Mask of Swords (24 page)

“Ah,” said the Prophetess, and she tugged the blade free. Mazael let out a grunt and looked at the blade. His blood coated the maethweisyr, but as he watched, the blood seemed to sink into the metal, during the silver blade a dull crimson. It was as if his blood had infused the dagger’s very metal.

“You,” croaked Mazael, his voice a rasp, “are a fool. You are…playing with dangerous…dangerous things.”

“I am quite aware of that, thank you,” said the Prophetess. The wound began to burn and tingle as his Demonsouled blood healed it. It hadn’t killed him, and his Demonsouled nature would repair it, though the process would leave him exhausted. “But fear not, Mazael Cravenlock. Your blood shall serve the goddess. As shall your heart and mind and soul. I would prefer that you had given them willingly…but more coercive means are at hand.”

She placed her left hand upon his chest, next to the wound, and something black and furred appeared on her fingers. At first Mazael thought a rat had climbed down her arm, but then he felt the tiny points of pressure.

A heart spider.

“The process rather scrambled poor Earnachar’s wits,” said the Prophetess. “I hope you shall be stronger.”

The spider crawled forward, and then plunged into the wound. Pain exploded through him, and he strained against the chains, hoping the rage would give him the strength to break free. 

The Prophetess watched him, a small smile on her face.

Mazael felt the spider’s legs curl around his heart, and then everything went black.

Chapter 13: Surrender

Sigaldra stood upon the wall, gazing to the north.

“Another group,” said Talchar One-Eye, pointing. 

It was hard to see in the gathering gloom, but even with one eye, Talchar’s vision was keen. Bands of scattered horsemen galloped south, making their way to the walls of the village. Sigaldra could not tell if the horsemen were Mazael’s men, Adalar’s, or Tervingi horsethains. She had watched the battle at the edge of the horizon as Mazael drove off the Skuldari spiders, and then the horsemen had ridden away to the north. Were they pursuing the Skuldari, or was something else afoot?

She wished Mazael had sent word. 

“That is a rout,” said Talchar in a quiet voice. “Seen it before. The horsemen ran into something they couldn’t defeat, so they’re fleeing back here.”

“A rout?” said Sigaldra, shocked. Mazael and Adalar had ridden out with nearly a hundred and fifty horsemen. It would take a powerful force to overwhelm that many knights and horsemen. Had the Skuldari brought that many of their giant spiders? Or had Earnachar turned against Mazael at last? It was disturbing thought. A very disturbing thought. If Earnachar had been strong enough to defeat Mazael, he would have no trouble whatsoever destroying the final remnants of the Jutai nation. 

“The first group is nearing the gate,” said Vorgaric. 

“My lady Sigaldra,” said Timothy, his black coat stirring in the wind. She felt uneasy around the wizard, but if Earnachar attacked she would not refuse the aid of his spells. “Those are some of Lord Mazael’s armsmen.” 

“Should we admit them?” said Talchar. “They might have been infested by those heart spiders.” 

“I have a spell,” said Timothy. “I can detect the spiders within them, if they have been infested.”

“If they are infected,” said Vorgaric, “do we kill them?”

“We may have no choice,” said Sigaldra.

“No!” said Timothy. “Forgive me, but I have prepared a potion that will expel the spiders from their bodies. If they were forced to take the spiders against their will, then they are innocent men, and Lord Mazael has no wish to kill innocent men.” 

“Can you cast your sensing spell from a distance?” said Sigaldra. 

“I believe so,” said Timothy. “If they wait below the gate, it should be adequate.”

“Fine,” said Sigaldra. “Have them wait below the gate. If they’re free of the spiders, admit them.” If Earnachar was coming, Sigaldra would need every fighting man she could find. “If they’re not, admit them anyway, and give them the potion in the guise of wine.”

“It shall be as you command, my lady,” said Timothy.

Sigaldra glanced towards the gray tower of the keep. Perhaps she should rouse Liane and ask for her help. Her visions were always true, and they had been useful in the past. Sigaldra dismissed the idea. Liane still needed to rest from her last episode. 

But if the situation became dire enough…

The horsemen reigned up before the gate and asked admittance. Timothy cast his spell and claimed that the men were free of the spiders. Sigaldra nodded, and Vorgaric admitted them. The men reined up, and Sigaldra spoke to them. She heard differing accounts of what had happened. The Skuldari raiders had been driven off. Mazael and Earnachar had been parleying, and then a score of soliphages had appeared from nowhere. Mazael and Earnachar both had vanished, and the knights had tried to fight off the soliphages. They had killed one or two, but the soliphages were too strong and wielded too much dark magic. Finally Lord Adalar had ordered a retreat, and the armsmen and knights had fled back to Greatheart Keep. 

