The Ruin by Richard Lee Byers Read Free Book Online Page A

anyway, you shouldn’t be in camp. If the Nars see you talking to the rest of us, it could turn them hostile again.” It was amazing that one of the sentries hadn’t already noticed the huge reptile crouching in their midst.
    “It’s the Rage tainting her dreams,” Brimstone said, “and my magic will keep each and every barbarian, the guards included, slumbering till dawn. Now help me rouse the others. We should talk.” He turned, his tail swishing through the grass, and stalked away. He took care to step over the men sleeping around the dying campfires, and if he presently thirsted for their blood, nothing in his manner betrayed it.
    Swallowing a spasm of loathing, Dorn lifted Kara to her feet. “Are you all right?” he asked.
    “Of course,” she said, “it was just a dream.” But she avoided his eyes, and in so doing, proved Brimstone correct, for in Dorn’s experience, only the Rage had ever made her feel ashamed.
    “Don’t be upset,” he said, feeling awkward as usual when trying to give reassurance. “You’re still sane.”
    “For now.”
    “For always. You know I’ll look after you. Now come on. Pavel was sleeping over this way.”
    They found the priest snoring in the tattooed arms of the female warrior. By the time he pulled on his clothing, Brimstone had gathered the others by the wagon.
    “So,” hissed the smoke drake, “the Nars proved informative.”
    “We’re not sure,” said Will. His mouth gaped wide in a yawn. “Eavesdropping, were you?”
    Brimstone didn’t deign to answer the question directly. “I couldn’t hear everything they said.”
    “Then you missed a diverting tale,” said Taegan, running a comb though his black, silky hair. The bladesinger’s comrades generally kept a certain distance from Brimstone, but as usual, Taegan lounged within easy reach of the drake’s fangs and claws. “In the foothills of the mountains to the west, the hobgoblins breed like maggots in the belly of a dead cow. But there’s one patch of land where they never venture. Thereon dwells a mysterious entity so sagacious as to approach omniscience. Alas, it’s also thoroughly malevolent and reclusive—hence the appellation ‘the Hermit’—traits that disincline it to share its wisdom with others.
    “In times past, people in desperate need of answers used to seek it out,” the avariel continued. “They carried treasures with them in hopes of striking a bargain. But only one ever returned, and as a warning to others, the Hermit sent him back with an affliction, an ungovernable craving for the blood of his kin. He wound up killing his entire tribe.”
    Will grinned at Brimstone. “Sounds like someone we know.”
    The vampire’s eyes flared brighter. “I’ve killed the equivalent of many tribes.”
    “I have every confidence,” said Taegan. “But have you heard of the Hermit? None of us has, not even Kara.”
    “No,” Brimstone said. “But like the rest of you, I’ve never visited Narfell before.”
    “Many people across Faerűn,” Pavel said, “have legends of all-knowing oracles, but it’s questionable that any such seers exist. Even individual gods don’t know everything, though perhaps they do in the aggregate.”
    Perched on the seat of the wagon, tail flicking, Jivex made a spitting sound. “We don’t need the Hermit to know ‘everything,’ just how to wash the dirt out of my head.”
    “Fair enough,” Pavel said, “but the details of the Nars’ legend make me doubt the Hermit truly exists at all. Which is to say, it’s possible some dangerous creature dwells in the hills, but it may not be a learned sage. Because, if it kills everyone who enters its territory, how would anybody ever find that out and pass the report along?” He frowned. “Though it’s possible that over time, some of the tale has been forgotten, and the missing piece explains what seems nonsensical.”
    Will snorted. “Thank you, bookish idiot, that’s very helpful. Say no with one