The Twisted Citadel

by Sara Douglass

  "It hated me," said Ravenna. "I could barely hold it without the damn thing hissing."

  Lister finally laughed, soft and genuinely amused. "Then it must be a Persimius, my friend."

  She shot him a dark look. "What if whatever is in there is Ishbel's dark conspirator? Could that be why it never liked me?"

  Lister went very still, thinking.

  "What should we do, Lister?" Ravenna said, quietly.

  He continued to think, his eyes fixed on the distant horizon, his teeth working at an edge of his lower lip.

  Eventually he put a hand on Ravenna's shoulder, pulling her close. "How powerful are you, Ravenna?

  And how badly do you want to save this land?"

  CHAPTER SIX

  Isembaard

  Isaiah had torn a strip of cloth from Hereward's robe, twisted it around a pebble, then tied it across her neck and under one arm so that the pebble pressed down on the still-oozing vein.

  He sat a few paces away, looking at her, wondering if he dared risk using a little of the water they had left to wash his hands.

  He decided Hereward would need it more.

  She looked as close to death as any could get without actually stepping over the threshold. She was white, her skin cold and clammy, and she was too weak to stand. Blood encrusted the upper portion of her body, from her chin to her waist and belly. She was shivering, her body trying its best to warm itself.

  "I'm sorry," she whispered, as she had been whispering every so often these past hours since the One had vanished.

  Isaiah had not responded to her once. He had attended her as best he could, and had then moved away to sit by himself.

  Hereward did not blame him for isolating himself from her. She had known nothing of his true nature, and still knew little of it now save that he'd given up a great deal for her.

  A woman he disliked.

  Just to save her life.

  A wave of nausea and dizziness threatened to overwhelm her, but Hereward fought it off.

  "Isaiah," she said, clearing her throat to make her voice work properly.

  He made no response.

  "Isaiah, leave me. Get to Maximilian as fast as you may." She paused, fighting off another wave of dizziness. "I will just hold you back, and--"

  He turned to her at that. "I have given away that which is most precious to me, beyond the gift of life itself, in order that you may live, and you say, `Just walk away'? If I'd known you'd wanted to die then I

  would still have my own life intact!"

  "I'm sorry."

  "The One wanted to torment me. He wanted me to ruin myself for a woman for whom I cared nothing.

  The ultimate cruelty. If you had been Ishbel I would not have minded. But you--"

  "Isaiah, I am sorry!"

  "Stop telling me you are sorry! I never want to hear it again! I am the one who is sorry, Hereward."

  Isaiah stopped, taking a deep breath.

  "And now I am sorry," he said. "None of this is your fault. None of it. I apologize for what I just said to you, Hereward."

  She was crying quietly, unable to look at him.

  He hesitated, then rose, fetching a small flask of water they'd kept filled from the rapidly emptying barrels on the riverboat, and squatted down by Hereward.

  "Drink something," he said. "You will be thirsty with all the blood you have lost."

  He put the flask to her lips, and Hereward held it and took a sip.

  Then she began to gulp as she realized how parched she was.

  "That's enough," Isaiah said, taking back the flask. "You'll make yourself ill."

  Hereward wiped her mouth, smearing it pink from the dried blood on the back of her hand. "Who are you, Isaiah? What is going on? What is happening?"

  "It is a long and sad tale," he said, then sat down by her, checked the compress on her neck, and began to speak in a low tone.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The Central Outlands

  Axis went in search of Inardle once BroadWing had left to fly back to Maximilian. He supposed there were other things he could have been doing, but none of them would have been much use, and he needed to find Inardle.

  Very badly.

  He was still furious at Eleanon's stupidity, and he thought that he might actually kill him if he'd left Inardle to die back at the ambush gully.

  But in the end he found Inardle just before dusk, and Eleanon's life was spared.

  She was huddled by herself a little distance from the main group of Lealfast. Axis almost fell over her by accident as he was moving toward a section of the Lealfast he hadn't yet searched.

  "Inardle!"

