Guardians of Magessa (The Birthright Chronicles Book 1) (32 page)

******

Timothy continued to run throughout the
night and into the next day. His lips were parched from the lack of water, and
his muscles screamed for relief, but he wouldn’t—he couldn’t—stop. He was
beginning to lose his sense of balance so that he staggered as he ran. The
exertion was also having effects on his eyesight, causing his vision to come
and go, but he still pushed himself onward. His mind began to wander due to his
weariness, dredging up events that he had not even considered in years. Finally
the whirlwind of thoughts settled on the comrade that he had left behind. He
didn’t know what would become of him or if he would survive. He had done what
he could for him by leaving the food and water behind, but his conscience still
troubled him. He would have to have a search party sent out to look for him
when he reached the academy.

He came to a stream and saw a ford that
was a hundred yards upstream from where he was. After only a moment of thought,
he ran into the knee-deep water, ignoring the shallower water at the ford. In
no time he was on the other side of the stream and running again. He tried to
remind himself of the message that he was supposed to deliver to the people at the
academy when he got there, but his brain could not conjure it up. As he
concentrated, his pace slowed, and he was able to think more clearly as more
oxygen was directed to his brain. In one massive rush, it all came back to him.
He remembered the battle at Saddun and the dwarf army; that was his mission, to
bring news to the academy. With that question out of the way, he turned his
attention once again to his running. He noticed that his pace had slowed, but
when he tried to speed up, his legs tangled and he fell to the ground. He tried
to rise to his feet, but utter exhaustion prevented him from completing this
simple action. With magic, he reached out to the surrounding area to summon
anyone near to his aid. To his surprise, he made contact and was able to send
out his plea for help.

The use of magic sapped the last of his
energy reserves, and he lost consciousness. He slept for a long time, having
the weirdest dreams. He was prodded from his unconsciousness by the same mind
he had contacted previously, and he slowly and painfully lifted his head.
Through his sleep-blurred eyes, he saw a large blue shape dropping toward him
from the sky. Two more shapes, one red and the other yellow, circled in the sky
above him. His last thought before he lost consciousness again was that these
were dragons, though the significance of that fact was lost on him.

******

Senndra sat atop a pile of rubble that had
once been part of the northern wall of Saddun. She ignored her surroundings as
she stared out across the plain to where she could just barely make out the top
of a mountain that stood alone beside the Pelé River. “
So this was Mt.
Nebal, the dwarf fortress,”
she thought. It didn’t look like it could
contain the entirety of the dwarf army that had attacked Saddun, but it didn’t
have to. Senndra had dug several old manuscripts on the subject out of the
library, a building that had miraculously not been seriously damaged in the
battle. Most of the manuscripts did not contain the information she was trying
to locate, as they had been written after the dwarves had alienated themselves
from Magessa. There was, however, one scroll that had been written before the
dwarves’ separation, and though Senndra had trouble reading it due to the old
writing style, it was the only source she had. According to this scroll, though
Mt. Nebal was a large mountain, it did not have very many natural caverns. And
since the dwarves had done little more than connect them together with tunnels,
there was not very much room inside the mountain. Though this seemed to
indicate that the dwarves could not have come from Mt. Nebal, the manuscript
revealed more information that contradicted this theory. The mountain might not
have very much room in it, but the ground surrounding it was honeycombed with tunnels.
Also, according to rumors, the dwarves had dug a tunnel that stretched all the
way from a mountain range to the northeast to Mt. Nebal. Therefore, though the
dwarves living in Mt. Nebal had not supplied all of the soldiers for the
attacking army, it seemed likely that it was the staging point for the attack.

In reading about the dwarf mountain
fortress, Senndra had become engrossed in the topic of dwarves and read several
other books about them. Again, the information in the more recent volumes was scant,
and she was forced to resort to struggling through the older, harder-to-read
scrolls. She was, however, able to extract several interesting facts about
dwarves that she had not known before. After she emerged from the library, her
brain brimming with the new information, she walked to the northern wall of the
city to find a place to sit down and think.

“Hi, Senndra. What are you doing?” a voice
behind her asked.

Senndra turned to look at the intruder and
was confronted by a beautiful girl with long black hair and green eyes. Her
skin was a shade darker than most of the people of Magessa, marking her as the
descendant of a foreigner. Senndra knew that she recognized her from somewhere,
but was still unsure who she was. Finally it flashed into her mind; her escape
from the brooding Rita had crossed her path with the girl that now stood before
her. She was, as Senndra recalled, one of the kitchen maids of Saddun, though
she could not recall her name.

