The Black Road

NINE

Glaring out into the harbor of Tauruk's Port, Raithen knew two of the three cogs were lost. The flames ran up the masts, too well established in the rigging and the sails to be beaten back.

He strode Barracuda's deck with grim determination. "Get off that ship," he yelled to the pirates who had feared him more than they had feared the fire and had fought to save it. The effort to raise his voice hurt his wounded throat.

The pirates obeyed at once, showing no remorse at abandoning the vessel. If losing a few of the pirates would have meant saving the ship, Raithen would have done it, but losing the ship and more men was unacceptable.

Raithen leapt onto the plank that led to the narrow shoreline below the overhanging cliff. Rocks and boulders littered the narrow strip of stone that provided a walkway to the steps cut into the cliffside. Dead pirates sprawled across the steps as well, victims of the Westmarch Navy rescue crew who had taken the boy from him. Other pirates had fallen into the river and been swept away. The old man with the war hammer had become death incarnate while holding the steps. Westmarch archers among the rescue group had wreaked havoc among the pirates for a long minute or two until the pirates had no longer tried to storm the steps to the clifftop.

Raithen knew that the Westmarch sailors had gone, taking the boy with them. The pirate captain walked to the burning cog downstream from Barracuda, stopped in front of the mooring rope that held the ship in place, and cut itwith one mighty blow from the ax he'd carried from Barracuda.

With the thick mooring rope severed, the burning cog slid out into the river, caught in the current, and floated away. It wasn't a vessel anymore; it was a pyre.

"On board Barracuda," Raithen ordered his men. "Prepare poles, and let's keep that damn burning tub from her." He crossed to the cog upstream from Barracuda, waited until pirates lined the cog's railing, then chopped through the hawser line.

The river carried the burning cog into Barracuda. The pirates strove to keep the burning ship from the vessel Raithen hoped to salvage. Barracuda's hull might be split or merely leaking, but he planned on saving her. Without the cog, it would be a long walk back to the rendezvous point where he kept the main ships of his pirate fleet.

Raithen cursed his pirates, finally giving up, returning to Barracuda himself, and taking up a pole. He felt the blaze's heat against his face, but he yelled at his pirates. Slowly, propelled by the poles, the burning ship bumped and butted around Barracuda.

The pirates started cheering.

Angry, Raithen grabbed the two men nearest him in quick succession and heaved them over Barracuda's railing. The other pirates pulled back at once, knowing they'd all feel their captain's wrath if they stayed near him. Bull was one of the first to step out of reach, knocking over three men in his haste.

Raithen drew his sword, and it gleamed. He faced his men. "You damn stupid louts. We just lost two of our ships, our hidden port, and cargo we aren't going to be able to freight out of here-and you stand there cheering like you done something?"

Smoke stained the pirates' faces, and no few of them bore burns and injuries from the brief battle with the Westmarch sailors.

"I want a crew here to pump this vessel out and see to the repairs," Raithen yelled. "We'll sail at dawn. Thosedamned Westmarch sailors can't get the river's mouth closed by then. Bull, bring the rest of the men with me."

"Where to, cap'n?" Bull asked.

"We're going to find that damned priest," Raithen said. "If he can persuade me to let him, I'll suffer him to live and take him out of here, too. For a price." He touched his wounded throat. "If not, I'll see him dead before I quit this port, and I'll rob whatever treasures he's scavenged from that buried city as well."

"But, Cap'n Raithen," one of the pirates said, "that explosion what took out the cliffside and flattened the ruins came from the priests' digs. I come from there when them buildings fell on us. Them priests were probably all killed."

"Then we'll be robbing dead men if we can find them," Raithen said. "I've no problem with that." He turned and walked toward the cliffside. As he climbed the crooked stone steps, he shoved debris and dead men from his path. At the least, he intended to get his vengeance on Buyard Cholik-unless the old priest had been killed in the mysterious blast.

"I won't go! I won't go, I tell you!"

Darrick Lang watched the young boy struggle and fight against Mat and one of the other sailors who pulled him toward the Hawk's Beak Mountains, escape, and Lonesome Star in the Gulf of Westmarch.