  She was curled on the ground, wrapped about her belly, her wings askew behind her. Both her body and wing posture instantly told Axis she was hurt, and badly.

  "Inardle." Axis crouched down, putting a hand on her shoulder, trying to roll her over.

  She resisted a moment, then uncurled slightly.

  Her arms, belly, and chest were covered with blood, but at least her eyes were bright.

  "Where are you wounded?" Axis said.

  Inardle moved a hand slightly, over her lower rib cage, and Axis pushed it gently to one side and lifted back the sodden material of her tunic.

  There was a long, deep gash running from her lower rib cage across the top third of her belly.

  "Anywhere else?" he said.

  "One of my wings," Inardle said. Her voice was unnaturally calm, and Axis wondered if she was in shock. "I managed to get back here, but I do not think I can fly again for a while...my wing..."

  Axis quickly checked her wing--a sword had sliced deep into its underside close to her back. He thought it was possible the blade had cut one or more tendons in the wing and that she had managed to get this far was a miracle. But at least it wasn't bleeding much, and was thus not fatal.

  But the belly wound...

  He rolled her very carefully onto her back, ignoring her soft cry of pain as her injured wing momentarily caught beneath her, and examined the wound over her belly more carefully.

  "This needs to be stitched," he said, "and we need to pray the blade didn't slice open any of your internal organs."

  He rocked back on his heels. "We have only one physician with us, and he has only two assistants. He won't have time to see you."

  Axis looked up, called over one of the soldiers that Georgdi had left behind, and asked him to find Zeboath and beg a needle and thread from him.

  "I have spent years in the battlefield," said Axis to Inardle, "and I didn't always have a physician with me.

  I have stitched more battle wounds than I care to remember. I may not do a pretty job, Inardle, but I can do something for you."

  Axis realized suddenly that Inardle was silent. "Inardle?"

  She gave a little nod of acknowledgment, but did not speak.

  "Nothing in your chest hurts?" said Axis. "Your throat or upper back?"

  "No," she said, finally, and Axis felt himself relax a very little. She cleared her throat. "Eleanon? Have you seen him?"

  "Yes."

  "Is he injured?"

  "A little. Not enough."

  "Eleanon--"

  "Has murdered with carelessness thousands of your people, and injured everyone you can see about.

  There are thousands who have died, and who will die, Inardle." Axis paused. "He's had no battle experience at all, has he?"

  Inardle turned her head away from Axis, and did not reply.

  "Stars, I suspected it, and still I sent him into danger. I am a fool, Inardle." Axis paused, looking out over the mass of Lealfast spread over the plain. It was growing dim now, and the individual Lealfast were turning into indistinguishable lumps under the darkening sky. It was a complete disaster, with Armat on his way to turn it into a greater one.

  "Inardle?"

  She made no reply.

  "Inardle, I know the Lealfast use the Star Dance in a manner I don't comprehend. The way you move invisibly through the air...the way
Bingaleal vanished after his assassination attempt on Isaiah. Can you not do the same now? Everyone here is vulnerable. Armat is heading this way, he can't be far away now, and there are more soldiers--" Many more. Thousands more. "--moving down from the north. We need to get everyone to safety."

  "When we are bloodied," Inardle said, lifting a bloodstained hand slightly, "we lose the ability to vanish into the air. We really can only travel invisibly when we are whole. We cannot fight in that state, and if we are wounded...then no. It is too powerful an enchantment to be worked when we are distracted with other matters."

  Shit, Axis thought. "Inardle, can you call your brother here?"

  "Yes, but--"

  "Call Eleanon here. Now."

  "He didn't answer before, Axis, when I tried. That's why I asked you if--"

  "Call him now, and let him know that I need to see him, and that you are badly wounded. Call him.

  Now!"

  She closed her eyes, and Axis felt a little disturbance in the Star Dance about him.

  Just then the soldier arrived back carrying a little pack.

  "Zeboath said there is suturing equipment inside, as well as a poultice and some antiseptic swabs."

