The Punishment Of The Gods (Omnibus 1-5)

by Jake Yaniak

  The difficulty of reaching the top of the ridge scarcely seemed worth the effort, as instead of deadly arrows they were met by deadly spears and axes. The dwarf-forged weapons cut through the armor of the hirelings like paper; even the armor of the Marin soldiers was not good for more than a few blows. Lyris found herself surrounded almost the moment she came within sight of the dwarves. They charged without hesitation, cutting down three of her fellows. In a rage, she thrust her spear through one of their faces, making sure the first charge of the dwarves was not made without cost. Before they could strike again, she tossed her spear into the heart of the greatest of them and drew her sword. With this she and her companions made short work of the axe-men. The spears of their enemies, however, proved a greater difficulty. The dwarves could throw these from a great distance and with surprising force. It was better to dodge these than to block, a last lesson for many of the hirelings and even a few Marin soldiers, who learned too late that the shields of men are no match for dwarf iron.

  With the archers fled or slain, the battle turned in favor of Marin. Natham stood alone on the eastern ridge with all his foes lying slain on the grass. On the other ridge, the soldiers now had complete mastery of the field. The dwarves accordingly took to flight. They disappeared into the many hidden places in the southern landscape. Many caves, crevices, pits and brambles were littered about the area and into these the dwarves flew with haste. In the end, the dead numbered sixty soldiers and over a hundred hirelings.

  When the army was reordered, the dead laid to rest in mounds, and the camp set with guards and watchfires, Whately sought out the Marshall Lyris in her tent. Natham stood nearby and was beckoned to enter with his master. 'These dwarves had news of us,' Whately said as he entered, 'for all our planning, they were well prepared.'

  'Indeed,' Lyris said, 'Dwarves cannot easily be taken off-guard; at least not the dwarves of Zoar. It is said that they can sense an army from twenty leagues away.' She then turned to the monster and spoke in a kind voice, 'I thank you, Natham, for you have once saved the lives of many soldiers.' Natham bowed his head. 'The dwarves have built unto themselves a stronghold in the Zoar mountains, no more than ten leagues to the south. It is the will of Queen Marin that this stronghold be taken forever from the hands of these fell creatures.'

  'To take a stronghold she will need to send many more soldiers,' Whately said. This force is sufficient to guard a town, but not to sack a dwarf-city.'

  'The Queen has her mind elsewhere,' Lyris said cautiously, but disapprovingly. Her mind wanders beyond our shores and into the west.'

  Whately shook his head, 'Morm nu desc, vir nu scin,' he said. 'Which is to say, as it is said in Titalo, "The dead teach not, the living learn not"

  'I understand your heart,' Lyris said, 'yet we are the servants of Marin, to question her authority is not our right.'

  'Tell me more of this stronghold,' Whately said as he shook his head, turning their thoughts back to the coming conflicts. 'What are its weaknesses, and is there any hope of coming against it unexpectedly.'

  The stronghold, according to Lyris, was built into the solid rock of the Zoar Mountains, in the north face of Mount Zhagib, Thlux in the dwarven tongue. The northern side of the fortress was smooth as marble, save for two rows of windows that guarded the fortress from above. There was a stone highway built there that led from the north up into the mountain, splitting at the fortress and then wrapping around the east and western walls of the stronghold. There were two great gates of equal size on the east and western sides of the fortress; one was used as an entrance only, the other, as an exit. For efficiency's sake the dwarves allowed no exception to this; weapons, food, spoils and other provisions and prizes were brought into the fortress through the western gate only. Everything and everyone that wished to leave the fortress was compelled to do so through the eastern gate. The fortress was narrow enough from east to west that one could enter the city through the western gate and leave through the eastern in under an hour. How long the fortress was from north to south, however, was unknown. 'It might be no deeper than it is wide,' Lyris said, 'but then it might also go by secret tunnels all the way to Dominas in the south.'

