Forging Destiny

by Marc Alan Edelheit

  “Lose that pack,” Karn said as he began unhooking his own, one clip at a time.

  Tovak did as he was told. When he slid it off his back and set it down, he felt light as a feather. As usual, he marveled at the feeling. Karn grunted with amusement as he leaned his own pack against a tree off to the side of the path. He untied his horn bow from the pack, as well as a small bundle of black-fletched arrows. Tovak set his pack next to his corporal’s.

  “Got your sling?” Karn asked. “And shot?”

  “I do.” Tovak patted the shot pouch cinched to his belt.

  “Good,” Karn said, “you might need it.”

  That was a sobering thought, for he had needed the sling the day before, against the goblins that had been chasing him. Now, he was potentially facing a whole different enemy.

  “Are gnomes as bad as they say?” Tovak asked.

  “Worse,” Karn said unhappily. “The little bastards are nasty business—nasty business. Pray we don’t have to fight them. One on one, gnomes usually are not much of a problem. They are easily overcome. However, they are like rats. When you see one, there’s always more about.”

  Looking down at the multitude of tracks around them, Tovak understood, with all the gnome tracks about, Second Section was in a world of trouble.

  “What do you know about gnomes?” Karn asked as he pulled his waterskin free and took a deep pull at it. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand and offered the skin to Tovak, who declined the offer by shaking his head.

  “Only what I’ve heard,” Tovak said. “I’ve never seen one myself, and they weren’t a topic covered in any real detail at the Academy. Gnomes occasionally work with the Horde. As far as I know, there haven’t been any large-scale gnome incursions into our territory for some time.”

  “The reason it’s not covered at the Academy is because we rooted most of them out a long time ago,” Karn said. “But, like vermin, it’s really impossible to get rid of them all. Small groups live upon the fringes of our towns, and cities—usually down in the deep dark of the world. We don’t go out of our way to bother them and they do the same. Occasionally there are problems, but usually we tolerate their presence, and they do the same for us.”

  “There is a treaty that guarantees that,” Benthok said as he rejoined them. “Or did you forget?”

  “A treaty?” Tovak had never heard of it. “A treaty with the gnomes?”

  Benthok gave a nod. “With those tribes that border our territory. It keeps the peace and has for the last hundred years or so.” The lieutenant turned his attention to Karn. “We’re to scout for four miles, no more. If we find nothing of interest, we report back, so that Karach can move the detachment up. Then we will scout ahead again.” Benthok glanced around at the nearest trees, eyeing them warily. “He’s also going to send out scouts, have a look back behind us and to the flanks. If anyone is following or watching us, we may find them.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Karn said.

  The lieutenant looked up the path, deep concern on his features. His head was still wrapped in a soiled bandage, from when he had been hit on the head during the enemy’s attack on their camp. Blood had seeped through and stained the bandage. The lieutenant reached up and scratched the back of his neck as he glanced up the path.

  “Whatever happened to the Second,” Benthok said, “it probably happened quickly and not long after the section came through here. The gnome tracks look to me like they were in a hurry. At least, that’s what I’m thinking.”

  “Yes, sir.” Karn spat on the ground. “Just our luck then, that the captain and Second wandered into hostile gnome territory.”

  Benthok scanned the terrain about them.

  “Karn, I want you up on the right side of the path”—he pointed—“moving along the slope, just into the trees. Tovak and I will take this side.”

  “Yes, sir,” Karn said.

  “Good,” Benthok said. “Let’s get to it.”

  Karn tossed his stopped waterskin down next to his pack and moved across to the other side of the path and into the trees and brush, about ten yards away.

  “Come on, Tovak,” Benthok said as he moved down the slope and into cover on the left side of the path.

  The two of them spread about five yards apart and began working their way parallel with the path as Karn kept pace on the other side. They moved slowly, taking their time and making as little noise as possible.

