fluttering heart to note something else about young and strong Aydrian though, something that she could not miss in his eyes. A twinge of regret, perhaps? Then the trumpets began to blare, and the thousands of Kingsmen infantry took up their determined march toward the city.
Sadye took up her lute and began to play, a song of battle.
Bishop Braumin watched the approach with a heavy heart. There was no turning back now, no more speeches to give. He had told the people of Palmaris the truth as he had honestly measured it, and they had made their decision to resist this young king. And now the resistance was put right before them.
The soldiers advanced methodically; behind the line, the Allheart Knights, nearly a hundred strong, assembled their ponies in the center of a larger line of cavalry.
A few arrows went out from Palmaris' wall, falling far short of the still-distant force. Bishop Braumin began to call for a halt to the ineffective fire, but changed his mind. They were nervous, he knew.
A few balls of burning pitch soared out from Palmaris' tower catapults, to more effect, but still falling far short of the needed defense to deter such an army as approached.
Braumin turned left and right, scanning the wall. The brothers of St.
Precious who had remained behind had been given specific gemstones and specific tasks in aiding the defense. Braumin had strategically placed them for maximum effect.
To kill as many attackers as possible.
That realization brought with it tremendous guilt and regret, and old Braumin, no stranger to war and conflict, had to work hard to keep the waves of despair away.
The march progressed in orderly fashion, but then the soldiers entered the area close enough for effective fire. Lines of arrows reached out from Palmaris' wall, slashing into the long ranks. The first blood stained the field outside the city that morning, and the first cries of agony rent the air, and tore at Bishop Braumin's heart.
The march broke into a full charge, the Kingsmen roaring out their battle cries and coming on hard. But for all their pomp and presence, for all their glory and military strength, the group that had come to Palmaris was not really prepared to assault a walled city. They had no ladders with them, no ropes with grapnels, no siege towers or battering rams.
They came on, shouting and cheering, and with their armor protecting them, the ranks were hardly thinned when they at last reached the city walls.
But then what? Many spears went up over the walls, and volleys of arrows went at the city's defenders, and many did fall.
But with the support of the magic-wielding monks, the return fire was far more effective, archers leaning over the walls to shoot down into the milling throng.
Kingsmen herded about the strong and fortified city gates, trying to press them open, to no avail! The Allheart charge came on then, and was nothing short of spectacular, the thunder of hooves shaking the ground.
And Braumin's gemstone-wielding monks replied with a barrage of lightning and fire, concentrating on the area about the gates, jolting the soldiers about.
One monk leaped out from the wall, calling the name of Avelyn, and as he landed amidst the throng, he released the power of his gemstone, a ruby, and blasted a fireball in the midst of the attackers, consuming himself and them.
Flaming men ran out of that conflagration, waving their arms and screaming pitifully.
Bishop Braumin turned away and blinked hard against his tears.
From across the field, Aydrian watched the events with growing trepidation. His conscience assailed him, demanding of him that he stop this battle, this march, this war - demanding of him that he find a way of peace.
They are the cattle! Screamed a voice in his head, so suddenly, the same voice that had guided him across the Mirianic to Pimaninicuit to retrieve the gemstones, the same voice that had led his way across Yorkey County to Ursal, the same voice that had shown him the way to destroy King Danube. It was the voice from the mirror, the voice of Oracle, the voice that had shown him the lie of Dasslerond and the promise of his inner strength. They stand before you because they fear you, it told him. They deny the truth of you because they fear the lie that is their ridiculous faith! Aydrian unwittingly argued with that voice, feeling as if he was a second shadow in the same mirror, like one of the two blurry