The Chronicles of Lumineia: Book 02 - The Gathering (18 page)

BOOK: The Chronicles of Lumineia: Book 02 - The Gathering
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Anders snorted.
“You owe me five silver for that one.” Then his voice softened. “And thanks for
coming to find me.”

The sudden
sound of tearing cloth caused Gaze to look down and see the prince ripping the
sleeve off his tunic. Before he could protest Anders lifted his arm and began
wrapping another layer. Growling, Gaze clamped his teeth against the pain and
tried not to cry out. A moment later the pressure eased the pain and he sat up.

Looking around
at the carnage he asked, “How many did we lose?”

Anders shook
his head. “I’m not sure, but I would say . . . almost half.”

“They killed
half
?!”
Gaze asked. “There couldn’t have been more than a couple hundred of them!”

“I know,”
Anders exclaimed, worry stealing into his voice.

Gaze tried to
fight against the hopelessness that threatened to overwhelm him. Two hundred
and fifty experienced cavalry had been taken down by two hundred fiends—when
they were outnumbered—and there were millions more.
How can we possibly win?
He thought, but a splash of red distracted him.

“Anders,
you’re injured!” Gaze said and was instantly on his feet.

The prince
winced as he lifted up the armor on his thigh to reveal a bite mark that had
penetrated both the chain link and the leather. Fortunately it wasn’t too deep,
and Gaze cleansed it with water from his sack. To his credit, the prince didn’t
make a sound until Gaze poured some alcohol into the wound.

“Ow! What was
that for?” the prince demanded.

“I don’t want
it to get infected, and the drink will help with that,” Gaze said, and tore off
a strip of his own clothing to tie a bandage. “I don’t think you want to risk
any infection that might come from these things.”

Anders winced
again as Gaze tightened the strip, then said heartily, “I can’t dispute that.
Now let’s go take care of the wounded.”

Gaze agreed,
coughing through the smoke that had begun to drift in their direction. “I’ll go
find some cloth and more water and ale.”

Anders nodded
his head, but before he could leave the king called out, “I need two volunteers
for a dangerous mission, preferably fast riders.”

“What’s your
father doing?” Gaze asked, but Anders just shrugged.

After a
moment’s hesitation, several men stepped forward in answer to his call and the king
selected two. “I want you to go south. Circle around the fire and get over the
hills to Orláknia. Get it burning at all costs. There is no way anyone could
reach the forest on the northern end, so it will be up to you.”

“But that’s a
suicide mission,” Gaze gasped, keeping his voice low so just the prince would
hear. “Orláknia is miles east of here—and deep in enemy territory now. They
will cut them down long before they can accomplish their mission.”

Anders spoke
with no emotion in his voice, “But it would delay them for days. The dark
forest is immense, much larger than that strip of trees you just lit.”

Gaze shook his
head but he couldn’t argue with the prince’s logic. It also explained why the
king had asked for volunteers instead of issuing orders. Each of the men that
had stepped forward knew what they were riding into, and they were doing it
anyway, to give their brethren a small chance to survive. He shuddered at the supreme
courage being displayed by these two men, and wondered if their sacrifice would
ultimately make a difference. As he watched the two men ride away from the
battlefield, he prayed fervently that it would.

All their
lives might depend on it.

 

 

Chapter
14: Rising Walls

 

 

Over two weeks
had passed since Braon had appointed Newhawk, and all the men and women that
had arrived were already placed into strategic commands. The druid leader had
been a godsend, and under his charismatic leadership a firm organizational
structure had been implemented. Even as the last of the Griffin refugees were
placed and humans from the southern kingdom of Talinor began to arrive, Newhawk
incorporated them into their defensive plan according to Braon’s instructions.
Few of the arrivals knew of the young man’s role, but every person benefited
from his guidance, and the six battalions along the cliff and Lake Road were
beginning to take shape. The framework had been laid, and not a day before
another race arrived.

