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Authors: Christopher Rowley

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BOOK: The Dragons of Argonath
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The emperor raised a hand and then introduced Thorn, as the man in charge of the fighting.

"Thorn has my utmost confidence. He has seen more fighting than any of us."

Thorn flicked a glance across the street to where Relkin was helping his dragon get the unfamiliar leather armor on. Thorn wondered if they oughtn't to be placing the dragonboy in charge on that basis.

"It's simple, friends. They intend to fire the town and then assault us again," Thorn said. "We need to organize ourselves quickly. We need a force to hold the barricade, but we need men to guard the houses along the street fronting on the green, for the enemy will try and come through them."

Farmer Pigget had ridden up and dismounted. When told the emperor himself was there, his big, round face had gone pink with amazement. He was introduced to Thorn and suggested that they signal to the riders bunched at the north end of the common that they should attack the imps massed on the common. When the riders charged, the men and dragons would break out from the barricade and advance. With a little luck they could panic the imps and drive them from the field. Imps were notoriously unstable, and a sudden shock could break them.

Thorn agreed. A rider was sent galloping up Schoolhouse Street to Temple Lane, where a right turn brought him to the north end of the green. The men from the farms were massed there, at least thirty strong, and most had a weapon of some sort to hand.

The message was received, and Birch blew a sharp pair of notes to signal their agreement. Then the riders moved out onto the green. Ahead of them was a two-hundred-yard stretch of flat ground to the first trees and bushes of the common. The enemy was clumped along Brennans Road and in the fringe of bushes where the common met the green.

The horns at the barricade signaled that the men there were ready. Farmer Birch raised his horn, blew the charge, and away they went. Quickly their horses sped to a gallop, and they were flying along, thirty men on horseback, swords in the air as they rode toward the imp masses.

Now the force at the barricade gave a shout and surged forward, ignoring the arrows that fell among them. They charged over the barricade and into Brennans Road, sweeping past the shattered front of the Bull and Bush and over the corner and into the imps.

The battle broke out along the line of impact with a savage, hacking fury: imp sword and shield against all manner of weapons in the hands of the men of Quosh. Then the dragons lumbered up, with arrows sticking out of their armor and shields, and the imps broke and tumbled back rather than face dragonsword.

But there were the bewks, the new monsters of the enemy to contend with, and though smaller than trolls, they were significantly bigger than men and almost as quick as men. They formed a line, swords ready to engage the dragons. Their faces were those of giant pigs, with sharp staring eyes. They clashed their shields against one another and uttered a communal roar.

The dragons came on with a will, and the men behind them shouted "Argonath!" as they drove in against the beasts. Immediately huge swords flashed in the late afternoon sun and terrible blows rang across the green.

The young leatherback Weft clove a creature in half in the first moments. To his right the other leatherback, Fury, parried a blow and then smashed a bewk down with his shield, trod on it, and drove home his sword. Next in line, Zambus knocked aside more swords and spears and cleared a rank of imps, sending heads and shoulders asunder from their torsos.

Bazil, now wearing hastily donned leather armor on shoulders and belly, with a worn but serviceable shield on his arm, tore into the line with Ecator flashing on high. Several of the creatures engaged, and Ecator wove between their swords, while Bazil used the shield to parry some strokes and worked to heave the bewks back. They were devilish, strong brutes for their size, and it was quite as difficult as it was with trolls. Worse still was their speed, which was the equal of his own. It made it hard to engage more than two at a time, and even that was difficult. These monsters knew well how to wield a sword. It soon became apparent that the dragons were outmatched, the bearlike bewks were just too numerous and too well trained.

Just when the tide seemed sure to turn against the men and dragons, the horns of the horsemen blew sharp and clear, and they came thundering down into the imps on the right of the enemy array.

The imps did not panic, however, for now on the common came more horns. But those of Padmasa and a troop of forty imp riders broke out of cover and galloped onto the green, crashing into the farmers' flank.

