Rise Of Empire (93 page)

“And what is that?”

“Drumindor,” he said simply, and followed the word with a swallow of wine, much of which spilled unnoticed down the front of his chin. “Erandabon needs a shelter from the storm, Galenti, a strong place, a safe place. For many moons the ants fight for Drumindor. They know it can stand against the coming wind. Time is running out, the sand spills from the glass, and they are desperate to flee the islands. Erandabon promises he can help them get it. He could have fifty thousand, perhaps a hundred thousand ants, Galenti. They are everywhere in the islands, but Erandabon will make do with these. Too many ants spoil a picnic, eh, Galenti?” He laughed.

A servant refilled the wineglass Hadrian had barely touched.

“What do you know about Merrick Marius?” Hadrian asked.

Erandabon spat. “He is dirt. He is pig. He is pig in dirt. He promise weapons … there is none. He promise food for the Many … and there is none. He makes it hard for Erandabon to control the ants. Erandabon wish he was dead.”

“I might be able to help you with that, if you tell me where he is.”

The warlord laughed. “Oh, Galenti, you do not fool Erandabon. You would do this for you, not for Erandabon. But it matters not. Erandabon does not know where he is.”

“Do you expect him to visit again?” Hadrian pressed.

“No, there be no need. Erandabon will not be here long. This place is old. This is not good place for storm.” He rolled a fallen block of granite from the balcony. “Erandabon and his ants will go to the great fortress, where even the Old Ones cannot reach us. Erandabon will watch the return of the gods and the burning of the world. You could have a seat beside Erandabon. You could lead the ants.”

Hadrian shook his head. “Drumindor will be destroyed. There will be no fortress for you and your ants. If you release me and my friends, we can stop this from happening.”

Erandabon roared a great laugh. “Galenti, you make big joke. You think Erandabon is dumb like the ants? Why do you try to tell Erandabon such lies? You will say anything to leave here with your dog friends.”

He finished off the leg by ripping the meat from the bone and chewed it with an open mouth, spitting out bits of gristle.

“Galenti, you offer Erandabon so much help. You must see how great Erandabon is and wish to please. Erandabon likes this. Erandabon knows of something you can do.”

“What is that?”

“There is a Ghazel chieftain—Uzla Bar.” He spat on the
ground. “He defies Erandabon. He challenge Erandabon for control of the ants. Now, with no food for the Many, he be big problem. Uzla Bar attacks caravans from Avryn, stealing the weapons and the Many’s food. He do this to weaken Erandabon in the eyes of the ants. Uzla Bar challenge Erandabon to fight. But Erandabon is no fool. Erandabon knows none of his warriors can win against the speed and strength of the Ba Ran Ghazel. But then the stars shine on Erandabon and bring you here.”

“You want me to fight him?”

“The challenge is by Ghazel tradition. Erandabon has seen you fight this way. Erandabon think you can win.”

“Who will I be fighting with? You?”

He shook his head and laughed. “Erandabon does not dirty his hands so.”

“Your warriors?”

“Why should Erandabon risk his warriors? Erandabon need them to control the ants. Erandabon saw those dogs with you. They fight good. When choice is death, all dogs fight. If you lead the dogs, they will fight well. Erandabon has seen you win in the arena with worse dogs. And if you lose—Erandabon is same as before.”

“And why would I do this?”

“Did you not offer to help Erandabon twice already?” He paused. “Erandabon can see you like your dogs. But you and them kill many of Erandabon’s men. For that you must die. But … if you do this … Erandabon will let you live. Do this, Galenti. The heavens would be less bright without all its stars.”

Hadrian pretended to consider the proposal in silence. He waited so long that Erandabon became agitated. It was obvious the warlord had nearly as much riding on this fight as Hadrian did.

“You answer Erandabon now!”

Hadrian remained quiet for a few moments longer and then said, “If we win, I want our immediate release. You won’t hold us until the full moon. I want a ship—a small, fast ship—fully provisioned and waiting the moment the battle is won.”

“Erandabon agrees.”

“I also want you to look into finding an elven girl who is called Allie. She may have been brought with the last shipment from Avryn. If she’s alive, I want her brought here.”

Erandabon looked doubtful but nodded.

“I want my companions freed, treated well, and all of our weapons and gear returned to us immediately.”

“Erandabon will have the dogs you fought with brought here so you can eat with them when Erandabon is done. Erandabon also give other weapons you might need.”

“What about the others? The men that did not fight with me in the hall.”

“They no kill Erandabon’s men, so they no die. Erandabon have deal with them. They stay until deal is done. Deal goes good, they be let go. Deal no good, they be food for the Many. Is good?”

“Yes. I agree.”

“Excellent, Erandabon is very happy. Erandabon get to see Galenti fight in arena once more.” Erandabon clapped twice and warriors appeared on the balcony, each reverently carrying one of Hadrian’s three swords. More approached with the rest of their gear. Erandabon took Hadrian’s spadone and lifted it.

“Erandabon has heard of Galenti’s famous sword. It is weapon of the ancient style.”

“It’s a family heirloom.”

