Garnuk frowned, puzzled, and glanced at the eastern horizon. The sun was not yet up, and the sky was not even brightening. “Odd time for an attack,” he observed. “And a strange location as well.”
“Aye,” Tarq agreed. “On the harbor side, attackers could easily be pinned against the sea and crushed. And it would be difficult to get anywhere near the walls to begin with . . . what is going on down there?”
Tarq shook his head in confusion. “I have no idea,” he admitted, “But this sort of strategy could well explain how the city has held for so long.”
Garnuk nodded absently, searching the harbor front for any clues as to what was going on. Bodies were thrashing in the throes of combat, but not on the walls. The battle was taking place between the city and the sea, and the gate was open. On the walls above, archers were desperately pouring arrows into the vertaga ranks.
“The men have left the safety of the city,” Garnuk murmured. “Why? What fool of a commander would open his gates and expose his warriors this way?”
“A hostage exchange gone wrong?” Tarq wondered, grimacing.
Garnuk chuckled. “You know as well as I that our kind do not take men hostage.”
“Yes,” Tarq agreed, “But there are not many other explanations which make sense. Could the human commander have been trying to lure the Usurper’s warriors in and then crush them from above?”
“It’s not going well if that was his plan,” Garnuk countered. He had been measuring the progress of the battle as Tarq was speaking. “The Sthan are being driven back towards their gate, and they are going to have a tough time getting it shut once they get there.”
A horn sounded in the city, and a low rumble began to build from a point near the central tower. Garnuk swiveled away from the battle at the gates and quickly found a group of dozens of horsemen galloping through the streets.
“Reinforcements,” he murmured to Tarq. “Riders. This could get interesting.”
“If there was ever a moment to unveil a secret weapon, you would think this is it,” Tarq observed, looking around.
Garnuk nodded distractedly. “The Sthan fight well,” he observed, a little surprised.
“They are men,” Tarq said contemptuously.
“But not so weak as the one’s we remember,” Garnuk told him. “Look at them. Evaluate them as you would our own soldiers. These are warriors, Tarq. They are strong. And they are fueled by the fact that they defend their homes.”
Tarq shook his horned head. “They will not last,” he warned, “They have not the endurance of vertaga.”
At that moment, the horsemen crashed through the fray at the gates, clearing a space around the portal and driving the vertaga back for a moment. The line of Sthan warriors strengthened and reformed, withdrawing smartly towards the gate. But the vertaga recovered too quickly, closing on the defenders before they could even think about sealing the gates again.
“A good try,” Tarq observed, snorting quietly, “But they underestimated our kin.”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Garnuk observed, amused.
“Before the Usurper, it was men who thwarted us,” Tarq growled. “It is good to see they are the ones struggling to survive this time.” He turned to Garnuk, eyes burning with a pained fervor. “Our downfall began with the Sthan. The Usurper is only finishing it now.”
Garnuk nodded soberly. “Aye,” he agreed turning back to watch the battle. As he did, he noticed a faint movement on the western horizon.
“A ship,” he breathed, catching sight of sails and a dark hull against the water. “Just offshore!”
“Perhaps the Sthan were attempting to smuggle more warriors or supplies into the city,” Tarq guessed, shrugging his massive shoulders.
“And the vertaga sentries saw the ship approaching and the men waiting for the ship and decided to attack,” Garnuk finished, nodding. “If the Sthan have pulled off that sort of quick resupply before, it would help explain the length of the siege.”
“I still blame the Usurper’s inferior officers,” Tarq said, curling his lip scornfully. “If we commanded those warriors, we would have won the battle long ago.”
“They fight well.”
“But as individuals. Not in a concerted effort. It’s chaos down there as far as I can tell.”
A jet of light and fire streaked across the water, stinging Garnuk’s eyes with its brightness. Garnuk gasped and blinked furiously, trying to see what had happened. Then, another projectile skimmed across the water and slashed through the packed vertaga onshore. A moment passed, then a boulder was hurled into the air, and a rolling crash carried up to them, reverberating off the mountain.
