While Ran was immersed in constructing his goblin-proof fortress, refuges begin arriving from the Kingdom of Queen Fae, Bretwalda’s eastern neighbor. Six days later, Queen Fae led what was left of her army into Lord Ran’s camp. She was sorry to learn that King Red died in battle, but she had problems of her own. She was attacked in her palace by wraiths entering through underground tunnels. She and a hundred soldiers barricaded themselves in her banquet hall for three days and repelled every effort by the subterraneans to break in. The enemy knocked so many holes in the walls and floor of the hall that it became difficult to defend all possible points of attack. When their food ran out, the queen abandoned her palace rather than starve. After exiting her palace, she set up a camp in an open field where she waited for her liegemen to send reinforcements. Two days ago, the subterraneans left the palace and attacked her encampment.
She described to Ran the encounter. “At first, I was gladdened by the site of the attacking goblins. In the open field, goblins are no match for my cavalry. I was looking forward to cutting the enemy to pieces. But when the wraith army approached, we saw that we would be fighting more than just skinny goblins. They had a dozen cave trolls in their midst. Each troll was the height of three men. They were huge, stupid squinty-eyed creatures, armed with massive clubs.”
“Where did the enemy find trolls?” Lord Ran asked.
Terrin interjected, “There are fouler things in the earth than wraiths.”
Queen Fae saw the white goblin for the first time and instinctively drew her sword. Ran stepped between her and Terrin with his arms spread. “This wraith is on our side,” he assured her.
Terrin continued, “The goblins have driven all the trolls out of the north, but here in the south they live in deep underground caves. They raid underground hives and feast on goblin flesh. The fact that trolls are cooperating with goblins indicates Tironock has learned to bend them to his will.”
“Tironock?” asked the queen. “Who is he?”
Ran remembered that the Eastlanders followed a different religious tradition from that practiced by his people. “We believe that Tironock is the evil half of the Earth Spirit. Our religion foretells that he will emerge from the Underworld and attempt to conquer all people who live on the surface.”
“You must be talking about that red giant with long, twisty horns and a longer prick.” The queen replied. “Our battle against the wraiths and their trolls was going well enough until that fire-breathing demon showed up. He appeared out of a cloud of fire and smoke. My cavalry charged him and began driving their spears under his red scales. He squealed like a pig having his balls cut off and backed off, but then he started picking up boulders and throwing them at us. He laughed hysterically the whole time he played a game of ninepins with my best warriors. He wouldn’t let us get close, so I ordered a retreat.”
“I have more bad news,” Queen Fae announced. “We have not come alone. An army of wraiths and trolls is following us and will be here at nightfall. We haven’t seen Big Red, but I imagine he is coming too.”
“Have you come seeking refuge, Your Majesty?” asked Lord Ran.
“Hell, no!” replied the Queen. “We were hoping King Red would loan us his catapults and some iron spears. We need a weapon that will penetrate the demon’s scales.”
“Unfortunately, the only catapults in the vicinity are inside the fallen fortress.”
“So let’s go get them,” said the queen. “How hard can it be? Your wraiths don’t even have trolls.”
Lord Ran agreed, “It is possible to retake the fortress and hold it long enough to recover the catapults. We will attack in one hour.”
Lord Ran assembled all the available warriors. Within the hour, four hundred of his men and one hundred of Queen Fae’s cavalry marched on the gates. Men with hooks and ladders led the vanguard. They stopped out of range of goblin archers to assemble their attack formations. Lord Ran prepared to give the attack order when the drawbridge was lowered and the gates of the fortress swung open. “What is this?” questioned Queen Fae. “Are they going to meet us in open battle?” A second later a solitary wraith walked out onto the bridge. It was Terrin Samraet.
Chapter 44
City of Neu Ardonbrae: Fall from Grace
Ghad marches his two thousand soldiers, not back to the mountains, but toward the capital city of Neu Ardonbrae. “I have sent word for King Lorring to meet us at the gates of the city,” Ghad informs Trak. “We will take the city before the Blue Daggers can regroup.”
