Page 50 of Siege of Stone (Sister of Darkness: The Nicci Chronicles 3)

As the shock wave died away, Nicci held on to her horse, impressed by what Lani had just unleashed, though it had only pushed the hordes back temporarily. Still, a delay was all they needed right now, to give the Ildakaran army a chance to return to safety behind the walls. Though she longed to keep fighting, Nicci recognized the great losses they were suffering.

“Wizards, duma members!” She amplified her voice with the gift. “We’ve done all we can. Back to the city walls!” Fanfares sounded from the remnants of the city guard, and High Captain Stuart shouted to his troops. The morazeth continued to fight as they withdrew, while blood-spattered arena warriors dispatched a few more opponents as they fell back.

Nicci watched Mrra leap in among the enemy soldiers, wreaking havoc. The big panther was still full of energy, but Nicci saw several wounds in her rune-marked pelt. She sent a thought to her sister panther, not sure she would get through in the heat of a killing frenzy, but she urged Mrra to retreat, to flee from the spreading grass fires and find a place in the forest where the cat could be safe.

Fearing the Ildakarans might slip through their fingers, Utros’s army shouted an eerie battle cry. More soldiers arrived just in time to reinforce the damaged front ranks. Nicci saw the enemy ranks grow stronger by the minute and knew the Ildakarans had little time to get away. She wheeled her horse about and shouted to Oron, Damon, Olgya, and Quentin. “All of you, use your gift to push them back. We need to buy time for the retreating army.”

Not far away, the city of Ildakar was bright in the moonlight. Torches and braziers burned on the top of the high wall from which a crew of sentries watched the battle below. The gifted duma members called their magic again. Oron summoned a hailstorm that pelted the hardened warriors. Nathan and Elsa hurled fireballs against the swelling hordes of enemy fighters.

General Utros was too far away to join the actual fight himself, but Nicci saw him ordering his soldiers to form a tight line to protect his headquarters and a large supply wagon from the encroaching grass fires. His twin sorceresses, pale and beautiful in the firelight, conjured their own magic, manipulating winds to divert the fire. Ancient soldiers lined up to form a human barricade, physically blocking the flames from reaching the headquarters, the wagon, and a set of large barrels. The warriors screamed as the flames rushed upon them, but they stood firm and endured, deflecting the blaze.

“Once more, Lani! Shake the ground!” Nicci cried.

The half-stone sorceress dropped to her knees again, focused her gift, and produced an impact that knocked back the enemy army.

Taking advantage of any respite, the Ildakaran army retreated toward the city. They had decimated the enemy ranks they had targeted, and they had to escape before they, too, were killed. Nathan and Elsa joined them, flinging more fire for good measure. Nicci still found the energy to summon her own wizard’s fire, which she exploded into the nearest line of relentless soldiers.

Utros’s army continued to close in.

Nathan and Elsa were running, but couldn’t keep up. Nicci rode close on her charger. “Wizard, take my hand! Join me on horseback.”

“Not without Elsa!”

“I can’t carry both of you,” Nicci said.

Then Damon rode up. “Ride with me, Elsa. You did well tonight. All the duma members did.”

“Well, then I accept your offer,” Nathan said, swinging up onto the bay charger behind Nicci.

She yelled a retreat again, but the Ildakaran fighters needed no further encouragement. “We’ve made our mark on them tonight, and Utros will know that we can hurt him.” She allowed herself a hard, personal smile. “We’ll make an even grander plan for our next attack.”

With Nathan situating himself in the saddle behind her, pressing against her back, Nicci drove her horse at a gallop. Elsa mounted behind Damon, and they rode after. The weary and battered soldiers raced toward the giant open gates. With some relief, Nicci sensed that Mrra had loped away into the wilderness, fleeing the fire and escaping safely.

But even with the apparent success of their mission, there were far too few of the original fighters returning to Ildakar. Far too few.

The enemy army pursued them, giving the survivors a surge of energy. Crowds flooded through the high gates, and Nicci glanced behind her, wondering how many Ildakaran soldiers would be trapped outside. She didn’t like to abandon the fighters who had followed the duma’s plan and offered to fight for their city, but very few were still out there battling the ancient army. Most of those left behind had already fallen in combat. These hundreds rushing through the gates were all that remained.

Nathan leaned close as they galloped through the high gates. When most of the soldiers had stumbled through, the sentries inside worked the huge wheels, cranking the thick ropes to pull the enormous gates shut. As the gap closed, a few stragglers scrambled in, tripping and sprawling to the cobbled streets. One young man, bleeding profusely from an arm wound, picked up a woman who had stumbled, and they limped off to the side and collapsed together. The last of the party careered through the closing gap.

The immense gate ground shut with a thunderous boom. Shouting workers shifted crossbars the size of trees into place just in time as the ponderous Utros army slammed into the walls. The half-petrified soldiers began their implacable pounding again, like constant thunder.

From her mount, Nicci surveyed the exhausted and chattering fighters. Some were jubilant, others moaning in pain, still others shuddering with long-delayed terror. Behind her, Nathan said, “Dear spirits, what a battle that was!”

Nicci let out a long breath. “Yes, but we tested them, and we tested ourselves. Ildakar proved its mettle, and we damaged Utros.”

She was surprised to see Lila alone. The morazeth looked bedraggled, covered with soot and blood, her spiky hair damp with perspiration.

Nathan’s breathing hitched. “They hurt us as well, Sorceress. We’ll be a long time counting our losses.” He paused to look around, and his eyes fixed on Lila, who seemed forlorn. His voice cracked as he pointed out what Nicci should have realized immediately. “And Bannon is gone.”

CHAPTER 38

When he saw only three ships from Captain Kor’s

raiding party return to the Norukai islands, King Grieve saw no cause for rejoicing. He’d intended to host a celebratory feast, possibly even serving some of the delicious yaxen meat to the victorious captains.

Instead, he felt anger rise within him. Something had gone terribly wrong.

In the previous raid of Renda Bay, the villagers had found new ways to fight, even using a powerful sorceress. The previous captain had been foolish and overconfident. Chalk had never liked the man, which meant that King Grieve never liked him, and he returned from Renda Bay with excuses for his failure. Any Norukai should know not to come back alive from such defeat. Without remorse, Grieve had fed the captain to the serpent god.

Kor’s raid, though, with twice as many ships and fighters, should have avenged that ignominious loss.

Now, the cylindrical iron bells tolled a mournful clamor, which the king could hear even up in the Bastion. Grieve snapped his extended jaws open, feeling the scar tissue along his cut lips. He gnashed his teeth, as if he meant to tear out Kor’s throat and grind his spine into dust. Bunching his fists, he clacked the iron plates in his knuckles together.

Chalk squatted in front of the fireplace to warm himself by the flames, hunching forward on the hearth. When the bells rang out, the shaman sprang to his feet. “A sad mission, a terrible mission, my king. Renda Bay!”

With growing anger, Grieve left his throne room and climbed the steps to the Bastion’s high rooftop so he could watch. Chalk scampered after him.

At the second landing above, a door opened and a slave emerged carrying a stack of folded blankets. She took one look at King Grieve’s expression and fled back into the corridors. Grieve would remember her. He had seen her face, and he would punish her later. For now, though, Captain Kor would be the one to receive the brunt of his anger.

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