The Dreaddrac Onslaught (Book 4) (8 page)

The orcs instantly realized their own overlord wouldn’t hesitate to kill any deserters or cowards in their midst. That made them more afraid of General Tarquak than Sengenwhan troops attacking the north wall, and they turned back on the invading troops spilling over the wall beside the gate.

“See to it this doesn’t happen again, or you will be ash as well,” Tarquak told the ogre.

The commander was shaking, but nodded his head. With control restored there, the general returned to the city’s southern walls. The Sengenwhan troops were fighting in the city streets on his return.

A western gate tower caught fire. Flames bathed the city battles in an eerie light. It looked like the Sengenwhan forces might break through the western wall as well. General Tarquak raced there to bolster his troops resolve.

Without the general, the troops fighting in the southern section of Sengenwhapolis weakened, and the Sengenwhan army pushed forward nearly to Sekcmet Palace.

* * *

King Calamidese was excited with the campaign’s success. He felt his troops would breach the Diamond Gate in the north wall, splitting the city in two

In the night, confusion reigned and only the flickering, deep golden firelight in the city gave any indication, who was winning the battle. The Dark Lord’s forces had the advantage in the darkness, but still they weren’t used to defensive warfare. General Tarquak rushed around all night, battling with the enemy personally, here, then threatening his troops with death if they failed, there. Ground was gained then lost and the city itself seemed to crumble in the horrific battle. All night long the struggle raged, but in the darkness, a stalemate developed.

King Calamidese had committed all his troops by midafternoon; he had no reserves. His men needed rest, but if they stopped fighting, they would be expelled from the city and lose their hard won positions. There were no fresh reserves.

The defenders seemed to draw strength, when the king’s uncle hadn’t arrived with reinforcements from the north to support Calamidese’s attacks. Colonel Keklak wasn’t able to break through the Diamond Gate and the battle for the north wall settled into a stalemate.

*

Early in the morning, about an hour before sunrise, there was a swooshing in the air that few heard due to the noise of clashing swords and shields in battle. Crackling fires throughout the city added to the noise. One of Colonel Keklak’s men looked up and saw the golden light from burning buildings reflecting off dragon Hakbar’s glossy-bronze scales, circling overhead. Suddenly, the dragon’s deafening scream pierced the predawn sky and stopped the combatants below. For a moment, there was silence in the city; then panic ensued.

* * *

“Hakbar!” General Tarquak’s ogre aide exclaimed. He pointed to the predawn sky.

“Hakbar!” General Tarquak yelled from his vantage point high up on the city walls. Tarquak turned to the aide and asked, “Is this a really viscous creature, I mean one of the worst?”

“Hakbar be a ferocious beast that don’t know nothing but rage and hatred since he were a little lizard in the Munattahensenhov dragon stables. I thinks his tortured life after birth in dark fires and blood done left Hakbar wanting to kill everything that moves. He don’t care ‘bout who’s who down here.”

“The dragon is looking for the greatest concentration of movement, I think,” Tarquak said. “See there, he’s picked his target.”

The bronze dragon flapped his enormous wings and flew higher in the sky.

“Well, he ain’t leaving the battle afore joining it, that's sure,” the ogre said.

“Look there,” Tarquak said, pointing off at an angle down on the south wall. He pointed it out to the ogre, who stepped forward to join the general in watching the dragon’s next move. For an instant, the troops below milled about watching the dragon’s every turn.

“They don’t knows what to do,” the ogre said, staring at the frozen battle below. The ogre looked up and saw the huge winged beast turn and shoot down on the city like an arrow.

Hakbar aimed his snout at the struggling hordes between the Emerald Gate and Sekcmet Palace. Even from a distance, his fiery red eyes seemed more brilliant as flames snorted in a wide streak through the streets. The flames incinerated hundreds of combatants, both orc and man. The roaring fire blasts drowned the screams of those burning but the ogre saw the screams on the burning faces.

