by Sam Ferguson
“But we did find them on the way to where the temple is supposed to be,” another scout put in. “Perhaps they have taken the temple, and the dwarves fight with them to drive away the Tarthuns.”
Samek nodded. “Any sign of the dwarves?” he asked.
“None that we saw in the open valley,” the scout said. “We saw lots of hills, but no sign of underground dwellings.”
Samek nodded again and thumbed at the distant mountains in the east. “I sent two other scouting parties out to the mountains. The first found no sign of tunnels or caves, other than an old bear’s den that is now empty. The second has yet to return, but I expect them any moment now.” The big man took in a large breath and then looked toward the north, scanning the waters of the Inner Sea. “We’ll wait here for now. We have a decent understanding of the land around us. That will be good knowledge for our chief to have when he arrives. Halsten should make landing by nightfall. Secure the prisoner, Halsten may have some questions for him.”
“He doesn’t speak our language,” one of the scouts said.
Samek nodded and grinned. “Halsten will figure a way to make the defiler talk.”
The scouts nodded and took the young wounded thing away. Samek then turned and walked out beyond the southern-most tent in the camp. He scanned the flat area around them and then looked to the tall hills covered in thick, waist-high grass. As he watched, he tried to understand what kind of peoples they would be facing. He had expected great warriors, but now to see something that was more of a worm than a man, he had to wonder what other forces might have driven off the Tarthuns.
After a while, he settled on the fact that the Tarthuns who had made the bargain were lazy cowards. They had allowed themselves to be conquered by Jarle without fighting to the last. The simple truth was that they likely had abandoned the temple just as soon as Jarle made the great exodus. Then, once the Gray Wolf Tribe was gone, and the Tarthuns had allowed the temple to fall to neglect, some other humans began to flourish where they might have otherwise been stamped out of existence.
In a way, the large man felt cheated. He had come for glory, to fight alongside his chief and restore Akuhn’s temple and put down wicked men who had defiled the valley. Instead, it appeared as though he would be slaughtering a race of forgotten men that did not know how to fight properly. A race of sheep. Samek frowned and spat on the ground. Where was the glory to be had now? Halsten would be proud to restore the temple, of that Samek was sure, but the tales would have been better remembered if the battle for Akuhn’s Temple had been between equals.
Samek shook his head, content in the fact that there was at least the obvious abundance of game to be had. Just that morning they had seen a herd of deer more than two hundred head strong. To make things better, they had already taken enough game the day before that they were able to let the entire herd pass by without needing to take any of the animals.
Perhaps it would be worth crushing the worms to regain the temple, even if all it brought was an easier life than the one they had left behind in Feklyn Woods. Maybe after they reclaimed the temple, they could fight the dwarves.
Samek left his thoughts and took some food with him to the edge of the Inner Sea. After living in the Feklyn Woods, he now found himself drawn to the shore along the water’s edge. He found the great expanse of blue both calming and exciting at the same time. It was a feeling he couldn’t describe. He sat in the soft sand and marveled at how the shore here was so soft compared to the hard sands of the desert they had gone through along their journey. He was nearly half way through his roasted turkey leg, something he had never tried before last night when the hunting party had slain several of the large, dumb birds, when the last scouting party returned.
Bryk came to him quickly and crouched down with a serious look on his face that made Samek set the rest of the turkey leg down.
“We found the dwarves,” Bryk said quickly. “There are three hundred of them marching to us right now. They are perhaps a half hour behind us.”
Samek grinned. “Then we shall have a bit of fun before Halsten arrives after all!” He chucked the remainder of the turkey leg out into the water and jumped up to his feet. “There are two hundred of us,” Samek said. “We shall crush the dwarves into the dust.”
Samek sent orders throughout the camp and the warriors prepared for battle.
