Archport was also at that time one of the most important ports for the Alphatian navy, where many of the empire's sleek galleys and sturdy troop ships were kept and maintained. By virtue of its location, Archport was as important to Alphatia's commercial interest as it was to the island continent's appetite for conquest. Of course, the previous year's ill-advised war with the dragons had put a considerable dent in the size of the imperial navy, a fact that could be clearly seen by the unusual lack of military vessels to be found in port.
Most foreigners either did not know or else tended to forget that Alphatia was not a single nation, but a collection of eighteen semiautonomous kingdoms bound together by their shared greed and insatiable drive for conquest. Alphatia was a nation of sorcerers, a land where spellcasters were the aristocracy and common folk possessed few rights or little wealth. The land had first been settled by the ancient enemies of the Flaem, and the true Alphatians still dominated the continent. But many elves and dwarves had settled there as well in the centuries that had followed, and they now shared many of the customs and the ambitions of the original people of Alphatia.
The attack came in the deepest part of the night, and it came completely without warning. Ships standing at the piers or at anchor suddenly burst into flames, some catching fire so quickly and violently that they literally exploded. Indeed, since there was no immediate sign of any enemy, the first assumption of many was that a perfectly normal if disastrous fire was sweeping over the piers, spread by bits of burning canvas carried on the brisk sea breeze. But the fires seemed too selective, striking mostly at the swift war galleys and other naval vessels in the harbor, as well as the forts that stood guard over the port.
Defenders hurried to their stations, but there still was no enemy to be seen. No foreign warships stood out at sea, nor were any invading warriors in the streets of the city. The attack itself was swift and over in a matter of minutes. Only afterward did a few of the defenders speak of seeing vast, dark shapes passing below the stars in the moonless night sky, creatures with broad, dark wings, long necks, and tails.
Two other major ports in Alphatia were attacked that same night in similar fashion. The attack in each case was directed at, but not limited to, the ships and facilities of the imperial navy. And in every case, people spoke of seeing the dark shapes passing in the night. Of course, there was little question in anyone's mind that it was the dragons who were behind the attack. The dragons had been provoked into war with the empire the previous year; the Alphatians had treacherously broken their own truce when they thought the dragons were preoccupied with the Dragonlord in the west. But the dragons had kept to themselves since they had destroyed the last invasion force at sea, and there had been little reason to believe that they would retaliate further.
Indeed, the first thing that officials within the empire did following the attack was to make certain that their own people had not provoked the dragons yet again. Alphatians tended to be tenacious in their desire for conquest, even in the face of certain disaster. One problem with an empire of such great size as Alphatia was that one branch of the government or the military often did not know what the other parts might be doing.
Unfortunately, the dragons themselves remained very much an unknown factor. In the past, they had attacked only in just response to provocation, so that the Alphatians were inclined to wonder if they themselves were at fault. As a part of their first treaty with the Alphatians, the dragons had demanded the right to search all of Alphatia for some artifact of magic that had been taken from them. Alphatian spies reported that the dragons had made similar demands upon the Flaem in the distant west. Whatever it was the dragons wanted, they seemed to be returning for a second look. But whatever the cause of the attacks, whether in response to some threat, in retaliation for past transgressions, or merely for sport, all the Alphatians could do was to
prepare themselves as best they could and wait.
* * * * *
On that same night, a cold, restless wind whipped through the narrow Sardal Pass in the mountains of southern Rock-home, the kingdom of the dwarves. The pennants above Kar-rak Castle snapped sharply in the breeze, the only sound to be heard in the night. But the great fortress of Karrak was not entirely asleep, for this was one of the three great fortresses guarding the only passes into Rockhome. Sardal Pass was the most direct way into the desert lands of the Ylaruam and Thy-atis beyond. Sentries patrolled the walkways along the pass and manned the parapets of the massive form of the castle itself. The dwarves guarded their borders as if they were always expecting an attack, and they prided themselves upon the fact that they were almost never taken by surprise.
