Soul Seeker (The World of Lasniniar Book 1) (12 page)

“Very well, very well. I’ve said my piece. And I suppose you may even come in handy on the journey. But don’t say you haven’t been warned. Now, if you don’t mind, I have one last question for you.”

Linwyn raised a single eyebrow in suspicion. “Yes?”

“Which way to the kitchens?”

–
Chapter Eleven –

The Element of Surprise

Iarasinta returned that afternoon. Iarion was walking the parapets with Barlo when the summons came. The dark army camp surrounding the city had pulled back out of bowshot since his group’s arrival. Elf and dwarf followed the page back to the meeting room, where the others were already waiting. Iarion noticed Linwyn giving him a strange look as he entered. He glanced over at Barlo to see if he had noticed. Barlo shrugged before sitting.

“Now that you are all here, we can learn what news has arrived,” Lord Eranander said.

Iarasinta rose and began to speak. The
Sintadain
looked tired. “I have delivered your message to Dwarfhaven. They will answer your summons.” Iarion translated for the others.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” he heard Barlo mutter.

Iarasinta ignored the interruption. “After I delivered your message, I flew a circuit over the Southern Passage to scout the enemy army. Their force is some twenty thousand. They have two Forsworn Ones with them.”

“We were already aware of their presence,” Lysandir said in Elvish with a nod. He wore a thoughtful look. “There are only two?”

“Most certainly. Although why you would say ‘only’ when mentioning the Forsworn, I do not know.” Iarasinta shook his head and took a deep breath before continuing. “They are breaking camp and preparing to march. They will attack Belierumar tonight.”

“Then we have only a few hours to prepare,” Lysandir said, gnawing his lip in thought. “Where are the Forsworn located?”

“They remain at the rear. I believe they want to throw their army at you first to break down your defenses before they arrive to complete their victory.”

“They have no way of knowing we are already aware of their presence.” Lysandir finally noticed the
Sintadain
’s weary state. “Thank you for your aid. Get some food and rest.”

Lord Eranander summoned a servant to see to Iarasinta’s needs as Iarion summed up the conversation in the Common Tongue for the others. They blanched at the news.

Once the Sky Elf had left and Iarion finished his translation, Lord Eranander faced the group. “What can we do to prepare for this attack?”

“The dark army outnumbers our forces, but they do not know we are aware of their plans,” Lysandir said. “We must use this to our advantage. We can lure them in, and take them by surprise. We must take down as many of them as we can in the first strike. Once we have lost the element of surprise, we will have no choice but to hold them off until reinforcements arrive.”

“We have a Learnéd One with us,” Linwyn said. “Can you not use your powers to thin their ranks?” She gave Lysandir a pointed look.

Lysandir shook his head. “The Forsworn still do not know I am here. My presence must remain a secret until they attack, thinking the day is won. Still, there is something I can do. Lord Eranander, have your men bring me all your torches.”

“It shall be done,” Lord Eranander said with a puzzled expression.

“Is there any secret way out of the city?” Iarion asked.

Lord Eranander frowned. “An ancient aqueduct tunnel runs under the wall to the River of Sorrow on the west side of the city. It leads to a small footpath into the mountains, but we always have a watch set over the passage, just in case.”

“I am not concerned about anyone making their way in,” Iarion said. “I want to leave the city unseen. I will circle around and use hit-and-run attacks from the Barrier Mountains to add to the confusion.”

“I go where you go,” Barlo was quick to put in. “You’ll need someone to watch your back and my ax has a craving for goblin blood.”

Iarion smiled. Although he had known Barlo would insist on joining him, he was glad to hear his friend’s words.

“Golaron and I will lead the men from the front gate,” Linwyn said. Golaron nodded his agreement.

“What can I do?” Silvaranwyn asked in her soft voice.

“You should stay on the wall and lead the archers,” Golaron said, surprising everyone with his sudden speech.

