Cloak & Dagger: Book II of The Dragon Mage Trilogy
Page 37
Alric paused between killings to observe the spectacle. He was glad he wasn’t trapped in the courtyard. It was much safer out here. It had been a close call when the air elemental had sucked up the lizardmages. He had nearly been nearly drawn up in the whirlwind himself. His agility and speed had allowed him to escape the area in time. He had been close enough to the action to see that it was indeed Kazin who was flying around in his dragon form. How he had come back from dying of poison was a mystery, but he was glad the dragon was here now.
Rebecca appeared momentarily by the damaged part of the wall. She was incinerating ogres left and right, her magical dagger flashing with a white light each time it touched them. Cyril appeared beside her, his mace throwing orcs and ogres back without even coming in contact with them.
Alric set his jaw. He didn’t care much for the humans, but part of this was his fault. Furthermore, his friends were in there. He hated to admit it, but he had grown fond of the dwarf. Even the cleric and the unusual half cyclops were closer to him than he would have admitted. It was time to act. He scanned the battlefield. His first objectives were the catapults.
Kazin cast lightning bolts in every direction. Explosions and cries of pain were absorbed into the din of battle. A returning lightning bolt narrowly missed the dragon as he circled to repeat his offensive. A white form appeared at his side and he glanced over at it.
“I think you’re the primary target out here now,” said Frosty. “You’re going to need me to shield you from magic.”
Kazin nodded his head. “I think you’re right, Frosty. It’s getting harder to avoid those lizardmen.”
“We only have to hold them off a little while longer,” reminded Frosty.
“I know,” said Kazin. He looked down to see goblins running along the tops of the battlements on the south side where there were fewer defenders. Some grey mages intercepted them and paralyzed them. Then they threw the paralyzed figures over the wall to their deaths.
“It’s a good thing the grey mages are here,” said Kazin. “Without them we wouldn’t have a chance.”
“I agree,” said Frosty.
Kazin blew a swath of flames at the enemy and one of the catapults caught fire. The inferno was lost from sight as Kazin flew past. He was thankful the darkness made it harder for the enemy to see him coming.
He looked northward but still saw no sign of Sherman’s army. He was about to turn around when something caught his eye in the shadows below. It wasn’t obvious until he caught a glimpse of movement. It seemed as though the forest was moving. The dragon glanced over at the unicorn with a puzzled expression. “Did you see that?”
Frosty whinnied. His eyes twinkled. “They’re closer than I thought.”
“Who - oh!” exclaimed Kazin. “But how -?”
“You’ll see soon enough,” said Frosty.
Kazin gave a joyful laugh. “It’s about time!” He swooped around and continued to assault the enemy with renewed hope.
Cyril pushed back one ogre and kicked another one down. A third one raised an axe and swung it at the cyclops’ unprotected side. A pick appeared and blocked the attack. The handles of the weapons cracked together loudly. The pick drew back, yanking the axe from the ogre’s hand. Muscles rippled in the arms of the man as he brought the pick down on the ogre’s head, splitting it in two. Then he turned to the cyclops and looked at his chest as he spoke. “I guess I owe you an apology, cyclops.”
Cyril’s jaw dropped. He didn’t know what to say. His expression was just as surprised when the man raised his pick over his head and swung it right at Cyril. The pick sliced into flesh and bone and a gurgling noise accompanied it. Another ogre collapsed right beside the stunned cyclops.
“Don’t tell me you’re paralyzed,” joked the man.
“Jake?” mumbled Cyril.
The man turned to confront an orc wielding a mace. “That’s my name. Don’t wear it out.”
Cyril came out of his trance and did battle with two more orcs. He was amazed that Jake would fight alongside him after what he had done to him. But he was thankful he had come along when he did. They were on the same side in the battle, and any personal misgivings were set aside. Together, the two gardeners fought like seasoned warriors.
