A look of concern and uncertainty flashed over the King’s face, and he glanced at Captain Ault, saying, “Prepare for the siege—quickly.” Many another king would have trusted his captains to see to the details, but now Sylvarresta spoke . . . uncertainly, it seemed to Gaborn, listing odd commands as if for Ault’s approval. “Send a detail through the city to make sure our roofs are fireproofed. As for the Southern traders camped outside—I fear we must do them the discourtesy of seizing their goods. But don’t engage in unnecessary butchery. Leave them mounts to ride home, and enough stores so that they don’t starve on the trek. Oh, and kill the elephants outside the castle. I won’t have them battering down our gates.”

“Yes, milord,” Ault said, his face clouded with concern. Then he saluted and rushed out.

The preparations were begun hastily enough, and in that moment, several counselors took leave of the room. Gaborn felt that something was terribly amiss.

As the counselors filed out, during an uncomfortable silence, King Sylvarresta studied Gaborn from worried gray eyes. “I owe you a great debt, Prince Orden. We suspected something like this, but hoped it would not come until spring. We already suffered an attack by Raj Ahten last night. Assassins struck at our Dedicates. We were ready for them, though, so the damage is not too great.”

Suddenly, Gaborn understood, Sylvarresta’s coldness, his uncertainty. The King did not remember him.

Sylvarresta said, “Well met, Prince Orden!”

He shouted over Gaborn’s shoulders, “Collin, get food and a bath for Prince Orden—and clean clothes. We can’t have our friends wandering about in bloody rags.”

Gaborn felt thankful for the embrace, for just then an overwhelming fear struck him and Gaborn needed support. If Sylvarresta has forgotten my face, Gaborn realized, what else has he forgotten? What of tactics in battle? What of self-defense?

Of course, that was why the King’s advisors had gathered, to pool their knowledge. But against a monster like Raj Ahten, would their resources be enough?

7

PREPARATIONS

That afternoon Sylvarresta’s people were still preparing for battle. The initial hysteria of the impending attack—the screaming of children and peasants, the mad rush as the elderly and infirm fled the city—had all passed. Now uneasy farmers and soldiers alike manned the Outer Wall, and had thrown up hasty barriers to serve as battlements in the streets. Not in four hundred years had so many people gathered on the walls—for many who would not fight stood watch out of sheer curiosity.

Pigs, cattle, sheep, and chickens scurried through the alleys and greens, frightened, disoriented. All the animals in the countryside had been herded within the walls—to feed the city’s inhabitants during siege, while at the same time denying similar succor to Raj Ahten’s troops.