by Gil Hough
CHAPTER 9
INTO THE FIRES
Six days later the three of them found themselves ready to cross the Old Princess Road. Imeralda had been scouting ahead and she signaled for the two men to stay back in the trees. As a half Forest Nymph she seemed to be able to disappear into the forest. Rodregas quickly learned how she had been able to track him from Raven Keep.
While she claimed that other Forest Nymphs had far better skills, Rodregas had never seen anyone to match her abilities. They had taken the three horses back up the trail where any sounds they made would not be heard from the road. Then Doi’van and Rodregas had found some cover that still gave a good view of the road. They sat on the ground and waited until Imeralda signaled that something was coming. Rodregas neither heard nor saw any activity and his physical senses were far more accurate than when he had been a young man. His guess was that her connection with the forest had somehow warned her that something was coming.
Doi’van and Rodregas looked at each other as they squatted down in the shrubs. Doi’van had one of the Black Yew bows out, with arrows at hand, if needed. It would not be surprising if a patrol of the Immortal Guard would be on the road. The road was the main route from the port city of Chrisana Stone to the Menagerie of Sky, Earth and Water; the slave city run by the Immortalist Taiga. Most likely what Imeralda sensed was simply a trade caravan running a regular route from Chrisana Stone to any of several of the Eastern Realms cities.
If it was a light scouting patrol of just two or three guards that was coming; it would be the best case scenario for them to take on some Immortalist Guards and gain better weapons, armor and horses. Of course, if it was a slave caravan then they would simply sit and watch, as it would be suicide to do anything against a full patrol.
Rodregas heard a rustle in the brush and glanced over to make sure it was just a squirrel or the like. He started to jump up as a humanoid shape appeared out of the trees, until he saw that it was just Imeralda. She seemed to be paying less attention now to stealth as she was to speed. From Imeralda’s expression Rodregas knew it was something more dangerous than a trade caravan coming down the road.
Imeralda squatted down next to them and whispered, “A slave caravan is coming; it’s small but they have a score of guards. We need to back up before they get here.”
“We have good cover here,” he whispered back, “let’s check them out as they pass. They are probably going to stop at Stallion’s Perch.” After much debate between the three of them Stallion’s Perch was their destination, a small keep that was known to breed Dire horses for the Immortal Guard.
“We can’t,” responded Imeralda with a whisper. “They are traveling with a patrol of Immortal guards. I think there are only four, but scout patrols often have a warrior with a minor sigil of enhanced senses. He might spot us.” As she spoke Rodregas noticed that Imeralda had a strange expression on her face, she was scared, but also seemed sad.
“What kind of slaves do they have?” Rodregas asked in a gentle voice.
Her body jerked more directly toward him, surprise covering her sad expression for a second. “Mixed, of course, human, AElfin. But, Rodregas, they have Forest and Earth Nymphs and several are children. I was raised among AElfin, but these are my people. I wish we could do something.“
Rodregas nodded his understanding and said, “I wish we could, but the three of us against a score, the chances of our success is far smaller than the chances of our death.” He stated in the ‘matter of fact’ sergeant voice that he knew people would follow.
Rodregas stood up and started to turn, but while Doi’van stood he faced the road and he said, “I have been on this road before, though I did not know then that it was called ‘The Princess Road.’ To me it was a road of sorrow.” Doi’van was using that flat voice that he used when stating facts. “Rodregas, you said our odds are bad, but how long shall we wait for the odds to be good?”
Doi’van’s voice dropped the flat tone and started to sound like rocks groaning deep in the earth, as if a great earthquake was coming, “You believe that a god of the Celestials is behind your survival and that this god wants to see us fight the Immortalists. I spent two years of my life in the Menagerie, I swore to myself that given a chance I would see no others be enslaved by the Lord Taiga.”
Doi’van continued speaking with the same tone as if the earth shook, “I know these caravans. The guards will be mostly badly trained human scum armed in leather and with weapons of simple steel. The Immortalist scouts are another matter. They will be highly trained but still the lowest of the Immortal Guards, mostly with just one or two of the lesser sigils such as strength or one that gives him enhanced senses. Against the three of us, a Forest Nymph with a powerful Black Yew bow and a Hellborn Prince of the Orqui and a warrior empowered with a Celestial Lion, are the odds truly that bad?”
