Adept (The Essence Gate War, Book 1) - By Michael Arnquist Page 0,121
in numbers and attacking human outposts in a blind rage.”
The commander drew his mount to a halt, and his men fanned out to form a line behind him.
Amric jerked his chin toward the eastern gate. “You have a good start on fortifications. You might consider soaking the spikes or sheathing them in iron so that the burning oil does not destroy them too quickly. Also, if you mount enough torches and spikes high along the archway wall and angle your rows of ground spikes more to funnel the varkhuls toward a center path, their own numbers will inhibit them and your archers can concentrate all their fire there. The same trick might work with torches projecting from the wall crenellations to direct the focus of the varkhuls, so that your men need not spread too thin up there.”
The commander stared at him. “Who are you?” he asked.
“I am Amric, a warmaster of the Sil’ath,” the warrior replied. “I and my party have just traversed the full length of the eastern road. When we left the city days ago, we saw scattered tracks around the abandoned farms. Today, I doubt you could enter any building out there without encountering them. They are moving in droves at night, spreading from the forest.”
The commander cleared his throat, and gave a solemn nod. “I am Captain Borric, commander of the Keldrin’s Landing city guard. You bear grim news, Amric, but I thank you for every scrap of it. At least we are forewarned.” He ran an appraising look over the warriors. “When the next attack comes, I could use every available sword in defending this city. If it is gold you are after, the wealthy here may prefer to finance their own private armies, but they are finding sudden cause to contribute more generously to funding the public defense.”
Amric laughed. “If the attack comes tonight, Captain, rest assured that we will join in the defense of the city. At the moment, however, I am after the first hot meal we have had in almost a week. And if I do not wash away all this grime soon, I may be mistaken for a shambler myself.”
Borric chuckled and waved him away. “Be on your way then, Amric, and fare you well.”
“You as well, Captain,” Amric said, wheeling his mount about. He and Valkarr rode back to the others as the sounds followed them of Borric shouting new orders to his men. The party wended its way around to the northern gate as the sun sank behind the eastern horizon.
The massive fortress of Stronghold leered down, as lifeless and empty as a grinning skull, upon the forest crowded around it. The setting sun was impaling itself upon the towering, primordial trees to the east, bathing one side of the mountain structure in deepest crimson even as the other side blackened into shadow. The place was silent, like dust settling in a crypt, and yet a distant, steady power still pulsed and thrummed somewhere far beneath its broken core.
In the sprawling courtyard within the innermost defensive wall, before the titanic main doors of the fortress, the evening air began to crackle. Light gathered there, a multitude of swirling motes drawing together to form a wavering, brilliant weal against the deepening gloom. The rift parted, torn open with a hiss, and the man in black robes stepped through. He cast a swift glance about, probing the long shadows thrown by constructs of pitted stone as the air hummed with the power gathered about him. He found nothing, and the tension eased from his tall form as he released some of that power. The rift closed behind him with a sizzling sigh, its luminance fading after it like a dying candle flame, and the man began to walk.
He had not really expected an ambush. Everything he had sensed thus far suggested a foe that was clumsy and inexperienced. Otherwise he would not have risked opening a Way directly here. It had been easy enough to orient upon the site of the event, given some time, and it was always liberating to be on a world where such travel was unknown and therefore not warded against. Tearing open a temporary Way was still a draining effort, however, and could leave one vulnerable to ready resistance on the other end. As he had surmised, there was nothing of the kind awaiting him. Still, a phenomenal amount of power had been employed here, more than enough to give him pause, and he