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slightly lower level, the figure of the Emperor. He was wearing his gray cape
and a clown's mask, and looking tentatively about him. In that first moment
of recognition, despite her experience only hours ago, she had no doubt that
it was really the Emperor she saw.
Only when she saw him inexplicably turn into the hideously pallid figure of
the
Dark King, dead now these many years, did Yambu suddenly realize that this
must be Zoltan or Ben. One of them at least must have managed to reach the
island with the Sword of
Stealth.
Lady Yambu brought a candle over to the window, and began some cautious
signaling.
Arnfinn's attention was drawn to one window by the tiny movement of the flame
inside it. The window was not many meters away, and despite the poor light,
Page 49
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he at once recognized the gray-haired lady as one member of the infamous trio
who had assaulted him and taken away the Sword. He was more than a little
surprised to see her here. What she and her companions had said when they
took his Sword away had made him think that they were not connected with the
new lords of the lake and islands.
But, who was she seeing when she looked at him? Obviously not someone she
greatly feared.
Arnfinn waved back, a slight, cautious gesture, and then began to work his way
nearer her apartment, a task made considerably more difficult by his complete
ignorance of the interior layout of the castle. Traveling through corridors
that were almost completely dark, he found his vision somehow enhanced, he
thought, by Sightblinder. What little was shown him by stray glints of light
was easier to interpret in terms of real surfaces and distances.
He came out on another untenanted small balcony, from which he hoped to be
able to see the window, and found to his satisfaction that he was closer to
it. Taking a shortcut that involved some risky climbing-by this time risks
were assuming a different proportion-he soon found himself standing on yet
another balcony, near enough to the lady's window to allow them to conduct a
quiet conversation.
"Who is it?" she whispered out to him, the imperious tone that he remembered
still lingering in her voice. "Zoltan or Ben?"
Arnfinn, trying to understand that question, wondered if the lady could be
speaking of a pair of twins, so that she did not know which one she thought
she saw. Or, were Ben and Zoltan two different people, and had she seen him
as first one and then the other as he approached?
"What does it matter?" he whispered back. Then, bluntly: "I must know. Where
are the important prisoners being held?"
He could see her shake her head impatiently and blink. "Prisoners? I know
where the one of most importance is, at least. If you can get me out of this
comfortable cell, I'll take you directly to him."
CHAPTER 11
AS soon as Zoltan felt steady enough on his feet to travel, he continued with
Ben along the shoreline in the direction away from Triplicane. They met no
one as they walked. From time to time Ben cast a glowering look out over the
lake, but the griffin, along with its unknown rider, and their flying escort
of lesser creatures, had all disappeared into the distances of the darkening
lacustrine sky.
Still Ben and Zoltan moved on. As the dusk deepened around them they stumbled
around and over two more deserted docks, but except for one half-sunken hulk
there were no boats of any kind to be discovered.
By this time both men were almost staggering with weariness. Abandoning their
efforts for the time being, they sought shelter in a small hillside grove of
evergreens, only a stone's throw from the water. There, on ground softly
carpeted with needles, they slept until it was almost dawn.
Zoltan, who was the first to come fully awake, immediately set about
scrounging up some breakfast. Seldom had he ever undertaken a journey of any
length without bringing along a fisherman's line and a few hooks, and this
trek to Alk-maar had been no exception. He could hear the downhill rush of a
small stream that ran nearby, screened by trees. The underside of a log
yielded a few juicy grubs for bait. Meanwhile Ben, groaning himself awake at
last, came up with the flint and steel necessary to get a fire started.
Zoltan's skill, aided by moderate good luck, soon provided a few fish. As the
two men breakfasted, discussing their problems and peering out over the lake, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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