“Absolutely none of it,” Insharah said.
“Then the Lealfast will be well fed,” Georgdi said dryly, and Insharah nodded in agreement. “What did you leave behind that can be used against us?”
Insharah thought a moment. “We brought in most of our hand weapons . . . but there are engines of siege there, Georgdi, and military supplies . . . gods alone know what they can find useful.”
Georgdi sighed.
Eleanon and Bingaleal spent most of the first part of the night in greeting their fellows and helping to organise them into the abandoned encampment. They had recognised its potential and, while the Lealfast could indeed live on wing and air for extended periods, they vastly preferred more corporeal accommodations and comforts.
And comforts they had aplenty. There were tens of thousands of tents fully equipped with bedding, supply dumps of food and clothing and medicines and other sundries, stocks of fuel and water. Neither Bingaleal nor Eleanon felt there was any real threat from Elcho Falling: after the debacle of the Strike Force, and after that the horror and deaths in getting the Isembaardian army inside Elcho Falling, both felt it was highly unlikely either of those forces might assay back out of Elcho Falling in the near future.
Not against the Lealfast.
Everyone within Elcho Falling was well and truly trapped.
Late in the night, a few hours before dawn, Eleanon and Bingaleal were sprawled before a large fire with several other of the most senior Lealfast. They had eaten well, and were getting slightly inebriated on some of the liquor that the Isembaardians had left behind.
The Lealfast rarely drank alcohol, and when they did it did not make them drunk in the same manner as humans or the Icarii. Rather, it gave them a sense akin to sexual arousal — a mildly erotic sensation that tingled up and down their nerves and left thick trails of frost over their bodies.
Eleanon was feeling very mellow, pleased with himself and the situation. He and Bingaleal had told their fellows — Falayal, Sonorai and Kalanute — what had transpired since last they met, and Sonorai had told them what news the Nation had, as well.
“Have you heard from the One?” Falayal asked Eleanon and Bingaleal.
Both birdmen narrowed their eyes, then Eleanon spoke. “No. He remains quiet . . . lest he be discovered, I suppose.”
“What should we do?” Kalanute said, his words very slightly thickened with alcohol-induced arousal.
“As we always planned,” Eleanon said. “Within Elcho Falling rests the Dark Spire.” He held out his hands, and for a moment an image of the crazed twisted form of the Dark Spire appeared between them. “We can use it to destroy the citadel — if we wish — or to take it for ourselves . . . and the One, of course. The spire is growing with the power of Infinity, but under my direction.”
It wasn’t quite what Eleanon had planned for the Dark Spire, but it was enough for his fellows. He could take them further into his confidence later.
“And when will we be taking Elcho Falling?” Sonorai said. He spoke this with no impatience or ill-will, merely a languid curiosity.
“When we can be utterly certain of victory,” Eleanon said. “We tried once and failed . . . Elcho Falling even rejected the One. The next time we attempt to take the citadel, we must be certain of victory. The One, even now, works his way with the unwitting occupants of Elcho Falling. We will take our time, brothers, but we will succeed.”
“And where is our dear sister, Inardle?” Kalanute asked. “I miss her and this wine,” he made a lewd gesture, “is making me think most ardently of her.”
“Inardle preferred to throw in her lot with the StarMan and Lord of Elcho Falling,” Bingaleal said. “She is lost to us. You must sate your desire on another of our sisters this night, Kalanute.”
Kalanute laughed softly, now stretching a little. “Such a shame, for I particularly desired Inardle. but, as you say, there are others.”
“Then perhaps Inardle is inside Elcho Falling slaking her lust with the StarMan,” Sonorai said.
Eleanon and Bingaleal exchanged a glance and a small smile.
“What?” Sonorai said. “A secret? Share, do!”
“Inardle and Axis may well be slaking their lust somewhere — although personally I think they might still be trembling in too much fear to even think of it — but I can assure you they are not doing it inside Elcho Falling,” Eleanon said.
