Fortress Draconis (77 page)

Read Fortress Draconis Online

Authors: Michael A. Stackpole

Tags: #Fantasy, #Science Fiction

Worse yet, the long dragonels on the Aurolani side of the field were being shifted. Dragoneers hitched them to frostclaws and pulled them to new positions, closer positions, laying them anew. Crews worked to aim the guns, then fire them, hurling iron balls against the stronghold. Dozens of dragonels got shifted closer for the attack, but they all selected the same target, blasting away at a vylaen’s command.

The Aurolani fire slammed into the stronghold. Many balls—most of them, in fact—skipped high off the sloped walls, but each pulverized a little crater into the previously smooth surface. Some snapped off spikes, others clipped the top to rattle around inside the small fortress. A few, a precious few, however, shattered the casements around a dragonel and one even struck metal. The ball knocked the dragonel askew, crushing one crewman and scattering shot.

The lost dragonel meant less metal flew at the advancing troops. Again and again, the Aurolani dragonels hammered Draconis dragonels. The stronghold’s dragoneers shifted their aim to fire back, knocking out one or two, but by that point the gibberers were already laying ladders to walls and beginning to swarm up.

Defenders mounted the walls and skycasters sent thunderballs among them. The Aurolani didn’t seem to mind that the occasional misdirected shot blasted a hole in their own formation, since the majority fell true. Grey-clad defenders reeled away as thunderballs burst in the air. Others thrust with spears at gibberers, or tried to pry their ladders off the stronghold’s walls, but the mottled fungus of gibberers clung stubbornly and climbed ever higher.

At least one dragonel fired into the gibberers climbing in through the fireport, blasting bits and pieces of them out over their fellows. Others continued in over the goreslicked stones. The other strongholds and Fortress Draconis itself shifted battery aim to pound the walls, scraping gibberers off, but never enough, never quickly enough.

Alyx looked over at Crow. “The stronghold is lost.”

He nodded, suddenly looking far older and more weary. “With its loss, the other strongholds are weaker. We’ve not enough dragonels to hold off those masses of troops. When she said her invasion had been premature twenty-five years ago, she was right, because if she had come with these numbers then, she would have won, dragonels or no.”

Will brushed theAraftü feather on his mask back away from his nose. “And Chytrine hasn’t even used her dragon.”

“No, she hasn’t.” Crow raked fingers through his beard. “Either she suspects Cavarre might yet have a way to deal with a dragon, or she wants to suggest the fortress is beneath its efforts. Either way, I’m glad it’s not being used.”

“Hardly matters, does it?” Alyx looked out over the battlefield. The firing from the eastern stronghold had ceased, and gibberers danced jubilantly on top of the wall. The occasional shot from the fortress skipped through them, but had no material effect. As the smoke began to clear, the true shape of things became apparent because Chytrine’s host had barely been decimated in taking the stronghold. Already dragonels and legions shifted north and west to drive at the stronghold there.

She sighed. “We just can’t kill them fast enough.”

Will shrugged. “Taking a stronghold isn’t going to be as tough as taking the fortress. I’m betting we can stop them.”

“I know that wemust stop them, but I’d not bet on it.” Alyx gave him a bit of a smile. “It’s a bet that will be paid with your life.”

“Ever since Crow and Resolute found me, my life’s been the ante.” Will thrust a finger toward Chytrine’s pavilion. “She’s been trying to win it for a long time, and we’ll just have to make sure it takes even longer. Whatever it takes, we’ll do.”

The northeastern stronghold had fallen shortly after dark. The backflashes of dragonels on both sides had split the night with hellish red light, providing glimpses of shattered bodies, troops splashing through blood-puddles, and a writhing mass of gibberers crawling up over the stronghold’s walls. Alexia watched until her eyes burned, happy that smoke and fatigue blinded her at the end.

Not even the ringing blasts of the dragonels and thunderballs could deafen her to the screams of the dying. As darkness fell and fires arose in the enemy camp, she retreated to the Crown Tower. She could not bring herself to count the fires over there. Even the most conservative of estimates represented a force Fortress Draconis could not resist.

Sleep came quickly and ended cleanly, though the way the sheets had tangled around her legs showed it had not been an easy night. Part of her had hoped to visit the Dragon Society that evening, so she could seek counsel. She wasn’t certain if the way was blocked to her by magick, or if she hadn’t sufficient need to be able to travel there. She hoped for the former, and dreaded the latter.

