by Ben Hale
“What are you going to do if there is a breach in the line?” Talfar asked. “Especially between us and the city.”
He’d expected the question and nodded. “Our first priority is to maintain the line, but if a hole opens where we don’t want it to, we will call in the reserves, and if necessary, the reserves of neighboring battalions. Our last resort will be to fall back to the city and defend its walls. If I order a retreat, do not wait. It means you must follow the retreat plans that you have been trained on. If that order is issued, we will do so in phases, starting with the Lake Road and The Gray.” He pointed at the two ends of the map to emphasize his point.
“What if the city is breached?” Emeka asked.
Braon saw the elven general frown and begin to answer but he cut him off. "If the city is breached, we will survive for less than twenty-four hours. Lucky for us, the city gates are almost impregnable.” Stepping into the map, he expertly enhanced the image until it showed the city, and then maneuvered it downward into the ground. Deiran coughed in shock as the magic went subterranean, revealing the interior caverns of the city. Once the city gates were visible, he focused the enchanted liquid to the maximum.
“As you know, the main city gates are false,” Braon said, pointing at the main gates backed by a fifty foot column of stone. “I believe the enemy will attempt either a battering ram, or try to tear the portal apart. During the last few weeks—” He nodded at Deiran. “—we have further reinforced the gates with as many enchantments as possible. If we are lucky, it should hold throughout the week. If not, they will hammer the doors enough to see rock behind them and realize they have been attacking the wrong place. Then it will only be a matter of time before the real gates are discovered.” He slid his fingers through the map to where the real entrances were located to the right and left of the false gate. “Just in case, we have filled the entrance corridors with stone and debris and the dwarves have added a few other touches that will discourage them from entering.”
For the first time Onix spoke. “What are our weakest points, besides the city gates?”
With nimble fingers, Braon shifted the map and broadened it until they were looking at the Lake Road. “Golic’s battalion faces the greatest weakness we possess. The Lake Road is quite honestly a highway to flank us. Fortunately, it is just fifty feet wide and a few miles long.”
Golic glanced at Braon for tacit permission and said, pointing at the several new walls adorning the road, “As you can see, there are seven special defensive walls that have been built to defend the road. If one is lost, we will retreat to the next, and so forth.”
“What do you mean by special?” Val’Trisian asked.
From next to her, Onix answered, “Our commander asked us to build the walls on the road so that if they are struck, the impact will be absorbed. The stone will not shatter from repeated blows.”
Her eyes widened and she looked at Braon in confusion, “Why would you do that?”
Braon allowed a small smile. “Those defenses are crucial to our survival. If they are lost before day five, then we are all lost. Because of that, it was prudent that they were constructed to take additional punishment and still stand. As with most barricades, the simplest way to destroy them is to smash them, and our enemies will certainly attempt that. In this case, if an enemy tries to crush the stone, their weapon will sink into the wall instead. The material will take quite a pounding before breaking.”
“How was this done?” Talfar asked, his eyes wide.
Braon directed the question to Onix and the dwarf looked at the gnome general, “We made it porous by pulling sediment out of it. We have tested it and it will have the desired effect.” He threw a look in Braon’s direction, and even under the bushy eyebrows he could see the dwarf was pleased.
Braon inclined his head towards the dwarf before continuing, “Because of our two weak points, our entire strategy is based on fortifying the road and the city,” Braon said. "However, I do consider it very likely that they will attack the cliff as a whole, and there will be times they get through. If they do, use your cavalry to sweep them from the cliff and close the breach. Also, don’t forget the dwarf engineers attached to your command center. They have used stone magic to rig many sections of the cliff to explode. When used, they should cause most anything on the cliff to fall, and leave holes to make it more difficult for the fiends to climb. I trust that you will be judicious in their use.”
“So you still believe they will be able to scale the Giant’s Shelf?” Deiran asked with just a trace of disbelief.
