by P. G. Thomas
“How long will it last?” asked Bor
“I don’t know, and Eric’s at least two days away. If they dig their way free of this, I don’t know if I can do anything else. Fen can you please get us some hot bean juice? In thick mugs to keep it warm and some winter coats. I have to stay out here longer to keep it focused on the mountain pass.” As Fen went back into town, Logan looked down at Bor, “I hate wet, especially cold wet.”
“You have been with us too long with,” advised Bor, “Dwarf you are now.”
The ice storm raged all day, playing no favors, as the north pass town and Royal House army received an equal amount of the icy precipitation. While the town residents were heartier than their southern cousins were, the storm was so intense that it forced all to seek shelter. Even the watch, who should have remained, left for warmer surroundings, but Logan, Bor, and Fen stayed out most of the day.
Standing on the wall, Logan continued to rub the blue tattoo as the brutal winds blew around him. When he noticed that Bor and Fen were beginning to shiver, he stopped rubbing his arms, putting them around the dwarves, pulling them closer to him. Sister had protected him against the cold, ensuring his core temperature was steady, which he now shared. Late in the afternoon, in the valley obscured by the falling ice, the black-clad army was no longer seen or heard. When Logan headed back towards the inn, each step he took was hazardous with thick ice. Moving slowly, he tried to buy purchase in the rough and slippery ground as he walked, waiting briefly, before taking his next step. When he raised his foot, his footprint was free of ice, and the exposed ground was no longer treacherous. Bor and Fen followed the path Logan had left across the wall, down the stairs, and up the street to the inn. The desire for warmth, hot bean juice, food, and warm baths had finally forced them inside.
After a warm bath to chase away the cold, which even Bor and Fen enjoyed, (although they would never admit it), they had a hearty hot meal. As the three sat, they invited one of the locals to their table. Like the rest of the people in the town, he was surprised to hear the alarms that morning. They had heard rumors from the south that the plague was a hoax, and that the Royal House troops were actually invading the west. Before that news, some would head through the pass, trading with the Royal House, but when they heard about the attack in the south, they stopped all trade. A few times, Royal Fort troops came to their gate to trade, but the town had voted, prohibiting any bartering. Even though several groups had formed their own militias, nobody was really in charge, and the entire town was surprised to see the Royal House troops in the valley with siege weapons that morning.
The local citizen continued, “As for the freak ice storm, I guess we were just lucky. If the entire Royal House army attacked, there is no way we could defend against so many. This is the first storm of the season, and the mountain pass should remain blocked until spring. Hopefully, we can fortify the wall by that time, and have an actual army in place.” He thanked them for the drink and then left.
“Of the black-clad threats, they did know,” advised Bor, “Prepared they were not. Maybe it was lucky that John sent you here.”
Logan ordered another round of hot bean juice, “Before we leave, we’ll tell them to send a group to Alron. The elves and dwarves are already there, and then all we need is a group from the south port town. All will be able to talk about the threats they have seen, and then they can take over the planning to give Lauren a break.”
“With the Post Office fast horses, all can communicate. Raising an army should now be simple. We now have time,” agreed Fen.
Logan hoped that Fen was right, but everything about the black-clad seemed so wrong. He thought back to the words the Earth Mother had said, ‘Peril too great for the Earth Guard. In your hands, your sister Lauren, her fate you do hold.’ Knowing they had won this battle, he wondered how many more they would have to fight before it was all over.
*******
In the morning, Panry avoided Lauren’s room, being afraid that even a quiet knock at her door would rip her from whatever gentle dreams cradled her. It was noon when he asked Gingaar to take her a cup of tea, hoping the warm liquid would bring her some comfort. When he heard her scream, racing up the stairs, he found her staring at Lauren’s empty bed, and lying on top of it, the tri-wood staff.
