Siege of Stone

by Terry Goodkind

  Now Renn scooped soup into his mouth, ravenous. “I’m used to feasts in Ildakar. Roast yaxen, fine desserts, candied fruits.” He slurped another mouthful and wiped his lips with soft, warm bread. “This would be considered food for the lower classes, even for slaves. I never knew it could be so delicious!”

  “We eat what the valley provides,” Gloria said. “We’ve had to be self-sufficient for a long time. Cliffwall has little contact with the outside world.”

  Franklin added, “Here in the canyon we have orchards, crops, flocks of sheep. Notice the minced lamb in your soup?”

  “Delicious,” Renn repeated. He seemed satisfied now, and his arrogance was gone. With a sigh, he looked around the table. “I’d like to stay here for a while—on behalf of Ildakar, of course.”

  “Why exactly does Ildakar need all this magical knowledge?” Verna asked. “In ancient times, wizards hid the books here so Sulachan couldn’t destroy them. We don’t want to create another ruthless tyrant.”

  “Oh, the wizards of Ildakar would never become tyrants! They would never misuse…” He paused. “Well, Sovrena Thora did send me here because she wanted to control the power. And Wizard Commander Maxim has already unleashed some dramatic spells to protect our city.” He scratched his cheek. “By the Keeper’s beard, I’m actually not certain why they’d want all this knowledge.” He lowered his voice. “I’m not convinced they should have it.”

  He chewed on a roll, silent for a moment, then continued, “Maybe they didn’t care. It is possible they never believed I would find Cliffwall at all. I had only sketchy directions, very few supplies. Captain Trevor and his men had never led a long expedition, nor were they trained in wilderness survival. They were just city guards.… We had a difficult time and lost three of our men on the way. It was only through luck that we even found Cliffwall, and just in time.”

  His expression darkened, and he seemed preoccupied. “Sovrena Thora sent me into that mess. I wonder if she was trying to get rid of me. Thora never forgave me after Lani challenged her rule.” He scratched his neck, patted his potbelly. “I was younger then. Some might even have called me handsome, but after Thora turned Lani to stone, I just didn’t…”

  Renn shook his head. “I am still a loyal citizen of Ildakar, but the city is not the sovrena. After all those centuries under the shroud of eternity, Thora herself might have become stunted, like a tree trying to grow inside a glass bottle.” He reached across the table to grab the large serving bowl and ladled more lentil soup for himself. “Yes, I’ve decided to stay here and learn more. Maybe the Cliffwall archives should remain exactly where they are.”

  Verna nodded, somewhat relieved. Beside her, always attentive, Amber listened to everything but held her questions back. The prelate said, “Cliffwall has a lot of information, and so do you, Wizard Renn. We want to hear all about Ildakar, and any news you can tell us of Nicci and Nathan.”

  CHAPTER 10

  Trapped inside the walls of the city, Mrra was restless. The sand panther prowled among the buildings, the streets, wanting to hunt, wanting to run. She controlled herself, even though she longed to kill something.

  Through her spell bond with the animal, Nicci had felt just as caged while she worked with the rebels in the catacombs beneath the city. Now, with the ancient army of General Utros besieging Ildakar, the trapped feeling increased.

  The people were reinforcing their defenses to stand against a long siege, and Nicci wondered how long Utros and his troops could last. What did he want? It had been three full days since the army awakened, and the ancient soldiers were still rebuilding their camp, preparing to press against the impregnable city.

  Night had fallen, and the monotonous pounding on the stone walls continued. Years ago, when the Imperial Order had begun its northern march to conquer the New World, Emperor Jagang required that drums be beaten relentlessly, all day and all night, whenever he intended to visit a city. It made the population tremble in anticipation, even if Jagang took months to arrive. This hammering sounded similar, and since Utros had many thousands of soldiers, he could maintain the barrage for a very long time.

  At night, Nicci remained in her spacious guest quarters in the grand villa. With both Maxim and Thora gone, Nicci kept her rooms, as did Nathan and Bannon.

