Siege of Draestl

by Randall Seeley

  A Templar leapt from the wall of the castle and landed on the dragon’s back. She was small but agile, and her draestl sword went to work. The dragon tried to toss her from its back but the Templar thrust the blade into the back of the dragon’s head. The blade sliced through scales and stuck. The dragon screamed and reared, swinging its head back and forth to try to knock the Templar free, but she held on to the handle of her blade. Soon the dragon tired, and the Templar pulled her blade free and swiped it down, beheading the dragon.

  The dragon transformed and the Templar crashed to the ground.

  “Let’s go,” she said, and then she disappeared back into the battle.

  Wayd was helped to his feet and they rushed forward. Soon they reached their line and cheers sounded around them. We’re safe. We made it!

  “Inside! Everyone inside!” Malithan shouted as he reached the portcullis. It rose quickly and the defenders rushed inside. They pushed through the walls—they were a dozen feet thick—and into the courtyard of the castle. The portcullis slammed shut behind them and soldiers began dropping to the ground in exhaustion. They had survived. At least for now.

  “Malithan! You are alive!” someone said as medics and soldiers rushed forward to treat their company.

  Wayd tried to take it all in. The air seemed to be fresher here, and for once there weren’t the incessant screams of the dying. But then he heard the banging of the Draebek as they pounded against the wall. He heard shouts from above as siege weapons fired into the courtyard to keep Draebek and dragons at bay. He knew they didn’t have much time. Malithan approached with a smile.

  “We made it,” he said softly.

  “Barely,” Wayd said, exhausted.

  “Take a drink,” Malithan said as he pushed a flask toward Wayd. Wayd took it and quickly downed its contents. The water was refreshing.

  “I wish there was time to recover,” Malithan said softly as he surveyed the situation. “But we must enact our plan immediately. The Draebek will take down these walls quickly if we aren’t out there fighting, but we are too weak to put up any kind of resistance. We have to enact the plan. Have you been given a status of casualties yet?”

  Wayd looked up at him and felt ashamed. “I haven’t done anything,” he confessed. He turned to the others and felt a little bit better when he saw everyone else sitting as well.

  Malithan smiled a comforting smile then stood up and asked for an update. A Templar who appeared to be in charge approached and began relaying a report. Wayd admired how Malithan could still be focused. He handed the flask to another soldier and tried to clear his head. Then he listened to Malithan.

  “Half of our men? Dead?” Malithan was saying. He rubbed a hand through his hair and shook his head.

  A chill went down Wayd’s spine. That meant over five hundred men were killed—in several hours.

  “But nearly all of the citizens are here?” Malithan asked.

  “They followed protocol better than soldiers, Malithan. Outside of the several dozen who were killed in the initial attack, we haven’t lost a single one,” the Templar reported. “The Eagles are currently moving the majority of them through the tunnel.”

  “Good,” Malithan said, obviously relieved. “Then it’s time. Everyone, gather around to listen,” Malithan instructed. He paused on Gregor before turning to the others. He reminded them briefly of their roles before turning to Wayd.

  “Wayd, choose your company. Remember the most we can spare is thirty, and a pair of Templars and Seekers. Your force needs to be small enough that you can remain nimble, but large enough that Thraegar needs to pull resources to stop it. Be quick about it.” Malithan commanded.

  Wayd nodded. “I want Hillup’s platoon. Owen, you’ll take the rest of the Wolves.”

  Owen nodded. “That will work.”

  “Then all you need is a new pair of dragon slayers,” Gauden said.

  Wayd had no idea who to choose. He had assumed Templar Arthron and Seeker Kalaia would accompany him, but they were still recovering. He looked at them now. Arthron’s face was pale, and he slumped in the chair he was sitting in. The medics wanted to look at his wound again but Arthron kept waving them away. He looked better than he had, but he still looked like he was one precarious step away from death.

  Seeker Kalaia had mostly recovered, but she sat next to Arthron with her head in her hands. He wasn’t sure if it was because she was injured, or because she was exhausted. Probably both.

