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An army! Karpasics eyes bulged slightly. His mind was still fixed on Benniss betrayal and was having trouble forming an understanding around the captains words. What are you blathering about? What army?
No one saw it c-coming, the captain stammered. The victory had been won. Everyone was within the city walls.
The general grabbed Odman by the front of his breastplate just beneath his chin, dragging his face within inches of the generals own.
What army! the general demanded.
They come under the standard of Norgard, the captain replied, sweat breaking out on his forehead. Our scouts had reported them far to the west, at the base of the mountains the Pillars of Night. No one saw their approach"
Call to arms! the general shouted, and he shoved the captain toward the gap in the citadel wall. Get the army to the walls! If Bennis thinks he can trap me here in a siege We cannot outlast a siege! Captain Odman shouted back at the general.
You idiot! the general snapped. We own the city! The food stores here alone"
Are useless, Odman interrupted. Ive had several reports over the last hour of warriors becoming violently ill from the supplies theyve liberated. I believe the citizens here poisoned their food and drink stores before they left.
But our own supply wagons"
Are outside the city walls, Odman reminded the general.
General Milos Karpasic, Supreme Lord of the Westreach Army, fell silent. His eyes shifted back and forth, his mind racing, but he was somehow unable to comprehend anything but the distant laughter that came, imagined, to his ears from across the prairie to the east.
Then we have to break the siege at once, Karpasic said at last. We have to break through the enemy lines while we still have the strength! Bring the captains to me! Were about to show these Norgard sc.u.m what fear is all about!
By dawn the next day, General Karpasic had those of his troops within the town who were not still posted to the walls prepared to charge out of the citys North Gate. He was determined to lead with the ogres to break the Norgard line, followed by the satyrs and fauns at their flanks to open up the gap even farther. Elves would bolster those lines to help widen the gap while the bulk of the army charged through the opening to the plains beyond. Karpasic told himself that leaving the city gates open behind them, the Norgard army would abandon pursuit of him and his forces in favor of taking the town just as he had done the day before.
Karpasic ordered the North Gate opened.
Beyond, he could see the Legions of Norgard waiting for them.
Karpasic smiled, telling himself that his enemy had no idea what was about to hit them.
And, for the last time, he was wrong.
The t.i.tan Boreus had told them exactly what to expect.
The Legions of Norgard were prepared.
Aren sat astride his horse, a cloak pulled tightly around him as he looked down the slope to the column of refugees winding in his direction from the south. They were following the trail Syenna had marked out for them along the east bank of the upper reaches of the West Jaana River and into the long mountain bowl known as Highvale.
It had been a difficult journey. They had made an abrupt turn to the north in the middle of that first night and traveled with barely a rest for the horses and oxen before pressing on into the next evening. They wound their way around the Middle Downs and eventually through Monks Hood Pa.s.s into the southern parts of the Highvale. There, they found the upper reaches of their familiar friend, the West Jaana River, and followed it northward, higher into the long mountain bowl.
We should make camp. Syenna sat on her own horse side by side with Aren, gazing back at the approaching column. Well need to be rested for the climb tomorrow into Resolute, and I dont think were likely to find a better place to stop before nightfall.
Aren turned around. They were both stopped just short of the tree line. The air was scented with pine from the forest to the north behind them. Will we make it tomorrow?
To Resolute, certainly. Syenna nodded. Sequana has made all the arrangements with Marshal Nimbus. You do realize that the t.i.tans surrendered their people to Nimbus, not you.
I may have been mistaken on that point when I addressed the general, Aren said through a loud, exaggerated sigh. I promise to apologize for that error the next time we meet.
And when do you expect that to be?
Not soon, and certainly not in this world, Aren replied as he turned his gaze back down over the long mountain bowl beneath them. He got the treasure he deserved, and the t.i.tans got to keep the treasure they wanted.
And what about you? Syenna asked, turning in her saddle to face Aren. What did you get out of this?
Aren grinned back at her. He reached down, patting the sword that hung at his side.
Syenna gazed at the sword for a moment, and then her eyes widened. The pommel! All three of the symbols blades are shining!
Yes. Aren nodded.
When did that happen?
Not long after we left Opalis, Aren replied, his gaze returning to the mountain bowl before them.
What does it mean? Syenna asked breathlessly.
I asked the loremistress that very question, Aren answered. She said it had something to do with the ancient Virtues that somehow I had honored them, and the symbols had responded. Maybe it was supposed to empower the sword, or maybe it was just a way for the Avatars to know they were on the right path. Given the circ.u.mstances at the time, she believes they each had something to do with things like truth or courage or compa.s.sion. However, she also pointed out that there are a number of other symbols on the sword that are still dull and have yet to shine so I guess Im not yet perfect.
Hardly. Syenna chuckled.
Well, the loremistress says she will have to do more research before she can say for certain, Aren said through a smirk.
Its not very complete, you know, Syenna said.
What isnt complete?
