Fortress Draconis (80 page)

The grand dragonels did not quite go off as one, but it hardly mattered. The huge weapons had a bore the diameter of a common warrior’s shield, perhaps two and a half feet across. An iron ball that size would have been impossibly heavy and the charge needed to lift it would have exploded the weapon. Scatter-shot, even made up of fist-size balls would have worked, but against a dragon’s armor would not have done much more than shatter a few scales and anger the beast.

The Draconis Baron, having once used a single long needle to skewer and kill a dragon, decided to repeat his use of that weapon, but multiply it. Each grand dragonel had been loaded with a wooden canister, a cylindrical barrel a yard long and filled with wax. Into the wax had been sunk eighteen yard-long steel fiechettes with razored tips thickened for penetrating armor. As the weapons detonated and the fire expanded to fill the metal tube, the canister accelerated. The fire melted the wax and blasted the canister apart, then sped the fiechettes with an incendiary push.

From the south needles lanced through the partially healed wound on the dragon’s thigh, ripping it open anew and causing the limb to falter. The western arc’s dragonels’ shots did not all hit, but several pierced its cheek and one exploded its left eye. The northern arc proved most accurate, peppering the dragon over its right side, skewering its paw, flank, foot, wing, and tail. None of the wounds were fatal, but the needles plunged in deeply, tearing muscle and spilling fiery black blood.

The shots from the east, the stronghold from which Cavarre had issued the order to fire, struck hardest and best. They caught the dragon full on in the back, stickling shoulders and neck. They screwed themselves in tightly, splintering bone and further rending tissue. One, in particular, struck for great effect.

As the dragon leaped up from the tower and opened its wings to strike for safety, the left wing failed to respond. That one needle had severed a nerve, numbing the wing. The gold dragon’s hale wing pumped mightily, and its tail lashed savagely, tearing through the fragment chamber. The wing’s thrust began a somersault that the tail could not stop, and the half-blind dragon crashed down hard into the Maze, smashing its head against a stronghold before it disappeared amid the dust of collapsing buildings.

Erlestoke yelped with joy, then shot down a ramp and ran toward the building where his company of troops awaited him. He pointed to the east, back toward the ruined main gate, but before he could tell them to move out in that direction, something clanked heavily behind him. His men’s eyes widened and some of them ducked back. The prince looked to his left and saw one of the thunderballs lazily rolling through the air as it bounced past him.

For the briefest of moments he tried to memorize the details on the device so he could describe it for the Draconis Baron.

About the time he realized he was never going to share that information with his mentor, the thunderball exploded.

Alexia did her best to peel away as much anxiety as she could about the evacuation. She freely admitted to herself that, all things considered, it was going better than expected. They got further along than planned that first day and by halfway through the second they’d reached a supply cache that Dothan Cavarre had set up in the event he needed to detach troops and have them operating to the south. Kerrigan managed to get through the spells warding it, and the cache provided a plethora of supplies, including enough weapons that every adult could arm themselves.

The rest of that second day had been devoted to themeckanshü‘s acquainting the noncombatants with their weapons. Alyx harbored no illusions that being armed would make the adults into anything even vaguely useful as a fighting force. Even so, being given something to do to defend their children buoyed confidence and banished some fear, so that was to the good.

By that second night, however, she faced a grave decision. Peri had reported, and a quick scouting foray with

Crow and Resolute had confirmed, that the refugee train was being stalked. Aurolani cavalry had moved south on a course that paralleled theirs. They stayed to the east, cutting the refugees off from the Tynik River, which they could have forded above Yavatsen Bend, then rafted down to Sebcia. Because of their position, the Aurolani could curve around and herd them back north to Fortress Draconis anytime they wanted to.

The question she faced was whether or not to let the refugees know the Aurolani had already come after them. Not only did the Aurolani pose an immediate threat to them, the import of the cavalry being detached and sent south would be clear to everyone. Since the cavalry would be largely useless inside the fortress, their being given this mission suggested Chytrine was having no problem with the troops left behind.

