The Olvion Reality (The Chronicles of Olvion Book 1)

by Larry Robbins

  I started to speak then thought better of it. I was new here and the last thing trained warriors needed was my uninformed input. Vynn saw my indecision.

  “Have you a plan Tag-Gar?”

  I shook my head. “I know nothing of your tactics or abilities.”

  Mag-Gan laughed. “Our tactics are to stay in our outpost and try to make the Greys attack our fortified position. If their leaders were foolish enough to do so we could inflict serious losses upon them. We can usually entice them to do such a thing but we’ve not been able to this time for some reason. They now have settled into a siege. That is an unusually thoughtful strategy for their kind. I fear they are learning from their failures.”

  I thought about the height of the palisade, the charon (the word was apparently the same for individuals and the plural form) and the location of the trees in which the Greys were hiding and waiting. The tree line that was concealing the Greys was over on the side of the fort that I called the East because that was the direction in which the sun rose. The spooked horses were on the West side with the outpost palisade in between. There was a gate on either side. Mag-Gan was probably correct that horsemen could not reach the grazing charon and return in time to avoid being overtaken by the grey brutes. With the landscape laid out as it was the Greys could run from the trees to the west side of the outpost in an arc, avoiding the fort’s defenses and overtake the returning warriors and their prizes before they could complete their task. What was needed was a plan to lure them far enough out of position to the point where they could not attack our charon riders without passing close to the fort. I stroked Tinker’s fur as I thought. Something about the height of the fort was nagging at me. Then it crystalized.

  “How about this?”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Lured

  An hour later the outpost east gate opened. I walked out of the fort in full battle armor, carrying a large canvas bag instead of my shield. The tree line came alive with movement and sounds. Twenty pair of black eyes peeked out at me over slavering mouths. I started walking toward them. I could feel them straining to hold themselves back from charging. I went twenty, thirty, forty paces away from the security of the fort. I stopped at fifty. I heard shouting. I could not understand the words but it sounded a lot like the Grey commander warning his troops not to attack. It should have been obvious, even to these undisciplined brutes that I was trying to entice them out of the trees. At least one of them had some sense.

  I drew my sword and swung it back and forth in their direction. I turned back to the warriors in the outpost, pointed in the direction of the greys and laughed. The warriors lining the tops of the palisade walls laughed along with me. Their laughs sounded forced to me but I didn’t think the beasts would be able to tell the difference. I was able to see Dwan among them. She was watching. She was not laughing. I stuck the point of my sword in the dirt then backed up five paces. I pointed at the sword and raised both hands in an inquiring gesture. I hoped it was conveying the message: “What do I have to do to make you fight me?” When there was no reaction I turned back to the fort and shrugged. The warriors behind me again roared like it was the funniest thing they’d ever seen. I then backed up another five paces. Several angry shouts came to me from the trees but there was no attack. There was another barked command from the tree line.

  Turning my back on the enemy again I put both hands behind my back and took a short circular stroll around my sword, whistling as loudly as I could manage. Again the warriors in the fort laughed riotously. Still no attack from the trees. I was beginning to think my plan wasn’t going to succeed. Now desperate I pinched my vest at the chest between my thumbs and forefingers and pulled out the leather making it look as though I had breasts. I shook the imaginary boobs from side to side and pointed at the trees again. Even to the dull-witted Greys it was obvious that I was calling them women. The laughter from the fort grew louder and sounded more real now, less forced. One of the beasts roared and burst from the woods, waving a bludgeon. An angry shout stopped him and he slowly and reluctantly returned to the trees, shouting at me and waving his club. I pantomimed shooing him back to the trees. But now others were losing their composure also. Several stepped out of the forest cover and into the short grass of the field surrounding the outpost. Their commander shouted warnings which they disregarded.

  I knew I was close to getting the reaction I wanted. The greys were still a hundred yards away from me but inching closer. I turned to face the fort. I saw Dwan on the rampart, now laughing at my antics but a hint of worry still on her face.

