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.Pelias and his helper carried me to the brink of the gateway and stopped, and I found myself staring up at the sharp teeth of the great portcullis.An iron plate clanged open behind a peephole in the wall, and a man asked, "Pelias, what do you have there?""Mukhtar the Mad," answered my friend."He is grievously wounded and needs a healer.""Not on my watch, he doesn't!" came the reply."What's wrong with you? You heard the Keeper's order!""Aye, but you haven't heard what happened to Mukhtar.He was attacked by the Foul One." "Cyric?""Who else?" Pelias started forward, guiding us toward a dark corner."Why don't you fetch Brother Risto? I'm certain he and the Keeper will want to speak with Mukhtar themselves."The iron plate slammed into place, and we waited in the shadows of the archway for a time.I felt many eyes watching me from the darkness and heard soft voices rustling down from the murder holes.I was careful to moan and cry out often, so they would know how grievous were my wounds and not think me capable of doing harm.Now that I was here on the very porch of Candlekeep, there arose in my breast a dim hope that I might find the Cyrinishad, and having found it, a fainter hope that I might recover it and escape the many torments awaiting me in the City of the Dead.This was foolish, but in his despair, a damned man will grasp at any chance.After a time, there came a faint murmur behind the gate, which soon built to an officious drone.As I had heard a similar noise many times in the Caliph's palace, I knew that Ulraunt, the Keeper of the Tomes himself, was coming with his entourage.I prepared my mind with many fawning remarks, for I had heard the monks speak of him and knew he thought well of himself and that he valued those who did the same.Two thumps sounded on the other side of the gate.When the wicket door swung open, I was set upon at once by an unpleasant odor.It was faint, yet it was also so foul and corrupt that it could have been the fetor of death pushing up through a grave.I was much amazed at this, for the monks were very clean and wholesome in their habits.Pelias switched his grasp on the litter and passed through the wicket door backward.He had to stoop low to avoid hitting his head, for the portal was constructed to allow a man passage only if he crawled or crouched upon his haunches.As soon as I was through, a veritable throng descended on us, trapping Pelias's helper against the gate.The crowd included not only monks, but warriors of the many companies that had come to aid Candlekeep.I recognized only a few of their insignias: among these were the Flaming Fists, the Hellriders of Elturel, the Silent Rain, and some others of lesser consequence.I also recognized the black-veiled woman I had glimpsed that very morning, riding on a hippogriff and scanning the plain with her kohl-rimmed eyes.She made me most anxious, as she never looked away from my face, and I thought she might be a True Believer sent to watch over me.Then I glimpsed a pin she wore, a silver harp inside a crescent moon, and I knew her to be one of the Harpers, a band of meddling fools who send their agents far and wide to interfere in other people's business.There was also the guardian of the Cyrinishad, the warrior who had almost killed me the night of the book's arrival.Of all the soldiers gathered there, only he was dressed in full armor, down to his gauntlets and greaves.I could tell that he recognized me, for his visor was up and he was scowling fiercely.A bearded monk in a brown robe emerged from the throng.He pointed a gleaming black rod at my head.I averted my eyes, for the man was known to me as Risto, Keeper of the Portal, and I had learned to keep my distance when he came to inspect the Low Gate."Pelias!" said Risto."What is the meaning of this?""I think we can see what the meaning is," said another man, who was dressed in a robe of palest blue.He stepped to Risto's side and stooped over me, taking in my many wounds."This man came to the Low Gate seeking help, and Pelias ignored orders and let him in."Although I had never laid eyes on the Keeper of the Tomes before in my life, I could tell by his cunning gaze and regal manner, and also by the diffidence with which the crowd parted to let him pass, that this was Ulraunt."Most Merciful Geyser of Knowledge, pray forgive my intrusion, for it was not my own doing," said I."I did not come to the Low Gate seeking help, but to give it.I begged Pelias most sincerely not to take me in, but only to let me speak, that I might warn him not to raise the portcullis or to open the gate, for Cyric himself is lurking out upon the plain!"Many in the throng gasped and inched back, but the Harper woman and the Cyrinishad's bearer pushed closer and glared at me more intently.Ulraunt laid a gentle hand upon my arm."Don't worry, Mukhtar.We're not going to whip you for needing help [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]