Frostborn: The Dwarven Prince (Frostborn #12)

by Jonathan Moeller

  “Let us pray we are just as successful,” said Ridmark. Azakhun took him literally, as the dwarven Taalmak lowered his head in prayer for a moment. Well, Ridmark would take all the help he could get. “Third?”

  “I am ready,” said Third.

  Ridmark nodded, and he led the way further down the tunnel, bow in hand. The tunnel was broad, but fortunately, there were many ghost mushrooms to provide light and numerous outcroppings of stalagmites and boulders to provide cover. Small ponds lay here and there, holding the peculiar eyeless fish common in the waters of the Deeps.

  That made it easy for Ridmark and Third to reach the kobold fortifications unseen.

  After about two miles, the tunnel narrowed. A rough wall of stone with a gate of mushroom planks had been built across the tunnel, and Ridmark spotted kobolds atop the crude ramparts. The kobolds were about the size of human children, with lean, gray-scaled bodies, long tails curling back and forth behind them. They had elongated, lizard-like heads with yellow eyes, their fingers and toes topped with claws. The creatures had red crests on their necks and the top of their heads, and they looked almost like elaborated frilled collars. Every one of the kobolds Ridmark saw had blue tattoos in the shape of grinning skulls upon their faces.

  They had found the Blue Skull kobolds.

  Beyond the fortifications, Ridmark saw the rockfall trap. The tunnel widened into a large cavern, undoubtedly the Silent Gallery, and behind their crude wall, the kobolds had piled a large heap of boulders. A net of ropes held the boulders in place, cunningly tied so that cutting a single knot would cause the entire pile to come crashing down. The trap was obvious, and Ridmark wondered if it had been intended to convince the dwarves to bypass the Silent Gallery, leading them into a trap elsewhere.

  No matter. If Ridmark and Third forced the trap here, the Sculptor and his kobold allies would have to change their plans.

  Third leaned close to him, her breath warm against his right ear.

  “Sentries,” she whispered. “One on the left, one on the right.” Her black-gloved hand pointed, and Ridmark spotted a kobold armed with a bow on the left, lurking behind a large stalagmite, while to the right he saw another kobold behind a pair of boulders.

  “I’ll get the one on the left,” whispered Ridmark into her ear. “Can you get the one on the right?”

  Third nodded. It was mostly a rhetorical question. Mara had been a deadly assassin, and her older half-sister was no less skilled.

  “I shall wait until you strike,” said Third.

  Ridmark nodded and crept to the side, drawing his bow and setting an arrow to the string. He circled to the left, his boots making no sound against the rocky ground. The kobold remained motionless behind its stalagmite, watching for foes. Ridmark dared not make any sounds. Kobolds had keener senses than humans, and the slightest thing might give away his presence.

  Yet Ridmark had done this before, and the kobold did not notice him.

  He stopped a dozen yards away, taking a deep breath to steady his aim. Ridmark raised his bow, drew back the string, and released.

  The arrow hissed through the gloom and slammed into the kobold’s chest, rocking the creature back. The kobold let out a croaking groan, its tail lashing like a whip, and Ridmark raced forward, drawing his axe as he did so.

  One quick chop through the kobold’s skinny neck kept the creature from calling out in alarm. Ridmark turned just in time to see a flicker of blue light to his right. More blue fire flared next to him, and Third stepped out of the flames, the dark blood of kobolds upon her short swords.

  “Done,” she whispered.

  Ridmark nodded, watching the wall for any sign of alarm, but the kobolds had not noticed anything amiss, at least not yet.

  That was going to change.

  He nodded, retrieving his weapons, and they crept across the rest of the cavern and reached the base of the rough wall. Eight kobolds stood watch atop the wall, staring into the gloom of the cavern, but so far they hadn’t noticed that enemies were upon them. Ridmark stared at the wall for a moment. The gate had been built of planks hewn from the large ironstalk mushrooms that grew throughout the Deeps, and it looked sturdy enough. The wall looked rather less sturdy, constructed of loose stone, and it had a rough and uneven surface.

  A surface that looked easy enough to climb.

