Chapter 27

The wind howled in fury, driving ice into the mountainside. Thomas Horbac clutched at the bundled body in front of him atop the pack llama - the silver-haired princess - with frozen hands. His beard was a mass of ice. His face was blue. He could not remember in all his years of mountain living ever feeling so cold, chilled to his very core.

The other men behind him on the trail fared no better. They were the same three who made a routine of chiding him at the tavern; they were the closest thing to a father that the young man could ask. The entire village had been in a state of uproar after Thomas' departure two nights before; it had only increased in volume upon his return with the two striking forest women. The three had been at the tavern, and immediately jumped forward to offer their support. To the very peak of the mountain? To the Cloud City itself with drums of war? Of course they would come, and be what help they could. Thomas knew their reaction was partly in response to the sight of his injuries, but he suspected that the forest women held the men under some type of spell as well. Indeed, if the pair had remained in the small mountain village much longer, the entire population may have jumped up to help. Thomas sighed - a pale fog of ice in the bitter chill: at least the ceaseless jokes about his age had stopped, when the men found themselves too numb to speak.

High overhead was the sun, though it barely warmed the air to a bearable degree. Far below and long forgotten was the tree-line. It had stopped breaking the force of the wind many long hours ago, sometime during the middle of the night, and since then the wind had beaten down upon them with its full and unabated force. The mountain was cold and heartless, and it strove with all its power to shake the small band of travelers from its face.

Even more merciless than the mountain was the strange dark-haired woman who led them. If they made it to the Cloud City alive, their ascend would be recorded as the fastest in history: from foothills to summit in less than two days. Even with his frozen brain, Thomas could see that Anna was a natural leader. Up the mountain face, she had pushed and prodded all through the night. She had chided and goaded them into continuing their progress. She encouraged and shamed them, always in her effortless, almost indifferent manner. She did what was necessary to make them move forward, never slowing, never stopping. Thomas, the young message runner, and the three men were completely in her power - and he suspected the princess was as well - all of them centered and focused around Anna's words. It was the only thing they could do against the cold. That, and follow. They admired and respected her, and they hated her for it. And she merely used that to push them ever onward.

'We'll bring it down.'

Unbidden, the words leaped into Thomas' mind. Anna had said them in the tavern after she talked to the messenger.

"What if we can't get back out of the Cloud City?"

"Then we'll bring it down."

Thomas shuddered. What had she meant by those words? The Cloud City was enormous. Each wooden platform was itself a miniature city, suspended high in the air. It was older than most of the great ruling houses, built at the dawn of Age of Reason, meant to draw the world together. A symbol of peace and unity, it was also intended as an icon of military might. The city had its own small army, the council guard. There was only one entrance, a rope staircase leading up from the frozen mountain peak. Even if breached by a significant force, the city itself could never be taken. The platforms were free-floating, connected by tethers. The entire thing could be broken up, split apart, easily isolating any foolish enough to invade. Exactly how would one go about 'bringing it down?'

There had been a gleam in Anna's eyes. A fire that burned dangerously. She was driven to act as she did, but by what? Thomas could not see her plan, though he had helped gather many of the supplies she requested: short pieces of rope, llama harnesses and clamps, blunted knife blades, jugs of strong ale. He did not see how these things would help. But he was completely in her power, without strength or will to oppose her, as were the others as well, so he did what she said without question. Was she mad? It was possible. Then he would die a madman's death at her side. Would she succeed? That was a tougher question to answer. Thomas did not think she would, but he had never met anyone like her before. Even through all his doubt and unanswered questions, he knew that if there was any success to be found, she would be the one to find it.

'We'll bring it down.' He shuddered.

With a wall of snow and ice blowing across the path and into the weary traveler's faces, rational thought became impossible. But even for such hearty beasts and the mountain llamas, the journey was trying. The animals were accustomed to short marches during the relative warmth of day. They knew their routes, they knew the resting points, and they were ready at those places to curl tightly into a bank of snow. On this trip, however, there was no stopping. Thomas was amazed the animals did not complain more when they had been loaded the previous evening and sent into the rapidly dropping temperatures of night. But the beasts seemed to obey Anna's voice even more readily than he did. It was insanity going out into the night, but they did, and the llamas carried them. All through the night and morning, the packs squeaked and shifted on llamas' backs as they trudged up the mountainside. The animals' bleating had stopped close to midnight - they were conserving their energy for warmth - and they had not made a sound since. They merely kept their heads down, taking step after freezing step. But Thomas could see even such blind obedience from the animals would only last so long; sooner or later they would drop from exhaustion and hypothermia. It was really a question of who would last longer: the llamas or the shivering people on their backs.

Some time ago, they had passed the last shelter, the large dry chamber carved from the rock. It was the usual stopping point before the last leg of the journey. The llamas had almost succeeded in dropping to the ground to rest outside, a goal which Thomas found himself sharing, but Anna had forced them on. How he hated her! And admired her. She had said it with such ease, such purpose, that none of them had been able to argue. She had seemed almost not to be shouting over the wind. It was kind of an un-reality; Thomas shook his head, still not believing how she had gotten the group passed that last shelter without even a second thought. How strong she was! Her face was red and wind-whipped, but her eyes did not have the sunken stare that was so common on the summit road. She was still vibrant and full of life, full of energy. Almost cheerful. There was definitely some mystery about her greater than the color of her hair.

