Despite the loss of an eye, the enemy soldier skillfully managed to maneuver himself into a position that gave him the advantage of slightly higher ground. Undeterred, Keira continued to strike furiously at him with both blades, shredding his armor and drenching his body in his own blood. But even this did nothing to slow him. He was by far the toughest ‘silent one’ she had yet encountered.
I will not be laid low by this mindless beast, she told herself, her mind seeking a new tactic. One quickly formed. Her focus sharpened and she crouched low, legs close together.
Taking this as a sign of her fatigue, the Imperial reached for a dagger with his free hand and moved in for the kill. In response, Keira rolled forward in a somersault with all the speed she could muster. Pain shot through her back as enemy steel dug in. Ignoring this, she stabbed down hard with both of her long knives, their points penetrating through the soldier’s booted feet and effectively pinning him into place.
The pain in her back was intense, and already she could feel the blood flowing. But there was no time for hesitation. Somehow she managed to squeeze herself through her opponent’s narrowly spread legs and scramble clear just as another blow descended that would have surely ended her life. The soldier jerked violently to free his immobilized feet. It was too late. Keira had already produced a small throwing knife. With a cry of triumph, she rose up on her toes to shove the blade firmly into the back of the silent one’s neck, neatly severing his spinal cord.
From the corner of her eye she caught movement to her right. Shoving the paralyzed and dying man aside, she pulled her blades free and spun to face new enemies. However, to her relief, she saw six elves and two humans running full tilt to her aid.
“The lines have reformed,” a tall elf told her when drawing close. “But how long they will hold, I don’t know.”
One of the humans immediately began examining her wounds. Keira instinctively pulled away, reluctant to allow a human to treat her.
“He knows what he is doing,” the elf assured her. “You should let him help you.”
Now feeling foolish for resisting, she allowed the man to strip away her armor and shirt. She couldn’t help but notice that he did not display the embarrassed look she usually saw in humans when encountering an elf’s lack of modesty. Rather, he simply removed a pouch from his belt and began expertly cleaning and dressing the deep gash on her back.
From her limited vantage point, it did indeed appear that the lines had reformed. But with so many combatants over such a large area, it was impossible to gauge the entirety of the battle. “Is there any word from King Halvar?” she asked, wincing as the human applied a thick salve.
“I’m afraid not,” he replied. “But I doubt they are faring any better than we. This enemy is like nothing I’ve ever heard of. What manner of people are they?”
“They serve Shinzan,” she told him. “And they can bleed and die. That is all I care to know about them.”
The fact that the silent ones had been corrupted through the power of the Emperor was not widely known. Which was just as well. Were it to be common knowledge, that could weaken their fighters’ resolve even more than it had been already.
“Your fighting is done for today,” the human said. “We need to get you over to the wagons where I can treat you properly.”
The tall elf nearby gave a thin smile. “If you can get her to stop fighting, then you must truly possess powers beyond that of any mage.”
Keira placed a hand on the human’s shoulder. “Thank you for your help, but I cannot leave. All the same, I think you are right. My fighting is done for now.”
“If only the mages were here,” remarked the human. “The battle would be over by now.”
Keira had also been hoping for Lylinora’s return. So far there was no sign of her – or of Kat and Ethan. “They cannot fight the war for us,” she said. “This victory must be ours.”
“I suppose,” he agreed. “But I wish they were here anyway.”
So do I, she admitted silently.
The loud clashing of swords and strident battle cries, for a brief spell almost unnoticed by Keira, now crept back to the fore. Only a hundred feet or so ahead she could see the vanguard of the two armies surging back and forth as they fought for supremacy. She waited until her wounds were fully bandaged before donning her armor once again and struggling to her feet. Thanks to the salve, the pain had already been reduced to a dull thudding pulse.
After ordering all but the human medic and two elves to return to their company, she made her way toward where she knew King Halvar still fought. Reports of the center’s collapse had reached her, and she was fearful as to what she might find.
