Linsha had been injured before. In her chosen way of life, there were always aching muscles, bumps, bruises, cuts, and scrapes. There had been that incident in Palanthas when the thief broke her arm, the attack in the Crystal Valley that left her battered and bruised, and of course, the duel with Ian Durne in Sanction that nearly killed her. She was familiar with pain. But never had she experienced anything so miserable and painful as this head injury. If she wanted to put words to it, she could have described it as a hangover brought on by dwarf spirits, complicated by a punch between the eyes and a vise clamped around her temples. After the first hour or so, she woke shivering in her damp clothes and lay in a half-doze. Her head still hurt abominably in a persistent thudding ache that refused to ease off or even change. Linsha tried to move, to warm her muscles, and found it was not worth the effort. She had no strength left in her limbs, and any muscle that moved did so stiffly and with complaint.
She finally gave up and lay still again. Sleep came and went in fitful starts. When she was awake and aware, she could convince herself that she had done nothing to hurt Sir Morrec. Her conscious mind had no recollection of the attack beyond a few vague images of rain and struggling figures. It wasn’t until she slept that her mind slipped into evil dreams and the agony of uncertainty brought images out of the depths of her injured brain, bits of memory, visions lit by brilliant light, and dark faceless figures that attacked her with swords only to vanish into impenetrable darkness.
After a long while, heavy footsteps on the stone floor disturbed her restless sleep and the grate of a key in the lock brought her fully awake. She opened one eye to see Sir Remmik glowering down at her. Two guards stood stolidly behind him; a scribe stood close by with a quill and paper in his hand. Linsha did not try to move.
“Majere,” Sir Remmik said. “You are awake. Good. I have come to hear your report on the events of last evening.”
Linsha felt surly with misery. “You should have asked me before you accused me in front of half the circle.”
He lifted a narrow eyebrow. “A slight exaggeration. And you were hardly in any condition to give a coherent report. Now you have had time to sleep, to gather your thoughts. Tell us what happened.”
Linsha glared at the scribe’s hand and his pen poised to repeat her words. Tell us what happened, she thought bitterly. If only it were that easy. “We left Iyesta’s council at sunset. We were caught in the storm. We were ambushed.” She said it in short, stark sentences. “Did you get all that?”
Sir Remmik pursed his lips. “I see. You are not going to cooperate. Very well.” He turned to go.
“No,” she said hoarsely. She held out a hand to him.
“You don’t understand. I wouldn’t kill Sir Morrec. I just don’t remember what happened.”
The Solamnic commander gave her a sharp nod. “Of course. Your injuries are worse than I thought. I will have a healer come look at you.” He turned on his heel and was gone as quickly as he came. The key turned in the lock; the footsteps echoed quietly down the corridor.
Linsha stared at the door for a long time wondering if that whole exchange had been another dream. Eventually, she dozed again.
The key turned in the lock once again, and this time Sir Hugh walked silently into the cell. He stared down at the sleeping woman for a moment. Although he had never told her, he deeply admired Lady Linsha for her courage and her abilities. He could not believe now that these charges made against her were true. But if there was no basis for the charge, why did the commander put her under arrest? Time would make things clear, he hoped, and meanwhile there was no reason why she should die of chills or lung infection. He laid a warm blanket over her and made his way out.
When Varia returned to Mirage, night had drawn its pall over the city. Torches burned along the wrecked waterfront where rescue efforts had turned to a hunt for the dead and a cleanup. She scanned the area carefully in the hope of seeing a dragon but was disappointed. The streets and skies were still ominously empty of their presence.
Gliding on silent wings, Varia circled the Citadel and, hoping against hope that Linsha would be in her room, swooped down and entered the narrow window in the officer’s quarters. Linsha’s room was dark and empty, and there were no signs of the Lady Knight having been there since the day before.
Varia hooted in dismay. She had to talk to Linsha. How was she going to get into the cells? They were located in a level below ground under the tower of the front gate in the inner ward. They had been built to be inaccessible by any means but a single stairs that led from the guardroom. No windows, no convenient skylight, nothing that would allow an eighteen inch bird to slip unseen into a prison cell to talk with a prisoner. And she doubted the guards would be accommodating enough to take Linsha’s pet owl down there and let it out again.
