Guardians of Magessa (The Birthright Chronicles Book 1) (18 page)

Senndra opened her eyes and saw that
Timothy was taking his hands away from the arrow, which was now blazing. He had
two rocks in his hands that Senndra guessed were flint and steel. She stayed
crouched for one more moment then rose to her full height and drew the arrow
back. She pointed the arrow up to what she guessed was the right elevation and
let it fly. She dropped down to a crouch and watched with anxiety as the arrow
arched over the enemy army. It reached its apex and began to drop back toward
the earth, sparks flaking off of it and floating in its wake. Senndra held her
breath as it approached its target. It hit the mass of dwarf soldiers and
disappeared into their midst. For several seconds nothing happened, but Senndra
kept her eyes on the stream. Suddenly it exploded with a burst of fire that
spread quickly down the entire length of the city. Dwarves screamed in pain as
they were consumed by the flames, and others scrambled to get away from the
inferno.

A shout sounded at the barrier and the
defenders poured from behind it at their enemies. The dwarves panicked as they
found themselves trapped between fire on one side and charging soldiers on the
other. Some tried to escape through the fire and were burned, while others were
slaughtered by the advancing soldiers. Soon, the south side of the stream was
clear of dwarves. Senndra and Timothy ran to where they saw Lemin and Vladimir
returning from the carnage.

“How was that, commander?” Timothy asked.
“Don’t you think that was an admirable shot?”

“It could have been better,” Lemin
grumbled. It was obvious that he thought Timothy was complimenting himself.

“Well, you can think what you want,”
Timothy said, “but I think Senndra made an excellent shot. In fact, I would
even say that it was a brilliant shot.”

Vladimir saved Lemin from embarrassment by
speaking. “The shot wasn't bad,” he said, “Let’s just say that it did its job,
and that’s good enough for me. At least for the time being we have a wall of
fire between us and them, and we’re safe.”

“That's true,” Lemin said, “but in only a
couple minutes, that fire will die down, and we will have to face the full fury
of the dwarf army. You had better rest as much as you can while I go speak to
the other commanders here.”

Lemin strode off in the direction of a
gathering of soldiers, leaving his three cadets at the barrier. Senndra looked
over at her two comrades and saw that Timothy had already fallen asleep with
his head resting against a barrel. Vladimir was making himself comfortable, and
he was soon motionless as well. Senndra sighed and propped herself up so that
she could see over the barrier. She knew that someone needed to stay awake to
warn the others when the dwarves renewed their attack. Soon the monotony of the
task overtook Senndra, and her mind began to wander. She thought of Feddir, who
she had left at the academy of Belvárd. When she had last seen him, he was not
much bigger than a large cat. But she knew that when she saw him again, he
would probably have at least doubled in size. She tried to remember all that
she could about him—the color of his skin, his exact dimensions, even how many
teeth he had. She gradually found herself longing to have the little creature
with her, and she began to despair over the possibility of never seeing him
again. Yet even as she despaired, she thanked Elohim for the opportunity that
she had had to know Feddir at all. She also prayed for protection for herself
and for all of the defenders of the city.

******

A shout jolted Senndra from her sleep, and
she jerked her head up. One glance told her that the dwarves were preparing
themselves for another attack, so she jumped to her feet. She glanced at
Timothy and Vladimir and saw that they were yawning and rubbing their eyes. Turning
back to the battle, she nocked an arrow and drew it back to her ear. From the
remaining flames of the stream, a single dwarf carrying a white flag approached
the defenders. Senndra held her fire at the sight of the white flag and slowly
released the tension on the bowstring. The dwarf walked to within shouting
distance of the defenders and began to speak.

“Citizens of Magessa, the enemy of the
dark lord Molkekk, lend me your ears. You are being pressed from the front by
more than one hundred thousand soldiers. We are certain that no reinforcements
will come and we know that you are lacking in numbers. But the dark lord has
ordered us to offer you terms of peace. If you will but lay down your weapons
and surrender yourselves to our army, we will spare all of you. You will be
made subjects of lord Molkekk, but you will be treated well. You will find
yourselves just as well off as you were before. We do not want to needlessly
slaughter you here. What say you to these terms of peace?”

