We did the sensible thing and crept into a small copse of trees standing between Avendoom and the road to the south. The view was wonderful. But any fool could see that we couldn’t simply stroll across to those city towers that were so close and yet so impossibly far away. The Nameless One’s lads were all around and they would spot us right away.
Our army was formed up along the city walls. Quite a large crowd, really, but compared with the Nameless One’s forces, it was a mere drop in the ocean. The Suburb had been totally destroyed. All that was left of it was dark patch on the snow-covered ground.
As bad luck would have it, there were several hundred barbarians hanging about right in front of the copse of trees, and we had to wait until they moved on to attack our side before we could get past without being noticed.
“We’re not likely to get into the city through the gates, Egrassa,” the gnome objected irritably. “I can’t stand magicians! Look! Another spell! May they all rot in the darkness!”
Thousands of icicles suddenly descended on the detachment of barbarians that was inconveniencing us, and in just a few seconds the men were transformed into a bloody pulp. Immediately a huge flower of flame blossomed above the city walls. The enemy’s shamans hadn’t wasted any time in striking back. The two sides were systematically annihilating each other’s infantry. If it kept on like this, soon there wouldn’t be anybody but magicians and shamans left. The commanding officers of both sides were apparently of the same opinion. Horns sounded, drums started pounding, and the dark masses shuddered and started moving toward each other.
“Right, it’s time!”
“Hang on, will you, Mumr!” said Hallas, still lying on the snow and surveying the battlefield. “Let them start fighting first!”
“Harold, you used to live in the city,” Egrassa said to me. “Is there any other way to get into Avendoom apart from the city gates?”
“There is,” I replied after a moment’s thought. “But it’s no help to us.”
“Why?”
“They probably won’t let us climb up the walls on a rope. And anyway, we don’t have a rope that long.”
“Is that the only way?”
“Well, we could try going through the municipal drains, but that—”
I was forced to break off when a fiery meteorite went crashing into the next copse and incinerated a detachment of the enemy’s cavalry.
“—But that’s all closed off with metal grilles. And we’d still have to get to the walls somehow. But I do have one little idea. The city walls run into the Cold Sea. I expect the fishermen who live in the villages nearby have all run off ages ago or moved into the city. We could try to find a boat.”
“That won’t get you anywhere! There are gnomes with cannons in the Bastion that defend the entrance to the harbor. They’ll smash any boat to splinters! And we’ll end up as fish food!”
“No they won’t, Hallas!” Kli-Kli reassured the gnome. “We’ll stand you in the boat so they can see you from the Bastion and they won’t fire!”
“Me? Get in a boat? I won’t do it!”
“Oh, yes you will! If you want the Nameless One to go back home, you’ll get in a boat! And you’ll yell loud and clear in that language of yours, so your kinsmen can hear you,” said Egrassa, completely ignoring the gnome’s whinging. “Here, take your mattock and smash this.”
The elf handed the gnome a crystal.
“What is it?” Kli-Kli asked.
“Markauz gave it to me in Zagraba. He got it from Artsivus. He said as soon as we got close, we should smash it—and the Order would know we were here.”
“Well, just how much closer could we be?” Hallas muttered, swinging his mattock.
It took the gnome two attempts to break the crystal. The stone smashed like any ordinary piece of glass and … and nothing happened.
“Now what?” I asked obtusely.
“How should I know?” asked Egrassa, already in the saddle. “I was told to smash it when the time came. We’ve done that, now it’s up to the Order. Is it far from here to the Cold Sea, Harold?”
“A fair distance. We have to cross the field and go through that wood over there, then it’s about fifteen hundred yards to the shoreline.”
“We’ll get through! Everybody stick together and don’t fall back! If anyone loses their horse or just falls, yell!”
The elf was right there, the battle was raging and thundering all around, and anyone who was at the back might very easily not be heard.
We went flying out of the copse and headed toward the dark wood. Sagot save us! It looked so far away!
The space ahead of us was empty, but that wouldn’t last long. I dug my heels into the sides of my horse and concentrated on trying not to fall off. We rushed up a hill and down again, and found ourselves in the (relatively) empty camp of the Nameless One’s army. The Crayfish seemed very surprised to see us there. But only one of them tried to block our way. Eel ran the brave man down with his horse and we went flying out like a whirlwind into the rear of the enemy’s pikemen.
The lads didn’t notice us, they were too busy trying to dodge the emerald-green sparks showering down on them from out of the sky. When they hit the ground, the sparks turned into massive great serpents that spat green spheres. We had to veer to the left, and we’d almost reached the city walls when Hallas’s horse caught an arrow in the crupper. At full gallop, Mumr grabbed the gnome off the animal that was going insane with the pain (how did he manage to do that?) and dumped him across his own horse.
“Our own side’s firing at us! Out into the field,” Eel shouted to the elf.
To the right of us a battalion smashed into the tattered ranks of the barbarians and northern tribesmen. We had to rein in our horses again and go dashing back in the opposite direction. Eventually we reached the wood, but that didn’t bring us any relief. We immediately found ourselves surrounded by horsemen. At first I was afraid they were the Nameless One’s lads, but then I noticed they were wearing the gray and blue uniform of the royal guard.