  Under the shade of the trees, the temperature was cooler, though Tovak found himself still sweating profusely. The sound of the birds chirping to one another was pleasant enough, as was the wind when it blew lightly through the trees, rustling the leaves overhead. Normally, Tovak would have enjoyed the setting, but not today.

  About every ten yards, Benthok and Tovak would come to a stop. They would listen, look around, and make eye contact with Karn before moving on.

  Tovak was closer to the path. The gnome tracks were everywhere he looked, even off the path and into the trees. He tried to get a better idea of their numbers but found it increasingly difficult. There were just too many tracks, hundreds of them. Some he judged were old, days, perhaps even weeks, others fresh. There was just no way he could tell how many had gone after the Second.

  There was a hissing to his left. He looked over. Benthok had been trying to get his attention. Across the way, Karn had stopped too. He and the lieutenant had just finished using finger speak. So intent had he been on the tracks, Tovak had missed it. The lieutenant moved over and leaned close. “This path we’re following is the remains of an ancient road.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “It’s raised up.” Benthok pointed. “See there? That is a roadbed. It was definitely made, though has not been maintained for years, possibly even centuries.”

  Tovak studied the path with new eyes. After a moment, he concluded the lieutenant was correct. “What is a road doing all the way out here in the middle of nowhere?”

  “At one time,” Benthok said, “if I don’t miss my mark, this wasn’t the middle of nowhere. Long ago, there was a Dvergr nation in these parts. All that remains are their ruins and not much more.”

  “What clan?” Tovak asked, curious.

  “We don’t know,” Benthok admitted.

  “How can that be?” Tovak was perplexed.

  “Before we came to this world, it seems another group of Dvergr were here first.”

  “That’s incredible,” Tovak said. “So, there could be another kingdom somewhere?”

  “We don’t believe so,” Benthok said. “All we have ever found are their ruins. They either left these parts or died off. It’s one of the reasons the warband is out this way.”

  That got Tovak’s attention. He was about to ask a question, when Benthok turned away and raised an arm, catching Karn’s attention. The lieutenant pointed forward, and with that, they moved on.

  The forest grew thicker the farther they traveled. The path they followed turned from trampled grass and dirt to a crushed carpet of pine needles. The undergrowth became sparser and the trees taller.

  Tovak estimated they had traveled nearly a half-mile, when Karn gave an owl hoot to get their attention. When they looked, the corporal was moving backward, away from the direction they were headed.

  Tovak and Benthok came to an abrupt halt and knelt down, scanning the trees and brush around them. Nothing. Still in view, Karn stopped behind a large bush that provided him some cover to his front. It was clear his positioning was deliberate. The corporal held up his fist to them as he knelt behind the bush. His eyes were fixed ahead of them.

  Ten yards to the front, the trees appeared to thin. Tovak scanned the area. He heard nothing out of the ordinary. He saw no movement either. He turned his attention back to the corporal, wondering what was wrong.

  Karn was still on the other side of the path. He gave the sign for them to join him. Motioning for Tovak to follow, Benthok started over to him.

  What have you found? Benthok asked the corporal
in finger speak.

  Clearing, Karn responded and pointed ahead. Look and see. Careful. Enemy may be about.

  Benthok turned, and with Tovak and Karn following, they crept forward towards the edge of the trees. They found a wide clearing, with low-lying brush interspersed with grass and a handful of small trees. Karn pointed.

  Tovak looked in that direction, toward a slight rise in the terrain on the other side of the clearing. There appeared to be a drop-off just beyond it. Tovak’s heart stilled as he spotted what Karn was pointing at. There were two bodies clad in skirmisher armor, lying in the brush and tall grass.

  Chilled, Tovak slowly searched the area for more bodies. He saw none.

  Benthok signed to Karn. You stay here. The lieutenant pointed at the corporal’s bow and then his eyes. The message was clear and Karn gave a nod.

  You—he tapped Tovak on the shoulder—follow me.

  Hunched over, Benthok stepped out into the clearing. Feeling exposed, Tovak followed. They moved as silently as they could through the low-lying brush while scanning the trees that bordered the clearing to either side. Nothing moved.

