by Peter Last
Within minutes, Vladimir’s prediction came true. The dwarves formed themselves into a solid wall and rushed at the defenders. Three volleys of arrows hit the dwarves before they reached the ranks of Magessa. But for every dwarf that fell, another stepped up to take his place. The attack fell back slightly under the rain of arrows, but eventually the defenders grew tired and the arrows faltered. Again the dwarves attacked, but this time they were being covered by their own crossbow men. The soldiers that tried to fire at the attackers were cut down by the deadly hail of enemy arrows.
“There’s no chance that we can hold them here,” Vladimir yelled over the ruckus of battle. “There’s too many of them even if we were able to shoot at them.”
“Well, we’re not leaving until we get the order,” Timothy shouted back. “We’re not abandoning our post.”
“We’ll get cut down once the enemy reaches us,” Vladimir commented. He peeked over the barricade to check the dwarves’ advancement.
“The enemy cross bows will cut us down if we try to run,” Timothy countered. “At least we’ll be safe from arrows once we get among the dwarves.”
“That’s a small comfort,” Senndra muttered as she slid her sword from the scabbard on her back. She ran her finger down the blade, feeling every imperfection. Just touching the blade instilled courage in her. Her father had wielded this very sword in battle many times and never once shrank from his duty. Not even when it cost him his life in a battle with Molkekk did he run, and Senndra promised herself that she would wield the sword with equal valor. The enemies of Elohim would learn to fear it again.
“Get ready,” Timothy said. He peeked over the top of the barricade. “They’re almost here,” he said and sat down again.
“How close?” Vladimir asked. A dwarf vaulted over the barricade and Timothy leaped to his feet and took off his head with a single swipe.
“They’re pretty blasted close,” he said and turned to hold back the flood of dwarves flowing over the barricade. Vladimir and Senndra sprang to their feet and pressed their backs against Timothy’s, forming a triangle. The three companions battled the vicious dwarves with all of their energy, swinging and parrying until their arms ached. Still they knew that if they let down their guard, not only would they die, but it would mean the death of their friends as well.
The dwarves didn’t know how to handle the presence of three seemingly unbeatable enemies. They threw themselves at the three warriors time and time again, but nothing could break past their flashing swords. After what seemed like an eternity, the dwarves fell back and allowed a circle of empty ground around the defenders. Senndra dropped her sword point to the ground, but kept her eyes on the enemy. She could sense that something was about to happen, and she didn’t think it was going to be good. To the north, the dwarves’ crossbow men were moving toward where the defenders were entrenched behind the seventh barrier. A dozen of them stopped when they reached the empty ground, loaded their bows, and prepared to fire.
Timothy swore and covered his face with his hand. Vladimir was focused intently on something in front of him, and Senndra was the only one to act. She stabbed her sword into the ground and grabbed her bow from where she had slung it on her back. A skill that was largely considered useless, but that she had learned at the academy came to mind. She turned the bow horizontal, grabbed two arrows from her quiver, and with skill that could only be acquired from hours of practice, placed them both on the string. She pulled back the string and, without waiting to aim, let the arrows fly. One of them missed the archers entirely, but the other buried itself in the arm of one of them. A split second later, Senndra had three arrows on the string and let them fly again. This time one of them hit a dwarf full in the face, dropping him instantly. The remaining two glanced off the armor of other archers. Senndra reached back for more arrows, but her quiver was exhausted. With an air of dejection, she turned toward the archers and watched as the remaining ones lifted their crossbows and took aim.
“Fire!”
