*
Up in the great hall, King Edwin and Lord Mellem had watched in horror as the wave of green approached the castle. It was only after the sun’s light became full that they realized that it was an army of trolls and humans. The army had stopped just short of arrow range. They were completely oblivious as to the events going on in the bowels of the castle.
Mellem and Edwin watched as the human soldiers raised their large shields over their heads, forming a testudo, marching three abreast toward the main doors. Thousands of arrows rained down upon them as they moved forward. Rocks launched from the battlements had knocked a few of the shield-wielding guards down, but others took their place. They kept advancing.
“What do those soldiers think they are going to accomplish?” King Edwin looked at Mellem, befuddled. “What on earth are they doing?!”
Mellem smiled, sarcastically offering, “Maybe, my King, they think that they will be able just to melt through the walls…” Mellem took a sip of tea.
Just as he swallowed his tea, the door to the back of the hall burst open with a bloody Toggart running toward them, screaming maniacally, “They are in the castle! They are in the castle!”
Edwin grabbed Toggart. “Who’s in the castle?” He eyed Toggart’s blood-stained clothing and broke into a huge smile. “Look Mellem! This worthless creature is so stupid that he cut himself with his own blade…!”
Mellem turned away from Edwin and peered toward the open doorway leading down into the lower sections of the castle. He did not smile. He reached over and pulled Toggart out of Edwin’s grasp. “You worthless piece of green slime, who’s in the castle?!”
Before Toggart could answer, a horde of sword-wielding trolls bellowing “By the Horns of Kern!” burst through all the doorways at once.
Edwin’s pallor turned chalky white, as the blood drained from his face. He snarled at Mellem and the others, “We have nothing to worry about?! Protect me, you idiots! It is your duty to protect your king!!” Edwin grabbed his sword from its sheath, brandishing it in wait.
Toggart and Mellem did not have time to contemplate the orders as they were hit by an onslaught of swords, driven back into an alcove and surrounded by trolls. Toggart was swearing at the other trolls in Old Troll while wielding his sword with agility and precision, for he was well-seasoned in the ways of battle.
“Where are all of these trolls coming from?!” He recognized some of the trolls from his village. He swore at one troll and called out to him by name. “Zeather, I am an elder in your village. Why do you attack me?!”
“You are no longer one of us for your heart has turned black and greedy.” His retort had momentarily stunned Toggart, distracting him. Zeather’s sword found flesh for he, too, was a seasoned swordsman.
Toggart screamed out in rage and threw everything he had at the troll. The surge caught Zeather off guard and he faltered with fatigue. He misjudged a thrust and thought he had stepped back far enough. His heart was pierced and he fell where he was standing. Toggart puffed out his chest and roared. “I am Toggart the Great! No one can match my sword!”
“Gertrude told me that you are a foul-mouthed, braggart troll. He also told me that you bear the forked tongue of a serpent.” King Octavius laughed.
Toggart’s boasting had caused him not to see the king, his stinging rebuke spurring the troll’s evil intent. “You shall taste the iron in my blade!” It was then that Toggart eyed Octavius’ sword and quickly glanced at his own weapon. As if time froze him in place, a split second later Octavius’ sword spun in front of his face and caught his skin. He bellowed in anger, “You shall pay for that, ugly human, and you shall die at the point of my sword!”
Octavius spied Gertrude off to his side, locking swords with Mellem. Octavius spoke loud enough for Gertrude to hear him. “You were right, my friend, Toggart is a braggart… But I must ask you, in all honesty, who is uglier - him or me…?”
Gertrude shouted, “Oh, my friend, I must be honest with you. Toggart is uglier by far.” Gertrude laughed and dodged Mellem’s blade. “Do you not see whose worthless hide I am fighting, Octavius? Is this not an old friend of yours?!”
Octavius glanced over at Lord Mellem. “Can’t say that I recognize the snake you are fighting. A friend would never deceive the other…” Octavius looked beyond Toggart and there stood Prince Edwin, quailing. His anger toward this usurper boiled. Toying with Toggart, he shouted, “Hey, ugly troll! Why do you protect the worthless being at your back?”
Toggart thrust his sword once again towards Octavius, missing his mark. “He has promised me money and power! I will be Grand Troll once more!” Toggart’s anger and arrogance was so great, he blurted out, “I killed to gain the title of Grand Troll once and I shall do it again!” Toggart swore underneath his breath. The evil troll glared at Gertrude as his old lies became truth. Somehow the truth had made him nervous and he faltered with his sword.
