by Galen Wolf
We spend day after day at Alderley Edge forge, with me and Bernard smithing vorpal weapons. We take the weapons from the infantry and cavalry, swords, sabres, spears and lances and put the vorpal effect on them every one. It takes two full real life days, long days that stretch into the early hours, getting up again as soon as we can and vorpalling again.
It’s a hell of a grind and a good job that I earn my living working at home in real life, because I don’t earn much of a living over these few days. Camelot just got too important. Real life had to go by the wayside while I gear up Sir Mercurius’s troops.
Almost finished and taking a break, we sit in the upper room of the Wizard tavern around a rectangular oak table, much scarred and stained with the marks of knives and the rings of old tankards. We’re almost done with the vorpal effect and the three regiments based at Alderley Edge are about fully equipped. We need to add vorpal to the sidearms of the Knutsford Grenadiers then we’re complete.
There have been a few skirmishes around the borders of the Edge with the enemy troops camped round our territory, but nothing serious and not enough action with the vorpal weapons for the enemy to realise that we have them.
‘And we want to keep it like that,’ Mercurius says after I make that point. ‘We want the element of surprise and to hit them hard so there’s no coming back from it.’ He says, ‘When will we be ready, Gorrow?’
I shrug. ‘This evening probably, I think we’ve only got about thirty to do.’
Bernard corrects me. He’s looking tired and grimy from his hours round the forge. ‘Forty-five.’
‘Okay, forty-five. But still this evening.’
‘Yeah,’ Bernards says. ‘I guess this evening.’
Merlin sits back watching us, his fingers steepled up to his beard. ‘Hey, Gorrow,’ he says, and once again I’m struck how camp he is. ‘Who’s this guy watching you?’
‘Watching me?’
He waves around us. ‘All of you I mean.’
I realise what he’s talking about. ‘You mean the rogue, Deathknife?’
Merlin nods. ‘We’ve seen him skulking around the borders, but he’s too chickenshit to come into Alderley Edge itself.’
Tye says, ‘He works for Satanus.’ Tye has been uncharacteristically quiet in Merlin’s company as if he’s in awe of the great mage.
Merlin gives him a wink. ‘I figured that, kid. The black armour and guild insignia sorta give it away.’ Then he looks at me. ‘What’s he doing, anyway?’
I say, ‘He’s followed us pretty much the whole way from Silver Drift. I’m pretty sure he’s following us with the wagons to see what we do with them. The Enemy knows we’re up to something, but I don’t think they know exactly what. They were mining smoky crystals back in Carrionburg but they didn’t seem to have figured exactly what to do with them.’
‘They didn’t get the Jabberwock connection,’ Fitheach says. He seems to like Merlin because he keeps smiling at him.
‘Hmm,’ Merlin says, scratching his chin through his beard. ‘Want me to fry him?’
I say, ‘Well you could, but he’ll be bound close by so he’ll just come back.’
Merlin grins. ‘I guess. But it’ll be fun.’
Fitheach’s eyes light up with righteous fury. ‘We should fry every one of the damned swine. Boil them in their own blood.’
Mercurius looks at me and raises an eyebrow. Clearly he doesn’t know Fitheach. I shrug and Merlin laughs out loud. He points a gnarled finger at him. ‘I like you, saint, I surely do.’ Then he frowns. ‘Nah, I think there’s something more to it than this. He’s following you and the wagons, sure, but there’s more to it. Never underestimate how sly and cunning Satanus is.’
This news bothers me. ‘So what is he doing then?’
Merlin shakes his head. ‘I don’t know, but it’s something.’
Bernard scowls. ‘If it comes to you, be sure to let us know.’
Tye sits forward with an apologetic nod to Merlin. ‘Don’t mind Uncle Bernard, he’s just grumpy.’
Merlin whistles through his teeth. ‘He’s your uncle? I wouldn’t have got the family resemblance, not with your hair and all.’
Bernard seethes. ‘I’m not his freaking uncle.’
That makes everyone laugh. But it‘s a nervous laugh, as we anticipate the struggle to come.
The next morning the vorpal effect is on all the weapons, and Mercurius has arrayed the troops. There’s a field up from the houses by the Wizard Tavern and the troops crowd into it. There’s the Knutsford Grenadiers, the Congleton Infantry and the Sandbach Light Cavalry. They look great as the sun sparkles on their armour. I’m mounted on Spirit alongside Luc and Mercurius and Merlin is standing on a Turkish carpet, laid on the grass. Bernard, Fitheach and Tye stand to our left and we’re all getting ready for the big speech from Mercurius.