Rodregas stood still, surprised by Doi’van’s words. In truth he did not know how good or bad their odds were. He knew they were not good, but his mind did not spin with the odds. He simply focused on the rightness of Doi’van’s words. Trying to attack an armed keep probably had far worse odds, and for what? So that they could steal horses; so that they could better their odds to escape a future fight? Here, if they succeeded, the three would not be stealing horses, they would be freeing people from slavery.
Rodregas looked into Doi’van’s eyes. He was resolute. Rodregas felt humbled at the man’s bravery, at his passion, at his strength. Rodregas knew there was no such thing as a hero, simply people that sometimes choose to do the right thing when it was a hard choice. There was no question for Doi’van, he simply stood quiet and ready. He knew what the right thing was, and he therefore took the right action. Rodregas was not Doi’van’s equal in spirit, but he knew that though he would likely die that he could not turn away from the Hellborn’s example.
Rodregas then turned to Imeralda, her eyes told a different story. She both wanted to run fast and far and she wanted to try to free the Nymphs. Simply stated, she was scared. She was young, barely more than a girl, and not a trained warrior. She was also much more fragile than either Doi’van or Rodregas; a blow that would only stun the two of them would shatter her.
Her incredible magic power would do her little good in a stand up battle. For all of that she gave a nod; she was willing to follow his lead. If he wanted to attack, she would follow them. How could someone so young and inexperienced be so brave? How could he not honor such bravery?
Rodregas looked into Imeralda’s eyes. She had been watching him. There was no need for words, no argument. The decision was made, they only need direction.
Any hope for success laid in playing to their strength. Rodregas said, ”Doi’van, you stay here and use the bow. You start from the middle of the caravan as soon as you feel comfortable, and focus on the slavers. If you get a free shot at an Immortal Guard, take it, but we need to reduce the numbers against us.”
“Imeralda, you need to stay away from the close-in fighting. Get as far back as you can and still be able to see and shoot into the road. You will focus on the front of the caravan and also focus on the regular slavers. Don’t start shooting until Doi’van does, hold steady until they get close and then use your Forest Nymph skills to fade back into the trees well away from the fighting.”
Then he said very carefully, so she would understand, “Don’t get yourself killed. But if you can stop and turn, take a few more shots. If they again turn and charge, you run and don’t stop running. Forget the horses; you will be much harder to track without them.”
He was about to ask Imeralda how long until they would arrive, when Rodregas started to hear noises from up the road. The party carrying the captives had arrived.
Rodregas held a finger to his lips and waved Imeralda deeper into the trees. With any luck she would be safe; it was hard to catch a Forest Nymph who was trying not to be found in the trees. Doi’van stepped partly out of the shrubs and got behind a tree to give him cover against re
turn fire.
There was a good-size tree not far in front of the two of them. Rodregas put his back to it and drew his two short swords and then did the most difficult thing he could do in this situation. He looked at Doi’van and not at the caravan. There was no need for both of them to be peeking around the trees at the caravan, though he desperately wanted to get a good look at the caravan to establish their odds.
The dice had been rolled. Rodregas had been learning to trust Doi’van and knew his life was now in Doi’van hands. If Imeralda had missed something critical and they should not attack, it was for Doi’van to catch.
Rodregas watched Doi’van, watched for him to raise the bow and start the fight. When the guards charged in to stop the shooting, then it would be his turn to strike. Rodregas would have to take on as many of the slavers and guards as possible. It would do little good to get caught up in a one-on-one battle; the odds were too many against them. He had to use his new strength and speed and go after multiple targets.
Rodregas focused on his breathing, he needed his body ready. He rested his body against the tree, trying not to tense up, and breathed deep and slow. Quicker than he thought, Doi’van’s black bow came up and he started to shoot. The Black Yew bows were an incredible advantage, they had been the pride of Raven Keep and were among the most dangerous and rare weapons that the Nymphs used to protect themselves.
