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The Citadel Page 12
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He noted a slight trembling in her voice. “It’s probably just out of sight, maybe where the dragon flew. We need to get nearer.” It would not do, though, for all of them to go flying over Norwych. It made sense for the cleric and him to do so, but the rest were better off waiting in safety. “Get me near enough to shout to Captain Bakal!”
Serene touched the griffon’s side gently, and the beast immediately veered toward the officer’s mount. From Bakal’s expression, he knew that Tyros had something in mind.
“We need to find a place to land!” the Red Robe cried. “Then Serene and I will fly over Norwych to look things over!”
The scarred warrior shook his head. “I should be the one going, mage! This is a battle situation!”
They had no time to argue, and Bakal did have a point. “All right. We go, but your men wait. Rapp! Can you make the griffons understand?”
“They’ll listen, Tyros. I’ll make them behave and not try to bite the men or drop them or—”
“Just make certain that they behave, please!”
As they neared the island, Tyros saw that the plumes of smoke were thicker than he had imagined. Much of Norwych must have been aflame at some point. He eyed the hills and woods coming up on the west coast. Would even those be safe?
Of the dragons, he could see nothing. Perhaps only one still lived, although Tyros doubted that he could be so fortunate.
The cleric tugged on his sleeve. “That spot looks good. We’ll land there.”
He stared at where she pointed, unable to see any difference between one wooded hill and another. “Why there?”
“I can sense its tranquility. Cadrio’s warriors haven’t intruded upon it. I would know!”
Still not quite certain he understood, Tyros nevertheless indicated to Rapp and Bakal where to land. If a cleric of Branchala thought a forest region safe, then he would trust her instinct.
The griffons dropped smoothly among the trees. For such large beasts, they moved with grace whether in the air or on the ground. Tyros would have admired them further, but he and the rest of the party had to remain wary of possible danger. Perhaps the invaders hadn’t intruded in this region, but that didn’t mean that the group could relax. The wizard looked up, seeking some sign of the dragons. It would take only one glance by either behemoth to turn this quest into a deadly disaster.
The moment the griffons came to a stop, the party immediately dismounted. Bakal’s men quickly searched the surrounding area, finding nothing of consequence. While Rapp led the animals to a nearby stream, the wizard and the captain at last went about the task of explaining their intention.
Trained soldiers they might be, but here at last Bakal faced some threat of insubordination. Fighting in battle was one thing; being left with a pride of massive carnivorous animals was another.
“You can’t leave us here with those man-eaters!” one snarled.
Returning with the griffons, Rapp immediately jumped to the defense of his flock. “They wouldn’t eat a man. At least I don’t think so, because I’ve never seen them do it, although they might have while I was away or sleeping—”
“Hush, Rapp.” Serene stepped between the men and the griffons. “They won’t harm you. I promise that.”
It took more calming words from the cleric and a few threats from their captain before the men finally gave in. As an added measure, Serene had Rapp move the griffons some distance away and order them to stay there.
“This is strictly reconnaissance,” Bakal reminded the men. “We’ll be back before long.”
Tyros and Serene rode together again, which pleased the wizard. The cleric’s distant attitude had faded as anticipation of finally locating the citadel had taken over.
Serene leaned near him as they approached the storm. “Those clouds look even blacker than before!”
The storm had indeed grown worse. Perhaps that explained why they hadn’t yet seen the flying citadel. Damaged as it was by the attack on Gwynned, it likely suffered in the fierce winds. Cadrio no doubt had ordered it above the low cloud cover.
They flew within sight of the city walls, already fearful of what they might see below. This close, Tyros could hear the sound of sporadic combat, the clash of arms, the cries of men.
“Do we dare fly over the city?” Serene asked him.
Tyros scanned the sky but still saw no sign of citadel, dragons, or even gargoyles. That and the overcast sky gave him some confidence. “If we make it fast. We’ll circle once, maybe twice, then leave.”
