by Bill Albert
“I order you to let me go!” Acrufix grunted at them
“You have no command over us,” Gallif spat at him with the sweat pouring down her face. “We see you for what you are, and it is not as a legend anymore.”
“You will be long forgotten, and they will still sing songs about me,” Acrufix said angrily struggling to escape.
“I’m sure they will, she replied, “but not as a hero.” Acrufix kicked his legs up and twisted. It was enough force to knock Gallif and Coolig to the ground. With a hand tight on Doerty’s throat he squeezed hard. Gallif tried to rise but was slow getting her footing. Coolig had been stunned when he hit the ground and tried to stop the dizziness.
Acrufix rolled hard onto Coolig and there was a distinct crack from the hobgoblins neck in the body fell lifeless to the ground. He retrieved his sword and stood just as Gallif got to her feet. He swung at her and put a slice into her arm. He stepped forward to cut her again when Doerty dove into him. The short sword was on target and it cut directly into his side.
Acrufix faulted but didn’t drop. In anger he picked Doerty with one hand and held the hobgoblin over his head. Before Gallif could stop him, he took to massive steps and slammed the noble guard into the heart of the campfire. If the sickening death cry had an effect on him, he didn’t show it.
Gallif cried in rage and rush at him swinging the burning log with all of her strength. Acrufix jabbed his sword forward and impaled it into the log. They pushed against each other for several seconds in a stalemate. Then Acrufix twisted and jarred the log out of her grip. Gallif sat back looking in the darkness for Che-Wing to return.
Acrufix took a menacing step toward her. He hit the ground with the log, and it bounced free. The top of his blade was now red-hot and pointed directly at her.
“I will live forever,” he said, and she thought she could hear him laugh. “You are a forgotten footnote in my history.”
He reared back and was about to swing at her, she had no weapons or protection, and just started his final blow when another longsword collided with his and held them back.
Gallif swallowed hard and stared wide-eyed at the freakish site in front of her. There were two forms of Acrufix facing off in the glare of the campfire.
One quickly pulled back and swung at the other, who sidestepped the arc of the sword. Instead of backing off the other cut in low and up and managed to hit the first with a glancing blow on the leg. They struggled against each other for supremacy then one brought his leg up and use it to catapult the other away. When he landed, he lost the grip on his sword and Gallif gasped that this Acrufix had been using a flame sword just like hers.
The Acrufix with the longsword ran forward to strike a fatal blow to the other. The downed Acrufix rolled out of his way and managed to retrieve his flame sword as he rose. The other was fast enough to barrel into him at full speed and they both fell to the ground in a lump.
Gallif scanned the campfire and found another burning log. She spotted one on the far side and sprinted to pick it up.
Both armed fighters were on the ground rustling for control. They rolled in changed places several times and soon both were trying to get control of the longsword. The flame sword lay in the wet grass off to one side. Finally, one of them jabbed his elbow against the others helmet, stunned, that one lost his grip on the longsword and his opponent was quickly on his feet holding the weapon. He took a few steps after his enemy who quickly rose to his feet. He swung to hierarchs but missed both times. The unarmed Acrufix was looking for a weapon or some kind of defense but hadn’t taken his eyes completely off his attacker.
Gallif approach them with her burning log in hand but knew there was really nothing she could do. One Acrufix was determined to kill her and she had no idea which one that was at this point.
The armed Acrufix pulled back for a powerful swing but before he was ready the other jumped forward and smashed into him. He missed the blade but, with a quick twist, the blunt end of the handle slammed into his lower back with such force he fell to his knees. Before the one standing could change his position, the other twisted back and planted his elbow into the opponent’s chest. The shock dropped the other onto his knees as well, but both were sluggish regaining their footing. They both saw weapon on the ground near them and ran forward as fast as they could within seconds of each other they turned to attack now that they were both armed.
Gallif glanced back and forth looking for any signs of difference between the two figures. Even with the torch on her side she knew she couldn’t take both of them on at once if that was what it came to.
They swung simultaneously and their weapons collided. They pushed against each other to knock one over, but they were evenly matched in strength.
Gallif moved toward them swinging the burning log back and forth to at least distract them and break their stalemate. When she was a few steps away they both realized she was returning. One grunted and, with all his strength push the other away. He spun in her direction so fast even her reflexes were not to enough and the flame sword blade completely knocked the burning log out of her hands. She jumped back as he rushed at her with the flame sword swinging chaotically.
Gallif could look back but knew she was running out of room and, if she were going to flee, had to do it immediately. She ducked to avoid a powerful strike and step to one side. She glanced up and realized she had backed herself into a corner. She looked up as Acrufix more down on her with the sword ready to strike.
Before he could she caught a flash of armor in the light of the campfire. The Acrufix with the longsword was sprinting towards them. He arrived just in time to strike the handle of the flame sword as the other reared back to deliver a killing blow. He pulled back hard knocking his opponent off balance. The flame sword dropped to one side as he hit the ground with a thud. The other stepped in and drove the point of the longsword into the open, blank face of the helmet. They couldn’t see it because of the cast but they could hear the distinct sound of bone splitting.
