Fury of Molith (Fengysha Series Book 2)

by Jordan Cramm

  Well that went well enough. But now I am in the hornet's nest directly. Don't get stung Eklar...don't get stung. He hid his true emotions and thoughts of vengeance for the moment. Tracking the Dwarven army had not been too difficult, nor was infiltrating it disguised as one of them. Still, he knew the timing wasn't right just yet to strike. Besides that, if he did strike at the moment, he knew he would have thousands of angry Dwarves coming down on him, no matter who he really was. It was a fate Lord Eklar did not yet want to risk. Even with a cave ram, he knew they would follow him, they would catch him, and they would kill him. Don't get stung.

  The Dwarven army marched for the span of about five chimes after that before stopping to rest. The army was told to take some water, as well as eat to recover their strength. Another few chimes after all would see them on the battlefront, a thing Lord Eklar was keenly aware of as he recalled Wolflen's maps in his head. The army had marched mercilessly for days already. It was clear they had no time for long breaks, or pauses along the way, and this particular break would be no different.

  Still, as they stopped, both Dwarven Kings, as well as those riding with them dismounted briefly.

  “Go on Frip,” King Gral grumbled, “there should be some food and canteens in the saddlebags there.”

  “Sire are these not the things of your officer?”

  “Not anymore. I admire your bravery back there, and your willingness to be bold. Our kingdom needs more Dwarves like you.”

  “Thank you sire,” Lord Eklar replied, “I...I don't know what to say.”

  “Say nothing then. Just eat while you can.”

  Lord Eklar nodded and began rifling through the saddlebags of the cave ram he now rode. It was an animal as smelly as the Dwarves themselves he thought. And just as ugly. Still, he had been hungry, and so after finding some dried meats, he pulled some from the saddlebag and began to eat quickly. As for drinking, he kept to his own flagon that he still carried. As much as the idea of the ale sounded bad to him, he thought it might help him stay in character pretending to be a Dwarf. After his second swig however, he was surprised to see the King's own hand stop him.

  “No ale now,” Gral grunted, “We need clear heads for battle. There will be plenty of drinking after.”

  Lord Eklar simply nodded his agreement and corked the flagon once more before finding a water canteen in the saddlebag. So they actually do have times of sobriety? Fancy that.

  “How much further do you think?” he asked of the King.

  “Not long now,” King Gral returned, “less than half day's ride. We know where the group is, and we hope to catch them now already battle-worn and off guard.”

  “We kill them all right?”

  “We shall see. Anxious for more blood already?”

  “I was born for it sire.”

  “You truly are a wily one, I will give you that. My job however is to get them off this continent. Death is of course the easiest way to accomplish that, but just the same, if they will consent to turning over their officers to me, I may let the others live and retreat before we sack the city of Elender. After all, why should I sacrifice so many Dwarves on their behalf?”

  “Sire forgive me,” Lord Eklar retorted, “but I meant what I said before. If they won't bend the knee, they should be put to grass. Is this not the Dwarven continent of Molith?” Lord Eklar asked as he got closer to whisper, “And it is well known that you are the strongest King of Molith. I say any foreign visitors owe you homage or should be cut down.”

  King Gral smiled before answering quietly.

  “Best to keep that last bit in your head Frip. No need to provoke Brosha or his men. If someone has to die in a battle to come, I will need them.”

  Lord Eklar smiled. He knew he was easily playing the one Dwarven King against the other, and he knew it was easy because Gral had ambitions of his own that went the same way. In “Frip”, King Gral felt he found a kindred spirit, one that would follow him without question and could help create spectacles for the people when they needed to be swayed one way or another. King Gral knew that much already by his earlier display.

  “All right,” Gral shouted as Brosha mounted himself, “we press on.”

  Lord Eklar grinned. He would be constantly looking for the right time to make his move, but he knew the moment had not arrived yet. Besides, now he was having fun seeing that he could play one against the other of the two Kings.

