Frostborn: Excalibur (Frostborn #13)

by Jonathan Moeller

  But as they drew closer, Gavin saw the signs of war.

  A massive wall of white stone encircled Tarlion, dotted with octagonal towers and bastions. Still another wall encircled the city, an earthwork wall with watch towers armored in dvargirish steel. A second wall surrounded the first earthwork wall, a little lower than the first, and several hundred yards away, still another wall encircled the first two walls and the entirety of the city. Gavin marveled at the amount of raw labor it must have taken to dig and pile all three walls.

  “This siege has been going on for some time,” said Kharlacht.

  “Circumvallation?” said Gavin, recalling the strange word. “That is what it is called? A circumvallation wall?”

  “Aye,” said Ridmark. “Tarrabus built one around Tarlion to starve out the city. The Romans used the tactic often upon Old Earth. When Arandar arrived, Tarrabus constructed a contravallation wall to keep him away from his army and his siege wall. So Arandar built a siege wall of his own around Tarrabus’s army and both of his walls.”

  “That sounds complicated,” said Gavin.

  “It is,” said Caius. “The armies of Prince Arandar and Tarrabus are like two swordsmen of equal strength circling each other, seeking any advantage. The walls are just the initial feints and thrusts. The main blow has yet to come.”

  “It seems an odd way to fight a battle,” said Gavin. “Digging ditches and piling up earthen walls, I mean.”

  “Strange but effective,” said Caius. “We dwarves build fortifications in the field often. As the lord magister said, this tactic has precedent in the history of your kindred. When Julius Caesar of the Romans besieged Vercingetorix of the Gauls in his fortress of Alesia, he built a siege wall around Alesia. When the Gauls came to rescue their warlord, Caesar built a second wall around both his army and the first wall. That kept the Gauls at bay and allowed the Romans to fend off their attacks until Vercingetorix was forced to surrender.”

  Gavin frowned, thinking it through. “So Tarrabus is copying the tactics of Caesar?”

  “More or less,” said Caius.

  “I don’t know very much about the history of Old Earth,” said Gavin, “but didn’t Caesar win that battle?”

  Silence answered him for a moment.

  “He did,” said Ridmark, “but the situations are not identical. Vercingetorix surrendered. Sir Corbanic is in command of Tarlion, and he will not surrender to Tarrabus for any reason. The Gauls didn’t build a wall around Caesar’s walls, but Arandar did. Tarrabus might be besieging Tarlion, but Arandar is besieging him now.” He glanced at Calliande. “And neither Caesar nor the Gauls had the aid of the Keeper of Andomhaim.”

  Calliande offered a brief smile. “If the history is accurate, the Keepers fought against Caesar and the Romans at first. That was why Caesar’s invasion of Britannia was defeated, and the Romans did not conquer the island for another ninety years.”

  “Then if Tarrabus think of himself as a new Caesar,” said Ridmark, “let us hope you thwart his plans just as your predecessors did.”

  Boots thumped against the deck, and Gavin turned Sir Tormark, Sir Tagrimn, and Otto approached.

  “We will be arriving soon, Keeper,” said Tormark. “I suspect you should see Prince Arandar as soon as possible.”

  “That would be wise,” said Calliande.

  “We’ll have to put ashore here,” said Otto. “If we get too close to the siege walls, one of the usurper’s siege engines might try to take a shot at us.” He spat over the rail and into the river. “That, and the usurper has a band of warships guarding the city’s harbor. If we get too close, the current will pull us past the harbor, and the ships can sink us at their leisure.”

  “A little walk never hurt anyone,” said Calliande.

  “Especially if it keeps the barge from sinking,” said Ridmark.

  Otto offered a bow that came just short of exaggeration. “The noble Keeper and the glorious lord magister are wise. Especially since I would have to charge Sir Joram extra for a sunken barge.” Tormark sighed.

  The barge steered towards a set of wooden quays jutting into the river. Beyond the quays, Gavin saw a well-ordered camp, with tents and pavilions standing in rows and men-at-arms in the green tabards of the House of the Licinii standing guard. Already some of Otto’s flotilla of barges had docked and were unloading their supplies. Beyond the camp, Gavin saw an earthwork wall topped with a crude rampart and breastwork. Further along the wall stood other camps flying the banners of the various lords and orcish kingdoms who had sided with Arandar after Dun Calpurnia.

