Mask of Swords

by Jonathan Moeller

  “I think,” said Liane. She took a deep breath. “I think I should surrender to the Prophetess.”

  “No,” said Sigaldra. “No. Absolutely not. I forbid it.”

  “You are the holdmistress,” said Liane. She rubbed at her eyes, and Adalar saw tears there. “You have to guard the Jutai people, not just me. This is all happening because of me. All those dead and wounded men. I do not…I do not want any other men to die on my account. You cannot sacrifice the Jutai nation to save your sister.”

  “You are my sister, but that has nothing to do with it,” said Sigaldra. “You are Jutai. I would not surrender a single one of our people to Earnachar and his damned Prophetess. Not for any reason. The Malrags and the Tervingi and the runedead have already taken too many of us.”

  “But…” said Liane.

  “No,” said Sigaldra. “No argument. We will not give you to the Prophetess. Not you, not anyone.”

  “But if it could save the others…” said Liane.

  “It wouldn’t,” said Sigaldra. “If you sacrificed yourself, it would be for nothing. The Skuldari would not stop. Earnachar certainly would not stop. They would take you for whatever evil purpose the Prophetess has in mind, and they would keep attacking Greatheart Keep.”

  Liane shook her head, her frustration plain.

  “Forgive me, Lady Liane,” said Adalar. “It may not be my place to speak here, but I fear that your sister is correct. The Prophetess strikes me as a woman without mercy, a woman so dedicated to her cause that she will commit any crime and speak any lie to reach it. Lucan Mandragon and Caraster of Mastaria were of a similar mold. If you surrender, it will be for naught. The best thing we can do is to hold out for as long as we can, in hopes that aid will reach us before it is too late.”

  “But I had a dream,” said Liane. “A vision of the Sight that came to me while I slept.”

  A flicker of dread went over Sigaldra’s face. “What did it show you?”

  “I stood in a dead forest with two paths before me,” said Liane. “On the left-hand path, I went with the Prophetess and left Greatheart Keep behind. On the right-hand path I stayed in Greatheart Keep, and our homes burned and the Jutai were slain, the urns of our ancestors smashed and their ashes thrown into the wind.”

  Silence answered her.

  “Perhaps you were mistaken,” said Sigaldra. “Perhaps it was not a dream of the Sight.”

  “No,” said Liane, her voice grave. “It was not, sister. I wish it was…but it was not. I know the difference between the two.”

  Sigaldra shook her head, her lips pressed into a bloodless line.

  “In your vision,” said Adalar, “in the left-hand path, the path where you went with the Prophetess…did you see what happened to Greatheart Keep?”

  “The vision did not show it,” said Liane.

  “Then it seems to me,” said Adalar, “that you had best not go with the Prophetess.”

  “But if I stay, Greatheart Keep shall be destroyed,” said Liane.

  “If you leave, Greatheart Keep could be destroyed anyway,” said Adalar. “Nor did the vision show every possible future. Aid could yet come. Disease could break out among the besiegers, thanks to all the corpses.” Adalar shrugged. “I know little of visions and prophecies, but I do not think that you should presume that you know the future beyond all doubt.”

  They stood in silence for a while.

  “Perhaps…you are right,” said Liane.

  Sigaldra nodded. “He is. Go back to the church, Liane. I think Kuldura and Ulfarna will have tasks that need to be done.”

  “Yes.” Liane hesitated. “Be careful, sister. You are afraid of losing me…but I am just as afraid of losing you.”

  “I will,” said Sigaldra, and Liane turned and left.

  Sigaldra closed her eyes and let out a shuddering breath.

  “She would have done it, wouldn’t she?” said Adalar after a while. “Surrendered herself to the Prophetess.”

  “Aye,” said Sigaldra. “When she makes up her mind, she is as stubborn as a mule.” She looked at him. “Thank you. I think…I do not think I could have persuaded her otherwise.”

  Adalar nodded. “We should not give up hope.”

  She snorted. “You have already given up hope, as have I. You are just…acting the lord in front of me, persuading me not to despair.”

