by Matt Rogers
Chapter 38: Giant Expectations
The Siege (Castle Nirvana)
“They moved in the shadows, silent as wind, no obstacle in their way. They remained in the dark, off the path, intent on finding their prey. They were in the forest, locating the foe, sent to accomplish a mission. They found them in a grove, eight in all, sitting semi-circle position. Hawkeye raised a hand, pointed to one, Longshot removed an Elvin. They fled through the brush, sure in the knowledge, they’d let the games begin.
He became aware, a subconscious act, occurring before one sees. The birds took flight, the ants underground, the squirrels ran up the trees. He could feel the change, a stir in the air, he knew them no longer alone. He looked around, spotted all his kind, there should be none save their own. Realization dawned, he began to speak, an arrow cut off his chance. The others leapt up, aware at last, Death had entered the dance.
The timer began, the seven split up, they went in search of two. The two stayed hidden, one kept watch, the other awaited his cue. It came with a signal, not very loud, just the soft crunching of sticks. Hawkeye pointed, Longshot fired, and seven were suddenly six. They left in haste, their position known, so decided to depart. They held a thought, the game just begun, and off to a beautiful start.
They remained apart, as was ever their way, silently stalking the others. They kept in contact, through signs and signals, known to them and their brothers. They were of the Guild, taught in the ways, of Death and Her deadly design. They were of the Elvin, a masterful race, descendants of the assassin line. They moved with a purpose, light and lean, their weapons ever at bay. They were all in the game, all of one plan, kill all who dared to play.
One was up high, one down low, the bait was easy to see. All it took, all it needed, was an open glade and a tree. The one stood still, amazingly calm, considering all at stake. The other kept watch, ever aware, they were fighting for Nature’s sake. He saw a rustle, a movement of bush, made by something alive. One Elvin raised a bow, as Longshot let go, then six were down to five.
The tension was thick, the air was moist, the Elvin moved as one. They were sure of success, sure of their skill ,would revel in glory won. But first was worry, some serious doubt, the impossible had come to light. The two that they stalked, the two they would kill, had depleted some of their might. It was never imagined, never been thought, their kind could lose the day. They were upset and mad, determined the others, would die a horrible way.
The two were as one, moving with speed, impossible to detect. They came with a plan, unwritten but known, brutal in effect. Destroy the ones, who held the others, innocent beyond a doubt. Those who grew food, those who gave life, those who were ever about. The Elfin were kind, their other half not, separate by war and deed. The two had entered, they fought with a vengeance, and made the Elvin bleed.
They were down to five, but still in charge, their enemy’s direction known. They would herd them near, make them suffer, for Elvin lives they’d sown. They still held the numbers, secure in the knowledge, they were Death’s disciples at hand. They would capture the two, who dared to challenge, Her right to rule the land. They would take their time, torment the two, delight in pain and gore. They were sure of their strength, ready to fight, when shaft made five to four.
The two took to shelter, not in the trees, but below the mud and seeds. They were one with the muck, one with the water, hidden by moss and weeds. They remained under cover, breathing through reeds, awaiting time to appear. It came without thunder, came without sound, their enemy’s steps drew near. The Elvin passed by, they stayed unspotted, completely out of view. They rose together, took deadly aim, and four turned into two.
The two spun around, the game took a turn, as knives and swords came out. It was even of odds, even of number, the outcome completely in doubt. They met in the middle, steel met steel, a deadly sight to be seen. All four were masters, unbeaten in battle, the best there’d ever been. The end came about, quick as a flash, as two admitted defeat. It came not from mouths, or pleading gestures, but heads at two others’ feet.
There was nary a cheer, no applause to hear, only one to witness the act. It wouldn’t have mattered, they still held a mission, bring back the Elfin intact. They searched the forest, inspired with feeling, infused with victory. They then encountered, a sight to behold, which brought them to one knee. The Elfin were dead, slaughtered en mass, strewn in a single heap. The truth became clear, the game could be won, but the price was ever too steep.
So if you would fight, if you would play, Death’s terrible game. Remember the cost, remember the loss, of those too numerous to name. I am the one, the sole who watched, as two came to our aid. I attest to the fact, they held no malice, stayed true to the game they played. But remember this fact, Death doesn’t care, and take this humble advice. When playing with Her, she holds all the cards, and rolls ever loaded dice.”
