To Forge a King- the Chronicles of Ellorhim

by Thomas Adams

  “Now Captain, I hate to do this to you but you come highly recommended and in truth, I have no one else right now. I need you for a special task. Will you accept it? I know you were slated for some time off.”

  Borghild shrugged, “I have no family so my furlough can wait. You will save me a lot of coin chancellor.”

  Induron chuckled, “To be a young unmarried officer again. Some things never change.”

  “Good man.” said Rumborg, “Proceed Jarl Induron.”

  “Captain, take fifty mounted men, your pick from the best men from the lower garrison here in Kimera, proceed with all possible haste up the Old North Road and scout Fortress Brod. Winter will be shutting down the roads up there soon. I sent two separate scout teams out there. One went at mid-summer and the other a moon ago. However, we have not heard from either team and they should have reported back by now.

  “They are our usual standard patrols of the old fort and the pass to make sure nothing has changed and the pass is still totally blocked. They have been there before and know the lay of the land. I have a feeling something is going on up there. We need to know what it is up there, if anything. We can’t afford any surprises with war looming. And, try to find our missing scouts. Check all the local villages along the route and see what they can tell us.”

  Rumborg added, “And Captain, we have had word from another source that there are Trolls up there. Be extra careful but be quick and cautious. Send back a report as soon as possible.”

  Borghild acknowledged the orders, saluted and departed the chancellor’s office. He confirmed the written instructions with the orderly in the outer office and then he took his leave. He headed for the lower barracks to find fifty good men, solid mounts and supplies. Trolls! By Kimer’s Axe this would not be a simple mission. He knew that out of the ordinary events were never good things to be involved with. Here was more proof.

  ***

  A warm dense mist rose from the low ground in front of them. The fog lay about knee high to their horses and blanketed everything before them. The trail sloped down and into a swale. It followed the course of a thin stream into a small valley where it was lost to sight in the mist below. Erika said that the wet boggy terrain expanded and became a swamp. As they descended the smell of rotting vegetation permeated the air. Soon, gurgling water and the noise of marsh critters were all around them. Brandt saw the glimpses of beaver, muskrat, copper snakes and reed thrushes moving about on their daily business. And of course there were insects, in dense clouds of gnats and bog flies, all around them. Fall had not penetrated here quite yet it seemed.

  The footing was treacherous so they moved slowly. Small scraggly copses of trees, black murky pools and grassy hummocks dotted the floor of the vale and peeked from the mist as they rode past. The damp mist felt like a living thing and it snuck between the gaps in armor and clothing and cooled a body’s warmth.

  “This would be a good place to set up an ambush. See who is following us and mayhap even the odds.” Bax said to Erika in a low voice.

  Erika stopped the group and they bunched up so they could all hear her. She listened and looked around as if trying to discern something from the fell land around them. Then she nodded her head and said, “I agree Bax. We should see if we have any company. Alfaar scout the flanks along our back trail for a skot. I will check up ahead. Everyone else move over there. Conceal yourselves and wait for us to return.” She pointed up ahead to where the trail crossed into a small copse of trees. “We’ll see if there is a suitable spot to welcome any friends following us.”

  After moving to where Erika had indicated the group dismounted, checked their horses and prepared their weapons. Once done, they patiently waited for the scouts to return. Brandt took the opportunity to munch on a bit of dried meat and crusty bread. It was the last of the bread from their supplies. Hopefully they would be able to buy more supplies from a village a day further up the trail.

  Erika returned shortly thereafter and said, “There is a small clearing just up ahead. It is beyond a cut through a deep embankment that borders a creek. Anyone following us would expect an ambush at the creek but we will hit them right after the creek as they enter the clearing. We will have open space for a volley or two from our bows. It should work perfectly.”

  The group moved off and quickly arrived at the designated clearing. It offered a small but decent field of fire and had good cover and concealment. Erika made everyone keep moving and pass through the clearing. She led them up the trail two hundred arms before she halted the group. She motioned for everyone to dismount, “We don’t want the horse tracks in the clearing to indicate we had stopped, this way it looks like we just kept riding.”