King Lorring strides at the front of Ghad’s army as it enters the city. They find its gates unguarded and streets deserted. The lava has cooled in the streets, and Ghad leads his army across the black rock. The guards at the palace doors step aside as King Lorring, Ghad and Trak enter. They find Lord Lizardthroat sitting on the throne. He stares blankly at the king as he approaches.
“Lock Lord Lizardthroat in the dungeons!” the king orders. Melkerei offers only a sneer in protest. He is led away without a word exchanged between King Lorring and his Chief Advisor.”
***
Neu Ardonbrae is in ruins. Fires started by the molten lava have consumed the richest of the buildings. The citizens have fled. Even the city’s prison stands empty. Only a few remnants of the Blue Daggers roam the city searching for food and abandoned valuables. The city reminds Trak of the ancient ruins of Ardonbrae. He imagines that the ancient capital met a similar fate. At least, the lava has stopped flowing out of the doors of the Septantrak.
With the king’s approval, Ghad’s army takes charge of the city’s cleanup operations. While Ghad’s captains go about the tasks of clearing the city of Blue Daggers and other scavengers, Trak and Ghad pay a visit to the great temple. They climb the ancient staircase leading to the Great Hall. The narrow bridge, constructed to span the gap Trak created with his explosives, has been consumed in the lava flow. Ghad and Trak work their way across the hardened lava. It still feels warm to Trak’s touch. They look into the temple. The lava has raised the floor twenty feet. It surrounds the bases of the temple’s columns and covers the remains of all who died there a month before. A few charred banners still hang from the ceiling. Except for the column Tironock imploded, the hall is not greatly altered by the volcano. It could be restored. Lava fills many of the corridors in the lower levels of the temple and makes them impassable. The corridor leading to the scriptorium is blocked, but it is likely that the catacombs can still be entered through its main entrance.
How had the caverns beneath the temple faired? Trak wonders. He locates one of the secret escape passages. It is still open. Trak and Ghad descend to the cavern below. As they approach the ancient seat of the goblin religion, the air reeks of brimstone. The cavern is unchanged. The lava has followed a different path to the surface. Lava still flows in the cavern’s chasm, and an orange glow lights the space. The giant stone goblin is gone. Tironock threw it into the chasm the day the temple was seized. Trak peers into the flowing lava and watches the dark patches on the magma’s surface swirl in and out of recognizable shapes.
It is likely one can still walk to the ruins of Ardonbrae and possibly to the hive below. Ghad decides, “I will send soldiers to explore the possibility that worms and mushrooms can be harvested from the hive’s compost plantation.” Trak is pensive and says little. Ghad asks, “Lord Dragonfire, you have been unusually subdued since the last battle. What is troubling you?”
“I fear there is no force powerful enough to destroy Tironock. He is part of an eternal being. He is evil only because he is a fragmented, separated from the part of him that tempers his instincts and makes him whole. To be controlled, he must reunite with his missing half, Shenal Ken. I am troubled because I don’t know how to accomplish this task.”
“Can you reverse the process by which he was made?” asks Ghad.
Trak speculates, “An ancient text in Bretwalda records that Septan, the first Thaumaturgist, tried to eliminate evil from the world by drawing it out of the Earth Spiri
t and into himself. He failed. The evil was too great for Septan to contain. It killed him. In his attempt, he loosed Tironock on the world and left the Earth Spirit weakened. If one Thaumaturgist can split the Earth Spirit in two, I suppose another can merge the parts together again. Finding Tironock will be no problem, but where do I find Shenal Ken?”
When Ghad suggests they leave the cavern, Trak requests a moment. “I want to contact Myrel and inform her of the most recent developments in the capital.” Trak sits on the cavern floor and draws power from the flowing magma. Ghad walks to the edge of the cavern and rests on a stone ledge. Trak expects to have difficulty contacting Myrel. It is the middle of the day and she could be busily engaged and not receptive to his attempts to reach her. To his surprise, he finds Myrel and Krage sitting on the floor of Trak’s hut preparing to contact him.
“Where are you, Trak? What has happened?” Myrel asks when his spirit enters the hut.
