She saw ogres and men fighting alongside one another. All evidence of either side’s formations was lost, and now it had broken down into sheer battle. As she focused her attention on the bulbous nosed goblin that dug an axe into one of her soldier’s sides, she brought her sword up and quickly brought it down, cutting the creature's chest wide-open. It fell in a heap next to its latest and final kill.
Behind, her unit fell upon a particular group of goblins who were outnumbering one of Gresh's warriors six-to-one, and they quickly saved the ogre’s life by tearing away at the enemy.
She put her shield up just in time to block the heavy swing of a crude, sharpened bone that she assumed served as a sword of some kind. Her arm and body went with the force of the blow, allowing her to quickly turn around, thus not letting her target get to her back. Without any caution, the goblin sneered; it wiped away slobber that dripped down its open mouth, and then it charged. She gave a simple horizontal slash and cut the goblin down, using its own momentum against it.
The next goblin was upon her in seconds as a morning star came flailing wildly at her. She was successful in keeping a tight circle around the goblin, who couldn't quite keep up with her speed. But the quick motions it made with its weapon cut off every path, every opening she saw.
It jerked the weapon backward and snapped it forward, sending the spiked ball over Agrias’s head. With a quick motion and a cry of hope, she side-stepped the head and put her shield up, letting the spikes catch in the wood; she prayed they didn't pierce it and stick into her bare arms. She cursed to herself, remember that the gauntlets she should have been wearing were left on the war table.
But her plan worked, and as she let her right arm fall with the weight of the morning star, she moved and hacked downward. The goblin’s arm fell to the ground with a sickening thud, and as it cried in pain, she brought her sword across its face and put it down. She quickly undid the straps of her shield with the fingers she could manage, while still gripping her sword, and let it fall to the ground, the head of the morning star still stuck in it. The bruising would surely be felt should she survive this, she thought. Looking around, she noticed a kite shield lying on the corpse of one of her fellow humans. She said a solemn prayer to him before taking it and storming off into the battle once more.
* * * * *
Sir Ewan was fighting side-by-side with Boss Gresh, the two of them cutting goblins in two with their great weapons. Ewan charged one, seemingly larger than the rest, and swung straight for the beast's head, cleaving it off; but with the spinning motion, he turned on his heel, the blood and mud-soaked ground beneath him giving him added speed, and was poised to strike again. However, this time, he pierced straight through a goblin's chest, lifting it up and then slamming it into the ground. He removed the blade from the corpse and made for his next kill.
Gresh was less graceful in his approach to the fight. Remaining completely unaware of the various slashes and cuts the goblins had managed to land, he kept swinging the crude yet highly effective greataxe. With massive, weight filled swings, the ogre cut a bloody swathe through the battle; being covered in his enemies’ own innards and perhaps even his own blood did nothing but fuel the Boss.
Charging at Sir Ewan was a mounted goblin, holding the reins of the fleabag it sat atop in one hand and a twin-forked spear in the other. He knew that his sword was too heavy to get off a swing without catching that spear in the neck, and as it made pass after pass at him, all he managed to do was deflect the thrust to one side. He winced in pain; it had come too close and caught him slightly in the cheek. It was naught but a scratch, but it burned. With a battle cry that eerily reminded him of a cackle, it charged once more.
“Oh, come on. Come on. Come on.” He repeated to himself. All the air left his lungs as it grew closer and closer. With a sharp exhale, he hopped on one foot and brought his greatsword up. He could feel it bite into something, but his eyes went to the splash of red that burst from his shoulder. It had went wide this time, perhaps reading his footwork or giving him a wider berth accounting for his greatsword.
He spun, clutching the pectoral muscle on his chest, unsure of where it had connected due to the armor, just in time to see the fleabag collapse and fall on top of its rider. Letting out a relieved laugh, he turned his attention back to Boss Gresh... but to his horror, he saw only the ogre desperately fighting back.
