‘I am not Tsurani. I am the outland magician, Pug of Crydee, taken captive during the war on the world of Midkemia. It was I who freed the Thuril warriors at the Great Games and destroyed the great arena. It was I who was wed to Katala of the Thuril, whose kinsman I met down in the town just hours ago.
‘We will take anyone to this new world who wishes to live,’ Pug said calmly. ‘I have spoken to the Thūn.’ This brought an angry response, for the Thūn were a bigger plague on the Thuril than they were on the Tsurani. ‘Even now others are making the same offer to the Cho-ja, the dwarves across the Sea of Blood, and any other race who wishes to escape the devastation.’ Passion rose in his voice as he said, ‘It was Mara of the Acoma who came to you seeking a way to meet with the great magicians at Chakaha, and she was mother to this line of emperors.
‘You have had a century of truce with the Tsurani, despite occasional conflicts, but these have been no more than your own clan struggles. This world I speak of is vast, and the highlands are a great distance from where the Tsurani will reside, and if you wish, you can ignore them for another century.’
Several of the chieftains nodded, as if this were a good thing.
‘Or you can reach an accord and forge a treaty that will last for generations. But none of this can come to pass if you do not leave these highlands, for death approaches rapidly and will be upon you suddenly’
The Kaliane stood. ‘I would speak with this Great One alone,’ she said and her tone indicated that she was not asking for permission. ‘Walk with me outside, Milamber.’
She took the lead and Pug followed. Once outside, she headed slowly down a trail leading to the larger of the many springs in the area. ‘You speak fairly, Milamber, but many will not believe you,’ she began. ‘They will think this a Tsurani ploy to remove us from our lands, or a trap to lure us to our deaths.’
Pug was tired. He had been through ordeals no man had ever known, and despite the reinvigorating magic Ban-ath had employed, he felt exhausted in his heart and soul. He took a deep breath and said, ‘I know. I can only do so much. I cannot save everyone. I make a simple offer, Kaliane. Within two days I shall open a rift,’ —he looked around and then pointed to a clearing a short distance away— ‘there. It will lead to a highland meadow on the world of which I spoke.’ He took a deep breath. ‘The Thūn will be put on a continent a vast sea away from all humans. It will be years, decades, perhaps even centuries before human refugees and the Thūn meet again. Perhaps by then you’ll have made peace with the Tsurani. I do not know what the Cho-ja say, for another has sought them out. The highlands where I will open the rift is at a great distance from where the Tsurani will arrive – you can avoid them or seek them out as is your pleasure, and either make war or peace, or you can remain here and perish.’ Fatigue crept into his voice. ‘It is all your choice. I can only do so much.’
‘I believe you,’ she said. ‘I will urge the chieftains to send runners and gather the clans.’ She crossed her arms on her chest and looked out over the hills below. ‘These have been our homes since the time of the Golden Bridge, Great One. It will be hard for some to leave.’
‘Some will die,’ Pug said. ‘Some will not get word in time to reach here, and others will be too ill to travel. Some will refuse to leave. All of those will die. It is up to you to save the rest.’
‘You do this thing, why, magician? Why do you struggle to save so many?’
Pug laughed, more out of frustration than humour. ‘Who else would do it? It is my lot. And I do it because it is right that I do so.’
She nodded. ‘You are a good man, Great One. Now, go, and I will do what I can. Will I see you again?’
‘Only the gods know,’ said Pug. ‘If I can visit the highlands where you are to live, I will, but if I don’t, you’ll know that it is for a good reason.’
‘Go with the gods,’ she said, turning to walk back to the long hall and begin what would most certainly be a long and heated debate.
Taking an orb from his robe, Pug triggered it to return to the Assembly, and was gone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE - Onslaught
JIM THREW A DAGGER.
He ducked away behind a rock as the blade struck a Dasati Deathknight in the face, taking him out of the saddle of his varnin. He was immediately trampled by other riders who ignored their fallen comrade as they rode through the canyon.
Reaching a promontory where his companions waited, he said, ‘Time to be going!’