The western side of Dharyan was still in predawn darkness when the charge began, the great ring of Behrenese closing as one on the city. The To-gai-ru responded with typical ferocity and bravery, manning the walls, great bows in hand, showering their attackers with a killing rain. But the Behrenese came on, too many to be denied, rank upon rank throwing themselves wildly against the deadly volleys in the name of Yatol and their beloved Chezru Chieftain.
Rushing through the courtyard to bolster the southern wall, Brynn found Agradeleous, standing in his lizardman form, growling angrily as he looked all about. ?Is this the end?" the dragon asked.
"I know not," Brynn admitted.
"You will die here?"
"If that is my fate. But I will do so with my blade stained with Behrenese blood!" She started away, but the dragon grabbed her by the shoulder and stopped her dead in her tracks.
"And is that enough for you, human? To die here is acceptable because you know that you are right?"
"I'd rather live," Brynn replied with a grin. ?And I pray that we win out, or hold out."
"But if you do not?"
Brynn had no answer, but neither did the possibility shrink her proud shoulders at all.
"I hope you live," Agradeleous said to her, and he let her go, and Brynn stood there for a long while, staring at him, until the cries from the wall told her that a breach was imminent.
She ran off to a ladder, scrambling up to the parapet, to find as many Behrenese in that area as To-gai-ru, and with more enemies scrambling over the wall with each passing moment. Brynn's sword came to fiery life.
"To-gai!" she cried, and pushed past her fellow defenders, driving hard into the forming Behrenese line. Those invaders gave way a bit before that blazing sword, and that single waver was enough for Brynn to gain a breach in the line.
Spearheading a wedge, she pushed through, shouldering one man off the parapet, stabbing a second man in the belly. She retracted the blade and fell forward to her knees, spinning about, an errant Behrenese sword swishing harmlessly over her head.
Flamedancer took that man out at the knees, and then Brynn was at the ladders, and a thrust to a face had another enemy tumbling back out. That falling man clipped the one behind him on the ladder as he tumbled, and as that second man struggled to hold his balance, the drifting ladder moved out from the wall.
Brynn leaped atop that wall and kicked hard, dislodging the ladder altogether.
A line of arrows came at her from below, but she turned quickly and got her pulsating powrie shield up to deflect most of them. One did clip her across the calf, a burning wound.
She shrugged it off and leaped away, driving back another disintegrating line of enemies.
The breach was closed.
Agradeleous watched it all with sincere admiration, understanding more clearly Belli'mar Juravi el's words to him concerning the value of humans.
"I hope you live," he whispered to Brynn, though she certainly could not hear, and then the dragon fell within himself, bringing forth the transforma-tion into his more natural, huge and terrible form.
Over the eastern gate he flew, above the line of ducking and scrambling Behrenese. Only a few got their bows up to offer meager shots.
Gaining speed with every passing foot, the dragon rammed hard into a catapult, scattering the crew and destroying the war engine. His head swung about and his fiery breath immolated a handful of fleeing soldiers.
Then the arrows began, but Agradeleous ignored them and attacked the next catapult, and then the next. He saw one man rushing to organize the defense - a man wearing the armor of a Chezhou-Lei.
Off the dragon swooped, crashing amidst the leader and those about him, accepting the heavy blow from the man's sword and returning it tenfold with a savage claw rake that nearly took the man in half.
Several others fell and Agradeleous leaped back up into the air, his great wings bringing him higher. His attack had stopped the entire charge at that eastern wall, had allowed the defenders within the city to peel away and re-inforce other vulnerable areas, for the Behrenese were turning back upon the wurm, with cries naming the dragon as their primary target. Now the volleys of arrows showering Agradeleous increased, but the dragon roared through it and charged on, destroying another catapult.
A ballista bolt shot past him, then a second, but the dragon pressed on, breathing forth his fire to light both catapult and crew.
His wings brought him up high and he dove immediately, passing low over one group of Behrenese cavalry, unhorsing most as he sped past on his way to another catapult battery. Now the dragon swooped back around and up, hovering for a split second to line up his fiery breath.
Just as one ballista crew had anticipated.
The dragon fire came forth, then stopped abruptly as the huge spear smashed against his side, crushing bone at the base of his wing. With a shriek that deafened those nearby, Agradeleous rolled over in the air, then tumbled down into the sand.
Immediately, the Behrenese soldiers swarmed over him, bows twanging, swords slashing, but the dragon went into a thrashing frenzy, his tail swip-ing out men by the dozen, claws digging and raking, his maw snapping to and fro, biting men in half.