Goblins had wizened up and attacked the leader of the mercenary band en masse. Two of them hung off of the ogre's hulking shoulders, others had dug their daggers into his legs. There was at least six of them all sticking him with their blades. The Boss had dropped his axe and was hurriedly using both of his hands to try and throw the goblins off, but every time he did, they would come right back to it.
Sir Ewan tried to hack and slash his way to Gresh, but the goblins were determined to bring him down and let no one get to him. Across the way, past where the Boss was slowly being stabbed to death, the knight saw No-Tongue crying out and slashing at nearly everything that got in his way; but he too was being overrun. Ewan grit his teeth and nearly swore when he came to the realization that they were thinning out their enemies’ numbers, and in desperation, the goblins sought to take down as many as they could before their loss.
But when Ewan finally cut his way to the circle in which the goblins let their kin tackle Boss Gresh to his knees, he heard a thunderous sound. He turned his head just in time to see the last reserve the goblins had on their side.
A giant.
The creature was massive, standing nearly half the height of the wall itself. Sir Ewan's eyes went wide as he saw the creature barrel through the forces under its feet. Whether it was human, goblin, or ogre, the monstrosity cared not what it crushed nor what it swiped at with its spiked club. Sir Ewan assumed that the goblins must have stuck spears in a tree that they cut down and given it to the giant as a weapon.
It was dressed in crude furs, and a small mantle of auroch fur fell to just above its shoulder blades. A makeshift loin cloth sat loosely around its thin hips, and bands of pure iron were fastened to its wrists and ankles. The face was a horrid form of twisted teeth and uneven eyes. Every breath sent hot air into the now cooling night sky.
Sir Ewan turned his attention back to Boss Gresh, to go and defend the ogre, but he was too late. The goblins finally managed to bring him to the ground, still stabbing at the ogre relentlessly. In a heap that saw goblins fall off of him and tumble to the ground, all life had left him; Gresh had fallen.
Seeing his Boss being brutally taken down, No-Tongue went wild – a fury that even Sir Ewan had never seen on the battlefield. The silent warrior cried out to the best of his ability and began taking slashes at every goblin that stood in his way. Digging his swords through their flesh and kicking and shoving to get to his fallen leader, No-Tongue failed to realize that he too was being taken over by the goblins. One finally managed to get its spindly arms around his neck, trying to balance its knife enough to cut to his throat.
Sir Ewan was on the move once again. Trying his best to ignore the giant and the now screaming pain that was in his shoulder, the knight charged forth.
He passed Boss Gresh's corpse and took swings at the foes that tried to get in his way in a fashion that would have made the bearded ogre proud.
When he finally reached No-Tongue, he threw down his greatsword and tried to tackle the goblin off of the ogre's back. It hung on just long enough that Sir Ewan tumbled to the ground, landing harshly on his injured shoulder. Crying out in pain, Sir Ewan flipped onto his back and sat up, just in time to see the goblin lose its grip on No-Tongue's collar and slip off. With a quick motion, the ogre spun around and dug both swords into the creature's back.
If it had been any other day, any other fight, Sir Ewan would have swore the duel-wielding ogre was walking over to him to put him down. But he simply put both of his swords in his massive hand and shot the other out, helping Sir Ewan up.
Without questioning the gesture, Sir Ewan cried out
in pain at the weight he was forced to put on his arm. No-Tongue smacked one of his swords into Ewan's chest. Wordlessly, Ewan took it in his left hand.
“That giant is heading for the wall. We have to stop it!” Ewan went to move, but the pain was too much.
He looked at No-Tongue, forgetting that he wouldn't get a response, at least not with words. All he got was a dismissive head shaking from the ogre.
There wasn't anything they could do. The giant had already blown past the vanguard, who were turning their attention back to the now thinning horde of goblins.
As the day had completely turned to night, Ewan knew that the only hope of keeping the wall secured was Commander Agrias.
* * * * *
Many goblins had attempted to make it past her and her unit, to try and sneak in past the wall and between the archers and the shooters, but none had made it so far.
