Chapter Three :: Battlefield

IN GOOD conditions the journey to Valley Gate, the northern-most outpost in the Forest of Llaer, could be made in two hours on horseback taking the broad forest road. In the darkness and blinding rain of the storm, however, it took King Torin and his company the better part of three hours to arrive. The King brought with him a regiment of five hundred riders and foot soldiers, all that could be gathered on such short notice. Above the road Talagan led some three hundred archers along the swifter tree-road, stepping deftly from branch to branch as the trees stretched and twisted to aid their progress.

Gedin rode at his father’s side with the two other Healers, Lord Selros and Lady Nimue. Each of them carried a Healer’s satchel at their right side and the two swords of a warrior at their left, ready both to defend and to heal.

As they neared the battlefield, sounds of the engagement reached their keen elven ears: cries and shouts of elves mingled with the harsh screeching of the mountain goblins. They increased their pace as much as they could. Lesser horses would have slipped and stumbled on the road which was slick with mud and increasingly steep; but the sure-footed Elven steeds pushed steadily onwards. The trees began to thin, and the terrain grew hillier as they approached the place where the Forest of Llaer met the valley that surrounded it.

At last they crested the final hill and paused to survey the situation. The battlefield lay before them, an enormous open clearing between the edge of Llaer and the steep valley walls. Sparses copses of mountain pines dotted the edges, and in the distance could be seen the dark, craggy mountains that hid from view the ruins of Talbryn to the north.

Talagan and his archers had already arrived and joined the fight; Gedin could sense his brother’s warrior-spirit blazing even before he caught a fleeting glimpse of the pale golden hair. Grating, high-pitched shrieks rent the air as the goblins were trapped between the hail of arrows and the wall of swords that was Captain Sekei’s regiment. The crude metal armor of the dwarfish, disfigured creatures was no match for Elven weapons, and they began to fall by the score.

However, as many as fell, more took their place; there was a seemingly endless stream of the goblins, leaping down from trees and clambering ungracefully down the sheer valley walls. King Torin’s face was grim as he issued orders and then turned to Gedin.

“Gedin. You and the Healers are to keep to the sidelines of the battle and set up a safe place to tend to the injured. Take with you Ailin, Conleth, and Rhona for protection.” He nodded to three skilled warriors who saluted and came to stand by Gedin’s side. “Be wary, for more goblins may be in the trees nearby.”

“As you wish, my Lord.” Gedin nodded and turned his horse away, only to be stopped by his father’s hand on his shoulder. Startled, he looked up to meet Torin’s calm grey gaze.

“Stay safe, my son,” said the Elven-king softly.

Despite the circumstances, Gedin’s heart leaped, as it always did when he heard those words. He gave a small smile. “And you, father.”

With a returning smile and a gentle squeeze of Gedin’s shoulder, Torin nudged his prancing horse forward. Drawing his curved long-sword, he held it up so that its single sharp edge shone through the rain. “Forward, Elves of Llaer!” he shouted. “Eyaaaaaah!”

As the gathered Elves echoed the ancient battlecry, King Torin led them charging down the slope to meet the dark army below.

Gedin was already leading the two Healers down around the edge of the clearing, casting out his warrior’s senses to detect any goblins hiding closeby. He halted beneath a large, spreading elm that stood at the farthest eastern side of the battlefield, far from any other trees. After making sure that no goblins hid within its branches, Gedin dismounted and, with Lord Selros and Lady Nimue, began to set up a place to tend the wounded.

Several hours passed. The rain did not abate, nor did the battle. The goblins were cunning, and tenacious besides, and though the Elves clearly had the advantage of both numbers and skill, the dark creatures refused to retreat. With their three warrior guards keeping watch around their infirmary tent, Gedin and the other two Healers were kept busy caring for the injured, the number of whom was steadily increasing as the battle went on. Only few of the wounds were mortal, however, and from what Gedin could see even fewer Elves had been killed outright.

