“When his emissaries arrive, I will meet them on the field, and I will tell them that what they seek is not here. Lady Filaree? Will you accompany me?” Baladar asked.
“It would be my honor, Lord Baladar,” she answered, bowing her head.
“And you, Elion, I think you have earned the right to bring Colton this news,” Baladar stated.
“With pleasure, my Lord,” Elion said proudly.
“Grogan, you must remain here. If something should happen to us, you are more than capable of taking over the defense of the city. Bishop Anwel? Would you add your spiritual touch to our group?”
“Certainly, Lord Baladar. I would like to bring the wrath of the mighty one down upon them all if I could, may the First forgive me,” he answered.
“It is decided then. I believe that everyone here knows what they must do now. I wish to retire to my study to prepare. As soon as Colton’s messengers arrive, I will have the tower bell ring three times. We will assemble in the courtyard and then ride to the gates together. Grogan! Prepare the city for the closing of the gates. It is time,” Baladar concluded, as he stood up from the table and bid everyone farewell.
Some of the people remained to talk about the developments, while Elion and Filaree walked out together with Cameron close behind. Elion could not get over how beautiful this human female was. She had such a regal air about her, yet she was strong and determined. He would want to be on her side of the battlefield when the fighting begins, he thought.
“Did you see the heir yourself?” Filaree asked him as they walked.
“Yes, I was with him for quite some time” Elion answered. “He is very handsome, for a human,” Elion continued, and then immediately realized how that must have sounded. “I did not mean anything by that, my Lady. I am sorry…” he started to explain.
“Do not apologize to me, Prince Elion. I find most humans to be rather gruff and clumsy myself,” she said laughing, while Cameron frowned deeply from behind.
“Did you speak with him often?” she asked.
“Baladar did not tell you?” he questioned her, surprised.
“Tell me what, Prince?” she responded.
“That he is not well? That the heir is under a spell and is unconscious?” he replied.
“He did mention that he has not yet awoken, but I assumed he meant that he was still sleeping from his journey,” she responded.
“Well, he is still sleeping from his journey. But he has been sleeping for at least a week!” Elion remarked. “My mother, Queen Elsinestra, is a healer and she was about to go to him when I left her. She will find a way to bring him back to us,” he said with confidence and with no lack of pride.
“I am sure she will, Prince Elion. I have heard much about her over the years. The boy is in good hands. Is he all that we have been led to believe?” she asked.
“More, my Lady. Much more,” he said solemnly.
“I am anxious to meet him myself. But there is much to do here first if I ever hope to have a chance to work with the heir,” she said. “Come Cameron. Walk with me.” She reached out her arm for the other man to take and he gladly grasped it. Elion bowed to them both as they parted company for the evening.
Elion returned to his rooms to prepare for the parlay and Filaree, with Cameron at her side, went to the training grounds to observe the troops and await the tolling of the bells.
Chapter Thirty-five
Grogan gathered a small contingent of his best men and marched with them to the Noban gates. The stream of refugees into the city had slowed somewhat, but he could still see a long line of people, wagons, animals and the occasional soldier stretching out into the woods. He told his guards to spread out and start advising the stragglers that the gates would be closing soon. The dozen or so soldiers rode their horses out and around disseminating the news, and those still quite a distance from the city walls began to move with a renewed speed, turning what had been a relatively calm and organized procession into a tangled mess. No one wanted to be stranded outside the city with Colton dar Agonthea on the march and now so near.
The deaths of the beloved trees had caused so much pain and suffering throughout the countryside these past tiels. Without the protection and calming influence of the Lalas, the population sought out Pardatha and Baladar as replacements, if only temporary, for the security they had lost. The high walls and fortified gates of the city seemed the safest and most comforting alternative.
“Let’s move now. Hurry up. Lord Baladar does not wish anyone to be caught outside. Move quickly,” Grogan said as he rode up and down the remaining lines gathered outside, and the people responded with a renewed urgency.
