The Final Storm (34 page)
“Not a very wise thing to do,” Falon said. “It was fortunate for you that I was in the area. When I found you, you had both begun to turn blue. But Falon’s coils warmed you right up, hmmm?”
Aidan sat bolt upright. “But Falon, you’re out of your lair. You’re out in the open! How is that possible?”
“Ah, you remember!” Falon laughed. “Yes, normally, to be out under sun or moon would spell the end for old Falon. But this mist, this dark canopy, is over everything from Mithegard to Alleble. I found that I could endure it.”
“What were you doing on the Grimwalk?” Antoinette asked.
“When I discovered that I could move about,” Falon explained, “I decided to pay Paragor a little visit. I owe him much, young Antoinette, for he and his brood have all but destroyed the race of mortiwraiths . . . taking the blood of my kind for their poison. But when I came calling to his little castle, Paragor was not at home. Pity. And there were very few of his knights about either.”
“Paragor has taken his armies to attack Alleble,” said Aidan. “Oh, no! How long did we sleep?”
“Since last night,” Falon replied. “It is hard to tell in this bleak mist, but I deem that it is near midday.”
“Falon, we’ve got to get to Alleble!”
“Paragor is there, you say?”
“Yes,” Aidan replied. “He has a massive army.”
“But that’s not all, Falon,” Antoinette said. “He has monsters—the Seven Sleepers and the Wyrm Lord.”
“The Wyrm Lord, really?” Falon said, laughing mischievously. “I thought King Eliam found a nice warm spot for that old dragon.”
“He did,” Aidan replied. “But Paragor let him out.”
“Dangerous creature, that one,” Falon said. “But then again, so am I.”
“Will you take us?” Aidan asked. “Will you take us to Alleble?”
“I would do this even if I was not hungry,” said Falon. “But I am starving, yesss, famished! And I have an old score to settle with Paragor.”
F
rom their team’s vantage point Mallik and Nock could see the world was roofed with a dark, swirling mantle of storm clouds. The turbulent clouds extended above the city, but the shadowy pall below advanced only within a hundred yards of the main gate. Lightning crackled overhead, illuminating the city and the pale faces of many warriors in an eerie green light. Thunder rolled and crashed.
“What is it?” Mallik asked, staring out from a great height on the parapet of the new city walls.
“It is certainly not like any storm I have ever seen before,” said Nock, and he adjusted the leather straps across his shoulders. He was not used to wearing two quivers—his usual quiver filled with Blackwood Arrows for his longbow on his back and now a smaller hard leather quiver full of bolts for the arbalest at his side.
“Paragor’s devilry, no doubt,” said Sir Rogan, fingering his axe.
“Well, let him come,” Mallik said. “He will find the walls of
adorite
hard enough to break his teeth on.” Robby and Trenna laughed.
“Adorite?” asked Thrivenbard, his eyebrow raised.
“So named by King Brower,” Mallik replied. “Delved by my kin from the face of Pennath Ador, this white rock is the hardest stone in all The Realm. Adorite it is called, the
glorystone
.”
“I have heard it called by another name,” said Halberad, “as I ran errands among your people at the foot of the mountains. They called it
faercrag
. What does that mean?”
Mallik laughed. “That is
fire rock
in the old language of my people.”
Halberad nodded. “Ah, I should have guessed!”
“Now, I do not understand,” came a quiet voice from behind.
“Ah, Sir Valden,” said Thrivenbard. “You were so quiet I did not notice you standing there.”
“Just wait until the fighting starts,” Robby said, grinning. Valden’s peaceful eyes narrowed, and he glared at Robby. When Robby’s smile disappeared, Valden grinned and they both laughed.
“To answer your question,” Mallik explained, “some call the white stone fire rock due to its peculiar reaction to blunt force. Often when we struck the rock with our picks and hammers, it would spark. And—”
“That is not unusual,” interrupted Sir Rogan. “There are other stones that do that . . . flint, slate, and such.”
“To spark? Yes, that is common,” Mallik said. “But you did not let me finish. The adorite does more than spark. On an especially hard strike, a lick of white fire would appear. Its heat was intense—a few of my brethren were burned. But then we learned to flush the stone with snowmelt as we worked!”
The knights continued to talk casually among themselves, but while the smiles and laughter were brave, they were also full of apprehension. None of them had seen anything like what they were witnessing. And they knew that somewhere in the heart of that darkness, Paragor and his armies were coming.
Near another part of the battlements, Kaliam and Farix led Warriant and all three thousand of his Baleneers up an avenue. The Glimpses of Alleble and all of the citizens of their allies stared out at the newcomers. They were fierce in countenance and wore peculiar shingled armor on their chest and shoulders, but none save boots on their legs.
Perhaps their legs are too big?
some thought, for indeed, the warriors from Balesparr had massive thighs and calves that bulged out of the tops of their cloth boots. They looked very powerful—and menacing. Each Baleneer had a very long quiver slung on his back. These were crammed full of the terrible long spears that they called bales.
They came to a wide ramp to the right of the main gatehouse and halted there. Kaliam turned to Warriant. “Queen Illaria and King Ravelle have stationed their archers near every tower upon the battlements,” he said. “Send one team of your spearmen to join every two teams of archers. Two thousand on the walls and the others in reserve. We will house them in the barracks behind the walls and along the main thoroughfare where the fountains are. If the walls fail, they will need to cover our retreat.”
