the mound it was on to boost it to exceptional heights. An array of towers sprung out of a central keep, a circular one that twisted and rose, almost like a spiral rising into the sky. The tallest towers were high above the rest of the castle, one ranging far above the other, the two of them clinging together for support, like a child leaning upon a parent to walk. The whole thing seemed like an unnatural mountain, rising alone above a flat earth.
The city that lay in the shadow of Vernadam was visible by that time; a town that had sprung up around the foot of the hill, with no tall buildings, only three-story shops and dwellings clustered around a central square and tightly packed streets. Cyrus estimated that no more than a hundred thousand might live there, perhaps more if they were not particular about the amount of space each family had.
Cyrus rode at the front of their procession, with Longwell at his side. They passed all manner of people, horses and carts, all moving aside so the army of Sanctuary could pass.
It was a mile outside of town that a rider on the back of a stallion approached them. His navy armor was almost a perfect match for Longwell’s, down to the surcoat with the Lion insignia, though he was considerably wider than the dragoon in both shoulder and belly. A wide smile broke out on the man’s face as he got close enough for them to see. “Hail, Sir Samwen Longwell,” he said in a deep voice as he approached.
“Hail, Sir Odau Genner,” Longwell said, lips curling into a smile. “What news from Vernadam?”
Sir Odau Genner brought his horse into the formation alongside Longwell’s. “We sent Teodir to find you months ago. We’d begun to worry he was lost along the way.”
“He is with us,” Longwell said. “I came as soon as word reached me, and I have brought …” Longwell raised an arm and gestured to the army behind him, “… a few friends with me to heed my father’s call.”
“Indeed you have,” Odau said with a broad grin. “We had heard you were coming with a force weeks ago from our spies afield, that you had crossed the border with western magicians and knights and footmen, but I scarce believed it until I saw it with my own eyes through the spyglass atop the tower only an hour ago. Your timing could not be more fortuitous.”
“It goes poorly, then, the fight against Syloreas?” Longwell’s face drew up, muscles contracting.
“We are but days from defeat, total and wretched, like the conquests of old-though the Kingdom does not know it yet.” Odau Genner pointed north, and Cyrus looked in the direction indicated. “The army of Syloreas is encamped a day’s ride from here. We will meet them in battle the day after tomorrow, in a final defense.” Odau looked at Longwell with undisguised relief. “Our defeat was virtually assured before your arrival. They have a knight with them, a westerner, and his power is fearsome. He and his compatriots have won every battle for Syloreas, their mere presence sends our dragoons and footmen onto edge and they retreat far more easily than they should given their numbers.”
“This is poor news,” Longwell said. “Odau, this is my general, Cyrus Davidon. It was through his offer of assistance I came to be joined by all these souls willing to traverse the divide between our lands. Cyrus, this is Odau Genner, a dear friend and knight of my father’s.”
“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Odau,” Cyrus said. “How can we help? Do you need us at the front?”
“I am pleased to meet you as well,” Odau said with a nod to Cyrus. “You are not needed at the front at this moment. It is essentially agreed between King Longwell and Briyce Unger that we will meet in battle on the day after tomorrow in the fields north of the Forest of Waigh. When we sighted you from the watchtower,” Odau said with a smile, “your father gave immediate orders for a feast to be put on, with a banquet in the town for your men after their long journey. Your high officers are invited to break bread with the King in the castle, to discuss the battle, if you are amenable, and to be well taken care of after your long journey. He offers his full hospitality to both you and your army.”
“A generous offer,” Longwell said. “My father’s full hospitality comes rarely, and I suspect his current predicament accounts for much of it. Lose the battle and his Kingdom is lost, so why not open the coffers and wine cellars wide in hopes that we can turn the tides of fortune back to his favor, eh?”
“I think that might have been his intention,” Odau said with a grin. “He said something about ‘showing your men such a time that they’ll want to fight harder for this Kingdom than our own will.’”
