Mistress of the Catacombs (58 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Ilna stepped through the passage she'd opened, into another universe as tightly encysted as the world of the spiders' exile behind her. Sunlight blasted her, glaring from a point in the pale sky and reflected from the bare, rocky soil.

Alecto's corpse lay at her feet. The flaccid skin had no shape but that of the bones it draped, but Ilna recognized the ivory pins still decorating the spill of lustrous black hair.

Alecto's bronze athame glinted some distance away. The wild girl had run for the last time from the danger her anger had called to life.

The Pack turned their heads to view Ilna. Their movements were like those of water or perhaps smoke, a drifting smoothness that seemed to lack volition.

Ilna stepped forward. "You'll feast well today!" she called, bravado in her voice and in her hands the knotted fabric with which she'd rent the wall between worlds.

She smiled coldly. She'd created a masterpiece in the truest sense, a work which could be fully appreciated by only herself and the One whose craft had formed the fabric of which each universe was a part. To a degree the spiders could understand what Ilna'd done, but their appreciation would be tempered by other emotions.

For a time. For the time remaining to them.

The first spider through the opening was the black and silver giant. That was as Ilna expected, and as it should be. The others were allowing their leader to accept the reward she so richly deserved for the plan she had made.

The brilliant sunlight must have blinded the spider's lidless eyes for a moment before they could adapt. When the giant saw what glided toward her and the gap beyond, her mental scream was as shrill as rock shearing. She staggered back, clambering over the bodies of her sisters who packed the hillside leading to the doom of their race.

"Ilna!" called Cashel. He stood partway round the circuit of this world from her. The Pack were confined to a mere bead on the fabric of the cosmos, smaller even than the world which held the great spiders; but like the spiders, they had windows of sorts that allowed them to interact with the greater universe. "Get around behind me! I'll do what I can!"

Ilna gestured toward the gap with her left hand, letting the fabric dangle from her right. She smiled at the Pack. She knew their tentacles would snatch her when they chose, no matter where she stood within the strait confines of their cell. She appreciated her brother's offer, but his strength and courage couldn't bring safety.

Besides, Ilna probably wouldn't have scuttled like a roach caught in the light even if she had thought it could save her life. Life had never been that important to her.

The Pack slid toward her. Their size was deceptive—one moment mountainous, the next no more than three slender poplar trees which nonetheless towered above her. She wondered if the Pack had physical bodies at all. In looking up into their faces, Ilna thought she glimpsed worlds of ice and crystal, each as real as Barca's Hamlet had been to her as a young girl.

Was the Pack triple or did her eyes see a single being in three aspects, none of them material in the sense that humans understood matter?

The girl behind Cashel raised her left arm to the white sun. The ruby on her finger sent fire from each facet, painting the otherwise-unseen boundaries of this cyst in the cosmos. It woke lambent flames beyond anything natural light could cause.

The leading member of the Pack leaned over Ilna—and bowed, and passed on though the passage she had torn for them to a larder that could last for ages if they husbanded their bounty.

The second bowed and also entered the world where terrified spiders fled in vain for their lives; then the third. The cell which had held the Pack was now empty, save for three human beings and the empty body of a fourth.

Unknotting her fabric, Ilna walked toward Cashel and the girl. The ruby shimmer fell on her and around her, seeming to pass through Cashel's braced body as easily as it did empty air. Frowning, Ilna turned to look over her shoulder. The gap she'd opened was starting to close.

On the other side, in the world of vegetation and spiders, the Pack ravened like wolves in a sheep fold. The body of the spiders' leader lay just inside the opening; the breeze ruffled the empty black and silver shell. A line of similar husks was scattered down the hillside. The Pack could stretch its enjoyment when victims like Alecto were scarce, but abundance drove it wild with bloodlust.

Ilna smiled without humor. And the Pack had spared her. In gratitude? Or did they think at some future time she would release them again to drown a world in slaughter?

She put the hank of loose cords to her sleeve. She might need the cords again, and perhaps she would need the Pack again some day also. The fabric of the universe was too subtle for even Ilna to read its pattern completely.

Cashel stopped spinning his staff and planted it before him. He took a deep breath. "I'm glad you came to rescue us, Ilna," he said. "Because I don't mind telling you, I didn't see any way I was going to keep those things back from me and Tilphosa."