But the dragon was in trouble, and he knew the truth of it. Soon his scrambling had purpose, turning him about, then running him flat out for the wall of Dharyan. He neared and leaped, crashing over the wall and tum-bling hard into the courtyard.
Brynn was on that wall, urging him on, and as soon as the dragon passed over her, she and her batteries of archers drove back the Behrenese pursuit.
"The west gate!" came a frantic cry, and Brynn spun about to hear the screams of anguish and anger, and she knew that the city would be lost, that if the Behrenese got through that western gate, their flood would sweep her and her army from the city.
And she couldn't get there in time.
But down below, her greatest warrior was moving again, clawing and fighting his way along the streets, his blood drawing a red slick behind him.
Agradeleous arrived in the western courtyard just as the gate began to crumble, and the To-gai-ru, seeing his approach, cleared the way.
The gate fell in, and in charged the Behrenese.
Or at least they started to, and then they were dead, melted in dragon fire. There Agradeleous stayed for the remainder of the attack, a living barricade.
Behind him, on the walls, Brynn rushed from spot to spot, bolstering the defenses with her cries of victory and with her deadly sword and bow.
Soon after, the Behrenese line retreated. Dharyan had held through the first day.
There was little revelry within the city, though, for many To-gai-ru lay dead about the walls. Several thousand Behrenese had fallen to less than one thousand To-gai-ru, but in looking at her depleted resources, and in looking at the gravely injured dragon, Brynn could not claim victory that day. They had held, and that was something.
But that was all.
Thanks to the heroics of Agradeleous, the barrage from catapults would be less that night. But several huge fires did erupt, forcing the weary men and women to battle them - all with the knowledge that their enemies would come on again in the morning.
Pagonel and Merwan Ma had little trouble getting into Jacintha, for the city was in seeming turmoil, with people rushing all about, selling and buy-ing all sorts of staple goods. Soldiers marched about all the avenues, school-ing hard the lessons they knew they would soon put into real combat.
"It would seem that Brynn's efforts have been felt far, and to the heart of Behren," Pagonel remarked to Merwan Ma, the mystic still playing the part of the Shepherd's slave.
"Many of the brigades are from visiting districts," Merwan Ma explained ?I have seen the pennant of Yatol De Hamman and Yatol Peridan, Yatol Shie-guvra and - "
"Does that mean that the Yatols have assembled here?"
Merwan Ma nodded. ?That would be the usual reason for their garrisons to be about Jacintha," he explained.
"But who can say in these strange times?"
"Can you find out?"
The Shepherd nodded and moved across the crowded square, to a merchant selling baskets of dates. He bent in and whispered to the man, then nodded, reached into his pouch, and produced a few coins - which Pagonel had given to him out of the loot from one of the conquered cities.
The smiling merchant took the bribe and bent in, whispering to Merwan Ma for a long, long time.
"The Yatols are in Jacintha," the Shepherd reported to Pagonel a few minutes later. ?And they are not pleased by the continuing war. Brynn's ef-forts in hiring the mercenaries and pirates have played into the ancient ri-valries between some of the Yatols, particularly those trading rivals along the coastline. Now the Yatols are angry that so many soldiers have been pulled from the disputed zones in the east and sent along to the west to join in Yatol Bardoh's pursuit of Brynn."
Pagonel nodded, considering the words. He wished he had known of this internal strife before, long before, when there might have been some op-portunity to exploit it further.
"There is word from the west," Merwan Ma went on, his voice going suddenly grim. ?Brynn has conquered Dharyan once more."
Pagonel nodded, knowing what was coming next.
"Yatol Bardoh is even now moving to encircle her and destroy her there," the Shepherd went on. ?Likely the fighting has already begun."
Pagonel took a long moment to digest the information, then took a deep and steadying breath and stared hard at his companion. ?It is irrelevant to our present course." As he finished, the mystic looked across the way, to a large structure, the largest in the city, set upon a hill lined with beautiful gardens and fountains.
"Chom Deiru," Merwan Ma explained, following that stare. ?It will be heavily guarded - it is always heavily guarded, and even more so now, I would guess, with the tension so high."
"But you can get me in," the mystic reasoned.
"To what end?"
"To reveal the truth."
"It is a truth that will get us both killed." Merwan Ma stopped short, see-ing the unblinking stare coming back at him, a reminder to him of all that he had learned of late.
"I will get you in," he said to Pagonel, his voice steady. ?Or I will try."
The mystic nodded, and Merwan Ma led the way across the city, to the base of the hill of Chom Deiru and the first guard house they would have to pass.
They did so, quite easily, for Merwan Ma knew all the passwords through these preliminary checkpoints.
