"That's the kind of test that could take months," Durnik pointed out. "But, if instead of throwing rocks at the outside of the wall, you lobbed them all the way over to hit the inside of the wall on the far side, you'd stand a pretty fair chance of toppling them outward."
Mandorallen frowned, mulling it over in his mind.
"He could be right, Mandorallen," Barak said. "City walls are usually buttressed from the inside. They're built to keep people out, not in. If you bang rocks against the inside of the walls, you won't have the strength of the buttresses to contend with. Not only that -if the walls fall outward, they'll provide us with natural ramps in the city. That way we won't need scaling ladders."
Yarblek sauntered over to join the discussion, his fur cap at a jaunty angle. After Durnik had explained his idea, the rangy-looking Nadrak's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "He's got a point, Arend," he said to Mandorallen. "And after you've pounded the walls from the inside for a while, we can throw a few grappling hooks over the tops of them. If the walls have already been weakened, we should be able to pull them down."
"I must admit the feasibility of these most unorthodox approaches to the art of the siege," Mandorallen said. "Though they both do fly in the face of long-established tradition, they show promise of shortening the tedious procedure of reducing the walls." He looked curiously at Yarblek. "I had not previously considered this notion of using grappling hooks so." he admitted.
Yarblek laughed coarsely. "That's probably because you're not a Nadrak. We're an impatient people, so we don't build very good walls. I've pulled down some pretty stout-looking houses in my time -for one reason or another."
"I think, though, that we don't want to yank down the walls too soon," Barak cautioned. "The people inside out-number us just now, and we don't want to give them any reason to come swarming out of that place -and if you pull a man's walls down, it usually makes him very grouchy." The siege of Rheon continued for two more days before Javelin returned astride an exhausted horse. "Haldar's put his own people in most of the positions of authority in the army," he reported, once they had all gathered in the large, dun-colored tent that served as the headquarters of the besieging army. "They're all going around making speeches about Belgarion taking Queen Porenn prisoner. They've about halfway persuaded the troops that they're coming to her rescue."
"Was there any sign of Brendig and the Sendars yet?" Garion asked him.
"I didn't see them personally, but Haldar has his troops moving at a forced march, and he's got a lot of scouts out behind him. I think he believes that Brendig's right on his heels. On the way back, I ran into Lady Polgara and the sorcerer Beldin. They seem to be planning something, but I didn't have time to get any details." He slumped in his chair with a look of exhaustion on his face.
"You're tired, Khendon," Queen Porenn said. "Why don't you get a few hours' sleep, and we'll gather here again this evening."
"I'm all right, your Majesty." he said quickly.
"Go to bed, Javelin," she said firmly. "Your contributions to our discussions won't be very coherent if you keep falling asleep in your chair."
"You might as well do as she says, Javelin," Silk advised. "She's going to mother you whether you like it or not."
"That will do, Silk," Porenn said.
"But you will, Auntie. You're known far and wide as the little mother of Drasnia."
"I said, that will do."
Yes, mother."
"I think you're walking on very thin ice, Silk," Yarblek said.
"I always walk on thin ice. It gives my life a certain zest."
The gloomy days were slowly settling into an even gloomier evening as Garion and his friends gathered once more in the large tent near the center of the encampment. Yarblek had brought a number of rolled-up rugs with him and several iron braziers, and these contributions to their headquarters added certain garish, even barbaric, touches to the interior of the tent.
"Where's Silk?" Garion asked, looking around as they all seated themselves around the glowing braziers.
"I think he's out snooping," Barak replied.
Garion made a face. "I wish that just once he'd be where he's supposed to be."
Javelin looked much more alert after his few hours' sleep.
His expression, however, was grave. "We're starting to run out of time," he told them. "We've got three armies converging on this place. Lord Hettar is coming up from the south, and General Brendig is coming in from the west. Unfortunately, the Drasnian pikemen are very likely to get here first."
"Unless Pol and Beldin can slow them down," Durnik added.
"I have every confidence in Lady Polgara and Master Beldin," Javelin said, "but I think we should decide what we're going to do in the event that they aren't successful. It's always best to prepare for the worst."
"Wisely spoken, my Lord," Mandorallen murmured.
"Now " the Chief of Drasnian Intelligence continued, "we don't truly want to fight the pikemen. First of all, they aren't really our enemies; secondly, a battle with them is going to weaken our forces to the point that a sortie in force from the city could conceivably defeat us."
"What are you leading up to, Javelin?" Porenn asked him.
"I think we're going to have to get into the city."
"We haven't got enough men," Barak said flatly.
"And it will take several more days to reduce the walls," Mandorallen added.
Javelin held up one hand. "If we concentrate the siege engines on one section of wall, we should be able to bring it down within one day." he declared.
"But that just announces which quarter we'll attack from," Lelldorin protested. "The forces in the city will be concentrated there to repel us."
"Not if the rest of the city's on fire," Javelin replied.
"Absolutely out of the question," Garion said flatly. "My son could be in that town, and I'm not going to risk his life setting the whole place on fire."
"I still say that we haven't got enough men to take the city." Barak maintained.
