Swordmage

TWENTY-SEVEN

11 Tarsakh, the Year of the Ageless One

The hour after moonset was the worst of the night. Somehow in the darkness the small mercenary contingents of House Marstel and the Double Moon Coster became separated from the rapidly diminishing army of Hulburg and simply vanished into the night. Kara sent her best scouts to find the missing detachments and lead them back to the Vale Road, but she dared not wait for their return. The Red Claw wolf riders snarled and darted at her army’s heels at every step, and behind them came the great mass of the Bloody Skull horde. Now that the Bloody Skulls were in the Vale, she had no real hope of stopping them short of Hulburg. All she could do was try to beat the horde to the town and pray that her battered and bloodied soldiers could hold the castles and the fortified merchant compounds. The orcs would tire of their sport and withdraw after a few days, leaving those lucky enough to find shelter behind strong walls and locked gates alive to rebuild… but if she allowed the wolf riders to surround her and bring her to bay, she would not even be able to manage that much. Without her soldiers, Griffonwatch and Daggergard would fall, and then nothing at all would be left of Hulburg.

“Stay together, stay in good order!” she called to the weary companies around her. “If you fall out of ranks, the wolf riders will have you! They can’t drag us down if we stay in ranks and keep to our places as we march!”

So many have fallen already, she thought dully. Kara was exhausted herself, bruised and nicked in a dozen places from the furious cavalry skirmishes of the last few hours, but she couldn’t allow her soldiers to see her flagging or giving in to despair. She wheeled Dancer around and patted the big mare’s neck, studying the dark vale behind her retreating army. Half a dozen fires blazed in the blackness where outlying farms and homesteads had already been overrun by bloodthirsty savages. There will be many more of those before sunrise, she told herself.

Her broken companies filed into a narrow cut where the road passed through a belt of beechwoods. She peered into the gloom, searching for danger. Her spellscar-changed eyes, so brilliant by daylight, shimmered with the greenish-blue radiance of glacier ice in darkness; she could see as well as a cat by night, a small consolation for the havoc the Spellplague had wreaked in her. The woods offered little as a place to make a stand, but she had to do something to keep the wolf riders away from her troops.

Kara tapped her heels to Dancer’s flanks and cantered over to the Icehammer company, her standard-bearer and her adjutants following her. The mercenaries trudged along in grim silence in the middle of her force. Kara reined in to walk alongside the rearmost ranks. “Where’s your captain?” she asked the dwarves there.

“I’m here, Lady Hulmaster.” The black-bearded dwarf Kendurkkel pushed his way through the marching files of his company. He carried a heavy crossbow over his shoulder and a battle axe with its haft thrust through his belt, but still he gripped his pipe between his teeth. “What d’you want?”

“We need to teach the goblins not to follow us too closely,” Kara said. “You’ve got crossbowmen among your company, and most of them are dwarves who can see in the dark better than the rest of us. I want you to set up a skirmish line here in these trees and greet the goblins with a volley or two when they follow us in here.”

“You’re wantin’ me lads t’take a turn at rearguard, you mean.” Kendurkkel frowned. “If those wolf riders go ’round the woods, they’ll catch us here neat as you please, and me poor mother won’t ever lay eyes on her foolish son agin’.”

“I’ll be waiting with all the riders we have left just on the other side of the woods,” Kara answered. “If the goblins go around you, we’ll hold them off and give you a chance to get clear.”

Kendurkkel looked up at her, taking her measure. “I don’t doubt you’ll do as you say, but this sort o’ extra work ain’t in me contract, Lady Hulmaster.”

Kara restrained a sudden impulse to simply ride the Icehammer captain down under her hooves and leaned over her pommel to fix her eyes on the dwarf’s face. She lowered her voice even further. “You may not have noticed, Captain, but this is now a question of survival, not contracts. If our hodgepodge army breaks apart in the next mile because the wolf riders cut us apart from behind, there’s an excellent chance that none of us will reach Hulburg alive. It’s in your own best interest to give the goblins a bloody nose or at least make them ride around the woods.”

The dwarf chewed on the stem of his pipe, staring coldly up at her. Then he sighed and said, “All right, Lady Hulmaster. We’ll do as you ask. This whole business is sourin’ fast anyway, so I s’pose we ain’t got much t’lose.” The dwarf turned away and shouted to his mercenaries. “Icehammers, off the road! We’re t’lay a little ambush right here for any goblins or worgs stupid ’nough t’ stick their heads in a noose.”

“Three good volleys are all we need,” Kara told him. She watched the Icehammers scramble into the woods on each side of the road and left Kendurkkel pointing with the stem of his pipe and barking orders to his men.