Lieutenant Farnsworth and Jerrin were now fighting alongside the skink warriors atop the battlements. Jim’s father fought with them. Beside him fought his friend the dwarf. Henry was now a very wealthy dwarf, and he vowed to help Bill Farnsworth rebuild his farm should they get out of this alive. But they had a war to win, and he wasn’t about to let a bunch of monsters part him from his wealth. He fought with the true spirit of a dwarf, hacking the creatures with his battle axe.
Jim and Jerrin issued orders to the defenders to repel the wall scalers. Activity was frantic, but the defenders were prevailing for the time being. Explosions, fireballs, ice bolts, and sounds of battle reverberated around the tower’s walls. Injured people were continuously being carried into the tower itself. Healed and partially healed people exited just as quickly. Healing became quicker with the full moon present. Clerics worked tirelessly to get their soldiers back into the fight.
It didn’t seem to be enough as the black tide started to overwhelm the defenders. They had gained a foothold on the battlements and pressed the defenders back ever so gradually. Tyris was still afraid of being summoned by lizardmages, so he avoided the battlements where he could be seen and potentially summoned. He elected to stay below, which was just as well. The portcullis had been shattered and enemies came through the opening in droves. The numbers of enemies here were small enough that Tyris was unlikely to be summoned, so he used his powers to maximum effect. With the aid of his mini elementals, he single-handedly prevented the enemies from establishing themselves in the courtyard. Bodies piled up rapidly in the entryway. Tyris’ inferno magic kept burning the pile down so more monsters could come in and meet their doom. With the entryway well-guarded, soldiers were freed up to help on the battlements.
Meanwhile, Kazin was in a quandary. He couldn’t prevent this advance without putting the defenders in jeopardy. He could only slow down the forces trying to climb the walls.
The fighting was so intense that no one noticed the attack until cries could be heard at the rear of the attackers. Lizardmen and army commanders were being assaulted from behind. Gradually, most of the attackers on the ground turned to see what was wrong. Skirmishing with the commanders were shadowy creatures that weren’t there a moment ago. Those who were close enough couldn’t believe their eyes. The shadowy figures were treemen, massive wooden figures with dozens of branches that were used like whips and clubs. Fireballs helped shed some light on the scene as lizardmen set the attackers ablaze.
There were an astounding number of treemen, and they were huge, bigger than the ones on the island of the Tower of the Moon. As they advanced, more and more monsters had to turn to contend with these creatures. Gradually, some soldiers appeared alongside the treemen, wielding axes and swords with great skill. Many of these soldiers were big men, known among the humans as barbarians. None were known to reside in this part of the world, yet here they were in full force.
When they saw what was happening, the defenders cried out in joy. No one had expected reinforcements. What had looked like a lost cause had turned into hope for victory. Years after this war, survivors would call this war the Battle of Hope.
A catapult suddenly cast a pile of boulders well short of the tower. It landed in a dense group of lizardmen and killed a majority of them. Commotion ensued around the catapult but no enemies could be found - only dead lizardmen and ogres.
Another catapult failed to launch when a winch rope failed to tighten. Upon closer examination, the rope appeared to have been cut. There was no time to repair it as a group of treemen waded into the scene.
West of the tower, the sailors had regained the shoreline now that the air elemental was gone. With their ships in position once again, they were able to provide cannon support for th
eir ground troops. Slowly, they made headway against the hordes of darkness.
Slong’s army was being pushed eastward, but a group of cavalry suddenly appeared, led by General Larsen. It was a small force, but these riders were the elite cavalry that had survived until now. They effectively cut off escape on that side, running down stragglers with ease.
Slong turned to the threat closest to him in the north. Where had these treemen come from? There were no mages here capable of creating so many treemen. Only druids were capable of such magic. He caught a glimpse of some robed figures and was stunned. There were spell casters present! And so many! The lizardman general decided to find the leader of this latest threat. If he could find the leader and kill him, there was a good chance the enemy would falter. His forces were still numerous enough to beat back the treemen and soldiers.