As the sun vanished to the west and the sky darkened, more groups of knights and armsmen arrived. Timothy checked them one by one. Arnulf ordered his spearthains and swordthains to take up positions alongside the Jutai thains and militiamen, and Sigaldra permitted it. From the tales the returning men told, Sigaldra suspected that they would come under attack soon enough. 

Full night had fallen by the time two more horsemen came to the gate, their mounts breathing hard. Adalar sat in his saddle, his shield hacked to splinters, the war hammer in his right hand covered in blood and black slime. Sir Wesson rode at his side, his armor scratched and battered, his surcoat torn half to shreds. 

No other riders came with him. 

“Are they safe?” said Sigaldra. Timothy nodded, and Sigaldra descended from the rampart to the gate. Timothy followed her, as did Talchar, Vorgaric, and Arnulf. 

“My lady Sigaldra,” said Adalar, sketching a bow from his saddle. “I fear we may have to impose upon your hospitality for a little while longer.”

“What happened?” said Sigaldra. “One of your men says one thing, and a second another. Where is Lord Mazael?”

“We rode into a trap,” said Adalar with a scowl. He wiped off some of the slime from his hammer, cursed, and hung the weapon from his saddle. “Earnachar planned it from the beginning, the treacherous swine. Rigoric was leading a group of spider riders, and we drove them off. Just as the battle swung our way, Earnachar arrived with his horsethains and claimed that the Prophetess had tried to recruit him, but he had planned to betray her to Mazael all along.” 

“Lies,” said Sigaldra.

“Yes,” said Adalar. “There was this…light. A spell of some sort. That is more your field of expertise than mine, Timothy. Once the light cleared, a score of soliphages appeared out of thin air and attacked.”

Arnulf grunted. “One soliphage is a dangerous enough foe. A score would be…”

“A slaughter,” said Adalar. “I killed one of them, and Wesson took another. But Earnachar’s horsethains joined the battle on the soliphages’ side, and we were overwhelmed. I called for the retreat and commanded the men to withdraw here. How many made it?”

Sigaldra looked at Vorgaric.

“Perhaps a hundred and ten,” said the blacksmith.

“Damnation,” spat Adalar. 

“What of Lord Mazael?” said Sigaldra. “And Lady Romaria?”

“I don’t know,” said Adalar. “Both Lord Mazael and Earnachar disappeared when the soliphages appeared. After…there was too much chaos. I couldn’t see what happened. The last I saw of Lady Romaria, she was trying to cut her way to Mazael.”

“Are they dead?” said Arnulf.

“They might be,” said Adalar. “Or captive. I don’t know.” He struck his leg with his fist. “I should have stayed. I…”

“If you had stayed you would be dead,” said Wesson. “There were too many of them, and more Skuldari were coming from the north.”

“What?” said Sigaldra. “More Skuldari?”

“Footmen and spider cavalry both,” said Wesson. “I could not count how many. At least a thousand. Maybe a little less, probably more.”

“Gods and ancestors,” said Sigaldra. A thousand Skuldari combined with Earnachar’s men would make an army.

An army that could take Greatheart Keep and kill the Jutai. 

They could not run. The fighting men and the younger women might be able to escape, but the old and the maimed and the children would not be able to flee. She could send messages to the nearby knights and headmen asking for aid, but if Mazael was dead, the lords and headmen would do as they wished. Lady Molly was Mazael’s heir, but it would take time to establish her authority over the lords. 

By that time, Greatheart Keep would be ashes. 

“We have no choice,” said Sigaldra. “We must prepare for a siege.” She looked at Adalar. “Will you fight alongside us, my lord?”

“Of course,” said Adalar. 

“You have no bond or obligation to us,” said Sigaldra. 

“Nevertheless, I will stay and fight,” said Adalar. “The Skuldari attacked my men as well, and I would see that repaid.”

Wesson snorted. “And if we were to ride out into the dark, likely we’ll be eaten by spiders.” 

“And you, headman,” said Sigaldra to Arnulf. “Will you fight to defend Greatheart Keep?”

Arnulf scowled. “Earnachar has betrayed us and attacked our hrould. Perhaps even murdered him.” He spat in the dust. “He will be called to account for that.” 

