SHEGRIMOTH

As word of the defeat of the dark forces' magicians reached the city, a great cheer went up. Soldiers rushed forward again to take up the defence of their lands, no longer impeded by the hail of murderous fireballs. They quickly regained the inner defences, launching wave after wave of the lethal arrows, closely followed by a bombardment from the catapults as they began to pound the oncoming hordes.

Yet still the attacking army advanced, no longer checked by the Glomer's fires that now burned in ragged patches, victim of Adam's assault. Once again, the tide turned, forcing the officers to issue commands for the bugles to sound the withdrawal, summoning the men to return inside the city walls, but this was to be no orderly retreat. High above, as Vorcan swooped and added his fire to the battle, neither Adam nor Ichabod could hear what was happening below, but both could see that the battle was fast becoming a rout as defenders fled for the city gate.

With so many combatants not wearing uniforms, it was impossible to tell who fought with which side; only when they turned their backs to race towards the gate could defenders be separated from attackers. Outnumbering the Caregoron and Jelvoan soldiers by ten to one, the attackers hacked them to pieces long before they reached safety behind the walls. Fearing that the city defences would be breached, and with only a few men left outside, the guard captain ordered the gate closed.

The moment they saw the gate shut, the attackers fell back, withdrawing beyond the range of the defending archers, to regroup in preparation for their next assault. Like a tide they poured across the fields, dragging their machines of war with them, some to remain before the eastern gate whilst others marched in force to the north and south. The next attack would be on a much wider front, splitting the ranks of the defenders, testing for exploitable weaknesses.

With a temporary cessation in the battle, the clash of weapons gave way to the cries of the wounded, an occasional shouted order and the steady tramp of marching feet as both sides repositioned their men ready for the next round. Daybreak was only a few hours away, bringing with it the light needed by the artillerymen to seek their targets and direct their weapons.

Inside the city, Kawuhl and his lieutenants issued orders to evacuate the injured, removing them from within range of the enemy catapults, and for the men to be fed. There would be no time for food once the battle recommenced, and the General knew his men would fight better on full stomachs.

The first light of dawn came, casting a feeling of deep foreboding over the city's inhabitants. As Pallos rose in the sky, bathing the walls of Meriandor in a blood red hue that lit up the rows of men on top of her walls, the attacking forces below used its glare to shield them from sight. Blinded by the sun as it moved slowly upward across the azure bowl of the sky, the men saw nothing until it was too late. The commanders of the invading army, snatching the advantage that the sun gave them, launched a massive catapult attack.

Boulders hurled across the space between the opposing forces, some striking the walls with resounding crashes, tumbling masonry and men in all directions, whilst others sailed across the walls to fall with devastating effect amongst the men waiting below. In minutes the defenders were in disarray, all order gone as men scattered, desperately seeking shelter from the attack.

Kawuhl knocked down by a chance blow from a flying splinter; regained consciousness some minutes later, to find himself with a bloody and aching head but otherwise unharmed. Seeing the confusion, he began to bark orders at the first Jelvoan Warrior he saw. Years of inbred obedience to military authority took control of the man, halting his headlong dash as he saluted his General. Carrying verbal orders for them to report to General Kawuhl, he hurried away to find any surviving Jelvoans that he could. It would take every trained man to restore any semblance of order to what remained of the defending forces.

As he set about his task, the General was on the constant lookout for Adam and Ichabod. He hadn't seen either of them since they set out to launch their attack behind the enemy lines, but now he felt in need of their support. He hurriedly scanned the skies in the hope he might see the dragon, but they were bare save for the incoming missiles launched by the catapults outside the city. Although not too worried about the walls being breached (it would take several days of constant bombardment to break through their massive thickness) he did have a far more immediate concern. Unless he could get some men to prevent it, their attackers would soon attempt to use scaling ladders.

Kawuhl wasn't the only person hoping to find Adam and the sorcerer. After the first wave of attacks began, Quilvar had left the castle to see what he could do to help. Clutching his new sword, he had ventured outside the city, in time to witness the fate of the two Glomers. He almost ran headlong into Keshi as he and his surviving companions headed for safety. Together they watched as Adam attempted to halt the terrible offensive, but lost sight of him when the crush of retreating soldiers forced them back.

