Gahalatine halted when he and his Wizr companions reached the front of the army. He held a sword in one hand and a blazing torch in the other. The wind was blowing hard still, thick with coin-sized flakes of snow that were quickly sticking to the ground.
The emperor of the Forbidden Court turned to Rucrius.
“Bevah-kah-sha!” Rucrius pronounced in words that trumpeted like thunder.
The wind instantly calmed. Silence fell across the wall, broken only by the hissing of the snowflakes as they hit the fires from the braziers and torches.
Gahalatine strode forward again, only stopping when he stood directly before the walls of Dundrennan. She knew that he had a way of amplifying his voice. And she felt his well of magic writhing inside him, a bowl full to the brim with power. He unleashed it.
“My name is Gahalatine, Lord of the Distant Isles. I see you plainly, Andrew, son of Eyric, son of Eredur. You wear the hollow crown. I have come to take it from you, to conquer your people and assert my claim to rule these lands as your emperor and protector. Before the bloodletting that will result if I am forced to earn my right by conquest, I give you this chance to surrender the crown to me and spare many innocent lives. But if you feel your duty is to preserve your crown by right of arms, then so be it. I did not come to kill you. Only to humble you. What say you, Lord of Kingfountain? Will you kneel before me?”
Trynne felt magic gush from Gahalatine as he spoke. He was using his words to try to cow Drew into surrendering. Faced with such impossible odds, another might have buckled and capitulated to prevent the violence of war. But Trynne stood near the king, and the magic did not shake Drew’s confidence or his resolve to defy Gahalatine’s claim. She saw the king’s jaw clench and he leaned forward, putting one hand on a buttress of the battlements.
“Both of us worship and believe in the same Fountain, my lord. It was the Fountain that gave me the right to rule. And if it is the Fountain’s will that I surrender it, then I shall. Be it according to the Fountain’s will and not my own.”
He did not have a supernatural way of lifting his voice, but Trynne did not doubt that he could be heard below.
After a moment of silent contemplation, Gahalatine lifted his head high. “Well said, sir. You are an honorable foe. I will grant quarter the moment you decide there is no longer hope. I have prepared for a year to carry on what I started. Tonight, we finish it.”
“He’s overconfident,” Severn snorted under his breath.
“Rucrius, the gate if you please,” Gahalatine said with a gallant gesture toward the castle, as if he were inviting him to dine.
Rucrius’s smile was cold and humorless. He was gripping a different staff than the one Trynne had taken from him. It was black with a yellow-orange globe attached to the end. Trynne’s pulse raced as the Wizr pointed it toward the castle.
“Soontrybio!”
The raised drawbridge jolted and exploded in a hail of splinters and debris that rained down into the black chasm below as if it had been struck from inside the castle instead of outside. The force of the explosion knocked them all to their knees. Trynne winced in pain, her ears ringing with the cracking noise as she watched small fragments of the drawbridge rain down with the snow across the bailey yard. Twisted and steaming hunks of iron littered the bailey yard too. The gate had been wrenched and snapped apart. Soldiers were scrambling to get away from the doorway.
Drew rose shakily to his feet, his eyes wide with shock. He gripped Fallon’s shoulder and nodded. Trynne couldn’t hear what he said, but she saw him mouth the word “Now!”
As if Gahalatine had heard the silent word, the first leaf-armored warriors began to land on the battlements as if catapulted from below. The din of clashing metal broke out all along the upper defenses.
It was just after midnight, and Trynne wondered in desperation if they would even be able to hold them off until dawn.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Battle of the Kings
The thick flakes of snow obscured the onslaught against the walls of Dundrennan. Even though she could not see her enemies well, she sensed them through her magic and responded to their attacks. Trynne caught many of the warriors as they were unfurling and landing on the battlements, sending their bodies plummeting into the black abyss.
Fallon, holding a sword in one hand and a curved horn in another, pressed his lips against the end of the horn and let out a long, sonorous blast. From high above them, the noise was repeated as the watchmen on the tower began to sound their horns as well, signaling the commencement of the surprise attack.