Chapter Ten
"Your people have proven more difficult than I previously imagined, and I don't appreciate that." Ignalt was pacing back and forth like a lion in a cage, hands clasped tightly behind him. He seemed to be exerting a great effort to contain his anger and the air in the room seemed thick, as if the fabric of reality were bending under the force of his will. "You've been keeping secrets."
Nerili was slouched in her cage, breathing shallowly. Two weeks of gasping for breath, barely able to eat, had left her painfully weak. She watched Ignalt balefully and blinked slowly. She felt light-headed, sick in her stomach, barely right in her mind to speak to a Hull.
"Nothing to say to me?" Ignalt's lips pulled up into a twisted rictus. "I thought Bards were prolific orators?"
"Secrets?" she finally rasped.
"You didn't mention the ondrils."
Nerili raised an eyebrow.
Ignalt's temper darkened his face and he lunged forward, slamming his hands on her cage. "Answer me you worthless wench!"
"I didn't send them."
"I know that!" Ignalt snarled. "I know you didn't do anything, but your people did, and you knew they would. You're a lying little dog and if you don't tell me what else they have planned I'm going to cut your air off entirely."
Nerili felt a faint, bitter smile tug at lips. "You need me alive."
"Careful, little Neri, I might need you alive, but I've been studying the art of torture for a long time, I know what a body can take. Are you so sure you want to try yourself?"
Not at all, Nerili thought with trepidation, and drew a sharp, nervous breath. "I have a choice?"
Ignalt inspected her closely then shrugged, affecting a careless attitude. "You can make this easier on yourself if you comply. Personally, I'd rather have you fresh when you arrive to Dagra. I tell you, Neri, watching my master break the hearts and minds of your fellow Bards has been one of the most amusing things I've seen." Though he thought her face was a little paler for his words, she didn't budge. "What other secrets do your people have?"
"New ones, I'd think." She managed a twisted little smile for Likud's benefit and the Hull hissed at her. "I'm a liability now."
Likud's fingers tightened on the bars of her cage. "It's unwise to lie to me. Tell me what else they have planned!"
"I don't know."
A shiver raced over Likud, a flurry of anger, and he suddenly wrenched open her small cage, dragging her forward into the room. She could barely stand for weakness and stumbled into the nearest wall when the ship tipped to one side. Likud lurched forward and took her by her hair and began dragging her up the steps, cursing in the tongue of Den Raven. She struggled to keep her footing and, on a few occasions, stumbled painfully to her knees. She saw the bright light above her that signaled the deck and her eyes smarted at the blazing sun. Ignalt threw her unceremoniously onto the deck and she landed heavily. Before she had time to recover, he snagged a hank of her hair and jerked her head up to look around her.
"It's been a while since you've seen the light of day, hasn't it, Nerili? Perhaps, if you are more forthcoming with information, I will allow you up and about more often. You would like that, yes?"
The sudden burst of sunlight, the spray of the sea, the fresh breeze on her face was exhilarating. She wondered how she had gone only weeks without such things, and already she was desperate for them. Sharma will make quick work of me if this is all it takes, she thought darkly.
"Or is it that you enjoy your kennel in the dark?" Ignalt's voice drew Nerili from her thoughts sharply, and she glared up at him defiantly.
"It seems a moot point, I will soon be trapped in worse darkness."
Ignalt pressed his lips together. It was a problem that had recently begun to trouble him more and more: Bards had no fear of his threats when the torments of Den Raven awaited them. And truly, what could he threaten to do that his master was not capable of? He leaned down so their faces were level.
"You are right there, Nerili, you will go before our master and he will break your feeble little mind into pieces. You will be utterly and completely destroyed by him, your soul will wither and you will forget such things as the sun and water and wind upon your face. You will be made small by your fear and suffering." Nerili was watching his mouth move and thought perhaps he had finally touched upon something she might listen to. "That is for you. But surely there is someone else you would be willing to trade for? Somewhere in all of Thorold there is a man or woman who you would give everything for? I can make that trade with you, Nerili. I can swear, here and now, that if you give me information, I will spare them. Just give me a name, and not a hair on their head will come to harm."
It was no small offer, and Nerili, who was all but powerless now, had a sudden opportunity before her. The First Circle? But she pushed the thought aside, the Nameless One had been firm with his plans to bring the First Circle to Dagra. Perhaps just Elenxi? Surely, he would let one Bard escape his wrath? Ah, but if you ask for Elenxi you will have to explain why. You will have to tell he is your uncle.
"There's no one, Nerili?" Ignalt pushed, sensing her hesitation. "No one in the world you would see safe?"
My grandfather? she wondered vaguely. But no, because if they learn of him, they will hunt him down and that will take them to the common folk.
"I am to assume I cannot ask you to protect a Bard already in your custody?" she asked to buy time. "I cannot ask for Maerad or her brother or Cadvan?"
"Ah, well the problem there is that Cadvan is already a slave to the Nameless One and, as far as the Pellinor children go, no power in this world or the next will free them from our master's wrath."
The children. Nerili drew a sharp breath. There is a plan in place, but should that fail, my oath would protect them.
"The Bard children," Nerili croaked.
"What of them?" Ignalt asked disinterestedly.
"There will be many of them in the School who cannot fight. You will give me your word that all the Bard children will be spared slaughter?"
"All of them?" Ignalt hissed. "You want me to spare all the children in the School of Busk?"
"There are not so many, and besides," and here, Nerili brought all the conviction she could to her voice, "after this latest setback, you are not in nearly the position you thought you were."
Ignalt's eyes narrowed. "Do not think that this surprise attack has defeated me."
"Not this surprise attack," said Nerili purposefully. "But you must take the shore, then the city, and finally the School before you can claim victory here. That is a long, bumpy road."
"You ask too much. Children are our favorites," Ignalt said tritely.
"You want me to betray my School. I will have nothing less than an oath from you that the children will all be spared torment." Nerili stared haughtily up into Ignalt's face, but thought the effect was somewhat lost because she had to squint her eyes against the sun.