By the time the first of the dwarves appeared on the crest of the grassy hill, Samek and his men were more than ready for them. Samek noted that the dwarves were wearing strange armor that appeared to be suits of metal, like the stuff the orcs sometimes used, but much more polished and bright in the light of the sun. The Varvarr had no such armor, but that did not give him cause to rethink his plans. The Varvarr were strong, and Akuhn was with them. If the dwarves had come to fight, as was obvious by their arms and armor, then Samek would happily oblige them.
Five of the dwarves came down the hill. They walked calmly, but kept their eyes on the Varvarr.
“Looks like they want to talk,” Samek said to no one in particular. He stepped forward to show himself as the leader.
The dwarves came toward him and then they lifted the visors on their helmets.
“Do you speak my language, little men?” Samek asked with a slight chuckle. “For I surely do not speak yours.”
One of the dwarves stepped forward.
“I speak your language,” he said flawlessly.
Samek balked and raised an eyebrow. “What is your name?”
“I am Gauer,” the dwarf said. “I have traveled beyond the mountains and learned many languages, yours included.”
Samek nodded, impressed but no less inclined to lop the dwarf’s head from his shoulders. “What is it you seek?” Samek asked.
“My clan seeks peace,” Gauer said. “We wish for you to leave this valley if you have ill intentions, or if your intentions are pure and you also seek peace, then we can direct you to a suitable place where you can make a home.”
“Oh, and where would that place be little man?” Samek asked as he folded his arms.
One of the dwarves shifted a bit, but he made no move of his hands toward his weapons, so none of the Varvarr attacked.
“There is another valley, across the Inner Sea to the northwest. We would ask that you remove yourselves to the place. I can mark it upon a map if you have one, and if not, I can provide you with a map.”
“Remove ourselves? This is our valley,” Samek replied.
Gauer shook his head. “No, this valley does not belong to your people. It is already inhabited, and it is under the protection of the dwarves.”
“No,” Samek said flatly. “This is the Sacred Valley of Akuhn. It belongs to the Gray Wolf tribe. Look around you, dwarf, we are only the beginning. We are a scouting party. My chief will soon arrive with the rest of our tribe, and we are here to take back our lands. We will not share the valley with any who defile it. Even if you were to give us our temple and hide in a corner of the valley, we would come for you, and we would kill you. This valley is OURS!”
“Then there is no peace?” Gaeur asked.
Samek laughed and shook his head. “The war has already begun!” Samek lashed out with a front kick that sent Gaeur flying back into his comrades. One of the dwarves rushed forward, but Samek grabbed the little man’s wrist in one hand and hoisted him up high above his head. With a mighty war-cry to Akuhn, Samek brought the dwarf down onto his knee. Even the armor couldn’t save the dwarf as it bent backwards and the dwarf’s spine snapped in half.
Gauer and the others retreated as Samek tossed the body to the ground and then walked back to the others.
“Archers, invite our new guests to come down and play,” Samek called out.
A line of forty warriors raised their bows and let loose. As Samek watched the volley of arrows fly through the sky over the four fleeing dwarves, the prisoner began shouting from his place near the center of the camp. Samek looked back at the young man tied to a large pole set in the gro
und and held a finger to his lips. The prisoner glared back at him with a fire in his eyes that had not been there before.
The prisoner’s newfound courage made Samek smile all the wider.
Only one dwarf fell under the barrage of arrows, the others seemed unharmed by the missiles, but Samek was not concerned. He ordered the second volley, and then the third. After that point, the dwarves on the hill let out a mighty shout and began running down the hill. As they went through the denser clumps of grass, all that could be seen clearly was the tops of the helmets as the dwarves advanced.
Samek laughed at their diminutive size and gave another shout as the dwarves came to the base of the hill and started running across the forty yard expanse of flat land leading up to the camp. At this shout, two columns of Varvarr archers jumped up from the ground. While the first few volleys had not caused many casualties, this next round was a surprise that the dwarves had not expected. Samek smiled as arrows flew at the dwarves from the front and both sides at the same time.