Those bows had primarily been ornamental trophies for Ravenhurr; Rodregas thought that they symbolized a previous victory. Only a few of the guards would have had the power to use them and Ravenhurr kept guards with even small power away from the keep.
Against the leather armor of the slavers there would be no defense, even if they had shields; the arrows would likely blast through anything they had. Of course, against the Immortalist guards it was a different matter; their armor would stop the arrows. And, of course, their weapons would be equally effective against his armor, going through it like butter and into his flesh if he was not fast enough.
Depending on their sigils, they were likely to be either faster or stronger or both. But Rodregas’ short swords would not cut their armor. It put them at an extreme disadvantage. As the arrows flew over his head, he became aware of the other disadvantage of bows. They were dealing with a limited supply of arrows; once the arrows where all shot, they lost their main advantage.
Rodregas heard the noise of the first soldier to rush from the road; he went low and swung hard. Rodregas hit knee high and the man trying to run by went flying head first into the dirt. Rodregas knew from the feel of the blow that his sword had hit armor and bounced off. It was an Immortal Guard. Doi’van shot another arrow almost straight down into the back of the neck of the downed guard. The man thrashed once and then laid still.
The second body flew by in a blur. With such swiftness, Rodregas reasoned, he must have a sigil of speed. He headed right for Doi’van and was behind Rodregas before he could do anything. Doi’van must have seen him coming from his position and he dropped his bow and pulled his great sword.
The guard must have been thinking “Forest Nymph” due to the nature of the archery attack from the forest because he was unprepared for the strength of the blow. Like the one Rodregas had hit, the sword failed to cut armor. The guard, with the speed of his sigil, blocked it. But he blocked it sword to sword instead of using the momentum and speed to simply guide the sword away from his body.
The resulting blow had an unpleasant sound and cut right through Doi’van’s sword. Unfortunately for the guard, Doi’van stepped forward as he swung and jammed the lower half of the sword into his opponent’s chest. The guard flew into the bushes with a sickening crunching sound.
Rodregas next heard the sound of another of the enemy and spun into the sound using all his speed and strength, hoping to take a guard with either advantage. His target proved to be a slaver. He had a ragged beard and held a small battle axe.
Rodregas’ sword blow was too fast for the guard to block and had the strength to stun a guard wearing regulation armor. His sword cleaved the guard in half, and a gout of blood and gore splattered him. Rodregas pulled his sword free and spun away from the mess.
As he came to rest the sound of arrows was quiet, part of his mind knew that Imeralda was backing deeper into the forest. As he cleared the mess he had made of the last slaver, Rodregas came face to face with an Immortal Guard. Behind him were two more slavers.
The Immortal Guard wore the classic half plate of regulation Immortal Guard armor: A full suit of Mithril chain covered with a breastplate and leg guards and vambraces for the forearms. His head was covered with a half helm. His Mithril was shining in the sun. His breast plate was solid dark Night Bronze.
The middle of his breastplate had the symbol of the Immortalists, an eagle soaring up into the clouds. In his left hand was the regulation one handed long sword of the guard. In his right he held a small round shield. The shield did not give much coverage against bows and arrows, but was light and great for blocking hand-to-hand attacks.
Rodregas swung his short swords in slow circular motions and slowly backed up. The two slavers behind the guard apparently had been impressed with the violence so far and stayed in the safety behind the guard instead of separating to each side of him.
One of the slavers was human, the other a small Orqui or maybe a half breed. The human held a long sword, the Orqui a mace. Rodregas tried to think of a trick, but nothing came to mind. “I have to strike quickly before the odds get even worse. When nothing tricky comes to mind, work on the basics,” Rodregas thought.
He stepped in closer and attacked, swinging one sword in a slashing forward swing and following up with a backhanded half slash that flowed into a half block. Neither was meant to do anything but feel this opponent out.
The guard swung to try to meet his sword with his own instead of going after him. His sword lacked the shine of the “true silver” of Mithril. Instead it had the cast of blue steel, an enchanted steel / Mithril alloy. It was as strong as Mithril, but had more weight to it and held a better edge.
Rodregas backed up, not wanting to see the results of his sword matched against a blue steel sword, as it would likely result in his short sword becoming shorter.
