by Clark Graham
Marken shook his head, "You are nothing to me; you can lead by example by showing your people how fast you can walk."
Mauric was about to start demanding but Marken just rode off.
The going was much easier on the trails that Marken showed them. The rain didn't hold off and the whole group was drenched in the deluge for final two days of their journey.
When they arrived at Bon Lathan, to the delight of the weary travelers, the Humans had been constantly building new huts. There was room for the whole group in secure dry shelters.
The other Elves brought over warm food and drink for the new arrivals and helped get them settled in.
Mauric was later to boast to the some of the group, "I think that the expedition went very well, due, of course, to my great leadership."
A Short Reprieve
A week- long rainstorm had brought the attacks to a halt. Verian surmised that the torches were of no use during a heavy rainstorm, so the Trolls did not attack. Whatever the reason, it gave the Elves and their allies time. The two ships from the swamplands returned and were loaded and sent to Elvenshore. In a few more days the seven ships were going to be returning. They would bring with them more Dwarves and room for more refugees to escape.
"I hate just sitting here waiting to be attacked: can we venture out and hit the enemy near the mountain?" Sarchise asked Verian on one occasion.
Verian shook his head, "Wait until you know how to fight the beasts, then if you are successful, you can bring the fight to him. I think that you underestimate the monsters, having never fought one."
"You are probably right."
Verian smiled, "I am enjoying the reprieve, having lost every battle to the Trolls that we have fought with them. During the last week we have not lost a battle. I do not think that you will have to wait much longer, the rain clouds are thinning out. You will get your chance to fight soon enough."
A day later the whole camp turned out when seven ships arrived. Verian had the provisions ready for the return journey down on the docks before the Dwarves were unloaded. The rain had stopped during the day and he wanted to get the ships gone before that night's attack.
Sarchise was glad to see that Oswin, one of the commanders of the Dwarves, had been sent with this group of warriors. The old friends greeted each other warmly.
"How was your journey?" Sarchise asked.
"I didn't see much of the sea besides that part under the rail of the ship that I was leaning over," Oswin replied.
"I am glad you are here," Sarchise said with a smile.
"I am glad you are still alive. How has the fighting been?"
Sarchise looked at the ground and admitted, "There has not been any. They came at us one night but the Elves had a ring of fire around the city and the Trolls could not get around it. Other than that, we are just working on the defenses and preparing shelters for ourselves and those coming after us. The Trolls don't come out while it's raining, so we have sat here for a few days."
Oswin smiled, "I am glad you are still alive."
"Thank you."
Sarchise showed the new arrivals to the shelters that they had prepared for them. They were a little damp from all of the rain, but they were comfortable enough for the hearty Dwarf warriors.
Next time Sarchise looked down at the docks all of the provisions had been loaded onto the ships and there was a line of those that were waiting to board the ships. It was a belief among most of the Elves that this would be the last chance for the refugees to leave.
Verian made his way up the hill from the docks after the last ship had left. It was starting to grow dark and he knew it would be just a few hours before the Trolls came again. Verian came up to Darnic. "I saved all but a little over six hundred of the refugees."
"The monsters are not touching the Human villages," Darnic observed.
Verian was confused. He did not understand the significance of Darnic's statement.
Darnic spelled it out, "Why could we not hide the refugees in the abandoned villages of the Humans?"
Verian thought for a minute and then asked, "How would we get them there?"
"Fast wagons. If the wagons set out right after the Trolls started back to the mountain, they could make Bon Jul in two days, traveling day and night. You could ask for volunteers for the first group. My men will monitor their movements and report right away if the Trolls attack the wagons instead of come back to here. If it works, you can send more," Darnic explained.
"As always, your counsel is wise. I will go and ask for volunteers. I will have my men prepare the best wagons and horses for the journey. Thank you, Darnic."
Verian ran over to the refugee camp, and spoke to those there about the plan that Darnic had come up with. After that he had his men prepare teams of horses. He was very optimistic about the possibilities of success, because the Trolls didn't follow the roads of the Humans; they preferred to head straight to the mountain cross country. Verian had a hundred volunteers and enough wagons for all of them. He would have preferred to start out with a smaller group, but so many had volunteered. They believed that they were going to die if they stayed there, so to them any option to that was worth a try.
Sarchise gathered the new arrivals around him and explained the strategy of attacking the Trolls’ feet. All the Dwarves nodded that they understood.
A Minor Victory
The skys were clear and the stars shone brightly that night. The torches of the Trolls appeared in the distance and came nearer. The monsters stopped at the ditch where the fire had been. Detail...expression, sounds? They grabbed large handfuls of mud to put over the ditch to prevent any fire from hurting them. Then they got a bigger surprise when they came upon the deep moat filled with water.
The Dwarves and the Elves were firing arrows at them, again to no effect. The Trolls walked up and down trying to find a way around the moat but there wasn’t one. Finally, after about an hour one of them tried to jump it. He was able to get to the slope of the far bank, but the recent rains had made it slick and he slid down the side and into the water. The water was only waste deep to the Troll, but he was very unhappy about being in there and started to yell loud and long in deep echoing moans. The other Trolls tried to pull him out. One went half way down the bank to try and reach him, but started to slide and had to be rescued himself by two of the Trolls on top of the bank.
