by Peter Last
“It’s not good, sir,” Nathan answered. “Well, at least it wasn’t before you got here. We used to be at the castle about a mile east of here, but they drove us from that position, and we have been retreating ever since. I don’t know the extent of the casualties that we have sustained, but I do know they have been heavy.”
“With the ogres and humans, how many soldiers do we have in all?”
“We had twenty thousand when the enemy first attacked, but I have no idea how many there are now,” Nathan answered.
“Whatever the numbers are, we don’t have anywhere near enough men to face Molkekk’s army, even with your dragons,” Josiah put in.
“Our army is tired, and we are barely holding on as it is now,” Levvy added. “Given the condition this army is in, there’s no way we could defend anything but a heavily fortified city.”
“We need to continue to fall back,” Nathan said. “Any contact with the enemy at this point could be fatal.”
“Very well,” Einor said after a moment of thought. “Our dragons will keep their army at bay while you put distance between yourselves and them. We will harry them if they try to follow you.”
“Good plan, sir,” Josiah said. “We’ll commence a faster retreat immediately.”
“Do it quickly,” Einor said as he and Josii turned to go back to their dragons. “We won’t be able to hold them off forever.”
“Yes sir,” Nathan said. The three Generals waited for the king to climb back onto his dragon and take off before they started to move. As the massive beast swept over them, they sprang into action, sending orders for their men to form marching ranks and begin the trek north.
As Josiah watched his men form up and move out, he couldn’t put aside the feeling that their retreat was useless. Wouldn’t they have had just as good of a chance of holding the enemy off at Far Point as they would anywhere else? With a shrug he put his misgivings aside and led the army up the Vänern River.
Eight
Senndra pulled her coat tighter and hugged herself for warmth. Even the warmth of Feddir’s body was not enough to chase away the chill at this altitude. The dragons were so high that the features of the ground far below them looked like small children’s toys. Trees were the size of toothpicks, rivers appeared as tiny rivulets, and mountains didn’t seem high or impressive. The wispy clouds floated below the dragons as they winged their way north toward Vollexa Temp.
Senndra was glad that she had remembered her heavy riding apparel this time; it consisted of a bulky coat and pair of trousers worn over her armor which did a good job of locking in her body heat. However, even with these clothes, her face and hands were still cold, and she spent a great deal of time riding with her face down and her hands in her pockets. Luckily, the majority of the trip was behind them. They had been flying for an hour and a half and were expected to arrive in little more than another half hour.
The several hours after Senndra returned were fraught with the usual rumors accompanying news in an army. Nobody knew what was happening, but everyone had their own opinion. The most common story was of a disagreement among the higher ranked officers as to what was to be done, a story which Senndra knew to be correct. Whatever the reason for the delay of the action, it was broken early that night when the infantry was informed they would be moving out immediately. The dragons would leave the next morning.
Senndra had met up with William later that night and had discovered that he had encountered an army of dragons with elfin riders over Belvárd. After the first few minutes of distrust, he learned that the elves were headed to relieve the army in the south of Rampön. His mission now moot, William had turned around and headed back to Belmoth. The news of the elf army ended all argument as to what was to be done, and the order to march was given.
And so, Senndra found herself astride her dragon only miles from the city that she had been brought up to fear, preparing to attack it. Already, if she looked hard enough, she could see the walls and defenses of Vollexa Temp far below her. An unnatural mist originated from the tower in the middle of the city and flowed out past the city walls before dissipating. The mist hid the whole city from view, preventing the dragon riders from ascertaining what they would be facing when they attacked.
A group of scouts had recently returned and reported that the infantry was only a few miles from the city gate. When the dragons arrived at the city, it would be time for the attack to commence. The plan was for the dragons to deposit their riders near the east wall of Vollexa Temp. This would relieve the beasts of their burdens as well as putting a force on the ground in the city. The hope was that such a threat would prompt the defenders to allow the attacking infantry, dressed as they were in enemy armor and uniforms, immediate access into the city to help deal with the attackers. They would only learn of their mistake after the infantry had gained a foothold in the city.
The thirty minutes it took to reach Vollexa Temp felt like hours. The dragon riders prepared for the drop by readying their weapons and rehearsing the plan in their minds to make sure everything would go correctly. They would be dropped right into a hotspot and would have to come out swinging in order to survive. Immediately after being set down, they would have to fight their way to a defendable position, and chances were that many of them would never make it.
Senndra tested her sword to ensure it had not been frozen into its sheath by the low temperatures. The blade stuck momentarily but was easily pulled free. Next, Senndra loosened the fasteners on her riding clothes so that she would be able to easily slip out of them when she hit the ground. Her preparations were barely complete when Feddir began to drop through the clouds. For a moment the dampness of the clouds soaked into her clothes, and then they were through. The city, now clearly visible, was still a mile away, but that distance would be covered in only a minute or two.
