***
There is nothing to do but stand and fight. The king’s guard turns to face the most immediate threat, the attack from the rear. The master-at-arms shouts commands, and the guard forms phalanxes to meet the charge. As the attackers close on each phalanx, something unexpected happens. The squad leaders order, “Spears to the right.” In one coordinated movement, the guardsmen raise their shields to block the charge and at the same time thrust their spears, not straight ahead, but into the flank of the man who has engaged their comrade to their right.
The tactic proves devastating. Most men are without armor and totally unprepared for the thrust. Half fall on first contact. The squad leaders then shout a second command, and the goblins break into pairs and launched coordinated attacks on the men who remain standing. The first goblin strikes, forcing his opponent to raise his sword to parry the blow. The second goblin slips under the defender’s guard and drives his spear into his unprotected side. In less than a minute, the threat from the rear is eliminated. Few attackers escape the carnage.
Trak turns his attention back to the meadow. The men are closing rapidly, but the two mounted cavalrymen who lead the charge are far in front and will arrive in seconds. The master-at-arms sees the threat and orders his guard to move in front of the king. Trak realizes the charging warhorses will reach the king first. He races in front of the king, points his spear at the chest of the lead horse and jams the butt into the ground. He leaps to the side as the horse burst through the trees, impales itself on the spear and, in a violent convulsion, throws its rider. The rider falls stunned at the king’s feet. The king draws his sword and buries the blade into the fallen rider’s neck while his son stands frozen by his side.
The second charging rider is forced to change course at the last moment to avoid hitting the dying horse that is still braying and thrashing on the ground in front of the king. As he maneuvers his horse and closes the remaining distance to strike, Trak throws himself at the king, knocking both of them to the ground. He looks up a second later to see a volley of spears flying overhead. The attacker and his horse go down heavily. Trak jumps to his feet and draws his Dragonfire sword. He towers over the king as the attacking men stampede toward him.
The killing of the horsemen is witness by both men and goblins as they race to where the king stands. They expected to see the goblin king trampled by the charging warhorse. They were startled when the largest goblin anyone has ever seen appears wearing armor and a skull-helm and brings down a warhorse with a single spear thrust. They then watch the goblin shield the king from the second attacker. The moment is a turning point in the battle. It rallies the goblin forces and sobers the charging men.
Before King Red’s men reach the edge of the forest, Duke Amin’s soldiers begin arriving. Trak recognizes Lord Farg in the front as he nimbly strikes down the first man he encounters. The king’s palace guard charges out of the forest at the same instant. King Red’s infantry is strung out over a great distance, giving the goblins an initial advantage in numbers. The king’s guard and Amin’s soldiers overwhelm the front ranks of attackers; those in the rear think better of their uncoordinated assault and withdraw as the goblin forces melt back into the forest.
***
It is then that Trak allows himself to hear the screams of the injured men and goblins lying on the battlefield. He stands listless, not noticing others who are also in various stages of shock. Lord Farg, whose right arm is soaked in blood—none of it his, directs the more functional soldiers to return to the battlefield and recover the wounded. Both sides respect a temporary truce while the wounded are carried off. Trak looks at the horse he has killed and remembers how it nearly trampled him. He stares at the man who fell at the king’s feet. It is the first time Trak has seen a man up close. He recognizes parts of himself in the human’s face and body. He remembers the rage that possessed the king as he thrust his sword into the man’s neck. Trak turns and forces himself to trail behind the royal guard as they escort the king back to his camp.
The king’s guard suffered few losses, and the mood in their camp is celebratory. Each soldier is recounting his own brush with death and boasting of his skill in battle. Trak goes to his tent and washes. Although he hasn’t gotten bloody in the fight, he is drenched in nervous perspiration. He seeks out Krage and finds him in Duke Amin’s camp dressing the wounds of the injured that lie scattered on the ground. “There you are,” he says. “I need your help.” Krage points to the handcart that holds the herbs Trak collected. “Brew me something to stop the bleeding and ease pain.” When that is done, Krage points to a soldier who is lying close by. His left forearm is shattered and the ragged bone protrudes from a bloody wound. “Set the break and splint the arm.”
