by RG Long
And she found an unusual supporter in Felicia. It seemed to be in her nature to be able to direct people to do what she wanted them to.
"You there!" she called to a man who had just leaned against a wall. "What do you think you're doing!? An army is at your doorstep! This is no time to rest! Get your tail to work!"
The man hurried off to help a group pushing a cart up to the castle.
She was quite effective.
Teresa walked the outer walls of Thoran with Felicia at her side. Urt was overseeing the armory, as he was a skilled smith and could sharpen any sword given to him. Mara was ensuring the women and children who would not be helping defend the castle were tucked safely into it and out of possible harm's way.
Her sergeants were busy carrying out her final preparation orders.
All the while the fire and smoke grew closer.
She rested against the wall and looked south.
Who knew what was coming to face her?
"The castle is ready," Felicia said with an air of accomplishment. "Though I'd rather fight from a ship than a stone wall."
Teresa sighed.
"I'd rather be commanded than lead this defense," she confessed. The words came from her mouth before she had time to think on them. But now they were said.
Felicia looked at her.
"You're the princess, right?" she asked her with an eyebrow raised.
"By birth," Teresa replied, shrugging her shoulders.
"Then be a damned good one," Felicia replied, as she rounded on her.
Teresa startled.
Very few spoke to her like this.
Felicia pointed a finger at her and gave her a stern look.
"You've got a city full of people who may live or die based on your command, your highness," she said scornfully. "Whether or not you believe you're the best leader these people have, you're all they got. Fate don't care what you think. It just deals you the cards. Now, what will you do with them?"
Below them, men, dwarves and elves rushed about to finalize the defenses of Thoran. Scurrying from one spot to another, they made the best attempt they could to secure the castle from whatever assault was coming their way.
And Teresa was their princess.
Their leader.
"Fine," she said resolutely. "You're right."
She looked at Felicia with a solid determination.
Though Teresa may never be the type of ruler her father was, that didn't matter. She was the one fate had placed here at this moment. It was up to her to protect her people.
And she would do it well.
"Get the soldiers to their stations," she ordered those below in a shout. Several saluted her and ran about getting the warriors to their positions.
She looked out over the forest below and the coming clouds.
"This is the hour fate has come to Thoran."
41: A Goblin's Reward
Blast those stupid goblins and their fire, Stinkrunt thought as he and his army ran north.
Once he had given the orders that they were to begin marching to war, all of the clans began to burn and hack away at anything they could.
The resulting forest fire was not a part of the master plan.
Not that there was much of a plan other than storm the castle and kill the people inside it.
Then again, the fire was making them arrive much sooner than Stinkrunt had thought possible.
I didn't want to be up at the front, he thought as he pushed aside a particularly slow goblin to get ahead.
Leading from the head wasn't a very goblin general thing to do.
But surviving, on the other hand, was one of Stinkrunt's specialties.
Up ahead, he began to make out the castle they planned to burn to the ground. It was an impressive sight, the biggest city Stinkrunt had ever laid eyes on.
And the tallest walls, too.
He stopped before he ran out into the open area before the castle walls. The trees still shielded him from view. A few foolish goblins ran ahead of him.
They were shot as soon as they were visible.
“HALT!” Stinkrunt called out as loud as he could.
Ten or so goblins heard him and stopped.
The rest stopped because the goblins in front of them kept dying.
Either way, the army came to a stop inside the forest.
“You! Arrahead! Figure out some way to get near the walls without dying! You! Greeneye! Get some goblins back behind us to stop that fire! I don't want to roast before we can even get inside the castle! Somebody else, you there!”
He pointed at a large looking goblin who was busy picking his nose.
“What's your name?” he asked. The goblin looked at Stinkrunt, but kept his finger where it was. He rethought his need to know the beast's name.
“It doesn't matter. Go see if any of our catapults survived the fire! And if they did, get them firing onto that castle!”
Stinkrunt had certainly come a long way from the sniveling doyen who wanted to impress his boss. He was in charge now.
At least he was in control of the goblins who cared to listen to him.
Arrahead came back to Stinkrunt with a group of goblins carrying large pieces of fallen trees.
"Get a couple of these things lashed together and they'll make a decent shield," Arrahead said.
Not bad, Stinkrunt thought.
"What are you waiting for? Get going!" He ordered the goblins around him.
Though at times they could be cowardly and brainless, the willingness of a goblin to cause bodily harm to their enemies was great. As such, they had a few moments of surprising ingenuity.
Arrahead had organized hundreds of goblins to begin crafting makeshift shields out of fallen and freshly cut trees. Some clever goblin even suggested using them as ladders once they got close enough. Stinkrunt watched Arrahead take the credit for the idea and smack around the one who suggested it until he forgot he had come up with it in the first place.
