The Hidden City

walled Cyrga. ‘They’re obviously willing to sacrifice the lower city,’ he said. ‘Otherwise that outer wall would be defended by Cyrgai. The fact that they’ve turned that chore over to the Cynesgans means that they don’t place much value on those warehouses and slave-pens. The wall at the foot of “Mount Cyrgon” will be more fiercely defended, and if necessary, they’ll pull back up the hill to that last wall that encloses the palace and the temple.’
    ‘All of this is well and good, Bevier,’ Kalten interrupted him, but where are Ehlana and Alcan?’
    Bevier gave him a surprised look. ‘Up on top, of course,’ he replied, ‘either in the palace or in the temple.’
    ‘How did you arrive at that?’
    ‘They’re hostages, Kalten. When you’re holding hostages, you have to keep them close enough to threaten them when your enemies get too close. Our problem is how to get into the city.’
    ‘We’ll come up with something,’ Sparhawk said confidently. ‘Let’s go back into the woods a ways and set up for the night.’
    They moved back among the trees and ate cold rations, since a fire was out of the question.
    ‘The problem’s still there, Sparhawk,’ Kalten said as evening settled over the hidden valley. ‘How are we going to get inside all those walls?’
    ‘The first wall’s easy,’ Talen said. ‘We just walk in through the gate.’
    ‘How do you propose to do that without being challenged?’ Kalten demanded.
    ‘People walk out of the city every morning and back again every evening, don’t they?’
    ‘Those are slaves.’
    ‘Exactly.’
    Kalten stared at him.
    ‘We want to get into the city, don’t we? That’s the easiest way.’
    ‘What about the other walls?’ Bevier objected.
    ‘One wall at a time, Sir Knight,’ Talen said gaily, ‘one wall at a time. Let’s get through the outer one first. Then we’ll worry about the other two.’
    Daiya the Peloi came riding hard back across the gravelly desert about mid-morning the next day. ‘We’ve found them, your Reverence,’ he reported to Bergsten as he reined in. ‘The Cynesgan cavalry tried to lead us away from where they’re hiding, but we found them anyway. They’re in those hills just ahead of us.’
    ‘More of those big ones with masks on their faces?’ Heldin asked.
    ‘Some of those, friend Heldin,’ Daiya replied. ‘But there are others as well—wearing old-fashioned helmets and carrying spears.’
    ‘Cyrgai,’ Bergsten grunted. ‘Vanion mentioned them. Their tactics are so archaic that they won’t be much of a problem.’
    ‘Where exactly are they, friend Daiya?’ Heldin asked.
    ‘They’re in a large canyon on the east side of those hills, friend Heldin. My scouts saw them from the canyon-rim.’
    ‘We definitely don’t want to go into that canyon after them, your Grace,’ Heldin cautioned. ‘They’re infantry, and close quartors are made to order for their tactics. We’ll have to devise some way to get them to come out into the open.’
    Atana Maris asked Neran a question in Tamul, and he replied at some length. She nodded, spoke briefly to him, and then she ran off toward the south.
    ‘Where’s she going?’ Bergsten demanded.
    ‘She said that your enemies have laid a trap for you, your Grace,’ Neran replied with a shrug. ‘She’s going to go spring it.’
    ‘Stop her, Heldin!’ Bergsten said sharply.
    It must be said in Sir Heldin’s defense that he did try to catch up to the lithe, fleet-footed Atan girl, but she merely glanced back over her shoulder, laughed, and ran even faster, leaving him far behind, flogging at his horse and muttering curses.
    Bergsten’s curses were not muttered. He blistered the air around him. ‘What is she doing?’ he demanded of Neran.
    ‘They’re planning an ambush, your Grace,’ Neran replied calmly. ‘It won’t work if somebody sees them hiding in that canyon. Atana Maris is going to run into the canyon, let them see her, and then run out again. They’ll have to try to catch her. That’ll bring them out into the open. You might want to give some thought to picking up your pace just a bit. She’ll be terribly disappointed in you if you’re not in position when she leads them out.’
    Patriarch Bergsten looked out across the desert at the golden Atana running smoothly to the south with her long black hair flying behind her. Then he swore again, rose up in his stirrups, and bellowed, ‘Charge!’
    Ekrasios and his comrades reached