Sara Douglass. The Twisted Citadel. DarkGlass Mountain: Book Two

Armat despised Axis. He”d had his day, and if he had won some impressive battles, then

they were long in the past. All Axis had done at Isaiah”s court was wander about and play at

being Isaiah”s lapdog. If it had been him…well then, Armat would have murdered Isaiah and

taken control within his first half day back from death.

Axis hadn”t done a single thing to impress since he”d returned from death. He was a

useless legend.

Armat was similarly unimpressed with the Lealfast. They had wings and they had magic,

but they were as vulnerable to the blade as Ravenna would one day prove to be.

Armat had come away from Isaiah”s assassination attempt with one important lesson

learned. The Lealfast might travel virtually invisibly, but in order to act they needed to take

fleshly form, and that instantly put them back on a par with human soldiers. Armat also

wondered if they might be just as vulnerable when they were less visible.

Just a hunch, but Armat was good with hunches. It was why he”d attained a generalship at

such a relatively young age.

A day previously he had sent out a small party to test his hunch. They were due back

today, and thus he waited in the sheltered doorway of his tent.

Waiting for confirmation that he could destroy any Lealfast sent against him.

Armat smiled in anticipation. Once the Lealfast were taken out, then Axis…

The armed party of nine men came back just before noon. Their leader rode directly to

Armat”s tent, dismounted and saluted.

“Well?” said Armat.

“It was as you said, my lord.”

Armat took a deep breath, his eyes bright, then stepped inside the tent, gesturing the man

to follow him. “Tell me,” he said.

“We rode two hours to the gully you spoke of,” said the soldier, Habal.

Armat nodded. They”d known the Lealfast were in their area, and no matter how magical

the Lealfast were in large numbers they could be spotted—a gray snowy cloud drifting through

the air. A good man could easily differentiate between a cloud of true snow and a cloud of

Lealfast.

“Bruen peeled off before we arrived at the gully,” Habal said, “and took up a concealed

position within the rocks at the top of the gully.”

“Yes, yes,” said Armat. “Get on with it.”

“The eight of us remaining rode into the gully, making no effort to conceal ourselves, and

flying your standard. Within minutes the cloud of Lealfast drifted closer for a look.”

Habal took a deep breath. “Bruen readied his slingshot, took good aim, and slung his

stone into the cloud. The Lealfast hadn”t seen him and hadn”t tried to avoid the spot where he

was concealed.”

“And? ” Armat was ready to murder the man for drawing it out.

“One of them fell from the sky. Not far, not all the way to the ground, for he recovered

twenty paces before he hit, but he fell, clutching at a thigh where the stone had struck. My lord,

the instant he was injured—”

“He became visible. Good, Habal. Good!”

Habal grinned, relieved to have made Armat happy.

“Do you think he knew what had hit him?” Armat said.

“I doubt it, my lord. He would only have felt the sting of the impact. The Lealfast must

still be wondering what it was. If I may say so, my lord, your idea to use the slingshot rather than

the arrow was brilliant.”

Armat didn”t say anything. He stared at Habal, his eyes glittering, then he very slowly

smiled. “You are a good man, Habal. You bring me good news. Thank you.”

He clapped the man on the shoulder, then dismissed him.

Good news. The best.

The Lealfast were vulnerable, even when traveling in their magical form.

“I”m going to slaughter them,” Armat said, then laughed.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

On the Road to Serpent’s Nest

Ishbel sat relaxed on her horse, allowing the animal to amble at its own pace beside the

great convoy of soldiers and equipment. She rode ten paces or so to one side of the convoy,

slightly distanced from it not only physically, but emotionally as well (Madarin, riding five paces

behind her, was such an easy and accepted part of her life that she didn”t consider his silent

presence an intrusion). Partly this was because she wanted to think over the visits of Lister and

Ravenna, and partly it was because she was a little unsettled by the arrival of Garth and Egalion.

