The Doom Brigade

by Don Perrin

  Kang’s heart sank, his hopes dashed.

  “And how can that spell be cast?” Kang asked bitterly. “We have no dark clerics among us, no black-robed wizards.”

  “You do not need them,” said Huzzad calmly. “Their work has been done. You need only a wand, a very special wand.”

  “How will I know it?”

  “The wand is made of obsidian and is as long as your forearm. The bodies of five dragons twine around it, each dragon made of precious gems. The heads of the dragons join at the top, their tails twine together at the bottom. The knowledge of how to use this wand will come to you when needed. Speak my name. That is all that is required. The wand will do the rest.”

  “Thank you, Sir Knight. Tell Her Majesty”—Kang was choked with emotion—“that I do not know how to thank her.”

  “She has a way,” said Huzzad and her voice was grim. “Deep inside Thorbardin live those who will, if they are not stopped, be Krynn’s doom.”

  “We will destroy them!” Kang vowed, clenching his fist. “If you want us to wipe out every dwarf in Thorbardin, every dwarf on Ansalon, we will do it!”

  “Not dwarves, Kang,” said Huzzad. “Haven’t you been listening? The enemy you may be called upon to face is far more terrible than any living enemy you could possibly face on Krynn. These are the creatures of Chaos.”

  “What are they?” Kang asked.

  Huzzad stared intently into the darkness, stared back into the Vision. At length, she shook her head. “No, I cannot tell. All I see is fire, the heroes withering and dying in the flames. I see the world itself withering and dying. I am sorry, Kang. I know nothing more. Here my Vision ends and so does my message.”

  “Then how do we know what we’re supposed to fight?” Kang asked, frustrated. “How will we know when we meet these fiends—the Dark Queen’s enemies?”

  “When you see her sign. This sign”—Huzzad released Kang’s hand. With her finger, she traced around the image of the five-headed dragon on his breastplate—“you will know that what you do you do for Her Dark Majesty and at her behest and with her blessing.”

  Huzzad rose to her feet. “That is my message, Kang. I’m sorry if it is not clearer. I hope you find the eggs. I hope your race survives.”

  Kang stood up. “I hope we all survive. Thank you, Sir Knight. Thank you for coming. You’ve brought me great hope.”

  The two walked to the cavern entrance and paused, loath to go out into the baking sun.

  “We are near Thorbardin. The dwarves patrol this area sometime. Do you need an escort?” Kang asked. I could detail two of my men.…”

  “No, thank you, Kang.” Huzzad reached beneath her leather armor, drew out an amulet of a red dragon on a silver chain. “My mount is within call.”

  “Good-bye, then, Sir Knight,” Kang said, adding, “Where do you go now?”

  “To the High Clerist’s Tower,” Huzzad replied. “Who knows? Perhaps I will be among that band of heroes to make that last, fateful ride. Farewell, Commander.”

  “Farewell, Sir Knight,” Kang said. “Glory and the Dark Queen ride with you.”

  Huzzad left the cavern, followed a trail that led her higher up the mountain. Kang watched her until she passed out of his line of sight. Even then, he remained at the cavern entrance for long moments, pondering what had been said, going over her words in his mind.

  Kang drew out the holy symbol, held it in his palm. Then he presented the symbol to the fiery sun. It seemed to him that the symbol, tinged with a red light, was dipped in blood.

  Humbly, he sank to his knees and thanked Her Dark Majesty for her favor. The dwarf had spoken truly. The eggs were draconian eggs, female draconians! At last, he and his men had a future to contemplate.

  Even in his joy, Kang did not miss the cruel irony. Now that they finally had something to live for, he had just pledged their lives to fight these creatures of Chaos, whatever those might be.

  Yet, if only a few of his draconians survived the battle and—Kang gloried in the thought—the young female draconians could be rescued from their egg-shell prisons, their future would be assured.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  When Kang awoke, he realized that night was falling. He was tired, but the warmth of his Queen’s approval eased the weariness. In addition, she had given him the spells he had requested. It was time to be moving.