  Everyone dismounted and moved of the trail. They quickly set up their picket line for the horses. Erika then divided the party up and designated Brandt and Horace as the horse watchers and rear guard. She shrugged at Brandt and said she wanted the best archers to set the ambush and Brandt was still just mediocre with bow and arrow.

  As the group prepared she outlined the plan for the quick strike on whoever was following them, “We assume it will be Narasists. When they enter the clearing, we let them come in halfway then fire two or three volleys from concealment. No more than that. Then everyone but Bax and I will slip back to here. This is our rally point. Brandt and Horace will have the horses ready and you should mount up. Bax and I will cover the retreat. Once everyone is clear we will also fall back to the rally point. Brandt and Horace will watch in case any of the Narasists try to follow Bax and me or try to flank us. Then, the whole group will ride back to the trail and continue north as fast as possible. Any questions?”

  As they prepared Bosse rode in. He dismounted and tied up his horse and joined the group, “From a distance I got a decent look at group behind us, about a dozen on horses. They are dressed like hunters or woodsmen. I did not risk getting close enough to confirm who they are.”

  Erika turned to look back the way they had come, “Narasists. I know it. Hunters and woodsmen do not travel in such large groups nor are they usually mounted.”

  “They are taking their time, about two hours behind us.”

  Everyone finished their preparations and then they moved up to the ambush. Erika directed each archer into the best positions according to her plan. Once all was ready they settled in to wait. It was tedious but luckily the infernal mosquitos typically found in the swamp were mostly absent today. No one was really sure how long the wait would be. But, the plan was to wait until early evening at least. If the Erhand didn’t show they would head up the trail another hour or two and make camp.

  The wait was difficult. The temperature was not too cold but the marshy air was damp. The dampness permeated their clothing and chilled their bodies. It made it uncomfortable and those holding a position in the ambush line had to keep their movements to a minimum. Staying alert was a struggle as well. The boredom dulled the mind and senses. Erika and Bax would periodically pass word along the line to remind everyone to keep alert. After about three hours though Erika signaled the ambush team that there was movement coming up the trail towards them. Everyone slowly got into position and checked their bow and arrows.

  It began silently and quickly. Arrows were silently loosed with deadly effect. Men cursed and shouted and horses screamed and bolted. The Narasists were surprised and in disarray but there were a lot of them, more than they had originally thought.

  ***

  Back at the rally point Brandt was keeping the horses content and quiet. He would talk to one and give it a handful of grain then move to the next. He was also watching the flanks and rear of the rally point to ensure no one snuck up on them. Horace was focused on the front towards the ambush. When he heard the reed thrush bird call from Erika, the signal for the group to make ready, he checked the horses one last time and drew Brotjnar.

  The sword was suddenly awake and alive with grim purpose. It was as though he could sense the coming conflict and welcomed it. This feeling transf
erred to Brandt and he had to steady himself and not let the sword’s excitement and influence overwhelm his own instincts.

  Then there was a loud commotion from the ambush site. Men were yelling and crying out in pain and anger. A minute later there was movement to his front and Fridya, Bosse and Alfaar burst into the clearing. Horace was mounted now and scanning the front for pursuit. The ambushers quickly stowed bows and arrows on their horses, gathered their reigns from Brandt and swung into their saddles.

  Brandt heard something coming from his left, Brotjnar noted it also and Brandt swung in that direction. As he searched the trees and brush for movement Brotjnar whispered excitedly in his mind. A Narasist with a short curved sword and dagger burst from the trees scant feet from him. Brandt didn’t have time to think. The fact that the Narasist was so quiet, even when attacking, was unnerving. But Brandt’s training took over and he reacted with a hard fast swing.

  The Narasist managed to block the blow with his short falchion but the force of the blow knocked him off balance. Brandt was already following up with a backhanded slash that caught the assassin’s upper arm. Brotjnar bit deep into the bicep and the man fell back again.

