Page 65 of Siege of Stone (Sister of Darkness: The Nicci Chronicles 3)

Renn and Captain Trevor looked appalled. “I was afraid of this,” the wizard groaned. “By the Keeper’s beard, it’s the ancient army, the soldiers of General Utros. They are somehow awake and on the move.”

Verna heard the news with a chill. “And they are marching toward Cliffwall.”

CHAPTER 49

The Norukai serpent ships were at last ready, and King Grieve felt the hot blood singing in his veins. Each day his people moved with energy and determination as they made preparations for war. Their voices grew louder as they shouted boasts and pounded drums. Grieve had seen it before. The Norukai called it raiding fever, but this would be more than just a raid.

Accompanied by his pale and shivering shaman, the king went down to the harbor and watched all the serpent ships sail in from outlying islands. He had gathered a navy of truly breathtaking scope. In addition to the forty ships they already used in their depredations, another fifty new war vessels had been completed by the island shipwrights, and dozens more were under construction. When his fleet set off to conquer Ildakar, it would be remembered as the greatest raid in Norukai history, one that would give his people a whole continent to squeeze.

The disgraced captains Kor and Lars would each have ten ships of their own to crush and conquer the large coastal cities. The world was about to feel the strong Norukai fist.

Out in the open water beyond the main island, his warships waited. Long oars protruded from the hulls, and the muscular crew pulled, guiding the serpent ships through the dangerous labyrinth of reefs. The vessels were well supplied already, and they would find towns to raid and provisions to seize along the way, until his fleet reached the estuary and sailed up the Killraven River to seize Ildakar.

Ready to embark on their suicidal missions, Kor and Lars had gathered the surviving members of their defeated crews and encouraged volunteers to join them. Their raiders were an unruly lot, mostly Norukai who had committed crimes and wanted to purge their sentences; others had huge gambling debts. When Kor and Lars put out the call for fighters, Grieve announced that anyone who joined the expeditions could erase everything with their own blood. The crimes would not be forgotten, but the Norukai would regain their honor. They would kill, pillage, and destroy until such time as they themselves fell in battle. If they did conquer the world for King Grieve, then all would be forgiven.

From the harbor, he looked back up the slick, sheer cliffs dotted with moss to the walls of the looming Bastion. That was his ancestral home, where he had ruled for years, where his father had lived and died, and where so many other Norukai kings had ruled. Grieve realized he might never return here if Ildakar was all Kor said it was, but he also knew that the king of the world could not be isolated on an island.

Before the separate fleets could launch, however, important sacrifices needed to be made. The Norukai knew how to guarantee victory.

Squat Norukai women stood together at the rim of a drum five feet across, pounding with clubs on the stretched skin of a scaly serpent. The drums boomed out, echoing along the cliffs and shuddering in the water, louder even than the waves crashing against the black rocks. Around the corner of the harbor cliffs, a second group of summoners clanged on the cylindrical iron bells that dangled on chains from the rock walls.

Beside him, Chalk bounced from one foot to the other, energized by the drums, though his movements didn’t follow the rhythm. When the shaman grinned, his scarred lips twisted and his pockmarked face wrinkled. “My Grieve! And the serpent god! Serpent, serpent, serpent! And blood for our war.”

“We will feed the serpent god,” Grieve said, “and he will feed our bravery and our strength.”

Captain Kor waited at the end of the dock. Ten serpent ships were tied up in the harbor, making final preparations for his own raid, and Lars had a similar group of vessels, while the rest of the Norukai navy was anchored well beyond the reefs, ready to sail for Ildakar.

Kor presented himself before Grieve, stiff and formal. “I am honored to watch the sacrifice at your side, my king. The serpent god will empower my raiding party as well as your fleet.”

Grieve opened his mouth wide, exposing his teeth all the way back to the molars, and he let out a loud hiss, imitating the serpent god. Chalk laughed, delighted at the exhibition.

Grieve said, “The serpent god will empower me and my warriors, but he must forgive you and your weakness. Do you think Yorik has enough blood to buy both of those things for us?”