As they neared the center, they could see the full extent of the chaos. Dozens of small skirmishes stretched out for at least one hundred yards beyond the rear echelon. Her escort immediately placed themselves in front of her, forcing her back.
Keira’s eyes searched for any sign of King Halvar, but to no avail. “Send word that they need help,” she commanded.
“We cannot leave you here,” said the elf directly in front of her.
She tried to force her way through, but all three turned to hold her fast.
“Please don’t make us carry you,” the elf said, nodding in the opposite direction.
Keira glared, but very quickly could see there would be no weakening of their resolve. Even the human looked back at her defiantly, his eyes telling her that she was going nowhere her escort did not wish her to. After letting out an infuriated yell, she spun on her heels and resumed walking in the direction required.
They had covered only a few yards when a deep echoing roar easily overcame the relentless clatter of the battle. It was a sound wonderfully familiar to Keira. She halted, a hopeful expression rapidly forming. Her eyes shifted skyward, searching eagerly for the source.
A second roar, this one far louder, descended like a thunderclap upon the field. Even the silent ones paused fighting briefly. For an eerie moment, the battlefield became almost totally quiet. From the north, Keira then spotted a plume of vivid red flames heralding the majestic arrival of a dragon. Maytra had come. And riding upon her back was Kat.
“Praise the spirits,” Keira whispered.
Tears sprang involuntarily to her eyes, and she very nearly lost her balance. Cheers spontaneously erupted from their ranks, though this did nothing to halt the Imperial soldiers resuming their attack. Within seconds the battles along the lines, as well as numerous skirmishes at the flanks, were all in full flow again.
Her escort ushered her along, and this time she did not resist. The efforts to force her way past them a few seconds earlier had caused renewed bleeding from her wound, prompting the human healer to now insist that she be removed to the wagons.
Keira closed her eyes and listened as another trumpeting call came down from Maytra. A weak smile formed. “I am at your mercy. I will comply, huma…”
She stopped herself just before completing the final word. “No, tell me,” she said. “What is your name?”
“Vernard,” he replied.
She bowed her head. “I will comply, Vernard.”
Though still deeply concerned about the fate of King Halvar, she allowed herself to feel at least a small portion of satisfaction. Even a single mage would be of tremendous help. Enough to possibly snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. But together with an enraged dragon…only Shinzan himself could stand against them both.
* * * * *
King Halvar’s axe took the head of his first foe before the man even knew there was someone upon him. With his rage continuing to drive him forward, he cleaved his way through two more before a large section of the enemy finally turned and forced him to slow his charge.
He and his guard had thrown themselves directly into the center of the ever-widening breach. Though well aware that a force as small as theirs was unlikely to be able to close it on their own, he nevertheless hoped their unexpected assault would at least give the others fr
om the shattered line sufficient time to recover and form an organized counter attack.
He could see the members of his guard slashing and hacking with furious abandon every bit equal to his own. Had they been fighting normal humans, Halvar had no doubt that their foe would have already fled in the face of such wrath. But as their skill and lack of any fear was displaying, these enemy soldiers were far from being normal humans. Much to Halvar’s dismay, in the course of just a few minutes he and his men found themselves switching from all-out attack to desperately defending.
Calls of The king fights with us! and ‘Hail, King Halvar! began springing up from all around. For a dark moment, he regretted throwing himself into the fray so thoughtlessly. Many of his subjects would surely ignore their own safety in order to protect him. For a short time, this dire thought persisted, but something else also quickly became evident. His presence in the thick of things was inspiring every dwarf on the field to fight with renewed vigor and heart. Before he knew it, the hoped for counter attack was actually happening. The breach was beginning to close.