Soon enough the pair were up the hill and moving up the steps of the temple proper, through the great arching doors of Chom Deiru.
A pair of guards inside crossed their spears before the entryway, com-manding them to halt.
"I have come from the west," Merwan Ma said to them, then spoke the usual passwords, ?The setting sun cannot elude the Chezru's eyes."
It was the proper phrase for any returning scout to use, but Merwan Ma noted that one of the guards betrayed his stoic expression for just an in-stance, as if in a flicker of recognition.
"What is your name?" the man asked.
"I am..." the Shepherd paused, feeling suddenly that something was very wrong. He didn't really recognize the guard, but he had the feeling that this one had known him from his time as Douan's assistant.
"My pardon, Governor Pestle," Pagonel said behind him, and he began bowing repeatedly. ?I should have been more prompt in arranging for your formal announcement."
The two guards looked to each other, and then one retreated behind the door.
A long moment passed, the silence growing more and more uncomfort-able. Finally, the door cracked open and the guard poked his head out, whispering to his companion.
"Welcome to Chom Deiru, Governor Carwan Pestle," the other guard said as his companion disappeared behind the door once more. ?You will be announced to the Chezru Chieftain at your convenience." As he fin-ished, he stepped aside and pulled open the door, motioning for the two men to enter.
Merwan Ma should have been dead the moment he stepped through, and would have been, had not Pagonel's finely honed reflexes launched the mystic at the back of Merwan Ma's legs, laying him low, and making the stab of the other guard's long spear miss the mark.
Pagonel was up in an instant, spinning to face the spearman. He dropped his shoulder and leaped ahead, spinning diagonally down low. Then, as he came around and set his feet, he leaped up high, over the poor attempt to reorient the unwieldy weapon. He snapped his foot into the guard's face.
The man fell away with a grunt.
Pagonel landed lightly, turning sharply about to see the guard from out-side charging in at Merwan Ma's back, and with the stunned Shepherd only then even pulling himself from the floor, facing away from the thrusting spear.
Out went the spear tip, but in the flash of the mystic's well-aimed, stiff-ened hand, the weapon was no more, chopped in half.
Pagonel grabbed the broken shaft of the weapon in his left hand, stepped in against it, and swung around backward, his right elbow lifting high to smash the man in the face. The guard dropped like a stone, but stubbornly tried to rise.
Pagonel's stiffened fingers smashed his throat, and he went down and stayed down.
The mystic was moving even as the man hit the ground, running past Merwan Ma and sweeping him up in his wake. Noise echoed from both side corridors, likely other guards rushing to see what the commotion was all about.
"Where do we run?" the mystic asked.
Merwan Ma's horrified expression told him much. ?I must get to the Room of Forever," the Shepherd explained. ?But the way is long and the shouts of the pursuit will bring many guards out before us!"
The mystic stopped and looked all around at the great corridors and huge pillars. ?Which way to the Room of Forever?"
Merwan Ma looked across the anteroom and through the large hall be-hind it, motioning toward some distant stairs. ?Up there, and along many hallways."
Pagonel retrieved the remaining spear from the fallen guard, and smashed the man again as he began to stir once more. ?Go. I will keep the guards occupied."
Merwan Ma spent a long moment studying the mystic, then put his hand on Pagonel's shoulder. ?There is much I wish to say to you," he began tentatively.
Pagonel stopped him with an upraised hand. ?We will find the time to talk," he said with a smile, though neither he nor Merwan Ma expected that they would ever speak again.
The mystic ran off then, into the larger hall and to the right, and when a guard yelled out upon sighting him, he launched the spear, far and true, into the man's chest.
Merwan Ma faded back against the wall behind a pillar as the commotion grew, as more and more guards and servants rushed all about. The whole commotion moved down to his right and the shepherd started off to the left, hugging the wall of the larger room until he made the stairs. Then he fell back into the shadows again, as a group of guards, including a Chezhou-Lei warrior, rushed down the stairs and right past him, giving chase to the now distant shouts of an intruder.
Up went the Shepherd, and he breathed a sigh of relief when he crossed out of the stairway and into the hallways of the palace's second floor. He ran along, then down corridors so familiar and yet strangely out of place, past rooms that had once been his home, but now seemed foreign and uncomfortable.
Pagonel ran on, one step ahead of his pursuit - and well aware that the pursuit was growing with each passing corridor. He turned down one arched corridor, rushing right past a pair of surprised guards.
They yelled and took up the chase, but Pagonel surprised them again by stopping short and spinning about, leaping their leading spears and double-kicking, left and right, laying them both low.
