“Were these from the mountain?” Frau asked.
“Not likely,” Jerrie said, pulling a piece of paper with the drawing of Grundel on it. The only difference was under Grundel’s picture and next to Rundo’s was his own.
“What is that?” Frau asked.
Grundel didn’t even need to see the paper to answer. “It’s the picture of the targets for the assassins. It’s the same as the ones from Ambar. These most likely followed us. The Black Dragons in the mountain are more likely focused on defending themselves than coming after us right now.”
Jerrie was nodding his head in agreement.
Frau looked around at the others. “Well, we’re up, and we just got attacked in the middle of the night. Let’s see how they like it.”
Chapter Fourteen
Dungin Mountain or Shinestone?
An hour after the attack by the Black Dragon assassins, the dwarves were marching on Shinestone. The orcs guarding the entrance ran inside the mountain as they began to approach. The dwarves of Tiefes Loch get close enough to block the view of the entrance before the rest of the dwarves branched out. Surprise was the key here. About a hundred feet farther ahead was the narrow path to the small entrance that the Haufen dwarves would take. Rundo walked past it at the head of the contingent of dwarves from Evermount and Shinestone. It took them nearly an hour to make the trip up to the entrance. When Rundo looked down he saw that the Haufen dwarves were already in place. He stripped down, rolled his clothes up, and handed them to Grundel. He looked over at Verrator and winked at him. He saw the anger in the dwarf’s eyes as he connected with Messah. A second later a four-foot-tall hawk was leaping off the landing and flying down to the smaller one.
The dwarves from Haufen pushed back and held up their weapons, but they didn’t strike at him. Rundo realized then that it might have been a good idea to warn them about this part. He landed on the small landing and shifted back into himself. He knew he would eventually be able to do both at the same time, but he still wasn’t that comfortable shifting. When he was standing on the small landing he reached out into the stone. He felt the aura of the stone, and then manipulated it to do as he wanted. The stones rolled out of the tunnel and off the landing. The orcs had collapsed a good ten feet of tunnel, and Rundo rolled some of the stone out into the walls and ceiling to support the entrance. Not waiting for acknowledgment from the dwarves, he shifted again. He flew back to the landing where Grundel and Jerrie waited with the others.
He touched down on the landing and shifted again. Grundel handed him his clothes and he got dressed. He made sure that the jacket that would help protect him against the wizards was buttoned up. He checked all of his blades and then looked back at the queen.
“Whenever you’re ready,” he said.
Frau looked down at the other landing where the dwarves from Haufen were already pouring through the narrow entrance. “Do it,” she said.
Fredin was in his room when Gescheit came to him. “The dwarves are coming. The orcs at the entrance have already fallen back into the tunnel.”
Fredin got up and went to his armor in the corner of the room. He never wore it in the mountain. His armor had a big spike on each shoulder with three small ones around it. His helmet had two high horns on it. He had found this in the mountain after they took it. Surprisingly it had fit him, and it matched his armor so well he had to keep it. He didn’t wear it around because he would have to worry about it catching on all of the low ceilings in the tunnels. Fighting against the dwarves, though, he thought he should wear it.
Gescheit stopped him as he started out of the room. “There is one other thing,” Gescheit said.
Fredin looked down at the smaller orc. “What thing?”
“Hure,” Gescheit answered.
“Hure?” Fredin said confused.
“She has your orcling inside her,” Gescheit explained.
Fredin turned back into the room to where Hure was strapping on her armor, unaware of their conversation.
“Hure! You have my orcling in you?” he demanded.
Hure looked back at him, and then looked at Gescheit angrily. That was all the confirmation Fredin needed. He turned to Gescheit. “Take her. Get her out of here before the dwarves get here. If they take the mountain, go find my grandson. Between your intelligence and Hure’s, and with Hure’s fighting ability, they should be well trained. Teach them all of the things it means to be a Dungin. If we fight the dwarves off, then come back to me.”
Gescheit looked from Fredin to Hure. “I don’t think I can get her to leave the fighting.”
“Can you carry her?” Fredin asked.
Gescheit looked to the female orc. “She is big, but I could carry her if she wasn’t in her armor.”
Fredin walked over to Hure, who was watching them from across the room and had obviously been trying to overhear their conversation. “Turn around,” Fredin said.
Hure stared at him for a second, but she did what she was told. Fredin slammed his fist into the back of her head. She fell to the ground. He pulled her armor off of her. “That should keep her down for a couple hours. Hurry and get her and my orcling out of here,” he said.
With his armor Fredin walked to Vingaza’s room down the hall. There he found all eight wizards waiting.
“The dwarves are coming. We need to get ready,” he said to Vingaza, ignoring the other wizards.
“Go,” Vingaza told the wizards. Four of them got up and left the room. Two were heading to the main entrance; two were heading up to the upper levels to inform Crone that the dwarves were coming. Crone would place them were he wanted them when they got down into the tunnels. Vingaza and one of the others would stay with Fredin, and he would put the other two in front of his orcs, where they would help push the dwarves back when they fought through the orcs that Hure had brought with her.
