— 57 —

Tobin’s attack had temporarily distracted the Plenimarans from their assault on the citadel.

Leaning wearily on the ramparts, Lutha and Nikides watched with mounting hope as Tobin’s small army decimated the Plenimaran force and drove it back behind the walls. Tobin’s banner was at the forefront of every charge.

Despite this initial defeat, the remaining Plenimaran host still held the city and the citadel. The remaining Palatine defenders were exhausted from pushing off scaling ladders and putting out fires.

The Plenimaran catapults had been moved up the hill two days earlier and rained a steady bombardment of stones and fire. Many of the outer villas and temples had been lost. The Companions’ former quarters at the Old Palace were an infirmary, filled with the wounded and the homeless.

The Plenimaran commander, Lord General Harkol, had demanded their surrender twice the day before and twice Korin had refused. They had water and food enough for an extended siege, but had long since exhausted their supply of arrows. They’d been reduced to tossing anything they could find down on the enemy’s heads—furniture, paving stones, chamber pots, logs cut from the trees of the Palatine gardens and the Grove of Dalna. They’d even thrown down the stone effigies from the royal tombs.

“I believe the queens would approve,” Chancellor Hylus had said dryly when he’d suggested it. “They gave their lives for Skala. I’m sure they would not begrudge a bit of stone.”

The old fellow must have been right, Lutha thought. They’d managed to crush several Plenimaran necromancers at a blow with Queen Markira.

Watching Tobin’s forces regroup that afternoon, Lutha shook his head. “You don’t believe that nonsense of Niryn’s, do you, Nik?”

“About Tobin claiming to be a girl?” Nikides rolled his eyes.

“No, I mean about him turning traitor and trying to take the throne.”

“I believe that even less, but Korin seems to. You saw him the other day. And I don’t like the way Niryn keeps him shut away every night, pouring wine down his throat and poison in his ear. That scares me more than that army down there.”

Tobin attacked twice again before nightfall, storming the walls and barricades. The Plenimaran line held, but the ground beyond was littered with their dead. Rain blew in off the sea just after sunset, and clouds sealed the sky.

As the last light faded, another host marched out of the gloom to the south. It was impossible to make out their banners but Nikides said it looked like knights and yeoman, probably from Ylani and the towns of the middle coast. There were at least two thousand, and suddenly the Plenimarans found themselves besieged in the burned waste they’d made between the harbor and the citadel. The forces around the citadel began to thin and the flickering movement of torches through the night showed that they were dividing themselves to fight on three fronts.

I won’t do it!” Korin said, pacing back angrily around his private sitting room. The room stank of wine and fear.

Niryn glanced over at Chancellor Hylus. The old man sat by the fire, his mind filled with treason, but said nothing. Niryn’s hold over Korin was nearly complete and they both knew it.

Niryn had convinced the prince to leave his remaining Companions outside the door on guard—all but Caliel, presently glowering at Niryn in the shadows near the door.

It was nearly midnight. The storm had risen steadily since sunset. Rain and sleet lashed against the windows in angry gusts. The night was impenetrable except for the occasional flash of lightning.

“For Skala’s sake, Majesty, you must consider the possibility,”. Niryn urged as another gust of wind shook the windows. “This new force from the south is nothing but a peasant rabble! They won’t turn the tide, any more than Tobin’s army will. Not in this weather. They know they’re outnumbered and they’ve withdrawn. But the enemy sappers haven’t stopped at the Palatine gate. I can hear them when the wind drops! They could break through at any moment and what will we do? You have only a handful of warriors left.”

“The Plenimarans are caught in the same storm,” Caliel countered, voice trembling with thinly veiled anger. “Korin, you can’t just run away!”

“Again, you mean?” Korin shot back, giving his friend a bitter smile.

“That’s not what I said.”

Niryn was pleased to see some hint of division at last. “It would not be running away, Lord Caliel,” he said smoothly. “If the enemy breaches the gate, they will kill everyone they find, including our young king. They’ll drag his body through the streets and display his head as a trophy in Benshâl. The Overlord will wear the crown and Ghërilain’s Sword at their victory feast.”

Korin paused in his pacing and gripped the hilt of the great sword hanging against his hip. “He’s right, Caliel. They know they can’t take the whole country with one assault, but if they destroy Ero, capture the treasury and the Sword, kill the last of the line—how long will Skala stand after that?”

“But Tobin—”

“Is as great a threat!” Korin shot back. “You’ve heard the reports. Every Illioran left in the city is whispering about it, saying the true queen has come back to save the land. Three more priests were executed today, but the damage is done. How long until this rabble unbars the gate to the renegades? You saw the banners among Tobin’s army; the countryside is already rising to join him—or her!” He threw his hands up with a snarl of disgust. “It doesn’t matter what the truth is; the ignorant already believe. And if he does manage to break through, what then?” He drew the sword and held it up. “Better for the Overlord to have this than a traitor!”

“You’re wrong, Kor! Why can’t you see it?” Caliel cried. “If Tobin wanted the city to fall, why come to our defense? He could just as easily have delayed and let the invaders do his dirty work for him. You saw how he fought today. Wait, I beg you. Give it another day before you do this.”

Alben burst in and gave Korin a hasty salute. “Korin, sappers have broken through under the wall and the main gate just fell. They’re pouring in like rats!”

Korin’s eyes were like a dead man’s as he turned to Caliel. “Gather my guard and the Companions. Ero is lost.”