“I do,” Braon exclaimed, his confidence in the enemy coloring his tone.
“Our people fight better than you know,” Val’Trisian said. “We should be at the road, not in The Deep behind a wall.”
Bowing to show his respect, Braon said, “I placed your people there for a reason.” He slid the map to The Deep and pointed at the wall. “When the wall comes down, The Deep will become one of the most difficult places to defend, despite the extra measures we have taken to help you. Because it slopes down, and the ground is more rocky, it prevents us from using our cavalry, leaving only infantry. You, however . . .” he raised his eyebrows and waited.
“—have lizards as mounts,” she finished, understanding spreading across her features, “which don’t need even ground to run.” Once again she appeared satisfied and returned to peering at the map with renewed interest.
Before Braon could continue, the doors burst open and Rokei darted in. “Commander,” he said breathlessly, “you’d better see this.”
Braon hesitated; he’d given orders that no one should disturb them, but he trusted Rokei enough to listen. Nodding, he moved towards the doors, but the elf guard shook his head. “All of you should come.”
Braon frowned, and then turned and swept his hand for everyone to follow him. The entire group swept from the room and followed Rokei as he hurried up the stairs. Behind him, several of the generals were speculating about what was going on, but Braon had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Rokei’s expression had been unmistakable, and that caused him to feel a rising fear.
Were they early?
In moments they reached the roof, and Braon stepped into the bright light of the late afternoon. Blinking against the glare, he turned to Rokei to ask, but he pointed south. Braon turned and gazed into the distance, and it didn’t take him long to see what had caused the guard to interrupt the council.
His stomach clenched as he saw a long, dark line along the horizon. Black and foreboding, it was too straight and large to be a cloud. The shadow began at the lake and stretched several miles to the west, and Braon knew instantly what it was.
“What is it?” Talfar asked.
“The last thing the oracle said to me was that Draeken’s army would bring darkness,” Braon said, his voice tight. “I didn’t understand until now.”
“That’s the army?” Emeka gasped.
“Above the army,” Val’Trisian said, covering her eyes to shade the light. “When they attacked us below, we knew it affected the light but it wasn't clear what.”
“How many have we gathered?” Graden asked, his voice concerned.
Deiran answered, his voice still confident, “We passed a million a week ago.” The elf general paused and then added with a derisive snort, “With the gathering we have put together, no army will breach the city or cliff.”
Several heads turned to look at him, their expressions scornful, but Braon didn't turn. The time to fulfill his role was nearly upon him, and the weight of so many lives settled onto him, causing his knees to tremble. In his heart he knew that in two days, thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, were going to die, and the only thing standing between their survival and extinction . . . was his mind.
Turning to the generals, he exclaimed. “Time is short, and there is more to discuss.”
Reluctantly everyone turned to re-enter the house of Runya, each throwing glances at the proximity of their invaders.
Braon looked back once before descending.
Behind him, powerful lightning began to flash, even though there was no storm.
Chapter 33: The Hastening
Gaze slumped against one of the trees of Numenessee and looked south at the shadow that had consumed the sky. It seemed like years since he’d been able to sleep, and the last week had been the worst of it. Since they had left the capitol city of Talinor, they had ridden with the surviving elves westward until they reached a deserted Tallendale, but few had made it this far. Horses became tired, elves became exhausted, and many could not keep up with the relentless pace set by their pursuers. After a few small skirmishes with scouting sipers, just Arzai, Loken, Lexi, and seven others had made it to the north side of the Blue River with Anders and Gaze. All of them dismounted and collapsed in weariness, unable to continue.
The only possible thing left to slow the invasion was to burn Numenessee, something that the elves had balked at. The forest name meant light of hope, and none of the fair race wanted to see it destroyed—particularly since their village would go with it. Anders had argued that it would be leveled by the fiends anyway, and that hope might as well burn to give them time. Unconvinced, the elves held out that the army wouldn’t raze their beloved home. Lexi had finally settled it with a simple bitter command, “We burn it.”
