Sentinelspire

Chapter Twenty-Two

Sauk found them waiting just inside the main gate. Carvings decorated the arch beyond them. One side was all fair maidens with hair flowing down their backs, their arms reaching out to handsome men on the opposite side, their braids and beards carved in the style of the ancient Imaskari. The two sides' outstretched arms seemed both to reach out to the other and to bid welcome to those entering the gate.

Talieth wore that dress of hers that seemed half silk and half copper mesh. Sauk was warrior enough to know it was all for show; that pretty metal lace would never turn a blade. Talieth didn't need such things. The boy wore clothes suited for traveling.

Taaki padded along just behind Sauk. After several ministrations from the Fortress’s healers and a long rest, her mood and energy were back to normal, though the cavity where her eye had once been was now no more than a puckered scar of pinched flesh and fur.

As Sauk and Taaki emerged from the late morning shadow cast by the statue of a four-headed hound, Talieth saw him. She spoke something to Lewan and approached Sauk, stopping him well away from the boy.

"You have it?" she said.

With one finger Sauk pulled at the fine silver round his neck, and the medallion emerged from the loose sackcloth shirt he wore. The medallion was only slightly larger than a coin, plain and unadorned save for the image of a broken ram's horn carved into the middle.

"Keep it on you at all times," she said. "And don't let the boy out of your sight."

"On the mountainside, I can see a long ways."

Talieth frowned at Sauk. "You're taking him to the woods. When you're out there, if you can't see him, you've gone too far. Understood?"

Sauk nodded and dropped the medallion into his shirt. "Anything else?"

Talieth glanced over her shoulder to make sure Lewan wasn't listening. He didn't seem to be. He had one hand protectively over a leather pouch at his belt, the other held a walking staff, and he was staring at the tiger, who was staring right back. The boy didn't look happy to see Taaki.

"One thing," whispered Talieth. "You recall our conversation on the mountainside?"

Sauk gave her a flat look. "Yes."

"Be on your guard out there, Sauk," she said. "Just because you're this close to home doesn't mean you're safe. He mi-" Her breath caught in her throat. She swallowed and finished. "He might still be alive. If he comes back, if he finds the boy out there…"

"Talieth." Sauk towered over her. The top of Talieth's carefully braided hair did not even reach to his chest. Looking down into her eyes, he saw more than a little of the young woman-no, she'd barely been more than a girl then-who had fallen in love with Kheil so many years ago.

"What?"

"I saw the earth swallow him. He's dead, Talieth."

Talieth's eyes went cold, and for a moment Sauk considered reaching for the long knife he had sheathed behind his back.

"You've said so before," she said, her voice still low. "He's proved you wrong once. Do not let your guard down, Sauk. Not for any reason. You or your damned tiger."

"You know me," said Sauk. "I never let my guard down."

Talieth watched him for a moment, perhaps searching his face for any hint of impudence or sarcasm. Apparently satisfied, she nodded at the long, thin bundle Sauk carried over one shoulder. "What is that?"

"Something between me and the boy."

Talieth's eyebrows rose.

"Nothing like that," he said. "He's safe from me." When Sauk said no more, Talieth shrugged and told him, "Let me know what happens out there." "I will."

"The moment you return."

Sauk grunted and walked past her. "Neye, Taaki!" he called. He passed Lewan without sparing him so much as a glance and walked into the yawning tunnel through the canyon wall that marked the gateway out of the fortress. "Come along, boy," he said. "Some of the things in the shadows are just statues. But some aren't. So stay close."

Behind him, he heard the boy scramble to catch up.

That walk past the main gate was one of the longest Lewan had ever taken. Thirty paces in, and the darkness encased him. The open gateway behind was a great panorama of light, open air, and greenery. But before and all around him was only blackness, thick and close. Lewan walked blind, wedged between the half-orc in front of him and the tiger behind. Taaki nudged him once or twice with her muzzle, urging him closer to Sauk.

The farther they walked, the closer the air pushed on him. He could feel the stone closing in around them through the many twists and turns and down shallow steps. He could tell by the varying echoes of their footsteps that they sometimes passed corridors to either side. Occasionally they took one,

Sauk never hesitating or slowing his pace. Once, Lewan heard something skittering away before them-something that sounded like the feet of an insect, but far larger. Lewan wondered if any of the great spiders out of the Khopet-Dag had ever made it this far east.

"How much farther?" he whispered.

"A ways," said Sauk. "We'll be in the Gallery of Stone Faces soon. Stay by me. I'm warded to pass, but if you stray…"

Sauk didn't finish the thought, and Lewan wasn't sure he wanted him to.

"C-can you see?" Lewan could not, though from the way the stone threw their voices back at him, he knew the walls to either side were very close, but if there was a ceiling above, it was very, very far away.

