These Violent Delights

by dorsata

When Sharma captures Maerad and Cadvan, it seems as though his dominion over Annar and the seven kingdoms will be complete. Trapped in Dagra, and trying desperately to outmaneuver him, Maerad and Cadvan must rely on their love of each other to protect them. But love may not be enough, and in Dagra, it might even be ruinous. The first in a projected trilogy.

23. Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

So many birds streamed into the city that they blotted out the sun. They were coming with the latest news of the Black Army: it's size, speed, the war machines it employed, the dark shapes that moved alongside it like orbiting black holes. Silvia shivered at the ominous premonition and waited until one raven dropped from the air and landed at the table in the garden to share its tidings. She hurried back indoors, leaving the raven with bread cold meat. She took the stairs two at a time, heading for Malgorn's study where Kelia and Indik were gathered. When she entered, they looked up, faces grim and eyes hard; they didn't appear remotely surprised by her news.

"Lord Kargan says the army is still a day out, but they are driving the infantry fast and will be here as soon as the sun is up. He says there are thousands of men, dogsoldiers, wers, dark creatures that move in the shadows of the army, and machines that grind the ground underfoot. Hulls naturally travel with the army, at the lead of each of contingent, perhaps no more than a hundred in total." She looked from haggard face to face and came at last to her husband. "There are no Bards with them. He doesn't know what happened to the Bards of Lirigon."

"I think we can guess," Indik said gruffly. "Dead or slaves. It doesn't matter, Lirigon is not coming to our aid."

Kelia stood with no preamble and poured herself a large cup of wine. She looked at the Bards before her with a bitter smile and poured three more. "Clever of them to strike north first. Where are we to run now? The south is swarming with minions of the Dark, the west has devolved into civil war with that idiot Enkir and the east…what to the east but waste?"

Malgorn sipped his wine. "We could still try to send our people east in the mountains. The journey would be difficult but they could go north…"

"North to where?" Silvia said in a hollow voice. "North to the Pilanel? It is only a matter of time until the Nameless One reaches out his hand for the northern tribes. To the west, to Thorold and Busk? They will not be spared this time. Besides, the people who stayed wanted to fight."

"Well, they're going to get a fight." Indik stood and walked to the window. He was staring out of the city into the forests beyond, almost as if he were trying to see the Black Army that was even now devouring up the land in its way. "They say it took three days to conquer Lirigon. Three days. Lirigon had an infantry, Lirigon had more men and women, Lirigon hadn't just won a battle against the Landrost that cost it lives and depleted its stores."

Malgorn eyed Indik unkindly. He didn't want reminding of the bitter reality facing them. "How many do we have?"

Indik didn't turn back from the window. "Soldiers? A couple thousand. Bards? Maybe a few hundred. We haven't the power necessary to rout the Black Army, though. We were going to put up a fight, buy Lirigon time to prepare defenses. Now what's the point?"

"The point?" Silvia hissed. "The point is that the Dark is knocking on our door and we must answer! Do we cower and beg for mercy, or do we fight?" Silvia was thinking of Hekibel sent off to Lirigon for protection. She wondered if the woman had lived or if she had been butchered in the sacking of Lirigon, and a furious rage overcame her. Hekibel shouldhave lived to see Saliman again, she deserved to see the man she had loved. "The Nameless One himself might be at our gates in a day and I have no intention of bowing my head to him."

"Does the Nameless One travel at the head of his army?" Kelia asked sharply. "If he does, then it matters not what we do."

"Lord Kargan says he did not see a creature that resembled the Nameless. He did not feel a presence as Dark as that." Silvia wished fiercely now that Maerad was with them. Though she didn't relish the thought of using Maerad in battle, the young girl was the only person who stood the slightest chance of defeating him. "Even so, though, there will be Hulls and creatures of the Dark plenty enough to battle."

"I wonder where he is," mused Indik softly. "I mean, either he has regained his power-"

"Don't say that," Silvia said sharply. If the Nameless One had regained his strength, then Maerad was surely dead.

"Either he has or he hasn't," Indik continued. "But some ill will gives this army strength, something broke the gates of Lirigon and battered the walls to dust. If he has returned, why is he not at the head of his army? If he is still weak and noncorporal, why does he march now?"

Malgorn sighed. "Perhaps his eye is elsewhere in Annar and the seven kingdoms?"

"He does not even watch the battle of his own army?" Kelia said. "He has so little interest in the outcome of the war?"

"Perhaps he doesn't care because he already knows," Malgorn said darkly. "Why bother watching the defeat of Innail if you know it will happen."

His statement was met with silence and everyone took long draws on their wine. Indik finally turned away from the window and gave himself a little shake. "Defeat was always certain, so why be so damned depressed about it now? The gate has been repaired and reinforced, the men and women have been armed, the Bards know where they belong tomorrow. We will give the Dark Army the battle they came for."

Malgorn managed a fleeting smile. "It might take everything we have, but it will cost them dearly for challenging us. I think it best we set our affairs in order and regroup tonight at midnight. If the army will be here by dawn, we need to solidify our plans of attack with the captains."

"I'll send word to them," Indik agreed. "They can meet us in the watch room just beside the gate."

Malgorn looked once around the room and raised his glass to the Bards there. "You probably don't need to hear this, but I couldn't have wished for a better First Circle. You were all brilliant, all true, all Bards of the highest quality until the very end. I've never met a group of people more true to the Light than you."

Indik smiled sardonically, but there was a light in his eyes that betrayed his expression. "You were an excellent First Bard, and I'm sorry we won't live to see Innail flourish under your guidance."

"A fine First Bard," Kelia agreed solemnly. "A fine man."

