch." Loida made a sour face at him. "How did it go down there today?" She had accompanied him once, had found the ruins too spooky for further visits.
"A whole lot of nothing. What they've found is already gone. What they haven't you can't see. The murals and reliefs and stuff don't make much sense."
"Lord Telani told me we're leaving tomorrow."
"I heard. I'm glad. I'm getting restless." He picked up a stick, drew figures in the dust. "Movement becomes an end in itself."
"You can't run away."
"I know. I tried to leave the Sword down there today. It wouldn't let me. When I got fifteen feet away, I started shaking. It hurt. It made me run back and grab it."
"That's spooky."
"That's terrifying. I can't live with it and I can't live without it."
"Don't think about it." She leaned over a small fire and simmering pot. "A soldier gave me a rabbit and some vegetables." She raised the pot lid. Stew smells tantalized Gathrid's nose.
"Smells good."
"Then just think about supper."
"How soon?"
"I don't know. What do I know about cooking? I just did what the man told me."
Exasperated, Gathrid asked, "How long did he say?" He wished she would discourage these soldiers more.
"All right. Another half-hour, I guess."
"I'm going for a walk,