The Citadel

Chapter 15
The Approaching Battle

Cadrio’s forces under Zander had moved swiftly toward their ultimate destination. The scouts had chosen well. The path was an open yet barely populated stretch that offered little in the way of resistance. Thus far they had overwhelmed a few tiny outposts with minimal effort. Soon they would reach their true prey, the defenders of Gwynned. Even now Zander could make out the rolling landscape that opened into the great city’s territory.

And in those rolling hills, the true battle would be fought.

Zander felt quite comfortable in the role of commander. Zander respected his general, but thought himself the better tactician. He had already deployed his forces for combat, knowing that each passing moment meant a more likely chance of coming across the first resistance.

It was possible that he had already inherited the mantle of command. Zander glanced behind him, where Eclipse, wings folded, still stared, unblinking, at the heavens. Zander had never seen a befuddled dragon before. In halting words, Eclipse had told him what had happened to Murk, a tale that had left even Zander unnerved. The ebony beast seemed at a complete loss without his twin, constantly rubbing his fore-paws together and missing half of what the younger officer told him.

Cadrio had told his second about the black cleric who had served Valkyn, the fearful fool who had evidently died in the making of the floating edifice. Eclipse reminded Zander of that cleric and pointed out once again the folly of defying the mage. If Valkyn offered the young officer the position of general, and perhaps later puppet emperor, then Zander would gladly accept it. The riches and power would certainly assuage his feelings at being at the beck and call of the spellcaster.

To his dismay, however, it proved to be Cadrio rather than Valkyn who suddenly appeared in the midst of battle preparations. The tall, vulpine commander was oddly subdued as he materialized.

Zander quickly saluted the illusion of his commander. “Sir, I took the liberty of advancing as per the mage’s instructions, but we dare go no farther, for the defenders’ troops have been spotted just beyond the hills. They mean to take us when we approach the high ground, keeping the battle far from Gwynned. I have a plan to draw their right flank out and eat away at their lines from there.”

Cadrio blinked, at first not responding. After a moment, he sighed, then said, “You’ll march the men straight ahead, Zander. Keep everything according to Valkyn’s battle plan. No deviations.”

Zander, who had tried to keep his deviations within reason in order not to anger Valkyn, frowned, then nodded. “I understand.”

The general hesitated, as if listening to something. The young officer swallowed. Now that he had been able to study his superior, he saw that Cadrio looked haggard, beaten.

“Hold your lines and keep advancing regardless of the forces you face. Draw out their cavalry if you can, but remain in the open.”

“Sir?” This hadn’t been a part of the black mage’s original battle plan. Zander didn’t like the thought of placing his troops in such a precarious position. With the defenders already settled in, his men would suffer heavy casualties.

From what Zander read in Cadrio’s eyes, the veteran commander clearly thought much the same. Zander finally realized that Cadrio spoke Valkyn’s words, not his own. All pretenses of an alliance had been flung aside. The general lived only with the wizard’s permission.

“When dark clouds cover the battlefield, Zander, you must be prepared. Atriun will strike, but you must be there to purge the land of any remaining resistance. Is that understood?”

Zander swallowed. Saluting, he shouted, “Yes, General!”

“That is all.”

The lanky figure vanished in the same unsettling manner that Valkyn always had.

Putting on his helm, Zander turned to the other officers. “You heard the general! Regroup all forces! Alert all subcommanders of their new instructions. See to it that order is maintained so that this adjustment doesn’t turn into a rout before we’ve even begun to fight. Go!”

The men scattered to obey. Zander, his anxiety and fury masked by his helm, stormed past two minor officers who served as his own aides. He did not stop until he came face-to-face with Eclipse. The dragon eyed him, then looked away, clearly lost again in some inner world.

“Eclipse! Damn you, dragon! Look down here!”

Slowly the behemoth acknowledged him. “Go away, human.”

“I have orders for you and you’ll obey them!”

“I don’t listen to you. I don’t listen to Cadrio anymore.” Eclipse puffed some smoke his way. “Murk is dead.”

Zander bristled. “You’ll be dead, too, if you don’t obey!”

The dragon snorted. “And will you kill me, puny human?”

“No, but if you do not follow Valkyn’s plan, then Valkyn will have no use for you, and you know what the wizard does with those he has no more use for.”

Now he saw fear in the dragon’s eyes, fear drawn from Eclipse’s vision of his twin dropping lifelessly from the sky. The leviathan might be mourning his brother, but he still cared something for his own scaly skin.