Another guard came in right behind, swinging a huge curved sword. The mystic caught his wrist and pulled it aside, stepped in close, and hit him with three short but devastating chops to the chest. The man gasped repeat-edly and started to fall, but Pagonel grabbed him by the tunic and pulled him back up, then threw him hard to the ground, right before a pair of charging soldiers. They didn't trip, but the tumbling man held them up and stole their attention.
Long enough for the mystic to come in high and hard, above their swords, kicking and punching.
As they fell away, Pagonel didn't move in, but turned and ran along the grand-arched corridor. A large group was close to him, he realized, and when he turned back to note them, he picked out a Chezhou-Lei warrior among their ranks. The mystic put his head down and ran on, knowing that he couldn't turn and confront this group. A Chezhou-Lei was enough of a problem all by himself, but with several guards on his side, the fight would not fall the mystic's way!
The hallway bent in a wide arc, and the mystic came to guess that he was circling a large room. The pursuit remained dogged, and close, and now others were coming out from side corridors off to Pagonel's left as he con-tinued to circle around to the right. He was running out of room, and he knew it. The only corridors down which he could turn were to the left, and those seemed full of enemies.
Pagonel stopped and turned to face the wall, putting his fingers against it, feeling the grains within the stone.
Then he fell within himself, ignoring the shouts closing in behind, and more shouts coming from the left. The mystic found his Chi and lifted it high, and then ran along with it, spider-crawling up the wall. As he neared the top, with some oblivious guards run-ning past beneath him, the mystic heard much arguing and talking from within the huge circular room.
Before he could even consider that, though, a cry from below told him that he had been spotted. He moved along more quickly, now thirty feet from the floor.
An arrow skipped past him.
"More bows!" came the shout from the Chezhou-Lei. ?Shoot the pest from the wall."
Pagonel glanced down, and considered dropping upon them, perhaps killing the Chezhou-Lei, at least, before they slaughtered him. But to what end? he realized. Was he going to kill for spite, or out of anger?
That was not the way of the Jhesta Tu. Truly there was nothing for Pagonel to gain by dropping on the Behrenese at that point, not for him and not for Merwan Ma, and not for the cause of Brynn Dharielle and To-gai.
"Your Chezru Chieftain is a fraud," he yelled down. ?He possesses an Abellican soul stone, and uses it!"
His answer came in the form of an arrow, driving deep into his calf and nearly dislodging him.
With a grunt, the mystic climbed higher, nearing the ceiling, and only then did he realize that the wall upon which he was perched was not solid, floor to ceiling, but had an alcove at the top. And in the rear of that ledge area, the mystic found a grate, overlooking a wide circular chamber, full of rows of seats, and full of arguing Yatols!
His respite there wouldn't last long, he knew, for the alcove wasn't deep, and all the archers had to do was step back across the hall to spot him.
Dismissing the unsettling thought out of hand, Pagonel gripped the bars of the grate and focused his life energy into his hands. His palms grew hot - hotter than they had when he had used his healing techniques on Brynn and Merwan Ma.
He dove deeper into the energy, forcing it to his fingers, heating them even more. He didn't contain the energy there, though - to do so would have melted his hands! - but rather, let it flow out of his digits and into the metal of the bars, heating them and softening them.
Ignoring the uncomfortable heat, Pagonel began to pull with all his strength.
An arrow soared into the alcove, deflecting off the ceiling to bounce hard against the mystic. But it didn't disrupt Pagonel's concentration. With the metal practically glowing under his mystical touch, the man pulled the two bars of the grate apart, bit by bit, until they were wide enough for him to slip through.
He squirmed onto the ledge in the huge audience hall, then moved to the lip, marking the gathering below him, figuring out at once that it was Yakim Douan himself who was addressing the Yatols from a dais across the way, in front of a long and sweeping, ascending stairway. The chairs were all before him, set in a semicircular pattern: a thousand chairs, though only those at the very front were occupied.
Pagonel studied the room for a moment, but knew he didn't have much time, for below, the Chezhou-Lei was yelling for the guards to enter the au-dience hall and protect the Chezru Chieftain.
Pagonel rolled to the lip and leaped off, dropping the thirty feet to the floor and landing easily in a shock-absorbing roll. All heads turned his way, and a group of guards, standing behind the dais that held Yakim Douan, rushed to the front of their beloved Chezru Chieftain, forming a line before him.
"Jhesta Tu!" one of the nearby Yatols yelled, and all of the others began to shrink away from Pagonel, whispering excitedly.
"What is the meaning of this intrusion?" Yakim Douan yelled. ?Who are you to violate this sacred place?"
