The Three Charms

by Brian Spielbauer

  “Yes. I knew her very well, better than most I should think,” Gulac answered carefully. He was completely interested in the discussion. The door for him to tell his son the secret lay wide open, again. He quarreled within himself over the idea, part of him fighting hard to keep the secret out of the light. The other part wanting nothing more than to bare his soul of the answer to the riddle and embrace the freedom that awaited after the release. Though it pained him so, he once again decided it was not yet the time. While he did not ease his own pain, he thought to try and ease Telon’s, “Do not think less of her. She wanted nothing more than to aid her family. Could not every mother be blamed for that offense?” He paused for a moment, stopping Telon on the steps, “Will you promise me something?”

  Telon noticed the pain in his request, “Of course, anything?” Telon deeply desired to lessen the old dwarf’s pain, for a reason he could not quite place.

  “When all this nonsense is finished, after we are back safely at Tunder Bin and enjoying a fire, can we can sit and have a long talk?” Gulac’s jaw began to shake. Only Telon could save Gulac from this hard moment.

  Telon placed his free hand on Gulac’s shivering arm, comforting him, “I would enjoy that very much.”

  Gulac smiled. To calm his stress, he inhaled deeply as Telon led him further down the stairs. The old dwarf struggled with every step. Whether it was the physical maneuvering of the stairs or the pain inside, Telon did not know. The obvious hurt within Gulac gave Telon second thoughts of whether he should have come at all. Gulac sensed Telon’s concern.

  As Telon helped him into the wagon, with Quelna lifting from the top, Gulac gained his seat and turned to back to Telon, “I do not assume a day and I do not allow the sun or breeze to go thankless. More than that though, they need me here. An old man such as myself is seldom needed anywhere, especially one that lay forgotten in a dungeon for years on end. I may not live to the end of this journey, but I would rather die in need than live in useless comfort. Worry not for me, I could not be happier.”

  Telon smiled, again noticing the twinkle in Gulac’s eye. Telon hoped to live a similar life of need.

  The army readied to depart, with each of the leaders thinking heavily over the scripts that Kyrie read to them. The gargoyle lord joined them, as did one hundred of his best warriors. The total number of gargoyles was still very low, especially ones old enough to fight. Very few survived the last war and it would take Kallay years to replenish their ranks.

  The queen came to the edge of the steps to wave goodbye to Kyrie and their troops. Seeing her, Kyrie flew to the top of the stairs and said his goodbye as embraced her. Their wings wrapped around each other, covering them completely for a moment. Then their wings pulled back and Kyrie flew off to battle. A guard then led Kallay back into the mountain, stoically ready to continue her duties.

  The army marched straight north. Before crossing the ocean to Calonia, they would need to cross the Nubari Desert. Tegan knew there was an army waiting for them somewhere in the wild. It would be looking to stop them, either just before or just after reaching the desert. The Nubari desert was a vast, open space, with little to no water or plants of any kind. It was a cold and barren, especially in the past few years. An unending winter had taken hold in Calonia, with a major drought suffering in Nubari. It had long been a desert but had received almost no rain at all for the past several years, even by desert standards. Tegan believed this was also part of Herrog’s plan, making it that much harder to launch a military offensive against him in Calonia, with an army needing to carry water over vast distances through the punishing desert sands.

  Arlow and his men were determined and knew well how to survive the trip through the dry desert. They taught the dwarves, centaurs and gargoyles how to find the limited water sources, which lay deep under certain plants. They also showed the others how to wrap themselves to keep the biting sand out of their clothing and eyes. The men of Calonia hoped that not only would the winter weather break by their victory, but also the winter of Herrog’s hold over their homeland.

  Tegan’s plan was to skirt the east side of the desert, keeping their trek along the coastal shore. Then, after they reached the mountains and left Nubari behind, they would manage the ice flats covering the sea to the land of Calonia. The first issue, however, was the small topic of the troll army, the one that sought to waylay their advance.

