El-Vador's Travels

by J. R. Karlsson

  Murina eased down to the pillow once more. 'You have to go, my son. You have to go now.'

  He stared at her a final time. 'Mother...'

  'Go.' she whispered to him, her voice fading. He rose then, knowing that this was her wish. He needed to depart and quell this Orcish threat once and for all.

  Cusband was already armed. El-Vador joined his father where the crowd had started to gather thickest, expecting the worst. Other Elven warriors came spilling from their homes carrying bows and steel with faces that were grim. As one, they began asking the scout for information on their numbers and position.

  'I will tell you all I can,' he said, 'though not with any gladness in my heart.' He was a strip of a lad in the prime of his youth. He must have run a long way, in spite of this he was not breathing unduly hard.

  'Their numbers are vast,' he said. 'Orcish champions, and archers from the Goblin marshes, a whole swarm of them, I tell you. This is no raid or incursion. They've come to stay, unless we drive them forth.'

  A series of conversations flowed through the crowd, until finally Cusband raised his voice. 'We will not drive out these Orcish swine alone, not if they have come with an army. We will need to gather forces from several villages.' He looked around at his comrades. 'Can anyone spare themselves to venture out and raise an army of their own?'

  'With Orcs loose in the Elven lands, we can,' declared a set of twins in unison. 'We are both fleet of foot and sound of sinew, you shall have an army.'

  'Let the folk there know we've been invaded, if they've not already heard. Tell them to spread the word to other settlements beyond them. When we strike the foe, we must strike with all our strength.'

  The twins nodded gravely and immediately set off down the road toward the next settlement.

  'A wise decision.' said another one of the Elves. 'And since they have gone in that direction, I will go out to the north-west. I have family from those parts. I will have no trouble finding kinsfolk to guest with when I get there and even less raising a fighting force. We shall meet again, and blood our swords on Orcish throats together as one.'

  With that for a farewell he bounded away, his feet flying at a pace that would eat up the miles.

  The rest of the Elves stayed in the street. A dark purpose had gripped them and would not relinquish its hold until the invaders were expelled from their land.

  Cusband set a large hand on El-Vador's shoulder. 'We must build barricades, you and I. We will be very busy throughout the night.'

  'Yes, Father.' El-Vador nodded, not knowing what else to say.

  When they walked to the mill, they found El-Vador's mother standing there. El-Vador exclaimed in surprise, she seldom left her bed these days. Cusband might as well have been nailed to the doorway, the way he stood when confronted with her. El-Vador started toward Murina to help her back to the bedchamber. She held up a bony hand. 'Wait,' she said. 'Tell me more of the Orcs. Are there many of them this time?'

  'They have come in greater numbers than ever before.' said Cusband.

  Murina's mouth narrowed, as did her eyes. 'You will fight them.' It was not a question, she might as well have been stating that the earth beneath their feet was cold.

  'We will all fight them. Everyone from the surrounding settlements, all who hear the news and can come against them with a weapon to hand.' said Cusband. El-Vador nodded, but his father paid him no heed.

  'Please Mother, go back and rest,' he said. 'The battle ahead is one that is beyond you.'

  He guided Murina to the bedchamber and helped to ease her down into the bed.

  'Thank you, my son,' she whispered. 'I am pleased that I laid eyes on you once more, you're a blessed child, if unruly. I hope that I have prepared you well enough and that you do not hold your father's actions against him. They were necessary, though you may not see it now.'

  El-Vador thought nothing of her words at that time, usually such kindness would cause his eyes to water and his heart to break. These feelings were muted by the visions of blood and slaughter filling his head, of clashing swords and cloven flesh and fear that he may not be able to defend all that he held dear from the Orcs. So much so that he failed to note the tone of finality in her voice, that this parting would be the last time he would speak to his mother.

  Gurgash swung an axe, not at an Elven neck but a sodding tree. He paused for a moment, leaning on the weapon and eyeing his blistered palms with a grimace. 'I'm not a damn wood-worker, I came here to kill.' he grumbled, though he was having second thoughts about rushing into battle.

