Elvenshore: 01 - The Dwarves of Elvenshore

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Elvenshore: 01 - The Dwarves of Elvenshore Page 13

by Clark Graham

The healer looked up from his sewing. “He is very weak. We think that he will live but it will take a long time for him to get his strength back. There,” he added as he finished the last stitch. “We are running low of herbs; if you are willing I will put some of this black elf goo on the wound?”

  “That would be fine. I don’t like mud packs anyway,” Sarchise responded.

  The healer put the spider’s blood on the wound and bound it up with rags. He also put the arm in a sling then went on to the next patient. Sarchise stood up and looked around for his sword. His scabbard was empty. A wounded dwarf noticed and said “Here, take mine, I will not be using it anytime soon.” Sarchise nodded and took the sword. He rushed back to the fighting. A short dwarf sword would work better anyway, now that he was down to one arm. As he got back to the lines he noted that there were very few unwounded warriors. He had no reserve and he would not be able to hold off the gremlins much longer.

  The gremlins had just been driving back again. The dwarves had fallen back a long way down the trail. The archers were out of arrows and there was no hope to rush forward and get some more as there were not enough warriors left. The gremlins were massing for another assault when one of the soldiers came up to Sarchise. “Sir, there is an arrow in my shield.”

  Sarchise, through the fatigue and pain, tried to figure out what he was talking about, and then it dawned on him. He said out loud. “That’s a dwarf arrow fired from the other side of the gremlins.” He looked around for a low-lying branch and said, “Quick, help me up this tree.” Four or five dwarves grabbed his feet and boosted him up. He had a hard time hanging on with only one arm, but managed to get his leg around it and sit up on the limb. He yelled while waving his sword back and forth. In the distance behind the gremlins he heard someone yelling back.

  Sarchise dropped down off the limb. “Form up, we must press them. Everyone that can wield a weapon, forward, Cazz is here; we have the gremlins in a trap!” With that the tattered army pressed forward. The gremlins were pressed on both sides and were trying to climb trees to escape. Just as fast the archers were recovering spent arrows and knocking the fleeing gremlins down. Meanwhile the attack pressed on, cutting down gremlins like a hot knife through butter. The two dwarf armies met in the middle.

  The Two Cities

  The trail was now awash in red and green blood. The slow process of sorting out the living and the dead began. Cazz brought up the wagons from his baggage train to put bodies into. First the living and then the dead. Dealing with the spiders had taught them not to leave anything edible in the forest. The dead were brought out of the deep woods and burned. There had been three humans in the gremlin army. They found them after the battle was over. Two were dead and one was badly wounded. Sarchise spoke to the wounded one briefly before he died. As they packed Hemlot into a wagon, he tried to protest but was too weak to finish his sentence. He and the other wounded they would take back to the fort at the Ornamac tree to rest and recover. Cazz got Sarchise to the side.

  “We cannot win. If every time we send an army into the woods it gets mauled. We barely have a full army between the two of us,” Cazz said.

  “I spoke to the human leader of this army.” Sarchise said, “This was the only gremlin army left. Tabor is breeding another one now but it won’t be ready to fight in many months.”

  “This human, was he cooperative?”

  “No, but I don’t think he lied to me as the other two did. He knew he was going to die and had no reason not to tell the truth. He was saying the same thing you just did, that there was no way we were going to win. He didn’t seem to know that we had destroyed the breeding pits under High Mountain. He kept saying that the dwarves there were in for a big surprise.” Sarchise said. “He was arrogant up to the end. He also said that when Tabor came down out of the mountains again, that he would have an army twice the size of his last one and sweep the forests and the valleys of all that will not bow to him.”

  “How are we going to fight this?” Cazz asked.

  “We have to destroy the breeding pits under the Mountains of Iron.” Sarchise responded. “But first I need to go into Zor. I feel that there are more answers to questions there that I do not know enough to ask.”

