Richard Knaak - The Citadel

Unable to speak, the captain stumbled back, trying to stay out of reach of the monstrous animal. His left foot caught on something, though, and Bakal suddenly found himself falling backward. The dagger went flying from his hand.

He was dead, and he knew it.

Nothing happened. He waited for the beast to leap on him and rend his throat, but it did not. Finally, lifting his head, Bakal dared to look into the alley.

Nothing. The alley stood empty. No beast. The scarred veteran found himself shivering as he had not done since nearly being beheaded by an enemy soldier during the height of the war.

Wizards, draconians, gargoyles, clerics, kender, and now …

“A griffon!” he gasped. “A griffon!”

This city was getting too crowded.

“Who is Cadrio?” Tyros asked.

“You don’t know him?” His beautiful intruder looked surprised. “He tried to sack your city!”

“You mean the attack. Is Cadrio one of the surviving Dragon Highlords?”

“He served under one. Now he’s trying to rally what’s left of Takhisis’s armies to his banner.” She gave him a wry smile, which made his heart flutter. “But he hasn’t done a very good job of it so far. This debacle will set him back. Unfortunately, from what I’ve learned, General Marcus Cadrio is more dangerous when he’s desperate.”

Tyros’s brow rose. “You sound as if you know him well.”

“In a sense. I’ve been hunting him for some time.” She suddenly rose. The sphere of light remained just above her left hand. “I can see I’ve wasted my time here. You don’t know where I can find Cadrio. I’ll be leaving now.”

“Wait!” Tyros closed the door behind him. “I didn’t say that. Besides, I have some questions for you, too. First, who are you?”

“These robes should tell you well enough, mage. I serve the Bard King, Branchala, and I’ve no time for your questions. I need to move on.”

Tyros didn’t want her to leave. “Please!” He put on a smile that had captivated many young ladies of the court. “My lady, please. We have a mutual interest here if you seek those who tried to invade Gwynned. I’d like to know more about this Cadrio. I think there may be a few things I can tell you, too.”

She considered his words for a moment, then, with some reluctance, sat back down in the only chair. The glowing sphere drifted to a point near the ceiling and remained there. “Perhaps you have a point.…”

“I think so. You know me, I believe, fair lady, but what should I call you?”

“Serene.” She glanced about the room. “This place makes me claustrophobic.”

As a cleric of a woodland god, Serene no doubt was more accustomed to the outdoors. Tyros sympathized but could do little for her. “I apologize. Would it help to open the window?”

She wrinkled her slightly upturned nose. “This entire city stinks of too many people with too little idea of cleanliness … but, yes, the window would probably help.”

Tyros gestured. The window flew open. “Yet you sat here in the dark all by yourself.”

“I could imagine it was night and I was in my home in the woods, enjoying my privacy.”

“I see.” The mage recalled the bundle of food held in the crook of his arm. “I’ve just come from an arduous journey and had planned to eat. Will you join me in a small meal while we talk?”

Again she considered long before reluctantly agreeing. “I would appreciate that. It’s been some time since I last ate.”

He set the food on the table, then pulled the latter around so that he could sit on the bed while Serene remained in the chair. She inspected his purchases with more disinterest than anything else but accepted whatever he offered her, including some wine.

Tyros took a sip of wine, only to grimace. “Best you don’t drink any of this. Tomorrow I will be having a few choice words with the man who sold it to me.”

“There’s no need for that. Hand it to me, please.”

She took the wine flask in one hand. From around her throat, she pulled a medallion upon which had been carved a harp such as a bard would have used. Murmuring what sounded like the first few lines of a song, she touched the flask with the edge of the medallion. The container briefly shimmered, but otherwise seemed no different.

Replacing her medallion, Serene poured wine for both of them. The wary spellcaster took a sip, then brightened as the nectar caressed his tongue. Serene’s jade eyes sparkled in amusement.

“This is the best wine I’ve ever tasted,” Tyros admitted.

“Surely with all your vaunted power you can conjure up something better!”

“Nothing like this.”

“Humility from a wizard. There’s hope for you yet!” She laughed, a sound like crystalline bells, then grew more serious. “Tell me what happened here, Tyros Red Robe. Tell me about Cadrio’s assault on Gwynned. I want to know everything you do.”

He told her, relating to Serene the shock of discovering the attack, the draconians falling from the sky, and the realization that not one but two castles floated above, raining death upon Gwynned. Serene listened in silence, her eyes narrowing when Tyros mentioned the flying citadels. She hung on his every word, leaning closer and closer as he proceeded. Mention of the gargoyles caused her to sit up straight, but when Tyros sought to question her, the cleric waved for him to continue.

Tyros felt both regret and guilt build up again as he told her about Leot. By the end, the mage found himself sweating and nearly in tears. Serene, though, made no comment about it.

“Gargoyles … there were gargoyles, then, too,” she muttered. To Tyros she asked, “Do you have any idea where Cadrio’s forces went? If you do, please tell me. He’s evaded me too long.”

The wizard shook his head. “I have told you quite enough. You owe me some information now.”

“My story wouldn’t interest you.”

“But it must be important for you to follow him so … or to try to enlist the aid of gold dragons.”

She flushed. “So you know of that, too.”

“I know that they turned you down.” Tyros chose not to mention his own failure.

“For the best of reasons. I’ll not risk some things even for army needs!”

“I understand the reason. Glisten’s reason.”

“Not even all my misery is worth endangering her and her eggs!” The cleric’s eyes grew misty.

“I understand.” Dragons regarded their young as very precious, even more than many humans did. “But dragons aside, I still want to know why you’re pursuing this general.”

Serene lowered her gaze. “I might as well tell you. I follow Cadrio because he’s stolen something very precious to me, someone I loved!”

Tyros felt a twinge of jealousy. Of course someone as beautiful as she would have suitors.

“I came upon the ruins of his home, destroyed by some terrible, violent force. We’d not seen each other for months, but I thought to visit him to see how he was doing.” Her hands tightened into fists. “They’d struck but days before my coming! I searched the ruins but found no trace of him. That was when I prayed to Branchala to grant me knowledge of what had happened and where I might find him. The Bard King sought fit to grant me my wish, although not as I might have liked. I received a vision, a collage of images. A castle that flew, winged creatures with horns-gargoyles, I came to realize-and my love’s home torn asunder like so much kindling, all his work laid to ruin or stolen.”

“And Cadrio?”

“And Cadrio. I saw his face, the vulture! I also saw a land I knew to be west of where I was, a land I later found the general had used for a temporary base. Unfortunately, Cadrio and his army had already departed.” For the first time, some hints of exhaustion showed. “I’ve chased him from the east of the continent to the west. I’ve seen his army and even looked the man in the eyes, from a distance, but not once did I ever have the chance to confront him.”