Trak knows to clean the wound and remove the dirt before he attempts to align the bones. Trak is relieved when the soldier passes out from the pain; it makes his job easier. Trak packs the wound with a plaster of lard and curds, laced with a leafy, green wart called Tutsan to retard the festering.
Krage takes one look and is satisfied. He says, “Clean the wound of the fellow over there who took a cut to his right flank. I will examine him when you are done.”
Trak does not blanch at the sight of blood, but he grows pale when he examines the soldier and sees that his liver is cut nearly in half. Trak knows of no art that can heal such a horrific injury. He turns to Krage and announces, “This one’s injuries are mortal.”
Krage glances at Trak and says, “Give him a strong dose of meadow wart to ease his passing and move to the next soldier. Trak pours the painkiller gently into the goblin’s mouth and folds a piece of cloth over the wound. He moves to the next casualty, whose jaw was fractured when a sword slashed through the right side of his face. “How do I set a broken jaw?” he asks Krage.
Krage looks at him wearily and utters, “Improvise.”
Trak looks around and found a bronze dagger that has a thin silver wire wrapped around the tang to form the handgrip. Trak unwinds the wire and breaks off a short length. He crams the wire into the spaces between the two teeth on either side of the break and twists the ends to bring the two parts firmly together. He breaks off four more wire segments and scrapes each wire against a stone to sharpen its tip before jabbing the wires through the skin flaps and pulling the cheek together. Trak marvels at the soldier’s tolerance for pain.
Trak loses count of the number of wounded he tends. Most are too hurt to even notice who is treating them, but one soldier, whose scalp has been sliced open, turns away when Trak kneels down to examine his wound. He spits, “Get away from me! I’ve smelled all the human stink I care to.” Trak will remember this soldier long after he has forgotten the others.
Lord Farg walks by and watches Trak use his silver wire to close a gash in a goblin’s abdomen. The soldier is lucky. His intestines have not been perforated. If he can survive the festering that will follow, he has a chance. “You did good today, Chicken,” Farg says, and after a moment’s pause in which he inspects Trak’s handiwork, adds, “You do know there is a difference between mending a wound and repairing a pot?”
It is dark when Trak follows Krage back to the king’s camp. “Thank you,” says Krage as the Thaumaturgist enters his tent and falls asleep, his hands and clothes still caked in blood.
Trak closes his fists and feels the sticky, cracking blood between his fingers. He finds some water and begins to wash. Hogarth, the master-at-arms, approaches him and says, “The king will probably never thank you, but ‘e knows you saved ‘is life.”
“I expect no thanks from the king, but I thank you for saving mine,” says Trak, remembering how the royal guard protected the king.
“Yes. It is ironic that you were saved by a trick of your own invention,” replies the master. “I for one thank you for sharing it with me. My shame would be unbearable if I failed in my duty to protect the king. Without your new tactics, it would have cost me half the royal guard to drive off the attackers. It is too bad the enemy will
soon adapt, and we will have to think of something else.”
“So many have died needlessly and many more will die from their injuries or be maimed for life,” reflects Trak.
“It is always so in war. Take consolation in knowing that the suffering of our people would have been greater if we had not stopped the enemy at our border.”
“Our people,” Trak repeats to himself. How are goblins any more his people than men? Today, Trak saw a man for the first time. He didn’t seem more brutish than a goblin. To Trak, the soldiers on both sides were nothing more than pawns in a senseless political game.
***
Across the river, King Red’s army sets up camp from what they salvage from the battlefield. The mood is somber. The soldiers believe they won the day, but at a great cost. They acknowledge that the goblins took them by surprise, but they rallied and decisively drove off the attackers. They don’t understand why the generals so grossly underestimated the strength of the goblin force or how the goblins obtained iron weapons. There is much talk of the huge skull-headed goblin that suddenly appeared on the battlefield and brought down a charging warhorse with a single blow. Already, Trak’s defense of the king is being embellished and becoming the stuff of legend.
