Delver Magic II: Throne of Vengeance, Jeff Inlo [graded readers .TXT] 📗
- Author: Jeff Inlo
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Yave spoke on, unrelenting in her charges. “We have identified the elves, and they are indeed from Dark Spruce. It appears that our former trading partners will not allow us to simply end our dependence upon them. They have their reasons for wanting us to lose to the algors. These same elves now are left without a source of gems, gold, or iron. They are incapable of mining for themselves. Is it any wonder they would seek to sabotage our efforts? If they weaken us, they force us to renew our trade with them. If they attack us while our forces are occupied, they could march on Dunop and take whatever they desire.”
The grumbles of the generals turned to outright denunciations of the elves.
“Never!”
“Over our corpses.”
Yave nodded with a smirk. “That is my feeling exactly. That is why I have already ordered Strog to recall his army this day. We will not be unprepared for these unprovoked attacks against our independence. In fact, since the elves have made the first move of aggression in trying to ally with our enemies, we have no choice but to respond in kind. If we allow this action to go unpunished, the elves will still believe they can dictate their own rules upon us. Consider what might have happened if the elves’ ploy was successful. According to the War Com, if the algors had been warned, hundreds of dwarf warriors would have been slain at their hands. This can only be what the elves wanted, why else would they seek to warn our enemies?”
Strog wished to speak out, to clarify the strategies, but the generals were filled with anger. They had no more love for the queen than he, but they hated the elves. Their emotions now blinded them. He remained silent, contemplating his true alternatives. He could only hope that Yave would agree to a single quick strike against the two human towns and the elves of Dark Spruce, then allow him to return to the algors. The thought of marching his army back and forth through the tunnels under the Lacobian desert disgusted him, but he had little choice. Yave was forcing this upon him, and all he could do was develop the best plans to deal with a now growing war.
He played over several strategies in his mind involving the deployment of his forces. He would send the bulk of his army and his finest men against Connel. The town was large, and though defended by a full garrison, the humans would be unprepared for the assault. The dwarves could pick their targets and would probably face little casualties. They would do great damage, but remain prepared to return to the Lacobian to finish off the algors. He could send a much smaller party against the town of Burbon and also do significant damage. As for the elves, it was also best to send a smaller band of warriors, make it look like a group of renegades as opposed to an organized force. This might keep the elves guessing as to the reasons behind the attack and stall any concerted offensive on their part against Dunop.
As Strog mulled over these strategies, Yave had continued with her harangue against the elves. The generals were now calling for the blood of the elves, just as Yave added another enemy to their list.
“I am afraid it does not end there,” she growled. “The elves did not act alone. A delver was with them to warn the algors. I need not remind you that delvers live with humans. But I ask you why would a delver concern himself with our dealings? Could it be he knows of our reserves of gold and gems? We all know of the humans’ greed. If they see an opportunity to steal from us, they will seize it. Thus, we are alone and face many enemies. There is but one thing we can do. We must fight.”
The generals agreed with shouts and war cries, all save Strog. His silence did not go unnoticed. Yave brought the attention of the others down upon him.
“As I have said, I have asked the War Com to recall our army. It is now time he profess his strategies to deal with our many enemies.”
Strog spoke evenly, but with a low grumbling voice. He mapped out his strategies and the deployment of his forces. His plans involving the humans were well received. The small force against the elves, however, was questioned vigorously by both Yave and the lower ranking generals. He defended his points with crisp strategy; tactics the queen scoffed at, but the generals embraced. They could not deny his basic assumptions and in the face of their agreement, even Yave was forced to submit.
The queen, however, remained intent upon having the last word. “So what do my generals say? Which of you will lead an attack against the elves of Dark Spruce?”
Each general volunteered save Strog. Yave picked one, then set her sights upon the War Com.
“You withheld. I can only surmise that means you wish to lead your troops against the humans. I shall allow you to lead the large force against Connel.”
It was a calculated move, a direct affront against him. There was little to gain in leading this assault and much to lose. Since the strength of the army would be under his command, Strog would be expected to win and win easily. There would be little honor or glory won in even the most convincing of victories. Any sufficient dwarf casualties or failures to impose severe damage to the human city would be viewed in total disgrace. Strog saw this for what it was, but refused to react. He accepted the command with a nod.
