Shroud of Eternity

CHAPTER 5

Hearing the name of the almost-mythical city, Nathan felt a thrill of wonder and excitement. Ildakar! Gooseflesh prickled his skin, and he realized he was grinning like a young lad facing the prospect of more candy than he had ever imagined.

“Ildakar … from the legends of ages past?” He looked at the three young men with much greater interest than he had at first accorded them. “It’s said to be a wondrous metropolis.”

“Our fine and perfect society has endured for thousands of years,” Amos said with a sniff. “But Ildakar is not a legend—it is our home.”

“Then where is it?” Nicci asked with more skepticism than wonder. “We glimpsed a city from high in the mountains, but the plain is empty.”

“Except for all those statue warriors…” Bannon added.

Amos, Jed, and Brock laughed at a private joke that no one else understood. “Our city is right there at the edge of the uplift—protected behind the shroud. Don’t underestimate the wizards of Ildakar.”

Burning questions crowded in Nathan’s throat, and he followed the young men as they wandered out of the charred oak grove. Amos swung his iron-tipped stick as he walked along, bashing dead twigs out of his way. They emerged from the woods into the open chaparral, strolling down the grassy hills. Together, Jed and Brock made a game out of smacking the tops of the thistle trees, scattering feathery petals and sharp thorns. The youths seemed carefree and aimless, in no hurry to get back to Ildakar, despite Nathan’s obvious intensity.

The former wizard let his imagination run wild, and he looked at Nicci, exchanging silent questions. He couldn’t stop smiling, sure that he would find his answers after all. Ildakar was said to be a bastion of innovative magic from ages past, filled with powerfully gifted men and women. If the city had defeated—petrified?—the talented General Utros before disappearing into the fog of myth, surely they had the resources to restore his lost gift. Exactly as the witch woman had said.

He let his hopes soar, and he tried to sound avuncular. “I would love to hear more of an explanation, lads. I spent centuries in the Palace of the Prophets, up at the northern boundary of the Old World. Perhaps you’ve heard of it? The palace was built thousands of years ago. No? Ah, well. The palace is gone now anyway. I studied all the histories, especially recountings of the Midwar.” He nodded sagely, then paused to see if they had any reaction. “Ildakar features prominently in that history, you know.”

The three young men did not seem overly interested. He couldn’t even tell if they were listening to him.

Bannon tried to keep up with the strangers, as if hoping to find kindred spirits in the young men his own age. “The wizard Nathan told us about Emperor Kurgan and his iron fang.” He spread his lips and tapped his left canine tooth with a fingertip. “And how General Utros tried to lay siege to Ildakar, and the silver dragon they captured to use as a weapon, but it broke free and attacked them … before the city vanished.” His words came out in a rush.

Nathan appreciated the enthusiasm, but he wished Bannon would contain himself until they knew more. He interjected, catching up to Amos, “Yes, lads—how did you three escape?”

“Escape? We came out of the city when the shroud flickered,” Amos answered. “As the wizards test their bloodworking, it’s due to disappear again soon. No need for us to hurry. We’ll have plenty of time to get back.”

Brock decapitated a dry thistle, sending puffs of feathery seeds into the air, while Jed thrashed through the grasses, chasing after a rustling sound that might have been a snake or a rabbit.

Nathan looked over his shoulder at the burned patch in the hills behind them, wondering if he would see Mrra following, but the sand panther had disappeared into the sparse chapparal. He wondered why she was more worried about these three aloof young men than the horrific bear monster or the raging forest fire. These youths did not seem to pose any threat.

Nicci plucked persistent burrs from her black skirt. “The city we glimpsed from the pass shimmered like a mirage. It seemed unnatural.”

“It’s magic,” Amos said. “Depending on the strength of the shroud, Ildakar winks in and out of existence, in and out of time. The shroud goes up and down as the wizards try to hold the ancient spells. My friends and I are out here exploring because we had the chance to do so.”

“It lets us get our revenge on the enemy soldiers,” Brock said, swinging his iron-tipped club viciously through the prickly stem of a thistle. “A few at a time.”

“I hope the city reappears soon,” Jed said. “We’ve been out here three days, camping and wandering. I could use a good bath and a decent meal. Pack food leaves much to be desired.”

Amos gave a sly grin. “I thought you’d be more anxious to visit the silk yaxen.”

His two companions laughed hungrily. Brock added, “Keeper’s crotch! I’d want to be clean and rested before expending all that energy.”

“As long as the girls are clean and rested. That’s what matters most to me,” Jed said.

“What’s a silk yaxen?” Bannon asked.

