Domes of Fire Part 25

Sparhawk stood at the top of the hill surveying the progress of the work below. The ladies were gathered under a broad canopy erected on poles in the centre of the depressed basin on the hilltop. Stragen was strumming his lute and singing to them in his deep rich voice.

'How's it going down there?' Talen asked, coming up to where Sparhawk stood.

'It's about as secure as Khalad can make it without being obvious about it,' Sparhawk replied.

'He's awfully good, isn't he?' Talen said with a certain pride.

'Your brother? Oh, yes. Your father trained him very well.'

'It might have been nice to grow up with my brothers. Talen sounded a bit wistful. He shrugged. 'But then...' he peered out at the forest. 'Any word from Engessa?'

'Our friends are still out there.'

'They're going to attack, aren't they?'

'Probably. You don't gather that many armed men in one place without having something military in mind.'

'I like your plan here, Sparhawk, but I think it's got a hole in it.'

'Oh?'

'Once they finally realise that we aren't going to move from this spot, they might decide to wait and then come at us after dark. Fighting at night's a lot different from doing it in the daytime, isn't it?'

'Usually, yes, but we'll cheat.' Talen gave him a quizzical look. 'There are a couple of spells that brighten things up when you need to see.'

'I keep forgetting about that.'

'You might as well get used to it, Talen,' Sparhawk told him with a faint smile. 'When we get back home, you're going to start your novitiate.'

'When did we decide that?'

'Just now. You're old enough, and if you keep on growing the way you have been lately, you'll be big enough.'

'Is magic hard to learn?'

'You have to pay attention. It's all done in Styric, and Styric's a tricky language. If you use the wrong word, all sorts of things can go wrong.'

'Thanks, Sparhawk. That's all I need-something else to worry about.'

'We'll talk with Sephrenia when we get to Sarsos. Maybe she'll agree to train you. Flute likes you, so she'll forgive you if you make any mistakes.'

'What's Flute got to do with it?'

'If Sephrenia trains you, you'll be submitting your requests to Aphrael.'

'Requests?'

'That's what magic is, Talen. You ask a G.o.d to do something for you.'

'Praying?' the boy asked incredulously.

'Sort of.'

'Does Emban know that you're praying to a Styric G.o.ddess!'

'More than likely. The Church chooses to ignore the fact, though-for practical reasons.'

'He's a hypocrite then.'

'I wouldn't mention that to Emban, if I were you.'

'Let me get this straight. If I get to be a Church Knight, I'll be worshipping Flute?'

'Praying to her, Talen. I didn't say anything about worshipping.'

'Praying, worshipping, what's the difference?'

'Sephrenia will explain it.'

'She's in Sarsos, you say?'

'I didn't say that.' Sparhawk silently cursed his careless tongue.

'Yes, as a matter of fact you did.'

'All right, but keep it to yourself.'

'That's why we came overland, isn't it?'

'One of the reasons, yes. Haven't you got something else to do?'

'Not really, no.'

'Go find something-because if you don't, I will.'

'You don't have to get all huffy.' Sparhawk gave him a steady stare. 'All right, all right, don't get excited. I'll go entertain Danae and her cat.'

Sparhawk stood watching the boy as he returned to the festivities under the canopy. It was obviously time to start being a little careful around Talen. He was dangerously intelligent, and a slip of the tongue might give away things that were supposed to be kept private. The discussion had raised an issue, however. Sparhawk went back to the group gathered on the hilltop and took Berit aside.

'Go tell the knights that if those people out there decide to wait until after dark to attack, I'll take care of giving us light to work by. If we all try to do it at the same time, we might confuse things.'

Berit nodded. Sparhawk considered it further. 'And I'll go talk with Kring and Engessa,' he added. 'We don't want the Atans and the Peloi going into a panic if the sky suddenly lights up along about midnight tonight.'

'Is that what you're going to do?' Berit asked.

'It usually works out about the best in cases like this. One big light's easier to control than several hundred little ones-and it disrupts the enemy's concentration a lot more.'

Berit grinned. 'It would be a little startling to be creeping through the bushes and have the sun come back up again, wouldn't it?'

'A lot of battles have been averted by lighting up the night, Berit, and a battle averted is sometimes even better than one you win.'

'I'll remember that, Sparhawk.'

