by Неизвестный
His hand rested on her calf. The woman found the gesture strangely disconcerting.
" To have come so far and to be blocked like this. I can' t bear it. I cannot!"
" Jacy," she said slowly. " You said there wasn' t a mage in your ranks."
" True. We not only scorn them; we fear them for all they' ve done to our people."
" How do you keep Iron Tongue at bay? Why doesn' t he simply overrun you using a spell and capture the entire of Bron?"
The man turned and sullenly stared at the impenetrable wall of magic. For a moment Inyx worried she hadn' t phrased the question properly and had again violated Noratumi' s cultural mores. But he was only thinking, not sulking.
" We are fighters. He cannot kill all of us, no matter how good his magic. He knows if he provokes us enough we will launch an attack to the death. Every one of us may die, but so would Wurnna. Not even his golden words can catch us all in one place."
" So you snipe at one another, Iron Tongue taking a few captives, you killing a few Wurnnans."
Noratumi shrugged. Inyx knew that such an arrangement benefited only the leaders. It provided a convenient rallying point in case of internal dissension; who dared oppose a leader in the midst of a bitter war? That the war never reached fierce proportions gave even greater strength to Noratumi' s position. She guessed Iron Tongue had much the same hold over his people.
" No mages, so we can' t break the spell. Using physical means to smash through is not likely. What worries me about even trying is that the effort might attract Claybore' s attention," Inyx commented.
" This is Iron Tongue' s doing," insisted Noratumi.
" It is Claybore' s," countered Inyx. " His imprint is all over it. No magic, no physical means of ingress possible. Can we fly over it?" She glanced up in time to see a gerfalcon' s wing brush along the surface of the barrier. The bird emitted a shrill shriek of pain, fluttered about, sending down a cascade of feathers, and only managed to swoop away at the last instant before striking the ground.
" Going over does not look promising," said Noratumi grimly.
" So we dig."
" Dig? A tunnel?"
Inyx smiled. It was her turn not to respond. She reined her horse about and headed on a course parallel to the barrier, looking for the proper soil. Digging through rock presented problems she didn' t want to face. Loam didn' t give a good tunnel. Clay might present the best of all terrains to consider.
" Inyx," came the man' s words from behind. She pulled to a halt and waited for him. " Seek not a likely spot."
" Oh?"
Jacy' s shoulders slumped and he looked down at the ground, a small boy caught filching candies.
" A way already exists."
" So what are we waiting for? Lead on, Jacy. And do tell me why it is disconcerting to tell me about it." Inyx had visions of deep, dire secrets being revealed. The answer disappointed her.
" I am the leader of all Bron, and first of all time we are miners, workers in stone. This is such an obvious idea it ought to have occurred to me. You are an outsider without:" He cut off the sentence abruptly.
" Without what?" she prodded. This was one time she wouldn' t let him get away with answering.
" Without proper breeding." He looked up, his amber eyes glowing. " You are the most beautiful woman ever I have seen, but your manners! The way you ask questions shows no sense of decency or rank."
" Ignoring all that, why not just take us to the tunnel so we can get into Bron?"
He heaved a deep sigh, as if saying that this was exactly what he meant about her lack of breeding. Instead, Noratumi motioned for his small group to form up behind Inyx. He vaulted into his saddle and pointed straight ahead. The woman followed the line of his arm and saw only thick undergrowth on a low hill. Jacy trotted past her and let his horse paw at the dirt on the hillside. In a very few minutes the vegetation and a light covering of dirt had been pushed away to reveal a bronze door.
" It leads into the dungeons of Bron. Seldom has it been used. Our founders decided an escape path was required should an attacking army lay siege."
" Now it' s providing entrance." Inyx wasn' t sure she believed Noratumi' s explanation, but it hardly mattered. Several of his men worked to open the massive door. A shaft large enough to ride a horse in gaped open when they had finished.
" Close the door after us," commanded Noratumi.