  I’ll admit here that my subsequent antics were inspired by the desire to amuse Dwan further. With my posterior now facing the greys I bent over, loosened the drawstring of my leggings and dropped my trousers and wriggled my butt enticingly.

  The sight of my naked hind-parts broke the enemy’s resolve. Two grey beasts screamed in rage and charged at me. I didn’t see them at first because my back was to them and I was mugging at Dwan. Then I saw her frantically pointing and spun around, clumsily pulling up my drawers. I had plenty of time, maybe a full thirty seconds before they would reach me. I waited to make sure they would not be joined by their brethren. Then I casually walked back to my sword and pulled it from the ground.

  The two greys were short, about five feet and four inches tall, broad at the shoulder and chest with thick arms and thighs. One held a lance, the other a sword. By the time I recovered my sword they were upon me. The grey with the lance thrust it at me savagely. I jumped to the side putting him between me and his sword-bearing buddy. The lance slid under my arm leaving a thin red streak on my ribcage. I felt nothing and was actually unaware that the weapon had made contact. I answered his attack by raising my sword over my head with both hands and bringing it down with all of the strength I could muster. The sharp and heavy blade sliced cleanly through leather, arm bones and clavicle, stopping midway into the beast’s torso. The light blinked out of his eyes and I placed my foot on his chest wrenching my weapon free.

  The sword-wielding grey tried to take advantage of my preoccupation with his buddy. He jabbed at me over and over, trying to plant his blade into my belly while keeping his eye on my much larger sword. I hopped backward each time he tried. On the fourth try I hopped forward instead and kicked downward right on his knee joint. The leg bent in backward. The grey screamed in agony but I cut it short by removing his head. The warriors on the wall yelled in triumph and stomped on the ramparts. I felt my actions were nothing to be overly proud of since I towered over both of my attackers and heavily outweighed them.

  The warriors cheering behind me were unaware that I was barely keeping myself from throwing up. The Greys may not have been fully human but they looked enough like us to make the sight of one lying decapitated at my feet was extremely disturbing. I kept reminding myself that this was war and these beasts would gladly butcher and feast on our bodies if they were to prevail. I looked back to the trees, disappointed that even this action had not provoked the hoped for all-out attack. As a last ditch, albeit distasteful effort, I picked up the detached head by its stiff and matted mane and spat in its face.

  That, finally, was too much for the other greys. All of the remaining creatures, including their commander, came running and screaming from the trees with revenge and hate in their plans. I sheathed my sword over my shoulder and unslung the cloth bag. As they got closer my hand slipped inside. One grey was faster and closer than the others. When he was twenty feet from me I withdrew from my sack a heavy river rock the size of a grapefruit. I drew back and put all of my power into a throw. Even on Earth the thrown rock would have been deadly. Here my natural strength aided by the low gravity of Olvion combined to make it lethal. The stone smacked hard into his naked chest and he dropped like the proverbial polled calf. The others were some thirty feet behind this unlucky fleet fellow. I was able to launch four more missiles before having to turn and frantically flee for the safety of the gate. Two of the stones were dodged but on
e scored a direct hit on a grey skull. A fourth sank deep into another beast’s ribcage.

  Once again I found myself running for my life toward the outpost. Ahead of me the gate swung open a crack. A warrior peeked his head out and beckoned me forward as if I did not know that I had to hurry. From behind a spear passed high over my head and skipped harmlessly over the dirt in front of me. Another flashed by my head leaving a notch in my ear. Something else was thrown, probably a club or war hammer. It hit me square in the back but the thick leather vest and metal embellishments on it buffered the punch. It still knocked some breath from me and I staggered a bit. I was close to the gate now. A third spear passed well to my left and lodged deeply into the log wall. The warrior that was urging me onward disappeared back inside. Then I was through the gap and the gates were slammed and barred behind me by two warriors. The others were on the walkways above raining spears and rocks on the heads of my pursuers. Following their customary behavior they were in full attack mode and disregarding the danger of getting too close to the fort’s defenses.