That night, however, even the dwarves were taken by surprise.
A great blast of intense flames seemed to explode from one of the tall, slender central towers of the castle. The blast hurled the tiles of the cone-shaped roof of the tower in all directions, great slabs of slate that were intended to deflect flaming arrows and even common dragonfire. The timbers and wood floors within the tower began to burn furiously, and even some of the stones of the outer wall began to crack and loosen from the intense heat. The sentries hardly needed to ring the watch bells to sound the alarm; the blast had shaken the castle to its core. The ranks of dwarvish warriors leapt from their beds, pausing only long enough to grab their armor and weapons as they hurried to the defense of the castle.
The top of the second tower of the main portion of the castle also exploded in flame. Then a couple of the lesser towers along the outer wall of the pass were all but shattered in sudden bursts of fire. The massive tower above the circular gate fort proved more solid than the others, withstanding three blasts before it began to burn like a great torch in the night. Only moments after the first attack, the dwarves began to rush out onto the upper walls, ready for battle. But there was no enemy to be seen; indeed, the assault upon Karrak Castle seemed to be over.
There was, of course, only one enemy who could have come and gone again so quickly in the night. The sentries who had witnessed the attack pointed to the sky and spoke of great winged shapes that had moved quickly across the stars of the moonless sky as they had hurtled along the twisting length of the pass.
The sudden and seemingly unprovoked attack was a dire mystery to Daric, son of Kuric, the young commander of the garrison at Karrak Castle. There was little he could do at first except to have the fires brought under control and repairs begun on the damaged towers. The garrison remained at full battle alert; catapults and large crossbows, at least all such weapons that were on hand, were brought out onto the walls and made ready. But Daric had to doubt that a second attack would come any time soon. This had obviously not been an attempt to capture or destroy the castle. The damage to the defenses of the castle had been minimal, and there had been no loss of life. He was inclined to believe that this had been a warning, although he did not understand the intended message.
Although dwarves considered dragons to be their special enemies, born of a certainty that every dragon in the world coveted the deep caverns and vast treasures of the dwarves, actual conflict between them was rare. Although renegades often attacked the caravans coming in and out of Rockhome, even the great renegade king Kardyer had never dared to attempt an attack on one of the underground cities of the dwarves. All raids had come to an end in the months since the Dragonlord had slain Kardyer and his cohorts. Also, the flames that had destroyed the castle's towers had been much more intense than was usual for dragonfire. Even Dark knew that much about dragons.
Only an army of dragons would dare to attack a major stronghold of the dwarves, and only the greatest of the world's dragons would command magical flames of such intensity. Dark was reminded of the time just before the coming of the Dragonlord, when Rockhome had been all but under siege from the armies of rogue dragons patrolling the northlands. Now that there was no longer a Dragonlord to maintain the peace, the dragons might be harboring new plans of conquest, encouraged by their easy defeat of Alphatia.
As morning approached, Daric had to make his decisions quickly, and he felt trapped between two duties of great importance. If the attack had been only a prelude to an invasion, he needed to do what he could to hold Karrak Castle against the dragons, as impossible as that seemed. And yet he also needed to carry his warning to Dengar immediately, so that preparations to defend all of Rockhome could begin. He decided that he was needed more in Dengar; if he left at once, he could be back by nightfall of the following day, and his lieutenant could command the castle and garrison as well as he could during that time.
Because speed was important, he elected to ride one of the few horses kept by the dwarves for delivering urgent messages. That gave him several hours during the ride to Dengar to reflect upon this new development, and for once he was glad to have Korinn Bear Slayer and the Syrklist dwarves leading
Rockhome at such a time. Daric was himself of the warrior Torkrest Clan, but he was still fairly young for a dwarf and had in the past been a companion, even a friend, to Dorinn, the elder son of King Daroban and at that time the clear heir to the throne. When Dorinn had been wounded in battle against the ores in the West, Daric had helped to get him home again. Since that time, Daric had also come to respect and trust the younger son of Daroban, Korinn, now that he was something of a hero and the likely heir.
