Delver Magic II: Throne of Vengeance, Jeff Inlo [graded readers .TXT] 📗

position looked like a fireworks display.

Sy signaled for the ranged attack to begin with the attack of the carts. Arrows and rocks followed the burning hay. The initial barrage was awe-inspiring as dwarves crumbled in surprise as well as agony. The flying embers blinded them to the archers’ position. They could not comprehend the depth of their situation.

The dwarf formations broke apart before they could take hold. The force commander cursed her own warriors, screamed at them to fall into place, but only confusion reigned. Despite her ranting, the warriors sought safety that did not exist. Some attempted to scramble back down the tunnel which served only to slow the exiting dwarves even more.

Sy’s men lit another cart, then another. They kept these at hand, used them to block any southern escape. The bright light of the fires dissuaded the dwarves from approaching. Sy’s men stood without challenge while the enemy fought against the volley of arrows and stones from above.

The dwarves were trapped and many panicked, but the force commander kept her head. She crouched low and used her armor as protection against the hail of projectiles. She ordered her warriors to follow suit. If they could maintain a formation, she knew they could break through the northern bulwark with their axes.

Her warriors failed to respond. Only a handful followed her direction, and though these were safe for the moment, they could only watch as their comrades fell. Those that lost their heads scurried about against her orders. They moved in anger and in confusion. They set at first to breaking the bulwark. When they could not reach it, desperation led them to the flaming carts.

With some dwarves now moving toward the wagons, Sy ordered the appropriate response. As many of his men had crossbows draped over their backs, he directed their immediate use. Now, arrows struck from ground level as well as above. The arrows cut down the dwarves in handfuls. The dead piled about the surfacing point. His men remained calm even as the invaders hastened about in pure confusion.

Sy signaled the situation to the surrounding group leaders. He read the responding signal fires from the towers. He was not alone in success. The first battles were indeed going their way. Ground forces all over town were diverting dwarf attack parties into waiting ambushes while archers were keeping a steady stream of arrows upon every surfacing tunnel. From what he could tell, the dwarves were armed only with standard weapons. There was not a single report of a war machine. The enemy had come with arrogance and was now paying the price.

Sy hoped the price would include a hasty retreat, an end to this battle before it wrought even more carnage, but the fury he saw in the dwarf commander kept him from holding long to such hope.

#

Voth Stonepillar growled at the dwarves in front of him. His forces were not moving quickly enough through the tunnels. He was trapped below the surface long beyond what he had hoped. Worse, he began hearing reports of battles, battles with unsettling outcomes. Dwarf casualty reports were mounting even as he stood stuck in that infernal tunnel.

“What is happening?” he demanded of his aide-de-camp.

The aide could not answer. He was stuck as well, and there was no room in the tunnel for a forward runner. Every single branch of the main tunnel was clogged with dwarf warriors. Only rumors drifted back from the lines.

“Why aren’t we moving?” Voth demanded again.

“The main body of our force is progressing,” the aide assured without really knowing.

“How do you know?” Voth snarled.

The aide decided to return to silence.

Voth’s patience was at an end. He began pushing his way forward. Warriors ahead of him scowled and cursed, until they saw his armor crest. In the presence of the War Com, they quickly bit back their complaints.

Voth moved to a sub-tunnel which led to the western edge of Burbon. He continued to press through the packed corridor even as his aide became trapped in the cluster of dwarves. Cursing and shouting, the new War Com pushed to the end of the passage. Just at the surfacing point, his eyes fell heavily upon the dwarf in charge of attack coordination. His hands fell even heavier as he took hold of the monitor by the armor.

“What is going on?”

“We are being slowed,” the monitor replied with distaste for Voth’s hold upon him.

Voth did not remove his thick hands. “Slowed by what?!”

The coordinator pushed Voth’s hands away. He had no love or respect for this War Com. Strog was the true War Com, replaced unjustly by the royalist swine that dared to call herself queen.

Voth stared in disbelief at the monitor’s disrespect. “Slowed by what?” he repeated.

“Resistance!” the coordinator replied with defiance.

“Resistance? From the humans? That’s impossible. Get these warriors moving. I want them up on the surface immediately!”

“Fine.”

The coordinator waved to the waiting warriors. “You heard the War Com. Get moving. Everybody moves.”

The first warriors in line hesitated.

Voth exploded. He grabbed one around the waist and literally threw the warrior up beyond the opening. He grabbed others waiting behind and forced them upon the surface as well. The line started to move and Voth’s face lit up with satisfaction. He turned upon the coordinator with vengeance.

“You are relieved of your post and duty. The queen will be interested to hear how you have slowed our progress.”

The monitor did not need to reply. A chorus of death cries from outside the tunnel formed a response for him. He simply looked upon the War Com with his own silent satisfaction.

Voth stopped the line. “What was that?”

