The Citadel Read online

  Tyros frowned. “The war is over, Captain.”

  “Not for some. The Dark Queen may be gone, but very few of her puppets have cut their strings. They still dance to her tune, even if they think they’re writing their own music now.”

  “You are somewhat of a poet, Bakal,” Tyros said wryly. He looked around and saw table after table piled with objects covered by sheets. Some of the shrouded objects looked uncomfortably like bodies. Tyros thought of Leot and grew unsteady.

  “Easy, boy. Didn’t think you’d be so touched by this.”

  “Where—where is he?” Tyros breathed.

  “The White Robe’s not here, Tyros. Come on.”

  “Wait a moment!” Tyros called, reaching out for the officer. “You mean Leot isn’t dead?”

  Bakal replied simply, “I never said that.”

  Frustrated, Tyros hurried to catch up, only to have the scarred veteran suddenly pause at one of the nearby tables. The mage looked past him, noting with unease the vague shape beneath and torn and stained officer’s cloak.

  Bakal eyed the shape. “This is what I wanted you to see.”

  Tyros lifted a corner of the cloak from the corpse, pulled it aside, and gaped. “What in the—”

  “Do you know what you’ve looking at, boy?”

  He did, yet he did not. A face from his nightmares confronted Tyros: the long, sharp horns; the hard, leathery beak; the jagged, flesh-tearing teeth. Only the burning, pupilless eyes remained hidden, the monster’s lids closed in death.

  “You’ve seen it before, haven’t you, mage?”

  “The tower … I saw it there.”

  “And we found it near there … near where you lay, in fact. Do you know what it is, Tyros?” Bakal watched him closely.

  “It reminds me of something from my schooling, but it’s not quite as I recall it.”

  “In Gwynned, we’d call it a gargoyle. ’Course, in Gwynned, we’d only see them in drawings and statues. There shouldn’t be any gargoyles in Northern Ergoth, boy.”

  “A gargoyle …” Tyros stared at the taloned monstrosity, shivering at the memory of his encounter.

  “I’ve seen them, Tyros, and they’re a savage lot, but this one’s not quite the same as those I’ve seen. Stronger and somehow smarter-looking. I could name a dozen more differences, but the question is why it’s here at all. Do you know, perhaps?”

  “Why would I know? The first time I ever saw one of these creatures was when it tried to attack me in the tower.”

  “Attack you … or take you prisoner?”

  Tyros recalled how the gargoyle could have simply torn out the back of his neck, but had seized him instead. “But why would it want to do that?”

  “Why would they take two other wizards?”

  “Two other—” The weary mage’s mouth grew slack. He stared at the captain, shock turning to anger. “You damned bastard! What do you know? Tyros used his free hand to seize the soldier by the cord of his cape. Bakal stared back. All arrogance had drained from Tyros. “What do you mean by that? You are not certain what’s happened to Leot, are you? You think one of these horrors took him, don’t you?”

  Bakal removed the wizard’s hand. “Two of your kind are missing. Leot and Kendilious, of your own order. We don’t know what’s happened to Leot, but old Kendilious … you remember him?”

  Kendilious. Tyros remembered a crotchety old mage past his prime who lived to preach to the younger mages that they knew nothing of the sacrifices a true wizard needed to make. In fact, Tyros couldn’t recall the man ever talking about anything else. And since they had both followed Lunitari, Kendilious had taken special relish in admonishing his youthful counterpart, who, according to the elder, had more ambition than caution.

  “We had us a witness, boy. A member of the guard. Questioned him thoroughly. He and another man were heading for the ruins of your tower, and as they neared, one looked up. Claims he heard fluttering and thought a draconian might be gliding down on them. What he saw instead was a winged form going up, bearing with it a bald figure in red robes. From his description and the fact that there’s only a handful of your kind here, we pieced together that it had to be Kendilious.”

  “And what about Leot? He saw nothing of Leot?”

  Bakal shook his head. “Nothing, but a gargoyle like this took the old wizard … and since we can’t find the body of your friend anywhere, not even in the rubble, I’d venture to say that he’s also been captured.”

