| Fantasy Fiction posted December 27, 2022 | Chapters: |
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Princes and thieves come together.
A chapter in the book Lords Of The Glen
I Can Do As I Please
by Douglas Goff
| Background In the last chapter the dwarven fortress at Gilead continued to hold back the waves of Black Eye Tribe goblins. Other tribes began trickling into the Southern Glen, where they encountered elves. |
“You gonna throw it, or stand there caressing it all day?” the young man with short black hair laughed.
Captain Prince Classius stared at the large, bald, muscular, black man holding the spear. The big man only grinned at him and tossed the spear, almost effortlessly, at a wooden pole thirty yards away. A direct hit! Captain Prince Classius shook his head.
“You beat me again!” the eighteen-year-old son of High King Tronin moaned.
“How many times will you burden yourself with defeat young prince?” the huge black man goaded.
“I’ll beat you one day Spear Master Borgu, but for now, I must return you to your cell,” Classius answered.
The two men left the walled-in courtyard and entered the jail house. Prince Classius took Borgu to his cell and secured the iron door. As he turned to go, the big black man called out to him through the small, barred window near the top of the door.
“Thank you, young prince. I know that you could get into trouble for letting me practice,” Borgu said.
“Nonsense,” Prince Classius replied. “I am captain of this jail house. I can do as I please . . . well . . . as long as we don’t get caught. Besides, the Pirate War was a long time ago. You’ve served enough time in my opinion.”
Borgu grinned, “You’re a good man, but I was pirate Tutog’s second-in-command. I’ve done many bad things and am getting what I’ve earned. You’ve shown me the good side of things, but I’ve much to atone for.”
“Hey, when am I getting out of here pretty boy?” a female voice called from a nearby cell.
It came from an attractive, spunky women with curly black hair. She was short, just under five feet tall, but mouthy. She had arrived just yesterday. Captain Prince Classius found himself wondering if it was professional of him to think that she was cute.
“Hey, are ya’ gonna answer me?” the woman, Kara, asked.
“The Justice Minister’ll see you tomorrow,” Classius answered.
“How much time am I looking at? It was only a cheap ring, ya’ know? I didn’t really mean to keep it. I was only looking at it. Honest,” Kara said with a wink and twinkle in her eye.
“You’re known to be an expert thief and we’ve been looking for you for a long time. I can hardly believe that you botched such an easy snatch,” Prince Classius said with a laugh.
“If I’d a known that I was going to be guarded by such a handsome prince, I would’ve botched one much quicker,” she giggled out.
“I think it’s more likely that you’re losing your touch,” Captain Prince Classius responded, blushing at her flirting, but enjoying the moment.
“Losing my touch? Come over here and I’ll show you how much I’ve lost my touch! I could steal High King Tronin’s royal seal if I wanted to!” Kara boasted, now a bit riled up.
Wow, she really is cute when she’s angry, Classius thought. Those wild light blue eyes and pouty full red lips. I can’t imagine that she is any older than twenty. He looked over and saw Borgu chuckling through the small cell door window.
“What are you laughing at?” Captain Prince Classius asked, feeling his face flush red with the realization that all fifteen of the other prisoners in the nearby cells were probably listening in.
“Nothing young prince, just enjoying the show.” The black man laughed warmly.
Classius hurried off, wondering why the short curvy girl with the smart mouth bothered him so much? She is nothing but trouble anyways, and the Justice Minister is going to lock her up and throw away the key.
Still, he couldn’t get her out of his mind, even while he turned his keys over to the oncoming guard shift. Captain Prince Classius rushed from the jail house. He had to hurry. He wanted to get some sleep because he was meeting with his father in the morning although he wasn’t sure why, but sensed that it was important.
Maybe it’s about my Quest? I’m supposed to be leaving next week, but with the war starting, I’m certain that I won’t be going anywhere near Timber Lake Mountains. He couldn’t have been more wrong.
* * *
Back to the north, Patrol Leader Lord Fenton and Lord Cass raced forward, rapidly closing the distance between them and the three Flesh Eater archers that were fleeing.
The yule riders had surprised the trio of goblins on Frontier Road and were now chasing them across a large field that lay to the west. The goblin underlings were heading straight for a small grove of pine trees that stood in the center of the field.
“Cut them off before they reach the pines!” Lord Fenton shouted at Lord Cass. They urged their mounts forward, causing the animals to snort and breathe heavy with the exertion. They pulled ahead of the other ten men in their patrol.
The two lords raced past the three running goblins and swung back upon them just before they reached the trees. Wait . . .why are they smiling? Lord Fenton was surprised, watching their red pupiled eyes glinting with joy.
Lord Cass fell first, toppling from his yule into the field’s grass, with four or five goblin arrows protruding from his back. His yule quickly followed with another half dozen arrows peppering its side.
Lord Fenton spun his yule about, seeing that nearly twenty archers from the Flesh Eater Tribe had been lying in wait in the small grove. He instinctively ducked behind his large green shield, just in time. Several loud thuds pounded against it from a second volley of goblin arrows.
Lord Fenton felt a sharp pain in the middle of his back. He had forgotten about the three goblins behind him! He charged at them, trampling the one who had just put an arrow in his back and then he cut down the second with his sword. Where did the third one go?
