The Final Storm: The Door Within Trilogy – Book Three -
The Final Storm: Chapter 37
Of the five who fled the darkness and made it back into the city, Warriant was the only one still standing. The other Baleneers were taken into the barracks for medical attention.
“What happened?” Kaliam yelled. Warriant looked up, a maniacal, angry glint in his eyes.
“Wolvins!” Warriant yelled. “The biggest I have ever seen. They tore my men apart in front of me. I put a bale into the chest of one of the creatures. It bit off the end and kept coming.”
“The Sleepers!” Farix exclaimed. “Sound the alarm! Paragor’s armies are here!”
But out of the shroud, before the bells of Alleble could be rung, a piercing wail arose. It began as a shriek that drove knights to their knees and then lowered to an unearthly rumbling roar that shook the walls with its thunder. From the edge of the darkness a volley of a hundred flaming projectiles soared into the turbulent sky. A hail of arrows followed, fired from unseen longbows. And then thousands of soldiers in dark armor streamed out from the murk. They carried battering rams, tall ladders, and grappling hooks and assaulted Alleble’s walls in a hundred places at once.
The fiery missiles landed beyond the gates, some reaching almost as far as the first fountain. They crushed cottages and small keeps, leaving hot fires wherever they fell. Several landed in the midst of companies of Alleble Knights running to support those upon the walls. Hit by arrows, archers and knights fell from Alleble’s walls into the teeming broods below.
But Alleble was ready for this first attack. Legions of knights within the walls pumped gallons of snowmelt from the enormous vats used days before in the crafting of the walls. Fires were doused as soon as they sprang up, and the knights were ready for ten times that first wave.
And atop the walls, Queen Illaria, King Ravelle, and an infuriated Warriant gave the orders for their teams to open fire. Nock and some of the archers began with their new arbalests. They loosed a first volley of darts—these made from the sturdy timber of the Blackwood—and the enemy’s front line dropped as if a great mat had been ripped from under their feet. The archers were stationed two-deep so that after firing, the second archer stepped forward while the first reloaded. The Paragor Knights raised their shields, but that mattered little, if but to throw off the archers’ aim. The bolts launched from the arbalests hit the enemy’s shields and passed through them as if they were made of paper. And the ground nearest the foot of the castle walls became littered with the enemy’s dead.
The Baleneers focused on the enemies who came with ladders and grappling hooks. They were used to spearing wild game from the high limbs of trees in King’s Forest, so this range made it easy for them to pick off the enemy. They heaved their sharp bales down with great might. Those enemies on the ground blinked and found themselves pinned to the earth with a spear through their chests. Others who were unfortunate enough to be climbing the ladders took a spear in their forged helmets.
The volleys of flaming projectiles continued with little effect. Some hit the adorite walls of the city and did no damage to the walls but caused a great tongue of white fire to flash outward and cling to the enemy while it burned. Paragor Knights fell smoldering to the ground.
For hours, Paragor’s armies clamored before the walls of Alleble, but that was all they could do. Kaliam looked with awe at the new walls erected by Mallik’s folk from the Blue Mountains. The walls proved tougher than anything the enemy had to throw at them. Battering rams shivered and cracked upon them. Grappling hooks could gain no purchase, and slid down to fall upon the heads of those who had thrown them. And with Yewland’s archers and Balesparr’s Baleneers defending the parapets, Paragor’s great siege towers could not get close enough to the walls.
But Kaliam knew better than to relax. He knew only too well that the enemy had a devastating weapon at his disposal. He looked out over the wall into the murky darkness breathed into existence by the evil Wyrm Lord.
“Kaliam,” Farix shouted as he ran up, “what are your orders, my Sentinel?”
“Farix, good. I am glad you have come,” Kaliam said, pointing out into the shadows. “What do you see?”
Farix stared into the gloom. “I see a thousand knights on foot,” he replied. “They have also pendulum battering rams, and siege towers, but beyond that, I can see nothing.”
“That cursed darkness! It hides the enemy’s designs. We see only those within range of a short bow, but what lies beyond? And where are the Wyrm Lord and the Seven Sleepers?”
“Perhaps Paragor is waiting to release them at the time of greatest opportunity,” Farix said.
“Now is the time of greatest opportunity!” Kaliam shouted out in frustration. “The Wyrm Lord in his weakest state razed Clarion to the ground, and together with the Sleepers, they devastated our combined forces in Yewland! By now Paragor has no doubt nursed them back to full strength. Why does he delay?”
Farix was silent.
