Iron Tongue

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

" There' s no chance for attack," said Jacy Noratumi. " Look. They pick us off one by one. We must retreat."

" That' s cut off, too," Inyx pointed out. The tip of her sword indicated the various strategic positions occupied by Silvain' s archers. As long as the greys held the high ground, Inyx and her company could neither attack nor retreat.

Even as she spoke, one of Silvain' s men tried to go up the narrow path leading to the top of the mountain. One of her own archers rose and let fly a deadly shaft. The arrow flew straight and true; the man on the path died- and so did Inyx' s archer. A dozen hidden positions loosed arrows directly into the chest and belly.

" They can afford to trade one for one since they outnumber us," Noratumi said glumly. " And there is scant we can do."

Inyx hated having to agree. They' d be cut down if they attempted to return to Wurnna. A frontal assault was equally as suicidal. And staying only allowed Kiska k' Adesina time to move boulders atop the mountain for Claybore and his mages to scoot over the city and drop, letting gravity do most of the work.

" Keep firing and play it safe," was all she could suggest. The woman studied the situation and, for the greater part of a day, observed no weakness. Near twilight the next day, however, she pointed out certain flaws in the armed array facing them.

" Attack is still out of the question," said Noratumi, " but escape appears more likely. Does Silvain toy with us?"

" I don' t think Silvain is even in camp," she said. " I believe he took another route around the cliff and has rejoined Claybore."

" If that is so, perhaps k' Adesina has also left her post up there." Jacy pointed above to where tiny antlike creatures- workerstoiled to line up heavy boulder after boulder along the rim.

" That can only mean the main attack is imminent." She considered their alternatives and all looked equally bleak. " We go back to Wurnna. Now."

Noratumi silently signaled those near to pass along the order. Smashing repeatedly against the force guarding the path up the mountainside accomplished nothing. Inyx took every step away imagining what an arrow driving into her spine might feel like. While there were short, quick engagements, most of her force succeeded in regaining the trail leading back to Wurnna.

" What if this is another trap?" asked one of the archers.

" We have to take the chance that Silvain is no longer commanding that detachment," said Noratumi. " It' s a better chance than we had."

" But the possibility of traps:."

" Exists," admitted Inyx. " We also know to stay over long means our death." She hit the rocky trail at an easy lope and quickly outdistanced the others. Being alone helped her think of the things that were important; she ignored the possibility of a cleverly laid trap.

Lan. He must have known her mission was a long shot with a onein- a- million chance of succeeding. Was his trip to the valley of spiders any less of a clutching at feeble hope? She doubted it. By dawn Wurnna would again find the rocks descending from on high. In less than a day Claybore would have smashed the city to dust.

What then? Inyx didn' t want to think about it. Claybore' s conquest of still another world would be total.

The diminished band reached Wurnna a half- hour before the pale pinks of dawn lit the horizon. Inyx felt no joy at the sight of a new day, for this one would be filled with death and destruction unlike any she' d witnessed before along the Cenotaph Road.

" Why don' t they use their damned rocks?" Jacy Noratumi paced along the walkway, hands clasped behind his back. Now and then he reared back to study the mountains on either side of the fortress. In plain sight were twin rows of boulders large enough to smash the city to gravel, but Claybore refrained from launching them.

" Perhaps he is occupied elsewhere," suggested Rugga, hovering near Noratumi.

" Or he might be tired. He must tire like other mages. He has so few other sorcerers to aid him that he might require time to rest."

Inyx scoffed at this, saying, " He is immortal. Even Terrill wasn' t able to kill him. His power is limited, true, but there has never been a time when he' s held off attacking through weakness. He plays a war of nerves with us. He lets us see the boulders long enough to anticipate. He breaks our will to defend Wurnna."

" It' s working," was all Noratumi said.

Iron Tongue came striding up, looking as if he had won the war and ruled all the world. Inyx discounted the man totally now; he had lost contact with reality. While his words still carried their magical power, thanks to the tongue resting in his mouth, those words were confused and of little effect now.

