Brianna had expected Sorva to spew flames at the beast, but instead, the black dragon’s jaws opened, then slammed shut on the creature’s head. Brianna saw hair flying from Sorva’s mouth, and then the dragon’s head snapped to one side and sent the Leffer flying through the air, headless, the tail and legs jerking spastically. The hideous creature dropped back through the clouds, disappearing from view. Sorva spit the head in the opposite direction and wheeled as two more Leffers appeared above the clouds.
Sorva roared and thick flames engulfed the two Leffers. Another popped up to Brianna’s right. She sent a flaming ball straight at the creature. She was expecting the Leffer to dodge away, but the flying horse was still blinking in the bright sunlight. It didn’t see the danger until it was too late. The beast’s wings withered against the shiny horse hide along its back and then the Leffer was falling, it’s hooves pawing uselessly in the air.
Brianna and Sorva were kept busy after that. The Leffers appeared fast. Brianna threw flames as fast as she could. Sorva made pass after pass. At least half of the Leffers were killed but eventually they began to pursue Sorva, so they dove back through the bank of clouds.
Below them Brianna was surprised at how dark the world was. She could see well enough in the dark, almost as well as she could in the day, but the change was still startling. Below them, there were craters where the Leffers had fallen. The mutated army was moving around the impact sites. The village of Walheta’s Gate was now a raging fire as well. Brianna realized that must have been the plan all along.
“Fly to the village,” Brianna shouted.
She wanted to see how successful the attack had been. They dove, hurtling toward the flaming village so fast Brianna had to blink away tears. The rain still fell, but it seemed to have no effect on the raging flames below. Even the road that led through the center of the village was on fire. Sorva swooped low and they saw hundreds of burning corpses. The mutated forms were easy to recognize. Brianna looked up and saw the mutated army now climbing the hills to either side of the village. The hills leading up the side of the mountains were steep and she could only hope the king’s army would have an advantage on the higher ground.
Sorva wheeled and Brianna no longer had any time to worry about the king’s army. Diving toward her were a concentrated group of Leffers. They came in a clump that was at least twenty beasts wide and just as deep. There was no way Sorva could blast through them, but Brianna had another idea. She sent a mental image of Sorva blowing flames that came out of the dragon’s mouth and then flowed back along the dragon’s body. It was something the dragons did often to warm their bodies in the cold mountain air. Sorva flew straight at the swarm of Leffers, letting fire billow back over her scales and over Brianna too. Brianna added her own fire to Sorva’s until the dragon was covered from head to tail with bright fire, only the wings protruded. Brianna let the cloud of fire grow intensely hot, the flames were blue and the area around the dragon was so hot it was white.
Sorva drew her wings into her body, just before they reached the swarm and the dragon’s momentum carried them into it. The Leffers tried to dodge out of the dragon’s path. Their intent was only too clear, to surround the dragon and strike at it as Sorva flew past. But the cloud of fire was too hot and the Leffers who tried to move in and attack Sorva from the sides ended up withering from the heat. Their wings melted and the long flowing hair burst into flames.
Once Sorva was out of the swarm, her black wings extended and flapped hard, propelling dragon and rider up and away from the Leffers. Brianna turned and looked over her shoulder. Only a few dozen of the Leffers were still in the air. She realized the tide had turned. There wasn’t enough of the winged horses to overcome the dragon, they only needed to mop up the rest of them and then they could focus on the mutated army below.
Chapter 28
Bloc could see the army marching toward them and he didn’t like what he saw. The hill country between the eastern and western passes of the Walheta range was thickly forested, which made seeing the enemy army difficult to say the least. Bloc had climbed to the top of the hill and was watching the enemy along with Hammert and the other leaders of the Jaq clan. Below them the stronghold was bustling. The dwarves of the Jaq clan had spent most of the previous day and all night finishing what Brianna started. Bloc was still amazed that she had carved such a perfect stronghold into the side of a hill, and even more surprised that she had done it a dozen times in a single day. Each of the strongest dwarf clans had taken one of the strongholds to defend. The weaker clans, such as the Molar clan, which had been nearly decimated by the Anacrids before Zollin had saved them, filled in wherever they were needed.
