by Clark Graham
With the news the king sat down on the floor and cried. Ammlee woke up and tried to put an arm around the king, but in the process strained her wound and grimaced with pain. The King saw for the first time that she was injured and called for a healer. They took her in another room and worked on her for an hour.
A healer came out and talked to Sarchise. “She will be fine but, I am sorry, she has lost the baby.”
“I didn’t know she was with child,” he said. “Can I go into her?”
“Yes of course.”
With that Sarchise went running into the room. One of the healers was just taking some bloody sheets out of the room, Sarchise put his arm around her. “I’ve lost the baby!” she howled.
“It’s alright, you are still alive and we can make another baby.”
She was still sobbing an hour later, but had begun to calm down. He could wait no longer to find out. “Did you kill those two gremlins?”
“When they started breaking the door down I grabbed a sword. I stabbed the first one through the door but the second one got me. I was not very brave and pretended to be dead until he turned his back to me and then I stabbed that one too.”
“I think that you were very brave,” Sarchise said.
The Journey of the Wounded.
After Sarchise left, Cazz studied his position. He had over a thousand wounded and tired dwarves. This did not include the dead on both sides. He could not hope to move them all at once. As for himself, he knew that he was in no shape to travel. He had the fittest of those that were left making camp and put up some type of shelter against the elements. He then sent the same ones out to find food.
They were able find a few rabbits but that was all. He then had them make them into a stew so that there would be enough to go around. After everyone had eaten, he gathered those that were strong enough to move. Half he would keep there and the other half he would send ahead to bring back some food that was at the elf tree fort.
After doing this he had his men stack all of the dead dwarves in the handcarts. When those filled up, he piled them beside the carts.
His commander, Oswin, came up to him and said, “Sir, we cannot stay here. The dead will start to rot soon.”
Cazz knew he was right. “Unload the handcarts and stack the dead into piles. Don’t put the dwarves in the same piles as the gremlins. Load those who can’t walk into the handcarts and those that can walk, will walk. If there are any handcarts left over, we will rotate the wounded that can walk but are very weak so they won’t slow us down too badly. Then when we are ready to leave, torch the dead.
This of course was the last thing that a dwarf wanted to do to another dwarf. There being no choice, however, that is what Cazz was forced to do. He would always feel bad about. He did not torch Caspin, his brother however. They tied tunics around him and had two of the less wounded carry him back to the elf tree with them.
Going was slow. The wounded, especially those who had lost a lot of blood were weak and would tire easily. The caravan had to stop quite often. Food was scarce and the hunters were not bringing back any large animals. Those all seemed to have been eaten by the spiders.
Cazz realized that it just wasn’t going to work; most of the warriors would starve to death before they made it back to the fort at this rate. He divided the army into three groups. The slightly wounded, the badly wounded, and the very badly wounded. He would lead the badly wounded group himself. He sent Oswin with the slightly wounded group, and kept just enough of that group to pull the handcarts.
He sent the lightly wounded to the elf-tree fort. He had the second proceed to the fort at a slower pace, the third group he unloaded from the wagons and had a few of the less wounded watch over them. He left them at a small hill. He would come back for them.
The slightly wounded made fast progress to the elf-tree. If one of them could not go on then they were to leave them and the second group would pick them up with the handcarts. After four days the first group reached the fort and the food that had been sent by the King.
The elf-tree encampment had been well supplied with food. The King had sent commander Korun and fifty dwarves to pull the loaded handcarts there.
When the first group arrived, they got there just a day behind the group that Cazz had sent ahead to bring back food. They were preparing to do so until the commander Korun of the fifty that had just come from High Mountain saw how bad of condition that they were in and forbade them. He took ten men and two handcarts of food and started up the path. In two days journey, he met Cazz’s group in the handcarts. They had stopped again. It was quite a frequent occurrence. They were either burning the dead or letting the living rest. It was the latter this time. It was too late for some. Thirteen had died from their wounds, or starvation, or both. They were fed by Korun and his dwarves.
“I am so glad to see you,” Cazz said. He was weak and tired, but still able to speak.
“My prince, it is an honor to serve you. What else can I do for you?”
“Leave one of the carts for my men, but the other one you must take down the trail, there is yet another group that will need to be fed,” Cazz said.
“I will feed you first, as you have no one that is well enough to take care of the rest of you. While I am feeding you I will send a cart to the other group,” Korun replied.
Cazz was in no position to argue, so he just nodded his head.
The food and water had to be hand fed to many of the survivors. They were very tired and their progress over the last day had almost come to a standstill. If not for the rescue party there would have been no one left alive.
The other handcart continued down the trail. It was dotted with fire pits where Cazz had stopped and burned the dead. In the end he even had to burn Caspin because he was starting to smell. The King would grieve not being able to say goodbye to his son.