When she awoke, she found more to dread. She avoided breakfast and went immediately to the walls. All signs of the previous day’s conflict could be seen despite the low fog swirling over the battlefield. Shambling forms moved through the mist in the distance, halting and jerking oddly, but all drifting toward the Aurolani position. Up at the nearest stronghold, bodies were being slid down the walls. Spikes caught them and spun them all loose-limbed like rag dolls. They finally sloughed off the stone surface and lay in heaps.

She couldn’t figure out why the gibberers were casting their own dead out until a shining figure, a slender slip of a woman, emerged from the stronghold’s far side. Alexia immediately recognized her as Myrall’mara, thesullanciri who had been a Vorquelf. As the luminous female bent down and caressed a gibberer body, it jerked to life and stood, though it had one arm missing. She touched another body and it clawed its way up despite having lost both its right arm and leg. Magick blazed crimson from thesullan-cirfe right hand. The empty arm socket of the undead gibberer melded with that of the other, forming a three-legged, two-headed monster that awkwardly stumped its way back across the battlefield to the Aurolani camp.

As if in answer to Alyx’s unvoiced question, one of the Draconis dragonels roared. It had been aimed well and filled with scatter-shot—a good twenty-four pounds of iron balls the size of an egg yolk. The metal hail ripped through the reanimated gibber-thing, vaporizing its skulls, splintering limbs, and shredding its pelt. Gobbets of its hide and flesh splashed over the stronghold walls and slowly slid down.

The blast had caught Myrall’mara as well, spinning her around and smashing her flat against the stronghold’s pitted surface. One ball had opened her skull, leaving a chunk of it hanging down over her left ear, fastened only by a strip of scalp. Her left eye rested on her cheek. Several balls had pierced her torso and her left thigh had been opened and her femur cracked.

Thesullanciri scooped a handful of brain tissue from her shoulder and packed it back into her head, then snapped the skull back together. The designs on her pale flesh blazed silver, hiding her for a moment in an iridescent cloud of fog. As the light faded, she stood, unblemished. She clutched at her stomach and doubled over, then vomited blood and the shot her body had absorbed.

The princess shivered. Not only could they not kill Chytrine’s living troops fast enough, those that were not chopped down into tiny bits could be recovered. Alexia didn’t imagine that the reanimated troops would be good for much in the way of tactical maneuvering, but that had never been an Aurolani strength. The undead would be a slow, mobile shield for the living troops, requiring their destruction all over again.

A messenger arrived and conducted her back to the Crown Tower. He led her to a large room full of book-lined shelves. The Draconis Baron and his wife were there, along with Prince Erlestoke and the rest of her companions. Kerrigan, whom she had not seen since their arrival, looked as haggard and unrested as the others.

Dothan Cavarre waved her to a chair in the front of her seated companions. “Last night, Chytrine conveyed a message here byAraftü” He nodded toward an unfolded document on the desk behind him. “It mocks our offer to let them retreat in honor of my wife’s birthday. She is willing, in honor of the nation of Ryhope’s birth, to allow all noncombatants and people of Oriosa free passage to the south, and safe conduct to their homeland.”

Alyx shook her head. “That makes no sense at all.”

Cavarre arched a pale eyebrow. “Actually it is quite shrewd. It instantly confers on Oriosa some sort of favored-nation status, which others will resent, thereby making the alliance to oppose her weaker. Moreover, it suggests that she is capable of leniency and even charity, which will prompt some to negotiate their own peace with her. And this is if she chooses to keep her word and let you go.”

Will laughed aloud. “If you think she’d let us get away free, you’re insane.”

The Draconis Baron inclined his head slightly to the right. “I doubtlessly am, but I should like to avail myself of her generosity.”

His wife clutched his shoulder. “I’m not leaving you. I’m not taking our children away from here.”

He raised a hand and patted hers. “You must, beloved, for if you do not, no one else will leave. I would not have you go away, for I have no desire at all to see you slain; but I desire even less having my troops see their families slain. I need you to be an example of brave sacrifice, my dear, so others can do what is right.

“You will recall that Chytrine prophesied that when she came again, the children of that day would not see their own offspring mature. The children of that day are my warriors today, and I would thwart her prediction.”

Ryhope looked down and said nothing, but a tear traced its way along her cheek and hung at her chin for a moment before she turned away.