The command came from behind Senndra, and she glanced back in time to see several dozen arrows streak past her and her friends. The deadly barrage knifed through the dwarf archers, dropping them like flies. Senndra grabbed her sword, and she and her friends turned and fled back toward the safety of the barricade; however, they found their way blocked by a group of dwarves that had turned to face them. Timothy and Vladimir looked at each other, shrugged, and each jerked a knife from his belt and threw it at the dwarves. Both projectiles hit their targets, opening a hole in the dwarf line. Within seconds, Timothy, Vladimir, and Senndra had taken advantage of it. With drawn swords, they hacked their way through the dwarf army to where the defenders were trying desperately to hold the barricade. Their task was made easier by the fact that most of the dwarves were facing the defenders and were unable to protect themselves. In less than a minute, the companions had gained the relative safety of the barricade and immediately turned around and helped to hold the dwarves back. Time seemed to disappear as they swung, parried, and killed. Senndra slowly felt herself relax, and her learned reflexes took over. She tried to imagine that she was not battling for her life, but that she was fighting her friends in friendly combat. As she did, her movements became more fluid and she was able to gain the upper hand. Previously, she had been trying simply to survive; now she was able to hold her own against the dwarves much more easily. A dwarf approached Timothy from the back and raised his ax to strike, but he never had a chance. Senndra disemboweled him with a swift stroke then brought the blade around and plunged it into a dwarf that was threatening her.
Slowly the attack began to lessen, and finally the dwarves pulled back from the barricade. The defenders knew that to follow would be suicide, so they stayed where it was safe. As the archers peppered the dwarves until they were out of range, Senndra searched for arrows and found the quiver of a deceased dwarf. She took it from the body, brought it back to the wall, and laid an arrow on the string. By this time, the defending archers had turned their attention to the advancing line of crossbow dwarves. Commanders rushed up and down the barricade, forming the archers into groups. As one would fire, another was reloading so as to keep up a constant barrage of arrows. The crossbow dwarves marched steadily toward the defenders until they were within range of the bowmen. Every crossbowman had an arrow on his string, but still the command to fire was withheld; and still the dwarves drew nearer. Senndra bit her lip and tried to hold her emotions in check, but the calmness she had recently experienced when fighting hand-to-hand was now replaced by tension and impatience. The dwarves were finally able to fire on the defenders and raised their crossbows and took aim.
“Duck!” Vladimir hissed and dropped behind the barricade. Timothy and Senndra followed suit and saw that, along the length of the barrier, the other defenders were doing the same. The sound of bow strings snapping was heard, and a barrage of deadly sharp arrows flew at the barricade. Most of them passed harmlessly over the top or buried themselves in the barrier, but out of the corner of her eye, Senndra saw one smash through the wall and impale Timothy’s right shoulder. Timothy was flung to the ground, where he writhed in pain and grabbed at his shoulder. His actions induced more pain, and he desisted. Vladimir crawled over to him and began to examine the arrow.
From down the barricade, the call to fire was given, and Senndra jumped to her feet and took aim. The dwarf archers had fired their loaded bolts and were now desperately trying to reload in time to fire on the defending archers. Arrows rained down on the dwarves, and they began to drop; however, the impact was minimal. For every dwarf that fell, at least ten were unharmed and hurried to reload their crossbows. Before Senndra could get another arrow on her bow string, the dwarves fired. She ducked, barely escaping death. She glanced over at her friends and saw that Vladimir had succeeded in getting the arrow out of Timothy’s shoulder, and they were in the process of bandaging it. Senndra peeked over the wall and saw that the dwarf infantry was again charging toward the defenders. She a
nd several hundred other archers rose to their feet and sent a swarm of arrows at the enemy. The dwarves’ progress halted as if they had hit a wall, and in seconds they were scrambling back out of range of the enemy archers. Again the dwarf archers fired and again Senndra ducked behind the barricade just in time. By this time, Timothy’s shoulder was bandaged, and he had his sword gripped in his left hand. Vladimir turned back to Senndra and mouthed something to her that she could not determine, so she shrugged and turned to look over the barricade. This time, unlike the previously unorganized attempts, the dwarves were advancing in an orderly fashion, with the infantry in front and crossbow men behind them. The defending archers rose from behind the barricade and fired again. This time, however, most of their arrows hit the infantry and didn’t even penetrate to the archers. In response, the dwarf archers rained a hail of crossbow bolts on the defenders, wreaking havoc among their ranks. Senndra dropped behind the wall and crawled to where Timothy and Vladimir sat with their backs against the barricade.
“They’re advancing again,” she said. “They’re taking it nice and slow, but even so, I would say they’ll be here in less than a minute.” She turned to Timothy. “Perhaps you should get back behind the next barricade before they reach us.”
