The Sword Of Midras Part 12

Youre leaving, then? There was more hope in the generals voice than he would have probably liked to have shown.

Yes, I have an errand for the cabal that cannot wait, Evard said.

Where are you going? the general asked.

That is of no concern of yours, General, Evard sneered as he stood abruptly from the throne. You have your orders. I suggest that you follow them. The cabal has been debating of late whether some magical reshaping of our generals might produce a better, more trustworthy command of our armies. What do you think of the idea, General? Has it any merit?

The general blanched as Evard stepped past him.

Evard was in a hurry. The search for Aren had taken up much of his time and too much of his powers in sorcery. He had received his friends message from the homunculus three days before, and it had taken those days to prepare before he could leave. Now it would be all he could do to reach Opalis by the eighteenth day.

The ship rolled heavily to starboard, the hull groaning as the waves crashed against it. The shrill whistle of the wind through the rigging, heard even through the four decks above Aren, sounded in his ears like the keening of angry spirits. The single lantern, suspended from the ceiling, swung wildly on its hook, causing the shadows in the room to shift and sway. Water sloshed back and forth across the floor of his cell with every bounding movement of the ship, carrying with it the bucket into which, it seemed to Captain Bennis, the contents of everything he had eaten in the last two days was destined to be deposited. The greatest challenge was to hit the bucket as it slid about the floor, carried by the ever-moving puddle of water that had somehow made its way from the torrent drenching the top deck, down to his brig cell near the bottom of the ship.

It was really quite a simple matter of knowing where everyones own interest lay, Gerad Zhal said cheerfully, his back pressed against the larboard bulkhead of the ship, his right leg pushing against the frame of the starboard bunk fixed to the hull opposite him. The stance effectively wedged him in place. If you know what they want and can show them how they can have it by agreeing with you, then consensus is easy to achieve.

Aren lay sprawled across the bunk, gripping its frame with colorless hands as his head lolled over the edge.

Death, Aren thought miserably, would have been preferable.

Take Aerie, for example, the loremaster continued. The guildmasters there care more about profit and keeping their trade lines open than for the ancient past. They could care less about this Avatar blade of yours, but they do care about keeping Norgard trade in their pocket. So by convincing Norgard that having your relic sword in Opalis made it far more likely that they would be part of the warrior-magic it represented, well, that in turn allowed Norgard to convince Aerie to vote with them in favor of our expedition. Do you see?

Aren tried to raise his head to speak but could only manage to blurt out the two things he had actually heard: Warrior magic?

Well, warrior-magic may have been a carefully selected phrase on my part, Ill grant you, the loremaster admitted, but then dismissed it with a wave of his hand. But I do believe that some form of ancient magic is evidenced by your sword. Whether that can be put to any practical use by Norgard, or any of the other factions of the Council of Might, is purely a matter of conjecture. However, so long as each of them at least believed in the possibility, then they were willing to allow the sword to be brought to Opalis for examination. Alas, it also brings the sword near the borders of Norgards own conquests, but I believe that is a risk worth taking.

The bucket had slid to rest beneath Arens face. The smell of his previous meals rose up to greet him. He tried to add to its contents once more, but despite his spasms, there seemed nothing left inside him to contribute.

The lady Miriam could easily be counted, as she is the representative of Opalis, so long as she could also be convinced that Norgard would remain behind their borders and not simply take the sword from them once it was in reach of their city, the loremaster continued, completely at ease with the lurching of the ship about them. That essentially left the problem of the two warlords: the paladins of Resolute and the shogun of Is this making any sense to you?

The ship suddenly heeled over hard to larboard just as it pitched upward at the bow. The bucket was swept across the floor and backward along with the water, both splashing against the back wall of the brig.

Aren was hearing the sound of the loremasters voice, but little else. At least listening to someone speaking to him, even if he was too sick to register the meaning of the words, was better than suffering the ships motion alone. Aren let out a loud belch then managed to mumble. Keep talking.

Oh, very well then. Gerad Zhal smiled, shifting his boot slightly to strengthen his hold against the heaving wall at his back. As I was saying The room reeled as the bow plunged downward. The bucket tipping over at last, spilling its contents to mix with the seawater rushing forward. Aren belched loudly once again and then rolled over onto his back. His hands gripped the sides of the bunk, and he closed his eyes, trying to will the universe to hold still around him. At least I wont have to aim for the bucket anymore, he thought.