" He runs from us. I have won!" the demented mage crowed. He opened his mouth and thrust out his metallic tongue in the direction of Claybore' s encampment at the far end of the canyon. It caught the noonday sun' s rays and transmuted them into dark and sinister light, as that reflected from a polished coffin. Inyx had to look away.

" Look. In the plain." Rugga rushed forward, pointing.

" A trick. Kill the bastard!" roared Noratumi. The archers sprang to their feet and loosed volley after volley of arrows. They turned aside harmlessly before touching either Claybore' s skull or torso or the mechanical carrying them.

" Hold!" boomed the dismembered sorcerer' s voice. " I would parlay."

" See? He surrenders to me. To me, Iron Tongue of Wurnna!" The cackling drowned out Claybore' s next words.

": above you, unused. But at any time they can be brought down. My terms are just and fair. I want my tongue. In exchange I shall grant all within Wurnna their freedom."

" What of the city?" called Rugga.

" It must be destroyed, but all within shall remain alive."

Inyx shook her head vehemently. Noratumi and Rugga were slower to admit that Claybore plotted a trap.

" Why offer us a truce at all?" asked Inyx. " He can crush us with his boulders. He has the power. Claybore is not one to refrain from wanton violence."

" He wants the tongue intact. Using the aerial bombardment might harm it," said Rugga. " That is the only reason I can think of. I say, give it to him. We can fight him another day."

" He won' t keep his word," blazed Inyx. " He will kill us the instant he has the tongue. Its use will make him infinitely stronger. You can imagine how potent will be the spells cast using it. Look at what he does with it." The distaste in her voice brought Iron Tongue' s head swiveling around.

" You speak of me, wench? I am considering Claybore' s offer. There is a certain justice in what he offers."

" Dammit, you just said you' d won. Will you surrender so quickly?" Inyx saw that arguing with a madman accomplished nothing. Iron Tongue' s mood and thought flipped from minute to minute.

" He will beg me for the tongue. Yes, I like that idea. Wurnna will survive, if he begs me for my tongue." He thrust out the parody of a tongue in Claybore' s direction once more, somehow managing to cause a grotesquely unnatural ripple to flow from one metallic end to the other. Tiny blue sparks lapped at the edges before it vanished back into the mage' s mouth.

Inyx leaned forward, hands on the protective stone of the battlement, too angry to speak. It wasn' t her place to decide for those of Wurnna. Iron Tongue was still their leader, demented or not. Rugga might seize power. She turned and looked at the woman, weighing the chance this might happen. A quick assassinating stab with a dagger into Iron Tongue' s kidney would leave the rulership vacant. But Rugga obviously had other goals now. She and Jacy Noratumi stood too close, eyed each other in a way Inyx understood all too well. Rugga wanted nothing more to do with Wurnna and leadership. She wanted only Noratumi.

" Fight," Inyx said, her voice almost too low to be heard. " Fight to the death. It' s cleaner than what he offers. He will never allow us to walk away."

Iron Tongue rocked forward, bent slightly at the hips, as if summoning up the energy to give in to Claybore. Inyx' s hand rested on her sword hilt. She wondered if a quick draw and a powerful slash across the throat would decapitate Iron Tongue. She doubted it. There would have to be a second cut, but the first might silence him enough to prevent use of the full force of his tongue.

An instant before she unsheathed and executed, hideous screams came cascading down from above. Startled, the dark- haired woman looked up. Then she let out a loud whoop of joy.

" Lan did it! The spiders!"

The soldiers either leaped or were tossed off the mountains by the score. Where once there had been boulders falling, now the air filled with flailing, screaming bodies. Darker forms dotted the cliffs, moving upward with agile grace.

" A boulder!" came the warning. " The boulders fly!"

One did smash into Wurnna, but the rest simply rolled off the canyon rim to plunge impotently to the floor some distance from the city. Inyx spun and looked out at the plain stretching in front of the city gates. Claybore balanced atop his mechanical as if stunned by the sudden turn of events. When he rattled off, shouting orders as he went, his troops milled in obvious disarray.

" Iron Tongue," said Inyx. " Use the Voice. Stop the troops from running away."

" Halt!" The word rolled like thunder down the canyon. The greyclads froze in their tracks. In spite of two figures going through the ranks, flogging and kicking, the majority of the soldiers stood frozen in their tracks.