“No more than that.” She shivered. “I have a bad feeling about this place.…”
He, too, felt that something out of the ordinary had struck the seaport, and as the griffons raced over the walls, Tyros saw that their fears had been justified.
“What’s happened to Norwych?” Serene called out, horrified.
Tyros couldn’t answer; he was too busy gaping. He thought about what Gwynned had suffered even in victory and knew that somehow Cadrio had learned from that mistake. Norwych had paid dearly for the lesson.
The seaport had been turned to rubble. Walls and buildings for as far as the eye could see had been crushed. It looked as if someone had dropped another city on top of Norwych, so thorough was the destruction. Few structures over two stories remained standing, and most of those had suffered much damage. Fire and smoke rose up from everywhere, most of the flames clearly left unchecked by the inhabitants.
“It’s gone!” the cleric gasped. “Norwych has been utterly destroyed!”
Tyros said nothing, more concerned at the moment with the soldiers he had noticed. Ranks of ebony-armored warriors moved methodically through the ruins, ferreting out all resistance. He saw one local cut down by a pair of the invaders, and although it was too late for the mage to do anything, Tyros still wished he could have burned the soldiers on the spot.
In the distance, the sails of Cadrio’s fleet rose high. There would be no escape through the port. Tyros counted at least eight vessels in the invading fleet but expected there were more nearby.
Somewhere below had to be General Cadrio himself. Tyros wondered what would happen if his band managed to capture or kill the enemy commander. He started watching for banners, guards, anything that would indicate the presence of the man.
They finished a circle around Norwych, seeing devastation everywhere but still no evidence of the citadel’s presence. Tyros looked for Bakal and finally spotted the other griffon in the growing haze. The captain pointed at something within the city.
“Bakal seems almost frantic,” the wary spellcaster informed Serene. “Do you see anything?”
The cleric looked to where the soldier pointed. “All I see is a collapsed building … but from the look of the wreckage, it must have been gigantic!”
“He wants us to fly over it.”
The cleric had their mount turn, Rapp doing the same with the other. The griffons soared nearer to the huge ruin, which, for reasons Tyros could not yet put his finger on, looked familiar.
“There’s something strange about this,” Serene called. “It almost looks as if Cadrio’s soldiers destroyed not only the building but the hill it stood upon, too!”
A hill that looked out of place to Tyros. He leaned forward, trying to picture the building whole. A castle of some sort, he finally decided. The design didn’t match the rounded structures of Norwych, but it did remind him of something else.…
The cleric suddenly gripped him tighter. “Tyros … that’s not part of the city.”
She knew it, too. She knew what they looked down at, what Captain Bakal had been trying to tell them.
The flying citadel, the point of their individual quests, had been destroyed, taking the port city with it.
* * * * *
Stone fluttered through Norwych, doing his part to search for the enemy. He hadn’t located any. The dwellers of this place were either dead or gone into hiding. The gargoyle looked around at the ruins as he flew, thinking of all the wasted roofs and overha
ngs. Norwych had had many fine places upon which to perch, but no longer.
He wasted his time here, just as he wasted so much of it for Valkyn. How he hated the robed one. Crag enjoyed the chaos and destruction that Valkyn brought forth, but Stone preferred the silent solitude of the wilderness, where he and his kindred could live without the interference of humans, dwarves, and other races. And especially where no wizards could force his kind to obedience with the use of fiery spells that left scorched earth and the twisted gargoyle corpses of those who had defied him.
The sleek gray figure paused atop a leaning roof, adjusting himself as best as he could to compensate for its instability. Blood-red eyes gazed around, finding little of interest. This hunt had been played out; it was time to move on. The humans, though, still sought treasures and the like, interests which the gargoyle only vaguely understood. What use were things that could not be eaten?
He yawned, displaying an impressive array of sharp teeth. Stone knew that he couldn’t delay his return much longer. Crag would use any excuse to diminish his rival in the eyes of Valkyn.
The gargoyle stretched his wings, preparing to fly. However, something at the very edge of his vision caught his attention. Stone looked up, searching the tempestuous heavens.
