"I don't know. I'll think of something." #101 | | |
Taur takes us to the far end of the Glade and into the trees where the six sacks are partially hidden in the undergrowth. He then departs for an assignation with a Dryad. I'm almost moved to smile. Mission accomplished, as my old Commanding Officer used to say. Now I'm in a position to trade for the letter of credit. The Fairies stay with Makri while we load the sacks of dwa on to our horses. #102 | | |
"How do we get out of here?" enquires Makri. "I don't mind fighting forty Orcs but I can't guarantee I'll kill every one of them." #103 | | |
"You disappoint me. As they can't get in here, maybe we could stay just inside the boundary and pick them off? If we killed enough of them we could make a run for it." #104 | | |
Makri pulls out her throwing stars. "We might get a few of them. But Orcs aren't that stupid. Once they see what's happening they'll just withdraw far enough away that we can't reach them." #105 | | |
"Do you have a better idea?" #106 | | |
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"So we might as well try it." #108 | | |
We hurry back to the clearing where our horses engage briefly in conversation with two Centaurs who greet us affably as we pass. It's strange being surrounded by these peculiar creatures, all of them without a care in the world, while our lives are in such extreme danger. We creep through the trees to the edge of the Glade, then separate. I get down on my belly and crawl forward, trying to spot the line of sentries. There's no sign of any. I can't find an Orc anywhere. Makri returns with the same tale. The Orcs are not guarding the Glade. #109 | | |
"Strange. They must be waiting outside the forest, watching the paths." #110 | | |
"I know this forest," I say, gaining confidence. "I can lead us north and out of the forest far away from the path. We'll be back in Turai before they know we've gone." #111 | | |
I'm surprised at such poor tactics from an experienced warrior like Horm the Dead. Dwa must be addling his mind. We hurry to make our escape. The Fairies still flutter along happily beside Makri. They seem to be enjoying it all. Centaurs call out appreciatively as we reach the clearing. Taur, back from his assignation, is just making some gracious comments about Makri's figure when he stops short, tossing his head in alarm and sniffing the air. The hairs on the back of my neck start to prickle. I can sense something very bad about to happen. #112 | | |
"What is it?" asks Makri. #113 | | |
"Horm the Dead. He's close." #114 | | |
"Horm can't get in here!" #115 | | |
I look up, shielding my eyes against the burning sun. High above, a monstrous shape is circling the Glade. As it descends its great wings beat the air like a vision of hell. The Centaurs wail. The Fairies shriek and fly into the trees and the Naiads disappear under the water. Horm the Dead and thirty Orcs are gliding towards us on the back of a dragon. A real war dragon. Not a small one like the one in the King's zoo. Not a half-grown thing like the one Makri fought in the slave pits. A proper Orcish war dragon, black and gold, vast in size, with terrible fangs, fiery breath, scales like armour and talons that can tear a man in two. The most frightening creature ever to draw breath, and it's coming our way, fast. #116 | | |
"A war dragon," I say to Makri. "God knows how Horm got hold of it but it looks like he's decided to smash his way into the Glade." #117 | | |
Makri stands firm with her axe raised. "I fought one before . . ." #118 | | |
The dragon circles closer. #119 | | |
"It was an awful lot smaller than that though," she admits. "Did you and Gurd really kill a dragon in the war?" #120 | | |
"Yes. Not nearly as big as this though, and the sleep spell gave us a couple of seconds to get its eyes. But you can't use magic here. My sleep spell won't work in the Fairy Glade." #121 | | |
"It's funny the way your spells tend not to work whenever we need them most." #122 | | |
"Yes, I've noticed that as well." #123 | | |
As the dragon nears we see that it's wearing a visor of steel mesh to protect its eyes. When the dragon is about fifty feet above the ground, and Horm and his troops are screaming at us and brandishing their swords, there's a terrific flash of lightning as it hits the protective magical field that covers the Glade. #124 | | |
The dragon screams and a blast of flame belches from its nostrils. One Orc plummets to the ground but the rest hang on grimly, as the dragon furiously throws itself against the barrier. It screams and writhes, beating at the air with its wings and talons. Bolts of blue lightning split the sky and thunderous explosions rock the Glade. A tremendous flash lights up the forest as the barrier finally gives way. The vast golden bulk of the beast crashes to the ground and lies stunned in a great cloud of smoke and dust. There's a brief moment of silence, then with fierce war cries the Orcs emerge like demons from the smoke, and charge towards us, waving their swords and screaming. #125 | | |