“Just sitting here looking at the
scenery,” Senndra replied. “You want to join me?”

“I guess,” the girl said and climbed onto
the rocks next to Senndra. “What were you thinking about?” she asked when she
had gotten herself settled.

“Nothing really,” Senndra answered. “I was
just contemplating some information that I found in the library—some stuff
about dwarves.”

“Really?” the girl said. “I just love that
building. I’m glad it wasn’t destroyed in the battle. Did you find anything
interesting there?”

“I found a lot that was interesting, but
not much that was of any practical help, I’m afraid,” Senndra answered with a
short laugh. “For one thing, it seems like no one really knows much of anything
about the dwarves.”

“Well, they have been rather reclusive for
more than a hundred years now,” the girl responded. “I’m surprised that you
found anything that was of use.”

“Well, the only manuscript that I put much
stock in was one that was a hundred and fifty years old,” Senndra said.
“Besides the fact that the language of that period is extremely hard to read, I
figure that the information might be a bit out of date. As for the books that
were written more recently, they gave only very vague information, and what
specifics they contained, I have severe doubts about trusting.”

“I’m sorry you didn’t find anything more
helpful,” the girl said. Then she added, “I go there a lot; I might be able to
help you find what you’re looking for. You know, something that is a little bit
more helpful.”

“Thank you. That would be very kind,”
Senndra said. She wondered what to say next, but the girl took care of that.

“I heard that you came from another
academy in Magessa,” she said.

“The dragon rider academy in Belvárd,”
Senndra agreed. When she saw the clueless look on the other girl’s face, she
expounded, “It’s located in the Apathy Range up at the top of the district.”

“So you live in the mountains?” the girl
asked. When Senndra nodded, she continued, “What is it like living up there?”

“The scenery is amazing,” Senndra
answered. “When the sun is shining and the sky is clear, you can see for miles.
The mountain range is especially beautiful from that high up. Even if a storm
is moving in, the sight is still breathtaking. The storm clouds with lightning
flashing between them as they approach the mountains are stunning to watch.
There…there just aren’t really any words to explain it.”

“What about actually living up there?” the
girl asked. “Is it any different from living down here on the plain?”

“Well, for one thing, the air up there is
much thinner than it is down here,” Senndra said. “That makes exercise much
more difficult. But it also prepares us for when we are ready to ride our
dragons. Actually, our dragons routinely go quite a bit higher than the
academy, but that just emphasizes the need for our exercise in a high altitude.

“Other than that slight difference, I
would say that life there is pretty much the same as life in this academy. Of
course we have classes every day where we learn to fight, make decisions, and
think clearly. That is pretty much what I do all day. But enough about me…what
is life as a kitchen maid like? I would imagine it isn’t a whole lot like my
life.”

“No, not much like your life at all,” the
girl said. “I don’t even cook or anything like that; I clean the dishes and
floors. My father decided that it would be a good idea for me to learn to be a
cook, so he apprenticed me to the head chef here. I don’t think it was ever the
intention of the chef to teach me how to cook, though, so I guess I will be
stuck cleaning my whole life until I get married. If I ever get married, that
is.” The girl muttered the last part so quietly that Senndra barely heard it.

“Why do you say that?” she asked. “I mean,
a whole lot of young men come through here, after all, and you can’t be more
than sixteen.”

“I’m nineteen,” the girl stated. “Actually,
I’m almost twenty, but it’s not the age that makes me say that. It’s just that
several girls, all my age, were apprenticed at about the same time as me. All
of them met boys that they fell in love with and married, but it just hasn’t
happened for me. I guess it is kind of stupid for me to think that way, but I
do anyway.”

“Look here,” Senndra said, pulling on the
girl’s chin so that her head turned to face her. “Don’t worry about it so much.
You haven’t found anyone yet because the right person hasn’t shown up yet. I
know that there is someone out there for you, and you have to be willing to
wait until you meet that person. If you try to create that person, and end up
marrying someone just so that you can marry someone, you’ll never be happy with
the situation."

“Granted, I am younger than you,"
Senndra continued, "but I think the same way you do sometimes. Maybe
that’s a stage that everyone goes through. I don’t know. But what I do know is
that if we wait for the right person, all of that waiting will be worth it.”

