The Powterosian War (Book 5) (3 page)

“General,” Bordabrundese said to the heavily armored dwarf near the throne distinguished by his grey beard, thick ruddy nose, the gilded and horned helmet, and massive sword in a ruby encrusted scabbard. The general came closer to the throne and bowed.

Bordabrundese waved the other courtiers away to speak privately with the general. “General, you are in charge of security. What’s the status on this force marching southeast from Hador?” The general’s countenance darkened, his face tightened with the red spider veins intensifying. His dark eyes blackened and the mustache turned down accentuating his frown.

“Majesty, it’s the largest force we’ve seen south of Hador since the Wizard Wars. We’ve not made out the extent of it yet. There’s also something new. Something huge and fearful is advancing at the head of the army. There appears to be six of them. No one knows what they are or what they’re capable of doing.”

“Some new monstrous creation, no doubt,” the king said. He scratched his beard.

“All we can tell so far is the things have some sort of armor plating and long pointed snouts with huge tusks and claws. Ogres ride them, their keepers, or drivers we suppose. A dozen ogres accompany each with chains attached to their legs. We think the behemoths are dangerous even to the enemy forces that drive them toward Graushdemheimer.”

“Probably something like those diabolical cave crickets the Dark Lord bred back in the last days of the Wizard Wars.”

“Might be these things are nocturnal, too. They don’t seem to like the sun, thrashing about more during the daylight.”

“Can you tell the extent of their army? Will King Grekenbach be able to neutralize it without our help?”

“We don’t know yet, Majesty. We think it’s three maybe four legions, but they are still too far off for our scouts to be certain. I’ll let you know more on the force as they approach our domain.”

“Do so, but continue with the war preparations for now. All forges to work on swords, shields, and spear heads. The army is too large for us to take on alone. Perhaps we shall launch a surprise attack on their rear when they attack Graushdemheimer, assuming they still don’t know we’re here.” The king waved his hand to dismiss the general, who started to depart the hall.

An aide rushed past the general with a message. He handed it to Bordabrundese then saluted the general. The king opened the message and read but a bit.

“General, it seems we have some information on those monster beasts with General Vylvex. This message from King Ormadese warns us of a beast he refers to as a whingtang. It appears to be like a thirty foot pangolin: armor plated, long snout with tusks and massive front claws. It would seem these things burrow.” He glanced up at the general, then back down at the message. “If they come here, they could be used to burrow into and expose our subterranean halls. If they are heading to Graushdemheimer, they’ll be for tunneling under the city walls. Seems one was used to rip open the closed tunnel under Hador before Ormadese had it strangled, gutted, and turned to granite with magic once it was dead.”

“A thirty foot long, armored, tunneling monster,” the general repeated. He stared at the message reflecting, “A whingtang.” Bordabrundese saw the dwarf general’s hand squeeze his sword hilt. “The large granite blocks used to close our tunnel entrances will not deter such creatures long.” He turned again to leave the hall.

King Bordabrundese watched the commander march out of the hall. The soothing sound of great iron hammers smashing out iron blades on anvils deep in the forges beyond the audience hall was some reassurance.

* * *

General Vylvex marched his army southeast with four legions of orcs, their larger ogre commanders cracking whips. Goblins dashed between legions delivering messages. At the front of the force stamped the great whingtangs. Nervous at being exposed in the daylight, and probably hungry, the beasts thrashed about moving forward, prodded by the controllers on either side. Great muscled ogres jerked on the chains attached to the iron plugs hammered into the whingtang's facial plates, hoping to steer the thrashing monsters. Clouds of dust rolled out from the great claws that flipped up the ground beneath the plodding feet.

Them ferocious whingtangs is an unknown, Vylvex thought. I think they’re still too wild for us to control in a battle. Their ogres can barely keep control of them in the march. I hope our forces is able to use one to open a tunnel under Hador and bring up the rest of my army before we attacks King Grekenbach at Graushdemheimer.

