CHAPTER 28
Behind the walls of Ildakar, Nicci worked day and night to rally the city’s defenders, to arm them and train them for the surprise strike, now that the duma had set their plans in motion. Since the insidious attack from his twin sorceresses, the city had received no word from General Utros, no ultimatums, no requests. Nicci was sure the ancient general was building some strategy of his own, but she hoped Ildakar would strike first, taking him unawares.
Even while she slept, Nicci gathered information through Mrra, roaming in her dreams with the spell-bonded sand panther. She glided through the shadows and studied the enemy troops. When she felt bold enough, the big cat even prowled among the troops, nothing more than a tawny blur. Mrra didn’t understand the human details of what she saw, but through her eyes Nicci could assess their camp, their numbers, supplies, and weapons, and she could see where their weaknesses were.
Using feline senses, she could tell that these ancient warriors were not entirely human. They didn’t smell right, and their warm blood and flesh was cooler than a normal person’s.
The following morning, Nicci delivered a report to the duma of what she and Mrra had seen. Nathan wasn’t there, claiming that he wanted to investigate another idea.
In the meeting, Lady Olgya said, “My guild has crafted enough special silk to make protective cloaks for twenty gifted nobles, who will lead the charge in a few nights. Our worms are spinning themselves into exhaustion. The fleshmancers adapted and strengthened them, but they cannot go faster.”
Nicci knew the preparations couldn’t simply continue forever. “General Utros is sure to move soon, and we have to strike first, or we will lose our element of surprise.”
“Preparations continue throughout the city, and this will be a significant offensive,” said Damon. “Our fighters are gathering, training. Arms are being distributed. It will take at least three more days before we can hope to be ready to move.”
“I’ve ordered guards posted at every gate, even the low shepherds’ doors,” Quentin said. “And they’ve been reinforced with spells. The walls are secure.”
Oron frowned. “I’m more concerned about our former slaves who were willing to murder innocent nobles and burn down the city. Even with Rendell now elected to the duma, are all the slaves as committed as we are? What is to stop one of those traitors from slipping outside and selling information to the enemy?”
Upset, Rendell rose from his stone bench. “We are sworn to protect Ildakar as much as you are. The slaves fought for justice, but they can see a better future here. I think I’ve gotten through to them. Once we rebuild the city, it will be partly theirs. Why would they betray us now?”
Nicci narrowed her blue eyes. “I understand your passion, Rendell, but I don’t believe everyone is so altruistic. We don’t dare let a whisper get out to General Utros.”
“Our greatest weapon is surprise, and we must not give it up,” Lani said. “We’ve made our plan, and we need to launch everything in this attack, cause as much damage as possible. We have to convince Utros that we are strong enough to defeat him.”
The duma members responded with confidence and enthusiasm. Nicci hoped they were right.
Inside the fleshmancer’s silent, empty villa, Nathan stepped forward, feeling the weight of dangerous magic in the air.
The two Ixax warriors towered above the rubble. Stone support columns had broken like giant tree trunks, toppling amid fragments of the shattered ceiling and collapsed walls. The weight of the entire building had fallen on top of the motionless behemoths, leaving smears of dust and splinters of stone on their armor, but causing no real damage to the titans. The remaining pair stood ready, as they had done for more than fifteen centuries, trapped and unable to move. But aware.
Approaching the two giant figures alone, Nathan stared at them with awe and a thrill of fear, but even though he knew what horrific damage their unleashed comrade had caused, he allowed himself a small glimmer of hope. The wizard’s high leather boots crunched on the broken stone strewn across the cracked tiles.
Somewhere, buried under the fresh dust and debris was a large red stain, now dried—all that remained of Andre, splattered blood, pummeled flesh, and splintered bone, after the lone awakened Ixax had released his fury. No one had bothered to clean the mess, since all of the fleshmancer’s servants and apprentices had abandoned him during the uprising.
With the tip of his boot, Nathan kicked over a stone, exposing a wiry blood-encrusted hank of hair, next to a curved yellowish fragment, part of the fleshmancer’s skull. “Dear spirits,” he muttered. He couldn’t deny that Andre had gotten what he deserved after tormenting the three Ixax for centuries.…
The single released Ixax warrior had broken through the fleshmancer’s magical defenses. Andre had created the titans to defend Ildakar, but they had never been put to use. Out of boredom, he had spent centuries pestering them, tormenting them. No wonder the released giant had created havoc in Ildakar before Nathan managed to destroy it. The whole situation was regrettable.
Now all of Ildakar was preparing to launch a surprise attack on the ancient army. The council had given the people a goal, a hope for real success, although Nathan thought their hope was based more on enthusiasm than on true military strategy. Maybe General Utros would be fooled, and maybe the Ildakaran defenders would cause some real damage. Or, the military genius might surprise them in turn. After reading so much history, Nathan would not underestimate Utros.
He hoped to increase the city’s chances by finding a weapon unlike any the ancient army had ever seen. Could the Ixax warriors serve that purpose? Could they be controlled?
He stepped over a toppled column and stood before the two armored titans, each fifteen feet tall. They couldn’t speak, but they would listen.
Gathering his courage, remembering how he had faced the one enraged Ixax that had nearly destroyed him, he studied the giants. With his fresh wizard’s robes and his white hair, he did look impressive, like someone in command. The silence was tense and ominous, but Nathan confidently stared at the two mammoth figures.
When he cleared his throat, the sound seemed excessively loud. “Hello!” As soon as the word left his lips, he realized how foolish it sounded. “My name is Nathan Rahl. I’m a wizard, but not from Ildakar. I have traveled here from far-off lands.”
The two Ixax didn’t tremble, didn’t move. The binding spell prevented them. Thick iron helmets encased their heads, leaving only an eye slit. Thick metal armor wrapped their bodies, thickened at the shoulders, while chest plates were studded with rounded bosses, engraved with the sun-and-lightning symbol of Ildakar. Their massive arms were bare, with pebbled skin like concrete studded with gravel. Their hands were covered with huge gauntlets reinforced with iron knobs and sharp spikes.
Each Ixax wore a terrible sword as tall as a man. Their legs were like oak trunks, rippled with sculpted muscles. Their boots could crush boulders. Through the slit in their helmets, round staring eyes the size of pomegranates peered out, crackling with magic. Andre’s corrupt fleshmancy had taken three mere foot soldiers who had volunteered to defend their beloved city and transformed them into … this.
“I’m sorry for what was done to you,” Nathan said. He hoped they could hear him, hoped they would listen. “I know you didn’t expect this when you offered yourselves, but Ildakar truly needs you now.”
The silence continued to hang over them like a cloak. He couldn’t even hear the Ixax warriors breathing. Did they need to breathe?
But he sensed a subtle change. Inside their massive helmets, the blazing yellow gaze shifted slightly, their focus changing from an endless stare. A chill went down Nathan’s back, and he felt certain that their attention had turned to him. “Fleshmancer Andre did this to you, and he’s paid for the torment he inflicted. You might have seen that with your own eyes.”