The War of the Lance t2-3

by Margaret Weis

"They'll have the Green Wing to support them. And Emperor Ariakus has sent the Red Wing from Neraka as a reinforcement. Too, we don't have any idea where the reserve army has gone," argued Sir Rose.

  "We have dragonlances," cried Gilthanas. "We can meet these serpents in the skies, finally, and defeat them!"

  "The weapon, so far, has only proven itself in the closed confines of the tower!" Patrick growled back.

  "That is true," Laurana agreed. "But I don't intend to fight all the dragons at once. That's why it's so important that we MOVE!"

  "But a major river crossing!" objected Patrick. "You can't imagine the difficulties! And if we're caught with the army divided — "

  "Our dragons will screen the crossing. And I intend to reach the Vingaard too quickly for anything but a token force to stand in our way."

  "But there's the fortress itself — Vingaard Keep has a massive garrison!" persisted Patrick. "Anywhere we cross puts us in easy reach of a counterattack!"

  "That brings me to the next part of the plan," Laurana announced, pausing to make sure she had the attention of all the men. "Vingaard will be liberated — tomorrow."

  The knights, to a man, stared at the general in amazement. All knew that Vingaard Keep was three days' ride by horse.

  At this point, the Council's voices grew hushed and confidential, so the rest of the conversation is lost to Mellison's diary — and to history. The results of this historic and clandestine conversation are known.

  The following dawn, the skies over the High Clerist's Tower were filled with dragons — their metallic colors dappling the ground with moving reflections of the brilliant sunrise. Laurana, astride the huge gold dragon Quallathon, led the way. A wing of griffon cavalry, mounted with elven bowmen and lancers — lately arrived from Southern Ergoth — flew beside the great serpents. Altogether, two hundred of the half-hawk, half-lion beasts accompanied an equal number of dragons soaring southeast toward Vingaard — eighty miles away across the flat plain. Their bodies blackened the sky.

  At the same time, the army moved out. Led by the knights on horseback, accompanied by the blue-garbed troops of Palanthas and a large and growing force of irregulars recruited from Solamnia and Ergoth, the soldiers of Laurana's command marched to the northeast. The diverging paths were obvious to all. The flying army was on its own, the battle would be won or lost long before the troops on the ground could arrive.

  Gilthanas, in an extensive letter to Porthios, gives us a vivid picture of this assault — the first time the good dragons took the offensive in the war.

  "Within four hours our dragons drew within sight of mighty Vingaard Keep, standing on the near bank of the river that bears the same name.

  "For more than a year, the dragonarmies had held the fortress, and their presence formed a bleak shroud around the once-grand castle. Layers of soot clouded the walls, and rubble-strewn fields surrounded the high towers, where once thrived lush crops of grain.

  "I never knew such exhilaration and excitement. Silvara tucked in her wings and plunged toward the city. Wind lashed my hair and stung my face. The ground approached with dizzying speed, and I felt a fierce joy.

  "At last the dragonarmies would get a taste of the terror they had spread so wantonly across Ansalon. Silvara's challenging bellow thundered through the air, echoed by scores of silver and golden throats.

  "The draconians lining the walls quivered and shook under the awe of dragonfear, and only ceased their trembling as they died. Clouds of horrific breath expelled by the good dragons swept the draconian ranks, slaying them where they stood. Blistering heat from the brass and gold dragons mingled with the lightning bolts spit by the bronze; spurts of acid from the copper dragons pooled on the paving stones beside the chilling blasts of ice spouting from the silver wyrms.

  "A few evil dragons, mostly blues, had taken refuge in the city after the battle at Westgate. Now, these rose to meet us, spitting lightning bolts, carrying their riders into the fray. But even as they rose, the magic of the gold dragons smashed the leaders from the skies. Then a rank of knights led by Silvara and me, carrying dragonlances shining as bright as silver dragonwings, met the enemy and ripped into the blues.

  "Silvara reached out with rending claws and tore the wing from one of the blues. I watched the crippled creature plunge to its death. Then a bolt of lightning crackled past my head. Quickly I raised my lance as Silvara shrieked. Her head, of silvered steel, struck the back of the blue wyrm and that serpent, fatally pierced, followed its fellow to the ground. The other good dragons whirled passed us, slaying the remainder of the blues before their deadly breath weapons could begin to tell.

