by Jim Galford
The men grinned almost in unison, any affront forgotten. “Our land has been ready for war for nearly a century,” one of them replied quickly. “We did not anticipate the undead marching, but we are more than ready, wildling. My mother’s line would see shame in me if I were not prepared to stand against an enemy greater than myself. We will die honorably.”
The elves did not wait for any further cues from Greth, turning immediately and running to the main group of former slaves. Within seconds, the mob began to part, sending groups toward all of the stairs onto the walls, while a small contingent positioned themselves near the wagons, ready just in case the gate fell.
A distant rumble drew Raeln’s attention to the eastern arc of the wall, where smoke rose from part of the battlements. As he watched, a ball of fire erupted a little farther down the wall, engulfing many of the defenders there. The undead had plenty more spellcasters out there, and they were not being shy about pushing their attack.
Greth took off running, heading for the nearest stairs.
Eyeing the wall, Raeln decided there was no time to waste running all the way to the steps. He picked up a sword lying near several of the dismembered zombie corpses, hopped up onto the overturned wagon on one side of the gate, and began climbing up the wall. Within a minute, he was atop the high stone wall, overlooking the main force of the undead at the city’s front gate.
Raeln had not realized how bad things had gotten from the limited view he had on the ground. Down there, he had seen the huge force marching on the gate, filling the outer city’s streets. From atop the wall, he could see they had filled the outer city, and the largest of the undead—mostly ogre corpses from what he could see—were ripping down the buildings starting at the outer edge of the city and working inwards. Another group of undead was dragging bodies out down the streets toward the outskirts of town, where they likely would be added to their army.
Far beyond the last of the undead he could see, the quarry stood out against the plains with its swirling black cloud at its middle. Past it, Raeln could make out another group of undead approaching, though they were going wide around the quarry, taking a long route toward Lantonne to avoid getting too close.
“Bout time you got up here, boy,” shouted Phillith, coming toward Raeln from a little ways down the wall. The man limped slightly and had his left arm in a sling stained with blood. “Good work with their wizard. Until they move another one to this part of the wall, we just have the stumblers to deal with, and I don’t think they know what they’re doing.”
Raeln leaned over the edge of the wall, looking down about twenty feet to the zombies clawing at the stones and crawling over one another in an attempt to reach him and the other defenders. The pile of squirming dead continued to grow as he watched, slowly making its way up the wall at the expense of those at the bottom.
“Right about now,” Phillith added, shaking his head sadly, “it’s going to take an act of some god to save us. I don’t even care which one. I think I’d sacrifice my cousins on an altar if it got us some help.”
Around them, the former slaves began taking up positions all along the wall, falling in beside trained soldiers and regular citizens that had joined the fight. Raeln saw a few hard glares exchanged, especially between the better-dressed Lantonnians and the more battered former slaves. There were no harsh words spoken, with former enemies willingly taking a stand at one another’s sides. In more than one place, he even saw men in Altisian clothing that had the demeanor of former soldiers working beside Lantonnian soldiers. If the city was to fall, he could not imagine a better way for it to go.
A distant roar drew Raeln’s eyes to the west, searching the undead horde there for some indication of what might be happening even as another volley of arrows was launched from the wall into the undead force at the gate. He saw hundreds if not thousands of undead, but the roar seemed entirely out of place. Undead simply did not make enough noise to fit the sound he had heard. Just as he was going to stop searching for its source, he looked up and saw them.
Dragons.
Sweeping in across the plains at high speed, a trio of massive winged creatures flew low across the ground, kicking up plumes of dust in passing. They were more than a mile away from the undead, but they were coming fast toward Lantonne.
“Phillith…” Raeln whispered, his voice lost in the din of battle. He resorted to pawing at the man, trying to get his attention while pointing west with his other hand.
The dragons were coming in faster than Raeln thought possible, charging both the city and the undead at its walls. As he watched, they fanned out, flying in a V-shaped formation straight toward where he stood.
“Speaking of gods,” muttered Phillith, having apparently noticed what Raeln was pointing at. “Are they coming to help, or finish us off? If the old gods are coming down off the mountains to help the undead, then the end of this city will be the thing of legends…assuming anyone lives to tell them.”
“Wait and watch, commander. I’m hoping it’s not that bad.”
Before the archers behind Raeln had fired a third volley, the dragons had changed path and soared over the farthest group of approaching undead. As they reached the zombie soldiers, explosions lit up the horizon as a wizard near that group began firing off bolts of lightning from the ground up into the sky. The dragons broke formation at the first crack of light, each attacking different sections of the army with flames they breathed in brilliant cones of red and blue, burning huge swaths with each pass. After several trips through the undead force, the dragons turned and began their flight toward Lantonne again, this time with a smoking and blackened section of the plains at their backs.
Leaning on the battlements with his good arm, Phillith’s face was slack with awe as he watched the dragons approach. Half-hearted cheers began erupting around them, though Raeln knew they were unsure if things had suddenly gotten worse or better.
“Even if they attack us, too,” Phillith began, smiling over at Raeln and laughing himself nearly to tears, “I never thought I’d live to see old gods come back to the world. My papa would have given anything to hear this tale, even if he thought I was lying.”
