Conqueror’s Moon (50 page)

Mero was assigned to guard the stairs, with orders to get close to Snudge if he heard someone coming so that they could both defend themselves while invisible. The great vault was poorly lit by torches, so there was a good chance the two boys working on the hose would not immediately be seen by the guards.

Snudge unwrapped the tarnblaze bombshells, black iron spheres about two handspans in diameter, with long wicks protruding from their iron necks. Each shell was enclosed in a net made of stout cord for easy handling. The infernal devices were usually used in siege engines or in naval catapults when an explosive effect was required, rather than a gout of unquenchable fire.

Snudge used leather thongs from the sacks to tie two of the shells to his own swordbelt. The others he lashed together and slung about his neck. They weighed at least ten pounds apiece.

Saundar and Belamil reached their goal and began chopping. The hose was twice as thick as a man’s leg. Though flexible to accommodate the movement of the counterweight, it was obviously extremely tough.

“I’m going to cross over,” Snudge told Mero, “to be ready as soon as they finish making the hole.”

“Why not leave your invisibility amulet with me?” Mero suggested. “You won’t need it—and I might.”

“The magic only works for the stone’s owner. I’m able to use it only because Iscannon the sorcerer died. It burns any other person who touches it.”

Mero’s eyes narrowed a fraction. “But I tried to take it from you once when we were horsing around. Remember? You kneed me in the balls! I’m sure I touched the amulet then.”

And so he had—before it had been empowered.

“No, you couldn’t have done.” Snudge’s tone was offhand. “I’ll send Belamil and Saundar back before I toss the bombshells into the water-chamber. All of you take cover in the alcove behind the stairs when I give the signal. I don’t think the explosion will blast the counterweight to pieces and kill me, but if it does, the rest of you will have to secure the portcullis machinery as best you can.”

Mero gasped. “Saint Zeth!… But how shall we do it?”

“With luck, there’ll be so much confusion after the blast that no one will pay much attention to you, even if you’re visible. Just take off your knightly surcoats so you’re not obvious outsiders. Climb to the upper floor, strike down anyone you find there, and barricade yourselves in. Then lower both portcullises and keep them down until Prince Conrig and the army arrive. There’ll be the usual weapons stockpiled above to shoot with or drop through the murder-holes. Use them if the trapped guards refuse to surrender. Just be damned certain that no foeman gets out of the tower and across the bridge to give warning in Mallburn Town.”

“Very well… You seem to have thought this out rather thoroughly.”

Snudge shot a glance over his shoulder as he headed for the catwalk. “Stable boys have their share of low cunning.”

“You’re more than that, Deveron,” Mero said smoothly, “as you’ve reminded the rest of us often enough.” He drew his razor-sharp varg sword and strode through the collapsed bodies of the pump workers to take up his position near the stairs.

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“Ready?” Snudge called. “Take cover, everyone! I’m lighting the bomb wicks.”

He had tied all four of the wax-soaked fuses together. After igniting them with his talent, he balanced the net-covered iron spheres on the ragged edge of the hose-cut until the flames disappeared into the necks of the shells. Then he pushed the deadly load into the hole and scrambled for his life.

As he dove behind the bascule pivot, a devastating thunderclap of sound deafened him. He felt the massive iron housing lurch and sway like a speeding cart hitting a pothole. Water rained down on him, and the entire vault chamber was instantly filled with an opaque cloud. Snudge lay flat, covering his head with his arms, while echoes of the explosion reverberated from stone and metal. The entire tower shuddered. A single fragment of broken iron clanged down, narrowly missing his body.

Then it was over. He heard distant shouts from the bridge deck above, a stifled groan that was much closer, and the continuing sound of rushing water leaking from the great ruptured tank. The wall-torches had been extinguished and the only illumination came from the staircase opening. Trembling, filthy, and soaking wet inside his chain mail, Snudge struggled to his feet and attempted to use his talent to scry the others in the misty shadows on the opposite side of the vault.

Another low groan. He searched the alcove where his companions had taken refuge and saw a single figure standing upright amidst the swirling steam clouds. A second crouched on the floor, bent over a third, who lay prone and motionless.

Snudge felt his way back to the pumping platform along the catwalk, which had remained intact. From above, a Didionite shouted, “Hoy! Down there in the vault! What in God’s name has happened?”

