by Bill Mays
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Flade was in his element with the shadow-filled forest. Since coming to the new lands, he acclimated well to the vegetation. It was so unlike his homeland of desert sands. The ranger actually preferred it. Tracking proved a little more difficult, but there were many interesting animals to watch and this gave him more places to hide and lay in wait.
“Pixie tactics,” he mumbled to himself with a smirk. An old mentor of his taught him the term and the art.
The three goblin archers that pursued him were dead before they knew what hit them. A throwing knife took one down and the others fell to the agile man’s two blades. Flade was back in the shadows quietly awaiting his three new targets. The crunch of a foot on the dried leaves covering the ground nearly startled the crouching ranger out of his skin. It was the Kandairian soldier Mani assigned to accompany him. The man’s name was Hodge. Flade had almost forgotten about him. The man’s silence, especially in his chain-link armor, was quite impressive.
“I have been waiting for your signal,” the normally quiet man whispered, “I feared that I might have missed it?”
Flade brought one finger to his lips signaling silence. Hodge nodded his understanding and crouched as best he could nearby. Flade tried to convince Mani that the soldier would be more useful with one of the other groups. He tried to explain that he would perform better alone in this task. The stubborn knight would not hear of it.
“No one goes alone!” He had proclaimed. “Besides, who will lead us through the wilds when you fall?” The knight had smiled.
Flade appreciated the concern, but he really would have done better without the assistance. The sounds of footsteps headed their way sent the woodsman into an even deeper crouch. He was nearly invisible in the dark shadows. The soldier quietly drew his blade and readied his shield. Before the three Drackmoorian co-captains knew what was happening, they were under attack. Flade took the man trailing in the rear by surprise. It was the same man he had planted a knife in earlier. He placed two more gashes in his chest. The dark land soldier would not be getting back up this time. The Kandairian was right behind him with his own attack. His sword sliced a deep mark across the first man’s shoulder. With startled shouts of terror and pain, both living Drackmoorians pulled away to regroup.
“It’s an ambush!” The injured man cried out in disbelief.
“B-but we had the town u-under watch for two days, no one left the gates but that one scout? There were no soldiers among them?” The younger man stuttered. “I knew this was a bad idea! Damn Rugen, damn the Dark Lord, and damn this stupid war!”
Flade again twirled his blades through his fingers. “Oh, and excuse me gentlemen, did I say I was alone? Well, that has changed somewhat. Why don’t you two surrender now and we’ll put an end to this little raid, hmmmm?” The ranger flashed them a mischievous dimpled smile.
Flade was trying to bluff them into submission. The idea just came to him. With a Kandairian soldier at his side, they could be the rescue team sent to protect the town for all these men knew. He and the Kandairian soldier, Hodge, began advancing on their distraught adversaries.
“Do you really think we would challenge your army of mongrels alone?” The ranger began in an attempt to lower the enemy’s resolve. “The rest of the soldiers are surrounding this place as we speak.”
“Head back to the town!” The injured man shouted as he turned quickly and ran the direction they had come from. He was careful to give the dangerous men a wide berth. The younger soldier did not pause in the slightest as he too fled. It was clear that the youth was scared out of his wits.
“After them!” Flade shouted as he took up the chase. His Kandairian assistant was right behind him, moving as fast as he could in his armor.
The co-captains of the raiding party ran with reckless abandon through the dimly lit foliage. They were not concerned with anything but survival. Their best chance for that outcome was to reach their raiding forces and let the humanoids deal with these two. There was, however, another tool at their disposal. Quick thinking just might save the day, the injured Drackmoorian realized. As he ran, he pulled forth a slender chain from his neckline. There was a small instrument dangling at the bottom of its length. He fumbled with the silver trinket. His injury combined with the running and nerves made the process very difficult. Finally, he did manage to get the thing to his mouth securely. His young comrade passed him by during his struggles without as much as a pause. The wounded man sucked in a deep breath through his nose and blew as hard as he could under the circumstances. Nothing happened. Not a sound issued forth, not a spark or a flash, nothing. The result was devastating to the man, quite literally. Flade overtook him in his stride. The ranger dove and tackled the struggling man. The Drackmoorian tried to draw his sword. Two quick slices later, the soldier laid motionless just steps from the clearing leading to Timbre. Flade looked up from his position atop the dead soldier to see the other Drackmoorian entering the clearing in a mad dash. The frightened youth darted for the town gate.
