The Mad God's Amulet

When they were eating at last, Hawkmoon sighed and smiled. "They say that good food banishes all care," he said, "but I had not believed it until now. I feel a new man. That is the first good meal I have eaten in months. Fresh-killed venison eaten in the woodsah, the pleasure of it!"

D'Averc, who was wiping his fingers fastidiously and had apparently eaten delicately an enormous amount of meat, said, "I admire health such as yours, Hawkmoon. I wish I had your hearty appetite."

"And I wish I had yours," said Oladahn, laughing, "for you've eaten enough to last you a week.

D'Averc looked at him reproachfully.

Yisselda, who was still wrapped only in Hawkmoon's cloak, shivered a little and put down the bone on which she had been chewing. "I wonder," said she, "if we could seek out a town as soon as possible. There are things I would purchase…"

Hawkmoon looked embarrassed. "Of course, Yisselda, my dear, though it will be difficult… If Dark Empire warriors are thick in these parts, it would be better to drive on farther south and west toward the Kamarg. Perhaps in Carpathia a town can be found.

We must be almost upon her borders now."

D'Averc pointed his thumb to the chariot and the beasts. "We'd get a poor reception arriving at a town in that unearthly thing," he said. "Perhaps if one of us went into the nearest settlement…? But then, what would we use for money?"

"I have the Red Amulet," Hawkmoon said. "It could be traded…"

"Fool," said D'Averc, suddenly deadly serious and glaring at him. "That amulet is your life-and oursour only protection, the only means of controlling our beasts there. It seems to me that it is not the amulet you hate, but the responsibility it implies."

Hawkmoon shrugged. "Maybe. Perhaps I was a fool to suggest it. Still, I like not the thing. I saw what you did not-I saw what it had done to a man who had worn it thirty years."

Oladahn interrupted. "There is no need for this dispute, friends, for I anticipated our need and while you, with great ferocity, were finishing off our foes in the Mad God's hall. Duke Dorian, I dug a few eyes from the Dark Empire men…"

"Eyes!" Hawkmoon said in revulsion, then relaxed and smiled as he saw Oladahn holding up a handful of jewels he had prised from the Granbretanians' masks.

"Well," said D'Averc, "we need provisions desperately, and the Lady Yisselda needs some clothing.

Who'll stand least chance of attracting attention if he goes into a town when we get to Carpathia?"

Hawkmoon gave him a sardonic glance. "Why, you, of course, Sir Huillam, without your Dark Empire accessories. For I, as I am sure you would have pointed out, have this damned black jewel to label me, and Oladahn has his furry face. But you are still my prisoner…"

"I am aggrieved, Duke Dorian. I thought us alliesunited against a common enemy, united by blood, by saving each other's lives…"

"You have not saved mine, as I recall."

"Not specifically, I suppose. Still…"

"And I am not disposed to give you a handful of jewels and set you free," Hawkmoon continued, adding in a more somber tone, "Besides, I'm not in a trusting mood today."

"You would have my word, Duke Dorian," D'Averc said lightly, though his eyes seemed to harden slightly.

Hawkmoon frowned.

"He has proved himself our friend in several fights," Oladahn said softly.

Hawkmoon sighed. "Forgive me, D'Averc. Very well, when we reach Carpathia, you will buy us what we need."

D'Averc began to cough. "This damnable air. It will be the death of me."

They rode on, the horned cats loping at a more gentle pace than the previous day's but still making faster speed than any horse. They left the great forest by midday and by evening saw in the distance the mountains of Carpathia at the same time as Yisselda pointed north, indicating the tiny figures of riders approaching them.

"They've seen us," Oladahn said, "and seem to be planning to ride at an angle to cut us off."

Hawkmoon flicked his whip over the flanks of the huge beasts drawing the chariot. "Faster!" he shouted, and almost at once the chariot began to gather speed.

A little later D'Averc called above the rumble and rattle of the wheels, "They're Dark Empire ridersno doubt of that. Order of the Walrus if I'm not mistaken."

"The King-Emperor must be planning a serious invasion of Ukrania," Hawkmoon said. "There's no other reason for so many bands of Dark Empire warriors here. That means he has almost certainly consolidated all conquests farther west and south."

"Save for the Kamarg, I hope," said Yisselda.

The race continued, with the horsemen gradually drawing nearer, riding, as they were, at an angle to the chariot's course.

Hawkmoon smiled grimly, letting the riders think they were catching them. "Ready with your bow, Oladahn," he said. "Here's an opportunity for target practice."

As the horsemen, in grotesque, grinning walrus masks of ebony and ivory, drew close, Oladahn nocked arrow to string and let fly. A rider fell, and a few javelins hurtled toward the chariot but dropped short. Three more members of the Walrus Order died from Oladahn's arrows before they were outdistanced and the jaguars were hauling their burden into the first foothills of the Carpathian Mountains.