by Peter Last
“You think that you’re going to be able to hold up for the rest of this battle?” Josiah asked.
“Yes sir, I’ll hold up until we defeat these dwarves or until I die,” Marcus said. “Either way, I’m not going to let down my fellow soldiers because of my wound.”
“Good man,” Josiah said as he rose to his full height. He turned to continue down the line, but was confronted by one of his messengers sprinting toward him from the river. As the boy got closer, he saw that it was Jonathan.
“Sir, the dwarves are getting ready for their second attack!” Jonathan said breathlessly.
“Already?” Josiah said in surprise. “I would have thought they would lick their wounds for longer than that. Well, our army is already in position, so let them come. I have new orders for you to carry. First, have most of the infantry pull up to the ford where the enemy will have to pass between those two rocks. If we have any chance of holding them we will do it there. Second, have most of the archers gather near the river. The boulder field is a good defense, but that will be our last stand. That is all.”
Jonathan saluted and was off to deliver the messages, leaving Josiah to make his way back to the ford. When he got there, confusion ruled his previously organized troops as they scrambled to form lines. Josiah pushed his way through the crowd and stood on a boulder.
“Silence!” he bellowed to his troops, but it had no effect on them.
“Silence!” he shouted again, even louder, and this time the soldiers closest to him quieted down.
“Line up with five men across this gap,” he said, gesturing to the two rocks by the ford. “The dwarves have to come through them, and if we can hold them here, we will take away the advantage of their numbers.”
The soldiers seemed to regain their composure and quickly moved into position until there were seven lines of five people. Josiah jumped off of his boulder and strode back to where the majority of the infantry was still in disarray. Grabbing a bugle from one of the soldiers, he blasted a loud, long note until all of the soldiers had quieted down. When he had their attention, he handed the bugle back and turned to address the soldiers.
“This behavior is ridiculous,” he began. “You were trained to carry on war in an orderly and organized fashion—not in the state of hysteria that has ruled until now. I know that many of us may die today, but if we are to have any chance of defeating the dwarves and walking away from here alive, it will be because we fight in a calm and orderly fashion. Now, I want you to form organized ranks behind the soldiers that are already in position. If any of them fall or drop back to rest, it is your job to step up and take their place. Do you understand?”
Josiah took the silence as an affirmative reply, and he turned and trotted back to the front of the army. He climbed back onto the boulder that he had vacated only minutes before and watched as the soldiers formed ranks in a semi-orderly fashion. The archers were also finally arriving, so Josiah motioned for his messenger Benjamin to join him. The boy climbed onto the boulder with Josiah and waited for the message to be given.
“Tell the new archers to take position behind the infantry,” Josiah said. “Their commander is given full authority over when they will fire; however, tell him to have them conserve their arrows.”
Benjamin hopped down from the boulder to carry the message, and Josiah turned back to the dwarf army. The retreating soldiers had fallen to the back of the army to regroup, and a new breed of dwarves now faced Josiah’s army. Dwarf giants, the scourge of the dwarf army, now composed the front several lines. These soldiers were all around six feet tall, and they maintained the classic build of a dwarf. Their armor covered their entire bodies, with the exception of their joints, and gruesome helmets sat on their heads. In the way of weapons, each had a battle ax about as big as the two-handed axes that the regular soldiers used; however, the giants carried these weapons as though they were toys. They each also had a massive hand-and-a-half sword that was at least five feet long.
Josiah looked back at the ranks of his army and saw that many of them showed fear in the face of this new enemy. He couldn’t think of any encouraging words to say, so he leaped lightly down from the boulder and strode to the front line, where Jonathan was waiting for him. Jonathan had his shield strapped to his back and held on his arm another shield, this one painted pure black.
“This shield is a gift for you from the ogres,” Jonathan said when Josiah reached him. He extended the shield toward Josiah who took it carefully. The piece of armor was obviously made for an ogre and was a bit too large for him, but it would work well. Even its weight was well within the capacity of Josiah’s strength.