Mercurius takes off his helmet and holds it in his right hand, the feather nodding. He begins his speech. ‘Men, thanks to Sir Gorrow here—’
A spontaneous cheer goes up from the assembled soldiers.
‘—we now have an edge, literally an edge to your weapons. With the vorpal instakill effect we can push the enemy scum back from Alderley Edge—’
Another cheer.
'—Then from Caer, and very soon from the whole of Logres.’
The cheering is deafening, and he has to wave them to be quiet. He starts again. ‘Once we defeat them there, and make no mistake, we will defeat them — we will take the fight to Caer and lift the siege— '
More cheering.
‘Then, with the King at our head, we will drive them from the whole of Logres, recapturing Camelot and destroying their foul capital city at Hellsmouth.’
At this the whole field goes absolutely nuts. Mercurius waits until they’ve calmed down and then continues. ‘With three Knights of the Round Table at your head...’ He means me, him and Luc. ‘How can we fail?’
That’s a cue for more cheering. When that dies down, he turns and gestures to the gold lame clad wizard. ‘And with the great Merlin Silvestris on our side, the most skilful wizard in the whole realm, how can we fail?’
He’s really playing to the audience.
Then he gestures to my companions. ‘With the amazing alchemist Bernard, the most powerful Saint Fitheach and the very promising young mage, Tye, by your side, how can we fail?’
This time their cheering knows no limits. Theatrically, Mercurius puts on his helmet, lifts his lance with its silver and blue pennant and spurs his horse into a trot.
It looks like we’re off.
I snap down my visor, and ready my own lance. By my side, Sir Luc does the same. We move out of the field and onto the road. We three knights are at the front, with Bernard, Fitheach and Tye behind us. Henry the Mule is almost frothing at the bit. ‘I’m really excited,’ he says.
I’ve lost sight of Merlin. The Sandbach Light Cavalry are moving out rank by rank behind us onto the road, filling it from side to side and going back a good way, and after them the Congleton Infantry are ready to move off. Further behind them are the Knutsford Grenadiers.
Still no sign of Merlin then a sudden movement catches my eye and I see a gold-clad mage surfing on a Turkish carpet rising above the cavalry. Merlin calls down, ‘It’s said that Charlie don’t surf, but I sure as hell do. Let’s go get ‘em!’
Our small army makes its way down the hill. We’re not out of our own zone of control before enemy scouts pick up that we’re moving on them. I hear them calling out in Orcish grunts and Ogre growls. There’s panic in their camp, and they’ve got only minutes before we’re on them. We’ve caught them by surprise.
We enter the black and red haze of enemy control and keep on down the road. There is a wide gap in the hedge to the left that leads out over to the slope they’ve camped on. I see ogre pikemen and dwemmer archers fall into line. It seems they’re not going to just give up.
Mercurius orders us into a line of battle. Luc and he go to the left of the line. The Congl
eton Infantry form up in the centre, with the grenadiers to their left. The light cavalry are on the right of the line and me and Bernard, Tye and Fitheach are on the right, out on the wing. Merlin flies up above the centre. Mercurius shouts orders to the troops. He wants the infantry to advance supported by the grenadiers and us to hold back with the cavalry for his word.
Then Merlin fires some kind of hazy sparkly cloud down from his outstretched hands. The cloud floats down and lands in the middle of ogres. As it settles ninety percent of them get a little translucent triangle icon on their heads and start fighting the ten percent who made their save. Tye mutters to me by way of explanation. ‘Charm Monster. He’s a genius.’
Seeing the confusion in the enemy ranks, Mercurius orders the Congleton Infantry to charge. They advance at a jog then with loud battle cries for King Arthur they run and engage the enemy. It’s mayhem, but even now I can see the blue flashes that show some 5% vorpal chances are triggering. The ogres are nearly gone, at least half haven’t yet saved against Charm Monster, and are still on our side.
There are also dwemmers and orcs to deal with. At Mercurius’s word the grenadiers lob their burning pine-cone sized grenades at the enemy. When they’ve thrown their bombs with loud bangs in the centre of the orc detachment, they close with swords.
