The Fallen Guardian (The Guardian Chronicles 2) (11 page)

“I
will send them straight away then. We should not delay the king’s departure for
the capital,” agreed Marcello. “What would you have me do?”

“I
want you to get back up on that bluff and pound them into the ground. If you
get the chance, kill that wicked warlock if you can,” Lang said with great
disgust.

“I
will try to make you proud,” the magician replied.

***

Lord
Dükker was in the throes of a full on tantrum once he realized that the giants
had pulled back from the edge of the cliff. He cursed them with every vile and
hateful thing he could think of. He had successfully driven them back from the
wall and had destroyed many of the defensive weapons that the people of Landen
had created. That was why the troops nearest to the enraged Dükker did not
understand his outbursts. They thought he had accomplished exactly what he was
hoping to do. They did not understand that he was frustrated because he let the
elves and giants escape. He was also infuriated by the fact that the giants had
a wizard that was not only powerful, but he was intelligent as well. He had not
planned on this and did not know exactly what to do.
The brute will be
impossible to bring down because of his resistance to magic!

The
troops around the downcast warlock began to inch away slowly. They all knew
that he was probably the most powerful warlock in Tuwa, and they did not want
to be around when he lost his cool completely. Lord Aellenas stopped ranting
and raving after a few more moments. He then seemed to be lost in his own
thoughts and did not recognize the people around him backing away in fear. His
brow furrowed as he concentrated on what course of action to take.
I must do
something dramatic to send the appropriate message to these giants. I should
probably send the orc siege warriors back into the forest to continue their
building of catapults and siege towers. I should probably send some of my
archers to protect their southern flank from a surprise attack by the army of
Aran.

“Commander
Nolan, I want you to take your archers back into the forest to protect the
soldiers who are building the siege works,” ordered Aellenas. “Make sure that
you are out of the giants’ range before you begin working. I will also be
sending a small number of our archers to watch your southern flank in case the
people of Aran decide to come up for a look.”  His expression was cold and dark
as he gave his orders. His eyes were filled with such great anger that he could
not hide it from those he was addressing.

“Whatever
you want,” replied the orc commander gruffly. He did not like the fact that the
warlock felt his archers were superior to his own.

“Commander
Regulas, send two detachments of archers to assist our stout friends,” Dükker
said to his commander over the high elven archers.

“Yes,
sir!” snapped the commander in reply as he saluted the dark elf. He did an
about-face and trotted over to where his archers were stationed.

As
the orc siege warriors and two detachments of high elven archers made their way
into the shadowy portents of the Black Forest, Dükker turned his attention to
the cliff wall that rose high before him. He had decided to do two things as he
had watched the troops leave. First, instead of using the makeshift bridges of
the orcs, he would create a magical passage that would allow the armies to walk
on the waters as though they were earth. He did not believe that it was wise to
be caught on this side of the river by the army of Aran who would get involved
in this conflict sooner or later. Second, he would order the armies to gather
in the southern plains just out of reach of the defensive weapons of Landen.
Once he was there, he would work on a strategy that would limit their losses
and inflict the maximum amount of damage.

Dükker
beckoned for Generals Nero, Synan, and Tomo to join him for a vital
discussion.  They stood in a small circle just inside the eaves of the Black
Forest. They talked about his plans for moving the armies to the other side of
the river. He further explained that the orc archers would be asked to follow
the armies once they had either built their siege weapons and towers. It was
very important that they reach the other side of the river and regroup in the
rock trolls’ homeland. He had to reassure the orc generals that the rock trolls
were not actually there at the moment as they were engaged in an intense battle
with King Jarvis. They did not take the news too well because there had never
been an orc who entered those desolate, wind-ravaged lands and returned to tell
the tale.

“Do
not worry, my friends. The rock trolls are in league with us, so even if by
some happenstance they are there, they would assist us and not grind us into
oblivion,” Dükker said soothingly. The orc generals nodded their agreement with
this explanation.

“I
will create the magical passageway now, so you can begin moving your troops. I
will then create a distraction that should give us all time to cross without
incident.”

“What
exactly are you going to do?” asked General Tomo.

“You
will see,” replied Dükker with a wicked look on his dark face.

Dükker
dismissed the generals, and he turned around to face the cliff wall just beyond
the Blaine River. He directed his stare at the water in front of him, and as he
continued to look at the waters, a staff magically appeared in his left hand.
He quickly raised it up and pointed it at the rushing waters. In an instant,
the waters ceased to flow and became still like a lake. He smiled at his own
ingenuity and quickly turned his focus toward the cliff wall. He held his staff
out to one side as he began to levitate above the ground. He appeared to be
doing the same thing Queen Kishi had done when they left Mount Konane. The high
elves held their breath in anticipation of what would come next. The warlock
began to rise higher and higher into the sky above the river. He reached a
point that was several feet above the cliff’s edge and hovered there.

