The Fires of Starpoint Mountain

by Bill Albert

  “So far we’ve kept in tight formation.” Che-Wing reported. “Everyone on the team has been doing what they needed to do when they needed to do it,” he added proudly.

  “I wouldn’t have expected anything else,” Mekon said honestly. “For years the Giant Lords have depended on your excellent teams.”

  “We do our best, sir,” Che-Wing saluted. As he spoke, he looked to one side and there was a flash of concern on his face. Mekon followed his gaze and turned to see that one of the torches that had been placed along the road had gone out. “Excuse me, sir,” Che-Wing said and walked away.

  He tapped on of his guards, who had just started a plate of hoy foot, on the shoulder and pointed to the darkened area. Without question the armed and uniformed hobgoblin put down his dinner and calmly slipped away.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” Che-Wing said calmly to Mekon.

  “I looked just a few moments ago and thought the torch was burning brightly. I didn’t realize it was that close to going out,” Mekon said.

  “It shouldn’t have been, sir. It is a standing order to replace them every other day whether they are needed or not.”

  They finished their meals talking about how comfortable the weather had been and how they were on schedule. There had been no rain or heavy winds so the road was dry and manageable and should stay that way for some time.

  As they chatted Che-Wing looked back and saw that the torchlight was still not burning as it should. He looked up at Mekon, who had also noticed the problem, and they both stood without saying a word and went to investigate.

  They walked steadily in the dark and were surprised when. Only a few steps away, the torch flared brightly. For an instant they thought it was a new torch being lit but hadn’t seen anyone nearby. They blinked several times to adjust to the light and finally saw the guard on the other side of the torch facing away from them.

  “What the devil is this?” Che-Wing asked angrily as he approached. “Explain yourself,” he demanded grabbing the guard by the shoulder. He jumped back when, instead of turning to face him, the guard’s body collapsed into a pile of bones and hair. The leather armor had aged considerably with rusted buttons and frayed edges.

  “Damn, the Invisible Gods!” Che-Wing bellowed grabbing the torch and swinging it in a complete circle.

  Luckily Mekon was tall enough to see over the shadows that had formed around them. He darted for the nearest wagon and, despite the size difference, Che-Wing stayed close behind. He felt something dragging his foot and making it difficult to move so he swung the torch low and removed the grip.

  “SHADOWS!” Mekon shouted as they entered the light of the campfires.

  Without being ordered all of the hobgoblins rose and went to action like the highly trained and skilled force that they were.

  “Grab your torches and protect the wagons.” Che-Wing shouted.

  Shadows were what some people referred to as servants of the Invisible Gods. They were constantly changing shape and size and could easily hide in darkness. They fed on a person's life and, if they engulfed a victim completely, would cause the victim to age hundreds of years in a few moments. They were deadly, hungry, and if you couldn't hit them dead center with a blunt weapon the only other way to repel them was with light and fire.

  The hobgoblins were instantly on their feet and Mekon was impressed how, even against something as surprising and horrible as the shadows were, dignified and efficient their team was. Considering it was impossible to tell just how many shadows were hiding in the night he believed they just might survive.

  "Spread out," Che-Wing called. "Just keep swinging."

  The hobgoblin's grabbed all the torches they could and took up positions around the carriages. Those that couldn't get to a torch grabbed their weapons and started stabbing into the darkness to try and hold the shadows back. Those with swords were trading them with those who had extra hammers.

  Mekon thought briefly how lucky they were that, at night they kept the horses close to the wagons. There was a wide area for them to cover hand, keeping the horses close, made it a bit easier.

  They all heard a desperate cry is one of the hobgoblins was grabbed in the leg. The shadow was as tight as a tree root and quickly pulled his feet out from under him. He struck at the shadow's tendril but all he had was a sword and the sharp-edged weapons were harmless against these kinds of monsters.

  Three of the hobgoblins, one with a hammer and to was torches approached but the shadow reacted to fast and pulled him away into the darkness.

  Mekon desperately scanned the area for something to use. He carried a giant broadsword but even his massive strength was useless in this case. Only a blunt instrument would do damage.

  He heard a scuffle from the second carriage and looked up to see a hobgoblin on top of the vehicle jump up as a stream of shadow had curled his waist. He hit added several times, caught it twice, but couldn't weaken its grasp and it was pulling him towards the edge of the room. Mekon was about to go and try to rescue the stranded hobgoblin when another climbed quickly up the ladder. The second guard used his torch to burn the tendril in half. As the grip on the guard loosened the guard with the torch swung it in broad circles to keep the tendrils moving away.

  Mekon reached the trees and quickly scanned for a weapon. He sighed in relief when he found and pulled a 10-foot-long and 1-foot diameter branch from a dead tree with all of this is giant strength. He quickly snapped up some of the smaller branches so he could get a tight grip then ran back to the caravan. He ground to a halt by the campfire and thrust the fullest end of the branch into the flames. The smaller, dry, twigs on that and caught the fire quickly and he drew the branch back creating a massive torch.

