Samual (49 page)

Riding through the forests in the rain and fog was far from a pleasant experience, though Tyla didn't seem to mind. Sam though was tired of the wet and the cold, even though he knew the weather protected him. But he would truly have welcomed some sunshine. The last of winter was still with them and the cold and wet was the last thing he wanted as he rode into battle. In fact after a week of this, he would have given away everything he owned just to enjoy a couple of hours of blue skies and sunshine.

But it wasn't to be and he knew that it was for the best. They were riding into battle, and he knew they had to be close to their destination. They had ridden hard to get here and in a week and a half of riding an army could travel a lot of leagues.

The Bronze Mountains he thought couldn't be many more leagues ahead. Of course when they got there the battle would begin. Maybe a little rain and fog wasn't such a terrible thing after all.

“Spider.” The soft call came from just in front of Sam, startling him, and it was a few heartbeats before he realised the intent. It was a warning and he cursed the elves for their soft voices. Often their warnings were no more than murmurs in the background, and if he wasn't paying attention he could miss them altogether over the noise of the rain and hoof beats.

Still he did his part, pulling on the reins to stop Tyla in her tracks, while Forellin, the youngest master of earth magic, drew alongside him with his great bow in hand. And what a bow it was – nearly as tall as a man standing and bursting with magic. It took all of the forty something year old elf's strength to pull back the cord and release the arrow, and yet despite that and the fog, he was deadly accurate. More importantly, he was a powerful mage and the arrow that he fired would completely destroy a spider, or even a drake should it happen to be on the ground.

Its stone tip was magically hardened until it was stronger than the best steel – far stronger. It would pierce even the steel sides of the massive spiders. But the real genius lay in the metal shaft just behind the head, which would explode on impact, tearing the steel beast apart. Before they'd left, Sam had enchanted over two hundred of the arrows under Master Forellin's watchful eye, each at least four feet long, and Aegis who proudly carried the master and the arrows looked as though a giant porcupine had attacked her. Still, she could bear the weight of the elf and his oversized quivers with ease where other horses would have struggled.

It was an odd thing he thought, but the strength of the force they'd brought to the rescue to the hillmen and the dwarves was far stronger for being diverse than he would have expected. Forellin and the arrows were merely the beginning of that strength.

Further back in the party, nearly a third of a league behind them, the weather mages were creating the constant mist and fog that hid the party's approach from the steel vermin, and coincidentally grounded the drakes. That was an unexpected blessing. Until now, no one had realised the beasts couldn't fly in the rain, and Forellin's arrows had already turned nearly two dozen of them into piles of smouldering steel rubbish along with at least fifty of the spiders as they sat there like wounded rabbits.

There was no doubt the enemy had noticed their approach, but given that all his machina they had encountered had been destroyed, he could have no real idea who they were or exactly where they were coming from. His rats which he'd sent out in droves to search and destroy, were also disappearing by the hundreds as the elves' long bows were taking a deadly toll on them. On the rats they were using slightly different arrows. These ones just had hardened heads. But that was enough. They might not destroy a spider or a drake, but the smaller rats were no match for them.

Meanwhile the hillmen, armed with their own short bows, were riding horses which had all been gifted with extra stamina and speed by the nature mages. They too were cutting a mean swathe through the outer patrols of the machina as they attacked and ran, pulling the enemy forces in every direction as they tried to give chase and failed. The rats and spiders were too slow to catch them, the drakes and balloons were grounded, and the hillmen's arrows destroyed them as they too were hardened. The end result was that the enemy forces were in chaos, as their master gave into his every vicious impulse and chased every attacking party without realising it was a fool's move. One thing was certain; he was no military man. He was like an angry giant swatting at flies, never realising he was just wasting his own strength.

Their real weapon though was being readied by the dwarves even now as they approached to within range of the army. During the week and a half that they had ridden here, the dwarves had been building, their own war machines. Giant trebuchets which were mounted on some of the spare wagons the elves had had left over, and which were being pulled by the incredibly strong war horses of Fair Fields. Each night when they stopped the dwarves went to work, and each morning the giant war machines were taller and heavier.

Sam would have preferred it if they could have brought cannon with them, but the dwarves had none with them and the elves would never have tolerated such weapons at all. They didn't have a foundry either. The only cannon there were, were all in the city itself. So they were having to fall back on weapons they could make without a foundry. Still, the war machines were powerful weapons and the dwarves were impossibly quick builders. It helped that their numbers were being boosted as they took a path through some of the dwarven outposts, but even so the progress was amazing.

