Siege of Stone

by Terry Goodkind

  Ava disagreed. “We know it was a spell, a powerful one. And we can be sure the wizards of Ildakar wielded it against us.”

  Ruva touched the general’s face, ran her palm along his beard, his scarred cheek. It seemed a loving caress, but she was investigating. Ava reached out to do the same thing to her sister. “Stone. We’ve been turned to stone.”

  “And back,” said Ruva.

  “Not all the way back. We are still flesh and blood, but there’s a hardness throughout.” Utros glared at the walled city backlit by the rising sun. Now that his shock was dissipating into a sea of questions, he noticed subtle changes in Ildakar. Some of the buildings inside were burned, and tendrils of greasy smoke smeared the sky.

  He said, “Their wizards petrified us with some kind of spell, but the magic they would need to immobilize so many thousands of warriors is beyond my comprehension.” He gestured toward the raised city above the river. “Look at Ildakar now. Something’s happened there. Those fires … maybe there has been a civil war.”

  “Could that be what awakened us?” Ruva asked.

  Ava said, “Maybe the wizard who cast the stone spell is dead, so the magic faded.”

  Thousands of his front ranks, responding to their desperate confusion, marched forward to throw themselves against the wall and the gates in what seemed to be a futile gesture.

  “They are angry,” Ruva said.

  “Let them be angry,” Utros said.

  His men had been trained so well they could mount an assault in their sleep. As they crashed toward the walls now in an instinctive reaction, Utros knew there was no purpose to the charge, but he wouldn’t call them back. He did not like unplanned operations, but the sortie would occupy them for a time and give him a chance to decide what to do. If his entire army had been petrified for months or even years, he needed to know more.

  His thoughts spun along different paths, suggesting answers and tracing consequences. He couldn’t explain why all the tents, campfires, and supplies had vanished. He remembered vividly how the entire plain had been trampled by so many soldiers, all the machinery and materials that accompanied such a huge military operation.

  In the previous week, his army had endured three days of cold rain and even an early-season snow. The ground had been a nightmare of muck that should have frozen each night, but all the campfires and troops kept it churned into a mess. Smoke from tens of thousands of fires made the air heavy and bitter. Simply to provide firewood, crews had stripped the hills of trees for miles around, but the distant forest looked thick and healthy now. The landscape had recovered completely.

  He began to suspect that more than a few seasons had passed. How was that possible?

  “General Utros,” said a familiar gruff voice, his battle-scarred first commander, Enoch. Enoch had been with Utros since early in the general’s career. Though ten years older and bearing the scars of many more engagements, Enoch was entirely faithful to Utros. He was a man who understood tactics and quickly grasped the plans his leader gave him, but not so ambitious that he had anything to prove. Enoch did not seek glory for himself, because serving General Utros was entirely sufficient for him. His loyalty to Emperor Kurgan was secondary. The first commander also looked pale and chalky, still partially stone.

  “What happened, General? Something changed, something terrible.”

  Utros stood straight. “You know as much as I do, for the moment, First Commander. Ildakar attacked us with some kind of spell.”

  Enoch frowned, thinking of his specific duty. “Until we learn what’s happened, sir, confusion among the ranks will grow, and that will destroy our military discipline.”

  The general knew the complexities of managing such a huge force, even under the best of conditions. “Do you think the men will be frightened enough to abandon the siege? Is their confusion such that they’ll panic and scatter?”

  Shocked by the suggestion, Enoch gave him a disappointed grimace. “Of course not, General. They will never desert. Each man is yours, heart and soul. But they’ll look to you for explanations. You have to give them something before too long.”

  Utros’s smile was muted by his skin’s stiffness. “Send messengers among the troops and tell them to wait for word from me.” As he scanned the crowded ranks, he noted the few loose horses. “Send riders throughout the valley, have them inform each company that General Utros still leads them and that we will be victorious. I will avenge whatever needs to be avenged.”

  Enoch nodded. “They already know that, sir.”

