Finally, they stepped into the throne room, and Phynis let out another gasp. The walls were pierced by stained glass windows, many of them simple patterns, but some of which were adorned with stylized elves, one of whom had pink hair like herself. Atop a dais was a white marble throne, a crimson cushion forming the seat, upon which sat a delicate-looking mithral tiara, holding a large ruby that would sit on the forehead. Taking the tiara, Sistina turned and gestured for Phynis to approach.
“Sistina? What are you doing?” Phynis asked, though she was fairly certain what the answer was.
Sistina didn’t answer, instead gently placing the tiara on Phynis’ head and giving her a gentle, deep kiss. Phynis relaxed slightly into the warm kiss, hugging the dryad as she felt the cool weight of the tiara on her head. At last, the dryad broke the kiss and spoke gently and gravely, her sentence obviously rehearsed and longer than any she’d said before. “Phynis Constella, I crown thee Queen of Beacon, capital of Everium. Long may you reign.”
Desa gasped, and Phynis felt something powerful descend on her. A strange wisdom and power that she’d never felt before. It took her a moment to speak, before she finally asked, “Why? Why me, not you? Why for me?”
“You born to rule,” Sistina spoke softly, flushing as she looked down. “I am immortal. Immortals should not rule. You wise. You understand others. I am unsuited. I am dungeon. I am stronghold, protector. Sina told slaves. Come here for freedom. You agree?”
“I… yes, of course I agree with that, but this came from nowhere, Sistina! How are we supposed to protect a city of this size? Even with all the priestesses, there aren’t even a hundred of us!” Phynis protested, gesturing around her as she set aside the question of rulership, shocked, flattered and afraid all at once. “I just don’t know what to do! Kelvanis won’t stand for us to be here, Sistina!”
“They won’t. I built army,” Sistina replied softly, smiling as she added, very quietly, “Your army. I support, you rule?”
“Maybe, but—” Phynis began, only to have Desa clear her throat.
“Phynis, she did this for you. So you could rule, like you always planned to do,” Desa spoke softly, and fell to a knee. “And since that is the case… Your Majesty, I ask to enter your service once more. Just yours, with no other bonds to bind me.”
“I…” Phynis’ voice faded as one by one, her other guards, and then the priestesses fell to a knee before her. It took her a long moment, but eventually she took a breath and nodded. “I accept your request, Desa. Everyone, rise. We’ll figure out what to do later, once I have a chance to absorb this.”
Turning back to Sistina, she scowled at her, even as warmth pervaded her at the dryad’s actions. Reaching out, she added, “Now, if I’m going to do this, you need to tell me exactly what you built for me, Sistina.”
Sistina smiled almost shyly, nodding as she giggled, then murmured, “Yes.”
Phynis couldn’t help but laugh at the familiar response.
Chapter 52
“If there are any attacks or I’m not back in half an hour, get somewhere safe,” Evansly ordered, strapping on his last bracer. He looked seriously at Isana and asked, “Are you clear on that?”
“Of course, Aric. If there’s an attack from the new city or dungeon, or if you aren’t back in half an hour, we’re to go somewhere safe, like in the direction of Westgate,” Isana replied, nodding as she looked at him, her hands folded in front of her.
“Good. I love you, darling, and I don’t want to lose you,” Evansly replied, securing the bracer and leaning over to give her a quick kiss. “This entire situation is a mess. First I hear about a raiding force from Sifaren in the region, then this.”
“You’d best go deal with it, then. Good luck, Aric,” Isana replied.
“Thanks, my love.” Evansly grinned, then left the room. Isana waited for a moment for the sound of the front door, and when it closed, she let her smile broaden.
Turning to Sora, she asked quickly, “You said that a gate formed on the southern side of the mountain as well, yes?”
“Yes. I saw the gatehouses form last night, and there was clearly one on the southern side,” Sora confirmed, a smile on her own face. “I also note that Lord Evansly didn’t direct us to wait for him, Milady.”
“No, he didn’t,” Isana replied, nodding as she smiled tightly. “Is everyone ready to go?”
