The creatures worked with an odd, dispa.s.sionate efficiency. Other Loh'shree were setting up braziers at regular intervals within the rings.

Ezqedir hated the need for such dark power, but he had no choice.

"A good day for battle, sir," said Meloqthes.

Ezqedir lowered his gla.s.s and turned to his adjutant. Meloqthes had tied his thick black hair at the base of his neck, a change from his usual shock of unruly dark hair.

"Let's hope it ends as well as it begins," he said.

"Herol guides your hand, sir. We will not fail."

"Where is Hu'mar? Are the eunuchs ready?"

"He's with the other mursaaba, sir. He sent word that he would prefer to remain with them for this battle. I have signalmen ready. They'll summon their demons on your command."

"And the Loremasters?"

"Olo'kidare and his brethren are arrayed along the forward line as you asked. The Voice has not interfered. He returned to his tent as soon as he emerged from yours."

"Very good, Meloqthes. Our plans are in place. Time to let them unfold."

The siege engines had almost reached their positions. The bodies of the dead Loremasters and Herolen were finally removed from the field. Stakes had been pounded into the ground in a rough line running parallel to the fortress's curtain wall. The stakes marked their estimate of the location of the fear barrier. The siege engines would halt fifty feet before that line. Ezqedir had no idea if the barrier could move that far or if its location was more restricted. This was simple trial and error, and his decision had been to move his engines as close as he could.

"Meloqthes, you may send the signal to the field commanders to attack as soon as they are ready," he said.

"With pleasure, General."

"Archmage, their engines are in position," said Medril. "Can you reposition the fear spells to encompa.s.s them?"

"We'll try, Lord Commander. There is some room for them to move, as we did earlier, but that was only a short distance. This is much farther, and they may collapse."

Gerin could see Medril attempt to hide his frustration with the Archmage. She doesn't understand war at all, he thought. Her inability to think strategically and grasp the nature of the siege was beginning to wear on Medril, though he did his best not to show it.

"Archmage, do what you can to move those spells," he said, "even if you have to collapse them first and recreate them farther out."

"There are limits to what can be done with that kind of magic, Lord Commander. It may not be possible-"

Medril held up his hand in a highly uncharacteristic show of impatience. "Archmage, please. Just do what you can to get those fear spells over their siege engines."

Gerin was surprised that the Archmage did not give the Lord Commander so much as a harsh glare. "We'll do what we can," was all she said.

The Lord Commander turned to one of his lieutenants. "Give the order for the trebuchets to fire. I want their weapons destroyed."

"Yes, Lord Commander."

Gerin heard the distant retort of the first Havalqa siege engine launching its stone. Everyone turned to peer through the battlements. The stone landed short of the wall about two hundred feet to their left.

Gerin had a sudden, overwhelming urge to do something. He'd felt helpless and useless since this siege began, and he'd had enough. He'd sunk a Havalqa warship in the Gulf of Gedsuel, annihilated thousands of enemy soldiers marching on Almaris, and broken the sea blockade of the capital. He had power at his command, and by the G.o.ds, it was time to act!

He heard the distant grumble of a second Havalqa siege engine's throwing arm swinging through its arc. This boulder struck the face of the Hammdras directly. A spiderweb of cracks exploded across the white stone.

Gerin drew Nimnahal, aimed it through the embrasure, and released a blast of unshaped magic at the siege engine. He heard a collective gasp from the wizards and soldiers around him as the line of amber power raced across the field. Havalqa soldiers leaped out of its path before it struck his intended target.

Despite the amount of energy Gerin was pouring through Nimnahal, the distance was simply too great. His magic thinned and faded almost to nothing before it slammed into the wooden base of the weapon, where it did no damage.

He snarled in frustration and tried to increase the amount of magic flowing through the sword, tapping into the weapon's self-contained reservoir of power, but it did no good.

Furious, he relented.

Lord Commander Medril stepped in front of him, his expression severe. "You will not attack the enemy again without my expressed permission. You may be a king in your own country, but Hethnost is not Khedesh, and here, I am in charge of the defenses."

Gerin bristled at being talked to in such a way. "My goal was the defense of Hethnost."

Another Havalqa boulder slammed into the Hammdras. The impact was only a short distance from them, and the thunderous retort made them all flinch. A cloud of dust billowed across the roof of the gate tower.

"The only thing you've done is show them they're safe where they are because our magic can't reach them." Medril gestured through the embrasure. The Havalqa were cheering the failure of Gerin's attack. "You've boosted their morale after the slaughter of their Loremasters. Nothing more."

Gerin clenched his jaw. He wanted to argue, but did not. Medril was right. He'd acted out of turn, and if someone under his command had done the same thing, he would have been far less forgiving than Medril.

He bowed his head. "You're right, Lord Commander. Please accept my apology. It won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't."

"I'm not sure what I find more amazing, Your Majesty," said Balandrick. "That your attack failed, or your humble apology."

