by Tom Burton
“We’re going to get you out!” Laura reassures her.
But the mother remains cradling herself in the corner of the room. The roof above her then suddenly begins to crack.
“Grab my hand, now!” Laura shouts.
But the roof collapses very quickly. Even as the mother’s screams pierce Laura’s ears, Laura flees the house, throwing herself out the front door just as the entire house collapses. She slowly gets back to her feet and watches as the house crumbles in on itself.
“Laura!”
Laura turns around to see Kamara jogging toward her.
“Most of the soldiers have left carrying the provisions…but some have elected to stay behind and keep the dragon occupied.”
“Where’s the queen?”
“No one has seen her,” Kamara replies.
Laura looks around quickly to see if she can spot Queen Athora; she then turns back to Kamara.
“Make sure everyone who is leaving gets on the ships okay, and wait for me at the rowboat.”
Kamara looks at Laura unconvinced.
“Go….Go!” Laura shouts.
Reluctantly, Kamara leaves the village.
Then, Laura turns around to go back and find the queen.
Laura runs aimlessly around the village, evading the dragon as it breathes fireballs past her. She sees the remaining soldiers shooting their arrows at the dragon soaring over their heads, continuing to fail to pierce the beast’s armor. She watches as some of the soldiers are burned alive. Eventually, she finds Queen Athora also shooting arrows at the dragon as she shelters herself behind a house.
Laura runs toward the queen.
“My queen, most of the soldiers have left, carrying the provisions. We need to go. Now!”
Queen Athora shakes her head, keeping her eyes on the dragon.
“I will not leave my people. How can I ask them to fight for me, if I cannot even fight for them?”
“I’m sorry,” Laura whispers.
She draws her sword. Queen Athora stares at her, too shocked to react. After a few moments, Laura swings her sword and cuts the queen’s bow in half. Then she wraps Queen Athora into her arms, and slowly drags her from the house.
“No, no! Leave me here!” Queen Athora screams. But Laura only tightens her grip and rushes her out of the village.
Down on the beach, Kamara carries two wooden boxes toward the rowboat. She places the boxes into the boat—but then she hears the roar of the dragon. She turns to see the dragon again flying over the village, raining fireballs down on it.
Kamara watches the dragon in sadness. But as the beast’s roar fades into silence, Kamara hears a woman’s screams. She then sees Laura dragging the queen toward the rowboat.
Kamara runs to them.
“What happened…?” she asks.
“I stopped her from making a mistake,” Laura replies.
Queen Athora continues to try to shake Laura off. Kamara then also grabs the queen, and she and Laura head for the rowboat. Once they reach the boat, they let go of Athora, who glares back at them in anger.
“Why did you do that?” she demands.
“Because you have a much better chance of obtaining vengeance in Neroman,” Laura answers.
Athora reluctantly boards the rowboat. After Kamara unties the rope from around the tree she pushes the boat into the water then climbs aboard, joining Laura and the queen. Laura has taken up the oars and is already rowing toward their ship.
As the three board the ship, Queen Athora rushes straight to the stern, looking back toward her island. She sees the dragon soaring and plunging over the village, continuing to breathe fire down on it, burning it to the ground. Tears soon roll down the queen’s eyes, as she does not remove her gaze from the island before her.
One of the women from Dellmoor approaches Laura near the bow of the ship.
“What happened?” the woman asks.
Laura declines to answer the question. “Head for Neroman,” she instructs.
As the sailors unfurl the jib and main sails, and the sails begin to catch the wind, Kamara turns to the starboard side of the ship. She watches as several other ships come sailing around a narrow point of the island.
Kamara turns to Laura and shouts:
“Laura…come here!”
Laura approaches her companion and stands beside her at the gunwale.
“They are going to join us!” Kamara observes.
The two watch cheerfully as the bows of the Tero-Bans’ ships turn to follow them toward Neroman.
Back at Redlock, in the heart of the North, most of the stronghold has emptied. Only workers and unabled bodied orcs remain behind. Four of these orcs approach the great doors of the throne room, pausing a few moments before hesitantly opening the doors.
As the doors open, the orcs find Mutaro leaning back on his throne, conjuring magical sparks between his fingertips. He looks up to see the orcs walking toward him, scars from the recent battle with Azdus and Goras visible on his face.
“Disturbance of the throne room is permitted only for news that concerns me,” Mutaro warns.
The orcs stop, heeding the wizard’s warning.
Suddenly, the great doors slam shut behind them. “We have received word,” one of the orcs offers nervously, “the ship has headed out of Neroman, sailing south.”
Mutaro’s hands cease their motion. The sparks emerging from his fingertips immediately die out at his command.
“We believe they may have fled, my master,” another of the orcs says.
“No,” Mutaro returns. “They would not abandon their country so easily.”
“Scouting, maybe?” the orc says.
“It doesn’t matter,” another orc quickly intervenes. “The dragon was sent to follow them.”
