“And we’ll all be there together someday?” she questioned.
A smile came to Halandor’s face, his mind touching on his wife and daughter and the other loved ones he’d lost in his lifetime. “Yes.”
Makilien too thought of her family again. She wanted more than anything for them to be with her in the Kingdom. But what if that didn’t happen?
“What about those who don’t believe?” Makilien was almost afraid to ask. It troubled her greatly to think of what might happen to her parents, Leiya, and Aedan.
A sobering expression erased all signs of Halandor’s smile. “Eternal separation and suffering.”
Makilien swallowed hard. She was desperate to keep that from happening to her family, but it was out of her hands. Looking down the line of soldiers, her heart suddenly filled with sorrow. How many here truly believed the truth and had faith in Elohim? How many tonight would die without it?
Inevitable darkness crept in as evening descended. A shout from Carmine broke the quiet waiting.
“They’re coming!”
Makilien jumped up, looking out into the deepening gloom. The torches the enemy had lit raced closer. The sight of thousands upon thousands of torches moving in their direction was terrifying. Immediately, Nirgon shouted orders.
“Everyone back into position! Ready your weapons!”
Makilien took her place again at the front and readied her bow, watching the army’s fast approach. Their marching sounded like thunder rolling in from the distance.
Makilien worked to control her heart rate and steady her breathing. Then Sirion said to her, “Once Nirgon gives the order, fire as quickly as you can.”
Makilien gave a quick nod, her mouth dry.
Very soon, the army was less than half a mile from the city. An internal battle had already been fought for Makilien’s soul. Now the physical battle for the life of every person present and those they fought for was about to be waged.
Chapter Twenty-two
The Battle is Waged
Makilien flexed her fingers around her bow. Any moment now, Nirgon would give the order to fire. Zirtan’s force was only a few hundred yards away. Makilien could see now that goblins led the charge followed closely by Shaikes. The sharp shrieks of the goblins as they raced toward the wall were chilling.
“Prepare to fire!” Nirgon’s order was barely heard over the shrieking.
Makilien drew back her bowstring and picked out one of the many thousands of goblins to aim at.
Next came Nirgon’s order for the Elves to fire. All the goblins in the middle of the first line toppled over at once. A moment later, the general commanded, “Eldorians, fire!”
Makilien released her arrow with the rest of the army. Their hail of projectiles rained down on the opposing force. The shrieks and squeals of the dying goblins reached an even higher pitch than those of the living.
Following Sirion’s advice, Makilien fired one arrow after another as fast as she could pull them from her quiver. A loud whoosh of air came after her fourth shot, and she glanced to her left. All three dragons flew off the wall. Carmine swooped down toward the enemy first. Passing directly over them, a cascade of molten liquid and white hot flames poured from his open mouth, coating more than a hundred goblins and Shaikes. The dragon’s barrage of fire lasted for several seconds before it died away, and he angled high into the air.
Emaril came next to attack. By now, enemy archers had lined up near the front and fired at the dragon. Most bounced off the thick armor protecting his underside, but right at the end, two arrows punctured the membrane of Emaril’s left wing. He growled in pain and lifted higher into the air. An enraged roar came from Indiya as she dove toward the archers, spraying them with scorching flames.
Dying screams and the smell of burnt cloth and flesh drifted up to the wall. Makilien wanted to hold her breath, but it would be only a temporary relief. She couldn’t help gazing up at the three dragons circling above, wondering how long it would be until they could attack with fire again, but then she remembered she should be firing her bow and pulled out another arrow.
Now many goblins and Shaikes had reached the base of the wall. Makilien wondered how they meant to reach the top, but didn’t have a chance to find an answer before the enemy archers released a volley of arrows. Dark streaks shot toward them, and everyone ducked. But some weren’t fast enough. The arrows’ barbed points punched through armor followed by the cries of the wounded. Other arrows ricocheted off the stones.
Suddenly, something much larger than an arrow flew over the wall, landing with a loud metallic clank a couple of feet away. It was a large, three pronged hook with a thick rope attached to the end. After a strong tug on the rope, the hook clawed up tight against the parapet. All at once, clanking sounded all around as over a hundred of the same hooks sailed up and over the wall.
“Cut the ropes!” The shout came from Nirgon.
Makilien jumped up from her crouched position. She dropped her bow and yanked out her sword. The line of archers now broken, Halandor and Torick rushed to the front and hacked at the rope of the nearest hook. But as many as were cut, more replaced them. In only a few moments, goblins swarmed over the parapet. They lunged for anyone nearby, using their jagged blades and even their teeth to inflict as much damage as possible.
As the wicked creatures surged onto the wall, Makilien gripped her sword with both hands to face them. The moment one was within reach, she swung hard and it dropped instantly. But those behind it were not as unprepared. Her next swing connected with a goblin’s sword and she found herself facing three goblins all trained on her.
