‘There’ve been no incidents overnight.’ Arinndier’s voice scattered the memory, though it left a pleasant warmth in its wake. Whatever the future, there was little wrong with the present, and the past had been good.
‘Good,’ he said, speaking his thought to serve as a reply to Arinndier. ‘Just remind everyone to be espe-cially vigilant today. The faster we move, the more careful we must be.’
It proved to be a needless injunction, however. Lo-man sent the Goraidin and the Helyadin ahead of the column in force, not with any pretensions of making a surreptitious assault on the fortress, but to secure the rocky flanks of the valley from ambush. They encoun-tered nothing, however, and within hours signalled back the message that Narsindalvak itself seemed to be deserted.
‘Tell them not to go any nearer,’ Ryath said urgently. ‘We can’t protect them from here if they’re attacked by Oklar.’
Loman nodded, then ordered the leading companies of infantry forward at the double, with himself and some of the Cadwanwr riding vanguard with the cavalry.
Thus, well before the day was through, the first contingents of the army approached Narsindalvak. Loman stared up at the great Fyordyn watch tower. Its broad, sprawling roots seemed, like Anderras Darion, to grow straight from the rocks before curving gradually into the body of the tower itself and soaring high above the neighbouring mountains. At the top, the walls flared out again to form the base of the high-domed Watch Hall. All around the tower, at every level, rings of windows stared out blankly, ominously, over the mountains. It was a dizzying spectacle and Loman found himself leaning backwards in his saddle as he looked at it.
Fyndal, one of the Helyadin, emerged from behind a tumbled mass of rocks.
‘It looks empty,’ he said. ‘We’ve seen no movement of any kind since we arrived.’
Loman turned to Ryath.
The Cadwanwr sniffed, then half-closed his eyes as he looked up at the tower. ‘I can feel no presence,’ he said. ‘Oklar isn’t here.’
Loman looked at him intently. ‘He’s not here,’ the Cadwanwr confirmed positively.
Loman grimaced. If Oklar was gone, then he could even now be leading the Mathidrin against the Muster. Could Oslang fend off the Uhriel on his own? Could Urthryn deploy his cavalry effectively in the unknown and mountainous countryside? Unanswerable and urgent questions, yet he could not gallop off in search of the answers until he had answered the other question-how many men remained in this seemingly empty fortress? He gazed up at it again; it could contain thousands, ready to surge out and cut his passing army in two, or fall on their rear as they marched to the relief of the Muster.
‘We’ll have to purge this place before we can move on, Lord,’ he said to Eldric. ‘And as quickly as we can.’
Eldric nodded and took charge. ‘That’s the main entrance,’ he said, pointing to a wide ramp that swept up to a large double door. ‘But it can only be opened from the inside. Seal the ramp with a shield line and archers, with pikes at the rear, then we’ll send the Goraidin in through those two smaller doors at the side. We have the keys to those and they’re the only other entrances.’
‘I’ll go with them,’ Atelon said, his eyes widening excitedly, then, more seriously, ‘There might be traps laid there that your men can’t see.’
Eldric looked at Ryath who, albeit rather disapprov-ingly, nodded.
Eldric conceded suspiciously. ‘This is no game, Cadwanwr,’ he said sternly. ‘Those are hard, tough fighters, who’ll have to put themselves at risk to protect you. You can go if you’re needed, but do exactly as you’re told. And be alert.’
Loman watched the exchange in silence. He was well content to leave the whole operation to the Fyordyn; it was their fortress and they knew its layout.
Soon the archers were crouching behind their shields in anticipation of the double doors crashing open and some wild enemy charging out in force.
The Goraidin flitted to the side doors.
There was a sudden silence and then, at their own signal, the Goraidin threw open the two doors and charged inside.
Loman watched as they disappeared from view; he could see them moving left and right alternately as they passed through the doors, shields raised defensively. He saw Atelon stumble and an unkind hand drag him brutally upright again.
Some shouting could be heard inside, then there was another silence. Loman became aware for the first time of the sound of the wind moaning about the great tower. His horse shifted a little, its feet clattering on the rocky ground.
Then, slowly, the double doors began to swing open. The archers prepared to fire and a ripple went through the waiting pikes, but a solitary figure appeared in the widening gap. It was one of the Goraidin. He raised his shield in a beckoning gesture and shouted something. Only the word ‘… empty… ’ reached Loman.
The archers however, cheered and began moving forward.
Loman gazed around in admiration as he rode with the others into the huge ante-chamber that was served by the doors. Great ribbed walls arched high above him, wrapped by several tiers of balconies, and the space seemed to reduce the entering army to echoing insignificance.
A raucous cry above made Loman start suddenly, but it was only the Goraidin working their way methodi-cally through the balconies and their adjoining corridors.
When the rest of the army arrived, the lower part of the tower had been searched and found to be empty, and the Goraidin, accompanied now by the Helyadin, were moving rapidly up through the many floors of the great building.
Finally they reached the Watch Hall itself and found it, too, deserted. Their relief at finding this, however, was marred by what they found there.
In the barracks and offices occupying the lower floors of the tower, the only sign of the previous occupants was the squalor and filth they had left. But in the Watch Hall they had made a determined effort to destroy everything that could be destroyed.
Many of the smaller seeing stones had been smashed, together with their ornate supporting frames, and the larger ones had been cracked and damaged.
Eldric walked around the Hall, his face ablaze with rage.
‘We’re blind,’ he said bitterly. ‘We haven’t the craftsmen to repair these things. And we’ll have to tie up men and resources in look-out chains now.’
Loman looked at him anxiously, then at the other Fyordyn, wandering aimlessly around the Hall. The wanton destruction seemed to be disturbing them all profoundly.
Abruptly, Eldric bent down, picked up a heavy fragment of a seeing stone, and hurled it violently at a temporarily rigged globe nearby. ‘And get those damned things out of here!’ he roared. ‘Every one!’
The globe burst noisily, discharging a small cloud of unpleasant smelling smoke and sending glittering shards tinkling across the floor. For a moment it sparked angrily, then with a splutter it fell silent.
Eldric caught Loman’s eye. He waved an angry arm around the scene, then the rage seemed to leave him abruptly and he slumped a little. ‘I’m sorry, Loman,’ he said. ‘A childish outburst. But this place lies at the heart of our neglected duties. And this destruction is a measure of it even more than the damaged heart of Vakloss. If only we’d seen Dan-Tor’s hand in the abandoning of the Watch. If only we’d opposed those who wanted this place closed and forgotten. If, if, if… ’ He picked up another piece of broken stone but this time he turned it over in his hand tenderly. ‘It’s as if we’d done all this ourselves.’
Loman did not attempt to console him. He knew that he could not truly understand the Fyordyn’s distress. Instead, he ignored it and turned to a large wall bracket which had been badly bent out of shape. Wrapping his powerful hands around it he gave it one slow, twisting heave, and restored it almost exactly to its original shape and position.