The Three Charms

by Brian Spielbauer

  The two dwarves laughed. Both were glad they had survived the ordeal. Soon, they would be ready to rejoin the army.

  Chapter 17: Desperate Times

  Tegan sent many watchers out to try to find the rest of the troll and goblin army the dwarf boys spoke of, but they found no clues to their whereabouts. He continued to lead the army north, fighting through the desert winds and sand, rarely stopping to rest. Tegan pressed hard to clear the desert, fearful of yet another attack from the trolls and the mental strain as his army wallowed in the sands. He needed to reach the forest that framed the northern end of the desert before he allowed his army to set up camp again. Until then, he would not relent, pushing his men to the brink as they slogged through the hated sands.

  The winds blew ever stronger the farther north they marched, the invisible enemy’s last gasp to try and delay their progress. Despite the hindrance, Tegan’s forces persevered and were finally able to make out the rising hills and trees in the distance. The sand was still present, but it mixed with, and soon covered by, freezing snow. The army struggled to stay warm in the bitter temperatures. They were eager for fires and a hot meal that awaited at the end of their day’s march. Tegan sent a watcher centaur ahead and he rode back hard toward the marching troops, galloping to a hastened stop by Cergon.

  “Lord, there is a person walking toward the shore from the ice. He seems weak and is barely able to walk.”

  Cergon looked to Tegan, “I will bring him to you.”

  Telon was too interested to wait, “I’m going too.” Telon, riding Bramble and Cergon rode with the watcher. They passed the outskirts of the forest, their feet more than happy to be rid of the loose sands of Nubari. They reached the icy shores overlooking the desolate frozen sea. Laid out before them was an endless landscape of ice stretching as far as their eyes could see. As the watcher said, there was a small man there, stumbling aimlessly across the icy landscape. The wind was cutting him down as he tried valiantly to escape the ice.

  Telon and Cergon raced toward the little man, who fell to the ground just as they reached him. Telon jumped off Bramble and ran to the person lying in the snow, too weak to fend off the freezing cold in the least. “It is an elf, of the kind Skyler and his men spoke of.”

  Telon lifted the little man, carefully laying him across Cergon’s back. He covered the elf in a small blanket and Cergon held the elf with a hand to ensure he wouldn’t fall as he turned and departed for the shore. Telon again mounted Bramble and raced to catch up with the Centaur and the two carefully carried the elf back to the Tegan. When they arrived, Tegan had the army setting up camp on the south side of the forest to get out of the wind. It was not far from where Skyler and the boys had started their fire not long ago.

  Fires were already springing up among the camp when Telon delivered the elf to Tegan’s tent. They gave him water and food, which he weakly took in as he lay, curled up tight by the fire. He shivered uncontrollably, his teeth chittering loudly as the wind continued to howl outside. Tegan called for Shalkar, Balthar and Meril. The three quickly came, intrigued by the news of the discovered elf.

  As they entered, Shalkar exclaimed, “Rufus, what has happened?” The three quickly knelt down by the elf, as Balthar rubbed his legs, trying to warm the frozen figure that lay before them.

  Rufus opened his eyes and seeing Shalkar he jolted awake. “What? Where am I? I need help,” the startled elf proclaimed through his chattering teeth.

  “Easy, you are safe here,” Tegan comforted, stepping alongside Shalkar.

  “Who are you?” Rufus asked untrustingly, sliding away from Tegan.

  “I am Tegan, King of the Dwarves of Tunder Bin.”

  “The King of Tunder Bin? Have I walked that far south! Where am I?” the delirious elf asked, wondering if he was in a dream.

  “You have only crossed the ice covering the sea, not that it isn’t far enough. You are on the border of the northern tip of Lemuria. What has happened to you Rufus?” Shalkar enquired, wanting to know news of the other elves.

  Remembering his mission, Rufus became frantic. “We need to go! The elves are in grave danger. Herrog has discovered us and he is coming. There is no hiding from his wretched dogs!” He began hysterically looking around, seeing what and who was around.

  “Calm, we will help you,” Tegan reassured the panicky elf.