“No.” Linwyn’s eyes narrowed as she held her brother’s gaze. She turned to face Silvaranwyn. “You will ride with me. My mount can carry us both. You can keep the dark creatures from my back with that bow of yours as I lead the charge. Besides, our archers already have a leader, and I do not think talking to birds will help us win a battle.” Linwyn seemed pleased with her solution. Silvaranwyn could do nothing but agree.

“We have a lot of work to do and not much time,” Lysandir said. “Barlo and Iarion, you must set out as soon as you are ready if you are going to be in position. Come see me before you leave. The rest of us will meet here at sunset.”

Iarion and Barlo waited in their hiding place in the Barrier Mountains, watching the terrain below. They had been led through the aqueduct tunnels under the city to an iron door with a grate at the bottom, which allowed the water to flow through.

Although Belierumar had a fresh spring within its walls, the River of Sorrow provided additional fresh water to the city. The grate was only sealed in times of war. None of the men who guarded the tunnels remembered the last time such a thing had happened.

The sun was sinking. Iarion continued to watch the Lower Daran Nunadan below them for any sign of activity, as he had for the last hour. Barlo was using a whetstone to smooth the nicks from the blade of his ax. The rough sound of stone grating on metal was a promise of the battle to come.

Iarion found himself glad that only Barlo had come with him. He liked the others well enough, but he was unaccustomed to being around so many people all the time. Even among his own kind, Iarion was considered a solitary creature. Having Barlo with him took him back to days long past when they had traveled the midlands together.

Iarion shook his head to clear the memories and focused once more on the land below. It wouldn’t be long now. A flicker of shadow from the east caught his eye. Something moved in the Southern Passage. He crouched and signaled Barlo to join him.

The dwarf shuffled to his side. “Here they come,” he said. “How will we know when it’s time to strike?”

“We’ll know.”

“Are you sure we can trust this plan of Lysandir’s?”

“It’s all we have.” Iarion shrugged.

Below them to the west of the approaching army, the city of Belierumar was completely dark. Not a single torch was lit. Although Iarion knew the city’s army was waiting just outside the gate, dressed in gray and black, even he was hard-pressed to see them. They had slipped out of the city in the growing twilight. The approaching army, at home in the coming darkness, bore no torches of their own. Iarion gestured to Barlo. It was time for them to get into position. They would have to be ready to take advantage of Lysandir’s plan.

Elf and dwarf crept down the mountainside. Barlo loosed his ax and Iarion pulled his knife from his belt. The dark creatures were right below them. Both Iarion and Barlo wore dark clothing, and Iarion’s silver hair was hidden beneath the hood of his gray cloak. Iarion held his breath and waited for the crucial moment. He could sense Barlo crouched and tense behind him.

The enemy force was mostly goblins, but there were some ogres and the odd troll as well. The arriving creatures seemed pleased to find Belierumar dark and unguarded. They massed on the plain, joining the force already camped there, preparing to attack.

One of the trolls was about to blow a great horn, signaling the army’s advance, when the moment Iarion had been waiting for finally arrived. A sudden flare of light erupted from the city and its surroundings, almost as bright as day. Linwyn had lit her torch. Lysandir had placed a subtle spell on all the torches in the city so they would flare to life once Linwyn’s was lit.

The dark creatures cowered, momentarily blinded. Linwyn’s battle cry echoed across the Lower Daran Nunadan as she led her people into battle. Each of the horsemen who followed her bore a torch of their own. It was time.

Iarion leaped into the fray, taking advantage of the confusion, using it to strike down the troll with the horn. Barlo wasn’t far behind him. Iarion became a blur of motion as he spun and twisted to meet each new opponent with his blade. The dark creatures were slow to react. They were still befuddled by the unnatural light. Barlo laughed and sang as he chopped down one enemy after the other. But their advantage of surprise could only last for so long.

The dark creatures’ eyes became accustomed to the light. They soon realized there were only two enemies attacking them and organized themselves to face them down. Linwyn and her riders were still far away.

