The leader was a monster. He was fifteen feet tall and had to weigh six hundred pounds. He was wearing armor that was made of thick leather, and was armed with a massive club that had six-inch spikes protruding from the end. He had an iron helmet on his head, which was open in the front so that his face was visible.
Murleen watched as the leader came through the gates. Fear settled in her stomach, as she frantically tried to think of something to do.
The giant stopped inside the gate, and swung his club. The club slammed into a wounded soldier, who had been trying to get away.
Murleen felt her stomach turn as she watched the young soldier die. ‘I got to stop this!’ She thought frantically.
“Are you all cowards?” The giant leader shouted at the fleeing soldiers. “Is there anybody with enough courage to fight me?”
Murleen, with sword in hand, stepped forward and quietly answered, “I will.”
It took Flare a few minutes to locate another group of soldiers, and he joined with them. Together, they continued the search for more goblins.
They slowly worked their way back toward the western wall, looking and listening the whole way for any sign of the hiding goblins.
They saw and heard nothing.
Flare was once again becoming nervous, since they had not seen any sign of the goblins since his battle with the first two. Not for the last time, he wondered about the fight at the gates.
Moving through a side street, they heard the cling and clang of a battle. At first, he thought it was from the gates, but he then realized that it was northwest of his current position.
Together, Flare and the defenders rushed to where the battle was taking place.
They arrived at the battle, which was taking place in the shadow of the western wall, and he was both alarmed and relieved by the battle taking place before him. The goblins had banded together and were fighting the defenders in a pitched battle. Two goblins lay dead on the ground, but four more were still fighting. Unfortunately, the goblins were fighting quite well.
Six defenders were lying on the ground in their own blood. Flare couldn’t quite see if they were alive or not, but as bad as it sounded, he was more worried about the soldiers who were still fighting. Nine defenders were fighting against the goblins, although to Flare’s dismay, four of the nine defenders were townspeople.
The goblins had their backs to the western wall, daring the defenders to come within range of their scimitars. The goblins, seeing reinforcements approaching, decided it was time to take the offensive, and they charged the defenders.
The battle quickly turned into a disorganized melee.
Flare rushed towards the closest goblin. The goblin swung his scimitar at Flare, but Flare deflected it easily.
Flare then jabbed at the goblin, hoping that the goblin hadn’t recovered from the swing, and that he would catch him off guard. Instead, the goblin deflected Flare’s blow, and then surprised him by stabbing Flare’s left arm with a knife that the goblin had hidden in his left hand. The stab wound wasn’t bad, as Flare had raised his left arm hoping to block the blow, but instead the knife had slid into his arm.
He jerked back, and at the same time lowered his sword. The goblin, sensing his advantage, jumped forward to try and end the fight.
Flare continued to back up, when all of a sudden the goblin dropped dead, with a sword sticking out of his back.
Flare looked around; dazed and confused. A soldier had saved him by running the goblin through. The soldier had come to his aid and stabbed the goblin in the back.
Almost immediately, another goblin ran the soldier through with a scimitar.
The soldier dropped to the ground dead. Flare hadn’t even been able to thank him for saving his life. Disgust settled on him at the thought of all the lives that were being thrown away.
The goblin started to withdraw his sword from the body of the soldier, but Flare jumped toward him and brought a massive swing down on the goblins head, which exploded in a bloody gooey mess.
Flare knelt down on the ground and was sick. After several moments, he felt a little better, and he looked up to see how the fight went.
The goblins were all dead, as were quite a few of the defenders. There were four defenders still alive, all of them soldiers; several of them had also gotten sick.
“We killed two goblins before we got here.” Flare said to the soldiers. “With the six we killed here, that leaves one more to find.”
One of the soldiers spoke up, “But sir, we killed one several streets over. If there are only nine, then they’re all gone.”
“Are you sure?” Flare asked, excitedly.
“Yes sir. I helped kill him myself.” The soldier answered.
“All right. I want all of you to check the soldiers and townspeople. If any of them are alive, then take them to Kara. I have to get back to the gates.” Flare said. Wrapping his bloody left arm, he ran toward the battle at the gates.
The giant let out a long deep laugh. “Out of all these humans, the only one who is man enough to fight me is a woman?!” The giant said mockingly. “Tell me woman, what is your name?”
“Murleen, and you will not enter this fort as long am I am alive.” She answered with a defiance she didn’t feel. Gripping her sword with both hands, she stepped forward.
“Well, little woman. The name of the chieftain that will end your life is Antol-delgath.” The giant hefted his club and strode forward to meet Murleen.
The giant quickly raised the club over his head and brought it down in a powerful over hand swing. Murleen dove to the left, and rolling over popped back onto her feet. The giant’s club slammed into the dirt, and Murleen jumped forward trying to stab the giant. He jerked sideways away from Murleen, but her sword still caught him on his leg above the knee. A thin line of blood appeared to be oozing through the cut. The giant whipped his club toward Murleen, but she had already backed up out of range.
“The man who gets first blood was a woman this time.” Murleen said.
