EIGHTEEN - Regroup

Smoke blinded the defenders.

James had managed to sleep for an hour, Locklear for two, and as ordered, soldiers had stood watch on the wall through the night, sleeping in shifts.

James now squinted through the smoke, from his headquarter position on the gatehouse, as the smouldering ruins of the two siege towers filled the air with an acrid haze. Even the morning breeze wouldn’t help, since it would continue to blow the smoke at the wall. The night sky had lightened as the sun rose behind the defenders. Soon it would clear the top of the mountains. Some time between now and then, James knew, the enemy would attack again.

He looked down and saw bodies floating in the moat, both attackers and defenders. They looked thick enough to walk over to reach the drawbridge, he thought.

Reports had been coming in from every position of defence in the castle and James knew the sickening truth: they could not hold another day. Unless the attackers were criminally stupid or fate took a hand, the castle of Northwarden would fall before sundown.

James had already conceived half a dozen ways he could take the castle were he commanding the attackers, then had tried to imagine countering each of those offensives. Each time he came away realizing he just didn’t have enough men if they tried anything other than a single-front assault. Something as basic as storming the gate road while sending goblin climbers up the north slope once more would overtax his defenders and make it impossible to stop one of the two fronts.

Locklear came and asked, ‘What do we do?’

James said, ‘I’m thinking of abandoning the outer wall and moving all the soldiers into the inner keep.’

Locklear shook his head in an exhausted admission of defeat. ‘I can’t think of anything better to do. It will make them spend more lives and waste more time taking the castle.’

‘But it will make it impossible for us to hold.’

‘Do you think we have any hope of holding?’

‘Right now I’m trying to come up with a brilliant plan to sneak around behind Delekhan’s lines and attack him from the rear.’

A sergeant, still covered in blood from the day before, approached. ‘Report,’ said James.

‘Three more men died during the night, squire. We have one hundred and fifty able-bodied men on the walls, another seventy walking wounded who can still fight, and some of the more mobile injured are helping out in the Great Hall.’ The Great Hall had been converted to an infirmary where nearly a hundred soldiers of Northwarden lay dying for lack of the skills of a healer.

James shook his head. ‘Let the men rest until the enemy attacks again. Get as much food and water to the men on the walls as you can. The only way we get another hot meal is to win this battle.’

The sergeant said, ‘Yes, squire,’ and hurried off.

Patrus came walking up the steps that led up the wall to the gatehouse, looking very tired. The old magician said, ‘I’ve done all I can with the wounded. What can I do here?’

James said, ‘Figure out a way to keep the enemy away from one of two places, the north wall or the east gate; either one, I don’t care.’

‘Too much wall and not enough soldiers?’ asked the old man.

‘Something like that,’ said Locklear.

Patrus said, ‘Well, if they don’t clear away all those bodies down there on the road before they attack again, I can help you out on that front. The more metal down there touching the ground, the better. Move some of your boys to the north wall.’

‘What can you do?’ asked James.

With an evil grin, the old man said, ‘What, and spoil the surprise? No, you just wait, sonny, and when the time comes, I’ll give you a show.’

‘I’m not interested in a show. How much time can you buy us?’ asked James.

‘A few hours, depending on how much courage those moss troopers can muster after I smack them around a bit.’

‘Give me two hours to defend the north wall before I have to turn my attention to the east gate, and we may buy ourselves another day.’

‘You just watch me,’ said Patrus. ‘Now, I’ve got to go to my room and get a few things.’ He hurried off.

Locklear turned to James and, despite his exhaustion, said, ‘Isn’t he about the most evil old man you’ve ever met?’

‘No,’ said James. Then he smiled and added, ‘But he does get close.’ Drums sounded in the distance, and James announced, ‘They’re on their way.’

Shouts from the north wall alerted James that goblin climbers were again trying to work their way up the face of the cliff. They had exhausted their supply of stones to scrape the climbers off the cliff, as well as every piece of furniture, crockery, kitchen utensil and tool they could spare, and most of the water they didn’t need for drinking had been boiled and spilled. Now they were forced to spend valuable arrows trying to pick them off one at a time, exposing their own archers to fire from below.