“Stop the other one! He can’t let them know we’re here!” Flade shouted to his companion. The Drackmoorian youth overheard the woodsman’s warning and ran even harder for his life. The boy was terrified.
Hodge did as he was instructed and chased hard in pursuit of the remaining enemy. They both crossed into the small clearing before the town. The young dark land soldier was running as fast as he could with a speed born of fear. The gate to the town was already slightly open. Maybe ten goblins still struggled with gaining entrance.
“It’s an ambush! Kandairian soldiers are here!” The surviving Drackmoorian youth screamed as he ran for the gate.
He considered just dropping his weapon and surrendering, but he recalled the frequent words of his dead co-captain. This is war; there is no mercy in war. How he wished he were back on the farm with his family and far from this nightmare.
The boy’s warning did not go unnoticed. The Kandairian pursuing him knew he should stop. The smart thing to do was to turn and head back for cover. Hodge knew his identity and safety had been severely compromised. He knew also that this was not the plan they decided upon. He wanted to make a difference. His inability to stop this man let his captain and comrades down. At least he would have something to show for it. He was too slow to catch the dark soldier before he was through the widening gate. The large wooden portal opened from the inside and worse yet, at the hands of a particularly gruesome-looking margul with several piercings about his face. As the dark land youth reached the gateway, the margul growled something at him in its native tongue and then grabbed him and shoved him aside in disgust. The panting boy half walked and half crawled inside the town. Hodge skidded to a stop and raised his sword and shield in defiance. The big brute chuckled and then roared a string of unintelligible commands. Out of the town gate poured at least fifteen goblins. Added to the ten already outside, there was suddenly a throng of the little creatures headed his way. They all screamed and gibbered as their masses overtook the lone warrior. Hodge swung his sword, dropping the first two goblins to reach his position before the others swarmed over him.
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Dalia held her sword tight and bit her bottom lip in frustration. She knew there was nothing she could do from her current position. Arianna began to sob. She liked Hodge. He was a simple and kind-hearted man with a gentle touch, soft lips, and a pleasant persona. They watched from afar as a mass of goblins surged from the town to swarm over the lone soldier.
“No!” The priestess cried over and over. The distraught woman’s eyes widened as another realization hit her. She looked to Dalia fearfully. “Flade was with him,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
The gruff older Kandairian who leaned heavily on the tall woman’s shoulders cried out for his comrade to run. The man’s voice was drowned out by the swarm’s gleeful shrieking. It took both Arianna and Dalia to keep the injured man from attempting to make his way to his friend’s side. He was hyst
erical. Watching his fellow soldier of two years swallowed up by the screaming mass was too much for the weakened man. His inability to help made him crazy with rage. Even with one good leg, the man threatened to break free of the women. Finally, Dalia took the warrior’s head in both her hands and stared directly into his wild eyes. She said nothing aloud, but Tanford went limp in Arianna’s arms.
“What did you do to him?” The priestess sniffled in shock. Her gaze darted between the lady and the mass of gibbering goblins shredding Hodge’s corpse.
“He is … resting … that is all,” Dalia replied evenly. The priestess seemed on the verge of a breakdown. “You need to focus, Arianna. Now we must travel on and try to reach the far side of the town. We should also pray that Manifor and his team have fared better.”
There were tears behind the lady’s eyes but she held them in check. They all knew the plan was risky to start with. She just hoped the cost had not been too high. Arianna was not sure how to deal with it all so she just took Dalia’s advice and focused on the task at hand. The two women had their work cut out for them just dragging the sturdy soldier in his heavy armor along behind them.
