Armies of the Silver Mage (17 page)

“The powers of life and death are beyond our control. As is the destiny of Man.

Celegon, surely you must understand the potential danger in our involvement? How many died in the last war? How many friends and brothers did we lose? Man has learned nothing in the time since. Nothing! They continue with their petty wars and idle fantasies while the world disintegrates around them. Our paths must separate before both our peoples are destroyed. Your father sees the truth of this. Why can’t you?”

“I’ve always held a soft spot for humans, Derlith. You know this,” Celegon said in a quiet voice.

The Ogres joined the battle. Most of the Goblin lines were shattered and combat ineffective. A healthy majority of the Ogres were riddled with flaming arrows and barbed pikes. The humans were bringing ballistae forward to counter the murderous foe. Giant wooden arrows a foot around and six long were loaded and aimed at the charging Ogres.

“Look at them. Not even Elves would stand against so many Ogres,” Celegon said.

“Each and every one of them is scared to wit’s end and still they stand. If only my father had that same courage for our people’s future.”

“It would be a future laden in grief,” came the answer. “Come, we need to get out of this pass before the storms get worse.”

Being a prince of Elves had both advantages and disadvantages. His opinions were generally held in high regard so long as they mirrored the consensus of the Elves. Most policies and legislation remained beyond the scope of his authority. His father often included him in private conversations and, every once in a while, allowed Celegon’s reasoning to win through. Alsenal alone was accountable when it came to the welfare of the Highland Elves.

High pitched screams and wails drifted up to them. Ogres were starting to die badly. A further look showed many already on the ground in growing pools of blood. But it was not enough. The defense was folding. Desperation sent the cavalry charging into the Ogre flanks. It was a suicide charge. They had to know that horsemen were no match for the armor skinned warriors of Gren. Tears filled Celegon’s eyes.

“When was it last you witnessed such bravery?” he asked.

The Elf prince stood transfixed on the gruesome scene.

“They need our help.”

“So that we may suffer the same fate? I am not so ready to die for Man.”

Celegon knew better than to continue the argument, but the courage of the defenders demanded more.

“Think what they could do with a handful of our companies at their side, Derlith.

We’d stem the enemy tide and drive them back into Gren long before the war had the chance to spread,” Celegon said.

“Join them if you wish, but I’ll have no part in it,” Derlith replied. “My orders were to scout the battlefield and return with what I saw. Nothing more.”

He leaned closer to his prince and said, “this is not our war.”

“And when it becomes so?”

“Come on. We need to go home. The outcome of this battle was decided before it even began. Time will come and pass and nothing Men or Elves do will stop it.”

TWENTY-THREE

A light wind tickled Norgen’s beard though he laughed not. He and Hallis stood together, arms folded across their chests and watching the distant riders. Two more days of hard pressed travel brought them almost full circle back to the King’s Road. The game of cat and mouse with the Goblins had been a series of hit and miss. There were few casualties and nothing more.

Woodland gave way to rock strewn fields which eventually turned back into lightly forested hills. Hallis stopped the column, instructing Jin to set up a defensive perimeter before he and another rider went down into the valley. They already had one over strength company of Goblins hunting them and he wasn’t about to be caught in a trap so close to Paedwyn. Most of the morning was gone before Hallis, Norgen and the boys left the protective circle of sentries and pickets to await Jin’s return.

“A good sign,” the dour Dwarf said. “Of course we’d be able to hunt down them Goblins if they had more riders a coming.”

Precisely what I’d do if not for the urgency of the times, Hallis thought.

“Unfortunately matters demand otherwise,” he replied. “Averon has greater need for trained soldiers. A company of Goblins is of small concern.”

“At least there’s one less Gnaal to trouble us,” Delin beamed.

It took all their combined efforts to defeat the demon of Gren. They bonded that day, in an irrefutable fellowship of warriors since time began. Hope returned and the boys saw the light of the sun again. Even the hard pressed recruits found a new life and hungered to reach Paedwyn and gain their revenge for the ones left in that cold, distant forest.

“Indeed. We owe you both a debt of gratitude. Were not for your sword and quick thinking we’d all be dead,” Hallis said with a smile. “I like you Delin Kerny. My son was much as you are.”

