* * *
"An earthquake spell is extremely powerful. It takes absolute concen-tration and extraordinary power. And this one was cast by an orc!" said Master Pilk in disbelief.
"Can you cast an earthquake spell, Master Pilk?" asked Vik.
"Hmm, not last time I tried at least. That was quite a disaster. I'm sure glad I had my shielding in place, or that tree would have squashed me flat. But I have had somewhat a surge in power recently, since my encounter with the large orc shaman, that is. Assuming this is the same shaman that cast the earthquake spell on the dwarves, I have tasted some of his power and it is indeed immense. I think my hasty counter spell actually fed my own power somehow. I haven't yet worked out how that transpired," rambled Master Pilk
"How do you focus so much on spell casting, when you can scarcely focus enough to answer simple questions?" asked Vik.
"Interesting question, young man. What you need to understand is that focus in one area, draws it from another; a wizard's greatest weakness if you like. I have seen wizards so focused on casting a spell, that an amateur swordsmen was able to stamp up behind him and stab him several times with his sword. The wizard evidently neglected to enact the correct shielding for the situation. Taking note of one's surroundings before attempting to cast a complicated spell is a very wise thing to do."
"Is that why people who specialise in magic are no good with a sword then?"
"Simply put, yes. The focus and training it takes to cast spells leaves little room for other forms of training."
"So are you saying that it is impossible to be a good sword fighter and a good wizard?"
"Long ago warrior-mages were quite common. They were adept at both magic and hand to hand combat. Most of them were not the greatest of either skill, but a handful of them were able to become true masters of both class. I'm not aware of any warrior-mages in existence nowadays, but it is still possible."
"Then I wish to stop learning magic now. I'm a sword fighter, like my father. I can only hope to be as good as him. I'm built as a fighter, not a wizard," replied Vik sombrely.
"You have a magical gift, Vik, I urge you not to waste that. You may not become the greatest wizard of all time, but imagine being able to practice even a little magic in the midst of a sword fight. It would give you an advantage over any fighter on Ka'ton."
"If it takes even a little of my focus in a sword fight, it could make me dead very quickly. My father taught me never to get distracted while in a sword fight. Be mindful of your surroundings, sure, but never lose your focus."
"Wise, indeed, your father was and I agree with those words of his. But he was also unaware of your potential gift. Consider this — if your drop in focus allows you to set off a magic missile in the face of your opponent, whose focus do you think would end up more lost? I could teach you the magic missile spell in less than a month I believe, and at the end of three months, you'd find yourself casting the spell with ease. Give me six months, Vik, then you can decide."
Vik looked thoughtful for a time until finally he answered, "All right. Six months. If I feel it lessening my sword fighting progress, I'll stop at once."
"Good, very good. For now, though, it's bed time for us all. It could well be a very interesting day tomorrow."
* * *
Jerzy awoke with a start. When he opened his eyes all he could see was the rugged ground bouncing around below him. He was being carried, and by the smell of it, an orc was the carrier. Jerzy would have preferred death, rather than putting up with the smell of orc, and being carted around like a rag doll. He had fully expected death as a matter of fact, but it now seemed as though he was being taken prisoner. Orcs never took prisoners. Jerzy decided it'd probably be better to pretend that he was still unconscious and so he closed his eyes again and tried to ignore the horrible smell.
Some hours later Jerzy braved a look and realised they were walking through Bilwarks Grove. He had heard that's where the orcs had first appeared, but he was surprised some time later to see the large wooden gate open up before them to a fort surrounded by thick log walls, and in some places, shaped stone. A number of giant turrets had been fabricated on each side of the gate, and more were being constructed at regular intervals around the walls. These orcs were preparing for a long stay.
At different points along the long bumpy journey, he had noticed that he was not the only dwarf being carried. Some less injured dwarves were actually being herded along by a group of well-armed orcs and some very large ogres. He caught sight of the occasional makeshift cart being pulled along by some ferocious beasts he'd never seen before. Injured dwarves filled these carts. It seems he was unlucky enough to be one carried over an orc's shoulder.
His head was still throbbing from whatever it was that had hit him, and he was sure that he was sporting a huge lump on the back of his head. Feigning unconsciousness was unlikely to go undetected from this time forward as he was roughly thrown into a wooden prison with a number of his fellow dwarves. Once the door was closed behind him and a block of timber dropped in place barring the door, Jerzy sat up and looked around at the other dwarves in the scant light filtering into the room. The same confused expression was worn on all their faces. The room was very large and full of cracks in between the log walls, which allowed the failing light of the evening into the room. Jerzy guessed that there were about one hundred and fifty dwarves squashed into this one room.
Besides his headache, Jerzy appeared to be without major injury, which was more than he could say for some of his comrades. He figured that some wouldn't make it through the night. As he continued to look around, he caught sight of a dwarf sitting up, but leaning heavily against the wall. Last he saw of that dwarf was him catching the rope he had thrown up to him. The fighting had begun soon after that, and Jerzy had assumed that all dwarves not in the crevice at that time were surely doomed. Nuri caught sight of Jerzy looking in his direction and gave him a weak smile. Jerzy got to his feet rather shakily and made his way over to Nuri.
