Troy Denning - The Crimson Legion

Rikus was just beginning to think the slave revolt might succeed when Urikite regulars began to appear at the other end of the boulevard. For a moment, the mul wondered where they had come from, then he remembered the troops that Hamanu had sent to seal the outside of the slave gate. As these fresh soldiers entered the fray, they cleared the street, driving those they did not kill toward Hamanu.

Thoughts of his helpless prisoner driven from his mind by the battle, Hamanu formed the remains of his Imperial Guard into a triple rank and began to press the slaves from his end of the street. As he marched down the boulevard, the sorcerer-king gestured at the two gateways that had been breached. A shimmering wall of force appeared in each, hardly visible save for occasional glints of yellow light flashing off the transparent barriers.

Rikus watched the destruction in disheartened silence, knowing that the slave revolt had been a failure, that the sorcerer-king regarded him as so slight a threat that he had been left unguarded. Hamanu’s response had covered every possibility, and the mul had done little except play into the sorcerer-king’s traps. He had no doubt that a few of his warriors would survive and escape, but only enough to return to Tyr and tell of the great disaster that had befallen them in Urik.

The blame for his legion’s defeat, the mul knew, did not lie with the soldiers themselves. Quarry slave, gladiator, dwarf, or even templar, they had all fought as bravely as any warrior could. They were still dying bravely-if foolishly-as Hamanu set about constructing simple but efficient death traps.

Each time Maetan had anticipated his schemes or pressed him into a corner during the long trek from Tyr, the mul had believed the misfortune to be the work of a spy, somone who had betrayed the legion to the mindbender. Now it was clear to Rikus that he was the one who had betrayed the warriors. Styan had died fighting, as had all the templars. Caelum was struggling against terrible odds to recover the Book of the Kemalok Kings and to protect Neeva. There was only one person left for Rikus to blame, and that was himself.

In vain, the mul tried to close the screams of the dying from his mind, but he could not do even that. The web kept his fingers closed firmly around the Scourge of Rkard, and as each voice cried out for the last time, it rang in his ears with the clarion knell of a wealthy lord’s death bell.

I wish I could take it all back .

There is no such magic , Tamar said. But you can still recover the book .

In the street below, Rikus saw several gray forms rise from the cobblestones. One of them glided to Gaanon’s still form, then slipped over the body. The half-giant’s corpse slowly rose, then lumbered to the fortress wall and climbed up the surface with a grace that it could never have managed in life.

Just kill me and be done with it , Rikus said. I’ll never give you the book .

You will keep your promise , Tamar responded. It is the one thing left to you .

Gaanon’s corpse reached the top of the fortress wall, then removed the cocoon cord from its merlon and slowly lowered Rikus to the ground. Once the mul lay face-first on the ground, the wraith abandoned the half-giant’s body atop the wall and slipped back down to the street on its own.

Another wraith limped up in a body so mangled that Rikus could not even recognize the gladiator to whom it had belonged. This one rolled Rikus onto his back, then used an obsidian dagger to laboriously cut the cocoon away from the Scourge of Rkard. When the sword was free, the wraith used the magical sword to slice away the rest of the web.

After he was free, Rikus remained on the ground, refusing to rise. The gladiator’s corpse grabbed him by the shoulder and hoisted him to his feet, then thrust the Scourge of Rkard at him. Rikus made no move to accept the sword.

You swore on Neeva’s life , Tamar reminded him. It is your choice whether we leave Urik with the dwarves’ book or with her corpse .

Rikus took the sword and screamed.

“Caelum, give me the book,” Rikus demanded, keeping a tight grip on the Scourge of Rkard.

The dwarf clutched the leatherbound volume closer to his chest. “I’ll carry it back to Kled myself.”

They stood on opposite sides of the Lubar townhouse’s central courtyard. It was a large enclosure full of earthenware pots brimming with dazzling, crescent-shaped blossoms. From a net on the ceiling dangled long strands of sweet-smelling moss, and several small trees sprouted from circles of ground left uncovered by the flagstone floor.

Rikus had sometimes been kept here as a young gladiator, so it had been an easy matter for him to make his way through the battle-torn streets of the noble quarter and find the townhouse. He had hoped to beat Caelum and Neeva to the mansion and recover the Book of the Kemalok Kings before they did, but he had not been so fortunate. By the time the mul had arrived, they had already fought their way inside, leaving the front door smoking and hanging off its hinges, the bodies of household guards and Tyrian warriors scattered over the foyer beyond.

Rikus lifted his sword and started across the compound, his black eyes fixed on Caelum.

Behind the dwarf Neeva stepped from a doorway leading deeper into the house. A blood-soaked bandage covered the wound on her stomach, and she looked as though she were ready to collapse at any moment. She was using a slave rope to lead a skinny old man with bound hands. The fellow had a wispy white beard, sad gray eyes, and wore a fine robe of green hemp. On his forehead was tattooed the Serpent of Lubar, identifying him as a special slave to be killed upon sight if found outside the family compound. If the old man was interested in the strangers in the courtyard, his eyes showed no sign of it.

When Neeva saw Rikus, her eyes lit with surprise and joy. “Rikus! How did you escape?”

The mul ignored her and continued to advance on Caelum. “I’ll have that book, dwarf,” he said. “I need to protect Neeva.”

“Protect her from what?” Caelum demanded. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously and fixed them on the gem in Rikus’s chest. “From the wickedness lodged in your breast?”

The dwarf shoved the book into Neeva’s hands, then thrust a hand skyward in preparation for casting a spell. “I have another way to protect her,” he snarled. “A more permanent way.”

Stop him! Tamar commanded. If he destroys me, Neeva’s life is forfeit-Catrion and the others will see to it .

Rikus was already rushing across the courtyard. He crashed through a pair of flower jars, then reached Caelum just as the cleric’s hand turned crimson with the sun’s energy. The mul pressed the tip of his sword against Caelum’s throat, and the dwarf pointed his glowing hand at the gladiator’s chest.

“Cast your spell,” Rikus snarled. “Before I die, I’ll kill you.”

Caelum did not activate his spell, but neither did he withdraw his hand.

“What’s this all about, Rikus?” Neeva demaded. She stepped from behind the dwarf, being careful to keep her body between the mul and the book. “You promised to return the book to Kemalok!”

“I can’t keep that promise,” the mul explained. As he admitted his failure, a deep sense of shame came over him-though he remained determined to do what he must to save Neeva. “Give me the book.”

“No!” Neeva dropped the slave rope and slipped the tome under her arm, drawing her sword with her free hand. “And if you kill Caelum, you’ll have to kill me, too.”

“Neeva, take the Book of the Kemalok Kings and leave,” said Caelum, his red eyes still fixed on Rikus’s face.