Realizing that further efforts would be futile whilst the fireballs fell on the city, Quilvar had gone to help the injured. The Healers welcomed his elven magic, when they found he could ease the pain and suffering of many of the wounded. Working until he was all but completely exhausted the elf sought respite from the cries of the injured and dying. Leaving the building in which he had spent so many hours, he stepped outside to find that the new day had arrived, and that the fireball attack had ended.

Hailing a passing soldier, he asked the man what had happened, and learned of Adam and Ichabod's raid. When he pressed the man as to their whereabouts, the soldier couldn't tell him. The only piece of information he could offer was that nobody had seen them since they flew off on the back of a dragon, something that some had thought indicated that Adam and Ichabod were the creature's captives.

Too tired to return to working with the injured, yet too concerned to find somewhere to sleep, the elf wandered aimlessly for a time. Frightened by the bombardment, and worried for his friends, he was unsure where to go or what to do. Although some of its people had recently begun to show him consideration, he still didn't feel part of the city, and longed to be back in his mountain home.

It had been Ichabod's idea the moment Adam had told him how long it would take Vorcan to travel between Meriandor and Faezil, not that Adam needed much persuasion. They could both see that the armies of Caregoron would need urgent reinforcement if they were to withstand the siege being laid to Meriandor, although Adam doubted that forces brought from Antalek would be in time to help the city. He also had a second reason for wanting to visit the Antaleki capital; he needed to know if Shegrimoth had already attacked that city, in the same way that he had laid waste Kóren.

Without thought for how their absence would be taken in Meriandor, Adam asked Vorcan to fly to Antalek as soon as he had dealt with the magicians. Using his own magic, the dragon had them approaching the city in the blink of an eye.

The geography of Antalek bears close resemblance to that of Mandax, which Adam thought might account for the many similarities in the two cultures. Feudal barons fought the same battles as their counterparts on the eastern side of the lands, making farming almost non-existent, and poverty rife. Ichabod explained that the single biggest difference between the two countries was in their leaders.

Unlike the late Emperor Ogamenn, King Toldran of Antalek was by all accounts a rather ineffectual man, kept in power less for his family lineage than for the ability of others to manipulate him. A man intimidated by the two powerful families that divide Antalek, with Baron Vastok controlling the northern half of the country and Baron Yoog the south. Both had tried unsuccessfully to influence King Toldran to support them in their attempts to overthrow the other, finally reconciling themselves to having the King act as a buffer between them.

Whilst this satisfied the greedy barons, it did nothing to bring the peoples of the country closer together, nor provide them with food and shelter. Despite the influence of the two Barons, King Toldran still commanded the loyalty of the army; due in no small part to the fact that he kept them well fed and provided them with good accommodation. By comparison, the individual baronial forces were no match for the well-armed and trained men of the Royal Military, however, had they set aside their differences, their combined numbers would make them a serious threat.

The city of Faezil, unlike most walled cities of the Northern Lands, has one very striking difference, with the eastern side of the Royal Castle being built at its very limit, the castle walls themselves forming part of the city wall. This arrangement might have placed its occupants in greater danger from attack, had not that part of the city been situated on the edge of a massive, unscalable precipice preventing any access from that direction except by birds, and of course dragons.

The sight as they approached from the east was breath-taking; flying low with the castle's crenelated outline silhouetted against the blue sky, Vorcan soared up from the rocky canyon, to dive directly towards the ornate gardens of the castle. Figures darted wildly at the sight of the huge beast, running for cover, afraid that it hunted them. Warned by Adam not to try any of his usual tricks, Vorcan set down as gently as his massive frame allowed, flattening several elaborate flower beds in the process.

When word reached the king that two men riding on a dragon had approached from the east and landed inside the castle grounds, requesting an audience with him, the whole place flew into an uproar. Court attendants whose true loyalties lay with one or other of the two Barons, rushed from the palace desperate to get word to their masters, that they might participate in whatever was about to take place.

