The Shadow of All Worlds

by Shane Porteous

  Chapter 14

  Deep within the mountains things were stirring. None of them were dragons, for dragons couldn’t hide so close to Ebulon. But these things were dangerous in their own right. These were people and amongst them there was one who sat alone. Using a large rock for a seat a man sat before a makeshift table, his features dark and sharp. Long strands of very dark brown hair framed his face, reaching down just past his shoulders. He had a collection of scars on his face, several on his cheeks with one in particular across his nose. His eyes were large and impressive, they were eyes that saw the world for what it truly was. He was dressed in thick garments, stained by dirt and worn by wear. His coat was the length of his entire body, once a light green that now appeared quite gray, decorated by several dozen basic buttons. His boots and pants were just as dirty as his coat and it was obvious he hadn’t bathed in quite some time. Still there was nothing pathetic about him, even in such a state he was a sight to behold.

  He clenched a pipe between his teeth as he felt around his coat for a box of matches. There was a time when he would never had to search for them, but supplies were running short. Something that he and the rest of the people deep within the mountain had to deal with. Finally finding a box that had seen better days, he lit his pipe and sucked deeply. He had little desire to be smoking, smoking was hard to enjoy on an empty stomach. But it dulled his taste buds and that was something he greatly desired.

  Before him was a simple meal of orc meat. In order to keep himself alive he had been eating it for the last several months. No matter how it was cooked, whether boiled, fried, seasoned or salted it always tasted foul. Orcs always came in a variety of colours, most were green, some were red or yellow, some even blue. But he had never seen an orc that was gray in colour. This only added to the mystery of why orc meat, no matter how it was cooked, always became gray. It was an ugly colour, which didn’t surprise him. He had never seen an orc that he considered handsome or beautiful and he had seen tens of thousands of them. What he wouldn’t give for some ale to wash it down with, the water springs of the mountain were numerous but even the purity of their water didn’t make the orc meat taste any better.

  He smoked his weed quickly, hopping to dull his taste as much as possible. He was sick of eating orc meat, but his only other choice was to starve. But he had survived too much to die now. Removing the pipe from his mouth he took a knife and fork in hand as he looked down at the pathetic dish. Perhaps if he scoffed it down the taste wouldn’t linger in his mouth. He had taken his fork to it and was about to cut himself off a piece when he was interrupted.

  “Match head?” a voice called from the distance. The light of the sun shone differently this deep into the mountain, the way the light bounced off the rocks left everything in an almost orange eerie glow. It was far from ideal lighting, but there was enough of it to keep the shadows at bay. This meant that the man didn’t have to search hard to see where the voice was coming from. He could see a woman with short blonde hair, dressed in garments as dirty and as worn as his. The only other similarity the two shared in terms of garments was the fact that both wore makeshift armbands, created by torn pieces of potato sacks. “Oh, I am sorry Ged. I didn’t know you were eating.”

  Ged glanced back down at the meal briefly before replying. “No need to apologize, I wouldn’t exactly call this a feast. What is it, Eraloi?” his voice was low and deep, a voice that rarely yelled, because rarely did he have to.

  “Ged we found two refugees moving through the mountain tunnels, they say they were running away from something, but they refused to tell me what. They wanted to speak with you?”

  “Are they soldiers?” Matchhead Ged asked, wondering if he had two new recruits on his hands.

  “I think one of them is, he was carrying a fine sword.” Eraloi said.

  A small smirk appeared on his face as he said, “If that was enough to make you a warrior then simply having a cooked piece of meat in front of me would make me a chef.”

  He took a long breath looking down at his meal, watching as steam rose from it. Whether hot or cold the meal would probably taste just as terrible. “Let’s go see what they have to say for themselves.”

  With that he put his knife and fork down, taking in hand a brutish spiked club. He never went anywhere without a weapon of some kind, friends could become enemies at any moment and so there was never a time in his life where he couldn’t find use for a weapon. Still the club had never felt completely right in his hand, he believed it was because the weapon was never designed to be held by a human. The club had once belonged to an orc, he had personally pried the weapon from its dead hand. As he followed Eraloi down one of the many mountain tunnels he wondered if he had tasted the flesh of that specific orc. He couldn’t remember, his sword had been used so much that one day it broke apart in his hand. The club had been its inferior replacement, but then again it wasn’t like he had much choice. Any weapon was better than none.