“But what makes you so certain that there
is such a person in the world?” the girl asked. “Don’t you think there’s a
possibility there just isn’t anyone for me?”

“It’s possible I suppose,” Senndra
answered, “but if that’s the case, I don’t think you would ever be happy with
anyone anyway. In this case, you just need to let go and trust Elohim to guide
you. After all, He knows what is best for you, and He’ll take care of you the
whole way.”

“Elohim?” the other girl asked. “I think
I’ve heard about Him. He’s supposed to be the god of Magessa, right?”

“Not just the god of Magessa, but
the
God of the whole world,” Senndra said.

“But my father told me all of that was
just for young children to believe,” the girl said.

“I can’t convince you, but I know someone
who can,” Senndra said. “One of my instructors who is here has been having
meetings for unbelievers to discuss exactly this sort of thing with them. If
anyone can answer your questions, he’s the one. You should come to one of his
meetings.”

“I’ll think about it,” the girl said and
stood to her feet. “It’s time for me to get back to work, so I guess I’ll see
you around?”

Senndra nodded and waved good-bye to the
girl. Lydia. That was the girl's name. Why could she never remember these
things when she needed to remember them?

Josiah crouched behind a large boulder
with a handful of soldiers. His two messengers were with him, prepared to carry
his orders to the rest of his command if he chose. But at the moment, they had
their swords out and were ready to fight. The rain had ceased an hour ago, just
in time for the rising of the sun, which shone over their shoulders and into
the dwarf army. At least the enemy archers would find it harder to shoot
straight. The dwarf army stretched at least fifty across, and their first line
alone was almost impressive enough to frighten Josiah into retreat. But he had
chosen this place to make the final stand, so this was to be where they would
ultimately be victorious or be defeated. The dwarves had apparently not seen
their opponents yet and were marching straight for the ford.

Josiah peeked over the boulder again and
saw that the first of the enemy was already entering the river, so he made the
sign that would set in motion the first phase of a plan that he and his
advisors had come up with only an hour earlier. A few dozen soldiers rose from
where they were hiding and formed a very thin line between the two rocks where
the dwarves would have to pass. Some of the dwarves hesitated at the audacity
of the humans, but they kept coming. Logic dictated that there was no way the
humans could hold off the attack; however, they stood resolutely in the gap
waiting for the dwarves. The dwarves surged over the last few yards between the
armies and hit the defending line with all of their might. Josiah had chosen
these soldiers so that they would not run and would be able to hold their
ground, and he had chosen well. As he watched, the line of humans bowed, but
did not break, staving off the dwarves for a moment; however, they would soon
be overcome. Josiah raised his hand again and signaled for the second part of
his plan to commence. The archers, who had been hiding along the riverbanks and
around the ford, rose from their positions and fired a volley of arrows into
the dwarf ranks. That cut their numbers back, but not by much. The archers
broke for the boulder field on the east side of the river and took cover in it.

The dwarves had fallen back at the volley
of arrows, but they were not to be defeated so easily. They quickly formed a
more organized line and charged again, bringing the full might of their army to
bear against the humans. Though they outnumbered the humans, the narrowness of
the ford prevented them from surrounding the defenders and all they could do
was push the humans further up onto the river bank. The humans slowly gave way
as the members of their line began to drop one by one until the dwarves had
forced their way completely out of the river and onto its bank. As the dwarves
began to circle around the edges of their line, they broke ranks and sprinted
for the boulder field, where the archers were hiding. The dwarves were
surprised by the move and were therefore a dozen feet behind the retreating
humans when they started their pursuit. Already, the arrows of the defenders
were raining down on them, but they kept sprinting. Within seconds they would
overtake the archers’ position and cut them down. But just as they were nearing
their goal, a force of ogre and human infantry rose into view from the boulder
field and advanced toward them at a slow walk. Two other squads of ogres and
humans appeared from the field and hurried to positions on the right and left
sides of the attacking dwarves. Quickly they united their lines with the one in
front of the dwarves, forming a half-circle of troops around the dwarves and
blocking them from moving any direction except back into the river.