And the war masters had come up with a plan of attack that was inspired. One that used all their different strengths. The plan was that while the hillmen used their speed to keep the steel army busy and the elves wiped out their scouts and hunting parties, the dwarves would be setting up the score of war machines on the ridges surrounding the enemy encampment. With an expected range of six to eight hundred yards thanks to yet more magic and the surprisingly small size of the stones they would fire, they would rain down death upon the steel army, while Sam and the other elves would become the final assault force, should they be needed.

Somehow, he didn't think they would. The steel army encampment when the dwarves and hillmen had escaped had been around ten thousand strong, all of them simply sitting there, waiting their turn to enter the tunnels and attack the underground city. Hopefully that wouldn't have changed. And they had five thousand elves armed with longbows if it did. Before that happened though the enchanted stones the dwarves would fire into their massed troops would take a devastating toll on the machina. They were some of his best work, and he had spent each evening simply imbuing the stones with the chained fire spells the elders had encouraged him to study. It was simply incredible how much fire he'd been able to enchant into each rock. The earth mages had found and quarried only the best rocks for ammunition, and each of the fifty pound rocks held at least ten times as much magic as each sword or axe he carried. Sam was looking forward to seeing them on the battlefield.

Of course, the real battle would come later. Because there would be two battles, not one. Once they had destroyed the machina on the surface, they would have to go below and attack the rats underground, something that Sam was less confident of. On the surface, the enemy was a sitting duck, even if the Dragon didn't realise it. Underground, the steel rats would have an advantage. Several advantages. Darkness to hide in. Narrow twisting passageways which would limit the effectiveness of long bows. And perhaps numbers too.

A bird whistle stopped his thoughts in their tracks, as he realised it was time to put another steel monster into the ground. For a moment he stopped even breathing as he waited. Then he realised the sound was an owl's hoot. That meant it was time to put two of the beasts away.

It was hard for him to just sit there and let another take the battle to the enemy when every stretched nerve in his body was telling him to rush forward and attack, though as a soldier he knew it was the right thing to do. It was made that much harder because he could see nothing ahead. The forest was heavy and the fog thick. In fact in places it was so thick that he wondered how Forellin could even see his target fifty paces ahead. Especially in the fog. And yet he did. Perfectly.

As had happened dozens of times already, he heard the sudden twanging of a bow, followed a heartbeat later by a gigantic explosion which shook the trees all around them and sent a wave of glorious yellow and orange fire soaring high into the grey skies above them, almost like a sunset. Two more heartbeats passed and then a second explosion rocked the forest around them, and the already golden skies brightened once more. Two more spiders or drakes down.

After that it was simply a matter of waiting, and Sam like the rest of the elves sat there, nervously twiddling his thumbs and listening for the all clear. It would be a while he knew. Two large steel beasts had been destroyed, but that didn't mean that there might not be more around. Also, it was possible that others might be drawn closer by the noise of the explosions. And then of course there were the rats. They were sneaky little things and loved to pounce on the unwary. But the elves were wary. More importantly, they were prepared.

The rats would quickly hone in on the noise of their larger brethren being destroyed, but they would be met with hardened arrows as well. Probably another two or three dozen rats would end up as lumps of scrap metal in the next half hour or so, and then the party would move on while the rats' master hopefully had another fit of uncontrolled rage.

Best of all though, the Dragon would never realise that as he hunted them, the dwarves were moving their war machines into range, preparing for a massive counter attack. And when they struck Sam hoped the new Dragon would learn a lesson in humility. Thus far he'd won through thanks to his numbers and attacking those not ready for him. This would be the campaign where his forces were finally crushed. Where he learned that he wasn't as powerful as he thought.

With a little luck maybe he would die of a heart attack as he understood how badly he'd been outplayed. Maybe he'd even choke to death on his own bile.

Now that was a thought to enjoy Sam thought as he waited for the all clear to sound.

Dawn was approaching when everyone was finally in position and ready for the attack. The black sky was just beginning to turn blue. Soon Sam knew it would be glowing orange with fire as the machina burnt.

And there were a lot of machina to burn. That was the thing that Sam couldn't quite believe. But in front of him, or in the valley just below, there were so many rats and spiders and other steel machina that they filled the valley floor. Sam couldn't understand it. The ships had stopped sailing. And the balloons as large as they were, could only carry a few machina at a time. But as he had been told, there were at least ten thousand machina sitting on the grass.  Possibly a great many more than that now. They were all just sitting there, calmly waiting to enter the caverns of the Bronze Mountain Clan as soon as their steel comrades were destroyed and needed to be replaced.

The dwarves and hillmen had told them of the numbers to expect, and the soldier part of him had heard the words and planned for them. But he'd still never seen an army of that size before. Battles in Fair Fields were mostly skirmishes. Small forces attacking one another, maybe raiding a village of a neighbouring lord. This was different.

