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Authors: Janny Wurts

Tags: #Speculative Fiction, #Science Fiction, #Fantasy

Stormed Fortress (69 page)

BOOK: Stormed Fortress
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Early Winter 5671

Dragon

The rock-chamber shatters, an explosion that avalanches ice, snow, and ejected boulders down-slope in a remote vale in the Mathorns; where a dumb-struck clan scout on routine patrol beholds what no mortal man on Athera has dreamed: the sight of a great drake as she blares in challenge, launches aloft, and soars westward on outspread, vaned wings . . .

 

By winter sundown, the dragon
'
s flight rakes over the brick towers surrounding Avenor
'
s Sunwheel Square; while the Light
'
s High Priest whimpers in fear, the creature from eldritch legend dives in, screaming rage, and on a fiery breath, razes every building, every grand hall and mansion, then craters the blasted ground underneath to excise the stolen skulls of four murdered hatchlings . . .

 

While the pyre of Lysaer
'
s wrecked capital smokes in death and ruin behind, the golden drake wheels with a thunder of wings; linked with the matrix of Davien
'
s spirit, the great wyrm Seshkrozchiel, once the mate of Haspastion, blazes south-east towards Lanshire, and the site of the Scarpdale grimward ...

 

 

 

Early Winter 5671

XI. Second Turning

At tide
'
s ebb on the southcoast, while the
Evenstar
set full sail for Alestron, far northward, the gale off the Cildein abated to smothering snowfall. In Melhalla, the flakes mounded over the edged drifts, and settled cold swaths in the hollows. All movement along the coast
'
s trade-roads mired down. The post inns, then the haylofts and carriage sheds became jammed with the misery of stranded travellers. Frustrated caravan drovers and stalled couriers clashed in hot argument over space to bed down, the available resources long since overwhelmed: first by an influx of rootless, armed men, then by straggling refugees, overburdened with bundled belongings and wailing children. As the blizzard paralyzed the surrounding countryside, the flood of humanity leaving Alestron sowed clogging emotional snarls into the natural flux currents.

If Alithiel
'
s song had defused killing enmity, nothing might ease the flaring energies sparked by such desperate crowding.

The Koriani seers received the sharp brunt, as the storm static cleared, and the lane flow reopened for scrying. Prime Selidie
'
s galled mood had not settled. Though the wrecked healers
'
tents had been set right, resecured and defended by earth wards, she had no tolerance left to field set-backs.

'
I cannot serve the order
'
s best interests, or make my next choices groping and blind!
'
The senior who had just complained that her exhausted circle of talent required leave was sent packing.
'
Until I decide to retire myself,
'
said the Prime,
'
you will sort any meaningful news from the dross and ascertain that I
'
m kept informed!
'

'
Matriarch, by your will
'
The rebuffed peeress curtseyed, rushed as she rejoined the sisters just tasked to uphold their assignment.

All fever-pitch purpose remained unassuaged, with the order
'
s threatened future at stake. Selidie dared to allow for no weakness. Dedication moulded her stance: the secret body of knowledge she guarded permitted no flinching weakness. While Sethvir
'
s dire straits kept the Fellowship hobbled, no Sorcerer
'
s resource would quash her. Nothing must challenge her latest bid to wrest back Koriani supremacy.

To that end, Lirenda
'
s slaved talent now augmented another circle of six senior peeresses. Their combined labour powered the sigils that steered Parrien
'
s obsessive revenge. The inflammatory act was almost too easy, the man
'
s heated temperament inviting the spur that fused discontent into discord, while the subordinate sympathy of his ship
'
s companies drew them into the web of entrapment. Though one seasoned captain had not succumbed, he was left alone to approach the nerve-jumpy watch at the Sea Gate. Few campaigners would attempt the volatile charge of informing Alestron
'
s duke.

Vhandon became the stickling exception. The lone seeress appointed to dog his each move affirmed his unflagging persistence. He could not be swerved from the chilling awareness that he must win through before Arithon
'
s mage-taught resources faltered. The moment Alithiel
'
s conjury faded, the dedicate core of the Alliance command would shake off mazed dreams and encounter the swath of Parrien
'
s unbridled butchery. As appalled shock recoiled to fury, Alestron
'
s reivers caught still at large would be cut off and killed out of hand.

'
The pressure stays on!
'
Prime Selidie exhorted.
'
Keep those ship
'
s companies wreaking blind havoc up until the last moment
'

The two opposed factions must ignite the explosion. Who lived and who died did not matter. Athera
'
s backwater culture and knowledge could never outweigh the wider legacy of millennia: not with the lore of
thousands
of worlds hanging in the greater balance. All of mankind
'
s prior history lay at stake, proscribed by an archaic compact. The Paravian presence had withdrawn, long since. Alestron
'
s struggle upheld a doomed cause, no more and no less than the opportune sacrifice to leverage humanity
'
s claim to inherit Athera.

To that purpose, the sisterhood
'
s resource must juggle each pawn for the endgame. Prime Selidie beckoned the seeress assigned to keep watch on Elaira.
'
I must know. Has the initiate snapped under pressure and tried to forewarn the Prince of Rathain?
'

The senior came forward, an upright traditional swathed in rustling silk. Her careful step bespoke the frailty bestowed by longevity bindings, and the austere character that tightened her wrinkled lips.
'
Matriarch, by your will, I have seen. Elaira remains in the shoreside watch turret. As you hoped, the rambunctious charge of the storm concealed our cast line of disruption. We
'
ve successfully foiled her primary talent. When her working through water failed to flag Dakar
'
s attention within the citadel, she deepened her trance and tried to reach Arithon s
'
Ffalenn by linked empathy. That channel lies past our means to befoul, however, that barrier posed us no set-back.
'

