'Army of knights approaching from the north!'
Maldeev's mind dashed frantically through denial, past the expected questions, and settled on acceptance. Obviously, the pathetically small company of knights from Lamesh had decided to launch an attack on Shalimsha. It would be a swift and easy slaughter, especially with the aerial support from his dragons.
Speaking of dragons, he recalled abruptly, he'd seen neither hide nor tooth of Jahet, nor any of the dragons. Maldeev angrily jammed his foot into his other boot. Where in the name of Takhisis were those greedy and undependable black beasts who were supposed to win the war for the Queen of Darkness?
Maldeev could scarcely believe how wrong things had gone in one short night. If he had any hope of righting them, he'd first have to reorganize his ragged troops. Then he'd find those dragons and kick their lazy hides from here to Neraka! With that pleasant thought propelling him, Maldeev charged from his apartments, headed for the stairway that led down to the courtyard. And the chaos.
Chapter 17
Studying the crumbling north wall of Shalimsha Tower, Sir Tate Sek-forde felt a momentary twinge of regret that it hadn't been possible to drag a catapult from Lamesh. Two or three well-placed boulders would have tumbled the remaining links in the wall like a child's set of wooden blocks. As it was, the fortress would be so ridiculously easy to breach, Tate never considered trying to batter down the central gate. The knight couldn't conceive of raising an army without repairing the outer curtain. He could only conclude that the man inside who called himself a highlord must be very arrogant to assume no one would attack him.
Tate's legion of soldiers, along with their baggage wagons, pack animals, and all the train of war, had marched over the parched land for four and a half days-thirty-three leagues in choking dust. At least it wasn't hot, thought Tate, just damnably dry. The knight was grateful enough for the rela shy;tive coolness. He was wearing his heavy plate mail, the only heirloom he'd taken from Castle DeHodge. Still, the constant clouds of dust didn't help the sore throat he'd woken with on the morning they were to set out. But he couldn't delay the march if they were to take advantage of the waxing moon. Tate was glad they hadn't. They'd marched the last three miles tonight in moonlight so bright it looked as if daylight's wick had simply been turned down. Now the sky was light shy;ening toward dawn; the time for attack had come.
'Sir Wolter,' Tate called to his sponsor, who was talking to some men-at-arms a short distance away. The stout, gray-haired knight nudged his horse next to Tate's. 'Take fifty knights, our best swordsmen, and get them into position near that big breach.' He pointed at the largest section of crum shy;bled wall, to the right of the north wall's arched wooden gate. 'Tell them to wait until Regist's archers have flanked them and picked off the few bowmen on the ramparts. Then send the knights in, led by a handful of crossbowmen who can shoot into the breach just before the charge. The crossbows can fall back after firing. Obviously, the attack will have to be made on foot. Find a place to shelter and tether the horses.'
'What about the dragons?' Welter's bushy gray eyebrows were raised.
'What about them?' snapped Tate. 'They're supposed to stay out of it, if that's what you're asking. Khoal said he'd be able to delay the other two evil dragons from joining the fight, if not keep them out of it entirely.'
'Let's hope we can trust the word of a traitor.'
Tate heaved a sigh. 'Look, I know what you think of my arrangement with the black dragons. Let me assure you, it's not a situation that I would have initiated. The dragon came to me, not I to him. How could I reject an opportunity to dis shy;able the Black Wing, the center of evil in this region? Isn't that why we came to the frontier?'
Wolter extended his hand as if to deflect an angry response. 'How do you know if s not a trap?'
'I consulted Wallens,' said Tate. The lord knight beckoned to a soldier with bookish eyes and a solemn face. 'Tell Sir Wolter what you've read in the ancient annals, what the order knows about the nature of black dragons.'
Sir Geoffrey Wallens lowered the hand from his brow to his saddle pommel, pausing briefly on the way to stroke his thin brown mustache. 'Black dragons are driven by greed, self-aggrandizement, and self-preservation, mostly in that order. They are evil, unpredictable, and unreliable. Unfortu shy;nately, sir, they are quite capable of breaking their bond to us, as they have to their own kind.'
