Venom and Song

by Wayne Thomas Batson

  As the sun warmed the western sky, the war horn blast filled Nightwish and summoned the Elves to begin the long march out of the caverns. Like a sleeping giant now awakened, the entire might of the Elven army stepped in line. Where once they had burrowed like mice, now they stood like conquerors. In the lead were six of the Elf Lords of Berinfell accompanied by none other than Guardmaster Grimwarden, Elle Goldarrow, and Elder Alwynn. Kiri Lee would join them later. Each of them wore an array of battle dress: black tunics tucked into loose-fitting breeches, their torsos clad in hinged armor fashioned of hardened leather, heads adorned with the gold-winged helmets of Berinfell. On their feet they wore war boots, laced up past their calves. Majestic purple cloaks slung over the shoulders hid a variety of perilous weapons: rycheswords, siege axes, hammers, polearms, maces, daggers, and bows. Most carried a shield bound to the forearm or slung over the back. And boldly displayed on their leather breastplates, each of the lords bore their tribe’s medallion. It would herald to the enemy that the Lords of Berinfell lived!

  Behind them came the entire host of Sentinels and Dreadnaughts, followed by the flet soldiers: longbow archers, spearmen, and men at arms. More than eight centuries of living underground had stripped them of their cavalry, but the Elves had another card to play. Sometimes airborne and sometimes resting in specially designed carts, the scarlet raptors came forward as well.

  Up into the morning light the line went, shedding the subterranean haunt like an old skin. The line continued well into the morning. Hundreds, and then thousands, and then tens of thousands spilled into the forest. A haze filled the air, stretching due east as the line marched toward one locale: Vesper Crag.

  Unlike the enemy’s attack eight hundred years before, the Elves had no need of surprise. In fact, their victory depended in part on the enemy extending himself beyond his walls.

  The march eastward took three days. If the Spider King knew of their coming, he did not react. They met no challenge, not even a single Gwar.

  “The Lightning Fields,” Grimwarden noted with a pointed finger. The Elf Lords beside him looked out into the valley, remembering the scene from when they had first arrived in Allyra. Their long trek north to the Dark Veil had taken them right through here, right beneath the watchful gaze of Vesper Crag. The sky was eternally dark, casting the sun behind a dismal, overcast blanket. And from the heavy clouds came any number of lightning bolts, reaching from above and blasting into the barren landscape beneath. Rocks shattered, craters were gouged out, while lava flows meandered like silent killers, streaming down from the mountains above and then disappearing into unseen fissures.

  “Think I’ll opt for a summer home here,” said Jimmy, smirking. But few smiles met his attempt at humor.

  Every battle plan had a transition from paper to reality. And the Elf Lords had just experienced that transition.

  “This is really happening, isn’t it?” asked Autumn.

  “It is,” said Goldarrow. She turned to her. “Are you all right?”

  She stood a little taller. “Indeed.”

  “Don’t worry, Autumn. I’ve got you covered. Bring it on,” said Johnny, hand on the pommel of his sword.

  And bring it they did. Grimwarden looked to Tommy, and the leader of the Elf Lords lifted his fist, summoning a great beast to life. From where they stood, a virtual sea of Elves surged forward and wrapped around them, spreading out to the northern and southern flanks. Tommy spoke no word but thrust his fist forward, and Travin’s forces charged across the Lightning Fields.

  Speed was key to this phase, getting as many Elves across these dangerous plains as rapidly as possible. Blasts of lightning took six from the front lines alone and continued to strike with devastating power. Some Elves were merely stunned by nearby strikes. But they recovered quickly, filling in the gaps and surging forward, their eyes on one prize: the defeat of the Spider King.

  The main fortress of Vesper Crag thrust upward out of a dark and gangly mountain, its side split open like an overripe fruit. Turrets and bastions, keeps and gatehouses grew out of this gash at odd angles. More dark architecture punctured the surface of the mountain’s western face and southern flank as well. Surrounding it all and even the entire base of the mountain was an immense—and as Grimwarden described it—unconquerable wall.