As Agrias took out the legs of another goblin and plunged her blade into its heart, she saw it. A hulking giant had made its way over the hill and she was horrified to see that it was hurling men and ogre alike into the air, sending them crashing down to their deaths.
She had never known the kind of terror that worked its way into her stomach, tightening every nerve in her body, as she watched the massive creature striding toward the wall.
“Form up!” she shouted. Agrias sheathed her sword and took out her war horn. Letting out two quick blasts, the men in her unit quickly dispatched the goblins that they had become entangled with in order to regroup. “Take that giant down! We cannot let it breach the wall!”
The command had nearly fallen on deaf ears when the men saw the thing march toward them, taking swings with its club that sounded like thunder echoing across the valley.
There wasn't anything she could do now. Some of her soldiers began to retreat and make their way back to the hole, but just as quickly, a shot from one of the blunderbusses stopped them in their tracks.
“Oi! You sorry lots really gonna run now!?” Ogrin was perched atop one of the merlons, his blunderbuss was still smoking. “Listen to her, you pissants!” For the first time, Agrias felt grateful for Ogrin’s vulgarity.
“Men, that thing is fast approaching, but it won't matter how far you go. That thing will make short work of the wall and everyone behind it. I can't speak for the vanguard, but we aren't dead yet!” She turned her attention to Ogrin, who was watching the chaos the giant was causing. “Ogrin! Can your shooters take that thing down?”
“Aye, if you get 'em close enough. These things aren't the best at a distance. You'll have to get him to us first.”
She wasn't sure how she was going to do that. She turned once more, the blonde hair sticking to her face with blood or mud, she hadn't been able to tell the difference yet.
“We have to do this.” she said to herself but then turned back to her men, her voice barking once more. “Get into formation! Loose ranks, men! Don't let that thing take out so many of us with one swing. Archers! Let your arrows fly true! Keep its attention on us and not the wall! Ogrin!”
“I know what to do, lady-knight,” he responded in typical fashion.
She let out a shaky sigh and took a stance.
The giant came to a stop as it witnessed the soldiers forming up before it. As if sending a warning to them, it smashed the club on the ground, in the middle of an entanglement between goblin and human forces, sending them into the air with dust and rock alike. The ground shook from the crater the creature created, but Agrias’s forces did not budge. Ogres and humans who had been around the impact took the initiative to charge at the giant and slice at its foot. It took a few moments, but the giant finally realized what was going on and picked up a human soldier and crushed it in its grasp.
“Move back! Move back!” she commanded, and while they kept their eyes on the hulking beast, they shuffled backward just out of the creature's reach. It stepped closer, but this time its attention turned toward her archers. To Agrias’s horror, it wound up a strike from its club once again.
“Get down!” one of the soldiers next to her cried out, just before the massive weapon came crashing down on the wall and sent the rock work careening downward onto them. Those who had shields managed to get them up and winced as the rocks crashed and broke apart before them; while others fell to the ground, either concussed or dead.
“Just a little further!” she shouted, not even knowing if anyone was listening now. Dust kicked up and destroyed any visibility she once had. She coughed as she desperately kept her eyes open, but it was too much. Tears filled her vision, and she felt suddenly blinded.
When some of it cleared from wiping her face with a bare hand, she saw the club of the giant heading straight for her. Commander Agrias's eyes went wide and she tried to get her shield up, but she was unaccustomed to the weight. Just as the club crashed into the shield, shattering it into splinters, Agrias felt her feet leave the ground, and all the air left her lungs when she crashed onto the ground below. She heard a crack at some point, but she wasn't sure when. Her view started to dim and all she could see was the silhouette of the giant behind the smoke and dust it had kicked up.
Agrias couldn't keep her vision steady, and things began to dim as she fought the urge to finally sleep. It had been days since she had. Too worried about her maps and strategies.
Agrias’s eyes finally shut as she heard the muffled sounds of Ogrin's shooters.
