With the coming of the bombardment, Tristan worried about how the other ships were faring. The single-file formation had been his idea. The narrower their profile facing Serena’s consuls, the less damage the ships would incur. But this strategy also made theTammerland the prime target. Faegan commanded the next ship in line. If theTammerland went down, the crippled wizard would lead the charge.
Just then another bolt hit the flagship, this one sending her plummeting out of control. Tristan watched in horror as theTammerland angled downward so steeply this time that all he could see from his window was bloody grass, and the scattered bodies left behind on the battlefield.
Adrian didn’t want to go against Tristan’s orders, but she knew there was no choice. She immediately raised her arms. As she and Wigg strained mightily, Tristan felt theTammerland ’s bow start rising. He held his breath as he wondered whether it would come up in time.
Just as the ship leveled she hit hard and her metal keel plowed a gouge in the earth. As theTammerland skidded dangerously across the bloody grass, Shailiha and some of the acolytes were thrown to the floor. Straining with everything they had, Wigg and Adrian managed to take the violently weaving ship skyward again.
Azure bolts rained down with greater ferocity, and the ship suffered another direct hit, forcing her to rock sickeningly. Tristan heard a mast crash down atop the deck above. Then another mast crashed, this one landing atop the bow area. To his horror, he suddenly smelled smoke. He spun around to see a dark plume drifting down through the damage that had opened up in the deck above, and he knew.
The sizzling azure bolts had set theTammerland afire. But with no warriors stationed topside, little could be done about it. Acrid smoke poured into the room, and everyone started coughing. The acolytes were able to use the craft and rid the room of smoke. But the fires above had already become so intense that there was little the women could do about them.
Coughing violently, Tristan helped Shailiha stand, then looked out the starboard window. So many azure bolts were raining down that they seemed to crowd out the sky, and they thundered into the earth in such numbers that the air was literally filled with smoke, flying dirt, and clumps of sod. Tristan strained his eyes to look at the Recluse. Wigg had them dead on course again, and the blazingTammerland was picking up speed.
Then another bolt hit the flagship, nearly throwing Tristan and Shailiha to the floor. TheTammerland ’s groaning timbers and the fire raging topside made him wonder what was keeping her together. He helped his sister to her feet.
Tristan looked toward the Recluse again. The time had come. He turned toward the waiting acolytes.
“Now!” he shouted. “You must do it now!”
The acolytes immediately called the craft and joined their powers. Raising their arms, they sent azure beams forward to fortify the bow joint where the port and starboard walls met. As the beams saturated the walls and their connecting joint, the black exterior of the ship’s bow started to glow with an icy blue.
Tristan snapped his head around to look out the starboard window again. As the ship closed on the Recluse, he nodded to Tyranny. She quickly gazed over Wigg’s shoulder to help him stay on course while the wizard strained to give the vessel every last bit of speed.
“Come five degrees to port!” she screamed. His muscles nearly cracking, Wigg steered a course correction.
“Too far!” Tyranny shouted. “Come back two degrees!”
A sense of helplessness gripped Tristan as he realized that he no longer controlled the situation. Now everything depended on Wigg, Tyranny, and the acolytes. Wrapping one arm around Shailiha, he grabbed a wall cleat and braced himself. He looked out the window again. The great ship was still dead on course and gaining speed.
“Steady!” he heard Tyranny shout. Amid all the noise and explosions, her voice might as well have been a distant whisper. “Steady…”
Forty meters to the Recluse, Tristan guessed. Thirty, twenty, ten…
With a massive crash, Wigg set theTammerland down directly atop the stone bridge spanning the muddy lake bed. Sparks flew from her metal-lined keel as she screeched agonizingly against the rough stones and tore across the bridge toward the Recluse.
In a massive explosion of wood and iron, theTammerland ’s bow plowed straight into the Recluse drawbridge.
