Siege of Stone

by Terry Goodkind

  The thirty-foot-tall gates of Ildakar weighed innumerable tons. They were primarily an architectural flourish, kept open only during times of complete peace and security. “We could have left through the merchants’ door,” Nicci said, glancing at the much smaller entrance at the bottom of the great gates.

  “But far less impressive,” Nathan said, “and this is a time when we need to impress them. We are not skulking about like mice, ready to scurry back into a hole. This is Ildakar, and I want to show General Utros that we are worthy of its reputation. We’re not afraid.”

  When the doors swung wide with ponderous majesty, Nicci gazed across the expansive plain. Countless enemy soldiers waited for them at a safe distance from the wall, having retreated to give the emissaries freedom to leave the city without fear of a surprise ambush.

  Nathan stroked his cleanly shaven chin. “I’ve studied General Utros a great deal, and he is an honorable, respected man. He’ll abide by the terms he offered.” His lips quirked in a smile. “I’m anxious to meet a man who stepped right out of the history scrolls. I have many questions about the Midwar, about Iron Fang, about his unique battle tactics that brought him victory after victory.” Before stepping forward, he looked through the gate at the giant army waiting for them. “But I suppose that discussion will have to wait until such time as his troops aren’t trying to tear down the city and destroy us all.”

  “We’ll inform the general how the world has changed since he and all his people were turned to stone.” Nicci lifted her chin. “Once he knows the full story, and his changed situation, if he’s such a great commander he may embrace the new D’Haran Empire. If he devotes his military genius to the service of Lord Rahl, then Utros will have a true purpose to serve, and we will have an incomparable ally.”

  Nathan chuckled. “Or they could be too angry to listen to reason, knowing they’ve been stone for centuries and have lost everything from their past.”

  “That’s also a possibility,” Nicci said.

  Nathan’s expression darkened. “I have no doubt Utros will be greatly disturbed to learn what happened to the Empress Majel. She was his lover and … it didn’t end well for her.”

  Bannon hurried up behind them, anxious, his long ginger hair bound with a strip of leather. He wore a loose brown Ildakaran shirt, dark trousers, fresh boots. “I’m coming with you, too. I’ll protect you if the general’s soldiers try any treachery.”

  At another time, Nicci would have scoffed at the young man’s offer, but Bannon had proven his bravery before, although his exuberance and naïveté could sometimes be problematic. Still, his presence would not gain them any additional safety.

  As gently as he could, Nathan replied, “The two of us will be sufficient, my boy. We’re counting on you to protect the city of Ildakar if we should fail.”

  Though Bannon obviously didn’t believe him, he stepped back with a solemn nod. The duma members and curious citizens of Ildakar gathered around watching, hopeful, but letting Nicci and Nathan take the risks.

  When the doors had opened to their full extent, she and Nathan set off beyond the city walls and headed toward the battlefield. Nicci looked ahead at the swarms of soldiers separated into ordered regiments. Tens of thousands of soldiers lined themselves up like an honor guard, creating a clear path to the general’s command headquarters.

  The two of them walked side by side at a confident pace. Lining the path, the ancient warriors stood shoulder-to-shoulder. Some held new makeshift banners that fluttered in the breezes, displaying Kurgan’s flame symbol. The enemy soldiers stared straight ahead with implacable expressions, as if they had become statues again. Nicci assessed their helmets, their leather vests covered with metal plates, round bosses, flared shoulder plates. Each face had a dusty gray complexion, indicating that not all of the stone spell had faded away. She knew these men would be tough to kill.

  When the first one, Ulrich, had accidentally awakened, she wished the duma had spent more time studying his hardened skin to discover weaknesses, but the nobles had been eager to throw him into the combat arena. It was just another one of the duma’s demonstrably bad decisions.

  Nathan muttered, “These look like very worthy fighters.”

  “Our only concern is General Utros. If we can change his mind, then we won’t need to worry about the rest of his army.”

  The two reluctant emissaries walked along the clear path, not hurrying. Nicci found the eerie silence of the gigantic army noteworthy. The army camps of the Imperial Order had been a ruckus of constant activity—chopping wood and grinding steel, clanging practice swords, the screams of captives, the coarse laughter of gambling men, shouted orders from lieutenants and captains. The army of Utros seemed ominously subdued.

