“What are we going to do? Chuck can’t move like this. If he does, we’ll never hear the end of his whining,” Chase pointed out.
“Maybe Gabe can heal him,” Phil offered.
Chuck lifted his head, sprang to his feet, and grabbed Gabe’s collar in his big hands.
“Yes! Gabe, you must heal me! Please, I will do anything. I will go to church as soon as we get back. I’ll pray every night, I swear!” He pressed his palms against his temples, groaning at the pain his own movement and shouting caused.
“I guess I could try,” Gabe offered, unsure if the Lord’s blessings would be given to cure a hangover.
Gabe pressed his hands together and prayed silently, beseeching the Lord to remove the foolish young man’s affliction. He laid his hand gently atop of Chuck’s head. Chuck, who had been praying along quietly with Gabe, suddenly felt much better.
“Gabe, you are a miracle worker! You can party with me anytime!” he promised.
“I am glad to see you are all up and feeling well,” Elderin hailed them as he walked up to the group. “Strike your tents and pack your gear. My rangers and I wish to provide you with a few gifts before you depart.”
The group did as they were bade, packing the dome tents into their perspective carrying sacks and stuffing them into the hiking packs with their spare clothing, rain gear, and the other equipment they had brought with them. By the time they were finished packing, the entire camp had gathered to see them depart.
Elderin and each of the rangers who had contributed to their training approached bearing various items. Brody and Lucas stepped forward to present the twins with their gifts.
“Lucas and I want to give you these bucklers and two full sheaves of arrows that Elderin has magically strengthened to work reliably with your bows,” Brody said as he presented the well-crafted arrows. “They may not be as fantastic as your own, but they’ll work fine and fly true.”
Lucas stepped forward, two small shields in his hands. The bucklers were beautiful. Each was the size of a small dinner plate, made of a hardwood, and rimmed in metal with a steel disk set in the center the size of a saucer. The wood was inlaid with a carving of a forest scene. A large stag was etched on the one he handed to Phil, and a magnificent unicorn on Felicia’s.
“We wanted you to have bucklers worthy of your status as rangers,” he said, bestowing them the shields as well as the titles.
“Thank you Lucas, Brody. It makes us both proud to have you call us rangers. We will not disappoint you,” Phil answered, grateful for the honor the rangers bestowed on them.
Bronk stepped forward to present his gifts next. “I told you the first day that your weapons were crap and I’d find you suitable replacements,” the big ranger said in his usual brusque manner. “After having seen how quickly you both learned and how hard you worked, I realized that it was going to be harder to find weapons worthy of you and your mission, but I think I prevailed.”
Bronk unwrapped the canvas from around the large bundle he carried and revealed two swords in scabbards. One was a long sword in a plain but expertly crafted sheath that hung on a thick leather belt. This he handed to Chuck who drew the blade and stared in amazement.
Light reflected off the blade and revealed the many folds beaten into the steel to provide strength and maintain a keen edge. The folding pattern of the blade rippled like water along its length. The hilt was brass, formed in the shape of a lion with the pommel being the large head wreathed in a thick mane, its mouth open in a roar. The crosspiece was made of polished steel and protected the gold wire-wrapped grip.
“This is amazing, Bronk, thank you,” Chuck said gratefully.
“You are quite welcome, lad. You are a fine fighter and deserve a fine blade.” He turned to Josh. “Another fine blade for a fine warrior. I would be proud to have you fight by my side anytime, son. Mayhap that day grows near.”
Bronk presented Josh with a two-handed sword of amazing splendor. The steel was forged in the same manner as the blade gifted to Chuck. Ripples in the metal made it look as though water had somehow been tempered and honed into a deadly weapon. The blade was just over four feet in length. The hilt added almost another foot with a large counterbalancing pommel.
