The king’s side then returned the bow, albeit with quite a bit more clumsiness and disharmony. Derlin waited to see what would happen next, and saw that both sides rose to their feet. They then walked around and entered into normal conversation, and Derlin saw that all of the tension that he had earlier felt was gone. King Garkin went forward and greeted the elven king, and the two began to talk like the old friends that they were.
Tarthur and Derlin for their part began to talk to Dalin. Derlin told himself that he would go and talk to that girl, but as soon as he said so he knew that he wouldn’t. He looked over and saw her talking with some other girls, and embarrassed, resorted to speaking with Dalin.
Tarthur was going over their story again and filling in details that he had forgotten to tell Dalin in their first recollection at his tree. Derlin wasn’t interested much in the talk, and he was ashamed to find his gaze meandering over to the girl. He couldn’t help himself. He just let her beauty take him and amaze him.
Once the girl looked over. Derlin quickly averted his gaze, but he had a feeling that she saw the crimson rush to his cheeks. It was just a look, but it made Derlin feel like a desperate criminal, made him feel guilty for stealing it, as if his gaze might profane her perfection. All of a sudden, she started walking to where the three friends were in conversation. Derlin couldn’t have wished for anything more in the world, but he felt embarrassed, trapped, and looked for a place to hide. Too late, she was upon them.
“Oh, hi,” Dalin said casually, noticing the girl for the first time. “I’m sorry, I forgot that you don’t know each other. This is Tarthur, and this is Derlin. They were a big help on my trip, and are very powerful and wise men.” While doubting its veracity somewhat, Derlin secretly rejoiced over the introduction. And he was infinitely thankful to Dalin for saying men, not boys. Dalin continued the half of the introduction that Derlin most wanted to know. “And this is Valena, Princess of the Elves, my sister.”
FREETON FOREVER
Yonathan looked up from his desk and the paperwork that he was filling out to see the messenger who arrived at his door. The big man nodded, and the messenger relayed his message. “General Cilio and his army will arrive within three days’ time. They hope to find as much food and water as you can spare, and you are asked to plant your seed as soon as possible, as an early harvest may be needed to combat food shortages on the northern front.” Yonathan nodded again. He had expected as much. After healing, he had decided to travel north with the army to Breshen to assist Tarthur and Derlin in their cause. The whole town owed their lives to those two boys, and after getting to know them, Yonathan believed any cause they were willing to support he was willing to die for. But when the army had split, he had come south with General Cilio to assist in the defense of his hometown. He had hurried ahead of the slower moving army and had been back in Freeton one night. It felt good to take up his job as assistant mayor. He only hoped that the war with the Death Lord would end soon and he could come back to take up his position permanently. Freeton was growing in population and prosperity in just the few weeks he had been gone. They had been slaves before, and a freed slave is the last one to lack incentive.
As Yonathan got up from his desk to survey the grounds, he was struck and overwhelmed again by the optimism of the people. He would not have thought that a people so deeply scarred and so burned by their past would be so quick to recover, but everywhere they were playing and working with unbounded joy. Kandan Ironsmith was a favorite and a good choice for mayor. All of the people of Freeton loved him dearly, and since the time of his election they had been building new houses and business as people moved in from neighboring towns and the countryside.
A shout abruptly brought Yonathan out of his delightful reverie. The watchman was screaming something, and as Yonathan turned his gaze southward, he saw. On the southern horizon, a sprawling mass of Marhyn’s troops was coming toward them across the plain.
Yonathan rushed to Kandan’s office, where many of the men were already gathered. Kandan rose to greet him when he came. “Thank you for coming, Yonathan. It is up to us to decide what to do and how to combat this menace.”
Yonathan nodded. “I have just received word from General Cilio. He and his army will be here in three days if they continue traveling at a normal pace. I recommend that we immediately send the fastest messenger to alert them and to beg them to hurry.” Kandan nodded at the obvious wisdom of the idea and pointed to a young man who had been preparing for just such an incident. The young man ran to get his horse and be on his way.