After a few more hours the numbers had diminished to a trickle, and Grogan signaled his guards to assemble on either side of the huge entrance. Two of his soldiers pulled large, bone horns from their saddlebags and held them to their lips, awaiting their leader’s signal. Grogan raised his arm and then with much regret, he dropped it, at which point the two guards began to blow on the great horns.
The sound echoed throughout the city, beyond the forest and across the lake. Baladar heard the sad bellowing from his study, high up in the castle tower. Elion turned, startled at first, and then recognized the signal for what it was. Filaree listened with a pensive look upon her face and Cameron walked to her side to share the prodigious moment with his Lady.
Everyone already in the city knew the seriousness of the sound, and for just a few seconds the activity that had grown frenetic in the past few days, died completely. The remainder of the guards accompanying Grogan moved to the large mechanism that opened and closed the massive wooden gates. A few stragglers were still rushing in, and when the Master at Arms was confident that no more were left behind, he issued the orders to seal Pardatha from the inevitable assault.
The majestic doors creaked and groaned and the soldiers cranked away, though they hardly budged them at first. Everyone nearby stopped what they were doing, stood perfectly still and watched. It had been so long since this avenue had been closed, that even the city elders could not remember the last time. Once the doors began to move though, the noise ceased almost entirely, and they closed silently and smoothly as if they were gliding upon a cushion of air. But with each foot of ground that they covered, the hearts of the people beat faster and faster. Finally, they met with a resounding crash in the wake of which an eerie hush spread over the city.
Pardatha became an island in the path of a storm, and the silence of those witnessing the event was like the calm that reigns before the wind hits and the lightning strikes. But as the First was their witness, the Pardathans would resist until the end, until there was no fight left within the noble city, until the very walls crumbled and fell. And their leaders knew all the while that the real hope for the world lay not with them any longer no matter how valiant and brave they fought, but to the south, among the Elves in the protected heights of Seramour. After a while, after the echoes that marked the sealing of the city had long faded away, and after the dust had settled upon the cobblestones of Pardatha, everyone went back about their business though they were all just a bit more pensive than before.
Grogan and his men slid the locking mechanisms into place, carefully and diligently set the seals that secured them and then took up their watch beside the Noban gates.
Chapter Thirty-six
By the time the dawn drew, Robyn was already up and atop Kraft and ready for the final leg of his journey. He would be approaching Pardatha directly from the north, thereby avoiding the swamps that edged the great forest. The air was cool for this time of year and the sky was streaked with long, grey clouds. Shadows roamed around the ground like great, hulking monsters chasing each other across the fields.
The air smelled oddly pungent, and with each breath he took his nose became more and more irritated, until he finally had to wrap a scarf around his face to filter his intake. His eyes began to tear and sting, and he thought that he could see a faint smoke hanging in the air around him. Robyn rode as fast as he could, covering ground swifter than most on the back of his stallion. The smoke grew more abundant and the acrid odor increased with each passing hour.
As he neared Pardatha, he was bothered by the fact that he saw no activity on the outskirts of the city. He would have expected to see the signs of commerce, of trade, of visitors and travelers. But instead, all was quiet and still. No smoke swirled from the chimneys of the scattered farm houses he passed and no animals grazed in the corrals. He passed no one on the way toward the city, and even though he was not traveling a beaten path, he could see the thoroughfares in the distance and they were still and abandoned.
His instincts told him to skirt the woods and not to gallop headlong into the unknown, and Robyn always trusted his instincts. Kraft was expressing some discomfort now due to the heaviness of the air, and Robyn spied a small pond fed by a clear, flowing stream issuing from a rocky hill to its west. It was surrounded by a knoll of thick, leafy trees. He led his steed in that direction and allowed him to drink from the pure waters for a time while he dismounted. Robyn tried to identify the odor that was in the air everywhere, but he could not place it. It had the taste of carbon, but it was more rancid and not pure at all. The air left an oily residue all over him and he was becoming more and more troubled by it.
