Arutha roughly tousled the grinning Locklear’s hair and sent him after Jimmy. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he said, “We’ve got a full-blown war raging around us, and he thinks of girls.”
Amos nodded. “We were that young once, though I’d be hard pressed to remember that far back. Though, it does remind me of this time I was sailing down the lower Keshian delta, near the Dragonlands . . .”
Arutha smiled as they headed for the common kitchen. Some things had not changed and Amos’s storytelling was one of them, and at this time that was a welcome fact.
The second day the moredhel and goblin host attacked in the morning and were beaten back without difficulty. Each time only a single thrust was made, then a retreat. By late afternoon it was clear the besiegers were settling down. Near sunset, Arutha and Guy watched from the wall, and Amos came running toward them. “The lookouts on the top of the citadel see movement across the plains behind these lads. Looks like the bulk of Murmandamus’s army’s on the march. They should be here by midday tomorrow.”
Guy looked at his two companions. “It’ll take them a full day to get into position. So we gain two more days. But the day after tomorrow, even as dawn comes, he’ll hit us with everything he’s got.”
The third day passed slowly, while the defenders watched thousands of moredhel soldiers and their allies take position in the camps about the city. After sunset moving lines of torches showed that new companies were still arriving. Throughout the night the sound of marching soldiers filled the dark, and Guy, Amos, Arutha, and Armand repeatedly came to look out upon the sea of campfires across the plain of Armengar.
But the fourth day came and the besieging army only settled in, seemingly willing to bide their time. For the entire day the full army of defenders held to their places upon the walls, waiting for the assault. Near sundown, Arutha said to Amos, “You don’t think they’re going to try that Tsurani trick of attacking at night to divert our attention from sappers?”
Amos shook his head. “They’re not that clever. They wanted Segersen’s boys because they don’t have engineers. If they’ve got sappers tunnelling under these walls, I’d like to meet those lads: they’d have to be rock-eating gophers. No, they’re up to something, but nothing fancy. I just think his grand bastardhood has no sense he’s got trouble here. That arrogant swine-lover plans on overrunning us in one attack. That’s what I think.”
Guy listened, but his good eye was fixed upon the mass of enemies who camped upon the plain. At last he said, “We gain another day for your brother to get to Stone Mountain, Arutha.” Martin and the others had been gone ten days now.
“There is that,” agreed Amos. They watched in silence as the sun set behind the mountains. They remained watching until darkness had completely taken hold, then slowly they left the wall to eat and, if possible, to rest.
At dawn a thunderous cheer erupted from the besieging host, a mixture of shouts, shrieks, the rattle of drums, and the blowing of horns. But instead of the anticipated attack, the van of the army opened and a large platform rolled forward. It was moved by the strength of a dozen giants, the tall hairy creatures pushing it effortlessly. Upon the platform rested a gold encrusted throne, upon which sat a single moredhel dressed in a short white robe. Behind him crouched a figure whose features were hidden by a bulky robe and deep hood. The platform came toward the wall at a leisurely pace.
Guy leaned forward, his arm resting upon the blue stones of the wall, while Arutha stood at his side, arms crossed. Amos shaded his eyes with his hands against the rising sun. The seaman spat over the wall. “I think we finally meet the grand high royal bastard himself.”
Guy only nodded. A company subcommander came up and said, “Protector, the enemy takes position opposite all sectors of the wall.”
“Any attempt to reach the mountain redoubts?” Guy indicated the section of cliff behind the citadel.
“Armand reports only weak thrusts toward the outposts in the rocks. They seem unwilling to climb and fight.”
Guy nodded and returned his attention to the field. The platform halted and the figure on the throne stood.
By some act of magic his voice filled the air, heard by everyone on the wall as if he were standing only a few feet away. “O my children,” he said, “hear my words.” Arutha looked at Amos and Guy in wonder, for this Murmandamus spoke music. The very sounds of his words were etched with the warmth of a lute’s melody. “We share the destiny of tomorrow. Stand in opposition to fate’s will and you risk utter destruction. Come, come. Let old differences be put aside.”
He signalled and a company of human riders came trotting up to stand behind him. “Here, can you see? With me already are those of your kindred who understand our destiny. 1 welcome all who will willingly serve. With me you shall find a place of greatness. Come, come, let us put aside the past. You are but my misguided children.”