“The death of twenty or so warriors. Their blood is on your hands.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the resistance from the humans. They have already pinpointed this tunnel. They have nets surrounding the opening. They also have a host of archers on rooftops and out of our reach. As soon as our warriors file into a formation to tear down the nets, they get routed.”

“Archers? Nets?”

“Yes. Leaving this tunnel is like committing suicide.”

“Then send them down another tunnel,” Voth ordered.

“Which one? There are only eight. There are already too many dwarves per surfacing point. We have close to a thousand dwarves backed up at this one alone. Every one is clogged and I assume every one is under heavy attack.”

“This can’t be.”

“But it is. If we had used Strog’s battle plan, this never would have happened. Our entire force would already be upon the surface. We would have been able to bring down the walls and buildings the archers are standing upon. Instead, we are stuck down here while the humans pick us off despite our superiority in arms, strength, and numbers.”

“Strog is gone,” Voth shot back, unable to respond in any other fashion. “We have to attack with what we have.”

“Don’t be a fool. These warriors do not deserve to die. Give them a chance at victory.”

“And what is it you suggest? What great plan do you have?”

Voth did not expect an answer, but he received one just the same.

“I’ve already called for diggers to branch off this tunnel toward the wall. They will surface at its base. That is where the greatest number of archers are positioned. We will surface there and crumble the wall. A force commander can then take a formation to rip apart the nets that contain this tunnel. Once the nets are down, we can exit from both points. If we get four strike teams of fifty warriors each, led by seasoned force commanders, upon the streets, we can begin to take the battle to the humans.”

“You ordered this on your own?”

“I did.”

Voth boiled but withheld any condemnation. He turned with a defeated grumble.

“Send a runner back to keep me informed. I will see to the remainder of our forces.”

#

Sy kept his men in tight formation. They jabbed at any dwarf that succeeded in reaching the still blazing carriages, but they did not engage beyond that point. Arrows from crossbows saw to the demise of any surviving stragglers.

Even as the dwarves fell, one sight disturbed the captain of the guard greatly. Despite the number of dwarves that had succumbed to the ambush, dozens more continued to emerge from the underground tunnel. After fifty, he hoped they would slow. After a hundred, he hoped they would stop. They did neither. It quickly became a matter of numbers. There were not enough arrows and stones to keep all these dwarves at bay.

Worse, the dwarves that now surfaced and witnessed the carnage began following the advice of the force commander. As she remained crouched upon the open ground, she was nearly invulnerable to the barrage of projectiles. Though dozens of arrows struck her, they bounced harmlessly off her armor. As the other invaders now followed her example, the number of threats on the surface increased exponentially.

With a formidable force now on the surface, the commander called for the execution of a battle plan. She used the blade of her axe to cover her face as she called orders to the others. Slowly, they fell into formation to handle the bulwark. Tightly bound together, they used each other as shields. They trudged forward to the pointed stumps of the northern obstacle. Once in arm’s reach, one after another would rise up and swing an axe or mace. Their mighty weapons made short work of the barricade. Splinters of tree trunks quickly replaced the once formidable bulwark. With the northern passage free, the force commander ordered an immediate advance.

Sy followed with an order of retreat. He did not wish to leave the tunnel unattended, but it was now necessary. If they remained, he knew what would happen. The force commander was probably circling around even now. If he kept his soldiers in place, he would be caught between her and the tunnel. There would be no escape.

He signaled his new plans to the archers as he moved his force quickly to the west. Before leaving, he took one last glance at the battleground. Dead dwarves lay strewn across the open road like lumps of stone in a gravel pit. He estimated well over two hundred casualties for the enemy and none for his own force. Even with such overwhelming evidence of a one-sided battle, Sy could not chase the feeling of impending disaster.

Perhaps it was the number of dwarves that continued to file out of the tunnel, or perhaps it was the cold chill in the air beyond the burning wagons, but whatever caused it, Sy felt little more than dread for the remainder of the battle.

#

Enin walked silently through the streets unseen by both friends and foes. A spell of deception hid his existence. The light bent around him. Emptiness swallowed his footfalls. It was not quite invisibility, for he could be seen if one looked directly at him and was well aware of his presence. If not, he was nothing more than a disturbance in the air, a breeze not worth noticing.

From alley to alley, he moved through the town examining every facet of the burgeoning battle. It became quickly apparent that Sy’s faith in Holli would be rewarded. The placement of troops and obstacles blended together perfectly. The advantage rested squarely with the town’s defenders. As the number of fallen dwarves mounted, Enin could not find a single wounded human. As dwarves fell to the host of arrows and stones, they could not lay their hands upon the daring defenders. Ropes and ladders allowed ground troops to escape the wrath of this short-armed enemy. Dwarves were left grasping at air, cursing the humans and facing a hail of