The Citadel

by Knaak, Richard

  Caught by surprise, the mage managed to blurt, “Come to rescue you, of course! Listen to me. I’m still under Valkyn’s spell, but you might have a chance to remove it. We need to—”

  “Tyros, I can’t help you!”

  He noticed something strange in her expression. Had he been wrong? Had Serene returned to the arms of her former love?

  She read his expression. “No, it’s not that. Never! I can’t help you because Valkyn’s put me under a spell!”

  “But you’re a cleric. You commune directly with Branchala. Valkyn’s power cannot be that strong, unless your faith has been weakened because of the past you two share.”

  She might have answered him, but the renewed cries of the gargoyles outside caught the attention of them both. Tyros raced to the balcony.

  Bright sunlight momentarily blinded him. As his eyes adjusted, the crimson-clad mage realized that he hadn’t seen the sun since the party had arrived at Castle Atriun. Gazing up, Tyros noted that not only had the sun broken through, but that most of the cloud cover had, in fact, dissipated.

  A time when the clouds will thin …

  “Come on, Bakal!” Tyros muttered. “You have to hurry!”

  “Bakal?” Serene joined him, looking confused. “They’re not acting up because of Bakal! Don’t you see what’s out there?”

  Going to the rail, Tyros searched the sky, looking for a reason that would draw the attention of every gargoyle in sight.

  He found not one reason but two … and both were black dragons.

  Someone else had apparently taken advantage of his handiwork, someone with an entirely different agenda. On the back of each behemoth rode at least five men, all but one armored. The other looked to be a mage of the Black Robes.

  Twin black dragons meant General Cadrio, yet somehow Tyros doubted that the general had come to confer with his supposed ally. No, from what Tyros already knew of Valkyn and the sinister manner in which the dragons raced toward the castle, Cadrio had not come to visit but to conquer.

  The dragons circled the citadel, then quickly dived toward the courtyard. Tyros saw tiny figures leap off the moment one of the leviathans landed, then the beast returned to the air.

  Airborne gargoyles hovered about the heads of the dragons, trying to harass the invaders. One of the dragons unleashed a spray of acid, forcing the gargoyles to retreat. The two leviathans turned in opposite directions and then flew upward.

  One apparently grazed the tower above as it departed. Bits of mortar and rock began to rain down on the balcony.

  Tyros pulled Serene back inside. “Bakal and Rapp were supposed to head up there. I hope nothing’s happened to them.”

  “They’re likely prisoners at this point,” a blithe voice answered, “or they may be dead.”

  Valkyn stood at the doorway, wand held in his left hand like a sword. It still glowed, however faintly.

  The smile that Tyros had come to loathe spread as Valkyn went on. “I am as prepared for their mischief as I am for the dear general’s. I fear General Marcus Cadrio has been a terrible disappointment. I expected him to at least wait until Gwynned lay in ruins before trying once more to end our alliance. Well, I forgave him once, but his usefulness is at an end. His forces will still march on Gwynned, but under my command. Of course, I only need them to be on the field. Nothing else matters after that.”

  “And why is that?” Tyros had to ask.

  “Because that will draw out Gwynned’s forces, and I can then study the full effect of my creation in an actual battle. Norwych was interesting but far too easy a target. To fully understand the potential of Atriun, I need Gwynned.”

  Tyros’s eyes flickered to the wand, which seemed dimmer. He tried to stall Valkyn. “And then what happens? You conquer the rest of the world, Valkyn? Become the new emperor?”

  The goateed spellcaster smirked. “I suppose I’ll have to carve out some kingdom of my own, if only to allow myself the freedom for my experiments. I already have the plans in motion to create more citadels such as this one, citadels that, with a bit of work, will make even Atriun seem clumsy and pathetic.”

  Tyros recalled Leot. “But you will need more wizards, won’t you? Your foul device can’t function without them.”

  “Very good. Almost correct, just as you were almost correct in assuming that without your friend chained to it, Castle Atriun would lose its abilities.”

  The crystal on the wand had definitely grown dimmer. Tyros gripped his staff, ready to charge. Valkyn still no doubt had magic of his own, but how powerful would he be without his toy?

