The reply was an obscene gesture.
'You will die!' Shadow yelled. 'I can free your bird. Turn back, lad, and live!'
This time the obscenity was verbal, and Shadow was not surprised. Why should Rorin believe him? He hardly believed himself. Rorin was studying the terrain, planning the next hop of his journey.
'Your last chance! Turn back or die!'
Shadow was ignored, so he started the war.
He signaled to IceFire. 'Tell your father that it is a downdraft to hurt the man. I ask him to spare the man.'
IceFire's reply was too fast for him, which perhaps was deliberate. Perhaps her father was using bird obscenities.
'Tell your father to do three things. First he must raise one talon and scrape along under his beak. He will break the strap which holds the front of the helmet. Then he must dive, and the wind will blow it away from his eyes. Lastly, he must keep on diving until he lands.'
'That is forbidden!' IceFire replied.
Forbidden? Shadow was nonplussed. Forbidden by whom? In all his plans he had not expected argument from the eagles. Forbidden?
'Forbidden by whom?' he asked.
'When I was a chick, my father himself told me.'
Rorin banked IceStriker and dived away steeply.
Please. Shadow begged. 'Tell him to try!'
IceFire's comb reddened angrily, but she sent the message, then passed the reply. 'He says it is forbidden. He cannot land on one foot.'
The straps were thin leather. The stitching holding the buckles was only thread. Shadow thought of those mighty talons and beaks carrying goats--carrying him. There was far more muscle there than was needed...
IceStriker and his rider were dwindling in the distance. Shadow felt panic. 'Tell him Friend-of-eagles says it will work. Tell him...if I lead badly, then NailBiter will drop me...
He caught IceFire's ferocious glare and thought that perhaps, just this once, that expression represented her true feelings. She passed the message.
His suicidal offer was accepted, as he had known it would be. The eagles were literal. The eagles were also fast. The signal, IceStriker's reaction, and NailBiter's surge of excitement seemed to be simultaneous. Rorin hardly had time to scream as his mount bucked and dived. The reins went slack, and the helmet flipped inside out and flapped back toward him, useless. The great raptor beak flashed around momentarily, for just long enough to bite off his head.
Then the whole world whirled and swayed, and Shadow yelled in terror and grabbed his harness straps as NailBiter did a dance of joy. For a moment he thought the bird would drop the sling in his excitement and the victorious general would fall to his death, following IceStriker as he plunged earthward, still trailing a long plume of blood. IceFire was tumbling around like a new-flown chick. Far beyond human sight in all directions the watchers would have seen, and perhaps they also pranced and gamboled in the sky. The secret was out: The eagles could free themselves.
When NailBiter calmed down and Shadow's stomach returned, he signaled again. 'Tell your father that we shall send a man to take the body off his back, but the man is a friend and must not be harmed.'
IceStriker was already lost to Shadow's sight against the bright hills below, but the reply came at once. 'My father will not hurt the man you send. His kill is your kill, One-who-came-through-the-dark.'
'Return to the castle,' Shadow ordered. He asked for the rescuer to be sent but was told that he was already on his way--his eagle would know where to go.
Then IceFire relayed another message. 'My father has landed safely. He has bitten through the saddle straps but cannot reach the one around his neck. Send an eagle to do that. He does not need a man.'
Shadow acknowledged sadly. He had seen that possibility and had been waiting to discover if the birds were smart enough to work it out. Obviously they were. He had hoped to keep some part for men to play in this, but they were not needed. Yet the birds in the aeries were still hostage, and it would not be difficult for Jarkadon to have all the bird helmets fitted with chains instead of straps.
'Speak to the High Ones. I have hatched the egg as I promised. They must send word to all slaves that the army is coming. The slaves must wait. Any slave who does this thing before we arrive will warn the men, and the men will kill the chick. The slaves must wait.'
Who were the High Ones? He did not know. Perhaps two or three, perhaps hundreds, but they spoke always with one voice, through whichever bird was nearest, who in this case was IceFire.
'You have hatched a fine chick, One-who-came-through-the-dark. The eagles will follow.'
The point was critical. The birds could not keep a secret--certainly not news like this. It would flash from comb to comb along the Rand with the speed of sight, from wild to aerie and wild to wild. The courier bringing news of Jarkadon's accession had taken thirteen days to reach Ninar Foan, and that had been good time. An unladen bird could do it in two. How long would it be until this message reached the birds in the capital? Probably only hours. The race was on.
Shadow was surprised by the swarm of birds over Ninar Foan--there were at least two unladen for each one carrying a man. So he must have a thousand eagles at his command. He was going to seize a whole country with three hundred men and a thousand birds? He was crazy.
The castle was battened down for siege. Eleven birds sat on the sunward side of the aerie, all hooded and still. Whoever was in charge had not ventured a sortie against the impossible odds. Shadow had made his orders plain: The army was to wait for him to return. Had his strategy not worked, then the battle would not have needed to be fought, for it would have been useless.
NailBiter landed on the pyramid roof of the aerie itself, and Shadow slid carefully down the old weathered timbers toward the dark side. As he had expected, the wood was dried and ancient, exactly like that of the Vinok aerie, where the troopers had ripped out a few boards to cook a meal.
He made himself comfortable on the awkward slope, just back from the edge. Below him was the terrace and the deserted perching wall, flanked by a thin litter of mute pellets. He had jumped from that wall once...He shivered again at the memory. He was well above the roof of the castle, safely out of bowshot, but NailBiter was exposed and a tempting target if anyone thought of it, so Shadow had to hurry.
His arrival would have been heard by those below him.
'Who's in charge down there?' he shouted.
'God save King Jarkadon!' The voice belonged to Vak Vonimor.
'It's Shadow.'
'I saw you. Come and get us, bird lover.'
'Vak, I owe you a debt,' Shadow said without hope. 'I don't want more bloodshed. Rorin is dead--there will be no message passed and no help coming. Give up the castle. Proclaim the true king and we'll go away and leave you alone.'
'Go lay an egg!' the voice below him shouted. 'You're bluffing. Come and get us.'
No doubt the man assumed he was in a strong position. He would have archers, standing on a solid floor. The attackers had to come in against the light, in unstable slings which would seem ludicrous to an old skyman like Vonimor. Even if Shadow's men were to land on the roof and chop holes in it, they would still black out the light when they tried to shoot through those holes. If he set fire to the roof, he would kill the birds, which were on the downwind side. So Vonimor would be as confident as Rorin had been.
'All right!' Shadow yelled. 'When you're ready to give up, release the eagles.'
He clambered back up the slope to NailBiter, who was shivering with excitement. As they dived away from the aerie, a couple of arrows flew unpleasantly close.
The army melted away to clear the air. Shadow signaled for a comb of rocks, then soared on a thermal in the distance and waited, watching.
The first two went through the planks, making small holes but undoubtedly scaring the hell out of the defenders below as they shattered against the floor. The third rock struck a corner beam, and the whole roof
