Dream Magic (37 page)

“Milord!” called a breathless courier who ran up the steps to greet him. “They call for a parlay! They bear the flag of truce and approach the walls.”

“Shoot them down,” said Fafna, stepping near.

Everyone around her looked shocked at the suggestion. They stepped away from her everywhere she went, as if they could smell burnt flesh. Perhaps, thought Brand, they could.

Brand shook his head, but he did not admonish the dragon for the suggestion. “That is not our way.”

“But it should be, if you want to keep your own sanity. The woman will talk, and she will twist any who go out there to meet with her. You can’t parlay with a witch!”

“I understand what you’re saying. But I’ll not fire upon a flag of truce. I’ll not dishonor these walls on the morning of their first battle.”

The dragon slithered away, grumbling.

“I’ll go talk to her,” Trev said. “She can’t affect me.”

Brand looked at the boy with upraised eyebrows. “Not a bad idea, I have to admit. But it won’t do. I’m the lord of this castle, and I will meet with the witch under the flag of truce. If she breaks the truce by attempting to subvert my thinking, we will have no further compunction.
Any form of knavery will be allowed. In fact, if I do not return, I want you to order the Great Tree to attack immediately. With luck, it will catch them by surprise and do them great harm.”

The rest of them looked unhappy.
Trev dared to touch his arm as he made his way to the stone steps that spiraled down to the courtyard.

“Brand, I beseech you. She is not what she seems. I have met her, you have not.”

Brand took the advice seriously. He reached back and took hold of Ambros and a strange grin spread over his face.

Trev
immediately removed his hand from Brand’s mailed sleeve and took a step backward.

“Good move, child,” Brand
said, in a voice that was not entirely his own. “I will not bow to this witch. She’ll not bend my mind now—for it is bent already!”

With a wild laugh, he charged down the steps, taking them two at a time. The rest watched him go in alarm.
He vaulted onto his horse, which nickered and shied in dread.

“How can he parlay like that?”
Fafna asked.

“Maybe he doesn’t mean to,” answered Telyn.

The ride on his charger was a blur to Brand. One moment, he was sprinting across a courtyard, and the next it seemed to him he was whipping his horse and roaring with impatience. The great gates swung open and he galloped out alone to meet the enemy.

The flag was held by none other than Gudrin h
erself. At her side was a woman who had to be Morgana. They rode under a flag of truce, but they did not seem pleased at Brand’s reckless approach.

On the walls behind him, Brand heard his men cheer. They saw him charge, the Axe raised high and shining with yellow light. They all felt its power come over them, and their spirits were raised. In its own way, the Axe was like the Sunstone, in that it had power over the minds of men. But it only served to goad them to combat, nothing more refined than that.

The two women held their ground as he charged closer, his horse throwing up black clods of earth behind it. He only slowed at the last moment, pulling on the reins.

“No!”
shouted a voice in his mind that was not his own.
“Don’t stop now, cut them down! You will have won in a stroke!”

Not following that
advice took all the strength Brand had in his mind. He
wanted
to do it. Gudrin was a traitor, a turncoat, a worthless cur! The witch Morgana was pure evil, a vicious creature like a poisonous spider crawling from beneath an overturned stone. They both had it coming, and none would blame him for a deed well done!

No
, he told himself, pulling harder on the reins. He could not. He would parlay, but he would do so from strength. While the Axe gripped his mind he could not fall to the witch’s charms.

When they stood close enough
to converse, Gudrin spoke first: “You’ve had trouble with the Axe before, but never so soon in a battle. Put it away, lad, before you cut off your own steed’s head!”

Brand looked at Morgana with wide, staring eyes. “And you? Do you have advice for me as well,
Witch of the Wood?”

Morgana shook her head. Brand turned to Gudrin and sneered. “Why would I listen to a dog like
you? A creature that grovels at her mistress’s feet? A soulless, toothless has-been who embarrasses the Kindred throne with her wart-covered arse!”

Both women looked surprised. Neither seemed to have expected this approach to peace talks. But while Brand was able to restrain himself from attacking them on the spot, the Axe held sway over his tongue. He said what he felt and he didn’t give a damn about the consequences.

“Brand,” Gudrin said. “I’m shocked you would be so unable to understand the situation. Morgana seeks to bring us all peace. Have we not fought a dozen wars over these Jewels? What’s the point? What has been gained?”

Brand
gnashed his teeth. He gestured with the Axe over his shoulder at the walls behind him.

“You see my castle? That’s what we’ve gained! If the River Folk had stayed quivering in their beds, waiting for the next
wandering changeling to steal each of our infants, we’d be living like the merlings in mud huts. But now, we have strength and honor. We bought those goods with our blades and our raging hearts!”

Gudrin turned to Morgana. “It’
s hopeless. He sees no reason. He’s in the grip of Ambros, and I can’t overcome that with logic.”

“Perhaps I can suggest a solution,” Morgana said, daring to step her horse a pace closer.

As she approached him, she locked her gaze with Brand and smiled sweetly. He had to admit, she was a comely lass. If she’d been a tavern wench and he’d been a dozen years younger…

But no
. He had to hold onto his hate, his rage. These women had marched an army to his castle gates.

“Brand,” Morgana said, “may I mop the sweat from your brow? It’s early, but I can see you’re overheated already.”

She came slowly nearer, and her fine white hand lifted as if to touch him.

Brand shied away and snarled. “Have a care, witch. If you want to keep that hand attached to your wrist, you’ll keep your distance.”

Morgana retreated, rebuffed and angry. He could see in her expression a deep rage. She didn’t like being rejected any more than he liked being touched by a slattern witch.