No one answered for a few seconds. They
had not expected an offer of peace from Molkekk, and it stunned them into
silence. Finally someone spoke up.

“You lie!” he shouted at the dwarf. “You
said that you do not want to needlessly slaughter us here, but I know that you
would much rather do that than spare us. Now leave before you are shot where
you stand.”

“It is true that we used to be a violent
people that would rather kill than take prisoners,” the dwarf answered, “but
the lord Molkekk has changed us. Now we would rather offer you mercy at the
order of our lord.”

“And what about Elohim?” the same defender
shouted. “Why have you forsaken him for an inferior lord? We all know that
Elohim could squish Molkekk between his thumb and forefinger if he wanted.”

“Then why hasn’t he?” the dwarf asked. “It
is because Elohim is nonexistent. He is a myth that was invented to frighten
small children into doing what they were told and to give the people of Magessa
hope. Give me one example of when he has shown that he lives. You cannot, for
there is none.

“The lord Molkekk, on the other hand, is
quite alive. He has been seen by thousands of people and has even fought
against you in times past. He has a lineage traceable back to the earliest
times, and he will last for eternity. He is the true ruler of Magessa, and none
will stand in his way. You can either move aside and surrender, or be crushed
into oblivion.”

“He is shaking the confidence of our
people,” Timothy noted to Senndra. “Shoot him before he does any more damage.”

Without waiting for another command,
Senndra drew back her arrow and let it fly at the dwarf. It approached him from
the side, and he never even saw it before it slammed into his head, penetrating
his brain. He slumped sideways, his white flag crumpled beneath him.

“Well, get ready for all hell to break
loose,” Vladimir said. “You can bet that after that we won’t get another offer
of peace.”

Within minutes, Vladimir’s prediction came
true. The dwarves formed themselves into a solid wall and rushed at the
defenders. Three volleys of arrows hit the dwarves before they reached the
ranks of Magessa. But for every dwarf that fell, another stepped up to take his
place. The attack fell back slightly under the rain of arrows, but eventually
the defenders grew tired and the arrows faltered. Again the dwarves attacked,
but this time they were being covered by their own crossbow men. The soldiers
that tried to fire at the attackers were cut down by the deadly hail of enemy
arrows.

“There’s no chance that we can hold them
here,” Vladimir yelled over the ruckus of battle. “There’s too many of them
even if we were able to shoot at them.”

“Well, we’re not leaving until we get the
order,” Timothy shouted back. “We’re not abandoning our post.”

“We’ll get cut down once the enemy reaches
us,” Vladimir commented. He peeked over the barricade to check the dwarves’
advancement.

“The enemy cross bows will cut us down if
we try to run,” Timothy countered. “At least we’ll be safe from arrows once we
get among the dwarves.”

“That’s a small comfort,” Senndra muttered
as she slid her sword from the scabbard on her back. She ran her finger down
the blade, feeling every imperfection. Just touching the blade instilled
courage in her. Her father had wielded this very sword in battle many times and
never once shrank from his duty. Not even when it cost him his life in a battle
with Molkekk did he run, and Senndra promised herself that she would wield the
sword with equal valor. The enemies of Elohim would learn to fear it again.

“Get ready,” Timothy said. He peeked over
the top of the barricade. “They’re almost here,” he said and sat down again.

“How close?” Vladimir asked. A dwarf
vaulted over the barricade and Timothy leaped to his feet and took off his head
with a single swipe.

“They’re pretty blasted close,” he said
and turned to hold back the flood of dwarves flowing over the barricade.
Vladimir and Senndra sprang to their feet and pressed their backs against
Timothy’s, forming a triangle. The three companions battled the vicious dwarves
with all of their energy, swinging and parrying until their arms ached. Still
they knew that if they let down their guard, not only would they die, but it
would mean the death of their friends as well.

