The King's army had done a workman-like job of securing the main street, and the flanking buildings of the cobbled lane featured boarded up doorways, with men posted at close intervals along the route. Most wore the half-grim, dead-eyed mien that seems to come in the aftermath of battle. Chord floated along beside me in his shiny black boots, lost in the same desolation as I. Thavis strolled grimly behind, pacing the clicking gait of Gort as it strode over the cobbles, burdened with the remaining black powder kegs, rope, and chain I had prepared at the Nublin village.

The army had won through to the front of the Ducal Compound quickly, where it now held siege. I allowed myself to run over my careful, and now useless, plan to end this atrocity. Blasting the walls with a massive charge of powder to clear the way, was out of order now, since the close tower might contain Dimanda. The presence of a demon...I remembered the glowing stare and interest of the last one I had confronted with Chord at his keep...also left me at a loss.

"Any ideas as to what can be done about the demon, Chord?"

The mage shrugged, brows furled. "It is as the Duke said. Best, would be trying to re-contain it, then banish it. Otherwise, it might be drained of the energy that sustains it here somehow, or just see what it wants--try to bargain with it, as it seems content to stay put, for some reason. Likely, we go to our deaths if we must face it. Better to try staying clear of it, somehow. The things are not omniscient. If it can be avoided, and if we can figure out why it stays there, perhaps there may be some way to deal with it."

"Then, is their some way to shield ourselves from it?"

Chord stopped and considered. "It's an idea. The barrier pentagram that contains them when we bargain would work just as well drawn around one of us; it would still be impassible to the creature. All that doesn't deal with the thing, though, it would just keep those contained within it safe"A thought struck me. "How much weight can those boots of yours bear? Do you have to wear them to work them?"

"Eh?" Chord glanced bemused at the footwear. "Why, as much weight as I wish, I suppose. The more weight they loft, the shorter the lifespan of them, of course. I have carried as much as forty pounds with them on occasion, though usually I would just call for help with any such load, obviously. The charm is on the soles of the boots, mostly. The mage ordering them must envision the material pushing away from anything beneath them, in an absolute manner and pulling forward to whatever extent required beyond the shanks. Both concepts must be held firmly in mind during the incantation..."

I interrupted Chord, asking "Yes but, do you have to wear them to control them?" Chord looked curiously at me. "No. I sometimes call them to me of a morning from across my bedroom, as it happens."

I nodded. "The diagram..."

"Pentagram," corrected Chord.

"Pentagram. Does it have to be inscribed on the earth, or can it be executed, say, on a platform?"

"Oh, I see your thought on this! Yes, that is possible. If we stayed inside the pentagram--"

"One scribed on a platform..."

"And floated on a few pairs of boots of leagues..."

"We would be proof against attack by the demon!"

Chord chuckled,as a man might who sees light dawning through the dark, and shook his head as we began walking again. "Brilliant, William. As long as the platform is small enough to pass the keep doors, we can at least confront the demon in safety. Veddek's keep has double doors, as I remember, so we could have an eight foot diameter platform. We could load it with eight men at arms with tower shields, yourself, me, another mage perhaps."

"Could we float a ...pentagram over it? Trap it?"

"No. Above or below, it matters not, but a Demon may not pass the plane of the Pentagram's warding circle. If they could, why, they would just dig their way out underneath them, wouldn't they? The things must be conjured within the wards or, unlikely as it may be, the wards drawn around them."

Well, I thought, it was an idea, anyway.

The street was emptying out into the block-wide plaza before the ducal seat. Men at arms bustled behind green wood barricades, and musters of men grouped everywhere. The banner of Esterford flapped in the wind well to our right, and we threaded our way through the troops towards it.

The King's general, Cadon Markay, was a craggy tank of a man. He was completely bald, perhaps ten years older than myself, sporting a wrestler's long thick arms. Obviously not a political appointee, he looked every bit as competent as his rank required. The officers around him came and went with a snapping respect and maybe a hint of fear. He stood leaning over the ubiquitous field table that seemed so common to this campaign, arms pillared to either side of what was evidently a map of the town. His eyes flashed up as we entered."Wayland's sappers. I have ten men detailed to you. Your plan?"

