"I see no hope for it," he said after only a moment. "These gemstone dragons can come and go as they please, and I fear that they will be our chief problem from the first. Their wings can take them anywhere swiftly, and their flames can destroy our fortresses. But they cannot easily get at our underground cities. In our tunnels, their size is against them. We must prepare to close all the upper cities at once. All the goods that can be moved, all the children and those too old or too weak to fight, even the foreigners who live among us and choose not to flee, must be brought down into the tunnels at once. We will not surrender our upper cities and fortresses without a fight, but our main defense will be below ground."
Korinn nodded. "That will give us time to hold out until the dragons come."
Daroban turned to him. "You still trust that your old friend can convince the dragons to fight for us? Do not mistake me; I hope that you are correct. But I only hope, and nothing more. I cannot yet bring myself to trust in dragons until I have seen such a thing for myself."
"They will come," Korinn insisted. "But there will be whole armies following these Masters, and they might be able to crack open our defenses and invade our underground strongholds. When these armies come down from the steppes, they will have to enter Rockhome through the Styrdal Pass. Better, it seems, to keep them out of Rockhome as long as possible. I would like to take all the soldiers we can spare to strengthen Fort Denwarf." *
"Yes, that was my own thought," Daroban agreed. "You must go there at once. We will send all the soldiers and supplies we can spare as soon as we can. But we must also give some thought to Fort Evekarr to the northeast, and to the undefended pass on the Hrap River. Your brother Dorinn will prepare the defenses of Dengar."
Dorinn looked surprised to hear that, and quietly grateful.
He hadn't commanded a military force since his injury several years before, having served as an advisor to his father in Dengar while he recovered. Commanding the defenses of Dengar spared him the need to make swift rides or long, hard marches, which his disabilities would not allow.
Needing to reach Fort Denwarf as soon as possible, Korinn sent a messenger to ask the Ethengar to wait a brief time so that he could ride north with them. No one but a dragon or a griffon rider could travel more quickly than the warriors of the clans, even in the mountains of Rockhome. Korinn hurried to put on his armor and collect his weapons, and then he all but ran up the passages to upper Dengar. So it was that he reached the garrison stables only shortly after the Ethengar.
As it happened, the young warriors were pleased to have him in their company. They considered it a remarkably generous gesture on the part of the dwarves to allow the clans to flee into the mountains of Rockhome, and they had come prepared to be refused. And so they were very grateful and would have taken him anywhere, although Korinn knew that they were desperate to return to the defense of their own people and he promised not to slow their ride. He selected two of the best courier horses from the garrison for his own, and he rode away with the Ethengar only minutes later.
Unlike most dwarves, Korinn was not only used to riding but was also quite good at it, skills he had learned during his travels with Solveig White-Gold and Sir George Kirbey. Just the same, he wasn't used to keeping such a swift pace, and riding with the nomads required more concentration on his part. But he still had several hours of riding that day alone with his thoughts and his concerns.
Thelvyn Fox-Eye's finding of the Collar of the Dragons and his ascendancy as the Dragonking had come just in time for the dwarves. Korinn completely trusted Thelvyn to gather the dragons and come to the aid of Rockhome, but he still had to wonder if even that would be enough. The Ethengar had been forced to flee before this new enemy, and they had no idea of the full size and strength of the invading force. Korinn wondered how many dragons there were in all his world to respond to the Dragonking's call. Surely no more than a few
thousand at most.
For that matter, he had to wonder just how soon the Dragonking would be able to gather his army of dragons and bring them to Rockhome. A few days at least, and Korinn was no longer certain they had a few days to wait. The defense of the Styrdal Pass was a hopeless effort, he realized now. He might be able to delay the invading army for a while, but the Masters would inevitably prevail. The gemstone dragons could descend upon Fort Denwarf and leave it in ruins in a matter of minutes if they chose to. He was beginning to agree with the king that the only hope for the dwarves would be to secure themselves in their underground cities and do anything they could to keep the invaders out until the dragons came to their rescue.