  They walked in silence deeper inside the mountain where the tunnel soon gave way to an enormously deep cave. The sounds of sparring and dueling filled the air as men and women trained with brutish weapons. There was hardly a sword, axe, club or spear in this place that had been forged by human hands, but each of these weapons had proven their effectiveness. In simple yet definite signs of respect the men and women bowed their heads slightly as their leader passed before returning to their practice. The only commonality amongst all of them was that each wore a similar piece of potato sack on their upper right arm.

  Matchhead Ged could tell instantly who the two trespassers were, in a cave of thousands of people only two were on their knees, surrounded by well armed individuals. The kneeling pair were both men with at least 15 years between them. The older of the men possessed a short yet impressive beard of black and thick dark hair. The other looked more like a boy, barely 18 years of age, his face carried no shadow of a beard and his hair was long and messy. As Ged and Eraloi approached a warrior extended a sword in its sheave, handle first towards them. Ged rested his club on the ground, leaning it against his leg as he took the weapon. He removed it about a foot from the sheave, admiring its craftsmanship.

  “This is a fine sword indeed,” he said to no one in particular. “Made in the city of Morkuit.” The statement represented his extensive knowledge of weaponry, something that seemed to impress the younger of the two kneeling men.

  “Are you Match Head Ged? Leader of the Sack Swords?” The boy’s tone matched his face, too sweet and innocent for Ged’s liking.

  “That’s him,” the older man said, not bothering to raise his eyes.

  Ged glanced down at the blade once more, it was impressive, but he could tell that it hadn’t been used much, no sword of battle was without dent and this weapon didn’t even have a single blemish.

  “Your tone is surprisingly arrogant for someone on their knees surrounded by people who would have no problem killing you.” Ged said, without a hint of anger. Casually he passed the sword back to the warrior, he guessed it belonged to the older man. “Eraloi informs me that the two of you were running away from something, but would only say what in front of me. Well here you are in front of me, so tell me what were you running away from?” He glanced to the younger one who glanced at the older one, but the arrogant man just kept his gaze lowered.

  “Sir Ged,” the boy said respectfully, bringing a slight smile to Ged’s face, it was rare for anyone to call him sir. “My companion and I were running away from an army, a Red Army that has been attacking refugees.”

  “A Red Army?” Ged asked sharing a glance with Eraloi. The Sack Swords had only been hiding in the mountains for a month and they hadn’t heard of this Red Army. “You mean an elf army? Dressed in red right?”

  “Why would an army of elves attack refugees?” Eraloi asked, haphazardly.

  “You would be surprised the dark pleasures elves have. You don’t become as pompous as they are without having things you want to hide.”
/>
  The younger man looked back and forth between the two as if wanting to make sure it was alright for him to speak.

  “It was no elf army, it was an army like none I have ever seen.”

  “And how many armies have you seen?” Ged asked not finding any of it particularly interesting.

  “Enough to know that the army wasn’t elves, dwarves, orcs or giants.” The older one said these words with an angry conviction, finally looking up into the dark eyes of Ged.

  “Then tell me what were they an army of?” Ged asked, taking the conversation slightly more seriously.

  “They are an army commanded solely by women.” The older one replied.

  To this Ged shook his head slightly. “You are going to have to be more specific than that, an army with only female commanders isn’t exactly unheard of.”

  “You remember the battle of Jous?” Eraloi asked with a smile.

  Ged nodded. “Hard to forget women riding into battle with babies on their backs.”

  “It wasn’t an army that you have faced before,” the older one said with conviction.

  “You seem certain of that,” Ged replied.

  “You don’t understand,” the older man said in frustration. “When they attack they kill all the women, but leave most of the men alive, they recruit them into their army.”

  “If I had to guess sounds like Ebulon soldiers playing tricks, they weren’t satisfied with simply kicking the refugees out of their city, now they want to terrorize and kill them while playing dress up.” There was clear disgust in his voice when he said this, his tone utterly serious.

  “It couldn’t have been Ebulon troops, this Red Army has been attacking Ebulon mines as well,” the younger one pointed out.

  Ged shared a glance with Eraloi. “I am liking them already. Sounds like a cause I would definitely sign up for.”

  “Perhaps another refugee army?” Eraloi stated more seriously. “Not every warrior agreed with our ideals when we formed the Sack Swords, we might have a potential rival on our hands,” she added.

