The Portal

by Brock Deskins

  The beating of wings overhead interrupted Drew’s sleep just before sunrise. He opened his eyes and watched a snow owl light upon a low branch in a nearby tree. It gave him a short, high-pitched shriek from its hooked beak. Drew propped himself up on an elbow and watched the beautiful bird spread its long wings and take flight.

  As the bird passed overhead, it appeared to drop something from its talons near his bedroll before disappearing into the waning night. He felt around until he found the small, cylindrical object. It was a slender wooden tube with a small sheet of rough paper rolled inside of it. His face split in a large grin as he read the message it contained by the soft glow of the dwindling fire.

  Drew, we are coming after you. Don’t worry, we’ll find you.

  Drew felt a surge of relief knowing his friends were coming for him. He was so tired he could not even ponder the potential danger they faced just to save him. He rolled over onto his back and closed his eyes. Sleep came much easier for him this time, his dreams less haunting.

  He awoke, stiff and sore as usual, and his back still stung from his beating. At least the wounds had scabbed over and were no longer weeping. He found the tiny missive still clutched in his hand. He tossed the paper into the fire, watched the corners curl and blacken, before being consumed by the low flames. After another cold and bland breakfast, they trudged on. The passage sloped ever downward, and gave Drew hope that they would soon be departing the mountain range.

  The woods became decidedly thicker while the snow became thinner, until it covered only the shaded areas under the thick boughs of the evergreens and the occasional boulder before it finally disappeared altogether.

  Despite the slow yet constant increase in temperature, Drew kept his blankets wrapped around him. The land below the mountain heights was considerably warmer. He decided this would be the night he put his escape plan into action.

  After a day of blissfully uneventful marching, the goblins stopped a few miles from the base of the mountains. The forest provided an abundance of wood, so the fire was larger than usual. Several goblins went out on a foraging party and returned highly successful.

  Several rabbits and a small deer made for a well-deserved bounty that evening. Even Droog’s dour spirit seemed to have lifted a bit, and he joined his fellows in drinking and revelry instead of sitting apart and drinking himself into a stupor. The goblin leader even laughed uproariously every time he kicked over the pinecones Drew was collecting and stacking into piles to pass the time.

  The goblins danced and carried on around the fire long after Drew fell asleep. He woke sometime during the night to the raucous snores of the disgusting dozen—as Drew had taken to calling the filthy goblin band.

  A slight chill ran through him as the fire burned low, a situation he would soon remedy. He listened intently but heard no sound beyond the sleeping goblins. The boy stared out into the darkness of the trees, but he could see no sentries in the wan light provided by the half moon.

  Drew reached into his pocket and pulled out the pocketknife he still possessed, thanks to the goblins not bothering to search him, and cut the cords binding his hands together. He stood and slowly crept around the perimeter of the small camp, yet still found no sign of anyone alert or keeping vigil. He counted the sleeping goblins and saw that three were missing. Drew figured they must be farther out than usual due to the moonlight and warmer climate.

  The young human returned to his bedroll and secured it for travel. He took a blanket lying near the unconscious form of one of the goblins and piled all the pinecones he had collected into the center of it before tying the corners together. He then went about and collected every jug of the potent drink that remained. He poured the caustic liquid over the goblins and equipment that lay near the fire.

  Drew threw the satchel of pinecones and the one remaining jug of spirits onto the fire, sprinted to a large fallen log near the edge of the camp, and hid. Within seconds of reaching his hiding place, the pinecones started to pop, sending flaming embers leaping out at the alcohol-soaked goblins and their gear. The cracking of burning pinecones and sudden increase in flames woke the inebriated goblins.

  Any goblin managing to sleep through the popping pinecones was quickly brought out of his slumber by the screams of a goblin whose alcohol-wetted blanket was ignited by a flying cinder. The three sentries quickly appeared, drawn from their posts by the ruckus back at the camp. One came so near the hiding human that Drew could have reached out and touched him. As soon as the goblin ran past, Drew crept out from beside the log and jogged into the darkness of the early morning.