The biggest task for the dwarves had been making an escape tunnel. It was no secret that the dwarves of the Walheta Mountains had been conquered long ago, but their cavern system was extensive throughout the range, even if it was rumored to be filled with horrible monsters. Still, as King of the Dwarves, Bloc’s first order had been for each clan to establish an escape route into the old caverns. If the strongholds were overrun, the dwarves could escape. Brianna had shared that the enemy soldiers had been magically mutated into freakishly large beings. The dwarf tunnels were small and should keep the larger soldiers from following them.
The dwarves had been reinforced by soldiers from Yelsia, but Bloc had sent the soldiers to create a line of defense along the crests of the hills. The strongholds weren’t big enough for humans and dwarves to fight together, besides, he knew his people were better adapted to fighting from strong positions. The humans on the other hand, need space to move about. Bloc didn’t want dwarves injured by the inexperienced human soldiers.
Looking out over the hills, Bloc felt his stomach tightening. He knew deep in his bones this was a fight they couldn’t win. That wasn’t to say it wasn’t a battle they should fight, but he was glad his dwarves could slip away when the inevitable happened. He couldn’t see the enemy clearly, but he could see movement on every hill. The trees blocked most of the view, but through every clearing there was movement. The lean dwarf estimated the enemy to number in the tens of thousands, and that was just what he could see.
Above, the the little blue dragon roared. It had been circling over their stronghold most of the afternoon. Dragons made Bloc nervous, even though he knew these dragons to be part of Brianna’s pride. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about them. He imagined dwarves were probably a delicacy to dragons and he wasn’t keen on finding out if his hunch was true.
Tig flew like an arrow. The little blue dragon had waited as long as it dared. The dragon’s job was to draw away the Leffers, and that meant fighting them. Tig wasn’t afraid of the Leffers, he was much faster and more agile in the air than any of them, but the little blue dragon was alone now. Tig knew it couldn’t afford to make a mistake.
Bloc watched the dragon shoot forward then to his surprise he saw Leffers rising up from the trees in pursuit. Tig blew fire down among the pine trees. Only the steady rain that had soaked the forest through most of the day kept the trees from igniting and turning into a raging forest fire. Bloc wondered for a moment if that strategy wasn’t the best for defeating such an army. Still, he didn’t want to see the world burn. And destroying the forest wasn’t absolutely necessary, so he put the thought out of his mind and hurried down into the stronghold with Hammert and the other elders of the Jaq clan.
“What’s it look like?” asked one the dwarves when the climbed down the wooden ladders that leaned against the back wall of the stronghold.
“You can’t really see much,” said Bloc.
“Just a lot of movement really,” said Hammert. “There’ll be plenty of skulls to crack, that much is sure.”
“We should take our positions,” Bloc shouted. “Remove the ladder. I want everyone not in the tunnel on the wall.”
The dwarves hurried to their places. Running was difficult for the dwarves. They had short legs and heavy bodies. They weren’t all fat like Hammert, but even the younge
st had trouble running far. Still, most spent decades never moving faster than a slow amble, so Bloc was pleased at their attempts now. He had three rows of dwarves lining the precipice that looked out over the cliff Brianna had fashioned. As the honorary Battle Chief of the clan, Bloc would watch the fighting and blow his war horn to signal the front line to fall back and the second row of fighters to step forward. This way the dwarves could occasionally rest. The stronghold was high and the hill below it had been melted into a thick sludge that was still hot. It made the hill leading to the stronghold a vertical cliff.