The long grip was worked brass in the form of a dragon in flight. The wings of the dragon were of forged steel and created the cross guard; the great neck snaked beyond the cross guard along each side of the razor-sharp blade. The head of the dragon clutched the long blade in its huge jaws while the tail wrapped around a large sphere representing a gem, egg, or possibly the world itself. The vividly cast scales of the dragon’s body provided exceptional grip for the wielder.
Josh took the sword reverently, grasped the ornate but incredibly functional weapon, and marveled at the balance. “Ranger Bronk, I don’t know what to say. It is magnificent.”
“Wield it well and complete your quest if you truly wish to thank me. That is all I ask in return.”
“I will, sir, we all will,” Josh promised.
Ranger Jeffery took Bronk’s place at the fore of the assemblage. “Most of your armor is equal to the poor craftsmanship of your weapons. We have all gathered and forged what we felt would suit you best. The ringing of anvils you heard since the day you arrived was largely for your benefit. We have put together enough armor to provide each of you with what we feel is the best protection we can.”
The ranger waved several of his companions forward, each bearing various pieces of armor. Unlike the swords endowed to the two warriors, the armor was plain and functional. Chuck, Gabe, and Josh were each given breastplates, vambraces, leather gauntlets backed with small steel plates, greaves, thigh guards, and thick-soled, steel-reinforced leather boots.
“We decided that the individual pieces would afford you decent protection while allowing you to move reasonably quietly and with a swiftness than a much heavier set would allow,” Jeffery explained as each of the young men were given their armor.
Chase and the twins were each presented with strong leather armor in which metal plates had been sewn into vital areas for additional protection. Samone walked out of the crowd and approached her former student.
“Chase, you have been a most adept student. I asked Brody to make you a special sword best suited for your particular skills and method of fighting. It is not nearly as attractive as those your two friends received. Swords like theirs would take weeks to forge, but it is strong and balanced just for you,” she explained and brought the blade out from behind her back.
The sword was truly unique if unadorned. It was a few inches longer than a shortsword, but significantly wider, closer in resemblance to a gladius. Unlike a gladius, the tip tapered to a needle-sharp point that would punch through the toughest armor. The handle was made of wood carved into a very good likeness of Samone herself.
“I wanted you to have something to remember me by,” she said smiling coyly.
Chase actually blushed as he took the sword. “I could never forget you,” he replied with all sincerity.
“I also found a crossbow in the weapons cache that Chuck and Josh’s swords were in. I thought you might like it. You can’t always get close enough to use your blade.”
She produced a light crossbow of extraordinary beauty. The entire stock was carved into the shape of a wood nymph. The nymph’s legs were carved into the stock where her feet would brace against the shoulder of the shooter. The bolt rested on her back, her arms spread wide forming the bow. Her head reached out in front of the bow, her delicate face turned up to stare at the target.
“Wow, it’s beautiful,” Chase said as he ran his hands along the magnificently carved wood, tracing out the relief of the naked sprite. “Something else to remind me of you?” he asked as he caressed the breast of the nymph.
Samone punched him hard in the arm. “You wish, you scoundrel!” she cried laughingly.
Elderin called for Gabe and Ted to stand forward. “I too have something to present you with in hopes of ad
vancing your cause,” the druid rumbled. “As I said before, you are not the first from your world to come visiting. These items were crafted in your world and gifted to our forefathers.”
He passed a long staff of polished dark wood to Ted. Sigils and elaborate designs were carved into the shaft that towered a foot over his head. A crystal sphere was clutched in the talons of some bird of prey made of polished silver and extended from the top while bronze capped the base.
To Gabriel, he reverently passed over a mace of a truly majestic design. It was a full two feet in length. The shaft appeared to be made entirely of silver, yet was light and strong. Surrounding the top were three angels made of the same gleaming metal and affixed in a way to make the entire thing appear as one solid piece. Their arms extended above their heads, each holding hands with the other, and supported a large, faceted clear gem. The angel’s wings formed the flanges of the exquisite weapon.
Both young men were astonished with their gifts and rendered nearly speechless. They cleared their throats and gave their thanks to the druid and rangers for all of their help, guidance, training, and the wonderful gifts.
