Paul Kemp - Shadowstorm

"No doubt," Tamlin agreed.

They moved north toward the Khyber Gate. The huge wood and iron slabs had been closed for the night, but the work of reinforcing them continued. The workmen, laboring by torch and glowball, halted in their labors to look upon the Hulorn and the Shadovar. Tamlin and Rivalen dismounted and received a briefing from Mernan, the stooped, elderly engineer supervising the work. Tamlin had less than a score of quality engineers in his service. He valued them as highly as platinum.

"New crossbeams reinforce the gates, my lord," Mernan said, gesturing at the oiled iron beams that reinforced the gates at the top and bottom. "A second bolt will soon be forged. The hinges are strong and well set into the stone. They are unassailable from the outside."

Tamlin nodded, pleased at the rapid progress.

Rivalen strode over to the gate and the workmen parted before him, eyes wide. He placed a hand on the wood and shadows flickered from his fingertips. The workmen murmured and whispered, their tone distrustful.

To Tamlin, Rivalen called, "I can provide spellcasters who can further bolster the strength of the gates."

"The wood is enspelled," Mernan answered irritably. "Bolt and hinges, too. Our mages saw to that."

"Not well enough," Rivalen said. He placed both hands on the huge gate and recited a series of arcane words. Despite his understanding of magic, Tamlin did not recognize the spell. The workmen backed off, fearful.

Mernan protested loudly. "My lord," he said to Tamlin.

Rivalen completed his spell and parted his hands. In response to his gesture, an arch-shaped opening formed at the base of the gate, large enough to give passage to three horsemen abreast. The workmen gasped. Mernan's protest stuttered into silence. A group of a half-dozen refugees on the other side of the gate rose from their bedrolls and wagons to stare wide-eyed at the magical aperture.

Rivalen held his palms outward, uttered a single magical word, and the aperture disappeared as if it had never been. Mernan rushed forward to touch the wall where the hole had been.

"It is solid," he said.

Rivalen nodded at the engineer and turned to Tamlin, though he spoke loud enough for all to hear. "The overmistress's forces will not have a mage among them who is my match in the Art, but the spell I just used requires not mastery, but mere competence."

Tamlin took Rivalen's point, took it gratefully. He said, "We welcome any additional magical aid you can offer."

"Indeed," said Mernan, with grudging respect. Even many among the workmen nodded.

"I will see to it," Rivalen said.

The two remounted and continued along Selgaunt's walls to its other gates. Everywhere it was the same-teams of workmen labored into the night to improve the city's defenses. Tamlin took heart from their diligence. They passed several squads of armed men. The Helms and Scepters had been collapsed into one force. Rorsin and Onthul were doing good work in training them to act cohesively, and using them to drill the militiamen.

"The city is nearly ready," Rivalen observed. "You have capable men and women here."

Tamlin nodded, though he did not feel ready. "When will your additional forces arrive?"

"Five hundred of our elite fighters will arrive as soon as they can be spared. Construction of their barracks is nearly complete, and the conversion of the tavern to our embassy continues apace. The Most High has our forces engaged in other matters, but those will wind down soon enough."

"We will have time," Tamlin said, feeling the chill in the air. "Mirabeta will wait until the spring to attack."

"Perhaps," Rivalen answered, and Tamlin heard doubt in his tone.

"You think she will move sooner? This year?"

"I do not know, Hulorn. The overmistress is unpredictable."

Tamlin shook his head. "I dislike this. Settling in for a siege."

"It is the only course, at the moment," Rivalen answered. "Mirabeta's forces outnumber yours substantially. If the overmistress attacks, Selgaunt must hold for a time. That is all. Aid will come. My people stand with yours, and I with you."

The words brought Tamlin great comfort. He looked around at the towering walls and the strong men and women who worked them. "If we must hold, we will hold," he said, and tried to believe it.

Later, as they prepared to part, Tamlin said to Rivalen, "I would like to discuss your faith with you again. Sometime soon. I would know more of Shar than the tavern tales I've heard in the past. She, at least, has sent you to us while the priests of other gods abandon the city."

"She has, indeed," Rivalen said.

Tamlin nodded, said, "For now I would ask that you keep the nature of your faith quiet. As you said, it could be misunderstood."

Rivalen reached out and put a hand on Tamlin's shoulder. The Prince's shadows curled around Tamlin's arm. "Of course, my Lord Hulorn. And I look forward to further conversations. I am always eager to teach new students about my faith."

Tamlin chuckled.

"You are amused?" Rivalen asked.

"Yes," Tamlin said, still smiling. "But not with you. I was just imagining Vees's reaction if he were to learn the nature of your faith."

Rivalen joined him in laughter.

After bidding farewell to the Hulorn and stabling his mount, Rivalen discarded his false face-that of mentor and father figure to the malleable Uskevren boy-and activated his sending ring. He reached out for Vees Talendar.

Nightseer? Vees asked.

Where are you, Dark Brother?

Vees delayed a moment before answering, In the Lady's sanctuary, praying. Shall I-

Rivalen ended the magical connection, pulled the night about him, and whispered, "The secret sanctuary of the Lady on Temple Avenue."

The shadows answered him and swept him in a breath from the street in the Noble District to the secret fane of Shar on Temple Avenue. He appeared in the main worship hall, amongst the benches. At the front of the hall, a single candle burned on the dark altar, the stone surface draped in a cloth depicting a black disc ringed in purple.

A cloaked form knelt before the altar-Vees Talendar. He held his hand before his face, eyeing the amethyst ring on his finger, no doubt awaiting a response from Rivalen. When he did not receive it, he shook his head, turned back to the altar, and whispered the Thirteen Truths, beginning with the first.

"Love is a lie. Only hate endures. Light is blinding. Only in darkness do we see clearly. Forgiveness is false…"

Rivalen stepped into the shadow space and materialized behind Talendar. He took the nobleman by his shoulders and jerked him to his feet. Talendar exclaimed in surprise.

Rivalen hissed into the nobleman's ear, "In the darkness of the void, we hear the whisper of the night."

"Nightseer! It is you. I am-"

Rivalen, much taller than Talendar and as strong as an ogre in darkness, took Talendar's hair in one fist and lifted him off the ground. The nobleman squealed in pain and hung in his grasp like a marionette, kicking.

Rivalen began again. He spoke slowly, enunciating each word. "In the darkness of the void-"

"Heed its voice," Talendar said through gritted teeth, swatting at Rivalen's hand. "Heed its voice, Nightseer."

Rivalen dropped him to the floor in a heap. Talendar scrambled to his feet, rubbing his scalp, breathing heavily. He turned to face Rivalen. "If I have given you offense-"

The shadows around Rivalen churned, reflecting his anger. "If you lie to me before this altar, Dark Brother, I will kill you where you stand."

Talendar's face fell. "I would not lie to you, Nightseer."

"Erevis Cale is a shade," Rivalen said. "This you knew. Yet you did not see fit to tell me. Why?"

Talendar's eyes widened with surprise and fear, then moved to the floor, the wall, anywhere but Rivalen. He started to speak, stopped, started again, stopped. Rivalen knew that Talendar must have rehearsed an answer to the question a hundred times, but the rehearsed answer was a lie, and Talendar dared not speak it.