The Powterosian War (Book 5) (16 page)

“I agree. I’m returning to Heedra,” Socockensmek said. “If there is a sudden and direct attack at Neuyokkasin, and the Dreaddrac forces can break through at Heedra, they could take Konnotan before Saxthor can move his armies south to save the capital.”

“I’ll leave my men with you to help in Heedra’s defense, or here, if you think best to defend Favriana in case Heedra isn’t the target. I’ll go directly to Saxthor, at Hoya, and let him know of the situation here.”

“Done,” Socockensmek said. “I’ll take your men with me to Heedra. If that’s their objective; we can use all the help we can get.” He shook Bodrin’s hand again, smiling at him. “Saxthor has a good right hand.”

Bodrin flushed red and shook the old general’s hand again. “How’s the leg?”

“Holding up, thanks for asking. It’ll get me to Heedra.”

Bodrin started out the door.

“Tell the king I’ll hold Heedra and the river for him, he can rely on that,” Socockensmek said after him.

Bodrin gave orders to his aide to take the men and join General Socockensmek. With that, he jumped in a boat heading north with supplies for Botahar.

The northern kingdoms are crumbling. Saxthor is trying to save his allies and doesn’t realize the enemy is about to attack Neuyokkasin behind him, thought Bodrin as the boat pulled away from the docks and into the wind from the river. He held onto the rail as the heavily laden boat rocked, cutting into the current and starting upriver. Bodrin pushed back the hair from his face. Do we have time to move troops enough to defend Neuyokkasin, he thought. Do we have troops enough anyway?

* * *

King Grekenbach stood on the tower balcony of his palace in Graushdemheimer, holding a tattered message in his trembling hand. The chilly wind blew through his hair and he drew his cloak around him, breathing a heavy sigh.

The news is never good now, he thought. So there goes our western province, a third of the kingdom, our oldest ally. There will be no relief now, nothing to break the siege. The duke and duchess were our most trusted relatives and allies. The poor duchess, she was such a sweet thing. She had no concept of evil or anyone wanting to hurt anyone else. The world we knew is gone. Nonee and now the duke and duchess… I’m losing all. And Duke Jedrac, irritating and defiant as he can be, he’s always been reliable in keeping the Dreaddrac evil from our doorstep. I know it’s humiliating him not to be able to come to our aid now. His forefathers have always fought valiantly for the kingdom. Now he’s trapped and unable to do anything. We’re on our own here. When dawn comes and we issue from the sally port, there will be no aid to support us. A knock at the door brought the king’s attention back to the palace and city.

“Enter,” Grekenbach said. He gently rolled up the message about the death of the Duke and Duchess of Heggolstockin, laying it on his desk as he entered the tower room.

“Forgive the intrusion, Majesty, but the general wanted to inform you that the troops are prepared and ready for the attack at dawn,” the chatra said.

“Excellent,” Grekenbach said. “We’ll join them half an hour before dawn.”

The chatra bowed again and withdrew.

Grekenbach went back to the balcony, looking out over the city for what might be the last time. It was late and most of the lights were out in the city. The enemy campfires beyond the walls were still burning bright.

As he started to turn back into the tower to catch a few hours of sleep, the king noted something shaded moving in the torchlight beyond the walls. He bent over the balcony, peering into the darkness with squinted eyes, trying to make out what the movement was. Light from the campfires flicked just enough light on the movement to show its mounded form.

That can’t be soil flying through the air? He thought. Mounds of something throwing out huge fans of soil! The king rushed back into the turret heading down to the walls for a closer look. He ran into the chatra again on the landing to the spiral staircase. “There’s something moving just beyond the walls,” Grekenbach said.

“There're huge beasts burrowing under it, Your Majesty,” the chatra said, breathing heavily.

“What is it? I’ve never seen anything living that size. Is it my imagination?”

“The sentries report there are several giant pangolin like things with plated armor and claws on their front feet several feet long, raking out huge swaths of soil and rock, digging down towards the walls. They mean to tunnel under the ramparts!”

“Find Wizard Tolalo and send him to me, immediately. I’ll be by the north gate.”

“Yes, Majesty.”