A moment passed as I oriented myself to the man's quick manner. "We will need use of your carpenters, and a few things from your mages, too. The plan is to weaken the east wall nearest the mage tower, and try to gain control of that immediately. Your troops would be able to enter right after, at that point."

Markay considered his map. "The east wall is also fronted by open plaza. How will you protect the dig?"

"We want to start further back, from the basement of one of the town buildings on that side. Ideally, they shouldn't even suspect the tunneling until the walls fail," I said.

Markay's eyes never left the map, but he acknowledged me, saying, "Well enough. You know they have a demon running loose on the first floor of the tower?"

"We have a way to protect ourselves from it, and a small number of men. We need the carpenters to construct something to that end."

"How?"

I outlined the platform idea, sketching out what we would need.

"And once inside the tower?"

"The mages will try to deal with the beast, and if possible, the soldiers and I will engage any others in the tower, while you move your men through the yard."

"Here it is then," said Markay. "If you can establish yourselves in the tower and at least neutralize the Demon, I will send long bowmen in to hold it. We will use the keep as a fortification to cover our following assault through the yard. However, I won't move the troops around to prepare for an eastern assault unless the walls go down there, because first, you may not make it; second because such a move would be obvious from the estate walls, and prematurely thicken defenses there, which would not benefit you either. I will put twenty bowmen behind the house you will use, though. This one," his finger mashed down on the map, indicating a building across from the tower area, "it has a basement that will do for you. How long?"

"Depends on the carpentry. It won't take long to get beneath the walls. We have a Golem to do the digging."

"Good. Go see our engineer, Garvey. Give him my note." A note had already been writ out by an aide; the general initialed it, flipped it to me and said, "Go." We left the tent straight away, getting directions from an officer loitering outside.

Thavis, who had been unusually quiet till now, noted, "Terse fellow wasn't he?"

I gave Thavis a half smile. "Considering he was likely told, rather than asked, to give us our heads in this matter, he was absolutely chatty. He must think our chances of weakening the walls good. You seem pretty confident yourself. I haven't heard you ask many questions, at least."

"Hah! I have seen you trounce these beasts before. This will only add to your fame, and to mine, We shall free your fiance in the end, Sir William. I pledge it!"

I was coming to realize that this was the currency of nobility. Feudal systems were basically military structures, whose function was rooted in defense, war and blood. This troubled me, but it did breed men who faced challenges eagerly.

Again the image of the leering demon, asking for me in trade for Gort, arose. The same chill fear ran through me once more. I still had no idea as to how the encounter could be handled, hoping only some thought or sight would spur an answer in me, or Chord. I certainly was not as excited about the prospect of confronting one as Thavis was. Freeing Dimanda was all I could focus on, and my other half-set plans seemed to melt away before this need.

The carpentry posed no problems. The platform was made in quarters that could be easily joined by pegs to re-create the whole circle. Beneath, four short stubs protruded, large enough that a boot might be tightly fitted over each one. Chord prepared the wards upon it, though when reassembled, some extra effort would have to be made to establish the spells. Procuring a second set of boots was more of an issue. There were no volunteers among the three available mages present, and it took a good deal of persuasion to obtain them.

In the end, we found ourselves in the basement of what seemed to be a small storage building, with ten bristling men at arms. Eight of them jostled large tower shields and the platform sections while Chord and a much younger practitioner tried their hardest to keep out of the way.

"Gort, dig a tunnel for us under the estate walls. It should just pass under the fortress wall foundations, and not break ground on the inside of it."