"I am Pagonel of the Walk of Clouds, Chezru Chieftain Douan," the mystic answered with a bow. ?I am he who knows the truth of Yakim Douan! I am he who knows the truth of Transcendence!"
No one in the place missed the wide-eyed look of surprise and horror that came over Yakim Douan at that moment, but before anyone could be-gin to question it, the great doors of the audience chamber burst open and a group of soldiers charged into the chamber, bearing down immediately on Pagonel.
"I have seen you at use with your soul stone, Yakim Douan!" the mystic cried.
"He is a fool and a liar!" yelled the Chezru Chieftain. ?Kill him at once!"
Pagonel dodged a thrown spear, then another, then fell into a roll to move to the side of a trio of warriors charging in at him. He came up and kicked back the other way, tripping one up, but had to fall back farther and couldn't finish the move as the other two bore in. The mystic ran behind the chairs and leaped atop the back of one, then ran along, chair back to chair back, so balanced that none even began to tip.
He ducked instinctively; an arrow cut the air above him. He ducked again, and then again, altering his run as the guards began to herd him, al-ways seeming to be between him and the Chezru Chieftain. He knew that it couldn't last for long, and knew that he couldn't get anywhere near the man, so he stopped suddenly, still standing atop one chair-back, and yelled out, ?You have spirit-walked, Yakim Douan. That is how you found the Dragon of To-gai! Each night you go out and seek her - and you cannot go out without a gemst - He stopped suddenly as an arrow bored into his side. Then he got hit again, in the hip. He tried to leap away, tried to hold his focus, but he got hit again, the missile creasing his shoulder, and then he was falling, smash-ing through a bunch of chairs.
"Finish him!" he heard Yakim Douan yell, and it seemed to him sud-denly as if the Chezru Chieftain was far, far away.
Blood ran from a dozen wounds and one of her eyes was closed from where a mace had slipped off her powrie shield and clipped her, but Brynn showed no signs of slowing as she ran along the wall, rousing her allies with cries for a free To-gai, and with her magnificent swordplay, with enemy af-ter enemy falling to her flaming blade. So great was her reputation growing as she moved along the wall that the Behrenese shrank back from her wher-ever she appeared, with some even going back over the wall, outside of the city. That only made her furious charge even more effective, of course.
Down along the avenues, Agradeleous moved from gate to gate and wall to wall, bolstering the defenses with blasts of killing flame. At one point, the eastern wall was breached, with hundreds of Behrenese warriors swarming in, many heading to throw wide the gates so that their cavalry could over-run the courtyard.
Agradeleous alone stopped that attack, wading through lines of soldiers, taking and accepting punishing hits with the single-minded purpose of de-stroying those who meant to open the gates.
The gate held, and those Behrenese who had come over the wall were soon cut off, as Brynn solidified the defenses on the parapets and the dragon turned upon them along the streets.
All that day, the Behrenese came on and were pushed back, and when it ended, thousands more lay dead.
But so did scores of To-gai-ru, and as the ring about Dharyan settled once more, Brynn was again hard-pressed to consider the event any kind of a victory.
Even worse, that same night, another garrison arrived from Tacintha, five thousand more warriors to replace the fallen.
Brynn could not look to the west for similar help, she knew.
The mystic lay on the floor, knowing that each passing second brought his enemies in closer. He reached into his life force, finding that line of power between his forehead and crotch, the center of his energy, his Chi.
Then he blanked away the many pains, put them outside of his consciousness.
He heard the soldiers, two at least, standing over him, bending to fin-ish him.
With a sudden burst of sheer power, the mystic swung over and sprang up, soaring into the air between his attackers, seeing three and not two.
He kicked out ahead, then left and right, landed lightly and sprang up again, lifting into the air before the one man who still stood there and the second, who was staggering but not down.
A kick left and right again had them both down, and Pagonel landed in perfect balance on the back of the nearest upright chair and began his run anew.
Another arrow clipped him, but he held his course stubbornly, working his way around the now-sheltered crowd of amazed Yatols.
"You must hear my words!" Pagonel shouted. ?For your own sake and not my own! The Chezru Chieftain possesses a soul stone, an Abellican hematite! He lies of his course and of Transcendence, which is no more than - "
He stopped suddenly as a Chezhou-Lei warrior popped up before him and smashed him hard in the gut with the end of a thick staff.
"Transcendence is possession of an infant," the mystic cried, falling away as he got smashed again, and then again as he lay helpless on the ground.
He felt hands grabbing him by the arms a few moments later, but could of-fer no more resistance as they stood him upright. He tried to talk again, and his efforts got him slugged hard in the stomach, and then across the face.
