Part 45 (1/2)

Prince Gaston had made no effort to conceal the force he had brought with him. Mounted and foot, with wagons carrying dismantled siege equipment, he appeared well-equipped to take on Golias.

Actually, Otto reminded himself, the Fireduke had come to take on Otto and Golias. Well, something could still be salvaged by repenting, begging forgiveness, and becoming a party man. The thought of Ascolet lost forever was unpalatable.

Perhaps, he thought, Dewar was right: they were much alike, being a baron of a large and powerful barony owing fealty to an Emperor and being king of a relatively small and poor kingdom next door to the same. Yet Otto couldn't think that without hateful gall in his throat: to owe fealty to anyone was contrary to his nature, which admitted the superiority of very few others.

Prince Gaston was drawing nearer. Through his spygla.s.s Otto saw him examining the wreckage of Perendlac, frowning.

”Open the gates for him,” Otto said, and swallowed.

The discipline in the Prince Marshal's army was superb. No chatter; alert readiness for action at Gaston's command or gesture; even the mules seemed to step in time. Otto went to the creaking gate and waited there.

”Welcome to Perendlac,” he said. ”Sir.”

Sorcerer and a Qentkman 373.

Prince Gaston reined in, looked at him, looked at the fortress, and lifted his eyebrows, dismounting. The columns of men and animals halted and waited for orders.

”Prospero?”

”I wish it had been,” Otto said, realizing he did. He couldn't look like anything but a milk-mouthed naif to Gaston when he explained what had happened. ”It's not a long story,” he said, and he told it-Prince Golias, hostage, sorceress, and all.

Prince Gaston stood, one hand on his horse's bridle, listening, watching Ottaviano as he spoke, seeing his acute humiliation. The boy had overreached himself. He would pay a penalty now, a severe one, but not as severe as it would have been if he'd not had the good sense to wed the Countess of Lys.

”Chasoulis,” he said when Otto had done. ”A relic, but a strong-walled one.”

”There's a Node there,” Ottaviano said, ”and someone is working a h.e.l.l of a lot of sorcery.”

The Marshal nodded. ”Neyphile,” he said distastefully.

”It sounded like her from the description. I've not yet seen her in person there.”

”Thou knowest her,” Prince Gaston said.

Otto said blandly, ”Yes.”

”Hast scouted.”

”Yes. Nothing has come or gone. He's waiting. For you, for me, for Prospero . . .” Otto shrugged. ”I don't know what for.”

”Naught of Prospero yet. Art certain of the girl's lineage?”

”Yes.”

”How?”

”What I said before-she's in sound mind, and she knows she's his daughter. Looks a little like him, but prettier. Also-she has the same kind of-charge he does. Not the same affinity, but there's something of him in her, in the same way that you are infused with a similarity to your brothers. I'm sure she is his.”

Prince Gaston nodded after a moment, digesting this.

374.

'LfizaBetd <wittey ”thou=”” canst=”” not=”” summon=”” her,”=”” he=”” said.=”” ”i=”” tried.=”” neyphile=”” has=”” her=”” bound.=”” i=”” can't.”=”” gaston=”” nodded=”” again=”” and=”” turned=”” to=”” his=”” second,=”” caplain=”” jolly.=”” ”at=”” ease=”” whilst=”” i=”” review=”” the=”” baron's=”” scouting=””></wittey>< p=””>

We'll move again in two hours. Maintain readiness.” Jolly saluted and left them to pa.s.s the order on.

The Prince Marshal had his own scouts already on the scene, and he compared their reports with Ottaviano's. They had brought most of the news to him already; his siege and attack plans were made. Now he a.s.signed Otto's men positions subordinate to his own force. They would bear the brunt of any attack from the castle, but not the responsibility for anything done. Cannon fodder. Otto estimated casualties and felt an inner lurch. Lunete's words rang again in his memory, demanding he return her Lys men before there were more deaths.

”Sir,” Otto said, looking at the map, ”do you seriously think you can break Chasoulis?”

Prince Gaston looked at him. ” Tis not beyond possible.”

”There's a big gap between the possible and the probable. We've had mild weather. One good blizzard and-”

”Timing's all,” the Marshal said. ”Chasoulis is not unbreakable. Hath great advantages; Golias is well-entrenched. However, I've no doubt that we'll succeed.”

Otto noted the we and appreciated it. So he was not utterly in disgrace.

”At present,” said Prince Gaston, ”I concern me for the girl. An she be injured or abused, when cometh time to restore her to her father, 'twill give him more reason than ever for retaliation.”

”She was well and unharmed-” Otto said, and stopped.

”When thou didst leave her,” Prince Gaston said.

Lady Miranda, thought Otto. His mouth was dry. ”She's too valuable to kill.” You'll regret this all your days. How would you feel if someone did this to your wife?

Sorcerer and a (jentteman 375.

Eighteen days later Otto's estimated casualty total was beginning to look low. Golias parleyed with Prince Gaston, who left Otto behind when he went, and the Fireduke told him that either he could have his head and turn the girl over or he could lose his head and turn the girl over. An immediate volley of arrows from the castle's crenelated wails followed Golias's re-entry, killing six Ascolet and Lys men.

Prince Gaston was methodically sapping. The frozen ground slowed the work, but he had chosen his points well, having plans of the fortress in his hands, and the tunnels progressed steadily toward a state in which the eastern wall could be brought down.

Golias made forays to disrupt the sappers, and Ot-taviano's men met those attacks and repelled them with difficulty.

Otto felt like a lackey, which he supposed was the point. His task was to undo Neyphile's sorcerous bindings and protections on the fortress, on which front he had made no considerable progress, uncontracted sorcery for which his guerdon would be his head and a subservient role in Landuc for the rest of his days. It made his belly burn; he watched his men fall and die, watched the pyre-smoke rise, and he swore he would not let this happen again. He had moved too soon; he had been overconfident.

He didn't write to Lunete. He picked up the pen and put it away nightly.

After his evening meal and meeting with Prince Gaston on the eighteenth day of the siege, he left his tent and, in the white light of an exceptionally bright half-moon, ascended a small knoll near the fortress to study Neyphile's Bounds again. The air was static and pure, like thin black ice. His breath froze in his moustache and beard, on the furred hood of his cloak, and stung his nostrils dry.

The Bounds were perceptible as a thickening in the substance of the walls. He s.h.i.+fted his attention to them and began tracing them for the dozenth time, looking for the closure. Neyphile had gotten better at Bounds. She had a knack for work like that, for Bounding and Opening. What 376.

he had learned from her had been more superficial in nature.

A breeze clattered the brittle leaves behind him, then dwindled. Cold seeped through his cloak and faded, raising his hackles.

Otto took his mind from the Bounds and looked around him. There was no movement in the air now. Nothing happening. All still and silent. Sentries pa.s.sed to and fro. A ruddy light glowed dimly around the corner of the castle where the sapworks was.

Wind. Prospero, he thought. Prospero was active in the neighborhood. That was no common wind.

A shadow moved just at the corner of his eye, near the wood's edge. Otto spun and stared full at it, but there was nothing there, no telltale s.h.i.+mmer of a sorcerer's invisibility spell. Otto stood stock-still, sharpening his ears for any other sound of movement the winds might let slip.