by Clark Graham
As darkness fell, it was not long before he heard the heavy footsteps of the enemy. He was correct as they were heading right for them. He could start to see the shapes as they crested the hill and started moving towards the town. The look of terror on the faces of his warriors made Armurous fear that the men would break and run, something that the Elves had never done before.
“Aim for their eyes,” he yelled down from the tower in which he stood. It would give the men something to think about other than their fear. The arrows let fly, but mostly bounced off the monsters. Those arrows that did stick were more like splinters to the Trolls; annoying, but nothing else. When the Trolls were near enough, they started hammering on the walls with their massive clubs. The shockwaves on the walls knocked several of the Elf archers off. Others were crushed and fell from the Trolls clubs that they swung over the wall. Soon everyone on the north wall, the wall that the Trolls were attacking, was moving off. The arrow fire slackened as the archers looked for safer places to hide.
Armurous could see that the wall was starting to crack from the pounding. “Brace the wall,” he yelled and several of the men quickly propped up posts against it to steady it.
One of the Trolls had moved around to the east wall where the watchtower was, and with a massive swing of his club, hit the tower so hard it crumbled into pieces. The two guards and Armurous fell to the ground along with crush of wood timbers and rocks. A timber from the roof of the tower fell across both of Armurous’ legs, instantly crushing them. It was starting to look hopeless for the wounded Armurous. Most of his archers from the north wall were casualties or had retreated to safer positions. The wall was starting to crack and would soon fall down, but just as he was thinking that, the battle was over. The Trolls had run out of time and turned to walk back to the mountain.
Bellios came up to Armurous, “Commander, how are you?”
“Tell me we killed them all, I can’t see from down here,” Armurous replied.
“They looked very healthy when they left,” Bellios responded.
Armurous grimaced in pain as two soldiers lifted the heavy timber off of his legs. “I will have to pass command off to you, Bellios. I am no longer fit.”
Bellios nodded, “I understand.” Then he stood up and shouted orders, “Get wagons and put the wounded and the dead into them to take to the Capital. Shore up the wall with timbers, then go and collect the arrows on the outside of the walls, we will need those again tonight.”
Wagons were brought up. The healers put Armurous’ legs in splints then lifted him up into a wagon. He hated to leave this way, but he was no use to them in his current condition. It was noon before the wagons were loaded and heading out.
Bellios looked at the cracked wall. Even with the timbers bracing it up he knew that the wall would not hold many more nights if it was hit as hard as it had been that night. He almost envied Armurous; he would still be alive on the morrow. Bellios was not so certain about himself.
Riders were sent out to find out the direction that the monsters had gone, to get more information about Vil Falcress and to report the results of the battle to the Capital. It was getting dusk when a rider came back from Vil Falcress. “Sir,” he reported, “Chancellor Lanor has been found dead along the road just past Vil Falcress, along with his son Soric. The Village has been burnt to the ground and the men of the village were slaughtered. A Human army was found at Bon Garle and they report that the Elf women and children have made it safely to the swamplands where the Humans there are setting up shelters for them.”
“At least there is some good news about the villagers, among all the bad news we have had in recent days. I don’t know what the Chancellor was doing on the road but he managed to get himself killed just when we needed him most. His son was sent to find out about the villagers to save him from last night’s battle. Instead of doing him a favor, Armurous sent him to his death,” Bellios lamented. “With some of the villagers being safe, at least our race will go on after all this is said and done.”
Return to Elvenshore
Elvenshore
Captain Hedris was staring into the morning mist.
He knew that he should be seeing South Fort soon. He made a minor course correction. The mist was melting away by the morning sun and soon he was looking at the ramparts of the fortress city. He sent one of his sailors down to get Gilead.
When Gilead arrived on deck, South Fort was still barely visible in the distance. He looked at Captain Hedris and said, “Fannor is sleeping; we will not disturb him because he needs his rest to heal.”
Hedris handed him the spyglass and Gilead looked out towards South Fort, “The banners of the governor still fly on top of the towers of the fort. The land has not been overthrown,” Gilead was relieved.
“We do not know who controls the rest of the land, but the Humans still hold the fort,” Hedris replied.
“We will upset them at our approach. Have the rest of the ships drop anchor in the bay and only this ship make for the dock. It will have been a long time since the land has seen a ship this size. All that I see around me is the small ships of their fishing fleet.” Gilead said.
The signals were given and the other ships dropped anchor, while Hedris’ ship slowly sailed up to the dock.
Commander Ives and Captain Ermort stood in the tower at South Fort that overlooked the harbor. The fort had been watching the ships ever since they had sailed out of the morning mist. A guard had alerted the fort and even now alarm bells were ringing in the background. The solders of the fort were scrambling to their posts.
Ives had a spyglass and was reporting on the movements, “Seven ships in all, six have weighed anchor and one is approaching the dock. They are Elf ships, but I have no idea if they are being sailed by the Elves.”
“Why would they come in force? If they just wanted to make contact I think that they would have sent one, maybe two ships,” Ermort asked.
