Grundel had watched Rundo climb up that wall like a cave lizard in Evermount climbed up the stone. It was impressive. He hadn’t ever thought of Rundo as a fighter, but maybe he was wrong. He saw a man creep out of the building Rundo had just climbed onto the roof of. He was sighting down his crossbow when Grundel’s axe cut him in half, then the weapon came flying back to his hand. He saw Rundo come rolling over the top of that roof. He caught the edge and then dropped a few feet, catching a handhold Grundel couldn’t see. A ball of fire followed close behind. Then two men came to edge of the building and peered over it. Grundel released his axe. It flew end over end and smashed into the center of the wizard’s chest. The other man was about to fire down on Rundo, but the axe smashing into the wizard distracted him. Rundo let go with one hand and flung one of his daggers up. It grazed the Dragon’s arm, making him drop the crossbow, and he pulled back away from the edge just in time for Grundel’s axe to slam into his back and send him flying over Rundo on his way to the ground.
Rundo made it down to the ground safely, then he ran across the street to join Grundel. They watched as a black line of magic wrapped around Anwar. Grundel jumped over the wall, but a line of lightning shot from a window and knocked him back over it.
Anwar saw the rope of dark energy wrap around him. He brought his arms down and let it wrap around his shield, playing along as if he were stuck. He could have pushed back against the energy, but he let it tighten around his shield. It couldn’t hurt him while his shield was in place. This was the easiest way to draw them all out of their hiding places.
King Gier watched from a window as the Black Dragon Stregone wrapped some kind of black energy around Anwar. The other Black Dragons came out. Another man wrapped his own magic, a much thinner line, around Anwar also. The two wizards had him captured. The king ran out into the square. There were only eight of the wizards and twelve of the assassins left alive. He walked across the square to stand next to Stregone, eyeing an apparently helpless Anwar.
“Well, Anwar, you are not so proud now. You’re not so tough now that there are some other wizards in Kampar, are you?” he said.
Anwar just stared down into the eyes of the king. His guards stood behind him with the swords that he had enchanted for them. “You let these men come into your city and kill innocent people all to get back at me?”
“No, I let them do it for the gold, but I would have let them do it for free just to be a part of this.”
Just then Captain Eric came running around the corner with fifty guards.
“Kill them,” the king yelled at the Black Dragons.
Stregone nodded to one of the wizards standing by, who began walking toward Captain Eric.
One of the guards spun around, bringing his sword up. The sword had been magically enchanted and cut through the wizard’s magical shield like butter. The man was cut clean in half. The other two guards burst into action, following the lead of their comrade. The one in the middle drove his blade through the back of the king. The tip of the blade stuck out of the man’s fat stomach. The third guard drove his blade through the chest of another of the wizards as he turned around to see what was happening.
Anwar watched as the King’s Guard turned their blades on the king and the Black Dragons. He watched as the swords he had enchanted cut through the magical shields of the unsuspecting wizards. Then he saw that the rest of the Black Dragons were realizing what was happening, but before they could act he pushed back against the ropes of dark energy that were wrapped around him. He saw the shock in Stregone’s face as his most powerful magic was thwarted in an instant. Anwar shot tendrils of electricity out at the remaining eighteen Black Dragons around him. Each of them jerked momentarily as the electricity broke through their shields and coursed through their bodies. Then all twelve of them fell to the ground.
Rundo helped Grundel back to his feet. They saw the guards go running by as they got back to their feet and ran to follow them. They stopped when they saw the King’s Guard start cutting down Black Dragons. Then Anwar broke free and lighting shot out of his hands. As all of the Black Dragons fell to the ground, Rundo and Grundel ran to join Anwar.
The guards were cheering his name. People were coming out of their houses, and Anwar saw Master Gabriel and Master Gibbins walking across the square. The crowd continued to grow and began to celebrate. But Anwar couldn’t enjoy the moment. People had been murdered to draw him out. His own brother was dead. He had no family left. These people were happy because their lives were going back to normal, but he was still losing everything. Anwar looked out over the crowd.
“People of Kampar, I must apologize that you were made to suffer because of me. The king you served was a man of greed. He gave these men permission to kill the citizens of this city for gold. But the King’s Guard are noble men. They cut down their king when he ordered his own people murdered and then began fighting wizards. They are the heroes of the day, not me. You all need to choose someone to lead you, even if it is only until a permanent ruler can be established. You have suffered enough loss. It is time for Kampar to have some peace.”
The guards started shouting for Eric. “Eric, Eric, Eric...” Soon everyone there was calling for Eric. Anwar knew that it would have been Captain Anthony if he was still alive, but he was another of the people Anwar had lost.
Eric called for quiet. “The king had no heir. I will take control of the city for the time being. But in a month’s time the city will hold an election. At that time whoever wins that election will be the new king of Kampar.” The shouts for Eric rang out again.
Anwar made his way away from the crowd. They deserved to be excited. Buthe couldn’t celebrate; there was still too much to do. Grundel and Rundo followed him, and Master Gabriel and Master Gibbins were waiting outside the crowd for him.
Master Gabriel came up to him first. “You just put Captain Eric on the throne of Kampar.”