“The ship is joining the fight,” Garnuk muttered. “That could well tip the scales.”
“Still no weapon, though,” Tarq added, snarling with frustration and anxiety.
“Patience,” Garnuk said, laying a clawed hand on his companion’s shoulder. “Patience, old friend.”
The fight raged on, neither side able to gain an advantage. The sun rose in the east and began climbing towards its zenith, ignoring the struggling men and vertaga below and tracing its constant path. The battle took no heed of the passage of time, seeming to be an endless stalemate no matter how many warriors from both sides fell. Reinforcements would arrive periodically from the city or from the lands surrounding it, but somehow neither side seemed capable of gaining even a temporary advantage. The Sthan ship remained offshore, hurling boulders and heavy, flaming spears into the masses, but unable to unload its cargo.
Garnuk and Tarq grew restless, distanced from the action as they were. There was little to do save watch, listen, and wait, and the waiting was wearing thin. As they watched, Garnuk made notes about where the vertaga reinforcements came from, guessing those points to be some of the camps Tarq had theorized were scattered around the city. He also tried to keep track of the relative numbers that each side was fielding, but soon gave up due to the chaos and the fact that the slain were piling up in front of Ishkabur’s walls.
“Come on,” Tarq muttered under his breath as the sun dipped towards the horizon. “Finish them already.” Garnuk was not sure which side he was urging on. He thought about asking his captain and was on the point of doing so, when a flash of light to the west caught his eyes.
“What was that?” he wondered aloud, looking away from the battle for a moment.
“What?” Tarq asked distractedly, still watching the struggling figures below.
“A light, over the sea,” Garnuk said, trying to catch sight of it again.
Tarq shrugged irritably. “I didn’t see it.”
Garnuk opened his mouth to reply, then caught sight of the light again. It was small and far off, but rapidly approaching, glistening like a valuable jewel in the rays of the dying sun. Still he could not tell what it was, except that it was large, very fast, and appeared to be approaching through the sky.
The glittering speck was barreling towards Ishkabur, brighter and larger with every passing second. Still Garnuk could not make out its shape or any defining characteristics to tell him what it might be. Then, abruptly, the light changed course, wheeling up and to the south. Garnuk turned frantically, trying to locate the light, but could not find it.
“Get down!” Tarq hissed. “What are you doing, standing and waving your arms around like that?”
“I lost it,” Garnuk muttered feverishly, searching the skies. “The light just disappeared.”
“Well, get down! I doubt there’s anyone close enough to see us or to care, but just in case there is – ”
THUD.
Garnuk’s eyes widened and he dropped flat at the edge of the cliff, right beside Tarq. “Did you hear that?” he asked as quietly as he could.
Tarq, eyes wide, nodded, his chin scraping the ground as he did.
THUD.
It was louder this time, a pulse that shook the mountainside and rattled small stones. Then, the sound came again and again, faster and faster, speed
ing up until -
An emerald blur streaked past them and down towards Ishkabur, along with a roar so proud and terrible it seemed the very stones the two vertaga were lying on would split.
Garnuk gaped in wonder as he beheld a magnificent emerald beast. Four stout, clawed legs, a muscular tail thrashing the air like a rudder. Razor-sharp, gleaming fangs and a massive body made for destruction. Translucent wings flared as the dragon approached the struggling forces below and it checked its speed slightly.
“By the spirits,” Tarq whispered, awed. “A dragon. The elder spoke the truth!”
The Exile shook his head in disbelief. “By the spirits indeed,” he murmured.
The dragon swooped low along the harbor, menacing the battlefield full of vertaga and Sthan. Then, billowing tongues of flame leapt from its maw and ignited all along the ruined harbor front, clouds of black smoke billowing up into the sky.
“What happened?” Tarq asked anxiously, leaning to the side to get a better view. “Who did the dragon attack?”
“I can’t tell,” Garnuk replied, peering at the desolation. The dragon made another pass, then a third, each time sowing death and destruction. Smoke built into a shadowy, undulating wall, and still the dragon did not break off its attack. Then it landed outside Ishkabur’s walls, and took up a position with its back to the Sthan defenders.