“I would advise,” said Timothy, “that we send out riders at once. To Castyard and Morsen and the other nearby villages. They need to be warned of the Skuldari and Earnachar’s rebellion, and we can ask them in the name of Lord Mazael to aid us.”

“That will do us little good if Lord Mazael is dead,” said Sigaldra.

“He may not be dead,” said Adalar, and there was a hard edge to his voice. He was loyal to Mazael, in the same way that a young thain was loyal to the first swordthain who had taught him to hold a blade. 

“No,” said Timothy, “but the other headmen and lords do not know that yet. They may come. And Mazael may not yet be dead.” He looked at Sigaldra. “With your permission, I will ask for volunteers among Lord Mazael’s armsmen. Five, I think, should reach the nearest villages.”

“Go quickly,” said Sigaldra. 

“It shall be done, my lady,” said Timothy with a bow, and he hastened away. 

“Then the rest of us must prepare for a siege,” said Sigaldra.

Adalar frowned. “Have you been in a siege before, my lady?”

She did not bother to answer. “We will have your men and Mazael’s rest first. They have fought the most recently. My militia and my thains will quarter near the gate, and we shall keep Arnulf and his thains in the square, ready to act as a reserve in case the enemy gains the walls.” She rubbed at her jaw. “We should keep Timothy in reserve as well, for the moment when his powers are needed the most. The women and children among my folk are organized into groups to carry supplies and arrows.” She shook her head. “Some of them will have to keep watch for the valgasts as well. I doubt they can climb over the wall, but they may try to tunnel into the village.” 

Adalar was silent for a moment, then he offered a deeper bow from his saddle. “I see you have endured a siege before, my lady.”

“Several, Lord Adalar,” said Sigaldra. “The towns of the Jutai came under siege from the Malrag hordes many times.” She lifted her chin. “Yet the Jutai endured. If we faced the full wrath of the Malrag balekhans and shamans and survived to come to the Grim Marches, we can withstand the Skuldari rabble and Earnachar’s vermin!”

She let her voice rise for the final words, and the Jutai thains and bondsmen near her nodded, and even some of Arnulf’s Tervingi. They had all been through too much to cheer. Yet they all knew her, and she knew them. They would not yield.

She would save them, if she could. Perhaps the Jutai were doomed no matter what she did, and perhaps Earnachar would prevail. But by the ancestors, if the Jutai were doomed then she would make Earnachar pay for every drop of Jutai blood he spilled. 

“Come,” said Sigaldra. “There is much work to be done.”

###

Adalar walked at Sigaldra’s side as she strode from one end of Greatheart Keep to the other.

They labored through the night.

Adalar found himself amazed by how easily Sigaldra took command of the defense. Of course, she was the holdmistress of Greatheart Keep and the Jutai were her people. Under the laws of the Grim Marches she was the lady of the fief, and its defense was her duty. Yet Arnulf and Adalar and Wesson all had considerable experience in battle, and he had no doubt that Talchar One-Eye and Vorgaric and the other leading men of the Jutai had seen countless fights. 

Yet Sigaldra took command of them all, and they obeyed her without question. 

It certainly helped that her commands were sensible, and that she had made prudent precautions. The woman had hoarded supplies like a miser preparing for a years-long famine. The elderly and the children carried bundles of arrows and bandages and buckets of water, and blankets and cots were assembled in the church to prepare for the inevitable arrival of the wounded. 

Sigaldra strode among the Jutai thains and bondsmen. She knew the names of every last one of them, and spoke encouraging words. Adalar listened as she reminded the Jutai of how they had withstood the Malrags, how they had made the long exodus from the middle lands to the Grim Marches, how they had fought in the great battles at Swordgrim and the Northwater and at Knightcastle. Her words seemed to cheer them. 

Near dawn Sigaldra turned a corner onto a deserted street and stopped for a moment, leaning one hand upon the wall.

“Are you well, my lady?” said Adalar. 

“I am fine,” said Sigaldra. She let out a bitter laugh. “Though that is not really true, is it? I am just…a little light-headed, that’s all.” She looked around.

“What is it?” said Adalar. “Foes. Valgasts?” 

“No,” said Sigaldra. She stepped to the door of the small house, pushed it open, and walked inside. Within Adalar saw a plank table before the hearth, dried herbs and vegetables hanging from the rafters. Sigaldra walked to the table and all but fell upon the bench, bracing one arm on the table.