Sands of the Soul (13 page)

One of the Children of Ibrandul, just starting his first beard, stepped toward her, and Steorf moved to block him, but the Lurker waved the novice back. Tazi realized her mistake.

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“I mean no threat,” she explained. “I am afraid I’m bringing a warning to you and hope I am in time.” “Go on,” he urged.

“My friends and I are pursuing an evil necromancer. He has already killed someone close to me, and I know he wants to kill this woman as well.” She motioned to Fannah. “His trail has led here, to Calimport and to your god.”

The novices murmured among themselves at that declaration, but the Lurker silenced them with a look.

“What do you mean, girl?” he demanded.

“All I can reason,” she continued, “is that he is working toward some greater goal of his and he plans to use your god for his own, evil deeds. That has to be why he needed to collect so many souls. To be honest,” she said with a touch of embarrassment at her lack of information, “I was hoping you might know what he could want with the Lord of the Dry Depths.”

The senior priest was quiet for some time, and Tazi suspected he was weighing her words.

Finally, he announced, “Ibrandul protects all human travelers who come to him in the dark. Here you have come to seek answers from him. Over the many years, there have been more than a few persons who have tried to subvert the Skulking God’s powers. This necromancer of yours is not the first, nor, I suspect, will he be the last.”

The Mysterious Lurker glanced behind himself before continuing, “Perhaps it is our book that this necromancer seeks. Over many years we have been collecting the sacred writings of Ibrandul. Even I have not read all of the words of the Lord of the Dry Depths, but I know there is great power in them. Power over the darkness.”

With that, the priest turned and motioned to a stone dais behind him. Tazi could see a large tome resting on an altar. She approached it slowly.

“I wonder,” she said aloud, “if this could have something to do with the scrolls I took from Ciredor.”

The followers of Ibrandul looked quickly at one another.

Tazi drew near the dais and saw that a scaled cover carefully protected the portfolio of parchment papers. With a tentative hand, she reached out to touch the book. The novice of Ibrandul, who had taken offence at her first words, broke away from his companions and ran to the dais.

Before Tazi was able to lay a hand on the book, the Child of Ibrandul grabbed her fingers. He bent them back forcefully and twisted her hand hard. Tazi yelped in surprise and pain.

“No gharab, no foreigner,” he explained roughly, “has the right to touch the Book of Ibrandul.”

Steorf’s anger exploded. He abandoned Fannah’s side and launched himself toward the Child of Ibrandul. Tazi turned and saw Steorf raise his hands and shout a few words with no results. The Lurker ordered the other Children of Ibrandul to hold their places. The novice, ignoring his priest, laughed at the mage’s obvious distress.

“No \uck, gharab. Whatever magic you think you have will not work here in this temple.”

When the youth saw concern cross Steorf s face, he laughed again.

“Have you forgotten how to fight?”

Steorf grunted and sprang at the slighter Calishite. The young man easily sidestepped Steorf, and Tazi took the brunt of his bull’s rush. She was pushed back against the dais arid knocked the tome over with a flailing hand. The parchments fluttered to the floor haphazardly amidst the cries of the horrified worshipers. Steorf glanced briefly at her before turning to face the Child of Ibrandul.

“What’s the matter?” the young Calishite taunted him. “Not only can’t you fight, all you manage to do is make more of a mess.”

He was practically dancing around Steorf. The mage took a roundhouse swing at him, and the Child of Ibrandul just managed to duck and prance back a few steps. With his hands on his hips, the novice teased Steorf some more.

“You know, gharab, I’m starting to think even the blind woman could do a better job at this than you. And what do you think your woman”—he nodded toward Tazi—”thinks of you now that you’ve let her down … shown her just what kind of a man you are?”

Tazi could see that Steorf had reached a boiling point at the mention of her. The Child of Ibrandul moved a step closer to Steorf as his cockiness had made him careless.

Steorf shot his right hand out and grabbed a fistful of the novice’s purple robe.

“I’ll show you what kind of a man I am,” he spat into the novice’s face.

