Third option: strategically attack. This was generally Arreya’s go-to option in most situations. She was a huntress and very good at her work.
Once she was past the bulk of the force, she could outrun them easily. She had never seen amphiboids use bows, and not all Orcs were trained to use them. Arrows were too expensive for use by grunts. It was possible the Ogre was trained in archery, but it would take him a bit to recover a bow and take a shot. That was Arreya’s real gamble in all of this.
She would wait until they were close, launch a surprise attack to take out the three Hobgoblin archers as quickly as possible, and then sprint for the eastern end of Dragon Pass. With any luck, she could wing south and put the mountain’s edge between her and them before the Ogre could grab a bow for a clear shot. This was the only viable plan. She took a deep breath, sank as far as she could into the shadow of the large boulder, and waited.
The scenario Arreya played out in her mind a half dozen times began to unfold almost as if she choreographed it. The Ogre traveling at the head of the column passed her as oblivious to her presence as she had envisioned. The bulk of the middle of the pack also passed without noticing her. Then, things went off plan.
As the Hobgoblins bringing up the rear approached, a particularly alert Orc glanced in her direction and let out a scream more panic than warning. This was not the opening she had hoped for, but now was no time for second-guesses. It was the time to improvise or die!
Arreya pounced from her hiding place like the panther she so resembled, a coiled mass of muscle springing into a blur of deadly action. Before the cry fully escaped the lips of the alert Orc, she cut it short with a dagger slice across his throat. The Orc dropped to the ground, hands uselessly clutching his neck as his lifeblood soaked the ground around him. Hurdling his fallen form, spear in hand, the half-Zafirr huntress charged the three bow-wielding Hobgoblins at the rear of the vanguard.
The first Hobgoblin, blinking tear-filled eyes, gawked at the spear unexpectedly protruding from his chest. Spinning to her left, she yanked the spear out of his still-beating heart and, without pausing her graceful pirouette, sent the dagger in her left hand plunging into the chest of the second Hobgoblin. As he dropped to his knees and fell backward, she reversed the pivot of her upper body, pulling her dagger from his torso. This left her in perfect position to hurl her spear directly into the throat of the last Hobgoblin ten feet away, frozen in awe at the speed and carnage of the Zafirr chats-enash.
This dance took mere seconds. Arreya knew if this had been a hunt, cheers from her tribemates would greet such a performance. It would have been beauty incarnate to any Zafirr observer. To her victims, it was a macabre ballet of death, which the Hobgoblins had no time to appreciate before it claimed their lives. Her moment of surprise was over, however, as the Ogre leader was already calling out orders.
“Don’t just stand there, you worthless sacks of guts, kill her!”
Arreya wasted no time engaging the end of her plan. She dashed toward the mouth of the pass, grabbing her precious spear from the corpse of the third Hobgoblin en route. Just as expected, several poorly-thrown spears clattered along the rocky ground barely forcing the fleeing Zafirr chats-enash to even alter her course to avoid them.
Soon, she was beyond throwing range. Although the enemies were in hot pursuit, pausing only to retrieve their thrown weapons, they were no match for her speed. A few dozen more strides would put her far beyond any hope they had of catching her.
Flashing a quick glance over her shoulder, she saw the Ogre commander stooping to retrieve one of the Hobgoblin bows and nock an arrow, just as she had expected. In a few more seconds, he would need to be able to shoot through a mountainside to hit her.
As she rounded the southern lip of the mouth of the pass, her hope and elation turned to dismay. At least a dozen Hobgoblins and three-dozen Orcs, all bearing a shield sigil of a smashed, white skull, were charging full bore in her direction.
Crouching into her battle-stance, Arreya prepared to meet the wave of rushing attackers and end her life, taking as many as she could with her. Just as the horde of goblinoids were about to break upon her, the sea of attackers parted like river waters around a giant stone. They rushed past her without so much as a passing glance and charged into the pass behind her. Had she suddenly become invisible?
A single, huge Hobgoblin chats-enash walked slowly toward her from the rear of the charging hoard.
