Margaret Weis - The Second Generation

“Sort of,” Tanin said cautiously. “Go on.”

“So you take the strangers,” Palin finished, “and send them to the castle naked and weaponless, knowing they’re bound to lose, yet hoping in your heart they’ll win.”

“That makes sense, in a weird sort of way,” Sturm admitted, looking at Palin with undisguised admiration. “So, what do we do now?”

“Yes, Palin,” Tanin said gravely. “I can fight minotaurs and draconians... I’d rather be fighting minotaurs and draconians,” he added, breathing heavily, the heat and humidity taking their toll on the big man, “but I’m lost here. I can’t fight chaos. I don’t understand what’s going on. If we’re going to get out of this, it’s up to you and your magic, Little Brother.”

Palin’s eyes stung with sudden tears. It had been worth it, he thought. It had been worth this whole insane adventure to know that he had finally won his brothers' respect and admiration and trust. It was something a man might willingly die to achieve... For a moment, he did not trust himself to speak, but walked on in silence, leaning on the Staff of Magius, which felt oddly cool and dry in the hot, humid jungle.

“I don’t know what to do,” he said after a moment when he had his voice back. “But if we’re going to get out of this, if s up to all of us.” Reaching out to his brothers, Palin hugged each of them unashamedly. “We’re together, and that counts for much. Somehow, we’ll make this come out right!”

Glancing over at the dwarf, Palin was disconcerted to find Dougan regarding him with a wolfish leer on the black-bearded face. The dwarf didn’t say anything aloud but, giving Palin a wink, he formed words with his lips.

“Wanna bet?"

It was nearing sundown when they reached the outer walls of Castle Gargath. The walls shifted aspect just like the castle. Sometimes they appeared to be built of bricks. When the group looked again, however, they were hedges, then iron bars. The change was so rapid that it made one dizzy to watch.

On reaching the base of the shifting walls, the warriors left them, despite another recruiting speech from Tanin. The speech was a halfhearted attempt at best. The fact that he was giving it practically naked lessened his enthusiasm, plus he was fairly certain it was bound to fail. Nonetheless, he made the attempt.

“Come with us! Show this evil lord that you are men! That you intend to stand up to him and fight! Show him you are willing to risk your lives in defense of your homes!”

Sure enough, the speech had not worked. The moment the shadow of the shifting castle walls fell over them, the warriors backed away, looking up at it in terror. Shaking their heads and muttering, they fled back into the jungle.

“At least leave us your spears?” Sturm pleaded.

That didn’t work either.

“They need their spears,” Tanin said, “to make certain we don’t hightail it back to the ship.”

“Aye, you’re right, lad,” said Dougan, peering into the trees. “They’re out there, watching us. And there they’ll stay until—” He stopped.

“Until what?” Palin demanded coldly. He could still see the dwarf’s leer and hear the unspoken words, and he shivered in the jungle heat.

“Until they’re certain we’re not coming back. Right?” Sturm said.

“Now, laddie, we’ll be coming back,” Dougan said soothingly, stroking his beard. “After all, you have me with you. And we’re comrades—”

“Share and share alike,” Tanin and Sturm both said grumpily.

“The first thing we have to do is make some weapons,” Tanin continued. Thick jungle vegetation grew all around them. Strange-looking trees of various types, festooned with hanging vines and brightly colored flowers, grew right up to within a foot of the wall. And there the vegetation stopped. “Not even plants come near this place,” he muttered. “Palin, give me your knife.”

“Good idea,” said the young mage. “I’d forgotten about it.” Rolling up his white sleeve, Palin fumbled at the dagger in its cunning leather thong, which held it to his forearm and was supposed to—at a flick of its owner’s wrist—release the dagger and allow it to drop into Palin’s hand. But the cunning thong was apparently more cunning that its master, for Palin couldn’t get the dagger loose.

“Here,” he said, flushing in embarrassment and holding out his arm to Tanin, “you get it.”

Keeping his smile carefully concealed, Tanin managed to free the dagger, which he and Sturm used to cut off tree branches. These they honed into crude spears, working rapidly. Day was dying a lingering death, the light fading from the sky, leaving it a sickly gray color.

“Do you know anything of this Lord Gargath?” Tanin asked Dougan as he worked, whittling the point of the green stick sharp.

“No,” said the dwarf, watching in disapproval. He refused to either make or carry a wooden spear. “A fine sight I’d look if I’m killed, standing before Reorx with a stick in my hand! Naw, I need no weapon but my bare hands!” the dwarf snarled. Now he was rubbing his chin, pacing back and forth beneath the strange walls that were now made of shining black marble. “I know nothing of this present Lord Gargath, save what I could find out from those cowards."

Dougan waved his hand contemptuously at the long-gone warriors.

“What do they say?”

“That he is what you might expect of someone who has been under the influence of the Graygem for years!” Dougan said, eyeing Tanin irritably.

“He is a wild man! Capable of great good or great evil, as the mood—or the gem—sways him. Some say,” the dwarf added in low tones, switching his gaze to Palin, “that he is a wizard, a renegade, granting his allegiance to neither white, nor black, nor red. He lives only for himself—and the gem.”

Shivering, Palin gripped his staff more tightly. Renegade mages refused to follow the laws and judgments of the Conclave of Wizards, laws that had been handed down through the centuries in order to keep magic alive in a world where it was despised and distrusted. All wizards, those who fol lowed both the paths of good and of evil, subscribed to these laws.

Renegades were a threat to everyone and, as such, their lives were forfeit.

It would be Palin’s duty, as a mage of the White Robes, to try to reclaim the renegade or, if that failed, to trap him and bring him to the conclave for justice. It would be a difficult task for a powerful wizard of the White Robes, much less an apprentice mage. Those of the Black Robes had it easier. “You, my uncle, would have simply killed him,” Palin murmured in a low voice, leaning his cheek against his staff.

“What do you think he’s done with the women?” Sturm asked anxiously.

The dwarf shrugged. “Used them for his pleasure, tossed them into the volcano, sacrificed them in some unholy magic rite. How should I know?”

“Well, we’re about as ready as we’ll ever be, I guess,” Tanin said heavily, gathering up a handful of spears. “These look like toys,” he muttered. “Maybe the dwarf’s right. If we’re facing an evil wizard gone berserk, we might as well die fighting with dignity instead of like some kid playing at knights and goblins.”

“A weapon’s a weapon, Tanin,” Sturm said matter-of-factly, taking a spear in his hand. “At least it gives us some advantage ”

The three brothers and the dwarf approached the wall that was still changing its aspect so often it made them dizzy to watch it.

“I don’t suppose there’s any point trying to find a secret way in,” Tanin said.

“By the time we found it, if d likely be turning into the front door,” Dougan agreed. “If we wait here long enough, there’s bound to be an opening.”