Then he saw the opposing general. He was a large man wearing the full regalia of royal chain mail. Long, shoulder length brown hair protruded from a horned helmet that glistened in the light of the burning trees. The sword he wielded was massive, and he swung it like a scythe, cutting down foes like blades of grass. The muscles on his arms strained and flexed tirelessly as he fought, and his legs were like tree trunks. He stood a full seven feet tall, towering over the ordinary humans who fought at his side.
Slong was no slouch. He was a military commander for a reason. It was time for him to prove himself as he had done many times in the past. He expertly cut through several soldiers and set a couple of treemen ablaze to get closer to his quarry. With a casual wave of his hand, he cast a spell. The din and roar of battle were replaced by dead calm. The battlefield was replaced by an endless wall of blackness. The only things present were Slong and the enemy commander.
The commander paused in mid swing and straightened, his eyes finding the lizardman general. “Wha -? Who -? What is this?” he burst out. His voice seemed faint and distant as the darkness swallowed the sound of his words.
Slong sneered. This was how he dealt with enemy commanders. He preferred to isolate them from the security of their army. Alone, they were rarely confident. Most generals were cowards who boasted of their bravery with large armies at their disposal. When faced alone, they often showed fear and even cowardice.
“You will die here,” said Slong.
Sherman raised his sword. “Not if I can help it.”
Slong sneered again. “Surrender. You cannot kill me.” He indicated the expanse of nothingness around them. “If you do, you will never leave this void. You need my magic to return you to your kind.”
“I don’t believe you,” snarled Sherman.
Slong shrugged. “It’s up to you. If I kill you, you will die quickly. If you kill me, you will wander this void until you lose your sanity.” The lizardman chuckled. “You can’t even die of thirst or hunger. If your forces win the war, they will find your body and see that you are still alive. They will keep you alive by giving you water and food, and maybe even keep you alive with magic. As long as your body still lives, they will not give up hope that one day you will wake up from your coma. You would be trapped in this void for years. And even if a way was eventually found to bring you back, your mind won’t be able to accept it. You will be declared mad to the end of your days.”
Sherman mulled this over for a moment. Then he asked, “What will happen to you if I kill you here?”
Slong laughed. “That’s the best part! I will be removed from this place and reappear on the battlefield. In your mind, I will be dead, but in reality, I will still live on. And even if I wanted to, I could never come back to this place and time in the void. You would be lost forever!”
The big warrior shook his head. “I don’t believe you.” He raised his weapon.
“That’s your mistake to make,” said Slong, readying his own sword. “I will live no matter what you do.”
Sherman lunged. His swing was vicious, but the lizardman nimbly dodged the attack. Then he quickly counterattacked with his own sword. The warrior barely had time to parry. Sherman lunged again, and again the lizardman danced away. On a backhanded swing, the lizardman sliced into Sherman’s left leg. The great warrior stumbled but did not cry out. Sherman faced his opponent squarely this time. It was the first time he had ever encountered such an agile lizardman. He was caught off guard by the skill with which the lizardman handled his sword. This creature was not going to be easy to kill, especially with magic at its disposal. Then something occurred to Sherman. It was something Kazin had once told him.
“You are a liar,” said Sherman through clenched teeth. He tested the lizardman with a few quick slashes.
Slong easily parried the blows. “How do you figure?”
Sherman continued his assault and pretended to be weakening. “It’s something someone told me once.”
Slong parried the blows again. “And what might that be?”
“That lizardmen can’t cast more than one spell at a time,” said Sherman. He did a couple of sword thrusts to keep the lizardman on his toes.
The lizardman stumbled but kept his composure. “Is that how you want to die? I have a number of lethal spells that can put you out of your misery quickly.”
“You can’t cast them right now,” said Sherman. “After all, you have to use your magic for this little arena of yours.” He started to swing at the lizardman with more energy.
Slong grunted with the impact. He was reduced to parrying. He couldn’t get in any more offensive swings with his sword. He sneered. “This spell already exists. I can cast a new spell any time I want.”
