They waited as more filed in and he saw the gnomes dismount and ready their crossbows and blow guns. Smaller than an elven or human bow, and not as powerful as dwarven crossbows, but what they lacked in power they made up for in speed and accuracy, not to mention a pinch of something slathered on their broad heads that would help the larger beasts fall to sleep easily enough if not kill them outright. He wanted to signal the gnomes to begin shooting but it was just too soon and they were still tucked within the buildings’ overhang.

  Like a school of fish, each following the current as one entity, the muridai began to flow out into the atrium stage as well as the concession areas.

  “They’re forming up like legionnaires,” a newly arrived ranger said before continuing, “Pikemen and swords positioned as in the stories of the lost age of knights and kings.” The ‘lost age’ referring to a period that occurred hundreds of years before the cataclysm, when armored knights rode chargers of renowned strength. A method of using lancers Juin once dreamed knowing the elven equivalent, nothing to compare.

  He was quoting the human histories that always stank of truth yet held many holes. He was right in that they were organized for siege, not attack which meant…they knew they were there. What they did not know was that the only ones left here were fighters, the other elves had gone with Jiar to caves that were difficult to access and some distance away.

  He studied the formations; not as Juin, but as the Karoome. He was very young by elven standards, but he did not become the head of the military through blood alone, he had applied himself and remembered his studies. He was not in a position to neither win this battle nor even put up a good fight against so many moving within a solid formation of flesh and iron. Today was about survival, not sacrifice. There were too many and, they were trained.

  “Sound the retreat, to the eastern way-point.”

  “Sir?” the signaler said, surprised by the command.

  “Do it now,” Juin snapped, causing the signaler to start patterns with the shutter on a signal lamp. The pattern was repeated and forwarded through the hills and along the ridge.

  “I suggest we start backing out now, Karoome. That is not a force that we are capable of handling,” Bobbick whispered.

  Juin didn’t reply, reluctantly he turned and started to retreat for the forest when a spindly voice called out from the stage of the amphitheater in thickly accented common tongue.

  “Leaving so soon, Prince Juin?” the voice said, causing the Karoome to pause before moving on.

  “I thought that we might sit a spell and talk about your sister, Juil. I don’t suppose that she is here now, is she? No, I thought not,” the man continued, knowing that he had acquired the elven prince’s full attention. Juin stood and faced the man, now seeing an impossibly wide-brimmed black hat with a slight dome shape over his skull. His face was a white contrast to the black duster that framed and highlighted a glow of pale flesh starting at the neckline and ending with the rounded edge of the brim that covered his eyes and nose.

  Juin felt that the man looked slimy enough to match his voice and he knew that he didn’t want to have any dealings with one such as this. Yet, sometimes life has another plan entirely than what you may or may not want.

  “What do you know of my sister?” Juin said and signaled for the rest of them to keep drawing back. Soon it was just Juin facing the man with a ranger upon each side of him.

  “Come, come now, boy. Come down here and sit with me a spell…maybe we can figure this all out?”

  “Who are you and why are you here? You and your people have elven blood on your hands. There is a price for that.”

  “Oh that is rich, my young prince, who I might add has killed thousands of our kind over the years. I am Sambone,” he said as if this should answer all questions. It didn’t, in fact he couldn’t even decipher what region the name or his accent came from. At this point all that he had surmised was that the being was possibly albino and possibly a human… male.

  “Denying that you are not beaten and at our mercy does not make it real, young elf. I am here because I was told to be here, anything more than that is not your concern, though it should be rather obvious with all of the death and what not.”

  “Tell me of my sister.”

  “Not like that I won’t. Seriously, you people are so rigid when it comes to matters of state, you can’t even have a decent conversation about leverage for heaven’s sake.” The man continually fussed with his suit by straightening the lapel and brushing off first one shoulder then the other, hardly paying any attention at all to the fact that they were having a serious conversation between two armies. Juin scanned the disciplined troops that stood behind the pale man waiting for the command to do what they have been brought here to do.

  They were huge lumps of shadows with more large bodied beings on the wings of the formation in an unorganized mass. It was much like the Karoome had expected, having faced trolls many times past. Toward the center, however, was a stark difference as precise rows of muridai stood in ranks at full attention, their forms stiff and unwavering. Their guile clueless, uncaring, designed to do nothing but to obey orders and kill.

  Where have they come from?

  “Name your price, we will pay it.”

  “Oh, you will, will you? Just to have your sister back you would pay anything? That is very noble of you, my prince,” the man sneered.

  “She is my sister, there is no price too great. Would you like an even trade, her for me? I will pay that, gladly.” There was no threat or pride behind his words, only conviction.

  “Yes, I believe that you would, as repulsive as that is. I dare say, sir elf, that you would not in truth be willing to pay all that it would require to get your sister back safely.”

  “Name your price, ghoul, or be gone with you,” Juin said, surprising even himself but once he said the word, he knew it to be truth. Sambone was a ghoul, a ghoul of the worst kind.