They had stopped.

Why had they stopped? Thomas looked up, saw the rope staircase in the distance. He blinked, trying to thaw his eyes. The ladder was still there, real. They had actually made it to the summit. Was it possible? He was there to prove it, within view of the entrance to the Cloud City, after the bitter torment, the grueling punishment that was Anna. There she was, dismounting her llama, still well away from the stairs. The group followed suit, much more stiffly.

"Aren't you cold?" the princess asked Anna.

"Yeah, it's freezing up here," Anna answered. But her tone did not match what the rest of the group felt. She had her furs pulled tightly around her body, yes, but she was not shivering. Her teeth were not chattering uncontrollably. It was as if the most extreme cold the planet had to offer truly did not bother her. Unconcerned by the group's unbelieving stares, she turned calmly to the messenger, said, "Do you remember which one it is?"

What one what? Thomas' brain was too cold to function; he did not understand.

But the messenger understood. The boy turned, orienting himself to the layout of the city floating above their heads, pointed with a gloved hand. "There. It's that one."

"You're sure?"

"I saw them take him there. It's the only one where they keep prisoners."

"Okay."

Thomas admired the boy. Frozen almost to the point of death, he had recovered in the warmth of the tavern to accompany the group back up the mountain. And of course, he understood the question as well. The Cloud City was built with a sort of spatial organization to its many platforms: residences here, meeting places there, senate farther on, and of course the jail cells. Most laws in the world belonged to the great houses. The great lords and ladies each had their own lands, their own laws, their own punishments, their own dungeons. But even in its weakened form, the Consul Hai still enforced a number of absolute laws, and had the ability to make its own arrests and punish its own prisoners, independent of the great houses. It was almost never done; the only prisoners likely to be found held in the Cloud City were political prisoners - great lords or ladies in violation of their house charter.

Of course, things were about to change. The time of peace was over. One house had marched its army against another in secret, breaking the rules of war. The end result was hidden, a mystery, but it was likely the Consul Hai would find itself in the midst of a struggle sooner or later. Already, signs of a struggle were becoming visible, if a great lord coming to make a formal complaint could be captured and held in the world's capitol, with no apparent consequence. It spoke of some hidden power, moving in the background. Thomas struggled to grasp the true, sinister meaning behind those thoughts, but the numbing cold had not subsided. Why did the group just stand on the summit? Why did they not make their way to the staircase to begin their ascent?

But Anna did not seem to have the staircase in mind. She was saying, "That platform's the one we need to be on, but the mountain's too sheer there on the East. It'll be too hard to get down to the tethers, and too long a climb to get up."

A climb? Climbing the city's anchoring tethers? Was she serious?

"We can climb here to the first platform, on the East side. Then, there's only one bridge to cross, and we should still be able to take them by surprise."

She was serious. She was actually crazy.

"It looks like two tethers to the mountain we'll have to cut, and then there's three bridges attached. I hope it doesn't come to that."

Come to what? Thomas was growing increasingly alarmed. And the more so because he knew there was nothing he could do to stop her. On the other hand, her plan could not possibly work. If she truly meant for the group to reach the city's main platform by climbing, she would find herself there alone. None of them other than herself were in any condition to attempt a feat which would be considered reckless even if it weren't at the highest point on the planet. Surely, she would have to face reality? But then, Thomas found he was wrong on both counts.

The group drifted in Anna's wake as she marched through thickly packed snow to reach the first stone ring that anchored the floating Cloud City. The ring was enormous, as high as a man, twice as thick and twice as broad. A heavy rope wound itself around the ring many times in a tight coil, then rose in a stiff arc to a mounting at the bottom of the wooden platform overhead. Anna was talking the whole time, explaining, but Thomas found he could not listen. It was not until she produced the devices she had fashioned from the village supplies that he finally understood.

Using harness clamps and knife blades, Anna had built a thing which would fasten to the rope tether. When opened, it would slide easily up and down the length of the rope; when closed, it would hold fast. Thomas could see at last the point to all the questions she had asked about the city, and about the tethers. How long were they? How thick? As thick as an arm? As a leg? The two clamps she held to demonstrate were connected by an arm's length of normal rope, with part of a llama's harness attached. This harness she fastened around herself, and the two clamps around the girth of the tether. And she began to climb.

The rest of the group fastened similar devices around their own waists, and began the climb as well. Though difficult, it was surprisingly easier than any of them had expected. By raising one clamp and then the other, they could pull themselves slowly up the length of the tether toward the city. By simply letting go, they could easily rest without falling back or losing distance. It was a remarkable creation, and with it the seven travelers made the impossible climb unnoticed to the great Cloud City. Thomas found himself suitably amazed and abashed, as if the doubts which had been swirling in his mind had been spoken, and needed amending. He felt as if he owed the dark-haired woman an apology, for even considering that she might not be able to accomplish what she claimed. But she was much higher on the rope, and he needed his strength for climbing. His arms began to warm to the task, and he almost felt as if some feeling was creeping back into his fingers.