  Restless, Mrra wanted to prowl through the dark streets to hunt rats, to jump from rooftop to rooftop for the joy of stretching her muscles. Nicci refused to leash the panther or lock her inside a cage. Mrra understood that she couldn’t attack people the way the spiny wolves had done, but Nicci never forgot that the sand panther was a wild animal. If the big cat felt cornered or provoked, she would lash out. She needed to roam free through the grassy hills, needed to hunt in the forests. But how could Nicci let her out there with the enormous army lying in wait?

  She sat in on the edge of the broad bed, the silken curtains wafting in the breeze. In addition to the distant pounding, she could hear the quiet sounds of the city, the nobles in their mansions, the cacophony of taverns and street vendors, the silk yaxen whorehouses, people playing music as Ildakar tried to maintain its normal life, even with the ancient army pressing on the gates.

  Mrra paced inside the bedchamber, brushing her tawny fur against Nicci’s knees. Nicci reached down to scratch behind the sand panther’s ears. Purring contentedly, Mrra circled the room and stood on the open balcony, where she pricked her ears to listen to the sounds outside. She sniffed, twitched her whiskers, then returned for more scratching. Nicci could feel her longing to be free, no matter how many enemy soldiers were out there.

  “You wouldn’t be safe,” Nicci said. What were General Utros and his army doing? What were they planning? Why hadn’t he sent a representative to discuss terms?

  Mrra growled as if to insist that life wasn’t safe in Ildakar either. Nicci felt the animal’s sharp claws and tightly wound reflexes, and knew full well that she could take care of herself. Though their spell bond was sharpest in dreams, Nicci could communicate with Mrra clearly. They understood each other.

  Then Nicci straightened with the realization that having the big cat outside and running free could be useful to Ildakar. Mrra could be her secret eyes where she couldn’t see. What would serve as a better spy than a predator who could glide through the night unseen?

  Nicci leaned forward and put her hands on either side of the large feline head. The golden eyes looked up, meeting hers. “The enemy army is out there. We can see their camp, but that’s not enough for me to make plans. Will you show me what you see? If I let you loose, will you be careful? Will you watch out for yourself?”

  The sand panther’s tail thrashed. Nicci made up her mind.

  “Stay to the hills, take shelter in the trees, but you can also prowl. I want you to see them, so I can see through your eyes.” Nicci gave a thin smile. “Be my spy against General Utros.”

  Lashing her tail, Mrra padded to the door of the chamber and out into the halls of the villa. Nicci felt her pulse racing and knew the panther was excited. “Let’s go. I’ll find one of the smaller gates to let you out, away from where the soldiers are hammering the wall.” Her brow furrowed. “You might actually be safer out there than we are in here.”

  Even though the ancient soldiers concentrated their attack near the towering main gate, Ildakar had smaller access points near the cliff drop-off to the river, traveler’s entrances and secret gates for merchants farther down the wall. Nicci and Mrra wound their way through the streets, listening to night birds and prowling house cats that stalked along the gutters. Mrra padded ahead as they worked their way to the northern end of the wall, where it curved around and abruptly met the edge of the sheer bluff.

  Nicci found a low door cleverly hidden, covered with stone, exactly where she had been told to expect it. She released her gift and worked the magic to undo the latch. No scout from Utros’s army could ever find these concealed entries. When the spell lock released, she swung the person-sized gate inward. A flood of moist air swept in,
wafting up from the Killraven River below and the grassy hills stretching around the plain.

  Mrra’s tan body tensed with anticipation. Nicci placed a hand on the panther’s broad shoulders, also feeling the cat’s exhilaration. “I wish I could go with you, but my place is here in Ildakar—for now.” She bent down and wrapped her arms around the big panther’s body. Mrra rumbled with a purr, then licked Nicci’s cheek with a raspy tongue.

  “Go,” Nicci said. “I’ll be with you. I’m your sister panther.”

  Mrra bounded through the gate and loped out into the hills, vanishing into the night shadows. Nicci felt an ache in her heart, hoping it wouldn’t be the last time she saw the sand panther. She knew how dangerous it would be out there, but Mrra was dangerous, too.

