The Citadel

Chapter 16
A Prayer Answered

From the battlements of Atriun, Bakal watched the defenders and invaders maneuver themselves in preparation for the battle. He tried his best to keep his despair hidden from his captors. With Castle Atriun at full strength and no dragons to protect the city, Gwynned would surely fall. First, though, the wizard and the general wanted to make certain that no outside resistance remained. Those defenders that survived the citadel’s attack from above would be annihilated, driven into the swords of their foes.

“Many will die,” Cadrio reminded him. “The longer the battle, the more deaths. You can save a number of lives, Captain. Give us specifics on Gwynned’s strengths, and we can end this battle swiftly. Minimal losses. Men can go back to their wives and children … if they also acknowledge their new master, of course.”

The general seemed very eager for results, and from the glances the man gave the wizard, Bakal gathered that Cadrio wanted desperately to please Valkyn. However, the scarred veteran would be damned if he would help the villain do that. “There’s nothing I can tell you.”

“If not you, then perhaps one of them.” He pointed at the two remaining soldiers. Galan, the younger of the pair, leaned heavily against Korbius, a veteran like Bakal. As with Bakal, the two men had been released from their bonds, but their captors hardly feared that they would try anything. Korbius’s leg had been torn open by the gargoyles, leaving him unable to run. As for young Galan, he could barely stand and, if the captain were any judge of neck wounds, slipped nearer to death with each passing moment.

“We’ll not betray our home and our kin,” dark-skinned Korbius muttered. Galan nodded agreement, unable to say anything.

“Then we’ve no use for either of you,” the wizard suddenly announced. He had been quiet for the most part, letting Cadrio do the questioning. Now, despite his disinterested expression, he had evidently run out of patience. “Crag, eliminate them.”

The monstrous gargoyle turned toward Korbius and Galan.

“No! Wait!” Bakal started for the beast, but two sentries in black, men as nervous as Cadrio seemed, held him in place.

The winged beast hissed. Korbius put young Galan behind him, then brought up both fists, but Bakal knew how little good those hands would be against the hard hide of Crag.

The soldier swung, striking the gargoyle in the beak. Korbius grimaced at the pain, but Crag easily shrugged off the blow. With fiendish glee, the eager gargoyle fluttered high above the pair, then quickly dropped down on them, talons extended.

Korbius put his hands up, trying to hold the murderous creature off, but Crag’s sheer weight brought the humans to the ground. Galan struck his head and lay still. The older soldier struggled in vain to keep the toothy jaws from his throat.

Bakal turned his gaze away as Crag’s claws and teeth swiftly ended the horrible, one-sided struggle.

“That’ll be enough, Crag,” Valkyn finally commanded. To the human guards holding Bakal, he added, “Show him the price for not cooperating.”

They forced his gaze back to the mangled bodies. Bakal barely managed to keep the contents of his stomach down. Crag had clearly thrown himself into his task. Even now the horrific gargoyle perched nearby, licking his blood-soaked paws clean. The creature looked up at him and gave what seemed a macabre imitation of the wizard’s own mocking smile.

“This is what fate awaits your kin below,” Valkyn calmly stated. “I’d rather not see such bloodshed if we can do this properly. You could save lives by cutting short the battle. Tell us about the catapults, the intentions of the commanders, and where the weakest links in the lines likely are.”

Bakal couldn’t betray his people. “You must be joking. You’ll have to fight to win your prize, spellcaster.”

Cadrio reached for his knife. “Let me begin on him, Valkyn.”

Before the goateed wizard could decide, a noise from below caught the attention of everyone.

“What was that?” Valkyn demanded.

The general turned from Bakal, gazing over the edge. “It’s the Ergothians. They’ve decided not to wait. They’re on the move!”

Sure enough, the defenders had decided not to wait any longer for Valkyn’s forces. The noise those in Atriun had heard were the sounds of catapults launching their deadly missiles. Even as Bakal and the others watched, the first missiles struck.

Massive boulders flew through the sky. Simple but very deadly, they shot unerringly toward the enemy. With the catapults positioned on higher ground, the defenders gained even more distance on their shots. The stone missiles dropped into the first ranks of the invaders, wreaking havoc.

Even as the enemy struggled to maintain position, a huge form emerged from the hills, wending its way toward Gwynned’s foes.

Sunfire.

Initially cheered by the sight, Bakal realized quickly that the dragon had suffered greatly from his previous encounter with the citadel. Sunfire moved more slowly than usual and, with one wing in tatters, clearly would never fly again. Still, a dragon on the ground, especially a gold one, could spell disaster for the enemy soldiers.

“Our men will be decimated unless something is done!” Cadrio snapped.