"Please!" the boy yelled. "Please! You've got to listen to me!"

Frustrated, Darrick waved Mat and the other sailor to halt. They were far enough up the mountainside that he had a clear view of the harbor and the city ruins. The second burning cog was passing beside them out on the river far below. A straggling line of pirates still extricated themselves from the ruins and made their way toward the cliffside harbor, but the line of lanterns and torches streaming up the stone steps announced that the pirates weren't ready to abandon the port yet.

"Listen to you about what?" Darrick asked.

"The demon," the boy said. His breath came in ragged gasps because they had pushed him hard after getting him to the top of the cliff. He was too big to carry and run, so Darrick had grabbed the boy's clothing and pushed and pulled him up the mountainside till he couldn't run anymore.

"What demon?" Mat asked, dropping to one knee to face the boy squarely.

After all those years with his younger brothers and sisters in the burgeoning Hu-Ring household, Darrick knew Mat had far more patience with children than he did.

"We don't need any talk of damn demons," Maldrin snarled. The old mate was covered in blood, but little of it was his own. Despite the battle he'd fought while holding the top of the stone steps until archers among the group could kill or chase away pirates eager to die, he still had stamina. Every hand aboard Lonesome Star believed that the crusty old mate could walk any sailor who shipped with him to death, then lace up his boots and walk another league or more. "We've been blessed with no bad luck thus far, an' I wouldn't have it any other way."

"The pirate captain," Lhex said. "He showed me a sign of Kabraxis."

"An' this Kabraxis," Mat said, "he'd be the demon you're referrin' to, would he?"

"Yes," Lhex said, turning and gazing back toward the ruins of Tauruk's Port. "The door to Kabraxis's Lair must be somewhere in that. I heard the pirates talking about the priests who were digging there."

"What sign?" Mat persisted.

"Captain Raithen showed me Kabraxis's sign," Lhex said.

"And how is it, then," Darrick asked in a sharp manner, "that you'd be knowing so much about demons?"

Lhex rolled his eyes at Darrick, showing obvious disapproval. "I was sent to Lut Gholein to be priest-trained. I've spent four years in school there. Some of our main philosophy books deal with the thematic struggle between manand his demons. They aren't supposed to be real. But what if they are? What if Kabraxis is somewhere lost in the ruins of this city?"

The wind came down out of the peaks of Hawk's Beak Mountains and chilled Darrick. Sweat from his exertions matted his hair, but it lifted as he gazed at the ruins of the city. Pirates boiled along the top of the cliff overhanging the Dyre River, their lanterns and torches cutting through the stirring fog and reflecting in the river below.

"We've naught to do with demons, boy," Darrick said. "Our orders are to see you safe and home, and I mean to do that."

"We're talking of a demon here, captain," Lhex insisted.

"I'm no captain," Darrick said.

"These men follow you."

"Aye, but I'm no captain. My own captain has ordered me to bring you back, and I'm going to do that."

"And if the pirates find a demon?" Lhex asked.

"They're welcome to any foul demons they might find, says I," Maldrin offered. "Honest men don't have nothin' to do with demons."

"No," the boy said earnestly, "but demons steal the souls of honest men. And Kabraxis was one of the worst while he walked through these lands."

"Ye ain't gettin' me to believe in demons," Tomas said, his face dark with suspicion. "Stories, that's all them legends are. Just meant to give a man a laugh an' maybe a sense of unease now an' again."

"Kabraxis," Lhex said, "was also called the Thief of Hope. People died wearing his chains, chains that they wove themselves because they believed he offered them redemption from sin, wealth, privilege, and everything else mortals have ever put stock in."

Darrick nodded to the carnage left of the city. "If Kabraxis is responsible for that, I'd say the pirates and the priests aren't going to find him any too thankful to be woke up."

"Not woke up," Lhex said. "Returned to this world. ThePrime Evils helped work to seal him from this place because Kabraxis grew too powerful here."

"He was no threat to them three, I'll warrant," Maldrin declared. "Else I'd have heard tell of him, 'cause that woulda been one damned bloody battle."

