Richard Knaak - The Fire Rose

Those attacking the mastark took advantage of the new chaos by finishing the animal. The dying beast let out a trumpeting cry before collapsing upon several defenders unable to get out of its unpredictable path.

Even as the other mastarks were kept at bay, the traitors’ beasts moved in to further harass the surviving defenders. The lead officer urged his mount toward the line of pikes.

But the pikes were already beleaguered by their own mastarks running amok behind them. Instead of ordering his pikes to take on the traitor’s beasts, Jod’s second-in-command had to herd his warriors together to protect themselves from their own.

The archers on the walls, and the catapults behind them, were the most effective weapons that the defenders had against the traitors and their horned allies. The commanding officer grunted with satisfaction as another boulder struck his foes. At least Sadurak had one weapon that the traitors could not neutralize.

Suddenly a cracking sound emanated from the other side of the fight, and shouts and cries came from the defenders. Several fell to the side as a huge wooden missile hurtled through their ranks. It was followed by a second, and a third.

Golgren’s ogres knew of the mechanical weapons of the Uruv Suurt. Usually the ballistae were found aboard imperial warships and used to rake the decks and sails, or rip holes in hulls. The ogres had heard of their possible use on land, yet none had believed it practical.

Even if only a few fighters actually perished or were merely wounded by the fusillade, the effect of seeing the ballistae in action added yet another element of shock.

There was no choice but for the remaining defenders to pull back into Sadurak as best they could. The commanding officer managed to sound the signal for retreat; the surviving archers on the walls gave cover fire as the harassed warriors fled through the guarded gates.

As soon as the gates were barred, Jod’s second in command ran up to the walls to take measure of the situation. The defenders felt much of their confidence return inside. They had tasted the traitors’ magic once, but the attackers had relied on physical strength and strategy since. Against those, Sadurak could surely stand.

The commanding officer urged more and more archers to the walls, even those who were not as proficient as he would have desired. What mattered was to make any advance toward the gates costly. That would drain even the morale of the Uruv Suurt.

The walls suddenly shook as though the earth were quaking. A few of the warriors lining the top fell.

The defenders froze, aware that the tremor was no natural occurrence. Another rocked the walls. From the southern region, a warning horn sounded.

The senior officer raced to where he could see what was happening. He and others stared in amazement as two mastarks rammed their helmeted heads into the walls’ stone. The veteran warrior thought the beasts’ handlers mad until he recognized that particular section of wall. It was one of those most recently renovated with some of the more inferior stone from the quarries-Jod could only take what the quarries produced.

A warning horn sounded from nearer the gates. Jod’s second in command leaped down to another officer. Sending him to gather warriors to defend the likely breach in the south, he readied his own force behind the cracking area by the gate, signaling the catapults to lob boulders just over the walls as best they could.

But as the crews struggled to maneuver the unwieldy weapons, another thundering crash struck near Sadurak’s gates. Huge blocks of stone tumbled in, crushing two sentries and sending an archer atop the gates plummeting to his doom.

It was not a mastark that had struck the fatal blow to the wall, but another missile from the ballistae. A second blast struck home even as the defenders were recovering from the first, the huge, wooden projectile smashing into the rock right where the largest faults had spread.

The defenders’ catapults were of dubious use, for the enemy was too close. The senior officer mustered his fighters as the enemies poured through. Both ogres and minotaurs rushed through the makeshift entrance, eager to be the first to claim blood inside Sadurak.

Jod’s fighters met them, their desperate momentum briefly shoving the attackers back to the wall. A moment later, more than two dozen corpses lay under the struggling feet of the combatants, and the ranks of the dead doubled with each new clash.

On the walls, some of the archers turned to fire upon the intruders, but they proved as deadly a menace to their own. Jod’s second in command roared for them to aim their shots outside, but his voice was drowned out by the battle and by the recurring thunder of the walls being bombarded.

A sudden surge by the attackers forced the defenders back again. Legionaries and traitors flowed into Sadurak like a river of death.

Among them came a young warrior around whom the other traitors seemed to unite.

As with Jod, the senior officer knew the face of the ogre warrior: Atolgus. He once had been considered as loyal to Golgren as Sadurak’s commander, but clearly led the traitors. As was plain even to his enemies, Atolgus fought with a speed and skill astonishing for a chieftain so young.

Jod’s second in command bared his teeth as he charged at the rebel leader. Atolgus would be rewarded for his betrayal with his head atop a pole.

The veteran warrior slashed his way past an eager traitor wielding an axe. The young chieftain, in the process of dispatching one of the guards, appeared oblivious to his advance. Jod’s second in command lunged toward the traitor as he neared, certain that he could put a quick end to Atolgus and, if he was any judge of battles, the momentum of the attack.

Even though Atolgus had appeared to pay him no mind, the rebel leader’s sword suddenly whirled around to meet the other ogre’s. The startled commander stumbled back as his target beat down his weapon.

“Jod is dead! Surrender and bow to me!” Atolgus demanded with a fierce smile.

“Golgren is my master!” retorted the other. “As he was yours!”

The traitorous figure laughed. His foe flinched as Atolgus’s glaring eyes shone gold at the edges and his pupils seemed to all but fade away.

“Golgren is dead,” Atolgus replied. “He is f’hanos.”

Although certain his adversary was lying, the loyal officer could not help reacting angrily. He lunged again at Atolgus.

The younger warrior easily beat back the second attack, and thrust his blade deep into the shoulder of his adversary’s sword arm. The older ogre lost his grip on his weapon.

Atolgus added a second wound to the officer’s other shoulder. As the latter struggled, Atolgus set the point of his blade at his foe’s throat.

“Sadurak is falling,” the young ogre said, staring off as if speaking to some invisible figure. “She will be pleased that he is pleased.”

Jod’s second in command had a good understanding of Common, but what Atolgus had said made no sense at all to him. He also knew that the young chieftain had not spoken so crisply in the other tongue when they had last met.

With a wide grin, Atolgus repeated, “Golgren is f’hanos.” He raised his blade and brought it down with such swiftness that no one could have dodged the blow. “But he does not know that yet.”

Jod’s second in command did not reply, for his head was no longer attached to his neck. Atolgus watched with mild interest as the head rolled several feet away from the collapsing torso, before he eagerly moved on to finish the taking of the city.

Another with a loyalty to Golgren and an antipathy to Atolgus angrily stalked across the unforgiving landscape of old Blode with his tiny troop, wondering all the while if it was to be his destiny to perish so ignominiously out in the wilds.