“It’s just as well,” Mikahl said to himself. “Against a foe like this it might be better to die sooner.”
He glanced down at the western gate to his right. The heavy banded portal was closing. Dwarves, a few elven swordsmen and most of the soldiers Lord Gregory had sent were forming up in lines to meet the cloud of evil that was closing on them.
The sun was low in the western sky, giving the approaching beasts long, imposing shadows.
Having learned about night fighting in the long battles that were fought right here, four-keg pyramids of flammable oil, three in a triangle with one on top, had been stacked at intervals out beyond the walls. Flaming spears would be launched into them later to give the archers light by which to aim.
Mikahl wished Hyden were here. He expected him to be. Even young Phen would have been a great boon. The boy would have already researched what there is to know about the dark army. He would know the weaknesses and strengths of each particular creature, and be full of suggestions that might tilt the battle in the right direction. As it was, Mikahl held little hope of surviving the night. His plan was to seek out the leader of this foul army and end it. He and Ironspike would cleanse themselves of the rage he felt over Rosa’s death. He would do his very best to avenge her and his unborn child. It was all he knew to do. Since the day he took the king’s sword from Father Petri and started into the Giant Mountains, the realm had been fighting one war or another. He was no king; he was a swordsman, and he had every intention of finding the limits of his skill as such. He resolved to die fighting, for that’s what fighters do.
None of the wizards could reach Hyden Hawk, the giants in Afdeon, or even Phen. Learning from Dieter Willowbrow that most of the elves had perished in the Evermore gave Mikahl little reason to hope for his friends.
If he had known that Queen Mother Telgra’s arboreal magic was shielding out the attempts to contact Phen, and that they and a few hundred elven soldiers were quickly approaching from the north, he might have felt the need for some restraint. As it was, he was resigned to kill or be killed by the dark, malignant thing that had taken his wife and child from the world. Even now, as he scanned the battleground and the disheveled ranks of the enemy’s charge, he couldn’t help but search for the Warlord. He was anxious to get on with it, no matter what the outcome might be.
Queen Willa took the news of Queen Rosa’s death hard. She had been instrumental in arranging the marriage and had a strong maternal affection for Mikahl. She’d welcomed him into her arms earlier, in her private chambers, and let him cry out his sorrow against her bosom. She smothered his hair and rocked him as his own mother might have done long ago. After he recovered, she got the sense that he was in a reckless mood. This frightened her. She understood the power of the enemy and knew that if Mikahl were lost, then so was Ironspike’s might. Without Ironspike’s power to defend the Wardstone, the Warlord would soon do more than a open few doorways into the Nethers; he would tear the boundary wide open.
After consoling Mikahl, she gathered her wizards and commanders and explained that the heroes of the previous years couldn’t be found. Sir Hyden Hawk Skyler was unaccounted for, his powerful warning sent from somewhere deep in the Giant Mountains. King Jarrek, the old Red Wolf warrior, was being held prisoner by his own men in a mine shaft in the Wilder Mountains. They were holding him to keep him from raging into the Dark Lord’s host with no army behind him.
Queen Willa smiled internaly at the thought of him. She loved King Jarrek. They’d grown closer over the last few visits. She was pleased that his men had the sense to keep his temper and his fierce pride from getting him killed. His bravery had always outweighed his good sense.
She went on to explain that Phen was off with Hyden Hawk. She called him Marble Boy instead of using his name, because no one knew who Phen was, but everyone from Portsmouth to Jenkanta knew who Marble Boy was.
General Spyra was now Lord Spyra, and too far away to be of any assistance. The dwarven general who had so cleverly orchestrated the sinking of Seareach to save Castlemont from King Ra’Gren’s assault was in the Wilder Mountains with King Jarrek.
“The High King stands with us,” she told them. “But he has lost his wife and unborn heir to this evil foe. He is distraught and may prove unpredictable. He will be prone to vengeance.” She paused and took a deep breath. “It will be no easy task, but he and Ironspike must be protected at all times.”
