The doom of dragonback, p.19
The Doom of Dragonback, page 19
He could see that Haldora was not faring quite so well. Her young legs still needed toughening up and there was a set to her face, not quite a grimace, that spoke of growing determination to ignore something, most likely an ache in her calf muscles.
She would never say anything, of course. First and foremost she was a dwarf and dwarfs did not complain about physical hardship. They rarely complained about anything, except the weather, prices, thin ale, beardlings, greenskins, elves and cold stews. And each other. Skraffi was not going to ask either. He had too much respect for Haldora to intimate that he might think she needed help. Skraffi was a rogue at times, but even he knew where the line was drawn regarding proper decorum around womenfolk.
As if common dwarf reserve was not enough, Haldora was even more stubborn than most on such matters. Skraffi had never known a maiden who was so determined not to act like one, and he had been married to Awdhelga. What Haldora didn’t understand, and Awdhelga had known very well, was that quite often an over-abundance of obvious strength would easily be confused with a hidden weakness. Awdhelga had never been ashamed of being female, but that seemed to be the lesson Haldora had learnt.
Looking at his grand-daughter now, red-cheeked, eyes fixed ahead, Skraffi knew she was trying not only her best but more than that. She was trying too hard, and there was a word for dwarfs like that: ufdi. A vain and preening individual.
He knew she was nothing like that at all, but there was a danger that if she kept pushing so hard to be someone she wasn’t then she would get the wrong sort of reputation. He had watched her in the fighting with the wolf riders and Nakka had taught her well, but he had also seen the way she had become pushy when they were discussing when to leave the fortress. That sort of behaviour did not win friends.
Now was not the time to mention it, though, and Skraffi was left to stew in his thoughts as they reached level ground. He stepped aside for a moment, stretching his back, and turned to look back at the wildlands. If he squinted he could just about see the bastions at Undak Grimgazan. The leading edge of the orc horde – greenskins riding boars and chariots moving ahead of the rest of the army – were already there.
He felt someone come up beside him and glanced to his left to see Nurftun.
‘They’re not hanging about, are they?’ said the other dwarf.
‘It’s worrying,’ admitted Skraffi. ‘They’re covering ground like they want to get somewhere.’
‘Something’s got into them. This is more than just looking for somewhere new to live. ‘Tis an attack, sure as the sky is blue.’
Although never in doubt, Skraffi couldn’t help but to glance up. Grey clouds were gathering above the mountains but over the plains the sky was indeed still blue. He also noticed that one of the wyverns had broken away from the main body of the horde and was climbing higher, heading directly towards the valley.
‘I smell trouble,’ he said, indicating the wyvern to Nurftun.
‘Not good, not good at all, my friend. We better up the pace, I don’t fancy that big beggar catching up with us before nightfall.’
Word of the wyvern quickly spread through the column, greeted by rumbles of consternation and dirty looks. Children were lifted onto shoulders and packs were lightened even further, leaving a trail of tankards, bread, small pots and pans, hams and other weightier items in the wake of the group. Soon everybody was puffing and panting as the late summer sun beat down relentlessly on the mountainside.
As the pace increased so did the separation of the group. Gabbik and the thanes set a hard speed from the front and there were some hard-pressed to keep up. Skraffi and some others fell back to bring up the rear, urging on the dawdlers with scowls and sharp words. Despite their best efforts the column was drawing out, and Skraffi could almost feel the wolf riders coming closer, sniffing with interest as the group became more tired and ragged.
Many of the goblins had disappeared after midday, no doubt seeking water and shade. They knew where the dwarfs were going and could easily catch up. Others had disappeared ahead on whatever mischief they had planned. Skraffi tried his best to keep watch but now the effort of simply forging over the uneven ground took most of his concentration, as it did the others. He did, however, keep finding time to glance over his shoulder to see if the wyvern was still coming after them.
It was.
