The Fate of the Dwarves - By Markus Heitz Page 0,43

he told himself, might have been a gift from some magic being. Or perhaps there were metals used in its composition able to store protective magic for the wearer. That will have been why Goda’s investigative spell had not worked. These metals would not notice the difference between a friendly touch and an attack. If it wasn’t Tungdil, why didn’t he kill me? On the contrary, he went to fetch a healer for me.

Ireheart sighed. All the same, his best friend seemed so alien to him. Different. Those cycles spent in the dark had wrought terrible changes in the Scholar. He had once driven out the demon alcohol successfully enough, but how do you rid the mind of what it has experienced?

“I’ll get my old Tungdil back,” he vowed, remembering how the three of them—his twin brother, himself and Tungdil—used to sit, beer in hand, laughing together, telling jokes and fooling around. He remembered how they had chased the orcs, how they’d sat under a tree to shelter from the rain, telling stories and making up things to tease each other with, how they had fought against the long-uns. How things used to be. “Vraccas and I will shake the darkness out of him.”

The ubari raised his telescope to see how much damage the catapults were achieving. “They’ve dealt with the first wave of beasts, General,” he reported. “But I can see that the next…” He stopped. “No. It’s not monsters. It’s something else,” he said excitedly.

“The kordrion?” Ireheart took the wax ear plugs out of his pouch in readiness. All the soldiers had orders to use these to protect themselves from being paralyzed by the terrible roar of the winged monster. The catapults must not stop firing if the kordrion was threatening to emerge.

“No, more like…” The ubari passed him the telescope. “Have a look for yourself, General.”

The dwarf squinted through the lens and tried to make out what was happening in the dark cleft of the abyss. “Some construction, long, narrow and tall,” he reported for Goda’s benefit. “It looks as if it’s made out of bones. Or very light-colored wood. And they’re keeping it behind the rock walls.”

“An assault tower?” suggested the ubari. “Or a stack of storm ladders?”

“Probably,” said Goda. “It would be the only way to conquer the fortress.”

Ireheart adjusted the end of the telescope to improve the focus. If he were not mistaken, the construction was being bent back. “They’re pulling it back… like a bow,” he called out. “Tell the men on the catapults to aim for the middle of the abyss,” he ordered the ubari. “I don’t want that… thing shooting at us. Who knows what they’re planning.”

While his commands were being conveyed to the troops by bugle signals, the beasts on the other side were acting fast.

Ireheart saw the construction shoot forward like a young tree held down under tension. Behind it, four long chains were thrown up into the air. White balls hung from them, each perhaps a full pace in diameter, and they had the appearance of spun cocoons. At the height of their trajectory the chains released them and the balls hurtled toward Evildam.

“Much too high,” commented the ubari, grinning. “Stupid beasts! Too dumb to aim straight.”

The nearer the strange spheres came the more obvious it was that they really were composed of spun threads.

“No, they intend them to go that high,” countered Ireheart. “They’ll come down behind the fortress! Tell the crews on the southwest ramparts to find out what happens when they come down. Maybe it’s a diversionary tactic to keep us busy on both sides.” He directed his gaze to Goda. “Can you stop them?”

She tilted her head and thought hard. “Wouldn’t it be better to wait and see? It might just be a harmless distraction and then I’d have wasted my powers on something trivial.”

Ireheart agreed and ordered the catapults to aim flaming arrows at the cocoons to send them up in a blaze. He watched what happened.

One of the shots was so true that it hit a ball in mid-flight. Flames consumed the sphere as if it had been soaked in petroleum; Ireheart heard the sizzling and crackling sound it made.

The casing turned to ash in the blink of an eye, releasing countless long-legged spider-like creatures the size of small dogs; they rained down, already fully aflame, crashing to the ground and causing a shower of sparks.

Most were destroyed by the fire, but three survived. They raced toward the bastion on their hairy