Several brave dwarf soldiers did not live past the first volley, skewered by the determined arrows of the assailants. Reinforcements immediately filled their places, as there was no time for mourning the dead.
“Form the line!” Tegan and Telon ordered. Their voices were barely able to carry through the howling winds, but each dwarf passed the message quickly as they sprinted into place. The brothers repeated the order often as they raced up and down their dwarf lines on their strong cats. They urged the dwarves to hold stout, hoping to stop the first onslaught and wait for help before the enemy delivered the second blow.
The lines quickly formed, the enormous trolls pummeled them. They slammed recklessly into the shield and spear. The immense girth of the trolls knocked the dwarves and men backward into the loose sand. The numbers of the troll and goblin army were greater than had ever been seen. The dwarves used their long spears to skewer the trolls from behind the safety of their shields, with many of their foe wailing in pain even as more arrived at the front line from above.
Goblins also poured over the rim, eagerly filling the battle cauldron. Their grotesque king, Chahula, led the goblin assault. The goblins were eternally cowards, always relying on trolls to do their heavy work for them. Only the direct threat of Herrog, coupled with his promise of the prized city of Tunder Bin as a reward, brought the worm dwelling goblins from their holes. The slugs emerged into the sun for the first time in many a year from their stolen mountain realm next to Tunder Bin.
“Great day fer da battle, eh!” Chahula grumbled to his father. Chahula looked to his sire, but as usual, no answer came. It was not exactly his father, but more his father’s head. As was their custom, Chahula carried a club with the skull of his deceased father on the top of it. Many said they did so to remind the king of the fleeting life they led and their inescapable destiny of death. As was usual for him, Chahula talked to the head, asking advice of his past king. It was a gruesome practice, not only in looks, but also in the smell that warned many of the presence of the goblin king long before the sight of him came into vision.
Timo watched the battle unfold below him, having left the safety of Tegan’s army. He walked around the rim, seeking the highest spot. He found his desired perch at the point the goblins just left open when they entered the sand filled valley. He was too small for the goblins to notice and seemingly insignificant for them to care about.
The enemy sought to flush the dwarf army into the sea. With a drooling frenzy, their eyes sparkled at the thought of a Lemuria with no dwarves. More importantly, with no order. A land ruled by goblins and trolls and all such heinous creatures who zealously sought death and destruction was their prize. The troll and goblin forces wreaked havoc on the much smaller dwarf army when, as planned, Dorir and the rest joined the fray.
First over the rim came Belgin, Erol and Gile. They kicked up their own storm of terror as they crashed and burned one troll after another. The dwarf foes seemed little worried about the new entries to the fight as the troll and goblin forces continued to spill into the battle from their own ridge. They pressed all the combatants ever closer together. The bodies of the dead and living were slowly piling up. It soon became impossible to find solid footing, as many stood on the dead or dying, lest their body add to the pile.
The enemy shielded the ogres and Gile from reaching Tegan’s forces. There were just too many in the bowl to break through. The three found it difficult to move without killing any of their own. Dorir and his band of dwarves rushed over the ridge also, following the hardened path left by the last of the goblins. They ferociously slayed many of the goblins at the rear, holding the higher ground to fight from.
The ogres, Gile, and Dorir’s men fully engaged the enemy, which in turn pinned Tegan’s group down at the bottom. Bryon’s men, the centaurs and the gargoyles joined the fray, driving a forceful wedge into the goblin army from their side.
Tegan saw his moment and need, “Push to the north, we can stay here no longer!” He and Arlow urged their men to fight for the north rim, with many falling on both sides in the hasty rush for survival. The goblins and trolls tried desperately to keep the dwarves pinned in, not wanting their victims, or their dreams of domination, to slip away like the sand in the whipping wind.
Dorir’s forces held the ridge, keeping the enemy corralled in the pit below. Kyrie and his soldiers flew over the battle, keeping the trolls occupied as they fought them just out of the troll’s reach. Tegan, Telon and Arlow finally reached the northern edge of the slope, with the remnants of their troops surviving the dreadful day. The goblins and trolls frantically tried to give chase, but the dwarf forces turned to keep them at bay.