Silvia said nothing, but Malgorn knew her heart all too well. The First Circle rose then and each bowed regally to Malgorn as they left, until only Silvia and Malgorn remained. Silvia closed the door gently and crossed the room to Malgorn. He watched her with a sad expression, admiring the way the fading sunlight struck her face and made her eyes glow and her hair burn with red radiance. She came to his side then sank smoothly to her knees, taking his hand and kissing each knuckle, his inner wrist, and then pulled his face down to kiss his lips. She pulled back, her hands on his thigh and rested her cheek there. Malgorn placed his hand on the crown of her head, running his fingers through her red hair thoughtfully.

"I suppose this is our last night, my love."

"Don't say that." She didn't correct him, however.

"I have loved you since the day I saw you," Malgorn continued. "I would not have preferred any other way to spend my last days on this earth, but I swear that if you and I could, I would have run away with you when this shadow first crossed our path. I would have taken you far in the wilds and built you a home away from the Dark. I would have forsaken everything to have more time with you."

"You wouldn't be the man I love if you didn't stand against the Dark, though," said Silvia, looking up at him. "You are the man I love because you are not afraid of the Dark. Because you are here with me now."

"I'll be wherever you are," Malgorn said seriously. "No matter what happens, Silvia, when the Dark comes, I will be at your side."

Silvia had a sudden memory of the nightmare of the fall of Innail and shuddered. "There is something I didn't mention…something the ravens told me. Lord Kargan said that the First Circle of Lirigon was taken captive."

Malgorn stopped brushing her hair a moment and studied her face closely. "He is certain of what he saw?"

"When Lirigon was defeated, the Bards were taken to the School, but the First Circle was kept apart and they were sent with the captives south, but the First Bard was missing."

Malgorn closed his eyes slowly. "I do not wish to see you a thrall of the Nameless One."

Silvia searched his face. "I do not know what will happen to us in Dagra, but if there is any chance, Malgorn, that I might be able to save you-"

"No!" he sat upright, and took Silvia's chin in his grasp, forcing her to look up at him. "No. You will give the Nameless One nothing for me. Whatever happens once this battle is over, you will not surrender yourself to him in exchange for me."

Silvia jerked herself free of his grasp. "What would you have of me then? Shall I watch as the man I love is tortured and killed? Would you have me weep over your body? Would you force me to face the Dark alone?"

Malgorn turned away, pale in the face. "You won't be alone."

"Oh? Who will stand beside me? Who else has a right but you?" Silvia dug her nails into Malgorn's leg. "Do not ask me to forsake you, because you know that I won't. If I can spare you the torments of the Nameless One, I swear on the Light that I will."

"Silvia!" Malgorn cried.

"You and I know the stories of those who were taken to Dagra," she continued. "You know the tales of the Andomian and Berludh, Queen Recabarra, King Laurelin and how they died at his hands. I will not allow that."

Malgorn saw the hardness in Silvia's eyes, the defiant tilt to her chin and knew that nothing he said would stop her. "I could not bear to see you suffer."

"Why would you ask me to do the same for you?"

Malgorn drew Silvia's face to his and kissed her passionately. "I love you, Silvia, but I fear what will become of us. I fear that I will not withstand the Darkness."

"I do not expect you to defeat the Nameless One, my love, and I will be with you when the Darkness comes." She stood suddenly, watching the sinking sun outside the window. She felt her heart flutter uncertainly. "There is no time left for fear, no time left for regret. But before we meet this Dark I would bask in the Light one last time. I want to go into battle with the memory of your lips on my lips and your body joined with mine."

Malgorn smiled then, his fear of the Dark and the Nameless One and his fate pushed back. He stood, joining Silvia at the window and shifted her hair so her neck was exposed to him. He kissed the pale, warm skin there and snaked his arms about her waist. She turned into him and pressed herself against him.

"Love me," she whispered against his lips.

They left the office, still holding each other, still kissing each other; the house was empty, no one would see them. They fell into their bedroom, Silvia tugging at shift Malgorn wore, Malgorn pulling her dress free. They tumbled back onto the bed, Malgorn landing below Silvia so she sat upon his hips and ran her hands and mouth over his body, then they rolled over, the blankets wrapping around them and made love in the dying light of their last day.

---

"Tomorrow morning we will attack the city and I want you to stay here." Saliman was lying on his back, his cloak spread out beneath him and Hekibel. Idly, he twirled a strand of her long blond hair around a finger and thought how much like burnished gold it looked.

Against his side, Hekibel stiffened. "You want me to stay back here? With the Hulls and the soldiers?"

"I'm not taking you into battle with me," Saliman said firmly.

"But I can help." Hekibel sat up, frowning down on Saliman. "I can handle myself, besides it's not like the soldiers will attack me."

Saliman turned away. "Hekibel, you've no place in the blood and fray. I want you to stay up here and keep Iris company."

"I'm not a child," Hekibel said flatly.

"I didn't call you one-"

"You're treating me like one," she flared. "I'm a grown woman and I can look after myself. I want to help you."

Saliman sighed, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. "You can't help me, not with the work I must do."

"And what is that?" Now Hekibel lad lost her temper. "You won't tell me what it is you must do, only that I'm not allowed to be there when it's done. You say I must stay behind, but I was in battle! I was in Lirigon when the Black Army attacked and-"

"And look where that got you!" Saliman returned smartly. "You were hiding under a desk with a piece of glass to defend yourself. What if I hadn't come when I did? What if some soldier of the Dark had been there instead of me? You would have died!"

Hekibel looked away, stung. "I'll take care of myself."

"You'll take care of nothing," Saliman warned in a low voice. "You're going to stay here until the battle is over. I won't argue with you about this."