“We only needed to leave a handful of items unpacked to preserve the illusion that everything is normal, Milady. Preparations should be ready in only a few minutes,” her maid confirmed.
“In that case, let’s do as Aric said. We’ll go somewhere safe. Safe from him,” Isana spoke in an icy tone, her eyes hardening. “All we have to do is hope we aren’t making the wrong decision.”
“I’ve been whispering prayers to Tianna all night, Milady,” Sora admitted, which prompted a rare laugh from Isana.
“Entirely fair. Let’s go, before anyone figures out what’s happening,” Isana told her maid and friend.
The two quickly found the bags that Sora had put together for Isana and headed downstairs to meet the others as they prepared to slip out the side of the building heading away from the front gate of the new city.
“No, Evansly, I’ve never heard of any dungeons turning a mountain into a city before,” Albert replied impatiently, taking a deep breath to try and control his temper. Despite having managed to save three quarters of the artifacts he’d built, he was in a foul mood, and for more reasons than one. After a moment, he continued, “That wasn’t something that a dungeon could do, anyway.”
“What do you mean?” Evansly asked, gesturing at the massive gates looming fifty feet above them, up a ramp that wound back and forth over more than a hundred and fifty feet to the gate. “It just did it!”
They were gathered in the town square, which now looked more like the entry plaza leading up to the massive fortress city that had replaced the mountain. Albert was absolutely stunned at the sight, and for a great many reasons. The most disturbing of which were the enchantments he’d seen carved into the walls. The two companies of soldiers that Captain Marath commanded were gathered in the square, guarding the road warily, and with more than a little fear among their ranks.
“Because that was high magic. No one has been able to perform high magic since the Godsrage, and no one’s entirely certain why,” Evansly tried to explain to the mayor, gritting his teeth. “Only a group of accomplished mages could cast such rituals even in those days. Not a dungeon. Besides, we’ve seen people on the walls.”
“But isn’t that just a really big version of the spell you used to build your guild house? What makes it high magic?” the mayor asked, trying to fathom what Albert was trying to tell him.
“That doesn’t even begin to describe what happened, Aric. The spell didn’t just raise a city from nothing. It reshaped a damned mountain that was five miles across! It built enchantments into the walls, removed all the trees, and everything else!” Albert snapped, gesturing at the walls. “With all our skill, it took decades to create the spells to build a guild house, and that isn’t even in a single spell. In the space of a single night, they did hundreds of times that amount, building a damned mountain complete with fountains, gates, and enchantments, none of which we managed! The amount of mana it would consume boggles the mind, as do the types of mages who’d be able to perform the ritual. So, stop asking me if it was the dungeon, Aric! It might have helped, but I have no clue how it was actually done, save that it was a high magic ritual.”
“Shit. Captain Marath!” Evansly called out, and the dark-haired, humorless woman approached. Albert had only interacted with Marath a few times during the winter, but apparently she’d nearly been crippled in a rockslide passing the dungeon the previous spring, which had killed much of her already threadbare sense of humor. He honestly didn’t like her much, but she seemed competent. When she came close, Evansly asked, “What can you report?”
Marath eyed Albert coldly for a moment befo
re speaking. “Only two or three human-sized figures have been seen on the walls, Lord Mayor, otherwise the city seems still. The angled stone base seems designed to be difficult to climb by foot, but also so that it is almost impossible to get a siege tower near enough the wall to function. Without approaching, we can’t tell you anything more.”
“I see. Well, in that case, get a volunteer to go hail the gates. I want to see who the people inside are,” Evansly ordered.
“It will be done, Lord Mayor,” Marath acknowledged, saluting before turning back to her soldiers.
Shaking his head, Albert spoke bluntly. “I’m going back to the guild house. We need to figure out what to do about the apparent disappearance of the dungeon.”
“I’ll let you know what I find out,” Evansly promised, turning to his approaching dwarven friend. Albert thought the man was named Graystone or some such. He’d never heard the dwarf’s first name. “Hello, Master Graystone. What do you make of this?”
“I think it’s damned unfair to build a beautiful city like that after we spent so much work on the town,” the dwarf replied bluntly, prompting a chuckle from Albert as he walked away. Dwarves.
