Siege of Draestl

by Randall Seeley

  “Great work, Captain Hangdor,” General Fadden said. Then he locked eyes with him and Malithan stared into the deep, dark black. “Malithan,” he said, and then paused.

  From the way General Fadden grew rigid, Malithan knew the general was dealing with conflicting emotions. He doubts this just as much as I do. He took a deep breath.

  “It will work, General,” he said. He had tried to sound more convincing, but it came out as more of a question. He cleared his throat and continued. “What we learned in Old Draestl will work,” he finally managed to say.

  General Fadden nodded and gave a soft smile. The smile was odd coming from such a formidable man. “That’s good enough for me,” General Fadden said. “Like I said, this is good work. Every moment that helps the men to survive is a good moment.”

  “That it is, General,” Malithan said. He smiled despite his doubt.

  “Look,” General Fadden said as he pointed ahead at the enemy army.

  Malithan looked, and swallowed hard. There was a haze of smoke rising from the dragon pens. Malithan knew what that meant.

  The siege was about to begin.

  14

  Siege Of Draestl

  Have you ever been in a siege? Locked behind walls that you had built for your defense, but now served as a way to trap you? Perhaps until you die? It’s an unsettling feeling being trapped in a siege. When the only thing you can do is defend, and pray that the enemy loses interest before you run out of supplies. Because if you run out of supplies, your defensive walls become your tomb.

  Owen looked at the Wolves, who appeared just as nervous as he felt. They stood in careful lines as they were trained to do, but it was their eyes that betrayed them. Each one would look at him and then their eyes would discreetly shift toward the wall and the commotion above.

  “It’s beginning?” Seeker Kalaia asked as she and Templar Arthron both looked to the battlements.

  There was no doubt there was movement, followed by shouts as people were directed into position. Owen felt useless. He felt frustrated.

  “Curse me and turn me into a dragon!” he swore.

  Seeker Kalaia opened her mouth to rebuke him, but Owen put a hand up to keep her from saying anything. The last thing I bloody need is a lecture from a bloody grandma!

  “Pardon?” Seeker Kalaia said, her eyes icy.

  Owen looked at her quizzically.

  “You just said that out loud.” Arthron glared.

  Owen blushed. “Uh, sorry,” he said, and then he moved his attention back to the wall. He began another thought of curses but stopped, and carefully glanced at Seeker Kalaia, who was still staring at him. He thought that perhaps they were just teasing him, until she carefully mouthed the word grandma and glared at him.

  “What? You basically are!” Owen tried to explain.

  That won him little points as her glare darkened into a look of death.

  He had to get out of here. Had to do something.

  “I’ll be back,” he explained to no one in particular—though he hoped Arthron was listening—and then he turned toward the battlement. He didn’t wait for anyone to acknowledge and instead made his way to the stairs, his mind racing.

  Before he had made up his mind, he reached the top of the battlements, and when he did, he immediately regretted it because now he knew exactly why there was commotion.

  The battle was about to begin.

  The Draebek horde appeared like millions of locusts crawling out of a hive as they moved into position. A thick mist formed behind them and rose into the air, surrounding them and masking their approach.

  What is that? he wondered, until he saw the first shape rise above the mist. A black dragon. Its wings beat away the wisps of smoke that were emanating from it. Then another dragon appeared. And another. Soon there were hundreds.

  “Dear Creator, have mercy on our souls!” Owen prayed.

  He heard several soldiers shout in fear, and he realized that being on the wall wasn’t the best place to be. He scolded himself for not realizing that earlier. I was already blown off a wall yesterday, what made me think today was going to be any different?

  He turned to move when a voice called out from behind him.

  “Lieutenant Delmsmith?”

  Owen recognized the voice. General Fadden. Great. He once again regretted his impatient decision to come up here.

  He turned, and saw General Fadden and Malithan Hangdor standing side by side. “What are you doing up here?” General Fadden asked again. “Is everything in order in the courtyard?”

  The bloody courtyard…

  “Uh, yes…sir,” he added. He had always hated talking to generals, and for a moment he thought about General Brathe from Zahkar. He still had plans to fire that fool when he was high enough in the military. Then he stopped, and coughed, confused at the thought he had just had. High enough in the military? I’m getting out, remember?

  “Then why are you up here?” Malithan asked. “As you can see ,we are about to—”

  “I need to help,” Owen said emphatically. “I can’t stay hidden—the Wolves can’t stay hidden—when Wayd’s out there,” he said as he pointed toward the enemy.

  “Now is not the time,” General Fadden said. “As you can see—”

  “There!” one of the men yelled. “They’re coming!”

  Owen was grateful that General Fadden didn’t have a chance to finish that sentence as his attention was diverted back to the enemy ahead. Owen swallowed as he inspected the approaching army.

  The ground force—a solid wall of Draebek warriors—approached uniformly, their formations as wide across as the walls of Draestl. They moved with trained precision that rivaled the army of Ardonor, and Owen realized that the attack on Old Draestl was probably a practice drill. Today they had come for war.