The giant only smiled at her, “You can have first blood, woman. I will have last blood.” The giant readjusted his grip on the club, and moved toward Murleen. This time he approached a little more cautiously. Suddenly, he drove toward her. He swung his club horizontally, and Murleen simply plunged to the ground and the club sailed over her head. Then, quickly rolling over she thrust her sword straight up into the air, hoping to cut the giant again. He was not there, however. Seeing her move, the giant had jumped back.
She slowly got back to her feet, facing the giant. She was feeling better, since she was holding her own. She could tell that the giant was frustrated. ‘Well, let’s keep him frustrated.’
The giant feinted to Murleen’s left, and then reversed himself and swung at her right side. Murleen had initially started to go right, but then when the giant reversed himself, she quickly tried to go back to her left. The move was correct, but she slipped in the dirt, and went down. She landed hard on the ground, and the sword flew out of her hand. She rolled over frantically looking for her sword, but the giant didn’t give her the chance to find it. He swung an immense overhand swing, and caught Murleen on the back, halfway between her waist and her shoulders.
Even if the spikes hadn’t impaled her, the force of the blow easily broke her back. She was dead even before the giant finished his swing.
The giant hefted his club back up, and rested it back on his shoulders. He kicked Murleen’s body, adding one final insult to the defeat.
Flare jogged back toward the gates; his arm aching slightly as he ran. He emerged from the northern street just in time to see the giant's swing and Murleen's death.
“NO!!” Flare screamed. Time seemed to stand still. The beating of his heart seemed like major explosions ringing in his ears. Everything in his sight receded except the body of Murleen lying in the dirt. Tears streamed down his face as the guilt of her death rushed over him.
Flare sunk to his knees in anguish.
The giant chi
eftain turned at Flare’s shout. His stomach shook as he laughed from deep inside his belly. “First you send a woman to fight me, and now you send an elf? Is there not a man among you?” Turning the chieftain raised his club above his head; his troops responded with cheering. “Death to the humans. Victory is ours!” The remaining giants were gathered just inside the gates, watching their leader.
Tears were running down his face, but Flare didn’t even notice. He could see only two things. The body of his lover lying broken in the dirt, and the monster that had taken her life.
Climbing to his feet; Flare drew his sword. He strode forward with the tears still on his face. He didn't even realize there were tears, nor would he have cared. “You have killed the only woman that ever meant anything to me.” He said quietly. He spoke so quietly, that the only one who clearly heard what was said was Antol-delgath.
The giant was clearly unimpressed. “Do you think that you can kill me little elf? I think that the woman had a better chance than you.” A hideous grin split his face.
Flare could feel nothing. Even death seemed insignificant. He could feel the beating of his own heart as he gripped his sword with both hands. A calm serenity descended on him. With something resembling joy he realized that he couldn’t lose. Win the battle and he would avenge his lover. Lose the battle and he would join his lover, at least he hoped he would.
He moved toward the giant slowly circling to the right as he got closer. At the same time, the giant circled to Flare’s left. They seemed to be judging each other’s ability.
The giant lunged forward and swung his club in a ferocious horizontal swing.
Flare’s elven reflexes were the only thing that saved him. He dropped to the ground, landing on his stomach. He immediately rolled over coming to his feet. He gripped his sword with both hands and swung it in a horizontal swing mimicking the giant’s.
The giant was caught off guard, and barely managed to deflect the sword with his club. The sword clanged against one of the metal spikes that protruded through the club's end.
Antol-delgath was enraged by Flare’s near miss. He raised the club over his head and slammed it on the spot where Flare had been standing mere moments before, but Flare dodged to the right just before the club struck.
Landing hard on his right side, Flare rolled over; jumping to his feet. The giant was still lifting the hefty club, and Flare jabbed forward with his sword. The giant was unprepared, and Flare’s jab cut his exposed left arm just below the elbow.
The giant bellowed in pain. The cut was deep and nasty. Already, a stream of deep red blood was running down his arm.
“First blood belongs to me,” Flare said.
“Doesn't matter,” the giant answered. “The woman had first blood also. You see what it got her.” The giant spat in the direction of Murleen’s body. “Care to join her?”
“Yes,” Flare answered softly, “but not today.”
The giant grunted, and swung his club at Flare again. This time, however, the swing was much more controlled. He didn’t want to get off-balance again.
Flare jumped back, and swung his sword at the club. He was trying to deflect it, just to make contact.
CLANG! Flare's sword bounced off of the spikes, and the club sailed past him.
The giant reversed his motion and swung his club in the opposite direction, hoping to catch Flare jabbing. Flare was not fooled, and backed up again out of the way of the club.
The giant, showing surprising quickness, raised the club over his head and jumping forward, brought the club down where Flare had been standing. The club maid a tremendous sound as it impacted into the ground.
Flare dodged quickly to the left of the club, and before the swing was even complete he charged the giant, hoping to catch him off guard.
The giant was surprised, and Flare slammed his sword straight at the giant’s belly. The sword ricocheted off of the giant’s armor, and slid downward slicing the outside part of his thigh.