Gallif stood with one hand against the tree and the other over her heart. She was still unsure of what had just happened and why.
Slowly, weapon still in hand, the remaining Acrufix turned to look at her. “Jayus? She asked in confusion. Slowly the armored figure unsnapped the helmet and pulled it off.
BOOK TWO:
FUEL
CHAPTER EIGHT: TREMORS IN THE EMPIRE
The Council of Ministers had debated many things over the years, but no matter how divided they were it had never been as he did as this. It was a slow methodical process and picking a giant to fill the Fourth Minister’s chair and even more so in the case of the throne. In their history they had never found two seats vacant at the same time.
Two weeks after the King’s assassination they met for the First discussion and the arguments had started immediately over which seat they would fill First. Sides were taken and remarks were made, and the fighting began in earnest on the Second day.
By the end of the Fourth day there was no clear winner. The usual sides were set with the Third Minister, the Seventh Minister and the Eighth Minister firmly voting to concentrate on choosing a new King first. The Second Minister, the Sixth Minister and the Minister had made good reasoning why the new Fourth Minister should be promoted First.
As always, the First Minister remains neutral and held his opinions to himself. Unfortunately, the Fifth Minister, the newest, youngest and least experienced was finding it difficult to make up his mind. It seemed as if every time one of the sides finished their proposal he was leaning in their direction. Then the opposition would make their proposal and he would lean back.
It made the entire situation worse and, finally, on the Sixth day to save the Fifth Minister from more torment the First Minister called for a vote. The majority had chosen that replacing the King would be there first priority.
Had they been able to the Second Minister and the Sixth Minister would have tossed the Third Minister out of the open wall.
Then the
debate got worse. As if to make up for his weaknesses in the previous debate the Fifth Minister chose to speak First.
“As we are all aware of this is been a year of change in the Land of Starpoint,” he said sweeping his hand to draw attention to the eastern horizon. “Once, a mighty and powerful mountain stood there and we grew up trusting that it would always be there. As sure as we know the sun would rise tomorrow, we knew the shadow of that behemoth would always protect us. That is no longer the truth and it is the First of many changes across the land. If we are going to survive, we must change with it.”
With that all seven of the other Ministers froze in their tracks all eyes left the view of the twin towers, the remnants of Starpoint Mountain, and turned to him.
“I think to regain the confidence of the citizens of our great land a bold, forward step must be taken. One, and only one, giant is sure to bring about the unity we need to replace the King,” he said and paused. “We must, to keep an orderly government and powerful transfer of power, gives the throne to Queen Gweneve.”
Their shouts in response to cause a rumbling in the tower almost as powerful as the fall of the mountain. The elves of protest were deafening. The Queen had never had any real authority and never would! It was blasphemy! It was sacrilegious! A woman, even a giant woman, could never hold the throne.
All but two of the Ministers stood and menaced the Fifth Minister for his reaction. The Second Minister sat back and recorded every move the Third Minister made. He closely monitored the anger in the Third Minister’s voice and the rage in his eyes.
The First Minister sat as solemn as ever and none of them took the time to see the crooked smile on his face.
***
It was well after sundown before the Council adjourned for the day and the Second Minister followed the Sixth Minister to his private quarters.
Before speaking the Sixth Minister let to the oddly shaped pipe that sat on the table, nurtured the flame until it was hot enough, then took a long draw on the and let the smoke blowout through his nose.
“I’m a bit mystified by the Fifth Minister,” the Second Minister admitted after denying an offer to take a draw from the pipe.
“It was an outrageous proposal,” the Sixth Minister scoffed stroking his beard.
“I’m not so sure. It had its effect on the Third Minister. Did you see his face?”
“No,” the Sixth Minister admitted.
“Of course not, you’re too jilted by the suggestion and lost focus,” the Second Minister scolded him.
The Sixth Minister looked at him and took yet another draw of the pipe. “So, tell me.”
“He was furious. He almost completely lost control. The thing was it did not seem like he was just angry. It looked, almost, as if he’d been betrayed.”
They both sat silently as the haze from the pipe filled the room.
“Perhaps we were wrong,” the Sixth Minister said. “Perhaps the Third Minister is not holding the strings as we had suspected.”
“If not,” the Second Minister said slowly as the lightheadedness from the smoke started to affect his thinking, “then who is?”
***
The Third Minister let out a cry of rage as he slammed his fists on the table in the torture chamber. Breathing heavily, anger pouring from him like sweat, he looked at the cells, even into the pit for something to punish. Finding nothing there his anger erupted again, and he put a firm grip on one of the cell doors. He stepped back and ripped the door from its hinges and smacked the iron bars against the floor.
“How dare he suggest putting that stupid wench into the throne” he grumbled.