  Wayd knew he had to choose someone else. He wished he’d taken more time to get to know the Templars and Seekers who were stationed at Old Draestl, but he figured there wasn’t any need since he had Arthron and Kalaia. I couldn’t have been any more wrong.

  “Any you recommend?” he asked Gauden.

  “Templar Yana and Seeker Phillip,” Gauden answered without hesitation. “I’ve known them for years. That’s them,” Gauden said as he pointed to a pair that was in the middle of the courtyard.

  They were an odd pair. Seeker Phillip rivaled the size of Gauden and he had an edge in his eyes that exuded confidence. Wayd recognized Templar Yana. She was the Templar who had leapt from the castle and killed the dragon that had blocked their path. She was tiny—even smaller than Alaina—but that didn’t concern him. He had seen how easily she had killed that dragon.

  “Then we’ll take them,” Wayd said.

  “A good choice,” Malithan said as he observed the party Wayd had chosen. Then he extended a hand. Wayd accepted it and Malithan wrapped both hands around his own. Malithan smiled softly and said, “Then this is it, Wayd. Be careful. Gather your horses discreetly and hide your force. No telling who is watching,” he said as he pointed above. “Once hidden, wait for my command.”

  “Owen!” Malithan shouted.

  Owen stood next to Gregor. “Yes, sir?” Owen asked.

  “Are you ready?” Malithan asked.

  Owen and Gregor nodded. The long look that passed between Malithan and Gregor made it seem as if Malithan was reconsidering his decision to send Gregor to his death, but after a moment he nodded again.

  “Good,” Malithan said. “Then we begin. Everyone, at my signal—three fiery arrows thirty seconds apart, followed by our ballistae raining down fiery death on these bloody fools—make your way out of the courtyard and toward the western flank. We need to be quick, so make it look convincing. Any last questions?”

  “Sir?” Owen asked, looking a bit sheepish.

  Wayd raised an eyebrow.

  Malithan looked at him. “Yes?” he asked patiently.

  “One problem,” Owen said softly. He pointed out beyond the wall toward the courtyard, where the ring of battle still sounded. “What about all of that? Last time I checked there are hundreds of Draebek out in the courtyard, and hundreds more between here and the western wall.”

  A wicked smile spread across Malithan’s face that sent a shiver down Wayd’s spine. “I’ve been thinking about that from the moment you suggested this plan. It’s part of my signal. Just be ready. Understood?”

  Wayd and Owen shared a look, but neither of them said anything. They nodded.

  “Then let’s begin,” Malithan said. “Move into position.”

  All of them turned to move.

  Wayd felt a deep pit form in his stomach and he said a quick prayer that they might somehow survive this day.

  Malithan reached the battlements and scanned the carnage below. He knew it was bad, but he didn’t realize it was this bad. The courtyard was clogged with soldiers from both sides, with more Draebek pouring into it by the moment. Dragons left the ground to do sweeping strikes against the castle walls, firing bolts of fire that would crash into the wall and shower debris onto those below. He watched as Templars and Seekers leapt after them, catching them by surprise and taking them down to the courtyard below, only to disappear a moment later under a sea of Draebek soldiers.

  Ballistae and catapults fired at will, crashing into the flying dragons or exploding into the Draebek below. Scream
s sounded with every blast.

  They were holding, but just barely.

  As he scanned the scene, doubts began to overcome their hopeful plan.

  He glanced beyond the courtyard and his doubt grew. A massive army was directly to the north, coming in like an unstoppable force, decimating any building that stood in their way as they slowly made their way toward the inner castle. There had to be thousands of Draebek who stormed the streets, followed by dozens of massive war machines that crumbled the city with ease. Dear Creator, they are razing Old Draestl!