  "At least there is someone around here I can rely on," Axis muttered as he unwrapped the pack, then looked back at the soldier. "Thank you...I included you in that group of those I can rely on, if you didn't realize."

  The soldier gave a small smile and a nod of acknowledgment.

  "What is your name?" Axis asked.

  "Raph, my lord."

  "You are one of Georgdi's men, Raph?"

  "Yes, my lord."

  "Then no wonder I can rely on you," Axis said. He knew he was punishing the wrong person by pushing this point in front of Inardle, but right at this moment he was still too angry to care. He paused while he threaded a needle with catgut.

  "Raph, Georgdi left some men with you..."

  "There are nine others, my lord."

  Axis carefully pulled the thread through, then set the suture needle to one side. "Raph, I want you to collect the other men and ride from here. You know the Isembaardians are closing in on us."

  "We will not leave you--"

  "You damn well will leave me!" Axis said, then apologized for his tone. "Look, Raph, I am going to stay with the Lealfast. Armat will not kill me, I am too important a hostage, and, whatever else he might do, Armat will recognize that usefulness. But he will kill you, and don't give me any bravado about fighting to the last man. There is no need for you to die. Not for the Lealfast. Catch up with Georgdi, and tell him that I have stayed behind."

  Raph gave a nod, then moved off.

  "You must really hate us," said Inardle.

  "I am very, very angry at you," said Axis. "Have none of you any sense?"

  He pushed her hands away from her belly, and tore back the material of her tunic to expose the top portion of the wound. As he did so, he inadvertently exposed one of her breasts, and Inardle clutched her hands over her chest protectively.

  Her gaucheness and modesty irritated Axis, and somewhat frustrated him. Hadn't she been Lister's lover? If so, she'd probably insisted they kept their clothes on for their beddings.

  "Keep your hand out of my way," he said, pushing one of Inardle's hands away from the top of her wound, and ignoring her look of embarrassment. He swabbed away roughly at the blood about the wound, not caring that Inardle bit her lip in pain as he did so.

  Frost encircled the wound, then ran a little way along one of her ribs.

  Axis stopped, staring at it, then looking at Inardle in question.

  "We frost, StarMan," she said, "when we are in pain, when we are delighted, or at the touch of a lover's hand." She paused. "That was caused by pain."

  Axis' mouth twitched into a smile, which faded almost instantly as he wondered what it would be like making love to her and watching his fingers trail frost across her body.

  There was the sound of a step behind him, and Axis jerked his mind away from images of Inardle's aroused and frosted body.

  "Inardle!"

  Eleanon bent down beside his sister. Someone had removed the arrowhead from his arm, and it was now roughly bandaged. "What are you doing?" he said to Axis.

  "I am trying to help your sister," Axis said. "There was no one else about to aid her."

  "I--" Eleanon began.

  "Armat is close," said Axis. "I've sent the few remaining Outlander soldiers away. I will stay with the wounded, but I want you, Eleanon, to take every last one of the Lealfast who can fly and find somewhere you can lick your wounds and reflect on your stupidity. The lower Sky Peaks, perhaps. Eventually I want you to report to BroadWing EvenBeat, who commands the Strike Force with Maximilian Persimius, so he can teach you some warcraft. But not yet. You are useless to everyone at the moment. Heal your wounds, lose some of that blind arrogance of yours, and then you may prove of some use. Come back when you're prepared to learn, and not before."

  "I--" Eleanon said again.

  "You will take those Lealfast who can fly and you will leave!" Axis said. "I truly mean it when I say you are of no use here."

  "Eleanon," Inardle said, "do as Axis says."

  She locked eyes with Eleanon for an instant, and he gave a curt nod. He leaned down and gently kissed Inardle's cheek, then whispered into her ear: "Use this opportunity, sister."

  Eleanon straightened. "The Sky Peaks," he said to Axis.

  "And then to Maximilian at Elcho Falling, if you have managed to learn some sense," Axis said.

  Eleanon gave a nod, stepping back.