Sweat slicking his face and soaking his beard, Skraffi gritted his teeth and forged on. Now and then he caught up with a mother or beardling who had stopped for a breather. He’d give them a slap on the behind or an encouraging hand on the shoulder as he saw fit, and urge them on again. It was a relief when they finally crossed over the shoulder of the valley and back onto the track, catching a wind coming down from the peaks that brought much-needed relent from the dry air.
Late in the afternoon the back of the group caught up with the front. Stofrik, Gabbik and the others had stopped. A few hundred paces ahead the valley became more of a gorge, the sides steepening sharply, tumbled boulders littering the floor to either side. Skraffi joined them to find out what was causing the delay.
‘And I say there’s no way around,’ said Gabbik. ‘We’ll be scattered all over the place if we try to climb, and the nearest other trail is back a ways. Too far to double back.’
‘What’s the problem?’ asked Skraffi.
‘Goblins, what else?’ Stofrik pointed his axe up to the heights of the chasm and Skraffi could see small shapes moving along the top. They seemed to be rolling stones and rocks to the edge.
‘Ambush?’ he said.
‘They’ll drop rocks on us and finish us off,’ said Vadlir.
‘Or block the pass entirely,’ said Gabbik. ‘The longer we stand here grumbling, the more time they have to prepare their trap. We need to push on through as quick as we can.’
‘And just take our chances? What about the womenfolk and the little ones?’ asked Farbrok.
‘I’m sure the wolves won’t be picky,’ snapped Gabbik. ‘Goblins with rocks is better than goblins on wolves.’
‘And a wyvern,’ added Skraffi. ‘I think my lad’s right, we have to push through as quick as we can. There’s woods up on the north-western slope, we’ll fare better in there than on the open mountainside.’
Together the other dwarfs looked south, judging how far away the wyvern was. Too close, by their expressions.
‘I don’t like it, but it seems we haven’t got no choice,’ said Stofrik, grimacing. ‘Now is it better to put the weaker folks through first, before them goblins have got their aim in, or do we lead the way and hope they run out of rocks lobbing them at us?’
‘Maybe we can over-think this one,’ said Gabbik. ‘I say we all just put our heads down and run. Those with shields do their best to protect those without.’
‘Fair enough,’ said Stofrik. ‘We’ll break into threes and fours, best we can, not to give them too large a target to aim at.’
The dwarfs were gathered together and then broken into smaller groups for the dash through the gorge. Skraffi wasn’t too sure on his geography round these parts but his dim recollections told him the chasm wasn’t any more than two or three hundred paces long before it flattened and widened out again. He was joined by Gabbik, Friedra and Haldora.
‘We’ll make a roof with our shields,’ he said, nodding to Gabbik.
‘I’ve got a shield too,’ said Haldora. ‘Why don’t you ask me?’
‘This isn’t the time, Haldi,’ said Gabbik.
‘Why not? My shield’s just as good as your shield, isn’t it?’
‘No,’ snapped Skraffi, his patience worn thin by the events of the last couple of days, ’it isn’t. You’re tired, nearly falling over. You need all your energy for your legs.’
Haldora looked as though he had slapped her across the face. She stood in open-mouthed disbelief, staring at him.
‘Look after your mother,’ said Gabbik. ‘We’ll look after you.’
Haldora was stunned and made no more protest as they joined the line of dwarfs getting ready to push on into the gorge. There were nine or ten families in front of them, all of them eyeing the tops of the crags to either side with suspicion. Skraffi looked back once more. The wyvern was past the fortress at the base of the mountain now, he was sure of it. The wind was in their favour, but it would be on them by the early evening.
‘Let’s just get going,’ he shouted, waving his axe at Stofrik. ‘We need to get to the woods!’
The first dwarfs broke into a run, raising their shields as the valley narrowed. The next group set off before the first had reached where the goblins were lying in wait. As the first group came level with the narrowest part of the gorge pebbles and fist-sized rocks started to shower down. Skraffi hadn’t appreciated just how many goblins had been waiting. There had to be three or four score of the horrid little creatures.
They followed up the valley as family after family set off and soon enough it was their turn. Skraffi shared a look with Gabbik and they broke into a run, herding Friedra and Haldora between them, keeping their pace steady but sure.
