XIV
Hen Wyneb's gate was breached, but the battle was as chaotic and undecided as ever.
Kneeling between the cottages on the opposite side of the street, Talaith watched anxiously as the melee inside the Hen Wyneb compound reached a fever pitch. Naomhin's initial assault force clung precariously to their positions just inside the shattered gates, his slaves annihilated but his drow still largely intact. Fychan's mystical assault force had been pushed outside their breach in the fence, barely holding the gaping wound in the perimeter as what was left of Hen Wyneb's slaves launched a new push to expel them completely. Even Tybalt's force had stalled, their surprise lost and their slaves dying rapidly on the defenders' blades. Up above, where Athruis was supposed to be destroying the mystical forces of Hen Wyneb, fireballs and lightning bolts still lit up the catwalks and walkways of the defending house's upper levels, striking targets both along the parapets and on the battlefield below.
"Show us your favor," Talaith whispered, one hand on her spider pendant. It was a prayer she had uttered many times since Matron Saffir's decision to attack Hen Wyneb. Talaith would have far preferred an easier target, a house with fewer powerful defenders, but Matron Saffir wanted one more siege to her credit. The priestess glanced behind her, back past the hundred slaves and almost two hundred drow warriors waiting eagerly for the attack, and wished that the matron that had been so willing to take the fight to another house would have taken the lead in the final wave of the assault. Naomhin may have lusted after the rush of battle and Arwydd might have enjoyed the thrills of subterfuge, but Talaith was a high priestess of Lolth and an heir to a noble house, not some lowly spy or war captain.
Cast your devotions now, Matron Saffir's voice echoed in her mind. Talaith stiffened at the telepathic orders, but quickly did as she was told. Reverently she bowed her head, calling upon Lolth's unholy power to aid her soldiers. At each flank and in the rear, Matron Saffir and two other house priestesses cast their own prayers across the main force. Her prayer cast, Talaith lifted her eyes back to the battle before her.
"Now!" she screamed, drawing her whip and swinging it over her head. Slaves and drow alike catapulted forward, rushing for the wide open breach in the gate and the defenders trying to crush what was left of Naomhin's force. Leading the way was a single, large ettin, swinging an enormous spiked club as the two headed giant surged through the hole. Behind it, a small cadre of hobgoblin warriors rushed in, carrying large shields to deflect the worst of renewed volleys of javelins and darts for the rest of the slaves and the main drow force. The Evnissien raiders hurried over the bodies of their dead and dying comrades at the gate with wild abandon, pushing the defenders back into Tybalt's brutal duergar and slaves. Talaith hurried to the gate but paused for a moment, quickly scanning the defenders. The four monstrous trolls that Hen Wyneb had employed were now smoking corpses in the center of the courtyard, surrounded by the bodies of countless Evnissien slaves and at least a dozen of her house's drow. Hen Wyneb's elves had fallen back to the pentagram of towers, holding the entrances to those spires with grim determination. Naomhin was already pushing forward with reckless abandon, cutting down what few slaves the doomed house had left as he advanced upon the far tower. But finally Talaith found a target worth destroying; Daere Hen Wyneb commanded her forces at the closest tower on Talaith's left, smashing down on enemies with a heavy spiked flail when she was not casting spells to aid her warriors.
"Come to me, Piran," Talaith whispered, dropping to one knee. An inky darkness quickly coalesced in front of her, taking the shape of a huge, shadowy hound, its glowing green eyes locked on the priestess in front of it. Talaith patted the shadow mastiff on its head, then pointed to Daere. "Take her, Piran," she directed. The mastiff growled eagerly, then turned and rushed through the swirling melee towards the second daughter of Hen Wyneb.
This could not be happening.
"Hold them! Keep them back!" Bradwr screamed, growing more and more desperate as Evnissien's attackers continued to press forward. Only moments ago it had seemed as though Evnissien would lose the battle, but now one more push from yet another wave of attackers threatened to crush the defending house. Hen Wyneb had committed all of its slaves to the battle. Tarren, his idiot younger sister, was nowhere to be found. The mystical support from above had dwindled to an occasional fireball or lightning bolt, and all four of Hen Wyneb's battle trolls had been killed, just as a powerful two headed giant stormed through the broken gate. Quickly the elderboy glanced around the compound, being at least marginally relieved that Daere was still alive and relatively unharmed, holding strong in the face of the newest Evnissien attack.
His relief died a moment later as a pillar of brilliant white fire slammed down into her.
