by M. L. Forman
“Take more than a little tap to keep me down,” Halfdan growled in defiance.
“Why don’t they come in larger numbers?” Val questioned. “They could easily overwhelm us if they sent more warriors.”
“A game,” Sindar answered softly. “It is a game to them. Goblins love to gamble, and we have given them the perfect opportunity.”
“What do you mean?” Alex questioned.
“They gamble on who will come against us,” Sindar answered. “They place bets on how many will return, on how many of us they will kill or capture. The lives of others, even others of their own kind, mean little to goblins. They will gamble all night if they can.”
“And when morning comes?” Bregnest questioned.
“If we can hold until morning, we may have a chance to escape,” said Sindar. “If we try to run now, we have no chance at all.”
“Then we’d better build up our defenses,” said Halfdan. “We can pile up their dead and make a wall to funnel their next attack into a smaller space.”
The night seemed endless, as did the number of goblins that came out of it. Alex and his friends would fight for a few minutes, killing eight or ten goblins. They’d move the dead goblins to form grotesque walls around the small square of stones, and then Alex and his friends would rest and wait for the next attack.
Alex always knew when the goblins were coming, and where the most goblins would be, and Bregnest never questioned how he knew. Alex’s knowledge was keeping them alive, but he wasn’t sure it would be enough.
At first his magic let him know which direction the main attack would come from, but as the night wore on, Alex’s magic showed him more. He knew there were more than the sixty goblins Sindar had originally estimated. Several hundred goblins encircled the hilltop, and at times he could even hear what they were saying.
“It will be dawn in about two hours,” Sindar said after another short battle.
“A long time to hold our ground,” said Val. “Perhaps we should try to cut our way through. Head south. The goblins are less likely to follow us toward a city, and—”
“No,” Alex interrupted. “We can’t fight our way out to the south.”
“Why not?” Bregnest questioned. “What do you see?”
“I . . . I don’t know,” Alex answered. “Someone has arrived, someone in charge. He’s not happy that we are here. The goblins need to be someplace else, and we are slowing them down. The leader is sending something to put an end to this problem—to us.”
“Sending something?” Halfdan questioned.
“I don’t know what it means,” Alex went on as if he hadn’t heard the question. “A hand, a fist . . . I don’t understand.”
“A fist,” Sindar repeated in a worried tone. “That’s what goblins call their shaman. Goblin shamans have powerful magic, and they are normally escorted by a hundred of their fiercest warriors.”
“Then our troubles just got worse,” said Val. “We need to make a run for it, before this goblin shaman gets here.”
“But without horses, how far can we run?” Halfdan questioned.
“We can’t stay here,” said Andy.
“Alex,” Bregnest said softly, “can you tell where their lines are the weakest? If we can hit them where and when they don’t expect it, we might be able to break through.”
Alex didn’t answer for several seconds as he let his magic search around them. Most of the goblins were to the south, expecting them to run. He wasn’t sure where the shaman and his escort would be, but the leader of the goblins was to their west.
“North and east,” Alex finally said. “That’s where the fewest goblins are.”
“Then we move, as soon as their next attack is defeated,” said Bregnest. “If we head out as soon as the attacking goblins are down, the noise of our movement might go unnoticed.”
“If we are attacked before we can make our escape, do we stay as a group, or is it every man for himself?” Val questioned.
“A coldhearted question to ask, but one that must be answered,” said Sindar. “Some of us must escape to take a warning to the people of Norsland if nothing else.”
“The words are bitter, but it is every man for himself,” said Bregnest. “Sindar, Halfdan—you are both able to see better in the dark than the rest of us. You two will lead. Alex, Val, and Andy will follow you. I’ll bring up the rear.”
“As soon as the next battle is over then,” said Sindar, bowing to Bregnest. “May fate smile on us all.”
“They are coming from the north,” Alex said after a few minutes of silence. “Only from the north this time. There are no other goblins approaching.”
No one said anything as they all prepared for the fight and the desperate flight that would follow. Alex didn’t like the idea of leaving his friends behind if they couldn’t escape, but Bregnest had said the words. “Every man for himself” meant exactly what it sounded like. Each of them was to try to escape, not stopping to help their friends or to fight off the goblins. They were to escape at any cost, and then take a warning to the people of Norsland.
“Here they come,” Sindar whispered in the darkness.
Alex and the others didn’t wait for the goblins to reach the rocks, but charged out to meet them head on. The goblins were taken by surprise, and it didn’t take long for the company to finish them off. Sindar and Halfdan headed northeast at a trot as soon as the last goblin was down. Alex let Val and Andy move ahead of him as he followed, hoping to keep as many of his friends as safe as he could.