" Those two," muttered Noratumi. " Silvain and k' Adesina?"

" Probably. Claybore called them in for what was to be his moment of triumph."

" Why' d you want the troops to stand? Now they can wheel and fight. We' re in no shape to fend off another assault." Rugga wore every piece of the power stone jewelry she had and still it seemed to give her little enough energy to conjure. The toll on her strength had been extreme while keeping Claybore' s magics at bay.

" Wait. Just wait." Inyx knew how Krek thought. If the giant arachnid commanded those on the heights, as she suspected he did, there would soon be a new element introduced into battle at the floor of the canyon. When spiders came crashing down on thick strands of webstuff, she knew the heights were secure. The spiders gathered, at first by ones and twos, then by dozens, to move away from Wurnna and into the frozen ranks of Claybore' s army.

Even the power of Iron Tongue' s command faded as raw terror shook the men and women facing eight- foot spiders with clacking mandibles and a ferocity little known outside the insect kingdom.

The carnage was great and the confusion in Claybore' s ranks even greater. Inyx found herself delighting in the sight of blood flowing in trickles, streams, rivers. To her left Iron Tongue stood stunned and uncomprehending. To her right Jacy and Rugga clung to one another. Inyx might gain vicarious revenge and savor the destruction, but none of the other humans did.

" They deserve this," Inyx tried to explain. " They tried to destroy your city. They did destroy Bron."

" But this:" croaked Rugga, turning away.

" This ends the physical threat," came a new voice. " But Claybore will not give up this easily."

" Lan!" Inyx rushed to him and gave him the hero' s kiss he deserved. He pushed her away, oddly distant.

" The battle is just beginning. Rugga, assemble all the mages. Claybore will fight like a cornered rat now. We must be ready. We must keep the tongue away from him at all costs."

To be out of sight of the bloodshed wreaked by the spiders, Rugga was happy to go on any mission, no matter how trivial. Only Lan Martak realized that the ferocity of battle had yet to reach a climax.

" Look at the death they caused. The grey- clads will never return. Not ever." Iron Tongue stood and gloated. The others uneasily stared out at the canyon stretching away from the city. While Claybore' s physical army may have been destroyed by the spiders, who now had returned to their valley, his magical senses were untouched. What worried Lan and the others the most was the lack of aggression shown by the dismembered mage.

" He plots something more diabolical than ever before," said Rugga. " I feel the air thickening about us."

Lan sensed this also, but discounted it as nervous foreboding. Whatever magics Claybore unleashed on them wouldn' t carry advanced warning.

" Are you all right?" asked Inyx, putting her hands on his shoulders and pressing her body to his back. She rested her cheek on his broad shoulder. " Ever since you came back from the valley of spiders you' ve been distant."

" I conjured an elemental," he said, knowing it meant little to her. " That' s one of the most potent of all sorceries and I did it, almost without thinking. I dipped down and drew power from within- and from the power stone- and countered Claybore' s water elemental with a fire elemental."

" Heavy magic," she said, obviously unaware of the tinkering with nature such a conjuration required.

" I did it so easily. Such power- and I don' t want it!" He held his hands before him and simply stared at them. These weren' t the hands he remembered. The work- thickenings were gone. These hands had turned soft and seemed incapable of properly wielding a sword, yet Lan Martak saw more on, within, around his fingers and palms. A radiance welled up from inside, pale and golden and more potent than even the strongest of sinews. He had lost a minor physical talent while gaining a major magical and psychic one.

" The Fates have chosen you to carry the fight to Claybore, to stop him," Inyx said softly. " Destiny, luck, call it what you will. You are the only one capable of doing it."

" But I' m not a mage," he protested.

" You weren' t," she corrected. " You are now. Your talents were hidden, but the many transitions between worlds have brought forth your true power."

" Am I still human?" he asked in a voice barely loud enough to hear. " Is any sorcerer human?"

Inyx answered by gently turning him around and kissing him.

" You' re human," she pronounced. " And I love you."

He returned the kiss and held her, feeling the world could stop now and he' d be happy for all eternity. But the mood shattered when he sensed a stirring of magic.

