The Wizard's Tower 02

by Peter Last

  One of the catapults snapped forward and fired its boulder at the city. Senndra could tell that something was wrong when the arm of the machine came forward too far and flung its projectile into the dirt a few yards in front of it. The machine seemed to burst into splinters and large pieces of wood flew in all directions, killing several of the people around it. The other catapults fired without problems and an imposing barrage of boulders hit the wall, shaking it to its foundations. Senndra fell to her knees and stayed there for a few seconds, stunned by the force of the attack. By the time she pulled herself to her feet, the battle had taken a sudden, unexpected turn. The number of dragons in the sky had more than tripled, and Senndra knew that the tide of the battle had changed. The dragons were in a fierce aerial battle, letting loose frightful roars as they hit and unleashed streams of fire at each other. Already the ground was littered with the bodies of the great beasts, and as Senndra watched more of them fell out of the sky and crashed into the ground.

  The first soldiers reached the wall and stampeded up the stairs. Wasting no time, they rushed to the city’s defensive machines and began to retaliate to what had become the catapults’ constant pounding on the wall. Javelins and rocks flew from the various machines on the wall and crashed into the enemy ranks, wreaking havoc on them. The enemy machines struck back with increasing intensity. All along the wall, javelins and boulders hurled men and machines off of the wall. Pieces of the wall were smashed off of the whole and flew into the city, crushing whatever was in their way. The enemy was faring no better except for the fact that they were not being bombarded by as many projectiles. The javelins and rocks smashed siege engines and soldiers alike; however, for every one that was killed, another was ready to step up into his place.

  In the sky the dragons were not faring well either. They were outnumbered more than two to one and were struggling just to stay alive. Slowly they fell back toward the city, being closely followed by the enemy dragons until they were within range of the city. The ballistae and archers on the wall turned their fire on the enemy dragons and drove them away under a heavy rain of razor sharp projectiles. Wearily, the dragons landed in the city and rested. Their numbers had been cut in half in the short time that the battle had taken place, and many of those that remained were badly hurt. And still the catapults pummeled the wall, smashing pieces off and making it weaker with every blow. Off to the west a small army of dwarves made a foray at the wall, but the archers drove them back with little difficulty. A group of goblins rushed the gate and threw up several ladders. The fighting was intense for a few short minutes, but eventually the ladders were thrust from the wall and the goblins, those that remained, retreated. The catapults continued to assault the wall, whittling its strength down a little at a time.

  The sun was just beginning to rise in the east when disaster struck. The continual pounding of the catapults on the city wall had weakened it to such an extent that it gave way with a mighty crash, and a large section collapsed into nothing more than a pile of rubble. Senndra was sleeping at the base of the wall a hundred yards away when this happened, and she jerked awake with a start. It seemed to her that the world was falling apart, but as she quickly rubbed her eyes and looked around, she realized that it was much worse. She jumped to her feet and joined the other off duty soldiers or cadets who were rushing as fast as they could toward the hole in the wall. Though the wall was destroyed, it still provided a formidable barrier to the enemy. The rough stone that had collapsed into the hole was traversable, but not easily, and it was still being guarded by archers on either side. Many of the invaders were dropped as they tried to enter the city, but the massive flood of soldiers could not be held off indefinitely. Senndra arrived at the breach in time to see the first of the enemies struggling the last few feet into the city. With no time to think she slung her bow from her shoulders and let arrow after arrow fly into the enemy ranks. Several other cadets were doing the same thing, and scores of enemies fell with arrows protruding from their bodies. Even so, many of the dwarves and goblins made it across the mound of stone and threw themselves at the small group of defenders that had accumulated. Senndra still had her bow in her hand when suddenly she found herself facing a sword-wielding goblin. Frantically she reached for an arrow, realizing as she did so that she would be much too late to save herself. As the sword descended, she felt herself being thrust out of the way and watched as Timothy stepped into the scene. In one fist he held his sword and in the other was clenched a one-handed battle ax. Both weapons were raised to catch the blade of the goblin which they did with a loud ringing sound. With a swift twist of the ax, Timothy trapped the goblin’s blade, leaving his own sword free to be brought down and thrust upward into the goblin’s belly.