  ~

  Wolflen had ordered that the entirety of the remaining force gather on one side of the Spires, knowing the Dwarves would arrive from the opposite direction. They did their best to set up new barricades and trenches for digging in where and when they could when the time arrived. There was hardly any black powder left, so the idea of fire was for the most part out of the question, save for what Wolflen and other Mages could muster on their own. Still, he knew like himself, that all of them were already battle-worn, fatigued, and possibly disheartened.

  They had managed to overcome the Werewolf horde, which had been no small feat by any means. It was a victory won through blood, and through perseverance, but it had taken a toll on each of them in the process he knew.

  Wolflen asked again if King Janureen would reconsider and begin a fast march back toward Elender, but the King again refused. Wolflen felt like he was running out of options, knowing that a battle now would not go well for them, no matter how much magic he could still muster now.

  It was growing dark now as twilight had fallen. The sun was in the west, behind the hill that the Dwarves suddenly crested, coming into view. Wolflen got a chill that ran down his spine when he thought about his most recent dream. The sun was at their backs, and now the fading sun is at their backs here. Their clamor was great, for each of them shouted and banged their weapons against their shields. Wolflen took a deep breath as he stood at the front of his groups formation. Katrina was with him atop Sespa, and Ayvock was at his side now on a fresh horse, while King Janureen was directly behind him next to Jakarta. Each was tense. Each knew that full fledged battle could be simply a few breaths away.

  Wolflen sat and raised a makeshift white flag in his hand as he rode forward. On the other side, King Gral, King Brosha, and a few of their officers (including newly appointed Lord Eklar) rode toward them in equal fashion, and together they met in the middle of the great Spire formation. Wolflen took a deep breath as he looked on, watching the riders approach from the opposite side.

  “I am King Gral,” Gral noted plainly, “and this here is King Brosha. You all are trespassing in Dwarven lands.”

  “I am Wolflen Darkmoon, Steward of Akartha and War Mage of our people. With me are my top advisors, M'lady Katrina, Ayvock there, King Janureen of the Elves of Orenty, and his First Knight, Jakarta. We came to your lands not for a fight with the Dwarves, but tracking a horde of Werewolves that also trespassed your lands as you say. We vanquished them absent Dwarven aid. In fact we sent an envoy your way in hopes of reaching an alliance with your people.”

  “There will be no alliance this time I'm afraid. As for your envoy, we received none. All the same topsider, here we are now. I see your people are battle ready. Were we expected?”

  Wolflen knew that King Gral was lying about receiving an envoy, and so in turn decided to employ his own deception now.

  “We have been on edge as you can imagine,” Wolflen replied, “we suffered many losses recently. Besides that, we were warned by a group of Dwarves unknown to us that an army marched this way. I hoped it would be to negotiate terms of an alliance.”

  “As I said War Mage, there will be no alliance. I see your group there gathered. I am guessing by what you tell me, you do not want more fallen allies in this. Perhaps you haven't even the stomach to keep fighting this day.”

  “You may be right King Gral. If no alliance can be reached, can we then at least have peace? I promise we will leave your lands just as soon as we are able. Each of us can quit this field knowing no more blood had to be shed here. What do you say?”

/>   “I say,” King Gral grumbled, “that I have terms of my own.”

  “Okay?” Wolflen asked, “What are your terms then?”

  “First, you will surrender to me personally...you and those with you here now. Your officers I mean. Secondly, for the crimes of trespassing and shedding of blood in Dwarven lands, you will hand over the top 100 ranking officials among your group. If you do that, the rest of your soldiers are free to leave just as fast as they can. Otherwise, there will be war here today, and it will be your blood that stains these grounds.”

  Wolflen took a deep breath.

  “I see,” Wolflen stated, “May I have a breath of time to talk this over with my officers? I am no King like you, and I must consider many voices when making such weighty decisions. I give you my word no one will try to run. I wouldn't want to be run down by the force of your army anyway. But if you allow me an interval to speak with my men, I will return to you quickly with a decision. Is that agreeable?”

