The Sword Of Midras Part 22

PART IV.

THE TIDE.

CHAPTER.

25.

Bargains.

Tribune Marcus Tercius leaned back into the chair with a luxuriant stretch. The canvas of the large tent that sheltered him rustled slightly in the evening breeze. Before him the Legate of the Norgard, commander of the Fifth Norgard Army, stood glaring with a mixture of shock and outrage at the large, robe-clad man who had just materialized among them.

Inwardly, Marcus was delighted. He had come to the tent of Legate Pla.n.u.s Argo, antic.i.p.ating another boring evening of the tales of his military conquests. Legate Argo was an angular man with an expansive forehead and prominent cheekbones above a grim, narrow mouth. His armor often seemed to wear him rather than the other way around, but there was no questioning his strategic savvy on the battlefield and his uncanny ability to navigate the intricacies of Norgard politics. However, his skills as a storyteller were low on his list of accomplishments. Indeed, the evening had begun with the legate precisely meeting the amba.s.sadors low expectations. The unexpected arrival had interrupted the legates droning narrative with a surge of excitement. This subsided, however, when the stranger had spread his arms wide, showed his hands to be empty even though he spoke softly of bringing a great gift to the legate and his Norgard army.

What is the meaning of this? the legate demanded, his right hand fumbling to find the grip of his sword that was leaning casually against his own chair. How did you get past my guard?

I am merely a humble traveler asking the hospitality of your tent, the man answered. And I come bearing urgent and vital information for the legate regarding the siege being conducted against the city of Opalis.

I already know all about the place, said the legate as the back of his hand brushed against the sword hilt, causing it to fall, clattering to the ground.

Oh, I think we should hear the man out, said Marcus through his amused smile. He might surprise us.

I doubt that, Argo snarled as he turned back to face the intruder and tried to look casual as he hooked his thumbs into the belt at his waist. The Army of the Obsidian Cause has surrounded the Treasure City of South Paladis. They think it can be plucked like some ripe fruit hanging low for the taking. The West Jaana River will swell with the blood of both sides before that city falls.

Which, as I recall, is precisely why we are here, observed Marcus.

Indeed, interjected the large, robed man standing before them. There are mighty legions of the Norgard that are encamped about you. Even now they await your command with antic.i.p.ation. Still, you watch like cunning crows observing a great battle from afar, waiting for the warriors to exhaust themselves upon one another, and once all is laid to ruin, you come to pick clean what remains of the carca.s.s.

Argos nostrils flared in indignation. How dare you come into my tent"

A fair a.s.sessment, interrupted Marcus, tilting his head slightly to the right. I take it that you have something better to propose?

In two days there will be an opportunity for the legions of Norgard to secure for themselves and for your empire not only a great victory, but the prized city itself, the man answered in solemn tones, his eyes shifting from the legate to the tribune.

An intriguing prospect, the tribune applied, raising his eyebrow. And just who are you to suggest such an opportunity?

My name is Boreus, replied the t.i.tan.

Marshal Nimbus, supreme ruler of the mountain city-state of Resolute, walked with great and rapid steps from the transept archway toward his elevated throne at the end of the Courts of Valor. Three knights of the Resolute Orders trailed behind him, struggling to buckle on their breastplates while balancing their helmets at the same time. They were the only knights available on such short notice to attend the marshal in the hall with any semblance of decorum.

Has Falcone gone completely insane? the marshal seethed as he strode up onto the platform, his voice rising with every step. I dispatched him to that counsel in Etceter with perfectly clear instructions to keep us out of anything to do with their Council of Might, and now he has the gall to show up with an emissary?

Marshal Gerhard Nimbus sat hastily on his throne and glared down the length of the magnificent hall. He was usually struck with the awe-inspiring beauty of the Courts of Valor, its vaulted architecture and the slanting columns of sunlight streaming in through the tall windows that gave the s.p.a.ce different aspects, depending upon the time of the day. Now, however, the site did not give him any pleasure, for his minister was not only arriving several days earlier than expected but was bringing unexpected trouble with him.

Gerhard was a methodical commander of the knights in Resolute. He ruled their mountainous realm of dedicated warriors with a firm and steady hand. It was said of him that the features of his square face were set as hard as flint and that the scar that ran from his forehead down his right cheek must have been chiseled there. His black, wavy hair was held in place by a simple steel band that pa.s.sed for his crown. His face was clean shaven although those who had met him occasionally wondered privately what sort of metal could hold an edge that could effectively sc.r.a.pe the marshals face. It was that very stonelike immovability that now caused him to scowl. If there was anything the marshal hated, it was a surprise.