At this point the Trolls were getting frantic, with the one in the water clawing at the bank in a desperate attempt to get out. The others were in a panic. When the night was nearly over and they had to get back, they talked to each other in a language that no one else understood. It was deep throated, echoing sad sounds. The other Trolls turned and walked off. The one in the water seemed resigned to his fate. He stood as tall as he could, leaded against the far bank and put his arms up high and just waited there until the morning sun turned him to stone.
There were loud cheers from the crowd of warriors who had witnessed it. It was the first time that one of the monsters had died, and it dispelled the notion that the monsters were invincible.
Oswin turned to Sarchise and said, “That was the most amazing thing I have ever seen. The sheer size of the beasts, the loud sounds that they made, and then watching one turn to stone.”
“I have never seen anything like it either,” Sarchise admitted.He was amazed at what he had just seen.
As soon as the monsters were gone, the ramps were lowered across the moat and fifteen wagons rolled over out. The effort to disperse the remaining refugees had begun. Twenty of Darnic’s men followed the wagons on their horses to be able to report their condition back to Vil Mawe.
Verian told all of the leaders to rest their men, and then in the late afternoon, they would have another council of war. Sarchise and the Dwarves headed off to bed for some much needed sleep. They slept well into the day.
When afternoon came, the leaders once again met. This time Oswin also joined them.
Verian started out the meeting by saying, �
�We cannot expect this night’s attack to go as easy for us as the last two have. After last night’s loss of a Troll, the enemy is bound to change tactics. We cannot anticipate what the new tactic will be. We can only guess it will do with a crossing of the moat. When they are able to get across, then our casualty count is going to go way up.”
“My men will be here to help repel the monsters,” Darnic said. “We have fought them before and managed to wound two of them enough where they did not make it back to the mountain and they died. There were ten of them last night; what we have seen in the past is when one dies, two more take his place. So I would expect there to be eleven of the beasts attacking you tonight. It is their way of discouraging you from killing them. I will say that we never had the size of army you have here. We numbered two hundred at the most, and we were easily brushed aside by the enemy.”
“The stone wall will play a role if they cross the moat,” Sarchise added, “It is just high enough to hide the Dwarves behind; it is not tall enough for the Trolls to bother to knock down as they can easily step over it, but when they do, they will have battleaxes imbedded in their feet.”
“That is a good plan. We can station Dwarves along the entire length of the stone wall, and the Elf warriors behind them. The Humans will be put in the center, so they can react in either direction depending on what area is threatened,” Verian said.
The group went back to their commands and started positioning troops according to the plan that they had come up with during the meeting.
Sarchise could see a different look in the warriors’ faces that he had seen when they first arrived. The look of apprehension was more prevalent, now that they had seen the size of the beasts. It was time to lighten the mood of the troops. He had them gather around and he announced, “The first Dwarf to cut a toe off of one of the Trolls will get to spend a night with King Cazz in the Golden City when we get back to Elvenshore.”
A cheer went up from the Dwarf warriors.
The Elves looked over; they could not even imagine what the Dwarves would be suddenly excited about in the face battle. It would only add to the mystique of the Dwarf warrior in the eyes of the Elves.
A Crossing of the Moat
Sarchise stood next to Istuin as they watched the torches of the Trolls approach. The Trolls were later than they normally were and it soon became evident as to why. They had stopped to uproot several large trees and were dragging them along with them. Istuin finally asked, “What are they doing with the trees?”
“Building a bridge,” came Sarchise’s short reply.
There was suddenly a very concerned look onIstuin’s face, he ran down the line of archers trying to find some that had flaming arrows. There were none.
Large rocks started coming across the moat. The Trolls were throwing them at the place they were about to cross. When the Elves and Dwarves had ducked down to avoid the rocks, the monsters put their trees across the moat and rushed across. The clubs started swinging and bodies started sailing through the air. The first Troll to step over the stone wall suddenly had several battleaxe cuts in his foot, close to the toes. The Troll let out a loud scream and pulled his foot back. Then the Troll limped back over the trees that they had placed across the moat.
The other monsters bent over and swung their clubs on the opposite side of the wall, knocking down the Dwarves in the area, before they stepped over the walls. That didn’t stop other Dwarf warriors from rushing up and starting to chop at the enemy's feet and toes.
Booming screams sounded when the Trolls feet got cut up and they jumped back from the attack. The night was nearing its end and soon it was time for all of the Trolls the leave and they headed back to their mountain.
Sarchise sent out his warriors to hack through the Trolls’ makeshift bridge and send it crashing into the water. He then went and to see how many had been hurt. He had over thirty wounded and eleven dead. Roalig was one of the wounded. He had had his legs knocked out from under him by a Troll’s club. It broke one of his legs and badly bruised the other.