They went on for a time, and Alex searched the land around him with his magic. He couldn’t feel any goblins near them, and for a moment he felt relieved, but then he realized his mistake. Something was hiding the goblins from his magic, something he had never encountered before, and that could mean only one thing. The goblin shaman was close by, working his own magic to hide his warriors and trap the party on open ground.
He had to warn the others, but Alex knew that calling out would be a mistake. He looked behind him, but Bregnest was nowhere to be seen. Cursing himself for not noticing the shaman’s magic sooner, Alex raced after his friends. Bregnest would catch up in a few minutes—he couldn’t be that far behind—and then they could make a new plan for their escape.
Running as fast as he could and still being silent, Alex sent his magic out ahead of him. He couldn’t see far in the darkness, but he knew his magic would lead him to the others faster than his eyes could.
Alex hadn’t run far before he stopped short. His magic didn’t feel anything ahead of him, not even the empty land. It was as if a cloud of darkness had covered him, smothering his magic and leaving him blind. He was completely helpless, and his friends were running into a trap.
A flame of anger came to life inside Alex’s chest and he started forward once more. He had failed his friends, and he was angry with himself. He had been foolish, trusting magic that he didn’t understand and had never used before. It must have been easy for the shaman to use him, to turn his confidence against him. Now he would die—worse, his friends would die—because he hadn’t been smart enough to see the trap.
He drew Moon Slayer and the magic of his sword flowed into him, joining with his own anger as it came. Alex didn’t try to hold back his anger or his desire to destroy goblins; he let the feelings grow inside of him. The goblins would pay for the lives of his friends before this night was over. He would kill them all if he could, and he would destroy the shaman that had used him.
He started running once more, letting the magic of his sword guide his steps. It wasn’t long before Alex saw three dead goblins lying near a narrow path. His friends had put up a fight; perhaps there was still hope. When at last the path came to a meadow, he found what he was looking for.
The first three goblins never knew he was there, and the six who were close to them only had time to scream in fear before Alex hacked them down. The screams alerted other warriors, but that didn’t save them. Goblin weapons and armor shattered u
nder the force of Moon Slayer as Alex drove headlong into his enemy. Broken steel and goblin blood fell like rain in the clearing, and then the unexpected happened.
Alex felt something powerful and as cold as ice hit him from behind. Pain filled his mind and drove him to his knees. He lifted his head and saw his sword on the ground a few yards in front of him, but he couldn’t remember dropping it. A great weight seemed to be resting on his back.
“Your sword is no match for my magic, boy,” a rough, jeering voice said from Alex’s left. “Take him. Put him with the others. We’ll have some good sport with this lot once we get home.”
Take him.
Those two words burned into Alex’s mind, igniting his anger once more. Take him—as if he were no threat, as if he were a piece of baggage to be carried away. He would not be taken, not by these foul creatures, and he would not submit to the magic that held him down. His friends might already be lost, but he would make the goblins pay for that loss.
As his anger rose up inside of him, the weight on his back grew lighter. Alex pushed himself to his feet, turning to look at the goblin who had spoken. Even in the shadow-filled meadow Alex could see the shaman clearly. A strange black mist filled with purple and blue streaks seemed to float around his enemy like a lightning storm at night. In his right hand the shaman held a staff with what looked like a human skull attached to the top of it. Seeing the skull sent Alex into an even greater rage, but instead of letting the anger take control, he used it to focus his thoughts and his magic.
The goblin’s eyes grew wide as Alex stood up. The purple and blue flashes around the shaman grew brighter and spun around him with dizzying speed. He was terrible to look at, but his voice was full of fear when he started to yell.
“Kill him! Kill him now!”
Alex reached out for his sword and it flew through the air to his hand. Even as his fist closed around the hilt of the sword, the dark blade was moving, becoming a blue-white flame. Three warriors stood between Alex and the shaman, but the flaming sword passed through them without slowing, instantly turning them to ash.
The shaman raised his left hand to cast a spell, but he wasn’t fast enough. The world seemed to slow down around Alex, and for a moment he could hear no sound at all. He didn’t move forward to kill the shaman with his sword, he only moved his own left hand in a small circle.
Flames exploded from the shaman’s chest, rising fast and hot and spinning wildly around the rest of his body. The shaman screamed in agony as a whirlwind of flame consumed him. Alex poured all of his anger into the fire, letting it grow larger and hotter with each passing second. The tornado of blue-white flame was more than thirty feet tall when it started to move with deadly speed and accuracy.
Goblins ran in every direction, yelling and screaming words that Alex didn’t hear. Wherever the goblins went, the flames followed, burning them like dry grass on a windy day. Rocks and trees exploded when the heat of the flames touched them, the debris tearing apart any goblins that were nearby. Soon it looked as if the entire forest was on fire, and Alex did nothing to slow the flames.
