“Are you sure there are enough of them?” Anheg whispered to Rhodar.
The rotund King of Drasnia nodded. “All they have to do is secure a landing place for us and hold the gate once the Ulgos get it open,” he murmured. “There’s enough of them for that.”
A faint night breeze rippled the surface of the river, setting the ship to rocking. Unable to bear the suspense any longer, Ce’Nedra lifted her fingertips to the amulet Garion had given her so many months before. As always, a buzz of conversation filled her ears.
“Yaga, for gohek vilta.” It was Relg’s harsh voice, speaking in a whisper. “Ka tak. feedh.”
“Well?” Polgara asked, one eyebrow slightly raised.
“I can’t tell what they’re saying,” Ce’Nedra replied helplessly. “They’re talking in Ulgo.”
A strangled groan quite suddenly seemed to come from the amulet itself and then was quickly and horribly cut off.
“I – I think they just killed somebody,” Ce’Nedra said in a quavering voice.
“It’s started then,” Anheg said with a certain grim satisfaction. Ce’Nedra pulled her fingertips from the amulet. She could no longer bear to listen to the sound of men dying in the dark.
They waited.
Then someone screamed, a scream filled with a terrible agony.
“That’s it!” Barak declared. “That’s the signal! Pull the anchor!” he shouted to his men.
Very suddenly beneath the high, dark walls of Thull Mardu, two separate fires flared up, and shadowy figures could be seen moving about them. At the same moment, there was a clanking rattle of heavy chains inside the city and a creaking groan as a broad gate swung ponderously down to form a bridge across the narrow north channel of the river.
“Man your oars!” Barak roared to his crew. He swung his tiller hard over, steering toward the rapidly lowering bridge.
More torches appeared along the tops of the walls, and there were shouts of alarm. Somewhere an iron bell began to clang a note of desperate urgency.
“It worked!” Anheg exclaimed, gleefully pounding Rhodar on the back. “It actually worked!”
“Of course it worked,” Rhodar replied, his voice also jubilant. “Don’t pound on me so hard, Anheg. I bruise easily.”
All need for silence was gone now, and a great roar went up from the massed fleet following in Barak’s wake. Torches flared, and the faces of the troops lining the rails were bathed in their ruddy glow.
A great splash suddenly erupted from the river twenty yards to the right of Barak’s ship, showering everyone on deck with a deluge of water.
“Catapult!” Barak shouted, pointing at the walls looming ahead. Like a huge, preying insect, the heavy-beamed frame of the siege-engine balanced atop the wall, its long throwing arm already cocking back to cast another boulder at the approaching fleet. Then the arm stopped as a storm of arrows swept the top of the wall clean. A crowd of Drasnians, easily identifiable by the long pikes they carried, overran the position.
“Watch out, down there,” one of them roared into the confusion at the base of the wall, and the siege engine ponderously toppled outward and fell with a crash onto the rocks below.
There was a thunder of hoofs across the now-lowered bridge, and the Mimbrate knights crashed into the city.
“As soon as we tie up to the bridge, I want you and the princess and the other ladies to go to the north bank,” King Rhodar said tersely to Polgara. “Get back out of harm’s way. This will probably take the rest of the night, and there’s no point in exposing any of you to any accidents.”
“Very well, Rhodar,” Polgara agreed. “And don’t you do anything foolish, either. You’re a rather large target, you know.”
“I’ll be all right, Polgara – but I’m not going to miss this.” He laughed then, a strangely boyish laugh. “I haven’t had so much fun in years,” he declared.
Polgara gave him a quick look. “Men!” she said in a tone that said everything.
A guard of Mimbrate knights escorted the ladies and Errand perhaps a thousand yards upstream to an indented cove on the north bank of the stream, well away from the press of the horsemen rushing toward the beleaguered city. The cove had a gently sloping sand beach and was protected on three sides by steep, grass-covered banks. Durnik the smith and Olban quickly raised a tent for them, built a small fire, and then climbed up the bank to watch the attack.
