Siege of Stone

by Terry Goodkind

  Adessa grimaced in disgust as she found herself covered with serpent blood as well as insect bites, mud, and sweat. Standing over the dead hulk of the snake, she used her dagger to skin off the scaly hide. Snake meat, even raw, was nourishment.

  As she chewed on the moist reptilian flesh, Adessa withdrew into her makeshift shelter again, resting, pondering. She still felt the blood magic from the unborn infant within her, enhancing her senses and powers, and she knew that boost would last until she tracked down and killed Maxim.

  But she had to sustain herself. She made sure she drank enough water, ate enough food, to keep her body strong. Over the years, she had given the same admonishment to all trainees in the combat arena. Adessa had never thought of the fighters as slaves, but as her pets, and pets needed to be disciplined.

  Now, in the dark buzzing swamp, she recalled the champions she had made and the lovers she had rewarded over the years. When she was finished with them, those men were completely loyal to her, wrapped around her finger even when she sent them into the combat arena to die. Many had been kidnapped from outside villages, taken when they were young and broken, sold by Norukai raiders, or born of other slaves inside the city.

  Ian, her last champion, her last lover, had been a devoted young man who never disappointed her, always defended her, until the end, when that outsider Bannon had made him remember his past. Though Bannon seemed a weak and naive young man, he created hair-fine cracks in Ian’s armor of duty and eventually turned her champion against her.

  Adessa still didn’t understand what she had done wrong. She had taken Ian into her bed and had shown him true passion, primal lovemaking like the rutting of wild animals. His pleasure had been so great he nearly fell unconscious after satisfying himself. Adessa had even let herself grow fond of him, sometimes holding his sweaty body against hers after he was sated and after she, too, had let herself release that inner thunder of pleasure. She’d let him plant his child in her, and Adessa had felt it growing, the energy of the unborn part of her.

  If not for the uprising, she would have given birth to Ian’s baby, but Ian had betrayed her, and so she killed him. Instead, that child growing within her had proven to be a powerful resource, an innocent life. In addition to the protective runes that covered her skin, Adessa now had that blood magic, the life magic of the unborn child, a sacrifice as potent as any slave on the great pyramid. As a woman she had given life, and as a morazeth she took it back.

  Now, as the hours of the night crawled along, she sat against the mossy bark of the tree, sensed the emptiness in her womb and compared it to the fresh strength throughout her muscles.

  She waited several hours for the moon to rise, and under the silvery light, she emerged and sprinted off again in pursuit of her quarry.

  CHAPTER 31

  Sitting inside her dark dungeon cell, Sovrena Thora wished she could become a statue again and let time slide past until this nonsense was over. Since her hardened body had no need to eat or drink, the guards had stopped bothering to deliver her meals.

  The dank cell remained silent, a stillness so deep that when she concentrated Thora could hear the delicate movement of spider legs. She once heard a rat skitter across the floor until it found a hole somewhere and escaped. No vermin had any interest in her partially petrified body.

  After hearing the rat, she ignited a small flame in her hand and spent hours inspecting her chamber, touching each stone block from floor to ceiling. Eventually she discovered a small chink in the stone that made a crack just wide enough for a skinny rat. It wouldn’t help her escape at all.

  It maddened her most that she had no idea what was happening in Ildakar. What foolishness were the dithering duma members undertaking, what irreparable damage? By now Nicci and Nathan had likely taken over the duma, named themselves sovrena and wizard commander, even though they didn’t belong in Ildakar. Thora had spent centuries building her perfect city and the interloper Nicci had been here for what? A month?

  The city Thora loved so much was disintegrating while she was trapped in here. She didn’t know whether it was day or night outside.

  After an interminable time, she heard movement in the corridor, saw bright light seeping through the small barred opening. The diversion piqued her interest, and she crept to the door, listening to footsteps. She assumed it was the rude guards again, street rabble who had no business wearing the city uniform.