As Adam and Ichabod waited for permission to see the king, Baron Yoog had just stepped from his coach outside the palace walls; almost colliding with the messenger dispatched to pass word to him of the arrival of the two strangers and their unusual steed. Such good fortune did not however favour his rival, who was far from the city, in his castle in the northern part of Antalek.

Hearing the news, Yoog abandoned his original intent to visit a gaming establishment and whorehouse that frequently received his patronage. Hurrying as fast as his rather corpulent body permitted; he made for the palace grounds, intending to be at Toldran's side when he received his visitors. It never for one moment entered Yoog's head that such behaviour would not normally be tolerated by a monarch in his own castle, but then Toldran was hardly likely to refuse him.

Having left Vorcan to his own devices; Adam and Ichabod followed the soldier sent to escort them to King Toldran. Neither spoke much on the way, but from their few comments, a casual observer might have noted their relief at finding the city still in one piece, and apparently not under threat.

“Will you see your counterpart whilst we are here?” inquired Adam of Ichabod.

“As far as I am aware, Toldran doesn't have a Court Magician, although the Brotherhood has several members here in Faezil. Their most senior, Melgrim, is such a stubborn fellow, I hardly think him worth visiting yet we'll need his help and that of the other members of the Brotherhood if we're to win this war.”

Although Ichabod had told him what little he knew of the Antalek king, Adam pressed him further, desperate for any piece of information that might help him in the forthcoming meeting, “Are you sure there's nothing more you can tell me about King Toldran?”

“Very little I'm afraid. He's not the warlord that Ogamenn was, and lacks the backbone to control his own destiny. By all account an intelligent man, but he's really only a puppet for the stronger Barons.”

“In that case, how will he be of use to us? If as you say he doesn't control what goes on in his own country, how can he possibly help?”

“By using his army. He still has command of a very large and well equipped force.”

“But will they follow him?”

“More to the point,” exclaimed Ichabod, “can he be convinced of the need to lead them.”

At that moment, they had to finish their conversation, having arrived inside the palace, to be ushered into the presence of the king. Toldran had originally intended to deny them an audience, despite his curiosity being aroused by the dragon, simply to establish his superiority, but had rapidly changed his mind for two reasons. First Baron Yoog had demanded to be in attendance; and second, word had reached his ears that one of the two visitors bore the symbol of light in his hair.

Demonstrating remarkable fortitude for once in his life, the king refused Yoog entry, then agreed to see the two strangers, deriving perverse satisfaction from his actions, by ensuring that details of the visitors would be delayed in reaching the Baron's ears, certain however that they would do so soon enough. Yoog was beside himself with rage, but could only storm up and down the corridors, helpless to change the situation in the royal palace.

Brought before the King of Antalek, Adam and Ichabod both bowed from the waist. Straightening up, Adam looked hard at Toldran; impressed at least by the way the man held his gaze. Shorter than Adam by a couple of inches, the King nonetheless made an imposing figure, dressed as he was in his peacock blue uniform.

In a brief moment of detachment, it struck Adam that military uniform appeared to be the only form of dress worn by the rulers of this world. This hardly surprised him since they ruled mainly by force or by virtue of their military command, King Randufil being a case in point, since he was clearly no soldier. If Toldran on the other hand commanded an army, how was it that he allowed others to control his kingdom?

“Well gentlemen, tell me who you might be, and what brings you here to Faezil?” his well-modulated voice offered no hint as to his thoughts, whilst his clear blue eyes appraised the two visitors.

“Your Highness I am Adam Goodchild, Guardian of the Manifex, and this is Ichabod, Grand Master of Sorcery to the Court of King Randufil of Caregoron.”

Although there had been little in the way of noise in the huge throne room, the attendance of some forty or more officials and dignitaries created a constant background of hushed whispers. As Adam made his introductions, there was an initial gasp as they all reacted to what he said, followed by a quiet so complete it was as though life in the room had momentarily been suspended. For a moment King Toldran sat returning Adam's stare, before he replied.

“Indeed, then we are honoured to have you both here.” Turning his attention to Ichabod he asked, “I have heard tell of you, magician. Are you not also a guardian of one of the crystals?”

“I was Your Majesty, but no longer”

“Oh and why is that?”

