That was a question with disturbing implications, the thane quickly realized. "I need to get word to the waterfront."
"Let's go," Axel declared.
As they approached the lift, Baker was startled to see the young scribe from his quarters. The Hylar's right arm ended in a bandaged stump, but nevertheless he approached the thane deferentially. Baker was aghast at the wound. It was a horror that struck home, even in the midst of this nightmare.
"My lord, I am glad you are safe."
"With thanks to you. But what happened? Your hand…" He was suddenly aware that he didn't even know who the young dwarf's name. "Please, tell me your name!"
"It's Sandhour, my lord. They call me Squinter Sandhour."
"Well Squinter Sandhour, I owe you my life."
"It was an honor to defend you, my lord. But all these Klar! What does it mean?"
"I have a feeling it means trouble, my good son. Terrible trouble. But come with me. Let's get you down to the healer."
By the time the lift clunked downward, the sounds of fighting had faded away and Level Twenty-eight was securely in the hands of the Hylar once again. Yet all the rest of Hybardin seemed alive with unusual noise. The echoes of panic and terror resonated deep into Baker Whitegranite's heart.
Chapter Twelve
War on the Waterfront
Belicia looked out over the water, unable to ignore a rising feeling of disquiet. For one thing, the chain boats from both Daerforge and Theibardin were long overdue. Both the pulley and the gear systems had become disabled within a few hours of each other, each crippled by an unknown and therefore undiagnosable problem. Breakdowns in the chain ferry system were routine enough, but she didn't like this unusual coincidence. And then there had been the news from Level Twenty-eight. So far, they were nothing more than a series of wild rumors, but she was steadily growing more concerned.
Belicia climbed the wide stairway that led directly from the dockside to the great trading plaza on the second level of Hybardin. At the center of this wide space was the lowest terminal for Hybardin's main transport, the Great Lift which led from the market plaza all the way up to Level Twenty-eight. The next higher lift station, at Level Three, was more than a hundred feet above and could also be reached from the waterfront by a long climb up several stairways or by one of the smaller lifts.
The stairs connecting the plaza to the docks were oriented to the four points of the compass and each was flanked by a pair of ramparts guarded by a low wall. Belicia took the time to walk around the perimeter of one such bulwark, observing that her archers would have a clear field of fire over any attacker. Because of the height and the crenellated defensive wall, the youngsters who made up the bulk of her missile troops would be well protected from direct contact with the attackers. As long as the shield wall held across the width of the stairs, the Hylar up above would be able to create a deadly distraction to the enemy trapped on the approach.
After a great deal of thought, she had decided to divide her shield company into five sections and place one group at each of the four stairways. The fifth group would include many of her best warriors and would form a reserve to garrison the trading plaza and also be ready to rush to the defense of any threatened quadrant. She had broken her archers into four bands, each with standing orders to garrison the ramparts of the stairways in the event of an attack. From here they would be able to direct a harassing fire onto boats approaching the docks, and Belicia was convinced that she could make an enemy's efforts to land prove very costly indeed. Furthermore, she had stockpiled a huge amount of arrows at each archery station.
She took a few moments to inspect the final cornerstone of her defense. One of the heavy ballistae rested on a swivel mount just above the stairway rampart. A pair of these overlooked each set of stairs, and she nodded in greeting to the three grizzled veterans who operated this particular weapon. The ballista was like a giant crossbow, powered by a massive spring and shooting a steel-headed missile whose shaft was made from the trunk of a medium-sized tree. Though even a veteran crew could shoot only one shaft every few minutes, each great arrow weighed hundreds of pounds and was quite capable of puncturing or capsizing all but the largest of lake boats.
But if she made her stand at the stairs, that meant abandoning the waterfront in the face of the first wave of attacks. The announcement of that decision had stirred up a hornet's nest. Now she turned to await the approach of a delegation of merchants and ship-owners, all of whom had spent most of the last two days demanding that Belicia's defensive arrangements be overruled.