‘Watch your footing,’ Skraffi managed between puffed breaths. ‘If anyone trips here we’ll be buried in rocks quicker than Fleinn downs his ale.’
Larger boulders were rumbling down the slopes now, levered into position by teams of goblins. Arrows poured down too, splintering from the rocks and thudding into the ground just a few paces away.
Skraffi and Gabbik raised their shields as they reached the worst part. Stones rattled from above like hail and larger rocks bounced and spun past, ricocheting from each other as they rolled to a stop. Skraffi tried to have his eyes everywhere – on the ground, on the goblins, on the rocks and on the wyvern. Smaller stones were clattering from his armour and thudded into his upraised arm as the goblins pelted the running dwarfs with everything they could find.
‘Keep going,’ Gabbik snarled through gritted teeth.
‘Left! Left!’ shrieked Friedra. They veered without question, moving together, just in time to avoid a spinning chunk of rock bigger than any of them.
There was a shout from behind, the sound of splintering wood and a cry of pain. Skraffi dared not look back.
Soon the deluge of stones slowed and died away but they pressed on up the valley as fast as they could. The first dwarfs through had formed a tight circle near to a stand of trees, and had their weapons ready as a band of wolf riders closed in from the other side of the vale. The Angboks joined them, moving Friedra to the middle of the ring while the others bared their weapons at the incoming raiders.
The wolf riders came charging in, mounts snarling and drooling, the riders shrieking and laughing. Skraffi pulled one of his throwing axes free – it was still bloodied from the fighting the day before. When the wolves were just a couple of dozen paces away he let fly, aiming at the largest. The axe sparkled in the sun as it spun, a few moments later burying deep in the wolf’s skull. It pitched over, tossing its rider to the ground as sling bullets and catapulted stones flew from the cluster of dwarfs at the other attackers.
Skraffi pulled Elfslicer and waited for the charge. His whole body was tense and he loosened his grip on his axe, trying to relax, picking out which of the greenskins would come for him. At the last moment the riders veered away with hoarse screams of panic, yanking the reins, manes and ears of their wolves to steer them away. Skraffi risked a glance and saw a group of twenty or so dwarfs charging up the valley – enough to spook the wolf riders into retreating.
The goblins did not fall back far, but clustered together amongst the tumbled boulders and scree of the valley’s northern side while the dwarfs continued to run the gauntlet of stones and rocks from above.
Not all passed through the gorge unharmed – several of the young dwarfs were crying from injuries, cradling fractured hands and fingers, sporting cuts and bruises on heads and faces, while older members of the group bore the pain of similar wounds with stoic silence and gritted teeth.
They did not tarry long and Stofrik set a strong pace once more, aware of the wyvern that could now be clearly seen closing quickly across the darkening sky. The delay in negotiating the pass made it touch and go whether they would reach the sanctuary of the lower groves in time.
Chapter Fourteen
‘These were hard times for the king and his people. Although they had the south road, they were overshadowed by the trade of the Drakkanfolk and they were forced to rely more and more on what they had to hand. They tended their herds, grew their cereal and made their beer, and they searched for the lode that would secure their future.
They were safe – the goblins feared the axes and bows of the Drakkanfolk – but they were poor. ‘Krekrik’ they called Grimbalki, the king of the goats, and his people became known as the Zakiskrat. It was a bad time and many of them lost faith with the king, but were too angry with the Drakkanfolk to join them, so they returned back to Karak Eight Peaks.
This was called the Great Eastening and nearly a third of the clans of the mountains abandoned the Dragonbacks, and those that were left behind began to sorely wonder if they could survive.’
It was a punishing climb away from the road, forging through thickets of spiny bushes, and in places Skraffi and the others were forced to use their hands as much as their feet, pulling themselves up blunt escarpments and squeezing through gaps where aeons of geological movement had split shoulders of rock and thrown shelves of stone. No stranger to physical activity, even Skraffi could feel the strain of their hasty passage, his back aching between his shoulders, calves threatening cramp every few paces. For some of the others it was too much and he spent just as much time hauling and cajoling the beardlings as he did moving himself.