Patrus returned and said, ‘Give me room.’ He sat down on the stones, crosslegged, and put a small bowl in front of him. ‘It’s taken me a week to get everything ready for this. Now, shut up and don’t disturb me unless the world’s about to end.’

He dumped the contents of a small pouch - a lumpy mass of powders and what seemed to be small stones or rocks - into the bowl then closed his eyes. He chanted a short phrase, opened his eyes, and extended his index finger. A small flame erupted from the end of it, and he lit the contents of the bowl. Instantly the flame transferred to the contents of the bowl. A green and blue cloud of smoke, far thicker and more abundant than either James or Locklear would have thought possible, billowed up out of the bowl, and reached the stone ceiling of the gatehouse. The smoke seemed to recoil from the stones and Patrus waved his hand over his head, palm toward the eastern road, as if blowing the smoke in that direction.

Obedient to his gesture, the smoke rolled out the front windows of the gatehouse, thinning as it expanded, and looking more and more like clouds as it hung above the road. James looked and saw a tightly-packed formation of hide-covered shields in the van, a company of goblins marching with trolls behind them. The apelike trolls had massive shoulders on which they easily carried scaling-ladders, and each had a shield on the outside arm, with a warhammer or axe dangling by a leather thong.

‘Troll assault troops?’ Locklear asked.

‘So it seems,’ said James. ‘I’ve not heard of any such before, but if they’re serious about coming up those ladders, we have a problem.’ Trolls were not significantly better fighters than goblins or moredhel, but they were a great deal more difficult to kill. Whoever led the opposing forces must have correctly guessed that the defenders were bordering on exhaustion.

In the smoke from torches and the smouldering towers, Patrus’s mystic smoke was hardly noticed. As they watched, James and Locklear both saw that the smoke was thicker.

As the attackers came within bow-range, archers on the walls began firing. James was appalled by how few arrows were flying from the defenders. He could taste defeat.

Then a low rumbling started below the castle and James touched the wall. He felt the low thrum of energy coming from the earth.

The attackers took no notice of it until the level of the vibration became obvious to marching feet, even to those running forward with the heavy ladders. The attack faltered.

Then Patrus let out a cackle and shouted, ‘Hang on, boys!’

The castle seemed to heave.

A full half of the attackers were knocked off their feet. The sound of the earthquake drowned out the noise of battle.

And then the sky exploded.

A bolt of lightning struck the armour of an attacker on the ground, knocking down a full dozen comrades around him. It was followed the barest instant later by an explosion of thunder, which made the ears ring. The air reeked of the acrid lightning smell and the stench of burning flesh. Moredhel, goblins and trolls lay writhing in agony, their skin smoking from the flash.

Then another bolt struck the ground a few feet away, killing another dozen. An instant later, a bolt struck a moredhel with an upraised sword, illuminating him in a blinding white flash for an instant before he exploded in a fireball, killing most of those standing near him.

James ducked behind the wall, and yanked Locklear by the tunic, pulling him down. ‘Get behind the wall!’ he shouted to the men atop the gatehouse, and the order was relayed along the eastern wall. Bolt after bolt erupted from Patrus’s mystic cloud and each was accompanied by a monstrous peal of thunder. Men clutched their ears lest they grow deaf from the sound of them.

James wished he could somehow crawl down the stairs and reach the haven offered by the lowest basement of the castle, then wondered if that would be deep enough. He could barely imagine what it was like for those exposed on the road below.

Over and over the lightning blasted, until suddenly there was silence. The instant the noise stopped, the vibration of the earthquake ceased as well.

James leaped up and looked over the wall to see the army that had only minutes before been attacking now in total rout as it fled down the hill. At least a thousand attackers lay dead on the road leading to the castle, many trampled to death by their own comrades.

James knelt down next to Patrus who blinked his eyes and said, ‘How’d that do?’

‘It did the trick. They’re in total flight.’

Locklear leaned over behind his friend. ‘What do you call that?’

‘Don’t have a proper name. It was taught me by a fellow down in Salador, who had learned it from a Priest of Killian, but he had to change it. I think of it as “Killian’s Rage”.’ He stood up. ‘Always wanted to try it out, but never had anyone I was mad enough at to risk it.’ He moved to the wall and looked between two merlons. Noting the number of bodies, he said, ‘Worked better than I thought.’

James shouted, ‘How’s the north wall?’