  I dashed up to take my place next to Dwan who was joining in the bombardment of my attackers. I picked up two large stones from a pile at her feet and hurled them at the brutes below. Then I turned and ran around the elevated walkway of the stockade to the gate on the opposite side.

  Unbeknownst to the Grey raiders, while I was engaging in my antics on one side of the outpost, Vynn, Mag-Gan and two other warriors were busy on the other. When the greys converged on the front gate to attack me it put the fort directly between them and the area to the west behind it. That was the location in which the lost horses had been grazing. The height of the structure kept the Greys from seeing the four mounted warriors streak through the rear gate and ride quickly out toward the animals. From my place on the rampart I could see that all four of the horses had already been recovered and were now being led back into the outpost.

  A roar of unintelligible language from below drew my attention. Some of the Greys had detected the deception and were running toward the rear of the fort trying to head off the horsemen. Their problem was that they were still too close to our defenders on the walls. Several had been felled by spears and rocks already. By the time they saw our returning warriors they had two choices: One, they could stay close enough to the fort to reach the other side before the small detachment of warriors got back in. That exposed them to the murderous rain of rocks and spears. Option two, they could detour far enough around the outpost to avoid our weapons but that took them too far away to reach the back gate in time to accomplish anything.

  As it turned out both options were chosen. The group that veered around the palisade avoided further injury but were unable to stop the recovery of the charon in time. The other group took their chances in an effort to reach the rear gate in time. They died.

  By the time the rear gates had been secured with all of our charon and riders safely inside I saw only six surviving greys running for the trees. Instead of dismounting, Mag-Gan shouted orders to his warriors. I couldn’t tell what was being said because I had left Tinker in Dwan’s care before venturing outside of the walls. But it was fairly obvious what was happening. All ten horses were quickly mounted and the front gate was opened. The cavalry then rode down the escaping Greys before they reached the safety of the woods. No mercy was shown. All of the beasts were pinioned by lances or struck down by sword and mace.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Traveling

  With the siege broken, Mag-Gan decided to abandon the outpost in favor of striking out for Olvion. In his opinion the overriding concern now was getting the information to King Zander that the greys were massing for something big, probably an invasion in huge numbers and the inevitable attack on the walled city.

  I found that my actions had earned me a measure of esteem in the eyes of the outpost warriors. As is common among soldiers everywhere, bravery, mixed with recklessness, was well-appreciated. When you added in the fact that I was huge compared to the average male and had my own personal Mountain Child, and a white one at that, I was regarded as something special. Most did not know just how “special” I was, being from a different world and all.

  Only Dwan was less than pleased with my actions. As we started out from the outpost she caught up to me. Tinker saw her coming and sent her out a soft trill. I saw her approaching and foolishly expected her to give me a compliment.

  “Your actions were certainly brave, Tag-Gar, one might even say to the point of foolishness.” I turned to search her expression thinking she might have been joking. She turned her head away quickly from my glance.

  Now, as I have said, my experience with women was really limited. Before recently I rarely had the ability to hold a conversation with one. But even I could tell when a woman was pissed.

  “Are you angry with me?” I asked.

  She shot me a quick look then returned her gaze to the path ahead. There was a darkness to her expression that was impossible to miss. She looked down at her feet when she spoke.

  “I don’t think you should be so quick to place yourself in danger.” She looked up at me again and I thought I might have seen a little moisture gathering on her lower lids. “The threat that we have seen gathering out here is extremely important and must be delivered to Olvion. We will need your sword to get us back.”

