df.therunelords-第106章

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th　shafts。
　Rage　threatened　to　take　him；　a　blind　and　burning　rage。　Raj　Ahten　fought　it　down。　Destroying　these　men　would　gain　him　nothing。
　Out　of　bowshot；　Raj　Ahten　stood；　panting；　and　shouted　at　the　castle；　〃Brave　knights；　dishonorable　lords：　I　e　as　a　friend　and　ally　in　these　harsh　times。　Not　as　your　enemy！〃
　He　let　the　full　power　of　his　Voice　flavor　the　words。　Surely　these　men　could　see　he　was　the　injured　party　here。　Eleven　of　his　finest　warriors　lay　dying　on　the　battlefield。
　Though　he　was　far　away；　too　far　for　his　glamour　to　take　full　effect；　his　Voice　alone　might　sway　the　men。
　〃e；　King　Orden；〃　he　shouted　reasonably。　〃Let　us　counsel　together。　Surely　you　know　I　have　a　great　army　in　the　wings。　Perhaps　you　can　see　them　now　from　your　vantage　point？〃
　He　hoped　Vishtimnu　was　ing。　Perhaps　such　a　sighting　had　prodded　Orden　to　this　dastardly　deed。　With　all　the　sweetness　he　could　muster；　he　said　soothingly；　〃You　cannot　defeat　me；　and　I　bear　you　no　malice。　Throw　down　your　weapons。
　〃Throw　open　your　gates。　Serve　me。　I　will　be　your　king；　and　you　will　be　my　people！〃　He　waited　for　surrender　expectantly；　as　he　had　at　Castle　Sylvarresta。
　It　seemed　he　waited　for　a　full　minute　for　any　reaction　at　all。　When　it　came；　it　was　not　what　he　had　hoped。
　Only　a　couple　dozen　of　the　younger　men　tossed　weapons　over　the　walls；　so　that　spears　and　bows　clattered　against　the　battlements；　splashed　into　the　moat。
　But　as　quickly　as　the　weapons　fell；　so　did　their　bearersfor　the　hardened　warriors　on　the　wall　tossed　their　weak…willed　panions　to　their　deaths。　The　bodies　bounced　down　along　the　sloped　walls　of　the　castle。
　A　great；　greasy…looking　bear　of　a　man　stood　directly　above　the　gates；　and　he　spat　as　far　as　he　could；　so　that　a　wad　of　spittle　hit　Raj　Ahten's　dying　knights。　Orden's　men　burst　into　laughter　and　shook　their　weapons。
　Raj　Ahten　sat　in　the　cool　wind；　gritted　his　teeth。　He　had　not　spoken　any　better　at　Castle　Sylvarresta；　but　the　effect　had　been　profoundly　different。
　It　might　have　been　that　with　his　increased　metabolism；　he　had　not　spoken　the　words　as　slowly　as　he'd　hoped；　enunciated　them　with　the　proper　intonation。　Each　time　one　took　endowments　of　metabolism；　one　had　to　learn　the　arts　of　speaking　and　hearing　all　over　again。
　Or　perhaps　it　was　the　endowments　of　glamour；　he　told　himself。　I've　lost　glamour　since　Castle　Sylvarresta。　He'd　felt　it　when　the　Duchess　of　Longmont　had　died；　taking　her　endowments　of　glamour　with　her。
　〃Very　well！〃　Raj　Ahten　shouted。　〃We　shall　do　this　the　hard　way！〃　If　Orden　had　been　seeking　for　some　goad　to　spark　Raj　Ahten's　anger；　he'd　found　it。
　Raj　Ahten　struggled　for　control；　found　himself　seething。　He　knew　it　would　be　hard　for　those　men　in　the　castle。　It　would　have　been　quicker　for　all　concerned　if　they　had　surrendered。　Raj　Ahten　had　taken　a　hundred　castles；　many　as　stout　as　this；　until　it　was　a　practiced　art。　I'll　make　an　example　of　haughty　King　Orden；　he　vowed。
　He　stood　before　his　battle　lines；　raised　his　warhammer　high；　then　dropped　it　with　a　cutting　motion。
　The　first　volley　of　stones　lofted　from　his　catapults。　Some　smaller　stones　disappeared　over　the　walls；　while　heavier　loads　slammed　lower　on　the　battlements。　Two　of　Orden's　cutthroats　dropped　under　the　weight　of　the　stones。
　Orden　countered　with　artillery　from　the　city　wallssix　catapults；　and　four　ballistas。　The　catapults　hurled　small　iron　shot　that　fell　like　a　deadly　hailfive　yards　short　of　his　men。　Orden　would　have　done　better　with　some　lighter　shot。
　The　ballistas　were　another　matter。　In　all　the　South；　Raj　Ahten　had　never　seen　a　ballista　made　with　Heredon's　spring　steel。　In　cities　like　Bannisferre　and　Ironton；　artificersearth　wizards　who　had　mastered　secret　arts　of　metallurgy　and　artificehad　labored　long　to　make　such　steel。　Raj　Ahten　was　unprepared　when　bolts　flashed　from　the　walls　in　a　dark　blur；　striking　through　the　ranks　of　his　men。
　One　ballista　bolt；　like　a　huge　arrow　cast　of　iron；　flashed　toward　him。　He　leaned　away　from　it；　only　to　hear　the　bolt　plummet　into　someone　behind　with　a　sickly　thud。