Vylvex watched the army pass from atop his new miniature dragon on a ridge above the plain. The grounded and exposed dragon snorted flames impatiently. When the black smoke cleared, the general noted one of the whingtangs breaking out of control, its head whipping about. The ogre mahout, pulling back on the reins too hard, was suddenly jerked out over the orcs onto their spears. The whingtang slashed side to side, whipping the ogres holding its restraints on its right side. One landed under the whingtang’s clawed foot. The beast ate part of its handler and trampled a dozen orcs before others could bring it under control again.

Those beasts must be hungry, Vylvex thought. We’ll need more orc corpses to feed them things if we don’t move faster to Graushdemheimer. Could be the dragon is scaring the beasts, too. The king don’t want Graushdemheimer burned so no dragons in the attack. I’ll send this dragon back to the Munattahensenhov and ride something else into battle I guesses.

“Drag up another of the monster cave cricket carcasses and feed those things,” Vylvex shouted to his aide.

“We needs to get to Graushdemheimer soon. We’re running out of them dead crickets, what the dragons brung with the whingtangs,” the aide said.

On the plain below, orcs hauled an upturned cricket carcass through the scrub brush out in front of the whingtangs. Before they secured them, the beasts caught a whiff of the carcass. All six stamped free of their restraints and rushed to feed. They surrounded the giant cricket carcass, feeding ravenously on the insect, like piglets along a sow’s belly. Crunching carapace mingled with squishing leg muscles exciting the orcs, who then demanded to eat, too.

The orc army, led by the giant armored brutes, marched over the plain through dusty brush and poor farms, through increasingly more wooded lands. Finally, they reached the heights above Graushdemheimer, the capital of Graushdem. By then their provisions had all but run out. The supply line, slight as it was since the tunnel under Hador collapsed, was destroyed by the rear guard attacks of Graushdem farmers.

“We gots to take the city and fast,” Vylvex told his commanders in his tent when they drew up camps and the soldiers had settled in. “The supplies is gone. We gotta capture the city to get food. There ain’t nothing left behind us even for the march back to Dreaddrac.” The commanders nodded agreement to each other.

* * *

King Bordabrundese studied the Dreaddrac army from his vantage point that night in the forest behind enemy lines. The enemy legions began establishing camps, two north and west of Graushdemheimer, the third moved to close the road south to Castilyernov Tossledorn. The Tossledorn garrison arrived in the capital the week before General Vylvex did, so the city was as well defended personnel wise as it was going to be. Graushdemheimer had not seen siege since the Wizard Wars. The walls were stout and high, but old and poorly maintained. Only recently, was there a major attempt to restore them. They were sixty feet high and thirty feet thick, allowing defenders to move catapults along the crest of the walls. Their massive facing stones could withstand boulders hurled from siege machinery. There were eight massive towers, two each at the gates leading north to Hador, west to Heggolstockin, and south to Tossledorn and two evenly spaced on the eastern wall. One of each of the northern and southern gate towers was a complete fortress in itself, housing a garrison within it. The city was a clutter of homes and shops along curved streets that would make it difficult for an invading army to traverse with any war machinery.

In the city center was the royal palace of the Graushdem kings surrounded by nobles’ palaces. The royal palace was massive, with inner and outer baileys and a central fortress of towers as its keep. The city’s congestion was also its weakness. There was ample warehouse storage to house the supplies needed for a long siege, but there was little park ground for keeping livestock over extended periods. Fresh food would run out all too soon.

“That city has adequate walls unless Vylvex builds many siege towers to storm them,” Bordabrundese said to his senior general. “King Grekenbach should have sufficient men to repel ladders unless more legions get through the mountains and join in the attack.” The dwarf king looked around him at the forest and rocky cliffs along the ridge. I don’t see where our army can camp out of the daylight here unless we can locate some caves in the cliffs. Send the scouts along here. See what you can locate and how many dwarves we can accommodate during the day.”

The dwarf general bowed and dispatched the scouts. When they returned two hours before dawn, the scouts met with the king and general and concluded they could only bring one dwarf legion to battle.