She cantered a couple of hundred yards farther on to the place where the road broke out into open fields again, and collected all the cavalry she had left-twoscore Shieldsworn and about twice that number of men and women called out from the various merchant contingents. She sent pickets out to each side to watch for wolf riders coming around the small belt of woods then settled down to wait. She would have preferred to stay close to the Icehammers, but it was simply too important to make sure that the hundred riders she had at this spot went in the right direction when the enemy appeared. She was afraid that the merchant armsmen would simply ride off for home if she didn’t remain to hold them in place.

One of the young Shieldsworn waiting next to her-Sarise, her standard-bearer-leaned close and asked softly, “M’lady, what’s going to become of us? What’ll be left of Hulburg when this’s all over?”

Kara felt the stillness of other riders nearby. They were listening for her answer too. She considered her words before answering. “Sarise, I don’t know,” she said. “But I know that our castles can shelter hundreds of people for a long time. Many others will escape by ship or by the coastal trails. I don’t think the orcs can take Griffonwatch without a long siege, and I doubt that they’ll have the patience for it. In time they’ll leave, and the town will be ours again. But for now, the longer we hold off the Bloody Skulls, the more of our people will live. It’s not what I would’ve hoped for, but it’s the best we can do.”

Sarise frowned, but she nodded. “Thank you, Lady Kara,” she said softly.

Kara started to say more, but the snarls and howls of wolves came to her ears from the dark woods behind her. Dancer snorted and shifted nervously as did the other horses; they knew that sound, and they didn’t like it. The ranger turned her mount and peered into the gloomy shadows beneath the trees. The woods weren’t thick, and she could glimpse a handful of the dwarves as they crouched and waited. “They’re coming through the woods,” she breathed. It was up to the Icehammers now.

She heard the snap and thrum of crossbows, then scores of them firing almost as one, followed an instant later by a great chorus of goblin shrieks and wolves yipping in pain. “Steady,” she told the riders around her. “We’ve got to cover the Icehammers when they break off their fight. Steady, everyone.”

More crossbows sang in the night, and the chorus of pained cries changed into the ugly, incoherent roar of battle-hundreds of voices shouting and screaming, some in pain, some in fear, some in anger, some in victory. The deep voices of dwarves, the high harsh cries of goblins, and the fury of worgs all blended in a long, rolling battle-thunder that seemed to echo from the steep hillsides cupping the Winterspear Vale. It went on and on, much longer than Kara would have imagined, until she found herself leaning forward in her saddle and peering into the woods to see if she could see anything of the fighting a short distance off. But after a time the shouts and ring of steel on steel faded again, and Icehammers began to trot out of the woods-human mercenaries groping through the darkness, dwarves jogging along with slower strides but a much better sense of where they were headed.

“Lady Kara, the pickets to the right say that there’re goblin scouts on the eastern edge o’ the woods,” one of her adjutants reported.

“Very well,” she answered. She hardly felt as calm as she tried to sound, but that was her duty, to act as if she had expected everything that had happened tonight. She looked at a Shieldsworn sergeant nearby. “Kars, take your troop and the Jannarsk men there, and go drive off the scouts. Keep them from coming around the woods for half an hour, and then rejoin the column. If there are too many wolf riders to handle, use your discretion, but make sure you send word to me.”

The sergeant touched his knuckle to his brow. “Yes, m’lady,” he said. He gathered eight of the remaining Shieldsworn and a dozen of the Jannarsk Coster armsmen, and the small band rode off into the night. Kara wondered whether she would see them again.

Dancer snorted and stamped suddenly, and Kara saw motion beneath the trees off to her right. The brush thrashed and an ugly chorus of snarls came to her ears, and then goblin wolf riders suddenly broke through the treeline, chasing after the Icehammers as the mercenaries fell back.

“Take them!” she shouted, standing in her stirrups with her bow in her hand. She drew and fired, drew and fired again, and a goblin and worg went down together, each with an arrow in the throat. Her remaining riders charged at the enormous wolves, lances lowered and sabers high. The overeager goblins wheeled in panic and bounded back for the safety of the woods, but not before more fell under the steel of the Shieldsworn and the House mercenaries. Kara shot one more worg through its spine as it leaped away; the monster howled and crashed into a blackberry thicket, throwing its rider. The goblin dismounted was not much of a threat-but worgs could drag down men or horses. She searched for another target but decided to save her arrows. She might need them more before the night was out.

Several other quick skirmishes broke out along the woodline as wolf riders blundered too close to the soldiers they were hoping to chase down. After a dozen slashing duels of wolf rider and cavalryman, the woods fell silent again. Kara judged that the Red Claws had fallen back to mass for a more deliberate attack; this would be the moment to pull back again. The Icehammers were already marching south off the field, falling into ranks as they hurried away. It’ll have to be enough, she told herself, praying that she’d bought her ragged army half an hour’s lead on the pitiless marauders who followed them.