Ignalt showed his pointed teeth in a grimace. "Maybe we can reach an agreement? If your knowledge, at the end of the campaign has proven useful, when we come to the School, the children will be spared. But if you seek to deceive me, I will show them no mercy."
"All of them?"
Ignalt chuckled. "Yes, Nerili, I will show all of them no mercy."
"That's not what I meant."
"Oh, have a sense of humor, why not? I promise, there will be little laughter for you when this is all said and done. You give me good information and I will see to it that all the children travel back to Dagra fed and unharmed. Of course, once we're in the city, I make no promises."
"And none will be killed when you take the School?"
"As much as I can make such a promise, yes, but I take no credit for stray arrows."
We would do it in the end, Nerili thought helplessly, so shall I do it now? "What if the First Circle has made changes to their strategy?"
"Well, you would know the likelihood of that, wouldn't you? I will show you what we know, and you will supplement that knowledge with what we do not."
"I can do that." The words were bitter in her mouth and she wished there were some way to take them back.
Ignalt smiled, a horrible thing to see, and then bent closer and kissed her full on the lips. Nerili recoiled at the taste of blood and death and something else. "I'm glad to hear we could come to such an arrangement! It will be a beautiful partnership, I can already see it." The Hull clapped its hands together and laughed aloud. "Now remember, I make no promises on the Bards that aren't children. They will simply have to hope for mercy."
"I understand that," Nerili spat, not sure she wasn't going to vomit from the kiss.
"Forgive me, I simply believe in open, honest communication." The Hull gestured and someone went to retrieve maps and notes and bring them to deck. "So, let us begin now, there's some much to do, to plan, and so little time left."
Indeed, Nerili thought, casting a furtive glance to the island that jutted forth from the water rebelliously. There is so little time left.
Elenxi aimlessly shuffled through the notes on Nerili's desk, admiring the smooth curves of her handwriting and felt her loss anew. He wondered, not for the first time, where and how she was, but the images that sprang to mind were too painful and he pushed them away. He saw briefly instead how she had looked that final day when she had confided in him her fears and he had tried to console her. He should have known better.
You shouldn't have left her alone. You knew the Dark was looking for her. You knew they would seek to capture her. You abandoned her. He turned away from her desk and stared out at sea where the ships lingered, closer now than before. You're there, and perhaps, before this is over, we will meet again. The thought brought him morbid comfort. No matter how the battle ended he, Elenxi, would be reunited with Nerili again, and even if it were in Dagra, it was enough. His hand turned to a fist. But before we meet again, I have work to do.
Elenxi left Nerili's room and headed for the Music Hall, and as he passed through to meet the First Circle, he noticed with a measure of discomfort that many children were packed into its walls, and the older boys and girls, looked out with resentment. He wondered if, when the battle finally came to them, they would throw caution to the wind and join the fray. He hoped not, he didn't want to restrain them, but they had a right to fight the Dark as much as any other Bard. They were, after all, defending their homes against the Dark. He moved on quickly, keen to be away from their bitter gazes.
He arrived late to the meeting but was well aware of the news. "…ondrils did good work, and many ships were damaged. Of course, it is not enough to tip the scales in our favor, but it is enough to give us breathing room."
Kebeka smiled like a razor. "How many?"
"Perhaps twenty." Arnamil's words were met with dark satisfaction. "So, we've cost the Black Army perhaps two thousand men and who knows how many weapons. But I think, after that bit of play, they're going to strike soon."
"They must do," said Elenxi, coming into the room properly and drawing their attention. "If they waste any more time in the bay, it will give us opportunity to strike again. I've asked the gulls to fly overhead and see what is being done. They say the ships are arming. I think tomorrow, or perhaps the day after, they will strike."
"We're ready for them," Intatha said firmly. "The School is armed, the city pitted with our soldiers. Let them come."
Elenxi nodded. "Send word to the soldiers, have everyone armed and ready for an attack. As soon as the ships touch land I will send a bird with news to the north and our people will flee to Annar. Once that happens, we must hold the army for at least a week. It will take that long to sail across the channel, land and disperse."
"Where will they go?" asked Arnamil curiously. "Is there any decision as to where the Thoroldians will seek safety."
"Nowhere in Annar and the seven kingdoms is safe now. They will have to make do without us, or our guidance. I refused to consult or be made aware of where the people would go." The Circle looked startled. "I hope for the best and plan for the worst. Should I be so unfortunate enough as to be questioned by the Dark, I will not have news of where to find our people. None of us will."
The dark reminder that they were not fighting to win hit them like a blow to the stomach. "Fair enough," Intatha said after a moment. "Then when you send bird-word, send our hopes and best wishes to our people. Let them know we think of them."
"I will." Elenxi smiled, suddenly vicious and feral. "But for now, get the fires lit and weapons at the ready."
During the day, the city of Busk underwent a transformation from nervous anticipation to hardened resignation. The people lit the fires that would rain down on the army when it arrived, they walked with their weapons at the ready, they made their goodbyes. In the School, the children that had been so bitter, so rambunctious inside the Music Hall walls, fell silent and pensive; they listened to the sounds of war from outside and felt themselves grow small in the face of their doom. The sun set and the halfmoon rose, but its light was bright and pure, and the ships of the Black Army shot forward like arrows under its pale glow.
Down on the shoreline, Elenxi watched without blinking, signaling the Bards about him to draw their bows. "They will struggle to breach the shore, and we can take many when they arrive. Be ready."
Soon the sound of heavy metal and wood crashing through the water reached their ears. The Bards didn't light their arrows so as not to give away their positions, but waited until the first ship crashed up on the shore was a terrible groaning: its hull was torn through by the spikes arrayed across the surf. Out streamed men in armor, and suddenly, the arrows of the Bards fell like hail from above. Cries went out as men fell, but another ship arrived, and another, and Elenxi knew that the captain of the Black Army hoped to overwhelm them.
"Get the boulders!" he snarled.