“Yorik is a powerful man. The serpent god will be pleased.”

Crowds gathered down at the harbor to watch from a safe distance. Norukai women brought their wide-eyed children out for the ceremony. Grieve saw that some of the boys were old enough to undergo the scarification. A few young men had their cheeks slit all the way back to the hinge of the jaw, but their scars were still red and angry. Others still had bandages wrapped around their faces. The young men watched the war preparations with shining eyes. Some of their mothers, also well armed, would go along for the battle, leaving the children in the care of trusted slaves.

Grieve looked at his people, and they stared back at him in admiration. They all feared him, but it was a healthy fear. He had led them to great glory and wealth, but he himself had remained in the Bastion for far too long. He was ready to feel hard bone and vulnerable flesh against the blade of his axe, the hot spray of blood across his face. Yes, it had been too long.

But before they could go, he had to receive the strength and blessing of the serpent god.

Leaving the crowds in the safety of the harbor, Grieve strode alongside Chalk and Kor on the narrow rock path above the tide line. This way led around the protective point to a deep, rough cove open to the sea, where the great serpents could come.

They followed the edge of the cliffs to where they could look across at pillars of stone erected on the reef rock, from which manacles dangled. This was the place of sacrifice, safely far from the ships anchored out beyond the reefs. Eager Norukai from the fleet set out in small coracles, paddling around the harbor and keeping close to the jagged shore, where they didn’t need to fear the great serpent when it came. Some of the large raiding ships also rowed closer so their crews could watch the spectacle.

The iron bells and loud drums thundered around the cliffs, sending a relentless call through the water. The serpent god would hear and respond to the summons.

Kor’s voice was hoarse. “We must prepare.” He stared at the stone posts and the empty chains hanging from them. “Quickly.”

“Prepare!” Chalk shouted. “My Grieve, King Grieve!”

A large coracle came into the cove and approached the stone pillars from the deep water. Two burly Norukai warriors rowed the coracle, while Yorik rode in the front, hunched down. He did not look panicked. Instead, he stared at the twin pillars and the chains waiting for him; then he gazed out to sea, knowing that was where the monster would come.

Kor watched him, his face expressionless.

Chalk cried o

ut, “Serpent, serpent, serpent! I’ve seen it! Blood, and war, and victory.” Then he lowered his voice, tilted his head, and snickered. “But who will win? Who will die? The serpent god will feast.”

“Quiet, Chalk,” Grieve chided. “This is a solemn occasion. It is important for our future.”

“Our future! Ildakar! Ildakar will be gone after we arrive.”

“Ildakar will be ours,” Grieve said, and turned to Kor. “And if your raiders do their jobs, so will the cities along the coast.”

“Lars and I will attack them all, King Grieve,” Kor said. “Those cities have never seen anything like the Norukai.”

The guards rowed the coracle up to the stone posts and threw a grappling hook to anchor the small boat against the rocks. They prodded Yorik, but he needed no encouragement. Naked, he stood up from the boat and stepped onto the shore, willingly taking his place between the posts with the chains. His body was muscular and scarred, covered with tattooed curves and stripes along his ribs, shoulders, buttocks, and the backs of his legs. Watching him, Grieve thought Yorik was a proud man despite his unforgivable failure.

Kor said, “The serpent god will devour him and consume his weakness, leaving the rest of us stronger.”

“You have to consume your own weakness, Kor,” Grieve grumbled.

“I know. My shame will sharpen my sword and strengthen my battle-axe. I can only pray that enough blood will wash it away. Lars and his fleet will do the same.”

The guards raised Yorik’s arms and fastened the manacles around his wrists. Arms outstretched, Yorik hung between the two stone posts. His feet barely touched the slick rock where waves crashed against the base of the posts.

From where they stood on the opposite side of the cove, Chalk hungrily watched the sacrificial victim. Dangling there, Yorik stared out to sea. He didn’t struggle. The drumbeats and the iron bells made a louder and louder clamor.

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