His attendant knights were rushing to their a.s.signed tasks. Two of them, one male and one female, quickly took their places at the base of either side of the platform, hastening to put their ceremonial armor in order. The third hurried toward the far end of the hall, reaching the great double doors there at a near run. He slid noisily to a stop just short of the doors, struggling to catch his breath.

Let them enter, Gerhard bellowed, his words bounding through the expansive s.p.a.ce.

The knight at the far end of the hall turned toward the doors, his chest still rising and falling rapidly, and stepping aside, pulled one of them open.

Two figures stepped into the hall. One of them was instantly recognizable to the marshal, but it was the second that immediately caught his attention.

She was a tall woman with an exquisite shape and elegant features. There was something exotic and transcendent in the look of her face. Her hair was so light in color as to appear nearly white, and its thick, single braid extended beyond the middle of her back. The elegant robe that she wore only hinted at what the marshal realized was a magnificent figure underneath. The sight of her was so astonishing that the stone-faced marshal was completely robbed of words as she and the marshals foreign minister walked the length of the hall and came to stand before him.

Lord Marshal, Minister Falcone began. May I present The stupor that Marshal Nimbus had fallen into suddenly shattered. He turned at once in his throne to face his amba.s.sador. Minister Falcone! You are not expected to return from your mission for at least another five days. Are we to a.s.sume that you failed in your charge to reach Etceter as was your express duty?

No, Lord Marshal, the amba.s.sador said firmly. I completed my charge to Etceter and was returning to your court as per your orders. I had not yet reached the Middle Downs of the South Paladis this very morning when our cadre was approached by this woman.

The Middle Downs? The marshal stared at Falcone in disbelief. And only this morning? Then how did you"

She brought us here, Falcone said with a shrug as though that were all the explanation he had.

The marshals gaze shifted to the woman. Who are you?

Sequana of Opalis, the woman answered, bowing slightly.

The marshals jaw dropped. A t.i.tan!

Yes, Lord Marshal, Sequana answered quietly.

By thunder. Gerhard breathed in wonder. The tales of your kind are legendary among my people. Do your brothers still live? Are the skills of your craft still as powerful and wondrous as in the stories of old?

My brothers live for now, Sequana answered with a gentle and beguiling smile. And how our skills compare to your stories would depend upon how those tales are told.

Then why, may I ask, said the marshal, has Sequana come to the Courts of Valor in Resolute?

To surrender to you, Sequana answered softly.

General Karpasic sat on his horse among his warriors on the plain north of Opalis. Captain Halik urged his own horse up next to the general as the warriors shifted aside to make room for him.

Everyone had their eyes on the North Gate of the city.

Are you certain he will be coming out? the general asked in a low, irritated voice.

The sorcerer said he would open these gates as soon as the refugee caravans were organized inside the city, Halik replied. Captain Bennis The general scowled at the mention of the name.

Captain Bennis sent a message out this morning with one of their legions squires saying that they would be evacuating the city today, Halik continued. He said they would leave by this gate.

You neednt look so worried, Halik, General Karpasic sneered. I gave that Obsidian sorcerer my word that none of them would be harmed and that your friend the traitor captain could lead them back to Hilt.

Begging your pardon, General, Halik said, his eyes fixed on his commander. Are those your intentions?

The general looked sideways at Halik. Why do you ask?

You have occasionally interpreted your orders from the Obsidians with broad lat.i.tude, replied Halik carefully.

Indeed I have. Karpasic chuckled as he turned to look again upon the North Gate. However, in this particular case, I am in complete agreement with that sniveling sorcerer Evard. The longer these people believe they are being led to freedom, the easier it will be to deliver them into the hands of the Obsidians, and the sooner they may be reshaped into the creatures that will swell the ranks of my army. I am, as you can readily see, the most obedient servant in the Obsidian Cause, especially on those occasions when their purposes suit my own.

Then we are to let them pa.s.s unhindered, said Halik.

Hardly, Karpasic said, setting his jaw firmly against the thought. The arrangement is that the citizens may leave the city with their pitiful personal possessions and nothing more. They are to leave all their weaponry behind and, more important, all their coins, gold, gems, jewels, and riches of the city. That is why your men are here, Halik. I want everyone and everything coming out of the city inspected and searched. Every wagon, every cart, every chest, barrel, and bag. Every man, woman, and child is to have every pocket turned out and every fold cloth examined, prodded, and pinched. Not so much as a garnet or copper piece is to leave the city.