On the way down the long and dark staircase from his inner office to the torture chamber he sundered his anger against the stone walls. At one point he encountered one of the members of his private security force, all of the Ministers had them, and ordered him to investigate the Fifth Ministers private residence. If the opportunity arose, he had added, bring someone who won’t be missed to the chamber.
He waited there for them now.
He ground his hands together wondering what he had missed. He had been cleverly bating the Fifth Minister into his way of thinking and was sure that he would fall in line. He had checked out the Fifth Minister’s personal history and had found very little he could use, unlike the Seventh Minister over whom he had a great deal, but what he had uncovered he had used. What else was there?
He considered the possibility that the Second Minister and the Sixth Minister had managed to come up with something they could use. He had agents planted throughout Spring Field and doubted they could have done so without him knowing about it.
Perhaps there had been some connection with the deceased Fourth Minister that he was unaware of. That possibility had not occurred to him before, but it was something that needed to be checked. He made a mental note to begin an investigation as soon as he returned to his office.
He heard footsteps approaching at a rapid pace and looked up to see one of his hobgoblin agents approaching. He was disappointed when he saw there was no person being delivered to him to question and his anger rose.
“What is this?” He asked in rows menacingly. “I ordered you to bring me a subject.” “Yes, my Lord, but something else has come up possibly about Gallif,” the guard said quickly.
The Third Minister sucked in his breath and paused a moment to calm himself down then he nodded for the guard to continue.
“We received a message from Daktera. A single wagon carrying a wounded giant pass through town early this afternoon. They were picking up hobgoblin militia along the way and were headed in this direction.”
“Mekon?”
“Most likely,” the hobgoblin nodded. “There has been no sign of the caravan carrying Gallif for two days and this wagon with a wounded giant is most likely the agent who was escorting her.”
“How soon will they be here?”
“Tomorrow evening at the soonest.”
Feeling much better the Third Minister bit his lip and considered the good news. With that annoying human bitch gone he may not need the Fifth Minister after all.
***
The Fifth Minister cautiously stepped through the hallway leading into his private residence. He took a slow breath and looked at the colors of the curtains on the walls and the direction the candle flame tilted. He knew there were many traps cast in the hall, he had ordered them cast, but once in a while his casters would change the position to try and catch him off guard. Usually he made it through safe but there were occasions he ended up trapped in a beam of light or tripped up by a random vine.
He took a half step forward and immediately felt tingling as if hundreds of invisible ants were swarming over his foot. He jumped back and stomped down on the ground until the cast dissolved in the tingling went away.
He traversed the rest of the hallway and went through the door without any more problems.
“I hate those casts with the damn ants,” the Fifth Minister said to his chief caster.
“I know. That’s why I use them so much.”
“As well you should,” the Fifth Minister laughed.
The Fifth Minister had the most secure dwelling in Springfield, if not in the entire Land of Starpoint. He had carefully chosen who to invite into his inner circle and knew that they were all committed to protecting him. He trusted the hobgoblins, they were stationed around the exterior, but for the interior, the more private spots, he had hired the most creative and determined people he knew. When it came to keeping secrets and spying on the neighbors it was humans he counted on.
“There were some attempted intrusions into your residence today, my Lord.” “How many?” “Just to. They went into the office, the false one, and examine some papers.”
“Which ones?”
“Your notes over the weather changes after the mountain fell.”
“Oh,” the Fifth Minister shrugged. “I’ve already submitted them to the archives. Did you follow them after they left?”<
br />
“Yes, sir,” the caster nodded just a bit offended. “There is a tracer spirit cast on one that spent several hours touring various points in Spring Field. The other left here and reported directly to the Third Minister. That was when the cast was dispelled.”
“I suspected that, after today, he would have someone watching me, but I didn’t think it would go that fast.”
“My Lord, if I may ask, what did you do today?”
“I suggested the impossible,” the Fifth Minister said patting his caster on the shoulder.
With that he turned and went into his private bedroom. Once there he sat down and stared at the burning candles.
“How did it go?” a voice from behind the curtains asked.
“As expected,” he said slowly inside. “Some days it’s difficult letting them treat me like that. I’m tired of playing the fool.”
“Someday they’ll remember you as the fool who would be King,” the voice teased him.
“Then we will abolish this foolish counsel and any opposition,” he said with renewed excitement.
“Of course, we will bring power out of their hands and into ours. Where it should be.”
“The sooner the better,” he grumbled.
“No matter what,” the voice said as it slowly pulled open the curtains. “How nice that my husband, the idiot Paleth, was assassinated at such a young age.”
“And the girl?”
“They will bring her to us,” Gwen eaves said. “Then she will take a place at my side.”
***
The next morning did not go well for the Fifth Minister. Many of the Circle of Ministers took their opportunities to berates him for his proposal to move the Queen to the throne the Seventh, Eighth, and Ninth ministers were especially hard on him for his proposal. Though not as vigorous as he had been the day before the Fifth Minister did not completely back down. The Second Minister was muted but supportive of the Fifth Minister and it was the Sixth Minister who finally called for other proposals to move the process along.