  Ridmark pointed at the corner of the wall, where it met the living rock of the cavern, and Third nodded. He went first, creeping to the intersection and scaling the wall, his fingers and boots finding purchase. Third followed him. She could have traveled to the top of the wall in an instant, but this close to the kobolds, the blue fire of her power would almost certainly draw their eye.

  He peered over the top of the crude rampart. The kobold guards were not far away, but they were watching the cavern, perhaps listening for cries of alarm from the two sentries that Ridmark and Third had killed. They were not looking towards the cavern wall, perhaps because no threat could come from that direction.

  Ridmark rolled over the rampart in silence, settling into a crouch, and Third came after him, springing down with the grace of a hunting cat.

  Still, the kobolds did not notice anything amiss, and Ridmark and Third hurried forward.

  The Silent Gallery stretched before them, and below the wall, Ridmark saw the kobold camp. Hundreds of the gray-scaled creatures waited there, some sleeping in rough tents built of murrag hides, others sprawled on the ground, and others eating or arguing or gambling with dice carved from bone.

  If the kobolds were resting, it was because they had been busy. An enormous quantity of rocks had been piled against the wall, heaped in such a way that they were on the verge of collapse. Ridmark saw the ropes holding back the pile straining and quivering under their load, and wondered if the kobolds had miscalculated the weight. When those cords broke, the stones would collapse into half of the Silent Gallery.

  Unfortunately, the kobolds knew their danger. A crude walkway of planks went along the front of the rock pile, and before the knot holding the maze of ropes in place stood eight kobold guards. They were larger and stronger-looking than the rest of the kobolds, and wore shirts of ragged mail and carried spears, their heads armored with helmets shaped for their long skulls.

  Ridmark and Third shared a look, and Third leaned close.

  “Distraction?” she whispered.

  Ridmark nodded and raised his bow again, while Third stepped back, drawing her short swords.

  One of the kobolds on the ramparts looked up, and Ridmark moved.

  He raised his bow and released, sending an arrow flying towards the kobold guards. There hadn’t been time to take better aim, but the arrow nonetheless caught the nearest kobold in the thigh. The kobold let out a furious shriek of pain, and as one every single kobold on the walkway and the rampart looked at Ridmark and Third.

  For a moment, they paused in shock, and Ridmark took the opportunity to shoot another kobold. This time he shot the creature through the neck, and the kobold fell from the walkway to land in the camp below the rockfall trap. The kobolds in the camp were already stirring, and the sight of one of their fellows falling to his death roused them to alarm. Cries rose as the kobolds snarled, scrambling for weapons.

  The kobolds upon the rampart rushed him, and Ridmark fought for his life.

  He dropped his bow and raised the staff of Ardrhythain, the dark weapon flying in his hands. The first kobold that came at him had a short sword, and Ridmark parried it aside and drove the end of the staff into the kobold’s head with bone-crushing force. The creature fell, limbs flopping and tail twitching and Third stepped into the gap, spinning past a spear thrust, her short swords opening the throats of two kobolds at once. The creatures fell, and she leaped back, Ridmark deflecting the stab of a spear aimed at her belly. Ridmark whipped his staff in a wide circle, forcing the kobolds back. His longer reach and the length of the staff kept the enemy from closing, and he used the moment of distraction to kill another kobold, crushing its thro
at with a quick jab.

  By then the kobolds guarding the walkway had stormed onto the rampart.

  “Third!” shouted Ridmark. “Now!”

  Third sprinted forward, killing one of the armored kobolds with a twin slash from her swords, and vanished into blue fire. The kobolds closed around Ridmark, and he fought, blocking and dodging, swinging and thrusting, the staff of Ardrhythain a blur in his hands. The kobolds were no match for him, but numbers were on their side, and sooner or later they would wear him down. Or the kobolds in the camp would recover from their surprise and shoot him down from the wall.

  Blue fire swirled on the walkway, and Third appeared in front of the knot. The dark elven short swords flashed in her hands. The knot was huge, as big as Ridmark’s torso, but the dark elven steel was sharp, and Third had the unnatural strength of her heritage.

  One of the kobolds screeched a warning.

  The knot snapped, the ropes flying out with enough force to cut flesh, and Third leaped backward off the walkway to avoid them, vanishing in a flash of blue fire.

