She sniffed the air and curled her lip. “Well you’re certainly not coming inside smelling like that. Wait here. I’ll see if I can get him to come down.” She turned and slammed the door.
“Well,” said Lee. “At least we know he’s here.”
Millet nodded. “But I don’t recall the Brimm house ever turning away hungry people who came calling. This may have been a wasted trip.”
Ten minutes passed before the door reopened. There stood Jansi in a simple brown robe and a dagger in his right hand.
“Speak your message and be gone,” he demanded.
Millet pushed back his hood. “You should put that dagger away before you cut yourself, my friend.”
Utter astonishment appeared on Jansi’s face. He stepped quickly outside and shut the door behind him. “Have you lost your wits? What are you doing here?”
“At this moment,” replied Millet. “We are standing at your door, very much hoping that you can help us.”
“Is that Lord Starfinder?” he asked.
Lee revealed his face and smiled. “It is indeed.”
Jansi regarded him for a moment, then looked back at Millet. “I gave you more credit than your master for common sense. But it seems I was wrong.”
“He is no longer my master,” corrected Millet. “And I’ll thank you to show me a bit of courtesy.”
Jansi held up his palm. “Forgive me. But you have no idea the risk you are taking by coming here. If you are caught....”
“Soon it won’t matter,” interrupted Millet. “The walls of Baltria are about to fall and Angrääl will be driven out.”
“If you speak of the elves that are on their way here,” Jansi shot back, “then you are mistaken. They will be blasted from the field before they fire the first arrow.”
Millet and Lee gave each other a knowing smile.
“More than just the elves are coming,” said Lee. “Darshan is leading them.”
“Are you sure of this?” Jansi asked incredulously. “Darshan is coming here?”
“I see you have heard the name,” said Lee.
Jansi shrugged. “Everyone has heard the name of Darshan. But no one is sure what to believe.”
“If you allow us to come inside,” said Millet, “and for the love of the gods give us a bath and a change of clothes, we will tell you all that you want to know.”
Jansi thought for a moment. “You must wait here until I can dismiss the kitchen staff. Once they’re gone, I’ll let you in.” He opened the door and ran inside, returning a moment later with a loaf of bread. “This will have to do for now.”
“Thank you,” said Millet, bowing.
Jansi went back inside, smiling at the duo in spite of himself.
Millet and Lee found a spot in the shadows behind a lemon tree where they devoured the bread and settled down to wait. Lee kept a vigilant ear on the comings and goings at the front entrance throughout. Thankfully, no one else came calling.
More than three hours passed before the kitchen staff eventually filed out of the house. Lee’s sharp hearing picked up their chatter. Many of them were remarking how odd it was that they had been told to leave through the front entrance that evening.
Jansi returned a short time later.
“Is Lanson at home?” asked Lee.
“My lord is quite ill,” Jansi replied. “However, he knows that you are here and wants to see you as soon as you’re cleaned and changed.”
Lee’s face tightened at the news. “How ill is he?” But the man’s bleak expression already told him the answer to that.
Jansi ushered them inside and through the kitchen. A stone staircase in the pantry at the far end took them up to the second floor where bedchambers, the library, and Lanson’s personal office were all situated. Lee could hear the remaining maids and cleaning staff downstairs busying about their duties.
Jansi showed them to their separate rooms. Millet and Lee’s eyes lit up when they saw that both of these were equipped with a shower. Clean clothes were in the wardrobes, and to finish things off, Jansi soon returned with a bowl of beef stew and a bottle of wine for each of them.
Once cleaned and dressed, Lee took his meal to Millet’s room. Jansi checked in on them just as they were sitting down at a small table close to a window overlooking the southern garden.
“My lord’s room is down the hall and the last door on the left,” he told them. “Join him there once you’re ready.” He left with a polite nod.
“He seems greatly worried,” said Millet. “I hope that it is only his master’s health that occupies his thoughts.”
“I sense no deception in him,” said Lee. “Only deep concern.”