The wind ruffled the boy's hair, and lightning seared the sky, painting his features the pale color of bone. "Diablo and his brothers feared Kabraxis. He's a patient demon, one who works quietly and takes his time. If Kabraxis has a way into this world, we have to know. We have to be ready for him."

"My job is to get you back to Westmarch and to the king," Darrick said.

"You'll have to carry me," Lhex said. "I won't go willingly."

"Skipper," Maldrin said, "beggin' yer pardon, but tryin' to negotiate them cliffs while carryin' a bellerin' young 'un ain't gonna make for good or safe travelin'."

Darrick already knew that. He took a deep breath, smelling the approaching storm on the wind, and hardened his voice. "Better I should leave you here and tell the king I didn't get to you in time."

The boy's dark eyes regarded Darrick for only a moment. "You won't do that. You can't."

Darrick scowled fiercely, hoping to scare the boy.

"And if you take me back without checking on the demon," Lhex threatened, "I'll tell the king that you had the chance to find out more and you didn't. After the troubles in Tristram, I don't think my uncle will take kindly to a sailor derelict in his duty to find out as much as he could." The boy raised his eyebrows. "Do you?"

Darrick held his tongue for a moment, willing the boy to back down. But even if Lhex did, Darrick knew the truth of the boy's words would weigh on him. The king would want to know. And despite the possibility of seeing a demon, which filled him with fear, Darrick was curious.

"No," Darrick said. "I don't think the king would take kindly to such a sailor at all." He raised his voice. "Maldrin."

"Aye, skipper."

"Can you and Mat and a couple others manage getting the waif back to the longboat on your own?" Darrick stared at the boy. "If he agrees to be his most peaceable?"

"I can do that," Maldrin said grudgingly. "If it comes to it, I'll tie him up an' lower him by a rope down the mountainside." He glared at the boy for a moment, then turned his attention back to Darrick. "I don't know that I agree that ye a-harin' off right this minute is all that bright."

"I've never been overly accused of brightness," Darrick said, but it was only bravado that he didn't feel.

"I ain't gonna be left behind," Mat said, shaking his head. "No, if it's to be demon huntin' in the offin', ye got to count me in, Darrick."

Darrick looked at his oldest and best friend in the world. "Aye. I will, and glad to have you, but we're not about to have a good time of it."

Mat smiled. "It'll be an adventure we can tell our grandkids about whilst we dandle 'em on our knees in our dotage, me an' ye."

"I should go with you," Lhex interrupted.

Darrick looked at the boy. "No. You've pushed this as far as needs be. You leave the matter with us now. The king wouldn't be happy to hear that his nephew wasn't amenable to being rescued by men who laid down their lives for him, either. Understand?"

Reluctantly, the boy nodded.

"Now, you did yourself a good turn back on the pirate ship by getting yourself free," Darrick said. "I expect the same behavior while you're with these men I'm asking to guard you with their lives. Have we got a bargain?"

"But I can identify the demon-" the boy said.

"Boy," Darrick said, "I believe I'll know a demon should I see one."

The coming storm continued to gather strength as Darrick led the group of sailors back into the ruins of the city. The moon disappeared often behind the dark, threateningmasses of storm clouds, leaving the world cluttered with black silk, then appeared again to draw harsh, long shadows against the silvered grounds. The alabaster columns and stones of the city blazed with an inner fire whenever moonlight touched them.

The sailors moved in silence, unencumbered by armor the way militiamen would be. The king's army corps seldom went anywhere without the rattle and clangor of chainmail or plate. Those things were death to a man fighting on a ship if he somehow ended up in the water.

Finding the entrance to the underground cavern in the ruins turned out to be easy. Darrick held his group back, then followed the last of Raithen's pirates down into the cleared path that led into the bowels of the earth beneath the remains of Tauruk's Port.

None of them spoke over the droning buzz that filled the cavern farther down. The dank earth blocked the wind, but it kept the wintry chill locked around Darrick. The cold made his body ache worse. The long climb up the cliff as well as the battles he'd fought had stripped him of energy, leaving him running on sheer adrenaline. He looked forward to his hammock aboard Lonesome Star and the few days' journey it would take to reach Westmarch.

