and set it running ahead of us, to scare everybody out of our way. We burst out into the cleared space behind the wall. Darling headed straight for a long ramp that had been put up so heavy engines could be dragged to the ramparts. She headed up it, making soldiers jump to get out of her way.
I told myself it had been an exciting past year and now it was time to die.
Soldiers scampered away as we hit the rampart. I glimpsed Limper walking toward Oar, all by his lonesome.
Darling made her mount rear and scream. She unfurled her vermilion banner with the white rose embroidered in silk.
Utter silence. The imperials gawked, petrified. Even the Limper stopped his implacable advance and stared.
Then the shriek of the eagle-it was an eagle!-ripped the air. The raptor came screaming down. Before it lighted on Darling’s shoulder, with what had to be bone-rattling impact, she pointed out at the land beyond the walls.
All heads turned. Three, five, six, seven, eight! The windwhales rose into the sky. Squadrons, troops, battalions of centaurs came cantering out of hiding, the drum of their hooves a continuous thunder despite the muting effect of the snow. Whole sections of woods started moving toward the city. Mantas began to slip off the backs of the windwhales, scouting for updrafts. More glided over the city from behind us, just to let the world know the place was surrounded.
Darling rose in her stirrups and surveyed her surroundings, searching for someone who did not agree that this was the day of the White Rose.
The snowfields erupted and talking stones began appearing, assuming posts along predetermined lines, forming the skeleton of a wall that would close the Limper in.
Damn me! The tree god must have started on the buildup clear back when we first hit Oar.
Darling settled into her saddle. She was pleased with herself. Everybody watched her for a cue, even the Limper.
Bomanz faced north, a resolute sentinel, never letting events behind him distract him from his watch for trouble. Silent remained as fixed on the wall to the south while Torque and I tried to keep a lookout everywhere at once. Bomanz said, “Case, tell her Exile is coming.”
I backed my horse till Darling could see my hands without having to surrender her attention for the Limper and her continuing dispositions. She nodded. I told her I had spotted Gossamer and Spidersilk sneaking around north and south of us, respectively. She nodded again, unperturbed.
Exile approached us at a normal walk, careful not to give offense before he understood the full scope of his predicament. I was surprised that he looked so young despite the fact that I had seen the Lady, who was at least four hundred and looked a well preserved twenty. I noticed the old guy who stuck me and Darling drifting along in Exile’s shadow.
Exile came up and looked the situation over. He showed no special response except to look at Gossamer and Spidersilk as if warning them to behave themselves.
He came to us. “Most impressive.” He did not look impressed. “You quite took me by surprise. I am Exile. Who are you, and who speaks for you?” Just a stranger chance met, making casual introductions.
Bomanz and Silent were busy. Torque still didn’t have the lingo so good. That left old Case. I was elected. “I’ll do the talking.” I indicated Darling. “The White Rose.”
“So I see.”
I didn’t figure on naming anybody else, but Bomanz decided I should. He said, “Bomanz. The Wakener.”
Exile showed a little surprise at that. Bomanz had a reputation. He was also supposed to be dead.
I indicated Silent. “Silent. Formerly of the Black Company. I’m Philodendron.” I didn’t name Torque. Seemed a good idea to leave something to nag on Exile’s imagination.
“I suppose you’re here for the same reason everyone else is?” He kept one eye on the Limper, I noticed. Right then the Limper was eyeballing the situation and counting up his options.
I signed at Darling. She signed back. I told Exile, “The silver spike. The tree god will not allow it to fall into the hands of anyone who wants its power. Whatever the cost.”
“So I see,” said Exile. It did look like the Plain had belched up all of every one of its weirdnesses. I wondered who was at home keeping the shop spooky. “That thing out there might have something to say about that to all of us.”
Darling signed some more. I said, “We will destroy it if you can’t. The tree has concluded that it has tormented itself and the world long enough. It will be destroyed.”
Exile started to say something but never got the chance. I reckon Limper heard us well enough to get pissed because everybody wanted to put him into the past tense.
He had something all ready to go. But as he was about to cut loose, Spidersilk beat him to the punch, hit him from the side and knocked him ass over appetite. His spell went screaming straight up, making a sound like the biggest bullroarer in the universe. Gossamer hit him from the other side. A missile storm pounded away at him. Glowing red balls arced in from the fields to the south and for the first time I noticed a group of black riders down there, all mounted on the nastiest-looking critters I’ve ever seen. I thought I recognized our old buddy Toadkiller Dog. When the red balls came down they hit the ground like a giant stomping, leaving steaming black holes pounded into the snow and the earth beneath.
Exile just stood there with his hands in his pockets, watching.
None of my bunch did anything either.
The Nightstalkers came marching into the cleared area behind the wall, all spit and polish, neatly in step, their band playing. They began taking over positions as though this was nothing more than a changing of the guard. Brigadier Wildbrand, all squeaky-clean, came marching up to report to Exile.
The uproar died down. Nobody had done much damage to the Limper. He hadn’t done any either.
Wildbrand glanced at us. I winked. That startled her, so I tried another trick, pixie that I am. “What you doing after work sweetie?”
She snubbed me. Not good enough for her, I guess. Just as well. She was too old for me.
A shadow fell on us all as she and Exile talked tactics. A granddaddy windwhale had moved into position overhead, not all that high up. I was impressed.
Exile and Wildbrand checked it out. He seemed the more perturbed. They went back to tactics. I glanced at the world outside. Limper was getting set to try something. The black riders had dismounted. Their steeds had disappeared. Toadkiller Dog was among the missing, too. The riders were walking closer. I noticed that talking stones, walking trees, and centaurs had gotten in behind them.
Limper charged the wall, a dark cloud forming around him. Everything cut loose again. And didn’t bother him at all. He jumped up and kicked the wall-and knocked a hole in it fifty feet wide. Exile joined the party, somehow pouring on an endless, torrential shower of fire.
Limper hadn’t much liked fire last time we saw him. He didn’t mind it now, except he had trouble seeing straight. He wanted to knock down the wall where we were. He hit it two more times, once to either side of us, then backed off to think about what to do next. Exile gave up with the flames. They hadn’t done much.
The Nightstalkers were busy repairing the gaps already.
I knew what I’d do next if I was the Limper. I’d prance through one of those breaches and start taking out my top enemies.
Being almost as smart as me, he figured it that way himself.
The snow was pretty torn up out there now but he strayed onto some virgin stuff while he was making up his mind which breach to charge. About fifty slimy green tentacles shot up out of it, glommed on to him, and started trying to pull him apart. The snow all around erupted. A whole pride of monsters piled on Limper. Toadkiller Dog got his head in his jaws and tried to bite it off. Something else shoved a hoof in his mouth so he couldn’t do no hollering. The people who had ridden those monsters ran toward the excitement.
Exile and the twins paid no attention. They faced the city now, making concerted, complex come-hither gestures. What looked like a flock of birds rose from deep in the city and headed our way. Close up I saw it wasn’t birds at all but lots of chunks of wood.
The flock settled outside the wall, neatly building a monumental pyre. Did they think they were going to roast Limper? They’d tried fire already.
