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His wrinkles seerooves in that old and weathered face, the visage of a man who had seen too much By Master Jojonah&039;s estimation, Dalebert Markwart, the Father Abbot of St-Mere-Abelle, the highest-ranking person in the Abellican Order, had aged tremen-dously over the last couple of years The portly Jojonah, no young man himself, studied Markwart carefully as the pair stood atop the seaall of the great abbey, staring out into All Saints Bay He tried to coe of the Father Abbot, unshaven, with eyes sunken deep into sockets, against the memory of the man just a few years previous, in God&039;s Year 821 when they had all waited eagerly for the return of theWindrunner, the ship that had delivered four of St- Mere-Abelle&039;s brothers to the equatorial island of Piht collect the sacred stones

Things had changed much since those days of hope and wonderment

The emstones taken and properly prepared And three of the brothers, with the exception of poor Thagraine as stricken in the h Brother Pellimar had died a short time later

"A pity that it had not been Avelyn as hit in the head by a falling stone," Father Abbot Markwart had often said in the years hence, for Avelyn, after achieving the greatest success in the his-tory of the Church as a Preparer of the sacred geed hest heresy possible in the Order Avelyn had taken soht, Master Siherton, a peer of Jojonah&039;s and a friend of Markwart&039;s, had been killed

The Father Abbot had not let the theft pass Indeed, he had guided the training of the re brother from the party of four, a stocky and brutish man named Quintall Under Markwart&039;s strict-est orders, Quintall had beco back the man or his broken body

Word had come back to the library only the month before that Quintall had failed and was dead

Still, Markwart had no intention of letting Avelyn run free He had set De&039;Unnero, the finest fighter at the abbey - and, by Jojonah&039;s esti not one, but two Brothers Justice as replacement for Quintall Jojonah didn&039;t like De&039;Unnero at all, considered thea brother of the Abellican Church, and so he had not been pleased when the still-young man had been named to the rank of master as a replacement for Master Siherton And the choice of hunters, too, had bothered Jojonah, for he suspected that the two young monks, Brothers Youseff and Dandelion, had only been admitted to St-Mere-Abelle for this purpose Surely nei-ther of them qualified above others who had been refused their appointht

So even that choice of adreatest re-sponsibility of abbots and masters, had fallen victim to Markwart&039;s desire to clear his own reputation The Father Abbot wanted those stones back

Desperately, Master Jojonah thought as he looked upon the old Father Abbot&039;s haggard visage Dalebert Markas aIf at first Markwart had wanted Avelyn captured and tried, he merely wanted the man dead now - and painfully killed, tortured, rended, his heart torn out and put on a stake before the front gate of St-Mere-Abelle Markwart hardly talked of dead Siherton these days; his focus was purely the stones, the precious stones, and he et theh, out of ne-cessity even greater than Markwart&039;s obsession, for the war had at last come to St-Mere-Abelle

"There they are," Father Abbot Markwart re out across the bay

Jojonah leaned on the loall, squinting into the darkness, and there, rounding a bend along the northern spur of the rocky seacoast, ca very low in the water

"Powrie barrelboat," Markwart said distastefully as hts came into view "A thousand of them out there!"

And so confident that they approach in full vieith lights burning, Jojonah silently added And that wasn&039;t even the extent of their probleh the reater troubles facing the abbey

"And how h he had read Jojonah&039;s mind "Twenty thousand? Fifty? The whole powrie nation is upon us, as if all the Weathered Isles had been duain the portly Jojonah had no practical response According to the reports of trusted sources, a vast army of the four-foot-tall dwarves, the cruel powries, had landed less than ten miles down the coast from St-Mere-Abelle The brutal creatures had wasted no ti any hu-ht a shiver along Jojonah&039;s spine Powries were also called "bloody caps" for their practice of dipping their specially treated berets - caps made of human skin - into the blood of their slain enehter its cri the barrel-bodied, spindly limbed dwarves

"We have the stones," Jojonah offered

Markwart snorted derisively "And we&039;ll tire ourbefore we dioblin ar south of here"

"There is the report of the explosion far to the north," Jojonah offered hopefully, trying in any way possible to improve Mark-wart&039;s surly ree; whispers from reliable sources spoke of a tremendous eruption in the northern land known as the Barbacan, reputedly the land of the de army But while those ruht to the dactyl&039;s doorstep, they offered little in the face of the force nowMarkwart emphasized with his next derisive snort

"Our walls are thick, our brothers well-trained in the fighting arts, and our catapult crews second to none in all Corona," Jojonah went on, gaining momentum with every word "And St-Mere-Abelle is better suited to withstand a siege than any structure in Honce-the-Bear," he added, preelum statement

"Better suited with not so many mouths to feed," Markwart snapped at him, and Jojonah winced as if slapped "I wish that the powries had been quicker!"