“We must be ready,” Kaliam said. “Farix, go and replace Kindle and make sure he has his force of spearmen near at hand. And see to it that Mallik and his folk fill the turrets should any of their siege engines win through to the walls!”
“Yes, Sentinel,” Farix said, and he vanished down the stairs.
Kaliam stared out over the enemy into the darkness. He paced the parapets until he could bear it no longer. He raced along the wall, ducking into and out of massive turrets, until he came to one of the guard towers near the main gate.
As Kaliam approached, seven sentries ran to him and stood at attention. “What news?” Kaliam asked.
“The gates hold,” answered the first guard in line, a cleanshaven Glimpse who wore a gleaming conical helmet. “In fact, it has barely been assaulted since the battering rams were turned back.”
Kaliam went to the wall and stared down between two stone merlons at the enemy. There were knights as far as the eye could see in that gloom, but they were armed with swords and milled about almost casually.
“We sent the archers to the outer walls,” the sentry continued.
“They are needed more there to repel the siege towers.”
“Yes, good,” Kaliam replied. But he was not so sure. He looked again down at the enemy. As thick as ants on a carcass they were, but they had no ladders or devices for scaling, no great rams for smashing the gates. Why would the enemy abandon the gates? It was the weakest point of entry. “You have done well,” Kaliam said at last. “But do not be caught unaware by a lull in their assault. Send word to bring a host of archers back to the gate. I feel the enemy will strike here again.”
The sentry nodded and sent one of his knights racing along the wall. Then he and the others returned to their posts.
“What is Paragor’s plan?” Kaliam thought aloud. He turned and looked behind him, up Alleble’s main thoroughfare, past the Seven Fountains to the castle. He longed to speak with the King. Surely he would know what to do. But King Eliam had gone to the Sacred Realm, a place where his Sentinel could not follow. And there had been no report of his return. Kaliam would have to lead the defense of the kingdom himself.
Suddenly, the sound of metal grinding against metal ripped through the din of the siege. Kaliam whirled around. “What are they doing?!” The enormous deadbolt arm of the main gate was being drawn back. He pointed to the sentries. “Go!” The sentries dashed from their post and flew down the spiral stairs to the causeway leading to the gatehouse.
Still the great murynstil bolt continued to slide back. Shouts came from the enemy knights on the other side. Kaliam went to the parapet and saw that they were aimless no longer. Hundreds had gathered at the gate, and to Kaliam’s astonishment, they were forming ranks. Kaliam looked back along the walls, and there, running swiftly along the parapets, was Nock, and he led a great team of archers.
“What is happening?” Nock asked when he drew near.
“There is evil afoot!” Kaliam exclaimed. “Someone has begun to withdraw the great bolt to the gate!”
Nock and the others stared.
“I sent a team of guards to the gatehouse, but—” Kaliam looked back to the gate just in time to see the last of the bolt slide away from the guides on the portcullis. He felt a tremor of fear creep along his spine, for slowly the gate itself began to rise. “Nay! This is not possible! Nock, I must go myself to the gate! But see, the enemy is forming on the other side—lining up—as if they might simply walk in!” Kaliam locked eyes with Nock, and in that moment, he was not speaking captain to knight, but friend to friend. “Do not let the enemy enter our city!”
“They stand in line to perish,” Nock said, motioning to his team.
Kaliam’s broadsword unsheathed, he sprinted down the stairs and across the causeway to the gatehouse. He paused at the ramp and watched. The triple portcullis continued to rise. It was nearly high enough for the Paragor Knights who clamored there to squeeze through. I will put a halt to this! Kaliam thought as he hurried up the ramp.
But Kaliam stopped short. There before him was a trail of twisted bodies. He recognized the Glimpse warriors strewn about the road like broken toys, and their eyes were frozen open in fear.
“What madness is this?!” Kaliam exclaimed. Few weapons could inflict this kind of damage—Mallik’s hammer, perhaps. And that led Kaliam to a very disturbing thought. Could one of Mallik’s folk, the Glimpses of the Blue Mountain Provinces, be a traitor like Acsriot or the false ambassadors?
Kaliam held his broadsword in front as he climbed to the top of the ramp. And there, turning the giant chain-driven wheel that raised and lowered the triple portcullis, was a single knight. That is impossible! Kaliam thought. It takes three stout warriors to turn that wheel!
The knight stopped and stood to face Kaliam. Dressed in the armor of Alleble, he smiled grotesquely at Kaliam before walking toward him. And as he drew near, he seemed to change. It was as if with each step, he grew larger. Then Kaliam saw his eyes. They flashed blue at first, but then they flashed red. The warrior began to convulse . . .
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