Grekenbach rushed past the man and down the steps. He turned and yelled back. “Tell the general at the sally port to cancel the raid and to meet me at the north gate as well.” Grekenbach raced down the stairs and through the city to the north gate where he climbed to the tower overlooking the gate. There they were, now more visible in the firelight, the whingtangs’ bronze-colored armor speckled with dirt, throwing out huge scoops of soil and rock. The firelight caught the grisly claws, like massive scimitars, slashing into the earth. Their burrowing was approaching the foundation of the walls themselves. The king looked to either side of him, seeing the terror on the faces of his most seasoned troops.

“What are they?” the king asked.

No one answered; they stared open-mouthed at the beasts, shaking their heads.

The bastion began to shutter ever so faintly with each slam of the clawed paws into the soil. The tremors rippled up through the defenders, shattering confidence with each shutter. The plates on the great beasts, now half underground, shifted as the monsters dug deeper. Great tails with spiked balls at the tips swished back and forth in the animals’ excitement, smashing orcs that dared advance too close to the whingtangs.

“What does your majesty require?” Tolalo asked, yawning, coming up the fortress stairs behind the king.

“Look there,” Grekenbach said, thrusting his arm out like a spear, pointing to the nearest whingtang. “What is it? How can we stop them?”

Seeing the beasts and catching his balance from the latest tremor, the wizard fell back wide-eyed. Then he jolted forward, leaning over the rail, staring in disbelief. The whingtang closest to the gate fortification backed out of the tunnel. His huge head turned up, looking at the king and wizard in the tower. Its great head shook off the dirt and rock, revealing its awesome tusks gleaming in the firelight. The beast opened its elongated snout and hissed a terrible hiss, revealing the monstrous tusks to be even more imposing and threatening. The beast snorted soil out of its nasal passages and scurried back down into the tunnel it was digging.

Grekenbach and Tolalo stumbled backward until they leaned against the back wall of the tower’s observation room. The two men looked at each other.

“Majesty,” the general in charge of the men for the dawn sortie said, coming up. “I’ve dismissed the men but told them to remain on alert. How may I assist you?”

Grekenbach just pointed to the tower rail overlooking the great northern gate. The general looked at the stunned king and went to the rail. He, too, stumbled back from the sight.

“What are they?”

“They tunnel, whatever they are, and they’re tunneling under the gate and walls faster than we can react to them. If they continue the walls will collapse. With those things loose in the city, we’ll have to capitulate without even a fight.” Grekenbach turned to the wizard. “Tolalo, what can you do to stop the things?”

“I’ve no idea, majesty. I’ll return to my workroom and search the library there for an answer.” And with that the wizard rushed from the tower.

“We’ve almost no time!” Grekenbach shouted to the wizard.

Meanwhile the general hurried to the nearest catapult and ordered the crew to load a boulder and hurl it at the nearest whingtang. The animal flinched, but continued burrowing as if it had only been annoyed by a fly. The general returned to the king in the tower.

“General, any ideas as to what we can do?”

“Those plates on the things, it doesn’t look like we can penetrate those from the front with anything we have.”

“Bring oil bags,” Grekenbach said to the tower commander nearby. “Load them into the catapults. Set them afire and see if you can hit the creatures with burning oil. If that gets between the plates, it might burn the beasts enough to make them retreat.”

One of the whingtangs slammed its claws into rock and shook the northern walls and city buildings. A multistory warehouse near the gate, shaken too often, began to crumble. With that great shutter, the walls buckled and the warehouse collapsed behind the great gate tower. The rumbling within the city awakened the citizens nearby. Lights began to appear in the houses. Then screams rose as the citizens saw the rubble in the streets and felt massive shuddering coming from just beyond the wall.

“The people think the enemy has broken through and is destroying the city,” the king said. “Send soldiers through the nearby streets announcing a building has fallen, but the enemy has not broken through.”

“What of the beasts, what do we say about those things,” an aide said, nodding toward the whingtangs.

“Say nothing of the beasts as yet. If we can stop them, there’s no sense in alarming the people. They can’t see them from the city except maybe from the tallest buildings. Say nothing about them. And get hold of one of the building tradesman and have the rubble from the fallen building cleaned up to open the avenue to troop movements.”

Pulleys squeaked and ropes strained with soldiers on the tower hauling up a great mass of oil bags. More troops loaded them into the catapults now rolled into position on either side of the gate tower.

“Are you ready?” the king asked the commander of the tower’s defenses. He raised his sword and nodded affirmatively to the king.

“Light the bags and fire at will,” Grekenbach commanded.

