by Jeff Inlo
Ryson and Holli looked to each other and said the name in unison.
"Prilgrat."
"Is that the leader's name?" Rachael asked.
"It's the only possibility," Ryson revealed. "He's the regional steward in Ashlan."
"Well, he's in for a surprise. He made a deal with the twins. The twins promised to keep the vermin in check, but they will not honor that bargain. The goblins will be let loose on the city. As for the twins, they made a promise to each other to divide the valleys between them and bring destruction, disease, and death to all of the lowlands."
"But won't that mean the dwarves will get their way?" Ryson questioned.
"The dwarves do not wish to see the Great Valleys withered and dying. They just wished to be rid of the humans."
"Do you know how it ends?" Holli asked, hoping that some guidance could be found.
"To a degree. 'Two of white greet the pale twins and reverse the tide. The doors are open and shut and the vermin removed. Before the sun rises again on the lowlands, the final bargain is destroyed and the lowlands shall be raised up once more.' That's another quote. We were told it means that two wizards casting white magic would defeat the twins' plan. The vermin plague being removed means the goblins will be beaten. When the prophecy states the final bargain will be destroyed, it is telling us that the twins will not get their wish and that the valleys will be spared."
Ryson looked to Holli once more.
"Two wizards casting white magic, do you think that would be Enin and Jure?"
"It is possible," Holli noted, but remained cautious, "While it is rare, others cast in white as well. We should not try to force the answer. I did that before, and I will not make the same mistake." The elf then addressed the reader again. "Can you tell us who the wizards might be?"
"I'm sorry, but I can't. It's like the twins. The prophecies and their interpretations don't include every little detail. We don't know exactly how things will play out, but we know what to expect, and we have faith in the ultimate outcome. We simply know that the evil twins will be defeated."
"I guess it works like the Sword of Decree," Ryson offered. "I might not get a full picture, but I know what to do."
"And the sword directed you to come here?"
"That's right."
"The problem is that we have come across nothing that might be twins," Holli added.
"You will," Rachael stated confidently.
"Is there anything else you can tell us?"
"I've told you the whole prophecy as I know it. What is it you're looking for?"
"I still do not understand Prilgrat's motivation," Holli admitted. "I do not wish to cast doubt on the Book of Godson. Many things you have mentioned have come to pass. The dwarves have made a bargain with the goblins. A separatist dwarf who escaped from Dunop has usurped power in the dwarf city of Sterling."
"He would be the brother 'once from the west' in the first part of the prophecy I eluded to," Rachael acknowledged.
"I would agree. The goblins have also made a deal with several town leaders across the valleys. They have purchased their aid by utilizing gems and metals from dwarf mines. We have seen the goblins in Ashlan, and one of their leaders stands by the regional steward in close discussions. That all fits together, but why would Prilgrat make any bargain with goblins that will ultimately cause him to lose power?"
"Does it matter?" Ryson interjected. He wasn't sure the prophecies were necessarily an exact narrative of what had happened or what remained to occur-or even if they were to be fully accepted-but he believed that Rachael helped them to understand what was going on in the valleys. He started to believe that was why the Sword of Decree led him to the church. He announced as much.
"We have a better idea of what's happening, maybe why it's happening isn't as important."
"Why things happen are always important," Holli noted. "Motivation leads to understanding."
"I agree," Rachael replied. "It's not just what you do, it's why you do it." The reader then focused on Holli. "What is it that's really bothering you about this?"
"Prilgrat is risking the lives of every human across the Great Valleys. He has to see this. His actions, however, do not reconcile with the underlying facts. He has already reached the lofty position of regional steward. He rules over the very humans he puts in danger. Wealth alone would be a small gain. He would be better served to safeguard his current status."
"Men seeking additional power make underhanded deals every day. Is it possible you are simply overlooking the obvious?"
"I do not believe so. I have seen Prilgrat and he is not one who would make a short sighted bargain. There would have to be something of great value offered for him to risk all the power he already has. The goblins simply do not have anything he needs."
"The prophecy states that he makes a deal with the twins."
"But we do not know who these twins are."
"I take it on faith that the twins are evil and have offered Prilgrat exactly what he wants. The words of Godson are clear-do not embrace evil-but it is always the same through history. Our leaders let us down. They say they mean well, but they often only mean well for themselves. There are very few you can depend upon, and even those will eventually fail in some way. No one here is perfect."
"There are times we all have to depend on someone," Ryson countered. "I mean, the members of this church count on you, just as they once counted on Matthew."
"I will not speak of Matthew, but I am not ashamed to admit I am far from perfect. As for depending on others, you can certainly have faith in your friends, but if you place your ultimate faith in something other than Godson to save you, you will be disappointed."
Holli wished to refocus the discussion on the prophecy and the valleys.
"I do not wish to show disrespect to your faith, but that does not help me with my problem."
"I think it does. You believe that leaders will act in the best interest of their people."
