Avondale V

by Toby Neighbors

  The close quarters that Rafe had hoped would give his men an edge was turning out to be just as effective for the king’s soldiers, who were well trained. They fought hard and found weaknesses in the small groups of defenders in their paths. Hours passed, and there were hard-fought battles on three levels of the city and on both sides of the palace. Rafe paced, gave orders, moved his troops to different locations, and took reports, but there was nothing else he could do. By noon, the crossbowmen were returning, which meant there was nowhere left for them to take cover and fire on the enemy. As soon as Rafe saw them, he went back into the palace to make his report.

  The earl’s servants were crowded into the feasting hall, along with most of Captain Rowen’s men. The kitchens were cold, and food had been stashed around the palace for the soldiers to eat when they had the opportunity. Rafe went through the feasting hall and made his way to the earl’s primary audience chamber. The long, narrow room was filled with courtiers, mostly women, who looked just as frightened and as helpless as the servants in the feasting hall. The crowd parted so that Rafe could approach the earl.

  “It’s time, my lord,” Rafe said.

  “Be sure your men do all they can to protect these innocents,” Earl Ageus said.

  “Yes, my lord.”

  The earl left through the small doorway at the back of the hall behind his reception area. Rafe, along with the twelve guardsmen whose job was to stay with the earl at all times, followed him. They went back up to the rooftop, and Rafe immediately went to the north side of the palace roof. His heart sank a little as he saw crossbowmen approaching. That meant that a full retreat to the palace would soon be called. His men would have to fall back simultaneously to keep the enemy from seizing the opportunity to ambush the defenders as they retreated to the palace.

  Rafe turned and saw that Earl Ageus was searching the sky for any sight of Tiberius. Rafe felt a stab of regret for his friend. Rafe didn’t want to die, but that wasn’t why he had hoped Tiberius would return. There had been a bond between Ti and his father, since the young wizard had healed the earl. Now, Rafe worried that Ti’s failure to return and save Avondale would taint the way Earl Ageus viewed his youngest son. Rafe knew that Ti was a man of honor, who would gladly give his life to defend the people he loved. And now Rafe hoped that Tiberius wouldn’t appear. He didn’t want his friend to die with him, and Rafe settled in his heart and mind that death was unavoidable now.

  He thought of Olyva, but thinking of her hurt too much. He had vowed to find a way to be with her, but he had known, just as she had, that the odds were against them. She would have to find a way to forgive him, and he would have to forgive himself. He had no time for self-pity.

  “We have to ring the gong,” Rafe announced. “Bring our forces back to the palace while we still can.”

  “You’re sure we can’t hold out any longer?” the earl asked.

  “We’ve done as well as could be hoped for. The palace is our last hope now.”

  “Tiberius will return,” the earl said. “He has to.”

  “And we want as many men as we can muster ready when he does,” Rafe said. “We must call our forces back.”

  “All right,” the earl said. “Ring the gong.”

  A huge, brass sheet had been placed on the palace roof. The officers with Rafe had to work together to lift it up and hang it from the tall metal poles that were mounted into the stone rooftop. Once the plate was hung, a large man with a long-handled axe stepped forward. The axe head had been replaced with a wooden knob that was wrapped in thick wool. He swung the mallet hard, smashing it into the gong, which sent a resounding bong throughout the city.

  “Again!” ordered Rafe, who was leaning out over the rooftop. “Keep ringing it until I give the order to stop.”

  The big man didn’t reply; he just swung his mallet again. The sound was ominous and sad. Rafe saw scores of soldiers running back to the palace. The lower levels had already been blocked off. The window shutters were hammered down and reinforced with thick, wooden beams. Soldiers were set to guard each one, as well as the doors used by the servants as they went about their daily tasks. On the main floor, the massive front doors were still open. The retreating soldiers came in and were sent straight up to the roof, where most would be set to guard the entrance or the long causeway that led to the lookout tower and city wall. So far, the king’s soldiers hadn’t utilized the wall to try and flank the defenders, but Rafe knew it was only a matter of time.

  The crossbowmen had already been assigned to the various windows and balconies, where they could use their weapons once the the king’s soldiers appeared. The entire retreat took less than fifteen minutes. The last man in the palace was General Saryns, whose men had been holding the streets.

  Rafe saw the palace doors close far below him, and for a moment his mind shot back to when Brutas had hung him upside down from the palace roof. A split second of utter terror threatened to wreck Rafe, but he managed to choke the fear back and calm himself down. His heart was thundering as he walked over to the gong.

  “You may stop now,” he said.

  “Thank goodness,” the earl announced. “I though my head would split open and save my son the trouble.”

  It was a weak joke, but the nerves of the soldiers on the rooftop were worn thin. They laughed, and Rafe felt his admiration for the earl rising. His father had loved Earl Ageus, but Rafe had never understood why. Once, when Rafe was just a boy, he’d asked his father why he cared so much for the earl. His father had told him that Ageus had not always been the bitter, resentful man he’d grown into. That made no sense to Rafe at the time, but now he saw it. He could see the man his father had loved and stood by, even died for. Rafe didn’t feel that strongly about Earl Ageus, but he understood a little better the man his father had known.

