Last Battle of the Icemark (34 page)

Medea gave a scream of rage and sent out an explosion of fire, adding further to the flames that were slowly gaining a hold in the building.

“Though if one is to be totally honest about all of this,” the Queen continued conversationally, “there's one area of magical ability where you must excel to a level even greater than that of your father.”

“Oh, do tell,” Medea sneered. “I'm all agog for a bloodsucker's praise.”

“Simple really: mind-shielding. You've obviously managed to keep your intentions to invade the Icemark and Physical Realms completely secret. Something I find quite remarkable,
especially as I know you've confronted the Witchfather and he must have probed your thoughts for information. All I can say is, well done, your shielding must be exceptionally brilliant; we all know, don't we, that if Oskan had been aware of your intentions he'd have been waiting for you and blasted your army to ash just as soon as you'd set foot on the Icemark's soil.”

“For once your judgement is sound, leech-woman,” Medea replied. “And by the time he finds out we'll be so well established in his pathetic little kingdom, he'll have no chance of driving us out.”

“Well, that's certainly debateable,” Her Vampiric Majesty said calmly. “But rather a moot point really, because I intend to ensure that you and your army of loathsome demons never become ‘established', as you put it.”

Both Adepts laughed contemptuously, and the Ice Demons rolled forward into battle once more as Cronus sent them against the Vampire squadron.

The roar of the resumed fighting mingled with that of the fire which was now leaping from furnishings and up into the rafters and beams of the roof. Ironically, the simple elemental power of the fire seemed to present more of a threat to the Queen and her squadron than the combined Gifts of the two Adepts. But then Cronus drew on the elements and materials to hand, and a swirling vortex of power exploded into the hall as he fashioned a giant snake that coiled and snapped at the Vampires with long fangs like swords. Her Vampiric Majesty may have been able to shield herself and her warriors from the direct effects of magic, but she had no defences against the physical fighting abilities of magically conjured creatures.

The huge snake swallowed two of the Vampires and
crushed a third in its coils, which were constructed from granite and fire. Medea immediately seized on this chance to strike back at the arrogant Queen, and conjured a giant ravening wolf that attacked the Undead fighters and tore off their heads in its crushing jaws. The two Adepts now constructed more and more of the magical creatures, drawing on the very fabric of the city itself to make their bodies, until the Great Hall was filled with snakes and wolves, eagles and dragons that fell on the Vampires in an ecstasy of killing.

The tide of battle had now turned, and though the Undead squadron fought on with stubborn valour, eventually Her Vampiric Majesty gave the order to withdraw. The entire squadron then leaped into flight, and powered away through the hole they'd made in the roof when they'd first entered. But not before each and every one of the giant bats had emptied their bladders onto the enemy below to show just what they thought of them and their much-vaunted Abilities.

Thirrin led her warriors along the Eppian Way and into the city. Soon they were approaching the hard-fought position from which Cressida had led the defence of the streets, and all along the top of the makeshift barricade the mixed defenders cheered as their comrades approached. The long spears of the pike regiments stood like a winter thicket of trees, and the housecarles beat sword and axe on shield in salute.

Cressida, Andronicus and Leonidas climbed down to stand before Thirrin's horse, where they drew their swords in salute. “Welcome to the liberated city of Romula, Your Majesty,” said General Andronicus. “Its freedom is owed to your strategy and to your sword.”

Thirrin nodded her acknowledgement, but then said, “The
freedom of Romula is owed to the Alliance, General Andronicus. An Alliance that includes the fighting skills and bravery of many thousands of Polypontian soldiers.”

A cheer rose up from the barricade at these words, and then, at a signal from Cressida, the soldiers climbed down from their position and drew aside the barrier. The combined army now made its way along the Eppian Way, where the survivors of the civilian population had slowly gathered from their hiding places as news of the unexpected victory had flowed through the city.

Rumours of the approach of the ‘Barbarian Queen' ran through the waiting crowds that lined the road, and her flaming red hair was greeted with as much awe as the spectacle of the giant Snow Leopards, werewolves and Vampires. Beside her rode her daughter, and as both had removed their helmets their hair seemed to lead the procession of the army like twin torches.