  “As you and others have already noted, Atriun is weakening, but it’s hardly ready to plummet to the earth.” Valkyn held up the wand, the crystalline sphere suddenly ablaze. He chuckled at Tyros’s disconcerted expression. “I’ve cast the spells so that the castle itself stores some of the magic, giving me a reserve.” The sinister smile grew wide. “And once you’re chained in your friend’s place, I shall be able to draw more power than ever.”

  He pointed the wand at Tyros.

  In desperation, Tyros raised the staff, already feeling his skin tingle. To his surprise, however, the tingling ceased and the piece of wood in his hands began to glow slightly of its own accord.

  For one of the few times the crimson mage could recall, Valkyn frowned. “You found that staff in my sanctum, didn’t you? Here I thought you’d managed to retrieve your own pathetic staff.” The elder wizard shrugged. “A temporary measure at best.”

  “Stop this!” Serene ran between them. “Valkyn, if you ever loved me, don’t harm him!”

  The dark mage pursed his lips. His brow furrowed. “No, I don’t think so.”

  Valkyn gave the wand a turn. Tyros felt the floor beneath him dissolve. His legs sank down to his knees.

  Tyros brought Valkyn’s staff down on the floor, trying to use the magical artifact to pull himself up. Instead, the staff sparked and the floor partially solidified, enabling the younger spellcaster to push himself free.

  His head began to throb. Even the use of the staff’s magical properties activated Valkyn’s dark curse.

  Serene seized the older wizard by the arms. “Don’t do this!”

  “I’m tired of your begging, my sweet serenity,” Valkyn said, almost sadly, “and since it seems that’s all you can do now, you should go elsewhere.”

  The cleric vanished, her mouth still open in protest.

  “What did you do to her?” Rage drove Tyros. Had Valkyn killed Serene?

  “She’s in another, more secure chamber, where she can mull over her indiscretions. Now, shall we put an end to this?”

  Valkyn reached out with one gloved hand, fingers spread wide. He began to make a fist, and as he did, bonds of pure shadow formed around Tyros, squeezing him as if he stood in his foe’s palm.

  The embattled wizard raised the staff, touching it to the shadowy fingers. This time, though, Valkyn’s tool did not save Tyros. Instead, the staff fell from his constricted grip, clattering to the floor. Tyros could barely breathe.

  “Much better,” murmured the ebony-clad figure. Blue eyes sparkled with amusement. “It might have been interesting to see what you would have done against me if not for my spell.”

  “You like experiments. Find out!”

  The castle shook. Valkyn spread his arms. “Alas, we have no time. Cadrio is making himself something of a nuisance, and I have an army to take control of.” The smile came again. “And you must now take on the role I’ve reserved for you, since as I understand it now, you escaped my gargoyles in Gwynned. Time, Tyros, to take your friend Leot’s place. I trust you’ll last a little longer.…”

  * * * * *

  The clouds had thinned.

  “Stand ready!” Captain Bakal ordered. This had to be the moment on which the gargoyle had been harping all this time. If Stone’s explanation made sense, then Tyros had accomplished at least some of his work, and now Bakal and his men had to begin their part.

  Stone had guide
d them to the stairs that led to the Wind Captain’s Chair but had left it in the humans’ hands from there. The gargoyle had said only that he had another task.

  No one met them for the first half of the climb, which surprised the scarred soldier. Where were all the guards? He had heard some commotion outside, but surely at least one of the robed creatures would have remained to protect this tower.

  Bakal looked around for the kender. “Rapp!”

  “I’m trying to keep up, Bakal, but these steps are big!”

  Despite his energy, the kender had fallen behind more than once, the high steps forcing the tiny figure to climb at twice the pace of the humans. That wouldn’t do. Bakal needed the kender up front, in case the entrance to the Wind Captain’s Chair was locked.

  “Frankel! Take the lead!” Bakal slowed, allowing the man to pass. The captain reached for Rapp, intending to carry the kender under his arm if necessary.

