by RG Long
Indeed, there were some goblins that ran to them with a fierceness.
Ealrin’s brow furrowed.
The night was about to burn red as well.
***
THE CAVE EMPTIED QUICKLY as a few defended those fleeing.
Granted the dwarves weren't much for stealth compared to the men and especially the silence of the elves, but since the goblins were mostly so far off at this point it didn't matter much.
They hugged the base of the mountain, ensuring to keep as many trees in-between them as possible as they made their way north.
If King Thoran was to march this way, the least they could do was to meet him en route.
And still the sky burned orange.
"What in the world is that, Holve?" Ealrin asked as they marched as quickly as they dared through the forest.
Holve was still slow but also stubborn. The few hundred kept a decent pace, as they made their way north to Liaf. Holve wouldn't slow for anyone. Though he grunted and grimaced, he marched.
"We'll know once we see the sky," he said through gritted teeth. Ealrin could tell the journey had worn down the soldier. "For the time being, march."
And so they marched.
It must have been two hours, maybe three before they came to the clearing. A wide circle of trees opened before them. For some reason, no tall pine or oak grew in this ring, only grass.
It would have been time for Ealrin to wonder what would cause such a thing to occur.
If it were not for the burning orange comet in the sky.
"Not so dark anymore is it?" said Gorplin as the dwarves came out of the forest last. Their short legs weren't meant for quickness.
"You know about the Dark Comet?" asked Ealrin, only afterwards realizing how foolish a question it had been. Anyone with a view of the sky in the last two years would have seen the fireball in the night sky.
But none, until now, had seen it so close.
"Yes," replied Gorplin, ignoring the silliness of Ealrin's question. "Though we dwarves don't pay much attention to the skies. I'd rather be lost in a mine than the stars."
"A fault of your race at times, I think," replied Lote as she gazed up at the sky.
Ealrin thought that might have been a bit harsh on the dwarf. Gorplin agreed, as he gripped his hammer a little tighter and huffed loudly.
Holve placed a hand on Gorplin's shoulder. Perhaps it was to calm the dwarf down. Perhaps also it was to steady himself. His breathing was still heavy from the last hour's march.
"We've been watching the dark one as it approached Gilia," continued Lote, not noticing Gorplin's anger at her statement. "It brings an omen with it. Though what exactly it is, I cannot say. The stars do not tell the future as definitively as the runes set in the stones of dwarves. They more show the path a river could take unimpeded. A possible course. One of many possibilities."
All stood gazing up at the fiery comet. It was, indeed, closer than Ealrin had seen since he could remember. Of course that was only a short time. But never had it burned this brightly in the night sky. That he knew from Holve and Roland's stories. It had always been a deep purple, thus disappearing in the night sky and earning its name.
There was a moment of silence from those gathering in the clearing.
In the distance the shouts of goblins rang out over the night noises: the chirping of crickets, the call of night birds, and the babble of a nearby stream.
Ealrin voiced what he imagined others were thinking.
"What possibilities have your people seen in the sky, Lote?"
She broke her gaze with the comet and looked to Ealrin. Her eyes were misty and, could it be, a tear?
She opened her mouth to speak, but before she had time to answer, they heard the peal of a trumpet.
A herald of Thoran.
36: King Thoran
The maroon and gold banners of the army of the king were a welcomed sight to Ealrin. It had been nearly four weeks since he had last seen them march from the capital. Though they looked as if they had been recently in battle, their numbers were still sufficient enough to take the Merc army from the pass on even ground.
Spears stood tall and pierced the night sky. Swords clanged against shields on the backs of eight thousand. Boots marched along the road that split the beach from the forest and mountains. Two thousand horses carried two thousand spears and their holders. In the middle of it all was the king himself. His personal banner to his left, an eagle clutching a sword and wearing a crown, and the banner of Thoran to his right.
Here was hope.
Men, elves and dwarves cheered as the company began to march through their ranks. Mostly at the sight of Holve and Teresa: the general of Thoran and the daughter of the king.
Perhaps there was hope in them as well.
Yet something was odd to Ealrin.
It was nighttime, yet the army marched as if it were the middle of the day. Could the light of the comet spur them into action? Or was it something else?
They approached the king, who at seeing them, raised his hand to stop the march. Trumpets sounded out again from all around and the army halted.
"My king," Holve said, as he bowed. Those around him, including the dwarves of Kaz-Ulum did likewise. "We are grateful to see you as we have much to say."
Ealrin looked up at the king.
Though he could tell there was relief to see Holve, Teresa, and the others, there was a furrow on his brow and pain in his voice.
"My general, my daughter. It is good to see you safe. But where is the army that marched from River Head?"
Holve stood up and looked around him. As he did, there came the pounding of goblins drums from further south.
"We've much to say, my king. But I fear it must be as we prepare for battle."
***
AS IT TURNED OUT, HOLVE was right. From their vantage point outside of the forest, it was evident that at least fifty goblin ships floated out at sea.
And from them rowed countless smaller boats, bringing the remainder of the gray horde to shore.