“I will obey! I will!” The sight of the black dragon cringing from the distant citadel looked so pitiful that Zander lost some of his fury. Neither he nor Eclipse desired Valkyn’s wrath, even if it meant marching everyone straight into Gwynned’s bristling defenses.

“All right, then. Stick by me. You will be my mount. We’ll coordinate matters with the general and the citadel.”

As he spoke to the dragon, Zander mentally prepared himself for the upcoming battle. Though alive, Cadrio clearly did not have Valkyn’s favor. If Zander could prove himself, then surely the wizard would see who could serve him best, who could be the most useful commander. Why keep untrustworthy Cadrio around when loyal and earnest Zander would do better? Perhaps he could still convince the wizard that he was worthy of the same offer that Valkyn had originally given to the general.

Emperor Zander … he liked the sound of that.

* * * * *

“Now that’s better, isn’t it, my general?”

“Yes, Valkyn.”

The mage smiled at his companion. “Don’t be so sullen, General Cadrio. After all, I did let you live, didn’t I?”

He saw the soldier shiver and knew that he had made his point. The executions of some of Cadrio’s men had been necessary and, at the same time, had allowed Valkyn to test the level of power of Castle Atriun. Yes, Tyros would do well, outlasting not only the taking of Gwynned but also perhaps the next Northern Ergothian city as well. By that time, Valkyn would have made more adjustments in his spellwork and kidnapped another wizard, ensuring that the massive citadel would continue to fly.

The people of Gwynned could have saved themselves much horror if they had surrendered rather than resisted. It would have saved the mage some time. Still, Valkyn looked forward to the upcoming battle, eager to see how Atriun would fare.

At some point, Valkyn would have to turn on his former masters. The Orders of Sorcery would move against him in force, as much out of jealousy as fear, the renegade mage believed. For that, he would need at least two more citadels, one of which he knew he could find in Gwynned.

Valkyn and Cadrio now stood upon the outer wall of Atriun, peering down at the tableau opening up before them. Cadrio’s men-now Valkyn’s-moved with the swiftness and efficiency that had been the essential reasons the wizard had chosen them in the first place. The officer in charge, Zander, seemed particularly adept in his role as ground commander. Perhaps Cadrio would need to be demoted after this battle.…

Ahead, they could make out the defenders’ movements. Valkyn knew that the male gold dragon lived, and because of him, Gwynned would have some notion of the might arrayed against them. In addition to their previous positions, Ergoth’s soldiers had spread out into the hills and valleys, choosing locations wherever they thought they might escape the fury of Valkyn’s castle.

Those new positions would work against them. Where Valkyn could not strike the foe, he would strike at the ground around them. Hills could be turned into weapons, especially when shattered by lightning.

“The regions to the north are hard rock,” Cadrio suddenly commented. “Can your bolts break them up?”

Valkyn’s smile grew genuine. Cadrio had seen what he had in mind. “Of course.”

“That will wreak some havoc on the northern lines,” the commander conceded. He pointed south. “But the soldiers there are entrenched in that rift, and I don’t think your magical lightning will give them much to worry about.”

“You have a suggestion?”

“Use the gargoyles. They fly better than draconians, and their hides are much tougher. Even if they’re hit, there’ll be less damage, less loss. Give them something scalding or heavy to drop on the enemy.”

The wizard looked over the region in question. “And you open up a hole in a very vulnerable part of the defenses! Of course, I could just sail over everything and attack Gwynned myself. That would save time.”

Cadrio grew more bold. “This isn’t Norwych. The city will be harder to take without you destroying what you want. Besides, the Ergothian soldiers will fight on even if Gwynned falls. You’ll be dealing with small but steady battles long after taking the city if you don’t eliminate the vast majority of the army first.”

“You may be emperor yet,” Valkyn commented with a chuckle.

“I’m trying to save my hide.” The general considered further. “The officer. Have you questioned him yet?”

“The opportunity has not yet arisen. Present matters and past interruptions have kept me too busy, as you should know.”

“He knows more about the defenses than either of us. Those catapults, for one thing. Have you considered their range and what they might toss at you? I saw a citadel set aflame by some sort of alchemical soup. Burned the very stone.”

Valkyn congratulated himself on not disposing of his ally as he had originally intended. “You raise a good point, my general.”

The wizard snapped his fingers, and although the glove should have muffled the tone, one creature evidently heard it. Crag fluttered down from the highest point of the castle, alighting near his master.

“Crag, loyal Crag, I’ve a simple task for you.”

“I obey always …” the gargoyle rumbled.