They weren't really boulders, though they were certainly shaped like them. Huge balls of timber, hay and dry grass, coated in highly flammable oil were lit and launched down the hill. They flew like comments, blazing through the dark and leaving a trail of oily fire in their wake. They crashed into the line of soldiers and the men fell back in horror for the water, but there was little room between boats and spears, and the oil wasn't extinguished by the water anyway.
Elenxi's smile was wild and dangerous and his laughter was harsh. "I don't suppose the Dark planned for that," he spat to the nearest captain. And they couldn't have, since not even Nerili had known about them. After the hurricane that had torn up the forests and villages, the Bards had collected the debris and made the balls, and they dropped them now like small bombs.
It took a while for the Hulls to realize what was coming at them, and longer still to cast a charm that would extinguish the balls, but a few took to shore to deflect what they could. As soon as the shields were cast, the soldiers poured forward onto the sand.
"The Hulls!" Elenxi cried, aiming his own bow. "Aim for the Hulls!"
The Bards on the shore focused their attack on the Hulls that cast the shields to protect the soldiers, and, though the Hulls threw up barriers of their own, the sheer number of arrows overwhelmed the few Hulls and brought them down. With no protection, the wave of soldiers that had streamed up along the shore was suddenly defenseless from arrows and fire and soon their corpses littered the sand.
Elenxi stumbled back, calling someone forward to take his place, and grabbed a young man who was running messages between the battalions. "Send word to the city proper: we've kept the beachhead, but they keep sending in ship after ship. Have Kebeka send me archers. We need some relief here!"
The boy was off like a shot and Elenxi grabbed for a pitcher of water, gulping desperately. He watched from behind the line as the archers took farther and farther aim, trying to reach the soldiers who were disembarking in the water. A few finally gave in, dipped their arrow tips in oil, and lit them before firing. Suddenly, the beach was ablaze with men on fire, desperate but helpless to put it out.
"This won't last," Elenxi said decidedly to the Bard beside him. "The Black Army won't waste its men here forever. When Kebeka's archers arrive, I want the archers here to head for the bay. I think they will strike there next, and we must be ready."
His companion nodded and went to consult with the Bards and Elenxi sat back to take a moment to gather himself. Already the Black Army was putting up an impressive front, and they didn't seem to mind sacrificing their soldiers if it meant taking the beach. The Bards of Busk, though, couldn't afford such losses, and Elenxi saw already how the battle would go.
It's not meant to be a victory, he reminded himself firmly. I hope to the Light that bird has reached the people in the north of the island.
Soon, the archers from the city proper arrived and his men fell back, exhausted and utterly relieved for the brief respite. Elenxi called for water and wine and bread for the men before sending them off to the bay and studied the slump of their shoulders sharply. They would need a break returning to battle. Hopefully, the army would hold for the rest of the night and the men could break until morning.
As one contingent of archers departed for the bay, there was an explosion on the shore and Elenxi jumped to his feet. One of the ships from the Black Army crashed into the shore. It had been a desperate move, smashing through the spikes in the water and clearing a path for soldiers. Elenxi cursed as soldiers poured onto the beach and the archers were suddenly besieged by a new wave.
"Are there more boulders?" Elenxi demanded as his archers began firing wildly.
"None," returned one of his captains. "We can light a fire along the beach to stall them."
Elenxi turned to the shore again where the Black Army was making steady progress up the shore. "Our archers need relief from this."
The captain nodded and set off, calling for the Bards to set fire to the beach. Soon, the shore was ablaze and the archers could fire at the opposition through the flames. Elenxi screamed himself hoarse, ordering the men and women to build up the flames higher so a wall stood between the shore and the city. But the Hulls of the Black Army were clever, and they turned the wind so it blew the acrid smoke into shore and the Bards gagged as their eyes watered and their view of obscured.
From her vantage point from further up in the city, Kebeka could see the totality of the beach battle. The wall of fire was impressive, but beyond it, she could see the ships from the Black Army cutting a swath through the sea and heading for land. She watched, cringing slightly as another ship threw caution to the wind and slammed into the shore. The sound of tearing metal and cries of men rose up over the roar of the flames, but she still saw an outpouring of black clad soldiers onto the beach.
"We'll lose the beachhead," she said bluntly to the Bards assembled around her. "Perhaps it will hold through the night, but the captains of the Black Army will sacrifice their own men to make a path up the shore. When they come this way, we must be ready." She turned to the nearest Bard, a young man named Irem, whose pale face gaped at her in the flickering light of a torch. "We'll need to offer them a reprieve upon retreat. Where are the healers?"
"They are back a ways, waiting for the injured." Irem's young face showed his shock when an explosion on the shore announced the arrival of a ship that carried more than just infantry. Suddenly, green flames were dancing along the sand and a terrible howl rent the night air.
Kebeka smiled ironically. "I believe the injured will be here soon enough. Get them down here at once."
Irem's eyes didn't move from the shore. "Those are dog soldiers."
"Just so."
"I read about them, I've seen depictions…" Irem's entire body seemed to shiver and Kebeka looked crudely at him.
"You're not a soldier, are you?" she asked, not unkindly.
Irem smiled hollowly. "The Tending, my lady. I study beasts and birds under Tarel."
Kebeka suddenly took his hand in hers and squeezed. "This isn't easy work to watch, especially for one so young."
"It's not that, it's…"
"It's what?"
"My mother is on the shore," he finally said. Below them, the red flames the Bards were working were cut through by a spout of green. "She's down there right now."
Kebeka pinched the inside of his wrist, drawing him from his reverie. "Then she is well placed, for First Bard Elenxi leads her, and he will not let the Dark take us so easily. Nor will he allow his soldiers to fall into their hands."
Irem struggled to tear his eyes away from the battle on the shore. "I know it, but it is hard to watch."
"Don't think of it now," Kebeka advised tersely. "Get up to the city proper and find the healers. I want you to bring them here so that when the archers are sent back, we can work fast." When Irem didn't move, Kebeka gave him a firm push in the direction of the city. "Go now, we'll need it."