All in the room were quiet. The Elfin who read the poem lowered his head and everyone did the same. Hawkeye and Longshot had returned with horrendous news; the Elvin had massacred their long-ago brothers. The only survivor, save Tweedlewink, stood before them; an Elfin named Tweedleword.
“I am so sorry” she said.
Tweedleword, realizing truth when he heard it, broke down in tears.
“It was horrible, Mother. They never stood a chance.”
The story came out, bit by bit, as the tiny creature related what he saw. He’d remained hidden, not through fear but because he’d been absent from his tribe. He’d been visiting Lawlessness, ascertaining their needs for vegetables and grain. When he returned he found the forest startling quiet and knew something was wrong. He took to the treetops and viewed the act. It was evil beyond comparison. The Elvin had rounded up the children and demanded all adults become present. They did. It was over minutes later. The Elfin had no defense. They were brutally eliminated without any compassion. Tweedleword sat shocked, unable to comprehend such malice.
“I am so sorry.”
Again he wept. In her he saw what others should be; kindness. She offered no comforting words, uttered no nonsense about those being in a better place and for that he was grateful. He had no wish to be consoled, held no thoughts about forgiveness and knew his place in society was set. He would let all others know, yell to the winds if need be for he was the messenger, the only one left to proclaim the truth; evil had to be confronted.
“Mother Nature?”
She turned from the little being she held so much love for and gazed upon the one she loved most.
“Yes, General?”
She could tell he’d changed, something happened which had a profound effect. He was still the man she’d grown to love, the one she held dearest, the one she’d die for. It would be necessary. Her power was love for all, not for one. If she chose him she could not be Nature. If she chose him she would choose her replacement. Her successor would mean her end. It had always been the way; one life for one death. She’d been willing. He was anything but.
“Never!”
She believed if she gave up her identity as Nature she would return in mortal form. She believed she could find him. She believed love could not die. She believed they could live as one.
“But what is life if not to live with the one you love?”
His belief was not as strong.
“If you choose this route I will make a pact with Death herself. I love you as I’ve loved only one other. I cannot lose you also. If you choose to die I will give my life to Her. I will become everything you oppose, everything you despise and your gesture will be meaningless.”
She believed him. He never lied. He couldn’t. It was one of the things she adored. So they became a different form of couple; unwed but with a bond which would last even after death. A bond which would grow stronger after life. A bond which was unbreakable, unending and unbearable.
“We need to decide what to do about Tweedlewink.”
They had a problem.
“What were your exa
ct words again?”
“Three flaming arrows in the southern sky when we’ve freed his kind.”
The problem was the nuance.
“We will not lie.”
“But it is not a lie. We have freed his kind.”
The definition of free was the snag.
“Death is not free, General.”
“But…”
“No, I am sorry but I will not be party to something which is untrue. The little one believes if he sees the arrows his people are safe. We cannot use his ignorance of the truth to further our own needs. Please, forgive me, I know how you feel and I truly do relish your support but I cannot willingly deceive one who would put his life on the line for me.”
General Shield had seen her defiance before. It was one of the things he loved most about her. She would never compromise what others would easily do. She was incapable of subterfuge, without deceit, unerringly good.
“Mother Nature?”
They were interrupted by one of the few who dared.
“Yes, Hawkeye?”
“Councilor Clearview asks for you.”
She nodded her head and once again gazed upon the one she loved. She was about to speak but, as always, there was no need. He knew her as he knew no others. She needn’t ask what he already accepted.
“Go. I will heed your words and the arrows will not be launched.”
She smiled. He smiled. She left. He changed. She forbade the signal from the sky but not from the ground. He made a decision. It had not been hard for him. it was impossible for her. The difference came down to responsibility. Her predecessor, and thus herself by proxy, had made the Elvin and Elfin sign a pact. The Elvin would not kill Elfin and the Elfin would not provide explosives for warfare. The fact the Elvin had obviously broken the pact was the snag. It allowed the Elfin to retaliate. He knew Tweedlewink would. She knew Tweedlewink would. She felt responsible for the outcome. He felt a responsibility also. Both knew the Elfin would ignite the fuse the second he heard his kind were no more. Shield was okay with the deed, Gaia was not. She could not allow another to give up what she held so dear. Life, all life, to her was precious beyond measure. To Shield, not so much. He sought the desired outcome; Mother Nature’s continued survival. it didn’t matter if came about from victory in battle or an Elfin committing explosive revenge. To him it was the same. To her it wasn’t. Therefore, he made a choice. A life for a life. It was ever the way.
