by Doug Niles
“Get these men out of here,” Jaymes said, assisting the wounded knight to stand. “Find a bottleneck in one of these side streets and try to make a stand there.”
“Yes, my lord,” the man replied. “By the Oath and the Measure, they will not pass!”
“Good,” said the lord marshal, clapping the man on the shoulder. In a few steps they came to a side street, finding a dozen men-at-arms standing there, looking wildly from the lord marshal to the ogres, who lumbered down the avenue toward them barely a stone’s throw away. When he looked across the plaza, the lord marshal saw the elemental king had passed this way, smashing a crude swath through several rows of sturdy stone houses.
“You stay here; help these men fight the ogres,” Jaymes ordered the boy, who nodded seriously. “And for the sake of all the gods, form a line!” he barked at the men who were still staring, aghast, at the scene in the plaza. “Rouse yourselves! Hold this street!”
“You heard him! Line up!” snapped the Sword Knight, suddenly finding his voice.
“Yeah! Line up!” shouted the boy.
Jaymes reached over his shoulder and drew Giantsmiter. With the blade extended, he started away at a sprint, heading for the ruins that spoke of the elemental king’s passage.
He hadn’t gone halfway when he was startled by a familiar voice and out of the corner of his eye he spied a small figure, waving to him from beneath one of the city’s ubiquitous sewer grates.
“Jaymes—hey, Lord Marshal! Yoo-hoo!”
The voice, quite unmistakably, belonged to Moptop Bristlebrow, professional guide and pathfinder extraordinaire.
“What are you doing down there?” he demanded.
“Looking for you!” cried the kender. “And you won’t believe what I just heard.…”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
A SMALL ATTACK
Jaymes, with Moptop in tow, accosted a Captain of Swords who stood with a small band of men at a barricade on the Duke’s Avenue. “I need to find the duchess!” the lord marshal announced. “Where is she?”
“She was commanding the left flank,” the knight offered. “I saw her come down from the tower before the giant stormed through. The garrison has a strong point at the Black Tiger Inn—the big stone house, there—and I think that’s where she went.”
Nodding his thanks, Jaymes took off at a sprint, skirting the plaza—still crawling with ogres—and heading through a narrow alley. The kender, unusually somber, trotted along, keeping up. They reached the Black Tiger a moment later and were both quickly passed through the gate into a large courtyard.
They halted to make way for a company of archers, all of them young men, scrambling up a ladder to take positions on the roof. A messenger came racing in the same door the swordsman and the kender had entered, shouting a plea toward the stables. “Ogres are flanking the Duke’s Avenue—a dozen or more, heading through the Silver District!” he called.
Four knights quickly mounted their horses and put spurs to the steeds, racing across the courtyard as a pair of men swung open the main gate. The riders clattered into the street, and the barrier was swung shut before they reached the first corner.
“The duchess has to be in there,” Moptop said, pointing toward the inn’s main hall, a large stone building on the other side of the courtyard.
Men in armor were coming and going through the open door to that hall, and the pair crossed over to it quickly. Jaymes entered the building and squinted as his eyes adjusted to the semidarkness. Moptop followed, sticking close by his side.
The duchess was speaking to some of her captains at a table. Lord Harbor was pacing nervously behind her. Brianna’s face was ashen, and she had a scrape on her cheek, but she was poised, her words commanding. He could see at a glance that her presence had a calming effect on the agitated men-at-arms who had gathered around the table.
“My Lord Marshal,” she said, looking up at his approach. “I’m glad to see you; we all feared you perished when the giant crossed the plaza.”
“Many did,” he said. “I was fortunate.”
“But what can we do now?” she asked, a hint of despair in her voice. “The elemental has destroyed blocks of buildings and roams unchecked through the city. At the same time, ogres and goblins are spilling through the gatehouse. I’m afraid.…”
Her voice trailed off, but he could see the fear in her eyes. Her city and her people were doomed.
