Seeing his reaction brought Cara's Agiel up into her fist. Berdine and Nyda spun their weapons up to hand as well.

Nathan staggered back another step. His hand went to his face in shock. He turned to them, his mouth agape.

In a rush of movement, being as quiet as possible, he raced back to them.

"Dear spirits." He ran his fingers back through his hair as he looked back at the face on the wall.

"Dear spirits, what?" Cara growled.

Nathan, his face nearly as white as his hair, turned his azure eyes on the Mord-Sith.

"There are hundreds of people on the other side of that wall."

Cara was speechless for only an instant. "Hundreds? Are you sure?"

He nodded vigorously. "Maybe thousands."

Verna finally recovered her own voice. "What people? Who are they?"

"Don't know," Nathan said, his head swiveling back and forth between their faces and the face in the marble wall. "I can't begin to imagine. But I can tell you that they have a lot of steel with them."

General Trimack leaned in. "Steel?"

"Weapons," Verna said.

Nathan's expression was grave. "That's right. Down here there isn't much steel, so it stands out when I use the gift to sense what is beyond the wall. There are a lot of people and they have a lot of steel with them."

"They can only be armed men," the general said as he quietly drew his sword. He signaled to his men. They all did the same. In a heartbeat they all had weapons to hand.

"Any idea who they could be?" Berdine asked in a whisper.

Nathan, looking as worried as Verna had ever seen him, shook his head. "None. I can't tell who they are, only that they are back there."

Cara started across the corridor. "I say we find out."

The general gave quick hand signals to all his men. They quietly started moving in from both sides.

"Just how do you think you can find out?" Verna asked, following on Cara's heels.

Cara paused and looked back at her a moment. She turned to Nathan.

"Can you use your gift to, to, I don't know-knock the wall down, or something."

"Of course."

"Then I think we-"

Cara fell silent when Nathan held up his hand. He cocked his head, listening.

"They're talking. Something about light."

"Light?" Verna asked. "What do you mean?"

Nathan's brow lowered as he concentrated as if trying to hear. She knew that he was listening with his gift, not his ears. It was frustrating in the extreme that she couldn't do the same.

"The light went out for them," he said in a low voice. "Their lamps all of a sudden went dark."

Everyone turned to the wall when muffled voices came from beyond. There was no gift needed to hear them. Men were complaining about not being able to see, wanting to know what was happening.

Then they heard a scream. It lasted only an instant before abruptly going silent. Muffled shouts rose in dismay and growing panic.

"Break it down!" Cara called to Nathan.

Suddenly shrieks erupted from the other side of the wall-men crying out now not only in terror but in shock and pain.

Nathan lifted his arms to cast a web that would bring down the wall.

Before he could act, the white marble exploded out toward them. Fragments of stone blew apart with a deafening noise. A big man, bloody sword in hand, came crashing shoulder-first through the wall at a dead run from the other side. He fell sliding across the floor.

Pieces of white stone of every size and shape sailed through the corridor. Large sections of marble broke free and came crashing down. Beyond the chaos of flying stone shards and boiling dust Verna saw snatches of darkly armored men with weapons in hand. They looked to be in a state of bewildered battle, fighting an unseen enemy. Their roar of voices rose in anger, confusion, and terror.

Through the cloud of dust and debris Verna could see that there was a dark corridor beyond filled with a massive jumble of Imperial Order soldiers.

Through the thundering noise and turmoil, people fell through the breach in the wall. Big tattooed men wearing dark leather armor, straps, studs, and chain mail, several with missing arms, others with their faces cleaved open, crashed heavily to the ground. A head, greasy ropes of hair flailing, tumbled through the chalky stone dust. Men missing a leg toppled out. Others, their middles ripped asunder, stumbled through the mess.

Great gouts of crimson blood splashed across the white marble floor.

In the middle of all the flying stone, billowing dust, disembodied heads tumbling across shattered marble, men falling, screaming, dyin; and the confusion of blood and bodies spilling out into the corridor Richard, with mortally wounded men toppling away to either side, sweeping his sword with one hand, holding an unconscious-looking Nicci up with his other arm around her waist, plunged through the breach in the dark wall of soldiers.

CHAPTER 43

Cara planted a foot on the back of a fallen Imperial Order soldier and leaped into the air toward Richard as he used his momentum to help carry him through the confusion of dust and stone smashed apart by Bruce when he'd charged through the marble veneer as if he were hitting a line of blockers. As Richard slid under the flying blades and blood, he laid Nicci on the floor, letting her limp form, atop a layer of slick stone dust covering the polished stone, slide the rest of the way across the hall and out of harm's way.

Richard immediately spun around, bringing his sword to bear on the wall of men descending on him as they spilled out of the dark corridor and into the torchlit halls. He sliced mercilessly into every opening. They fought fiercely to get at him and bring him down. Blade slashed muscle and hit bone. The noise was deafening as men growled, some yelled battle cries, and others screamed in mortal pain.

Richard evaded their fierce attacks, and at every opportunity thrust his blade through the onslaught. Every one of his swift strikes found its mark. For every man he killed, though, it seemed three more replaced him.

Cara crashed into a big man with a shaved head as he went for Richard. Using both hands, she slammed her Agiel across his throat. For an instant Richard saw the shock of pain in the man's eyes before he went down. Richard used the opening to turn and thrust his sword into another soldier to the side.

All the men who had been quietly gathering in the dark corridor appeared to be experienced fighters. The battle had come sooner than they had planned, but now that it was upon them they fought with wild fury. These weren't the regular Imperial Order soldiers, the men who had joined for glory and plunder. These were professional warriors, well-trained and experienced men who knew what they were doing. They were universally powerful men, all wearing at least leather armor. Some were additionally outfitted with chain mail. All of them were carrying well-made weapons.

They fought with measured moves meant to tear through an enemy defensive line.

As good as they were, they'd been caught off guard and surprised by the sudden darkness followed by swift violence. They had believed that as they quietly crept into enemy territory they were safely hidden. In a moment of confusion and alarm when it had gone dark in the corridor they had been gripped by overpowering fear of the unknown. In those brief bewildering moments men had begun dying without understanding how or why.

Richard had used that surprise to tear through their ranks as swiftly as possible. The last thing he had wanted to do was get bogged down in hand-to-hand fighting. His purpose had been to get through, not to engage the enemy. With Nicci, Jillian, and Adie to escort, it was all he, Bruce, and General Meiffert could do to cut their way through without slowing when confronted. Within the palace Adie's ability to help them had diminished.