"My good captain," declared Hoist Backwrench, a shipbuilder who did a significant amount of business along the Hybardin docks, "You must reconsider your plan! We can't simply hand over the dockyards to our enemies, no matter how numerous their swords!"
"My plan is the only chance that gives an undersized force a fighting chance against a more numerous foe. Why can't you understand that?"
"We understand perfectly!" retorted Sootmaker Darkfern, a prominent importer of coal. "You're willing to throw us to the dragons so you can keep your own troops alive!"
Belicia flushed, infuriated by the words. Before she could snap out a reply that would have done nothing to soothe the merchants' fears, she bit her tongue and forced herself to take a deep breath. "You've heard the news from above?" she asked, knowing the whole city had been abuzz with news of the Klar attack.
"A few lunatics with more ale than sense, I'll wager," Hoist said. "No doubt we'll find out that most of the stories are nothing but exaggerations."
"Or it could be the start of an attack that's bigger than anything we've ever considered," Belicia said. Ever since she heard about the raid against the Level Twenty-eight, she had grown increasingly apprehensive about the vulnerability of the Life-Tree. "We have suspicious reports from three clans and clear signs of trouble afoot."
"Bah! There could be a thousand reasons why the boats have stopped!" insisted Hoist Backwrench.
"And one of them is that the thanes of the Theiwar and Daergar wanted to cut us off from any chance of warning. When you've heard that the Klar are already making mischief, didn't you think we would have to take this seriously?"
Before the argument could proceed any further, a pair of gray-bearded dwarves and their escort of palace guards approached the party. Despite her firm stance and utter self-assurance, Belicia was relieved to recognize her father and the thane.
"Ah, there you are," said Axel Slateshoulders, giving his daughter a wide grin. "Why don't you explain to these gentlemen what you told the thane yesterday? I'm sure they'll see that your plan makes sense."
"What makes sense is to hold the whole dock!" insisted Hoist as he crossed his arms over his broad chest.
"I'm surprised at you, Hoist," said Baker Whitegranite. "You know better than that."
The acting thane blinked at the dozen or so merchants who formed a glowering ring around them. His glasses were smudged, and Belicia wondered if he was having a little difficulty seeing.
"This is not about cowardice," the thane continued, "or throwing anyone to the dragons. It's about holding and protecting Hybardin if the worse comes to worst."
"And what's the news from above?" demanded a Hylar Belicia didn't recognize. "There are tales of Klar run wild!"
"I'm afraid that's true," Baker replied, turning his attention to Belicia. "Several bands of armed Klar burst into manors on the highest level. The Ferrust family was killed to the last dwarf and several others took casualties before their house guards were able to prevail."
"Then the attack was more than just an isolated raid?"
"Of course it was," Axel answered. "Perhaps a hundred or more different routes into Hybardin were used, and the attacks were as carefully timed as you could expect from the Klar."
"What about the King's Wall?" Belicia asked.
"We held at all four gates," replied Axel. "The fact is, they made a good barrier to hold the bastards away from the lift station."
"And your father had them cleaned out in a few hours," Baker added.
"Did you get my message about the halting of the chain boats?"
"Yes," Baker said. "That's what brought us down here." Now Belicia spoke decisively. "Then I believe we have to treat the situation as though we could be attacked here at any time."
"I agree," Baker said firmly. He addressed his young captain again. "What else do you need to make ready for an attack?"
"We need to close and block the short lifts that lead from the docks up to the Second Level."
"You might as well close the markets!" wailed Fortus Silkseller, Hybardin's most esteemed fabric dealer.
"We can't use the stairs for cargo!" Hoist Backwrench added insistently.
"I have a feeling that the dark dwarves are going to be closing the markets for you," Belicia replied, "but there must be two score lifts connecting these two levels. We must block them all. Otherwise, even though we might hold these stairways, it will just be a matter of minutes before they've got us outflanked."
"And on the stairs you have four relatively narrow routes to hold," Axel interjected, speaking sternly. "You know she's right."
