by Terry Brooks
Off into this glorious day the attack fleet sailed, flying west for a time, then turning north to cross the Mermidon and begin a descent toward the Skaar fortifications. Ketter Vause, standing amidships on the decking of his chosen command vessel, had transformed into the soldier he had once been. He did not wear the Prime Minister’s robes but the jacket, pants, and boots of a commander of the Federation army—epaulets, decorations, and all. Proudly visible to all who worked the airship from topmast to scuppers, and bow to stern, he gave his soldiers the leader they needed, standing there, fully exposed, knowing they could not help but be encouraged. They would take heart at the sight of him and do their duty as a consequence.
He was not entirely delusional but certainly misguided in his assumption of how those who served him would respond. But then he was not entirely aware of what he was getting into, either.
His plan was straightforward enough. This would be a strike against the Skaar on the order of the one the ill-fated Commander Dresch had launched a month earlier but with very different results. This time, the Skaar would be caught off guard, and the result would be massive destruction and loss of life. A retaliatory action was to be guarded against, but if attempted it was destined to fail. The Skaar would be forced to use what remained of their airships, after having been hammered from all sides by superior numbers. If they chose to land, they would have to rush Federation lines that were ready and waiting for them. If they attempted to disguise their numbers and their positions by disappearing, the Reveals would be employed. The Skaar would be coated with a sticky substance that would expose them utterly and result in their annihilation.
In theory, it sounded reasonable. But it had been many years since Ketter Vause had served in the military, and he had never been directly involved in any real action. His skills lay in planning and assessment. Time had eroded his abilities, however, and in the heat of anger and urgency he forgot an important detail.
Signalmen stood to either side of him, ready to raise the flags designated to indicate the attack targets and those elements of the task force responsible for destroying them. This should have been done earlier, but Vause wanted to orchestrate the attack personally, implementing every detail with finely tuned precision.
Which ignored more than a few realities when it came to implementing combat tactics on a scale this size.
As the fleet closed on its target, coming in from the east, Vause gave the order to raise the flags, and the warships separated—the Federation flagship heading for the center of the camp and Cor d’Amphere’s quarters, the second warship flying toward the airfield where the Skaar airships were moored, and the third warship swooping down to skim the length of the forward fortifications and their defenders. Two gunships and a scattering of flits accompanied each, and the scouts split off on search-and-destroy missions of their own.
Imagine their surprise when they found Cor d’Amphere’s tented quarters and virtually all of the smaller tents surrounding it empty and lifeless. The airfield was likewise empty of aircraft of any sort. Only scarecrows formed of wood and straw and wire manned the fortifications that lined the north bank of the Mermidon River.
But none of this was visible at first—not until after the separate attacks were under way, the flash rip cannons and rail slings raining down fire and jagged metal, the explosives canisters jettisoned over the railings of the warships to tumble earthward and erupt in huge craters. The failure of even a single soldier to appear in the aftermath gave proof to a disbelief that quickly became a certainty.
No one was there.
The Skaar camp had been abandoned, and the Skaar army—along with its airships, weapons, and equipment—had vanished.
TWENTY-SIX
THE ONE IMPORTANT DETAIL Ketter Vause had failed to pay sufficient attention to was that when military tactics were employed, matters seldom went the way they were anticipated to go. If anything, the expected course of a battle tended to change all too quickly. He had assumed that his preparations were more than adequate for what was needed. The attack, after all, was a preliminary engagement, intended to draw the Skaar out from behind their fortifications and across to where the Federation could effectively use the Reveals and their superior numbers and weaponry to put an end to the invaders. This would have worked perfectly if the Skaar had simply stayed put and let it happen.
But from the very beginning of their engagements with the Federation, the Skaar had always been one step ahead. They had managed this through superior skills and experience, and the one small detail to which the Prime Minister had failed to pay sufficient attention.
The Skaar could be standing right next to you, invisible as the air you breathed, and you would never know it.
Oh, he had given it enough thought when it came to a direct engagement—to a battle in which revealing the Skaar to his Federation soldiers was of paramount importance. But he failed to give it sufficient consideration when he was making his plans to engage the Skaar in battle so that his new weaponry could be used to destroy them. He had failed to consider that the Skaar might already know about the weaponry and his plans for using it, and work around it.
Belladrin Rish was sitting at the Prime Minister’s desk, organizing and preparing to deliver his marching orders to those left behind at the Federation camp—which was almost the entire complement of the army. The crews and soldiers who had departed two hours earlier for the north bank represented a relatively small portion of those who had been brought up from Arishaig for the confrontation with the Skaar. Most were engaged in ordinary pursuits while they waited for the Prime Minister and their fellows to return.
Belladrin was so preoccupied with her own work that at first she barely heard the sudden tumult that surfaced beyond her tent walls. But when it grew stronger, she rose and went out to see what was happening. A jumble of shouts and cries rose to greet her, a clear indication of things gone wrong.
A pair of beleaguered-looking commanders stumbled forward, a dozen soldiers trailing in their wake. “We need to get word to the Prime Minister!” one blurted out. “We’re under attack!”