  “So what do we do now?” the earl asked Rafe.

  “We wait and see what Leonosis does.”

  “His ship hasn’t left the far side of the city.”

  “That’s because he isn’t on it,” said Captain Saryns as he made his way between his men to where Rafe stood with the earl. “Lord Leonosis is with his troops.”

  “Are you sure?” Rafe asked.

  “He looks like he’s dying,” the captain said, wiping sweat off his forehead. “Thin, pale, but very active. He’s using magic against us.”

  Rafe felt his stomach drop. Fighting the king’s army was one thing, but fighting a wizard would be impossible. Whoever had blown the city wall down could do the same thing with the earl’s palace and kill them all in one fell swoop.

  Chapter 37

  Leonosis

  The battles had been titillating at first, but as the hours wore on and the fighting grew more even, they often stalled. The two armies formed shield walls in the narrow streets, often several rows deep, so that the battle dissolved into a shoving match that could last for hours if left to their own devices. Draggah was all too happy to get involved.

  He pulled buildings down on the defenders, crushing them under timber and stone. Their cries of terror and agony filled him with what Leonosis could only describe as a sick glee. The demon was like a child given the freedom to tear everything around him to pieces, and the stalwart city of Avondale was like a city made of sand to him.

  At first it was enough to simply kill the enemy, but soon his perversion grew. He used his magic to rip the defenders’ bodies apart, all the while reveling not just in the grotesque killings, but in the way the other soldiers, even his own, reacted to the atrocities. His commander was impassive, his face a mask showing neither approval or disdain, but calm obedience no matter what the order.

  And Draggah had no concern for the protection of his own forces. If the building fell on them as well as the defenders, so be it. There were many times when the creature could have used his power to send the defenders running for their lives, but instead he ordered his troops to fight to the death just for his pleasure. Some had deserted, slipping into the homes and aband
oned buildings when the opportunity arose. Draggah had no concerns for them. The entire army could have turned against him, and he would have fought on, destroying the Avondale war band with his powerful magic.

  There was a growing sense of destructive power that seemed to be feeding Draggah’s own evil magic. At first Leonosis thought that Ariel was doing something, but eventually it was as if the mountain itself was empowering the demon to destroy the city. Leonosis was certain that something dark was coming up from deep in the mountain. His own senses would have missed it, but Leonosis’ link to Draggah cracked open wider and wider as the demon worked his magic and reveled in the gruesome deaths he caused. It was like a child trying to peek through a hole in a wall and occasionally getting glimpses of the activity taking place on the other side. And even though Leonosis hated Draggah and wanted to get away from the insane demonic being, he was seduced by the temptation to connect with Draggah and experience what the demon experienced. It was a secret knowledge and a turning of the tables, and even if Leonosis could never do anything with the information, he still wanted it. He wanted to know Draggah’s secret thoughts and experience the demon’s feelings, as if that might somehow relieve the sense of helplessness Leo felt.

  Bong!

  The sound resonated through the city, reverberating so strongly that it was felt more than heard. Draggah’s soldiers looked up in surprise at the sound, hesitating for a moment in their otherwise relentless attack. The defenders fell back instantly, retreating as quickly as possible.

  “Shall we continue our attack?” the commander asked.

  The soldiers were tired; most had dropped their shields and were either leaning against something or bent over with their hands propped on their knees. Draggah had been enjoying the battle, but he didn’t want to rush things.

  “No,” Draggah said. “See that the men have food and water.”

  “The earl’s men will be reinforcing their position if we wait,” the commander said.

  “Of course they will. But that’s of little concern to us. They will take up positions in the palace. Their strategy is simple. Send word to the other groups. Have everyone take a short rest, then converge on the palace.”

  “As you wish, my liege.”

  The commander gave orders and sent men running to find the rest of the king’s soldiers, who were now spread throughout the city. It would take time to move all his men into position, but Draggah didn’t mind the wait. Normally he was impatient, but Leonosis could feel the demon’s elation at the carnage all around him. He moved through the debris from battle. Human blood turned black when mixed with dust. The splatters of blood on the flagstones were like some great painting, and Draggah wanted to take in every brushstroke.

  He climbed over the toppled buildings, seeking out the most gruesome bodies. There were soldiers whose heads had been smashed, so that gaping holes, still dripping with blood, were filled with the wrinkled, gray brain matter that had been squashed out of the person’s skull.

  Another fallen soldier had his stomach ripped open. The leather armor had split apart, revealing the vulnerable flesh underneath. Leonosis saw the pale white skin now smeared with blood. The soldier’s intestines ran out like threads from a tapestry that had frayed and fallen from the loose weave.

  There was vomit, offal, and blood everywhere. The entire city reeked of death. The coppery smell of blood was mixed with human waste and flesh that was already growing rancid in the exposed air. It was a nightmarish scene, but one that Draggah sought to burn into his twisted mind. Leonosis wanted to scream or even pluck out his own eyes so that he didn’t have to see the horrid scenes of death, but Draggah wouldn’t let him. The demon reveled in death and enjoyed forcing Leonosis to face it time and again.