  "Within an hour, brother, the good dragons had settled to the rooftops and towers of the city, spewing their deadly breath while the griffon-mounted elves showered the remaining defenders with arrows. For the whole day the dragons remained perched on all the high places in the city, following the plan of our general."

  Gilthanas was all for pursuing the enemy troops into their hiding holes, driving them from the city, but his sister insisted on patience. There would be no pursuit. Instead, the dragons of good would occupy every vantage point in the city, barring any draconian from appearing in the light of day.

  This patience paid off in lives. Seeing that their hated enemies were not about to depart, the troops of the dragon-army abandoned Vingaard Keep during the night. Some fled south, fearing the spring-swollen river as much as they did the good dragons. Many of these were humans, who hoped to blend into the populace. A great number of these, it is known from the records of the knighthood, joined the ranks of Laurana's army by the end of the campaign. Others stole what boats they could or, in the case of draconians, tried to use their wings to carry them across the deep torrent. (Fully half of the latter are believed to have perished in the attempt.) When the sun next rose over Vingaard Keep, the fortress was held by the good dragons and their elven allies.

  The few humans who had survived the long and brutal occupation crept from their shadowed rooms into the sunrise. They caught sight of Laurana's hair, trailing from her helm like a pennant of streaming gold in her wake. Those long golden locks could be seen a mile away on the battlefield.

  "Hail to the General of the Golden Banner!" they cried. Soon it became "Hail to the Golden General!"

  And the Vingaard Campaign had begun.

  Next I journey to that keep. Excellency, there to sit upon the banks of the river — and ponder the next example of Laurana's audacity, the crossing of the Vingaard.

  In devotion, as ever,

  Foryth Teel, Senior Scribe of Astinus

  To the Great Astinus, Lorekeeper of Krynn,

  I am here, now, at the shore of the Vingaard River. The season is spring, as it was when Laurana ordered her forces across — and I cannot but wonder at the courage and vision that compelled an army to ford its murky depths. Now, when the snow is melting in the Dargaard Mountains and along the north slopes of the Garnet Range, the river runs high and deep. It seems propelled by anger, roaring across this great plain toward the distant seaport of Kalaman, nearly two hundred miles away.

  During its course, the river passes within a dozen miles of Dargaard Keep, yet in the next weeks Laurana would dare to bypass that dark bastion and press on to her destination — but I get ahead of myself. First, I must describe the crossing. The land troops of the Army of Solamnia reached the banks of the river after a three-day forced march from Westgate.

  We know from the multiple sources that the good dragons, fresh from their victory at Vingaard, joined the landbound army at the banks of the river, some forty miles north of the liberated fortress. The Vingaard is wide and deep here, navigable only by ferries — except in a dry summer, when a few fords appear. Such was not the case that spring, of course. Here, we see another example of the elven general's ingenuity — for she employed a tactic that no by-the-book Knight of Solamnia could have imagined in his most daring dreams.

  She ferried the troops across the river — by air! One
can imagine the shrill neighing of the knight's terrified horses as they were hoisted aloft, gently, in the claws of the largest of the great dragons. Or the poor, trembling foot soldiers, mounted six or eight to a dragon, eyes squeezed tightly shut, praying to the gods of good (or any others!) for their very survival.

  It was still a long, slow process. Mellison records that her mistress camped at the shore of the river for three days — we can assume that this was the time required to cross. The baggage train, which had been light to begin with, was abandoned here. From now on the army would survive on the food it could capture or forage. A screen of flying griffons, mounted with elves, guarded the crossing.

  The fears of the knights — that the army would be attacked by massive dragonforces in the midst of the crossing — proved unfounded, for two reasons. First, the rout of Vingaard Keep had sent the nearest enemy wing into chaotic flight; and second, the sheer speed of Laurana's march seemed to have taken the Highlords by complete surprise. We know from his own records, for example, that by the time Ariakus learned the Golden General had left Westgate Pass, the Army of Solamnia was already gathered on the east bank of the Vingaard.

