Douglas Niles: Measure and the Truth

The fortress sprawling hundreds of feet below the lookout was well-patrolled. Dark Knights were visible from above, posted on the parapets of the curtain wall and the gatehouses. Ogres lolled in the courtyards. To the northeast, on the tenuous road that Blackgaard’s men had carved, a procession of soldiers bore heavy packs laden with grain and fruit from the farms in the secret valley.

“Why we hide here?” demanded Ankhar, his ham-sized hands on his hips as he glared accusingly at the others. “Inside walls? This is not how ogres fight! This is not how I fight.”

“These walls are all that is going to keep you alive,” Hoarst replied pointedly. “And the spell that brought you here saved your life, you might recall. The town of dwarves didn’t give you any walls, and your ogres were dying by the score!”

“Bah!” The half-giant didn’t want to hear it. But neither could he come up with a witty riposte, probably because the wizard spoke the truth. The defeat at New Compound still confounded, dismayed, and enraged the half-giant. How could it have gone so wrong when everything had started out so right? His brilliant battle plan-wasted! He growled deep in his chest, smashing his fist down onto the rampart, which knocked a piece of stone loose and bruised his flesh. He watched sullenly as the chip of stone tumbled down for a long time, finally shattering in the courtyard next to a very startled ogre.

“Look,” the Thorn Knight said, striving for a reasonable tone. “We have a very strong position here. A thousand Dark Knights and a thousand ogres can hold this place for a very long time-perhaps forever. Nothing can move across the pass, and so we have cut Solamnia in two. Here, too, we control access to the secret valley to the north; the farms and herds there will give us all the food we need to stay holed up here for years if need be.”

“For years! But what will happen when the emperor brings his army up from the plains!” du Chagne declared harshly.

“I am not afraid of the emperor!” Ankhar roared, the force of his voice sending du Chagne retreating behind the Nightmaster.

“We are not here because we fear the emperor,” the priest stated coldly, “but because we can give him a battle to our advantage here. I myself will take command of the south gatehouse-that’s the most likely place for him to come against us.”

“I will see to the Knights’ Spur,” Hoarst said. “It’s a good position for guarding the approach on the road up from the plains.”

“And I will stay here, on the High Lookout,” Ankhar declared haughtily, “where I can keep an eye on everything.”

“What makes you think that will be enough?” demanded du Chagne, his voice quavering. “We all know he has one of his cannons left. He can set that up on the Wings of Habbakuk and blow this tower to pieces-even if it takes him all winter.”

“True, that bombard is a threat,” Hoarst allowed.

“Then why are you so sanguine about our chances here?” demanded the former lord regent.

“Because I intend to see that his vaunted bombard never reaches the pass,” the gray wizard replied confidently.

Coryn and Jaymes teleported from Palanthas to the far side of the great pass. There they would wait for the Crown Army, the Palanthian Legion, and the dwarves of New Compound, all of whom were marching as fast as they could across the plains. Even so, they knew it would be several days before the troops arrived.

“We should find a place we can use for shelter and to keep an eye on the road,” the emperor suggested. Coryn agreed and they started to ascend the wide roadway, remaining out of sight of the tower.

Nearby they found a small herdsman’s cottage adjacent to the road, about a mile below the pass. The shepherd and his flock were apparently spending the summer in the high pastures, so the place was abandoned, and they decided it would be a cozy place to wait.

Jaymes took a walk up the road, going about a half mile before he reached the last bend below the fortress. He went far enough to look at the tower rising so high about the surrounding walls, gatehouses, and fortifications. He thought ruefully of General Markus, always the boldest of his commanders. He knew that Markus and his Rose Knights would have given a good account of themselves. He was sorry the old veteran was dead.

“We will avenge you, good knight,” he said softly before turning and making his way down the road and back to the cottage.

When he got there, he found Coryn had made herself right at home. The white wizard had produced a wide array of objects from within her bags of holding, setting up a crystal ball on the little kitchen table, taking over a pantry to store her potions and little boxes of components. Her spell books went on a shelf beside the door.

As Jaymes entered, she was seated at the table, using the scrying ball to see what she could learn about their enemies.

“They’re all in the tower,” Coryn confirmed after quick scrutiny. “The Thorn Knight and the Nightmaster have both placed many spells of detection around the place, so I couldn’t probe too deeply. But the ogres that fled New Compound are manning the walls, and Ankhar himself seems to be the one in command.”

Jaymes gazed at her. Her black hair spilled across the back of her robe, lustrous and long, a sharp contrast to the whiteness of her garb. Those traces of silvery gray-premature in a sense, for she was still a young woman-only added allure to her appearance. Lost in concentration, she held her slender fingers to her chin, absently chewing on a nail as she studied the murky globe. Abruptly she looked up, surprising him as he stared at her.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I’ve been thinking… how much we have been through together… and how grateful I am to have your help. Nothing I have accomplished would have been possible if I hadn’t had your help, your support.”

She smiled radiantly. “Why… thank you. You’ve never said anything like that to me before.”

“You’re right,” he replied in some surprise. “I guess I never have. I should have before now. Long ago, I should have.”

Coryn rose and came to him, taking his hands in hers, her black eyes looking up into his own dark gray orbs. However, her expression was cloudy and troubled. “I have done things for you that I would never have done for anyone else. I’m not proud of everything. It was all toward a good end I trust, but sometimes I do regret the means we employed toward those ends.”

He nodded with understanding. She had brewed the potion he had used to win Selinda du Chagne’s heart, to cause her to fall-at least temporarily-in love with him. It was not something they had spoken of since that time-nor was it mentioned at that moment. But Jaymes remembered how surprised he had been at Coryn’s bitterness when he had explained he needed that potion. She had complied but had done the work in a cold fury.

Suddenly he remembered Selinda’s words about Coryn. Were they true?

The white wizard turned and sat back down at the table, that time chewing on a strand of her hair as she peered into the globe again. Once, she turned to the side and saw that he was still watching her. She smiled warmly again and went back to her inspection.

Jaymes decided that almost certainly Selinda had been right.

The Palanthian Legion and the Crown Army marched up the road, climbing the pass from the plains of Vingaard toward the High Clerist’s Tower. Dram and the dwarves came behind the human troops. The mountain dwarves rode on the driver’s seat of one of the freight wagons. He had, for once, persuaded Sally to do the sensible thing and stay back in New Compound with her father and son to supervise the rebuilding that had to get under way. He missed her terribly but was glad she was not riding to war.