  He saw that several hobgoblins had been grabbed by tendrils of darkness and were struggling to stay on their feet. He crossed the distance into massive steps and swung the burning branch just high enough to stay over the hobgoblin’s heads. Once over them he arched it down into the darkness, then swung it in a complete circle. He could tell by the resistance he had hit something in the center of the shadow. Its color changed to a dark gray and the hobgoblins were released.

  He stocked forward twisting the branch in soon realize he had entangled whatever it was that was in the center of the shadow. The dark gray was quickly lightning, and he knew that meant he was doing some damage. He lifted the branch above his head then slammed it down with one massive crunch into the ground. The shadow was quickly fading to a light mist. He felt the struggling and put all his weight into the branch. Soon the smoke was a pale white and harmless floating away into the night.

  He turned back to the three hobgoblins and noticed that one man had the distinct gray and white beard. He had been traveling with them long enough to know this one had been aged from his contact with the shadow.

  CHAPTER SIX: KNOW YOUR ENEMIES

  During the many quiet times, to keep away the boredom, Gallif thought of ways to escape. She had gone over every inch of the compartment she was a prisoner in. She had looked over every corner and checked every board. She had to admit it was an impressive job and there were no signs of escape.

  It occurred to her that the single candle they provided might be the opportunity for a way out. The wood used on the interior was solid, sturdy and thick. Even dry it would take a lot to make a healthy fire. The blanket and pillow would burn quickly and if she placed it by one of the vents in the ceiling it would definitely get their attention. She guessed they would immediately stop the train and open the doors to investigate. She guessed that surprising them with an attack would have a fifty percent chance of succeeding. That wasn’t good enough. She felt she’d do better if she just ran for the surrounding woods looking for cover. She knew her skills in the forest arts could easily keep her ahead of them and provided escape without fighting. It was the option she liked best.

  She had studied the process for bringing food into her and taking what was left out. The opening was too small for her to get out and there was no
advantage to hiding or grabbing anything. On the other hand, she had listened carefully enough to know how long it took to open the locks. There was a distinct clang to each key and she quickly was able to recognize which guard was coming and how long it would take for them to get in.

  She decided if she were going to escape, she would have to use the fire route. She knew, deep down, just how significant the word ‘if’ was in her planning. She didn’t want to escape.

  She had discovered that if, after a meal, she laid down at just the right place and time she could see out of the small hatch they used when they took the plate. She could never see much, a patch of grass, a reflection of sunlight, but it was enough for her natural connection with nature.

  The breakfast had been great, almost as good as Brilla and Forto had cooked at the school, and she lay on the bunk with her chin in her hands waiting for the plate to be taken. She heard the muffled jingling of keys outside and readied herself for a glance at nature. Quickly the empty tray was pulled out and she was robbed of a moment by the body of the guard being in the way. Frustrated, she batted the floor with her bare hands and ground her teeth together. She sat up, relaxed, and got comfortable as the wagon started moving again.

  “What does he want?” she asked aloud.

  She had caught a brief glimpse of the shiny armor that could only belong to Acrufix. She had seen under the mask when they were in the swamps with the Others and revealed his identity of Jayus. Jayus was now buried under the false legend of Acrufix, the same one who had let Luvin die.

  “What does he want?” she asked again.

  Was he worried that she would expose him? She spent some time pondering that idea but discarded it after a while. He was a legendary hero, she was a legendary traitor, and knew there would be no chance anyone believing her. She did consider that he would benefit from her death, especially if he were the executioner. As mystified as she was by his presence, she was not afraid of him.

  There was a slight lurch as the wagon started moving again. To help keep her ready for what was coming she did a regular routine of stretching and exercising. She did a hundred sit-ups, felt good, then did fifty more. She finally laid back and breathed deeply to relax her muscles. She had heard the battle outside last night and kept prepared for combat just in case someone made it past the defenses.

  A memory suddenly whispered to her and she let out a hearty laugh. By now she must really stink. She remembered the night in Atrexia when she and Tome, a special agent for the Giant Lords, had fought orcs, even a giant, and had spent time crawling to get from place to place. After several hours they had emerged with clues and mysteries that led them on to even greater adventures. As Snow had made clear, they also stunk. They had decided to get cleaned up and she had offered herself to him. He was the last male she had been with, only women had followed, and she remembered him warmly. With that came the memory of his death and her smiled vanished as she sat up.

  She ground her teeth as the memory of the original Snow also came back to her. Her best friend who had been slaughtered by an aquilus elf. The elves she had hated for so long. The same elves she wanted to save. Her emotions were in turmoil and the images of Snow’s pure white coat splattered with blood shook her hard. She bit her lip to try to calm herself and tried to stop the memory of Maura.

  Maura wasn’t the first woman she had been with but the one she had been emotionally attracted to. Maura was different, she was dangerous, she was sexy. She had loved the taste and feel of Maura next to her. She remembered the love in Maura’s eyes when they spoke, her thirst, wisdom and beauty.

  She remembered the darkness in Maura’s eyes when her life had been ended by Gallif’s own brother. How bad it felt to see one person she loved killed by another. Tears were streaming down her face as she thought how she had ended his life just as quickly.