“Fall back!” she called to the riders nearby. “Stay with me!”

Kara cantered a few hundred yards farther down the road, her small company of riders following her standard as best they could. Then she wheeled around again, searching the open space they’d just crossed for any sign of pursuit. If the Red Claws pressed too close, she’d have to lead her weary riders against them to give the Icehammers time to put another mile under their boots, but for the moment it seemed the wolf riders had learned a little caution.

“Lady Kara!” Sarise called. “A rider!”

Kara looked back over her shoulder and saw a strapping young man with the beginnings of a thick beard approaching-one of the Ostings, she thought. His horse was badly blown, trembling with exhaustion, and the young man slid out of the saddle as soon as he saw her. “Lady Kara, there you are! I’m Brun Osting, and I’ve got a message from the harmach himself. He told me to tell you to gather whatever forces you’ve still got and march at once for Lendon’s Dike. He’s bringing the Spearmeet up from Hulburg, and he plans to make the stand for the city there.”

“Lendon’s Dike?” Kara asked sharply. That didn’t seem wise to her. It was almost a mile and a half long. Between what was left of her battered army and the Spearmeet, they simply didn’t have the numbers to defend a line of that length. And she doubted that the Spearmeet could stand up to the Bloody Skulls for long, wall or no wall. “I don’t think we can hold it, even with the Spearmeet. We’d be better off to fall back to the strongpoints in town.”

“The harmach said you might say that. He said to tell you that he’s had to abandon Griffonwatch. Some sort o’ terrible ghostly warriors overran the castle earlier tonight, and they’re still there.” The tavernkeeper’s son looked around to see who was in earshot, and lowered his voice. “And House Veruna men were waitin’ outside to barricade the gates, Lady Kara. Many o’ the harmach’s folk were killed, but all your kin got out safe.”

Kara shook her head in denial. “This makes no sense. Ghosts in Griffonwatch and the Veruna soldiers barricading them in? Are you sure you’ve got this message straight from the harmach?”

“I saw ’em myself up on the battlements, Lady Kara.” Brun Osting shuddered. “Spirits o’ ancient warriors, carryin’ pale swords and wearin’ tall helms. The harmach said he knew it’d all sound like madness, but he wanted me to repeat this to you: You’ve got to bring your army to Lendon’s Dike as quick as you can. He’s going to stand and fight there. And he wanted you to watch your back ’round the Verunas.”

“That’s better than a fifth of my army,” Kara answered. How was she supposed to pay attention to the battle-no, the retreat-if she was supposed to be on guard against assassination or treachery too? She looked around to get her bearings in the darkened vale. They’d been fighting and falling back for hours, and with surprise she saw that they were about halfway to Hulburg already. The old earthworks were not more than a couple of miles ahead. They’d be able to reach the dike easily enough, but what then?” I’ve got to speak with him myself,” she said aloud. “Sarise, go find Captain Ironthane and tell him he’s got command of the rear guard until I return. Have Master Osting relay his report to the captain. I’m riding ahead.”

“It isn’t safe to ride alone, my lady,” one of her adjutants pointed out.

“Then you, and you, and you-come with me, if you can keep up.” Kara pointed at several of the Shieldsworn riders nearby and rode off over the darkened fields, cutting cross-country. The Vale Road was full of her soldiers, and she didn’t want them to think she was abandoning the field. She hoped that Kendurkkel wouldn’t think so, either, but so far the dwarf captain had quickly grasped her commands and intentions. He’d understand that she was not leaving them.

Kara led her small band through muddy fields thick with the stubble of last year’s planting, until they found an old lane between homesteads that more or less paralleled the Vale Road. She set her spurs to Dancer and let the big mare stretch out her legs on the road, while her guards hurried to keep up with her. The rush of cold night air drove away her weariness. After a good run, she saw a long, straight row of trees rising up across her path-the old berm, long since overgrown with thickets and young trees. Scores of torches and lanterns burned along its length. “It seems the Spearmeet’s already here,” she said to herself. She veered back toward the Vale Road and in a few more minutes of riding climbed back onto the road a short distance from the place where it cut through the embankment.

Dozens of men worked furiously to build thornbrakes across the road. Along the earthworks more Hulburgans worked with axe and hatchet to make the top of the dike defensible. Now that she was closer to the old berm, she saw that the trees and tangled briar-patches covering its slopes made it a more formidable obstacle than she remembered; the men and women of the Spearmeet were felling trees and piling up brush on the north face of the dike to improve it even more. If only she had more archers, she might have a chance to hold it-at least for a little while.

