“Hush, Rapp.” Serene stepped between the men and the griffons. “They won’t harm you. I promise that.”
It took more calming words from the cleric and a few threats from their captain before the men finally gave in. As an added measure, Serene had Rapp move the griffons some distance away and order them to stay there.
“This is strictly reconnaissance,” Bakal reminded the men. “We’ll be back before long.”
Tyros and Serene rode together again, which pleased the wizard. The cleric’s distant attitude had faded as anticipation of finally locating the citadel had taken over.
Serene leaned near him as they approached the storm. “Those clouds look even blacker than before!”
The storm had indeed grown worse. Perhaps that explained why they hadn’t yet seen the flying citadel. Damaged as it was by the attack on Gwynned, it likely suffered in the fierce winds. Cadrio no doubt had ordered it above the low cloud cover.
They flew within sight of the city walls, already fearful of what they might see below. This close, Tyros could hear the sound of sporadic combat, the clash of arms, the cries of men.
“Do we dare fly over the city?” Serene asked him.
Tyros scanned the sky but still saw no sign of citadel, dragons, or even gargoyles. That and the overcast sky gave him some confidence. “If we make it fast. We’ll circle once, maybe twice, then leave.”
“No more than that.” She shivered. “I have a bad feeling about this place.…”
He, too, felt that something out of the ordinary had struck the seaport, and as the griffons raced over the walls, Tyros saw that their fears had been justified.
“What’s happened to Norwych?” Serene called out, horrified.
Tyros couldn’t answer; he was too busy gaping. He thought about what Gwynned had suffered even in victory and knew that somehow Cadrio had learned from that mistake. Norwych had paid dearly for the lesson.
The seaport had been turned to rubble. Walls and buildings for as far as the eye could see had been crushed. It looked as if someone had dropped another city on top of Norwych, so thorough was the destruction. Few structures over two stories remained standing, and most of those had suffered much damage. Fire and smoke rose up from everywhere, most of the flames clearly left unchecked by the inhabitants.
“It’s gone!” the cleric gasped. “Norwych has been utterly destroyed!”
Tyros said nothing, more concerned at the moment with the soldiers he had noticed. Ranks of ebony-armored warriors moved methodically through the ruins, ferreting out all resistance. He saw one local cut down by a pair of the invaders, and although it was too late for the mage to do anything, Tyros still wished he could have burned the soldiers on the spot.
In the distance, the sails of Cadrio’s fleet rose high. There would be no escape through the port. Tyros counted at least eight vessels in the invading fleet but expected there were more nearby.
Somewhere below had to be General Cadrio himself. Tyros wondered what would happen if his band managed to capture or kill the enemy commander. He started watching for banners, guards, anything that would indicate the presence of the man.
They finished a circle around Norwych, seeing devastation everywhere but still no evidence of the citadel’s presence. Tyros looked for Bakal and finally spotted the other griffon in the growing haze. The captain pointed at something within the city.
“Bakal seems almost frantic,” the wary spellcaster informed Serene. “Do you see anything?”
The cleric looked to where the soldier pointed. “All I see is a collapsed building … but from the look of the wreckage, it must have been gigantic!”
“He wants us to fly over it.”
The cleric had their mount turn, Rapp doing the same with the other. The griffons soared nearer to the huge ruin, which, for reasons Tyros could not yet put his finger on, looked familiar.
“There’s something strange about this,” Serene called. “It almost looks as if Cadrio’s soldiers destroyed not only the building but the hill it stood upon, too!”
A hill that looked out of place to Tyros. He leaned forward, trying to picture the building whole. A castle of some sort, he finally decided. The design didn’t match the rounded structures of Norwych, but it did remind him of something else.…
The cleric suddenly gripped him tighter. “Tyros … that’s not part of the city.”
She knew it, too. She knew what they looked down at, what Captain Bakal had been trying to tell them.
The flying citadel, the point of their individual quests, had been destroyed, taking the port city with it.
* * * * *
Stone fluttered through Norwych, doing his part to search for the enemy. He hadn’t located any. The dwellers of this place were either dead or gone into hiding. The gargoyle looked around at the ruins as he flew, thinking of all the wasted roofs and overhangs. Norwych had had many fine places upon which to perch, but no longer.
He wasted his time here, just as he wasted so much of it for Valkyn. How he hated the robed one. Crag enjoyed the chaos and destruction that Valkyn brought forth, but Stone preferred the silent solitude of the wilderness, where he and his kindred could live without the interference of humans, dwarves, and other races. And especially where no wizards could force his kind to obedience with the use of fiery spells that left scorched earth and the twisted gargoyle corpses of those who had defied him.
The sleek gray figure paused atop a leaning roof, adjusting himself as best as he could to compensate for its instability. Blood-red eyes gazed around, finding little of interest. This hunt had been played out; it was time to move on. The humans, though, still sought treasures and the like, interests which the gargoyle only vaguely understood. What use were things that could not be eaten?
He yawned, displaying an impressive array of sharp teeth. Stone knew that he couldn’t delay his return much longer. Crag would use any excuse to diminish his rival in the eyes of Valkyn.
The gargoyle stretched his wings, preparing to fly. However, something at the very edge of his vision caught his attention. Stone looked up, searching the tempestuous heavens.
And then he saw them, the winged creatures, the four figures. Most of all, he saw the tall one clad in the crimson robe, the same color Valkyn had once worn.
“You …” Stone growled.
The gargoyle darted up into the air.
Chapter 8
Deceptions
Cadrio walked through the ruins of Norwych, growing less and less satisfied. Oh, his men were happy enough. Looting always raised morale, but as he partook of the destruction around him, he realized how little this victory could be called his own. Had he been in control of Atriun, the general would have felt different. No, this victory he owed completely to Valkyn … and Cadrio disliked owing anyone.
He had to somehow gain control of the flying citadel, of that he had no doubt. At some point, the wizard had to come down, if only to give new orders.
“Caaadriooo …”
At first he didn’t recognize his own name, since the cry was so drawn out and beastly-sounding. Timinion and Zander, who had been following at a respectful distance, immediately drew their blades and flanked him.
One of the mage’s pet gargoyles perched on a broken wall, the savage beast tipping his head as he stared at the humans. From the three horns and immense size, Cadrio deduced the gargoyle to be Crag. Valkyn seemed to prefer to use Crag instead of Stone, a fact that the general filed away for possible later interest. Unlike Crag, who obeyed Valkyn with eagerness, Stone seemed to resent his servitude, something that perhaps Cadrio could make use.
“Swords down.” He didn’t want the monster to think that Cadrio feared him. “What is it?”
In reply, the gargoyle tossed a scroll toward him. Cadrio casually reached down and picked it up, pretending for the messenger’s sake that he cared little what Valkyn wanted to relay. Inside, however, the lanky warrior seethed. Now what did his so-called ally want?