  Rapp reached for the officer’s outstretched hand, then looked past him, eyes wide. “Bakal! Behind you! He’s—”

  Captain Bakal turned, but it was too late. Frankel put his foot down on a seemingly chipped step, a step that suddenly glowed brightly.

  “Frankel! Get ba—”

  A flash of light enveloped the lead man. One second Frankel stood in front of them, arm raised to shield his eyes. The next second the light faded, and with it, the man. No sign of the soldier remained, not even his weapon.

  Magic. Black Valkyn’s magic. Bakal had yet to see the man, but he hated him. Twice now good soldiers who had taken the veteran’s place at the point had perished. Given the chance, Bakal would have been willing to pay with his life if only he could cut Valkyn to little ribbons and feed him to his pet gargoyles.

  “Probably poison all of ’em,” he muttered. The officer studied the next few steps. Determined not to risk his small party, he stretched his sword over the step where Frankel had perished. When nothing happened, Bakal reached up and gently tapped the next step. Still nothing.

  “From now on, each step gets tested first, and I stay at the point.” The veteran glanced at Rapp. “Keep behind me, with one step between us. Got it?”

  He studied the stairs again. If he was wrong, there would be no second chance. Taking a deep breath, the captain judged the distance over the trap and leaped up.

  Bakal landed squarely on the step above the trap. “All right,” he called, looking back. “Just keep your eye on me.”

  A roar shook the staircase, the entire building. Bakal had to fall against the wall or risk dropping back onto the deadly step. Bits of masonry pelted the soldiers.

  “What in the name of the gods was that?” someone shouted.

  “Sounded like a dragon!” came the reply.

  “Captain!” the first man called. “Gargoyles!”

  Two of the creatures flitted through windows near the top of the staircase. In their hands they carried nets similar to the ones used on the griffons. Bakal’s heart sank. In such tight quarters, the nets would prove extremely effective.

  “Gargoyles at the rear!” a soldier called.

  “We’ve been trapped!” the captain snarled. Bakal kept his sword pointed at the monsters above as he gingerly leaped over the trap again.

  “The gargoyle tricked us!” one of the others shouted. “He led us into this!”

  Bakal doubted that. If Stone had wanted to turn them over to Valkyn, he could have done it at any time. He had even risked his own life to free Tyros. No, somehow Valkyn had discovered their plan, which meant that Tyros, too, likely walked into a trap.

  More gargoyles entered from above, one of them with three horns and a malicious grin. The savage Crag.

  “Here come the nets!”

  The first net fell short; the second Bakal managed to shove aside with his blade. The gargoyles reached to retrieve their nets. Acting on instinct, Bakal used the sword to snag the nearest snare. Then, with his free hand, he pulled it toward him just as one of the monsters took hold of the other end.

  Caught off-balance, the leathery horror rolled over once, then landed awkwardly on the step that had claimed Frankel.

  The step glowed, and the flash of light enveloped the gargoyle.

  “Well, that’s one down,” murmured the officer as the light faded. He waited for the creatures to try again, but now they acted with more care.

  Someone bumped Bakal from behind. He looked over his shoulder. The gargoyles below pressed forward, the ones in front armed, much to the captain’s consternation, with spears. The captain and his men were being herded.

  The nets came at them, this time thrown with more precision. One landed over Bakal, who sliced at it desperately. He realized instantly why the griffons had been unable to rip their way free. The nets had been interlaced with metallic thread, making them difficult to tear or cut. Given enough time, Bakal could have freed himself, but the gargoyles would not permit him that.

  Cries broke out among his men. The gargoyles rushed in but instead of using their spears and claws, they began to pummel the soldiers with their fists. One man screamed, a sound that was quickly cut off. Bakal heard Rapp shout. He tried to look for the kender, but a huge hand seized the captain by the collar.

  Crag flashed the captain what could only be a mocking smile. The hardened veteran paled, expecting to have his throat ripped out, but instead Crag slapped him hard across the face.

  Still in the lead gargoyle’s grip, Bakal fell back, barely conscious from the vicious blow. He heard Crag’s deep, gravelly voice, sounding frustrated. “Kender! Where kender? Find kender!”