Fredin walked out of the room. Vingaza followed him, and the other wizards followed Vingaza. When he got down to the lower levels the Dungin orcs were already in place. Gescheit always made things happen quickly. He had made the right decision making him his advisor, and the fact that the orc had put the defenses in motion before coming to get him only reinforced his decision to make the orc responsible for his son’s fate.
Fredin went to the front of his clan. There was a three-hundred-foot open tunnel between them and the back of the orc clan that Hure had brought. He looked at the two humans who had come forward.
“Right here. Wait until they are almost to—” He stopped talking and listened. He thought he had heard something. The echo of a horn sounded as it traveled down through the tunnels of the mountain. This time he was sure he heard it. Vingaza had heard it this time, too. “The dwarves made it in above us. They tricked us again. Follow me!” he shouted, running past his own orcs back toward the tunnels that would take him back up through the mountain.
The only reason they’d had any warning at all was because his uncle had been taking his time getting down here. He left the other orcs at the entrance where the dwarves were certainly going to come through as well. He needed to stop the ones above from getting a solid foothold. He knew that the more tunnels the dwarves took, the more dangerous they would become. They would form up and push down tunnels coming from all directions. He needed to keep them isolated.
Crone had taken his time after hearing that the dwarves were coming. It would take them a while before they were even to the mountain. The plan in place meant that they would have to fight through thousands of orcs before they even made it to where Crone and his orcs would be waiting. That would take hours. His troops had gathered, and he slowly made his way to the front of the line. With the orcs all in two columns down the tunnel, he had to make four turns before he was at the front. The two wizards were there. They would soften up the front of the dwarf line so that he could lead his orcs into them. They would be nearly beaten by then. The dwarves had the advantage in the tunnels because it was where they were most comfortable, but it was also were they wo
uld have to fight through a much larger force, wearing themselves out. Even with their advantages, the odds were against the dwarves.
Just as he was about to lead the orcs down the tunnel that would take them into the lower levels of Dungin Mountain, he heard the loud crash of stone on stone. That was soon met by the sound of squealing and screaming orcs. The dwarves must have had some secret way in. He ran back the way he had come, the human wizards in tow. When he turned that fourth corner he pulled up short. A pile of rocks had grown arms and legs and was swinging those arms of stone out in front of it. Orcs were being knocked back as others were smashed between stone walls and stone arms.
“Do something!” he shouted to the wizards.
Both of the wizards shot some kind of stream of black energy at the stone monster’s leg. The golem took a step forward but there was no leg to hold it up. It tumbled forward, crushing half a dozen orcs beneath it. The other orcs leapt on top of it. A few smashed stone with hammers, and the rest pried stones apart with axes, swords, or whatever they had that would fit between the rock. They were still picking it apart when the front of the dwarf line came into view. The only thing to be seen was a line of shields and the tops of a couple helmets. That is, except for the huge dwarf standing just behind the front row of shields and the human next to him, who both stood chest and head over the top of the shield wall.
“Get ready!” Crone shouted to the wizards who stood behind him. He had been assured that the wizards would be able to attack twice. The attack they had used against the stone monster had been different than what they had said they would do, but since they had not fled, he knew they had at least one more attack left in them. He stood his ground as the dwarf line marched toward him and his orcs. They would slow the dwarves down so that he could use the wizards to catch as many of them as he could.
Grundel walked behind the front row of the dwarf shield wall. They moved forward in step, never leaving any opening in the wall. The golem had killed at least a hundred of the orcs. They were already walking over the bodies of fallen orcs, and they were still three dozen paces away from where the golem had fallen. Grundel looked past the orcs that were beating on the fallen golem to the huge orc whose head nearly touched the top of the tunnel. This must be the clan chief. He was at least as big as the one who had fought his grandfather. That thought pushed him on, and he forced his way through the shield wall. He launched one of his axes at the orc. It cut through half a dozen orcs who weren’t quick enough to get out of the way. The big orc dropped to the ground. The axe was on its way back and the orc was nearly back on his feet when one of the humans up against the wall shouted something at the orc and he dropped to the ground again, the axe flying harmlessly over his head and back to Grundel’s hand. His attack spurred the dwarves on and now the shield wall was pushing forward at a jogging pace. Grundel threw his axe again, this time at the orcs that were charging toward him. After cutting its way through four of the orcs, he called it back to his hand. The other orcs that it hadn’t caught were nearly on him.
Grundel began cutting a path through the orcs. The ones who broke around him ran into a wall of shields. That wall opened only to allow a sword or axe to slip through and cut into the lower half of an orc body. The wall marched over the fallen orcs and blades constantly bit down, finishing off the downed orcs as they passed. They were ten paces away from the big orc and the two humans when the humans started firing at them with their magic. A huge fireball, at least three feet from top to bottom, burned straight through the orcs between them. Just before it hit Grundel he heard someone yell behind him. The fireball shrank down at the last second as Grundel’s belt buckle consumed it. He saw the shock in both wizards’ eyes. They had just killed the wall of orcs that had protected them, and their magic had fallen on Grundel harmlessly. One wizard shot a bolt of lightning and the other shot another ball of fire. Grundel was charging forward, and the fire and lightning were pulled harmlessly into his belt. The wizards fired off another volley, this time both shooting some kind of dark magical energy that looked like strings of oil. Grundel sensed that his belt was nearing its limit. It would hold one of those attacks, but he would feel the other.
