find out if these cleric-knights can be any kind of real asset to this army.”
The white wizard’s face went pale and her eyes moist as she watched another company, mostly young swordsmen from the northern plains, march past. They were singing a battle song, though several of the soldiers- mere boys, really-looked almost faint with fear.
“War is such a terrible business,” Coryn said, a catch in her voice.
“Yes. We’ll lose a lot of men,” Jaymes said. “But by hitting them in so many places at once, I expect we’ll find a chink in Ankhar’s defenses somewhere. Once we find that chink, the knights will pour through.”
“But Solanthus is still nearly fifty miles away,” the wizard pointed out.
“We’ll march as fast as we can. One column, a steel fist that will smash any of Ankhar’s defenders out of the way.”
“Even so, it will be costly,” she said quietly.
“What would you have me do?” he demanded, his tone growing sharp. “We’re bound by certain restrictions- and the speed an army can march is one of them!”
“Dammit!” she snapped back. Her dark eyes bored into his for a moment until she sighed and looked away, turning toward the east. “Yes, you’re right. I’m angry at myself-all this bloodshed.”
“It ’s a fact we must deal with it and move on.” He grimaced and shook his head. “I do wish we knew more about this monster, this king of the elementals. If I could see it, observe it, I would have a better grasp on how we might make war against it.”
“There is one thing we can try,” Coryn said. She sounded strangely hesitant, and when she looked at the marshal, her eyes had softened. There was fear, there, but it wasn’t fear of danger or death.
“What’s that?” Jaymes looked away, studying the troops as a company of horse archers trotted passed.
She bit her lip nervously then spoke. “I could try to teleport you into the city. You would have a chance to do something there that no one else can do because no one else possesses your courage… or your sword.”
“Are you suggesting Giantsmiter could slay this elemental king?”
“No, not slay it. I doubt that anything can slay it-it would be like trying to kill the very essence of the world. But I have been reading a great deal of history. The gist of it is that your sword was created by Vinas Solamnus, but he had the help of a mighty wizard. It might just help you to learn something crucial about the elemental, to discern some weakness, some way we might banish it back to its lower plane.
“By pointing your sword at the being and staring into its eyes, you might be able to read its mind. It’s a dangerous strategy-reading the thoughts of other beings is a frightening experience under the best of circumstances. But if you can stand before the elemental and study it while you point your sword at it, it is possible you could perceive some weakness, some frustration of the beast that you might be able to exploit.”
“If it doesn’t kill me first,” he noted.
“If it doesn’t kill you first, right,” Coryn agreed.
“And how do I go about this?”
“You must stand before the creature. And try to get a look at its eyes, drawing the monster to look at you. If you concentrate, listen carefully, you’ll get a sense of its intentions, its fears.”
“I’ll try,” he said without hesitation. “My generals can command their wings and win this battle. I myself will go to Solanthus and find the elemental,” he said. “Can you send me?
“It’s not quite that simple,” she demurred. “You know about the Cleft Spires, of course?”
“The big split mountain, in the middle of Solanthus? Sure.”
“Well, it is a rock with powerful magical properties. Ever since the siege began, the wizards of the city have used it to block teleportation magic. This is to prevent Ankhar’s Thorn Knights from sneaking into the city or sending assassins, saboteurs, and the like into its midst. Their magic makes it more complicated to send you there.”
“Is there any way around their magic?”
“I think I can circumvent it, when the white moon is high. Solinari is full tonight, so I will send you when he reaches his zenith in the skies. Perhaps you want to get some sleep first.”
“My troops aren’t sleeping tonight; I won’t either. But that will give me time to write out orders, send detailed plans to the generals.”
“Very well,” Coryn said. “I’ll prepare the spell. And I’ll enchant your ring, the one I gave you years ago. You will have one teleport spell, so you can get out of the city when you’ve accomplished your mission.”
“I thought you said teleportation doesn’t work in Solanthus?”
She shook her head, like a tutor impatient with a slow-learning pupil. “The barrier keeps people from teleporting in. There is no restriction on leaving-in fact, I have been visited by wizards who have come from the city. It’s one way I’m able to keep aware of what’s happening there.”
“All right. Let’s do as you say, then.”
Twelve hours later, all but the last remnants of the army had abandoned the camp on the west bank of the Vingaard. The troops were advancing toward their planned crossings under the milky light of a full white moon. Jaymes stood alone in that same moonlight, and Coryn calculated the passage of time.
Finally, she cast the spell. Magic swirled around Jaymes Markham. He felt the pull of the magic, a world whooshing past. He saw the walls of Solanthus and recognized the Cleft Spires outlined in the cold moonlight. Disorienting sensations surrounded him, surging through his gut, dizzying him so much that he could barely see. He sensed the nearness of his obstacle and wanted to reach out and bring himself to ground in the city.
But there was a barrier! Strong magic reared before him, pushed him back, and screened the city from his sight, his reach. Finally the spell sizzled away, and he found himself standing on uneven, rocky ground. There was no source of light to illuminate the utter darkness, so for a few breaths he didn’t move. He groped with his other senses.
The air was cool, still, and very damp. It penetrated his sweaty tunic and chilled him to the bone. Somewhere nearby water dripped, a musical plink-plink amplified by the lack of any other noise, save for his own increasingly ragged breathing.
No wind. One eternal sound… and that penetrating cold. He knew at once:
Coryn had teleported him some place under the ground.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Everywhere around him was pitch darkness, a cold and lightless void that utterly engulfed the lord marshal. Jaymes heard a terrible hissing in his ears and only vaguely realized it was the pulsation of his own blood, impelled by the heightened hammering of his heart. A sudden wave of vertigo swept over him, and he staggered, trying to regain his balance, but his foot stumbled over a jutting rock, and he fell to his hands and knees.
His fingers felt rough rocks, some of them loose and crumbling, as small as gravel, and others that seemed to be part of the bedrock of what was obviously some kind of cavern. His right knee throbbed where it had landed on a jagged stone, and he clutched the ground like a drowning man clinging to a raft. Bile surged in his throat, but the warrior forced it back down and clenched his jaws, forcing his breathing to slow.
“Where am I?” he demanded of the darkness, the words a bare whisper of sound passing through his parched lips.
“ I’m somewhere under the Garnet range,” a voice said. “The question is, how did you get here?”
The voice came from behind him and though the tone was friendly, the mere presence of the speaker was enough to startle Jaymes. He whirled around, pushed himself into a crouch, straining to see some sign-any sign-of the other person. Unfortunately, the rough ground proved his undoing again, and his feet slipped out from under him, dropping him unceremoniously onto his rump.
“Who’s there?”
This time the reply was only a sharp, scraping sound, followed immediately by a flaring of light. The brightness was a searingly painful sensation, blinding him every bit as effectively as had the previous darkness. Jaymes closed his eyes against a yellow brilliance that was like staring right into the sun. He raised his hand to screen his face.