" What of the concealing vegetation and dirt? Don' t you think someone should stay outside to camouflage the entrance?"
Noratumi answered the questions in a roundabout fashion, saying, " The door securely bars from the inside. Since all remaining citizens of Bron are within the protecting walls, there can be no harm in locking it from the inside."
Even as he spoke, an arrow whizzed by to bury its broadhead in a time- dried wooden beam.
" The door! Get it closed!" cried Inyx. She turned in the saddle and stared out the opening. From downhill came a thin line of grey moving out of the forest. Claybore' s soldiers had received reinforcements- or not all had been drowned. Where they came from hardly mattered now. That they fired so accurately did. Three of Noratumi' s number had fallen under the unexpected onslaught.
The huge bronze door moved with ponderous slowness. Inyx dodged another arrow, jerking away as the fletching grazed her cheek. The door slammed shut with a deafening boom. She heard the echoes travel far down the tunnel.
" I hope this isn' t a dead end," she muttered to herself. The warrior woman assured herself the locking assembly on the inside of the door was sufficient to hold back any but the most fervent of attacks, then rode deeper into the hill, following Jacy Noratumi.
The sound of fists pounding impotently against the bronze door trailed her all the way into Bron.
" Now that you have had a chance to relax, would you care for a tour of my lovely Bron?"
Inyx shook her head. They had arrived in the palace dungeons. Getting their mounts up the stone stairs had been a trial, but after that, all had been exactly as Noratumi had promised. Their reception by the remaining citizens within the walls had been little less than tumultuous. Inyx had little taste for such adulation and had pleaded tiredness, and was shown to a sumptuous room in a tower overlooking both the inner city and the valley beyond the walls.
She had taken the opportunity not to sleep but to use an eyepiece obtained for her by the chamberlain to study the movement of the greyclad troops without. What she had seen didn' t please her. More and more gathered around the bronze door in the hillside. Sheer numbers would soon spring open even that sturdy lock. She had no desire to be trapped within the city by the magical barrier and to find Claybore' s soldiers boiling up out of the ground like ants.
" You realize that the tunnel will have to be destroyed?" she asked bluntly.
Again came the polite dancing around the issue. Noratumi gazed out the same window she had and said, " When enough of the grey- clads get into the tunnel, it will be flooded."
Inyx nodded, then brushed back a strand of her black hair. That was a wise decision, she knew. Don' t just destroy the tunnel. Destroy it in such a way that Claybore had to pay dearly for it.
Not that the mage cared one whit for his men. To him they were little more than insects doing his bidding. They were expendable in his drive to conquer all the worlds along the Cenotaph Road.
Even as they stood, Inyx felt a rumbling rising up from the very foundations of the city. Noratumi nodded solemnly. The tunnel had been flooded. She closed her eyes and tried not to think of the watery coffin that shaft had become. Somehow, trying not to think of it made it all the more vivid for her. Stone walls. Water rising. Claustrophobia. Horses rearing and throwing riders. Fear. Cries of panic. Water to the waist, the neck, over the head. Bubbles. Lungs exploding. Death.
Cold, lightless, watery death.
" I would see Bron," she said suddenly, wanting to get her mind off the slaughter under the city. " It appears to be a fair city."
" And one to your
liking, I should think. Nowhere on this entire world is there a place so hospitable."
As they walked, Inyx came to believe Noratumi' s boast. The people greeted not only their leader but her as well. She even thought they would have been cheerful if she hadn' t been accompanied by Noratumi.
" How is it," she asked, hoping the question was phrased with proper politeness, " that the leader of Bron leaves his city to go hunting grey- clads in the desert?"
" This empire, this city, is a shadow of its former self," he answered obliquely. " It is because of the spiders in the mountains, the sorcerers in Wurnna, those damnable grey troopers. I rule this empire, and it is my responsibility to defend it."
" You thought you could reach Wurnna with a small, compact guerrilla force, attack from an unexpected direction, and stop Iron Tongue," she said.
