The Guardians: Book One of the Restoration Series (38 page)

No new goblins came through the fallen gates, and it didn’t take long to finish off the goblins that were left inside the walls. Murleen soon found herself in the middle of the defenders, with the moans of the injured the only sound to be heard.

Murleen, although confused by the sudden withdrawal, didn’t waste the opportunity. “Get the wounded back behind the lines!” She hollered at the soldiers around her. She was helping move the wounded back, when the shouts of the soldiers alerted her. She sprinted to the gates to see what was happening, saying a silent prayer as she ran.

Flare and Ollel moved quickly through the deserted road. So far they had not seen any goblins, and he was starting to worry. If the goblins avoided detection for any amount of time then they would have provided a serious distraction to the defenders.

They were moving through the street, when a shout came from several streets over.

“Quickly!
Follow me!” Flare said.

They sprinted through two alleys, and emerged onto a narrow street where a battle was taking place. Two defenders had stumbled across two of the goblins.

One of the defenders was lying on the ground in a growing pool of
his own
blood. Flare barely even noticed that he was not a soldier.

The second defender had his back against the wall of a building, trying to hold off the goblins. He was holding his own, probably because he was a soldier.

The goblins had their backs to Flare, as they fought against the lone soldier. He drew his sword and sprinted at the nearest goblin. The goblin never saw him coming, and Flare ran him through with his sword.

He pulled his sword free just as the other goblin stunned the soldier with a blow to the face. The goblin then brought his scimitar down on the soldier’s head; instantly killing him.

Flare and the remaining goblin faced off.

He held his sword, with a relaxed two handed grip, straight away from him pointing toward the goblin. He slowly moved away from the wall.

With a vicious roar, the goblin charged, swinging a massive overhead swing.

Flare wisely didn’t try to block the swing; instead he just deflected it away from him. Trying to take advantage of the goblin's momentary loss of balance, he tried to quickly slip his sword into the goblin's gut.

The goblin was too fast, and slapped Flare’s sword away with his scimitar.

Now, Flare was momentarily off balance, and the goblin pressed his advantage. His scimitar was too far away from Flare’s body, so the goblin simply punched Flare in the face.

Flare was stunned by the powerful blow and fell to the ground. He lost his grip on his sword, and scrambled to find it.

Looking up, Flare saw the goblin raise his scimitar over his head and start the swing that end Flare’s life.

With a shout, Ollel charged into the fight. Ferociously, he swung his ax. Once, twice, three times the goblin deflected blows from the young man. The boy simply didn’t stand a chance against the monster. The goblin deflected a swing from the young man, and then ran him through with the scimitar.

To his dying day Flare would remember the look of surprise and pain that registered on Ollel’s face.

Time seemed to slow to a miniscule pace. Flare watched as the goblin slowly raised his scimitar above his head. The goblin had a two hand grip on the scimitar, as he prepared for a final blow. Only then did Flare notice the blood dripping from the scimitar.
Blood that belonged to Ollel.
Blood that would be on Flare’s hands forever.

All the death and pressure, that Flare had endured, seemed to explode from within him. The blood seemed to be a catalyst for all the anger and pain that Flare had faced. He felt a tremendous force building up within him, and he felt like he was on the verge of exploding.

The hate and anger, bordering on the brink of madness, erupted from him in a primal blast.

The goblin was lifted off his feet, and flung back into the stone wall behind him.

For a split second, Flare thought it was an illusion, but the sound of the goblin's bones snapping on impact convinced him that it was real.

He blinked his eyes, and looked at the crumpled bloody mess that had been a goblin. ‘What happened?’ Flare wondered. He slowly stood up, looking around for an explanation.

“I’m sorry, Ollel. You deserved a better fate than this.” Flare said to the young man. Tears came to his eyes, “Thank you for saving my life.”

Flare turned from the carnage, wiped his eyes, and began looking for the other defenders. As he walked, he wondered how the fight was going at the gates.

Murleen reached the courtyard before the gates, and slid to a halt.

Scared Defenders were running and stumbling away from the gates and into the fort. Coming through the gates were giants. They dwarfed both the gates and the goblins and humans around them.

Giants appear basically human, except for their size. These giants were hill giants. Hill giants are normally between twelve to fourteen feet tall, and weigh between four hundred and six hundred pounds. To put it simply, they are ferocious fighters.

The leader was a monster. He was fifteen feet tall and had to weigh six hundred pounds. He was wearing armor that was made of thick leather, and was armed with a massive club that had six-inch spikes protruding from the end. He had an iron helmet on his head, which was open in the front so that his face was visible.

Murleen watched as the leader came through the gates. Fear settled in her stomach, as she frantically tried to think of something to do.

The giant stopped inside the gate, and swung his club. The club slammed into a wounded soldier, who had been trying to get away.

Murleen felt her stomach turn as she watched the young soldier die.
‘
I got to stop this!’ She thought frantically.

“Are you all cowards?” The giant leader shouted at the fleeing soldiers. “Is there anybody with enough courage to fight me?”

Murleen, with sword in hand, stepped forward and quietly answered, “I will.”

It took Flare a few minutes to locate another group of soldiers, and he joined with them. Together, they continued the search for more goblins.

They slowly worked their way back toward the western wall, looking and listening the whole way for any sign of the hiding goblins.

They saw and heard nothing.

Flare was once again becoming nervous, since they had not seen any sign of the goblins since his battle with the first two. Not for the last time, he wondered about the fight at the gates.

