“Your orders, my lord?” asked one of Zorlan’s generals.
“See to it that men are posted around the city,” he said. “I want to know if anything changes inside those walls.”
“Aye, my lord.”
“And see to it that everyone has rations. We shall celebrate our victory soon. There’s no need to keep the men waiting.”
“I shall make it so, my liege.”
The general bowed and hurried away.
“Ale,” Zorlan bellowed. He was watching the northern gate of the city. A large canvas awning had been erected and he was sitting on a raised platform under it. He preferred wine, but in the stifling heat he couldn’t bring himself to drink wine. The ale was cooler and more refreshing. A cup was brought and King Zorlan took it without a word of thanks or even a nod of appreciation.
He couldn’t believe his good fortune. Osla was the wealthiest of all the kingdoms, and now it was practically undefended. For years Zorlan had dreamed of expanding his empire, but breaking three centuries of peace between the Five Kingdoms was not a matter to take lightly. When King Oveer and King Belphan had pressured him to join their quest, he had pretended to be uncertain. It was not a difficult act to play, since he feared the other kings and their wizard. But now war had begun, and as luck would have it, Zorlan had come out on top. He’d seen King Belphan struck down by the master of the Torr, but the wizard had not been seen or heard from since. And now fully half of King Oveer’s army was destroyed. Even if the rumor of Oveer’s death wasn’t true, Zorlan was still in a position to dominate a third kingdom and expand his power.
But if the rumor were true… he thought to himself, unable to hide the smile that thought brought to his face. If it were true, he would rule three of the Five Kingdoms. And, once he had a firm grasp on the southern kingdoms, he would turn his attention north.
He had been mocked and easily dismissed in the high court. He had been a pawn during every Council of Kings. The other rulers had seen him as weak, fearful, and indecisive. But now he had risen to the top. His true quality was revealing itself and his good fortune had given the King of Falxis confidence.
“Sound the horns,” he commanded.
“What for, my lord?” asked the general, who was watching the activity of the army as they spread out around the city.
The mobilization of nearly four legions of troops around the largest walled city in the Five Kingdoms would take time, but those orders had been delivered, and other than attack or retreat, the war horns were rarely used.
“I want to strike fear into the hearts of the men on those walls. I want to announce their doom. Now sound the horns!” Zorlan said irritably.
Dust from the troops spreading out around the city was rising into the air. The horns sounded their deep, braying notes. The sound rolled out and echoed off the city walls. King Zorlan could see the soldiers on the walls running back and forth as they prepared for what they assumed would be an imminent attack. He smiled once again, knowing that he planned no action until the following day. Then he would ride out with his generals and request a parley with this queen of theirs. Prince Wilam had said that she was sequestered in the tower of the Torr, but Zorlan would draw her out and give his assassins the opportunity to strike.
It was a genius plan, he thought; simple, yet sophisticated. And once the witch was dead, he would offer the soldiers in the city a chance to return home in peace as long as they pledged their loyalty to him. It was simple choice, really-if they stayed, they would starve or die by the sword. His offer would allow them to return to homes and family. And if King Oveer lived, he would swear fealty to Zorlan or die. Either way, the whole of three kingdoms would soon be his alone.
“Sire,” said one of the generals who was sheltering under King Zorlan’s tent. “What is that?”
Zorlan looked up, and for the first the time in weeks fear erupted in his heart. He had seen the black dragon in Yelsia-the beast was unmistakable.
“The Torr,” he hissed. “That is the wizard’s dragon.”
Chapter 27
Zollin had healed broken bones, stab wounds, and even burns, but he had never encountered the total destruction of a man’s legs like Prince Wilam’s. It was as if whoever had tortured him knew where every bundle of nerves lay so that they caused the maximum amount of pain without risking his life. It took hours to repair the damage. The swelling was so intense Zollin was forced to reopen wounds to let the blood drain.
It was fully dark by the time Zollin finished, and Prince Wilam was still unconscious. The tortured prince was pale, his skin glistening with a sheen of sweat. Brianna had spent the day beside Zollin, offering him wine when he took breaks. She had prepared a simple meal for them when he finished, and had unbuckled the prince’s leg manacles. The bruising and swelling was gone. Zollin didn’t have Wilam’s toenails to replace, so the prince’s feet would be tender until the nails regrew. Brianna gave Zollin his supper and then began bathing the prince with a cool, wet cloth.
“Will he be okay?” she asked.
“Physically yes,” Zollin said. “Although I can’t imagine what that kind of torture would do to a man. He may be completely insane-I don’t know. We’ll have to wait and see.”
“How are you?”
“Tired, but okay,” he said, smiling up at her. “Did the dragons feed?”
“No, they’re waiting until tonight. I didn’t want them to be spotted in the air.”
“That’s a good idea,” Zollin said. “I don’t want to give away our position too soon, but I’m curious as to what is happening in the Grand City. Have the dragons been called by Offendorl again?”
“No,” Brianna said. “I wish I had hurt him more when I had the chance.”
“He’s dangerous. I know you can take care of yourself, but I don’t want you anywhere near him.”
“Well, I can send one of the dragons to check on the Grand City after they return from hunting. They slept all afternoon, they’ll be fine.”
“Dragons are amazing creatures,” Zollin said. “I can’t believe you made them.”
“I’m one of them,” Brianna said. “I don’t know how, but I feel a connection to them.”
“I’m not surprised. You don’t just have amazing abilities-your anatomy has changed.”
“My what?” she asked teasingly.
“You know what I mean.”
“Are you saying you don’t find me attractive anymore?” she said, moving closer.
“No, not at all,” Zollin said with a smile. “If anything, I think you’re more beautiful than ever. I wouldn’t change a thing about you.”
“Maybe I should give you two some privacy,” said a weak, scratchy voice.
“Oh, you’re awake?” Brianna said in surprise.
“Yes, but I wasn’t sure who you were,” Prince Wilam said. “I was eavesdropping, I’m afraid. What’s all this talk of dragons?”
“My name is Zollin. I’m a wizard from Yelsia.”
“Yes, I suspected you might be. You did something to me?”
“I healed your wounds,” Zollin explained. “We found you earlier today.”
“Were you looking for me?”
“To be honest, we’re not even sure who you are.”
“I’m Prince Wilam of Yelsia, although I don’t deserve that title, not anymore.”
“Are you referring to your actions under the influence of the witch?” Zollin asked. “We’ve had some experience with that. You can’t blame yourself for what you did while you were under her spell.”
“I am the crown prince of Yelsia-I should be held to a higher standard.”
“Be that as it may,” Zollin said, “we still have to stop Gwendolyn. Why don’t you reserve judgment until she can no longer use her power to bewitch others?”
“You’re right,” Wilam said. “I must stop her. Although I’ll admit I’m not sure how I can do that. I don’t think any man can withstand her charms.”