“Who are you?” one of the horsemen barked.
The other soldiers sensibly kept their hands on their spears.
“We’re on your side!” Hallas panted, climbing down off Eel’s horse.
Naturally, they didn’t believe us. But, fortunately, they weren’t in any great hurry to kill us, either. The presence of an elf and a gnome in this bunch of deserters or vagabonds or spies of the Nameless One prevented them from jumping to any hasty conclusions. Without making any fuss, Egrassa took out the paper with the royal seal, which was badly crumpled after our long journey. At least that produced some effect.
“What are you doing here?” the guardsman asked.
“We need to get into the city, milord. Can you help us?”
“I doubt it. Only the gates in the northern wall can be opened. All the others are blocked off. And fighting your way right across the battlefield to the other side of the city is far too difficult.”
“Look!” someone gasped.
There was certainly something to look at. Two immense purple spheres were flying slowly above the men engaged in furious battle, heading toward the city. These spheres were much larger than the one that Lafresa had thrown at our ferry when we were crossing the Iselina. The first one touched the wall and exploded with a tremendous rumbling blast that almost knocked me off my feet. Flames, smoke, stones, and men were sent flying up to the heavens, and a breach about fifty yards across appeared in the wall. Then a little cloud of blue light appeared beside the second sphere and lashed out at the Nameless One’s creation. The purple sphere went flying back in the direction it had come from and exploded when it crashed into a crowd of giants.
“Those magic-mongers can do it when they want to,” the gnome chuckled in delight, rubbing his hands together.
“Bugler! It’s time! Sound the attack!” the commander of the guards shouted. “I don’t know who you are, gentlemen, but I wish you luck.”
“One question
, milord! Are there any boats on the seashore?”
“I don’t know, elf!”
The hundred-strong unit of horsemen went tearing out of the wood and into battle to the sound of the bugle.
The wood—which wasn’t really a wood, just a big copse—was quiet. We didn’t run into any more surprises. But when we came out of the wood and were almost at the sea (I could already smell the salt in the air), we had the absolutely outrageous bad luck to run into two giants. Darkness only knew what these blue-skinned brutes were doing so far away from the battle, but when they saw us, they grabbed their clubs and started moving in our direction at a brisk trot.
“Get back!” Eel barked. “We can’t handle them! Into the trees! Into the trees!”
I swear by Sagot that the lads who were running at us were a good eight yards tall. Their blue, hairy skin did nothing to render these wonders of nature any more charming. And a glance at their clubs was enough to dispel even the slightest desire to make these creatures’ acquaintance. So our group promptly swung its horses round and went hurtling back to the wood. When I reached the trees, I looked back and saw that Kli-Kli wasn’t trying to run. The gobliness’s mare was fleeing in panic, but the girl was down on her knees almost under the very feet of the giants, drawing a picture in the snow. Ah, may the demons have me! What a time to take up drawing!
I swore and pulled hard on the bridle. The little green fool had to be saved! I rode my horse straight toward the gobliness, ignoring the warning shouts that rang out behind my back.
The giants had already reached Kli-Kli, and one of them raised his huge club above her head. Beside them, Glo-Glo’s granddaughter looked especially small. I shouted for her to get out of there. Kli-Kli finished her picture, looked up, and pointed a finger at the giants.
Something that looked like a hammer made out of smoke appeared in the air and struck the monsters mighty blows in the chest. The blue-skinned giants were flung back more than a hundred yards, as if they weighed nothing at all. Whatever it was the gobliness had conjured up, it seemed to have knocked the life out of them.
“Have you completely lost your wits?” I yelled at her as I reined in my horse.
She gave me one of her most stupid smiles.
“There, that’s the Hammer of Dust, not some silly little cheap trick!” she said in a trembling voice, and flopped over in a dead faint.
I cursed all the gods and got down off my horse.
Egrassa and company had already ridden up.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“He’s all right! It must be the effect of the spell.”
Hallas jumped down off Lamplighter’s horse and started briskly rubbing the gobliness’s face with snow. She immediately came round and asked the gnome to save the sloppy stuff for some other time.
“Are you able to stay in the saddle?” Eel asked her.
“If you’re willing to share your horse. Those giants frightened my nag, we’ll never catch her now.”
There was a bang and rumble on the other side of the wood. The magicians were up to their tricks again.
“It’s not far to the sea. If we want to get into the city, we need to hurry.”
The sea was very close. Like the Suburb, the fishing village had been burnt, in case the enemy tried to use the building materials to make siege engines. But there was a perfectly good fishing boat lying on the shore. The moment Hallas saw the sea and the waves, his face turned sour and he declared that this tub, which was the only thing any intelligent person could call it, would sink as soon as it put to sea.
But we never got closer than ten yards to the boat. Three figures in gray cloaks blocked our way. One was an orc, but the other two were men. They were all armed, and all wearing smoky gray crystals on silver chains round their necks. The Gray Ones had managed to turn up at just the wrong moment.