  He realized that the only reason they weren’t completely overrun was because Thraegar was moving his siege weapons through Old Draestl. He watched as buildings were wrecked, then flattened with massive machines that dragons pulled. It was slow and tedious, but it was creating a clear path through Old Draestl. It was only a matter of time before they reached the castle. And then Draestl beyond. Malithan surmised that this approach would save Thraegar weeks of time compared with having to build siege machines on the other side of Old Draestl. Thraegar must have been planning this assault for years…

  He glanced to the eastern wall and saw that his earlier assessment was correct. The eastern wall was completely flattened, and whatever defense was left was either dead or hiding in the streets. The Draebek force was navigating through the streets until they joined with the main force coming from the north.

  That makes things easier for Wayd, Malithan thought. They had originally intended the Wolves to force a redirection of the eastern Draebek force, but they were already moving away from the east on their own.

  He looked to the western wall and saw that it was in a similar state. The wall itself was destroyed, but there appeared to be at least a platoon of the Draestl Dragons still holding their ground, somehow. He felt a pang of sadness as he recalled who was fighting there, and of the men that he knew were already lost, and then of the men who would be lost as they enacted this plan. He started longing for his books, but then he shook his head, letting the anger of the whole situation focus his senses.

  “Anything surprising?” Templar Kilth asked from the side.

  Malithan turned to regard the Templar that had been manning this part of the battlement—and who was now his personal protector. Templar Kilth was a wiry man—tall, skinny, and had a gaunt look to his face—but like all other Templars, he was effective at what he did. His companion, Seeker Yoth, was his identical twin. The only way he could tell the difference between the two was their garb—Kilth was dressed in Templar armor, and Yoth in traditional Seeker robes. They looked exhausted.

  He observed the other men on the tower. There were dozens of them, in a steady rotation behind the ballistae and catapults. Four to a ballista, with another who acted as a runner to ensure they had adequate supplies to keep the rotation moving. They had to revert to catapults as well because it was easier to fire whatever they had left—armor, swords, rocks, debris. They were running out of supplies.

  “The only thing surprising,” Malithan answered, “is that we aren’t already overrun. Did you bring it?” he asked.

  Templar Kilth nodded, gesturing to a dozen barrels that men were settling near the battlement walls. “We gathered as much as we could. We had plenty, but we’ve obviously been using it due to our current circumstances.”

  Malithan nodded. Twelve barrels. That should be enough. Needs to be enough.

  “And the blankets?” Malithan asked.

  “They’re coming. We stripped the storerooms of supplies. They’ll be here in a moment. What’s your plan? I heard the Wolves are trying to redirect Thraegar’s forces by rushing the western wall, but how will they ever get through that?” Kilth asked as he pointed at the courtyard.

  “The problem with our plan has always been how to get through the force in front of us,” Malithan answered with a smile. “And I have just the solution. I’ve been thinking about it from the moment I first saw Templars engage with dragons.”

  “That so?” the Templar asked as he raised an eyebrow.

  There was a sudden commotion as a dragon flew by, blasting fire that narrowly missed their heads. The soldiers sprang into action, one grabbing the ballista guide and moving it until the dragon was in its path. The others used the winch to pull back the bow strings and arm it, then they fired in one smooth motion. The bolt aimed true, but the dragon turned at the last second, knocking the bolt to the side with a claw. Then it turned and flew directly toward them.

  As it neared the battlement, Seeker Yoth pulled out a vial of dragonsbane and threw it at the beast while in the same motion he began to twirl his staff. The staff’s runes ignited, and the dragonsbane exploded, smothering the dragon. The dragon roared in pain.

  Templar Kilth leapt off the battlement and landed on the back of the screaming dragon. His sword stabbed the Draebek rider, and then he spun in one motion and stabbed his sword into the dragon’s head.

  As the dragon died and began to transform back to its original form, Kilth jumped off its body and landed back on the battlement before the dragon fell to the ground.

  “See,” Malithan observed as he stood up and brushed off debris from the fire blast. “You always engage with dragonsbane,” Malithan stated.

  “Of course we do,” Kilth answered. “It disorients and burns them. It would be like if someone set us on fire!”

