Вилорп

→"He can't. He doesn't have enough Orcs to storm the walls. He doesn't have siege engines and the dragons can't fly so well in winter. Our Sorcerers can hold them off."

→Gurd shakes his head.

→"I reckon he'll try and force his way into Turai before then."

→Unfortunately, we can be sure that at the same time a huge army of Orcs will be moving towards us from the west. Prince Amrag's reinforcements might get here first. And anyway, Prince Amrag might not wait till spring.

→Gurd is the owner of this tavern, my landlord, and my oldest friend. We've fought beside each other all over the world. These days his hair is grey and he sells beer for a living but his strength and fighting spirit are undiminished. Come the spring he's fully expecting to be marching out of Turai and sending the Orcs back where they belong. It's not such an unreasonable expectation. At this moment armies should be gathering. Simnia and all lands to the west will be arming themselves for war. The Abelasian General Hiffier will be preparing an army from the League of City States. The Elves of the Southern Isles will be preparing their ships and sharpening their spears. In theory, the first day of spring should see a huge force marching towards Turai from the west and another force sailing up from the south.

→"As soon as spring comes there'll be a relief force on its way," says Gurd.

→Despite their success, the Orcs failed in their attempt to take the city. They'd crossed the wastelands in midwinter, and they'd even managed to bring dragons with them. They were counting on a swift victory. Had they smashed their way into the city they could have wintered in comfort here, allowing fresh troops to join them from the east before mounting their invasion of the Human lands. As it is, they're stuck outside in the snow and that can't be comfortable, even for northern Orcs who are used to the bad weather.

→The city authorities ignored the warnings of Lisutaris, head of the Sorcerers Guild, and we paid the price.

→He looks to me for support. I shrug. I don't know if we're going to survive or not. With our own army defeated, an Orcish army somewhere outside the walls, and no help on the way, it's hard to be too optimistic. Last month we suffered a catastrophic defeat at the hands of Prince Amrag, Orcish overlord. He took us completely by surprise, trapping and destroying our forces outside the city walls. We hadn't expected an attack in winter.

→"Turai will survive," declares Gurd. "No damned Orc is chasing me out of this city."

→"Turai is doomed," says old Parax the shoemaker. He never was the most optimistic of men.

→Chapter One

→"We're working on it," she whispers.

→"Before we met him I passed some mourners, close to the harbour. A couple of men and a woman. Or I thought it was a woman. She was wearing a veil. But now I'm wondering if it might have been Deeziz the Unseen."

→Lisutaris stares at me. She stares at me for so long I wonder if she might not be completely with us. Finally she manages the smallest of smiles.

→"Deeziz the Unseen? I thought I was the one who was sick. You must be hallucinating."

→"I wasn't hallucinating. I didn't see anything strange. Just a standard Human mourner, in a veil. Deeziz is known for wearing a veil. So I'm wondering if it might have been him."

→"But mourners often wear veils," says Makri, which is true.

→"Did you sense sorcery?" asks Lisutaris.

→"No, nothing."