  An ominous rumble went through the cavern, and the kobolds attacking Ridmark stopped, casting anxious glances at the piled rocks. Ridmark took the opportunity to spin and run, grabbing his weapons and vaulting over the rampart, scrambling down the wall as fast as he could without breaking any bones in the process.

  He was about a yard from the ground when the rockfall collapsed into an avalanche.

  A deafening roar filled the cavern, followed by the screams rising from hundreds of kobold throats at once. An enormous billowing plume of dust erupted over the rampart, and a disturbing shiver went through the wall. Ridmark jumped the remaining distance to the ground as Third reappeared a few feet away. At once she sprinted for the far end of the cavern, and Ridmark followed her example.

  Behind them the wall collapsed from the sheer weight of the rockfall, the debris spilling into the cavern. The floor trembled beneath Ridmark’s boots, and he stumbled, caught himself, and kept going.

  He and Third were at the far end of the tunnel when they looked back at last. The dust had started to settle by then, and Ridmark saw a scene of total devastation. The rockfall had destroyed both the wall and the kobold camp. Of the kobold camp, Ridmark saw no trace. He saw a few kobolds limping atop the spilled rocks, injured, but they showed no inclination to pursue.

  Ridmark paused to catch his breath, and Third came to a stop, breathing hard.

  “That went well,” said Ridmark.

  “Yes,” said Third. “Less so for the kobolds.”

  ###

  A short time later they rejoined Narzaxar’s force, and the dwarves advanced into the Silent Gallery.

  The kobolds had withdrawn completely, at least those who had survived. The smell of blood was thick in the air, and Ridmark saw pools of it leaking from beneath the collapsed rocks. Likely this cavern would soon be overrun by scavengers seeking the flesh of the slain kobolds for a quick meal.

  Hopefully, by then they would have taken Thainkul Morzan and returned, and the dwarves would be marching to aid the Anathgrimm and the manetaurs against the Frostborn.

  They marched onwards, pressing further into the darkness of the Deeps.

  Chapter 13: Thainkul Morzan

  They reached Thainkul Morzan one day after leaving the Silent Gallery, and Gavin saw why the koballats had fortified it.

  The place reminded him a great deal of Thainkul Dural, the dwarven ruin where Coriolus had trapped them so he could steal Morigna’s body to house his corrupted spirit. Thainkul Dural had been a strong fortress, and Gavin and the others had only gained entry by employing a secret entrance that Caius had found.

  Thainkul Morzan looked a great deal like Thainkul Dural.

  Only much stronger.

  The tunnel ended in another large cavern. Like the Silent Gallery, this cavern was shaped like an oval, and a motionless lake took up the far third of the cavern. The outer wall of Thainkul Morzan rose from the edge of the water, the massive stonework reflected in the mirror-like lake. A single narrow causeway of granite crossed the lake and led to closed gates of dwarven steel. Anyone crossing the causeway would have no cover from arrow fire, and the outer wall of Thainkul Morzan stopped two yards from the cavern ceiling. That mean the koballat crossbowmen and siege engines Gavin saw atop the wall would have a clear field of fire. The dwarves would lose hundreds if they attempted to assail the gate.

  If they tried to attack Thainkul Morzan, it would be an absolute slaughter.

  “They are well-fortified,” said Azakhun.

  Gavin stood with Ridmark and Narzaxar and his chief lieutenants at the end of the tunnel, looking towards the cavern, the lake, and the outer wall of Thainkul Morzan. Third did not link the koballats had any watchers in the outer portion of the cavern. Why bother? Anyone approaching the causeway would be clearly visible, and they could unleash crossbow quarrels and ballista bolts at their leisure. It would take a far larger force than what Narzaxar possessed to storm Thainkul Morzan, perhaps even an entire army.

  Fortunately, the dwarves knew about the secret entrance to their former stronghold.

  Unfortunately, the koballats knew about it as well.

  “There are two secret entrances?” said Ridmark.

  “Aye,” said Caius. “The first is like the one we used to enter Thainkul Dural.” He pointed at the elaborate stonework of the outer wall. “It will be hidden within that niche. Manipulating the proper glyphs will open the secret door.”

