“Lamp oil?”
“Well, and some cooking oil. A little of the pitch they use for torches.” A spark caught the cloth in the jar Khollo was holding and a thin tongue of flame sprang into existence. Sermas exhaled heavily and looked around, shading his eyes. “By the looks of things, we’ll need as many of those as we can get.” He glanced at Khollo, frowning. “You may want to get rid of that.”
“What?”
“Throw it! Now!”
Khollo hurled the jar into the vertaga ranks lobbing it high into the sky. It fell, a pinwheeling ball of flame, until it was a little above head height and several rows back. Then, the jar disintegrated with a stupendous BANG!
A cloud of fire erupted from the spot, black smoke pouring into the sky. Fragments of pottery whirled through the air, slashing any bit of exposed flesh they encountered. Vertaga staggered and howled, some suffering from multiple wounds.
“Impressive,” Khollo observed.
“Not bad for your first throw,” Sermas agreed. “Oh, there goes Hern with another one.”
Khollo threw up his arms to shield his face and body, seeing that Hern’s pot was on target to land a little closer. Fortunately, the vertaga were packed closely enough that none of the shrapnel reached the Sthan lines.
“Show off,” Sermas muttered. “He says he has a secret recipe that makes the explosion bigger but – Duck, quickly!”
Khollo dropped flat, rolling to one side. He heard the wet crunch of a heavy blade sliding into flesh and blood spattered across his arm. Black blood.
The young warrior looked up in time to see a vertag sag to one side and fall to the ground, dead. Sermas lowered his sword, dripping more black blood, and helped Khollo to his feet.
“Where did he come from?” Khollo wondered. Then, he saw the dead Sthan swordsman that had taken his place between Relam and Kanin. More and more of the monsters were surging toward the gap, seeing an opening.
“Little help?” Relam shouted, struggling against two vertaga.
Khollo bounded forward, Sen-teel flashing while Sermas pulled another of the clay pots from a bag slung over one shoulder and lobbed it into the vertaga ranks, slowing the advance. Kanin moved to close the gap, breathing fire at the vertaga and fanning the flames with his wings, driving it down on the enemy. Between them, Relam and Khollo managed to slay their two opponents and stood back for a brief respite while the vertaga were held at bay by Kanin’s fire.
“We can still win this,” Relam panted. “There can’t be too many more vertaga. But our men are starting to tire.”
“Kanin and I can keep going for a while yet,” Khollo promised.
“I appreciate that, but one dragon may not be enough,” Relam grunted.
“Well, I can’t conjure up any more, so we’ll have to make do,” Khollo replied.
At that moment, a trio of vertaga burst through the dying flames, axes and swords held at the ready. Khollo and Relam exchanged a glance, then ran to meet them, weapons whirling in deadly circles of light.
On and on they fought. Vertaga fell before the king and the Keepers, fell by the dozens, and still they came on. Kanin battered them with his tail, tore them to ribbons with his claws, crushed them with his feet and blasted them with fire. But still the vertaga advanced, searching for the one opening, the fatal blow which would turn the tide.
Meanwhile, the catapults continued their work behind Khollo and the others, slowly rotating and hurling boulder after boulder, targeting tunnel after tunnel. Arrows continued to fly from the cliffs above, but Khollo knew the archers would soon begin to run low on shafts. Without the deadly rain they were sustaining, how would the Sthan army keep up?
Khollo thrust at his latest opponent, taking the beast under the arm, driving the blade of his Sen-teel into its heart. The Keeper immediately withdrew and rotated his weapon, stabbing a second vertag through the throat. The horned monster gurgled horribly, then fell, blood pooling around the wound. Khollo wiped sweat from his brow with his free hand and looked down at the Sen-teel. Both blades were stained with black blood along their entire length, and even more covered the handle and his right hand.
I must rest soon, Kanin warned. Khollo was shocked by the weariness in the dragon’s mental voice; it sounded like he was on the verge of collapse. There are simply too many. I can only kill them so fast. Kanin roared in protest and flamed another clump of vertaga.
Khollo spun and slashed at another vertag, a slightly undersized brute that stood only a little taller than Khollo himself. The beast still put up a good fight, until a spearman standing behind Khollo stepped forward and stabbed him in the leg. The vertag stumbled and doubled over. Khollo finished the beast with a quick slash. As he stepped back, panting, letting the Sen-teel hang loosely in his grasp, a boulder sailed over his head, headed for the gate of Dun Carryl.
I told them to focus on the tunnels! Khollo thought angrily, whirling around to look back at the catapults.
They have, Kanin replied, twisting around to look back at the siege engines.
At the same time, the first boulder smashed into the cliff face above the gate.
Stone shattered and pieces spun off, striking vertaga standing too close. Dirt and rubble slid a few feet, then stopped, temporarily held back by other outcrops. Another boulder slammed into the cliff, slightly higher, starting another small avalanche.
Khollo ran to Kanin’s side, climbing up his foreleg and into the saddle. Quick, let’s see what’s going on, he urged. Do you have strength to fly?
Kanin lurched into the air, though it seemed to be a far greater
