“Perhaps,” Polgara said, “but I’ve seen this happen too many times before. It’s always the same. There always has to be a fire. I don’t believe I care to watch any more of this.” She turned her back on the burning city and walked slowly away from the riverbank.
The night was interminable. Toward dawn, as the stars began to fade from the paling sky, the Princess Ce’Nedra, drawn with fatigue, stood atop a grassy bank near the cove, watching with a kind of sick fascination as the city of Thull Mardu died. Entire districts seemed to be in flames, and great fountains of orange sparks belched toward the sky as roofs caved in and buildings collapsed. What had seemed so stirring, so glorious in her anticipation had turned out to be something quite different in reality, and she was sick at what she had done. She still, nonetheless, brought her fingertips up to touch the amulet at her throat. She had to know what was happening. No matter how horrible the events were in the city, not knowing what was happening was even worse.
“Sort of a nice little fight,” she heard King Anheg say. The King of Cherek seemed to be someplace very high—atop the walls of the city perhaps.
“Pretty routine,” Barak, Earl of Trellheim, replied. “The Murgo garrison fought pretty well, but the Thulls kept falling all over themselves trying to surrender.”
“What did you do with all of them?” King Cho-Hag asked.
“We herded them into the central square,” Barak answered. “They’ve been amusing themselves by killing the Grolims we flushed out of the temple.”
Anheg suddenly chuckled, an evil sort of sound. “How’s Grodeg?” he asked.
“It looks like he’s going to live,” Barak said.
“That’s a shame. When I saw that axe sticking out of his back, I thought somebody’s solved one of my problems for me.”
“It was too low,” Barak said rather mournfully. “It broke his spine, but it didn’t hit anything else significant. He won’t be walking any more, but he’s still breathing.”
“You can’t depend on a Murgo to do anything right,” Anheg said in disgust.
“They did thin out the Bear-cult pretty thoroughly,” Barak noted cheerfully. “I don’t think there are more than two dozen of them left. They fought pretty well, though.”
“That’s what they were here for. How long do you think it will be before daylight?”
“Half an hour, maybe.”
“Where’s Rhodar?”
“He and Fulrach are sacking the warehouses,” King Cho-Hag replied. “The Murgos had some supply dumps here. Fulrach wants to confiscate them.”
“He would,” Anheg said. “Maybe we’d better send somebody for them. It’s getting on toward the time when we’ll want to think about pulling out of here. As soon as it gets light, all this smoke’s going to announce what we’ve done to anyone within twenty leagues. It’s about time to start the fleet moving, and it’s a long march back to the forts on top of the escarpment.”
“How long will it take you to get to the Sea of the East?” Cho-Hag asked.
“A couple of days,” Anheg told him. “You can move a ship pretty fast when you’ve got the current behind you. It will take your army a week at least to get back to the forts, won’t it?”
“Probably,” Cho-Hag said. “The infantry can’t move all that fast. There’s Brendig! I’ll send him to fetch Rhodar.” He shouted down to the Sendar. “Colonel Brendig, see if you can find Rhodar. Ask him to join us.”
“What’s that?” Barak asked suddenly.
“What’s what?” Anheg demanded.
“I thought I saw something out there—way to the south—where you can just start to make out that hilltop.”
“I don’t see anything.”
“It was just a flicker—something moving.”
“Probably a Murgo scout creeping in for a look.” Anheg laughed shortly. “I don’t imagine we’ll be able to keep what happened here a secret for very long.”
“There it is again,” Barak said.
“I saw it that time, too,” King Cho-Hag agreed.
There was a long silence as the sky imperceptibly grew lighter. Ce’Nedra held her breath.
“Belar!” Anheg swore in a stunned voice. “They stretch for miles!”
“Lelldorin!” Barak shouted down from the wall. “Brendig’s gone to get Rhodar. Go find them and tell them to get up here at once. The plain to the south is covered with Murgos.”
16
“Lady Polgara!” Ce’Nedra cried, jerking back the flap of the tent. “Lady Polgara!”
“What is it, Ce’Nedra?” Polgara’s voice came from the darkness inside the tent.
“Barak and Anheg are up on the walls of the city,” the princess said in a frightened voice. “They just saw a Murgo army coming up from the south.”
Polgara came quickly out into the firelight, holding the sleepy Errand by the hand. “Where’s Beldin?” she demanded.
“I haven’t seen him since early last night.”
Polgara raised her face and closed her eyes. A moment or so later there was a rushing sound of wings, and the large hawk settled to the sand not far from their flickering fire.
Beldin was swearing sulfurously even as he shimmered and blurred back into his natural shape.
“How did they slip past you, Uncle?” Polgara asked him.
“There are Grolims with them,” he growled, still sizzling the air around him with oaths. “The Grolims could feel me watching, so the troops moved only at night, and the Grolims shielded them.”
“Where did they hide in the daytime?”
“In the Thullish villages, apparently. There are dozens of communities out there. It never occurred to me to pay all that much attention to them.” He began to swear again, berating himself savagely for having missed the movement of the Murgo army.
“There’s no point in swearing about it, Uncle,” Polgara told him coolly. “It’s done, now.”
“Unfortunately there’s a bit more, Pol,” the sorcerer told her. “There’s another army at least as big coming in from the north—Malloreans, Nadraks, and Thulls. We’re caught right between them.”
“How long have we got before they reach us?” Polgara asked. Beldin shrugged. “Not long. The Murgos have some rough ground to cross—probably about an hour. The Malloreans will be here in quite a bit less.”
Polgara began to curse fervently under her breath. “Go to Rhodar,” she told the hunchback. “Tell him that we have to release Anheg’s fleet immediately—before the Angaraks can bring up catapults and destroy the ships where they’re anchored.”
The deformed man nodded and stooped slightly, curving his arms out like wings even as he began to waver and change.
“Olban,” Polgara called to the young Rivan, “go find Sir Mandorallen and Lord Hettar. Send them to me at once. Hurry.”
Olban gave her one startled look, then ran for his horse.
Durnik the smith came sliding down the grassy bank onto their little beach. His face was grave. “You and the ladies must leave at once, Mistress Pol,” he told her. “There’s going to be fighting here, and the middle of a battle’s no place for any of you.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Durnik,” she replied with a trace of irritation. “I started all this, and I’m going to see it through.”
Ariana had gone back into the tent as soon as the situation became clear to her. She now emerged again, carrying the stout canvas bag in which she kept her medical supplies. “Have I thy permission to leave, Lady Polgara?” she asked with a certain cool professionalism. “In battle men are injured, and I must go make preparations for their care. This spot is somewhat too remote and confined to receive the wounded.”
Polgara gave her a quick look. “All right,” she agreed. “Just be careful not to get too close to the fighting.”
Taiba pulled on her cloak. “I’ll go with you,” she told Ariana. “I don’t know that much about it, but you can teach me as we go along.”
“Go help them get set up, Durnik,” Polgara told the smith. “Then come back here.”