Erol looked up to see Tegan waving his flag, signaling it was time to go. The other forces at Tegan’s disposal held the high ground, save the ogres and Gile. “Burn us a path out of here!” Erol yelled to Gile. The dragon reared up, with all their friends either dead or safely to the ridge, and spewed fire into the foe in his path. The burning blast made crystals of the enemy as the heat melted the sand filled air. Belgin then led the charge as the two ogres, with Gile behind, rushed hard for the rim. The push was difficult as the sands of the dune, loosened by the battle and many footsteps, gave away beneath their feet. Every step seemed to start where the last one did, or, if anything, a little farther behind.
They shattered the many troll and goblin statues in front of them and trampled the live enemy that tried to slow their escape. The bodies of the trolls and goblins allowed them traction as they progressed to the falling ridge. The troll forces turned and attempted to flee to the high ground that continued to slide toward them. Dorir’s troops and the centaurs had to back away as the cliff of sand kept falling in, threatening to take all that remained below as payment for the destruction wreaked upon it. The sinister sand was slowly burying the bodies, both alive and dead.
Timo strode forth, waving his arms and chanting as he stood at the rim overlooking the evil below him. He brewed up a savage sand storm that blocked out all sight. Every living thing vainly tried to shield their eyes from the sandblast that drilled into their skin. The whirling winds wrestled ever more sand from the desert, recruiting its own army to finish the fight. The dwarf army covered themselves too, running wildly for ever higher ground as the sands began pouring faster over the ridge and into the hole below. The frantic trolls and goblins attempted to flee, but the winds knocked them back and ever down. Its unrelenting blast covered them up in building layers of sand as they tumbled over the uneven ground of mangled bodies, many of which were still struggling to survive.
Belgin, Erol and Gile made a last desperate push to reach the top, with Erol the first to gain it. Belgin quickly joined him. But when Erol turned to find Gile, he could not see his friend in the pool of sand. Belgin saw the look of horror on Erol’s face.
“No!” Belgin bellowed, but it was too late. Erol rushed back into the loose grave of sand. He plunged head first into it, diving deep into the unsettled soot. Belgin ran back in also, blindly reaching into the mush for Erol, trying save his son.
At the last Belgin’s searching hands found their mark, his arm went taut. He struggled to pull Erol out, the weight of his son too much with the sand fighting hard to keep its prize. He could feel Erol’s body losing its strength even as the pool of death pulled him farther in. Kyrie saw the happening and urgently flew to their aid. The gargoyle, strongest of his kind, grabbed a hold and pulled on Belgin.
Cergon and several of his centaurs threw Kyrie a rope, aiding his efforts. All pulling together helped Erol’s hand finally emerge. The rest of his massive body was soon to follow as he spit out bushels of sand and gasped for each breath as he continued to pull.
Timo saw his efforts succeeded. He commanded the storm to relent and the winds quickly died out.
The line continued their struggle to pull. They quickly realized the reason for the difficulty as Erol’s other hand held a prize. He was pulling on Gile, unwilling to give up on his friend. Neither
troll, goblin, nor death would prevent Erol from saving the dragon. Others also joined to help, as they saved Gile from the sands burying him alive. He quickly hopped out of the loose sand, as the three swam their way to the solid ground, scampering onto the harder rim of the dune.
The storm was completely finished but where once there stood an open valley, now a completely filled one remained. A smooth slope of sand, at least one hundred paces deeper than it was before, extended far out into the still open cold waters of the sea. The dwarf army stood in amazement at the power of the dwarf wizard, whose skills now rivaled Quelna.
“Look,” Telon alerted, pointing to the far south ridge. In the distance, a few goblins and trolls, led by King Chahula and his father’s head, escaped the shifting sands. The quickly scampered off to the south, hoping to remain unseen.
“Should we pursue them?” Bryon asked, ready to charge.
“No, our business lies to the north. We will get them in time.” Tegan’s sights were set. It was time to go for Milan.
The first battle of the war was over. It was a decisive victory for King Tegan and those who pledged their allegiance to him. While more were lost in the battle than they desired or planned for, their numbers were still great as they prepared to head north again.