  Just beyond the northern section of wall, at the granite feet of the low jagged mountains, a wide red gash yawned open. Fresh molten lava vomited out from the crevasse, bathing rock and plain in blistering red. Lightning flashed there, too, blasting down from clouds burgeoning with ash. As the flet soldiers picked their way through the Lightning Fields and edged closer to the base of the mountain, Elven craftsmen busied themselves behind the line with the construction of the cannons and catapults. The cannons had been converted from shooting layadine —the substance which Manaelkin had all but hastily used up during the invasion of Nightwish—to shooting small exploding balls of iron. Still effective, but not nearly as deadly a weapon as layadine. The parts for the catapults had been freshly hewn from trees in the Thousand-League Forest based on plans the architects had drawn up long before. Tommy and the others watched with fascination as the engineers pieced them together with practiced hands and perfect accuracy. Boulders the size of a crouching man were piled up beside each of thirty catapults, while the casks of smaller black-powder-filled balls were stacked in crates beside the twenty cannons.

  “I’m getting nervous about the map,” Tommy said to Grimwarden as his eyes searched the progress before them, hoping he might see Regis or Nelly pop-up somewhere in the throng.

  “It will come,” Grimwarden said confidently.

  Tommy eyed him. “Yeah, but what if it comes too late to be of any use?” He pointed to the war host they had assembled. “The attack’s begun.”

  Grimwarden turned to Tommy. “Do you trust me?”

  Tommy fumbled. Of course he did. But this wasn’t some test in Whitehall. Those were lives down there. Real lives that Tommy held in his hands. And it seemed to him that, despite their sizable appearance, they were marching to their deaths. Seeing Vesper Crag, he very much doubted any of their plans would succeed. Even with the map.

  “Do you trust me?”

  “I do,” Tommy said.

  “Then let us proceed. And let us together trust that the map will come in time.”

  “Lord Felheart!” came a voice. A flet soldier charged up the hill. “M’lord,” he said and bowed.

  “Yes, flet soldier?” answered Tommy.

  “I bear word from Guardmaster Travin. The enemy has loosed his Warspiders.”

  “You see?” said Grimwarden.

  Tommy looked to Kat and grinned. The enemy would never see this one coming. Turning back to the flet soldier he said, “Very good.” He said a silent prayer for Kiri Lee. Kat looked away. “Return to Travin and tell him the aerial assault will begin immediately. In fact, the raptors will likely fly over your head before you get to him!”

  “Endurance and Victory.” The flet soldier crossed his forearms, bowed, and was gone.

  Tommy turned to the west. Fifty yards back, Ethon Beleron and Kiri Lee stared back. Tommy held up both tightly closed fists and then sprang them open, his fingers wide. The scarlet raptors climbed into the air together, hovering for a moment like a red flag before shrieking into the sky. Each one held large rocks or thick pieces of lumber in its talons. And each one bore an Elven archer. Tommy grinned, seeing the holsters stuffed with arrows.

  “I know Goldarrow has already told you so,” said Grimwarden. “But your idea to caulk each arrowhead with layadine was brilliant. It is the one way we can spread our sparse reserves.”

  Tommy remembered the battle at Dalhousie in Scotland. It was then that the idea had first struck him. He even had some layadine arrows in his own quiver.

  Now overhead, the raptors swept east like a storm. Tommy spotted Kiri Lee and Ethon on the lead raptors. They waved as the birds of prey climbed. Tommy could hardly believe it: the Elven air force was l
ed by the musician girl from Paris.

  The raptors screeched again as they flew over the Lightning Fields and its violent and random bolts of electricity.

  The birds dipped and swerved, trying to anticipate the next bolt by watching the red-glowing buildup of electricity in the clouds. But more than one raptor succumbed to a stray white bolt that leaped sideways, connecting with the bird and then continuing on its path to the ground. The result was horrifying.

  As fast as they were, it seemed as if it took the raptors an eternity to make it over Vesper Crag.

