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“You’re back!” Brianna cried, rushing to embrace the lord marshal. “How did you fare?”

He shrugged. “Not well. We managed to attack the wizard. He is badly injured, possibly slain, but a company of ogres charged in before we could do any more damage. We were driven back.”

“But at least you foiled the wizard!” cried the duchess, seizing at the straw. “If he can’t help the enemy any more, that’s got to be good for us.”

“It came at no small cost,” the lord marshal admitted. “Four brave knights fell in the course of our escape.” Jaymes turned to Lord Martin. “Your son’s courage was pivotal to our attack… but I am sorry to tell you that he paid for that courage with his life.”

The lord’s face drained of color. He staggered almost imperceptibly. Then he stood straight, forcing the words out through his clenched jaw. “The Kingfishers hold to the same creed as the other orders: Est Sularus oth Mithas. I am grateful his death was not in vain.”

“By all that’s holy-did you just leave the dead behind? The bodies of those brave men?” demanded Lord Harbor. He faced Jaymes across the table. “Do you mean to say you just fled for your own safety? That you didn’t make the wretches pay?”

“Don’t talk nonsense!” snapped Brianna.

“But the honor of the knighthood-the tradition! An honorable knight does not leave his comrades’ bodies in the hands of the enemy!”

“Such traditions must give way to dire necessity,” the duchess said.

“Your Grace,” said the lord, drawing himself up stiffly. “If it has come to the point where my advice is no longer req-”

“I require your good advice, my lord!” she declared. “And I shall continue to expect it. But right now we must address the emergencies at hand!”

“I intend to make the enemy pay dearly,” Jaymes told the lord. “I will not forget the sacrifice of good men. But we must persist with our plan. We can’t stop the elemental king, but now is our chance to strike at the army that flanks his advance.”

Lord Martin cleared his throat. “The elemental has gained ground rapidly-faster than his support troops can follow,” he noted. His pallor remained ashen, but his voice was firm and purposeful. “You are right; we might be able to come at them from behind and from the sides, hit them hard, while the monster is elsewhere.”

“Where is the giant now?” Jaymes asked.

“It began to demolish the armory shortly after you descended into the tunnel. It has been smashing away on the walls and towers there-almost in a frenzy. It’s not far from here,” Brianna explained.

“I remember where the armory is,” Jaymes said. “I should head there directly and have a look. If possible, I can harass and delay the creature. How many troops do you have in nearby positions?”

“Several companies have fallen back from the gate,” Martin informed him. “One or more can go with you.”

“Good. Get the rest of the garrison into a position for an all-out attack on the ogres and goblins.”

“We’ll have them ready as soon as we can,” said the duchess, her cheeks flushing. “There’s no time to waste.” She touched his beard with her small hand, looking up at him with shining eyes. “You… take care. May the gods watch over you.”

“All is not lost,” he replied. “Keep your faith, but be ready for anything.”

“Farewell, my Lord Marshal,” she said, pulling her hand away with visible reluctance.

With a final wave, the lord marshal and his professional guide and pathfinder extraordinaire dashed out the door and into the smoky streets of Solanthus. Lord Martin had preceded them and was waiting with nearly a hundred swordsmen and archers in two units. Raising shields and blades, the swordsmen swung behind Jaymes and the kender, while the archers hoisted their full quivers and trotted along, bringing up the rear.

The monster loomed over the wreckage of a military barracks, standing amidst the shattered stone walls. Winds whirled around its cyclone legs, raising a thick, noxious cloud of dust and casting medium-sized rocks through the air. These missiles flew randomly in all directions, crashing and skidding along the ground wherever they landed, adding to the chaos and destruction as they smashed through the wooden walls of nearby buildings.

Flames flickered around the lofty visage of its craggy face, and for a moment the monster paused, as if surveying its accomplishments thus far. The armory, once a small but sturdy castle, had been reduced to mounds of broken stone. Here and there were bonfires where the monster had aimed its fiery gaze, but the remnants of the stony structure lacked much in the way of combustibles, so there were no major conflagrations, just small blazes, smoldering piles of charred logs, and pyres of black smoke.

Jaymes and Moptop had spotted the elemental king as soon as they emerged from the temple. They cut down a side street, moving north for a couple of blocks then circling around through a narrow alley and entering the yard of a nearby stable. Lord Martin and his makeshift company trailed close behind. Now they all watched the conjured monster from behind a broken doorway and the shattered walls of the building across the street.

“What now?” asked the kender in a small voice, looking skeptically at the monster. “I hope it doesn’t notice us. It’s not like we can do much to stop it, can we?”

“I’m not at all sure what we’re going to do,” replied the man-a remark that caused his companion to blink in surprise or perhaps consternation. For once, however, the loquacious kender seemed at a lack for words; he merely nodded sagely.

The elemental king had wrecked much of the west side of Solanthus. Now, with the armory and adjacent barracks utterly demolished, it was faced with a choice. To the north sprawled vast neighborhoods of houses and apartments, while a turn east would take it toward the ducal palace and the heart of the Solanthian metropolis.

After a moment’s respite, the hulking creature took a step through the wreckage, striding toward the stable where the lord marshal and kender crouched in concealment. But they were beneath notice and hadn’t been spotted. One of its massive, swinging legs kicked through the remnant of the armory wall, coming to rest in the street. Dust billowed out and up with each step, and the smoke thickened in the force of the swirling winds. The monster took another step, and another, and soon moved away down the avenue.

“This way,” Jaymes said, leading Martin and the fighting men to the west, away from the elemental, keeping the shattered wall between themselves and the hulking monster.

In moments they reached a cross street. To the right, a small company of ogres were lumbering along in the wake of the elemental. In the opposite direction, they saw the brown, shaggy figures of a dozen warg wolves, each ridden by a goblin. The unruly, snarling beasts were poking through the ruins of a house, while their riders jabbered and shrieked.

“Here’s as good a chance as any,” Jaymes said to the lord. “Have your archers concentrate on those wolves. I’ll lead a group of swordsmen against the ogres.”

“Very good,” Martin replied. The bowmen, each with a sturdy longbow, nocked arrows to their strings. The soldiers with swords and shields took up their positions.

“Now!” Jaymes declared, drawing Giantsmiter and charging into the street with the swordsmen following.

Immediately the ogres barked and hooted, turning and charging the defenders in a mass. In moments the two sides were clashing. In the lead, Jaymes fought like a madman, slashing to the right and left. He dropped two ogres as the enemy clubs and blades smashed into the shields of the Solanthian footmen, and the narrow lane was filled with flailing bodies; slashing weapons; and howling, screaming combatants.

Jaymes swept another ogre off its feet, followed up by a fast stab that penetrated the brute’s breastplate, chest, and heart. Breaking from the melee, he glanced over his shoulder to see the archers were firing away, arrows scything into the goblins and wargs, dropping wolves and riders at fifty paces. Within breaths, the whole detachment of cavalry was wiped out, and a moment later the last of the ogres fell, bleeding and dying.