The Twisted Citadel

by Sara Douglass

  "Then you shall need to help me."

  Josia gave another slow smile. "Tell me, Maximilian--"

  "Maxel, please."

  "Maxel, then. Tell me, how far have you explored the tower?"

  "I have climbed all the way to the top chamber. Everything above this chamber is empty."

  "Yes. Ishbel, how far have you climbed?"

  "No further than this chamber, Josia," she said. "I have been to the tower only rarely."

  Josia nodded, as if digesting this information. "Maxel, how many times have you been to the top chamber?"

  "Once, when I was a boy, and once since I have been a man." His eyes glinted with humor. "It is a long climb, and a depressing one."

  "True enough," said Josia. He paused for a moment. "Maxel, have you ever looked out the window in the top chamber? It is, after all, the only level that has a window."

  Maximilian opened his mouth, then hesitated. "No, I don't think so."

  "Just as well," said Josia, "for if you had then you would have been dead."

  Maximilian looked startled, but before he could comment, Josia continued.

  "I know something of Ravenna's vision," he said. "Tell me, Maximilian Persimius, how much do you trust Ishbel? Is she worth Elcho Falling's betrayal and destruction?"

  Maximilian looked directly at Ishbel as he answered. "I trust her completely, Josia, and I do not believe her to contain Elcho Falling's betrayal and destruction, whatever vision Ravenna summons."

  Ishbel took a very deep breath as Maximilian spoke.

  "Are you certain, Maximilian Persimius?" Josia said in a soft voice.

  "Absolutely certain," said Maximilian, and Ishbel gave him a small smile.

  They stayed within the Twisted Tower until dawn. Maximilian came back to consciousness slowly, still sitting in the chair by Ishbel. He struggled to sit upright, looking at her.

  She was awake, watching him.

  "Thank you," she said.

  "For what?"

  "For trusting me."

  He gave a nod, not knowing how to respond.

  Then she gave a little smile. "I am afraid I do not have a flower to hand for your payment this morning."

  "Then I shall take my payment in other currency," Maximilian said, and leaned forward and kissed her.

  He meant to keep it brief, but somehow he did not quite lift his mouth before the kiss deepened, and he was leaning down to the bed, and she had the fingers of one hand soft against his neck.

  "My lord?"

  Maximilian pulled back.

  Serge had entered the tent. "BroadWing has returned," he said. "He needs to speak with you."

  Maximilian sank into his chair in his tent. "I cannot believe it," he muttered.

  "It was a slaughter, my lord," said BroadWing. "Axis was furious."

  "And now Axis undoubtedly is in the hands of Armat because of those fools," Maximilian said, and muttered a curse. He paused. "Where are the Lealfast now?"

  "Axis said they'd eventually come to me for some training, but for now he has sent them off to lick their wounds. They will be rejoining you once they've had time to think. It cannot be enough time for me."

  Maximilian grunted. "I cannot for the life of me believe them capable of learning any skills. You shall need good luck and some inspiration, my friend, once they join you. Well, I for one don't want to see them just yet." He paused. "Damn them, BroadWing. I cannot afford to lose Axis for any reason, let alone their stupidity."

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The Outlands

  Eleanon did not lead the remainder of his fighters north into the Sky Peaks.

  After they'd left Axis, Eleanon took the Lealfast a little way north, then turned everyone southeast instead, toward the FarReach Mountains and the Salamaan Pass.

  What he had done sickened him. Eleanon had known it was more than likely Armat had set a trap, but he deliberately led his fighters into it. Eleanon knew his force could probably have defeated Armat had he approached with more circumspection and cunning, but had chosen instead to approach directly, incautiously.

  Thousands had died, but they had not died needlessly.

  Axis now thought Eleanon--and every other Lealfast--an utter fool. That meant that Axis and Maximilian would now severely underestimate Eleanon and his fighters.

  Eleanon could use that.

  The One could use that.

