Out from the cart the goblins built came the king of trolls, though old and withered he moved his slow achy bones with all the haste he could muster. All around him the dead rose and hurried back into the fight, but the ancient troll moved with a different purpose.
To the toppled giant he came, and rounding the immense beast he found the frozen body of the orc chief. Looking around for something to use as leverage, he was unable to locate anything of use. Disappointed by the fact, he strode to the creature’s head and placing his back to it, bent his ancient knees. Lodging his shoulders beneath the knobby spikes upon the creature’s head, he pressed up with all his might, straining his ancient muscles. In one of his knees a loud popping sound was both heard and felt as pain exploded there, but the giant’s head lifted several inches. With trembling legs the troll king held the great weight. Again, Gnak shifted.
Pulling once again with his arms, Gnak heaved his shattered legs out from under the giant, vomiting as he reconnected with the pain. Digging his ruined hands into the ground he pulled, dragging his wretched body behind him. Twisting his torso, he was forced to reach back to a gruesome view. Grasping one of the larger bones protruding from his leg, he dislodged it from the rock it was snagged upon, and again he reached out and dragged himself until he was clear.
Trembling, his legs gave way beneath him, but Gnak could not let the old body fail him. Rising, he grasped up his ruined orc body and flung it over his shoulder. Looking up as Pantak collided with another giant, he summoned away the thing’s will and watched as his captain felled the massive foe, driving his fist deep into the foul eye of the creature.
On and on he hobbled forward, as a great cheer sounded behind him. Turning he watched as one of the giants he had made an ally, lifted one of its smaller desert kin off its feet and brought it back down to smash over his knee with a scream and a crack. Discarding the broken giant, the ally beast moved on. So too did Gnak.
Turning back towards the wagon that was their only solace, he moved forward slowly, favoring his injured knee as yet another cheer arose. Daring not to hesitate further or slow his return, he finally reached the wagon and tossing his orc body inside, the troll climbed in after, straining and gritting his teeth through the pain. Gnak shifted.
Out from the cart the goblin king leapt, pulling his twisted blade from his belt as he landed. Though casualties were high, the battle was winding down. Those giants that had not been destroyed were turning to flee, his own giving chase. The mounted goblins had been all but destroyed, a few thousand still attempting to do as much damage as was possible. Nearest those enemies that remained, Gnak summoned the dead back to life and watched as they rose to meet their attackers. Meet them they did.
Though they were slow, injured, and ill equipped, the dead stood guard and fought savagely those who came at them on mount or foot. Those who fell, Gnak would raise again to continue to fight until there was no fight left. Within an hour the battle was finished, but it was far from over.
Releasing the dead, he watched as thousands crumpled to the ground. Summoning their auras to him, he clung to them, bringing them into himself. But still he was not finished. There were two yet that had to be claimed. Two that now knew his ability and could discover his secret. He questioned whether he could trust the men, but in the goblin’s mind he knew that such things were better left without loose ends.
Turning to their fleeing backs, he watched them as they still gave chase to and fought the giants that fled. They were some distance away, likely a mile or more, but Gnak dared not let them return. Raising his goblin arms towards the orc warriors in giant bodies, he summoned their lives to him and watched as both pursuant giants froze in their tracks. Loose ends…tied.
All about the battlefield men clamored for their shaman and cried out in pain. He could hear their cries, and could hear too their prayers. Many called out to Ishanya as they lay dying. They were beginning to believe.
Turning, he went in search of a healer for his very own bodies, and fortunately Kukta was not difficult to find as the last of the sun’s rays vanished from the sky. All he had to do was follow the white light.
CHAPTER TWELVE
It was two weeks before the army was ready to move again, as the many shamans and Kukta worked around the clock treating those who were injured. A large tent had been erected for the shamans to treat the wounded and they were rarely seen outside the structure. Being the only magical healer, Kukta needed time to recover after each healing and was wearing himself too thin. Often Gnak would enter the tent to visit his injured men, appearing in whichever one of his bodies he currently controlled. He had ordered Kukta to rest on three separate occasions, though the healer barely listened. Knowing their time was growing short, he went to visit them once again as the camp was packed up to march.
His numbers had been diminished by over thirty thousand, but since the battle two more goblin kingdoms had come, and though his army had been a hundred thousand strong before its reduction to seventy thousand, he commanded nearly ninety thousand once more.
Striding into the immense tent filled with the wounded, Gnak peered across the rows of tables where the injured normally lay. This time, however, the room was entirely vacant except for what appeared to be one last patient. Looking across the tent he could see a gathering of both orcs and goblins as white light emanated from an orc with its back turned to him.
Striding across the room, Kukta rose to greet him and Gnak froze in his tracks. Looking first to the false orc, he then turned his attention to the gathering around that last table. There, another orc shaman chanted a prayer as his hands were alight with magic. Smiling to the boy he had saved, Gnak clasped wrists with Kukta and pounded him on the shoulder. The orcs were learning. Hope for the future was abundant.