Master Jojonah sighed and moved a few steps to the side then, unable to tolerate his superior&039;s grating pessimism and that last re-ees who had recently co into St-Mere-Abelle, it had, in Jojonah&039;s estie of blasphemy They were the Church, after all, supposedly the salvation of the common man, and yet here was their Father Abbot, their spiritual leader, co shelter to people who had lost al The Father Abbot&039;s first response to the influx of refugees had been to order everything valuable, books, gold leaf, even inkwells, locked away

"Avelyn started all of this," Markwart raave hope to our ene He had heard it all before - indeed, it had by now been disseminated to all the abbeys of Corona that Avelyn Desbris was responsible for awakening the de into edies that had befallen the land

Master Jojonah, who had been Avelyn&039;s h the man&039;s years at St-Mere-Abelle, couldn&039;t, in his heart, believe a word of it Jojonah had studied at the abbey for four decades, and had never in all that tiularly holy as Avelyn Desbris While he had not yet come to terms with Avelyn&039;s last actions at the abbey - the theft of the stones and the murder, if it was a murder, of Master Siherton - Jojonah suspected there was more to the story than the Father Abbot&039;s version would indicate More than anything, Master Jojonah wanted to speak at length with his former student, to discover the man&039;s motivations, to find out why he had run and why he had taken the gehts appeared in the dark harbor, a rerim situation at hand Avelyn was an issue for another day; thethe full fury of war to St-Mere- Abelle

The two th

"Sleep well in God&039;s bosom," Master Jojonah said to Markwart, the proper and traditional nightti

Markaved a hand absently over his shoulder and walked away, gru about the wretch Avelyn under his breath

Master Jojonah recognized a growing proble ill to St-Mere-Abelle and all the Order But there was little he could do about it, he reminded himself, and he went to his private room He added many lines about Avelyn Desbris, words of hope for theprayers, then rolled onto his bed, knowing he would not sleep well

Father Abbot Markwart, too, was speaking words about Avelyn when he entered his lavish quarters, four rooround-level floor The old er, muttered curse after curse, spat Avelyn&039;s nareatest traitors and heretics in the history of the Church, and vowed again to see the man tortured to death before he, hin at St-Mere-Abelle had been unbleh to preside over the Order in the generation of the stone showers, the trereatest ever taken fro the most revered Father Abbots of history But then the wretch Avelyn changed that, brought a black mark to his reputation: as the first father abbot to ever suffer the absolute indignity of losing sohts, and none for the invasion fleet that had entered All Saints Bay, that Father Abbot Markwart at last drifted off to sleep

His dreaes of a faraway land that he did not know He saw Avelyn, thick and fat and haggard, snarling orders to goblins and powries He saw the , not out of any hatred for the evil race, but because this one had not obeyed hiure appeared, a winged e and terrible The personification of the wrath of God

Then Markwart understood

A demon dactyl had been the source of the war? No, this disaster had been caused by so force of evil was Avelyn, the heretic!

The Father Abbot sat bolt upright in bed, sweating and tre It was only a dream, he reminded himself

But had there not been soreat epiphany to the tired oldcall as clear as the loudest bell ever chi Avelyn as the root source of all the problems, but much of that had beenhis own errors He had always known that hidden truth until now

Now Markwart realized that it had indeed been Avelyn, beyond any doubt He knew that the man had unraveled all that was holy, perverted the stones to his oicked use, worked against the Church and all of Mankind

Markwart kneithout doubt, and in that profound knowledge he was at last able to disuilt

The old man pulled hi a lamp He fell into his chair, exhausted, over-come, and absently took a key from a secret compartment in one drawer and used it to open the lock on a secret co his private cache of stones: ruby, graphite, er&039;s paw, a lodestone, and his est heray stone Markwart could send his spirit across the h they were sepa-rated by half a continent He had used this stone to make contact with Brother Justice - no easy task since Quintall was not profi-cient in use of the stones, and since his single- iven him a level of mental discipline that was hard to penetrate