The dragons came straight toward the city, turning slightly to avoid the column of black roiling near the quarry. As they moved to avoid it, Raeln realized the cloud was actually moving, reaching out with tendrils of darkness. Seconds later, a group of shadowy bat-like creatures flew from the darkness and chased after the dragons.
The three dragons parted as soon as the shadow-creatures appeared, two continuing toward the city while the third tucked its wings and banked through and past the creatures. The entire pack of smaller shadows chased the solo dragon, as did the cloud that absorbed the light, trailing long strands of thick shadows that tried to grab the dragon right out of the air. Wherever the dragon turned and spun in the air, the shadows pursued. After several high-speed circles around the cloud, the dragon flapped its wings and took off toward Lantonne again, trailing its pursuers but having put a great deal of distance between them and its companion dragons.
The lead two dragons continued toward Raeln and the city, details of their shape soon coming into view as they sped closer to the outskirts of Lantonne. They were huge beyond imagining, the closest large enough that its wings cast shadows across entire blocks of the outer city. Scales of differing shades caught the light, sparkling in places and giving the impression they wore armor of polished metal. The lead dragon was mostly a deep forest green, a paler section of green running down its chest, while its long horns contrasted the scales with an almost bone-white hue. The second dragon was even larger than the leader, though its scales had a reddish coloring, a faint hint of green among them. Like the lead dragon, that one’s skin was dotted with bone-white horns. The farthest dragon was well beyond Raeln’s ability to see detail, but he got the impression of a more brilliant red from the sunlight glinting off of it.
A moment later, the closest of the dragons roared past the walls of
Lantonne, the wind from its passing throwing Raeln onto his back and Phillith clinging to the battlements to stay upright. The entire section of the wall was buffeted, knocking dozens of people to the ground and ripping the shutters off of buildings nearest the wall.
As Raeln lay on his back staring up at the large creature flying past, he got a better view of the dragon’s four legs…and specifically, the claws nearly as large as he was. A palpable wave of tingling panic rolled over him and was gone with the dragon as it headed into the heart of the city toward the tower, almost as though the dragon’s very presence pushed his mind to utter terror regardless of the awe he felt at watching the creature. The second dragon passed over nearly touching the tip of the first one’s tail, a similar feeling of dread and panic wheedling its way into Raeln’s chest until the dragon was well past him.
Raeln sat up once the second dragon had gone by, just in time for the third dragon to reach the walls. This one did not follow its companions but instead slowed until it hovered over the undead army, the incredible force of air rushing from its wings knocking most of the zombies to the ground. Before the undead could recover, the dragon unleashed another torrent of flame, burning many of the corpses to ash where they lay and drawing a nervous cheer from the defenders on the wall.
Close behind the dragon, the wall of black smoke from the quarry followed, though its speed had lessened as it got farther from its source. Even the black shadowy creatures that had come from it returned to the quarry, unwilling or unable to continue their pursuit. The dragon seemed to notice this as well, looking to the quarry after it finished burning the undead army. This dragon raced over the wall toward the southern gates, where Raeln saw it land among the buildings and disappear behind the keep.
Raeln tapped his forehead on the battlement stones, offering up a quick prayer to the old gods, though the words felt so insignificant after seeing the actual creature up close. Whether these were gods or not, they had already done more than he could have dreamed of and had earned a prayer of thanks.
Around him, he heard others offering up similar thanks to the gods, old and new. Nearly everyone joined in hurried prayers except Phillith, who was watching the direction the dragons had gone, and an orc soldier, who was on his knees several feet down the wall clutching his head. The rest looked terrified but happy the dragons had gone past without attacking them as well.
His face crinkled with both age and contemplation, Phillith finally asked, “Why did they go to the keep? Think maybe the magisters called them? The fight’s out here, not in there.”
Raeln glanced over his shoulder at the tower, where he could see neither of the dragons that had flown in that direction. It was as though they had vanished. “I’ve been in the keep a few times in the last few months and haven’t seen the magisters at all,” he admitted, keeping his voice low to prevent others from hearing. “I don’t even know if they’re helping anymore. I’m willing to bet there’s fight enough inside there.”
“Lovely. We’ve got old gods and no wizards. This can’t end well,” the commander muttered, then limped toward a group of soldiers that had stopped firing on the enemy below to watch the dragons. “Yeah, they’re dragons, you idiots! You thought I’d trust this city to the likes of you? Keep firing!”
Raeln checked the other parts of the wall, looking for where he could be of the most help. Most of the defenders were accompanied by one or more soldiers, helping either with their weapons or picking targets. Farther down past the gate, he spotted Greth walking along behind one of the groups of former slaves, shouting orders at them that they appeared to be obeying. It seemed to amuse Greth to no end to be bossing about furless, specifically.
Turning to head the other way up the wall and lend a hand to the few defenders in an area that had been badly damaged by the Turessian girl, Raeln stopped to help the orcish man still clutching his head. All around him, the other soldiers and townsfolk continued to fire down at the undead, letting the orc deal with his own issues.