He gave it to Hadrian. “This …” the warlord said, picking
up Royce’s dagger, “Erandabon has never seen such a weapon. Does it belong to the small one? The one who fought next to you?”

“Yes.” Hadrian saw the greed in Erandabon’s eyes. “That’s Alverstone. You don’t want to think of keeping
that
weapon.”

“You no fight if Erandabon keeps?”

“That too,” Hadrian told him.

“That one is a
kaz?”

“Yes, and as you saw, he’s a good fighter. I need him and his weapon.” Hadrian strapped his swords back on, feeling more like himself again.

“So, the Tiger of Mandalin will fight for Erandabon.”

“It looks that way,” Hadrian said, then sighed.

“So how does this work?” Royce asked, checking over his dagger.

The sun had risen on a gray day. The seven of them ate together on the balcony. The food—leftovers from the warlord—was now suitable for the dogs.

Hadrian said, “The battle will be five against five. I was thinking Wesley and Poe ought to be the ones to sit out. They’re the youngest—”

“We will draw lots,” Wesley declared firmly.

“Wesley, you’ve never fought the Ba Ran Ghazel before. They’re extremely dangerous. They’re stronger than men—faster too. To disarm them you literally have to, well, disarm them.”

“We will draw lots,” Wesley repeated, and finding a dead branch he snapped seven twigs—two shorter than the others.

“I have to fight. It’s part of the deal,” Hadrian said.

Wesley nodded and tossed one of the long twigs away.

“I’m fighting too,” Royce told him.

“We need to do this fairly,” Wesley protested.

“If Hadrian fights, so do I,” Royce declared.

Hadrian nodded. “So it will be between you five.”

Wesley hesitated, then threw aside another twig and held his fist out. Wyatt pulled the first stick, a long one. Poe drew next and got the first short twig. He showed no emotion and simply stepped back. Grady drew—a long one. Derning drew last, receiving the other short stick, leaving the last long twig in Wesley’s fist.

“When do we fight?”

“At sunset,” Hadrian replied. “Ghazel prefer to fight in the dark. That gives us the day to plan, practice a few things, and take a quick nap before facing them.”

“I don’t think I can sleep,” Wesley told them.

“Best give it a try anyway.”

“I’ve never even seen a Ghazel,” Grady admitted. “What are we talking about here?”

“Well,” Hadrian began, “they have deadly fangs, and if given the chance, they will hold you down and rip with their teeth and claws. The Ghazel have no qualms about eating you alive. In fact, they relish it.”

“So they’re animals?” Wyatt asked. “Like bears or something?”

“Not really. They’re also intelligent and proficient with weapons.” He let this sink in a moment before continuing. “They’re usually short-looking, but that’s misleading. They walk hunched over and can stand up to our height, or taller. They are strong and fast and can see well in the dark. The biggest problem—”

“There’s a bigger problem?” Royce asked.

“Yeah, funny that, but you see, the Ghazel are clan fighters, so they’re organized. A clan is a group of five made up of a
chief, a warrior, an oberdaza, a finisher, and a range. The chief is usually not as good of a fighter as the warrior. And don’t confuse a Ghazel oberdaza with a Tenkin. The Ghazel version wields real magic, dark magic, and he should be the first one we target to kill. They won’t know we’re aware of his importance, so that might give us an edge.”

“Leave him to me,” Royce announced.

“The finisher is the fastest of the group, and it’ll be his job to kill us while the warriors and oberdaza keep us busy. The range will be armed with a trilon—the Ghazel version of a bow—and maybe throwing knives as well. He’ll likely stay near the oberdaza. The trilon isn’t terribly accurate, but it’s fast. His job won’t be so much to kill us as to distract. You’ll want to keep your shield arm facing him.”

“Will we have shields?” Grady asked.

“Good point.” Hadrian looked over the weapons provided. “No, I don’t see any. Well, look at it this way: that’s one less thing to worry about, right? The clan is well organized and experienced. They will communicate through clicks and chattering that will be gibberish to us, but they can understand everything we say. We’ll use that to our advantage.”

“How do we win?” Wyatt asked.

“By killing all of them before they kill all of us.”

They spent the morning hours sparring and practicing. Luckily, they were all adept with basic combat. Wesley had trained with his brother and as a result was a far better swordsman than Hadrian had expected. Grady was tough and surprisingly fast. Wyatt was the most impressive. His ability with a cutlass showed real skill, the kind Hadrian recognized instantly as something he called
killing experience.

Hadrian demonstrated some basic moves to counter likely scenarios. Most dealt with parrying multiple attacks, like those from both mouths and claws, something none of them had any training in. He also showed them how to use the trilon Erandabon had provided, and each took his turn, with Grady showing the most promise.

Hungry after the morning’s practice, they sat to eat once more.

“So, what’s our battle plan?” Wyatt asked.

“Wesley and Grady will stay to the rear. Grady, you’re on the trilon.”

He looked nervous. “I’ll do the best I can.”

“That’s fine. Just don’t aim anywhere near the rest of us. Ignore the battle in the center of the arena and concentrate your arrows on the oberdaza and the range. Keep them off balance as much as possible. You don’t have to hit them, just keep them ducking.