Along the edge of the stronghold the dwarves had filled baskets with shards of rocks from their tunnelling effort. And along the walls of the stronghold the dwarves had positioned thick tree trunks with their points sharpened into spikes. Getting into the newly formed cave would be almost impossible. And deep in the back of the stronghold, a group of dwarves frantically chiselled down into the root of the mountains. Bloc could hear the hammers pinging against the heavy metal chisels. It was a good sound for any dwarf, but Bloc wished the work was complete, now that the enemy was in sight. The tunnel was deep and he guessed perhaps half of the Jaq clan could hide in the tunnel even if they didn’t reach the ancient caverns, but still they would have no food or water, and if the enemy didn’t move quickly beyond the stronghold, the dwarves deep in the tunnel would probably suffocate. Bloc knew their only hope was to hold the enemy back until the tunnel was complete.
“They’re coming into view,” announced one of the dwarves.
Bloc climbed up onto the wooden platform reserved for the Battle Chief. He could see over the heads of the dwarves along the fighting wall now. A large space had been cleared of trees from the bottom of the hill up to the stronghold. The soldiers of the enemy army began trudging out of the forest and onto the killing ground. Bloc’s breath caught in his throat. The dwarves were used to fighting larger opponents, they were stronger than most humans and deadly with their heavy war hammers. It wasn’t the size of the mutated army that made Bloc nervous, it was the horrific way their features were twisted. Their shoulders and necks were absurdly large, making most of their heads tilt to one side or the other. Their teeth were too large for their mouths and their eyes seemed vacant and cold.
“Put these poor devils out of their misery,” shouted Hammert.
A volley of arrows from the humans farther up the hill began to fall. Bloc could hear the tiny missiles whistling as they fell among the mutated army. The dwarves shouted in victory when several of the enemy fighters dropped dead from arrows that had penetrated their skulls. But Bloc noticed that not even one of the mutated soldiers raised a hand to defend themselves from the deadly volley. And even more frightening was the fact the fighters around those who died didn’t seem affected by the arrows at all, they merely stepped over their dead and kept marching. Even those with wounds didn’t slow.
Volley after volley fell and the killing ground was covered with the dead, but the dwarves had no time to celebrate. It was soon clear they would have a desperate fight on their hands. The first waves of the enemy were repelled easily enough. The dwarves pelted them with rocks from the baskets until their supply of rocks was exhausted and the space below the cliff was littered with bodies.
The enemy didn’t try to climb the vertical cliff, instead, those who reached the cliff first fell on their hands and knees and the ones behind them did the same, until they had constructed a living set of steps to access the dwarf stronghold. The enemy climbed up the backs of their comrades and tried to climb into the stronghold. The fighting along the lip of the cavern was fierce. The war hammers fell hard, shattering bones, but unless the dwarves landed a crippling blow, the enemy kept coming forward, their big axe like swords fell hard among the dwarves. Sparks flew as the heavy blades smashed against the thick war hammers. The dwarves pushed and shoved the mutated soldiers back. The weight of the dead on the living stair case became too much at some points and the heap collapsed. The dwarves would cheer and then the enemy would come again.
The fight went on and on. Soon, the setting sun cast the stronghold in gloom. The dwarves saw well enough at night, but Bloc needed to be sure that nothing escaped his careful watch.
“Torches!” he bellowed.
Torches were lit and placed along the edge of the stronghold. The dwarves reformed in order to fight from between the torches. Bloc had several wounded dwarves, some had sustained grievous, even mortal wounds and could no longer fight. In the escape tunnel, the hammers still rang out against the metal chisels, but no breakthrough had been reported.
Above the stronghold Bloc could hear the human soldiers fighting. The enemy didn’t often vary their course. Those in front of the dwarfish stronghold fought the dwarves. Those to either side climbed the hill, although at a much slower pace, and fought the humans above. None of the enemy soldiers had tried to scale in from the sides of the hill, although a few of their dead had fallen in from the back where they had been slain by the human warriors.
The night wore on, with Bloc blowing the war horn to rotate his troops more frequently. Around midnight a messenger ran up to the War Chief’s platform.
