Siege of Stone

CHAPTER 81

After the transference magic activated, Bannon hoped Nathan and Elsa had survived out on the plain, which must now be an inferno. The magic left only bitter cold on the cliffs and the frozen Killraven River.

Wearing nothing but her scant leather wrap, Lila showed no reaction to the cold, although the breath steamed out of her mouth when she spoke. “They are coming. Be ready, boy.”

Despite the suddenly frigid temperature, Bannon felt sweat running down his skin. He steeled himself. “My name is Bannon.”

Even though all the Norukai vessels had been locked in fists of river ice, the raiders were not deterred. Ignoring their dead who had toppled from the bluff, they brought out their own siege ladders from the decks and braced the long narrow constructions against the glazed sandstone.

The unstable ice continued to crack and pop as shards broke loose and fell down the cliff like frozen spears, but the Norukai kept climbing toward the cargo platforms and tunnel openings.

Ready to fight, Bannon and Lila watched the raiders ascend, level by level, using axes and daggers to chop handholds in icy rock. “Sweet Sea Mother,” he said, clutching his frigid sword, “we can’t just wait for them to overwhelm us.”

“Agreed,” Lila said. “Let’s go down and stop them from climbing higher.” She swung out of the overhang to the narrow ledge that led down to the next loading platform. The footing was precarious in the best of conditions.

Bannon gasped, “The ice—”

“The ice is in patches. Hold on to the solid rock and follow me down to this scaffold.” She glanced up at him. “Unless you want to stay up there and watch me fight alone?”

“I’ll fight at your side.” He sheathed his sword in order to use both hands as he made his way after her.

Ildakarans poked out of sheltered tunnels, breathing steam in the bitter-cold air. They redoubled their efforts to throw any remaining debris they could find. At the top of the plateau, the three gifted nobles had come back after the abrupt wave of transference magic. Now they used the gift to dislodge ice chunks and send them tumbling down the frozen rock. Bannon couldn’t understand why Damon and Quentin hadn’t responded to the urgent alarm, since they were far more powerful wizards. Ildakar needed them!

Now that Elsa’s transference spell was done, the sandstone began to warm rapidly under the bright sunlight, and veils of mist whispered all around, like a smoke screen. Bannon saw at least ten Norukai warriors slip and fall, screaming, but more kept climbing. The largest Norukai led the charge, a big man with bone spikes implanted in his shoulders and iron plates grafted onto his fists. He was accompanied by a spiderlike albino creature whose skin was pocked by what looked to be countless bite marks.

“My Grieve, King Grieve!” the creature cried as he scuttled upward, finding tiny handholds. “Cold, snow, ice! I told you, I dreamed it. Cold, cold!”

The Norukai king glared down at him. “You were right, Chalk, but you also dreamed a victory. I don’t care about ice. I care about Ildakar.”

Bannon dropped down to an icy wooden platform that was used to raise and lower crates. Anchored to the cliff, the platform had frozen in place, the supporting ropes iron hard, but it was wide enough for Bannon to make a stand. Lila sprang beside him onto the wood, and the two of them watched the first Norukai climbing closer to them.

Bannon braced himself, feeling the anger heat his blood. He pulled Sturdy out of its scabbard and held it ready. Beside him, Lila grinned, holding her short sword and dagger. She spat down at the enemy. “These Norukai may be uglier than Utros’s soldiers, but I think they should be easier to kill.”

The sounds of battle grew louder as more invaders climbed the rocks and reached loading platforms and ledges scattered across the sandstone bluff. On one of the narrow wooden shelves, three defenders—Bannon recognized the young painters who had put the finishing touches on Elsa’s giant rune—fought with sticks and knives. Their platform blocked one of the main entrances into the bluff. They whacked at the clutching hands of the Norukai, but they were overwhelmed.