Fennic couldn’t help but ask, “Where is he now?”

Hallis closed his eyes and his attitude turned sour. “He joined the army against my wishes and went to one of the Troll hunter companies. The last we heard of him was before his company was dispatched to the Thed Mountains north of Braem to put down a local uprising.”

The looks in their eyes suggested naivety so he answered their unasked question.

“That was nigh on six years ago. Less than a score of men returned. None of them were in the same frame of mind as when they left. When my days of service end I will go and learn what fate befell my son.”

He was suddenly thankful for the closeness of the riders. The story was hard to tell and it pained him immeasurably with each telling. Jin reined to a halt a few meters away and dismounted.

“What news, Jin?” Hallis asked.

“Good news, Sergeant! The road ahead is clear all the way to Paedwyn. This is Corporal Storr. He’s been sent as a guide to escort us in.”

Storr nodded his greeting. His dark eyes betrayed his surprise at seeing the Dwarf.

“Sergeant, I’ve been assigned to take you to the outpost at Dill Rock. There is a company of lancers awaiting you. The King has heard of your peril and wishes to speak with you once all is settled,” Storr told them.

This was news for Hallis. He’d thought none but his own men knew of their plight from Alloenis. “Very well, young Storr.” Hallis motioned for the last rider, an unknown boy from a small hamlet west of Alloenis. “Go back and tell Blaron to marshal the men and break camp. We are going to Paedwyn today.”

“Yes sir,” replied the boy before riding off.

“Tell me, Storr, what is this Dill Rock outpost? I’ve heard nothing of the capitol’s defenses since returning to the flat lands,” Hallis asked.

“High Commander Steleon thought it wise to place a series of outposts in a great circle around Paedwyn. He knows that Gren Mot cannot hold the enemy forever and the host has not assembled yet. The outposts are designed as an early warning device should the enemy flood the plains.”

“You make it sound like the war is underway,” Hallis replied.

Storr swallowed hard. “The fortress is sorely under siege.”

“What? That can’t be! Gren was nowhere close to attacking when I left.”

“Sergeant, matters changed greatly over the last few weeks. We received a messenger from Gren demanding we surrender the fortress. King Maelor laugh at this and dismissed the messenger without a response. Gren Mot was already under attack.”

Hallis thought of his friends and comrades fighting for their lives without him at their side. He was supposed to be there. Supposed to be standing the wall side by side with all of them.

“Fynten is a good man, but even he can’t hold long,” Jin broke in. Plenty of his friends were trapped in the mountain pass as well.

“What plans for relief does Steleon have?” Hallis asked.

Storr stood stone faced and cold. Like the professional soldier he was, he kept his emotions in check. “He’s been instructed to build the host. Gren Mot will see no reinforcements for some time.”

“There are over two thousand troops there. Does Steleon expect them to sacrifice so much?” he gasped in shock.

“He asks only what the king commands. When the host is ready we will march on Gren. King Maelor desires an end state with this long conflict.”

Jin felt his heart sag. “What news from the front?”

“Messengers arrive daily. The enemy is still far from reaching our walls and a great number have fallen. But our own wounded flow back in an unending stream.”

He didn’t say what was next. He didn’t need to. They all knew it was a hopeless mission. The rustle of men and equipment ended their conversation, which Hallis was most grateful for.

Blaron presented the troops with a wry smile and professional salute. “The column is formed, Sergeant. May we please go home now?”

“By all means,” Hallis said with a smile. “By all means.”

The younger Blaron turned towards the men and barked, “Forward…… march!”

Horsemen and Dwarf at their head, Hallis led them down the long road to Paedwyn.

Roast meat and pheasant assaulted their senses. They’d spent the last few hours cleaning themselves and changing into their new uniforms of green and gold. Hallis and his band of companions commandeered a small building for themselves. They’d been told they were going to spend the night at Dill Rock. The rest of the company was quartered in the troop tents. The tents lacked heat, but everyone had a cot and blankets to themselves. More than the harshness the wild offered.

Cooks and the mess staff were busy chopping onions and carrots and peeling potatoes and turnips to throw into those big cast iron cauldrons for a healthy stew. Bread baked in the field ovens and the meats were near done cooking. Some of the poorer soldiers had never eaten so well.