  The sounds of the birds and insects had gone oddly quiet. Tovak felt as if he was being watched. But there came no shout of alarm or massed charge from the woods by a band of wild gnomes.

  As they neared the bodies, it became obvious that a small but fierce fight had taken place here. Several bushes had been torn up, as had some grass. A sword lay discarded several feet from the nearest body.

  Benthok moved up to the skirmishers and took a knee. He turned over one of the bodies. Tovak recognized the warrior, but did not know his name, nor the other one, who was lying on his side. Both were incredibly pale, as if the blood had been leeched from their bodies. Dried blood, from numerous wounds on their arms and legs, had caked the ground around them.

  “Karvan and Jecksen,” Benthok hissed quietly. “Bloody shame. Both were good boys and even better skirmishers.”

  Tovak noticed a gnome body a few yards off, half concealed by a small bush. He moved over to it and knelt, studying the strange creature. It was tiny, like a child, and terribly thin, as if half-starved. The skin was an ashen gray color and smooth, without blemish. The gnome wore no armor, only a coarse gray tunic and a pair of small boots. It had died by the sword, almost cut completely in half, presumably the work of one of the dead skirmishers.

  “Your first gnome?” Benthok asked in a low whisper, coming over.

  “Yes,” Tovak said.

  “Never turn your back on one,” the lieutenant said. “They are fast and intelligent. Come on. I found some tracks leading up the slope. I think that’s where the rest of the Second went.”

  Then, keeping low, the lieutenant moved forward towards the top of the rise. Almost immediately, he gave an angry hiss and flattened himself against the ground. Tovak joined him, also flattening himself as he peered over the crest of the rise.

  Down below, the clearing continued on the opposite side of the slope. There was a small pond, at least twenty yards away, at the base. On the far side of the pond, forest climbed a steep slope. But for the bodies that lay around the edge of the pond, it was a peaceful setting.

  Tovak counted twelve of his comrades below. All around them were dozens of gnome dead. His heart plummeted.

  The fighting must have been desperate and hard. There was a trail of bodies on the far side of the pond, leading up to the forest. It looked like the survivors of Second Section had retreated that way and the gnomes had followed, pursuing them hotly.

  “Thulla’s bloody altar,” Benthok whispered, barely audible.

  A sudden wash of grief and anger flooded Tovak’s heart. He’d been wrong in his feelings towards what had happened. Struugar and Second Section were likely all dead. They must have been ambushed by the gnomes, caught by surprise, and then run down like animals.

  He recognized some of the dead. Though they had treated him badly, indifferent to his plight as a Pariah, none of that mattered now. They were his fellow brothers, his comrades in arms.

  Benthok patted the armor lightly on Tovak’s shoulder, breaking him free from his inner turmoil. The lieutenant looked back at Karn, who was still concealed in the tree line. It took Tovak a moment to spot the corporal.

  Follow us, provide cover, Benthok signed to the corporal, stay hidden. More dead this way.

  Karn acknowledged by giving a vigorous nod.

  The lieutenant turned back to Tovak and leaned close, whispering in his ear. “We need information and are going to examine the battle site below. Stay low and move as silent as possible. We don’t know if there are more gnomes about. Be on your guard. Understand?”

  Tovak gave a nod.

  With that, Benthok pulled himself up into a crouch and started forward. Tovak followed a heartbeat later.

  As he made his way down the slope, Tovak scanned the nearest trees, searching for any hint that they were being watched. The forest was dark, ominous. He saw and heard nothing. As they neared the pond, Tovak was horrified to see a dead skirmisher submerged under the water, held at the bottom of the shallows by the weight of his armor.

  Tovak followed as Benthok moved forward amongst the bodies, checking each he came across. Tovak found it a struggle not to be sick at the sight of his butchered comrades.

  Benthok paused for a long moment, crouching over the hewn body of a gnome that wore leather armor. Tovak joined him and saw there was an insignia painted in red upon the gnome’s breastplate, three interlocking gears.