"It's not your say."

Saliman's eyes flamed suddenly. "Oh, yes it is." He stuck out his arm so that in the pale moonlight the Sick Moon glowed. "Hekibel, I gave the Nameless One everything in exchange for your safety. I promised him my service, I gave him my Name, I made myself his slave because he told me he would give me you. I've every right to tell you what to do."

Hekibel stared at the brand hatefully. "I'm not a piece of property."

Saliman looked away, flustered. He rubbed his face tiredly. "I don't think you are, but by his own order, you are mine to command. I swear on the Light, Hekibel, that if I must, I will tie you to a spike and drive it into the ground."

For a moment, Hekibel studied the profile of Saliman's face. She saw the straight line of his set jaw and knew he wasn't playing with her: if he had to, he would force her to stay. She shivered, knowing he was right, but hating it all the same. The truth was that she wanted to be the first to find Silvia, to protect her from whatever the Black Army would send after her. She glanced down resentfully.

"Saliman, please, Silvia was kind to me and if I can find her before the Dark does, she might be able to escape."

At this, Saliman laughed bitterly. "The Dark will not hunt Silvia down, have no fear."

"And how do you know?" Hekibel asked. "They found the First Circle of Lirigon, didn't they? And what will happen to her if the Hulls take her?"

"The Hulls won't," Saliman said with rigid certainty. "The Hulls aren't foolish enough to try and capture her. Silvia is a Gifted Bard, she knows her way around a blade. She'll be hard enough to subdue on her own."

Hekibel took Saliman's face in her hands and turned him to look at her. "How do you know this?"

Saliman grimaced, unable to hold her gaze. "Because I was charged with finding Silvia."

Hekibel's eyes widened. "You?"

"A nice little surprise from the Nameless One himself. Silvia is my friend and she will trust me when she seems me. A cruel trick, but efficient nonetheless."

Hekibel released him, her hand falling numbly to her side. "I'm so sorry."

"As am I, but this is why I want you away from the battle. There's nothing to be gained by riding into war, but everything to lose. I want you to stay here where it's safe."

"Will I be safe here?" she asked uncertainly. "I will be in the care of Hulls."

Saliman nodded plaintively. "It will not be pleasant, but you will not be harmed. The servants of the Nameless One know the bargain I made."

Hekibel drew her knees up to rest her chin on them. She wondered, not for the first time, how Saliman had made such a sacrifice. He had barely known her but had still given up everything to guarantee her safety. She didn't know if she was worth the price he had paid. She wanted to be, though.

"How long will it be? Can I help you from here at least?"

Saliman leaned back, settling his weight on his hands. "Lirigon was three days, and they had an army of their own. Innail has nothing but a few hundred men and Bards, and they're only just defeated the Landrost. Of course, the Black Army seems almost halved now since soldiers had to escort the prisoners back to Dagra, but I suspect it will only be a few days if that. Malgorn isn't going to let the city and all the innocent people burn."

"Will he have a choice?" Hekibel wondered, thinking back to Lirigon burning around her.

"Malgorn is no fool," Saliman said slowly. "He will recognize early that the battle is against them. If he can, I think he will find a way to convey surrender." Saliman bowed his head. He didn't relish the thought of his friends in the power of the Dark. "If Likud will accept, I do not know."

"And you will find him."

"No, I will find Silvia and see her to Likud, Cadvan will have to track Malgorn down." Saliman spared a glace for Cadvan who was sleeping nearby.

"Could Malgorn defeat him in battle?" Hekibel asked. "Cadvan, I mean."

"No." Saliman admired Malgorn, counted him among the best Bards in Annar, but he didn't think for a moment that Malgorn was match for Cadvan. "Besides, Malgorn will think Cadvan has come to aid them."

"I am sorry for your friends, I'm sorry for your people." Hekibel worried her lip. "When we go back to Dagra, what happens then?"

Saliman glanced at her sharply. "Nothing will happen to you, Hekibel. I don't know what the Nameless One plans for me next, but I'll see to it you're well cared for. Maerad stays in Cadvan's rooms, and though I imagine it feels like something of a prison, it is by far the safest place."

Hekibel frowned. "But what will I…do?"

Saliman sighed. "I don't know. I don't even know that the Nameless One knows what to do next. But I swear that I won't let anyone hurt you once we're there."

"I suppose it's not that I have a choice," Hekibel laughed in hard voice. She tried to smile but it felt tight and misshapen on her face. "I feel like I'm running through a ravine and I can't turn around. It's like every moment of my life has been leading to now and I'm terrified of what's coming, but I can't stop running."

Saliman was staring at her, his face inexplicably sad. "I am sorry if I have brought you to this."

"I don't think you did," she said contemplatively, "but I think I was meant to be here all the same. I suppose I'm just glad you were here to share it with me."

Saliman understood her sudden desire to find meaning in such a horrible place. Perhaps it was the only way people could go on when faced with such bitter realities. Saliman certainly hoped that his suffering would mean something to someone. He reached out and Hekibel slunk back under his arm against his side. "It is not the end, you know. We're in a bad spot now and it seems like this is how everything good ends, but I think there is light on the horizon. There's still hope."

They lay back on Saliman's cloak, looking up at the stars that winked weakly through the clouds of smoke produced by the Black Army. Hekibel turned so she could wrap her arms around Saliman and bask in the warm glow. She thought of the battle that would begin tomorrow but end in Dagra, and she wondered what would become of her few friends who were bound for worse fates than hers. Against Saliman she shivered.

"Don't fear for the morning," Saliman whispered into her hair. "I will return to you, I'll keep you safe from the Nameless One. This ugliness will be over soon."