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Flade threw three of his knives from tree cover into the huddled mass of goblins before he accepted the man’s fate. Why had he not stopped when the Drackmoorian boy reached the gate? Why had Hodge not made for the tree line when the warning sounded? Was it bravery or stupidity? Flade forced that question from his mind. They were often one and the same. The Kandairian did not go alone. He took several goblins with him on the way down, but what now, Flade wondered. A margul had opened the gate to the town. Was the settlement already lost? The ranger sat in the shadows feeling weak and helpless as the swarm slaughtered the man who was only there to help him. The crunching of leaves, as if something large moved his way, jolted him from his dismay. He crouched low to the ground, weapons ready. If this were where the enemy found him, then he would make it worth their while. He was prepared to fight. He wanted to fight. How could he leave that man to battle the swarm alone? Could he really have made a difference with those odds if he had entered the fray? The shame and confusion in those thoughts stayed foremost on his mind. That is when familiar faces came into view. Dalia and Arianna dragged one of the Kandairians along between them. It was Tanford, and the man looked to be unconscious.
“You two make enough noise to wake the dead,” the ranger stated as he stepped from the shadows. Arianna screamed and Dalia drew her blade. They both dropped the poor soldier in a heap on the ground.
“Calm down ladies. It’s just me,” though Flade tried to seem positive, his inner turmoil was plain to Dalia’s eyes at least. Arianna wrapped the slender man in a warm embrace and wet his shoulder with tears. “I didn’t expect such a welcome?”
“I thought you might be …,” the priestess sobbed.
“We saw what happened, from the tree line. He made a brave if foolish stand.” The lady made the statement for Flade’s benefit. She wanted him to realize that the man made the choice of his own accord. “This one would have joined him had we not restrained him.” She looked down on Tanford. Dalia flashed a glance Arianna’s way to see what the priestess’ reaction to the statement would be. The priestess said nothing to the contrary.
“What do we do now?” The tall, dazed woman asked. Arianna’s head was reeling from the recent events. Her voice was soft and quivering.
Flade and Dalia exchanged unsure glances. “Have you received any word from Manifor?” Dalia asked hopefully. Flade shook his head from side to side. “He should have beaten us back here,” the lady stated quietly as her gaze drifted downward.
“It’s my fault. There were more of them than I originally thought,” Flade choked out his frustration. “I should have done more scouting. I should have made certain.”
“Your estimation was good enough,” Dalia assured him. “We knew the odds were staggering.”
“EERRRAAHHHH!” The growl of a scream startled both ranger and lady.
To their surprise, it was Arianna who made the sound. The tall woman looked crazed. They both stared at the priestess, curiosity and concern etched on their faces. At first, they feared she was entering another of her strange vision trances.
“I’m so tired of loss and destruction! We’re all feeling responsible and sorry for ourselves, but the blame lies on the shoulders of that Dark Lord. It must come to an end. So many lives, innocent and beautiful lives, full of love and joy, and who knows what else, are being stolen before their time. Teevo, Hodge, Airos, Meadowstone, The Council’s Reverie, and now this town, all destroyed. Where will it stop?”
The priestess gazed across the clearing and past the bloody massacre, the goblins still wreaked on Hodge’s corpse. She looked past the partially open gateway where pieces of people and several dead goblins lay strewn about the ground. Arianna looked to the once quaint little town of Timbre, with its own simple, functional beauty. It was now wracked with siege and smoldering from recent fires. When she spoke again her voice was soft, almost a whisper, but her anger was intensely hot like a burning forge.
“War is horrid and uglier than the foulest beast. It is a festering wound on Pangias and a blow to everything Rashas stands for.” The determination in the woman’s big baby-blue eyes was almost frightening. “I am going to help them,” she whispered deeply as she strode forward into the clearing.