  Leonosis knew his torment only fed the demon’s evil need for cruelty, but he couldn’t help but lash out as Draggah went back to view more and more of the horrible atrocities. There were decapitations, limbs severed or ripped off, wounds that had peeled the skin from the victim’s face so that the bloody skull, rimmed with muscle sinew, was revealed. There were eyes laying on the ground, staring blindly at nothing. And of course the wounded were everywhere, some begging for death, others unable to understand what had happened to them.

  The carnage was everywhere, but the scenes of horror lessened as Draggah moved toward the palace. His soldiers were already there. The commander had reformed all their remaining troops, so that the palace was surrounded. Squads had been sent up onto the city walls, where they stood guarding the causeway that led to the palace. Others had been sent to the gardens at the rear of the palace, and still more took up station on the lower level to guard the servants’ quarters. When Draggah finally arrived, he looked up. There were men at every entrance, even the windows of the upper floors. And on the roof, mere silhouettes against the sun high overhead, Draggah could see even more men leaning over the parapets. Some he even recognized.

  “Father,” Draggah called out. “You are beaten. Admit your fault and give me my brother.”

  “Brutas is in the dungeon,” the earl shouted back. “You can have him any time you want to join him there.”

  “Brutas? I did not know he lived. The father I know would have killed any son who tried to usurp his power.”

  “I plan on just killing one of my children,” the earl said. “And I take no pleasure in it. But if you think you can attack Avondale and live, you’ve lost your mind.”

  “I have lost it, that is true. I’m not the boy you knew. I’ve expanded my horizons and my station in life. You can call me King Leonosis now.”

  “Leo, stop this madness!”

  “Give me Tiberius. I know he’s here. I feel his power.”

  “You’re wrong,” Earl Ageus called. “Tiberius hasn’t been here in over a week. I sent him away.”

  “You can’t fool me, Father. I feel his power. Send him to me, with the Balestone, and I’ll let you live.”

  “If Tiberius were here,” Rafe shouted. “You’d be nothing but a smear on the bottom of his boot!”

  The men from Avondale shouted and jeered. They could see the king’s soldiers and knew there was no escape from the palace. All they had left was mocking bravado, and Draggah smiled. He was enjoying the anticipation of death and suffering he knew was inevitable. Either the war band fought him and died or they surrendered and died—it made no difference to Draggah.

  “Where is your father, Rafe?” Draggah shouted. “Surely the sword master should be here with his men.”

  “Grentz was a hero,” the earl shouted. “Do not sully his name with your mockery.”

  “Was? Oh, has he passed? That is a shame. In days gone by, we might have settled things man to man, if your champion had been brave enough to accept my challenge. Perhaps you would like to come out from your daddy’s shadow, Rafe Grentzson, and face me in battle.”

  “I’ll fight you,” Rafe shouted. “Gladly.”

  The men from Avondale cheered again, and Draggah smiled.

  “You are no swordsman,” Earl Ageus shouted, quieting his own troops with his booming voice. “Take your foul magic away from this place.”

  “You doubt that I can use the sword, Father?”

  “I doubt that you have any honor.”

  “Would you place your entire war band in harm’s way to save just one man?”

  “Rafe Grentzson is a man of honor. Do not besmirch our family with your sorcerous evil.”

  “Why do my powers frighten you so much, old man? Is not Tiberius a wizard? He is the reason I am here. He has broken Valana’s most sacred laws. If you do not wish to see your champion cut down at your doorstep, then turn my brother over to me, along with all he possesses.”

  “He is not here,” the earl insisted.

  “Then I shall darken the city with your blood, old man.”

  “Not if I have anything to say about it!” Rafe shouted as he swung down from a rope ladder that had been dropped over the roof.

  Draggah felt a thrill as
he watched Rafe descend. Here was the man who had dared try to interfere with the demon’s plans. He would play with the boy, give him a sense of false hope, and finally destroy him. That would certainly demoralize the earl’s war band. Then the true slaughter would commence.

  Chapter 38

  Tiberius

  Stopping, even for a short while, was maddening for Tiberius, but he knew that keeping the wind spell up was beginning to cost him what little strength he had left. The wind was picking up, and the captain had to angle the sails and wrestle with the steering oar to keep the ship moving in the right direction, but at least Tiberius knew they were making progress.

  Once the ship had slowed to a reasonable speed, Lexi had sent Dancer ahead to scout for them. Tiberius ate his morning meal and walked around the small deck to regain a sense of normalcy. Lexi walked with him, and they talked about simple, everyday things. Far below them on the plain, they could see a herd of tamakas grazing. It made Tiberius miss his whip. He had lost track of it somewhere in Avondale. He would have to find it or perhaps make his own. The thought of doing something with his hands sounded appealing. He loved magic and being a wizard, but now that his dream of wielding magic had taken on such massive implications, he really wanted to do something simple.

  They talked about the Hoskali and how life seemed so much simpler among the people of the plain. Tiberius had no real skills, and Lexi’s own set of special abilities would be of little use to the nomadic tribes, but they both felt something pulling them back to the blighted lands. Tiberius could imagine spending his days learning to make useful things for the tribe, perhaps entertaining the children at night with stories of his great adventures.