King Red recognized Duke Amin on the battlefield and realizes that his border attack was anticipated; the goblins were waiting for him. As he feared, they were equipped with iron weapons and developed new fighting techniques for which his troops were ill prepared. Still, the attack achieved its main objective. Duke Amin has been drawn off his island and the Isle of Uisgebeatha is now vulnerable.
The King sends messengers to the coast with orders to begin a naval assault on the island. He will capture the duke’s castle and destroy the island’s iron smelters. It gives him pleasure to think of Duke Amin and his army stranded on the mainland without a home to return to. On the whole, his investment of resources has paid off. Had King Red recognized Krage standing at the goblin king’s side, he would have accepted even greater casualties to see the sorcerer killed.
The next morning, King Red’s army vacates the border, and the goblins are able to retrieve their dead. Two hundred of Lord Lizardthroat’s troops have been killed and fifty of the Duke’s force of eight hundred. Another thirty will succumb to their wounds and never see home. The dead include three recruits that Trak trained with. The dead humans have already been removed, but Lord Lizardthroat estimates that three hundred of Red’s twelve hundred men were killed on the battlefield, including the hundred massacred by the king’s guard at the conclusion of the battle. The total is exaggerated but only modestly. More than enough was accomplished to please the goblin king; he blocked a full-scale invasion and could take credit for preventing the genocide that would have followed. He fought in the battle and bloodied his sword. Perhaps he would have killed more if Krage’s apprentice hadn’t shoved him out of the fight.
After another week of monitoring the border, supplies are depleted. King Giforing has already left with his guard for the capital. Duke Amin is preparing to withdraw and leave the defense of the border to Lord Lizardthroat when word is received the Isle of Uisgebeatha has been invaded from the sea.
The giant skull-headed goblin guards the Ard Ri.
Chapter 12
Long life is not given just because you ask for it.
Goblin Proverb
Isle of Uisgebeatha
Baron Teiber sails up the coast with six warships bearing three hundred soldiers. The warships are small, crescent-shaped galleys equipped with one mast and twenty pairs of rowers. An iron-tipped ram projects from the bow. The lead ship drops anchor a league from the Isle of Uisgebeatha’s only dock and lowers small boats into the water. Under the cover of dense fog, twenty raiders creep onto the island and kill the dock’s five defenders before they can sound an alarm. In the fog the raiders quickly move up the road toward the castle, ignoring the farms and huts they pass along the way. They find the castle gate locked. It is to the defenders’ credit they locked the yett each evening at sunset. Men with ropes attempt to scale the battlements, but their noise alerts the goblin guards who rush to the wall and begin throwing rocks down on the men below. The men are forced to retreat to a safe distance and await the arrival of the baron’s main force.
Baelock is asleep in his hut when awakened by shouts coming from the castle. From the village, he can see that humans are attacking the outer wall, attempting to scale the front gate. The goblin defenders in the battlements above are heaving rocks on the men below. He is glad he took Krage’s advice and buried his raw steel and newly minted swords. Villagers are emerging from their huts and hurrying toward the forest, carrying whatever food and clothing they can grab. Baelock collects the swords he is currently fashioning and follows the fleeing villagers.
***
Two hours later, the baron’s entire three hundred-man assault force assembles in front of the castle. He sends out patrols to scour the island for enemy soldiers and to collect food supplies. Word of the invasion has already reached the outlying villages, farms and manor houses; the patrols find little to scavenge. The baron positions a hundred men at the dock to prevent any goblin ship from landing and mounting a counterattack. Provisions are off-loaded and duty rosters established. Baron Teiber intends to billet his troops in the abandoned village. When the men complain that the hovels stink of goblin and the ceilings are too low to stand comfortably, he allows them to set up their small tents. A ship is sent back to the mainland with word of the successful taking of the island and the destruction of the iron smelters.
No iron ingots or weapons are found. The baron believes the weapons are hidden inside the castle. Within hours, all routine precautions have been taken and the siege of the castle has begun. The invaders probe the castle for weaknesses that would circumvent the need for a lengthy siege.