Irem finally fell back and cut through the crowd to find the healers. Kebeka's eyes followed him as she reached out to Elenxi. How is it on the shore?
She sensed Elenxi's surprise at her contact before his response. Difficult to say. The dog soldiers haven't been able to breach the fire wall, but not for want of trying. I think we can hold it for the rest of the night, but after that we'll have to fall back. Will you be ready for us?
Of course. Elenxi heard a ferocious edge in Kebeka's voice that gave him a little faith.
The battle at the shore stretched into the night, and though the Black Army was advancing aggressively, Elenxi was right: they would hold the shore till the morning. It came at a cost, though. In the chilly middle hours before dawn, the dog soldiers broke through the wall of fire and the soldiers rushed through in their path. Green gouts of acid and fire forced the Bards back until they were behind a high wall of stones and only quick summoning of lightening on the part of the senior Bards stalled the dog soldiers. The archers managed to pick off the soldiers once their primary defense was gone, but the battle went poorly for them after the fire wall was breached.
As the sun rose on the second day, the Bards retreated to the city proper. On their way, they set fire to the buildings and gardens, they used wind and lightening to tear up the stones in the streets. But they went slowly, making sure the Black Army could keep them in their sights. The soldiers were like ravenous dogs, howling with pleasure that their prey was on the run. But the Bards knew better: it was like a dance, leading the invading army on so they could turn on them when they least expected. When they took a steep hill up to the first circle of the city, the soldiers waiting under Kebeka's command released a wave of rolling, flaming balls. Trapped between the fire balls and the flaming remains of the city, the Black Army panicked.
"That was well done," Kebeka said with a feral smile when Elenxi joined her. "Gave them just enough rope to hang themselves."
"For now," Elenxi panted, looking back over the remains of the city. He saw ship after ship pounding into the shore. "But we're running out of rope."
"We've got enough to keep them at the first two circles of the city for a day." Kebeka waved her pikemen forward. "How many did you lose?"
Elenxi looked back, saw his soldiers leaning against walls, downing water while healers rushed to attend them. "Only a handful that I can tell. I don't know where we lost them, though."
Kebeka was about to ask if Irem's mother was among those lost, but thought better of it. "The Light keep them all."
As the sun rose on the second day, the Black Army tried to regroup after being led cleverly into a trap, but it was still difficult to take the beach. Though the Bards had abandoned it, there were still steel spikes in the sand that prevented ships from lining the shore. The ships had to come in as close as they could and send their men ashore in small fleets of boats. This prevented many of the war machines from being brought to land and kept the army composed primarily of men. The Bards made a few more efforts to keep the Black Army from the city: flaming arrows, flaming boulders, boiling buckets of tallow, lightening strikes, but few men ventured up the city streets. Elenxi and Kebeka drew a short breath at the momentary break in the battle, but they knew it wouldn't last, and as night came, they saw Hulls using magic to force the remains of their boats off the shore so the ships carrying war machines could land.
Dawn on the third day brought the return to battle. With dog soldiers leading the way through the city, the Black Army began its march. Elenxi and Kebeka cursed their poor luck and ordered their soldiers to ready for battle. The Black Army met the Bards in an explosion of fiery magic. The Bards of Busk were as vicious as the dog soldiers that headed their army, and the streets were soon running with blood. The Bards had one advantage over the Black Army: the Nameless One ordered that as many as possible be taken alive, and so the soldiers couldn't afford to utterly cut them down.
The dog soldiers worked more like sheepdogs, herding the Bards down side streets, trying to cut them off from their army. Though they couldn't use their acid to burn the soldiers, and the Bards could blast them with White Fire, it seemed that the terrible metal beasts got along just fine without their acid. The Bards managed to overpower some of them, but the Black Army had infinite dog soldiers to send forth and they were steadily cutting the crowd, isolating Bards.
The Bards held the city for a long time all the same. The archers kept the common soldiers at bay, and the pikemen struck down the men that pushed forward. They released buckets of hot tallow, they rolled more burning boulders down the street. They fought mercilessly and no one in the Black Army could not say it wasn't impressive. As the night came in, though, the Black Army began to push forward, and the Bards fell back to the next circle of the city. Elenxi wanted to call for more help, but as the moon rose, ships from the Black Army charged the harbor. As he had feared, the Bards were now split two ways and were the weaker for it.
Intatha was at the harbor, and though she tried to stay in contact with the First Circle, the Back Army mounted a surprisingly fierce attack there. As the fourth day came in, it became clear the Black Army would take the bay and attack the city from there. None of the First Circle were sure if this was an attempt to prevent Bards fleeing the School, but, since none of them were planning to escape, it didn't bother them terribly. What did concern Elenxi and his Circle was that they still had three days left to distract the Black Army, and if the bay was taken, the Black Army could split the city in two, driving Bards whichever way they chose.
Can the bay hold through the fifth day? Elenxi pressed, watching grimely as a group of Bards overtook a dog soldier. If we can keep it till then, we can all retreat to the School and hold out the last two days there.
Intatha hesitated. I don't know, but I think not. Already, they have sent sentries to try to pull away the chain away from the entrance. If they can get into the harbor they will overwhelm us here.
Elenxi cursed. If I send you more archers, can you attack the ships as they come in?
These boats move quickly. Whether it's a spell or slave labor, they can push against the current with surprising speed. I do not think even a hundred more archers would improve our chances here.
So be it. Stay until the chain falls. As soon as the first ship enters the bay you will make a full retreat to the School. Gather your forces there and keep the walls of the School up until Kebeka and I arrive.
As you'll have it. Intatha relayed orders to other Bards. I'll see you soon, my friend.
Sooner than I like.
Elenxi returned to the battle in the city with despair. It had gone poorly on the fourth day, and he was shocked to see the number of his soldiers dwindling. In a brief moment of reflection, he wondered where those Bards were now. If they were taken captive, had they been marched down to the shore to be shipped away? Or had they been forced into service of the Black Army? Were they interrogated?
