Dark Thane

His orders were swiftly relayed to the warriors and their officers. Daergar archers divided themselves among the three columns. When everything was ready, they set off at a quick march. Within minutes, they had reached their objective without being noticed. Orin Bellowsmoke and several of his companions made quick work of the locks. Huge double-valved doors swung wide to admit the three columns of dwarf warriors.

Stacks of crates rose from floor to ceiling, forming a narrow passage down which Tarn and his warriors cautiously advanced. An identical set of double doors stood at the opposite side of the warehouse, leading out into the transportation shaft courtyard. Near the entrance, stairs led up to catwalks that crisscrossed above them. The Daergar archers swiftly ascended and made their way to the second and third-story windows, their hobnailed boots ringing on the metal walks. At the lowest level, all the windows were blocked by crates, but the higher windows provided a clear field of fire for the Daergar archers.

The Daergar archers lining the catwalk above Tarn's head watched for danger. Crouching behind the door, the king waited until he felt his two other commanders had had enough time to move into their positions in the other warehouses. Then he looked up, checking with the Daergar at the windows. The scout who had led them to this point rose up on his knees and peered out of the window for a moment, scanning the courtyard beyond. Then he looked down at the king and nodded. All was ready.

As Tarn reached for the door, it opened of its own accord, pulled wide by a Theiwar warrior among the force waiting beyond it to surprise them. Above him, the Daergar turned their crossbows against their allies, two score deadly shafts poised to wreak havoc among the warriors packed in the narrow lane between impassible stacks of crates. At the same time, the rear doors swung wide. Hylar and Theiwar soldiers poured in, sealing the trap.

Snarling a curse, Tarn spun, ready to hack a way through to the transportation shaft The sounds of battle would bring Otaxx’s attack on the third level, and that might be enough to draw off the Theiwar sorcerers and allow his dwarves to escape. "It's a trap!" the king roared and lifted his sword. But as he led the charge into the courtyard, his battlecry died in his throat, his muscles froze. Eerie words of magic seemed to surround him, binding him in invisible cords until he was no longer able to move. Around him, his soldiers were cut down by arrows or struck senseless by Theiwar spells. A strangled cry of frustration and rage burst from his lips as his sword fell from his fingers.

Meanwhile, the warehouse in which Glint Ettinhammer and his Klar warriors awaited the signal to attack was largely empty except for a row of crates stacked against the windows of the first level. This arrangement prevented him from seeing into the courtyard, an inconvenience that he could not help but notice. Above him, two dozen Daergar archers crouched along the metal catwalk beneath the open windows of the second level. He didn't like having those untrustworthy brigands above him, but there was little he could do. They dared not try to move the crates from the first floor windows lest they be spotted by the Theiwar guarding the transportation shaft.

Glint was suspicious; worse, he was worried. The entry into this place had been far too easy. He had trouble believing that Theiwar careful enough to block every alley with a spell would overlook such an obvious hole in their defenses. Tarn had divided his own forces for the plan, and was now blind to the movements of his enemy; plus he was separated from his friends. Glint was heartily sorry that he had not advised a more careful reconnaissance of the terrain. Impatience had clouded his thinking.

The Klar thane's nerves were on edge. After he had waited what he thought was plenty of time for the others to get into attack position, Glint couldn't sit still any longer. "I'm going up to have a look," he said to the Klar captain at his side. "If the signal comes while I am upstairs, you lead the charge. I'll he right behind you."

"Yes, my thane!" the captain said, excited to be given such an honor.

Slipping swiftly and relatively silently along the wall, Glint had just reached the stair leading up to the catwalk when he heard Tarn's shouted cry. The words were faint, muffled by distance and by the walls that stood between them, but the old Klar warrior knew what it meant. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Daergar stand and point their weapons down on those beneath them. Both sets of doors banged open. Theiwar and Hylar warriors poured through.