  “Tell them anyway. First I need to assess our situation.” Before Enoch could depart, Utros snapped more instructions. “It appears we’ve lost everything, so we have to act swiftly. Don’t show panic, don’t even let the men consider the implications, but we have no camp, no firewood, no shelter. If storms should come, we need to have tents. Send crews into the hills to cut down trees, bring supplies back, hunt food. Have them use their swords and battle-axes if necessary.” He knew that the streams across the valley would provide plentiful water, but his soldiers needed a great deal more.

  He looked behind him, dismayed again to see the empty space that had held his large tent. “I need a new command headquarters erected immediately. If they can’t find any fabric for a tent, then have them use wood to build a structure.” He placed his hands on his hips, and the orders continued to flow. Enoch received them all in silence. “Also, launch raiding parties, a hundred of them with twenty men each. Have them ride in all directions and scout what lies around us. Find cities and towns, where they can commandeer the supplies and tools we no longer have.”

  Enoch made a mental note of every instruction. “Yes, General.”

  After Utros dismissed him, Ava and Ruva stood close, silent and calculating. The soldiers milled about, but none dared to approach, not yet. They were awed by General Utros, even though he wasn’t a cruel or ruthless commander, as Iron Fang was a ruthless emperor.

  No wonder sweet Majel had needed a soft touch, love and compassion, even if it meant the two of them were betraying Kurgan in their hearts.

  Utros longed to see her again. It had been half a year since he’d been home to Orogang, the capital of the empire. It seemed like ages since he’d touched Majel’s soft skin, run his fingers through her lush hair, kissed her sweet lips.

  He locked those thoughts in a separate mental compartment. Often as he drifted off to sleep at night, Utros would open that cabinet in his mind to review and rejoice in his times with her. Now, though, he couldn’t afford the distraction. He felt a genuine urgency, which he hoped his soldiers didn’t realize yet. They didn’t have much time.

  With so many thousands of fighters filling the plain outside of Ildakar, entirely without supplies, they would all understand the urgency as soon as they began to starve.

  CHAPTER 4

  As the awakened soldiers continued to pound on the walls of Ildakar, Nicci judged that the city had time, but perhaps not much. Such constant battering might damage the defenses, though the gifted wizards could summon strengthening spells to keep the stone solid.

  The watchers on the high wall didn’t need Nathan’s air lens to see the immensity of the enemy out there. When she served Jagang, Nicci had traveled with the huge armies of the Imperial Order, which had spent decades conquering the Old World, eventually moving north and crossing into the New World. But she had never seen an army such as this.

  She turned to the kind sorceress Elsa, who stood nearby, deeply worried. Other duma members had not yet arrived at the wall, but Nicci knew they had to begin their work soon. “After the revolt last night, the people of Ildakar must work out their political differences, rebuild the city, and strengthen its leadership.” She nodded toward the immense siege force moving toward the city. “Even with their simmering resentments, the factions of Ildakar have a common enemy. Now is the time you can forge a permanent internal peace, make your city strong enough to defeat General Utros. I’d suggest you use this opportunity to solve you
r problems.”

  Elsa remained troubled. “If that’s what the people really want.”

  Barking orders to the city guard, High Captain Stuart ordered standard siege defenses, using boulders, sharp projectiles, boiling oil, and flaming arrows against the soldiers below. From their high strategic position, they could bombard the attackers with no risk to themselves.

  Nicci knew the defenses were in good hands, for now. “Call an emergency meeting in the ruling tower. The duma has been torn apart, but you have to establish a new one. It’s a time of crisis, Elsa. You, Quentin, and Damon still sit on the council, but we have to rally all of Ildakar’s gifted.”

  Elsa said, “We should have added more wizards to the duma a long time ago, ever since the sorceress Lani was turned to stone. We need them more than ever with Wizard Commander Maxim gone, Andre and Ivan both dead, Thora defeated, and Renn off on that fool’s quest to find the Cliffwall archive.”

  Nathan rubbed the center of his chest. “Chief Handler Ivan’s heart still lives within me. I am as gifted and powerful as I ever was, so let’s count our blessings. We’ll work together to defend Ildakar.”