Hakbar turned again and swooped down on the fighting as both sides turned and fled for the safety of anything that could withstand the raining fire. The city’s southern section now burned. Everyone in Sengenwhapolis stopped fighting each other and bolted for shelter. Where the flames shot, anything exposed, burned.

When the dragon cleared the streets of movement, he turned north. The battle on the walls stopped as both sides watched Hakbar torch the area around the Diamond Gate.

The troops on both sides panicked, seeing Hakbar turn and swoop over the Diamond Gate. He surveyed the movement there for his next attack. Both orc and Sengenwhan soldier took shelter in the same buildings, knowing in the next moment flames would sear anything mortal still out in the open.

The dragon soared for a moment above the towers and then he dove on the Diamond Gate, engulfing it in flames. The granite gate was black rubble in his wake. The older limestone and marble walls nearby glowed and crumbled into lime. Had the dragon not been there, it would have been a great opportunity for the attackers to rush through, but as long as Hakbar was showering the city with flames, no one approached the gate’s ruins.

General Tarquak rushed back to Sekcmet Palace to its highest tower. “It’s the best vantage point from which to view the carnage and destruction,” the general told his aide. He thrust both arms into the air, two fingers on each hand a V, feeling total victory.

It be the safest place, the aide thought.

* * *

“Sound retreat,” King Calamidese said as the light of dawn lit up the horizon.

“But, Your Majesty, General Tarquak has to retreat from sunlight with the dawn,” his aide protested. “He won’t be able to lead the city’s defense.”

King Calamidese turned to the youth, “But Hakbar can, and will, fight on through the day. Does anyone have any suggestions?”

A silence ensued.

“Look there, northeast of the city,” the king said. “Our Sengenwhan forces still outside the city are suffering terrible losses under the dragon’s attacks. It demoralizes the troops, seeing Hakbar return after flaming the field to snap up and swallow their comrades.”

The dragon swooped down over the smoldering arena, here and there dipping his head to devour a roasted soldier. He’d toss the body whole to the back of his mouth and swallow then look for his next morsel. As the dragon flew closer, the ominous swishing of its wings grew louder. Combatants knew flames would follow. They’d scramble for cover.

“The dragon has endless hunger; he eats both orc and man,” the aide said. “He eats constantly.”

Both sides recoiled at the dragon’s appetite and total lack of remorse. The Sengenwhan army abandoned the break through soon after the king ordered retreat .

“Until we neutralize the dragon, we’ll only lose men to the beast,” Calamidese said. He turned his horse back into the hills and a safe cave there.

As the Sengenwhan troops turned and fled the city, the orcs and ogres regrouped and reformed on the city wall remnants. With the armies separated, Hakbar focused on destroying the Sengenwhan forces, bolstering the orcs’ and ogres’ confidence. The day was lost with decimation of men and weapons for King Calamidese. Hakbar continued to soar ominously over the silent battlefield.

* * *

A soldier shot an arrow at the dragon in frustration. Hakbar didn’t even notice the bump on his scale, but the sight caught the notice of another soldier on one of the catapults.

“Let’s get a log or timber we can use as an arrow shaft,” the man called to his fellows on the catapult.

As a unit, several men rushed for a replacement shaft on the back of the catapult. They chopped a point on one end as another man nailed strips of leather water bags to sticks at the other end, forming a huge arrow.

“There’s not much time,” the man with original idea said. He looked up to locate the dragon that was incinerating retreating soldiers east of the city. “Harden the tip at the fire over there.”

“How are we going to hold the arrow steady or shoot it?” a comrade asked.

“I don’t know how to shoot the arrow from the catapult with any precision,” the first soldier said. He turned to his comrade. “We have to try something.”

The soldier looked up and saw Hakbar now bearing down on them, his fierce eyes fixed on the activity at the catapult. Dragon wings whipped the air to gain speed.