That smile faded when the dwarves quickly formed a strange shell around themselves made entirely of shields. They moved close together, presenting shields to all three sides while the dwarves in the inner ranks held the shields up over their heads. Despite the surprise tactic, not one of the dwarves fell from the barrage of arrows.
A loud horn sounded from within the massive group of dwarves. Strange contraptions poked out from gaps between the shields. Samek couldn’t see the weapons clearly in time to warn his men before one hundred crossbows fired out at the Varvarr archers.
Shouts and cries went up as several Varvarrs dropped to the ground.
Samek growled and pulled his axe out with his left hand and took a spear in his right. He gave a mighty yell and charged forward. All of the other Varvarr did the same, dropping bows to the ground and switching to melee weapons. They closed in on three sides, rushing at the wall of shields.
Samek sprinted toward the front of the dwarf formation, unafraid of their crossbows or other tricks. A second volley of crossbow bolts flew all around him, catching others in the stomach and chest. Most of the Varvarr fell to the ground, though several did continue to charge in spite of injuries. Samek got within a few feet of the enemy and then leapt up into the air. He landed atop a shield several rows behind the front line and crashed down on it with all of his weight. He chopped down at the shield with his axe in his left hand and he heard a grunt from below. The blow was enough to do what he had wanted. The dwarf holding the shield collapsed, and Samek was now inside the dwarf formation. With his right hand he stabbed through the gap in one dwarf’s visor. Blood spurted out the side and the dwarf fell to the ground.
Another dwarf came in with a short sword and cut the spear shaft, but that didn’t stop Samek. He went into a rage and wheeled on the challenger with the bit of shaft still left in his hand. He beat the side of the dwarf’s helmet so hard that the thing spun around and blinded the dwarf. His axe then followed and cut into the dwarf’s neck. The dwarf screamed and fell to the ground.
A slight jab came at Samek’s left side, but the large man reflexively brought his axe down to knock the incoming sword away before it cut too deeply into his waist. He then lashed out with a savage front kick that sent the dwarf back a few paces, knocking into two others and tripping them all up. Samek then moved to the next dwarf and hit him over the head with his spear shaft. The wood proved no match for the dwarf’s helmet and the shaft splintered into a thousand pieces.
The dwarf laughed and came in with an axe. Samek blocked the blow with his own axe and then went for his prized weapon, a single-handed mallet that was more than eight pounds of solid iron. With the hammer in his right hand, he came down on the same spot where his spear shaft had broken. This time the helmet was flattened. The dwarf barely let out a grunt before he fell to the ground.
Samek then noticed a crossbow being levelled at him. He snapped his axe out to the left and used the bearded blade to hook another dwarf by the back of his armor and pull him in front like a shield. The ploy worked, and the crossbow bolt punched through the dwarf’s armor. Samek smiled and launched his axe at the dwarf with the crossbow just as the enemy had reloaded and was preparing to fire a second bolt. The axe cut through the crossbow and the contraption exploded in a mess of string, wood, and metal that took one of the dwarf’s fingers off.
Samek then stepped in and clubbed the dwarf with his hammer several times until the chest plate finally was so smashed that he was certain the dwarf inside was dead. Then there was a searing pain in his right side. He looked down to see a bloody spear head protruding through, just above his hip. Samek roared mightily and his rage boiled into a fury of adrenaline and anger that gave him unworldly strength. He turned on his attacker, snapping the spear shaft off in the process, and came in with a precise hammer strike to the dwarf’s faceplate. The head snapped back with a mightysnap! Samek killed two other dwarves nearby, and then found himself losing strength.
He sank to his left knee, still swinging his hammer at his foes, but he could no longer stand. For a moment he thought he was dead, but then the dwarves turned and broke ranks as a great, low-pitched horn blew and echoed over the valley.
Samek cursed the dwarves as they ran, and encouraged his men to give chase. Many of the Varvarr did just that, cutting down several more dwarves before the battle was ended.
