Dragonlance 15 - Dragons Of A Fallen Sun (2 page)

now leave this place, and swiftly. Let us turn back and make our

report."

The horses had entered the southern valley with such reluc-

tance that in some cases their riders had been forced to dismount

again and cover their eyes and guide them, as if from a burning

building. Both man and beast were clearly eager to be gone. The

horses edged their way back toward the road by which they'd ar-

rived, their riders sidling along with them.

Ernst Magit wanted to leave this place as much as any of

them. It was for precisely that reason that he decided they would

stay. He was a coward at heart. He knew he was a coward. All his

life, he'd done deeds to prove to himself that he wasn't. Nothing

truly heroic. Magit avoided danger when at all possible, one

reason he was riding patrol duty and not joining with the other

Knights of Neraka to lay siege to the Solamnic-controlled city of

Sanction. He undertook to perform cheap, petty actions and

deeds that involved no risk to himself but that would prove to

himself and to his men he wasn't afraid. A deed such as spending

the night in this cursed valley.

Magit made a show of squinting up at the sky, which was a

pale and unwholesome yellow, a peculiar shade, such as none of

the Knights had ever before seen.

"It is now twilight," he announced sententiously. "I do not

want to find myself benighted in the mountains. We will make

camp here and ride out in the morning."

The Knights stared at their commander incredulously, ap-

palled. The wind had ceased to blow. The song no longer sang in

their hearts. Silence settled over the valley, a silence that was at

first a welcome change but that they were growing to loathe the

longer it lasted. The silence weighed on them, oppressed them,

mothered them. None spoke. They w~it~ for their commander

to tell them he'd been playing a little jokt! on them.

Talon Leader Magit dismounted his horse. "We will set up

camp here. Pitch my command tept near the tallest of those

monoliths. Galdar, you're in chargd of setting up camp. I trust

you can handle that simple task?"

His words seemed unnaturally loud, his voice shrill and rau-

cous. A breath of air, cold and sharp, hissed through the valley,

swept the sand into dust devils that swirled across the barren

ground and whispered away.

"You are making a mistake, sir," said Galdar in a soft under-

tone, to disturb the silence as little as possible. "We are not

wanted here."

"Who does not want us, Galdar?" Talon Leader Magit

sneered. "These rocks?" He slapped the side of a black crystal

monolith. "Ha! What a thick-skulled, superstitious cow!" Magit's

voice hardened. "You men. Dismount and begin setting up camp.

That is an order."

Ernst Magit stretched his limbs, making a show of being re-

laxed. He bent double at the waist, did a few limbering exercises.

The Knights, sullen and unhappy, did as he commanded. They

unpacked their saddle rolls, began setting up the small, two-man

tents carried by half the patrol. The others unpacked food and

water.

The tents were a failure. No amount of hammering could

drive the iron spikes into the hard ground. Every blow of the

hammer reverberated among the mountains, came back to them

amplified a hundred times, until it seemed as if the mountains

were hammering on them.

Galdar threw down his mallet, which he had been awkwardly

wielding with his remaining hand.

"What's the matter, minotaur?" Magit demanded. "Are you

so weak you can't drive a tent stake?"

"Try it yoursel£ sir," said Galdar.

The other men tossed down their mallets and stood staring at

their commander in sullen defiance.

Magit was pale with anger. "You men can sleep in the open if

you are too stupid to pitch a simple tent!"

He did not, however, choose to try to hammer the tent

stakes into the rocky floor. He searched around until he located

four of the black, crystal monoliths that formed a rough, irreg

ular square.

"Tie my tent to four of these boulders," he ordered. "At least

I will sleep well this night."

Galdar did as he was commanded. He wrapped the ropes

around the bases of the monoliths,. all the while muttering a

minotaur mcantation meant to propItiate the spmts of the rest-

less dead.

The men also endeavored to tie their horses to the monoliths,

but the beasts plunged and bucked in panicked terror. Finally,

the Knights strung a line between two of the monoliths and tied

the horses up there. The horses huddled together, restive and

nervous, rolling their eyes and keeping as far from the black

rocks as possible.

While the men worked, Ernst Magit drew a map from his sad-

dlebags and, with a final glare around to remind them of their

duty, spread the map open and began studying it with a studious

and unconcerned air that fooled no one. He was sweating, and

he'd done no work.

Long shadows were stealing over the valley of Neraka,

making the valley far darker than the sky, which was lit with a

flame-yellow afterglow. The air was hot, hotter than when they'd

entered, but sometimes eddies of cold wind swirled down from!

the west, chilling the bones to the marrow. The Knights had

brought no wood with them. They ate cold rations, or tried to eat!

them. Every mouthful was polluted with sand, everything they

ate tasted of ashes. They eventually threw most of their food!

away. Seated upon the hard ground, they constantly looked over

their shoulders, peering intently into the shadows. Each man

had his sword drawn. No need to set the watch. No man in-

tended to sleep.

"Ho! Look at this!" Ernst Magit called out with triumph. "I

have made an important discovery! It is well that we spent some

time here." He pointed at his map and then to the west. "See that

mountain range there. It is not marked upon the map. It must be

newly formed. I shall certainly bring this to the attention of the

Protector. Perhaps the range will be named in my honor."

Galdar looked at the mountain range. He rose slowly to his

feet, staring hard into the western sky. Certainly at first glance the

formation of iron gray and sullen blue looked very much as if a

new mountain had thrust up from the ground. But as Galdar

watched, he noticed something that the talon leader, in his eager-

ness, had missed. This mountain was growing, expanding, at an

alarming rate.

