‘Six!? I could handle two, maybe three, but not six!' Flare thought. Glancing down, he located the prone form of Aaron. “Enton. Get ready. They’re fixing to rush me.” He said almost choking on the words. He drew his knife with his left hand.
The first of the goblins reached Flare, and jabbed his sword at Flare’s midsection. Flare parried the thrust, and swiped the knife, which was in his left hand, across the eyes of the goblin. The goblin fell to his knees, screaming and grabbing his gory face.
The second goblin reached Flare, and raised his sword to deliver a massive blow. Flare jabbed his knife at the throat of the goblin, and stabbed him cleanly. The goblin had already started his swing, and it was too powerful. The massive swing slammed into Flare’s sword knocking it from his hand. Flare, stunned by the blow, fell to his knees. The goblin also fell to the ground, dead before he landed. However, the damage was done, as Flare was stunned and armed only with his knife.
The third goblin to reach Flare, grinned an evil grin and raised his sword.
Flare watched the sword, as it began its descent. The sword seemed to move at an impossibly slow speed, and he wondered if it would ever reach him.
Halfway through the swing, a horse barreled into the goblin sending him sprawling. The rider, a massive black man, swung a pike beheading another goblin, and impaling another.
“Quickly Flare. Put Aaron across my horse.” The rider shouted turning the horse around.
Only when he spoke, did Flare's numbed senses recognize the rider. “Atock?! How ..”
“No time. There are more goblins are approaching. Quickly, get him up here.”
Flare scrambled to his feet, and saw forty to fifty mounted soldiers scattering the goblins. He had a hard time keeping the ground from spinning. Losing his balance, he fell flat on his face. Spitting dirt, he fought to remain conscious.
Several moments passed and Flare began to feel better. Then, all of a sudden, rough hands gripped him by the shoulders and pulled him to his feet. It took several moments, but he finally recognized Philip.
“Philip. What’s going on?” Flare finally managed, his voice cracking.
Philip didn’t even waste any breath answering, instead he leaned Flare against a horse. Philip quickly mounted, and then reaching down he pulled Flare across the saddle horn. Turning the horse, Philip raced back toward the open gates of the fort.
Flare had never felt something as horrible as the ride back to the fort. The saddle horn repeatedly pounded into his stomach, bruising him badly. The one good thing about the pain was that it helped clear his mind. By the time they had regained the safety of the fort, he was quite conscious, although he would rather have preferred to be unconscious.
Philip rode the horse just inside the gate, where a group of soldiers waited for them. The soldiers, including Kara, gently helped Flare off the horse and laid him on the ground.
Flare was getting woozy once again, but he focused on Kara’s face as she bent down over him.
“You look horrible,” was all she said.
“You don’t look too good either,” Flare replied, grinning.
Kara ignored his attempt at humor. “You’ll live. Minor burns and some bad bruises. You got a knot on your head, but I don’t think it’s serious. I’ll be back.”
Flare wondered at her abruptness, but when he rose halfway up, he realized she had left to attend to Enton, Trestus, and Aaron.
Another wave of nausea swept through his head, but this one was milder than the previous ones. He struggled into a sitting position, wincing at the pain in his stomach. He was pleased to see Atock and Philip approaching.
“Hey. It looks like I owe you both. Whose idea was it to come after me?” Flare asked.
“We wouldn’t watch a companion die, and do nothing.” Atock said, stoically. “We did nothing that you wouldn’t have done for us.”
“Well, thank you anyway. What’s our situation?” He asked. “Did we suffer any major losses?”
“No. We would have if you hadn’t pulled off that little stunt of yours.” Philip answered. “We managed to keep most of the goblins off the wall until you burnt them up.”
“Excellent,” Flare said. “Every extra day we hold onto the wall, is another day for Heather to find reinforcements.”
“If she got out at all.” Atock said. “Philip didn’t tell you the bad news.”
Flare, with a cold feeling settling in his gut, looked from face to face trying to determine what they were talking about. “Well?! What is the bad news?”
Philip glanced at Atock before continuing, “It’s the gates Flare. They took a massive beating from the magicians. We don’t think they’ll hold against even a modest assault. It would probably only take a couple of trolls, or even some goblins with a battering ram to beat the gates down. Not only that, it looks like several parts of the wall might collapse as well.”
Flare rested his head in his hands as the pain began to sweep through his head again, only this time the pain intensified instead of lessening.
‘I can’t win. We score a major victory, and in it we discover the key to our total defeat. Why can’t anything be easy?’ Flare thought.
The gates were indeed a mess. They were still attached to the walls, and still shut tight, but they were in bad shape. The heat from the magicians spells had actually started to warp the metal parts of the gates and several portions of the wall were damaged although still standing.
Flare stood looking over the wreckage, his body still itching from the ointment that Kara had rubbed on him. The blisters were already gone, but his skin still felt sore and tight.
“What do we do?” Aaron asked.
Derek had followed Flare to the wall to inspect the damage. Flare suspected that Kara had sent Derek to watch him. She seemed to be over-protective of her recent patients.
Flare rubbed his cheek. “Find the craftsmen. The stone layers and masons; see if they can reinforce it.”
