King of Foxes (40 page)

He hurried down the corridor that led into the wizard’s first room, and as he neared the door, he felt the hair on his arms and neck stand up. He halted and without hesitation shouted, “Back!”

Those behind him hesitated for a moment, then the retreat began, just as a shrieking sound of unbearable volume split the air. Men covered their ears and howled in pain. Tal, who was closest to the door, suffered the worst.

His legs wobbled and threatened to buckle as he staggered backward.

When he reached the far end of the corridor, the sound stopped. Tal shook his head to clear his vision.

Without a word, he signaled to Masterson to tear down the door. Masterson nodded, rage etched upon his face, and charged the door.

If Varen had expected Tal and the others to have fled or to be lying stunned in the hallway, he was mistaken.

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Masterson’s massive ax struck the wood to the center of the hasp and shattered it, sending splinters flying. He struck it three more times and the planks fell away. With a kick of one huge foot, he smashed the wood between hinges and lock plate, and the door fell open. He charged in with Tal only steps behind him.

Twenty-five men entered the room with Tal. At the far end the magician, Leso Varen, stood alone. The slender magic-user looked more annoyed than fearful, and all he said was, “This really is just too much.”

Then he waved his hand, and abruptly Tal was en-gulfed in pain. He could barely stand, and his sword fell from fingers that refused to obey him. Other men writhed on the floor or fell to their hands and knees, vomiting.

Tal saw men falling unconscious on all sides. Only Masterson seemed able to keep his feet, and the large man staggered with each step. Seeing that the huge fighter was somehow resisting his magic, Varen sighed as if he was out of patience. He picked up what looked to be a slender wand of dark wood, pointed it at the ax-wielding man, and spoke a few words.

Flames surrounded Masterson’s head and shoulders, and he howled in agony, letting the ax fall. He went to his knees slapping uselessly at the flames, which were tinged an evil green color, and which filled the room with an oily smoke and the stench of burning flesh.

Tal struggled to move forward, although every one of his muscles tried to contract in spasm. He could not will his fingers to close around his sword where it lay near his open hand. In a desperate act of will he drew the dagger from his belt, mustered his remaining strength, and hurled it at the magician.

It flew true, but Varen merely stood still and the blade halted inches from him, falling to the floor with a clatter _______________

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as if hitting an invisible wall. Then he walked to stand over Tal and looked down on him.

“Talwin Hawkins, isn’t it? I am surprised,” he said softly, his voice just loud enough to cut through the moans and weeping of the other men in the room. He glanced at Tal’s right arm and said, “I thought they were going to chop that off you.” He sighed. “That’s the problem with Kaspar’s people. You just can’t rely upon them to attend to details. First you were supposed to die in Salador and didn’t have the grace to do that, then you turn up here unexpectedly with an army . . . it’s all very annoying, Talwin!” He glanced around the room. “If Kaspar can’t keep this city of his, I’m going to have to move . . .

again! That is really upsetting.” He leaned over so that his face was only inches from Tal’s as the young man fought to stay sitting upright, refusing to fall to the floor. “You’re quite a stubborn boy, aren’t you?” asked Varen. He gently pushed Tal to the right, and Tal promptly fell over.

“I don’t suppose this is all your fault; after all, you can’t just whistle up a Keshian army . . . not to mention that bunch down on the river from the Isles. I’d love to know how you contrived to get Ryan and Carol to agree on anything, but time is limited, so I just can’t spare a moment to chat.” Leso Varen walked away and looked out of the window. “Now, that doesn’t look good. Keshians on the wall and a troop of men I don’t recognize opening the gate to the bailey. This just won’t do.”

He opened the window and directed his wand out of it. Tal could feel him discharging his magic at those below. But Tal noticed that each time Varen did so, the pain he was experiencing lessened slightly. His vision no longer threatened to fail him, and he could move a little.

