Free The Powterosian War (Book 5) by C. Craig Coleman Page A

With a nervous smiling glance at the sentry, he followed the general back down inside the fortress.
    The griffins calmed after a while and began to scratch about among the corpses, scattered around the plain before Feldrik. They pecked the flesh off the bones. It was a gruesome sight and the sentry felt nauseous watching it.
    The next morning, the same sentry was again back at his post. After what must have been a conference with Pindradese, the goblin mounted his dragon and flew around the fortress. The frightened archers on the battlements shot arrows at the lesser dragon, but it flamed any that flew too near it. The goblin circled the fortress several times then back to the griffins. He rounded them up and herded his charges to the east. As they were leaving, the sentry rushed back down the tower stairs to inform the commander of the change. He was on an eastern wall tower watching them recede in the distance.
    “Glad they didn’t attack us here,” the sentry said.
    “Where ever they’re heading, it’s going to be ugly when that lot attacks,” the general mumbled, stroking his beard. He looked at the sentry. “Better get back to your post; it’s going to be another long day.”
    The sentry went back to the highest tower to resume his watch. Prince Pindradese rode behind his disgruntled army, threatening them to press the siege. Again that day, they didn’t attack but kept Feldrik locked down, its garrison unable to destroy Pindradese or relieve the siege at the capital.
    “What’s that, I wonder? Looks like a woman riding beside Prince Pindradese?” the sentry mumbled, pointing to the sight for his counterpart.
    “That must be Lady Demonica we were warned about,” the other sentry said, shaking his head. “She’s gone over to their side. I bet that broke the duke’s heart.”
    “Lost both son and daughter, one right after the other.”
    Both shook their heads and resumed their watch in silence.
    * * *
    After dropping off the griffins on the shore at Dreaddrac, the Dreaddrac admiral had turned his war galleys south. With only a few cargo vessels for supplies, he set sail down the Tixosian Sea toward Olnak.
    * * *
    General Bor left the Munattahensenhov as strained as a rock creature could be. He hurried back to his army huddled in the tunnel below the Hador pass.
    “We got to open this passage and fast,” Bor told his aide immediately upon arrival. The king says General Vylvex is cut off and will soon run out of supplies if we don’t get more of them orcs and supplies through this tunnel.”
    “We’ve been working at it since them sneaky dwarves turned that there whingtang to granite,” the aide said.
    “Where’re we now?” Bor asked.
    “They’re half way through the shaft, maybe a bit more. We gots to move all that mud and rock someplace. We can’t move it outside during daylight. It’s slow going.”
    “Well, we better get on with it. The king is impatient. We’ll all be crushed gravel under a road bed soon if we don’t get this tunnel open.”
    * * *
    Up above in Hador, Duke Jedrac sat on his ducal throne in the all but empty audience hall with Wizard Hendrel. Torches flickered eerily on the walls, casting dark shadowy movements in the deserted chamber.
    “Being cut off from everything is maddening,” Jedrac said. He looked at Hendrel. “I suppose you know we’re running out of arrows to defend the city with, against an eventual orc attack. The garrison commander has asked citizens to contribute any straight wood that we could make into arrows, but that won’t go far. We’ll be tearing out wood from buildings soon.”
    “You must conserve the arrows. They do no good against the rock-dwarves.”
    “I’m disgusted that, in this crisis, we’re cut off and useless when the king needs our aid most,” Jedrac said. He rubbed his brow hard leaving white, then red finger trails on his forehead. “Is there nothing we can do?”
    “All we have is a good supply of rock,” Hendrel