---

A quarter past midnight and the First Circle gathered in the guardhouse adjacent the gate to meet with the captains of their forces and relay their plan. It was no surprise to learn they were not fighting to win, only fighting to fight, to give the Black Army one last challenge before they claimed northern Annar for the Nameless One. Their strategy was vicious: choose their battle grounds, strike in the dark then get out fast, sacrifice anything in the city if it could cost more soldiers. Gorilla warfare.

As the captains left, Indik glanced around the guard house once more. "It's going to be bloody," he said conversationally. "But by the Light, it'll be a good way to go."

Silvia, who was thinking of what the raven had said the Lirigon's First Circle, opened her mouth to say something, but thought better of it and crossed the room to the window. In the dead of night, she could see the faint red glow in the distance: the Black Army was on their doorstep. "Let it not be said Innail stood by and let the Nameless One claim the north."

"That will not be said," agreed Kelia, joining her and taking a firm grip on her wrist. "We'll defend the Light to very last."

Malgorn was studying Silvia's profile, his thoughts on their evening together and thinking he would rather see her dead than a captive in the Dark Tower. "Then let us begin. They will rouse their army soon for the first attack and we must be ready."

The First Circle went their separate ways: Indik to the wall, Kelia to the School, Silvia and Malgorn in the city proper. Layers of defense would be key to stopping the Black Army, so spreading out their most powerful Bards would help bolster such defenses. As the night faded to inky black, the Black Army began to move and the vibrations resounded through the ground, scattering small animals and announcing their approach for miles. In the School, the defenders of Innail readied their weapons.

The first wave of attack came early when the sky was the blue black of predawn and the stars were faint. The wind grew still as the Hulls cast a spell to prevent a change in the weather and it was like a deep breath before a long plunge. The Bards in Innail sensed the change and loosened their weapons so they were ready when wers poured from the dark sky above. Like before, the Bards had built a protective barrier around the School, and the wers were repelled, but they crashed upon it relentlessly, driven by a master far worse than the Landrost. Each collision was like distant thunder and below them, the Bards trembled. But the shield held and they were spared for the moment.

Outside the city, the captains of the Black Army seethed in anger at the cunning of the wards placed about the city. The wers they could waste, but time, they couldn't. They turned their red gaze on the wards and allowed their master to view the city through eyes. The Nameless One beheld the spiderweb of light that grew around the city in a golden dome and called on his power to break the barriers. At first, there was a furious storm that tore at trees and sent dirt flying to the air, and then the ground shivered underfoot and just like in Lirigon, some heavy, inexorable force pounded the wards. On the third blow, they shattered and the golden light flickered and died.

The wers poured into the city and the Bards and soldiers in Innail engaged them in vicious battle. They had known that the barriers would break, and they had prepared for the onslaught. Hundreds of archers aimed flaming arrows up at the heavens. The wers caught fire and fell to the ground like disfigured, burning angels where they were quickly slaughtered. The Hulls hissed in anger as a battalion of their servants fell to the Bards, but they summoned the dogsoldiers next and set their eyes on the gate.

Indik was at the gate, watching the Black Army roil before him as the horrid beasts of fire and iron made their way to the front of the line. Around him, his soldiers were shivering in horror of the creatures, but they did not flee. He lifted his hand, signaling his men to aim their bows and wait to fire. The dogsoldiers slogged forward, crushing the infantry before them and just as they made it to the front of the lines, Indik's hand came down.

The arrows arched through the air and landed with unerring precision in piles of rubble and kindling arranged in a semicircular line around the city wall. The dogsoldiers paused, studying the flames that licked at the debris, glowing faintly in the predawn light. Tentatively, carefully, one of the dogsoldiers came forward, nosing at the flame. It was then that the Bards along the wall emerged from behind ranks of soldiers and as one, fanned the flames into a wall of fire. The dogsoldiers fell back, furious at the show of force and howled. The strange cries, part animal, part tortured man echoed up to the Bards in the city.

"That will keep the beasts at bay for now," Indik said gruffly to himself. Of course, the rubble would burn down, especially at the rate the Bards were stoking the fire, but they had arranged another line of rubble and tinder. It had been wrench, the materials were parts of buildings from Innail itself, but the city hadn't planned to rebuild.

The Hulls in the Black Army came forward, curious as to the fires that scared the soldiers away. When the soldiers drew back, the flames had simmered down and licked the tinder like a candle. As soon as the Hulls approached, the Bards called the flame up again. The Hulls thought it was similar to Lirigon, but they could not build bridges across it. Instead, they would have to burn the fire out. The Hulls ordered soldiers to approach the flames and try and cross them. The Bards were disgusted with their work, but they stoked the flames back up and burned the men who approached.

It continued on for almost two hours, until the sun had risen. The soldiers worried the Bards like wolves chasing a wounded bison. They never let the flames die down, constantly trying to cross the barrier, and though they were badly burned for it, soon, the rubble had turned to ash and the first line of fire could be crossed. They were met with another wave of fire, though, and it bought the Bards the last bit of freedom before the battle began.

Indik was watching the events at the wall with sharp eyes. They'll be to the gate in an hour's time. Are you men ready?

We are, said Malgorn from his and Silvia's place in the city.

The School is prepared, Kelia said sternly.

Good, I'll let you know when the gate is breached.

It came faster than the Bards were prepared for. Once the second wall of flames had extinguished itself, the Black Army stormed forward. Upon the wall, Indik's men were firing arrows at random, not waiting for his command. The Bards among them were calling up White Flame to send showering down on the soldiers. It seemed to hold the Black Army back for a time, but they pressed forward, making room for a contingent of Hulls to approach the gates.