“Bring me the remaining soldiers, Crag-alive and in one piece, please.” The cheerful mage steepled his fingers. In capturing the Ergothian officer and his band, Crag had not held his fellow gargoyles in check, the result being that some of the prisoners had been pummeled to death. Only Captain Bakal and two others survived, and all three sported wounds. Valkyn generally admired enthusiasm, but not in this particular case.

Crag bobbed his head up and down. “As Maaaster says.”

As the winged monster flew away, Valkyn said, “He is simple, but loyal … unlike poor Stone.” He saw that his remark touched a nerve in Cadrio. “When one crosses me, my general, one must be prepared to be punished, as you know.”

“What have you done with the beast?”

Valkyn’s smile grew. “Clipped his wings.”

“Clipped his wings? What do you mean by that?”

“Exactly what I said. Exactly.”

“But that would mean …” Cadrio clamped his mouth shut, understanding having dawned at last.

Valkyn’s gaze returned to the shifting armies below. Soon, very soon, the battle would be joined. From here, the soldiers looked like tiny pieces in a game of strategy, pieces that the wizard looked forward to moving.

“Yes, a shame, really, that gargoyles have no feathers. A shame for Stone, anyway …”

* * * * *

The gargoyle did not scream, nor did he even snarl. Instead, he lay in a miserable heap, neck and limbs secured by glowing manacles clearly resistant to both his strength and his meager magic. It was questionable whether bonds were really needed, as the gargoyle seemed to no longer have any will. The red orbs had lost their fire, and the claws scratched absently at the stone floor. Even the arrival of an unexpected visitor did not arouse him from his stupor.

In such a condition did Rapp come across Stone.

He hadn’t searched for the gargoyle, but his path, after a couple of very interesting but hardly useful detours, had led him past this area. At first his discovery of the gargoyle had cheered him, for Stone surely knew where to find Tyros, but then Rapp had realized that something terrible bothered the creature, something worse than just captivity.

“Stone!” Rapp whispered. “Stone, it’s me, Rapp. I knew you didn’t betray us. I knew something happened to you. Don’t you worry, though, I’ll get you out of there!”

The gargoyle slowly lifted his head. He blinked once, then quietly hissed, “Go away.”

“But I want to rescue you! Then you can help me find Tyros, and after that Taggi and my other griffons.”

Stone looked away. “Want to die …”

“If you help me, we can all get out of here, and then Valkyn won’t have anything to power his castle, and it’ll drop in the sea or on some mountain peak!”

Some bit of life returned to the gargoyle as his rage took over. “Go away! Want to die!”

“Why would you want to-”

The leathery creature rose, snarling. The crimson eyes flashed. The massive wings stretched-or would have if anything remained of them.

“Oh … Oh!” For once, Rapp had been struck speechless.

“Seeee? Seeee?” Stone twisted around, the better to show the kender what had been done to him. Of his once proud wings, only sore, red stubs, about a foot in length, remained. The rest had been seared away.

“Oh, my!” Rapp finally managed. “Did Valkyn do that? … Of course he did. What a stupid question! Does it hurt much?”

Stone chuckled, a somber, defeated sound. “Pain is nothing. Master knows that. That is why Master took wings.…”

The small figure swallowed. To gargoyles, flight was considered as much a natural part of their existence as eating or sleeping. Rapp tried to imagine not having the nimble hands that enabled him to open locks or investigate interesting containers or pockets. What a horrible existence that would be!

“I’m sorry, Stone.” The gargoyle paid him no more mind having returned to a sitting position. Rapp remained silent for a moment, then asked, “Stone, if you don’t want my help, could you at least answer a question for me? It’s real important. Do you know where Tyros is being held?”

With little interest, the gargoyle pointed down the corridor in the direction that the kender had been heading. “There.”

“Thank you.” Rapp stepped away, then hesitated, unwilling to leave Stone in such a condition. Even if the creature no longer cared what happened to himself, Rapp had to do something.

The lock on the cell door opened easily. Rapp approached Stone, who paid him no attention. Even when the kender looked over the glowing manacles, Stone only glanced up once in disinterest.

The manacles themselves were simple, but what surprised Rapp was that the spell on them seemed to be no impediment against lock picking. Valkyn had evidently only worried about the gargoyle’s magic, not the fact that someone might simply unlock the bonds. Even when Rapp toyed with the mechanism, nothing happened. It was almost disappointing.

With practiced skill, the kender opened the first manacle, then watched in frustration as Stone simply let the freed limb drop to the floor. Undaunted, Rapp worked on the rest. Stone sat still through the entire process, looking as miserable as ever and not a bit grateful.

“Come on, Stone! You can’t stay here. If they find you, they’ll just lock you up again.”