  His cousin Harg was attacking a pine not far away. 'You really expect someone else to do the grunt work?' he asked. 'This is a soldier's life, we don't just kill all the time you know.'

  Gurgash had no answer to that and resumed his task once more, he had spied the Commander coming their way. He didn't even know his name but looking busy when the commanding officer was around was something all Orcs learned fairly quickly regardless of how new they were to the army. He was fortunate in a way that he had Harg to guide him through the initial part of joining the force, who knows how many beatings for mistakes he'd have received otherwise.

  Gurgash started trimming branches. As soon as he got back from this skirmish he was never warring in a forest again. He'd do his draft time out here and it'd be straight back to the darkest caves he could call home. Harg could be the pride of the family all he wanted, Gurgash knew the truth about his vocation now.

  'Faster you swine!' roared the Commander. 'We need a palisade wall up and functional before those dogs launch an attack at nightfall.'

  'Where are they anyway?' asked Harg. 'Aside from that one we shot dead in flight I haven't seen a single Elf.'

  'Maybe they're as sick of the trees as I am.' Gurgash said gloomily.

  The Commander eyed him with disgust. 'They'll be here, wait and see. I'd warn you that they could attack at any time but that's not how they work. They'll be waiting until it gets dark, waiting and watching and gathering as much intelligence on this force as they can. Then they'll strike when they're ready, and when they think we're not.'

  Harg grunted. 'Aye, you'll find no argument here boss.'

  'They're sodding cowards.' complained Gurgash, hacking at the wood in frustration. The forest rang with the sound of axes, apparently he wasn't alone in thinking that. 'Chief Sarvacts brought us up here to fight the Elves. So why don't we fight them, instead of chopping lumber?'

  'Chief Sarvacts is no fool,' said the Commander in warning tone. 'He's many things to many people but he's no fool. The Elves may be cowards but they're damn tricky ones at that. When they finally strike you'll be happy you have a fortified camp,' he gave Gurgash a dangerous look, then growled. 'Last warning, badmouth the Chief again and I'll end you myself.' With that he stalked off to harass some other poor souls.

  Gurgash started splitting the wood harder, it wasn't Elven necks he was thinking about now, something a little greener and a little less like a phantom from the trees had sprung to mind.

  'I wouldn't want to attack a camp like this.' said Harg. 'I just hope it doesn't come to some drawn out stalemate because of it.'

  Gurgash nodded silently, not trusting himself to speak. It wouldn't do to try and live off this sodding land, he just wanted to get here, kill some Elves and go home having done his time.

  A lanky Goblin straightening the stakes of the palisade overheard their conversation and decided he was going to add to it, 'I wouldn't want to attack a camp like this either, but that doesn't mean the damned Elves will leave us alone. The difference between them and us is they're tricky like Harg said, and they'll find a way to outsmart the Chief. It'll be our necks on the line for it too, wait and see.'

  Gurgash nodded his approval at the insubordination. 'They're clever enough to stay hidden from our best scouts, I'll give them that.' he said. 'They're liable to find some stealthy way to take out this fort.'

  'Guess who's going to be in the fort when that happens?' the Goblin replied, pausing in his
work. 'If trusting to that lug head to out-think the Elves that have outsmarted him at every turn isn't a fool's errand I don't know what is.'

  The spear came whistling out of nowhere, embedding itself in the slight Goblin and pinning him against the tree he had been chopping. A startled look passed over his face and the light left his eyes. The commanding officer calmly walked up and freed the spear with a tug, kicking the body away in disgust. After cleaning the blood off the serrated edge, he finally rounded on Gurgash and Harg. 'One more word, you hear me? You're just lucky I don't like Goblins. Move.'

  They rushed off to somewhere the Commander wasn't. Gurgash silently swore mutiny under his breath. 'Can't say anything here.' he muttered.

  'Plenty of time for that when we're all dead.' Harg replied cheerfully.

  As darkness began to fall a deep note blown out of a large horn recalled the Orcish soldiers to the camp. Pots bubbled over cook fires, containing some kind of sludge that they were apparently expected to eat.