Once more he let his magic flow outward, searching for the cursed creatures he wanted so much to destroy. There were a few goblins left in the forest around him, but most were running away in panic. He could feel more goblins in the distance, but they were too far away for the flames of his anger to reach them. They would live for now, but sooner or later he would find them and destroy them, just as he had destroyed their shaman.
Slowly Alex’s anger faded. With his rage spent, the tornado of flame flickered and died out, leaving only the burning trees to light the meadow around him. He was tired, worn out, and terribly sad. His friends were lost, he was alone, and all he wanted to do was sleep.
Dropping to the ground, Alex tried to think. The shaman had said something about the others, but in his anger he hadn’t been listening. It was something important, something he needed to remember, but it wouldn’t come to him. Before he could force the answer out of his tired brain, Alex collapsed into unconsciousness.
Chapter Eight
Hostages
It was a few seconds before Alex realized he was awake and that the feeling of something approaching was more than just another bad dream. He didn’t move a muscle as he waited, letting his magic tell him what he needed to know. He tightened his grip on Moon Slayer, ready for whoever or whatever was creeping up on him.
In a flash of speed Alex was on his feet, his sword raised and ready to strike. Sindar jumped back in surprise, his own swords coming up in defense. For a second the two of them looked at each other, unable to believe what they were seeing.
“Alex! You survived,” Sindar almost shouted.
“Sindar, you’re alive,” Alex said at the same time.
They threw their arms around each other like long lost brothers, and for a minute nothing else in the world mattered.
“The others?” asked Alex, as they broke apart. “Have you seen any sign of them?”
Sindar shook his head “I thought . . . I thought you were all dead because of my foolishness.”
“Foolishness? What are you talking about?”
“I should have known this was a trap,” Sindar answered slowly. “I have fought goblins many times before. I know how cunning they can be. I should have known that an open path would lead to a trap. Forgive me, Alex. I’ve failed.”
“It’s not your fault,” Alex said softly. “If anyone is to blame, it’s me. I should have noticed the shaman’s magic sooner. I shouldn’t have been so confident in my own abilities. If I hadn’t believed everything my magic told me, this never would have happened.”
“You are not to blame,” Sindar replied. “And perhaps neither am I. Enough of doubts and blame—there will be time for that another day. What about the others? I’ve seen no sign of them, and I’ve searched the dead between here and the rocks we took cover behind last night.”
“I haven’t seen anyone,” said Alex. “What happened to you during the battle?”
“Halfdan and I were in the lead,” Sindar said. “Fifteen or twenty goblins attacked us, and we were separated in the fight. I tried to get back to the rest of the group, but more goblins appeared. I thought it best to lead as many of them away from the company as I could, so I killed a few to make sure they would follow me and I led them west.”
“He said to put me with the others,” Alex said suddenly. “‘Put him with the others. We’ll have some good sport when we get home,’ that’s what he said.”
“Who said that?” Sindar asked in alarm.
“The goblin shaman. He was here when I entered the meadow. He hit me with some kind of magic that pinned me to the ground. I don’t remember everything that happened, but I know he said to put me with the others.”
“The shaman? Did he escape with the other goblins?” Sindar questioned in a worried tone.
“No, I destroyed him,” Alex answered, sitting down on a large rock.
“It would have been better if our friends had died with him,” Sindar said slowly. “Death is better than being hostage to a goblin.”
“Hostage?” Alex questioned in alarm.
“You are sure the shaman said to put you with the others?” Sindar asked, ignoring Alex’s question.
“Yes, I’m sure that’s what he said.”
“Then the others have been captured, probably with the help of the shaman’s magic. The goblins will take them back to their caves, and then . . .”
“If our friends are alive we have to go after them,” Alex said. “If there is any chance at all of saving them we must try.”
“Yes. It will be difficult, but we must try.”
“Let’s get started,” said Alex, standing up once more. “The goblins have been running for hours, we need to hurry if we are going to catch them.”
“Rest a little longer, Alex,” Sindar answered. “You’ve had a long night and used a great deal of magic. You will need all the rest you can get if we are to chase
the goblins on foot.”
“We won’t be on foot for long,” said Alex. “The horses may have run, but I can call Shahree back to me. She’ll bring the other horses with her, and then we can go.”
“Then call to your friend, and rest while she comes to you,” Sindar said, his voice little more than a whisper. “I will search for any signs of a trail, and try to find our friends’ weapons while you gather your strength.”
Sindar hurried off as soon as he had spoken, leaving Alex alone.
Alex stood for several minutes, trying to relax and letting his feelings melt away. His mind became clear, and he focused his thoughts on Shahree, trying to picture her as clearly in his mind as he could. He knew that Shahree would not go far and that she had only run becuse he had told her to. For a long moment he held his breath, concentrating on his horse.