by Alon Shalev
“Very good,” Tarlach replied. “General Shiftan, what are your recommendations?”
“We must first attack with the dwarves,” General Shiftan said. “It will be a devastating blow for those inside, who likely built their defenses narrow enough only to impede humans and pictorians. We will try and take the outer defenses with our dwarves. Once we reach bigger caverns, we can send in our men and pictorians.
“I have a few additional surprises, General Tarlach. We have brought explosives – enough to cave in the outer defenses – and a team of dwarves who specialize in this work. Once we have opened up the narrow tunnels, they will feel the full strength of our forces.”
“When shall we attack?”
“The rangers brought back rock samples. Our scientists need to examine them to decide what type and strength of explosive is required. They are doing that now and will pack several explosive packages for us. I suggest we plan to attack at dawn in two days.”
“How much explosives have you brought with you?” General Tarlach asked, intrigued.
Shiftan smiled. “I wanted to ensure we had more than enough. If you prefer, we can just flatten the mountain altogether.”
The tent rang with laughter and, for a few moments, Tarlach could no longer hear the rain pounding on the tent.
TWENTY FIVE
Dwarves bustled around Seanchai, each busy with a task. Everyone but him, that was. He stood in the first cavern, waiting and wishing he had something constructive to do. Ballendir had told Seanchai his friends would meet him there.
He had visited Ellendir earlier, but the healers would not let him help on Ophera’s instruction.
“Conserve and build up your energy,” the priestess had said. “You will need every last bit of it in the coming weeks.”
Seanchai wandered aimlessly and restlessly about the cavern. He ran to help a young dwarf who dropped a barrel full of small, round rocks.
“Not you, sire,” the young dwarf said reverently. “The priestess won’t allow it.”
“Seanchai! Seanchai!”
Seanchai’s annoyance disappeared as his heart leapt. Ilana fell into his arms and he held her tight, inhaling her fragrance. She pulled away from him, blushing. He felt only slightly repentant.
“My name is Rhoddan; I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.” Rhoddan stood there, formally offering a hand.
Seanchai grinned and embraced his friend, both of them laughing. Then he turned to Shayth, who pointed his bow at Seanchai.
“Don’t even think about it,” Shayth threatened, eyes smiling.
Immediately, a number of axes suddenly appeared precariously close to Shayth, not noticing that there was no arrow noched in his bow.
“He’s joking,” Seanchai said, and the axes dropped with a collective sigh of relief. Seanchai couldn’t resist a jab: “Anyway, he’s a lousy aim. He would have missed me from that distance.”
The cavern reverberated with laughter, easing the heavy tension permeating the place.
“Hey. Need I remind you that my aim is true?” said a female voice from behind as Seanchai led them all to the adjacent cavern.
Seanchai turned to see beautiful, dark Sellia, hands on arched hips, and a bump on her head.
His smile vanished. “What happened?”
“We’ll tell you inside,” she said.
“Seems like you’ve made yourself a few friends,” Shayth patted his shoulders. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
But they didn’t get to talk for long, because Ballendir entered with the priestess.
“Welcome, one and all,” he said. “Excuse mah briskness. Seanchai, the priestess wants to take yeh deeper into our home. I will stay and bring yeh friends up-to-date.”
“The priestess?” Shayth’s question expressed the surprise on each of their faces.
“Like I said,” Ballendir grinned. “I’ll bring yeh up-to-date.”
Ophera pointed to Ilana.
“You share a special bond with the Wycaan,” she said softly. “You may join us.”
Seanchai and Ilana followed her through a series of tunnels deeper into the mountain. The priestess walked slowly but surely, leaning on a staff that Seanchai hadn’t ever seen her use before. He wondered if it was ceremonial.
They turned through a narrow corridor into a cave full of raised beds, some occupied. Seanchai saw Ellendir and went to her. Her eyes were open, and she smiled feebly when she saw him. She struggled to raise a hand, and Seanchai gently took it. With considerable effort, she opened her mouth to speak.
