Siege of Stone

by Terry Goodkind

  Majel looked at him with her raw, naked eyes. “Time has no meaning here beyond the veil. My death was like yesterday, or maybe it was forever ago. I have missed you, Utros, and that makes even an instant seem like an eternity.”

  He extended his arms, but didn’t touch the glass. He wanted to embrace her, wanted to remember her. Perhaps the only way to join Majel was with his own death, if the Keeper would allow them to be together.

  She looked alarmed as she saw him more clearly. “Your face, Utros! What happened?” The question seemed a great irony to him, considering what she had endured.

  He reached up to touch his cheek, felt the long-healed scar there that ran from his temple, around his eye, and down his cheek to vanish into the patchy area of his beard. “It is a burn from dragon fire,” he said, lowering his head. “We captured a silver dragon and meant to unleash it on Ildakar, but the dragon turned on us instead. I was burned badly, but my sorceresses healed me. Others did not recover, and the dragon escaped.”

  Utros didn’t want to talk about past history or tactical mistakes. He longed to tell Majel how he wanted to bring her back through the veil, but that was impossible. Ava and Ruva reaffirmed what Nicci and Nathan had said. The veil was forever sealed, and he would have to content himself with seeing her, hearing her. They were separated by an impenetrable wall between life and death.

  “I love you,” he said.

  The flayed spirit answered, “I love you too. I long for you. I did everything for you, Utros, and I lost everything for you. But I…”

  Another voice, grating, deep, and shudderingly familiar, emanated through the lens. “But she is mine.”

  A second form appeared out of the greenish mist, a bulky copper-skinned man with oiled black hair tied in dozens of thin braids. He had a heavy brow, a hooked nose, a strong jaw. Emperor Kurgan, his emperor, was an imposing man who had gone to fat after years of hedonistic life. When he spoke, he exposed his teeth, showing one hooked iron fang on the left side of his mouth. “Just as you are mine, General Utros. You swore your loyalty to me, as did Majel. That vow cannot be broken. Loyalty is stronger than love. I command that you remember it now!”

  The response was automatic. Utros placed a fist against his heart and bowed. “My liege.”

  Kurgan pressed closer to the lens, standing next to Majel. From his actions he still considered her his wife, his possession, his symbol. “You betrayed me. You both betrayed me.” His eyes blazed with more than just anger. “You swore. You cut your hand and poured blood into a goblet, which I drank. Majel also gave me her blood. We were bound forever. You think the Keeper ignores such vows? I demand your loyalty, both of you!”

  Utros dropped to his knee in front of the lens. “I betrayed you, my liege. I have no excuse, other than that I loved her. You have already inflicted your punishment on Majel.” His voice was raw with horror. He was glad his army could not see or hear this.

  “I need no apologies, no groveling, no explanations,” Iron Fang said.

  Inside, Utros felt as if wild horses were ripping apart his heart. “I remain loyal to you, my emperor. I conquered many lands in your name. My military force still numbers in the hundreds of thousands. I have laid siege to Ildakar as you commanded and dispatched other armies to reconquer the cities and lands that have been lost over the centuries.”

  “What is taking so long?” Kurgan demanded. “If you had been swifter in your conquest, I would have had wealth and power, and my people would never have turned on me. I would have been the greatest emperor in history, yet you left me in Orogang with this treacherous woman who pretended to love me. But now I know that when she gave me her body, she was imagining your kisses, your caresses.” He turned his glare upon the mutilated woman who stood beside him in the spirit world.

  “Loyalty is stronger than love,” Majel said, as if he had drummed it into her for fifteen centuries. “I am loyal to you, my husband.” Her voice cracked. “And I’m sorry for you, Utros.”

  The words resonated in the general’s mind. He muttered, repeating them. Loyalty is stronger than love. That was how he had been raised and trained. That was what he had held dear, until Majel changed his heart.

  “You say that?” Utros asked her. “Even after what he did to you?”

  “I remain loyal to my husband,” Majel said meekly, “to Emperor Kurgan.”

