by Duncan Lay
‘We shall do our best, your majesty, but you must remember that all these men have been raised to worship Zorva,’ Kesbury warned.
‘Nevertheless, you must try. They need to see evidence of Aroaril’s power.’
‘Indeed,’ Milly agreed. ‘They have been forced to worship the Dark One. Perhaps our healing can show them there is an alternative.’
Merren smiled. ‘Then we shall see if the city wants to defend itself against those who help wounded, rather than ripping out hearts on stone altars.’
‘They do not need many defenders. Those walls are massive—there is no way we would be able to attack them. It would be useless,’ Martil pointed out.
‘Then perhaps one of the wounded that we help can provide us with information. Look for the ones who seem to be different from the Tenochs we already saw. Remember they hold hostage thousands of people from other cities, to prevent rebellion there. There will be those who have no reason to love the Tenochs and their Fearpriests.’
‘And if not?’ Martil had to say. The anger was gone but the fear for Karia remained. He had to get inside!
‘Havell, contact Argurium. I need to have a look at the city and its surrounds.’
The Elfaran blanched. ‘Your majesty, I do not think that is advisable. Argurium is weak and near death. If something were to happen while you were high above the ground—’
‘My Queen! Let me go instead! What if something were to happen?’ Barrett interrupted.
‘I cannot send someone up there knowing they could die at any moment. Besides, I need to see it for myself, to understand how we can get inside.’
‘What about birds—’ Barrett began.
‘They cannot find something we do not know is there. I have made my decision. You have your orders!’
Gello felt his pounding heart begin to slow down. Onzalez had returned to the Temple, along with the company of guards they had kept on the wall during the disastrous attack. But Prent was still there, along with plenty of junior Fearpriests. They had been scouring the streets, finding warriors and getting them into companies, as well as ordering ordinary men onto the walls.
‘They don’t need to be armed with anything much. Even a stone dropped from up there can kill. And, anyway, our enemies just have to think the wall is well guarded,’ he had instructed.
Almost one hundred of his men had been found, the ones who had survived both the arrow storm and the terrified sprint back to the city. But one company, from almost two thousand men, was useless. He really needed more defenders. He had another three companies of Tenoch warriors, as well as perhaps a thousand Tenochs who had been dragged up onto the wall. But they just watched in silence—he did not trust them to fight with the ferocity needed to turn back Merren and her army. He had urged Onzalez to leave him the other company of guards but the Fearpriest had refused, saying he needed to secure the Temple. Gello suspected Onzalez wanted them as protection for himself against the other Fearpriests. He had seen the Temple and reckoned it almost impregnable. There were but two ways inside—the stone door at the base and an opening at the top, which led to the bloodstained altar. A score of men could hold the place forever and a day.
He had once been afraid of Onzalez, fearing the power the man boasted and the silken menace he projected. But, since Onzalez had been defeated outside Norstalos City, the man had changed. It was as if the Fearpriest had tasted fear for the first time—and it had tainted him. Not only was he unwilling to test himself against Merren’s priests and wizards, he was obviously afraid that the Tenochs and the other people he had ruled would turn on him. Still, even if the Seventeen—or Eighteen—turned on Onzalez, there was still hope for him. With Merren’s army at their front gates, the Fearpriests needed a captain for their men.
And if he could save the city now, the other Fearpriests would have to look favourably at him. With Merren destroyed and Norstalos at his mercy again, no doubt they would let him lead a new expedition to Albiona. He tried to discuss this with Mother but, without her picture, the only image he could remember was her last, when she was covered in blood and choking at his hands…so instead he walked the walls, taking reassurance from their sheer size. He had little fear that Merren’s men would be able to breach the wall or gates. There were only two gates, each as massive as the other. And the size of the walls meant he could move men swiftly from one end of the city to the other before an attack could be launched. Best of all, they had plenty of the strange spear launchers the Tenochs had developed.
But then shouts from up and down the massive battlements made his heart race.
‘Are they attacking?’ he shouted.
‘No, they are bringing back our wounded!’ someone yelled back.
Gello walked across the wide battlement to peer over. Not only was Merren there, her standard bearer holding a flag of truce, but her soldiers were dragging and carrying over hundreds of wounded Tenochs. He noted they were only Tenochs, not Berellians or his own men.
‘Gello! We need to talk!’ Merren’s voice, magically amplified, echoed over the battlements.
Gello looked down the wall, where every ordinary man pressed into service was watching nervously. They would not stand for an order to hurl spears at their own men. It looked as if he would have to talk to the bitch.
Onzalez banished his doubts as he neared the Temple. The Council would want to know what had happened—he had to act before Horna could rally opposition against him. The Dragon Egg was his only hope. He had to get to it, get it working for him if he was to have any hope of keeping his hold on the Ruling Council—to say nothing of stopping the Aroaril-lovers.
Confidence was everything, he told himself. They are used to obeying you—do not give them a reason to change. The guards on the gate waved him through, as he had expected, and he hurried inside, a company of guards with him, hoping to reach the Dragon Egg before word of his return reached the rest of the Council upstairs. If confronted, he planned to blame Gello for the loss and try to buy himself more time with the death of his co-conspirator. Still, the presence of so many guards around him was comforting. None of the other Council would dare to stop him with so many men protecting him.
