"Easy? You mean boring," growled Khisanth, struggling to her feet. "Let's go."
Standing almost reluctantly, Jahet took wing mere heart shy;beats after Khisanth. The two of them made an impressive sight, gliding effortlessly, enormous shadows skimming the land beneath. The highlord had stopped the procession in a small gully on the spine of a neighboring bluff. They dropped within a length of Maldeev. "We attack immediately, while there's still a chance for
surprise," the dragon highlord was saying.
"There is that school of thought, Highlord," Salah Khan said diplomatically. His voice was muffled by the black wrapping around his head. "There are also those who believe that surprising the enemy at any cost is unwise, particularly in a battle of this size, when we so outnumber the enemy. If this were a small ambush, then, perhaps …"
"Ogres bushed," Volg cut in rudely. He'd stomped his way to the front ranks after the procession halted.
Horak, too, had ridden up from his position back with the draconians. Beads of sweat glistened on the brow of the newest of Maldeev's officers, curling his copper hair into tight ringlets. He'd heard Volg's comment and was twisting his red mustache confidently when he said, "My draconians are ready to follow you instantly, Highlord. Unlike the other, uh, soldiers," he stumbled with a pointed look at Volg, "they need little sleep or food."
Volg scowled. "Darkness come!" He pointed a warty fin shy;ger to the east before adding slyly, "Ogres see fine, but humans not."
"There's another very real problem, Sir," interrupted Khan, getting his first good look down the slope toward the citadel known as Lamesh. "No one mentioned a moat." His eyes, the only things visible in his face wrap, suddenly nar shy;rowed with surprise and concern. "It would appear that the moat feeds a waterfall over a cliff, as well. If 11 be much more difficult to breach than our plans have allowed."
Maldeev looked with irritation at his number two dragon, the only one among them to have seen Lamesh. "Well, Khi-santh? Didn't you notice these things?"
"Yes," she said without guilt. "I reported that they were digging a trench at least two fortnights ago. In itself a trench would not change the method of attack. However, the water is a new development." She gave Maldeev a wry look. "Per shy;haps they've been expecting us."
"We'll wait until morning!" snapped the dragon highlord. Spurring his horse, Maldeev cantered off and stopped a short distance away to gather his thoughts alone.
Maldeev's advisors would all have been surprised to learn that their highlord had actually made the decision to delay the attack after Horak's pandering. Not that the highlord was immune to bootlicking. Actually, it was one of his favorite benefits of rank.
The problem was Horak. The very capable human com shy;mander didn't know he was the least trusted of Maldeev's officers, even placing behind the vulgar ogre, Volg, solely because he'd been under Ariakas's command.
Nourished by Horak himself on his first day at Lamesh, Maldeev's hatred of the Red Wing commander had swelled, running so deep and silent, like the roots of a fast-growing willow, that even Jahet could not guess its full measure. Mal shy;deev would take Ariakas's leavings and turn them to gold for the greater glory of himself.
He was Takhisis's chosen.
Maldeev would seize every opportunity, take any chance, to align himself more closely with the Queen of Darkness.
"Orders, Highlord?" Khan cut into his thoughts.
Maldeev shook away his preoccupation and whistled for Jahet. "Tell your dragons to refrain from flying and move on foot into the forest to the west. The rest of the wing will fol shy;low." Jahet nodded and backed away to do her highlord's bidding, pulling Khisanth along with a glance toward Lhode and Shadow at the back of the ranks.
Turning to the other commanders, Maldeev continued. "In this battle, my greatest concern is to prevent any of the knights, their men, or their people from escaping. We will certainly have lost all chance for surprise by tomorrow morn shy;ing. To stop escapes tonight, I want detachments to set up overlooking the fortress and the town. Humans will watch while it's light, to be replaced by ogres and draconians dur shy;ing darkness."
That settled, Maldeev lifted his pike and directed his horse to pick its way down the bluff to the west, following after the dragons.
Tate lowered the spyglass from his eye. He knew the Black Wing would come to Lamesh Castle. The knight hadn't been surprised by the news from the sentry. He'd just hoped it wouldn't be so soon. It was too soon___The reinforcements
Tate was expecting from Solamnia hadn't arrived yet. Soon they might not need to, Tate thought grimly, feeling an unusual defeatism. The rain wouldn't help matters, either.
Standing on the southern battlements, the Knight of the Crown snapped the glass back up to his right eye. He wiped a raindrop from the cloudy lens. The view through it was not much closer than seeing with the naked eye. Tate used the glass because it had been Wolter's.
He saw no dragons. He should be able to see the enormous black creatures, even without the spyglass. Yet, Tate could identify only officers, a vast number of humans and ogres, and then some other strange creatures for which Tate had no name. An attack didn't appear to be imminent, since the black army was bivouacking.
Still, he would have little time to mount a defense. Tate slipped the brass cylinder into a loop on his belt and then turned to leave. He stopped short, not quite sure where to go first. Sir Wolter would have known. Tate rubbed his face wearily, glad his men were too preoccupied assembling arms and equipment to notice his indecision.
Nothing had been the same for Tate since Sir Wolter Hed-ing, his sponsor and friend-his father, for all purposes- was slain in the ill-fated attack on Shalimsha. Lamesh Castle's lord knight seemed to have only two moods these past months: anger and shame. Tate had been so sure Kiri-Jolith approved of the plan. Wolter had advised against it. It was the only time Tate had ignored Sir Wolter's advice.
That was the greatest part of his shame, which Tate would have admitted only to Wolter. Tate knew men died in battle. He'd witnessed the gruesome deaths of Sir Stippling's party. The knight had just never given thought to its happening specifically because of him. Not to Wolter, anyway. By virtue of his wisdom Wolter always seemed to rise above such earthly concerns. Wolter would have been telling stories at hearthside in Solamnia, if not for Tate.
The young knight's anger always focused on the black dragon whose last strike at Tate had ended Wolter's life. Something about her had been hauntingly familiar. Her odd necklace had struck an uneasy chord in his memory that the knight was still unable to identify.
Shaking away the unsettling reflection, the lord knight looked upon the new moat with a glimmer of satisfaction. Anticipating a counterattack, he'd had the foresight to dig the trench and fill it, despite the muttered protests of the workers. Tate had devoted a great percentage of his man shy;power to accomplishing it so quickly, but too soon it would prove its worth in a land-based attack. Unfortunately, it would do nothing to stop the dragons he was certain must be lying in wait somewhere. That he couldn't see them only made him more apprehensive about what they were plan shy;ning. He was only slightly mollified to remember that when the dragons entered the battle, he was at least prepared now to fight them on their own level. The knight made a mental note to feed his own winged creatures, which he'd been care shy;ful to keep out of sight of spies the Black Wing might have sent north.