  One was family and the other two were lovers and she had to watch them die. She also grieved for Luvin. He had depended on her for so much, she knew she was in his heart, yet she had been unable to save him from Jayus’s betrayal. She could also not deny the guilt she felt for never realizing just how important he was to her.

  “Why do I survive?” she asked aloud. That question had echoed through her thoughts many times. She doubted she would ever know exactly why she was blessed by the god Tebiet and saved so many times. She knew part of that was to expose the Third Minister of the Giant Lords for what he really was even if it meant the end of their regime. She would honor their memory by destroying him. She had no plans to kill him, but, when she was done, he may wish she had.

  ***

  It was the following evening that the next attack came. This time it did not begin in darkness but in an explosion of fiery light.

  Until sundown it had been an easy day’s ride. The weather had been sunny, but cool. There had been a refreshing breeze and it had reinvigorated the team from the night before. Despite that Mekon could tell they were still tired but would never let it show. He knew that even highly trained members of this militia would be worn from the fight with the wraiths. He found an opening where they could stay for the night and brought them to a halt early. They had the encampment in place just as the sun went behind the Rainbow Mountains.

  Mekon was getting updates from his officers when they suddenly looked up over his shoulder in bewilderment. He turned to follow their gaze and was also struck by the mysterious light. It was a string of orange and red stretching across the sky. It was going up for a moment, seemed to pause, then started downward in arch. Mekon was the first to realize it was coming in their directed and howled a warning that the entire party responded to. It was coming in their direction and they dove for cover.

  The flaming arrows rained down on them and night was turned into day. Mekon and his warriors stumbled for a few brief moments as their eyes adjusted to their surroundings but before they could there was a second round of arrows. These weren’t burning light the others but, still disoriented from the light changes, many were unable to protect themselves and almost a third of the guards were lost. Mekon could not count the number of screams and howls of pain.

  Mekon finally managed to get a clear sight and scanned the area completely. Two of the wagons in the convoy were on fire as were some of the trees and bushes in the area. The remaining militia guards were armed and ready for another attack. They kept checking the sky for more projectiles as they hurried around the campsite trying to put out what fires they could.

  Mekon ran to the carriage Gallif was in and was about to open it when a call from one of the militia leaders caught his attention. As he turned, he saw movement in the darkness outside the fire ring and drew his sword. They all knew they were outnumbered but they were not going down without a fight. No matter what they were facing the hobgoblins still had their duty to follow.

  More aquilus than any of them had ever seen at one time swept down the encampment. Despite going against a highly trained and powerful force there were so many of them that there was little they can do. Two hobgoblins joined forces at one point but soon had to change their tactics of from offense to defense. They tried to hold their ground but were backed between two of the burning wagons. Fighting a massive enemy and the intense heat wore at them and they were unable to withstand the assault.

  Mekon and Che-Wing circled around to the carriage where Gallif was held. With his mighty strength and sword, the giant was able to destroy numerous aquilus but, as the hobgoblins fell, he was quickly becoming the center of their attack. Being trained and learning quickly the militia members that were still alive joined forces near him. The larger they were the better they could fight off the enemy in all directions. Che-Wing was ordering them to take up a position to move towards the wagon when there was a loud crash. They turned to see Gallif’s transport overturned and several elves pounding on the side with axes. Mekon howled in anger but knew he was running out of options. He ordered the survivors to withdraw. He knew Che-Wing hated the command but was too professional of a soldier
to argue.

  They began to work their way out of the remains of the encampment. They had hoped the fact that they were withdrawing would lighten the attacks, but the elves continued their intensity until Mekon, and the others were outside the area. Even then the two remaining attackers did not cease their attacks and had to be cut down by the two remaining guards.

  Once they were no longer under threat, they reached the top of a hill and looked back at the carnage. The wagons were all now fully engulfed in flames and the heat was intense but the aquilus only pulled back a short distance. One elf was jumping up and down and holding a bag of something. Che-Wing quickly informed Mekon that the bag was nothing the party had brought with them. The elf tore open the bag and threw the contents in every direction. Like animals in a frenzy the rest of the attackers swarmed in the direction of the goods, even wrestling each other, for their prize.

  One of Mekon’s legs and an arm were bleeding, so they moved out of sight for cover. Mekon sat by an ancient oak tree while Che-Wing did his best to bandage the wounds. The others quickly formed a parameter around the giant to protect him.

  “Who could have been behind that attack?” Che-Wing asked. “Who wanted her dead that badly they were willing to take on you?”

  “Could it have been a random attack?” Mekon asked though he suspected the idea was wrong.

  “Too many of them,” Che-wing pointed out and they both nodded in agreement. “They travel in packs of ten, maybe twelve at a time. Never more than that.”

  “Yes, I thought of that, too,” Mekon said.

  “One other thing. That first attack with the flaming arrows hurt us a lot, at least a dozen deaths if not more. I’ve seen reports of hundreds of attacks from elves over the last fifteen years that I’ve been an officer. Sir, there was not one single time they used arrows.”