Dragons of War (62 page)

Relkin scrambled for his bow, then leaned over the wall and fired down into the imps that were lifting up the next ladder.

He saw his shaft go home, and an imp fell. Arrows were bouncing off the wall; one skipped an inch from his hand as he ducked back. He reloaded.

Rocks from the dragons continued to fly and to take a toll on the trolls, but now they felt a different tread on the mound of faggots and corpses. Relkin looked up and saw the ogres looming overhead.

Relkin froze, overcome by the primeval fear of carnivorous monsters. The nearest ogre looked down at him with red eyes that seemed to burn in black pits sunk in the huge ape face. The fear was akin to dragon-freeze, and it pinned him in place for what was almost a fatal second.

He darted sideways at the last moment as he glimpsed a hammer falling from high overhead. There was a terrific concussion behind him, and fragments of rock struck him in the legs.

There was a unified roar from the dragons as they rose up to take on these new monsters of the battlefield.

Relkin took aim at the colossus's face, released smoothly, and saw his shaft sprout from its nose. The ogre uttered a wild roar and swung its huge hammer high again.

Then Bazil disposed of a sword troll by cleaving it almost in two, and then swung and stuck his shield hard into the ogre's chest. It barely seemed to react.

Bazil's big eyes popped. There was no doubting the fact that these brutes were strong. Still, strength was one thing, and speed was another.

Baz tried his forehand, and Ecator rang off the monster's shield as it covered itself. The dragon looked up into the insane face of the ogre, it was at least four feet taller than himself! The red eyes burned with malevolence, and Bazil wondered if anything could shift the brute.

The great hammer swung down at him, and he moved, spinning rightward, tail mace flashing in the monster's face until he brought Ecator in at five feet off the ground.

The ogre's shield took the brunt of the blow and deflected it. Then its hammer came down and knocked the dragon backward. Legionaries scrambled to get out of Bazil's way as he careened back.

The leatherback hung onto his sword and shield, but lost his footing and crashed into the garden. Relkin struck down at an imp as it tried to get a leg over the wall. A legionary thrust over with his spear, and the imp fell back.

The next moment the ogre's hammer obliterated the legionary and knocked another chunk out of the wall.

An ax troll was climbing over unopposed. Men of the Fird ran forward with their battle cry. The troll swung its huge ax, and the men flattened themselves. They jumped to their feet and rushed the monster. It kept them at a distance with its shield and the ax swung again and again and the men were forced back, unable to face such might.

Relkin fired at the troll, glimpsed the ogre's hammer coming down again, and dodged. The hammer blow demolished more of the wall. Relkin had another arrow loaded, and he shot an imp as it scrambled onto the top of the wall. Then a sword troll came over the walk, and its huge sword scythed through the air just above Relkin's head.

Bazil was regaining his feet. Relkin spun away from the sword troll's next blow and almost ran onto the blade of an imp that had climbed over in the interim. Two more were coming right behind him.

The imp drew back to slay him and died instead with an arrow in his throat. Relkin looked over his shoulder and saw Jak reloading.

"Thanks!" he yelled.

Jak had no time to reply since another sword troll was coming over on Alsebra's left side. He fired, reloaded, and fired again, giving Alsebra a fraction of a second in which to shift position and engage the troll.

Three Firdsmen came up to reinforce them. More were coming. They were just in time. More than half a dozen imps were over the wall, and the trolls were almost across.

Bazil hurled himself back to the wall and slashed the ax troll; Ecator sundered the haft of its weapon. It stumbled back with an awed roar of surprise.

The sword troll swung, Bazil deflected the blow with his shield, and came back with an overhand that sent the troll back to the wall. Before Bazil could follow up, however, the ogre stepped closer and lashed out with that huge hammer.

Bazil dodged, and the hammer went past and struck the sword troll at the end of its trajectory. The sword troll was knocked back over the wall.

Bazil planted his feet and brought Ecator around at knee height on the ogre. This time Ecator clipped through the bottom corner of the ogre's shield in a great flash of sparks and sank into the monster's leg. It gave a scream of pain and rage, and tried to pound the dragon into the ground. Bazil deflected the blow, although it left his arm numb.