The fact that the dragon had not winged its way south to stop them belied that, but Alyx expected to see it at any point. She wasn’t certain whether or not Chytrine had ever intended to honor her pledge to let the refugees go, but that speculation was immaterial. The simple fact was that Chytrine had no reason to honor that pledge, so Alyx saw no harm in assuming she would renege on it. Letting them go had been a game, and clearly Chytrine had tired of it, therefore ending it.

She waited one more day before making her decision. In that time she was able to determine, to the best of her abilities, that two cavalry legions had been sent after the refugees. One consisted almost entirely of frostclaws, with vylaens to direct them. That unit had been broken down into companies that ranged forward of the line of march and served as the main body’s eyes. The other unit was heavy cavalry and thesullanciri Ganagrei was in command.

Against them she had six hundred troops, but only themeckanshü could be considered heavy infantry. The Oriosan Scouts would have been ideally suited to the fight, but two-thirds of them had remained behind in Fortress

T

Draconis. While the soldiers who filled out the Scouts’ ranks were game and had their families to defend, they weren’t well versed in fighting through light woodlands.

In fact, the only thing Alyx had going for her was terrain. The road south wound through forested hills that provided some wonderful defensive positions. Peri scouted ahead and picked out a perfect spot for them to make a stand. Two streams carved a flat-topped, lozenge-shaped hill that was large enough to hold the refugees. They stopped prematurely and immediately set about digging in and throwing up breastworks. The troops moved out to the west and south, taking up positions on the hillsides beyond the streams. The single genuine Scout company pushed further on and a bit north, finding a spot they could defend easily. Themeckanshü formed the heart of her line, with the other Scouts to the south, and the assorted troops and irregulars to the northern flank.

Waiting there with themeckanshü as dusk fell, Alyx knew that if an attack were to come, it would be in the night because the Aurolani forces had the advantage in the dark. She needed to take that advantage away. She had her troops gather wood for bonfires behind their own positions, but she had to be careful because the forest was rather dry, and the prevailing wind was moving toward the east. Roasting her own people in a forest fire wasn’t something she wanted to do.

Visiting that same fate on the Aurolani, on the other hand, was something she would not mind at all. As the uppermost horn of the moon’s crescent arose in the east, Resolute, Crow, and a couple ofmeckanshü started a fire-line roughly five hundred yards to the east. Quickly enough the fire spread, roaring up over ancient pines with an orange hunger. Smoke poured east, borne on the breeze, and she imagined that if that didn’t get the attention of the Aurolani host, nothing would.

Back in the refugee camp Will checked his pouch of bladestars for the dozenth time. He’d not wanted to be left behind with the women and children, but Alyx had taken him aside and pointed out that because everyone knew the prophecy, his presence would stiffen the spines of those left behind. The fact that Kerrigan would remain as well made him feel a little better, and the way the fear in the eyes of some refugees lessened when he walked through helped even more.

An old infantry captain had been left in charge, though the two most able warriors present were Lombo and Dranae. Lombo squatted in the middle of everything, playing with children, while some parents lined the dirt piles rimming their hilltop. Dranae walked the line, speaking to everyone, smiling, laughing, and nodding reassuringly. His air of quiet confidence set everyone at ease. Back between the line and the children waited the rest of the parents, fingering spears, swords, daggers, and, in a few cases, big rocks.

Will wandered over to where Kerrigan nervously stood, alternately frowning into the darkness and looking down at his hands. The Adept hadn’t bothered to switch back to robes at Fortress Draconis and instead wore a melange of old pirate clothes and, next to his skin, a uniform tunic from Fortress Draconis.

The thief looked at him. “You have to get this right, you know, no mistakes.”

Kerrigan snarled. “I know!” His hands curled down into fists. “Can’t you leave me alone? Just go away.”

The Adept tried to turn away, but Will caught his arm and turned him back. “Hey, Keri, there’s no going away here.”

“Don’t call me Keri.”

Will snorted. “Look, you’re nervous, I’m nervous. We have a lot of people here counting on us. Counting on you, mostly, because you’re the one who has the big part to play.”

“I know how important it is.”

“Good. I want to make sure you’re here with us.”

“What does that mean?” Kerrigan’s face screwed up tight and he crossed his arms over his chest.