Markwart had used this stone to contact a friend in Amvoy, across the Masur Delaval from Palmaris, and that friend had dis-covered the truth of Brother Justice&039;s failed quest

How precious these sacred stones were - to the reater treasure - and it was et away

He looked at the handful of stones now as if they were his chil-dren, then sat up straighter, blinking quizzically For he saw thereat truth had been re-vealed to him He saw the powers buried within each stone, and knew he could reach theht, hardly an effort at all And soether, as the old nized new and more powerful combinations for various stones

The Father Abbot fell back and even cried out, tears of joy drip-ping frorip, he suddenly believed, for now he understood, beyond doubt And with his reve-lations had co It was always a sharp thorn in Markwart&039;s side that Avelyn, this sup-posed heretic, had been the most powerful stone user in the history of the Church If the stones ca, yet how could that be so if Avelyn Desbris, the thief, was so proficient with theiven Avelyn the power! The demon dactyl had perverted the stones in Avelyn&039;s hands, allowing hihtly andthat God had answered the dactyl by showing hihts This time he would find no sleep, too consuht

Dalebert Markwart, the Father Abbot, the highest-ranking mem-ber of the Abellican Church, had it all exactly backward, a thought that pleased the spirit of the demon dactyl immensely How easily Bestesbulzibar had linked with this craven old man, how easily it had perverted Markwart&039;s assumed truths!

Nearly all of St-Mere-Abelle&039;s more than seven hundredfor the ap-proach of the powrie fleet With two notable exceptions, Master Jo-jonah realized, for Brothers Youseff and Dandelion were nowhere to be found Markwart had put them safely away for what he con-sidered their more important task

Most of theparapets, but others ic positions in rooms below the level of the wall top Two dozen catapults were readied as the vast powrie fleet made its way in toward the rocky cliff Even more deadly, the older and more powerful monks, the masters and immaculates, monks who had studied for ten years andthehtened power

Markwart kept most of the h he had to placethe many approaches for the expected land attack Then all of St-Mere-Abelle hushed and waited as score after score of powrie vessels rounded the rocky spur anda nearly subed barrel, but others with flat, open decks set with catapults

A catapult let fly from one of the rooms just below the Father Abbot&039;s position, its pitch ball sailing high and far, but well short of the nearest vessel

"Hold!" Markwart yelled down angrily "Would you show thee, then?"

Master Jojonah put a hand on the Father Abbot&039;s shoulder "They are nervous," he offered as an excuse for the pre

"They are foolish!" the Father Abbot snapped back at hirasp "Find the one who fired that catapult and replace hi him up to me"

Jojonah started to protest, but quickly realized that to be a fool&039;s course If he angered the Father Abbot any more - and he saay he could even speak with thethat - then Markwart&039;s punish hs, a helpless expression that he thought he see far too often these days, the portlywith him a second-year student to replace the man

More and more powrie ships came into view, but those closest did not e

"They await the ground assault," remarked Brother Francis Del-lacourt, a ninth-year ue and severe discipline of the younger students, attributes that had made him a favorite with Markwart

"What news from the western walls?" Markwart asked

Francis ier monks to run off for inforround at first," Francis then offered to Markwart

"The reasoning that led you to such a conclusion?"

"The sea cliff is a hundred feet, at least, and that at its shortest juncture," Francis reasoned "Those powries in the boats will have little chance of gaining our walls unless we are sorely taxed in the west They will hit us hard by ground, and then, with our numbers thinned on this wall, their fleet will strike"

"What do you know of powrie tactics?" Markwart said loudly, drawing all of those nearby, including the returning Master Jojonah and the errant artillerist, into the conversation Markwart knehat Francis would say, for he, like all of the older monks, had studied the records of previous powrie assaults, but he thought that a dissertation by the efficient Francis would be a prudent reminder

"We have few examples of a powrie dual strike," Francis ad-mitted "They usually attack primarily from the sea, with incredible speed and ferocity But I suspect that St-Mere-Abelle is too formi-dable for that, and they know it They will thin our line by attacking froround, and then their catapults will put their strong lines up over our wall"

"How high will any cli defense at the top of those ropes?" one monk asked impertinently "We&039;ll cut the powries"

Master Jojonah started to respond, but Markwart, preferring to hear from Francis on this matter, stopped him with an upraised hand, then motioned for the ninth-year monk to proceed

