by Ryan Peter
At last, the Dernium contingent had arrived at the ruin of Oilaba, tired and weary. Gray morning was breaking over the desert horizon, the sand colour slowly reshaping into a bright white and yellow. Having withdrawn water from the healthy wells at the ruin after spending the night, they were getting ready to move on.
A scout scrambled down a dune, running straight for Cadell's tent, asking to see him immediately. Cadell came out and — to his horror – was told Desert Goblins had been seen very close by and they appeared to be in marching form, marching in their direction. Immediately, Cadell called for Gerald.
“I am grieved,” he said as he was getting ready. “I had hoped we would escape them, and enter Foré peacefully. I did not expect them this close to the border.”
“How much distance do we have from them?” asked Gerald.
“Far enough. We shall have to flee, I suspect. The scout says there seems to be about five hundred of them. Five hundred!”
Gerald considered that a moment. “That’s a rather large number for Desert Goblins.”
“Indeed,” agreed Cadell. “We are merely half a day's journey from the Foré border, and these goblins will surely not pursue us for as long as that. We know they have reservations about the cooler climate, for one, and the green land; and they are afraid of the Foré armies.”
“So are we,” said Gerald. “If they discover us, Walise will not be pleased, and we will certainly be hindered by them as we journey north to the Twins.”
“We don't want to battle against Foré. That would be an act of war. But yes, Gerald, you are right – but our only recourse is to flee now. Let us disassemble camp immediately and whatever we can leave behind, shall be left behind!”
The necessary orders travelled through the camp quickly. It had only been about forty minutes later when a sound echoed through the desert sands — a flat, deep and loud trumpet sound spurting through the dunes like the purr of a sickly cat.
“They come!” shouted Gerald as he instructed his men. “Quick, we must leave what can be left!”
Cadell ran towards his horse and mounted. “We cannot afford to take them!” he shouted to all. “We have a war to fight at Iza!” Pointing his sword in the direction of the border he shouted, “Come, men, we must fly like the wind towards Foré!”
Another goblin war trumpet echoed through the air. This time, much closer.
Those who had horses mounted them, while the others were going to have to run on foot. The pursuit began — the thump, thump of the goblins marching echoed loudly behind them. It was joined by a cackle, chirr and clanging as the goblins beat their armour, cussing and gnarling amongst themselves. They blew their trumpet again.
The heat was ignored in the few hours of relentless chasing that continued. But the goblins were closing in. Eventually arrows were beginning to pierce their ranks. Cadell knew they were still about two hours from the Foré border, and tried to console his weary men to push much harder.
But the goblin horde continued to gain on them and, sure enough, they could see them directly behind, their spears and arrows first seen trailing up a dune, followed by deformed and angry faces in their full brown armour. Once the goblins spotted them, their trumpet spurted, joined by threatening shouting and snarling. A group in front of their ranks leaned down and shot another company of arrows towards the Dernium army, and they closed in ever more determinedly.
Gerald swept over to Cadell.
“We are a few hours from the border!” yelled Cadell as he saw Gerald approach. “We must make it! Make haste!”
“If they come across the border, it is over!” Gerald said, the gnarls of the goblins ever louder behind them. “How will we stop them then?”
Cadell looked around distressed and had no answer. “We cannot fight them!” he said. “I am convinced we could win against them, but it would be a victory at some cost and we cannot afford to lose any more men. That is our dilemma! Send the archers amongst us to trail at the back and return fire. But they must not give up the race!”
Orders went out immediately and the archers moved towards the back of the army and, either while running on their horses or on foot, returned fire towards the goblins. The goblins wailed as some of their kind fell, but they simply stamped over the bodies and beared more strongly towards the Dernium army.
It was now the middle of the day and the sun burnt and scorched down on both armies. Horses had already dehydrated, and the men began to feel their weariness overcome them. Slowly, but surely, the goblins closed in even more.
Another sickly clamour of the goblin war trumpet sounded and they began to shout all the more loudly, realising that they would truly overtake their prey. They were a very short distance away and Cadell could finally see – in the far distance - sloping and darker hills of some kind. The Foré border. But it was a good hour away and there were still many dunes to cross before they would have any hope of reaching it.