  “Why not?” King Gral said smugly, “We both know it is the only choice you have unless every man back there wants to be dead before morning. Go, have your meeting, but I give you less than a chime to return. Meanwhile my army will move up to where we are...in case your decision is an unwise one.”

  “That's fair,” Wolflen offered, “and I will be as quick as I can King Gral. However this turns out you have my respect.”

  “So be it. Go to your meeting and return quickly. We will be waiting.”

  “And you best come to the right choice,” Lord Eklar chimed in abruptly, “because Ole' Frip would love to bloody his axe again today.”

  Wolflen looked at the one who spoke, as did Ayvock, but they did not give away the gambit with their glances. Clearly though, Lord Eklar had managed to infiltrate the group as planned. Unfortunately, there was no way to communicate with him privately now, seeing as he rode with the enemy.

  Wolflen nodded and turned Sespa around. Those with him did the same and even followed as quickly after him as he rode back to his tent.

  ~

  “Look there is only one thing to do here and you guys know it,” Wolflen said, “and I am sorry but I am willing to risk it. King Janureen you and your people wouldn't flee before, and this is what we are left with. It's not ideal mind you, but it's the only way.”

  “How can it be the only way?” King Janureen asked.

  “Because the alternative is fighting and dying to the last man. I don't know about any of you in here, but I don't want to be the next one on a pyre tonight. This is workable. At least this way, your people—our people will live.”

  “Anyone who surrenders will likely be executed,” Ayvock added, “so we have to choose here. Take the risk, or watch everyone out there get slaughtered.”

  “Little one? What do you say?” King Janureen asked.

  “I don't like it much,” she replied, “but my husband is right. It is the only way. Maybe we get lucky and Lord Eklar will land a strike at a crucial time, who knows.”

  “And you Jakarta? What does my First Knight advise here?”

  “Sire I am in agreement with Lord Darkmoon. Think of how many will be saved by this act.”

  “Very well,” King Janureen said at last, “I will go inform the officers. I hope you are right about this Lord Darkmoon. Everything depends on it.”

  Wolflen nodded. He had laid out his plans clearly, and now there was but one choice that made sense. He kissed Katrina gently as he left the tent, even telling Sespa to stay behind. Then alone, he walked back to where King Gral waited. As promised, his army had moved up. Now more than two thirds of them were standing inside the Spires area, awaiting word.

  As Wolflen approached, King Gral looked on. He began to chide Wolflen on approach, even though Wolflen kept his hands in the air and he appeared unarmed.

  “I take it then,” King Gral began, “that your council decided to have war?”

  “Not exactly,” Wolflen remarked.

  “What, asking for more time then?”

  “Not quite that either. I am here now to accept your surrender.”

  King Gral let out a bellow of a laugh, as did the others close in his company. He even pointed at Wolflen and said that he had some nerve.

  “Look around you boy,” Lord Gral sneered, “you are outnumbered and heavily outmatched. What gives you the madness that makes you think you can ask for MY surrender? Is it Izenian Rum lad? Speak up lad before I split your foggin head open.”

  “I've looked around King Gral. And I assure you I am not mad. But have you looked around lately?”

  King Gral turned his head left and right, trying to discern what Wolflen might be talking about. Still, he found no one or nothing that seemed threatening to him to speak of.

  “All I see is the Elven force before me lad, and they each about to die.”

  “It's a shame you won't surrender King Gral. We could have been allies.”

  “We will not ally with the weak such as you.”

  “You know Gral, you piece of grum...I was just thinking the same thing…..NOW!”

  All around, Elven officers had taken to the Spires to activate them, and at once they began glowing with a blue hue of energy. Gral and the others looked on, not knowing what was happening, and suddenly being struck by a fear of the unknown. That's when Lord Eklar saw his moment of opportunity. Just before the portal activated, whisking them all to Izendune, as he sat close to King Gral atop his own cave ram, he drew his own poison-covered dagger and drove it deep into King Gral's leg before retrieving it again.

