CHAPTER 3WARLOCK ON WATCH
The missing sentry was a man called Yartha—unlike Ahd, a grown man, a seasoned warrior and a veteran huntsman, alert, wary and sober. Not a man to stray off into the night, or to start at strange shadows. He had vanished as if he had melted into empty air itself.
“Ai, Wolf!” grumbled old Khun, gnawing worriedly on his underlip. “It begins again, the sentries vanishing or going mad, as back in dire Ashangabar…you bring us ill-luck, Warlock!”
Kellory met his questioning eyes with a grim, somber glare.
“In Ashangabar, the peril was none of my doing, and I tracked it to its lair and slew it forever,” he reminded the desert chief. “Even as I slew the mandragon who killed one of your warriors ere ever we reached the Dead City. Blame not these things on me, old Hawk—
