A Soldier's Honor: The Scepter of Maris: Book One

by Barnes, James R.

  CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN

  You Can Thank Me Later

  Silas stepped forward and started shouting at the approaching enemy in the the Orc tongue. Meric only heard "Chala hoachek dis..." before he tuned the man out. He had never had a good head for the language, and as far as he was concerned it all blended into "blah, blah, blah" at some point. He did not know if he just was not good with different languages, or if it was some mental block he had due to his anger at the race.

  That was not important right now, so he turned his attention back to the enemy. He heard some grumbling from the Goblins, but the advance had actually stopped. The Orcs had moved to the front of the group, their mounts snapping at a few Goblins that stood too close. He could hear the chop echo down the path, and then the Orcs started yelling back at Silas. Even though he could not understand them, they were clearly agitated and getting angrier by the second.

  Silas responded; again Meric did not understand most, but this time he caught two words "nuetha" and "soital". He knew the first word was "coward", and he thought the other was "raven". That was the name of the main clan that had invaded. Maybe he told them they were bigger cowards than Raven clan. Whatever it was, it did the trick.

  Both Orcs charged their steeds up the path, screaming in rage. He trusted Alyssa to take care of them, so when he drew his bow it was not to target the beasts bearing down on them. The slope afforded them a good view of the whole party and he used that vantage to begin firing into the goblins behind the Orc ridden wargs.

  There was no visible sign of whatever it was that she did to cause the wall to collapse, but when it happened, the crack was so loud that he flinched. Everyone flinched, from what he could see. Even the wargs; right before they died. One Orc and his mount were completely crushed by the huge slab of rock that fell, and the other warg's head was caved in. The one rider that did not get flattened was thrown from his saddle and tumbled to a stop ten feet further up the slope. The cloud of dust blown up by the improvised weapon quickly enveloped the Orc, but not before Meric took his shot. The Orc was fast though, and recovered far quicker than he anticipated. As a result his arrow took it in the left shoulder instead of the heart. There was a mad scramble back toward the fallen stone and over it. He made it ahead of Meric's next arrow, and could be heard screaming at the Goblins.

  Their reluctance to press forward was understandable, but fear of their masters must have been greater. First a few surged forward, then a handful more, followed by the rest. Meric wondered at the control even one wounded Orc could have over them, but then he remembered the shaman. Maybe one of the right kind of Orc was the key. Thinking of the magic wielder made him turn to glance at Alyssa. Sure enough, she had that look of concentration on her face. He left her to it, with a little prayer that this shaman was no more skilled than the last.

  Shafts flew downslope as rapidly as they could send them, but he knew it would not be enough. Even with the three of them firing, there were too many and they were too close. He put an arrow through the eye of a Goblin that had made it to within five feet of him, and then felt himself being pulled back. Brody's big frame moved forward to meet the enemy as they got to the bottleneck. The clash of weapons clamored off of the cliff walls and mixed with the human and goblin grunts as Brody and Woodard defended the narrow bend. There were so many of them that the ones in back were starting to push the others forward. This did force the Goblins ahead, but it also jammed them into the defile, hampering their movements and allowing the defenders to inflict more damage. While this was working in his friends favor now, the push was so strong and steady that eventually they would clear the restriction. That would seal the fate of his party.

  "Yell out when you need relieving," he ordered them.

  "What! Just for these dogs? I was thinking of taking a nap while Wood handled this minor inconvenience." There was no strain in his voice yet, but he had just started.

  "Maybe you would like something cool to drink while you wait?" Meric knew his friend would probably fight till he dropped, if they let him.

  "If you're taking orders..." Wood sounded just as calm.

  "Sorry. Only water left in those skins. You two will have to clear these pests out first." Meric chuckled darkly, knowing that would not be happening.

  Some of the more eager Goblins on the other side of the obstruction had decided to work together, and managed to climb atop each other to get over the large boulders blocking the one side. It did not go exactly according to their plan, because Malina was picking off any head that poked over the top. After three of them had fallen back, pierced by an arrow, the next one had grabbed a shield. Malina was forced to try and fit an arrow through if any opening was given, but the goblins also had a harder time climbing while encumbered. Meric moved to that side to take care of any that might make it over.

  When the last one to try toppled over backward, Meric scrambled up to get a look at what was on the other side of the boulders. He only got a quick glance before he had to duck a rock whipping by too close to his head. He knew it would not look good, but it was even worse than he thought it would be. The humans must have finally been browbeaten by their Commander into attacking, though it looked like less than the whole forty coming up the path. He also saw a handful of archers raise their bows. Dropping back down, he called out a warning.

  "Archers! Hug the walls." He knew that those directly engaged with the enemy could not pull back, but the rest of them could try to avoid the incoming fire.

  Several arrows came down, shattering on the hard surface of the path. They were nowhere near close enough to hit anyone, and thankfully the horses all fit deep enough into the cave opening to be safe. Meric checked on his friends manning the gap and, seeing them holding their own, then decided that those archers had a good idea. He pulled an arrow and began lofting them into the area he believed the Rennick soldiers had reached. He knew he would never be able to hear anything that would let him know if he was successful, but was certain the shafts would come down in the right location. He kept this up for some time, sparing glances to keep an eye on everyone.

