The Axe's Edge

by Summers, Derick J. M.

  “Ares? As in the God of War, Ares? Wonderful,” grimaced Lan. “Nothing like picking fights with the gods.”

  Raeth considered this for several moments.

  “That actually makes a strange kind of sense.”

  Lan’thor turned his confused gaze on her.

  “Think about it,” she continued. “Siris rose to power as a military leader. Took control of a throne, placed his own puppet upon it and then proceeded to try and enslave the rest of the world. How could he not be a champion of Ares? That’s just the sort of thing that the war god adores.”

  Lan’thor found himself nodding as he followed her logic.

  “It still doesn’t change the fact that we have a much bigger fight on our hands than we initially expected.”

  “We’ll have to talk it through later,” interrupted Logan. “Right now, we need to be moving. El can you make us into squirrels?”

  Lan’thor and Raeth stared at Logan in horror.

  “Relax,” soothed El. “It’s just how we’ll appear to any mages trying to track us.”

  “Even the really persistent blind kind?” asked Lan.

  “Hopefully.”

  Finally on the move, the companions headed away from the scene of the battle, but toward the east rather than straight south. They knew the General and Reese would expect them to run home and they weren’t inclined to be that conveniently predictable. As it was, their pace was frustratingly slow and for once it wasn’t Logan who slowed the group down. Lan leaned heavily on El, his arm draped over her shoulder. Raeth stumbled along behind them, refusing to accept the weakness of her wounded leg.

  Exhaustion was taking its toll on all of them and it was quite telling that Logan was actually leading. He felt bad for his companions and he desperately wanted to let them rest, but they couldn’t afford to take the time. El was right, the sound and light show from her battle with Ar’n’tor and his dramatic death would be certain to alert Reese. It was only a matter of time before they had another Goblin horde on their trail.

  Musings

  Reese studied the crater in the burned out clearing through his apparently sightless eyes. He moved carefully, periodically stopping to examine something closer or touch his hand to a particular rock or bush.

  Siris stood at the edge of the clearing waiting impatiently but taking care to keep out of his mage’s way. Despite all their years together, he was never quite certain how much Reese could actually see. The initial impression looking into those milky white orbs was that the mage was completely blind. But, Reese’ agility often left Siris wondering if the old man’s eyes actually worked on some level or if he was using his magic to compensate. If he’d had to guess, he would assume it was the latter. Regardless, what he did know from his years with the mage was that however he managed it, the man missed nothing.

  As patiently as he could, Siris waited for Reese to finish, his own eyes watching the movements of the small Goblin horde that they’d brought with them to secure the perimeter of the clearing. With a sigh, he noticed that they were squabbling as usual. Gods, how he hated these creatures - smelly and stupid, they were constantly fighting and quarrelling. He would much rather use the Dark Elves they had enslaved in the village, but he knew they could not be trusted yet. They were not bent to his will and they still attempted an occasional escape, even after so many had failed, after so many had become little more than walking dead, sacrificing their life energies to feed his hunger.

  Thankfully, he required less and less of that energy. It had taken many of the Dark Elves to bring him back from the dead, but significantly fewer to keep him alive, which was good, as too great a demand could become a serious liability over time. Even the reduced requirement would take its toll on their population and Siris was going to have to spread his control out from the Dark Elf village. That was fine as far as he was concerned. Siris had always lived to conquer, now he had to conquer to live. Given how integral the Forest Elves had been in his death and the loss of Tael, it seemed poetic to Siris that the next people he conquered to feed his hungers be those very same Forest Elves. Siris never intended to die again. Unfortunately for those around him, it meant that an awful lot of other creatures were going to have to in his stead.

  If he was careful and didn’t overextend himself, it would be possible to live off the Dark Elves for years to come. Siris snickered aloud to himself. Elves, with their incredibly long life spans, offered a great deal of potential energy. They made wonderful living batteries, but moderation? Moderate and careful really didn’t fit with his personality or his plans, or Ares’ for that matter. No, he was going to take back what had been taken from him. He was going to make those who had taken it from him pay dearly and he would enjoy every moment of their screams.

  Two of the quarrelling Goblins had escalated their hostilities and were rolling around in the underbrush fighting. Siris sighed again.

  Awful creatures, he thought not for the first time. They are lucky I have a use for them or I’d kill them all.

  Easily intimidated and controlled, as long as you kept the orders simple, they were also beautifully vicious. Unfortunately, what that gained them as shock troops was nearly completely lost when you considered how cowardly they were. When it came to combat, the little horrors preferred to outnumber their opponents by a significant margin, three or four to one was the preference. Or if that wasn’t possible, they at least wanted to ensure that their potential prey was already badly injured. The idea of a fair fight sent them running. No, in the end, the most significant benefit to using Goblins was that you didn’t get just one Goblin, you got a whole horde of them, thirty or more of the beasts at a time. That added to their expendability and suddenly you had the perfect advance troops.