She hadn”t spoken to either of them since their brief, initial meeting, yet knew that by now

Maximilian must have told them all that had happened.

The loss of their daughter.

Her affair with Isaiah.

His with Ravenna. Ishbel”s hidden identity as Archpriestess of the Coil, and her tie by

blood to the Persimius family.

Elcho Falling.

Ravenna was a troubling element in the mix. Ishbel knew that Garth and Ravenna had

worked together to free Maximilian from the Veins eight or nine years ago, and that they had

been very good friends. Given Ravenna”s own hatred of Ishbel, and Garth”s previous dislike of

her, Ishbel did not think Garth would think much more of her now, particularly not once

Maximilian had done with his tale.

It was a shame, because Ishbel was tired of disliking him, and thought that he could well

be a good friend.

“Wake up, my lady. You are about to fall off your horse.”

Startled, Ishbel snapped out of her reverie. Garth Baxtor had ridden his horse up

alongside her, and was now regarding her with a mix of careful friendliness and anxious uncertainty.

“Garth,” Ishbel said, not knowing how else to continue.

“I should retract my words about the falling off,” Garth said. “You have gained some fine

horsewoman”s skills since last I saw you, my lady.”

Ishbel managed a small smile. When first she”d left Serpent”s Nest to travel west with

Maximilian she”d barely been able to sit a horse without falling to an ungracious heap on the

ground.

“I have had many months” practice since then, Garth.” Ishbel paused. “And, please, call

me Ishbel. I am sorry I ever snapped at you for being too familiar.”

The wariness in Garth”s eyes relaxed fractionally. “Ishbel, then.”

He lapsed into silence, and for a few minutes they rode in an increasingly awkward quiet.

“Has Maximilian told you—” Ishbel began.

“Yes. He spent last night with Egalion and myself. Ishbel, what a tale. I…had no idea…”

“You must think poorly of me.”

“No. Not at all. Not now having heard so much of who Maxel is and will be, and of who

you are and were, and of how the both of you were manipulated by so many around you.

Vorstus…I had no idea…I cannot believe how Maxel has not taken a knife to him. And Lister,

and what he did to you…Ishbel, it has been a tragedy.” He thought a moment. “And the greater

tragedy is that you and Maxel are now estranged.”

Estranged, thought Ishbel. Such a stiff word for what has happened between us.

And how inappropriate, she thought, with a little start of self-realization. Currently she

and Maximilian were at their least “estranged.” They”d been far more estranged when they”d

shared a bed and a marriage.

She gave a shrug as her only answer.

“You know that once I was opposed to your marriage,” Garth said.

Ishbel gave a nod.

“I wish…” Garth said, then trailed off. “This is very awkward,” he finished.

Ishbel looked at him at that. “I had thought you would dislike me even more once Maxel

had told his tale.”

“No,” he said. “It has made me see, made me wish, that you and Maxel—”

“It won”t happen, Garth. Too much has gone wrong between us. There has been too much

tragedy. No one survives that.”

“You and he should—”

“No, Garth. No. It is better the way it is now.” Ishbel smiled wryly. “We have never got

on so well, or so honestly, as when we are good friends working together toward a single cause

rather than lovers or spouses. At least we can be at peace this way.”

Garth thought that “at peace” didn”t quite manage to describe either Ishbel or Maximilian

right now, but he let it pass. He did not want to interfere. Whatever happened was up to the gods.

“I spoke with Ravenna this morning,” Garth said.

“Ah.”

“I thought at the time that she has changed so much, but then, after some reflection, I

wondered if she had changed at all. I don”t know. She was so unknowable even as a girl, and so

determined always to get her own way.” He fell silent again. “Whatever friendship that once was

between us has gone, I think.”

Ishbel didn”t respond to that.

“I feel for Venetia,” said Garth. “She is a woman I admire greatly.”

“I have had little to do with her,” said Ishbel, “but from my few brief meetings, yes, I

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