A
blackish purple ball consumed him momentarily and then burst out from him in
the direction of the giant defenders. The ray that he sent at the massive
soldiers would have caused instant death to any other creature or being in
Tuwa, but they did not suffer any deaths from this attack. Dükker laughed aloud
at the looks of triumph on the silly brutes’ faces. They did not realize that
everything around them had died. Their wooden siege weapons and missiles became
so brittle that a small wind would turn them to dust. Some of the giants were
affected by the magic, and the effects were immediately apparent. Those who had
not closed their unprotected eyes or closed their mouths were the ones who
displayed the results of their inaction. Those who did not close their eyes had
empty sockets where their eyes used to be. Those who had left their mouths open
in awe began to vomit uncontrollably.

Dükker
did not wait for any retaliation and went on the offensive again. He twirled
his staff quickly, and a wave of unquenchable flames shot out repeatedly as he
continued to twirl his staff. Fire erupted along parts of the western and
southern cliff edges. The flames reached some twenty feet high and blinded
anyone atop the cliff from anything that may be going on below. The warlock
then flew over to the southwestern edge of the cliff and beckoned to the armies
below to begin their crossing. It took several hours for the three orc armies
and the high elven army to walk across the water that did not move. Everyone
that made it to the other side had an eerie feeling from the magic that
Aellenas had used on the river. After a couple more hours, they had all gathered
together just inside the northern border of Nodin. They were all immensely
relieved that no rock trolls were present.

Lord
Dükker had not joined the armies like he said he would, and the generals began
to worry. They hoped that their fearless leader had not been hurt or killed,
but they knew that there must be a very good reason for his delay. While they
waited patiently for their leader to appear, they made camp and began to
discuss the events of the past few days. The orcs were in awe of the power and
courage displayed by the warlock Aellenas. They were in high spirits despite
the fact that the elves and giants had eluded them. They did not seem fazed by
the absence of their leader either. They all agreed that he was probably
sticking it to those wretched giants. Their boasting and revelry continued into
the night as they sat around their campfires. The only ones who seemed remotely
concerned about the absence of Dükker, Commander Nolan and the orc archers were
the orc generals. They kept their uneasy thoughts to themselves and discussed
strategies they could employ if the worst should happen.

As
Lord Dükker watched the armies finish their crossing, he turned his attention
to the troops who were still in the woods. He had the sudden feeling come over
him that something was horribly wrong. He descended rapidly to the ground of
the eastern side on the river and made his way swiftly into the forest. He
could hear the sounds of arrows whirring through the air as he approached the
orcs’ siege works. There were no sounds of battle aside from the continual
sound of flying projectiles through the air. He finally heard noises that made
his heart sink…thudding. The missiles were making contact with their targets
from the sound of it. He quickened his pace to the clearing that the orcs had
made, and he came to an abrupt halt just in the shadows of the trees on the
eastern edge of the bloody scene. His eyes widened in shock as he surveyed the
mass of bodies lying on the ground.

Every
single orc had been killed by arrows. The whirring noise he was hearing was
caused by a group of archers who were high in the trees firing down at the orcs
that were writhing on the ground. Within a few minutes, silence consumed the
clearing and none of the orcs moved from that time forward. Commander Nolan and
his troops had been wiped out within a few minutes. They had been ambushed by
archers of Aran. Dükker was sure of it. He watched a group of six soldiers walk
into the open toward the middle. They reached a body that was full of no less
than fifteen arrows and was surrounded by high elven archers who were just as
riddled with arrows, all of them dead. There were awkward movements as they
huddled together, and then they separated to search the dead for supplies. They
had removed the commander’s head by force and had placed it on a tree stump in
the center of the siege works that stood nearly ten feet high.

Dükker
could take it no longer, and his staff magically appeared at his side once
again. From the shadows of the trees, he sent out his blackish purple wave that
hit the vile men. Their bodies liquefied and sloshed to the ground in a heap of
mush. Arrows began to fly at him from every direction. He did not realize that
he was standing right under a group of archers who were high in the trees. He
turned around and made a break for it. He called up a protective shield around
himself as he made his way toward the river. The archers continued to follow
their quarry through the treetops. The arrows stopped so suddenly that Dükker
looked around to see what had happened. He quickly realized that they were
simply trying to circle around him from above and that they were waiting for
others to join in the pursuit. He ducked his head down as a few arrows flew at
him and he resumed his retreat to the river.