* * * * * * * * * *
Barst was attempting to help two of his injured men back from the fight. One man clung to each of his sturdy shoulders. The battle to close the gate proved to be hopeless. At least he had taken several of the smelly little creatures down first. The little mongrels would soon overrun them at this rate. He scanned the town. It was worse than he thought. A sizeable hole in the west wall was being widened by huge spiked clubs. Who knew how many would come pouring in that way. Several stray goblins scrambled through the streets wreaking havoc on the defenseless townsfolk. Most of the men strong enough to fight were injured or dead. Marguls continued to toss goblins over the eastern wall. Since the little mongrels were not distinguishing between their victims, the women and even children had taken up whatever semblance of a weapon they could find to defend themselves. More goblins poured through the front gate. The mayor was defeated. If anyone were going to survive this massacre, he or she would have to make use of the rafts. He just hoped it was not too late for that option. Barst handed off the two injured men to a couple of women working as relief. He spent the better part of his life building and shaping Timbre into the community it had become. He would miss her more than anyone could know. A sudden shout of instructions he could not quite make out drew his attention back to the front gate. In ran a single Drackmoorian soldier, a human soldier. The young man looked as if he fled for his life. After the unintelligible command from the margul, most of the goblins poured back out of the gate, leaving the town to engage some unknown foe. First, there was the flash of light and now this? Maybe Timbre was not lost just yet. Barst was afraid even to consider such a possibility. A tiny ember of hope burned inside the curly-haired man. Though his arms and legs ached and he bled from several wounds, Barst was not quite ready to give up. He hefted his heavy axe with a grunt and made his way once again for the front gate. Before he made it halfway there, the Drackmoorian soldier spotted him and drew his own weapon. The two men advanced on one another. Hatred burned in the mayor’s eyes. Fear and doubt danced in the boy’s dark orbs.
“How could you betray your own race this way? Look at the death and destruction your beasts have inflicted on these people!” Barst Spat.
“I-I don’t want to fight you, but you oppose Lord Meiron and that means you are part of this war,” the dark-clad soldier replied unconvincingly. It sounded like a well-rehearsed speech. “We had no choice but to besiege you. If you had just opened your gates and laid down your weapons …,” the frightened youth began.
“Your goblins would have destroyed us sooner!” The mayor screamed.
>
The two men came face-to-face, the mature, bearded woodsman and the young, scruffy-cheeked soldier. There was clearly an uncertainty in the young man’s eyes. Barst almost pitied him. It reminded him that young men made dumb choices and often learned to regret them. Another loud commotion drew both of their attentions back to the main gate. The margul let out a terrified scream as he raced through the gate and away into the forest. His boisterous cry was accented by many, many smaller ones. Three screaming goblins actually ran flailing into the town through the now wide-open portal, but the rest fled into the protection of the surrounding trees.
“What in the name of the dark lands?” The Drackmoorian soldier gasped.
“Reinforcements would be my guess,” Barst chuckled.
Into town stalked a tall, beautiful woman unlike any either man had ever seen. Close behind her came another smaller woman in a white gown and a slender man working together to support a second man who looked to be a Kandairian soldier. They quickly closed the gate and barred it behind them. Barst was a little disappointed to see so few comprise his reinforcements, but these few had secured the gate and cleared a sizeable force from their doorway. The mayor returned his focus to the young man trembling before him.
“It looks like your troops have fled. Do you really want to challenge me, boy?” The large man bluffed.
He knew this kid would probably tear him apart right now, but he played to his instincts. The Drackmoorian looked from the man with the big bloody axe to the gate now closed and cleared of all support. Were the goblin-kin ever really his support, though? He felt no connection with the army and definitely no connection with these savage goblins. There were still plenty of his troops outside the wall on both the eastern and western sides from the sound of it. Only a few stray goblins were near him and those few were occupied. All that the boy wanted to do was run away and to forget about this horrible war. He wanted to forget that he was ever involved. An arrow struck the ground at the young man’s feet as he debated his limited options. There was a young girl near his age in the watchtower with her bow aimed for him. Why was he even here, he wondered. He was a farmer, not a soldier.