Fog or a dusty haze filled the cavern. The haze looked golden in the dim light of the lanterns Raithen's pirates carried.

Gradually, the tunnel Darrick followed widened, and he saw the great door set into the stone wall on the other side of the immense cavern. The tunnel went no farther.

Raithen and his pirates stopped before entering the main cavern area, and their position blocked Darrick's view of what lay ahead. Several of the pirates seemed in favor of turning and fleeing, but Raithen held them firm with his harsh voice and the threat of his sword.

Hunkering down behind a slab of rock that had slid free during the excavation, Darrick stared into the cavern. Mat joined him, his breath rasping softly.

"What's wrong?" Darrick whispered.

"It's this damn dust," Mat whispered back. "Must not have settled from the explosion earlier. It's tightenin' me lungs up a mite."

Taking the sleeve of his torn shirt in one hand, Darrick ripped it off and handed it to Mat. "Tie this around your face," he told his friend. "It'll keep the dust out."

Mat accepted the garment remnant gratefully and tied it around his face.

Darrick tore the other sleeve off and tied it around his own face. It was a pity because the shirt had been a favorite of his, though it was no comparison to the Kurastian silk shirts he had in his sea chest aboard Lonesome Star. Still, growing up hard and without as he had, he treasured things and generally took good care of the ones he had.

Slowly and tentatively, Raithen led his pirates down into the cavern.

"Darrick, look!" Mat pointed, indicating the skeletons that lay in the cavern area. A few looked old, but most of them appeared to have been just stripped clean. Ragged clothing, torn but not aged, swaddled the skeletons.

"I see them," Darrick said, and the hair at the back of his neck lifted. He wasn't one for magic, and he knew he was looking at sure proof that magic had been recently worked. We shouldn't be here, he told himself. If I had any sense, I'd leave now before any of us are hurt. In fact, he was just about to give the order when a man in black and scarlet robes stepped through the immense doorway in the far wall.

The man in scarlet and black looked as if he was in his early forties. His black hair held gray at the temples, and his face was lean and strong. A shimmering aura flowed around him.

"Captain Raithen," the man in scarlet and black greeted, but his words held little warmth.

The droning buzz increased in intensity.

"Cholik," Raithen said.

"Why aren't you with the ships?" Cholik asked. Hecrossed the cavern floor, oblivious to the carnage of freshly dead men scattered around him.

"We were attacked," Raithen said. "Westmarch sailors set fire to my ships and stole the boy we held for ransom."

"You were followed?" Cholik's anger cut through the droning noise that filled the cavern.

"Who is that man?" Mat whispered.

Darrick shook his head. "I don't know. And I don't see a demon around here, either. Let's go. It's not going to take that Cholik guy long to figure out what Raithen and his pirates are doing here." He turned and signaled to the other men, getting them ready to withdraw.

"Maybe it wasn't me who got followed," Raithen argued. "Maybe one of those men you buy information from in Westmarch got caught doing something and sold you out."

"No," Cholik said. He stopped out of sword's reach from the pirate captain. "The people who do business with me would be afraid to do something like that. If your ships were attacked, it was through your own gross ineptitude."

"Maybe we should just skip all this faultfinding," Raithen suggested.

"And then what should we do, captain?" Cholik regarded the pirate captain with contempt and cold amusement. "Get to the part where you and your murderous crew kill me and try to take whatever it is that you've imagined I've found here?"

Raithen grinned without humor. "Not a very pretty way to put it, but that's about it."

Cholik drew his robes in with imperious grace. "No. That won't be done this night."

Striding forward, Raithen said, "I don't know what kind of night you had planned for yourself, Cholik, but I aim to get what I came for. My men and I have spent blood for you, and the way we figure it, we haven't gotten much in return."

"Your greed is going to get you killed," Cholik threatened.

Raithen brandished his sword. "It'll get you killed first."

A massive shape stepped through the door in the stone wall. Darrick stared at the demon, taking in the writhing snake hair, the barbaric features, the huge three-fingered hands, and the black skin slashed through with pale blue.