“Cripes!” the leader said. “The dragon’s seen us.” He dropped the stick hefting up the arrow and raced for cover.

Hakbar swooped down as the remaining catapult crew realized the dragon was coming straight at them. A confident, sinister sneer spread over on the dragon’s snout. His head rose and pulled back like a spear thrower. The stench of burning sulfur stung the man’s nostrils.

“Run!” screamed the second soldier, who ran as hard as he could.

Hakbar’s head shot forward and snorted flames at the easy targets. The catapult burst into flames and fell as ash. Its attendants were charred roasts.

*

Though General Tarquak had returned to his resting place in the dungeon, his aide, still on the tower balcony, clapped his hands, delighted with the dragon’s success.

*

A soldier on a neighboring catapult watched the scene unfold with horror as the flames burned friends he’d dined with the night before. Through the day, Hakbar burned the attackers and their weapons. When the bewildered leader recovered that night, it was with an idea.

“Quick, help me with these oilskins,” the catapulter called to his comrades on the war machine. Dismayed by the carnage nearby, the soldiers milled about in shock. But with the help of two others, the three men rushed for oilskins, stacked and waiting for them to hurl onto the city’s defending orcs.

“What good are these,” one man said.

With so little time, the first soldier ignored the question but said, “Lash the skins together as one.” It took the whole crew to heft the bulging oilskin cluster into the catapult’s spoon. When Hakbar soared back to the north wall, the catapult crew was ready.

“Hold your positions, men,” the leader said. “Having burned most of the catapults and charred the crews, the dragon won’t expect resistance. If he’s overconfident, he’ll fly low over the field, looking for more bodies.”

The dragon dipped down to gobble up tidbits here and there before renewing his attack on the retreating Sengenwhan army. Apparently sated and feeling renewed, Hakbar turned and passed east along the north wall again.

“Timing is everything, men!” the catapult team leader shouted. The smells of burning flesh, sulfur, and smoke mingled in a constant haze. The potent oil bags rested in the catapult. I hope the weight of the oil won’t be too much for the catapult to sling, he thought. “Help me prime this thing.” The crew turned the groaning ropes, tightening the catapult’s tension. The shaft bent under the strain. “All of you run and get behind that wall over there. Flail your arms, no shake your weapons at him to attract his attention. We only get one chance at this. Be sure you all get behind the wall in case I fail here.”

“What about you?” another soldier asked.

“Never mind me,” the leader said, standing tall beside the primed catapult. “Get behind the wall with the others.” He ducked out of sight.

Hesitant, the man turned and ran to the barricade, leaving his friend alone with the catapult.

Hakbar soars on the rising thermals from the burning city, thought the leader. He’s focused on the retreating army in the distance, but follows the wall to be sure he flames the catapults as he passes down the line.

The man wrapped the release rope once more around his hand. He checked around him again, and then crawled out of sight under the massive weapon’s timbers.

*

Hakbar soared slowly down the line of catapults burning each in turn, sometimes circling around to be sure one was totally engulfed in flames with any crew foolish enough to remain with it.

These men run off like sheep, the dragon thought. They’ve wised up and now there’s not even a man, baked in his armor shell, to eat for all my trouble.

He flew on to the next catapult, one with an unusually large mass in its cup. Hakbar flapped his wings to gain altitude, took a deep breath, and prepared to snort fire to finish the abandoned catapult he was approaching.

Just as the dragon started to snort flames, he caught sight of movement beneath the war engine. The soldier hiding beneath the catapult jerked the knot in the restraining rope that held the oil bags. The weapon’s great arm flew forward and crashed into the restraining bar. The massive oil bag cluster, spun through the air, smashing into Hakbar’s face from a range he couldn’t evade. Instantly the flame from his nostrils burned the leather bags. The flying oil ignited and streamed along the shocked dragon’s body. The flaming reptile screamed. Burning oil lit up the sky, causing both armies to look up and shudder.