  Senndra rolled over and pushed herself to her feet. She drew her short sword and stepped toward the line of city defenders, waiting to take the place of the first one to fall. She did not have to wait long; a soldier fell with a sword through the stomach, and the victorious goblin stepped forward to take advantage of the gap. With an almost delicate move, Senndra stepped forward and slammed her sword into the goblin’s throat, pushing it until the hilt brought it to a stop. With a sideways slash she freed the blade, and the goblin collapsed to the ground. Senndra stooped down and retrieved the soldier’s shield then stepped into the line of defenders. A dwarf swung at her, but she blocked the blow with her shield. A slash at the dwarf’s unprotected side dispatched him, and another enemy stepped into his place. The fighting continued for several tense minutes, the attackers refusing to give up, and the defenders knowing that if they fell, the city would fall with them. Slowly the invaders seemed to be gaining the advantage as the defenders gave ground inch by inch. Their line was being stretched, and in a moment, the enemy would be able to swarm around the edges and attack them from behind. Just at that moment, when everything seemed lost, a roar was heard overhead. It startled most of the combatants, and they looked up in surprise, but Senndra knew the sound of a dragon and was able to maintain her presence of mind. A well-aimed thrust dropped the soldier in front of her, and she braced herself for the shock of the dragon hitting the ground. A large reddish gold dragon landed on the mound of rubble that had once been a wall. His massive bulk crushed at least a dozen soldiers immediately, and a flick of his tail sent more flying in all directions. The enemies still outside the city suddenly found themselves face to face with a dragon which seemed to them to be all claws and teeth. With terrified yells they turned back toward their lines; the dragon sent several fireballs chasing after them before turning his attention to the goblins and dwarves still inside the city. One snap of his jaws devoured one of them, and sent the rest scurrying straight into the swords of soldiers who slew those that remained. Senndra wiped her blade on the clothes of one of the fallen dwarves and slid it back into its sheath. She held onto the shield that she had acquired and walked slowly to where Timothy was kneeling on the ground.

  “Are you all right?” she asked when he was within earshot. It was then that she noticed the blood dripping from the fingers of his left hand and pooling on the ground beneath them. “What happened?” she cried. She rushed to his side.

  Timothy said nothing but raised his left hand so that she could see the wound. A deep cut ran from near his elbow to three inches from his wrist. As she watched, the flesh of the cut began to slowly close, but it only continued for an inch. Timothy, exhausted by the battle and the sudden use of magic, collapsed face first onto the grass, unconscious. Senndra rushed to his side, rolled him onto his back, and grabbed his left arm. Holding the gaping wound shut, she yelled for help to the men around her.

  ******

  The army outside Saddun continued to attack the city wall, but boulder after boulder crashed into the sturdy defense with little or no effect. Finally the barrage stopped and an uneasy silence hung over the battlefield until the sun rose. Slowly the defenders came out of hiding and began to stand on the wall. They could see the enemy army to the north looking like a
black plague that covered the land. Their camp was several miles square, and every inch of it was covered with tents, soldiers, or siege engines. People started to gather at the side of the camp closest to the city and the area began to swell with the influx of soldiers. The mass of black continued to swell until it burst like a dam letting out water, and the soldiers set out on a headlong rush at the city wall. The machines on the wall opened fire as soon as they came within range, but this did not deter the massive swarm of enemies. It appeared as though the entire army was coming, and they would not be turned aside for anything. Their war cry became clearer as they grew closer to the wall, and the courage of many defenders failed at the sound. As the swarm came within bow range, the archers opened fire on them, and many fell by the arrows, but many more reached the city wall.

  Ladders could be seen in the crowd of attackers, and in no time they had been thrown up against the wall, warriors crawling up them. Pike men scurried up and down the wall, pushing the ladders down, and the other hand to hand soldiers beat back the enemies that ascended the ladders, but there were too many. The enemy swarmed past the soldiers and onto the wall, almost overcoming the small defending force. The soldiers of Magessa were barely able to pull together and retreat off the wall and across the city. The enemy army, composed of a mixture of goblins, dwarves, orcs, and even humans gave chase, killing the stragglers. Frantically the army of Saddun tried to turn and fight several times, but in every instance, Molkekk’s army succeeded in driving them south. At the south end of the city, the army made a valiant stand, digging in their heels and trying to hold back the onslaught, but to no avail. With the full force of two hundred thousand soldiers, the enemy drove the cadets out of the city and onto the surrounding open fields. The attacking force quickly placed their archers on the wall and, with a steady rain of arrows, drove the army of Saddun away from the city that they had strived so hard to defend. As the army fled for their lives, Molkekk’s soldiers did not follow. Apparently they had accomplished their purpose and were in no hurry to move further into the country.

  The bad weather seemed to follow the army as it retreated south toward Feling, the capital of Gatlon. Josiah already missed his horse as he strode at the head of his legion, which had been decimated in the recent battle. Only three hundred of the original thousand remained, and these were mostly wounded, some so grievously that they were being carried by their comrades. The rest of the army had suffered as many casualties as Josiah's soldiers, and altogether there remained little more than two thousand warriors. Clearly defeated, they limped toward their destination at a slow pace, but one that would, nevertheless, get them there before the enemy. The mood of the army was not angry, nor was it defiant. Indeed either of these would have been better than the despair that had settled over the soldiers. It was in these conditions that they entered the city of Feling.

  Josiah and his soldiers sat outside in the elements as the high ranking officers of the army went inside to have a conference with the ruling council of Gatlon. He sat with his back against a building and pulled his cloak tighter around his body trying to preserve the heat that his body was struggling to generate. His clothes were thoroughly soaked, and a sharp wind cut through the city, chilling him to the bone. He wished that he could have gone inside with the General to confront the council. At least he would have been out of the rain, if not warm. Unbeknownst to Josiah, the General was wishing he could be outside instead of inside. Even the warmth of the room could not counteract the cool reception he had received. He had expected the council to be cooperative, but when he met with them, he found them to be quite the opposite.