"Didn't expect to see you again," said Jerzy as he got close to Nuri.
"Didn't expect I'd be seein' anyone again," replied Nuri.
"Takes more than a large smelly orc usin' his head as a steppin' stone to silence Nuri here," said a dwarf beside Nuri.
Jerzy quickly recognised the dwarf as Burr, a burly dwarf that loved his ale more than most and was always full of exaggerated stories.
"Surprised the orc didn't hurt his feet troddin' on that hard head of 'is," continued Burr. The three dwarves shared a chuckle, but it didn't last long as they looked around the cramped room. They knew their troubles were just beginning.
Chapter 11
Defence Preparations
Master Pilk awoke early the next morning, before the sun had made an appearance. He was worried that he wasn't going to have a good night sleep, but he employed some meditation tactics he had learnt and before he knew it he was fast asleep. His sister had not come home at all last night; her bed had not been touched. He assumed that she had stayed at the barracks where the injured dwarves were. Vik, Trent and Jaz were all still sleeping soundly.
Master Pilk was aware that Arthea could be attacked any day now and knew that it was important for him to be at full strength. The city would need his spells to have a chance, not to mention he was somewhat curious to use some spells he had been working on and observe their power. He could feel the increase of magical energy flowing through his body and that got him quite excited. He dare not attempt a spell like the earthquake spell, not only because it could go disastrously wrong, but he knew that a spell like that would leave him instantly drained. No, he would need to use his spells sparingly as the battle progressed. He had a large number of spells memorised, but he also carried with him a small spell book, a number of scrolls, some special potions and a few wands all neatly arranged in his custom-made belt.
Ready for battle and with a light breakfast in his stomach, Master Pilk left some instructions for the young ones and set off to the
keep to find the duke, knowing that he would also be up early this morning. The sky was clear and the morning warm, it would no doubt be another fine summer's day. Too nice a day for the bloodshed that could be upon them. Master Pilk found the duke some time later, eating his breakfast in his own small personal dining room. Duke Angus didn't look too surprised to see the wizard this early in the morning, and waited for the man to take a seat at the table before speaking.
"Good morning, Master Pilk," started the duke. "However it is not likely to be a good afternoon." He frowned.
"The army marches?" asked Pilk.
"It does. Seems we are not the only early risers this morning. A mes-senger pigeon arrived here a short time ago from our scouts. The army from Fort Lowmount is on its way here, and more orcs are coming from the Ki'hara Mountains. We are likely to be surrounded by orcs by mid-afternoon. General Kehar is preparing the army now. He will no doubt wish to speak to you regarding your plans and that of your fellow wizards."
"Plans? Oh yes, yes of course. We will assist the battle as we see fit as we always do. Any word on the large orcs? Do they march for Arthea also?"
"No word. Decker went back out to keep an eye on their movements once he had seen the dwarves safely behind Arthean walls. He plans on being back here by midday."
"Cutting it a little fine isn't he?" asked Pilk.
"He would have it no other way. By all accounts, we have him to thank that any dwarves made it here at all; the large orcs seemed set to ambush them. Let's hope that is their only involvement."
"Decker was there when the dwarves were attacked?" asked Pilk
"Yes he was. I'm sure he'll tell you all about it some time, but for now, we have a battle to prepare for."
* * *
Decker watched the orc fort until mid-morning. His suspicions about the orcs taking prisoners had now been confirmed. In fact, early this morning he observed the orcs healing some of the wounded dwarves. The prisoners had since been taken through the magical gate, obviously taking them to the orcs' homeland. There was nothing Decker could do for those dwarves now; it was time to return to the city. It was obvious that these orcs, marked with a black skull, were not preparing for any battle this day. Half had gone on through the magical gate taking the dwarves with them, while the other half continued to build improvements to the fort.
He quickly and quietly made his way back to where he had left his horse and set off back to Arthea, taking a route he knew that ran parallel to the road leading to Fort Lowmount. Halfway back to the city, he saw the orcs marching along that road; there were so many of them. Further in the distance, between the road and the mountains in the south, he saw a large dust cloud. More orcs, it seemed, were streaming out of the Ki'hara Mountains. Were they about to lose their beloved city? At the very least, they would suffer huge loss and massive structural damage, but Decker had serious doubts that they could hold back this fearsome orcish army. With that in mind, and not wanting to be left on the wrong side of the walls, Decker dug his heels into his mount and sped off back to the city of his birth.
* * *
"Close and bar the gate," commanded General Kehar to the soldiers standing near the western gate. The last of their scouts had just ridden through that gate and were riding toward the general. He knew that Decker hadn't yet returned, but the ranger would enter the city by the northern gate. "Report, Vitus," said the general as the scout's horse pulled up in front of him.
"Around six thousand orcs have come out of the mountains and are heading in the direction of the road. They also had some ogres among their ranks. I caught sight of the army from Fort Lowmount on the way back. It looks as though they might have nearly emptied the fort entirely. They are bringing everything they can at us, general."