A voice called back, ‘They fell off with the earthquake.’

James put his hand on Patrus’s shoulder. ‘You bought us some time.’

Locklear sank down next to where they stood and leaned back against the stones. ‘I can’t move.’

James reached down and hauled him back to his feet. ‘You must. They will be back. Unless Patrus can duplicate that little surprise again?’

Patrus shook his head. ‘If I had the makin’s, but it would take a while to put it together, and I’d have to get out in the woods and look around a bit.’

Locklear said, ‘One thing bothers me.’

‘What?’ asked James.

‘Where are their magicians?’

James’s eyes widened. ‘Gods! If that little display didn’t bring them running, they’re nowhere near here.’

‘What’s that mean?’ asked Locklear.

‘It means we’ve been duped.’

‘I don’t understand,’ said Locklear, sinking back down to sit on the stones.

‘If they’re not here, they’re somewhere else!’ said Patrus. ‘I know you’re tired, but that’s no excuse for stupidity!’

‘Leave me alone,’ said Locklear in feigned self-pity. ‘I’m enjoying my delusion. Even now I just imagined I heard a Kingdom trumpet blowing in the distance.’

James halted, and listened. ‘You’re not deluded. I hear it too.’

James climbed up on the wall, his youth as a thief giving him the keen balance and steel nerves needed to step atop the merlons of the wall and stare into the distance. The smoke was still making it difficult to see, but after a moment, James shouted, ‘I see Arutha’s banner!’ He jumped down, and said, ‘Lower the drawbridge!’

James hurried down the steps, rejuvenated, with Locklear and Patrus following. By the time they reached the marshalling yard, the portcullis had risen high enough for James to duck under. He did so and ran to the end of the lowering drawbridge, jumping off before it touched ground.

He had his sword in hand in case one of the bodies wasn’t as dead as it looked, but by the time he reached the bottom of the road, Arutha and his personal guards were riding to meet him. Stopping before the monarch of the Western Realm, he said, ‘I was beginning to believe you were going to miss all the fun!’

‘I wouldn’t have you think I was impolite,’ said Arutha. ‘How are the men?’

‘Doing badly. Baron Gabot and his officers were murdered. Most of the men are dead or wounded, the few that aren’t are exhausted. Another day and you would have found us all dead. Not to sound impolite, but what took you so long?’

‘We came as soon as we got word. Your messengers were ambushed and abducted and it took them a little while to escape and reach me. They arrived only three weeks ago. What of support from the south?’

‘None. I sent word to Romney, Dolth, even to Rillanon.’

‘Others may be coming,’ said Arutha, ‘or those messengers were also ambushed. Owyn told me that you killed the head of the Nighthawks, but they still must have had agents in place before that.’

James said, ‘I fear we may never truly see that nest of murderers obliterated. They are like the legendary snake of the Keshian Underworld: cut off its head and it grows back.

‘But more to the point, we think all this may have been a ploy.’

Looking at the evidence of destruction all around him, Arutha said, An expensive ploy.’

‘But a ploy nonetheless. When Patrus, the old magician we met up here, used his magic, there was no answering magic’

Arutha said, ‘What of those who are called the Six?’

‘When we last heard they were still in the west.’

‘The west!’ Arutha swore. ‘This may have been a terrible ploy, one sold convincingly on the lives of thousands of soldiers to get us to move from the Dimwood.’

‘Have you moved all your forces?’

‘No, the garrison near Sethanon was left in place, but I brought the rest of my companies with me. I will send patrols up into the passes to see how many of the enemy are arrayed against us.’

Arutha looked worried, an expression James had seen on many occasions, and rarely without justification. ‘Let’s get to the castle, relieve your command, Seigneur, and sort this out.’

Arutha turned and passed orders to a young officer, then said, ‘I’ve left Gardan near Highcastle, and Captain Philip at the Sethanon garrison. I think between the two of them we can hope they’ll keep Delekhan from achieving an easy strike by this ploy.’ Then he looked at James. ‘But after you’ve eaten, slept, and eaten again, I want you and Locklear and a fast patrol heading back to Sethanon.’

James grimaced. ‘Those long rides, again?’

‘I’ve got a healing priest with us; I’ll ask if he has anything to ease your pain.’