“I don’t know. Go down there with your men, we will bar the gate behind you. If they are hostile, you will be on your own until we can reinforce you.”
“I understand, Sir,” Ermort saluted as he left down the staircase.
Ives turned to the guard. “Report to Governor Welch that there are seven ships of Elfish design now in the harbor. One of them is approaching the dock.”
“Yes, Sir,” the guard replied and he headed down the stairs also.
Captain Hedris guided his ship up next to the dock and two sailors jumped out to tie up the lines. Soon they were met by fifty armed Humans running down the dock with swords drawn. Upon seeing this, the sailors then jumped back onto the ship. The Human soldiers lined up on the dock, facing the ship when Ermort came out of the middle of them. “You cannot dock here without permission of the Governor of South Fort. State who you are, the reason for you visit and how many of you there are.”
Gilead came to the rail of the ship, “We are Elves from the Far Shore. We come in peace and there are three hundred and fifty of us, not including the sailors. However you will find that we are not much of a threat, because the ships only hold women and children and a few wounded warriors.”
“In this land and in these days, we do consider women a threat. What is your purpose here?” Ermort asked again.
Gilead was very confused about Ermort statement on the women, but he knew that Ermort was the one asking the questions and not him. “We have stirred up an ancient evil on the Far Shore and now seek sanctuary for we are refugees of a war. If we could talk to your Governor we can explain everything. Meanwhile, I ask your permission to land our people. They have been on these ships for many days.”
“I cannot give you permission to land, only the Governor can. I will take you to him, but all of the others must remain in their ships,” was Ermort’s terse reply. Gilead gracefully accepted and Captain Hedris and he went to see Governor Welch.
The Governor maintained a large house on the edge of town. Ermort escorted the two Elves to the Governor, who sat them down and off
ered them some wine. Both of the Elves were surprised at how wonderful the wine tasted.
“What are you doing on our shores?” the Governor asked at length.
“We are amidst of a war with large monsters we call Trolls. We are not winning this war and have women and children that need shelter until we can turn the tide of the attacks on our towns and cities. If you would give us a place to stay we would be most thankful,” Gilead said.
The Governor looked at Ermort, “Do the Royal Scouts have tents that we can use to house the Elves until they can be returned to their homes?”
“Yes, Sir, "He replied and then he asked Gilead, “How long will you be needing them?”
“It will be a long time, which brings me to my next question. We are in need of warriors. We have room on the ships that will be returning in the morning to bring more people here. Can you spare a few hundred soldiers?”
The Governor’s face turned red at that one, “I don’t know what your situation is. I will have you meet with all the other rulers of the land and see what they have to say before I can commit to that. I cannot answer that request yet.”
Gilead smiled pleasantly. He had known that request would not go well, but he was told to ask, so he did. “The other leaders, will you summon them?”
It was the Governor’s turn to smile, “I already have, as soon as I saw your ships.”
Ermort spoke up, “You said that the ships are going back for more of you? How many more are coming over the Stormy Sea?”
Gilead’s smile was gone, “All of the survivors of my race.”
A City of Tents
The Royal Scouts set up all of their tents on the north side of the city. When the ships started offloading their passengers there was a long line of Elves going up the hill towards the tents. The Royal Scouts helped them with the baggage that they had brought along with them. Never in the history of the Land of Elvenshore had the day seen so many disheartened Elves. A lot of those that fled had already lost brothers, husbands and fathers, and the other had loved ones left behind and did not know of their fate, but they feared the worst.
Gilead was there at the top of the hill assigning living quarters to those that were arriving. His crushed arm was still in a sling. He waited until all of the refugees were off the ships before he had Fannor brought up the hill on a stretcher.
Fannor moaned and groaned because of the pain as he was carried. The movements made his injuries hurt all that much more. He was set in a tent. They had prepared a cot for him and Fannor was soon asleep.
Gilead was surprised to see Governor Welch standing behind him when he turned around. "I fought side by side with that man in the first Gremlin war. Fannor is brave; it grieves me to see him so badly injured," the governor said.
"He is strong, others would have died of those injuries," replied Gilead. "You mentioned a first Gremlin war, was there a second or a third?"
"There was a second, fought mostly by the Dwarves. They discovered the enemy in the Westwood before the enemy could gather in overwhelming strength. It was lucky they did or we would not be here now."
Gilead was surprised, "The Dwarves came out of their mountains and were roaming the Westwood?"
The Governor smiled, "Yes, and they were able to retake the Mountains of Iron. You will meet their prince in a few days. He is a friend of mine. Things have changed in Elvenshore since you have been gone." The Governor did not elaborate further. He wanted some surprises for the Elves.
That night, the women from South Fort made a feast for the Elves. The brought out all sorts of breads, meats cheeses and stews. They even brought out some fine wines. The Elves had not tasted wine this good since they had left the land. There was music to calm the mood and the Elves felt a warm welcome back to Elvenshore.
The ships did not stay, but they set sail as soon as they were unloaded.
