Giselle stood silently, her speech given and her plea finished.
No one moved.
"This is your last chance," Giselle warned.
Jase stood up, glancing to his left and right, seeming to take in all of the members of the Broken Spear.
Giselle looked at the young man, sadness in her heart. She smiled and offered him her hand. "May the world treat you well," she said. "No matter where your travels take you."
But Jase waved her off. "We're going with you," he said. "All of us. So you can save your speeches for after the battle has been won."
Giselle pulled her hand back. "Fair enough." She scanned the group for a particular face. "Curtis," she called.
The skinny man's face popped up between a pair of warriors. "Yes? That's me."
"You think you can get us up to the gates without being seen?"
The illusionist put his hand to his face, grabbing hold of his chin and scanning the sky. He changed hands, continuing to think. He seemed to be looking for something among the stars.
Giselle looked up, following his gaze. She didn't see anything but the early evening sky.
Finally Curtis nodded. "Yes. I think I have just the thing," he said, taking his hand from his chin and putting it inside his shirt. When his hand came out again it clutched a wrinkled, folded piece of paper. "Might hurt a bit," he said. He reached up and grabbed hold of his eyelid. Yanking out several of his eyelashes, he squinted, his eye watering. "But it'll work."
Giselle cringed. "Well then," she said, addressing the whole group. "You all know I'm not much for long drawn-out plans. If the guards open the doors for any reason, we hit them hard and fast. Agreed?"
As a group the Broken Spear nodded.
"All right. Let's go." Giselle stood up and led her warriors off toward the back entrance to Zerith Hold.
As they had so many times in the past few days, the double doors to the baron's sitting room burst open. Captain Beetlestone, accompanied by four elite guardsmen, came running in.
Baron Purdun, who had been eating his supper, leaped to his feet.
Liam and Knoblauch were already standing.
"My lord," started Beetlestone. He was out of breath. "The Crimson Awl is attacking the front gate."
Liam was gripped with a sudden fear. He was going to have to face those men-many of whom he had grown up with-in battle.
"There are also reports," continued Beetlestone, "that the villages surrounding Duhlnarim are under attack as well."
"By the Awl?" blurted Liam out of turn.
Knoblauch put his hand on Liam's shoulder, trying to calm him.
If Baron Purdun was upset by the outburst, he didn't show it. "By whom?" he asked.
"Undead, my lord," said Beetlestone. "Vampires are attacking the citizens of Ahlarkham."
The baron turned to Liam and Knoblauch. "I'm about to put both of you in harm's way," he said very matter-of-factly. Then he turned and headed for the door. "Captain Beetlestone, collect your men. Take them out of the rear gate and circle around to the front of Zerith Hold. I want you and your men to flank the Awl."
"Yes, my lord." The captain and his entourage left the room.
When Lord Purdun got to the double doors, he drew his saber from his hip. "We're going to the aid of the citizens," he said, looking back at Liam and Knoblauch. Then he turned and headed down the stairs. "And we're going out the front gate."
The half-giant bodyguards leaped up from their positions in the corners, striding quickly across the room and down the stairs after their lord.
Liam looked to Knoblauch.
"Guess that's it," Liam said.
Knoblauch sighed. "Yeah."
Then both men took off after the baron.
Lord Purdun knew the corridors of Zerith Hold so well that Liam and Knoblauch didn't catch up with him until he was walking out into the open air of the courtyard.
Liam stopped and looked out on the chaos before him. Everywhere there was shouting. Hundreds of flaming arrows sat lodged in the gravel at extreme angles, their shafts still flickering. More came zipping over the stone wall.
On top, behind the crenellations, men ran back and forth, firing down on the drawbridge, trading arrows with the archers outside the Hold. But it was what Liam saw inside the wall that made his jaw drop.
On the raised archer platform above the courtyard walked a beast of a man. He strode not around the soldiers between him and the front gate, but through them. This creature was more than a mere man, he was a force of darkness, and his very presence cast a pall over Zerith Hold.
Though he was no taller than a regular man, he was nearly twice as wide. But it wasn't his flesh that gave him this girth. It was a collection of jangling chains. They hung from his head and shoulders like matted, tangled dreadlocks. They wound around his chest like a cross-bowman's bandoleer. They dangled below his knees like an overlong chain mail tunic-but these were not links from an armorer's anvil. These were the chains meant to imprison criminals. And they were being used now to protect the man who had come to kill Baron Purdun.
"Ryder," whispered Liam, recognizing his brother.
As Liam, Knoblauch, and Baron Purdun watched, the chain-covered man rattled his way along the archer's platform, knocking soldiers off its edge with little more than the flick of his wrist.
Archers took aim at him and let fly, but their arrows seemed useless against such a man. The chains on his body danced and writhed like serpents. When an arrow approached, it was simply batted away or deflected by the shaking mass of dangling metal. Those men not defeated by the master of chains fled before him, as if they had seen an apparition or been ensorcelled with fear.
Ryder made his way to the mechanism that operated the portcullis and the big wooden door. Grabbing hold of the crank, he turned it. The portcullis began to lift, and the huge wooden doors swung partially open. The rain of flaming arrows showering the courtyard stopped, and from outside the men and women of the Crimson Awl squeezed through the now-breached front gate.
With the way open, Ryder turned from the crank and stood on the edge of the archer's platform, looking down into the courtyard. He raised his arms over his head, the links of his chains clanking together, seeming to move with his body as if they obeyed his thoughts.
"It is time the people got back that which has been taken from them," shouted Ryder. "In the name of the Crimson Awl and the innocent victims of Baron Purdun, I now claim Zerith Hold."
"The hell he does," said Purdun. "To the gate!"
A battle cry went up from the elite guards on the wall, and they followed their baron into the teeth of the monster.
Lord Purdun charged across the open ground, his hands lighting up like miniature balls of lightning. His half-giant guards paced right along beside him, silently following the baron into the fray.
Liam watched as one of them reached under its cloak and produced a pair of wicked-looking greataxes. The steel of their blades was so dark it looked black in the flickering glow of the torches and flaming arrows. Each axe would have easily taken a normal man both hands to handle, but the half-giant wielded one in each.
As they closed in on the first of the Crimson Awl, the other half-giants followed suit, pulling out axes of their own. The four of them shifted side to side, cutting down the incoming invaders as if they were shafts of wheat.
Liam took a deep breath, steeled himself, and charged into the fight as well, Knoblauch beside him. They came down the steps, only a step behind their lord. And in a moment they were embroiled in the largest battle ever to take place inside the walls of Zerith Hold.