Refuge: Kurt's Quest (14 page)

[We have movement to the east, heading our
way,] sent Glassini.  [A lot of movement, according to my sister.]

The Marshal was out of his sleeping nest in a
moment, reaching for his armor and weapons.  “Get all of the men up,” he yelled
out to his people.  “Arm yourselves.”

The Ellala may not have been the physically
strongest of races, but they needed much less sleep than most, and went from
slumber to alertness in an instant.  Moments after the words left his mouth the
camp was like a kicked over ant’s nest, Ellala running from their small tents,
jerking on their armor.

“Krug,” yelled the Marshal, walking toward the
big Ogre, who had slept out in the open, and was still struggling to waken. 
“Get your damned armor on, unless you want to fight a mass of Grogatha with only
your naked flesh to protect you.”

The Ogre grunted as he started to strap on his
heavy plate.  The Marshal cursed as he walked away, wondering if the big
creature would be of any use in this fight, or if it would be over before the
oaf was ready.

The Ellala were prepared when the horde of
screaming Grogatha came running out of the night, weapons brandished and blood
in their eyes, ready to kill the invader of their territory.  The first to come
into the night vision range of the Ellala were met by a storm of arrows, as the
fifty archers in the party fired, put arrow to string, and fired again.  The
rest of the men were gathered up in a shield wall, spears ready.

The Grogatha were not as much of a threat
without the element of surprise they had counted on.  Those who made it through
the arrow storm were met by a better armored, armed and skilled foe.  Some
Ellala were taken down by the cruel barbed arrows of the Orcs.  Others died on
the barbed swords of snarling creatures.  But they beat back the attack.

The next group to come out of the night, right
behind the first wave of Grogatha, were a score of huge Ogres with war hammers
and maces.  They took the fire from the archers, taking most of the arrows on a
thick leather armor that looked to be made of mammoth skins.  Some shafts made
it to flesh, and did nothing to slow the huge creatures down.  The Ogres
slammed into the shield wall, swinging their massive blunt weapons into the
mass of Ellala and tossing them right and left.

“Where are my magic users?” shouted the
Marshal, turning to see what had occupied the most powerful of his people. 
They were fighting off another wave of Orcs coming from the west, part of what
now looked like a pincer movement.  They had been met by fireballs, lightning
bolts and waves of cold, the lucky ones.  Those horribly unlucky were having
their souls sucked from their bodies by death magic.  But while they were
dealing with that second attack, the Ogres were tearing through his Ellala soldiers.

A roar sounded that drowned that of the other
Ogres, and Krug came running into battle. His armor clanked with each step, his
arms swung a pair of great swords that looked like regular sword blades in his
great hands.  As he closed on the others of his kind, the Marshal could see
that the semi-civilized gladiator was much larger than his barbaric cousins,
probably a result of his better eating and training for the arena.

Krug killed two Ogres with his first strike,
blades slashing in from both sides into a pair of the leather clad enemies and
into their flesh.  They fell to the ground with loud grunts, their heads near
separated from their bodies.  The next nearest Ogre slammed a mace into Krug’s
back, a heavy hit that would have killed an Ellala with its force, even if it
didn’t penetrate the armor.  Krug pivoted on his feet with an agility the other
Ogres couldn’t match, plunging his right hand blade through the creature’s
chest, the tip of the blade actually poking out of his victim’s back.

Krug spun and killed another, just a moment
before a pair of fireballs hit seven of the remaining Ogres and dropped them in
burning heaps.  That was enough for all of the rest of the enemy, Orc and Ogre,
and they fled as fast as their misshapen legs could propel them, into the
night.

“Cowards,” yelled Krug, brandishing his two
dripping blades into the air.  “Krug kill you, and ravage your women, after
killing your children before their eyes.”