Korinn spent the day thinking of anything he could to slow the invasion of Rockhome, but he couldn't come up with anything special. His enemies simply had too many advantages. His only real hope now was that the Masters would be delayed in securing their domination of the steppes before they pushed on into Rockhome. They might not even push on to the south but turn eastward instead, into the Flaemish realm, reclaiming the people who had once been their slaves. But he had no real hope of that.
They didn't reach Fort Denwarf until well after nightfall, although Korinn was pleased to have made the ride in only one day. The sentries at the gate recognized him before he had the chance to identify himself, and the commander of the fortress hurried out to greet him. Korinn requested supplies and accommodations for the Ethengar and fodder for their horses, turning over his own mounts to the garrison stablehands.
Korinn stood in the lamplit yard of the fortress while he explained the situation quickly to the commander of the fortress, a solid older dwarf of the Torkrest Clan, Balar, son of Balic. After riding all day, Korinn needed to walk around for a time before he tried to sit down to dinner.
"We really haven't learned anything new," General Balar told him. "The clans have continued to retreat in our direction, and some have even reached the mountains by now. I was loath to permit them to cross over our border unchallenged, and I'm not completely at ease with the king's decision to grant them safe passage into our lands."
"It suits our purposes," Korinn told him, answering in a manner that the general would appreciate. "Right now no one hates these invaders more than the Ethengar, who have already lost their land and herds. If the invaders try to avoid the Styrdal Pass and slip through the mountains, they'll have to answer to the Ethengar."
The preparations to make Fort Denwarf ready for battle had already begun. The fortress had taken only light damage during the first attack of the gemstone dragons several nights earlier. The highest tower was still missing its top, since the height of the tower made repairs difficult. Korinn wished there were more catapults at Fort Denwarf, remembering that those were the only weapons proven to have any effectiveness against dragons during the assault on the Highlands the previous year. Everything about this fortress had been designed to discourage invasion by more conventional enemies—particularly raiding parties of Ethengar warriors. The gemstone dragons, however, would be nearly impossible to fight.
Early the next morning, Korinn went through the pass to a high rise, where he could look out from the mountains across the rolling hills of the steppes. A shroud of dark smoke lay over the plains for as far as he could see, as if the Masters were trying to burn off all the steppes in a single vast wildfire. The clans themselves had apparently already reached the safety of the foothills, since he could see no movement out in the steppes anywhere along the southern border. There was also no clear sign of the enemy to the north, although Korinn wasn't sure whether he saw glimpses of the distant forms of gemstone dragons through the wall of smoke.
That seemed to suggest that they had a couple of days before the invaders reached the mountains of Rockhome. The first of the additional supplies and warriors being sent to reinforce the border fortress arrived later that same day. Unfortunately, there were few catapults or heavy crossbows that might have the power to penetrate a dragon's hide. Actually, he had no idea whether the gemstone dragons had the same armor as the dragons of
his own world. The dwarves had many cleverly designed ballistae and similar devices for hurling stones and heavy weights, but such things were unlikely to hit a dragon in flight.
By that night, the reddish glow of the fires marching southward across the steppes could be seen clearly from the fortress's higher towers, and all through the next day the great wall of dark smoke grew steadily larger. The wind was from slightly west of due north, driving the flames before it and carrying a great curtain of black smoke southward over the mountains of Rockhome. Smoke scuttled like storm clouds overhead, casting a deep shadow over the mountains, broken only occasionally when the sunlight penetrated fitfully through rents opened by the wind. The smell of smoke was thick and heavy.
More troops and supplies arrived during the day. Recognizing that his plans for the defense of Rockhome had changed, Korinn elected to send a part of the new troops and most of the supplies back to the south, where they would be needed more. He sent with them written orders stating his reasons why nothing more should be sent. Once the gemstone dragons attacked in earnest, Fort Denwarf would have to be abandoned, no matter what the strength of the defenders or their weapons.