  He had just taken his eyes off of Alyssa, who was leaned against the rock wall and had sweat pouring down her face, when he heard a sharp cry of pain from the defenders keeping back the Goblins. He looked over to see Woodard holding his bloody hand and shuffling to get out of Westerly's way so the man could take his place. James reached the wounded man and Meric could see a quick flash of his right hand minus the two bottom fingers. They began wrapping the hand to stop the bleeding, and pulled back further out of the way.

  Meric's attention moved back to the defile, because now there were three of his group holding back the tide. When Wood went down the enemy had pushed forward enough to force Brody and Westerly back a step. Now Silas had joined them, but Brody looked to be flagging. Meric moved up close to his friend with his weapons at the ready, and shouted for him to pull back and catch his breath. When the big man found a lull and jumped back, Meric slid right into his place, his sword and dagger flashing.

  The attackers were able to have a little more freedom of movement, but were not entirely clear of the bind yet, so he and his two companions were able to keep them from pressing forward too fast. He blocked an axe swung at his head, and kicked his opponent hard in the hip. The force pushed the Goblin back, fouling the legs of one behind him, and allowing Meric to strike with his sword and dagger; taking both down. Next to him Silas had just dispatched two more, and the four dead or dying attackers briefly jammed up the gap and gave them a moment's respite. James took advantage and relieved Westerly.

  It only took a few seconds for the Goblins to drag three of the bodies clear, and then they surged ahead again. They stepped over and on top of the last fallen warrior, attacking with a renewed viciousness. The fighting got even more desperate, as the enemy slowly forced their way past the defile. Meric's arms were becoming leaden as he kept most of the onslaught from reaching him. He had several small nicks and a few more ser
ious cuts, but nothing that could incapacitate him. Despite the frigid air, sweat was pouring. It mixed with the blood, his own and the enemy's, and was starting to affect his grip; he had to shift backwards a half step while readjusting. A few more minutes, and the Goblins would break through.

  They were pushed back enough that five of them could fight together, and then the push finally became too much.

  "Fall back!" He had to shout to be heard.

  Meric cut deep into the leg of his opponent, tripping up the goblins behind it as it fell, and took the respite to check on the others. Malina had led Alyssa back into the cave, so their magic user would not have to break her concentration. Woodard was with them, but had switched his shield to the right hand and had a sword in his left. The pain he was in was obvious, but he looked ready fight to the end. Brody moved over to the horses, and was leading their two destriers to the front of the cave. He would order them to attack as soon as the rest of them were clear. Not the ending the noble steeds deserved, but since the Goblins would only slaughter them for food anyway, it gave them a chance to go down fighting.

  Meric waited to meet the enemy at the cave mouth, and as soon as the others reached him he joined back in on the fight.

  "A little help!" Westerly was bleeding badly from his side and a cut on his head, but still fighting.

  "Step back." Brody took his place as they backed into the cave. Westerly began swiping at the blood running into his eyes as soon as he was out of the way.

  That was all Meric had time to see, because had to focus on the enemies before him. All of them but Alyssa were engaged with a goblin, and they were going to lose. His arms felt like they were almost too heavy to lift, sweat and blood stung his eyes, and his right leg was beginning to cramp. Still he kept swinging away. He saw James go to a knee out of the corner of his eye, and thought that at any time now, the goblins would overwhelm them.

  Over the tops of the goblins, a streak of lightning came out of nowhere, falling just outside the cave. The bright flash followed by a loud crack caused Meric to have to shut his eyes for a second, and he was fortunate that it had caught the Goblins off guard too. In the seconds after the flash he felt the hairs on the back of his neck and arms stand up. Once he could see well enough again, he found that the onslaught from the Goblins had slackened, and after finishing off the dazed opponent in front of him, it occurred to him that the lightning had taken out several of the Goblins outside the cave.

  He looked back to see Alyssa slumped against the back wall, unconscious. She must have defeated the shaman, and then used the last of her strength to help them. The breather it had given them would be helpful, but it was not going to be enough. Even as he turned back to the opening the Goblins were recovering and began to once more converge on them. He thought it might be a small mercy that she would not be awake to endure these last moments. He and his friends were all bleeding, battered, and tired. This would be the last stand, and it was not going to last very long.

  As the enemy reached them he mentally pushed past the fatigue and pain; giving all that he had to take as many of them with him as he could. Time seemed to drag by, and his focus narrowed. All that there was in the world was himself and his opponent. He fought on like this for an indeterminate amount of time, and was only returned to reality by Woodard bumping into him as the Sergeant went down. He blocked the strike aimed at Wood's head, and cut his eyes to the right to check on his friends. Westerly was also down and James, while back on his feet, was barely holding them back.

  He threw all of his strength and ability into keeping the Goblins off of him and Wood, and took a few more cuts in the process. He was just about out of energy when something that had been nagging at his brain for the past minute finally began to register. The sounds of weapons clashing should not have seemed out of place in this situation, but it was the location that eventually drew his attention.

