Castle Perilous by John Dechancie Page B

the color of fresh-cut timber; they had not blackened. Stranger still, no smoke came from the fires at all. The flames seemed to dance on the surface of the wood, furiously trying to penetrate but unable to.
    â€œSoon the men will overcome their shock. The battle will then proceed. They need you now, Vorn.”
    She traced a quick pattern in the air and spoke a word under her breath.
    â€œThere. They will hear you now. Speak to them.”
    Color returning to his face, Vorn mounted the battlement and faced his troops.
    â€œSoldiers of the Emp — ” He stopped, tongue-tied by hearing his voice boom out louder than the thunder. Heads snapped in his direction. Arms raised, pointing.
    Vorn spoke. “Soldiers of the Empire! We have faced the Devil’s minions and have fought bravely. Now we have come through hellfire itself unscathed.” He paused. “Can any man doubt that our cause is just and holy? Can any gainsay our righteousness? Behold the fortress of Evil itself. It looms before us in all its malevolence. Let no man fear it. We have come to vanquish it, and vanquish it we shall, though all its forces be arrayed against us. Return to your stations. Fight on, bravely, as you have up till now. The Goddess is with us, her blessings are upon us, and her victory will be ours.”
    He withdrew his sword and raised it high.
    â€œFight on, for Goddess and Empire! Fight! ”
    A great shout rose up from the troops. They all saluted, then picked up their weapons and ran to the belfries.
    Vorn sheathed his sword, looking up at the line of crucibles stilt hanging above. Now empty, they were beginning to fade.
    He jumped from the battlement. Melydia waved her hand to abrogate the voice amplification spell.
    â€œWhy?” he asked her. “Why did you not tell what was to happen? Why did you not warn of this, so that we would know what to expect?”
    â€œBecause I did not know what to expect. The spell I cast over each soldier and each of the belfries was general in nature, a protection against whatever form Incarnadine’s magic would take. I could not predict the form, though of late I have dreamt of fire. But I have dreamt of other things too. I cannot see the future. That is not a power of mine. Would that it were. No, the spell was general, which was why it was so difficult to effect. Neither was I sure that it would work. But it did, as you can see.”
    Vorn watched his men remount the belfries. The flames were weaker now, and had turned dull red.
    Melydia had turned her gaze up to the keep.
    â€œHe holds back,” she said. “Still he does not tap his deepest source of power.” Her voice was a murmur. “Perhaps he is afraid. Afraid of me. Of himself. Afraid . . .”
    She swayed, put her palm to her forehead.
    â€œThe spell of stamina. It is almost gone . . . . Vorn, I — ”
    He caught her as she fell, and picked her up. She lay across his arms like a limp doll.
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    The pattern, its arcane geometries defying the eye with their complexity, was fading. At the height of the spell it had glowed blue-white and had emitted great heat, so much that Incarnadine could barely approach it to complete the last lines. Now it had reverted to dull red, its power quickly ebbing. Incarnadine stepped up to it again and traced across it the Stroke of Cancellation.
    With a hiss like molten metal quenched in water, the pattern disappeared.
    Shed of his cloak, his undertunic untied and open across his chest, dripping with sweat, Incarnadine came to the rail.
    He saw, and he understood.
    He grew aware that Tyrene still awaited his orders. He turned.
    Tyrene began, “My lord — ”
    â€œThe castle has fallen,” Incarnadine told him. “Not yet, but soon. You will withdraw your men to the keep, fighting only those rearguard actions necessary to protect lives.”
    Tyrene was appalled. “My lord!”
    â€œHear me. Once in the keep, you will offer