Part 18 (1/2)
”I am not certain. It lies deep within the Forest of Lirda, an extensive imperial hunting preserve in the Collum foothills forbidden to ordinary folk. A small army could conceal itself in those woods easily, then advance upon Brandoba by night, taking advantage of the celebration.”
”That's old Oro's style,” drawled Ledavardis. ”Cras.h.i.+ng the Emperor's birthday party! Remember how he broke up Yon-drimel's coronation?”
”No one,” Anigel said grimly, ”remembers it more vividly than I. For it was then that you conspired with Orogastus to seize my husband and children.”
The Pirate King looked abashed. ”It was not me, but my evil grandmother-may G.o.d rot her. And I have already begged your forgiveness for my inadvertent complicity, future Mother-in-Law.”
Anigel said nothing.
Gyorgibo spoke with impatience. ”How will we command the Great Viaduct to open for us? When I was kidnapped, the gateway was invisible until Naelore spoke some magic charm that caused it to appear. But I could not hear what she said.”
”I know the words,” Anigel a.s.sured them. ”Now we must leave this place, taking with us a few weapons from the armory for our friends.”
”And the rest of the prisoners?” Jiri murmured.
Shaking her head, Anigel motioned for the others to precede her. The gate of bars at the prison entry, left open when the sergeant escorted the Queen of Galanar on her visit, slammed shut and locked when Anigel touched it with her amulet. The prisoners left behind immediately began raging and cursing.
As she turned to go, Anigel caught Sergeant Vann's eye. He sat on the floor of the first cell, helpless to rise without his wooden leg, a sardonic smile on his face. ”Smartly done, madam,” said he. ”Very smartly done, indeed. But watch out for the she-devil Naelore. Her Imperial Highness doesn't believe in ghosts.”
The Queen nodded. ”Thank you for the warning, Sergeant. And I hope you will enjoy your ruby.” *
Chapter Nineteen.
THEY came down the wide corridor toward the barbican at a clattering gallop, with the headless ghost in the lead. The other eight riders wore long cloaks with hoods that concealed their faces. They brandished lighted torches and wailed like d.a.m.ned souls as they drew up before the tall main gate in the barbican, wheeling their antlered steeds about and making as much commotion as possible. When the bewildered men-at-arms came das.h.i.+ng out of the guardhouse they fell back at the sight of the ghost, which had jumped down from its fronial's back. The disembodied armor glowed from within like some human-shaped lantern. It waved a decrepit sword, capered and howled and threatened doom and destruction, while its mounted companions rampaged about the forecourt, scattering sparks from their torches.
Before the watch captain could collect himself and give a coherent order, the dancing spectre reached the sally port, a small door in the gate's left side through which a single rider might pa.s.s at a time. A spark of light whisked over the iron locks and the two beams of timber that barred the port, and it flew wide open. The apparition gave a shriek of triumph. Cloaks flying, the fire-bearing troop thundered through the port.
”Doom!” screamed the ghost, catching the reins of its own steed and swinging into the saddle. ”Flaming doom to those who follow us!” Then it was off, and the sally port slammed shut by some enchantment and barred itself once again. Nothing the guards could do would force it open, nor could they open the main gate itself.
”Sound the alarm!” cried the watch captain. ”Summon the Star Men!” He still had no clear idea of what had happened, but he was a veteran officer and intended to do the proper thing: pa.s.s responsibility on to a higher authority.
The people in the castle dithered for some time at the inexplicably impa.s.sible gate. Both of the Star Men, along with the castellan, the seneschal, and the other senior servants summoned from the great hall, were fuddled by hours of drinking. Axes were brought to bear, but it was plain that it would take hours to hew through the thick wood. Then the trussed-up hostlers in the stables were discovered (although no one yet thought to inspect the dungeon) and the ident.i.ty of the ghostly riders became clear.
The calamity served to sober one young Star Man, who finally thought to fetch his own wondrous weapon of the Vanished Ones. It emitted a thin beam of scarlet light capable of melting metal or stone, and sliced through the sally port like a rapier through curds. By then the escapees had gained a precious quarter-hour's head start.
”Shall-shall we use our Stars to inform the Master?” The sorcerer whose brain was still befogged by liquor spoke privately to his more alert colleague.
”Better wait until we've recaptured the hostages,” said the second Guildsman, after a moment's thought. ”We wouldn't want to worry him needlessly, would we?”
They a.s.sembled a party of thirty mounted warriors and set off in pursuit.
The wind smelled of approaching rain and needletree resin, the clouds had thickened, and without a torch Anigel could scarcely see the steep trail zigzagging down the castle hill. ”Holy Flower, give me more light!”