" That was the best platoon of fighters I could muster." Noratumi laughed harshly and without humor. " A pitiful handful of fighters. Such has become the glory of Bron. I thought to reach Wurnna and force Iron Tongue into submission. It was a silly gesture. Remaining, keeping my forces to defend Bron from Claybore, that was the proper course. I see it now."
Inyx started to speak, then bit back the words. She hated to tell the embittered man that he was still wrong. It would be impossible to defend Bron much longer. The balance of power between spider, mage, and human had existed for eons on this world. Claybore introduced a new factor, an unsettling one. Simply retreating behind the walls of the city- state meant eventual defeat.
" What is wrong with attempting to parlay? Iron Tongue and the spiders must surely recognize the danger Claybore poses."
" Parlay? With them? Never."
Bullheadedness was nothing new for Inyx. She possessed a fair amount of the trait herself. " Is destruction preferable?" When Noratumi failed to answer, she rephrased the question. " Dying, losing all of Bron forever, cannot be as honorable as negotiating a peace with Iron Tongue to fight a common enemy."
" Allying with Wurnna is no different than petting a scorpion."
" That might be true, but if the scorpion is useful for a short time, use it."
" As it is used, so shall it try to use." The man made a sweeping gesture encompassing all of Bron. " No, this is the way I ought to have done it. Many wiser voices counseled me to fight from a position of strength rather than mounting a weak attack from the desert. They were ever so correct."
" I want to walk around the city- alone, please, Jacy."
He made a vague gesture with his hands, indicating she should do whatever pleased her. Inyx watched as the man walked away, shoulders slumped under the weight of responsibility. He had been different, more vital, alive, when attacking Claybore' s troops in Kea Dell. Now that he faced only defensive battles, Jacy Noratumi' s spirit was broken.
Inyx wiped at her nose and turned to hide her emotion. Noratumi could not comprehend the forces arrayed against him by Claybore. She looked over the mighty worked- stone battlements of Bron at the magical sheet barring them from the outside world. That magic provided a better siege than any army with engines of destruction. While the city- state might not be attacked through it, none left Bron.
A week? A month? A year? More? Inyx had no idea how long the citizens might hold out. And it hardly mattered. Claybore had them bottled up and out of the game. One third of the power on this world was immobilized. The spiders- another third- did not matter to the sorcerer. That meant full attention turned against Iron Tongue in Wurnna and the recapture of that precious tongue.
Claybore' s full power against a backwater mage already sapped of strength due to decades long warfare with neighbors- the picture turned bleaker by the moment. Inyx realized the only way of escaping a plight identical to that of the others around her was Lan Martak.
" Oh, Lan," she said softly. " I know you cannot hear me, but if you could, know I love you. Once you rescued me from the whiteness between worlds. I need you again to save me from this vile magical imprisonment."
She received no answer, nor had she expected one. Lan and Krek were making their way toward Bron through the mountains. Soon, within days, they would discover the city' s predicament and Lan would summon up magics beyond her understanding. Perhaps he might rely on new chants from the master mage' s grimoire he carried tucked away in his tunic; or perhaps a simple spell already in his arsenal might suffice.
She hoped he came soon. Already, the walls crushed in on her.
The rest of the day was spent talking with the people of Bron, trying to learn more of their ways, finding that their resolve was strong and that their resources dwindled daily. Simple attrition would bring an end to this once- great city in less than a month.
Inyx walked the battlements looking down into the valley. The river already waned, the industrious creatures building a new dam across the mouth to reform their placid lake. In another week the flow would be properly regulated and all would return to normal. The graves of a hundred or more greys might be exposed to the light of day, but that was small consolation.
Inyx' s path led her back to her luxurious quarters in the palace tower. She sat in a chair staring out into space, trying to decide on a course of action and only spinning her mental wheels. She needed divine inspiration.
It did not come.
" Lady, may I bring you some food? It has been hours since you last ate."