Wearily, Gaze looked south. Just as before, the dark cloud hovered a few miles behind them, not stormy or rainy, just . . . blackness. Despite the proximity and the need to hurry to Azertorn, all the elves had fallen asleep, and after two minutes the only ones with their eyes open were Gaze and Anders.
“How much time do you think we have?” Anders asked through cracked lips.
Gaze threw a look at the dark line in the sky, and once again had the unspeakable idea that the darkness was chasing the light. “Twenty minutes before the skorpians are in range. Maybe thirty before they reach the river.”
“At least you had a chance to meet a girl,” Anders said.
Gaze grinned in spite of himself. Lexi and he had gotten close over the last week, and she had even smiled at him a few times. He liked to think that she felt the same for him as he felt for her.
“If we live, maybe I can buy her a mug of ale,” Gaze said.
“If we live, you should buy her more than a mug, you should buy her a barrel. How many times has she saved us? Three? Four? I’ve lost track.”
“Hey, I’ve saved her too, you know,” Gaze said in defense. “I’d say it’s about even.”
“Honestly though, I can’t believe that elves survived this last week. I have never seen one endure so much,” Anders said, his voice thoughtful.
Gaze snorted and glanced at the unconscious elves. “They lost how many coming out of the city? Twenty?”
“A little more,” Anders said, “And more would have made it here if we hadn’t run into those blasted dogs. I wonder how the Riverguard trains to build up such endurance.”
“If we live, I will ask her,” Gaze said.
Anders grimaced, “If we live—a lot of things.”
Gaze sighed and watched the darkness approach. “We’d better go,” he said tonelessly. With a grunt of effort he rose to his feet and went to rouse the elves. After several tries he began to get desperate. “They aren’t waking up!” he said, glancing at the now visible front line of the army.
Anders, who was trying to wake Loken, growled, “Grab some water from the river.”
Gaze rushed to the river and filled a flask, which succeeded in waking Lexi as well as Arzai. With his heart beating faster, he raced to the river to refill the flask, but as he sunk it into the cool, clear water, a shape caught his eye. Deep in the river his eyes were drawn to the slime encrusted barricades at the bottom. “The Danre,” he breathed, remembering that the river was once fast and treacherous, until the earth magic guild had slowed it to allow commerce to sail upriver from the ocean. The story about its creation was legendary—but right now all he could think about was the possibility of destroying it. Hoping with all his might, his mind reached down to see if the difference in energy existed.
Then he leapt to his feet and darted back to Anders still trying to revive an unconscious elf. “I think I can use my magic to destroy the blocks!” he said, but Anders just flashed him an annoyed look. “The Danre!” he said, grabbing the prince’s arm, forcing him to meet his gaze.
It took a second for the prince to understand, but when it dawned on him his eyes went wide. “How,” he demanded, and Gaze saw Lexi appear at his side to hear the answer as well.
A black shafted spear grew out of the dirt next to him, cutting off his answer. “Get the Riverguard out of here!” Gaze yelled, throwing an elf onto a horse and strapping him down. In moments Lexi, Loken, and Anders rushed to place the other still forms on their steeds. Then all four of them mounted, but Gaze turned west, “I have to destroy the Danre!” he yelled as more spears sank into the riverbank.
Lexi appeared about to protest, but a glance at her unconscious command and she growled, “You had better make it to the city Gaze, or I swear by Ero’s staff I will hunt you down and kill you!”
Before he could respond she kicked her horse into a gallop and the other trained horses leapt to follow. As they faded from sight Anders mounted. “Lead the way my friend.”
Gaze considered arguing, but one look at his friend's expression told him he would be wasting his breath. Gritting his teeth against weeks of exhaustion, pain, and loss, he focused his magic on the river. With all his might he gathered every drop of energy he could find, but held it fast until it threatened to engulf him. Just before he thought he would explode, he released the most powerful bolt of lightning he’d ever called.