Snudge yelled, “Don’t come down! Danger! Don’t come down!”

“Deveron?” A voice called softly from near the stairs. Mero.

Snudge scried that the bully still held his sword, and its tip rested at the back of the crouching squire’s neck. Whoever that other boy was, he had lost both his helmet and his mail hood.

“Are you safe, Deveron?” Mero called out again. “I can’t see you. Come across.

I think Saundar was hurt by a piece of falling iron and Belamil may be injured, too. Come and help us.“ Oh, shite…

Snudge grasped Concealer and silently bespoke the spell. He reached the . platform, where a few of the bludgeoned workers were stirring and moaning. The cloud of vapor dissipated rapidly, revealing Mero’s burly figure looming above the other squires.

“What have you done?” Snudge said quietly. He had come to a halt a dozen feet away from the trio. Slowly, he drew his own sword.

Mero chuckled. “Ah. So you’ve gone invisible, have you? But I’m certain you can see me—with your damned wild talent, if no other way. Belamil will die in 1 the next instant, unless you cancel the amulet’s spell and show yourself. Do it now!“ The blade of the varg glittered wickedly.

”BI FYSINEK. Don’t harm him!“

Belamil lifted his head and stared at Snudge with eyes bereft of hope. “He’s gone mad. He coshed us both with a sock before you set off the bombshells. When I woke after the blast, I saw he’d slain poor Saundar—”

“Shut up!” Mero barked. To Snudge: “Cast down your sword.” After that was done, he said, “Take off the amulet and put it on the floor. Carefully.” “Don’t!” Belamil shouted.

But Snudge obeyed. Mero nodded in grim satisfaction. “Now step back from it ten paces and get on your knees.” Again, the younger boy complied. “Good.”

“You can’t use the stone yourself,” Snudge said desperately. “It only responds to persons of talent. If you touch it, you’ll be burnt!” “Liar.”

“I’ve done what you asked. Let Belamil go free!” “Yes. I’ll give him his freedom.” Mero thrust the varg into Belamil’s nape with a single savage thrust, killing him before he could utter another sound. Snudge screamed in horrified disbelief. “You murdering whoreson!”

“Don’t move!” Mero bellowed. He let the body fall. Three swift paces , brought him to the green-glowing sigil. With a crow of triumph, he scooped Concealer up by its thong and held it dangling from his left hand. His right still gripped the hilt of the bloodstained varg. “Now it’s time for me to go invisible and finish you off… BI DO FYSINEK!”

Nothing happened.

Mero cursed in a good-natured fashion. “Of course! I forgot one important detail. First, the former owner must die!” He flipped the sigil on its thong, intending to stuff it into his belt-pouch, and grasped the moonstone in his bare fist.

His shriek of agony echoed in the vault. Snudge smelled something like burning pork. He rolled frantically sideways as Mero reflexively brought down the varg with all his strength, still voicing that hideous scream. The fine steel blade struck the stone floor, missed its intended target, and broke in half. The sigil flew from what had been Mero’s hand and struck the wall beside the stairway alcove. It fell, blazing like a green meteor, and came to rest less than two feet from Saundar’s corpse.

Protruding from the left sleeve of Mero’s mail shirt was a blackened mass of nearly fleshless bones. He staggered about like a drunken man, never ceasing his howling, as Snudge retrieved his own blade, sprang to his feet, and dashed back to the comparative safety of the catwalk.

Mero ignored him. He had caught sight of shining Concealer and lumbered toward it. “You won’t have the amulet either! I’ll destroy the cursed thing.” Bending, he drew Saundar’s broadsword from its scabbard, swung it high, and brought the heavy blade down with practiced accuracy on the moonstone.

Open-mouthed, Snudge saw the tall armiger bathed in emerald incandescence, suddenly frozen in place, a statue clad in chain mail and a tattered, filthy surcoat, clutching a lowered sword. A moment later the dank air was filled with a shower of bright particles, fiery embers that once were flesh and bone, cloth and leather and forged iron. The embers faded to a scatter of cinders that did not quite conceal the foxfire glow of the sigil partially buried beneath them.

Snudge came off the catwalk and trudged through the fallen bridge workers. He seemed to view the terrible scene from a far distance. It could not be real. Later, he told himself, he’d surely discover that his two friends were not dead, that brutal Mero had never attempted treachery.

