“You expect me to believe this nonsense? There are no gods left on Malweir. Everyone knows that. We are alone here. The old gods fled, leaving us to our own perversions.”
Anienam stepped forward. “That’s not entirely true, King Thord. The gods may be gone, but the dark gods are forever seeking to return and lay claim. Their agents walk among us, seeking to turn great men evil and ruin as many lives as they can in the process. They have come to the northern kingdoms with lies and temptations. Bahr’s brother has succumbed to their whims, no more than a puppet in a great lie. Their war has already engulfed two kingdoms and threatens to spread across the entire north. How long before it reaches these halls?”
“What proof do you have, wizard-son?” Thord asked, eyes raised. His superstitious side wanted to believe, to accept the gods hadn’t abandoned Malweir at all. His practical side, however, demanded more than what he’d just heard. He needed proof if he was expected to give in and aid these Humans on their quest. Thousands of Dwarves depended on his judgments to guide them in the right directions. Going to war against the powers of darkness definitely wasn’t in Drimmen Delf’s best interests.
“Physical proof? None, but your scouts will be able to confirm we are being tracked by a trio of Harpies. We travel with one of the Giants of Venheim, a race practically none thought existed anymore, to the fabled city of Trennaron to retrieve the Blud Hamr. Check with your scholars. They can confirm the Hamr’s only use. Don’t be so quick to abandon rationale, Dwarf king. Malweir’s history is laced with times when the dark gods tried to return.”
“I know all of that, but what you speak of is ancient history,” Thord protested, weakly. “Present times have no need for gods or their return. How will any of this help me in my war against the dark Dwarves?”
Bahr cleared his throat with a sudden thought. “Perhaps by admitting that these dark Dwarves were turned by the very powers we seek to stop and come to pen you under your mountains while the true war rages elsewhere, effectively removing you from the equation entirely.”
Thord opened and closed his mouth, teeth snapping shut harshly. “You suggest we are not relevant? Dwarves have lived under these mountains for millennia. Much of your great treasures were built from our sweat, Human. Don’t think to come into my throne room and threaten me when I give in to whim and grant your audience.”
“That’s not what he meant,” Anienam rushed to stop the damage. “Bahr speaks a measure of truth. You are too close to the situation. Too used to thinking the same way. We merely seek to give you an outside perspective that will help you turn the tide and end your war as quickly as possible.”
“While convincing me to let you cross my lands on your foolish quest,” Thord finished tartly.
Anienam flashed his most charming smile. “We’re not really asking for much compared to what we’re willing to deliver.”
Thord’s laughter rumbled across the room like a thunderstorm breaking the heavens. His face burned crimson and tears trickled from the corners of his eyes. “I’ve fought in many wars, wizard. I know my business well. The dark Dwarves will break on our shields and flee the field. We are the Dwarves of Drimmen Delf and no greater force can be fielded in all Malweir.”
“Let us help you and you can add to your combat effectiveness. We have a Giant and our very own Gaimosian Knight, not to mention the talents of one of the last remaining wizards.”
Bahr cast Anienam a reluctant glare. Not much of wizard if you ask me. I’ve had better stable boys.
Thord’s expression turned dark suddenly, serious. “And we have weapons the likes of which have never been seen in any other kingdom.”
“This is pointless, Anienam. He’s not willing to budge and we’re wasting our time. Let’s just get the hells out of here,” Bahr snapped, unwilling to sit through the charade any longer.
“How dare you!” Thord raged. He leapt up, dropping his meat in the process. “I give the courtesy of hearing your schemes and you insult me to my face. By my beard! I ought to have you all strung up by your necks and cast from the mountainside.”
“My lord I assure you there is no need for that,” Groge interrupted. “These are good people, with good hearts. I confess I do not understand their ways, but I trust them entirely. We must be allowed to find the Hamr. All of our fates hinge on it.”