James looked at Arutha to see if he was joking and when James saw he wasn’t, said, ‘Very well.’

Arutha’s concern was obvious and James asked, ‘What is it, Highness? I’ve known you too long not to recognize that look.’

‘Just worried about Owyn and Gorath. I sent them to fetch Pug because of what they said about the Six, but if they were ambushed between Malac’s Cross and Krondor, or if Pug had left Krondor on one of his mysterious jaunts and Katala couldn’t find him, or any number of such problems, well, when the Six appear, I suspect we would be well served by a magician.’

James grinned. ‘I have one.’

‘Someone responsible for that lightning display we witnessed as we approached?’ Arutha mounted his horse.

‘Yes.’ James started walking back toward the castle. ‘He’s an original and I think you’ll find him entertaining. At least for a few minutes.’

Arutha smiled his half-smile and James felt better for that.

Gorath looked at the snare and kept motionless. The creature looked like an armoured rabbit, or a turtle with long legs, but either way it was the only edible creature they’d encountered so far that wasn’t an insect. Two other creatures had proven inedible after being caught. This world abounded in insects, from tiny gnatlike fliers that would swarm to plague Gorath when he tried to remain motionless, to cockroachlike creatures that were as long as his forearm.

He had identified half a dozen edible roots and a prickly fruit that tasted like a sour melon and possessed a tough, stringy pulp, but which contained a lot of water.

They had found a well near the ancient temple, and had created a water bag out of an old piece of leather they had found in the temple.

Gorath!

Just a moment, he tried to think back. It was still difficult for Gamina and him to speak compared to her and the other humans, but he was getting better. He had to focus his thoughts. He imagined himself shouting at her. I am about to catch supper, he thought.

He received a non-verbal sense of patience.

The armoured rabbit moved and he pulled the snare, tangling the right hind leg. He was on the creature in a moment, and having learned by trial and error, had the creature upside down, so it was forced to stick its neck out. He broke it and quickly had it out of the shell. He had learned to their collective distress that if you didn’t get the creature out of its shell within minutes of killing it, the flesh quickly tainted and the resulting stomach distress was extremely unpleasant. He cut the meat out of the shell and deposited it in his travel pouch.

He turned and hurried toward Gamina. ‘What is it? he asked, knowing she’d hear his mind before her ears would register his words.

Owyn and Father have found another cache of mana.

‘Do they think we have enough?’

Maybe, she said, as he hiked into view.

She turned and he followed her down the path to the entrance to the abandoned temple. For whatever reason, religious prohibition, fear of the Valheru, or fear of Gorath, Pug and Owyn, the serpent-men had not attempted to enter this area.

They had attacked the second time Pug and Owyn went looking for more mana, for Pug had a plan to activate the abandoned rift machine. Gamina had tried to read their minds and had come away confused, for the Panath-Tiandn, who called themselves the Shangri, were a strange mix of very simple and very clever thinking. They were primitive and superstitious in their daily life, almost animalistic in their thinking, but brilliant in the manipulation of magic. Pug commented that it was ironic they were imprisoned on a planet, which they called Timiri, where magic had to be harvested like a crop.

Pug had declared them magic artisans, probably responsible for the construction of devices for Alma-Lodaka. Given his experiences with the Pantathians, who were obviously related to the Panath-Tiandn, Pug assumed that the ancient Valheru had intentionally limited the scope of their intelligence, keeping it focused where it served her.

How they had managed to survive on this blasted world was rapidly becoming apparent to Gorath and the humans, for they had run out of food two days after finding Gamina. It had been a week since, and they were attempting to gather enough of the crystal magic for a plan of Pug’s. Gorath was unsure of how these pieces of ‘frozen magic’ would serve, but he was content to let the human magic-users struggle with that problem. He had elected to concentrate his attentions on finding food. Like many places that are apparently barren at first glance, this world was teeming with life if you knew where to look for it.

Since discovering the rift machine, they had explored the entire island, save for the peaks above the temple. The island was large enough that it took Gorath three days to travel from the northernmost point, where the seven pillars of the gods were located, to the southernmost point. It was roughly half that time to travel east to west, though the journey couldn’t be conducted in a straight line due to the rise of mountains down the centre of the island.

