Yorlain whispered orders to her aides, who rushed to open the final barrier-an enormous iron gate with bars as thick as a man's thighs, armed with sharp, spear-like points.
And as they were cranked up, heavy chains rattling against unseen gears, Safar saw a long dark tunnel. A blaze of light, no larger than his palm, winked at the other end.
Yorlain waved them through, getting out of her chariot and walking beside Khysmet.
As they moved into the darkness, both Iraj and Safar heard Yorlain say, 'There are those who claim this was once the mightiest fortress in all the world. A thousand years ago, when the last kings ruled, it survived a legendary siege that lasted twenty years or more.
'Ten thousand demons hammered at these gates, but to no avail. If I recall correctly, Lord Asper himself led the last charge and was turned back with terrible casualties.'
'What war was this?' Iraj asked. And Safar listened closely for Yorlain's answer.
'My scholars tell me it was an ethnic war of sorts,' the queen replied. 'Hadin was once populated by people of many races. Also, there was a large colony of demons who lived peacefully among us for centuries. Some say the demons were once so plentiful that one of the ruling pair of kings was a demon.
'I don't know if that's true, since it was so long ago that only the tales survived. There are no records.
Regardless, when the slaughter reared its head everyone who was not exactly like…' She hesitated, trying to put genocide into passable words. Then: 'Well, people without dark hair and dark eyes were condemned and executed as enemies of the state. Of course, the demon king had long since been executed, so that was no bother to these barbarians.
'Then it came time to cleanse ourselves of the demons. It was about then that Asper came to our shores, warning of a cleansing of the entire world. Not just of demons … or of people like us … but of all living things.
'Naturally, no one listened. We all believed the gods were on our side, just as the demons claimed the gods were with them. Asper, of course, said the gods were asleep and we were all doomed.
'But the words of an old wizard don't amount to much when beings want blood, so everyone turned against him. And they drove him away during the long siege that the demons mounted against the humans.
'In the end, the defenders of the castle keep not only prevailed, but sallied forth to engage the demons in several decisive battles.'
Sighing, Yorlain shook her head. 'If you traveled throughout Hadinland you wouldn't have to ponder long on the result of those battles. For you would not find a single demon on any island throughout the continent. We killed them all and praised ourselves as saints for the killing.'
During Yorlain's history lesson, Iraj's military brain drove him to inspect the tunnel's defenses. Here and there were patches of diffused light coming from above and he looked up to treat himself-and Safar-to a view of heavy grates with enormous iron pots set on swivels hanging over them.
Safar needed no explanation from Iraj that in wartime these pots would be filled with boiling oil or molten lead that could be tipped over to scald and kill anyone daring this passage.
Along with Iraj, he also took careful note of the series of gates spread along the tunnel. Smaller than those barring the entryway, but not by much, these gates were cranked up as they approached. Just beyond each gate were other windows of diffused light, with hot pots guarding them.
It took little imagination to see their purpose. Invaders would be tricked into sending troops into the tunnel. Gates would be slammed shut on each side, trapping them for the boiling oil or molten lead.
Finally, they came out of the tunnel into pure high-mountain light. Yorlain led them around a deep pit that had been constructed only a few yards away from the entrance to the fortress.
Iraj glanced inside the pit and both he Safar saw its purpose. A nest of pointed iron spikes was set in cement in the bottom. Gray, frosted demon skeletons were impaled on many of those spikes. Safar didn't have to hear all of Yorlain's words to know that the ancient bones dated back to the great siege.
At last they came to the keep proper. Iraj dismounted and led Khysmet inside, hooves echoing in the vast interior.
It was then that Safar experienced the strongest blast of machine magic. There was a rumble and a whirl that tore him from his center.
Yorlain said something, but he couldn't make out her words. And the magical storm was so intense that even Iraj was shaken. Eyes moving toward the source, carrying Safar's vision with them. Then fixing on a huge pentagram made of golden tiles.
Like Claire's table, Safar thought. And then that thought was ripped from his mind.
For the magic emanating from the pentagram was so powerful that all his senses were confounded. It was as if a thick fog had descended. A painful fog containing many barbs and poisoned hooks like a deep-sea devil fish.
Once again, he strengthened the shield spell. Putting all his energies into it. Wishing he had Palimak, or even Jooli or Eeda to help. But buried within Iraj he was barred from all contact with them.
Then he got the shield up, took scant notice of the fact that Iraj had also been injured by the spellblast, and concentrated on the colorful work painted within the pentagram.
It was an eight-pointed wind-rose. And on each directional spear was painted the form of one the major gods. Safar sent mental commands for Iraj to investigate.
To his surprise, Iraj caught his sense of urgency and let his eyes sweep from familiar figures such as the Goddess Felakia and the rest. Eyes moving onward, from one god or goddess to the other, until they came to rest on a wide red spear that was turned inward, pointing to the center.
And painted on that spear blade was the exotic, six-faced form of the lady from the hells.
The Goddess Lottyr.
Each face was more beautiful and yet more malevolent than the next. Painted flames shot from every mouth.
And as Safar looked at them through eyes that Iraj had provided he saw the flames bubble and move.
A terrible searing blast shot through Iraj, who moaned and shrunk in his own boots from the fiery assault.
Safar felt it too, but quickly turned the attack back against its origin.
Somewhere in the gloom of the castle keep he heard a ghostly shriek.
Then the assault ended. But he knew it wasn't for long.
He mental whispered to Iraj,
Iraj asked,
And Safar replied,
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
That night, thick black storm clouds gathered over Hadin. At first they scudded in a few at a time, then they arrived with increasing frequency until even the face of the Demon Moon was obscured.
King Rhodes landed his forces in that darkness, crossing from his island hideout to Hadin on longboats with muffled oars. He ignored Safar's nine ships, which were anchored in the little bay. Tabusir had assured him that all but a few Kyranian troops had left the ships to march with Safar and Palimak.
When Rhodes mounted his planned attack on the castle he also knew he'd have nothing to fear from the pirate captains. Once they saw which way the battle went, they'd be clamoring to join Rhodes in return for a few purses of gold.
As soon as Rhodes hit the beach, he sent shock troops forward to secure the road and silence any stray soldiers or farmers they encountered.
Meanwhile, his longboats returned to the island and began the onerous task of hauling the portable siege engines to the shore.
His mother arrived with the last group, hissing curses at her slaves as they clumsily loaded her magical table