As he made the final climb toward the gate of upper Den-gar, he saw that his warning of an attack by dragons was a little late. Several of the small watchtowers along the massive wall had been blasted, and some had been shattered altogether. Crews were already at work repairing the damage, but the greatest attention was being given to preparing the city for a second and possibly far more serious attack. Daric had to wonder just how many cities and fortresses in Rockhome had been hit the previous night.
Leaving his horse at the stables of the garrison near the inner gate, he hurried down to the lower city and presented himself at the palace. Under the circumstances, he was not surprised to find that the king's throne room was packed with more than a hundred dwarves, representatives of every clan and many leaders of the military, all talking together furiously in small groups. His old friend Dorinn saw him as soon as he entered and hurried to greet him, although with no joy for the anticipated news that Daric carried.
"Karrak as well?" Dorinn asked, and sighed heavily. "You must speak with my father at once."
Dorinn lead the way through the crowd, still walking with an awkward limp from the injuries he had suffered in battle years before, although he stood somewhat straighter and looked less thin and wasted than he had. He hurried not to the throne but to a quiet corner, where his brother Korinn and King Daroban were talking quietly with a tall young man in the uniform of a Thyatian officer. For a moment, Daric noticed only that the king looked older and more frail than ever, noticeably older than when he had last visited Dengar the previous autumn. Although Daric was of a rival clan, he found himself hoping that the king would retain his strength long enough for Korinn to come of age and assume the throne uncontested. Rockhome could hardly survive war with the dragons if the dwarves were fighting among themselves for the crown.
Daroban turned to him. "We had feared that Karrak Castle had been hit as well."
"The damage was only superficial," Daric said. "No worse than what I saw in the city above. But I had no way of knowing that the dragons had struck anywhere else, so I thought it best to bear the warning as quickly as I could."
"It is well that you did," the king said, then glanced up at the Thyatian. "General Daric, this is Captain Darius Glantri of Thyatis. He arrived by griffon this morning, on his way to the Flaemish realm to confer with Solveig White-Gold. He has kindly paused on his journey so that the two griffon riders in his company might survey Rockhome's damage for us."
Darius bowed politely. "This matter affects us all, I fear. The shipyards of the Thyatian fleet were attacked as well, and the damage was rather more severe. The dragons were very busy indeed last night. I wonder who else they may have attacked."
"Who indeed?" Daric asked. "My impression was that we've been given a warning, considering how little damage was actually done."
"It probably was only a warning," Darius agreed. "It's just that the warning we received in Thyatis was much sterner than the one they saved for the dwarves. But that defies explanation. If it was a warning of their intent to attack us in greater force, then why would they warn us? And if it was retribution, then what have we done to deserve it?"
"According to all our legends, dragons have their own ways, often mysterious to us," King Daroban said. "When the rogue dragons attacked just before the coming of the Dragonlord, their attacks seemed to be more a matter of harassment, as if they felt so secure in their own strength that they sought to slay their enemies by slow torment. Now that there is no longer a Dragonlord to stop them, perhaps they once more feel strong and secure. If this is a matter of retaliation, then could it be for the humiliation the dragons suffered when the Dragonlord humbled them in our defense?"
"As far as I know, there still is a Dragonlord," Korinn said. "The dragons couldn't take that away from him. All they did was incite our own hatred and mistrust, causing us to send him away from us."
"You make it sound as if the fault were our own," Daric commented, not so much in anger but in honest confusion. "Didn't the Dragonlord leave us to go back with his own kind, once he learned that he was a dragon?"