“Commander Looran sends it with his best wishes,” Jonathan continued. “He worried that it might be too heavy, but he hopes that you will take it into battle with you.”
“Indeed I will,” Josiah said and strapped the shield onto his left arm. A few adjustments were needed, but soon the shield fit almost as if it had been created for him.
“I also managed to find this to complete your armor,” Jonathan said and held out a helmet that Josiah had not seen before. Josiah took the headpiece and examined it. It was of orc workmanship and covered the entire face with only two eye slits. A row of small spikes ran from the top of the helmet down the back, but other than these, it was entirely unadorned. Josiah placed the helmet on his head, and though the fit was a little tight, he decided that it would work. The range of vision was much better than he had expected, and small holes on the side of the helmet allowed him to hear what was going on around him much better than a human helmet would have.
With his armor properly adjusted, Josiah took his place in the front line, and Jonathan stood next to him. Together they waited for the dwarves to make their charge, and as they watched, a black cloud rose from the rear of the army and arched through the sky toward them.
“Arrows!” someone shouted. “Shields up!”
The soldiers dropped to their knees, and each man tucked himself behind his shield. The first arrows splashed into the river, but soon they began to rain on the army of defenders, slamming into their shields and bouncing off or occasionally sticking into them. The soldiers hid behind their shields for several minutes as the rain of arrows gradually lessened and finally stopped. Josiah stood to his feet along with the rest of his army and looked across the river in defiance of the dwarves. Already the giants were splashing into the river with a crazed battle cry; they would be upon the defenders in moments. Josiah braced himself for the impact of the enemy, but was still forced backward by the sheer force of the dwarf bodies hitting his shield. The soldiers in the front line dug their feet into the ground, but they slid across the soggy earth until they hit the shields of the soldiers behind them. The soldiers in the second line dug in as well and pushed as hard as they could against the might of the dwarves, but they were still not enough to stop the advance of the enemy.
Josiah was getting pressed between his shield and that of the man behind him, and he knew that if something didn’t give soon, he would literally get the life crushed out of him. He collected what was left of his breath and gave a strangled command to push, but he didn’t know if anyone had heard him. In the following seconds, the pressure on him did not let up, and he was convinced that his life would end here. But then he felt a strong shove from behind that was moving him forward and throwing the dwarf directly in front of him backward. He gulped in a lung of air and almost simultaneously slashed his sword across the neck of the dwarf. With a flick of his wrist, he jerked the blade down and slashed the dwarf across his waist. His blade came away bloody, and he knew that the dwarf was dead even before he collapsed to the ground.
“The armor is weak at the neck and waist!” Josiah shouted. He plunged his sword into the neck of the next dwarf and quickly jerked it free, while blocking a blow from another dwarf’s ax with his shield. He swung his sword at the dwarf that was attacking him, but the brute deflected the blade and landed another smashing blow, which Josiah again
caught on his shield. He swung with his sword again, this time at waist level, an attack for which the dwarf was not prepared. The blade scraped across the dwarf’s armor, but it jumped down into a seam at the last minute, laying open the brute’s stomach and dropping him immediately. The minutes blurred together as Josiah continued to receive and deliver blows. Sometimes he was fighting dwarves he was able to easily dispatch, but just as often, his opponent was at least his equal in strength and skill. He was steadily tiring, and there did not appear to be an end to the attack in sight. He relinquished his position to another soldier, an orc, and passed back through the ranks to relative safety.
Now that Josiah was able to take a look at the bigger picture, he saw that his strategy of stopping the dwarves at the narrow pass was working brilliantly. Hundreds of dwarves lay dead on the banks of the river, whereas only a handful of his men had fallen. Even though they continued to hold the line despite the perpetual pounding of the dwarves, Josiah knew that his men required rest. He needed to figure out a way to force the dwarves into a retreat, but he could not see how he was going to do it. After all, even though his men had held the pass with a determination that would put fear into the hearts of most people, the dwarves were a different story. Infused with unshakable courage, they did not know fear on this battlefield and refused to retreat. Josiah wondered what could be more intimidating than men so determined to hold their ground that they killed the dwarves by the dozens. As he glanced around at his army, his gaze locked on the answer to his question. He motioned for Benjamin, who had fallen back with him.