Interrupting, Adam addressed the king, “Sire, it is a long story, and one we would gladly tell had we more time. However urgent matters require that we speak first of other things. With your permission I would beg leave to speak privately with you.”

Shocked by Adam's directness which he found not dissimilar to that of the Barons, Toldran reacted in much the same way as he might had Yoog been before him. “Why will you not speak here, we are safe in my castle?” The question hardly the sort of response to be expected from a king in his own palace.

Sensing the weakness, Adam exploited it with his next remarks. “Such safety is relative; when you hear what I have to tell you, I'm sure that you will understand. If you wish to have someone in attendance to ensure your personal safety, then I would welcome such an arrangement. Might I suggest the commanding officer of your army, since it would save time if he also heard what I have to say?”

In a feeble attempt to exert control over a meeting that was fast slipping through his fingers, Toldran blustered, “This is a most unusual request, I'm not sure that I want any part of it.” Then pausing for a moment added weakly, “still I see little harm in it.” Turning to one of his aids, he instructed that Roven be sent for to meet with him and Adam in his private quarters.

Retiring to his rooms, King Toldran left Adam to await the arrival of his army general, whilst he disappeared without explanation. Alone now that Ichabod had left to seek out members of the Brotherhood, Adam wandered around the room in which he waited. Taking in the decor, the subject matter of several of the paintings hanging on the walls struck him as unusual. Whatever the medium used, which looked similar to water colours, the pictures had a familiar quality about them. Studying one in particular, a picture of a creature that he felt sure had to be the product of the artist's imagination, taking in the exquisite draughtsmanship of the composition, he suddenly realized what it was about the paintings that haunted him; they could all have been the work of the Spanish surrealist, Salvador Dali.

Studying the paintings occupied Adam for quite a while, the time passing unnoticed, so it wasn't until almost an hour had passed before he began to get impatient. King Toldran's rather childish attempt to exert his authority was beginning to annoy him. Making up his mind to go and find the king, he strode purposefully across the room, and had his hand on the latch when the door suddenly swung open, timed as if his actions were being watched. It was a soldier, possibly the general, who had come to take Adam to meet the king, but without bothering with an introduction, simply beckoned for him to follow and turned on his heel to leave.

Hurrying behind the officer down a short passageway, Adam just had time to recall his first meeting with Kawuhl and Randufil, and fervently hoped that the meeting here in Antalek would not prove so arduous. Shown in to a small private room and offered refreshments, Adam seated himself, annoyed that Toldran was still not in attendance.

“I trust your King will not keep me waiting much longer or I shall have to depart without telling him what it is that I have come so far to relate.”

“I'm sure the King will be here as soon as he can.”

“Then I shall give him a few more minutes, and if he is not here by then I shall leave.”

The soldier looked hard at Adam as if to determine how much of a fight he would put up if he attempted to restrain him. Catching the implication in the appraisal, Adam cautioned the other man.

“I wouldn't attempt such a move if I were you. You would not be able to hold me against my will, and could well be injured were you to try.”

Although a good few inches shorter than Adam, the Antaleki's heavily built and well-muscled body, had the advantage of a fighting man's training, and it was evident in his reply that he felt confident of his ability to best the younger man.

“I think not,” and his hand went to the hilt of his sword as if to add weight to his words.

Barely had his fingers closed around its hilt, when he found himself flat on his back; the tip of Adam's sword thrust hard against his throat, the blade coruscating with red fire. His eyes wide with shock and fear he signalled his submission by allowing his body to go limp, dropping all hint of aggression.

Standing back to let the soldier get up; Adam sheathed his sword, “I would think very carefully before attempting anything like that again.”

Dusting himself down and straightening his tunic, the general smiled before he spoke, “It seems there is magic in your blade, perhaps I have misjudged you,” as he extended his hand, “forgive me, I am General Roven, at your service.”

Taking the proffered hand, Adam shook it, all the while staring into the hard blue eyes of the Antaleki. “I suspect that any misjudgement has been made by your king, general. I presume he has been watching our every move?”

The soldier ignored the question, but was obviously made uncomfortable by it, his relief evident a moment later when Toldran joined them.

“I see that you two have met,” said the king.