Baker quickly ruled in Belicia's favor, and Axel took on the role of insuring that the orders were followed. Each of the merchants was asked to provide materials-bales, barrels, crates, and coal-that would be used to fill the elevator shafts.
Though the merchants were still grumbling, Belicia got their attention before they clumped off to do as they had been told. "We all hope I'm wrong about this. All of us hope that nothing will happen. If so, in a few days the chain ferries will be running again and we can all be back to our regular tasks. But please listen to me. If the worst happens and we're attacked, Hybardin needs the help of all of you."
"What do you want of us?" growled Hoist Backwrench, who despite his surly expression seemed to be listening to her.
"I need you and all your workers. Take up whatever arms you have and join us atop these four stairways. There are places on the ramparts where those who are unable to wield a sword can join my archers. Or they can throw down oil, torches, even blocks of steel could do some damage. And the rest of you can help us make a stand that will make all of our descendants proud."
"Aye. We'll do that," Hoist grunted. "For if yer right, and if we fail, then we might not have any children left to hear the tale."
The Daergar came first, their boats appearing in a vast wave at the very fringe of Hybardin's ring of lights. Immediately the shouts of alarm came down from Levels Three and Four where people could see farther out over the water.
The Hylar on the waterfront made a well-ordered retreat to the four stairways. Only Belicia and the few of her troops skilled with the heavy crossbow waited, concealed among the debris near the edge of the water. The Hylar captain noted with surprise that Hoist Backwrench bore one of the shiny steel weapons and had a quiver of lethal looking darts slung on his back.
"Glad to see you," she said quietly, as the two of them crouched beside a crate that had just been emptied of its cargo of steel.
"Looks like you were right," the shipper said grimly, squinting at the line of hulls that edged forward out of the darkness of the Urkhan Sea. "Can't say I'm glad, but I'd like to think I'm big enough to admit when I've been a fool."
Belicia smiled grimly. "Not a fool. And I'm grateful for your crossbow."
"You've got my strong right arm, too," Hoist said, closing his fist around the hilt of a broad-bladed shortsword. "Don't fergit, this is my dock those bastards are trying to take away from us!"
She looked closely and was surprised to see tears in the corner of the burly Hylar's eyes.
The white wakes curling ahead of the Daergar prows were now visible. These were long-hulled lake boats, each of them with a sharp prow, and propelled by a dozen or more oars. Beyond the leering figureheads Belicia could make out fully armored dark dwarves, tightly packed in the hulls and staring grimly toward the land.
A rank of archers hid behind the rampart above and behind Belicia. The veteran crews at the ballistae were waiting for her sign. She took out her flint and used her dagger to scrape a spark into the small, oil-soaked torch she had prepared for this moment. Instantly the wick flared into yellow flame, a bright flash shining all across the waterfront. In less than a second she heard the loud crack and thrum of the two nearest ballistae as they cast their missiles.
The first arrow clanged off the prow of a Daergar boat, knocking the vessel sideways so that it collided with a neighboring craft in a tangle of curses and splintering oars. For a moment the advance was delayed by confusion, but Belicia grimaced when she saw the two prows quickly swing shoreward again. The great shaft from the second ballista had flown over the bow of a long, narrow-hulled craft, directly into the tightly packed crew. A chorus of screams vanished under the cheer that rose from the shore as that boat veered to the side and slowed to a halt, oars akimbo.
By the time the great weapons were loaded again, at least a hundred assault boats were visible, pulling up to the docks and to the broken rock of the shore. Two more ballista missiles rocketed out and downward at a steep angle. Each pierced the hull of a boat, sinking the metal-hulled vessels immediately. Shrieking Daergar splashed and floundered in the black water.
Belicia knew these dwarves were doomed. Although the boat sank but a stone's throw from shore, not one of the dwarves would be able to swim that distance. The dark dwarves hated the water every bit as much as the Hylar and their heavy armor drug them thrashing and burbling to the bottom of the sea. This time there was no cheering. Even for an enemy, death by drowning was a fate as cruel as any known to Thorbardin's dwarvenkind.