Perhaps they are already with Neri, he thought bitterly. At least she will have company.
Kebeka was at his side suddenly, her face covered in sweat and blood and smoke. "Where do we move from here? We're losing ground quickly."
"We'll make for the School soon. I want to give Intatha some breathing room, let her get her people to the School, then cut off the Black Army as they take the harbor."
"They're in the harbor?" Kebeka asked sharply.
"They will be by the end of the day. I've ordered Intatha back to the School to shore up the defenses there, but they will be chased every step of the way."
Kebeka looked down and felt the ground rumble as a large building crumbled on the Black Army. "As will we unless you have a plan."
"We need to draw our forces up one more circle and get the armies along the mountain face. There are Bards there, and when they get the signal, they will start a landslide. We will trap the Black Army on one side and we will make for the School."
Kebeka raised her eyebrows: she didn't know about the Bards on the mountain side. "Clever."
"Only if it works. If not, we'll trap ourselves on the side with the Black Army and have to surrender." Elenxi glanced back to where the waiting cliff face was. "Order your soldiers back and we'll send them through the pass in teams; if we can overwhelm the Black Army for a few hours, they'll be too busy to notice our men retreating."
"They'll never know what hit them," Kebeka agreed, and grasped Elenxi's arm tightly. "Make sure you get yourself through the wall, too."
"Oh, you'll see me at the end of this. Have no fear there." He smiled for her benefit and watched while she set off, rounding up her lieutenants and sending word out to the soldiers.
Soon enough, Elenxi saw a steady trickle of men and women retreating back along the paved roads. They were mixed so as not to alert the Black Army, some spearmen, some archers, Bards who had come to the front to cast charms. They moved efficiently and silently, though their faces showed their relief at being sent back. The front line looked thinner, but the battle was so brutal the Black Army didn't seem to notice the dwindling opposition.
When more than half the soldiers had made it through to the next circle of the city, Elenxi sent out a sharp order. The Bards called up a terrible wind that blew into the faces of the Black Army, stoking spitting fires, blowing debris down the lane. In the breath of a second, the Bards fell back, running smoothly up the hill. Elenxi was at the rear and he was the first to see the dog soldiers spitting acid, trying to cut through the flames and smoke that blinded the army. They were a good half mile ahead when the Black Army managed to clear their vision and see the street they had been fighting on was empty. Furious at the ruse, the captains of the Black Army spurred the soldiers on, and they thundered up the streets. They were taking a sharp turn that brought them into the shadow of a mountain when the ground gave a tremendous shiver. The soldiers skittered to a halt, drawing weapons and waiting for the next attack, but then the ground lurched and deep groaning was heard all around them and suddenly a sound like thunder echoed in the air.
"Retreat!" howled a Hull from the back of the procession, but it came too late.
Rocks were tumbling down the cliff face, breaking tree trunks clean off their roots and dragging them down. A tidal wave of stone and debris crashed down on the Black Army, burying some, sweeping others aside, completely blocking the road.
From his vantage point on the ship, Ignalt buried his face in his hands. "That will set us back a day."
"At least. There is no way around it, but you must go over."
Ignalt swing around like a rearing snake. "Thank you, yes, I know that!" he spat at Nerili, who was seated before him in a large, padded chair. In a fit of demented humor, Ingalt had called for a great chair, and blanket and wine to be brought up to the deck so Nerili could sit and watch while the School lost. At first, it had seemed a great joke, and he had enjoyed the look on her face, but now, with the Bards one up once more, he was wishing he had cast Nerili back into her cell in the basement.
"One might ask themselves how it is you remain so calm and collected when, by all rights, you should be beside yourself with anguish. Did you know about this trick, you stupid whore?" he demanded, lunging at her.
Nerili sat back in the chair, chin raised. She didn't blink when Ignalt took the arms of the chair in his hands and pushed his face in hers. "I told you everything I knew. This, like the ondrils, was news to me. I told you the First Circle would have new plans, they would not risk me betraying them so completely."
"It seems a mighty coincidence to me. Perhaps we ought to look inside your head?"
Though Nerili didn't flinch, she bit her lip. The last thing she wanted was a Hulls tearing her thoughts apart. "When Sharma interrogates me, you will know the truth. If I have lied, then you can punish my people."
Personally, Ignalt didn't want to wait the weeks of journey back to Dagra to see Nerili broken, but his orders were strict. "A day we've lost, and you have no thoughts as to how we might make it up?"
"I told you to take the harbor. From there, the city opens up to you and you can cut through to the School."
"Ah, but two forces will wait for me now." Ignalt withdrew, snapping his attention back to the island. "Your First Circle plays a clever game. They are buying time…but for what?"
Nerili nervously glanced sideways. Ignalt had asked her about the School and the Bards and the plans for war, but he had not expressly asked about the citizens of Busk, so she had told him nothing of the escape attempt taking place even now. Ignalt completely believed that locked in the School were the minor Bards and innocent people of Busk, and that when he broke the gates, he would slaughter them all as a lesson to the Bards. She suspected he would be furious, and that anger would be directed at her, but so long as the children in the School were spared, it seemed a good enough trade.
"I told you," Nerili said staunchly. "They plan to fight your army every step of the way, force you to accept a surrender on their terms. To save the minor Bards."
Ignalt didn't turn back to look at her. "So much pain and fear, when in the end, you will have ensured their safety. How ironic."
How ironic, indeed, Nerili thought, watching the smoke rise off the island lazily. "You could send word you have me and that I have bartered a surrender-"
"Absolutely not!" Ignalt snapped around, inspecting her through narrowed eyes. "You would have me discuss surrender with Bards? You would have it said that the Black Army did not have the power to utterly overthrow the Bards of Busk? You would have me humiliated? There will be no surrender, there will be ceasefire. Our army shall overrun the island, your people will be made slaves."
"It could take an entire week. That is twice as long as Lirigon."
"Then it will take a week!"