She moved through the courtyard with Hawkeye at her elbow. Everyone she passed bowed in her presence. She didn’t demand so. They demanded it of themselves. They all had a story. Some sadder than others but all tragedies in their own right. None more so than the Giant. One of the beings in all the realms which had the power of gods but not their need to wield it. They alone stood above all. They alone could subjugate all. They alone knew the dangers of doing so.
She had been sitting, contemplating, thinking. He saw her for the first time and knew his quest for knowledge would wait. She was perfect. A beauty he could not take his eyes off. A beauty he could not resist.
“Hello” she said.
He could only smile. One of the greatest beings on the planet stood tongue-tide.
“My name is Glenda.”
He’d never heard a more beautiful name.
“What’s yours?”
His mind went blank. He thought for a second he actually could not remember his own moniker. He thought for a second of running away. He thought for a second of dying from embarrassment. He didn’t, of course, because he finally recalled what his mother named him, he told her, she smiled and they wound up married the very next day.
“I declare Goliath and Glenda married. Let nothing come between them and their love.”
Nothing could.
They were the kindest creatures in the realm. All who met them came away with one realization, one thought above all else; they were perfect for each other. They had a love which transcended all. It was magical, glorious, their greatest asset. It was also their downfall.
“Goliath?”
“Yes, My Love?”
“There is someone who wishes to speak with you.”
The man who entered was anything but majestic. He had a bald head, weathered robe, carried a staff in one hand and held a goose in the other.
“Hello, can I help you?”
The man looked up at Goliath, smiled, bowed his head slightly and replied in a rapid fashion.
“I believe so. Yes, sir, I truly believe so.”
Goliath gazed down upon the man and became a bit intrigued. It wasn’t everyday a wizard appeared at the door. It was obvious the man was a spell-caster of some sort because no one in their right mind would walk around unarmed.
“Um…?”
“Oh! Right! I haven’t introduced myself. My name is William Warlock the Fourth. I humbly ask for your help” the man said as he again bowed his head.
“My help?”
“Yes, sir, your help.”
“What kind of help?”
“Well…”
It turned out the wizard was in a sort of specialized field.
“Alchemy?”
“Yes, sir, alchemy. I specialize in turning everyday objects into gold.”
Goliath looked at the man again and began to wonder if he might be a little daft.
“Um…?”
“Oh! Yeah, right. I’m uh… not wearing any gold right now but don’t let my appearance fool you. I’m really quite good at my service and recently became rather lucky in the quest.”
Now, while it was true Giants were generally contemplators, they were also gifted with the same insights and generalities of all the humanoid races. One of which was the appreciation of precious metals. Gold, being the most precious of all held quite a bit of intrigue for them. It wasn’t the yellow metal itself, per se, but what the commodity could purchase; namely, books. Giants loved books. Couldn’t get enough books. Went crazy over them because they held the one thing which Giants admired most; information. Giants were the most contemplative beings on the planet and books gave them their gift of internal thought.
“You’re saying you can turn objects into gold?”
The man bobbed his head up and down a few times then stopped.
“Um… well, no. I’ve gotten pretty close but haven’t actually discovered the secret to conversion just yet. But I have recently discovered the art of producksion.”
“Producksion?”
“Yes, sir, producksion. You see, I was working in my lab one day when this goose entered. Now, I didn’t pay it too much heed since, well, since I thought it was a duck. I was wrong, of course, since obviously she’s a goose but by then I’d already coined the phrase. Anyway, I was cooking up a new potion of Insta-gold…”
“Insta-gold?”
“Yes, sir, Insta-gold. It’s the name I’m going to use when I finally bring the product to market. It’s going to be huge! Well, if I can figure out a few kinks, that is…”
Goliath was becoming a bit more intrigued because the man’s enthusiasm was rather infectious.