“I did nothing. The people called out his name, not me,” Anwar retorted.
Master Gabriel nodded. “He might not know it yet, but he just pushed for an election that is going to make him the king of this city. You have done this city another great favor, Anwar. The circumstance that led up to it may be grave, but the city is better for it. I am sorry to ask this, but what happened with Mariah?”
Anwar looked into his old mentor’s eyes. Then he looked over at Master Gibbins, who had raised Mariah from a little girl. He was the closest thing to a father she had ever had. “Mariah’s soul could not be held by her body any longer. The fairy queen returned her soul, but her body died soon after. She was alive long enough for us to say goodbye. She is buried under the great fairy tree in the fairy forest.
Master Gibbins nodded. “She is with Mishima, and she got to see the fairy forest before she left us. I have to believe she is at peace with that.”
“I am sorry, Anwar. Thank you for saving us. Is there anything we can do to help you? Where are you going now?”
“Make sure this city can defend itself. Start working on defenses. Start preparing wizards and fighters. Delvidge is unleashing chaos on the world. Kampar deserves peace, but it won’t last long. Get them prepared for whatever comes next. As for me, I am heading back to Evermount. Delvidge has promised war against the dwarves, and I have to do everything I can to stop him. If it’s all right, we will stay the night here and leave in the morning for Evermount.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Waiting for War
The way into Evermount was a solid stone door that was five feet thick, ten feet wide, and fifteen feet tall. The dwarves of old had constructed it so that the dwarves could lower that stone slab down into the mountain itself. The top of that slab became flush with the landing outside and the floor of the tunnel inside.
Jabaal walked through that opening and out onto the landing, a platform at the top of the stairs up the mountain. To either side of it was a fifty-foot walkway with a three-foot wall. If anyone was foolish enough to try to come up those stairs the dwa
rves wood rain down crossbow bolts from that walkway onto the narrow, winding stairway below.
Jabaal stared down at that stairway, at its thousands of perfectly crafted steps. The dwarves hadn’t cut a staircase straight up the mountain like humans probably would have. They had followed the contour of the mountain, letting the stone guide the way. That made the stairway much longer, but it was also more gradual. Four men could walk up the stairs shoulder to shoulder. Word had come that orcs were marching against Evermount. Orcs would only be able to come up those stairs two or three at a time.
Jabaal tried to imagine every possibility. They had received word from the scouts that there were at least one hundred thousand. Even so, hundred of logs were being carried up those stairs now. Jabaal could see the end of the line halfway down the stairs. It would be another hour to two before they were all inside. After that, oil would be poured down those stairs. They had sent dwarves with some of the refugees out to Istan when they had heard about the orcs; those dwarves had returned with all of the oil in the town. That, on top of the hundreds of gallons that the dwarves already had in the mountain, would cover the stairs all the way down to the bottom of the mountain. The dwarves were already turning the first hundreds of logs that were being carried into Evermount into crossbow bolts. The plan for the first group of orcs to try to make it into Evermount was simple. Let the orcs get lined up all the way up the stairs, then light the oil. The orcs hated fire. They would either burn or leap away from the fire to their deaths. And if they didn’t send all the orcs up the stairs at once, the dwarves would start picking them off with crossbows until they tried to rush up the mountain.
The dwarves weren’t relying on the mountain alone, though. The mountain was virtually impregnable, but the dwarves had learned that could only mean so much. Miskrull had penetrated the mountain, and he had been sent by the same god who was sending these orcs, which meant there had to be some angle they weren’t seeing.
The next part of the plan was to close the gate. If the orcs broke through the gate, the dwarves would collapse the tunnel. There was a tunnel leading out of the mountain and into the woods. If they closed that door, the dwarves would descend through the mountain and emerge behind the orc army. Then the couple thousand dwarves of Evermount would come down on whatever was left of the orc army. It was the way dwarves liked to fight—up close and personal—but in this situation it would be a last-ditch effort. The sheer numbers said it was suicide. All of the women and young dwarves would leave out that tunnel behind the fighting dwarves and travel toward Shinestone, the mountain that Miskrull had gone to first, and where he had killed all of the dwarves who had lived there. The dwarves that escaped Evermount would wait there for the dwarves of the remaining three dwarven kingdoms to join them. Hopefully Anwar would show up before that happened.
If the situation got bad, Anwar could turn the tide in an instant, Jabaal thought. They didn’t know the limit of his powers, but they knew it was great. They knew the power he used to finish off the wraith could have destroyed all of Evermount if he had not been able to get it away from the mountain. That kind of power could change the dynamic of the battle in an instant. Thinking of Anwar made him sad.
They had received word of what the Black Dragons had done in Kampar. He only hoped Anwar could make it there in time. He slid his rose-hilted sword out of his scabbard and ran his fingers over the fine lines in the hilt. The “rose band” they had called themselves when they were leaving Kampar to start their adventures. He was so excited when Mariah and Anwar had asked him if he wanted to come. He was even more excited when Anwar gave him this sword. Cannen had made this sword and Anwar had enchanted it. Now Cannen was dead, and maybe Mariah, too. And Captain Anthony and the others. It was just he and Anwar now. He wanted to believe they had saved her, but somehow he had known when they left that they were really just going to give Mariah peace, to let her soul find its way to Mishima. He had seen in Anwar’s eyes that he knew it, too. Anwar was grieving when he left. He tried to be determined to save her, but he was forcing it. Jabaal knew him well enough to see it.