Hearing the Giant’s words calmed him slightly, but Thord remained incensed at Bahr’s casual disregard. Others lost their heads for less. Pride struggling with prudence, the Dwarf king managed to retake his seat and breathe normally. “Were it not for your Giant friend you’d already be dead, but he is kin and I will heed his words. Captain Ironfoot.”
The gruff Dwarf captain edged closer, hand hovering over his axe. “My lord?”
“I am putting our guests in your care for now. See to it they are fed and given the opportunity to clean up. Tomorrow they will march with me to the forward command center at Bode Hill. They want to fight our war, let them.”
Bahr and Anienam exchanged unmistakable looks. What have we gotten ourselves into?
SEVENTEEN
A Different Kind of War
Cold winds whipped across the plain, making Bahr shiver. He pulled his bearskin cloak tight and scanned the gentle, rolling hills stretching for leagues to the south. A wide plain at the base of the hill that was once peaceful and serene had been transformed into an ugly network of trenches, bunkers, and wire obstacles. A scattering of broken skeletons littered the area. He had seen war before, but nothing like this.
Monstrous engines of a sort were dug in positions behind both lines. Mostly iron, they had large, round barrels and were built on carriages. Each was manned by six Dwarves. Stockpiles of ammunition were stored close by. Bahr couldn’t imagine any use for them. Catapults and ballistae required leverage and used stone and arrow. All he saw were round balls of black metal.
Thousands of infantry massed in ranks stretching across the valley. The sounds of smiths and armorers repairing weapons and armor hovered over the encampment. Great fires burned, packs of Dwarves huddled around them for warmth. Unlike in the great halls, they were somber. Days of trench warfare had turned to weeks, and weeks to months. They were haggard, ready for the tide to break so they could wipe their enemy from the field.
Bahr squinted as breaking sunlight struck the hundreds of iron barriers in front of the trenches. Each was massive and shaped like an “x.” Beyond that lay strand upon strand of wire. Bahr had never seen the like. Wars were meant to be fluid, not static like this. Most armies didn’t rely on defenses or barriers. The Wolfsreik attacked with speed and strength, smashing their enemies under great weight. The Dwarves seemed content with digging in and waiting.
“What are those barriers?” he asked.
Ironfoot grunted his displeasure at being questioned by an outsider. “We call them dragon teeth. They are quite effective at halting an infantry assault.”
Bahr nearly asked if there was a cavalry threat before catching the foolishness of it. Dwarves held a natural dislike for horses, much preferring to go on foot. They kept and bred ponies for their wagons and merchants but very few bothered to ride such beasts.
“And those machines behind us?”
Ironfoot laughed. “Something special our engineers have developed. They are much more powerful than catapults. We call them cannons.”
“Alchemy?” Anienam asked. His curiosity got the better of him and he needed to know more. No other kingdom, in so far as he knew, held such destructive power. He knew this might change warfare for all Malweir too soon. And if the dark gods got their hands on this technology…he let the thought die.
“That is not my place to say nor am I inclined to tell you more, wizard,” Ironfoot replied. “We are at war and you are not privileged to know our secrets. It is only by the grace of King Thord that you stand upon Bode Hill.”
He led them down into the trenches under the watchful stares of battle-hardened Dwarves who had already seen too much. They quickly forgo
t their own worries, as well as Bahr and Anienam, and focused on Groge. Whispers spread through the ranks. The Giants had returned! Some nodded. Others raised their fists and cheered. Renewed hope invigorated them.
“You inspire them, Groge,” Bahr said. He hoped this would give them more leeway to help and then be set free. Every second they spent dithering here drew them closer to an unwanted end.
Groge only shook his head, trying his best to return their cheers and smiles. “I don’t know how. I am just an apprentice and still very young. What can I give to such a strong people?”
Anienam added, “Hope. What more can any army in the field ask for?”
