Neither Kishpa nor Scowarr nor any of the elven defenders who surrounded them seemed either surprised or perplexed by the newcomers' sudden appearance. Tanis's first thought was that Kishpa had cast a spell that had sped them to this place. Yet the half-elf had heard no uttered words of magic nor any mention of a spell. His head spinning, Tanis finally realized that the old mage, fighting for his life on a sandy beach three days west of Solace, probably had forgotten his frantic rush from the seacliff to the village nearly one hundred years earlier. Once forgotten, it was as if the journey had never occurred, at least to the mage.
There was no time, however, to dwell on such riddles. The drums of the massed human army sounded insistently. From his vantage point atop an overturned wagon blocking the main street of the village, Tanis saw them coming. Thousands stormed out of the woods and into the open meadow that led to the village. From their ragtag uniforms and undisciplined charge, they seemed more like a huge mob than a well-trained army. Unfortunately, the elven defenders who manned the barricades were no better trained than their human enemy.
Tanis quickly studied the village defenses. He was appalled. No water brigades stood by in case of fire. No reinforcements waited in reserve in case a section of the barricade was breached. No one was assigned to gather arrows shot over the barricades by the enemy.
Even as Tanis scanned the barricades, so did Kishpa. But unlike the half-elf, the mage searched for a single face. "Where is Mertwig?" he exclaimed. "Has anyone seen him? Is he all right7"
"The old dwarf said not to start the fight without him," an elf by the main gate called back with a nervous laugh.
"Old?" bellowed a craggy-faced dwarf who lumbered down the street toward the main barricade. "Who said I'm old?"
When the dwarf reached the barricade, he stopped and stared at the strangers. He looked questioningly at Kishpa, who glanced at Tanis and Scowarr and nodded his head as if to say, "I know them; don't worry."
Mertwig shrugged. "I'm coming up," he said.
While the dwarf climbed the battlement, Kishpa turned and stared at the oncoming human army. He stood atop the barricade like a red-robed beacon of indestructible hope. The elves behind him looked to him as their savior; the humans who were fast approaching looked to him as their principal target. Despite Kishpa's one-quarter-elven blood, it was obvious which side held his sympathies, his loyalty, even his love.
"I hope your magic is strong," Tanis called up to Kishpa. "This village isn't prepared to withstand a long siege."
The mage didn't appear to have heard him. Kishpa was mumbling dark words. The conjuring had begun.
Tanis waited for something dramatic to happen. The only thing that changed was the proximity of the attacking hordes. The humans, in need of new lands and weaned on distrust and hatred of everything and everyone unlike themselves, surged forward. Soon they would be in longbow range.
Kishpa continued to chant, his eyes closed, his arms in constant motion, his skin seeming to glow with a faint silver aura, perhaps caused by the changing light of the early afternoon sun. A fast-moving dark cloud hung low in the sky.
The front ranks of the human army stopped their charge, knelt with their longbows, nocked their arrows, and sent them flying at the barricades… and at Kishpa.
Tanis immediately leaped from behind his cover and grabbed the mage around the knees, knocking him off his feet as a storm of arrows ripped through the air above them. The two of them rolled heavily down the side of the wagon and thudded to the ground on the inside of the barricade, landing in a heap of dust.
More than a dozen elves, led by the dwarf, Mertwig, rushed to help Kishpa up off the ground. He shooed them away, telling them to get back to their posts. "I suppose you think this settles your debt with me," said the mage to Tanis.
Tanis felt his lips tighten in the face of the mage's implacable air. "In time of war, there is no such thing as a debt for saving a life," he said with dignity. "It is one of the duties of a warrior to save the lives of his fellow soldiers; one should not keep score of such things."
"You have character," said the mage, mollified.
Tanis decided candidness was his best tactic. "It will do me little good if your magic doesn't work," he said, keeping his gaze locked on Kishpa's. "And I fear your spell- casting has had little effect except to draw several hundred arrows in your direction."
Kishpa barely suppressed a laugh.
"Do I sound like Scowarr?" Tanis asked.
"No," the mage said. "But you are unintentionally funny. Look over the barricade, and judge my magic anew."
Tanis scrambled up the side of the overturned wagon and gazed out over a marsh of mud and slime. The sky above the open field had turned black with heavy rain clouds, which poured down a deluge that was blinding in its intensity. In a matter of minutes, the field had turned into a swamp.
The elves cheered. Many left their positions on the north and south sides of the village perimeter to congregate on the eastern barricade and enjoy the spectacle of Kishpa's magic and to create their own special brand of rainfalclass="underline" arrows that sprayed down upon the helpless humans in a deadly shower.
The human army was being decimated, and the charge from the east had been stopped cold. But while the larger human force was mired in mud and blood, a second force attacked virtually unseen from the south. The cries for help from the beleaguered elven defenders who had stayed at their posts went largely unheard over the roar of seeming victory on the east.
Without thinking, hundreds of elves watched the enemy become mired ever deeper in the east while others raced to do hand-to-hand battle with the humans who had breached the eastern wall and were entering the village. Tanis knew that the greatest danger wasn't from those humans. "Follow me!" he shouted to any elf who was within earshot. "We must take back the southern barricade. Whoever controls that wall will control your fate."
They were a small band of elves against an evergrowing number of humans. Tanis saw that Scowarr, bandages flapping around his head, was silently running to the attack alongside him.
"I know what you're thinking," Little Shoulders rasped as he ran. "You're thinking, 'Why isn't he making jokes now?' Well, I'll tell you why: When you're in deep water," he said, "the best thing to do is shut your mouth."
9
The human soldiers flowed over the southern barricade like water rushing over a falls. But there was a dam up ahead that sought to stop the onrushing tide, a dam not of earth and wood, but of a small phalanx of elven villagers led by Tanis. As Tanis raced into the fray, he felt a fear that was new to him. He was confident enough fighting several enemies at once; he'd done it many times. But he had never taken on so many foes without his good and true companions at his side. Yet he charged on. He was used to having Hint Fireforge on his right. waving his fearsome battle-axe, Sturm Brightblade on his left, wielding his deadly sword, and Caramon Majere tossing bodies in all directions, making his presence felt in a thousand ways. Kit's swordplay, Tas's hoopak, and Raistlin's magic could always be counted upon to help even the odds. He was fearless when he went into battle with them. He was full of fear without them.
Yet he charged on.
He had no idea if the elven villagers who raced to the battlements with him could be counted upon to fight like soldiers. In fact, he had no idea h'ow many of the elves had actually heeded his call to storm the barricades. It might have been as few as three or four or as many as twenty or thirty. He did not have the nerve to look back and count.