“I hear you and Leonidas led your troops with distinction,” said Thirrin as the cheers washed over them. “Fighting side by side, I'm told.”

Cressida blushed, as did Leonidas, who was riding beside her. “The flow of battle merely took us in the same direction. It's pure coincidence that we were at each other's side for the duration of the fighting.”

“And what excuse do you have now?” asked Thirrin, unable to resist the temptation to tease.

“Perhaps I should . . . you know . . . go and lead my old command of . . . you know . . . cavalry,” said Leonidas.

“You'll do no such thing, Commander,” said Krisafitsa-Tharina, who'd been listening to every word. “Queen Thirrin is merely enjoying her own little joke. Aren't you, my dear?”

“Absolutely. I'm enjoying it immensely.”

“Stay where you are, boy!” boomed Grishmak. “Things could start getting interesting later on, if you see what I mean!” and he winked hugely.

Tharaman caught Leonidas's cloak in his massive jaws as the commander almost fell from his horse, and then gently nudged him back into his saddle. “Steady on, Grishy! You know humans are a little less
earthy
than we are about these matters. And this pair are even more delicate than most.”

“Eh? Oh, call a spade a spade, that's what I say. Come on, boy, what are you mucking about at? Get in there! Anyone can see she wants you!”

“Some of us prefer a little more romance in our wooing,” said Krisafitsa loftily. “We don't all see relationships as mere wrestling matches.”

“Don't we? Oh.”

Cressida, who was almost writhing with mortified embarrassment, could take no more and suddenly exploded, “Who's wooing anybody around here? And what does bloody ‘wooing' mean anyway?”

“Right! Who's . . . you know . . . wooing anybody?” Leonidas agreed, and then immediately regretted it.

“Well, it looks like wooing to me,” said Grishmak. “Not that I've ever had a woo myself. Sounds a bit too tame to me.”

“I've had a woo,” said Tharaman importantly. “Krisafitsa insists on it, don't you, my dear?”

“Have you?” asked Grishmak interestedly. “What's it like?”

“Bit tame, just as you thought,” said Tharaman quietly out of the corner of his mouth.

“Is it? Not like the usual sort of . . .?”

“That'll do, thank you,” said Krisafitsa. “I do believe we're approaching the palace precinct and a little more decorum is required.”

Thirrin unconsciously straightened her back and called a halt as the walls of the precinct came into view. Polypontian soldiers guarded the gates, their uniforms a pristine white that was emblazoned with the twin-headed Imperial Eagle. Here was the epicentre of the power that had sent two invasion forces against the Icemark; here sat the man who had controlled and manipulated the lives of literally millions of people when the Polypontian Empire was at the height of its powers. And now that the empire was dying, millions more had been killed in the wars and rebellions that had followed the breaking of the Emperor's iron grip. Thirrin shuddered imperceptibly as she gazed in silence at the precinct; if Scipio Bellorum in all his cold, unthinking evil had been the servant, then what sort of depraved malevolence must reside in the master; in the Emperor himself?

The time had come to face him. She was a warrior Queen, and head of the Alliance that had not only defeated the Imperial Legions twice, but had also saved Romula itself from destruction. Let him come on his knees in all his evil arrogance and bow in gratitude and obeisance before her! She urged her horse forward, Cressida, Tharaman, Grishmak and the rest of the Royal party falling in behind.

As they approached the gates, the Imperial guard levelled their spears and demanded she announce herself and await permission to enter. But Thirrin's pace never faltered, and after a moment's hesitation the soldiers fell back before her. The gates swung open silently and a wide garden opened up
before them. The beautiful pleasance of trees, lawns and fountains swept down to a graceful and towering building of white marble. Rightly assuming that this was the palace, Thirrin rode slowly towards it, her head held high so that the sunlight made her hair a blazing halo of fire.

The soldiers of the Imperial guard ran before her, calling out in Polypontian that the Barbarian Queen was approaching, and soon the steps of the palace was thronged with what looked like hundreds of servants and officials, all straining to catch sight of the fearsome legend and her Alliance of monsters. Thirrin and her comrades rode on until they were a matter of a few metres from the lair of the Emperor himself, then they reined to a halt and waited until eventually a party of old men scrambled forward to greet her.