'
Elaborate!
'
interrupted the Koriani Prime, her clawed fingers twitching.
'
Was the song of the Paravian sword the factor that bought interference?
'

The prim seeress curtseyed.
'
Matriarch, yes. Elaira
'
s empathic call was overwhelmed by the cascading flow of harmonics. She can
'
t surmount the obstruction at distance. The male partner
'
s entrained focus must stay immaculate. Through her efforts, we
'
ve found that Arithon
'
s being sustains the conduit for the grand conjury. Even a master initiate
'
s sensitivity cannot pierce through the veils of Alithiel
'
s enchantment.
'

Prime Selidie tucked her maimed limbs under her purple mantle. Satisfaction warmed her, bone deep. Despite the day
'
s toll of surprise damages, she had recouped the footing to seize the high ground. At long last, the string of reverses unfolded in line with her careful plan: her quarry moved in lock-step towards his doom. Compassion incarnate, Arithon would stay on course with supreme endurance. Since the half-brother
'
s following fed upon fear and the impetus of their fixed hatred, the sword
'
s powers were pitched to dissolve the entanglements driving a curse-driven siege. To ensure Jeynsa
'
s safety, and seed hope for a peace that might spare Alestron
'
s clan sovereignty, Rathain
'
s prince must extend his prodigious reserves until talent and strength were played out.

'
How long before the tide changes to flood?
'
Prime Selidie asked the hovering subordinate.

'
Two hours past noon.
'
The ancient fluttered a dismissive hand.
'
The young captain at the harbour-side beacon can
'
t launch a boat to try crossing before then, though he
'
s grasped the stakes that spur Elaira. Once the current
'
s in favour, his men will have orders to row her across to the Sea Gate.
'

'
Straight into my net!
'
the Prime whispered, elated. The glittering strand that perfected her snare
required
that Elaira should spurn the sisterhood
'
s interests. Love must keep her bound to Arithon
'
s side. That irresistible, fatal attraction would tie his will at the citadel
'
s fall, and finally close the Koriani fist on the reins of his destiny.

While Selidie excused the older seeress to resume her vigilant post, movement at the pavilion
'
s entry presaged another disturbance. A sister broke protocol and shoved in without leave, barging over two protesting fourth-rank peeresses. Breathless, she argued that her breaking news carried imperative urgency.

'
Silence!
'
snapped Selidie.

The uproar cut off. Both indignant seniors stifled their rebuke.
'
Let me weigh the gravity of the offence,
'
the Prime said.
'
If, in fact, this mannerless claim proves to be a spurious impertinence!
'

The flushed miscreant curtseyed, knee bent to the floor in relief.
'
Matriarch, your will be done, this is no insignificant development
'

'
Come here, girl. Speak up!
'
Selidie measured the petitioner
'
s approach, not forgiving or lenient.
'
You
'
re the initiate assigned to review the inbound dispatch from our western lane watch? Then I gather the storm
'
s subsided enough to allow a transmission that
'
s not routine.
'

'
Yes, Matriarch.
'
Beneath the high dais, placed under the lofty vantage of the Prime
'
s chair, the second-rank seeress was properly fearful. Her water-stained hem betrayed trembling knees; her clenched fingers, rapt dread and excitement.
'
Forgive my presumption! But this news is momentous. The Fellowship Sorcerers have dared to flout history, and wakened the might of a dragon.
'

'
Ah!
'
Selidie barely stifled her triumphant shout.
'
When have the mighty been so sorely tried?
'
Her smile showed teeth.
'
Get on with your list, girl. Tell me our dragon-skull wards at Avenor have become the first drakish casualty!
'

The initiate seeress stared in blank shock.
'
Lysaer
'
s royal capital has been razed to the ground. No mercy was shown to the hapless inhabitants! Thousands have died. The injured and burned who survive have no shelter. More wander, lawless, sacking the hamlets, or crowding the byres and trade inns. They will face disease. Folk are desperate and starving, left with too little resource, and no store-sheds for grain, even if ships can bring relief help.
'

The bleak picture unfolded, beyond damning words: winter seas slowed the galleys. Supply would be hampered, with Havish
'
s ports closed off to Tysan
'
s chained oarsmen by crown decree. The distressed initiate fought for the composure to finish her daunting report. Though the courier
'
s relays are in disarray, some of our sisters already pack for emergency travel from Hanshire. They act to forestall sickness, since Lysaer
'
s examiner has fallen too hard on the local talent.
'
Few herbalists and trained healers remained to attend such a massive number of casualties.

Before Selidie
'
s calm, which displayed no shock over the horrific damages, the seeress lost courage and faltered.

The moment hung, sharp as etched light through a crystal, until a senior bearing five red bands of rank seized charge and inquired,
'
By your leave. Matriarch? Had you foreseen this might happen? Why weren
'
t we warned to prepare?
'

For the ugly conjecture held power to terrify: that the disaster caused by the hatchlings
'
remains had been no misfortunate accident. If Avenor had been purposefully exposed to such peril, then the wholesale destruction of Lysaer
'
s ruling seat had been seeded by a long-range design: a choice that harked back to Morriel Prime, the reigning Matriarch
'
s deceased predecessor.

Selidie surveyed the stunned sisters at hand, from the lowly grey robes who fetched and carried as drudges, to the eldest crones in their graded red bands of seniority. Ironic, that she, as the youngest of them, should be censured by their regard. Selidie
'
s iron nerve never flinched. Her control showed the glacial reserve that upheld her tradition of power. Her mantle was
ancient.
Far older than recent tenure on Athera, her responsibilities sank tap-roots into a past that once had spanned networks of starfaring empires: cultures more vast and varied than today
'
s sheltered underlings had wits to imagine.

BOOK: Stormed Fortress
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