Goпmgar backed away from the mason's mighty hands and rubbed his chin. He had endured the humiliation silently, but now that Bavragor had released him, he felt brave enough to vent his fury in a threat. "You'll regret this, Hammerfist. Just wait until Gandogar is high king: The mountain won't be the only one to exact revenge!"
"That's right, run to Gandogar! You're a coward as well as a weakling."
"Let's call it quits now," Tungdil said sharply. "You've both said more than enough." In fact, Goпmgar's threat about Gandogar being high king was proof that he intended the expedition to fail. "I don't want to hear another insult from either of you. In any case, it's time to go."
He strode back to the wagon, the other four following in silence. The strained atmosphere was a worrying portent for the company's future.
What happens when I can't stop them from quarreling? His spirits sank lower when he remembered that Bavragor and Goпmgar weren't the only ones at loggerheads: Boпndil and Bavragor couldn't stand each other either. Only the calm and practical Boлndal hadn't made any enemies. Who knows how long that will last? It's not easy being a leader, he thought gloomily. Vraccas give me strength.
Boпndil, ever hopeful of finding someone or something to fight, wandered over to the mouth of the tunnel. He opened the door and peered inside. "It goes straight down. The wagon will need a bit of a push; then the slope will take care of the rest."
The next leg of the journey awaited them. They hauled their vehicle to the top of the ramp and jumped aboard, save for Boлndal, who waited a moment longer to give them a final shove. Soon they were hurtling westward, squeaking and rattling through the tunnel to the kingdom of Borengar's folk.
Enchanted Realm of Lios Nudin, Girdlegard, Late Autumn, 6234th Solar Cycle The scouts returned on horseback with news that Porista was going about its usual business, untroubled by the twin-flanked advance of forty thousand soldiers under the command of Girdlegard's finest human warriors.
Gentle sunshine bathed the lush green countryside, bringing out the rich autumn hues of the trees. Everywhere the foliage was putting on a last show of splendor before the winter frosts.
All the same, the air was decidedly chilly, so Tilogorn and Lothaire had erected an assembly tent to guard against the winds. They stood outside and listened to the scouts' report.
The first envoy sent to Porista to negotiate on their behalf had returned with a list of preposterous demands, not to mention tidings of the magi's deaths. Many orbits had passed since then, but the brief exchange had taught them that Nфd'onn was the real enemy and would have to be destroyed.
Clasping flasks of hot tea, the kings of Idoslane and Urgon studied the sketched map of fortifications and marveled at Porista's meager defenses. A single wall protected the city from attack.
Tilogorn was wearing plain but solid armor. He was heartened to see Porista's vulnerability: There were villages in his kingdom that were better defended than the capital of Nфd'onn's realm. "Victory will be swift, provided the magus doesn't jinx us. We made the right decision in not waiting for reinforcements."
"Between us we'll bring the villain to his knees. He can't be in two places at once: One of the gates will fall and Porista will be ours," Lothaire said confidently, checking the buckles on his lightweight leather mail.
Each was wearing armor in keeping with the style of combat in his kingdom. In Idoslane, Tilogorn was accustomed to fighting heavily armed and powerful orcs, which called for heavy- duty protection against axes and swords, whereas a solid suit would be impractical in Urgon because of the lakes and hills. Agility and speed were of the essence when death was the likely consequence of stumbling on a narrow mountain pass.
The mismatched sovereigns were in command of an army that was similarly diverse. Each of the seven human kingdoms had sent units to Porista, but the other monarchs were content to let Tilogorn and Lothaire direct the motley troops. Another forty thousand soldiers were already on their way, ready for the next stage in the campaign: the assault on Dsфn Balsur.
Queen Umilante had sent her lightly armored and sparely clad warriors to line up with Queen Wey IV's waterguards and Queen Isika's guerrillas, whose favored territory was the forest. Not a soldier among them had ever stormed a city, and so it fell to Lothaire's and Tilogorn's units, who, along with King Nate's cavalry, formed the mainstay of the army, to show them what to do.
It's a good thing we're attacking Porista first. The men could use the experience before they cross blades with the дlfar. Lothaire pointed to the city gates. "Tilogorn, you attack the northern gate; I'll approach from the south. The catapults and ladders are ready and waiting." He held his head high. "I'll go in first. Take up position with your twenty thousand men, but don't advance straightaway. As soon as you see my signal, charge through the other gate and attack the palace from the north."
"Agreed." Tilogorn reached for his helmet. "Then let's rid Girdlegard of Nфd'onn. After that we can focus on routing the дlfar and the orcs. May Palandiell be with us."
"She's with us already, there's no doubt of that." They shook hands, mounted their horses, and rode to join their units three miles from Porista's walls.
Lothaire ordered the fanfare to be sounded and the men raised their standards in a billowing sea of cloth. The divisions attacked from the south as agreed, the first wave of soldiers pushing wheeled screens of wood in front of them to shield their advance.
Porista waited until they were within firing distance before waking from its doze. A dark shadow whooshed toward them, arrows and missiles raining on the troops.
The men huddled behind their wooden defenses and all but a handful escaped the storm unscathed. Lothaire's archers returned fire and the advance continued behind the moving screens. The men reached the wall, flipped the panels over, and held them aloft while others banged posts into the soil on which to balance the wooden shields. With the makeshift roofs overhead, there was no risk of injury from bombardment from above. Soon ladders were clattering against the walls. It was then that Nфd'onn gave them a taste of his might.
Tilogorn was watching on horseback while his foot soldiers stole toward the northern gates. There was no opposition worth speaking of: Porista's guardians had been tricked into thinking that the opposite side of the city was the focus of the attack. By the time news of a second invasion reached the troops in the south, Tilogorn and his men would be through the northern gates and advancing on the palace.
We'll soon decide the matter in our favor, he told himself firmly. There was something unsettling about fighting magic with manpower, but he couldn't think of any other way.
Tilogorn had opted to ride at the head of the five-thousand-strong cavalry and he planned to bear down on the palace and take the magus by storm. In a battle against the wizard's magic, he needed every advantage of speed and shock to survive.
Two lone riders looped toward him, raising their flags as a signal for the king and his units to advance.
"Palandiell protect us." Tilogorn checked each of his weapons, making sure his sword and dagger were at hand. On his orders, the bugles were sounded, heralding the attack. The first eight thousand men swarmed toward the gates like ants. Lothaire had used the same tactic on the other side of the city, only two miles farther south.
The attacking force met with almost no resistance. A few arrows were loosed from the parapets but the damage was minimal.