"Not now, Balan," said Gerin irritably. "I'm not in the mood."

Wizards stationed on the Hammdras erected overlapping Forbiddings to protect the gate tower. The Forbiddings were invisible to nonwizards, but Gerin could see the air shimmer as the spells took shape.

"I understand why you did it," said Balandrick. "I feel pretty useless standing around waiting for something to happen. It's maddening."

"Medril was right. Chain of command is everything. I'm not a king here, I'm a guest. I know better, and I shouldn't have done it."

Another boulder hurled toward them and smashed into the Forbiddings. Gerin saw the spells flex inward, and he sensed the backflow of magic toward the wizards maintaining them.

Balandrick ducked and swore loudly. "b.l.o.o.d.y b.u.g.g.e.ring Shayphim! What stopped that?"

"There are Forbiddings across this part of the Hammdras."

"Might be nice to know that," Balan muttered as he straightened. "Why not just use those all the time? This place would be impregnable."

"They need too much power and can't be held for very long before failing. The Archmage is going to have to rotate the wizards making them or they won't last. It's just not practical to protect the entire place with them."

In the Havalqa encampment, the jubilation over Gerin's failed attempt to destroy their siege engine died away. The sight of one of their projectiles striking an invisible wall in midair dumbfounded them.

A second stone struck the Forbiddings. This one was larger than the first, and the force of the impact caused the leftmost Forbidding to waver dangerously. Gerin saw wizards scrambling along the wall-walk, moving closer so they could help sh.o.r.e up the barriers.

"How long will they hold?" asked Balandrick.

"Awhile yet." He was not about to voice concerns about the Forbiddings to anyone, even Balandrick.

The air filled with nightmare shrieks. Gerin and Balandrick both swore and looked toward the Havalqa encampment.

Demons were appearing in the air. More than they had seen before.

Balandrick swore under his breath. "This isn't good."

35.

Loremaster Olo'kidare finally managed to detect the wall of fear that had so unhinged Nitendi and his companions. It had not been easy to discover, this power that was so very different from the Mysteries of Bariq. But he had done it, an accomplishment that only reinforced his belief in his abilities and innate superiority over his fellow Adepts.

A clever thing, he admitted to himself. Eyes closed, he studied it as best as he could. It flickered in and out of his perception, as difficult to see as spying a single drop of rain in a downpour. He probed it with Leru's Eye, trying to discern some means of disrupting it. So far he had not succeeded. Clever indeed. These accursed heathen wizards have some talents, I'll grant them that.

He would make sure Dremjou knew what he had done here. The Wahtar of the Jade Temple would reward him accordingly-elevate his station and responsibilities, which in turn would grant him greater status, wealth, and power. His ultimate desire was to become the Voice of the Exalted. Tolsadri's obsessive desire to play the games of intrigue had served him well in his rise to power, and Olo'kidare had learned much from his veiled observations of Tolsadri; but in the end, Tolsadri's game playing would also prove to be his downfall. Already, his failures in this land had destroyed much of his capital with the Exalted and the court. Olo'kidare was somewhat surprised that Tolsadri managed to retain his position after returning to Kalmanyikul through the Path of Ashes. He had expected the Exalted to have him summarily executed for allowing Gerin Atreyano to slip from his grasp, a failure of gigantic proportions.

But the Loremaster was glad that Tolsadri had managed to elude disaster. Olo'kidare was not yet positioned to take his place, and the appointment of another Voice at this point in time would be a disastrous setback for him.

Sudden movement, a shifting...The wall of fear is changing! he realized with a start. New power was flowing into it, altering its fabric. It was maddeningly hard to see it from moment to moment-his body was sweating profusely from the demanding level of concentration.

The wall seemed to be...fluctuating, pulsing as its energy waxed and waned. What in the name of the Powers were these wizards up to?

Then the wall moved, and in an instant he understood their plan.

"They're going to swallow us with their power!" he shouted. Images of Nitendi's gruesome death filled his vision. He had to think! How could they counter the fear? Was there any Mystery that could combat it, or was this a hopeless endeavor, like trying to fight a fog bank with a spear?

He caught another glimpse of the wall of fear with Leru's Eye. The wall was unstable! He was sure of it! It either was not meant to be moved in such a manner, or was at the edge of its range, beyond which it flirted with collapse.

Another glimpse, another fluctuation, and he understood what they had to do.

"Loremasters!" he screamed. "Tireme's Seventh Mode! Send it toward the fortress! Now!"

His fellow Adepts looked at him with confusion. On the face of it, his command made no sense. Tireme's Seventh Mode-indeed, all modal Mysteries-had little to do with warfare, and certainly nothing with the present circ.u.mstances, in which they faced no combatants directly. It was a Mystery of occlusion, designed to cause confusion and chaos in the thoughts of others.

"Now, you imbeciles! Tireme's Seventh Mode, before it's too late!"