Senndra crouched low over Feddir’s back as his speed increased. The air screamed past her ears and stung her eyes, but she forced herself to look ahead. The wall approached quickly, and in a moment they were over it. Feddir dropped to six feet above the ground and fanned his wings to slow his speed, just as they had practiced. Without giving herself time to think, she threw herself sideways off of Feddir and hit the ground, the landing jarring her whole body and knocking the breath out of her. She scrambled to her feet, shoved her bulky riding clothes off, and drew her sword. With adrenaline pumping through her body and giving her an energy boost, she sprinted to the city wall where the other dragon riders were already gathering.
When Senndra reached the wall, she had a chance to look around and take stock of the situation. The mist covering the city had disappeared when she had crossed over the city walls. It was just an illusion, as she had suspected, and now the city was clear. The sentries on the walls had finally spotted the invading force and were scurrying off to sound the alarm. In less than a minute a bell was pealing across the city, drawing soldiers from their beds.
By now all the dragon riders had dismounted and gathered, and they began to skirt the courtyard, looking for a way up onto the wall. They found what they were looking for in the form of a tower with a spiral staircase winding up it. They entered and ascended the steps, encountering some enemies about half way up. The brief battle which ensued left the opposing soldiers and one of the dragon riders dead. The invaders met another group of enemies at the top of the stairs, but these were again dispatched easily. Using the wall, the dragon riders reached another section of the city and descended into it. Houses covered this part of the city, and the dragon riders separated into squads of ten, moving through the buildings and clearing them of all inhabitants.
By this time bells were sending their alarms across the whole city, and the enemy troops were assembling. Molkekk’s men began to search the entire city, looking for the invading force and were quickly attracted to the commotion in the residential district of the city. They formed ranks and began to move through the houses, searching for the invaders. The dragon riders were expecting such an a
ttack and scrambled to get into their ranks. By the time the city defenders reached them, they were ready.
Molkekk’s soldiers hit the invaders and immediately began to drive them backward. They pushed them back through the houses toward the wall. The skirmish was brutal and many soldiers from both sides fell. The dragon riders fought with the ferocity of tigers, but they could not compete with the numbers of the enemy. Thousands of troops continued to pour out of the enemy barracks, swelling the ranks of Molkekk’s army. The attackers could no longer stand up to the defending force and began a full-fledged retreat, practically running back to the city wall.
When they reached the wall, they found their way blocked by more enemy soldiers. They smashed into these with all their strength. Not even the superior numbers of Molkekk’s forces could keep the dragon riders off the wall; they hacked and stabbed their way up the stairs to their desired destination. This, however, opened them up to the fire of enemy archers. The first swarm of arrows killed three of their number and wounded a half dozen more. The next barrage did even more damage. The invasion was turning into an all-out slaughter.
Then the dragons intervened. A mass of flying, fire-breathing beasts dropped out of the clouds and dove toward the city. They slammed onto the ground and wall wherever the enemy soldiers were gathered, smashing men underfoot and killing others with their flames. The battle was turning in favor of the attackers.
******
Timothy was in one of the first ranks of soldiers, and so was afforded an unobstructed view of the gates of Vollexa Temp. They were every bit as impressive as he had imagined, and he shuddered at the very idea of trying to storm them. If such a tactic were tried, many soldiers would die, of this he was sure, so he found himself fervently willing their plan to work. The army came to a halt about a hundred yards from the massive gates and waited. No one came to challenge them; in fact, nothing happened at all. Timothy’s hopes died, and he realized their scam had failed. They would have to assault the gate if they were to ever get into the city.
Suddenly the gates gave a groan as they began to swing slowly open, and the army gave a collective sigh of relief. Timothy let out a breath that he had been holding and motioned for his men to begin moving. He had been put in charge of a group of soldiers with magical abilities of varying skill levels; one of them was his friend Vladimir. He would lead them in an assault on Molkekk’s tower; hopefully their combined power would be able to destroy it.
The army quickly mobilized and marched in through the gates of the city. A squad peeled off from the army and disappeared into the gatehouse. Moments later, they reappeared with blood on their swords. The army marched into the city and spread out. A commotion was coming from the east end, so they quickly made their way there.
Timothy separated his group from the rest of the army and led them toward the tower which occupied the center of the city. Only the tallest spires of the structure showed, but even they looked ominous. As the magicians drew nearer to the building, the walls hid it from sight. Timothy did not have trouble locating it, however; it was rank with the evil magic spreading from it like a blanket over the city. It was so blatant that even the weakest of magicians would have been able to sense it.
The group finally came to a gate separating the tower from the rest of the city. This entrance was nowhere as large as the main gate of the city and was barred with a score of locking spells. Many of these had deteriorated with time, but two had been created recently and were a force to be reckoned with. Timothy tried to break them by himself but was unable. The whole group of magicians prepared to apply their energy to the task, but Timothy felt uneasy. He couldn’t decide what he was feeling, but one thing was sure, it wasn’t good. Pushing the feeling aside, he gave the order to begin, and the whole group of magicians began to batter the gate. As they worked, Timothy’s unease returned, this time stronger. He tried to push it away again, but it would not be denied. As the magicians continued, the feeling grew until Timothy was beginning to feel that he couldn’t take it anymore. Then, in a moment of utter clarity, Timothy understood.