“The situation is bad, but we may have some options,” Jaymes declared, striding to the table. The knight captains made room for him at the side of the duchess and even allowed Moptop to push his way into the midst of armored men. “It’s true, we can’t fight the elemental. I don’t know what on Krynn could fight that thing. But we might be able to stop it another way. We might be able to affect those who are controlling it.”
“Tell me!” she said, her eyes suddenly bright. “What have you learned?”
Moptop spoke up, looking surprisingly subdued as he addressed the duchess and her captains. “Well, Ankhar has that creepy witch-doctor with him, and also a Thorn Knight—you know, one of the Gray Robes. They are all moving around together and making all the decisions about this army, and this monster—Ankhar called it ‘the king.’ ”
“The king? Of what?” one of the knights spoke up.
“I’m not sure,” Jaymes replied. “But I think it springs from far underneath the ground. It embodies many of the fundamental elements, and seems to be a kind of king of elementals.”
“A king? How can we fight a king of elementals?” Brianna asked.
“These three leaders of the enemy army are the controllers of the elemental. They are the key. They are moving about recklessly and are not themselves very well protected. They have a small bodyguard, according to the kender, and have remained well to the rear of the front line. But if we could get close enough to them …” Jaymes said. “I propose we try to strike them down. Their deaths cannot help but throw the enemy army into disarray, and I believe it may disrupt their control over the monster.”
“Assassinate them!” exclaimed Lord Harbor, frowning. “It is dishonorable!”
Jaymes quickly glared the man into silence.
“How could you get to them?” asked Brianna.
“The same way I found them—underground!” Moptop retorted.
“How do you know this?” demanded Lord Harbor. “And why should we trust the word of a kender?”
“I trust him,” Brianna said sternly. Her tone softened as she looked at Moptop, her smile briefly flickering. “Still, I, too, would like to know how you came by this information, little one, and how you think you might be able to find these three behind enemy lines”
“I found them before—through the sewers! I was mapping the sewers—that’s what I do, usually. I’m a pathfinder extraordinaire. The White Wizard calls me that! And I was going along under the city, and I saw the giant go by, and then the ogres, and then came Ankhar and his friends. So I just listened real hard while they were talking. Kind of like a spy. A very brave spy who laughs in the face of danger. Ha!”
“I believe you are a brave spy,” the duchess said. “And I believe you are very good at finding things. I’m impressed with your boldness and would like to try your plan.”
The kender glowed, nodding his head and looking around at the other men in the room, daring them to contradict the duchess. Most of them, unfortunately, were looking at their feet.
The duchess raised her eyes, looking at Jaymes speculatively. “How do you suggest we proceed?”
“First, your forces must stand firm against the enemy army; any success against the giant will mean nothing if Ankhar’s troops are running amok in the city. The inn here is a strong point, and there are others around the periphery of the plaza. The first column of ogres is already heading down the avenue toward the palace, but there’s a good captain rallying some knights. They’ll try to hold them at bay. I just saw a small party of knights ride out to hold a side street. You need to keep up that kind of pressure on
the enemy army while we try something to take away their chief threat—this elemental king.”
Jaymes turned back to the kender. “I want you to lead a small party through those sewers. We might be able to take Ankhar and his entourage by surprise if we can come up out of the ground, behind his lines, without warning. I’ll strike down the Thorn Knight first, he’s a magic-user and needs to be dealt with. Then let’s go after the half-giant and the witch-doctor, they’ll be trickier. It’s likely we will be able to disrupt their leadership and disperse the attack, and it’s even possible that we can turn back the elemental king.”
“How do you propose to do that—oh, never mind,” Brianna replied, nodding decisively. “I agree. Time is short, and the risk is worth taking.” She turned to one of her officers. “Sir Michael, what’s the latest word on the whereabouts of the elemental?”
“North of the Duke’s Avenue, the report came just moments ago. It’s wrecking the manors of many of the mercantile nobles, after going through a block of laborers’ houses.”