The youths gave him a withering glance. “Maybe we’ll show you someday.”

Together, they waded down the slopes through grasses and weeds. Not needing to hide from the enormous army, they made good time. Once they reached the plain filled with thousands of statue soldiers, Nathan stared at the motionless ranks. The stone figures were everywhere, flash-frozen in the midst of their normal activities while prosecuting a major war … a war that had never reached Ildakar.

They came upon a group of four cavalry riders, their massive destriers wearing full battle gear. Nathan recognized the ornate components of equine armor, the chanfron to protect the horse’s head and face, the crinet for the neck, the peytral for the sides and flanks. Worked into the metal and leather was the stylized-flame symbol of Emperor Kurgan. The right foreleg of one of the warhorses was upraised as if the mount bounded off in a gallop, but now the statue stood precariously balanced.

The soldiers astride the destriers wore exotic antique armor, which gave them a fearsome appearance: large padded helmets with a crest above the forehead, a nose guard and sweeping pointed chin guards, a smooth metal cuirass covering their chests, lapped leather thigh guards worked with metal disks for extra protection. They held curved swords upraised, ready for a charge. Their round shields were also emblazoned with Kurgan’s flame.

Bannon paused to admire the statue cavalry. “They must have been riding out on a sortie.”

Amos pressed both hands against the stone horse with the raised foreleg. “Help me with this.” Jed and Brock joined him without question, and Amos looked at Bannon. “You can pitch in, too. We’ll let you.”

Unsure, Bannon took his place next to the three youths. “What are we doing?” All four of them planted their hands against the stone horse.

“Doing our part to fight the old war.” Amos and his friends pushed, making the stone horse wobble. Bannon’s uncertain assistance did little.

Nathan expressed his biting disapproval. “That’s a historical artifact, lads. You shouldn’t—”

“It’s an enemy soldier.” Amos gritted his teeth, and his cheeks flushed with the strain. With a final heave, they tipped over the stone horse and rider. The heavy statue crashed to the ground, breaking the horse’s foreleg and cracking the statue soldier in half.

The young men stepped back, congratulating themselves. “Only about a hundred thousand more to go,” Jed said, and sauntered onward.

They moved through the large, silent camp, where innumerable ancient warriors were frozen in the midst of frenetic activity. Many of the statues wore armor, ready to fight. Two burly men stood with gauntleted arms crossed over their chests like implacable guardians, apparently standing watch.

“Why are there no tents or banners?” Bannon asked.

Nathan realized the answer. “Any such things would have decayed over the centuries. Even if the soldiers themselves turned to stone, the other trappings rotted away long ago.”

He shaded his eyes in the bright afternoon, scanning across the tableau. Ten fossilized warriors sprawled in a circle on the ground where weeds and grasses had grown up around them. From their positions and state of undress, he surmised they had been at camp, sleeping around a fire, covered with no-longer-existent blankets. Others squatted nearby, arms extended toward the center of the circle, as if they had been holding sticks, roasting meat over flames.

One man stood with his hands at his crotch, gazing toward the ground, preserved in the act of urinating. Amos and his companions found this intensely amusing, and they used their iron-tipped staffs to batter away at the stone hands and pulverize his petrified manhood.

They came to a clearing among the fossilized soldiers, perhaps a place where a large supply tent had disintegrated with time, leaving an unoccupied area. “Here’s a good place to make camp,” Amos said, then looked at Bannon. “Did you bring supplies?”

“I hope you have decent food,” Jed added. “And enough to share.”

Nicci gave them all a hard look. “You should have prepared better for your expedition.”

Amos frowned at the criticism, but Nathan shrugged out of his pack. “We have food. Happy to share.” He undid the strings and opened it to reveal the spell-preserved venison steaks they had carved from one of Mrra’s recent kills.

The strangers gave appreciative grins. “Fresh meat sounds good,” Brock said.

Working together, they gathered armfuls of dead weeds, grass stalks, and fallen branches. Nathan laid out a circle of stones he collected, and the Ildakaran youths piled the debris in the center without finesse.

Looking at the unruly heap, Bannon bent down, getting to work. “Building a fire takes a little more skill than that. Dry grass, then twigs for kindling, with larger branches built up around it.”

Amos rolled his deep brown eyes. “Why bother?” With a gesture, he released a flicker of his gift and ignited the piled debris. The crackling grass and twigs quickly built into a healthy fire.

“Or, I suppose that would be faster,” Bannon muttered. Nicci also usually started their campfires.

