Siege of Stone

CHAPTER 2

From the top of the defensive wall, Nathan gazed at the enormous petrified army. “Dear spirits, that is not a sight I expected.”

Bannon paled and struggled to contain his gasp. Lila stood at his side, stern and defiant.

When they had first encountered the statue figures, Nathan studied them with the interest of an avid historian, examining their armor, their weapons, their ancient expressions frozen in a moment of assumed victory over the great city of Ildakar. From his centuries of reading and learning, Nathan knew the history of General Utros and how the immense army had attempted to conquer the Old World in the name of his emperor, Kurgan. But after Nathan, Nicci, and Bannon entered the legendary city and found themselves caught up in the turmoil, he had barely given the petrified army another thought.

Flushed, High Captain Stuart stared at the siege force approaching the walls. “Our city has enough problems after last night’s uprising. My guards are still putting out fires, capturing combat animals, and stopping looters. But this…”

Nicci’s expression was shrewd and analytical. “What made the ancient soldiers come alive again, and why now? This is not an accident.”

Bannon leaned over the wall to get a better view. “Remember, the one named Ulrich woke up when I was out there with Amos, Jed, and Brock. The spell wore off, and he was just one confused warrior among so many thousands.” The young man’s voice became sadder. “Ulrich asked us for help, but they threw him into the combat arena. Chief Handler Ivan killed him.”

“He was a hard target to kill because his body was still partly stone, his skin much tougher than normal,” Nicci reminded them, focusing on the threat rather than the sad story. “And Ulrich was only one man, just a foot soldier. This is an army of many thousands.”

Nathan’s throat went dry as the realization sank in, and he glanced over at Stuart. “I would suggest, High Captain, that you close and barricade the gates and have the gifted add reinforcement spells. Mount Ildakar’s outer defenses.”

Stuart ran off, shouting for wizards and gatekeepers.

During Nathan’s time here, Elsa, a charming member of the duma, had helped him understand just how impregnable Ildakar was—or should have been. After fifteen hundred years behind the shroud of eternity, though, he wasn’t convinced the city had maintained those defenses. The duma members were overconfident, complacent in their isolation. The shroud had taken Ildakar outside the normal flow of time to where no army or magic could touch them.

Now, though, the shroud was destroyed and Ildakar could not hide. The city was stuck in the real world, and the petrification spell that neutralized the enemy army had failed. He knew that Wizard Commander Maxim had cast the spell in the first place, and the man had fled the city in disgrace. Had Maxim somehow dissolved his own spell, released the statue army as some kind of last treachery?

Nathan tossed his shoulder-length white hair and tried to sound confident for the benefit of the others crowded at the top of the wall. “We’ll have to rely on our own defenses.” After the events of the previous night and the destruction of the sacrificial pyramid, no amount of blood magic would bring the shroud back.

Bannon stared at the swarm of distant moving figures. “So many of them! Sweet Sea Mother, it’s like a hundred anthills, all ready to go to war.”

“If they were ants, we would stomp them,” Lila said. She seemed to like the idea.

Resigned, Nathan turned to Nicci. “Well, Sorceress, it doesn’t appear that we’ll be leaving immediately.”

Bustling in her purple robes, Elsa climbed the stairs to the top of the wall. “Ah, there you are, Nathan! I wanted to be sure you didn’t save the city without me, now that you have your gift back.” Her eyes twinkled with admiration. “After seeing what you did to the giant Ixax warrior, I have no doubt you could wipe out that entire army single-handedly.”

“Thanks for your faith in me, my dear, but it will take a little more than that.” Nathan felt a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the new heart of Ivan beating inside him.

Ildakar’s defenses consisted of more than just these immense walls blocking the city from the plain. Millennia ago, the wizards of Ildakar had altered the landscape, raising a huge swath of land along the Killraven River. From the river side, Ildakar ended abruptly on a bluff that loomed high above the water. The magical upheaval also spread out the river channel, creating labyrinthine lowlands for countless miles downstream. The surrounding swamps were an intimidating defense, with their tangle of shallow waterways and monstrous swamp creatures created by Ildakaran fleshmancers.

The most direct access to the city came from across the plain. Centuries ago, General Utros had led his overwhelming army from that direction and filled the valley with his soldiers as he laid siege to the city.

Worried, Bannon narrowed his hazel eyes. “We’re trapped in here.”

“We are safe in Ildakar, boy,” Lila corrected him. “This city has never fallen.”

He shook his head. “What about all the escaped slaves who already fled out into the hills? And there were hunters, yaxen herders, and other travelers out there, without protection.”

“They can run and hide, if they know what’s good for them,” Nathan said. “I’ll save my worries for us.”