After three more days on the road they finally arrived at the hill where Cazz had left the badly wounded. There were not many left at that point. The healer that Cazz had left there was shaking he was so tired. They had expected over two hundred survivors. There were less then fifty.
“What has gone on here?” one of the rescuers asked.
The Healer answered. “Some of the wounded died, so we had to burn them. It was not a good idea. When we did this it attracted some spiders. They killed a few of us and tried to carry them off, but we were able to kill them. We burned both spider and dwarf. The second fire attracted some bears. There were about five of them. They killed some of us and dragged them away.
“Then more of us died, so instead of a fire we buried them in the ground, with logs all around. We figured, as soon as we were rescued, we could remove the top layer and burn those as we were leaving. But none of us have the strength for that. We have been without food or sleep for a long time. Can you take care of it for us?”
The dwarf nodded and the dead were uncovered and burned. They put as many as could fit into the wagon. The others would have to be carried. It didn’t take long before the wagon had enough room for those that remained as the others were still dying of their wounds.
By the time they made it back to the elf-tree fort, there were only thirty-one left.
Cazz stood there, amazed. “Only thirty left? What have I done?”
Korun heard the prince and walked over. “You did what you had to do. You would have lost a lot more had you tried to take them all back with you. Your group barely made it as it was.”
Cazz had his face in his hands anyway. He knew that Korun spoke the truth, but it was a hard decision and he had hoped that it would turn out a lot better.
They put the worst of the wounded near the elf-tree where the healers were working on them. There were not enough herbs to go around in the forest after the battle so a lot of the wounded were starting to infect. Cazz worried about his wounded warriors and made them as comfortable as possible.
Still he sent out regular patrols. At first there were not a lot of fighters to choose for the pat
rol, but as the dwarves healed the number of those available increased dramatically.
They left the army to heal and fortified their position while waiting for a decision from High Mountain for what was going to happen next.
Deep into High Mountain
After two days back at High Mountain the King showed up at Sarchise’s door. “How is she doing?” he asked.
“She is resting. The sword did not hit her vitals but pierced the baby. If not for the child, she would be dead right now. She is sad and sleeps a lot, for she has been through much.”
“I did not know that they made it up this far.” said the King. “We have caught some trying to steal food, they did not all retreat, but most did.”
“How were you able to beat them back?”
“When they approached, they did not hesitate but came straight at the wall. We lined the wall, as fast as we could, with archers and filled the ground with their dead. Still they came on. They had ladders and hooks. They would throw a grappling hook over the wall and pull on it till it stuck fast, then they would pull the wall down with it. We learned to cut the ropes as soon as the hook came over the wall, but they still managed to breach the wall twice. I sent warriors to protect the breaches. They did, and very few gremlins entered in that way.
“There were hundreds of ladders that they would use to scale the wall. We pushed them down as fast as they went up, but still they managed to gain the top of the wall. We were holding there also until they caught the towers on fire. When the towers went the gate did also. They flooded in faster than we could stop them, and we were fighting hand to hand in the halls. They even cut through my bodyguard and attacked me. I killed three of them, but they did manage to take a chunk out of my shoulder.
“Then, when we thought all was lost, they retreated. There were but a few of them left and their leader was slightly wounded. That is why we think they retreated. They could have done a lot more damage. As it was, the captain of the guard is dead, and I the King am wounded.”
Sarchise looked puzzled. “If he could have done more damage, why did he retreat? He was winning and he lost a lot of fighters getting through the wall? Maybe he didn’t have to. Where is Barazar?”
“Who?” the king asked.
For two days, patrols searched on the outside of High Mountain in vain for Barazar and the other Minotaur. Knowing that Barazar would never be found unless he wanted to be, Sarchise searched for them, himself. He found them roasting some chickens that they had ‘borrowed’ from a nearby farm.
“Why did you not come in with the army?”
“They shot their bows at us. They look for us now.”
“I sent them to find you to bring you into the great hall. They only shot their bows at you when they thought that you were the enemy.” Sarchise explained.
“We don’t wander into caves and we don’t sleep in holes.” answered Barazar.
“Did you know that the gremlins withdrew in good order?” Sarchise asked.
Sarchise could not have surprised Barazar more if he had reached out and stabbed him. He sat there for a moment with his eyes wide open before he finally spoke. “They only fall back in good order when they have achieved their objective,” Barazar said at length.
“That is precisely what I was thinking. You don’t suppose that they have attacked just to cause confusion? Maybe if they caused enough confusion perhaps that they could send someone down to an old breeding pit deep inside the mountain. If they did, they could breed an army inside High Mountain. They could attack from without and within.”
“No, I do suppose. He would not have to attack without. He could do it within. High Mountain is in deep trouble. We must act at once.”
After the chicken dinner they headed to the great hall. The gate guard watched the three large Minotaur warily. In a meeting with the King and the dwarf commanders, they discussed the behavior of the gremlins during the last battle and tried to figure out what they were up to. Old maps and a history of the details of battles under High Mountain were also brought forth.