“Conserve yeh energy, mah child,” a large, matronly dwarfe said from the other side of the bed. “Yeh want the elf to know that yeh appreciate his healing. I’m sure he knows.”
Seanchai nodded, but this did not appease Ellendir. She shook her head. Seanchai bent over her, and she whispered slowly, forcing each word out.
“Thank . . . yeh . . . for . . . returning . . . the priestess . . . to mah . . . people.”
“You are welcome for that, as well,” Seanchai said. “Be strong, so that you may continue to serve her and your clan.”
Ellendir smiled and breathed easier. The priestess took Seanchai’s arm and gently guided him into the next room. Seanchai gaped – it was an apothecary. He stared at bunches of herbs hanging from the low ceiling, bound and drying. Along one wall was a huge wooden cabinet with hundreds of small drawers. On a large stone table, there were herbs at different stages of preparation and Seanchai picked up a mortar and pestle, thinking of his mother.
“I wish we had time to teach you our ways and plants,” Ophera said. “But I do have something for you.” She turned and called to another elf, who gave her a small leather pouch. “Thank you,” she said, and handed the pouch to Seanchai.
“The herb you drink is known to us. We call it ruzakil, or ‘old dwarf on the mountain’. I saw that your supplies are running low. It does not grow around here, but hopefully you will be able to find some in Hothengold.
“What we do have here is a mushroom that we dry and slice.” She patted the pouch. “Do not let it go to powder, for you must not ingest the mushroom itself, only drink it as a tea. It is called Kombuqua, or ‘old dwarf under the mountain’. It’s similar to ruzakil . . . especially in the taste, I’m afraid.”
“You’re very generous,” Seanchai replied.
“I am very practical. I need you to be at your peak. Come, I have two more surprises for you.”
She took Seanchai and Ilana down a steep staircase that hugged a wall. It was very damp, and Seanchai noticed that there was fungus on the wall glowing red. They used its light to guide their way. At the bottom was a small lake.
“I think you know what to do here,” she said. “You are not the first Wycaan to sense the power under the mountain. This is what drew you here, no?”
Seanchai’s mouth dropped open as he gazed at the lay lake.
“Go into the water,” she said. “We will sit here with our backs to you. It is the most privacy I can offer.”
Seanchai walked to the lake’s edge. He hadn’t felt energy like this since he was in the cavern with Mhari for his transformation. He stripped off his clothes and walked into the freezing water until he was completely submerged. He gave himself up to the water, feeling it flow through his body, relaxing and invigorating him at the same time.
When he came out of the lake, he dried off with his shirt. Even in this simple act, his muscles were stretched and powerful. He touched the skin of his face and found it taut and smooth. As he approached the women, he saw Ilana’s awed expression. He felt good.
As he drew closer, however, he saw her eyes were red. Ophera had an arm around her. Now, as he sat with them, they separated and watched him.
Seanchai looked at the old priestess. “You said other Wycaans have used this pool. Have you seen them yourself?”
“I am very old,” she said, nodding. “Older than I look, I hope.”
“Who were they? Were they elves, dwarves, humans?”<
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“I met your Master,” she said. “A beautiful woman in her youth. I grieve for her and your loss. But the one I remember most dearly was my mate for a short while. He was badly wounded and feared to be taken alive by the Emperor at the time. If he is still alive, I do not know. It is difficult being the mate of a Wycaan.” She patted Ilana’s hand.
“Is that what you were talking about? Is that why Ilana was crying?”
“So many questions. Can two females not bond? Ah, we have so little time. This is my third and final gift to you.”
She reached under her cloak and produced another leather pouch. From it, she carefully spilled out several stones onto her lap. “We dwarves wield our energy through stones. These are mine. Now, Wycaan, I give them to you. That is, all but one.”
“I can’t take them. Especially not now.”