All of this happened so quickly that the
dwarves did not have time to take stock of the situation before they hit the
line of defenders in front of them. The humans and ogres stubbornly held their
ground long enough to hit the sides of the dwarf army. The dwarves were not
ready for this kind of complex strategy, and many of them sprinted for the
river. Only a few dwarves stayed to fight, and these were quickly overcome. The
dwarves jostled each other as they fled into the river, and many slid down the
steep banks and into the swiftly flowing current. They struggled against the
pull of their heavy armor to no avail and many were drowned.

The humans and ogres followed the dwarves
to the edge of the river and shouted taunts after them as they fled. Then they
turned back to take their positions for the fight they all knew might very well
end in all of their deaths. The archers moved to the edge of the river and
rained arrows into the dwarfish ranks, forcing them to fall back out of bow
range. The dwarves retaliated with a rain of arrows from their crossbows, but
the defenders had excellent cover, and only a few of the archers were injured.

“It’s very uncharacteristic of dwarves to
panic like that,” Benjamin said from his position at Josiah’s side. “I wonder
what caused them to do it.”

“Elohim,” Josiah responded. “He has been
watching over us. But even so, this battle will be tough. Only a few hundred of
the dwarves crossed the river this time, and we would have had trouble holding
them back if they had not panicked. I hate to think what will happen when they
attack all at once. There is no way that we can hold them off; we’ll have to
fall back to the high ground where the other archers are if worse comes to
worst.”

Josiah walked to where his troops had
taken up positions by the river and began to inspect their lines. Everyone
seemed to have minor injuries, but miraculously, there were no major ones. In
fact, the most serious injury had been caused by a soldier cutting himself as
he sharpened his sword the night before. Josiah stopped to talk to this
particular soldier, crouching down next to him as he did so.

“What’s your name, soldier?” he asked.

“Marcus, sir,” the soldier replied.

“How is your wound holding up, Marcus?”
Josiah asked.

“It’s doing fine, sir,” Marcus replied
holding up his left arm to reveal a nasty-looking gash running down it. “It
gave me a little bit of grief when we first started fighting, but the pain was
dull, and it went away after a while.”

“You think that you’re going to be able to
hold up for the rest of this battle?” Josiah asked.

“Yes sir, I’ll hold up until we defeat
these dwarves or until I die,” Marcus said. “Either way, I’m not going to let
down my fellow soldiers because of my wound.”

“Good man,” Josiah said as he rose to his
full height. He turned to continue down the line, but was confronted by one of
his messengers sprinting toward him from the river. As the boy got closer, he
saw that it was Jonathan.

“Sir, the dwarves are getting ready for
their second attack!” Jonathan said breathlessly.

“Already?” Josiah said in surprise. “I
would have thought they would lick their wounds for longer than that. Well, our
army is already in position, so let them come. I have new orders for you to
carry. First, have most of the infantry pull up to the ford where the enemy
will have to pass between those two rocks. If we have any chance of holding
them we will do it there. Second, have most of the archers gather near the
river. The boulder field is a good defense, but that will be our last stand.
That is all.”

Jonathan saluted and was off to deliver
the messages, leaving Josiah to make his way back to the ford. When he got
there, confusion ruled his previously organized troops as they scrambled to
form lines. Josiah pushed his way through the crowd and stood on a boulder.

“Silence!” he bellowed to his troops, but
it had no effect on them.

“Silence!” he shouted again, even louder,
and this time the soldiers closest to him quieted down.

“Line up with five men across this gap,”
he said, gesturing to the two rocks by the ford. “The dwarves have to come
through them, and if we can hold them here, we will take away the advantage of
their numbers.”

The soldiers seemed to regain their
composure and quickly moved into position until there were seven lines of five
people. Josiah jumped off of his boulder and strode back to where the majority
of the infantry was still in disarray. Grabbing a bugle from one of the
soldiers, he blasted a loud, long note until all of the soldiers had quieted
down. When he had their attention, he handed the bugle back and turned to
address the soldiers.

“This behavior is ridiculous,” he began.
“You were trained to carry on war in an orderly and organized fashion—not in
the state of hysteria that has ruled until now. I know that many of us may die
today, but if we are to have any chance of defeating the dwarves and walking
away from here alive, it will be because we fight in a calm and orderly
fashion. Now, I want you to form organized ranks behind the soldiers that are
already in position. If any of them fall or drop back to rest, it is your job
to step up and take their place. Do you understand?”

