Fortress Draconis (81 page)

Crow advanced and tossed him the silverwood bow. “Keep that for me.” The white-haired warrior then drew Tsamoc and the gem set in its forte glowed brilliantly, washing color into his beard and hair.

Ganagrei snarled and slashed at him, but Crow blocked the slow blow simply enough. The man cut to his left, then slashed Tsamoc at thesullancirfs stomach with a disemboweling blow. The Aurolani creature grunted and the armor glowed at the point of contact, but failed to part. Ganagrei backhanded Crow with a mailed fist, catching him between the shoulder blades and sending him sprawling.

Thesullanciri ‘s good eye glowed a gangrenous green as it stalked toward the downed man. Crow got back up quickly enough and parried another blow. He lunged, then tried to cut up into Ganagrei’s armpit, but the sword skittered harmlessly off the glowing armor.

Crow danced back as another slash tried to bisect him, then chopped his sword down, double-handed, on the creature’s forearm. Sparks flew argent from where Tsamoc caught thesullanciri’s armor. The blade traced a little silver scar on it and left a dent, but didn’t even come close to penetrating it. The dent glowed green, then the armor screeched as the metal resumed its original shape.

Alyx’s mouth went dry. Thesullanciri were vulnerable to magickal weapons. By fashioning magickal weapons for her generals, Chytrine made them formidable, but by enchanting armor for Ganagrei, she made him invincible.Tsamoc might be able to kill him, but first it has to cut him, and Crow can’t punch through that armor.

Again and again Crow struck at Ganagrei. A slash nearly severed a triangle of mail from thesullanciri’s mail coif, but the scrap swung back into place as the creature advanced and the rings interlocked in a green light. Thesullancirts blows, though ponderous and heavy, came closer and closer to striking home as Crow began to tire. The man parried many blows and sidestepped others, but one slash scored the flesh over his ribs, and a second laid open a stripe on his left thigh.

Crow began to retreat, glancing behind him as he did so. Drawing thesullanciri further from the battle, the man picked up speed in his withdrawal. The Aurolani creature came after him, moving faster. Ganagrei mumbled something unintelligible, then reached up and snapped the shaft of the arrow in half, casting it aside.

Alyx cut down a gibberer with a slash that parted upper jaw from lower and angrily thrust its body aside. She could only watch as Crow ran to a thick tree, put his back to it, and extended his sword in a thrust that would impale thesullanciri. Ganagrei laughed hoarsely as he figured out

Crow’s desperate ploy. Magickally armored as he was, he might be spitted on the sword, but he would certainly crush Crow.

Thesullanciri sped up. He pulled the ax back with his right hand and swept it in front of him in a parry meant to batter the sword out of line. Likely the precaution would have worked, but Crow had already pulled his blade back at the last second. The man cut to the right, clearly intent on letting thesullanciri batter itself against the tree, then finding a way to kill it.

The plan almost worked. Ganagrei crashed into the tree’s trunk with a hideous clang. Bark flew. Thesullanciri ‘s head hit so hard that the impact drove the remnant of the arrow through the back of its skull. The broadhead tented the mail coif, popping a few rings, which glowed furiously green as they attempted to reconnect around the arrowhead.

It would have worked, had Crow been quicker. The cut to his left leg meant he didn’t push off as strongly as intended, so when thesullanciri slammed into the tree, Crow’s leg remained trapped between it and the trunk. The man’s thigh and shin snapped more easily than the arrow had. Crow screamed and fell at the base of the tree, clawing at exposed roots to drag himself away as thesullanciri rebounded and tottered backward.

The creature’s breastplate showed full signs of the impact, with a cylindrical dent running from throat to waist. The metal groaned as a green magick washed over it in waves. Ganagrei arched his back as if that might help return the concave armor to its original convex form. With a final ping the armor righted itself, then thesullanciri looked about. The monster slowed, then deliberately oriented on Crow and his crooked leg.

“Crow, no!” Alyx shouted and threw her sword at thesullanciri. It clanged off his back, no damage done. Thesullanciri took no notice of the blow as it stooped and hefted its ax again. Alyx darted at the thing’s back, but knew she would never reach it in time, and had no idea what she would do if she did.

