Chapter 19
“You did a good thing for him.” Tillendur glanced up at the moonlit ridge. Jebez sat alone, highlighted, his hyena form somehow more insulting now that his true story had been revealed.
“In his heart he wishes that he had been left to die, his regrets are deep. Yet he forgave me the part I played in his downfall.”
“Hardly any part at all,” Tillendur retorted, “You cannot be blamed. What I said to Gygax is the truth, the blame for any injury or mishap lies squarely with Krossus and Manus, you did not draw Manus to the darkness, he walked unaided.”
“We could discuss and debate these points until the end of time, and still never agree,” she sighed, “But his forgiveness is sufficient, I may sleep a little easier now.”
Feron broke into their silent thoughts, his own respect and sympathy for the Ghul now deeper. “Have we news of the Goblins? I saw him creep away before the light failed.”
“They have made camp.” Tillendur nodded, “So it is unlikely that their march will continue through the hours of darkness. Jebez feels sure that they will begin again before first light, but he assures us that we will remain well ahead of them, we will have plenty of time to scout the area that he suggests for an ambush.”
“I hope he is correct,” Ulaff added, “That they will be weakened.”
“I never thought that I would hear fear in your voice.” Feron replied quietly, as the Ogre voiced is own unspoken doubts.
“More a feeling of concern than fear,” Ulaff corrected. “Over one hundred and twenty against five, even if they are tired, the odds are not in our favour. If the Man soldiers do as we hope, and stand back, then my worries are small, but if they fall in against us...” he shook his head sadly, before murmuring, “Then, I think we will be hard pushed.”
“We must hope that a day without water will make them more open to discourse.” Fiorina added to the conversation, she had read Tillendur's thoughts, always he searched for a diplomatic solution to the problems faced. “It is possible that fatigue and thirst will drive them to surrender after our first assault. Even I would not wish to kill all, if talk and sense can save even a few.”
“Noble sentiments,” snarled Jebez as he slunk back into the circle of firelight, “But do not set your hopes too high, I know these Goblin scum, as should you. They will ask for no quarter.” He slumped down beside the fire, his eyes glowing, the normally amber flecked yellow catching the wavering light and shining a deep orange. “But recent discovery has given me a heavy heart. My own kind still march with them, and with recollection has come morality and conscience. How can I slaughter my own?”
“I still believe that they will take no part.” Fiorina offered, “And I cannot explain why I hold this belief... but the feeling is strong.”
“I hope you are correct,” Jebez sighed deeply, “For the first time in a thousand years doubt haunts me.”
“Then you should feel blessed,” Tillendur reached forward and placed a hand on the hyena's shoulder, its flesh twitching at the unexpected intimacy. “Your mortal soul has been returned to you. Given the choice, I think I would prefer to live with regret and conscience, that live a life unfeeling.”
“Easy words to speak for those without the weight of guilt and shame,” Jebez shuffled away from the friendly touch. “But my burden is heavy, maybe too heavy for me to carry, for my crimes are heinous, and many, and I know that eventually the hunger will take me again, and that is a great fear in my heart. As yet, I cannot feel blessed, but given time... who knows?”
“Aye lad,” Feron grunted as he located yet another tick clinging to his calf, “Guilt is a terrible burden to carry, but consider this, with every act of honour and decency, the weight will be reduced.”
“That thought offers me some comfort.” Jebez stood and smiled, if the curling of his lip to expose yellow canine teeth could be recognised as such. “Now friends, the night draws on, and we must leave early, sleep if you can. I must wander alone for a space, I need time with my memories.”
“There is much commotion around their camp!” Jebez ran over the lip of the crater calling aloud, “They have spent many hours searching, scouring the plains around.”
“What can this mean?” asked Ulaff as the hyena melted to be replaced by the vague image of a Man, deformed and half canine, yet now his true heritage clearly to be seen.
“I know not,” he panted, “Possibly they came under attack during the darkness. I have been remiss, I should have been watching them instead of roaming and sulking.”
“What of the keeper?” Tillendur's tone became urgent.
“I did not see him, but do not presume too much, I was unable to creep close too the camp, for the Goblins were thick upon the plains, I did not want to risk being seen. Now they have resumed their march, so we must make haste.”