Except Horna was waiting for him outside the room where the Dragon Egg was held securely.
‘What are you doing here, Brother?’ Horna asked coldly.
‘I need to reach that Egg,’ Onzalez said casually, fighting to keep his voice steady.
‘You need to come and talk to the Council,’ Horna corrected.
‘What is this nonsense?’ Onzalez blustered. ‘Out of my way or I shall have these guards remove you!’
Horna merely gestured to the guards behind Onzalez.
‘Seize him and bring him up to the Chamber,’ he ordered.
Before Onzalez could move, hands grabbed him and the guards he thought of as his were pointing spears at his face.
‘How dare you? This is an outrage! I’ll have your hearts for this!’ he screamed but they ignored him.
‘They obey only me,’ Horna said coldly. ‘Things have changed since you went away. Try to escape, try to use your power and you shall be killed.’
Merren could see hundreds of heads peering over the wall. If they had been warriors, they would have marched against her a few turns of the hourglass ago. Which meant Gello needed ordinary citizens just to defend the walls. They would not want to hurt their friends and family that her men were piling up before the city, where all could see Kesbury and Milly begin to heal their wounds. But she did not trust Gello, and Barrett stood ready to protect her in the face of treachery. Still, those people behind the walls needed to hear what she would say. It was a strange situation, almost the reverse of the one she had faced back at Norstalos City. There Gello had been the attacker and she the desperate defender. She was curious to hear what he had to say now.
The giant gates slowly creaked open, just part of the way, but enough for Gello and a score of his men to walk out. From the state of their armour, it was appa
rent they had narrowly escaped death on the battlefield earlier. And now they had to walk over the bodies of those who had been crushed and trampled in the rush to escape. These lay thickly near the gates. Some still moved, some even tried to drag themselves inside when they heard the gates open—for Merren had not wanted to send her men that close to the walls, where they could be attacked by the defenders.
Merren, with Barrett, Martil, Havell and his Elfarans, walked to meet them.
‘I hope you are not going to do something foolish,’ she warned Martil. ‘We raised the flag of truce and must show these people we can be trusted.’
Martil merely shook his head. ‘I will not break a flag of truce. And I am in control of myself,’ he promised.
She smiled at him. ‘I trust you.’
But inside she was churning. The stakes were so high here. The lives not just of her men but of every man, woman and child depended on them regaining the Egg. But after what she had so nearly done at the Derthal village, after managing to turn Martil back, she was determined not to let the end justify the means.
Gello walked to within ten yards before stopping.
‘What do you want here, Witch Queen?’ he roared, trying to be heard up on the walls above.
Merren smiled. She could do better than that.
‘We could be here to arrest you, for the crimes you have committed against men, women and children. You are guilty of treason, murder and worse. But we are here to free this city from its grip of fear. We are here to show the people that the Dark God is not the only one, and that they can live without the terror of being sacrificed, or seeing their loved ones killed,’ she replied, her voice, thanks to Barrett, booming out over the city.
She watched Gello’s face twist in anger and he strode forwards the rest of the way, until they were only a few feet apart.
‘No more games. What do you want?’ he hissed.
‘Two things. You stole a magical Egg and its protector from Dragonara Isle. Return them and we walk away,’ Merren said instantly. ‘You will not see us again. You can live here in peace. Only if you try to cross the ocean shall I see you dead.’
Gello’s eyes narrowed. ‘You want the Egg and the girl? That is it? Why?’
Merren stared at him. ‘Gello, put aside what has happened over the past year. You know I am not one for making up stories. That Egg and girl are vital not just to Tenoch or Norstalos but to every country and every person on this world. Without it, magic will die—and every living thing with it.’
Gello said nothing for a long moment and Merren felt a small stir of hope.
‘Do you think me a fool?’ he sneered.
She felt her heart sink. ‘I am telling the truth,’ she said wearily, knowing it was too late, he had made up his mind.
‘You fear the Egg, fear what it could do to you! I give it up and you shall turn it against us! The girl will work for you—in an instant you would destroy me and this city. Walk away? As if you would just walk away when you would have us at your mercy!’
‘Gello!’ Merren barked. ‘Listen to me. This is no tale—all our lives depend on this—’
‘I have heard enough,’ Gello snorted. ‘You think to outwit me! Well, it shall not work. Is that all you have to say or do I return to these impregnable walls?’
Merren sighed. ‘Only that you are welcome to take back your wounded. We shall save the worst of them, but you should have the city’s healers ready to help those with arrows in their arms and legs.’
‘Why?’ Gello sniffed. ‘I leave the gates open and your Ralloran monsters will soon be inside the city, raping and killing. It is all they live for.’
Martil just stared at Gello. One day he was going to face the man with sword in hand. He just knew it. It would be the right way to finish it.
‘We shall not attack the city until your wounded are inside,’ she replied. ‘Whether you choose to believe that or not is up to you. But I give you this last warning. Unless the Egg and the girl are given back to us, we shall not rest until you are dead.’