Luckily for her, it didn’t matter.

“Ganagrei!” Resolute’s voice cut through the battle din. “You’ve forgotten something!”

Thesullanciri turned toward the Vorquelf, his good eye searching for the threat the words implied. All Ganagrei saw was an elf with a stick in his right hand and a sword in his left. Had thesullanciri been capable of registering fear, that sight would have inspired none.

A blue glow illuminated one of the tattoos on Resolute’s right forearm. A heartbeat later the stick in his hand burst into flame. The fire made it readily apparent that what he held was more than just a stick, it was the back half of an arrow.

The other half of which lay buried in thesullanciris brain.

Flames jetted from Ganagrei’s nostrils as the undead creature clawed at its own face. The arrow’s shaft burned hot, bubbling steaming brains out thesullanciris ears. The fearsome creature danced awkwardly, like a man having taken a mouthful of very hot food, then tripped and fell, thrashing on the ground. Resolute stalked over to it and drove Syverce straight down through its forehead, twisted and yanked it free, leaving a little volcano erupting through the creature’s skull.

The night air carried the war cries of men and the piercing shrieks of the temeryces back to the camp without distortion or diminution. Will waited beside Dranae, feeling nervous and edgy. He couldn’t tell if the sound was getting closer or not, and peering out into a darkness virtually untouched by the distant fires did little for Will. Lombo barely flicked an ear in the direction of the fighting, but that didn’t help Will much, since the Panqui delighted in killing frostclaws with his bare hands.

When the Panqui finally stirred, Dranae shook the infantry captain’s shoulder. The man looked up, then called to Kerrigan. “Now, please, Adept.”

Over toward the south end of the line, Kerrigan raised a hand and waved it. A shower of sparks shot from his fingertips, each growing into a glowing blue-white ball about the size of a man’s head. They floated across the ravine toward the east, then lodged in the branches of the trees. They cast a harsh light that made for sharp shadows beneath the underbrush.

The light also made it easy to see the frostclaws moving through the forest. Will was glad of the light because he couldn’t hear them, especially above the gasps and wails of the people on the line. While other adults herded children to the other side of the camp, and many others formed a wall between the oncoming enemy and their offspring, the hundred or so people on the line prepared themselves and waited for the order they had been told would come.

Some of the frostclaws leaped from the far end, trying to reach the camp through the air, but the distance proved too great. Those creatures landed deep in the .ravine, scrabbling to gain purchase on the steep wall. They slid down toward the stream on a river of old leaves and fresh earth, but eventually checked their retreat and started to pick their way back up again. Their fellows, which had run down the far side, filled the gaps in their line and scaled the hillside.

Behind them came the heavy cavalry, starting a hurried descent.

Dranae nodded to the captain. “Now.”

“If you please,” came the man’s voice, loud though quivering a bit, “fire!”

As Crow had explained, a draconette might be inferior to a bow and arrow in terms of range and accuracy and the rate at which missiles could be shot, but it required little, if any, training. When they’d opened the weapons’ cache they’d discovered an ample store of the Draconis Baron’s early attempts at creating draconettes, along with firedirt and shot. None of the warriors on the trip had been members of fire companies—those men and women would never have left Fortress Draconis—but themeckanshüknew enough about the weapons to instruct people in their use.

The draconette irregulars rose and pointed their weapons downslope. Fingers tightened on triggers, slow-burning matches ignited dust, and the weapons fired in a ragged, smoky volley. Several did fail to discharge and two blew up, killing the shooters, but the rest performed admirably.

Shot ripped through frostclaws, filling the air with feathers and littering the ground with thrashing bodies. Wounded creatures screamed and clawed blindly in agony, rending hale and wounded fellows alike. Some frostclaws, though wounded, continued their scramble up the hill, while others that had gone untouched climbed ever closer to the top.

The heavy cavalry splashed through the stream. Dranae pointed to Kerrigan. “Now, Adept, now!”

The infantry captain gave Dranae a sour look because of the usurpation of his authority. Will noticed that, then shifted his gaze to where Kerrigan moved up to the top of their breastwork. He became a thick, black silhouette against one of the will-o‘-the-wisps, and swept his hand out with a near theatrical calm.