The girl, Tilphosa presumably, nodded tightly. She kept her ring raised to the sun. The portals continued to close, the one Ilna had opened and also the one by which she and Cashel must have entered this place.

"Is she a wizard?" Ilna asked, with less warmth perhaps than she'd have shown if Tilphosa didn't seem to think that her trick with the ring was somehow special. Didn't she realize that Ilna could've closed the portal as easily as she'd opened it?

"No, she's just a lady who's been travelling with me," Cashel said. He turned. "Tilphosa, this is my sister Ilna."

Ilna glanced through the hole which slowly closed in back of her companions. On the other side was a city whose stones still dripped with the mud of a swamp.

A lizard covered with bony scutes waddled into view, shouldering massive walls into ruin whenever the way narrowed or twisted sharply. A black-robed woman turned but stumbled in exhaustion as she tried to flee.

The lizard's long jaws slammed on the woman. It jerked its head upward, flinging the victim up to fall back into the waiting maw. Her right arm spun separately, severed by the first crushing impact. The opening winked completely shut.

"Now," Ilna said, "we need to get out of...."

As she spoke, the world around her began to go dark. It was only as Ilna fell forward that she realized the dimness was in her eyes, not the sun searing down from above.

Tearing a hole in the cosmos hadn't been easy, of course, even for Ilna os-Kenset. Her last thought before her mind shrank to a point and went black was, "But it never matters what the task costs, so long as I do it...."

* * *

"I want you both to stay well back, now," Carus said to Tenoctris and Sharina as they entered the siege lines around Donelle together. "An archer on that gate tower can double the range he'd get on the flat."

The Blood Eagles marched before and behind Carus and the two women; the section under Attaper immediately about them were mounted, as were the score of aides and couriers who followed closely. Tenoctris, who couldn't very well have walked from the fleet encampment on her own feet, turned out to be an able rider.

That was a bit of a surprise in someone so devoted to scholarship, though Sharina knew it shouldn't have been. Tenoctris' father was a noble. He'd kept up his standards, though the horses may have eaten as well as the family on occasion.

The old wizard sniffed. "Precisely how will my death harm the Isles worse than yours, your highness?" she said. "And you're planning to go right out under the walls!"

Behind the earthworks and mantlets, Lord Waldron and his officers waited to greet the prince and the returning army. The line of march stretched back to the fleet, even though Carus had left a strengthened garrison with the ships. Tenoctris had warned of danger out of the water, though she couldn't be more precise despite her desperate efforts with an onyx scrying bowl.

"Well, I have to," Carus muttered. "Anyway, there's not much risk when the garrison sees Count Lerdoc's army is with us. Mercenaries have to be willing to die, but that doesn't mean they want to!"

"Yes," Tenoctris said. "And I need to get to the Temple of Our Lady of the Moon whether it's dangerous or not. The risk of a stray arrow isn't nearly as serious as what will happen if we don't hurry."

The Blaise army had been slower to fall into marching order than the disciplined royal troops, so for the most part it followed the royal army. Count Lerdoc himself led the battalion which immediately followed the Blood Eagles in the order of march, however; his lion banner waved in the van. No one on the walls could miss the fact that the force investing Donelle was now twice the size of the royal army alone, nor that there was no chance of outside allies rescuing the city.

Sharina leaned closer to the old woman to speak without being overheard. "Tenoctris, are you feeling all right?" she asked. "You seem—"

"Snappish" was the word that suggested itself. The tendency was common in others but Tenoctris was a model of gentle humility at most times.

"—worried," Sharina finished. She'd also been raised to be tactful and pleasant.

Tenoctris laughed, suddenly her normal self again. "Dear, I'm quite terrified," she said simply. "For some time I've been sure that these Children of the Mistress don't understand the forces they've put in motion. Now that I'm sensing what it is behind them, using them like game counters, I'm.... Well, whatever it is, it hasn't the kingdom's good at heart, and I don't imagine that it's thinking of humanity's good either."

Lord Waldron must have started shifting his artillery as soon as the courier informed him of the king's plan. He'd placed in front of Donelle's main gate all the catapults and balistas he could move in the available time; the remainder of the heavy weapons were on the way also, hunching along the circuit of the walls on carts and sledges drawn by men as well as draft animals. The old noble knew he couldn't prevent his monarch from exposing himself, but he intended to make the risk to an archer in Donelle obvious.