  At last, their barge docked, and Otto’s men tossed mooring lines to the quay.

  “We had better find Prince Arandar at once,” said Ridmark.

  ###

  The planks of the quay thumped beneath Ridmark’s boots as he led the way. Caius and Calliande walked at his side, while Antenora and Gavin remained behind the Keeper, watchful for danger as ever. Kharlacht, Camorak, and Third brought up the back, and Third looked around with a distant expression. Ridmark realized that this was likely the largest gathering of humans she had seen in centuries. Even after she had regained her humanity and freed herself from the Traveler’s malign influence, she had spent most of her time around the Anathgrimm, and the Anathgrimm orcs were nothing like humans.

  “Are you all right?” said Ridmark.

  Third blinked, and then offered a brief smile. “I was lost in memory. I last visited Tarlion a very long time ago, centuries before Ardrhythain had even founded the Two Orders. I flew over the city and beheld it from on high to report back to my father. My mind, as it was then, is now alien to me, but I still remember I thought the city seemed beautiful.” She blinked and her usual calm mask returned. “Like Sir Gavin, I look forward to seeing the city firsthand.”

  “Then let’s see if we can get you inside,” said Ridmark. He realized that Third’s special abilities might prove useful in lifting Tarrabus’s siege. “Once we go through a few thousand soldiers, of course.”

  Tormark and Tagrimn and some of their men-at-arms joined them, and together they headed into the Licinii camp. A murmur started rose from the sentries as they approached. Ridmark frowned, and then realized the reason for the commotion.

  The Keeper of Andomhaim had returned. She had fought alongside those men-at-arms at Dun Calpurnia, and during a year of campaigning across Caerdracon to the gates of Castra Carhaine. After seeing her magic, after seeing what she could do, the return of Calliande to Arandar’s host would prove a great boon for morale. Ridmark wished they could have kept her return secret. It was always possible that Tarrabus had spies among the loyalists, but he supposed Tarrabus would learn of Calliande’s return soon enough.

  “Sir Tagrimn, Sir Tormark,” said one of the men-at-arms. “Is that the Keeper with you?”

  “It is,” said Tormark.

  “God be praised!” said the man-at-arms. “Perhaps she can deal with the dragon.”

  Ridmark frowned. Dragon?

  “What dragon, man?” said Tagrimn.

  “The usurper’s dragon, Sir Tagrimn,” said the man-at-arms. “It flew from his lines yesterday and slew some of our men with its fire. It hasn’t returned since, but the whole camp is on edge waiting for its return.”

  “Then we had better get the Keeper to the Prince Regent as soon as possible, hadn’t we?” said Tagrimn. “Do you know where he is?”

  “I don’t, sir,” said the man-at-arms. “But Sir Joram and Dux Gareth are in the Dux’s pavilion. They will know where to find the Prince.”

  “Thank you,” said Calliande.

  “Is help coming, then?” said the man-at-arms, excitement flashing over his face. “Will the dwarves and the manetaurs help us?” He looked as if he expected armies of manetaurs and dwarves to fall upon Tarrabus’s army at that moment.

  “After we defeat Tarrabus and march upon the Frostborn,” said Calliande, “we will not march alone. Sir Tormark?”

  “This way, my lady,” said Tormark, a
nd he led the way through the camp towards the pavilion at the center, the green banner of the Licinii flying over it.

  They strode past the tents, and Ridmark saw the stares and heard the murmurs as they passed. Calliande had turned into the Keeper, her expression aloof and calm, and it only made sense that the army would be heartened by her return. To Ridmark’s surprise and amusement, some of the stares and murmurs were directed his way. He supposed that made sense as well, much to his annoyance. He remembered what Gavin had tried to say on the quays facing Castra Arban, how the legend of the Gray Knight had grown up around a man of flesh and blood. He had warned of the return of the Frostborn and the treachery of Tarrabus Carhaine, and both warnings had been proven true. He had killed Tymandain Shadowbearer and Mournacht of Kothluusk, and if he had not brought the Anathgrimm to the battle of Dun Calpurnia, then likely every man in Arandar’s army would have perished at the hands of the Frostborn.

