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Upon finding out about Bogavus's evil plot, the Spectral Knights had immediately set out for Iron Mountain. Merklynn seemed concerned when Leoric had explained the situation fully.
"I feared this would happen eventually," he told the four knights standing before him. "Bogavus has corrupted most of the monks he was mingling with and taken service under the evil Sanofainus."
With that, Merklynn turned to his magical viewscreen and waved his hand, summoning a scene more ghastly than anything the Spectral Knights had ever before witnessed.
It showed an underground kingdom lit by flaming torches which gave the chilling impression of something very evil. Scores of youths and maidens, including a sizeable number of children, worked without a pause, all of them in chains. Some were hacking rocks off the walls of the cavern and passing them along chain-gangs until the person at the end put the rocks into a wheelbarrow. Each wheelbarrow had a slave chained to the handles, and he or she would periodically trundle the full barrow to where another group of slaves were breaking rocks, while yet more young people waited nearby to dispose of the rubble. Stern-faced guards cruelly flogged the workers with vicious looking cat-o'-nine-tails, sometimes just for the sake of it.
"What's that all about?" demanded Leoric, realising to his horror that this was what lay in store for his young friends. The idea that such brutality was happening on Prysmos offended everything Leoric stood for and the tone in his voice left those within earshot in no doubt that he would put a stop to it no matter what.
"They are the slaves of Sanofainus," Merklynn replied. "And, seven months ago, that was the Lost Shrine."
"You still haven't explained what they're doing," interjected Cryotek, a note of impatience in his voice.
"During the First Age of Magic, seven Magic Crystals were created - Crystals so powerful that their creators feared they would fall into the wrong hands," Merklynn explained. "So they were buried deep underground, in the foundations of the Lost Shrine and the one parchment that revealed their whereabouts was hidden where no-one would ever find it . . ."
"Except a wizard," Ectar added grimly. "If my guess is right, Bogavus found it and got this Sanofainus in on the act - either that or Sanofainus somehow found out on his own and decided he'd move into the Lost Shrine."
"Your second guess is closest to the truth, Ectar," Merklynn replied. "Just after you left the Anarchy Zone the first time, he set about enslaving all the young people living near the Lost Shrine . . ." The wizard paused and paced the floor for a moment before continuing. "I had hoped this would never affect you directly, but, since it has, it makes your mission even more urgent."
"Why is that, Merklynn?" asked Leoric, aware of a strange sense of foreboding.
"The Crystals must never be looked at by a magic-user," replied Merklynn. "Otherwise, that person's own magic will turn against them."
With that grim warning, Merklynn dismissed the Spectral Knights.
Bogavus and his gang pressed the prisoners very hard, determined to get well away from New Valarak before Leoric sent someone to follow them or - more likely - set out personally to rescue his captive friends. Walking through heavy rain was far from easy at the best of times, but chains and the constant beatings made matters worse for the captives.
The wet weather presented its own hazards. Arzon slipped in a puddle and fell flat on his face, almost pulling Galadria and Fletchen, who were chained behind him, over as well. Vurus saw this as an obvious case of delaying tactics, something he was not in the mood for. He stormed over to Arzon, roughly pulled him into a sitting position and raised his strap to beat him.
"On your feet, slave!" he ordered. "Don't stand gawping! Get marching, the lot of you!" he yelled at the others.
"Listen," said Dagan as the column began to move again, "next time you fall, get up immediately - before one of the slavers spots you. It's the only way you can stay out of trouble."
Further down the line, a young slaver named Brother Delven strode casually over to Fletchen and began to bait her.
"Hello, my dear - Fletchen, isn't it?" he gloated. "I couldn't help noticing, but you and Leoric seem awfully close."
"What's it to you?" demanded Fletchen, not caring for the tone in his voice. It was bad enough being a prisoner and made to march through a driving storm and the last thing she needed was suggestive comments from her captors.
"Talking of Leoric, is he as valiant a fighter as they say?" Delven went on, warming to his plan. "Because Bogavus "dealt with" your beloved father and some Khemirite whelp as well - killed 'em! So I don't think you'll see them again!"
"No!" Fletchen yelled, striking Delven with her chains as the enormity of his words dawned on her. "You liar! I'll kill you!"
Feryl, walking ahead of Fletchen, heard the commotion and wished he could assume his Wolf form and teach the slaver-monk some manners. But being chained to eighteen other people made shapeshifting an unwise move; any loose objects a Visionary was touching at such moments was absorbed into the animal's shape. Instead he ran at Delven, dragging the other prisoners with him, and started punching and kicking as the others watched nervously.
"You - you filthy murdering scum!" Feryl said as he shoved Delven to the ground. "If Leoric was here right now, he'd . . ."