The blast never made contact. At the last second Jerrie dove out in front of him and the blasts were deflected off him into the wall. Huge chunks of the stone flew in every direction, and the whole tunnel shook from the deafening blast, but Grundel was still charging forward, undeterred, and Jerrie was beside him. One of Jerrie’s knives flew forward, cutting through the wizard’s magical shield and slamming into his chest. The other wizard was trying to teleport. He was already beginning to become insubstantial when the knife flew between Jerrie and Grundel and slammed into the wizard. He may not have been solid enough for a normal blade to strike him, but Grundel’s magical blade dissipated the magic, and the wizard rematerialized, falling to the ground, dead, with a knife in his chest. Grundel noted that both wizards had worn the same shocked look he’d seen on every other wizard when their magical shield failed. They really put too much faith in those magical barriers.
Grundel reached the huge orc and brought one of his axes down on him. The orc brought his own longsword up to block. Grundel expected his axe to break the big blade, but it did not. The sword the orc carried must have been enchanted as well. Dwarves were running up behind him.
“Hold!” Grundel shouted to everyone behind him. The orcs had frozen behind the big orc. He was squared off, one-on-one with the big orc. “You orcs make claims by challenge, right? I challenge you for this mountain. Let your clan live. I will beat you, and your clan will leave the mountain.”
Crone stared at the dwarf in disbelief. “You are not an orc, and your dwarves will run me down if I kill you.”
“That is true. They aren’t going to give up the mountain, but after I kill you, if your orcs don’t resist, we will let them leave on their own,” Grundel replied.
Crone couldn’t help but laugh. “If I fall, they will charge you and cut you down.”
Grundel saw a flash of steel and started to bring his axe up to defend himself when he saw the knife bury itself in the big orc’s shoulder. Grundel didn’t hesitate; he swung one axe overhead at the orc, who was able to get his sword up to block, but with his wounded shoulder he couldn’t turn the blade around to block the other axe that was coming in at his side. Grundel’s axe broke through ribs and cut into the orc’s lungs. The orcs behind him charged forward just like he said they would. Jerrie was beside him in an instant.
“I had him!” Grundel yelled over the squealing roar of the orcs.
“Yeah, but he already denied your challenge!” Jerrie yelled back, and then he disappeared into the mass of orcs in front of him.
Jerrie slid between the two orcs in front, cutting at the backs of heir knees. He got through the front line and all the orcs behind them were pushing forward, so there was almost no space between them. There was no reason for the second line to expect an attack because they weren’t at the front yet, and they were all preoccupied with trying to push to the front. Jerrie took advantage, staying low and sliding between the orcs’ legs, cutting at the back of knees and through the backs of heels as he passed. By the time any of the orcs could react, he was already three or four orcs away. That meant that the orcs who were trying to hit him were actually attacking other orcs. Within minutes there were orcs fighting each other all the way to the end of this tunnel.
Jerrie didn’t want to turn down the next tunnel. He had already been kicked once. If he got too far away he wouldn’t have a safe direction to try to escape to. He worked his way back down the tunnel toward the dwarf line. He continued to cut at leg joints as he worked his way back. He broke through into an opening where fighting had broken out. He was in the middle of six orcs. He had just cut the back of the knee of one, so he only had to worry about five of them. There were three on each side. One of the orcs in front of him thrust at him with his sword. He brought his arm up, knocking the blade high so that it drove i
nto the orc behind him, who was raising a club over his head. Jerrie ran his knife across the inside of the orc’s thigh, opening the artery, as the orc tried to free his sword. Another orc almost caught him on the side of the head with a mace. He dodged the attack purely by luck as he dove away from the dying orc. He slid his knife across the back of the orc as he went past and disappeared into the crowded mass of orcs.
Here, in the thick crowd, was where Jerrie was most dangerous. He was safer lost in this mass of legs, moving as quickly as he could. Sometimes he crawled, other times he dove forward, but he kept moving fast enough that by the time any of the orcs realized he was an enemy he had already disappeared again. He came to the front of the orc line sooner then he had anticipated. Between the orc infighting he had caused, the dwarves’ shield wall tactics, and Grundel falling behind that shield wall to throw his axes into the masses of orcs—likely killing dozens with every throw—the dwarves were making steady progress.
Rundo walked next to Frau and Verrator. Grundel was in front of them now, throwing his axe over and over again. The shield wall had held, and they had lost only about a dozen dwarves so far. A couple others had been wounded and taken to the back of the formation. Rundo wanted to start letting his knives fly, but he couldn’t really get good throws over the shield wall in front of him.
The Half Dwarf Prince Trilogy Page 14