“You must be Arreya, right?”
Shock and confusion raced through her mind as she tried to process whether to attack, flee from, or parley with this stranger. Her indecision led to a follow-up comment from the oddly-cordial goblinoid.
“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”
“Uh,” she began, for the moment ignoring the jibe. “It is just that I don’t believe I know you, and I am wondering how exactly you know me. I am also quite why I wasn’t slaughtered just now by a tribe of Ayabim-worshipping goblinoids.” Realizing the harshness of her words, she hastily added, “Uh, no offense intended.”
His snaggle-toothed smile and gravelly laugh did little to alleviate her suspicion. She kept her body tight, ready to spring into action at any moment. She would need to use this parley to figure her best way to get free and continue her journey to Aton-Ri.
“No offense taken. My name is Garrack. My brother Ebon and I are good friends of Thatcher, who I believe you do know.”
“Thatcher? The young thief?”
“That’s the one. Ebon sent word Thatcher was part of the team on the trail of whoever was behind the organizing of the Wild Land tribes. He asked me to keep my eyes out for anything unusual. I also heard the expedition had an unusual scout. Supposed to be some type of feline chats-enash named Arreya.”
“That would be me.”
“I figured. Ain’t many like you around. I also figured Bloodskulls and Bonecrackers, the friends you just left behind in the pass, teaming up qualified as unusual.”
“Really?” Arreya asked, finally releasing the tension in her shoulders. “Why is that unusual?”
“They have always and ever been mortal enemies. In the Wild Lands, Bloodskulls and Bonecrackers will kill each other for any reason, or no reason at all. Now they are suddenly traveling in the same company?”
“That does sound unusual.”
“We been on their tail for days. We have been closing the gap, but couldn’t quite catch them. Fortunately, their caution entering the pass patrolled by Durgak from Stonehold, and your delaying them a bit, let us close the final distance.”
“So, Garrack,” Arreya inquired, determined to make the most out of the conversation to supplement her report to the mayor, “why would these warring tribes suddenly unite?”
“That’s an excellent question. It seems there is some mage called the Blue Mystic making promises of expanded territories and boundless riches for any clans willing to join up and assist with some big plan.”
Arreya, still somewhat cynical at the idea of an altruistic Hobgoblin, even though he was clearly a chats-enash, decided to press the question.
“And your clan has no interest in more territory or boundless riches?”
Garrack’s fearfully hideous grin returned.
“Nah, that’s not it. See, I took control of the Skullcrusher clan about six months ago.”
“Not by popular vote, I take it?”
“Heh, not exactly. More by, uh, retiring the former leader. Since then, I have been working to broker a peace between the Skullcrusher clan and the nations to our north, Rajik and the city-state of Aton-Ri. I have also been rallying other peace-minded Hobgoblin and Ogre chats-enash to look at taking over leadership in vulnerable clans and joining my peace efforts.”
“Why would you do this?” Arreya asked. The Djarmangara goblinoids and amphiboids had never given an inkling of willingness to seek peace. She could hardly believe what Garrack was saying.
“My father was Adami, and what he wanted most was the bloodshed bet
ween his people and my mother’s people to end. I aim to see that happen.”
The subtle look of skepticism on Arreya’s face grew tangible.
“So all these will-bound servants of the Ayabim are just dancing along to your song of peace with the Adami? I’m not from around here, but from what I know of goblinoids, that sounds very out of character.”
The most gruesome ear-to-ear grin he had shown yet swept across the feral face of the Hobgoblin chats-enash.
“You see, that’s the great thing about my mother’s people. You can get them to put on pink dresses and skip around a campfire singing praise hymns to the One Lord if they think you are strong enough to kill them if they don’t. Most Orcs and Hobgoblins are fairly tough fighters in large numbers. One-on-one, however, their top priority shifts to keeping their stony little hearts beating. The fact that I am fast and strong enough to rip their arms out and beat them to death with them tends to discourage rebellion.”
“Now that sounds a lot like the goblinoids I am familiar with.”