Twilight in Burbon. The moon would be in quarter phase, but it had not yet risen above the horizon. A full harvest moon would have given enough light to read by, but that was still several days away. Fading light in the west left the sky a deep dark blue, not quite the black of night. Most stars remained blanketed out of sight, only a few bright ones in the east were visible. The air was dry but cold, even for dusk in the harvest season, the wind absent. The scent of many fires from a host of chimneys filled the streets. The plumes of smoke drifted lazily about rooftops, wafting in the air with no particular place to go.
The dwarves broke through the surface in a dirt alley between a private residence and a shoemaker’s shop. Covered in dirt from digging their access tunnel and dressed in black battle dress, they faded easily into the shadows. Dark chest plates protected their stout bodies, horned battle helmets covered their wide heads. They appeared like small, dirty tanks moving silently through this dark passage of Burbon. Broad shouldered and armed with axe, broadsword, and mace, they spilled upwards from the hole in the ground. They took to several diamond shaped formations and remained silent and unmoving until each was in ready position.
They were not seen, not by citizens and not by Burbon’s guard. The soldiers were busy watching for goblins at the clearing outside the wall. The human troops stood in the towers and at the gates. They remained alert, but their patrols were designed to catch threats before they reached the wall. The guard could not have guessed an enemy was already inside and ready to strike.
As for the ordinary citizens of Burbon, most were already off the streets. Though they had faith in Sy and Enin, the thought of goblin raiding parties kept them from unnecessary evening travel and most remained in their homes. Shades covered windows. Those that were uncovered revealed the blazing glow of hearth fires. Only a few souls braved the dark, and these lonely travelers moved quickly to the taverns and inns. They had no desire to walk along aimlessly or to lengthen their route to enjoy the clear harvest night. They chose direct paths and well lit streets. Since the shoemaker’s shop was closed, no one ventured near this particular dark alley.
The dwarf commander in charge of this attack considered his situation and the means to achieve his objectives. He was to cause major casualties to the human guard, to destroy their military headquarters as well as any weapon stores, and relieve the humans of their food supplies. Underground listening posts had identified and located most of the targets. The office of the captain was located near the center of town, as were many general stores. The dwarf commander now had his strike force above ground, covered in the darkness and in formation. He need only make his way to the guard headquarters to achieve the better part of his objectives. His eyes narrowed. Accustomed to the relative darkness of his underground home of Dunop, he saw well into the night.
Most of Burbon’s streets were well-lit with flaming lamps. Only side alleys remained bathed in darkness. The main roads were straight and clear of obstruction. The dwarves would have to venture into the light of the lamps if they wished to reach the city center. There were only meager shadows and even less cover. The commander lifted his arm and waved to the opposite end of his formation. A dwarf sentry moved across the alley to make his report.
“Human guards spotted near the wall. They are moving away from us, watching the perimeter. Four towers with full complements accounted for. All watching outside the wall. Fifth tower out of my sight. Sixth tower incomplete, no platform, and no guard. Inspection of either the north or south gate impossible at this time.”
The sentry waited for further orders.
The commander whispered his instructions, but with no less bark of authority. “Take two axe men. Return to the tunnel. Take the second exploratory tunnel and resurface near the sixth tower. Chop the support beams of the unfinished platform. When it collapses, return here.”
The sentry did not delay. He tapped two dwarves upon the shoulder before diving back into the tunnel. The two dwarves followed obediently.
#
Enin stood near the south gate. His attention remained focused beyond the wall, upon his magic web that covered the blind spot in the hills. The wizard had recast the spell only moments ago, and the web was restored to full power. It was ready to catch its intended prey, but Enin truly doubted it would be necessary. Since Ryson had left, there were no further signs of goblins, or of the serp and the shag. The wizard felt nothing, sensed nothing. If there were goblins out there, they were far in the hills. They were certainly not near his web or he would have sensed them. Enin felt secure enough to consider what he had learned about the web spell. Though several guards stood around him, he spoke openly to himself of altering the spell in another form.
“I thought of a spider, like a spider, and I created a web. Combining a trap with a warning. Stronger spells of the same
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