  Rufus sat back, suspiciously eyeing the dwarves that were standing in the tent. The fire warmed his body and calmed his nerve, allowing him to speak far more clearly, “Many pardons, but it will take much more than a few dwarves to save my people.” Rufus felt as though he let the elves down, as he was unable to find sufficient help to get them out in time.

  “Rufus,” Shalkar began, “There are quite a few more than us. We have an army with us of dwarves, men and centaurs. Our mission is to free the entire land of Calonia.”

  Rufus began to realize that maybe he did have reason to hope.

  “To do far more than that,” Tegan added to Shalkar with determined look, “We came to end Herrog and his reign on your land.”

  Rufus could not believe what he was hearing, “You would need a terribly large army for that.”

  “Yes, you are right,” Telon said, smiling to the others. “Shalkar, if Rufus here has the strength, perhaps you could show him the size of our forces. Then he might judge for himself our power.”

  “I have the strength!” Rufus shot back defensively as he stood, wrapping himself in a blanket for warmth. Shalkar took him outside and led him around the camp. They first passed the thousands of armed dwarves huddling closely by their fires. Next, they saw the centaurs, who stayed close to each other for warmth.

  “They sure have an angry look in their faces,” Rufus spoke to Shalkar of the centaurs, leaning in close. It was the inevitable fate of the centaurs, and their dour impressions, that whoever met them for the first time would think them in a foul mood.

  “They aren’t too bad, when you get to know them,” Shalkar explained.

  “How many do you know?” Rufus inquired.

  “None yet,” Shalkar said in a whisper as they approached the men and their fires.

  “These are the human men,” Shalkar said, stopping quick as he noticed Rufus halt. He dodged close to the sour centaurs, trying to hide from the men. “What are you doing?” Shalkar demanded.

  Rufus sought to stay hidden and was slow to answer. He spent his whole life avoiding humans at all cost. The centaurs did not like being part of the apparent game and kept dancing away from Rufus. “Men, human men! We must hide!” The centaur grew more irritated with every step of the small elf.

  “They are our friends, you need not fear them.” Shalkar finally got control of Rufus and turned to see Bryon standing in front of both him and Rufus. He held the elf’s arm and felt his hairs standing straight up. His body became rigid and started to shake, but this time it was not from the cold.

  “So, this is an elf that lives in our forest?” Bryon questioned.

  Shalkar’s disposition quickly changed, his demeanor became as sharp and course as the centaur’s tail hair. “Now hold on!” Rufus protested, stepping in front of Shalkar, forgetting his peril. “Hiding in your forest you say? Tis not true, tis not. That is our forest and our land you built that substandard city on. So easily it fell to the enemy, barely leaned on it they did, knocking it to the ground! And what a waste, killing the nice trees and tearing up the beautiful earth with your nasty plows. You should be quite ashamed of yourselves! And the land is yours you say? We were here long before you arrived.” His fear quickly became a thing of the past as Rufus stared eye to eye with Bryon, who knelt to get a good look at the elf. Bryon studied the elf, admiring his vigor to defend his land and people.

  “Rufus is it?” Bryon asked Shalkar, who nodded approvingly. Bryon then looked back to the elf, “Rufus, I assure you we were not aware of your previous inhabitance of the land where we built our city, which is both a tribute to your ability to build a hidden village and a shami
ng to my people for their inability to find it. For that matter, we were not aware of your existence, other than rumor of small creatures in the trees. Come with me, we will go see the King. He will be interested to hear of our intrusion into your world. When this fighting is all complete, perhaps some of these wrongs can be rectified.”

  Bryon took Rufus’s hand and led him into their camp. The two walked up to a large ring of fire surrounded by tents. Bryon led Rufus through the throng, with all sitting there stopping their conversation at the sight of the little man who walked as if out of a fairy tale. Rufus’s discomfort returned with a vengeance as he felt all eyes on him, his courage disappeared faster than the heat of the fire on this cold evening. Soon, the little elf stood before the King.

  Arlow slid over on the large skin he was sitting on, giving room for Rufus to sit next to him. “King Arlow,” Bryon said with a bow, “This is Rufus. He is of the elves that reside in our forest.”

