Silk And Steel: The Skeleton King Part 48

Blaine leaned toward her, his face darkened with streaks of mud, just like her own. "What now?"

"Now we wait for Danya."

Darkness fell like a scythe, slaying the last of the twilight. Kath huddled beneath her sheepskin cloak, desperate for warmth. Time seemed to crawl. Waiting proved hard, giving her too much time to think. Nightmares plagued her mind, memories from inside the gargoyles, images of h.e.l.l. Souls bound for centuries inside stone statues, trapped in unspeakable torment, a fate she could have shared. Shuddering, she gripped her sword hilt, fighting to banish the memories. She needed to focus on the battle ahead. So many things could go wrong. The biggest risk was the enemy's numbers. She had no way of knowing how many soldiers lurked within the dark walls. But if her army breached the gates and fought within the narrow streets of the citadel, then the numbers might be negated. And then there was Duncan, a worry of another sort. She prayed her dreams were only nightmares, not a warning from the G.o.ds.

The night wore on and the darkness deepened, not a sound upon the land. Even the stars were reluctant to shine. Valin gifted her with a moonless night, so dark and absolute that the sky seemed like the vault of a grave and all the world a tomb.

"Svala, look!"

And then she saw them. Lights crept across the land, thirty thousand or more, moving up from the south. Spread out across the fields, they swept forward like a tide of starlight, as if a vast army marched toward the citadel, each soldier holding a lighted taper.

Blaine gripped her arm. "It works! Danya's done it!"

"The awesome power of a Beastmaster." Kath could only imagine the strength of Danya's magic to hold so many to her will. She'd asked the wolf-girl to bring the mountain sheep out of Ghost Hills and march them across the steppes. Thirty thousand sheep with glow crystals tied to their horns, they moved across the steppes like a vast eldritch army. Superst.i.tion and the dark moon completed the illusion, as if an attacking horde swarmed toward the citadel. The ghost army gave Kath the deceit of numbers she so desperately needed. "Now we wait to see if they believe it."

Huddled at the base of the citadel, Kath was close enough to hear the cries of alarm raised along the walls. Horns blared from the ramparts and drums pounded a warning. Shouts rang out, echoing against the stone walls. The distinctive whump of catapults and trebuchets shook the night, hurling boulders into the steppes. And all the boulders fell toward the south.

Blaine's voice leaped with eagerness. "You've done it! They've bought the ruse!"

"Wait." Kath held her forces back, giving the citadel time to shift the bulk of their men toward the southern gate.

Out on the southern fields, the army of lights kept their distance, a bright swarm dancing just beyond the reach of the defenders, yet the rain of boulders never slowed.

A clash of steel shattered the night, the distant battle sounds heightening the sense of danger. Flames erupted to the east, tongues of fire licking the barracks. A bright orange glow lit the ma.s.sive wooden structures of the Pit, making them seem like flame-breathing dragons. "Fanggold." Kath released a long held breath. "Almost time."

The time for battle was nearly upon them, but she was not afraid, as if she'd finally found her true destiny.

"Stay low and keep quiet." Kath led her band of thirty-four warriors toward the northern gate, the same men who'd battled the h.e.l.lhounds, every one wearing a swath of maroon tied to their sword arm. To a man, they'd insisted on following her into the citadel. If they failed, the rest of the army had orders to retreat.

Faces blackened, they crept across the frozen ground to the stone ramp, a broad roadway leading up to the northern gate. Torchlight flickered along the battlement but the ramp remained sheathed in darkness. Kath shed her sheepskin cloak, leaving it in the snow, trusting the maroon cloak to hide her against the dark stone. Slow and stealthy, she crept up the ramp, a thin line of marauders following behind. Halfway up, her shoulder's blades itched. Fearing an arrow or a crossbow bolt, she hugged the ground, afraid to breathe. When no bolt came, she scurried forward, relieved to reach the ironbound gate.

The gate was immense, timber reinforced with iron plates, thrice the height of a tall man. Wood was impervious to her magic, so Kath avoided the gate, seeking the stone wall on the far side of the gatehouse. Slipping around the corner, she pressed her back against the cold stone. Blaine, Bear and Boar kept close. The others hugged the darkness, an ambush waiting for an open gate.

Kath reached for the amber pyramid lodged deep in her pocket. Breaching the wall would be risky. Anything could lurk on the other side, including a legion of soldiers. Kath knew she was just as likely to walk into a trap, as to succeed, but it was too late for doubt. She sidled close to Blaine. "If I don't return, take the others back and warn the painted people."