  'What is that slime?' asked Gurgash, wincing at the smell.

  'Stew,' snapped a Goblin who was dishing out servings. He didn't seem too pleased about it either, they hadn't had a good meal in weeks and this was even worse than before. The foragers had come up empty and had lost a good number of men to stray arrows from unknown sources.

  The Goblin spooned stew into Gurgash's cup. Holding his breath, he downed the burning mixture in the hopes that it would stay there and not cause his stomach to protest. Had Gurgash got a supper like this at home he would have gutted someone. With the scarcity of food on this campaign, he wasn't going to pass it up. For all its vile flavour this goop was still better than starving to death. Not that it was going to take long for death to come anyway.

  Cusband looked fearsome when arrayed in the armour of his people. A long-handled axe with a bronze curved blade and a towering shield. There was no bow for this soldier, nor would there be any skulking in the shadows when the time to fight came.

  El-Vador was growing impatient at not being handed a weapon. 'When will I be getting equipped?' he asked. 'We are travelling together, are we not?'

  'No,' growled Cusband. But the one word that would usually have silenced his son had no effect here.

  'I am travelling with someone else then?' El-Vador asked, beginning to see where this was headed. 'I can fight father, you know that I can! You said we needed everyone we can to hold the line against these Orcs!'

  'No,' said Cusband once more, deeper and more menacingly than before. Again, El-Vador shook his head, realising now for certain that he wasn't being allowed to accompany his father against the invading Orcs.

  Reluctantly, Cusband spoke further. 'You are not yet fully matured, you would not fare well against an Orc.'

  'I have fared well against you before!' El-Vador replied, failing to see how dangerous the territory his words strayed into was. 'I'd make the Orcs pay for all they have done to us.'

  What he said did have an element of truth whether Cusband knew it or not. But he felt that no untried boy would last long against a foul Orc with a practised and bloody blade.

  'You're too young. You'll stay here and take care of your mother.'

  El-Vador wasn't listening. 'I won't!' he said shrilly, 'as soon as you leave, I'll run off and join one of the other settlements to fight.'

  The fist came out of nowhere, his head spun and the world rang painfully in his ears as he tried to stand once more.

  His father stood over him, breathing heavily more out of anger than effort. 'You will do no such thing,' he said menacingly.

  El-Vador sprang up and grabbed for his father's axe. It was a mistake.

  Cusband's larger hand swept forward and slapped him back down onto the earth.

  'You would have me show you why you are not fit for battle?' roared Cusband. 'Defend yourself then, I will fight as they do and we shall see if you can match me.'

  He had been hit often by his father, he was used to his violent ways. Never had he been given such a beating as he was receiving now, it was nothing like their previous sparring. He tried in vain to defend himself for as long as he could but his father kept railing on him until he had no more fight left.

  'Life is hard.' Cusband said bleakly, grinding his teeth and trying to compose himself, he didn't look pleased with what he had done. 'You are not enough to withstand everything that is to come.'

  El-Vador lay in the dirt, his feverish desire to go forth to battle completely extinguished. His father was right.

  He stayed there for some time, blood weeping from a dozen cuts as his father strode off into battle. Nobody said a word as they passed him by, not a single neighbour offered to help him up for fear of provoking his father's future wrath. Feebly he stirred and dragged himself back into his home and his bed, away from both the war and his father's judgement.

  II

  All youth is foolish, we are but the seeds that are sown from our forebears, lacking cognitive functions that we become either loathed or loved for later in life. As you can see I was no different than any other boy my age, headstrong and foolish and always assuming that I knew best. The older I became, the less I realised I truly knew about anything.

  Gurgash looked out toward the woods beyond the fort they had built the previous evening. A dirt track led further north but the Orcish army had not yet taken it. Instead, Chief Sarvacts seemed content to linger here and invite the Elven forces to attack if they would.

  Whatever Gurgash hoped to see escaped his eyes, he fervently wished he could slink out of the fort and back into the caves he called home. He had seen enough trees to last him a lifetime.