“Yeah,” Garrack continued. “The thing about us Hobblers as the Adami call us half-bloods, is that something in the mix makes us quicker and stronger than the purebloods. Pretty much the only goblinoids with any chance of holding their own against me are Ogres, and I can thrash all but the mightiest of them."
Boisterous cheers erupted from the pass behind Arreya. The battle was over. As stragglers trickled out of the pass, they all bore the sign of the broken, white skull on their shields, Garrack’s emblem.
“I guess you will be on your way now?” Garrack asked.
“By your leave,” Arreya affirmed with a nod.
“When you see Thatcher, tell him he owes me one. Oh, and tell him these renegades we just dispatched were the last stragglers heading to join the Mystic. Word was any clans wanting to join were to meet in the pass beyond Stonehold, just a few miles past the Narrows. By the fact that you are heading this way alone, I am guessing they wouldn’t have found a welcoming party left once they got there anyway.”
Not sure how much she should reveal of the happenings in the pass to this still uncertain stranger, she simply and quickly expressed her thanks, bid Garrack farewell, and resumed her marathon toward Aton-Ri. This little encounter had cost her both time and energy, neither a luxury she had in abundant supply. It would likely be well after sunrise tomorrow before she finally arrived.
Still twitching from adrenaline coursing through her veins, Arreya found herself thinking about the complexity and connectedness of the young rogue, Thatcher. There was more to this remarkable youth than she imagined. His companions held him in high esteem, and now this Hobgoblin chast-enash mysteriously comes to her rescue. She would be careful not to underestimate the youth again.
The cool, spring evening air picked up Arreya’s spirits and her pace. She found the Rajik countryside at night refreshing and energizing. Running beside the road rather than on it, the moist green grass of the Rajik meadows cooled her toes and lifted her joy throughout the night. Heart pounding, lungs pumping, muscles hot and tingling, Arreya could not remember when she felt more alive.
She drank from her water skins as needed, slowing to keep from spilling the precious liquid, but not daring to stop and let her muscles start to cool down or cramp. Endurance and continued movement was the key to a run like this. Soon enough, the water skins lightened to the point of not being a burden at all.
As the morning sun crept above the eastern horizon, her weariness faded somewhat as she saw in the distance the tiny silhouettes of the towers of the walls of Aton-Ri. She had made much better time than anticipated, having been invigorated by the beautiful open country and crisp night air.
In the Djarmangara, unless one was in the tops of the highest trees peering above the canopy, one could hardly see more than a few hundred yards at a time through the dense trees and underbrush. She never imagined the sky could be so big, so blue, and so beautiful.
During their journey west, she focused on scouting the road ahead for any possible danger to the caravan. She could not take time to truly appreciate the beauty around her. Now, with danger behind and hope ahead, there was no more fitting way to pass the time. Truly, the One Lord stretched out the heavens with His hands, and in this place, He had stretched them widely.
After entering Aton-Ri’s west gate, she strode toward the city hall, her limbs quivering from the exertion of her long run. As she stood winded and waiting for the messenger to announce her to Mayor Farnsworth, she could already feel her muscles beginning to tighten. After a brief wait while he concluded another meeting, she was ushered in to see him.
“Well, lady Arreya, I didn’t expect to see you so soon. Please tell me you have good news to report.” The mayor looked more than a little concerned.
“Great news, actually, Your Honor,” she said.
She had caught enough of her breath to speak but her muscles were now screaming in protest.
“We have broken the ambushers operating in Dragon Pass beyond Stonehold. It should be safe for quite a while for caravans to resume trade.”
“Yet you return alone?” asked the mayor, his face crinkling even more.
“Only to get word to you as soon as possible, mayor. I ran all night to bring this message. Captain Gideon and several others went on to Cyria to continue investigation of the power behind the raids. Captain Tropham has brought the fallen troopers from Aton-Ri to be entombed in Stonehold in a place of honor before he returns with the survivors.”
“Does Captain Gideon have reason to suspect Cyria?”
