understand that too.”
“It was not the defiance of me; it was the refusal to work toward the great future of our nation! This refusal cannot be allowed to stand!”
“I give you my promise. I understand, and I will work hard to make sure that the people of my city understand as well. But you must- please, you must! — stop the destruction while there is still some of the keep left standing!”
Jaymes closed his eyes and pressed his hands to his temples. The sun was cresting the eastern horizon, and he suddenly felt very tired. He couldn’t stand the thought of another explosion from the bombard. He wanted to believe Marrinys.
And so he did believe her.
“Very well,” he said. “The bombardment will halt. You can return to Vingaard, and bear your father’s body with you. My officers and I will arrive to accept your capitulation in two hours.”
Ankhar had good reason to be pleased. He had recruited a splendid army, with every savage warrior pledged to serve and obey the half-giant and his interpretation of the Truth. The great column had marched back and forth throughout Lemish, growing in numbers as it accrued from every tribe, every town and village. Eagerly the savage citizens of the barbarian lands gave him tribute, feted him and his legion, contributed more and more volunteers to his ranks.
He noticed with some surprise that his belly, the lumpy gut that had bulged over his belt, had grown flat and lean again. His legs had been weary, his feet sore during the first week of marching, but finally they were muscular and strong, sturdy as tree trunks. Even his mind seemed quicker. Pond-Lily flattered him continually, gushing about his prowess-in all endeavors-and he began to feel like a godlike champion once more.
Moving north and east, Ankhar even recruited from some of the restless ogre bands on the borderlands of Throtl-he had never used them as troops before, but they knew of his reputation and were eager to believe his promises of pillage, of riches and slaves. The young bulls were drawn from far and wide. Thousands upon thousands swelled his following. And, with Pond-Lily standing to one side and Laka on the other, Ankhar sat upon a great chair and reviewed his recruits. And he was pleased.
They were heading back to the west, coming up against the foothills of the Garnet Range. The half-giant relished the smell of the wind blowing down from the high country, for it bore the scents he had known all his life. The ogress Pond-Lily had followed him uncomplainingly for all of their long march, and Ankhar felt generous and expansive as they came into those familiar, sweet-smelling hills. He hugged the ogress to his side with his brawny left arm, threw back his head, and bellowed in exultation.
“Est Sudanus oth Nikkas!” he roared, waving his emerald-tipped spear over his head. He was heartened by the great swelling of cheers from the ogres and hobgoblins who marched in the long, undulating file behind Pond- Lily, Ankhar, and Laka.
“You are remembering your first home, now.” Laka cackled. “But you are a mighty king and can make a home anywhere in the world you choose.”
“There are few places better than these mountains,” Ankhar reflected.
“Bah!” Laka scolded. “Many places better! You just need better army to take them.”
“How? Where can I get better army?” bristled the big half-giant, dropping Pond-Lily-who recovered with surprising grace, bouncing only a couple of times-as he turned to the withered, fiercely grinning shaman.
Ankhar gestured to the column of warriors, dominated by teeming numbers of hulking, muscle-bound ogres, which spread out through the light forest in the shade at the mountain range’s base, extending as far behind him as Ankhar could see. “More ogres than ever! See the big bulls! How many tribal chiefs have I? More than anyone!”
Laka merely smiled smugly and squinted at the sky. “Look,” she said, pointing to a circling eagle.
Puzzled, the half-giant observed the bird. The huge raptor wheeled and banked, gliding easily on the mountain updrafts. Barely moving those graceful wings, the eagle serenely tilted back and forth, watching the valley floor with deceptively casual interest. It soared with a freedom and majesty Ankhar could only envy.
A dozen rabbits, flushed by the activity of the encamping army, bounced through the grass, racing for the protection of the woods on the slope. The eagle tucked its wings and plummeted like a stone, coming down on the back of a large hare, breaking its neck with the force of the strike. Proudly the bird sailed upward, tearing at the warm flesh with its sharp beak.
“See how that eagle strikes… from the air? Kills quickly… by surprise?”
“Yes, I see!” Ankhar retorted in exasperation. “Of course it flies! It has wings!”
“Your army would fight better if it could fly,” Laka noted.
Ankhar snorted indignantly. “And I could kill you with my breath if I was a dragon! But I am not a dragon. And my army cannot fly!”
“But what if you were to find some warriors, some flying warriors, who would join you in your glorious battles?”
“That fly like dragons, you mean? Where are warriors such as this?”
“There are some. They are not far away.”
“Did you dream about these flying warriors?” he asked suspiciously. He had been exposed to many great and terrible things in the past as a direct result of Laka’s dreams, so he didn’t want to discount her suggestion out of hand. But neither was he willing to embrace the inevitable risks, at least not until he learned more. He would ask some questions, require some persuasion!
“Yes, I did,” she replied triumphantly. “And I know where you can find them.”
“Flying warriors?” he mused. They would be useful, to be sure. Face an enemy cowering behind a wall? Bah! Let them form a line of pikes? Hah!
That was enough thinking for the half-giant. “All right, we go,” he said. “Pond-Lily, you stay here.”
“Yes, my lord,” said the ogress, bowing meekly.
And so it was, three days later, that the hulking half-giant and his frail, withered hobgoblin stepmother made their way high into a remote valley of the Garnet range. Ankhar left his army behind because Laka had assured him the warriors they sought would flee into hiding at the sight of a barbarian horde approaching.
His prospective allies remained utterly mysterious in Ankhar’s mind, and he grew tired and weary of the new quest prompted by his stepmother. While he loved the mountains, he had forgotten how hard it could be to walk up and up and up for days at a time. He even missed Pond-Lily, who-despite her mental shortcomings-had a way of making the long, cold nights a good deal warmer and shorter. Footsore and grumpy, he was working up his courage to challenge Laka when he was distracted by a shape that dived from a nearby cliff, swooped past his head, and landed on the trail before him.
Great pale wings spread from the scaly shoulders of the creature, which snarled at him and Laka, opening a pair of tooth-filled, crocodilian jaws. And then it stood on its hind legs and drew a short steel sword from a leather belt.
“Stop!” it hissed. “And be afraid!”
Ankhar, in truth, had been badly startled by the creature’s appearance. It was a draconian, he noted at once, but of a type that was larger than any draconian he had ever seen previously. Furthermore, the draconian had a broad set of wings that spread much wider than the atrophied leathery flaps that allowed the standard example of the species to glide short distances while preventing true flight.
The creature was silvery white in color and almost as tall as the gaping half-giant. The hissing growls that issued from the draconian’s maw were indeed frightening, and its flapping wings made it look even larger than it really was.
But the thing was not as tall as Ankhar-nor, he felt certain, was it as strong or fierce. The half-giant’s surprise changed to anger and insult, and he lowered his spearhead, brandishing the emerald stone at his challenger’s chest.
“Who are you to tell me to be afraid?” he demanded.
“I am Gentar-chief of the sivaks!” snapped the draconian, hissing, growling, and spitting.
Only then did Ankhar realize that other draconians were settling to the ground all around them. Within moments he and Laka were surrounded by more than a dozen of the creatures, each of whom was some nine feet tall-taller than a bull ogre-and continuously flapping their great, powerful wings. Others remained in the air, wheeling and circling, like bats. They flew with grace and power, and wore bands of leather strapped across their