“And moving east from there, Your Grace,” added a young knight—it was Sir Maxwell, the only one present clad in the garb of the Kingfisher instead of the Sword. He held up a small disk that looked like a compass. “I was able to place an enchantment upon him. It has limited value, I’m afraid, allowing me to track his position with this.”
“That might prove very useful. Now it’s time to go,” Brianna declared. She picked up a pair of gauntlets and slid her delicate hands into the metal gloves. She looked at Jaymes with a glint of challenge in her eye. “I’m coming with you.”
“But, Your Grace!” objected Sir Michael. “I won’t allow it! The risks are far too great!” His words were swiftly echoed by the other knights who were gathered around the table.
“Do not forget, sir, I command here!” she replied tersely.
“I won’t allow it either,” Jaymes said. “You’re needed here.”
Brianna’s cheeks flushed, but her tone was icy. “You presume to—”
“I presume to understand how important you are to this city. The people need you. They need to see you, rally around you. If we can strike down the commanders of this army, we will have a chance to win! It would be foolish for you to risk your life with us—”
“On a wild-ass, insane gamble that has a miniscule chance of success!” Sir Michael completed. He glared at Brianna then shifted his attention to Jaymes. “However, I must insist on coming along with you, my lord,” he said in a more level tone.
“Naturally,” Jaymes agreed, nodding his head and almost cracking a smile.
“I acquiesce,” the duchess snapped. “Let all who are here understand that I do so, unwillingly and reluctantly. But, please Jaymes, take a few more men with you.”
“I’d like to come,” said the Kingfisher eagerly. His eyes were wide, but his voice was confident.
“Good. We could use a wizard to hunt a wizard,” Jaymes agreed.
A chorus of others, virtually all the men in the hall, quickly offered their services to the risky mission. Sir Michael quickly pointed to the Kingfisher and two other burly swordsmen. “That makes five men … and er, a kender,” he appended, as Moptop tugged anxiously on his sleeve. “Is that enough?”
Jaymes nodded. “It’ll have to be. Where do you suggest we start from?”
“My temple is just this side of the palace. We can climb the steeple there and try to get our bearings. From there we should be able to spot these three leaders,” said Maxwell.
“Lead the way,” said the duchess. She stared challengingly at Jaymes and Michael. “I daresay you won’t forbid me to come along that far, will you?” she challenged.
With a shrug, the lord marshal started for the door, and the rest quickly followed him.
“I can have a ton of it here by tomorrow morning, if the price is right,” said Rogard Smashfinger, master forger of Kaolyn. He stroked his blunt fingers through his gray beard, and waited for Dram Feldspar to reply, his expression guarded
The pair were meeting at a table in a clearing of the New Compound. All around them, chimneys smoked, axes thunked, and dwarves bustled about to build the new town in the Garnet range. Even as the town took shape all around them, work progressed on manufacturing more of the black powder, and a new, even stronger bombardment device.
Immediately upon his arrival here, Dram had sent word to his old homeland of Kaolyn—the dwarf kingdom underneath the highest mountains of the range—and he was pleased to see that Rogard Smashfinger personally had come to talk some business.
The two mountain dwarves were old acquaintances, and Dram knew that the smith could be trusted but would demand an exorbitant price. But the steel forged in that mountain dwarf kingdom was without peer, so Dram didn’t hesitate to reach down to the floor and lift up a small sack of jewels he had prepared for just this moment. He raised it to the table, upended it, and watched with satisfaction as Rogard’s eyes grew wide.
“That’s for the first ton, and a comparable sum will be set aside for every ton that follows. And just this season alone, I’ll need at least ten tons, as soon as possible.”
Rogard reached into the sack and picked up several stones for inspection—a mixture of rubies, emeralds, and diamonds. He held them, one by one, up to the sun. He squinted suspiciously, muttering to himself as he appraised the stones. His tongue emerged from between his teeth as he beheld a particularly splendid emerald, and he couldn’t help but lick his lips again as he scrutinized the largest stone, a diamond.