Perhaps the guards would bring Linsha out for some reason, and she could snatch a quick word with her friend. As an idea, it was better than nothing.
The owl left the empty room, made her way silently around the keep, and swooped noiselessly up to a roost on the guard tower she had used before. In the past, she had made a point of choosing several well-positioned roosts around the Citadel that afforded her excellent views of the wards, the walls, and the buildings and allowed her to hear much of what went on. The Knights in the garrison made no complaint of the owl because she helped keep the rodent population down and owls were believed to be good luck. Varia took full advantage of this open-minded opinion.
She pushed herself into the black shadows of the roofline and waited. She knew she could not be seen, and in a little while, anyone who might have noticed her fly into that spot would probably forget she was there. From this perch she could hear men talk on the parapet above the gate and anyone speaking just outside the guardroom. From here, she might learn what was happening with Linsha. The hour had already passed that Sir Remmik usually made his rounds, and the man was nothing hut punctual, so she would have to wait for the changing of the guards at midnight. Perhaps then she would hear some news, or if luck was with her, the guard room would he empty for a moment and she could slip down the stairs to the cells. Although that would be horribly risky, she wanted to try. Somehow she had to warn Linsha of the approaching fleet.
The wards and the gates remained quiet for several hours. The guards paced their beat and stood their posts and said nothing to one another. They seemed very tense to the watching owl, as if they knew something was wrong and did not know what to do about it. The gates to both walls remained firmly shut and no one left the castle. The city outside the walls remained something separate and apart, something that could pose a danger to the well-being of the garrison. No matter that torches flared along the ruined waterfront, or a few scattered fires burned in the neighborhoods, or the Legion and the militia were helping the bewildered and stricken citizens, or Iyesta’s guards were holding a massive, frantic search for the brass dragon and her companions. The Knights of Solamnia were safely secured behind their walls and all was well with them.
At midnight a small bell rang from the inner gate. The door of the main hall opened and light from within spilled out into the dark yard. Sir Remmik walked out to stand on the step and watch. Varia hissed at the sight of the man. Then she quieted and listened. Men had come out of the guardroom while others marched up to the walls. The changing of the guard was under way. She watched carefully while the squad below her marched toward the main keep to report to the new commander. As soon as they were halfway across the ward, she dropped from her hiding place and floated silently toward the door of the guardroom.
“Someone get that blasted owl,” she heard Sir Remmik say. Immediately, she stooped to the left away from the door as if she were chasing a mouse across the stone pavings.
Fortunately, no one moved to obey his order. The other Knights stood and watched as she pounced on something small and carried it back up to her roost.
Varia pushed back into the safety of shadows again and tossed the horse turd out of her talon to the gutter. Her feelings turned fiery hot. If her thoughts could have been made real, Sir Remmik would have been skinned alive and staked to an ant hill in the middle of the desert.
“Sir Hugh, I want you to make sure that owl is driven out of here. We do not need pets in this garrison. Kill it if you have to.” Sir Remmik shouted to the officer of the guard loudly enough so everyone could hear him.
There was a soft but collective gasp from all the watching men.
“Yes, sir,” Sir Hugh replied. Then he made a friend of one small intelligent owl by adding, “But the owl is no danger to us. In truth she kills her share of rats and mice that eat our corn.”
“Get a terrier. We do not need that owl flying around here. Once the accused is condemned, we will erase everything of hers from this castle. The owl goes, or it will be destroyed.”
Varia sensed there were a number of “buts” on the lips of those watching, yet they stood without speaking. Most of the Knights in the circle had learned to respect Sir Remmik, and Varia suspected it would take some time before they found the courage to stand up to him.
She watched and waited to see if any of the guards took the commander at his word and came to drive her out. Thankfully no one did. They changed the guards and went about their business. Eventually Sir Remmik went back inside. The door closed behind him, shutting in the yellow light.
