by Sam Ferguson
Moose bent next to him. “Bear would be proud,” he said. “You did your best.”
Bull shook his head and rose to his feet. He pushed his way out of the crowd and yelled at the sky while kicking clumps of dirt with his foot.
Moose looked to Jonathan and silently motioned for him to put the feet down. Then, the large man removed his cigar from his mouth and extinguished it in his hand before tossing it to the side. Jonathan swore he could see tears welling in Moose’s eyes just before the giant warrior turned to watch Bull.
There was nothing they could do to save her.
Jonathan looked around then, hoping to see at least a few other survivors. Unfortunately, he saw only bodies lying upon the ground. The group had been quick to rescue the elves, but the smoke and fire had killed them even quicker.
Jonathan felt a numbness enter his stomach and his shoulders drooped heavily. He had been through war before, and had seen others die. His friend Sami had died in a collapsing building right in front of him. The scout Rourke died while saving Jonathan’s life. Even Bear, a veteran Ghost of the Murkle Quags, had been slain in front of him. Yet, these were the saddest deaths he had ever witnessed. These were peaceful elves. They fished for a living, and never would have bothered anyone or anything. They were likely even devoid of magic, or else they might have succeeded in defending themselves from the trolls before Jonathan and the others ever came to Vizendel.
“This is our fault,” Jonathan said. “If we hadn’t come…”
“No,” Moose said. “The trolls were here anyway. They would have killed the villagers sometime regardless of our arrival. At least this way, the villagers are avenged.”
Jonathan nodded and then looked up to find Ziegler, wanting to know what their next move was, but then he realized that the large captain was nowhere to be seen.
“Where’s Ziegler?” Jonathan asked.
Moose jumped up and went to the building, but Ruben grabbed his arm before the mountain of a man could reach the blaze.
“He’s on the water!” Ruben shouted.
“Alone?” Jason asked.
The group ran toward the docks, Moose shouted for Bull and they all jumped into a sailboat to catch up to their captain.
“Bloody fool!” Bull grumbled as he untied the boat and jumped in.
“Wind, now!” Moose shouted at Ruben. Ruben nodded and raised his hands. A mighty wind came down and launched them all forward with a jarring jerk that propelled the boat out into the open water.
Jonathan went to the front of the boat and watched as Ziegler sped toward another boat. “We need to go faster,” Jonathan said.
Ruben replied, “That’s the best I can do!”
Jonathan shook his head. They would never be able to reach the captain before he caught up with the others. Beside the hulking troll with the magic staff, there were five more troll warriors on the second boat.
“Curse his fool headedness!” Bull spat.
“Why didn’t he wait for us?” Miranda asked as she moved up behind them.
Bull grunted and sighed. “After we ended the war with the trolls, Ziegler came to live with me and my family. I introduced him to my wife and son. Well, one night, my son asked about Ziegler’s family. I would have thought the captain wouldn’t have said anything, but he did. He recounted his real name and told my son about the incident just over thirty years ago when his wife and two daughters were killed by a troll raiding party in a small village that used to stand to the northeast of Battlegrym. He told us of the spear stabbed through his shoulder and showed my son his scars. He said that the soldiers came, but only after the village was burning. Apparently some of the townsmen had lit the blaze to chase away the trolls. It worked, but nearly everyone had been killed before the flames grew big enough to send the monsters running.”
“Ziegler told us the same things,” Jonathan replied.
Bull nodded. “But he told my son more than that,” he said. “He told my son about a massive, hulking troll that gathered people into a small church and began killing them. He also told my son that the fires started by the townsfolk to scare the trolls away got to that church before he could. His wife had died by the sword, but his two daughters died in the church. The big troll with the staff looks an awful lot like the one Ziegler had described to my son.”
“But this troll wasn’t afraid to use fire,” Miranda pointed out.
Bull shrugged. “Perhaps the monster relishes the irony. I’m not sure if the troll recognized Ziegler, but I know the captain recognized him.”