"No, believe me, I do not. I have seen first hand how leaders will disregard those they are supposed to serve."
"I didn't finish. When they don't, you believe they are acting in their own best interest. Is that not true?"
"Yes, it is," Holli allowed.
"Your error is not here, but in defining what would be Prilgrat's best interest. A corrupt individual will have corrupt interests. If you do not understand what he might want, perhaps it is a credit to your values, not his."
"Then, I will have to continue my search for the answer."
"We all do what we must."
"Thank you," Holli said. "You have sharpened my focus."
"It is Godson's will."
With that said, Ryson could not help but raise a question of his own.
"Don't take this the wrong way, but I need to ask. Why didn't you tell Connel's leaders of this prophecy when the refugees started arriving? Why didn't you tell Enin? Don't you think he would have wanted to stop this before it got this far?"
"Wouldn't that be very presumptuous of me?" Rachael responded. "In a way, I would be interfering in Godson's plans."
"If that's true, aren't you interfering now?"
"You came to me."
"That's kind of defining a pretty narrow border, isn't it?" Ryson wondered.
"Not at all. Look at it this way. What would happen if I went to some town leader that thinks everything we believe in is nothing but superstitious nonsense? Would he listen? Would anyone in power listen? No. If anything, they would be convinced that nothing of the sort was happening and might ignore the obvious just to prove me wrong."
"Enin would have listened," Ryson countered.
"And you believe that would have changed the situation, but I don't feel the same way. I believe in the prophecies. I can't stop them, you can't stop them, and Enin can't stop them, either."
Rachael knew she wasn't reaching Ryson. His dubious expression gave him away. She knew he wasn't really trying to find fault with her, but he was a delver. He act
ively sought the answers to all mysteries, while she placed her faith in a power that was beyond mystery. She offered one last explanation.
"It's not easy to have faith. I have to accept things I can't see or touch. I have to live in a land that seems to test that faith nearly every day. The Book I'm supposed to rely on often seems like one big puzzle. I try to fit all the pieces together, but I can't. I have to realize that it was never meant for me to grasp every little detail. There are certain things that are just beyond me."
"But this wasn't really beyond you. You were told what was going to happen."
"Do you fully believe in the prophecies?"
Ryson frowned. He didn't wish to cast doubt on Rachael's faith, but he had to speak the truth.
"I don't believe the future is already determined for us."
Rachael smiled. She appreciated the delver's honesty. She offered her understanding with the same sincerity.
"The prophecies don't mean we are free from choice. They just mean there are things we have to face."
"I've never been sure about that."
"And yet you think I should have spoken to Enin about the prophecies."
"You have a point," the delver admitted. "Maybe this stuff is just over my head."
"You have company. Even with the prophesies clearly interpreted for me, it doesn't help me figure out what I should do. Maybe I should have alerted people to what I knew sooner. It certainly sounds rational. As a member of this church, I should be concerned with helping others. At the same time, I have to honor a higher principle. I can't act as if I'm above the prophecies. I shouldn't try to stop them. Who am I to interfere? Maybe in some way I am interfering now, but then again, I believe Godson sent you here. To some degree, I think it's about control. I can't start acting like I know what's best. I have to leave that to Godson. I look for guidance and I hope I make the right decision. It's all I can do."
"I'm not sure I can agree with that," Ryson admitted, wishing not to focus on whether or not a prophecy was bound to happen, but rather on the most honorable course of action.
It was Holli who responded.
"You do not have to agree," the elf said firmly. "It is what she believes, and all you should do is respect it." Holli then turned to Rachael. "You have helped me a great deal. What you said is true, but I believe it goes beyond the book of your faith. Life is a series of puzzles and not all the pieces fit together, at least not for one individual. I have already learned that forcing them together is a mistake. I now realize that some pieces may not be part of the puzzle, or perhaps I was never intended to put them in their proper place. That had been my intention, but I must let it go. You have helped confirmed what I do know, and it is enough. Thank you."
"We're done here?" Ryson asked, slightly bewildered at Holli's intentions.
"Yes. We will explain everything we know to Enin, and though there remains a few holes, we know enough to act."
Chapter 23
The goblins stormed out of the warehouse in Huntston in such fury that the building collapsed before the entire horde had exited. Several were wounded, even killed in the crushing fall of debris, but their numbers were so great, the casualties were completely inconsequential. The dust cloud only served to add confusion to those that viewed the initial outburst.
The soldiers guarding Huntston's western bridge were the first to see the angry wave, and they were the first to fall. None of them would escape. They never expected such aggression and brutality. Previously, the goblins moved in and out of the town in small bands with total disregard to the soldiers. The guards never faced any hostilities beyond a grunt, a snarl, or some insult they could not comprehend, but that was before the order was given.
The grotesque monsters grouped into an enormous mob and rushed to the attack. They tore apart the guards in an instant. They flung the pieces of human corpses into the water as they cleared the bridge of all obstructions to ensure an obvious path that led across the river to the west. They could attack and destroy to their hearts content, but they were given one absolute measure of control they were forced to obey. The humans that were allowed to escape were to be forced toward the central plains.