“Cannot fly …”

“You could ride one of the griffons … I think.” Rapp didn’t know if they would accept a gargoyle as a rider, but he could think of nothing else. If not for what had happened to Serene, he might have suggested Stone go to the cleric for help. “After all, she’s a cleric of Branchala, who watches over animals, and I suppose a gargoyle might count for that,” he mused out loud. “Maybe she could have even made him new wings.”

Stone suddenly stirred. “New wings?”

“Well, as a cleric, she probably could have, but-”

“New wings!” The leathery monster jumped up, all trace of his earlier lethargy gone. “Yesss …”

“Now, just a minute! I said she could have, but Valkyn cast a spell on her that-”

Stone no longer listened. The fiery orbs blazed. The gargoyle’s claws flexed in anticipation. Even the two burned stubs twitched, as if he already sought to test the new wings he hoped to receive. “Yesss … the cleric …”

“Stone!” Rapp chased after him, but the gargoyle moved with incredible speed, rushing out of the cell and down the corridor in the opposite direction the kender needed to go. Rapp paused, unwilling to follow any farther. He had a more important mission. The kender only prayed that by releasing Stone he hadn’t ruined that mission. Somehow Rapp doubted that the gargoyle would be able to keep his escape secret long if he went charging down every hall searching for Serene.

What would Stone do once he discovered that the cleric couldn’t even help herself, let alone the gargoyle?

Rapp had no time to ponder that. He hurried on down the corridor the opposite way, following Stone’s vague direction and hoping he would discover Tyros soon.

The halls here were not lit by glowing crystals, but rather a few torches spread intermittently along the walls. For humans, the hallways would have been dark and gloomy. Not only could the kender see well, but he also enjoyed the spooky effect given off by the flickering flames. Rapp imagined wonderfully scary ghosts and creatures inhabiting the castle, perhaps even the spirit of the Solamnic Knight who had built Atriun in the first-

A figure seemingly made of shadow loomed over him, reaching out with one bony but strong-looking hand.

Rapp backed away just in time. Under the heavy robe, vacant eyes stared at the kender, sending an exciting chill through the tiny intruder. Rapp knew that he had to be close to his goal; otherwise, this unliving sentry would not have appeared so suddenly. Some invisible spell must have alerted the creature … at least, that would have been how the kender would have designed the trap.

Pulling his slingshot free, Rapp thrust a round stone into the sling, then let loose. His aim proved true. The missile scored a direct hit on the forehead of the ghoulish servant. Unfortunately, it bounced off without any noticeable effect.

“Oh, dear.” Backing away farther, the kender drew a dagger … not his own, but one that somehow had slipped from Bakal’s belt into his. For the smaller Rapp, the dagger nearly served as a short sword. He waved the weapon at the shadow servant, who hesitated. So, blades did worry them. Feeling more daring, Rapp thrust it forward, trying to drive the unliving guardian back.

A hand seized the dagger by the blade. Thick black fluid spread from where the blade cut into dead flesh, but the ghoulish sentry remained undeterred. With strength belying its emaciated form, the creature tore the dagger from Rapp’s grip, dropping it on the floor. The other hand again sought the kender’s throat.

Rapp looked around for a weapon and noticed the torch nearest him. Whoever mounted it had been ignorant of kender needs and so had set the torches too high. That left the annoyed kender with nothing more to do but keep retreating, not at all a proper course of action.

And even that course of action vanished as another of the grotesque undead came at him from behind.

“Now, this really isn’t fair!” The shadow servants, though, didn’t care about fairness. The second one reached out skeletal fingers, seeking Rapp’s topknot. The kender pulled away, wincing as a few strands of hair were torn free.

Flattening himself against the wall, Rapp again looked at the torch. A metal ring also held the torch in its niche, which meant that the odds of knocking one free with his sling were minimal. For Rapp to reach the torch, he would have had to grow another two feet.

Or …

Rapp studied the two approaching undead, trying to judge which was most suitable for his plan. While neither much appealed to him, the one to his right was positioned best. All the kender had to do was wait a second or two more … and hope his plan worked as well as it sounded to him.

One step. Another step.

His chance came at last.

The small figure suddenly charged the nearest hooded ghoul, leaping at the last moment. Caught unaware, the pale horror reacted slowly, enabling Rapp to use his adversary’s arms to climb up. As the shadow servant’s grip tightened around Rapp’s torso, the inventive kender took hold of the torch.

