“Why, everyone knows that, sir,” said Boyle, indignant.
The twin sorceresses quivered like serpents preparing to strike. Utros said, “If we knew the answer, we wouldn’t need to question you. Speak!”
“Why, sir, when the army of General Utros came to lay siege to the city, the wizards of Ildakar worked a powerful spell to turn them all to stone,” said Irma.
“After that,” Boyle continued, “the wizards knew that Ildakar would keep being a target for outsiders, so they worked more magic and swept away the entire city for more than a thousand years. Only in the past couple of decades did the magic fade. The city reappeared after all that time, so we started selling them our meat and pelts again.”
“Then why did my army awaken just yesterday?” Utros asked.
Boyle and Irma were confused. Their mouths opened and closed, but no answers came forth. They looked at each other, and Utros saw an undercurrent of caring and mutual protection flash between them. That was a weapon he could use.
“We’ve been up in the hills. We didn’t even know you were awake, until your soldiers captured us. Always before, we just saw the statues,” Boyle said. “That’s all.”
The general did not expect subtle explanations of magic from these two. “Tell us where to find Stravera and also describe the other cities in the area. As herders, you must know where they are.”
“We know of a few,” Irma said, “but I’ve never been farther than Stravera or down here to Ildakar, not in all my life.”
“Our two sons live in Stravera,” Boyle said. “Why would we need to go farther? The yaxen have all the pasturage they need.”
Utros didn’t think they were lying, but, to be sure, he asked the questions again, pressing for more details.
Because he sensed their vulnerability, he had Enoch snap Irma’s two little fingers, a brittle hollow-branch sound that was much more delicate than her shrill wail of pain. Boyle babbled and repeated his information, and the threat of breaking more of his wife’s fingers finally elicited the names of four more mountain and river towns that Boyle had heard of, but never visited.
“Thank you,” the general finally said, looking at the sobbing old woman, the ashen and wrung-out man. “You have been most helpful.” He turned to the two sorceresses. “Do you think they’ve divulged everything they know?”
Irma cried, “We have, my lord!”
“I assure you, General! I swear!” Boyle insisted.
“Very well. I believe you.” He nodded, and Ava and Ruva glided close to the two terrified yaxen herders.
“Can we … can we go now?” Boyle stammered. “We’re worth nothing to you as prisoners. No one will ransom us.”
“We’re nobodies,” Irma insisted, holding up her mangled hands. Her broken fingers drooped.
The sorceresses caressed the air around them in strange gestures, circling the two whimpering captives like hungry wolves. “You’ve given all you can,” Ava said in a soothing voice. “You no longer need to take up space in this world.”
Ruva leaned closer, drawing upon her gift. The twins were linked, their gestures in a perfectly symmetrical synchronicity. “Fold yourself up now, so we can put you away.”
Boyle and Irma twisted and jerked, not comprehending what was happening. Against their volition, their arms bent upward, pressing flat against their chests. They leaned over at the waist, bending at an impossible angle until their vertebrae cracked like brittle branches.
Boyle screamed as he bent his legs at the knees and then bent again in the middle of his femurs, breaking himself, folding down. His shoulders cracked and crunched, collapsing in like a wilting flower. Beside him, Irma continued to fold herself again and again. Like old blankets, the two human forms were creased and then folded, then folded repeatedly into a smaller and smaller package. Finally, their necks snapped and the screaming stopped. But the pop and crack of breaking bones continued as the two layered themselves into compact packages of dense, dripping flesh on the floor of the headquarters. The entire process took several noisy minutes.
“You may remove them,” General Utros said to Enoch. “Call me when the herd of yaxen is brought in. Tonight, we’ll have our first feast since awakening.”
All fifty of the shaggy animals were slaughtered at the edge of the camp. Because supplies would be lean for some time, the butchers were careful to save all the blood, to strip off the hides, to keep the offal, the bones, anything that might be useful. The pelts could be used for blankets or tent walls, the sinews dried as lines, the guts made into bowstrings, everything else boiled into large vats of soup.
The meat was roasted on huge bonfires, and although there wasn’t nearly enough to feed thousands of troops, Utros divided the feast among his top-level commanders and their lieutenants. The fifty yaxen provided enough meat to feed more than a thousand when judiciously rationed. Utros had made up his mind to take no more than the others.
He stood before the bonfire, inhaling the savory smells of haunches and joints searing over the flames. Meat juices dripped into the embers. The commanders pressed forward to be served.
Because of the tension and confusion, as well as the rigorous work he had to do, Utros had driven away all thoughts of food for more than a day, but he knew he had to have nourishment. He accepted a small serving of the fresh meat and made sure Ava and Ruva were also fed.
Feeling the heat of the large fire, even with dulled senses, he stood next to the twins and First Commander Enoch. They all took bites of the steaming meat, but the food felt oddly leaden in Utros’s mouth. He had often relished rare, dripping meat fresh from the hunt. He’d eaten countless meals of game cooked over a fire.
Now, though, he felt queasy. When he tried to swallow, his body rebelled. He didn’t want to eat. He couldn’t taste the meat. He felt sickened, and saw that his other commanders had the same reaction. One man even spat out his first mouthful, looking confused and embarrassed.
Enoch said, “Maybe you should give my serving to some of the men, General. I … I’m not hungry.”
Utros realized that neither was he. Genuinely perplexed, he looked around, saw that no one was eating the meat. All the slaughtered carcasses would go to waste. More details circulated in his head as he tried to understand, pieces fitting into place, even though they made no sense. He remembered no one drinking the water, no one using the latrines. Many supplies had gone untouched, though they were available to the soldiers.
His body craved no nourishment. The stone spell had preserved him for centuries, and it had not entirely let go. He stared toward Ildakar as the realization dawned on him. He dumped his meat on the ground and felt nothing. The others grew alarmed as they came to the same conclusion.
Utros smiled, understanding what an enormous blessing he had just discovered.
Maybe he wouldn’t need to feed his giant army after all.
CHAPTER 7
Bannon felt uneasy when he and Lila returned to the fighting pits near the combat arena. The place held only terrible memories for him, but that was where the hundreds of seasoned warriors wanted to gather. That was where they felt at home, where they had learned to fight for the entertainment of the people of Ildakar. Now they had to defend the city that had enslaved them. Everyone could see the enormous military force outside.
Bannon had rested after the night of the uprising, but he couldn’t relax. The city was under siege and he, too, might have to fight for Ildakar, a place he had never dreamed of calling his own. The awakened stone army filled the plain, and for three days now they had battered the walls, with little effect. General Utros had sent no ultimatum, no emissary, but Ildakar needed to be ready.