Turn 129

Suppressing an urge to whoop with glee, the Zakharan has to admit to himself that however much he's been thinking about going home and settling down, he doesn't really want to.
    From above, the stronghold can be seen to be divided in half by a marked path, which is bounded by low stone walls that segregate any traffic passing through from the fortress proper. There are several buildings on each side.
    They come to a landing near the south-eastern tower. The building nearest them clearly houses a large forging operation, to judge from the noise and the bitter smoke it emits. Beyond that is one with many torches lit and many men milling outside it, arming. Beyond that, the last building is dark and silent. Since it hasn't snowed in the past few days, the ground is rutted, muddy, and tracked all over, making it that much less likely that anyone will notice that more footprints have joined the mess.
    Preceded by a torch-bearing lad and followed by two guards, a pair of men approaches, apparently headed for a door leading into the southeastern corner tower; a single man stands guard there. The noise from the forge makes them difficult to hear until they are quite close.
    "I want to know who they are, Piero," the bigger man growls, one hand playing over the hilt of his sword. "Guilds or godfools are one thing, but if those sniveling tradesmen have betrayed us--"
    "It does not matter, my lord," the other man says soothingly. He matches Emmett's description of the arrogant young man from the guild hall. "We will have them back in view soon, and then it will be a simple matter to bring them for questioning. And then...."
    "The icon?" His tone is of anticipation.
    "Nearly complete, lord."
    They are about to pass out of hearing range.
    With a gentle tug on Michal's sleeve, ibn Fadil moves to stay just within hearing range, expecting darkness and the forge noise to provide most of the cover they'll need for their movement through the snow. "Back in view"? They must mean either the birds or the spiders, or both ... if this is Durrell and the chief Hextorian, as he guesses, he wants to know what is in this tower that they're visiting in the middle of a crisis, in the middle of the night.
    "It will be ready when the snow melts, then?"
    "Before. No one will be able to stand before you," he promises with a smile.
    "You do not suppose that these spies...."
    "When we have seen what may be seen, I will personally attend its security."
    The two men and their guards go inside. Scanning the tower's internal face and noting that there are windows, ibn Fadil essays a cautious climb. The first few floors appear to be used for storage; through narrow, unglazed apertures he can see barrels and sacks and less identifiable shapes bulk away into the distant reaches of the mammoth tower.
    Now that he's inside the place, the scale of the fortress is even more impressive; the place looks like it was built to last forever, and there's room to house and supply a small army right here.
    Continuing upward as he follows the men's rapid progress, the windows are wider and the rooms beyond more clearly suited for dwelling; the next floor above that (sixth [fifth if you're in in Europe]) is downright palatial. Durrell's, perhaps.
    He catches another glimpse of the two men, who have left their guard behind, as they pass from an outer chamber through a curtained doorway, into some inner region of the tower.
    * * *
    "In your own time, Mr. Alais," Yestin orders, for once looking more pleased than worried about events. Pham has taken the helm for the duration, and the rest of them are gathered on the weapons deck, the only exposed area of the ship.
    The eccentric wizard digs around in the pockets of robe for a few moments and mutters to himself with a half-hidden gesture. A moment later the quiet darkness is violated by an enormous explosion against the main building.
    Lynden can't help but be impressed by the noise from the fireball and taking a quick look over the side he mutters, "I'm glad we're on the same side wizard. Let's give them something else to think about shall we?" is his suggestion as he heads towards the ladder coiled ready to be thrown over the ship's side. Scanning the ground below he looks for a target discounting a parked wagon before clapping his hands together loudly and gesturing towards a larger, still harnessed, wagon loaded with barrels.
    The horse breaks its traces, throwing itself wildly against the weight of the wagon as shouts erupt inside the building and the first few people emerge to see what's going on.
    Emmett, meanwhile, has pulled his seldom used javelins from storage. Their tips are smeared with pitch, and there's a brazier of glowing coals, and once the first is lit it is hurled towards a window near the part of the building used as a stable.
    Still further shouts indicate that the fire has caught even before the glow is visible from the ship. Pure chaos has gripped the people below; some of them are running out of the building while others try to run in, some are trying to organize a bucket chain while others are trying to get animals out of danger, and still others are simply fleeing.
    Then someone spots the ship. Hovering there, it does look more or less like a dragon, and there is a brief general scattering before two more men emerge from the building. One of them appears to be a leader, shouting orders and trying to coordinate the various ongoing efforts. The other is a stocky man who stamps out into the snow and stares upward for a moment, gaping in shock -- evidently the crew's swift motion meant the fortress had not yet had time to warn the people here.
    Nyala fires twice in smooth succession, eliciting a yell of pain. "He's wearing robes under that fur." Yestin's crossbow bolt shatters harmlessly against the building wall, and he mutters a mild oath as he sets the weapon aside in favor of something more personal.
    The man they've targeted retreats around the corner of the burning building, which provides some light for the scene. He appears to be searching for something on his belt. A whistle? it makes no sound they can hear.
    
    

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