  Bannon frowned, considering. His skin looked paler than usual, which emphasized his freckles. “The revolt still isn’t over in the city. If you have a war council, you can’t call only the gifted nobles. They were part of the problem. You need to listen to the rebels and the freed slaves, as well as the arena warriors. If it comes to a real fight, those are the best soldiers Ildakar has.”

  Lila shot him a glance. “And the morazeth, boy. We are the best fighters.”

  Nathan raised a hand to stall further debate. “It is not a competition. Everyone will defend Ildakar in their own way. I agree with you, dear Elsa. The duma needs to appoint replacement members as soon as possible, and someone has to lead the city, now that we’re at war.”

  Gliding past Nicci, Mrra placed her feline head between the crenellations and peered out at the awakening army in the morning light. The panther growled at the booming of the hardened fists.

  * * *

  When Nicci and her companions entered the main chamber of the ruling tower, the two stone sorceresses had awakened and were locked in battle.

  Sovrena Thora, whom Nicci despised, had been punished for her abuse of the people of Ildakar. Rather than being executed, Thora had suffered the same fate as Utros’s army, cursed by the stone spell. After pronouncing her sentence, Elsa, Quentin, and Damon had petrified her, leaving Thora a defiant statue in the ruling chamber.

  The only other sorceress who had suffered that fate was Lani, after her failed challenge to Thora’s rule, centuries ago. Nicci had never seen Lani as anything other than a stone figure.

  Now both women were reanimated and attacking each other on the open floor in the ruling tower. Nicci recognized Lani’s broad shoulders, the squarish yet pretty face, and the long locks of hair that had been marble before, but were now the color of smoked honey. The revived sorceress threw herself upon Thora, who looked just as furious. The dissolution of the stone spell that had thawed General Utros’s army must have also released these two from their fates.

  Hearing the clash of the physical battle, Nicci rushed into the ruling chamber with Nathan and Elsa close behind, calling for the two sorceresses to stop fighting. The wizards Damon and Quentin came in, accompanied by other powerful wizards, who had answered the call for the war council.

  The floor of the ruling chamber was made of blue marble, a lake of polished stone in front of the raised platform that had held thrones for the sovrena and the wizard commander. In a long gown of green silk, Thora grappled with Lani. The women, whose skin remained pale and grayish, battled with spells and physical blows, as well. Thora and Lani used fists and claws, but their tough skin deflected the damage.

  As Nicci strode forward, commanding the women to stop, Lila dashed past her and leaped into the fray. Together, Nicci and the morazeth physically separated the two sorceresses. Lani and Thora both seemed confused, furious, and unsure of what had happened, but knowing their hatred for each other.

  Nicci’s implacable glare made Thora hesitate, while the young morazeth held Lani back. With a sneer, Lani turned from Thora and softened in surrender as she recognized the familiar faces of Elsa, Damon, Quentin. “I know you are on my side. Where is the wizard commander?” She looked more intently. “And where’s Renn? Has something happened to my dear Renn?”

  “We all have a great many questions,” Nathan said in an erudite voice, “and not enough answers.”

  “Not enough time either,” Nicci said. “The petrification spell has dissipated, not just here but also with the hundreds of thousands of warriors outside the wall. The army of General Utros has awakened.”

  The words were like a blow to the two women, and they fell awkwardly silent.

  Nathan stepped in, looking at Quentin and Damon. “We’ve called the duma so we can decide how best to fight.”

  Lani stared daggers at her rival. “I cannot serve on the duma if Thora is also a member. The sovrena has corrupted and destroyed Ildakar.”

  Nicci broke in, “Thora is no longer sovrena, nor is she a member of the council. She betrayed Ildakar and will continue to pay the price.”

  “Ildakar is my city!” Thora said. “Maxim is the one who destroyed it by inciting rebellion before he fled the city. I wouldn’t be surprised if he unraveled the stone spell himself, just so Ildakar could suffer.” She spun on Nicci. “And you, too—you are to blame for the uprising and all the destruction it caused.”