It was late in the afternoon when the army began to march once more, and a full two days before they reached the point where they turned north into the mountains. From there the going was exceptionally slow as the army climbed ever uphill. Parties were sent ahead to fell trees and build a temporary road of logs up the mountainside, in an effort to speed the ascension, but even so it was a tediously slow process.
Bouncing and trundling over the uneven wooden throughway, Gnak rode the cart on and off for six days and nights in his various bodies, until it finally came to a halt. Stepping out from the goblin mechanism, he saw before him what had before been a difficult hurdle to climb.
Where before had been the crater and a cliff face beyond, now stood a roughly hewn stone staircase that climbed the side of the mountain face. It was several yards wide at the narrowest point and would allow several men to climb abreast one another, but none would be climbing yet. It was time for the troll king to visit his people.
Ordering his captains to keep his army where it stood, Gnak entered the wheeled cart where his alter personas awaited him. Shifting into the ancient leader of the race of trolls, he stepped forth from the cart and approached the stairs.
For long hours he climbed the stone staircase, turning and doubling back at regular intervals as it climbed skyward. Where once had been a near solid mat of vines upon the rock wall, they had been mostly cleared away for construction of the stairs. His people had done well in following his orders.
Night fell around him as he topped the great staircase to see the plateau above, as again he was greeted by an entirely new sight. His joints ached, and he felt sluggish and weak. Looking about, he was impressed. The entire troll camp had been relocated to the plateau, and the statues of past troll kings had been carefully removed to make more space. Winter was coming, and if he wanted the trolls to work at a reasonable pace they needed easy access to the only heat source that could invigorate their bodies within seconds. They needed to be near the crystal. Here is where the construction of his fortress would begin.
Turning to stride between the rows of long stone and timber houses, Gnak took his ancient body directly to the multi-faceted prism without so much as greeting his people. But they unde
rstood. They knew his age and could judge his speed.
Rounding a corner he found himself before the treasured gem, and stepping up to its surface the rainbow hues of light washed across his skin. Laying his hands upon the crystal, Gnak got to witness for the first time in person, a sensation the likes of which he could not believe.
As if he were struck by lightning, power and heat lanced through his achy body, washing away all the centuries of his life in an instant. Though he knew the sensation was only temporary, he indulged his senses longer than needed, clinging to the stone as his core temperature rose. It was the best feeling he could recall. It was like happiness, excitement, fear, and triumph all rolled into one, and he relished it.
Thoroughly warmed, but against his own desires, he released the stone that was a holy artifact among his people. Then turning away from it slowly, he looked out among the many faces who stood watching him. Though they were not all visible with the newly added buildings atop the cliffs’ surface, he knew all of his people were here and that most were near enough to hear his words and recognize his voice.
“I have returned with an army of goblins and orcs. Together we will build a great city for all of us to dwell and prosper. It is designed to suit all of our needs and give us space enough to live life as we wish. We will work hard until it is done, under the guidance of the orc king. Tomorrow we start building. This is my will.”
Gnak loved the simplicity of the trolls. He was the oldest and wisest and therefore he knew what was best for the people. Had they been a traditional orc clan, he would have been put to death years ago when he began showing signs of decline. But here he was honored and obeyed. Here he was a king because of his frailties and weaknesses. The trolls, like the humans, had a better way than the orcs. Soon, all of their ways would be the same.
Knowing that it was common for those of his kind to simply stand without speaking for hours, he still feared leaving the body unattended. Daring not to shift, he turned again to the new steps his people had built and picked his way through the village once again. Feeling more invigorated than he had in over a month, the troll king climbed down the hundreds of stairs back to the army that awaited below.
Seeing and feeling their eyes upon him, he bowed low as he reached their level and turning he strode across the uneven ground. All was still as he had left it. The army was still formed into ranks as if they would march directly into the wall of the cliff. The enslaved giants were still harnessed to his great cart. They stood at the ready, waiting to receive their orders.
Climbing into the immense wagon he stretched his weary bones and sitting, he rubbed his arthritic knees before closing his eyes and abandoning his body.
Blinking his eyes rapidly, Gnak took a deep breath as his heart sped back to a normal pace in his chest. Rising, he climbed out from his concealment within his orc body and looking to his captains he began to speak.
“Mighty Gathos clan. We have done much and come far but I must yet ask more of you. Ishanya wishes us to build a great fortress city with homes for all the goblins, trolls, and orcs. She wants temples devoted to her. She wants walls and war machines to protect us. She bids us hurry. Something is coming that the goddess tries to prepare us for, and I do not wish to fail her. Tomorrow we will start constructing our new home. Our new future. Set camp and rest through the night. Help the goblins to set up their forges, and build many fires. Send out parties to hunt, for we will need food to fuel our progress. Go now, and see it done.”
Waving his captains away, he climbed back into the cart as orders began being shouted behind him. Though they had far to go in constructing the city, he felt a measure of relief just knowing how far they had come already. He would see to it that all the goddess’s wishes were met. He would see to it that all of his people’s needs were met and they lived well.
