Quarterstars Awakening

by David L. McDaniel

  Jaerick remained silent while he looked at Traelyn, the gronts, and his fellow elves betraying him and his father. All their eyes were on him, but when he looked to his own soldiers, they immediately looked to the floor and would not look him in the eye. “You all will be executed for your treason,” he blurted, knowing he did not have any say in the matter at this point, but had to say something.

  “A price we are willing to pay, my young prince, now call off the battle upstairs. Send the elven soldiers home and let the gronts finish this battle with the humans.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  Meztrae smiled. “For her life,” he said, pointing to Traelyn. “If not for her life, then for yours,” Meztrae nodded to one of the gronts who then opened the iron door.

  Outside Jaerick could see legions of armed gronts and goblins awaiting entrance to the rocky fortress. Their numbers were incredible. The forest was crawling with these ugly beings of ignorance and brutality. Jaerick now knew that the human-elf defensive coalition would not stand an attack from a force of this size. He felt the hope from within melt away, and knew very little could be done to change the imminent outcome.

  The gront then closed the iron door.

  “As you can see,” Meztrae began. “The battle is nearly won. What you decide now will only determine how great the loss will be to our people.”

  “It seems that you have this all planned out already. What would you have me do?”

  “You have the power to influence the king. We both know that he has only returned at your request, because of your love for this human.” Meztrae said, looking at Traelyn as if a putrid smell had just wafted from her being.” Tell the king to leave these humans alone. Let them fight their own fight and die their own deaths. It is that simple. That is all we ask. Do this, and she will not die. Do this, and the gronts will give us safe passage out of here, and then you and the king can punish us for our loyalty to the elven race, and we will submit to the punishment knowing our cause to be true.”

  “A promise is all that you ask.”

  “Your word, yes, because I know you have always been and will always be loyal to your word,” he said with a smile and a legitimate bow.

  “Traelyn, if I do this, will you come with me?”

  Traelyn, still bound by the vines, did not speak, but only looked to the ground. Jaerick knew then that the love for her father was stronger than her love for him and that she would not leave her father.

  “I cannot do as you ask Meztrae.”

  Meztrae, not blinking, took two steps toward the prince and punched him in the jaw again. “Are you that love struck with this ugly human that you would corrupt our elven people? I have no problem in letting her die. In fact, it will be easy. It is you, my prince, that would break my heart to see die in this corridor.”

  “Still, I cannot do as you ask, without the will of the one I love.”

  Meztrae stiffened. “You would love a human more than your people. You do not deserve to lead them.”

  Jaerick stood firm and stared deeper and harder into Meztrae’s eyes. Hate swelling in his chest, and helplessness filled his heart. He then looked to Traelyn and knew that the choice was easy for her to die for her father and what they believed in. Her resolve gave him strength to believe that he could also die for her love. Without thinking any further, because there was nothing more to think about, and nothing else to lose, in an act of desperation, he dove for Traelyn and the gront holding her captive. He slammed into the both of them with such a force that they all toppled sideways to the ground.

  As they fell to the ground, the dagger flew from the gronts’ hand, but not before slicing Traelyn from her throat to the bottom of her right ear. Blood squirted from her neck and onto Prince Jaerick and the gront. Traelyn screamed as she fell and then rolled off the gront realizing that she was cut. She covered the wound with her hand, and even though blood wetted her hand, she knew that she was not too seriously injured.

  As Jaerick landed, he saw Traelyn go down with him and knew he had only a few seconds to react to his surprise attack before he would be overtaken, so he drilled the gront with the back of his fist, crushing his nose and upper jaw. Jaerick then reached over its now unconscious body and grabbed the dagger, then moved to Traelyn and cut the ropes binding her feet.

  “Run!” he yelled to her as the bindings fell to the ground. Two gronts and three elves, seeing this attempt to escape, were quicker than Jaerick, and tackled him, pinning him down to the cold stone floor before he was able to make any ground.

  Traelyn stood up as they wrestled with Jaerick. Her hands still bound, she ran up the stairway and disappeared into the dark cavern hallways.

  “Chase her down!” Meztrae yelled to the elf not holding Jaerick down. The elf disappeared up the stairs, chasing after Traelyn. Meztrae then looked to Jaerick who was now being stood up by his captors.

  “Bring him here!” He commanded. Meztrae walked to meet them as they brought Jaerick to him. Meztrae did not stop until he was very close and punched him in the mouth. Blood drained from Jaerick’s split lip. “I will not deal with you anymore, son of a weak king! With the help of Kroejin, I will be the new king. You and your father are a disgrace to the name of Val Eahea.” Meztrae turned around. “Take him outside and let the gronts kill him!”

  At his command, Jaerick started yelling and squirming trying to break free of his captors’ grips. General Meztrae walked to the iron door, pulled the latch open, and was about to swing the door open when an arrow sunk into the side of his ribs. Stumbling, he grabbed his side and looked back to the stairs. There on the steps stood a dozen elven and human archers who had just let loose a second barrage of arrows. The elves holding Jaerick loosened their grip, and Jaerick taking notice, jerked himself free and ran to retrieve his sword from the grip of an elf that had been killed in the barrage of arrows.