Bradwr's jaw dropped open as he saw his sister disappear inside that plume of flames. As the elderboy watched, his older sister staggered forward, her hair burned from her body and her robes incinerated, just in time to get bowled over by a huge, shadowy dog with glowing green eyes. Desperately his sister tried to fight off the monstrous hound, but her flail swung through nothing but shadow as the hound tore at her chest and ripped out her throat. For a moment longer Bradwr stared in horror at the grisly scene, but a feeble slash from an enemy slave snapped him back to his senses.
"No!" the elderboy screamed, jumping back into the fray with wild abandon. He may have hated Daere, but her death was a grievous blow to Hen Wyneb and Bradwr's hopes for survival. The warrior slammed his shield into the face of the kobold that had dared to attack him, turning even as he did so to slice through the defenses of a drow soldier wearing Evnissien's colors. Another dark elf moved to attack the Hen Wyneb, but Bradwr easily knocked that warrior's sword aside and drove his own blade straight through the enemy soldier. Bradwr hurled that dying drow from his sword with open fury, spinning quickly and blocking a low attack from a heavy hammer.
Bradwr barely noticed as he found himself facing a pair of stony duergar warriors. The two were experienced combatants, but Bradwr quickly countered their blows and slashed through the throat of one attacker. Even before the first dwarf fell to the ground Bradwr dropped low to the ground and spun quickly, ripping through his second foe's gut. The two duergar fell before him quickly, leaving him facing one last gray dwarf wielding a sharply triangular shield and a hammer that glowed with infernal heat.
Bradwr charged in on his opponent with a furious roar, launching a feint high and then driving low with his sword. To his surprise, the lightning strike met nothing but the duergar's shield as the dwarf knocked his blade away masterfully. Bradwr wasted no time in bringing his sword back around in a tight slash, but the duergar simply ducked low and dropped back one step before launching a vicious counter of his own. Bradwr was barely in time to deflect the deceptively quick strike, but even then the force of the duergar's blow reverberated through his shield arm. Snarling in rage, Bradwr launched into a dizzying assault, sending his sword in a flurry of blows that came in from every possible angle. Still the duergar remained stony and emotionless, ducking under high slashes and calmly knocking away lower lunges, turning aside every attack that Bradwr could devise. Again and again Bradwr tried to cut his foe down, growing more and more frustrated as the dwarf refused to even show any sign of emotion as he countered the elderboy's every strike. Finally Bradwr brought his sword down in a heavy overhand chop, determined to cut through his enemy's shield if need be.
His strike was on target and true, but at the last moment the duergar hopped backward. Bradwr's sword slammed into the ground, sending chips of stone flying, but before he could lift his weapon again the dwarf pounced forward, bringing his hammer down near the crossguard of his sword with enough force to tear the blade free of his grasp. Bradwr's eyes widened in shock for only a moment before the duergar's hammer snapped back up from the ground, shattering his jaw and searing his face with the force of the blow and the weapon's unholy heat. Dazed and reeling, his vision blurry, and unarmed, Bradwr could barely keep track of his foe before he stumbled back into the surge of Evnissien attackers.
He would have preferred to spill noble blood himself, but for the moment he would have to let Tybalt take the credit.
Bradwr was barely dead on the ground before Naomhin was rushing past him, ignoring his rival elderboy in his push for the far tower. The largest of Hen Wyneb's towers held the house chapel and the nobles' quarters, the strongest remaining point of defense for the Fifteenth House. From the lower balconies above, poisoned javelins and darts still rained down on the attacking Evnissiens, interspersed with vials of alchemical fire that exploded into brilliant plumes of fire on impact. Those attacks were of secondary concern to Naomhin as he dodged between plumes of fire and errant missiles, however, as he focused on the heavy steel doors of the tower and the Hewn Wyneb drow desperately trying to close them.
"Cut them down!" the elderboy bellowed, glancing around him desperately for a spellcaster of some sort. Arwydd was locked in hand to hand combat, ducking behind her shield and lashing out with her serpentine blade when the opportunity presented itself, while Pryderi was busy launching a series of fireballs up into the higher levels of the tower to stop Hen Wyneb's mages from casting their own spells at will. Frantically the elderboy pushed himself harder, even opening himself to attacks from the remnants of Hen Wyneb slaves as he raced for his goal. "Stop them before they seal the tower!"