  “You will need a larger army. Two armies of Low Dwarves are now at the Ornamac tree. I will send them here to camp. After you have found your answers in the Kingdom of Zor send for them. Meanwhile I will give you all of the warriors that I can spare. I will take the wounded back with me to the Ornamac. You took a big chance, if I had not received your message, you and all of your soldiers would be dead now.”

  Sarchise smiled. “Thank you for the help. I seem to be leaving you with the wounded again.”

  In the next few days Cazz broke camp and started back for the Ornamac taking the wounded with him. Sarchise was left with just over half of his army’s original strength. He had a mixture of dwarves from both armies. As they were low on provisions, Sarchise stayed in camp for a week and sent out hunters. Part of the game they brought in every day was dried to save for the journey ahead. Wild berries were also dried to store them for the long journey.

  They broke camp and immediately started back down the trail that they had cut through the deep woods. Sarchise had calculated that two more days of trailblazing and they would be through to the Kingdom of Zor. He halted the troops where the wounded had been put and sent the axe men ahead. Every six hours he would send up fresh axe men and bring the tired ones back. At night they chopped by torchlight, but had archers behind them to stop any creature and pails of water to stop accidental fires. As dawn was about to break on the second day, Sarchise was awakened.

  “Sir, we have come upon a stone wall. It is too high to climb and too wide to go around.” The scout reported.

  Sarchise moved down the trail with his new commander, Oswin, to look at the wall. Oswin had been Hemlot’s under-commander, and been with Sarchise since the first time that he had left the great hall. When they came upon the wall, they noticed that it was about twenty feet tall. It had been covered so with vines that it had been eaten up and disappeared into the vastness of the forest. The axe men had cleaned off the vines in the one section and split up to clear a path against the wall in both directions. Sarchise examined the stones intently. There was no mortar between them, each stone was cut so the next one fit in. There was not even enough room to get the tip of his sword between the stones.

  “Elves do not work with stone, their magic is in wood. Man always uses mortar when he builds with rock. The minotaur don’t usually build their own buildings but take over from some other species. This has to be the work of dwarves.”

  Just then one of the axe men came back down the trail to find Sarchise. “Sir, we have discovered a gate.” Sarchise and Oswin both followed the axe man back. There was a gate that looked like it had been made of wood. Bits of a badly rusted hinge was all that was left of a gate. As they walked through the gate, there between the trees was an enormous city. All of the buildings had been overgrown with vines. The streets had bushes and trees growing in them and even some of the buildings had trees going up through the roof. The gray walls were surrounded in a carpet of green vines and trees. There were no birds or animals within the walls, just a sense of deep gloom. An evil filled the air; if one listened closely you could almost hear the ground crying out for justice, for revenge. Deep and foreboding hung thick around them. None of the dwarves would walk past the gate. Sarchise took a few steps in, but felt something was watching him, hating him. He acted like he was satisfied with what he saw; he did not hesitate to get back outside the gate.

  “Bar the opening with trees, I don’t want what is in there to follow us. Find a way around this wall, we will not be going through,” Sarchise commanded.

  The axe men blocked the opening with the fallen trees and proceeded to cut a trail around the city. It was hard work and took two days to complete because of the vastness of the city. The warriors could not sleep so close to the walls, so the
whole army was awake and watching, so deep was the foreboding coming from the city. When they were at last clear of the city, Sarchise rested his army for a day and a half before continuing on. By noon the next day they had broken out of the Westwood and into the Kingdom of Zor.

  The grasslands stretched for miles with gently rolling hills, and they could see the gray shapes of the Mountains of Iron to the north. Behind them stood the Westwood looking like an impenetrable wall of trees. Sarchise set up camp and then sent forward scouts and sent runners back through the woods to Cazz, telling him of their progress.

  Most of the army was still bruised and hurting from the recent battle. Sarchise’s left arm still throbbed and it felt good to let it rest from the long journey. He let the dwarves have small fires, as the spiders and bears were not known for hunting outside the forest. He did not want the large bonfires as he was yet unsure of whether he was in friendly country or enemy.

