Fall of Angels

CVII

SILLEK STEPS INTO the hot tower room, dim despite the blazing summer sun outside, and hot and close, even with the breeze seeping through the two open windows.

Despite his light shirt and thin trousers, Sillek begins to sweat almost immediately.

“Lord Sillek,” says Terek, standing, “I found what you were seeking.” The white wizard rubs his forehead, then gestures to the blank glass. “If you’re ready, I’ll try to call it up again.”

“Please do.”

Terek seats himself on the high-backed stool, shifting his weight from side to side for a moment. White mists swirl across the silver of the glass. Then, in the midst of the white mists in the glass, an image forms. A line of horsemen winds its way along a narrow mountain road in the glare of the midday sun.

“Yes?” Sillek’s eyes narrow, and he strains to discern details which would identify the horsemen. “Who are they? Where are they going?”

Sweat drips from Terek’s face, and the lines in his forehead deepen as he concentrates. “I’ll try to get a closer picture.”

After a moment, the image shifts slightly, to the head of the column where a white-coated figure rides between two armed men. The taller figure wears a huge blade across his shoulders.

“That’s Hissl, all right,” murmurs Sillek. “And the smaller one, he looks familiar, but I don’t know why.” He studies the image for a time longer. “That looks like the road past the Ironwoods into the Westhorns, just into the real mountains.”

Terek, sweat now pouring down his cheeks, clears histhroat. “Ah … ser … do you need to see … any more?”

“Oh, no.” Sillek pauses, then asks, “Do you know who the other fellow was? The big one?”

Terek clears his throat, once, twice. “No, ser. He feels a little like a beginning white wizard, but I know I’ve never seen him,” Terek takes out a large white square of cloth and slowly blots his forehead. After a time, he slides off the stool and shakes the white robes away from his body.

“Hissl must have gathered twoscore armsmen there.” Sillek purses his lips.

“He wants to be Lord of the Ironwoods.” Terek’s voice is flat.

“If he can defeat those angel women, I’d be most happy to grant him the title and those lands.” Sillek forces a laugh. “It would take a wizard to make that maze of thorn trees productive.”

“I wish him well,” adds Terek.

“I know you do. He’s difficult to work with, isn’t he?” Sillek’s eyes fix on the white wizard.

Terek takes a long look at the Lord of Lornth, then speaks in measured tones. “Hissl has a great willingness to work hard, great talent, and a great opinion of that talent.”

“As I said … difficult to work with.” Sillek chuckles. “Don’t mind me, Master Wizard. And I thank you for your images. They make things clearer.”

He turns and walks from the small room, adding under his breath, “But not that much clearer.”