They thought there might be land to the west, or at least Pug thought it likely, making the observation after watching the sunset one night. He had mentioned the effects of light over the water and thickness of clouds and other factors which were only interesting in the abstract, at least to Gorath. Unless they needed to travel to that distant land to find more of the solid magic.

Gamina had a fire ready when Gorath reached the cave and put down his kill. ‘Are we going to try to put your father’s plan to work tonight?’

‘I don’t know,’ she replied.

Gorath watched her, and was forced to admit she was an admirable child, even by his own people’s standards. He knew little of human children, but knew she had to have been subjected to a frightening experience, yet she was calm, focused, and relatively cheerful considering the circumstances.

She was also quite beautiful, after the human fashion, if Gorath could judge such things. She certainly seemed to have Owyn’s attention, though Gorath could tell he was being circumspect either because of her father’s presence or her youth. Perhaps Owyn dreamed of years to come. Again, Gorath was uncertain of these human conventions.

Owyn and Pug appeared with a large bundle of cloth, one of the woven doors pulled from a hut. Pug had observed that with so many huts and so few inhabitants, the population of this area must be falling. He had wondered what the rest of the planet looked like, but had been unwilling to use any of his arts to explore, fearing they needed to hoard as much of this solid magic as possible.

‘I think that should do it,’ said Pug as they put down the bundle.

‘Good,’ said Gorath. ‘I tire of these creatures as our only catch. I would even welcome those stale breadcakes we ate in the mountains, Owyn, for the change they would bring.’

‘As would I,’ said the young magician.

‘What do we do if this doesn’t work?’ asked Gorath.

Pug said, ‘Then we explore the rest of this island, and if there is no way to be found here, we do what we must to build a boat and make our way westward, to the next body of land.’

Owyn closed his eyes and put his thumb and ringer to the bridge of his nose.

‘The headaches, again?’ asked Gamina.

Owyn said, ‘Yes, but it is passing.’ Owyn had been experiencing intermittent but severe headaches since having shared the Cup of Rlynn Skrr with Pug. ‘And it hurts less than before.’

Pug said, ‘When we return to Midkemia, I think, my young friend, you will discover you have powers you never anticipated.’

Sighing, Owyn said, ‘If we get back.’

Pug looked at Owyn and his expression was without doubt. ‘We will get back.’

Owyn said, ‘Very well. What else do we need?’

Pug said, ‘Nothing but knowledge.’ He asked Gorath, ‘Have we explored every chamber in this complex?’

‘Yes,’ said Gorath. ‘As I told you.’

Pug said, ‘Then we should plan on attempting to return tomorrow.’

‘Why not now?’ asked Gorath.

Pug said, ‘Owyn and I will need as much rest as we can before we attempt this. I know much about rifts and their nature, but that machine is of alien design and may not work as the Tsurani machines I’m familiar with. Therefore, I would not care to make a mistake because I was tired. So, in the morning, after we sleep, then we shall try.’

Gorath nodded.

Owyn lay back, tired from the long walk carrying the mana. ‘Gorath, can I ask you a question?’

‘Yes, Owyn,’ said the dark elf.

‘When you bowed before the Queen, I take it that was some ritual, but I don’t understand it.’

Gorath sat back on his heels, thinking. At last he said, ‘When I first beheld Elvandar, I called it Barmalindar, the name of the legendary world of golden perfection all elvenkind believes is its ancestral home.’

‘Fascinating,’ said Pug. ‘I have spoken to Prince Calin and Tomas and other elves, but this is the first I had heard of such legends. I assumed you were originally from Midkemia.’

‘We are, as were the dragons and the Valheru, but there is a spiritual source to our race, beyond Midkemia,’ said Gorath. ‘When we die, we travel to a Blessed Isle, where we join with the Mothers and Fathers who have gone before. But we all come from Barmalindar.’

Gorath looked at Owyn. ‘From time to time, one among my people will hear a call, a tugging, that will compel him to travel to Elvandar. My people will hunt such a one down as a traitor if they can, and kill him before letting him reach Elvandar.’ Gorath closed his eyes and his tone was tinged with regret. ‘In ages past, I did so. But a few get there and those of the eledhel call them “returned”. They take new names and it is as if they had been eledhel all their lives.’

‘What I don’t understand,’ said Owyn, ‘is the Queen saying you had not finished returning. ‘What does that mean?’