“Each of your weapons carries a blessing of its own and will aid you in your journey. I only pray it is sufficient,” Elderin spoke solemnly.
The rangers also supplied three horses to help carry their gear so they could move more swiftly. They offered them each a mount, but none had ever ridden horses before, so they felt it best to walk. Brody produced a map of surprising detail.
“Your friend was taken here, through Storm Peak’s Pass. You can gain two days on them by taking this route here, through Titan’s gap. It is narrow and rough, but since you are not on horseback, it should be passable. You will likely have to release your horses once you reach the gap. That is not a problem. They will find their way back to us. Be ever vigilant. There are hostile creatures that roam that pass this time of year. Good luck and swift speed.”
“Elderin, do you think we really have a chance? Even with the training and weapons you have given us, can we really pull this off?” Josh asked the wise druid.
“I do. I do not believe you came here by chance. I believe fate that put you on this path, and it is your destiny to help our world by preventing Lord Darkrell from achieving his goal,” he said, speaking to the entire group. “As much as I believe in you, it is fate that will decide your success in the end. Were it only up to your brief training, then I would have grave reservations as to your success. However, I feel the weight of destiny resting upon you all. Do not mistake this for invincibility. Free will can always change fate, so proceed with the utmost care.”
The small troop looked silently at each other, processing Elderin’s words before they made their final farewells, thanked everyone once again for everything they had done, and marched purposefully toward the mountains.
CHAPTER 7
Drew was miserable. His back was aflame from the whippings he had taken from the angry Droog. He had to sleep the entire night on his side or stomach. Even when he avoided touching his back to the ground, he could not prevent the agony. Drew knew he could not escape right now, not in the condition he was in. He would have to bide his time and be careful to avoid doing anything that would set off the temperamental goblin. Once he felt strong enough, he would flee their clutches. He had a plan prepared, but for now, it would have to wait.
They were through the foothills and were now traversing a pass through the tall mountains. A light dusting of snow covered the ground when he awoke the next morning. As they marched onward, the snow became steadily deeper as they gained elevation. Droog spoke not a word unless it was to chastise one of his warriors for being too slow or for just being close enough for him to vent his frustration.
The higher they climbed the colder it got. Drew walked with his blanket draped over him and covered his head with one end. His feet were wet and freezing; his shoes were not designed for this type of weather. When they stopped for the night, high in the pass, he took off his sneakers and set them near the fire to dry and for his feet to warm. The skin on his aching feet was taking on a waxy appearance, and he knew from health class that this was a strong indicator of pending frostbite.
Droog also must have realized the boy’s condition, and to Drew’s surprise, provided him with two large rabbit furs. The leather hides had been rubbed deeply with oil to waterproof them, and the fur would help keep his feet warm even in this cold environment. The goblin showed the human how to tie them around his shoes with leather thongs. Drew quickly realized it was not an act of kindness the surly goblin showed him, but simple practicality. Frostbite would make it impossible for him to walk, and Droog was not about to carry him.
He slept with the furs on his feet while his shoes and socks dried next to the fire. In the morning, he donned his dry shoes and socks and wrapped the fur-lined hides around his feet and lower legs just as Droog had shown him. After a breakfast of boiled oats and dried meat, they began marching once again. They reached the summit about midday and began their descent after a short rest and quick meal.
About an hour after they began their downward trek, Droog abruptly stopped in his tracks and looked around the steep sided pass. Stones, boulders, and small, snow-covered pine trees littered the slopes. He called out a command to his goblins and they immediately went on alert, looking warily along the slopes just as Droog had. Drew wondered what prompted the sudden change in the goblins.
Stones and flint-headed spears began raining down from the heights above. Shaggy white-haired creatures appeared from behind the snow covered trees and boulders, their fur blending in perfectly with the snow. Bestial howls rose up from both sides; deep and menacing from the snowmen, high pitched, alarmed, and angry from the goblins.
