They summoned their litters, climbed in and had their slaves carry them through the dimly lit corridors of the tower, down twisting ramps to the rooms Kalan had adapted as laboratories. A door opened and foul-smelling heat struck their bodies. Meliadus could feel it through his mask. He coughed as he left his litter and walked into the chamber where Kalan stood, his scrawny body naked to the waist and only his mask on his head, supervising the serpent-masked scientists who toiled for him.
Kalan greeted them impatiently. "What do you want? I have no time for conversation!"
"We wondered what progress you were making, Baron." Meliadus yelled over the boiling sound.
"Good progress, I hope. The facilities are ridiculously primitive. The weapon is almost ready."
Taragorm glanced at the tangle of tubes and wires from which all the noise and heat and stink was issuing. "That's a weapon?"
"It will be, it will be."
"What will it do?"
"Bring me men to mount it on our roof and I'll show you in a few hours."
Meliadus nodded. "Very well. You realise what depends on your success, Kalan?"
"Aye, that I do. I'm beginning to curse myself for joining you, Meliadus, but I'm in with you now and can only continue. Please leaveI'll send word when the weapon's ready."
Meliadus and Taragorm walked back through the corridors, their litters following behind.
"I hope Kalan has not lost all sanity," Taragorm said icily. "For if he has, that thing might destroy us."
"Or destroy nothing," Meliadus said gloomily.
"Now who is the pessimist, brother?"
Returning to his apartments, Meliadus discovered that he had a visitor. A fat visitor clad in gaudy silk-covered armour with a brightly painted helm representing a savage and grinning hound.
"Baron Adaz Promp," said Flana Mikosevaar, emerging from another room. "He arrived shortly after you left, Meliadus."
"Baron," Meliadus said, bowing formally. "I am honoured."
Adaz Promp's smooth tones came from the helm. "What are the issues, Meliadus? What are the goals?"
"The issuesour plans of conquest. The goalsto put a more rational monarch on the throne of Granbretan. One who will respect the advice of experienced warriors such as ourselves."
"Respect your advice, you mean!" Promp chuckled. "Well, I have to admit that I thought you insane, my lord, not Huon. Your pursuing this wild vendetta against Hawkmoon and Castle Brass, for instance. I suspected that it was motivated only by your private lust and vengeance."
"You no longer believe that?"
"I do not care. I am beginning to share your opinion that they represent the greatest danger to Granbretan and that they should be exterminated before we think of anything else."
"Why have you changed your mind, Adaz?" Meliadus leaned forward eagerly. "Why? You have some evidence not known to me?"
"More a suspicion or two," Adaz Promp said slowly, fatly. "A hint of this, a hint of that."
"What sort of hints?"
"A ship we encountered and boarded in the northern seas as we were returning from Scandia to answer our emperor's call. A rumour from France. Nothing more."
"What of the ship? What ship was it?"
"One like those anchored on the river, only much largerwith the strange contraption on its arse and no sails. It was battered, drifting and had two men aboard, both wounded. They died before we could transfer them to our own vessel."
"Shenegar Trott's ship. From Amarehk."
"Ayethat's what they told us."
"But what has it to do with Hawkmoon?"
"It appears they met Hawkmoon in Amarehk. It seems they received their wounds from Hawkmoon in some bloody battle in a city called Dnark. According to these menand they were ravingthe issue of the dispute was the Runestaff itself."
"And Hawkmoon won the dispute."
"Indeed he did. There were two thousand of them, we were toldTrott's men, that isand only four, including Hawkmoon, against them."
"And Hawkmoon won!"
"Ayeaided by supernatural warriors according to he who lived long enough to babble the tale. It all sounds like truth mixed with fantasy, but it is plain that Hawkmoon defeated a force much larger than his own and that he personally slew Shenegar Trott. It does seem, also, that he has certain scientific powers at his disposal of which we know little. This is confirmed by the manner in which they managed to escape from us the last time. Which brings me to my second tale, picked up from one of your own Wolves as we marched to Londra."
"What's that,"
"He had heard that Castle Brass has reappeared, that Hawkmoon and the rest took a town to the north of the Kamarg and destroyed every man of ours occupying it. It's a rumour and hard to believe. Where could Hawkmoon have raised an army at such short notice?"
"Such rumours are common in times of war," Melia dus mused, "but it is possible. You believe Hawkmoon a larger threat than Huon thought?"
"It's a guessbut I feel it's an informed one. I'm motivated by other considerations, Meliadus. I think that the sooner we end this fight the better, for if Hawkmoon has an armyrecruited, perhaps, in Amarehkthen the sooner we should clear it up. I'm with you, Meliadus. I can put half a million Hounds at your disposal within the next day."
"Have you enough now to take the palace with those that I command?"
"Possibly, with artillery cover."
"That you shall have."
Meliadus pumped Promp's hand. "Oh, Baron Adaz, I believe we shall have victory by the morrow!"
"But how many of us will be alive to see it, I wonder," Promp said. "To take the palace will cost a few thousand livesperhaps even a few hundred thousand."
"It will be worth it, Baron. Believe me.
Meliadus's spirits were rising at the prospect of victory over Huon, but mainly he gloated that he might soon have Hawkmoon in his power againparticularly if Kalan could really find a way of re-activating the Black Jewel as he had promised he would.
Chapter Seven
The Battle for Huon's Palace
MELIADUS WATCHED THEM mount the contraption on the roof of his headquarters. They were high above the streets and close to the palace where the fighting raged. Promp had not yet brought up his Hounds but was waiting to see what Kalan's machine would do before he made an open attack on the palace gates. The huge building seemed capable of withstanding any attackit looked as if it could survive the end of the world. It rose, tier upon magnificent tier, into the lowering sky. Flanked by four vast towers glowing with a peculiar golden light, encrusted with grotesque bas-reliefs depicting Granbretan's ancient glory, shining with a million clashing colours, protected by gigantic gates of steel thirty foot thick, the palace appeared to look down contemptuously at the embattled factions.
Even Meliadus felt momentary doubt as he stared at it, then returned his attention to Kalan's weapon. From the mass of wires and tubes projected a great funnel, like the bell of a monstrous trumpet and this was turned toward the palace walls crowded with hosts of soldiers, primarily of the Orders of the Mantis, the Pig and the Fly. Outside the city the ranks of other Orders were preparing to assault Meliadus's forces from the rear and he knew the time element was crucial, that if he won a victory at the palace gates others would come over to his side.
"It is ready," Kalan told him.
"Then use it," Meliadus growled. "Use it on the troops manning the walls."
Kalan nodded and his Serpents trained the weapon. Kalan stepped forward and seized a great lever. He turned his masked face to the lurid skies as if in prayer, then he pulled the lever down.