  With incredible speed Brandt swept forward again and with a strong two handed slash broke though the Narasist’s parry and cut him deep across the chest. The man sunk to his knees and Brotjnar came down hard and clove in the skull of the assassin. He toppled to the ground and was still. It was over in mere seconds. It was a horrific kill and the sight of the gaping blood drenched wounds and the broken skull stunned him for a moment. Flesh, sinew, bone and brain matter were all laid bare. The Narasist’s dead face had a surprised look frozen in place and he seemed to be looking right into Brandt’s eyes.

  Brotjnar was well pleased and reveled in the kill. ‘It has been a long time’, Brotjnar echoed in his mind. Erika and Bax came rushing out of the thicket to their front. Bax saw the frozen Brandt next to the corpse and went to get him moving again. Erika mounted up. Bax pushed Brandt and said, “Mount up! This is war. Think about it later.”

  Brandt, as if waking from a dream, glanced up and saw Fridya staring at the corpse in horror. He shook his head and moved towards his horse. Brotjnar was now chanting some ancient war song. It reverberated in his mind. The remainder of them mounted and the group shot off, churning hoofs throwing up clumps of mud and swamp grass. Erika led them on a diagonal route to the path. Bosse dropped to the rear to cover their retreat and confuse their trail as much as possible but there didn’t seem to be any pursuit.

  The ground a skot past the rally point became firm again and the swamp petered out. A large hardwood forest began and the trail rose up and into the forest. They could use the forest to lose the pursuit. On the far side of this forest, about an eight hour ride, was a fairly decent sized hamlet they had discussed stopping to resupply at. Erika passed back word that she did not want to lead their pursuers to the village though. They would stop short and tomorrow send in two of their band for supplies.

  Five hours later, after setting a few false trails, they turned off the trail and headed for a low hill topped with thick evergreens. The crossed over the hill and entered a shallow glen on the other side. Erika stayed back to conceal their trail. There was little to do. It would be a cold camp. To take his mind off the man he’d killed Brandt threw himself into his chores. He unsaddled the horses, brushed them and then fed them. Next, he found a spring a hundred arms from camp and filled up all the water skins and watered the horses as well. It was well past dark by the time he finished the chores.

  He went back to camp and spread out his bedroll. He wasn’t hungry so he lay down and tried to go to sleep. His first kill was years ago when he had been attacked by another Narasist at Reave Hall. He had been much younger then and it was dark when it happened. He also been severely injured and passed out from his wounds right after the fight. He didn’t even really remember much detail about the fight or the assassin he’d killed. The circumstances of his injury and subsequently passing out had spared him great emotional trauma back then.

  His second fight had been with Fridya against more Narasists. They had killed two together but Rojr had died in that fight. The loss of their friend and the anger it had caused had limited the impact of the lives they had taken.

  Now, there was nothing shielding his mind and he unfailingly remembered every gory detail of the fight. Brotjnar told him to stop acting like a child. The assassins were coming to kill him after all.

  Fridya came by and dropped down next to him, “You all right?”

  “I am fine.” he mumbled in reply.

  “We got two or three of them bastards. Some of them may have helped killed Rojr.”

  “I know. You don’t have to convince me it was right. But, thanks for checking.”

  She nodded and patted his shoulder, “Sure, good. Bend a bough, I hope we thinned them out and slowed them down some. Mayhap they will be more cautious now as well.”

  “Get some sleep Fridya. It will be another long day tomorrow.”

  She slipped off to her blankets several feet from him. He watched her lay down and worm her way into her sleeping furs. She looked like she was soon asleep. For Brandt, sleep was a long time coming. For hours the accusing eyes of his slain enemy haunted him. The night was cold and very dark in the thick evergreens. It was quiet as well, too quiet. It was as if the deep woods held its breath in anticipation of something yet to come. Eventually he drifted off to a troubled sleep.

  ***

  Brandt woke several times during the night. His sleep was tortured with nightmares. So, when he thought he heard a strangled shout, he woke easily. He sat up and in the moonlight filtering through the trees Brandt thought he saw several men dressed in dark colors attacking Bosse, who had the dead-watch. Brandt saw the pale gleam of short curved knives repeatedly striking his friend and protector. Other men in black cloaks were now rushing into their camp with swords and knives in their hands.