As he worked, Gedin kept one eye on the battlefield through the tent opening, which was pinned back for easy entrance, and kept alert for any goblins straying too close to the healing area. Despite the darkness his sharp Elven eyes still caught glimpses of the dark golden hair and shining sword of his foster-father in the melee, and though he had lost sight of him Talagan’s warrior-spirit was still a brilliant, pale flame in his mind’s eye, assuring Gedin of his safety.

A cry from Rhona, one of the guards, caused Gedin to look up swiftly from his survey of the battlefield. “’Ware! From the trees!”

Gedin followed the warrioress’s gaze to the copse of trees that lay far to their right. A score of goblins had separated from the others and were moving toward them in their awkward but swift bow-legged gait, screeching in delight: far more than could be dealt with by only their three guards.

Gedin hurried outside the tent, where he was immediately forced to duck in order to avoid being hit by one of their poison-tipped darts. “Eyah! Protect the wounded!” he shouted, leaping forward and drawing his long-sword. He sensed rather than saw Lady Nimue do the same beside him, and he knew that Lord Selros stood on guard behind them. Tawny-haired Ailin glanced quickly at them as if to protest, but thought better of it and nodded instead.

A thrown dagger from Nimue took the first goblin in the face, and it fell with a squeal. Gedin spared a moment to admire her aim before the rest of the goblins were upon them.

It seemed an easy victory - all three of the Healers had been trained to defend themselves, and the three guards were some of Torin’s most skilled warriors - but as they finished off the first group they saw with dismay that more were coming, alerted by the screeches of their comrades.

Gedin flicked the sickly dark blood off his sword and mentally counted the approaching goblins. “More than two-score,” murmured Lady Nimue grimly from beside him. He glanced sideways at her and nodded.

“Aye,” he agreed. “Just enough for a decent bit of sport, eh?”

Nimue looked at him in surprise, and he smiled briefly. At his other side Conleth and Ailin chuckled. Then the goblins reached them, and the clang of metal on metal rang out through the roar of the rain.

Gedin had sparred and practiced with his brother for years; he was not quite at Talagan’s level of skill, but he was still far above average. However, he soon found himself being pressed back by the tide of goblins, who had the advantage of sheer numbers. One managed to nick his shoulder, and just as he was finishing that one off he heard Selros grunt in pain. He glanced sideways to find the older Healer pulling out a rough goblin long-knife from his side.

“Lord Selros!” Gedin shouted, dispatching an approaching goblin with a quick slash of his sword. “You are wounded! Is it grave?”

Selros looked up with a smile that came out as more of a grimace. “Nay,” he said. “I am all right.” Pressing one hand to the wound he used the other to parry the thrust of a goblin sword and then spun to finish the creature.

Satisfied that Lord Selros was well enough for the moment, Gedin returned his full attention to the goblins. He blocked a wild slash aimed at his head and countered with a blow of his short-sword that sent the goblin reeling back with a screech.

“Eyaaaaaaaah!”

Gedin looked up in surprise as Talagan and a few dozen of his archers appeared suddenly and joined the fray. They had abandoned their bows for swords, and they cut a path through the goblins to stand at the Healers’ sides.

“Tali!” Gedin cried. Talagan greeted him with a grin before dispatching a goblin and glancing at Lord Selros. “My lord,” he called, “you appear to be injured. Please fall back, see to that wound of yours, and resume caring for the other injured – I believe that there are more in need of you.”

“As you wish, my lord!” Lord Selros was sensible enough not to argue. He fought off another goblin and withdrew.

With the addition of Talagan’s archers the odds rapidly changed in their favor, and the goblins were driven back. As they finished off the last few, Talagan suddenly looked up with a gasp and leapt back to avoid a dart.

“In the trees!” Talagan led his archers into the pines whence the first goblins had come, and they climbed swiftly into the pines while from the ground Nimue, Gedin and the guards used their swords to deflect more darts.