  The windows on the north face of the stronghold were too high for any archer to reach. In each window there was room for two archers as well as for one of their dreadful repeating crossbows, which they were certain to have in abundance at their fortress. On the east and western sides there were many towers built. At the tops of these there were catapults and other deadly weapons of war that the dwarves had crafted. No doors or ladders could be found on those towers; their entrances were all subterranean and hidden. Beyond this, it was unknown what other preparations these dwarves had made for themselves.

  'The Queen is mad,' Whately said irately, when they had left the tent of Lyris. 'How can she send these young soldiers, these women, to such certain death!? Not to mention the poor souls they call "hirelings"'

  To this Natham said nothing, though it was clear that he was in full agreement. When they came at last to their own tent Whately sighed, lifting his eyes to look upon the stars. 'I suppose there is nothing else to be done though. We are embarked, and naught but treachery could save our skins alive now. But what is a treacherous life worth? It is not worth much to me.'

  That night, as he lay in his tent, Whately's mind rushed to and fro, reviewing everything Lyris had told him regarding the dwarves and their stronghold. For some reason the words, 'they can sense an army from twenty leagues away' kept presenting themselves to his mind. He fell into a deep but troubled sleep, dreaming of nonsense. But as the morning dawned and the horns of Marin woke him from his nightmares, he returned without difficulty or confusion back to his thoughts from the previous night. Even as the sun dawned upon the world, an idea and a plan dawned upon him.

  The taking of Mount Zhagib took place in the following manner:

  On the fifth day of Solest, seven soldiers and fifteen hirelings left the camp with enough provisions to last them several weeks. Two weeks later, another party left, this time with eight soldiers and twelve hirelings. Another party left the following week; again, the number of soldiers was varied. This process was continued throughout the summer and into the fall until the entire army save for Natham, Whately, Lyris and a few others had departed.

  Each of these parties wandered wide and far from that land, only making their way toward the dwarf stronghold little by little, and as wanderers rather than assailants. Here and there, they were discovered and there were battles. But by the end of the summer only twelve soldiers and forty hirelings had been slain. Two of the smaller bands had either perished in the wild or deserted the army altogether. Those that remained safe and faithful provided for themselves as they could, receiving help from Zomara as it was available. This assistance, both in weapons and provisions, was delivered to them by Lyris and Natham so that the faithfulness of the Marshall and the might of the Monster could give them encouragement as well as food.

  Thus they crept, little by little, yet always sundered, ever closer to the stronghold of Zhagib. Finally, when the month of Ornus came and with it the threat of snow and ice, Whately sent a messenger to all the exiled warriors: 'The time to march against Zhagib draws nigh. On the fifteenth day of Ornus, we will pour into the vale of Thlux by night.' With his messengers Whately sent more detailed commands for each individual group.

  When the appointed day had come, the warriors of Marin with Whately and Natham stole into the land of the dwarves from several directions. When the morning sun arose on the following day they leapt out from their hiding places and charged into the stronghold. The dwarves reacted swiftly, sending hordes of armed warriors against them, but it was too late. Their great defenses did them no good. Natham charged into the center of the stronghold like a raging bull, casting the dwarves aside like dust. At his right side rode Lyris, mounted upon a great white horse, and at his left rode Whately on a brown horse.

  In the main hall of the stronghold a gre
at battle was fought. At first the soldiers of Marin and their hirelings dominated the conflict, driving the dwarves into their secret passages and chambers, slaying all that could not thus escape. The horses were a terror to them.

  It was only a short time, however, before the dwarves gained control of themselves and began raining arrows down upon the invaders from the upper levels of the stronghold. Under this barrage the army of Marin rushed through the main hall and passed under a great stone arch into the hall of the Dwarf-lord. The archers made short work of the horses; Whately and his beast alone escaping their keen eyes. Lyris was forced to abandon her fallen steed and continue on foot with her shield above her head. Two groups, each consisting of thirty soldiers and eighty hirelings, were sent into the winding halls of the fortress to seek out those dwarves who yet lay hidden, and to make an end of the archers that were still devastating their mounted warriors.