  The footsteps sounded slower than a normal gait, like a warrior weighed down with armor. Since she was the only prisoner in these dungeons, and since the protective runes around the door kept her from attacking with magic, Thora wondered why anyone would need such protection against her.

  A person approached the door, and she heard the rattle of a heavy key in the lock. The crossbar slid aside and the hinges creaked. The door opened, allowing more light to stream in from the corridor. Facing her visitor, Thora was astonished to see the sorceress Lani, the woman who had challenged her and lost, who had spent centuries as a statue to serve as a warning for other would-be challengers.

  Now, the two rivals stared at each other. Thora could feel hatred emanating from her. “I came to speak with you, Thora,” Lani finally said, refusing to use her lost title. “Much needs to be said.”

  Thora wasn’t impressed. “You came to gloat.”

  “Not everyone is like you.” Lani remained at the door, and Thora made no move toward her. Although Thora was a greater sorceress than the other woman would ever be, Lani was not weak. Nevertheless, the spell runes would stifle any attack Thora might release.

  Lani continued, “I remember Ildakar from before, and I see the city now. Back then, I challenged you because I saw the damage you were doing. I’m appalled at how much worse you’ve made it. Thank the spirits we can begin rebuilding now, with you and Maxim out of the way.”

  “I preserved Ildakar! I love Ildakar,” Thora sneered. “You were always weak, just a follower, calling your birds, playing with water and scrying magic.” She sniffed. “I learned from you. I kept cages of larks as my own pretty pets, and with your scrying spells I was able to spy on the unrest in my city.”

  “It’s no longer your city,” Lani said.

  “That may be true now, but the people know what I did for them. Soon enough they’ll realize that Ildakar will fall without me.”

  The other woman suddenly changed the subject. “What did you do to Renn?” Quiet, intelligent Lani had contented herself with the weak wizard, not the best choice for a partner, although Renn had indeed been more handsome back then.

  Now Thora realized what had really brought the woman here. “He’s gone on a fool’s errand, and I doubt we’ll ever see him again. I wouldn’t expect him to succeed.”

  “I know you sent him to find Cliffwall,” Lani replied, “but what did you do to him in the intervening centuries? You hurt him, didn’t you? He was such a wise man, full of ideas, a scholar, a historian. He and I would spend hours together studying ancient spell books to hone our gifts.”

  “Yes, I remember how sweet it was,” Thora scoffed. “When you two went to bed together, did you tuck ancient books under your pillows for added romance?”

  Lani looked annoyed. “Just because we refused to take part in your pleasure parties doesn’t mean we didn’t experience our own love. You dispatched my poor Renn into the wild without preparation. How could he survive such a journey?”

  “That depends entirely on his own abilities,” Thora said.

  “In that case, I have confidence in him. And when Renn does come back and rejoin us, the duma will be even stronger. We’ll rebuild Ildakar together and make this city into a perfect society for all, not just for your selfish pleasure.”

  Thora found herself offended by the lies. “There was nothing selfish about my rule of Ildakar. Everything I did as sovrena was to make the city great. The people will realize that in time. I’ll wait.” The flickering flame in her palm suddenly flared brighter. “The only reason you’re outside that door instead o
f me is because of an accident. Three other duma members betrayed me, and my husband betrayed all of us. You had no hand in this victory.”

  Lani responded with a small smile. “A victory by accident is still a victory, and you’re still in the dungeon where you can do no further harm.”

  Her smug words enraged Thora. She bunched her stony muscles, gritted her teeth, and felt power building within her, but she knew she couldn’t release her gift. “I want to save my city, and you’ll soon see that you need my help. The people will appreciate me.”

  “They appreciate their freedom more,” said Lani. “We voted in new duma members, not just Oron and Olgya, but also a representative of the freed slaves who can speak for the lower classes. There will be merchant duma members to help determine Ildakar’s future. Together, we are one united population with a common enemy, General Utros. Someday all those people you hurt might be willing to forgive you, but not now.”