Jonathan looked out across the waters once more, watching helplessly as Ziegler’s boat closed in on the trolls.
*****
Captain Ziegler steered his vessel toward the trolls. There were six of them upon the other boat, but only one that he was focusing on. His eyes could not take themselves from the tattoo on the troll’s left shoulder, the black eyes set wide alongside the narrow, hooked nose, and that foul red hair pulled into a braid. It was the same as he remembered. The troll looked as though he hadn’t aged a day since that horrible massacre those thirty years ago. Ziegler, on the other hand, was obviously older, with gray in his hair and wrinkles creasing around the corners of his eyes. However, he also had much more experience. He was no longer the young man he once was. He was the commander of the Ghosts of the Quags.
Oh, how he had longed to find this particular beast in the Warrens, but that day had never come. Ziegler had assumed the creature dead, until today. A fire rose inside the man and his heart slammed inside his chest, demanding retribution for the lives the troll had stolen from him.
In his mind’s eye he saw his children and wife once more. They were playing, swinging each other around in a field of daisies. They stopped and turned, laughing as they looked to him. Ziegler smiled back, and then he pushed the image away. He reached around his back and pulled a dagger from a sheath hidden under his waistband. His boat jumped and bounced over the small waves in the lake as he sped toward the trolls.
The hulking leader turned and smiled at Ziegler once more. He pointed to the man and drew a yellow nail across the green skin of his neck. The troll then turned and shouted orders to two of the others. The trolls drew their swords and dove into the water, directly in Ziegler’s path. The human captain held his course, hoping the boat would smash the would-be assailants. Unfortunately, they used hooked knives to pierce the hull on the sides and climb into the vessel with him. So fast were they that Ziegler wasn’t aware what they were doing until they had clambered onto the deck with him.
Ziegler let out a feral yell and rushed forward. The first troll raised his sword, but Ziegler’s rage amplified the man’s strength. He lashed out with his left hand and punched the troll before it could swing the weapon. The troll’s jaw broke and two teeth exploded out to the side, along with a bit of dark blood. Ziegler then came in with his dagger and put two thrusts into the troll’s heart before launching a savage front kick that forced the troll overboard.
Ziegler then turned to the second troll. The troll came in fast with the sword, but Ziegler lifted a nearby barrel and let the hollow container take the brunt of the attack. He then leaned into the barrel and pushed the troll backward. His right arm hooked around the barrel and he drove the blade of the dagger through the troll’s left temple. The troll collapsed to the deck.
The captain reached down and grabbed the corpse, and then tossed it into the water as well. He didn’t want any additional weight slowing his pursuit.
The large troll turned with a wicked sneer and pointed his staff to the water.
Surely he wasn’t going to set fire to the water, was he? Was that even possible?
The answer became frightfully obvious as the magical flames flowed out to rise upon the surface of the water.
Ziegler rushed back to the rear of the boat and tossed the last few barrels over the side in an effort to speed his pursuit, hoping speed would prevail over the magical flames. The boat seemed to fly as the wind picked up from behind. The bow
lifted out of the water and the ride grew very choppy as the vessel started to skip across the surface of the water. Ziegler ducked down and held on as he approached the magical fire. The flames swirled and danced around the boat, some bending down to the deck and others pushed aside by the wind around the boat.
He managed to sail through with only a few patches of the boat lighting on fire, but thankfully the sail was intact. That was all that mattered to Ziegler. He could see from the troll’s disappointed face that he had not expected Ziegler to cross through the flames with the boat. The distance between them was closing quickly now. The troll pointed his staff at the boat and attacked the hull with flames, but it didn’t matter now. In a matter of seconds the two boats would collide.
Ziegler reached down and took one of the troll swords and then he turned and ran to the bow. Flames grew around him, turning the hull into a sizzling mess of flames and gray smoke as the water below fought with the magical flames to keep the boat from being destroyed. Ziegler made it to the front rail just as his boat launched upward and came down atop the aft section of the vessel the large troll was on.