  Droog spied the bundle of pinecones on top of the low fire and shouted for one of the goblins to knock it away. A yellow-skinned goblin grabbed a branch and reached in to fling the bundle away just as the jug of flammable swill exploded, sending a wash of flame and fiery missiles into the ranks of goblins. Several blankets and two of the goblins were set alight the instant the burning pinecones struck them. The goblin attempting to separate the pinecone bundle from the fire was completely engulfed in flames and ran about the camp like a crazed, screaming fire elemental.

  Droog cast his furious eyes around the camp in search of his prisoner while the others were trying to smother the flames of their two comrades.

  “The human has escaped! Find him, he must not get away!” Droog screamed and kicked at the two goblins smoldering in the dirt until they gained their feet and set off with the rest.

  It did not take long for the goblins to pick up the trail of the fleeing prisoner and tore after him in pursuit. Drew sprinted through the trees, using his hands to ward his face from the branches that tried to gouge his eyes out as he ran. He could hear the shouts of the goblins far in the distance, and was determined to gain an even larger lead as long as he could keep his legs moving. His side ached and his lungs felt as if they were on fire.

  After what seemed an eternity of running, he slowed to a walk and listened for the sounds of pursuit over his own heavy breathing but heard nothing. Either he had gained enough of a lead that he could not hear them, they followed in silence, or he had lost them. Only time would tell. He just hoped his friends would find him soon.

  **

  The first two days and nights of travel passed without incident—almost. They had stopped for a rest and some water, when Chase approached Chuck with a pear-shaped piece of armor sporting leather straps to affix it in place.

  “Hey Chuck, I thought you may want this,” Chase offered, holding up the protective metal piece.

  “What is it?” Chuck asked, looking perplexedly at the device.

  “It’s a face guard. I noticed that you have an open-faced helmet so I thought you may want this so no goblin club messed up your pretty face,” the mischievous rogue replied with a smile.

  “Very funny, Chase, but thanks; I appreciate it. Hmm, not much airflow,” Chuck commented as he put it to his face and buckled the straps around his helmeted head.

  “Any holes would allow an arrow or weapon a chance to slip through, and that wouldn’t be a good thing,” Chase assured him. “Besides, now you look like Shredder from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.”

  “Really? Cool. Hey, guys, check this out,” he called out to the rest of the party as he walked over to them to show off his steel mask. “I look like Shredder! Pretty cool, huh?”

  Fits of laughter forced its way between pressed lips that failed to hold back the tide of mirth.

  “Um, Chuck, what do you have on your face?” Phil asked, biting his lower lip to keep from bursting out in laughter.

  “It’s a face shield. Chase gave it to me because my helmet doesn’t have one,” the large youth explained.

  “It looks rather used,” Ted observed and pressed his hand over his mouth tightly, trying to control the laughter that wanted desperately to escape.

  Chuck looked at his friends, confused as to what they found so hilarious. “Yeah, I think the last guy that owned it must have liked to eat that really smelly cheese; he left his
breath all in this thing.”

  His friends could no longer contain themselves. Chuck’s declaration of the smell coupled with his own obliviousness had them rolling and pounding on the ground in uncontrolled laughter.

  “What’s so damned funny?” Chuck demanded, angry at being the butt of some joke he did not understand.

  Felicia stood up and finally came to his rescue. “Chuck, that is a codpiece, not a face shield,” she explained carefully.

  “So what’s a codpiece for, fishing?” he asked, still not getting it.

  “No, not fishing Chuck, definitely not fishing,” she replied.

  “Not unless you’re fishing for trouser trout!” Gabe belted out in a rare show of lowbrow humor.

  Chuck tore at the buckles, pulled the codpiece off his face, and stared at it. “Are you telling me this is a nut cup?”

  “Um, yeah, but look on the bright side. You were really close with that cheese remark,” Phil said helpfully.