  “And I still command you, General Utros,” Iron Fang said. “Your original orders stand, now that I can communicate with you from the underworld. You must pay your price. You must do as you promised and hope for forgiveness.”

  “I will, my emperor,” Utros said, still kneeling. “A great deal has changed over the centuries, but I will regain the lands I once conquered for you.”

  Kurgan sounded annoyed, impatient. “Why don’t you have Ildakar yet? With an army of hundreds of thousands, surely you are strong enough to defeat one city.”

  He knew Emperor Kurgan was capricious, volatile. He issued orders that thousands of followers worked to implement, only to change his mind before the task was completed, while General Utros was a steady and rational commander. His soldiers followed his orders, but Utros had always done his best to do as Iron Fang instructed. Now, even though death separated them, the general vowed he would do no less.

  “My armies continue to press our siege, but the wizards of Ildakar are powerful. I don’t know if I have the weapons necessary to tear down the city just yet.” He climbed to his feet and stood as a military commander should. “But I will find a way to conquer Ildakar.”

  Kurgan spoke in a harsh voice. “If your army is too weak and you don’t have the proper weapons, then get more powerful weapons.” He snorted. “I know of the silver dragon you captured. Another failure of yours! You should have used the dragon to destroy the city, to grind those people under fire and terror. Don’t fail me again. If you are as great a general as you claim, why not capture another dragon? That shouldn’t be impossible.”

  Majel turned away. “Loyalty is stronger than love.”

  Utros swallowed and forced himself to repeat her words, for Kurgan’s benefit: “Loyalty is stronger than love.” His thoughts began turning as other parts of his mind pondered tactics, possibilities. “I will discuss the matter with my sorceresses. I had not considered calling another dragon, but that might be possible.”

  He had to try. Maybe at long last he would achieve his victory over Ildakar.

  CHAPTER 52

  “We cannot defeat them,” said Damon, sounding so reasonable. He seemed more relaxed with Nicci gone. “We have known this for fifteen centuries.”

  The wizard stood before the duma members, pacing restlessly back and forth on the blue marble tiles. The long mustaches on either side of his mouth drooped with a stylish affectation, each one tipped with a ruby bead knotted through the thin hairs. “When we sent out our best strike force against General Utros, we massacred many of the enemy, but we also lost nearly a third of our fighters.” He gestured generally toward the high windows that looked out upon the distant battlefield. “And untold numbers of the enemy remain.”

  Still seated, Nathan frowned in consternation, disappointed. He knew that Nicci would have scolded the wizard for his defeatist attitude. He cleared his throat and spoke up. “What you say can’t be denied, Damon, and I understand the uneasiness in your hearts.” Subconsciously, he rubbed the scar on his breastbone. “But the same could have been said about the Imperial Order, or Sulachan’s undead army, and yet they were both defeated. You can’t give up.”

  On the seat beside him, Elsa gave him an appreciative smile and patted his arm. “Ildakar does not give up. We can be stronger than ever.”

  The duma members were exhausted, having slept little in recent days, and despite their endless discussions, they had found no ingenious solution. Nathan considered the Ixax warriors again, but he didn’t think the titans were ready yet.

  Quentin left the stone table to join his fellow wizard in the speaking area, showing solidarity wi
th Damon. “We have to face facts, even if we don’t like what they reveal. The soldiers are constantly pounding on our walls, and although our reinforcement spells continue to hold, they cannot last forever. Our defenses may have seemed invincible when we built them thousands of years ago, but even the stone must eventually crumble. We can’t hide here forever.”

  “We defeated General Utros before,” Oron pointed out. “Is our city weaker now?” In annoyed distraction, he picked at a plate of sweetened pastries, selected one, and took a small bite.

  “Of course we are weaker!” Damon snapped. “During our greatest days, imagine what the wizards of Ildakar did. They raised this city high above the river, created the cliffs, flooded the swamps and filled them with monsters. We petrified the entire army. Could any of us do that now? Our gifted nobles are not what they once were.”