  In the chamber of the dwarf-lord, however, the army was to face its fiercest fight. Two Golem-lords stood on either side of the Dwarf-lord, who himself was clad in such armor as to bend any blade, deflect any arrow, and notch any axe. Upon his helm there stood two massive spikes of iron, the points of which were plated with gold. A man would scarcely be able to lift this helm, let alone wield it in battle atop his head. The dwarf-lord, however, moved about with ease and made short work of the first enthusiastic warriors that entered his chamber. The blade of his battle-axe cut through their armor as though it was paper.

  Whom he did not slay was slain by the Golem-lords. The greater of them had in one hand a great sword, the blade of which was taller than a man, and in the other he carried a mallot of iron. The smaller Golem carried above his head a great spear, such as one might fashion to slay a dragon. In front of this smaller Golem was a great shield of many plates of iron, covering the Golem almost completely, save for a small slit through which the golem-rider could see his prey. All these weapons were soon stained red with blood. About the feet of these golems marched innumerable axe-men and sword-men. Many of the hirelings, indeed, many of the trained soldiers of Marin as well, were so encouraged by their progress in the main hall that they did not hesitate to challenge these mighty foes. They were cured of their enthusiasm swiftly and painfully.

  The hordes of dwarf fighters were held at bay by Lyris and the soldiers of Marin. Whately rode about the large chamber on his horse shouting orders and dueling dwarf warriors, but mostly avoiding the impregnable golems and the dwarf-lord, whom he wisely acknowledged to be invulnerable to any strike he might make against them. Natham challenged the golems immediately. He charged through the dwarf warriors mercilessly, scattering them and breaking their lines to pieces. The confusion into which they were thrust made them easy prey to the soldiers of Marin and the hirelings. In the center of the chamber a battle the likes of which few can imagine took place. In his initial charge, Natham forced Admunth into the face of the dwarf-lord, sending him, armor and all, rolling across the floor, clanking and clattering across the stone tiles. In an instant the golems fell upon him with all of their weapons. Tucked beneath Admunth he was safe from all their pummeling, stabbing and slashing. When the blows relented he rose to his full height once more and took aim at the shield-bearer. His mighty spear pierced the shield, but did not harm the rider. The golem continued to smoke and rage, stabbing at Natham with its pike. Natham's left arm was swift, sure, and mighty; the blow was stayed. The other golem took its turn next: He swung his hammer down upon Admunth, rattling the shield and rending the air with a sound like a thousand camp bells.

  The dwarf-lord by that time had arisen and was now wreaking havoc on the soldiers of Marin. Whately attempted to pierce his armor with a spear, but all he managed to do was shatter his spear against the invulnerable dwarf armor. With the back of his fist the dwarf-lord knocked Whately off his horse. The old warrior rolled on his back and rose to his feet just before the dwarf's second blow landed. Knowing himself to be outmatched he stepped away, hoping to lead the dwarf-lord away from the others until Natham could challenge him.

  The golems, in the meanwhile, were beginning to steam and putter with a fury, as though the battle was pushing them beyond their abilities. They were trying very hard to come at Natham from opposite sides, but Natham kept himself always at an angle from them both, as though he were the third point of a shifting triangle. Slowly, however, he allowed himself to move closer and closer to the golem with the sword. In an instant the golem with the spear thrust its mighty weapon at the monster, hoping to break through the mighty shield. But Natham took a sudden step back and the thrust passed in front of him. With incredible speed he grabbed hold of the golem's iron arm and added the strength of his own arms to the fierce attack of the golem. He forced the golem's spear through the armor of the other golem, piercing the rider through the chest. A scream rent the air and then the golem fell to the ground in ruin, smoke and blood. The spear of the first golem was still lodged in the heart of its fallen comrade. Natham rushed around the remaining golem and thrust his spear through its flank. In a moment it also fell to the ground in a ruinous clash of iron on stone.

  He lost no time in seeking out the dwarf-lord, who was cutting down hirelings and soldiers with ease. Whately called out for them to flee from him, but in their rashness they rushed to meet their deaths. Natham rushed to Whately's side, 'Step away from this one, master Whately,' he said urgently.