  “You are the holdmistress of the Jutai,” said Adalar, “and I am the Lord of Castle Dominus. Despair is not a luxury we are allowed to permit ourselves.”

  “Yes,” said Sigaldra. “You are entirely right.” She took a deep breath. “Let us return to the walls and see if our doom shall come today or tomorrow.”

  ###

  “It’s going to be soon,” said Talchar One-Eye, pointing.

  Sigaldra scowled.

  Reinforcements, both Skuldari raiders and Tervingi thains, had bolstered Earnachar’s forces, and two thousand men now waited outside the walls. The Skuldari and the thains had dispersed, ripping down every barn and cottage and silo they could reach. From the raw materials they began to assemble ladders. They had brought six with them, and Talchar thought they might have constructed six or eight more.

  That could mean twelve ladders hitting the walls at once. And if the soliphages spearheaded the assault, or Rigoric threw himself into the fray, the enemy might well seize the ramparts.

  To say nothing of what would happen if the valgasts at last finished their tunnels.

  “I agree,” said Arnulf.

  “Perhaps a sortie,” said Wesson. The stocky knight had been a pillar of their defense, his steady equanimity never wavering. “Their footmen are dispersed widely, and we still have most of our horses. If we hit them while they are constructing their ladders, perhaps we can inflict heavy losses upon them.”

  “I fear not,” said Adalar. “See how the Skuldari have positioned their spiders? And where Earnachar placed the horsethains? If we ride out to charge the footmen, the spiders and the horsethains will encircle us in short order, and we shall be overwhelmed.”

  Arnulf grunted. “Their men seem better arrayed.”

  “Perhaps they’ve learned from experience,” said Vorgaric.

  “Or perhaps,” said Adalar, “Earnachar himself has taken a hand.”

  “What do you mean?” said Sigaldra.

  “The first assaults ended badly for the enemy,” said Adalar, gesturing at the rotting dead strewn below the wall. “I think the Prophetess was controlling the attack directly. After that fell apart, she must have told Earnachar to do what he wished, so long as Greatheart Keep fell.”

  “Aye,” said Sigaldra, “you’re likely right.” The enemy seemed to be controlling themselves much more competently now, and Earnachar, for all his bluster, was an experienced commander.

  “They’ll try and hit us all at once,” said Talchar. “All twelve ladders. Archers can stop three or four of them, but…” He grunted, his crystalline eye reflecting the afternoon sun. “If Earnachar’s smart, he’ll have the soliphages leading the attack, holding the rampart so the Skuldari can ascend.”

  “The valgasts might strike as well,” said Adalar. The vibrations in the cellars had not stopped. Sigaldra had ordered the cellars blockaded, but she knew that would do little. The valgasts might well tunnel up into the main square.

  “We may have to fall back to the keep,” said Talchar.

  “We can’t fit everyone into the keep,” said Sigaldra.

  “We can’t,” said Talchar. “But we can fit some into the keep. And we can fight in the streets as we withdraw.”

  “Where the valgasts can ambush us,” said Vorgaric.

  Sigaldra nodded. Earnachar’s plan was obvious. Unfortunately, it would also be effective. If the Skuldari and the soliphages overwhelmed the walls, and the fighters and the Jutai fell back to the keep as the valgasts ambushed them in the streets…

  It would be a slaughter.

  She had always known it would end like this, but it was nonetheless chillin
g to see how her people would die.

  “Let all the folk know,” said Sigaldra. “At the sound of the horn, abandon the walls and fall back to the keep. Tell the women and children…tell the women and children to proceed to the keep now. As many as can fit inside. If we have to fall back from the walls…when we have to fall back from the walls, we will fight in the streets. Hold out for as long as we can until aid arrives.”

  “If aid arrives,” said Talchar.

  “It will,” said Sigaldra, forcing hope into her voice that she did not feel. “And if does not, we shall die as Jutai.”

  “I suggest we hold a force in reserve,” said Timothy. “If the valgasts strike, and we are caught between them and the walls, the battle will be over quickly.”

  “Aye,” said Sigaldra. “Arnulf?”