He stood on top of Evermount staring at his sword with its rose-shaped hilt. The rose band was dead.
“That’s a fine blade, friend. If you plan on throwing it over the edge, let me take it for you.”
Jabaal didn’t turn around when he heard Grizzle’s voice. Grizzle was the best friend he had ever had. Better than Anwar even. Anwar and Mariah had always been a partnership. He had had Grizzle.
“Cannen made this sword for me,” he told Grizzle.
“I remember you telling me that once. It’s terrible what happened to him. Have you heard the whole story yet?” Grizzle asked.
“You mean how he laughed in the wizard’s face before he died, and promised him that Anwar was going to kill him? Oh, I heard it. I just hope that we find him first.”
“Likely he’s in Kampar now, which means he might be dead already. They are fools. If you poke a snake with a stick you are likely to get bit. Well, they poked the long-legged mage, all right. They just didn’t know how long his fangs were.”
Jabaal had to laugh. Grizzle always had a way of making things seem less serious than they were. He was right about Anwar, though. So was Cannen for that matter. He slid his sword back into the scabbard.
“You ready to kill some orcs, little one?” Jabaal teased.
“Ho, ho! You know Grizzle been waiting on a fight. It’s been too long since I been able to fight someone who wasn’t some magical creature sent by some pain-in-my-arse god. It will be nice to fight with sword and hammer again.”
“Yeah, that would be nice,” Jabaal replied.
“It ain't gonna be just us fightin orcs though, is it?” Grizzle stated more then asked.
“No, my friend. I don’t think it is. I just wish I had an idea what was going to be coming with those orcs,” said Jabaal.
“It’s a sad day when a hundred thousand orcs is the least of your concerns,” Grizzle said.
Jabaal just shook his head.
“It looks like they got all the logs up. We better go help with that oil. I hear they are only a couple hours away. They will probably try to start up the steps in the dark. Like we won’t be waiting for that. Stupid orcs,” Grizzle said jokingly. He was back in a joking mood. He always started making jokes when he knew a fight was coming.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Mountain of Fire
Vingaza and Fredin stood next to each other, staring at Evermount. The long, winding staircase was the only way up.
“I don’t see any other way than going up those stairs, unless you have any other ideas,” Vingaza said as he looked at Fredin.
Fredin turned and looked back at his son and his new advisor. Neither had anything to offer. “What about your wizards? Can’t they take some orcs up to that landing? If we could take that landing, it would give the rest a chance to get up the stairs. The dwarves are bound to have traps ready when orcs start walking up those stairs. They are sneaky little cowards all holed up in their mountain.”
Vingaza thought it was entertaining, hearing the orc call a dwarf cowardly for hiding in the mountain he was trying to make his home. The dwarves were a lot of things, but coward was rarely used to describe them.
“They could, but it would be folly. The landing is covered with dwarves with crossbows in hand. They could take a couple at a time, but they would have to be able to have a spot big enough for not only them, but all the orcs they took, and each could only take one or two. I doubt there is room for one man and two orcs to appear together, and even if there were, they would all be filled full of bolts before they could do anything. What we can do is bombard them with magic when they start firing down on the stairs.”
Fredin took a moment to think about it. He couldn’t think of a better option. He would send another clan up the stairs first. Just in case of any traps. The first clan to go up would probably die anyway from being fired on and fighting. It was going to take more orcs th
an any clan had on its own to fight their way into the narrow passages of the dwarves. “That is as good a plan as I can come up with. We still have another two hours until the sun starts to come up. I will get the first clan headed up the stairs right away. Don’t use any magic until I blow the horn. Let’s see if the dwarves give away any of their surprises first.”
Vingaza had to admire Fredin’s plan. He expected to lose a lot initially, so he wanted to make sure he found out as much as he could when he did. “We will wait for your signal,” he said.
Fredin gathered the clan chiefs together to explain the plan. He left out all the details about the dwarves having traps in place. He knew the chiefs would volunteer to fight without thinking about the risk as long as he didn’t tell him about the risk. “One clan is going to go up the stairs first. If the dwarves on that ledge start attacking the orcs on the stairs, the wizards are going to start shooting their magic at them. Once the first clan gets in, the rest will follow them up the stairs. There are a lot of tunnels in that mountain, but first we will have to surge up those stairs and make it to the entrance. Once we’re in the mountain we will have them. Who is going to get us in the mountain?” They all tried to claim the right at once. Who had come first? Who had the biggest army? In the end Fredin picked the clan that was second in sizze to his Dungins.
“The Kletterns will go first, the Opfern will go up next, then the Verrit, then the Narren, then the Topel, then the Dumme, then the Wahreg, then the Vorig, then the Weigand, and the Dungins will come up last.”
Rising of a Mage: Book 03 - A Mage Risen Page 13
