by Bill Mays
“One more word and I’ll throw you to the goblins myself! If they aren’t with us, they’re against us! That’s the way war works! That goes for you too, boy!” The man dropped a hand to his sword hilt for emphasis.
A silver knife embedded itself in the overconfident soldier’s chest, taking him from his feet in a flash. A second knife took one of the goblin archers in the back of the head. The little creature had been in the process of lighting another arrow in a small fire. He fell, face first into that fire with a scream.
“I guess this would mean that I’m against you,” Flade smirked as he stepped from the thick shadow of the woods. The ranger quickly drew his knife in one hand and dagger in the other. “You hide at the rear while your mongrel lackeys do your dirty work. Did your Dark Lord teach you that? Well, I didn’t want you to feel left out of the fight.” The agile man began twirling his blades through his fingers as he dodged back into the shadow-filled tree cover. “Come Drackmoorian dogs; see if you can’t handle but one simple woodsman.” Flade flashed a smile and a wink as he disappeared back into the shadows.
The injured soldier pulled the knife from his chest with a pained curse as his two cohorts helped him to his feet. The remaining three goblin archers dropped their bows and took up their blades as they raced screaming into the brush after the offending human.
“No! Wait!” The injured dark land soldier shouted after them. “You have a job to do here!” The goblins paid him no attention. “Damn little disobedient runts,” he cursed as he watched them disappear into the foliage.
“What now?” The not-so-enthusiastic young soldier questioned. He did his best to conceal a grin at the boisterous man’s pain. As far as he was concerned, the man got what he deserved. These people were only fighting for their homes and families.
“Go after that man!” The injured co-captain ordered. “None are to escape, Rugen’s orders.” The three soldiers reluctantly pursued the ranger and the goblins into the trees.
* * * * * * * * * *
Barst, too, saw the bright flash of light to the east of town. It was not a good sign. There had never been any mages among them. Those types were mistrusted by most simple, honest folk. The only priest in town moved on years ago. Not many were religious in the logging community, either. Magic did not come from Timbre. The minor distraction did afford him a free shot at the big ugly margul. The mayor took it without hesitation. He swung his axe as if it were the final chop on a large tree trunk. The heavy blade bit deeply into the hairy brute’s shoulder. The margul roared in rage and pain as he pulled away from the man with the big axe. The large creature was quite agile for its size. It nearly took his axe with it, but Barst held on tightly. An arrow then struck the big creature’s leg. Barst turned to see little Jillian Pandle, tears streaking her cheeks. She had scaled the watchtower and was using her position to the best advantage.
“Good girl,” he mumbled. The seriously injured margul pulled back to nurse his wounds. Barst took the opportunity to rush for the gate. “Close that gate!” He shouted again.
His men were being swarmed by the goblins pouring forth. That gate had to close. He swatted with all his strength chopping down a goblin in his path to the large wooden door. There had been seven strong men at the gates earlier. Now there were only four. The four townsmen battled furiously to keep the partially open portal from swinging any wider, but the little creatures were all over them. One man went down, then another. Their cries for help were short-lived. At least twenty goblins had poured through the front gate now.
“Gods help us!” Barst cried out again as he dove into the fray, swinging for all he was worth.
* * * * * * * * * *
On the west side of town, the three marguls stopped tossing goblins over the wall. They switched to beating a hole in the barrier. All three took turns battering one spot with their spiked clubs. It was working. The wood splintered under their heavy attacks. They had thrown enough goblins over to engage the annoying bowmen so the arrow fire ceased. Now, they were free to do their thing. The death cries of their three archers drew their attention to the tree line behind them. There stood two humans carrying swords and wearing armor. It was armor that matched that of the soldiers they had slain at both Kandairian outposts. The giant goblins shouted commands. They were ordering their remaining goblin underlings after the pair of bold humans. Nearly thirty of the small humanoids began to swarm into the tree line after the fleeing soldiers. Their chattering screams echoed loudly. The first two goblins to enter the tree line were cut down by Mani’s precise sword thrusts. The third fell at the young Kandairian soldier, Tobin’s, hands.