  All of these creatures of legend returning at once, what is happening? Ghouls haven’t been seen for a millennium yet here…

  “Well, you need not fear that the price will include money, we have no need of your measly stores. Who wants gold when we can make it with a wave of our hands? In truth all we require is the complete subjugation of all the elves of Lilieack.”

  “You jest.”

  “Surely that is a fair price for your sister, the one whom you adore before all others, which is a might twisted if I dare to mention. Either way it will come to pass, we just have to decide if we wish to destroy Lilieack first or if we should decimate Noril, we’re open to suggestions on that matter so feel free to pipe in.”

  “I wasn’t aware that ghouls were such jesters.”

  “Ghouls is a tad gauche, don’t you think? I am simply a man who is here to offer you a chance to survive the oncoming storm, you and your people. Or…we can destroy them just as easily as we did this little trash heap in a matter of hours, what do you call it…Pine Hold? Truly a guileless name if I do say.” Sambone paused and studied the elf prince as if he was inches away. He sneered again and began a sickly rasp that resembled a chuckle.

  “I tell you what, young Prince, let me sweeten the pot for you a little bit.” He paused for dramatic affect. “Surrender me your kingdom and not only will I return your sister within the hour, but I will also not slaughter the three heads of kingdoms just scant miles from here. One of whom is your own father, your mother… I believe we will savor her for a bit. Elven women do age gracefully don’t you think?”

  Sambone waited for several seconds before beginning to laugh so infectiously that the giants and trolls joined in. He raised his hand, instantly silencing the crowd to hear his reply as if the Karoome would actually accept his offer.

  Juin just waited until the crowd silenced itself, for what he had to say was important and he wanted all to hear it.

  “It has been a pleasure speaking with you, master Sambone; however, I feel it is my duty to inform you that very soon, you will be dead. I can only pray that it is upon my blade that you end.”

  Sambone laughed.

  “Bold words from the rabbit in a trap, Karoome. I commend you, as well as relish the thought of your demise,” he said smugly before turning to his army.

  “Bring me his insolent hide!” he shouted at the unorganized horde of trolls and giants who instantly sprinted down the aisles toward the prince. But it was too late, Juin was done and disappeared into shadows. At the tree line he sprinted, knowing that his pursuers probably knew where the stables were. If each entrance allowed that many foul folk coming into the city, then there could easily be five thousand invaders on their doorstep and their own army grossly unprepared.

  * * *

  Thirty miles north upon a dwarven dredged estuary into Riverhouse, worked a group who hadn’t responded to the call of the fallen elf king from weeks before seeing as how piners rarely do. The forest was producing again after a long drought and Lilieack was a long way away. This time it came from Pine Hold where they all had shared business and passed through while in their summer harvest areas. In winter they would return to their homes in the east to share in the valuable frost pine harvests, but that was weeks away and not all hands were needed to guide the harvest down the estuary to Riverhouse and they were welcomed in the elven city. This time they heeded the call and three quarters of their number headed south to a battle weeks away overland.

  * * *

  Farther to the north in the heart of the Rachis at the foot of the Bones hunkered a large mining community. They too would leave for the winter and spend their diggings in the warmth and comfort of Riverhouse that stayed a consistent sixty degrees following a lifestyle pattern that had existed since the building of the house hundreds of years ago. To them Pine Hold meant safety and sanctuary from the cold at a halfway point. It was a warm meal and a soft bed in their travels as well as entertainment and fair trade. Diggers Hollow was where they worked and hollowers was what they jokingly called themselves. They were a swarthy lot, mixed of all five of the species. Those who weren’t comfortable in the company of their own came here to make a living and still be a part of the Rachis. The Bone Spires crept into a person’s blood much as the sea adopts a sailor, claiming dominance over those souls. Pine Hold belonged to them as much as it did to the elves, someone would pay.

  They packed their gold and attached dogs and donkeys to the carts for the journey south. Their weapons barred for the war, thick leather jerkins and gauntlets the dress code.

  28

  The Trail

  They headed out from the city of Follock, a city that Drick wouldn’t mind getting to know a little better in a less tumultuous time. His position didn’t allow him the time or to leave known slavers to exist under the compact of the Five. That morning the three men left the safety of the city with one horse, four mules, and a donkey that Bryan said had been with him since he left home as a kid.

  He relayed the tale on their journey out. He had found a wretched group of boys who thought it would be sporting to tie the young beast in a clearing and try to stone it to death. He had been much older than the boys and chased them off about a half hour after their abuse had started. He cleaned the wounds and cut off the harness leaving the battered donkey to his own devices.

  “Later that night I found out that the ornery son of basset hound had followed me. Two days later I bought him a new harness and started having him haul stuff for me, however, I didn’t have any stuff so I hauled other people’s and soon was making a decent living all because of an ornery donkey.” He finished and looked fondly down at the rugged beast that wasn’t much smaller than a horse. With his thick heavy bones and huge jaw combined with hard blocky muscles, he probably weighed more than a horse. This wasn’t a burro nor was it a mule, it was a full-fledged donkey and a formidable beast at that.

