The Three Charms

by Brian Spielbauer

  Erol and Gile tracked the group for many days, trailing them through the roughest territory on the western side of Lemuria. Over mountains, and at times under, and through forest and marsh this chase occurred. They killed several of the goblins along the way, but the main pack remained. Erol also was aware the goblins had other beasts with them, giant lions they seemed to be. The chase eventually took them to the coast of Lemuria and the white sandy beaches that overlooked the ocean and the far-off island of Sundaland.

  Erol hid just inside the tree line. He was a fully-grown ogre, his gigantic head barely concealed within the tree tops. The night before they located the camp of the goblins and Erol sent Gile to drive them south back toward him. They hoped to capture the goblins in between and shatter their filthy ranks. Both weary warriors wanted this over, so they could return to the comforts of Tunder Bin, at least until the next orders inevitably came down.

  The continuous comforting rhythm of waves breaking on the beach lulled Erol to the edge of sleep. Far off screams rudely interrupted his near slumber. The clamor kept growing louder until Erol finally saw a small troop of goblins scurrying in front of Gile. The dragon picked a few off as he galloped down the wet sand along the shore, chomping his foe as he went. Erol rushed out in front of the escaping goblins, ambushing their trapped prey. “Circles dup troops! Weez trapped!” The fattest of the fat goblins spewed, but his look was not of terror.

  The chief goblin, his lofty title due to his enormous girth and putrid smell, which far exceeded the obesity and putridness of the other obese and putrid smelling slugs, lifted his horn. He smiled a nearly toothless sneer at Erol as he blew the alarm. The broken sound announced the final dislodging the last tooth, which bounced its way through the regretful horn. The horrid sound then dissipated off the forest and again out to sea. Erol and Gile both paused as roars answering the call erupted throughout the forest before them.

  “Something comes for us!” Erol uttered, looking to the forest.

  With Erol and Gile’s attention distracted, the trapped goblins retreated toward the forest edge, cheering for whatever was hiding there to emerge. The two warriors of Tunder Bin closed their gap. For the first time in many days, fear crept into the minds for what awaited them. The stalkers became the stalked.

  “Be ready,” Erol murmured, as much to himself as Gile. The dragon spread his stance a bit and lowered his body closer to the sandy beach. Gile’s head hovered just above the ground, while his tail extended far above the water as it dangled out into the ocean tides. He was ready for the fight.

  The trees swayed back and forth, as an unseen force made its way to the beach. The sounds of the trampling feet and harking orders of an army filled the air.

  Out from the forest strode several beasts, each ridden by three goblins. The animals had the bodies of massive lions, even larger than the cats of Tegan and Telon. To make matters worse, the bodies had three heads. One was that of a lion and on either side the head of a dragon and a ram. The tail was that of a snake, with the back of the torso covered by a bone spiked shell for protection. From this bony back protruded three large necks, with each neck supporting one of the wicked heads. On each neck rode a goblin to control the head. Though it started as a chase of close to twenty goblins, it turned into a battle with hundreds of stout goblins and warlike chimeras. Erol knew they were in a tough spot. “Stay calm Gile. They can only attack us from one side.”

  Gile brewed a particularly heinous batch of fire to spew into the enemy, his head rising high to hold back the flood of fire that greatly desired to come forth. Erol made sure his bracers were tight and ready. He carried no shield or weapon on this venture, which he now considered a mistake. They strode forward from the breaking tide at their backs toward the oncoming enemy that strode down from the higher tree line.

  A gurgling sound in the angry sea churned behind them, giving Erol an uncomfortable feeling. Despite the noise, his concentration remained on the mass of foe before him.

  “Stay close and back to back. As long as we keep them in front, we will still take them as they come, one by one!” Erol didn’t know a lot, but he knew how to fight. To his surprise, the goblins did not attack. They were holding their ground, waiting for something.

  Erol began looking around the beach, trying to see what was to come next. Something behind them blocked out the setting sun. It cast a wicked shadow on the beach before them and an enormous one at that. Erol’s shadow was gone, but in its place, was that of a dragon head. Erol felt a lump form in his throat. He and Gile both slowly turned to see not one head but many, on the beast that belched forth from the sea.