Quelna, Gulac and the three dwarf boys rode slowly up on the covered wagon. “Quite impressive Timo, quite impressive,” Quelna spouted. Timo was proud of his service and the praise that lauded him.
“One army down and one to go,” Telon announced, a large cheer from the victorious warriors surrounding him. Tegan noticed the look on Shalkar’s face and went to him. The rest of the soldiers tended to the injured while Dorir and Fiji stood by Tegan and Telon.
“What is it Shalkar?” Tegan asked, the young dwarf looking worried.
Shalkar confided with Balthar and Meril and then looked back to Tegan, “It is hard to say sir, but how many of the enemy do you think are buried here?”
“Well, it would be tough to count, but I should say there was almost as many of them as us. A pretty good victory, wouldn’t you say?” Tegan, answered, not understanding Shalkar’s worry. He would not have to wait long to grasp it.
“That wasn’t the entire army, not by a third,” Balthar blurted out as he worriedly looked about, as if another army would present itself at any time.
“Not the one we saw at least. Maybe there are more than you think?” Meril added, asking Tegan.
The dwarf lords had much to think about, only at this point fully realizing the total force that would stand against them. “This will not be a quick fight,” Fiji stated.
“If Herrog has armies this large, wielding them from far off as we would a search party, what size of force awaits us when we arrive to his fortress?” Telon asked, looking to the others for answers.
Before any more doubt could be raised, Tegan set straight the path, “I do not know, but we are going to find out!”
Chapter 16: The Axe Wielder
Skyler, Taylor and Kylee fought through the gnarled forest that grudgingly gave way to them on the trek toward Tunder Bin. Even though he desired to get there quickly, Skyler thought it best to stay off the easily watched roads. A little over a day out from leaving Balthar and his crew and with evening coming on, Skyler finally called for them to rest.
“We are starting again early in the morning. I hope to be there before nightfall tomorrow eve,” Skyler snarled to his companions as he dropped his pack. His anger toward Taylor went unspent on the long difficult march. “Taylor, gather some food. We will set the camp.”
Skyler started making the fire as Kylee tried to set up a tent. Kylee wanted to ask a question but was fearful of further upsetting Skyler.
“What will they think of me in your city,” Kylee sheepishly asked. He thought the rest of the dwarves of Tunder Bin would shun him, or even worse.
Skyler certainly spent time thinking about it and understood that Kylee had a right to be concerned. He set aside his anger for the moment and sought to comfort Kylee. “You are with us. They will accept you because we have. The same occurred with a dragon Erol befriended. We hate dragons even more than we hate trolls, but allowances were made,” Skyler laughed as he said it. Kylee didn’t. He kept replaying in his mind what it would be like, and none of his visions went well.
“You would not want to go there alone, as I doubt you would get any words out before they ran you through.” Skyler added the last part. Kylee did laugh and turned to see Skyler straight faced. “Seriously, you would not want to go alone.”
Kylee turned back to the tent, uneasy again. Skyler watched as Kylee, with only one arm, put the tent up in no time. He was amazed at how fast Kylee had adapted to the loss of his arm. He was a very determined troll.
Taylor returned with an array of berries and a small squirrel. Not much for the three of them, but enough to get them home. After the meal, they laid down for the night. “Should I take watch?” Taylor asked, trying to get back in Skyler’s good graces.
“We are pretty close to home. I doubt anything would mess with us here. Go to sleep, we will be fine. I will be up for a while anyway.” Kylee was already asleep as Taylor lay down. Skyler intended to stay up, but his tiredness overcame his will, and he too fell into a deep slumber.
A screeching roar that shattered the silence in the early morning announced, loud and clear, the need for a watch. The three jolted to the feet, dashing for their weapons. The second roar was directly overhead and caused them to cover their ears for protection. None of them had heard that sound before, for only the harpies in the far off Mammut Berge knew it well.