"Do not underestimate them!" Francis fumed, and Jojonah noted that Markwart cracked his first so the powries struck at Pireth Tulh than our own In this arrison had even arrived at the walls to offer defense And as for those ere in place along Pireth Tully defensible walls"

Francis let the thought hang It was co Pireth Tulme&039;s elite Coastpoint Guards, and also that those remains found had been hor-ribly ain, turning as he spoke to ensure that everyattention

Master Jojonah watched Francis closely He didn&039;t like the man, not at all Brother Francis&039; ae, as was his ability to take every word ht fro force behind Brother Francis&039; devotion to Markwart, though, but rather, prag in the attention now only reinforced that belief

The two , but with no apparent sense of urgency "Nothing," each reported "No signs of any gathering aro," one of thee force of powries was spottedwest"

Jojonah and Markwart exchanged curious looks

"A ruse," Brother Francis warned "Moving west, away froht not be prepared for the sudden assault over land"

"Your reasoning is sound," Master Jojonah offered "But I wonder if we ainst theht indeed be waiting for the ground assault," Jojo-nah said "And that assault uard But our powrie friends in the harbor cannot see St-Mere- Abelle&039;s western walls, nor the grounds beyond them"

"They will hear the sounds of battle," another monk reasoned

"Or they will hear what they believe to be the sounds of battle," Master Jojonah replied slyly

"I will see to it!" cried Brother Francis, running off even before the Father Abbot gave his consent

Markwart ordered every second ht

Moan, with cries of "Attack! Attack!" and the swooshing sound of ballistae firing Then a treround and a fireball rose into the air, the ical blast of a ruby

"Authentic," Master Jojonah said dryly "But our exuberant Francis should conserve his y"

"He has powries to convince," Markwart retorted sharply

"Here they coh the powrie craft began gliding across the bay, right on schedule The tu, even another fireball froht and sound, ca

Markwart passed the word to let theh more than one catapult let fly its payload pree, and with the Father Abbot&039;s eager blessing, the an their barrage, throwing stones and pitch One powrie cata-pult barge went up in flaot hit on its rounded side, the force of the boulder rolling the craft right over in the water Another barrelboat took a hit squarely on its prow, the heavy stone driving the front of the craft under the water, its stern reaching sky-ward, its pedal-driven propeller spinning uselessly in the empty air Soon , thrashing

But the cheering on the abbey&039;s wall did not hold, for soon enough the lead powrie ships were right below the Father Abbot&039;s position, right at the base of the seawall, and now their catapults went into action, launching dozens of weighted, knotted ropes tipped with cunning, rapnels The hooked instru- the ht by a hooked tip, then pulled in screah an arroup of seven i in unison, joining their power, six with their hands locked, the seventh in their center, holding forth a piece of graphite A sheet of blue electricity crackled over the bay, sparking off thelow the dozens of ex-posed powries on the barge decks

But the burst lasted only a split second, and dozens more powries rushed to take the places of the fallen Up the ropes they ca hand over hand with tremendous speed

Monks attacked with conventional bows and with ge fire froertips to burn the ropes, while others went at the grapnels with heavy hammers or at the ropes with swords Dozens of ropes went down, sending powries diving into the bay, but scoresup as more craft crowded into the base of the cliff

With still no sign of any approaching ground force, all of the monks came to the seawall, all of St-Mere-Abelle&039;s power fo-cused on the thousand powrie vessels that had swar ofpitch, with the screa powries And with the screa monks, for as soon as all the ropes were up, the powrie catapult barges began hurling huge baskets of pinballs, wooden balls an inch in diameter set with a multitude of metal, often poison- tipped needles

Despite all the talk of Pireth Tuls of the older, more studied monks, the defenders of St-Mere-Abelle were in-deed taken aback at the sheer ferocity and boldness of the assault And of the skill, for the powries were as efficient and disciplined a fighting army as any in all the world Not a monk, not even stub-born Brother Francis, doubted for a round force had made its appearance then, St-Mere-Abelle, the most ancient and defensible bastion in all of Honce-the-Bear, would have fallen

Even without that ground force, Father Abbot Markwart appre-ciated the danger of the situation

"You!" he called to the monk who had fired the first catapult shot "Now is the chance to redeeain the Father Abbot&039;s favor, rushed to Markwart&039;s side and was presented with three stones: a malachite, a ruby, and a serpentine