They hurried through their meal, then followed the directions Jansi had given. The polished double doors they came to were slightly ajar, allowing Lee to push them open just far enough to look inside. The room was dimly lit, with only a single lantern on a table in the far corner.
The spacious chamber appeared warm and welcoming. Lee could see immediately that the dark wood furnishings and plush purple rugs had all been imported from the northern towns near Hazrah. Even the immense four-poster bed was not unlike the one that he himself used to sleep in back home.
Thick cotton blankets covered a small lump on the bed, with only a head peeking out to show that it was indeed Lanson. But this was not the vigorous man Lee had known. His eyes were sunken deep into his skull and surrounded by black circles. The rest of his face was ghostly pale, and his thin, dry lips bore a grayish color.
“Don’t lurk in doorways, Lee Starfinder,” Lanson said. His voice was raspy and his breathing labored.
Lee stepped inside. Millet followed close behind.
“I see you’ve managed to womanize your way into a sickbed,” said Lee, using his best lighthearted tone.
“Naturally,” he replied, a fragile smile forming. “But it took more than half the women in the city to lay me so low.”
Two chairs awaited them beside his bed. Lee took the one nearest to his old friend.
“So you’re still causing trouble, I hear,” said Lanson. “When I received news that the faithful had been slain in Sharpstone, I knew it had to be you.”
“Actually, that was more Millet than me,” Lee told him. “I have turned my lands and titles over to him.”
Lanson managed a loud laugh, but the effort of this brought on a spasm of coughing. “Best thing you could ever have done,” he eventually croaked. “You always were a poor excuse for a noble, Lee. Too idealistic. And too rash.” He looked at Millet. “I hope you’ve finally put him in his proper place, My Lord.” There was no sarcasm when he used the title.
Millet smiled and nodded. “I had done that long before I became a noble.”
Lee leaned in. “Tell me what afflicts you, old friend?”
Lanson shifted, managing to prop his head up. “Oh, nothing that death won’t cure.”
Lee and Millet clearly did not find this amusing. Lanson sighed. “I’m afraid I am a casualty of war. After you left the city, I did what I could to hinder the efforts of the Reborn King. I was actually shocked at how many others I was able to enlist to my cause. Apparently, I had underestimated the worth of the Baltrian nobles. We did our best to disrupt things, but with only limited success. Most of us are now dead. The lesser nobles were executed – their bodies hung from the city walls. Those who had enough influence to avoid the noose began dying one by one of a mysterious illness. I suppose I fall into that category.”
“I should have never talked you into this,” said Lee.
Lanson scowled. “You didn’t talk me into anything. All you did was point out what I already knew in my heart.” He reached over and took hold of Lee’s hand. “I will die with no regrets.” He chuckled, but this brought on another short fit of coughing. “If we win this war, maybe for once in my life I’ll be called brave. For certain they’ll say that Lee Starfinder was brave, but Lord Lanson Brimm…now he was a most courageous fool, if ever there was one.”
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“You’ve always been brave,” said Lee.
Lanson shook his head with the look of a guilty child. “Only when I was drunk, I’m afraid. But enough about me and my decrepit state. Jansi says Darshan is coming. Is this true?”
“It is,” Lee affirmed. “And when he gets here I’ll bring him to you. Perhaps he can heal you of this mystery illness.”
“That would be good,” said Lanson. “But I don’t think I’ll make it long enough for him to arrive.” Lee started to argue, but Lanson held up his hand. “You must listen to me, Lee. The enemy has a weapon. A terrible weapon. It was shown to us shortly after you escaped from here. Three of the faithful who had attempted to flee the city were taken outside the walls. Every noble in Baltria was ordered to bear witness. They tied them to posts and placed a white ball about the size of a man’s head at each one’s feet. All three balls had a long wick that ran into its center. Another of the faithful then lit these wicks, and a few seconds later the deserters’ bodies were blown completely apart.”
He shuddered. “I was a hundred feet away, and the force of the fireballs still knocked me over.”