He laughed at her then, enjoying her discomfort. “Did you think I was some fleet-footed youth trotting about in your
forest? No woman alive could command me like the sycophantic flock on the ridge behind you.”

His words did nothing to please Morgana. She sat stiffly, but managed not to curse him openly.

“Very well,” she said, “this meeting is pointless, and thus it is at an end.”

“What?
But you’ve made no proposals, woman! Speak a word or two at least! I didn’t ride all the way out here for my health or just to gaze into your snake-like eyes.”

Morgana, who’d turned her horse to leave,
wheeled back. Her eyes burned now, and he could see smoldering hate in them. This both amused and enraged him at the same time. The effect of the Axe upon him was like that of strong drink upon an angry young man. He saw grim humor in everything, a humor which might turn to murderous rage at any moment.

“I have a proposal
: Put away that Axe, let me caress you and clear your mind of erroneous thoughts. Then we will have peace today, and a thousand lives will continue, rather than being snuffed out pointlessly.”

“Listen to her, Brand, as I have. She speaks the truth. There is no point to war. There is no need.”

“May I remind you who marched from their hollow mountain to my lands under arms? Was that I, who rolled up to siege your home? Am I the one demanding all the Kindred throw down their arms and love me as their rightful ruler? No, ‘twas you, lackey!”

Gudrin shook her head sorrowfully. “You don’t understand as I do, Brand. I will find it in my heart somehow to forgive you, but I’m not sure the Dead will at the end of this day.”

“Go home, the both of you!” Brand shouted, turning his charger back to the gates. “Bake bread, sing songs, drink ale until you can’t see straight! That’s my advice to you both, and before the day is done you’ll wish you’d heeded it!”

* * *

“I’m going to kill that man,” Morgana said flatly.

“His mind is affected by the Axe, milady,” Gudrin said. “He’s not himself.”

Morgana and her followers watch as Brand went back to his castle gates laughing, and in high spirits. His garrison troops cheered to see him return unharmed. As best they could tell, the parlay had gone extremely well.

“I don’t care who he is. When this is over, he dies. There will be no weaseling by any of you on that point.”

She turned and glared at each of her top servants in turn. Oberon nodded and smiled, seemingly unperturbed by the edict. Gudrin and Tomkin seemed concerned, but nodded obediently.

Morgana whirled around to face the walls again, her eyes wild and blazing. “Forward! March the army! Bring down those gates! Gudrin, send your crawlers in first to open the path for the rest.”

G
udrin cleared her throat loudly and the rest looked at her. Morgana’s eyes flashed dangerously.

“Milady,” she said, “I like the simplicity of you
r new plan, but it does not follow our strategy. The goblins have yet to come. They were supposed to open the gates by taking the walls by surprise from the air.”

“I know what the plan was!” Morgana screeched at her. “Are you daft or incredibly stubborn? The goblins have not arrived. Either they’ve been waylaid or—well, they must have been distracted somehow. Perhaps Old Hob’s hold over his barbarous people is not as firm as he’d like us to think. In any case, we’ll have to do this without him. You’ll have to
do this with the crawlers. Take down the gates. With your flame combined with that of the machines, the task should be a simple one.”

“But what about
the tree, milady? The Kindred forces were to be used to counter it, as was my flame.”

Morgana frowned and walked close to Gudrin. She cocked her head to the left,
and stared into her eyes. “You’re not fully my creature, are you Gudrin? You pretend, but I know the truth.”

“Ask me what you did upon our first mee
ting,” Gudrin said evenly. “My answer has not changed.”

“Very well. Do you want me to hold all Nine of the Jewels of Power? Do you want me to thus rise to the level of Queen over all nature, and god
over all lowly mortals upon this world?”

“I do, milady. I do. I would see you gather all the ancient stones together. I would see you possess them all.”

Morgana stared at her closely and then, after a time, she nodded. “I can’t detect a lie in your speech. Perhaps it is simply the nature of the Kindred to be irritating and disobedient.”

“That is quite possibly so,” Gudrin admitted.

“Well, I don’t like it. There will be changes after this is over. Discipline will rule even your flagrantly obstinate folk. But I don’t have the time to alter your minds properly now. Enough talk. You all have your orders. Let the battle begin!”

No cheers
went up from those present. They were all as silent as stones. Morgana turned away and mounted a fine dappled stallion. The others rushed to their troops, save for Tomkin who stayed on the ground near his mistress. He had no army to command, as the Wee Folk had stayed well clear of him once the witch had grasped his mind.

Gudrin marshaled her forces and ordered them to march to the walls. Each crawler creaked and hissed as it moved and was followed by a company of Kindred heavy infantry. This was the heart of Morgana’s army, and she watched
keenly as they deploy.

As expected, the humans fired a volley of flaming pitch and man-long arrows from their siege engines the moment the Kindred were in range. Before they’d gone a hundred yards, one of the machines was skewered and burning. Two other infantry companies had taken hits and losses. But
the Kindred were not weak folk. They pressed ahead valiantly.

“At least they know how to die for their love of me,” Morgana said to Tomkin. “I find it touching to watch.”

“Yes, milady.”

“When the Great Tree moves to intercept them, call the Rainbow.”

“But the Rainbow and the tree have done battle before—my servant can’t stop it.”

“I know that.
Its job will be to press the attack against the humans. The walls aren’t tall enough to keep it from marching right overtop the battlements and into the enclosed lands. There you will knock the men from their posts on the walls until they are all dead or the Rainbow perishes.”

“It will go mad!”

“All the better,” Morgana said, smiling at him. “When madness takes the beast, make sure it is inside the walls surrounded by human troops. It wouldn’t do to have the monster damage our own armies.”