“Hardly a formal introduction Your Highness, but perhaps we should dispense with such pleasantries in the interest of speed.”

Having previously removed the Manifex from the pommel of his sword to avoid drawing attention to its hiding place; Adam now set it spinning in the air a few feet in front of the king. “Gentlemen if you would care to be seated, I will relate my story. The Manifex will show you many sights to give credence to what I have to say, but I would ask that you keep any questions that you may have until I have finished.”

With a flick of his hand the crystal grew in size, and scenes began to flash across its surface. Both Toldran and Roven gazed in awe as the images told their story; all the while Adam keeping up his commentary. The images of the destruction of Kóren, the death of Ogamenn, and the siege of Meriandor brought forth gasps, from the two Antalekis, but they kept their own counsel. Once Adam had finished speaking both men bombarded him with questions, about himself, Randufil, the dragon and much more besides, finally asking the one question that Adam had come to Faezil for them to ask.

It was King Toldran who put it into words, “We have seen much that disturbs and worries us, but nothing to indicate why you are here. What is it you want of us?”

“Sire, what you have just witnessed is the fate awaiting all of the lands of Falgorin. If Shegrimoth and his followers are to be beaten, then all followers of the path of light must work together. Those of your people who choose the dark path will rise up against the others, destroying them and strengthening the beast. It will likely cost you the destruction of your cities as it did Ogamenn, and many thousands of lives. What I have come to ask is will you march your army to Caregoron to join with that of King Randufil to help fight this battle?”

“But that would be foolish; if I desert Faezil now, the beast will have freedom to do as he wishes with it. No, I think I must refuse your request. Besides with my army and me out of the way, the Barons would waste no time in sacking the palace and taking control of the country.”

If common sense prevented the king from cooperating, Adam prepared to try his second line of attack, that of flattery, “Forget the Barons, My Lord, I shall deal with them before I leave. You will need their men to march with you anyway, and from what I understand, it would benefit you to have charge of their armies.”

The thought that he would have command over the Barons' armies was almost sufficient to sway him, since it was this that had prevented him from controlling his country. Almost but not quite. “Why should I trust you? Just because you have the Manifex and that streak of white hair, doesn't give me any such reason.”

“I cannot force you to trust me, any more than I can force you to join armies with us, but if you don't, I can promise you that you will regret it. After all what have you to lose? Certainly nothing here, since clearly it's the Barons who control Antalek.” The truth clearly finding its mark by the look on Toldran's face before Adam made his final pitch. “Consider it, I'm offering you the chance to prove yourself, and to be the king this country needs.”

“Sire, if what he says is true and I see no reason to doubt it from what he has shown us, we should do as he asks,” suggested the general, an unexpected ally.

Adam had judged well. Toldran wasn't without honour, and he could see that the man teetered on the brink of capitulation, although there was one further piece of reassurance that he needed, “How will you prevent the Barons from taking control in my absence?”

“That's easy, they'll be coming with you,” answered Adam, and explained his plan.

“In that case it's settled. General, make whatever preparations are necessary, as soon as possible, we march to Meriandor,” honour satisfied.

Whatever logistics it involved, Adam was acutely aware that it would take more time for the Antalek armies to reach the Caregoron capital, than he suspected the city could withstand the siege. He and Ichabod had to be on their way back to the city. At least with Toldran and his men on their way, he could carry words of hope back to Randufil; it only remained for him to see if he could help Meriandor survive until they arrived.

Roven gave him fresh hope, when he suggested that he send the cavalry ahead of the foot soldiers. The Antalek horse-guards, a body of some five thousand men could start to leave the city at first light. It would take some time assembling the main force, but they had several ships in port, where they would embark men from local garrisons. They would then set sail for Codar, from where the men could march the shorter distance to Meriandor, rather than have them march to Faezil first.

It all seemed a fairly hopeless task to Adam, who despaired of them arriving in time to help his friends in Meriandor, but he knew that if there was going to be an end to Shegrimoth's plans, it could only come from the combined efforts of all the lands. He wanted to travel to Jelvoa to carry word of the battle to the Warriors, but first he had to return to the beleaguered city to see what he could do there.