  “Chase, I’ll kill you!” Chuck roared, searching for the practical joker without luck.

  The party let Chuck burn off his anger for another fifteen minutes then decided it was time to start moving again.

  “Think we should wait for Chase?” Gabe asked.

  “I’m sure he’s watching the whole thing right now and will follow us when we go,” Felicia assured them.

  “Chuck, let’s go. You can kill him later,” Josh called to his friend.

  Chase reappeared as they set up that first night’s camp. Chuck had calmed down enough that Chase’s life was no longer in danger, but he swore he would get his revenge eventually. They pitched their tents and slept soundly. Each of them pulled a guard shift until morning came, then they headed out once again.

  Phil and Felicia walked about a hundred yards ahead of the others while Chase brought up the rear as was usual. The day was clear, the air brisk, and frost still dusted the leaves of some of the plants that hid from the sun within the shadows of the trees. The late morning sun filtered through the thick boughs of the evergreen trees.

  “You think Drew is all right?” Gabe asked, worried for his friend.

  Ted assured his portly friend. “I’m sure he is; he has a way of getting himself into trouble without actually suffering the consequences of it.”

  “What do you think this Darkrell guy is going to do to him once he gets hold of him?”

  “Try and make him open another gate I suppose, but he’ll need the book most likely so he’ll have to wait for us. Regardless, he can’t take a chance on hurting Drew, or it might ruin his plans.”

  “I hope so,” Gabe replied, wiping sweat from his brow.

  Even though the day was cool, the group was dressed warmly and their muscles worked hard traveling with their armor on, so it was impossible not to work up a sweat.

  “Do you think we have to wear all this armor the entire time? Couldn’t we just put it on before we get in a fight?” Gabe complained.

  “You never know when you might come under attack. Remember, the first fight we were in was an ambush. We would not have had time to put it on in that vision, dream, or whatever you want to call it either,” Ted reasoned with him.

  “Easy for you to say, you don’t have to wear the stuff. Do you think we will be attacked again?”

  The twins answered Gabe’s question as they ran back down the trail they all followed and sounded an alarm.

  “Orcs ahead and chasing us!” they cried in unison.

  Phil broke left as Felicia darted to the right, both finding cover off to the sides of the trail. Chuck and Josh pulled their weapons and set themselves to prepare for the charge.

  “Gabe, grab the horses and tie them up off the path,” Josh shouted back to him.

  The chunky cleric snatched up all three sets of reins and jogged into the woods while the horses eagerly plodded after, as if they could sense that danger was approaching. The party could hear the orcs crashing through the woods, rushing after the two humans they had espied.

  Ted immediately began an incantation, and a thick, green fog sprang up along the path ahead of Josh and Chuck. A second quick spell produced a shimmering transparent screen that hovered a foot in front of him, shielding the wizard from head to toe.

  The first orcs charged headlong into the thick, noxious fog, immediately fell to their hands and knees, and retched uncontrollably. The orcs were hideous looking creatures, every bit as ugly as the goblins but without the goblin’s gremlin-like charm. They looked like huge pigs shaped into the form of a man. Their noses were large and upturned, with tusks jutting from their jaws and curling over their upper lip. Their arms were thick with corded muscles and wielded a vicious assortment of weapons. Beady eyes filled with rage and hate promised a cruel and painful death.

  The trailing orcs bolted to the side after seeing their comrade’s fall to the toxic vapors. Several of the bestial men split to the left, while others broke to the right of the path and their incapacitated kin.

  Phil let fly a stream of arrows, firing one after another as quickly as he could nock and pull, barely taking the time to aim. Felicia sent a trio of orcs to the ground with lethal shots of her own. She was given a reprieve when the wind blew the foul cloud into the path of several orcs attempting to bear down on her, causing them to stumble and become violently sick.

  Josh struck at the orcs charging Phil’s position hard in the flank and drew their attention to him. Three of the creatures stopped their charge and turned as the newest threat cut down two of their numbers with an equal number of swings from his lethal blade.