Inyx turned dulled eyes toward the servant. The man appeared concerned about her welfare. The least she could do was put his mind at rest.
" I' m not hungry, not now. If anything, the entire city should begin food rationing. With careful doling, we might survive another two months."
" Is it so readily apparent?" the man asked.
Startled, Inyx faced him and said, " I do not pretend to be an expert but I can count both people and supplies in warehouses."
" May I be impertinent, lady?"
She nodded, puzzled at the request.
" Why don' t you tell Lord Jacy?"
" He won' t listen. He thinks this city impervious to outside forces. In the past, it must have been. But no longer. Claybore is too great a sorcerer; he brings to bear powers learned on a score of other worlds."
She turned away from the servant and stared at the battlements. Those walls had been constructed four hundred years ago by master stonemasons, one woman had boasted to her. Not once in four entire centuries had they been breached. Inyx started to say something further to the servant, then stopped.
The stone walls surrounding the city began to glow a dull red.
" Look. Tell me what you see. Hurry!"
The servant rushed to her, then shook his head, muttering, " It can' t be. Th- that' s not possible!"
The entire wall now glowed red, but one spot near the base turned incandescent. In seconds, molten rock erupted, leaving behind a perfect circular tunnel, through the ten- yard- thick stone wall. Through the tunnel rode grey- clad soldiers, swords swinging and axes humming a death song.
Inyx witnessed the beginning of the end of Bron.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Alberto Silvain stood in the peaceful green valley looking up at Bron. The magnificent pile of stone jutted against the sky, silently boastful of its strength. Silvain almost smiled at that ill- conceived vanity. The city would fall. Soon. He and Kiska k' Adesina had planned well for the moment.
" Will this be as easy as you claim, Commander?"
Silvain bowed his head and answered his master.
" Bron is a shell. It must be. The land surrounding it no longer produces foodstuffs to supply it. Water is plentiful but cannot give full sustenance."
" And," cut in k' Adesina, " their leader' s abortive attack into the desert proves their desperation."
" He fought off Silvain," said Claybore, sarcasm tingeing his words. Mechanical legs grated slightly as he twisted about for a better view of the city. Silvain wondered if the blank eye sockets had to point in the direction of vision or if Claybore played with his subordinates, pretending h
uman needs and traits. The sorcerer' s motives were always obscure- and that spurred Silvain ever onward.
In addition to the power offered him by serving such a powerful master, Silvain enjoyed trying to decipher the mage' s motives. What good was raw power without continual personal danger to add spice? Silvain lived on a knife' s edge with Claybore. One slip and he' d find his parts strewn along the Cenotaph Road.
" The company returned to their base after heavy casualties," continued Kiska k' Adesina, unperturbed. In another person, Silvain would have envied her unflappable nature. He had seen strong men quake at the sight of Claybore' s fleshless skull and limbless torso. K' Adesina held no fear, because of her obsession with revenge on Lan Martak. That she did not even fear Claybore counted as a mark against her. Silvain believed in intelligent fear and healthy respect.
" You project the conquest of this city to be accomplished in less than a day?"
" Master, given the way into the city, it will be yours within an hour."
" I do not share your optimism, but I do hope you are accurate in your guessing. This city is a thorn in the side, to be removed quickly and as painlessly as possible. Then I may turn my full talents toward Iron Tongue, since he has what I desire most on this worthless world."
" I have studied Wurnna' s defenses," said Silvain. " While Kiska turned her strategies against Bron, I formulated an attack plan that even the sorcerers will be unable to turn away."
" Show me." The skull did not look at the map Silvain unrolled. The man put that datum away in his mental file. Claybore' s sensory powers bordered on the omniscient. Another thought crossed Silvain' s mind. Did the sorcerer know of Silvain' s and Kiska' s growing physical relationship? Did he approve of it as a way of keeping them both in line? The dangers sharpened Silvain.
" The main defense lies along this canyon. Iron Tongue stands atop a tower and: speaks. Armies turn away."
" He uses my tongue."