She calmed him down enough to discover that those who had witnessed their arrival saw what they believed to be the entire Skaar invasion force landing not more than a mile to the south—thousands upon thousands of soldiers ready to descend on the Federation camp.
“Have our soldiers been deployed?” she demanded, trying to ignore the frantic looks and voices.
They had, and new defensive lines were being assembled to stop the advance. But Vause had taken most of the top leadership across the river with him, and what commanders remained were more used to taking orders than giving them. Plus, there was a rumor spreading through the Federation ranks that the Skaar army was an unstoppable juggernaut and its soldiers something more than human. The Federation defensive lines would be smashed, the camp overrun, and everyone put to the sword.
She gave it a moment’s thought, the irony of the situation not lost to her. Here she was, a person with no leadership experience, no military background, and nothing more than common sense—a spokesman for the Prime Minister at best—and she was the one they were consulting. She forced down an urge to laugh, her circumstances so much more complicated than any of them knew
She had a decision to make, and for once did not know how to make it.
As if by magic, Choten Benz appeared at her elbow. “Belladrin?” he said quietly, drawing her attention. “We have to move the Reveals from the riverbank to the rear of the camp, where they might be more useful. They’re the only effective weapons we have.”
And he’s asking my permission. Well, there you have it. She nodded immediately. “Yes. Order it done.”
Benz turned to the officers and the men clustered about them and gave the order. Not wanting to take the matter any further, and secretly relieved to have something specific to do, the commanders set out with several dozen
of their men to collect the Reveals. Belladrin watched them go, conflicted on several fronts. Was there enough time to manage the situation? Could she turn this around, or were they facing disaster?
She couldn’t be sure.
By now the entire camp was mobilizing for battle, but Belladrin harbored no illusions. Federation soldiers were well trained and experienced, but all the experience and training in the world would not save them if the Reveals did not reach their defenses before the battle began. Instead, the Skaar would disappear, one after the other, right in front of the defenders, and begin killing them.
She made a quick decision. “We need to summon the Federation soldiers who have been trained to operate the Reveals!” she shouted.
“What we need,” Choten Benz replied, stepping right in front of her and seizing her by the shoulders, “is the Dwarves. Those Federation soldiers aren’t the ones best able to operate those weapons in a situation like this!”
He was right. Efficient use of the Reveals was crucial to the army’s chances for survival, and while Battenhyle and Lakodan may have provided instruction to the Federation soldiers chosen to operate the weapons, there was no substitute for the real thing.
“Let’s go get them,” she agreed and raced off to find the Dwarves with her taciturn companion right behind her.
* * *
—
Even before the banging on the doors of their quarters began, the Dwarves were aware that something was wrong. The sounds of frantic activity, coupled with a rising cacophony of shouts and cries, were deafening. The sudden appearance of Belladrin and Choten Benz only confirmed their suspicions.
“We are under attack,” Belladrin announced without even the most perfunctory of greetings. “The Skaar have crossed the river and come up behind us. They are preparing to strike from the rear, and there are thousands of them—perhaps their entire army. The Prime Minister is off on his own expedition, so I am taking it upon myself to put you back in charge of the Reveals. Without them, we cannot keep the invaders from disappearing during the attack. I need you and your men to agree to man your weapons and use them to save us all.”
“Taking it upon yourself?” Lakodan repeated in disbelief. He started to grin. “Ketter Vause will skin you alive!”
“He won’t have anyone left to skin if we don’t have reliable operators for the Reveals,” Choten Benz said quickly. “How well prepared do you think those Federation soldiers you instructed might be? Can you promise they will be able to keep those Reveals functioning in a battle of this magnitude?”
“No,” Battenhyle said at once. “There wasn’t enough time for the level of instruction needed. It should be Dwarves doing the work.”
“Then Dwarves it will be,” Belladrin declared. “If you stand with us in this struggle, I will see to it that everything I promised to do earlier gets done.”
“Well, the odds don’t sound all that promising.” Lakodan rolled his shoulders, and his compact, muscular body seemed to swell within his clothing. “But no one lives forever.” He glanced at Battenhyle. “And it’s a fine morning for a fight, isn’t it, Old Bear? I think we should stick around.”
It was a casually given, recklessly made commitment, both inspiring and mad. There were perhaps twenty-five Dwarves, and they would be the focus of the Federation attack the moment the enemy discovered what the Reveals could do. But you made the best of things in situations as extreme as this one if that was the only choice you had.
“Commander Benz and I will take you to the others,” Belladrin offered quickly. “The Reveals are already being brought up.”
They left the stockade and proceeded to where the other Dwarves were being housed. From there, they all moved as quickly as possible to the rear of the camp and the focal point of the impending attack. They were joined by plenty of others on the way. Soldiers were scrambling to join their units, their efforts frantic and their shouts wild and urgent. Flash rip cannons were being hauled from the riverfront to the newly established southern perimeter, massive iron mouths gaping skyward. However shocked they might be by the unexpected appearance of the invaders to their rear, the Federation army was not giving in to panic or despair. If anything, they seemed less a panicked mob and more a determined, angry collective. Shirtless, hatless, in some cases shoeless, they nevertheless carried their weapons and yelled encouragement to their fellows as they went.
