King Holbian looked beyond the Chancellors into the throng of warriors. 'Who can tell me how the outer wall withstood the night's attacks?'

'The great wall is crumbling, my Lord, under the Nightbeast attacks. My mason gangs cannot keep pace with the damage they do.'

'Come forward, Mastermason, and tell us what must be done to strengthen the outer walls.'

Arachatt, the Mastermason, squeezed through the press of warriors until he stood shyly before the King. Kneeling, he kissed the King's foot. 'We cannot repair the damage, my Lord. The houses built against the inner surface of the wall are no more than piles of broken granite. The Nightbeasts are breaking through.'

'How so?' asked the King, leaning forward. 'The narrow road along the top of the wall feels firm enough. It trembles and shakes under the Nightbeasts' a.s.saults, but it seems strong and safe.'

'Lord, they are battering with whole tree trunks against the lower sections of the wall, shaking the very foundations of the city.'

'But the walls are seventeen paces thick, and each great granite block is the height and width of three grown men.

Surely trees are no match against granite?'

'They are using ironwood, my Lord,' Arachatt replied.

'Splinters too heavy for my masons to carry have been hurled into the city.'

'Ironwood!' Grey Goose mouthed. Once he had seen an ironwood tree in the heart of the black forest. 'You can cast sparks with the blade of your sword, or blunt arrows on that

wood. It is match enough for granite.'

'They pound the walls all night without rest, my Lord, grinding the granite to a fine powder. I fear they will break through into the lower city tonight,' Arachatt insisted. 'We have piled the rubble from the houses against the weakest sections of the wall but the first circle of the city is a tangle of wreckage.'

King Holbian rose to his feet and paced the high dais, deep in thought. 'If we abandon the first circle, Mastermason, how will we defend the city once the Nightbeasts have breached the wall?'

'The second level has a strong granite wall, my Lord, but it has been hidden for many suns beneath new buildings. It is said that the houses on that wall have a view second only to the views from the Granite Towers.'

Holbian smiled, 'But there are no gates. How will you stop the Nightbeasts from swarming up through every level until they reach Candlebane Hall? We will be overrun before the new sun rises.'

'Lord, my masons will demolish every house on the second wall and render it smooth, without a hanthold for the Nightbeasts We will block the gateway with the rubble, building a new strong wall in the gap.'

Angry mutterings rose amongst the Marchers near the Candledoors and Marcher Cherink pushed his way through the Battle Council to stand before the King.

'We will be homeless, Lord, if the masons strip the inner wall. We will be left with nothing but the stars over our heads at night.'

The King looked steadily into Marcher Cherink's eyes and answered him softly, yet all could hear his words. 'What would you have, Marcher? Nightbeasts staring down at us from every window on the wall, filling your homely chambers with their foul stench? What of the people from the lower city?

They already have the stars for a roof.'

Marcher Cherink hung his head and shuffled his feet in

confusion.

'We are siege-locked warriors,' the King called out in a strong voice. 'And every one of us, even the Chancellors, must give a little and bend beneath the Nightbeasts' foul shadows, but remember this, in the bending we are only crouching, waiting for the moment to spring back and tear their black hearts out!'

'Elundium! Elundium!' shouted the warriors, clashing their spear b.u.t.ts on the marble floor and beating the flat blades of their swords against the fire-fluted candle stems. Holbian lifted his hands and called for silence.

'Saddle the horses, Breakmaster!' he cried, unsheathing his sword. The Battle Council leaned forward, hushed and

anxious to catch his every word.

-'We will clear the lower circle of the city before night falls, Mastermason. Set your stonechippers to work on the inner wall. Use every Marcher, man or boy, use everyone, but strip it bare. Gallopers, spread out through the shadow of the great wall and bring the low-born people up into the safety of the inner circle. Archer Grey Goose, take your Archers up to the great wall and with your careful sharp eyes watch over us and marshal our retreat.'