“Aye,” he said grouchily. “I suppose these’ll do.” He scooped the gems into the sack and was about to tuck the bag into his pocket when Dram plucked it out of his hand, grinning.
“Tomorrow morning, then?” he said, chuckling. “You can take this away with you when I have the Kaolyn steel.”
“All right!” Rogard huffed. He had, of course, expected nothing less from such a tough businessman as Dram. “Just let me have another look.”
“Be my guest,” Dram offered, watching as the master forger carefully counted out the stones and once more hefted the bag, feeling its reassuring weight.
“We have a deal, then?” Rogard said, handing the sack back to Dram.
“Let’s make it official. Sally!” he called.
His wife scrambled up from the nearby stream bank. Her face was smudged, her hands and apron covered with fish scales and guts—she had been helping to clean the catch for this evening’s supper.
“How about a couple of cold tankards to close this deal between old friends?” Dram asked breezily.
“Get your own damn tankards!” she snapped. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”
Dram blinked in surprise then looked at Rogard sheepishly. “That’s what I get for marrying a hill dwarf,” he admitted with a pang in his heart, making a joke of it even as he watched her stomp back to the stream.
“Let’s have a drink when I bring the steel down,” Rogard said diplomatically, rising to his feet. “I’d better get moving. Tomorrow morning it is!”
The steeple of the temple, a shrine dedicated to Kiri-Jolith, gave them a chance to look over much of the western half of the city. They could see violent skirmishes raging in the street below as a line of knights stood behind a makeshift barricade of wagons and upturned tables removed from a nearby inn. The men were armed with swords and shields and fought valiantly against a press of goblins that had surged up against the obstacle.
Howling and jeering, the attackers pressed between the planks, crawled under the wagons, and thrust spears and swords at the knights. But the men gave better than they got, cutting down the few gobs who pushed through the barricade, chopping at the hands and heads of those enemy warriors thronging on the other side. Their discipline was admirable and for the time being, that particular group of attackers was stymied.
Things were worse down the adjacent street, they could see, where a platoon of ogres lumbered toward the palace, chasing the last survivors of a collapsed position. One knigh
t, on foot, stood in the path of the attackers. He cut down the first ogre with a lightning-quick slash of his two-handed sword, and crippled two more with swift stabs at their legs. Even as the brutes tumbled, bellowing in agony, he was borne down by a trio of the hulking warriors, each smashing him with a crude axe until the remains were bloody.
Before the ogres could regroup, however, three mounted knights charged in from a side street. They rode in a line abreast, blocking any further advance. The horses kicked out, driving several ogres back, and the knights bore home their attack, holding their tenuous position and slowly pushing the ogres away from the palace.
“There!” cried Sir Maxwell, examining his magical compass. “Look to the north, past the armory!”
The elemental king came into view a few blocks away, striding out from behind the tall, square fortress. The giant reached out to smash down a three-story stone building, crushing the roof with a hammer blow, then pummeling the rest of the sturdy structure into rubble. Flames surged from its eyes, and immediately the interior of the broken building erupted into a conflagration. Black smoke billowed skyward, forming another of the pyres that already burned in a dozen places around the city. Stepping through the inferno, the elemental king crossed to the next block and began smashing a warehouse.
“Ankhar won’t be very far away, if the kender’s report is accurate,” Jaymes noted.
“It is!” protested Moptop.
“There’s the half-giant!” Brianna said, pointing toward the Duke’s Avenue, the wide street where goblins were hurling themselves against the barricade.
Now they could clearly see Ankhar swaggering along, several hundred yards behind the skirmishing. He was accompanied by several humans in black armor—former Dark Knights—as well as by the gray-robed Thorn Knight and the huddled, decrepit figure of the old witch-doctor. They were several blocks away from the temple, in a section of the city where all the human defenders had apparently been slain or driven out.
With his fists planted on his hips, the half-giant commander looked first toward the line of battle and the palace. Then his head quickly swiveled to the north. “He’s searching for the elemental,” Brianna guessed. The other men murmured agreement.