Olo'kidare invoked the Mystery and hurled it toward the invisible wall he knew was approaching them. He could no longer sense it directly-he had to drop Leru's Eye to create the mode. He did not know if he would feel anything when his own power intersected the wall of fear. They might simply slip past one another unchanged, powers so dissimilar they could not interact. Even if he was right and succeeded, he had no idea how or even if he would know, other than by the simple act of surviving.

But then there was something, a whisper, a breath of power that made the hair on his arms stand on end. The powers had touched! He felt pressure being exerted against the mode. The wizards' power of fear was confounded by what he had done! The occlusion had done what he thought it would: disrupt the ability of the other power to reach into the minds of its intended victims. That had been his insight-that the fear needed to penetrate a mind in order to carry out its task. And since Tireme's Seventh Mode was intended to occlude and confound, he'd hoped that it would do so to this "spell," as Tolsadri said the wizards' powers were named.

"Do not relent!" he bellowed. "Push with the mode until I give the order to stop!"

He took a terrible risk then. He allowed his own mode to drop so he could peer once again with Leru's Eye. He needed to see, to understand, if he could, what he had done. He could not, after all, properly articulate his triumph to Wahtar Dremjou if he did not comprehend it himself.

Olo'kidare swore as he searched once more for the slippery power of the wizards. At last he found it, though it immediately threatened to dance from his vision. He bore down on it with all of his thought and will, trying to understand- Demons appeared in the air above their heads, their horrendous shrieks piercing his skull like slivers of gla.s.s. The demons took flight toward the fortress, compelled by the loathsome eunuchs. The arrival of the demons broke his concentration enough that he lost sight of the wall of fear. He grasped for it once more, searching with the Eye, but he could not find it. He sensed the modes of his fellow-if lesser-Loremasters thrusting forward, and by following them tried to determine if they were still interacting with the wizards' power.

Ah! There it was! Writhing like a headless serpent, thrashing about madly. The wall flexed and rippled like a sail billowing in a maelstrom. It was withdrawing, moving back toward its original position. He was sure of it. The power calmed as it withdrew, becoming stronger and more coherent as it receded back toward its point of origin.

Olo'kidare laughed. Demons flew above him as the siege engines hurled boulders toward their enemy's stronghold. He did not care. He had beaten the wizards' power, forced it to retreat. A victory he could take to the Wahtar. He had seen, understood, acted, and won.

"Loremasters, to me!" he shouted. "I know how we can penetrate the wall of fear!"

"Venegreh preserve us," said the Archmage. "They're disrupting the terror spells."

"I thought their power couldn't harm yours?" said the Lord Commander. "That they were too dissimilar to interact."

"They are dissimilar, but perhaps not as much as we thought. They're doing something to cause the barrier to lose cohesion. We have to move it back."

Whatever Medril was about to say was cut off when demons began to appear above the Havalqa forward line. More than a score of the shrieking creatures were suddenly racing toward Hethnost, spread out along the length of the Hammdras. The Lord Commander bellowed for his archers and crossbowmen to shoot as soon as the creatures were in range.

"Will the Forbiddings stop them?" he asked the Archmage.

"Not for long. And we can't create enough to block them all."

"Then we'll have to pray that Warden Khazuzili's spell will work."

Gerin and Balan were on the far side of the gate tower roof from the Archmage and Lord Commander Medril. The two men watched the demons approach while the Havalqa siege engines continued to throw boulders at the fortress. Most were now striking the Hammdras directly. Others smashed against the Forbiddings and tumbled to the earth. Gerin could see the spells weakening with each impact and knew they would collapse before long, especially with the demons on their way. The wizards would have to divert their powers to fighting the creatures.

Balandrick drew his sword and inscribed a small circle in the air with its point, rotating his wrist to keep it loose.

"We need to get off this roof," said Gerin. "Archmage! Lord Commander!" he called out. "We should move to the Hammdras. Once the Forbiddings are down, we'll be vulnerable to those siege engines." At least on the wall they had room in which to avoid the incoming boulders.

Medril nodded his agreement and ushered the Archmage after them. They descended two flights of stairs and exited a door that led to the wall-walk of the Hammdras. Wizards and soldiers of the Sunrise Guard were rushing about, organizing themselves to face this new threat.

Hollin appeared before them. "Archmage, we can't hold the Forbiddings in place any longer. With the demons almost here-"

"I understand," she said. "Do as you must."

He turned to Gerin. "Come."

Gerin and Balandrick followed Hollin along the wall-walk as the older wizard shouted orders to allow the Forbiddings to collapse.

Hollin led them toward a cl.u.s.ter of wizards. Abaru and Kirin were among them. Nyene was present as well, angrily prowling the wall-walk like a caged cat, knives in both hands.

"When will these cowards send men to fight us?" she snarled. "I have no use for monsters or magic."

"I understand those sentiments more than you know," said Balandrick.

"Here they come!" shouted a soldier standing at the battlements.

Sword and staff in his hands, Gerin drew magic into himself and fashioned Khazuzili's spell.