Sons of Ironstorm - Book 4: Griffon's Stand

The Musings of a High King

It was sometime later that found Ciradaan staring out from one of the high, narrow windows set into the thick walls of the main keep, several floors off the ground. In his hand, already somewhat worn from being handled so frequently was his copy of Shawn's revised defense. He had studied it until his eyes began to blur with fatigue. Yet, with all his own experience in battle, facing a dozen different enemies, he had yet to find a flaw in the carefully diagrammed plan.

Not that he had expected one. Quite the opposite. Shawn had a gift for tactics, a gift that turned the civil war with the Ka'thesck from what could've taken decades to mere moons. And the plan for their defense of the Dagger was as flawless. The white haired Aquilan monarch let a sigh ease out his nose. 'Frost me, we might just win this whole damn thing!' he wryly mused. Even if Shawn and Patrik refused to use their Wielder magic as part of the defense. The sigh became a snort of frustration.

Of course, Ciradaan understood the logic of such a decision. He just didn't like putting their biggest weapons back in their sheaths and forcing his warriors to fight with lesser. Why take the risk when they didn't seem to need to?

Then again, none of his command had just spent a tenday in the company of demons either, imprisoned without form or power, and unable to do anything about it. Ciradaan pursed his lips in thought. If that was their true reason for refusing to engage their full abilities, he certainly didn't blame the Wielders for taking it into consideration. Who would want to be thrust back into that formless and uncertain hell? Still, they could've been a bit more opportune in their time ...

His frustration at war with his understanding, Ciradaan felt the walls of his chamber begin to close in on him. A feeling only heightened when he caught sight of a quartet of Redeemed marching patrol on top of the defensive wall visible from his viewpoint. Things were moving almost too fast for him to keep up with ... Again. 'Time to get a little fresh air, methinks.' 

Snatching the Sword of Aesthegon up from where it had been leaning against a wall, he strode to the door and out into the hallway beyond. A swift traversal and two flights of downward stairs took the white-haired Aquilan out of the main keep and into the courtyards below where, though evening was rapidly stretching shadows over the ground, men and women, elf and human, still worked to complete their assigned tasks for the day.

Built to defend against an attack both from land and from the sea, Gorgon's Dagger was two massive D-shaped stone crescents pressed back to back, with the main keep and accompanying buildings in the direct center. The space within was then divided by heavy secondary and tertiary walls into a number of smaller courtyards and places of resort to provide resistance and points of counterattack, in case the primary gates fell or the main wall was breached. In addition to those puissant defenses, the builders had also included a full sized stable for horses in the case cavalry was deployed in addition to ground forces and artillery. 

Not possessing horses, the current defenders had converted the stable into a roofed, open-air mess, useful in the heat and humidity of the Easterling. Next to that was the full smithy, complete with several anvils, working spaces, and multiple forges, used to both make and repair weapons and armor even in the heat of battle. As Ciradaan's eyes fell on the smithy, sitting in the courtyard closest to the main keep's primary entrance, he saw both men and elves there, working stripped to the waist against both the fires of their furnaces and the late day heat.

The results of their labors were everywhere, in stacks of sword blades waiting for hilt and guard to be fitted to them, axes, spearheads, and armor in stacks of their own, each waiting for a final piece to complete their metamorphosis from raw metal, provided from the fortress's own magically replenishing stores, to finished weapon. Smiths from Mamra, Gorgon's Port and the Chain Islands worked alongside elves in Redeemed blue, representing the forces that had deployed with the intent of waging a long campaign in the field. Battle craftsmen, from smiths to engineers, carpenters, and fletchers, were invaluable in such campaigns.