By that night, the fires that were consuming the steppes seemed to march steadily like an incoming tide toward the foothills of the mountains of Rockhome. The angry light of the flames flickered on the bare stone of the peaks and ridges, and on the walls of the fortress. When dawn came, the black wall of smoke stretched across the horizon from east to west and loomed higher than the mountain peaks of the nearby Altan Tepes. Fires flared in many places as the line of flames began to push into the bracken and stunted trees of the lower foothills. But there was still no sign of the invaders. Apparently their army marched hidden somewhere behind the wall of flame and smoke, fanning the line of fire and driving it before them.
Korinn ordered the defenders of Fort Denwarf to don their armor and make ready their weapons, for the invasion of Rockhome could come at any time now. Their only hope was that the invaders would turn aside at the last minute. The line of fire began to push upward into the foothills, feeding greedily on the lightly wooded lower slopes and almost as quickly breaking into many smaller fires and dying away. The mountainsides were too rocky and barren, the stands of wood too sparse and stunted. There had been a great deal of rain in the mountains that spring, even along the northern slopes, and the trees were reluctant to burn.
The wall of dark smoke grew thicker, like a dark cloud that hung over the mountains. Finally the smoke began to lift grudgingly as the last fires faded. Now the dwarves had their first look at what the flames had done to the steppes. They were shocked to see a dead, barren land, the gently rolling hills black and bare where there had always been a sea of grass. A dull gray haze of smoke hung over the devastated land. Near at hand, several small armies were gathering into a single invasion force of great size and strength along the banks of the Styrdal River, obviously preparing for an assault on the pass.
Korinn went down beyond the pass for a closer look, to try to get some estimate of the size of the force that he would soon face. Four separate companies of soldiers, each some five thousand strong, were approaching from the west with their supply wagons and siege weapons, and at least five more companies were strung out in a line to the east for as far as he could see. He was even more alarmed to discover that their forces were assembled from many different races, some unlike any he had ever seen, not even vaguely human.
At least Korinn now had answers to all his questions. The invasion of Rockhome had become a certainty, and he knew now that an invasion force of perhaps fifty thousand was being directed at this pass alone. He felt reasonably certain they would not be attempting to storm the pass that day, and possibly not the next. The enemy forces were still scattered, and he could imagine with grim satisfaction that they must be in poor condition after marching the breadth of the steppes in all that ash and dust and choking smoke. Korinn also felt reasonably certain he could keep them from taking Fort Denwarf for many days, as long as the Masters themselves did not take a hand in the assault on the fortress. But the gemstone dragons
remained curiously absent.
Korinn was concerned about those missing dragons, fearful that they had already passed secretly over the mountains and were raiding with impunity in the cities and settlements of Rockhome to the south. His question was answered later that night, when gemstone dragons began to fly swiftly, alone or in small groups, through the center of the pass, just beyond the reach of the weapons of Fort Denwarf. Their business was obviously to the south, and for now they seemed content to completely ignore the border fortress.
This was Korinn's first opportunity to actually see the gemstone dragons. He had been wondering how much they were like the dragons of his own world. He thought that they were larger than most dragons he had seen, the shapes of their heads and ridges different from that of any breed he knew. Their jewel-like armor gave them a very remarkable appearance, as if they were not living creatures at all but statues carved of stone or cut from facetted jewels that had been brought to life. He watched them hurtle past in the night, wondering where they were going and what they were planning, and he could only hope that the dwarves of Rockhome were already secure below the ground.
The fearful night passed, but the new day only brought the dwarvish defenders that much closer to the inevitability of invasion. By midmorning, the sentries had left their posts farther down the pass, retreating back to the fortress. They brought the warning that the invading armies were beginning their slow march along the road into the mountains, even though a couple of the companies from the east had yet to join the main body of the army. Fort Denwarf would be under siege by nightfall.