Moving through a side street, they heard the cling and clang of a battle. At first, he thought it was from the gates, but he then realized that it was northwest of his current position.

Together, Flare and the defenders rushed to where the battle was taking place.

They arrived at the battle, which was taking place in the shadow of the western wall, and he was both alarmed and relieved by the battle taking place before him. The goblins had banded together and were fighting the defenders in a pitched battle. Two goblins lay dead on the ground, but four more were still fighting. Unfortunately, the goblins were fighting quite well.
 

Six defenders were lying on the ground in their own blood. Flare couldn’t quite see if they were alive or not, but as bad as it sounded, he was more worried about the soldiers who were still fighting. Nine defenders were fighting against the goblins, although to Flare’s dismay, four of the nine defenders were townspeople.

The goblins had their backs to the western wall, daring the defenders to come within range of their scimitars. The goblins, seeing reinforcements approaching, decided it was time to take the offensive, and they charged the defenders.

The battle quickly turned into a disorganized melee.

Flare rushed towards the closest goblin. The goblin swung his scimitar at Flare, but Flare deflected it easily.

Flare then jabbed at the goblin, hoping that the goblin hadn’t recovered from the swing, and that he would catch him off guard. Instead, the goblin deflected Flare’s blow, and then surprised him by stabbing Flare’s left arm with a knife that the goblin had hidden in his left hand. The stab wound wasn’t bad, as Flare had raised his left arm hoping to block the blow, but instead the knife had slid into his arm.

He jerked back, and at the same time lowered his sword. The goblin, sensing his advantage, jumped forward to try and end the fight.

Flare continued to back up, when all of a sudden the goblin dropped dead, with a sword sticking out of his back.

Flare looked around; dazed and confused. A soldier had saved him by running the goblin through. The soldier had come to his aid and stabbed the goblin in the back.

Almost immediately, another goblin ran the soldier through with a scimitar.

The soldier dropped to the ground dead. Flare hadn’t even been able to thank him for saving his life. Disgust settled on him at the thought of all the lives that were being thrown away.

The goblin started to withdraw his sword from the body of the soldier, but Flare jumped toward him and brought a massive swing down on the goblins head, which exploded in a bloody gooey mess.

Flare knelt down on the ground and was sick. After several moments, he felt a little better, and he looked up to see how the fight went.

The goblins were all dead, as were quite a few of the defenders. There were four defenders still alive, all of them soldiers; several of them had also gotten sick.

“We killed two goblins before we got here.” Flare said to the soldiers. “With the six we killed here, that leaves one more to find.”

One of the soldiers spoke up, “But sir, we killed one several streets over. If there are only nine, then they’re all gone.”

“Are you sure?” Flare asked, excitedly.

“Yes sir. I helped kill him myself.” The soldier answered.

“All right.
I want all of you to check the soldiers and townspeople. If any of them are alive, then take them to Kara. I have to get back to the gates.” Flare said. Wrapping his bloody left arm, he ran toward the battle at the gates.

The giant let out a long deep laugh. “Out of all these humans, the only one who is man enough to fight me is a woman?!” The giant said mockingly. “Tell me woman, what is your name?”

“Murleen, and you will not enter this fort as long am I am alive.” She answered with a defiance she didn’t feel. Gripping her sword with both hands, she stepped forward.

“Well, little woman.
The name of the chieftain that will end your life is Antol-delgath.” The giant hefted his club and strode forward to meet Murleen.

The giant quickly raised the club over his head and brought it down in a powerful over hand swing. Murleen dove to the left, and rolling over popped back onto her feet. The giant’s club slammed into the dirt, and Murleen jumped forward trying to stab the giant. He jerked sideways away from Murleen, but her sword still caught him on his leg above the knee. A thin line of blood appeared to be oozing through the cut. The giant whipped his club toward Murleen, but she had already backed up out of range.

“The man who gets first blood was a woman this time.” Murleen said.

The giant only smiled at her, “You can have first blood, woman. I will have last blood.” The giant readjusted his grip on the club, and moved toward Murleen. This time he approached a little more cautiously. Suddenly, he drove toward her. He swung his club horizontally, and Murleen simply plunged to the ground and the club sailed over her head. Then, quickly rolling over she thrust her sword straight up into the air, hoping to cut the giant again. He was not there, however. Seeing her move, the giant had jumped back.

She slowly got back to her feet, facing the giant. She was feeling better, since she was holding her own. She could tell that the giant was frustrated. ‘Well, let’s keep him frustrated.’

The giant feinted to Murleen’s left, and then reversed himself and swung at her right side. Murleen had initially started to go right, but then when the giant reversed himself, she quickly tried to go back to her left. The move was correct, but she slipped in the dirt, and went down. She landed hard on the ground, and the sword flew out of her hand. She rolled over frantically looking for her sword, but the giant didn’t give her the chance to find it. He swung an immense overhand swing, and caught Murleen on the back, halfway between her waist and her shoulders.

Even if the spikes hadn’t impaled her, the force of the blow easily broke her back. She was dead even before the giant finished his swing.

The giant hefted his club back up, and rested it back on his shoulders. He kicked Murleen’s body, adding one final insult to the defeat.

Flare jogged back toward the gates; his arm aching slightly as he ran. He emerged from the northern street just in time to see the giant's swing and Murleen's death.

“NO!!” Flare screamed. Time seemed to stand still. The beating of his heart seemed like major explosions ringing in his ears. Everything in his sight receded except the body of Murleen lying in the dirt. Tears streamed down his face as the guilt of her death rushed over him.