“So there I was, perfecting my Insta-gold when I got a call from my neighbor. He said he needed help with his fence. You see, some of his cattle had broken loose and he needed me to… you know what? Never mind. It’s got absolutely nothing to do with the story except to explain why I was absent when the deed was done.”
“The deed?”
“Yes, sir, the deed. You see, while I was away the goose began to play and ended up digesting my Insta-gold. Now, I’m not exactly sure what hand Nature played in all this but it doesn’t really matter. I mean, it’s not like she shows much interest in the precious coin. So anyway. That‘s why I’m here.”
“Huh?”
“Huh, what?”
“That’s why you’re here?”
“Uh-huh.”
Goliath wasn’t only intrigued he was also confused.
“I’m not following you?”
“Oh! Oh right! I forgot t
o tell you the most important part.”
Goliath nodded his head in agreement, the man nodded back and then both stood there. For about ten seconds. Until the Giant helped the man with the story.
“And the most important part was…?”
“Oh! Right! Sorry about that. The most important part is the goose now lays golden eggs.”
Goliath looked at the man askew.
“Excuse me?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Did you say golden eggs?”
The man’s face lit with a smile.
“Yes, sir, golden eggs. The prettiest golden eggs you’ve ever laid eyes on.”
Now, Giants were generally trusting individuals. Probably because it would be the height of foolishness to lie to one but the idea of a white bird laying precious treasure was stretching incredulity a bit.
“Are you serious?”
“Yes, sir.”
The way the man punctuated his words led Goliath to believe the man believed he had a goose which laid the precious items but, encountering Humans before, especially the sorcery kind ,had given him trouble in the past so he asked for proof.
“Can it do it now?”
The man glanced at the goose, set it down and began the demonstration.
“Okay, Honkey-Honey, do your stuff.”
They then waited. The man waited, the Giant waited. All waited. Until one didn’t.
Honk!
The goose screamed out her name, the wizard smiled, lifted the feathered gold-mine and Goliath’s eyes almost bulged out of his head.
“Is that…?”
“Yes, sir, that is one-hundred percent gold.”
“Can I hold it?”
The man brought the egg over, the goose followed and all stared at the golden product produced by avian technology.
“This is amazing!”
The man bobbed his head up and down to indicate he felt the same way.
“Yes, sir, amazing it is. And, uh, that’s kind of where the problem arises.”
The change in tone didn’t go unnoticed.
“Problem?”
“Yes, sir, the problem. As it turns out some people don’t particularly like my newest invention.”
“They don’t?”
“No, sir, you see…”
The problem was gold-miners. They saw their way of life terminated by a lone winged creature which held the ability to produce herself what others toiled lifetimes to find. Since most had already spent the greater portion of their adulthoods looking for the mysterious metal the idea of working so long and hard for absolutely no purpose held a rather acrid stench.
“So, you need protection.”
“Yes, sir! Well, I don’t need it myself but Honkey-Honey could sure use some.”
The Giant looked at the white being and smiled. The goose appeared to smiled back. Even with a brain the size of an apple, she realized giant smiling-beings were preferred to the others; the ones who seemed to enjoy chasing her with pitchforks. Goliath thought she was cute. She had beady little black eyes, a soft cuddly feathered exterior and an adorable waddle.
“What do I get in return?”
“Well…”
And so the haggling began. They settled on one egg per month. Goliath would guard the gold-laying water-fowl, the Wizard William would provide his Insta-gold for Honkey-Honey’s consumption and Glenda would be the recipient of the goose’s gift. Goliath presented his wife a new egg every month and she was pleased. So pleased, in fact, she became quite attached to the little creature. So much so, she was forever taking the little down-coated flying machine on daily walks. Walks which drew an interest. Walks which were seen as taunting. Walks which were viewed through wicked lenses.
“We have got to kill that goose!”
“How? It’s guarded by two Giants.”
So a scheme was hatched. It did not go well.
“Hurry, grab that sucker!”
“It’s honking at me!”
“So? It’s a bird for crying out loud!”
The goose got away but only because she made so much noise. The Giants, realizing they would forever be on the lookout for Humans with goose-murder in their heads decided to put some space between Honkey-Honey and the gold miners.