‘With his open left hand, Steorf delivered a wicked stab to the Child of Ibrandul’s throat. He released him, and the acolyte doubled over, suddenly unable to breathe. As the novice was trying to take in a deep, wheezy gasp of air, Steorf brought his knee up into his face and Tazi saw her friend smile in grim satisfaction as they all heard the sickening crunch of bone. She realized Steorf was barely reining himself in.

The novice pinwheeled backward, blood gushing from his broken nose. Steorf kicked out and struck the Child of Ibrandul in the kneecap, sending the novice crashing to the ground.

Steorf didn’t stop there. He dropped down and straddled the young man’s chest and continued to pummel his already bloodied face. The Child of Ibrandul was unable to offer any resistance. Steorf was lost in a blood-red haze.

Tazi was unable to stand any more. She rushed over to the two combatants and caught Steorf’s raised fist, pulling at his arm.

“Stop it!” she screamed into his angry face.

He pulled his hand free and landed another blow onto the Child of Ibrandul’s face. Tazi pushed Steorf off of the youth.

“He’s finished!” she yelled, furious herself.

Steorf sat on the floor, breathing hard. He gave Tazi an unreadable look. Several of the Children of Ibrandul surrounded their comrade, blocking him from Tazi’s view.

Realizing there was nothing she could do for the fallen Child of Ibrandul, she walked slowly over to the stony-faced senior priest.

“I offer my sincere apologies for what just transpired,” Tazi began slowly. “The only thing I might tender in our defense is that my friend acted to protect me after the novice made a threatening move. It is still no excuse, just an explanation.”

A few moments passed before the priest answered. When he did, the old man did so carefully.

“Let me say this was a shameful transgression on both sides, but I am quite certain I understand why the two men did what they did. No apologies are necessary.”

Tazi let out her breath gratefully.

“I was afraid that this might have destroyed any chance we had of retaining your help against Ciredor. That you might not believe in us and in what we’re trying to do.”

“Misunderstandings are just that,” the Lurker replied. “I believe I know exactly what you are about. We will do what we can for you.”

From the corner of her eye, Tazi could see Fannah kneel beside the fallen parchment papers. She gathered them up and carefully replaced the tome on the dais. Tazi sighed.

At least one of us, she thought, managed to keep her head and do something right. f

“Where do we begin?” Tazi asked.

“You give up Fannah to us,” he replied.

rhat do you mean by that?” Steorf yelled as he regained his feet.

He started to move toward the Lurker, but Tazi blocked him and placed a restraining hand on his shoulder, giving him a warning look. She turned her head and questioned the priest herself.

“Just what do you mean by that?” she asked in a calmer tone.

“I will explain,” the Lurker replied, holding up one hand, “but let me first attend to the Child of Ibrandul.”

With that, he walked over to join the circle of Children of Ibrandul that had surrounded the injured novice.

Tazi quickly checked on Fannah. The blind woman stood near the dais, unperturbed by the unfolding

events. Since she appeared fine, Tazi used the time to ensure that Steorf was all right. He held his ground, but Tazi could see that he was seething. She walked over to him and took his hands in hers. Normally, they were smooth and clean. She turned them back and forth and winced at the split knuckles and blood that was starting to dry in the cracks.

“Do they hurt much?” she asked him, in spite other anger at his actions.

“Not nearly as much as I’m sure he’s hurting,” came Steorf’s curt reply. Tazi frowned at him.

“You know,” she replied coldly, “you might have overreacted just a bit.”

“Was I supposed to stand around while he attacked you?” he snapped.

“I was hardly attacked,” she retorted. “I think you just moved a little too quickly.”

“I’m not going to let you get hurt again,” he said through gritted teeth, “because I was too slow to act or was distracted for a moment. You have no idea what I went through when you were wounded that last time. I won’t let that happen to you ever again if there’s anything I can do to stop it.”

Tazi stared up at him.

“I appreciate that,” she finally replied. “I just think you might need to temper your actions with a little thought.”

Realizing what he was trying to tell her, though, she added, “But don’t think too long. I don’t want to be hurt, either.” Ś She looked down and lightly rubbed her thumbs against his bruised knuckles. When she looked back into his face, he was as close to smiling as he ever let himself get.