That was the most eloquent the Marshal had ever
seen the Ogre, and the most savage as well.  He looked over the field with his
night vision, seeing a number of cooling bodies on the ground.  Most were
Grogatha, though there were enough of his own men to make him wince. 
We had
to have lost over a score of men, and another score injured.  If not for Krug,
it would have been much worse.

“Thank you, Krug,” he told the big creature as
he walked back into the camp, breathing heavy, his fierce eyes looking back and
forth.

“Cowards run when fight getting good,” growled
the Gladiator.  “Wish they didn’t run like that.”

“I’m sure you’ll get your fill of fighting
before this is done,” the Marshal told the big Gladiator.

The Ogre smiled for a second, then the frown
returned.  “Krug hope so, or he not be happy.”  With that the big creature
stomped back to his sleeping area, already starting to take his armor off.

He can’t be bothered with cleaning up
, thought the Marshal
with a scowl. 
But, with his prowess, I’m willing to treat him like the
thoroughbred he is.  We will need that power.  Magic is all well and good, and
stealth, and agility. 
He pictured the Death Priest, the Master Assassin,
and one of his soldiers in his mind. 
But sometimes sheer brute strength is
needed, and Krug has that in excess.  Probably even more than those damned
Immortal humans that are following us
.  He pictured his Ogre champion
fighting one of the exceptional humans and smiled.  That would be a fight to be
seen in the Arena in A’ataponia, and one he would be excited to bet on.

*     *      *

[The thin warriors were attacked by the ugly
ones,] sent White Paw over the mental link.

“As long as they’re not attacking us,” said
Garios, a wide smile on his face. “Let the elves and Grogatha slaughter each
other all they want.  It will clear the way for us.”

“And they will raise every tribe in the area in
their passage,” said H’rrut, shaking his head.  His eyes took on a faraway
look, as if he were looking into the past.  “This land is full of savage tribes
of Orcs and Goblins, and Ogres too.  My people occupy the coasts and fjords,
and leave them these mountain valleys.  Normally they war on each other.  But
many generations ago, when my own people tried to gain dominion over the interior,
they united into a horde such as we had never seen.  We lost over half our
warriors before we retreated back to our own lands.”

The Nord look into the fire for a moment.  “My
grandfather was a young warrior, just old enough to be called a man.  And he
never again went into the wild lands.”

“But if they are attacking our enemies, isn’t
that a good thing?” asked Garios, scratching his head.

“Not if every savage in this area is on the
warpath,” said Fenris, looking over at the Nord, then back at the dwarf.  “With
them all stirred up, there is are sure to be groups wandering about
everywhere.  And with so many random comings and goings, we are bound to make
contact.  If it develops into a battle, we are likely to be overrun.”

“What is our path to the ruins?” asked Kurt,
looking at H’rrut.

“We must follow them up the valley, then take a
small branch to the south that leads up into the high mountains,” said the
Nord.  “After that, we will be taking a high road until we come to its valley.”

“Is that the only way in?” asked Jackie, who
looked uncomfortable at the whole idea of cold high mountain paths.

“There’s another way,” said the Nord with a
smile.  “We follow these enemies of ours along their path, hoping that they
don’t turn onto the lowland path much further on, and that we don’t run into
hordes of Orcs and Goblins.  Would that way suit you better, my Lady?”

“I guess I can stand the cold, for a short
while.  This is a short while you’re talking about.”

“Three days, tops,” said the Nord with a
smile.  “And we’ll be above the tree line, so fires will be a problem.  We will
just have to use body heat and furs to stay warm.”

As the man said those words, his eyes locked on
Jackie, and Kurt knew what was going through the man’s mind.  
Better that
you tried to force yourself on Troll than her, my friend.  She can rip you
apart with her bare hands before you even know what is happening.

“Then we will take this high road when we come
to it,” said Kurt, making the decision, as was his right as leader of the
expedition. 
This is not a democracy, and I have the final decision.  Just
like in Russia, when higher headquarters couldn’t interfere.

