a quiver filled with arrows. He had Brenwar’s chest tucked under his arm.
I think Bayzog could carry a little more than his staff. By the sultans, this is heavy!
Bayzog carried the Elderwood Staff and nothing else. As soon as he passed beneath the iron archway of the Grand Gardens, leery eyes slipped his way. Ben could feel a presence now. Something he’d never felt before. He thought about the dragonettes. Wouldn’t mind having them with me now.
Traipsing through splendid walkways lined with bountiful plants and flowers, he followed Bayzog back to their usual bench. Again, the odd men and women in strange garb of many colors shunned them. That was fine with Ben. He didn’t want anything to do with their weird and haunting faces. There was just something so strange and uncouth about the manners of all of them.
“Stay close,” Bayzog said, scanning the garden. “No farther than arm’s length. And keep your sword inside its sheath, no matter what.”
Ben pulled his head back, looked down on Bayzog, and said, “What do you have in mind, Wizard?”
“When she comes, I’ll do all the talking and all the doing. Just stay close to me.”
The muscles in Ben’s jaw clenched. He plucked a piece of spiced rawhide from his pouch and started chewing. He didn’t have any idea what Bayzog was doing, but the part-elf could be odd like that. He’d gotten used to it. But if it were up to him, he’d have left Quintuklen already and headed after his wife and family. He must be setting them up for something.
An hour passed, then two. Ben’s back and knees began to groan. He couldn’t stand for days on end the same as he used to. He was almost fifty now.
Bayzog remained a statue. Hard-eyed and focused.
Certainly by now, their enemies knew they were ready to go somewhere. Ben stretched his back and twisted his waist. Kept switching the chest from arm to arm. This is worse than my Legionnaire days.
“Bayzog,” he said, “I don’t know what you’re planning, but let’s just go.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” Bayzog said. His eyes drifted up the left path. “Ah, company is coming. Just a moment longer, Ben. And remember, stay close.”
The same woman as before came down the path, but she was not alone this time. Two large men, both bigger than Ben, flanked her backside. Tall and heavy shouldered, they were the biggest acolytes of Barnabus he’d ever seen. Each had a sword belted to his robe. Ben’s hand drifted to the pommel of his own sword. Bayzog eyed him. He pulled it away.
“It’s your show, then,” Ben whispered to him.
“Are you going on a journey?” the woman said. Her dark ghostly features were intent on the Elderwood Staff. “You know that you are not to leave the city.”
“I thought it was time you took me to my wife,” Bayzog said. “I need some good faith this time.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, “but that is not how this works. I’ve been very clear about that.”
Ben wondered if the Clerics of Barnabus had any idea that Sasha and her sons had escaped. It seemed they did not.
“Do you have a family?” Bayzog said to her.
“Barnabus is my family,” she said.
“Have you a husband? Or children, perhaps?”
“Let me say, Bayzog,” she began, cocking her head, “I believe I can relate to your circumstances. But these circumstances will change for the worse if you become persistent about leaving.” Her eyes kept drifting back and forth between Bayzog’s eyes and his staff. She backed between her men. “And this public garden is no place to start anything. That would be foolish.”
Ben felt the muscles between his shoulders begin to knot. The air thickened with tension.
“I agree,” Bayzog said, easing his stance. “That would be foolish.”
Ben’s breathing eased.
“But,” Bayzog continued, “it wouldn’t be nearly as foolish as taking the wife and sons of a very powerful wizard.” His eyes sparked with bright fire. His staff flared with brilliant
I think Bayzog could carry a little more than his staff. By the sultans, this is heavy!
Bayzog carried the Elderwood Staff and nothing else. As soon as he passed beneath the iron archway of the Grand Gardens, leery eyes slipped his way. Ben could feel a presence now. Something he’d never felt before. He thought about the dragonettes. Wouldn’t mind having them with me now.
Traipsing through splendid walkways lined with bountiful plants and flowers, he followed Bayzog back to their usual bench. Again, the odd men and women in strange garb of many colors shunned them. That was fine with Ben. He didn’t want anything to do with their weird and haunting faces. There was just something so strange and uncouth about the manners of all of them.
“Stay close,” Bayzog said, scanning the garden. “No farther than arm’s length. And keep your sword inside its sheath, no matter what.”
Ben pulled his head back, looked down on Bayzog, and said, “What do you have in mind, Wizard?”
“When she comes, I’ll do all the talking and all the doing. Just stay close to me.”
The muscles in Ben’s jaw clenched. He plucked a piece of spiced rawhide from his pouch and started chewing. He didn’t have any idea what Bayzog was doing, but the part-elf could be odd like that. He’d gotten used to it. But if it were up to him, he’d have left Quintuklen already and headed after his wife and family. He must be setting them up for something.
An hour passed, then two. Ben’s back and knees began to groan. He couldn’t stand for days on end the same as he used to. He was almost fifty now.
Bayzog remained a statue. Hard-eyed and focused.
Certainly by now, their enemies knew they were ready to go somewhere. Ben stretched his back and twisted his waist. Kept switching the chest from arm to arm. This is worse than my Legionnaire days.
“Bayzog,” he said, “I don’t know what you’re planning, but let’s just go.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” Bayzog said. His eyes drifted up the left path. “Ah, company is coming. Just a moment longer, Ben. And remember, stay close.”
The same woman as before came down the path, but she was not alone this time. Two large men, both bigger than Ben, flanked her backside. Tall and heavy shouldered, they were the biggest acolytes of Barnabus he’d ever seen. Each had a sword belted to his robe. Ben’s hand drifted to the pommel of his own sword. Bayzog eyed him. He pulled it away.
“It’s your show, then,” Ben whispered to him.
“Are you going on a journey?” the woman said. Her dark ghostly features were intent on the Elderwood Staff. “You know that you are not to leave the city.”
“I thought it was time you took me to my wife,” Bayzog said. “I need some good faith this time.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, “but that is not how this works. I’ve been very clear about that.”
Ben wondered if the Clerics of Barnabus had any idea that Sasha and her sons had escaped. It seemed they did not.
“Do you have a family?” Bayzog said to her.
“Barnabus is my family,” she said.
“Have you a husband? Or children, perhaps?”
“Let me say, Bayzog,” she began, cocking her head, “I believe I can relate to your circumstances. But these circumstances will change for the worse if you become persistent about leaving.” Her eyes kept drifting back and forth between Bayzog’s eyes and his staff. She backed between her men. “And this public garden is no place to start anything. That would be foolish.”
Ben felt the muscles between his shoulders begin to knot. The air thickened with tension.
“I agree,” Bayzog said, easing his stance. “That would be foolish.”
Ben’s breathing eased.
“But,” Bayzog continued, “it wouldn’t be nearly as foolish as taking the wife and sons of a very powerful wizard.” His eyes sparked with bright fire. His staff flared with brilliant
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