Those that had thought themselves capable of the journey when they had been back at Undak Grimgazan were now suffering badly. Some were hobbling, almost carried by their peers or leaning heavily on staves or quickly-fashioned crutches. A few could not manage even that and were hoisted onto the shoulders of their comrades or dragged between them over the smoother ground.
Skraffi took heart as he saw his grand-daughter helping one of the older womenfolk. Haldora slung her shield on her back and took a child out of its mother’s arms so that she could use both hands to clamber over the rocks and push aside the branches of snaring shrubs. He caught her glance at one point and gave her a nod of approval. She ignored him, evidently still annoyed by his earlier remonstration with her.
That was fine. He could bear her youthful resentment as long as she stayed alive.
A cry from ahead had him hurrying forward, but as he turned around a bend in the goat track they had been trying to follow he saw that the shouts were of joy not fear. The first trees of the lower groves could be seen a few hundred paces ahead. Looking back he saw the wyvern was still some distance behind, perhaps slowed by a shift in the wind as the valley turned further westwards. They would make the safety of the trees after all.
With sanctuary in sight, of a kind, the dwarfs found fresh strength yet again and there were even a few spare breaths for some light-hearted banter. Skraffi did not feel like joking though, knowing that any respite was only temporary. The lower groves covered swathes of the mountainside around these parts but there was still a large stretch of open ground between the trees and the nearest of Ekrund’s gates where they had over-nighted on their way down the road.
He raised this as he caught up with Gabbik, Stofrik and a few others at the edge of the thickening woods.
‘Settle down there, Skraffi,’ said Farbrok. ‘Let’s worry about one thing at a time.’
‘What else is there to worry about?’ said Skraffi, jerking a thumb towards the skyward blot that was the wyvern. ‘If that beast catches us we’re done for.’
‘Not if we hide in the woods until the sun sets,’ said Gabbik. ‘We’ll get as far as we can under the cover of the trees and then wait until night. Wyverns are not renowned for their night vision.’
‘What about goblins and wolves?’ said Skraffi. The riders were still shadowing the group, glimpsed now and then following a parallel course just beyond a ridge on the left and through the scrub on their right. ‘They’ll pick us off one by one in the woods if we let them.’
‘Best not let them,’ growled Stofrik. He patted his axe. ‘We don’t have to move so quick under the trees, so we can watch each other, right?’
Skraffi looked at the thanes and saw that they appeared to be of like mind. Now was not the time to raise objections.
‘All right,’ he said. ‘Let’s get the lasses and beardlings together and stick close.’
In the shadows of the thick canopy of leaves the dwarfs gathered about their leaders and took stock. Three of them had fallen in the gorge, stoned to death by goblins, and two more had disappeared since – nobody had seen them go and both had already been wounded on the patrol so it was assumed they had fallen behind and succumbed to the prowling wolf riders.
‘We lose nobody else,’ said Gabbik, expression fierce. ‘Nobody.’
Skraffi was not convinced but he gave his son a reassuring pat on the shoulder and hefted Elfslicer. ‘Not if we can do anything about it.’
The desperation that had gripped them in the latter part of their flight now waned in the shelter of the trees. No longer under the bludgeoning glare of the sun, with the ground clear of much undergrowth and carpeted with soft mulch, the going was much easier. There was still little enough energy for idle chatter, but it was a relief to be away from the relentless exposure of the rocky mountainside and the clinging thorns of bramble and gorse.
It was much dimmer beneath the trees and Skraffi quickly lost a sense of time. Now and then he glimpsed a reddening sky through breaks in the canopy above and he trudged on without conscious thought, putting one foot in front of the other almost out of habit. Most of his concentration was directed at keeping watch, Elfslicer at the ready. With some of the others he walked in a cordon just a dozen or so paces from the rest of the company, keeping an eye out for the goblins.