Rocketing down the stairs, Erust advised Panry he had not seen the Earth Mother. Letting out numerous alarm whistles, being so loud that even the Alron Earth Guards heard him, everybody rushed to the front room. “Earth Mother is missing. She is not in her room, nor has she left this building. You will search everywhere. Zack, your wolf, please bring it forth and search for black-clad scents. Fodu, I need dwarf to search the town. Ryan, go to the Earth Mothers, check with them and advise. Move!”
As the groups fanned out in all directions, in a short time, having searched the house, they were unable to locate Lauren anywhere. After Careel had advised that they had checked all of the rooms, Babartin confirmed that opening the secret door was impossible.
Zack, wrapped in a blanket, followed the Dawnfalcons down the stairs. “There aren’t any scents of black-clad soldiers or strangers in the house.”
Panry ran his hands through his black hair, “Dawnfalcons, go outside to the back wall and check to make sure none have scaled it.” The Dawnfalcons waited for a brief moment until Zack was the wolf again before heading to the west gate.
An open carriage with Ryan, Nur, Arora, and Fritza, surrounded by their Earth Guards, pulled in front of the house. Panry ran up to the carriage, informing them of what had happened, asking to borrow ten Earth Guards to help search the town.
With the suns setting, they had alerted the entire population to the odd event. Ramy had ordered all carriages and wagons examined, and even the thief guilds had been convinced to participate in the search. As the shadows grew longer, the night oil lamps grew brighter, but still Lauren’s room remained dark: her presence unknown.
Chapter 6
Logan woke while the town still slept. Seeing the first faint rays of a new day dancing on the frosted window, the constant sound of ice being rhythmically chipped away had chiseled into his curiosity. Even as his warm bed tried to hold him in place, the odd ice song called to him. Having slept in his clothes for the extra warmth, when he stood up, he realized how cold the room actually was, promptly finding his boots and winter coat. Going outside, thick ice covered the streets and buildings, proving to be an adequate deterrent to all of the absent citizens in welcoming the new day. However, one would think that interest from an invading army would have not only raised them but their curiosity also. He carefully retraced his steps from the previous night. The melted water he left in his tracks was now frozen, providing only the direction and not the safe footing. As he stepped into each old boot-print, he paused, waiting for the ice to melt. Hearing footsteps behind, he knew that Bor and Fen followed. With the frosted glass painted with odd fractal images, the cold air was refreshing. If not for the strange noises coming from the valley, the morning would have been a source of wonderment. Reaching the top of the wall, he stopped cold in his own tracks, and Bor with Fen beside him shared his confused look.
In the valley, even though the storm had halted the black-clad army, silent sentries stood guard five miles from the wall, being encased in ice now. The storm had converted the siege weapons into odd ice sculptures, which the black-clad now attacked, chipping away at them, trying to free them from their frozen prisons. Tents quickly erected when the storm started, were now thick with ice, and while they blocked the brutal cold, the poles strained under the additional weight. A few even looking like the poles had broken, but the ice so thick, provided the necessary support.
Throwing his hands into the air, Logan grabbed the thick curls at the back of his head, “You have to be kidding me?”
A storm that would have forced any other army to retreat had little effect on the black-clad. Watching for two hours, the opposing soldiers continued to chip the ice from the siege sculptures, m
aking paths in front of them, and finally bringing out teams of horses, they attempted to move the partially freed war machines. However, their efforts were premature because the chipped ice had fallen, freezing at the base, and at the top, they had never removed the frozen water. As horses tried to rock the siege weapons free, the top heavy with ice began to sway. Each time they tried to jerk them free from their glacial bonds, the oscillation of the top would increase. The wooden center free of ice, but filled with moisture, amplified the swaying. Looking only at the struggling horses, the soldiers never realized the danger. Hearing the tremendous snap, looking up, they saw the top crashing down, crushing the struggling horses and those who made them struggle.
Logan, Bor, and Fen were unable to believe the ‘do or die’ mentality of the black-clad army. Although Bor was pleased to see them doing more ‘dying’ than actual ‘doing.’ Even though three siege weapons lay broken in the field, nine still stood entombed in ice, so the cold soldiers moved to the frozen monuments, chipping at the ice once again.