" Claybore!" he cried. Rugga and the few remaining mages were already on their feet, staring out into the emptiness, wondering what devilment Claybore produced.

They didn' t wait long to find out.

A warrior dressed in flame strode out. No human this, he towered a hundred feet above the walls of Wurnna. Mighty hands clutched a sword that no score of men might lift. Muscles rippling and sending out dancing tongues of fire, the giant swung the sword.

Lan and the others tried to ward off the blow. The sword grated and screeched and cut through stone, sending vast clouds of dust into the air. Wherever the sword touched stone, it turned molten and burned with insane intensity. None of Wurnna approached closer than a bowshot; none could endure the searing flame.

The giant bellowed out his hatred for all within the city and took a mighty overhead swing. The blade sundered the wall with a deafening crash.

" Lan," gasped Rugga, the sweat of fear popping out on her forehead and gathering the dust, " how do we stop it? No weakness is to be found. Our spells have no effect."

The young mage studied, probed, lightly tested Claybore' s monster for some clue. In its way this was a simpler magical construct than an elemental; it was also more difficult to counter. Lan knew an elemental would be a useless conjuration. Claybore wanted him to waste his efforts in ways producing little effect.

Lan clapped his hands and sent his dancing mote of light straight down into the ground at the giant' s feet. The mote spun in everwidening circles, boring, chewing up the very earth. Lan' s mind probed downward into the ground, summoning darkness to counter the flame. The pit widened and the burning giant was forced to retreat out of sword range of the city.

" Lan," said Inyx, tugging at his sleeve. " The giant. There' s something about him that' s familiar."

" I know. It' s Alberto Silvain."

Inyx recoiled in shock, thinking Lan' s exertions had somehow caused his mind to snap. Then she looked more carefully at the giant' s features. Bloated, vastly out of proportion, hidden by curtains of fire, but still she saw the resemblance.

" It is Silvain," she said, awe tingeing her voice. " But how does he do it?"

Lan ignored her now, concentrating on the pit. He worked it so that it stretched from one side of the canyon to the other, preventing the giant from crossing to again menace the city. But this was only a temporary measure; both he and Claybore knew it. The first round finished a draw.

" Prepare to launch a bolt of pure energy directly at the giant' s chest," he ordered Rugga and the pathetic few huddling nearby. Sorcerers tended to be arrogant. The spirit of the Wurnna mages had been broken long ago. All he hoped for was some small additional backing. The brunt of this battle was his and his alone.

" Iron Tongue," whispered Inyx, " tell the giant to stand still. Don' t let him move. You did it before. With the grey soldiers. Do it again." She was heartened to see the demented ruler puff up and look out onto the battlefield. His understanding of reality had fled, but some tasks still pleasured him.

" Die!" cried the mage. The word exploded from his mouth, backed by the full power of the tongue. Lan stumbled and had to support himself under the onslaught of that command. Iron Tongue might be insane, but the power of his tongue remained.

The effect on the giant convinced Lan that the battle might be winnable. He hadn' t counted on the potent effects of the tongue Claybore so ardently sought to recover. The giant that was Alberto Silvain stumbled and lurched as if drunk on some heady wine. While still countering the force of Iron Tongue' s command, the giant was vulnerable.

Lan Martak took full advantage to send the deadly bolt of energy the others had forged directly into Silvain' s chest. The bolt appeared to be the largest lightning strike seen by humanity; to Lan it was a spear with a razor- sharp point driving straight for Silvain' s heart. Not content with this, Lan diverted a bit of his power to further widen the vast cavity in the ground.

When the spear struck dead- center in his chest, Silvain let out a roar rivaling an erupting volcano. And, as in a volcano, torrents of hot lava exploded outward from him. This lava was the giant' s lifeblood. Larger- than- life hands clutching vainly at the energy bolt piercing his flesh, Silvain sank to his knees.

" Martak," boomed the single name from his lips. It combined admiration, accusation, and condemnation all in that instant.

Lan widened the hole until the dirt began crumbling under Silvain' s knees. The giant fought to stay upright on his knees, to avoid falling into the limitless pit in front of him.

