Saddened, he paused, studying her. She seemed lonely. Perhaps all she wants is someone to talk to, how could he deny her that? “Okay, but it may be late before I can meet you. I will have to help plan the fort's defenses.”
Elona's eyes were a little misty, and she smiled, “Thank you.”
The smile on the girl's face was infectious, and Aaron found himself smiling back at her. He touched her on the shoulder and then moved on toward the mess tent.
“I'll wait for you on the steps to the temple,” she called out after him. He responded by smiling and waving back at her.
Flare stood on the western wall waiting for today’s inevitable attack, and wondering what the goblins would do today. The sun was just coming up, and judging by the lack of clouds in the sky, rain would not save them today. The sun caused the entire eastern sky to be lit up with a bright reddish glow, but his thoughts were to the west. Goblins and trolls did not join forces. How could they all of a sudden join together? What could make them join forces now? Flare quit worrying about their motives, and went back to watching for the attackers.
They attacked earlier than they had attacked previously. Today they came charging across the valley a couple of hours before noon.
Flare had positioned his troops the same as in previous days, with Atock in charge of the north, and Philip in charge of the southern part. Flare took charge of the middle, and kept Trestus close to him. Trestus swore he was ready for battle, but Flare wanted him close enough to keep an eye on.
The goblins charged in two main columns. One column charged and attacked the northern part of the wall, and the other column charged and attacked the southern part. The goblins attacked in the same manner as before, with ladders and grappling hooks, trying to scale the walls.
“What in the name of the abyss are they doing? If they have a chance of getting in the fort, it’s in the middle, where the gates are.” Flare said to Trestus.
“I don’t …” Trestus started to say before the explosion cut him off and sent them flying.
The wall underneath them and the battlements around them had just shook, with splinters of stone flying through the air. All Flare had seen was a bright blue light and then the wall had started moving under their feet. He and Trestus slipped and fell to the ground.
They picked themselves up off the ground, and quickly moved to the battlements and looked over. The ground was still scorched and barren from Enstorion’s spell, but there wasn’t anybody down there.
Just then, a blue ball of fire flew in, from over the valley, and slammed into the wall just to the left of the gates. The whole wall shook, with dust and splinters flying in all directions.
Flare quickly scanned the valley floor trying to locate the source of the fireballs. He quickly spotted two humans in robes standing at the far end of the goblin columns. They were several hundred yards from the walls of the fort, and were surrounded by guards. He watched them for several moments, and then ducked as the magician at the end of the column on the right, let loose another fireball. This one struck the gates and rattled the wall again. He was positive that he heard the gates creaking under the strain.
“It’s never easy. Is it?” Flare asked of no one in particular. Then turning, he grabbed Trestus by the arm and said, “Split these troops in half, and send half to Atock, and the other half to Philip.”
“Right. But what are we going to do about those magicians?” Trestus asked pointing out over the wall.
“You worry about those troops, and let me worry about the magicians.” Flare hollered over the impact of another fireball.
Trestus scurried away, and Flare turned back toward the wall. What was he going to do about those magicians? They were well out of range of the archers, and Mikela couldn’t reach both of them with a magic spell.
Flare stood there for several moments, considering his options. He quickly realized that the magicians could not be reached from here, so that somebody would have to take the fight to them.
“Mikela! Come here!” Flare shouted.
Mikela was on the wall, but not currently involved in the fight. She jerked around at the sound of her name, and came running.
Trestus came running up behind Flare, and appeared to be out of breath. “Flare, the troops have been split up; per your orders. What’s the plan?”
Flare didn’t answer him, because at that moment Mikela finally reached them. Enton and Aaron came running up behind Mikela.
“What are we going to do?” Aaron asked, slightly out of breath.
‘They’re all looking to me for answers.’ Flare thought. ‘How did I get myself into this? All I wanted was to be accepted. I never wanted to be a hero or be in charge.’
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Flare looked from side to side, trying to find out what was making that sound. To his chagrin, he discovered it was his own heart beating faster than he ever thought possible.
He looked back toward the magicians, who were still pounding fireballs into the wall. “We must take the fight to them. We’re going to have to go through the goblins, and try to kill the magicians.”
Flare looked back at the guardians, and instead of surprise, they wore looks of grim determination. ‘They’re getting used to battle; nothing is surprising them anymore.’ He thought.
“Mikela. Can you get the four of us through the goblins near the magicians?”
Mikela considered. “I can muddle your appearance, which should confuse them into thinking you’re just another group of goblins. It might be enough to get you through, but I can’t promise you it will work.”
“We’ll take our chances. What happens if we put an arrow into one of those magicians when they are casting that fireball spell?” Flare asked, thinking of Enstorion.
“Well. I would imagine that it would be like one of their fireballs radiating outward from the magician.” Mikela answered. “You had best have a boulder or ridge or something to hide behind, and I don’t know if that will be enough. The heat might still kill you.”
