Hell's Gate

The guard's jaw muscles clenched, but he gave a stiff nod.

"As you wish, Magister. I'll leave the door open." And I'll watch them like a gryphon looking for a meal, his eyes and body language virtually shouted.

Gadrial held those hard, dangerous eyes for a moment, then nodded and followed Jasak into the corridor. A moment later, they were outside, where the stiff sea breeze ruffled her hair and carried her the clean scent of salt water while afternoon sunlight poured golden across the open parade ground. Then she noticed the gates; they were closed. The massive wooden locking beam had been dropped into its brackets, and sharp-eyed sentries ma

What in hell had happened?

Jasak walked beside her in total silence, nearly as ramrod-straight as the sword at his hip. She studied his profile, trying to understand the complex emotions seething just below the surface of the rigidly formal mask his face and voice had become. There wasn't time to decipher it, though, before they had crossed the parade ground and entered the fort's central administrative block.

Sarr Klian's clerk practically leapt from his chair, coming to attention with a sharply snapped salute.

"Sir! The Five Hundred is waiting for you, Sir!"

The one, quick look the clerk shot at Gadrial left her insides quaking, and then Jasak rapped sharply on the five hundred's door.

"Enter!" Klian's voice called almost instantly, and Jasak opened the door, holding it for her as he gestured her into the room ahead of him. She started forward, then caught sight of Chief Sword Threbuch and the company's hummer handler, waiting for them.

"Chief Sword!" she cried, smiling and hurrying forward to grasp his hands in sudden delight. "We were so worried about you! I'm so glad you made it back safely."

The tall, powerfully built North Shalomarian was visibly taken aback by her greeting. His normally immaculate uniform was filthy, she realized, and his face was heavily stubbled. It was also gaunter and thi

"What's wrong?" Her voice was sharp, urgent. "Something dreadful's happened, hasn't it?"

Pain flared deep in Threbuch's eyes. His jaw tightened, but he didn't speak. He just turned back toward the five hundred and waited for Fort Rycharn's commandant to answer her terrified question.

"Magister Kelbryan," Klian said in a heavy, almost exhausted voice. "Please sit down. Please," he repeated.

He's afraid I'm going to collapse when he finally tells me what's going on, she realized with a pang of icy dread.

"It's Magister Halathyn, isn't it?" she whispered as she sank into the chair opposite the five hundred's desk. "Something's happened to Magister Halathyn."

The officer's eyes actually flinched. Then he drew a deep breath.

"Hundred Olderhan," he began, "urged me to recall our forces from the swamp portal to minimize the risk of another violent confrontation between our forces and Shaylar and Jathmar's people." He cleared his throat. "I should have listened, but I thought the risk was far less than it actually was. I also hoped?assumed?that any powerful military response on their part would take much longer to mount. But the Chief Sword has confirmed Magister Halathyn vos Dulainah's belief?and yours?that the portal our prisoners came through was at least a class at seven. In fact, it's almost certainly a class eight, judging from the Chief Sword's reco

Gadrial's breath caught savagely.

"It appears to be understrength, still under construction," Klian continued. "But the Chief Sword watched the arrival of a relief column which had evidently moved ahead by forced march. They had more of those weapons you and the Hundred here, encountered. And other weapons, as well, with tubes that were?"

He glanced at Threbuch.

"How large again, Chief?"

"They were about six feet long, Sir," Threbuch replied. "Looked like they were probably four and a half or five inches across, with fairly thin walls. They had four of the damned things covering my aspect of portal, but according to Javelin Shulthan here, there were at least two or three more covering the other aspect. And they had something else, too. I don't know what to call it. It was another tube, shorter and not as big across, mounted on a tripod, almost like an infantry-dragon. But it wasn't a dragon. It had a … crank on the side, and a long belt of those cylinder things we found at their camp went into it. When they turned the crank?" He swallowed, his lips tight. "It was like those shoulder weapons of theirs, Sir," he said, turning to look directly at Jasak. "But instead of firing just one shot at a time, it fired again and again, so fast together that it sounded like one, long, single shot. It must've fired hundreds of times a minute, Sir."

He stopped speaking abruptly, and a line of sweat trickled down his brow.

He saw it used, Gadrial realized, going even colder.

"They attacked the portal." Her voice was a thread. "Our portal?didn't they?"

"They did." Five Hundred Klian gave her a jerky nod. Harsh, full of pain and anger. "After asking?asking by name, mind?for Shaylar."

Gadrial's breath hissed and she paled as she instantly recognized what he was implying. If they'd asked specifically for Shaylar, did that mean they somehow knew she'd survived the initial battle? It must! But if they did …

She turned to stare at Jasak.

"How? My God, how could they have gotten a message out? Your men searched for any sign of a ru

"Yes," Jasak said through clenched teeth. "We searched?damned thoroughly. No messenger went out, unless he went up the river before he headed for their portal. But however it happened, they got a message through … somehow. And somehow damned quick, too. According to the Chief, here, the head of their initial scouting column passed him long before anyone could have gotten back to their portal on foot to summon them even if they did manage to get a ru

Gadrial touched her own cheek with fingers which had gone icy chill.

"But that's?" She broke off. Clearly, it wasn't impossible, since they'd obviously done it. "They must have something like hummers," she said instead, aware her intellect was grasping at straws, seeking any excuse, any distraction, to avoid hearing the rest of the doom they were about to pronounce.

"Something," Klian agreed. "And we're hoping you can find out what. Shaylar, at least, seems to trust you, to a certain degree. If you can find out how they warned their people, you'll give us information that will save lives. Possibly a lot of lives. We need every advantage we can possibly get to deal with their people, Magister, because they've just demonstrated a frankly devastating military superiority.

"Granted," he added in a harsh voice, "we made mistakes which made it even worse. I did, for example, when I failed to listen to Hundred Olderhan's warning, and Hundred Thalmayr made several serious mistakes of his own that proved costly. At least one of those was probably my fault, too, because I'm the one who ordered him to position himself on our side of portal. I intended that to apply only to his fortifications and main position, not to his sentries. It's standard procedure to picket both sides of any contested portal in a threat situation, and I expected him to follow SOP in applying my orders. Apparently, however, he interpreted my instructions to mean he was to do otherwise."