“Fall back!” Iarion cried to his friend in Dwarvish. It wouldn’t do for the creatures to understand him.

It was time for them to seek refuge in the mountains once more. He turned to make certain his friend was following him as he fought his way to safety. He ran on light feet over the rocks and ducked behind a large boulder, waiting in the shadows. Barlo huffed past moments later with several goblins at his heels. But the dark creatures no longer had the advantage of open ground.

Iarion lunged out of hiding and cut down a surprised goblin that was about to catch up with Barlo. The dwarf turned to join him in finishing off the other goblins that had followed. They made quick work of it. Soon the rocks were littered with bloodied goblin corpses. Iarion and Barlo waited for more to arrive, but it seemed the rest of the army was preoccupied with Linwyn’s attack.

Iarion moved forward in a crouch, hiding in the shadows of the mountainside as he drew his bow. He and Barlo could still create chaos among their enemies. He nocked and aimed at a nasty-looking troll. He let out a sigh as he loosed the arrow, which sped toward its target. The arrow found its mark. The lumbering creature cried out and clutched at its wounded eye with a large hand.

This was what Iarion had been waiting for. A second arrow landed inside the creature’s open maw, embedding itself into its brain. The troll stumbled and slowly fell to the ground like a giant tree, crushing several of the trolls and goblins marching beside it. The creatures that remained standing looked at their fallen companion in confusion, unable to discern what had slain him.

Barlo went down the trail to lure more of the creatures into the mountains. Iarion smiled at the sound of his friend’s battle cries and the whistle of his swinging ax. The Marred Races were not intelligent creatures. Time and again, Barlo taunted them into chasing him, only to cut them down. It was unwise to engage a dwarf in combat when he was in the mountains with his ax.

Arrows flew from Iarion’s bow, each finding their target in the masses below. He sang to himself in Elvish as he took each shot. He could see Linwyn’s forces plowing through the disorganized army. The battle had turned in their favor. Perhaps this siege wouldn’t be much of a delay after all.

Iarion’s skin went cold. His hands broke out in a sudden sweat and his bow slipped from his grasp. A huge shadow, darker than night, passed overhead, making him want to cower. The Forsworn had arrived. Barlo fought on, oblivious of the coming doom. It took several moments for him to notice Iarion’s reaction. He looked up to the sky. Seeing the two Forsworn Ones heading for the battlefield, he rushed to Iarion’s side and gave him a shake.

“Iarion! Snap out of it! We have to do something. Look!” He pointed to the battlefield below. The tide of the battle had turned once more. The dark creatures surged forward under the presence of their terrible generals. The Forsworn were approaching Linwyn’s forces. The torches that had seemed so bright only moments before dimmed. Soon they would reach the city.

Iarion tore his eyes from the darkness in the sky. Barlo passed him his bow. Iarion put it away and drew his knife instead.

“We need to get to Linwyn and the others,” he said. “There is nothing more we can do here. Now that the Forsworn have arrived, it will become a siege once more.”

“There’s a lot of them between us and the others,” Barlo said. “Do you think we can make it?”

“We must.”

“Well, never let it be said there was a battle an elf would dive into where a dwarf wouldn’t follow!” Barlo said, followed by a mutter Iarion barely made out. “Even if the elf is suicidal.”

Iarion raised his hood and led the way back down the mountain. At first, they were ignored by the sea of dark creatures around them, who failed to notice two strangers in their midst.

Iarion slid his knife between the ribs of the creatures standing closest to him and continued his way through the enemy army. Once several of the creatures had fallen dead to the ground, it was time to run.

The creatures surged forward to attack. Iarion threw back his hood and spun into action. Barlo chopped through the crowd alongside him. Even though Iarion only fought with a long knife, he was faster and more agile than his opponents. He ducked and weaved around their advances until he found the openings he needed. He and Barlo gradually carved out a path that led to the warriors of Belierumar.