A small, secret smile flitted across Nerili's face. A week would be the time it took to get her people across the straights and safely into Annar. She said indifferently, "I meant only to offer you my advice. You yourself admit you paid a high price for it, why not use it?"
"Because you would have me made a coward," he growled in return.
Nerili shrugged to the best of her abilities with her hands bound. "So be it. If we are going to continue to watch, though, you might as well offer me a little of the wine you had brought up. I'm parched."
In the face of his most recent failure, Ignalt was suddenly feeling less generous toward the haughty First Bard. Now, her words seemed a constant rebuke and her calm, quiet confidence unnerved him. He grabbed the glass of wine and marched over to her chair. She looked up at him impassively and he tipped the glass slowly so the wine splashed on her face and down her chest, staining the thin, white gown and making her splutter.
"We've run out," he said curtly.
Nerili spat out the wine and felt a thrill of anger rush through her. She still couldn't reach her Gift, but she thought that if she could free herself, she would kill the Hull with her bare hands. "Fine, I'll make mention to Sharma that his lieutenant is a poor host."
The casual use of Sharma's name sent a shiver down Ignalt's spine. "You'll be lucky to get the words out, little Bard. Now shut up and let me think!"
Ignalt returned to the front of the ship to watch as his army progressed. In the coming darkness, he saw the harbor blast open and his ships enter, but the Bards had abandoned their posts as soon as the harbor chain was torn. He saw the flickering torches of the Bards retreating up to the School and cursed. By the time the moon had risen, the army had docked in the harbor and tried to march on the School. Like the rest of the city, though, the Bards had rigged the road from the harbor with traps. They had made small landslides wherever they went, requiring hours to remove the rocks. They set raging fires and used charms to keep them burning. They covered the streets in hot tallow and burning oil and the foot soldiers couldn't cross until the Hulls relieved them. It was the cold hours of night when the army finally reached the end of the road and found the School gates held against them with charms and fire and Bards. It became evident fairly quickly that the Black Army would need the full might of its soldiers to take the School.
Unfortunately, on the west road, where the battle had begun, the army was still trying to remove the boulders and debris that blocked their path. Ignalt cursed and sent word to the harbor invaders that they must go and help clear the road. And though they succeeded in breaking a small path through by dawn on the fifth day, it severely hindered their progress as only a small line of soldiers could pass through. Annoyed and bored by the lack of action, the Black Army took to razing the city. Throughout the fifth day, Busk was put to the sword and soon the island city was almost completely shrouded in smoke. All that remained was the School.
"They will have all their forces behind the gates now," Ignalt hissed to one of his captains. "They are ready for us, but we have a surprise. Send the snouts and have them ready to invade the School as soon as we break down the gates."
Nerili listened curiously, wondering what new terror snouts represented to her people.
Ignalt must have sensed her curiosity because he swung around, smiling broadly. "You must be racking your brains, trying to remember where you heard that word before, eh, little Neri? The answer is that you haven't. When the snouts arrive in Busk, the Bards will be utterly helpless."
Nerili frowned but when no more information was forthcoming, she shrugged and turned to watch the sun rise on the water. She suspected that her days of sunlight were numbered, that there were no sunrises and sunsets in Dagra, and even if there were, she wouldn't be allowed to see them. She tried to put the sight of light dancing on the calm water to memory, the pink and orange fingers stretching over the dark red sky. This place would be her home long after the Dark finished burning it.
Ignalt buzzed with irritation when Nerili didn't try to wheedle information from him, and he flicked his gaze back to the island and his attention to the Hulls communicating with him from land.
The Black Army rallied their soldiers throughout the morning and marched on the School as a united force. Now that they had run the Bards to ground, there was an excitement stirring in the soldiers, a burgeoning knowledge that the battle was almost over, the victory they had marched across the continent and sailed a sea for was close at hand. The soldiers were raucous, shouting and cursing, swelling with the fury they needed to finish what they had started. Some of the men pushed forward too early, breaking ranks and lunging at the walls. They died swiftly with an arrow to the throat or chest, serving as a reminder the battle wasn't quite done.
The dog soldiers pushed to the front of line and began the arduous process of burning the gates. The charms set on the walls were strong, though, and the Bards could attack from above, striking down dog soldiers at their leisure. The captains of the Black Army seethed with frustration and behind the gates, the First Circle was planning their final stand with trepidation.
"It'll be close, but I think we can keep their attention focused on us for two more days." Elenxi was taking a moment of relief from the battle to wash his face and neck clean of the sweat and grime and blood. He noticed with distaste that the water in the bowl turned faintly pink. "Keep his attention focused on us." There was no doubt in anyone's mind now that the Nameless One was watching the battle, lending strength to his armies.
Arnamil was nursing an injured arm where had a taken a glancing blow from a bolt. "Perhaps, but it'll be a bloody end. It sounds as if the Black Army is tired of chasing us down, they're ready to spring."
"We need to exhaust them," Kebeka urged. "We need to barter for the minor Bards yet. That will take a show of force."
We'll drive ourselves to madness over this, Elenxi thought regretfully. But if I'm going to be taken by the Dark, I'll be damned if it's hiding on my belly like a rat.
"Right. So, how do we stand? How many have we lost? Do we have any more tricks up our sleeves?"
"I'd say a fourth of our people have been taken," Intatha sighed. "Foot soldiers and spearmen mainly who were down in the thick of battle. We have quite a few archers left, but they're tired."
"That's as may be, but they'll have to keep going until the walls fall." Elenxi gestured a young woman who was waiting on the edge of the room forward. "Whatever laradhel we have left, send it around to the soldiers." He glanced back at his Circle darkly. "If those walls fall, the School is done for."
Intatha shook her head at the enormity of the task left to them. "As for tricks? Little and poor. We could dump hot tallow, we can try to raise another wall of fire, we could call up a storm from the mountain. But I think it likely that the sorcerers in the Black Army will put a stop to such tactics quickly."