  They approached a wooden building constructed of rough-hewn logs decorated with paints, makeshift fabric banners, scavenged materials, since the army’s possessions and equipment had deteriorated over the centuries.

  Four guards stood outside the door of the headquarters, and a tall, weathered man whom Nicci recognized as First Commander Enoch emerged from the structure. “The general is ready to see you,” Enoch said.

  Nicci replied, “We’re eager to resolve this matter, so he can take his army and be on his way.”

  The battle-scarred veteran looked from Nathan to Nicci. “You are the leaders of Ildakar? The wizard commander and the sovrena?”

  Nathan chuckled. “No, not at all. The city’s leadership has changed since your last encounter.”

  “We are visitors to Ildakar, but your siege has trapped us here,” Nicci said in a crisp voice. “We’ve come to speak for the city, as neutral representatives.” She looked past Enoch into the headquarters. “Are we supposed to discuss terms with you, or with General Utros himself?”

  Enoch gestured them inside. With the wind blowing their hair around them, Nicci and Nathan entered the crude but sturdy structure, which was lit by open windows. Pungent smoke wafted from braziers on either side of the main room.

  General Utros sat stiff-backed in a sturdy wooden chair at a table. He was a substantial man with broad shoulders and a powerful chest. He had a neatly trimmed gray-brown beard, except for a waxy patch on his left cheek, where a smooth scar showed the remnants of a serious burn.

  On a rough bench beside him sat two striking women in gossamer gowns that clung to their curves. They were obviously twins, their heads entirely shaved, their skin painted. Nicci could sense the gift emanating from them and realized the twins were sorceresses.

  She and Nathan stopped before the table and pointedly waited for the general to speak first. Utros remained in his chair, but gave them his full attention. “I command the army that will conquer Ildakar. Your fate depends on how reasonable the city can be.”

  Nicci ignored the twin women and spoke only to the general. “We’ve heard that you are a wise man, General Utros. Let us see you prove your wisdom. Do you even know what’s happened to you and your army? How much time has passed? What was the fate of Emperor Kurgan and Empress Majel?”

  The general seemed angry, leaning forward slightly. “I have heard wildly impossible stories.”

  Nathan intervened, speaking in a conciliatory voice. “Now, we haven’t even finished introductions yet! This is the sorceress Nicci, and I am the wizard Nathan Rahl. I was once a powerful prophet, too, but prophecy is entirely gone now.” He sighed and brushed down the front of his white robes. “I’m not sure you knew that. So much has changed in the world.…” He gestured, acknowledging the two sorceresses. “As you will come to see, the underpinnings of magic are fundamentally altered. Before we begin, let me tell you about the state of the world. There’s much you need to know before you can make a wise decision on what to do with your army.”

  Utros frowned with a mixture of skepticism and anger.

  Nathan placed his hands together and spoke as if he were lecturing to gathered students. “Over the centuries I’ve fancied myself something of a historian, so I can fill in the gaps
for you. And yes, I know much about you, General Utros. Your exploits are legendary. As you’ve probably guessed, your entire army was petrified by a spell from Ildakar. Your ranks stood as stone figures exposed to the elements for fifteen hundred years.” He paused to let the number sink in. “I’m afraid everything you knew is gone, General. Kurgan’s empire is dust.”

  The two smooth-skinned sorceresses muttered to each other. Utros grew stern and troubled, leaning forward in his sturdy chair. “So we have heard, but the idea is preposterous. We’ve seen no proof.”

  “What more proof do you need?” Nicci interrupted in a firm voice. “Where are your tents? Your camp? Your supplies? Everything disintegrated with the passage of time. Centuries have gone by, and history has left you behind. All that you knew has changed.” She hardened her expression. “Surely you realize your bodies have a lingering infusion of stone, because the spell hasn’t entirely worn off. Accept what you know is true.”

