The late-afternoon sun was slanting through the trees when a town came into view farther down the road.
"Okay," said Barbara, "I'll ride ahead and ask the city guards if they've seen Erik go by." She trotted her horse (well, not her horse, she reminded herself) on ahead.
The sign over the gates said "Welcome to Sunnybrook." She was amused to note, as she approached, that there was another of the wedding posters on the city wall right next to the gates.
She rode right up to the gates. "Who goes there?" said one of the guards in a tired voice.
"Greetings," she said. "My name is Barbara the Bard. I was wondering if you had seen anyone go by lately with a woman tied to her horse?"
The first guard frowned. "You mean just today?"
"What? Why, how many have there been today?"
"Well, only four that I've seen, but I just started my shift about three hours ago," he said. He turned to the guardroom doorway and called, "Hey, boss. How many girls tied to horses did the night shift see go by?"
"Hang on, let me check," came the response.
Barbara frowned. "Is this some kind of joke?"
The second guard gave her a puzzled look. "You're a bard, you're supposed to know all this kind of stuff."
She looked embarrassed. "Well, actually I just got out of school a year ago. I'm working on my first freelance saga now. And I haven't been through this part of the world before."
The second guard nodded. "Didn't pay much attention in Regional Affairs class, did we?"
"Uh, actually I didn't have to take that one," she said. "I was in the Honors Program, so that got me out of several of the core course requirements."
"Seven," came the reply from the guardroom.
"Okay, so eleven since sundown last night," said the first guard. "You want further back than that?"
Barbara blinked. "Um," she said.
"Any luck?" called Roderick, as the others rode up behind her.
"Uh, not really," she said, with a dazed expression on her face.
"What's the problem?" asked Stan.
"She asked how many girls tied to horses we've seen go by in the last day," the first guard offered. "It's been a light day, though. There've only been eleven since sundown last night."
"Okay," said Stan. "Was Erik the Goth one of them?"
"Not since my shift started, but you can check with the boss." The first guard turned around and called, "Hey, Boss. You want to bring the night shift's report out?"
An older, grizzled guard appeared with a half-inch stack of papers. "Yeah. What did you need to know about?"
"Wondered if one of the girls tied to a horse happened to be in the company of Erik the Goth," Stan said.
The guard captain shuffled through the papers. "Well, the shift guards didn't recognize them specifically, but there were two guys dressed in black, so it might have been one of them. One of them had just the woman tied to the horse, and the other had two women with him, a redhead who wasn't tied up and a brunette who was."
"The second one," Roderick confirmed. "That's the ones."
The captain nodded. "They stopped briefly and chatted with the guards, and the redheaded girl made some coffee. Then they headed east."
"East," Barbara confirmed. "Thanks, guys."
"Wait," Roderick said, frowning. "She stopped and made coffee? Is this someone you guys know?"
"Sounds like Peggy Jean," said the second guard. "She usually stops by and makes coffee for the morning shift, but I haven't seen her yet this morning."
"Oh, do you contract your coffeemaking out to her?" Roderick asked.
"No, we just tip her," said the captain. "And sometimes we get her to help out at events and such. You know, like the annual Sunnybrook town guards' meeting, which some fool keeps scheduling at 8:00 in the morning. We go through a lot of coffee there."
"I can imagine," Stan said, nodding.
"Speaking of which," Johnson commented, "we haven't slept in, oh, something like two days. Maybe we should stop at an inn here in town."
"I won't argue," said Stan.
"Come to think of it, neither will I," said Roderick. "But first, could you tell us where we could find Peggy Jean's house?"
It was early evening when a horse sped past von Himmel on the road, skidded to a stop, and galloped to catch up with him again. Von Himmel slowed his horse to let the other rider catch up, but stopped when he recognized the other man as Bob, one of the bridge guards he had hired. "What news, Bob?" he asked.
"Hi, Mr. Count, sir," Bob puffed. "Whew, I'm not so used to this galloping business. Anyway, I just came from the Abbey Road Bridge -- they were only half a mile from us, and they had a horse to spare. I wanted to bring you the news."
"Let me guess," von Himmel said drily. "The Paladin's group again, right?"
"Right. They caught us at the far end of the Coffee Haus bridge. We tried to stop them, sir, but they got us split up, and then they figured out how to defeat the trolls." He frowned thoughtfully. "That was actually pretty brilliant. I never would've thought of it. I'll have to remember it, though, next time I go over a trollbridge."
Von Himmel swatted angrily at a fly. "Well, so much for my idea of catching up to them before they cross the bridge. How much of a head start do they have now?"
"Well, it took me half an hour to get to Abbey Road Bridge, Mr. Count, sir, and then another four hours to catch up to you here. So it would take another four hours to get back, but in that four hours, they've gone four hours ahead of us, so that would be twelve hours ahead. Or -- wait, is it just eight? Hold on, let me think about that." Bob's eyebrows knit in concentration.
