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.There were not many of them, only eighteen.They had been wiped out, to a man.Their squires lay in a row behind them.These, too, had all died.There was no one left to tend tothe dead except for their enemies.A hot wind swirled among the sand and tall grasses, lifted and plucked at the torn and blood-spattered capes that had been draped across the men's lifeless forms.A knight officer supervised the burial detail."They fought bravely." He pronounced the dead knights' epithet."Outnumbered, taken by surprise, they might have turned and run and none the wiser.Yet they stood their ground, even when theyknew they must be defeated.Lord Ariakan has ordered us to bury them with full honor.Lay outeach man properly, place his weapons at his side.The ground is too marshy to bury the bodies.Iam told a cave has been found, not far from here.We will entomb the bodies within, seal it up andmark it as a resting place for brave men.Have you examined the bodies? Is there any way we candetermine their names, Knight Warrior Brightblade?""There was one survivor, sir," the knight reported, saluting his superior."Indeed? I hadn't known.""A white-robed mage, sir.He was captured at the last.""Ah, of course." The subcommander was not surprised.Mages fought at the rear of armies, casting their magical spells from safe places, since they were prohibited by the constraints of their art from wearing armor or carrying more conventional weaponry."Odd that Knights of Solamnia shouldhave been using a wizard.That would have never happened in the old days.Still, times change.This mage must know the names of the dead.Have him brought here to identify them, that we maydo them honor when we lay them to rest.Where is he now?""He is being held by the Gray Knights, sir.""Go and fetch him, Brightblade.""Yes, sir.At your command, sir."The knight left on his errand.His task was not an easy one.The battlefield atop the sea wall was now the only quiet place on the southern coast of ThoradinBay.The vast stretch of black sand was awash with men and equipment.Shore boats lined thebeaches, rubbing side against side, and more boats came ashore each moment.The brutes, undercommand of dark knights, were unloading stacks of equipment and supplies, everything frommassive coils of rope to water casks, from quivers of arrows to huge shields, marked with the deathlily-insignia of the Knights of Takhisis.Horses were being ferried ashore; their handlers keeping close to the beasts, soothing their terrorand promising that their long voyage would end soon.Blue dragons, ridden by knights, patrolledthe skies, though Lord Ariakan did not have much fear that his landing would be furtherinterrupted.Scouts reported that what few people lived in the nearby fishing village east ofKalaman had all fled.They would certainly report his arrival, but by the time any substantial force could be musteredand sent against him, he would not be here.His beachhead established, he was planning to marchswiftly west, to seize the deep-water port city of Kalaman.Once Kalaman fell, he would summonthe rest of his troops from Storm's Keep, the knights' impregnable fortress to the north, in theTurbidus Ocean.With a deep-water port for his ships, his forces massed, he would launch tikemain assault up the Vingaard River and into the heart of the Solamnic Plains.His objective: to take the one place on Krynn that had never fallen to enemy assault, the place he'd spent many long years as prisoner.Honored prisoner, to be sure, but a captive nonetheless.To takethe one place that he saw nightly, in his dreams.And he could take it, he had no doubt.In thatplace, they had taught him the secrets of their strength.He already knew the secret of theirweakness.Lord Ariakan's goal-the High Clerist's Tower.And from there, the world.Brightblade picked his way through the confusion, almost deafened by the shouts of the officers,the curses and grunts of the brutes bent beneath heavy loads, the frightened whinnying of thehorses and, occasionally, from above, the shrill call of a blue dragon to its comrade.The early morning sun blazed; already the heat was intense, and it was only the beginning ofsummer.The knight had removed most of his armor once the battle was over, but still wore hisbreastplate and bracers, the death lily marking him as a Knight of the Lily.A dragon rider, he hadnot taken part in the battle, which had been fought on the ground.Following the battle, his talonhad been chosen to take responsibility for the dead on both sides, and thus, though second incommand, he was placed in the position of errand runner.Brightblade did not resent this, however, just as his commander did not resent being placed incharge of burial detail.It was part of the discipline of the Knights of Takhisis that they served their Dark Queen in all capacities and gave her glory in the doing.Halfway across the beach, Brightblade was forced to stop and ask where the Gray Knights, theKnights of the Thorn, had set up their headquarters.He was grateful to discover that they hadsought shelter in a grove of trees."I might have known," he said to himself, with a slight smile."I never knew a wizard yet who didn't relish what comfort he could find."Brightblade left the crowded, hot, and noisy beach and entered the relatively cool shade of thetrees.The noise receded, as did the heat.He paused a moment to revel in both the coolness and thestillness, then continued on his way, anxious to discharge his duty and leave this place, no matterhow cool and inviting.He was now beginning to experience the customary sense of unease anddisquiet all those not endowed with the gift of magic feel around those who are.He found the Knights of the Thorn some distance from the beach, in a grove of tall pine trees.Several large wooden chests, carved with intricate arcane symbols, rested on the ground.Apprentices were sorting through these chests, ticking off items listed on sheets of parchment.Theknight gave these chests a wide berth.The smells issuing from them were sickening; he wonderedhow the apprentices could stand it, but supposed they must grow used to it over time.The ThornKnights carried their own equipment, always.He grimaced at a particularly foul odor emanating from one of the chests.A glance within revealedrotting and unsavory objects, best not defined.He turned his gaze away in disgust, searched for his objective instead.Through the shadows of the trees, he saw a patch of white, gleaming in a shaft of sunlight, yet partially obscured by gray [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]