Korinn ordered the defenders of Fort Denwarf to don their armor and make ready their weapons, for the invasion of Rockhome could come at any time now. Their only hope was that the invaders would turn aside at the last minute. The line of fire began to push upward into the foothills, feeding greedily on the lightly wooded lower slopes and almost as quickly breaking into many smaller fires and dying away. The mountainsides were too rocky and barren, the stands of wood too sparse and stunted. There had been a great deal of rain in the mountains that spring, even along the northern slopes, and the trees were reluctant to burn.
The wall of dark smoke grew thicker, like a dark cloud that hung over the mountains. Finally the smoke began to lift grudgingly as the last fires faded. Now the dwarves had their first look at what the flames had done to the steppes. They were shocked to see a dead, barren land, the gently rolling hills black and bare where there had always been a sea of grass. A dull gray haze of smoke hung over the devastated land. Near at hand, several small armies were gathering into a single invasion force of great size and strength along the banks of the Styrdal River, obviously preparing for an assault on the pass.
Korinn went down beyond the pass for a closer look, to try to get some estimate of the size of the force that he would soon face. Four separate companies of soldiers, each some five thousand strong, were approaching from the west with their supply wagons and siege weapons, and at least five more companies were strung out in a line to the east for as far as he could see. He was even more alarmed to discover that their forces were assembled from many different races, some unlike any he had ever seen, not even vaguely human.
At least Korinn now had answers to all his questions. The invasion of Rockhome had become a certainty, and he knew now that an invasion force of perhaps fifty thousand was being directed at this pass alone. He felt reasonably certain they would not be attempting to storm the pass that day, and possibly not the next. The enemy forces were still scattered, and he could imagine with grim satisfaction that they must be in poor condition after marching the breadth of the steppes in all that ash and dust and choking smoke. Korinn also felt reasonably certain he could keep them from taking Fort Denwarf for many days, as long as the Masters themselves did not take a hand in the assault on the fortress. But the gemstone dragons
remained curiously absent.
Korinn was concerned about those missing dragons, fearful that they had already passed secretly over the mountains and were raiding with impunity in the cities and settlements of Rockhome to the south. His question was answered later that night, when gemstone dragons began to fly swiftly, alone or in small groups, through the center of the pass, just beyond the reach of the weapons of Fort Denwarf. Their business was obviously to the south, and for now they seemed content to completely ignore the border fortress.
This was Korinn's first opportunity to actually see the gemstone dragons. He had been wondering how much they were like the dragons of his own world. He thought that they were larger than most dragons he had seen, the shapes of their heads and ridges different from that of any breed he knew. Their jewel-like armor gave them a very remarkable appearance, as if they were not living creatures at all but statues carved of stone or cut from facetted jewels that had been brought to life. He watched them hurtle past in the night, wondering where they were going and what they were planning, and he could only hope that the dwarves of Rockhome were already secure below the ground.
The fearful night passed, but the new day only brought the dwarvish defenders that much closer to the inevitability of invasion. By midmorning, the sentries had left their posts farther down the pass, retreating back to the fortress. They brought the warning that the invading armies were beginning their slow march along the road into the mountains, even though a couple of the companies from the east had yet to join the main body of the army. Fort Denwarf would be under siege by nightfall.
For the dozenth time, Korinn reviewed his plans for the battle to hold the Styrdal Pass. He had one plan of defense if the invading armies attacked first, and a second, very different plan if the gemstone dragons attacked. He had to take for granted that he would have to face the Masters sooner or later, especially if he was successful in holding up their army. The only plan he did not consider was that Thelvyn Fox-Eyes and the dragons would come to his rescue at the last moment. He had no doubt that the dragons would come, but he knew they needed time. Thelvyn was too clever to go to war unprepared; he would wait until he had a force of dragons powerful enough to face the Masters and their army.
Late that afternoon, as the sun was sinking behind the mountains to the west, the front ranks of the invaders came up through the pass and halted a short distance from the gates of Fort Denwarf. They stopped just beyond the range of most longbows or light crossbows, and they moved their siege weapons and many of their supply wagons to the front to provide added protection. Then, to all appearances, they began to make camp for the night, as if they had no wish to begin battle in the darkness. They were at some disadvantage in bringing their forces against the fortress, since there was only a small open area before the gate.
Indeed, the invaders were required to camp on the road itself, since the last three miles of the approach to Fort Denwarf had been cut into the rocky eastern wall of the deep ravine formed by the Styrdal River. There were sheer cliffs or unclimbably steep slopes on the east side of the road. The west side of the road, bordered by a high, massive stone curb, fell away into the darkness of the ravine. While the design of the road appeared to be a simple matter of convenience, dwarves seldom left anything to chance that might prove important to the defense of their cities and treasures.
Korinn waited until well after nightfall, giving the invaders time to make their camp and settle in for the night. He had been standing on the wall of the fortress watching them for some time, and he could easily believe the report that they were slaves whose minds and wills were under the control of the Masters. They seldom spoke, or at least when they did they spoke too softly to be heard, never singing or laughing or taunting the defenders but going about their tasks with a lifeless, almost mindless intensity.
"How are you at ninepins?" Korinn asked General Balar.
"My boys are very good at it," the older dwarf answered. "Shall we have a game tonight?"
"Right now would seem to be a good time, while the Masters aren't here to interfere."
The defenders of Fort Denwarf began their "game" only a few minutes later. A large ballista released its load with a dull, heavy snap and creak of timbers, and a large stone lifted deceptively slowly over the wall of the gateyard. The dwarves knew their business well, and the stone sailed out over the road over a hundred yards before it crashed into the nearest of the siege engines the invaders had brought forward. The impact crushed the base of the small tower, which gradually tilted, then fell forward as if it were in slow motion. The heavy stone itself continued on, gathering speed on the steep incline of the road, brutally battering aside supply wagons.
Dwarves were meticulous in their plans, and they had anticipated circumstances such as this in their designs. Over the years, they had cut stones, ranging from a hundred pounds to several tons, into perfectly round shot for the ballistae. Of course, even the dwarves could not hurl a stone more than a couple of hundred yards or so, and the road disappeared around a turn in the pass not much farther beyond that range. But the dwarves had devised a way that allowed their weapons to have a much greater effective range. The road was wide, bordered by the wall of the cliff on one side and a high stone curb on the other, and it descended steadily to the sentry post on the far side, nearly three miles away. The descent was just steep enough to keep a large stone rolling at a deadly pace for the entire distance.