  My heart climbed a little way up into my throat. Was this beautiful woman really having feelings for me? I certainly was attracted to her in a big way but I thought, if she was going to take a liking to anyone, it would be someone from her world. She had told me once that she thought I was attractive but that was not the same as having a romantic interest. But there was no mistaking the clues I was seeing in her expressions. In a fashion that was absolutely uncharacteristic of me I decided to explore the issue further but in a playful manner.

  “Why, Healer Dwan, do I detect a concern for me that goes beyond a professional level?”

  I have done some really stupid things in my lifetime, especially when it comes to interacting with females. My decision to try being cute with Dwan regarding her feelings for me ranked up there with the best (or worst) of them. She turned her head toward me very slowly and gave me a look that could only be described as “glacial”. She then turned away and strutted quickly forward, leaving me behind.

  Tinker chittered and squeezed my earlobe.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I know, I blew it.”

  The trip to Olvion was a long one. Two soldiers that had been injured in the attack on the outpost rode while others walked. One mount was used by whomever was riding point in front of us to scan for ambush. Should one occur he was ordered not to engage but instead to ride hard for Olvion and warn the city of the coming danger. The remaining horses were being used to carry the equipment and supplies we needed to make it to the stronghold. Dwan had been offered a horse but she refused, preferring to walk with the men. She busied herself dressing small injuries from falls or blisters. Surprisingly, when she was not so engaged she spent much of her time with me, obviously now having forgiven me for scaring her with my antics outside the outpost on our first day there.

  We continued to exchange information about our respective home worlds. Dwan was fascinated by the possibility that I had come from an entirely different planet. The long walk afforded her the opportunity to make speculations on my situation. She would pose several different possibilities each day and, together, we would discuss, dismiss or keep them for later discussion. One of her favorite theories was that The Legend was a figure brought to her world at least once before by sympathetic higher powers when the need arose. She had long suspected that The Legend may have come from a different time, a different planet or even a different “plane”, a phrase I took to be referring to a dimension. I was surprised to learn she was even aware of such possibilities.

  The longer we spoke the more I realized that my initial impressions of this world were not entirely correct. The technology was definitely more advanced than the Iron Age, as
demonstrated by the advances in plumbing and sanitation that I had witnessed. Dwan’s batch of medicines were also much more effective than the roots and berries used by early man. The injuries I had received in my fight to free her and Vynn were already healed, even the deep thigh wound.

  I asked about firearms, cannon and explosives. Dwan had no knowledge of any of them. Nor did she know of anything like an internal combustion or steam engine. I asked Vynn and Mag-Gan but no one knew of anything similar to flammable fluids such as oil or gasses like propane. I had to conclude that the naturally-occurring chemicals and elements which made our industrial revolution comparatively easy on Earth were either non-existent on this world or in such short supply that they could not be gathered and exploited in any usable amounts.

  For her part, Dwan was intrigued by my description of airplanes and automobiles. She would watch me intently while I spoke, probably searching my expressions for hints of dishonesty or making a joke. The concept of huge airplanes flying hundreds of people thousands of miles in the space of a few hours was fascinating to her. She would bombard me with countless questions as we hiked along.

  The journey was long but not unpleasant. The weather continued to be mild and the insects were rarely much of a problem. We had opened the larders at the outpost and packed plenty of meat and vegetables on our mounts. Streams and brooks were abundant and we had no shortage of clean water. Tinker would ride the whole day on my shoulder, her eyes scanning the surroundings as if she enjoyed the sights. Sometimes when Dwan walked by my side she would scamper from my shoulder to hers, holding onto one of her ebony braids.

  The pink sky continued to amaze me. When the sun sank low to the horizon we were treated each night to an amazing display of deep colors and pale pastels. When the night loomed thousands of birds would explode simultaneously from the trees seeking their evening meal. I also saw a rich variety of mammals that had heretofore stayed hidden from my eyes. One large brute that looked very much like a grizzly bear watched us from a den of rock and branches as we passed. Dwan identified it as an urso and we all watched it nervously until we were far enough away to feel safe.