The imps steadied, turned in their place, and put their spear butts to the ground, holding them like pikes. The farm boys had no idea how to deal with this, and while they struggled to turn their horses around the imps struck them from the side. Several went down at the first shock. Elvyn Birch fell then, an imp sword in his side, blood gushing from his mouth. In moments a whirling melee developed as imp and farmer went at it from the saddle.

Now the imps on foot took up their spears and started thrusting at the farmers and their horses. In a moment they took more victims. Young Phelan Birch died then, spitted from behind. And Ginais, one of Birch's old tenant farmers, was brought off his horse when the poor brute was hamstrung from behind. On the ground Ginais fared poorly, and the imps hewed off his head and stuck it on a spear.

On the other front of the fighting, the battle had swung farther over, for the main mass of imps had steadied behind the line of bewks. A quick round of black drink had been passed around them, and now they came back, moving through between the ranks to assail the men and dragons.

Overwhelmed and out of breath, old Zambus was speared and forced to retreat; blood poured from his belly. Weft too was wounded and wounded again as he struggled to extricate himself. He emerged with a spear thrust through his tail. The bearlike creatures snarled and roared and thrust forward. Their swords beat down on the dragons and men like hail upon the wheat. A dozen men fell then, and with them fell Fury, cut down by a bewk and then decapitated by another. His head soon rose above the yelling horde of imps. Now the imps were heartened immensely by the death of a dragon, their greatest enemy, and they came on with wild abandon.

There was nothing to be done but to give ground and return to the relative strength of the barricade. Giving ground became a rout, and they fled in disorder for the barricade at the mouth of Market Street, beside the old Bull and Bush, which was on fire now, flames visible in the thatch. The imps took a toll, harrying them from behind and cutting down many a man before he reached safety. Last of all came the dragons, hewing their way out of the swarming imps and bewks.

The wagons were held apart until the dragons were through, Zambus staggered and collapsed once he was through. The female dragons hauled the wagons shut with a crash, and piled up the barricade again. The men of Quosh had to rally themselves and form a stout front behind the barricade, for the imps came on now with a harsh shout and charged up onto the wagons, clambering over the barrels and crates and pitched into the men on the line. Behind them came the stolid masses of bewks, huge and ominous. The battle flared up more fiercely than ever.

Parts of the roof of the old Bull and Bush were collapsing as the fire took hold. All along the Brennans Road the houses were ablaze, and a vast pillar of black smoke was rising into the sky.

 

Chapter Sixteen

The fighting hung there in the balance, poised over the barricade under the flashing swords and axes as the men of the village fought for their lives. Central to the struggle were the remaining dragons: Bazil, the big females, and Weft, who was still fighting, despite his tail. The bearlike creatures could only come at them a few at a time because of the constriction of the street, so the dragons had the classic advantage of defenders of a narrow space. With Ecator and Weft's sword "Diune," they also had an advantage in reach of a foot or more, and they used that as much as possible while fighting over the width of the wagons.

The females fought with the long spears from the Dragon House, stabbing across the wagons whenever bewks or imps tried to mount up on the far side.

To help protect the dragons, Relkin had hurriedly organized a squad of men and youths with swords, one with a spear. Any imps that got through the line and broke out behind the dragons had to be slain at once before they could stab the dragons from the rear.

That's how they started out, but things soon grew more desperate. Relkin found himself in the thick of hard fighting as he moved from group to group, wherever the imps seemed on the point of breaking through. Smoke from the burning buildings cloaked everything and made it hard to see.

Some imps wormed their way through the stuff jammed in beneath the wagons. Others stormed over the wagons, risking the dragonswords and hurling themselves onto the line of weary men that stood on the other side. That line broke more and more easily as the men of the village, civilians used to a comfortable life, died on imp swords and spears.

The dragonboy and his ad hoc crew were too busy to really take care of the dragons as they worked in front of them, battling imps that had gotten through the line.

Ecator hummed through the air above their heads with a heart-stopping quality. Relkin kept shouting to the Quosh boys to keep their heads down, but they hadn't the training, and he knew sooner or later someone would lose his head as a result. Bazil didn't have time to worry about them, he was dueling hard with the new trolls, the bewks of Waakzaam on the other side of the wagon. They kept trying to mount the wagon or break it apart, and they had to be stopped.