“It’s going according to plan,” Durnik reported from his vantage point. “The Cherek ships are lining up side by side across the south channel. As soon as they get the planking in place, the troops on the other side will be able to cross.”
“Can you tell if the men inside have taken the south gate yet?” Olban demanded, peering toward the city.
“I can’t tell for sure,” Durnik replied. “There’s fighting going on in that part of the city, though.”
“I’d give anything to be there,” Olban lamented.
“You stay right where you are, young man,” Polgara told him firmly. “You appointed yourself bodyguard to the Rivan Queen, and you’re not going to go running off just because things are more interesting someplace else.”
“Yes, Lady Polgara,” the young Rivan answered, suddenly abashed. “It’s just ”
“Just what?”
“I wish I knew what was happening, that’s all. My father and my brothers are in the middle of the fighting, and I have to stand here and watch.”
A sudden great belch of flame shot up from inside the walls to illuminate the river with sooty red light.
Polgara sighed. “Why do they always have to bum things?” she asked sadly.
“It adds to the confusion, I suppose,” Durnik replied.
“Perhaps,” Polgara said, “but I’ve seen this happen too many times before. It’s always the same. There always has to be a fire. I don’t believe I care to watch any more of this.” She turned her back on the burning city and walked slowly away from the riverbank.
The night was interminable. Toward dawn, as the stars began to fade from the paling sky, the Princess Ce’Nedra, drawn with fatigue, stood atop a grassy bank near the cove, watching with a kind of sick fascination as the city of Thull Mardu died. Entire districts seemed to be in flames, and great fountains of orange sparks belched toward the sky as roofs caved in and buildings collapsed. What had seemed so stirring, so glorious in her anticipation had turned out to be something quite different in reality, and she was sick at what she had done. She still, nonetheless, brought her fingertips up to touch the amulet at her throat. She had to know what was happening. No matter how horrible the events were in the city, not knowing what was happening was even worse.
“Sort of a nice little fight,” she heard King Anheg say. The King of Cherek seemed to be someplace very high – atop the walls of the city perhaps.
“Pretty routine,” Barak, Earl of Trellheim, replied. “The Murgo garrison fought pretty well, but the Thulls kept falling all over themselves trying to surrender.”
“What did you do with all of them?” King Cho-Hag asked.
“We herded them into the central square,” Barak answered. “They’ve been amusing themselves by killing the Grolims we flushed out of the temple.”
Anheg suddenly chuckled, an evil sort of sound. “How’s Grodeg?” he asked.
“It looks like he’s going to live,” Barak said.
“That’s a shame. When I saw that axe sticking out of his back, I thought somebody’s solved one of my problems for me.”
“It was too low,” Barak said rather mournfully. “It broke his spine, but it didn’t hit anything else significant. He won’t be walking any more, but he’s still breathing.”
“You can’t depend on a Murgo to do anything right,” Anheg said in disgust.
“They did thin out the Bear-cult pretty thoroughly,” Barak noted cheerfully. “I don’t think there are more than two dozen of them left. They fought pretty well, though.”
“That’s what they were here for. How long do you think it will be before daylight?”
“Half an hour, maybe.”
“Where’s Rhodar?”
“He and Fulrach are sacking the warehouses,” King Cho-Hag replied. “The Murgos had some supply dumps here. Fulrach wants to confiscate them.”
“He would,” Anheg said. “Maybe we’d better send somebody for them. It’s getting on toward the time when we’ll want to think about pulling out of here. As soon as it gets light, all this smoke’s going to announce what we’ve done to anyone within twenty leagues. It’s about time to start the fleet moving, and it’s a long march back to the forts on top of the escarpment.”
“How long will it take you to get to the Sea of the East?” Cho-Hag asked.
“A couple of days,” Anheg told him. “You can move a ship pretty fast when you’ve got the current behind you. It will take your army a week at least to get back to the forts, won’t it?”