"I see fine," said Sauk, "though I could walk this way with my eyes closed."

The floor was smooth as any Lewan had walked inside the fortress, though a fine layer of sand and grit crunched beneath their boots. After a while he was surprised to realize that he could see. Not much at first-just a large shape outlined before him. It was Sauk. Really no more than a deeper darkness against a slightly-less-darkness beyond, but there was no mistaking it. Light ahead.

A bit farther on, the walls began to widen, only a bit at first, but then they fell back altogether and the echoes of their footsteps came from far away. Lewan could see quite well. Tiny shafts of sunlight, stray motes of dust wafting here and there, rode on thin sunbeams that fell from the ceiling far, far above. It was barely any light at all, but Lewan's eyes were so used to the dark, his pupils so wide and hungry for any illumination at all, that he could take in most of what Sauk had called the Gallery of Stone Faces. A huge room-larger than any king's court; larger even than many castles' outer courtyards-of unworked stone. But in the midst of the gallery, set haphazardly across the floor in no discernible pattern, were dozens and dozens of statues. A few were smaller than Lewan, but most were at least man-sized, and some were far larger. All were hideous-demons, devils, monsters, misshapen beasts, twisted humanoid forms, and more. The statues seemed to look down on Lewan and his two companions as they walked the maze between them. Again Lewan heard something skittering in the nearby gloom.

Lewan figured they were about halfway across the gallery when he caught sight of a moth as it flew between the sunbeams. The gray light caught in its wings, making them seem unnaturally bright in the dimness. Lewan watched it flutter off into the darkness. He had just lost sight of it off to his right when he heard a sharp snap! from that direction, very much like the sound of jaws closing over a moth that had flown too close.

Perhaps it was just being in the dark for too long, but as they walked, Lewan began to think he could see movement out of the corners of his eyes-stone heads that turned to watch as they passed, a muscular manlike thing with a bat's face whose grin seemed to grow after Lewan's first glance. Now and then, he thought he could hear a scraping, like the twisting of stone, over the sounds of their boot heels on the grit-covered floor. But each time Lewan whipped his head around to follow the movement or look in the direction of the sound, he saw nothing but leering faces, motionless and cold as stone.

When they emerged into the full light of day again, Lewan breathed a great sigh of relief. After a life lived in the open, sleeping under stars or boughs more often than not, Lewan had begun to feel trapped by all that stone.

Squinting as his eyes readjusted to the light, Lewan turned back to see the way they had come. Around the passage, carved into the stone itself, was a monstrous, leering face. Its open mouth formed the entrance to the tunnel, and its eyes, lacking both iris and pupil, seemed to stare down upon them.

The tiger emerged from the yawning mouth and padded over to her master.

"Taaki, gu th'nukh," said Sauk, and the tiger bounded away.

Lewan watched her go, and saw that they had emerged into a narrow canyon that wound its way down the mountainside. The walls were so tall that only a narrow strip of sky broke the view of stone, and all the canyon lay in cool, dry shadow.

Sauk turned to Lewan. "Talieth said you need woods, preferably with running water."

"Yes," said Lewan.

"Then follow me."

The half-orc switched the long, narrow bundle to his other shoulder, then turned and began walking down the canyon. Lewan followed.

Early afternoon though it was, the sun had long since sunk behind the jagged cone of Sentinelspire when Sauk led them into the woods-a steep, narrow valley choked with larch trees and smaller scrub brush. Lewan had neither seen nor heard the tiger since they'd left the tunnel. A stream rushed down the valley, tumbling over rocks and roots, but here and there it widened into little pools, none more than a few feet deep.

"This suits your needs?" Sauk asked him.

Before Lewan could answer, a low rumble rose in the earth beneath them, then grew to a roar, and the entire mountain shook beneath their boots. Sauk stumbled but managed to keep his feet. Lewan was not so lucky. He sat down hard on an exposed tree root and decided to stay there. Under him, he could feel the wood of the tree humming like a plucked harp string. Rocks tumbled down the mountain.

A final, long groan like dying thunder, and the trembling stopped. Small stones continued rattling down the mountainside, and in the distance Lewan thought he heard boulders crashing to canyon floors. Lewan saw the half-orc looking up the mountain and followed his gaze. There, between boughs full of their new spring clusters of light green needles, Lewan could see the jagged cone of Sentinelspire. White steam, looking almost like a wisp of cloud, was rising into the wind, which quickly blew it away.

Sauk turned to Lewan, seemed to consider something, then walked over to where he sat on the root. The half-orc towered over him, deep in thought.

Finally Sauk pulled the long bundle he'd been carrying over one shoulder and handed it to Lewan. "Take this," he said.

Lewan did. "What is it?"

"See for yourself."