Mercurius is standing back. I hear him calling my name. ‘Gorrow, Gorrow!’
I spur Spirit forward so I’m beside him. He says, ‘Take the cavalry, flank them from the right and get behind them and roll them up like a carpet.’
Merlin fires more spells. Some enemy dance. I go back to Tye who’s holding his hands together in awe. ‘Man,’ he says. ‘That Merlin. He’s an enchantment specialist. He’s got them doing crazy things.’
Some enemy are dancing, some are charmed and some are standing stock still just letting our guys attack them. The vorpal swords go snicker-snack, and enemy heads are sliced off to go rolling on the ground.
I haven’t done anything yet, and we’ve still won.
I order the light cavalry to follow me and we go as wide as we can round to the right, crossing the dried-up stream. The enemy are engaged to their fronts by our men. There’s a detachment of boggart swordsmen held in reserve and they see us and respond to us getting behind them, but before they can fully form up, I call out, ‘Charge!’ The cavalry bend forward on their horses, kick the horses’ flanks and gallop with sabres out, shouting loud huzzahs.
I follow to the right, concentrating more on monitoring how the fight is going rather than trying to kill boggarts myself. Tye is firing Flaming Rays and Bernard hurling flask after alchemical flask. Fitheach is snarling, with destructive holy magic flying from his fingertips. ‘Die you damn swine, die!’ he shouts.
I see the sabres of the light cavalry slicing off enemy heads and then the boggarts break and run. Some cavalry are following them as they rout, but I call an order to reform because ahead of us tougher enemy are still holding out. They're fighting our guys to their front and not taking a whole load of notice of us behind them.
When the cavalry are lined up again to my right, smiling from the slaughter they created, I order them to charge into the back of the enemy front line.
It takes mere minutes. The victory is total. Once the enemy forces are broken, I allow the cavalry to go hunting them over field and meadow, taking our long awaited revenge on Satanus’s men for what they did to our people and our fair land.
As the battle ends, I join Mercurius and Merlin who’s landed his carpet on the middle of the battlefield. Tye, Bernard and Fitheach are with me. We’re all very pleased with ourselves.
Mercurius says, ‘These vorpal weapons really made a difference. We destroyed them.’
Then I notice Merlin looking across the way towards the far hedge. He says, ‘Your little friend Deathknife is lurking in the bushes.’
I shake my head. ‘What the hell is he up to?’
‘Want me to fry him?’ Merlin asks.
Before I can answer, Fitheach says, ‘Yes, please.’
Then Merlin mutters a word. The icon of a black skull drops from heaven and hits the shadowy figure on the top of his head. He explodes instantly.
‘What spell was that?’ I ask.
‘Finger of Death,’ Tye says. ‘It was wonderful.’
Mercurius has taken off his helmet to reveal his handsome face, dark skin and aquiline nose. He doesn’t look as impressed as Tye. ‘He’ll be back,’ he says.
27
Wagon Train
We’re back in the Wizard, sipping foaming ale from our pewter tankards and eating piles of chops with boiled onions.
Merlin has a creme de menthe rather than a tankard of ale and it looks pretty and green in a tall glass with crushed ice and a fresh mint leaf on top. ‘Just as you like it, Merlin,’ The NPC barkeep says as he places the glass in front of the wizard.
‘Can I get one of those too?’ Tye says, still in awe of his great hero.
‘Sure,’ the barkeep says, ‘Only it’s usually just Merlin has the creme de menthe and I don’t want to run out.’
Merlin waves away the barkeep’s concerns. ‘Give the lad a creme de menthe. He’s one of our own.’
The barkeep shrugs and looks round the table. There’s Fitheach, me, Bernard on the ale, Tye and Merlin drinking creme de menthe and Mercurius and Luc sipping red wine from Irish crystal long-stemmed glasses. ‘Can I get you guys more drinks?’ The barkeep asks and Bernard bangs his nearly empty tankard on the oak table. The barkeep looks bemused at Bernard’s bad manners. ‘I take it that’s a yes, then?’ he sneers.
Bernard winks. ‘Sure is, kiddo. It’s good. What is this ale called anyway?’
‘Green Man Ale, made locally by pagan halflings.’ Then he shoots a glance at Fitheach. ‘No offence meant, sir saint.’