A dwarf to his right grunted with pain and dropped his weapon as the tip of a sword pierced deeply into his leg. Stepping around the wounded man, Halvar swung his axe hard down onto the flat of the offending Imperial steel, shattering it instantly. Barely had he finished off the disarmed soldier when another Imperial to his left rushed forward, thrusting his blade low. Halvar twisted sharply away, in doing so narrowly avoiding being skewered, but at the same time leaving himself temporarily off-balance and wide open. Seizing this opportunity, the hollow-eyed silent one smashed his gauntleted fist into the king’s brow, sending him staggering back and down onto his knees. With cold deliberation, the Imperial closed in to finish things.
Seeing his king in peril, the injured and temporarily weaponless dwarf quickly dove forward to wrap restraining arms around the soldier’s waist. It was brave, but provided only the briefest of respites for Halvar. A short but vicious pommel strike to the back of the dwarf’s head soon loosened his hold. This was very rapidly followed up by a sharp boot to the chest that sent him reeling.
Halvar was trying hard to focus, though the punch had severely blurred his vision. He backed away, swinging his axe frantically in wide sweeps in an attempt to stave off death long enough to regain his sight. All he could make out at present was the foggy silhouette of his would-be killer moving steadily closer. Too close now, in fact. He couldn’t risk waiting any longer. In a desperate gamble, he heaved his heavy axe at the advancing shadow. The deep thump that followed told him that his gamble had paid off. A huge gasp of relief fell from his mouth.
Without his axe, he reached into his belt for a dwarf rod. Using such a weapon in close quarters was dangerous, but for the moment he had no choice. He had to have something with which to protect himself until he could see well enough again to move about freely. Turning continuously in tight little circles with the rod held ready for action, he strained to detect any approaching threat.
After what felt like an eternity of being at his most vulnerable, the images around him began to sharpen. He could see that the breach had now been closed. Even so, there were still dozens of small skirmishes raging between dwarves and those Imperials who had already forced their way through.
He spotted his axe still protruding from the breastplate of his fallen enemy. It had been a perfect throw, striking dead center. He couldn’t help but smile. Pulling the weapon free, he surveyed the battle again. The front line, though holding at present, was still under intense pressure.
Shifting his gaze, he saw the dwarf who had tried to save him from the Imperial soldier staggering in his direction. Blood from a gash on the man’s scalp now soaked his shoulders. His injured leg was also heavily streaked with red. Halvar hurried to aid him.
“Thank the ancestors our dwarf heads are thick, lad,” Halvar said, pulling the dwarf’s arm over his shoulder.
“I’m fine, Your Highness,” he responded unconvincingly, stepping away and using his recovered axe as a crutch instead. “We need to get you away from here.”
Halvar was just about to protest when the sound of a mighty roar carried across the battlefield. He could feel his legs wobble. A second, even louder call then followed. For a brief span, all fighting ceased as everyone on the battlefield turned their attention skyward to search for the source.
Tears of joy sprang from Halvar’s eyes. “Thank you,” he murmured.
The injured dwarf had dropped to his knees and was clinging to the handle of his weapon for support. “Is it…?” he asked, his awed words fading to nothing.
Halvar could make out a small white dot in the vividly blue sky. Such power to be heard so clearly from so far away was incredible. The third call that sounded a few seconds later was accompanied by a stream of fire as the dragon went into a steep dive. Though the fighting around him continued, he could not tear his eyes away from the mighty beast. It was as if hope itself had taken on a living, breathing form.
He wished his sight were as keen as an elf’s. Someone was riding atop the dragon’s back, but he was unable to make out who it was. Not that it really mattered. They had a mage with them now. That was the most important thing. A mage and a dragon together would surely be unbeatable.
“And to think I once despised human magic,” he mused.
“It still frightens me, Your Highness,” the injured dwarf responded. He smiled at his king. “But right now, the Empire frightens me more.”
“Indeed,” agreed Halvar.
Three of his guards approached from the lines. He thought to ask about the rest of them, but already knew the answer and didn’t care to hear the depressing words just yet. He would discover the number of brave dwarves who had died on this day soon enough.