Before Feryl could finish his sentence, several slavers came charging down the line with their straps raised ready to deal with the two insubordinates. Between them, they quickly beat Feryl and Fletchen back into line, keeping their friends from interfering by brandishing their straps at any who showed any sign of moving. Fletchen, however, jerked the chain rebelliously, her long light-brown plait whipping out behind her.
"One day, I'll escape!" she vowed. "And, when I do, nothing will stop me avenging my father's death!"
"You won't get free!" smirked Brother Delven. "No-one ever escapes from Sanofainus!"
Bogavus halted the slaves on a deserted farm and chained them to a gatepost. Grateful for the long-awaited rest, they slumped down on the wet ground while the slavers set up their own campsite nearby. Dagan sat with his chains dangling between his knees and let his mind drift.
"Phew - at least it's stopped raining now," Pallenne remarked. "How much more have we got to put up with?"
"I've no idea, Pallenne," replied Dagan. "I don't even know where they're taking us."
"One of them mentioned Sanofainus earlier," Fletchen chipped in. "Could that have something to do with it?"
"Could be," Arzon admitted with a shrug. "There was a master criminal by that name; he disappeared years ago. At least that's what I've read . . ."
Galadria was the eldest of the six companions, but even she was too young to remember Sanofainus at first hand. "It was a long time ago - I was just a little girl then," she explained when they turned to her. "It's a pity you don't have your Staff, Arzon; you could have asked it what Sanofainus - if it is Sanofainus we're being taken to - wants with us."
Arzon had been thinking along much the same lines, but there was little he - or anyone else - could do under their current circumstances. "I've a feeling we'll find out soon enough," he said at last. "Right now, I'm too tired to bother." With that, he lay back on the damp grass and was asleep within seconds.
"It's time we all got some sleep," said Galadria. "If tomorrow's anything like today . . ."
"Feryl! Hey, Feryl!"
Feryl woke with a start at the sharp nudge from Arzon. The first Sun had just risen and the second was peering over the horizon, bringing with it the promise of a fine day in contrast to yesterday's downpour. Feryl glanced at his companions, noting that he and Arzon were the only ones awake. Next to them, Galadria mumbled something in her sleep and rolled onto her side.
"What's going on?" Feryl asked sleepily, none too pleased at being disturbed.
"Your snoring woke me up," replied Arzon.
Feryl woke up properly and sat up, glaring at Arzon. "I do not snore!" he retorted.
"And when have you been awake to hear yourself?"
"Actually, you were doing your share earlier. Besides . . ."
The others were woken by their voices. "Look," interjected Galadria, realising that quarrels were the last thing they needed under their current circumstances, "never mind who does and who doesn't snore - we're all in this together, so . . ."
"What's all the shouting about?" demanded Brother Vurus. He was standing with Brother Galm, another slaver, directly in front of Arzon. Between them, they had hold of a bewildered little girl about Pallenne's age, an attractive youngster with long flaxen hair and blue-grey eyes that bore an expression of stunned surprise at the situation she now found herself in.
"Nothing really," replied Arzon. "We thought we heard a wild animal - that's all."
Vurus grunted as he chained the girl between Galadria and Fletchen. "Glad you're all so wide awake!" he said sarcastically. "The rest of you, get up - we're moving as soon as Bogavus is ready."
As they began the day's march, the girl who had just been captured touched Galadria's arm. "Who are these men?" she asked. "Are they always this nasty?"
Galadria, who could see herself as a pre-teenager in the youngster, nodded. "The wizard Bogarvis and his slavers," she replied. "And I don't much care for what I've seen of them so far. But I don't think we've been introduced," she added. "I'm Galadria of the Spectral Knights - what's your name?"
"Yilly."
"That's a pretty name."
"Glad you like it," said Yilly. "I think it's silly. I'm the only daughter in a family of seven - and only two of my brothers are younger than me. So my parents were so used to having boys that, when I was born, they hadn't bothered to think of any girls' names. It was my Mum who named me after my grans - their names were Yilthi and Nianna, so Mum put them together to get Yilthinianna. I'm called Yilly for short."
She paused and stared at the sky. "I bet my folks'll rescue us soon," she said cheerfully. "They're certain to have missed me by now. And I've heard about how the Spectral Knights never let each other down."
Trailing Bogavus was proving nigh on impossible. The Spectral Knights knew the general direction they had to head, but the rain had washed away any footprints that might indicate the route Bogavus and his party had taken. To further complicate matters, they would have to make the long journey on foot; the Capture Chariot was useless without Feryl and the Lancer Cycle was only designed for two riders. And that, Leoric thought bitterly, made the delays caused by the lack of a clear trail even more frustrating.
It was tempting - very tempting - to call on the Owl of Wisdom. But he checked himself as he reached for his Power Staff; it would be some time before he had a chance to recharge it and he, Cryotek and Witterquick had consequently agreed not to use their Staffs unless they had to.
Ectar had been a detective before the Alignment, but even he was unsure of the exact direction Bogarvis was heading. Leaning against a tree, he voiced his opinions out loud.
