As the walls neared completion, Leppoe added yet another refinement. Planks were laid and cunningly fitted to create ramparts, while the outer walls were smeared with mortar and smoothed, making it more difficult for an enemy to scale them.
Leppoe had two of Lake’s giant bows placed near the centre of each wall; these were tested for range and spread by Lake himself and the twelve men he had trained to handle them. Sacks of lead shot for slings were placed by the weapons, along with several thousand arrows.
‘It all looks strong enough,’ Thorn told Ananais. ‘But Dros Delnoch it is not!’
Ananais strode along the ramparts of Madagon, gauging the possible lines of attack. The walls negated Ceska’s cavalry, but the Joinings would have no trouble in scaling them. Leppoe had worked miracles getting them up to fifteen feet in height, but it was not enough. Lake’s weapons would create havoc to within thirty feet of the walls, but nearer than that they would be useless.
Ananais sent Thorn to ride the two miles across the valley to Tarsk. Then he despatched two other men to run the same distance. It took Thorn less than five minutes to make the journey, while the runners took almost twelve.
The general’s problem was a tough one. Ceska was likely to strike at both valleys simultaneously and if one was overrun, the second was doomed. Therefore a third force had to be held in check somewhere between the two, ready to move the instant a breach looked likely. But walls could be breached in seconds and they didn’t have many minutes. Signal fires were useless, since the Skoda range loomed between the valley mouths.
However, Leppoe solved the problem by suggesting a triangular system of communication. By day, mirrors or lanterns could be used to send a message back into the valley, where a group of men would be constantly on the lookout. Once the message was received, the group would relay it back to the second valley in the same way. A force of five hundred men would camp between the valleys and once a signal was received, they would ride like the devil. The system was practised many times, both in daylight and in darkness, until Ananais was convinced it had reached its peak of efficiency. A call for help could be transmitted and a relief force arrive within four minutes. Ananais would have liked to halve the time, but he was content.
Valtaya had moved back into the mountains with Rayvan and taken control of the medical supplies. Ananais missed her terribly; he had a strange feeling of doom which he could not shake off. He was never a man to give a great deal of thought to death; now it plagued him. When Valtaya had said goodbye the previous night, he had felt more wretched than at any time in his life. Taking her in his arms, he had fought to say the words he felt, desperate to let her know the depth of his love for her.
‘I … I will miss you.’
‘It won’t be for long,’ she said, kissing his scarred cheek and averting her eyes from the ruined mouth.
‘You … er … look after yourself.’
‘And you.’
As he helped her to her horse, several other travellers cantered towards the hut and he scrambled to replace his mask. And then she was gone. He watched her until the night swallowed her.
‘I love you,’ he said at last, too late. He tore the mask from his face and bellowed at the top of his voice.
‘I LOVE YOU!’ The words echoed in the mountains as he sank to his knees and hammered the ground with his fist. ‘Damn, damn, damn! I love you!’
18
Tenaka, Subodai and Renya had an hour’s start on the tribesmen, but this was gradually whittled back for, despite the strength of the Drenai mounts, Tenaka’s horse now carried double. At the top of a dusty hill Tenaka shaded his eyes with his hand and tried to count the riders giving chase, but it was not easy for a swirling dust-cloud rose up around them.
‘I would say a dozen, no more,’ said Tenaka at last.