Finally the King said, “In times of old when both gremlin and dwarf fought for High Mountain, there was established an inner guard. Certain tunnels had guards posted because the gremlins were present at all times. We would clear caverns, just to have them move to other caverns. There are so many places to hide under the mountain that we were never able to rid the mountain of the gremlins. Large battles and small battles were fought in the halls and down by the root of the mountain. The low dwarves were the ones hardest hit by the gremlins. The battle of talon falls was lost and an entire army of low dwarves was destroyed, except for two. That was right before the gremlins left the mountain.”
“Talon falls?” Barazar said, “They need water for the breeding pits. They will need an ample supply of fresh water to keep the pits clean. Talon falls is a good place to start the search.”
“Sarchise, take your army and search the Talon Falls area. I will reestablish the inner guard and warn the low dwarves that the gremlins have returned.” The King said.
Sarchise let Hemlot organize his army into groups of ten, as the dwarves did when they fought the gremlins before, under the mountain. Hemlot was an old gremlin warrior so he knew how to combat the foe. Because of the narrowness of the passages, you could not have large groups of warriors in formations. The groups would be close enough to support each other if they were attacked, but far enough apart to cover a large area. They sharpened their axes and were on their way. They brought Barazar along as an expert in where the pits could be located.
At first the halls they walked through were carved ornately and torches set in the walls provided light. Dwarves had long ago found a slow burning tree that grew in the mountains. They planted the tree in large numbers and used them to light their halls. Each torch could burn for up to two weeks.
Soon the trail led into the lower caves. These were not lit so the lead dwarf of each group would have to carry a torch. Caves led in many directions and the group had taken so many turns, that soon Sarchise was hopelessly lost despite his best efforts to keep track of where they were going.
There was always a group in front of them and a group behind. They seemed to know how fast to walk as each group matched the pace of the others. Soon they came to a large cavern where all of the groups halted and gathered together. There was a waterfall that seemed to come through the center of the roof of the cavern then from a stream that disappeared into another hole in the floor.
“The upper Talon falls. Here Conras, commander of an army of low dwarves met a large army of gremlins. Outnumbered ten to one he still fought bravely. He threw back their attacks three times, but on the fourth time he was overwhelmed. He died at the center of his army with his axe in his hand. Only two would live to tell the tale as the gremlins slew all of the wounded.” Hemlot said in a reverent voice.
Barazar went to the stream and stuck his hand in the water then pulled it out and smelled it. “This is not being used for the breeding pits; the water does not have a bad odor.”
“It is straight down, if we could go with the river, but a long journey by foot. We will have to go to the far end of the cavern and through some very narrow caves. Then we will find the cave that the river has carved out. It is narrow and filled with running water. We will have to walk through the water to get to the cavern where the lower falls are, according to the map.” Hemlot explained pointing out the path on his map. “Few dwarves go that way, because it is a hard journey. We only discovered the cavern of the lower falls recently. After the gremlin wars were over, some of the dwarves took it upon themselves to search out the areas where the gremlins had been. It was denied them when the gremlins still occupied most of the areas in the roots of the mountain.
“After the battle the King sent three armies down here but the gremlins had already answered the call of Tabor. All the armies did was to gather up the dead. Gremlins had never bred in such large numbers before. Had they stayed here instead of going to the M
ountains of Iron, it would have been us, not them that were driven from our homes.
“I will rest my men now for they will find it hard going during the remainder of the journey to the lower falls.” Hemlot concluded.
As the warrior lit a fire and cooked their noon time meal, Sarchise wandered about the cavern. He came upon a large rock in that had been chiseled smooth. There was ancient dwarf lettering on it. He tried to read it but found he could not.
“Here died Conras, son of Connar, Commander of the Army, and while in the service of the King,” Hemlot read.
Sarchise turned around. “Oh, I didn’t know I was being followed.”
Hemlot smiled. “I have been working on walking quietly, like you tried to teach us in the Westwood.”
“You did very well, Sarchise said, he then turned back to the rock. “He was commander of the whole army?”
“He was our greatest commander and his army was twice the size as our armies are now. When he was defeated almost to a man it sent a chill down the spines of all of the dwarves. He had pursued and killed a very large enemy force just days before he died. We assumed that the enemy was on the run. He chased a small group of them to this cavern, but when he got here the place was full of gremlins. After the three armies arrived here when the battle was over they counted the dead. One thousand dwarves had died, and there were seven thousand dead gremlins. We had been fighting the gremlins for hundreds of years. We knew that they did not breed that fast in the past. There was a new evil that had come upon us. Someone was breeding the gremlin in large numbers.” Hemlot explained.
“That is why the King was too frightened to send armies out of High Mountain when the humans begged him to. He knew that if the gremlins were still here, they could breed faster than he could kill them, so he kept his armies to himself for fear of the return of the gremlins.”