“We’re through!” the man said. He was covered with dirt and bleeding from a dozen minor cuts that Bloc recognized as being from rock chips that had flown back and hit the dwarf in the face while he was chiseling.
“How long until the opening is big enough?”
“Only a few minutes,” the dwarf reported.
“Hammert!” bellowed Bloc.
The fat clan headsman waddled quickly to the War Chief’s platform.
“The tunnel is nearly finished. Let’s get the wounded down there now. I’ll sound the retreat soon.”
“No need to retreat,” Hammert said, although he was gasping for breath. “We’ll send these demons back to hell.”
“No,” Bloc said. “We’ve done our part. We have to save as many of our kinsmen as we can.”
Hammert nodded, and hurried off. Bloc climbed down from his platform and took up his own war hammer. Three quick blasts from his horn called the retreat. As was the dwarves’ custom, the strongest of the dwarves stepped up to the wall to cover the retreat of the others. The center was left unoccupied for the War Chief to defend. Bloc hurried into position just in time to see the grotesque face of an enemy soldier appear in the wavering light from the torches to either side.
Bloc bellowed a defiant war cry and stepped forward. The dwarves had to wait for the enemy to be close enough for their short arms and small weapons to come to bare. They often left several feet between themselves and the edge of the wall so they could spring forward, strike, and then dart away.
Bloc waited, seeing his adversary rise up to over eight feet in hight. The soldier stepped forward, raising his sword in a slow, but precise movement. Bloc held his ground, waiting for the sword to fall. He saw the mutated soldier’s elbow flex and knew instinctively that the blow was coming. He dashed forward and slammed his hammer into the soldier’s knee. The mutated creature toppled to the side, but a second, well timed hammer blow knocked the wretch backwards. The creature tumbled into the next mutated fighter. They tangled and fell on the heap of dead bodies that they were now using to scale the cliff. The next mindless soldier in line stepped on its comrades and continued forward.
The fighting went on for half an hour before Hammert returned. He fell in behind Bloc and waited for a lull in the fighting. Bloc had just smashed the hand of one creature who had stumbled on the mass of bodies under its feet. The creature groaned but kept climbing. Bloc had to jump to the side to avoid the massive sword, but as the mutated fighter pulled itself forward, Bloc dropped his hammer in a mighty blow on the back of the creature’s skull. The entire head cracked open, splattering blood and brains in all directions like a dropped mellon.
Bloc fell back a few steps, the sweat from his head made his long hair stick to his skin. He was breathing hard, but his face was animated, though it was spattered with blood.
/> “We’re all through,” Hammert shouted. “Shall I sound the fighting retreat?”
“Aye,” Bloc bellowed.
Another of the enemy was walking up the back of the dead man whose skull Bloc had just shattered. Bloc darted forward and feinted to his right. The mutated fighter turned to face Bloc, but the shift in weight was all it took for the dead body to roll slightly. The mutated fighter lifted his sword, but that only made him even more off balance. He toppled to the side, without even making it up the stronghold wall.
Hammert blew three short blasts and the fighters all fell back. They made a semi circle around the tunnel as the enemy soldiers finally breached the stronghold. The mutated fighters lumbered into the dark recesses of the cave, their vacant expressions revealed their lack of fear.
“Hammert, lead them down,” Bloc called out.
“Aye, my lord!”
Hammert hurried into the hole, followed by the two fighters on either end of the crescent line. Once they were inside the tunnel, they shouted, Oi! and the next two fighters descended. By the time the slow moving soldiers of the witch’s army arrived only Bloc and two other fighters remained. Bloc dashed forward, smashing one soldier’s knee and then spinning around to pulverize another’s foot. The two soldiers fell toward one another. When Block heard the cry of Oi! behind him he turned to dash into the tunnel, but his way was blocked by the bodies of the two fighters he’d just wounded. He could have climbed over them if they were dead, but instead they were reaching for him, one was even raising the cumbersome sword it carried.
Five Kingdoms: Book 07 - Wizard Falling Page 21