  33

  Death from Above

  KIRI LEE’S raptor circled over Vesper Crag, empowering her with a bird’s-eye view of the enemy’s stronghold. The giant bird was named Serion, and he had been as easy to ride as a well-trained horse. Still, she was nervous. But with each passing minute, she had eased her death grip on the raptor’s feathers and soon felt sure enough of her abilities to free her bow from his back.

  Unlike those on the ground, Kiri Lee was witnessing the full power of the Spider King’s minions organizing far below. Like busy ants, Gwar swarmed the fortress, setting up defenses, and distributing weaponry. It would be but moments before the wrath of the enemy rained down upon those gathered in the Lightning Fields. Ah, if only Kat could pick up my thoughts out here! Kiri Lee lamented. But the distance for now is too great.

  Just then, Kiri Lee noticed a large defense just out of sight of the ground flet that was hidden behind the castle’s walls. It would make a perfect first target.

  She urged her raptor into a steep dive. Perhaps a little too steep, Kiri Lee thought. She nearly lost her bow, but managed to keep both herself and her ride on target. The great bird dove toward the turret, but it was coming up very fast. The raptor shrieked, and the surprised Gwar looked up. They were about to be dashed on the fortress ramparts. A quick stab with her heel, and the raptor released his boulder. Kiri Lee dug her legs into the bird’s neck. Serion spread his wings and stopped his descent, swooping in such a deep curve that Kiri Lee was sure her stomach had been relocated to her knees. She felt the blood rush from her head and did her best not to black out. She glanced behind her left heel, fifty feet below, as the boulder crashed into the catapult. Shrapnel from the structure and Gwar bodies exploded over the fortress, the turret rupturing with a sound that could be heard for miles.

  Kiri Lee gave out a cheer before almost losing her balance, startling herself back into a death grip on her raptor. This would take some getting used to, and quick.

  Tommy and the others watched as the raptors rained down terror from above. He thought they resembled little sparrows defending their nests against an invading crow, diving and recovering, each swoop down bringing added pain. But these were not mere songbirds pecking at the head of a nuisance. They carried hundreds of pounds of rock that when dropped buried deep into the siege engines of the enemy.

  The entire Elven war host watched as each boulder careened into the sprawling fortress, and the Spider King’s vast network of tower defenses was blown to pieces.

  But it wasn’t long before the retaliation began.

  Massive crossbows rigged with bolts the size of small trees took aim at the raptors that buzzed overhead. The slap of bowstrings filled the space over the fortress, followed by the shrieks of Elves and raptors as they plunged to their deaths on the side of the Crag. The precise aim with which the enemy took on the flying targets was staggering, as one by one the raptors started to vanish from the sky.

  Tommy noticed that the number of giant birds had thinned somewhat, but he lost focus when the first boulder came hurtling at the flet soldiers gathered at Vesper Crag’s base. At first Tommy thought some wounded raptor had inadvertently released his projectile on the Elves. But the stone was arching through the air, fired from one of the remaining catapults behind the enemy line. It crashed into the right flank, crushing five flet soldiers beneath it. Travin could do nothing but keep his soldiers at their posts, firing cannons and catapults at the walls and those who stood atop them.

  More and more boulders were flung over the wall by the Spider King’s forces, suspended in midair for the briefest of moments before slamming down into the flet soldiers. Some of the stones landed in the lava flows, producing explosive spatters of molten rock that showered the army in a lethal wash of red and orange. Flet soldiers screamed out in terror as the hot lava ate through their armor. They tried to bat it away, brushing it from their chain mail, but it was no use. The lava clung to them like cement, burning deep into their flesh.

  “We’ve got to make them stop!” Kat screamed, looking away.

  “We will, Kat,” Tommy said, looking to the front lines. “Our soldiers are gaining some ground on the walls! Look!”

  The moment any space cleared on the high parapets, Travin signaled and tall ladders were thrown up. The Elves, who could climb a tree in seconds, raced up the ladders in no time. But the defenses were swift to respond. Warspiders.

  The Warspiders crept out of unseen ports in the sides of the mountain. They poured out and clambered up the walls and over, devastating the Elves on the ladders. Thick strands of web sailed out over the Elves at the foot of the walls as well, snaring them long enough for other spiders to slay them.