  “But Ildakar is free,” interjected Rendell, who usually didn’t speak during the meetings. The other wizards scorned him and ignored his comment.

  “We no longer have the wizard commander,” Quentin said. “Maxim was one of the most powerful wizards in our history, and he is gone. He developed the petrification spell that saved us before. Andre is dead. Ivan is dead. Renn is gone. Even Nicci has left us!”

  “Well, my friends, you do have me,” Nathan said with a wry smile. “My gift is strong. Let us not give up hope.”

  “And Renn might come home soon,” Lani said. She now wore a blue silk robe over her pale, hard skin. “If he found Cliffwall, maybe the archive there will offer something even more powerful than a petrification spell. We can use it against General Utros.”

  “I like the man well enough,” Olgya said with a frown, “but Renn always struck me as somewhat, ah, lackluster. I’m not convinced he managed to find Cliffwall at all.”

  Lani looked ready to defend the wizard she loved, but Elsa broke in. “Renn left Ildakar before the stone army awakened, so he has no idea about our crisis. He wouldn’t know what to look for.”

  Rendell spoke up again. “Ildakar will fight together in ways it never did before, but we need to know how. We have a large population, and many are willing to join our defenders if we give them armor and weapons. But we can’t simply throw fighters against the siege force. No matter how brave we are, we would lose!”

  “We would die,” Oron corrected.

  “That is a valid definition of losing,” Nathan said in an acerbic tone.

  An unexpected female voice came from the doorway. “You have me.”

  With a rustle of armor and heavy boots, two Ildakaran guards led a slender woman in a dress of flowing green silk. Her stiff hair was done up in an elaborate sculpture of braids and ringlets. Her skin was as pale as Lani’s.

  Nathan and Elsa lurched to their feet, but Damon turned to greet Thora, extending his arm in a welcoming gesture. “Quentin and I asked for the sovrena to be brought here.”

  “She is no longer the sovrena,” Lani said.

  “She is still a very powerful sorceress, regardless,” Quentin said. “We should not underestimate her powers. We need all the help we can get.”

  Thora walked two paces ahead of the guards, as if leading them. Her hands were bound with thick ropes and chains, but the restraints were merely for show. Thora had proven that she could easily break free with magic if she so chose.

  “When I let myself be captured at the wall, I vowed that I would fight for Ildakar. This is my city. My heart is the heart of Ildakar.” She entered the open speaking floor without a glance at her now-empty throne. “When I escaped, my anger caused a kind of madness in me. I did consider joining General Utros to betray Ildakar, and I am ashamed. That will never happen.” She looked at them with her green eyes, strong and confident. “But my gift is powerful, and I can help.”

  “Help with what?” Nathan tried to control his uneasiness. “Please explain.”

  Elsa’s face was flushed with anger. “You think you can return to our good graces? Damon, Quentin, and I sentenced you because of your crimes against Ildakar.”

  “Ildakar is in a different situation now,” Quentin said, embarrassed. “A desperate one.”

  Damon cleared his throat and said to the duma, “We have an idea to propose, something we have to consider as our circumstances grow worse.”

  Quentin continued in what was obviously a rehearsed presentation with his friend. “We attacked General Utros and stung him like a wasp, but that wasp will be swatted. He is bound to attack us. We bother him so little that he has dispatched a quarter of his army on other conquests. He knows he will crush us, given time. Will we just wait for it to happen?”

  Olgya snorted. “And how exactly do you suggest we use Thora to defeat him?”

  The former sovrena turned her gaze to all the duma members. “That is a mistaken assumption. We don’t have to defeat Utros to keep Ildakar safe. The solution has been right in front of us all along.” She raised her voice. “How did we stay safe for fifteen hundred years?”

  “The enemy army was turned to stone,” Lani said. “But we cannot restore that spell on such a scale.”

  “No, not that.” Quentin sniffed impatiently. “Ildakar would be saved if we just raised the shroud of eternity again. The city could retreat safely into time as we did so many centuries ago. Then it wouldn’t matter what General Utros did.”