  As Utros growled, Nathan intervened again, folding his hands together with a small, polite bow. “If I may, Sorceress? Your own conquests are legendary, General. Speaking as a scholar, I’m impressed to talk with such an imposing personage. You are seen as a seminal figure in military history, until you and your army disappeared. Now we know what happened to you. Nevertheless, your battlefield tactics and your conquests have been studied for more than a thousand years.”

  Utros remained determined. “I’m not interested in your flattery, Wizard. I conquered those lands for my emperor. I serve Iron Fang, and he ordered me to seize Ildakar. I intend to do so. I would never betray him.”

  Nicci scoffed. “Oh? Now that’s an interesting comment, considering you took his wife as your lover. Wasn’t that a betrayal?”

  Utros shot to his feet, looming before them in his half-stone body. “That was different! Majel loved me.” His eyes flicked back and forth, a gray gaze that struck Nicci, then went back to Nathan. “How can you even know this? It is impossible.”

  Nathan explained, “We know because history knows, dear general, just as history knows everything. All was revealed as Kurgan’s empire crumbled. You and Empress Majel weren’t as discreet as you thought with your affair, and this is a terrible story that was told to students for centuries. After conquering much of the Old World, your army marched away from Orogang, ordered by Iron Fang to capture Ildakar. But then you and your armies vanished, as did Ildakar itself. The complete disappearance of such a vast army was a mystery that historians have debated for centuries.”

  Utros knotted his hands as he gripped the edge of the rough-hewn table. On one corner rested his imposing helmet, adorned with curved bull horns. “But what about my emperor? And … Majel? What do you think you know? What happened to her? And to the empire?”

  Nathan sniffed. “Alas, I’m afraid that without your military to hold it together, Kurgan’s empire crumbled. It didn’t last a decade after you were gone. The man you served, and betrayed, is long dead.”

  Nicci spoke into the silence. “There is a new emperor now, a worthy master for you to serve. His name is Richard Rahl, and we are working to consolidate these lands under the rules of fairness and freedom. That’s why Nathan and I came to Ildakar, only to find ourselves caught in this unnecessary conflict. Lord Rahl is a new, worthy master for a great and honorable military leader like yourself. We hope you and your army will agree to serve him.”

  “I serve Emperor Kurgan,” Utros insisted.

  “And we serve you, General Utros,” said the two sorceresses in strange harmony, shifting on their bench.

  He glanced at them. “These are Ava and Ruva, my advisors and powerful sorceresses. We don’t fear any magic Ildakar brings against us.”

  “What you seem to fear is the truth,” Nicci said. “Emperor Kurgan is gone, nearly forgotten. Join the D’Haran Empire as one of Lord Rahl’s greatest generals. You no longer need to conquer Ildakar.”

  “I need to conquer Ildakar, because I swore to do so,” Utros said stubbornly. “Kurgan is my emperor, not this upstart Lord Rahl, who is nothing more than a name to me.”

  “I assure you, Lord Rahl is much more than a name,” Nicci said with a hint of threat in her tone. “And he is alive and powerful, unlike Iron Fang and your murdered lover.”

  Incensed, Utros said, “Murdered? How did she … they die? What happened to them?”

  “It didn’t end well, I’m afraid.” Nathan continued telling his story. “Iron Fang’s own people rose up and overthrew him. The mobs killed him because of what he did to…” He hesitated. “It’s rather unpleasant, General. Are you sure you want to hear the full details?”

  “What did Kurgan do?” Utros demanded. Then the lines on his face softened. “What of Majel?”

  “The emperor executed her,” Nicci said, using the words like a barbed lash. “When Kurgan discovered Majel’s love for you, he skinned her alive in public. Then while she slowly died, dripping blood in the city square of Orogang, he placed flesh beetles on her body, and they burrowed inside her. I understand she screamed for days.”

  “No!” Utros cried. “Emperor Kurgan wouldn’t…” His words trailed off as he realized that the story sounded all too probable.

  “That is the man to whom you swear your loyalty,” Nicci reminded him.

  “The story is true, I’m afraid,” Nathan said. “If you knew Emperor Kurgan as you say you do, then you’ll believe me. Was he not violent and mercurial? What do you think he would have done once he found out about Majel’s betrayal? With his bravest general?”