  It was coming from behind the Goblins. He could hear shouts of panic coming from out among them, and the press to get at his group was slackening. He had no idea what was going on, but he did not waste the distraction.

  "Hold them off. We have reinforcements!" He did not know if that was true, but if it gave his friends some hope he did not care. If they could catch a second wind, then all the better.

  Apparently some of the Goblins understood the common tongue, because they began paying more attention to what was behind them. The sounds of fighting were getting closer, and the enemy in front of them stopped trying to push forward all together. Those of his group left fighting used the confusion and went on the attack. Between what was happening behind them, and the redoubled effort by the enemy in front of them, the Goblins began to panic. Half of them tried to flee, but did not know which way to go. They began to get in each other's way, tripping their companions up and adding to the confusion.

  Snatching his dagger from a Goblin's eye, he batted another's weapon aside and swiped at the throat. It was a miss, but only because his opponent fell backwards when another Goblin fell into his legs. That cleared the way for Meric to see what was happening out among the Goblins, or more accurately, what was left of the Goblins. Of all the things that he would have guessed, the sight that awaited would never have been among them.

  "Did you miss me, whelp?" The loud, gravelly voice boomed above the chaos they were surrounded by. Chaos that was steadily dying down thanks to a lot of armed Dwarves.

  Meric stumbled through the bodies, and up to the speaker. Dhuren was wearing dark gray and emerald green armor that was liberally spattered with blood. He was also wearing a satisfied grin on his face. The sturdy Dwarf reached out and clasped forearms with Meric, barking out a loud laugh.

  "Glad we made it, son, sorry we weren't here sooner." Dhuren's comment was made as he looked into the back of the cave.

  "A little late is better than too late," Meric said.

  "So... where is that ugly giant you usually travel with?"

  Meric just grinned and turned back to check on his friends.

  CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

  Just Getting Started

  Alyssa felt water leak down her chin and trail down her neck as she drank from the skin, but could not be troubled to care. She had never been more tired in her life. This shaman had been a bit more experienced than the last, and since she needed to bring the cliff side down on the Orcs, she had lost the element of surprise. It was a valuable learning experience, though. Both shaman had been powerful, but their technique was crude. There would be a very detailed report turned in to the King and her Guild Master, with plenty of questions for her to follow. Hopefully, it would give them an advantage if any of them had to face off with a shaman.

  Twisting to stretch out the muscles in her back, she swept her gaze across the collection of people gathered around the fire, and leaned back into Meric's side. It was difficult not to stare, but she made the effort not to linger on the shorter, stockier forms sitting with them.

  Dwarves. The truth was right in front of her, and she still had to wonder if she fell and hit her head when she lost consciousness earlier. The tallest of them was a few inches shorter than Malina, but they were all possessed a sturdy thickness about them.

  Their arrival had been nothing short of a miracle as far as she was concerned. Having been unconscious at the time, she had not really been aware of how desperate things had become, but Meric and Brody had filled her in. The cost could have been so much worse than it was. The white bandage around Westerly's head, and the unseen wrapping that covered up a wound to his side, was similar to the rest of the group. In fact, she was the only one that had made it through the ordeal without a scratch. Their new friends had spent some time stitching and patching up the injuries of the others.

  Woodard had lost the last two fingers on his right hand, and had several other injuries. James had bad cuts on his left arm and leg. Malina had many smaller wounds, a serious black eye, and the concussion to go with it. Meric, Brody, and Silas had all been bleeding from multiple place
s, though Silas was the least injured of all except her. Meric had been stabbed in the back of his left shoulder. It was a wound he had not even appeared to notice. According to Silas, after stumbling out to meet the dwarf, he had turned to check on them and that was when Dhuren noticed the blade still lodged in place.

  Once the most serious wounds had been seen to, their rescuers had helped them back down the path and then led them to another cave. This one was much larger, easily holding her party and the thirty Dwarves that had saved them, along with some Human prisoners. No Goblins or Orcs survived. Once she got settled, a more thorough look around had revealed the ten men wearing Rennick uniforms that were tied up and being guarded. She planned to ask about them in the morning. Right now, she was too tired, and she thought that there was a more important question that needed saying.

  "So... I guess we both will be wanting to ask the other what they are doing here?" Dhuren's thick voice jolted her out of her musing. His accent was interesting; rolled r's and almost slurring in places.

  "I don't know about the rest of them, but I just had a craving for some of that mead you fellows always drink," said Brody, bringing a chuckle from all present.

  "I think we can accommodate our large friend." The dwarf that spoke had been introduced as Fastil.

  He reached back to the pack he was half propped up against and dug out a large gray flask. The orange and yellow of the fire reflected off of the elaborate silver trim of the container as it was passed to Brody. He took a long swallow, and let out a happy sigh.

  "Fastil, you are my new hero."

  "Just save some for us. The man drinks like a Dwarf." The last comment was aimed at the rest of them.

  "We were looking for you, actually." Meric spoke as soon as the laughter had died down.

  "Well, it was a good thing we were watching that Orc party."

  "Indeed it was. Thank you, again. We came to ask for help." Meric poked at the fire a few times, waiting on Dhuren to respond.