  The proposal left the ruling chamber in sudden silence. “But the pyramid is destroyed,” Elsa said. “All the apparatus is gone.”

  Damon said, “I’m a shaper, and I could re-create the equipment. We know how to do the blood magic.”

  Oron pondered. “That might work. We could hide for a few centuries, and by then the general’s army would be long gone. None of our concern.”

  Rendell was aghast at the suggestion. “But … all that bloodshed!”

  “We just returned to the world,” Elsa said. “We would be trapped again.”

  “We would be safe,” Damon insisted.

  “Dear spirits, that would not be a good idea at all,” Nathan said. “You have to consider more than just this city. If Ildakar vanished, that huge army would range across the entire continent and wreak havoc on city after city.”

  “But Ildakar would be safe and intact,” Quentin said with a satisfied smile. “The rest of the world has to defend itself.”

  Nathan was appalled. “But all the blood sacrifices! That might be a massacre greater than any attack we could expect from Utros.”

  “Yes, it would take a tremendous bloodworking, just as it did before,” Thora said. “Thousands of volunteers. Think of how many people will die if the walls fall and Utros ransacks the city! We cannot let that happen. Better to spend the blood of the people to save the people. I know that enough devoted citizens would make the right choice. Let them decide.”

  “And you will need my help to accomplish it.” Thora lifted her delicate wrists to show the heavy bindings there. “I swore I would do what was necessary to help my city. I meant it.”

  Nathan heard muttering around the chamber. He looked in alarm at Elsa, who had gone pale. Lani said, “But we have to wait for my Renn to come back.”

  “We will wait until it is truly the last resort,” Quentin replied, sounding reasonable, just like Damon. “But for the good of Ildakar, we have to consider our options. Rather than let this city fall into enemy hands, we know what we have to do. Unless someone can think of another way to defeat General Utros?”

  “I don’t like this,” Nathan muttered. “Dear spirits, I don’t like this at all.” Maybe when Nicci returned from Tanimura through the sliph, she would bring hopeful news, and they could have a different discussion.

  “There is no reason we can’t prepare,” Damon suggested in a smooth voice. “We will spread the word throughout the city, start the people thinking about who is willing to become heroes to save our city by shedding their blood.”

  Oron stood. “That is enough discussion for now. We all need food and rest. We are not thinking straight anymore.”

&nbs
p; Lani said in a hard voice, “Thora can’t be allowed to remain free, no matter what she promises. Take her back to her cell.”

  “At least for now,” Olgya said.

  * * *

  Uneasy about the duma’s considerations, Nathan went back to visit the Ixax warriors. This time, he carried a disturbing book he had discovered in Andre’s library, an old diary. In the destruction of the villa, the shelves had collapsed and the volumes were scattered, but Nathan had read the journal with widening eyes.

  He understood far more about these towering invincible warriors and everything they had sacrificed to become the Ixax.

  As he walked into the chamber where the colossal figures stood, Nathan placed a calm smile on his face. He knew the two giants were watching him, and he wanted to keep them at ease. They focused on him each time he came to converse with them. For many days he had told the silent figures stories, regaling them with legends, even exaggerating some of his own exploits. The armored warriors knew Nathan Rahl as a person now, and he hoped the Ixax also remembered who they had been as humans.

  Andre’s diary emphasized the fact with even more poignancy than anything Nathan had told them before. He held up the old journal with its brittle, brown pages. “I know who you are now. This is a diary written centuries ago in the hand of Fleshmancer Andre himself. It is from when the army of General Utros first laid siege to Ildakar, when the wizards were desperate for any means to save the city. Do you remember?”

  He sat on a broken pillar of marble and flipped the discolored pages, skimming the scrawled handwriting. “Let me read you some of what he wrote. ‘I fear our city will fall. All of Ildakar is in panic. The wizards seek a way to fight back against this enormous horde. Our walls are strong, and our magic is strong, but the army of General Utros is like a swarm of locusts. Even if all our people go out and fight to the death, it will not be enough. We need stronger warriors, and I can create them.’”