  “It wasn’t a betrayal!” Utros cried in a hoarse voice. “She still loved him, but she also loved me. I gave her what her husband could not, and I also gave the emperor what he could not achieve on his own. I loved her, but remained loyal to him.”

  “History has already been written, General,” Nathan said. “Both Majel and Kurgan are spirits now, and the veil has been permanently sealed. No spirits can ever return from the underworld.” He explained Richard’s star shift and how he had ended prophecy and healed the breach forever.

  Utros bunched his fists into boulders, but he somehow contained his rage. “I don’t believe you.”

  “You know in your heart that we’re not lying to you,” Nathan said. “How else do you explain what you see and feel?”

  The sorceresses rose from their bench. One of the women said, “Perhaps we’ll hold these two, beloved Utros, and peel the truth from them, just to be sure.”

  “You could try.” Nicci returned their glare. “But I wouldn’t recommend it.”

  Nathan said, “You promised us safe passage, General. Are the legends not true about your honor?”

  “Go from here!” Utros shouted. “Return to your city walls, while I consider how best to tear them down. I will conquer Ildakar, as I swore to do. It doesn’t matter if Emperor Kurgan is gone. I have my mission, and I must succeed. That’s all I need to know.” He pounded a fist on his table hard enough that the fresh wood splintered. His horned helmet slid to the ground. “Go!”

  Nicci and Nathan withdrew as First Commander Enoch pushed them out into the open air again. The sudden gust of wind caught Nicci’s long blond hair. Thousands of soldiers framed the way for them to return to the gates of Ildakar.

  CHAPTER 14

  Grieve observed from the high wall of the Bastion, pleased by the progress.

  Captain Kor’s raiding vessels took only four days to reprovision for the raid against Renda Bay, and soon they were ready to launch from the main island, joined by three more serpent ships. Kor’s previous expedition to Ildakar was secretly to identify the vulnerabilities of the great city for possible invasion.

  This time, Kor had a more standard Norukai mission, and King Grieve had different expectations. The raiders would sweep into the defiant fishing village, capture as many slaves as they could, and fill their ships with walking meat to be sold at various markets. Captains Kor, Lars, and Yorik would kill any captives that wouldn’t fit on the boats, and then the rest of Rend
a Bay would burn. It would be a profound lesson to the rest of the world.

  For the raid, Kor took several hundred seasoned Norukai warriors, scarred muscular men and brutish dangerous women, but they needed the rest of the room on the ships for the captives they would take.

  After the misty storm passed, Grieve drew a deep breath on the high open battlements, studying the fanged mouth of the harbor. The six serpent ships were a swirl of activity as the raiders piled aboard. The broad-beamed ships with long oars and distinctive midnight-blue sails would strike fear along the coast. Each ship’s prow bore a ferocious carving of the serpent god, guiding the raiders to victory.

  Watching the expedition prepare to depart, Grieve longed to go on a raid again himself. He remembered the ecstatic younger days when King Stern had sent him out to toughen him, to temper him with blood, or let him die on the battlefield if he wasn’t good enough. That was the fate of failures.

  Salty wind whipped around the Bastion’s rooftop, but the sky was a bright blue, the waters relatively calm. Though Chalk liked to remain inside by the fire, today’s sunlight was bright enough that the pale-skinned shaman joined him, hopping about and burning energy to keep himself warm.

  “Renda Bay, Renda Bay!” he said. “Don’t think about Renda Bay.”

  “Why shouldn’t I? Kor will destroy the town, then we never need worry about them again.”

  Grieve reached into his yawning mouth, scratched out a morsel of the yaxen meat he’d eaten for his midday meal. Grieve liked the taste much more than tiresome fish or gristly goat. Yet another reason that he needed to conquer Ildakar.

  “Renda Bay, Renda Bay!” Chalk rubbed his hands together as he looked over the battlement, gaping down at the six serpent ships tied up to the docks far below. The shaman was so awkward and reckless that he nearly fell over the edge, but he kept himself in place with a scrawny arm. “The war is with Ildakar, my Grieve, King Grieve! They’ll all grieve! Ildakar, not Renda Bay.”