  Rufus shot Bryon a look to kill, causing Bryon to correct himself. “I mean, in the forest surrounding our town, a town we built on their land using their trees.” He smiled as he said the last to Arlow, who understood quite well the insinuated transgression toward the once believed mythical elves of the woods.

  “Please, sit, Rufus of the elves of the woods,” Arlow invited, with Rufus quickly sitting. Rufus saw the food and drink, his hunger taking the forefront.

  “We would love to offer you some food,” Bryon began, “but I must first warn you the vegetables you see before you came from our nasty fields and nasty plows. Can you bare to eat food grown in such a manner?”

  Rufus paused for only a moment before reaching for the food, “Desperate times call for desperate measures,” he chortled as he gulped down several bites. “We are at war, and when at war small things must be overlooked!” The men laughed at the little elf. Rufus held court for quite some time, telling the tales and trials of his land. He also told the elves’ view of the human arriving to their shores. He finally told them of how the elves avoided the humans.

  Towards the end of the evening, he and Arlow promised each other to sit and make decisions together for how to share the land and save its beauty. Shalkar then helped Rufus to his feet and they headed back to their tent, but not before skirting the camp of the gargoyles, of whom Rufus was terribly frightened.

  “Maybe tomorrow we can meet them, I have already seen far too much tonight,” Rufus muttered to Shalkar as the hurriedly walked past the menacing warriors.

  Rufus could not believe the final sight of the evening, as they walked through an area where centaurs, dwarves, gargoyles and men all shared the same fires and food.

  “Wonders never cease,” Rufus gasped. Belgin, Erol and Gile, in particular impressed Rufus. He had never seen ogres or dragons before. The thousands of soldiers gave Rufus hope, and hope was not something he had risked in a long time.

  “What do you think?” Shalkar asked. He was quite proud of the army and felt certain it would be enough to finish the mission.

  Rufus gave him a funny look, one that did not sit well with Shalkar as they entered Tegan’s tent.

  After entering and sitting again, Tegan offered Rufus a plate of stew. Rufus hungrily accepted it and for the second time that night, he ate to his full.

  “How do you feel about us now?” Tegan asked.

  Rufus weighed his words carefully, chewing a large piece of meat and forcing a swallow before taking a long drink. He then looked to Tegan, “I feel we have a chance to save the elves that are still free and get them to safety. I have less hope, and pardon me for saying so, in your desire to take down Herrog. I think it best that we save the elves and depart for your fair city to the south.”

  “That will not happen.” Tegan said curtly. “We come to save my wife, the Queen of Tunder Bin, who is held captive in Herrog’s dungeons. We will not leave without her. Do you not desire to take Herrog down?”

  Rufus was not one to be curt, but was also not one to lie. He set down his plate and stared Tegan in eye, “King Tegan, Lord of Tunder Bin, I am sorry for your wife. But it is my belief that the forces you have, though formidable, are not enough to do what you intend, perhaps not by half. Should you decide to attack Herrog, if you can find him, I fear the annihilation of your forces. I pray I am wrong but that is my belief. I have come too far and too much is at stake to pretend things are anything less than they are.”

  “Have you seen his forces?” Tegan asked, perturbed by the elf.

  “Only scouts and small groups,” Rufus replied, locked in a trance with the King.

  “So, Rufus of the elves, how could you presume the size of their forces?” All eyes in the tent darted from one challenger to the other.

  “I have lived here for years. I saw the force some five years ago decimate the army of men like a bump in the road. I have seen the troops who always march in but never march out. We can feel the evil moving through our forest in the night. No, I have not seen them. Have you?” Rufus asked back, knowing there would be no reply.

  The tension was high in the tent. Tegan was too angry to speak, seldom was he challenged so. Rufus would not break eye contact with Tegan, wanting him to realize his resolve was strong also.

  The silence was broken as Gulac, who Timo helped, as he hobbled into the tent. He heard an elf was there and wanted to meet him. Gulac smiled upon seeing Rufus. “An elf! My word, an elf! I never thought I should see one again,” he said as he left Timo and kneeled before Rufus, breaking the silent standoff between the two. He studied Rufus, which made the elf quite uncomfortable.