Braon watched
from the battlements as the massive dwarven caravan wound its way towards the
city. More than ten thousand had already appeared and he’d been informed that
more than a hundred thousand dwarves would be there within the week. Heavy
footfalls behind him caused him to turn and find a dwarf walking towards him
with Newhawk at his side. About Braon's height, the dwarf carried a wide battle
axe and wore high quality armor. A long black beard fell from the dwarf’s chin
and had been braided and tied.

Mentally Braon
smiled, satisfied with what he saw. The dwarf was ordered, and would be of high
rank. His firm expression as he approached showed he was determined.
A good
leader
, Braon thought,
maybe even one of my generals
.

Stopping in
front of the young man, the dwarf evaluated him before grunting. “Braon, I’ve
been told that you are our commander.” His voice scratched in a deep gravelly way
as he reached out to clasp Braon’s hand.

Resisting the
impulse to wince at the stone grip, Braon smiled. “Welcome to the gathering. I
have been told that most of your nation is coming.”

The dwarf
nodded. “All except the commander of the northern defenses and fifteen hundred
from his battalion. They will remain to direct any more allies towards us and
shut the gates if anything else comes that way.”

Braon accepted
the report with a curt nod. “What is your name and rank?”

“Onix,” the
dwarf answered, “High Captain of the southern defenses and first stratum of the
engineering guild.”

Braon’s
eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I was under the impression that soldiers didn’t
gain ranks in the Stratas.”

Onix’s lips
cracked into a grin under his beard and he snorted. “You are well informed for
a human, and correct. Soldiers don’t learn engineering, but engineers are
allowed to transfer to the army if their clan grants special consideration.”

Braon’s mind
whirled at all the implications of Onix’s statement. Only a great warrior would
be allowed to shift occupations, and the fact that the dwarf in front of him
had become a first stratum revealed even more. Smart, ordered, and a good
warrior would be a deadly mixture as a general.

“Onix,” Braon
began, “where is the king?”

“I believe he
has not departed our homeland. It was his desire to make sure the evacuation
ran smoothly, and sent me ahead to prepare for our people’s arrival.”

Braon nodded
and with a sweep of his hand invited Onix to walk down the stairs with him.
“There are a few things I would like to talk to you about. Will you walk with
me to our command center? Newhawk will see to your people’s arrival.”

Onix
hesitated, but fell into step beside Braon, who began as soon as they reached
the Ninth Tier. “There are several things that we desperately need for our
defenses that I hope your dwarves can help with.”

“What do you need?”
Onix asked in his rough voice.

“Allow me to show
you,” Braon said and led the dwarf into the House of Runya. He guided him
through the now familiar corridors and into his command center. While it still
felt like a tree house resting at the top of the great tree, complete with a
brilliant sky in the ceiling, there were now people and desks all over the
room.

“Many of them
are Magi making a map so we can see the battle from here,” Braon explained and
led Onix into his office. Instead of sitting, he walked over to a small stone
desk that he’d had placed on the side of the room. He’d created a model of
various bulwarks and battle formations representing the Giant’s Shelf. Along its
edge, he had one of the water mages create some specific defensive structures
with a magical ice that didn’t melt.

Turning around
he asked, “Do you mind if I get right to the point?”

After Onix
agreed he pointed at the model. “According to the Oracle, we have less than
four weeks before Draeken’s army arrives. For us to be prepared in time, there
are several things that need to be built, and I believe the dwarves will be
able to accomplish it better than any other race.”

Without
waiting for a response he continued, pointing at the various models on the
desk. “The primary concern is the walls. We need to finish the defensive
barricades along the cliff. If possible, we need to construct several walls and
gates on the Lake Road.”

Onix frowned
and swept a hand at the models. "Do you intend to defend the entire
plateau?"

"Yes. We
must draw as much as we can away from our vulnerable points." Pointing at
each in turn he said, "The deep, the city, and the Lake Road."

Onix snorted.
“Our people built this city boy, and it is not vulnerable.”

