“A sensible idea,” Fank nodded. “And being a sensible man myself, I believe I will ride with you.”

“You are most welcome, Master Fank.”

Chapter Eleven

News of Several Sorts

MELIADUS LAY GASPING on the stretcher as Kalan bent over him probing at his blind eyes with his instruments. His voice was a mixture of pain and fury. “What is it, Kalan?” he groaned. “Why am I blind?”

“Simply the intensity of the light released during the explosion,” Kalan said. “Your sight should be restored in a day or so.”

“In a day or so! I need to see. I need to consolidate my gains. I need to make sure that there are no counterplots hatched against me. I need to convince the other barons to swear loyalty to Flana now and then to find out what Hawkmoon is up to. My plansmy plansare they to be all destroyed!”

“Most of the barons have decided to support your Cause,” Kalan told him. “There is little they can do. Only Jerek Nankenseen and the Flies represent a serious threat and Brenal Farnu is with himbut Farnu virtually has no Order left. Most of the Rats died in the early fighting. Adaz Promp is even now chasing Rats and Flies from the city.”

“No Rats left,” said Meliadus, suddenly thoughtful. “How many dead in all, d’you think, Kalan?”

“About half the fighting men of Granbretan.”

“Half? Have I destroyed half our warriors? Half our strength?”

“Was it not worth it for the victory you have won?”

Meliadus’s blind face stared up at the ceiling. “AyeI suppose so…”

Now he sat upright on the stretcher. “But I must justify the deaths of those who fell, Kalan. I did it for Granbretanto rid the world of Hawkmoon and the scum from Castle Brass. I must succeed or, Kalan, I cannot justify weakening the Dark Empire’s fighting force to such a degree!”

“Have no fear on that score,” Kalan told him with a faint smile, “for I have been working on another of my machines.”

“A new weapon?”

“An old one, made to function again.”

“What is that?”

Kalan chuckled. “The Machine of the Black Jewel, Baron Meliadus. Hawkmoon shall soon feel the power of the Black Jewel as it begins to eat his brain.”

A slow, satisfied smile crossed Meliadus’s lips. “Oh, Kalanat last!”

Kalan pressed Meliadus back against the stretcher. He began to rub ointment on the baron’s blind eyes. “Rest now and dream of your revenge, old friend. We shall enjoy it together.”

Kalan looked up suddenly. A courier had entered the small room. “What is it? What news?”

The courier was panting. “I have come from the mainland, your excellency. I have news of Hawkmoon and his men.”

“What of them?” Again Meliadus rose up from the stretcher, the ointment dripping down his cheeks, careless that a minion should see him unmasked. “What of Hawkmoon?”

“They ride for the Silver Bridge, my lord.”