by Peter Last
In the next room, the dwarves were searching for their prey. They were slowly making their way toward where Lemin and the others were hiding. As the dwarves got closer, they sensed that their query was near and began to run. Senndra, following Lemin’s lead, readied herself for an attack. Suddenly Lemin’s favorite phrase jumped into her head: “Always attack first.” Just as the foremost dwarf was about to enter the armor room, she jumped from her hiding place and slammed her weapon up to the hilt in the dwarf’s chest. She tried to yank it free, but as she braced herself, a hand grabbed the back of her shirt and flung her backwards just as the ceiling of the adjoining room collapsed on the dwarf and her sword.
“What the heck was that?” Lemin said from the ground where he dove just as the ceiling collapsed
“I don’t know,” Vladimir said with a sideways glance at Timothy, “but whatever it was, it weakened the supports for this ceiling. If we don’t get out of here fast, we’re going to be in trouble.”
“Over here,” Timothy called from the back of the room. He was using the blade of his knife to pry at the floor, and before long, a trapdoor opened. Without a second thought, Lemin and Senndra hurried to the trapdoor.
Vladimir followed Timothy through the hole, and Senndra was about to when Lemin stopped her. “You’ll need weapons, Senndra,” he yelled. Senndra turned to see that he was holding the sword and bow from Jothnial’s armor. She gratefully took the weapons from his hand to replace her lost ones. She turned back to the trapdoor but felt Lemin's hand on her shoulder.
“You’ll want this as well,” he said, handing her a pendant. The cross of Elohim hung from a thin golden chain. At its center was a stylized figure of a dragon. The pendant was made entirely of silver except for the dragon's single visible eye which was a small ruby chip.
Senndra draped the chain around her neck and tucked the dragon figure into her shirt. She quickly slid through the trapdoor, her boots landing on a hard-packed dirt path. Although it was dark, she quickly moved further into the tunnel. She heard Lemin land behind her, and the trapdoor above him thudded into place just in time.
The sound was absorbed by the dirt walls of the tunnel, so the only way Senndra knew that the building above had collapsed was by the way it shook the ground. Dirt rained from the walls and ceiling of the tunnel, and for a second, Senndra thought it would cave in and kill them. By some miracle, it did not.
“Let’s move,” Lemin ordered. “I don’t know how long this tunnel is going to hold up, but I don’t want to be in it when it decides to fall down.”
The cadets followed their instructor down the tunnel. There was no light, so they had to each keep their hand on the person in front of them. They traveled for no more than a minute before their progress stopped.
“This tunnel is a dead end,” Lemin said after a few seconds. “It feels like it caved in when the building collapsed. There doesn’t appear to be any way through… no, wait. There is some sort of stone pipe here that might run through the collapsed section of tunnel. At least, I can feel a breeze coming through it. It’s going to be a little tight, but I think we can manage.”
By this time, Senndra’s eyes had adjusted to the gloom of the tunnel and she saw a bit of light from where Lemin felt the breeze. Either that or she was just imagining it. In either case, she watched as Lemin disappeared into the hole in the wall. His head vanished first, but was quickly followed by his waist and his feet. As he disappeared completely into the hole, some dirt slid to the floor. The integrity of the tunnel didn’t seem to have been damaged, so Vladimir entered next. He quickly slid through the hole, and all too soon it was Senndra’s turn. She was terrified by the prospect of crawling into a small hole that ended in an unknown place. She had always been a bit claustrophobic, but had learned to control it. Now that fear came flooding back with such force that she physically shuddered at the thought of entering the hole.
“Hurry up, Senndra,” Timothy urged. “We can't stay here; we have to keep moving.” He looked at her, saw that she was shivering, and realized what was plaguing her. “It’s going to be fine,” he told her, taking one of her hands. “Lemin and Vladimir went in front of you, and I’ll be directly behind you. Besides that, Elohim is looking out for us. Nothing is going to happen to you.”