Are you all right? Gerad asked.

No! I mean is it always like this?

Oh no! Gerad chuckled. It is usually much worse! We hardly ever attempt this kind of crossing anymore. Even the best of our mariners consider it entirely too dangerous to risk. But the weather was particularly favorable, and the baroness felt the need for urgency.

This is favorable? Aren muttered through quivering lips. With his eyes closed, he could barely manage to concentrate on the loremasters voice, even if his words did not make sense to him.

For the Baden-Fox clan? Certainly! The loremaster smiled, and the room shuddered under the side impact of a wave. The original Baden-Fox founded Etceter as a haven for his well, pirate vessels. They became particularly adept at sailing just inside the edge of the storm and raiding the trade ships that pa.s.sed along the coastlines between the Longfall Peninsula, Elysium, and the Perennial Coast. Even so, no one has actually navigated across the storm this way in my lifetime. Its all rather thrilling to be part of it, dont you agree?

Aren swallowed hard, keeping his eyes tightly shut as he managed a single, exhausted word. Thrilling.

You know, I think you could use some fresh air, the loremaster decided.

Aren opened his eyes to stare at Gerad in disbelief.

The loremaster slid his boot from the opposing bench to stand on the still-careening deck, his feet set wide and his knees slightly bent. To Aren, it seemed that the room was moving around Gerad.

Lets go up to the top deck, Gerad urged. We must be somewhere near the middle of the bay by now. We might even see the citadel!

Citadel? Aren blinked hard, struggling to rise up on one elbow while trying to concentrate on what Gerad was saying. What citadel?

Oh, its a legend pa.s.sed down by the pirates and mariners of the bay. Gerad smiled back at Aren. They say that those who sail through the center of the Great Storm will see a great gathering of lights beneath the waves. They tell of a great citadel beneath the waves where the souls of all the dead mariners who have been taken by the storm gather in a place of quiet, peace, and perpetual tranquility. Other legends talk of the citadel, but not as a peaceful place, but a place of constant war between the souls of pirates forced to eternally fight one another. Either way, it would be something to see the lights deep below the storm of the bay, would it not?

You You go. Aren waved feebly as he sank back into the bunk. I cant leave the brig.

What are you talking about? Gerad laughed. The bars are not locked. Youre free to come up on deck with me. Ill even help you with your safety line.

No! Thank you! Aren said with exhausting vehemence. When I say I cannot leave the brig I mean I mean, I cannot leave the brig.

You would feel a great deal better if you would just"

Go away, Aren said feebly.

But I was going to tell you all about Opalis, its splendor and the benevolence of the t.i.tans who rule there!

Just go away, Aren said, closing his eyes once more and gripping tighter the sides of his bunk.

The Cypher found its way out of the tempest on the evening of the fourth day in the storm. The seas gradually calmed as they sailed on toward the north, and with them, Arens stomach began to calm as well. By that time, they had been at sea five days.

On the morning of the sixth day, Aren managed to struggle up the ladders from the Cyphers brig through the intervening decks to again see the open sky. He was surprised to see land to the northeast, but Syenna explained that it was not the Ash Coast of South Paladis but Spindrift Island"a place where the barons of Etceter had forever decreed no one should make landfall. No reason had ever been given, and legends had filled the void, but no mariner would challenge a cursed place. Aren did not remember much of what the loremaster had said to him but, much to his surprise, he realized that being on the open deck did help him feel a little better.

By the time the Cypher made anchor off the Ash Coast that afternoon, none was more pleased to leave the ship than the Obsidian captain. Opalis was still a four days journey ahead of them, but at least, Aren reflected, he could keep his meals down along the way.

However, he knew it meant that he would arrive in Opalis in ten days rather than the eighteen he had estimated in his message to Evard. He was unconcerned, though, at having to wait for his friends arrival.

After all, he thought, what could happen in eight days?

PART III.

THE SIEGE.

CHAPTER.

16.

Opalis.

