Michael Stackpole - When Dragons Rage

The youth froze. The ball struck him solidly in the chest, tumbling him back two dozen feet. A great cry rose from the Aurolani lines and the dragonel crew heartily congratulated itself.

Then the Adept struggled to his feet. He wove unsteadily, but appeared to draw strength from the cheers of the spectators high on the walls. He staggered over to where the ball lay steaming on the ground, then lifted it awkwardly. He waddled off with the thing suspended between his knees.

Naelros shot to his feet and snarled at the dragonel crew. The gibberers mewed and hid themselves behind their weapon. The dracomorph turned his head and looked at her. “He will use the metal from the ball to shape wards to deflect anything with a similar content, will he not?”

Isaura nodded. “If all the balls are from the same crucible, or the ore was mined in the same place, they would be effective.”

“But not wholly.”

“After what I saw here, I could not judge.”

The dracomorph nodded slowly. “This changes things.” He settled back onto his heels. “This changes many things.”

The calm that bled into his voice surprised her. “He has slain a sullanciri and is very powerful. You cannot be thinking to continue the siege.”

Naelros fixed her with a dark stare. “He is powerful, but not the most powerful. He has changed things, so shall we. With proper aid, your mother shall be pleased, and Nawal will be mine.”

Svarskya lay before Adrogans, broken and old. Houses sagged. Towers had collapsed, crushing buildings and raising stone scars across the landscape. The outer city had once been beautiful, and the walls surrounding it almost ornamental. Those walls remained largely ornamental, having been long since overgrown and covered with snow. So many gaps had been worn in the outer ring that one could not easily follow its line with the eye. It would have been simple to mistake it for hillocks.

Nothing moved in the outer city. That, Adrogans reminded himself, did not mean nothing waited there. The sprawl stood a half mile thick at its narrowest point, and quadruple that at its widest. In the quarter century since its conquest, the streets had shifted as new buildings were raised and old were razed, but the various routes to the old city were still obvious.

The old inner city, which had grown around the docks, still boasted towers and tall walls. Prince Kirill’s evacuation of the city had let the Aurolani take it without requiring its destruction. Consequently, Adrogans could easily imagine its splendor in the previous era, but he doubted he would ever see it look so grand again.

General Caro rode up. “We are ready to go when you are, General.”

Adrogans snorted. “We might well wait forever then, for I do not know if I will ever be ready.” He glanced up at Nefrai-kesh’s tower, where flickers of flame flashed from windows with a certain regularity. “What are you thinking?”

Phfas laughed harshly. “A question you should put to him when your sword is at his throat.”

“If we can get that far, Uncle.” Adrogans’ constant companion, Pain, offered him nothing. She did not cling to him or claw him, but merely rested against his back as if she were a tired child given to his care, not the embodiment of physical torment. With combat looming, she should have been at her most fierce, anxious for the orgy of agonies.

The potential slaughter had Adrogans’ mind racing. Any of the snow-covered hovels could have been packed with firedirt. If he sent tight formations into the city, an explosion would kill hundreds. If he spread them out to forestall that from happening, concentrated Aurolani forces would overwhelm his thin lines and slaughter his warriors. And if he has enough firedirt to make all those hovels explode, my entire army will die .

On the one hand, the Aurolani hardly needed to defend the outer city since the walls of the inner city still held. Adrogans’ swift advance had outstripped the chance of any siege machinery being brought up. And while the outer city would yield enough lumber and rock to build such things, that would take time. Since the Aurolani could be resupplied by sea, time worked in their favor.

It could have been that Nefrai-kesh desired nothing more sinister than buying time. The problem Adrogans had with that was that Nefrai-kesh could have bought a lot more time by the proper use of troops in previous battles. If he had strongly garrisoned the Svar Bridge, taking it would have won time and chewed up a lot of Adrogans’ troops. And if boombags had been used there, there would be no counting the cost. Come spring, he could have crushed what was left of my forces .

There were many contingencies for which Adrogans could not account. While arcanslata reports did keep him informed in general terms about the eastern front, he had no true sense of how many of Chytrine’s troops were being diverted there. It was quite possible that Nefrai-kesh would not be reinforced. In fact, it could have been that his troops were being drawn away to be used in Muroso. The conquest of Sebcia could have hurt Chytrine much more than anyone knew.

He looked over at Caro. “Does his giving us the outer city make any sense to you?”

The Alcidese commander shook his head, then tipped his helmet back. “All the discussions we have had have failed to explain his reasoning. My greatest fear is that he wants us in the city because it cuts down our ability to maneuver and he can infiltrate troops among us. Worse, if we are drawn into certain lines of attack and he is able to bring a dragon to his side, we are undone.”

Adrogans nodded. “But after the last dragon was slain at Fortress Draconis, Chytrine has not used one. Her control may not be good, or there may be few she can control with as little of the Crown as she has. If one were to be employed against us, though, it would have been used at the bridge or the Three Brothers. Still, you have a point. If we see one, we must push our forces into the Aurolani forces and make it hesitate.“

Phfas cackled. “He did not hesitate with boombags.”

Caro winced. “A good point. Nefrai-kesh seems fairly intent on killing us by whatever means.”

“I would accept that but…” Adrogans gestured boldly at the outer city. “There is not so much as a flag flying outside the inner city walls.”

“I like the paradox no more than you do. It suggests he has a surprise in store.”

“The only surprises I like in combat are the ones I create.” Adrogans sighed. He glanced right at the new bugler. “Signalman, general advance.”

The horn sounded and the army of liberation started forward. Adrogans had arrayed it in a wide line. He had his infantry set up in ranks five deep, which meant they had a greater frontage than normal. The Svoin Irregulars actually ranged out in front of the professional soldiers. They moved in a ragged line, clearly eager to enter the capital.

Behind the infantry came the cavalry, and it maintained its tighter formations. When Nefrai-kesh sprang his trap, Adrogans wanted to be able to hit hard with a mobile force. The cavalry oriented on the larger roads, and Adrogans assumed that if there were going to be boom traps, those would be the most likely spots for them. That’s where he would put them were he defending the city, so Adrogans had to hope the infantry screen could locate and destroy any traps before the cavalry would ride into the city.

Everyone moved forward smoothly. Adrogans noted no alarm or extra activity on the inner city walls. Banners fluttered and sentries marched. If they saw anything, or heard the bugle call, they gave no sign. A few spectators did appear on the walls to watch the advance, but they appeared calm.