among all the general staff. Following the ramrod-straight line of her arm, Goughfree squinted into the fog, and finally saw what she saw.
Well back in the body of each of the four attacking columns, flanked by hairless, slate gray lumpenkin more massive of body than their taller, blonder counterparts, and attended by bird-things that sported quills instead of feathers and spatulate beaks lined with fine, needle-like teeth, was a wizard. In lieu of lustrous, flowing robes, the Four Warlocks of the Totumakk were clad in black cowls spattered with crimson paint intended to simulate flowing blood. Other than their attire, they were alike only in the evil they served up and dispensed.
One had four arms that picked invisible somethings from the air and flung them in the direction of the defending troops. Another was bloated and porcine, while a third was so squashed and profuse of jowl as to appear bodiless, as if its legs were growing right out of the bottom of its neck. The fourth, who was sorcerously assisting the assault on the Salmisti Bridge, wore a high, fat red cap the same color as its bulbous nose. Thin white wire spectacles rode that protuberant organ, while pointed teeth protruded forward and out from a slightly underslung lower jaw. The creature was reading from a handful of papers, reciting in detail those spells it had not wholly committed to memory.
In addition to sustaining the nefarious, necromantic shields that protected the advancing hordes from the effects of the Shandrac Thunder, the four warlocks called down burning sulfur and white-hot phosphorus on the defenders of the city. Small snapping fish fell among the archers and crossbowmen, while biting, stinging insects bedeviled the waiting cavalry.
As the spell-invigorated enemy threw itself against bulwark after bulwark, high on the city wall a worried Chaupunell and Zisgymond caucused with Goughfree.
'Our soldiers are brave and determined.' Along with the rain, lines of concern streaked General Zisgymond's noble face. 'But they cannot fight incantations. Hexes do not bleed.' He gestured toward the wall, in the direction of battle. 'Already the defenders of the Salmisti and Hidradny Bridges are being forced back to the towers. If these fall, the enemy will enter the city. Soon thereafter, they will be here, laying siege to the castle itself.'
'Look at our people, suffering and dying beneath that which they cannot understand.' Confidence could be seen slipping from Chaupunell's face, like a party mask whose strap had broken. 'They fight on, but their morale is degenerating rapidly. Something must be done! Where are our own magicians?'
'Conferencing, or so I am informed. Trying to decide how best to counter this unexpected assault.'
Chaupunell's face was set with concern as he surveyed the field of battle. 'We cannot wait for bickering oldsters to agree upon a course of action. We must do something now.'
'Do you not think I am aware of this?' Goughfree was as troubled as any of them. 'We must find a way to stop the necromancers who are leading the attack, or at the least, find a means of reducing their influence.' He called to several nearby couriers, who stood waiting for orders. 'Inform those commanding the defenses of the Salmisti, Breleshva, Hidradny, and Zhisbrechar Bridges that they are to hold their towers at all costs. In twenty minutes we will launch a coordinated counterattack, with cavalry, at all four points.' As supreme commander of the city's defense, it was within his provenance to issue such an order. He turned to the rest of the general staff.
'I want the best archers not engaged in the immediate defense of the bridges to be formed into four squads. Each is to be escorted by heavy cavalry. When the counterattack begins, they are to be rushed forward in chariots. They must penetrate the enemy lines and kill the four warlocks, or at least cause them to retreat from the field of battle. If they can do that, I think the enemy, whose confidence has presently been restored by unnatural means, will break.' He indicated the castle keep behind them. 'I have the utmost respect for our own learned scholars, but we cannot wait for them to concur.'
It was a sound plan, the best that could be propagated under the circumstances. Even the weather must have thought it auspicious, for when the massive counterattack began, the rain turned to a light mist that was to the benefit of the waiting archers.
The Horde was hit hard. Heavy cavalry from Blest-on-Yoor and the Kingate of Hrushpar slammed into the enemy, trampling those in front, stunning those behind, and bringing the assault on the Salmisti, Zhisbrechar, and Hidradny Bridges to a shocked halt in front of the defensive towers. Only on the bridge of Breleshva did the counterattack slow and begin to falter. Narrowest of the four main bridges that spanned the Drimaud, it offered the least room for heavy horse to maneuver.
Furthermore, the attackers there were led by the wizard of the bloated red cap. Strewing balls of orange flame in front of the counterattacking cavalry, he blinded the horses while the enemy Horde surrounded them and, one by one, brought down their armored riders. Urged forward by their bloodthirsty brethren behind, those attackers in front succeeded in pushing past and over the defenders, leaving chariot-borne archers and steel-clad cavalry bobbing behind like boats trapped in a churning back-eddy at the bend of a river.
A bleak-visaged Goughfree turned away from the unsettling scene. Though he carried the sword slung at his side primarily for reasons of ceremony he now knew that it was soon to be employed in more prosaic pursuits.
'The tower of the Breleshva Bridge is breached, and the enemy is entering the city.'
Zisgymond took a step backward. 'With your permission, General, I go to take personal charge of the defenses there. There is a chance we can keep them bottled up in the Plistina District. Fighting house to house, street to street, we can prevent them from flanking and taking any of the other bridges from behind.'
That was the great strategic danger, of course. Once across the river, the enemy would be able to fan out and attack the defenders of the other bridges from the rear. This posed the danger of the city's defenses collapsing completely. Of course, the castle and the plains beyond could still be defended, but glorious, beautiful Kyll-Bar- Bennid, city of elegant avenues and a thousand spires, would be lost to pillage and destruction. It was a scenario that threatened to break Goughfree's heart.
They could only pray for the success of Zisgymond's efforts. If anyone could mount a successful counterattack under such rapidly developing desperate circumstances, it was the senior officer from far Xolchis.
Zisgymond had been gone for only a few moments when a courier arrived, breathless and excited. Her expression bespoke good news, a commodity that had been sorely lacking since that morning's sodden sunrise. Whatever it was, Goughfree knew, it did not involve the struggle below. Warriors of the Horde continued to pour through the captured Breleshva tower, fanning out into the city streets behind. Already, tongues of flame and the shadows of smoke from other incipient blazes could be seen rising from homes and businesses that the Totumakk had begun to put to the torch.
Still, any good news was welcome. Absently, he acknowledged the courier's salute. 'Yes, what is it?' Perhaps a prediction of worse weather to come, he hoped. A heavy downpour might help to slow the enemy's alarmingly swift advance.
The courier swallowed as she struggled to catch her breath. She was very young, Goughfree saw, and quite attractive. No time for such fond contemplations now, he reminded himself sternly.
'Noble s-sirs,' she gasped as droplets of mist pearled her exhausted face, 'the convocation of the Gowdland mages has deferred all action upon receiving word that Susnam Evyndd has just entered the city!'
TWO
Goughfree's eyes widened. For him, this amounted to a shout of exultation. Other members of the general staff were not so restrained. Their reactions to this news ranged from a throwing of arms joyously into the air to one colonel who fell to his knees, overcome with emotion.
The few wizards of the Gowdlands who had been recruited for the defense of the city had so far been unable to come up with a coordinated response to the attacks of the Horde. Throughout the battle, they had remained huddled within the castle keep, casting runes and seeking otherworldly inspiration. Now the news that the greatest of them all, the most celebrated and distinguished master of the necromantic arts in all the known kingdoms, was inside the city should serve to strengthen the spines of soldier and scholar alike.
It did not mean he was there to help, Goughfree cautioned himself, but it was hard to imagine why else he might have come. Surely he had not journeyed all the way to Kyll-Bar-Bennid simply to witness and observe its destruction!