"Sir!" Galdar cried. "That is no mountain! Those are storm

clouds!"

"You are already a cow, don't be an ass as well," Magit said.

He had picked up a bit of black rock and was using it like chalk

to add Mount Magit to the wonders of the world.

"Sir, I spent ten years at sea when I was a youth," said Galdar.

"I know a storm when I see one. Yet even I have never seen any-

thing like that!"

Now the cloud bank reared up with incredible speed, solid

black at its heart, roiling and churning like some many-headed

devouring monster, biting off the tops of the mountains as it over-

took them, crawling over them to consume them whole. The chill

wind strengthened, whipping the sand from the ground into eyes

and mouths, tearing at the command tent, which flapped wildly

and strained against its bonds.

The wind began to sing again that same terrible song, keen-

ing, wailing in despair, shrieking in anguished torment.

Buffeted by the wind, the men struggled to their feet. "Com-

mander! We should leave!" Galdar roared. "Now! Before the

storm breaks!"

"Yes," said Ernst Magit, pale and shaken. He licked his lips,

spit out sand. "Yes, you are right. We should leave immediately.

Never mind the tent! Bring me my horse!"

A bolt of lightning flashed out from the blackness, speared the

ground near where the horses were tethered. Thunder exploded.

The concussion knocked some of the men flat. The horses

screamed, reared, lashed out with their hooves. The men who

were still standing tried to calm them, but the horses would have

none of it. Tearing free of the rope that held them, the horses gal-

loped away in mad panic.

"Catch them!" Ernst screamed, but the men had all they could

do to stand upright against the pummeling wind. One or two

took a few staggering steps after the horses, but it was obvious

that the chase was a futile one.

The storm clouds raced across the sky, battling the sunlight,

defeating it handily. The sun fell, overcome by darkness.

Night was upon them, a night thick with swirling sand.

Galdar could see nothing at all, not even his own single hand. The

next second all around him was illuminated by another devastat-

ing lightning bolt.

"Lie down!" he bellowed, flinging himself to the ground. "Lie

flat! Keep away from the monoliths!"

Rain slashed sideways, coming at them like arrows fired from

a million bowstrings. Hail pounded on them like iron-tipped

flails, cutting and bruising. Galdar's hide was tough, the hail was

like stinging ant bites to him. The other men cried out in pain and

terror. Lightning walked among them, casting its flaming spears.

Thunder shook the ground and boomed and roared.

Galdar lay sprawled on his stomach, fighting against the im-

pulse to tear at the ground with his hand, to burrow into the

depths of the world. He was astounded to see, in the next light-

ning flash, his commander trying to stand up.

Sir, keep down!" Galdar roared and made a grab for him.

Magit snarled a curse and kicked at Galdar's hand. Head

down against the wind, the talon leader lurched over to one of the

monoliths. He crouched behind it, used its great bulk to shield

him from the lancing rain and the hammering hail. Laughing at

the rest of his men, he sat on the ground, placed his back against

the stone and stretched out his legs.

The lightning flash blinded Galdar. The blast deafened him.

The force of the thunderbolt lifted him up off the ground,

slammed him back down. The bolt had struck so close that he had

heard it sizzle the air, could smell the phosphorous and the sul-

phur. He could also smell something else-burned flesh. He

rubbed his eyes to try to see through the jagged glare. When his

sight was restored, he looked in the direction of the commander.

In the next lightning flash, he saw a misshapen mass huddled at

the foot of the monolith.

Magit's flesh glowed red beneath a black crust,like a hunk of

overcooked meat. Smoke rose from it; the wind whipped it away,

along with flecks of charred flesh. The skin of the man's face had

burned away, revealing a mouthful of hideously grinning teeth.

Glad to see you're still laughing, Talon Leader,Galdar mut-

tered. You were warned."

Galdar scrunched down even closer to the ground, cursed his

ribs for being in the way.

The rain fell harder, if that were possible. He wondered how

long the raging storm could last. It seemed to have lasted a life-

time, seemed to him that he had been born into this storm and

that he would grow old and die in this storm. A hand grabbed

hold of his arm, shook him.

"Sir! Look there!" One of the Knights had crawled across the

ground, was right next to him: "Sir!" the Knight put his mouth to

Galdar's ear, shouted hoarsely to make himself heard over the

lashing rain and pounding hail, the constant thunder and, worse

than rain or hail or thunder, the song of death. "I saw something

move out there!"

Galdar lifted his head, peered in the direction the Knight

pointed, peered into the very heart of the valley of Neraka.

"Wait until the next lightning flash!" the Knight yelled.

"There! There it is!"

The next lightning flash was not a bolt but a sheet of flame

that lit the sky and the ground and the mountains with a purple

white radiance. Silhouetted against the awful glow, a figure

moved toward them, walking calmly through the raging storm,

seeming untouched by the gale, unmoved by the lightning, un-

afraid of the thunder.

"Is it one of ours?" Galdar asked, thinking at first that one of

the men might have gone mad and bolted like the horses.

But he knew the moment he asked the question that this was

not the case. The figure was walking, not running. The figure was

not fleeing, it was approaching.

The lightning flared out. Darkness fell, and the figure was

lost. Galdar waited impatiently for the next lightning flash to

show him this insane being who braved the fury of the storm. The

next flash lit the ground, the mountains, the sky. The person was

still there, still moving toward them. And it seemed to Galdar that

the .song of death had transformed into a paean of celebration.

Darkness again. The wind died. The rain softened to a steady

downpour. The hail ceased altogether. Thunder rumbled a drum-

roll, which seemed to mark time with the pace of the strange

figure of darkness drawing steadily nearer with each illuminating