Rodregas then stepped forward, he had to be careful though, he was a good foot taller than his opponent. The guard’s long sword gave him better reach. Rodregas swung at him and retreated. The two shared several blows. The third time that he retreated after taking a blow, the guard went for the kill.
The guard extended his whole body out in a lunge, thrusting his long sword out to its full length. The guard saw Rodregas’ braided leather armor and steel sword and thrust with the point. The lunge was perfect, the guard went for dead center, and even though Rodregas had been waiting for a similar move, the thrust almost caught him off guard. The guard had only one problem, one that he could not have anticipated.
Rodregas had been taking easy swings, not revealing his true speed. Once the guard committed, Rodregas brought both of his swords down and met the lunging blade. Rodregas could not meet his sword edge to edge, but it was thrusting out and he caught it and pushed it down and to the left. At the same time he moved his body to the side and in close.
Rodregas then dropped his right sword as he kept his left engaged, pushing the blue steel sword away. Rodregas moved in and thrust out with his open hand with a speed the guard simply could not match nor have expected. Rodregas had the guard’s throat in his grasp before his opponent knew what was happening.
The guard was not a big man and with his celestial strength Rodregas simply picked him up and squeezed. Rodregas felt the guard’s neck give under his grip. Before the slavers could react, Rodregas went from lifting him up to driving him down into the ground. Adrenaline was surging and suddenly Rodregas had a bloody mess in his hand. The guard was very dead.
Rodregas let go of the broken neck and stood quickly, trying to clear himself of the gore.
Both slavers looked shocked at what had happened and Rodregas moved quickly to take advantage of their surprise.
He went to the right and slammed his remaining sword into the Orqui. The slaver grunted with pain and surprise at his quick change of targets. Rodregas’ short sword caught him in the shoulder. The guard half fell and half stumbled away to safety.
Rodregas turned to the final slaver and saw fear in his eyes. Then Rodregas looked around and saw that he was no longer facing just one remaining opponent, but now faced four including another Immortal Guard and three more slavers. He had hoped they could pick off enough with the Black Yew bows to keep odds like this against them. Rodregas glanced to the ground hoping to see the previous guard’s blue steel long sword. It would do a lot to give him at least a chance against these odds, but it was nowhere to be seen.
The dead guard’s small shield, though, was near his feet. Rodregas quickly grabbed it as he made some room and switched his short sword to his right and the shield to his left.
This time they spread out and started to circle. Rodregas took a chance before they got too close and glanced over at Doi’van. In one of those weird moments that happen in battle, he saw the path between them was open. He was also backing up, surrounded by three more foes. “At least they are all slavers.” Rodregas thought.
Rodregas scooted back and said, “Back to back.” Doi’van gave a grunt of acknowledgement, and they faced in opposite directions. They were quickly surrounded. Another final Immortal Guard stepped into the circle, increasing the odds against them. Both had long swords and small shields and were dressed in the Mithril and Night Bronze half plate of the regular guard. The four slavers had mismatched armor; two had short swords and there was one each with an axe and a mace.
The men circled them, but did not seem eager to move in. During the pause Doi’van spoke in a low growl, “All this, and can you believe there is not a decent sized Immortal Guard in the lot. When we finish with them I will never fit in that armor.”
Rodregas smiled at the disgust in the Hellborn’s tone and the confidence that it implied. “True,” Rodregas replied, “but it is pretty. And I would love to be facing them with one of those blue steel swords.”
“Now don’t go lowering your standards, blue steel and night bronze? Good enough for the common soldier, but I fancy something a little more distinctive.”
Rodregas was about to ask him what he had in mind when they found out why they had been waiting; two more slavers came up with drawn bows. They were going to take them from a safe distance. Doi’van and he needed no words; they both knew only instant action gave them a chance.
Rodregas would like to have tried to take on one of the Immortal Guards, but he had already noticed that the slaver with the mace was a little too close and a little too far away from his nearest companion. He was a skinny man with dirty hair and seemed to be having trouble holding his heavy weapon.