Fifteen minutes passed while the castle settled back into its late night routine. Most of the Knights retired to bed. Hunger grumbled in Varia’s belly. She had flown all day and eaten nothing. Perhaps she should slip down to the stable for a meal. Obviously hunting on the castle grounds would not be a good idea for a while. She stepped on the edge of the roof, spread her wings, and just as she was about to take flight, two men walked out of the guardroom and stood in the shadows of the tower. Varia hurriedly moved back out of sight.
“Lady Linsha just awoke. She is asking for a meal. Has the healer seen to her? Is she allowed food?”
“Sir Johand had the healer check her earlier,” replied the second. “The Lady Knight sustained a concussion and will be uncomfortable for a few days, but she’ll recover. Sir Remmik ordered only bread and water for her. She is allowed no meals.”
Varia recognized the two speakers immediately. Sir Hugh, the officer of the watch this night, and Sir Pieter, one of the younger Knights. She craned down to better hear their soft voices.
“Sir, I don’t understand this,” said the younger voice. Sir Pieter. “Sir Remmik is the only Knight with ranking to sit on a council. Besides the Lady Linsha. How can he arrange a trial council so quickly? He hasn’t even called for an investigation first. Why is he so certain Lady Linsha killed Sir Morrec?”
Varia heard Sir Hugh sigh in the darkness. “I don’t know how or why he does this. We all know he dislikes her, but he is rushing this too fast.”
“And why does he keep us in the castle? It is our duty to help the city. I heard the dragons are still missing. Is anyone trying to find them? And the city! Did you see? The images are gone. The stablehands told me everyone thinks the disappearance is a bad omen. They said the whole city is in an uproar.”
Sir Hugh put out a hand to stop the flood of words. As officer of the guard, he knew this young man was not the only Knight in the castle with questions on his mind. The problem was there were no answers yet. “Look, we cannot know what to do until we have more answers. That will take time.”
“Lady Linsha will have no more time after tomorrow if Sir Remmik has his way,” Sir Pieter said.
“We will see what tomorrow brings,” Sir Hugh said, trying to sound calm and authoritative, which he certainly did not feel. “In the meantime, the cook should have the food ready for the nightwatch in the guardroom. I have asked him to add a little extra for the prisoner. If you will fetch it from the kitchen, you may take some food down to her.”
Sir Pieter saluted and hurried away to collect the food for the nightwatch. Varia stared after him, then she looked down and saw Sir Hugh looking directly at her.
“Your mistress is in serious trouble,” he said to her surprise. “You should stay out of the castle until this is over.”
She leaned further over the edge and winked one eye at him. He stared up in surprise, but she gave him no more time to wonder. She spread her wings and flew over the castle wall and into the night.
At least Linsha has a few supporters in the Citadel, Varia thought. And she would need them. Sir Remmik had already set up a council for trial. He certainly wasted no time. He would push this through while the circle was still confused and in an uproar about the city and the storm. By Chislev who would return, what would the Solamnics do if that invasion fleet hove into view?
Varia felt desperate now. Linsha was running out of time. For that matter, Mirage could he running out of time. With the city in an uproar, the Knights of Solamnia playing aloof, and the dragons missing, who would stand up to an invasion force?
She decided to make one more visit to Iyesta’s lair. If the dragon was still missing, she would have to devise a new plan.
Like an arrow, the small raptor flew the distance to the lair of the dragonlord and found it little changed from the morning, in spite of the hour. The huge doors were still open, the lair was still empty, and the courtyard was still crowded with people who wished to talk to Iyesta or who were planning search parties to find her.
Torches burned in sconces and in the hands of people who had come from the city, and their flickering yellow light illuminated the tension and-worry that was on everyone’s faces. Varia flew slowly overhead, wondering what to do. Without Iyesta to intercede, there was little hope for Linsha.
Unless… Varia spotted a group of three people she knew were Legionnaires. If there was any group in the city willing to help Linsha it might be the Legion of Steel. She would have preferred to talk to Falaius himself, but the other man Linsha often talked to, Lanther, was there. Varia did not entirely trust Lanther. She did not know him well, and his aura, when she tried to see it, was faint and difficult to read. The last time Linsha befriended a man with an aura like that, she had paid dearly for it. But Linsha had told Varia of Lanther’s past, and she had watched the way the man treated Linsha. He had a mind of depth and a wary personality hardened by years of warfare and struggle, which could explain his aura, and he had always given Linsha nothing but respect and friendship. He might be worth a try.