Sherman raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really?” He kept the lizardman on the defensive. “I’m no genius when it comes to magic, but I know a spell of this magnitude requires continuous magic to maintain. Besides, if you could cast magic, you would have done so by now.”
Slong was breathing heavily now. The strength of the warrior was becoming too much for him. Nevertheless, he held his cool. “Alright. I’ll prove you’re wrong.” He held out his arm and pointed at Sherman while chanting.
Sherman was fairly certain he was right, but he wasn’t about to prove it by letting his adversary kill him. He sliced off Slong’s arm and decapitated him on the back swing. An instant later, he was on the battlefield again. The noise of battle was deafening. The leader of the lizardmen lay before him on the battlefield, his head and arm lying off to the side. The encounter with Slong had taken place in the blink of an eye in real time. When Slong’s subordinates saw their dead leader, some of them broke and ran. Others put up a fight but were quickly subdued.
The tide of war was turning. Without leadership, the hordes of darkness began losing ground on all fronts. But it was no easy task for the humans to win either. The sheer numbers of the enemy kept fighting on until dawn. Halfway through the night, the tower’s battlements were re-secured.
As the sun finally crested the horizon, the last of the monsters was battling their way through the living forest. Most were torn limb from limb. The few that managed to escape fled to the safety of the mountains. They had suffered a defeat they would not soon forget.
Chapter 34
The sky began to clear, revealing the nearly full moon. It was strangely quiet as the raft coasted into the inlet. No sentries were noticeable along the shoreline, but Brind took no chances. He cast a ‘detect’ spell to make sure he was alone. Satisfied that no one else was in the vicinity, he put the raft ashore. Then he waited quietly. If everything went as planned, Graf was supposed to meet him shortly after midnight. Brind wasn’t concerned about whether Graf could find him. It was easy for the lizardmage to locate him using magic.
Brind took the opportunity to explore his immediate surroundings and stepped ashore. In the shrubbery nearby, he discovered the body of a human sentry. He smiled. Graf had definitely been here alright. The lizardmage wondered if Graf’s plan was working.
It wasn’t long before a rustling sound could be heard as someone approached the inlet. Brind remained concealed and waited. A clo
aked figure came into view, barely visible in the moonlight. The figure turned in Brind’s direction. “You can come out, Brind.”
Brind recognized Graf’s voice so he came out of cover. “Graf. How are things going?”
“So far so good,” said Graf. “You have the cargo?”
“Yes,” said Brind. He led Graf to the raft and climbed aboard. Toward the back of the raft was a large object covered with a tarp. The lizardmage removed the tarp, revealing the sleeping form of the hydra. The creature stirred.
“Perfect,” said Graf. “Did it give you any trouble?”
Brind grunted. “It talked too much so I gave it lots of food to shut it up. Then, after all the heads fell asleep, it never made so much as a peep.”
“Excellent,” said Graf. “Now it’s time to put this creature to work.”
“I’m not a creature!” protested Frag, raising her head.
“Of course not!” said Graf condescendingly.
“What’s going on?” said the head known as Garf.
“Apparently we have work to do,” said Frag.
“I’m hungry,” yawned Gif.
“You just ate all your supplies a few hours ago!” retorted Brind.
“Oh,” said Gif dejectedly.
“You’ll have plenty of meat to eat once you’ve done what I tell you to do,” said Graf sullenly.
“What do you want us to do?” asked Frag.
“Just follow me and keep quiet,” said Graf. “I’ll tell you what to do when the time comes.”
“What do you want me to do?” asked Brind.
“Stay here until I get back,” said Graf. “I’ll be a while, so stay out of sight.”
Brind nodded. “Good luck.”
Graf grimaced. “It has nothing to do with luck. It’s all in the planning. After tonight, the humans will be all but vanquished. With the Tower of Hope and the Tower of Sorcery defeated, the humans will have no choice but to surrender to our superior magic!”
Brind grinned. “I can’t wait.”