The dwarves didn’t know how to handle the
presence of three seemingly unbeatable enemies. They threw themselves at the
three warriors time and time again, but nothing could break past their flashing
swords. After what seemed like an eternity, the dwarves fell back and allowed a
circle of empty ground around the defenders. Senndra dropped her sword point to
the ground, but kept her eyes on the enemy. She could sense that something was
about to happen, and she didn’t think it was going to be good. To the north,
the dwarves’ crossbow men were moving toward where the defenders were entrenched
behind the seventh barrier. A dozen of them stopped when they reached the empty
ground, loaded their bows, and prepared to fire.

Timothy swore and covered his face with
his hand. Vladimir was focused intently on something in front of him, and
Senndra was the only one to act. She stabbed her sword into the ground and
grabbed her bow from where she had slung it on her back. A skill that was
largely considered useless, but that she had learned at the academy came to
mind. She turned the bow horizontal, grabbed two arrows from her quiver, and
with skill that could only be acquired from hours of practice, placed them both
on the string. She pulled back the string and, without waiting to aim, let the
arrows fly. One of them missed the archers entirely, but the other buried
itself in the arm of one of them. A split second later, Senndra had three
arrows on the string and let them fly again. This time one of them hit a dwarf
full in the face, dropping him instantly. The remaining two glanced off the
armor of other archers. Senndra reached back for more arrows, but her quiver
was exhausted. With an air of dejection, she turned toward the archers and
watched as the remaining ones lifted their crossbows and took aim.

“Fire!”

The command came from behind Senndra, and
she glanced back in time to see several dozen arrows streak past her and her
friends. The deadly barrage knifed through the dwarf archers, dropping them
like flies. Senndra grabbed her sword, and she and her friends turned and fled
back toward the safety of the barricade; however, they found their way blocked
by a group of dwarves that had turned to face them. Timothy and Vladimir looked
at each other, shrugged, and each jerked a knife from his belt and threw it at
the dwarves. Both projectiles hit their targets, opening a hole in the dwarf
line. Within seconds, Timothy, Vladimir, and Senndra had taken advantage of it.
With drawn swords, they hacked their way through the dwarf army to where the
defenders were trying desperately to hold the barricade. Their task was made
easier by the fact that most of the dwarves were facing the defenders and were
unable to protect themselves. In less than a minute, the companions had gained
the relative safety of the barricade and immediately turned around and helped
to hold the dwarves back. Time seemed to disappear as they swung, parried, and
killed. Senndra slowly felt herself relax, and her learned reflexes took over.
She tried to imagine that she was not battling for her life, but that she was
fighting her friends in friendly combat. As she did, her movements became more
fluid and she was able to gain the upper hand. Previously, she had been trying
simply to survive; now she was able to hold her own against the dwarves much
more easily. A dwarf approached Timothy from the back and raised his ax to
strike, but he never had a chance. Senndra disemboweled him with a swift stroke
then brought the blade around and plunged it into a dwarf that was threatening
her.

Slowly the attack began to lessen, and
finally the dwarves pulled back from the barricade. The defenders knew that to
follow would be suicide, so they stayed where it was safe. As the archers
peppered the dwarves until they were out of range, Senndra searched for arrows
and found the quiver of a deceased dwarf. She took it from the body, brought it
back to the wall, and laid an arrow on the string. By this time, the defending
archers had turned their attention to the advancing line of crossbow dwarves.
Commanders rushed up and down the barricade, forming the archers into groups.
As one would fire, another was reloading so as to keep up a constant barrage of
arrows. The crossbow dwarves marched steadily toward the defenders until they
were within range of the bowmen. Every crossbowman had an arrow on his string,
but still the command to fire was withheld; and still the dwarves drew nearer.
Senndra bit her lip and tried to hold her emotions in check, but the calmness
she had recently experienced when fighting hand-to-hand was now replaced by
tension and impatience. The dwarves were finally able to fire on the defenders
and raised their crossbows and took aim.