  That was the legend of the Gray Knight.

  Ridmark only wished he was worthy of it. If he had been, then Morigna would still be alive, and the Frostborn would never have returned. Or Aelia would still be alive, and none of this would ever have happened.

  He looked at Calliande and remembered how she had lamented to him that she had gone into the long sleep to stop the return of the Frostborn, but the Frostborn had returned despite her sacrifices.

  Yes, she understood regret as he understood it.

  They reached the pavilion and strode inside. A table stood in the center of the pavilion, its surface seeming to sag beneath the weight of ledgers and bills of sale. Sir Joram Agramore sat at the table, scowling at the ledgers as if they had offered him insult. When Ridmark had last seen him at Dun Calpurnia, he had been plump, but after a year in the field, he was almost thin. The loss of weight did not suit him, and his face seemed to sag with weariness. Dux Gareth Licinius stood before the table, and unlike the younger man, he had not changed. He still put Ridmark in mind of an old oak tree, weathered and battered but strong enough to withstand a storm. Wrinkles creased his olive-colored skin, and his hair had turned iron-gray, but he wore his plate armor without the slightest trace of weariness. Here was a lord who had seen a hundred battles, and whose men had followed him willingly into those battles.

  Surprise went over Gareth’s stern face, and Joram shot to his feet, his green eyes widening.

  “My lady Keeper!” said Joram. “God and the saints! You’ve returned.”

  Tormark laughed. “Guess who we found while returning with supplies.”

  “And Lord Ridmark,” said Gareth, just as surprised.

  “Aye,” said Tagrimn. “The dvargir and their pet kobolds had us over a barrel, and then the Gray Knight and the Keeper showed up at the last minute to save our hides.”

  “They have a knack for it,” said Gareth. “My lady Keeper, your return is the best news we have had in weeks. We have brought Tarrabus to bay below the walls of Tarlion, but the wolf still has fangs and claws, and we have sore need of your skill. Was your mission successful? We have heard rumors, but nothing of substance.”

  “It was, my lord Dux,” said Calliande. “Red King Turcontar of the Range and King Axazamar of Khald Tormen are marching to the Northerland. They will not help us against Tarrabus, but once we have dealt with him, Andomhaim, the Range, the Three Kingdoms, and Nightmane Forest will stand united against the power of the Frostborn.”

  “God be praised,” said Joram.

  “We have made as much haste as we are able,” said Gareth, “knowing the threat in the Northerland. To hear that allies will march to our side once we have reunified the realm is a great boon indeed.”

  “But first we must reunify the realm,” said Ridmark. “Lord Gareth. The men spoke of a dragon.”

  Gareth and Joram glanced at each other.

  “Aye,” said Joram. “But I don’t know what to make of the matter, and neither do the Magistri.”

  “It happened last night,” said Gareth. “A great black dragon rose from within Tarrabus’s walls. Our sentries reported that there had been some kind of dark spell cast within the walls, for they had seen strange lights and heard peculiar noises. Soon after that, the dragon appeared.”

  “It must have been a wyvern,” said Calliande. “Dragons have been extinct since before the high elves came to dominance, long before any humans ever set foot here. I saw their bones in Dragonfall, gathered there by the high elves lest someone try to abuse their power.”

  “Wyverns do not breathe fire,” said Joram, “yet this…creature, whatever it is, flew over our siege wall and burned three men upon the ramparts. I saw their corpses with my own eyes. The creature flew away to the north and has not been seen since.”

  Calliande frowned. “It attacked no one else?”

  “Not that we know,” said Gareth. “We feared it was the herald of an attack, that Tarrabus might fling his entire strength against our wall. But the dragon did not return, and his men have not issued forth from their contravallation wall.”

  “Perhaps Tarrabus and the Enlightened tried to summon the creature and lost control of it,” said Caius. “We have often seen that the Enlightened do not have complete control of their powers, and occasionally twist themselves into monsters.”

  “Then you think one of the Enlightened accidentally turned himself into a dragon, went insane, and flew off?” said Joram.

  Caius shrugged. “Stranger things have happened.”

  “After the last two years, I cannot argue,” said Joram.