  Nicci stared across the valley at the countless campfires of the siege army, blazing bonfires that would have required an entire hillside of trees just to supply the wood. The fires looked like red, winking eyes of hungry spirits, a pack of heart hounds unleashed from the underworld.

  Each campfire represented enough enemy warriors to overwhelm a village. If all of these ancient fighters were turned loose to pillage the Old World, they might well conquer the entire continent. Nicci had to contain them here, somehow. She stared for a long moment at the fires, hearing the distant noises of the immeasurably large enemy force.

  Mrra roamed free out there now, but as Nicci stood at the gate, she was the one who felt trapped.

  * * *

  Long after midnight, back in her own quarters, Nicci tried to catch a few hours of sleep, knowing she needed the energy. She didn’t want to dream, didn’t want to think, but as she drifted off, her consciousness flew free and she found herself inside her sand panther’s mind.

  Mrra was overjoyed to run wild. She had felt so crushed inside the city, and now she bounded along for the sheer joy of it, feeling her forepaws on the crisp grasses, her hind legs pushing her forward. The big cat was meant to be loose in the wilderness, even though she’d been raised by handlers in Ildakar, bred and trained to be a vicious fighter, to kill enemies in the combat arena. Mrra’s skin had been branded with countless runes to protect against a magical attack.

  What free panther needed to fear magic?

  Mrra and the two sister panthers in her first troka had broken loose from the chief handler’s cages. They had escaped Ildakar and fled across the countryside, roaming aimlessly until they encountered Nicci and her companions near Cliffwall. The three big cats had fought the humans, as they had been trained to do, but Nicci and the others killed her two sister panthers and nearly killed Mrra. The sharing of blood during Nicci’s healing had forged the spell bond, making her a new sister panther. Now, Mrra would have it no other way.

  Unleashed, she ran into the hills, stalked among the trees, stirred up night birds, smelled animals in the underbrush. She also sensed other arena beasts that had escaped during the revolt in Ildakar, but Mrra didn’t attack them. She didn’t even hunt for fresh meat, not yet. She was hungry, but more hungry for her freedom.

  In spite of her joy, Mrra also understood what Nicci needed. Her sister panther had asked her to prowl around the outskirts of the camp, to observe the huge army so that her sister could see through sharp feline eyes.

  In the villa, as Nicci tossed and turned on silken sheets, her blue eyes closed but flickering back and forth, she looked in all directions in her dreams. Mrra and Nicci both saw the magnitude of the threat that Ildakar faced.

  CHAPTER 11

  In his command headquarters late at night, General Utros lay awake with two naked women pressed against him. Ava and Ruva were motionless, but he knew they weren’t asleep. He could feel their skin against his, smooth but cold, harder than the soft feminine curves he was used to touching. His own skin was just as tough, the nerve endings muffled like a voice shouting from a great distance.

  Ruva stirred and, through the intangible connection with her twin sister, Ava also shifted. Lying still, with the sorceresses on either side of him, Utros stared up at the crosshatched roof and thought of the one woman he truly wanted, the passions that still stirred in his stony heart. He didn’t love these faithful twins, but they gave him what he needed.

  Majel had given him so much more.

  In his mind, she was far away in the capital city of Orogang with Emperor Kurgan, the man to whom Utros had sworn his loyalty. And though he still felt bound by that oath, Utros was torn by his passions and his dogged insistence on serving both, even if it ripped him apart and destroyed everything.

  If the two yaxen herders could be believed, Majel was now separated from him by much more than distance. He had seen the lovely empress only a few months ago, according to his memories. Was it possible that he and his army had been petrified for centuries? That the beautiful and passionate woman was long dead? He couldn’t bear such news, if it was true. He had to know, but here on this broad plain, far from Orogang and the rest of Iron Fang’s empire, how could he learn the truth?

  If Majel was dead and Emperor Kurgan was no more than the dust of history’s bones, what was he fighting for?

  Utros locked away those worries in a separate section of his mind, like damming a stream. The trapped thoughts and concerns would flood him unless he found real answers.