  It was good to have hot food again. It improved the mood of the dwarves. It was simple fair of rabbit and venison, as there was little bread and cheese left, but it was warm. The cooks also made a soup broth with the rabbit. After dinner there was time to sharpen their axes and swords. Someone had found Sarchise’s old sword but he left it in the baggage cart as it was too hard to wield a full size sword with only one good arm. Most of the dwarves slept under the stars, as the weather was good. The healers built up a shelter, as they usually do, even though they only had a few patients, mostly from tripping over the roots of trees. They were also keeping an eye on the few walking wounded that were allowed to go with Sarchise, which includes Sarchise himself. Keeping a few guards out to keep an eye on things let the rest of the army get some much needed rest.

  In the morning, after a breakfast of rabbit and venison, the army formed into ranks and marched out of their camp. The dwarves were even in such good spirits that they began to sing traditional marching songs again. Sarchise smiled to himself despite his pain. Things were starting to look up.

  He headed his army across the plains, not wishing to take the old King’s Road, as that way would be watched. After three days of travel over the rolling grassland, the scouts that he had sent ahead started to report back. They painted a clear picture; only one of the Kingdoms old cities was now inhabited. There was a small human settlement inside the ruins of the town, but there were some gremlins patrolling outside. Whether they had the humans inside held as captives or they were allied with the inhabitants, the scouts did not know.

  At that point Sarchise only moved the army at night, and hid them in the lowlands during the day. He did not want to be spotted. After a few days march they made camp in a small valley with a stream of pure water running through it. There they replenished their drinking water and washed themselves as best they could. Sarchise took off his armor and put on his old Royal Scout green cape and hood. He had to have a little help because of his sore arm. He climbed a small hill with some brush growing on it so he could get a good look at the city below. What he saw chilled his blood. There were about fifty gremlins and two hundred humans. The gremlins were taking orders from some of the men. There were a few others men, women and children that were obviously servants of the men who were in charge of the gremlins. The women would fetch water and the men and older children were put to work fortifying the city. Sarchise snuck back down the hill. That night the army of dwarves surrounded the city.

  In the morning the inhabitants were awakened by the sounds of dwarf battle horns. Some of the gremlins panicked and tried to flee out of the gate but were cut down by arrows. The gremlin commanders finally got the rest under control and tried to organize the defensive. Sarchise moved his troops forward. They found weaknesses in the makeshift walls and were soon through the old wall. A battle in the street began but it was one sided. There were not enough gremlins to make a stand. The dwarves killed all of the gremlins and most of their commanders. Only two survived the brief battle. The rest of the inhabitants greeted the dwarves like liberating heroes. They cheered as the dwarves went past; some of the women hugged and kissed them.

  Tales of Evil

  After the battle, Sarchise had the prisoners brought in for questioning. The first one was a man named Timor. He was a hard man and had many scars on his face from battles and bar room fights. Sarchise sat him down, but had him tied to the chair.

  “What is your purpose here?” Sarchise began the questioning. Oswin was there too, sword at the ready, just in case.

  Timor laughed. “Looks like you met my brother and his army in the woods on the way here, how many of you did he get.”

  “Your brother and his whole army are all dead.”

  Anger flashed in Timor’s eyes and he tried to rise out of his chair and go after Sarchise but Oswin grabbed him by the hair of the head and pulled him down. He held his sword against Timor’s throat and said, “Let me remind you that we are asking the questions here.”

  With that Sarchise asked again, ““What is your purpose here?”

  Timor laughed again; even with Oswin’s sword at his throat he was cocky. “It’s only a matter of time until you know. We will rule the Four Kingdoms, and you and your dwarf friends will all be dead. Like my brother.”

  “But why take the village?” Sarchise asked.

  “I’m not going to answer any of your questions.” Timor turned his head to the side.

  Sarchise had him taken away and the other prisoner brought forward. His name was Zohn. He had been wounded in the battle. An arrow had gone through his right shoulder. He was a tired, weak and beaten man who was in a lot of pain.

  “What is your purpose here?” Sarchise began again.