Commander Ives came up to Gilead. "I have been sent to find out some things."
When Gilead looked at him he saw some familiar features in his face. "You are part Elf."
"Yes, from a long time back; it has its benefits and its drawbacks."
Gilead was confused, "Drawbacks?"
Ives smiled and said, "Yes, I find myself being irritable and arrogant on occasion."
Even Gilead laughed at that. "What is the land of Elvenshore like these days?"
Ives smiled again. "But it is I who should be asking the questions. How many ships will be bringing the survivors to Elvenshore, and how many more tents will we be needing?"
Gilead thought for a minute, "There are five more ships that should be making landfall in two to three days. You have enough tents to cover that group also, but in the end you will need about three times the number of tents that you have here."
Ives made a mental note of that. "When the situation on the Far Shore stabilizes, will you being going back?"
"Yes, that is our home now. That is where we belong."
Ives had one more question, "If we were to send warriors, how many would you need?"
Gilead sighed. His memory flashed back to the Trolls’ first attack and how easily they had destroyed the once proud Calvary. "Thousands," he said flatly.
Ives saw the sudden sad look in Gilead's eyes and decided to leave him alone in his thoughts. He found Ertmort sitting by one of the fires talking to some of the Elf women and children. When he sat down with the group, Ermort turned to him and said, “They claim Trolls were attacking them. They have no way of stopping them.”
“Trolls! I thought they were just in scary tales,” Ives said.
“They seem to be real. The Trolls are destroying the cities and killing anyone that stands in their way. The elite Calvary was destroyed in one night, other villages were attacked and they didn’t spare the women and children.” Ermort reported.
“They want warriors, a lot of warriors to help them, but they might all be dead by the time we arrive, even if the leaders of Elvenshore let us help.”
“They will help,” Ermort assured Ives."They will not abandon the Elves.
“We do not have room for all those that are on the way. We need more tents,” Ives said.
“There is an entire Elf city that lies empty. Can we not move some of them there?” Ermort asked.
“That is for the leaders to decide. We have enough tents for now. We either need more tents or to move the Elves back to Santera,” Ives replied.
The two sat there and made small talk with those around the fire for the next few hours.
A Capital in Chaos
The Far Shore
When Armurous arrived at the Capital he assumed that he would continue on to the seaport of Vil Mawe to be evacuated, because of his injuries, but a rider had talked to the teamster and had the Commander diverted to the Capital. The teamster stopped the wagon in front of the gates.
There to greet Armurous was Mauric, the counselor to Chancellor Lanor. He was a thin Elf, with brown hair. He had dark eyes but wall tall and charming, “Greetings Armurous, how are the legs?”
“Broken and painful,” Armurous knew he was being gruff, but he didn’t want some politician making small talk after a long, agonizing wagon ride.
“I am afraid to tell you this, but since the Chancellor is missing, that means you are the ruler of the land until a new election can be held or the Chancellor returns.” Mauric was smiling pleasantly as he said it.
"I am in no condition to rule the army; I am certainly not in a condition to rule a nation.” Armurous was annoyed by Mauric in general.
“If you relinquish the duty, the next in line will have to take over as Chancellor.” Mauric’s smile seemed to broaden as he spoke.
“Who’s the next in line?” Armurous asked.
“Well, I am, of course,” Mauric said.
Armurous thought about all the stupid decisions that Mauric would have made over the years if Chancellor Lanor had not stopped him. The only reason he had the post was that he was Lanor’s good friend. Suddenly, the pain came secondary to th
e welfare of the nation. “In that case, I will accept the Chancellorship, and my first act is to dismiss you as an advisor.”
Mauric was crushed. “But I have been the counselor for years,” he protested.
Armurous ignored him. “Take me to the palace,” he told the teamster.
“Open the gates,” the teamster yelled, and after they swung open he drove the wagon towards the palace. Mauric followed along the side of the wagon, not knowing what else to do.
To Armurous’ horror, the women and children still roamed the streets of the capital. “Why have the people not been evacuated to the coast to get on the ships?” he screamed.
“I didn’t know that it was needful; you drove the monsters back at Morgus Tier,” Mauric replied.
“I have a new job for you, you are to get all these women and children to the coast and evacuate them to Elvenshore.” Then turning to the driver, Armurous said, “What is your name?”
“Kolis, Sir.”
“Kolis, you are now my counselor. I want you gather all of the leaders that are left in the city to the Chancellor’s chambers.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Mauric stomped off. He had never been so dejected in his life. He debated about just walking away, but then he realized that the fate of hundreds was now in his hands and the only way to prove his capabilities to the new Chancellor was to do his duty to perfection. He gathered up a hundred of the reserves soldiers that were assigned to the capital and had them go from house to house finding all of the women and children. Once the women and children had gathered a few days' provisions, he had them meet just outside the gates. Then he sent the troops back out to find all the wagons that were available. It was dark by the time the wagons left for Vil Mawe and the coast. The group was escorted by the reserve troops.