  Meztrae, recovering his balance, found that now it was his turn for a final act of desperation. He stumbled over to the iron door to open it and escape. Once Jaerick had his sword, he ran to the safety of the elven archers.

  “Shoot them all!” He commanded. The archers loosed their volley as General Meztrae swung the iron door wide open. The arrows flew across the room with all of them finding their mark. The elves and gronts fell dead or wounded, except for Meztrae. Though an arrow pierced him in the back, he continued out the iron door and into the sun.

  The army of gronts waiting outside saw this as their cue to charge inside the fortress, and with a loud battle cry, they rushed toward the door. Meztrae saw the massive charge coming in and instantly realized his grave error, yelling in horror as the army of gronts trampled over him, crushing him as they began squeezing through the door.

  The battle inside lasted only a few minutes as the gronts tumbled two at a time through the bottleneck. The elven archers had easy aim at each one of the gronts, and picked off twenty gronts before they stopped coming through the door, having realized their disposition, and retreated into the woods.

  Prince Jaerick ran to the door and watched the gronts retreat. They scattered aimlessly into the woods, and as they did so, Jaerick looked down and noticed the bloody corpse of his father’s military advisor. The gronts had trampled, kicked, and stabbed him so severely that there were no recognizable features left to distinguish him between an elf, human, or gront.

  Jaerick closed the door, but as he did so, he noticed a large green skinned, misshapen figure coming out of the woods. He swung a massive spiked wooden club and howled in a terrible massive roar, exposing an overly large mouth with twisted teeth as he ran towards the opening. The retreating gronts ran in every direction except toward this lurking creature. A massive assembly of goblin warriors stood ready for battle behind their goblin lord. Jaerick quickly
shut the door and then faced his loyal soldiers and human allies. “We’d better get ready, Gralanxth is coming!”

  Jaerick paused, and then listened for any signs of the battle going on upstairs. “Is the battle over upstairs?” he asked when he could not hear any fighting going on.

  “Yes, the enemy forces above have been routed and executed,” said the soldier.

  Prince Jaerick straightened his composure and smiled. “Let’s regroup with the others, for the battle is far from over.”

  * * *

  Traelyn found her father in the council chambers. The elven king was tending to the human king’s wounds. Dar Drannon was lying on the table while Keiyann applied simple elven healing ointments. Dar Drannon was conscious, but groggy.

  “Father!” Traelyn shouted as she ran into the room and fell onto her fathers’ chest. “I’m ok, daughter. What about you?” he said as he touched Traelyn’s neck. The blood still trickled down her neck and over some already dried blood that was collecting under her chin.

  “I’m fine.”

  Keiyann walked over to Traelyn, grabbed her hand, and led her over to the table where he had his bandages and ointments then closed and dressed her wound.

  Jaerick stormed into the room and smiled at Traelyn, not knowing until just now that she had made it to safety.

  “Father, Meztrae betrayed us,” Jaerick announced as Keiyann finished bandaging Traelyn’s neck.

  “What happened?”

  “He showed the gronts the door, and let them in.”

  “But now they know of the door?” Dar Drannon croaked while sitting upright.

  “Yes.”

  “It’s all my fault.” Traelyn sighed. “I showed Jaerick the lower vault door.”

  “No, it is not.” Keiyann said abruptly. “No one is to blame but the elves. Your secret with Jaerick would’ve been safe, but one of my most trusted soldiers betrayed us all.”

  “They will be coming back then,” Dar Drannon said, stepping down from the table and reaching for his sword lying near.

  Keiyann looked at Jaerick, then at Dar Drannon. “It is time. Jaerick, find a horse and escape, take Traelyn with you.”

  “No!” Traelyn shouted. “You’re not taking me anywhere! I am not leaving!”

  “Yes, honey, you are,” Dar Drannon said as he approached his daughter, taking her hand in his.

  “I cannot leave you father,” she sobbed, tears welling up in her eyes. “Please don’t make me leave.”

  “You must. It is time for you to leave me here.”

  “How can I?”

  Dar Drannon pulled Traelyn close to him and held her for several minutes before whispering in her ear. “I love you more than anything in this world.”

  “Then let me stay,” she said, the tears rolling down her cheek. She fought, knowing somehow that there was no other option but to leave.

  “You have to go. You have your full life to live, and I cannot take the chances of you dying here today.”

  “What about you?”

  “I have to stay. The people are counting on me.”

  Dar Drannon gently pushed her away and held her at arm’s length. “Go, and go now. You can go with Jaerick through the south tunnel, take as many of our people as you can round up.”

  “We have to hurry to do this,” Jaerick responded.

  Dar Drannon looked at Jaerick. “Take as many of the horses in the stables as there are riders for.”

  Traelyn hugged her father and squeezed him tight, not wanting to let go. Jaerick stood behind her and put his hand on her shoulder. He waited a few more seconds before whispering to her. “Let’s go Traelyn.”

  She stepped back, still looking into her fathers’ red and watering eyes. He mouthed the words ‘I love you’ and raised his hand as a gesture for her to go.

