The Forging of the Dragon (Wizard and Dragon Book 1) by Robert Don Hughes Page B

frowned. Did the little girl expect to attend their meeting along with her brother? He avoided looking at Chaom. He didn’t think he could tolerate yet another meaningfully arched eyebrow. Paumer was turning this grand Conspiracy into a family affair.
    “Dark said he’d be with us,” Chaom reminded them all, “and his words always prove true. He also promised to bring with him a new powershaper. In the absence of Nebalath, I count that a hopeful prospect.”
    “Nebalath is not coming?” Jarnel exploded, reining in his mount and turning to face his military rival. “But he’s one of the founders of our effort!”
    “He ... he says he’s getting old —” Paumer explained apologetically.
    “He’s no older than you or me!” Jarnel turned back to glare at Chaom. “Why do we even bother to meet! If Nebalath has withdrawn, we’ve no one to balance against Sheth!”
    “My point exactly.” Chaom nodded.
    “Why wasn’t I told Nebalath had withdrawn!”
    “Please, Jarnel,” Paumer soothed. “We’re almost up to the Central Gate —”
    “All our labors have failed! I’ll never hold the bear in check now!” Jarnel gazed soberly at Chaom and shook his head. “The Pyralu will sting your capital within the week.”
    “Wait! Listen,” Paumer pleaded in the same conciliatory tone. “There’s no way of our knowing what Nebalath will do, nor Sheth either! They’re wizards , Lord Jarnel, not people! At least not people like us. Why, Nebalath might suddenly appear among us right here! The old shaper can toss himself from place to place by a simple act of will — I’ve seen him! Certainly he’s done stranger things. And if he doesn’t show — well then, we must make some plan to deal with his absence. Am I not right?” the merchant appealed to Chaom, who shrugged and nodded in agreement. Paumer looked back at Jarnel and widened his eyes imploringly.
    The Pyralu General studied the merchant’s face. How could this sniveling coward have bent the efforts of so much of the world to his own ends? “Ahh,” Jarnel muttered to himself as he discovered the answer to his own question.
    Paumer looked puzzled. “What was that, my Lord Prince?”
    Jarnel understood it now. Paumer trapped his opponents into underestimating him. Jarnel reminded himself once again never to trust this cringing merchant and always to keep a careful watch upon him. “I understand much more clearly now, Paumer,” the general said at last. “You’re absolutely correct. We must plan for every eventuality.” He lightly spurred the flank of his horse, and the column started upward once again.
    After all the years of burning and scavenging only one structure remained in the Central Gate. The Outer Portal of the One Land rose from the floor of the mile-wide pass to a height of two hundred feet. While its pillars and towers had not been painted in many years, it nevertheless made an impressive picture, squatting beside the sheer cliff of the Central Gate’s northern face. Jarnel scanned the peeling battlements. He saw no guards, but he knew they were there. At least a dozen bowmen concealed themselves beneath those ramshackle shutters on the third tier. Garney wouldn’t drop the staircase until he could see their faces clearly. They rode under the lip of the creaking facade and dismounted.
    After a moment of silence they heard a metallic crunch somewhere above them, followed by the sounds of a turning wheel and huge links of chain clanking through a metal casing. The bottom dropped out of the Outer Portal. It took several minutes to crank it down, but soon they faced a wooden staircase a full forty feet wide.
    “They’ve painted it,” Jarnel muttered. “I wonder why?”
    Paumer grunted as he led his mount to the rampway on the right side of the staircase. It was coated with pitch to give sure footing to pack animals as they ascended into the darkness. Once the column had climbed inside, the staircase cranked up behind them, closing out