“That’s not
what I mean,” Braon said, hoping he hadn't offended the dwarf. “If the city is
breached, our entire defenses will be lost. It is the center of our command,
and is by far the strongest and most defensible location. However, the Oracle
told us that the best we could hope to survive is seven days.”

Onix’s head
snapped back and he blinked in confusion. “How could anyone defeat Azertorn?” he
asked. “It is the strongest citadel ever constructed.”

“And that is
the
only
reason why we will last so long. It is vital that we prepare
every possible defense against the fiend army.”

Onix dipped
his head and sighed, a sound that rumbled in his chest. “As you say, but so far
the things you have told me aren’t too difficult. Even a human could construct
the walls.”

“Not the way I
want you to build them.”

For the first
time Onix’s eyes sparked with interest and he cocked his head. “The Oracle was
right about you, wasn’t she?” he said.

“That depends
on what she said.”

Onix bellowed
a deep rumbling laugh and said, “Fine, now tell me the rest so I can get to
work.”

Grateful for
the dwarf’s support, Braon pointed to one of the walls along the cliff. “I need
the cliff barricade to be built in a very specific way. Every hundred feet
there need to be two ballistae next to each other that point
down
the
cliff. They need to be secured in a way that the enemy cannot easily break them
off. In between the ballistae posts I want a long pendulum constructed. It
needs to have a chain about eighty feet in length, and fashioned of sharp
metal. The end can be whatever you deem best, but it needs to be heavy.”

Onix’s stone
face cracked again into a wide grin. “You plan on using the pendulum to knock
them off if they are climbing.” He laughed again and with a trace of anticipation
exclaimed, "You know that type of siege machinery has never been built
before—but I know some dwarves that could create it. Anything else?”

“I want the
walls on the road built with porous material towards the front, and then backed
by stronger stone. No matter how hard they hit it won’t crumble. Instead their
weapons will sink into the wall like it was . . . cheese. Eventually they will
cut their way through, but this will slow them down. From the description of
the enemy, they will be strong. Anything brittle will be crushed, so we have to
think smarter.”

Onix snorted
again and prompted, “And?”

“If your stone
mages are good, I want them to do two things. One is to create a series of
tunnels running from the back of Azertorn to various locations outside the
city. They will be a means of sending men back and forth, as well as striking
behind their lines if they surround the city, or as means of escape if we are
defeated. Also, along the cliff face I want your stone magi to burrow down and
create sections of the cliff that can explode outward.

“Last, there
is a section of the cliff in The Deep that dips to eight hundred feet.” He
pointed to the corresponding place on the model. “We need a wall filling it up
to match the height of the plateau, and painted so it looks like the rest of
the cliff. Then construct a system at the top of the slope that will allow us
to dump tar or pitch into the depression. Our first defense will be the
illusion that it is not a weakness. If it is discovered and breached, we will
pour pitch and burn it. Hopefully it will be a sufficient deterrent."

Onix was
shaking his head so Braon stopped. “I have to admit I doubted the Oracle, boy,
but you are everything she said and more. Who would have thought a fifteen-year-old
human would be my commanding officer.”

Braon allowed
a small smile. “I was hoping you’d say that, Onix, because I also need you to
be one of my generals.”

Onix grunted
and eyed him. “Where?”

Pointing to
the model just west of the city, he said, “You will be the general over the
West Falls battalion. It will be your responsibility to organize and train any
people that I send your way, as well as communicate with me what you need. Most
of your command will be your own people, but some humans are there already.
This is to give Newhawk and me versatility as we lead the defenses through you.”
His voice became formal as he asked, “Do you accept your new rank, General?”

Onix
straightened and exclaimed, “Yes, Commander.”

Braon smiled
and said, “Congratulations. Let me get your Link.”

The dwarf
raised an eyebrow at him but Braon didn’t explain. Instead he opened the door
and called for Thacker. When the man stepped into view, he said, “Summon Brynn.”

He nodded in
response and left the office. Braon returned to his desk, picked up a piece of
parchment, and scribbled a note on it. Just as he put it down Thacker’s fiery
brunette daughter burst into the room.

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