“I am afraid he does, mayor. Xyer Garan turned on us in the battle with the raiders. He nearly killed Captain Gideon. Garan also called one of the Ogre bandit leaders by name.”
“Oh dear,” said Farnsworth, looking as if he might be ill at any moment. “I am sorry to hear of Captain Tropham’s losses, but glad the Durgak are accommodating. Is there any other news I need to be aware of before meeting with the other leaders?”
“One interesting development came to my attention during the run here. According to what I heard, Mayor Farnsworth, a clan of goblinoids called the Skullcrushers has been in touch with you about peace talks?”
The mayor, clearly stunned at the scout having this information, nodded an affirmative and bid her continue.
“Well, then I have good news for you on that front. The Skullcrushers, and their new leader Garrack, disposed of some straggler reinforcements heading to join the ambushers. Members of the Bloodskull and Bonecracker clans, as well as amphiboids most likely from Darkmoor, were destroyed last night at the mouth of Dragon Pass by Garrack’s forces. Truth is, they may have saved my life.”
“Well, then, I shall take that into consideration when next I meet with Garrack. For now, though, please tell me in detail everything that happened.”
Arreya spent the next hour recounting to the mayor the key happenings on their westward journey. He was quite dismayed at Garan’s betrayal and the heavy losses among Captain Tropham’s men but was overjoyed at the outcome of the battle and the news that caravan traffic might soon be back to normal.
“Still and all,” cautioned Arreya, “you can’t be too careful. I would still make sure the caravans sent travel under heavy guard until Captain Gideon has fully unwound the mystery behind this organization of the humanoid hoards. Things won’t be truly safe until this Blue Mystic is found and taken out of a position to continue this plot to organize and mobilize the clans.”
Farnsworth nodded agreement and, after a few more minor questions, offered to make arrangements for Arreya to stay and rest at the mayor’s expense until the others returned.
“While I appreciate your generosity, Mayor, I plan to leave tomorrow morning. I will rest for the day and tonight but plan to be on my way back to Stonehold at dawn.”
She knew the urgency was over now that her message had been delivered, and that it would be quite a while before Gideon and the others could complete their task and return. She would have
time for a leisurely journey back to Stonehold, enjoying the beauty of the One Lord’s creation. If she were really lucky, maybe meeting some more Centaurs was within the realm of possibility.
An easy day and restful night behind her, Arreya set out on the journey back to Stonehold. Dragging her tired and protesting muscles toward the west gate of Aton-Ri just about dawn, she passed a group of caravaneers who had gotten word from the mayor it was once again safe to travel west through Dragon Pass. There were many more armed mercenaries than usual, but it also looked as though three or four merchants agreed to team up together to send a large, fortified caravan through as a test-case.
The Durgak vendors in Stonehold would be thrilled to see such a throng come through. Many first-time mercenaries passing through Stonehold could not resist buying exotic Durgak souvenirs and fine metalcraft jewelry. Regular soldiers might only be able to afford a simple silver chain or bauble here and there, but these wealthy merchants would be hard pressed to escape Stonehold’s trading district without being cajoled or shamed into picking up a fine bejeweled necklace for their wives, or the women who sometimes stood in for their wives.
Arreya heard tales of the wanton habits of most Adami men, but she hoped to one day find her true bondmate for life. One thing was for certain, however, that be he Adami or Zafirr or some other race, breaking that bond would prove to truly be a fatal mistake. The Zafirr vow was, “Bonded until death” but any mate she took that chose, while she was still living, to bond with another would find death not far behind.
Into the Mountains
After seeing Arreya safely on her way toward Aton-Ri to report to the assembled ambassadors meeting there, the task of hunting down the stragglers was now underway. Duncan, along with Donovan, Sable, and the Durgak bezrek fit to travel, grabbed a quick bite of yochama bread and filled their water skins from those of the downed soldiers. Bidding farewell and One Lord speed to the Adami finishing the cleanup, Duncan, Sable, and the berserkers set out up the southern ramp to where the ambushers had lain hidden.
Fool's Errand Page 24