As dusk fell, they roasted meat and hunkered down to eat, but Nathan’s attempts to elicit further conversation resulted in few details. Adding their part to the dinner, the young men pulled out honeyed wafers and dense grain cakes from their packs, sharing them. Nathan found them to be flavorful, but the young men claimed they were tired of eating the stuff.

As the darkness deepened, Nathan gazed across the sweeping expanse, which reminded him of the Azrith Plain in D’Hara. The open grassy prairie extended to the steep drop-off at the river that bisected the vast plain, and even the immense open space seemed barely large enough to contain the countless soldiers that had come to conquer Ildakar.

Taking a second honeyed wafer, Nathan gestured with his chin toward the distant river. “That looks like an extreme uplift. Normally, a river like that would have carved a wide valley, but it seems to have cut the plain like an axe. Those are enormous cliffs above the water.”

“It didn’t happen by accident,” Amos said, licking venison grease from his fingers. “In order to defend Ildakar, the wizards’ duma combined their magic to raise this side of the plain, lifting it up like a giant swatch of sod hundreds of feet above the Killraven River. The sheer bluffs prevent any attacks from the water.”

“Only fools would attack Ildakar,” said Brock, chewing on his blackened meat. He plucked a lump of gristle from his mouth and inspected it between thumb and forefinger before flicking it off into the grasses. “General Utros and his army learned that lesson.”

“How can anyone attack the city if they can’t find it?” Nicci asked. “Where did Ildakar go?”

“That was part of our genius,” Amos said, without elaborating further.

As night insects in the grasses set up a soothing chorus of songs, Nathan pondered what he knew from legends and history. If the wizards of Ildakar could do such astonishing things, surely they could help him recover his gift.

First, though, they had to solve the mystery of the vanishing city.

* * *

The next day, long after sunrise, they set off across the plain, wandering among the petrified soldiers. At random times, the three young men found stone warriors that caught their attention. One squatting man with his stone trousers around his stone knees had fallen over onto the ground when the latrine he was using had weathered into dust. Amos and his friends broke that statue into pieces.

They targeted particularly fierce-looking warriors, stone men who looked hungry to conquer Ildakar. Amos and his friends used their iron clubs to batter the eyes, noses, and mouths, leaving the faces chipped and featureless, which they found hilarious.

After all he had read about the glory of Ildakar, Nathan was disappointed in their attitude. He surveyed the countless figures that covered the open plain. “I suppose General Utros is one of these statues. It would be be intriguing to find him, just to look upon his features—for the sake of history.”

“How would we know who he is?” Bannon frowned at the broken statue the others had just smashed. “These warriors wear no identifying badges.”

“Dear boy, I assume that if we looked long enough, we could find one with a general’s garb or armor, probably near the center of camp in a command tent.” Nathan brushed the front of the ruffled shirt he had worn since leaving Cliffwall. “But there would be no tent left after all these years, alas … no tables, no remnants of charts, no banners.”

Nicci looked ahead at the distant river and the sheer cliff drop-off. “If your wizards were so powerful, why were they afraid? Uplifting half the plain, tearing the landscape to create huge cliffs above the river—that is not an act of confidence.”

“It was a demonstration of our invincibility,” Amos said. “The Killraven River brought trade from distant lands, but as times grew darker it also brought foolish invaders who sought to conquer the city, so the wizards created the high bluffs and dragged the river closer. They reshaped the landscape like a potter manipulates clay. Ildakar has stood for all this time, and we are stronger and greater than ever.”

With a grunt of effort, he shoved another stone soldier over, toppling it into the weeds.

As they approached the uplift that loomed above the river, Nathan wondered how they would ever descend to the water, if that was their destination. The boys refused to explain, and seemed to find Nathan’s persistent questions annoying.

When they were within a mile of the drop-off, in the heat of the afternoon, Nicci expressed her frustration, “So, where is this city?” Her black travel dress was flecked with tan seeds, burrs, and dry grass tips.

Amos said, “We’re in the right general place, but I don’t know exactly when the shroud will come down. There’s nothing we can do to hurry it.”

“We might have to camp again tonight.” Jed sounded disappointed. “I’d rather—”

As if some lookout from within the unseen city had spotted their approach, the air suddenly shimmered and changed. Nathan caught a sharp metallic tang in the air, as if lightning had struck nearby. A sizzling sound like millions of swarming gnats grew louder, and rose to a persistent drone that made his teeth rattle.

Then the expansive view of the empty plain dissolved, the air itself peeling away to reveal what had been hidden behind a camouflaged barrier.

When the shimmer faded, Nathan stared at the enormous and breathtaking city of Ildakar directly in front of them.