Reports were coming from the back of the line that the fire had been stopped. A large trench was dug and as many trees that could be were chopped down and sent forward, away from the flames.
So far, this was the best siege Stinkrunt ever organized.
He decided the first one didn't really count. That was more like practice.
This time he would have much more success than the first go-round.
There was no doubt in his mind about it.
AFTER A FEW HOURS OF preparation, Stinkrunt was getting bored.
"Can't we get this started?" He shouted as several goblins all around him either wielded their blades viciously or fought over who was going to carry the large wooden shields.
Arrahead looked up at him questioningly.
"You're the boss," he said as he pulled back an arrow onto his bow. "Don't you say when it's time to charge?"
Stinkrunt pondered the logic for a moment.
It made sense.
"The first goblin to bring me back the head of an elf, human, and a dwarf gets the castle named after him!" He shouted as menacingly as he could.
"Attack!"
With the roar, thousands of goblins began to charge towards the castle through the trees. It looked like the tree shields were working as long as the lazy goblins could carry the things, at least. Arrows rained down on them as these advanced. Some stupid goblins fell dead. The smart ones stayed under their soon to be ladders.
Stinkrunt stayed where he was. He sat on a stump that had been recently made into a throne for the leader of the goblin army: him.
Now was the time to act like a real goblin general and enjoy all of his hard work.
"Hey, you!" he shouted out at a little goblin who was just about to join the ranks of fighters. It looked up at Stinkrunt.
"Get me something to eat," he said as he watched the first wave hit the castle walls.
42: Into the Fire
The ship rocked and swayed along with the sea as it continued on its voyage north.
Blume sat with Jeremy, Abigail, and Rose as she attempted to retell them everything she had heard from Cory.
"So he's not a traitor? But he killed his friends and he's working with Androlion. I mean, he's a general. For the bad guy's army. That's a little hard to believe," Abigail said.
She nodded, partly because Blume agreed with Abigail. It was hard to believe that Cory was trying to subvert the entire Southern Republic and help Thoran. He was, after all, sailing a warship that Blume could already envision crashing into River Head and sending its soldiers running towards Castle Thoran.
She also agreed with Abigail because Cory had refused to give her back the necklace.
"It's not time," he had said. "If people see you with this, your life may be forfeit and everything could fall apart really quick."
He promised she would have it. Just not yet.
That didn't sit well with her at all.
"So how does he plan to exact his revenge on Androlion and lead a military like coup? Does he have other generals on his side? Are the men secretly serving him, rather than Androlion?
Blume shook her head.
"He didn't really go into detail about his plans," she said. "He just told us to trust him."
"Well I don't," Abigail said as a matter of fact. "I think the whole thing is a trick."
"But what would he gain in tricking you?" Rose asked.
The three turned to her. Blume raised an eyebrow at the normally quiet girl. She had hardly said as many words since they got on the ship.
"What do you mean?" Blume asked her.
Rose blushed. Her cheeks turned nearly as red as her hair.
"I mean," she stammered. "He shows you he has your necklace. He protects you and puts you on his boat. He even tells you he plans to lead a rebellion against Androlion, which you think would be a good thing. What does he get out of tricking you?"
Blume thought for a moment. Rose had a point. How could a general gain from deceiving three young Speakers?
The boat creaked and rocked as they sat and pondered her words. Their candle's tiny flame flickered in the darkness.
"Your necklace," Jeremy said after a few moments of silence.
"Yes, Jeremy," Blume replied. "Cory still has it."
He shook his head.
"No," he said. "I mean, he doesn't know how to use it. He's not a Speaker. He needs a Speaker to use the necklace. And he's got three on this ship."
"He's got more than that," Abigail countered. "I saw a whole group of them when we first got on. They're mixed in with the soldiers."
"That's accurate," Jeremy replied. "But what if he doesn't want them to know about what he's got? Maybe he's waiting for the right opportunity to get Blume to use the necklace?"
"And do what with it?" Blume asked.
He gave her a hard look.
"You told us it's not just a typical piece of Rimstone on a chain," he said as he leaned in close to her. "Maybe he wants to make sure you're right."
Blume thought for a moment.
Maybe there was something dubious Cory had in mind. Still.
"I think we should sleep on it for now," she said.
She was exhausted. And, since no one argued, she was sure they were as well.
Blume blew out the candle and went to her hammock.
For a moment, she began to worry if she would be queasy and unable to sleep tonight. Then a heavy drowsiness overtook her and her eyelids became so heavy she could hardly lift them.
As sleep began to sweep over her, she heard Rose say one last thing before drifting off.
"I trust him."