“And perhaps you should consider what you just said,” Timothy retorted. “The enemy has archers, so anyone that leaves cover will be shot down in no time. Besides,” he added with a grin, “I placed first in the sword-play contest at the academy. I think I can kill a few of these brutes—even if it is left-handed.”
“As you wish,” Senndra said. She pulled the sword on her back from its sheath and laid it across her knees. Her fingers traced the blade from hilt to tip and back. Unlike many swords of its era, it had no runes or sketches on it, but was composed entirely of unmarked silver. Even in the brief time that she had used it, she had succeeded in giving it several notches and hundreds of scratches. Again she remembered how her father had wielded the very same sword without shrinking from his duty, even in the face of death, and her resolve was strengthened. Under no circumstance would she fail him. She would stand and fight to the death.
She gripped the hilt of the sword with both hands and held it so that the point extended in front of her.
“Get ready,” Vladimir called over his shoulder. “They’re coming. And when they get here, it is not going to be pretty.”
“Of course not,” Timothy said grimly. “Everyone knows that dwarves are ugly.”
Senndra snorted at the attempt at humor and then allowed herself to relax. Even as she curled her feet underneath her body, she released the tension in her muscles and allowed her nerves to relax. At a shout from Vladimir, she jumped to her feet and spun around, her sword ready to kill. The first dwarf seemed surprised at her sudden appearance, and she dispatched him before he could even attempt to defend himself. The next dwarf had time to think before he reached her and attacked with his ax swinging. Senndra found the feeble attempt funny and laughed as she hopped lightly over the blow and stabbed her sword into the enemy. The dwarves attacked on every side, trying to breach the barrier. But all along the wall, the defenders were determined to hold back the attack. For almost a quarter of an hour, the fighting continued without either side gaining the advantage. In an instant, however, the dwarves found the hole they needed. Several hundred yards from Senndra, a defender fell at the hands of a dwarf, and there was no one to take his place. Instantly, the dwarves pushed through the opening and swarmed along the barricade, killing the unsuspecting defenders.
“Heads up!” Senndra yelled to her companions. Her cry saved dozens of cadets to her left and right as they looked up and saw the dwarves had breached the defending line. The defenders began to gather into circles, with soldiers facing out from all sides. As the dwarves surged forward, they were hindered by these knots of resistance. With one last swipe that took a dwarf’s head off, Senndra jumped off the wall and hurried to take her place in a circle.
“Fall back!” The order was issued from the south, behind the next barricade.
“You heard the man,” Senndra yelled at those around her. “Let’s move that way,” and she gestured to the south. “I’ll stay to cover your retreat.” She absorbed herself in attacking the dwarves, slashing and stabbing at them if they got within her range. Beside her, she could sense two cadets that she knew would be Vladimir and Timothy. Together the three friends did their best to hold back the tide of attackers, but there were too many dwarves. They pushed around the small group, forcing them to change their formation into a circle. But even as they did so, an explosion rocked the city off to the east. It was followed shortly by another to the west, which was much closer than the first. The blasts threw the enemy into disarray. Dwarves scattered everywhere, trying to get away from the detonation areas. Another explosion shook the city, this time less than a hundred yards to the east. Dwarves were thrown in all directions, raining bodies and gear down on those below. Senndra raised her arm to shield herself from the falling debris, but she took a blow to the head from the shaft of an ax. She sank to the ground, and all she could see were stars. She tried to pull herself from her stupor but was unable to do so. She didn’t hear Timothy saying that the explosions would cover their retreat, and neither he nor Vladimir noticed that she did not follow them to the next barricade. Instead, she slumped to the ground with her head on her hands. The last thing she remembered was the reality that the warm sticky fluid all over her face was blood. Then she blacked out.
Five
Lemin saw Timothy and Vladimir coming toward the barricade. He could not tell through the dust thrown up by the recent explosions whether or not Senndra was with them, but he had a bad feeling. An eastern wind blew a cloud of dust across the battlefield, obscuring his view entirely. But when Timothy and Vladimir burst out of the cloud, he instantly realized that Senndra was not there. Timothy and Vladimir covered the last hundred feet to the barricade and leaped over it. They slumped against it and tried to catch their breath from the sprint they had just made. Lemin quickly made his way over to them and knelt down beside them.