“I have received reports that the enemy is nearly two hundred strong, so this must mean that it is just an advance party and the bulk of the army is situated elsewhere.”
Yonathan pondered a moment and then suggested, “Why don’t we leave? No man wants to lose his home, but it is at least better than his life.”
Kandan shook his head no. “This town means too much to us. We have just rebuilt it. We have all suffered here. We will stand. Besides, our main grain fields are located just north of the town. They are vital to the war effort. We can’t take the chance that they will be destroyed, or worse yet fall into enemy hands.”
Yonathan sighed and then nodded. “Two days. We can hope that they will not reach us until tomorrow, and then we will have to repulse them for two days. How many men can we count on in fighting condition?”
“Sixty or seventy. The women and children will also be able to help out.” Yonathan was almost afraid to ask the next question. “Weapons?”
Kandan sighed. “Twenty or thirty swords, a few spears and pikes, and the rest will have to make do with captured weapons or farming instruments.”
It was as bad as he thought. He wanted to suggest that they at least evacuate the women and children, but he knew it would be futile. They would all stand together. Yonathan tried to lighten things up with a half joke. “They have just about every advantage, don’t they?”
Kandan was stone serious. “They’re not fighting for their homes. We will be ready. We will drive these monstrous invaders back to the sea.”
Dawn broke on the following day, bright and clear. A hint of spring was in the air, a hint of freshness and beginnings, of a chance to start anew. How ironic, Yonathan thought. He was hiding in the bushes with his group of fifteen men, eagerly awaiting the attack he knew was sure to come at any time. Kandan had divided their force into two groups of fifteen men each and one big group of the thirty or so who remained. Kandan had stayed with the big group who were stationed in the town center. Yonathan and Uris, who commanded the two groups of fifteen, had taken their respective men and had hidden in the trees to either side of the town. Their plan was to draw the attacking enemy into the town center. The group in the center of the town would try to draw the enemy forward and into a line, then Kandan and Uris would bring their groups simultaneously into the exposed sides of the army. There was a group of houses that blocked off the center of the town. They hoped to use these to cut the opposing force in half and then destroy the half that they had surrounded. Yonathan had a flint that he could use to ignite the houses into a huge conflagration, and they had already been soaked with kerosene. If these were ignited, the extreme heat could push the rest of the army back and let the defenders face better odds inside of the town center. If they fought well, and didn’t lose too many men, then they might be able to repulse the rest and face better odds on the next day. If…
The deep and guttural sound of the goblin trumpets broke through the early morning stillness and shattered the peace. It was time for war.
Yonathan watched stoically as the first ranks of the advancing army came forward. It alternated rows of ten men with rows of ten goblins. They all wore black tunics and had an array of different swords. It appeared that at least the army was not standardized, and that gave Yonathan a faint glimmer of hope that they were undisciplined and would be easily defeated. But even this pale ray of optimism went out when he saw how well synchronized they looked when th
ey marched.
On the order of the commander, the first group broke ranks and charged into the town center looking for money and possessions and women. Yonathan gripped his sword tighter in furious anticipation when he thought of the latter. None of these foul beasts would touch the women of Freeton. Soon they reached Kandan, and the brave blacksmith-mayor screamed their battle cry, “Freeton Forever!” When he heard those words, Yonathan and the rest of his group felt a tingling down their spines. Yonathan was so proud he got goose bumps. They would win this day!
Kandan charged into the first rank of the enemy who was surprised to see any resistance. Kandan sliced his huge broadsword down on a goblin’s neck, sending his head rolling. Then he charged forward and plunged his sword into the next attacker, ripped the dripping blade free, and charged after the closest enemy. By this time, the enemy had recovered from its initial shock, and they were now starting to use their superior numbers by massing together so they could protect each other. Still there were confrontations all about as fighters from Freeton infiltrated their ranks. A mercenary soldier swung his blade at the head of a boy of no more than ten or twelve. The boy ducked and then reached forward, grabbed the soldier’s own dagger and then plunged it into his heart. A goblin charged at the boy from his right, and the boy pulled free the dagger and sent it flying into the goblin’s chest. The goblin screamed in pain, then toppled over. Another goblin came at the boy from behind, swinging a huge spiked mace into his skull, crushing it. The boy slumped lifeless to the ground.
