Songs of the Dying Earth

“Each of the barges contains between seven and ten bargemen. There are also a dozen soldiers on each craft, one officer, and an enchanter. Pinned to the prow of the first barge, with a silver needle, is the corpse of a twk-man.”

“When you sink the barges,” Vespanus said, “you must avoid being run through with a needle, or indeed with anything else.”

The madling rolled Austeri-Pranz’s eyes at him.

“How do you wish me to proceed?” he asked.

“Rip the bottoms out of the craft. Undermine the rivernbank and sent it crashing into them. Drop large stones from above. Whatever best suits your talents and imagination.”

“Very well,” the madling said dubiously, and vanished, only to return moments later.

“The barges have magical protections,” he said. “I was unable to sink them, or to drop anything upon them. They travel in the middle of the river, and are not vulnerable to collapsing banks.”

“Build a mound in the center of the river, beneath the waters,” Vespanus said. “Make its height such that the barges can just clear it. Then take some of the spikes from the castle roofs, and plant them in the mound.” He looked at Ambius in triumph. “We will tear out the bottoms of the barges.”

Ambius waved a hand. “Let the attempt be made.”

Hegadil was sent forth again, only to have the barges detour neatly around the obstacle. The attempt was made again, with like result.

Ambius looked bleakly out of the window.

“Continue your plan to sow distrust among our enemies,” he said. “It is all we can hope for.”

“I wonder,” Vespanus said, “if the promise of liberty would motivate your wife into fighting in defense of Castle Abrizonde?”

Ambius considered this for a moment, then shook his head.

“Not yet,” he said.

That night, Hegadil demolished the fortress in which the enemy champions had waited, and built instead a golden-domed structure ornamented at the corners by allegorical figures representing Knowledge, Truth, Sapience, and Insight. The banner overhead said, “For the Wisest.”

Again scouts trooped out, again parties left the armies at sunset. Two magicians, magnificently bearded respectively in copper and midnight-black, approached the structure with their guards, and entered.

In the morning, they marched out again, their beards unruffled, their expressions a little puzzled.

“What next?” asked Ambius. “For the Cleanest? For the Most Fashionable?”

“You shall see,” said Vespanus.

During the day, a wide-ranging, ingenious assortment of ruses were employed to effect the destruction of the barges, but with no success. The barges and their deadly cargo were expected within the day. Hegadil reported that the enemy magicians on the barges now bore identical superior smirks on their faces.

That night, the madling demolished the mansion of the magicians and built instead a palace faced with veined marble, crowned with lacy towers, and with a great flag proclaiming For the Greatest Ruler. Ambius paced the tower room in unsettled silence, chewing his upper lip. Vespanus did his best to sleep.

Shortly before nightfall, the Exarch and the Basileopater, each commanding a battalion of elite troops, crossed to the palace and took their places in what they must have known was a trap. Vespanus rejoiced that their vanity did not permit them to behave otherwise.

Once again, Vespanus had no intention of attacking those in the palace directly. He, and Castle Abrizonde, entirely lacked the means.

Instead, he instructed Hegadil to seal the palace from the outside, and then to plate the palace with enormous sheets of adamantine metal. If Vespanus could not actually kill the inhabitants, he would do his best to seal them inside, after which he would fill the interior with a poisonous vapor.

After he sent Hegadil on his errand, Vespanus paced back and forth on the battlements as he awaited the outcome of his scheme. The field was silent, the night cold. In his mind, Vespanus pictured vast sheets of armor being lowered silently into place, all along the distant palace.

Then there was a sudden flare of light that limned the marble towers of the palace, followed by a rush and a clap of thunder. More flashes followed, red, yellow, and blazing orange, and the air was filled with shrieks, war cries, and the beating of invisible wings.

Vespanus cursed his luck, his ancestors, and every human being for fifty leagues round. Before he was quite finished, Hegadil appeared by his side — once again in the form of Austeri-Pranz, a sight alarming enough without the addition, in this case, of charred, smoking clothing and a singed beard.

“Alas,” Hegadil croaked, “they were prepared. I barely escaped annihilation.”

Disgusted by the turn of events, Vespanus opened his thumb-ring and let Hegadil take his healing rest there. He then took himself to bed.