The scouts who were surveying the landing of the boats counted six to eight thousand goblins. This was to be a battle that would be hard fought and sorely won.
If it was to be won at all.
While the preparations were being made, Gorplin, Lote, Teresa, Ealrin, and Holve met with King Thoran to discuss the current standing of the Swords as well as their new found knowledge of Androlion.
Of those swords who had marched from River Head, only Tory, Teresa, Holve, Lote, and a male elf named Minare remained. Frerin, Khali, and Narvi had perished in the battle with the Mercs. Frerin and Narvi at the hands of Cory. The two other elves, Enlon and Elel, were unaccounted for, as was Brute, the largest and strongest of the human Swords. Some said he was defending the entrance to the cave that collapsed as the survivors escaped from the Mercs through the tunnel. Ealrin knew better, but didn't see a need to correct their stories.
Let them remember Brute as a strong defender, he thought.
King Thoran’s countenance was sullen. His most elite warriors had fallen to the hands of betrayal and war. Ealrin could tell that this was why the king had not trained other knights and warriors in his domain.
The man hated war as much as Ealrin did.
“As for those lost in battle, we remember their sacrifice and will hereby make it count for something worthwhile. All of them,” the king thrust his own spear into the sky as he looked at those who stood in a circle around him. His shout was loud and fierce. “A Sword of the King!”
“A Sword of the King!” came the salute from those who remained.
“And as for Cory. We will not let such betrayal go unpunished. He will find justice, whether by my hand or by that of my allies.” At this the king looked down to Gorplin and put his hand on the dwarf’s shoulder.
“I would hope you will find Thoran to be your ally, brave dwarf of Kaz-Ulum. I owe the lives of those who stand before me to you and your people. You are a skilled and a
ble leader. I am sorry to hear of the attack on your mountain, but I hope that our meeting has been determined by fate and that we can become great allies, Gorplin of Kaz-Ulum.”
Gorplin’s chest swelled with pride at being addressed so. A grim smile pushed at his beard and mustache as he looked up at the king and raised his hammer in salute.
“Bah! You’ll find the dwarves of Kaz-Ulum to be strong allies my Lord! Our allegiance is set!”
The king looked up as the sound of goblin drums began to resonate stronger southwest of them. The horde was approaching.
“See to your people, Gorplin," the king said. "I’ve assembled the dwarves of Thoran by the forest on the road. My men can handle charging on the beach. I’ll not make you suffer by running in the sand for my sake.”
“Bah. A strong ally indeed!” said Gorplin, as he hefted his hammer to his shoulder and jogged off to join his companions and the other dwarves in the coming battle.
The king then turned to Teresa and smiled at her. Ealrin saw in his eyes a great sense of relief.
"My daughter," he said as he held his arms out to embrace her.
On the field of battle, Teresa was one of the most intimidating warriors Ealrin had ever seen; in the arms of her father she was the picture of a king’s princess.
He held her for several moments and took her shoulders in his hands. He looked at her with great affection and love.
Ealrin wondered if he had a father like that.
"You have never been one for dresses and frilly things, Teresa. I wonder, if your mother were still alive, if you would have preferred a quieter life than the one you have chosen. And yet I could never be more proud of who you are. You are one fine soldier for your king and your father. You have served me well. I would tell you not to fight in the front ranks, but I know it wouldn't do any good."
At this the king chuckled and held her face with one hand.
"Be brave my daughter. Lead your people bravely. Attend to the warriors on the beach. Show them that the house of Thoran is a courageous one."
He embraced her once more and then placed his forehead on hers.
"Be safe and return to me when the battle is won."
With that, Teresa saluted her father and King, and made her way to the beach. Ealrin saw that the king’s face showed pride and hurt. How it must pain him to send his daughter into battle. And yet, as Ealrin had plainly seen, Teresa was one of his finest warriors.
The king turned his attention back to Ealrin and Holve.
"I had hoped we would meet under better circumstances, but fate would not have it."
He considered them both for a moment.
With a sigh, he said, "Holve, stay at my side in this. I fear what may come after the goblins as well as for your health. You don't look well, my friend. The journey you've taken has been difficult for you, though you try to hide it, I can tell."
Holve grimaced, but bowed.
"Yes, My King," he said as he stood straight again, he hefted his spear to his side. It really was such a fine piece of work and only after having seen thousands of spears being carried by other warriors of Thoran did Ealrin really see that it was special.
He grasped his own odd, but plain sword.
"And what would you have of me?" Ealrin asked.
The king's face turned into a weary smile as he looked at Ealrin with his compassionate eyes.
"My general is at my side and yet my daughter goes to the front lines. I wonder if you would serve the king by serving his princess."
Ealrin bowed and said, "I will, King Thoran."
He began to walk off towards the beach, the same direction Teresa had gone only moments ago, but then stopped.
On an impulse, he took the few steps back to Holve and hugged him.
It certainly caught Holve off guard, but then Ealrin felt himself wrapped in the arms of his constant companion since his shipwreck. It felt good.
