The Chaos War ended. The gods departed. The residents of Sanction came to realize that the gods were gone. Magic—as they had known it—was gone. The people who had survived the war now faced death by asphyxiation from the noxious fumes. They fled the city, ran to the beaches to breathe the clean sea air. And so for a time, Sanction returned to where it had begun.
A strange and mysterious wizard named Hogan Bight not only restored Sanction to its former glory but helped the city surpass itself. He did what no other wizard had been able to do: He not only cleansed the air, he diverted the lava away from the city.
Water, cool and pure, flowed from the snowy mountain tops. A person could actually step outside and take a deep breath and not double over coughing and choking.
Older and wiser, Sanction became prosperous, wealthy, and respectable. Under Bight’s protection and encouragement, good and honest merchants moved into the city. Both the Solamnic Knights and the Knights of Neraka approached Bight, each side offering to move into Sanction and provide protection from the other.
Bight trusted neither side, refused to allow either to enter.
Angry, the Knights of Neraka argued that Sanction was part of the land given to them by the Council in return for their service during the Chaos War. The Knights of Solamnia continued to try to negotiate with Bight, who continued to refuse all their offers of aid.
Meanwhile the Dark Knights, now calling themselves Knights of Neraka, were growing in strength, in wealth, and in power—for it was they who collected the tribute due the dragons. They watched Sanction as the cat watches the mouse hole. The Knights of Neraka had long coveted the port that would allow them a base of operations from which they could sail forth and gain a firm hold on all the lands surrounding New Sea. Seeing that the mice were busy biting and clawing each other, the cat pounced.
The Knights of Neraka laid siege to Sanction. They expected the siege to be a long one. As soon as the Dark Knights attacked the city, its fractured elements would unite in its defense. The Knights were patient, however. They could not starve the city into submission; blockade runners continued to bring supplies into Sanction. But the Knights of Neraka could shut down all overland trade routes. Thus the Knights of Neraka effectively strangled the merchants and brought Sanction’s economy to ruin.
Pressured by the demands of the citizens, Hogan Bight had agreed within the last year to permit the Solamnic Knights to send in a force to bolster the city’s flagging defenses. At first, the Knights were welcomed as saviors. The people of Sanction expected the Knights would put an immediate end to the siege. The Solamnics replied that they had to study the situation. After months of watching the Knights study, the people again urged the Solamnics to break the siege. The Knights replied that their numbers were too few. They needed reinforcements.
Nightly the besiegers bombarded the city with boulders and fiery bales of hay flung from catapults. The burning hay bales started blazes, the boulders knocked holes in buildings. People died, property was destroyed. No one could get a good night’s sleep. As the leadership of the Knights of Neraka had calculated, the excitement and fervor of Sanction’s residents, which had burned hot when first defending their city against the foe, cooled as the siege dragged out month after month. They found fault with the Solamnics, called them cowards. The Knights retorted that the citizens were hot-heads who would have them all die for nothing. Hearing reports from their spies that the unity was starting to crack, the Knights of Neraka began to build up their forces for an all-out, major assault. Their leadership waited only for a sign that the cracks had penetrated to the enemy’s heart.
A large valley known as Zhakar Valley lay to the east of Sanction. Early in the siege, the Knights of Neraka had gained control of this valley and all of the passes that led from Sanction into the valley. Hidden in the foothills of the Zhakar Mountains, the valley was being used by the knights as a staging area for their armies.
“The Zhakar Valley is our destination,” Mina told her Knights. But when asked why, what they would do there, she would say nothing other than, “We are called.”
Mina and her forces arrived at noon. The sun was high in a cloudless sky, seeming to stare down upon all below with avid expectation, an expectation that sucked up the wind, left the air still and hot.
Mina brought her small command to a halt at the entrance to the valley. Directly opposite them, across the valley, was a pass known as Beckard’s Cut. Through the cut, the Knights could see the besieged city, see a small portion of the wall that surrounded Sanction. Between the Knights and Sanction lay their own army.
Another city had sprung up in the valley, a city of tents and campfires, wagons and draft animals, soldiers and camp followers.
Mina and her Knights had arrived at a propitious time, seemingly. The camp of the Knights of Neraka rang with cheers. Trumpets blared, officers bellowed, companies formed on the road.
Already the lead forces were marching through the cut, heading toward Sanction. Others were quickly following.
“Good,” said Mina. “We are in time.”
She galloped her horse down the steep road, her Knights followed after. They heard in the trumpets the melody of the song they had heard in their sleep. Hearts pounded, pulses quickened, yet they had no idea why.
“Find out what is going on,” Mina instructed Galdar.
The minotaur nabbed the first officer he could locate, questioned the man. Returning to Mina, the minotaur grinned and rubbed his hands.
“The cursed Solamnics have left the city!” he reported. “The wizard who runs Sanction has thrown the Solamnic Knights out on their ears. Kicked them in the ass. Sent them packing. If you look”—Galdar turned, pointed through Beckard’ s Cut—“you can see their ships, those little black dots on the horizon.”
The Knights under Mina’s command began to cheer. Mina looked at the distant ships, but she did not smile. Foxfire stirred restlessly, shook his mane and pawed the ground.
“You brought us here in good time, Mina,” Galdar continued with enthusiasm. “They are preparing to launch the final assault. This day, we’ll drink Sanction’s blood. This night, we’ll drink Sanction ale!”
The men laughed. Mina said nothing, her expression indicated neither elation nor joy. Her amber eyes roved the army camp, seeking something and not finding what she wanted, apparently, for a small frown line appeared between her brows. Her lips pursed in displeasure. She continued her search and finally, her expression cleared. She nodded to herself and patted Foxfire’s neck, calming him.
“Galdar, do you see that company of archers over there?”
Galdar looked, found them, indicated that he did.
“They do not wear the livery of the Knights of Neraka.”
“They are a mercenary company,” Galdar explained. “In our pay, but they fight under their own officers.”
“Excellent. Bring their commander to me.”
“But, Mina, why—”
“Do as I have ordered, Galdar,” said Mina.
Her Knights, gathered behind her, exchanged startled glances, shrugging, wondering. Galdar was about to argue. He was about to urge Mina to let him join in the final drive toward victory instead of sending him off on some fool’s errand. A jarring, tingling sensation numbed his right arm, felt as if he’d struck his “funny bone.” For one terrifying moment, he could not move his fingers. Nerves tingled and jangled. The feeling went away in a moment, leaving him shaken. Probably nothing more than a pinched nerve, but the tingling reminded him of what he owed her. Galdar swallowed his arguments and departed on his assignment.
He returned with the archer company’s commander, an older human, in his forties, with the inordinately strong arms of a bowman. The mercenary officer’s expression was sullen, hostile.