  “What the heck do you mean there is no confirmed sighting?” he all but yelled at the spokesman of the council. “We were right there staring at the largest army that I have ever heard of. Don’t tell me that isn’t a confirmed sighting.”

  “We are just taking into consideration that you have clearly been in a stressful situation…”

  “You’re right I was in a stressful situation,” the General interrupted. “Facing down more than one hundred thousand enemies with only a few thousand men at your back is definitely stressful!”

  “There have been no other reports of such a large army, so we are simply considering the possibility that the stress of the attack made the army appear to you to be bigger than it actually was,” one of the councilmen said in an understanding tone. The General got the definite impression that the councilman was patronizing him, and he exploded.

  “What about the rest of my men?” he shouted. “What about the fact that they saw the same army that I did? Are you saying that all of us, being veterans of at least one battle, were so traumatized by an insignificant attack force that we imagined a much larger army and fled before it? Because if you are, you are insinuating that my men are cowards as well as crazy, and that is something that I will not stand for!”

  “I will ask you once to refrain from shouting in the council chambers,” the spokesman said. “If you do so again, you will be forcibly removed.”

  The General looked at the six council chamber guards scattered around the room. They were clearly ready for action. He glanced back at the five officers that he had brought with him. He knew the guards wouldn’t stand a chance against his men if they did try to throw them out, and in a sadistic sort of way he really wanted to pick a fight.

  “Who’s going to throw me out?” he asked. “Them?” He gestured to the guards. “They would probably have trouble throwing an old blanket out, much less six armed soldiers.” At the insult, every guard reached for his weapons, but the council spokesman raised his hand to restrain them.

  “I will tell you only once to remove yourself from our presence,” he said in a low tone. “If you do not, your good health after your expulsion cannot be guaranteed.”

  “I’m very frightened,” the General said in a tone that said the exact opposite. “I will leave now, but only because I need to take my army and be on my way immediately. Otherwise I would be happy to show your little guards what real soldiers can do. As it is, you’re going to need everyone that you can spare when the enemy gets here.”

  “No, we won’t need any men when the enemy gets here,” the spokesman muttered under his breath. The statement was not intended to be heard by anyone, and was so low that only the particularly sharp ears of the General picked it up. The General had turned to leave the chambers, but at the statement, he deliberately stalked across the room to the council spokesman. When he turned, every guard in the room drew his weapon and headed to detain him. They were too slow to stop the General from reaching the spokesman, grabbing the front of his shirt, and pulling him close to his face.

  “I would slit your throat now; however, you haven’t officially joined the enemy yet, and as such any act against you is treason,” the General growled in such a way that every man in the room heard him. He felt the hands of two guards on his shoulders, pulling him away from the spokesman. For a second he considered fighting them, but thought better of it and allowed them to roughly escort him to the door. Every one of his officers was staring directly at him, begging with their eyes to be allowed to lay into the guards, but he prevented them with a slight shake of his head. Just as he was almost to the door, the spokesman spoke again.

  “Threatening a council member is a severe crime,” he said. “You do realize that, don’t you?”

  “Not if the councilman in question is corrupt and a traitor,” the General responded, turning to face the spokesman.

  “Say what you like,” the spokesman replied. “What you have done is a crime, and I can’t allow criminals to run rampant over this county.” To the guards he said, “Take him to the dungeon. We will try him tomorrow, but with all of the witnesses in the room, the trial should be very brief.”

  “I would not try to restrain me in this way,” the General warned the spokesman. “If you do, it could go very badly for you. Keep in mind that I do have more than two thousand men at my command, and none of them will be v
ery pleased when they hear what you have done.”

  “I will not allow the pleasure of the masses to affect the way in which justice is served,” the spokesman responded.

  “I would commend you for that if justice was being served,” the General stated clearly. “As it is, all that I can say is, may Elohim be merciful to you; because if my men do not kill you, our enemies will not be gentle even though you are turning to their side.”

  The spokesman said nothing but merely motioned with his hand for the guards to take their prisoner out. One of them relieved the General of his sword and the two that had his arms led him out of the room. They were closely followed by two more of the guards who had their weapons drawn and were making sure that the following officers kept their distance.

  “So are you in on the treachery as well or are you simply following your authority?” the General asked the guards that were leading him. When they were silent, he tried another tactic. “Do you really think that they will treat you well simply because you chose to join them? Ha! The best treatment that you can expect is to be forced to fight against your own brothers as the army sweeps across Magessa.”

  “Shut up,” one of the guards blurted out. “You know nothing of what you speak. Molkekk is merciful to those who realize their mistakes and follow him.”

  “What do you mean ‘Molkekk is merciful?’” the other guard demanded, stopping in mid-step.