“Goodness. Well, that should keep the doxies well paid,” Longwell said. “Are you to ride back with us or are you here only to deliver his message?”
“I’ll only need signal him to give your assent,” Odau said, “and then I can guide you into town. Your men will be billeted in the village, each a bed of his own-”
“We have some women in our ranks as well,” Cyrus interrupted, causing Odau to start. “I trust they’ll be provided for as well.”
“Uh … ah …” Odau stammered. “If they’re of your army, I trust we can find a place for them as well, though obviously that is not our custom and it perhaps will take a bit of adjustment-”
“We’ll try to make it easy on you,” Cyrus said. “But if you could make sure they receive the same good treatment, that would be very helpful.”
Cyrus could see the tension on Odau’s face. “We will … make every effort to accommodate them. I’m certain that we’ll find them lodgings to their satisfaction. If you gentlemen will follow me …”
They rode onto the city’s main street to find cheering crowds on the corners. Curious children and adults pushed each other aside (more the adults pushing each other and the children trying to squeeze their way to the front for a better view) to get a look at the army of Sanctuary. Cyrus looked at the attire of the peasantry and found it much the same as he would have seen in Reikonos, though of different fabrics and styles.
They came to the main square of the city and halted, Odau holding up a hand to stop them. “This is where we leave your army. Our men are already working to clear accommodations for them, and they’ll be working at it for some time. However, the lodgings for your officers are ready at the castle, and we have food and drink waiting for you. If you’d care to join me-”
“Give me a moment,” Cyrus said and turned Windrider around. “Odellan,” Cyrus said, and the elf made his way through the horse ranks to him. “You’ll see to the army and make certain everyone gets food and lodging?”
“Aye, sir,” Odellan said. “You can count on me; I’ll not rest until they’re taken care of, every one.”
“Tell them to have fun,” Cyrus said, “but make certain they understand that they’ll need to keep themselves in line. I have no problems with them enjoying whatever sort of recreation they can find-honorably, of course-but I want no angry complaints from the local populace. That means keep the drinking to a manageable level, and make sure they’re all in bed at a reasonable hour. We’ll likely be marching by midday tomorrow, so let them know that.”
Odellan hesitated, the slightest grimace on his face. “You don’t wish to address the troops yourself, sir?”
Cyrus looked around the square; the noise was already overwhelming, and the army was strung out along the narrow boulevard halfway back to the town limits. “This isn’t the best place for a speech, and I doubt they’d hear much of it anyway. Make sure they understand. I’m going to talk with the King and see if we can hammer out a strategy to beat this army that’s coming.”
“Aye, sir,” Odellan said. “It will be as you say.”
“I never doubted it for a minute,” Cyrus said, bringing his horse around and looking to Odau. “How many of my officers does your King expect for this feast?”
“We could house several hundred comfortably,” Odau said with a pleasant smile. “However, his Grace expects you would have twenty or so officers to lead your troops.”
“I’m going to define officer a little more broadly then.” He turned to look at the force on horseback behind him. “Ryin, Nyad, Curatio, Terian, J’anda-Longwell, of course-I’ll also have the Baroness, Martaina and Aisling come with us.” He glanced through their ranks and saw Mendicant sitting on his small pony next to the massive desert man, Scuddar In’shara. “Mendicant and Scuddar, too.”
Mendicant, only about four feet tall, pointed a clawed finger at himself, and Cyrus saw his mouth open, sharp teeth visible within, though he only saw the goblin mouth the word, “Me?”
Aisling guided her horse from behind Odellan. “Why me?”
Cyrus shrugged, but his eyes never left hers. “I have my reasons. For all of you.” He looked around. “All here?” He tossed a glance back to Odau. “Lead on.”
There was a short road to the gates of the castle. The curtain wall took advantage of the steep slopes around the hill it was built upon-Cyrus estimated that a siege would be well nigh impossible by traditional means,