Kath held her breath, expecting another argument, but he just gave her a curt nod. "I'll be waiting for you."

She gripped his arm in thanks. Sending a quick prayer to Valin, she looked at Bear and Boar. "Ready?"

Both men nodded, gently easing their swords from their scabbards.

"Then take a deep breath, and whatever happens, don't let go."

She stood between them, linking her arms through theirs, pulling them close. Taking a deep breath, she summoned her magic and stepped into the wall.

Evil a.s.saulted her. Like plunging headfirst into a frozen sea, she writhed in shock. Stone surrounded her, seeking to steal her breath, pulling her down like a dark malignant tide. Panic threatened, like nothing she'd ever experienced. The stone itself was corrupt, imbued with evil. Kath flailed against the dark current, desperate to keep her bearings. Disoriented, her lungs burned with need. She tightened her fist on the small amber pyramid. A light flamed within her mind and the panic eased. Forcing herself forward, she battled against the dark tide...and then she was through, stepping into air. Gasping for breath, she doubled over, convulsing like a drowned sailor.

Firm hands seized her arms.

She looked up, relieved the two men had made it.

They pulled her back against the wall, into the shadows. Her mind snapped back into focus; they were inside the citadel. Excitement laced with fear shivered through her. She'd half expected a legion of soldiers to be lurking just inside the gate but the street was nearly empty. She strained to listen for the tramp of boots. Drums and trumpets echoed through the night, but the sounds were distant, somewhere toward the southern gate.

Torches fluttered along the far wall, drawing her gaze. Kath gasped in shock, recognizing the small statue carved into the wall like a wayfarer's shrine. Three creatures sitting in a row with rounded ears and long tails, but the carvings had very human gestures. One covered his ears, another his eyes, and the third his mouth, a crude version of the statue in the Kiralynn monastery. The creatures seemed to mock her. She staggered back against the wall, there was more evil here than she'd ever imagined.

"Are you all right?" Bear gripped her arm, staring into her face. "You're as pale as death."

Kath nodded. "I'm fine," but she knew she wasted valuable time. She gripped her sword, desperate to clear her mind. A pair of guards patrolled the gate, but otherwise the street was empty.

A door burst open and a dozen armor-clad guards emerged, half of them carrying crossbows. They clattered up the stairs to the barbican over the gate.

Kath shook her head. "We need more men." The plan called for her to slip back into the wall, ferrying her men through two at a time. She shuddered, reluctant to re-enter the stone, but she had no choice. "Wait here."

Taking a deep breath, she gripped the amber pyramid and stepped back into the wall. Evil struck like a cold wave, battering against her, but this time she was ready. Holding her breath, she forged a path against the dark tide, refusing to be swept away. Head down, she battled forward, holding a blaze of light in her mind. And then she was through, staggering into the air.

Hands caught her, strong and sure, pulling her back against the wall. "Svala!"

Blaine and Sidhorn stared down at her, big men bristling with weapons.

Just for a moment, she sagged against them, gulping air and warmth, and then she took a steadying breath. "You're needed on the far side."

They did not hesitate. Linking arms with her, they turned to face the wall. Kath wished she had their certainty. Taking deep breath, she sent a prayer to Valin and plunged back into the dark stone.

Thrice more, she made the perilous pa.s.sage. Each time, the men were unaffected, but the dark stone took its toll. Shaking, Kath leaned against the inner wall. "No more," she shook her head, "I can't do it again."

Blaine took charge. "Then we'll have to make do." He whispered orders to the others. Bear and Boar would open the gate while the rest charged the stairs, attacking the bowmen on the battlement. "Kath, can you take out the two guards with your axes?"

Her hands shook. "Not yet." She hated admitting the weakness but she'd not spoil the plan, not when they were so close.

Bear said, "We'll take them with our slings."

Kath grinned at the irony. The simplest of weapons would open the gates to the Dark Citadel.

Blaine nodded to the big warrior. "When you're ready."

Kath slipped her sword from its scabbard. They crouched in the shadows, tensed for battle. Bear and Boar loosed their slings, a quick whirl followed by a sharp crack. The two guards dropped, felled in their tracks, and then everything erupted in a blur of motion. Bear and Boar raced for the gate while Kath guarded their backs. The big men put their shoulders to the ma.s.sive crossbeam, straining to open the gate. Blaine led the others up the stairwell, attacking the archers on the barbican.