“You really think that Elohim has time to look out for me?” Senndra asked. “There’s a battle going on up there. No doubt there are plenty of other people more important than me that He’s looking out for. He probably doesn’t have time for me.”
“You know that isn’t true,” Timothy said. “Elohim is interested in the well-being of all His people no matter where they are or what they are doing.”
Senndra nodded and turned toward the hole. She took a deep breath and plunged in. She pulled herself through the stone pipe by the tips of her fingers for several minutes. Many times she felt herself begin to panic, but the thought of Elohim looking out for her comforted her and enabled her to keep the emotion under control. Suddenly the tunnel ended and she fell through another wall of dirt and hit the floor. Instantly Lemin and Vladimir were at her side, helping her to stand.
“How far behind you is Timothy?” Lemin asked.
“He said he was going to be directly behind me," Senndra answered.
A body fell through the hole in the wall and landed with a crash. Lemin and Senndra hurried to lift him to his feet. A spark flashed behind them, and they spun around, their weapons already out of their sheaths.
“Whoa! It's just some flint and steel,” Vladimir’s voice said from the darkness. “I never go anywhere without it. We should be able to use this to light something. It will burn out fairly quickly, but if we move fast, we can cover a lot of distance in that time.”
“Well, let’s get moving then,” Lemin said and shoved his sword back into its sheath. “Vladimir, you’ll be in front with your torch. I’ll come directly after, followed by Senndra and then Timothy.”
“With your permission, sir,” Timothy spoke up, “I’ll collapse the tunnel so that no one can come up behind us.”
“Can you do that?” Lemin asked.
“Yes sir, I believe I can,” Timothy answered.
“Then do so and catch up with us when you're finished,” Lemin ordered. Then, to Vladimir, he said, “Okay, let’s move out.”
There was the sound of flint striking steel, but this time the light didn’t fade. A cloak that Vladimir had wrapped around a splintered plank from the surrounding rubble was now burning. The tunnel was bathed with light, and Vladimir immediately took off running. Lemin was close behind him, and Senndra sprinted in order to keep up with them. Behind them she could feel more than hear the sound of the tunnel caving in, and she forced herself to run faster. Finally the light died and flickered out. But even as it did, she could tell that Lemin and Vladimir were still running. She heard them say something about light up ahead and then there was the sound of them drawing their weapons. She reached for the sword on her back and did the same. Enough light filtered through the end of the tunnel so that she was able to see where the stairs began. Panting slightly, she took them two at a time and burst into the open. Behind her she could hear the noise of running and turned around to see Timothy appear out of the tunnel.
“What’s going on?” he gasped when he reached her. He turned and glanced over the field of battle. The dwarves had just broken through the barrier that was directly to the north of the stream that ran through the middle of the city, and the defenders were fleeing across the stream on planks laid across its width. Senndra had heard from Lemin that pitch had been poured into the stream, and she expected someone to light it, but nothing happened.
“Something’s wrong,” she told Timothy in a worried tone. “Nobody has lit the stream.”
“What do you mean?” Timothy asked. He looked up and surveyed the battle field in front of him.
“Before the attack, our people poured pitch into the stream,” Senndra explained. “They planned on lighting it when the dwarves cross
ed. But now that they’re crossing, nothing's happening.”
“There’s always the possibility that they’re waiting for a few more dwarves to enter the stream,” Timothy said. “But judging by how many have already crossed, I would say that is not the case. Follow me.”
Timothy took off at a fast run to where Lemin stood behind the sixth barrier, preparing for an attack from the dwarves. The defenders had expected someone to light the pitch and had not retreated to the next barrier immediately. Now they realized that there was a problem and were running as quickly as possible to the relative safety of the sixth barrier.
Timothy reached Lemin and slid to a sitting position with his back to the barrier. Senndra was close behind him and was seated beside him only seconds later. Lemin dropped to one knee, and while keeping his bow ready and one eye on the approaching enemy, he turned his attention to Timothy.