The large Varvarr remained on the battle field for several minutes before Bryk came to him and began administering to his wounds.
“You are hurt badly,” Bryk said.
“Bah, it’s only a flesh wound. I’ll survive,” Samek replied. He didn’t actually believe that, and by the look on Bryk’s face, neither did he. Still, there was no use in complaining; that was not the Varvarr way.
“There is more,” Bryk said.
“What?” Samek asked.
“The prisoner has escaped, the bindings were cut and he is gone.”
“What?!” Samek roared. Suddenly he realized that the dwarves had not come for a battle only to run away. This had been a rescue mission. They distracted all of the Varvarr in order to save the young man. The dwarves were not only well armed, they were clever. Samek smiled. Good, Samek thought. That will make them honorable enemies.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Kamal groaned as the physician tightened the bandage around his leg. The dwarves had carried him all the way back to the safety of the mountain, away from those oversized barbarians who had come to the very shore from which Kamal had watched the Tarthuns flee. A new war, a worse war, was about to start.
“My family, all of the people in Toelvug, they need to be warned,” Kamal said through groans as the physician applied even more pressure to the hole the arrow had left in his leg.
“I have already sent messengers,” Reu said with a quick nod. “We have invited them to the mountain until these newcomers are dealt with.”
“Who are they?” Kamal asked.
Reu grew silent. His once ever-confident eyes now looked like tempestuous orbs swirling with doubt and fear. Kamal could see that Reu had an answer, but the dwarf chief wasn’t revealing it.
“This isn’t one of those times to keep secrets,” Kamal said.
“Out,” Reu said to the physician. The older dwarf bowed. gathered his tools and medical supplies, and then left the small chamber. Kamal tried to sit up on the stone slab, but the pain in his leg had intensified while the physician had cleaned the wound to stave off infection, and he found that any large movement caused bolts of pain to shoot up into his hip area from his leg.
“Who are they?” Kamal pressed. How he wished he could use his telepathy to see into Reu’s mind. There was something there, something the dwarf was not telling him, and Kamal needed to know what it was.
Reu sniffed and pointed to Kamal’s leg. “They would have questioned you,” he said. “They would have interrogated you for information about your people.”
“They don’t speak Common Tongue, nor any language that I recogniz
e,” Kamal replied. “They would have learned nothing.”
“They would have tortured you, coerced you into giving them the information they seek. Even if they made you draw where Toelvug was, that would have been enough to wipe out your people. That’s why we came for you. They sent scouts to find us, and so my guards alerted me and we scouted them as well. After we found you were stuck in their camp, well, we suited up and let their second scouting group find us. And then we chased them all the way back to the shore, marching in full armor. It was costly, we lost a lot of good dwarves, but it was worth it.” Reu looked to Kamal and offered a very faint smile. “Though we lost a great many of ours, it very well might be that we saved Toelvug. You should get some rest.”
“What are you going to do now?” Kamal asked.
Reu sighed and shook his head. “We took an oath to defend you and your people. It will take some time for everyone in Toelvug to pack up what they need to survive and come to join us in the mountain. So, I will lead an army back to the north. We will try to finish the fight that started earlier today. If we win, then perhaps that will be the end of it. If we lose…” Reu’s eyes trailed out to a distant mark on the floor and seemed to focus on some unseen point. “Well, then perhaps at least we will buy you some time.”
Reu then turned and left the chamber. He didn’t say good-bye, or even look back before he closed the doors. He was gone, and Kamal had a sinking feeling that he would never see him again.
Kamal rested on the table in silence for nearly an hour before the doors opened again. He looked up, expecting the physician, or perhaps someone bringing food. When he saw Gauer, he sighed and dropped his head back down on the table. He wanted to tell Gauer to leave, but seeing how the dwarf was second in command of the entire mountain, he doubted that it would have gone very well if he tried.
“I have been instructed to ask you if you need anything,” Gauer said with disdain dripping from each word he spoke.