Garnuk stiffened and swore under his breath, even as Tarq did the same beside him. “It fights for the Sthan,” the Exile whispered, horrified. “The dragon fights against vertaga, and against the Usurper.”
And now for the first time Garnuk noticed a smaller figure, a human one, detach itself from the dragon’s back and jump down to the ground. Without even pausing, human and dragon ran forward and attacked the vertaga lines, the human darting and weaving, the dragon roaring, biting, and snapping, occasionally spewing fire. Behind the dragon, the defenders of Ishkabur watched in awe and terror, the battle forgotten for a moment. Then, the archers resumed their deadly rain of arrows and the Sthan warriors stepped up beside the mythical beast, fighting in its shadow.
“This must be what attacked the other fortress,” Garnuk said, glancing at Tarq. “You were right.”
Tarq shook his head slowly. “I made a guess based on what I knew. I did not fully believe it could have been a dragon any more than you did, yet here we are.”
“Here we are,” Garnuk agreed. “And it’s a very good thing we are here. This dragon changes things Tarq. It’s like nothing I have ever seen before.”
“It certainly is impressive,” the captain agreed, shading his eyes. “I’m having a hard time seeing how much damage it is doing though.”
“The human who came with it fights well,” Garnuk observed. “He is protecting the beast’s flank with ease against even the largest of our brethren!”
“How far in the Sthan’s favor does this dragon tip the scales?” Tarq wondered.
A chill stole into Garnuk’s bones as he considered this. “Badly,” he said at last, shuddering. “Very badly. Our only hope is if the Usurper’s army gets to the West Bank, defeats the garrison there, and retreats back to the mountains before the dragon gets there.”
“And if they don’t?”
“I don’t know!” Garnuk snapped. “If the dragon were there for the battle, I doubt the Usurper could win. But he might hurt the enemy badly enough for them to want to just leave us alone and end the war.”
“Or he could induce the wrath of the dragon,” Tarq muttered helpfully.
“Or that,” Garnuk agreed, gnashing his fangs angrily. “If that beast were to fly against Dun Carryl it would spell the end. Did your elder happen to know any legends of how a dragon could be defeated?”
“If he did, he never shared them with us,” Tarq replied. “That doesn’t make for a very good story, especially not in the eyes of cubs.”
Garnuk grunted in reply. Below, the dragon was continuing to savage the vertaga ranks, tearing rams apart with fang and claw, scattering black blood over the stones of the harbor road. The men fought well too, but they were nothing compared to the might of this beast. Wherever the Sthan had found the dragon, they had that day unleashed a force which could not be reined in, not by all the armies in the land. Of this, Garnuk was absolutely certain after mere minutes of watching the dragon fight.
“We have seen what we came for,” Garnuk said after watching the battle a little longer. “Let us go now, before the creature spots us.”
“We do not know the result of the battle,” Tarq pointed out. “That could be important information.”
Garnuk hesitated, looking around. “We can keep an eye on it as we move away,” he decided finally, “But I think the battle is all but over at this point. The Sthan have won.”
“Are you ready to concede the war as well?” Tarq asked carefully.
Garnuk squared his shoulders and shook his horned head. “As hopeless as things may seem, I still think that we can end this fight in a stalemate. It will depend on much, the timing of certain battles, of reinforcements, how the Usurper reacts. I just don’t know, Tarq. The odds were certainly better before.”
“Yes,” Tarq agreed, looking back at the glittering dragon. “They were better before.”
The Exile took one more look at the battle, then began picking his way along the side of the mountain, glancing back every few paces to see if anything had changed. The battle wore on, but now it was not evenly matched. Before, the two armies had struggled to and fro with neither side really gaining any ground. Now, the remaining vertaga were being forced back, scattered and broken by the Sthan and the dragon. As Garnuk and Tarq neared the last rise, the one after which they would no longer be able to see the city, the sounds of battle abruptly ceased.