  “Da ‘ydra dis ‘ere!” the goblin chief gurgled.

  A hydra arrived at the fight and not by accident. It was without doubt what the goblins were waiting for as they mocked the mighty warriors caught between them. “What’r yaz doin’ ‘ow, bastadz!”

  Erol and Gile paused as the hydra, a dragon far larger than Gile, with ten vicious heads, waded onto the beach. The gigantic weight sunk the beach as the sands started pouring toward it. The goblins, on cue, launched their battle toward the pinched, outnumbered, and outsmarted enemy.

  Gile turned on the goblins while Erol tried to fend of the enormous hydra. Luckily, for Erol and Gile, the Hydra didn’t breathe fire, something water dragons were unable to do. The hydra heads began swooping at Erol, who shoved and punched at each gnarly skull, fending off the varied attack.

  Gile leaned back, letting loose a spew of fire that ignited many goblins and one chimera. Even at the amazing display of destruction, the enemy continued to emerge from the forest as the battle continued. Arrows and spears rained through the air, pelting both Gile and Erol. There would be no escape. The two friends would either fight their way out or die there on the beach.

  Erol would not sit back, as the darting heads came faster at him. It would only be a matter of time before he missed a block and a set of jaws clamped down on him. Instead, he charged the enormous creature, who was not ready for the surprising tactic. He bolted past the many poisonous fangs protruding from its open jaws, getting inside the first and most dangerous line of defense.

  There was very little after the heads to fear from the hydra, as the heads were always enough to win a battle. Erol easily scampered up, as the thick dragon necks were not flexible enough to reach that close to their base. He finally reached the highest spot where the necks emerged from the body like branches on a tree. He began pounding and wrenching at the necks, trying to break them off. “I need to carry a sword!” Erol regretfully yelled to himself.

  The dragon heads of the hydra turned on Erol as he attained the high point, one they were able to reach. They frantically tried to remove the intruder from their back before he did too much damage. Many times, it bit at him, and each time it missed the skilled and nimble warrior. Erol managed to snap a neck as the dragon wailed in pain, the neck and head falling limp into the bloody sea. But the pause in the dragon was not for more than a moment before the next head renewed the attack. Erol was the faster at every turn, snapping the necks of the hydra one by one. The dragon could not fight with the dead weight slowing it down. Much to Erol’s surprise, it quickly chomped down on the useless dead necks, spitting the worthless flesh into the water. After ridding itself of the carnage, the six heads still alive attacked with revived vengeance. This beast was set to win at all costs, even if it had to chew its own heads off.

  Another head lurched at Erol, jaws ready to sink. Erol blocked it with his bracer covered arm. Sparks flew as the teeth grated against the steal. The strong bite put the dwarf made links to the test as the vice-like jaw attempted to crush the arm and deliver its venom.

  “Ahhh!” Erol bellowed in pain as the bracer began to crush his forearm. With his free hand, Erol punched the dragon head crunching down on his arm, the moment of distraction allowed the pinned arm to slip out of the link as he fell from high onto the watery sand below. The solid earth felt like hard stone as the blow knocked his breath
away with a loud grunt.

  Gile was faring the same, the goblins and chimeras proving too many for him alone. The enemy toyed with him as Gile spewed his last fire. He was only able to put forth a good gust a few times a day and his efforts depleted his store. His tail swung wildly around and Gile twisted terribly to free himself of the assailants that attacked him from all sides. Each of the two warriors were on their own, unable to aid the other. Both fell a little farther behind with each turn of the battle.

  Two chimeras charged Gile from the side, leaping his swinging tail in unison as they continued their charge. The ram heads leaned forward as the beasts butted into Gile, knocked him onto his side with a thud, which sent sand high into the breeze. Gile could not recover to his feet as the attackers swarmed the dragon, determined to keep him down until they ended his life.