“So be it,” Bordabrundese said. “We’ll return tonight with the soldiers and put them up in the caves. We can’t risk a full scale attack by the orcs against us and be trapped out in the sunlight. We’ll wait until General Vylvex attacks Graushdemheimer, and then, while his troops concentrate on the city, we’ll attack from the rear and do what damage we can in the night.”

* *  *

King Grekenbach stood on Graushdemheimer’s walls at the western gate tower looking down at the orc army. The orc legions divided up, moving to set up camps blocking Graushdemheimer’s three great gates. The king ordered the catapults moved over to walls by the gate towers. He commanded others to bring stocks of all kinds of missiles, rocks, oil filled pouches, extra arrows and spears, and any other potentially lethal items that might be flung at the enemy. These, they amassed by the catapults.

“Be careful to secure the oil bags lest enemy arrows set them afire before we can fling them at the invaders.”

Then he saw trees falling in the forest northeast of the city and the beginnings of three great towers on wheels. They rose, each facing one of the primary gates. The orcs moved in great numbers like an ant swarm discovering a feast in the grass.

Grekenbach looked high up behind him to the tower of the royal palace keep. There, Queen Nonee stood on the balcony watching the army beyond the ramparts, and her husband directing the defensive maneuvers on the walls. A gentle breeze blew, rippling the delicate royal blue fabric of her gown. Even from the city walls, Grekenbach could see she leaned slightly forward, her hands gripping the rail. A gust of wind flipped her hair into disarray, reflecting the spectacle she looked upon.

The king looked back down on the formerly peaceful capital. People everywhere were scurrying to stock supplies for the siege. Groups of soldiers moved armaments to and fro through the undulating sea of chaos. Dogs barked, wagons creaked, horses’ hooves hammered the paving stones, and all were rushing to prepare for the coming strain of siege.

“I feared this war would come. I expected it to come from the west. I thought to combine our forces with those of Heggolstockin to meet and defeat the Dreaddrac army on the Heggolstockin Plain. The gates of Hador are impregnable. How could I anticipate an army would come here from the north to the very gates of Graushdemheimer,” King Grekenbach said to the general at his side.

“We’ve done what we could to prepare Graushdemheimer, Your Majesty.”

Grekenbach looked at the general a moment without speaking, and then looked up at his queen in the tower. “I should have sent her back to Neuyokkasin. She has no concept of war. She’s barely begun her new life here; now she may not live to enjoy it.”

“Your Majesty, she chose to be your queen and to rule here by your side. Life offers no guarantees. The whole court has seen her total devotion to you. Long or short, her life has found fulfillment with you. That is more than many ever know.”

Grekenbach stared into the general’s eyes. “What wisdom you speak, General. That is some comfort to me.”

“Majesty,” the wheezing chatra called, rushing up from below. “The Wizard Tolalo requests you come to the Wizard’s Tower.”

“Thank you,” Grekenbach said, but you could have sent a messenger with that request. You need not have interrupted your preparations for storing the city’s provisions.” Grekenbach looked again at the general who stood resolute. The king smiled and slapped him on the back, then left to return to the palace.

“What was that about, General?” the chatra asked.

“The war preparations are going well,” the general said, and he left to oversee the relocation of a catapult.

At the Wizard’s Tower, Grekenbach found Tolalo amid stacks of open books cluttering his work table and piles of ingredients everywhere. The tall thin wizard looked even thinner than usual, rushing about in his long robes with their rune embroidered sleeves. His medium length, dark brown beard indicated youth in wizards, but the lines around his eyes suggested otherwise. When Tolalo looked up at the king, his brilliant blue eyes illuminated his face. The wizard was in his element, his senses honed to the task before him.

“You wished to see me?” Grekenbach asked.

The wizard bowed quickly and turned back to a book on the table, flipping to some page he knew was there. “Here, Your Majesty,” Tolalo said, lifting the book. He pointed to the page with a long slender finger and a fingernail filed to a point. “It’s right here.”