The Three Charms

by Brian Spielbauer

  “Under what authority do you have to offer me such terms? As I understand it, the land is not yours to give?” Cergon questioned.

  “Herrog’s ‘thority and no uddern ‘thority recognized! All dat ain’t hizzen, soon ‘il be hizzen. If you’z unts to be standin’ when dis over, you’z best ‘cept dis gracious offer,” Grike replied irreverently, believing the centaur not appreciative enough. He also shot a look of disdain toward Belgin, not approving or expecting the ogre’s presence.

  “Your tactics of treaty are disrespectful,” Cergon asserted as he and his men began stepping forward, threatening the goblins. Belgin joined the centaurs and their menacing stance. “I do not care for your offer, nor your presence here any further. I suggest you go, while you still are able.”

  Grike smirked and turned to the trees. He lifted a small horn and shrieked a sick signal. Soon more goblins emerged from the woods, more than doubling their number.

  The centaurs stepped back again, not expecting this turn. Grike presented again, “I’z made you an offer, its’been’dun fer da last time. You ‘cept da terms? If’n not, you’z gonna ‘cept da consequences!”

  Cergon heard enough and raised his blade to finish off the irreverent goblin. Belgin beat him to the punch and slogged the goblin from the side. Grike collapsed to the sand, with several of his rotting teeth shattering from their rancid home. Violence erupted on the shore as both sides swayed across the loose, dry, sand of the upper beach.

  Cergon stood over Grike, sword ready to finish the goblin. “You’z island,” Grike chided Cergon hideously. He knew his end was near, “is weak!”

  Cergon had enough and ran the goblin through the chest with a hollow clunk. The razor like blade popped through the hardened chest of the goblin. Cergon drew great satisfaction from the dead gurgling, and thanks for Belgin, toothless body lying on the sand before him. Cergon thought no further of the empty threat of Grike and moved on, entering the battle.

  With Belgin providing the difference and their general dead, the centaurs soon took care of the leaderless goblins. Several attempted to escape, bolting loose of the fight for the safety of the forest.

  “Hunt them all down!” Cergon ordered. The centaur warriors, with Belgin leading the way, chased the goblins into the woods. It was not long before the centaurs slaughtered all the infiltrators within the trees. Then the centaurs regrouped at an opening deep in the forest.

  “I owe you for your counsel and aid in our fight. It was a risky venture which, knowing what I know now, I would have passed on,” Cergon thanked Belgin, who was still angered over the goblin’s presence in the first place.

  “You should join us and help us defeat Herrog,” Belgin implored Cergon.

  The centaur’s appreciation was limited. “You helped us, and we will pay it back. But then, we are even.” Cergon did not like owing things to people. The sooner he paid Belgin back the better.

  An immense howl coming from farther up the shore, interrupted the quite within the trees. Belgin turned quick, squinting his eyes as if he could see through the thick forest to the beach. Belgin perked his ears, listening intently as a second howl confirmed his suspicions, “Erol!” he excitedly hissed to himself.

  Belgin tromped off through the trees, knocking far more trees over than he avoided, as he left the centaurs behind. Cergon watched in amazement as the ogre bullied his way through the forest. He did not understand where Belgin was going, but Cergon could clearly see the urgency that drove him. “Charge!” Cergon ordered and he led his men through the stomped path left by the angry ogre. Cergon was not sure what they would find on the beach, but he was eager to repay Belgin and take his men back to Sundaland.

  Chapter 7: A Fallen Land

  Belgin, father of Erol, boomed and blasted as the last trees between him and his son cracked apart, eagerly giving way to the monstrous fury he had in store. Unlike before when the trees swayed as the band of goblins maneuvered through them, the trees snapped and crunched as if merely dry blades of grass from the angry ogre. The trees rued their roots that would not allow them to move away from the wrecking force blasting through them.

  He kicked up a whirling sand storm as he angrily rushed the hydra that defied his son breath. He ignored the army of nuisance goblins and chimeras on the beach, knowing the hydra the far more dangerous enemy. Standing just a little taller than Erol, but far outweighing him, Belgin ignored his own danger and crashed hard into the mighty dragon of the sea. His girth and power knocking it back toward deeper ocean water. The dragon’s feet removed, Erol was finally free of the weight of the beast and able to stand. The hydra gasped desperately for the precious air denied him.