"We don't have to take the whole city, my Lord of Trellheim," Javelin said. "All we need to do is get our men inside. If we take one quarter of the town and fortify it, we can hold off the cult from the inside and Haldar from the outside. Then we simply sit tight and wait for Lord Hettar and General Brendig."
"It's got some possibilities," Yarblek said. "The way things stand right now, we're caught in a nutcracker. If those pikemen get here first, about all your friends are going to be able to do when they arrive is to pick up the pieces."
"No fire," Garion declared adamantly.
"I do fear me that however we proceed, we may not gain entry into the city 'ere the walls are breached," Mandorallen observed.
"The walls aren't really any problem," Durnik said quietly. "No wall is any better than its foundation."
"It is quite impossible, Goodman," Mandorallen told him. "A wall's foundation hath the entire weight resting upon it. No engine in the world can move such a mass."
"I wasn't talking about an engine," Durnik said.
"What have you got in mind, Durnik?" Garion asked him.
"It's not really going to be that hard, Garion," Durnik said. "I did a bit of looking around. The wall's aren't resting on rock. They're resting on packed dirt. All we have to do is soften that dirt a bit. There's plenty of underground water in this region. If we put our heads together, you and I ought to be able to bring it up under one section of wall without anybody inside the city knowing what we've done. Once the ground is soft enough, a few dozen of Yarblek's grappling hooks ought to be enough to topple it."
"Can it be done, Garion?" Lelldorin asked doubtfully.
Garion thought it through. "It's possible," he conceded. "It's very possible."
" And if we did it at night, we could be in position to rush into the city just as soon as the wall falls," Barak said. "We could get inside without losing a single man."
"It's a novel solution," Silk observed from the doorway of the tent. "A little u
nethical, perhaps, but novel all the same."
"Where have you been, you little sneak?" Yarblek demanded.
"In Rheon, actually," Silk replied.
"You were inside the city?" Barak asked in surprise.
Silk shrugged. "Of course. I though it might be appropriate to get a friend of ours out of there before we took the place apart." He stepped aside with a mocking little bow to admit the honey-blonde Margravine Liselle.
"Now that is a splendid-looking young woman," Yarblek breathed in admiration.
Liselle smiled at him, the dimples dancing in her cheeks.
"How did you get inside?" Garion asked the rat-faced little man.
"You really wouldn't want to know, Garion," Silk told him. "There's always a way in or out of a city, if you're really serious about it."
"You two don't smell too good," Yarblek noted.
"It has to do with the route we took," Liselle replied, wrinkling her nose.
"You're looking well," Javelin said conversationally to his niece, "all things considered."
"Thank you, uncle," she replied. Then she turned to Garion. "Are the rumors going about the city true, your Majesty?" she asked. "Has your son been abducted?"
Garion nodded grimly. "It happened just after we took Jarviksholm. That's why we're here."
"But Prince Geran doesn't seem to be in Rheon," she told him.
"Are you sure?" Ce'Nedra demanded.
"I think so, your Majesty. The cultists inside the city are baffled. They seem to have no idea who took your son."
Ulfgar may be keeping it secret," Javelin said. "Only a small group may know."
"Perhaps, but it doesn't look that way. I wasn't able to get close enough to him to make sure, but he has the look of a man whose plans have gone all awry. I don't think he expected this attack on Rheon. His fortifications are not nearly as complete as they might appear from the outside. The north wall in particular is rather flimsy. His reinforcement of the walls seems a desperation move. He was not expecting a siege. If he'd been behind the abduction, he would have been prepared for the attack -unless he thought you could never trace it to him."
"This is most excellent news, my Lady," Mandorallen praised her. "Since we know of the weakness of the north fortifications, we can concentrate our efforts there. If Goodman Durnik's plan proves workable, a weakening of the foundations of the north wall should bring it down most speedily."
"What can't you tell us about Ulfgar?" Barak asked the girl.
"I only saw him briefly at a distance. He spends most of his time inside his house, and only his closest cohorts are allowed near him. He made a speech, though, just before he sent his forces to attack you. He speaks very passionately and he had the crowd absolutely under his control. I can tell you one thing about him, though. He's not an Alorn."
"He's not?" Barak looked dumfounded.
"His face doesn't give away his nationality, but his speech is not that of an Alorn."
"Why would the cult accept an outsider as their leader?" Garion demanded.
"They aren't aware of the fact that he is an outsider. He mispronounces a few words -just a couple, actually, and only a trained ear would catch them. If I'd been able to get closer to him, I might have been able to steer him toward those words that would have betrayed his origins. I'm sorry that I can't be of more help."
"How strong is his grip on the cult?" Javelin asked.
"It's absolute," she replied. "They'll do anything he tells them to do. They look upon him as something very akin to a God."
"We're going to have to take him alive," Garion said grimly. "I have to have some answers."
"That may be extremely difficult, your Majesty," she said gravely. "It's widely believed in Rheon that he's a sorcerer. I didn't actually see any evidence of it myself, but I talked with a number of people who have, or at least who claimed they have done so."