  The disaster, and Axis' contemptuous dismissal of Eleanon, also meant that Eleanon was now not only free to rejoin the Lealfast Nation waiting in the FarReach Mountains, but free to seek out Bingaleal.

  Something had happened in Isembaard. Bingaleal was now something "other" than what he had been less than a day earlier.

  Something more powerful.

  Had he communed with the One?

  All of the Lealfast with Bingaleal had transformed--evolved--and Eleanon needed to know what had happened.

  Quite desperately.

  The final positive that had resulted from what might otherwise be construed as Eleanon's total madness was that Inardle was now with Axis. Her wounding was a piece of extraordinary luck, and Eleanon had used it to best advantage.

  She would be in Axis' bed within days, surely, and would prove another weapon against Axis and Maximilian.

  A weapon. Eleanon could feel what Bingaleal and the Lealfast with him had become, and he wanted it, badly. The One could give them salvation, not the weakness that currently walked as the Lord of Elcho Falling.

  So Eleanon flew southeast, drawing behind him the Lealfast fighters, toward the Lealfast Nation, toward Bingaleal and the One, and toward outright treachery against the Lord of Elcho Falling.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The Central Outlands, and Isembaard

  Insharah pulled his horse to a halt. It was close to dawn, and there was just enough light to see the horsemen waiting for him ahead.

  Forty or fifty men.

  He motioned the eight men who rode with him to wait, then urged his horse forward. When he got to within four or five paces of the group ahead of him, he reined in.

  "Who goes there?" he called out.

  "Perhaps we wonder the same thing," said one man, now pushing his horse forward to meet Insharah.

  "Ah," he said as he rode up, "you are Insharah. What is this, have you been sent out to scout for the rebellious generals? Or have you deserted with a few of your friends?"

  "Neither, Risdon," said Insharah, recognizing the man as one of Armat's leading commanders. "I bring the remainder of the army to Armat, to aid him in his quest to liberate Isembaard."

  Risdon smiled, a brief glint of teeth in the dim light. "The entire army, Insharah?" He peered dramatically behind Insharah. "What, eight men only? That's all that's left? Did Maximilian eat the rest for his breakfast, then?"

  "The rest follow an hour's ride behind," said Insharah. "I rode out ahead, as I knew Armat must be close."

  "Why should Armat trust you?" said Risdon. "You are close friends with Axis, and thus too closely allied to Maximilian for Armat to greet you easily."

  "I admire both men," said Insharah, "but my loyalties are to Isembaard."

  "And to Armat," said Risdon softly. "You forgot that important little bit."

  "And to Armat." Insharah pulled out his sword, making the men behind Risdon draw theirs as well.

  Risdon continued to sit relaxed in the saddle.

  Insharah rode forward a pace and held his sword out to Risdon, who accepted it only after a long moment.

  "You will be watched," said Risdon. "You surely didn't expect to be welcomed with open arms into Armat's camp."

  "I am Armat's man," said Insharah.

  "We'll see," said Risdon.

  Isaiah woke at dawn, stiff from a night spent on the ground. He sat up, stretching slowly to unbend his muscles, and looked at Hereward.

  He would not have been surprised to discover her dead. She'd lost so much blood, and was so weak, that a night spent in the cold could easily have killed her.

>   But even though she was lying very still, Isaiah could make out the movement of her chest.

  She breathed, at least.

  Isaiah stood, stretching his back as he looked around. There was movement on the eastern horizon, now faintly stained with pink.

  Skraelings probably, looking for food.

  Food.

  He and Hereward had very little left. Hereward had existed for days while she waited for him by living off supplies from the riverboat. But while the boat had been well stocked from the kitchens of Aqhat, most of the food had been spoiled in the horrific Skraeling attack--neither Hereward nor Isaiah felt much like eating grain sodden with clotted blood--and what remained was now almost exhausted. They would need food soon.

  Isaiah looked once more at Hereward, then bent down, picked up his sword, and trotted off into the lightening landscape.

  Two hours later Hereward stirred, then, with some difficulty, rolled over toward the fire.