The amulet on its neck-chain shone brighter, and she urged her fronial along in the wake of her torch-bearing companions. As she rode she tore off the old helmet and discarded the steel-studded leather gauntlets that had helped to sustain her ghostly disguise. There was no way, short of stopping and dismounting, that she could free herself of the onerous mail s.h.i.+rt or release the buckles of the greaves that chafed her legs; but a halt now was out of the question. She must ride flat-out as the others were doing, in spite of the growing discomfort, and pray that the amber's magic had rendered the castle gate impossible to open.
I'm free! she said to herself.
Oddly enough, no exultation warmed her heart. Now that the initial elation of the escape had waned, she found herself becoming dazed and lethargic. Her self-confidence faltered, and the trust in the Black Trillium that had sustained her until now seemed to trickle out of her soul like water draining from a sh.o.r.e pool at ebb tide.
Anigel half lay on the fronial's broad neck, her hands clutching the reins and the horrible weight of the hauberk's iron meshes bruising her shoulders through the thin fabric of her gown. The beast jolted and skidded down the rocky track, but its splayed hoofs did not lose their purchase. Around her, the needletree forest covering the slope was a blur of trunks with spindly branches far overhead. She felt chilled and exhausted, and it was no wonder. She had, after all, only awakened that morning from an enchanted sleep of six days-healed, in truth, but nonetheless deficient in bodily strength.
It began to drizzle.
Anigel clicked her tongue at the fronial, telling it to go faster, but the creature's instincts countermanded her order and it would proceed only at a wary trot. The trail had become too steep for speed, switching constantly back and forth and forcing sharp turns.
The drizzle intensified, becoming a light but steady rain.
In minutes Anigel was soaked, for she did not think to put on the military cloak lashed to the saddle behind her. Jouncing, battered, and thoroughly miserable, she gave her mount its head.
Suddenly the fronial squealed and came to a halt. She discovered that she was in the midst of her fellow escapees, several of whom had dismounted and were conferring anxiously. They had paused in the area of burnt snags near the foot of the hill, just above the deadly gas-filled bowl.
Hakit Botal, who was among those standing, spoke in a grating voice to Gyorgibo. ”What do you mean, there is a possibility it won't ignite properly in the rain?”
”I can only tell you what I learned during my months in the dungeon,” the Archduke said. ”There have been occasions when rain caused the flammable exhalations to explode, rather than catch fire. The trees would then burst into flame and people were sometimes struck dead by the great concussion, even though they stood well back from the brink.”
”But there's no other way out!” Ga-Bondies moaned.
”I only wanted you to know the risk,” the Sobranian said.
”I have not come this far only to surrender and return to the dungeon!” Hakit snarled at Gyorgibo. ”Are you too cowardly to make the attempt? Then give me the torch!”
”Jumped-up clerk!” Gyorgibo sneered. ”You know nothing of the geysers' peril!”
Jiri of Galanar said, ”Cease your wrangling, for the love of the G.o.ddess! Here is our leader, and she will say what we are to do. Help the poor la.s.s to dismount and shed that armor. She is drenched to the skin.”
Jiri and King Ledavardis a.s.sisted Anigel, putting on her a thick woolen robe and a hooded cloak. When she was warmly attired they all regarded her expectantly.
She said in a dull voice, ”Gyorgibo, are you willing to light the gas, even though there is danger?”
”Yes,” he said simply. ”All of you mount and make ready.”
The Sobranian drew a short-sword he had taken from the armory, hewed down a scorched sapling, and chopped off its limbs. The resulting pole was twice a man's height. Gyorgibo then lashed one of the pitch-torches to the end of the pole and set off down the trail on foot, holding the flaming brand before him. ”Follow me and bring my steed,” he called, ”but stay at least a stone's throw back.”
The air was still, with only a faint miasmic scent, and the only sounds were the plopping of fronial hooves, the rattle of pebbles, and the whisper of the gentle rain. At length they came to a s.p.a.ce that was open and level, devoid of any vegetation. It fell away to the valley floor in a glacis about twenty ells high.
Cautioning the others not to approach, Gyorgibo crept to the rim of the basin on his hands and knees, then dipped the torch-pole downward.
A deafening crackle shook the ground, followed by a slow, sonorous whoomph.
The first ignition was a blue-white flare. This bloomed into a flattened, glowing ball of dazzling orange-red that expanded just below the drop-off. As the Archduke scuttled back to the others, who were keeping control of their panicked mounts with difficulty, a loud hissing commenced, punctuated by many smaller explosions. Narrow veins of azure fire like branched lightning raced out across the basin in all directions, traveling at a height of about five ells. The fiery network thickened and turned to a sheet of golden luminescence that entirely filled the depression. A moment later countless flaming geysers erupted into life, and the incandescent mist faded away.
The Eternal Prince and Eternal Princess burst into applause.