“Do you like it?”
“Oh, Goliath, it’s lovely.”
So Goliath built a house on top of Mount Det. It was the highest point in all the realms. In it they had time to do what Giants did best.
“Which ones did you get?”
“I got Advanced Theology, Alternative Theory, A Life of Bliss…”
They read books. They bought as many as they could. They could afford a lot because Honkey-Honey was quite productive. Wizard William had perfected the Insta-gold and the goose was laying three to four eggs a week. Everything was going splendidly. Until it didn’t.
“Seriously! We have got to kill that goose!”
“How?”
They decided on stealth. The way to the top was actually quite easy for Goliath and Glenda because they were Giants, after all, which held quite a few advantages; trail-walking was not exactly a difficulty for those who could do the hundred-meter dash in four strides. The problem for the Humans was the path. It was too obvious. Either Giant could spot an approaching figure. They decided on scaling the wall instead. They drew straws to determine who would do the deed.
“Crap!”
“Sorry, Jack, you lose.”
So Jack climbed the stalks which grew up the mountainside and finally arrived at his destination. There wasn’t much drama. Jack entered the Giants lair, stuffed Honkey-Honey in a bag and fled. It would’ve been the end if Glenda hadn’t become curious. She wondered why her pet was so quiet. She went to discover the reason. She found feathers on the floor. She saw the open window. She found the footsteps leading to the house. She looked out over the mountain and saw the reason for it all. A single man scaling back down with her pet in a bag. She gave chase. She shouldn’t have.
“I am so sorry, Goliath.”
“Thank you, Mother Nature, your sympathy means a lot.”
She had fallen. The one love in his life had trusted too much in the stalks. They’d broken. She died. A downfall of profound proportions. Goliath was outwardly stoic but inwardly livid. It did not go well for the Humans.
“Uh-oh!”
Splat!
“Yaagh!”
Squish!
He crushed all. He became what they feared. He was unstoppable. Everyone he encountered he killed. All who crossed his path became no more. He became what his kind opposed. An aggressor. A bully. A tyrant.
His realm almost lost every Human inhabitant. She put an end to his misery with six words.
“She would be disappointed in you.”
He shed a tear. He was, at that time, the uncontested ruler of the realm. Nobody opposed him because no one could. She didn’t. She offered her help.
“Come with me.”
“Where?”
“To a better place.”
So he left. The wizard he never saw again. The poor man had a problem. He was incredibly smart but notoriously forgetful. When the man who stole Honkey-Honey returned he’d been greeted as a hero. The bird, not so much.
“What’s for dinner?”
“Pate.”
With the goose out of the way the only remaining obstacle to their time-honored tradition of destroying the countryside in search of a metal with little value except scarcity was the Wizard William. It was decided murder was a bit harsh. So they trashed his laboratory and with it the ingredients to Insta-gold. Everything went smoothly. Until the Giant arrived to exact a little payback for his wife’s death. And stomped most into mush. Which the lesser creatures feasted upon. Which was viewed as quite appropriate in the feathered community since the Humans resembled very much the last known image of Honkey-Honey. So the wizard gave up his quest for instant gold, the Humans eventually returned after the Giant left with Mother Nature and the geese once again laid
only white containers which held their young. Young which the Humans then stole. Young which the Humans fried. Young which the Humans ate with gusto at every morning meal.
“Hello, Goliath.”
“Hello, Mother Nature.”
The Giant was standing at the well, holding a rope. The rope’s other end was in the well.
“Is the Councilor around?”
Goliath smiled. It always amazed people when he did. He was so large, so intimidating, they were always taken aback when he proved he was not the evil kind.
“Yes” he answered.
Mother Nature’s eyes grew light. She adored Goliath. He held her in esteem. He didn’t need to. His was a race which held no equal. If he wished to end her reign he could do so in an instant. He didn’t because he knew what she was. He didn’t because he knew what her promise contained. He didn’t because without her his hope would die. She was the giver of life. The embodiment of birth. Without her the one idea, the last remaining hope he had would perish. Without her the love of his life could never return. Without her Glenda was truly gone forever.
“Are you going to tell me where he is?” she queried with the hint of a smile.
He smiled back.
“I’ll give you three guesses.”
