local tavern, where Ba”al”uz expected to derive abundant pleasure from a goodly intake of
alcohol, and perhaps as much again from observing the Outlanders at recreation, which Ba”al”uz
felt sure would further bolster his own sense of superiority.
Instead, he discovered something vastly more interesting.
Ba”al”uz and his companions did not wish to advertise their true origins, so they were
dressed in the manner of Adab, and speaking with Adabian accents, which the power of Kanubai
(which now infused all of them, if the Eight to a lesser extent than Ba”al”uz) allowed them to
assume flawlessly.
They arrived at the tavern fairly early, and thus were able to find comfortable seating at
the rear, where they would not be crowded and which was also conveniently close to the
dispensing tap for the ale. The tavern keeper served them himself, then asked if they minded if
he sat down with them for five or ten minutes to rest his aching legs and to share a glass of ale,
and to gossip, which Ba”al”uz was soon to discover was the tavern keeper”s primary reason for
existence.
For a while the nine Isembaardians sat and drank as the tavern keeper chatted. There
seemed to be no stopping him. They learned who was sleeping with whom within the entire
Outlands; they discovered who had hobbled the favorite at the recent festive race meeting; they
were quietly astounded to realize that Outlanders rather liked to expose their bottoms to people
as a gesture of great rudeness.
“When the arses start flashing in here,” the tavern keeper said, a righteous frown on his
face, “then that”s the time I start knocking heads together.”
“Uh huh,” said Ba”al”uz, incapable of further comment.
“It gets even worse when they add a fart or two to the insult,” said the tavern keeper.
Ba”al”uz paused with his glass partway to his lips, appalled. By the great Kanubai, did
any race more deserve to be completely overrun and obliterated than the Outlanders?
The tavern keeper sighed, despondent at the outrages he had to police. “I am just grateful
that when the Lady Ishbel Brunelle stayed two houses down she did not think to visit my humble
establishment. I cannot imagine what she would have thought had someone pushed his hairy arse
into her face.”
Brunelle? Brunelle?
Ba”al”uz froze. That had been Kanubai, whispering frantically in his mind. He looked at
his companions. Without exception, they were all staring at the innkeeper in disgust. None of
them had heard Kanubai”s whisper.
The tavern keeper sniffed, wiping his nose with a corner of his apron. “Not that any of
the high and mighty Brunelle family would ever visit with me.”
“The Brunelle family?” Ba”al”uz said. Kanubai was still whispering madly in his head,
now formless words of which Ba”al”uz could make neither head nor tail.
What he did know, though, was that this woman was of great interest to Kanubai.
The tavern keeper nodded. “Yes. The Brunelle family. Own most of Margalit, if you ask
me, and I”ve heard they control vast fortunes in the Central Kingdoms as well. Ishbel was the
surviving child of a terrible time. Plague took her entire family…”
As he continued prattling on about Ishbel”s life story, one part of Ba”al”uz” mind was
taking in everything the innkeeper said, while another part was trying to work out how he could
use this information to further his cause with Kanubai.
“Someone took her in, don”t know who,” the innkeeper was saying, “but lo and behold
she turned up at Baron Lixel”s residence a couple of months ago…that”s the big graywood house
three down…had a really nice veranda put on it two years ago. If ever you need a good builder I
can thoroughly recommend—”
“Ishbel Brunelle,” said Ba”al”uz, desperately trying to return the conversation to the
matter at hand.
The very, very important matter at hand.
“Ishbel—is she still in residence?” Ba”al”uz added.
The tavern keeper shook his head. “Left weeks ago, with Lixel and his entire entourage.
Heard she”s off to marry some high and mighty prince of the west.” He shrugged. “Why she
couldn”t have picked a nice boy from her hometown, I don”t know.”
Possibly she didn”t appreciate the flashing arses, thought Ba”al”uz. Didn”t want them
with her soup at supper.
Again he glanced about at his companions. They all watched him carefully, intuiting he”d
experienced some kind of revelation at the name of the woman.
“Who?” said Ba”al”uz. “Which prince?”