And then he saw them, the winged creatures, the four figures. Most of all, he saw the tall one clad in the crimson robe, the same color Valkyn had once worn.
“You …” Stone growled.
The gargoyle darted up into the air.
Chapter 8
Deceptions
Cadrio walked through the ruins of Norwych, growing less and less satisfied. Oh, his men were happy enough. Looting always raised morale, but as he partook of the destruction around him, he realized how little this victory could be called his own. Had he been in control of Atriun, the general would have felt different. No, this victory he owed completely to Valkyn … and Cadrio disliked owing anyone.
He had to somehow gain control of the flying citadel, of that he had no doubt. At some point, the wizard had to come down, if only to give new orders.
“Caaadriooo …”
At first he didn’t recognize his own name, since the cry was so drawn out and beastly-sounding. Timinion and Zander, who had been following at a respectful distance, immediately drew their blades and flanked him.
One of the mage’s pet gargoyles perched on a broken wall, the savage beast tipping his head as he stared at the humans. From the three horns and immense size, Cadrio deduced the gargoyle to be Crag. Valkyn seemed to prefer to use Crag instead of Stone, a fact that the general filed away for possible later interest. Unlike Crag, who obeyed Valkyn with eagerness, Stone seemed to resent his servitude, something that perhaps Cadrio could make use.
“Swords down.” He didn’t want the monster to think that Cadrio feared him. “What is it?”
In reply, the gargoyle tossed a scroll toward him. Cadrio casually reached down and picked it up, pretending for the messenger’s sake that he cared little what Valkyn wanted to relay. Inside, however, the lanky warrior seethed. Now what did his so-called ally want?
The test is a success. It is time to move on now. Be prepared to set sail at dawn, the message began, an ominous and frustrating command. His men had not yet had time to completely scour Norwych, not to mention the wild lands beyond the city. It never paid to leave things half done. No one liked a vengeful foe suddenly turning up behind him.
Your destination is Northern Ergoth’s southern coast. The point is marked on the map I have drawn below. You will wait there until I send further information.
Ignoring the map for the moment, Cadrio turned the paper over, looking for more explanation. Nothing. He confronted the gargoyle. “This is it? This is all he says?”
Crag eyed him like a potential meal. “Will not obey?”
General Cadrio bristled, but otherwise held his temper in check. “Tell Valkyn that we’ll sail tomorrow.”
Once more Crag’s monstrous expression seemed to hint at amusement … or mockery. “Will tell Maaaster …”
The gargoyle suddenly leaped toward the humans. As his aides rushed forward to defend him, Cadrio ducked, frantically reaching for his own blade. However, instead of falling upon them, the savage gargoyle flew skyward, at the same time emitting a throaty rumble that sounded like laughter.
“I swear I’ll have that one skinned and used for boot leather!” the general roared as Zander helped him up.
Zander leaned near. “Sir, how long must we deal with this mage? He and his creatures mock us at every turn, and now we must obey his commands! Surely Valkyn intends himself to be the new Dragon Highlord—nay, the new Emperor of Ansalon—instead of you, despite his words to the contrary!”
Timinion looked around nervously. “Careful, you fool! We’ve no idea how many more of those beasts might be listening! Do you want them to tell the mage that we plot against him?”
“Better we take what we are due than follow around like lackeys!”
“Strong words until Atriun comes floating over our heads and burns us to a crisp!”
Cadrio came between his two warring officers. “Be still, both of you, or I’ll have your heads!”
Both men immediately quieted down. Cadrio stared at the pair a minute longer, then shifted his gaze skyward, where Crag had dwindled to a speck, at last vanishing into the clouds.
