Chapter 22
“Get ready!” Wikkid yelled.
All along the wall archers made ready. Use of special ordnance had already been authorized. When the next engagement begins there would be no stopping until one side or another was destroyed. Dredrik held no illusions about which side that would be. Now it was simply a matter of how much damage they could do before being forced to retreat, if they got the chance to do that.”
Of course they had a few tricks up their sleeves Dredrik thought. There were the wards Anja had placed on the walls, along with what surprises she and Eertu could conjure up together. There was Hadrenn, Vessa, and Lesley. It was a good bet those three would do what they could from outside. On second thought they really didn’t have very many tricks at all. They would just have to hope what they did have was good enough.
“What do you see?”
“Nothing,” Wikkid said peering into the fog, just a feeling.”
Dredrik followed Wikkid’s gaze unable to make out a thing, but that did not mean anything. Wikkid often had feelings and he was never wrong. Trusting Wikkid’s feelings had saved them countless times. “That’s good enough for me old friend. Anja, you said the main gate was un-wardable?”
“I am afraid so. The wood was very unique and would not accept any I tried.”
“Eertu, they will soon be hurtling big rocks at this gate. Think you can blast them out of the air.”
“Alone no, a spell powerful enough to destroy trebuchet ammunition takes time to build up. It will take both Anja and me alternating shots and it will be taxing.”
“So be it. We last as long as that gate does. Captain, Barnes, I need you to take command of the second gate. Make sure that gate closes before the enemy gets to it no matter what happens. If we don’t make it order a full retreat. Make for Calington and let them know everything.
Barnes smiled grimly. “And get an old slow man out of the way.”
“I won’t lie and say that was not a factor. But I know I can trust you to carry out those orders without hesitation.”
“I assure you when the main gates are destroyed and the hordes are advancing there is not a one of us that could not close those gates fast enough. Good luck, Dredrik. May fortune favor the bold.”
“Dredrik, Lesley says we’ve got incoming,” Nichole said.
Fireballs formed instantly in the palms of Eertu’s hands growing in intensity with every passing moment. After a brief hesitation Anja did the same thing. A great warcry erupted from the fog as a mass of soldiers spewed forth at the same time boulders burst through the haze barely visibly in the nearly faded daylight. Fire flew from Eertu’s hands shattering stone just a few feet from the gate.
The ground in front of the walls lit up as explosion erupted throughout the enemy ranks, the first deadly volley killing more in seconds than what died when Eertu and Anja turned Merca’s own spell against them. Screams of the dying echoed off the walls as body parts were thrown many feet higher than the battlements. Still more attackers rushed forward headless of the death their fellows suffered. Ladders were raised and quickly destroyed by the destructive forces wielded by the defending archers. The walls themselves flared brilliantly as both magical and physical assaults were repelled by the wards.
Dredrik and Wikkid watched helplessly as the battle raged around them neither being skilled with ranged weapons, yet both knew that when it came time for their weapons to draw blood the end was near.
. . . . .
Mareth watched the battle rage through the now thinning fog, the shaman too busy with the assault to worry about keeping up the blind. The defenders had been well prepared indeed but thanks to the Lord General’s spy he knew the tide would turn soon. The devices of destruction being employed were limited and soon the advantage would swing again to the legions.
The warlock and the keeper made a formidable pair thwarting every attempt to breach the gates, but their powers were not without limits. He had faced many such adversaries in his time and the key to victory was always the same. Let them expend themselves then move in for the kill.
So that’s what he did, waited with his men ready to escort the battering ram in once the treat to it was minimized. Also in reserve were three mages all with the ability to blast the great gates to splinter given enough time to build their strength for an all-powerful release.
He also noticed that Merca was nowhere to be found. The sorcerer was probably with the Lord General still trying to explain why all his normal tricks had failed. If for no other reason he had found a reason to like the warlock standing defiantly upon the battlements. A shame the man could never be turned against his friends.
Standing just a few feet to the left of the warlock stood the target of his aggression. Dredrik, the paladin that did not know he was. Still there had been strength to him in Galnath despite is lack of training in the powers he possessed. All he could hope was that the man would put up a good fight. It had been a long time since he had faced a true challenge. Failing that, there was the dwarf. He had never faced one and yearned to add another trophy.
Not more than a hundred feet behind Mareth Jillian studied her prey. As promised Merca had seen to her guards and released her. She had to stay close if she were to have a chance at her revenge. The protections offered her by the child in her womb almost guaranteed she would survive to get her shot. It was just a matter of waiting for the right moment. For the hundredth time she checked to make sure Merca’s dagger remained secure in her belt. Soon she thought, very soon.
. . . . .
Vessa lead her small party into the back side of the enemy encampment. There were a few guards about, all easily eliminated quietly and bodies hidden. Cautiously they weaved through the maze of the tents grabbing food and supplies where they could be found in preparation for their trek over the mountains.
Their bounty had been abundant so far, most of what they needed already collected. Now they simply sought out targets of opportunity. Who knows maybe they would even get a shot at the enemies’ leadership.
A descent sized patrol approached from behind the camp, probably returning from sweeping the roads for stragglers. Vessa motioned for the party to slide into the large tent they hid against. Hadrenn held up an edge while the two women slid under then rolled under himself.
Two men garbed in ragged clothes let out small startled cried as Hadrenn came to his feet. One of the men started to shout an alarm but was cut short as both Vessa and Lesley came up behind them and slit their throats. Both men were guided slowly and silently to the ground as they choked on their own blood.
Hadrenn quickly studied his surroundings, men and women practically nude laid strapped to cots arranged in a circular pattern. They were all gaunt from malnutrition, muscles wasted away. These poor souls had to be in agonizing pain. Lesley voiced what he was thinking.
“Poor bastards, this has to be hell.”
“Do we free them or kill them?” Hadrenn asked.
None of the bed ridden people so much as moaned or even wiggled their fingers, yet they breathed. Upon closer inspection Vessa could see their eyelids were held open by adhesive soaked cloths. Looking up above the cots she could see glyphs painted on the ceiling. “Good chance these people are beyond saving. I say we look around for anything useful then we put these souls out of their misery.”