“This is the time for new heroes,” she said. “We must not falter against the darkness, for if we do, we may never see the light again. Rally your men. The creatures they will face are terrifying to look upon. They are unnatural things that should never have found the light of day. If nothing else, you must give your men encouragement and hope. Master Wizard Feist says that the Warlord leading this host is most formidable, but without him the creatures that make up this horde will lose the power of purpose. This thing that commands the others must be our main target. Outside of defending the city and protecting the High King, killing the Dark Lord is what must be done.” She raised her hands and smiled as if she knew they could win. “I say rally your men. Prepare them well, for the dark host will be upon us this night.”
As the commanders and wizards left her to carry out her orders, the alarm bells sounded. The harrumph of dwarven battle horns filled the air, as did the ringing of bells in the towers. The city was so crowded with panicked people and herd animals that most of the commanders couldn’t get back to their troops in time to command them. The more powerful of the wizards teleported to the wall top and began spreading the word, but already the battle had begun in earnest.
Queen Willa returned to her private chamber hoping to have a word with Mikahl before the battle began, but he was already gone. In his place was Master Wizard Sholt, all the way from Westland, and lying on the divan was Queen Rosa. The rise and fall of her chest was obvious and the soft snore that accompanied the movement left no room to doubt that she was alive and whole.
“She’s alive,” Queen Willa gushed, feeling a tidal wave of relief wash over her. She turned to Sholt, “But how?”
Master Wizard Sholt shook his head in confusion. “What do you mean? Was her safety ever in doubt?”
Queen Willa gasped, covering her open mouth with her hand. “Mik thinks the Warlord killed her when he came out of the Nethers.”
Sholt was silent for a few long moments. From outside, the distinct clanging of bells and the tiny shouts of men came to the room. As soon as Mikahl had given him the order to sound the alarm, Sholt had teleported to the garden yard to try to save young Suza from the same fate De’Rain met. The sounding of alarms was a simple kinetic spell. He didn’t tell a man to ring the bells. He rang them magically and went directly to his students. He found Queen Rosa frozen in shock. She had blood spattered across her chest and was so close to the hellborn beast that was crawling out of the gateway that Sholt had no other choice but to protect the queen. He grabbed her and teleported them from the garden yard to an empty, snow-covered field just south of Lord Able’s abandoned stronghold. The casting had cost him most of his strength. Spell weary and somewhat in shock himself, he checked and found that the queen wasn’t wounded and led them through the snow to the crumbled tower. A few rooms were still intact, and with the rest of his strength he set a magical fire to blaze and slipped into a deep slumber.
“I don’t know why he would think such a thing,” Sholt finally said to Queen Willa. “There was a small girl there in the yard, and Rosa’s handmaiden was down. Maybe he…”
“She was wearing my green dress,” Rosa whispered. Neither the wizard nor Queen Willa had noticed that her snoring had stopped. “That thing crushed her and nearly twisted her in two. I was wearing that dress when Mikahl saw me that morning.” Rosa got to her feet and ran the few steps from the divan into Queen Willa’s arms. “She was just trying it on so we could get the hem the right length,” she cried. “He must be horribly sad. He was so pleased about the baby, and now he thinks…”
“He’s more than sad, dear,” Queen Willa said. She was relieved. Mikahl wouldn’t rage off into an unsurvivable situation if he knew that his wife and child were still alive.
“Master Wizard Sholt.” Even though Queen Willa was no longer his liege, she commanded him with total authority. “As soon as you have told the High King that his wife and child are here safe, that he must fight with some restraint, then you should rest.” She gave her old castle wizard a look that was insistent. “Those magi serving on the wall will want and need your guidance now, but your strength will be more valuable when they have grown weary and you have recouped. King Mikahl, though, must be told this news immediately.”
Queen Rosa lifted her head from Willa’s shoulder and sobbed. Sholt had teleported the two of them more