Their knowledge of the past, Syenna said quietly into the still mountain air. So much was lost during the Fall of the Sky. I was speaking with Loremistress Lanilan earlier today. Despite the t.i.tans struggle to maintain the knowledge of their own machines, for all their searching, they have not been able to find or even piece together what it was that the Avatars brought to the world. They still dont know what caused the Fall, let alone how to prevent it from happening again. They could not even tell you now whether the Avatars were trying to prevent the end of the world that was lost, or if they caused it.
Then what has been the point of all this? Aren asked, continuing to gaze down on the refugees streaming into the meadow below them.
The Loremistress says that the t.i.tans have a plan, Syenna answered. They believe they can use what they know of their ancestors machines to build a great device"an oracle of such power that it may be able to recover the wisdom and knowledge that was lost perhaps even find a way to bring the Avatars back into the world if they still exist.
Or whether their return would be good or bad. Aren sighed. Ive got the blade of an Avatar"and I still dont know if it is a blessing or a curse.
Syenna turned in her saddle, looking at Aren with searching eyes.
You saved my sister from dying by my own hand, she said. You saved the knowledge of the past so it could be preserved. You saved the people of Opalis from death and misery.
And, while youre about it, Aren said, shaking his head, do not forget to include that all these things Ive done will no doubt also prompt the Obsidian Cause to react in a most unhealthy way. All these currently grateful refugees may reconsider their opinion of me once the Obsidians realize that there are forces in South Paladis that can oppose them. Let us see just how heroic I appear when the full strength of the Obsidian Army falls on them because of what Ive done.
You wield a blade of the Avatars, Syenna said with a smirk. Something about you must be right.
Yes, I am indeed such a magnificent hero, Aren agreed, suddenly flashing his broad grin. And would you be so good as to explain that to our guest? My old friend Nik Halik seems a bit skeptical on that score since I forced his surrender the first night after we left Opalis.
Well, you cant really blame him. Syenna smiled at the thought. All of us had given up our swords.
All of us except one, Aren corrected, resting his hand on the pommel of his sword.
All except one, Syenna agreed, her smile broadening into a grin.
CHAPTER.
28.
Thundering Silence.
Evard Dirae stood at the crossroads of the Broken Road and waited, just as he had waited for twelve days. In the evenings, he would prepare a meager meal and contemplate the gathering darkness. In the night, he would lie on the ground, a stick propping up his robe over his head to shelter him from the wind across the prairie that never seemed to stop. Then, in the morning, he would awaken, prepare his breakfast, and again wait with watchful eyes looking down the Broken Road to the south for some sign of his old friends approach.
Evard was, he knew, hardly alone. A detachment of warriors over two hundred strong, each hed handpicked, was encamped near the mountain pa.s.s that led through the Blackblade Mountains back to Hilt. The captain in charge of them was awaiting only the sign from Evard"a homunculus that Evard had reserved for the purpose"before ordering the marching of his command to capture the refugees as they approached. They were prepared on short notice to march northwest and southwest, so as to encircle the approaching column of weary Opalis citizens. In that moment, their flesh would be sealed to the monstrous fate that Evard had planned for them in service to the Obsidian Cause.
Yet nothing had come up the road from the south. It was not just a matter of missing the column of refugees"that could easily be explained as simply being slowed by the weakest from among them"but no rider, no trade wagon or caravan, no pilgrim wanderer had appeared from that direction either.
Certainly, Karpasic would have dispatched someone with the news, someone crowing about his captured city and its treasures by now.
As the twelfth day drew to a close, Evard stood up and whistled softly. The leather-winged form of the homunculus appeared as though it had risen from a shadow on the plain. It hopped once and, beating its wings, lit upon Evards shoulder, its hand resting upon his head as it craned its flat face around, peering at the sorcerer.
Evard started to whistle a familiar tune to the homunculus.
Arens tune.
When he had completed it, he reached up. The creature stepped onto his forearm, its claws digging into his flesh as it turned to face him. The creature was already anxious and agitated, driven to find, in the gathering night, the notes it had just heard.
Evard spoke simply to the creature.
Where are you? Do you need me to come?
Then, with a sweep of his arm, he released the dark, winged creature, sending it into the twilight sky.
Through many nights to come, wherever Evard journeyed in the service of the Obsidians, he would repeat the ritual. Sometimes with one creature, and sometimes with dozens, but each time the creature would return exhausted and silent.
Those notes were never answered.
The song had gone forever silent.
THE END OF BOOK ONE.
NOVELS BY TRACY HICKMAN AND RICHARD GARRIOTT.
The Sword of Midras*
NOVELS BY TRACY AND LAURA HICKMAN.
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Unwept*
Unhonored* (forthcoming).
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Mystic Quest.
Mystic Empire.
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Eventide.
Swept Up by the Sea.
St. Nicholas and the Dragon.
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Secret of the Dragon*
Rage of the Dragon*
Doom of the Dragon*
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