Daran Gholla crept along the wall. It was a good, solid wall, wide at the top. By staying low and to the outside, he could avoid being seen by anyone on the ground inside. So far, there had been no enemy patrols outside the wall - they were content to watch at the gate - but the Hai Krun soldiers at those gates had a view along the wall inside and out, for a short distance. So Daran stayed safely atop the wall, out of sight. Behind him, strung out in a long line, was an attack force of slave girls, some of the farmers from the night before, and some new recruits from the residential neighborhoods earlier that morning. They moved slowly, quietly. Their formation was not defensive, and if they attracted any attention, might easily prove vulnerable. The Southern gate lay ahead, within view.

The Northern gate was well removed from the palace, and had so far been easy to hold. A unit of slave-archers and farmer-spearmen occupied the guardhouse, shooting any Hai Krun patrols that ventured close. No message had traveled from the guardhouse back to the palace, so there had so far been no attempt by the Hai Krun to mount any kind of attack on that position. Along the perimeter of the wall, archers were posted, shooting down passing enemy soldiers. All through the morning, this had continued, so far with no response. But the enemy body count was rising steadily.

'If you want a thing to happen, you must make it happen.' Daran had not known the exact wording when he had tried to incorporate Somoni's wisdom into his speech that morning, but no one pointed out his misquote.

"The enemy occupies the palace," he had said. "Darrak Krun controls everything inside the wall. The lord Iosoan is gone, the prince is killed or captured, the army is dead or scattered." In fact, several escaped Hai Lei soldiers had joined with them shortly after. "Anna, the one most of us have already followed, isn't here to lead us. We're on our own now. It's up to us. That's the way things are. If we stand any chance of taking back control, we have to change the way things are."

Daran felt a swell of pride the way they followed him. He was no leader! This was not his fight! But they needed someone to follow, and they followed him. Was is just that? Would he really risk his own life to help these people only because they had no one else to follow? Did the final outcome really matter to him? He found that it did. He admired these people, their happiness, their loyalty, their way of life. He thought of his sister, and the way she had moved into this land with her forest husband; he always wondered at her reasons; he finally understood. In his own home, beneath the waves, he had lived his life, following the course of things. These people really lived, though. Their lives seemed rich and full - just the act of breathing the forest air was wonderful. And their way of life, everything they held dear, everything he had come to admire about them, was being threatened. This was his chance, his opportunity to really live as well.

"It's time to fight back!" he had said. They all cheered.

And they followed him, his instructions. The unit at the Northern guardhouse, the archers on the wall. And the Southern gate: that was the next step. So Daran crawled forward, his soldiers behind him. His soldiers. Then they were at the gate, overlooking the guardhouse. There were a lot of Hai Krun soldiers stationed there, a large unit. Maybe two full units. It did not matter; the time for stealth was over. He glanced back, gave the hand-signal. The men were in position, the girls behind them. And it was time.

Daran crouched at the edge of the wall, and jumped down into the gate. He heard the sound of many sandals behind him as the other men landed. The Hai Krun soldiers turned, startled. Their moment of shock killed them, as the girls moved the edge of the wall a poured arrows down into the enemy. Daran and the farmers made easy work of the remaining gray uniforms, and the gate was taken. The girls jumped lightly down into the guardhouse area as well. To the South, the main road wound away into the open forest. To the North, away in the distance, lay the palace.

A wave toward the top of the wall sent a messenger running. With Hai Lei forces in control of both gates, they could safely move troops along the outside of the wall. Could they get their forces into position before their last move was discovered. Sooner or later, the dropping number of patrolling Hai Krun soldiers was bound to draw attention. Then, the resistance movement would be found out; they had, therefore, to be ready before that time came.

Daran's thoughts turned for a moment to his injured lover, taken down to the doctor's residence during the night. Everything had changed when the fighting had broken out; thoughts of home, thoughts of his old life seemed to diminish. He seemed to have found himself during the past days of battle. Not in a sense of purpose or meaning, but in a sense of action. He was not transformed into anything other than himself, but at the same time he was fulfilled in some deep way by the surrounding edge of danger. Was it just the rush of adrenaline, or was it something more? Something even deeper? He was not a natural leader; a skilled fighter but not a trained soldier. How many mistakes had he already made? What would be the full price before the end? It added up to a strange combination of feelings: awakened but hungry. And of Leah: he knew she needed him more, and he was drawn even more strongly to her in her state of weakness. It had all seemed so simple just a few hours before.

'Simplicity is a deception. Complexity hides below the surface.' This time, he recalled the quote correctly. He sighed.

The forces were in position. The entirety of the Hai Lei resistance poured in through the gates. Daran led his party from the Southern gate along the main road to the palace. The young farmer named Jackob led his party from the same gate, along the East inner wall, circling North. And Sira marched with the remainder of the troops from the Northern gate. The three prongs of the attack, to fall upon the palace from three directions. They moved at a run, counting on speed and surprise. History would tell the wisdom of such action.