  Belgin was not alone, as a host of centaur soldiers charged onto the sand from the path of wreckage left by the ogre. The centaurs quickly formed up and attacked the enemy goblins who mobilized for the new attack. Their first task was to free the dragon of goblins, which they easily did. Cergon and his men held no love for dragons but if the goblins were attaching this one, they deemed it worth saving.

  The battle quickly swayed toward the centaurs as the skilled soldiers pushed the goblin and chimera force up the beach. They were still outnumbered, but with Gile regaining his feet and looking for revenge, the fight quickly took a different tone. The vengeful dragon smashed many goblins with every sinful stomp of his feet and savage swing of his twitching tail.

  Belgin repeatedly thundered punches into the soft belly of the hydra, then snapping several of the necks as the creature began backing into the sea. The hydra hoped for an opportunistic escape. Erol joined Belgin as together they rode the beast deep into the water, punishing it with every crushing punch. The only way to kill a hydra was to snap every neck before new ones could regenerate. With only three heads left, the ogres held on as the hydra dove deep into a spinning dive, hoping to throw the unwanted riders off. The centaurs and Gile looked on as the ogre’s, riding the hydra, were swallowed into the deep.

  Gile worried for his friend but the task at hand demanded his attention as he again strode forward into the enemy line. The centaurs gave support, shooting down darting goblins with their arrows and fighting off the armored chimera. The sound of sword and clanging steel filled the beach.

  “’Etreat!” the head goblin sounded. He was the new chieftain following Grike’s death. The remaining army escaped into the forest. The centaurs were uninterested in giving chase, allowing the scoundrel grubs their desired release from battle.

  All went back to where the ogre’s entered the water, waiting for a sign they yet lived. Many moments passed with no trace of the ogres in the rippling waters off shore. Erol disrupted their dwindling hope as he shot above the surf as a whale leaping from the ocean, pulling the larger Belgin with him. Cheers rose from the centaurs as they saw Erol, but as quickly as the raucous arose, the applause was gone at the sight of the motionless Belgin. Erol urgently pulled his father onto the sandy beach. He kneeled next to his father and began pushing down on Belgin’s chest to force out the water he sucked in during the deep dive.

  With a mighty push from Erol, a gigantic gust of water spouted out of Belgin, along with a large fish. A gasping, sputtering cough erupted as Belgin thoroughly cleared his airways. He then sat up, fists clenched, ready to finish the fight. “Where that dragon!” he snarled as he looked around, but there was no enemy in sight.

  Erol laughed at his father, the chuckle gathering his father’s attention. “What’re you snickering at, boy?” the elder ogre growled, bringing Erol’s merriment to a halt.

  “At my old man, who thought he could slaughter a hydra at the bottom of the ocean! How’d ’ya think that’ld turn out?” Erol asked, so happy his father arrived.

  “Duly noted, son. Duly noted,” Belgin gruffed. Then he allowed Erol to help him to his feet. Belgin suddenly noticed Gile for the first time. The dragon skinned vest wore by Belgin gave away his hate for such creatures, which made Gile nervous. He stepped between Erol and Gile, taking a battle-ready stance between
his son and the apparent enemy.

  “Calm everyone, I’ll take this one,” Belgin ordered, but Erol quickly stayed him.

  “Father, stand down! This dragon’s on our side,” Erol explained, hoping his father would listen. Like all father’s, Belgin was better at ordering than listening.

  “Never has a dragon been on my side and always they’s on the other side!” Belgin could not believe his son and certainly couldn’t comprehend when Erol walked over to Gile and laid his hands on the dragon. Gile stayed close to Erol, wanting no part of the grizzled old ogre.

  “You’ll learn to trust this one, I promise!” Erol was so glad to see his father and even more so when his father put his fists down. He cautiously approached Erol to further discuss the dragon, when much to his surprise, Gile jutted out his head and licked Belgin on the face.

  “Stop! What’re ya doin’?” Belgin protested. It was to no avail as Gile wanted to prove his loyalty and friendliness to the ogre.