'Lord we are ready!' Breakmaster cried, holding Beacon Light by the bridle.

'Ride with me, faithful friend,' the King whispered as Breakmaster held the stirrup for him to mount, 'for never in all the history of Elundium has the Granite City fallen so far under the Nightmare's shadow and I am afraid.'

Breakmaster tightened the horse's girth and handed the reins to the King. 'I am your shadow, Lord. Even in the Nightmare's darkness I will be at your side.'

'Not as a shadow,' resolved the King, 'but as a fearless and proud friend whom I trust with my life!' Holbian laughed, stood in the stirrups and beckoned his small squadron of Gallopers to follow, and their hoofbeats sounded as thunder in the narrow cobbled streets that wound their way down into the shadow of the great wall.

-Fine stone dust hung in a gritty fog, blurring the lower

limits of the city. King Holbian coughed, choking on each breath that he swallowed and his eyes watered in the stinging dust. The lower city lanes and winding alleyways had been reduced to heaps of granite rubble, and rough sacking shelters had sprung up wherever a wall remained standing.

Cooking fires lit the gloomy scene, sending up the stench of roasting sewer vermin or worse.

'What chaos!' muttered Breakmaster, wrinkling up his nose and reining his pony to a slow walk as he picked his way amongst the temporary shelters.

'Bring the cryers forward!' shouted the King, twisting in the saddle and sweeping his eyes across the wreckage of the lower city. Far above him in the upper circle of the City the noon bell tolled out the measure of the daylight.

'Cryers!' he shouted, 'the daylight runs away from us.

Marshal the people up into the second level.'

Holbian spurred Beacon Light forwards, riding amongst the shuffling low-born dwellers, urging them to hurry. 'The people are slow to move to safety,' he called across to Breakmaster as the evening shadows lengthened.

'They have suffered great hardship in the siege, my Lord, and their spirits are near to breaking.' Breakmaster hesitated.

'And they fear death in the upper circles of the city at the hands of the Chancellors.'

A loud clap of thunder drowned out any more of Breakmaster's

words and the ground beneath their feet rocked and trembled.

'Death waits for them here if they drag their footsteps,'

shouted Holbian. 'The Nightbeasts are battering on the walls.

Drive the stragglers to safety.'

Galloper Earit saw the wall begin to bulge above him. He spun his horse away and galloped clear as a shower of sharp granite stone fell all around him. His horse stumbled, floundering in the wreckage as a section of wall collapsed behind him. Blinding clouds of stone dust rose. The Night beasts were swarming through the breach, roaring and screaming, reaching out with cruel claws for the last fleeing dwellers of the lower city.

King Holbian wheeled Beacon Light towards the Nightbeasts and spurred her forwards.

'The King! The King!' shouted Breakmaster, seeing his Lord's peril as the Nightbeasts surrounded him. Beating the flat of his sword against his pony's side he charged after the King into the terrible shadows, calling to the Gallopers to follow. King Holbian slipped the reins and, double-handed, gripped the hilt of his Galloping sword. Boldly he scythed through the Nightbeasts' mail-clad arms and iron caps, as Beacon Light reared and plunged, thrashing the air with her forelegs, taking the King nearer and nearer to the breach; further and further into the Nightbeasts' shadows.

Grey Goose knelt at the edge of the great wall and watched the King's perilous charge.

'Wait for my signal!' he commanded quietly. His strike of Archers were spread out on either side of him. Lifting his right hand, the Archers necked new-forged arrows on to their bows and drew them tight until the feathered flights lightly touched their cheeks. Beyond the piles of granite rubble the Gallopers had rallied into a fast-moving line.

Spears lowered, they closed in on the Nightbeasts to rescue the King.

Grey Goose's hand trembled and fell, the oiled wooden bows cried out as the arrows sang and shrieked their way down into the Nightbeast army below. The wall of Nightbeasts crumbled and Breakmaster galloped over them.