"Stop them!" Indik cried, taking aim and firing at a Hull on the side. His aim was true and the arrow lodged itself in the Hull's rib. It fell back, screaming curses and grabbing at the arrow, for it had been spelled by a Hull and burned with White Fire.

The Bards switched their attention to the Hulls, but they had realized the arrows were spelled. The Hulls drew up their own barrier of Black Flame to protect them and ordered soldiers to crowd tight about them. Indik ran for the gate, to stand on the very precipice and rain White First down on the Hulls. They built up their shield but Indik's will was great and the Fire grew hotter and hotter, burning away the shield. A second Hull fell back, howling in agony as his spell hit them, but the others pressed forward.

Up on the gate, Indik felt the force of their spell building. It wasn't slow like in Lirigon, though, it was a rhythmic pounding that grew louder and louder, the boards of the gate warping inward under pressure. The gate bowed like a ship's sail caught in the wind and the Hulls' red eyes gleamed, they could taste victory near at hand. Indik watched the gate bending in horror, ordering his men to attack the Hulls, but it was too late now: the spell would break soon and the gate would shatter.

There was a moment for Indik when everything around him came into perfect focus and clarity. He saw the his own soldiers running along the wall, saw the Hulls throwing forth their will, and saw the undeniable tide of the Black Army arrayed before him as individual soldiers. He felt the gate bend under his feet, felt the reverberations of the spell, then heard the horrible splintering as the gate broke then burst.

The force of the breaking gate created a rumble that was heard throughout the city and Malgorn and Silvia, who were down in the last circle, trembled. They're through the gate! Indik cried. We'll hold them but they're through the gate!

Good luck and may the Light protect you, Silvia said and then turned back to her soldiers.

Arrayed before her were men and women, Bards and common folk all as one, and she faced them gravely. "The Black Army has breached the gate. Ready yourselves and remember, that we will fall back. If the cause seems lost, retreat to the next circle and Malgorn's force." A few of the Bards looked uncomfortable with Silvia's command to retreat, but they knew the last circle had to fall, and hopefully, it's crumbling would take some of the Black Army with it.

Be careful, Silvia, Malgorn said gently. As soon as it seems futile, retreat back to me.

Trust me, Malgorn, Silvia returned as the sounds of battle reached her ears, I'll come back when I'm good and ready.

Silvia and her force had taken the prime position up on a hilltop and had barrels of smoldering black tar. She had a terrible first glimpse of the army, no Hulls or dogsoldiers, just innocent men, running toward them, but she gave the signal and they emptied the barrels. It sloshed down the hills in a wave of black and she heard the petrified, agonized cries as men were burned. She ordered the archers forward as another wave of soldier surged up the hill and arrows whizzed by her with such force her hair whipped around her face. Bodies lined the street, forming bloody barrier which the Black Army hid behind, and for a long while, they fired upon the soldiers with no sign of Dark monsters or Hulls.

But the dogsoliders came, trampling the corpses of their comrades and spitting gouts of acid to burn a clear path. This was what the Bards had been waiting for, and they came to the fore. Buildings lined the street, and, unbeknownst to the dogsoldiers and minions of the Dark, the Bards had loosened the boards of the houses and laid them with spears. When the dogsoldiers were within twenty meters or them, the Bards burst the frames from the houses and the spears shot though the air.

Dogsolider howling rent the air and the Bards summoned White Fire to accompany the spears. Their soldiers fell back, arrows still knocked and ready for the next wave of men, and the Bards hurried them down another street, past more buildings lined with loose boards and spears, and they took another stand at the top of another steep hill.

Again, the infantry approached and again they let loose tar and arrows. This time, though, the dogsoldiers had fallen back and were replaced with a hoard of child soldiers. The Bards looked on, utterly horrified, for these were children snarling and waving swords, children whose eyes were sightless and hard and were crawling over corpses to reach them. The Bards turned to Silvia, who was too stunned to move, and waited for her command.

They have children! Silvia cried to the other members of the First Circle. Child soldiers bearing the mark of the Dark Army.

The Light curse Sharma! Malgorn snarled, turning to his own soldiers to warn them.

Silvia felt a dark pit opening up in her. If she fired, she murdered innocent children, if she hung back, her people would be slaughtered. She trembled at the weakness in her heart, but raised her hands to cast the spell. This is the weight of authority, she thought bleakly, this is the burden of power.

When they saw her take the lead, the other Bards joined Silvia, breaking the walls and sending the spears flying. The children fell in a series of shouts and cries, and though the Bards had to fight the urge to rush forward and help, they could see the dogsoliders in the distance and pressed back. There was one more hill before they entered the next circle and met Malgorn's forces, and Silvia wanted to give up then for fear of what would come next, but she ran down the street, she remembered that this was Innail and this was her home and she would rather die than surrender it. On the final hill, they released the tar and this time more dogsoldiers came, and though they speared a good many, their masters had word of their tricks and had built shields to protect them.

"Fall back!" Silvia cried to the soldiers. "Fall back to the next circle!"

Malgorn's forces met them as they raced through the gates to the next circle and Silvia joined him immediately. "Child soldiers, Malgorn. I'm sure there are more, but I haven't a clue how to stop them. The Dark is cruel in this." She bowed her head, almost overcome with the grief, and Malgorn brushed the mud and blood from her face. She looked up into his face and her eyes were hollow. "They were children."

"Do not lose heart yet, my love," Malgorn murmured while around them the men and women prepared for the onslaught. "Do not allow yourself to be overcome with sorrow."

She lifted his chin definitely. "I swear on the Light, Malgorn, that I will kill as many Hulls as I can for that crime. I will make them pay for the lives of the innocent." Her anger was impressive to behold and Malgorn felt himself quiver with the intensity of her energy.

