Markus Heitz - The Fate of the Dwarves

“That’ll never happen. Those dead soldiers we found are evidence that he’s pursuing his own ends with every conceivable means.” Kiras lowered the telescope to look at Goda. A flash caught her eye and when she turned in its direction she saw that it came from the eastern battlements. One of the guards had polished his shield so well that it was dazzling her. She thought she could even feel the heat of the reflection it sent. “Is it true they’ve made him high king?”

The maga nodded. “And I thank Vraccas that I’m here in Evildam! This way I’m not subject to his commands.”

The undergroundling leaned against the parapet. “I wonder what happened to the real Tungdil: Dead, captive or has he become something even worse than this thing, this fraud calling himself the hero?”

Goda sighed. “There’s no way of knowing.”

Kiras suddenly brightened up and looked across at the red sphere. “What if we captured one of the monsters for interrogation? Can’t you make a hole in the screen big enough for me and a few ubariu?”

Goda found the idea ridiculous at first but, on reflection… “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Because you’ve got too much to think about. You have to command the fortress and be our maga, constantly on guard against sorcery.” Kiras offered this excuse with a smile, grasping Goda’s hands. “I don’t tell you this often enough: You are like a mother to me. I can never thank you enough for what you have done for me.”

“That’s why I shan’t find it easy to send you in there. Not only because of the monsters-there’s a magus over there as well. And who knows how long I’ll be able to hold the opening for you?” Goda shook her head. “No, we’ll drop that idea.”

A fanfare sounded, drawing their attention to the scene. The women picked up their telescopes.

A variety of creatures were running around, busy as ants, dragging stones to the places marked with pennants and building protective walls. Judging from the speed they were working at they had to be trying to get things completed by nightfall.

Elsewhere, large fat creatures with broad long-taloned paws were digging furiously. As soon as the holes had reached a certain depth they motioned over other workers to bring tubs of molten metal to tip in. Then long iron spikes were set at angles into the cooling substance.

“They’re making fixtures for siege machines.” Kiras surveyed the scene through her telescope.

“Catapults, I’d say. Like the one I destroyed that they were using down in the ravine.” Goda summoned one of the ubariu and asked his opinion; he agreed with her.

While they spoke, other beasts raced up behind the screen, dozens of them dragging huge long timbers. One of the fat monsters supervised their orderly construction and, bit by bit, the confused heap of wood became a siege tower.

“You were right,” said the maga to Kiras. “And over there they’re making an undercarriage for a battering ram.” She called for two of her children, Sanda and Bandaal, who she had been training up in magic skills. “We can’t wait any longer. The magic sphere must be held back before those machines can reach our walls.”

Kiras stared. “What are they doing?”

Goda looked down.

The monsters had half erected the first four siege towers, and then switched to the task of carrying stone blocks over and placing them on the wooden platforms; other workers brought long coils of rope, one end of which dangled back down into the ravine.

“Weights,” decided the undergroundling. “I don’t know what they’re for yet, but they look like counterweights.”

“They’ll be putting up a bigger catapult in the ravine itself, I suppose,” said the ubari soldier, screwing up his pink eyes to see better. “One of the beasts has got a white flag. He’s coming up to the gate.”

Goda assumed it was a herald come to negotiate. If it had not been for the barrier and the enemy magus she would have nailed the creature to the ground with a rain of arrows, then buried it under a rock the size of a house so that the brood of Tion could see what the dwarves had in store for all of them. But in the present situation this seemed unwise. Negotiations, even if Goda did not intend to put the results into practice, would take time. And treasure chests full of time were what she needed, waiting for Ireheart to return with enough allied soldiers to confront the enemy magus.

It would not be easy. Her husband and the one-eyed dwarf calling himself Tungdil had a daunting task; everyone knew that. Unlike the soldiers defending Evildam, Goda was not optimistic about being able to face down Lot-Ionan and force him to his knees.

The creature heading for the gate was walking more slowly now. It stopped three paces away and called out in a quavering voice. The guards passed on the message.

“Has it brought a list of demands?” Goda asked the others. “I wonder.”

The three of them hurried down. Goda, Kiras and the ubari went to the lift along corridors and past battlements and catapults. The open cabin took them down to ground level for the main gate. A soldier came up, a roll of parchment in his hands. “It was posted through the barrier into the spy-hole, Maga,” he explained.

“Put it down,” Goda instructed him. “Carefully.”

The guard looked surprised. “It’s only parchment.”

“Do what you are told!” snapped Kiras. “Who knows what spell they might have put on it. It could be a trick.”

The soldier did as he was ordered.

Goda approached the roll and spoke a security incantation to check whether the enemy magus had impregnated the parchment with a spell that would start to work when it was unrolled. She relaxed when the green flickering cloud did not change color-a sure indication that all was in order.

She picked it up, unrolled it and read:

Defenders,

I, Bearer of Many Names on this side of the Abyss and beyond, demand that you surrender the fortress with immediate effect. Open the gates and withdraw!

Further, I demand the entire hinterland be instantly subjected to my rule. I am inclined to be merciful if this happens without delay. If not, pity will be shown neither to soldiers nor citizens and I shall instruct my warriors that everything is to be destroyed.

I, Bearer of Many Names, am in possession of power beyond anything your own magus can compete with. Your magus should surrender to me voluntarily. If, on the other hand, I am forced to, I shall use my might to sweep him aside, and then shall have my troops wreak greater havoc still on the land.

The reply to this announcement must be received within seven sun courses, no more.

If the reply is not forthcoming within the set period I shall consider my demands to have been rejected and I shall know how to proceed to achieve my justified claims.

Nothing and no one can save you from my anger if you challenge me.

Goda handed the parchment to Kiras. “Insolent is too harmless a word for this fanatical rubbish!”

“Arrogant,” judged the undergroundling on skimming the content. “Arrogant and stupid. Someone’s getting rather big for his boots today.”

The maga went to the gate and had the sentry open the spy-hole. Directly in front of her she saw the red shimmer of the sphere the foe had erected, providing cover for war engines to be moved in close. You would not make demands like that unless you had great power, there was no disputing that. “Maybe he really is that powerful.” She clutched one of the diamond splinters and prepared a spell to attack the red sphere.

A narrow bolt of lightning sped through the spy-hole from the tip of her middle finger; it hit the barrier.

There was a humming sound like in a beehive and then a dark coloring spread where the spell had struck. Red turned to orange and then finally to dazzling yellow.