“Commander,” Timothy yelled above the ruckus, “wasn’t the pitch in the stream supposed to be lighted when the dwarves started to cross?”
“Something's wrong!" Lemin shouted back. “The archer that was supposed to do it was stationed in that tower over there.” Lemin pointed to a rickety wooden platform a couple hundred yards east. The platform was almost on the bank of the stream and had an ideal vantage point. But it had very few defensive structures incorporated into it. Even from where she stood, Senndra could see that there were several dead soldiers in it.
“The dwarves are butchering our men out there,” Timothy shouted.
“And what can we do about that?” Lemin asked as he loosed an arrow into the enemy.
“I have an idea,” Timothy said. “Do you have any oil?”
“No,” Lemin responded and loosed another arrow, “but I see a torch to the west; and wherever there is a torch, there is fuel.”
Timothy rose to his feet and sprinted down the wall, avoiding the soldiers that were pouring over it and taking defensive positions. Senndra followed behind him, sprinting as fast as possible, but she was left behind. As she ran, she could see Timothy searching for a torch that was not lit. She dropped to a safe position when she reached him, and he carried a torch to where she sat. With a quick motion, he reached under his shirt and tore off the sleeve. He rubbed the piece of cloth vigorously against the end of the torch until it was coated in pitch and then wrapped it around the tip of an arrow, which he handed to Senndra.
“You’re a much better marksman than me,” he said. “It’s at least a hundred yards to the stream, and I can’t arc an arrow to hit the water, but I know you can.”
Senndra took the arrow and weighed it carefully in her hand. She wanted to argue that she couldn’t make the shot either, but she knew that would be a lie. She laid the arrow on the ground and reached back for her bow. Instead she touched the bow of her father, Jothnial. She strung it quickly and laid the arrow on the string. Legend said that the bow had magical powers that would enable the user to hit any mark at any distance. Senndra hoped it was true. She would need all the help she could get. She peeked over the barrier and gauged the distance to the stream. Already, the expanse between it and the barrier was swarming with dwarves, making estimation difficult. She figured that it couldn’t be more than two hundred yards or less than one hundred. She looked down and inhaled deeply, trying to let the tension out of her body.
“God,” she prayed silently as she crouched. “I know that I can make this shot, but it’s going to be difficult with only an estimated distance and with people shooting at me. Please be with me as I fire. Guide my arrow and help it fly true to its target.”
Senndra opened her eyes and saw that Timothy was taking his hands away from the arrow, which was now blazing. He had two rocks in his hands that Senndra guessed were flint and steel. She stayed crouched for one more moment then rose to her full height and drew the arrow back. She pointed the arrow up to what she guessed was the right elevation and let it fly. She dropped down to a crouch and watched with anxiety as the arrow arched over the enemy army. It reached its apex and began to drop back toward the earth, sparks flaking off of it and floating in its wake. Senndra held her breath as it approached its target. It hit the mass of dwarf soldiers and disappeared into their midst. For several seconds nothing happened, but Senndra kept her eyes on the stream. Suddenly it exploded with a burst of fire that spread quickly down the entire length of the city. Dwarves screamed in pain as they were consumed by the flames, and others scrambled to get away from the inferno.
A shout sounded at the barrier and the defenders poured from behind it at their enemies. The dwarves panicked as they found themselves trapped between fire on one side and charging soldiers on the other. Some tried to escape through the fire and were burned, while others were slaughtered by the advancing soldiers. Soon, the south side of the stream was clear of dwarves. Senndra and Timothy ran to where they saw Lemin and Vladimir returning from the carnage.
“How was that, commander?” Timothy asked. “Don’t you think that was an admirable shot?”
“It could have been better,” Lemin grumbled. It was obvious that he thought Timothy was complimenting himself.
“Well, you can think what you want,” Timothy said, “but I think Senndra made an excellent shot. In fact, I would even say that it was a brilliant shot.”
Vladimir saved Lemin from embarrassment by speaking. “The shot wasn't bad,” he said, “Let’s just say that it did its job, and that’s good enough for me. At least for the time being we have a wall of fire between us and them, and we’re safe.”