“I’m in the cavern beneath the temple. I came to survey the damage caused by the volcano. Except for looters, the capital is deserted and fires have destroyed half the buildings. King Lorring arrested Lord Lizardthroat for the attempted assassinations. The lava has stopped flowing through the Great Hall. The temple is damaged but not beyond repair. Ghad’s soldiers are restoring order in the city. What news do you have?”
“Alexia and Grenab arrived today. They bring word of a huge migration of subterranean goblins along the east coast. Alexia says they are not armed. They are refugees fleeing Tironock. They seek refuge wherever they can find it. Alexia’s small community is overflowing with subterraneans. The surface dwellers are frightened by the stories the refugees bring. Everyone is in a panic. Thousand of goblins are headed for the mountains.”
Myrel continues, “Messengers from the hive beneath the channel have arrived. They report a large goblin force, loyal to Tironock, has entered the coastal tunnel and now occupies the main hive beneath Neu Ardonbrae. They may try to capture the capital.”
Trak thanks Myrel and Krage for their news. When he emerges from his trance, he finds Ghad standing over him with blood on his drawn sword. He is yelling, “Wake up! We must get out of here.” On the stone floor lay three wraiths in pools of their own blood.
Trak watches Ghad drag the bodies of the dead wraiths to the edge of the platform and toss them into the fiery chasm. Trak speaks, “Krage and Myrel report that goblins loyal to Tironock are in the tunnels below us, but I gather you already know that.”
“You jest, but except for some incredible luck, you would now be dead. I was sitting at the edge of the cavern and was almost asleep when the war cry of three wraiths startled me. I looked up to see the wraiths charging across the cavern. I intercepted the lead attacker, but the second wraith ran past me and headed straight for you. I yelled for you to wake, but I knew it was pointless. I had to throw my sword to stop the wraith from delivering his blow. I have no idea how one throws a sword, but fortunately the tip and not the hilt found the attacker’s back.”
Chapter 45
It is strange a beast as powerful can be defeated by a small trick.
Terrin Samraet
King Red’s Fortress, Bretwalda
“What has happened? Where are the white goblins?” Lord Ran asks Terrin Samraet.
“After your decision to retake the fortress, I entered the stronghold through an underground tunnel and spoke to the wraith commander. I explained our need for catapults and asked him for his help. He said we were fools to fight Tironock. He thanked me for warning him of Tironock’s approach. ‘The fortress is yours,’ he told me. He ordered his soldiers to run for the tunnels.”
Queen Fae wastes no time. She and her men climb the battlements to ready the catapults for the pending attack. Among the catapults are two massive crossbows designed to fire heavy iron spears into siege engines. With these giant crossbows, Queen Fae would slay the demon Tironock. The queen sets her men to sharpening the iron spear tips that are as heavy as anvils.
At dusk, Queen Fae’s wraiths appear. They stay out of range until a dozen trolls come into view. Five trolls lumber toward the gates of the fortress. Lord Ran orders his archers to fire. Each troll receives dozens of hits. Most of the arrows stick in their thick leather armor. Strikes to their hands and feet enrage the trolls, but don’t stop their advance. An arrow pierces the globe of one Troll’s eye. He roars in pain and yanks the arrow out, pulling his globe out of its socket. When the first troll reaches the moat below the raised drawbridge, he wades into the water and hammers the wooden gate with his huge cudgel. Soon, three trolls are battering the base of the gate. Ran can see that with each blow small splinters fly from the gate’s oak timbers. He judges it will take a long time before the gate fails.
Then, three more trolls carrying long spikes arrive. They drive the points into the soften wood and pry off chunks. The dimwitted giants produce significant damage. In a few minutes they would drill a small hole through the gate. Lord Ran orders boiling oil poured from the battlement. The trolls howl and fall back, but a moment later they are at it again. They enter the moat and resume hammering and picking the timbers at the base of the gate. The men successfully impede the trolls until their supply of oil is exhausted. Ran orders the large rocks used in the catapults dropped on the heads of the trolls. One hits a head with an audible thud. The troll collapses and floats face down in the moat. The bruised, blistered and punctured trolls hammer on. With Tironock’s will driving them, they will not stop while they live.
