The Mad God's Amulet

"You know where it lies?" Hawkmoon asked eagerly, forgetting his other doubts.

"Aye."

Then another thought occurred to Hawkmoon.

"You did not… did not engineer Yisselda's capture? To force me to seek the Mad God?"

"Yisselda was captured by a traitor in her father's army-Juan Zhinaga, who planned to take her to Granbretan. But he was diverted on the way by warriors of the Dark Empire who wished to claim the credit for kidnapping her. While they fought, Yisselda escaped and fled, joining, at length, a refugee caravan through Italia, managing to get passage, sometime later, on a ship sailing the Adriatic Sea, bound, she was told, ultimately for Provence. But the ship was a slaver, running girls to Arabia, and in the Gulf of Sidra was attacked by a pirate vessel from Karpathos."

"It is a hard story to believe. What then?"

"Then the Karpathians decided to ransom her, not knowing that the Kamarg was under siege but learning only later of the impossibility of getting money from that quarter. They decided to take her to Istanbul to sell her, but arrived to find the harbor full of Dark Empire ships. Fearing these, they sailed on into the Black Sea, where the ship was attacked by the one you have just burned…"

"I know the rest. That hand I found must have belonged to a pirate who stole Yisselda's ring. But it is a wild tale, Warrior, and barely has the sound of truth.

Coincidence…"

"I told you-there are no coincidences where the Runestaff is involved. Sometimes the pattern seems simpler than at other times."

Hawkmoon sighed. "She is unharmed?"

"Relatively."

"What do you mean?"

"Wait until you come to the Mad God's castle."

Hawkmoon tried to question the Warrior in Jet and Gold further, but the enigmatic man remained entirely silent. He sat on his horse, apparently deep in thought, while Hawkmoon went to help D'Averc and Oladahn get the nervous horses out of the boat and unload the rest of the provisions they had brought.

Hawkmoon found his battered saddlebag still safe and marveled at his being able to hold on to it through all their adventures.

When they were ready, the Warrior in Jet and Gold silently turned his horse and led the way to the steep cliff path, beginning to climb it without pause.

The three companions, however, were forced to dismount and follow after him at a much slower pace.

Several times both men and horses stumbled and seemed about to fall, loose stones dropping away beneath their feet, to hurtle to the shingle that was now far below them. But at last they gained the top of the cliff and looked over a hilly plain that seemed to stretch away forever.

The Warrior in Jet and Gold pointed to the west.

"In the morning, we go that way, to the Throbbing Bridge. Beyond that lies Ukrania, and the Mad God's castle lies many days' journey into the interior. Be wary, for Dark Empire troops roam thereabouts."

He watched as they made camp. D'Averc looked up at him. "Won't you join us in our meal, sir?" he said almost sardonically.

But the great, helmeted head remained bowed, and both warrior and horse stood stock still, like a statue, remaining thus all night, as if watching over themor possibly watching them to make sure they did not leave on their own.

Hawkmoon lay in his tent looking out at the silhouette of the Warrior in Jet and Gold, wondering if the creature were in any way human, wondering if his interest in Hawkmoon was ultimately friendly or malign. He sighed. He wanted only to find Yisselda, save her, and take her back to the Kamarg, there to satisfy himself that the province still stood against the Dark Empire. But his life was complicated by this strange mystery of the Runestaff and some destiny he must work out that fitted with the Runestaff's "scheme." Yet the Runestaff was a thing, not an intelligence. Or was it an intelligence? It was the greatest power one could call upon when oath making. It was believed to control all human history. Why, then, he wondered, should it need "servants" if, in effect, all men served it?

But perhaps not all men did. Perhaps there emerged forces from time to time-like the Dark Empire-that were opposed to the Runestaff's scheme for human destiny. Then, perhaps, the Runestaff needed servants.

Hawkmoon became confused. His was not the head for profundity of that sort, nor speculative philosophy. Not much later he fell asleep.