  The trees they were marching through thinned as the sun climbed higher into the sky. The air was cooler and the wind was picking up. They began to notice the stinging sand in the gusty wind, which cautioned them about what lay ahead. It was early afternoon when Tegan abruptly ordered all to make camp. They settled in a shallow valley with a lonely and pitiful stream wallowing in the bottom, it was the last one for several days.

  “An early stop?” Telon asked as the men sat for a break, waiting to hear if they should get out their tents.

  “Yes, but know this is the last stop. After this, there will be no solid rest for many days, only breaks. Urge the men to sleep and eat well and fill their waters in the stream. We will soon enter the desert and it will be several days march to the frozen sea. Life will be much tougher after today,” Tegan answered as he took out his own skins to fill. He did not try to hide the difficulty in the journey ahead.

  Telon did as ordered and soon there were many fires going throughout the valley. The men of all races huddled together in an effort to block the savage winds from ousting their fragile flames. Shortly after the evening meal, a guard reported to Tegan. “King Tegan, three of the boys approach, they appear injured.”

  Tegan, Telon and Erol rose quickly, racing out to meet them. Horrible thoughts rushed through their minds as they only saw Shalkar, Balthar and Meril approach. Balthar was carrying most of the load, with Meril and Shalkar each with wounded arms. They looked weary from their journey.

  “Where are the others?” Telon asked, bracing himself for the worst. They took the small packs the injured dwarves carried and Erol eased Balthar’s load.

  “They trek to Tunder Bin, to finish Daril’s mission,” Shalkar said, his voice soft. “They are taking your axe back to the city. Daril gave it to us in the woods, just before he died.”

  They marched for two days straight to catch up with the army, and the three were completely exhausted. The thoughts of their friends and fears for their safety wore them thin. They hoped Skyler was able to lead them to Tunder Bin without interference.

  Tegan mourned for the loss of Daril. It was the burden of all soldier’s that often the men whom he ordered forth, would die due to their charge. He also mourned for Jaric, who would wear the pain worse.

  “Come with us, we will get you food and drink. Then you can tell us everything,” Tegan said, leading them to his tent.

  “I will get Jaric, he will want to hear this too,” Telon added, sad for the loss of Daril and the pain the news would cause the grizzled old Head of the Guard. The boys sat down by the fire as Tegan gave them water and food. He then began tending to their injuries. Telon brought Jaric, who was eager to hear the news the boys had to offer.

  “Balthar, please tell us what happened,” Tegan asked as he took off Shalkar’s sling. The young dwarf winced in pain as Tegan took off the dressing to the wound, which had dried into the scab.

  Balthar started slowly, wanting nothing more than to avoid telling Jaric his son was dead. “We were heading north through the wild, the terrain was very tough. We marched for several days with no sign of the enemy. But eventually we came upon some trolls who were going to kill a very young troll. Though we questioned it at the time, Skyler had us save him.”

  “You saved a troll? Why? You should have killed them all! What was Skyler thinking?” Jaric interrupted. His hate for trolls more than any other beast. The other boys immediately understood the wisdom of Skyler not to bring Kylee here.

  Balthar stopped, not sure how to respond. Tegan understood the worried and intimidated look in his eye, but also knew Jaric needed to
learn his son’s fate from one who witnessed it.

  “What happened next?” Tegan asked, urging Balthar to continue.

  “We saved the troll boy but not before the others cut his arm off. The rest we slaughtered and then Skyler mended the boy as best he could. Eventually the troll boy, Kylee, was able to travel with us. We continued north, and not more than a day later came upon the huge army of trolls and goblins. It was there that a band of trolls was walking to camp, they had Daril captured.”

  The dwarves present locked onto every word of the story, the news of the other army weighing on them.

  “What of Daril, did you save him, where is he?” Jaric was growing impatient, his heart racing. He looked around, hoping for his mighty son to walk into the camp.