THE NEXT MORNING, THEY awoke in the normal fashion: a hard rapping on the door.
"Up!" came the command from just outside. "Get breakfast ready!"
Sluggishly, they all got out of their hammocks, put on their work clothes, and climbed up the stairs to their stations.
Blume's feet felt like lead. It was harder than normal to get moving this morning. Perhaps it was because it was the first night she had actually slept through the night. Perhaps, also, it had something to do with a dream she had.
A few pictures flashed in her mind.
Ealrin. Her necklace. Her brother.
Nothing made sense to her, however, when she tried to remember what the dream had been about.
She shook her head and busied herself setting out the breakfast dishes. The soldiers ate at long tables just under the main deck. It was difficult to navigate the cramped eating space. Wooden columns jutted up in odd places and none of the furniture was movable. All of it was fastened to the floor to prevent it from sliding around.
As she went about setting out the utensils and bowls, soldiers began to come in and sit at the tables and wait for their food to be set before them.
Knowing it would be some time before she was allowed to eat, Blume snuck a piece of bread into a pocket and hoped she'd have a moment to eat it soon. Her stomach was growling at her.
"You there!" a voice shouted.
Blume's hand had only just slipped the crust underneath her apron. She was sure she was about to be reprimanded for stealing the bread.
She looked around for the source of the voice, to see if it was really her being summoned.
A soldier was a few steps up the stairs that lead to the main deck.
He was pointing right at Blume.
"Up on deck!"
One of the men who was sitting right beside where she stood looked at her and smirked.
"You're in trouble, little lady," he said too sweetly. "Better run before I think of a reason to keep you here with me."
"Ugh," Blume huffed and walked off.
All this for a piece of bread?
The suns were coming up over the water, making it extremely bright on the top deck. Blume's eyes had to adjust for a several seconds before she could see what was going on.
Sailors were climbing the rigging of the boat, fixing ropes and adjusting sails and following orders.
The soldier who had summoned her had already walked to the helm of the ship and was beckoning her to climb the stairs after him.
As she made her way up the wooden stairs she looked left, to the west. Over the horizon she saw large pillars of black smoke covering the land. She could also make out the port of River Head.
And it appeared that they were sailing past it.
Blume hesitated at the stairs, until she heard a cough from just ahead of her.
Cory Greenwall sat at a table with a tablecloth, a fine breakfast sat out before him. He drank coffee from a dainty looking cup.
She made to bow to him, still wondering why she had been called here.
Then she froze.
Sitting with him was a man whose hair was perfectly combed. No piece of his uniform looked out of place. He dabbed at his mouth with a handkerchief.
"Is this the young lady you spoke of earlier?" Androlion asked Cory, locking eyes with Blume.
He nodded and smiled at Blume like introducing her to the general of the Merc army was nothing to be concerned about.
"The very same," Cory replied.
Androlion studied Blume for a moment.
"I hear you are a gifted Speaker," he said. "That you have studied at the school of magic in Thoran. I do believe you will see what is becoming of that castle if you look just beyond your shoulder."
Blume didn't move. She stared hard at the man who ordered her city to be burned to the ground and her friends to be killed by his armies.
Androlion smiled.
"I have need of a Speaker, Blume Dearcrest," he said. "You'll notice that we continue to sail north, instead of east to Thoran. Do you know where that will take us?"
She nodded.
The wind blew through her hair and she pushed it out from her face. Her hands were nearly frozen in fear, but she forced them to move normally. She refused to let him think she was afraid.
Androlion held his hand up and a soldier dressed in green and white came forward with a box.
O
ne that looked very familiar.
Blume took a moment to turn her eyes to Cory. He neither looked at her, nor acknowledged what was happening. Like they hadn't talked at all last night. Was Rose wrong? Did he betray them like he betrayed his brother, his friends and his country?
"I trust," Androlion said as he took the box and opened it for Blume to see its contents. "That you know how one might use this necklace to its fullest potential?"
The wind at their back continued to drive them north, not towards Thoran as Blume had originally thought. Then again, her thoughts on several things were changing very rapidly as she stood on the deck with Cory Greenwall and Androlion Fellgate.
Blume felt betrayed. Ice ran through her veins as she stared at Cory. Just a moment ago she thought she could trust him.
Now she knew better.
There was no trusting anyone who wore the hated colors of green and white.
No one.
She turned her gaze down to the necklace and gave a slight nod. That nod was not for Androlion's sake, though he thought it must have been.
He smiled and narrowed his eyes at her. Greed and pride filled his face.
"Good."
More exciting adventures
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The Story Continues
“Dragon of Ruyn”, book three in the Legends of Gilia series, will be available March 26th, 2018!
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Enjoy the journey,
RG Long
