A distant swelling lamentation rose songlike under the storm, a terrible harmony of tiny screams and wails that beat over the palace gates, into the garden and hallways, frightened, fluttering voices without form or hope. The people of Parendur cried out to their gods and each other, and their shouts became a chorus of despair.
"It's the end of the world," Riloosa whispered, huddling down beside them. He stared outward, his face rapt with awe, cradling his arm and shivering visibly.
A sudden wind shift blew rain over the terrace, drenching them.
"Innocent!"
Taelyn and six of his soldiers rushed into the room. Riloosa shrieked, and his eyes snapped wide with pain as two of them grabbed him and hauled him roughly to his feet.
"I need you!" Taelyn shouted over a thunderclap as two more men pulled Innowen up and settled him piggy-back style on another soldier's back. "The city's under attack, and we've got to get out of here. Minarik and Kyrin and our troops are ready to break out, but you've got to do something first!"
"Dyan!" Innowen shouted back as the storm attempted to drown his voice. "What about Dyan!"
"She's safe!" Taelyn answered. Then, to his soldiers, "Get him to the gate! Fast! We've got to know! Move!"
But Innowen was not ready to go. "What do you mean, we're being attacked? By whom?"
Taelyn didn't wait to answer, and Innowen barely had time to glance at Razkili.
They ran through the palace corridors, down unfamiliar hallways, down a flight of stairs and into a small courtyard where horses were waiting. "I can't ride!" Innowen called, blinking into the rain that slashed at his eyes. He wiped uselessly at his face. "Put me up with Rascal!"
Lightning made a deadly webwork in the sky as they raced down the hill from the palace and into Parendur's mud-slick streets. Rubble strewed their course, the wreckage of stone and wattle homes that the storm had collapsed. People packed the roads, clutching children and small bundles of belongings. The tallest buildings creaked and swayed treacherously as the sharp wind lashed the city.
The world flashed white and purple as yet another bolt shot earthward. Stone exploded, and the air rumbled with the force.
"The wall!" Innowen shouted in Razkili's ear. "That hit the wall!"
But the wall was clearly their destination. Jaelyn's men pushed the crowds out of their path, using the butts of their spears and the size of their horses to make a way. The citizens were more afraid of the storm than of the soldiers and only responded with curses until they looked up and recognized Taelyn, their hero, who had saved the city only days before. He took the lead, riding without speaking a word, and his mere presence parted the obstructing throng.
They arrived at a guard station at the base of the wall and dismounted. Razkili carried Innowen in his arms and hurried up a narrow staircase as Taelyn beckoned them. At the top of the wall, Taelyn pointed outward. "Down there," he said, shouting over the wind, "is that your man?"
Innowen wiped water from his eyes as he bit his lip. A vast army stretched outward over the plain before the main gate. Naked flesh glistened in the rain, bronze spearpoints and swords gleamed with lightning-flash. With every strike of lightning, a great cry went up from the army. They raised their weapons and sent their voices soaring with the thunder as Parendur trembled.
At their head, on a huge black horse, sat Vashni.
"That's him," he answered grimly, "the Witch's man!"
Razkili spoke up. "Watch what they're doing," he said. "Every time the lightning strikes, they point their weapons at the gate and give a shout."
Rascal was right, and Innowen clenched a fist. Suddenly, he remembered his first meeting with the Witch of Shanalane. She'd used a storm to cloak her passage through Minarik's lands, used wind and lightning to smash his house. She'd boasted of her control over it, and of a power so great that, though the storm swept the forest nearly flat, not a drop of rain touched her.
"They're trying to bring down the gate!" Innowen exclaimed. His heart beat faster with the realization that the Witch of Shanalane was near. "This is her doing! She can call the storms!"
"Then where is she?" Taelyn called. The rain had beaten his hair into thick ropes, and the wind whipped them so they writhed like serpents from his head.
"I don't know," Innowen answered shrilly. "I don't see her. She could still be in the mountains, or maybe further out on the plain! But she's here. I
feel
her!"