Tazi, struggling with her own mixed feelings, released his hands and turned in time to see several of the Children of Ibrandul carry their injured comrade through a side door out of the main chamber. The Lurker, with some blood on his robes, headed back to where Tazi and Steorf were standing.

“Let’s see what he has to say,” she whispered to Steorf.

“If we don’t like what we hear, grab Fannah and get out of here.”

“Let me think about that one,” he whispered back.

Tazi had to suppress a smile in spite of the situation.

“Will he be all right?” Tazi asked as soon as the Lurker was standing in front of them.

“In time, Asraf will be as good as new. However, I think I will have him carry a few scars as a reminder of the cost of acting hastily. One should always think before one acts.”

Upon hearing those words, Tazi cast a sidelong look at Steorf.

“But enough on that matter,” the Lurker continued. “What is done is done. We need to discuss what has brought you to us.”

“You are correct,” Tazi agreed, “but I would like to know what you meant about keeping Fannah.”

“If this necromancer is as dangerous as you say—”

“Of course he’s dangerous,” Steorf interrupted.

“If he is that dangerous,” the Lurker continued, though Tazi thought his patience was wearing thin, “then your friend is in the gravest of danger.”

“That’s why …” Steorf began in an exasperated tone but stopped short when Tazi surreptitiously squeezed his forearm.

“Yes, she is in jeopardy,” Tazi finished more calmly. “That’s why we’re here.”

The Lurker nodded in agreement.

“You’ve made it this far,” he said, “but my reasons for keeping Fannah here are twofold.”

“Please go on,” Tazi asked, all the while keeping a light grip on Steorf’s arm.

“The most obvious is to keep her as safe as possible. If something should happen to you both, Ciredor will not be able to find her exact location. There are some wards in place within this temple to thwart other magic, and they are fairly effective, as your young associate discovered just a short time ago.”

Tazi dropped her eyes at that. However, she noticed that Steorf still looked unrepentant.

“There is something else that you may not have considered. This necromancer has had possession of the woman in the past. If he is as formidable as you say, he might have the ability to scry through Fannah’s blind eyes, or have the means to use her against you somehow. Any plans that we form may be vulnerable to his abilities if the three of you remain together,” he finished. “She will be safest without you.”

Tazi was hesitant. Something about his logic didn’t sit well with her, but she was loath to argue with a necessary host they had already insulted, to say the least.

Steorf was obviously not bound by the same compunctions.

“Are you trying to tell us that we can’t take care of our own?” he barked. “We got this far, you know.”

Tazi winced at Steorf’s words. She felt he was overreacting again, just as he had taken too quick offense with the novice of Ibrandul. They couldn’t afford to anger these people any more than they already had. Though she wished that she, Steorf, and Fannah could have had a moment alone to discuss the situation, she realized that wasn’t going to happen. Tazi saw that Fannah didn’t appear unduly distressed by their predicament. She was quietly chatting with one of the novices who had remained with her in the main chamber a few paces away from the dais.

She did say she knew them from before, Tazi thought, and Steorf did read the situation incorrectly just a few moments ago…

“I think you may be right,” she finally said aloud. The priest smiled at her choice, but Steorf was deadly silent.

“Let me just say a few words to her,” Tazi said.

“Of course,” the priest replied. “And don’t worry, we will keep her safe from anyone who would do her harm.”

Tazi looked him in the eye and nodded curtly. She could hear the sincerity in his voice during that last statement.

She walked over to where Fannah stood waiting. At a discreet motion from the priest, the novice moved away politely.

“The Lurker thinks you will be safer with them for a time,” Tazi began.

“Do you believe that to be the best course of action?” Fannah asked her.

“His reasons are sound, and they have merit,” Tazi replied.

Fannah took Tazi’s hand in her own.

“Follow your feelings,” she told Tazi softly.

“Steorf followed his, and look where that almost got us,” she replied. “The walls nearly came crashing down.”

Tazi could still see some of the debris from Steorf’s skirmish littering the floor.

“That may be,” Fannah agreed, “but he was true to himself. I can hear the anger in his voice right now, but he is in far less turmoil than you are.”