"Behold!" he heard the Chezru Chieftain yell. ?We have before us the killer of Chezhou-Lei Dahmed Blie!"
"What of his words, God-Voice?" came a cry that sounded somewhat accusatory.
"The heathens have no other answer to the visions of Yatol!" Douan shouted immediately. ?They seek to destroy us from the inside, since their feeble attempts to destroy us otherwise have miserably failed! And now this one is dead, and they have lost their ties to the Jhesta Tu. Yet another blow to the army of the pitiful Dragon of To-gai!"
Pagonel Wad no strength to argue as the cheers went up about Yakim Douan, so he fell within himself, trying again to gather his life energy, trying merely to keep some bit of consciousness.
He did hear the Chezhou-Lei warrior ask Yakim Douan if the prisoner should be hung publicly, or burned, and was not surprised when the Chezru Chieftain told his warrior to finish Pagonel then and there.
And the mystic couldn't begin to stop the blow. He tried to open his eyes, wanting to look into the eyes of the man who would end his life.
"Wait!" came a cry from somewhere in the back. ?Hold your weapons and your judgment!"
Pagonel did open his eyes then, to see Merwan Ma rushing down the long stairway behind Yakim Douan, a magnificently decorated chalice in his hand.
Yakim Douan worked very hard to keep his expression stoic as he watched the traitorous Shepherd rush down the stairs, bearing the damning chalice.
It took him a moment to steady himself, to try to play through this potential disaster - and in that moment, Merwan Ma was not silent.
"He hides the stone - he has hidden the stone for centuries!" He reached into the bloody chalice and pulled forth the gemstone, then tossed the cere-monial cup aside. ?In here!"
Gasps arose all around him, but Yakim Douan held his calm and motioned to the side, to a bank of archers.
"It is all a lie!" Merwan Ma cried. ?Transcendence is a trick and no mira-cle." He ended with the air blasted from his lungs, as arrow after arrow bored into him.
He was sitting then, though he knew not how, and knew not why, whis-pering, ?A lie," over and over again, And then Yakim Douan was there before him, reaching down.
"God-Voice," the confused and dying man gasped.
Douan pulled the hematite from him and walked away.
"How clever!" the Chezru Chieftain shouted. ?Look at the conspiracy that our enemies have created about us!
Give them credit, my friends."
"Was that not Merwan Ma, your former attendant?" asked one of the vis-iting Yatols.
"It was," answered Mado Wadon, who had served beside Merwan Ma for so many years.
"Obviously fallen traitor to us for the cause of our enemies," said Douan.
"But he was murdered, in Dharyan!" cried another.
Yakim Douan held his smile and held his calm. This one wasn't going to be easy to wriggle out of, he realized, but he knew that delay was on his side. Soon enough, reports of the fall of the Dragon of To-gai would flood in, and his people would be more receptive to whatever explanation he offered.
"It is a puzzling riddle," he said. ?But one that we will unravel, I assure you."
"And what of the stone?" asked Mado Wadon.
Yakim Douan fixed the man, the Yatol who would obviously succeed him if not for Transcendence, with a hateful glower. ?It is a gemstone, a hematite, I believe."
"What the Abellicans call a soul stone," another offered, suspicion evi-dent in his voice.
"Why, of course," said Douan. ?Else their little ploy would have been for naught. I will summon Master Mackaront of Entel in the morning and pre-sent it to him."
It pained Pagonel greatly to see Merwan Ma slump down on the stairs, so perfectly still that the mystic knew that his friend had died.
The warriors holding him had relaxed their grip as they, along with the Chezhou-Lei who was supposed to deliver the killing blow, stood and stared dumbfounded at the surprising events about them.
Pagonel weighed the reaction as much as he could. He heard the buzzing of the Yatols, recognized the doubt in their words and whispers, but he heard too the continuing assurances of Yakim Douan in a debate that was now one-sided.
He and Merwan Ma had done exactly as they had intended, though, and for that, he was grateful. They had planted the seeds of doubt, and perhaps those would take root and grow, ending the reign of the tyrant Douan.
Pagonel had only one more thing to do.
He fell into himself again, gathering his energy, bringing every ounce of life force he could muster together in one collected ball, preparing for one burst.
He reached out tentatively, hoping that the Chezhou-Lei would continue to delay, would give him the moment he needed.
Then he felt the connection to the hematite held by Yakim Douan.
"I do give credit to our enemies for their clever ruse," Douan was saying, laughing.
Pagonel grabbed his life energy together. He opened his eyes and with a sudden burst of movement, ran his arms in circles, then out, dislodging the two men holding him and shoving them aside.