  Ged nodded, “not impossible, such tactics aren’t unheard of, you give someone only two options death or recruitment, most will join your cause.” It was clear Ged was speaking from personal experience.

  “They don’t just recruit the men they…” The younger one began.

  “They take the men away and mate with them…” The older one explained.

  To this Ged raised an eyebrow. “If you’re looking for sympathy I think you better choose your words more carefully. After everything I have been through the last couple of months, the idea of being recruited into an army where the women want to mount you doesn’t sound all that bad to me.”

  “You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew what they gave birth to.” The tone of older’s ones voice as he said this made Ged listen more intensely.

  “What are you talking about?” Ged asked cautiously. He had heard a lot of things but never women who gave birth after a single month.

  “I don’t know what they are,” the older man said. “All I can tell you is that I never want to see those things again.”

  “What things?” One of the guarding warriors asked.

  “Foul things, things that don’t belong in this world, things that should only exist in the most mad of minds.”

  “Go on,” Ged asked without a hint of mischief in his voice.

  “Their ranks are swelling, more of these creatures are being born and I haven’t even told you what happens to the men after a certain amount of time.”

  “Tell me now,” Ged said keeping his eyes squarely upon the man.

  “They become covered in dark fur, their features turn into those of a beast, they become nothing more than mindless killers whose loyalty to the Red Lady is greater than any human loyalty.”

  There was a very long moment of tense silence before Ged spoke. “Who is the Red Lady?”

  “I honestly don’t know,” the older man said truthfully. “I have never seen her myself but they talk about it constantly, that the Red Lady is their master and they would never betray her. It is a force that cannot be reasoned with and it is growing in both strength and number with each day that passes.”

  Ged shared a glance with each of the guarding warriors as well as Eraloi, but no one knew what to say. It was clear that none of them had ever heard of such an army before.

  “Ged,” the older one began, his tone no longer apprehensive. “I know that you took three elf arrows at the battle of Bomoom but still managed to kill the archer.”

  “I haven’t taken that many blows to the head I don’t need anyone telling me about my past. I know I have killed elves, dwarves, orcs, and goblins. I have also killed many men, get to your point.”

  “You and the Sack Swords must do something to stop the Red Army.”

  “Must we?” Ged asked casually.

  The older man grunted in clear anger, he tried to stand but was forced back onto his knees.

  “Damn it man!” he began. “How can you speak of such things so nonchalantly! You’re all refugees yourselves! People are suffering!” His bellowed words were loud enough to echo all throughout the cave system, drawing the attention of almost every Sack Sword.

  “Do not act as if we don’t know suffering!” Ged claimed, a razor sharp edge to his raised voice. “There is hardly a man or woman here who hasn’t lost a father, a son, a daughter, a mother, a brother, a sister, a child to starvation, slaughter or the cold!” The older man noticed that Ged had grasped the club again, raising it to his side. “Each of us abandoned by Ebulon and their mighty king Yadi!” His words were venom filled.

  The older man shook his head, “I am not talking about Ebulon…” The glaze of revelation filled his eyes as the air became very silent. “You’re planning on attacking Ebulon itself?” He paused, waiting, hoping that Ged would correct him, but the former mercenary stayed silent. “That’s suicide.” The older man said, his tone soft like a whisper.

  “And attacking this Red Army wouldn’t be?” Ged asked.

  “Ebulon is the oldest of the human cities, it has never fallen! Every army that has attacked its walls has been defeated, dwarf armies, elf armies, goblin armies, armies of giants, armies of wizards. The Lich Kings and Vampire Lords of old failed to take it when they were considered invincible. Even the Ulnath who crushed the vampiric empire into dust could not take it! Yadi’s might and valor are almost as well known as his father’s, he is one of the most revered and feared kings of living memory second only to his father, Aldiadi, a king so renowned that even the elves speak of him in legend. Because of Yadi, Ebulon survived an attack by the Confederation of Orcs and they must have attacked Ebulon with half a million warriors, you have no more than ten thousand.”

