“He had heard that Castle Brass has reappeared, that Hawkmoon and the rest took a town to the north of the Kamarg and destroyed every man of ours occupying it. It’s a rumour and hard to believe. Where could Hawkmoon have raised an army at such short notice?”

“Such rumours are common in times of war,” Melia

dus mused, “but it is possible. You believe Hawkmoon a larger threat than Huon thought?”

“It’s a guessbut I feel it’s an informed one. I’m motivated by other considerations, Meliadus. I think that the sooner we end this fight the better, for if Hawkmoon has an armyrecruited, perhaps, in Amarehkthen the sooner we should clear it up. I’m with you, Meliadus. I can put half a million Hounds at your disposal within the next day.”

“Have you enough now to take the palace with those that I command?”

“Possibly, with artillery cover.”

“That you shall have.”

Meliadus pumped Promp’s hand. “Oh, Baron Adaz, I believe we shall have victory by the morrow!”

“But how many of us will be alive to see it, I wonder,” Promp said. “To take the palace will cost a few thousand livesperhaps even a few hundred thousand.”

“It will be worth it, Baron. Believe me.

Meliadus’s spirits were rising at the prospect of victory over Huon, but mainly he gloated that he might soon have Hawkmoon in his power againparticularly if Kalan could really find a way of re-activating the Black Jewel as he had promised he would.

Chapter Seven

The Battle for Huon’s

Palace

MELIADUS WATCHED THEM mount the contraption on the roof of his headquarters. They were high above the streets and close to the palace where the fighting raged. Promp had not yet brought up his Hounds but was waiting to see what Kalan’s machine would do before he made an open attack on the palace gates. The huge building seemed capable of withstanding any attackit looked as if it could survive the end of the world. It rose, tier upon magnificent tier, into the lowering sky. Flanked by four vast towers glowing with a peculiar golden light, encrusted with grotesque bas-reliefs depicting Granbretan’s ancient glory, shining with a million clashing colours, protected by gigantic gates of steel thirty foot thick, the palace appeared to look down contemptuously at the embattled factions.

Even Meliadus felt momentary doubt as he stared at it, then returned his attention to Kalan’s weapon. From the mass of wires and tubes projected a great funnel, like the bell of a monstrous trumpet and this was turned toward the palace walls crowded with hosts of soldiers, primarily of the Orders of the Mantis, the Pig and the Fly. Outside the city the ranks of other Orders were preparing to assault Meliadus’s forces from the rear and