out. Guess you beat us to it. Anything here of interest?”
Particus’ footsteps crushed more rubble as he stepped past the patrol. “No, nothing up here. We’ll just be heading back to get some rest before tomorrow.”
Timar moved quickly to follow his friend Particus. The patrol watched the two men walk by and then continued to walk through the crumbling ruins.
The sun rose early the next morning and saw Particus sharpening his sword. He had had the last watch of the night and spent much of the time thinking of who he might know who would be interested in buying the magic from him. Maybe Oron would be interested, but he didn’t usually pay much. Yofar would pay more, but it was always hard to find him. And to get to either, he’d have to get past the church guards at the town gates. It should be worth it, as magic was quite rare, so even Oron should pay enough.
The day was pretty much like each day for the last four weeks. The hired men just wandered about, talking, joking, and looking for an enemy that had not been seen in weeks. After the noon meal, another group of men relieved Particus’ group. Particus, Timar, and their group headed a few hundred yards further along the border. They set up camp at the edge of some trees, next to a short stone wall.
As dusk was falling, the dozen men sat down to eat around their fire. Just as they were starting to get comfortable, they heard the sound of steel on steel in the woods. The men jumped to their feet, grabbing swords and shields as a group of orcs came running from the woods, grunting and swinging various spears and swords.
The men looked to be outnumbered about two to one, and the falling darkness clearly favored the orcs. Particus stood and drew his sword, bloodlust in his eyes. He gave a yell and ran into the swarming orcs, swinging his sword from side to side. Particus knew his trade, and he had been waiting for such a chance. Dodging the unskilled attacks of the orcs, Particus sliced his way thorough the orcs, knocking one after the other to the ground. He was using all his mind and body, oblivious to those around him. Anything with a pig nose was going down.
The battle lasted just a few minutes, but it seemed like hours to those in the battle. When the noise had died down and the battlefield cleared, there were only humans left standing. In the middle of the carnage stood Particus. He stood with bodies all around him, his sword and armor covered in foul-smelling blood. His chest rose and fell with his labored breathing. He had a few cuts, but nothing major. Nearly all the blood on him was that of the fallen orcs.
He looked around and smiled. “This is what I live for,” he thought to himself. He kicked a couple of the fallen orc bodies away and headed back towards the campfire where food was still cooking. As he walked, he saw many dead orcs on the ground, and a few men. “Those were not as skilled as I,” he chuckled lightly to himself.
When he was nearly to the fire, he saw one of the men he recognized: Timar. Timar was badly wounded, and was bleeding from a gaping wound in his side. He reached out towards Particus, trying to speak. Particus bent down to listen to the dying man.
“P…P…Please,” Timar gasped as his breath gurgled in his throat, “I…Can you…use the wand? … Help … me… the wand…”
Particus thought but a moment and patted his friend gently on the shoulder. “Would but I could, dear friend. If I could be sure the wand wouldn’t kill me, I’d use it in a minute, damn the church. But it’s too dangerous for me. I cannot do it. I am sorry.”
Particus turned and walked back to the campfire thinking to himself, “I guess he was not as strong a warrior as I.” When he got to the fire, he picked up a piece of nearly burnt pork. He ignored the stench of the dead orcs and the moaning of the dying as he sank his teeth into the well-cooked meat.
The rest of the night passed rather uneventfully. After finishing their meal, the mercenaries cleaned up the battlefield. A few members of the church arrived to see to the dying and to perform the last rites for the dead men, including Timar. The mercenaries rejoiced in burning the horrid bodies of the orcs, knowing they would be rewarded in gold for each one they had killed.
The next morning, a messenger arrived at the mercenary campsite. Because of the skirmish last night, it was believed the main enemy army would be trying to break through at this very point. Therefore, one of the most prominent generals of the land, Balfor, and a number of troops were headed this way to help shore up this area.