After securing the bridge, the horde broke from it, left it unguarded. The mass of despicable creatures also split in half. One section headed north and the other south. Each mob stuck close to the edge of the river until they reached the northern and southern borders of the town. With the entire western boundary covered, save for the opening at the bridge, the goblins then moved to encircle Huntston.
It was late in the afternoon, most of the citizens were returning from work or having dinner. They heard the calamitous ruckus, but they had been conditioned to ignore such activity. Even as they sensed a suffocating doom hanging over their homes, they learned to shun any and all signs of commotion. They had become complacent. They surrendered their concerns to a wave of growing apathy. It was not for them to judge the wisdom of those entrusted to run the town, even when it came to permitting goblins a free hand. The residents of Huntston found unease in the changes, but they rationalized the absurdities as part of life in a world filled with magic. Even as the goblins moved to surround them with obvious malice, they kept their narrow focus on their individual concerns.
As long as there was order, who were they to argue? Previously, they were given no reason to complain. Any conflicts in the past had been quickly labeled misunderstandings. Yes, there was order, but the people of Huntston could not grasp that order was not the ultimate objective. Goblins did not submit to humans out of respect for peace and tranquility. It was the means to a different end, and that end was upon Huntston.
Once the goblins completely surrounded the town between the Twin Rivers, they moved inward. They were free from the bonds of controlling their natural tendencies. They did not have to maintain any semblance of regard for law an order. It was just the opposite. Tumultuous aggression and unbridled hatred became the desired message, and the monsters embraced those emotions with maniacal glee. They destroyed homes, wrecked shops, overturned wagons, and killed many.
They set small fires, enough to create havoc, but not so the entire town would burn to the ground. They chose isolated buildings and shacks where the flames would not spread, but the smoke could be seen and smelled. In but a few moments after the assault began, the town was filled with shrieks and cries as smoke swirled overhead in nearly every corner of Huntston.
Every horror the despicable creatures committed brought the turmoil to a higher level. Every deplorable action created fear and panic. The goblins did not want to simply overrun the humans, they wanted to break through the apathy of the townspeople. The plan they followed involved creating so much immediate terror that every human would feel the urgency to flee, and most did.
The residents of Huntston had contained their apprehensions for a very long time. They had buried them deep, but they had never exorcised their fears. Season after season, they focused on tolerating the circumstances they could not understand. They never questioned the true intentions of the goblins or the authorities that allowed for such unstable conditions. They simply trudged through life, suppressing their misgivings, but they never discarded them. When the true source of their reservations came to absolute fruition in one disastrous heave of goblin mayhem, their fears erupted with the same devastating upheaval.
Order decayed in an instant. The entire populace throbbed with panic. Goblins moved in from every direction and humans raced about without rationale or conviction. Fire, destruction, death… it all came to pass in the blink of an eye.
The soldiers that had policed Huntston never had a chance. The goblins knew the location of each and every jail, barracks, and guard shack. They struck with such brutal swiftness that only the structures made of stone survived the first impact. Any wooden guardhouse simply crumbled into dust from the violent assaults.
Some people chose to fight, others had no choice. The goblins were instructed to allow a great number to flee, but
casualties were not only expected, they were encouraged. When humans were cornered and escape not a credible possibility, the goblins found no reason to show restraint. Skirmishes were quick and bloody with the townspeople ill-equipped and unprepared for the savagery they faced.
Those residents that were allowed to escape were pushed west. The citizens of Huntston raced across the bridge and into the surrounding farmlands, but they would never be allowed to rest. More goblins waited for them in farmhouses and neighboring towns. The moment a crowd of fleeing humans was spotted, angry and hateful goblins always forced them westward, prodded them to the very edge of the Great Valleys, pushed them to leave and never return.
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"The dwarves have instructed the goblins to begin their assault. The little creatures are more than happy to oblige, and I am spreading the word across the region. They are attacking humans almost simultaneously across the valleys. They are already dispensing retribution for pent up frustrations and casting aside their tolerance for the humans in a most unpleasant fashion. The goblins should make quick work of what they have to do. Your lands are about to change drastically."
Prilgrat grew accustomed to the voice in his head. The words were icy in tone, but the steward always felt a warm sensation deep in his bowels whenever the fiend spoke to him telepathically. It wasn't necessarily a pleasant feeling, not like eating a warm bowl of soup, but it didn't make him sick, either. It was kind of like drinking lukewarm water after fasting for several days.
Still, he was happier to converse with the creature in that manner as opposed to speaking with it in person. Despite communicating over magical waves that the regional steward did not understand, he could cope with the minor anxiety. The magic made the steward uncomfortable, but not as uncomfortable as standing in the overwhelming presence of a being capable of great devastation. Prilgrat felt weak and inconsequential whenever he directly addressed the fiend, not something he enjoyed.