"If she breaches the gate, there aren't enough troops in the city to resist that army," Razkili pointed out.
"I know," Taelyn snapped angrily. "Blast Kyrin for a fool. Too busy sending our armies after the little rebels. Never considered a big one might come knocking on the gods-damned door!" He headed back down the staircase where his men waited. "Should tie his ass to a post and leave him for the Witch," he said over his shoulder, "but Minarik would never let me have such fun. Let's get to the garrison fast."
Rascal carried him down the stairs. As soon as they were mounted again, they raced through the city. The air crackled and sizzled with electric fire, and the streets shook with explosions. Flames shot up, defying the rain, casting a weird flickering glow against the low clouds.
The garrison was a walled compound within Parendur. Seeing them approach, a pair of guards pushed wide one of the great doors, and they rode inside. Minarik stood in the center of the yard, drenched, yet somehow proud and powerful in his sodden cloak. "How bad?" he said to Taelyn as his commander dismounted.
"Bad," Taelyn answered curtly. "Innocent says it's the Witch. He's sure it's her man, Vashni, at their head. Bulk of the force is at the main gate, but all gates are covered. We want out, then we fight out."
Innowen's jaw dropped, then snapped shut. "You haven't got enough men! You can't engage them!"
Minarik ignored him. "Get everyone who can ride mounted," he instructed Taelyn. "Leave the wounded behind. We won't be able to take care of them. Do it quick, and assemble them here."
"Veydon comes," Razkili said.
Minarik gave him a cold look. "He's wounded. He stays."
"He comes." Razkili handed the reins to Innowen, made sure he was balanced, then slid off the horse's rump to the ground. Innowen quietly tangled his hands in the mane for a more secure grip as the Osiri strode up to Minarik. The two locked gazes for just a moment, a strange test of wills that Razkili seemed to win with ease. He turned to Taelyn. "Where is he?"
Taelyn pointed to a long, low building a short distance across the yard.
"Arrange another horse," he said. "I'll look after Innowen and Veydon both."
Minarik scowled with displeasure. "Just do it fast," he told his former slave. "And have that compound gate sealed and barred now."
"What do we do about him?" Taelyn asked, nodding toward Riloosa, who sat sullenly upon his horse between two soldiers.
"Let Kyrin decide." He spun about, nearly slipping in the mud, but recovered with his dignity intact and marched into a building directly behind him while Taelyn hurried to carry out his orders.
Innowen waited miserably in the rain, perched precariously upon the horse, afraid of falling. If only he'd had time to grab a cloak. His kilt was soaked. The cold rain rilled through his hair, down his chest and back and arms and legs. It filled his ears and stung his eyes. Throughout the compound, soldiers began to scurry, half armored, leading mounts. The great doors slammed closed, causing Innowen to twist around in time to see a huge wooden beam slide into place, guided by four large men.
That caused him to wonder. How are we supposed to get out?
A handful of soldiers pulled their mounts up beside Innowen, greeting him with simple nods. He recognized them as Taelyn's men and returned their greeting in kind. Others began to join them, their expressions grim. No one spoke, as if the storm had drenched their spirits as well as their bodies.
A bright flash caused him to shield his eyes. When he took his hand away, Razkili emerged into the yard with Veydon. The young soldier's back and chest were swathed in white cloth, and he walked with one arm around Razkili, but he managed a grin when he saw Innowen. "Nice day," he said, then added, "for a fish."
A soldier arrived with four horses. Razkili helped Veydon to mount one of them, then climbed up carefully behind Innowen again. His arms slid around Innowen's waist as he took back the reins, and he gave a hug. "All right?" he whispered in Innowen's ear, and Innowen nodded. To Veydon, he asked the same question.
"Wet, cold, wounded, and facing a host of thousands." A broad smile cloaked the younger man's discomfort. "It's my kind of party."
"Sure," Razkili said sardonically. "The gods are smiling on us all."
"You mean laughing at us," Innowen corrected.
Taelyn rode up beside them. "I scavenged these," he said, passing swords to Razkili and Veydon.