More sparks shot from his fingers, but these did not drift lazily and glow softly, they sizzled and plunged down into the smoke choking the little rift. In no time they reached their targets, and as instructed, everyone in the camp ducked for cover.

It had been readily apparent to Alexia that the draconetteers would get one volley. The chances of their being able to reload and shoot again in the midst of a battle were slender. Moreover, having shot flying around in the camp was just as likely to strike friend as foe, and was more likely to do so since there would be far fewer of the enemy.

Because the chances of a prolonged firefight were nil, themeckanshü filled three small casks with firedirt and shot, then buried them at the base of the eastern slope. Kerrigan’s sparks plunged burning into the earth, passed through the wood, and ignited the powder. The resulting explosion destroyed the casks, casting wood and earth about.

And spraying lots of shot up over the western side of the valley.

Crouched down with the others, all Will saw was a series of bright flashes, accompanied by sharp thunderclaps. Dirt rained down along with some smoldering leaves. As the explosions’ echoes faded, he caught more screams, more wails, but just enough war cries punctuated them that he knew the job hadn’t been finished.

People surged to the breastwork, and Will along with them. One Aurolani rider crested the breastwork and a half-dozen spears impaled its temeryx thigh and breast. The gibberer slashed with a longknife, notching one of the spear-hafts, then its mount went down and started to roll back into the ravine. The gibberer leaped free, but went down as someone twisted the spear between its legs. Swords and knives flashed, hands clutched at it and dragged it back where others tore it to pieces.

Will whirled bladestars at shadows moving through the smoke. Dranae stepped up beside him and shouldered a draconette. A mounted gibberer emerged from the smoke. Dranae fired and the ball dented the creature’s helmet. The rider pitched back off into the smoke while the grand temeryx cut across the slope and came up.

Its angled run brushed aside thrusting spears and it bore straight at Kerrigan. The magicker stared at the creature wide-eyed, but didn’t move. Will whipped a bladestar at it. The weapon grazed a leg, cutting it, but not delivering enough poison to drop it.

Lombo pounced on the rainbow frostclaw with the ease and delight of a cat attacking a wounded bird. The Panqui’s weight crushed the creature down. It shrieked furiously and turned its head back to bite him, but Lombo’s hand just circled its throat and squeezed. The shriek became a shrilled hiss that ended in a loud pop.

Others of the Aurolani heavy cavalry appeared on the far side of the ravine. They waited there, peering down into the smoke-filled valley, trying to decide if they should ride down or not. Lombo picked up the big frostclaw and hurled it at them, but the beast didn’t quite make it. A couple of spears arced over, but did no damage, then Kerrigan pointed his finger and cast a spell that exploded an oak tree, peppering them with burning splinters.

The riders quickly took off to the south and soon sounded distant trumpet calls. Will wasn’t certain what they signified until he saw one gibberer crawling his way out of the ravine to the south.

Dranae, who had reloaded his draconette by then, ended the gibberer’s flight with a single shot. The smoke below had begun to thin and as Will looked down, he kind of wished it hadn’t. The twitching, and the way it made the ground look as if it were alive, or at least dying slowly, bothered him more than the painful cries.

He glanced over at Kerrigan. “Can you stop the light?”

“Our survivors need a way to find us.”

“Then leave one, or string the others further away.” He pointed down into the pit. “If any of the children look, it might give them nightmares.”

The magicker moved to the top of the breastwork and looked down, then recoiled and would have fallen save that Will stepped up and steadied him. “Yes, you’re right, Will.” He gestured and the lights sailed out toward the east. “No one needs the memory of seeing that.”

f]eneral Markus Adrogans handed thearcanslata to the I -j signal mage who had brought it to him. “Please ac-VJ knowledge the message without comment.‘

The mage bowed and left the Jeranese military leader standing there with Phfas and Beal mot Tsuvo in the dawn light. He looked at both of them, then slowly shook his head. “Four days ago Chytrine allowed about two thousand Oriosans and noncombatants to head south from Fortress Draconis. There is no word on their fate. According to the last messages from Fortress Draconis, the Aurolani have entered the fortress.”

Beal paled. “Fortress Draconis has fallen?”

“It appears so.”

“And word of Princess Alexia?”