“What are they made of?” asked Millet.
“I don’t know,” he replied. “They keep that secret, and allow no one near them. But they have hundreds stored away - and catapults to launch them too. If your friends assault the gates they’ll be blown apart.” His eyes closed as he suppressed a cough. “Some nights you can hear them training in the swamp. The whole city shakes. Darshan had better be as powerful as people say, otherwise his entire elf army is doomed.”
“Where do they keep these weapons?” asked Lee.
Lanson chuckled. “I thought you’d ask me that. That’s why I told Jansi to speak to a couple of your friends about scouting the area.”
Lee looked confused for a moment, then it hit him. “Barty and Randson! They’re here?”
“They said they were here to gather information,” he replied. “Though they didn’t tell me it was Millet, not you, who’d sent them.” He gave a lopsided smile. “They have been rather tight lipped. I didn’t trust them at first, but Randson can be quite convincing when he wants to be. Smart lad, too. When this is over I hope that you will find him something more rewarding than a gardener’s position.”
“I will indeed,” said Millet. “When do you expect them back?”
Lanson shrugged. “It shouldn’t take long. The Angrääl soldiers are busy preparing for an assault. They won’t bother with two stragglers wandering about.”
“And what of the city guard?” asked Lee. “I didn’t notice any of them on the way here. Only soldiers.”
“Most been inducted into the army,” said Lanson. “After the faithful wiped out the king and his family there was no one to stop them.”
Millet was shocked. “They killed them all? Then who rules Baltria?”
“Some wretched dog the Reborn King sent from down Angrääl. A man named Lord Ziri.” Lanson spoke the name with contempt. “If I could only live long enough to see him dance on the gallows.”
“You will, my friend,” promised Lee. But he struggled to put any real conviction into his voice. He knew that time was fast running out. The smell of death was thick.
“You never could lie to me, Starfinder” said Lanson. “But still, I thank you. Now stay and talk with me for a while. I miss intelligent company.”
They spoke of good times past until Lanson’s eyes were no longer able to stay open. Millet and Lee were just rising from their chairs when Jansi entered. He looked at his master with a pained expression before speaking.
“Barty and Randson are waiting for you in the parlor,” he whispered.
After leading them through the halls to the opposite end of the house, he showed them into a small room with a fire burning cheerily in the hearth. The walls were lined with paintings of Lanson’s family going back at least ten generations, while the floor was covered with a thick Dantory rug woven into hundreds of undulating swirls of color and form. Lee had admired this rug several times in the past, and even offered to buy it once.
Sitting on a couch in front of the fire were Barty and Randson. As soon as they caught sight of the arrivals they leapt to their feet and ran across the room, embracing them both in turn.
Barty had not changed, but Randson seemed older and more careworn. They were clad in black shirts and trousers, and each carried a dagger on his belt.
“It is good to see you both,” said Millet.
Barty bowed. “We are grateful to see you still alive, My Lord. There were rumors that you and Lee had been killed.”
Millet smiled. “The enemy certainly did try. But now is not the time for tales. We need to know where Angrääl keeps these new weapons that Lord Brimm spoke about.”
Everyone took a seat by the fire.
“They had been keeping them all together in a small building near to the main gate,” Barty began. “But since they heard about the elves coming they’ve spread them around to each catapult along the north and east walls. Mostly on the north. They figure the east approach is too hard for an army of any size, and the west is impossible.”
“How well are they guarded?” asked Lee.
Barty shook his head and sighed. “I’m afraid that each machine is guarded by at least ten men, and there are more than twenty machines in all.”
“With just the four of us,” said Millet, “I don’t see what we can do.”
“We have a few stout lads,” said Barty. “Friends of my son. They’ll help if needed.”
Lee thought for a moment. “How far apart are the catapults on the east wall?”
“Quite a long way,” replied Barty. “Five hundred feet or more. But they are light and easily moved. It only takes one man to use them.”
