But appearances have been deceptive, Goda thought, as she and Boendalin traveled up in the lift to reach the tower. They’ve tricked us and lulled us into being negligent.
The battlement walkways and tower over the gateway were starkly illuminated, with all the torches lit. Streams of boiling pitch were being tipped out of the special gullies and glowing coals hurled down onto the beasts laying siege to the fortress; arrows and spears shot out from the catapults. Burning sacks of petroleum were dropped over the edge to burst on landing, turning monsters into living torches. Fire arrows whizzed to and fro between the defenders and besiegers, piercing the black clouds. It was an impressive picture.
But the monsters were not dismayed by the strength of the bombardment.
Small mobile battering rams were at hand and already being used, as Goda could hear from the repeated thuds. The screams of monsters in the distance sounded only as a monotonous low murmur, like the babbling of a brook.
The magic screen had disappeared, and none of the smaller beasts were on the plain anymore. They were all heading for the North Gate, taking their half-completed siege towers with them.
“I don’t get it,” Goda said to herself. Why on earth the North Gate? Are they trying to draw our attention away from the South Gate? She leaned over and looked down.
“We thought it was a trick at first, too,” Boendalin said. “But the other towers report no activity. The beasts are attacking in the north in a mad frenzy and the gate guards are in trouble. I’ve given orders for all the soldiers and ammunition to be sent over.”
“I want to see for myself.” Goda watched the Black Abyss closely as she ran with her son, past the western gate and on to the northern defenses. It was a very long way.
The ravine was in darkness and the paths leading out of it were empty and abandoned. Every single one of the monsters had assembled at the northern gateway.
“Either their reinforcements are hiding, waiting to see what the outcome will be, or else they haven’t got any extra forces,” Boendalin told her when he saw her enquiring glance. “So the northern gate is not a bad choice for them. It’s the last place we would have expected them to attack.”
“But they must know we can move in extra troops fast along the battlements and through the inside corridors,” she objected. “It’s a false attack, I’m convinced. They’re trying to distract us.” She watched the fighting, which was growing more violent now. “Where is their magus?”
“No sign of him,” replied Boendalin. “Do you think…?”
“They are carrying out the attack for him,” said Goda. “He’s planning something. He wants to tie up all our efforts on that one side.” She looked over at the south tower and stopped. “I’m going to hurry back. You get to the north tower and take command. As soon as you spot the magus, send me a message.” She embraced him swiftly and departed at speed.
Boendalin charged off in the opposite direction.
Bandaal tied his boots, threw on his chain-mail shirt, grabbed his ax and hurried into the corridor. Even if no one had given them the call to arms, the young famulus wanted to be part of this. The fortress might be in need of every bit of available help.
“Wait!” The door to Sanda’s chamber was open and his sister came out. She was also wearing armor and carrying an ax. They were both gifted in magic but this did not prevent them using conventional weapons sometimes. Not being the same standard as their mother, they could not rely solely on their magic.
“Didn’t they wake you, either?” Bandaal adjusted her helmet.
She thanked him by correcting the lacing on his chain-mail tunic. “No. Mother wanted to let us sleep.”
He looked at her. “Or do you think it’s because of the failure of the mission?”
“It wasn’t a failure,” she retorted. “We killed lots of the beasts and destroyed masses of their equipment.”
He sighed. “You know what I mean.” He ran off, his sister at his heels.
“You reckon they think more highly of our warlike siblings and brother Boendalin? That may be so.” Sanda held her ax in her hand; it got in the way in her belt. “That’s why it’s important we are seen.”
They hurried along the corridor that housed their family’s rooms. This was where the dwarves rested, and where they shared their community life. Evildam was nothing but an artificial symmetrical mountain with a system of tunnels and chambers.
They crossed the communal living area where the Doubleblades often met up and sat together in the evenings to discuss the events of the orbit, on past the kitchen, and then they reached the lift shaft that went all the way from the foundations to the highest battlement tower. The lift was a tremendous boon.
Bandaal touched the lever to move the weights and call the lift cage down to their level. “I wonder what the monsters are up to?”
“It must be pretty bad if they sounded the alarm for the whole fortress,” said Sanda, thoughtfully.
“Apart from where we were.” Bandaal decided that, after the attack-or whatever it was-he would have a serious talk with his mother. Even if she did not want any of her famuli near her, he and his sister needed to be told of any danger. How did it look if the fortress commander’s own children slept on in comfort while the defenders on the walls were fighting for their lives?
The lift cabin turned up and they pushed the grille aside and got in.
To their surprise the lift traveled down, not up, as the young magician had directed the machine.
“Is it broken?” Bandaal moved the handle a few times and the cage’s descent slowed.
“Perhaps there’s someone else wanting to use it?” Sanda counted the marks on the shaft wall as they passed; they had reached the ground floor. The lift jerked to a halt-but there was no one standing waiting.
“Where are we?”
“By the entrance.” Sanda looked out. “Hey? Anybody there? Did someone want to come up top with us?”
Then the cabin was jolted. One of the transmission chains had broken, slamming onto the roof of the cage and unreeling noisily. The whole cage structure creaked and bent under the extra weight and the cabin started to crumple.
“Get out!” Bandaal ordered, giving his sister a push. Before he could follow her, the second chain broke and the lift shot down into the darkness.
Sanda stumbled forward into the corridor, heard the infernal crash behind her and whirled round. She saw the second chain flying past and heard the bang and clank of the impact; the chains were still unreeling and burying the lift and her brother with it. He was right down at the bottom of the fortress lift shaft.
“Bandaal!” she shrieked in alarm and went over to the shaft, where the ends of the chain were snaking past. One last clank and then quiet. Far below her she could make out the steel-gray shimmer of the broken cabin and the chain links. “Bandaal!”
The dwarf-girl turned and was about to head for the stairs-but someone called her name. The voice came from the shaft.
She turned quickly, leaned over and used her hands as a loud hailer. “Bandaal! Hang on!”
A beige shimmer of light coming from above made her lift her head. She froze with terror and could not turn away.
Five paces overhead the leader of the monsters hovered in mid-air. Countless fingers of light shot out from his vraccassium armor to meet the walls of the shaft, as he sank gently down. He had his hammers stuck in his belt; his right armored gauntlet was glowing and held a torn length of glowing chain links. The lift’s collapse had not been an accident.
Still held aloft by the beams, he gradually reached Sanda’s level and walked toward her. The soles of his boots met stone with a metallic clank. He crouched down by the dwarf-girl.