Kellanved's Reach

Dancer suddenly pushed his companion back as dust gathered before them in a thickening gyre to coalesce into the forms of three T’lan Imass: Ay Estos in his wolf headdress, Tem Benasto in his sabre-toothed cat skull and the lean figure of Onos T’oolan. Tem Benasto grasped the leather-wrapped grip of the flint dagger at his waist. ‘You lied. No Jaghut can be found here. Only one woman of the Tiste Liosan – whom we dealt with.’

Kellanved spread his hands wide. ‘But I assure you—’

‘Too late,’ Ay Estos answered, like a sentence.

The Bonecasters nodded to T’oolan and he clasped a hand to the grip of his long two-handed flint blade. ‘You have been judged unworthy,’ Onos announced.

Dancer stepped between them, his blades drawn. He eyed the creature, saying, ‘First let’s see how we compare—’

A new shape appeared then: Ulpan Nodosha in his headdress of a gigantic cave bear. He raised a hand for a halt. ‘Vestiges of Omtose Phellack have been detected.’

T’oolan’s weapon fairly flew up and he spun. ‘What?’

Dancer saw then the speed of this Imass swordsman, and despaired. He knew nothing like it, save for the Dal Hon half-breed, Dassem.

‘Impossible,’ Tem answered. ‘We ourselves cleansed this land millennia ago.’

Ulpan Nodosha gave a nod of his gigantic bear skull headdress. ‘None the less. Along the river. And very recent.’

Tem turned to regard Kellanved. ‘This is … troubling. If true, you were right to bring it to our attention. We must pursue this.’

And with that all four sloughed away into dust. Kellanved waved his hands. ‘Wait! Are you going? Really going?’ He looked to Dancer and threw his hands in the air. ‘A little consideration – that’s all I ask!’

For his part Dancer resisted rubbing his neck in relief. That had been far too close. Fortunately, the little Dal Hon mage had been on top of things, but what of next time? If there ever was one, which, if he had any say, would be never.

Kellanved gestured aside with his walking stick. ‘Ah, here we are.’

Dancer glanced over and flinched, as there stood Ho. But it was not Ho, for that mage never possessed such an empty half-grin. It was one of the doppelgangers he and Kellanved had released. The quadruplet urged them to him, his grin twitching, and disappeared into a side room.

‘This way,’ Kellanved invited, and followed. Within, they found all four identical burly men. Three held the fourth subdued: one with a headlock, the others on each arm. The constrained one grunted, struggling and glaring. Kellanved approached and nodded to him. ‘Ho. You worried me the most. How was I to get the better of one such as you?’ He gestured to the other three. ‘Thankfully, you yourself provided the means.

‘Wrap him in chains,’ he told them, ‘and take him to the waterfront. A riverboat is waiting to take him to Cawn. There, a Napan vessel is provisioned and waiting for a long journey. A journey all the way to the lands of the Seven Cities.’

Ho, the cords of his neck straining, his lips drawn back, cut in: ‘Idiot! No prison can hold me.’

‘Oh, but this one can, I assure you. It is a prison perfectly suited for one such as you.’ He nodded to the three and, grinning, they proceeded to drag their brother away. ‘But watch out for the dust,’ Kellanved called after them. ‘It is a very dusty place.’

The Dal Hon mage offered Dancer a smug smile and motioned him onward. ‘There we are. The Protectress dealt with, as you heard. All that remains is to take possession.’

Dancer was not so sanguine. ‘I doubt anything could be as all settled as that.’

Kellanved headed out to the main hall, waving Dancer’s reservations aside. ‘You’ll see!’

The long hall led to the formal throne room where Shalmanat used to receive petitions and lower judgements. Here, Kellanved pointed to a robed functionary running past. ‘You there! Come here!’

The man gaped, scrolls and vellum sheets clasped to his breast. ‘Don’t kill me, m’lord!’ he pleaded.

‘Nothing of the sort, I assure you,’ the mage said soothingly. ‘Gather the court, please. These are my orders, yes?’

The fellow nodded jerkily. ‘The court, my lord?’

‘Yes. All those who wish to witness the change of rulership here in Heng. All interested parties. Yes?’

The palace clerk kept nodding. ‘Very good. Yes, m’lord. At once. As you order.’

‘Excellent.’ Kellanved bade him go with little shooing gestures of his hands. The fellow ran, sheets flying.

‘And what will this accomplish?’ Dancer asked, brows arched.

‘Witnesses, my friend. Vital.’ He raised a crooked thin finger. ‘Nothing happens unless it is witnessed.’

*

When Heboric arrived in Li Heng he immediately asked about the location of the main temple to Fener. Not surprisingly, it was located in the main garrison of the city, Fener being not only the Boar of Summer, but one of the acknowledged gods of war. Entering, he was surprised to find himself rather quickly assuming the role of High Priest of the temple, as none of the local adherents wore blessings of the boar beyond small tattoos upon their cheeks and wrists.