* * * * *
The pain brought her back as she shuffled in her sleep. She nearly screamed when she felt a resistance against moving her arm. Light poured into the darkness, and she struggled with opening her eyes to it. The flap of the tent was open, letting the sunlight in almost as if it was right outside.
She put her hand up to prevent it from blinding her, but it was quickly eclipsed by a vaguely human shape.
“My god, she's awake!” the familiar voice of Darius said as she quickly felt him put his hand on her forehead. “The fever broke. Good, good, good, good.” He was shuffling at a table nearby Her vision was beginning to solidify as she watched him shuffle to a nearby table. She was relieved she was in a private tent. She tried to speak, but her voice barely came out; instead there was only coughing.
“Water, water! I'm so sorry, Commander! Here! Help me, please?” She was too dazed to realize that someone else stood behind her, and next thing she knew, firm hands gently lifted her head up. Just as Darius went to help her drink from the mug of water he had, she quickly snatched it out of his hands and drank it herself. If she wasn't a smarter woman, she would have been convinced she'd been giving a magical potion for how much better she felt after nearly drowning herself in the water. She began coughing after drinking too much, and despite her desires, forced herself to stop.
“Wh-what happened?” she finally mustered. She went to move but realized quickly that she was naked from the waist up. A large bandage had been placed over her chest, covering her breasts and the majority of her left arm; a sling had been fashioned to hold it in place. Looking down at herself, she realized she was covered in new scars that accompanied the old ones. Most alarming was the one that nearly extended to her neck, shooting out from beneath the bandages.
“We won.” She was shocked to hear the voice of none other than the ogre, Ogrin. The hands she had felt holding her head up were his.
“The g-giant,” she stammered trying to remember all that had happened.
“Eh, a few blasts from my shooters put it down. The wall might need some work though.” The hoarse laughter, that only a few days ago had brought her so much anger and frustration, now brought a smile to her face.
“I'm surprised you're still-” before she could finish her statement, the pain in her head caused her to nearly chip her teeth with how hard she bit down.
“I'm afraid to say that our victory against the goblins did not come without costs, Commander.” Darius said, handing her another cup of water. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that the creature broke your arm.”
“Still tho
ugh. I've never seen a human get hit by a giant and live, lady-knight,” Ogrin added. But what concerned her was the grave look Darius still had on his face.
“And...?” She asked, but she was afraid she already knew the answer. Her good hand went to the bandage on her face.
“When it shattered your shield... a bit of the fragments slashed your eye. I'm afraid... you won't be able to see out of it ever again, Commander. I'm so terribly sorry.” Darius said, taking her hand in his. “I'll give you a few moments to absorb this.” He bowed low as he left the tent, slowly.
“I'll be with the boys. We're scouting the field trying to find the Boss. No-Tongue and your man-girl knight, Ewan, think they know where he fell,” Ogrin said as he ducked out of the tent.
“Ewan... is alive?” she said aloud, feeling more alone then she had during the entire campaign. She lay there half-asleep, half-awake trying to accept her injuries as best she could. Nearly an hour went by when a familiar shape appeared in the entrance of the tent.
“And I thought I looked bad.” She knew the voice from anywhere. Agrias cried out in pain as she tried to sit up, but Sir Ewan placed his hand on her shoulder, calming her down.
“You lived... how? The giant...” Her mind raced as she struggled to put all of the pieces together.
“Is dead. That's the important part. Don't worry. Once you're up and moving around, I'll have the reports ready for you to read. As for now?” She hadn't noticed that in his other hand was the bottle of wine from her pavilion. He had sat two cups on Darius's table. “You never accept my offer of a drink. So for right now, while you don't have any battles to win or soldiers to command... we drink.”
She smiled at the knight and noticed that he had taken off his armor. He was wearing a loose fitting shirt with bandages covering his own chest, but he had not nearly as many as she had. If she weren't a soldier, first and foremost, she would have gotten self-conscious of being without a shirt herself.
Tales of Mantica Page 19