  The three creatures, each as big as Chuck, quickly put Josh on the defensive. What they lacked in fighting style, they easily made up for in brutality. Josh dodged and parried the clumsy but powerful blows of one orc wielding a spiked, iron-headed morning star, and another slashing viciously with a notched and rusted falchion. The third was trying to get past its brethren and onto the human’s flank, but Josh kept moving in order to keep the two orcs he battled between him and the third.

  Chuck interposed his sword and shield between Felicia and the orcs that managed to get past the debilitating cloud, hacking into the hog-faced creatures with a frenzy that matched their own. The brutality of his attack caught the orcs off balance, and the human was able to cut three of them down before the creatures formed a cohesive defense and engaged the large human with more caution. Chuck’s inertia was dampened, but with Felicia still sending her lethal arrows into any orc that gave her a clear shot, she and Chuck continued to devastate their enemy’s ranks.

  Gabe had just secured the horses when the first orcs burst out onto the trail ahead of his friends. He ran back as fast as his legs could carry his heavy body and drew his mace from his belt as he ran. He watched the slowly dissipating green fog drift to the right of the battlefield. He saw that Chuck and Felicia were doing a good job of defending that side. He looked left and watched Phil sling his bow over his shoulder and engage a pair of orcs with his broadsword, while two other monsters pressed Josh back with a third jockeying for a position at his flank.

  Gabe added his support to the defense of the hard-pressed left flank, calling upon divine energy to heat the sword of the orc attacking Josh. The metal began to glow a dull orange and rapidly heated to white-hot so fast that the smell of burnt pork was the first sign the orc realized something was amiss before the searing heat forced him to drop the weapon.

  Instead of retreating, the beast lashed out with its uninjured fist. Josh intercepted the swing with his blade and sheared cleanly through the thick flesh and hard bone. This significantly more grievous injury caused the creature to back away, clutch its critically injured stump to its chest with its burned hand in an effort to slow the blood spurting from the severed stump. The wounded orc’s retreat allowed the third orc to bring its spiked club into range and smash it hard against the steel pauldron protecting Josh’s right shoulder.

  Gabe knew he must provide more direct help to his beleaguered friends as more orcs b
urst through the woods. He called upon his lord to aid his friends and felt courage and a sense of wellness fill his body; he knew his friends also felt the blessing upon them. He then prayed for strength and charged into the fray, swinging his mace with an enhanced strength that rivaled even Chuck’s impressive might. Gabe brushed aside the attack of an orc with such force, the creature’s weapon went spinning out of its hand and landed several yards away in the thick ferns blanketing the forest. His return swing caught the surprised orc in the side of its large, piggish head, dropping it to the ground.

  “Nice job, Gabe!” Josh shouted, congratulating the timid boy while blocking another attack before driving his sword through the gut of the orc attacking him.

  Gabe just nodded as he focused on the battle and tried to work through the fear coursing through his body. Another of the foul beasts leapt out at him, swinging a heavy-bladed axe in an overhead chop intent on splitting his skull in twain. The cherubic young cleric brought his mace over his head and blocked the vicious cut. His magically enhanced strength kept the blade from striking a mortal blow, but he was still borne to the ground by the force of the powerful creature’s attack.

  Gabe, lying flat on his back, brought his mace across his body, hoping to block the next swing as the huge orc brought his axe over his head in preparation of his next strike. The axe never fell as a fletched bolt sprouted from the side of the orc’s thick neck. The orc slapped at the shaft with one free hand as if a bee had just stung him before toppling over onto his side.

  Gabe looked in the direction his salvation had come from and saw a glimpse of Chase’s dark motley cloak before he disappeared into the shadowed woods once again. The cleric quickly got to his feet and saw two more orcs charging Phil. Phil was already engaged with one orc; a second lay dead nearby. He shouted at the two orcs bearing down on his friend’s left flank with a simple but spiritually bolstered command.