DemonWars Saga Volume 1 (67 page)

"You could have gotten away," said Elbryan, "to the south."

Cric started to respond, eagerly and angrily, it seemed to Elbryan, but the tall man went silent as Paulson stormed back over to the fire.

"And I'm not liking smelly goblins!" the large man snarled. "I mean to get me enough goblin ears so that a single gold piece bounty'll put me in a big house with a dozen serving wenches on a hundred acres o' land!"

Elbryan nodded and smiled, trying to calm the brute, but Paulson only kicked the dirt again and stormed away. It was more than any bounty, the ranger knew. And, given the fact that Cric and Chipmunk had remained, it was more than the tale of a child lost. These three, for all their faults and all their vocal protests, carried some degree of humanity within them. Whatever complaints Cric and Chipmunk might offer, they had remained in the area because of the refugees, out of simple compassion.

The next day, Elbryan set the refugees on their way for Dundalis, if possible, though he gave Paulson several alternate choices, caves and sheltered vales. Then the ranger set off, riding hard for End-o'-the-World, looking for answers or hints of what might yet come, and hoping to find more refugees.

The forest was perfectly quiet as he neared the town. Still, he saw no smoke blackening the sky. He left Symphony in the forest and moved tree to tree, crossing past goblin sentries undetected, at last finding a good vantage point on the edge of the village.

Goblins, dwarves, and giants swarmed in the place, moving as if this were their home. Elbryan saw the bodies, dozens of dead, human and humanoid, thrown in a ditch on the western edge of town, but this was not as the sack of Dundalis had been. ,The buildings showed very little damage; none had been burned. Did the humanoid army mean to settle here? Or, as the ranger thought much more likely, did they mean to use End-o'-the-World as a base camp, a supply depot?

Elbryan didn't like the prospects. From End-o'-the-World, this force could swing south and then east, cutting off the roads for any people fleeing Weedy Meadow or Dundalis, the next obvious targets. And if the humanoids didn't sack the town, that indicated they meant to continue on.

Elbryan recalled the image of the vast encampment. The humanoids could indeed advance, and the ranger had to wonder if all the men of Honce-the-Bear could even slow them.

He could do nothing here, so he thought, and he turned to leave, picking the course that would get him back through the forest to Symphony.

Then the ranger heard the cry, a child's cry, from a house nearby.

Elbryan squatted low and considered his options. He could hardly leave such a desperate wail, but if he was caught here, then the information he possessed might never reach Weedy Meadow or Dundalis. There was more at stake here than his own life.

But the cry sounded again, seconded by another whimper, that of a woman.

Elbryan dashed across the clearing between two houses, held still long enough to survey the area, then ran on to the house in question.

"A meal for a dog!" he heard inside, a harsh voice, like that of the powrie he had killed. "You get me some proper food or I'll eat the arm from your ugly son!"

The woman cried out again, followed closely by the sound of a sharp slap, then of a body falling hard to the floor. Elbryan moved along the side of the house, finally spotting a small window.

The powrie advanced on the sobbing woman, its hand raised to deliver another heavy blow. It stopped, though, a couple of feet from its intended victim, looking down at the woman curiously.

And she looked at the dwarf, not understanding until the powrie toppled forward, an arrow deep in its back. The woman looked past it, her eyes wide, to the window, where stood the ranger, motioning to her and to her son to be quick.

The three got from house to house, then across the short clearing to the woods. As they entered the shelter of the trees, they heard a scream from the town.

Elbryan looked back upon End-o'-the-World to see another powrie come running out of the house, shouting that there was an archer about.

"Run!" Elbryan whispered urgently to his companions. They scrambled through the woods desperately, hearing horns from the town. Elbryan realized that the goblin sentries would soon be all about them, swanning about the forest.

He saw the shapes of two such goblins paralleling the movements of his group. Up came Hawkwing, and two shots later, the immediate threat was ended.

But there were more, many more, and the pursuit from the town was organized and systematic, calls from sentries gradually narrowing the possible area.

The three came upon Symphony, the big stallion pawing the ground and snorting warnings. Elbryan hoisted the woman onto Symphony's back, into the saddle, then placed the boy behind her.

"Tell the centaur what you have seen in End-o'-the-World," he instructed the woman, who only shook her head as if she didn't understand. "Tell Bradwarden
— remember that name — and all the others that the goblins will likely move south and east to cut off their escape." The ranger's tone was adamant, so forceful that the woman finally nodded her consent. "I will join you as soon as I can."

"Run," the ranger instructed the horse, "all the way to the grove to Bradwarden!"

"What of you?" the woman asked, grabbing the ranger's hand. "How will you get away from this place?" Elbryan had no time for answers. He pulled his hand free, and Symphony leaped away, thundering down the trails, slamming down two goblins that foolishly jumped in his path to intercept.

Elbryan watched for a moment, confident that the woman and boy would be safe enough with Symphony carrying them. Then the ranger turned his attention to his own predicament, looked about at the many shapes moving among the shadows of the trees, and listened to the many calls of goblins and dwarves and the fearsome bellows of giants.

They were readying to attack Weedy Meadow. Elbryan knew that, could hear it in the shriek of every bird, in the movements of squirrels, agitated by the presence of such numbers, by the thunder of a giant's step or the rolling war machines, by the croaks of powrie generals, the eager whines of bloodthirsty goblins.