According to nature, after a cold front moves through, a warm front follows. The speed of the two fronts colliding the previous day had left a large gap in the natural weather patterns. With cloudless, blue skies and three hot suns, soon retreating ice could be heard cracking, echoing throughout the valley, as the intense heat changed it into water. The silent sentinels standing guard all morning, five miles from the wall, began to topple over, as their ice coffins melted away, having no interest in supporting their dying cause. As the day went on, the black-clad soldiers continued their fight against the ice, aided by the hot suns, and late in the afternoon, when the ice had all retreated, with the siege weapons freed, the black-clad began to advance.
“Related to dwarf, can they be?” asked Bor.
Fen nodded, “If better trained, dwarf they would be. Motivated they are, but the motivation is wrong.”
Looking at the sky, Logan saw the suns begin their ritualistic routine of lining up, preparing to fall over the horizon one more time. Having advanced to within five miles of the wall, what he never expected to happen, happened. Crews came out, pounded heavy stakes into the now soft ground, attaching thick ropes to the siege weapons, and secured them in place. Then the crews began to pull on a rope, lowering the large arm on the catapult to the ground. When wagons moved beside the trebuchets, they unloaded an unknown cargo into the cups, withdrawing quickly. Powerful elf ears would have heard the commands, ‘ready, aim, fire.’ Legendary elf eyesight would have seen the torch kiss the black contents, which the siege weapons now cradled. However, when the flaming ball of fire jettisoned into the sky, elves unseen in nearby woods all heard the north pass citizens scream in terror, as they ran from the walls back into town. Logan, having never seen anything like this before, was dumbfounded.
Bor advised, “Worry not. They only test them. The distance is great, so we are safe.”
Good to Bor’s word, the balls of fire fell more than three miles short of the wall, and Logan’s eyes went wide when they slammed into the valley floor, erupting into fast-spreading flames. “Safe? For how long Bor? Sons of bitches! If one of those hits this wall, it’ll be gone within an hour. They’ll destroy the town, even before they cross through the burning wall.” Seeing them re-loading the weapons of mass destruction, he quickly pulled back his sleeves, rubbing both feather tattoos at the same time. “Sister, let’s pretend that this is a calculus test, and they need to fail just like I did.” He began to rub both feathers harder, realizing that if they started their attack tonight, the battle would be over before Eric ever arrived. Even though he was unable to see the torches they were using to light the flaming ammunition, Sister’s magic could sense the flames. When a gentle wind kissed the torches at the back of the siege weapons, hot embers floated up from them, finding the thick ropes deep inside the wooden structures, covered thick with residue from the flaming balls of fiery death. Unnoticed, they began to smoke. Once again, they loaded the cups, and before they gave the command to fire, the ropes snapped. The cargo, unlit, flew straight up in the air, crashing back down onto the siege weapons. Running down the poles, it dripped through open cracks, finding the hidden flames. All three exploded into fires so hot that the bindings were unable to maintain the structure, and siege weapons rained down in the black-clad controlled valley.
“Bor, that has to stop them for the night, right?” Logan was uncertain if he could do anything else.
“Wait they should,” began Bor, “Wait I would, but I do not know what the Black-clad will do next.”
“If you think attack this night they will not, attack they will. Right is left, left is right to black-clad. Opposite all is,” advised Fen.
Logan was desperate, “Is there anything we can do to stop them from attacking tonight?”
Bor and Fen went into a quick discussion, their words too fast for Logan to follow, and then both nodded.
“Push back the night to hinder their dark plans,” advised Bor.
“What do you mean?”
Fen pointed to the invading army, “Push wagons into valley. Load then with firewood covered in lamp oil. When archers set it on fire, it will provide light.”
“If they cannot hide, the surprise is lost. Wait they should for a new day,” advised Bor.