Its impact with the water was like nothing he had ever seen as it sent a geyser of white, exploding with a thunderclap that rattled the teeth in his skull. Driving deep until it hit the first barricades, it arced through them. The muted explosion sent more water blasting outward. Chunks of slimy stone rained down, signaling a breach in the Danre.
But Gaze wasn’t finished.
Wheeling his horse west with Anders at his heels, he plunged into the forest, praying that his elven horse would find a route in its homeland. Almost blinded by the energy swirling in the ground and air, he launched a cascade of streaking white energy that penetrated the water as it sought more of the Danre. Thunder and lightning pierced the sky as Gaze rode west, drawing on reserves of strength he did not know he possessed, and blasting the Danre with supreme power.
In their wake the river began to pick up speed. Unleashed after centuries of confinement, it became a raging torrent as the fiend army reached its southern bank. Many fiends plunged into the water, but were carried away by the churning white cauldron of froth.
With his mind filled with heavenly light, the giant trees of the forest streaked past in a blur of green. Two miles, five miles, then ten, they galloped through the forest as Gaze punished the bottom of the river with an onslaught of celestial might—but the drain was starting to take a toll.
Gaze felt his heart racing, his breathing become shallow, and his strength began to ebb. His vision dimmed but he forced through hazy sight to continue. His soul felt like it was about to shatter, but he didn’t stop. In response to his failing strength, the lightning lost its precision, blasting the ground on both sides of the river. Fiends were scorched and torn asunder on the southern bank . . . and the forest of Numenessee began to burn on the northern.
Finally they reached the bridge, where two krakas followed by countless quare had begun to cross. In a primal roar of hate and rage, Gaze struck the bridge, charging the stones, and then he threw a bolt so powerful that it carved through the arch to the river below. Great stones hurtled hundreds of feet in every direction, and the ensuing thunderclap knocked the weakened Gaze tumbling from his horse. He felt a snap in his arm as he struck the ground, and cried out in agony as he bounced to a stop on the road to Azertorn.
With blurred vision he looked at the
river and saw that finally, gloriously, the river was racing towards the ocean. Enough of the Danre had been broken that the river itself became a battering ram of furious water, plowing through every remaining blockade as if it were kindling. White capped water frothed in anger as it rushed to reach the sea it so longed to embrace.
Bruised, broken, and nearly unconscious, Gaze rested his head against the ground, and smiled. When Anders appeared in his vision a few moments later, he couldn't hear what he said over the roar of the river, the burning forest, and the echoing thunder. His long-time friend yelled at him and pointed at the quivering body of the horse that had gone down when he’d fallen. Two spears pinned it to the earth and Gaze knew that it was over. With only one horse left there was no way the two of them could get to Azertorn ahead of the blazing forest.
Gaze sighed and closed his eyes, and saw the numerous faces of those who had died in the conflict. He thought of the king first, and how he'd been like a father to him. Lexi's elves flashed across his mind next, and he felt a stab of regret that he wouldn't get the chance to know her better. Last he thought of the hundreds of soldiers that had perished at the hands of the fiend army. Their heroism and honor brought tears to his eyes, and he hoped his sacrifice could measure up to theirs.
Sensing the end, he fought to open his eyes so he could say goodbye to his friend, but before he could find the words Anders hauled him to his feet. Through a dull fog he felt the prince shove him onto the remaining steed.
"I'm sorry brother, but the horse can't carry two," Anders said. "Take care of Lexi and Graden for me."
Then he felt the prince fumble with his hand and slide a ring onto a finger. A slap broke his muddled thoughts when Anders hit the horse's rump and it began to carry him towards Azertorn. Gaze bellowed as he watched the prince raise a hand in farewell. Then he saw Anders turn and pull long spears out of the ground. With deadly accuracy, he launched them across the destroyed bridge.