“Are you injured, Your Highness?” asked an older dwarf with a thick red beard.
Halvar touched the lump on his forehead. “No. Not seriously.”
One of the other guards helped his injured companion to his feet. “We must get you to the wagons,” the dwarf told Halvar. “There is nothing more you can do.”
Yet another mighty roar came from the dragon – this one so close and loud that Halvar could feel it resounding inside his chest. He dearly wanted to stay and witness what was about to happen, but the skirmishes were closing in around them. And he realized that his people were sacrificing themselves in order to keep the enemy away from their king’s location.
“Take me away, but to a place where I can still see the field,” he commanded. “I want to watch the enemy burn.”
The red bearded dwarf cast a hate-filled glance over his shoulder at the Imperial ranks. “As do I, Your Highness. As do I.”
Chapter Twelve
Kat surveyed the battlefield below. The Imperial army had pushed their way nearly to the top of the low rise. King Halvar and the others could not possibly know it, but from her lofty position she was able to see that there were still three more massive groups of enemy reinforcements hidden in the forest only a few miles away. Had she not arrived, this would have certainly ended in annihilation.
There was a very good reason why dragons were feared above all other creatures. And an equally good one why the Dragonvein family had become so powerful. She’d heard from Martok’s own lips how he’d used the mighty creatures during his many battles to spread his foes thin. Only a truly powerful mage could ever hope to contend with a dragon, and any army without one was sure to be burned to cinders from above without any hope of escape. As there were no mages at all within the Imperial ranks, this battle would soon be over.
She could see that the allied army’s middle had at some point given way. While the dwarves were doing their best to eliminate those who had penetrated to the rear, it was clear that in a few seconds the line would collapse again. The Imperials were readying themselves for another surge.
Maytra lifted her head slightly to let loose a feral roar. It was odd in a way to see the reaction below, with the furiously battling masses almost
as one, coming to a momentary halt. But it was the most temporary of pauses. Only a few seconds passed before the full force of the battle resumed.
Kat pointed to a spot near to the thinnest part of the vanguard. “There!”
Her command sent Maytra into a steep descent, bellowing flames all the way down. Kat was fully expecting the enemy to scatter, and frowned with surprise when they did not. Instead, she saw all but the very front row of soldiers dropping their swords and unslinging short bows from their backs. She responded with a spell that threw down a tremendous blast of wind, quickly sending most of the rising arrows back the way they had come. The few that did make it up to them did no more than tickle at Maytra’s thick hide.
Another stream of flames shot forth from the dragon’s mouth, igniting flesh and armor in a broad swath of death. Yet even now Kat did not hear the screams of terror she would have expected. No. These Imperials simply died without a sound. They were indeed ‘silent ones’ in every respect.
Maytra landed hard, crushing more than half a dozen men beneath her. The flames she had created were still quite intense, prompting Kat to cast a quick protection spell around herself. Her skin immediately cooled. But even in the face of all this, the enemy was already converging. No fear at all, not even in the face of certain death.
If dragons could smile, Kat was certain that’s what Maytra would be doing right now. Using both her talons and long tail, she rapidly cleared an area twenty yards in diameter of all foes. So precise was she that the only living beings left anywhere within this were the dwarves – every single one of the Imperial soldiers they had been fighting with had been clinically separated and swept clear by her wrath.
Kat leapt to the ground. Maytra swung her great head around and met her gaze with reptilian eyes. “You know what to do,” Kat told her.
The dragon needed no further bidding. Turning, she opened her maw fully wide. The flames that shot out were accompanied by a gigantic roar that had every dwarf nearby frantically clasping their hands over their ears. On and on the deafening sound continued – and along with it the devouring flames that seemed to be drawn from an endlessly burning furnace raging somewhere deep within Maytra’s soul. This was true dragon fury, the likes of which had not been seen on Lumnia in many centuries.
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