Fitheach beams. He’s still in a good mood from slaughtering bad guys. ‘None taken, my fine fellow. More ale for me too by the way.’
The barkeep leaves and Merlin sips on his creme de menthe. It leaves a bright green tinge on his moustache which he wipes away with the back of his hand. When he puts the glass down he says, ‘You know, Satanus will always end this one to one, mano a mano, as it were, with Arthur.’
I raise an eyebrow. ‘Really? Why won’t he just crush him from orbit?’
Merlin laughs. ‘Because Satanus thinks Arthur’s a better player than him—’
‘He is,’ Mercurius says firmly.
‘Sure, he is. And Satanus knows that, but to keep face and to show his troops that he’s really better than Arthur, he has to fight him in a final duel.’
I say, ‘Is that why it’s taking him so long to smash Caer? He’s holding back.’
Mercurius speaks now. ‘No, he just can’t take the city.’
‘He will,’ Bernard says. ‘In time.’
Mercurius looks darkly at the alchemist. ‘Don’t underestimate our side, Bernard.’
‘I’m not,’ the alchemist says, ‘but I’ve seen the enemy armies.’
It’s true. Following our victory over the force sent to subdue Alderley Edge, we’ve been watching from the hilltops and seen dark column after dark column of enemy soldiers, cavalry, infantry and beasts heading for Caer. It looks like the Enemy has drained the whole realm of his troops and sent them here to destroy the King at Caer. The rest of the enemy garrisons must be empty. They haven’t bothered to come after us again here, they must be planning to destroy Alderley Edge once they take Caer.
‘But we have the vorpal advantage now,’ Merlin says, resting his bony arms in their long gold sleeves on the oak table while he idly runs a slender finger along the green-stained rim of his half empty glass.
Mercurius says, ‘We’ve equipped all the troops here.’ He looks at me. ‘How many crystals left?’
I shrug. ‘About half. But the crystals aren’t the problem. There will be outcrops of smoky crystals not too far from here.’
‘There are mines on the Edge itself,’ Merlin says. ‘Copper mines.’
/>
I say, ‘Sure as eggs is eggs, there’ll be crystals down there. The real issue is the jabberwock essence. There’s not a jabberwock within a hundred miles at least.’
‘Closest is Silver Drift,’ Bernard says then stops.
Tye cackles and points at the alchemist. ‘You let the cat out of the bag there, Uncle Bernard! Thought you weren’t supposed to tell anyone our secrets.’
Bernard grunts unhappily and shrugs. ‘We’re among friends.’
That’s a change. Bernard is normally suspicious of everyone. He didn’t even trust Merlin and Mercurius recently. I guess he’s finally accepting we’re among allies.
Mercurius says, ‘So how much Jabberwock essence do you have left?’
I say, ‘We have about half a waggon of ordure left.’
Bernard snorts. ‘Just say shit. It’s shit. That’s what it is.’
I ignore him. ‘So, we’ve got enough supplies to equip over a thousand of Arthur’s troops. The trouble is getting into Caer.’
Mercurius sighs. ‘Yes, I don’t think Satanus will let us march in with all his boys through the tunnel entrance.’
I realise time is of the essence now. Arthur can’t have long left. Even if it to end in a duel between him and Satanus, he simply can’t have the troops and resources to hold out much longer. It’s amazing he’s held out so long to be honest.
Luc says, ‘And the dome is tight to the ground all the way round according to the reports. So there’s no other tunnel, not even a crack or a crevice.’
Merlin looks thoughtful. ‘There might be a way.’
We decide on a plan. We will leave a small guard here at Alderley Edge as the enemy don’t seem too interested in taking the place right now and Merlin can put illusions in place so it looks like we still have a lot of troops here.
When we‘re finally ready to leave, I’m mounted on Spirit, sitting next to Mercurius as we both look across the miles to Caer. Most of the enemy armies have already marched west, just a few stragglers visible from our hilltop. The soldiers are marshalled and ready to march off. Merlin stands nearby on his Turkish carpet about to take off. The Sandbach Light Cavalry are in the lead, followed by the Congleton Infantry and the Knutsford Grenadiers. There are also twenty or so halflings in scraps of armour, some odd plates, some chain, but mostly leather or cloth. They’re carrying improvised weapons - picks, shovels, sickles and the odd spear. I ask Mercurius who they are.
