Jimmy said, “Where are all the Dark Brothers? There were thousands around here only a . . . few minutes ago?”
Kulgan led the boy away, while the two black-robed magicians ordered a squad of Tsurani soldiers to accompany them into the keep, where the sounds of fighting could still be heard. To Jimmy, the green-robed magician said, “Ten magicians of the Assembly came to join us, and the Emperor sent part of his army, so much did they fear the appearance of the Enemy upon this world. We created a gate between the portal on Stardock and a place less than a mile from the city, but out of sight of Murmandamus’s army. We marched three thousand Tsurani here along with the fifteen hundred horse from Landreth and Shamata, and more are coming.”
Jimmy sat. “Three thousand? Fifteen hundred? They ran from that?”
Kulgan sat next to him. “And the Black Robes, whose magic they cannot oppose. And the news that Martin is upon the plain with the army from Yabon, four thousand strong, less than an hour away to the northwest. And I’m sure their scouts saw the dust from the southwest, where the soldiers from Darkmoor are marching beside those from Malac’s Cross, followed by Gardan’s regiments from Krondor. And all can see the banners of Northwarden to the northeast, and in the east the King comes with his army, one or two days away at most. They are surrounded, Jimmy, and they know it.” Kulgan’s voice turned thoughtful. “And something had already disturbed them, for even as we approached we saw bands of Dark Brothers quitting the city, fleeing for the Dimwood. At least three or four thousand seemed to have already abandoned the attack. And many of those between the gate and here were not organized, and some even seemed to be falling out among themselves, with one band fighting another. Something has happened to blunt the attack at the moment of victory.”
Then into view came a detachment of Keshian dog soldiers, running rapidly toward the sound of battle. Jimmy looked at the magician and began to laugh as tears started to run down his cheeks. “I guess that means Hazara-Khan’s come to play, too?”
Kulgan smiled. “He happened to be camped near Shamata. He claims it was coincidence he was having dinner with the governor of Shamata when Katala’s message to come to Stardock with the garrison arrived. And of course the facts that he convinced the governor to let him bring along some observers and that his people were ready to march within an hour are also coincidence.”
“How many observers?”
“Five hundred, all armed to the teeth.”
“Arutha’s going to die an unhappy man if he can’t get Abdur to admit there is an Imperial Intelligence Corps.”
Kulgan said, “But what I can’t fathom is how does he know what’s going on at Stardock?”
Jimmy laughed a genuinely amused laugh. He sniffed as his nose began to run and smiled. “You must be joking. Half your magicians are Keshian.” He sighed and sat back. “But there must be more to it, mustn’t there?” He closed his eyes, and tears of fatigue again ran down his face.
Kulgan said, “We still haven’t found Murmandamus.” Kulgan looked to where more Tsurani soldiers ran down the street. “Until we do, it’s not over.”
>Arutha ducked a savage slashing backhand blow and thrust in return, but the moredhel jumped backward. Arutha’s breath came with difficulty, for this was the most cunning and dangerous opponent he had ever faced. He was incredibly strong and only slightly slower than Arutha. Murmandamus bled from a half-dozen minor wounds, cuts which would have weakened a normal opponent, but which seemed to bother him only a little. Arutha gained no advantage, for the battle and this duel were bringing him to the edge of exhaustion. It took all the Prince’s skills and speed to stay alive. He had a limit on his ability to fight, for he had to keep himself between Murmandamus and the two sorcerers, who laboured over some mystic duty. The moredhel had no such concern.
The duel had fallen into a rhythm, each swordsman taking the measure of the other. Now they moved almost in lockstep, each thrust answered with a parry, each riposte with a disengage. Sweat poured off each and made hands slippery, and the only sounds heard were the grunts of exertion. The fight was coming to the stage where the first to make a mistake would be the one to die.
Then a shimmering filled the air to the left, and for an instant Arutha glanced away, only catching himself at the last. But Murmandamus didn’t remove his eyes from his opponent and seized the moment, levelling a blow that skidded along the Prince’s ribs. Arutha gasped in pain.