‘I still have ties to my past, an obligation which prevents me from completely joining my kin in Elvandar.’

Owyn asked, ‘What obligation? I thought your children dead and your wife had left you?’

Gorath looked at Owyn, and said, ‘I must kill Delekhan.’

Owyn said, ‘Oh,’ and lay back against the cave wall. They all remained silent while Gamina cooked and Pug prepared for his attempt to revive the rift machine the next day.

James had witnessed torture before, but he took no pleasure in it. Yet Arutha was desperate to learn Delekhan’s plan.

The prisoner was some sort of chieftain or captain, but someone who was obviously in a position to know more than the common trolls and goblins who made up the bulk of this company. The half a dozen renegade humans who had been captured made it clear this moredhel was the only one who might know what was going on.

And Arutha knew something profoundly disturbing was going on.

They had sent scouts up the pass and discovered there was no second force waiting to support the first. The force that had been broken at Northwarden was the total of Delekhan’s army in the area. Thousands of warriors, goblins, trolls and the magicians known as the Six were somewhere else.

The moredhel groaned as the ropes were pulled taut. His feet had been tied to two iron rings in the floor, two ropes had been tied to his wrists, and those ropes thrown over a ceiling beam, making a makeshift rack.

Arutha spoke in even tones. ‘Speak, and you’ll see your children grow to adulthood, moredhel. My word on it. I’ll turn you loose as soon as you tell me what I need to know. Where is Delekhan?’

The moredhel looked up, and instead of fear or even hatred, James saw amusement in his face. ‘What does it matter, Prince of the West? If I tell you, you cannot prevent my master from reaching his goal. Release me from these ropes and I will tell you exactly where Delekhan is.’

Arutha nodded and the ropes were released, letting the moredhel fall to the stone floor. Looking up with a glare, the moredhel spat, ‘Delekhan rests in Sar-Sargoth and gathers his army there.’

A captain of the Royal Guard made as if to strike the moredhel, saying, ‘Lying dog,’ but Arutha gripped his hand, preventing him.

‘Why would your master sit on the throne of ancients, while you and your companions spill your blood here in Northwarden?’

‘Because you are here, now, Prince,’ said the moredhel.

‘But I have an army at Highcastle, and another at the Inclindel Gap.’

‘It does not matter, Arutha. Only one small garrison have you left in the Dimwood, and within days my master shall overrun it and the prize shall be ours.’

Arutha’s eyes narrowed. ‘Days . . . ?’ He stood up. ‘Gods! They’re going to use a rift!’

James demanded, ‘How is that possible?’

Arutha said to the captain, ‘Take this one to the gate and turn him loose. I’ll not forswear, but give him no weapon, food or water. Let him plunder his dead comrades if he wishes to survive.’

Soldiers roughly picked up the injured moredhel and half-dragged him out the door. James asked, ‘Highness, how can they have a rift?’

‘The Tsurani know how to make them, as does Pug. And we have suspected the Pantathians knew of their making,’ Arutha said. ‘Whatever the source, if Delekhan can fashion one, that moredhel chieftain is right. It is then but a short step from Sar-Sargoth to the Dimwood and I am in the wrong place.’

‘What should we do?’ asked James. He was still tired, but had spent a restful night after drinking a special herb tea made for him by Arutha’s healer.

Arutha said, ‘I shall have a company of gallopers accompany you, that magician character and Locklear to the Dimwood. Kill the horses if you must, but ride until they drop. I’ll have Father Barner make up restoratives so you don’t kill yourselves as well. I’m sending you first to Highcastle. Tell Baron Baldwin to strip the garrison and march on Sethanon. Then pick up Gardan’s company and get to the Dimwood as fast as you can. I will be following as fast as I can turn this army around and get it moving.

‘But you and your two companions must ride to the Dimwood, even if you have to leave the soldiers behind. Find Captain Philip and tell him to start looking for that rift machine. If it can be destroyed before Delekhan can bring in the bulk of his army, we may still stop him.’

‘He could be there already,’ said James.

‘Which means you can’t start any too soon,’ said Arutha. ‘Get mounted and leave now. You’ve got half a day left.’

James bowed and hurried to find Locklear and Patrus. He knew neither of them would be happy to get these orders. He knew he wasn’t.