  “My pardon, have we met?” Rufus asked. He leaned back from Gulac, having never seen the dwarf before.

  “No, we have not, at least I doubt it. Many years ago, though, I spent some time in your city in the trees. I was looking for the Herrog’s hidden castle even then. I stayed with a family, one with a little boy named….” He struggled to remember the name but then it came to him. “Rufus, Rufus was his name. Is he with you?”

  Rufus grew excited, “Yes, yes, that is me! I do remember you now, sitting with my father and talking late into the night. Do you remember Argus? He sent me here to find help. He hoped to hold up long enough, hiding from Herrog and his damned dogs! Always sniffing they are! We were running out of scents to throw them off with.”

  “Yes, I remember your father. He was a great and trusted friend of mine, before…” Gulac stopped, his words quickly trailing off. His story was leading him back to the dungeons, and any time his thoughts went there, he would quickly shut down. It was as if his mind would not allow the memory considered.

  Rufus shook his head as he looked at Tegan, not fully noticing Gulac’s pain, “If we don’t help my people soon, they will be killed or taken prisoners. Elves do not last long in the dungeons.” The thought brought him a shudder, considering what he had heard of such places.

  Rufus’s words pulled Gulac back out, allowing him to re-engage. He looked to Tegan as he came back to the others, “We will help them, won’t we?” The sincerity of the request was not lost on those who saw it.

  “Of course, on our way to save Milan,” Tegan insisted, eyeing Rufus. “We will free them, but we will need help with directions from there. Rufus, can you help us with that?”

  “Directions to the evil fortress?” Rufus posed, unwilling to believe his ears. “For the life of me, I cannot understand you people and your obsessions with looking for such vile places! Why in the name of Calonia would anyone search for such a place?” The elf was beside himself, pacing back and forth before the fire, arguing with himself aloud. He then looked to the dwarves, who were curiously watching the little elf, “We never looked for it! Why would you look for such a thing?”

  “I think, I hope at least, that if we can get to the home of the elves, from there I believe I can find it,” Gulac insisted.

  “It is settled then, Rufus will lead us to the home of the elves. From there we will march on Herrog’s castle under Gulac’s direction.” Tegan announc
ed to all within the ring. Dorir was there too, happy with every step that led him closer to his daughter.

  All agreed on the plan. The closer Gulac came to the location, the better he felt about leading the rest to Herrog. They ate to their full and kept as warm as they could. Rufus, after calming down from the frustrating dwarves, fell asleep leaning on Tegan.

  Rufus woke when Tegan was preparing a bed for him, “Lord, make no mistake of me. I intend to do everything in my power to help you. But I greatly fear for the safety of my people, and of yours. I will aid you in any way I can.”

  “I understand. You are a good man, Rufus. But I ask of you, do not underestimate my determination to bring my wife home. Nothing will stop me.” Tegan asserted.

  Rufus smiled. Though he did not underestimate Tegan or his purpose, he knew Tegan underestimated the forces of Herrog and their power.

  The following morning the winds died down. The sun rose and warmed the day, at least a little. The army set out across the ice-covered sea. It would take them at least a day to cross frozen ocean and reach the island of Calonia.

  Cergon and his centaurs led the way for the marching army. The gargoyles filed within the ranks of the dwarves, not wanting to give away anything to the enemy. The men took up the rear. Belgin, Erol and Gile went ahead, searching for the best path. It was quite easy for the rest to follow their trail through the snow and ice.

  Evening approached as they arrived at the shores of Calonia. Before them stood an abandoned fishing village and several partially sunk ships, each half peeking out above the ice. Also left standing was a partial castle along the sea, black and broken. The men were saddened at the sight, stopping for a moment to pay homage to the many soldiers who lost their lives protecting the retreat of the other boats five years earlier. Herrog’s army burned and wrecked most of the village but a few stone structures still stood, defying both time and the reign of Herrog. The rest of the army steered clear of the wreckage, considering it more like a graveyard than a ship yard.