  “The water goes right up to the wall,” said Ridmark. “There is no way we could open the door without making the water ripple. The koballats would know what is happening at once.”

  “Agreed,” said Caius. “Fortunately, there is a second secret door.”

  “He’s right,” said Narzaxar. “There is a side tunnel that branches from the outer cavern.” He pointed, and on the left-hand wall of the cavern, just before the lake, Gavin saw the shape of a narrow archway. “It descends below the level of the lake. Before it does, there is a secret door. Of old our builders constructed the door so the thainkul would not run short of water during a siege, or so we could issue forth in a sortie and strike the foe from behind their lines.”

  “Clever,” said Ridmark.

  “The koballats will know about it,” said Azakhun. “The Sculptor has seized Thainkul Morzan several times. By now he will have uncovered all of its secrets.”

  “But if you and Lady Third can overcome the guards the way you did at the Silent Gallery,” said Narzaxar, “then you can enter the thainkul and open the gates for us. We’ll storm inside and drive out the koballats, and fortify it so the Sculptor cannot claim it again.”

  “Very well,” said Ridmark. “Do you have a scout who knows the way?”

  Narzaxar sent one of his bodyguards back to the main column of the force, and a moment later he returned with Malzuraxis. The scout looked at the wall of Thainkul Morzan, spat upon the ground, and then looked at the prince.

  “Suppose you want me to show them the way, lord Taalkhan?” said Malzuraxis.

  “Yes,” said Narzaxar. “I will not command you, for this will be very dangerous. Yet…”

  “No need,” said Malzuraxis. “I’ll do it. In olden times my ancestors lived in Thainkul Morzan. I don’t like to see koballats infesting the place.” His hard eyes turned to Ridmark. “If you think that you and Lady Third can get us into Thainkul Morzan, I’ll gladly help you.”

  “We’re going to do it,” said Ridmark, “or we’re going to die trying.”

  Gavin supposed that it was a joke, but Malzuraxis nodded as if Ridmark had made a simple statement of fact. Which, Gavin realized, it was.

  “Take these,” said Narzaxar, gesturing, and one of the warriors stepped forward. He handed a metal rod about sixteen inches long to Ridmark, and then one to Third and another to Malzuraxis.

  “What are these?” said Third, hefting the rod.

  “The stonescribes craft them for dealing with trolls and koba
llats,” said Narzaxar. “Focus upon the end of the rod, and it will burst into flame.”

  Ridmark frowned at the rod, and the end erupted into white flame, so hot Gavin felt the heat of it on his face. Ridmark shook the rod, and the flame went out.

  “Useful,” said Ridmark.

  “Especially if you want to start a campfire,” said Camorak.

  “Or cauterize the wounds of a troll to keep it from regenerating,” said Ridmark. “All your warriors are equipped with these things?”

  “Of course,” said Narzaxar.

  “Then we are ready,” said Ridmark.

  “Very well,” said Narzaxar. “May the gods of stone and silence go with you.” He glanced at Azakhun, his mouth twisting a little. “Or the god of the humans, whichever you prefer.”

  “I should go with you,” said Gavin.

  Ridmark shook his head. “No, I think it would be better for you to remain with the dwarves. If we can get the main gates open, you will need to spearhead the first assault. And if there are wounded, you and Camorak are the only ones with healing magic.”

  Gavin wanted to argue, but he knew that Ridmark was right.

  “God go with you, then,” said Gavin.

  His hand tightened on Truthseeker’s hilt. When the hour came, he would be ready to fight.

  ###

  Ridmark, Third, and Malzuraxis made their way across the cavern, the air damp and cold against Ridmark’s face.

  Malzuraxis set a brisk pace but nonetheless moved with the silence of a veteran scout. Ridmark and Third followed him as he wove from stalagmite to stalagmite and boulder to boulder. He kept glancing towards the grim outer wall of Thainkul Morzan, expecting the cry of alarm to rise at any moment. For that matter, the koballats might have crept from the wall and were circling behind Ridmark to prepare an ambush.

  On the other hand, perhaps he was imagining things, and the koballats still hadn’t noticed them.