One of the young fighters was stabbed through the side, and a female Norukai tossed his body from the platform. She and two other raiders climbed up, gripping the edge of the scaffolding. The remaining two young men fought with knives, hacking off Norukai fingers, and three of the raiders fell to their deaths, but it wasn’t enough. Six more Norukai gained the platform, and the young men were doomed. They looked at each other, and Bannon saw a silent, fatalistic understanding pass between them. With the last of their strength, the two bloodied Ildakaran defenders used their knives to slash the ropes holding the platform. The ice-slick scaffolding broke free, dumping the two young men as well as the climbing Norukai down the cliff to the frozen river below.

Seeing this, Bannon let out a moan. “I am not waiting anymore!” He left the safe platform and scrambled down a slippery ladder, not even thinking about the sheer fall. Instead, he dropped to the next shelf and reached another scaffolding platform that dangled against the bluff. Lila scrambled after him.

Nearby, King Grieve and his freakish white companion climbed up, batting away defenders. Bannon saw him and knew his enemy, the leader of the loathsome slavers. “I will kill you, King Grieve,” he shouted.

The Norukai ruler looked at Bannon as if he were an insect, and grinned with his hideously scarred mouth. He shifted his ascent, climbing to the platform where the young swordsman stood ready. Bannon’s body was covered with sweat. He felt the fire inside of him, and he wasn’t afraid of the battle at all.

The wood on the platform was still slick. Ignoring the cold and the treacherous ice in crannies, Grieve clung like a beetle to the rocks. Intent on Bannon, he moved along the narrow incised path, climbing stone stairs that were smaller than his boots.

Bannon recalled how the Norukai had tried to capture him when he was a boy, dragging him to their long boats, and poor Ian … a life lost, tormented. He also thought about how many raiders he had killed at Renda Bay, and he looked forward to killing more, here and now.

“Look out, boy!” Lila landed on the platform next to him.

He heard a grunt just beneath him, and he spun to see a hefty Norukai lurching to the other side of the platform, reaching up to grab him from below. The Norukai opened his sliced mouth wide, and Bannon’s boot heel caught him full in the lower jaw with a vicious kick. Flesh tore, facial muscles snapped, and the Norukai’s entire lower jaw ripped off, leaving the man gurgling, his tongue dangling like a flap of raw meat from his open throat. Flailing, the raider grabbed at Bannon’s foot, but the young man kicked again, caught his enemy full in the forehead, and sent him flying out into open air.

Two more raiders crawled up the side of the bluff, and Lila thrust at them with her short sword.

King Grieve had not forgotten Bannon’s challenge, though. He worked his way over with his pale shaman scampering after him. He seized the edge of the platform, hauling himself closer. Bannon swung Sturdy, and Grieve blocked it with a muscular arm, catching the sword blade against one of his metal bracers. Sparks flew. Grieve grunted from the blow and let out a serpentlike hiss of challenge. He swung himself off the icy stone path and landed heavily on the wooden platform.

Grieve had a thick, cruel blade that Bannon wasn’t sure he could have lifted with two hands, but the Norukai king held it in a single palm. He reached out to grab the young man, who swung a wide stroke with Sturdy. The king threw himself backward and the blade missed his broad chest.

As his emotions built up for this vital battle, Bannon began to see red at the edges of his vision. He smashed with the sword and sliced a crimson line across Grieve’s chest, but the Norukai king didn’t twitch. He hammered back with his huge curved sword, catching Bannon unawares. The young man barely managed to deflect the blow.

Lila decapitated a Norukai who had climbed up the other side of the platform. The ice-encrusted ropes groaned with the extra weight.

As the sun continued to warm the bluffs and the fog faded, more chunks of ice shattered and slid like broken glass down the cliff face. The Norukai had thrown up additional siege ladders, building makeshift platforms so they could climb higher. Some raiders had already reached the lower tunnels. Below, the river was beginning to creak and crack as the current backed up, flooding the banks. The thick surface ice broke apart.