The damage to the ogre's leg had slowed it, and Bazil regained his position in time to cut down an ax troll and then hammer the ogre's shield once more. The troll subsided, but the ogre's hammer broke out another chunk of the wall.

The ogre struck the wall again and a section moved. Two spearmen ran forward with a desperate cry, both holding the shaft of a long lance.

They raised the point and thrust hard for the belly of the ogre. But they were too slow. The ogre deflected the lance with its shield and its great hammer whistled through their position. One man was not quick enough, and his upper body was smashed the next moment.

A clansman from the Fird leapt at the ogre and landed on its chest. With the ancient battle cry of Clan Wattel screaming from his lips, he thrust into it again and again with his sword, working between gaps in the crude leather armor the ogres wore on their chests.

It snarled and tore the man away with its shield hand, but doing so exposed its chest and this time Bazil made sure, Ecator came around over his shoulder and sank fully into the ogre's neck.

The terrible red glare in those eyes faded and went out, and the monster swayed there like a tree in a high wind. When Baz put a foot up and shoved to free the blade, the ogre toppled and fell sideways.

As it fell it caught the edge of the wall, and the weakened section collapsed and opened a breach. Imps were darting through before the dust had cleared. Men and dragonboys were waiting, swords in hand.

Another ogre was climbing over the wall, fending off Alsebra with its shield. She was distracted by a sword troll that was also trying to get a leg over the parapet.

A brave spearman ran in and thrust home into the side of the sword troll. It cut at him and he ducked back, but an imp shot him down from the top of the wall.

There were imps everywhere. Relkin had his hands full with a squat one wearing an outlandish, square helmet and wielding a two-handed sword that was almost too much for Relkin's shield.

More imps were getting over. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw an imp nip in behind Bazil, and with a despairing cry, he launched himself right over the dragon's tail and caromed into the imp before it could hack at Bazil's hamstrings.

He fell with the imp, and they rolled over. The imp was on top of him. He kneed it furiously in the side and knocked it loose. His dirk was in his hand and plunged into the imp's throat in the next moment.

But now the imp with the two-handed sword was swinging at the dragon's back.

Relkin yelled a warning to Bazil and threw his dirk at the imp with the same practiced move that had slain Trader Dook. The big knife sank into the imp's side just below the arm, and his stroke went wild and slid off the joboquin.

Baz felt the blow, though, and was distracted enough to snap his curiously bent tail sideways and flatten the imp's square helmet and the head within.

Relkin bent to retrieve his dirk. As he stood up, he felt something rush past his face, and the hammer of yet another ogre struck the wall beside him and collapsed the whole section.

An enormous leg loomed through the dust. An imp came through, crouched, put an arrow into Bazil's back. Relkin struck it down and then backed away.

The ogre was through the wall.

The ogre was through! The tide of battle swayed under the dark skies before the dawn.

Bazil danced and spun and struck again and again at the ogre with Ecator, but this one was a little quicker than the last, and it matched every blow with its shield. The huge hammer whirled around, and Bazil had to wobble backward out of range.

Imps ran in, arrows flicking from their bows. Trolls were coming through the gap.

Bazil came back with a combination, a forehand and an overhand. The ogre met the first stroke but not the second, and Ecator sundered the monster's leather, padded armor, and drew a gout of thick black blood.

The ogre roared with pain and jerked the hammer inside and jabbed Bazil in the belly. The air whooshed out of the dragon's lungs as he doubled up. The ogre clubbed him with the edge of its shield, and though his helmet took the blow, he was still stunned. He sagged to his knees. The ogre raised its hammer for the killing stroke.

The blow never fell, however. A slim figure jumped onto the dragon's back and then vaulted over the ogre's shield and landed with legs astride its right shoulder.

The huge head swiveled, and Relkin thrust his sword into the right eye. The ogre jerked its head back, his sword came free, and he almost toppled off. The ogre's jaws opened and lunged for him.

Relkin threw himself off the monster's shoulder and toppled down the inside of its arm, bounced off its thigh, and turned a somersault to land on his feet right in front of it.