Ziegler leapt into the air, flying unharmed through the tops of orange and red flames that stretched up to swipe at him.
An unfortunate troll was steering the other vessel when Ziegler’s boat came down on top of him, crushing him and smothering him in fire. Ziegler touched down two seconds after the boats collided, avoiding the jarring impact altogether and using his forward momentum to somersault toward two other troll warriors. He sliced a leg off at the knee on his left and came up with his dagger to the heart of the troll on his right. Ziegler head-butted the dead troll to aid in removing his dagger and then he wheeled around on the injured troll.
A new leg was beginning to bud on the end of the severed stump, but Ziegler was not about to wait until the fight was fair. He shoved the blade of the sword through the troll’s chest and then jammed the tip of his dagger through the top of the troll’s skull in a hammer-strike.
Ziegler turned to see the hulking troll snarling at him.
“You remember me, don’t you?” Ziegler spat. “You attacked my home. You killed my wife.”
The troll breathed heavily and then formed a single word in Common Tongue. “Pig,” he snarled.
Ziegler shook his head. “She was an angel!” he roared. The troll lifted his staff to attack, but Ziegler closed the distance between them and kicked the top of the staff out to the side. Yellow and white flames shot out to the left, narrowly missing Ziegler. He lashed out with his dagger and cut off three of the troll’s fingers. The troll hollered and dropped the staff on the deck.
A savage, massive, green fist came in hard and slammed into Ziegler’s chest. Ziegler flew backward three feet and slammed into the base of the mast. The troll bent down, his fingers already growing back, and grabbed the staff once more.
Captain Ziegler snarled and charged in again. He leapt onto the troll’s back, wrapping his left arm around the monster’s neck and raising his right hand to strike with his dagger. The troll, however, was quick enough to reach up and grab Ziegler’s right hand before it came down, stopping the attack before the knife could ever reach his head.
The troll then used his one free hand to angle the staff at Ziegler.
The captain saw the attack coming and released his choke hold to grab the shaft of the staff with his left hand while still trying to drive his dagger downward with his right. The two then struggled for dominance over the staff as flames spewed out around them. The boat caught fire and soon they were two forms battling inside a ring of flame and smoke as the boat began to tip and lurch in the water.
Ziegler struck out with a kick to the troll’s groin. The troll’s knees slackened, but it did not lose its grip on the staff. Its other hand squeezed tightly around Ziegler’s wrist until the bones crunched and then cracked as the joint was broken. Ziegler cried out in pain, and dropped the dagger.
The troll released Ziegler’s injured wrist and used the now free hand to pummel the man’s ribs and stomach with heavy punches. Ziegler took the hits and struggled with the staff. He knew he had to get the weapon away from the troll, and somehow manage to kill the beast before it jumped into the lake and swam away. Ziegler’s anger fueled his muscles and he pushed with all of his might, driving the troll back three steps until the flames licked at the back of the troll’s legs and he began to suffer burns that charred his green skin.
The troll hollered wildly and redoubled his efforts to push Ziegler backward.
Ziegler had hoped for exactly that response. Holding the staff with his left hand, he dropped down and swung under the troll as the hulking creature drove forward. Now off balance, it was a simple matter to kick the troll into the flames that had been behind Ziegler. His boot connected with the troll’s rump and the beast flailed and stumbled into the fire face-first. Ziegler slowly rose to his knees, huffing and puffing as he watched the fire roil around the troll, but then to his horror the troll jumped up and turned around once more.
The nasty, jagged teeth were bared in a wicked smile and the troll came rushing toward Ziegler once more.
Ziegler rolled to his left, scooped up the dagger in his left hand, and then spun around to drive the blade deep into the troll’s chest. The heat of the flames enveloped Ziegler and the fire forced him to close his eyes, but he felt the dagger pierce the creature’s skin and slip between the ribs. A moment later the heat faded away and the troll fell over backward.