Once again blood ran freely, but this time Flare did not get away unscathed.
Even as the giant screamed, he swung his club upward from the ground to his right. The club slammed into Flare knocking him to the ground and sending his sword flying. Flare had been too close to the giant to get hit by the fat part of the club, but he was still knocked senseless.
Flare lay on the ground, trying to catch his breath. The giant was between him and the defenders, and Flare’s sword was on the far side of the giant.
The giant, although wounded, was mocking the defenders. “See! There is no one who can stand against Antol-delgath.” He shouted at the defenders, as he pounded himself on the chest.
The giant walked back over to Flare, and said, “Say hello to the girl.” The giant then kicked Flare in the stomach.
Flare curled up in pain from the giant’s kick.
The giant seemed to be enjoying tormenting both Flare and the crowd. He turned back to the crowd and shouted something else at them. Flare didn’t hear him, because all he could hear was the thudding in his ears. The pain in his stomach was intense.
Flare looked frantically for his sword, but it was too far out of his reach. Looking toward the gates, and the other giants, he spotted Murleen’s sword where she had dropped it. It was no more than four or five feet from him. He reached for it, but it was well out of reach.
Lying on the ground, panting, Flare didn’t have the energy to crawl toward the sword. He thought about giving up. It would end quickly if he just laid here. Soon, he would be reunited with Murleen, and this would all be behind him. He considered giving in, and dismissed the idea. He would die, but not without fighting.
He had to get that sword and quickly. Panting and with his stomach throbbing, he started crawling for the sword.
The giant had finished shouting at the defenders, and he was turning back toward him.
There was no way Flare would reach the sword in time. He reached for the sword, and at the same time he visualized the sword sliding across the sand to him. His skin prickled, and for just a moment time seemed to slow down almost to a stop. He could hear not only his own labored breathing, but that of the giant and the other warriors. His senses were magnified beyond his ability to understand. He could smell the sweat of the warriors, and hear their muffled whispers.
The thing that stood out to Flare was the sword. He could see it like he had never seen it before. From several feet away, he could see the tiniest speck of dirt sitting on the blade. He could see the lines in the leather, which was rapped around the handle. He even could see a tiny crack in the hilt of the sword. All of this happened in a flash.
One minute, the sword was four feet from him, and there was no chance of him reaching it. Then, in his mind’s eye, Flare saw the sword sliding across the ground to him. He wasn’t sure if he actually saw the sword slide or if he just imagined it, but the next thing he felt was the cold leather of the handle as it slid into his right hand. He sat up facing the giant.
The giant turned from the defenders with an evil smile on his face. A smile that quickly disappeared when he saw Flare with a sword in his hand.
Flare acted quickly, before the giant had a chance to recover. He swung the sword and hit the giant on the outside of the giant’s right thigh. It was the same spot that he had cut the giant before.
The giant howled in agony and hopped away. The giant stood on his left leg, while he held his hand over the cut on his right leg.
Flare crawled behind him and in one swift motion he sliced the hamstring in the giant’s left leg. The giant collapsed onto his back.
A deathly quiet settled over the onlookers.
Flare staggered to his feet; looking down on the giant.
Sensing danger, the giant rolled over onto his stomach and tried to crawl away.
“For Murleen,” Flare whispered. He took a step closer to the giant, and he swung the sword with both hands, and hit the giant in the back of the neck. The swing completely decapitated the giant. The head rolled aw
ay, while the body poured blood and spasmed.
He stood for a moment looking at the giant. Thoughts of Murleen flowed through his mind. After several moments, Flare allowed himself to look at Murleen’s body. The pain felt like a stab to his heart. The pain was quickly replaced with an anger that was so intense that he could think of nothing else.
He turned back to the crowd of invaders. The giants were nearest, but there were a large number of goblins behind them. They were all quiet; staring in shock at the death of their leader.
“For Murleen.” Flare whispered.
Swinging Murleen’s sword, Flare let out a heart stopping scream and charged the attackers.
Giants aren’t too bright, and they had just seen their ‘invincible’ leader killed. They simply turned and fled; trampling a lot of the goblins in the process.
The first attacker, that Flare reached, was a goblin. He didn’t even slow down, running the goblin through with Murleen’s sword as he pursued the giants through the gates.
Things quickly turned into a blur of slashing swords and bleeding monsters for Flare. He was completely consumed by the blood lust, consumed by the hate. All that mattered was killing and hurting as many of the attackers as he could. Injury and pain did not matter. His body did not matter. He cared for nothing but finding another victim.
Chapter 16
“Flare?!” A voice called.
The sound broke through Flare’s concentration. He was looking down at the body of a goblin. It looked like the goblin had been cut more than was necessary to kill him. He didn’t even remember having killed the goblin.
“Flare?!” The voice called again from behind him. It was Atock. “Are you injured?”
Flare looked down, and only then realizing that he was covered in blood. “I don’t think I’m hurt.” He looked around at the carnage, “Atock, I don’t remember the fight.”
The Guardians: Book One of the Restoration Series Page 28