  “The village had a lot of farms and herds when we came here. Our job was to raise food for the armies of Tabor.” Zohn said, “But the locals didn’t take kindly to being enslaved. They would rebel from time to time. Timor was the commander; he is a blood thirsty man. Instead of just beating them and sending them back out to the fields, he would have them killed. Soon there wasn’t enough food to feed the village itself. Then when he heard about an army in the Westwood, he gave up with the farms and had the people start to fortify the city. You got here faster than we anticipated. Timor sent his brother and an army to slow you down leaving only enough gremlins to watch over the shrinking villagers.”

  “Where did Tabor get men to command his army?” Sarchise asked.

  “They are from a small Tavern along the North King’s highway, in the Kingdom of Ril. He recruited many of us. He promised us adventure. We would do anything to get away from the boredom. Some of us he put in a secret cave under High Mountain. Some in the breeding pits of the Iron hills. One was sent to keep an eye on the dwarves and the rest of us were put here. That is until Timor sent some with the gremlins to delay you.”

  Sarchise said, “Do you think he will recruit more?”

  “No, when the King found out that a man named Tabor was out and about he put a bounty on his head, and the head of anyone who has joined up with him. Too late for me, I found out what I had gotten myself into. I cannot go back to my old life, as I will get killed for the bounty money. I did not realize what the whole picture was when I joined up. Now it’s too late.”

  “What is Tabor’s goal?” Sarchise asked.

  “He wants to control the whole world. At first we thought that he just wanted to destroy the Minotaur. That was all right by us because we have no love for the creatures, then he wanted to destroy the dwarves, that was not agreeable, but he talked us into it because they had not helped us in the last war after all. But when we came here and started enslaving and killing humans, it wasn’t all right anymore. I kept looking for a way out, but Timor would have me killed if I tried and failed to escape, and the bounty hunters would have me killed if I did escape. I had no choice.”

  “Do you know how to breed gremlins?”

  “Yes and no, Tabor told us how it was done, but it is very complicated and I have never done it, I don’t know if I could do it given the chance
.”

  At that point Sarchise knew that Zohn had just signed his own death sentence. He had one of the men from the city brought in.

  The man’s name was Hoeron. He was so happy to be liberated that he kneeled down in front of Sarchise.

  “Get up,” Sarchise said. “I am not a ruler over you.” Hoeron got to his feet.

  “Tell me, how did you get to be slaves of Tabor?” Sarchise asked.

  “It was horrible; we had come from the Middle Kingdom to resettle the land. There were 500 of us with a certificate from the King that we could re-colonize this Kingdom, as long as we subjected ourselves to the King of Ril. He being the only King left. So we settled here and began to till the ground and raise crops. We had a small force of 60 men to protect us. When our first crop was ready to harvest we saw a large army coming towards us. We had not cast the walls back up for we were the only ones in the land. We braced ourselves for the attack. With thousands against 60, we had no way of winning and the battle was over in a matter of minutes. Timor and his bloodthirsty gang took over.

  “At first we cooperated and did as they said, But Timor would rather rip out a man’s heart than talk to him. Soon we saw that they were not going to leave after they took all our crops but were here to stay and would be forcing us to plant again next year. Timor lusted after the mayors daughter and took her as wife against her will. When the mayor objected Timor had him killed. After that the men in the village rebelled and refused to work in the fields. Timor and the rest chose out five and slew them in front of the whole city, including their wives and children. After that we did not rebel openly, but every time a gremlin would venture out alone, or in small groups, they would simply disappear.

  “Timor must have noticed his army was shrinking because he mandated that no less than twenty gremlins had to travel together. Still in the middle of the night when no other patrols were about, sometimes the group of twenty would vanish. When Timor found out that he had lost three patrols in three nights he went into a rage. He killed every man in the village that was large or strong in stature to be a threat. At that point we gave into our fate, except for the Mayor’s daughter who tried to kill Timor while he slept. She stabbed him but missed his heart. He awoke and killed her, and then in the morning he killed the rest of her family.”

 

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