She obviously didn’t need three. She was Mother Nature, after all.
“He’s attached to that rope you’re holding, isn’t he?”
Goliath grinned.
“Yep.”
After getting pulled up the Councilor explained what he was up to.
“I was attempting to locate the exact position the contaminated water is coming from.”
The idea had struck him because he realized the nature of the problem. The groundwater fed into the well from a few underground sources. The sources were the rock bed. They were not many but did their purpose. If he could locate which underground bedrock, which natural channel the bad water ran from, he felt they could block it up and rely on the other sources to provide the liquid. His only problem?
“There’s too much water in the well.”
His solution?
“I need you to grow me the longest bamboo pole in the world.”
So Mother Nature did.
“Now what?”
He grinned at the Giant. He’d been aware the enormous being had toyed with him while he was attempting to locate the contamination source. It hadn’t been hard. While being lowered he was, every once in a while, jerked upward. It scared him to death.
“Yaagh!”
The Giant would feign apology.
“Sorry about that. I had a twitch.”
Clearview, knowing the Giant’s ways, believed him not.
“Well don’t do it again!”
The Giant would nod, which helped Clearview not for he was twenty feet below ground, suspended upside down, inspecting water quality.
“Did you hear me?”
“Yep.”
And then twitched again.
“Yaagh!”
The routine played out until Mother Nature and Hawkeye arrived, Councilor Clearview was pulled from the well, he told what he saw, asked what he wanted, she grew it on the spot and then the Councilor turned to Goliath and answered the question.
“I need you to suck.”
And so the greatest siphoning event ever attempted took place within Mother Nature’s castle as the Giant Goliath placed his mouth over one end of overgrown bamboo, the other end was placed in the well and he sucked.
Gulp!
Gasp!
“Yuck!”
And swallowed some of the vile liquid. Luckily for all his was a constitution so large it would take a lake to cause him lasting discomfort so he recovered rapidly and before anyone knew it the well was dry.
“Okay, lower me back down.”
So Clearview was again lowered and immediately located the problem.
“Okay pull me back up!”
Goliath, realizing he held the upper hand, did as he was asked.
“Yaagh!”
And the Councilor popped out of the well with such speed he flew twenty feet in the air before being plucked to safety by the being who could move mountains.
“That was not funny!”
All thought otherwise.
“What did you learn?”
So he told them.
“The bad water is coming from one branch of bedrock. If we can stop it up or collapse the tunnel we can put an end to the problem.”
So a workforce was formed. While most remained on the wall a few began other chores, dirtier chores, much more dangerous chores.
“It’s not going to work.”
“Why not?”
“Whenever we plug a hole another appears. The rock is too porous. We’ll need another way.”
So another way began.
“Tweedleword?”
“Yes, Councilor?”
“We need a favor.”
And so the Elfin’s knowledge of explosives, aided by Gaia Nature providing the supplies was employed. The miniature creature was lowered in the well, he placed the ordinances where he felt proper, was pulled back out and they waited.
“What are we waiting for?”
The answer came from Clearview.
“The solution we’re attempting is only temporary. If Blight hears of us using explosives he will quickly surmise the reason. If he does another tunnel will be dug in a different location and we will again be in the same predicament. Eventually he will win. We cannot hold out with the limited supplies of water we’ve been using.”
Tweedleword thought on what he said and brought up a rather obvious observation.
“But if all he needs is more tunnels why didn’t he dig them at the beginning?”
“Because his power, while strong, is not all-encompassing. He must remain in sensory contact with the carcass he is using to contaminate the water. Right now, he remains near the first tunnel because he believes we do not have the solution. If he learns we have severed the route, his liquid death follows, he will know his time has been wasted. He will move on to the next and we will again be forced to find another answer. I am afraid he holds the upper hand in this little side battle. He has the supplies. He holds the perimeter. We hold only the castle.”
Tweedleword again thought on what he said and again was a little perplexed.
“So, if he can just dig another tunnel, what’s the point? You’re eventually going to lose.”
Councilor Clearview grudgingly smiled. The Elfin was full of questions but he was basing his curiosity on the past.
“Things have changed, my little friend. I am truly sorry for your loss. We wish we could’ve saved your people. We couldn’t but the results are the same. Without your kind Blight cannot bore through rock. He has not the knowledge nor the material to do so.”