After a few moments of raining burning terror down on those below, Varen turned to Tal again. “Well, as much _______________

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fun as this has been, it’s time for you to die,” he said. He put away his wand and took a dagger out of his robe. With purposeful steps he crossed the floor, heading directly for Tal.

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Creed’s men were on the walls before the Olaskan defenders realized they had been taken from the rear. The Keshians had come through the city like a prairie fire in summer, and those Olasko soldiers who had been ordered to retreat in order had hit the gate in full flight.

Men on the walls with their eyes on Keshian Dog Soldiers carrying scaling ladders and siege turtles suddenly found enemies on the wall beside them, with others hurrying up the stone stairs to the battlements. Archers who should have been raining fletched death down on the Keshians were instead struggling in hand-to-hand combat with armed invaders.

Creed looked around and nodded in satisfaction as his flying company reached the gate, overpowering the squad there and began opening it to admit the Keshians.

Just then an explosion of fire struck to the right of the gate, sending men on both sides flying through the air. A second, then a third detonation of energy caused men to duck for cover or just turn and run. Creed spun to see a man in a robe look down for a moment, then turn away.

Whatever the magician thought he was doing, he created more confusion, which aided the invaders. Creed shouted orders for his company to finish opening the gate, and once he saw it thrown open, he knew this part of the fight would be over in less than another half hour.

Seeing the state of the struggle up on the wall, Creed began directing soldiers still coming out of the tunnels toward a pair of doors at the base of the citadel. So fast _______________

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had the attack been that they still stood open. He could send his soldiers inside to support Quint’s and Tal’s forces.

He glanced up at the citadel and wondered how the fighting there fared. With the Keshians inside the walls, the battle was decided; Kaspar’s army would be defeated—he saluted Tal’s ingenuity and hoped the lad lived long enough to see the end of it.

As Keshian soldiers hurried through the gate carrying scaling ladders, Creed waved over to the captain in command of the Keshian assault forces. “We’re inside already!” yelled Creed, pointing to the gates. “Set your scaling ladders there and there”—he pointed to two spots—“and we’ll shred their forces from both sides.”

The captain acknowledged the suggestion and sent his men to the indicated locations. Creed took one last look around to ensure that everything was going as planned and saw with satisfaction that Olaskan soldiers were throwing down their weapons and begging quarter up on the wall.

Creed motioned for a squad held in reserve to follow him inside the citadel. He hoped Captain Quint was having as easy a time as he had.

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Captain Quint Havrevulen knelt behind a makeshift barricade—an overturned table in the soldiers’ mess. He and his men had entered the armory, only to discover that the Duke’s ready company of reserves had been billeted in the mess so they could be easily dispatched to any part of the citadel.

Unfortunately for Quint, he could not get enough men through the door to mount a sustained assault. Twice he had led a dozen or so men out from the large pantry _______________

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from which they accessed the mess, only to be driven back. Now they had archers on the balcony above the mess, and any man of Quint’s who moved was likely to be sprouting arrows.

The only thing that had kept the invaders from being overwhelmed was the breastwork of tables they had erected, for every soldier of Olasko who tried to come over it was killed. A mercenary next to Quint winced visibly every time a shaft struck the wood or the wall behind him. “We going to find a way out of this, Captain?” he asked.

“Damn me if I know,” answered Quint. “But I’m getting pretty bored just sitting here.” He glanced around.

“Here, help me push this table farther out.” He motioned to another pair of men to help him. They moved the table forward about four feet, and Quint signaled for some other men to do likewise with the tables on either side.

Soon they had enough room for an additional dozen men to crawl out of the pantry and prepare for another assault.

Just as Quint was getting ready to charge, a voice shouted out, “You dogs ready to surrender?”

Quint shouted back, “Who died and put you in charge, Alexi?”

There was a moment of silence, then the voice said,

“Quint? Is that you?”

“None other,” shouted Quint.

“We thought you’d be dead by now.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I had other plans.”

“The Duke will reward me greatly if I bring him your head, my captain.”