“Stop!” he shouted to his magicians. They froze and looked at him, but it was too late. Timothy cursed and threw his arms up in front of his face protectively. An explosion from one of the gate’s spells ripped across the distance and flung the magicians backward. They landed on the ground several yards away while bits of stone and wood from the gate rained down around them. Timothy rolled sideways to avoid a boulder-sized piece of rock; off to his right Vladimir was spinning a protective web over himself and the surrounding magicians. The stones from the wall bounced off of the shield and fell harmlessly around its perimeter. When the dust finally began to clear, Timothy tried to survey the damage. He was quickly able to locate all the squad members. Everyone had been injured to some degree, but no one had been killed.
“Is everyone alright?” Timothy called out, more to reassure his companions than for his own edification. “Everyone regroup on me.”
Slowly the magicians got up from where they had been thrown and staggered toward Timothy. They all looked awful, cuts and bruises covering their faces and any flesh unprotected by armor. Timothy guessed that he must look just as bad. Nevertheless, there appeared to be no broken bones or other serious injuries as Timothy had previously deduced, and the magicians cautiously stepped through the destroyed gate.
Molkekk's headquarters, which had been barely visible above the arch of the now-shattered gate, could now be seen in all its maleficent glory. It towered so high above the ground that it produced an odd sense of suffocation in Timothy. Or perhaps the feeling was caused by the sense of dark magic that seemed to boil out of the structure in a dark mist. The nearer he came to the tower, the darker the sky grew, and the more poignant his sense of foreboding became. Absently the magician wondered if the regular soldiers saw the same thing or if it was simply a bright, sunny day to them.
Though level at first, the path to the tower almost immediately began to rise, climbing the mound of earth and rock the structure was set atop. The foundation was so high that even the first story windows of the building soared above the tallest buildings below, affording an unobstructed view of the entire city. As Timothy studied them, he had the distinct feeling that eyes watched him from every pane of glass. What it must be like to live in this city every day! The tallest spires of the tower loomed five or six stories above the base, and flashes of magic jumped and crackled between them. The lightning would sometimes descend to the dozens of lower turrets covering the structure's faces, but only for a few seconds before returning to its apex. A small door at the bottom of the tower granted access to the building, and it was to this entrance that the broad road led the magicians.
It took ten minutes to reach the tower, much longer than Timothy had expected. And then there was the problem of the door. The entrance was only two feet high and obviously not intended for any one of the seven races to use. Timothy chuckled to himself over the attempt to keep intruders out of the tower and cast a shrinking spell. In no time at all, the magicians were the appropriate size and entered the tower easily. A long stone hallway greeted them. They moved down it to a door at the far end. The door was massive, towering above them by at least four times their current height, so Timothy released his shrinking spell and they returned to their normal sizes.
“Wait a moment,” Timothy said, stopping one of the group from opening the door. “This may be a bit overdue, but I think it's time to prepare for what we're about to encounter. If anyone has anything to say that might help us with what we are about face, I would like to hear it.”
“I have some experience with the wizard Molkekk,” Lemin spoke up and every eye turned to him. “There isn't a lot I can say that will prepare you for the specific spells or traps we might run into; indeed, I don't know if there is anyone who could give you such information. I will give a caution and an encouragement, though. First, remember that Molkekk is not some demi-god that we cannot stand up to. He is sufficiently pow
erful to change his shape at will, but he is still as mortal as we are. In fact, he is an elf by birth. He can be defeated, and we have more than enough skill and power to do it.
“To temper this, let me say that Molkekk is one of the most powerful magicians of this age. Not only is he powerful, he is clever. He is one of the most subtle magic users, magician or wizard, I have ever met. Don’t be surprised if you stumble into his spells unawares. He also favors spells that attack the mental and emotional aspects of the targets. We will have to specifically guard our emotions and mental abilities.”
“How do you know so much of Molkekk?” Timothy asked. “Have you fought him before?”
“That's a long story for a different time,” Lemin answered. “Ask me when we get out of this infernal place, and I'll tell you.”
“Very well,” Timothy said. “Does anyone else have anything to say?”
“This squad was put together because of our respective strengths,” an elf said. “Stick to what you do best and trust everyone else to do their job.”
There were a few more suggestions, but none that Timothy hadn't heard before. When there was nothing left to say, the magicians assumed a tactical formation. Due to his affinity with wards, Vladimir was the first through the door. He moved quickly, scanning for traps while the others followed cautiously behind him. They entered a large foyer with a staircase climbing each wall. In addition, there were three doorways: one to the left, one to the right, and one straight ahead. Timothy drew his sword and moved to the middle of the room; his men followed suit, gathering around him. He carefully scanned each hallway and staircase before moving toward the stairs on the left. Slowly he approached and stepped onto the first step. His foot sank right through the plank, disappearing half way up his shin. Quickly he stepped back from the stairs and drilled them with a hard stare.
