The Dreaddrac Onslaught (Book 4) (7 page)

About an hour after midnight, just as she was about to doze off, Earwig spotted the ghoul as it emerged from the trees. It crept forward, hesitant, surveying the camp, and spotted Dreg, asleep under his thin, tattered blanket.

It’s focused on Dreg. I sure hope the ghoul will decide the corpse can wait another day. Dreg is just too delicious a temptation. I’ll just cast a little spell on the ghoul to dispel his fears. It should draw him into the camp so he can eat Dreg and shut him up. Earwig tingled, casting the spell. How exhilarating, she thought. I’ve not cast a good spell since Magnosious died. This experience revives my spirits like nothing else. I can feel the energy pulse, chanting the spell.

Her enthusiasm caused her to instill greater energy in the incantation than was necessary. The ghoul was about to pounce on Dreg, asleep under another spell, when the creature looked over toward Earwig, sniffing the air, searching for something.

It must’ve felt my energy surge. He didn’t noticed me before, but now I’ve drawn him too me. That stupid ghoul, he’s forgotten Dreg, sleeping right there beside him. She hunkered down as best she could.

The drooling ghoul turned and shuffled his feet, moving toward Earwig. Its foul decaying eyes suddenly opened wide. It seemed to smile almost romantically at Earwig. The look gave her goose pimples when she recognized its intent.

“Fool!” Earwig said, throwing off her blanket. “That was a love potion spell!” Earwig groaned and wheezed, struggling to get up as fast as her rickety old bones would allow. She broke into the closest thing to a run her terror could inspire. Waddling away, she mumbled curses on herself for her carelessness.

The ghoul, being revived from the dead, moved with a shuffle, but a passionate smile showed amid his decomposing face.

“It’s excited!” she mumbled over her shoulder. It thinks I’m playing hard to get! The smile and bedroom eyes on the ghoul terrified her. She stumbled forward as best she could. Though neither moved fast, they were both clearly responding to strong emotions, lust, and horror.

“Dreg! Dreg, you idiot! Wake up, Dreg!” the witch screamed. The lusty dead thing is gaining on me, she thought. That stupid halfwit is silent at last and no power I can exert will wake him.

Earwig and the ghoul shuffled in circles around the camp until near dawn. Numerous times the ghoul almost caught the exhausted witch, but the prospect of consummating the lust of a corpse shot adrenalin through her, and she bolted ahead each time. With the light of day, the ghoul was forced to retire to the thicket’s darkness and abandon his beloved until night fell again, and the moon could caress the two of them. As the ghoul withdrew with the dawn, the sun’s rays dissolved Dreg sleeping spell. He awoke visibly refreshed, stretching his arms in welcome to the day.

“That’s the best night’s sleep I’ve had in months,” Dreg said. He chattered away, while fixing them something to eat. He failed to notice the murderous look Earwig made no attempt to hide. She sat on the log, exhausted, yet smashing a large stick against the log she sat on. Following the meal, Dreg packed up and ‘encouraged’ Zendor to drag the cart further up the road toward Dreaddrac, while Earwig just stared at her helper.

As dusk fell, Earwig repeatedly looked back down the road, fidgeting on the seat. We’re not far enough from the lovesick ghoul for me to feel safe, she thought.

“I guess it’s time to make camp,” Dreg said.

“NO! Beat Zendor unmercifully. Make him hurry,” Earwig insisted, trying to grab the whip.

Dreg wouldn’t hear of it and snatched the whip away from her reach. They made camp and after eating, Dreg went to sleep.

All that night Earwig sat up with her spell book in her lap in case the ghoul found them. I don’t dare cast a hex now without checking every syllable in the book, she thought. Her fingers fumbled with the page corners though the book was open to the correct spell page on her lap.

He’s under my sleeping spell. He can’t hear me. She was so tired from no sleep for two and a half days, she fell asleep at dawn. Dreg let her rest. Neither saw the sad pair of faint eyes just before dawn that peered at them from the darkest part of the nearby woods.