  Returning to camp, he found Slith just waking up.

  “Did you get any rest, sir?” Slith asked.

  “Some,” Kang said.

  He considered telling Slith that he’d seen Huzzad, that she’d brought a message to him from the Queen. Kang rejected the idea. Slith was an excellent soldier and the best friend Kang had in the world, but Slith was cynical when it came to humans. He would immediately start to poke holes in Huzzad’s story, and before long he’d have Kang doubting Huzzad, doubting the Queen, doubting himself.

  No, better to keep both hope and fear locked inside.

  * * * * *

  The draconians were on march once the sun had fully set. This Helefundis pass was a difficult one to traverse. The draconians tied themselves together with ropes for safety. Kang ordered all of them to bind their mouths with lengths of cloth. If anyone did fall, Kang didn’t want them to give away their position by screaming.

  The troop spent the night crossing the pass. They reached the other side of the ridge an hour before sunup. Kang ordered a halt.

  “Rest while we can. Once it’s light, we’ll start the search.”

  The sun rose, blistering the Kharolis Mountains, flooding the valleys with heat. Before them, hidden in the mountain, was the great dwarven city of Thorbardin, the gates shut against the threat of the dark knights, the mountain sealed. Thousands upon thousands of dwarves were inside there, waiting and alert for attack. And Kang and twenty draconians were going to try to sneak inside.

  Kang let his imagination play with the notion of what would happen if he and his small band were discovered. There wouldn’t be any graves to worry about. That much was sure.

  With daylight, Gloth ordered the troop to spread out, try to find the dwarves’ trail.

  They hadn’t been searching long before Slith yelled. “Here, sir!”

  Kang hastened over to look. The grass had been beaten down, and a twig on the end of a bush had been broken.

  “You and I’ll follow this. The rest of you, stay here. Oh, and, Slith, leave any rope you’re carrying behind.”

  Slith looked a bit startled at this strange request, but did as his commander ordered. He and Kang took over, following the trail, which was extremely clear. They even found bits of bread and other food tossed aside. The dwarves weren’t being at all careful to conceal their tracks. Evidently they had no idea they were being followed.

  “Either that or they’re luring us on with bread crumbs like the witch in the kender-tale,” said Slith. “She ended up cooking the children, I hear.”

  “We’ll see who cooks whom, if that’s the case,” Kang growled.

  They made good progress for nearly a mile, and then, unaccountably, the trail vanished. The draconians stood in front of a rock wall that was, to all appearances, solid.

  “What now, sir?” Slith asked.

  “I have a spell that allows me to find certain objects. I figure that if the dwarves are entering the mountain, using a secret entrance, that entrance must be an old mine shaft or maybe an air hole. What else could it be?”

  Slith gave the matter thought. “Right, sir.”

  “And, if that’s the case, they’ll have to use rope to lower themselves down. I’ll cast a magical spell that searches for rope.”

  “That’s ingenious, sir.” Slith was impressed. “And so simple. That’s why you made me leave my rope behind.”

  “I already know where you are,” Kang said, grinning.

  “What happens if they haven’t used rope, sir?”

  Kang grunted. “Then we have a problem. Let’s just hope that’s not the case.”

 
; He held a forked stick in his right hand. Speaking the words of the spell, he drew a symbol in the air with his left hand, held out the stick. He and Slith gazed at it expectantly.

  The stick didn’t move.

  “Damn! The entrance must be here somewhere! The blasted dwarves didn’t fly off. Search north for any signs,” Kang said, frustrated. “I’ll follow this wall south. Five hundred paces, then meet me back here.”

  “Well?” Kang asked, when the two met up again.

  “I haven’t found anything, sir. Should I call down the rest of the troop?”

  “No, not with all the rope they’re carrying.” Kang thought the matter through. “Let’s look at this logically. A mine shaft or an air hole would have to come to the surface somewhere higher than ground level. Otherwise, the mine below would flood every time it rained.”

  “You’re right, sir. I never thought of that.” Slith looked around, suddenly pointing west. “What about up there?”

