Chapter 169: Battle of Silverfang Pass (2)
The Sommerdan army froze at that noise as their eyes went warily to the sides of the path. However, those at the front had realised the sound had come from behind them! War cries filled the air as dwarves rushed into the pass from both sides. Splitting the Sommerdan army into two halves. A shining sea of short figures rapidly poured into the gap created by the vanguard, creating a thick line between both parts of the Sommerdan army.
Thovok chuckled as he blocked a Skardian blade with his tower shield. ‘Let’s see how you deal with two thousand dwarves!’ He let out a throaty growl as his axe sliced through the warrior’s thigh. As the man fell to the ground screaming, Thovok slammed the bottom rim of his shield into the man’s eyes. Blinding him, but not finishing him off.
The Sommerdans struggled to adjust to fighting warriors of much smaller stature than themselves. It felt unnatural to adjust their aim to be so low, and much of the power in their strikes was lost because of this. This aggravated the number of Sommerdan casualties as they clashed with the dwarven army.
More screams came from the force trapped between the dwarven line and the Skardian wall as another volley of arrows landed in their midst. The will of the warriors in that part of the Sommerdan army began to break. Many turned to try to break through the dwarven line, while others attempted to rush the Skardian wall. All thoughts of a united front broke down as orders failed to restore order.
Thovok nodded when he noticed the dire situation that they were in. ‘It seems Harik’s plan has proven to be effective. We just have to stall the second half and prevent them from forcing a way through to reinforce the group we’ve separated from them.’ As the section that had been cut off dwindled in numbers, Thovok ordered a defensive retreat towards the wall.
This was to help finish off the warriors still alive in that area, as well as to join the Dwarven and Skardian forces together. Hours passed as lives were lost. Snow began to fall in the darkness of that night as wailing filled the air. Thovok took a deep breath as he cut down another Sommerdan warrior.
“We’re almost to the wall!” He shouted, and the dwarves cheered.
Skardian bows continued to thrum, now sending their deadly projectiles over the dwarven army to strike at the rear group of the Sommerdan force. Harik nodded silently from atop the wall as the last hundred or so enemies between him and the dwarves were slain.
A victorious yell rose from his warriors at that sight as the dwarves formed neat rows in front of the makeshift wall and faced the remaining Sommerdans. ‘Their gods haven’t shown themselves…’ Harik frowned as he studied the bloody rivers flowing down that pass. The enemy had lost over half of their numbers just to reach this point, while the dwarves had only lost around three hundred.
It was an overwhelming result. With his warriors combined with Thovok’s dwarves, they now held the numerical advantage. ‘It’s time to start the counterattack!’ He quickly called two messengers to his side as he peered at them from under his helmet.
“Send word to Bjorn and Ania. On my signal, charge!” Harik growled as they scurried off to relay his message. 𝒃𝙚𝙙𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝒍.𝒆𝒕
Harik waited to see the signal torches being raised from either side of the wall to show that they had received his orders. As both of them lit up the darkness, the Skardians began to beat their weapons against their shields. Thovok grinned at that sound as he sent his own orders to make room for the Skardians amongst their lines.
The Sommerdans had stopped their advance as they waited to see what would happen next. The volleys of arrows had stopped, but the din coming from their enemies was disheartening. Their commander frowned for a moment as the snow began to fall more heavily. Now hiding the enemy wall from view.
“Warriors! Brace yourselves! Archers! At the ready!” He roared violently as he had a premonition of what was about to come.
Wolves howled on all sides as a flash of metal could suddenly be seen through that white curtain of snowfall! Dwarves and Skardians alike fell upon the front lines like a tide of vengeance. A bloodbath ensued as shields were ripped from hands and savage attacks took place. Harik stood in the front line of the centre, with Thovok fighting by his side.
Bjorn laughed cruelly as he forced his way through the enemies on his side of the battlefield. His war hammer reduced limbs and heads to pulp with each swing. The warriors following him appeared as crazy as he was. Uncaring of any injuries they suffered, as they broke through the Sommerdan ranks.
On the other side of the clash, Ania drove her spear through a warrior’s throat. As he gurgled on his own blood, she discharged a blot of lighting from the tip! The deadly bolt pierced through shields and flesh, meeting no resistance as tens of warriors died in an instant. The dwarves and Skardians around her looked at her as if she were a goddess of war.
Her spear shone as she danced out of reach of the weapons swung at her. Before accurately piercing those who wielded them. Her eyes shone with bright determination as she swung her spear in an arc. Sweeping several warriors off their feet.
Skovi’s growls filled the air as he rushed out and tore at their throats. His wolf pack close behind as they jumped on the Sommerdan warriors, forcing them to the ground!
“Witch!” Screamed a panicked voice, as the enemies close to Ania began to back off. “She wields magic and beasts! Run!”
Lives were lost on both sides as the darkness slowly gave way to the first rays of dawn. Bjorn’s armour had more of a crimson colour to it now, as did Harik’s. Ania’s was spotless of blood, but the same could not be said for her spear. Thovok chuckled as he sat on a dead Sommerdan warrior as the front line moved past him.
‘Not a bad night of fighting.’ His brow knitted into a frown as he studied the surrounding dead. ‘Hm, out of two thousand dwarves, only eleven hundred have survived. Our battle wits have been blunted after centuries of peace…’
Harik was studying the same scene as the last sounds of battle slowly began to grow quiet. ‘Just over four hundred warriors lost…’ Harik sighed as he shook his head. The night had taken a heavy toll on the number of warriors at his command. ‘But why did their gods not make an appearance?’ His eyes wandered to the sun as it reared its head on the horizon.
The snow continued to fall, sending a chill down his spine. ‘Still, it’s a strong victory in Exile’s name.’ Harik let out a relieved sigh as he watched the survivors search the dead for any well-earned loot. ‘This should give us peace of mind… For a while at least.’ However, his expression sank when he noticed a mark on the neck of one of the dead Sommerdan warriors. He quickly searched others nearby, only to find the same mark…
Skovi filled the air with a mournful howl as he nudged the bodies of his pack. Only two of them had survived that fateful night. However, many dwarves and Skardians came to him to express their thanks and respects to the dead. During the darkness of the night, these brave wolves had saved many lives.
Ania ran a hand through his fur as he continued to howl. Tears ran freely down her cheeks as she removed her helmet. She buried her face in Skovi’s fur and wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Skovi… This is no time to mourn the dead… You should be ready. I have a feeling that Lord Exile will need you soon.” Her eyes wandered to the impassable mountains to the east.
An eagle flew overhead, staring down at that scene before flying to the east. As it flew over those barren mountains, it witnessed many fires being put out. It dove from on high toward the largest fire in the centre, where it landed on the outstretched arm of a man in extravagant clothing. The man smiled at the bird as he removed the message attached to its leg.
He handed the eagle off to a warrior beside him as he stroked his neatly trimmed black beard. He scanned the writing with a thoughtful expression before revealing a broad grin.
“What does it say?” A monotonous voice as dry as the desert itself asked.
“Lord Parthus, it bears news from the detached force you sent to the western pass in the Silverfang mountains. It has been wiped out. Let me be the first to congratulate your foresight. With this, the enemy will have suffered significant losses while failing to hurt our main force.” The man bowed as his eyes moved to the villagers chained up amongst the army. ‘If we had not caught up with them, we could have suffered terribly.’
“Hm, it was nothing. Slaves should be used to protect the interests of their masters, after all.” Parthus chuckled as his eyes turned back to the hardly noticeable path through the mountains they were travelling on. ‘It helps that these villagers we failed to seize on the coast knew of this route they’ve kept secret for generations…’