Eleven. That was how many columns Yonathan finally decided to let through before he ordered his and Uris’s forces to move in and seal off the retreat of the larger army, surrounding them and then attacking them from their back. He was debating, as the original plan had been to allow nine columns, but now he felt that they would be able to handle it and give them a better chance to hold out the next day or even win the battle before nightfall. “Freeton Forever!” Yonathan screamed as the eleventh column began to join the attack. He heard the cry repeated two hundred meters in front of him and saw Uris and his group charge into the flanks of the enemy.
Yonathan rushed forward and hit the flint. It took a while to give a spark, but when it finally did, the houses ignited quickly. The other ninety troops of Marhyn’s army were cut off and useless to their companions.
Superior knowledge of the terrain and what houses could give cover gave the fighters from Freeton the advantage. Soon Yonathan and his men, including a few on horseback, were slicing through the sides of the enemy. A goblin tried to attack him with his short sword, but the big man smashed his shield down on the unfortunate creature’s arm, breaking it. The burly Yonathan picked up the goblin in his hairy, muscular arms, and threw him full force into another attacker who was charging forward with a drawn sword.
The goblin landed on the blade, bowled the attacker over, and lay howling on the ground. Before Yonathan could blink, Kandan was there to finish them both off.
Uris’s group was having a harder time as the battle shifted. A group of the frightened enemy had broken off from the first thrust and were attempting to rejoin the main group who had not attacked yet as they were separated and waiting until the fires died down. Uris and his group were trying to prevent them from doing so by killing as many as they could and driving the rest toward the other Freeton forces. They were having moderate success.
“Oh dear,” mumbled the often-forgetful Uris as he fumbled through his leather purse while two goblins charged straight at him. “I know it was in here somewhere. Ah yes, here it is. Derse, Yreds, fewtersd, and POW!”
One thing about Uris’s spells was that they rarely turned out the way he planned them. The spell did not produce the intended effect of sending a ball of flame into the monsters, but it did at least singe their eyebrows. The goblins fell back in pain, and did not break through the line.
As the day wore on, the inexperience and lack of a heart to fight in Marhyn’s army caused the defenders to win and destroy over half of the invading force before the day was through. It was not as if they had no will to fight, for it was plain that they fought for gold, and with the Dark Lady as their commander, they knew that they were probably better off to give their life on the field than to fail. But the heart of fighters like Yonathan and Kandan prevailed in the end. They settled into an uneasy sleep by the fire at the end of that day when they were once again sleeping in their own beds that they had worked for and made. They were grateful that now only ninety of the enemy force remained, and now everyone in Freeton had weapons including bows and arrows which they had taken from the slain invaders. But there were only thirty men in Freeton alive who could do any kind of fighting. They had fought a brilliant battle to reduce the odds from one to four to one to three. They had fought to keep alive for one more day, after which Cilio and his army would arrive and crush Marhyn’s piddling expedition force. Yonathan stayed up late thinking of just how to give them that one more chance that they needed.
The people of Freeton increased their numbers the next day by stationing those unable to fight in the upper rooms of the houses. Armed with the captured bows and arrows, they could wait and pick off targets at their leisure. Ninety men and goblins was a lot to kill, Yonathan realized grimly, but it was still possible. The men of Freeton had slept in watches that night, and exhausted though they were, they had not slept idly. There would be enough time for rest later. That night they had built fortifications along the edge of the town where the enemy would have to attack first. They also moved any valuables they had into the rear houses. Yonathan knew that it was inevitable that more of the houses would be sacked and looted. There were just too many of the enemy to do anything about it, but they would fight bitterly and give nothing away. The enemy would purchase every inch of territory with blood.