It was a sea of steel and glowing red eyes. With this many above ground Sam wondered how many they would find below. 

How were there so many? And why? It was the second question even more than the first that troubled him. Because it suggested to the soldier in him that this wasn't just a simple attack. An extermination. Instead it could become a base. Once he had claimed it, the Dragon could use it as a place where he could build up his forces in safety, and then periodically send them out army by army to conquer the surrounding lands. He no longer had ships and ports, but he might perhaps have a beach head regardless.

Sam had to keep reminding himself that this was a new Dragon and not the old one. He would not use the same tactics and strategy as those in their history books. And though he had a temper problem, he was still learning how to wage a war with the forces he had. Sam had to stop underestimating him.

Whatever the Dragon's plans for the Bronze Mountains were one thing seemed clear: He truly wanted the dwarven home. Because it looked like he was committing everything he had to the battle. Which perversely meant that if he lost here, his plans would be hurt. That was something Sam could hope for. And despite the enemy's numbers Sam thought they still had the advantage.

Still, he was nervous. He was always nervous before riding into a battle. But this was a battle far larger than any he'd ever been a part of before and a lot of lives were at risk. Normally as a knight he'd faced just a few enemies at a time, maybe a party of brigands. And then he'd have his brothers with him. Men who he'd stood beside and fought with a hundred times before. Losses and injuries had been few. Victories had been normal as they were better armed, trained and prepared than their foes. As an exile he'd faced one or two would be assassins on his own. But even then he'd been stronger and it had only been his own life at risk.

He kept thinking that this would be the perfect chance to use his fire ring. Simply draw his fire, everything he could, ride out alone into the heart of the enemy, and unleash it. But he couldn't. Even if the shadelings would have forgiven him and the rest could have got far enough away, there was an obvious problem. He would be seen. The machina were unaffected by spells of invisibility and illusion. Once again the magic of the Fire Angel was being shown to be useless. He was beginning to wonder what the point of having such power even was.

So here they had to use strategy and tactics. They had to fight according to a plan. And they had to hope it was enough. But this was different to anything any of them had ever been involved in. No war master in a thousand years had fought a battle like this. Not one of this scale. This was a major campaign. There were many thousands of rats and other machina pitted against thousands of soldiers. It could all go horribly wrong and in a hundred different ways.  And if it did there was little he could do about it. He only hoped that they were prepared for whatever happened.

Just then a horn sounded in the still air and it was too late to worry. A heartbeat later a score of war machines sprang into life and he watched as the first group of the enchanted missiles sailed up high into the air before beginning their glorious descent into the army of machina.

He watched them hit and then heard the explosions as his enchantments of chained fire ripped out through the machina. It was glorious. The entire valley seemed to come alive with fire. Orange flames leapt like birds given flight into the air, and a whole valley of steel and red eyes rippled like waves in an ocean squall.

It was a devastating strike, and the machina would have felt it – if they felt anything – and Sam started screaming with triumph just like everyone else did. He was almost willing to imagine that the battle was over. But of course it wasn't. Their score of war machines had destroyed maybe two or three hundred of the steel beasts. But there were thousands of them. And worst of all the trebuchet took time to reload.

He could see the dwarves working furiously as they wound the levers and wheels back, pulling the giant swinging arms back down. And as the flames cleared below he could see the machina still sitting there in their somewhat disorganised rows, waiting for instructions. Sam knew that this was the moment they had worried about. The moment when the machina struck back. Because by now the Dragon knew his army had been attacked. He would be looking for the attackers.

Before that could happen though a squall hit as the wind and mist arrived from out of nowhere to cover the entire battlefield. The weather mages were making sure the machina were blind. They'd needed to be able to see to find the range and position of the machina for their war machines, but from here on out, everyone had to be blind. That way as their master stared through the eyes of his creations he would see nothing but fog, and he wouldn't know what was happening as his army was destroyed. He would know it was an attack, but he wouldn't know from which direction it was coming. He wouldn't know which way to send his army.

Of course they were blind too.

It seemed to work. And as time passed painfully slowly, Sam saw no sign of any of the machina emerging from the fog as they charged towards them. Finally though, he heard the twangs as more of the rocks took to the sky and flew down into their enemy's midst in the valley below. He heard the explosions as they hit. And he saw the flashes of orange fire below as the entire valley seemed to glow with fire. It would have actually been quite beautiful if he hadn't have known the danger.