“I plan to collapse the mountain, Seanchai, once the general’s army is inside. I will be under it, as I have been for most of my life. Ellendir will take my place, and she already has her stones. I have planned a way for her to live, but I will not share it, so don’t ask. Please,” she raised a hand to stem his attempted objections, “there is no time, and I am content with my decision.
“You will learn the power of these rocks in due time. But these are a pair.” She gave one smooth, green stone to Ilana and the other to Seanchai. “Guard these well. No Wycaan and his mate have ever been able to stay together in times of strife. Their stories are full of romance, but often have tragic endings, I’m sorry to say.”
“What do these stones do?” Ilana asked.
“When you are separated, even at opposite ends of Odessiya, the stones will help you find each other.”
“Thank you,” Ilana said and hugged her.
“Thank you,” Seanchai echoed. “How do they work?”
The old priestess raised her head from Ilana’s shoulder. “I don’t know. I’ve never used them.”
“What?” said Ilana. “If you were the mate of this Wycaan dwarf–”
“He made me swear not to use them to find him.”
“Why?” Seanchai asked.
Ophera gazed at him for a moment, pained, and then sighed. “Because he truly loved me.”
TWENTY SIX
The first wave attacked at dawn. The horn of Zu’Reisin was blown, its long, deep notes reverberated through the tunnels. The battle of Bordan had begun.
Seanchai leaped from his bedding, quickly packed his bags, and swung his dual sword harness around his body in one smooth, well-practiced movement. Next to him, Ilana and Shayth were similarly preparing.
Rhoddan and Sellia were sleeping with an advance unit at the perimeter where the guards rotated. Maugwen had left with the families and elderly dwarves. She had been reluctant to leave, but Rhoddan was adamant that she would be of little use in a fight and might endanger the rest of the company when they retreated. Speed and endurance was their only chance for survival.
Seanchai worried about his own usefulness fighting in these narrow tunnels. He was trained to swing his swords, which required space.
Ballendir stood in the corridor outside their cave, barking orders and directing dwarves to various positions. He watched Ilana and Shayth run past him.
“Where’s the other human? Where’s the ranger lad?” he asked.
“I let him go,” Seanchai replied.
Ballendir shook his head in disbelief. “Why?”
“I won’t force Jermona to fight with us. It would make us no better than the Emperor, conscripting and forcing people to fight their neighbors. I don’t want him in a position where he has to choose sides.
“If he is telling the truth, then he will flee to his ranger village. If he is a spy, as you all think, then he will be where we can see him.”
“And then yeh can kill him?”
Seanchai nodded.
“I’m glad to know that,” Ballendir said and smiled. But then his grin disappeared. “Seanchai, yeh’ll need to be ruthless. This is going to be close-contact fighting: slashing and stabbing. Do yeh understand? Yeh have knives, no? Let mah see them.”
Seanchai showed Ballendir his long and short elf knives. It had been a while since he had used them, but Rhoddan had made him constantly sharpen them. He took a deep breath. “Let’s go. Your people should see us at the helm.”
“Seanchai,” Ballendir squeezed his arm. “Ma people need to see yah as a leader in battle. Be loud, yeh understand? They will follow yah, as will I.”
The first to come were broad, stocky dwarves, covered with chain metal and bearing the red and black of the Emperor. Resistance archers, including Shayth and Sellia, cut them down from above as they filed through the narrow gorge to the cave entrance. When the archers’ arrows were exhausted, they hurled rocks down with surprising accuracy. Seanchai watched, yelling encouragement, as the remaining troops in the first wave retreated.
They were quickly replaced by a second wave holding their shields above their heads in a solid, interlacing cover. Arrows and rocks alike were ineffective and bounced off the shields. The larger rocks knocked several soldiers to their knees, creating a hole for the archers’ arrows, but it wasn’t enough.
Seanchai watched, knowing that this group would reach their ground troops. He turned to send a messenger to Ballendir and saw several soldiers surreptitiously scaling up the side of the mountain. Two were already on the ridge preparing to spring on the archers.