"Who's there?" A shout rang from the ramparts, followed by a scream.

A crossbow bolt whistled into the courtyard, but it struck only stone.

"Hurry!" Kath stood in a crouch, holding her blade at the ready, searching the shadows for enemies.

Boar grunted, struggling to lift the ma.s.sive beam.

Shouts rang from the ramparts. A man screamed and a body tumbled from the walls, landing with a thud on the cobblestones. Kath flicked a glance toward the corpse, relieved to see a stranger's face. "Hurry!"

A door crashed open and more guards poured out.

"They're coming!" Kath tensed, tightening her grip on her sword and shield.

A troop of guards raced towards her, their weapons bared.

Behind her, the ma.s.sive beam crashed to the cobblestones. The gates creaked open.

"They're coming!" And then the fight was upon her. She parried the nearest sword thrust. Steel clanged met with a fearsome clash. The brutal blow shuddered down her sword arm. Kath pivoted away, slashing toward her opponent's knees. A second sword flashed towards her neck. Spying the blow from the corner of her eye, she pulled away at the last moment. Sweat erupted beneath her chainmail. Badly outnumbered, she lurched backward, keeping her shield raised, too many to fight. Slash and turn, she gave ground, trying to blunt their attack.

And then the others came. With a wild howl, her painted warriors poured through the open gate. They roared into the guards, pushing them back, leaving a trail of death in their wake.

The battle swept past Kath. Sheathing her sword, she ran to nearest torch. Wresting it from its bracket, she leaped towards the gate. Standing in the open mouth, she waved the torch back and forth, once, twice, thrice.

A howl erupted from the steppes. Her army was coming. Tossing the torch aside, she unsheathed her sword and ran to join the others. "For Castlegard and the Light!" She raced up the cobblestone street, torchlight glinting on arms and armor. The battle for the Dark Citadel was begun.

62.

Katherine The night became a confusion of swords, a running battle fought in the streets. The cobblestones ran slick with gore. Kath fought in the vanguard, struggling to push the guards up hill. One step at a time, they claimed the street, a b.l.o.o.d.y clash of steel.

A sword stroke rushed towards her face. Kath took the blow on her shield and then lunged forward. Her sword found an opening, severing a guard's hand. Another guard leaped to take his place. All around her, swords rang to a furious beat. Men in sheepskins battled men in armor. Her rag-tag band of painted warriors fought like demons, pushing the soldiers back, their fury defeating discipline. But Kath knew fury was fleeting. She urged her warriors forward, desperate to break the guards.

Beside her, a painted warrior slumped to the cobblestones, a feathered bolt lodged in his back. More bolts rained down. The street became a deathtrap. "Push them back!" She redoubled her effort. They needed to get away from the gate.

Feathered bolts hissed among them. More warriors fell. Some clutched arms and legs but there was no time for the wounded. Once begun, the battle was to the death.

The fighting was fierce, a desperate struggle on both sides. Men yelled and screamed. Wounded crawled away, trailing slicks of blood. Horns blared, adding to the confusion. Kath screamed her battle cry, "For the Light!" Bear and Boar fought beside her, a sword on her right a spiked mace on her left. The big men dodged in front, taking a blow aimed at Kath. Fighting like lions, they forced the guards to give ground, but not fast enough. Crossbow bolts hissed from the wall, bleeding their ranks from behind.

Somehow Blaine found her. Screaming his battle cry, "For the Octagon!" he pushed his way to the front, cleaving a path through the enemy. His blue sword cut like a scythe, driving the enemy back, but still the guards did not break.

Footsteps thundered from behind. Painted warriors poured through the gates, joining the fray, their tattooed faces savage in the torchlight. Like a relentless tide they pounded up the street, adding their numbers to the vanguard, a battering ram pushing from behind. The line surged forward, trampling the wounded. The guards gave ground...and then they broke and ran.

"For the Light!" Kath led the charge.

Her painted warriors gave chase, howling like banshees.

The cobblestone street curved upward, taking them beyond the reach of the deadly crossbows. Houses crowded close, creating a canyon of stone. Doors slammed shut all along the street. Grim faces peered from half-shuttered windows. The people of the citadel neither hindered nor helped. A smoldering rage erupted in Kath. She longed to drag the watchers from their homes and convince them to fight, but she dared not stop. The tides of battle were fickle. The advantage had swung to her side and she needed to ride the wave all the way to the top.