The afternoon wore on, and the party on the hilltop became a little strained. There were only so many things to laugh at, and only so many jokes to tell. The warriors round the base of the hill either spent their time attending to equipment or pretending to sleep.

Out near the road, Sparhawk met with the others about mid-afternoon. 'If they don't know by now that we aren't going any further today, they aren't very bright,' Kalten noted.

'We do look a bit settled in, don't we?' Ulath agreed.

'A suggestion, Sparhawk?' Tynian offered.

'Why do you always say that?'

'Habit, I suppose. I was taught to be polite to my elders. Even the best of spells isn't going to give us the same kind of light we'll have before the sun goes down. We know they're out there, we're in position and we're rested. Why don't we push things a bit? If we can force them to attack now, we can fight them in daylight.'

'How are you going to make somebody attack when he doesn't want to?' Patriarch Emban asked.

'We start making obvious preparations, your Grace,' Tynian replied. 'It's logical to start on the field fortifications about now anyway. Let's put up the palisade around the foot of the hill, and start digging ditches.'

'And felling trees,' Ulath added. 'We could clear away some avenues leading out into the woods and pile the tree trunks up where they'll hinder anybody trying to come through the forest. If they're going to attack, let's make them attack across open ground.'

It took a surprisingly short time. The logs for the fence around the base of the hill were already sharpened and stacked in neat piles where they were handy. Digging them in was an easy matter. The birch trees in the forest were all no more than ten inches thick at the base, and they fell quickly to the axes of the warriors and were dragged into the surrounding forest to form large, jumbled piles which would be virtually impossible to penetrate, even for men on foot. Sparhawk and the others went back up to the hilltop to survey their preparations.

'Why don't they attack us now, before we're ready?' Emban tensely asked the knights.

'Because it takes time to organise an attack, your Grace,' Bevier explained. 'The scouts have to run back and tell the generals what we're doing, the generals have to sneak through the woods to have a look for themselves, and then they all have to get together and argue about what they're going to do. They were planning an ambush. They aren't really ready to attack fortified positions. The business of adjusting one's thinking to a different tactical situation is what takes the longest.'

'How long?'

'It depends entirely on the personality of the man in charge. If his mind was really set on an ambush, it could take him as long as a week.'

'He's dead then, Bevier-Knight,' Engessa told the Cyrinic tersely. 'As soon as we saw the warriors in the woods I dispatched a dozen of my people to the garrison at Sarsos. If our enemy takes more than two days to make up his mind, he'll have five thousand Atans climbing his back.'

'Sound thinking, Atan Engessa,' Tynian approved. He pondered it. 'A thought, Sparhawk. If our friend out there gets all caught up in indecision, we can just continue to strengthen our defences around this hill ditches, sharpened stakes, the usual enc.u.mbrances. Each improvement we add will make him think things over that much longer-which will give us time to add more fortifications, which will make him think all the more. If we can keep him thinking for two days, the Atans from Sarsos will come up behind him and wipe out his force before he ever gets around to using it.'

'Good point,' Sparhawk agreed. 'Let's get to it.'

'I thought that being a military person just involved banging on people with axes and swords,' Emban conceded.

'There's a lot of that involved too, your Grace,' Ulath smiled, 'but it doesn't hurt to outsmart your enemy a little too.' He looked at Bevier. 'Engines?' he asked. Bevier blinked. Ulath's cryptic questions always took him by surprise for some reason. 'As long as we have some time on our hands, we could erect some catapults on the hilltop. Attacking through a rain of boulders is always sort of distracting. Getting hit on the head with a fifty pound rock always seems to break a man's concentration for some reason. If we're going to set up for a siege, we might as well do it right.' He looked around at them. 'I still don't like sieges though,' he added. 'I want everybody to understand that.'

The warriors set to work, and the ladies and the young men attending them renewed their festivities, although their hilarity was even more forced now.

Sparhawk and Kalten were reinforcing the breastworks atop the hill. Since his wife and daughter were going to be inside those fortifications, their strength was a matter of more than pa.s.sing interest to the prince consort. The party under the pavilion had begun to show gaps, and Stragen was increasingly obliged to fill them with his lute.

'He's going to wear out his fingers,' Kalten grunted, lifting another large rock into place.

'Stragen enjoys attention,' Sparhawk shrugged. 'He'll keep playing until the blood runs out from under his fingernails if there's anybody around to listen.'