  'That is exactly what I was hoping you came here to say,' Whately said panting. It was only a few moments before the dwarf-lord also lay dead. He took a swing at Natham with his axe, which became lodged in Admunth. The dwarf-lord attempted to retrieve it, but Natham grabbed him by the horns with his hidden arms. He dropped Admunth with the axe still lodged within it and with three arms he hurled the dwarf-lord across the stone floor. The dwarf-lord spun and bounced across the stone, leaving puddles of blood where he struck. He came to a rest at the foot of his own throne. He made some weak motions with his arms and then moved no more. Some enthusiastic and dishonorable hirelings rushed to the fallen warrior and relieved the body of its precious armor.

  With the lord of the dwarves fallen and his guardians in smolders, the rest of the stronghold fell easily. The dwarves vanished into the deep places and hid among the earth spirits while the Marin soldiers slew all that remained above. 'This is no use,' Whately complained when they had finished the battle. 'They can come against us in the night from a thousand holes, and we have no means to defend ourselves. And who knows what they might bring up from the deep. Who knows what fell inventions they store in the dark places of the earth.'

  'What then shall we do?' Lyris asked him. 'For we have been bidden to take the stronghold from them forever, that they might trouble the land of Marin no longer.'

  'If that is your task, my lady,' Whately scoffed, 'then you are doomed to fail. You have not the means to secure this fortress from the dwarves; nor will you ever have the means to fight them in their secret places. Do you not yet realize of what firm material these creatures are fashioned? Do you not smell the blood of those who fell to their cunning archers and their fell king? Do you not see the powder the golem's made of the bones of your warriors and mercenaries?'

  Lyris' countenance fell. 'What do we do then? For I will not return to Marin to tell My Lady that I have not finished what I have been commanded. For my grandfather was Ollitov, and I will not bring shame upon his memory.'

  Whately sat down on the edge of a stone dais and untied his boot, emptying the dust from inside. 'If we wish to fulfill your Lady's command, we must destroy the fortress entirely. We have, I imagine, no more than a week before an attempt is made to recover this place. Whether the army will come from without or from within these tunnels I cannot tell. But we have no means to seek them out and no means to withstand them if they come to take back what is theirs. This very instant we must set about the utter destruction of this place. That only will keep them from returning.'

  'Then let it be as you have said,' Lyris replied.

 
; Skatos Ereg

  That evening Duri woke Natham from his sleep and led him along empty halls toward the southernmost passage of the Stronghold. There was a guard posted there, for they knew not where the passage led. The guards greeted the monster warily but did not question him or waylay him as he followed after his invisible guide. Down long halls they walked by torchlight until the air grew cold and heavy. Through many strange passages Duri led him, twisting and turning through a great labyrinth of tunnels until at last they came to a great hall. At the end of this hall there was a great door of iron with a lock the likes of which only dwarves can make. 'I trust your strength will be sufficient for this trinket?' Duri laughed.

  Indeed, Natham knocked, with a single blow, the door from its frame. The crash echoed in the depths and made all the men and women who lay sleeping both above and the dwarves who scurried about in the hidden places below pause and put their ears to the wall in fear. When Natham lifted the torch he saw that the room into which he had been led was a great vault of treasure and arms. 'I brought you here,' Duri said, 'because when the men find it they will most certainly spoil it. But I know that you can be trusted to take only that which will be of the most use.'

  Natham's eyes danced about the room. In the firelight he could see many torches hanging upon the walls. These he lit until the whole room danced and glimmered. More gold he had not seen in his entire lifetime. But his eyes were drawn away from all this wealth to a dark corner of the room. Here the torchlight failed, almost unnaturally, and a shadow was cast upon everything in that area. He moved toward the darkness and found therein a chest of rotted wood. Turning his back on the wealth of the dwarves he opened the chest and removed a bundle of tattered cloth from inside. The torches fluttered and dimmed as he lifted it, and his own light blew out as though a great wind had been released from that chest. The cloth bundle was bound with a single red string which was sealed on one side with the image of some dreadful god or monster.