Heroes of Magic and Might
Chapter 29 – Night raid
…
The hour is late when wicked things come, and this is well known. A watch must be set, must be kept at such hours, lest such things, as described to be wicked, may find themselves in and have their way. Set the watch, keep the watch, steady watch, ready watch.
The kobold marched the watch along the wall, howling at one end 'all's well' before setting his march to return to the tower. All were riled from the afternoons work. They hadn't had 'visitors' more than thrice since setting down stakes and something in the blood pulsed eagerly for more.
Traitorous blood, the dames did say. No more we want, just go away. They were always like that, so antisocial. It confused the dog men, who were by nature packish creatures and despised being alone.
What did they care if more came? If a hundred, a thousand came, it was all the same to them. They would greet them thusly with much courtesy before sending them on their way, as they'd done that afternoon. What an exciting time. Especially the part with the strange man who'd gotten on the wall.
This kobold had not seen the man, but mouths talked, as was their design, and ears heard, because what else were they good for, kobolds didn't wear hats. There'd been much excitement, a good bit of scurrying and several other things of a less dignified nature. Good fun all round.
But now the fun was over, and it was back to work, marching up and down the wall. It was such boring work, especially after so eventful an afternoon.
The kobold trudged which was quite improper for a watch, but he was tired, it was late, the day hung heavy like a coat of lead, dragging him down. He yawned, then again, the two yawns met, took a liking, moved in together, and by and by there was a third.
With all this yawning it can be forgiven the squirrel was able to sneak up on his front, what with squirrels being a sneaky bunch by both temper and tradition. He jumped a little to keep his foot from trodding the little rodent, black eyes so big the glint of moonlight on the shining orbs shone like tiny stars.
The jolt of adrenaline faded quickly, and the strangeness of a squirrel sitting in the middle of the way staring at him crept to the back of his mind and into the nearest bunk where it would not be heard from again till morning. After which it would be quickly forgotten in favor of more important things.
Once again, the yawns produced heirs, and the kobold matched stares with the curious tree rodent. A poor sort of match, the kobold was losing badly. His eyes were so heavy, they blurred, they lied. The tiny stars in the large black eyes seemed to turn green, but the moment quickly passed, and the whole wide world, as the kobold could see, turned a dark, and comfortable black.
… Bad dogs, no biscuit
The kobold toppled over backward as the spell took hold, stopping halfway, held up by some unseen agent that slowly lowered it the rest of the way to the floor.
"Well done Harry," a voice whispered from a patch of thick air, the only kind known to produce words at any volume.
The squirrel preened, adopting a faux humility that faded quickly and he was once again all business. Gesturing for the air to follow, he scampered in bursts toward the tower and the open door where a faint light glowed from within.
Three more kobolds sat around in varying states of consciousness. One was reading something under the flickering candlelight while the other two sat nodding off, their duty discharged or waiting to be in which case why not catch a few winks while no one was looking.
The squirrel looked, and when the squirrel looked, people slept. The two halfway to dreamland were tossed on the bullet train and there in short order. The reader was harder, he had to get on the table and get his attention and doing that made the kobold more aware and less susceptible.
But the squirrel persisted; harmless in appearance the kobold let down his guard, then let down his master, then let down his head to rest on his book. The squirrel sighed, of deep relief.
"That was a close one," the thick air said.
"Almost thought we were made," Harry agreed, resuming form.
A moment later, thick air was filled with Bill Baggs, a small unadorned ring slipped discreetly into his pocket. "Best get a move on, afore someone raises the alarm."
The two crept to the door, listened for any hint of presence, then, finding none, opened the door and scurried into the dark. The stairs led down to the ground floor and another door which snored softly.
A quick inspection revealed not a slumbering door, but a slumbering guard. For shame on him, yet at the same time bless his weary hide. It was much easier to send him into a deeper sleep from which he'd not wake till woken, than have to explain their presence to his groggy doggy brain.
And let's not forget they'd still the other side of the wall to wrangle.
"I'll manage the wall; you find the mechanism that raises the gate."
A mutual nod, both vanished from perception in their chosen way. A squirrel scampered up an unfamiliar set of stairs, and a patch of thick air went hunting for the metaphorical doorknob.
Returning in short order from a guardhouse full of sleeping kobold, the squirrel found the thick air surrounded, and not only surrounded but visible, corporeal, with sharp pointy bits leveled in his direction.
The small man was amazingly collected given his situation, meaning he had yet to shit his pants or say anything that might get him full of the sharp pointys, quite the accomplishment since his mouth seemed to be running a mile a minute with the sort of pointless yet polite gobble that constitutes most tea parties.
One can only imagine where he acquired so much of it.
"You really would not believe the weather of late, by jove that is a lovely spear, did you do that comb over yourself, how is your mother, we really must do this more often, this is lovely, don't you think this is lovely, I think this is lovely."
It was a mental sprint to find a solution. He thought almost as fast as Bill's mouth was running. Their crescent moon formation had everyone looking away from him, giving him carte blanche, as it were, so long as carte blanche was performed quietly, and quickly.
"And I really just cannot get over this weather and I, uh, oh. Oh my."
The small man alone saw Harry go to work; distracted by their quarry, the kobolds didn't even know they were under attack till it was too late.
"You alright?"
Bill nodded, then stopped to let his brain catch up with his heart and tell her the race was over.
"I don't mind saying, I was a little worried there."
"How did they find you?" Harry asked, levitating the conglomerate of statues out of the way, removing their pointy bits from the vicinity of Bill.