  One small force did try to disrupt the crossing. Highlord Toede sent six of his green dragons from Throtl to investigate the activities of Laurana's army. The beasts could have wreaked terrible havoc on the heavily laden good dragons, but the griffon-mounted elves intercepted them a few miles from the river. Nearly a quarter of the griffons and their riders fell during that skirmish in the skies. It was a tragic and irreplaceable loss, but none of the greens survived to pursue the attack. Gilthanas writes a long eulogy to the bravery of the griffon-mounted elves and even the official records of the Solamnian Knights, Excellency, include generous words about their sacrifice!

  Her forces again assembled on the opposite bank of the river, Laurana was determined to maintain the speed and unpredictability of her advance. (It is ironic to note that this young elf maid grasped, intuitively, principles of warfare that veteran knights, too long hidebound by doctrine, resisted until the proof became too overwhelming to deny. Thank goodness for Laurana's persistence.)

  Once again, it is the servant Mellison who provides our look into the planning of operations, for she served tea to Laurana and her captains as they planned their next move.

  Present were the same five: Sir Markham, Sir Patrick, "Sir Rose," "Lord Sword," and Gilthanas of Qualinesti. Laurana announced her intention to move on Kalaman. Patrick protested. "But we know that Ariakus had ten thousand troops in Sanction! They could have been on the march for three weeks — and now you want to leave our flank unprotected. The river now guards us. If we march from here, we expose the whole army to an attack from the rear!"

  "Our wagons are left behind," Laurana pointed out, coolly. "Therefore, the rear of our army is as easy to defend as the front — even more so, if the enemy expects to encounter a defenseless baggage train, but instead meets the steel of charging knights."

  "True, true," noted Lord Sword. "But we move so far from the pass — Palanthas is all but defenseless."

  "I realize that, my lord," Laurana explained patiently. "But I'm betting that the Highlords are no longer concerned with that city. Their attention must be riveted upon US! This army is a far greater threat than they have ever faced before. They'll need to concentrate and destroy us. Ariakus — and Kitiara too — will assume they have plenty of time for Palanthas after we've been destroyed."

  "Are they wrong?" demanded Patrick.

  "Only in the assumption that they'll find us!" Laurana retorted. "That's why it's so important to move quickly!"

  "There will be opposition," Markham pointed out. "The Red Wing is out there, and portions of two others — not to mention the reserve army."

  "Of course. But with speed, we'll be able to meet these forces — and defeat them — one at a time. It's essential that we bring the Red Wing to battle before Ariakus can join with his allies!"

  "But if you're wrong, you risk — "

  "I risk what, Sir Patrick?" Laurana snapped. "Would you go back to the days of cowering behind the stone walls of your fortress, waiting for the enemy to attack? And if we win against that attack, then what — we wait for the next, and the next until our forces are depleted, our supplies gone? Better to stake this army on the hope of a real victory — one that will do more than protect Palanthas. We take the war into the heart of the dragonrealms! Only then will our enemies face the prospect of defeat!"

  (Excellency, if Mellison did not exaggerate the words, I can only assume that the Golden General quite lost her temper. It is hard to imagine her using a term like "cower" to the proud knight. However, it seemed to have had the effect of silencing him, if nothing else.)

  "We know that much of the Green Wing remains in Throtl," continued the elven princess. "Tomorrow, at first light, I will lead the dragons against them. If we can scatter the ogre ground forces, so much the better. The main body, in the meantime, will continue its march to the northeast. I want the Highlords to believe that Dargaard is our next destination."

  "A bold plan, my general," Sir Rose noted, with a smile. "As you know, these plains were my home. I should warn you that the river narrows and deepens north of here. It presents a formidable obstacle to movement to our left."

  "Thank you, Sir Knight," Laurana replied. "I, too, knew of this river — and, in fact, it will play a role in my plans."

  If the princess revealed that role on this night, we don't learn of it from Mellison. The girl drifted off to sleep while the warriors discussed tactics into the early hours of predawn. Perhaps even now the elven princess foresaw the Battle of Margaard Ford and was drawing up her plans for that epic confrontation. But alas, we can only speculate!