Someone howled like a wolf and the others took up the cry, as if a rabid pack stalked the citadel. Stone walls echoed the sound, multiplying their numbers. Tattooed faces leered in the torchlight, hungry for vengeance.

Their savagery had the intended effect. All resistance melted away.

The guards fled, disappearing into side alleyways. Kath kept her men together, refusing to be lured into rabbit warrens. Weapons held at the ready, they pounded up the main street, a relentless army of savage-faced warriors grinding their way toward the top.

The street curved around a bend, spilling into a second courtyard. Another gate blocked the way, a gleam of armored soldiers on the ramparts. But the torchlight revealed an obstacle of a different sort. Brown-robed citizens clogged the courtyard. A frightened mob pounded on the gates, demanding sanctuary. A black-robed priest stood atop the barbican, exhorting the people to fight. "Stay within your tier! Protect your homes! Take up arms and fight! Kill the invaders and your reward shall be great!"

Kath's army slowed to a crawl, crowding the mob from behind. She leaned toward Bear. "Can you reach the priest with your sling?"

"Yes."

"Then wait for my word." Kath raised her voice to the crowd. "Why do you listen to the priests, when they are your true enemy?"

The crowd milled in confusion, frightened faces staring back at her.

"We've come to save you not to fight you! Join us! Kill the priests and take the citadel!"

The priest's face twisted into a mask of rage. "Kill the invaders!"

Kath hissed, "Now!"

Bear's sling whirled.

Crossbow bolts hissed from the walls, striking warriors and citizens alike. Kath took a bolt on her shield, staggering under the blow. A woman shrieked and children wept. Screams erupted through the courtyard, a ma.s.sacre in the making.

Bear's aim struck true.

The priest tumbled from the wall, a flutter of dark robes landing on the cobblestones. The mob surged forward, attacking the priest and the gate.

More sling stones whirled through the air, striking the guards atop the wall.

Crossbows answered with a rain of death.

The courtyard became a deathtrap. Kath had to break the stalemate. Choosing a handful of warriors, she led them into a side alley. "We need to open the gate!" Left and then right, she made her way toward the wall. Bear and Blaine kept pace at her side. She gripped their arms, and they ran for the wall. "Don't stop!"

They leaped into stone. Darkness clawed at Kath but she barreled forward, never breaking stride. The inner walls were not as thick as the outer. They stumbled into air...and found themselves in a bedroom. A woman shrieked, clutching sheets pulled to her chin. Beside her, a naked man bl.u.s.tered.

"We mean you no harm." Kath made for the doorway, Bear and Blaine pounding behind. They tumbled through a kitchen and then another door, before reaching the street.

The sounds of battle drew them toward the gate.

Torches lined the barbican, a halo of light against the crenelated battlement. Soldiers crowded the walls, but they stared the other way, loosing bolts at the mob. Only four guards barred their path to the gates.

Surprise was their best ally. Quiet as death, they raced toward the gate. Kath hurled her twin axes at the nearest guards. Blaine leaped forward, his blue sword held high. One guard fell, an axe embedded in his throat. Another staggered backward, taking an axe in his shoulder. Before they could raise an alarm, Blaine reached the two remaining guards, attacking with a head-high swing. Blue steel keened a deadly whistle, cleaving straight through flesh and bone, taking two heads with a single blow. Bear dispatched the wounded guard and Kath retrieved her axes. "Hurry!"

The two men ran to the gate while Kath stood guard. Putting shoulders to the crossbar, they struggled to lift the ma.s.sive log.

"Hurry!"

Groaning, they heaved the log from the braces. The ma.s.sive beam crashed to the cobblestones and the gates creaked open. Shouts rang from the barbican but it was too late to stem the tide.

Kath and the two men retreated back up the street. Ducking into a side alley, they crouched in the dark.

The gates swung wide and the mob poured through.

Peering from the alley, Kath studied the people they'd come to save. Small and slight, they seemed stunted and malformed. Dirty and dressed in drab rags, they looked like a pack of starving urchins, yet the rage on their faces was fearsome to behold. Fists raised, the mob raced up the street, howling like a pack of harpies loosed from h.e.l.l. One carried a spear impaled with the priest's severed head. The grisly trophy waved back and forth like a battle banner, spattering the crowd with blood. The mob cheered, seething with hate. Kath wondered what type of whirlwind she'd unleashed.