  Tyros envisioned Leot being dragged off by such a creature. His friend might still be alive, but headed for what fate? “Why would they want us? Why would gargoyles risk death in the midst of a battle to capture wizards?”

  “The command’s still debating that one, and so are your superiors, too, boy.”

  “They know already?”

  “Aye, and they’re a mite too curious. We finally gleaned from them that some others have gone missing in recent times, the latest being a pair of your crimson lads.”

  “Two more?”

  The captain nodded gravely. “Of course, there’s still one more question, one that I was hoping you might answer for me. I’m assuming you didn’t kill this beast.”

  “No. It caught me by surprise. I’m not responsible for its death, if that’s what you mean.” He frowned. “I just assumed it must have injured itself when it flew me out of the collapsing tower.”

  “Reasonable assumption.” The graying officer removed the old cloak. “Help me roll this thing over.”

  Tyros stiffened. “The gargoyle?”

  “Do it, boy.”

  With Bakal doing most of the work, they soon had the creature on its back. The technical side of Tyros couldn’t help but admire the wingspan of the gargoyle and how those wings were attached. Yet all the while he noticed the gaping wound that had finally killed it, a great gash at the back of the neck.

  “You see what I mean?” the captain commented.

  “No.” One wound looked like another to the wizard. Had something jagged caught the gargoyle as it flew out of the tower?

  The soldier sighed. “Save me from school-taught warriors! That gargoyle had its neck torn out from behind, probably while it was in flight with you! You’re lucky you didn’t drop to your death. I’d say the thing lived long enough to flutter to just above the ground, then lost its grip on you. It went a little farther, then died.”

  “I was fortunate, then.”

  “More than fortunate; your being here comes just short of a miracle. Don’t you understand yet what I’m getting at?”

  Tyros despised being talked to as if he were an ignorant child, but he truly did not comprehend yet. “Enlighten me.”

  “Oh, I will! See those claws? I checked them out myself, boy! They’d be just about right to do such mayhem. Draconians wouldn’t leave his kind of mess, even if they did decide to use their talons instead of a good blade. Something either similar or exactly like this gargoyle killed the beast as it tried to make off with you.”

  “That makes no sense. You’re saying that one of its own kind killed it?”

  Bakal nodded. “And therein lies the question command and your superiors are going to have fun with. Bad enough we don’t know why they’d want you, but who, by the Abyss, saved your worthless hide, Tyros?”

  Chapter 3

  Atriun

  The journey to Atriun had been both tedious and difficult. Sailing the New Sea without being noticed had been trouble enough, but the longer they sailed, the more General Cadrio noted hints of insubordination. Zander had dealt quickly and efficiently with those hints so far, maintaining his commander’s power. Still, even Cadrio’s second had commented that matters would only grow worse. The mage’s plan had to show promise quickly. Otherwise the general would have his head on a lance, magic tricks or not.

  Near the southern edge of old Solamnia, they disembarked. Leaving Zander in control, Cadrio and his personal guards, all clad in travel cloaks, rode into obscure Atriun.

  Once a part
of Solamnia but now virtually unclaimed by any country, Atriun consisted mostly of hills, forest, and the empty ruins of a magnificent estate built by an eccentric knight. The riders passed a few ruined peasant houses overrun by nature and what had once been wheat fields. Some fruit trees clearly imported long, long ago from Ergoth dotted the landscape, but for the most part, only ghosts lived here now.

  And they could have found no more appropriate dwelling than the Castle of Atriun.

  In the dwindling light of sunset, it took on an even more sinister look. What had urged the Solamnic Knight to build such a structure, General Cadrio could not say. The place seemed better suited to the mind-set of one of the Dragon Highlords, even Ariakas himself.

  The massive walled castle stood in stark contrast to its empty surroundings, an imperial fortress in a land that had ever been sparsely populated. Had the entire Solamnic brotherhood chosen to depart Vingaard Keep, they would have had to look no farther than Atriun for an appropriate base. Yet Atriun’s wonder had a baleful feel to it that likely would have sent them riding off again, in part because both citadel and surrounding wall had been constructed from a dark, forbidding rock. Cadrio knew of no quarry within five days’ ride where such rock could be found, but it wouldn’t have surprised him if the insane knight had shipped it from far away.