  “We were able free him from the trolls, killing all them. Kylee was the only reason why any of us survived,” Meril treaded lightly, trying to defend saving Kylee and ease into the story of Daril’s passing.

  “So Daril is with the others? Finishing his mission?” Jaric hopefully presumed.

  “No. We did save him from his captors, but his wounds were already severe and he was beyond healing. He died shortly after from the beating he endured at their hands. Just before he passed, he was able to pass Tegan’s axe to Skyler and tell him of his orders to take it back to the city. Delivering to us his mission, he died. I am so sorry.” Balthar never before had to deliver such dreadful news. It tore him apart.

  Jaric’s anger rose, only the pain of the loss of his son exceeding it. He wished he could tell his wife of their son’s death but knew Skyler would need to be the one to deliver the ill news. Jaric stood and left the fire, going to his tent to grieve. Telon let him leave to be alone.

  Δ

  “You have all done well,” Tegan comforted the boys, seeing their distraught looks. “Is there anything else?”

  Balthar shook his head no, wanting to say no more.

  “The army of trolls and goblins, they are coming for us. Their plan is to catch us by surprise when we enter the desert. That is why we hurried to catch you,” Shalkar added as Tegan finished up with his shoulder.

  “King Tegan,” Meril began, having never addressed the King before. His sincere concern evident to Tegan and Telon, “Kylee, the troll boy we saved, will they kill him on sight at Tunder Bin?”

  Tegan looked to Telon, knowing what the end would be if his men were on guard. “I can’t say for sure. It probably most depends on who finds them first.”

  “They can’t! He is our friend! If Kylee had not been there, we would be dead and the axe in the hands of the trolls as we speak. Please send word to them. Can you do that?” Meril tried hard to hold his feelings in check but lost his fight as his question quickly turned into wailing.

  “Meril, I am sorry, I have no way to do that now. It is also likely they have already arrived.” Tegan felt for the boy, but also knew the most likely outcome.

  Telon tried to give them hope, “Skyler and Taylor would lead Kylee in, probably taking him in like a prisoner to buy them time. Worry not for your friend, I feel he will live to see you again.”

  “Go and rest, you have earned it,” Tegan praised the young warriors. Normally such a tribute would have lifted them off the ground, but the sad and drained boys barely noticed it.

  Tegan and Telon sat alone as the three boys trudged toward Tegan’s tent to rest, escorted by one of his guards.

  “So, an army awaits us in the desert. We cannot afford to get bogged down in a fight there before we even reach Calonia,” Telon insisted to his brother.

  Tegan sent another guard for the other kings and then replied, “You are right. Our next step must be weighed very carefully.”

  When the others arrived, Tegan told them all he knew, sharing with them the news the boys carried.

  Dorir listened intently to Tegan and then he spoke to the group, “The army waiting for us, even though anticipated, is bad news. We expected it from the start, but now knowing where it waits is a tremendous advantage. The boys are to be commended for saving the troll boy and getting the information to us in time.”

  “What if we turned the tables on the enemy? Having the greater sized force, they should wait until the open desert so as not to allow us anywhere to hide from their assault. We should send only a fraction of our forces into the desert at first, as a ruse. Then, we wait for the attack to commence before countering with our full force, only after the enemy has shown its hand,” Fiji proposed.

  “I will need to lead the forces to draw them out,” Tegan added, “but if we catch them unaware it gives us the best chance of shattering them. We will need a quick rout if we are to advance to Calonia with enough spirit to finish this.” Tegan looked to the Centaurs and Arlow, thinking they would lead the hooved warriors to the battle last, “You will need to be quick to the battle to save us, or we will be finished.”

  Dorir assured, “We will be more than ready, the moment they show themselves, our forces will descend upon them in great fury.” Dorir, more than most, needed to discard this enemy quickly to try and save his daughter.

  The leaders agreed, and a quarter of every race went with Tegan and King Dorir in the first group. Arlow decided to go with the dwarf kings, leading a small number of his men. Bryon would lead the rest into the battle. The next morning, they would enter the desert with just over one thousand warriors. The second group of the forces, led by Fiji and Erol, Belgin and Gile, would wait in hiding for the moment of need.