For the dozenth time, Korinn reviewed his plans for the battle to hold the Styrdal Pass. He had one plan of defense if the invading armies attacked first, and a second, very different plan if the gemstone dragons attacked. He had to take for granted that he would have to face the Masters sooner or later, especially if he was successful in holding up their army. The only plan he did not consider was that Thelvyn Fox-Eyes and the dragons would come to his rescue at the last moment. He had no doubt that the dragons would come, but he knew they needed time. Thelvyn was too clever to go to war unprepared; he would wait until he had a force of dragons powerful enough to face the Masters and their army.
Late that afternoon, as the sun was sinking behind the mountains to the west, the front ranks of the invaders came up through the pass and halted a short distance from the gates of Fort Denwarf. They stopped just beyond the range of most longbows or light crossbows, and they moved their siege weapons and many of their supply wagons to the front to provide added protection. Then, to all appearances, they began to make camp for the night, as if they had no wish to begin battle in the darkness. They were at some disadvantage in bringing their forces against the fortress, since there was only a small open area before the gate.
Indeed, the invaders were required to camp on the road itself, since the last three miles of the approach to Fort Denwarf had been cut into the rocky eastern wall of the deep ravine formed by the Styrdal River. There were sheer cliffs or unclimbably steep slopes on the east side of the road. The west side of the road, bordered by a high, massive stone curb, fell away into the darkness of the ravine. While the design of the road appeared to be a simple matter of convenience, dwarves seldom left anything to chance that might prove important to the defense of their cities and treasures.
Korinn waited until well after nightfall, giving the invaders time to make their camp and settle in for the night. He had been standing on the wall of the fortress watching them for some time, and he could easily believe the report that they were slaves whose minds and wills were under the control of the Masters. They seldom spoke, or at least when they did they spoke too softly to be heard, never singing or laughing or taunting the defenders but going about their tasks with a lifeless, almost mindless intensity.
"How are you at ninepins?" Korinn a
sked General Balar.
"My boys are very good at it," the older dwarf answered. "Shall we have a game tonight?"
"Right now would seem to be a good time, while the Masters aren't here to interfere."
The defenders of Fort Denwarf began their "game" only a few minutes later. A large ballista released its load with a dull, heavy snap and creak of timbers, and a large stone lifted deceptively slowly over the wall of the gateyard. The dwarves knew their business well, and the stone sailed out over the road over a hundred yards before it crashed into the nearest of the siege engines the invaders had brought forward. The impact crushed the base of the small tower, which gradually tilted, then fell forward as if it were in slow motion. The heavy stone itself continued on, gathering speed on the steep incline of the road, brutally battering aside supply wagons.
Dwarves were meticulous in their plans, and they had anticipated circumstances such as this in their designs. Over the years, they had cut stones, ranging from a hundred pounds to several tons, into perfectly round shot for the ballistae. Of course, even the dwarves could not hurl a stone more than a couple of hundred yards or so, and the road disappeared around a turn in the pass not much farther beyond that range. But the dwarves had devised a way that allowed their weapons to have a much greater effective range. The road was wide, bordered by the wall of the cliff on one side and a high stone curb on the other, and it descended steadily to the sentry post on the far side, nearly three miles away. The descent was just steep enough to keep a large stone rolling at a deadly pace for the entire distance.
During the day, the dwarves had moved all their ballistae into the gate yard along with a generous supply of shot, so that they were able to fling stones over the wall as quickly as they could reload. The first three dozen shots reduced the barrier of siege weapons and supply wagons to shattered ruins. Most of the stones continued to roll along the road, scattering the encamped invaders. Indeed, the first stone caught a large portion of the army by surprise; many of the soldiers failed to understand their situation until three or four stones had rolled through in rapid succession. They scrambled desperately to get out of the way, but there was nowhere for them to go. They were trapped on the road, left trying to dodge as best they could while the stones bounced back and forth between the inner wall and the curb.
D& D - Mystara 03 Dragonmage of Mystara Page 17