  He gestured toward a small rock butte, several hundred yards away. He and Kang hastened over, searching on the way for tracks.

  “Ah, ha!” Slith pointed to a small fir seedling that had been trampled into the ground.

  Kang climbed the first rock, leading up to the butte. He tried his spell again and this time the stick moved in his hand, moved so violently that he nearly dropped it. The stick pointed upward.

  Excited, Kang climbed onto the next rock, only to find the way blocked by a hedge of bramble bushes. The forked stick pointed directly at the brambles.

  “Look at this, sir!” Slith cried.

  Reaching out, he plucked a few strands of brown hair from the brambles. “That came from a dwarf beard, or my wings don’t flap. And, see, sir? There’s others broken, and more hair, and here’s a bit of cloth. They came this way, that’s for certain.”

  Kang forced his way through the thorns, which had little effect on his scaled hide. Below the bramble bush, they found a large stone cover, looking like a plug in the side of the mountain.

  “Let’s get rid of this mess,” Slith said, drawing his sword and attacking the brambles.

  Kang replaced his stick on his belt. The two chopped the thorns away from the stone cover. Once clear, they each lifted one side of the stone. It came off easily.

  Below them, a hole opened up, leading straight down and vanishing into darkness. Plainly visible in the sunlight were ropes, attached to grapples on the side of the wall.

  “We’re in!” Kang said.

  Chapter Thirty

  The dwarves descended the ropes leading down into the air shaft. The descent was accomplished with an immense amount of clumping, banging, swearing, and talking in what they considered loud whispers, which would have been shouts to any other race.

  Leading the way down, Selquist cringed. Thorbardin was a considerable distance away, but with the noise this troop was making, he wouldn’t have been surprised to find every Hylar dwarf in the place down at the bottom awaiting their arrival. The worst of it was, Moorthane and his soldier dwarves thought they were being both sneaky and stealthy.

  “Try to be a little more quiet!” he ventured to call softly, when he had reached the bottom.

  “What’d he say?” boomed Moorthane.

  “Dunno, can’t hear,” came back several loud replies, along with a dropped pickax that crashed to the ground with an unholy clang and nearly took off Selquist’s foot.

  “Chemosh take the lot of you,” Selquist muttered into his beard. “Now what’s the matter?” he asked Mortar, who was next down.

  The dwarf landed, shook his head. “It’s not right,” he said. “It’s just not right.”

  “What isn’t right?” Selquist thought something had gone wrong up top.

  “I shouldn’t be here,” Mortar said in a low voice. “I promised Reorx I wouldn’t steal anymore and—”

  “Oh, for the love of—” Selquist sighed. “We’ve been through this, Mortar. What we’re doing is not stealing. The stealing’s been done for us. We’re”—he searched for inspiration—“being thrifty. Making use of valuable resources which would otherwise go to waste.”

  Mortar hesitated, considered this new idea. “We’re not receivers of stolen merchandise?”

  “No, no,” Selquist said soothingly. “The statute of limitations is up on this crime. The owners have collected the insurance money. They don’t want any of the stuff back. It’s free for the taking.”

  “Oh.” Mortar thought this over, liked it, and waited to impart this information to his brother, who was now descending.

  Selquist shook his head. As if he didn’t have enough trouble, now he had to deal with a dwarf who had developed a conscience! Sometimes it didn’t pay to get out of bed. Grabbing hold of Auger, who had just landed, Selquist took him in tow and hastened over to the other rope, down which the soldier dwarves were rattling.

  Moorthane had finally reached ground level. Standing at the bottom, he was shouting encouragement to those above.

  Selquist used admirable restraint and did not throttle the war chief.

  “Moorbrain,” he said, poking the chief in the back.

  “Huh?” Moorthane jumped and turned. He glared when he saw who it was. “The name’s Moorthane and what do you want?”

  “Auger and I are going to do a little scouting. You and the rest wait for us down this tunnel.”

  Moorthane frowned, suspicious. “Where are you going? Not thinking of ditching us and running off with the treasure, are you?”