He let go of Holve and stepped back to look into those same eyes that had watched over him when he was unconscious. The eyes that had guided him to this point. He felt like whenever he was in the sight of Holve, all was well.
Holve spoke.
"Ealrin Belouve, you've come a long way in a year. For all I know, I still couldn't say where you come from."
And he knew Holve was right.
Looking down Ealrin thought about his journey. Out of all their many travels over Ruyn thus far, Ealrin hadn't recognized a soul, nor had anyone else thought they had seen him before. But then he looked back into Holve’s eyes. Something was wrong.
Was that a tear?
Holve took a deep breath through his nose and continued on.
"To hell with who you were, Ealrin. I've been most impressed with who you are becoming!"
Holve slapped his shoulder and shoved him away.
“Now get out there before the goblins get to the front!”
And with that, Ealrin ran towards the beach to join Teresa and fight for the kingdom of Thoran.
For a country he thought he might soon call home.
37: War
Ealrin stood on the front line with the rest of the warriors of Thoran. On his right was Teresa. Once again, her face was that of a stout warrior. While she was in the arms of her father, Ealrin had thought that the warrior side of her had vanished completely. Out here on the field of battle, however, Ealrin was sure he had imagined her softer side altogether.
Her blades were drawn and held tightly in her hands. She paced back-and-forth slightly, always keeping an eye on the growing tide of goblins on the horizon.
"You ever fought goblins before?" asked Cedric, one of the human survivors and scouts for the previous battle. He looked younger than Ealrin, and under the certain circumstances of their upcoming fight, a little nervous.
"Once," Ealrin replied, looking over at the young scout. "It was several months ago out at sea. The key is to aim low."
Cedric chuckled a little, the tension in his face easing.
"I'll try to keep that in mind," he said.
Cedric looked back to the horizon and his eyebrows furrowed.
"They're coming," he said.
Ealrin looked and saw that a flood of gray was spilling over the horizon.
"Why do you suppose there's war?" Cedric asked as he unsheathed his sword and readied his shield.
Ealrin's answer was already on his lips.
"As long as there is unchecked evil and hatred, and those who are willing to oppose it have courage, there will be war." He paused for a moment as he took his own sword out of its sheath. He looked back to Cedric.
"A friend told me that."
***
TERESA STOPPED HER pacing, grimaced at the approaching goblin horde, and then turned to the army of Thoran.
"Warriors of Thoran!"
She raised both her blades high.
“Do not fight these monsters because you relish the chance to swing your sword! Do not fight them because you detest their race! These that charge us have threatened our home! They come to kill and destroy our families, our people!”
“Warriors of Thoran, let us show those that would force evil onto a nation that strives for peace and the good of all what will come to it! Your king fights with you! Defend your homes! Protect your king!”
She turned and pointed her blade at the approaching horde. Thousands of goblins now sprinted toward the line of Thoran warriors. Ealrin could see elves standing in the forest, bows strung and ready. Dwarves stood on the road, preparing for a charge of their own.
War had come to Thoran.
“For Thoran! For the king!”
“For Thoran!” came the thunderous reply as four thousand men surged forward, spears out, swords drawn, fire in their hearts.
***
EALRIN RAN AS HARD as he could on the sandy beach. His hands already ached from gripping his sword and borrowed maroon shield.
It was the third time in two weeks his sword would draw blood.
Above him a hail of elvish a
rrows flew. They rained down on the goblins' ranks and peppered the first hundred.
It was no matter.
Thousands more raced over their fallen comrades.
The two lines smashed into one another. Goblins leapt high in the air, throttling some Thoran warriors with their spears. Teresa carved a path through the gray beasts and Ealrin did his best to keep up, to be her defender.
She hardly needed it.
Through the chaos, Ealrin could perceive the dwarves smashing into their section of goblins.
The elves continued the rain of arrows upon the goblins both at close quarters and at those who continued to run forward.
Blood mixed with sand and ocean around Ealrin's feet.
He parried a blow with his sword, then thrust his own into his attacker. He drew it back and swung again at another goblin.
The tide of gray was endless.
All around him warriors of Thoran slew scores of their enemy. And yet more replaced those slain.
Men fell to the ground and were overcome by sheer numbers. Others fought on despite being desperately wounded.
Teresa whirled around in circles, her blades slaying everything they touched.
Four hours the battle raged.
Ealrin knew not whether he trod on sand, earth, or body.
It didn't matter.
There was no time to see the ground, only the enemy.
And yet in all the battling, as the sun began to sink beyond the horizon, the night sky was a bright orange, as the Dark Comet came ever closer to the land of Ruyn.
***
FINALLY THE CRIES OF war died, replaced by the moans of the wounded and a triumphant cry from the warriors of Thoran.
They were victorious.
What was left of the goblins were running back to their boats and making their way back to the ships still out at sea. Perhaps only a few hundred fled. The rest were slain on the beaches and the road.
Other warriors of Thoran were going through the bodies, easing the passing of the hopelessly wounded and identifying those who may still be helped by the healers. The healers were in white robes, running from wounded to wounded in order to try to save a few.