Delin and Fennic got most of the attention once word of their heroics spread through. The soldiers of Averon were trained to battle, but none had ever fought a Gnaal, much less defeated one. For those two young boys to accomplish such was unheard of. They were given the best spots around the fire and were the first in line to eat. Seconds and thirds were piled onto their plates. Fresh ale and beer was brought out by the keg, for a small celebration was underway. They were the first heroes of Averon’s war.

Unsure of the newfound popularity he found himself sharing, Norgen acquired a pipe and a pouch of the best leaf in camp for a quiet smoke along the picket wall. Men were strange by Dwarf standards. He found no cause for celebration. There was no reason to drink and cheer. Battles needed to be fought and won. Friends were going to die, and others would return home a fragment of their former selves. Norgen exhaled a thick plume of bluish smoke and was struck by a thought. Perhaps these men celebrated now because of uncertainty. There were never guarantees in war, this one especially. Such was the way of life. Perhaps they celebrated merely to keep the darkness from icing their hearts. He had to admit the idea was appealing, and there was a warped sense of reasoning about it, but a Dwarf could not partake so prematurely.

“What keeps your mind locked in struggle this fine night, master Dwarf?” Hallis called from behind.

Norgen eyed him, instantly spying the mugs in his hands. He gratefully accepted one.

“Your people have a stronger spine than we believed.”

Hallis chuckled. “I’m not so sure that is always a good thing. More often than not it leads us down the wrong paths.”

“As with all peoples,” agreed the Dwarf. “I must admit that I didn’t think Averon was going to be able to weather this storm. Those two boys have given me reason to rethink.”

Hallis clapped a hand on the Dwarf’s shoulder, which came as a surprise but Norgen said nothing.

“Wait until you gaze upon the glory of Paedwyn, my friend. Oh how your eyes will open,” Hallis told him.

“Open spaces and towering buildings aren’t to my liking, but I will see this city of yours on condition.”

“Which would be?”

Norgen laughed. “That you return with me to Breilnor when this war is over. Kindness must be repaid. Once you look upon the wonders of the Dwarven kingdoms you’ll find there is nothing comparable. Jewel lined walls rich in ore and treasure. Halls of majestic grandeur. There is a warmth inside, a warmth to keep your heart content until the end of days. You need come to Breilnor.”

“When this is over I shall take you up on the offer,” Hallis replied.

Mounted to the last man, Norgen included despite much fussing and protests, Hallis and his men began the last leg of their journey to Paedwyn. Many of the recruits suffered from the lack of sleep and hard days on the hunt. They were all anxious to go. Once Storr galloped to the head of the column, Hallis gave the signal to move out. He was eager to return to Paedwyn and, more importantly, his wife. She was the one person he admired above all else and she certainly deserved more than what he was giving her. Any soldier knew how hard it was balancing military and family life. His was no exception. Hallis was deathly afraid he’d devoted too much of his life to his brothers in arms and not her. He could only hope she understood.

Sunlight broke through the clouds, sending long streams across the land and crowning the distant mountaintops in golden halos. The horses seemed more spirited during their march. Songs were sung as the trials of just a day before were pushed towards the back of their minds.

“How much further?” Fennic asked. Weeks of walking and now riding again after so long was beginning to take a toll on his rump.

Hallis tried his best to keep his laugh to himself. “Not much longer.”

“Hmmph. He’s been saying that all morning,” Norgen growled. “I’m starting to think this city is all make believe.”

Just then a large, blurred darkness came into view. Slowly, that blur found definition and that definition became precise until all could distinguish each majestic building from the next.

“Behold!” Storr called back to them. “The glory of Paedwyn!”

And they turned their heads as one to gaze upon the throne of Averon and not a man was left unaffected.

TWENTY-FOUR

There are moments in every man’s life when his heart feels like bursting and his senses strain to comprehend. This was such a moment for Fennic and Delin. Neither had been able to close their mouths since the glory of Paedwyn emerged from the haze. Tall spires of white crowned in gold and silver reached up to the heavens as if to challenge the eternal beauty. Sunlight showered the city, punctuating the color and impressiveness. Fennic used to feel his imagination was limitless, but nothing in his dreams ever came close to this.