  “Exactly. Dragonsbane can do a massive amount of damage to the very beasts that can ruin our entire plan. Think about it. As soon as Owen shows the Wolves flag, every dragon in Old Draestl is going to fly straight at him. Everyone is worried about the force in the courtyard, but I’m worried about the dragons.”

  “What does that have to do with dragonsbane?” Kilth asked. Then his mouth dropped open and sudden realization crossed his face. “The blankets.”

  Malithan’s smile spread. “We’ve been using dragonsbane on one dragon at a time. But what if we fire it into the air, right as all of them are gathering, and ignite it all at once?”

  “Boom!” Kilth said with a laugh.

  “Boom!” Malithan nodded. “If we are lucky, it will take out most of the dragons all at once. Worst case, it will clear a path for us to take down the gate to the courtyard. Look over there,” Malithan said as he pointed to the northern gate of the courtyard.

  “It looks severely damaged,” Kilth observed.

  Malithan nodded. “Severely damaged is an understatement. From the reports I received, the Draebek basically knocked that wall over to gain a foothold in the courtyard. And we’ll use that to our advantage. If we can hit the walls near the gate, it should collapse in on itself and be impossible to pass through. That will cut off any Draebek reinforcements until the siege weapons arrive, which should give the Wolves enough time to make a successful run at the western wall and hopefully redirect the remaining Draebek forces outside of the courtyard.”

  Malithan stopped as he saw that everyone on the tower had gathered to listen to his idea. The look of hope on their faces either confirmed that it was a good idea, or that they were all as crazy as he was.

  “That just might work,” Kilth said with a smile. “And it will be the most beautiful spectacle I imagine I’ll ever see!”

  Malithan smiled. “I agree.” Then he turned to the men who anxiously waited for their orders. Several men arrived on the battlements carrying bundles of blankets. It’s all coming together.

  “Are you ready?” he asked them.

  “Yes, sir!” they yelled.

  “Then douse everything with dragonsbane and get ready to give these dragons the last surprise of their life!”

  Owen extended his hand to Wayd. “Best of luck, Wayd, you’re going to need it,” he said solemnly. He tried to make it a joke to ease the tension—Wayd looked like he had just seen a ghost, and he assumed he looked no better—but it came off strained.

  Wayd was polite enough to attempt a half smile, but it made him look even more frightened. “You’re not going to try to run off again, are you?” Wayd asked him.


  Owen bristled. “Hey! I came back. And this was my bloody idea, after all, I mean—”

  “Trying to break the tension is all, no offense intended.” Wayd laughed.

  “None taken,” Owen said, still sticking his hand out. “You going to take my hand?”

  Wayd accepted his handshake and they laughed. “So this is it then? Do you really think this will work?”

  “It has to,” Owen said. He couldn’t help but feel a wave of guilt wash over him as they started to implement the plan. His plan. He knew it was desperate, and even a little crazy—ok, maybe really crazy—and for a moment he regretted his decision to bring it up in the first place. It was suicide. It required everything to go perfectly, and the more he thought about it, the more he realized how flawed a plan it was. We don’t even know how to get out of the bloody courtyard!

  “It will be fine,” Wayd said softly. Owen could hear the fear in his friend’s voice, but he also saw the committed—and stubborn—look in his eyes. Wayd was going through with this whether Owen wanted him to or not.

  “I know,” Owen said. “It’s just—”

  “It’s time to execute,” Wayd said again. “Be safe, Owen. This plan will work. We just have to execute it flawlessly. I’ll do my part, and you do yours.”

  Owen nodded. He appreciated his friend’s confidence. He glanced back at the Wolves, who were eagerly waiting for the signal to commence. They looked wary, but he was amazed at how far they had come over the past year. Most of them had been as ignorant and naive as he had been before they were trapped in the pass, and here they were again, ready to embark on a mission that they could only hope to survive. But he knew they would do it. Willingly.

  “Be ready!” Lieutenant Gregor sounded as he rode up and down their formation. He stopped near Owen and Wayd and nodded his head toward them. Owen had no idea how the man stayed so calm. He had been given a death sentence, and he was approaching it as if it were a Sunday brunch.