  Brandt shouted in alarm, “To arms!” He was on his feet in an instant with SwordBreaker in hand. Next to him, Fridya was rolling to her feet as well. The two of them headed for the fight. Brandt saw the others were up and fighting but Bosse, if that who had been on watch, was lying on the motionless ground.

  It seemed like there were eight or nine assassins in the fray. It was complete chaos. Brandt assumed they were Narasists. Alfaar gave a shout and went down. But, he was back up quickly and swinging an axe. The enemy was facing away from Fridya and him, almost as if they had missed seeing their sleeping forms in the dark. So, Brandt and Fridya, with effortless coordinated action, something they had built and fostered for years at Reave Hall, hit them in the rear and hacked two of their attackers down fast. That surprised the remaining Narasists and three turned to face the new threat.

  They traded blows and Brandt pulled on his power to enhance his fighting skill. He parried a short sword thrust by one of the Narasists and then with blinding speed slipped past his defense and ran him through the gut with Brotjnar. Bax and Erika took down another as well but suffered for it. Alfaar could not adequately support them with his wound anymore and fell back. He was barely defending himself. Horace was forced to cover for Alfaar and fought a purely defensive action.

  The odds were a little more even now but Bax, Erika and Alfaar were all wounded. The remaining Narasists regrouped and three went at Bax and Erika. The other two held off Brandt and Fridya. Horace pulled Alfaar back out of the fight and then threw an axe at the group attacking Erika and Bax. Brotjnar was getting into the flow of the fight and Brandt’s blood was coursing through his veins. He blocked, cut and sliced with amazing dexterity and speed. Fridya was right by his side taking advantage of the gaps and holes he created to jab and slice into the gaps, wounding both Narasists while Brandt kept their swords busy.

  Suddenly, Brandt could feel something coming towards them. It was moving fast. A cold nameless horror hit him like an icy arctic blast. His mind recoiled in terror and confusion but he summ
oned his archania and fought to hold on to his courage and control his mind. He could not allow the terror to overwhelm his mind. It seemed to work because the fear and terror lessened and is mind cleared.

  He looked at the others. They were slowed and hindered by the dark oppressive archania directed at the band. However, everyone was still functional, albeit to a lesser degree. Even the Narasists appeared affected by the dark archania. Brandt looked at Fridya and said, “We will hold the camp and cover the others. I don’t know what is coming but it is bad and we need to get out of here now.”

  She looked terrified but was bravely hanging in there with him, “Agreed.” she gasped. “It must be a Dark One. I will check Bosse if we can work towards him.” They resumed their combined attack on the Narasists to their front and Brandt yelled at Erika to get everyone out of the camp. The Narasists were also suddenly less inclined to stick around. Two of them put up a token defense while the others broke off and retreated into the dark woods. Brandt hacked another down as he tried to cover their retreat.

  Bosse was dead. Fridya checked him while Brandt pushed the remaining rear guard of Narasists back. He caught one with a light gash across the forearm and hammered the other in his side with the keen edge of his hand axe. The two had enough and they disengaged and took off. Brandt let them go and faced about. He searched for the evil he felt coming their way. He yelled for the others to grab what they could and flee.

  He told Fridya to grab some food, a medical kit, water and one of the horses. The horses did not like the approaching Illr-hrae either. They cried out in terror and bucked, trying to break their tethers. Some managed to pull free of the picket line and ran off into the dark woods, snorting their displeasure and fear.

  He stood up tall and took a couple deep breaths and summoned his archania again. He would need it. Brotjnar was still happily whispering advice in his mind. The sword, at least, was looking forward to the coming fight. He glanced back at Fridya and saw she was shivering and crying but loading a skittish horse with supplies. The wave of fear and terror pulsing around their camp was almost visible. Brandt felt the familiar darkness rise within him and he struggled to master it. He didn’t want that strange creeping power to overwhelm his senses. He wanted to remain in full control of his mind and body for this fight.