　He　turned　to　see　a　flameweaver　sit　roughly　to　the　ground；　a　hole　the　size　of　a　grapefruit　through　his　navel。
　The　young　man's　saffron　robes　suddenly　burst　into　white　flame；　as　his　power　raged　out　of　control。
　〃Retreat！〃　Raj　Ahten　called　for　his　men　to　take　cover。　They　needed　little　urging。
　Raj　Ahten　raced　over　the　hill　as　the　flameweaver　eruptedthe　massive　form　of　the　elemental　that　had　coiled　like　a　worm　at　the　center　of　his　soul　suddenly　escaping。
　A　lean；　bald　man　took　form；　a　hundred　feet　tall；　sitting　on　the　ground。　Flames　licked　at　his　skull　and　swirled　at　his　fingertips。　He　gazed　at　Longmont　with　a　troubled　expression。
　Raj　Ahten　watched。　Such　an　elemental　could　wreak　havoc；　blast　the　stone　walls　to　oblivion；　burn　the　gate；　fry　the　inhabitants　of　the　castle　like　maggots　on　a　griddle。　Just　as　the　elemental　had　done　at　Castle　Sylvarresta。
　Yet　Raj　Ahten　felt　disappointed。　For　years　he'd　nurtured　these　flame…weavers。　Now　two　had　already　been　slaughtered　in　this　campaign。　It　was　a　damnable　waste　of　resources。
　There　was　nothing　to　do　for　it　but　wait；　watch　the　elemental　do　its　work；　then　clean　up　after。
　The　elemental　became　a　raging　inferno　that　set　the　grass　at　his　feet　burning。　The　air　roared　like　a　furnace；　and　heat　smote　Raj　Ahten；　searing　his　lungs　with　each　breath。
　The　hot…air　balloon　still　hovered　five　hundred　feet　over　the　battlefield。　Raj　Ahten's　men　pulled　it　away　before　the　elemental's　heat　made　its　silk　burst　into　a　ball　of　fire。
　The　elemental　pointed　itself　toward　the　city；　began　striding　across　the　battlefield。
　Men　on　the　walls　of　Longmont　fired　bows　in　terror。　The　tiny　arrows　flew　toward　the　monster　like　stars　that　burst　into　flame　in　the　night　sky　before　they　were　consumed。　The　arrows　could　not　defeat　the　elemental；　only　feed　it。
　The　elemental　reached　for　the　nearest　wood；　its　fingers　extending　in　a　twisting　green　flame　that　caressed　the　drawbridge　of　Longmont。　The　sounds　of　crackling　wood　and　splintering　beams　filled　the　air。　The　soldiers　atop　the　walls　rushed　to　escape　as　a　fiery　blast　slammed　against　the　castle。
　A　cheer　now　rose　from　the　throats　of　Raj　Ahten's　men；　though　Raj　Ahten　only　smiled　grimly。
　Suddenly；　water　began　gushing　from　the　walls　over　the　arch；　flowing　in　runnels　from　the　mouths　of　the　gargoyles　above　the　gate；　wept　from　the　castle's　stone　everywhere　in　great　waves；　so　that　the　gray　walls　glistened。
　Everywhere；　water　was　rushing　up　the　stone　battlements　from　the　moat；　forming　a　wall。　The　great　elemental　turned　to　steam　at　its　touch；　began　to　shrink　and　dissipate。
　Raj　Ahten　seethed；　wondering。
　One　of　his　flameweavers　shouted；　〃A　water　wizard's　ward！〃　It　seemed　the　castle　had　some　unanticipated　magical　protection。　Yet　there　were　no　water　wizards　here　in　Heredon　that　Raj　Ahten　had　ever　heard　of。
　Raj　Ahten　wondered。　Such　wards　could　not　last　out　a　year　and　required　a　magical　emblem　to　be　placed　on　the　castle　gate。　He'd　seen　no　such　emblem　or　rune　four　days　past。
　Then　he　looked　above　the　gate：　Orden　stood　on　the　arch；　holding　his　golden　shield　against　the　castle　wall。　The　ward　had　been　built　into　his　shield；　and　by　laying　the　shield　against　the　castle　wall；　the　entire　castle；　by　extension；　became　shielded。
　Raj　Ahten's　face　twisted　in　rage　as　he　watched　his　elemental　shrivel　amid　the　water's　onslaught。　It　cringed　and　huddled　like　a　lonely　child；　then　became　a　mon　fire　burning　in　the　grass。　In　half　a　moment；　even　that　was　smothered。
　Raj　Ahten　felt　impotent；　maddened。
　Then　the　wizard　Binnesman　appeared　on　Raj　Ahten's　own　horse；　racing　down　from　the　wooded　hills　to　the　west；　to　put　himself　between　the　Wolf　Lord's　army　and　the　castle。
　　
　Chapter　44
　THE　WIZARD　BINNESMAN
　　
　King　Orden　pulled　his　golden　shield　up　to　his　chest。　He'd　brought　it　as　a　gift　to　Sylvarresta；　to　celebrate　their　children's　betrothal。　The　ward　on　the　shield　was　to　have　protected　Castle　Sylvarresta。　Now　it　had　saved　Longmont。
　But　the　shield　had　bee　worthless；　save　as　a　target　for　arrows；　drained　of　all　its　water　spells。
　Silently；　Orden　cursed　himself。　When　he'd　seen　Raj　Ahten　fall　from　the　arrow；　he'd　hesitated。　He　could　have　gone　then；　rushed　down　to　atta