“If it's sealed, we won't be able to mount a rescue mission like today.” Derek said.
Flare nodded, “I know, but if we don't seal it off, then the goblins will pour right through tomorrow.” He turned back to Aaron, “Get those craftsmen up here quick. I don't think that they will attack again today, but you never know.”
The goblins did not attack again that day, but Flare posted extra sentries anyway. With the wall crumbling, the defenders needed all the warning they could get before the goblins attacked.
The stone cutters and the brick layers quickly reinforced this side of the gate. They had stolen stone from any available structure and hastily slapped it together in front of the gates. It wasn't much, but at least it would take more than a goblin's shoulder to push the gates down.
Flare was walking through the throng of soldiers eating dinner, hoping to encourage them. He stopped to talk here and there, but he quickly decided it was a hopeless cause. The eyes of the soldiers all had the look of somebody who is waiting for death.
Flare tried to comfort a few more soldiers, and then turned to leave. He was halfway through the mess hall, when a soldier rose and blocked his path.
“Sir. What are the plans for tomorrow?” The young soldier asked.
Flare was surprised by the question. He thought that the battle plans would be the last thing these young soldiers wanted to talk about. “Well. It will be pretty much the same as today. We’ll just have to adjust to whatever the enemy throws at us.”
“Sir. I have an idea that just might save us all.”
For a brief moment anger welled up within him. He was in charge, and he was doing everything in his power to hold this fort, and now he was being offered advice from his troops. The anger quickly faded, and he realized that just maybe the soldier did have a good plan.
“Tell me about your idea.” Flare said, his hope rising.
“It seems to me that we can’t hold this fort much longer. We have done our job, so let’s storm the troops on the eastern side of the fort. If we attack while m
ounted on horseback, we should be able to get a sizeable portion of the troops through their lines.” The soldier said.
Flare’s hope faded at the words of the soldier. “What about the merchants and craftsmen? Surely you realize that you would be leaving them to their death.”
The soldier grinned, “If we stay here, then they die. If we escape, then they die. Either way they die. I say we take our chances.”
Things were getting worse and worse. Flare could see more of the soldiers nodding their heads in agreement; he had to put an end to this quickly. He noticed with relief, that the guardians were edging into the back of the crowd of soldiers.
Flare smiled, and placed his hand on the shoulder of the soldier. “I appreciate your input, but we can’t abandon our responsibility.”
He started to walk past the soldier, but the soldier blocked his path again.
“Just how do you intend to stop us? There are over three hundred soldiers, and only twelve of you guardians. It seems to me that the odds are in our favor.”
Flare could feel his panic rising. He could not let the soldiers flee now. He still needed them.
The young soldier turned and looked at the soldiers that surrounded them. Flare could hear murmurs of agreement, and acted without thinking.
The soldier was not looking at him, but instead was measuring the crowds. Flare dropped his right hand to his knife, and in one smooth motion drew the knife and swiped it across the throat of the soldier.
Surprise and shock registered on the soldier's face as he fell to the ground, his hands moving to his throat. A thin line had appeared across his throat, but it quickly turned into a torrent. The soldier collapsed and died quickly.
Utter silence greeted Flare. His actions seemed almost as if they had been done by someone else. He looked at the gory knife in his hands with surprise, not sure how it had gotten there. He let the knife fall to the hard stone floor. It clattered loudly in the eerie silence. Everything seemed distant and remote. Only one thing still stood out in his mind, the soldiers must be convinced to stay and fight. That one idea seemed to pulse inside his head.
Looking around, he could see his fellow guardians moving into position, but they would still be overwhelmed if it came to a fight. A cold resolve settled into the pit of Flare's stomach, and steeling himself, he addressed the situation head on.
His head seemed thick, almost as if it was stuffed with wool, but he ignored it. He quickly climbed onto the nearest table, and cupping his hands to his mouth, he shouted. “Soldiers of Telur. How do you want to be remembered? Do you want to be remembered as betrayers of women and children?” He paused for a moment to let the words sink in. The affect of the slain soldier lying in a pool of blood on the floor had still not passed. He shook his head as if to clear it, and then continued speaking, slowly at first. “History will judge you based on your actions over the next several minutes and days. Do you want to be remembered as cowards who fled in the face of death? If we flee, then every common person in this fort will be slaughtered! And what’s more, every farmer and craftsmen between here and Telur will be slaughtered, as well! If we flee, then you are just as bad as the goblins and trolls who will rape and kill your lovers, sisters, and mothers. Is this how you want to be remembered?”
“NO!” was the only reply. It was shouted loudly by some and quietly by others, but no one challenged the sentiment.
He had stopped speaking, not to get an answer from the soldiers, but because he had almost lost his balance. His head still seemed thick, and foggy. However, he could sense that his words were having the desired affect, and with hope swelling, he continued, “I will be truthful with you. You deserve at least that much.” Flare spoke quietly, measuring the resolve of the soldiers gathered in the great hall. “I do not think any of us will survive this siege, but I fight on because every minute more that we hold this fort, is another minute for Heather to find and return with reinforcements. I do not believe that we will live to see those reinforcements, but if we hold the fort long enough then when the goblins get through the fort and into Telurian territory, they will encounter not unarmed farmers and peasants, but an army marching to the rescue. We will have done our job!”
