6: Broken Fortress Read Online Free PDF Page B

an unadorned entryway opened into a large, common room where the only decorative flair seemed to be a pair of staircases that led up to an overhanging balcony and the upper floors. But Kahlil’s strongest impression came not from the spartan surroundings but the flurry of excited servants and runners, who rushed past like flocks of red-garbed swallows.
    A pretty young woman called out a warm greeting to Ji, but a moment later she disappeared up a staircase.   
    Apparently their ship had arrived earlier than expected and the house steward had rallied Jath’ibaye’s entire household to make all ready for his imminent arrival.
      Ji winked at Kahlil as two footmen bustled past them, speculating as to who Jath’ibaye’s mysterious guest could be.
    Despite the chaos, Ji easily caught the attention of a young, blonde kitchen servant and arranged for him to send taye cakes and warm goat stew up to the western watchtower for Ji and himself.
    “It’ll be quiet up there,” Ji informed Kahlil as they mounted the staircase. “We can enjoy our meal and the view in peace.”  
    The small chamber of the watchtower was packed with rolled maps and shelves of finely ground lenses. Two beautifully polished telescopes stood on brass stands near the thick windows. Kahlil sat at the desk, sampling his stew and trying not to stare as Ji lapped hers up from a gilded plate on the floor. She ate surprisingly daintily considering her form.
    Despite the lure of the warm meal, Kahlil couldn’t keep himself from the telescopes. Soon he stood behind one, surveying all the surrounding lands.  
    Snow still capped the dark mountains that rose all around. The air felt cold and thin, the way Kahlil had remembered it being in Rathal’pesha. But the similarity between the two locations ended there.  
    The mountains spreading out from the massive fortress of Vundomu were almost as straight as walls. Neither wind nor weather had yet eroded their sharp peaks. Their sheer cliff faces circled north, forming an immense ring around the huge lake, which lay across much of the valley below. From the mouth of the lake flowed a deep river.
      And when Kahlil briefly turned the telescope south, he realized the river rolled directly beneath Vundomu’s black iron walls, heavy guns and godhammers, to feed into the headwaters of the great Samsira River.  
    Kahlil hadn’t remembered the river reaching so far north. He had been almost certain that it had required railways to reach Vundomu from Nurjima. When he said as much, Ji nodded her gray and gold head.
    “During the Seven Years’ War we destroyed their trains.” She briefly flashed her yellowed teeth. “Jath’ibaye brought the river up over their stations and tracks. Now if they want a war they have to swim upstream.”
    A shudder shivered down Kahlil’s spine at the thought of the Rifter unleashing such force. His memory flickered with the images of crumbling mountains and shattered kingdoms that had filled so many holy books. Just how far would Jath’ibaye go to protect his Fai’daum?
    Kahlil turned his attention back to the kingdom that Jath’ibaye had forged from the ruins of the northlands. Gazing down, Kahlil could make out the traces of the Vundomu he remembered. The original walls curved like ribs around new domes and towers of red stone and glittering glass. From the steep southern walls, the structures of Vundomu cascaded in gentle avenues of shops, cottages, clock towers and raised walkways down to the vast lake at its feet.  
    The three verdant islands that rose from the lake reminded Kahlil of gigantic shells in their perfect symmetry. Stately white buildings dominated what appeared to be a village occupying the largest island. The other two seemed lush and wild, even this early in the northern spring. Hundreds of small boats darted across the lake’s glassy surface, sailing between the islands.
    Carefully, Kahlil adjusted the lenses of the telescope, focusing in on one bright blue