“But they hadn’t any arms built this-” Tebeo stopped, winced. Now it made sense. There had been more to Numar’s wile than even Bausef had guessed. “It was a diversion, to give them time to build the machines and put them in place.”
“So it would seem.”
For a third time, the walls and floor shivered. More shouts echoed through the castle ward, mingled now with screams of terror and agony.
The duke swung himself out of bed, struggling briefly with another wave of dizziness.
“Tebeo-”
He raised a hand, silencing his wife. “This is no time for me to be resting, Pelgia, no matter what the healer says. My place is on the walls with my men.”
She looked like she might argue, but instead she merely nodded, seeming to sense that she would never convince him otherwise.
Bausef and the soldier started down the corridor toward the nearest of the tower stairways. Tebeo followed, though he walked slowly. The pain in his side was much greater now that he was out of bed and moving. The armsmaster glanced back and slowed, but the duke waved him on.
“I’ll be along, armsmaster. Go up to the ramparts. There’s no sense in both of us going at my pace.”
Bausef nodded once before sprinting on.
By the time Tebeo finally reached the top of the stairway, the castle had been hit twice more, and the cries from his men had begun to sound desperate. Stepping into the warm night air, Tebeo immediately saw why. Numar and his men were bombarding the castle with huge stones that had been covered with pitch and set aflame. Judging from the blackened ruins of the ramparts along the north wall, it seemed that their aim had been remarkably true. Several men lay on the stone walkway, some with their skin and clothes burned, others with mangled limbs.
Bausef strode to where Tebeo stood.
“Report.”
“They’re beyond the range of our archers, my lord. There appear to be only the two machines, though right now those two are more than enough.”
“How many have we lost.”
“Eleven dead, my lord. Fourteen others hurt.”
“Damn!”
“Look to the skies!” came a shouted warning.
Facing northward, Tebeo saw a bright ball of fire arc into the night, trailing a plume of black smoke. He thought at first that it would strike the top of the wall just beyond the next tower, but as the flaming stone reached its zenith and began to curve downward toward the castle, he realized with much relief that it would fall just short. Still, as it approached the wall, he reached out to brace himself against the stone. An instant later the fiery stone hit, sending a fountain of flame over the wall and making the fortress tremble.
Bausef stared grimly at the small fires burning themselves out on the face of the castle. “We were fortunate that time.”
“Is there anything we can do to stop them?”
“Not without aid, my lord. We need Orvinti or Kett or Tounstrel. Anyone. With Rassor guarding Numar’s flanks, we have no chance of reaching those siege machines. It would take so many men to fight our way through that we’d have to compromise the safety of the castle.”
“What about the first minister? Might she be able to help us?”
“What magics does she possess?”
“I don’t know all of them.” A lie. But Tebeo knew that many Qirsi did not willingly reveal their powers to others, and he felt that as a courtesy to Evanthya he shouldn’t tell the master of arms more than was necessary. “But I do know that she has mists and winds.”
“That might be of some use-”
“Look to the skies!” from farther down the wall.
Yet another burning orb leaped into the sky, like some terrible weapon of the goddess of fire, thrown by Eilidh herself. Watching its path, anxiously, the duke quickly realized that this one would not fall short.
Bausef seemed to sense this as well. Before Tebeo could say anything, he shouted to his men, “Off the north wall!” Without even waiting to see if they followed his command, the armsmaster began to usher the duke back toward the tower stairway. Tebeo followed, though he kept one eye on that arcing flame, marking its progress toward his castle.
Once safely inside the tower entrance, both men turned to watch. “Hold on,” Bausef said, eyeing the bright flame and bracing himself against the stone. “This one’s going to do some damage.”
Indeed. It landed directly on top of the wall, shattering the merlons where it hit, shaking the castle to its foundations, and sending fiery fragments of stone in every direction. Several of the men who had fled only as far as the end of the battlement were struck by pieces. One man’s surcoat was aflame. The stone itself, largely intact, remained in its own crater on the wall, still burning and effectively cutting one end of the battlement off from the other. Tebeo heard cheering in the distance. Numar’s men.
“Demons and fire,” Bausef muttered.
“This can’t continue. Summon the first minister.”
The master of arms nodded, still staring at the damage. “Yes, my lord. Right away.”
Within just a few moments, Evanthya stood before him, her white hair hanging loose to her shoulders and dancing in the wind.
“The master of arms has explained to you?” Tebeo asked.
“Yes, my lord. But as I’ve told him, I’m not certain that I can be of much use to you.”
“Why is that?”
“Pronjed, my lord. Numar’s archminister. He has mists and winds as well, and will be able to counter anything I do. If I raise a mist to conceal our men, he’ll conjure a wind to sweep it away. And if I call forth a wind to aid our archers or hinder theirs, he’ll do just the opposite.”
“And none of your other powers can help us?”
“I’m afraid not, my lord. Mine are not the magics of a warrior.”
Tebeo actually smiled. It seemed they had this in common.
“I fear, my lord, that the first minister might actually do more harm than good.”
“What do you mean?”
“If she raises a mist, and the archminister can indeed defeat it, then we’ve done nothing except draw Numar’s attention to whatever it is we decide to do.”
“Look to the skies!”
Another flaming boulder flew up from the north, followed almost instantly by a second. Their conversation stopped and all three of them watched the fires carve their way through the darkness and down toward the castle. Dantrielle’s soldiers scrambled to get out of their path, shouting warnings to one another, struggling to carry the wounded from the last impact out of harm’s way.
The first of the stones struck the top of the wall, much as the last one had, while the second fell just short, hitting the face of the wall just below the battlements. The entire fortress bucked and shuddered as if it were alive. Flames and shards of stone careened everywhere, clattering off the tower walls and making Evanthya and Tebeo flinch.
Again, the duke heard shouts and taunts from Numar’s soldiers.
“We need a plan. Quickly, armsmaster. They’re destroying the castle, and it won’t be long before one of those missiles finds flesh rather than mere stone.”
“As I said, my lord, fighting our way through to the hurling arms is out of the question. But it may be that a small complement of archers can go out through another of the sally ports and get close enough to strike at them.”
“Yes, good.”
Bausef seemed to hesitate. “I said it may be possible, my lord. I’m not certain that I think it a good idea. We’ll be placing these men in great danger, and there’s no guarantee that they’ll be able to disable the hurling arms.”
“Some of them could light their arrows,” Evanthya said. “While some try for the soldiers operating the machines, others can try to burn the arms themselves.”
“That might work.” Still the master of arms did not appear convinced. “I know that it’s difficult to watch them harm Castle Dantrielle, my lord. But over the course of its history, this fortress has withstood assaults far worse than this. We may be better off just weathering their attacks. This siege won’t be won or lost tonight, and it may be that help is on the way.”