Logan was racing down the stairs, looking for somebody in charge. In the center of a large crowd, he found six, and each was proclaiming to be the leader in a heated debate. He stepped into the middle of them, “SHUT UP! Now you’re going to get every wagon you can, lining them up in this street. In half of them, load them with firewood soaked in lamp oil.” Even though he was desperate for a plan to help save them, he had seen the archers on the wall, doubting if any could shoot a flaming arrow to the desired spot in the dark. “Then get rope and soak it in lamp oil also. We’ll use that to light up the wagons.” However, he realized that light alone would be insufficient to stop the advancing army. “In the second half, place less lamp oil soaked firewood, and on top of it, load containers of lamp oil.” Kneeling down, he drew a picture in the dirt, “Finish loading the rest like that, and on top of them place nails, metal utensils, broken glass, even rocks if you have to. When the fire heats up enough, it’ll make the oil lamp containers explode, sending those projectiles into the nearest enemies. Then we’ll push the wagons into the valley, dragging the fuse cords back here, but don’t get them mixed up. Now we don’t have much time so get moving.”
One of the six scowled, “Why should we listen to you, lad?”
Logan smiled, “I have some friends who’re coming to help with your little problem. They should be here tomorrow, but if you don’t want to defend the town tonight, then I’ll leave. I’ll tell them to turn back south because tomorrow the Royal House will be sleeping in your beds. If you do as I say, we should all live. Or would you prefer to continue to argue?”
After the six exchanged looks, they ordered the wagons lined up. Considering the chaos witnessed from the previous days, Logan, Fen, and Bor were surprised how fast the north organized, fueled by the promise of reinforcements. When the pass gates opened, three dozen wagons sprinted out into the valley. Unhitching the horses, they attached fuses to the cargo in the back of the wagons, and the scared would-be soldiers ran back into the town, trailing the fiery birth cords of black-clad deaths behind them. When all had returned, the gates once again closed, and Logan explained the two types of wagons to Bor and Fen.
Archers, or more precisely, anybody who owned a bow, lined the wall that night, and the inns sent over hot bean juice with meals to help fortify them. It was dark in the valley, the moon barely out, when the night vision of Bor called out the first sighting. With the fuse lit, the cord danced and sizzled in the dark, taking its message of illumination to the first wagon, and the added chemicals brought forth a huge blaze in seconds, exposing the black-clad in the dark. Even though the arrows fired fell short, they provided enough surprise that the enemy retreated. Then they set the furthest wagon on the left side of
the valley on fire, scaring more enemies back to their scrimmage line. With flames now in the valley, dwarf eyesight accustomed to dark instantly started calling out new threats. The black-clad were trying to sneak in to cut the fuse cords, but not fast enough to avoid the dwarven eyesight, their retreat too slow to avoid the explosive contents of the wagons. Each time a new blaze illuminated the dark, the archers would let loose their volley of arrows, forcing the exposed enemy to find new cover, and when they were able to get close, the western archers would silence their eastern opponents. All night long, those on the wall played cat and mouse with the soldiers in the valley, exploding wagons to push them back, only to find new attacks trying to sneak through the poorly lit areas.
Less than an hour before dawn, the west had run out of wagons to light the dark. Bor and Fen were still able to see the movements in the dwindling fires, calling out the black-clad advances, but the west archers needed light to sight their targets. The soldiers now so close that Logan could hear the new invaders trip over the old bodies from previous attacks.
Then Bor called out, “Ladders!”
Logan began to rub his red feather tattoo, “Sister, we need one more trick, something, anything. Having the day start early would really help, but I’ll take whatever you have,” and an image came to him. He told the archers beside him to duck behind the wall and not to look up until he had shouted ‘fire,’ advising them to pass the message along to the rest. The archers were unsure what was happening, but so far the young lad and dwarves had protected their town, and they saw no reason to argue with them. One by one, archers took to a knee, covering their eyes. Logan then waited for Bor to signal him when the advance was almost on them. When he did, Logan raised his cupped hands, pointing them to the dark sky. Three small balls of light shot out, jettisoning skyward, that grew in intensity, exploding into massive sunburst flares, having an illumination that exceeded the natural three suns by tenfold.