“There, m’lady,” one of her riders said to her. He pointed to an improvised banner fluttering in the torchlight, a simple white field with a blue blazon on it. “The harmach.”

“I see it,” Kara replied. She rode up to the simple banner, and there she found half a dozen Spearmeet captains gathered around Harmach Grigor, along with Master Assayer Dunstormad Goldhead, the Master Mage Ebain Ravenscar, her cousin Geran, and-surprisingly-the tiefling sorcerer Sarth she’d seen by the barrow on the Highfells. The world seems to have gone mad tonight, she thought. She leaped down from Dancer’s saddle and strode over to the harmach. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d left the city; he stood leaning on his cane, a thin cloak whipping around him in the bitter night.

“My lord Harmach,” she said formally. “I am here.”

Grigor Hulmaster looked around and found a crooked smile of relief. “Kara, I’m glad to see that you’re well,” he said. “I was afraid for you, my dear.”

“Brun Osting said I’m to bring my army here. We’re on our way. You should see my leading companies any time now, and my rear guard’s less than an hour off. But, Uncle Grigor-the Bloody Skulls won’t be far behind us. Are you sure this is where you want to stand?”

“It’s here or nowhere, Kara,” the harmach said. “Griffonwatch is taken. We have no castle to fall back to.”

Kara glanced at the other Hulburgans nearby and lowered her voice. “I heard that ghosts invaded Griffonwatch? Is that true?”

Harmach Grigor nodded. “I’m afraid that it is, and I’m sorry to say that it seems to be your stepbrother’s doing. He and his Veruna allies tried to kill us all tonight. If not for the fact that Geran and his friends took it upon themselves to arrange his escape from my prison and rescue me, I think Sergen would have succeeded.”

“That was the price the King in Copper paid for the Infiernadex after House Veruna got it for him,” Geran explained. “He agreed to send his specters to serve when called. It seems Sergen decided to call them tonight.”

“Given the circumstances, I’ve pardoned Geran of any wrongdoing in his duel with the Veruna captain and in his escape,” the harmach added. “And should we run across Sergen again, we must treat him and his Veruna allies as enemies of Hulburg.”

Kara lowered her voice. “The Verunas with my army have done their part so far tonight. They’ve fought as well as any of us. This makes no sense. Are you saying that they’ll turn on us at some point?”

“It’d be wise to expect them to,” Geran said. “They might be waiting for the right opportunity to show their true colors.”

The ranger laughed bitterly. “Geran, they’ve had many opportunities for treachery tonight. All they had to do was abandon the field, and we probably would’ve been destroyed three times over.”

Sarth cleared his throat. “Forgive me for saying so, but the explanation may be quite simple: Perhaps things have not gone as House Veruna planned tonight. After your initial defeat they may have decided that it would be folly to carry through with their plan in the face of an orc invasion.”

Kara frowned. She didn’t know how the horned man had come to be standing at Geran’s side, but she simply did not have time to satisfy her curiosity. With effort she set aside the questions still dancing in her mind and focused on the immediate crisis. “I’ll ask for a complete explanation later,” she said. “Uncle Grigor, I expect the Bloody Skulls to reach this spot in an hour, perhaps two. I would guess that I’m down to six hundred tired men-less if you tell me that the Verunas can’t be counted on. How many Spearmeet do you have with you?”

“Around eight hundred, I think,” Geran answered. “About half are here already, and the rest are marching up from Hulburg as quickly as they can.” She frowned dubiously. Geran saw her skepticism and added, “They’re not as good as your Shieldsworn or your mercenaries, but they’re fighting with their homes and families at their backs. They’ll do better than you might think, Kara.”

“I don’t think it will be enough,” Kara said. “The Bloody Skulls outnumber us by a margin of at least two to one, maybe closer to three to one.”

“We didn’t choose this fight, but it’s ours nonetheless,” Harmach Grigor told her. “Somehow, we have to find a way to win it. We simply have no alternative. Now, Kara, given what you’ve seen so far, what can we do to give ourselves the best chance for success?”

Kara looked at the old dike extending off into the darkness to either side. She noticed that a pale gray streak had appeared above the jagged shadows of the hills and peaks of the Highfells to the east. Dawn was not far off… if they lasted that long. She thought furiously, considering the problem from every angle while the others waited for her to organize her thoughts. “We’ll need to intersperse the Spearmeet and the professional soldiers,” she finally said. “Alternate a company of militia and a company of Shieldsworn or mercenaries to man the top of the dike. And then we’ll need to keep most of our cavalry together in reserve behind the dike, so that we can try to seal breaches in our line as they happen.”

“Good,” said Harmach Grigor. “What else, Kara?”

She studied the men and women swarming over the dike, and sighed. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to pray,” she said.