“Shayth!” he cried. “Draw your sword. We must hold this ridge as long as possible.”
As he was out in the open, Seanchai drew his swords and charged with Shayth only a few paces behind him. They threw the first few soldiers off the ledge and engaged two pictorians who had scrambled up the steep incline onto the plateau. Seanchai ducked under one’s massive broadsword and stabbed the huge creature in the side between his armor plating.
As he pushed the giant over the rock face, Seanchai gasped. The whole mountainside was a mass of human and pictorian soldiers.
“Sellia,” he yelled. “Get them back. No, get them over here with whatever rocks are left.”
The dwarves scurried over and threw the remaining rocks onto the soldiers climbing. It would buy only a little more time. Another horn blew and a dwarf grabbed Seanchai’s arm.
“We must go back. They want to close the gates.”
Seanchai turned and called out. “Follow me to the entrance.” Then he grabbed the dwarf who had just spoken to him. “Do you know the best way?”
The dwarf nodded tersely and set off with Seanchai close behind. Seanchai glanced back as Sellia and Shayth shot their remaining arrows at the soldiers climbing the ridge.
As they approached the entrance back into the mountain, they encountered enemy dwarves and humans who had lowered their shields to advance.
“Archers!” Seanchai cried.
A dozen dwarves pushed to the front and brought down several rows of the enemy before their supplies of arrows were exhausted.
“Axes!” They pulled their bows over their shoulders and drew their axes.
“With me,” Seanchai commanded, and raised his swords. Battle cries left their lips as they charged into the thick.
The soldiers, now surrounded, fell quickly and Seanchai led his troops back into the mountain.
Once behind the gate, clanking chains quickly lowered the heavy iron grate. Several dwarves pulled levers on both sides, releasing huge rocks that rolled down on either side of the gate to reinforce it.
Seanchai helped escort two wounded dwarves inside and passed them to the care of the healers. Ilana, Ballendir, and Rothendir joined Seanchai, Shayth, and Sellia.
“How did yeh fare?” Ballendir asked.
“We couldn’t hold as long as we’d hoped,” Seanchai replied, panting for breath. “There must be thousands swarming the mountainside.”
“How did yeh fight?” Ballendir asked.
“It was all out in the open.”
“He was very authoritative,” Sellia said. “What
’s in that mushroom tea you’ve been giving him?”
They all laughed and Ballendir gave Seanchai an approving nod.
“The dwarves on the opposing side?” They all turned when Ophera spoke from behind them. “Was there any remorse or hesitation in their fighting?”
“No,” said the soldier who had guided them in from outside. “They were disciplined and determined soldiers of the Empire. They did all that was expected of them.”
“There are many out there,” Sellia said. “I don’t know how long we can hold.”
“Just a little longer,” the priestess answered. “We must give those who evacuated a little more time.”
“Let them come!” someone cried. “It doesn’t matter how many they are. They have many obstacles to break through and even then, they can only come one dwarf at a time!”
The dwarves raised their axes and cheered. But a large explosion sent many to the ground. A second explosion was quickly followed by a third. Dust and sunlight beamed through the reinforcements around the gate.
Shayth looked at the priestess and smiled grimly. “Exactly how much time do you need?”
TWENTY SEVEN
Ophera didn’t flinch. She turned to Ballendir, who looked just as shocked as everyone else.
“Back to the second hall.” When he didn’t respond, she slapped Ballendir’s arm to jar him out of his daze. “Call them back to the second hall.” She turned to grab Ilana’s shoulder and addressed her more gently. “Help me back, Ilana.”
By this time, Ballendir had come out of his stupor and was barking orders, keeping archers up on rock ledges as the last line of defense while the rest of the clan retreated. He called to Seanchai.
“Get back, elf. We need to keep you safe.”
Seanchai frowned.
“He’s not very good at leaving friends behind,” Rhoddan said from his other side, a wry smile on his face.
“It’s incredibly annoying,” Shayth said, drawing his own bow. “Get used to it.”