RHIDAUNA, The Shadow of the Revenaunt, Book 1

CHAPTER 6 - DEADLY NIGHT (Part One)

Illgram had hidden himself on the edge of the wood, at a safe distance from The Climbing Clawerd. The cursed moonlight had transformed the gardens into a brightly lit stage, so that even a blind horse could see Pardoc sneaking up to the inn. The sorcerer's breathing faltered as he saw a shadow between the trees. A silver gray shape slid into the moonlight. A mountain lion? In this part of the country? The beast must have made some sound, because Pardoc turned. His hands went up and Illgram thought he saw the flicker of a dagger. Nevertheless, the routewatcher was too slow. The mountain lion sprang as a silver fury to Pardoc's throat. The man fell backward, his arms clamped around the neck of the feline. The struggle lasted two, three heartbeats, no more. Then Pardoc stopped moving. His head lay at an impossible angle and even from his hiding place, Illgram could see a pool of blood spreading on the lawn. The mountain lion raised its head and seemed to sniff the air. Illgram stiffened. Would it smell me? Panic overmastered the sorcerer. He always kept himself far from physical danger. As a practicus he was the one who gave the orders; the lower ranks existed to carry them out and brave the dangers. He stumbled away. O Anti, Mother of us all, why do you desert your servant? Now Pardoc lay ripped to death in his own blood, the whole murder plan foiled. The only neophyte left to him was Urkais, with his six miserable golems. What could he do with them? For more than a simple fight, those damn golems had proved themselves unsuitable. It must be an ambush; surprise could help compensate their ineptness. He hurried through the woods to where the golemaster and his last creatures were hiding.

From somewhere came the song of an early blackbird, rising in melancholia above the silence. Olle did not hear the bird; he sat on his knees in the dewy grass and looked questioningly at Bo. 'Who are they?'

The young mage pulled his flaming robe closer. 'Cursed heretics!'

Niella glanced at her cousin and said unruffled, 'Bo means the wikken of the Gray Temple. They follow Arikal.'

Olle slapped his thigh with his hand. 'I know of only seven Orders. There are more?'

The girl nodded. 'The Gray Order exists,' she said. 'They are a gathering for anyone who doesn't feel at home with any of the regular orders. That's why they are more or less ignored by the other temples.'

'They're rebels.' Bo's voice was filled with scorn and something akin to loathing.

'Dissidents,' Niella corrected. 'They don't follow the official rules and use the magic of the various Orders as it suits them. Such an amulet as this serves to strengthen their power.'

'Those Grays are forbidden, then.' Olle was an irregular temple-goer, but he found the idea of a group of people turning away from the official teachings shocking.

Niella shook her head. 'No. Both the Convocation of Mages and the Council of Temples recognize the Grays as an official Order, though they don't want to have much to do with them. Arikal is a true God.'

In the background, Bo growled something unintelligible.

Niella glanced at the young mage and nodded. 'Personally, I feel the Grays have some good points, but not everyone agrees.'

'I'd never heard of them,' Olle said. 'Is there a Black Order, too?'

Bo made a choking sound. He gaped at Olle and his hands moved in a warding gesture.

Niella turned her head away. 'Why do you ask?' she said, with a slight tremble in her voice.

Olle looked from one to the other, warned by the fear in their voices. Was there something that Ghyll and he needed to know about? He rose from the wet grass and folded his arms. 'Magister Hemplock, the alchemist in Gromarthen, mentioned them. According to him, the golems that destroyed Tinnurad and attacked Haspen had been made with falmagic, whatever that may be.'