More boats swept closer, and now Belicia stood up. "Shoot!" she cried. "Give them a full volley!"
Arrows and darts hissed through the air, a deadly barrage that found targets in many of the crowded hulls. But the missiles couldn't stop the relentless onslaught, and in moments dozens of the longboats were pulling alongside the stone fingers of Hybardin's docks. Reloading once, Belicia took another shot, dropping the captain of one of the lead boats. Despite the barrage of arrows, the Daergar were swarming ashore in great numbers.
"Fall back!" she shouted, the command echoing among the dwarf archers still on the docks of Level One.
More arrows, light but lethal missiles which arced outward and down from the ramparts above, began to shower the gathering phalanxes of invaders. Belicia and her advance guard fell back in orderly fashion. The line of the shield wall at the base of the stairs parted to allow their captain through.
"You were right about this, too," Hoist said, indicating the Daergar that were swarming across the dock. "We'd have been surrounded before half of us could have made it back to the stairs."
She nodded curtly. It had been obvious to her all along, but she was glad that he had finally seen the truth.
"Are you ready here, Farran?" she asked the young dwarf responsible for commanding this detachment.
"Aye, captain," replied the warrior. Just a short time earlier, Farran had been learning the rudiments of a shield wall while Belicia had banged his shins with a stout staff. "Bring 'em on!"
"That's the spirit!" She clapped him on the shoulder and offered a silent prayer to Reorx. She wanted to stay here on the front line, but with her company dispersed into five detachments she had to maintain her own freedom so that she could move around and observe.
"Reckon I'll stay here, too," Hoist said, with a casual salute to the female captain. She saw that he had picked up a shield from somewhere. It relieved her somewhat to have the capable old Hylar standing in the shield wall. "At least I can keep an eye on my shipyard," he added with a growl, as the dark dwarves began to spread across the waterfront.
The Daergar wore black armor adorned with spikes, blades, and images of bestial faces. Full helmets protected their heads, each with faceplate down and locked. The dark dwarves swarmed across the dockyard by the hundreds, scattering among the barrels
and bales of what had once been a prosperous waterfront. Now they howled in outrage as they saw that virtually everything of value had been cleared away. From their positions on the stairways and ramparts the Hylar hooted jeers and derision, and a small group of infuriated Daergar rushed impetuously at the shield wall which blocked their passage up the stairs.
"Steady there, wait!" roared Farran, in the voice of a natural sergeant. The Hylar line had formed across the sixth stair so that the enemy would have to climb to reach them. The rank was three dwarves thick and now Belicia could only hope that it would hold. It had to hold.
The first of the dark dwarves scrambled up the steps, many of the attackers stumbling before they even reached their enemy. The others were quickly cut down, their bodies left to bleed on the stairs and create an additional obstacle for the much larger number following.
On the docks, the bulk of the Daergar were now forming into companies. Still harassed by the arrows showering them, they cursed and howled at the defenders, promising slow deaths and worse when they had won the fight. Bristling with axe and spear and sword, the teeming mass charged the stairway, scrambling over the corpses of their comrades. Scores of fanatical dark dwarves smashed with full force into the desperate Hylar's thin line.
"You archers, shoot double time," bellowed Belicia. "Let them have it!"
The young dwarves along the parapet showered their missiles down from the ramparts. Nearly every arrow found a target in the tight-packed army of dark dwarves, though many of the well-armored attackers were protected from serious wounds by their shoulder plates and steel helms. Still, the darts caused many wounds and added to the general confusion of the infuriated, battle-crazed Daergar.
No matter how many of the enemy rushed forward, only a small number of them could reach the shield wall of Hylar. The clash of sword and shield rang across the waterfront as the charging mob funneled onto the stairway and met the firmly standing line. Anchored by the rear ranks of their comrades and benefitting from holding the higher position, the Hylar shield wall did not waver from the shock of the first clash. From her position still higher above, Belicia saw that Hoist had taken on the role of anchoring the right end of the line while Farran displayed the poise and confidence of a veteran as he shouted encouragement to his troops.
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