  Axis began to stitch Inardle's wound, not seeing Eleanon's small smile of satisfaction as he lifted into the air.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  On the Road to Serpent's Nest

  They gathered in Maximilian's command tent just after dusk: Ishbel, Maximilian, StarDrifter, Salome, Garth, Egalion, and BroadWing. Maximilian was worried for Ishbel's safety. They simply could not wait until they got to Serpent's Nest to free the Weeper, nor until they raised Elcho Falling.

  But what would it do to Ishbel?

  Maximilian was worried also about Ravenna. He hadn't seen her all day, and when he'd sent Garth to look for her earlier, Garth had returned with the news that he had not been able to find her.

  What was she up to? Maximilian wished he'd had the forethought to ask Ravenna to return home to Escator well before this.

  He looked at Egalion and raised his eyebrows.

  Egalion gave a nod. The tent is protected.

  Maximilian hoped that whatever, or whoever, the Weeper might yield, that it would be worth this risk.

  "Are you certain you have no idea what, or who, the Weeper might hide?" Maximilian asked Salome.

  Salome shifted a little, easing her back. She was very close to giving birth now, and StarDrifter had not wanted her to attend tonight because of the inherent danger, but Salome had insisted.

  And whenever Salome insisted, she tended to get her way.

  "We knew nothing of it," she said. "Trust me when I say I tried to unearth whatever information I could, thinking to unleash yet more of its powers. All I know, as all the dukes of Sidon ever knew, was that an extraordinarily powerful soul went into its making."

  "A good soul," said Egalion, "or a wicked soul? I do not like that everyone seems to assume that the Weeper's soul will be benevolent."

  "Thank you for that touch of negativity," StarDrifter muttered. "I am sure we all truly appreciate it."

  "The Weeper has never done anything wicked, Egalion," Maximilian said. "Not since I have known it, and--" he raised his eyebrows at Salome.

  "No. Never anything wicked," she said. "It tended to do anything we wished of it save harm to another."

  She gave a small smile. "Naturally the dukes of Sidon, as myself, thought that a terrible flaw, but we managed. It gave us protection and incredible riches, and we learned to ask no more of it."

  Maximilian looked down at the bronze statue he had in his lap.
It looked so innocuous, but it had been through such a journey to reach him and had been so desperate to reach him that surely, surely, its soul had some meaning.

  "Ishbel?" Maximilian said. "Are you ready?"

  "Yes," Ishbel said.

  "Ishbel, be careful."

  "I'm ready," she said, "but I am only going to try this the once, Maxel. If I can't do it this time, I do not think I could ever try again."

  "If it gets too dangerous," Maximilian said, "then get out. We can live without whatever the Weeper might hide. Ishbel, I cannot live without you."

  She took a deep breath at that, and locked eyes with him for a long moment. Then she gave a nod. "Give me the Weeper, Maxel."

  Venetia walked through the night. She walked some fifty paces north of Maximilian's command tent, through the low brush and early spring turf, turning every so often to glance at the softly illuminated tent, looking at the shadows of the people inside moving against the canvas walls. The tent was ringed by armed men, but Venetia wondered what use they might be against whatever walked this night.

  She could feel the pathways between the Land of Dreams and this world opening up, and power seeping across.

  Ravenna. Venetia wept, cursing her daughter. Why was Ravenna doing this? Why? Venetia wished she were home in her house in the marshes; instead, she was so far distant from the smell of the marsh that she could barely remember it.

  What did she do here? What was the point of it? Why had she come?

  "Why, Ravenna?" Venetia whispered. "Why this?"

  She turned for her own tent, looking one more time at Maximilian's command tent.

  Ishbel was starting her journey into the Weeper now.

  Venetia knew beyond any doubt that she would never come out.

  Not alive.

  CHAPTER NINE

  The Central Outlands

  Eleanon had left, together with those Lealfast who could fly. Axis had no way of numbering them, but they had made a vast cloud as they lifted into the air and flew slowly northward.