His horse, bored, wandered to the side of the road and started munching on some dry grasses.
"Never mind that," said von Himmel. "They're a bit ahead of us, but I should be able to catch up a little if I push my horse along and ride through the night. Very well. Thank you, Bob, for the report. It is much appreciated." He reached into his pouch, pulled out a gold coin, and flipped it to Bob. "I'll want you to resume your watch at the bridge. They're already across, but they may come back again; we never know. Our best bet is in hemming them in. Anything else I should know before I resume the road?"
Bob shrugged. "Just that -- well, it was the strangest thing, Mr. Count, sir. They just appeared out of the air, right in front of us, in broad daylight. I've never seen anything like it. They said they'd been in Faerie."
Von Himmel's face brightened. "Ah! Well, then, that is certainly good news for me. The prophecy said they would avoid one obstacle that way -- and only one."
"Why, yes, sir, it did. I actually did a research paper on that prophecy once, and you're absolutely correct on that. But there's actually something interesting --"
But von Himmel was paying no attention. "Thank you again, Bob, and I'll be seeing you again," he called as he wheeled his horse and took off at a gallop.
"-- about that," Bob finished. He sighed. "Oh well, horse. Come on, let's go." He tugged on the horse's reins, but the horse would not give up its meal so easily. "Horse. Come on. Hey, you with the horsehide. Let's go. Go go go." He tugged on the reins again, and finally sighed. "Okay, fine. Any time you're ready, then."
The peace of the evening -- or rather, as much of the peace as was still left after all the noise and bustle of the rather sizable army that had marched through it -- was interrupted by Sir Hugo's roaring voice. "Come out of there!" roared Sir Hugo, pounding on the heavy oaken doors of the castle of Erik the Goth.
"Sir," said his master-at-arms politely, "perhaps you had better move aside so we can begin our assault."
"Eh? Oh, yes, yes," muttered Sir Hugo, and then roared, "Let them have it! Take no prisoners!"
"First rank of bowmen, ready!" called the master-at-arms. "Take your aim!"
With that, the archers set their pitch-coated arrows alight and raised their bows. With a resounding thwock! five dozen arrows were loosed at once, and arched gracefully over the castle walls like a migrating flock of phoenix. A few scattered flashes of light were visible from the outside, showing where the arrows had impacted.
"Suppressive fire! Ready! And... fire at will!"
The first rank of archers had already readied their flaming arrows again, and loosed another volley. The second and third rank of archers lined up behind them and started in with the non-flaming suppressive shots, which began to rain in almost constantly on the besieged castle.
"Bring in the siege towers!"
Without a break in the rain of suppressive fire and the periodic volleys of flaming pitch, another group of soldiers wheeled in three massive siege engines, their huge wooden wheels squeaking and creaking loudly in the night, forming an odd harmony to counterpoint the music of the whistling arrows.
"Ready the battering ram!"
Sir Hugo, who had retreated to his tent back behind the battle lines, watched in curious puzzlement, his head cocked to one side. "What's wrong?" he said to Giles, his captain of the guard. "Why aren't they fighting back? This is looking like it's going to be a downright boring afternoon."
Giles shrugged uncomfortably. "They're probably just staying out of the way of the suppressive fire, and readying their boiling oil," he said. "Things will get more interesting, I'm sure."
The siege engines continued to creak their way toward the castle walls. The twenty big, burly guards in the battering-ram contingent were hauling the massive, iron-capped ram by its crossbar handles and attaching it to its fire-and-oilproof, protective housing, and preparing to wheel it up to the gates. Arrows continued to whistle into the air.
"Shouldn't something be burning?" Sir Hugo wondered aloud. "We do keep firing flaming arrows, you know. Isn't that so we can set fire to things? I'd always wondered about that, but I can't imagine what else they'd be for."
"Oh, yes, sir," Giles assured him. "You are correct; their purpose is to set fire to the enemy's walkways, Great Hall, any wooden or straw rooftops inside his castle, that sort of thing."
"Mmm," mused Sir Hugo. "And yet nothing's burning."
"Well, I do believe I see a flicker here and there," Giles said, pointing to an area in the left front corner, where a few flickers of flame could indeed be seen in the fading light of the day.
"Ah, yes," Sir Hugo nodded, squinting at the reflected flickers, as the siege engines neared the walls and the guards began to wheel the battering ram's housing toward the gates. "But, just in case, perhaps we'd better hold off on the fire-breathing dragons for a few more minutes."
"Certainly, my lord." Giles nodded to a messenger, who rushed to take the order to the front lines.
"Although, of course," Hugo continued, "it would be a shame not to use them. It cost a fair amount of money to rent those dragons for the day, after all. How much was it, Tomathy?"
Tomathy, his treasurer, blinked and recited, "One thousand eight hundred and forty-six gold pieces, including tax, titles, tolls, and the optional liability rider."