  Benthok let out a long breath and then, without saying anything, continued on. The lieutenant searched amongst the dead, examining each body, rolling over some. One he paused over for several moments, then moved on. After a half hour, Benthok motioned for them to return to Karn’s position, who was on the slope above, watching. The corporal had an arrow nocked in his bow and held it at the ready.

  Once they were back together, the lieutenant motioned towards the trees on the other side of the clearing. He led them back the way they had come. From the cover of the trees, Benthok and Karn took a long moment to scan the clearing, looking for signs of pursuit.

  The lieutenant blew out a long breath and rubbed at his eyes for several moments. He looked over at Karn.

  “I am almost positive the gnomes are Khazagynn—a tribe I thought lived much farther to the north and west.” Benthok’s expression was grim. “I have no idea why they’re here. It looks as if our comrades were surprised and then retreated up the hillside and into the trees.” He took another deep breath and then let his eyes shift to the rise at the far side of the clearing.

  “Did you see the captain amongst the dead?” Karn asked.

  Tovak suddenly felt a wash of guilt. He had not thought to search for Struugar. He had not wanted to look at the faces of the dead.

  “No,” Benthok said, and then a look of sadness crossed his face as he gazed upon Karn. “Keveen is among the dead. I am sorry.”

  The corporal’s face hardened. A muscle twitched along his jawline. He gave a curt nod, but did not reply.

  “Right,” Benthok said to the two of them. “Struugar isn’t here, so we have to assume he led the survivors on the retreat. We need to find them or their bodies … though, to be honest, whatever happened to Second, I do not think it over yet. I believe there to be survivors.”

  Karn cleared his throat before speaking. “Why do you say that? After what I saw around the pond, I’d have thought all of Second dead.”

  “There’s a strong chance they are holed up somewhere defensible,” Benthok said. “Otherwise the gnomes would have come back for their dead, not to mention the looting of ours. I checked several of the boys and they still had coin on their person.”

  “You might be right,” Karn said, his voice gruff, “at least I hope you are.”

  Benthok rose and took two steps into the clearing again. “Come on, let’s push on and see what else we can learn.” He motioned towards the rise a few yards away. “Let’s—” The
lieutenant froze and turned his ear towards the hillside. It was clear he’d heard something. Then Tovak heard it too.

  It sounded like axes at work. The sound was faint and seemed to be carried almost on the wind. Then he picked up something else. Voices, high-pitched and unintelligible, coming closer and not far off.

  “Back,” Benthok hissed.

  The three of them fell back a short distance into the trees and moved behind a growth of brush that would provide some concealment, but still afford a view of the area. Tovak lowered himself to the ground next to the lieutenant and Karn and fell still.

  Four gnomes appeared just where he and Benthok had been a short while before on the rise that led to the pond. The gnomes made their way down the rise towards the two bodies of the skirmishes they had first discovered.

  The gnomes went to the nearest Dvergr body, Jecksen, and picked him up by the arms and legs. Although the creatures were only half the size of a Dvergr, they seemed to have little difficulty lifting the body between them. They carried him back over the rise and were soon gone from sight.

  Benthok and Karn shared a troubled look.

  “Does this mean it’s over?” Tovak asked. “For the captain and the rest of Second?”

  “I don’t know,” the lieutenant said, sounding deeply concerned. “But we need to follow them and find out for certain. Come on. Let’s go.”

  The three skirmishers spread out and, emerging from the trees, made their way across the clearing and back up the rise. By the time they reached it, the gnomes were already at the tree line on the far side of the pond. Benthok waited until the four gnomes had entered the trees and were out of sight before leading them over the rise and down towards the pond.

  The three of them moved across the battlefield. Karn expelled an unhappy breath that was mixed with a groan. He paused to kneel beside a body. Tovak did not know the fallen skirmisher, but the corporal seemed deeply affected by his passing.

  “Karn.” Benthok had come back to the corporal. “Now is not the time for mourning the dead. That will come later. Keveen would understand.”