“We’ll soon remedy the imbalance,” he announced. “I’ve already had enough of this alliance. In fact, I’ve something in mind that must be done before we leave Norwych. Mean-while, we follow the wizard’s dictates and make preparations to leave. We’ll pretend that all is right in the world and we don’t mind being servants instead of the allies he claims us to be. Understood?” Zander and Timinion nodded. “Good! Timinion, sound the call for withdrawal. Go!” Cadrio smiled as the aide departed. “Come with me, Zander. We must speak with the dragons. There’s a certain gargoyle who might be useful to us.…”
* * * * *
The citadel lay in ruins, its last task the death of Norwych.
Tyros felt the blood drain from his face as the griffon again circled over the wreckage. Behind him, Serene’s body shook as she no doubt thought about her lost love. The stunned mage stared at the fragments, as if somehow he had the power to will the flying castle back into one piece.
What had happened? Had Norwych had dragons protecting it? If so, where had they gone after downing the castle? Surely the twin black dragons had not managed to kill them.
A shape in the distance caught his attention. At first he thought it was one of the griffons. The animals had a fondness for Rapp and more than one had wanted to accompany them. Yet this looked to be a slightly smaller creature, something about the size of a man.
Or a gargoyle.
This one had three horns and looked far uglier than the pair Tyros had confronted in Gwynned. He watched it fly up into the clouds. “Serene! Did you see that? Make the griffon go up! I want to follow that gargoyle … from a distance!”
“What about the dragons?”
“Please!”
With much reluctance, she directed the griffon upward. Bakal and Rapp followed, the captain not at all thrilled by the prospect. The winds rocked the riders, but the griffons compensated. Tyros and Serene pulled up their hoods as moisture began to cover them.
“I don’t see a thing, Tyros! Shouldn’t we turn back?”
“We won’t go far.”
Bakal and Rapp popped in and out of sight as they ascended. Rapp brought his own griffon nearer so that the pair wouldn’t become separated, but even then the others still occasionally vanished. Tyros began to consider turning back.
Without warning, they burst into an open area where thunder roared and lightning flashed. The griffons hesitated. Tyros nearly had Serene make them descend. Then a great flash illuminated the region, and all four travelers beheld a sight that made everything else pale.
Tyros could barely believe his eyes. A second, more astounding citadel floated
among the storm clouds, a leviathan compared to the ruined castle below. With its dark stone and high walls, it seemed as much a part of the threatening weather as the lightning and thunder. Occasional flashes of crimson and yellow gave it an ominous appearance, and the mage half-expected to see ghosts haunting its battlements.
Whether or not ghosts haunted it, gargoyles certainly did. Not only did he spot the one that they had shadowed, but scores more fluttered above and around the astonishing fortress. A shiver ran through Tyros. These creatures served the same master responsible for Leot’s disappearance and his own near-kidnapping.
“Atriun! By the Bard King’s harp, it’s Castle Atriun!”
Serene’s shocked words caught him by surprise. “You know that fortress?”
“It’s the castle of Atriun, a small, secluded province. It was originally built by a mad Solamnic Knight, but it’s long been abandoned.” She gripped his arm tightly. “Do you see what this means? We still have a chance to find those we sought!”
Tyros had actually been thinking how this gave him the chance to bring back an even greater prize than originally planned. He turned his face from hers, pretending to wipe away moisture. She worried about her love and Leot; he had only been thinking of glory. The mage felt disgust for himself.
He stared at the massive citadel. “I want to get nearer!”
“It’s too dangerous. Look at all those gargoyles!”
She had a point. This would require stealth. But what could he do? Tyros hadn’t expected so many gargoyles, nor had he thought to confront so deadly a citadel. His entire plan had been based on the crippled older castle, not this imposing edifice.
The winds and rain grew harsher. They couldn’t stay here any longer, much less attempt to infiltrate the castle. Bakal waved, clearly wanting to descend. Tyros nodded, bitter to be so near and yet unable to continue. He would be back, though.
The griffons descended, eager to return to better climes. The animals grew even happier when they left the foul clouds; their wings beat faster as they soared in the direction of the camp. Tyros rode in silence, trying to formulate a plan for his next visit. If he could somehow draw the gargoyles away …