“It will be done as you say,” Warriant replied. “But, if I may, we should take the reserves and go to the tallest towers and high places of the city. We can be very effective at great heights.”
Kaliam nodded. “Then choose what heights you may.”
Warriant raced off, shouting commands to his forces.
“You know,” Kaliam said quietly to Farix, “there is something in Warriant’s gaze that is disturbing.”
Farix nodded. “I have seen it too,” he said. “Not troubling in the sense that he might betray us. But something wild.”
“Yes,” Kaliam agreed. “Like an untamed animal that has just been let out of a cage.”
All of the defenses of Alleble were in order. The storm continued to churn above, but the lightning and thunder were not as fierce as before. Kaliam and his commanders stood on the main battlement above the gate to the city. Robby paced back and forth . . . waiting.
“This is not Paragor’s usual pattern of attack,” said King Ravelle. “He hits hard first, and attempts to overwhelm with brute force. That is what he did in my city.”
“And in Clarion, Yewland, and the Blue Mountains,” Kaliam agreed. “Why does he wait?”
“Perhaps not all of his forces are in place,” offered Lord Sternhilt. “We have not yet seen so much as a single Paragor Knight.”
“And yet, I feel he is out there,” Kaliam said.
“In that murk, who can tell?” said Farix.
“There is one way to find out,” said Warriant.
“You do not mean to go down there?” Lady Merewen asked. “It is perilous beyond that curtain of darkness.”
“You sound as if you have been in there,” Warriant said, scoffing at her cautions.
“I have, Sir Warriant,” she replied. “In the Blackwood this darkness surrounded us. It changes your senses, and evil things lurk there. We were fortunate to have survived.”
“Apologies, m’lady,” Warriant said. “I will stay alert.”
“You mean you still plan to go?” Lady Merewen asked.
“By Kaliam’s leave, yes,” he replied. “We will go in just far enough to find Paragor’s position. My people are stealthy. We will be careful.” He looked questioningly at Kaliam.
Kaliam nodded slowly. “You have my leave,” he said. Then he turned to King Ravelle. “Send a squad to man the gates. Shut them behind as soon as they leave, but be prepared to open them at a moment’s notice!”
Warriant turned and looked at Kaliam strangely. “Gates?” he asked. “Who said anything about gates?” And with that, he nodded to a group of his Baleneers, and to the terror of all, they leaped off the battlements.
Kaliam and the others rushed to the parapet just in time to see them land softly on their feet. The other Baleneers, the ones who still stood high on the walls, turned and grinned.
Kaliam turned to Farix. “I cannot believe they just did that.”
The Baleneers did move stealthily, making swift dashes from tree to tree over the plains. At last, they passed silently into the gloom.
Those atop the walls watched them as if through a veil, until they had gone too deep into the murk for anyone to see them. A great silence settled over the ramparts as those who watched waited.
Then came a sound as if from far away. It was like the echo of screams. And then again, louder and more terrible. Agonized, wrenching screams—some cut short suddenly. Others wailed until a few figures ran out of the gloom.
“The gates!” Kaliam yelled. “Open the gates!!”
Immediately, the triple portcullis lifted, and five knights ran inside. “Close the gates!” Warriant yelled.
“But there were others?” asked the guard.
“Close them now!” Warriant commanded. “The others are dead.”
O
f the five who fled the darkness and made it back into the city, Warriant was the only one still standing. The other Baleneers were taken into the barracks for medical attention.
“What happened?” Kaliam yelled. Warriant looked up, a maniacal, angry glint in his eyes.
“Wolvins!” Warriant yelled. “The biggest I have ever seen. They tore my men apart in front of me. I put a bale into the chest of one of the creatures. It bit off the end and kept coming.”
“The Sleepers!” Farix exclaimed. “Sound the alarm! Paragor’s armies are here!”
But out of the shroud, before the bells of Alleble could be rung, a piercing wail arose. It began as a shriek that drove knights to their knees and then lowered to an unearthly rumbling roar that shook the walls with its thunder. From the edge of the darkness a volley of a hundred flaming projectiles soared into the turbulent sky. A hail of arrows followed, fired from unseen longbows. And then thousands of soldiers in dark armor streamed out from the murk. They carried battering rams, tall ladders, and grappling hooks and assaulted Alleble’s walls in a hundred places at once.
The fiery missiles landed beyond the gates, some reaching almost as far as the first fountain. They crushed cottages and small keeps, leaving hot fires wherever they fell. Several landed in the midst of companies of Alleble Knights running to support those upon the walls. Hit by arrows, archers and knights fell from Alleble’s walls into the teeming broods below.
But Alleble was ready for this first attack. Legions of knights within the walls pumped gallons of snowmelt from the enormous vats used days before in the crafting of the walls. Fires were doused as soon as they sprang up, and the knights were ready for ten times that first wave.
And atop the walls, Queen Illaria, King Ravelle, and an infuriated Warriant gave the orders for their teams to open fire. Nock and some of the archers began with their new arbalests. They loosed a first volley of darts—these made from the sturdy timber of the Blackwood—and the enemy’s front line dropped as if a great mat had been ripped from under their feet. The archers were stationed two-deep so that after firing, the second archer stepped forward while the first reloaded. The Paragor Knights raised their shields, but that mattered little, if but to throw off the archers’ aim. The bolts launched from the arbalests hit the enemy’s shields and passed through them as if they were made of paper. And the ground nearest the foot of the castle walls became littered with the enemy’s dead.