Droog looked more furious at the thought of losing his prize than frightened of the possibility of losing his life. Three goblins fell during the initial ambush, one with a flint tipped spear through his skinny body and two others with their heads crushed by fist-sized stones.
“Run, stupid human, snow demons!” Droog ordered his charge and pointed with his spear in the direction they were traveling.
He then shouted for his goblins to do the same. Drew did not hesitate. He broke into a sprint, passing the short-legged goblins within moments and swiftly increasing that distance as he ran for his life. He saw the pass they were in opened up to a small valley ahead. The floor of the vale could not have been more than a mile wide, but it was filled with snow-covered evergreens. Drew thought he might be able to lose himself in the confusion if he could get far enough ahead of the goblins.
As Drew gained the vale, he saw that the goblins had picked up speed and were just behind him with several snow demons not much farther off. Out of the clearing ahead, several more of the shaggy, ape-like creatures burst out of the trees without warning. The teen skidded to a halt and desperately searched for a way out.
The goblins behind him never broke stride. At a shout from Droog, they threw themselves at the snow demons with a fury and stabbed with their short spears with a viciousness that surprised him.
Drew took advantage of the battle and sprinted between two of the white-haired brutes under assault by five of the small goblins. He raced for what he hoped was the safety of a denser stand of trees in an attempt to lose all of his pursuers that were now engaged in the battle raging behind him. Drew hoped they were distracted long enough for him to make it out of the snowy pass before they knew he was gone. Once below the snowline, the goblins would have a much harder time tracking him down.
After several long minutes of running, Drew spied the end of the dale and the way out of the mountain pass. His lungs burned, but he continued to push himself on, desperate to get away from the goblins and out of the mountains.
The snow-blanketed trees ahead of him abruptly burst in a spray of white as another of the snow demons erupted from its hiding place. Drew fell and slid to a stop at the feet of the large, hairy beast. He rolled to the side a split second befor
e the monster buried its club in the snow where he had just been lying. He sprang to his feet with surprising speed, despite his hands being bound, and darted away from the hairy creature.
He was near the steep sloped walls of the vale and began scrambling up the side, panic clouding his judgment. The snow demon had no problem gaining on him on the steep, snow-covered slope. Drew tripped over a log concealed beneath the thick blanket of snow and fell face first into the snowy ground. He rolled to his back and raised his hands over his face in a futile gesture of defense as the snow demon raised its club to crush the life out him.
Drew’s life played out before his eyes just as a small shape flashed in from behind the snow demon. Droog propelled his small body up the hairy creature’s back and grabbed a fistful of the coarse white fur. He got one skinny arm wrapped tightly around the creature’s head, his sharp nails scratched at its eyes while his other arm pumped up and down, repeatedly driving his dagger into the side of the monster’s throat. The creature’s fur and the snow all around was spattered red in a rain of blood.
Droog sprang from the snow demon’s back as it toppled forward, its lifeblood rapidly fleeing its body, melting the snow around its corpse. The young human slowly lowered his hands and stared up at the raging, blood-covered goblin. Droog spoke not a word, just grunted and pointed with his gore-shrouded knife before stalking off through the snow to rejoin the remnants of his band.
Drew got shakily to his feet and mutely followed at a distance. Once the goblin troop reformed, he realized the extent of the losses they had suffered from the ambush. Barely a dozen goblins remained, counting Droog, from the nearly thirty he had originally set out with. They scavenged blankets, food, and the powerful whiskey from their fallen comrades before exiting the tiny valley.
On they marched, putting as much distance as they could between themselves and the vale, before exhaustion forced them to stop and camp for the night. Drew contemplated his earlier plan of escape and discarded it for the moment. As long as he was in these mountains, he decided to stick with the goblins. Safety in numbers, he reasoned. His headlong flight had also reopened some of the wounds on his back. He could feel them weeping blood as it cooled against his skin. The night was cold, but he slept warmer thanks to the additional blankets he had due to some post-battle salvaging.
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