As he approached, Raeln could see the man was powerfully built, with arms that looked strong enough to break stones easily. Even his attire spoke of service in someone’s military—Raeln could not be sure whose, as the man wore some form of fitted robe under a suit of heavily reinforced, layered black leather armor that was of no style he was familiar with. The man was weaponless, but scars across the visible sections of his green skin spoke of many battles in the past. He groaned and covered his face, clasping his hands to his temples.
“Are you alright?” Raeln asked, kneeling beside him. “Show me your wounds.”
“I have no wounds,” answered the man, shying away from Raeln’s touch. “The noise…I can barely hear. There are too many…”
Raeln perked his ears and listened to the relatively quiet attack by the undead. Without any need for shouting orders to one another, they made little more than a steady groan and rustling of their movement. Even the defenders were mostly silent, concentrating on firing arrows into the enemy below.
“I’ve seen duels that made more noise than this,” noted Raeln, then grabbed the orc’s arm despite efforts to avoid being touched. He tried to pull the man upright, but instead, the orc pulled Raeln down to be level with him.
The orc slowly lifted his head, keeping one hand to his forehead and the other clasped firmly on Raeln’s arm. “You’re calm,” the man told Raeln without looking up. “Everywhere else, there is panic and worry in such abundance. In you, I hear only silent acceptance. How do you do this?”
All around, Raeln could see what the man was speaking of reflected on the faces of every warrior he looked at. They might not be making noise as the man had said, but they were certainly worried. Even Greth’s demeanor gave off true fear, though he hid it well…not well enough to conceal it from Raeln, but well, nonetheless.
“I’m as scared as anyone out here,” he told the orc, who slowly slid backwards to prop his back against the battlements while keeping his eyes and much of his face covered. Only his jaw and shaved scalp were visible around the man’s meaty hands, the tusks protruding from his lower jaw standing out against the dark green skin. “There’s no place for panic in war. I ignore the fear. You need to, too.”
The orcish man laughed shallowly. “You must teach me this, wildling. The inner calm you use like a shield is far better than my own defenses. War does not bother me, but the noise does.”
Raeln moved to leave the orc, but the man grabbed his wrist and held firm.
“I will go where you do,” the man said. “The noise will make me ill if I don’t stay near someone with a quiet mind. I need to concentrate on someone like you. Once I am more accustomed to it, I may be able to move on my own.”
“If you’re going to follow me around, take a weapon and be useful,” answered Raeln, drawing his sword and handing it to the man hilt-first.
“Tell me something before I get up,” the orc insisted, making no move for the weapon. “Where am I?”
“The north battlements.”
“Give me a city, wildling. I have wandered a long time and would know where I ended up.”
“Lantonne.”
The orc stiffened, then grinned broadly, mirthfully giggling to himself. “Very well. Thank you for your kindness.” The man lowered his hand slowly and squinted in the sunlight at the sword Raeln offered. As he did, he moved his hand clear of his forehead, revealing the black whorls across his brow and down onto his cheeks.
“Turessian!” Raeln gasped, then opened his mouth to shout it. Before he could, the orc tackled him, driving the back of his hand against Raeln’s throat, choking and silencing him. Nearby, the other defenders looked over in shock, but were too busy firing down on the enemy to get involved.
“I left those lands a long time ago,” the orc hissed at Raeln, bringing his face right up to Raeln’s. “I am with you, wildling. Do not drive off those who wish to aid this city, especially right now. Question my motives when the battle is over. Until then, accept my help or wat
ch your city ripped down one stone at a time. I did not wait all these years to abandon my duties and let these lands fall without a fight.”
The orc held Raeln a second longer, before easing the pressure against Raeln’s neck and chest, allowing him to breathe or shout if he desired. His other hand remained on Raeln’s wrist from where he had blocked Raeln’s attempts to push him away. “You’re a wolf,” the orc noted, as though he had just realized it. He looked down at Raeln’s arm and the silver bracelet that lay just below where he gripped. “A wolf wildling.”
“And you’re a Turessian…”
“I am not your enemy, so do not start that again. When I left those lands, we did not use that name.”
“How long have you been in the city?” demanded Raeln, shoving the orc away and pulling his hand free.
“About ten minutes, if that long. How long have you worn that piece of jewelry?”
“So you came with the undead and you want me to trust you? Why should I tell you anything?”
The orc laughed and offered Raeln a hand to help him stand. “I arrived after them, about the same time that thing got close to the city, by my guess,” the orc said, sticking a thumb out in the direction of the black cloud over the quarry. “Tell me something, wildling. Who have you lost recently?”
“We’re going to lose everyone if we don’t start fighting.”
Frowning, the orc nodded and looked out at the undead army. “My name is On’esquin,” explained the orc, bending at the waist to scoop up the sword Raeln had offered him initially. “I will fight with you against those who abuse the name my people took as their own. Keep close, or I will have trouble concentrating on battle. I am entirely at your disposal.”
“Raeln,” replied Raeln. “Stay with me if you want, but you need to be able to keep up with me. You make any move to help them and I throw you over the wall.”