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'Then guard him closely when he is with the Marcherwoman, and keep him well clear of Elionbel,' Krulshards ordered.

'Yes, Master,' whispered Kerzolde, running to keep pace with the Nightmare as he hurried towards his high chambers.

~ 284.

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i

The Palace of Kings

Thunderstone felt the first earth tremor as it tore at the walls of Underfall and he ran as quickly as he could up the winding stairs to the lamp gallery. Behind him the stairway crumbled, collapsing in a crash of blinding stone dust. Breathlessly he steadied the lamp, holding it with both hands as the wooden mounting rocked backwards and forwards. Twice he tried to reach inside and catch hold of the last jewel from the cloak of jewels that he had laid so carefully beside the wick to reflect light into the darkness, but the jewel skidded on the smooth polished surface of the gla.s.s, cutting a small deep groove as it evaded his grasp. The fortress of Underfall settled and grew still. Thunderstone stretched out his hand inside the lamp but just as his fingers were closing on the jewel another tremor fiercely shook the fortress and tipped the lamp violently towards him. The jewel scratched across the gla.s.s and caught in the groove it had cut beside the wick, fusing in a blinding flash of white light into the gla.s.s.

Thunderstone gingerly touched the edge of the jewel and cried out with pain as he licked at his burned fingertips.

'Magic! Pure magic!' he muttered, shielding his eyes against the shaft of brilliant white light that had begun flooding through the jewel and out across the shadowy Causeway Field.

Following the shaft of light to the wild edge of Mantern's Forest Thunderstone cried out, reaching for his horse-tail sword. 'Lord of Lords!' he shouted, stumbling and sliding

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adown the ruined stairway. 'Greatest of Kings!' he laughed, running through the maze of inner courtyards, throwing door after door open wide. 'The greatest Granite King, King Holbian, has returned to Underfall!'

Thunderstone called out to the servants and undergrooms, crying with joy. He threw the bolts on the outer doors and rolled them wide open across the cobbles.

Rockspray flew low, close to the Causeway, shrieking a warning to the Keeper of World's End as he entered the fortress but Thunderstone merely laughed, pointing down at the weary

column of city folk flanked by the Nighthorses of Underfall, the wild Warhorses and the packs of Border Runners. At the head of the column rode King Holbian, aglitter in the steelsilver coat.

Errant was at his side riding Dawnrise and beside him another warrior sat on a dark rough-coated pony.

'Lord, greatest of Kings,' Thunderstone cried, falling on to his knees in the centre of the Causeway and offering up the hilt of the horse-tail sword.

King Holbian reined Beacon Light to a halt before the Keeper of World's End and stimy dismounted. Smiling he reached down and took Thunderstone's hands into his own and pulled him to his feet. 'Rise, true friend,' he laughed. 'Rise and be easy at my side.'

Thunderstone looked up into the maze of fine cracks that covered the King's face and frowned with concern. 'lord,' he whispered, stepping forward.

King Holbian laughed, slowly ungloving his hands. 'I have grown brittle, Thunderstone, old and brittle from the rub of time.'

The King looked past the Keeper's shoulder, sweeping; his gaze across the sheer granite-grey wails of Underfall. 'I have come home, dear friend,' he whispered. 'Home to the Palace of Kings.'

Beyond the great doors hoofbeats echoed in the inner; courtyards thundering across the cobbles. 'Who in all Elundium?' Thunderstone cried, spinning round l.u.s.t in time to see'>

Esteron gallop out into the sunlight, a broken halter chain dangling from his head collar, his mane streaming in the wind.

Mulcade and Rockspray stooped on to Thunderstone's shoulders and together, with quick beaks and talons, they took Thane's summer scarf from beneath the Keeper's cloak and rising up, the scarf spread out between them, they flew towards Mantern's Mountain. 'The banner of light!' shouted the King, pointing with his sword after the vanishing owls. 'That is the standard; the summer scarf that Angis told me about.'

Angis saw the owls carrying her scarf, broke away from the column of city folk and knelt upon the short gra.s.s of the Causeway Field. 'Thane! Take care,' she called, twisting her shawl between her fingers.

King Holbian turned, shading his eyes against the sunlight and followed the flight of the owls. 'It is indeed a royal standard, for it is made from the rag ends of the great banners in the Towers of Granite. See how it sparkles in the daylight.'

Turning back the King faced Esteron who had halted a pace away. Smiling, he reached out a hand towards the horse he had given to- Thane to carry him to World's End. 'Who would have thought that we would be standing here in the shadow of the Palace of Kings on the threshold of a new Elundium? There are great deeds in the making, I can feel it in my ancient bones.

Were I young again I would vault upon your back, Esteron, and follow the owls, but I am burdened with old age and I will

have to follow as best as I can. Tell Thanehand, tell him that the King will follow with all haste. Tell him that I am here at the Palace of Kings.'

Esteron neighed, pawed at the Causeway road and reared up, thrashing the air with his hooves, before jumping the shadowfilled d.y.k.e and galloping after the owls.

King Holbian stood for a moment watching Esteron gallop away before he turned to Thunderstone. 'The Granite City is no

more. The Chancellors are dead, and these,' here the

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King paused, pointing at the dusty column of travellers, 'are all that are left of the people of the city.'

Thunderstone clapped his hands, calling every server and underling out of the fortress on to the Causeway, ordering them to find a bed and food for each of the people of the city.

Kneeling before the King he offered him the suite of rooms just below the lamp gallery, saying, 'They look over World's End, my Lord, and they glorify each sunset.'

But Holbian shook his head. 'No,' he answered quietly, pointing into the darkened courtyards. 'When I enter the Palace of Kings it will be to take my place among the other Granite Kings who sleep within the bones of the mountain and I cannot do that while the Nightmare lives. No, I shall set my pavilion on the Causeway Field and prepare to enter the City of Night and stand against Krulshards.'

Turning towards the long column of city folk he called Breakmaster to come to him, placing Beacon Light's reins into his hand. 'Let her rest with a full belly of corn, but in the grey hours before morning ready her for battle, ready her for my ride into the City of Night.'

The steep mountain stank of death as it towered over them.

Thoron reined Equestrius to a halt as the first earth tremor shook the ground. He had carried the heavy sword that Durondell had forged far across Elundium while Eagle Owl had waited patiently on his shoulder, waiting for the call to carry the sword to a new King. He looked up the steep side of the shalestrewn valley they were about to enter. 'This is a dangerous place,' he called out to the long column of Gallopers that waited behind him.

Far above the sunlight touched the mountainside burning fiercely on two tall columns of sulphur-yellow rocks. Eagle Owl tensed, spreading his wings. Equestrius backed a pace, snorting fiercely. Thoron loosed the hilt of the sword and edged it out of the sheath. 'Now may be the moment!' he said; resting his hand briefly on the owl's talons.

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Somewhere above them a piercing cry broke the silence, tearing through the columns of yellow rock, shattering them into a thousand pieces. 'Back! Retreat!' Thoron shouted against the thunder of the rockslide as shale stones rained down into the narrow valley, creating a cloud of stinging dust. Equestrius turned and galloped clear of the rock slide. Thoron felt a tug at his belt and when he looked down he saw that his sword had gone. Shading his eyes he looked up across the mountain's barren slopes and saw the flash of sunlight on bright metal as Eagle Owl laboured to lift the blade high up into the thin mountain air.

'Kingspeed, great bird of war!' he shouted lifting his hand to wave farewell. 'Kingspeed!'

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A Door Crack into Darkness