Stragen's lute took up a very old air, and he began to sing again. Sparhawk didn't really have much of an ear for music, but he had to admit that the Thalesian thief had a beautiful voice. And then Baroness Melidere joined in. Her voice was a rich contralto that blended smoothly with Stragen's baritone. Their duet was perfectly balanced, smooth and rich with the dark tones of their deeper voices.

Sparhawk smiled to himself. The baroness was continuing her campaign. Once Aphrael had alerted him to the blonde girl's designs on Stragen, Sparhawk could see dozens of artful little ploys she was using to keep her intended victim's attention. He almost felt sorry for Stragen, but he concluded that Melidere would be good for him.

The pair concluded their duet to loud applause. Sparhawk glanced toward the pavilion and saw Melidere lay one lingering hand almost caressingly on Stragen's wrist. Sparhawk knew just how potent those accidental-seeming contacts were. Lillias had explained it to him once, and Lillias had been the world's champion seductress-as probably half the men in Jiroch could have sworn to.

Then Stragen turned to another traditional air, and a new voice lifted in song. Kalten dropped the rock he had been lifting. It fell onto his foot, but he did not even wince. The voice was that of an angel, high, sweet, and as clear as gla.s.s. It soared effortlessly toward the upper reaches of the soprano range. It was a lyric voice, uncontaminated by the subtle variations of the coloratura, and it seemed as untaught as bird-song. It was Ehlana's maid, Alcan. The doe-eyed girl, always so quiet and una.s.suming, stood in the centre of the Pavilion, her face luminous as she sang.

Sparhawk heard Kalten snuffle, and he was astonished to see great tears streaming down his friend's face as the blond Pandion wept unashamed. Perhaps his recent conversation with the Child G.o.ddess had alerted Sparhawk to the potentials of intuition, and he suddenly knew, without knowing exactly how he knew, that two campaigns were in progress-and, moreover, that the one being waged by Baroness Melidere was the more overt and blatant. He carefully concealed a smile behind his hand.

'Lord, that girl's got a beautiful voice!' Kalten said in stunned admiration as Alcan concluded her song. 'G.o.d!' he said then, doubling over to clutch at the foot he had unwittingly injured five minutes earlier.

The work progressed until sunset, and then the combined army pulled back behind the reinforced palisade and waited. Sir Bevier and his Cyrinic Knights retired to the hilltop, where they completed the construction of their catapults. Then they amused themselves by lobbing large rocks into the forest seemingly at random.

'What are they shooting at, Sparhawk?' Ehlana asked after supper.

'The trees,' he shrugged.

'The trees aren't threatening us.'

'No, but there are probably people hiding among them. The boulders falling out of the sky should make them a little jumpy.' He smiled. 'Actually, Bevier's men are testing the range of the engines, dear. If our friends in the forest decide to attack down those avenues we've provided for them, Bevier wants to know exactly when to start shooting.'

'There's a great deal more involved in being a soldier than just keeping your equipment clean, isn't there?'

'I'm glad you appreciate that, my Queen.'

'Shall we go to bed then?'

'Sorry, Ehlana,' he replied, 'but I won't be sleeping tonight. If our friend out there makes up his mind and attacks, there are some things I'll have to do rather quickly.' He looked around. 'Where's Danae?'

'She and Talen are over there watching Bevier's people throw rocks at the trees.'

'I'll go get her. You'll probably want to keep her close to you tonight.'

He crossed the basin to where Bevier was directing the activities of his knights. 'Bed-time,' he told his daughter, lifting her into his arms. She pouted a little at that, but raised no other objections. When Sparhawk was about half-way back to his wife's tent, he slowed. 'How much of a stickler are you for formality, Aphrael?' he asked.

'A few genuflections are nice, father,' she replied, 'but I can live without them-in an emergency.'

'Good. If the attack comes tonight, we're going to need some light to see them by.'

'How much light?'

'Sort of noonish would be good.'

'I can't do that, Sparhawk. Do you have any idea of how much trouble I'd get into if I made the sun rise when it wasn't supposed to?'

'I wasn't really suggesting that. I just want enough light so that people can't sneak up on us through the shadows. The spell's a fairly long one with a lot of formalities involved and many, many specifics. I may be a little pressed for time, so would you be terribly offended if I just asked you for light and left the details up to you?'

'It's highly irregular, Sparhawk,' she chided him primly.