Serene began to strum the air, at first hearing nothing. Yet when she started to sing softly, tender notes accompanied her. As her voice found strength, those notes increased in strength, too. The woodland god was with her … so far.
The cleric turned her gaze to the baleful storm and sang louder.
* * * * *
“Hold your ranks, damn it!” Zander roared as the first missiles struck. “Hold them together!”
The officers did their best to keep the lines intact and in position, but the wizard’s primitive battle plan kept the frontlines too much in the open and too large a target. Zander would have realigned most of the left flank, but any alteration had been forbidden. He had to make do with what Valkyn allowed, however murderous that turned out to be.
“Can we fly now?” Eclipse snapped. “They come too close!”
For once, Zander had to agree with him. “All right. Take to the air!”
With clear relief, the black leviathan leaped into the sky, nearly unseating Zander from his back in the process. The young officer made no remark, though, more interested in what happened below. From the sky, the situation looked more bleak than he had thought. Gwynned’s forces had arranged themselves to the best tactical advantage, with catapults positioned on well-defended hills that gave them a view of his entire army. Archers set lower down on the hills made certain that those who avoided the missiles ran straight into their deadly fire, after which cavalry harassed the survivors. Zander’s men were open targets no matter where they were, and it was a wonder he had managed to keep them from routing. It looked like certain victory for the Ergothians.
Thunder rumbled, causing Zander to smile for the first time. Certain victory … if not for the flying citadel.
Those manning the two catapults situated on a hill to the southwest likely never knew what hit them. The first bolt, a massive, jagged monster, flew unerringly toward its unwitting target. One moment, the men and their weapons stood untouched. The next … nothing but shattered bits and smoke remained.
Zander laughed, admiring the mage’s handiwork. Eclipse joined in the mirth, ever pleased to see others suffer.
“We attack?” the dragon cried.
“No, we hold back. This hour belongs to Valkyn!” And he was welcome to it. There would be plenty for Zander’s men to do once Castle Atriun had destroyed the defenders.
“I see the gold!” hissed Eclipse. “Look there!”
The gold dragon moved along the ground just beyond the hills, harrying the advance troops still caught out in the open. Zander studied the beast, noticing the ruined wings. “He can’t fly.”
“Good! The better to kill. I want to kill!” Battle would keep the ebony dragon from thinking about his twin.
A second and third bolt struck.
The first of the pair tore apart more of the catapults, leaving a blackened hole and mangled bodies. The second wreaked still more havoc on the Ergothian troops. As Zander watched, a fourth lightning bolt struck behind the defenders’ front lines, forcing many of the Ergothians out into the open. Two more quick and deadly strikes behind them sent the startled warriors directly into the waiting arms of the invaders.
“Now!” Zander shouted. “Now!”
His men couldn’t hear him, of course, but the officers on the ground nonetheless took advantage of the chaos, setting their troops loose on the desperate defenders. Valkyn’s plan had worked. Already Gwynned’s front lines were in disarray. Zander nodded in satisfaction as the first swords of both armies met, the clash audible even from this high vantage point.
Only Eclipse found no satisfaction with events. A thousand men might die, but the dragon only had eyes for one thing.
“I want the gold male!”
Zander considered. With Atriun striking with the power of the storm, nothing could stand in the way of the invaders. Yes, it was time for a little glory of his own.
“All right,” Zander shouted, drawing his sword. “We’ll take the golden male, but I command the attack!”
“So long as I taste his blood and feel his death!”
The black dragon dived, roaring. Sunfire looked skyward, saw the danger, and roared his own challenge.
The battle began in earnest.
Chapter 17
Turning the Storm
Rapp heard thunder again, followed by the renewed screams of Tyros. The kender paced the area before the infernal device, frantic with frustration.
From Tyros, he had learned that, unlike the manacles holding Stone, Valkyn had set these to kill anyone who tried to open them without his authority. After Tyros had so readily freed his friend Leot, the other wizard had decided not to take any more chances.
Despite all his lockpicks, Rapp could do nothing. Even Tyros himself didn’t have an answer.
The screaming subsided. The captive mage shook his head and, with tears streaming down, shouted, “Rapp, listen to me! One choice!”
“You’ve thought of something?” The kender’s eyes widened in hope.
“K-Kill me, Rapp. It’s the … the only way!”
Rapp looked at him in shock. “But I can’t do that!” It was one thing to hunt an animal for food or fight one of Valkyn’s undead servants, but to slay a friend, even for the sake of others … “I can’t!”
“Y-You have to! Valkyn … using me … to help kill others. Without m-me … loses way to power. Otherwise,” Tyros gritted his teeth and blurted out, “too many more will d-die!”
Not since he had found the orphan griffon cubs had Rapp been confronted by such a monumental decision. Of course, that choice had been easier. Rapp might have been a kender, one of a race with the inborn urge to wander, but he also had a sense of caring. The griffons would not have lived without him. Now, though, the small adventurer had to choose between one life and many.
“There must be another way.” Rapp turned once more to survey the chamber, finally focusing on the tables. With renewed hope, the kender rushed over and began studying the contents of each, looking for anything that might help.
There were rocks and crystals of all shapes, colors, and clarity. A few resembled the great crystals, and these Rapp marked for possible later perusal. Several jars held fascinating specimens of creatures or organs, but none of those seemed appropriate for the task at hand. Valkyn also kept a vast array of tools for crystal work, and while a few of these accidentally ended up in Rapp’s pouches, none would serve to free Tyros.
The imprisoned mage cried out more than once, which urged Rapp on. Yet nothing seemed right. The kender searched the rest of the chamber and found no sign of the original keys. Valkyn no doubt now carried those on his person, but Rapp could certainly not go hunting for the black mage. Yet without a key …
And then a very unkenderlike notion occurred to him. He had constantly been thinking of lockpicks and keys, believing the manacles the focus of his efforts despite the deadly spell on them. However, if he couldn’t even touch, much less open them, what if he concentrated elsewhere? Maybe Valkyn hadn’t thought about that.
Rapp looked around for anything that might do the trick. Of course, wizards were not very physical, and so the kender could not immediately find what he sought. Still, Rapp felt encouraged.
“Give … give up, Rapp! K-Killing me is … is the only way!”
“No. I think I know how to free you!”
“I told y-you. Manacles … enchanted.”
Rapp had no time to explain. He needed a good, strong edge, something he could lift and swing.
And there, seemingly forgotten in one remote end of the chamber, lay a sword. Rapp recognized the sword from the catacombs. Tyros had taken it with him, despite the fact that mages were not allowed to use any edged weapon larger than a dagger. A foul-looking black crust covered a good third of the blade. Still, the Solamnic weapon would serve well enough for what the kender had in mind.