‘Shall I take some to Ithgol?’ Pol offered. Zastra shook her head.
‘No sense you or Dalbric being seen too. Hanra, can you please take Ithgol his share?’
Hanra pouted. ‘I ain’t your slave. You take it. He’s your friend, not mine.’
‘It wouldn’t look right. We need our prisoners to believe you are under my command. But you can finish yours first if you’d like.’
‘How generous of you,’ muttered Hanra sarcastically, but once she had eaten, she took Ithgol his share. Zastra waited until she returned before going back to the prisoners.
‘I’m afraid that now you know who I am, we’re going to have to kill you,’ she said brusquely. The woman clamped her jaw shut, but the man began to speak, his words tumbling over themselves in his haste.
‘No, please. Don’t kill us. I can tell you lots more about Finistron. I know the ins and outs of the whole place. I served under your father. A great man. It was a tragedy what happened. I’m on your side.’
The woman gave him a look of disgust. ‘Give it a rest, Dorlin,’ she said hoarsely. ‘You’ve done nothing but sing Thorlberd’s praises all year. Besides, politics ain’t for the likes of us. Just do your job and shut your mouth.’
Ithgol stepped forward.
‘I’ll shut yours, Golmeiran,’ he growled, but Zastra placed a hand across his chest and crouched down on her haunches before the woman. She took out her flask and unstoppered it.
‘What’s your name?’
The woman licked her lips.
‘Shekara,’ she croaked at last. Zastra offered her the flask and allowed her to drink her fill.
‘Well, Shekara, you may have no interest in politics, but you might want to re-consider serving a man who murdered his own brother and enslaved an entire people.’
‘You’re no better than him. They told us about those poor children you killed at Murthen Island.’ Shekara spat out the words. Ithgol leaned down and thrust his face within an inch of Shekara’s.
‘Lies,’ he snarled. ‘We do not kill children.’
‘Leave her be,’ Zastra said quietly. ‘Question the other one. Get as much information as you can.’
Dorlin was happy to talk, but told them little that they did not already know. Zastra feigned interest, but her mind was elsewhere. Her uncle was spreading evil lies about her, it seemed. What did he hope to achieve? It must mean that she had got him worried, but was that a good or bad thing? Something she would need to consider, but for now only Findar mattered.
Night was falling by the time Dorlin finally finished spilling his guts. Zastra ordered Ithgol and Kylen to untie the prisoners and take them out so they could relieve themselves. When they returned, they were both given food and water and then Zastra made a show of ordering Ithgol to retie them and take the first watch. She and Kylen retired to the rear caves for the night. In the morning the prisoners had gone, leaving only their bindings on the floor of the cave.
‘Fine guard you are, Kyrg,’ Kylen remarked with a grin. Ithgol jerked his head towards Hanra. ‘You should have made her stand guard,’ he growled. ‘They will not believe a Kyrg could be so unreliable. Dorlin made enough noise to wake the dead.’
‘Let’s just hope Ixendred takes the bait,’ Zastra said. ‘If he doesn’t, I wouldn’t say much for our chances.’
Chapter Twenty-three
Brutila peered round the square pillar and clenched her jaw in frustration. Move, you stupid flekk. But Lodrak continued to lean his back against the door to the inner tower, laughing with a female guard. He showed no sign of leaving. You’re wasting your time, fool. That woman can do so much better than you, and she knows it. The skinny mindweaver at last started to move, but Brutila’s initial satisfaction changed to alarm when she realised he was heading straight for her. She shrank round the far side of the pillar as he approached. It would be humiliating to be discovered. Lodrak would make a big show of returning her to her cell and locking her in. Fortunately, the skinny mindweaver’s attention was elsewhere.
‘I wish the others were as conscientious as you,’ he was saying fervently. ‘The migaradon was in a foul mood earlier because the nightwatch were too lazy to carry up sufficient food. I will make sure Master at Arms Ixendred knows of it, next time I see him.’