  In an flash of blue shimmer, everyone caught in the portal-way was instantly transported to Izendune. It was daylight there, and Mortican's soldiers were there within the fort they had constructed around the Ring of Izen. Now the foolish Dwarves were caught in their sights, and arrows of fire began to rain down on all of them. In the same moment, Wolflen reached and grabbed for Lord Eklar, telling him to shut his eyes. They were whisked away by his own teleportation magic, back to Molith, leaving thousands of Dwarves to fight off Mortican's men on Izendune, who had a defended position and the stronghold. Back on Molith, the Elves rallied, and in short time finished off the Dwarves there that had not been standing within the Spire area when the others were transported away.

  It became a victory for the Elves, having to deal with only about a thousand remaining Dwarves. When it was over, many of the Dwarves began to flee, and the Elves refused to give chase. They had all seen enough of war for the time being, and now looked to calmer travels.

  Chapter 31: Farewell For Now

  The days that followed were calmer than the few days that had come before. Everyone continued to mourn those that had fallen, but rejoiced at their victories on Molith. The whole affair had been bittersweet in that way. Now, Wolflen and Katrina were hosting a last send-off in their tent with their council, while the rest of the camp made final preparations to leave. Many had left already, as various caravans left at different times. Wolflen knew he would be the last to leave. He might not have been able to bring everyone home, but he had been first into Elender, and knew it was right that he not leave until the other survivors be on their way first

  “It was impressive, I admit,” King Janureen stated, “that it actually worked I mean. It was a brilliant plan though.”

  “Yes well let's face it,” Wolflen replied, “Mortican has been one step ahead of us all along. We have been chasing him here, or moving there as he has wanted. He wanted our alliances broken. Instead, he and his men got handed the Dwarves to deal with.”

  “Who do you think won that battle?” Katrina asked.

  “My money would be on Mortican. Who knows if he was actually there or not, but he had an army there sure enough, and they wasted no time unleashing terror on the Dwarves. They were caught completely off guard.”

  “Yes well,” Lord Eklar said, now in his normal Elvish form again, “that arrow I took to the leg won't soon be forgotten.”

  “Sorry Lord Eklar,” Wolflen returned, “
I put up my shields around us as soon as I could.”

  “Well I am glad it worked all the same. Scars are just scars. Wounds heal. But now Mortican can deal with that little maneuver. No doubt he will be stewing over it for some time.”

  “Count on it,” Jakarta remarked, “he is not a forgiving sort of man.”

  “Speaking of which,” Ayvock said, “he sent you Lord Eklar to kill Raven here. Is that out of your system now, or shall you and I at last have a go at each other?”

  “I'm over that Ayvock. Sheesh, I figured my showing in stabbing Gral after infiltrating his group would at least earn me some trust. It was a poison dagger after all, and even if Mortican's forces don't kill him, he will die within days…..foggin bastard. But doesn't that earn me some level of trust here at this council?”

  “It takes time,” Ravenshade interjected, “after you have made a big mistake. But trust me Lord Eklar, it's worth the wait.”

  Katrina smiled and commented, “That's right. Besides, if you do make attempt on her life you will have to choose between Ayvock's sword or one of my arrows.”

  “Oooh,” Wolflen remarked, “both could be a miserable day for anyone on the receiving end.”

  “Yeah yeah,” Lord Eklar said as he stood and neared the tent exit, “well I would say I have things to pack, but I came here with very little. Still, I think I will join the caravan that is leaving for Elender now if no one minds. I guess I will see you when we disembark.”

  “Yes Lord Darkmoon,” King Janureen said, “what is next now? Do you wish us to all make for Izendune then?”

  “No,” Wolflen commented, stopping Lord Eklar where he stood, “The Elves of Orenty should return to Orenty. Those from Polithica should return there. We now know that Mortican has set up a fort of sorts at the Ring of Izen. The Dwarves I am sure offered some resistance and trouble there. But just the same its likely Mortican has already used the portal. And if so, he and forces from the Nexulous moon could appear on Fengysha at any one of the portal sites. We must each of us be ready to protect our own. So for me, it is back to Polithica. Ayvock too, and I assume Ravenshade will ride with him as my wife will accompany me.”