“Good work!” The knight complemented his youngest soldier. The youth’s face was white with fear. The battle at the Council’s Reverie was his first real fight. This was only his third battle.
When the remaining mob of creatures poured in behind them, Mani cursed under his breath. There were not supposed to be this many at once. He recalled Flade’s instructions of hit and run. Pixie tactics he had called it. Well, knights did not fight that way, and so it had not gone quite as planned.
“Men, engage the enemy!” The knight shouted as he tore into the goblin ranks.
His two decoy soldiers, Rolf and Cuthbert, stopped their flight immediately and turned to attack their pursuers. “For Kandair!” Their shouts rang out over the goblin screams. The three Kandairian men, plus their captain, fought with everything they had. Outnumbered six to one, there was no time for hesitation.
* * * * * * * * * *
Ten goblins abandoned the siege of the town to investigate the flash of light, led by one very ugly red-haired margul. The creatures moved easily through the underbrush. It was getting darker and their eyes adjusted well. One goblin spotted the faint pink glow ahead in the trees and shouted his findings to the others as he raced to its location. There was little order to the mongrel troop’s march. They were all highly excitable with the prospect of looting an entire human town. The margul was swift and took to the lead. The goblins fell in about him weaving through the trees. One, two, and then three of the slower moving goblins fell victim to the woods around them. Their absence went unnoticed in the rush. The margul arrived at the source of the glowing light. Something was hanging in the tree. The tall margul went to retrieve the item while his seven remaining goblins gathered around in curiosity. It was some sort of foot covering, a human sandal, enchanted with a magical glow. As the brute reached for the item hanging in the tree the sandal burst into a blinding brilliance.
“Not so fast. I have to wear that again. I don’t want your filthy paws touching it,” Arianna cooed from her nearby hiding place. She dreaded the thought of how the repulsive hairy beast must smell.
The result of the flash was total chaos. The goblins all shrieked out and stumbled around clutching their eyes. The margul was more lucid and cupped one hand to his face while holding his heavy club at the ready in his other hand. He was listening for any sign of his attacker.
“That’s our signal,” Dalia whispered to the older soldier at her side.
The two were on the fringes of the goblin party’s path, picking off any they could without revealing themselves. The older man charged through the trees before she finished her statement. The soldier had his sights set on the leader. He sliced down two blinded goblins that wandered into his way. He would not stop until he reached the margul. Dalia came behind him quickly dealing with any of the little humanoids who had not already fled into the bushes. Her polished sword ran thick with blood before she paused to examine the situation.
One of the little creatures stumbled randomly into Arianna’s face. The priestess was moving to retrieve her sandal. In hindsight, it probably was not the best choice for a distraction, but she was in a hurry. The ground was full of sharp sticks and other unseen things that poked the bottom of her bare foot. With a scream of surprise, she pulled forth her slim cudgel and swatted the goblin across the face. The sound of her scream alerted the little humanoid to her loc
ation. He took the glancing blow and quickly scurried on hands and knees to grab hold of the woman’s bare leg. Arianna screamed again as she tried to shake him loose. The goblin was tenacious. His long fingernails dug into her skin, drawing forth blood. The little thing began to growl as it moved to bite her calf. The priestess drew back and pounded the goblin’s head repeatedly with her slim club. She threw all of her weight into the attack until it stopped moving. She then shook the dead thing off of her with a shudder of disgust.
“Arianna, behind you!” The shout came from Dalia.
The lady was still too far away to help. The priestess did not bother to question the warning. Instead, she spun about in time to see a rather large and angry red-mane margul bearing down on her. The Rashan priestess was no warrior and the sight of the huge beast rushing at her was quite terrifying. Blind or not, that spiked club was deadly. The woman screamed again as she tripped over the dead goblin at her feet. Arianna rolled to the side just in time to avoid the club that came crashing down. The priestess cried out in fear as she scrambled to stand. A voice came to her mind.