Lee recalled the catapult he had seen atop the barracks in Angrääl. “That leaves nine men to deal with. Tell me more about the weapon itself.”
“No one knows very much,” said Randson. “I’ve tried to find out, but they’re made in Kratis and then shipped south on the Goodbranch. Whatever they are, they can destroy stone, steel and wood as if they were parchment.”
“If you had one, could you use it?” asked Lee.
Randson thought for a second. “They don’t seem complicated. If they were, I doubt these dolts could use them. As far as I can tell you just need to light the wick. As soon as it burns inside the wrappings – bang - it goes off.”
“I think we’ll need your friends,” said Lee. He stood up. “The elves will be here by midday tomorrow, so we have only until then to prepare.”
Chapter 18
Lee, Randson and Barty, together with the seven men Randson had brought along, lay down in a group atop the roof of a small house near to the east wall. From this vantage point they could see the catapult clearly. It was situated about twenty feet back from the wall’s base - far enough to give plenty of clearance to launch a bolt over the top, yet near enough to ensure that most incoming arrows would fall well behind them.
Just as Randson had reported, ten men surrounded the device. Beside it lay a neat stack of white balls standing four feet high.
The remainder of Randson’s comrades were at the Brimm estate guarding Lanson, as well as a very unhappy Millet. He had argued vehemently that as Lord of the House Nal’Thain it was his duty to do his part. Nothing Lee could say would sway him. It was Randson who stepped in to remind Millet that he had not yet legally named a successor to his lands and titles, and therefore it was his duty to stay alive until he could do so. Lee could hardly contain his laughter as Millet stood speechless in the face of Randson’s irrefutable logic. More than once had Millet told Lee the very same thing during his younger and far more foolhardy days.
By using his half-man senses Lee could easily hear the conversation of the Angrääl soldiers. They were apparently unconcerned about the coming siege; their confidence in the new and deadly weapon at their disposal was absolute. In fact, many times they mentioned how they wished t
hey’d been assigned to the north wall, just so they could see the bodies of the elves being blown to bits. Lee felt his blood boiling at such casual callousness.
He calmed his anger. The sun was now high in the sky. It was time for action.
His original plan was to have had Barty and all the others on the roof fire arrows at the soldiers, then he would charge in at ground level and quickly finish off any survivors. But Randson had come up with a better idea, and produced two stolen Angrääl uniforms that he and Lee were now wearing.
“Are you ready?” Randson whispered.
Lee nodded. The pair of them slipped down to the rear of the house, where they crept to the corner and waited. A patrol came by this spot every twenty minutes and another one was almost due. Right on schedule, three soldiers passed. They gave the catapult crew a half-hearted salute before continuing along the wall.
Once the patrol was out of sight, Lee and Randson moved out from behind the corner. It took a moment for the soldiers guarding the catapult to notice them, and even then they only glanced up casually before continuing with their conversations.
They didn’t look up again until Lee and Randson were only a few feet away. And by then, even if the soldiers had suspected what was about to happen to them, it was far too late.
In unison, Lee and Randson drew their blades. Randson stepped left and Lee to the right, so leaving a clear shot in the center for the others who were now aiming bows from the roof. A series of whizzes and thunks sounded as the missiles found their targets. Those soldiers not hit were quickly cut down before they could make a move or sound the alarm. Lee had to restrain himself from cutting them to pieces. But they needed the uniforms, and too much blood would be hard to hide. Within seconds, all of the soldiers lay dead.
By the time Barty and the others joined them, Lee and Randson were already dragging the bodies into the house. The severely dilapidated property had been abandoned some weeks ago; a stroke of luck, Lee considered. And they would need all the luck they could muster that day if they were to succeed.
While they waited for the signal announcing the arrival of the elf army, the regular patrol passed the catapult they were pretending to guard three more times. On none of these occasions did the soldiers notice that the faces of the crew were now different, or that there were blood stains on most of their uniforms.
The Godling Chronicles:Book 05 - Madness of the Fallen Page 20