Turning to face the flap upon the back of the cart, Gnak sat upon the pile of furs on the floor of the wagon as a voice sounded within.
“Gnak?”
“Jen?”
“Who else, silly?” she asked with a giggle from inside his head.
“I’ve done it, Jen. I’ve brought them together and led them to the site of our city.”
“I’m very proud of you, Gnak, and I’m sure that Ishanya is watching and is pleased as well.”
“I hope so.”
“Just keep teaching them. Keep them praying and show them the way.”
“I will, Jen.”
“Good. I hope to come back soon, and if you can keep Ishanya happy, maybe she will let me come back.”
“Gnak would like nothing more,” he replied honestly.
For long hours they talked about things that Gnak had discovered or learned through the memories of the kings he controlled. It was good to hear her voice and know that in some capacity not only was she still alive in a sense, but she was able to enjoy the small grasp she still held on to life.
During the night Gnak made sure all of his bodies made appearances and by morning picks, chisels, hammers, and shovels were distributed as dust and flakes of stone began to be chipped away from the mountainside. Shifting between his bodies day and night, Gnak directed their progress in all matters, using the combined knowledge of all his lives to design the city that would best serve his people.
* * * * *
Months of toil and laborious work and the beginnings of their future home was beginning to take shape all across the face of the mountain. Standing as the troll king on an outcropping of stone, he watched as the progress slowly took shape.
All about the stone slopes and rock faces, the trolls and orcs worked side by side cutting great blocks of stone where thoroughfares and roads would wind up between the buildings. With long saws of twisted wire and buckets of sand, they worked day and night to slowly and painstakingly create that which Gnak could see in his mind. Once cut away, the large slabs of stone were taken up by teams of goblins who placed them upon logs and slowly rolled them out to a central location where teams of goblins and enslaved giants placed the stones in large iron baskets. Once secured, using a series of cables and pulleys the stones were lowered down the mountain face where they were received by yet more similarly created teams.
On and on the little puppet masters caged upon the backs of giants toiled, making their enslaved beasts lift the enormous blocks of stone into position upon the forming wall of the fortress. When placed, the goblins would apply a layer of a substance they called tar to the top of the stones before placing the next level.
All about their future city goblins worked with hammer and chisel to chip away the stone of every surface. They clung to rock walls like insects, teeming about in groups as they sang merry songs. From their labors dust and stone rained down upon the city around them, as they carved the faces of the buildings, creating windows and doors. But the most important work was unseen from the surface. Though it was the goblins that tirelessly carved out the interiors of the buildings, making not only rooms, but chairs and tables and other devices for the people to use as they worked, it was what they did deeper still that was really making a change.
Deep inside the mountain’s core the goblins tunneled like rats. Creating the chimneys and vents required to heat the city to a constant degree was dangerous and laborious work that led to many deaths each day. Poisonous air was discovered in places and cave-ins were common, but still they worked on without complaint. For here in the depths of the mountain’s core was the source of the goblins’ dreams and desires. As they created that which would sustain life in their city, they too found veins of precious metals and stones.
Working nonstop around the clock, the goblin miners gathered raw materials that they delivered at regular intervals to the craftsmen of the city. The clang of hammer on steel rang from more than two thousand blacksmiths’ forges as tools were repaired and created. Sparks flew from their great grinding wheels as chisels were sharpened and wire saws were honed.
From his vantage point Gnak could monitor their progress as his g
reat horde seemed to swarm across the face of the mountain. And although their progress upon the city was great, nothing to Gnak was so grand as that which was being constructed higher up the mountain. Leaving the troll king upon his ledge, he shifted to his orkin body higher up the mountain to again behold the jewel atop his city.
At the pinnacle of the city’s highest point sat the location that had once been the trolls’ hidden village. It was a wide clearing that ran nearly level and provided for Gnak the perfect location for Ishanya’s desires to be realized. Here, in the center of the clearing, a great towering temple was being constructed, the likes of which he had never seen a building made before.
Like the wall at the lowest reaches of his fortress, here great stone slabs were carved and stacked with bindings of tar. The stones were placed to create great layers that created squares with a hollow core. Each layer was smaller than the previous, building a structure with huge natural steps on all four faces. Though it was not yet complete, Gnak recalled it from his vision to see that all was exactly as it should be. Progress was slow but steady. It would take his horde under a year to finish the basics of the fortress and make it habitable. He looked forward to the day.
Assuring himself that no one was approaching, Gnak took one final look out upon the temple devoted to Ishanya before closing his eyes.
Breathing in the sulfurous fumes with one great sigh, the goblin king blinked away the crust from his eyes and rose from the chair where those who passed him by thought he merely slumbered. Motioning to his guards, he strode out from his recess carved into the cavern wall and climbed down the shaft to the steady rhythm of picks and chisels beating upon the rock below.
Three Kings (Book 3) Page 10