Scowling, Tate waved the too-honest knight away. He gave the grim-faced elder knight an earnest look and directed his gaze to the crumbling walls. 'Come on, Wolter. If this is a trap, if s not a very good one. Why didn't they repair the walls? The dragon spoke truthfully about Shalimsha's layout-mountains with dragon lairs to the west, the north wall easily stormed. The chaos inside the compound looks genuine to me, too.' His brown eyes scanned the mauve, early-morning sky. 'I see no signs of dragons perched for attack, either.'
Sighing, Wolter peered about to make sure that only Tate could hear him. 'Look, lad,' he whispered, 'I understand you think you're doing what you must.' He shook his hel-meted head. 'Call me old-fashioned, but it just feels wrong to make a pact with creatures renowned for evil. I'm certain the Council of Knights wouldn't approve.'
Tate laughed without humor. 'They scarcely approve of me!' He grew suddenly serious. 'I truly believe there's no dishonor for the knighthood in this. I've prayed for months to Kiri-Jolith, and I have sensed no displeasure for the plan.'
Tugging up his gauntlets, Wolter managed a rueful smile. 'If you've spoken to your god, you shouldn't have to answer to a crotchety old knight like me.' He clapped his young friend on the shoulder. 'Now, if you don't mind, I've got some knights to assemble.' Wolter's well-worn plate armor disappeared in the throng of soldiers.
Tate's eyes followed him fondly, then slipped past to eval shy;uate the inside of the fortress. With any luck, they would soon be fighting there. He was surprised at how similar the layout of Shalimsha Tower was to Lamesh. There was no central keep here, either. Instead, the few buildings that had been repaired lined the inside walls, with a courtyard in the center. Must be a regional thing, Tate thought, since keeps were very common in Solamnia. He could see why the open courtyard would be an advantage for an army with dragons; a keep in the center of the courtyard would make it difficult for dragons to land.
Two years had passed since the fire had damaged Lamesh and destroyed part of the garrison's stockpiled grain. Tate had vowed by the end of that lean, hard winter to never eat another potato. He and his men had worked tirelessly to rebuild the burned sections so that they were better than before. News of their progress had spread to Solamnia; in the spring, fifty-two more young knights, eager for the chance for quick advancement, made their way to the frontier at Lamesh, further speeding up the reconstruction. That reinforcement also strengthened fate's troops to the point where he could field an army and still leave behind thirty men-at-arms with a handful of knights to defend Lamesh Castle. That was a small garrison, but the castle was strong and well situated.
Tate had been stunned, impressed despite himself, when he met his first dragon, the one who called himself Khoal. He'd been poring over some account ledgers on an early spring day, a tedious task he despised, when his adjutant ushered in a glassy-eyed farmer. Expecting to hear some complaint about the taxes, the lord knight was taken aback, to put it mildly, when the man calmly told him that he'd just met a black dragon.
'He was as nice as any creature you'd like to meet, and pretty. He wants you to meet him in the hills at sundown.'
Back in Solamnia, Tate had first heard the rumors of drag shy;ons returning. At Lamesh, he'd even spoken to several eye shy;witnesses who claimed to have seen black dragons flying in the area, and others who had encountered physical evidence on the ground. Obviously, the creatures were not allies of Good. The farmer showed definite signs of having been mag shy;ically charmed, for no one would call the first dragon he met, particularly a black one, 'nice.' Aside from being surprised, Tate was certainly intrigued. 'Why does this dragon wish to meet with me?'
'He said he has a business proposition.'
Tate had plied the farmer for more information; the man had favorable, but not particularly informative things to say about the creature who had bewitched him. Though Wolter strongly disapproved, Tate rode into the mountains at the appointed time with two other knights. They dressed in the full ceremonial armor and regalia of their order, as they would on any other diplomatic mission. His primary motiva shy;tion had been curiosity.
With the farmer as a guide, they had no difficulty getting to the rendezvous point. The spot was a shallow