When Sarchise went to visit him at the healer's tent he asked, “How are you feeling?”
“Could have been worse, the thing barely clipped me, but there is a lot of power in those beasts, so even a clip caused a lot of injury.”
“How are the healers treating you?”
“I hate to say it but I think that their healers might be better than ours. They have a serum they make out of tree leaves that is supposed to fight infections and a type of tree bark that helps it heal,” Roalig replied.
“Take care my friend, we will try and get you evacuated back to Elvenshore.”
Roalig smiled as Sarchise left.
The Dwarves were getting some well-deserved rest so Sarchise went and joined them. They had wounded several of the Trolls and despite their losses, they were feeling good about their efforts. He didn't know if any of the creatures failed to make it to the mountain before the sun rose, but he was hoping they didn't.
When Sarchise arose, it was time for the nightly war counsel. He liked having the counsel because they could exchange ideas and come up with new strategies. It was a good way to adapt to the enemy’s tactics. He had already decided to implement the meetings into the Dwarf armies when they made their way back to Elvenshore.
Verian was the first to speak, "It looks like we have lost one of our Dwarf commanders. How is Roalig?"
Sarchise answered, "He has a broken leg, but your healers are doing a good job with him."
"Are you going to replace him with someone else?" Verian asked.
"Azram, his Under Commander, will take over for him."
"Very well," Verian said. "The things that went well were the attack on the feet by the Dwarves, none of the Trolls made it very far past the wall without being in a lot of pain. I think it is best to continue with that strategy."
Verian continued, "What didn't go well is that the beasts used trees to get over the moat. I had not expected that. The rock throwing was also very devastating for our men and caused a lot of casualties."
"I have an answer for the trees being used as bridges. We can have the Elf archers in the middle change to only flaming arrows. If their bridge was on fire, this would present a very big problem for the monsters," Istuin volunteered.
"That is a very good idea," Verain replied. "Does anyone have a solution to stop or counter the rock throwing?"
Verian looked around the room, but there simply wasn't an answer for that except for the obvious of getting behind something big and unmovable when the rocks started to be thrown.
"Very, we will hide and cover the best we can," Verian said.
"There were eleven monsters that attacked us tonight, so they are doing the same tactic of replacing any dead ones with two more. My men and I will fight along with you tonight. My people didn't want us to because they thought that the monsters would attack our villages if we did, but I cannot sit here and watch the beasts kill all of the refugees." Darnic had a determined look on his face as he spoke. "There is no more retreating that can be done from here."
"Your help will be much appreciated. I think I speak for all of us when I say that," Verian gave him a slight bow as he said it. The others in the room nodded their approval.
After the meeting broke up, the commanders went to their different commands and positioned their troops in expectations of that night’s attack. Each warrior was left to his own thoughts and fears as the night approached. They knew that the battle was soon to begin.
Death and a Dream
The Trolls came at them in the night dragging trees behind them as they had the night before. Then they started throwing rocks again over the moat. Those on the other side got to cover the best they could, but there were still casualties. Then the monsters threw the trees over the moat and rushed across. Hails of flaming arrows were sent into the bridge of trees.
This time the Trolls didn't step over the wall but bent over it swinging their clubs at the Dwarves waiting on the other
side. When Sarchise saw what was happening he ordered the Dwarves over the wall. He and his warriors crossed over and started attacking the feet of the beasts.
The Trolls stepped over the wall to avoid the onslaught. Darnic and his men charged the monsters that had come over to their side. A Troll swung at the men, but most of them managed to duck under the clubs. Then they charged his feet. Right as Darnic stood up, he didn't notice that another Troll had come over the wall and was swinging his club. The blow hit Darnic in the chest and he flew back about fifteen feet and hit the ground hard.
Sarchise and his warriors had crossed back over the wall and were going after the Trolls, when he saw Darnic go down. Sarchise rushed over to him. Darnic was still alive, but was having trouble breathing. Sarchise cut Darnic's Tunic open to see if he could help him. Darnic's chest was crushed; there was no external bleeding but his whole chest was already a massive black bruise. Darnic's rib cage had been pushed in and he started coughing up blood. "The feet," Darnic said, "Go after the feet."
Suddenly Sarchise's mind remembered an Inn at the crossroads and how he had dreamed this exact moment in time. He looked around and saw dead Elves and Dwarves lying side by side, their blood intermingling on the field of battle.
Aron came up and cried, "Father." It was too late for Darnic; he died a few moments later in his son's arms.
Sarchise got up, and with renewed vigor, rallied his Dwarves to attack again. The Trolls had retreated back over the wall and were trying to get back across the burning trees. All of the beasts made their way across but the last one. When he tried, the burning trees gave way and he and the bridge went plunging down into the moat.
The Troll didn't panic. He just went over to where the Troll that had turned to stone was and climbed up the back of the dead one. Two other Trolls were waiting for him and when he climbed up upon the outstretched arms of the stone one, it was easy for the other two to pull the stranded one up. They hurried off after they pulled him up the bank.
