The next day, at dawn, the Green Swan slipped past the rugged cliffs of the western end of Hok. Sarazin, promenading on the deck, surveyed the shore, which was barely half a league away. Those cliffs must be those of the enclave of X-zox, and he himself could most certainly see no place which promised a landing.
He looked inland, up a valley rugged but green, to the heights at the head of the valley, some ten leagues or so from the shore. Something gleamed on those heights. Was it the Greater Tower of Castle X-n'dix? What else could it be? The dragon-encumbered tower was bone white and stood half a league tall. -So that must be it.
But no details could be told from this distance. Still, Sarazin would be there soon enough. A few leagues to the south, the coastline bent away to the east. The ship would turn to follow the coast, and, shortly, would land him on the shores of the Willow Vale. From there he could march overland to X-n'dix. -Ogres and such permitting, of course. So thought Sean Sarazin.
But, as the morning wore on, the ship did not turn east. Instead, it continued south. What lay due south? Why, only Stokos. That was all.
Then… Sarazin went and confronted Lord Regan.
'As I told you before,' said Lord Regan, sadly, 'in the war between Hok and Stokos, the wizards who are my masters favour Stokos. And I have sworn an oath of fealty to my masters. Now – must I put you in irons below decks? Or will you swear to behave yourself?'
'Tell me first,' said Sarazin, 'are we truly bound for Stokos? And what fate awaits me there?'
We are indeed bound for Stokos,' said Lord Regan, 'and are more than half way there. Your parents are in Hok, so Stokos can make good use of you as a hostage. Also – Stokos needs the secret of the Passage Gates if it is to conquer Hok entire.'
'This is bitter news,' said Sarazin, 'and much I could say which I will not. Well then… I will swear to make no move against you. We will behave as people of breeding should. Till the end.'
'Sean,' said Lord Regan, 'that's spoken as a man. And I will most certainly take you at your word.'
There, then, the matter should have ended. The making of oaths is the most sacred undertaking of manhood, for if men were not true to their word then trust would become impossible. And, if trust became impossible, then only the most barbaric expedients of murder and genocide could secure peace between men and between nations.
Thus Sean Sarazin, having given his word, should have gone into captivity. However, unfortunately Sarazin had long lived in Selzirk, a vicious city given to degenerate ways. And there he had frequented with lawyers, whose crime against humanity is the systematic perversion of language.
Moreover… it was not just lawyers who had taught Sarazin bad habits. For even the Rovac warrior Thodric Jarl had once shown him how to worm his way out of an oath. Thus, though Sarazin had once sworn to go questing for the tectonic lever, he had never made the slightest attempt to do so. So…
Sean Sarazin had sworn to make no move against Lord Regan, therefore he would not. However, reason- ing like a lawyer, he argued that his dwarf was an entity separate from himself, therefore instructing his dwarf to attack Lord Regan would not constitute oathbreaking.
And even if it did – frankly, after all he had been through, Sean Sarazin was not prepared to be thwarted at the last moment. In Hok there was life, liberty and friendship. In Stokos, only stifling imprisonment, and torture perhaps, and quite possibly death. So Sean Sarazin instructed Glambrax – and gave him the green candle.
The green candle. Oh most precious of enchanted objects! The last of his remaining gifts from the druid he had encountered so long ago in the forests of Chenameg. The ring of invisibility had failed him, the dragon- bottle had proved a bitter disappointment, and the magic mudstone had long since been used, but the candle remained.
What would it do? Summon a dragon, a genie, a ghost, a wraith? Call up ghouls and demons? Satisfy wishes? Or do something miraculous but utterly useless? Sarazin could only hope.
Glambrax acted that evening. When Lord Regan was dining in his cabin with wife, dwarf and Farfalla's son, Glambrax took it upon himself to open the lanterns one by one and trim the candles within. When he came to the last lantern, he took out the green candle. And lit it.