The Golem bent to the task, and a good portion of the west basement wall quickly fell to rubble. Then it vanished from view, digging tirelessly on towards the estate walls. I motioned forward, and two soldiers followed, dragging thick timbers. These would be set directly beneath the walls when Gort came to them, to temporarily shore them up until our party got beyond them. I would set small charges there to disrupt the bracing, when the time came to collapse the walls. Gort would excavate until a good sized area was clear beyond this, right in front of the keep, where we would quickly dig through and emerge, reassemble our platform and break into the tower. Or so we hoped. Gort would continue to weaken the foundation area until the charge was lit, and dig his own way out. Hopefully the walls would crumble, but either way we would be inside, left to survive or not. I hoped the walls fell, otherwise we were truly lost.

I did see that the remaining black powder would come with us, so if all else failed, we might try setting charges against the walls from the inside, if we could remain alive long enough. With Dimanda possibly in the keep, I couldn't set a huge charge under the walls as originally planned. I feared a repeat of the damage that we caused at the fort, without knowing she would remain safe.

Eventually, the soldier sent with Gort returned. "She's all set, Sir William. Damn fine job, that Golem did, too."

I peered into the breached basement wall, but it was pitch black beyond. The floor seemed dry though, some small comfort graced us by the town's elevation. The sapper passed me the lantern, and I thrust that before me. Somehow Gort had compressed the dirt he dug back into the walls, which gave them a mottled cement look. I scratched at one of the tunnel walls, and was amazed how hard they were. It struck me that the process may have left the dig so reinforced that the effect might not have loosened the foundation structures of the wall site.

The tunnel was easily five feet wide. I edged myself down it. It ran for over a hundred yards before belling out under the foundation stones of the wall. Our black timbers supported this area. The tunnel continued beyond it for another thirty, to slope up, hopefully between the keep and the wall, where our emergence would be obscured.

I looked up, where small plant roots dangled from the ceiling. Estimating the foundation to have been dug down almost twelve feet below ground level, I shook my head. Gort had done in a few hours what would have required a mining company a week. I returned to the basement and got things going.

Chord was even more distressed than I, at this point. "I know that this is now more about saving my daughter than it is about anything else, William. I want to thank you for the effort, now, in case..." There was no point in increasing Chord's agitation by heaping my own fears on top of his.

Instead, I bluffly replied, "we will save her. There was no reason to bring her here except as hostage to advance some plan, likely to gain the sword and crown. She will be safe, till all this falls out, be sure of that, at least." I swallowed, fixing myself on that hope.

Within an hour I had small sack charges laid at each timber's bottom, covered in thick clay. The fuses ran back up the tunnel to one of my candle affairs. There was nothing else to be prepared. We were all well back under the thin-dug area behind the keep now. A feeling of dread overtook me. We had about three hours to wait for dark to fall. I had the men reassemble the platform, and hoped no one tried walking behind the keep, for they would surely fall through right into our laps. At the proper time, I sent the two unshielded men back to fire the candle, warning them to clear out of the basement entirely.

Gort back-filled the tunnel between us and the wall area. Although the charges set to bring down the posts were small, the compression wave in the tunnel could still be lethal. We pushed and clawed open the area above us as quietly as we could, and gathered on top of the platform. Chord and his assistant worked their boots and raised us up to ground level. Clots of loam and verdure rained around us. The arms men's black tower shields raised up, quickly cutting off what little view I had, from near the platform's center. Chord quietly piloted the contrivance around to the tower's front, as a hew and cry went up from alert guards along the wall. "Damn," spouted Thavis, "Felway's men must have the eyes of eagles! I'd hoped we would have a little more time."

As did I.

Arrows began to rain down on us, and Thavis ordered three of our arms men to sidle from the tower side of the platform to the front, lifting shields overhead for further protection. This caused the platform to dip until the mages managed to correct for the action, and I almost lost my footing. The tower doors were before me, and barred shut. A small detail I hadn't thought about.

I cursed myself for a fool. We had no ram, and my experience with these doors left me little doubt that eight men pounding away wouldn't open them, either. I had allowed myself to believe the doors would be open, as they were from the reports we had gathered, and my own earlier experience. Behind me, Felway's men rushed across the yard. We were all dead.