“That’s just beautiful,” Darak spoke in admiration, staring at the city from near the top of the guild house.
“So you’ve said, Darak. I know, you like good stonework. I’m more concerned about what happened to the dungeon,” Penelope replied, looking down at the gathering at the base of the approach ramp. “Oh, look! They’re sending some poor sod to investigate. Anyone want to bet he runs into a trap?”
“Pfft. The entire ramp’s a defense, Penelope.” Darak laughed, grinning as he pointed at the gatehouse. “If you look close, you can see spouts on the gatehouse. The ramp’s got solid siding, and is perfect for turning into an instant canal. Good luck getting a battering ram up that road.”
“Huh. I was expecting something subtler,” Penelope mused, then paused. “Joe? What’re you doing over there?”
Joseph was standing near the window to the south, which surprised her. It didn’t have nearly as good of a view. The cleric blinked and looked back over, then shook his head. “Oh, nothing much. Just watching the slaves in town sneaking off south, and debating what to do. I don’t think I want to let the mayor know, to be honest. Kelvanis kind of pisses me off with their method of slavery. I don’t object to less brutal versions of slavery, but magically enforcing it for life? That rubs me the wrong way.”
“They’re running away? Where to?” Penelope asked, quickly walking over to the window he was looking out. She spotted a large number of men and women skulking into the trees as they circled south. From the number of tracks, a lot of them had left so far, and she blinked in surprise. “That’s a lot of them. I wonder why now?”
“They probably are circling around to the south of the city. I’m not sure why, but Daniel was looking kind of suspicious yesterday, so I think he may know. He does have a former slave as a girlfriend inside the dungeon, so if anyone knew this was coming, it’d be him,” Joseph replied, taking a deep breath to continue when Nirath cracked an eyelid from where she was lying in bed and interrupted.
“Either all of you shut up and let me sleep, or get out,” the mage informed them quietly, her voice cross. “I had a long night, and if you keep me up any longer, I’m going to light you all on fire.”
They wisely shut up at Nirath’s threat, and the elf rolled over to go back to sleep.
“Took them long enough. An hour of sitting around, and they’re finally sending some poor idiot to hail us,” Desa griped, and Evrial giggled softly.
“Too cold out here for your taste, Captain?” Evrial teased, smiling slightly. “I certainly didn’t like coming from the nice warmth of the caves to this.”
Desa shivered at the reminder. Even with a thick coat, gloves, and cap, the cold wind bit right through to her. She was an ice mage, which meant she was used to cold, but this was ridiculous. After a moment, she replied grudgingly. “Possibly. But it’s also that they’re just being so slow.”
“With any luck, it’ll help the slaves escape,” Evrial offered, shrugging. They’d seen the slaves circling to the south, and Alissa and Lisa had circled around to let them in the gate and get them all situated. It didn’t really matter if an infiltrator managed to make it in, since Sistina had told them all about the defenses she’d built for Beacon.
“True, but let’s wait and see what these people have to say,” Desa murmured, falling silent as the messenger slowly made his way up the path. He was hesitant, obviously not entirely happy about his task. Finally he got close, and held his helm on as he looked up and called out to them.
“Hail the gate!” the man yelled.
“What do you want?” Desa called out, leaning over the parapets.
“In the name of the Kingdom of Kelvanis, open the gates and surrender the city! You are within the borders of our kingdom, therefore the city is forfeit,” the man called out nervously.
“Your demand is refused. By order of Queen Phynis Constella, Beacon is closed to all forces of Kelvanis,” Desa replied, barely able to suppress an incredulous look at the arrogance of the statement. “Furthermore, all lands within ten miles are claimed in the name of Everium. All forces of Kelvanis are to depart by sundown or face her wrath.”
As the man gawked, Evrial grinned, murmuring, “I wonder how they’ll react to that demand?”
“They said what? How dare those arrogant, stuck up bitches say something like that to us, in our own territory!” Evansly growled, glaring up at the city wall. “What can we do about them, Captain?”