Remaining alert for further attacks, Gedin kept an eye on the battle above. Shaking rainwater out of his dark red hair he watched his brother fighting three goblins at once on a branch near the tree’s top. He easily dispatched the first one, which fell with a wail, and turned his attention to the remaining two.

One of them was armed with a long spear, and the other was firing darts at Talagan with unusually good aim. Gedin held his breath and watched with concern as his foster brother did a nimble back-flip to avoid a thrust from the first goblin’s spear. He spun just as he landed to dodge a dart, and then leapt to the branch above the two as another dart shot past his face.

From above the goblins he was block the spear with the long-sword in his left hand while with the other he drew a slender knife from his boot, which he sent into the goblin’s vulnerable throat with a deft flick of his wrist. Even as that goblin fell he was forced to flip again to avoid another dart. He swore aloud in exasperation. Gedin chuckled.

The laughter died in his throat as he caught sight suddenly of another goblin in the tree close beside the one Talagan was in. The creature had a crude bow and was aiming at the prince’s exposed back. The Elven archers were all occupied with their own battles, and with all the goblins nearby it did not seem as though Talagan had sensed this one.

Gedin leapt forward. “Talagan!” he cried. “’Ware behind you!”

Time seemed to slow. Talagan glanced back to see the goblin-archer just as the first goblin prepared to fire another dart at him. The prince leapt up and spun in the air to face the archer, landing, catlike, in a crouch on an even higher branch. The dart whistled harmlessly past him.

As the thin branch he was on began to break, Talagan shifted his long-sword into his left hand and drew his short-sword with the other, holding it in a reverse-grip so that its tip pointed backwards. The branch snapped, and at the same moment Talagan leapt backwards. As he landed on the branch below he stabbed the short-sword back and up, piercing the goblin just behind the chinstrap on its helmet.

The creature fell with a gurgle, and the other goblin fired its arrow. Talagan brought up his sword to deflect it. Recognizing the futility of dodging the far-range missiles indefinitely, the prince changed tactics. As the goblin readied another arrow he leapt forward with a shout.

The goblin, with a screech of panic, fired two arrows in quick succession. Talagan dodged them both but the goblin, too, changed its strategy suddenly. Instead of stringing another arrow to its bow, it hurled the weapon like a spear.

Talagan had no choice but to deflect it with a swipe of his long-sword, leaving himself open for a moment. In that instant the goblin reached back and drew a hidden broadsword from a hidden sheath at its back. As it bounded forward, Gedin realized with sickening certainty that there would be no time for Talagan to avoid it, no matter how swift or agile he was.

Gedin rushed forward, hearing his own voice, and Lady Nimue’s, shouting Talagan’s name. His brother nearly succeeded in bringing his sword back up to block; but even that was not swift enough, and the goblin gave a screech of triumph as the broadsword came flashing down.

“Talagan!”

To be continued...

Elvish glossary:

Eyaah - an ancient battle cry of the forest Elves, coming from the name of Llaer’s first King, Eliyah.

All right, we're caught up now. Fear not, chapter four is now almost complete. I have about a page left to go. (Thank goodness these chapters are so short!) I don't dare give any kind of estimate as to when it will be up, but if I am able to work on it as much this week as I did today, then it shouldn't be long. Naturally, reviews will motivate me to work faster... 0:)

I'm also considering starting either a C2, a forum, or maybe even a LiveJournal community for this fic, which would feature previews of upcoming chapters, character bios and perhaps even a bit of art, and whatever else I can think of. :P Would anyone be interested? I'm leaning more towards an LJ community myself, simply because I am more familiar with it so it would be easy to maintain. Also, I have to confess that I have NO idea what C2s are all about... ;

Anyway, please let me know what you think of both the community/forum idea, as well as the new-and-(hopefully)-improved chapters! Thanks once again for reading and God bless!