  So Rapp had escaped. Bakal took no pleasure from that, wondering, just before he blacked out from pain, what a lone kender could possibly do at this point. He already knew the answer.

  Nothing.

  Chapter 14

  The Power of Atriun

  The gargoyle had spoken the truth. Cadrio, helm on and visor down, had watched in anticipation as the last of the clouds broke up. The time had come. Murk and Eclipse, each burdened with five men, flew upward, beating their wings hard to make up for the added weight.

  He waited for Valkyn’s magic to bring them down, just as it had the gold and silver dragons, but no lightning struck, no wind tossed the black leviathans and their riders about. Only the gargoyles came to the citadel’s defense, and to Cadrio, they were little but flies. The dragons would deal with them. The twins were eager to prove their mastery of the sky over these tiny intruders.

  As for the gargoyles’ master, Valkyn had only two options: bow before Cadrio or get his head lopped off. Cadrio savored the second scenario, but still wanted to make certain that he had gleaned all the information he could from his arrogant ally first. Then, one way or the other, he would rid himself of Valkyn. The black wizard would ever be a danger while he lived.

  The dragons skirted around the flying citadel, seeking out any possible danger. Without the storm, though, it seemed that Atriun was nearly defenseless. Eclipse finally dropped to the courtyard so his riders could dismount. Rudolpho and the four soldiers leaped off, immediately seeking shelter.

  Cadrio, on Murk, leaned forward. “Go to the main doors of the castle! I want them burned away!”

  The massive black nodded. Given the honor of carrying the commander, Murk was determined to prove that he deserved the honor. He stretched his wings and began his descent.

  As they neared, Cadrio noticed that several of the gargoyles ignored the dragons entirely. They seemed more interested in some incident within the tower containing the Wind Captain’s Chair. Cadrio didn’t care what kept the defenders occupied, so long as it did not interfere with his plans.

  Murk alighted just before the tall doorway of Castle Atriun. The dragon positioned himself so that he faced the bolted entrance.

  “Best to dismount behind me!” Murk roared.

  The men slid down the length of the behemoth just as Murk inhaled. As the general’s boots touched the stone courtyard, the black dragon let forth with a hard blast of pur
e acid. The deadly torrent struck the great doors, completely scalding them. Even the dark stone around the frame sizzled and smoked.

  Despite his grand effort, Murk had failed to open the way. The doors had been damaged but not destroyed.

  “They’ve been treated with some protective substance!” Cadrio snarled. Whether it had been the work of the Solamnic Knight or Valkyn, the general did not care. He would brook no delays. “Do it again!”

  This time, Murk drew in as much air as he could, then unleashed a burning storm that ravaged Atriun’s entrance. The doors at last crumbled, the remnants smoking, pockmarked. Bits of the arched frame collapsed.

  “Return to the Harpy! Bring up the reinforcements!”

  The dragon nodded, leaping into the sky. Cadrio gathered Rudolpho and the others together, then made for the devastated doorway. A pair of gargoyles landed among them, one seizing the man next to the general. Cadrio wasted no time, thrusting his blade through the monster’s neck. As he pulled it free, another soldier helped the first man up.

  Rudolpho stood in front of the remaining creature, the black mage’s hand raised. The gargoyle froze in place, then toppled over like a statue. Rudolpho brought his foot down, shattering his petrified victim.

  “Save your magic!” the commander shouted. “You’ll need it for Valkyn!”

  As he said the other wizard’s name, thunder crashed.

  “By her infernal majesty!” The vulpine commander paused at the ruined entrance, peering up at a sky that had darkened so suddenly that his eyes needed a moment to adjust to the gloom. The wind picked up, blowing with such strength that the men could barely stand. Cadrio felt his skin burn where droplets of acid, flung up by the gusts, splattered against his cheek.

  “No …” he whispered. “Too soon! Too soon!”

  Eclipse had already flown off, but his brother could still be seen from the courtyard. Cadrio started to call the dragon to him, then noticed that Murk also struggled with the wind. Even as Cadrio watched, the black leviathan was pushed back toward Atriun.

  “Fly, you miserable wyvern! Fly!”