Rise of a Merchant Prince

Miranda took his hand and gripped it. “What do I say to your father?”

 

 

“That I love him, and say the same to my mother,” said Calis. “Then tell him that a demon is loose and there’s a third player in this. I think when he looks at this gem he will find it is not what it seems to be.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Let the Spellweavers examine this thing without my theories coloring their opinions.”

 

Miranda approached the object with caution and gently touched it. She muttered and cast about with her hands, then picked up the object. “I don’t like leaving you.”

 

Calis managed a brave smile. “I don’t like it much either. Now, if you can manage to give me a kiss without touching my injured side, do so, and get out of here.”

 

Miranda knelt and kissed the right side of his face, then whispered, “I’ll come back for you.”

 

“Don’t,” said Calis. “We won’t be here. We’ll find our own way out. I’ll get to that Brijaner ship, somehow. Get Duke William to send someone our way, just in case, but don’t you dare come back here for me. There are still other priests in these mountains, almost certainly, and even if we’ve killed their inner circle, they will be powerful enough to find you when you use your magic to return.”

 

Then he fingered the magic ward she gave him. “Besides, how will you find me?” His question was punctuated by another assault on the door.

 

She gripped his good hand with her left, while holding the glowing gem with her right. “Stay alive, damn it!”

 

“I will,” he promised. “Bobby!”

 

De Loungville said, “Captain?”

 

“Take a dozen men and go with them.”

 

De Loungville turned and shouted, “Squad two and squad three, come here!”

 

Twelve men left their searching of the hall and reported. “Go with the lady,” he instructed.

 

Calis said, “You too, Bobby.”

 

De Loungville turned and with an evil grin said, “Make me.” To the twelve men who waited, he pointed to the door and said, “Take the lady and the mercenary and get the hell out of here!”

 

The twelve men glanced at Miranda and Boldar. Boldar nodded once and set off in the van, and six men followed, while the other six waited until Miranda gave Calis’s hand one more squeeze and set off. Then they followed her.

 

Erik turned to Calis. “What do we do now, Captain?”

 

“How many men do we have left?” asked Calis.

 

Erik didn’t have to count. “Now that two squads are gone, we’re down to thirty-seven, including you.”

 

“Wounded?”

 

“Five, but they can still fight.”

 

“Help me up,” said Calis.

 

Erik gave him a hand up, then slipped his arm around his waist—keeping his hand on Calis’s belt, avoiding his burned flesh. Calis leaned his good side heavily upon Erik and said, “I need to see anything that may be an artifact of the Ancient Ones, the Dragon Lords.”

 

Erik had no idea how he would know if he stepped on such an artifact, but Calis said, “Remember how that helm felt when you touched it?”

 

Erik said, “I can’t forget that.”

 

“That’s what we’re looking for.”

 

For a tense fifteen minutes they combed the hall. A door with a large bar on it was discovered behind a tapestry. Once it was open, Calis said, “Stand back.” He forced Erik to let go and hobbled to the entrance. Inside sat a suit of armor. It glowed with a green light, and Erik felt the hair on his arms rise up once again.

 

Calis said, “This is the true repository of her power.”

 

Erik assumed he meant the goddess or lady Dragon Lord, or whatever she might be, but he was distracted by the creaking sounds of wood and groaning hinges as the Saaur continued to pound methodically at the heavy door.

 

Bobby said, “What do we do with it?”

 

“We destroy it,” said Calis.

 

He took a staggering step forward, and both Erik and de Loungville hurried to help him walk. Erik felt his skin tingle and fought back the urge to scratch as he came nearer the artifacts. Besides the armor, a set of emerald jewelry was displayed: a tiara, a necklace that was a full choker of huge stones, matching bracelets, and rings. Calis gently reached out and touched the breastplate. Then he snatched his hand back, as if his fingers had been burned.

 

“No!” he said.

 

“What?” asked de Loungville.

 

“It’s . . . wrong.” He quickly touched each item in the room and said, “It’s all contaminated. Something has . . . changed this.”

 

Suddenly, and for the first time since Erik had known him, Calis revealed fear in his expression. “I’m a fool! Almost as big a fool as the Pantathians.”

 

To Bobby he said, “We must destroy this as quickly as we can, but most of all, we must escape.”

 

 

 

De Loungville said, “You’ll get no argument from me, Captain.”

 

Raymond E Feist's books