  “Third,” said Ridmark. “Did the Traveler ever speak of dragons?”

  “Third?” said Joram. “Third of what?” Third smiled a little at that.

  “Pardons,” said Calliande. “Dux Gareth, Sir Joram, this is Third, the half-sister of Queen Mara of Nightmane Forest. Like Queen Mara, she has freed herself from the dark influence of her father, and she has been an invaluable help.”

  Third offered a bow to the Dux, and Gareth and Joram bowed in turn.

  “Princess Third,” said Gareth. “It is an honor to have you among us.”

  “Princess?” said Third. “People keep calling me that, and I am still not used to it.”

  Joram smiled. “When one’s half-sister is a Queen, I’m afraid that is inevitable.”

  “Lady Third, then?” said Gareth.

  “As you wish,” said Third. “But to return to the problem at hand. The Traveler only rarely spoke of dragons. When he did, he seemed certain that all the dragons had died off many millennia ago, before even he was born.” She paused, a frown coming over her features. “Unless…”

  “Unless what, my lady?” said Joram.

  “The dragon creature,” said Third. “Did it change shape at all?”

  “I do not believe so,” said Gareth.

  “Do you think it was a malophage?” said Calliande, shuddering a little. Their previous encounters with malophages had not been pleasant. “A malophage could change shape at will.”

  “It could,” said Third, “but I have never heard of or seen a malophage taking the form of a dragon. No. Let me think on this further. My memories reach back centuries, and sometimes it is difficult to put them in order.”

  “You have my complete understanding,” said Antenora.

  “If the creature returns, whatever it is, we will fight it,” said Calliande. “Of old, the Keepers and the Swordbearers and the Magistri worked together to fight the urdmordar and dark elven lords. We shall simply follow their noble example. My lord Dux, if you would, I would like to speak with Prince Regent Arandar as soon as possible. We have plans to make, and we must act quickly.”

  “Agreed,” said Gareth. “Sir Joram, you had best come with us. Likely the Prince will wish to gather a council of war to hear the Keeper’s news and prepare a new plan against Tarrabus. The Prince usually makes a circuit of our siege camps at this time of day, and he ought to be at the camp of the House of the Aurelii by now. Keeper, if you will permit me to show the way?”

  ###


  Gareth provided them with horses, and Calliande and the others mounted and followed the Dux and Sir Joram from the Licinii camp, riding along the siege wall. It was an astonishing feat of engineering, and Calliande marveled at the amount of labor it must have taken to build. She could imagine the tension of the first days of the siege as both armies scrambled to finish their defensive walls, bracing themselves for an attack upon their half-finished fortifications.

  “Like the account of Nehemiah in the scriptures,” said Caius, guessing her thoughts. “The builders must have toiled with their swords in one hand.”

  “That they did, Brother Caius,” said Joram. “I organized the effort. The Prince appointed me the quartermaster of the host ere we left Castra Carhaine, much to my lasting chagrin. It has been an endless succession of problems, grievances, and petty complaints. And the merchants! I never knew there was such dishonesty in the world. I have to deal with a score of scheming rogues like your friend Smiling Otto every day, and he’s one of the more honest of the lot.” He shook his head. “But I digress. It was a chancy business, but when you’ve got tens of thousands of strong backs, you can build an earthwork wall in a mighty hurry.”

  “Then the plan is to starve out Tarrabus?” said Ridmark.

  “More or less,” said Joram. “He’ll never surrender. He’s gone too far for that, and there’s too much blood on his hands. We are well-supplied here, and he hasn’t been able to get any new supplies for weeks. Sooner or later he is going to run out of food, and he’ll do something desperate. When he does, we’ll be ready for him.”

  Calliande listened with half an ear as the Dux and Sir Joram described their strategy. It was important, she knew, and she ought to pay full attention to their discussion.

  Instead, her eyes were drawn to the towers of Tarlion, their tops visible even over the earthwork walls of the siege. One tower drew her attention, a slender octagonal tower of white stone, its top crowned with a copper dome turned green with verdigris. It looked familiar, but Calliande could not recall it, which was absurd. She had spent years in Tarlion, and the tower looked old enough for her to have seen it before, but perhaps it had been constructed in the centuries since…