The Chezhou-Lei warrior moved immediately, but so did the mystic, gathering his energy, then throwing his arms forward and sending that ball of power out across the way, reaching for the hematite, diving into its depths, flooding it with the pure power of Chi. Long Ago, the Jhesta Tu had learned the secrets of the gemstones, had come to know that the energy contained within the stones and was the same basic energy as within their own Chi, the same energy that permeated all of the universe. The strength of any gemstone depended upon the amount of energy contained within, and the amount that any gemstone could hold was a finite thing.
Spent, Pagonel was already Hiring as the Chezhou-Lei's staff whipped around, smashing him to the ground.
Across the way, the hematite blew apart, shards spraying back into sur-prised Yakim Douan, hurling him to the floor.
Cries erupted for the death of the mystic, but before the Chezhou-Lei could follow that course, Mado Wadon yelled at him to hold his strike and to drag the prisoner away to the dungeons.
Other guards were ordered to bear the wounded Douan away, as well, to a comfortable bed. The Chezru Chieftain, semi-conscious, resisted them at first, scrambling desperately to find some piece of his precious soul stone, some chunk of the enchanted gem that would allow him access.
"God-Voice?" came a simple question, and he looked up to see Mado Wadon and several others, including Yatol De Hamman, staring down at him incredulously.
"It may explode again," he said unconvincingly.
"Yes, God-Voice," said Mado Wadon. ?Go with the soldiers now. You are wounded, and we must ensure that Chom Deiru is now secure."
Yakim Douan nodded repeatedly, trying to sort through it all, trying to find some line of deception that he might follow to minimize the risk. And of course, he had to discern a way he could gather another soul stone. Olin would help him. Yes, and he could keep it secret through the next couple of years until things settled, until he had reestablished himself enough to chance Transcendence once more.
Of course, none of this would make any difference at all in forty or fifty years, when all the witnesses would be dead and buried, and Merwan Ma's name would be long forgotten!
That fool Merwan Ma!
Soon after, the God-Voice of Behren was resting comfortably in a bed in Chom Deiru, guards securing his door. His wounds were not nearly as seri-ous as feared, only minor cuts and bruises, and the first Yatols who had come in to see him had expressed great regret that such evil conspirators as Merwan Ma and the Jhesta Tu had ever gotten into the palace.
"Where is the Jhesta Tu?" Douan asked Mado Wadon.
"He is dead, God-Voice," the Yatol replied. ?As you commanded, though it would have given us all great pleasure to see him burned publicly before the palace."
"Too dangerous," Douan said.
"Of course, God-Voice," Mado Wadon replied with a bow. ?Rest now. The first reports of the battle at Dharyan are coming in."
"The Dragon has fallen?" Douan asked, coming forward excitedly.
"Not yet, God-Voice," the Yatol replied. ?But soon. She has nowhere left to run."
Yakim Douan rested back, comfortable in those thoughts.
For the third time, they attacked, and for the third time, they were repelled.
"You cannot continue to throw our warriors against the walls," an angry Chezhou-Lei Shauntil dared to say to fuming Yatol Bardoh after that third retreat.
"Dharyan should have fallen long ago!" the Yatol declared.
"Agreed, but the city is fortified by the fires of a great dragon," Shauntil reminded. ?And we must never underestimate the strength of this woman. She is possessed of demons, my warriors say, and every breach is met with her fiery sword."
Yatol Bardoh clenched his fist and slammed it down on the small table before him, knocking it to the floor. ?I will have the city!" He looked up at Shauntil. ?You deliver Dharyan to me, and soon!"
"If we continue to attack, and continue to be chased away, leaving hundreds dead behind us, you will find your ranks thinning by more than the dead, Yatol," the Chezhou-Lei honestly reported.
"Are we to abandon Dharyan?" came the incredulous response.
"We can resupply. With her dragon downed - and it is downed, by all reports - she cannot."
Yatol Bardoh's expression went from anger to curiosity. ?What are you saying?"
"Besiege her," said Shauntil. ?She cannot hope to break out. Without the walls and fortifications, her army would be crushed in short order. Besiege her. Let the Ru eat their horses!"
Yatol Bardoh gave a perfectly awful chuckle. ?They would not like that."
"Besiege her, that is my advice," Shauntil said again. ?Demand her un-conditional surrender, then hang the witch and her commanders, destroy the dragon, and send the rest back to the steppes."
Yatol Bardoh looked at the man doubtfully. ?Or we say that is the condi-tion of the acceptance of surrender,"
the scheming man remarked. ?And then, when she is dead and the dragon is destroyed, we put the remaining Ru on the road to the west. And there we kill them, every one."