Will stepped in close and kept his voice low. “We get away from the pirates, the elves put you to work. On the ship to the fortress you’re quiet, not talking much except with the elves, then at the fortress you pretty much vanish until it’s time for us to go, then you spend all your time with the kids. You’ve been avoiding us—those of us who were with you at Wruona. I think that’s because you think we blame you for her dying.”

Kerrigan blinked. “You think what?”

The thief kept his voice low. “I don’t think it was your fault, nobody does. It wasn’t your fault at all. So you don’t need to be hiding or nothing anymore.”

The Adept raised his chin. “You think that’s what I’ve been doing?”

Will smiled. “Seems pretty obvious.”

“Does it?” The magicker’s eyes narrowed. “I hope you’re a good thief, because, as a mind reader, you’re really, really bad. That’s not what I’m thinking at all. I’m not hiding and I haven’t been hiding.”

“No? Why didn’t I see you around the fortress, then?”

Kerrigan hesitated. “I was sleeping. I was tired and sleeping.”

Will snorted. “Okay, sure, if you say so.” The thief backed away, opening his hands as firelight flared to the east. “Just as long as you’re with us now… andawake… that’s all that counts.”

The fire did provoke a reaction from the Aurolani host. Green magick shot from the darkness, suppressing flames, then vylaens rode through, with frostclaws following them. The temeryces galloped forward, bobbing almost comically on their powerful legs, then leaped toward themeckanshü positions, hissing and screaming furiously.

It seemed to Alyx to be somewhat less of a battle than a riot. Crow struck from behind a tree, shooting arrows as fast as he could. He shot at vylaens and those he missed often found one of Resolute’s bladestars buried in them. With their leaders falling, the frostclaws still attacked, but lacked cohesion. While more than capable of rending and tearing with their teeth and claws, they chose their targets by whatever criteria existed in their little minds, not with a goal toward rolling up a flank or breaking a formation.

The defensive preparations themeckanshü had made confounded the frostclaws. Some that leaped over the front line found themselves trapped in ropes and nets strung through tree branches. Others that soared past the warriors’ spear-points discovered the ground sown with sharpened wooden stakes that pierced haunches and bellies. The close-set trees did make it difficult for the stiff-tailed beasts to turn quickly, and, like as not, a nip at a soldier would get them a mouthful of metal, not flesh.

Themeckanshü fought demoniacally, slashing back at the temeryces with claws of their own. The fighting broke down into small knots of warriors thrusting and jabbing, or grappling and clawing. Alyx almost wished for Malarkex’s sword again, for it would have allowed her to revel in the violent chaos and throw herself completely into the fight. As it was, her blade sang, slashing throats, cutting off limbs, while frostclaws shredded her mail and eventually scored the flesh beneath it.

The light cavalry company did its job, for it engaged themeckanshü in time for a heavy cavalry company to come blasting through. The larger frostclaws and their riders leaped through the resurgent flames, undaunted and uncaring. Weaving through trees, they came swiftly, aiming their charge at where themeckanshü center had been driven back. Some riders did lean too far one side or the other and were blasted out of the saddle by a tree, and a few others did have their mounts falter and fall when they impaled themselves on the spikes. The majority of them, however, blew through the heart of thetneckanshü line and disappeared into the darkness.

Ganagrei did not. He reined his grand temeryx back, then snapped guttural orders at those riders who were engaged with themeckanshü. Out of the darkness whizzed a bladestar. It burst the big frostclaw’s left eye and sank a point into its brain. The creature convulsed hard, then leaped into the air and landed harder, before collapsing and sagging to the side.

Thesullanciri rolled to its feet, none too quickly nor with much agility, but it uncoiled its armored form, then reached down and tugged a double-bitted broadax from its saddle sheath. The weapon came up and around quickly, then flashed down, striking sparks from ameckanshifs metal arm as it mangled the limb beyond recognition.

Sallitt Hawkins whirled away, his twisted arm and the force of the blow spinning him to the ground. Thesullanciri raised the ax to kill him, but before the blow could fall, an arrow stabbed through Ganagrei’s right eye. The un-dead thing staggered back a step or two, allowing Hawkins to scramble to his feet. The damaged warrior cast about for anything he could use as a weapon.