Richard Knaak - The Citadel

The victims of the attack had all been brought to the great chamber where followers of the goddess met. Most of the others regarded the temple with awe, but to a war wizard, the miracles of Mishakal seemed less astonishing than the great spells cast in battle. Still, they had cared for him here, and he was grateful.

At last Tyros turned to his visitor, who had been waiting impatiently for the mage’s attention. He was a rough-hewn veteran of many a combat. His chiseled face bore scars on one side, and his black eyes were weary of killing but willing to do it again, a man whose education contrasted to his barbarian look. He had thin hair tied into a ponytail and a short beard. His skin wasn’t as dark as that of many Northern Ergothians, but neither was it as light as those from the south. Leon matched him in girth, but whereas the white wizard was fat, what lurked behind the newcomer’s silver breastplate was muscle.

The officer frowned at him. “Arrogant mage …”

“Captain Bakal.”

“Tyros.” Bakal had been appointed liaison to the wizards, supposedly because an uncle of his had performed the same function. The more likely reason was as punishment. The captain had a habit of disobeying his superiors’ orders in combat and doing what had to be done. That he generally chose the correct course of action mattered not a whit to the military command.

“To what do I owe this visit?”

“I’ve come to see if you can finally be debriefed today.” Bakal’s mouth curled up. “Think you’ve the stamina, boy?”

Bakal had made it plain long ago that he had no use for an arrogant, self-serving wizard such as Tyros. They had sparred a good deal in the past, but today Tyros was in no mood to do battle. He leaned back and idly eyed Mishakal’s emblem.

The weary mage blinked, realizing that he had nearly drifted off to sleep. His gaze shifted back to Bakal, who now showed some concern.

“Are you all right, boy?”

“I’m sorry. My head still throbs.”

The captain shifted from kneeling to sitting. “Probably shock. It can stay with you for some time.”

Tyros tried to straighten again and was pleased with his eventual success. “I’ll be better. It’s just …”

The veteran nodded. “That’ll happen.”

“Maybe … maybe if you tell me how the battle came out, it will help me to focus.” Tyros was curious to find out what had happened to the citadels.

“All right.” Captain Bakal leaned back. “You deserve as much, I suppose. There’s some call you one of the heroes, because the dragons and the lads followed your basic plan. I’d be more inclined to call the brave ones who died in destroying the first castle the true champions.”

So they had perished. “Tell me about it.”

“You must’ve been right about the thing’s weaknesses, boy. Did the one you helped destroy in the east go the same way?”

“No.” In truth, no one actually knew exactly which part of his theory had led to that citadel’s collapse. Those at the scene only knew that it had crashed, killing both friend and foe. Yet it had been hailed as a victory, and one that Tyros had readily accepted as time passed.

“Well, anyway, Sunfire tells me that he dropped the men onto the tower. One fell off, but the remaining pair got inside that place where you think the navigation is done.” Bakal’s tone grew bitter. “They were only supposed to capture it, but something must’ve happened, and instead they blew the tower to bits-along with themselves.” He shook his head. “I never liked your plan, Tyros. Too risky.”

“It wasn’t mine alone,” the mage protested, not wanting to take all the blame for the deaths.

“Well, you’ve not hesitated to take credit for it in the past.” The veteran shook his head. “The point is that they damaged the thing mortally and sent it spinning out of control.”

Tyros recalled the sight of the massive castle spinning madly as it headed out to sea. “Did it land in the water?”

“Aye, the sea claimed it. There’ll be no salvaging that citadel. It flew out several miles beyond shore before it dropped.”

A twinge of regret struck Tyros as he thought of all those secrets, lost forever. “What about the second one?”

A chuckle escaped the captain. “You saw those two black dragons who tried to fool Sunfire and Glisten? The lady, she sent that upstart dragon flying, didn’t she?”

Tyros could hear the man’s admiration as he spoke of the two golden dragons. It was an admiration Bakal had never shown him or any other mage. He interrupted the soldier’s reverie. “The second citadel, Captain?”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. After the first one went tumbling out of control, the two golds grabbed the other black before he could escape.”

“I saw that,” the weary spellcaster said, growing impatient.

“Well, they tossed the second black right at the citadel! He hit the castle with such force it rained stone in the harbor. Must’ve upset something inside, because the citadel wobbled a lot after that, then hightailed it out of there as best it could.”

So one of the fortresses had escaped, but not without damage. Tyros wondered if it had been forced to land somewhere nearby. He’d have to listen for news.

“They’re sorry about your tower,” Bakal added. “They never meant it to happen that way.”

“The tower?” A light within dawned. “I heard the dragon cry, and then the tower shook. The draconians …”

Not realizing the extent to which Tyros now relived those fateful moments, Captain Bakal nodded. “The young black collided head-on with the citadel. He stayed aloft, but the blow must’ve addled his senses. Instead of escaping, he flew back into the city. Only he didn’t watch too well where he flew, and he sides wiped your tower.”

Tyros saw the ceiling come down again. Then Leot fell. The monster loomed before the wizard once more.…

“Mage!” Bakal had his thick hands on Tyros’s shoulder. He shook the spellcaster gently. Slowly the wizard recovered.

“The dragon … the black …” he began. “He hit the tower a second time, didn’t he?”

“Aye, after he had regained some sense and saw the two golds coming. As he backed away, he hit the tower again, this time a more direct blow. I saw the whole thing collapse as I battled one of those blasted draconians.”

Attempting to avoid another recurrence of his nightmare, Tyros shifted the course of the conversation. “The draconians. The invaders. They’re all dead?”

“Or captured. Some had sense enough to surrender. Light casualties on our side. Got the feeling that the draconians knew they’d been tossed into the fire the moment they landed. There are some segments of the city that burned, but overall we came out all right. The storm helped us, too. Bad luck for whoever planned this invasion.”

“Which will make him all the more desperate,” Tyros mused.

Bakal looked at him in surprise. “You could be right. This may not be the end of things.”

“Perhaps not,” the tired wizard muttered, feeling light-headed again. “If that’s all for now, Captain, I’d like-”

“Hold on, boy. I haven’t even asked the questions I came here to ask.”

“You probably know more than I do, Captain. A lot of what happened remains a blank to me.”

“Such as how you survived.” The graying officer eyed him closely. “We’re still trying to figure that out. The tower collapsed completely, yet you managed to come out more or less intact.”

“Except for my skull.”

“We found you unconscious well outside the ruins of the tower. There was no indication how you got there.”

Tyros forced himself to a sitting position. “Captain Bakal, I really don’t-”