  Selquist asked for patience, lest he smash the war chief’s teeth down his throat. “No, I’m not. I’m leaving Mortar and Pestle here, as proof I’ll return. They have the map. As to where I’m going, I’m going to take a look inside Thorbardin. You’re making enough racket to wake the Eighth Kingdom! We should see if the Hylar are up in arms yet.”

  It was obvious Moorthane didn’t like this, but he had to admit that, from a military standpoint, scouting the enemy made good sense. And he remained in possession of Mortar, who was in possession of the map.

  “All right,” Moorthane growled. “But don’t take long. If you’re not back in an hour, we’re going on without you.”

  Selquist gave a curt nod. He and Auger left, accompanied by the clatter of a dropped shovel.

  “Where are we going?” Auger asked, after a moment. “This is a different direction than we went the last time.”

  Once out of sight of the expeditionary party, Selquist climbed what appeared to be a sheer wall, but which, Auger discovered by experiment, turned out to have several hand and foot-holds carved into the rock. At the top, Selquist entered another shaft. This one was small; the dwarves were forced to crawl through it on their hands and knees and even then they bumped their heads on the ceiling.

  “Like I told Moorthane,” said Selquist. “We’re going to take a look and see what’s going on in Thorbardin.”

  “Really?” Auger was amazed. “You meant it?”

  “Of course,” said Selquist in lofty tones. “I don’t lie all the time.”

  “Why didn’t we take this way before?” Auger asked. Despite bumping their heads and scraping their hands on the rock, this route seemed easier than the last.

  “You’ll see,” Selquist predicted and, at the end, Auger saw.

  The tunnel ended abruptly, opening out into nothing. Auger, peering fearfully over the edge, saw the city of Thorbardin far, far below. The dwarves moving around down there looked like ants in an ant hill he’d once stepped on. He gulped and scooted backward, clinging to the sides of the tunnel with both hands.

  “I don’t like this,” he said in a small voice. “Let’s go back!”

  “Just a minute.” Selquist was hanging perilously over the edge, staring down. Just looking at him made Auger feel queasy. “Something’s going on. I’ve never seen this many people about. I can’t see what they’re doing, but it looks like …”

  He fell silent.

  “Yes? What? Can we go now?” Auger whimpered, shivering.
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br />   “They’re at war,” said Selquist, finally.

  Auger’s eyes widened. “With the dark knights? But I thought the Hylar closed the mountain!”

  “They did,” said Selquist. “They’re at war with each other.”

  He pulled himself back, didn’t speak for a long time. He sat so quietly and looked so solemn that Auger was frightened.

  “They’re not coming after us, are they?”

  “No, they’re not coming after us.” Selquist sighed. “They’ve got bigger problems. Dwarf fighting dwarf. It just doesn’t seem right, somehow.”

  “Humans fight each other all the time,” Auger pointed out.

  “That’s humans.” Selquist was scornful. “We’re supposed to be better than that.”

  “Who’s fighting who?” Auger asked.

  “I can’t tell for sure. My guess would be the Theiwar have finally done what they’ve threatened to do all these years. They’re trying to take over rulership of Thorbardin. The fighting seems to be spreading out from their city—the one we visited the last time we were here.”

  Auger, remembering the barmaid and her side-whiskers, expressed a hope that no one would get hurt.

  “It’s war, Auger,” Selquist said. “A lot of people will get hurt.” He shook his head, shrugged. “Oh, well. At least that’s one threat we don’t have to worry about.”

  He turned and started crawling back down the tunnel.

  “Good thing, too,” said Auger, coming along behind. “What with those draconians following us.”

  Selquist bumped his head hard on the ceiling. Twisting around, he glared back at Auger. “What did you say?”

  “I said it was a good thing we didn’t have to worry about the Hylar.”

  “I don’t mean that! The part about the draconians.”

  “They’re following us. Didn’t you know?”

  “Well, of course, I knew,” Selquist snapped. “It was my idea that they follow us. But no one else is supposed to know. Does anyone else know?” He appeared anxious. “Did you tell anyone?”