“So, everyone get some sleep,” he said, knowing
that the guard schedule was already set, while White Paw would sleep well outside
the camp, where his superior senses would detect anything trying to sneak up on
them.  “We move at first light.”

*     *     *

James sat on the log and said the words.  He
could feel the power of the ground through his feet.  There was always heat
energy where there was ground.  At least that was what he had found, though he
had to wonder if that would be true up in the mountains, where it was
constantly cold, with snow and ice everywhere.

He made the gestures, feeling the energy run
through his body.  His hands faded away, as did his arms.  He looked at his
legs, or through where they were supposed to be to the log underneath.

“Very good,” said Fenris, his instructor.  “The
spell has turned you completely invisible.  I see absolutely no flaw to the
spell.”

“Then let’s try a shielding spell,” the Mage
told his teacher.

Fenris nodded, and picked up some small rocks
and a couple of sticks.  James said the words to another spell, just a short
phrase, what one would use in a combat situation.  He made the hand gestures,
not able to see his own motions, but feeling as if they were correct.  He felt
the surge of energy flow through his body and into the air around him.

“Try it,” he said to the Ellala.

Fenris tossed a stick in the direction of the
voice, smiling as it bounced from an invisible wall in the air, then frowning. 
“I assume that hit your shield, and not you.”

“It hit the shield, alright,” said Drake.  “I’ll
let you know if it hits me.”

Fenris threw another stick, then a rock.  He
followed with yet another rock at a higher velocity, which also bounced from
the shield.  “Let us see if you can stop this one,” said the Ellala, rearing
back and whipping the last rock.

“Ow,” complained James as the rock came through
the shield and hit him in the chest.  He lost concentration and the
invisibility spell faded.  “Shit,” were the next words out of his mouth.

“Not to worry,” said Fenris, walking over and
patting the young human on the shoulder.  “The shield was stronger than it was
yesterday, which was stronger than the day before.  You’re improving.”

“But not fast enough,” said Drake, glaring at
the Ellala.  “I might need to use this magic in the near future, and I’m still
too weak.”

“Then just burn them with a fireball, and you
won’t have to worry about it,” said the Ellala with a laugh.

“One more, then I’ll call it a night,” said the
Mage, closing his eyes and feeling the power flowing through him yet again.  He
made the proper gestures under the watchful eyes of the Ellala, said the words,
and felt his feet leave the ground.

“Very good,” said Fenris.  “Now levitate higher
into the air.”

James nodded, then waved one hand and felt
himself move higher.  He continued to rise until he was five meters in the air.

“Don’t go too high,” said Fenris in a
cautioning voice.  “That’s a long distance to fall.”

“Don’t worry,” said Drake, smiling.  “I’ve got
this.”

As soon as those words left his mouth he felt
the spell failing, and he jerked downward a couple of meters, caught himself,
then fell another before he gained control of the spell once again.  He smiled
past his panic, until it failed completely, and he fell the two meters to the
ground.

“Are you alright?” yelled Fenris, running up
and kneeling down beside the young human, who was holding an ankle.

“I’m fine.  But I don’t think my ankle is.”

“I told you not to go so high,” scolded Fenris.
 “At least until you are sure of your control.”

The Ellala pulled Drake’s boot off so he could
get a look at the ankle.  Drake whimpered just a bit and closed his eyes as the
boot was removed, then cringed again as Fernis ran his fingers gently over the
ankle.  “I don’t think it’s broken.  Just a severe sprain.”  The Ellala reached
into a pouch and pulled out a small jar of some slightly glowing salve.  He
opened it, took some out with his fingers, and rubbed it into the skin of the
ankle.

“That, feels wonderful,” gasped James as he
felt the soothing warmth of the ungent.

“By morning you will be good as new,” said
Fenris, slapping James on the shoulder.  “And don’t give up.  You’re getting
better at this every day.  In fact, I would have to say that you are
progressing faster than any of my people ever do.”