  The lead centaur galloped forth. From waste down an amazing strong steed, with brown, smooth, shiny hair from waste to hoof. His legs were thick and stout, speaking more of a horse built for power than speed. From his waist up, he was a sculpted masterpiece of muscle upon muscle, getting wider and stronger as his torso gave way to his massive chest and shoulders. His dour face was far less appealing, and his surly demeanor was so evident it even overshadowed his brilliant appearance.

  He disapprovingly addressed Belgin’s playful moment. “Looks as though you have a new friend. Can I also expect to see some pet goblins?” He did not wait for an answer, ignoring the angered look Belgin shot him. He directed his attention to Erol, “I am Cergon, Lord of the Centaurs. You are Erol, son of Belgin, yes?” The horseman reached out to shake Erol’s hand. Erol took it, with Cergon stealing the need for a reply.

  “How could ’ya let the goblins get ‘way?” Belgin challenged Cergon as he leaned over to let several buckets of water out of his ears.

  “They are not my enemy and as such, not why we are here,” Cergon replied, indicating he and his men were separate of the rest. “You knew we were here to aid you only, not to finish any of your other meaningless errands. They are neither mine nor my people’s problems.”

  Centaurs only cared for themselves and it was well known. Erol knew the favor they were returning must be great, for they would overlook anything lesser. Only something very important would have pulled them off their island.

  Cergon continued, “We are now even, the debt is paid in full. We are going back to our island. I wish you the best in your journey.”

  “Damned centaurs,” Belgin muttered to Erol. “They’s too mighty a fighter to not aid us.”

  A tremble grew across the beach and it did not abate. It grew stronger as the sands across the beach began shifting back and forth. At first, they readied for another attack from the hydra, but soon their peril seemed far greater. All turned their attention farther out to sea and the island of Sundaland, home of the centaurs. The island and its lone mountain peak that rose high above the city of Reiterpferd shook off in the distance. Huge plumes of smoke began exploding out of the mountain top, as a blast of rock and lava burst through the top into the sky. Then, to the horror of the centaurs who watched, the volcanic mountain erupted before their eyes. The centaurs pranced about frenziedly as their concern for their families boiled over.

  “To the boat!” Cergon commanded in a thunderous voice as the centaurs raced to their boat anchored farther down the shore. The centaur lord cried aloud as he raced away, “We must get there in time!”

  Belgin thought quickly, as the eruption blew the entire top of the mountain into the sky. Lava poured over the rim, perilously pooling down the slope. Forests burned as fire ignited the trees. Having been there many times, he knew the galleon of the centaurs stood little chance of covering the distance in time. Not alone anyway.

  Belgin looked to Erol and Gile, “We must take them there!”

  Erol and Gile followed Belgin’s lead and rushed to aid the centaurs. They rounded the corner of the beach to see the galleon just off shore. The horsemen quickly galloped aboard as Erol and Belgin splashed into the oncoming tide, with Gile already ahead of them. The two ogres pulled the boat into the surf, easily slicing through the waves that fought their advance. They pulled so hard the boat threatened to burst apart, but the handiwork of the centaurs proved strong and handled the stress placed upon it.

  Erol was surprised how far they were able to wade into the surf but eventually they could touch no longer. Gile then took the lead, swimming strong toward the island as the two ogres held onto his tail.

  With Gile and both ogres swimming hard and the centaurs aiding with their oars, the galleon raced toward the island leaving its own wake behind. The trip took just a third of the time than if just the centaurs had paddled alone.

  The nation of centaurs, young to old, was fleeing the island. They were galloping down the wide stone path that led from the brilliant city of Reiterpferd to the sea. The lava swallowed the beautiful city, toppling and burning many of the majestic buildings that stood for centuries. The same fairway that allowed the quick escape for the centaurs also acted as a viaduct for the lava as it chased the centaurs down the path. It caught many of the older and slower centaurs from behind and they never reached the saving waters of the sea.

  The centaurs were hurriedly boarded the remaining galleon as best they could, but there were far too many. The lava stalked them from behind, threatening to catch more of its prey before its last breath. It seemed to have a mind of its own, an evil determination to wipe them out. Cergon and his men quickly emptied their boat, making room for the others while taking their posts on the vacant boats, which was their only hope of guiding them safely away.