There was a rustling sound as Eel’s “brother” and “sister” were drawn out of their scabbards. Egrassa gestured to the Garrakian to stop, and shook his head in warning. There was no way we could handle three Gray Ones, no matter how hard we tried. We looked at them. They looked at us. The leaden waves of the gray sea boomed beside us.
“Give us the Horn,” said one of the men. “It doesn’t belong to you.”
“Or to you. It doesn’t belong to anyone,” Kli-Kli replied. “But we need it right now.”
“If the artifact stays with you, the balance may be disrupted.”
“What balance are we talking about here?” Eel asked furiously. “Have you seen what’s happening over by the city?”
“We ask you one last time to give us the Horn.”
“And what if we don’t? What then, orc?” Egrassa said with a dark laugh, tightening his grip on the krasta.
“I also advise you to return our brother’s crystal and weapon,” the Gray One continued as imperturbably as ever.
And then it happened. There was a deafening boom and four men carrying the staffs of archmagicians of the Order appeared out of thin air. One of the Gray Ones was killed instantly. The other two leapt nimbly to one side. The orc threw himself at the nearest magician and the man who was still alive drew a pair of twin swords. The orc took the magician with him when he died.
Two of the magicians went to work on the surviving Gray One. He dashed at the nearest archmagician, waving his sword, but a staff barred his way. There was a brief flash, and the Gray One went flying back to the very edge of the sea. Egrassa fired with his bow and hit the man in the back as he was getting up off the gravel. As the Gray One turned to face this new danger, the archmagicians cast a magical net, burning with emerald green fire, over him. The spell cut him into ten separate pieces. I looked away.
“We were lucky they were soldiers, and not magicians,” Kli-Kli muttered. “If the Gray Ones had known any magic, the magicians wouldn’t have had it so easy.”
One of the archmagicians, who was quite young and looked a bit like Valder, came running over to us.
“Did you get the Horn?”
“Yes, Your Magicship,” Egrassa said, bowing.
“This is no time for etiquette, elf!” the magician snapped brusquely. “We received your message, and the entire Council is already assembled! Where is the artifact?”
I reached into my bag. We heard a series of explosions from the direction of the city.
“Another hour, and there will be nothing left to save. Quickly!”
The archmagician grabbed the Horn out of my hands. There was another boom, and the three magicians disappeared, without even bothering to take their dead comrade’s body with them. Naturally, they didn’t invite us along.
“And now what do we do?” Hallas asked acidly.
“Now?” said Egrassa, peering thoughtfully at the sea. “Now we wait.”
We stayed there on the cold and windy seashore.
To wait.
* * *
The war against the Nameless One ended as suddenly as it had begun. The surviving members of the Council of the Order did the job right and pumped the Horn full of power right up to the brim. The sorcerer immediately lost all his ability to work magic, and without sorcery the Nameless One’s army was just an army, but we had the Order on our side.
The giants sensed that their master had lost his power and fled in fear. The ogres who had come to Valiostr had been killed much earlier by the magicians’ spell, so most of our enemies were men—barbarians, warriors of the northern tribes, the remains of the army of the Crayfish Dukedom, and a whole heap of other rabble. They still outnumbered our soldiers by a long way, but despite the breach in the wall, the bombardment of the city from catapults, and the terrible attacks by the sorcerer’s shamans, who had not lost their powers, Avendoom stood firm.
The battle continued for another five days, quieting down and then flaring up again. On the second day the young king withdrew all his forces into the city, after deciding not to take the field for a general engagement. The gnomes took all the cannons out of the Bastion and put them on
the city walls, and the defensive action began.
There were days when one section or another of the wall changed hands six or seven times. We were thrown back, we forced the attackers back outside the wall, then they came at us again. And it went on and on like that forever. We came close to losing everything when the Nameless One’s supporters among the inhabitants of the city almost got their hands on the Rainbow Horn. But Artsivus was guarding the artifact like the apple of his eye, and the traitors were met with magic and stern steel. The supporters of the Nameless One who were stupid enough to surrender were quartered or hanged on the city wall as a lesson to the aggressors.
We suffered losses, but we stood firm. On one absolutely beautiful December day we heard the roar of battle horns, and the Second Army of the South arrived, together with the First Army of the West and the Third Assault Army, reinforced by the lads from Miranueh and volunteers from Isilia. Together they struck the unsuspecting enemy a mighty blow in the rear.
Stalkon gathered all his forces together and led them out from behind the walls, hitting the enemy smack between the eyes. Our opponents still had a numerical advantage but they faltered and ran. And the Nameless One didn’t hang about for a little chat with the Order, either, he took off with his heels twinkling. The army drove the retreating enemy to the north and out past the Lonely Giant.
Everybody agreed about one thing: It would be a long time before the Nameless One recovered from a blow like this, and he wouldn’t try to attack the kingdom again for another five or six hundred years at least. We would have to hope that if the sorcerer did get it into his head to come back and snap at Valiostr’s heels again, the Order wouldn’t waste any time getting the Rainbow Horn out of its old cobweb-covered trunk.
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