Sharina helped Tenoctris dismount behind the mantlets. Lord Waldron used his position as army commander to greet Carus alone. He didn't try to force his way past the king's guards, but none of his subordinates stepped forward with him.

"Your highness!" Waldron called between the shields of two Blood Eagles. "I've made what preparations I could, but I don't think—"

"On the contrary, milord," Carus said, tapping the guards unwillingly aside, "you've thought things through very well. But it's still me who has to go out there."

Taking off his helmet, he added, "They need to know who's offering them their lives. Now, shift one of these mantlets so that I can get through."

The pulleys which moved the city gate began to squeal. Both heavy leaves lurched open, hands-breadth by hands-breadth each time the men at the capstans took a step. Mercenaries tossed their shields from the gate towers and began to shout. It was a moment before they fell into unison so that Sharina could hear, "We surrender!"

"By the Lady!" Carus said. "It seems it'll take even less to convince them than I'd thought!"

He shoved his way between mantlets which troops had just started to move. Sharina, slimmer and at least as quick, slipped through also before Attaper shouted, "Hey! Don't let her—"

The dozen men coming out the city gate were mostly common soldiers, though a pair of officers in gilded breastplates followed at the end of the delegation. They didn't carry shields or spears, and several had taken off their swordbelts as well.

A burly soldier stepped ahead of his fellows to kneel before Carus and Sharina. "Your highness," he said, his face close to the ground, "I'd say, 'Give us terms,' but I'll tell you the truth—"

He looked up, his scarred face twisted in fear and misery.

"—the only thing we really care about is our lives. And if you execute anyway, well, at least we're out of that hellpit inside the walls!"

"What I planned to offer was to enroll you in the royal army if you'd surrender the city," Carus said cheerfully. "You've already performed your part of the bargain, so you don't need to worry about me keeping mine. But what is it you're so determined to get away from?"

Squads of Blood Eagles were double-timing through the gap they'd torn in the siege works and taking position between the king and the mercenaries. Though they didn't pick up the kneeling spokesman and hurl him back to a safe distance, Attaper and a junior officer planted their legs so close on either side of the man's head that he looked as though he were crawling through a dense thicket.

"They've grabbed up a child," the mercenary said. He hadn't exactly relaxed, but he rose from prostrate to a kneeling position. "We figure they're going to sacrifice her in their temple. It's not like we're a bunch of saints, but—"

"I don't want any part of killing kids like a goose for a feast day," said another soldier. His words were slurred because the same old wound that scarred his cheek had taken out the teeth on the left side of his jaw. "And I sure don't want any part of whatever they plan to call up by killing kids!"

There was a general mutter of agreement. Some of it came from the Blood Eagles nearby.

"That's what I was afraid of," said Tenoctris. Sharina jumped. Tenoctris had hobbled up behind her, unnoticed in the noise of heavily armed troops pounding into the clear area around the city walls.

Tenoctris went on, "The spell's been in place for hundreds of years, maybe for millennia. All that remains is to feed it with blood now that the planets are in conjunction. We must stop it."

The Blood Eagles, Carus' staff, and the first battalion of Count Lerdoc's forces, came through the siege lines. As they did so, more mercenaries began to pour out of the city. The Blood Eagles were disarming those who hadn't left their weapons behind, but nothing worse than a few harsh commands and complaints passed between the mingling armies.

"Aye, we must," said Carus, drawing his sword. "Which I'd say about any wizards who think to work blood magic in reach of my blade—whatever their purpose for it!"

Raising his blade as a standard, he bellowed, "Lord Waldron, deploy the phalanx at all the gates. Nobody leaves the city till I'm sure we've dealt with all the wizards, the Children. Blood Eagles, skirmishers, and heavy infantry in that order—with me to the temple, where we'll put a stop to whatever's going on!"

Carus pointed to the mercenaries' spokesman. "You're our guide," he went on. "Now!"

The soldier got to his feet. If he had qualms about returning to the city he'd just escaped, he didn't show them.

"Right!" he said as he turned. He paused only to hand Attaper the dagger still in his belt sheath; he'd left his sword, the most expensive part of a soldier's equipment, behind in the city.

"I need to be as close as possible!" Tenoctris cried. Carus and the black-armored bodyguards advancing to the gate ignored her.

