The Return of the Dragonhawk

Chapter 21 -- A Brother of the Brazen Stallion

Rhoz peered over an archer's shoulder, thankful that she had found a stool to stand on. Without it, she would be too short to see anything of the drama unfolding outside.

The hostile emissary had stationed himself some twenty paces from the gate, hefting his war hammer from time to time as if he were planning to take the fortress single-handedly. His golden hair and sturdy legs were much like Gundar's. Gold glinted on his forehead, at his throat, and down the front of his ermine-trimmed jacket. He was accompanied by a single attendant, a tall, slightly stooped individual leaning on a staff, his face and body covered by a hooded russet cloak bordered with rune monograms in dark brown and gold. Rhoz did not remember either of them from the ill-fated betrothal banquet. She racked her brain to recall the toasts that were exchanged. Had there been mention of a brother Lothar? Lili would know -- where was Lili? Was she still intent on her love-sport with Gundar, or were they watching from another one of the slit-like windows?

Alyx had left the safety of fortress through a small side gate, accompanied by a dozen torch bearers armed with swords. A daring move -- there was no way of knowing how many men Lothar had hidden in the night shadows. Archers were stationed at every slitted window of Draklunys, arrows nocked and ready to fly at anything remotely suspicious.

Despite the apparent inequality of the situation, neither visitor showed any sign of unease. Even if Rhoz had been blind to the amber-hued magical shield flickering around the unwelcome guests, she would have known that they considered themselves invulnerable. Lothar was the picture of arrogance, supremely confident of his ability to enforce his demands.

So far, his requirements were simple: the immediate surrender of Gundar and Lili.

Rhoz's mind reached out for Panax and sensed his irritation at the presence of unfamiliar horses. She tried to establish closer contact with him in the hope of learning how many there were; but he was too far away.

Alyx was standing well back from Lothar and his companion, repelled by magical forces that he could not see. He had not unsheathed his weapon, but his hand never strayed far from it. Lothar's voice rang out in boastful tones calculated to strike terror into everyone within earshot. Although he was allowing his mage to speak for him, he seemed to have no difficulty understanding the Draklunian tongue.

"The Northlander forces hold some two hundred men of yours at the crossroads," the mage translated. "Tomorrow at sundown, they die -- unless Prince Lothar has what he came for."

Rhoz put a hand on the archer's shoulder to steady herself. They have taken so many of our advance guard captive? How can that be? Lili said it would be long before Halgrim had gathered sufficient strength to march south!

She felt Alyn's mind probing hers. Did not a hawk arrive from the Great Crossroads late this afternoon, saying that all was well?

Rhoz released her breath. Of course! Unless his horses had sprouted wings, Lothar was bluffing.

What shall we do? she asked Alyn. Lothar's mage seems powerful.

We have a plan. Alyn's reassuring presence disappeared abruptly. Rhoz concentrated, trying to bring her back, then focussed her attention on the exchange below.

Lothar was smiling wolfishly as he spoke, toying with his prey before the kill. "Prince Lothar cannot consider leaving without his brother," the mage said. "Surely you understand that. You were not always an only child."

"That will not be possible," Alyx replied in a neutral diplomatic tone underlaid with steel.

"The prince will pay whatever you ask."