Brutila’s lip curled. You think pretending to be Ixendred’s friend will impress her? Pathetic. She circled round to keep the pillar between herself and Lodrak as he and the woman passed by. As soon as they were out of sight, she made for the door. It was not locked. Inside, a stone staircase spiralled upwards. She followed the stairs all the way to the top, where a doorless frame opened into a large chamber. Iron hinges hung loosely from the doorframe, splinters of wood still attached. A migaradon filled the room, its brown scales glinting dully in the light from a large grille in the ceiling. Two heavy chains were attached to a fetter around its hind leg and secured to iron plates fixed in the wall. The beast eyed her without turning its head, lifting its top lip menacingly to display rows of teeth. Brutila squatted down and fingered the iron fetter. Two chains? You must be a fighter. But I have ridden bigger beasts than you, my girl.
She initiated a mind meld. Anger, fear, hatred. As she opened herself to the emotions of the migaradon, Brutila felt a strange affinity with it. I would be enraged too, sister, if I were captive to a flekk like Lodrak. The migaradon flicked her head back and gave out a low wail. The doleful sound echoed around the chamber. Brutila noted that each chain was held by a separate padlock. That meant two keys to find. Easy, girl. I will return soon to set you free.
Brutila made her way back to her rooms. She had the beginnings of a plan. Ixendred would never allow her to take Findar. The guards and mindweavers at the gates of Finistron served not only to keep people out, but also to keep them in. But a migaradon had no need for gates.
As she skirted round the edge of the courtyard, keeping to the shadows, a small group of soldiers overtook her, marching at double speed. They were heading for Ixendred’s quarters. Two of the soldiers wore crumpled uniforms, caked in mud. Ixendred won’t be impressed by such slovenliness. Curious, Brutila risked sending a mind probe. She had to bite her lip to stop herself exclaiming out loud. The man called Dorlin almost shouted his thoughts. Zastra is close, and seeking her brother. Well, well. There may be more pleasures to be had in Sendor after all. Brutila followed, slipping in after the soldiers as they entered Ixendred’s quarters. Ixendred looked up. He was with Lodrak and Leodra’s nephew.
‘The deserters return,’ he said with a frown.
One of the dishevelled soldiers stepped forward with a sharp bow.
‘Please, Master at Arms, we are no deserters. My name is Shekara. Dorlin and me were taken prisoner, but we escaped and came straight here to warn you.’
‘Taken prisoner? By whom?’
‘They called their leader Zastra. She wanted to know about the boy. Where we were keeping him. They were waiting for reinforcements which have been delayed.’
Findar jumped out of his chair.
‘My sister is here?’
Ixendred pulled a map from a sheaf of papers on his desk.
‘Show me.’
Shekara picked out a place on the map. ‘There. About three leagues to the north. We could be back there by nightfall.’
‘How many of them were there?’
‘I couldn’t say for sure. We only saw a few, but there could be more in the caves behind.’
‘Zastra would hardly attack without some force,’ Ixendred mused. ‘Her raid on Murthen Island proved that she is no fool. You are certain it was her?’
‘That’s what they called her, but I’ve never met Thorlberd’s niece. It could have been an imposter.’
Brutila coughed assertively. Everyone spun round to look at her. She caught a flash of annoyance before Ixendred composed his features.
‘I can confirm the girl you met was indeed Zastra,’ she said. Shekara scowled at her.
‘Did you look inside my head witho
ut permission?’
‘No need.’ Brutila patted Dorlin’s cheek. The man flinched beneath her touch. ‘Dorlin here is broadcasting his memories. I recognised Zastra immediately. I’d be happy to lead a raiding party.’ Brutila forced herself not to appear too eager. All these years she had been after Zastra, and now the girl had fallen right into her lap. Ixendred cleared his throat.
‘I am grateful for your offer, Master Brutila, but I will handle this myself. Captain Deni, prepare the Twelfth and Eighteenth Troops. And request Holgar’s Kyrg unit. We will leave immediately.’
Brutila kept her features composed despite the anger that seethed within her. I should have expected this. Ixendred is determined to steal credit for anything important.
‘You won’t hurt her, will you?’ Findar asked softly. Ixendred straightened his jacket.
‘We will avoid bloodshed where we can, Lord Findar, but I must protect my men and women. Lodrak, while we are away, take up the drawbridge and lower the portcullis. No one enters or leaves Finistron until we return.’