“And do something we will, General.” Pulling out the crystal wand, Valkyn turned his gaze toward the central tower.

At that moment, an incredible force shook Atriun.

The fortress moved as if struck by an earthquake. Atriun tipped forward, forcing everyone to grab hold of whatever was handy or be tossed over the side. One of Bakal’s guards lost his grip and fell over the battlements, screaming. Crag abandoned his roost, opting for the safety of the sky.

All but forgotten in the chaos, Bakal saw his one chance. As the citadel began to right itself, he pushed his remaining guard at Cadrio. Bakal had hoped to send both of them over the wall, but the general threw himself to the side. As the second guard tumbled to his death, Captain Bakal raced to the inner edge of the walkway.

The steps were too far away, but not so the flat roof of the stables. Taking a deep breath, Bakal jumped.

The roof creaked ominously but held his weight. Bakal ran along the roof even as a shadow swept over him-Crag, come to reclaim the Ergothian for his master.

The boards beneath Bakal’s feet suddenly cracked. Before the captain knew what was happening, he fell through, dropping into the old building. Above him, he heard the flutter of wings and knew that Crag had just barely missed catching his prey.

Bakal landed on some old sacks, which split apart, spilling dried feed grain. Coughing from the dust, the soldier pushed himself up and looked around. A few rusted implements caught his expert eye, especially a hand scythe.

A manic force crashed against the doors. Bakal heard a roar that could only have come from Crag.

Both doors went flying as the huge gargoyle threw himself at them again. The captain took hold of the hand scythe.

With a savage roar, the gargoyle flew at Bakal.

The soldier brought the scythe around just as Crag fell upon him. The curved blade caught the monster across the muzzle. Only Captain Bakal’s experience and strength enabled the rusting blade to dig into the hard, leathery skin.

Dark blood splattered Bakal, and he had the satisfaction of hearing Crag howl in pain. The soldier kicked with all the force he could muster, sending the gargoyle falling backward into a pile of rotting bridles and wagon gear.

Knowing that the scythe wouldn’t serve him well enough to slay the monster, Captain Bakal dashed past the gargoyle and out the doors. Even though he knew that Crag would soon be on his trail again, Bakal had only one thing on his mind. With Valkyn occupied with the battle and most of the gargoyles in flight, the Wind Captain’s Chair would be less defended. This time Bakal would be ready for the traps on the stairs.

This time Bakal would make it to the top even if it killed him.

* * * * *

Cadrio glanced back and saw the desperate figure racing into the castle. “Your pet gargoyle hasn’t done a very good job, Valkyn. The Ergothian’s inside the castle!”

“He’s probably heading to the tower again.” To the wizard, one soldier meant nothing. He saw Bakal as no threat; what could the man do? Still, best not to leave anything to chance. “Deal with him, then, General. I prefer to keep matters tidy, which seems at the moment beyond Crag’s capabilities.”

Even as he said it, the gargoyle flew into sight, searching for his prey. He headed toward the castle, but at the last moment turned right, vanishing into the wooded garden.

“Fool of a beast!” the general said with some satisfaction. Cadrio drew his sword, then turned to the mage. “What about Crag? Will he attack me, too?”

“Crag knows I suffer you to live for now, General Cadrio. He’ll not touch a hair on your head if he knows what serves him best. If necessary, slay him. I’m growing less fond of gargoyles; they either turn incompetent or traitorous. Perhaps I could capture some kyrie next time and turn them to my purposes. For avians, they’ve always seemed an intelligent race.”

“You want the Ergothian alive?”

Valkyn pursed his lips. “No … we’re past needing him.” A sound from below, one that both men knew to be that of a catapult launching its missile, made the black mage smile. “Run along now. I must concentrate my full efforts on Gwynned, so you’ll need to rely on your own resources and ingenuity. Be quick about it, though. I may have need for you here shortly.”

As Cadrio dashed toward the steps, Valkyn returned his attention to the battle below. More catapults had gone into action, and from where he stood, the wizard could see that they would strike his own forces with tremendous accuracy. The defenders were good-very good. The quake that had shaken Atriun and allowed the prisoner to flee had been the result of an exceptional shot that had struck the underside of the citadel. Valkyn had taken the citadel higher now, so there would be no repeat of that incident.

Now it was his turn.

Still holding the wand, he clasped his gloved hands together almost gleefully. “Well, then!” he whispered to the unknowing masses below. “Shall we show you true power?”

He held up the wand, briefly caressing the crystal on top. So much magic, and all his to control …

The clouds rumbled and spread. A flash of lightning paid homage to its master. Valkyn smiled at the quickly darkening sky, then peered down at the hills where the enemy catapults stood.