"If only Feryl wasn't one of the captives. If he was with us, I bet he could sniff those ruffians out with that nose of his."
"Aye, you're right, Ectar," said Cryotek. "Right now, we could use Arzon to scout ahead for us." Leoric glanced at the Spectral Knight closest to his own age - it was hard to tell if Cryotek was being off-hand as he was not inclined to talk much and could be rather moody if challenged. A "grumpy old bear" was how Galadria had once half-jokingly described him.
A sudden outburst of loud arguing issuing from the west cut through Leoric's thoughts. The quarrelers were too far away to be heard clearly, but there appeared to be more than two people involved - that much was certain.
"Come on!" called Witterquick as he raced off in the direction of the voices. "Whoever it is, they'll kill each other if we don't stop them!"
A mob comprising a man and woman in their forties as well as six youths, evidently the couple's sons, had tied a man to a tree and appeared to be trying to extract a confession out of him.
"Look, you!" shouted the eldest son, who might have been about Feryl's age. "Tell us what you've done with our Yilthinianna, or . . ."
"Rubbish - I've never even seen a Yilthina, or whatever you call it!" shouted the prisoner. Judging by his appearence - faded jeans and a blue shirt, as well as the backpack on the ground - he was someone used to exploring and it sounded as though the people attacking him had lost someone or something called Yilthinianna.
"Liar!" retorted another of the youths.
"Yes - lying through his teeth he is!"
"Can't face the consequences, eh?"
"Coward!"
"Most bullies are, Mirak."
"Look - just tell us the truth."
The Spectral Knights knew immediately that they had to do something to break up this confrontation before it got any uglier - maybe then, they could get some answers from the people involved. Moving as one, they assumed their Totem forms and charged at the attackers; taken completely by surprise and faced with what appeared to be wild animals, they began to back away, the youngest boy clinging nervously to his mother's hand.
"What're they doing, Mum?" he asked.
"I don't know, Rarn," she whispered back. "But they seem to be . . ."
She was cut off abruptly as the animals surrounding them disappeared to be replaced by four knights, each with a picture of one of the creatures on his chest-plate. The entire group stood speechless, all thought of trying to extract confessions forgotten, at the sight of the newcomers.
"Sorry about that," Ectar said, smiling as he recalled how unnerving some people found the Spectral Knights' shapeshifting abilities.
While his companions kept the family in check, Leoric set to work untying the prisoner. "Thanks - I was beginning to think I'd had it," the man admitted. "I'm Gawalar and I'm from Mecron. My son, Dagan was snatched by the wizard Bogavus and I was out searching for him when this mad lot grabbed hold of me."
There was a glint in the oldest youth's eyes, a look of triumph as he cottoned on to what Gawalar meant. "Ho!" he declared triumphantly. "I might have known Bogavus took Yilthinianna!"
"I'm afraid I don't understand," interjected Leoric, well aware that every second they wasted brought his captive friends closer to the doom that awaited them in the Lost Shrine. "Who are all of you and who is Yilthinianna?"
The woman looked at him briefly. "You're from New Valarak, aren't you?" she commented. "I can tell by your accent. As for who we are, my name's Atla and this is my husband, Lorro - he's a travelling pedlar. These . . ." She indicated each of the youths in turn. ". . . are our six sons - Detrel, Zirion, Mirak, Patrar, Akronel and Rarn. We've got a daughter too; her name's Yilthinianna, but everyone calls her Yilly. Well, we did have a daughter until Bogavus paid us a visit," she added bitterly.
Leoric, feeling a pang of empathy for Atla's loss of someone close to her, touched her arm. "I know exactly how you feel," he told her.
Atla backed away. Too much had happened to her today, a day which had begun with the discovery that her only daughter was missing. Yilly had gone out at first light to gather firewood - and never returned . . . "How could you know?" she demanded angrily. "Do you have a daughter?"
"No, but Bogavus came to New Valarak two days ago," Leoric replied. And he told her everything Merklynn had told the Spectral Knights about Sanofainus. "Five were taken that day," he explained, "including the three youngest members of our order . . ."
"Your . . . order?" repeated Lorro, who had not spoken until then, as something dawned on him. "You'll be the Spectral Knights then; I've heard talk of you."
"So," Gawalar added as he realised for the first time that, despite what they had done to him, he and his would-be attackers were on the same side, "it looks as though we all have scores to settle with Bogarvis. I vote we join forces and give that degenerate wizard what for."
"I have customers to attend to," Lorro pointed out. "But there's no reason why Atla can't go."
"I'm going too," added Detrel, the eldest of the six sons. He brandished a quarterstaff with a rakish air that suggested he was prepared to do whatever it took to rescue his sister.
"No, Detrel," his mother told him in a voice that clearly said there would be no arguments. "The risks are too high - if we fail . . . well, I don't want any more of my family enslaved."
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