“All you have to do is come get it,” shouted the former Special Captain of the Olaskon army. When no answer was forthcoming, he added, “Or perhaps you’d like to talk about things first?”

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“What do you have in mind?”

“Parley.”

Again there was silence, then the officer named Alexi said, “I can hear you just fine from here. Speak your mind.”

“A couple of thousand Keshian Dog Soldiers should be through your gates by now, Alexi. There are two other companies of mercenaries already in the citadel and more coming though from tunnels back behind you every minute. You may have us bottled up here, but I’ll warrant if you send runners, you’ll find that other units are hard pressed on all fronts. You can’t win. But if you call a halt to the fighting, you and your men can live.”

“And if I call a halt to the fighting and you’re telling tales, the Duke will have my guts for garters.”

“Send runners. Ask for intelligence. I can wait.” Quint grinned at the soldiers nearby. “I’m not in a hurry as long as my side’s winning.”

There was a very long silence, then the officer named Alexi said, “You’re a lot of things, Captain Quint, but you’ve never been a liar. What terms are you offering?”

“We’ve no issue with men who are only following orders. Put down your weapons and you’ll be paroled. I don’t know who’s going to be running things after this is over, but whoever it is, he’ll need soldiers to keep the peace in Olasko. There you have it. Wait, and when the other companies start breaking down the doors at your back, we’ll come over these damn tables. If you surrender now, everyone gets to live another day. We can even sit down and have an ale together when the dust settles.

What’ll it be?”

“I’ll send runners, Quint, and I’ll tell my men not to shoot as long as you stay down behind those tables.

Agreed?”

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“Agreed!” Quint put his sword away, indicating to his men that they could relax and lie down for a while without worry. “This may work out well,” he whispered. He ventured a look and saw that the bowmen had put their bows down and were leaning on them, while the crossbowmen had lowered their weapons. He sat back. “Hope things are going this well elsewhere,” he said.

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TWENTY

RESOLUTION

Tal watched.

Leso Varen approached slowly, the dagger hanging loosely in his grip. Tal felt pain in every part of his body, but it was manageable, less than he had endured after his rescue by Pasko and Robert, less than when he had been attacked by the death-dancers, less than when his arm had been cut off. He focused on that, that he had endured more pain and lived.

He drew strength from within and waited, for he knew he would get only one opportunity to strike at the magician. Tal let his head loll as if he had no strength to raise it.

Varen ignored the other soldiers nearby. When he got close, he said, “Talwin, I am impressed. You’re far more resilient than I would have thought.

“You know, I told Kaspar I thought there was some-

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thing odd about you when I examined you on the night you took oath. It wasn’t that you revealed duplicity, but rather that you were . . . without any sort of doubt. I suspected you had been trained somehow, but had you been a magic-user, you would not have lived more than a minute once you were inside this room.” He gestured.

“I’ve placed wards everywhere.” He sighed, as if over-tasked. “I have enemies, you know.” He waved his hand at a far wall and it shimmered, then faded away. It had been an illusion, and Tal saw that the room was a full ten feet longer than he had thought. A figure hung from chains on the far wall, naked and bloody. Tal knew instantly who it was: Alysandra. He couldn’t tell if she was alive or not, and it took all of his concentration to ready himself for one last attempt to defend himself. Varen said, “Our lovely Lady Rowena tried to kill me.” His voice rose to a near shriek.
“She tried to kill me!”

He turned his back on Tal and hurried to where the limp form hung. “She thought to seduce me!” He laughed, then turned to face Tal and spoke quickly.

“Look, I enjoy a tumble as much as the next man, but there are times when such things are merely a distraction.

Besides, the energies are all wrong for what I’m doing these days. It’s terribly life-affirming and generative and all that, but right now, my efforts are entirely concentrated in the opposite direction, if you take my meaning.

So, rather than some fun between the sheets—and a dagger in my back—I thought she could contribute to my work in a good way—or bad, from her point of view.” He laughed, and Tal knew that by any measure the man was completely mad.