"They come now, my love. Hold fast to your anger and your courage!"

They both swung about as the cries from the army rose up. Silvia loosened her blade and it made a sound like ice cracking as it came free of the scabbard. "Do you think Indik still lives? The Bards at the front gate?"

"I haven't heard from him." Malgorn was watching the black shapes emerging and hoping very much that Silvia was wrong and the Nameless One was not capturing the First Circle. In that moment, he wished that Indik was dead rather than a prisoner.

"The Light protect him," Silvia said breathlessly and took Malgorn's hand. She pulled him to her and kissed him once more. "I will see you on the other side of this. Here or beyond the Gates, my love."

Silvia turned to join her contingent, heading for the School where they would regroup and make their last stand. Malgorn watched her go, his heart blazing with pride and then turned to face the onslaught. At the front, he saw the dogsoldiers that burned away corpses of men and horses, abandoned weapons and scattered debris. Behind them, came more infantry, and mixed among the grown men, he could just see small figures darting here and there, bride blades gleaming at their hips.

Call up the storm, Malgorn said tersely to the Bards in the back of their lines.

They began weather-working immediately, calling up a fierce deluge and wind that battered the encroaching forces. The men seemed to waver in response, but the dogsoliders pushed on unhampered. They reached the gate that barred the entrance to the next circle and leapt forward all teeth and claws and horrid green acid, but there was a startling flash of white light and the barrier repelled them.

A little bit of time, thought Malgorn, staring at the dogsoliders that were snarling and lunging at the barrier of White Fire. He saw that the rest of the army, furious at being held in check and bludgeoning out of the control, had taken to destroying the buildings in the near vicinity. It mattered little to him if the city was destroyed, they would all be dead by morning anyway, but there was something particularly petty about ripping apart an empty city. They were demolishing his home because they could, not because they had to.

Malgorn felt a quick anger course through him and he bared his teeth in a silent snarl. "That barrier will only hold for a little while longer, and when it breaks, the army will fall on us with a vengeance. Can we make the storm any stronger?"

"Not without damaging the city itself," one Bard said tiredly.

"They're damaging the city plenty," Malgorn said ironcically, ordering the men to fall back a safe distance. "Make a hurricane if you have to. Batter them into the mud."

The Bards weather-working called up more wind and rain and soon the gusts of wind roared and hail replaced the rain. The Black Army was furious at the Bard's quick storm and the Hulls didn't have the skill to stop it. Orders were sent forward and soon the dogsoliders were throwing themselves against the barrier, each blow like a hammer against stone. As afternoon came in and the barrier still hadn't broken, though, the crowds began to part and a fell creature crept toward the front of the line.

Malgorn studied the thing from afar but his eyes couldn't rest on it. It seemed to be shrouded in shadow, but occasionally the darkness shifted and he caught the glimpse of a pale, boney hand. When the dogsoldiers came to heel and made way for the Dark creature, Malgorn knew it was a creature of Abyss. He threw out his Bard senses and tensed when he felt the void the creature produced: a kulag or maybe even a wight.

"It's going to break the barrier!" he called to his soldiers who looked aghast. "The forces of the Black Army will bear down upon us then, but you must be brave. You must remember what we fight for."

Malgorn unsheathed his sword and it flashed coldly in the light of the high sun. When the wight approached the barrier, it burned with White First, but the wight merely stared at it, unblinking. Even in the distance, Malgorn could sense its merciless will, it's desire to destroy the paltry wall before it, and then hunger to consume the defenders of the Light on the other side.

It falls on me to fight the wight, Malgorn thought, screwing up his courage. It is me who must bear its wrath. Somehow, the knowledge was like a release. He knew now what he had to face, he no longer had to wonder in fear what the Dark would send against him. If I die, it'll be fast. There will be no time for slow torture and that itself is a blessing.

Malgorn felt the vibrations in the air as the wight blasted the barrier and it broke into thousands of pieces, minute falling stars that blazed in the air and fizzled out. Silence hung a moment between Dark and Light, and then the sound of pounding rose up like a wave and the Dark Army rushed forward. Behind him, the defenders of Innail shifted, bracing for the impact.

When it came, complete madness ensued. Malgorn was at the front of the charge and had tried to keep his attention focused on the wight, but at the Black Army fell on them, he lost it in fray. His arm moved automatically, bringing the blade up and swiping it down on the first man who came within range. Malgorn's entire arm trembled as his sword lodged itself in a man and he had to strain to free in time to dodge another blow. He moved forward, hacking and slashing as he went, and around him, he saw others from Innail inching forward.

They had met the Black Army in the street and so the space was narrow for combat and oncoming soldiers were forced through a bottleneck. It favored the people of Innail, who could kill attacking men as they tried to coming farther into the city, but it also meant that when the dogsoldiers approached, pushing forward through the army, the Bards had to meet them head on.

Malgorn was trying to find the wight in the crowd because he thought that, aside from Hulls, it would do the most damage to his forces. He moved smoothly, dodging blows from men whose eyes inside their helm were bright with fear and anger, he cut men down when he had to, their blood splashing his face. On his right, he saw three Bards struggling with a dogsoldier, dodging its acid and trying in vain to stop it reaching the humans. On the left, he saw a group of children launch themselves at some of his soldiers, who stared in blank horror at the prospect of killing children.

Find the wight before it can cut a path through the people, he told himself. Malgorn could taste blood in the air and it made him shiver. While he knew now that he would have to fight the wight, he was also painfully aware of his skills in battle. He wasn't Cadvan or Saliman, who were warriors in their own right, he was a Bard of beasts and birds. He could fight, yes, but he wasn't skilled enough to kill the creature. Find the wight and at least try to stop it killing everyone. He wondered if Indik would have been a better First Bard.