Most of the mercenaries were indifferent to the news, as they were getting paid no matter who was there with them. Particus, however, knew the name of Balfor. Many years ago, Particus had fought alongside Balfor. Particus had been greatly impressed with Balfor’s skill in battle, and indeed learned a great deal from this powerful man. The two had not seen each other in many years, but Particus was sure that Balfor could only be more skilled in battle by this time.
Particus grew more excited as the sun advanced across the sky. He could not wait to meet his old friend and swap tales of war and battle. He knew Balfor would always know more about the art of war, and Particus relished the chance to learn more and to fight once again at the side of such a powerful man. It would not be long before his patience would be rewarded.
Late in the afternoon, the reinforcements started arriving. The advance scouts appeared quickly and disappeared just as fast. Before they arrived, the men could hear the thundering hoofs of the armed cavalry heading down the roads. There were at least 500 men, so they must have really been expecting a large horde of orcs. In the middle of the main body a large white banner whipped in the wind, indicating the arrival of General Balfor.
As soon as the banner had arrived and placed on the ground marking the general’s tent, Particus made his way there. He called out to his old friend and was greeted with a solemn nod and a shoulder as Balfor turned and made his way into his tent.
Particus followed Balfor into the command tent and found himself among a number of obviously important people. They all looked at him, and he thought one of them said something under his breath about, “Unreliable hired help,” but he wasn’t sure. He ignored the stares of the men and walked towards Balfor. As soon as he started, the other men blocked his passage.
“Where are you headed, mercenary?” one of the men asked as he stood in Particus’ way, arms crossed in front of his chest. Particus stopped with his face mere inches from the other man’s face – close enough they could feel one another’s breathing on their faces.
“To see my friend, Balfor.”
Balfor looked over and nodded to the other men in the room who quickly stepped aside to allow Particus to pass. Particus walked over to Balfor and clasped a hand to his shoulder. “My friend, what have you been getting yourself into? You must tell me the stories of your recent battles and glorious victories! I long to learn more from you, as I have before.”
Balfor shook his head and began speaking in a solemn, low tone. “Ah, my friend Particus. It has been quite a time. Alas I do not have time for the stories of old. Times have changed. I owe my allegiance to the crown now. I have promised my service and my life to defend this magnificent country which I love.”
“Now times are hard, but I have renewed my vow. Indeed, this may be the time I am asked to give my life in the hopes of keeping the repulsive orcs from our land.” He looked Particus in the eyes, “There are between 800 and 1,000 orcs headed this way. They have poor leadership, but the simple numbers are enough to slaughter us. We have brought 500 troops, but when added to all the mercenaries in the area, we only total 600. We cannot get more troops here before the orcs arrive, so we have to hope there is some way we can destroy the horde.”
At that, a number of the other men in the room spoke up:
“Sir, we shall follow you.”
“Indeed, there is not a man here that would not do all he can for you.”
“We shall follow you even unto death.”
Balfor nodded to the other men, “I thank you. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you for your loyalty. Do n
ot ally yourself with me without allying yourself with our country. I would not be able to lead if I did not believe in keeping this land whole.”
Particus nodded, a little unsure about the attitude of everyone else in the room. “I see. Perhaps when the battles are done we shall have time to talk. I am confident that with your abilities that you will not perish.”
“You may tell the other mercenaries that there is a substantial bonus for those who are valiant and survive the battle. Those who do not wish the risk are free to depart. The orcs will be here by first light tomorrow morning.”
Particus nodded again and walked out of the tent, back to the campfire with some of the other mercenaries.
The men slept early, and prepared for battle throughout the early morning hours. The sound of steel crashing and being sharpened could be heard, although there were few voices. Most of the men were making peace with themselves and their maker, preparing for the giant battle to come. At dawn, the orcs arrived.
There were hundreds of them. They came in waves, one after another. As soon as one fell, two others ran up to take its place. At first the men were slaughtering the orcs, but soon the tide began to turn as the men tired and fresh orcs rushed in.
Particus was doing well, he had only a few