Amber stared across the valley toward the glaciers clinging to the black rocky slopes. “What is that over there? It looks like people—lots of people.”
Oliver shaded his eyes, squinting, but his expression remained blank. He shook his head. “I can’t tell.”
Verna and Zimmer tried to discern what the young novice’s sharp eyes had spotted. “I see it now. It looks like a significant force of troops at the base of the cliffs on the next ridge. It’s a huge camp, but where are their tents? Their campfires?”
Beside her, Peretta squinted. “It’s thousands of people, maybe as many as ten thousand, like a whole moving city.”
“Not a city,” Zimmer said. “An army.”
After dismounting, Renn stood in his maroon wizard’s robes, hands on his hips. The wind blew his hair. “But where would such a military force come from? Even Ildakar doesn’t have an army that size.”
Captain Trevor looked pale and uneasy. “That is the direction we have to go. How will we get past them?”
“Maybe they’re friendly,” Amber said.
“An army of many thousands is not likely to be friendly,” Zimmer said.
“The only giant army near Ildakar was turned to stone,” said Renn. “And they couldn’t possibly…” His voice trailed off.
Trevor also looked concerned. “Where else would they come from?”
“We have to know.” Zimmer blew cold air through his lips. “Right now, we’d best remain hidden. Our force isn’t large, but we are exposed up here on the pass. We need to get into the trees. Alas, we can’t build campfires tonight, because they might be spotted.”
Verna continued to stare, disturbed. “Whoever it is, they’re marching in the general direction of Cliffwall.”
Shaken by what they’d seen, the expedition hurried down off the exposed pass, painstakingly picking their way down the stony slope. Riders in the lead had identified the best way to get into the shelter of the trees below. When they reached the forest cover in the last glow of twilight, the soldiers spread out to set up a rudimentary camp. Renn looked forlornly at the plentiful fallen wood, but no one built a warm, cheery fire. Verna, however, assigned several Cliffwall scholars the task of using magic to boil water so they could at least make hot soup or tea. The Sisters also generated heat to warm rocks, which made the camp much more comfortable.
General Zimmer met with several of his best D’Haran scouts. “We need to know what that army is. Their camp is large, but not permanent, so they haven’t been there long. I want some answers before they begin to move again. A force that size will take some time to pack up and set off.”
Trevor seemed anxious. “Let one of my people accompany your scouts. If they travel under cover of darkness, they could get close enough for a good view. My men might recognize those soldiers, if they did come from Ildakar.”
Zimmer agreed and dispatched three men into the deepening dusk to investigate the unexpected army.
Verna sat next to the general on a fallen log. “It will take hours for them to bring back a report. We should get some rest in the meantime. It’s going to be a long night.”
Shortly before dawn, the three scouts returned, their faces scratched from branches. They had made their way around the curve of the hanging valley to the edge of the encamped army, where they had indeed gotten a good view.
“We saw thousands of armed warriors, General,” the first man reported. “I don’t know how to explain it. They have no campfires, blankets, tents, or food that we could see. They are simply on the move, thousands of them, but they stopped for the night. The terrain is too rugged to cross in the darkness.”
The second scout said, “And their armor looks ancient. Some of them bear standards with a flame symbol on it.”
“It is the mark of Emperor Kurgan,” said the Ildakaran guard who had accompanied them. He sounded certain. “I have seen it before on the petrified army outside of our city.”
“We saw two of their sentries as they passed close to us on patrol,” said the first scout. “They moved sluggishly, and they were not very alert.” He glanced at Verna, then back to his commander. “General, sir, their skin was grayish, like stone.”
Renn and Captain Trevor looked appalled. “I was afraid of this,” the wizard groaned. “By the Keeper’s beard, it’s the ancient army, the soldiers of General Utros. They are somehow awake and on the move.”
Verna heard the news with a chill. “And they are marching toward Cliffwall.”
CHAPTER 49
The Norukai serpent ships were at last ready, and King Grieve felt the hot blood singing in his veins. Each day his people moved with energy and determination as they made preparations for war. Their voices grew louder as they shouted boasts and pounded drums. Grieve had seen it before. The Norukai called it raiding fever, but this would be more than just a raid.
Accompanied by his pale and shivering shaman, the king went down to the harbor and watched all the serpent ships sail in from outlying islands. He had gathered a navy of truly breathtaking scope. In addition to the forty ships they already used in their depredations, another fifty new war vessels had been completed by the island shipwrights, and dozens more were under construction. When his fleet set off to conquer Ildakar, it would be remembered as the greatest raid in Norukai history, one that would give his people a whole continent to squeeze.
The disgraced captains Kor and Lars would each have ten ships of their own to crush and conquer the large coastal cities. The world was about to feel the strong Norukai fist.
Out in the open water beyond the main island, his warships waited. Long oars protruded from the hulls, and the muscular crew pulled, guiding the serpent ships through the dangerous labyrinth of reefs. The vessels were well supplied already, and they would find towns to raid and provisions to seize along the way, until his fleet reached the estuary and sailed up the Killraven River to seize Ildakar.
Ready to embark on their suicidal missions, Kor and Lars had gathered the surviving members of their defeated crews and encouraged volunteers to join them. Their raiders were an unruly lot, mostly Norukai who had committed crimes and wanted to purge their sentences; others had huge gambling debts. When Kor and Lars put out the call for fighters, Grieve announced that anyone who joined the expeditions could erase everything with their own blood. The crimes would not be forgotten, but the Norukai would regain their honor. They would kill, pillage, and destroy until such time as they themselves fell in battle. If they did conquer the world for King Grieve, then all would be forgiven.
From the harbor, he looked back up the slick, sheer cliffs dotted with moss to the walls of the looming Bastion. That was his ancestral home, where he had ruled for years, where his father had lived and died, and where so many other Norukai kings had ruled. Grieve realized he might never return here if Ildakar was all Kor said it was, but he also knew that the king of the world could not be isolated on an island.
Before the separate fleets could launch, however, important sacrifices needed to be made. The Norukai knew how to guarantee victory.
Squat Norukai women stood together at the rim of a drum five feet across, pounding with clubs on the stretched skin of a scaly serpent. The drums boomed out, echoing along the cliffs and shuddering in the water, louder even than the waves crashing against the black rocks. Around the corner of the harbor cliffs, a second group of summoners clanged on the cylindrical iron bells that dangled on chains from the rock walls.