Free Dawn of the Ice Bear by Jeff Mariotte

nodded wearily, and when he raised his head, Gorian stood before him.
    â€œThe boy is correct,” Gorian said. “We owe you a debt of gratitude.”
    â€œI did it for us, not for you,” Kral said. “The lot of you would likely not have sated the appetite of so great a creature.”
    Gorian smiled. “Nonetheless, you and my men battled together, side by side. Since I can only assume that our objectives here in Kuthmet are similar—else why lurk outside the compound of the sorcerer Shehkmi al Nasir?—perhaps we should consider continuing the partnership begun here.”
    â€œI doubt that our objectives are the same,” Kral answered. “I seek to save the Pictish people from certain destruction. Is your cause as clear or worthwhile?”
    Gorian hesitated for only a moment. “I know nothing of a threat to the Picts, or any other people,” he admitted. “I know only that I seek, on behalf of one I serve, a Pictish crown that has come into the possession of the Stygian.”
    â€œThen our immediate goal is the same,” Kral said. “I also seek the crown. But it is after the gaining of it that our intentions surely differ.”
    â€œTrue enough,” Gorian said. His arms were crossed casually over his chest. “Why not ally our efforts, until such time as we have seized it? Mitra knows we’ll have a fight on our hands with al Nasir.”
    â€œAnd when we have it, what then?” Donial asked. “We fight each other?”
    â€œDepending on who is left alive at that time, the issue may have settled itself,” Gorian said. “Or perhaps there’s a way we can both achieve our ends. Whatever you plan to do with the crown may not conflict with what my master desires. It just seems foolish not to combine our forces in order to give ourselves the best chance against the sorcerer.”
    â€œI agree,” Alanya put in. “We know not what we face inside, and even Tarawa can only provide so much assistance. The lot of us working together have a better chance at success than just a few. And if we’re competing with one another for it, our chances are lessened even more.”
    Kral found himself swayed by these arguments. If both groups tried, independently of the other, to get the crown, they would only get in each other’s way. Chances were Shehkmi al Nasir would be able to play them against each other and retain the Teeth for himself. Working together would increase their chances.
    And he had no doubt that, when they had the crown, he would be able to defeat Gorian in combat. The number of mercenaries at his disposal had been severely depleted by one fight after another, and some had not survived the battle with the snake. He counted but six remaining, Gorian included. Most were wounded, a couple bleeding seriously, though they bound their wounds with strips of fabric cut from their clothing.
    Team up now, fight whoever was left for possession of the Teeth. That was a plan Kral could live with.

9
    INSIDE THE COMPOUND of Shehkmi al Nasir, three acolytes walked torchlit passageways, their slippered feet almost silent on the worn stone floors. Two led the way, one carrying a censer that filled their way with strong incense and the other a small chime that gave soft musical tones with every step. Behind them, the third held an ornately carved wooden box, inlaid with precious gems and tiled designs of indescribable beauty. Inside the box, nestled in a bed of black velvet, was the Pictish crown they had acquired in Tarantia. The three chanted quietly, repeating a tune whose words had long since lost their meaning to all but the most dedicated scholars of ancient days.
    The acolyte who carried the box allowed himself a quick smile. He knew this was a solemn occasion and that his master was not a man who appreciated humor or moments of self-congratulation. But the acolyte was young. He had only been in the service of al Nasir for a