“Be silent, he follows your sounds,” it whispered in her head.
The priestess did not have the luxury of time to debate the advice. She sucked in a deep breath throwing one hand over her mouth and took a couple of quick and careful steps away. She did her best to remain quiet. Something particularly sharp stuck in between her first two toes on her bare foot. She bit back the urge to yelp and closed her eyes as the club swung by her, missing her face by mere inches. There came another cry that stole the big brute’s attention.
“For Kandair!” Tanford shouted as he sank his blade into the big creature’s back.
The margul was quick and reacted immediately with a spinning attack. The large spiked club lifted the gruff soldier from his feet landing him on his back some six feet away.
“Damn overgrown goblin!” He cursed as he moved to stand. He preferred to fight humans, not unpredictable beasts.
Lucky for Tanford, his armor absorbed much of the impact. The injured and blinded margul did not hold back. It dove to attack the fallen man like a savage animal. The creature began batting the area where he heard the soldier land with fast and furious blows. Dalia ran to join the battle. Tanford could not regain his footing. Every time he was almost up, the spiked club smashed him to the ground. He screamed out in pain as his leg crunched under a solid hit. Arianna backed against a tree. Tears born of fear trickled down her smooth cheeks. She stood silently watching as the creature beat the man down. It pounded his crushed leg over and over again. The priestess began to regret her suggestion of aiding the town. What was she thinking? She was volunteering these men’s lives away. As a worshipper of Rashas, her duties were in love and beauty. Combat was nowhere near her expertise. Her sisters would frown on such activities. She looked on in horror with both hands clasped over her mouth as the soldier crumpled under the creature’s vicious assault. A blur of white passed her by as Dalia leapt to the man’s defense. She slashed the large monster across the back of the knee dropping it to the ground.
“Get out of there!” The lady cried out to the bloody soldier. Tanford did not do anything save clutch his smashed leg and groan. “Arianna, get him to safety!” Dalia shouted as she danced out of the spiked club’s reach.
The lady slashed the exposed weapon arm of the big hairy monster. It did not cry out but instead called her something in its native language. She was pretty sure she could guess the gist of its comment. Arianna sucked in a deep breath for courage and used one hand to brush away the sharp rock sticking between her toes. Without too much thought, the tall woman ran to the fallen soldier’s aid. The fight was still too close to deal with him where he lay, so she used her modest strength to drag him from the combat. A quick glance back assured her that Dalia was holding her own against the creature. The soldier clutched his smashed leg tightly all the while groaning in pain.
“Shhhh…,” the priestess purred in an effort to quiet him, “We don’t want that thing to know where we are now; do we?” She was trying hard to seem calm.
Tanford, though pretty banged up, was not in any frame of mind to care. “My leg,” he coughed out through gritted teeth. “It hurts!”
Arianna placed one hand on the limb delicately. He screamed out in agony. She did not blame him. His leg felt like a bag of wet cornmeal. The bones were nearly crushed. One more glance reassured her that the fight would not soon come to them. Arianna began a series of hushed moaning prayers. She sounded as if she were entering an act of pure ecstasy. As her prayers advanced, a rosy glow took over her fingertips. A warm tingling sensation began to flow into the man’s pulp of a leg. His groaning stopped as her healing powers filtered through his injured body. The tingle, not unlike a chill yet warm, found its way to every wound he had sustained. The smaller gashes, like the one over his eye, sealed up as if they were never there. His leg however would be useless for some time to come. She emptied all of her healing prayers into the man, but there was a limit to her skills.
“There,” the priestess panted, “Was it good for you?” With pouted lips, she cast a glance the soldier’s way.