He gasped as thin, bony limbs tried to crush his breath from him. Rapp brought the torch down toward the drawn countenance of his foe, setting the hood on fire. The dead face revealed no shock, but the shadow servant released him and tried to put the flames out. Instead, the sleeves of his robe caught fire.

The other attacker paid little heed to his companion’s troubles, reaching again for the kender’s topknot. Rapp twisted and thrust the torch at the groping hand. The shadow servant pulled back singed fingers. Although they had some sense of self-preservation, they clearly did not feel pain, for despite the blackened appendage, the ghoul lunged forward once more.

Stepping away, Rapp nearly collided with his first adversary, who, even though his entire form was now ablaze, seemed more concerned with seizing the kender. Rapp ducked under fiery arms, then rolled past. He came up behind the burning figure and, with careful aim, kicked.

The blazing ghoul stumbled forward, falling into the arms of the other creature. Flames spread over the hands and sleeves of the second. The first tried to rise but collapsed again. This time it remained still.

With effort, the remaining ghoul abandoned the other and tried to pursue Rapp. However, the shadow servant’s steps were ragged, undirected. The hooded figure collided with one wall, then the other. Rapp used the confusion to further set the creature aflame, and in moments the second servant had turned into a fiery inferno.

Still reaching for the kender, the robed horror dropped to the floor. Flames quickly consumed what was left.

Rapp wrinkled his nose at the stench. Despite his victory, the kender felt a bit sad. These had once been men, albeit men who had died long ago. He had not killed men, only the abominations someone else had made of their corpses.

And that brought his attention back to Tyros.

A short distance down the corridor, Rapp at last came across two large doors that surely had to be the ones leading to the mage. As if to verify that, a cry from within shook the kender to his very being. He recognized Tyros’s voice and recognized also the intense agony the human suffered.

To Rapp’s surprise, the doors weren’t locked. With some caution, he pushed one open and peered inside.

The kender’s eyes widened.

Valkyn’s creation towered over Rapp, nearly touching the high ceiling of the chamber. The twin marble columns were thicker than the trunks of the mightiest trees, and upon them were etched symbols and words of magic that seemed to squirm with life of their own. Above each was positioned a huge crystal that blazed like a miniature sun.

To his surprise, Rapp discovered that he was not so fascinated by the arcane device as he was repulsed. It felt evil. Rapp had never come across anything that actually felt evil, and he would have expected such a discovery to fill him with excitement. Instead, just looking at it made the kender shiver, especially seeing what it had done to the helpless wizard chained to it.

Tyros looked haggard, his skin pale and drawn. The mage’s hair had turned partially gray. He was thinner, too, his robe hanging loose. Tyros slumped as low as his chains would allow.

The great crystals suddenly flared. Raw energy crackled between them. Tyros screamed.

A bolt of energy shot toward the ceiling, flowing through it as if the stone and wood did not exist.

The glow around the crystals subsided again. The captive mage groaned, falling forward. He looked older, more worn.

Rapp surveyed the chamber and saw that other than Tyros and himself, it was empty. The kender noted a stool near one table. Finding a place to put the torch, Rapp grabbed the stool and rushed over to the captive. Tyros looked up as he neared, and although surprise momentarily flashed in his eyes, he didn’t look at all hopeful.

“Don’t worry. I’ll set you free!”

The mage started to say something, but his words twisted suddenly into renewed screaming. The sound hurt Rapp’s ears. He couldn’t let Tyros suffer any longer. His best lockpick in hand, the kender positioned the stool, and climbed up so that he could reach the glowing manacle binding Tyros’s left wrist. The manacle looked identical to the ones that had secured Stone, which gave Rapp every confidence that he would soon have his friend released.

Tyros suddenly jerked his wrist away, at the same time blurting, “N-No!”

He screamed again, leaving the kender to stand there, frustrated. How could he help the mage if Tyros did contrary things like that? Didn’t he realize that Rapp had to work fast to rescue him?

Once more Rapp reached for the manacle, Tyros again pulled his wrist out of reach.

Confused and annoyed, the small figure glared at his friend. “Tyros, it’s me, Rapp. Stop doing that so I can get you free!”

Gritting his teeth, his eyes tearing, Tyros forced the words out: “Manacles … magic! If you touch … you’ll die!”

The mage slumped forward. Rapp stared at Tyros, then at the manacle. He had opened the ones holding the gargoyle without incident, but the mage said these were different. Valkyn must have put a potent spell on them, not wanting to take any chance of someone removing his fellow wizard.

Rapp swallowed, feeling uncommonly dismayed. If he couldn’t unlock the manacles, then how could he free Tyros? And if he couldn’t free Tyros, how could any of them hope to escape?