  “Now, the revolt was a long time coming,” Nathan explained. “You planted the seeds, and your oppression nurtured all that violence. Don’t complain about the bitter harvest.”

  “Enough about the revolt and the unruly slaves,” said a man with long, grayish-yellow hair braided down the left side of his face. “Our city is under siege. After fifteen centuries, Emperor Kurgan’s army is now pounding at our walls again. If we bicker about petty things, we may as well throw open the gates to the enemy.”

  Nicci looked over at the stranger, deciding that she liked the man’s hard-line attitude. Elsa leaned close and whispered to her, “That is Oron, a powerful wizard. He leads the skinners’ guild. He has been suggested as a duma member, but the sovrena never allowed any replacement, fearing that new members might overthrow her.”

  Bannon added, “I think Lord Oron is Brock’s father. I saw him once when Amos, Jed, and Brock took me around the city.”

  “I hope he’s more worthy than his son,” Nicci muttered. Brock and his two companions had been a bad influence on Bannon, taking advantage of him and setting him up to be captured for the combat pits.

  Though she knew that Ildakar was not her responsibility, Nicci stepped to the middle of the blue marble tiles. Someone had to set this meeting on track. “We must convene the duma and get to work.” She gestured for the gifted members, even Lani, to take their places at the curved side tables.

  Also in the crowded audience, the military commanders and other high-level spectators found places, along with angry slaves and workers. High Captain Stuart and two city guards took Sovrena Thora into custody and pulled her aside. She remained defiant, though she was still convicted and a prisoner. As the people muttered and listened, Nicci, Nathan, and Elsa told everyone about the movement of the enormous enemy army.

  Concerned merchants and gifted nobles argued, expressing their dissatisfaction. They seemed far more concerned about the unrest in the city. “What about the rebels and the damage they caused?” demanded a member of the silk spinners’ guild. “Are we supposed to just forget about that? Some of those unruly bastards have murdered nobles, chopping off their heads!”

  Members of the lower classes also spoke up. Rendell, still soot-stained from fighting the fire at the silk warehouse, raised his voice over the chatter. “How can we overlook all the damage the nobles have caused? For generations they’ve harmed us. What about our blood that’s been spilled?”

  “D
oes cutting off a few heads make up for all that?” Nathan asked. “I sincerely doubt it.”

  “Only fools would keep arguing while an enemy army pounds on their walls,” Nicci said, impatient. “Concentrate on the real problem. Everyone in the city needs to know how to fight General Utros. That is the most important thing.”

  Quentin cleared his throat and spoke up. He was a dark-skinned wizard with smoky-gray hair. Deep lines on his face emphasized his habitual frown. “Long ago, Ildakar had more powerful wizards than we do today. Fleshmancer Andre created the three giant Ixax warriors, which were never unleashed. Wizard Commander Maxim developed and cast the stone spell that petrified the entire siege army. It took all of our population, at the cost of a great many lives, to work the blood magic that protected us all behind the shroud of eternity.”

  Damon stood beside his friend, adding his voice to Quentin’s. Damon was a thin-faced, olive-skinned man with drooping mustaches that dangled on either side of his mouth. “If we couldn’t defeat General Utros before, what chance do we have now?”

  As grumbling ricocheted around the chamber, Nicci raised her voice. “Ildakar’s situation has changed dramatically, but that doesn’t mean the city is weaker.” She swept her intense blue gaze across the audience. “I am here now, as is Nathan Rahl. We bring new ideas, new magic, and new ways of fighting.”

  “And I am back, too,” Lani said.

  “But the enemy army is different, as well,” Bannon interjected. “Those aren’t normal soldiers. Remember when Ulrich woke up, he was still partly stone and very hard to kill. Now there are many thousands more just like him out beyond the wall.” He held his sword, turning the discolored blade from side to side. “I don’t think our weapons will be enough against them.”

  “We’ll fight with our magic, and for that we need to rebuild the duma,” said Oron. “We’ve lost too many of our wizards already.”

  “And Thora,” said Elsa in a stern tone. “She’s been banished from the duma and will not be allowed to serve.”