Flare noticed that the expressions on the faces of the soldiers were changing. They still were not hopeful, there was nothing he could do to make them hope, but there was a quiet resolve replacing the fear that had been there earlier. Hope had sprung up. The soldiers were listening to him and considering, perhaps he had a chance to pull this off.
“I took an oath, as you did, to give my life for Telur if it was necessary. It appears that it will be required much sooner than I had expected, but I will honor my oath. If you die keeping your oath, and defending Telur, the gods will surely reward you.” He quickly cast a small magic spell intended to magnify his voice. His words were spoken quietly, but the words reached to every person in the chamber. “If you break your oath, the blood of innocents will stain your soul forever. The gods will surely punish you in like measure.”
Flare paused for several moments, measuring the soldiers. Fear had left the faces of the soldiers, and had been replaced by a peaceful resolve.
“Soldiers of Telur! The goblins do not have courage for fighting a battle in which they outnumber us. We show courage because we are fighting knowing we will die. But you must decide for yourself! What path do you choose to follow? Cowardice and death, or sacrifice and eternal reward?” Flare shouted.
“Sacrifice! Sacrifice!” Was the resounding reply. A chant of “Telur! Telur!” quickly broke out among the troops, and he was relieved to see their resolve.
The soldiers’ spirits were raised by the truth of the situation. Honesty was freeing them from their fear and allowing them to face death with courage.
Flare climbed down from the table, and moved toward the guardians.
“Nice speech, Flare. I thought we were dead for sure.” Philip said quietly, still watching the soldiers.
“All I did was tell them the truth.” Flare answered slowly, still trying to understand what had just happened.
Philip grinned, “Yeah, and they fell for it.”
Murleen moved closer, “Flare, are you okay?”
Flare breathed deeply as he turned his eyes to her. “I don't know. I feel dizzy.”
He started to turn and look back at the dead soldier, but Murleen stopped him. She stepped close and slid an arm around his waist, hoping that she could support him if he fell. It would not do for these soldiers to see him pass out after making his impassioned speech. “Philip, I'm going to get Flare out of here. Would you make sure that somebody sees to the body?”
Philip nodded, but Murleen had turned, without waiting for a response and led Flare from the hall.
Murleen was lying across Flare, gently kissing his chest. They were both spent from love-making and were basking in the closeness of the other. The closeness of her body had helped him put the events of the evening out of his mind.
“Murleen. This may be our last night together. I don’t think we can last through tomorrow.” Flare paused, “I just wanted you to know that I care deeply for you. In fact, I think I’m falling in love with you.”
All the while Flare had been speaking, Murleen kept her face hidden from him. When he stopped speaking, Murleen raised her head up and looked him in the eyes. He could see her tears.
“I’ve had lovers before, but I haven’t ever had someone love me. Do you know what I mean?” Murleen said. The anguish and joy seemed almost run together, to the point where one was indistinguishable from the other.
“Yes. I have never felt this way before.” Flare answered.
“You are the most wonderful man I’ve ever met. There aren’t too many like you.” Murleen said. She stopped for a moment, considering her words. “I think I love you too, it’s just so hard for me to experience love. It wasn’t something I really grew up with. You know?”
It wasn’t exactly the resounding response he had hoped for, but it w
as probably as close as he was going to get. Murleen opening up to him like she was, caused a surge of elation to flow through him. “Murleen. You are everything I have ever wanted, even before I knew what I wanted.” Flare answered.
They laid there in silence, until they fell asleep. They spent the rest of the night sleeping soundly in each other’s arms.
Aaron left dinner early, once it had become apparent that their plans had not changed. The gates were in sad shape, but they had done everything that they could to reinforce them.
He tried to put all the fighting out of his mind as he walked from the kitchen toward the temple. He had promised to meet Elona, and he wanted to get it over with quickly. The girl was cute enough, but this morning she had seemed depressed and the last thing he wanted, was to spend several hours cheering her up.
He walked down the street from the kitchen towards the temple. It was dark out, and the streets were quiet and deserted. The only sound that he heard was the crunch of dirt and pebbles under his boots as he walked.
Drawing near to the temple, he noticed Elona already sitting on the steps. The little available moonlight seemed to spotlighting her. He smiled, “Hello. I thought that I was early.”
Elona smiled back, “I enjoy the night, and so I came here early.” She paused, “I had hoped that you would show up.” She dropped her eyes to the ground, “Thank you.”
“Sure.” Aaron said, walking up the steps and sitting down beside her. “I'm the luckiest man in the fort tonight. I mean who wouldn't want to spend time with the prettiest lady around?”
Her smile seemed to slip a little and he thought that perhaps he had said something wrong. “Are you okay?”
The smile vanished completely now, her eyes grew misty. She shook her head and then spoke quickly, “I'm so afraid of dying; it's all I can think of.” She turned a little away from him, “You must think that I am a coward, I mean you are fighting on the wall everyday and I'm the one that scared.”
The Guardians: Book One of the Restoration Series Page 26
