The sorcerer smiled and turned toward them, holding out a hand. A black-and-emerald butterfly clung to one finger. Kaerinus smiled, then puffed breath at it. The insect took flight and quickly vanished in the branches above.
“It is not out of disrespect, Prince Nelesquin, but urgency.” The vanyesh shrugged. “I have spent so much time away that I sometimes forget Imperial manners. Wonderful creatures you have there. I pray the winged ones do not eat my butterflies.”
“They prefer somewhat bigger prey.” Nelesquin rode around Keerana. “What is so urgent?”
“Do you recall, my Prince, Mount Shanfa in Moryth?”
“You know I do.” Nelesquin glanced back at Keerana. “It was a nasty place, dark and dismal, a stone thorn shoved up through the world’s flesh. Virisken Soshir spent much time there.”
“I recall the place from my brief campaign in the Five Princes.” Keerana nodded slowly. “This tells me much of value.”
“Good.” Nelesquin returned his attention to Kaerinus. “What of that place? I’d sooner forget it than remember.”
“Then you are in luck, my Prince.” Kaerinus pointed to the south. “There have been reports. The mountain is gone.”
TheNewWorld
Chapter Thirteen
30th day, Month of the Hawk, Year of the Rat
Last Year of Imperial Prince Cyron’s Court
163rd Year of the Komyr Dynasty
737th Year since the Cataclysm
Tsatol Deraelkun, County of Faeut
Erumvirine
The army that came to destroy Tsatol Deraelkun was not what I had expected. I was not foolish enough to imagine that my half brother would bring the same army he had led ages ago when we fought a mock battle for our father’s pleasure. Of course, our father had not bothered to watch. Even if he had, he’d not have noticed how Nelesquin and I strove against each other.
We’d not come to hate one another yet.
I stood at a tower window with Count Derael seated in his wheeled chair beside me. “I believe you are right, my lord-the hammer-headed ape creatures are meant to hurl stones as a catapult might. The other long-armed ones are climbers. The bony shield around their necks covers their shoulders as they scale the walls.”
His voice did not waver despite the tremor running through his limbs. “They’re very pale and have no eyes to speak of. They must operate by scent. We can deal with that.”
I glanced down at him. “I imagine they will scent-mark the walls. Something hurled.”
He turned his face up at me, surprise flashing there for a heartbeat before his general fatigue returned his face to impassiveness. “Did you not notice the little white things, over there, on the left in the shadow of the woods?”
I looked. “I’d taken them for sheep, my lord, though they have the body of spiders.”
“Yes, and their wool is spun webbing, ready for deployment. Given how the climbers are segregated from the woolspiders, but keep sniffing when the breeze blows across, I suspect the climbers eat them.” Count Derael inhaled laboriously. “The woolspiders will be sent against us. When we kill them, their ichor will mark the battlements and perhaps even drive the climbers into a frenzy.”
“And then the kwajiin come.” I slowly shook my head. The invaders had assembled nine thousand warriors and had their entire force arrayed against the southeastern corner of the fortress. A conventional army would have found that approach difficult. The only suitable staging area for siege machines was at the edge of their range and below the castle’s ground level. While they could still hit the walls, it would take a long time to bring them down, and then the troops would have to race uphill to engage the defenders.
“Do you see any tunneling beasts, Master Soshir?”
“No, but that does not surprise me, either.” I crossed my arms. “Nelesquin had no great love of tunnels after we scoured a Viruk labyrinth of pirates. He was lost for a time, and once we had destroyed the pirates, he wanted nothing more to do with tunnels.”
“And yet, because this prejudice is known to you, I must assume he has worked against it.” The man’s eyes burned intensely. “This complicates the defense of our home.”
“It cannot stand.”
“This I know, Master Soshir.” He twitched a hand to the right, and the gesture seemed to exhaust him. “If you could turn me to the maps.”
I dutifully turned the chair and rolled him across the round room to where maps had been hung on the opposite wall. Diagrams of every level had been drawn in great details and marked with sigils and signs I could not decipher.
“I have my engineers opening the false columns below. We will light fires in them. They will bring fire to key stones. You know what happens to granite when it is heated, yes?”
“It can powder.”
“Exactly. Within an hour or two this fortress will collapse. With any luck, it will take the bulk of the invaders with it.”
I nodded. “A couple of hours is enough to get everyone clear. We’ve already stationed the First Naleni Dragons and the Keru in the mountains to hold the gaps as we evacuate. The messages we’ve sent to Moriande should bring more troops. We’ll live to fight another day.”
“You may, Master Soshir, but this is my last battle.”
I crouched and laid a hand on his. His flesh was cold, but I still felt life in him. “This is not your final battle. The previous times the walls have fallen did not signal the end of the Derael family. You might think, had you not become ill, this place would never fall. You could have held it-through the first assault and the second. Perhaps a third. But all the Mystics Empress Cyrsa led into the Wastes could not stop Nelesquin from taking this fortress. Just as he brought his invaders and his living siege machines, he would bring more and more terrible creatures. Losing this fortress is not defeat, but surrendering because of its loss is.”
The man hung his head for a moment. “You do not understand how it is, Master Soshir. I am Fortress Derael. My weakness is its weakness. We die together. There is no dissuading me from this.”
Another voice, a young man’s voice, broke in from the doorway. “I shall not dissuade you, Count Derael. I order you to evacuate.”
The count did not look up. “You honor me, Prince Iekariwynal, but that is an order with which I cannot comply.”
The young Virine prince strode into the room in white armor with a red bear rampant crest on the breastplate. “You are my champion, Count Derael, and I need you. I will not have you die here.”
“But I am useless in your service.”
“No. I heard Master Tolo lecture his troops on the way about how it was more important to make the enemy worry about death than it was to kill them. These kwajiin know no fear, but they can learn it. Your very survival will inspire fear. Your knowledge will be the seed of their defeat.”
“Better the two of you conspire to defeat the enemy than convincing me of my worth.”
But before either of us could comment, a horn blew from the battlements outside. I ran to the window and the Prince wheeled his champion forward. There, in the distance, came a massive beast with a pavilion on its back. The creature plodded along slowly, but such was its size that it closed the distance swiftly. This made it easy for me to read the pennants flying above the pavilion.
“Nelesquin has arrived.”
The Prince pointed. “Look there.”
Evil looking bat-birds drifted along over the treetops, then climbed and began to circle like vultures. “They have archers on their backs.”
“So they do, Highness.” The count’s eyes narrowed. “This changes things. He will begin the assault now.”
“I know. Perhaps I can slow him down.”
The count caught the hem of my sleeve. “You will not commit the foolishness you accuse me of, will you?”