  Erol lay in about ten feet of water as the tide rolled in around him, barely able to keep his face above the frothy gush. The hydra stepped forward and placed its humongous front leg firmly on Erol, his total girth bore down on the pinned ogre. The heads kept snapping at Erol’s face, making it hard for him to keep his head above water. He was unable to gain a breath and began to black out as the salty sea rushed into his nose and throat.

  Unable to hold of any longer, Erol’s gasp at air only allowed the brackish water to pour into his lungs. He awkwardly tried to cough and breathe at the same time, panic sinking in as his arms began flailing in all directions. For the first time in his life, Erol feared death.

  Then a giant roar interrupted the peninsula, exploding onto the coastal sands. Erol could barely make it out in his distress, but the sound was unmistakable for those on the beach. The ground trembled and the water abated as the sea and tide retreated. Erol was finally able to disgorge the water in his lungs and draw a labored choking breath as the hydra’s attention turned elsewhere.

  Gile also felt and heard the rumble, fearing another giant of the enemy approaching that would end any chance of them surviving the day. He tried to wiggle his way to his feet but another chimera bit into his free leg, thwarting the attempt as the pain shot up his body. He groaned in agony, fearing his end near.

  The sound did not worry Erol though, as he knew it well. The sound of one he wanted to see for many years finally arrived in his largest moment of need.

  Δ

  Quelna, wizard of the Ring Mountains, several years prior sent Erol, Belgin’s son, to the city of Tunder Bin. Shortly after, he also sent Belgin to befriend the centaurs on the island of Sundaland. Belgin owed much to the wizard and trusted him completely. The mission seemed easy to Belgin, though he had little knowledge of the centaurs and knew not their difficult ways. Only after reaching the island did he find out just how difficult it would be. The centaurs and their Lord, Cergon, were quite ornery. They had little need, and even less desire, to make friends with others from outside the island. Only through a strange happenstance when Belgin was able to save Cergon’s wife, Natalia, from a giant snake, did Belgin earn the favor and trust of Cergon.

  After that, Belgin earned the right to come as go as he pleased from the community of centaurs. Cergon adorned him with the title of ‘Haberer’, which meant ‘Friend’. It was an innocent enough of a title but the first and only time Cergon gave it. Since that time, Belgin came and went from the centaur citadel of Reiterpferd, aiding them when they needed it and resting when he needed it. The island of Sundaland was a marvelous place, its beauty and healing powers of the many freshwater springs were far beyond anything the ogre had ever known before. One day’s rest there replenished him more than a week in the most serene and lavish area of Lemuria. Also, a hidden spring lay on the island, which was rumored to bring everlasting life. But of that, Cergon would not speak. Belgin also came to know many of the centaurs, and he grew especially close to Natalia and her son Franor.

  So it was, that when Belgin watched a band of goblins and knew their destination to be Sundaland, he feared for his friends. Belgin gave up his hunt and marched around the ghouls. He went straight for the island to warn the centaurs. After reaching Reiterpferd, he rushed to see Cergon. The Lord of the Centaurs lived in a magnificent building, much like the castles and mountain homes of the dwarves. Centaurs needed very high tables, but no chairs. They slept standing up and only laid down during times of great fatigue. Centaurs did not eat meat, as they survived on plants, berries and nuts for nourishment. Elevated gardens lined the many paths that went to and fro across the city, both adding beauty and sustenance for the inhabitants. The well-lighted citadel, with fresh air funneled in by large fans that strong centaurs continuously turned working in shifts, was an amazing sight. This kept the homes of the centaurs from having the smoky dirty feel that accompanied the homes of the dwarves.

  “There is a band of goblins coming here. You need to ready your troops,” Belgin warned Cergon, who seemed unconcerned.

  “I do not fear goblins, Belgin. Could you not take care of them by yourself if needed?” Cergon spoke low. Due to his tone, Belgin grew suspicious.

  “Perhaps I could. I would certainly aid you in defending your people, but are you not at least worried of an attack from them?” Belgin’s curiosity rose.