“Yes. You’ll make a most suitable first target.…”

The wand glowed.

* * * * *

Music from thin air.

Serene’s heart leaped at the heavenly sounds. Her prayers had been answered. The Bard King had not abandoned her. Serene sang and played, rejoicing in the sensation of goodness that filled her.

The doors to her chamber flew open. Serene’s song faltered as a gargoyle leaped inside, eyes burning bright. She rose from the bed, certain that Valkyn had sent this creature to stop her.

Then Serene noticed that the gargoyle had no wings, only two burned stubs.

“Cleric!” he growled. “Help me fly!”

Why would one of Valkyn’s monsters ask for her aid, knowing that their master wouldn’t approve? Suddenly a thought struck her.

“Stone?”

The gargoyle’s head dipped. “Stone … yes …”

What had happened to his wings? Had he been in some terrible accident? “Did Valkyn do that to you?”

The head dipped again. “The master …”

Her role as cleric took over. “Come to me.”

He obeyed, falling to one knee so that she could inspect the damage. Valkyn had been monstrously thorough, of course. He could always be trusted for that. Serene couldn’t believe the callousness with which he treated life. How had he kept such darkness hidden from her … or had she kept it hidden from herself?

“Can make better?” the gargoyle asked.

Serene had healed the wounds and injuries of animals several times, but none this severe. Could she grow Stone new wings? Could any cleric perform such a miracle?

There was only one way to find out. If Branchala willed it so, it would happen.

She placed her hands on the burned stubs. In the past, her prayers for such efforts had been in the form of soft, nurturing melodies, songs that urged growth and renewal. Best that she keep with what had worked best for her.

“Branchala, hear my plea for this unfortunate creature,” Serene began. Outside, thunder and lightning punctuated her request, sending a shiver through her. The ungodly storm reminded her that others faced terrible danger. Yet, for now, Serene didn’t know what to do for them. She couldn’t very well face down Valkyn’s storm.

Her hands felt pleasantly warm, like a wonderful spring day. Again the cleric became caught up in her song, in her devotion to her god. Branchala would aid her if he saw the right of her task; if not, then he had his reasons. She would not question them.

Stone suddenly bent over and began moaning. Serene forced herself to continue, her words accompanied by music that flowed from within her. She hoped her deity would see Stone not as a monster, but rather a poor creature who had tried not only to free his own people, but to aid her and her companions as well. Surely he deserved a better fate.

Stone hissed. Serene stepped away. The gargoyle’s stubs glowed green, the green of the forest. They also looked much larger, with small areas of leathery skin growing from them. The appendages twisted, spread, taking on a familiar form.

Stone had wings again.

Pathetically small, they looked nonetheless fit. Still, Serene did not cease her efforts. She threw herself more into her devotions, already thanking Branchala for what he had done but asking if, in his heart, he could do a bit more.

And the wings grew.…

In a heartbeat, they doubled in size, then doubled again. Stone continued to groan, but not with pain. He seemed to be putting forth an effort of his own, as if the Bard King insisted that the gargoyle, too, be responsible for what he had asked of the cleric.

At last the leathery creature rose, stretching new, magnificent wings. Not only did they look larger, more grand, but so did the gargoyle himself. Serene marveled at what she had accomplished. Stone extended his claws and tested his wings again. The pupilless orbs flared bright red.

He turned to the cleric, who briefly wondered whether she had made a fatal mistake in judgment. However, Stone fell to his knees, placing his muzzle on the floor just before her feet. He folded his wings and extended the back of his neck for her to see, a sign of deference.

“Mistress, thank you.”

“Please don’t thank me,” she returned, although a slight bit of pride touched her. “I’m but a vessel for the Bard King.”

Stone clearly did not see the distinction. If the power came through Serene, then she had to be the one to thank.

“Cleric is greater than Master,” he replied.

Greater? If true, then she would not be trapped here, helpless, while Valkyn and his citadel literally rained down destruction upon the Ergothians. Even Rapp had seen her as less than an asset when it had come to mounting a rescue of Tyros.

And yet she had helped Stone gain his new wings. Of course, that had been in great part due to the Bard King, who, though his greatest spheres of influence lay over the forest and weather, also watched over animals, which apparently included gargoyles. If only …

“The weather …” Serene suddenly murmured. “The weather …”

The cleric glanced outside, where the unnatural storm had begun to blow in earnest. If Valkyn had not already struck at the defenders of Gwynned, he would in the next few moments.

“Branchala, please forgive me for the madness I’m about to ask of you.” She considered the gargoyle. “Stone, please close the hallway doors.” Serene couldn’t afford to be disturbed. “Stone, is your flock willing to fight for their freedom?”