I turn to flee. Makri stands her ground. I curse at her, and grab her arm. She brushes me off. #126 | | |
"I'm not running from Orcs twice in one day," she declares, gripping her axe and slipping on her helmet. Neither of us has had time to don our armour so Makri faces the charge wearing only her chainmail bikini and helmet whilst I'm standing in an undershirt hoping no one shoots an arrow into my belly. #127 | | |
An amazing thing happens. A great phalanx of fabulous creatures emerges from the trees, ready to fight to defend the Fairy Glade from the hated Orcs. Centaurs, unicorns and Dryads, with clubs and spears, rush forward to meet the Orcs' charge. The air is thick with furious, spitting Fairies, and odd Pixie-like creatures that ride on the backs of the Centaurs, brandishing knives. #128 | | |
Battle is joined. The Glade dwellers plus myself and Makri against thirty huge Orc warriors and the malevolently powerful Horm the Dead. Thank God the dragon is stunned. The air still crackles as Horm attempts to force his sorcery to work in the magic-dampening space around him. Bolts of lightning flicker from his fingers, powerful enough to drive back the Centaurs but not yet strong enough to spread destruction. The Orcs attempt to slash their way through us and their huge curved blades inflict some damage but they're driven back by stabbing unicorns and clubbing Centaurs, and Fairies who fly round them spitting in their eyes and pricking them with tiny, needle-like weapons. #129 | | |
Makri starts hacking her way through towards the Orc Commander, a huge creature with two massive swords who rallies his forces with an evil, screeching battle cry. I'm confronted by two Orcs and forced sideways against a tree. I manage to strike one of them down and before the other can attack he's transfixed from behind by a unicorn's horn. #130 | | |
Horm the Dead is not one of those Sorcerers who shuns battle. Seeing his Orcs hard pressed, he abandons his effort to work his magic and lays about him with a black sword to murderous effect. He sends a Naiad flying backwards screaming and almost decapitates a Centaur with a great curving blow. #131 | | |
In the midst of the mayhem, I glimpse some naked Naiads emerging from the water and swiftly dragging the bleeding Dryad away from the scene and into the pool. #132 | | |
The forces of the Fairy Glade have the Orcs out-numbered. We start to outflank them, forcing the Orcs to retreat towards the still unconscious dragon. The Orcs form up in front of the gigantic, smoking beast, using its bulk to guard their backs. Fighting is extremely fierce. The Glade beings lose some momentum in the face of determined Orcish resistance, and the outcome hangs in the balance. Then Makri slays an Orcish warrior and bursts through their ranks to mount a furious attack on their Commander. He roars an Orcish curse at her and assails her with his two huge swords. Makri parries with her axe and sword, screams a curse of her own, and buries her axe deep in his helmet. The Centaurs cheer and charge forward with their clubs and the Fairies renew their efforts at confusing their enemies, buzzing and stabbing like a horde of tormenting insects. #133 | | |
The Orcs crumble under our final assault and are hacked down in front of the dragon. Horm the Dead, streaming with blood, screams in rage as he holds off Makri and a Centaur. Summoning one last great burst of energy, he shouts out a demonic spell and the air around him crackles with fire as the spell struggles against the magic dampening aura of the Fairy Glade. Finally it bursts through, sending Makri and the others spinning backwards. Horm screams a desperate command to the dragon, causing it to rouse itself with a terrifying roar. Makri picks herself up and sprints back towards the Sorcerer, but before she can reach him he scales the side of the dragon and orders it into the air. With a great beating of its wings the huge war dragon lifts off the ground. Makri, frustrated by the escape, whips a throwing star from her bag and hurls it at Horm. He screams as it embeds itself in his leg, but he hangs on. There's another terrific flash of blue lightning as the dragon crashes up out of the magical field leaving thirty dead Orcs below, and not a few casualties on our side. #134 | | |
We've won. Thraxas, Makri and the unicorns beat off Horm and a dragon. When I tell them about it at the Avenging Axe, they'll never believe me. #135 | | |