  “I will wait in the square with my thains,” said Arnulf. “If the walls seem on the verge of falling, we shall intervene. If the valgasts emerge from the earth, we shall hold them back until you can withdraw from the walls.”

  “Very well,” said Sigaldra. “We…”

  “They’re moving,” said Talchar.

  The Skuldari had arranged themselves into twelve columns around the ladders. Earnachar rode back and forth before the columns, the Prophetess riding at his side. To judge from his posture, he was haranguing the Skuldari.

  “Arnulf,” said Sigaldra. “Withdraw to the square. If we call, come. If not…”

  “If not,” said the Tervingi headman, voice grim, “then we shall hold back the valgasts as long as we can.”

  “Thank you,” said Sigaldra. “All of you, thank you.” She took a deep breath. “You are not Jutai, but you have defended us nonetheless. You have met your obligations to your lord honorably.” She looked at Adalar. “Even those of you who are not of the Grim Marches. You are all honorable men and valiant warriors.”

  “Thank you,” said Adalar.

  “If the speeches are done,” said Talchar, “we should prepare ourselves. I think the Skuldari are going to come at us any minute.”

  “Go,” said Sigaldra. “May the ancestors and whatever gods you worship watch over you.”

  A roar went up from the Skuldari warriors, and the twelve ladders started forward.

  ###

  Adalar adjusted his grip on the greatsword, the setting sun throwing long shadows to the west.

  The twelve ladders came closer. The Skuldari had learned from their previous failures. Warriors with shields screened the ladders, protecting them from arrows. The archers loosed steady volleys, and some of the warriors fell, but most of them did not. The ladders were going to reach the wall.

  All of them at once.

  The archers stopped, holding their fire until the warriors started ascending the ladders, when they would be more vulnerable and less able to shield themselves.

  “Stand ready,” said Adalar, looking at his men. Some of them had been with him since the Great Rising and Caraster’s rebellion, and he hated the thought that they had survived the Runedead War only to die here.

  “There’s so many of them,” said Wesson, “that it will be all the easier to hit them.”

  Adalar nodded. The ladders reached the base of the wall, and the Skuldari warriors started to lift them. The ladders were empty, and Adalar was surprised that the Skuldari had not sent up some warriors on the ladders. It would be easy enough to throw the ladders back, especially since…

  “My lords!” Timothy’s voice rang over the wall. “The ladders! Beware! A cloaking spell! It…”

  The top of the ladders undulated with ripples and mist. The ripples cleared, and atop each ladder crouched a dark-cloaked form, the black robes billowing to reveal crimson-armored hides.

  “Soliphages!” shouted Adalar.

  The ladders slammed against the battlements, and the soliphages leapt onto the ramparts and started killing.

  Everything exploded into motion at once.

  Volleys of arrows ripped from the walls, plunging into the mobs of Skuldari warriors racing towards the ladders. Men fought and screamed and died as the soliphages attacked, forming open spaces that the Skuldari warriors could claim.

  The nearest soliphage struck, killing one of Mazael’s armsmen. Adalar whipped his greatsword around in a massive two-handed swing. The soliphage started to turn to face him, and his heavy blade sank halfway into the soliphage’s neck. The creature thrashed in pain, and three of the armsmen drove their spears into its torso. Adalar tore his sword free and shoved, and the dying soliphage tumbled over the battlements, knocking a pair of Skuldari warriors from the ladder.

  “The ladder!” said Adalar. “Quickly!” They rushed forward and sent the ladder falling backwards.

  A cheer went up from his men, but only from his men. Adalar whirled and saw fighting raging up and down the ramparts. The soliphages were brutally effective fighters, and their prowess had seized enough space to allow the Skuldari to scramble up. Three more of the soliphages had been killed, but the others were holding. The longer they held, the more Skuldari could get upon the ramparts…

  “Attack!” said Adalar. “After me!”

  He raced down the rampart, joining the fight against the other soliphages. Arrows hissed from the gate as Sigaldra commanded the archers to fire. Flames flashed and roared from the rampart, and a cone of fire swept across one of the ladders, setting both it and the Skuldari warriors upon it ablaze. Timothy had abandoned his restraint and thrown his powers into the fray. Adalar hoped the Prophetess did not respond with her magic.