  Far above the battle, Kiri Lee saw a small flash of yellow light from the command hill where the other lords and Grimwarden were directing the battle plans. She turned and motioned to Ethon on the nearest raptor. The two leaders split and flew at the walls, circling in from opposite directions. Not nearly as skilled with a bow as Tommy, Kiri Lee hoped she wouldn’t have to be. She nocked a layadine arrow and used her legs to guide the raptor in low. She spotted a massive Warspider hanging its bulbous abdomen over the wall and spraying gobs of thick webbing on the Elves below. Kiri Lee took aim and loosed her arrow. The shaft went off-center but still plunged deep into the spider’s thick hide. In moments, the Warspider screeched and shuddered.

  The other Elven archers released their first volleys as well, crippling the first wave of spiders. The problem became immediately apparent: it was only the Spider King’s first wave of Warspiders. Waves two and three flooded out of the mountain and clambered over the living and the dead. Kiri Lee, Ethon, and the other archers made run after run until their layadine arrows were spent. But still the Warspiders came on. It seemed Travin’s assault team might never get lasting purchase atop the walls.

  Kiri Lee looked to Ethon and gave a different signal. Raptor to raptor the signal made its rounds. Each of the airborne flet soldiers produced a small flint stone kit, able to produce a spark with one hand. A few flicks of the tool set one end of a long powder-laden wick aflame, the small orange tongue of fire whipping violently in the wind. Each flet soldier released the wick from a clasp in their belts, the cord now dangling free far below them. The fuse now burned upward toward the oblong tube of metal harnessed on the side of the raptor: a bomb.

  As fuses burned low, the birds raced on, closing the gap between them and the wall with incredible speed. Kiri Lee worried the bombs might bounce off the wall and roll back into the advancing army or explode prematurely while still held by the birds. Either way, the results would be catastrophic; she knew here, as in her music, timing was everything.

  The wall was coming up quickly now. Too quickly. She glanced down to her right; on hers the wick was burning as planned, but perhaps too slow. She had given the order too late. The bird needed to slow down. But when she looked to the wick on her left, her stomach knotted. She tried to speak, but her throat closed up. Finally, “LET GO!”

  Three of the birds skimmed across the top of the army, not thirty feet above. The men cheered as the two bombs were lit, all eyes on Kiri Lee as she waited to give the order. The gap between them closed, and soon the birds angled up against the base of the mountain.

  But it was Tommy who first noticed something didn’t seem right. Kiri Lee was waving frantically to the bird on her left.

  “Oh no,” he heard Jimmy say.

&n
bsp; Tommy looked to him, then back to the three birds in flight.

  Something was definitely—

  A bright flash followed by a fiery explosion lit up the dim sky like the Fourth of July. Tommy winced, half at the eye-shattering light, half in stupefied horror. The raptor to the left was gone. Obliterated. The shockwave of the explosion shot the two remaining raptors sideways, dropping them out of the air. And with them sank the second bomb, now free from the raptor’s talons.

  Kiri Lee’s bird flapped incessantly, trying in vain to recover the freedom of flight. Broken wings and blind eyes made it impossible. Kiri Lee was still holding on, as far as Tommy could tell, but when the bird disappeared behind the enemy wall, he feared the worst. The second raptor managed a few more flaps before succumbing to a bolt through the chest, its rider knocked off and crashing into the fortress below.

  It was the next bomb that captured everyone’s attention next. It landed not at the base of the wall as intended, but right in the ramparts, cradled between the crenulated wall and the wooden railing. The Elf Lords watched as dozens of Gwar attempted to dislodge the object or tried to snuff the wick out. But it was too late.

  The explosion was far greater than the first. A muffled wumph! came just before a deafening boom! that blew the top half of the wall sky high. Rock, wood, and fire exploded from the fortress, raining down on those below. Gwar were flung through the air as if they were rag dolls, flipping lifelessly to a crude end, dashed on the mountainside.

  “We have to get in there!” Tommy took a few steps forward. Grimwarden caught his arm.