Sharina bent, taking Tenoctris' left arm over her shoulders and gripping the wizard around the waist with her right arm. It'd be easier if Cashel were here, but Sharina's own strength had never failed her when she needed to accomplish something.

"I'll help you, Tenoctris," she said. "Just do what you can and we'll get there!"

Sharina trotted forward, her long legs easily matching the pace of men in armor. The old wizard was an awkward burden, but her weight wasn't a problem yet. It might be later, especially since the temple was on the highest ground in Donelle, but they'd manage.

Cashel was where he was needed. Sharina had to believe that, and it had always been true in the past.

But she needed Cashel very badly herself just now, less for the strength of his arms than his strength of character. Cashel was solid as nothing else in Sharina's world was solid. She supposed Cashel could be worn down, though she'd never seen anything she thought was capable of doing that.

But he wouldn't break. Ever.

The streets of Donelle were eerily empty. The clashing hobnails and rattling equipment of running soldiers echoed because there was none of the usual city noise to blur and dampen it. Ahead of Sharina and Tenoctris were most of the Blood Eagles, with Carus and Attaper in their lead. Behind followed the rest of the army with the exception of the phalanx, whose long pikes were useless and dangerous in street fighting.

Not that there was any fighting yet, or any sign of a fight brewing.

The mercenary was taking them by a main street, but it twisted frequently and was never more than twenty feet wide. At an intersection, a well curb blocked half the pavement. The troops shouldered one another and snarled curses.

"Go around to the right!" Sharina ordered the armored men to either side of her and the wizard. "Don't let anybody step on us!"

"Right," said the brawny veteran beside Tenoctris. To the troops crowding him he bawled, "Room for the ladies, curse you!"

Sharina wasn't sure he recognized them, but she'd spoken with authority. When men don't know what's going on—and only the section with Carus at the head of the guard regiment did have any idea of what was happening—there's nothing they want more than somebody to tell them what to do.

Sharina opened her mouth to breathe more freely. Tenoctris was now a weight on her arm, and though Sharina wore sandals with heavy soles the shock of her feet against the cobblestones was sure to raise bruises by the morning.

Tenoctris gasped with each stride, her eyes open and her mouth staring. Sharina was taking her weight, but the effort of keeping her legs under her was a great one for the old woman. Occasionally she stumbled, but never did she fail to catch herself before Sharina had to pick her up.

A cat watched from a rooftop, then vanished silently as the troops hammered past. It was the only animal Sharina had seen since they entered the walls. Hunger would have bitten quickly in a city which had been packed with the whole population of the district even before the start of the siege.

The troops came out onto the avenue around the base of the steep hill at the heart of Donelle: the Citadel when the community was founded, but Our Lady's Mount during the past centuries of relative peace throughout the Isles. Though this street was no wider than the one the army had been following, the buildings on the other side straggled up the slope instead of forming a solid wall.

For the first time, Sharina had a good view of the temple. She gasped. The grounds and the sparsely-wooded hillside below were crawling with people: sitting on walls and roofs, packing the street that led up to the temple, and clinging to the trunks and branches of trees.

Sharina had never seen so many human beings gathered in one place. It reminded her of termites swarming in spring as a new colony prepared to take wing. The crowd chanted, but its very numbers turned the words into a threatening rumble like distant thunder.

King Carus had paused to assess the situation. The route to the temple was blocked by the vast number of civilians praying to their Mistress. Carus gave an order to the troops nearest to him. They locked shields, braced their spears in their right hands, and prepared to advance.

"Sharina!" Tenoctris cried, her voice clear despite the effort it must take the old woman even to breathe after their run through the city. "Stop the king! Don't let them start killing now or it'll be as bad as the sacrifice the Children intend! The spell feeds on blood, and it doesn't matter whose blood it is!"

Sharina heard the urgency in her friend's voice. She let go of her and sprinted forward. Tenoctris swayed but didn't fall; that didn't matter now.

An armored man couldn't have moved against the press of other armored men. Sharina could and did, slipping through any gap and using her considerable slim strength to shove aside troops who didn't expect to be pushed from behind that way.

King Carus raised his sword, preparing to give the signal for the butchery he considered an unfortunate necessity. He wasn't a cruel man, but he must have been a hard one even before decades of campaigning inured him to slaughter.