The Ivory Star

Chapter 26

"Fool!"

The black-gauntleted hand smashed across Sneev's face like a hammer. The small, misshapen man spun completely around and fell backwards to the ground. With a tiny, gnarled hand he wiped the flow of blood from his crushed lips, staring up at his attacker, his entire body quivering with fear and rage.

"But—" Lord Sneev began, as the ebon-plated Slayer moved toward him.

The malevolent blood-red eye painted on the dull, black breastplate skewered him with its gaze.

"Silence, maggot," growled the towering Slayer. Two blood-shot stone-gray eyes flogged him from the cold eye-slits. A pair of mighty ram's horns curled away from the sides of the helmet. He was well over six feet tall, with spiked plate armor black as the depths of Hell, the flat blank faceplate, slitted for eyes and mouth. A series of golden bands in the upper left corner of the breast plate designated his rank of general. His huge hand fingered the hilt of the massive bastard sword at his side.

The Slayer's voice sounded like gravel on old boot leather. "You are an imbecile, Sneev. Our master wants Valerion dead before the Great Conjunction, and you sit on your arse doing nothing." With a speed that belied the general's massive size and armored state, he reached down and snatched the trembling Lord Sneev off the ground, dragged him outside, and pointed at the royal blue morning sky, at the three Day Stars which were now within a few weeks of convergence.

"But, Master," Sneev whined, squirming in the Slayer's grip, "weeks ago, I detached a dozen men after materials to rebuild the bridge! They haven't returned."

The Slayer general produced a coarse burlap bag crusted with rusty brown stains, and tossed it at Sneev's feet. "Here is the head of your captain in charge of that detachment. We found it mounted on the head of a spear at the edge of Ryvan Marsh, along with all your men." The Slayer cast him away, sending Sneev sprawling in the dirt.

Sneev swallowed hard, breathing heavily. After a moment he struggled to his feet, his stoop more pronounced than ever. He said, "That bridge must be rebuilt to take the castle."

Stone-like silence was his answer.

"I'll send more men after materials."

"No," the Slayer general said. "Fortunately for you, the Master knew of this, and sent more materials with us. Your men will begin work on the bridge immediately." Then he spun on his spurred heel and stamped away, his heavy steel boots crunching the old snow and frozen mud. Then he paused, turning. "The Master grows very displeased with you, Sneev. I would advise you not to fail him again."

* * *

From the gatehouse tower Valerion and Gerion watched the heavy wagons being drawn through the rubble of Lakeside toward the far side of the bridge, and unloaded of their cargoes of wood and binding materials.

"They're going to rebuild the bridge," Gerion said.

"Not surprising," Valerion said.

"I suppose not. But what can we do to stop them?"

Valerion shrugged, stroking his mustache. "I wonder why they haven't tried to rebuild it sooner. Once that bridge is rebuilt, nothing but steel and blood will hold Uhr's dogs at bay."

They said nothing for a while as they watched wagon after wagon being unloaded.

Then Valerion said, "Father?"

"Aye, son?"

"Why did you leave, so many years ago?"

Gerion stiffened, and spat over the battlement to clear his throat. He took his time answering. "I merely felt it was time to hand you the reins."