  “I have walked through the streets of Ebulon after the battle had taken place, as most of us have. When Yadi had no problem with refugees clearing his streets of dead orcs, only to force us out into the cold where many starved!” Ged took a sharp breath, only as loud as a whisper yet everyone in the caves heard it. “You come here speaking about an army of monsters, trying to scare us into action! Do not talk to us about monsters! You sound like someone from Ebulon. Their city wasn’t the only kingdom attacked! There is not a man or woman here who hasn’t seen the horrors that monsters are capable of!” He rose a finger and pointed to a young woman, standing with her axe lowered. “Huji was pinned to the ground and forced to watch as they gathered up her family and burnt her house to the ground with them inside!” He pointed to another soldier, this one an older man with a crude spear. “They brought a spear into Tolex’s leg so he couldn’t do anything as they decapitated his sons and used their heads like balls to kick around.” He pointed again to a woman roughly his own age as he said, “Yurion had a new born daughter pulled from her arms and was forced to watch as they ate the baby alive!” He lowered his arm, his eyes widened by rage.

  “Go ahead,” he said softly, “point to a
ny man or woman here and there is not one amongst them that hasn’t seen what monsters are capable of.” He paused, the weight of the moment made both captured men lower slightly. “One by one the human cities were destroyed, those fortunate enough to flee would go to the next city, before it too was wiped off the ground, like a nest of bugs. The cycle continued, no one seemed capable of stopping the orcs. But then they attacked Ebulon and they were finally defeated. Ebulon, the greatest city of man was once again seen as a shining beacon of hope, those who lost their homes finally thought there was going to be a shred of salvation, so we all fled there. Cold and starving there was not one amongst us that didn’t believe Yadi would help us. Instead we were used to clean his city…his still standing city of the monsters he had slain, before being forced into the winter, left to die like vermin. We all heard the excuses that Ebulon couldn’t keep us fed or housed as they forced us out. Their walls may have been damaged, but they still stood high enough to keep out the cold. We know that Yadi lost many a soldier during the battle of Ebulon. They are weaker than they have ever been in Yadi’s lifetime. He may have been able to force us out of his city when most of us were unarmed and unorganized. But as you can see we are now very well armed and I assure you we are well organized.”

  “You seem to be forgetting something,” the older man said, refusing to be silenced by the power of Ged’s words, while the younger listened without a word. “Yadi didn’t win the battle for his city without otherworld help. Don’t you realize that if you attack the city he will just call for help again? If the otherworld warriors were able to fight off the Orc Confederation what hope do you have?”

  “You do not have to tell us about the powers of the otherworld warriors, where do you think we got all of these weapons from?” The man’s eyes narrowed and Ged knew he didn’t have an answer for him. “In the valleys of this mountain we found thousands and thousands of dead orc bodies, most of them had been cut into pieces, no human I know wields weapons like that. There were even some bodies that looked like they had been cooked alive, the cause of such an effect I do not know. What I do know is that it presented the Sack Swords with an opportunity to arm ourselves and keep ourselves from starving to death. The raids on the mines weren’t working for us. It seems Yadi keeps his own people on rations, he became all too aware of our raids and so made sure there wasn’t food for us to steal. He was going to just let us starve and it would have worked if we hadn’t found the orc bodies. I am fully aware that Yadi would call for aid if we were to attack the city. So the only chance we have of victory is the element of surprise. We will take the city by storm, capture Yadi and cut his head off before he has a chance to call for aid. We will give him a quick death, better than starving or freezing, I hope he takes comfort in that.” Ged spat. “If we were to reveal ourselves by helping the refugee camps Yadi would call for aid and have the otherworld warriors hunt us down. I am no fool and neither is anyone else here. We will have one chance and one chance only. I refuse to squander it.” Throughout his words his tone carried a calm anger with it.

  “So that’s it huh?” the younger one said, showing surprising gusto. “The mighty Match Head Ged will hide in the mountains while defenseless men and women are slaughtered!”

  Ged looked down upon the man, witnessing the anger in his eyes. “Weren’t you listening, boy? We have risked too much and waited patiently for our only chance to take the city. Why do you think I formed the Sack Swords in the first place? I saw so many die from the cold, even with as many matchboxes that I handed out, there was never enough warmth to go around, nor was there any food. Even with winter at its end, there will not be enough food for every refugee. But even if there were enough food, what of shelter? Should we be forced to remain living in caves and in the woods like animals?”

  “You have the ability to save refugees from slaughter and yet you will not raise a finger to help them, you’re no better than Yadi!” These words forged a fire in Ged’s soul prompting him to bring his club down upon the boy. An inch from contact he stopped his swing, impressed that the young man didn’t look away. The boy could tell that his words had rattled Ged. Very Slowly Ged pulled away his club.