  It hardly seemed necessary.

  Her forces were already winning.

  Adalar drove his greatsword through the chest of another soliphage, sending the creature collapsing to the rampart. They had killed a half-dozen soliphages and thrown down as many ladders, but Skuldari warriors were swarming onto the wall. Already they had established several beachheads, and more warriors were climbing up. In a matter of moments they would drive the defenders back.

  Then Adalar heard the screaming from the village.

  ###

  Sigaldra’s fingers ached and her shoulders throbbed, yet she ignored the pain, releasing arrow after arrow.

  She had no shortage of targets.

  Skuldari warriors swarmed the ramparts, and she drew and released, picking targets at random. Around her the other archers loosed in all directions. Fire flashed as Timothy unleashed his magic into the battle, turning Skuldari into living torches.

  It was not enough.

  “We must go!” said Talchar, droplets of blood flying from his broadsword. He cut down a Skuldari warrior. “We cannot hold! We must fall back to the keep.”

  Sigaldra hesitated. He was right. The ramparts were on the verge of falling. If the Skuldari swept away the defense, Earnachar could carry out his promise and kill everyone in the village. At least if they withdrew they could retreat in good order, keeping some semblance of defense.

  Though she doubted they would last out the night.

  “Very well,” said Sigaldra. “Sound…”

  Screams rose from below.

  Sigaldra turned and saw valgasts racing through the street.

  A dozen of the spindly, yellowish-green creatures ran towards the gate. A surge of panic went through Sigaldra. There were no guards on the gate. Everyone capable of holding a weapon was already on the walls.

  The valgasts could open the gate, and if they did, the battle was over.

  “Stop them!” said Sigaldra. She shot one of the valgasts, and then a second. The other archers loosed, and two more valgasts fell.

  But the rest reached the gate, and Sigaldra saw more valgasts running through the village, battling Arnulf’s thains. Beneath her boots the ramparts shuddered as the valgasts threw aside the bar and opened the reinforced gates.

  A cheer went up from the horsethains and the spider riders, and they charged for the gate.

  Sigaldra snarled and loosed shaft after shaft, but it was pointless.

  The battle was over, an
d this was the final day of the Jutai nation.

  Chapter 18: Charge

  “Halt,” said Mazael, reining up.

  Around him the horsemen came to a stop. Romaria, Molly, and Riothamus stopped, and the knights and mounted armsmen, five hundred strong, brought their mounts to a halt. The sun set to the west in a fiery blaze, throwing shadows long and black across the plain. They had passed the ruins of barns and silos as they entered the lands held by Greatheart Keep. The Skuldari and Earnachar’s men had swept the countryside clean. Unless Mazael missed his guess, the Skuldari were assembling siege engines or other equipment from the scavenged timbers.

  “What are we waiting for?” said Molly. She waved a hand to the west. There was smoke on the horizon, quite a lot of smoke. The only thing nearby that could have produced that much smoke was Greatheart Keep. “I think the village is about to fall. If it hasn’t fallen already.”

  Mazael pointed at the sky, and Molly tilted her head back.

  “Ah,” she said. “However did you scout before you had skythains, Father?”

  “There was more guessing involved,” said Mazael, and the griffin spiraled out of the sky and landed before him. The great beast had the body and limbs of an enormous lion, and the head and vast wings of a giant eagle. A young skythain, a whip-thin Tervingi youth of about twenty, sat in the griffin’s saddle, calming his mount.

  “What news, Rilaric son of Rilago?” said Mazael.

  “Ill news, hrould,” said Rilaric. “I fear the village is about to fall. Nearly two thousand of the blue-painted warriors assail their walls, and there are valgasts in their streets.”

  “Were you seen?” said Mazael.

  “I do not believe so,” said Rilaric. He patted his mount’s neck. “The folk were focused upon their battle. Someone might have glanced skyward, though…but the battle shall occupy them for some time.”

  “They’re about to have more problems,” said Mazael. “Head north and find the mammoths. They should be in position by now. Tell them to proceed immediately.”