"Sniffed me out I'm afraid," he admitted. "Hadn't thought of that, though it seems obvious now that I think about it."
"Good learning opportunity," said Harry, pulling a torch from his pocket and lighting it with a snap of his fingers. "Anything that doesn't kill you…"
"Sends you to your room for a clean pair of pants," said Bill.
It was close enough.
The raising of the gate was a tricky affair. There were levers and weights and counterweights and all sort of apparatus neither fully understood. They managed to make it work, though the noise was something dreadful. If the tower didn't know they were there before, they did now.
"Let's hope their spellcaster is a heavy sleeper," said Harry, placing the torch in the now open maw of the tower, the signal to the rest who watched silent from the trees.
Deep, or slow, the invading force were within meters of the gate before anything happened. The skeletons began to pull themselves from the ground, then stopped halfway, when their constituent parts became something other than the standard composition of calcium and other minerals; limestone not normally being a thing found in bones, either human or lizard.
"Looks like you were right?" said Harry as Rosebud trotted past the stoned bones.
"You doubted?"
"Did I say that?"
Someone cursed on seeing the stoned kobolds and Harry received several looks from the bunch that hadn't seen him do that trick before.
"It seems, an odd way to die," Hamma remarked, though not in a way that suggested it was a protest.
"They aren't dead," said Harry. "I can change them back if I want. The spell may wear off on its own eventually. We better get moving."
Their group was large, so they split into two teams and searched up each side of the tower. It was quickly apparent there was magic at work. The first floor alone was at least three times larger than it should have been and filled with every manner of room.
Bedrooms for one, not counting the barracks where more kobolds slept, especially well once Harry was done. Storerooms held food and other such goods, and a wine press/distillery raised more than a few brows, two at a time in most cases.
Along the way they found numerous traps, mundane and magical. Bill, the burglar, had an eye for such things, the mundane at least, as did Rosebud who just had eyes too keen by half. Cherry, the fairy, was a good gauge of magic and steered them around several things, Harry assumed, they were in no position to deal with.
They met on the other side, compared notes, then returned to a small door on the right.
"There's a set of stairs on the other side going up," Harry explained.
"We found something that looked like it must lead to a basement," said Rosebud. "Maybe we should try that."
Harry shook his head, "The people who threw that fireball won't be in the basement," he reasoned. "They'll be at the top."
"Long way up," she said.
"Then we better get moving. We can't expect to keep sneaking around. They'll know we're here sooner or later. Best use the advantage while we have it."
He gripped the door handle and pulled.
The noise was deafening.
"I think they know we're here," Rosebud cried over the cacophony of bells.
"Tell me something I don't know," he shouted back.
"I think your sleep spell won't work around this."
Dazed and confused, the kobolds staggered out of the barracks, half dressed and fumbling with their weapons but still, awake.
"Shit!"
"My thoughts exactly."
"Everyone through here," Harry ordered. "We need to get to the top and fast."
"You really think that'll work?" she asked as the group quickly filed through the door.
"We won't find the ones in charge down here," he reasoned. "If I were doing this I'd be at the top of the tower."
"Oh, really? Anything else you'd do that we should know about?"
"Yeah. I'd lock you in a small box in the basement where I wouldn't have to hear your sass."
The vampire grinned at his scowling face, "You say the sweetest things."
And Harry did groan, "Good grief."
… Twenty lashes, then we'll see how we feel
A murmur ran through the crowd, why were they there, what was happening? The great hall was crowded like it hadn't been since the Triwizard tournament, and the weight of anticipation was heavier than it had ever been.
The staff table had been removed, and Co stood at the center where the headmaster's seat usually was. Those near enough to see saw a face like chiseled blue stone, flawless, emotionless. It made them wish they were somewhere in the back.
"Denizens of Hogwarts," he spoke in a calm even tone that somehow still managed to reach the back. "When I took possession of this castle, and took you all under my protection, I did so believing certain things were understood. It would appear that I was mistaken."
Chills ran down spines as everyone began to wonder who had done what. More than one glance was made to the armed men standing around the room, none of whom would return so much as an acknowledging glance.
"Earlier today, an argument turned into something else. Violence was done, violence, with magic."
Which was quickly understood as, one of you attacked one of us, since this was still the mindset of most, them and us.
"In the short time I have been here I have heard no small amount of griping, and I, foolishly, thought it was just that. There's certainly been no shortage of griping among my own men, though most of them have the good sense not to do it where they think I can hear them."
The small joke received a weak laugh, betraying the nerves winding tighter with each passing moment.
"Tonight, I aim to make an example, one for all of you to see. See, and remember, what happens when the rules are broken, when trust is betrayed, and when people are hurt for no damn good reason."
The crowd jumped at the moan of the doors, and all turned to see a bedraggled figure led in, or more accurately, carried in, by a pair of satyrs. Even those who'd never met him had to know by the brassy hair, it was Ron Weasley hauled to the head of the room and tossed down in front of Co.
"Ronald Weasley."
The addressed Weasley struggled to look up, his whole body shook.
A nod to the two satyrs and he was roughly stripped of his shirt, left cowering on his knees as Dolores Umbridge approached from behind Co with a well-oiled cat o nine tails in her hand.
"Sartoryus!"
From the side panel, another satyr approached. One arm was held in a sling tightly bound to his chest. Dots were connected, two plus two equaled five, and people gasped as they realized what was about to happen.
"I think we'll start with twenty, then see how we feel," said Co, nodding to Umbridge who passed the cat over to the injured satyr. "Whenever you're ready."