Elenxi noticed that Intatha wasn't the only Bard looking haggard and fearful: his entire First Circle seemed to be pushed their limit. He offered them the bravest look he could. "We knew it wasn't going to be easy, my friends. We knew this battle would cost us everything. Let us not surrender to despair just yet! Break the buildings if we must and harvest the stone to launch at the army. Keep fires going so the archers can send burning arrows. And remember, we're almost done."
And it was that which seemed to have the most effect on the Bards: the knowledge that they could stop soon. The First Circle seemed to sigh with relief before going out to lead their respective Bards in the final battle.
Once it started, there was no stop. By noon on the fifth day, violent exchanges of arrows and magery and fire were a normal occurrence. White Fire and Black flames danced back and forth between the two armies, huge stones torn from buildings in the School were launched from behind the gates and soared majestically before crashing into the ground, rolling over soldiers. The dog soldiers continued their assault on the gates, and the Bards continued to burn them and blast them and pierce them.
Through the night the defenses held and though the School shook from the force being brought to bear on it, it did not crack. The following morning, ladders were marched forward and thrown against the walls so soldiers could scale the battlements, but the Bards were quick, waiting until ten or twenty men were on the ladders before burning them or cutting them free. A few of the Black Army managed to mount the wall, but they were met with swords. Towards the end of the day, though, the Black Army had found their own catapults and were returning fire and soon, the beautiful, elegant buildings that made that had made the School a wonder of Annar and seven kingdoms were shattered and blasted.
Bards began to wonder why they defended the crumbling, battered remains of their School so fiercely, and some spoke of surrender. It was a long, dark night that came, and there was a sense of finality to it. The morning on the last day was oddly peaceful for the Bards. They knew the end had come and their struggle was over. A lightness came over many of them, and they kissed their loved ones, and embraced their friends, and they toasted Busk and the School and the Light from their places along the wall, or on the streets. Then the donned their armor and waited for the final blow.
It came late in the morning. The dog soldiers finally managed to blast a hole through the gate, but instead of rushing in, the soldiers parted so lines of snouts could enter the School. Chaos broke loose suddenly: the Bards were charging forward to meet the Black Army when they came up on the snouts in a frenzied mess. The sight of rabid children still many of them, and they stared in horror, trying to make the impossible decision between protecting themselves and slaughtering children. Many simple stared as the children scaled buildings and walls and wrestled Bards to the ground amid biting and kicking. The dog soldiers were at last run wild and cut fiery paths through the buildings. In the streets, fighting was so fierce that many in the Black Army fell back, calling on Hulls to lead the charge.
The First Circle parted one last time, and this time, Elenxi made his way back to the Music Hall, where the children were hiding. They were different now, Elenxi thought as he moved among them. When the battle had first begun, they had cursed their luck at being refused a place. Now that the war had come to them, they sat silently, faces blank and eyes hollow as the sounds of war drew closer and closer. Elenxi tried to smile, offer them a little encouragement, but he was distractedly keeping track of the battle's progress. As soon as the Bards were pushed back to the Music Hall, Kebeka would sound a warning bell and he would call for a surrender.
They made it to late afternoon before he heard the bell. The sounds of war had drawn disturbingly close, the ground shaking under the weight of war machines, when the clear peal of the bell rang out over their heads. With a supplicating gesture to the children, Elenxi rose up, dusted off his armor and marched forward as confidently as he could. He threw open the doors and stood on the step, surveying the madness around him.
It seemed that most of the Bards were in the School courtyard before him, weapons gripped tightly, faces set in hard lines. The Black Army had pushed them back to the Hall and was filling out of the streets of the School. He saw the dog soldiers, he saw the men, he saw-with a sick feeling in his stomach-children arrayed in armor. Elenxi moved forward, cutting a swath through the crowd of Bards until he reached the bare space between the two armies.
He gripped the hilt of his blade tighter and a vicious, sliver of a smile split his face. "Impressive," he said casually, as if commenting on the weather. The Hulls waiting at the head of the army didn't answer. "You've managed to do what no army before you has done before: you've pushed the Bards of Busk back into their School, you've taken the island."
Finally, one of the Hulls smiled back. "You don't sound surprised."
"I'm not," he answered, thinking that even now the people of Thorold were safely in Annar. "I didn't really expect us to win, but I think we can all agree we ran you quite a while. You've lost many men."
"Perhaps, but here we are."
"Here we are," Elenxi echoed. "Well, I suppose we've come to it. It probably does not shock you to learn that the minor Bards are locked up on the Music Hall." The Hull didn't answer and Elenxi continued. "It is our desire that our children should be spared whatever torments you and yours have planned for our people. Send word to the captain of the Black Army that we will surrender if he swears to spare our children."
The Hull blinked, nonplussed. "And if we refuse, you will not surrender? Forgive me, Elenxi of Busk, but that seems a moot point. You've already lost."
"You've corned us, yes, but anyone with an ounce of brains would tell you that an animal is most dangerous when cornered. You'll have to overpower each and every one of us before you've won, and we'll fight tooth and nail to oppose you. Make it easy on yourself, have your master swear they children will travel safely, and we'll throw down our weapons here and now."
The Hull narrowed its eyes but Elenxi could tell by the faraway look in its eyes that it was speaking to its captain. After a few minutes, the Hull blinked and smiled graciously at Elenxi.
"My master, Ignalt, is intrigued by your offer, but unfortunately says he must decline." Elenxi felt himself go cold, but the Hull continued, "He says that he cannot enter into such an agreement with you since he had already done so with your First Bard, Nerili of Busk."
"Nerili?" It was Kebeka, directly behind Elenxi. "You have Nerili?"
"It seems," continued the Hull with relish, "that she agreed to trade information regarding your defenses in exchange for the children. How thoughtful of her."
She betrayed us? he thought in horror.
"So, will you surrender of your own volition, Elenxi of Busk? Believe me when I say, though, that I am happy to continue with our battle. It's true, we have been ordered not to kill many of you, but accidents happen during battle, men are injured, women are…" The Hull's voice trailed off, its eyes shifting to Kebeka. "So many terrible things can happen in such confusion. Better to surrender now and spare your people such pain."