  “Son of a bitch still won’t let me ride him,” he said and then shook his head dramatically. “Never once. He dragged me out of a river once and I have rescued his sorry ass many times, but he still will never let me on his back. My nieces and nephews rode him all the time, but with me, no way.”

  “He’s quite an animal,” Drick said.

  “He’s an asshole,” he said in reply, “but I love him…not to mention that he can haul three times as much as a horse without blinking an eye. These mules come close, but Spunk here, he’ll out pack and out pull any one of them, provided he is in the mood that day.”

  “Mood?” Grodeg asked as he too admired the beast. Being a dwarf, he admired powerful beings and the donkey was exactly that.

  “Yeah, in about three to four days he will tire and start acting up, you’ll see.” With that, the conversation ceased for a time. They had made it back to the spot where they had rescued the slaves the night before by late afternoon.

  “We have a good pace going and I am feeling rested. Looks like a full moon tonight, is anybody up for a night ride?”

  “I was heading back this way anyways, so I’m good for as long as you want to go,” Drick said knowing that he could use some rest and maybe even some drink, but was feeling an inner stirring of trouble back in the Rachis. This trail led that way so he would continue on as long and straight as he could, something sour was in the night air and the Har Karoome had a suspicion that it required his attention.

  The moon was full as stated and the night was bright as it reflected off snowdrifts still left from the past winter. There were areas this far north that never quite thawed, however if they ever did, there would be life underneath waiting to swallow the sun’s rays. The trail remained obvious which spoke of a confidence that was disheartening to say the least. What exactly were they riding toward?

  They avoided conversation as none knew what was in store or where their adversaries could be. Ice King wasn’t enjoying the trip with the mules, he wasn’t all that social with horses let alone loud stomping mules, so Drick led him off to scout ahead. Ice King was not just a horse, but he was a trained military horse and light of foot unlike the ponderous mules. The mules had one benefit in that he could just drop the lead of his own mule and it would simply follow the others without a care in the world and no thought as to who actually owned him. The other benefit would be the shear strength of the animals. He had always heard that they could take on a white bear or even a grizzly, but he never believed it until he was up close and personal with them. The raw power under the placid nature was astounding and the Har Karoome decided he would keep the pack animal even though it wasn’t a typical elven mount.

  He was almost a mile out when they came to a snowfield that would expose them better than if they were moving in daylight. He stayed in the trees and scanned the open ground with his sharp elven eyes before closing his first lid followed by his second until he could make out heat signatures on the other side of the snowfield.

  There were small groups of beings which were too far to definitively identify, but he would bet his personal fortune that they were muridai with a few trolls mixed in. They were positioned casually around the mouth of what looked to be a cave or tunnel opening and by some of the landscape or structures surrounding them, it looked as if they had been there for a while. He pulled back and headed toward his companions.

  “We’ve got a snowfield about a quarter mile up that stretches for close to a mile to the other side.”

  “Yes, that would be the Leopold Ice Fields, they keep a base of snow year-round,” Grodeg, who was the most familiar with this area, said.

  “Oh, are you familiar with the cave on the opposite side of the ice field?” Drick asked hopefully.

  “That’s no cave and it is supposed to be sealed off. It’s a mine where back in my granddad’s age was producing the finest quality silver ever found, it was so pure they called it tru-silver and it is harder than the strongest of alloys,” Grodeg said.

  “Oh, why don’t you still mine it?” Drick asked.

  “They went too deep. Triggered earthquakes and lava flows, some even claimed that they had awoken something that shouldn’t be awake. Something from a time beyond memory is what they say. I think it is superstitious nonsense and figure it to be in some sort of estate squabble.”

  “I remember hearing about that, though I am not one to be buying in to dragons and such,” Bryan said.

  “There weren’t no dragons, unless of course you think an underground volcano can fly around and devour cities and such,” Grodeg replied sarcastically.

  “Look, they seem agitated, I think their slavers are overdue for some reason or another,” Drick said and the other two smirked knowing why they were overdue.

  “Yeah, I wonder how that could’a happened,” Bryan said. “What do you think about following the tree line right around to them?”

  “I was thinking that myself. The trees provide nice shadows on the snow and we should have a good couple of hours to get out of their line of sight. Then we can watch them as we creep in from the side,” Drick said.

  “Need I remind you that there are only three of us?” Grodeg cautioned.

  “You said it was an old mine, right? More than three of us would just get in the way, I would think,” Bryan said confidently.

  “I just wanted to be sure you knew our situation, carry on, gentlemen,” the dwarf said. They found a clearing deep in the woods and tied off the rest of the mules with the exception of Spunk, he seemed to take up a guard position after Bryan had whispered into his ear and gave him some sugar cubes.

  “They’ll be fine; Spunk will take care of things while we’re gone. He’s good like that,” Bryan said as they mounted and started a steady crawl around the clearing within the shadows of the trees. The clearing arched back and away from the mine’s entry which increased the distance, but kept them out of the line of sight for most of the time.

  As they got closer, they could hear what sounded to be commands, a gruff voice speaking to an underling. They pulled back as three goblins came out of the mine and sprinted toward the west.