Just as the three men were about to go their separate ways, King Toldran suddenly remembered that Baron Yoog was cooling his heels somewhere in the castle. Telling Adam of the situation, he laughed when the young man decided to take the opportunity to enrol the Baron in his plans.

A short time later, and Adam and Ichabod had again met up with Vorcan, and were heading north.

“How did you manage to get the Baron to co-operate,” asked the sorcerer.

“It was easy,” replied Adam, “I showed him what the crystal could do, and told him if he didn't place his men at the king's disposal, I would destroy him and his lands. I also told him that Baron Vastok would be joining forces with the king having been made the same offer, and unless he wanted to run the risk of his arch enemy currying favour with Toldran in his absence, he would be wise to join forces. Of course he agreed at once.”

“But you haven't spoken to Vastok,” retorted Ichabod.

“No, well he didn't know that, did he?”

“No I suppose not, I presume that's why we are going north, to see the Baron to make him the same offer?”

“Exactly.”

Soon after, the pair were once again in the air, this time heading back to Meriandor, with Baron Vastok's promise of allegiance still ringing in Adam's ears. Unlike his southern counterpart, Vastok had taken a little more persuading, but once Adam had let loose a hint of the crystal's power, just enough to crack a couple of walls of the Baron's home, he'd soon agreed.

Approaching the city from the west, it was impossible to see how the battle progressed. Flying low over the wall, Adam could see the look-outs posted at intervals along its length, but their passage was too swift for him to see much more. They didn't have long to wait before they could see the far side of the city, and the fire damage caused by the magicians' attack. Skirting to the north to fly over the palace, and then in a wide circle, it was apparent that the invading forces were now attacking on a much broader front.

Catapults were pounding the walls from the outside, whilst those within continued to rain down their rocky loads on the heads of the attackers. At least for the present, it looked as though the battle had settled into a waiting game for both sides. How long the Caregorons could hold out remained to be seen, because although the city had adequate water supplies from its deep artesian wells, food could prove to be another matter.

Once Vorcan had dropped them within sight of the castle and gone off to hunt, Ichabod and Adam set off to find King Randufil. News of the dragon's return preceded them, and it was the king who found them. He was overjoyed at seeing them, having himself fallen prey to the rumour of their being carried off by the dragon.

“Ichabod old friend, Adam, am I glad to see you, where have you been?” he asked.

Ichabod made his admission, “I asked Adam how long it would take for us to fly to Antalek, and then talked him into taking us there to see Toldran,” replied the old mage.

“You've been to see King Toldran!” exclaimed Randufil, “there and back?” now quite incredulous.

“Indeed there and back, and we bring good news, King Toldran is sending his army to Meriandor.”

“But I thought he never made a move without being forced into it by those two Barons.”

“Until now, I don't believe he did,” added Adam, “but I offered him some inducement and he agreed.”

“Huh! Him and the Barons,” snorted Ichabod, “but at least they're on their way. The cavalry is riding out ahead of the main force so they should be here first, and Toldran is sending ships carrying more men to Codar.”

“The question is will they be here on time?” asked Adam.

“I see no reason why not,” came the King's reply, “the Dark One's forces cannot expect to enter Meriandor with impunity you know, it will take many days before their bombardment threatens our defences. We were troubled by attempts to scale the walls, but the city magicians have provided us with an answer to that; they concocted a potion which they pour onto the ladders, instantly setting them on fire.”

Ichabod nodded wisely, “Good, good, I knew they wouldn't fail me. Well if you will excuse me Your Highness, I have things to do,” and he hurried away muttering to himself.

“I forgot to ask him if he had spoken to the brotherhood in Faezil,” commented the king.

“I fear it would have benefited you little had you asked,” said Adam, “ever since we left there I have been asking him, but he's been most evasive on the subject.”

“Strange,” said Randufil, “it's not like Ichabod to be so. Perhaps he was unsuccessful and doesn't care to admit it.”

“Possibly, but I suspect there's more to it than that,” replied Adam, cynically. “What news is there of Keshi and his friends?”

“Two of the Glomers perished in the first assault, but Keshi and the others are alive and well.”