Elenxi felt the emotions of his First Circle flow through him, the confusion and disbelief at Nerili's betrayal.
"Of course," the Hull continued, "you will have to personally surrender, Elenxi, so we know it's real. You will need to lay down your weapon here and kneel before your new masters. You must lead by example."
Elenxi felt the hilt of his blade, but he took no pleasure from it. Where it had once felt warm and comforting, it was now hollow, like a prop. He searched for words to tell the Hull off, but his mouth was dry and didn't seem to want to form words. He stared blankly into the Hull's red gaze and knew it was laughing at him.
"Well, Elenxi," the Hull asked politely, "do you surrender?"
The light glanced off Elenxi's sword as he threw it to the ground, but his words were lost to Maerad and Cadvan. They watched the surrender at Busk blankly, aware of the Nameless One sitting behind them and his attention at once focused on both the battle and them. The heat of his gaze was almost unbearable to Maerad, who thought it a reflection of his wild excitement. She shifted on the ground, pressing closer against Cadvan's side to hide from Sharma's anger. Cadvan, though, was bowed by the force of it. When Maerad turned to him she was shocked to see his eyes closed tight and a sweat broken out on his face.
What is it? she asked gently, but Cadvan didn't answer, merely shook his head curtly.
"And so, the show is over. It is mine." Neither Maerad nor Cadvan turned about to look at Sharma, speaking in his low, seductive voice. "Everything is mine. As it should have been."
He rose up and moved around the pool, the pale light illuminating his avid face. He was dressed in deepest blue and the detailing on his robes in fine silver thread reminded Maerad of a starry night sky. It seemed utterly incongruent with the horror he had brought to the world. She turned once more to Cadvan, whose eyes were still shut tight, and she took his hand. At once she felt the weight of the Nameless One's will bearing down on him, the brutal anger that he had bent on Busk surged through Cadvan. She marveled that he was still conscious.
"The world turns in mysterious ways, didn't I tell you, Cadvan? Do you remember, how I knew I would need you and Maerad here for my victory to be complete? Some things, some people, must be present for an event to happen. You two have always been bound to me." Finally, the Nameless One flicked his gaze over them, frowning at Cadvan's state. "This is no way to celebrate, Cadvan. Come, smile for me."
Maerad turned about, spitting venomously, "Do not toy with us, there is nothing to celebrate here!"
The Nameless One fixed Maerad with his steady, golden gaze. She felt his power, but unlike all the other Bards in Dagra, it didn't cow her. She was, after all, a part of that power; it lived in her like it lived in him. "Your master has just won his greatest victory. We are finally ready to begin the Great Silence. You will be happy for me."
It was a command, unspoken, but unmistakable. Cadvan's eyes fluttered open and Maerad saw that they were bright with fever. "I am overjoyed." He smiled and it looked like a grimace of pain.
"So much so you cannot put thoughts to words?" the Nameless One teased. He watched Cadvan a moment then frowned. "I suppose I forgot what this would mean to you, Cadvan. Nerili's defeat, her capture…her arrival here is imminent, and then you will be in quite a position, won't you? A past lover and current mistress."
"You know me too well," Cadvan agreed tonelessly. He was thinking desperately of his bed and an escape from the Nameless One. His body was burning with the Nameless One's rage and he thought he would be sick. "I can't imagine I'll be anyone's favorite."
"Ah, but you are a favorite of mine," the Nameless One chuckled softly. "You are part of the reason I have won. You have helped bring me to my proper place. You shall be rewarded." He threw himself at them and Maerad gasped, drawing back. Standing before them, the Nameless One made a rising gesture with his hands and their faces came up. He searched them both intently. "What shall I give you this time? First, I gave you Maerad, then I had her trained to please you. What more could you desire?"
"To go," Cadvan croaked. He hated being in close contact with the Nameless One because it brushed all of his emotions against Cadvan's consciousness. "For her and I to go away from this place."
"Now, now, I cannot send away my Andomian and Berludh." Cadvan grew pale at the reference. "You must stay a thousand years-a thousand thousand years- just to keep me company during my reign. But come, there must be some thing else I can give you?"
Maerad thought Cadvan looked like a small child in pain, much like how he was after the wright had struck him down. "I think Cadvan means to go away today, back to our rooms, so that we can recover from this momentous victory."
"I see the whores taught you how to speak like a lady, what a joke." The Nameless One snapped his fingers and Cadvan gasped, his back straightening. "Cadvan, tell me what you want."
"Let me out!" he howled. Maerad recoiled at the emotion in his voice and thought that he had gone mad. In the past few months, she had seen Cadvan in pain, afraid, miserable, but she had not yet heard him raving like a madman. "I am sick of your cruelty and your delight in the Dark. I would rather waste away in one of your prisons than watch another School be burned to the ground. I am sick of you."
The Nameless One tilted his head curiously and his entire being seemed to hum with pleasure. "So, the great Cadvan of Lirigon grows weary of my Dark? But this is so soon, so very early in my reign. How will you bear the Great Silence to come?"
"I will not."
"You will. You won't abandon Maerad, I know that much, and because of that you will live. And your every waking moment will be a torment to you." His smile twisted in delight. "As I promised you so long ago: the punishment for your crimes against me will be a life of endless misery."
Cadvan dropped his gaze. "If you are to grant me one favor, let me at least go to my rooms. Leave me be."
"I think you begin to understand what it is to be my servant, Cadvan. How hard this must be for you." The Nameless One suddenly shrugged, turning away and inspecting the scene in his pool. "Go away, little Bards. Go and cower in your room and weep for your friends and mourn the passing of your world, but do not think for a moment I am done with you." His head snapped up, his eyes empty and cold, his face devoid of anything but hunger. "The time will come when you will lend me your power and together we will destroy the Speech. And I will not allow you to fail me in this. So go, recover yourselves, because when I call on you again, it will be for our greatest conquest yet."