  “You cannot compare me with him! I don’t have the resources that he has. All I am doing is trying to keep myself and my fellow warriors alive, that’s all.” He took a long breath calming the fires inside slightly. “You spent too much time listening to the whispers about heroes coming to save the innocent. There are no heroes here, just survivors and we will survive to call Ebulon our home.” To this the younger man stayed silent, but rage was clear in his expression.

  “Ged,” the older man began. “I know you were involved in the battle for Jamik.”

  “That’s hardly insightful, every Droakin was there,” Ged replied, the anger slowly seeping out of his tone.

  “But I know that Droak died in your arms,” Ged’s eyes narrowed as the older man told his tale. “When the goblin army had breached the walls and Droak suffered a terrible axe wound. While all the other soldiers, mercenaries and loyalists alike fled you were the only man that didn’t abandon Droak. You stayed by his side and fought like a demon to prevent the goblins from claiming his body.” Ged looked like a man enchanted, his eyes narrowing as if stuck between being awake and being in a dream.

  “How do you know this?” Ged asked.

  “Because I was once a Droakin myself, I was there at Jamik. I saw you do everything you could to keep him alive.” Ged simply stared in silence for a long time, the memory like a ball and chain weighing on his mind.

  “I don’t remember you,” he said finally.

  “At one time Droak had an army of 20,000 mercenaries surely you didn’t know all of their names?”

  “I knew the names of those worth remembering,” Ged replied, though the shackles of memory burdened him.

  “Then surely you remember that Droak was the only mercenary commander in living memory that didn’t allow his troops to pillage and plunder, to take from the defenseless. He would always tell us that no savage would ever serve under his command. He even went out of his way to defend villagers that no one else would. Because he believed battle was one thing, slaughter was another.”

  Ged remembered these words all too well, he had lived by them once.

  “Droak is dead,” Ged replied slowly. “As are the Droakins, he was a great man but ghosts cannot aid us now. Memories will not keep us warm or fed, Ebulon can give us both. I shall stick to my original plan, when the time is right we shall take Ebulon. I am not a relic of the past, but a survivor that shall see the future.” Ged appeared like a fly trapped in a spider’s web, conscious but frozen by the strings of the past.

  Seeing this Eraloi spoke up, “for someone who claims to have been a Droakin that is an awfully clean sword you have there.”

  The older one glanced at her, but his eyes were transfixed upon Ged’s as he said,

  “That sword was forged by a smith who lived in Genra. I settled there after my life as a mercenary came to an end when Droak fell in battle.” His eyes then began to tremble and in place of anger or apprehension his voice was filled with sorrow. “I don’t need to tell you that Genra was the first human city to fall to the orcs. That sword was meant as a gift to my daughter…but before I could give it to her she was skewed on a spear like a pig to be roasted.” Slowly the man began to rise and while a guard placed a firm hand on his shoulder, he wasn’t forced back to his knees. “I have seen the horrors of monsters, the only comfort I once had was knowing that the orcs had been sent away. But that hope became destroyed when the Red Army came. I have lost my family, I have lost my friends. I have been suffering the cold, slaughter and hunger longer than most. I too want to survive it, but I have learned the only way to truly survive suffering is to do all you can to put a stop to it.”

  Ged merely stood staring at the man for a very long time, thinking and rethinking every word he had just been told.

  “I will put a stop to
it, by getting the Sack Swords to a warm city where there is more than just orc flesh to eat.”

  Eraloi knew Ged well and could tell that his mind was in conflict with itself. Much like herself Ged had spent most of his time fighting for coin, not glory but that didn’t mean he was heartless. The older man shook his lowered head, clearly defeated.

  “Then let us join you,” the young man said.

  “After everything we just discussed, you want to join us?” Ged asked.

  “As you said, you give someone only two options death or recruitment, most will join your cause, and only death awaits the two of us outside this mountain.” The older man replied.

  Ged thought on their words, a million thoughts cluttering to be heard inside his mind. “What is your name?” Ged asked the older man.

  “Uraod,” he replied simply.

  “And you?” Ged asked the younger man.

  “Nilt sir.”

  Slowly Ged nodded his head. “Give Uraod back his sword and find something Nilt here can wield without killing himself. Bring arm bands for them….I want to see if either one is worth remembering.”