  The outer wall stood two stories tall, much higher than this desolate land dictated. The battlements of the wall had been designed to accommodate a vast array of archers. The only entrance to the castle remained a high wooden drawbridge, surprisingly, still up, that, when lowered, would stretch across the deep, algae-encrusted moat surrounding the shadowy edifice. Cadrio pondered the massive effort it must have taken to dig the impressive moat.

  Above the outer wall rose the citadel itself, a gargantuan rectangular structure at least four times the height of the wall and flanked by squat twin towers. Across the uppermost levels of the central building ran several large arched balconies worthy of an imperial palace.

  Cadrio could see little more of the castle from his present location save for the third and final tower, this one taller than the flanking pair and positioned over the center of the main castle. The general nearly dismissed it, then noticed a glimmer of light flash from within.

  “He couldn’t be that ambitious,” Cadrio muttered.

  “General! What excellent timing!”

  The horses spooked. Cadrio forced his mount to calm, then looked over his shoulder to glare at the ebony-cloaked figure who had not been there a moment before.

  “Valkyn! The Queen take you! I’ve killed men for less than that!”

  The dark wizard’s smile only stretched further, but his voice carried a deadly chill. “The war has made you a little jumpy, my general! Forgive my enthusiasm. I’d not expected you for another day or two! I thought I’d have to put off the event until then, but now everything can proceed as planned.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that,” someone in back muttered.

  The general ignored the offender. He eyed the mage with suspicion, trying to keep his tone confident. “All well and good, then, Valkyn. I’d like my ships out of the New Sea as soon as possible, so if we can get this done with now, I’ll be pleased.”

  The goateed figure shook his head. “Good heavens, no, my general! Not that swift. I must still make some adjustments! This will be a marvel such as has never graced Krynn, I promise you! Tomorrow will do well enough.”

  As if Cadrio had any choice. “I’ll be patient … for now.”

  “Of course you will … and so will your twin pets.”

  Valkyn had detected Murk and Eclipse in the vicinity. The commander silently cursed. He wondered if he had inherited the most inept pair of dragons in all of Krynn. First they had allowed their inexperience and overenthusiasm to set them against two gold leviathans; now they couldn’t even hide from one wizard. Legend had it that such a rarity among dragon kind as twins heralded creatures of great destiny, but for beings already twice the general’s age if not more, the beasts had shown nothing but incompetence.

  “They won’t cause any trouble.”

  Valkyn chuckled. “Oh, I know they won’t.” Turning, the cloaked mage indicated the castle. “Come. Atriun awaits!”

  With a rusty groan that set Cadrio’s teeth on edge, the drawbridge began to lower. The horses grew uneasy again. The commander immediately urged his mount forward, determined not to weaken himself in the eyes of the others. His personal guards followed reluctantly, more willing to fight sword to sword than against magic. Still, if Valkyn had meant them harm, he would have struck before now, not lured them into his sanctum.

  Besides, Cadrio would have almost risked the Abyss for a second chance to conquer Gwynned.

  The drawbridge creaked under the heavy hooves of the horses. The general finally exhaled when his mount touched solid ground, an exhalation that faltered as he noticed his surroundings.

  Within the walls, the castle and its grounds proved no less imposing. A vast circular courtyard, made from carved gray stone, solemnly welcomed the newcomers. In the center of the floor, lighter stone formed the faded symbol of a glaring kingfisher. Wilted shrubs lined the edges of the courtyard, leading to two massive iron doors through which one could enter the castle.

  Cadrio glanced left, where a small group of smoke-colored buildings stood, including a stable. The general started to give the command to dismount when a faint sound made him turn his gaze in the opposite direction. At first he saw nothing beyond the courtyard but the remnants of a once-beautiful sculptured garden with tall fruit trees, but then Cadrio noticed movement among the branches. Suspicious, he urged his steed toward the garden.

  The horse snorted, not at all pleased by their nearness to the trees. Cadrio again noticed movement, then caught a glimpse of a winged form the size of a man. The leaves mostly obscured the shape, but the sharp eyes of the general noted an arm, a clawed hand, and the shadow of a muzzled head.