From her vantage point above the fort, Zastra watched two troops, a hundred soldiers apiece, and a band of sixty Kyrgs leave through the main gate. They were accompanied by three black-robed mindweavers. There was no sign of Brutila. She must still be inside, but at least there would be fewer soldiers to defend Finistron. Rain began to fall, pattering against the rocks and sending her back into the treeline for cover. A rustle behind her had her scrambling for her crossbow, but she lowered it as Kylen emerged from behind a silver pine.
‘Any sign of Alboraz?’ she asked.
Kylen shook her head. ‘Not yet, but he’ll be here.’
‘Are you sure? Last time we saw him, he didn’t look up to travelling.’
‘The old man is as tough as a migaradon’s hide. I’d worry more about the weather. If this rain doesn’t let up the walls will be too slippery to climb.’
‘We’d better hope for clear skies then,’ Zastra remarked grimly. ‘Ixendred will not be fooled for long. We’ve only one chance at this.’
Chapter Twenty-four
In the middle of the afternoon the rain stopped and weak rays of sunshine broke through the blanket of grey clouds. Zastra willed the clouds to clear. There was a slight breeze, which she hoped would help the walls dry out. After Ixendred had left with his raiding party, the drawbridge had been pulled up and the portcullis lowered. Thorlberd’s master at arms was taking no chances. The migaradon made a brief sortie and returned to the top of the central keep. Her brother was somewhere inside. A low whistle came from her right flank. It was the pre-arranged signal. She returned the whistle and Ithgol and Polina crept forward to join her.
‘Did it work?’
Polina nodded. ‘We followed Ixendred and his troops to the bottom of the escarpment, where they held their position. I suspect he wants to see the lay of the land before launching an attack. Hanra and Dalbric have done a good job with the fires. It looks as if there’s an army inside, cooking supper. Even if Ixendred attacks before nightfall, the smoke should confuse them for a while. Any sign of the Sendorans?’
Zastra squinted towards the east. ‘Not yet, but Kylen assures me they’ll be here.’
They waited. The clouds had completely cleared away by the time the sun sank below the horizon. At least there had been no more rain. However, a clear sky gave them a different problem. Both moons were rising, bathing the fort and the surrounding land in a silvery glow. She eased herself to her feet.
‘Time to go.’
They crept around the edge of the forest towards the north side of the fortress. Four jula lamps floated along the rear wall, separating and joining as the soldiers carrying them marched back and forth. Ixendred had doubled the guard. A yellowish glow from within the fortress illuminated the sky above it. A dark cloud crawled in front of Horval and Kalin and a matching shadow slid across the open ground. This was their chance. Where are the Sendorans? As if answering her thoughts, a hand grabbed her shoulder. Zastra jumped half out of her skin.
‘They’re here. Let’s go.’ It was Kylen.
‘You scared me half to death!’
‘Come on. Work to do.’
Zastra felt rather than saw bodies steal past her. She followed at a jog, staying within the moonshadow and trusting the ground not to trip her up. The four lights patrolling the north wall flickered and died with barely a noise. Zastra slowed as her feet crunched on the gravel track. The perimeter ditch would be just in front of her. She crouched down and crept forward, sweeping the ground with her hand until she felt the lip. The moons emerged from behind the cloud and a mass of stealthy figures were caught in the silvery light as they scampered across the open ground towards her. If anyone on the fortress walls happened to look down, they were done for. Zastra waited for the warning cry, but none came. Some of the shadows carried planks, which were lowered into the trench and set at an angle to form a downward ramp. Kylen shifted a bundle onto one shoulder, shuffled down the ramp to the base of the wall and began to climb. A few paces further along, another figure also started the ascent. They were quickly followed by two more. Zastra watched in awe as they swarmed up the smooth stone surface. Another cloud drifted across the moons and all went dark again. She re-adjusted her crossbow, ensuring it was firmly strapped against her back, then felt for the nearest ramp and slid down until she was at the base of the trench, stopping herself by resting her palms against the cold stone wall of the fortress.
There was a stifled shout, following by a slithering noise and something rough scraped against Zastra’s cheek. She reached out and felt the edge of a rope ladder. It was pulled taut as someone began to climb. She followed. They had to be quick; Kylen and the others would be overwhelmed if they didn’t get up to support them. A horn split the silence, followed by loud cries. Boots thudded on wood. The alarm had been raised.