Saxthor hurried through Helshian Court Palace to Princess Dagmar’s suite in the palace’s eastern wing. He hesitated before the intricately carved mahogany door then knocked and entered when she responded. The large room was warmed by a delicately carved elfin fireplace, where coals glowed peacefully. Opposite the door was the rooms focal point, it’s massive but delicately carved bed, also elfin inspired. The carved trees at the corners spread vaulted branches that intertwined at the top supporting sheer, pale blue pleated bed curtains still rippling. Dagmar had just drawn her robe over her delicate gown and stepped forward away from the bed to receive Saxthor. The slight blush on her face revealed a tinge of embarrassment at receiving Saxthor in her private quarters, scantily attired. 

“I’ve received dispatches from Sengenwha,” Saxthor said, holding out the parchment. He blushed too, momentarily, then quickly pretended not to notice. “Your uncle, the grand duke, has stabilized the northern border with Prertsten. That cuts off the invading forces on the southern border and prevents reinforcement.” Saxthor looked up at Dagmar, who clasped her hands together. “Also, Calamidese has now laid siege to Sengenwhapolis. If he can retake the capital, the orc contingents in the countryside can be isolated and destroyed and the kingdom saved.”

“Wonderful news!” Dagmar exclaimed.

“We’ll celebrate!” Saxthor sat on the divan in her adjoining, mauve colored receiving room. Dagmar sat beside the king and read the parchment handed to her, occasionally looking up bright-eyed at him.

*

“The princess is such a great help,” Saxthor commented later to Belnik, his valet. At Memlatec’s recommendation, Prince Regent Augusteros had assigned Belnik to Saxthor as his personal attendant upon his return to Konnotan from the adventure. Now everywhere the king went, Belnik accompanied him. The king came to depend on Belnik more and more.

“Princess Dagmar is a great comfort to your majesty,” Belnik, said as he brushed off the king’s riding cloak.

“Yes, she is the most wonderful lady,” Saxthor replied, his tone effervescent. He turned to Belnik, watching absentmindedly as his valet laid out his clothes. “Memlatec did well in recommending you for my confidant, Belnik. I know what I say to you won’t go beyond the two of us. I depend on your discretion.”

I’m very reserved with the courtiers, having learned as king, that it’s dangerous to say more than necessary, Saxthor thought. Too many people add their own interpretations. Still, I need someone to confide in, and as my personal attendant, Belnik is the only person I feel confidence in now that Bodrin is away. Memlatec chose Belnik himself. He checked the man out thoroughly before recommending him as my valet. Most of my old friends are away training for the coming war or setting up their own lives.

Memlatec probably asked Belnik to encourage my relationship with Princess Dagmar. The union of the two houses would cement the northern defenses for the future and Princess Dagmar is the most beautiful, intelligent, and understanding of marriageable princesses. Memlatec has pointed that out. A marriage might end Sengenwha’s historic hatred of Neuyokkasinians. Her people might well accept a Neuyokkasinian as her consort, since it doesn’t interfere with their historic monarchy. I don’t know how my people would feel about her as my queen, though I do know they are growing to love her.

“Will your majesty need your riding clothes this afternoon?”

“I know nothing about courting a lady, Belnik, I’ll need your advice. You’ve a wife and children, don’t you?”

“Yes, Your Majesty, I have six children. I’ll try to help in any way I can.”

Saxthor walked over to a window and looked out over the city to the harbor and river beyond. I suspect Belnik leads by suggestion. He smiled to himself. “I’ll ask Princess Dagmar to ride with me this afternoon. Lay out my clothes in case she accepts.” He turned to see Belnik already brushing off his riding clothes.

“Oh, she’ll accept your invitation, Your Majesty,” Belnik said without looking up. “I’ve seen the look on her face. She favors your majesty’s company and council.”

Saxthor puffed up his chest. “You really think she likes me?”