"But he is still the Dragonlord," Korinn insisted. "Remember, I was there from the first. I know that his duty was to protect all of us, even the dragons themselves, from war. And he won't let them go to war now, I'm certain of that. The dragons might have decided that he cannot or will not oppose them, but I suspect that they have a surprise coming to them."
"I agree," Darius Glantri said. "I knew the Dragonlord well, and I've never lost my faith in him. Emperor Cornelius agrees with me on that score. I was on my way to confer with Solveig White-Gold, to see if she knows how to find the Dragonlord and call him back to defend us. If King Daroban agrees, I think that Korinn Bear Slayer should go with me."
Daroban remained hesitant. "I will believe that the Dragonlord is still our defender when he has actually returned to defend us and the dragons have been sent back into the north-lands. In all the history of our race, the dragons have been the demons of our waking nightmares, and I will never trust them. I cannot easily place my faith in the Dragonlord."
"Do we really have any choice?" Korinn asked. "If the dragons want to make war upon us, there's not much we can do about it. They're too strong, too fast, and too powerful in their magic. In all the history of our race, have we known any force that could stand against them except the Dragonlord?"
Dorinn frowned. "Father, Korinn speaks the truth. The Dragonlord defended us for five years, and we had no complaint. If the Dragonlord is still willing to defend us, then it is best for us that we should let him. That does not mean that we should not prepare our own defenses, or that we should not speak with our neighbors such as the Thyatians about defending ourselves against a common enemy."
His dwarvish pride stung, Daric started to protest. But the truth was that Rockhome could never hope to fight the Nation of Dragons alone, even if they locked themselves in their deepest caves.
King Daroban nodded at last, with great reluctance. "We have no choice. While my heart can find no trust in a dragon or hope that he will defend us against his own kind, I cannot deny that we need the Dragonlord. Korinn, if you and Solveig can find your one-time friend, then do everything in your
power to bring him back here at once."
*****
The cool, clear night was deep and silent, and the darkest shadows had filled the streets and passages of Braejr when Solveig heard the familiar sound of large, strong wings descending with powerful strokes into the courtyard. Her first thought was that Thelvyn and Kharendaen had returned for some reason, even though they had been gone barely an hour, and she hurried to the door expecting to find the dragons in
the courtyard. But she heard the fierce cry of a griffon even before she stepped out into the yard, so that she knew even before she saw the beast that her visitor was a messenger from Thyatis.
Solveig saw at once that the griffon rider was Darius Glantri, but she was rather surprised and mystified to see that his passenger was a dwarf. Until that moment, she would have thought that nothing could have convinced a dwarf to mount a griffon, especially in the precarious position of holding on tightly behind the rider. Darius struggled to calm the restive beast just long enough for the dwarf to leap down from the griffon's wide rump and move aside. Indeed, the young dwarf kept moving stiffly once he found himself safely on the ground, staggering almost to where Solveig waited in the yard at the edge of the paved court.
"Korinn Bear Slayer!" she remarked once she could see who it was. "If I had been asked to wager whether any dwarf would dare to ride a griffon, I would have placed my bet on you."
"I'm not much in the mood for mirth, if you don't mind," the dwarf said, still disgruntled over the manner of his arrival. "The city looks peaceful enough. I take it that the dragons haven't attacked here yet."
"No . . . no, they haven't," Solveig answered, too startled by that statement to know quite what to think.
"I would have thought they would have struck here first," Korinn said with a shrug. "Perhaps they just don't want to seem predictable."
Solveig could only stare in shock. It occurred to her that her two old friends might be perpetrating some foolish jest at her expense. She hoped that they were, since new attacks by dragons would be the worst possible news at that time, not only to her plans for unifying the Highlands but also to Thelvyn's plans to unify the dragons. Darius began leading his griffon away to the warehouse.
She elected to follow him. Korinn had to run to keep up with her long-legged stride. After hours of sitting on the haunches of a flying griffon, his legs were reluctant to move so quickly.
D& D - Mystara 03 Dragonmage of Mystara Page 7