Later—after he’d taken care of the portcullises and finally secured Mallmouth Bridge for Prince Conrig and the Cathran army.

He picked up Concealer and wiped it clean. The sigil would need a new thong. For now, he thrust it behind the collar of his padded gambeson, beneath his shirt, where it rested warm against his bare skin. He spoke the spell of invisibility, then mounted the stairs swinging his sock full of coins.

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By the time he had struck down the last of the stubborn ones and herded those who had yielded into the custom clerks’ small chamber, the head of the Cathran column, with the prince in the lead and Vanguard and Beorbrook attending him closely, had crossed the bascule and was waiting at the closed southern portcullis. It took the last of Snudge’s strength to operate the great windlass and haul up the counterweighted iron grate. Then he made himself visible, slipped the sigil into his boot, and trudged wearily down to hold his master’s horse while he dismounted.

“Well done, Deveron!” Conrig exclaimed heartily, and the other two great nobles also added their congratulations. The prince continued in a low voice. “We have let it be known that Princess Ullanoth’s magic was responsible for taking the bridge, and you and the armigers merely assisted her… Where are the other boys?”

Snudge’s eyes welled up and he was too spent even to wipe away the tears making runnels on his sooty face. “Alas, Your Grace. It grieves me to inform you that they have perished.”

“Great God!” said the duke. “This is melancholy news.”

“We must retrieve their poor bodies before quitting this place,” the earl marshal said.

“Where do they lie, lad?” the prince asked. “I’ll send my Heart Companions to retrieve them. Your three brave friends shall still ride with us as we conquer Didion.”

“Only the remains of Saundar Kersey and Belamil Langsands can be so honored,” the boy muttered. “The armiger Mero Elwick was—was destroyed utterly by evil magic. All that is left of him is ashes.”

“God’s Breath!” Vanguard whispered. “And you: are you hurt?”

“Only slightly, lord Duke.”

“How did this come to pass?” the earl marshal demanded. “If the Mossland witch was not actually here—”

Conrig held up his hand. “My lords, now is not the time to question Deveron. He has accomplished his task and is plainly near the end of his tether. I must confer with him myself before we continue on into Mallburn Town. Godfather, please see that the northern portcullis is also opened so we may proceed across the river, and demolish the winch mechanism so that the grates cannot be lowered again. The prisoners must also be secured. Earl Marshal, bid all of our troops to take brief ease and inspect their mounts and weapons. Array the advance force that is to engage the Town Guard garrison on the opposite shore. And find my brother Stergos and send him to me to tend Deveron’s wounds. Inform the other noble leaders that we’ll sally forth as soon as we receive word from Princess Ullanoth.”

The two nodded and turned their mounts back towards the column of warriors, which waited silently in the murk.

Conrig spoke curtly to Snudge, “Hobble my horse, and give an account of your actions as you do so. I want to know everything—particularly why you deemed it necessary that the other armigers should die. It’s true that I commanded you do all possible to guard the secret of your sigil and talent, but there will now be inconvenient inquiries made, especially by Feribor Blackhorse.”

Snudge held the prince’s eye without flinching, even though tears continued to course down his face. “It was Count Feribor’s squire, Mero, who murdered the other two, not I. He slew Saundar out of hand, even as I blasted the bridge machinery with tarnblaze. Then he threatened to murder Belamil unless I turned over to him my Concealer sigil. When I put down the stone so he could take it, he killed Belamil with a single thrust of his varg. We fought. He attempted to command Concealer and failed. He tried then to destroy it. Instead, it engulfed him in green flame… and vanished from my sight. I know not what has become of the stone. Perhaps the Beaconfolk themselves have taken it back. If so, I’m glad of it, for it was a thing accursed.”

The prince gave a sharp inhalation of breath. He was silent for a long time. “I beg your pardon for accusing you unjustly.”

Snudge nodded. “There’s something else I must tell you. Mero knew that I am a wild talent. He made sly insinuations during our journey and accused me of it openly before he died. I’ve cudgeled my brain, trying to think how I might have betrayed myself to him—indeed, how he might even have come to know such a phrase, which is not commonly known, except among magickers. I did not betray myself, Your Grace. I can only conclude that Mero learned of my wild talent in some other way.”