  Of course, you still had to keep the little beast’s occupied. If you didn’t keep them constantly busy, they would easily spend all their time and energy fighting amongst themselves. How the race had survived through the ages was beyond him. Idleness was never good where Goblins were concerned and they had an incredibly annoying habit of forgetting even the most basic instructions about five minutes after they were issued. As if to prove this point, one of the little monsters began heading directly toward the burned out clearing which Reese had declared strictly off limits. Sighing again to himself, Siris prepared to reprimand the fidgety creature.

  A flash of energy surged across the clearing and struck the offending Goblin square in the head burning a hole right through it and sending the body of the would be offender tumbling head over feet into the swamp. The General smiled, Reese understood the Goblins very well. Give an instruction and then reinforce it with extreme malevolence. With a genuine smile stretched broadly across his face, he turned to his friend.

  “So, what did you find out?”

  Assessing The Damage

  The sun had set and the moon had yet to rise as the companions pushed their way through the deep blackness of the swamp. Logan still led, but between finding a safe passage through the swamp and ensuring that his injured and exhausted friends could keep up, the going had been painfully slow. It was dark enough now that even his own excellent night vision wasn’t offering much and he was relying more and more on his superior sense of hearing.

  If he had been on his own, he would have pressed on. It would have been a risk in the unfamiliar swamp but not an undue one. But, he was leading his friends and their senses, though finely developed, were not quite up to the task. Confirmation of this came each time he heard El and Lan stumble. He realized that it was now simply too dark for them to continue, their exhaustion compounding the problem. He called the group to a halt.

  “We’ll rest here for a bit,” he announced quietly. “When the moon rises we’ll try to put in some more miles. Raeth, if you think you’re up for it and it’s not too dark for you, I wouldn’t mind knowing how much of a head start we’ve got.”

  Raeth was clearly injured, Logan knew that, but she was somehow able to push past the pain and had been able to k
eep pace with Logan. It was a lot to ask, but with her knowledge of the swamp she was the only reasonable choice. Nodding her assent, she pulled the fabric of her black silk scarf over the lower half of her face and slipped away into the swamp. Just like that, she was gone, swallowed by the night without so much as a branch broken underfoot.

  Logan shook his head, it always amazed him how well she could do that. It wasn’t just the fact that she disappeared from sight. He knew that was easy to explain away given the darkness and the black mottled cloak she wore. No, it was the fact that she was so quiet that even his sensitive ears could barely track her as she moved through the treacherous terrain of the Great Swamp.

  Logan sighed to himself. Deep down he knew that they didn’t have much time. Even without Raeth’s reconnaissance, he was sure of that. Logan knew from stories and folklore that a Goblin horde preferred to hunt at night. The little monsters were naturally nocturnal. Like himself, their eyes were large and wide, offering great night vision. And even at times like this, that dark time between the setting sun and the rising moon, they had other senses that made up for their lack of vision. Like his own, the Goblin ear was slightly pointed and was able to move independently in order to track sounds. It made the creatures incredibly sensitive to even the tiniest sound. Unlike the Elves who could only operate in moderate darkness, the Goblins were effective hunters in even total darkness. Even the mottled grey of their skin and the rags they chose to wear acted much like Raeth’s cloak, allowing them to blend into the darkness and shadows cast by the moonlight.

  Given their obvious predisposition to night hunting, it was all the more impressive that the General had managed to get the creatures out into the daylight. Logan couldn’t help marvelling at Siris’ incredible power over the Goblins. How had he attained such control? The thought sent shivers down his back.

  Regardless of how, the night was the Goblins’ time and it would be at night that the horde would most likely find their trail. And once they had the trail, the monsters would be relentless. No, they really didn’t have much time at all.

  El’dreathia was helping Lan’thor lower himself to the ground near a large tree. The mad scramble through the swamp had to hurt like Hades on his injured friend. As Logan had noted before, the same energy that had taken his arm had mostly cauterized it, but the swamp was almost certain to infect it. As El pulled back the bandages and examined the wound, Logan’s sensitive nose picked up the unmistakable scent of decay. Moving closer, he breathed deeper.

  Definitely infected, he thought and relayed the information to El. Apparently, the swamp had delivered on its guarantee.

  With the wound already decaying and with all the other small wounds covering Lan’s body, Logan could only hope that the herbs El had been feeding Lan throughout the day would be able to keep up with the infection. Thankfully, they seemed to be holding off shock, but the adrenaline and the herbs wouldn’t hold out forever. Lan needed rest, a clean place to heal, and proper medical care - and he needed it soon. They desperately needed to get him to Tanel. Fleeing for his life through a humid, wet and stagnant swamp was definitely not helping.

  When the answer finally struck Logan he felt immensely inspired and then immensely stupid for not thinking of it earlier.

  Eureka!

  Of course, he thought. We’re in a swamp! Why didn’t I think of it sooner?

  It’s about time you stopped running and started thinking, announced a deep voice in his mind.

  You could have suggested it, he thought back to Hephaestus.

  “I’ll be right back,” he quietly announced to El and Lan before disappearing into the darkness, the moon just beginning to rise and offer him a small measure of light.

  Moving as quickly as he could, Logan used Leveller to fell ten medium size trees and then shortened them down to eight-foot lengths. He cringed to think what the Dwarves would think about him using a rune weapon as a simple axe, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Besides, Leveller’s ever sharp blade made incredibly short work of the task.