  Two soldiers entered the room and announced that the goblin and gront armies were charging up the tunnels. Jaerick grabbed Traelyn by her hand and led her out of the room.

  “Daddy, I love you!” She screamed with outstretched arms as if she could pull him back to her. Jaerick left the room while ordering a human soldier and an elven soldier to find as many people as they could gather to come with them.

  Human and elven soldiers scrambled while Jaerick and Traelyn ran through the hall around the courtyard and down to the south tunnel, hoping to make their exit. When they reached the tunnel, they stopped and stared in horror. The entrance to the fortress that was normally secured by a wide iron door hung by only the top hinge and squealed as if it would soon break under the weight of the heavy door. It had been forced open and leaned upon its own weight on the hard ground.

  Jaerick and Traelyn waited while the soldiers came with fifty of the residents. Jaerick turned to face his loyal elven soldiers and motioned the ranking sergeant to take a squad to scout out their exit. The soldier dutifully did so. With his sword drawn and ready, he walked outside through the gate, bringing behind him his squad of ten elves.

  Jaerick looked around and could see nothing of the gronts or goblins that had obviously broken through already, but could hear the screams and shouts of the soldiers fighting behind them in various winding tunnels of the fortress. The screams were becoming louder and closer behind them, but they still could not see any of them. Jaerick, not wanting to waste another minute, motioned the others to follow him out of the fortress when his sergeant and three soldiers came running back inside. “Run!” He shouted as arrows flew past them. “There are too many of them!”

  Jaerick, with the grim realization that they were trapped, grabbed the sergeant, and shouted in his face, “Push the people back into the stables in the courtyard, make yourselves an elven shield, and then protect them with your lives.”

  Jaerick took Traelyn’s hand and began to lead her back to the courtyard, but she stiffened.

  “No. I know another way. Follow me,” she said jerking her hand out of his, and then ran up a flight of stairs to their right. Jaerick followed and commanded his soldiers of the change of command and to grab all of the others and to follow as well. As the group charged up the stairs, the goblins rushed out of the south tunnel, attacking the tail end of the group and slaughtering them one at a time as they caught them.

  Traelyn led the group back into a hallway, made a sharp left turn that took them further upstairs. They could hear the fighting closing in on them. The sound of soldiers and goblins fighting and dying was even closer, in front of them now as well as behind them. Then Traelyn made an abrupt turn into an empty round room with a gravel floor, she lifted a large wooden hatch on the floor exposing a large hole. The sound of rushing water could be heard far below. She looked at Jaerick with fear in her eyes. “We have to jump.”

  “How far down?” Jaerick asked.

  “I don’t know. This is where we dump our liquid wastes. It goes straight into the Sippling River.”

  “I guess we have no choice,” he said as a small group of commoners filed into the room. “The soldiers are all killed!” the last one shouted as he came into the room, then fell over as a sword tip came through his chest. His eyes bulged in shock and horror as the goblin behind him withdrew his sword and pushed the body to the ground. A dozen more goblins rushed in one by one, grabbing and killing the commoners as they tried in vain to escape.

  They had no choice; Jaerick grabbed Traelyn’s hand, and jumped. They fell straight down. They fell about fifty feet landing on a metal grate that snapped at the hinges as they landed, breaking their fall. Wooden buckets and metal tools caught by the grate long ago bounced, then fell with them into the water, still another twenty feet below.

  Jaerick and Traelyn splashed into the deep
cold water, and came up gasping for air. Jaerick looked downstream and saw Traelyn move through the swift current. Jaerick swam to her and caught her arm and grabbed her, held her tight, and did not fight the current, but let it take them downstream, and away from harm.

  * * *

  After Traelyn and Jaerick left Dar Drannon’s chambers, the two kings rushed out to the battle only to find that they were much too late to make any difference in the outcome of the battle. The goblin and gront force was peppered throughout every crack and crevice of the fortress, like ants before a rainstorm. They slaughtered everything that moved and breathed. They set aflame anything that would burn. Hutches, work shacks, equipment, everything was being destroyed and burning. They screamed their victory cry as they scurried to find more things to burn and destroy.

  Dar Drannon looked at his friend, Keiyann, and they both knew that there was nothing they could do, it was too late for last-minute tactics, no last great heroic charge to demoralize the enemy. In short, the fortress, the soldiers, and common people had been overrun.

  “Dar Drannon,” Keiyann said, not taking his eyes from the carnage of once brave soldiers and terrified common people who thought that the halls of Dar Drannon could not be penetrated by such a barbaric force. “There is one more thing left to do.”

  Dar Drannon looked to his fellow king in confusion. “What more can we do other than go down there and take a few to their deaths before they take us.”

  “No. My people have prophesied this day, and though it will end in defeat, it will be both a glorious, yet controversial day for many years to come.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I don’t expect you to. Follow me back to the chambers.”

  The two men went back to the council chambers and barred the doors. As they did so, Gralanxth charged into the lower courtyard. He had a sword in one hand and his spiked club in the other. He screamed as he ran, and in his rage of battle, he knocked two gronts off their feet with one wide swing of his club. The gronts flew ten feet to his left and fell to the ground dead.