As they clamoured to the top of a dune they saw it declined steadily down into a small but deep gulley. On the other side of the gulley another dune climbed up steeply. Cadell stopped in the front of his army who were still coming up and gave off a cry. They would be sitting ducks – attempting to climb the dune on the other side of the gulley while the goblins could merely shoot at them from the vantage point of the first dune. He could not see the beginning or end of the dune on the north and south sides. To flee in any direction would make them easy prey for the goblins.
He turned around, seeing the enemy snarling up behind them.
“Fire at will!” he shouted, commanding that the entire army get on the top edge of the dune and fire at the goblins from a wide angle. He thought the size of the army spread out in a line might scare the goblins, and they (Dernium) could form a shield while moving northwards. This was swiftly done – the army lined up on the edge of the dune and turned around, firing deadly arrows towards the goblins who cussed while slowing their advance.
“North!” shouted Cadell.
As they continued to fire they moved northward across the top of the dune. Cadell came to Gerald to discuss the next strategy. “We need to exchange our position with theirs,” he said while pointing to the gulley. “We must somehow lead the goblins into the gulley, and ensure we stay up here. If we form two straight ranks such as we have now, they can come at only one which we use as a diversion. We must allow them to break through our ranks, or think they have broken through, so that they hurtle down the dune.”
“Excellent,” replied Gerald. “We shall do it!”
So the goblins came, more cautiously since the Dernium army had formed a straight rank. Using their shields, each man fended off the goblin arrows very effectively, but there were some casualties. The goblins then noticed that the army was moving northwards, and it seemed that they decided to advance to the front of the Dernium army to stop them from being able to escape. They came at a much skewer angle, which allowed the army to be more ready for their attack.
At the right time during the goblin approach Cadell changed direction – commanding the men to quickly move south, in an effort to confuse the goblins and have the tip of their advance actually miss the tip of the Dernium army. It worked. As the goblins got to the top of the dune, without knowing about the steep decline on the other side, they simply slid and surfed into the gulley.
The Dernium army split into two companies, the southern forming a half moon shape around the goblins in order to attack them from their rear, while the northern ranks allowed for the goblins to break through their wall and slip down. After some confusion it became apparent that the goblin commanders realised the strategy and ordered their ranks to pull back. But it was too late — the southern ranks had sufficiently surrounded the one wing of the goblins who had not yet fallen into the gulley. The northern ranks, for their part, shot arrows at the goblins in the gulley.
Gerald led the southern wing. The goblins on the dune were still quite large in number compared to the amount of goblins in the gulley. Th
ey pushed Gerald back sufficiently, driving a larger gap between the two Dernium companies. Like the goblins, Dernium was also now sufficiently split and still quite outnumbered. The northern wing found much victory from their strategy, but the southern wing’s outcome was unsure.
Gerald commanded his ranks to flee back south-west in an effort to surround the goblin army again – this time from the front - and meet back with the northern company. He himself remained at the end of his group as they fled the direction he proposed, but this placed him in a dangerous position. Suddenly his horse cried and he saw a sharp arrow lodged in it. Without warning he was flung to the ground.
Everything seemed to slow down for a moment. Three goblins advanced on him, spears ready to stab, but they hesitated. Some of his men turned around to attack them and rescue him.
“Flee!” shouted Gerald. “Let us waste no more men!”
Confused, they nodded and obeyed, leaving only Gerald and a few of his men behind. In horror, Gerald saw each of them find their end as goblins drove their spears or scimitars into them, at the command of an officer who was quite relaxed with the proceedings. The officer, taller than the others, came to Gerald with wide eyes of contempt. It took off its helmet and spat something thick and green into the sand.
“Important one,” it snarled in a broken common tongue. “Perhaps this one be useful.” Then it laughed. Torturing and a meal was certainly on the agenda. The others around it began to laugh and smile in his direction.
Suddenly he heard a trumpet sound of a different kind – cleaner, louder and more piercing - and saw an arrow drove into one of his captors. As he was looking around trying to figure out what was going on, he encountered the flat edge of a goblin scimitar smashing against the front of his head.
He gasped. There was cussing and confused shouting somewhere in the distance. A hazy and senseless darkness rapidly followed.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