“Tell the ogres that their turn is here,” Josiah told his messenger. “I need them to move up to the front line and show the dwarves what they can do. Tell them to be as intimidating as possible.”
Benjamin ran to Commander Looran and conveyed the message. The ogre leader gave a deafening roar, and his soldiers, eager to get into the action, bellowed in return. With massive strides they cleared a path through the ranks of humans and broke into the front line with a terrifying battle cry that shook the ground. They had a variety of weapons, from clubs to massive axes and gigantic swords, and everywhere they struck, dwarves were crushed and sent flying. The ogres’ legs became weapons as well when the dwarves got too close, and many enemies found that a powerful kick could prove just as fatal as a slash from a sword. The ogres killed scores of dwarves, but even they were not able to inspire the fear that Josiah had so desperately needed. Whenever a dwarf fell, another would step up to take its place, and now a new weapon threatened the defenders. Dwarves carrying crossbows mingled with the hand-to-hand units and advanced with them. They didn’t seem to care about the safety of their own soldiers, and dozens of dwarves dropped from their own arrows. Even so, the effect against the defending army was devastating. The ogres were large and made prime targets for archers.
Ogres have tough skins and can absorb a lot of abuse, but it is still possible to deal them a mortal blow. When this wound is delivered to an ogre, they are far from out of the battle. Sensing that they are about to die, they make the famous “ogre’s death charge,” smashing through the enemy ranks and killing as many enemies as they are able before they fall. As the dwarf archers began to fire, many ogres took the death charge, killing hundreds of dwarves. But still, not even a dent had been made in the massive numbers of the dwarf army. The remaining ogres were forced to fall back and let the humans take the front line again. However, the dwarf crossbows were just as deadly against humans and orcs as they were against the ogres, and for the first time, Josiah truly realized that his army was going to be totally annihilated.
“Archers, fall back to the hill,” Josiah shouted, implementing his plan for the army’s last stand. The archers quickly retreated to the hill that had previously been fortified, even as the dwarves chopped their way through the defending swordsmen.
“Commence an orderly retreat,” Josiah ordered. “All but the first three lines will fall back to the hill. The rest will hold the dwarves.”
The infantry immediately ran to the hill, which was a little too quickly for Josiah’s taste. It seemed almost as if they were running away. Josiah turned to where the final section of his army was holding the dwarves in a standstill. He drew his sword, raised his shield, and ran toward the action.
“Fall back toward the hill, but maintain a tight group,” Josiah shouted. The soldiers formed a tight ring, with men facing out on all sides, and slowly pulled out of their position. The dwarves immediately pushed around the outer edges of the band and quickly surrounded the little party. Josiah was still in the middle of the group, so he took a position facing the hill that they were trying to reach. This was where the most fighting would take place, and he wanted to be there to lead his men. The dwarves pitted the full weight of their army against the small group of soldiers, trying to make a hole in their line, but Josiah’s men stubbornly held their ground. Then the crossbow darts came. The dwarves fired a barrage of the deadly projectiles into the group, cutting down more than half of the soldiers and wounding the rest.
Instinctively the soldiers pulled into a small knot and crouched down so that they would be harder for the crossbows to hit. Josiah ducked behind his shield just as a dwarf swung an ax at him. He peeked out and swung his sword low, cutting the dwarf’s feet off at the ankles. The dwarf fell outside of his range and another moved to take its place. As this enemy brought his ax down, Josiah raised his shield and caught the blow. Then he rammed the bottom of the shield into the dwarf’s midriff. The dwarf fell away, clutching his stomach. Josiah planted his shield back in front of himself and stabbed and slashed with his sword, taking down anyone who came within reach of his arm.