Shauntil, an honorable warrior, didn't particularly like that plan, but nei-ther did he question it. ?I will see that the defenses are set to ward against any breakout," he assured his master. ?I will have the catapults rebuilt, that our bombardment may begin anew."
"Every bit of their misery pleases me greatly," was the Yatol's response.
A lone rider approached Dharyan's eastern gate soon after, declaring the city besieged, and calling for the unconditional surrender of the Dragon of To-gai.
Every To-gai-ru near to Brynn when she heard that call spat profanities back at the man, patting their brave lead?n the shoulder and assuring her that they would die to the man and woman before they would ever allow her to surrender.
Brynn appreciated the support, truly, but she understood the reality of their grim situation. She looked around, wondering how long that support would hold, wondering how strong would be the determination when bel-lies began to growl with hunger.
Yatol Peridan, wearing a suspicious expression, met Yatol Mado Wadon coming out of the dungeon stairwell.
"You told the Chezru Chieftain that the Jhesta Tu was dead," said Peridan.
"And so he is."
"You just came from him. What deception..."
"You did not find his claims intriguing?"
Peridan stopped as if slapped, and nodded his concession. ?The Chezru Chieftain explains it as a ruse, a clever one at that."
"My uncle was a Yatol, here in Jacintha, many years ago," said Mado Wadon. ?Often did he tell me of the miracle of Transcendence, of the amaz-ing blessed child who could recite so clearly the verses of Yatol's teachings who seemed to know, so instinctively, the present state of the kingdom." He fixed Peridan with a telling stare. ?As if with the wisdom of the ages."
Peridan sank back.
"More Yatols have come in?" Mado Wadon asked.
"As you requested," said Peridan.
The Yatol of Chom Deiru nodded.
Later the next day, Mado Wadon met with the visiting Yatols, laying bare his suspicions and reminding them that none of this made any sense along any other lines of reasoning, especially with the cries of Merwan Ma.
The man had been appointed governor of Dharyan, after all, and had been sub-sequently reported murdered by a To-gai-ru slave. With so much glory and honor lauded upon him, how or why would he ever go over to an obviously losing side?
Mado Wadon had spoken with Pagonel that morning, had heard the story, one that made much more logical sense, in depth.
After the brief meeting, Mado Wadon led all of those visiting Yatols, twenty-three in number, into the bedchamber where Yakim Douan was fast recovering.
"The Dragon?" Douan asked immediately.
"Yatol Bardoh continues his battle," Yatol De Hamman replied from the side.
"I have brought the chalice, God-Voice," Mado Wadon explained. ?The interruption of ceremony is unprecedented, but we believe that all can be put in order."
"That is good," said Douan. ?Thoroughly cleanse the chalice, that the stains of the Abellican gemstone placed within by the treacherous Merwan Ma be washed away."
"Of course, God-Voice. It has already been done."
"Consult the scholars, then, and determine the proper rituals for renew-ing the once-tainted chalice."
"Yes, God-Voice," said Mado Wadon, perfectly calm and in control. ?But that is why we have come to you."
Yakim Douan looked at him curiously.
"Were you not the one who initiated the ceremony of the chalice in the Room of Forever?"
Yakim Douan returned a puzzled look, but one that fast turned grave. ?What foolishness is this?" he asked, catching on. ?The ceremony was deter-mined centuries ago..." He stopped then, his eyes going wide as Mado Wadon produced the other part of the ritual gear, a sharp, ceremonial knife.
"What foolishness is this?" the God-Voice asked again, though he knew from the Yatol's face what treachery was coming.
"Wait! Wait!" he pleaded. ?This is insanity! I have found the true way of Yatol! I can show you eternal life!"
"Through a gemstone?" Mado Wadon asked, pausing.
"Yes!"
Mado Wadon stepped forward and plunged the knife into Yakim Douan's chest, then stepped back and calmly handed it to the next Yatol in line. And so it went, around the gathering, until all twenty-three had taken their stab at the old wretch.
Yakim Douan lay there for a long time, stubbornly clinging to life.
"There is no gemstone, God-Voice. Nothing through which your spirit can flee this fate," Mado Wadon said to him, leaning in so that his face might be the last thing Yakim Douan ever saw.
"Sacrilege," Douan whispered.
"Perhaps it is," Mado Wadon answered. ?We will await the coming of the blessed child to tell us of our folly."
Yakim Douan tried to answer, but he could not. Consciousness left him soon after, as his blood continued to pool about him.
The Yatols filed out solemnly later on, with Mado Wadon ordering the guards to go and ring the bells of Chom Deiru, the Cadence of Grief.