“We are ready.” said Fiorina as she glanced to the east, the glow of dawn chasing night from the sky, “Lead on Jebez, and let this day play out as it will.”
“I feel torn.”
Fiorina nodded as she heard Tillendur's words, “I also, half of me wants to go forward and wait as planned, yet my other half cries that we should detour, try to make some sense of the questions that hover over their camp site.”
“Exactly,” Tillendur replied, “I do not like uncertainty, but we have no choice in this matter, we must go forward and prepare. It will aid us little to discover that last night had been nothing more than a petty squabble, if the prize slips through our fingers into the desert.”
“I feel the desert now, I smell the sand and heat, we are close,” Fiorina tugged at the collar of her deerskin tunic, “It is strange, I have never experienced the feeling of cold, even in the depths of the harshest winter, yet this heat is becoming an agony, I feel its intensity, and this outward show of modesty begins to strangle me.”
“Be strong my love,” the Elf drew his horse closer and laid a hand on her thigh. “I cannot pretend to understand how these clothes stifle you, but I beg you, offer no distraction yet, we have hard and earnest work ahead, we all need our minds to be clear.”
“As you wish,” she sighed, “But understand me well, when all of this adventure is behind us, when we can find peace in the woodlands together... never again will I hide myself away.”
“Nor would I want you to,” Tillendur laughed quietly, “Then I will welcome the distractions.”
Onward they rode as the sun travelled in a wide arc to reach its zenith. A fierce and burning wind swept across the plains, devouring moisture and sapping strength. The riders sweat constantly, but received no cooling as perspiration dried almost the second it appeared. Ulaff faired worst. He jogged between the horses, often resting his weight across their broad backs, but the relief he gained proved little, they were also suffering, their stamina faltering.
“How far now?” he panted as he called a rest, and drawing the cork stopper from his bottle he drained the contents in one long gulp.
“No more than two hours,” Jebez replied, “We have made good time, we will reach the pools many hours ahead of the Goblin host, we will be well rested when they finally arrive.”
“I have more confidence now,” Feron agreed, nodding as he stroked his beard, “Even carrying enough water I feel weak and drained, I can only imagine how they must feel, having had no sup today. Certainly not prepared to fight, of that I feel sure.”
“They wasted many hours of the cool dawn in their search, they will be paying for that delay now,” Jebez growled, “But come friends, we must move, for although you drink, your horses suffer. But take heart, soon they will smell water on the wind and their hearts will strengthen, and their pace increase. Let us away!”
True to his word, it seemed only minutes later that the horses reacted, their ears flickering, nostrils flared wide as the aroma of life-giving water wafted over them, carried from the very edge of the desert.
“I can smell it too,” laughed Fiorina as she patted her now attentive mounts solid nec
k, “So let us go forward quickly, then you can drink your fill.”
Gently the land began to slope, always gradually down. The horizon steadily became a blur, the grasslands shimmering as the travellers stared into a heat haze that seemed to distort even time.
“Two hours, that's what you said!” Feron glanced up at the searing sun, shading his eyes with his hand. “My apologies lad, that time has not yet passed, but it feels to me that we have ridden many times two hours now.”
“These plains, and the desert feed confusion to the minds of those not accustomed,” answered Jebez quietly, “But have no fear, the pools lie close by, only minutes away. If it were not for the haze, already you would see the swaying palms.”
“Then let us make haste, my thirst is raging... and if you were to offer me a foaming cask of ale, or a gallon of plain water right now, I would surely choose the water first. Never before in my life have I longed so much for something so easily taken for granted.”
Ulaff fell headlong into the cool blue-green water, emerging some minutes later with an expression of ecstasy on his broad face. “Never has anything tasted so sweet,” he laughed, “To gain such joy from something so simple. And I feel my strength and vitality returning even as I speak.”
Tillendur smiled, he had not suffered as his mortal friends, but it warmed his heart to witness their happiness.
“You do not drink?” Feron turned to the Ghul who sat apart on his haunches.
“I have no need, my body requires no fluid, I am between worlds, never drinking, never sleeping... never dying,” he added with a pained whisper, memories of mortality weighing heavy in his mind. “But I would give a great deal to be able to feel, to feel thirst, to feel the sun or the wind on my face. All that this body is capable of feeling is the hunger.”