As
soon as he reached the river, a barrage of arrows flew at him from the eaves of
the forest. Several of the arrows hit in the same exact spot on his magical
shield, which caused a slight opening. He was hit by no less than ten arrows
through that small orifice. He went down hard and slid into the river. His limp
body slid across the smooth surface he had created until he was in the middle
of the river where he finally stopped. All at once the river sprang back into
life and hit him with a series of waves that washed him down river. The
protective shield around him remained intact, but the endless flame wall he had
created dissipated as his bloodied body floated down the Blaine. The archers of
Aran came down out of the trees to watch, what they took for a lifeless body,
the intruder’s body be washed away. Satisfied that they had killed the only
person who could report what had happened, they returned to the orc-made
clearing.

Lord
Dükker had rolled over onto his back as he floated downstream toward an unknown
destination. He was acutely aware that he had a small grouping of ten arrows
stuck in his lower back. He needed to remove those cursed arrows so he could
magically seal the massive wound. He would not be able to heal himself by using
his magic, so it would take him some time to recover completely. He would have
to resort to conventional means to speed up the process.
First thing first,
I really need to get these arrows out of my back. How am I going to accomplish
this?  I can barely move, and I am using all of my energy just to stay afloat.
The
answer to his quandary was a painful one.

As
he floated near to one of the banks, two of the arrows got caught on some rocks
and were ripped from his body. Blood gushed from the wound as more arrows were
caught in the shallows of the river and were torn free. After a few moments of
excruciating pain, all ten arrows had been removed violently from Dükker’s
back. He needed to stop the bleeding soon or else he would die. He gingerly
reached out for some reeds to stop himself from continuing his uncontrolled
journey down the Blaine. After several painful attempts at stopping himself, he
grasped a handful of reeds and halted his progression. He pulled himself toward
the low bank on the eastern side of the river until he had grounded himself in
some shallow water. He lay there for several minutes before he mustered the
strength to seal his wound with the magical shield he had used to protect his
entire body. The bleeding stopped, but now he was completely vulnerable to
attack now that his shield was being used to protect his gaping wound.

He
remained where he was for several hours, waiting to get enough strength to move
his battered body into the trees for the night. The sky began to darken when he
finally crawled from the shallow pool he had been lying in. He made his way
gingerly to the eaves of the forest, which was only twenty feet away from the
bank of the river. This short distance took him a couple of hours to traverse.
Once he made into the trees, the stars showed clearly overhead. He leaned up
against a massive tree within the shadows of the Aran Forest. As he lay there
panting from the effort, he tried to seal the wound magically so that he could
begin the healing process. He closed his eyes and muttered a spell under his
ragged breath. The gaping hole in the small of his back closed up and looked
like there had never been ten arrows in it recently. The magical shield
vanished, and he lay there exhausted from the use of his magic. His body was
completely worn out from the effort it took to keep himself alive.  He could
steal energy from other living things, which process required strength he had
not recovered yet from his prolonged use of magic.

As
the moon appeared high in the sky above, Dükker used one last bit of magic to
conceal his presence. He used a simple spell that made his body blend in with
its surroundings. Once he had accomplished this task, he fell into a deep sleep
and did not wake for several days. He used his healing powers from time to time
while he slept in an effort to speed up the process. In all, he had laid there
for seven days straight before he had healed completely. When he had enough
courage to stand up, he winced from the lingering effects of his battle wound.
I
wonder what those orc generals have been up to while I have been otherwise
engaged.
He smiled at this thought and began to make his way through the
tall trees of the Aran Forest toward the gathering place in Nodin on the other
side of the river. Hopefully they were still there and in one piece.

***

Commander
Fletcher Renar was in charge of the archers for General Sanjay’s army. They
served King Derek who ruled the forest kingdom of Aran. Fletcher’s archers were
some of the finest in all of Tuwa and were especially adept at finding high
places to give themselves the advantage in a fight or an ambush. He was charged
with protecting the borders of Aran from external foes. He had reported to
General Sanjay several days ago that there was an orc army of immense size
moving toward Tarisdell in the Black Forest. The general had relayed this vital
information to the king, and they had been preparing to go to the aid of their
elven brethren. While they were making their preparations, the commander
returned to report another, more disturbing sighting.

“General
Sanjay, I have seen the elven army being accompanied by a unified giant army
hastening toward the crossing at the southwestern edge of the Landen cliffs,”
reported the commander. “They were being pursued by that orc army we saw
previously, and they were in company with what appeared to be elves.”