She winged to Lanther and landed gently on his shoulder, her talons gripping his tunic softly. To his credit, he did not leap up or shout in surprise. He simply turned and stared eye to eye with the owl on his shoulder.
“Good evening,” he said with some curiosity. “What are you doing here?”
Varia knew Lanther had no knowledge of her ability to talk, yet she appreciated a human who talked to animals as if they could respond.
“I need to talk to you about Linsha,” she whispered in his ear.
Lanther started at the owl’s dry, raspy voice. He glanced at his companions and forced a grin. “Excuse me while I put this owl back in the brush. It seems to be lost.” He walked a short way into an empty patch of shadow near a tree and offered his arm to Varia.
She stepped delicately onto his forearm. “Thank you. Linsha has said she could count on you. She said you were unflappable.”
“You almost changed that. I did not realize owls could talk.”
“I am different,” Varia replied. “I have come to ask you for help. You have heard of the ambush on the Knights of Solamnia during the storm last night?”
His expression folded into sadness. “Yes. I heard they were all killed.”
“All but Linsha. She was found still alive, but Sir Remmik has arrested her. He is convinced she killed Sir Morrec. He plans to bring her before a council of his arranging and have her convicted. If she is found guilty, by their law she can be hanged. It is a very dishonorable death for a Solamnic Knight.”
While the owl talked, the Legionnaire’s face slowly solidified into a mask of stone. “Will the other Knights try to help her?”
Varia ruffled her feathers in her own frustration. “I don’t think they will. They like her well enough, but Sir Remmik has most of them believing in his authority and he will not give them time to think or act.”
He nodded. “I will look into this. We will do what we can.”
“Has anyone found Iyesta yet?”
“No. The centaurs have looked everywhere they know to look. The golds and the silvers are also gone. This is very strange.”
“I have looked as well,” Varia said. “What I found is not good. There is a fleet of strange ships in a small bay perhaps twenty miles from here. I think it is an invasion force. Could you also have the Legion look into it? The city will need to be warned.”
Lanther looked down at her, his dark blue eyes lost in shadow. “A fleet. That’s strange. Have you told anyone else?”
She clicked her beak. “No. I talk to no one but Linsha.”
“And me.”
“This once. I risk much for her.”
“I will see you are not disappointed in your choice.”
She hooted softly in thanks and flew from his arm into the tree. She sidled down a branch into the depths of the limbs and leaves and watched him return to his companions. She was gratified that he had not questioned Linsha’s innocence, hut she wasn’t certain he would do anything with her information. He was talking to the others about something, though. The three men looked deep in conversation. Soon, one man left the group at a brisk walk and hurried out of the courtyard. Lanther and the other man talked for a moment longer, then both left together, their faces determined.
Varia watched them go, her hopes pinned on one man’s friendship to a woman of another order. She had done all she could in Mirage. It was time to consider one other ally. She dreaded the journey to find him. She would have to fly over Sable’s swamp at the risk of meeting the great black or some other horrible denizen of her foul home. It was that or cross the mountains of Blode, and Varia knew there was slim chance she could make it over the mountains in time—if at all. Iyesta said Lord Bight was busy with some Solamnic plan, but she needed Crucible, and she hoped that for the sake of Iyesta and Linsha, the big bronze might come south to help. If Lanther and the Legion could just delay Linsha’s trial, there might be time for her to fly to Sanction and bring Crucible back. If the Legion and the militia could hold off any attack by the strange fleet, there might be a city for her to come back to. It all depended on timing.
Varia snatched a rat just outside the dragon’s courtyard and had a quick meal. She was tired after a day of flying, and her wings were weary, but there were many miles between Mirage and Sanction, and Linsha was counting on her.
She finished quickly and sprang aloft into the darkness. It would be safer to fly at night. She could rest at sunrise. Until then, she could put miles behind her and be that much closer to Sanction.