  Glaring back at an unperturbed Valkyn, the lanky officer drew his blade. “Draconians, wizard? Thinking of an ambush?”

  “I have no use for draconians,” the mage returned, his narrow blue eyes staring directly into the general’s. “I’ve seen them in combat too often.”

  “Then what lurks in those trees?”

  “The same thing that lurks all around you, hiding in plain sight atop the walls and roofs, my observant general!”

  “What?” Sword ready, Cadrio looked around, studying the castle carefully. Suddenly he spotted stonelike figures perched in the corners, behind battlements, atop towers. They hadn’t been there before, despite Valkyn’s words. Cadrio and his men would have noticed them … and turned to flee for their lives.

  There had to be a hundred or more of them, leather-winged terrors with horns and beaklike mouths filled with teeth. They stood as tall as draconians, but moved with a much more savage intensity. Fiery, pupilless eyes glared hungrily at the party below, clearly ready to swoop down and rend the throats of the armored figures upon a signal from their master.

  Sesk, the youngest of Cadrio’s men, born among the rough mountains of the east, recognized them first. “Gargoyles,” he breathed.

  “I’ve never seen gargoyles like those,” muttered an older guard.

  “But that’s what they are!” Sesk insisted. “Bigger than most and a little different in look, but that’s—”

  “That’ll be enough of that!” Cadrio barked. He fixed the point of his sword at Valkyn’s throat, ready to carve a second smile on the spellcaster. “Gargoyles or draconians, they may take us, but you’ll not live to enjoy it, traitor!”

  “Oh, do stop the melodramatics.” The general’s sword dipped to the left, passing by Valkyn’s head despite Cadrio’s desires. The Black Robe snapped his fingers and most of the gargoyles faded into the background. “Stone! Crag!”

  From the highest tower dived a huge gargoyle, darker than most and with not two but three thick horns. He had a longer snout and narrow eyes almost akin t
o those of his master. The creature landed scant steps from Valkyn, then fell to one knee in tribute.

  At the same time, another, slightly smaller male burst from the nearest tree. Sleeker, grayer, with two sharp horns and watchful eyes, he, too, landed in a kneeling position. Both stared, untrusting, at the newcomers.

  “Crag, Stone … these men are to be left unharmed. You understand?”

  “As you wish …” the smaller of the two rumbled in an incredibly deep voice.

  Cadrio drew back a little, not having expected to hear anything intelligible. Cautiously he looked the monsters over. Crag, the larger gargoyle, appeared eager for blood. Stone, on the other hand, did not strike Cadrio as entirely pleased with his servitude, as if he would have been as content to slaughter Valkyn as anyone else. The general even thought he saw Stone flash what seemed murderous glances toward Valkyn when he thought no one was looking.

  “You know what punishment you will receive if you don’t.”

  Both leathery furies folded their wings around their bodies, clearly cowed.

  The mage chuckled. “Good. Now return to your places!”

  As Crag and Stone soared off, Cadrio sheathed his blade. “Any more surprises, spellcaster?”

  “Only another introduction, a simple one. Lemual! Open the doors for our visitors. Gentlemen, please stable your horses.”

  The soldiers dismounted, General Cadrio passing the reins of his animal to the nearest man. He followed Valkyn toward the castle doors, which opened as they neared. A ragged bald figure in black cleric’s robes hurried out to greet them, looking more like a menial than one who served the Dark Queen.

  “I’m sorry, Valkyn! You asked me to make the other preparations, so I couldn’t get to—”

  “It’s quite all right, Lemual.”

  Although he had only just met the man, Cadrio could hardly believe that this pig-faced groveler served the goddess Takhisis. How could such a thin, fearful soul ever become a wielder of Her Majesty’s infernal will? The robes had to belong to another.

  Noticing the commander’s expression, Lemual’s gaze dropped in shame. If he was a true cleric of the Dark Queen, Cadrio couldn’t blame him for his embarrassment. What had happened to make him so? Takhisis’s failure to extend her will into the mortal plane had struck her priests hard, but could that have affected the man so much?