“The Escatorian king. Maximilian. Lixel is his ambassador to the Outlands.”
“She”s gone to Escator?” Ba”al”uz said.
“To Pelemere, I think. Then on to Kyros. Leisurely journey. Maximilian is meeting her in
Pelemere, and they”re taking their time in getting back to Escator. Having a good honeymoon, I
expect. Making happy friends with all the kings along the way in case Maximilian needs to
borrow money later.”
“You seem to know a great deal about their plans,” said one of the Eight.
The tavern keeper shrugged. “I know a great deal about everything, don”t I? But one of
Lixel”s men used to come in here and drink and gossip. That”s how I know.”
That night Ba”al”uz sat and meditated, opening his mind to Kanubai.
The whispers came, very faintly at first, but they gained in strength as the night wore on.
There was much incoherent muttering, but there were several concepts that stood out.
One was Kanubai”s continual reference to Elcho Falling, which Ba”al”uz still did not
understand.
The next was the name of Ishbel Brunelle, whispered over and over, which told Ba”al”uz
that she was very important to Kanubai.
The third was more emotion and image than word, but Ba”al”uz understood it perfectly.
Sacrifice.
CHAPTER FOUR
DarkGlass Mountain, the Tyranny of Isembaard
The night lay very still about DarkGlass Mountain. The river lapped gently among the
reed beds, birds shifted within their roosting places, a few cows wandered through a field a
hundred paces away from the pyramid.
One of the cows looked up, watching the pyramid for a few minutes as if entranced, then
shook its head and wandered off, the spell broken.
The cow was not what Kanubai wanted.
An hour or so later, when even the birds had stilled, a dog came wandering along the road
that led along the river by DarkGlass Mountain. It was a brindle mongrel, with a barrel-shaped
body and long spindly legs, and a long tattered tail that showed the scars of many street fights.
The dog was hungry, for he had found no food in the streets of Aqhat the previous day, and so
had swum the river in the hope of finding something in the fields.
Rats, perhaps, or some crumbs left from one of the fieldworkers” noon meal.
The dog trotted slowly along the road, stopping now and again to sniff at something on
the verge, or within the reed banks, but always wandering off disappointed.
Then it caught the scent of gravy.
It instantly made the hungry dog”s mouth water, and his ears pricked up. His pace
quickened and he followed the scent of the gravy…
…without thinking, without any caution, straight through the dog-sized hole in the side of
DarkGlass Mountain.
The brindle dog could think of nothing but the scent of the gravy. He trotted, and then
ran, along the twisting corridors of fused black glass, not perturbed by the flickering streaks of
fire deep within the glass.
There was only the food.
Within a few short minutes the dog arrived within a golden chamber. It was stunningly
beautiful, but the dog”s ears drooped in disappointment.
There was no food.
Dejected, he sniffed about the perimeter of the chamber, his cold moist nose brushing
against the carved golden glass. He went about two walls in that fashion, but halfway along the
third he yelped and tried to pull back.
But his nose was firmly stuck to the glass.
The dog growled and redoubled his efforts.
His nose stuck even more firmly.
And then it began to sink into the glass, dragging the dog with it.
The dog struggled, his breath coming in tight wheezes, more through fear than from his
efforts.
Nothing helped. Within heartbeats his head was inside the glass, and then his shoulders
and forelegs, and then, in one horrible moment, his entire body vanished behind the glass.
But not quite vanished completely. Shadows twisted behind the glass as the dog
continued to struggle with whatever had trapped him.
Then everything went black. The entire chamber, constructed of pure golden glass, turned
black.
Outside, for an instant, the massive shadow of a struggling dog appeared beneath the
blue-green glass of DarkGlass Mountain.
And then everything was still.
The river lapped gently at the reed banks.
The birds shifted within their roosting.
And a brindle dog loped away from the glass pyramid, heading for the ford back to the
palace of Aqhat.
Kanubai might still be trapped, but now he had eyes and ears, and the recently attained
knowledge that a Brunelle walked the land gave Kanubai hope that soon he would be able to