Two drow moved to stop him, hastily linking shields in front of him. Naomhin dropped low and hacked through one opponent's leg, springing back to his feet just as the second moved forward to chop down on him. The elderboy's long sword easily parried away the heavy overhand attack even as his short sword darted in past the soldier's shield, ripping through his hip just below the protection of his chain shirt. As his two foes dropped to the ground, however, the tower doors slammed shut. Naomhin turned quickly as a final ogre slave charged him, but before he could even strike it down a searing ray of fire burned through it. To the elderboy's faint surprise, the ogre's collapse revealed Fychan behind it, a smirk on his ash covered face.
"You seem surprised, brother," the secondboy quipped, joining his older sibling. "The time and place for my ascent is not here or now."
"Enough," Naomhin said, turning back to the sealed tower. A last fireball exploded along the lower balconies, but the final bastion of Hen Wyneb's strength now seemed impenetrable. Arwydd skidded to a stop next to her brothers, then turned back to the soldiers behind them.
"Get the ram!" the priestess demanded, pointing anxiously to the huge ram that the ogres had used on the main gate. Naomhin glanced around quickly for any other method of entry, but for the moment nothing presented itself. A score or so of Hen Wyneb's soldiers had surrendered and any slave left standing had thrown themselves upon the mercy of the attacking house, but a partial surrender would not be near enough. Fighting still raged through the other towers, meaning a long, bloody battle across narrow walkways and catwalks to reach the chapel tower. Even the ram seemed useless; the ogre gate crashers had all been killed, and even the remnants of Evnissien's orcish slaves seemed ill suited to use such a monstrous device.
"Stand aside, elf," an icy, harsh voice growled out. Naomhin turned back to see a gaunt, disgusting duergar practically push Arwydd out of the way, his dead blue eyes locked on the tower in front of him. Fuming with rage, Arwydd turned to follow the emaciated dwarf, but Tybalt stepped easily into her path.
"If you want the tower open, you'll let Rollo be," the mine boss stated simply.
"You are not in charge here," Arwydd snarled, her knuckles turning white as her grip tightened on the hilt of her sword. Tybalt simply folded his arms across his burly chest, practically daring the priestess to turn on her duergar allies in the midst of the battle. Rollo had already reached the tower, however, and as Naomhin watched the duergar placed his palm flat against the stone wall of the tower. After a brief pause, the gray dwarf simply plunged his hands through the stone and shoved open a gaping hole in the tower.
Neither one seemed capable of taking an advantage, but the stalemate was good enough for his purposes.
Athruis had to admit, however, that he was surprised by the sheer skill and talent of his adversary. What little had ever been mentioned of House Hen Wyneb's weaponmaster had focused far more on his constant chatter and sloppy attitude than his fighting prowess, but seeing him in action proved to the Evnissien that his counterpart was a true master of his weapons. Llawr used the narrow balcony and the abutting catwalk to his advantage, pushing Athruis against the sagging railings where he could limit the effectiveness of Athruis' double sword. The Hen Wyneb struck lightning quick at his foe while not giving in to any false opening or feint that Athruis employed, while his barbed pick flashed into the path of any of Athruis' own strikes or hooked onto his double sword to pull his defenses out of line.
"You must be getting old, Athruis," Llawr taunted, a broad smirk stretched across his face despite the pair of long, shallow slashes along his arms and the rips in his tunic that revealed his enchanted chain mail shirt. "After everything I heard about you in the Academy, I expected you to best me easily!"
Athruis bit back on a snarling retort, refusing to be taken off guard by his rival's chatter. Already the Hen Wyneb had scored a painful gouge to his thigh from his pick, and his sword had left a pair of slashes on his arm and hip just below his own armor. Neither weaponmaster was near falling yet, however, and as Athruis glanced across the battlements his frustration was replaced with a cold grin. Every moment Llawr was forced to fight Athruis was a moment that House Hen Wyneb dearly missed their best fighter. Fire and lightning exploded through the catwalks and balconies, finally driving Hen Wyneb's spellcasters from the balconies and walkways. Below them, House Evnissien had pushed the defenders to the bases of the towers.
"You should have surrendered when you had the chance, Llawr," Athruis pointed out, his icy smile growing faintly. "Your house is doomed."
"We haven't lost yet," Llawr countered, although his voice had lost a trace of its initial confidence. The Hen Wyneb launched a vicious attack, slamming down with his pick on Athruis' sword and striking high with his own blade, but the Evnissien ducked low and skipped backward before the razor sharp edge could slice into his face. Quickly Athruis swept forward, driving his opponent back a step as he pushed himself away from the narrow catwalk and back into the center of the balcony. Still Llawr pressed the attack, reversing momentum to attack with his pick and defend with the sword, but Athruis was not fooled by the shifting strategy and kept pace with his enemy. Llawr dropped to one knee, lashing out at Athruis' legs with his pick while his sword stabbed up to impale the Evnissien's chest, but once again Athruis skipped back out of reach of the weapons to the edge of the balcony.