  Harg also looked out toward the woods. He realized all too well that even though there had been no further sightings of Elven forces they may well be lying there in wait for them.

  'It's just like I thought.' He grunted to himself more than Gurgash. 'We have a stand-off against an invisible Elven army, they'll just wait until we get impatient.'

  Gurgash cast another worried glance in the direction of the forest, he wasn't so sure. His visions of arrows swarming through the clouds toward them hadn't been dimmed by the lack of activity coming from the woods.

  A strange sound came from out of the forest he had just been thinking of and shattered the pensive silence. Gurgash resisted the temptation to draw his weapon and instead turned to Harg. 'What was that?' he asked.

  'What was what? I didn't hear anything.' replied Harg, clearly amused at how jumpy his cousin was getting.

  'I heard a noise from the woods.' Gurgash replied. 'I've never heard anything like it.'

  Harg shrugged. 'So long as it doesn't attack us we have little to worry over but more waiting.'

  'I don't trust it. What if it's the Elves?' asked Gurgash. Harg waved impatiently, clearly thinking that Gurgash was hearing things.

  That angered Gurgash, who somehow kept his composure. 'I'm telling you, I heard something. I feel like the forest is staring back at me.'

  Harg looked back toward the camp. Sarvacts' pavilion towered over the other officers' shelters, which in turn dwarfed the canvas tents in which ordinary soldiers slept. 'Chief Sarvacts wouldn't be impressed if you had told him you had heard a noise.' said Harg.

  Before answering, Gurgash looked around for anyone of rank, he had grown accustomed to doing so since the Goblin's death while cutting lumber. 'And if that noise is the beginning of an Elven invasion force? What then?' Harg didn't look convinced. Before either of them could say anything more, the same sound came from the woods.

  Gurgash frantically pointed out at the direction the noise had come from. 'You see? Didn't you hear it that time? Can you tell me what that noise is?'

  'I think you're being overly paranoid.' Harg said, his eyes told another story.

  Gurgash didn't miss it. 'I think we should at least tell the Commander.'

  Harg nodded, staring out at the forest with worry creasing his brow. 'Yeah... Maybe we should.'

  Cusband silently ghosted between the t
rees at speed, the call had been made and their first night assault was primed. He was not the only Elven hunter gliding toward the invaders' encampment. The Orcs guarding the palisade seemed unaware the woods around them swarmed with warriors. Good.

  From the base of a large oak, Cusband let out another bird call to let his allies know his location. A returning call greeted him from afar, the final plans had been arranged then.

  Peering out from under the scrub and brush, he noticed that most of the Orcs were not in a state of alert. A handful of the enemy had looked up at the sounds, but it seemed as if they had discounted it as foreign wildlife rather than an approaching attack force.

  It wouldn't be long before the first arrow was unleashed, then Cusband would determine where the Orcs were running to and cut them off should they get too close to the archers in the woods.

  They had dispatched of the scouts and foragers that the Orcs had sent ahead to warn of an encroaching Elven presence. Unless the men on the palisade raised an alarm at the birdsong they would be entirely unprepared for an attack.

  A final call went out through the forest, that was the signal that the hidden archers had been waiting for from their vantage point. Now the arrows would shoot up from the clearings and strike deep into the heart of the Orcish encampment. Then it would be Cusband's time to go to work.

  The arrows burst out of the forest almost soundlessly, arcing their way toward the fort in a steady stream that bypassed the palisade walls entirely.

  Cusband peered out of the trees, something was wrong. There were few cries from the Orcish horde, he had expected the wave of arrows to have caused far more casualties than that.

  Then he saw them, a line of Orcs yielding axes and charging directly toward the growth he had hidden himself in. Somehow they had known the attack had been coming.

  As much as Cusband despised these green-skinned enemies, he still had to respect them as warriors on the field of battle. The scrawny Goblins might have cried out in alarm initially, but they began shooting well before the few cries that were emitted had ceased. The Orcish front line had been prepared and lurking out of sight, now they hurried forward in the hopes of catching the Elven archers and butchering them. A horn sounded from the fort, spurring on their efforts.