The oil bags flared around the leather doused with the most flammable oil. A whoosh sounded as the catapults hurled the bags through the predawn darkness, shooting great flaming arcs through the sky. Some missed, but several splashed against the plates of the closest whingtang burrowing directly under the northern gate. The oil poured down the plates and under them as a great blaze spread with the release of the oil on impact. For a moment, the whingtang continued to dig, its snorting in the tunnel heard by those above. A great squeal sounded from the earth below. The Whingtang stopped, hesitated for a second, then its whole body trembled. It tried unsuccessfully to scratch the burn but then the plates rippled as the great beast backed out of the burrow. The oil burned, its billowing black smoke rising from under the animal’s plated armor. The smoke was heavy; the stench of burning flesh and bone blew over the tower for an instant. The whingtang thrashed, then rolled on its back rolling from side to side to smother the flames. Its terrible pain drove it mad. In its panic, the beast trampled many orcs and smashed many more with its swishing tail and club. The great opened mouth screamed, the tusks slashing the air.

“They do burn,” Grekenbach mumbled. “But we’ve only hit two of them, the others are out of the catapults range.”

The whingtang below the gate turned its small but cold eyes up to the king and shrieked a blood curdling scream. Its great head shook and the tusks gored the air in what appeared to be a challenge. Grekenbach stepped back from the tower rail. The great beast charged the stronghold’s base, shaking it at the foundation and knocking the king and general to their knees. They rose to see the whingtang turn and rush away from the city. Smoke and flame still trailed from its back. Its massive paws trampled the orcs in its way as it ran out of control into the dawn.

A man rushed up from below in the tower. “Majesty, there is a crack in the foundation wall up through the stone of the first floor.”

“How bad is it? Will the gate collapse?”

“No, Majesty, it stopped advancing, but the sergeant below told me to warn you that the tower may not stand much more hammering.”

Grekenbach turned back to the enemy. Two of the whingtangs had fled the field, but four more still burrowed too far out of range of the catapults stationed on the walls below the tower.

“What do we do now?” the general asked.

“Wait,” Grekenbach said. He looked at the pale pink and yellow horizon. Dawn was breaking. “If those things were bred from pangolins, they will hate the daylight and seek shelter. They haven’t dug themselves deeply enough here to get out of the light. They will scurry back to wherever General Vylvex has kept them during the day.”

The men in the tower and on the walls stood motionless, waiting for the sun’s rays to strike the backs of the whingtangs. As it did, the beasts scrambled backward out of their tunnels and with great difficulty, the handlers managed to direct them back to their shelters for the day.

“They’ll be back tonight,” the general said.

“Yes, but we’ve got the daylight to find a way to stop them. I’m off to see the wizard,” and with that, the king left the tower heading back to his palace. He worked his way around the rubble of the fallen warehouse where workers were now busy clearing the road.

Crisis averted, Grekenbach thought. For the moment, but what next?

At the palace, the king stopped to write a message to King Saxthor, warning him that Graushdemheimer was under attack by some monstrous tunneling beasts and he, Grekenbach, couldn’t assure Saxthor how long the city could hold out. He sent the message by passenger pigeon, then went to the wizard’s tower.

“What have you found out, Tolalo,” the king asked.

“There is nothing in any of the books about such creatures. The Dark Lord has bred or created them since the Third Wizard War. They must be related to pangolins; they have the look and characteristics. He’s bred not only size but those tusks and claws into monstrous extremes.”

“Yes, we rather noticed that. You’ve got the daylight to come up with something that will stop them. They’ll be back tonight and the walls can’t last the night if they continue to burrow under them.”

The wizard bowed to the king and Grekenbach left the wizard to his challenge. He ate a breakfast, not knowing when he would have another chance to eat, and returned to the north wall and the gate tower. He inspected the crack in the foundation and agreed it would hold against orc attacks, but not much more pounding or undermining from the whingtangs. As the afternoon sun sank, the king grew restless. He returned to the wizard in his tower.

“What solutions have you?” Grekenbach asked.

“Majesty, there’s no energy gradient near the city, so I can’t tap into that to stop the beasts. There are no potions that I can find that could stop such brutes. I’ve no solution as yet, but I’m still looking.”

“Yes, well, you’ve about three hours before all is lost.”

“Nothing like a little pressure.”

“Apparently Vylvex doesn’t have enough troops to take the city walls by storm. He’s counting on those monsters to take down the walls so he can storm through the breach. If we can stop the creatures and hold the walls, we may hold out until relief comes.”