“What? 
Are you certain that there were elves with them?” asked the general,
bewildered.

“Remember
that we had received intelligence that there was a division among the elves
some time ago, so this could be their army. I believe they refer to themselves
as the high elves,” King Derek reminded them.

“That
makes sense then. The elves must be retreating to Landen to take advantage of
the superior natural defenses. How big would you say that orc army was?  How
many high elves were with them?” asked the general. His question was directed
at Commander Fletcher, who immediately replied.

“I
would estimate that there are three orc armies that are roughly one hundred
thousand strong each. It appears that there are forty or fifty thousand high
elves accompanying them. They are all led by a dark elf who commands a powerful
brand of dark magic.”  Fletcher had a distraught look on his face as he had
said this. He could not help thinking that there was no way that their army
could take on such massive numbers.

“Well,
I am not too sure our hundred and fifty thousand troops would be able to handle
such numbers. However, I do believe we could assist our friends in their fight
against these treacherous forces. Commander Fletcher…” the king beckoned. “I
want you to take your regiments of archers and cut off any retreat. If a group
of orcs stays behind to build siege weapons, kill them all. Then report back to
me.”

“How
do you know that they would stay behind to make a siege works?” asked General
Sanjay.

“Think
of it this way: if you saw an orc army with massive amount of siege weapons and
towers, wouldn’t you do whatever it took to destroy them?” the king asked
wisely. “Of course you would. As a result of this, they would need to build a
siege works to replenish and repair their siege weapons.”

“I
see what you are getting at. So, Commander Fletcher, you will kill any orc that
remains behind in the forest, but bring the high elves, if possible, to us. Do
not harm any of them unless you have to. Maybe we could convert a few of them
back to who they were before they left the elven kingdom,” ordered the general.

“I
agree with the general. Please try to capture the high elves and bring them to
me. I will deal with them personally. Maybe we could save a few of them. Those
that do not change their ways will be put to death on the spot,” the king
declared grimly.

“I
will do as you have commanded,” Fletcher said with a bow to his king and a
salute to his general. He did an abrupt about-face and marched off to his post
on the northern border of the Aran Forest.

“So,
what is your plan of action?” the king asked his general coolly.

“I
will take our army north like we had planned previously. I will depart from the
western most part of Aran before heading north so that I do not come across the
orcs and give away our position. Hopefully they will be bent on pursuing the
elves and giants into Landen,” replied the general.

“My
guess is that they will go to Nodin to garner the support of the rock trolls. I
do not believe that all of the rock trolls would have left their homes to fight
against our friend King Jarvis.”  The king had a thoughtful look in his eyes as
he said this.

“You
are probably right. I will take our army up to the city of Tarisdell and leave
a small detachment there to defend the city. Then I will head east toward the middle
of the western cliffs. I plan on using ladders to scale those sheer rock walls.
I will send word to Landen beforehand to allow us entry into their country. I
recommend having our archers remain behind in the forest until we have routed
these fiends.”  The general’s shaven head reflected the sun as it broke through
the tops of the trees. He was stroking his long white goatee as he stood there
conversing with his king.

The
king nodded in agreement and said nothing more. General Sanjay knew Derek well
enough to know that he was dismissed. He bowed low before his king and then
left. He went directly to where the army was being assembled. He wanted to move
out by nightfall. The king stood stalk still while he watched his general walk
off. He was consumed with so many thoughts that he believed that his head was
going to split in two. Finally he turned around and entered the jet-black gates
that allowed entry into the capital city Agaroth. The entire city was
surrounded by these thick black walls that were as smooth as glass. They had
some strange magical properties to them that effectively dissuaded anyone from
attempting to climb them or even touch them. No army had ever successfully
compromised these stout bulwarks, and those that tried never made it home to
tell the tale. Those who actually touched the enchanted barriers went mad and
ended up killing themselves.  Only the outward facing part of the wall was
deadly, so the people of Aran felt very secure within their capital.

King
Derek Udrugi was a stout man whose blues eyes could calm anyone who looked into
them. He was a peace-loving person who was not afraid to use any means
necessary to defend his people and his beloved forest. He was one of those rare
monarchs that truly loved his people and served them rather than having them
attending to his needs. As a result of this form of rule, there was not one
person without a place to live or anyone who did not have something warm to
eat. He had the uncanny ability to encourage people to be their best selves. King
Derek was as good of a person as could be hoped for, but even he had moments
where his faith in other people wavered.