When the trolls had chipped a hole large enough for a goblin to crawl through, a troll appears with an enormous hook attached to a thick rope. He inserts the hook through the hole and lodges its barb on the inside of the wooden gate. The full contingent of trolls grabs the rope and heave in unison. A timber cracks, doubling the size of the hole. A troll wades out into the moat and repositions the hook. Ran realizes that soon the gate will be breached. He orders the oil floating on the surface of the moat ignited. It would burn for an hour and buy the defenders time.
“How do we stop them?” Ran asks Terrin.
“Find sacks of flour?” Terrin responds. What does Terrin want to do, wonders Ran, bake them a cake? Ran sends soldiers to the kitchens to gather what flour they can locate. He watches as Terrin pours a bag into the flaming moat. The fine powder burns so rapidly that it produces a small explosion. “This will work,” Terrin announces.
When the oil in the moat is consumed, a troll carrying the hook wades toward the door. As he reaches through the hole in the gate to set the hook, a man standing behind the door throws flour into the troll’s face, blinding him, while a second man shoves a torch into the eye slits of his helm. The troll’s eyes are badly burned as the flour ignites. A second troll, attempting to set the hook, is also blinded. Ran thanks Terrin for his solution. Terrin responds, “It is strange a beast so powerful can be defeated by so small a trick.”
Terrin spoke too soon. The trolls are not defeated. The next one to approach the door covers his head with a leather cloak. He wades to the gate and blindly sets the hook. In a moment, another timber is yanked from the gate. “We need some of Trak’s explosives,” exclaims Lord Ran. “I’ll search the armory; perhaps some of his pyrotechniques are still there.” He finds barrels containing the ingredients needed to make black powder. The goblins who captured the fortress didn’t know the purpose of the powders and left them undisturbed. “Trak makes his explosives by mixing these three ingredients,” Lord Ran informs Queen Fae. “Unfortunately, I don’t know the exact formula.”
“We don’t have time to figure it out. Mix them together and hope it works,” the Queen responds. She orders five of her soldiers to shake equal parts of charcoal, brimstone and niter together in the empty flour bags. When the ingredients are crudely mixed, the powder is poured back into the wooden storage barrels. Within five minutes, five barrels of crude black powder stand stacked in the courtyard.
The battle for the gate continues for another hour. Men with long spears jab at
the trolls attempting to set the hook. Using their full strength, they thrust their spears into the hides covering the troll’s faces seeking to penetrate the eye slits in their helms.
Most of the combatants on both sides stand watching as the trolls mindlessly pick apart the gate. As the gate weakens, both sides know the fighting is about to begin in earnest. When the gate fails, Lord Ran expects the Underworld wraiths to follow the remaining trolls into the courtyard. The archers and the catapulters stand on the battlements ready to blunt the charge. When the charge comes, the attackers quickly reach the gate. The catapulters have time to launch only one volley, tossing large boulders at the charging goblins and sending dozens of attackers flying. But the number of wraiths casualties produced is insignificant.
The archers are more effective. The subterranean goblins wear no protective armor, and most shots bring down an attacker. Heavily armored knights stand in the gateway preventing the last two standing trolls from climbing out of the moat. The men defending the fortress are focused on the attacking goblins and don’t notice the cloud of dust swirling in the courtyard until Tironock begins to take form. As Tironock materializes, both men and goblins back to the edge of the inner wall. They watch Tironock lumber over to the tower that supports the gate and place his hands on the stones. The tower blows apart, crushing the combatants below with chunks of stone.
On the battlements, men struggle to rotate the heavy catapults so they can get a shot at the demon. The first bow fires, sending a heavy iron spear into the flesh of Tironock’s forearm. Tironock roars. The men manning the bow scatter as Tironock flings a large fragment of the fallen tower and smashes the catapult beyond use. Tironock turns to face the second crossbow. The weapon is not yet in position to fire. The men flee when Tironock throws a second chunk of the tower in their direction. The fragment of masonry smashes into the top of the battlement, toppling the crossbow into the courtyard below.