Richard Knaak - The Fire Rose

His decision proved life-saving. The spot where Golgren had stood suddenly collapsed, the earth there tumbling away so rapidly, while fresh rocks and debris rained from above, that Idaria also had to jump aside or die. Unfortunately for the mastark-and Golgren-the path was even more blocked than before. The battered animal trumpeted and backed up to try again.

As it did, a fresh rockslide dropped upon the leviathan, burying the struggling beast as if it were no more than an insect. The mastark let out one last desperate call before being submerged and disappearing.

Golgren pulled farther back as loose scree pelted him from all directions. Compared to the disaster that had overwhelmed Barech and his force, the danger was over for him.

The rumble gradually faded, leaving only the settling dust to echo in Golgren’s ears. There was not a single sound of life within the area of the encampment, which was all but covered by the great collapse. Surely the warriors of Barech’s hand were all dead. Over a thousand lives had been wiped out in perhaps no more than a few moments.

As the Grand Khan let that dread thought sink in, he realized that the warriors had perished because of him .

“Is that it?” sang Ulgrod, one of the newest of the Titans and among the most vocal of those who had called repeatedly for the half-breed’s death. “He’s to remain untouched?”

The Titans had all gathered for the magical event. Safrag had insisted that a pooling of all their power would save any individual from being too taxed with the job. Reserves of elixir were extremely low and had to be rationed.

No one in the inner circle, not even the usually outspoken Ulgrod, had dared point out that the Black Talon appeared to be far more refreshed and powerful than the rest of them.

“Of course, he is to remain untouched,” Safrag responded like a soothing teacher. “The mongrel is our key to the Fire Rose. That was explained to all of you sufficiently.”

The rest eagerly nodded; no one wished to annoy Safrag. The Black Talon and the other Titans had committed themselves to his plan. The artifact was the key to their independence and utter domination-it was the key to everything they desired. If Ulgrod wished to take chances with his life by questioning Safrag’s decision, the rest were willing to let him.

They stood atop the mountains just west of where the column had met its doom, all but untouched by the wind rushing among the dire peaks. Even had it been bright daytime, neither Golgren nor any one else, not even the sharp-eyed Idaria, could have seen them. Yet the Titans could see far and with deadly accuracy, and watching their handiwork was part of the pleasure.

Destroying over a thousand lives had not been much more effort.

“But he’ll surely know it was us-that is all I mean, master! We’ve shown our hand.” Some of the other Titans cracked grins at his choice of words-considering Golgren’s own physical state-but Ulgrod scowled at them. “We have marked ourselves openly as his enemies. Why should he continue on a hunt for something that he knows we also desire?”

“Because he has little choice. And because he is Golgren. He will assume the key to his survival is finding the Fire Rose and wielding it first, against us.”

The others nodded, agreeing with the sense. Only Ulgrod dared speak again.

“And what if he does find the Fire Rose and wield it against us?”

The lead Titan only smiled more broadly. “He will not be able to do what he hopes. But we shall just let the mongrel find out that for himself, shall we not?” He raised his hands to the dark sky, a gesture immediately imitated by his gathered followers. “We shall thank him for preparing our people for our rule and finally, slowly, very painfully, put an end to him.”

As the others joined him in smiling at that particular happy thought, Safrag sang out the words of a new spell.

The Titans vanished.

Just as the Titans were unseen by Golgren and Idaria and the ill-fated warriors, so another figure had remained invisible to the sorcerers’ gathering.

More a shadow than substance, the figure stared for a moment at the spot upon which the sorcerers had stood. Although no taller than Golgren and perhaps just a shade smaller, the figure showed no trepidation at having been so near the full might of the towering spellcasters. Indeed, its long, oval eyes of white radiated only contempt for those who had just departed. From behind the lower half of the tightly bound golden cloth that obscured all its other features, there came a brief but throaty laugh.

The gray and black, hooded figure disappeared.

Tyranos awoke, momentarily uncertain as to where he was. Upon recalling, he tried to leap to his feet, only to fall back-fortunately onto a soft fur-as his head swam.

“Slowly,” warned his companion. “I’ve had my head struck often enough to have learned the proper manner by which to rise afterward.”

The wizard pushed himself up to his elbows and eyed the speaker. The Solamnian sat cross-legged to his left, as calm as if he were back among the highborn of his land and not stuck in a cave somewhere in the Vale of Vipers. Even his beard did not seem entirely out of place, for Stefan used his dagger to keep it fairly trim. There was nothing to suggest that the Knight of the Sword was concerned about anything .

“What happened? I remember you helping me and bringing me to the cave. But after that my mind draws a blank.”

“That was about the time you fainted.”

“I fainted? Never!”

Stefan put away his dagger. “I was warned you’d be full of pride. But I’ve had that failing too.”

“You were warned? By whom?”

The Solamnian cocked his head. “You know.”

The wizard sat straight up. His eyes darted back and forth as he better surveyed his surroundings. The cave entrance was several yards to his right, which meant that at a good sprint, he could reach it before the Solamnian could stop him.

But staring behind Stefan, Tyranos spotted something more valuable to him than a swift means of exit. Just beyond the Solamnian lay the wizard’s precious staff.

And next to Stefan side lay the knight’s sword. So unfortunately, the Solamnian could run him through before the wizard could shove him aside and grab the staff.

“Did you want it?” Stefan asked, reaching behind him and, without looking, taking up the very item his guest so coveted.

“You know I do.”

Stefan tossed it to him.

The wizard was so startled that he fumbled with the magical artifact before finally getting a good grip on it. He immediately pointed the crystal at the Solamnian.

“That really isn’t necessary,” Stefan assured him. “He would not have brought us together if either of us meant harm to one another.”

“Stop talking like that!” Tyranos managed to lurch to his feet. A calm Stefan also rose. The Solamnian did not try to reach for his sword. The spellcaster kept in mind that he still had a dagger close at hand which was good for tossing. “Mayhap he talks with you, but that’s no concern of mine.”

“He only wants to help you. You’re as much a follower of his as I am.”

“He, him, it! Call that one by the name he’s known best! Kiri-Jolith! My path diverged from his long ago, knight-or should I say cleric? That’s what you are claiming, isn’t it?”

Stefan shrugged. “I claim nothing. I’m only doing what he asks of me.”

Tyranos felt his legs buckling. Through sheer grit, he kept on his feet. “Well, he can ask all he wants of me. But I do what I desire, not what any god or cleric likes!”

“But you want to find the Fire Rose, don’t you?”