And what of Captain Bennis? Halik asked. His voice was low and troubled.

What of him?

What will be his fate? Halik pressed further for an answer.

Why, he will deliver his precious refugees into the hands of his conspirator Evard Dirae, said the general, a strange smile playing about his lips. And what his fate will be then, at their hands, will be something you will tell me.

Im not sure I understand.

Because, Captain Halik, General Karpasic said as he turned toward the young captain, it will be your charge to follow the refugees to Hilt and deliver our dear Captain Bennis over to the Cabal of the Obsidians for what I believe will be the last time. I have handpicked a unit of elves to help you do just that.

You mean, Im l-leaving? Halik sputtered. But, General, I am due a share of this campaign!

A share I will personally increase tenfold when you return, Karpasic answered. It will be worth it just to be rid of Bennis once and for all.

The sound of the timber bar shifting against the wood of the far side of the gate was followed by a loud thud. Halik could feel the army tense around him. He turned away from the general to face the wall of the city.

The North Gate was flanked by two towers and the citys wall extending from those in either direction. The magical shield that had protected the city since their arrival, and that had proven to be so costly in their a.s.sault on the Fields Gate, could still be seen extending above the wall despite the daylight shining down upon the plain. The elegant and remarkable towers of the citadel within the city rose high up over the walls, taunting the Westreach Army with the promise of plunder beyond the dreams of avarice. The eyes of all Karpasics army who were within sight of the North Gate were fixed upon it.

The enormous gates shifted. Slowly at first, and then with increasing speed, they swung inward toward the city.

Halik found himself holding his breath along with every warrior around him. The promise of riches without further pain or sacrifice seemed almost within their reach.

CHAPTER.

26.

The Open Door Are you sure this is going to work? Syenna whispered into the air between them.

No, Aren answered in hushed tones into that same air. But who is sure of anything anymore?

Syenna sat upright, her back stiff as the horse beneath her walked down the tunnel between the two sets of gates. She felt vulnerable without her armor. She especially felt the absence of her sword and scabbard. It had hung so long at her side that it had almost become part of her. Now it lay abandoned among the pile of weapons left in the center of the marketplace along with every other weapon in the city.

She turned slightly in her saddle to look at Aren. She wondered for a moment why it was that his strange weapon would be the only one carried out of this place by anyone whom she was willing to call a friend. Everything had been arranged according to Arens will, but now, faced with the helpless reality before her, powerless before their enemies on open ground, she wondered if Aren had some private game that he was playing with all of their lives.

Aren rode on the back of his own horse beside her. He wore what remained of his Obsidian armor; the breastplates and backplates and one of the spike-adorned shoulder guards. He even looks like one of them, Syenna thought.

Behind them were arrayed all the citizens of Opalis, prepared to follow them through the gates and, they hoped, to longer life.

Youre sure about the t.i.tans? Syenna asked, and not for the first time.

Grannus has remained to maintain the shield, Aren answered. You can see that for yourself.

But the others"

Each of them has sent word, Aren rea.s.sured her once more. Everything is as ready as it can be made.

Is that ready enough? she asked.

Well, we are about to find out, Aren said as their horses walked through the outer gate of the city.

The Westreach Army continued to maintain its encirclement of the city, but now, facing them across the causeway of the North Gate, they seemed a formidable and continuous wall.

Syenna slowed her horse. Doubt filled her mind.

Stay with me, Aren growled back at her. They have to know we believe this!

Syenna swallowed and urged her horse forward next to Aren. Together they slowly rode the length of the causeway until they were within a dozen strides of their forward pike line. Aren stopped his horse and waited.

A large man in shining black armor stepped forward through the ranks, a captain at his side.

Aren bowed slightly from his saddle. General Karpasic. An unexpected honor.

The general turned his gaze toward Captain Halik at his side.

Hardly unexpected, Captain Bennis, Halik said. General Karpasic has come to accept the surrender of the city of Opalis from its rightful sovereign lord. Where is he?

He is sitting on this horse in front of you, Aren replied.

Wh-what? Karpasic sputtered, glaring at Halik. What is he talking about?

The t.i.tans of Opalis and its city elders convened yesterday and surrendered the city to me, Aren replied, ignoring the generals snub. I accepted their surrender on behalf of the Obsidian Cause just last night.