Southern demons defense command
Kharos was studying the latest reports inside his command tent when Rhaz pushed through the entrance.
"My lord. An urgent message from Captain Zherak."
Kharos looked up from the map.
"His battery has been attacked from the air. One Hellmaw gun has been destroyed. Five remain, but the battery has stopped firing."
The marker in Kharos’s hand struck the table.
"Stopped,care to elaborate?"
"Yes, my lord. The captain is requesting healers and smiths."
Kharos held out his hand. Rhaz passed him the message and waited while he read it.
Only that afternoon, the battery had been helping his troops force the alliance out of its shelters. He had intended to use those guns again in the next advance.
He folded the message once.
"Arrange the healers and smiths. Then come with me."
Rhaz gave the orders to a waiting officer before following him outside.
The mage stationed beside the command’s transportation array straightened as Kharos approached.
"Zherak’s battery," Kharos said.
"The supply point behind it is linked to this array, my lord. I can take you there."
"Then open it."
The mage pressed his staff against the central stone. Red light spread through the carved markings, and a wavering doorway rose above them. Through it, Kharos could see wagons standing beneath torchlight.
He stepped through with Rhaz close behind.
The smell of burned timber and flesh greeted them on the other side. A guard beside the receiving array hurried to bow, but Kharos was already walking toward the gun positions.
He stopped beside a cannon barrel lying across the supply road.
One end had buried itself in the dirt. The other still carried part of the mounting that had held it to its carriage.
He looked past it toward the ruined gun positions.
Demons were carrying wounded crewmen away on doors taken from the surviving shelters. Others dragged burned bodies into a row beside the trees. The fourth gun’s position had become a crater, with pieces of its ammunition wagon scattered around the edges.
Captain Zherak approached with one arm limp. His uniform was scorched, and dried blood covered the left side of his neck.
"My lord."
"How many dragons?"
"One, my lord."
Kharos slowly turned toward him.
Zherak held his gaze, though his jaw tightened.
"A bronze dragon. It came over the ridge while we were firing."
Kharos stepped around the fallen barrel and walked toward the guns. Rhaz followed him, picking his way through broken boards and scattered equipment.
Beside the nearest carriage, a dead mage lay with both hands still wrapped around a shattered staff. The metal bands had melted into the wood.
Kharos crouched and examined the broken ward stake beside him.
"You raised the barriers?"
"All six positions were protected before it cast," Zherak replied. "The first strikes weakened the wards. More followed before the mages could recover."
"And the Nightwings?"
"They were coming from the camp. The dragon finished before they reached us."
Kharos stood.
He had spent days watching his infantry struggle to reach alliance shelters. These guns had finally begun breaking those positions open. Now wounded demons crawled through the wreckage of the weapons that were supposed to support his next advance.
"Did anyone pursue it?"
"They followed it toward the ridge but by the time it had already gained too much distance."
Kharos’s fingers curled against his palm.
"Then they had an excellent view of its departure,am i right my captain?."
Zherak said nothing.
They soon passed the observation table. Its stone surface had split down the middle, and the dark tablet beneath it was broken into several pieces.
Othrek lay beside the fallen table.
"How many mages survived?" Kharos asked.
"None."
That stopped him longer than the sight of the ruined gun had.
The forges could send wheels and replacements but finding trained mages to replace an entire battery’s protection and observation teams especially among demons would take more than another ammunition convoy.
"They stayed at their posts," Zherak added. "Even after the first ward failed."
Kharos looked down at Othrek’s burned robes.
"I can see where they died, Captain."
Zherak lowered his head.
For several moments, the only sounds nearby came from the wounded and the demons clearing the road.
Then something cracked inside the crater.
BANG!
A small burst threw sparks above the broken earth. Two ammunition carriers dropped what they were holding and ran. An overseer caught one before he collided with the wounded demon being carried past.
Kharos pointed toward the crater.
"Keep them away from that until the remaining ammunition has stopped exploding."
"I have posted guards,my lord" Zherak said then he turned and shouted to the nearest one. "Move them farther back!"
The guard hurried to obey.
At the second gun, an Emberworks smith was kneeling beside a broken wheel. He rose when Kharos approached, wiping soot from his hands.
"Can it be repaired?"