It was then that he finally heard the machina, or more accurately their master, yelling in fury. The sound that wasn't a sound, just an understanding inside his head, spoke of his rage and confusion. It was clear that he didn't know what was happening. Still, he was demanding that the steel beasts go out and destroy their enemies. He just had no idea where to send them and the machina had to have a target or a direction. They couldn't charge their enemies if they didn't know which direction to charge. Which left them still sitting there with nowhere to go while their master screamed and yelled at them like a petulant child.

For what seemed like ages, things continued like that. The war machines continued to send their deadly missiles down into the valley below, and the machina exploded in great balls of orange fire that lit up the mist. Until finally the Dragon thought about the problem and gave the only order he could. He told them to charge – in all directions.

That was Sam's cue – he was the only one who could hear the Dragon speaking with his steel beasts and so the only one who would know what he was planning. Sam stood up tall, reached for his horn and blew three quick blasts on it to tell everyone that the enemy was coming.

Immediately thousands of soldiers – elves one and all – took up positions between the war machines and the enemy, and stood ready with longbows in hand. When the machina broke through the fog, they would not last long. Not against the arrows with their especially hardened heads. Sam joined them, crossbow in hand. One day he'd master the longbow, but not this day.

Then the first of the machina emerged from the fog fifty or a hundred paces in front of him, and instantly exploded as an arrow caught it.

After that the battle was joined. The machina emerged in numbers from the fog, and the archers took them down almost as quickly as they showed themselves. Meanwhile the war machines continued their assault, though Sam had no idea what if anything they hit. The spiders started spitting their own fire back at them. It wasn't aimed – they were firing from inside the fog at enemies they couldn't see – but it was still too accurate.

Men screamed in fear and pain. He saw some in the distance fall and burn and he even saw one of the war machines catch fire. A towering pyre that seemed to set the fog ablaze. But he had no way of knowing how many of their own were dying that day, nor how many machina were being destroyed. These were his brothers in arms, living, fighting and dying, and he could do nothing to help them save what he already was. He felt so helpless. But the soldiers nearer to him kept firing and the machina kept exploding, none of them reaching their lines, and he did the same. That had to be enough for him.

For what felt like an age that continued to be the shape of the battle, and Sam almost dared to believe that they were winning. Surely thousands of the steel beasts had been destroyed. How many more could there be? But then the Dragon struck back with a new tactic and Sam knew things had just taken a turn for the worse.

The first he knew of it was when he saw the silver and black silk of a balloon rising above the endless mist, a ball of glowing light lit by the fire that heated the air in it, and for a moment it meant nothing to him. Until he realised that the Dragon was trying to see where they were. The moment he did that he could send all his machina straight at them as one organised army.

Sam hurled a fire ball at it, the only magic he had that could span the distance between them, and it hit turning the glowing orb into a fireball. But even as the silver balloon started falling in flames, he didn't know if he'd been quick enough. And he knew that even if he had been, the Dragon would try again. He had to stand ready for when that happened.

The battle intensified after that, with more and more of the machina emerging from the fog to charge their lines, and more balls of fire blasting at them from out of the fog as well. But though more men fell, the elves were up to the task, and they kept the machina back from their lines.

In time the machina became a line of burning steel bodies, as high as a wall and as deep as a house, and Sam began to worry that the flames would spread through the trees and drive them back even when the machina couldn't. But there was nothing to be done about it. They would just have to face that problem if and when it happened. Until then it would hamper the rest of the machina from reaching them just as it stopped them from destroying them as they once had. The destroyed machina had become a barricade for both sides.

Then the first of the steel drakes appeared in the sky and Sam knew they had more problems. Fortunately the weather mages spotted them quickly and started hitting them with unstable air, causing them to fly erratically. Unfortunately that meant they were no longer controlling the fog and it quickly began dissipating. Soon it was thin enough that he could see through it and past the piles of flaming steel beasts to the rest of the army of machina, and he knew things weren't good.

There had to be at least a few thousand steel beasts remaining. Worse still, the beasts could see them. They were coming from all directions. Running for them.

Sam started launching fireballs at them, destroying as many as he could, but they were so spread out that he couldn't get as many as he wanted. Someone else laid down a storm of lightning with similar results. And the archers continued to take a heavy toll on any of them that came within range. But the spiders were more dangerous once they knew where to aim, and Sam heard many more of his brothers in arms crying out as they were hit. To add to their woes more war machines were being taken out. Whatever remained of the enemy in the valley below – and it was hard to be certain across the distance and through the remaining mist and black smoke – would soon be safe from their attack.

Then as he'd known it always did, the battle started to close in. Sam was less able to pay any attention to the wider battle as he had to focus on the rats charging towards him and those nearer to him. They were getting closer, bursting through the barricade of their burning steel comrades, and charging their lines, while the spiders' fireballs kept hitting the ground all around them.