Josiah took the silence as an affirmative
reply, and he turned and trotted back to the front of the army. He climbed back
onto the boulder that he had vacated only minutes before and watched as the
soldiers formed ranks in a semi-orderly fashion. The archers were also finally
arriving, so Josiah motioned for his messenger Benjamin to join him. The boy
climbed onto the boulder with Josiah and waited for the message to be given.

“Tell the new archers to take position
behind the infantry,” Josiah said. “Their commander is given full authority
over when they will fire; however, tell him to have them conserve their
arrows.”

Benjamin hopped down from the boulder to
carry the message, and Josiah turned back to the dwarf army. The retreating
soldiers had fallen to the back of the army to regroup, and a new breed of
dwarves now faced Josiah’s army. Dwarf giants, the scourge of the dwarf army,
now composed the front several lines. These soldiers were all around six feet
tall, and they maintained the classic build of a dwarf. Their armor covered
their entire bodies, with the exception of their joints, and gruesome helmets
sat on their heads. In the way of weapons, each had a battle ax about as big as
the two-handed axes that the regular soldiers used; however, the giants carried
these weapons as though they were toys. They each also had a massive
hand-and-a-half sword that was at least five feet long.

Josiah looked back at the ranks of his
army and saw that many of them showed fear in the face of this new enemy. He
couldn’t think of any encouraging words to say, so he leaped lightly down from
the boulder and strode to the front line, where Jonathan was waiting for him.
Jonathan had his shield strapped to his back and held on his arm another
shield, this one painted pure black.

“This shield is a gift for you from the
ogres,” Jonathan said when Josiah reached him. He extended the shield toward
Josiah who took it carefully. The piece of armor was obviously made for an ogre
and was a bit too large for him, but it would work well. Even its weight was
well within the capacity of Josiah’s strength.

“Commander Looran sends it with his best
wishes,” Jonathan continued. “He worried that it might be too heavy, but he
hopes that you will take it into battle with you.”

“Indeed I will,” Josiah said and strapped
the shield onto his left arm. A few adjustments were needed, but soon the
shield fit almost as if it had been created for him.

“I also managed to find this to complete
your armor,” Jonathan said and held out a helmet that Josiah had not seen
before. Josiah took the headpiece and examined it. It was of orc workmanship
and covered the entire face with only two eye slits. A row of small spikes ran
from the top of the helmet down the back, but other than these, it was entirely
unadorned. Josiah placed the helmet on his head, and though the fit was a
little tight, he decided that it would work. The range of vision was much
better than he had expected, and small holes on the side of the helmet allowed
him to hear what was going on around him much better than a human helmet would
have.

With his armor properly adjusted, Josiah
took his place in the front line, and Jonathan stood next to him. Together they
waited for the dwarves to make their charge, and as they watched, a black cloud
rose from the rear of the army and arched through the sky toward them.

“Arrows!” someone shouted. “Shields up!”

The soldiers dropped to their knees, and
each man tucked himself behind his shield. The first arrows splashed into the
river, but soon they began to rain on the army of defenders, slamming into
their shields and bouncing off or occasionally sticking into them. The soldiers
hid behind their shields for several minutes as the rain of arrows gradually
lessened and finally stopped. Josiah stood to his feet along with the rest of
his army and looked across the river in defiance of the dwarves. Already the
giants were splashing into the river with a crazed battle cry; they would be
upon the defenders in moments. Josiah braced himself for the impact of the
enemy, but was still forced backward by the sheer force of the dwarf bodies
hitting his shield. The soldiers in the front line dug their feet into the
ground, but they slid across the soggy earth until they hit the shields of the
soldiers behind them. The soldiers in the second line dug in as well and pushed
as hard as they could against the might of the dwarves, but they were still not
enough to stop the advance of the enemy.

Josiah was getting pressed between his
shield and that of the man behind him, and he knew that if something didn’t
give soon, he would literally get the life crushed out of him. He collected
what was left of his breath and gave a strangled command to push, but he didn’t
know if anyone had heard him. In the following seconds, the pressure on him did
not let up, and he was convinced that his life would end here. But then he felt
a strong shove from behind that was moving him forward and throwing the dwarf
directly in front of him backward. He gulped in a lung of air and almost
simultaneously slashed his sword across the neck of the dwarf. With a flick of
his wrist, he jerked the blade down and slashed the dwarf across his waist. His
blade came away bloody, and he knew that the dwarf was dead even before he
collapsed to the ground.