  But it was the dragons that had caught his attention. Some dragons of all shapes and sizes flew ahead of the others with riders on their backs. Then larger dragons that had transports tethered to them brought up the rear. Their movement was a reminder of how easily they overpowered them yesterday. We don’t stand a chance. He watched as they moved forward as one, the thick smoke following them. He knew the smoke came from the dragons’ fire and was impressed with how wide it formed. It filled the air behind them, above them, and it crept forward all around them like a blanket of death. Soon it blocked most of the sunlight. An eerie haze covered them.

  Several dragons moved to the forefront, and Owen recognized Thraegar Thornclaw at their head. His stomach knotted in fear, but was replaced a moment later with anger. He had never been so angry at someone in his life. In the past, he rarely found himself getting upset because he lived his life on the grounds that people get what they deserve. Sure, other people would get mad at him—like when he would steal their girls—but it was always his opinion that if someone stole his girl, they deserved her, because she chose the other person over him. Why should he be mad about that?

  But with Thraegar it was different. He had taken Owen’s best friend. And he was going to pay.

  He looked at Malithan and heard him barking orders to the closest soldiers. He looked at General Fadden, who literally looked like a knight in shining armor, and Owen had to stifle a laugh as he visualized the general like a hero in the stories his parents told him growing up. But when the general looked at him and they locked eyes, all sense of levity passed.

  General Fadden was afraid. And Owen knew why.

  We are all going to die.

  As soon as the thought entered his mind, he looked around to make sure he hadn’t said it out loud. No one paid him any heed, so he assumed he hadn’t.

  Malithan approached. “If it’s anything like yesterday, Thraegar, that dragon there,” Malithan said as he pointed toward the dragon in front, “will try to negotiate our surrender. We may,” Malithan said as he shifted his eyes, “want to acquiesce.”

  General Fadden nodded.

  Owen tried to process everything. He watched as Thraegar appr
oached and felt a surge of anger again. Thraegar looked like a gladiator as he approached. His black armor glistened in the sunlight as he flew on the back of his red and black dragon. His dragon was powerful and large, its majestic dragon armor also catching the light of the morning sun. It was as if they were a glowing arrow quickly approaching their target.

  Owen knew he had to do something.

  “Then we wait,” General Fadden finally answered.

  Owen had to do a double take before he remembered the conversation Malithan and Fadden were having. He looked at Malithan, who was nodding. He couldn’t help himself.

  “We’re going to wait?” he asked. General Fadden nodded, and Malithan turned to look at him. Owen could tell Malithan was just as troubled as he, but Owen could also tell Malithan was going to take the safe course of action. The only thing Owen could think of was the bartering that happened yesterday.

  “First we need to see what he wants to offer,” Malithan explained. “And we are ready if those discussions don’t go our way,” he finished as he gestured toward the siege engines.

  Owen prayed that they would work, but could only think back to yesterday. He thought about what Thraegar had said. All he wanted was Wayd. That was the only thing that had kept him from annihilating them right away. But he had Wayd now. So what else did Thraegar want?

  Our death.

  He began to share his revelation when a booming voice sounded above everything.

  “People of Draestl,” it yelled. Owen grimaced as he recognized it. Thraegar Thornclaw.

  “We have come—”

  Owen stopped listening. Instead he watched. He looked at Thraegar carefully, and then at the men. Everyone was trained on him, and Thraegar flew several dozen feet away from them. He was ahead of the other dragons, and it appeared like it was an approach of peace to have negotiations prior to battle. But Owen couldn’t stop thinking of yesterday. He attacked as soon as it didn’t go his way. Why would today be any different? Owen couldn’t shake the feeling that something else was happening.

  He looked at the men and saw that not only were they focused on Thraegar, but they were enthralled with him. Even Malithan and General Fadden. They said something in return to Thraegar but Owen missed it. He turned back toward the dragons.

  They all flew carefully in line, flying in formation as orderly as the army below. None were making a move. Maybe I’m letting my anger get to me.

  He thought of the Wolves and turned to face them. He felt like a fool for storming up here to distract himself, and realized that he belonged down with his men. They were just as nervous as he, and felt just as useless. They need me right now. They need—

  He stopped as he turned. Something had caught his eye. It was odd because it came from above him. It was the first time he realized that the hazy smoke was all around him now. His visibility was limited. He wondered why fog would suddenly appear until he remembered the smoke from the dragon pens earlier. The same smoke that followed the dragons as they rose into the air.

  His heart began to pound and he focused his attention. Something seemed to catch sunlight above him. Directly above him. He tried to peer into the fog to see what it was, but it was too thick.

  He moved to the side to get a better angle, and a flash of light caught his attention. This time to the south. He tried looking through the fog to get a better view.

  Then a strong gust of wind flew from the south and the smoke cleared for a moment, and Owen felt his heart drop.

  High above them was a dragon transport, filled to the brim with angry Draebek. Another gust revealed additional transports. He understood what was happening.

  Thraegar was a diversion while the dragons moved into position. Thraegar must have known he’d need to cripple Malithan’s siege engines, so he was distracting the Draestl defense until he could move enough Draebek into position to strike and take out the siege engines from above. The smoke, the careful movement, the calm conversation—it was all a distraction until they got into position.