Something snarled at him and he was jarred from his thoughts when a dogsoldier loped toward him. He didn't think, just raised his hand and called on White Fire. The force of his blow lit a path of white light through the crowd and soldiers fell back crying out as the heat burned them. The dogsoldier was hit squarely in the chest and fell to the ground in a pile of limbs, its mouth hung open and acid gushed out, pooling around the corpse. Its rider had been crushed under the weight of the felled monster and its deathly pale face stared up at the sky.

Malgorn trembled at the force of his own attack and wondered for a brief moment if there was even a chance he might live the day. The common soldiers of the Black Army had fallen back from the deceptively powerful Bard, but only to make way for another. Malgorn's attack had certainly impressed the Black Army, but he might as well have announced his arrival with a trumpet and banner. He was the most powerful Bard in the battle and so the most dangerous Dark creature had to deal with him.

The wight had appeared in the space where the dogsoldier had been. It stood still, examining the pile of metal and acid and blood with keen interest before switching its gaze up to Malgorn. Its dead eyes flicked over him dismissively and Malgorn smarted at the insolent expression on its face. He tightened his grip on the sword and took a few steps closer.

"You've no business here, creature of the Abyss. Go back to the darkness and emptiness from whence you came!" Malgorn cried. He didn't think the wight could hear him over the sounds of battle around them, but the wight tilted its head slightly, eyes on his face.

"I have business with the First Bard of Innail. You are he." The wight raised its hand and a black flame sparked to life. "You have opposed me, attempted to deny me entrance to what is mine. You will know my wrath."

Malgorn lifted the blade so the light glanced off it and the wight snarled. "You will know the edge of my blade."

The wight shot forward smoothly, like it wasn't walking, simply floating over bodies and debris in its way. Its other hand came up and Malgorn saw that its fingers were long, jagged black claws. Its mouth opened too wide in a terrible screech and Malgorn hefted the blade up so that when the thing hit him, its claws were deflected by the edge.

"Throw down your weapon and surrender and perhaps I will spare you torment. Your death will be mercilessly quick." The wight fell back then threw a handful of Black Fire at Malgorn. "Order your men to surrender and spare them my wrath."

Malgorn answered the Black Fire with his own blazing White Flame and the wight darted sideways. Its dark eyes narrowed. "You will not scare us. You are not a creature of this world, you have no power here!"

The wight laughed and it was like gravel underfoot. "This world is ash and dust. It is dead. You are all dead, you just don't know it yet."

Malgorn lifted his sword and brought is down on the wright. The force of his blow was enough to rattle the wight's arms and two of its claws shattered. Its face contorted in fury. "I'll strip you of your skin while you still breathe!" it howled, slashing wildly. "I'll drink your blood, I'll rip out your tongue. I'll piece your eyes so you weep blood!" It punctuated each of these threats with a slash of its hands and Malgorn was forced sideways toward an alley. "And still I will not kill you, I will make you live a thousand days and nights, a pitiful, broken thing."

Malgorn ducked under one of its blows and threw up his hand and White Fire shot from his palm. It hit the wight and caught its robe of shadows on fire. The wight yowled like a cat and danced backward, extinguishing the flame with its own dark blaze. In the short time between blows, Malgorn had checked the battle. While Innail was holding their own, he could hear more dogsoldiers and he knew the Black Army had plenty more men to sacrifice. He didn't think his men would last the day.

Get the School ready, he told Kelia and Silvia. We'll hold them off a few hours yet, but I expect the Black Army will overwhelm us.

He could sense Silvia's trepidation. Can you bring your forces to join ours?

No, Malgorn sighed. He felt a wave of Silvia's despair wash over him. Whatever she had said, she had wanted to meet him again. It was so powerful an emotion that Malgorn almost dropped his blade then and ran to her. I'm sorry, but we're in the thick of it now. I don't know how we could get out.

We understand, Kelia said firmly. May the Light keep you, Malgorn.

Silvia's presence lingered and Malgorn fought back tears. I'm sorry, Silvia, but I don't think I'll see you again.

I'll love you as long as I live, she said and her voice shook.

And I you. I promise you'll be the last thing I think of before the dark, he said, turning his attention back to wight.

It had recovered from the White Fire and Malgorn was pleased to see that one of its hands was burnt black. Its lips curled back revealed rows of sharp teeth. "You'll pay for that, Bard."

"I don't fear you," Malgorn cried, lifting his blade.

"Then you are a fool."

The wight raised both its hands and brought them down so a wall of air hit Malgorn and sent him tumbling backward down the alley where he crashed into a wooden fence. His sword flew out of his grasp and clattered against a wall a few feet away. Malgorn saw bright lights behind his eyes and struggled to extricate himself from the pile of wood, but the wight got there first. It grabbed him by the shirt and dragged him free, throwing him against the side of a brick building. Malgorn tasted blood in his mouth and he rolled, reaching for anything that might serve as a weapon. His hand landed on a loose board but the wight brought its booted foot down on his hand with enough force to break the bones.

Malgorn screamed. "The Light take you!"

"There is no Light," the wight said, eyes gleaming as it drank in Malgorn's anguish. "The sun has set on this world. The dark comes now. Do you feel it in your blood and bones? Do you feel death stalking the land?" It studied Malgorn closely. "I wonder what type of man you are. I wonder beneath that handsome face what your soul looks like Will you go quiet in the end or will you beg and plead in agony for mercy?"

"Curse you," croaked Malgorn, trying to free his hand. The wight twisted his boot so his wrist was under the heel.

