‘making good my escape,'” Scipio Bellorum answered without looking back. “I suggest you do the same.” Then, drawing a whip, he sent his horse at a wild gallop down toward the Great Road before it could be blocked by his fleeing army.
34
Oskan watched as Thirrin and her allies drove the army of the Polypontian Empire from the field. He continued ringing the huge Solstice Bell, its deep note sweeping over the night and adding a melodious counterpoint to the awful sounds of battle. But then, gradually, he allowed the ringing to stop as he looked out over the plain, feeling small and unwanted. Even the soldiers who’d been left on garrison duty had run down to join the battle, and his sense of loneliness was increased by the melancholy sighing of a gentle wind that stirred his newly grown hair and brought with it a scent of the forest.
But then he noticed a distant and dark flying figure that had detached itself from the black of the night. It circled slowly as though looking for something, then it dived toward the city. Soon it was flying overhead and screeching a hideous call. One of the Vampires had decided to pay him a visit for some reason, and Oskan shuddered in the warm night. He watched as the creature folded its leathery wings and landed a few feet from where he stood.
The giant bat was awkward on the ground; its small, clawed feet minced over the stonework of the parapet and its wings rattled and billowed as it tried to keep its balance. Its face was pointed, with a wide mouth that bristled needle-sharp teeth and two huge fangs, which glittered in the moonlight.
“Oskan the Warlock,” a feminine voice said mockingly.
“Do I know you?”
“Oh yes. Just a moment and I’ll make things clearer,” the bat answered, and as Oskan watched, the vicious foxlike face trickled and ran like wax before a flame. The ears and fur retracted and new features gradually began to form. Soon a tall and loathsomely beautiful woman stood before him, dressed in elegant black armor. “Do you recognize me now, Oskan the Warlock?”
“Your Majesty,” he said in greeting, bowing his head to the Vampire Queen.
“My, haven’t you grown?” she said, running her eyes appreciatively over him and licking her fangs. “Still, I’m much stronger than I look. I’ll easily be able to carry you.”
“Carry me?”
“To your beloved. She’s reached the enemy camp and is having a conference with her allies. Surely you want to be there?”
“Well … yes.”
“Good.” Her Vampiric Majesty then turned her back on him and, peering over her shoulder, said, “Then climb aboard.”
As Oskan watched, she resumed her bat form, the black armor flowing into the leathery wings and her long hair somehow metamorphosing into pointed ears. After a moment’s hesitation, Oskan stepped forward and placed his arms around her neck.
“Oh, what a strong grip for such a young man. What delightful promise the years must hold,” came the mocking voice as she leaped into the air and her wings beat down powerfully. They surged skyward, and wheeled out over the plain. The battlements of Frostmarris fell dizzyingly away, and the ground ran and flowed below them as they sped toward the enemy camp.
Oskan hardly dared open his eyes after the takeoff, but eventually he peered out at the sky, its dense field of glittering stars subdued by the power of the full moon that drenched the night with the glory of its subtle light. Then he looked over Her Vampiric Majesty’s shoulder and stared down at the ground. The sight was grim. Everywhere he looked, bodies lay in heaps where the army of the Empire had been broken and the rout had begun. Under the light of the moon, the armor and weapons gleamed and flashed as Oskan flew overhead, and the dead soldiers lying in their tangled and broken heaps looked like the abstract patterns that marked the pages of illuminated books. It was almost as though the night were mocking his horror with an unlooked-for beauty, and he closed his eyes on the sight.
They’d soon crossed the plain and were circling in long spirals down to the ground. The Vampire Queen landed softly outside Bellorum’s campaign tent. She resumed her human form, took Oskan’s hand, then stepped elegantly through the entrance and into the wide space where the general had discussed tactics. Inside, Thirrin sat at a large table with Tharaman-Thar, Basilea Iphigenia, King Grishmak of the Wolffolk, and His Vampiric