“What happened to Senndra?” he asked with urgency in his voice.
“What do you mean?” Vladimir asked with a gasp. “She was right behind us, wasn’t she?”
“No she wasn’t,” Lemin said. “I didn’t see any sign of her. But you’re saying that as far as you know, she’s still out there alive?”
“As far as I know,” Timothy said.
“Then I’m going out after her,” Lemin said and stood to his feet.
“I’ll come with you,” Timothy said and rose unsteadily to his feet.
“You’re too tired to keep up with me,” Lemin said. “Even if you could, you would be more of a liability than a help with that shoulder wound. You stay here and get some rest. That’s an order.”
Lemin turned and bounded over the barricade and made his way into the smoke. As he ran, he drew his sword and held it out in an aggressive position. He couldn’t see anything through the dust in the air, and he hoped that he wasn’t going in circles. He staggered through the cloud for several minutes, trying to find his way out, and when he did, it was so sudden that he was not prepared for it. One second he was in the cloud and the next he was through it and in the open air. He threw a quick glance in both directions looking for Senndra, but so many bodies dotted the ground that he doubted he would be able to spot her from a distance. Without a moment’s hesitation, he started running, keeping an eye on the bodies on the ground, but also keeping watch for any hostile troops. Ahead he could see a group of dwarves surrounding a body, and he quickened his stride. The dwarves would not waste time on a dead body, which meant the one that held their attention was clearly alive. Lemin had a feeling it was the person he was seeking. His pace increased to a sprint, and he covered the last dozen yards in less than a second. With a thunderous roar, he leaped through the air and landed in the middle of the dwarves. His sword swung hard, decapitating two dwarves and forcin
g the others to back up. With a quick glance, he saw that he was greatly outnumbered, facing as many as twenty enemies. A sideways look confirmed that this was Senndra; the dragon pendant that he had given to her earlier had come loose and was lying on her chest.
Lemin suddenly felt as though he was being drawn out of himself and that he was watching from a distance. He felt a presence that he had not felt for years begin to seep into his consciousness. He did not push it away as he normally did, but allowed it to remain and grow. For how long this continued, he could never remember, but as it spread, images of his past began to flash through his mind. He saw himself as a young man at the temple of Elohim beginning his training as a magician. He was struggling to raise a small stone, but in a moment years had passed and he was effortlessly making the stones disappear and reappear. Next, he was commissioned into a secret organization that was composed entirely of magicians. Then the ogres attacked, and he tried to cover his face, but nothing could blot out the sight that had caused him to turn his back on Elohim. He and the group of magicians under his command were surprised by hostile ogres in a narrow canyon. He was running down the rocky canyon, trying to escape the death that was behind him. He tripped and rolled down a small hill, then jumped back to his feet and was running again. He was safe now and made his way back to the site of the ambush. There was no sign of the ogres; the only bodies in sight were those of his companions. There was no sign of life in any of the bodies; all of them were dead, with gaping wounds. Pictures of his dead companions flashed past his eyes in succession, each more hideous than the last.
Such was the sight that had caused Lemin to turn from Elohim. He did not understand how He could let such atrocities happen if He was indeed an all-powerful God. Why would he let so many magicians, all in His service, be ambushed and killed? Lemin had had no answers when the event had occurred, and he had none now; however, he had seen enough since then to know that Elohim had a purpose for everything, even something as awful as he had been through. Until this point, Lemin had been unwilling to accept this reality, but now he believed it without reservation. As he thought about it, it was the slaughter of his men that had caused him to take a teaching job at the academy of Belvárd where he had been able to mentor many of the country’s best warriors, including Senndra, Timothy, and Vladimir. Lemin knew that Senndra was destined for great things, but Timothy and Vladimir were different altogether. They were trying to keep their respective secrets, but Lemin had guessed what they were from the first days that he had seen them. It was hard to hide secrets from a magician, even if he was out of practice in the arts.