"Out of way" came a roar behind him, and he darted sideways, as Bazil came back with a rush, slammed into the ogre, and stood it up tall and straight.

It struggled to find the leverage needed to swing the hammer, and in that space Bazil struck hard. Ecator cut off a corner of the ogre's enormous shield and scored again in the creature's side.

Still it came on, seemingly unkillable. The hammer looped back, and Bazil foolishly tried to take the blow on his shield. For his pains, he was bowled over. The shield was heavily dented, and he was lucky not to have his arm broken.

The ogre came on, crushing three men of the Fird beneath its feet and then sweeping another section of the wall to ruin with its giant hammer.

With a deep breath, Bazil got back on his feet.

The ogre snarled at him and set itself ready with shield and hammer. Ecator flashed and sank into the haft of the ogre's hammer. The two giants went shield to shield, and this time Bazil held his ground. Indeed he set his feet and heaved the taller, more slender ogre backward a step.

It clipped him hard with the edge of its shield again, and he saw stars but kept on shoving and thrust his knee into its crotch. This upset the ogre, and it forgot all pretense of battle training, dropped its hammer, and seized Bazil's shoulders while it tried to bite off his head.

Bazil broke the grip with a sideways shake, slammed his shield into the monster's face, and hewed into it with Ecator once more. This time he found its heart, and the brute fell with a crash that made the ground jump.

At the same time Alsebra slew another ax troll, and the Purple Green knocked the legs out from under an ogre, causing it to topple off the wall and roll back over the faggots, crushing imps and trolls beneath it.

Bazil swung Ecator low and fast to reap the imps like grain, and then all three dragons lifted their voices in a roar of triumph.

Men of the Fird came running up with timbers with which to block the breach. A squad of bowmen came behind them and took up positions to rake the imps in front of the wall to the vintner's garden.

Bazil struck down another ax troll, and the Purple Green slew a sword troll. The momentum was suddenly back in their hands and with a brisk spell of sword and shield work, they completely regained the wall.

To their right, however, the fighting continued on the barricade, and they could hear the dragons roaring in counterpoint to the bellowing of trolls and ogres.

Still, around the vintner's garden, there was a lull.

Relkin saw Dragon Leader Turrent stumbling past. Turrent's eyes were glazed with the shock of battle.

"Sir?" said Relkin.

"What is it?" he said in a dull voice.

"Oil, sir. There's a store of oil nearby. We should pour it on the wooden faggots they've piled up against the wall. When they come again, we set it on fire."

"Oil?" Turrent shook his head. Relkin saw that he'd been struck hard across the side of the head; there was a gash and matted blood. The dragon leader's eyes were vague and empty.

"Yes, sir, there's lots of olive oil, I think. Hard to set it alight so we will have to get some spirits and soak rags with them to ignite it. But once it burns, it will blaze."

"Oil?"

Relkin explained again, trying desperately to be patient, aware that every second counted.

Then at last the light of comprehension glowed in Turrent's eyes.

He looked over the wall, the enemy assault had completely stopped around them. Only on the barricade was it still going. And then he saw the attackers ebbing back even from the barricade. The ogres had been stopped.

"Show me the oil."

Within a few minutes, dragons and men were rolling barrels of oil up a ramp, through the alley, and across the garden.

At the wall they were lifted up by the Purple Green, and their contents poured over the wall. The pile of brush tied into faggots, mixed liberally with the corpses of imps and trolls and men, was soon well soaked in the finest olive oil.

Meanwhile Relkin and Jak had torn up the wardrobe of the vintner's wife and soaked it in spirits of petroleum normally used for lamps. They ran back with baskets stuffed with incendiary rags and the rest of the spirits of petroleum.

They were only just in time. The enemy had reformed and was gathering the next wave of the assault. Drums began to thunder.

"They're coming again," said little Jak.

Relkin built a pile of hay, scrap paper snatched from the vintner's study and some fragments of wood. He sprinkled some of the spirits onto the hay, tore the paper into shreds with shaky hands, and struck sparks over it with his flint and steel.