But the answer was obvious. The fliers were coming from Caer Luciare, heading toward Rugassa.
"Forcibles," Daylan Hammer whispered.
The emir looked Daylan in the eye. "We must attack before the enemy can put them to use."
Daylan clasped him on the shoulder. "We shall."
15
Greed is how a man motivates himself from inside. It is our lust that drives us to work long hours, to train hard for battle, to succeed. But it is fear that motivates man from the outside. It is through terror and intimidation that a lord forces his servants to conform to his desires. Do not be deceived. The humans sometimes try to motivate through other means, but they almost always fail.
It was well past midnight when Rhianna reached the horse-sisters with her treasure of forcibles. The sisters had broken camp and set off to the east, astride their blood mounts, riding swiftly.
It had been a generation since such a cavalry rode. Though they were but forty women with lances, bows, and blades, they were all Runelords, for each warrior had an endowment of brawn, one of grace, one of metabolism, and one of stamina. And each rode upon a warhorse that was both well trained and endowed. In but a few short hours, they had traveled nearly a hundred miles in the night.
The sight of it made Rhianna giddy with hope. It was a small contingent in number, but great in power, and it brought to mind the glory of ages past.
Aside from the horses, there was little in the way of supplies. A wagon carried some food; another carriage of sorts followed bearing the wyrmling girl Kirissa.
Rhianna called out a greeting from the sky as she neared the troops, then swooped and landed in a flurry of wings.
She dropped the cask of forcibles onto the ground, produced a key still smeared with wyrmling gore, and pulled the chest open to reveal its contents. She was breathing hard.
Sister Daughtry climbed down from her mount, pulled off her war mask, and looked narrowly at the forcibles. "We can t use that many. We have people willing to become Dedicates back at camp, but we don t have the resources to care for them. For every Dedicate, we need at least a dozen people to till the soil, weave cloth, act as guards, and otherwise nurse them."
She was right, Rhianna realized. The horse-sisters were fierce warriors, but they never had been large in number. Beyond that, they were spread out over thousands of square miles. It would take weeks just for them to assemble.
"The time will come when we have to look elsewhere for Dedicates," Rhianna suggested. "You re already traveling through Beldinook. We can take endowments here."
Beldinook was a large country and wealthy. But Beldinook had long been an enemy to the horse-sisters, to Mystarria-and to the rest of its neighbors for that matter.
Old King Lowicker of Beldinook had once belittled the Earth King, Gaborn Val Orden, demanding a display of his powers.
Gaborn had proved his powers by summoning an earthquake, one which startled Lowicker s horse, causing him to fall. Lowicker died from the injury, and his daughter Rialla had nursed her hatred for House Orden. Because of her frequent tantrums, people had called her "the Brat." She died only a week into her short reign, and a younger sister, Allonia, took the throne in her place. But Allonia s foul temper exceeded Rialla s. So when the kingdom fell to her, the title "the Brat" came with it.
Allonia was her father s daughter in every way. Once the Earth King had passed away, she struck quickly and in concert with Gaborn s enemies. She managed to carve out a fine chunk of Mystarria in that manner.
Rhianna suspected that Sister Daughtry would be pleased at the idea of taking Beldinook. But Daughtry only frowned. "You would have me become another Raj Ahten, strengthen myself by taking other kingdoms?"
"No," Rhianna said. But the more she thought of it, the more she realized that they would be forced to deal with Beldinook. "Beldinook has long been a torment to all of its neighbors. It boasts the finest steel and the largest cavalry in the world. And with the fall of Mystarria, it also boasts the strongest castles. You will need those castles to protect your Dedicates. That is the one great weakness of the horse-sisters: you love the open plains and your pavilions, but you have few strongholds stalwart enough to house Dedicates.
"More importantly, the Brat of Beldinook will live up to her name. She has always been eager for conquest. If she gets her hands on some blood metal, you know that she would not spare you. It is only by overwhelming this enemy that we can hope to retain power.
"So we must strike first. Your horse-sisters could drain endowments from the strongest lords in her realm, turning their strengths into your strength. Her serfs will take care of your Dedicates. Her steel must become your steel. Her fortifications must become yours.
"Taking them does not make you into another Raj Ahten. He took endowments to gratify his own lusts. We will take them to save the world."
"And what kind of world will it be?" Sister Daughtry asked. "It was perilous enough when forcibles were rare. What will become of it if blood metal proves so common that any man with a pair of dogs can make himself into a Runelord?"
"I can t say," Rhianna replied. "But you and I know what kind of world it will become if the Brat and her allies take control.
"And the danger is real. I ve seen a mountain of blood metal near Caer Luciare. Who knows how many more there might be? Who knows what new veins of ore might lie exposed within Beldinook s borders-or those of her allies in Internook? Right now, the brutish warlords of Internook may be digging up their own hills of blood metal and dreaming of conquest. Or perhaps in Indhopal some band of cutthroats has already seized a nation and is eyeing a million potential Dedicates in its own realm.
"My heart tells me to move slowly, to be generous and optimistic, to take only as many endowments as we need. But who knows how many endowments we need? The safest course-the only wise and sane course-is to seize the world by the throat while we can."
Sister Daughtry looked dully at the forcibles. Reluctantly, she conceded. "We go to fight an army of wyrmlings. My warriors are strong, but they will need to be stronger still. I see no flaw in your argument. I only wish that such arguments did not need to be made. I fear that children in Beldinook will see what we do, and think us evil. Beldinook is a giant of a nation, a sleeping giant. We wake it at our own peril."
The journey to Castle Lowicker did not take long. Two hours past dawn, the horse-sisters had crossed the leagues, and all too soon the riders found themselves outside a great fortress, sitting on their tired mounts, peering up at the massive walls.
As fortresses go, there was none larger in a thousand miles-at least nothing of human make. Castle Lowicker had been growing for two thousand years, and now it sprawled atop a great long hill in tiers. The imposing outer walls stood a hundred and twenty feet high and were topped with crenellations. At the foot of the outer wall stood a lake.
This was no ordinary castle. It had been erected to withstand the onslaught of powerful Runelords, and thus the outer walls were well plastered, so that even the most powerful lord could not get a fingerhold between the stones. The lake provided safety from siege towers.
Atop the walls, ballista towers had been erected every eighty feet, and the ballista bows were made of fine Sylvarresta steel. The ballistae were made in the style of Toom: a cranking winch would let a man tighten them, and then the whole ballista was mounted upon a seat that pivoted so that the marksman could quickly adjust his aim to the right or left, while the bow itself was perfectly weighted and could be raised and lowered. Thus a well-trained marksman could swivel quickly to take aim on any attacker and send a bolt flying.