Duke Amin’s niece, twenty soldiers and as many servants are locked inside the castle. The defenders consider their predicament. They could surrender the castle and their lives might be spared, or they could resist and die if their defense fails. Some want to surrender, but the majority argue that they might be killed anyway and giving up the castle means surrendering the duke’s niece to an uncertain fate. They have sufficient supplies to hold out for months; surely the duke will rescue them before they starve. They are safe as long as the invaders don’t find a way to take the castle by force or stealth. Neafon Damnfury, who was left in command, listens to all the arguments and decides for the present to defend. The duke’s niece, Dorla, regrets her decision to remain in the castle when her uncle departed for the mainland. The duke wanted his niece to take refuge in the capital, but she had stubbornly refused because it might bring her in contact with her pimpled-faced betrothed.
The castle’s perimeter is too long to continuously monitor every possible point of assault with just twenty soldiers. The first serious attempt to scale the walls comes the next night. Two hundred men attack the front of the castle; they throw ladders against the main gate and endeavor to reach the battlements. While the goblin defenders concentrate on dodging arrows and toppling ladders, two men with grappling hooks climb the north wall and drop into the outer courtyard. As they struggle to raise the crossbar on the main gate, bolters on the walls spot the infiltrators and release a barrage of arrows. The castle holds, but it is clear that twenty defenders are too few and repeated attempts to breach the outer wall will eventually succeed.
Neafon orders the outer wall abandoned and the defenders to retreat inside the inner gate. High walls that cannot be easily scaled with ladders surround the keep. Five men can effectively monitor the smaller perimeter. Neafon predicts the next attack will be directed against either the inner gate or the broch. He orders cauldrons of hot oil readied for use against anyone attempting to enter the castle at either weak point. The seaward side of the castle he ignores; the cliff face is considered unsalable.
On the night of the invasion, two thousand islanders fled into the forest, too large a numb
er to remain hidden for long. After two days of hiding, those who live farthest from the castle decide to return to their homes and take their chances. Baelock and about two hundred others remain and begin constructing a series of small camps. If one camp is discovered, they would have somewhere else to flee. Baelock seeks out Meg, and she helps the refugees gather food from the forest. They hope the invaders will be preoccupied with laying siege to the castle and will leave them alone.
The next morning, men attack the broch’s front door with axes. The door faces away from the inner wall of the castle and is hidden from view from the battlements. In a few minutes the attackers chop through the broch’s outer door. As they begin demolishing the inner door, the defenders pour hot oil through the murder holes, driving the besiegers out of the broch’s entrance.
The attackers counter by throwing dried wood into the passage and setting the wood and oil on fire. Water is poured through the murder-holes, but it is too late; the fire is intense. The attackers only have to wait for the flames to cool, and they can walk through the charred inner door of the broch. Neafon orders the back door of the broch leading to the inner courtyard barricaded. He seals four soldiers inside the broch’s circular staircase to prevent the attackers from reaching the battlements. If the roof of the broch is taken, the enemy would have the high ground; bowmen would be able to fire arrows into the castle’s inner courtyard and at the defenders on the walls.
The defenders don’t have long to prepare. The fire has not yet cooled when men scramble across the hot embers and knock down the remains of the inner door. They enter the broch and attempt to climb the staircase. The goblin defenders employ spears to keep the attackers from ascending and use the curve in the staircase to advantage. They can lunge with their right hand while the attackers climbing the stairs from below are forced by the curve of the wall to fight with their left. The goblins keep them at bay until the men build an oversized shield that fills the stairway and begin pushing their way up the stairs. The defenders batter the shield, but they cannot reach behind the shield and strike the attackers. The goblins are not heavy enough to counter the weight of the men pushing the shield. They are steadily driven back until the attackers pour out of the stairway onto the roof of the broch. The goblins stationed on the castle walls watch as the goblins are slaughtered and their bodies thrown into the courtyard below.
Forging the Half-Goblin Sorcerer Page 15
