In the distance Rik heard the sound of music and merrymaking. He wondered how it was going in the city proper. An army freed from discipline and filled with relief at the end of a battle was a fearsome thing. Even its attempts to enjoy itself would be brutal. Rik guessed that many of the buildings that were alight in the city centre had not been when the western soldier's first entered the city. Many of the nobles who had come out to greet the Army's commanders were probably here as much for their own protection as to take part in the ritual of surrender.
A huge number of people formed the column that emerged from the open gates of the city. No servants were allowed. Nobles held their own personal glowglobes on the end of their wands. Apprehension was written on every Kharadrean face. They had defied the approaching army and refused to surrender even when their city was surrounded. According to the normal protocols of war, the attackers were entitled to do with them what they willed.
In truth they had very little choice. Their soldiers would expect something for the risks the defenders intransigence had forced them to run. The Talorean commanders had little option but to allow the traditional three days of rapine and looting. To do otherwise under the circumstances would have been to invite the mutiny of their own army. The question burning in the minds of the vanquished must be how much did the High Command of the Taloreans hold this against them?
As they entered the square Elakar raised his sceptre and soldiers moved to stop the Kharadreans. Another gesture and a delegation of Terrarch nobles was allowed to come closer.
"State your name," said Elakar. His voice was cold and cutting and gave no sign that he recognised the status of the defeated. If Lord Azaar resented having his fellow commander speak before him he gave no sign. If anything his posture became a fraction more bored and indolent. Kathea looked as if she wanted to speak, but dared not. She was not quite so secure in her power as the Taloreans wanted her people to think.
"I am Telarn Vashaka, Lord Governor of Halim," said a stately, silver-haired old Terrarch. His face was lined and his skin seemed parchment thin in the witchlight. An air of weariness and sadness hung over him like a cloud. How old was he really, Rik wondered? What might have been signs of ageing in a human were often signs of disease in a Terrarch.
"You are the one who chose to deny our legal request of surrender. You are the one who brought doom upon the people it was your lawful duty to protect."
"I acknowledge that Lord Elakar. I ask clemency only for my people, not for myself."
"The Queen's Soldiers were forced to fight. They have claimed their right of plunder."
"Surely you would not punish all the citizens of Halim for an old dotard's folly," said Telarn. It was obvious that he had chosen to take all the responsibility for what had happened upon himself, possibly in the hope that his family and friends would be spared. It would have seemed noble to Rik, had it not seemed so futile. Nothing was going to stop the rape of the city now that it had begun. He had seen such things before, during the Clockmaker’s rebellion back in Talorea.
"I don't think we have much choice in the matter," said Lord Azaar. "Events have taken the decision out of our hands."
Elakar looked at his fellow General as if shocked by his honesty. Rik guessed he was not a Terrarch who would ever admit to his own powerlessness. "Halim has resisted. Halim will pay the price," he said eventually. "In three days you will see what your folly has brought upon your city."
"In three days I will not be alive to see it," said Telarn. "I will atone for my folly with my life."
"Tell me why you chose to resist us?" Azaar asked. "It must have been obvious that you could not withstand our forces."
"We were promised aid," said the Lord Governor of Halim. "It never came."
"Who promised you this?"
"King Khaldarus."
"Khaldarus is not king," said Elakar. "He is a mere pretender to the throne that is rightfully his sister's."
Telarn looked as if he wanted to disagree. For a moment his features became almost animated but then one of the accompanying delegation, a tall, fine-featured Terrarch woman, reached out and touched his hand.
"It is as you say," he said, almost grudgingly.
"Not only is he a pretender to the throne, he is a liar and a traitor to those who trusted him. As you have found out to your cost."
"It is as you say, Lord Elakar. We have come to throw ourselves on your mercy and offer ourselves as hostages for our city. We place our fate in your hands, and request you show mercy as well as wisdom."
"You may approach," said Elakar. "We will accept your surrender, and your parole."
Elakar surveyed the approaching Kharadreans as if he had personally defeated every one of them in hand-to-hand combat and he expected applause and recognition for the deed. It was as if he, and not Azaar, was the famous General, and as if his plan, and not Azaar's had achieved the victory.
One by one the Kharadreans approached and were announced. Elakar gestured his acknowledgment but said nothing. Occasionally Azaar spoke, greeting some old acquaintance among the conquered. There seemed to be a fair number of them. Eventually, after some hours the procession passed and was led off to a tented compound nearby. Azaar turned to Elakar and his fellow general nodded.
"Halim has surrendered," Elakar said. "We are triumphant. Let our victory be celebrated."
The Taloreans began to cheer. Azaar rose from his throne and limped wearily back to his pavilion.
Sardec sat amid the ruins of the burned out building and looked at his men. Their uniforms were dirty, their faces smudged with soot but they looked happy and more than a little drunk. All of them carried sacks filled with plunder. The army had fallen on Halim like a swarm of locusts set on devouring a field of corn. Anything of the slightest value had been grabbed, any liquor or beer seized. Now men guzzled stolen food and glugged down stolen wine.
Sardec did not blame them. They had risked their lives for months for the pittance the army paid them. This was their chance to get something for their trouble. Nonetheless he found it depressing. They were using tapestries as blankets and cloaks, and the frames of paintings burned on bonfires. In the distance he could hear the screaming of women, and now and again, a man would rise from the fires and head of in the direction of the sound. Some looked ashamed, some looked expectant but most of them went. A few men sat by the fires and muttered prayers against temptation, but some of those whom Sardec would have thought the most devout were among those most eager to head off. It was as if all normal rules of behaviour had been suspended. Laws did not apply in this time and place. Men could do now what they would have been hanged for at other times, and a significant number of them were taking advantage of that fact.
Woe to the vanquished indeed, Sardec thought. He knew from previous experience that in a few days many of those men would be ashamed of what they were doing now. He supposed that they knew that as well as he, and yet it did not stop them. It constantly surprised him what war brought out in men. At times they could be selfless and heroic as saints, sacrificing their own lives as they tried to help fallen comrades. At other times they were little better than beasts.