“I am sorry,” Feron bowed low, “Please forgive my careless words, there is so much that I do not understand about your kind.”
Jebez laughed and walked down into the water, “No offence taken, I complain too much. But tell me, does it truly feel that good, is this water cooling?”
“Aye lad, it is cool and refreshing, and after the heat of the plains... well, let me say this, the pleasure compares to a fine meal, washed down with ruby red wine, and the company of a warm and willing companion.”
“Some of those things I remember,” Jebez chuckled, “So it must be pleasurable indeed. Now let us rest a while in the shade of the palms. I am sure that we have still at least five hours before they arrive. Eat and allow your confidence to grow, for I am sure that their whole company will not arrive. Many will have fallen along the road.”
The edge of the desert was marked by a long line of pools, some large, almost lakes, others no more than shallow ponds, their waters muddied by multitudes of feet, the feet of many creatures both great and small, that relied on them for life.
Tillendur and his company rested beside a crystal clear pool, fed from below by a spring that forced its way up through the rocks, its waters always fresh and cool. Fringed by stately palm trees the pool offered relief from the constant wind, while the trees cast dappled shade, perfect for relaxation and recuperation.
“I cannot understand why there is no settlement built here.” mused Ulaff, “There are two on the plains, but not here on the edge of the desert.”
Jebez, who had assumed his more human form simply shrugged. “Who can say for sure, but there is a settlement close by in the desert, a very large settlement with many thousands of Goblins and their kin. Only two or three hours walk ahead, maybe that is why they have never defiled this place. Usually they stagger from the plains, slake their thirsts, and after a few hours of rest they hurry on again.”
“We must soon prepare our ambush,” sighed Tillendur, his shoulders down, and expression troubled as he thought of the conflict ahead. “Right here, using the trees as cover would be the perfect place, yet it burns my heart to imagine these pleasant waters sullied by black Goblin blood.”
“Then we shall meet them on the road, they will be too weak to outflank us. And I am sure that they will try to drive directly through to the water. I vote that we meet them head on, take the fight to them.” Feron growled, his strength restored he anticipated the action ahead.
“I am with my brother,” Ulaff nodded, a grin breaking out, “As I feel now, give them all to me, I will reap them like wheat.”
“Then it is agreed,” Tillendur added with a sigh, “But still your passions for a while, there will still be many, let Fiorina and I reduce their numbers with arrows before you charge.”
“A wise plan,” Jebez concurred, “You confront them on the road, I will circle around their flank, and when you offer battle, I will fall upon their rear, we will have them between the hammer and the anvil.”
Tillendur nodded his agreement and felt Fiorina encourage him quietly, “There is still some hope my love,” she hinted, “They may not have the spirit to fight.”
“If they beg for mercy, we must curb our rage, I would have none killed upon their knees. We are warriors of the Guild, we are not barbarians!” Although Tillendur encompassed the entire group with his statement, both Feron and Ulaff knew that the order had been given for their ears alone, and both their heads nodded solemn agreement.
“Then, as the sun is now travelling rapidly toward the west, let us march, and meet them before the evening, offer battle or accept their surrender while the sun is still high and fierce.”
In silent accord the band set out, Tillendur and Fiorina leading, bows ready, Ulaff and Feron followed, sword drawn and hammer poised. And aside, slightly ahead, a hyena loped through the dried grass, his sturdy legs rapidly putting distance between himself and the four warriors on the road.
“I see them, on the horizon” whispered Fiorina.
“As do I,” replied Tillendur, confusion in his voice, “But they are very greatly reduced in numbers. It is difficult to count through the haze, but I see no more than twenty or so.”
“You are correct,” Fiorina gasped, “And they are the Man, I see no Goblins.”
Moments later Jebez appeared from the grass, rising to his feet in a mist his expression matched Tillendur's confusion. “You have seen for yourselves?” he questioned before glancing ahead at the party of soldiers in the distance.
“There are no Goblins among them?”
Jebez shook his head, and pain flashed in his eyes. “There are no Goblins, not one, only Man, my own people.” He turned to Fiorina slowly, dragging the words painfully from deep inside. “There are no Goblins... and no Keeper... he has gone!”