Everyone was thrown to the floor as the fortified bow smashed through the wooden drawbridge, obliterating it. As the ship jammed her bow through the stone drawbridge arch, her abrupt stop brought her stern into the air. Then her keel crashed back down atop the wide bridge in a cacophony of broken wood, split stone, and mortar dust. Tristan held his breath as he wondered whether the bridge would hold the ship’s weight. It did. But with no cradle in which to rest, she would soon heel over to port or starboard on her deeply curved hull. If she rolled too far, all could be lost.
Tristan scrambled to his feet and ran to his window. His plan had worked! TheTammerland ’s bow had obliterated the raised drawbridge, and it protruded deeply though the stone archway that had once surrounded it.
Suddenly theTammerland started to heel far to port. With her bow still held fast by the archway, it was being literally twisted away from the ship’s hull. As her massive black timbers groaned and snapped, the room holding Tristan and his group started to drunkenly roll. In mere seconds theTammerland would break away from her bow altogether, heel all the way over, and tumble off the bridge. Tristan frantically turned to look at Wigg and the acolytes.
“Now!” he screamed. “Bring her about!”
Wigg and the women raised their hands again. While azure bolts continued to rain down and fires still raged topside, they struggled with all their might to free the ship. To his delight, Tristan suddenly felt theTammerland right herself and move astern. With a great wrenching sound, she freed her bow from the stone archway. As the ship retreated, the archway lintel and parts of its surrounding walls fell in, accompanied by shards of black, battered wood.
At once Wigg and the acolytes rotated their arms, and the massive ship pivoted in the air to again land atop the bridge. But this time her stern faced the castle. Tristan felt her settle; then he heard the huge stern door drop open and his fighters start charging off the vessel.
Tristan ran to take Adrian by the shoulders. “You know your orders!” he shouted. “You must stay aboard and keep theTammerland balanced on the bridge until everyone is off! Then get out of here! After that, if you have no choice but to let her tumble onto the lake bed, do it!”
“I will!” Adrian shouted. “And good luck!”
Tristan and the others left the room to go charging down the hallway. They finally reached the stern stairway and ran down to theTammerland ’s lowest deck.
By the time they reached the stern launching area, pandemonium reigned. Just outside the lowered hatch, azure bolts were exploding everywhere, and warriors and red envelopers were crisscrossing the air between the ship and the castle. Minions by the hundreds were hurtling themselves off the hatchway deck, trying to get airborne. Struck down by azure bolts or quickly seized by envelopers, many died before they could snap open their wings. Angry shrews prowled the muddy lake bottom, greedily feeding on fallen warriors both living and dead. So many screams cut through the air that they combined to form an uninterrupted cry of anguish.
Tristan stared out the hatchway to see the remains of the drawbridge archway. Behind him, hundreds of mounted highlander horsemen waited for the first waves of warriors to clear a path so that they could charge across the bridge and into the Recluse. But shrews by the hundreds stood in their way atop the bridge, fighting the Minions and making an advance impossible.
When the warriors realized that theirJin’Sai had arrived, they quickly cleared a pathway for Tristan and his group. They soon reached the stern hatchway. Just meters away, shrews, envelopers, and Minions were dying in droves as the terrible battle seesawed back and forth atop the bridge and smoke-filled air. As his hand closed tighter around his dreggan, Tristan searche
d the sky.
Where are you? his heart begged. We need you now!
Just then the sky went black as the keels of the other three Black Ships loomed overhead. With the acolytes aboard them empowering the vessels, Faegan, Jessamay, and Aeolus were finally free to do some death-dealing of their own.
At once azure bolts tore from gunwales of the Black Ships to strike the Recluse. Following Tristan’s orders, the acolytes were keeping their ships high. This meant that the only targets Serena’s consuls had were the ships’ keels, while the wizards and the sorceress rained destruction from above.
Azure bolts tore into the guard paths lining the tops of the castle’s red-stained walls. Parts of the barbicans exploded, bringing screaming consuls down with them. Many were on fire as they fell to the mud and the floor of the inner ward. Then more bolts rained down, this time tearing into the herds of shrews barring the castle side of the bridge. Shrews and warriors alike exploded and blew skyward. Tristan mourned the warriors, but he knew that their deaths couldn’t be helped. Soon a gap in the fighting opened up, allowing a brief window of opportunity to cross the bridge and storm into the Recluse. Refusing to wait any longer, Tristan turned around to look searchingly at the women he cared so much about. Then he turned to Wigg.