  Bryon and Kyrie led their people and waited with Cergon and the centaurs for the signal of the third wave to attack. They would be able to quickly come down on the enemy and hope to drive a stake into the heart of the troll army. Timo, the dwarf wizard who was now strong beyond comprehension, waited back also. His special plan for the battle fully brewed in his imagination.

  Quelna stayed with Gulac, keeping well away from the battle. He protected the elder dwarf who was very anxious about the fight, having not been close to one in over forty years. “I would not hold up long, but I will keep my sword close just in case,” Gulac mumbled as he unsheathed his sword with trepidation.

  “Do not worry. Tegan has this quite under control. We will watch from afar. I assure you, nothing will bother us during this battle.” Quelna comforted Gulac, who would not let go of his sword though the weight of it soon became too much for him to sustain. He let it rest next to him in the wagon. In truth, he would have enjoyed using his sword one last time.

  Tegan and his troops were ready to march, their tents and belongings long since packed as the sun rose in the west. The rest of the forces retreated under the cover of night, hoping for the enemy that was sure to be spying on them to feel confident the entire force was marching forward.

  Tegan had his smaller force spread wide to give the appearance of a larger group as they confidently marched into the desert. His men sang songs of victory, trying not to look too concerned of what would soon fall upon them. The openness of the land meant there would be no hiding. The enemy force, both troll and goblin, were confident they had the greater number of forces and the advantage.

  Tegan led them into the desert, passing the last pathetically sad tree behind. The tree begrudged its planting spot, often wishing its roots had never taken hold. The sight of it consumed Telon’s thoughts, as he many times questioned his own planting spot. He looked at the men around him, knowing each of their families. Some were rich and advantaged, while others were far from that. He saw many men who overcame their meager start to excel mightily in their kingdom and knew also of many who fell despite their great start, their advantaged planting place. The thought tore Telon, not knowing whether to cheer for the tree for its defiant survival or curse it for its tired look.

  The sandy dunes, haunted with patches of dead grass and a smattering of long dead trees, spoke of a different time. The cold wind from the north smashed hard against their faces, as did the sand it carried. Most of the men wrapped their heads in long cloths to fend off the sand they
would soon grow to hate. Despite their thorough coverings, the persistent sand infiltrated every crease of their bodies.

  Tegan rode Elard as they weaved through the wavy dunes and soon they entered a low-lying area. It surrounded them on three sides by hills of sand and on the right the open cold sea. Long ago, there lay a ravine that carried water through this lush valley. No hint of it remained, with sand completely covering it, filling it a little more with every passing day.

  Sand blustered hard off the north ridge, making it difficult to see as most of the men ducked their heads low. Tegan kept his senses keen, his hand covering his eyes as he peered untrustingly at the ridge ahead. If he were planning an attack, this would certainly be the place and undoubtedly the moment. His thoughts were dead on.

  The trolls burst forth, launching their eager assault. In countless numbers, they began hurdling the ridge of the dune, lubing down the soft slope toward their target. Each giant step kicking up even more sand with every clumsy stomp and stammer. The wind became the ally of the trolls, enthusiastically slinging the loosened sand like small missiles at the dwarf led army. Unseen goblins lofted arrows from beyond the ridge to soften the already thin dwarf line, beating the trolls to the dwarves by just a few steps.

  “Draw in the ranks, shields up,” Tegan ordered his troops. The shields rose only a moment before the first arrows dropped out of the sky. With the army spread thin, many of the arrows, which hunted for dwarf flesh, fell miserably into the sand. More fought for their target, the sound like that of heavy hail pelting the mountain side filled the sandy bowl as the dastardly arrows riveted into the strong metal shields of the dwarves. Several of the dwarfs carried the wounds of the sinister arrows, which were far too many to block them all.