Rodregas stepped in close and the slaver swung the mace with surprising force, but he met it with the shield and knocked it aside. Rodregas moved with simply too much speed to be blocked. He slid the short sword into the slaver’s stomach and gutted him in a quick and vicious move.
Doi’van immediately launched himself at the next slaver, and followed suit, slamming his opponent’s sword away and gutting him before he had a chance to move. Rodregas then went for the nearest Immortal Guard. Once again he followed up with the same move, stepping forward and slamming his shield forward to either knock his opponent’s weapon or knock the guard himself down.
Unfortunately, when Rodregas hit this guard he matched his every move for move. The guard responded, slamming shield against shield. Rodregas had gotten too comfortable with his opponents not being able to match his strength. This guard did. The Immortal Guard had already launched himself forward and Rodregas’ own speed worked against him. As Rodregas’ short sword hit nothing but air, he felt the sharp agony of the guard’s blade piercing his thigh.
Rodregas used his speed to throw himself back. But as he did, he felt another sharp cut hit his upper arm. The other men were moving in now that he was off balance.
Rodregas twisted as he fell and grabbed one of the slavers and brought him down. With a quick stab into his groin, Rodregas took the slaver out of commission. Rodregas rolled off his squirming body and threw himself up to a standing position. He almost immediately went down again as his wounded thigh buckled under him. Rodregas saw the Immortal Guard who had stabbed him, a stocky man with large arms. He was coming in carefully, shield up, sword in position. Rodregas made up his mind not to underestimate him despite being severely wounded.
Rodregas struggled back up and spread his feet wide for balance and locked his legs straight to try to keep them from buckling under him. He felt cold and knew he was losing blood fast. Rodregas knew that this was probably it. They had gambled and lost, there were just too many of them. But he did not want to die without taking out the Immortal Guards first.
If he killed the slavers and the guards, there was a good chance that the slaves could escape. If Rodregas and his group died without taking the slavers and guards out, then they would have died in vain. Rodregas hoped Imeralda would get away.
His shoulder jerked to the left, and he guessed that he had been hit by an arrow. Rodregas threw himself toward the last guard. He blocked the sword blow with his borrowed shield but did not have the angle to avoid a direct impact. The sword sliced through the shield and Rodregas jerked his arm back fearing that he would lose it.
Rodregas managed to get in close and, abandoning his useless short sword, grabbed his opponent’s shield and pulled him in. The guard tried to shrug him off, his bearded face looked afraid. His eyes, a light blue, stared at Rodregas with revulsion. He was probably wondering how Rodregas could be strong enough to take on an Immortal Guard.
Rodregas knew from the guard’s fear that he had him, he was not thinking clearly. Rodregas growled at him, letting him feel his anger and rage at taking slaves to be used by the Immortalists. Rodregas had seen what would happen to them. He had suffered for years with a subtle kind of inner rot at letting the evil continue. In all the ways that mattered Rodregas knew he was no better than this man, he had spent most of his life as a slaver.
Rodregas had no moral grounds on which to kill these men, but inside of him there was no mercy. He had crossed a line and could no longer live with the evil. Rodregas let go of the guard’s shield. He did not have the angle to grab his opponent’s throat. Instead he had to grab the man’s lower face which was exposed by the half helm, and then he squeezed.
Rodregas felt the guard’s face give way to his rage and unnatural strength. For a moment the guard struggled to escape his hold, but Rodregas pulled him closer with one hand and with the other ripped his opponent’s face away.
Rodregas felt a stab in his back as he took either an arrow or a sword. He was groggy with pain, and both weak and filled with rage. The guard in his hands was thrashing and spasming in unspeakable pain. As the guard collapsed to the ground, Rodregas fell with him. He tried to once more roll to the side, struggling away from a potential final stroke.
Rodregas’ face was covered in gore and blood. It was hard for him to see. He struggled back up, but fell, then Rodregas felt a presence to his right. It was too small to be Doi’van and Rodregas staggered over reaching for him, determined to take one final slaver with him.
His wounded leg buckled again, and Rodregas tried to reach for the ground to slow his fall, but something was wrong with his arm and it did not move. For a split second he saw the ground coming up to hit him in the face. And then... darkness.