“Watch over them,” he said.
“On my life,” Wigg answered.
After giving Shailiha a final look of farewell, Tristan turned to face the fighting. Closing his eyes, he raised his arms and called on hisK’Shari Forestallment. At once he felt it surging through his blood, strengthening his heart and calming his mind for battle.
But this time he sensed something more. The hundreds of martial techniques the Forestallment held suddenly burst through his mind and his nervous system, granting him their immediate use. Opening his eyes, he was about to charge across the bridge when he heard a familiar voice.
“Not so fast, dango!” Rafe called out. “Let me give you a ride!”
Tristan turned to see Rafe and his highlanders charging down the path opened by the warriors when theirJin’Sai had entered the room. As the highlander chieftain neared, Tristan smiled.
Tristan stretched out his left arm. As Rafe charged by, their two hands locked in a firm grip. With hisK’Shari Forestallment active, theJin’Sai ’s movements had become one with him, like there was no longer any need for conscious thought. Tristan effortlessly threw himself up onto the horse’s back, just behind Rafe.
Their swords held high in the afternoon sun, Tristan and Rafe charged across the bridge and into the heart of the Recluse.
CHAPTER LXVII
AS THE BATTLE FOR THE RECLUSE RAGED ON, SERENAstood on her knees in her private chambers. She was exhausted, and her fingertips were badly scorched from throwing azure bolts. Her once-immaculate black mourning gown was smeared with the blood of both her allies and her enemies, but her precious withered rose remained tucked in her bosom.
She had personally directed the defense of the castle until the monstrous Black Ship had rammed the drawbridge. Then she had left her post to take refuge in her rooms, and to check on her baby daughter. Einar and Reznik were still somewhere among the fighting. She prayed that they were alive, and helping to turn the tide. After dismissing Dagmar and checking on Clarice, she had immediately assumed a posture of supplication.
It was not fear for her life that had brought her here. Rather, it had been to beg communion with thePon Q’tar. With the castle walls breached, she needed their guidance. But she also knew that if she remained amid the chaos and noise, she might not hear their wondrous voices should they touch her mind. And so she had retreated to the relative quiet of her rooms to pray for a sign. Suddenly it came.
“Serena,”the melodious voices called out.“Take heart. We are here.”
She was overjoyed to hear them. Their powerful presences immediately strengthened her resolve.
“The walls are breached,”she answered.“What am I to do?”
“Do not fear,”thePon Q’tar voices answered.“Do as we say, and you and your child will be saved.”
“I await your wisdom,”she replied.
“If the Recluse becomes untenable, you must save yourself,”the voices said.“The spell that we are about to grant you is powerful, and is meant only for you and your child. Use it to escape the Recluse.”
“But what of Einar and my consuls?”she asked.“Are they to flee with us?”
“No,”the voices answered.“From the beginning, they were only a means to an end. That is part of what true devotion to the Vagaries means. Now that Clarice lives, all of your conjured servants, your consuls, and your Valrenkians account for nothing. All that matters is that you and your child escape, and that Clarice grows to womanhood so that the other part of our plan can come to fruition. Despite your fears, it is not too late. Be still, our child, while we impart the needed calculations into your mind.”
Serena waited. Soon a riot of swirling, azure numbers and symbols appeared in her mind’s eye. She tried to read the spell, but found it far beyond her comprehension. Then the calculations unexpectedly vanished. She tried to call them back, but couldn’t. Worried that she had somehow lost them forever, panic struck her heart again.
“I do not understand,”she said.“How am I to use the spell if I cannot recall it?”