"Yes, quite a fair amount. We won't hold them in reserve for long, but... well, is there even anyone there? Giles, how large of a standing army does Erik keep in his employ?"
"Uh, that's something that I don't know off the top of my head, my lord. I'll check with the Chief of Military Espionage and report back to you immediately." He headed back into the maze of tents.
The first of the siege towers reached the walls and extended its ramp onto the castle's battlements, and troops were just about to start streaming across and into the castle, when a resounding cry echoed across the landscape: "You foul villain! You'll pay for this!"
The archers paused in their bombardment; the guards with the battering ram stopped where they were; the soldiers atop the siege towers paused. All of them turned and looked at the master-at-arms for guidance.
He, in turn, turned around and looked at Sir Hugo for guidance.
"I'm curious," Sir Hugo said to the nearest messenger. "Tell the men to pause so I can see who approaches."
The messenger scrambled forward, picked up a blue flag from an array of color, and waved it back and forth twice through a wide arc.
Galloping hoofbeats drew closer, and suddenly a rider on a huge, gleaming, very expensive-looking horse rounded the bend in the road, spotted the army, and reined his horse in to a sudden halt.
Both sides stood in silence for a long moment.
Finally, the rider called out, "Um... hello. Perhaps I'm in the wrong place? I'm looking for the castle of Erik the Goth."
The master-at-arms strode forward. "Yes, this is the castle of Erik the Goth."
"Oh," the rider said, glancing at the castle, then again at the army. "Um... so are you Erik?"
A smile stole across the master-at-arms' face. "No, sir, I am not. He is most certainly not among those of us out here. We are besieging his home and castle, until he gives up the Lady Gisella. Perhaps not even then, as our lord and master has indicated that no prisoners are to be taken."
"Ooh," said the rider, his face brightening, "a siege! My, you picked a nice day for it."
The master-at-arms glanced back toward the tents. Sir Hugo raised one hand in the air. "If it pleases you, sir," he said to the rider, "it seems my master wishes to speak with you."
"Eh? Oh, certainly!" The rider leapt off his horse, and handed the reins to the groom who scampered up. Then he strode toward Sir Hugo, escorted by the master-at-arms.
"Well, my fellow!" Sir Hugo said, when they had come close enough to speak. "It sounds as if you also have business with my neighbor Erik!"
"So it would seem," the visitor said. He stuck out his hand. "Allow me to introduce myself, lord. I am Calvin the Bold."
Sir Hugo shook the offered hand heartily. "How do you do, my good man. My name is Sir Hugo the Mad."
Calvin the Bold almost choked when he heard the name, but glanced around at the army and forced a smile. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."
"Would you care to join me and watch the proceedings?" asked Sir Hugo.
"A fabulous suggestion," agreed Calvin the Bold. A page hurried forward with a folding chair, and the two archrivals settled in to enjoy the show.
Sir Hugo made a cutting motion in the air with his hand, and the attack began anew. The suppressive fire resumed, aimed carefully so as not to strike the warriors on the siege engines. Volley after volley of flaming arrows were released. Fighters streamed out of the siege towers and onto the castle's ramparts. The battering ram crept forward and finally reached the gates, and a rhythmic boom, boom, boom began to resound across the battlefield.
Then someone inside the gates called out. The battering ram paused, and the castle's front gates creaked open. A very puzzled-looking fighter poked his head out. "There's nobody in here," he called out to Sir Hugo.
A messenger scurried forward to speak with the soldier and get his report. Just at that moment, Giles returned. "Ah, milord," he said, wringing his hands. "It seems we may have... miscalculated just a bit."
"Just a bit, eh?" Sir Hugo harrumphed. "And exactly which bit might that be?"
"Ah, well, it appears that Erik does not actually employ any standing armies at all. Neither does he have any servants, cooking staff, or even gardeners. I talked to a witness who has actually seen Erik in the market, doing his own shopping. He doesn't even have any houseguests that we know of."
"Hmm," grunted Sir Hugo. "Well, this was a waste of a perfectly good morning, then. What a shame." He turned to his chancellor, and said, "Perhaps we should consider putting those sewage overflow ponds here after all."
The messenger rushed back from the gates, and stood before Sir Hugo, panting. "The soldiers say that there doesn't appear to be anyone in there at all, sir," he said. "They're conducting a thorough search now, but it appears that the place is deserted at the moment."
Sir Hugo sighed and rested his head on his hand. "How boring," he said. "Well, are we at least going to see a good fire going here?"
The messenger shook his head. "No, sir. The castle is all stone construction, no wood at all. The only things that are burning are the arrows that have piled up from the suppressive fire."
"So no point in sending out the dragons, then," Sir Hugo said.
"I can't see any point in it, no, sir," the messenger said.
"Oh, very well, then. Send out the trackers. Bring in the hounds. Fetch fresh horses from the stables. We ride after him at once."
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