  Isaiah sat there, cooking something in a pot on the coals.

  It smelt like meat, and Hereward's mouth watered.

  "Isaiah?"

  "How are you?" he asked.

  "Alive," she said. "Just. Isaiah...what is that you're cooking?"

  He grimaced. "Four Skraelings had run down an antelope to the north. I managed to chase them off...there are a few mouthfuls left. Not much, I am afraid, and not the choicest bits."

  "It smells good, nonetheless." Hereward looked at Isaiah more carefully. "You're injured."

  "Not badly. One of the Skraelings caught my arm with its claws. It will heal soon enough."

  Hereward struggled to sit up, overbalancing slightly as she almost blacked out with the effort.

  "Isaiah, please, go on without me. You can leave me here. You don't need me to hold you up."

  "Such a tempting idea," Isaiah said, allowing a little humor to creep into his voice, "but I can't do that.

  You're all of my Tyranny I have left."

  He was rewarded with a small smile.

  "This is almost cooked," he said. "Do you want--"

  "I would eat it raw!"

  Isaiah smiled--that was her desperation for blood talking--and dished out some of the barely cooked meat into a bowl.

  "Insharah," Armat said. "Risdon tells me that you have decided to join us."

  Insharah paused just inside the door of the tent, and saluted with his clenched fist across his chest.

  "I am loyal to Isembaard," he said.

  "Well, that is as may be," said Armat, "but why are you here?"

  "Because you, too, are for Isembaard."

  Armat said nothing, watching Insharah carefully.

  "I bring the remainder of the army," said Insharah, "save for some few thousands who decided to remain with Maximilian."

  "So also Risdon informed me. Did you not kill Maximilian?"

  Insharah blinked. "No. I...I asked his permission to leave his command so that--"

  "Don't treat me like a fool, Insharah. Do you honestly want me to believe that Maximilian just waved you good-bye happily and with warmest best wishes?"

  "He did not want to hold us against our will," Insharah said. "He knew how desperate we were to aid our families. He did, indeed, wish us well."

  "But you didn't tell him that you were riding toward me."

  "Not in so many words, my lord, but he must have realized we'd join up with you."

  Armat turned away, pretending to toy with some maps on a table so that he could think.

  Ravenna had let him know that Insharah and the army were on their way to join him. She'd told him that she'd interrupted their sleep with nightmares of the cruelty their families endured, and thus Armat was not in the least surprised to discover Insharah in his tent, and approximately two hundred thousand men within a few hours' distance, but he was surprised to hear of Maximilian's willingness to allow the army to go.

  Maximilian was either smarter than Armat had given him credit for, or he was a complete fool.

  Armat himself was not such a complete fool that he believed the latter option. Maximilian was up to something, but whatever that "something" was, Armat knew he would not discover it from Insharah, who was enough of a fool to think that there was anything left worth trying to save in Isembaard.

  "Well then," Armat said, turning about with a genial smile on his face, "I shall admit myself glad to have your company again, Insharah, and that of the men you drag at your heels."

  "When will we march for Isembaard?" Insharah said.

  "When we are strong enough," said Armat. "There are more men yet to join us, and supplies to organize.

  Now, go find Risdon and get him to organize you some breakfast, and tents and horse lines for the men soon to arrive."

  Insharah saluted again, and walked over to the door. He paused just as he was about to duck through and looked back to Armat.

  "Axis SunSoar and Georgdi were in this area," he said, "together with a large force of Lealfast. Have you come across them?"

  "I slaughtered them," said Armat. "They were fools. But lose that look of dismay, Insharah, for Axis still lives. At my pleasure." He paused. "They wanted to stop us, Insharah. They did not want us to go home to Isembaard."

  "Axis--"

  "Axis is none of your business. Now leave me."

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The Central Outlands and Isembaard

  Axis woke only very slowly. His head throbbed with pain, and he didn't want to wake enough that he might actually move it.

  Stars, why come back from death if he had to endure this level of pain again?