Ironfoot halted outside of a massive iron door and used his axe handle to rap on it three times. A pair of Dwarves appeared to open it and ushered the others inside. King Thord already awaited them. He’d traveled earlier with a small retinue to the front lines in order to get a better tactical picture of the siege lines. He watched Bahr enter, grave misgivings lurking behind his eyes. The king of the Dwarves had no need for Men or wizards but had given his oath to let them attempt to convince him they could help. So many had already fallen Thord was willing to take almost any chance. The war had to end before their culture dwindled past the point of reparation.
“I trust Captain Ironfoot wasn’t too harsh in bringing you here,” Thord rumbled.
“We’re used to it by now,” Bahr replied and quickly added, “You have an impressive defensive array. How similar is the enemy’s?”
“Damned near alike,” Thord said. “They attack us and we them. Day in and day out it is much the same. This is a war of attrition, nothing else.”
“I don’t understand. Offense is your best weapon. Why not unleash all of your cannons and send the weight of your army. You could crush their lines and drive them from the field.”
“Don’t you think we’ve already tried that? The bastards have the same weaponry and are just as effective. Hundreds died in that first assault,” Thord fumed. “But we made them pay in return. They broke on our iron and ran back to their trenches.”
Bahr walked over to the large table dominating the room. A detailed terrain map filled it, complete with moveable icons for units. Bahr had seen maps before but this was much more. It couldn’t be picked up or taken places. Reminding him of his childhood toys, the map was more of a playground than anything else. He studied it intently, ignoring everything and everyone else. The river laid a few leagues to the east, almost entirely inaccessible from the bunker. Enemy trench lines extended to the banks in a failed effort at cutting off Thord’s troops from potential reinforcements from other holds.
A series of four trenches filled the space between lines. Each was interconnected with bunkers and heavy weapon emplacements. Bahr couldn’t imagine the destructive firepower either Dwarf army had and for two equally matched forces to be in the same valley was tantamount to the end of the world. He didn’t see any way around the battle that wouldn’t take them weeks out of the way. Bahr started to think they’d made a mistake coming into Dwarf lands.
Then he spied what he was searching for: a small forest running the length of the mountains south. Certainly not big or thick enough to hide a large attacking force but more than adequate for him to sneak a handful of Men behind enemy lines. The dark Dwarves would have picket lines established well into the trees, perhaps even to the base of the mountains. The way wouldn’t be easy but he was almost confident he could manage under the cover of darkness. Besides, it was the only way he found that even remotely led to them being set free.
Staving off depression, he turned to the bank of windows stretching across the main wall. Observers and map caretakers busily noted troop dispositions and made adjustments to the map table. Senior commanders conferred in hushed tones from various corners. While all eyes were focused on the enemy, no one had any fresh ideas that would lead to a total breakout. The Dwarf army was locked in a stalemate.
Bahr whistled under his breath at the scope of devastation gripping the valley. Huge craters, presumably from the cannons, pockmarked the land. Burn marks, dark and terrible, littered the ground in angry scars. A handful of skeletons continued to rot in the middle of the no man’s land. Smoke from a dozen funeral byres drifted up in lazy columns, contaminating the already dreary sky. Broken strands of wire and wooden posts lay in tangled heaps. Old shields and axes were scattered recklessly, forgotten where they’d fallen in one retreat or the next.
“So, you’ve convinced me to let you come to my forward command center and see the battlefield for yourself. What’s next?” Thord demanded.
Bahr barely managed to shake his head in disbelief. “War is not supposed to be like this. I have seen battles before but this, this is slaughter without purpose.”
“This is how Dwarves fight. Sooner or later one side will make a mistake and the gates will be opened,” Thord replied. “We are a patient folk. Hasty decisions do not become us.”
“Even at the expense of so many lives?”
“The gods claim us when they wish. Ours is a solitary purpose.”
Bahr refused to accept the melancholic approach to war. “There has to be a better way, one that will end this siege and reduce the number of dead and wounded.”
Thord crossed his massive arms across his chest. “What do you suggest?”
“Those cannons are your problem. Take them out and you can run the field.”
The Dwarf king shook his head. “Don’t you think we haven’t tried? Their lines are too well developed. The cannons are dug in better than our own and out of range. We’d need a dragon to get to them.”