Another barrage of arrows hit the soldiers, killing two more. Josiah caught a bolt on his shield, but the razor-sharp tip pierced through the metal and dug into his breastplate. Josiah glanced back and saw that only five more soldiers remained. They pulled into a tighter knot and fought for all they were worth, but they knew that it was only a matter of time before they would be slaughtered just like the rest of their comrades. Time seemed to shift into slow motion for Josiah as he watched a nearby dwarf sight in on him with a crossbow. The dwarf’s finger applied pressure to the trigger of the weapon, releasing the string, which flung the bolt out of the weapon. Sound faded as the bolt slowly cut through the air, over the shoulder of a dwarf, and straight at Josiah’s head.
“Courage, Josiah.” The voice was soft yet powerful, and it gave Josiah a new strength. He jerked his shield up in front of his face and the bolt smashed into it, punching through the metal, but coming to a stop before it reached his helmet. Josiah gave a guttural roar and rose to his full height. He swung his sword furiously, clearing an arc around himself and leading his small band toward the hill where the rest of his army waited. The dwarves in front of him fell as they came into his range, their helmets and shields cloven in two by his brutal slashes. He used his shield for a weapon as much as he used it for defense, and many dwarves were hurled back into their comrades by blows from it. Slowly Josiah led his soldiers toward the hill, cutting the distance in half and then in half again. With only a few dozen yards left to go, two dwarves attacked him simultaneously. He hit one with his shield and slashed the other in the stomach, but in doing so, he left himself unprotected. The flailing weapon of the second dwarf slashed the bicep of his left arm, rendering his shield useless.
A shout from behind distracted Josiah; therefore, he was unprepared when the next dwarf attacked. He was forced to stumble backward to avoid the swipe of the dwarf’s weapon, and though he attempted to maintain his balance, he was unable to do so and fell to the ground. His left arm and shield flopped onto his chest, and moments later, the ax of the attacking dwarf slammed into it, driving the breath out of Josiah. The inevitable was only prolonged, however, and Josiah watched as the dwarf raised his weapon for the final blow. Just as the ax reached the apex of its swing, an unknown form leaped over Josiah’s head and landed between him and the dwarf. The swo
rd of Josiah’s rescuer flashed, and the arm of the dwarf flew off. Again the sword flashed and this time the dwarf’s head was separated from his body. A shower of red speckles painted Josiah’s shield, and the dwarf toppled backward onto the bloodstained ground.
Josiah’s rescuer, who Josiah could now identify as an elf, turned and helped him to his feet. Hidden by the massive dwarf army, the elves had arrived from the west and joined the fight. Their arrival was a complete surprise to both armies, and they held the upper hand, though only for a brief amount of time. Josiah allowed himself to be led to the hill, to which the elves had cleared a path. The elves quickly followed him to the high, fortified position.
“Josiah, are you okay?” Josiah turned to see Cirro jogging toward him.
“I just got slashed on the arm,” Josiah answered, “which is a lot better than most of the soldiers out there got.”
“True,” Cirro said as he tore a piece of cloth from his shirt and wrapped it around Josiah’s arm. He knotted the cloth and tucked the stray edges of the makeshift bandage under it.
“Do you want some water?” he asked as he handed a canteen to Josiah. Josiah was silent for several long moments as he downed a long draught of water. Finally he handed the canteen back to Cirro and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Thanks,” he told Cirro. “You don’t know how much I needed that.”
The two friends walked across the hill together and approached a large group of elves. Josiah recognized Wellter, so he forced his way through the elves to him. He saluted and waited for Wellter to return the salute.
“Hello, Josiah,” Wellter said after Josiah stood at ease. “I sense that you have a reason for being here.”
“Yes, sir,” Josiah responded. “As admiral of the combined human and ogre army, I feel that it is my duty to confer with you on what we are to do about our current position.”
“Admiral?” Wellter asked with a twinkle in his eye. “I don’t recall you having that rank when we set out from the city.”