Mutaro nods softly.
“Good.”
He looks back at the orcs and quickly stands. He then approaches the orcs, but they slowly withdraw from him in fear.
“And what of my army? What of the invasion?” he demands.
“They’ve moved for the West, my master,” replies one of the orcs. “They are preparing the attack on Volgate as we speak.”
Mutaro’s stance relaxes.
“Good. Ride out to them. Once Volgate is taken, head for Meldom and await further instructions.”
The orcs quickly head out of the throne room. Soon, on the burned-out grounds around the stronghold, they reach a pack of their wolves. They mount the wolves and ride out of Redlock, heading toward the West.
At Volgate, the capital of the West, five thousands orcs keep watch on a small hill deep into the night, looking over the already overridden and damaged town. Ahead of the orc army Urag, the commander of the orc armies, sports red-plated armor with black stripes running diagonally across his breast plate. He casually carries a large club in his hand.
One of the lesser orcs approaches Urag.
“Luke Snow attacked Volgate when he captured Lord Arthur Fuller; this should be a simple assault,” the orc informs Urag.
Urag does not say a word. Instead, he starts walking toward Volgate.
Five thousand orcs follow behind him.
As the orcs reach the bottom of the hill and gaze upon the broken gates of Volgate before them, Urag starts to run toward the town. The legion of orcs behind him follow. As the orcs charge the city, they are not met by any defenses. The orcs quickly swarm the streets, looking for men and women to slay.
“Burn it all down,” Urag shouts.
The orcs then trash the buildings around them, spilling the ales from the taverns and breaking the tables and chairs inside. Soon, they find barrels of oil and torches.
As the buildings begin to burn, another orc approaches Urag.
“We found them, in one of the buildings boarded up.”
He points down the street, toward the town hall building.
Along with a handful of orcs, Urag walks over to the doors of the town hall. Several more orcs meet them at the doors and try to drive them open. Urag steps up closer to the door and kicks at them forcefully, breaking through. Then, he pushes the doors open.
The orcs charge into the hall. They are met by a company of armed men and women; the orcs ruthlessly outnumber them and wrestle them to the floor, restraining them painfully. Then the orcs unsheathe their knives,
“No!” Urag bellows.
The orcs look back at their commander.
“Mutaro does not want prisoners,” one of the orcs says. “I do,” Urag tells them. “Tie them up, and bring them with me,” he instructs.
The orcs sheathe their knives and drag the humans out of the town hall.
Outside of Volgate, Urag and the orcs drag the remaining humans up the hill. Once they reach the summit, the orc commander turns to his minions.
“Get them down on their knees and make them watch,” the orc commander instructs.
One of the men begs, “No…please, just kill us!”
“We will, eventually,” Urag reassures him.
The orcs then shove the dozen humans onto their knees. They all watch Volgate slowly be consumed by fire. As the sun appears in the east, the light shines across the hill. Across the field, the surviving humans see the great towers and buildings collapse, consumed by the fires.
Urag then hears a softly thundering noise behind him. He turns quickly and sees four orcs riding wolves approaching him. He walks toward them.
“Urag! A message from the master!” one of the riders shouts. “Mutaro has summoned all his legions to Meldom; most of our soldiers are on their way now.”
“Will Mutaro be at Meldom?” Urag asks.
“He did not say.”
Urag turns and charges toward the side of the hill, where he lets off a huge roar. The screams and shouts within Volgate soon turn to deathly silence. After a few moments, the orcs in Volgate soon stream out of the front gate.
Urag turns back to the orc riders.
“Ride on ahead, tell Mutaro we will be there,” he tells them.
The riders quickly turn and sprint away.
“What of the humans?” asks one of the orcs on the hillside.
“Take them with us,” Urag instructs.
The orcs then start to drag the humans as they march away from Volgate.
The following morning, a few miles from the bridge to the West, Aaron and George, along with George’s father and the survivors of Greyshore, walk down a muddy path that runs through an open grassy plain. After an hour of slow toil, they see the bridge ahead of them. They see the huge hole in the middle of the bridge, causing some of the civilians to gasp. Aaron, walking near the front of the group, turns around and sighs. Robert Carrick, who is farther back, sees Aaron’s frustration, and soon catches up to him.
“I understand you are desperate to see your friends again. But we have elders in our midst; we cannot proceed as keenly as you wish us.”
Aaron’s frustrations are not so easily swayed.
“If your son had not delayed in his choice, we may have already been there by now,” Aaron argues.
“You have got the completely wrong impression of him,” Robert replies. He stops Aaron him and points toward where George trails behind them. Aaron sees George with his arm around an elderly man, helping him walk alongside his family.
“My son, the one you so quickly judge, is a man who puts his people before himself, something I think this country is losing. His love for the West is the reason he was hesitant to take his people out of it, maybe for good.”
Aaron’s frustration fades soon enough, and he begins to look at George more understandingly.