We might actually survive this, Lakodan thought.
Unless, of course, some bullheaded senior commander had countered Benz’s orders and kept the Reveals facing across the river, emboldened by a self-imposed superior feeling that he should not have to listen to a young woman with no experience or training. Such men existed and always seemed to surface at the wrong moment. He knew well enough that, without those Reveals, the Federation would be overrun and cut to pieces. Still, there was nothing to do but to assume the weapons would be ready and waiting when they arrived.
* * *
—
There were two types of Reveals. The stationary Reveal resembled an ancient cannon—an artifact conjured up from times even before the Great Wars. Its broad iron barrel rested atop a pair of heavy wooden wheels that allowed for it to be moved about and positioned as needed. One end of the barrel was slightly flared and covered with a wide-mesh screen that capped the opening and diffused the liquid mixture the weapon emitted upon being fired. The other end was a mass of attached containers with feeds looped to several large wooden barrels grouped within an enclosure of thick iron sidewalls that rested atop a platform attached at the rear of the weapon. Pumps powered by parse tubes of fully charged diapson crystals fed the contents of the barrels into the containers attached to form the mixture.
It was the composition of the mixture that made all the difference.
The Reveal was not a true weapon. It did not fire projectiles or cause harm to whatever it was fired upon. Its name said all you needed to know about its function. When charged and ignited, the barrel emitted a wide spray of the mixture formed by the contents of the barrels up to almost a hundred yards. Because the spray tended to break down the farther it traveled, it was most effective at half that distance. And it was quite by accident that this particular usage was discovered. The machine’s original purpose was for spraying composite or paint much more quickly than workers could manage by hand. The nature of the mixture was calibrated to the intended use. For instance, composite required a heavier mixture than paint.
This meant that the operators of the Reveal had to be trained in how to form the necessary mixture. The barrels on the rear platform contained a variety of extracts for base materials, thinners, and thickeners. Using the proper amounts for whatever was required was a very exact science. If you failed to create the proper balance, the Reveals would produce an ineffective mix or, even worse, clog the feeds.
It was a new science, and only the Dwarves of Crackenrood were well versed in its usage. In part, this was because those few who had heard about it thought it of little importance. They might have felt differently if they had known it could do more than initially intended, but using it to reveal concealed or camouflaged objects was a very recent discovery. Even use of the name Reveal was only just beginning to catch on, and then only in the Dwarf community.
The portable Reveal was not invented until after the stationary Reveal had been in use for months. It was built by a Dwarf who had been instrumental in the creation of the original and, after thinking on it for a time, came up with a new design. Working alone in his shed, he crafted a handheld version with a tank that strapped to the back. This mobility made the device more diversely functional and therefore the operator’s work much easier.
Had nothing further happened, that might have been the end of the matter. But two months later, a Gnome raiding party invaded Crackenrood’s remote west end, descending on the outlying homes at night intending to steal away women and children to sell
as slaves. The Dwarf, half asleep and unable to lay hands on his battle-ax, grabbed the closest potential weapon he could find, which was his new handheld invention. Strapping it on, still fully loaded with paint from the previous day’s work, he went out to join his neighbors and sent clouds of sprayed paint onto the attackers in an effort to blind them.
The result was something of a surprise. Not only were his targets indeed blinded, when not quick enough to shield their eyes, but also Gnomes he had not been able to spy in the darkness of a moonless, clouded sky were coated by the container’s luminescent paint and clearly revealed to the Dwarf defenders. In the end, the raiders were driven off and the Dwarves were made aware of an important new use for the soon-to-be-renamed Reveal.
But the residents of Crackenrood kept the secret of this new use to themselves—secret even from the other Dwarf villages—as they began a series of experiments seeking to make their new weapon operate more efficiently. So even its very existence had been carefully guarded since then, and it was something of a surprise that Ketter Vause had found out. Still, the Prime Minister’s spies were everywhere, and like so many secrets this one had been leaked or bargained away.
* * *
—
And now both Reveals were about to be tested in a way neither had been tested before. Lakodan thought about what was at stake and what would be expected of the Dwarves and found it daunting. But before any testing could be undertaken and any measure of the Reveals’ success measured, the battle would be under way.
On this day, fate favored the bold, and they found the stationary Reveals in place, heavily barricaded and still fastened to their elevated platforms. How the Captain of the Guard and his men had managed this feat was anyone’s guess, but it brought a smile to the Dwarf’s lips. With Battenhyle urging them on, they divided into three groups—some set to loading and priming their massive weapons and others to attaching the barrels that held the spray mixture that would be used against their enemies once the attack began. With help from Choten Benz, they drafted soldiers to act as runners for fresh supplies, including the ingredients for refreshing the mix, additional diapson crystals, spare hoses and barrels, and water wagons with pumps to protect the vulnerable parts of the Reveals and their fortifications from the fire the Skaar would almost certainly try to use to destroy them.