Without hesitation, Gertrude switched to fighting Toggart while Octavius fought Mellem. “You killed my father during battle…?” Gertrude sensed an unknown strength filling his whole being. His sword flew faster and he slashed Toggart across his idle arm.
Toggart winced and cried out, “You will die for that, Gertrude!” He lashed out at the younger troll and drew blood, catching Gertrude just below the shoulder, opening a large gash.
“You will have to do a lot better than that! Your aim is off, you deceitful, old pretender! Why did you kill him, why?!!” Gertrude switched his sword to the other hand.
“Your father was a weak leader! He always listened to King Norman and what he wanted. He stole your mother from me, too. I never forgave him for that…”
Octavius had been listening to parts of the conversation as he fought with Mellem and he realized why the name ‘Toggart’ had sounded so familiar. He glanced at Toggart. “Gertrude, my father was always telling me about your father’s bravery and how he was guarding his back during battle.” He had heard Sebastian fall and had turned around to see Toggart with a sword thrust through another troll. He had assumed that the stabbed troll had killed Sebastian.
Gertrude thought back to the story his mother had always told him, how it had been a human that had killed his father. “You told everyone another lie…!” Gertrude was having a hard time controlling his anger.
Toggart felt his own strength waning. “It was a lot easier to claim the title of Grand Troll and to tell everyone that it was a human that killed him. Everyone agreed with me that we should not mingle with the humans…”
While Octavius was fighting Mellem, two more people came into view, locked in battle. Gertrude realized that it was Norman contending with Prince Edwin. He did not have the time to watch either of his friends and hoped for the best. Gertrude found an opening and landed a blow to Toggart’s leg, leaving a deep wound. Toggart groaned and knew that this fight had to end soon or he would not see the light of the next day. He swung his sword with all of his might, but it was not enough. Gertrude’s sword found Toggart’s black heart. The old troll went to his knees, dropping his sword beside him, howling in anguish and fell dead.
A new fight ensued with a guard. He did not notice another guard approaching from his opposite side. A body collapsed to the side of him just as that guard’s sword fell an inch from his arm. To his amazement, there stood his mother in full fighting gear. Her sword had found its mark and had brought the guard down before his sword had found Gertrude. He knew that his mother was quite accomplished with a sword for she was the one who taught him what he knew about bearing a fighting sword. Gertrude nodded his head to his mother and watched as she took on another foe.
Norman was still locked in battle with Prince Edwin, the two evenly matched as neither of them had breached the other’s defense. “You will fall before me, Prince, either on your knees begging for mercy or with a sword through that serpent’s heart you bear as your own!” Norman lunged forward, missed and quickly withdrew.
“It is a shame you find
me so detestable… You would have made a wonderful queen and wife. It is you, however, that will be begging for mercy!” Edwin faked a bow as he parried with his sword.
“You mock me, Prince. I will be standing long after you have fallen. My father shall reclaim what is rightfully his!” Norman saw opportunity and her sword’s point ripped a gash in Edwin’s side.
“You witch! You will pay for scarring my body!” Edwin, filled with rage, lunged forward with increased fervor. “You bear a sword well, wench, but I will wear you down…!”
Norman again found an opening, but her sword only caught Edwin’s clothing, short of its mark. “You are good with your sword, Edwin, but you are a poor excuse for a king…!” Norman smiled smugly, knowing full well that it would ignite Edwin’s anger more.
Edwin lunged at Norman without noticing the point of her sword and it grazed his side. Recoiling in pain, he put a hand over his wound to see what damage it had done. Swearing and snarling like a mad dog, he swung his sword wildly, in anger. Shock and surprise filled his limpid blue eyes, the man gasping as Norman’s sword sunk into his rib cage. Falling onto one knee and then onto his side, life drained from the prince, his shocked expression the man’s last show of emotion.
Norman was suddenly overwhelmed by it all. She dropped her sword and fell to her knees, sobbing, for she had just taken a life. Momentarily losing touch with what was going on around her, Norman was thrown forward as she was hit from behind. She screamed in pain and horror.
The weight of another person held her down and she could not move. She tried to reach for her sword but it was beyond her grasp. Once again, she was overwhelmed by her situation and started crying. She felt two strong arms pulling on hers to help her up. It was Prince Xavier. Norman looked down to see that it had been Prince Thaddeus who had thrown himself upon her, his body pierced by a sword! He lay lifeless upon the floor.
Xavier held Norman close. “I saw Prince Thaddeus throw himself at you when a guard came lunging toward you with his sword. He bravely took the blow meant for you...” Norman looked at Xavier and buried her head in his shoulder and sobbed. Xavier moved the two of them to a corner and held his sword at the ready. He looked about the room and there were only four swordsmen left battling.