A moment later, the group of humans hears a loud horn blow behind them. The group quickly turns to place the noise. Soon, they see smoke rising in the distance.
Aaron runs toward George.
“An orc horn! We have to get off the path!” He looks around; the bridge catches his eye. “We can climb atop the walls between the gaps. The orcs can pass through without noticing us.”
George then looks up at the bridge. Finally, he nods in agreement.
“Everyone—” George shouts “—make haste for the bridge!”
Having overheard Aaron’s conversation with George, some of the men and women panic. They sprint blindly toward the bridge, until the group is completely separated. Behind are the children and elders, unable to keep up with the men and women sprinting to the bridge. However, George and Aaron elect to remain behind.
“Help me with this man,” George says to Aaron.
Aaron carries the man toward the bridge. George then joins his father and accompanies him to the bridge.
Eventually, the men and women in the front of the group who pulled away from the others make it to the bridge. They see a separate staircase one one of the walls that lead to the top of it, they point and run toward it. They climb the stairs as the horn behind continues to blow intermittently.
The stragglers, including Aaron and George, see the group in front climbing the stairs.
“Can you see them?” Aaron asks George.
George looks behind him and quickly peers out over the field.
“Not yet, but the horn is getting louder.”
The stragglers reach the bridge. Once the last of them has climbed the stairs and reached the top, Aaron and George start up the stairs. At the top of the wall, they see all the men, women, and children either lying down or crouching. Aaron and George reach the edge of the wall, and crouch down, even as they are still able to see over the wall.
After only a few moments, Aaron and George hear the same horn blow once— but far louder than before.
“Everyone stay down, stay quiet,” George shouts to the group.
A moment later, silence fills the top of the walls.
Then, Aaron and George see the hordes of orcs walking across the plains in the distance.
“How many?” Aaron asks George quietly.
George looks at the approaching army for a few moments.
“There must be five thousand in their ranks,” he replies. “We can take them on.”
Aaron shakes his head at the suggestion.
“Stay patient. We stand a better chance with the others than we do here.”
As the orcs draw closer, George and Aaron see the prisoners Urag has taken.
“We cannot leave them to be tortured until they die!” George says, grabbing the hilt of his sword.
“We will lose more lives than we can save down there,” Aaron responds coldly..
“You’re willing to just sit here and let our people die?”
Before Aaron can respond, a horn blares in the distance. It is not the same horn as the earlier horn; this horn is of a lighter pitch.
Aaron and George turn to see a second orc battalion approaching Urag’s hordes.
Seeing the second battalion approaching, Urag raises his fist into the air, signaling for his army to stop.
“Have you been summoned, commander?” the orc leading the second battalion asks.
Urag nods.
“More of you arrived in the West than what I see now,” Urag observes.
The other orc recoils.
“We were hit by a small band of humans in Greyshore; we suffered a heavier loss than what we expected, but two thousand of our ranks remain.”
Urag quickly grabs the orc by the neck and lifts him up off his feet.
“Where are the humans now?” he asks softly.
“We don’t know, we retreated.”
Urag growls at the other commander’s response. The orc in Urag’s grasp tries to pry open Urag’s hand from around his neck. Urag growls again then breaks th
e orc’s neck. Then he drops the dead orc to the ground. He raises his arm again, but this time his palm is open.
The two battalions of orc begin to march through the gaping hole in the walls, below where Aaron and George are hiding,
As the horns continue to blow, Aaron and George watch the orcs march over the bridge and into the Crown Lands.
“We cannot beat that,” George whispers.
“We’re not asking you to beat them. We are asking you to fight them.” Aaron replies.
George smiles at Aaron’s comment, but keeps his eyes fixed on the orc army passing over the bridge.
The sounds of the horns grow quieter as the last few orcs descend from the bridge and the two battalions of orcs distance themselves from the humans on the walls. The humans then start to stand from their crouching positions.
“Everyone!” George instructs. “Let’s make our way slowly down to the base of the wall—wait for everyone get down before we move into the Crown Lands. Let’s stick together.”
A large contingent of the men and women then begin to descend the stairs back down to the ground. Aaron and George watch the humans slowly moving downward.
“We must remain vigilant when we are in the Crown Lands,” Aaron warns. “Orcs could be anywhere.”
“Agreed, the land is full of treachery and danger anyway.”
George then turns and finds his father. The two walk down the stairs together. Once everyone else has descended from the wall, Aaron, too, walks down the stairs then follows the group as they walk across the bridge into the Crown Lands.
At Meldom, several days after the assault of Volgate, Urag and the eight thousand orcs reach the outskirts of the city. It is night. The human prisoners are chained together at their necks, dragged by the hands of Urag.
As Urag approaches the city, he sees hordes of orcs already awaiting him. The hordes soon part as Urag and his battalions pass through them. Once Urag reaches the gates, the army behind him stops and waits. Still dragging the chain of human prisoners, the commander then continues through the gate, walking across the courtyard of Meldom.