Athruis realized the tactic only a heartbeat too late. Athruis launched himself forward, trying to find his way away from the railing, but Llawr was ready for the move, cutting him off before he could move back to the center of the balcony. Athruis' double sword deflected off of the railing behind him as he tried to bring it back in line, opening up a hole for only the briefest instant, but Llawr was counting on just such an error. The Hen Wyneb's pick slammed home into Athruis' side, breaking through chain links and punching into his flesh. As the Evnissien stifled a scream of pain, Llawr shoved forward with all his strength, pinning his foe to the disintegrating railing as he twisted the barbed tip of his weapon in Athruis' side.
"With you gone, your house falls," Llawr growled, his malicious grin only inches from Athruis' face. The Evnissien could feel the railing giving way beneath him as waves of agony shot up through his side, but with his sword pinned against the railing by Llawr's blade, there was no way to bring his weapon to bear against his opponent.
With the last reserves of his strength Athruis forced himself forward, using his head as a weapon. He could feel Llawr's nose shatter under the impact of his forehead, the shock of the sudden pain knocking Llawr back on his heels. Athruis wasted no time in pushing himself forward, charging forward and impaling his rival to the central hilt of his double sword. Llawr screamed out in pain as the blade sliced through him and then ripped back out, but before he could even drop to one knee Athruis' blades spun quickly, taking the Hen Wyneb's head from his shoulders.
"Ladders! Bring more ladders!"
"Get up there and take them out!" Naomhin ordered sternly, shoving his soldiers forward. Rollo had breached the impenetrable stone walls of the chapel tower with a simple push, molding the stone into a hole large enough for two drow to enter side by side, but although they had taken the lowest level of the tower the last of Hen Wyneb's defenders still fought viciously to hold the upper levels. What few spellcasters were left dropped their final magic missiles or lightning bolts down the interior, while darts and javelins continued to rain down on the attackers. The last of Fychan's hobgoblin mercenaries used their long shields to turn aside the worst of the missile attacks, while the drow attackers struggled to lift their collapsible ladders into place against the sheer walls of the interior.
"We'll never win this fight this way!" Arwydd snapped, moving up alongside her brother. The priestess raised her shield just as a javelin streaked down at them, turning the weapon aside with a loud clank. "They'll slaughter us down here like this!"
"Then cast a flame strike!" Naomhin shot back, turning on his sister. "Or perhaps the Spider Queen only favors Talaith and Rhonwen with such magic!"
"Watch your tongue, male, or I'll cut it out!" Arwydd threatened, nearly forgetting the battle to deal with the elderboy.
"Fight each other afterward!" Pryderi interrupted, shoving between the two siblings. Naomhin nearly cut the wizard's arm off at the elbow for daring to touch him, but stopped himself in time to let Arwydd's new toy snap his wrist forward and loose a lightning bolt up through the tower. A half dozen defenders screamed in pain as the bolt ripped through them, buying precious time for a cadre of drow warriors to scramble up their ladders to the landings some two stories above ground. Without waiting for the two Evnissien nobles, Pryderi levitated up through the center of the tower, casting one more magic missile to finish off a particularly stubborn Hen Wyneb warrior. Not to be outdone by the upstart, Naomhin quickly followed suit, landing next to the wizard in front of the powerful double doors to the Hen Wyneb chapel. Other soldiers scrambled up to the landings, quickly taking the surrender of a half dozen battered Hen Wyneb defenders. Above them, thunder still rumbled through the towers from rival spellcasters, but already the sounds of battle were dying away as House Hen Wyneb began to realize its inevitable defeat.
"Can you open it?" Naomhin asked, turning to the wizard.
"I haven't the spells," Pryderi answered. He tucked his wand back into his belt. "I've gotten you this far. I have nothing left."
Naomhin cursed under his breath as he glanced over his shoulder. Already the landing was full of Evnissien drow, but although they were all fine warriors none of them had the ability to open the stone doors to the Hen Wyneb chapel. Arwydd landed next to Pryderi, but she too had exhausted her spells, if she even had the strength to open the door in the first place. Once again, however, Rollo stepped forward, followed by Tybalt and a half dozen of the duergar warriors.