Gello laughed shortly. ‘I shall enjoy watching you eat your words,’ he promised, before turning and walking back to the city.
They watched him go.
‘Your orders, my Queen?’ Martil asked stolidly.
‘As I planned. I want you to march around the city, calling out that we are here to free the people from Zorva and the Fearpriests. That they can live in their own lands, their own cities once more, worship Aroaril again, live how they wish. Meanwhile we shall send all their wounded back, telling them the same message.’
‘And you, my Queen?’ Barrett asked.
‘I shall be using Argurium to look at the surrounding land, and at the city itself. It must have a weakness,’ she said determinedly.
‘And if it does not?’ Martil could not help but say.
‘Then Barrett and his Magicians’ Guild will need to bring down those gates. Havell and his Elfarans shall lead the assault. They are living on borrowed time as it is. Once inside the city we shall keep the men in hand, stay together and only fight when we have to. But we shall get the Egg, and Karia, back.’
They contemplated that for a long moment.
‘To work,’ Merren chided finally.
‘What did they want?’ Prent asked nervously. He had been waiting beside the gates, along with dozens of Fearpriests, ready to spring an ambush on Merren, should she try to get inside while the gates were open.
Gello waved irritably for him to come closer. What he had to say was not for the ears of ordinary men. They stood in the shadow of the gate, near the huge mechanism, while a dozen men slowly wound the winches that closed the enormous gates, slabs of wood that were too heavy for men to move by hand.
‘I must go and speak to the Council. They want the Egg. It must be as powerful as they say!’
‘And what of the wounded?’ Prent gestured towards where crushed and injured men still tried to drag themselves inside. Some were wailing, as they heard the gates winching shut once more.
Gello stared at them for a moment. ‘Let them in. If they are so foolish as to give us back men to fill the walls, then we shall use them. But if any Ralloran comes within fifty paces of the gates, hit them with everything we have. I won’t be long.’
Merren moved among the piles of wounded, to where Kesbury and Archibishop Sadlier laboured. Jaret and Wilsen were a step behind, and had their blades out, although she had insisted she would be safe.
‘Captain Martil will have our guts ripped out if anything happens to you,’ Jaret had told her.
‘Are they responding?’ she asked Milly.
The Archbishop wiped her sweating brow and smiled.
‘They are terrified of us—of Kesbury more than me—but pathetically grateful when we heal them.’ She gestured down at the man who clutched her hand, sobbing as he wiped away the still-wet blood that had caked his chest from an arrow wound she had healed.
‘So they are not fervent worshippers of Zorva?’
‘Not at all. They were forced to it and worship only out of fear.’
Merren smiled down at the healed man.
‘You may return to your family. And when you go back, tell them and your friends we are not here to hurt you. Our quarrel is not with the people, only with the priests of Zorva. We are here to set you free. We will see to it that there are no more sacrifices, that you can return to your home cities if you wish and rule yourselves,’ she told him.
The man stared up at her, eyes wide and mouth open.
‘It is perhaps too much for them to take in,’ Milly suggested.
Merren straightened up, hiding her frustration.
‘Are there any that you have healed that I could talk to?’ she asked.
‘Forgive me, High One, but I am such a one,’ the man croaked.
Milly and Merren looked at him.
‘I am Garas. My family was one of the ruling clans of the city of Ayan, on the far west of this land,’ he continued. ‘We were brought here
nearly thirty years ago, when Ayan fell to the Tenochs and became part of the Tenoch Empire. My father was one of thousands of Ayans made to live here, where we could cause no trouble for our Tenoch overlords. All the ruling clans, the heads of merchant guilds, every rich man and their family was brought here, to work like dogs for the Tenochs, while they took our houses and our treasures for themselves.’
‘Then, Garas, you and your people should rejoice, for we are here to break the rule of the Tenochs. You shall return to your city, and rule yourselves once more,’ Merren told him.
‘Who are you?’ Garas gasped.
‘I am Queen Merren and I rule a country far to the east of here, called Norstalos.’ She smiled.
‘I would not believe such words, for they sound like madness, had I not seen the weapon that nearly killed me pulled out of my flesh and that same flesh healed by this lady,’ Garas admitted.
‘Will you help us defeat the Tenochs? Could you open the gates for us?’ Merren asked quickly.
Garas stared at her for a long moment. ‘I can talk to my people. My family’s name carries much respect among the Ayans living in Tenoch. But we cannot fight for you. We have no weapons. Besides, all those who have fought the Tenochs have lost. And the Tenochs are not merciful. If we fail, it is not just us but our families who will pay. All I can offer is our promise not to help our Tenoch overlords defeat you.’
Merren sighed. It was about what she had expected, although less than she had hoped.
‘One more thing: do you know the layout of the Temple, what we might find inside?’
Garas’s eyes widened with fear.
‘No! None who enter there ever come out again,’ he breathed. ‘My father, my sister, many of my friends—all have gone in the back. All that comes out the other end is flesh.’
Merren nodded, feeling a little sick. She would have liked to talk longer with him, but she was afraid Gello or a Fearpriest might see their conversation and single Garas out for punishment.