  Thora remained silent, and her stiff skin helped to mask her angry expression. She used words she knew would cut Lani deeply. “After I defeated you and turned you to stone, Renn was a broken man. He still served on the duma, but he was weak, listless. He would look at your statue and sometimes weep. A pathetic little man, but I kept him because he did as he was told. I could have taken him as my lover anytime. Renn was entirely mine. He barely cared for himself. He gained weight, his clothes were shabby and ill fitting. Even you wouldn’t want him now.”

  “I’ll decide that when I see him again.” Lani stepped away from the door, finished with her confrontation. “I don’t think I’ll ever see you again, though. If we leave you here in the cell forever, maybe Ildakar will heal.”

  She pushed the heavy door shut and slammed the crossbar into place. Keys rattled in the lock, and Lani extinguished the bright torches even before she left the corridors.

  In darkness and silence again, Thora felt helpless, furious. She had given her entire life to creating the legend of Ildakar, and now it was all being stolen from her. She could do nothing about it.

  Thora stood in front of the barricaded door. She called up the magic within her, flared the flame so she could study her stone block walls yet again. She knew the protective runes were powerful. She had crafted many of them herself long ago. No spell of hers could ever break them.

  Though she knew no one could hear her, Thora let out a loud scream of frustration. The sound echoed throughout the corridors, bouncing back on the stone walls of her cell. Unleashing all the power in her half-petrified body, she swung her fist and pounded the stone blocks that held the door in place. Her skin was hard and could feel no pain, and this time she didn’t care. She could mangle her hand if she wanted, because it would heal.

  Fury turned her fist into a battering ram. When she smashed the offending blocks, she felt the thunderous impact and heard a crack. Thora stepped away in surprise, holding up her hand to illuminate the chamber. Her stone fists were barely damaged, but when she looked at the blocks around the door, she saw a fracture in one stone. She had done that?

  This wasn’t magic. It was sheer, brute force. Her anger and her hardened body were powerful enough to break stone! She wondered how much damage she could do.

  With a growing sense of wonder, she ran her hardened fingers along the crack, noting how her blow had damaged the spell rune. Even if direct magic could not break her free, maybe her body could produce enough force to do it. She looked at her barely damaged knuckles and considered.

  This was very interesting indeed, and Thora had all the time in the world.

  CHAPTER 32

  After Renn settled in at Cliffwall, he would sit for hours with scholars who gathered around him as he held court. Verna listened to the stories, though she doubted some of his descriptions.

  Renn waxed poetic about Ildakar, wistfully talking about the things he missed. “The city has fountains on every level, and so many statues! The sculptors of Ildakar are master artisans, shaping solid marble as if it were soft clay.” He heaved a sigh. “And our terraced orchards produce the most delicious little apples you’ve ever tasted, lovely for making apple wine.”

  He had trimmed his beard, combed and oiled his brown hair after the hard days of traveling. In the intervening weeks Renn had indulged in Cliffwall’s hospitality, and now his cheeks were round again, the shadows gone from under his eyes. He was relaxed and loquacious.

  As Verna listened to him talk, she hoped to learn more about Nicci and Nathan, and how they were promoting Lord Rahl’s expectations for peace, freedom, and prosperity. Beside her, Amber listened intently, as if she were in a class about secure binding webs taught by the Sisters of the Light. When Renn waxed poetic about Ildakar, his most attentive listeners were Oliver and Peretta. The two young scholars had explored enough of the world to know that there was much more to see.

  “And how far away is Ildakar? Exactly?” Oliver inquired. “How long would it take us to go there? If we wanted to travel, I mean.”

  Renn nibbled on a crumbly biscuit from a plate beside his chair, then brushed crumbs from his restored maroon robes. “Oh, it is very far, a terrible journey. We took weeks of hard marching to find Cliffwall.”

  Peretta’s face pinched with concentration. “But you didn’t know where you were going. Surely it wouldn’t be so hard to find the route back? Oliver and I crossed half the Old World in that amount of time.”

  “Well, uh,” Renn fumbled, then wiped his mouth, “the landscape is rugged, trackless for the most part. We had great tribulations and difficulties.”