All Bannon could see was Grieve, king of the Norukai, the leader responsible for so many brutal raids, for causing such incredible pain and misery. Had this man been king when Ian was captured as a boy a dozen years ago? Even if not, Grieve’s predecessor would have been just like him. All Norukai men and women were just like him. Bannon felt a black heat growing hotter and darker within him.

If Nicci or Nathan were here, they could have used wizard’s fire to annihilate all of the attackers at once, but Bannon was just as happy to do this with his own blade. He would draw the blood of the vile raider king.

“You’re the one who will grieve,” Bannon said. In a blinding, surprising rush with Sturdy, he pummeled Grieve, driving the big king to the edge of the platform.

The gangly shaman jumped onto the platform next to him. “My Grieve!”

Barely able to see through his red haze, Bannon swung his sword, intending to chop off the Norukai king’s head, but Grieve ducked. Instead, Sturdy’s sharpened edge sliced through the thick rope that held up one corner of the platform. Suddenly, the wooden base lurched and dropped. Grieve stumbled, let out a rough cry, and slipped. He barely managed to grab the edge as he fell. His nails bit into the wood, holding on to the icy surface. His jaw muscles clenched with the strain, widening the flap of scarred skin on his cheeks.

Bannon slipped, scrambling for purchase as his feet slid out from under him. Grieve grabbed his boot, clutching his ankle with a grip like the jaws of a wolf. The young man kicked and kicked again, catching King Grieve full in the face. The platform swayed.

Lila cried out and slashed with her sword, cutting the throat of yet another Norukai who climbed onto the now-unbalanced platform.

More icicles pattered down the cliff, booming into other chunks and starting an icefall. Water from the frozen sluice began to spray out again as the backed-up current pushed through the blockage.

Bannon smashed his foot into Grieve’s face again. “Die!” The king’s crushed nose spurted blood, but his eyes blazed like firebrands.

“My Grieve!” Chalk screamed, and clawed his way forward, barely able to hold on to the sliding, tilted platform. He grabbed for Grieve, but Bannon swept one leg out to dislodge him, and the scarred shaman tripped and fell over the edge. He shrieked as he dropped toward the lower platforms.

In that instant, Grieve let out a shocked, anguished scream: “Chalk!”

Bannon struck him again, kicking so hard that Grieve’s head snapped back. His grip on Bannon’s boot loosened, and he, too, fell, roaring in anger.

Bannon scrabbled on the icy wood of the tilted platform, trying to hold on. Not far below, he heard a crash as Grieve and the pale shaman slammed into one of the other platforms and the swarms of climbing Norukai. Bannon clawed at the wood, dropping his sword, which slid and clanged off the platform and plunged down the bluff. His hands squeaked on the ice, and wood splinters tore open his fingers, but he couldn’t hold on.

Lila lunged down for him. She seized his wrist, and he grasped her, holding on with all his might, but his hand was covered in blood and water. His skin was slick. She anchored herself by holding one of the ropes, trying to maintain her grip. “Hold me!”

Bannon squeezed, but his fingers slipped. His bloody palm slid through hers, and gravity pulled at him. He couldn’t hold on. He snatched at the edge of the platform as he slid the last few inches.

Lila’s eyes were wide, her face filled with shock and horror and a long, whispered “Nooooo!”

Bannon fell, his fingertips just touching hers for a last instant. He tumbled from the platform, falling past the rough sandstone cliff, seeing the ice, the openings. He tried to grab for something, anything. For a second, he caught the edge of another walkway, but his fingers slipped again and he tumbled through the air.

Unexpectedly he crashed on his back among dozens of bodies—murdered Ildakaran defenders, as well as dead Norukai piled on one of the wide lower platforms. But some of them were still alive, their fall cushioned by the soft flesh. King Grieve was there, as was the white shaman, both of them climbing to their feet. Bannon flailed about, looking for his sword.

Grieve bellowed, “Take him.”

The Norukai closed around him and swallowed him up in a mob of hideous faces.