The city of Opalis lay at the horizon like a beckoning mirage.

Syenna, Aren, and Zhal, along with six of the baroness guards, stopped their horses in wonder on the road that crossed the plain. They had followed the Jaana River from the Ash Coast up to the crossroads village of Jaanaford, then continued up the road that paralleled West Jaana for several days. Now, in an instant, the weariness of their journey was momentarily forgotten.

Its incredible, Aren said, shaking his head. Sitting on the back of the chestnut horse they had placed him on, the vision that had caught his eyes across the plain had made him forget that his hands were tied and bound to the horn of the saddle beneath him. Why didnt you tell me?

Syenna smiled in wistful awe. I didnt know.

You havent been here before? Aren asked.

If I had only known, she replied.

It is a most common reaction among those whose eyes first gaze upon the beauty of Opalis, Gerad Zhal said, chuckling, as he urged his horse forward just enough to come alongside the captain. I would have thought, Captain Bennis, that a warrior in the service of the Obsidian Cause would have seen many such places in the course of his conquests.

No, Loremaster, Aren said through a lopsided grin. Never anything like this.

The city proper was encompa.s.sed by an impressive curtain wall over thirty feet in height. While there were numerous smaller buildings and tents situated outside of these walls"which the loremaster had informed them was called Brambletown"there appeared to be a great clear s.p.a.ce maintained around its base. At several points in the angular twisting wall, stone turrets were fixed, rising into beautiful, slender towers both magnificent and practical. Beyond the wall, Aren could see the rooftops of buildings, many of the spires and domes gleaming brightly in polished bra.s.s.

But it was the citadel of Opalis that was a true wonder. Its magnificent dome dwarfed all others around it, shining brilliantly beneath the sky. Yet it was not the morning sun alone that gave it light, for there was a compelling, purple aura streaked with lightning that danced on its surface. The dome was, in turn, cradled in the curved lines of the tower whose form Aren could only describe as resembling a frozen, opalescent flame that swept upward to a peak high above the right side of the dome. From this distance, it was a stunning achievement, the likes of which, Aren was certain, had not existed since before the Fall. He was suddenly filled with a wary dread; this was something that was unknown among the Obsidians. Aren knew that the downfall of every perfect plan lay waiting in the shadows of the unknown.

Is there something wrong? Syenna looked at him more carefully.

At least, Aren thought, shes gone back to wearing the breeches and jacket. No, not at all.

For a moment I thought you looked as though you were going to be sick again, Syenna chided.

For the last time, I was not sick, Aren said with a haughty grin. I was merely employing an unusual interrogation technique on Loremaster Zhal.

A loud guffaw exploded from the loremaster.

Four days in your bunk with your head in a slop bucket and as weak as a newborn kitten? Syenna considered with a raised eyebrow and as straight a face as she could manage. I say, that is an unusual technique.

Indeed and dedicated, too, agreed Zhal through his laughter. He had to torture himself nearly to death before I talked!

Syenna barely managed to stifle her own laughter.

Well, it worked, didnt it? Aren interrupted loudly. It wasnt my fault that the loremaster didnt know anything worth learning.

Or I didnt tell you anything worth learning, Zhal corrected through his smile.

All this over a worthless sword, Aren groused.

Worthless? Syenna asked skeptically.

Yes, worthless, Aren replied.

Now what are you talking about? Syenna sighed.

Look, ever since I found this sword, I havent been able to attack anyone with it. Aren shrugged as best he could with his hands tied. What good is a sword that wont kill?

Quite so. Zhal nodded. One of many questions I would like to have answered about your most remarkable weapon.

And you will share those enlightened answers, Loremaster, when the time comes? Aren said, turning toward Zhal.

Absolutely, although sometimes finding the answer isnt nearly as difficult as discovering what question one should be asking. Whatever the questions, all our answers lie in that city on the horizon. Zhal beamed as he urged his horse forward.

Yes. Syenna nodded. All our answers.

And I promise to tell you everything I learn, Zhal said to Aren, while were on the ship back to Etceter.

Arens stomach turned over at the thought.

Aren Bennis was a captain in the Obsidian Cause.