"Can you?" Naomhin asked simply. Rollo barely nodded as he pushed past the elderboy.
"Very talkative," Pryderi noted, watching the duergar place his hands against the massive stone doors. For a long moment Rollo remained motionless, his body slowly beginning to slump forward against the doors.
Rollo suddenly shoved his arms straight. The doors buckled for a moment before slamming open, shattering the barrier beneath his hands. Naomhin hesitated for only a heartbeat before leading his soldiers into the chapel.
The last of Hen Wyneb's defenders were inside the chapel, waiting for the final assault. Matron Ceridwen herself struck from the opposite end of the chapel, calling down flame strikes on the lead attackers but thankfully missing Naomhin. Duergar and drow alike stormed into the chapel, with Rollo even adding another pair of small earth elementals to the attack to guard the duergar spearhead that pushed into the center of the chapel. Arwydd quickly fanned out to Naomhin's right, but the elderboy had already found his target on the left side of the chapel, using her spells to devastating effect against the last surge of attackers.
Two of his soldiers followed him in, following the elderboy to Banon Hen Wyneb. The priestess spat out a vile curse at him, but the elderboy could feel its effects wither to nothing against him as the Spider Queen began to abandon House Hen Wyneb to its fate. Her eyes widening in shock, Banon barely had time to react to her foes, parrying desperately with her shield as she drew a heavy spiked mace. Naomhin's blades were turned aside as the high priestess crushed the skull of Naomhin's one subordinate, but two more soldiers stepped in quickly to continue the attack on her. Banon was certainly a talented fighter, but even her desperation could not stop the drow attacking her. One more soldier fell to Banon's wild swings, but her attack on his underling gave Naomhin the opening he needed. His long sword ripped through armor and flesh alike as he found his way under Banon's shield, knocking her back and to one knee. Naomhin and his soldiers fell upon the wounded priestess with wild savagery, practically tearing her limb from limb as they buried her beneath them. Grinning in bloodlust, Naomhin turned to the last Hen Wyneb priestess on her feet, his eagerness only amplified by the look of terror on Matron Ceridwen's face. Swiftly the elderboy vaulted Banon's unidentifiable corpse and rushed headlong across the blood slick chapel floor, following a bolt of lightning that stopped the matron's final prayer. Arwydd reached the dazed enemy matron at the same moment, and the two drew their swords back to strike the killing blow on their enemy.
"Enough!" A powerful voice bellowed through the chapel. Naomhin's sword stopped only inches from Matron Ceridwen's exposed throat. Matron Ceridwen's terrified eyes were locked on her apparent executioner, but reluctantly Naomhin and Arwydd sheathed their weapons. The elderboy and his sister both looked back to their own matron as Saffir Evnissien made her way through the corpses and rubble littering the chapel, flanked on one side by Hetwn and the other by Talaith.
"Matron Saffir," Ceridwen said hastily, trying to scramble to her feet. Naomhin and Arwydd grabbed the doomed matron and shoved her down against the altar. "Matron Saffir, you have won! I… I place myself in your service!"
"You place yourself in my service," Matron Saffir echoed, smiling coldly down at the trapped Hen Wyneb. "You know the laws, Ceridwen. No survivors. How would I ever be able to trust that you would not accuse me of destroying your house?"
"I will never betray you!" Ceridwen promised. "You are my matron! I am your servant! Spare me, please!"
"Such a powerful matron laid low," Hetwn observed. "It is almost a pitiable sight, Matron Saffir. I trust your judgment, my dear matron, but can we truly trust one who turns her back on her loyalties so easily?"
"You are correct, my dear patron," Saffir said, turning to Hetwn. The wizard reached into the folds of his robes to produce a vicious spider shaped dagger. Ceridwen struggled for a moment to escape, but Naomhin and Arwydd slammer her back into the altar, roughly tossing her onto her back.
"I am sure the Demon Queen of Spiders will accept your soul into her web, to be by her side," Matron Saffir said, raising the dagger over her head. Two more drow quickly moved to subdue Ceridwen as Naomhin tore her robes and stripped off her chain mail to expose her breast.
"No! Don't do this! I am worth more to you alive!" Ceridwen shrieked, struggling frantically against her captors.
"The sacrifice for our victory, the heart of my enemy matron, as promised to you, my Queen," Saffir intoned. Ceridwen's screams for mercy ended abruptly as the eight legs of the spider dagger punched through her chest and plunged into her heart.