The conversation between the two dragons ended, and Anora proceeded with her spellcasting. Her plan was foolproof. It could not fail. Unpredictable though humans might be, she saw no way they could escape their fate. The real army would cast an illusion of itself. The illusionary army would attack the castle. The cannons would misfire. The horrendous explosion would wipe out every living being within a twenty-mile radius. Two major cities destroyed. What was left of the kingdom of Idylswylde would sue for peace.

The dragon army would then march on the neighboring kingdom of Weinmauer.

Terms: Surrender or be destroyed.

Or maybe just be destroyed.

Anora began to work her magic.

41

THE NEXT MORNING, AS DAWN BROKE, SCOUTS BROUGHT WORD that the enemy army was on the march, heading for the capital. The enemy was, as yet, some miles distant, moving slowly, in no hurry. The flash of the sun off their armor could be seen for miles, according to one report. So, too, could the smoke billowing into the air, for they set fire to field and farmhouse as they passed. The warriors summoned lightning from out of blue skies, starting fires where the bolts struck, so that it seemed to the victims that God himself hurled His wrath against them. Some began to cry that these warriors were not demons but avenging angels, sent to punish them for their transgressions.

“The end of the world is coming,” they wailed, and so it was, but in a way they could not fathom.

After hearing the terrible death toll in New Bramfells, King Edward had ordered the evacuation of the civilian population of Ramsgate-upon-the-Aston. Monasteries and abbeys in outlying districts took in many of the refugees. Merchants closed their shops, packed up their merchandise, and left via the river or overland. Once the city was emptied of civilians, the king pulled the troops off the city walls and brought them in to defend the castle.

Edward sought to convince his soldiers that these warriors were neither demons nor angels. They were ordinary men with extraordinary abilities. Few believed him. The king might have pointed out that his very own son could wield the same magic, and Edward sometimes wondered, in the sleepless hours of the night, if being open and honest about Marcus and the magic would have been the better course of action. He decided eventually it would have made no difference at all. The ignorant and superstitious would have thought Marcus a demon, too.

The cannons were readied for action. The gunners were in position. The gunpowder, usually stored in a bunker that had been dug into the ground some distance from the castle proper and its outbuildings, was hauled from the bunker to the castle. Edward had ordered construction of a small bunker near the guns, and this was stocked with powder barrels. Buckets of water stood by the guns and by the bunker in order to douse any spark.