Renn brushed more snow away to expose the dead man’s chest armor. He sat back, disturbed. “That flame symbol. This man definitely belonged to the army of Iron Fang, just as the scouts thought.”
“Emperor Kurgan,” Verna said. “I have read the histories.”
“The histories don’t tell the entire story, because the great General Utros brought an army of hundreds of thousands of soldiers to lay siege to Ildakar.” Renn poked the leather armor. “As I’ve told you, our great wizards turned them all to stone with a petrification spell, but something must have awakened them.” He ran his fingers along his patchy beard. He had not shaved since they departed from Cliffwall, claiming that the whiskers would keep his face warmer. “Maybe only this part of the army came back to life and marched away from Ildakar to seek some other home in the mountains.”
“And we killed them all,” Amber said, sounding shaken. “We don’t even know if they were an enemy.”
“They were,” General Zimmer said, looking down at the fallen soldier. “Ten thousand soldiers could not have been on a peaceful mission.” He shook his head again, looking at the jumbled field in the aftermath of the avalanche.
Working her way up among the blocks of ice, wading through the loose snow, Verna came upon another half-buried figure, and she was startled when he stirred, groaned. “This one is alive! Dear spirits.”
She brushed snow from the warrior’s face, saw his expression wrenched with pain, his grayish skin smashed and leaking blood. He coughed. Verna knelt, helping to pull the body out of the snow as Renn and General Zimmer hurried closer. The ancient soldier’s eyes were glazed.
“Should we help him?” Peretta asked. “Your gift can heal him, Prelate.”
“He could tell us information,” Zimmer said.
Verna could sense the man’s terrible injuries, his smashed bones and crushed internal organs. The soldier groaned, and she was astonished he remained alive at all.
She looked at his square features, his eyes squeezed shut, the grimace on his face. She released enough energy to revive him. “He is … strange inside.” She shook her head slightly. “He does not have long.”
General Zimmer leaned close. “Who is your commander? What is your mission?”
The soldier coughed, and looked around, saw the prelate and the others bending over him, the unfamiliar uniforms of the D’Haran army.
“General Utros,” the soldier said. “We serve Utros, in the name of Emperor Kurgan. We will conquer all the lands of the Old World.”
Renn looked at the others nearby as his face went as pale as the dying soldier’s. His voice grew urgent. “You were at Ildakar. Your army was stone. I saw it myself! How did the spell fade? What happened? Why were you marching?”
“We awakened. Utros will bring down Ildakar and we will also overwhelm the rest of the world. It is … our mission.”
“Where is the rest of the army?” Renn demanded, sounding more distraught. “This is just a small fraction of the general’s forces at Ildakar.”
“We were marching…” The soldier stirred, but could not free himself from the snow packed around his lower body. “Other armies are marching, like this one. We will conquer whatever we find.” His stiff face twisted into a pain-racked smile. “But the bulk of our army is still at Ildakar, to bring down the city.”
Renn’s face reddened. “Ildakar will never fall!”
The soldier choked out a laugh, which made blood spill from the side of his mouth. Verna felt her ability to keep the man alive dwindling away into the chill of the snowfield, but an angry Renn gestured, releasing his own gift, and a crack pushed down on the warrior’s ribs and breastbone, snapping the fragile body. The soldier shuddered, then lay still.
Renn looked ill.
General Utros looked at Verna with a stormy expression. “As I thought, this was an invasion force, and if there are many more just like it marching across the Old World, we already have a war on our hands.”
Amber stared down at the dead soldier. “But why? We don’t even know them. Why do they want to conquer the world?”
Verna felt sorry for the innocent girl. After her centuries among the Sisters of the Light, the prelate was accustomed to misery. She had taught young wizards to control their gift, lessons that often required a great deal of pain and effort. She had seen incredible death and destruction when Emperor Jagang and his Imperial Order came through Tanimura. She had faced many terrible battles herself, including the heartbreaking fight that cost the life of her beloved Warren. Yes, she had seen death aplenty.
The fresh-faced young novice, though, was new to the violence the world could deliver. Her brother, Norcross, had seen bloodshed in the last war, but he was also very young. Verna knew, sadly, that violence and killing would age even an innocent young person far too soon.
Zimmer called his soldiers together, designating two of his best scouts. “I am dispatching you back to Cliffwall immediately. Tell them what we just learned and make sure they are prepared. Our soldiers are facing a much greater threat than we thought.”
“It is not just Cliffwall, but the whole Old World,” Verna said.
Renn’s face was florid. “But the biggest threat stands against Ildakar, and that makes our mission more important than ever.” He brushed snow from his soggy robes and glanced urgently over at Captain Trevor. “There’s nothing more to see here. We know what we did. Now, we should go back to our city as quickly as possible.”
Verna saw the strain on his face. “Renn is correct, General. Have your scouts find the best way out of these mountains and on our way to Ildakar. Once we join forces with Nicci and Nathan, that should give the ancient army something to worry about.”
CHAPTER 64
Out on the battlefield, the great gray dragon bowed, snared by the magic of Ava and Ruva, but he did not look defeated.
Utros felt more awe than fear. Brom’s enormous eyes flared, his wings arched upward in defiance. His growling exhale sent scorching wafts of brimstone and smoke toward the general, but Utros held the bond within him. He touched the burnished gold half mask to remind himself of the price he had already paid. “I need you to fight for me. My emperor commands it.”
The dragon’s voice was blunted by pain, but still exuded a clear threat. “You do not command me, human.”
Ava and Ruva interlocked their fingers and joined their magic. Brom curled his head back as agony exploded inside his skull. He let out another roar.
“I do command you,” Utros said calmly. “I need a weapon to defeat that city. Nothing is more powerful than a dragon.”
Brom lurched back on his haunches. “I do not care about your petty wars. I am the guardian of Kuloth Vale, and I must return to my sacred duty.” He flapped his wings, two huge strokes that lifted his reptilian body partly off the ground.
Utros called on the bond again. “No, you will destroy the city, defeat my enemies, and break this siege. I don’t care where you go after that, but first you must obey me. Grant me my victory.”
Brom loomed over the ancient general. “I am a scholar dragon. I know lore from thousands of years. I know the bones of my ancestors, and I guard their resting place. I am no one’s weapon.”
“You’re a dragon!” Utros said. “Fly to Ildakar, unleash your fire. Terrify the people, knock down the towers and walls. Do that, and then you can go free.”
Without waiting for the gray dragon to reply, the sorceresses worked their magic once more and hurled spears of pain into his chest.
Brom spewed fire into the sky. Snarling with frustration and anger, the dragon launched himself into the air and flew toward Ildakar.