  His heart raced and he realized he needed to do something. He was about to alert Malithan, but stopped. He tried to think of what Thraegar would be watching for. If he was Thraegar, he would be watching for signs that his plan was failing, and if the enemy showed any signs of uncovering his plan, he would immediately strike. Owen looked above and saw the smoke blocking his view again, but he knew what he had seen. He knew the dragon transports were up there. They’re watching us.

  Whatever he decided, he had to do it stealthily.

  He looked at Malithan and General Fadden and listened for a moment. They were negotiating back and forth. Thraegar was effectively manipulating them. And with each passing second more dragons moved into position. Owen had to act. His mind raced to try to find an idea of what to do.

  I have to surprise them.

  But he had no idea how. He inspected the dragons in front of him. He recognized them now for what they were—a decoy—and realized that Thraegar had once again distracted them. By having a huge force in front, they wouldn’t even notice the smoke that was forming all around them. It was brilliant.

  But then he saw Thraegar and two others who had joined him. They were ahead of the others. They were in range.

  He smiled as a plan formed in his mind. If I could take out Thraegar…

  He started his way toward one of the siege engines. Ballistae were everywhere. There were a few directly in front of him, but he also knew those were in Thraegar’s line of sight. He glanced around and then spotted one. Just off to the side a dozen paces away. It’s out of Thraegar’s line of sight, but still within range…

  With a deep breath, he moved toward the ballista as nonchalantly as possible. He couldn’t help the smile from forming on his lips. You want to take us by surprise? I’ll give you a surprise!

  The inside of the command tent was bustling with activity, and Wayd felt very out of place. Runners came in and out as they reported on activity from the army. It meant there was a constant brisk breeze permeating through the tent, and Wayd was grateful he was wearing his armor.

  There were tables near the center of the tent with maps strewn across them with pieces that looked like markers of the Draebek army placed atop them carefully. Korin approached the tables and Wayd and Gauden followed, and he was impressed with how accurate and detailed the maps were. A shiver went down his spine as he realized that the only way for the Draebek to have obtained such detailed maps was if they had been scouting diligently for some time. He was embarrassed that he had assumed Thraegar had been inactive since his defeat in Gaud’s pass. Seeing the well-orchestrated assault before him, he realized that Thraegar was living up to his promised threat that he would come for Wayd. And come he has…

  He looked at who stood around the table. Braethrin Bor had a hard and skeptical look as he regarded the markers on the table. Wayd could tell by the careful way he looked at the others that he was trying to appear like he was cooperating, but there was no mistaking the guarded aura he was emanating. Wayd couldn’t blame him and was glad there was still a rift between the clans.

  Delthezar Drat was also at the table, but his son was nowhere to be seen. Just as Gauden assumed. Delthezar wasn’t as guarded as Braethrin, but he too had a hard edge to his look after yesterday’s events.

  Both were garbed in armor, and each leaned over the maps attentively. As Wayd approached the tables, he tried to study their forces, but as Draebek moved around the table he only saw small portions of the map and never the entire landscape. He saw enough to recognize how the Draebek were going to attack. One force from the front—led by the Red Claws—another from the south, and a third group that looked like it was going to attack from the city itself. He wasn’t sure what that meant.

  He also saw Shaman. “Shaman assist in war?” he asked Gauden.

  Gauden raised an eyebrow. “This is all new to me as well,” Gauden replied.

  Korin smiled. “I can answer that for you,” he answered. “Come with me, away from t
he others,” he said as he moved to the edge of the command tent. “In fact, it looks like Shadmay herself may answer your question.”

  Wayd and Gauden watched as Shadmay Silverclaw broke away from the other Shaman and headed in their direction near one of the walls. The command tent was large, but they were still close enough to the center that he could clearly make out the maps as Draebek shuffled around them. As Shadmay joined them, Korin extended a welcoming hand. Wayd couldn’t help but notice how Korin’s eyes shifted as if he was trying to see if anyone was giving them notice. Why would he care?

  Shadmay was dressed in a similar gown as yesterday, but her hair was done differently. There wasn’t a headdress or any ornaments. Instead, her hair was braided in several locks and fell well past her waist. He was once again astonished by her elderly beauty and presence.

  “I trust you are doing well today?” Shadmay asked in a melodious voice.

  Wayd nodded. Gauden said, “As well as we might be considering the circumstances. You? You get any rest after yesterday’s events?”

  Wayd was surprised at how bold Gauden was, but was grateful for the question because there was no doubt when Shadmay and Korin looked unsettled.

  “As well as we might,” Shadmay answered.

  They were quiet for a time, before Korin cleared his throat. “Shadmay, they were wondering about the role of Shaman during war.”

  Shadmay nodded, and then glanced at the tables before looking back at Wayd. “We are spiritual guides. Most of our assistance comes prior to battle as we prepare, and then after as we deal with injuries and death. Do you know how we help prepare?”

  Wayd was surprised she was asking him the question, and he was disappointed he had no idea how to answer. “Um, no, ma’am,” he said after he struggled for a moment to think of what title he should give her. “Unfortunately I don’t know very much about Draebek. And the little I do know, I’m not so certain of anymore.”