[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]walls, towers that touch the sky, black adamantine stone immune to the
elements a fortress of magic and power unimaginable and you, Vorn, are
about to prevail against it. History has never known such a siege. Future
generations will scarce credit it. You will be legend. Her voice rose over
the din of shouting soldiers, the whoosh of the catapults, the crack of a
thousand crossbows and the ping and clatter of bolts striking stone. Come
here.
She lead him to the south side of the turret.
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We are a thousand feet above the plain.
Vorn looked out across the dark lands of the Pale. Gray-black mountains hove
in the distance, ringing a valley of dirt and dust. Here and there rude farm
huts dotted the terrain, and miserable, near-barren fields made haphazard
patterns.
So poor a land, Vorn thought. But it was a fleeting thought.
Was ever a fortress more inaccessible, more invulnerable? You levitated an
army a thousand feet straight up.
There was no other way, Vorn said. Else they would have picked us off one
by one as we marched up the trail.
You did it by the power of your will.
The power of my will
&
The thought crowded into his mind, nudging doubt aside.
You did it, Vorn. Not me.
His chest swelled, then fell slowly, a doubting cast returning to his eyes.
But you &
I love you.
He looked into her face. Framed in the folds of her headdress, it was partly
hidden now as the wind fetched the cloth across her nose and mouth. Her eyes
contained a hundred emotions he could not fathom.
Melydia, was all he could say.
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Do you believe me?
He looked out again at the dust into which he had poured his army s blood.
For what?
came a small voice, barely heard.
For what?
Do you believe me?
His gaze was drawn to hers.
Yes.
They embraced as a stronger wind blew his cloak around them.
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Presently they became aware of a hush that had fallen over the battle. They
parted and returned to the north side of the turret.
Melydia pointed. Behold.
Airborne objects approached from the northwest. Their flight was swift, and in
formation like migrating birds.
What this time? Vorn said. What manner of hellish thing?
We will know soon.
Aye, we will. Too soon.
Are you afraid?
He cast a dark look at her. You think that deserving of an answer?
No, my love. Forgive me. I know you fear nothing.
He encircled her within his meaty left arm.
The objects soon revealed themselves to be bowl-shaped, with appendages that
at a distance could have been taken to be wings, but as the objects neared,
took the form of pairs of human hands, disembodied human hands.
Mother Goddess, Vorn breathed. What & ?
Each pair of hands bore a gigantic metal caldron that looked much like an
ironsmith s crucible.
Melydia stepped away from Vorn and stood against the battlement, hands on
either side of a crenellation, leaning out, her face awry with strange,
conflicting emotions. There was hope and expectation and fear and dread. There
was hatred. And underneath it all, she knew but strove to suppress with every
grain of her being, there was love.
She did not know that there was madness there as well.
Yes, she said as thunder rolled to their ears, dark clouds piling over the
castle. Yes! she screamed over its roar.
A finger of cloud passed across the sun, plunging the countryside into shadow
and revealing an eerie blue glow emanating from the castle itself. Webs of
lightning shot from tower to tower and bright blue prominences arose from the
keep. A storm wind lashed the citadel, but no rain fell. Dust devils whirled
about, sucking up the debris of past battles.
The flying caldrons broke formation and descended, revealing themselves to be
of immense size. They swooped, then reformed into a line, each caldron poised
above a belfry. The hands that bore them were the hands of malign gods huge,
sinewy, and punishing.
A bolt of lightning hit the tower on which Melydia and Vorn stood.
The prince was thrown down. Struggling against the ever-rising wind, he got up
and staggered to Melydia, who seemed unaffected. She was still screaming,
unintelligible now over the crack of thunder and the howling wind.
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We must go, he shouted into her ear, then tried to move her toward the
hatch.
She was like a pillar of iron. He tried to shake her, but her body recoiled
like a spring, her knuckles white against the stone, face uplifted toward the
fearful apparition above the castle wall, the line of caldrons that now began
to tip. From within the caldrons came a bright red-orange glow.
Vorn looked over the rampart. Men were bolting from the bottoms of the towers,
fleeing in panic. He let Melydia go and hopped up on the wall.
You! he screamed. Man your stations! His voice was lost in the din.
Back! Get back, I say! Return to your He broke off. It was useless. Too
much to expect mortal men to face doom at the literal hands of the
supernatural. Vorn looked aghast at the slowly tipping caldrons. Too much to
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bravest man to face that. For the first time in his life Vorn knew that he,
too, was afraid. Yet he stood there.
Liquid fire poured from the crucibles, splashing down on the belfries in
flaming cataracts. At once the belfries and the men in them were engulfed.
Like animated torches, soldiers streamed from the belfries into the ward, some
jumping to their deaths. Those who didn t fell to the ground and rolled, or
ran in panicky circles slapping at themselves in a frantic attempt to put out
the flames.
Vorn s heart sank. He had never tasted defeat, and now it sat on his tongue
like a lump of brass, hard, cold, and bitter.
There was chaos in the ward. Weapons lay strewn about. Soldiers ran and
scattered like coals from an overturned brazier. The belfries stood unmoving,
mountains of flame, funeral pyres all.
Vorn could look no longer. He stepped down from the wall and walked to the
opposite side of the turret. He drew his royal-blue cloak about him and gazed
emptily out at lands of the Pale, lands he would curse till he drew his dying
breath. He closed his eyes, his chin dropping to his chest.
Presently he felt a hand at his shoulder. He turned.
You must see, Melydia said.
He stared at her, his face ashen. He had no words to speak to this woman whom
he thought he had known. Now it was as if she were a stranger. Her face was
transformed.
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