The ladder quivered as another person added their weight to the bottom and it began to flex and sway under the weight of all the people climbing it. Zastra drew level with a narrow window near the top of the wall. Someone leaned out and pointed a loaded crossbow at the massed Sendorans below. Zastra reached across with one hand and yanked the weapon away. She had only paused for a moment, but the person beneath bumped their head against her feet and cursed. She clenched the wire of the bow between her teeth and hauled herself over the top of the wall. Kylen and Borez, swords dancing in the glow of braziers, held back a sea of Golmeirans from the wide ledge behind the battlements, clearing just enough room for Zastra and the others to clamber over the wall unmolested. Zastra took the stolen bow from between her teeth, aimed between Kylen and Borez and let off three quick shots. A gap appeared momentarily in the attackers, but was instantly filled. Kylen and Borez were pressed backwards. This was the most critical part of the whole attack. Their small advance party would be vastly outnumbered until the rest of the Sendorans could join them. A pair of serrated scythal blades flashed beside her as Ithgol carved his way forward. Zastra pulled out her own sword and launched herself at the enemy. More Sendorans clambered over the walls to join the fight.
‘We have to open the gate!’ Kylen cried. Alboraz was waiting by the drawbridge with the bulk of their forces. But instead of gaining ground, they were being forced back. A tattooed Kyrginite warrior broke between Kylen and Ithgol and swung a blade at Zastra’s head. She weaved aside, jabbing forward with her sword. The Kyrg staggered backwards, tripped over the edge of the stone platform and plunged into the courtyard below. Another Kyrg burst towards her and more followed behind. There are too many. We’ll never make it.
Brutila dragged Findar up the spiral staircase. The lad squirmed, trying to free himself.
‘Where are you taking me?’
She tightened her grip on his elbow. The metallic shriek of the migaradon bounced off the walls of the stairwell and she felt the boy stiffen. As they reached the chamber, a shadow blocked the doorway. It was Lodrak, his eyes wide with confusion.
‘I say, what…?’
Brutila already had her knife in her hand. A sharp jab, and the young mindweaver slumped to the ground. She reached down and extracted two keys from the pouch on his belt. The migaradon was up on her haunches and attempted to unfurl her wings. The room wasn’t large enough and it screeched in fear and anger. Brutila unlocked one of the two padlocks and released the chain. Before she could attempt the other, the panicked migaradon ripped the metal plate clean out of the wall. Brutila climbed onto its back, dragging Findar with her as the beast launched itself into the air. Fortunately, the iron grille in the ceiling had been drawn back, otherwise they would have been crushed against it. The dangling chain and floorplate clanged against the lip of the skylight as they passed through.
‘Let me go!’ Findar thumped her arm. ‘Why are you doing this? You said you were my friend!’
‘I lied!’ Brutila gloated as she merged minds with the migaradon.
‘My sister will come for me. Then you’ll be sorry.’
Brutila’s mind was full of the angry exhilaration of the migaradon and she laughed in exultation.
‘Look!’ She gestured toward the battlements. The attackers, vastly outnumbered, were being pressed back. ‘She came for you, but she will die for it. My only regret is I won’t kill her myself.’
Moreen tugged Zastra’s arm.
‘The migaradon!’ she cried, stepping forward to take Zastra’s place between Kylen and Ithgol. The winged creature beat its way up from the central keep, the scales on its belly glowing bronze in the light of the braziers. Zastra sheathed her sword and reached behind her back for her own crossbow. It was preloaded with scale-tipped bolts. She knelt, pulled the lever to position the first bolt in the firing chamber and nestled the butt of the bow into her shoulder. She aimed just below the migaradon’s neck and squeezed the trigger. Even as she felt the kickback she was pulling the lever to set the second bolt. She fired again, aiming for the second of the three hearts. The migaradon screamed with pain as each bolt landed. Blood pumped from the wounds. Zastra was about to fire her final bolt when the migaradon banked toward her. On its back rode two figures. One had cropped grey hair and a white scar forming a strange half grin across her face. Behind her, a fair-haired boy clung on. Zastra’s stomach went cold.
Tales of Golmeira- The Complete Box Set Page 58