Arrows rained down upon them, and even knowing the defense was in place, Miranda and Nakor flinched. “This is irritating,” said Nakor.
Pug said, “I agree. And as you observed, it could be dangerous if I let my concentration slip.” He said, “Stop a moment.”
They did and Pug raised his hand. He pointed up in the air, and outside the protective sphere, directly over the tip of his finger, a spark of white light appeared. Pug twirled his finger a moment, and the tiny white hot point of light spun. “Protect your eyes!” Pug warned.
Abruptly the scene became a harsh contrast in white and black, as the point of light erupted to the brilliance of the sun at noon, then brighter. The pulse of light lasted only for a moment, but the effect was literally blinding.
Pug and his companions opened their eyes to see men crying in panic and terror, some reaching around, while others fell to their knees, their hands to their eyes.
“I’m blind!” was repeated on all sides by panic-stricken men. Tomas walked through a gap between two wagons, the defense of the city forgotten by men made blind. “How long will it last?” asked Miranda.
“No more than a day for some, hours for others,” said Pug. “But this particular group will not be any further trouble to us.”
They made their way around the last of the barriers and moved up the street toward the citadel. The remaining soldiers who had retained their sight ran at the vision of the four powerful beings walking purposefully down the street.
A panic-stricken sentry had called for the drawbridge to be raised, and as they came within a hundred yards of the bridge, they saw it starting to rise. Tomas broke into an effortless run, his sword drawn, and Pug realized he had left the containment of the defensive shell. Pug let it lapse, for while it didn’t take a considerable level of concentration to maintain, it required energy he might need later.
Tomas leaped atop the rising bridge as it reached a height of six feet above the road. With a quick swing of his sword he severed the massive iron chain on the right, links the size of a man’s head shearing with an explosion of sparks and a deafening clang.
Then he severed the left chain and the bridge crashed back into place. The soldiers inside the citadel cut the restraining ropes on the winch that raised the portcullis, and the heavy iron gate slid down before them, the iron points slamming into the stones with a loud crash. “I can raise it and you can all slip under,” said Tomas.
Miranda said, “No, let me.” She waved her hands in a series of gestures and raised her right palm, then extended her right arm toward the gate. A ball of scintillating white-and-silver light formed around her hand, then flew off, like a ball lazily tossed by a child, arching gracefully to strike the center of the portcullis. The energy ran along the bars, sparking and sizzling, and the iron in the gate began to smoke. Then it heated up, turning first red, then white-hot. Even standing yards away, they could feel the scorching heat of the metal as it began to melt and crumble before them. The men in the gatehouse above the portcullis began to shout and flee the structure, due to the tremendous heat rising from the burning gate.
Where the molten metal struck the wood of the gate, it flamed and smoke rose. In minutes a hole more than adequate to allow them to pass had been melted through the gate. “Watch where you step, Nakor,” said Miranda.
“You watch, too,” said Nakor.
“I’m not the one wearing sandals,” she said.
They entered the courtyard and no one was in sight. Whatever fight may have resided in the garrison was driven from them by the destruction of the portcullis. They crossed the small bailey and entered the keep.
A simple tower keep had dominated the harbor at Ylith for years, for the original rulers had been little more than pirates and traders and their harbor was everything. But after the Kingdom had annexed Yabon, the new Baron had decided to build this citadel at the north end of the city to protect the city from goblins and Brothers of the Dark Path from the Northlands, raiding down into Yabon. Here, for five generations, the business of the Barony had been conducted.
They walked up a broad set of steps to a daunting set of oak doors. Tomas pushed them open, and they parted with a shattering crack as a bar the size of a man’s arm behind the doors splintered and broke.
Before they crossed the threshold, Nakor said, “Ware this place. It is a seat of power.”
Tomas said, “I can feel it. It has an alien feeling, something no Valheru has encountered.”
Pug said, “That’s saying something. If a Dragon Lord hasn’t encountered what’s on the other side of that door. . .” He closed his eyes and sent out his senses. At the portal a ward existed; had they passed through without protection, they would have been incinerated. Pug quickly ascertained the nature of the ward and countered it. “It’s safe to pass,” he said.