From the top of the wall, they watched in concerned silence as the ancient soldiers formed lines like game pieces arranged on a broad strategy board. With a muffled, distant clatter of weapons, shields, and heavy boots, the enemy vanguard began marching forward.

“According to history, General Utros trained his people well,” Nathan said. “He was an efficient, powerful commander, and it was through his military genius that Emperor Kurgan conquered much of the Old World. Although Kurgan wasn’t a great leader himself, he was feared because of Utros.”

The front ranks trudged forward, only a few hundred at first, determined to reach the walls, but Nathan doubted they could do anything against the defenses. He tapped his chin as he scrutinized the countless ancient warriors on the open plain. “Look at them. They seem disoriented.”

Nicci gave her assessment. “I think this is an initial sortie to investigate. They may not understand what happened to them any more than we do. We can take advantage of their confusion.”

“I wish we could see what they’re doing,” Elsa said, shading her eyes. The shadows of sunrise still sprawled across the open plain, blurring the details.

Still feeling twinges of pain from the scar in his chest, Nathan called upon his gift. The heart of a wizard—Ivan’s heart—continued to beat, circulating his blood, strengthening his Han. He spread his fingers, holding his hands straight in front of him as if pushing against an invisible wall. “This may help us see them better.” He pinched the air and swirled his hands, as if rolling out dough on a table, stretching it. “Air is transparent, but if I fold it and curve it, I can make a kind of lens.”

An imaginary window rippled in front of him as he distorted the air. He sharpened the view, focused the image. Images hovered in the air before them as the ethereal lens magnified their oncoming foe.

Seen up close, the ancient soldiers wore flat expressions, and their skin was pale and chalky. Curved helmets covered the sides of their faces, and they wore leather shirts with many small metal plates sewn in place. Carrying thick swords, spiked maces, and long spears, rank after rank passed through the focal point of Nathan’s magical lens. Emperor Kurgan’s flame symbol stood out prominently on shirts and shields.

A chill went down Nathan’s back, coupled with a hint of awe. For so long he had studied records in the Palace of the Prophets, reading half of the library just so he could understand history, but these once-petrified warriors were no longer history. These men were alive, and they meant to attack Ildakar.

A full five centuries before Nathan himself was born, one of the most powerful leaders in the Old World had been Emperor Kurgan, called Iron Fang because of the artificial tooth that was his fearsome affectation. Iron Fang owed his success to the military genius of General Utros, who served his emperor with utter loyalty—except that Utros had secretly fallen in love with Kurgan’s wife, Empress Majel. Utros had gone off to conquer the legendary city of Ildakar, but he never returned, and now Nathan knew it was because the wizards of Ildakar had turned his army to stone.

Meanwhile, Emperor Kurgan was a bitter, capricious leader, not capable of ruling the lands Utros had conquered for him. In the general’s absence, when the volatile leader discovered evidence of his wife’s affair, Kurgan had skinned Majel alive in public and fed her still-living body to ravenous beetles, even though she wailed and repented, claiming she was still loyal to her husband and emperor.

When Iron Fang’s restless people saw the horrors he inflicted upon their beloved empress, they rose up and overthrew him, then dragged the man’s body through the streets, and the great but fragile empire broke apart into squabbling kingdoms.…

Now, as Nathan watched through his shimmering air lens, he marveled at the countless soldiers, all of whom still thought they were marching for Emperor Kurgan. They couldn’t possibly know how much time had passed.

But he wasn’t worried about the long-dead emperor. He muttered, “General Utros was always the greatest threat. He’s right here, and he is the one we should fear.”

The first ranks of enemy soldiers marched forward, their lines disorganized, and then they began to yell, a horrifying, hollow sound that boomed louder and louder. The thunder of their footfalls crashed across the grassy plain as they closed in on Ildakar.

Long ago, deep trenches had been dug around the outer walls, moats filled with spikes and sharp rocks, but over the centuries those trenches had become weathered and overgrown, as the people of Ildakar grew lax. Now hundreds of soldiers made their way up to the thick stone walls that loomed over their heads.

“What are they going to do?” Bannon asked, peering down at the hordes pressing against the wall.

“We’ll see soon enough,” Nathan said.

The enemy soldiers formed lines along the stone barrier, two or three deep. When they pressed close, they raised their gauntleted hands and pounded against the blocks, shouting with their cave-wind voices, hammering and hammering on the walls.

Before long, the first line stepped back, letting the second ranks replace them and continue the pounding. Several minutes later, they backed off to allow the third line forward. The monotonous pounding echoed throughout Ildakar, a nonstop rumble.

Elsa stood next to Nathan, nervous. “Our walls will hold,” she said. It sounded like a prayer.

For now, Nathan thought, but did not say it aloud.