“Listen up. Aaron and I will go after the magician on the left. Enton and Trestus will take the one on the right.” Flare said. “Trestus, get close enough to use your bow, but wait for me. When we’re both in position, I will give you the hand signal for move forward.” It was one of many common hand signals used in their guardian training. The hand signal was done by making a fist with the index finger pointing straight out, and then the finger was waved in a circle. “After the signal, count to three and shoot your arrow.”
Mikela interrupted Flare. “Once you shoot an arrow at the magicians, the magic spell will be shattered, and they’ll be after you. You had better not miss that first shot.”
Flare looked first at Mikela, and then at the rest of the guardians. “Any questions?” He paused, “All right. Mikela cast your spell.”
As Mikela began casting her spell, Flare was surprised at how easy it was to follow the spell. Apparently, his time with Cassandra had taught him more than he had realized.
All too soon Mikela was through, and the soldiers were ready to go over the wall. Their appearance had not changed, but Mikela assured them that the goblins would see them as fellow goblins, at least for a short while.
He paused, and grasped the hands of his fellow guardians. “Good luck. Remember, kill the magician, and get down. After the explosion, try to make it back to the fort, however you can.”
Flare got up to the battlements, and kneeled down. The silence was eerie and unnerving as they waited. He attached one end of the rope to a ring on the wall, and waited.
Two fireballs slammed into the wall in rapid succession. He waited until the stone chunks had landed, and then he heaved the rope over the side of the wall. He slid over the side and climbed down as quickly as possible. Reaching the ground, he dropped into a crouch in a small depression that was all black from Enstorion's fire spell.
Trestus, Enton, and Aaron followed Flare down the rope. Flare was nervous the whole time Aaron was climbing down
the rope. A fireball would be hitting the wall at any moment, and he could easily see Aaron getting caught in it. Aaron reached the ground only moments before a fireball slammed into the wall, shaking the wall and covering the soldiers in dust and stone chips.
Trestus tried to speak, before the dust had settled, and ended up in a coughing fit.
Flare waited several more moments. “Good Luck,” was the only thing he could say as Enton and Trestus sprinted off to the right.
Flare and Aaron ran, hunched over, trying to keep hidden. They used everything from ridges, to boulders, to outcroppings of rock to cover their approach.
At first the going was easy. The goblins were staying well away from the gates, because of the fireballs. As they moved further away from the gates, they began to encounter more goblins. Fortunately, they were ignored.
It took about ten minutes to reach a favorable spot, where he felt comfortable that he could hit the magician and not have any goblins interfere. They stopped on a slight ridge, which was to the north of the magician. Flare got his bow and arrow ready, and looked to see how Trestus and Enton were doing.
Trestus and Enton had made better time than they had, and were already in position. They had reached a boulder that was to the south of their magician. They were using the boulder for shelter and were awaiting Flare’s signal.
He watched the magicians for several seconds, to make sure they were in the process of casting. He was about to signal the others, when he noticed the people standing near the tree line. He recognized two of them. The big bald fighter and the pretty woman he had seen when Zalustus had first rode out to speak to him. The others he did not know. Some of them were fighters, but there looked to be several magicians as well. They were just watching the siege of the fort, but they were too far away to interfere. 'Worry about them later,’ Flare thought, and then he quickly signaled to Trestus.
Keeping a count in his head, Flare notched an arrow and drew the bow. He aimed for the magician’s chest, and tried hard to ignore the beads of sweat that were running down his face and nose. He reached the count of three, breathed out, and held his breath. Still holding his breath, he ever so smoothly let the arrow fly.
The arrow flew straight and true, but at the last second the magician moved. Flare’s heart skipped a beat, for just a second, as he thought he had missed. Fortunately, the magician was still struck by the arrow. It slammed into his throat, with the head of the arrow clearly protruding out the back side. The magician fell to his knees, with his hands clawing at his throat, and his eyes bulging in their sockets.
“Beautiful shot, Flare.” Aaron said quietly.
“Not really. I was aiming for his heart.” Flare answered.
Flare watched for several more seconds, until the magician fell onto his face. Then, heeding Mikela’s advice, he dropped into the depression next to Aaron.
He was laying face down, when he thought about the other magician. He started to rise to check on Trestus and Enton, but at that moment the effects of the magician’s shattered spell flowed over them.
Scorching waves of flame rolled over their flimsy and insufficient hiding place. The heat seemed to suck all of the oxygen out of the air, and they gasped for breath. They could feel hair being singed, and skin starting to burn. Their weapons and armor became white hot, and burnt their skin. The pain and agony reached such a point that Flare wondered if death wouldn't be preferable.
Finally, the heat and flames subsided. Flare and Aaron slowly sat up. Each movement seemed to bring another piece of metal into contact with their skin, and the pain was excruciating.
Aaron looked simply horrible, and Flare knew that he probably looked as bad. Aaron’s skin was bright red, and blistered, and his hair was singed and smoking. There was a disgusting smell of cooked meat in the air.
“I’ve eaten venison that was less cooked than you.” Flare said to Aaron, grimacing.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Aaron said, breathing deeply.
“Save it. We’ve got to get moving.” Flare answered, getting to his feet.
The ground was scorched and burnt all around their depression, and he could clearly see his and Aaron’s outline burnt onto the ground.