  Laying the logs side-by-side, he cross-braced them with another, smaller length of tree. Next, he grabbed some vines that hung off the larger trees and got to work lashing the logs securely together.

  A raft, spoke a voice softly in his head, surprising him. Good idea.

  Logan had been so occupied with his build that he hadn’t even felt El’s approach.

  Raeth figures we’ve got about two hours, maybe three if we’re lucky.

  Logan nodded as he continued lashing the logs on his makeshift raft.

  “I’m not thinking that we should rely on luck at this point,” he commented quietly. “That’s about what I expected. I think I’m almost done here, could you get the others ready to move out?”

  Logan worked for several minutes more. Now that he was listening for it, his sensitive ears were picking up the sounds of his friends preparing to move on. Carefully, Logan pushed the raft to the water’s edge. The swamp was a maze of small and large waterways. The raft should allow them to move much easier and, more importantly, much faster. Not to mention that it would also give Lan’thor a much needed break and, if Logan recalled correctly, he was pretty sure that the Goblins weren’t particularly fond of water. So, maybe, just maybe, they might catch a break.

  Standing, Logan took a moment to check his work as it floated in the little channel, before turning to face his approaching friends.

  “Hey, a raft,” croaked Lan has he leaned heavily on Raeth. “That should make things a bit easier.”

  Logan smiled broadly at his friend.

  “That was the general idea, Lan. It’ll be easier on the legs and with El and I taking turns on the polling, it’ll give everyone a chance to catch a bit of rest. Raeth, do you think you’ll be able to guide us out?”

  The assassin nodded her assent and Logan waved toward the waiting raft as it bobbed against the bank.

  “So, Lan, after you.”

  Arr, Matey!

  The raft wasn’t big by any means, a mere four feet by eight feet, but Logan had made it sturdy enough. His lashings pulled tight against the wood. El then reinforced his construction with a little magic, making the raft bit more sea-worthy and stable. Even so, with all four of them aboard, the raft sat quite low in the water. It was clear they would all be more than a little bit soggy by the time they disembarked.

  Logan took first turn at the long pole he had cut for the purpose. Plunging the pole deep into the water, he touched bottom and leaned against it, pushing the raft away from the shore.

  Space was tight on the small craft and they arranged to keep Lan near its centre. This meant that everyone else was near the water’s edge, but no one wanted to take the risk of him passing out and falling off into the swamp. Raeth, in an uncharacteristically soft moment, insisted that Lan sit quietly, and then wrapped him up tightly in his cloak so he would hopefully avoid catching a chill. She’d even gone so far as to offer her own cloak to pillow his head before she moved to the front of the raft to guide Logan on his way. Lan seemed inclined to protest the treatment, but he was in no state. The infection, the hours of hard travel and all the action that had preceded them had finally caught up to him and he gratefully collapsed in the centre of the raft.

  El’dreathia continued to tend him there. She checked his wounds again and added more salves before insisting that he take more of her herbs. When she was satisfied that she’d done all she could she finally let him sleep.

  Logan was aware when the Goblin horde found their vacated camp. Thankfully, though the Goblins might be nocturnal and able to track at night, they were far, far from silent. and noise traveled easily over the water. Logan heard their moment of discovery, heard their keening wails of frustration when they realized their prey had evaded them. He heard them quarrelling with one another as they searched the site. And finally, he heard them push on as the trail was rediscovered and then lost again at the water’s edge.

  Logan smiled to himself and pushed h
arder on the pole. The goal was simple, put as much distance between them and their pursuers as possible. He soon had the raft moving at a respectable speed through the swamp’s maze of channels and waterways. Raeth sat cross-legged at the front scanning the bank for trouble and pointing out directions, helping Logan navigate.

  They had been keeping a steady pace for several hours. The moon was up and offered plenty of light for Logan to see by. Thankfully, Raeth’s night vision was similar to Logan’s and she was able to guide them smoothly. Only once had she gotten mixed up, the channel they followed ending in a dead end. It was a relatively short passage and only required a small amount of back tracking to find their way out of it and into the correct channel.

  Moving as they were in the centre of the channels, the large reptiles that called these waterways home mostly ignored them, preferring to hunt along the shallows near the banks. Even so, they were all wary when they passed close to what appeared to be a fallen tree bobbing in the water. Logan pulled as wide as he could, giving the log a wide berth. He wasn’t at all surprised when the ‘tree’ blinked at him.

  Of course, added to these natural hazards was the ever-present threat that the Goblins would eventually pick up their scent again. And about an hour after the Goblins had found their abandoned camp, the little monsters did just that. Logan could hear them moving purposefully through the swamp. Digging in with the pole, he pushed harder to keep them ahead of their pursuers but eventually he heard the little monsters crash through the underbrush of the near bank.

  Several Goblins shook their fists angrily and made rude gestures at them from the shore. A few even went so far as to throw their spears, though the distance was too great and the projectiles sank uselessly into the swamp. They did their best to pace the raft, running along the bank as they tried to keep it in sight. The maze of channels worked in the companion’s favour, often blocking the pursuers’ path and making the horde waste time taking long detours.