  “We had a few of those ourselves,” Oliver admitted. “Still, I’d like to see Ildakar with my own eyes.”

  Verna was surprised that the wizard looked downcast, not at all excited by the prospect of going home. “Yes, very understandable. Captain Trevor and I did see some spectacular terrain, but…” He dropped his voice, uncertain. “There’s a chance we will never find Ildakar because it is no longer there. The sovrena and the wizard commander were planning to raise the shroud of eternity again, and if they did, I will be forever outside.” He sounded professorial again. “It isn’t dissimilar to the camouflage shroud that hid this archive for all those centuries.”

  Verna spoke up. “Cliffwall’s camouflage shroud is down permanently. In fact, if we could find a way to put it back in place, then the archives would never fall into the wrong hands.” The gathered scholars muttered at her suggestion, but Verna casually brushed her curly gray-brown hair away from her ears. “It may be the only way to keep it entirely safe.”

  Amber looked to her in alarm. “But if we did that, none of us could study the archives. There’s so much here to learn, Prelate.” Her face grew flushed.

  “I meant only as a last desperate measure to protect the archive.” Verna tried to calm them. “General Zimmer always likes to be prepared.”

  In the confined canyon, Zimmer drilled his soldiers every day, keeping them in good fighting shape. Trevor and his Ildakaran guards joined in the efforts. So far, they had heard no rumors of any great army like Jagang’s sweeping across the Old World, but Zimmer would never let down his guard.

  Gloria and Franklin walked into the chamber, overhearing the last part of the conversation. Gloria said, “I would object to that strenuously, Prelate. Our knowledge belongs to all people. We can’t seal the archive again.”

  Franklin said, “In ancient times we had to protect this lore from Emperor Sulachan, but now it should be available to all gifted students, for the benefit of humanity.”

  “And not just to Ildakar.” Gloria narrowed her eyes as she looked at Renn.

  The wizard had finished the last biscuit on his plate. “I agree. The knowledge should be shared with all, under certain restrictions. Sovrena Thora might have selfish uses, but there are many gifted among the duma members and the noble classes of Ildakar. I can just imagine how my Lani and I would have adored the opportunity to study here!” He flashed a wistful smile. “Opening the Cliffwall archive could be the start of a new golden a
ge. We could bring back a time of wizards, like in the ancient history books.”

  “We’re just starting to learn here,” said Franklin. “Many of our scholars know some basic spells, but it’ll take centuries before we have a firm grasp on what the archive even holds. We don’t want to be rash.” He lowered his voice. “We learned that lesson already.”

  Verna spoke up. “Nicci made her concerns clear when she asked for representatives to come and help protect the archive. The knowledge in Cliffwall is dangerous, and it should be guarded against abuse.” She looked at the gathered listeners. “But there is more to our mission. We serve Lord Rahl in D’Hara, and his rule will bring strength and happiness to the Old World. We also need to build alliances. With Nicci and Nathan already there in Ildakar, maybe that city can become one of our strongest allies.”

  Renn nodded sagely. “I hope someday you can visit my city for yourselves, and then you’ll see that my stories don’t do it justice.”

  Verna made up her mind. “Yes, we should see it. What is wrong with now?” Oliver and Peretta lit up at the suggestion, and young Amber smiled with excitement. Verna continued, “Everything Renn says should inspire us. As Sisters of the Light we seek knowledge. We have to go to Ildakar.”

  Sisters Rhoda and Eldine looked just as interested in the prospect. The group of Sisters had departed from Tanimura seeking a new purpose for their order now that prophecy was gone and the Palace of the Prophets destroyed, and they all hoped to find their calling here in Cliffwall. Long ago, the Sisters had vowed to train and protect young men with the gift, and now all these apprentices needed to learn their true potential.

  Verna nodded firmly to herself. “Yes, we should go to Ildakar and see if we can help. Nathan Rahl is a powerful wizard and a former prophet, and Nicci is … Nicci. She was Death’s Mistress.”