  Cergon ate a few bites of lettuce and then dismissed everyone from the room, except Belgin. “What if I told you that they weren’t some pointless and destructive band of goblins? What if I told you they were invited?” His last word seemed to never end, the sound of it hung in the open air of the citadel longer than the smoke from the large fires that lit and warmed the room.

  “Invited? Why would you do such a thing?” Belgin was sitting on the smooth stone floor at the large table, which made it a good height for the large ogre. He was getting fidgety and started to rise.

  Cergon raised his hand, asking Belgin to sit again. “Belgin, you have proven yourself to me and I ask your pardon for my hesitancy to tell you everything. Years ago, a wizard came to me. His name was Herrog. He warned me of the coming of human men, who would seek help and then try to overtake our island to keep for their own. Just as he said, the men came. Luckily, we turned them away. Not long ago, the same wizard approached me once again and asked for an alliance with us. In return for that agreement, he would grant us lands for our people in Lemuria. He feared our island unstable and indeed, we have had several tremors as of late that worry me. I did not agree to anything, other than to listen to him. This group of goblins is the treaty party that has come to lay out terms of our alliance and I will hear them out.”

  Belgin sat still in disbelief of Cergon’s words. “Cergon, why not make an alliance with the dwarves? The human men you speak of are friends of the dwarves and they have aided each other greatly. Please, reach out to them in some way. I fear you are making a mistake.”

  Cergon interrupted Belgin, “The mistake, Belgin, would be to not listen. I do not trust the wizard and certainly do not trust goblins. For that matter, the dwarves have not given me a reason to trust them either. The fact that the humans so easily made friends with the dwarves speaks to the fact that they could not be trusted. So, I will listen to the goblins and their leader Grike, and so will you.”

  Again, Belgin questioned his hearing, “I will? What is my role here?”

  “I did not rise to this position by accident. I am a wise centaur, wise enough to know my limitations. I rely on you to give me the views I do not see. You say the humans and dwarves can be trusted. I do not think so, and yet, I trust you with my life. I am open to the fact I may be wrong.” Cergon, like many, did not enjoy acknowledging his limitations. Unlike many, he did it anyway. “You will be there as we go ashore, to be my counsel during the treaty session. If needed, you could also be a deterrent for things escalating. I will not allow the goblins to step foot on this island.”

  Belgin agreed to go with Cergon, gaining a higher level of respect for him. The centaur lord only wanted what was best for his people, even if that meant listening to offers from those who could not be trusted. Belgin’s new duty was to
ensure the alliance they would form would be with the dwarves, and not Herrog and his goblins.

  The next morning, a galleon was loaded with fifty of Cergon’s mightiest warriors and Belgin. The ogre sat alone on one side, with the centaurs filling the other to balance the load. Cergon was surprised to see the goblins on the beach, far larger in number than what was agreed upon, waiting for them.

  The centaurs rowed the galleon hard onto the shore, as Belgin jumped out to help pull it the remaining distance so the centaurs could unload in shallow water. The centaurs, with their banners flapping in the strong morning breeze, galloped proudly onto the beach and right up to the lead of the goblins.

  The goblins raised their weapons as the centaurs approached, causing Cergon to command his men to pull up short. They too raised their weapons in defense.

  “What is going on Grike?” Cergon demanded menacingly. “We were to meet in the forest by the river. You were to have less than ten soldiers. You bring over thirty, and to the front door of my island at that!” His anger was unmistakable as he looked eye to eye with Grike.

  “Horsemen, it ‘pears da distrust is even! You’z bringt over fitty warriors to da meetin’ and an ogre ta’boot! Please, let’s not pertend dat eidder of’dus ar’s doin sumtin da udder ain’t.” Grike, like Cergon, was a wise and thrifty leader. One would not accomplish bullying the other.

  “Let’s have it then, present your terms troll!” Cergon shot back, regretting more every moment that he accepted the offer to listen to the terms.

  Grike grimaced at the lack of respect but had orders that he would follow. “Deez da terms: You’z ill join’d’our ‘lianc and in da’turn, you’z be’given sixteen square’d leagues a land in suddern Lemuria for ur choosin’.” Grike smiled, believing it to be a generous offer from Herrog.