Falayal, Sonorai and Kalanute all raised their eyebrows.
Eleanon gave a soft laugh. “Axis and Inardle ‘escaped’ Elcho Falling this evening, slipping out under the cloak of Inardle’s power. She thought I could not see through it . . . but I am aided by the power of Infinity, and they were immediately apparent to me. The moment they left Elcho Falling I knew of their presence.”
“You allowed them to escape?” Kalanute said, all amorous thoughts driven from his mind.
“Why not?” Eleanon said. “I am curious as to what they might do . . . although I, as Bingaleal, am certain where they go.”
“And that is .?” Sonorai said.
“To offer their aid to Isaiah,” Bingaleal said. “Isaiah and his army are two weeks or so distant. Isaiah leads them straight for Elcho Falling, believing he can be of some assistance.” He uttered a soft, mocking laugh. “Our ‘allies’, the Skraelings —”everyone smiled derisively“— are with him now, although they seem to be dilly-dallying in some confusion. Isaiah has many things to worry him.”
“We saw the Skraelings on our flight here,” said Falayal. “I have no idea why they don’t attack. They must outnumber the Isembaardians ten to one.”
“They are likely missing the direction of the One,” said Bingaleal, and the others nodded.
The Skraelings would have no idea what to do now that their master had fallen silent.
“I am assuming you will keep Axis and Inardle under observation,” Kalanute said to Eleanon.
“Naturally,” Eleanon replied, and the conversation drifted on to other matters.
Eleanon leaned back against the pile of blankets he was using as a cushion and tuned out the conversation. He was feeling mellow indeed: happy to have the Lealfast Nation here, happy that Axis and Inardle — the fools — had had no idea he was aware of them the entire time (stars, Eleanon did not know how he had not burst out laughing while they were edging around behind his back), and just happy with the entire situation. The One was safe in his hidey hole where he could work the most damage (and yet not interfere with Eleanon’s plans), the Dark Spire still throbbed in the heart of Elcho Falling and all would be well in time.
Then Eleanon’s senses sharpened as he saw a movement at the corner of his eye.
He rose, drawing queries from the others about the fire.
“It is nothing to be worried about,” Eleanon said. “Forgive my absence for an hour or two.”
Then he was gone, skirting the fire as he stared intently at something at the edge of the camp and walking into the night.
Chapter 11
Elcho Falling
Eleanon reached out and caught at Ravenna’s elbow. “My dear,” he said.
She tried, and failed, to pull away from him. “Leave me be.”
“No. You fascinate me.” As indeed she did, although Eleanon was aware that currently his fascination was due more to the effects of the alcohol than anything else.
They were just outside the camp, and Eleanon led Ravenna further into the night, putting distance between them and the Lealfast Nation.
“What do you want?” she said.
“To talk. To investigate a little more deeply this curse Ishbel has cast on you. If I know how it works, then I understand Ishbel a little better.”
What he wanted, of course, was to alter it slightly, turn it to his own use.
“I want to go.”
“Nonetheless you keep trailing about Elcho Falling, drawn to it like a moth to the fire. Or is it Maximilian you lust for? He has gone now, I believe. I have heard that he and his lovely, lovely wife have been up to some mischief at DarkGlass Mountain.”
Eleanon turned Ravenna so that she faced him, and took both her shoulders in his hands. “You yearn for Elcho Falling, yet your curse keeps you distant from everyone. How is the baby, Ravenna?”
She blinked, confused by the sudden change of subject and made anxious by the pressure of his hands on her shoulders.
“I . . . I am not sure,” she said. “I suppose he is well enough.”
“Not sure? Truly? This is your child, the heir to Elcho Falling! And you are not sure?”
“Ishbel made it that he is no longer heir to —”
“Ah, but this is still Maximilian’s child, yes? Of course. Then this baby still has some connection to him and his pretty citadel. Besides, what can be wound can also be unwound. It is, after all, what Ishbel specialises in.”