  "Axis?"

  That was Zeboath's voice. Axis decided to ignore it.

  "Axis..."

  Go away, Axis thought, not wanting to use his voice in case even that small amount of movement within his head increased the pain.

  "I'm going to place a compress against the back of your head, Axis."

  "Don't!" Axis whispered, then moaned as agony flared up the back of his skull.

  He felt a hand on his shoulder, and then a cool wet cloth placed at the back of his neck.

  The pain flared again, but then very, very slowly subsided.

  "Axis," Zeboath said one more time, and Axis finally, and highly reluctantly, opened his eyes.

  At first he saw nothing, and had a moment of panic as he thought his injury must have blinded him. But then his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, and he saw that he, Zeboath, and two others were sitting in some kind of cellar...there was a faint glimmer of light above them from a shuttered window...or perhaps slatted wood.

  Axis was sitting slouched against a wall, and he closed his eyes again as he slowly, and very painfully, tried to sit up a little straighter, accepting Zeboath's assistance without complaint.

  Stars, he was weak!

  "What happened," Axis said, squinting once more into the darkness. "Where am I? Who else is here?"

  "We're in a pit," came Georgdi's voice, "somewhere in Armat's camp. So far as we can work out it is midmorning. It was last night that Armat captured us. You've been unconscious for most of the night."

  "One of Armat's men hit you on the back of the head with the hilt of his sword," Zeboath said. "We thought at first he'd killed you."

  "Death would have been less painful," Axis muttered. "Trust me, I've been there before. Who else is here?"

  "I am," came Inardle's voice, and Axis looked in the direction of her voice and saw her crouched against a far wall.

  "How are you?" Axis said.

  "Stiff," she said. "Sore. Heartsick."

  "Did Armat..." Axis couldn't finish.

  "Armat killed all the Lealfast," said Zeboath. "My assistants he spared, but I do not know where they are."

  Shit, Axis thought.

  "So what do we do now, StarMan?" Georgdi asked, a little light sarcasm in his voice.

  "Wait," said Axis. "We wait."

  Isaiah and Hereward had eaten what little meat there was, Isaiah making sure that Hereward had the larg
er share.

  "We cannot leave for a few days," Isaiah said. "You are too weak."

  "Isaiah, I--"

  "Please don't suggest that I leave you behind. I won't do it."

  Hereward almost said she was sorry again, then decided Isaiah had probably heard that too much. She was both physically and emotionally numbed from all that had happened over the past day. She could barely move, and her upper body throbbed painfully where the Skraeling talon had penetrated. Her body and robe were encrusted with blood, and she wanted nothing more than to wash...but they didn't have enough water to spare, and what they did have they certainly couldn't afford to contaminate with dried blood.

  It was ironic, she thought, that they camped on the banks of such a great river, and there was no water.

  While her physical condition distressed her, what Isaiah had told her--as well as what the One had done with that pyramid--had shocked her as even the Skraeling attack on the riverboat had not.

  Hereward simply could not comprehend that so much had been happening, and that so much had not been as it had appeared. She found it difficult to grasp the fact that what she'd believed to have been a secure life had in fact been so precarious.

  And Isaiah had sat there on his throne and overseen the entire disaster.

  Hereward tried to be angry with him, but she couldn't summon the energy. Breathing was more important for the moment.

  "Hereward," Isaiah said, "I've said some things to you that were unnecessary. Words that were hard and cruel. I was wrong to do that. You are far more than `just' the bastard daughter of a slave and servant within my palace."

  He stopped for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "The book that hit you on the head has been missing for some two thousand years. It chose you to reveal itself to and it chose to involve you in...all of this." He waved a hand about as if indicating all of Isembaard's troubles. "You are far more than just Hereward the kitchen steward."

  Hereward was so incensed she had to close her eyes briefly. Isaiah had to make her something other than a serving woman in order to feel comfortable? "Does that make you feel better about traveling with me, Isaiah?" she said.

  He sighed softly, then rose and left the campfire.