They were readying to attack Weedy Meadow, and Avelyn and Pony had not been able to convince the townsfolk to leave — not many, anyway, though now with the storm cloud that was the goblin army hovering about the village, many of the folk began to recognize their folly.

From a high vantage point some two miles south of the village, Elbryan saw the villagers shoring up walls, scrambling about in preparation. None of it would make any difference, the ranger knew. The only hope for Weedy Meadow's four score people was to get out of the village and far away. And with the goblins moving in from all sides, the only possibility of that was with the help of the ranger and his friends.

But Elbryan had so few to work with. Besides Pony and Avelyn, who were somewhere down amid that scrambling group, Elbryan had only the three trappers and Bradwarden. The refugees from End-o'-the-World Were nowhere near ready for another fight; half of them hadn't even uttered a word yet. The one advantage on the ranger's side was his knowledge of the region surrounding Weedy Meadow. The village was nestled in a land of steep hillsides and narrow valleys, where a hundred sneaking people might pass unnoticed only a few dozen yards away. This was a place of natural noises: running streams, cackling birds, and chattering animals. A living forest, with enough pine and spruce to offer cover even now, with winter fast holding the land.

"What're ye thinking?" Bradwarden asked, moving up quietly beside the ranger.

"We have to get them out."

"Not so easy a task, I'd be betting," replied the centaur, "else Avelyn and Pony'd have them far away already." Bradwarden paused, watching Elbryan's pained features as the man continued to stare to the north. The centaur understood what the man was feeling, the sense of his own loss those years before and the helplessness now in the face of a repeat of that disaster.

Bradwarden had watched Elbryan closely these last two days, since he had evaded the monsters about End-o'-the-World and had crawled out of the forest. Always had the ranger seemed stoic and often stern, but never as grim as now.

"We'll get Pony and Avelyn, at least," the centaur offered, "and some others, I'm not doubting. Most won't go. Ye know that. They'll be staying with their homes until they see the enemy, then they'll know their doom. Then, it'll be too late for them."

Elbryan cocked an eyebrow. "Will it?" he asked simply.

Bradwarden didn't quite understand. Even if Elbryan and the trappers, all the refugees from End-o'-the-World, and all the folk of Dundalis went in to bolster the defenses of Weedy Meadow, the village would be flattened within an hour. Elbryan knew that as surely as did the centaur, and yet, the sudden gleam of determination on Elbryan's face left the centaur believing that the man had some plan.

"There," Elbryan said, pointing to a position just east of the village, to a pair of two-thousand-foot-tall mountains, their steep sides white with snow, crossed by the dark lines of many leafless trees.

"The valley between those hills is full of boulders and pine groves," the ranger explained. "Cover enough, if we move the folk quickly." Elbryan looked down and patted Symphony's muscled neck, knowing full well that the horse not only understood the plan but would help facilitate it.

"Ye'd choose the low ground for yer escape?" the centaur asked incredulously.

"Too many trees," Elbryan answered without hesitation as the puzzle sorted out before him. "They will get no clear shots or spear throws from above."

"They'll come down like a mass o' swooping hawks," Bradwarden protested.

Elbryan smiled wickedly as he considered those steep hillsides, all of varied angles and deep with virgin snow. He thought of Avelyn and the magic stones and some of the properties the monk had explained to him. He thought of Paulson, Cric, and Chipmunk, and their undeniable skills. "Will they?" he said calmly, his tone so even and assured that the centaur sucked in his breath and argued no more.

"How did you get in here?" Pony asked breathlessly, grabbing Elbryan in a hug as soon as she spotted him entering the common room at Weedy Meadow. "We know the goblins are all about."

"Thicker than you believe," Elbryan agreed, returning the hug tenfold. It felt so good to him, so warm and fulfilling, that a very large part of the stoic ranger wanted to whisk Pony away into the night, to run far away from this place and its troubles and just live peacefully and lovingly.

He could not do that, could not forsake his duty and the destiny that he had been shown by the Touel'alfar. For every thought of running away with Pony, the ranger held five memories of the tragedy that had befallen his own family and community.

Avelyn bounded over to the pair a moment later, the boisterous monk seeming not so animated now. "Ah, but they wouldn't go," he wailed at Elbryan.

"They would not listen to our words, and even now, with darkness looming in the forest, many insist that they will stay and fight."

"Any who choose to stay and fight will surely die," Elbryan said, loud enough for several nearby townsfolk to hear. A pair of grizzly men at a table near the common room entrance stood up, one kicking the table away as he rose.

They glared at Elbryan for a long moment, but finally walked away, moving to the other side of the large hall.

Undaunted, Elbryan moved to the long table that served as the bar, and hopped atop it. "I tell you this only one time," the ranger proclaimed, and the score of men and half that number of women in the room looked his way, most disdainfully but some too fearful to show any outrage. "I have just crawled through the ranks of our enemy, deep lines of goblins and giants and powrie dwarves."

"Powries?" one woman echoed.

"Bah, a tale o' lies," someone answered from one corner.

"Your only chance will be to get far from this place," Elbryan said bluntly, tossing the bloodred beret to the floor. "And even now, escape will nor be easy. I will take those that I can with me tonight, soon after the moon has set." The ranger paused and glanced around, locking stares with each of the patrons, letting them see the intensity of his green eyes, the determination on his face. "As for the rest of you, your window through the monstrous force will be small and any hesitation will cost you dearly."

"Who are you to come in here and give orders?" one man demanded. Agreeing protests rang from every corner of the room.