Something hard was wrapped inside the canvas. Lewan untied the knot and unwound the leather cord. He pulled back the cloth, and one glance inside told him what it was.

"My master's bow."

"It seems a fine weapon," said Sauk. "I considered keeping it myself. Even if I weren't smart enough to recognize those runes as words of power in whatever language you leaf-lovers use in your rites, I could still feel the power in that bow. But it isn't for me."

"It is sacred to the Oak Father," said Lewan. "Only those sworn to him may waken its power."

"You know how to"-Sauk's lip twisted in a sneer, but Lewan caught a spark of curiosity in his eyes — "waken its power?"

Lewan shrugged.

Sauk looked down on him, and when Lewan said nothing more, the half-orc snorted and said, "Keep your secrets, then." His countenance grew suddenly grave, and he said, "Take the bow and go."

"What?" Lewan blinked, not sure he had heard Sauk correctly.

"I have no arrows for you," said Sauk. "That would have roused suspicion."

"You're… you're letting me go?"

Sauk took a medallion out of his shirt and pulled off the necklace from which it hung. He held it out to Lewan. "Go fast. Wear this until you're at least five leagues from the mountain, then bury the damned thing and keep running. If your god favors you, maybe you can make it far enough before…"

Lewan looked at the medallion. It seemed rather plain, almost crude, the edges uneven. Engraved in the middle of it was the image of a broken ram's horn. "What is it?" he asked.

"It will keep the mountain's guardians away from you," said Sauk. "And it will keep the Old Man from seeing you until it's too late for him to do anything about it."

"What about Talieth?"

"Leave her to me."

Lewan could tell by the flatness of the half-orc's eyes that confronting Talieth was not something he looked forward to.

Lewan did not take the medallion. He looked at the half-orc and asked, "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you helping me escape?" asked Lewan, because he wasn't sure the half-orc was. That talk that Sauk and Talieth had together before they left the Fortress-what had that been about? Was this some sort of test? If Lewan took the medallion and started walking, would Sauk cut him down? Or would he watch him go, that sly smile on his face, then summon the tiger? Lewan remembered all too well the corpses in the garden, and at least one of them had been mauled and torn apart by a tiger.

Sauk lowered the hand holding the medallion and shrugged. "Why? That's not hard. Talieth's plan has failed. Our one hone was finding Kh-er, your master, and that druid's relic he carried. But your master's dead."

"She hopes that I will be able to use Erael'len's powers," said Lewan.

Sauk snorted. "I mean you no insult, Lewan, but you are just a boy. It was a fool's hope to think that even your master could help us. Given years of study and training… who knows? I think I see a hunter's heart in you." He looked at the mountain top. "But we don't have years."

"That's it?" said Lewan. "You mean to send me on my way while you go back to die? That's your plan? That's what passes for honor with you? Some sort of noble death?"

Sauk looked down on him, an amused look on his face. "Nothing noble about death, boy. Death means you lost. If I die, I'll die fighting, and the Beastlord will greet me with my enemy's blood on my teeth."

They looked at each other in silence for a moment, then Sauk held out the medallion again.

"Here," he said. "Put leagues behind you before dark."

Lewan looked at the medallion, then up at Sauk. "I can't," he said.

"Why?"

"It's… complicated." Lewan stared at the nearby stream, at the sparkling of sunlight on the water.

Sauk's words had stung him. You are just a boy, A fool's hope. Was he right? Was Lewan a fool to think he had any hope in learning Erael'len's secret? Still… I think I see a hunter's heart in you. Lewan thought that was as close to high praise as the half-orc ever came. Would he ever be anything more than a scared boy if he ran now? Even if it was a fool's hope, he had something else calling him back to the fortress.

"Women are complicated," said Sauk.

Shocked that Sauk seemed to have guessed his thoughts, Lewan looked up at the half-orc. Sauk grinned and shrugged. "There are many secrets in the Fortress of the Old Man, but who is sharing whose bed is seldom one of them. You think you love her, but you don't. That feeling you're feeling isn't love. It's just the excitement of the first legs you've ever parted."

Anger rose in Lewan, and he stood. He'd intended to face Sauk, but even as he came to his full height, he found himself looking up at the half-orc's chin, and fear joined his anger. He swallowed, took a deep breath, and said, "You don't know what you're talking about."

"No?" Sauk smirked.

"No."

Sauk looked down at the medallion in his and sighed. "Your death is on your own head, then. I tried. One thing, though." "What?"

"Best not to tell Talieth of this conversation. I did you a kindness with the offer. Now do me one and forget my offer. Agreed?"

Lewan felt a pang of pride that he managed to hold the half-orc's gaze. "You're afraid of her," he said. It wasn't a question. "Damned right I am," said Sauk. "You should be too."