Then the first of two winged Tolltier landed by the fire, huffing a vicious roar. The wind from his wings ignited the last of the whispering coals of the fire, which blazed forth again with the dry leaves kicked over it by the gust. The beast stood twice the size of Taylor, its chest as wide as all three. It eyed the dwarves and paused as the other landed hard just behind it, a twin of the first. More leaves blew onto the blaze, causing the fire to roar higher. The flames separated the Tolltier from the dwarves, but only for a blustery moment.
Skyler bravely stepped forward and in front of his two companions. He never faced anything like this before and fought hard to quell his building terror. He heard Tegan and Erol speak of fighting these beasts, and forever in his heart hoped he would never have to face one.
The Tolltier stood side by side and barked fearsome growls at the three. They stammered back at each deafening howl. Then, in the twinkle of an eye, they sprang at the two dwarves and their troll friend as the flames from the leaves abated. Though frightened beyond all reckoning, it was not the dwarf’s first battle and their instincts kicked in without delay.
Skyler contended with the first, whirling and spinning with all his might and focus. He would not allow the Tolltier an easy target. Skyler and Taylor delivered many slashes to the beast in the first moments of the encounter, but mere cuts would not take these things down. The Tolltier took each wound unnoticed and unfazed, striding ever closer to their feisty foe. Both dwarves held a sword in one hand and axe in the other, the four blades sparkling in the light of the fire like lightening bugs churning in the night.
Taylor’s Tolltier caught him with a swipe that brushed his head, knocking him hard to the ground. Had it caught him directly, it would have taken his head clean off. As it was, he laid stunned in the dirt, trying to regain his balance.
The Tolltier would not allow that, as it stepped quickly toward the fallen dwarf. The Tolltier brought his dagger clawed hand smashing down toward Taylor, who never saw it coming. The arm was stopped mid-swing by Kylee, who jumped in the battle to the save his friend. Kylee first blocked the arm, the force of it almost crushing the small troll. His resolve held true, and to the Tolltier’s surprise, the strength of the one-armed troll began pushing him back. Kylee then whirled and brought his sword across the shoulder of the stunned Tolltier, relieving it on one of its appendages. The two one-armed warriors then t
urned circles around the other, closely measuring their next moves.
Taylor saw the arm drop as he regained his footing and tried to wipe the dizziness from his head. Kylee triumphantly stood between Taylor and the angry Tolltier, but soon realized his own peril. The Tolltier brought his other fist against the side of Kylee’s skull, cracking several of his teeth that burst from his bloody mouth. Kylee fell hard against Skyler’s pack, his short-lived victory a thing of the past.
Skyler was falling back, losing ground with every missed swing from the Tolltier and he was quickly running out of room. He ducked under a fist and countered with jab of his sword that skewered the arm of the Tolltier, who knew no pain.
The moving Tolltier ripped the sword from Skyler’s hands, so he pulled his small knife. It was the last weapon he had available. The Tolltier continued his assault toward Skyler, grabbing the dwarf by the throat. His massive hands beginning to crush the terrified boy’s neck. Skyler was down to his last chance and he stuck the angry Tolltier through the eye with his blade. The stabbed beast violently threw Skyler toward the fire, where his head banged hard against a rock. He passed out. Even if he woke before the next attack, he had no weapon.
Taylor fought hard. He was able to stick the Tolltier he fought several times with his blade. He was quickly tiring though, and nothing seemed to faze the beast. Taylor saw Skyler thrown across their camp but he could not help him. In an act of desperation, he lunged into the Tolltier, leading with his sword. He drove it into his enemy, the beast’s girth fighting the advance. The Tolltier clawed Taylor’s side, crushing several ribs as Taylor also flew toward the fire, landing next to Skyler. The Tolltier he fought fell back, with Taylor’s sword still stabbing his heart. It screamed, knowing his life was soon to end.
The remaining Tolltier stalked the two fallen dwarves, preparing to feast. Taylor was conscious, but could not stand due to his severe injuries. Skyler lay still, knocked out and unable to help. Kylee watched the Tolltier approach his friends. He needed to help and searched frantically on the ground for a weapon, but only Skyler’s bag was close. He put his hand in and pulled out the axe. “You are far too beautiful to get blood on, and I sure hope you are sharp enough to kill these things!” he thought to himself.
The Three Charms Page 20