An imp wriggled out from a space beneath a wagon and got to his feet just as Relkin tackled him from behind and brought him down. The imp twisted under him like a huge greased eel. It stank of filth and sweat, and wriggled around and struck at him with a thin black dagger.

Relkin jerked his upper body aside and felt the dagger slide along his ribs. He cut down with the edge of his hand and knocked it away while he brought his sword across and drove it through the imp's throat. Another imp landed on his back, and he twisted desperately to break the grip around his neck. He caught a wrist as it came down with a knife meant for his neck, and struck out blindly and caught the imp in the belly. It fell with a groan, and he sprang back onto his feet in time to deflect a spear driving at him and then run his sword through its wielder. More imps, Bazil had missed some since he was fighting two of the bear-creatures now. Relkin caught one by the foot and jerked it off the wagon. A big lad from Quosh named Derri was there to finish it with a sledgehammer. Another imp kicked away Relkin's sword, and there was a hard blow to the head that made him see stars. Another imp fell on him, but Derri caught the imp by the back of the neck and smote it with his hammer. Relkin was back on his feet, still a little blurred, but fighting without conscious thought, purely by training and instinct. An imp with a sword held high came at him, but he caught the arm, dug his hip into the imp, and tossed it over his shoulder. It bounced off another imp and both fell to the street. Bazil stepped on one, and Derri hammered the other.

Then Derri gave a soft groan, staggered, and sat down. A pair of arrows had suddenly sprouted in his chest. His young eyes went very wide, and he slid back, quietly going into oblivion.

Relkin had no time to say a word to the dying youth. He ducked a sword sweep, felt a hard punch land in his ribs, and then a shield rammed his chest and knocked him back a step. He bounced off the dragon's leg and went down on his hands and knees. The imp launched itself, spear first, but Ecator flashed and took its head and shoulders. Relkin had time to pick up his sword, lurch back onto his feet, and parry a sword thrust from an imp that had wriggled under the wagon. He punched the imp in the face. When it staggered back for a moment, Relkin took the opportunity to run it through.

An arrow flew past his face, missing by no more than an inch, but he took no notice and struck down again and again into the imps on the ground.

And then Thorn was there beside him, fighting with a measured, practiced fury that was awesome to contemplate. Thorn had a stabbing sword in his right hand and a long dirk in the other. He kicked one imp's head almost off its shoulders, and decapitated another with the sword. A huge snarling bewk swung at them, and they dove low as the big sword clanged off their end of the wagon. Then a dragon's shadow passed over, and Ecator whistled around in a savage sweep that knocked the beast right off its feet. Bazil put a foot up on the wagon, tilting it way over while bits of the barricade rolled away as he jabbed down at the fallen bewk. The bewk was no oafish troll, however; it wriggled like an eel, knocked Ecator's thrust aside with its own sword while lying on its back, and rolled out of range. Bazil was left impressed once more by the speed and quality of these new monsters of the enemy.

For a few minutes more the battle seesawed back and forth across the barricade and then two more dragons, big old brasshides Belo and Gompho, came running up, short of breath and purple-faced after coming all the way from Barley Mow. They were carrying dragonsize scythe and sickle, the tools of their trade as mowers. They'd been mowing a meadow for Farmer Lyle and had come straight from the field when they'd heard the bell going like crazy in the temple. Then on the road down from Barley Mow, they'd met young Pip Pigget riding a big white horse and spreading the word. They'd run ever since, and were breathing very hard when they arrived. But they were in time to wield their scythes on a final thrust by the imps, and took a dozen heads while Bazil took a couple more. The imps fell back in screaming disorder, and the bewks finally lost heart too as the enemy horde flowed back from the barricade. A lull fell over the scene.

Relkin and Thorn looked around themselves. Smoke swirled through the streets. There were dead and wounded everywhere, casualties had been heavy. Imps were mounded up below the wagons. There were dead men aplenty too. The men of Quosh were not soldiers. They were not ready to battle a horde of imps like this.

BOOK: The Dragons of Argonath
11.51Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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