The devastation had spread in a circular pattern from the location of the magician, and had reached almost to the walls of the fort. The dead and dying were everywhere. The goblins that had been within a hundred yards of the magician had died almost instantly, but the rest of the goblins had been burnt horribly and were dying slowly.
Flare thought of Trestus and Enton, and turned his head in their direction, and saw a similar scene of destruction. Much to his relief, Enton and Trestus were already making their way to the walls, although it appeared that Trestus was requiring assistance from Enton.
“Come on, Aaron. We got to get moving.” Flare said to Aaron, who was still sitting on the ground.
“I can’t make it.” Aaron answered weakly.
He turned back to Aaron, and grabbed him on the shoulder. In a quiet voice Flare said, “Do you know what goblins do to prisoners? The pain you feel now is nothing to what's coming.” He had to get Aaron moving. But how? “If you can’t make it, I’ll have to take mercy on you. I’ll finish you quickly.” He made as if to draw his sword.
Understanding dawned in the eyes of Aaron. “What?!”
Flare’s words had the desired effect, as Aaron scrambled to his feet. He looked unsteady, but he maintained his balance, although he kept glancing in Flare's direction.
Flare grabbed him by the shoulder and drug him. They moved toward the walls as fast as they could, but they barely could maintain a slow jog. They moved toward the gates and back toward Trestus and Enton, hoping that they could catch them.
It was the longest walk of Flare’s life. His whole body was sore from the burns and blisters, and it hurt even to breathe. They continued to press on, but he had to stop several times to push Aaron on, although Flare himself wanted to stop. He forced one foot in front of the other, not even looking where they were going. He stopped walking when he realized that he was about to walk over Enton.
Enton was standing with his hands on his hips, breathing deeply. Trestus was lying on the ground at Enton’s feet, and he too was breathing heavily.
“Enton. How did we catch you? I thought you would be at the fort by now.” Flare asked.
“We would have, but some of the goblins survived the blast, and they’re between us and the wall.” Enton answered.
Flare looked out over the remains of the attackers, and was surprised to see that they had only covered half of the distance to the fort. Burnt and charred bodies were scattered everywhere. Most of the goblins had perished in the fire blast, but maybe a hundred had survived. Even though they were only about a hundred yards from the wall, there were a growing number of goblins in their way.
“We had better hide, before they spot us.” Flare said, sighing. ‘Why can’t anything be easy?’ He thought in disgust.
“Too late,” was Enton’s quiet reply.
Several black goblins had taken charge, and were trying to bring some form of order to the survivors.
Flare watched in dismay as the goblins slowly moved toward them. He began to immediately look around, hoping to find a position that could be held against superior numbers. His hopes were quickly dashed.
Panic began to slowly rise in Flare, as his death quickly approached.
The quiet was broken by Enton drawing his battle ax from his pack. “I guess I will get a hero’s death. It’s a shame nobody will ever know.”
Enton's sad tone touched the very core of Flare’s being. All thoughts of panic vanished quickly, and were replaced with an utter calmness that filled him with resolve. “If this is the day that the gods have chosen for us to die, then so be it. But let us make them proud.” He answered.
Flare saw grim agreement in the face of Enton, but Aaron and Trestus were beyond the point of caring. In fact, he thought that they might even welcome death, as
a release from the pain.
Flare shook his head to clear it of such thoughts, and drew his sword. He turned toward the goblins, and waited.
The goblins didn’t take long to surround the humans, forming a circle around them.
After several moments, a large and ugly goblin stepped forward and spoke, “Youse caaann’t git baack. Giive op.” He said.
It took a moment or two before Flare realized what he was saying, but it didn’t matter. There was no way they would willingly go with the goblins. A death on a goblin sword was much preferable to being one of their prisoners.
Flare chuckled, more as an insult than in merriment, “Ugly and stupid. That’s quite a combination.”
The goblin simply stared for a minute, hate showing in his eyes. “Giit dhem.” He said.
Flare and Enton stood back to back over Aaron and Trestus.
A horrible thought occurred to Flare, “Enton. The last thing you do before you die, is finish Trestus. I’ll take care of Aaron.” He paused, but Enton didn’t answer. “Enton? You do know what goblins do to their prisoners, don’t you?”
“I don’t agree with it, but I will do it. May Adel have mercy on us.” Enton answered.
The first charge, the goblins were overconfident. They rushed the soldiers, thinking their superior numbers would overwhelm them.
Flare deftly knocked the first goblin's sword to one side, and then reversing the motion of his sword, he gutted him. One lesson he had learned from his instructors, was that any advantage was to be exploited. The goblins were still disorientated, and he preyed on this by gutting the first goblin and leaving him alive to scream. He hoped that he would further demoralize them, and gain some time for the soldiers.
Flare could hear the thunks, thuds, and screams that came from behind him. Apparently, Enton was causing some damage with his ax.
The black goblin screamed something quickly in his own language, and pointed at Flare. Six of the goblins, closest to Flare, drew their swords and advanced.
The Guardians: Book One of the Restoration Series Page 25