Marath considered him a moment, her own thoughts cold. She didn’t like elves, and despite Evansly having joined Kelvanis, he wasn’t much better than they were, in her eyes. But still, he had a valid point, though she felt significantly more cautious than he did.
“Arrogant they may be, but we have virtually no siege weapons, Lord Mayor. The biggest weapon we have is the light ballista in the guard tower, and it would do nothing to the walls or gate. We only have four ladders that are tall enough to allow us to scale the walls, and they are meant for construction rather than sieges, and they would only have proper footing in front of the gate. If there are even a dozen opponents, I fear we have little chance of taking the gate with our current equipment, sir,” Marath told him politely, looking at the city and frowning. “If we had proper siege equipment it would be quite different, but the city was obviously built for defense. The glimpses of the layout that I caught last night indicate it would be difficult to take if fully defended.”
“There’s no way in the hells they’ve got enough people to fully defend a city of that size!” the mayor replied, shaking his head as he scowled. “We’ve kept too close of an eye on the mountain for that many of them to have gotten through. What if we showered them with arrows a few times to drive them back?”
“It could work. Would you like me to fire off a few volleys as a start?” Marath asked, somewhat impressed that Evansly was even thinking of attacking still. She honestly wasn’t sure whether it would work, and she wasn’t going to throw her soldiers away against an unassailable fortress. The angle would be horrible, but it was at least possible.
“Do it. Have some soldiers grab the ladders, just to be safe,” Evansly added.
Nodding her acknowledgement, Marath turned to carry out his orders. Organizing a group of archers, she waited for them to get fully ready, while another group went in search of the ladders.
When the soldiers were ready, she raised her hand, letting them all nock their arrows and aim, waiting a long moment before dropping her hand and calling out, “Loose!”
As the hail of arrows hissed through the air, Marath smiled as she saw a figure take cover behind the ramparts. A moment later, her smile vanished as the arrows hit a barrier. A crimson barrier flashed into existence in front of the arrows, just over the wall, and each and every one of the arrows bounced off of it before it vanished.
“Damnati
on,” Marath hissed, and glanced at Evansly, whose jaw was clenched in obvious anger.
It was then that one of the soldiers she’d sent for the ladders rushed back, panting. “Captain, we’ve got a problem!”
“And what, pray tell, might that be?” she asked, turning to him and glaring. He almost wilted in place, swallowing hard.
“It’s the slaves. They’ve all slipped out of town!” he told her quickly. “They must have all left while we were busy here!”
“Hellfire and brimstone, then put some scouts after them, and someone with a command sigil!” Marath replied, growling, “There’s nowhere they can go but the city, so cut them off!”
“Yes, ma’am!” the man saluted, and dashed off to his unit.
Evansly turned and asked, paling slightly, “What was that about the slaves?”
“Are all of you slaves? Good, go that way toward the center of town and up the ramp. We want you well out of earshot before anyone catches up,” Alissa ordered, pointing out directions to the men and women coming through the gates. About half of them were humans, but one man stopped near her, the human fidgeting.
“Ah, I’m not a slave, but I wanted to get out of Kelvanis. What about me?” he asked, looking nervously at her as he clutched a knit cap in his hands.
“As long as you don’t cause trouble, Her Majesty doesn’t care,” Alissa told him, considering a moment before continuing, “Just go along with the others for now. I’m not sure how they want to handle this just yet.”
“Alright, thank you, ma’am,” the man replied, putting his hat back on and hurrying to catch up with the others.
A good number of former slaves were entering, and one of them paused as well. She had the bearing of a noble, and Alissa’s eyebrows rose as she spoke with a distinct upper-class accent from Sifaren. “Pardon me, but may I ask how you intend to free us from Kelvanis’ control?”
“You may. I don’t know all of it, but we can’t break the brands. Oh, there’s a chance that we could in the future, but the only other option is to overpower the brands and key it to the dungeon,” Alissa quickly explained. “You can stay in the city without that being done, but if anyone with a command sigil got close, you’d be controlled. The dungeon hasn’t given any orders to those it’s keyed to date, save not to try to harm the dungeon or fellow inhabitants.”
Spells of Old (Ancient Dreams Book 2) Page 36