“Yes I knew of their deaths, and what of Quilvar and Kawuhl?”

“When I last heard both were alive and well, although I gather the General suffered a minor injury. They're both still at the eastern gate.”

“Then if you will excuse me, I will go and see what I can do.”

“Of course Master Adam, but take care, we owe you a great deal.”

“Not that it will mean much unless we can halt the beast,” came his reply as he hurried away.

The scene at the gate was more devastating than Adam had visualized. Burned and flattened buildings were everywhere, upturned carts and masonry littered the streets, although thankfully the dead and injured had all been removed. It was impossible to make any attempt to clear the debris; the incoming barrage was still too intense, making such a move too hazardous for a task not important enough to risk lives. Concentrating all efforts on keeping the catapults supplied with ammunition, the only other task was to ensure that the few men needed on the walls to prevent them being scaled, were in place.

Sighting a Jelvoan officer in charge of a group of men operating one of the massive catapults, Adam hurried over to him to enquire the general's whereabouts. Following the man's instructions, Adam found both Kawuhl and Quilvar together in a hurriedly commandeered building that now served as a field hospital. Rows and rows of cots had been set-up for the wounded, whose injuries ranged from severe cuts caused by flying splinters to amputees, whose limbs had been blown from their bodies by the fireballs. The sight was not encouraging, yet Healers moved among the men offering potions and words of comfort, all with remarkable orderliness.

Catching sight of Adam as he entered; the two hurried over to greet him. Grasped in a bear like grip, Kawuhl clutched him to his chest, whilst the little elf stood to one side, his eyes conveying as great a welcome as the soldier's actions. Having explained where he and Ichabod had been, the Jelvoan was overjoyed at his news, convinced that the city could hold out until the reinforcements arrived. Adam was still sceptical, but with no experience of wars fought the way this one was, felt he should accept the Warrior's outlook.

“You say we can hold out that long General, but what about supplies? I understand we have sufficient water for a long siege, but what of our food?” asked Adam.

“There's food enough for our people for some time yet, but once the troops from Antalek arrive we'll be hard pressed,” answered Kawuhl.

“Then we must pray the battle is won before the food runs out,” said Adam with greater optimism than he felt. All the talk of food made him realize just how hungry he was; he hadn't eaten for hours. Not using clocks had its blessings, but although he couldn't prove the association, he was convinced it also meant that the inhabitants of this world rarely ate at regular intervals. Perhaps in time he might get used to it, but for the present his body demanded that he eat, and it was telling him he was long overdue in providing it with nourishment.

It transpired that neither Kawuhl nor Quilvar had eaten, and both welcomed his suggestion that they find themselves some food. By the time they returned to check on the defences at the gate, dusk was beginning to fall. The gathering gloom had the advantage of causing the suspension of the catapult attacks, as targets on both sides were lost from view, but it also increased the risk of attempts at scaling the walls under cover of darkness.

Planning in advance for just such an eventuality, Kawuhl had placed braziers along the top of the walls and had a ready supply of torches to hand. Tension increased as darkness fell, although there didn't appear to be any increase in activity in the enemy camps. It looked as though they were prepared to wait out the defenders, if necessary starving them out, since they would know that the city couldn't hold limitless amounts of food. Of course, they didn't know that reinforcements were on their way, and that the longer they delayed the greater the chances were for the city.

Weary after the efforts of the day, Adam went in search of a bed. He accepted Kawuhl's suggestion that he use the barracks, because they were close at hand, and easily reached if he was needed. He left word that someone was to call him if any development took place that might herald a change in the enemy's strategy. He didn't anticipate anything in particular, but had an uneasy feeling that events were about to take a dramatic turn. As he dropped into the cot in the barracks, instantly falling asleep, he could not have been closer to the truth.

He'd been asleep for about four hours when he was rudely awakened by someone roughly shaking him and hoarsely calling his name. “Master Adam, come quickly, come quickly.”

With barely time to slip his feet into his boots, he hurried after the rapidly disappearing figure of the soldier sent to wake him. The air outside the barracks was strangely thick and warm, heavy and alive with electricity like that preceding a storm. Nothing stirred, no breath of wind, all was still and quiet. It took a moment or two to register this fact, before it sank in that there should have been at least some sound.