Alexia narrowed her eyes. “You have called us here for what reason?”

“I want you to lead the expedition south.”

Will shook his head adamantly. “No, no way. You know the prophecy. I’m the one that beats her. I go away and you can’t win.”

Cavarre raised a hand to stop Will. “Your understanding of things is far too shallow, Will Norrington. The prophecy refers to the war, not one battle or another. Perhaps by leaving here you will be preserved for a greater victory.”

The thief snarled. “I keep hearing this ‘perhaps’ over and over again. ’Perhaps’ I have helped stop her by giving the lump there the Lakaslin fragment. ‘Perhaps’ I’ve helped by taking this mask or by being at Vilwan. I’m done with perhapses. I want her done, and done here and done now. I’m sick of this perhapsing.”

“Noted, Will Norrington.” The Draconis Baron looked up, tapped his right index finger near his right eye twice, then gathered that hand into a fist. “It must be clearly seen by others that your retreat is the only course open, the vital course.”

Alyx opened her hands. “It’s laudable to evacuate the noncombatants, the children, but you don’t need us to do it. You’ve got competent troops, and Prince Erlestoke can lead them.”

The Oriosan prince, who stood deeper in the room than Cavarre, turned from the window. He had his arms tightly crossed over his chest. “I’m not going. I’m staying here. I must.”

Cavarre never even looked back over his shoulder at him. “And if I ask you to safeguard your aunt and your cousins?”

“I would entrust them to Alexia and the troops we will send back. Colonel Hawkins will see to her safety. And while I might be able to replace him there, he can’t replace me here. You’ve trained me too well to let me go.”

“And if I order all Oriosans to go?”

Erlestoke laughed. “I’ll throw away my mask and become an anonymous soldier. I’m not going, and that is final.”

Alyx nodded. “I agree, fully. Let me be an anonymous soldier, too. This idea of sending people south is folly. You know she will have to assume we are smuggling DragonCrown fragments away, so she has to attack us.”

Cavarre smiled. “She will want to assume that, but she also knows it is impossible to do. The dragon is here, in part, because he has a sense for these things. Were even one to move south with you, she would know more than some and even her vylaens would know.”

Kerrigan raised a hand nervously. “But moving the innocent out, um, we know she has killed children before. It’s fine that you say you want your soldiers to know their children are away, but what if she just captures everyone, makes them into hostages? How will your men fight then?”

“No less hard than they would fight were their kin here.”

“But you would leave them feeling helpless if they knew their loved ones had been slain because they were away from their protection.” Alyx shook her head. “No, this doesn’t make any sense at all.”

“Actually, it does.” Crow stood and stepped forward. “I think Cavarre is right, we have to lead them south. We’ve all seen what Chytrine did yesterday. We know what sort of havoc her weapons can wreak, and Fortress Draconis is well suited to opposing her. Can you imagine how quickly the castles and keeps to the south will fall to her weapons? Conventional tactics won’t work against her, and unless we can warn the south about what is coming, the sacrifices here will be for naught.

“And, Princess, I thinkyou have to be the one to lead the expedition. Not only will you be believed, but you have the best chance of being able to formulate strategies to deal with the nature of her thrust.”

Will shot from his chair. “I can’t believe this. Crow, you’re running from a fight? Resolute, you’re not going to go. You’ll stay and fight, right? I’ll be there right beside you.”

Resolute shook his head. “I go south with the expedition.”

“What?” The thief looked aghast at him. “How can you… ? Why?”

The Vorquelf snarled and stabbed a finger at Will. “It’s your fault. My preference would be to stay here, but now I can’t. Crow, find me when we’re to leave.” .

Resolute stood abruptly, disentangled his sword from the legs of his chair, then stalked out. Will, his face red with anger, darted after him. The others watched them go. Alyx looked from them to Crow and tried to read his face.

“You really think we have to lead them out of here?”

He nodded solemnly.

Alyx looked at Cavarre. “We won’t have enough horses for everyone, so we’ll be moving very slowly.”

Other books

Diane Arbus by Patricia Bosworth
Pirate's Promise by Clyde Robert Bulla
Caroline's Daughters by Alice Adams
The Millionaire Rogue by Jessica Peterson
Hearts Under Siege by Natalie J. Damschroder
Guardian Angel by Abbie Zanders
Punto crítico by Michael Crichton