"You have performed a great service for us, Margravine," Queen Porenn said gratefully. "It shall not be forgotten."
"Thank you, your Majesty," Liselle replied simply, with a formal little curtsy. Then she turned back to Garion. "What information I was able to glean says quite strongly that the cult forces within the walls are not nearly so formidable as we were led to believe. Their numbers are impressive, but they include a great many young boys and old men. They appear to be counting rather desperately on a force that's marching toward the city under the command of a hidden cult-member."
"Haldar," Barak said.
She nodded.
"And that brings us right back to the absolute necessity of getting inside those walls," Javelin told them. He looked at Durnik. "How long do you estimate that it's going to take for the ground under the north wall to soften enough to topple the structure?"
Durnik sat back, staring thoughtfully at the ceiling of the tent. "We want to take them by surprise," he said, "so I don't think we want the water to come gushing out -not at first, anyway. A gradual seepage would be far less noticeable. It's going to take a while to saturate the ground."
"And we're going to have to be very careful," Garion added. "If this Ulfgar really is a sorcerer, he'll hear us if we make too much noise."
"There'll be plenty of noise when the wall comes down," Barak said. "Why don't you just blow it apart the way you did the back wall of Jarviksholm?"
Garion shook his head. "There are a couple of moments after you unleash your will when you're absolutely vulnerable to attack by anybody who has the same kind of talent. I'd sort of like to be alive and sane when I find my son."
"How long will it take to soak the ground under the wall?" Javelin asked.
Durnik scratched at his cheek. "Tonight," he replied, "and all day tomorrow. By midnight tomorrow, the wall ought to be sufficiently undermined. Then, just before we Garion and I can speed up the flow of water and wash out most of the dirt. It's going to be very wet and soft already, and a good stream of water ought to cut it right out from under the wall. If we lob stones at it from the far side and get a few dozen grappling hooks into it, we should be able to pull it down in short order."
"You might want to pick up the pace with your engines," Yarblek said to Mandorallen. "Give them time to get used to the idea of rocks coming out of the sky. That way they won't pay any attention when you start pounding on their walls tomorrow night."
"Midnight tomorrow, then?" Barak said.
"Right," Garion said firmly.
Javelin looked at his niece. "Do you have the layout of the north quarter of the city fairly well in mind?" he asked.
She nodded.
"Make a sketch for us. We'll need to know where to set up our defenses once we get inside."
"Right after I bathe, uncle."
"We need that sketch, Liselle."
"Not nearly as badly as I need a bath."
"You too, Kheldar," Queen Porenn said firmly.
Silk gave Liselle a speculative look.
"Never mind, Kheldar," she said. "I can wash my own back, thank you."
"Let's go find some water, Durnik," Garion said, getting to his feet. "Underground, I mean."
"Right," the smith replied.
There was no moon, of course. The clouds that had hovered over the area for the past week and more obscured the sky. The night air was chill as Garion and Durnik moved carefully across the shallow valley toward the besieged city
"Cold night," Durnik murmured as they walked through the rank gorse.
"Mmm," Garion agreed. "How deep do you think the water might be lying?"
"Not too deep," Durnik replied. "I asked Liselle how deep the wells are in Rheon. She said that they were all fairly shallow. I think we'll hit water at about twenty-five feet."
"What gave you this idea, anyway?"
Durnik chuckled softly in the darkness. "When I was much younger, I worked for a farmer who gave himself great airs. He thought it might impress his neighbors if he had a well right inside his house. We worked at it all one winter and finally tapped into an artesian flow. Three
days later, his house collapsed. He was very upset about it."
"I can imagine."
Durnik looked up at the looming walls. "I don't know that we need to get any closer," he said. "It might be hard to concentrate if they see us and start shooting arrows at us. Let's work around to the north side."
"Right."
They moved even more carefully now, trying to avoid making any sound in the rustling gorse.
"This should do it," Durnik whispered. "Let's see what's down there." Garion let his thoughts sink quietly down through the hard-packed earth under the north wall of the city. The first few feet were difficult, since he kept encountering moles and earthworms. An angry chittering told him that he had briefly disturbed a badger. Then he hit a layer of rock and probed his thought along its flat surface, looking for fissures.
"Just to your left," Durnik murmured. "Isn't that a crack?"
Garion found it and wormed his way downward. The fissure seemed to grow damper and damper the deeper he went.
"It's wet-down there," he whispered, "but the crack's so narrow that the water's barely seeping up."
"Let's widen the crack -but not too much. Just enough to let a trickle come up."
Garion bent his will and felt Durnik's will join with his. Together they shouldered the crack in the rock a bit wider. The water lying beneath the rock layer gushed upward. Together they pulled back and felt the water begin to erode the hard-packed dirt under the wall, seeping and spreading in the darkness beneath the surface.
"Let's move on," Durnik whispered. "We ought to open up six or eight places under the wall in order to soak the ground thoroughly. Then tomorrow night we can push the cracks wide open."
"Won't that wash out this whole hillside?" Garion asked, also whispering.
"Probably ."
"That's going to make it a little hard for our troops when they rush this place."
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