The tall shape of Kawuhl loomed in the dark, outlined by a guttering torch high on the city wall. Adam could just make out the diminutive form of Quilvar standing next to the Jelvoan.

“What's wrong?” whispered Adam.

“We don't know,” replied the elf, “suddenly everything went quiet. They've stopped sending men to try and climb the walls, and have drawn back beyond our first defensive line.”

Turning to the General for his opinion, Adam asked, “Why would they do that?”

“I don't know. There's no reason for it that I can think of. I have men watching them, the fires in their camps provide sufficient light for us to see clearly what they are doing, but they appear to have stopped doing anything and are sitting around as if waiting for something.”

Adam pondered on this for a moment, certain in his mind the reason for the change in tactics, yet dreading his assessment would prove accurate. With the others close on his heels he ran towards the nearest steps to the top of the wall, bounding up them three at a time. Careful to avoid putting his head above the outer battlement, and jumping across a gap carved in the masonry by the attackers; he moved to a position where he could see into part of the enemy encampment.

It was exactly as Kawuhl had said; he could see hundreds of the soldiers sitting around, not even cleaning their weapons or taking time to eat, just staring blankly into the distance. It was an eerie sight, watching these unmoving figures; unnatural at the height of a siege, that they should withdraw such a short distance and then sit down and do nothing.

Suddenly there was a movement, not from the enemy camp, but directly in front of where Adam watched. Fifty yards or so from the wall, the ground heaved; and with a tremendous cracking sound, split open like a ruptured abscess, soil and rocks pouring from it in an obscene tide. Wider and longer grew the rift, as the ground screamed in protest, before a viscous slime began to rise from the crevice. Noxious fumes floated upward, choking the men on the wall as it drifted across to where they watched in horror.

Unsheathing his sword, Adam grasped it above his head ready for what might come, its blade glowing with red fire. The sound became a banshee wail as the ground continued to push open and the slime gathered momentum, spewing forth until it ran in rivers that withered and burned all that it touched. This was the moment that Adam had been dreading, the moment when he alone would have to face the beast.

With a blood chilling yell, the monster, Shegrimoth, was before him, leaping from the corruption that flowed from the wounded land. The sound stirred the enemy camp, as with one voice they gave vent to an animal cry it was difficult to believe had been made by humans. Facing towards where Adam crouched, its voice thick and guttural, the beast spoke. “You cannot hide from me, show yourself or I will destroy you where you cower.”

With every fibre of his being stretched taut, Adam stood up, his hand still grasping the sword that he raised to point its tip at Shegrimoth.

“I do not hide from you, it is you who will be destroyed, not me,” and he brought the sword down with a sweeping motion, sending its fire in an arc across the beast's body.

Howling in rage, the monster rocked on its cloven-hoofed legs whilst its tail twitched and writhed behind it. Recovering from the blow, its human arms and hands began to move with lightning speed, circling before it, creating a swirling blaze of energy, which it suddenly released, hurling it straight at Adam. Parrying the glow with the flat of his sword, the blade rang in his hand sending shivers up his arm until it felt as though it would be wrenched from his body.

Recovering from the blow, Adam readied himself for the next attack. Unhurt yet far from being unafraid, he gazed down on the fearful creature before him.

“Release my servant,” demanded the beast, “free the Ghyyrox.”

“Never,” yelled Adam, “you'll have to destroy me and all the forces of this city before that creature will be allowed its freedom.”

“So be it,” came the response, as again the monster hurled a bolt of energy towards Adam.

Ducking the blow that had been aimed high, Adam took his sword in a two-handed grip, and as he did so the words of a spell ran through his head. Weaving a figure-of-eight pattern in the air, he chanted the magic words, over and over, until he could no longer hold the power and released it straight at the monster. Purple and green light flared about the beast, which writhed in agony where it stood, held by the magic. Brighter burned the flames, until with a mighty roar the Dark One vanished from sight.

Once Shegrimoth had departed, the ground ceased its agonies, the evil liquid stopped flowing, and a silence fell on the strange tableau, as Adam dropped his arms, exhausted by his efforts.