“Or someone not attached. You say these dark Dwarves were once your kin?” Bahr said.
Thord nodded.
“That means they think like you, act like you. They fight like you do, right down to the same weapons. We can give you the ability to think differently. We don’t understand your ways and that makes us dangerous. Your enemies won’t be expecting outsiders to come to your aid. We can slip behind their lines and take out those cannons. That will open the way for a full-frontal assault.”
“You will not find the task as easy as you think,” a new voice said from the doorway.
Bahr turned in time to see the Elf walk in and remove his plumed helmet. Long, dark hair fell down past his shoulders, framing his smallish face. The very tips of his pointed ears stuck through the hair. His eyes were hard like diamonds. A small scar ran under his chin and down the right side of his neck, old and past scabbed over. The Elf was lean, wiry but full of strength. His armor was dark, befitting the grueling contest he had come to fight. Only his boots were clean. Bahr could see the reflection of his face in their shine.
“I am Faeldrin,” the Elf announced and extended his hand in the Human custom.
Stunned speechless yet again, Bahr stumbled to recover. “Bahr. This is…”
Faeldrin bowed crisply. “Anienam Keiss, greetings, wizard. It has been a very long time.”
“A long time for me perhaps but the days go slower for your kind,” Anienam grinned back and embraced Faeldrin with the warmth of rekindled friendship. “I had no idea you were in this part of the world.”
“King Thord is a strong ally to our king in Elvenara. It is a great honor to fight alongside his Dwarves again.” Faeldrin removed his leather riding gloves, cracked and faded from years of use. “The Aeldruin hold no true allegiance to the Elven kingdoms, nor do the whims of kings hold sway over us, but we honor our oaths of kinship and loyalty. Some wars need to be fought, my friend. But come, why are you here? This is no place for tourists or travelers.”
Bahr’s eyes widened and slowly reverted back to normal. The Aeldruin were legends. An Elven mercenary unit, they roamed Malweir in search of righteous causes. Bahr had read where they helped kill a dragon and defeat the Goblin hordes in the Dead Lands long ago. Fierce and relentless, they were counted among the very best soldiers in the world. His hopes sank. If the best were here and Thord still hadn’t found a wa
y to break the enemy lines, what could he and his small band of cobbled misfits do?
“We are on a mission of the highest order. I’m afraid more than just this war affects the northern kingdoms. Several kingdoms to the west have already broken out in war and violence. The dark gods are seeking to return and claim dominance. The Dae’shan are loose again.”
Faeldrin’s face darkened. “Their kind should have been wiped out long ago. It’s only through blind chance they escaped us.”
“Berating ourselves over the past is pointless, Faeldrin. We must look to the future if any of us are to survive,” Anienam said.
“They killed my brother, Anienam. I have a debt to repay.”
“Your loyalty is admirable, as always. Which is why I’ve counted on you like my father did during his time. The Aeldruin are one of the most valuable assets the power of light has. It is fortunate you are here.”
Faeldrin barked a laugh, light yet crisp. “A healthy purse doesn’t hurt either. No matter what else we may be, my Elves are mercenaries at heart. Why else would we fight someone else’s war? Enough talk of me. We’re stuck here. The enemy is just as powerful as our friends and we haven’t found a way to move them from the field.”
“What about the forest at the base of the mountains?” Bahr asked, wanting an explanation for his earlier dismissal.
Faeldrin led him to the map table. “The forest would be a good option if not for a few problems. The dark Dwarves are cunning and malicious. They have spiked the lanes leading up to the forest edge with caltrops. Our horses cannot go there. Also, my scouts have reported recent earthwork done, but for what purpose I cannot say. My guess is for more traps in case any of Thord’s troops have the same idea. Crossbows are ideal weapons for fighting under a canopy but with the way trapped we will be at the disadvantage. Our best bet is to cross the mountains and come up behind them from the south.”
A Whisper After Midnight Page 14