  My journeys, Your Grace, shall next take me along the foothills of the Dargaard Mountains. I will retrace the steps of Laurana's army as she moved east, south, and then north — always keeping the Highlords guessing.

  Until that next message, I remain,

  Your Devoted Servant, Foryth Teel

  To the Great Astinus, Lorekeeper of Krynn,

  The Army of Solamnia exploded across the plains, shocking the dragonarmies in a series of engagements. These were distinct and isolated clashes, some of them cavalry skirmishes, others dragonfights in the skies, and a few of them pitched battles pitting all of Laurana's troops against equal or greater numbers of the Dark Queen's minions.

  The dragonarmies were forced to fight when they had planned to march. And when they planned to fight they found no opponents and were forced to march. Not until the final confrontation, at Margaard Ford, did the Highlords finally assemble an overwhelming force — and then they fought a battle at the very place Laurana had selected. But forgive me, Your Grace; again I precede myself.

  First to challenge Laurana's advance was the portion of the Green Wing encamped in Throtl. Two dozen dragons and more than a thousand draconians — mostly vicious kapaks — formed the heart of this legion, supported by hundreds of ogres, honorless men, and more than three thousand hobgoblins.

  These troops were ostensibly under the command of the Highlord Toede, though the records of that ignoble hobgoblin make no mention of the battle. Our best reports of the fight come from Gilthanas, and the interviews conducted by the knights with one Kadagh — an ogre who served as captain of one of the Green Wing companies.

  Kadagh awakened to a clear, sunlit morning — unusual weather, here in the shadow of the Dargaard Mountains. Yet this day the eastern peaks and foothills were visible, etched in vivid detail as the ogre emerged from his tent and stretched the kinks out of his knotted muscles. Then, restless, his gaze drifted to the west.

  He first thought that the gods had sprinkled gold dust through the skies. Gold gleamed in the sun, floated gently through the air. But ogres are pragmatic, and Kadagh quickly observed the specks of metal growing steadily larger. His bellow of alarm alerted the camp of the Green Wing to the danger.

  Laurana and her dragons had caugh
t the detachment of the Green Wing as it prepared to march in a delayed response to the Army of Solamnia's rampage across the plain. The green dragons squatted on the ground, saddled but riderless, as gold and silver and brass death came screaming from the skies. The few greens who leaped into the air were mercilessly smashed to ground and destroyed.

  Gilthanas commanded his flyers to be utterly ruthless in this deadly strike against the enemy dragons — and it seems his orders were carefully followed. The dragonlances again proved their worth, although the numerical advantage of the good dragons made the outcome all but inevitable. In moments, the evil serpents had been slain; with tooth and claw and lance.

  Just before the bloody end, however, Kadagh saw one stooped figure scramble into the saddle of a green dragon and urge the beast into the air. Flying low, ducking and weaving between trees and hillocks, the lone dragon and its rider vanished into the heights of the Dargaard Range, leaving the battle far behind. It was Lord Toede, providing an example of courage for his doomed army.

  Laurana's dragons conserved their killing breath weapons for the attack against the draconians, ogres, and hobgoblins of Throtl's legion. Swiftly Kadagh assembled his company — brutish ogres, armored in plate mail and bearing great swords. They were the most formidable footsoldiers of the Green Wing, and records of both sides indicated they fought accordingly.

  The ogres scattered into the ravines and thickets around the camp, fighting in small groups and rushing at any dragons careless enough to get caught on the ground. The gold dragons belched fire into the underbrush, and smoke and flame drifted across the battlefield. Kadagh himself led the charge against a brass dragon that had landed, exhausted, near a clump of brush. He leaped onto the creature's wing and felled the rider, a knight, with one blow of his great sword. Others of his company rushed at the dragon, and when the wyrm reared back, Kadagh plunged his blade into the base of its skull.

  (This tale is more than mere ogre boasting, Your Grace. Gilthanas witnessed the entire incident. Silvara immediately pounced on the ogre, crushing him to earth and felling the rest of his company with a blast of her icy breath. So impressed were the elves with the ogre's valor, however, that they later returned him as a prisoner to Laurana's camp.)