"We'll know each other so well in the end, First Bard. I look forward to it."

The wight lifted its unburnt hand and Malgorn knew it was going to strike him down. He closed his eyes, he saw Silvia as she had been the previous evening: her bare body painted golden in the setting sun, her red hair on fire, her eyes glowing with pleasure and adoration. He could feel her lips on him, her hands on him, her body moving against his. Silvia, he thought.

But the weight of the wight suddenly shifted and a familiar voice said, "Then this will be an unfortunate change of events for you."

Malgorn's eyes snapped open just in time to see a blade bury itself in the wight's back and jut out of its chest. The wight took a step back, staring at the hole in its chest and opened its mouth to scream, but the blade scythed the air again and the wight's head came free of its body. Malgorn watched mouth agape as the head bounced away and the body dissolved into black smoke.

"I see I came just in time, my friend."

"Cadvan!" Malgorn pulled himself up onto his knees and Cadvan helped him to his feet unsteadily. "Cadvan, what are you doing here?"

Malgorn inspected Cadvan closely. He seemed unchanged since their last meeting, though there was an unnatural strain in his face and his eyes seemed shadowed. Still, he was the last person Malgorn had expected to meet, and more than grateful for his timely arrival.

"Is that how you greet an old friend?" Cadvan dissembled. He smiled crookedly, and though it might have been the scars, Malgorn was sure there was something strange to his smile. "An old friend who just saved your life, I might add?"

"I thought you and Maerad were off to look for her brother," he said, composing himself. Malgorn gave himself a little shake, this was Cadvan, after all. "Where is Maerad?" he asked with a start.

"Safe," Cadvan said shortly, casting a look back down the alley where the fighting was still ongoing. "Far from here but safe."

"Nowhere is safe," Malgorn said, the shock of Cadvan's arrival wearing off and the reality setting back in. "By the Light, Cadvan, we're in the middle of a war! How did you get here? Did you see Indik at the gate? Have you seen the Black Army?"

"Aye, I've seen it," Cadvan said tersely, turning back to Malgorn. "And no, I haven't seen Indik. But you say he was at the gate? And Siliva?"

"She's at the School with Kelia and the rest of our forces." Malgorn inspected his hand. It was thoroughly broken but his right hand was his sword hand and that was fine. "I don't know that we'll be able to get to the School, though."

"No, I don't think so," agreed Cadvan.

Malgorn looked about for his sword but the alley seemed empty. He frowned, sure it had fallen not far out of reach. "Cadvan, have you seen my sword?"

Cadvan blinked at him and threw back his cloak so Malgorn could see his blade tucked into his belt. "You must have dropped it when the wight threw you."

"Good you found it then." Malgorn held out his hand. "I'll be needing it back."

Cadvan, though, made no move to give it back. "You're injured. Perhaps you ought to sit this one out."

"Sit it out?" Malgorn laughed hysterically. "Have you gone mad? Sit it out where? By tomorrow the School will be under the command of the Dark. Where would you have me go?"

"I meant only that you're the First Bard, you're more important than this battle. We should go up to the School."

Cadvan still hadn't given the sword back, and again Malgorn noticed how tense he seemed. How his eyes never rested on Malgorn's face. "I must stay here and fight. Before this battle is over, they will need me here."

"Come now," urged Cadvan, smiling tightly, "you're left hand is useless. You would serve Innail better at the School with the First Circle."

Malgorn gave Cadvan a stern look and held out his hand. "I know where I'll serve Innail best. Now give me my sword. If you want to go to the School so bad, go. I won't stop you."

There was a sudden rumble through the ground and a thunderous roar in the distance. "That was faster than I thought," Cadvan breathed.

"What was? What are you talking about, Cadvan?" When Cadvan didn't reply Malgorn lunged forward to grab his sword. Cadvan jumped and pushed him back, but Malgorn grabbed him by the arm and they stumbled against a wall. Malgorn, who was holding Cadvan by the arm, gasped in horror at what he saw. "The Sick Moon," he whispered, staring nonplussed.

"Malgorn, forgive me-"

Malgorn threw Cadvan back, searching his face. "Cadvan, what have you done?"

"I swear, it wasn't my choice," he said earnestly. "I swear it on the Light that I didn't want to, but he had Maerad-"

"Who?" demanded Malgorn, now uncomfortably aware that he was without a weapon and injured. He was no match in battle for Cadvan. "Why do you have that mark?"

"Who else?" Cadvan laughed bitterly. "Who do you think could turn me?"

"Sharma," Malgorn whispered. "You swore an oath to Sharma."

"That makes it sound like I had quite a bit more autonomy, but you're not wrong." Cadvan looked up at him and Malgorn saw a flash of sorrow and shame in his eyes. Cadvan couldn't bear his gaze and looked away. "I didn't have a choice, and I don't now."

Malgorn realized why Cadvan was there and his mouth twisted in a sour smile. "You've been sent to come fetch me, haven't you? My friend, someone I trust, I would go with you willingly, is that it?"

"No," Cadvan said softly. "No, this is just the Nameless One playing games with me."

Malgorn heard a note of pain in the other Bard's voice. "I will not go with you willingly. I'm sorry, Cadvan, but even though you are my friend, I will have to fight you."

Cadvan bowed his head. "I expected nothing more of you." He looked up suddenly and smiled ruefully. "I hope when this is all over, you'll forgive me. I hope you'll understand why I did what I did." Cadvan didn't wait, he lifted his hand and Malgorn felt a pulse of energy where Cadvan had struck him.

The last thing he saw as he fell wasn't Silvia. It was Cadvan, looking miserable and small, and behind him, the streets of Innail being overrun with the Black Army