Garnuk stopped, looked back. Smoke still hung above the harbor, shifting on the ocean wind. But now, the ship was rowing towards the shore, and the roars of the dragon were silenced. The defenders still held their weapons, but they were not shooting arrows or fending off vertaga anymore. Every one of the attackers lay slain. The dragon and its human stood close by the gate, talking to another man.
“And so the battle ends,” Tarq observed bitterly. “The Sthan have crushed our kin before them again.”
Garnuk nodded soberly. “Yes. The war goes badly. With Ishkabur freed, the Usurper will have a hard time controlling even the mountains. The Sthan now have a way to bring in unlimited troops by sea, right into our very homes. This bodes ill for the future. If – ”
He broke off as the dragon suddenly appeared in the air, soaring over the city and around the surrounding foothills with breathtaking speed. Garnuk cursed and dashed over the shoulder of the mountain, crouching in its shelter so that the dragon would not be able to see him. Tarq followed a moment later, sliding to a stop beside Garnuk in a spray of snow.
“Warn me next time you plan to abandon me like that,” he muttered. “I’d rather not end up as dinner for that beast if it’s all the same to you.”
“Quiet,” Garnuk snapped as the dragon wheeled closer. “Stay still and silent or it could be both our heads.”
They lay there, face down in the cold ground, hardly daring to move. Garnuk could hear the dragon’s wings flapping as it soared over the mountains. He could almost feel its keen eyes raking over them. Any second it would see them, and dive with a roar, flaming, to end their world in a blistering, scorching wave of fire.
The beast swooped low, the nearest trees bending and thrashing under the wind of its passage. Then, the mountainside was still and silent again. Garnuk cautiously lifted his gaze, and saw the emerald beast soaring over a different section of the mountains, with the human once again astride the dragon. Tarq started to move beside him, but Garnuk put a restraining hand on his back quickly.
“Wait,” he muttered. “Until it is distracted with something else. Then we slip away, back to our camp.”
“Aye,” Tarq muttered, his voice muffled by the frozen ground.
Garnuk turned his attention back to
the beast, watching as it scoured the coast. This went on for some time, until at last the dragon soared back over the city and landed upon the central tower with a cacophony of thuds and cracks as its massive weight settled on the structure. There were other men up there, clearly waiting to speak with the dragon and the human it bore upon its back. Curious, Garnuk thought, that such a magnificent beast would consent to be ridden like a common mule.
“Now is as good a time as any,” he muttered to Tarq. “Let’s get moving before it takes off again.”
The two vertaga inched backwards down the slope until they were well below the shoulder of the mountain, then Garnuk rose to a crouch and turned his back on Ishkabur, running flat out to the east. Tarq followed wordlessly, their feet pounding the ground in rhythm, both disturbed by what they had seen.
They did not stop again until full dark. Garnuk stumbled into a small clearing and fetched up against the thick trunk of an ancient pine, gasping for breath.
“A dragon,” he panted, shaking his head. “So we have found the weapon. But it belongs to the Sthan.”
“This is a disaster,” Tarq moaned. “But at least we know now what we face.”
“Aye,” Garnuk agreed. “And we are the only vertaga who do. Not a word of this to the others, not until I have had time to decide what must be done.”
“Agreed,” Tarq said hoarsely. “But do not take too long to act, Garnuk. If the stories are true, that beast might be able to single-handedly win this war.”
Chapter 40:
The Dragon Effect
The two vertaga slept through the night, not bothering to set a watch. As Tarq put it, knowing the dragon was about to sear them to a crisp did nothing to improve their odds of escaping such an encounter without injury. Sadly, Garnuk had to agree with that assessment.
When morning came though, they were up and moving again without a second thought, racing back to their headquarters as fast as their tiring bodies would allow. The wintery landscape did all it could to hinder them, with snow and ice making even the few level areas in the mountains treacherous. The wind played havoc as well, blowing drifts from branches, setting icicles free with vicious gusts, and knocking over trees weakened by the weight of the ice encrusting their limbs. Whenever this happened, sharp cracking noises echoed through the mountains, causing both warriors to jump in alarm.
The Ramshuk (Heirs of Legacy Book 3) Page 40