“There’s no doubt of it, Your Majesty. Pardon my boldness, but shouldn’t your majesty go ask the princess about riding this afternoon? Ladies take a while to prepare for such things.”

“You’re right, of course; I’ll go ask her at once.” He snatched up his riding crop and patting Belnik on the back, strutted toward the door. He looked back to see his romantic mentor, shaking his head.

Saxthor rushed to the eastern wing of the palace to find the princess.

When Calamidese returns from his campaign to escort his mother and sister back to Sengenwhapolis, I’ll ask his permission to pursue Dagmar, if he thinks his subjects could accept the match, thought Saxthor. He checked his hair and clothing as he light-footedly rushed to the princess’s apartment. At her door, he again hesitated. Perhaps I’m being too bold.

* * *

King Calamidese assembled his generals in his tent in the hills overlooking Sengenwhapolis to discuss strategy. The reassuring lamplight and warming flame from the brazier, flickered on the canvas tent’s fluttering walls. Calamidese had twice checked his elite guards that surrounded his headquarters. He felt comfortable with his remaining generals now reunited with him. The king stood over a map table in full uniform addressing his staff.

“Gentlemen, we have no choice but to retake the capital,” King Calamidese said. “We cannot rule the country with the capital in enemy hands. As some of you know, we assembled a select group of our guards. They attempted to sneak into the city via the underground tunnel through which we escaped the city earlier. They found the tunnel completely sealed. There’s no way to sneak into the city underground without tunneling. That would take too long. Any delay will only cost more citizens’ lives and give Dreaddrac time to send reinforcements. With the threat of our subjects being thrown from the walls, we can’t withdraw or delay our attack.”

The agitated generals milled about, speaking in low tones to compatriots next them.

Calamidese allowed the commotion to die down then continued. “The engineers have completed the ladders, catapults, and battering rams, while we’ve drawn up our plans. Tonight, we’ll issue orders for the troop dispositions around the walls. Our soldiers will be fighting to retake their beloved capital. Many will have family members possibly thrown from the battlements. You must prepare your commanders. Be sure they prepare the troops for such an event.”

The king slammed his fist on the table, its contents jumping at the impact. Mumblings ceased and all looked at the king. “Remember gentlemen, the orcs will be fighting for their survival behind enemy lines. They will expect no mercy. Both sides will be fighting fiercely to the bitter end. Tomorrow morning, just before the attack, I’ll issue fresh orders to be sure our plan isn’t compromised during the night. That is all.”

After the generals returned to prepare their troops for the coming battle, Calamidese stood in front of his tent observing the lights of Sengenwhapolis down below. The moonlight gave the city’s polished granite walls a silvery glow. Beyond them, the city’s lights burned bright in many windows. An occasional fire would flare up from either resistance or clumsy defensive preparations. That would throw light on scrambling orcs. Once a cloud floated over the moon and the resulting shadow slid across the city. It brought back the memory of the wraith in the king’s audience hall, hovering over Dreaddrac’s ambassador. The king shuddered.
The chilled night breeze flapped the tent walls behind him.

General Tarquak must be moving from commander to commander, reviewing the preparations for the city’s defense. Why haven’t I heard from the grand duke and his army northwest of the city?

*

In the morning chill, King Calamidese rose early and looked over his troop encampments on the misty slopes. Wisps of smoke rose over the city below from preparing breakfast and fire the night before.

The king summoned his commanders to review his overall plan of attack and issue final disposition orders. “The orcs have a secure hold on the city,” the king said. “They won’t leave the safety of the walls to risk a pitched battle. We shall have to go over the walls or batter down our ancient city gates.”

They all agreed a direct attack on the city was the only option. Each general received his contingent’s orders for the campaign under the king’s personal seal.

“General Meclor, you’ll lead the attack on the Emerald Gate from the south,” Calamidese ordered. “You'll command the largest battering ram, there. Have your troops protect it. Be sure it’s soaked with water so that the orcs can’t set it on fire. We’ve no time to rebuild it.”