“But Tweedlewink…?”
At the mention of the name, Clearview’s smile faded.
“Yes, he is still a prisoner and if he remains so we will most definitely lose the war.”
Tweedleword's eyes widened.
“Then you’re going to rescue him?”
The Councilor, understanding the need for honesty to one who’d given so much responded with truth.
“We are going to try, my friend. But I believe you should know one thing. While the beasts are slow of wit those who control them are not. General Shield has learned Blight is being guarded by the Elvin. They will know of Tweedlewink's earlier escape and will take precautions so he is unable to commit the deed again. He indicated to the General his intention to inform Blight’s army of the explosives he’s planted. It will keep him safe. It was the smart thing to do and if your kind were still alive I believe it might have been successful. As it is…”
With remembrance came pain.
“As it is, with my kind dead, Tweedlewink will exact revenge.”
“Yes, I believe he will ignite the fuses.”
“But if he’s in their midst…?”
“Then he
will die and you will be the sole survivor of your tribe. I am so sorry. As I said, we will attempt to rescue him but…”
“You don’t think it’s possible, do you?”
“No, I believe whoever we send will meet the same fate as your kind. I believe whoever enters Blight’s encampment will be embarking on a suicide mission.”
As they were talking the others were listening. No one interrupted and Tweedleword understood the meaning.
“I cannot allow you to do that.”
All understood his emotions if not the wisdom of the words. Mother Nature responded.
“Little one, we cannot allow you to attempt the mission. While it holds great dangers it is not without hope. If you enter the fray the hope dies with you. You are one of two, the last of your tribe, and while we celebrate your courage we must deny your right for revenge.”
The one who spoke he could not deny. She was his sovereign. He was her loyal follower. He accepted her decision and bowed his head in prayer hoping his fellow Elfin could escape. He then asked one further question.
“Who will go?”
The look he received almost broke his heart. Her eyes misted up. Her voice choked. All who knew her knew the truth. She loved them all but she loved one more. She looked upon the tiny being and spoke of what she knew.
“General Shield has already decided to attempt the task. He believes I do not know. He is wrong. Something happened the last time he entered Blight’s encampment. It is subtle yet all-compelling. He believes he goes on our behalf. The truth is he goes on another’s.”
Those in attendance felt her emotion. It wasn’t difficult. She shared a bond with all and never hid her feelings. What they were feeling was heartbreak. Heartbreak and pride. Heartbreak for one she loved, one she knew loved her and one who also held feelings for another. Another long since passed. Her pride came from an understanding. A knowing of something vital. Something she could not, would not, wish to change; the undying devotion to a vow which was unbreakable through time.
“The General is going alone?”
“He believes he is. He believes he is entering the field for the last time. He believes he is performing a duty which none can survive. He believes he can find your kind and explode the ordinances. He believes Tweedlewink can escape if he has forewarned knowledge. In fact, we all believe your kind can do so. Most, including the General, do not believe our kind capable of the same. He believes he is giving his life so we might prevail. He is wrong. Two others will follow. He would not allow it so I will not give him the chance. Hawkeye?”
“Yes, Mother?”
“Are you and Longshot ready?”
“Yes, Mother.”
“Then it is almost time. Tweedlewink said he would implode the tunnel in ten hours. The time is at hand. We must be precise. When their tunnel collapses we must plug our end at the same time. If Blight hears our explosion all is lost.”
So four remained; Nature, Goliath, Clearview and Tweedleword. All awaiting the sound which would signal another, one who was waiting to scale the walls and return to battle, one with vengeance on his mind and dedication in his heart. He knew not two others waited. The wait seemed to last for hours. It was merely minutes.
Boom!
“Now!”
Kaboom!
And four waited to see if Blight’s forces detected the second explosion. They didn’t. The first part was finished. The second began before the echoes subsided. As Shield prepared he could feel its coldness, a remembrance of one he held dear. He’d made a vow so many years past its meaning should’ve receded. It hadn’t. It was still there. Ever present if not always visible. A jade locket. A symbol of undying love. A symbol of love lost. He went over the wall. Two followed. And Mother Nature prayed her hopes, her love, would survive.