"Yeah, our scout from the fort returned only moments ago and had a similar report. He said they left perhaps three hundred orcs behind in the fort, but the rest are marching slowly, but surely. Go and find Captain Hillsworth and see if he has a position for you." Vitus nodded, turned his horse and galloped away.
They were as ready as they could be for the coming battle. Arthea wasn't as easy to defend as was Fort Lowmount. The city was large and surrounded by walls that could be approached from the outside. They had about two thousand soldiers defending the city and an additional two hundred and fifty dwarves, but they would be spread thin covering the length of the city walls. Large traps had been dug at random around the city, and obstacles placed in strategic locations so as to try and group an attacking force together, but by all reports they would be facing a force of close to fifteen thousand orcs and however many ogres that had decided to join them.
General Kehar had no doubt that they could beat that force if they were in Fort Lowmount, but here in the city it would be a hard fought battle indeed. He had the majority of his force along the western front, knowing that's where the orcs were approaching, and had two companies each along the other walls. The eastern wall was the most unlikely to be attacked, but he had to ensure that they had an escape route if things went badly. General Ludko had insisted that his dwarven army be positioned on top of the western wall. He said that he was aware that it was a different band of orcs that had killed so many of his kin, but orcs are orcs and he'll make these ones pay the price. Few would argue with the dwarf general, and of those who tried, none would prevail and so Kehar had given into the dwarf's wishes easily. He almost pitied any orc coming near to those dwarves... Almost!
* * *
Decker noticed that the orcs on the road had stopped, and so he decided to give his horse a rest and keep an eye on them. It quickly became apparent that they were waiting for the reinforcements from the mountains before they continued on, and so Decker stuck around to observe the meeting.
He was confident he could keep well ahead of any in that army if the need arose. He was some distance away from the road among a small copse of evergreen trees. He left his horse to graze the little patch of grass on the other side of those trees while he took a closer look at the army. He had his longbow with him and his short sword and dagger sheathed in his belt. He was almost close enough to the leaders of the army to take a shot with his bow and was somewhat tempted to do so. He knew how cowardly orcs could be and how they seldom, if ever, banded together in large armies like this, so if he could take out some of the leaders, perhaps the army would disband before ever reaching Arthea.
A noise from behind him swiftly took that thought away from him. His horse had whinnied in pain and after a thud had gone deathly quiet. He had tarried too long it seemed, and was now likely without a mount. He was a bit confused because orcs never had scouts shadowing their movements; it was why it was so easy to scout on them. His confusion soon left him as he saw what approached.
He had observed these beasts from a distance and they looked fierce enough even then, but when two of them were only a matter of metres away from you, they were very intimidating. The orcs riders must have followed him all the way from their fort, and yet he hadn't noticed them. Alternatively, they were keeping an eye on the orcish army as well, and this was the perfect vantage point for that. He didn't have time to think too much on that as he quickly turned, took aim and let loose an arrow into the first beast's open mouth. The creature went to ground quickly, throwing its rider over its head as it plummeted to the ground. No one could reload a bow quicker than Decker and so it was that he was able to get a second shot off at the other beast. The rider had obviously anticipated this though and steered the creature away. The arrow still struck but into the side of the animal, and although it didn't go down, it still threw its rider.
Decker didn't have time to reload as the first thrown rider was upon him and so he dropped his bow and pulled out his sword and dagger. His short sword looked short indeed compared to the large broad blade of these orcs. Their blades were slightly curved with jagged ends, designed mainly for a slashing motion, but could obviously be used for a devious jab as well. Decker's blades were both forged by the Goldfist dwarve
s who were amongst the best weapon smiths he knew and so he had full confidence in those weapons now as he moved quickly to parry the slashing weapon. The force behind that weapon, though, almost made Decker drop his sword and sent vibrations up the length of his arm.
Decker's movements were quick and precise and he was able to sink his dagger deep into the orc's arm. Surprisingly, the orc didn't let go of his weapon, but swung a punch with his free hand connecting solidly on the side of Decker's face. The impact sent him flying backwards through the air and to the ground, but Decker's agility had him rolling with the momentum and back to his feet in the blink of an eye.
The orc looked somewhat surprised by this, but still began to charge him without hesitation. One good thing about that punch was that it took him further away from the other orc who was now getting to his feet and arming himself. The mount with the arrow in its side was calming down and looking to take revenge for the pain it had been inflicted. Decker realised that he had to kill this orc he was facing quickly if he wanted any chance. The beast that had swallowed the arrow lay completely still now and for that Decker was extremely thankful.
The orc slashed wildly at him again, but was high enough for him to duck underneath it. He was too unbalanced to strike out with any of his weapons and so Decker kicked out with his foot, connecting solidly into the side of the orc's knee, dislocating the joint and sending the orc to the ground in excruciating pain. Decker wasted no time in driving his blade through the orc's neck and preparing himself for the charge of the second orc and his mount. Interestingly the orc hadn't used his time to remount the creature. Decker assumed that this could possibly be because these animals were hard to calm down once they had been hurt. This could prove to be valuable information if he survived long enough to tell someone about it.
The Gate - A New Breed of Orc (The Gate Series Book 1) Page 23