Robyn sat for a moment and dug his long fingers into the soft soil surrounding the pond. He reached for contact, and when he found what he was looking for, he relaxed and let his mind open up to the floes. Not in words, but through feelings did the images manifest themselves. At first he did not know what he was sensing, but the pictures grew clearer in his mind’s eye as the moments passed. He dug his hand deeper into the ground, trying to reach a clearer source. A soft root twirled itself around his wrist with a comforting squeeze, and the previously confusing impressions became vivid images. He was astonished at the sheer size of the enemy’s forces. The picture he received was neither steady nor systematic. Rather, he caught glimpses of beasts and pack animals, soldiers and slaves, siege engines and wagons, one after another, until they flooded his brain.
Robyn recoiled violently from the next image, but not soon enough to avoid being struck by the stench of the Dark Lord and the vision of his hideous expression of glee with which he led his forces. He saw Colton turn with a start, perhaps sensing the intrusion, and the image in Robyn’s mind rapidly changed. He now saw huge, belching beasts, spreading a thick, acrid smoke everywhere, and he saw that the fires scattered all over the massive camp were emitting greasy fumes from the carcasses of the burning animals spitted over the flames.
Briefly, he saw a group of riders mounted on black steeds with cloven hooves, with hoods hiding their darkened faces, traveling separately from all the rest. They were moving in unison, and they were carrying a black banner with a red sun on its surface. They were not with the rest of the army but quite some distance from it, heading somewhere away from the main contingent. He could see the swords glinting at their belts beneath their crimson cloaks.
The entire scene was horrific, one image was worse than the next! Robyn realized that he was marching into the middle of the tempest, and he only hoped that he was not too late, that he would be able to reach Pardatha before the enemy arrived at its gates. He withdrew his hand from the earth having seen enough, and then he washed it briefly in the cool water of the pond, splashing some of the fresh liquid into his face as well. The air hung with the rotten stench and his eyes watered still. Robyn whistled and Kraft responded immediately, nudging him under the arm, as anxious as he was to leave this place.
Once in the saddle again, he rode cautiously, hugging the tree line and looking out for danger. A flock of birds sprang out of the trees before them, as the sound of horns blowing in the distance pierced the relative silence of the afternoon. He continued to ride, getting closer and closer to his destination, while becoming more and more anxious with each mile that he covered.
Ahead, rising above the treetops in the distance, he could see the temple mount extending high up over the city, the distinctive oval edifice silhouetted in the sun. Very soon now he would be in Pardatha, and he pressed forward with determination, riding Kraft hard. Robyn could see the walls to the city outlined beyond the plains, and as he drew closer, still within the cover of the woods, he saw the same detachment of riders on their coal black mounts with the cloven hooves approaching the gates.
He dismounted, led Kraft to a sheltered area overlooking the valley across from which this abhorrent group was riding, and he observed with growing concern the developments below. Instead of the hideous raven banner with the burning sun, they carried a white flag of truce, obviously looking to parlay with the leaders of the city. But, it occurred to Robyn, that when he saw them previously they were carrying swords beneath their cloaks! Something was amiss here. Riders looking to confer did so unarmed, unless some sort of treachery was afoot.
The rules of war were clearly written, however unusual, and all nations abided by them. But Colton dar Agonthea was a pariah, a being who always distanced himself from society and one who placed himself beyond the law. Robyn believed that he would behave no differently here and now than ever before. If the leaders of Pardatha, Baladar and his ministers, underestimated the unscrupulousness of the Dark Lord, then they may just fall into his trap.
Robyn watched, all his senses sharp, from his perch above the city, and he waited for the meeting to begin. His eyes scanned the surrounding countryside and finally came to rest upon the city once more. He noticed with surprise that the massive gates of Pardatha were shut tight, something he had never seen here before. The battlements were heavily manned, and he could see armed soldiers peering through the crenellated towers. He sat pensively on Kraft’s sturdy back, awaiting the next development in the macabre drama about to unfold below him.