“Much better,” the gruff man responded, “Thanks.” The margul's cry of pain sent the soldier into an attempt at reentering the fray. It was no use. His leg would not support him. “Finish the job woman! I need to stand!” He pleaded with Arianna.
“I’m sorry; there is nothing more I can do for you. The rest is beyond my power.”
“What?” The soldier grumbled in a mixture of fear and anger. “How am I going to fight on one leg?”
The priestess had no response. The truth was his fighting days might be over. His bones would need to mend on their own and the man was not exactly in his prime anymore.
“Well? Answer me!” The man was still struggling to rise on one leg.
“You can relax for now,” Dalia stepped from the brush. The lady was wiping her sword clean on a mangled piece of cloth the margul had been using for clothing. “The little ones have fled, and their leader is no more.”
“And I thought I’d be looking after you two,” the soldier half-chuckled, half-sighed. “Now what are we going to do?”
Dalia could sense the man’s shame. She felt pity for him. “I think we’ve caused enough of a distraction. I suggest we double back and see how the others are faring.”
“Good idea,” the man agreed.
“Yes,” Arianna mumbled as she scanned the trees around her, “That’s a good idea. I think I’ve seen enough violence for tonight.”
“Don’t go letting your guard down, lass. I’ll need you to be my support until I get this thing fixed.” The man patted his busted leg gently.
“Maybe you could take a look at him?” Arianna deferred to Dalia. “I don’t fully understand your gifts. This is the best I could do.”
Dalia seemed a little nervous with mention of her skills in front of the man, but she nodded quickly enough and moved to see if there was anything she could do to help.
* * * * * * * * * *
Manifor Stormblade was a born warrior, and more so, a Knight of Kandair; but he was first and foremost a passionate man. He fought strongly for his beliefs. He worked hard to attain his position as a knight and even harder to rise to royal guardsman of the king himself. His swordsmanship technique was impressive if a bit direct, and it got the job done. The seasoned warrior laid into the goblin masses with a focused poise. Even with the impossible odds, he was tearing through their ranks one goblin at a time. His heavy armor absorbed the occasional blade that cut through his defenses. A slash of his sword and a smash of his shield sent the small humanoids to whatever hell they earned in life.
“Commander!” The shout rang out from one of his two decoy soldiers, Cuthbert.
Mani spared a look only to find the man was directing his attention to the young soldier at the knight’s side. The lad was not as experienced as the others were. Secretly, that had been Mani’s motive for keeping To
bin close by. In the heat of battle, he lost track of the youth. Now, he could see the man sinking into the sea of goblins. To his credit, Tobin did not cry out and he did not give in. He did, however, fall to the ground. With a roar of rage, the stocky Kandairian knight plowed into the goblin swarm bent on reaching his fallen man. The careless tactic gained him a fair share of unnecessary free blows from the wild throng of mongrels. His other two soldiers were not in the best of situations, but they were holding their ground. They needed some sort of formation to turn the tides.
“Men, work your way to the boy!” Mani shouted above the goblin screeches.
The two soldiers fought back to back and used this arrangement to move towards the commanded destination. More than half of their numbers were cut down yet still the goblins fought on. Such determination was unusual for the little creatures. Evidently, they were more afraid of the marguls than they were of anything else. Mani kept hoping their fearful instincts would kick in and they would turn tail and run. He chose not to put stock in that hope. Instead, he focused on something he could trust, his blade. In a matter of moments, they converged on their fallen comrade. Tobin lay still in a pool of his own blood. There was no time to check the youth’s condition. The three men formed a triangle around the fallen man and defended him as if he were the king himself.
“None get through us,” Mani grumbled aloud.
“Yes sir!” His two soldiers chimed in response.
Now the knight commander was wondering if his decision to send both priestesses away was such a good idea. He judged their course to be the least populated area and thus the safest. One of his best warriors went with them as well. There was no time to worry about “should haves.” He just hoped the others were faring better than he was at the moment.