The Baron woke early and rose before the
first light of dawn. He had had no difficulty sleeping but since Balliwick had
gone he had been waking early, anxious for his advisor to return. All that he
could think of now was the march into the city of Huatalcan, the northernmost
of the cities of Eddorre. This was the least of the six great cities that the Tlaxacans
had wrested from the Empire: In
Visnerorian it had been known as Veccianus, and then there were Illimion, Mariassus,
Arianis, Phryginus and Claria.
These names were imprinted on von
Eisen’s mind. Among the items that he kept in a trunk in his train was a book
of very old engravings of the six cities, showing their wide avenues, elegant
domed mansions and public spaces. The book had belonged to his great uncle, a
man who believed himself to be the grandmaster of the Crimson Flame order but
who had, at that time, no followers except his grandnephew. He would sit the little boy at the kitchen table
and tell stories of the death of civilisation in the east; he would point to
the structures now desecrated, and tell him that they were his destiny.
But now he needed to know now was
what Balliwick had found in Huatalacan. Was it occupied? Was there was an army
to fight? Was the power of Whitecloak completely destroyed? All these questions
crowded into his mind as he waited. As usual, he relied on his advisor to know
the answers.
He went for a walk through the fortified city
that he had acquired with so little effort. It still carried the stain of
Tlaxacan invasion but everywhere he had his men pulling down and burning, so
that the marks of the enemy were being rubbed out. He admired the mix of elven strength and skill
that was revealed – its strong walls, the engineering of its foundations on the
mountainside, its strategic position. It puzzled him that Balliwick seemed to
find the city so uncongenial. Was there something that he was missing? He knew
that many in his army felt that the green eyed creatures in the mountains were a
brooding malevolency but he, personally, couldn’t feel that – he sensed no
danger in them and so gave them very little thought. Sometimes in his sleep he
had dreamt of them as little green lights hung up all over the mountainsides,
and he would walk among them as if he were floating through a galaxy of green
stars.
After wandering the streets for
twenty minutes or so he walked up the hill that led to the highest battlements
in the city. He climbed until he had the best view out to the south east,
across the foothills and over the scattered woodlands and palms that grew in
number as the plains stretched southwards. The city of Huatalacan was just a
vague smudge of grey on the horizon, but his army could be there in three days,
and after that, who knows how far they could go. The Empire could be reinvigorated by human
blood and a new world could be created out of the ashes of evil. And that new
world could still be fashioned in the image of the past, so that the cities
could glow again just as they did in his wonderful book.
In the growing light he could see the
puffs of dust raised by an army, still in the distance but coming ever closer.
His heart leapt – that must be Balliwick returning, and he was sure that it
would be with good news. Von Eisen wrapped his cloak around him and sat
watching as the approaching army expanded from a distant cloud into a
well-disciplined phalanx of horsemen. The hope in his heart grew with every
galloping hoof beat, as he waited patiently to embrace his destiny.
***
Boo landed on the cobbles and sniffed the
air. She could sense that her quarry had been nearby and then had moved on, but
the scent seemed to be getting stronger – it might be best now to stay still
and wait. Her brief reverie was interrupted, however, by Hardacre, who appeared
quite suddenly next to her. He moved immediately, intending to scoop her up and
run on into the darkness of a doorway.
They had landed in the middle of a
courtyard just next to the main gate of the city. With teleporting there was
always a brief period of uncertainty in the mind of an observer. Hardacre had
learned to use this momentary confusion to avoid being detected – the key thing
was to hit the ground running. So, the Boo-scooping, the jinking run and the
slide into the dark doorway would have been
perfect if he had not had a princess attached to his arm, and one who
had no idea what she was doing. Hardacre took a few steps forward and stumbled;
the illusion was broken and a group of guards saw him immediately. They were clearly
confused by this sudden vision, but they began to move uncertainly towards the
intruders. Hardacre knew that he had no magical energy left and that it would
be impossible for all three of them to escape by running. It looked like their
capture was inevitable.
There was a very loud grinding sound
just behind the guards. Half of them turned round to see the main gate opening,
but the others continued to watch Hardacre and Lily very carefully. All Hardacre could do was wait and hold the
wriggling Boo. He wondered why she was so excited. Lily was hidden behind him,
shivering but making no sound.
A handful of knights marched through
the door and then Balliwick sauntered in behind them, smiling broadly. There
was a beat while he registered that something strange was going on and then he
looked up past the guards and into the open courtyard. He saw the intruders and
he hesitated for no more than a second. During that time Hardacre realised,
with a deadly sickening feeling, why Boo was wriggling so much. Now he knew who
Boo had been tracking. Death was very close.
‘You?’
shouted Kratos. He swung round, splayed his fingers and stretched his arm out
towards Hardacre.
‘Brydia,
brydia, brydia’ he screamed. A gout of fire rushed out of his hand and flew
across the space between him and his enemy. The guards standing in the way were
burnt instantly to toppling embers.
‘Duck!’ shouted Hardacre, without any
hope at all, and he and Lily threw themselves onto the floor. At that moment
Boo wriggled free and jumped, quite deliberately, into the full force of the
torrent of flame. She was briefly haloed with an intense orange light, but she
did not catch fire. Instead, she buzzed so loudly that those around her put their
hands to their ears. Then the magical blaze poured entirely into her and was
extinguished. Her wings grew to fill almost the whole courtyard, she gave a
small, but clearly audible belch, and then she was gone. She was finally full
and now she could go home.
Hardacre didn’t wait to see exactly
what had happened to his pet. Everything in front of him was now burning and the
one man left standing appeared to be Kratos, awash with flame but unconcerned.
His only hope was to run on through the fire and smoke to somewhere safe. He
dragged Lily up and they ran into a passageway that led away from the main
gate. They could smell the wooden parts of the fortifications burning but they
forced themselves on through the choking smoke.
‘Who was that?’ asked Lily, her voice
high and weak
‘Kratos’ whispered Hardacre, ‘an old
enemy and a terrifying one’
‘What do we do now?’ she sobbed
‘Find somewhere to hide’
They stopped in their tracks; in
front of them was a dead end, just the white walls of buildings on three sides.
Hardacre scanned around but could see no way out except to turn back. They
could see no-one following, but they could hear voices just beyond the
billowing cloud of smoke that they had just passed through.
‘I’ll have to go back’ said Hardacre,
grimly, ‘you stay here – I’m sure that they won’t harm you as long as you make
it clear who you are’
Lily looked up at Hardacre. Her eyes
were streaked with tears but her head was quite clear.
‘Use the bag!’ said Lily,
‘What?’ responded Hardacre, confused
and bewildered.
‘The bag’ she said, ‘it worked for Erik and me!’
‘But that might be dangerous…’
Lily allowed herself a small laugh,
despite the howling fear sounding in her ears.
Hardacre hesitated no further. He
scanned the alley for a suitable place and then pulled the bag off his back. He
moved rapidly to wedge it under an old barrel that was propped up against the
wall. It was now invisible to anyone who didn’t shift the barrel.
‘You first’ whispered Hardacre, as he
mouthed the opening trigger words. The bag opened and Lily climbed inside.
Hardacre looked around to check that no-one had seen Lily enter and then he wriggled
in himself. As soon as he had gone inside he muttered the closing words and the
bag closed up. All light was immediately snuffed out.
Hardacre fell to the floor, utterly
exhausted. That had been very close. He looked up into the blackness, trying to
guess where Lily was.
‘Princess Lily of Amansk’ he said,
sternly, ‘you have a lot of explaining to do’ but in the darkness he was
smiling. He had never felt so relieved.
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