  “Board, quickly,” Cergon ordered. The crying women and children raced to safety on the galleons. Then the mountain shook again, but this time there was no eruption. The mountain, instead of blowing up and out, began to fall inward. They would not know for some time, but the very foundations of the ancient mountain were crumbling from the bottom. Soon the majestic peaks, which had long defied wind and rain, would lie as rubble at the bottom of the ocean.

  The tremors opened huge cracks in the earth, which the patient ocean water was eager to fill. The cool salty water rushed forward in a clashing battle with the molten lava, which created unimaginable banks of fog and steam that limited their sight and hid the island in a cloud that would not soon abate.

  The galleons, long past full and dreadfully near sinking from the weight, began to slowly paddle away. Erol and Belgin helped to launch the full galleons, pushing them away from the shore. Many still waited on the beach, most were the oldest of the centaurs who were not willing to die at sea.

  “Grab ahold of us, we can take you,” Erol urged as the centaurs hesitantly entered the water. Their hooves desired the solid land, but soon there would be none. Only the imminent threat of death could push them on, with the menacing lava giving chase all the way to the shoreline, and even past that into the endless marching ranks of the rolling surf. The centaurs feverishly grabbed a hold onto the two ogres and the dragon, something they would have never dreamed of before the calamity of the day.

  As the destruction continued, the whole island began to shudder. The shaking made it impossible for all but the sturdiest centaur to keep his or her feet. The ocean overtook the island at an ever-increasing speed as the land crumbled before the swooshing slush. It disappeared in an amazing and horrific sight. No centaur could stand to watch the tragic scene. All shielded their eyes as best they could. The waters hungrily rushed in again and again, filling every space the absence of the mountain left open. The crushing tide punished the ogres and Gile, pushing them back toward the remnants of the island. The heat of the water from the lava began to bubble and burn their skin, cooking them. They swam as hard as they could against the mighty flow of water, but the extra weight of the centaurs and boats drug them ever backward toward the center
.

  Gile was the first to escape, as dragons were amazing swimmers. Their strong legs and webbed feet allowing them great bursts of speed at need. Several of the older centaurs were unable to hold on during the dragon’s mighty surge. The hungry tide sucked them back past the ogres, both too bogged down already to aid them. The flailing centaurs, screaming for help, were never seen again as the waters swept them away.

  The predicament was getting worse by the moment and Erol and Belgin began to worry for their own lives. They were just able to push the ships out of peril, only to be sucked back again themselves. Erol swam with all the strength his tired body could muster. Only a rare stout foothold on land yet to fall was keeping the tide from swallowing him. He could feel the current change, as behind him a whirl pool opened as the water surged to fill the hole where the island stood.

  Ever stronger was the tide of water seeking to take them down. Belgin was faring poorly as well. He was a better swimmer, but far older than Erol. The tips of his two fingers desperately held onto one of the last vestiges of the island that stood before, a ghostly shell that marked the previous inhabitant of the area. The two great ogres, and the many centaurs who yet clung to them for life, were only counting the moments until the water won and took them to their grave.

  Erol tried to say something to his father as they locked eyes, but the water rushing by his face and his broken heart would not allow it. Their eyes did all the communicating the moment allowed and the thick fog prevented any surviving witnesses to the occasion.

  The foothold that was saving Erol succumbed to the immense pressure and cracked, sending Erol plummeting into the swirling grave of ocean. He frantically threw a hand for anything to hold as several more centaurs swept off him. The hand found something, a tautness, a hold, a prayer. It was a rope.

  He held tight as the rope delivered him and the few riders still clinging to him for life, back above the angry ocean, which grudgingly released its prey. The rope pulled Erol through the rushing water, only to see his father also saved. The far-off galleons, free from the deathly current, pulled the two mighty ogres to safety. They shot the ropes to Erol and Belgin at the latest of moments. The centaur boats were holding together as each held the line to the ogres on one end and the other lassoed around the mighty Gile. The dragon’s strength of muscle and heart proved superior to that of the evil whirl pool’s suction and the entire ocean itself. The centaurs rowed with all their strength, adding to the power of the dragon to pull their friends free. With every passing moment the likelihood of the ogres and their rider’s survival became more evident. Soon they were well out of reach of the sinister and evil waters that underestimated the power of the friendly dragon.