They bowed as they ran, and smiled ingratiatingly, their long purple-and-white robes announcing their status as Senators. “Welcome, welcome, Your Majesty!” they called as they ran up. “Please do us the honour of dismounting, and the Emperor will receive you in due course, in the Great Audience Chamber!”

Thirrin glared down at them, barely able to contain her fury. “The Emperor will ‘receive' me nowhere! The Emperor will attend me here, and now, or my warriors will burn his audience chamber to the ground!”

Her voice cut clear and glittering through the air, like a razor through flesh, and a murmur ran through the officials who waited on the palace steps.

“Do not make the mistake of doubting my word, otherwise the ashes of the palace, and probably those of the Emperor himself, will serve as reminders of the weight of my meaning!”

Tharaman reared up, letting out a roar that smashed
against the graceful marble gleaming brilliantly in the sunshine. The senators took one look at the Barbarian Queen's blazing eyes and scrambled away, calling out that they would inform the Emperor of her wishes.

In the silence that followed, Thirrin stared rigidly ahead, while Tharaman and Krisafitsa gave each other a wash and Grishmak leaned against Thirrin's horse, scratching absently. Cressida and Leonidas took the opportunity to sit side by side, ostensibly ignoring each other, but in reality basking in each other's presence as though in front of a warm fire on a cold day.

For fully fifteen minutes the Royal party was kept waiting, and Thirrin was just considering riding her warhorse up the marble steps and into the palace itself when a sudden commotion at the top of a long, column-lined colonnade announced the arrival of a huge party of senators.

“Eh up, looks like business,” said Grishmak. Pushing himself upright, he stretched until the sinews in his mighty arms and legs cracked.

“Well, I can see Imperial lackeys, but no Emperor so far,” said Thirrin. “You've got the sharpest eyes here, Tharaman, what do you see?”

“Lots of old gents in those purple-and-white robe thingies. But no one else.”

“Right. If this is just another senatorial delegation, the palace goes up in smoke!”

Grishmak nodded grimly and signalled to a cavalry trooper. “Fetch torches and tinder – I think we're going to have a bonfire.”

As the soldier galloped off, the Royal party waited in silence as the procession of elderly senators wound its way
along the colonnade and down the flight of steps. They then set out across the wide sweep of lawn, all perfectly in step like a unit of geriatric infantry, and then at last came to a halt a few yards away from Thirrin's horse.

“You were warned that I would burn down—” Thirrin began angrily, but the most venerable of all the senators held up his hand commandingly.

“All hail his Imperial Majesty of the mighty Polypontian Empire. His lands stretch from the frozen wastes of the north to the burning deserts of the south, from the mountains and forests of the east to the mighty oceans of the west. His navies rule wave and tide, his sky-ships patrol the heavens, his legions' tread is thunder, and his will is life and death to all his subjects! All hail Titus Augustus Domitian Julianus, Divine and Imperial Majesty and Lord of all he surveys!”

A deathly hush fell upon the scene, and then the ranks of senators parted to reveal the Emperor himself.

A small boy in purple robes stood before them, and then an elderly servant took his hand and led the boy to stand before Thirrin's horse. The wide Imperial hat hid his features, but suddenly he took it off and scratched his head, making his hair stand in tufts.

“I said it would make me too hot, Silvanus. Here, you have it.”

The servant fumbled to take the hat, visibly shaking before the red-haired monarch, but the boy smiled brightly and squinted up at the imposing figure before him. “Are you the Barbarian Queen? You've got a really lovely horse – what's his name?”

“Havoc,” Thirrin replied quietly, her mind in turmoil. She wanted to hate the Emperor of the undeniably evil
Polypontian Empire, but how could she hate a little boy? Could she really convince herself that he was a monster who was responsible for so many deaths?

“Can I sit on him?”

“You might find him a little lively, I'm afraid.”

“Oh, all right,” the Emperor replied, his voice brimming with disappointment. “Will he let me stroke him?”