"What about me?" Innowen said.
Taelyn stared for a moment, then pursed his lips. "I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd be able to..."
"Only my legs are crippled, sir," he snapped in annoyance. "My arms are just fine, and I can use that as well as you." He twisted around to the nearest soldier. The man carried a lance, so Innowen pointed to the blade at his hip. "Give me that," he demanded.
The soldier frowned and looked to his commander.
Lightning snaked through the sky with a hiss and crackle. A blast of thunder followed. Innowen clapped hands to his ears as a dwelling at the farthest end of the compound collapsed unexpectedly. A sharp scream issued from the ruins, and soldiers hurried to drag the occupant free. It was only a corpse they found, though.
"You can't take another man's sword, Innocent," Taelyn chided. "His life might depend on his weapon. I'll give you mine."
Innowen clenched his teeth and sighed. "No, damn it," he said sharply. "But next time, don't think so little of me. I'm capable of more than you know."
Minarik emerged into the yard with Kyrin and Dyan. Thick cloaks protected them from the rain, and they hurried to claim their horses. Ispor's king assisted his daughter to mount, and she steered her beast to Innowen's side.
"Hello," she said shyly.
"Get away from him!" Kyrin's face purpled with rage as he grabbed Dyan's reins and pulled her horse away. "He's
abathakati!
" He shot a hateful look at Innowen as he spat out the ancient word.
Innowen recoiled with shock and surprise. "That's not true," he insisted.
But Kyrin hissed again, shaking his fist.
"Abathakati!"
Minarik steered his horse between his adopted son and his king. "What about Riloosa?" he said. "What shall we do with him?"
Kyrin glared at his Syraean advisor. ''He comes with us. I have plans for my sweet, treacherous Riloosa." He looked back at Minarik. "Now open the wall, Uncle, and get us out of this damned rain." He wiped water from his face and climbed upon his horse. "At this rate we'll drown before the invaders break into the city."
"Open the wall?" Razkili whispered in Innowen's ear. Innowen could only shrug. He had no idea what Kyrin meant. His thoughts still dwelled on the king's accusation. A
bathakati.
He repeated the word silently over and over. It couldn't be true, it couldn't.
The remnants of Taelyn's Second Army, complemented by Kyrin's First, which made up the city's garrison force, had crowded into the compound's yard. Overhead, a violent display of electric fire seared through the clouds, and the ground gave a strange, ominous shudder. The horses began to whinny and stamp, and soldiers shot uncertain looks at one another as they gripped their weapons. A frightened muttering rose in the ranks.
Minarik rode between two buildings to a section of the wall |where four soldiers waited. They were huge men, Innowen saw, raw with muscle and rippling strength, and their young faces were grim. Minarik spoke to them only briefly, then they lined up shoulder to shoulder and faced the wall. They set their hands upon the rough stone. The muscles in their backs bulged suddenly with strain and effort. Four pairs of sandaled feet slipped, dug, and somehow found purchase in the mud.
There came a sound of grinding stone. A crack appeared in the wall. The four redoubled their efforts, and as one they gave a loud groan and pushed. It was no crack at all, but a doorway. The wall was hollow! Three more soldiers jumped down from their mounts and ran to lend their hands to the task. More tried to follow, but Minarik stopped them. A section of the wall gave inward like a single block, yielding an opening high enough for a mounted man and wide enough to admit a wagon or supply cart.
"Can there be room in there for all of us?" Razkili wondered aloud as Minarik and two of his strongmen disappeared inside.
Veydon sat stiffly on his horse, trying to hide his pain. "I'll bet the entire city wall is hollow. We could hide in there for a long time, then sweep out and catch the invaders unaware while they sleep in our beds."
Within the dark opening, a light flared, then another. Minarik emerged bearing a torch in one hand. He beckoned with the other, and Kyrin rode forward, still gripping the reins of his daughter's horse, leading her close beside him. Taelyn, conferring in private with two of his officers, waved everyone else ahead.