Ziegler stood over the dead beast and spat upon him. Then he casually reached up and slapped the budding fires on his shirt until they died.
“May the fires of Hammenfein torment you for the rest of eternity,” Ziegler said.
The boat then lurched backward and spilled him and the troll’s corpse into the lake. A great hissing sound went up all around him as the flames fought against the cool waters. Smoke and steam erupted everywhere, and then there was a heavy force slamming into his back and head. He gasped for air, but felt only cold water enter his mouth and throat as the weight on his back drove him down into the depths of the lake.
CHAPTER 9
Jonathan helped tie down the boat when they reached the northern shore of the lake. He and Jason dragged a large log over to the bank as an anchor point, though Jonathan was doubtful they would ever use the boat again. Still, Ziegler assured him that it was better to conserve supplies than waste them, for one never knew what the future might bring.
The captain had been ghostly quiet after Moose had fished him from the water. He had been unresponsive at first, but Bull’s technique of giving breaths and compressions had brought the captain back to consciousness within just four rounds. Other than complaining about a sore chest and a broken wrist, the captain said he was feeling better than he had in years. Luckily, Bull was able to construct a solid splint for Ziegler the night before. That, at least protected the injury, but Jonathan knew it would do little to dampen the pain until it was entirely healed. The captain’s battle with the last trolls had been a terrible thing to watch.
Each time Jonathan looked out to the gently tossing waves, he still saw the flaming boat capsizing with Ziegler on it, dumping him down into the lake and then slamming on top of him. It was a miracle that he had survived - a testament to just how tough Captain Ziegler was.
When Jonathan finished with the boat, he joined with the others in making camp for the night. The sun had dropped fully behind the horizon only half an hour after Ziegler’s fight with the troll on the boat. Even had the sun still been up when they reached the shore, it seemed none of them were in the mood for continuing the journey without a break. They all sat silently, gazing at the fire and eating their meager meals before breaking off for sleep. Moose insisted he take the first watch, citing Ziegler’s bad wrist as a good reason for the change in traditional roles. When Ziegler agreed without an argument, Jonathan knew that the day had been a very rough one for him as well.
When the morning sun broke upon the ca
mp, Jonathan stood and looked to the north. It was a strange sight to see, for the Nahktun Mountain Range came right up to the eastern shore of the lake here. The brown and rugged peaks jabbed at the sky with their rocky spires and threatening cliffs. This mountain range, Jonathan knew, marked the boundary between two very different worlds. On the west side, one would find the kingdoms of men and elves, but on the eastern side of the range one would discover a terrible valley shrouded in eternal darkness. It was the place where the first great wars had taken place. A realm where the very gods who had created Terramyr had clashed and swept up the mortal armies along with them. So many had perished, and so much blood had been spilt that the land itself was cursed now, a place where only nightmares could survive.
Bull must have seen Jonathan staring at the mountains, for he came up and placed a hand on the young man’s shoulder. “It’s said that one can find the gateway to Hammenfein beyond these mountains.”
Jonathan nodded. “I have no desire to delve into the four levels of hell,” he said honestly. “It gives me the chills just looking at this side of the mountains.”
Bull shook his head. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. The range is hundreds of miles wide, and it stretches from the southernmost shore to the northern edge of the continent. The mountains will keep the evil back. Besides, most of them can’t abide the sunlight. Their nightshroud, or whatever you call those thick clouds that blot out the sun from their lands, stop where the eastern edge of the mountains begin. We’re safe enough here.”
Jason stepped up on the other side and agreed with Jonathan. “Safe or not, I’ll be happy when we put this area behind us.”
Jonathan nodded.
Bull shrugged. “I, for one, am happy to be out of the forest. It will be nice to be able to see dangers from afar.”
Jonathan looked to the north and nodded his agreement. Tanglewood Forest still stretched to the north from here, but they were outside its eastern edge. The rest of the way to Inghali they would be traversing through valleys of grassland.