“Colonel Keklak, you’ll lead your forces attacking the north Diamond Gate. Draw the orcs attention and forces away from the attack on the Emerald Gate. You must make a complete diversion. If you fight well, General Tarquak may think our uncle has arrived from the north to reinforce the battle for the city.”

Calamidese turned and put his hand on General Binwan’s shoulder. “General Binwan, you’ll command the largest force. Your men will attack the city’s entire southern wall using ladders. By extending your attack along the wall’s length, we’ll force General Tarquak to spread his defenses thinly, creating a weakness we can exploit.”

“Your Majesty, will my own troops be spread too thin for the attack to succeed?” General Binwan asked.

“We’ll have to take that risk. We must find a weakness in their defenses. As we know, the city walls have never been breached before. The rest of you will spread your attacks on the northern and eastern walls to draw attention. Hopefully you can draw the defenders away from the gates. There are specific responsibilities for each of you as contained in the written orders you’ve received. Are there any questions?” King Calamidese asked.

“Where will your majesty deploy the wizard?” General Meclor asked.

“Wizard Artrek will accompany Colonel Keklak initially to draw attention to the north wall. He’ll then quietly move to join you, General Meclor, in the attack on the Emerald Gate, but he is only to use his power once the gate is broken. If we use magic too soon at the Emerald Gate, the defenders will know our main objective,” Calamidese replied. “If there are no more questions, proceed to your positions and begin your attack when the signalman shoots the red arrow in one hour.”

*

The attack began as planned and went well. The orcs were used to fighting hand-to-hand in open country; defending walls wasn’t an orc’s strength. True to the plan, when Wizard Artrek shot wizard-fire at the defenders on the north wall, the orcs stood back from the battlements. The Sengenwhan attackers were able to get their ladders on the walls and break through a section of the ramparts. Rumors that the king’s uncle was approaching the city with another army sent panic through the orcs. The ogre commanders had to whip the orcs back to the walls.

*

General Meclor pushed his men to support and defend the battering ram on the Emerald Gate. His subordinates manned the catapults, hurling massive stones at the towers that guarded the gate and surrounding walls. The fighting went on for most of the day. Wizard Artrek moved around south of the city to the Emerald Gate unobserved. He shot wizard-fire at the defenders there. The wizard and General Meclor conferred on the approaching sunset, knowing the wraith commanding the city defenders would soon rise and inspire the defenses through terror.

The orcs were convinced two wizards were attacking. They kept a major contingent on the north wall. Fighting had continued all day around the city walls. By sunset, the Sengenwhan army had broken through the southern Emerald Gate.

* * *

In the gathering darkness, General Tarquak rose from his resting place in the cool darkness of the Sekcmet Palace dungeon. Rested and now cloaked in a new orc body, he reveled in the fighting as he rushed from post to post. He discovered incredible new powers as a wraith. He left his command post to personally attack this group or that, leaving his host bodies from time to time, spreading death with his vapor.

The wraith became enraged when he saw the Sengenwhan army pouring over the north wall. Again in a host body, he rushed to the wall, hacked off the commanding ogre’s head, and threw his body over the wall. Then he took command of the orcs personally. His viscous attack on their commander terrified the orcs. They fought back the Sengenwhan attackers. Tarquak was able to close the breach in the north wall, but he lost critical focus on the Emerald Gate.

General Meclor’s army poured through the Emerald Gate, fighting hand to hand against the orcs and ogres with much loss of life on both sides. General Tarquak realized his mistake and rushed to the crumbling southern defenses.

The north wall defenders panicked again when they heard the Sengenwhan army controlled the Emerald Gate. General Tarquak raced back to the north wall to reassure his troops, there was only one wizard, and that one was at the Emerald Gate.

*

“What’s the meaning of this cowardice?” Tarquak yelled at the new ogre commander just left in charge at the north Diamond Gate.

“Them orcs is out of control, General,” the ogre said.

“They are, are they,” the general said. He turned and shot wizard-fire at several of the panicky orcs, vaporizing them on the spot.