The attack began the next day in much the same way as the first. The men of Freeton wearily manned their stations, and then came to life as they heard the battle cries breaking the early morning stillness. While their physical strength and endurance had waned from the day before, their determination still burned strong. Soon the attackers were at the first obstacles. The hastily constructed barricades were never really intended to stop the enemy, one could easily tell as much by their ragged appearance. Their only purpose was to attempt to slow their advance, and give General Cilio enough time to get his army there. Yonathan knew that Cilio would get his army there quickly, but how much time would they need to hold off the attackers? Probably until the end of the day.
Yonathan was jostled out of his reverie by the first onslaught of the enemy. A black clad man was attempting to climb his barricade, which was nearly five feet tall. The barricades were like an interconnected fence that the people of Freeton had made from timber on hand in the village. The prosperity of the village had induced many people from the surrounding countryside to move in, and therefore there was much timber that was being used to construct their houses free to use in the barricades. That had been a stroke of good luck indeed.
Yonathan brought his sword swinging down towards the man, who quickly rolled out of the way. Yonathan’s huge broadsword dug into the barricade, almost knocking it down. He pulled it free, and then hopped down to combat the man on foot. The man swung his own sword, but Yonathan parried it to the side and then swung his huge fist into the man’s nose. Yonathan stepped forward and with a wide downward slice that glittered in the sun, finished the job.
The barricade held two hours. The attacking force seemed stronger and more prepared than they had the day before. This time they brought not only goblins and men, but some fierce ogres and trolls as well. Though only about ten in number, they were big and heavily armed. They also took a lot of punishment to bring down. On his right, Kandan Ironsmith was engaged with one of the monsters. Kandan rushed forward, slicing his sword into the ogre’s thigh. The ogre swung a menacing-looking club at Kandan’s shoulder, but the nimble blacksmith quickly ducked out of the way. Kandan came up, stabbing his sword direct
ly into the creature’s bowels. This time the fierce ogre screamed in pain as it doubled over. Still it was not finished. Kandan swung his broadsword to decapitate the creature, but it flung up its right arm in a last ditch attempt to save itself. Kandan’s blade bit into the tough skin of the monster’s armored forearm, but at the same time the monster swung his other clawed hand down on Kandan’s right arm. Kandan screamed as the heavy claw with its grotesque and putrid yellow nails cut deeply into his heavily muscled arm. His right was his blacksmith arm. Undaunted, and grimacing in pain, Kandan brought his sword straight down and sliced open the monster’s skull. A black and green slime oozed from the wound and over the creature’s lifeless face.
That day Kandan and Yonathan fought as men possessed. Shaking from a mixture of pain from many wounds and unquenchable rage, the two relentlessly dispatched fighter after fighter of the opposing army. They were merciless and unfeeling. The years of pain from the wizard and the fresh attack on their town had taken all emotion from their souls, leaving them numbed and empty, with only anger to fill the void. They sliced through the enemy, in a cloud of callousness. The screams of the men they killed did not even pierce their bubble, so aloof were they. They mowed men down like wheat, maiming, cutting off heads, legs, arms, whatever presented itself, and they always finished the job.
The battle was wearing on past noon and into the afternoon hours. With each passing moment, it became more and more likely that Cilio and his army would reach them in time and save the town. Already a few houses on the fringe had been destroyed, but the people of the town were making good use of their knowledge of the terrain. Kandan rushed forward and confronted a troll that was using his heavy mace to smash apart a house. The troll swung his mace for Kandan and Kandan reached up his sword to block it. The mace had a spiked ball at the end of a chain by which it was connected to the main shaft. Kandan blocked the shaft, but the ball wrapped around and slammed into Kandan’s right arm. Full of rage, Kandan jumped forward, kicking the troll’s knee with his heavy boot, shattering it. Kandan rushed forward as the creature fell to the ground, viciously hacking at it with his sword. Kandan screamed unintelligible words, as he kept stabbing and slicing at the creature. Fueled by anger, killing it wasn’t enough. He hacked at its body until it was no longer anything even vaguely recognizable, a tangled mass of broken bones, torn flesh and green blood. Through tears, he turned to the next enemy.
Lands of Daranor: Book 01 - DreamQuest Page 24