"The wheel can, my lord. I still need to examine the rest."
Kharos placed a hand against the carriage. The timber beneath his palm was blackened, and a crack ran through the support below the barrel.
"This too?"
The smith bent closer.
"That support will have to be replaced."
"What about the other four?"
"One has a split carriage. Another was knocked onto its side. The last two are still standing, but fragments struck them when the ammunition exploded. Until we inspect the barrels and fittings, I cannot tell you which ones will fire safely."
Kharos looked toward Zherak.
"Your message said five guns remained."
"Five guns remain, my lord. I did not say they were ready to fire."
"If not for the fact that we are not having enough replacements for artillery officers,i would have nailed you to the artillery,do you know that my dear captain"
The captain’s voice was steady, but Rhaz saw him straighten despite the pain in his side.
Kharos stared at him for a moment before turning back to the smith.
"Examine them. I want to know what can be repaired here and what must go back to the forges."
"Yes, my lord."
"And no one fires one to find out whether it still works."
The smith bowed and returned to the damaged carriage.
Just then a lesser demon emerged from behind an overturned wagon, clutching a wooden ammunition box. One corner was burned, but he held it proudly against his chest.
He stopped in front of Kharos.
"I saved this, my lord."
Zherak closed his eyes briefly.
Kharos looked into the box.
It was empty.
"Excellent," he said. "Next time, throw it at the dragon."
The demon nodded with sudden enthusiasm.
"Put it with the salvage," Zherak ordered before he could reply. "Then help carry the wounded."
The demon hurried away, still pleased with himself.
Kharos watched him go before facing the captain again.
"Why was so much ammunition beside that gun?"
"The crews were firing continuously. We brought the wagons closer so the carriers could keep up."
"And put enough shells beside the carriage to throw it across the road."
Zherak glanced toward the crater.
"Unfortunately yes, my lord."
Kharos pointed at the surviving ammunition wagons.
"Separate those. Put the reserve ammunition under cover, away from the guns. Keep only what each crew needs for its immediate firing beside the carriage."
"The carriers will take longer."
"Then assign more carriers. We have plenty of these wretches capable of carrying a box when someone points them in the right direction."
Rhaz began recording the orders.
Kharos walked to the edge of the position and looked toward the ridge. It still stood between the guns and the alliance lines, exactly as it had before the attack.
From the ground, the battery had been concealed well enough.
From above, the dragon would have seen the guns, their crews and the wagons crowded beside them.
"How did it find you?"
"Probably the flashes," Zherak said. "We had been firing throughout the afternoon."
Kharos nodded once.
"The alliance will send more dragons when it learns this worked."
Rhaz looked up from his notes.
"Shall I send the warning to the other batteries?"
"Immediately. Have their officers inspect the ammunition stores and post lookouts where they can watch the sky beyond the next ridge. A warning shouted when a dragon is already above the guns is of very little use."
He turned back to Zherak.
"The Nightwings are to keep patrols in the air over the firing positions. They can rotate their formations. I want them ready to intercept an approaching dragon while it is still choosing its target."
"Their commander will ask how long you expect them to maintain that."
"As long as the guns beneath them are firing."
Rhaz bent over his notes again.
Zherak pressed his arm more firmly against his side. Blood had begun seeping between his fingers.
Kharos noticed.
"Have that treated when we are finished. Then gather your surviving gun officers. I want the crews accounted for before you start moving equipment."
"Yes, my lord."
Kharos looked again at the broken ward stakes.
"Bring the ward masters from the reserve camp," he told Rhaz. "They are to examine what happened here and strengthen the protection at the other batteries."
"Will their wards withstand another attack like this?"
"They can tell me after they have seen the damage. The Nightwings must give them less to withstand."
Behind them, the smith called for help lifting part of the damaged carriage. Three demons hurried over while a fourth stood holding the wrong end of a hauling rope until the overseer turned him around.
Kharos watched the crew struggle to move the weight.
They would spend hours clearing what the dragon had destroyed in moments. Even if the five remaining guns could be repaired, the battery would still need mages and trained crewmen before it could support another attack.
He looked toward the black wings circling above the ridge.
"Rhaz."
"My lord?"
"Bring their commander here. I want to hear why his demons arrived in time to watch and i hope he better has a excuse ready."