“All is as it should be,”the voices answered.“The spell is too powerful and important to fall into Conclave hands. Should you be captured, your enemies will not be able to draw it forth, for we have sent it far too deep into your mind for their meager abilities to retrieve. Even so, we will be able to return it to your ken. You need not understand its workings-you need only to read the calculations aloud in Old Eutracian. But until the battle’s outcome is known, wait where you are, where it is safest. It is still possible that your forces will turn the tide. But if not, we will revisit your mind, and your escape with your child will be ensured.”
With that, Serena knew that thePon Q’tar had gone. Her hope and courage renewed, she walked to the balcony and calmly looked down on the fighting.
As thePon Q’tar had told her, it seemed that the battle still might be won by her forces. The shrews and envelopers fought savagely and in huge numbers. Looking farther, she could no longer see the Black Ships. Perhaps they have been destroyed after all, she hoped. Many of her consuls still lined the wall tops. Black smoke rose into the air as the sounds of the screaming and the dying drifted to her ears.
She watched the terrible battle with renewed faith, for she now understood that its outcome was of no real importance. Once she and Clarice escaped, the wondrousPon Q’tar would protect them for all eternity.
CHAPTER LXVIII
THE MOMENT TRISTAN AND RAFE CROSSED THE BRIDGEand entered the Recluse’s inner ward, Tristan jumped down from Rafe’s horse. TheJin’Sai had a mission to fulfill, and it didn’t include the highlander chieftain. Landing warily on the bloody floor, he spun around and took stock of the situation.
Tristan’s assault on the Recluse had deteriorated into complete pandemonium. This wasn’t a battle of disciplined warrior phalanxes, or of Minion officers shouting out crisp orders. It was a massive street brawl, and each fighter struggled only for himself. Dark smoke and the stench of spilled blood filled the air with their all-too-familiar scent. Dead shrews, Minions, and envelopers lay everywhere. The desperate fighting had completely overtaken the Recluse and darkened the sky; and Minion and highlander bones, clothing, and weapons lay in grotesque, wet piles scattered across the ward.
Tristan stole a precious moment to look toward the wall tops. Although most of the guard paths had been damaged, some were still intact and manned by consuls. The consuls were using their strategic advantage to cast azure bolts down on the Minions and highlanders both inside the castle walls and those still pouring across the bridge.
Tristan’s priority was to find Serena. His heart told him that she would be somewhere atop the walls, commanding her remaining consuls. But because of the smoke and confusion, he would
need to get up there to know for sure.
He quickly looked around to find stone steps attached to an inner wall. They led up to the guard paths, but they lay on the other side of the ward. Tightening his grip on his dreggan, he decided to try to reach it.
Just as he started running across the ward, a pair of enraged shrews charged out from around one corner of the Recluse granary. Their bloody teeth flashing, the beasts snarled and thundered straight toward him. Tristan’s response was immediate and unthinking.
TheJin’Sai dropped his dreggan, then reached his right arm over his shoulder to grasp two throwing knives. Without hesitation he placed one knife into his left hand while keeping the other knife in his right. Raising his arms, he simultaneously threw the two blades at the charging shrews.
The knives flew so quickly that they seemed little more than spinning, silvery flickers. A blade buried itself into one shrew’s right eye; the second one tore into the other shrew’s left eye. To Tristan’s amazement, the knives kept going and burst out the back of the shrews’ heads, killing the beasts instantly. Then the bloody knives traveled across the ward and plunged into the facing wall of the granary. They hit the stone wall with such force that they cracked it in two from top to bottom. Tristan suddenly remembered the momentous night in the Great Hall when the Darkling had killed the flier of the fields. Xanthus’ axe had gone on to strike one of the hall’s marble columns and had nearly cracked the structure in half.
TheJin’Sai instinctively pointed his arms toward the throwing knives. They quickly levered loose from the wall and flew back across the inner ward. Like he had been practicing the technique all his life, he calmly used both hands to catch the knives by their handles and returned them to his shoulder quiver. Then he looked down at the dreggan lying at his feet. Without thinking, he lowered his right hand and opened his palm. The shiny sword immediately jumped into his hand, hilt-first.
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