Another volley of goblin arrows, fired from the pine grove, brought his yule down. The animal fell on Lord Fenton, breaking his leg and cracking several of his ribs, causing a pained scream to escape from his lips. Lord Fenton tried to get up, but his fractured leg was pinned under his dead mount. I’m in trouble.
Now he saw the third goblin. Its head appeared over the side of his dead yule, staring into his eyes with its red pupils. “You dies now!” the green creature snarled at the man in broken human, as it took aim with its small crude bow.
Lord Fenton frantically searched for his sword, and realized that it had been thrown several feet away, when he had fallen. Then the goblin arrow sprang forward.
Lord Fenton didn’t see the goblin topple off the dead yule, shot by his archers. Nor did he see his captain, a man named Goodman, lead the rest of his patrol into the pine grove, killing all of the Flesh Eaters within. Lord Fenton didn’t see any of this, because he had passed into darkness.
* * *
Death hadn’t abandoned Gilead. The Black Eye archers came in force, numbering over a hundred. They rushed towards Silver Helm Hall, and after a brief exchange of missile fire, had cleared the crossbow dwarves from the roof.
Next came the warriors with the black circles around their eyes. At least a hundred goblin fighters rushed through the wide-opened doorway, flooding into the first floor of the hall.
They were led by an older, odd looking yorg, that had a black tuft of hair sticking out from its forehead. This was odd because all goblins were bald, with the exception of the Bloody Thrasher Tribe, who had red mohawks. The “tuft” yorg carried a black boomerang with red stripes.
Three dwarves hidden near the entrance fired their crossbows into three goblin underlings. The “tuft” yorg launched his boomerang which struck first one, then two, and finally the third dwarf, before returning to its owner’s hand.
All three dwarves fell over dead. The “tuft” yorg organized his goblins into groups of ten and ordered, “Find and kill all within the hall!” The underlings began rushing into the nearby rooms.
The first melee started when a group of Black Eyes advanced across the main room. A band of twelve dwarves had hidden themselves behind some overturned tables near the far end of the chamber. They jumped up, killing the nearest group of ten goblins with their crossbows.
Another group of goblin archers returned fire, killing two of the dwarves. This was followed by a group of goblin warriors rushing the dwarves, who managed to kill five of them with short swords, before they were overwhelmed.
The next skirmish was fought at the bottom of the stairs. The four dwarves defending there killed another handful of goblins, before they too fell. The bottom floor had been taken.
The goblin leader with the black tuft of hair wasted no time in leading his underlings up the stairs to the second level. Only two dwarves were found hiding on that level and were quickly dispatched. The third floor was empty.
The Black Eyes advanced to the roof, where they encountered a ring of dwarves blocking the top of the stairs. Goblin archers came forward and exchanged fire with the crossbow dwarves. The dwarves accounted for two goblins each but fell to the enemy’s superior numbers.
The remaining fifty goblins poured onto the rooftop and engaged the last of the dwarves defending the far corner. They had retreated to the roof from the second floor when the fighting erupted.
Most of them had been wounded the previous day and were slaughtered quickly. One stout dwarf managed to take down a couple of the enemy before the black boomerang with the red stripes cracked his skull. When these last dwarves fell, so too fell Silver Helm Hall.
The goblins had lost about seventy troops in the attack. The older, battle-hardened, black “tuft” yorg raised the Black Eye tribal flag from a pole in the center of the roof. Then he handed the flag of the dwarves, a black castle in the center of a white background, to an underling who quickly burnt it. The “tuft” yorg let out an incredibly powerful aggressive growl, signaling their victory.
Ephraim the black glanced towards Silver Helm Hall, curious about the goblin’s new capture, but was apparently content to remain where he was. The black dragon spent the rest of the day spewing acid on the nearby walls every now and then, widening the gaps on both sides of his perch.
King Sturdy Axe was also surveying the goblin’s capture, with mixed feelings of anger and grief. He signaled his catapult crew, and they began launching rocks at various groups of goblins, who still numbered in the thousands surrounding Gilead.
A group of another hundred goblins began to approach the Main Gate gap, apparently preparing to attack another hall. The catapult quickly zeroed in on this large group, and after several direct hits that killed around sixty goblins, the formation broke and ran back into the woods.
The catapult fired a couple more shots, then fell silent when the entire goblin force had retreated to the woods. That left only the goblins within Gilead, and King Sturdy Axe was not willing to fire inside of the castle, yet.
The dwarf king looked back towards the dragon. The creature was staring at the catapult, with an intent look on his face. The black dragon stared so long, that King Sturdy Axe was sure that it was going to attack. Then the dragon abruptly broke its gaze, curled up, and appeared to go to sleep.
The old dwarf wiped his sweaty brow, thinking dark thoughts. The dragon is very aware of the catapult and what it can do. Perhaps the nearby ballista kept it at bay. Regardless, neither of these war machines will last long if the beast decides to attack them.
The tired dwarf king laid down on his bedroll, as he was now sleeping on the roof. He quickly fell into a fitful sleep, haunted by dreams of what was to come, aware that each day more of his kingdom would slip away. King Sturdy Axe did not sleep well.
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