“That's true,” Lemin said, “but in only a couple minutes, that fire will die down, and we will have to face the full fury of the dwarf army. You had better rest as much as you can while I go speak to the other commanders here.”
Lemin strode off in the direction of a gathering of soldiers, leaving his three cadets at the barrier. Senndra looked over at her two comrades and saw that Timothy had already fallen asleep with his head resting against a barrel. Vladimir was making himself comfortable, and he was soon motionless as well. Senndra sighed and propped herself up so that she could see over the barrier. She knew that someone needed to stay awake to warn the others when the dwarves renewed their attack. Soon the monotony of the task overtook Senndra, and her mind began to wander. She thought of Feddir, who she had left at the academy of Belvárd. When she had last seen him, he was not much bigger than a large cat. But she knew that when she saw him again, he would probably have at least doubled in size. She tried to remember all that she could about him—the color of his skin, his exact dimensions, even how many teeth he had. She gradually found herself longing to have the little creature with her, and she began to despair over the possibility of never seeing him again. Yet even as she despaired, she thanked Elohim for the opportunity that she had had to know Feddir at all. She also prayed for protection for herself and for all of the defenders of the city.
******
A shout jolted Senndra from her sleep, and she jerked her head up. One glance told her that the dwarves were preparing themselves for another attack, so she jumped to her feet. She glanced at Timothy and Vladimir and saw that they were yawning and rubbing their eyes. Turning back to the battle, she nocked an arrow and drew it back to her ear. From the remaining flames of the stream, a single dwarf carrying a white flag approached the defenders. Senndra held her fire at the sight of the white flag and slowly released the tension on the bowstring. The dwarf walked to within shouting distance of the defenders and began to speak.
“Citizens of Magessa, the enemy of the dark lord Molkekk, lend me your ears. You are being pressed from the front by more than one hundred thousand soldiers. We are certain that no reinforcements will come and we know that you are lacking in numbers. But the dark lord has ordered us to offer you terms of peace. If you will but lay down your weapons and surrender yourselves to our army, we will spare all of you. You will be made subjects of lord Molkekk, but you will be treated well. You will find yourselves just as well off as you were before. We do not wan
t to needlessly slaughter you here. What say you to these terms of peace?”
No one answered for a few seconds. They had not expected an offer of peace from Molkekk, and it stunned them into silence. Finally someone spoke up.
“You lie!” he shouted at the dwarf. “You said that you do not want to needlessly slaughter us here, but I know that you would much rather do that than spare us. Now leave before you are shot where you stand.”
“It is true that we used to be a violent people that would rather kill than take prisoners,” the dwarf answered, “but the lord Molkekk has changed us. Now we would rather offer you mercy at the order of our lord.”
“And what about Elohim?” the same defender shouted. “Why have you forsaken him for an inferior lord? We all know that Elohim could squish Molkekk between his thumb and forefinger if he wanted.”
“Then why hasn’t he?” the dwarf asked. “It is because Elohim is nonexistent. He is a myth that was invented to frighten small children into doing what they were told and to give the people of Magessa hope. Give me one example of when he has shown that he lives. You cannot, for there is none.
“The lord Molkekk, on the other hand, is quite alive. He has been seen by thousands of people and has even fought against you in times past. He has a lineage traceable back to the earliest times, and he will last for eternity. He is the true ruler of Magessa, and none will stand in his way. You can either move aside and surrender, or be crushed into oblivion.”
“He is shaking the confidence of our people,” Timothy noted to Senndra. “Shoot him before he does any more damage.”
Without waiting for another command, Senndra drew back her arrow and let it fly at the dwarf. It approached him from the side, and he never even saw it before it slammed into his head, penetrating his brain. He slumped sideways, his white flag crumpled beneath him.
“Well, get ready for all hell to break loose,” Vladimir said. “You can bet that after that we won’t get another offer of peace.”