A look of great anticipation spread across the monstrous features. “Yes … oh, yesss …”

“If I succeed at what I’m about to attempt, they must be ready to do so. However, I must first make you promise that they’ll also watch out for my friends.”

“Will do that.”

Serene looked around. She hated sending the gargoyle away, but he needed to spread the word. Still, with Valkyn busy, the cleric hoped to have time to complete her plan before anyone realized she was responsible. “You’d better go now. May the blessing of the Bard King be with you, Stone.”

“Have wings again,” the creature replied. He gave the cleric one last appreciative look, then trotted out to the balcony. Serene watched in admiration as the gargoyle spread his new wings. Stone dived from the rail, then soared into the air.

“And now it’s up to you and me, Branchala.” Seating herself on the bed once more, Serene took up the same position she had earlier. If the music came when her fingers played, the cleric would know that she had a chance to succeed … which did not mean that she would. Even the Bard King would only do so much for her. “But this is for more than just me, my lord.”

Serene began to strum the air, at first hearing nothing. Yet when she started to sing softly, tender notes accompanied her. As her voice found strength, those notes increased in strength, too. The woodland god was with her … so far.

The cleric turned her gaze to the baleful storm and sang louder.

* * * * *

“Hold your ranks, damn it!” Zander roared as the first missiles struck. “Hold them together!”

The officers did their best to keep the lines intact and in position, but the wizard’s primitive battle plan kept the frontlines too much in the open and too large a target. Zander would have realigned most of the left flank, but any alteration had been forbidden. He had to make do with what Valkyn allowed, however murderous that turned out to be.

“Can we fly now?” Eclipse snapped. “They come too close!”

For once, Zander had to agree with him. “All right. Take to the air!”

With clear relief, the black leviathan leaped into the sky, nearly unseating Zander from his back in the process. The young officer made no remark, though, more interested in what happened below. From the sky, the situation looked more bleak than he had thought. Gwynned’s forces had arranged themselves to the best tactical advantage, with catapults positioned on well-defended hills that gave them a view of his entire army. Archers set lower down on the hills made certain that those who avoided the missiles ran straight into their deadly fire, after which cavalry harassed the survivors. Zander’s men were open targets no matter where they were, and it was a wonder he had managed to keep them from routing. It looked like certain victory for the Ergothians.

Thunder rumbled, causing Zander to smile for the first time. Certain victory … if not for the flying citadel.

Those manning the two catapults situated on a hill to the southwest likely never knew what hit them. The first bolt, a massive, jagged monster, flew unerringly toward its unwitting target. One moment, the men and their weapons stood untouched. The next … nothing but shattered bits and smoke remained.

Zander laughed, admiring the mage’s handiwork. Eclipse joined in the mirth, ever pleased to see others suffer.

“We attack?” the dragon cried.

“No, we hold back. This hour belongs to Valkyn!” And he was welcome to it. There would be plenty for Zander’s men to do once Castle Atriun had destroyed the defenders.

“I see the gold!” hissed Eclipse. “Look there!”

The gold dragon moved along the ground just beyond the hills, harrying the advance troops still caught out in the open. Zander studied the beast, noticing the ruined wings. “He can’t fly.”

“Good! The better to kill. I want to kill!” Battle would keep the ebony dragon from thinking about his twin.

A second and third bolt struck.

The first of the pair tore apart more of the catapults, leaving a blackened hole and mangled bodies. The second wreaked still more havoc on the Ergothian troops. As Zander watched, a fourth lightning bolt struck behind the defenders’ front lines, forcing many of the Ergothians out into the open. Two more quick and deadly strikes behind them sent the startled warriors directly into the waiting arms of the invaders.

“Now!” Zander shouted. “Now!”

His men couldn’t hear him, of course, but the officers on the ground nonetheless took advantage of the chaos, setting their troops loose on the desperate defenders. Valkyn’s plan had worked. Already Gwynned’s front lines were in disarray. Zander nodded in satisfaction as the first swords of both armies met, the clash audible even from this high vantage point.

Only Eclipse found no satisfaction with events. A thousand men might die, but the dragon only had eyes for one thing.

“I want the gold male!”

Zander considered. With Atriun striking with the power of the storm, nothing could stand in the way of the invaders. Yes, it was time for a little glory of his own.

“All right,” Zander shouted, drawing his sword. “We’ll take the golden male, but I command the attack!”

“So long as I taste his blood and feel his death!”

The black dragon dived, roaring. Sunfire looked skyward, saw the danger, and roared his own challenge.

The battle began in earnest.