As such, he did not concern himself with the increasingly heavy foot traffic as the inhabitants of Opalis moved around him. He examined the city they were approaching as he had examined so many towns and strongholds over the past few years, with a military eye toward defense and conquest. The structures and tents of Brambletown outside the city wall were separated from the wall by what turned out to be large depressions with steep embankments. They were rather like oversize moats without the water, although Aren suspected that they might be made to fill with water. It would be easy enough to divert the West Jaana River with a sluice gate for that purpose. Even dry, those deep depressions would make for a formidable crossing. Warriors attacking the wall would have to first charge down the embankment, crowding into the depression before they could climb up the steep embankment opposite them. Only after all that would they have even reached the base of the wall itself. Formations would tend to bunch up in the limited s.p.a.ce of the depression, making defensive fire from the walls far more deadly. The only level access into the city appeared to be along the causeways"essentially, ground that had been removed to create the depressions that led to the city gates.

They approached the gate at the southeastern edge of the encircling wall. Here the crowds were thick on the causeway. The gate was recessed somewhat, with a section of wall looking down on the approaches from the left and a turret from the right. Aren noted that there were armed guards walking the battlements above, but not nearly as many as the captain would have posted for the citys defense. Perhaps they were not expecting an imminent attack and were, therefore, maintaining a minimal defense. There were two sets of double gates, each two feet thick and steel-bound, each set separated by a narrow stone tunnel that penetrated through the twenty-foot thickness of the wall. Both gates were open, allowing the people, their carts, and occasional wagons to move in and out without being challenged.

Loremaster Zhal"helpful as ever"had informed Aren that this was called the Storm Gate, since it represented the beginning of the road to the Bay of Storms. The city had three such gates; the two others, known as the Fields Gate on the west side, which accessed the farmland to the southwest, and North Gate, which was, well, on the north. The North Gate was the largest of the three, as its roads connected Opalis with Resolute, situated in the mountains far to the north, and also Willowvale, across the Pillars of Night Range to the northwest.

Aren had heard of Resolute, but Willowvale meant nothing to him. The Obsidian captain was at the very boundaries of his knowledge of the world and felt somewhat concerned that he might fall off if he were not careful.

They pa.s.sed through the Storm Gate and into the city beyond. After the wide sky beneath the open prairie, the small square just inside the city gates seemed uncomfortably close. A broad avenue curved around the sheer curtain wall of the citadel that towered above them. Buildings were uncomfortably close to one another, and the people on the avenue milled, shifted, and moved around one another like a slow river.

Hail, Etceter! cried out a guard who appeared before them from out of the crowd. He was a tall man with a stocky build. His wide face was made even wider by the carefully trimmed, dark beard and broad smile. His hair was a tight thatch of curls about his tanned face. He was clad in a padded cerulean doublet with the image of a falcon, its wings spread wide, emblazoned across the front. He wore no armor, so far as Aren could tell, but rested his left hand casually on the hilt of a rapier strapped to his side. He raised his right hand, palm open toward them, in salute.

Hail, Opalis! Zhal called back, returning the open-palm salute from the back of his horse. It is good to see you again, Captain Trevan.

You as well, Loremaster Zhal! The captain of Opalis smiled even more broadly than before. We had word of your approach two days ago. I was nearly of a mind to come and get you, fearing you might get lost along the way.

Now what kind of a loremaster would I be if I couldnt remember my way home? Zhal chuckled.

Exactly my point. Trevan smiled. I see you have brought a rather large contingent with you. Perhaps you would be so good as to introduce them to me?

Aren gnawed at his lip. The citizens who were thronging the streets were drawing back toward the edges of the square, stopping to watch the unusual events unfolding before them. He had a.s.sumed that Syenna and Zhal wanted to keep their journey and its purpose a secret, but now they were on horseback in the public square of the city being introduced to a guardian of the city as though they were paying a social call. Aren was uncomfortable with the attention it would draw to him.

Of course. Mikas Trevan, Captain of the Opalis Legion, Zhal announced with a slight bow from his saddle. Zhal smiled and gestured toward Syenna. May I present the Lady Syenna, Shieldmaiden to Baroness Baden-Fox.

Shieldmaiden? Aren thought. Whats a shieldmaiden?