Iron Tongue let go another command to die that caused the flames leaping and cavorting along Silvain' s limbs to extinguish like candles in a hurricane.

" Martak," Silvain repeated, then convulsively heaved the immense sword at Wurnna' s battlements. Lan took the opportunity to enlarge the bottomless hole a few inches further. The flaming giant fell forward into it, twisting and struggling, then grew smaller and smaller, cooler and cooler, then vanished from sight.

Lan let out a gasp of relief that was replaced by stark terror when he blinked and saw the thrown sword inexorably moving toward him. The weapon moved as if dipped in honey, but it moved. Spells bounced off it. The dancing light mote couldn' t touch it. Nothing deflected it.

" Out of the way," he commanded, knowing this might be Wurnna' s doom. Claybore had counted on him attacking the wrong weapon. He had sacrificed Silvain in order to deliver this weapon. Silvain was a pawn now discarded; the sword carried magics Lan couldn' t even guess at.

" I shall stop it," declared Iron Tongue. The ruler stood proudly on the battlement, chest bared as if daring Claybore to make the attempt. The sword moved smoothly, slowly, an unstoppable evil force.

Iron Tongue sucked in a lungful of air, then wove the command for the sword to vanish. It never wavered in its painstakingly slow journey toward Iron Tongue and Wurnna.

" Stop; I say. I command you. I am Iron Tongue. You can' t ignore my command. Stop, stop!"

The huge sword point pierced Iron Tongue' s chest. Like a branding iron through snow it came on, his flesh not even retarding the magical weapon' s progress. Iron Tongue twitched and weakly fought, a new command on his lips. Mouth falling open in death, the sorcerer' s tongue obscenely dangled out.

" It' s aimed for me," Lan said, pushing Inyx away. " Go join Jacy and the others. I don' t want you close by."

" No, Lan, we' re in this together."

He didn' t argue. With a wave of his hand he conjured a shock wave that lifted her from her feet and tossed her off the battlements. She landed below in a pile of rubble. He couldn' t even take the time to see if the fall had injured her. Even if it had, the fall was less likely to kill than the magical device he now faced.

The sword passed entirely through Iron Tongue, finally allowing the dead mage to slump to the stone walkway. As if guided by an unseen hand, the point turned and directed itself for Lan' s midsection. Spell after spell he tried, all fruitlessly. His mind worked at top speed, trying to understand what Claybore had done. Then he had it. The spells fell into their proper place; his hands moved in the proper orbits; the chants sounded right.

The sword struck.

Lan screamed, his concentration gone as excruciating pain lashed his senses. He jerked away as it pinked just under his eye and felt the sword dig deeper into his flesh, his bone. He futilely grabbed at the sword blade with his hands, knowing even as he did so that no physical force would move the magical from its course. The sword point dug deeper into cheek, burrowing into the jawbone, driving for the back of his head where the point might sever the spinal column.

Lan couldn' t stop the deadly advance; the joined forces of the remaining mages of Wurnna did. Rugga built on what Lan had started, forging a parrying force that turned the blade at the last possible instant.

" Destroy it!" shrieked Rugga. " Destroy Claybore' s evil sword!"

Her anger and hatred flowered and added supplemental power to the spell she had guided. While weakened, the sorcerers of Wurnna found enough strength to shatter the blade. As it had sailed, so did it explode. Ruptured pieces turned slow cartwheels, barely moving, still deadly. Only when the last had embedded harmlessly in stone or deep in the earth did Rugga and Inyx rush forward to tend to Lan.

" Oh, no, by all the Fates, no," Inyx said over and over. She stood in shock at the sight. The lower right portion of Lan' s jaw had been sheared away; his mouth was a bloody ruin. Thick spurts of his life juices blossomed and washed down his neck and chest.

" Claybore' s revenge must be sweet," said Rugga, the bitterness there for all to hear. " He' s cut out the tongue of his most powerful adversary. Lan Martak will never again utter a spell."

Inyx bent to staunch the bleeding. If Lan would never speak again, at least she could save his life. His eyelids fluttered up and glassy eyes softened at the sight of her, then he lapsed into unconsciousness.