  Outside the headquarters, he heard the camp stirring. The wooden structure had been raised quickly, using rough-hewn logs and branches. His soldiers had done their tasks well, given their minimal resources. They always served him without question, and Utros never disappointed them either. He was their commander.

  On his years-long military march, he’d become accustomed to traveling with a fine tent, a place with furs and hangings, council tables spread with maps and battle plans. He wanted to keep Ava and Ruva content, and now he held the two women in his bed, one beefy arm around each as if to crush them against his body and squeeze their energy into him. They lay together beneath a freshly cured yaxen pelt. It wasn’t the same as fine woven blankets or slick sheets from the palace in Orogang, but it was a first step.

  The thin mattress was stuffed with dried grasses. Under other circumstances it would have felt prickly and uncomfortable, but his hardened skin didn’t notice such minor things. The smoke from the braziers curled upward, escaping through the gaps in the crisscrossed roof. The dull red glow of burning charcoal and incense bathed the structure in comforting light. The smoke was thick, but Utros could barely smell it. The two sorceresses had added special herbs to the braziers, which sometimes gave him visions and revelations. Now, his dusty lungs seemed dulled to the effects.

  But he didn’t need visions. Utros had his mind, and he could make plans.

  Scouting parties had returned to the great camp with supplies, having ransacked the homes of a few settlers in the hills, woodcutters, a lone prospector, two men with mules bringing a load of goods to Stravera, all of whom had confirmed the information provided by the yaxen herders Boyle and Irma.

  Before long, a raiding party would find the large town itself and bring back more vital tools and materials.

  His invincible army would make the world tremble. Utros had swept across the land and seized an entire continent in the name of Iron Fang because he had sworn to do so, and the general always kept his promises.

  Now he felt like a beggar. His vast army, though still powerful, was little more than a collection of refugees. The soldiers had no tents and nothing to eat, even if they no longer had an appetite. The glorious city of Ildakar stood before them, huge and impregnable, mocking the army with its wealth and its way of life.

  Utros had to know the truth of what had happened to his army. He needed to know what he was required to do next, and he had to understand the answers before his countless soldiers began to realize that their commander might be facing doubts.

  “I know you’re awake,” he said aloud. “Both of you.”

  Ava pulled away from him, propping herself up on an elbow. Ruva held herself against his broad chest, as if trying to reassure
him with the pliability of her breasts, nipples that were hard from the lingering effects of the stone spell, not from arousal. She, too, pulled away.

  Lying on his back, he continued to speak. “We have to find out what has happened to Ildakar, what’s happened to the empire. Whom do we serve now?”

  “We serve Iron Fang,” said Ruva, “as always.”

  “But what if Iron Fang is nothing more than a skeleton in a crypt, or a memory in a history book?”

  The women remained quiet for a moment before Ava said, “Then you serve yourself, as we have always served you.”

  “I don’t serve myself,” Utros snapped. “I am not a petty tyrant. I don’t do this for my own aggrandizement.”

  “You may not, beloved Utros,” said Ruva, “but we serve you. We only supported Kurgan because he is the leader you chose to serve. All your soldiers fight for you, not for Iron Fang. You earned their loyalty. You led them to glory. Iron Fang is merely a tick on the ear of a dog, drinking blood and growing bloated.”

  Utros sat up, tossing the heavy yaxen hide aside. “Kurgan is my emperor. If you spoke such words in Orogang, your tongues would be ripped out and burned on skewers before you.”

  “We are not in Orogang,” said Ava. “You know that this empire was built because of you, not Kurgan.”

  Ruva said, “The emperor doesn’t deserve you, beloved Utros, but my sister and I respect you, so we serve your wishes.”

  “Cast some spell or show me visions so I can understand my place in the world. I’ll fight ruthlessly to defend what I must, but not if I don’t know!”

  “You already know.” Ava slid out of the bed and walked over to the brazier, tossing more dried leaves into the coals so that the smoke thickened. She waved her hands, making the fumes drift toward Utros and her sister. The general caught the sweet tang of the herbs. “The yaxen herders already told you the answers. Don’t you believe them?”