They lunged simultaneously, and Makilien had to move fast. She jumped to the side to avoid one and swung her sword widely to deter the others. With a downward slash, she severed an arm, leaving only two goblins able to fight. One was not nearly as quick as its companions and was easily defeated, and soon the last was also dead.
Makilien’s eyes darted all around. She wasn’t in immediate danger, but goblins filled the wall faster than Eldor’s soldiers were able to cut the ropes of the grappling hooks. Spotting one hook unguarded in front of her, Makilien rushed to it and cut at the strands of rope.
She had barely managed to hack through half of it when the huge, snarling head of a Shaike popped up over the wall. Startled, Makilien jumped back, nearly tripping over a dead goblin. Lugging its bulky body over the parapet, the Shaike straightened to its full height, facing her. The menacing creature stood almost two feet taller than she did, silhouetted by the torchlight. She gripped her sword so fiercely her hands shook a little as she looked up into the creature’s evil, glinting eyes.
“Please, Elohim, help me,” Makilien pleaded breathlessly.
The Shaike growled deep in its throat and raised the massive four-foot-long blade of its sword. Makilien swung hers to meet it. Her hands went numb at the impact, and she wasn’t sure if she still held her sword as the force of the blow sent it toward the ground. When a little sensation returned to her tingling fingers, she was relieved to find them still curled around the hilt.
Makilien stumbled back, trying to get away from the horrible monster, but it followed, raising its sword above its head. She had no choice but to block. Again, her strength was no match for the Shaike’s. One hand slipped from the hilt, and the attack forced her sword off to the side, the Shaike’s blade narrowly missing her arm.
Grasping her sword with two hands again, Makilien knew she must do something soon to stop the Shaike. She didn’t have the strength or the energy to keep blocking its attacks. Then she remembered Torick saying Shaikes were not very intelligent creatures and stood still as the Shaike swung widely. At the last second, Makilien ducked and the blade cut through the air above her head. Before the creature could even complete its swing, Makilien swung her own sword toward its meaty legs. The Shaike roared in pain as Makilien’s sword sliced through several inches of flesh and muscle just above its knee. As it doubled over, Makilien yanked out Aedan’s dagg
er and thrust it up through a gap in the Shaike’s armor. It toppled over at her feet, and she returned the dagger to the sheath.
The wall lit up, and Makilien spun around. Carmine skimmed the very edge of the wall, flaming the goblins and Shaikes climbing up their ropes. Makilien put her arm up as he passed to shield her face from the intense heat of his fire.
Distracted, Makilien didn’t know at first what caused the horrible pain shooting through her left arm. She cried out at the intensity of it and looked down into the bulging eyes of a goblin. Its mouth was clamped down on her elbow, the only part exposed between her chain-mail and vambrace. Like thick needles, its teeth punctured her skin and scraped against bone.
Makilien slammed the pommel of her sword into the side of the goblin’s head, but instead of letting go, it bit down harder. Makilien groaned and raised her sword to strike. Now the goblin did release her arm but lunged for a sword dropped by a fallen goblin. Before it could reach the weapon, a rush of air swept across Makilien’s face. The goblin was lifted, shrieking into the night sky and flung over the parapet. Makilien looked up to see a griffon bank sharply to the right and fly farther down the wall. She wondered if it had been Arphen, but it had grown too dark to tell.
Makilien touched her arm gingerly. It ached with a deep, throbbing pain and little rivulets of blood oozed from the puncture wounds, yet she knew she couldn’t let it distract her.
Carmine’s attack on the ropes had not stopped the goblins and Shaikes for long. Many more swarmed up. Makilien barely had time to breathe before she was assailed by a new slew of goblins. Though the army tried to cut the ropes of the grappling hooks, the number of enemies that had reached the top made it difficult to stop fighting long enough to do so.
Without warning, a new grappling hook flew over the wall, almost hitting Makilien in the shoulder. She scooted sideways, but one of the prongs caught on the skirt of her dress and her chain-mail, pinning them against the wall. Makilien tried to pull away, but it held fast and the hook would not budge because of the goblins already on their way up the rope. She turned to cut it, but two goblins rushed to attack her. Makilien fought them off as best she could without being able to change positions. Realizing she was stuck, the goblins made every effort to keep her from cutting the rope.
Panic flared inside Makilien. The first of the climbing goblins would reach the top at any moment. If she did not get free before then, she’d have no chance. She pulled with all her might against her chain-mail, but her feet slipped on the blood-slicked stones.
“Help!” Makilien cried desperately, but she didn’t think anyone would hear her over the din of battle.
Makilien swung hard at the goblins in front of her, but they jumped back jeering at her. They taunted her, jabbing their swords, waiting to finish her off as soon as the others reached the top of the wall. Makilien truly believed she was about to die when a blade slashed across the backs of the goblins, taking them both out at once. Behind them stood Sirion, and relief flooded Makilien.
In the same moment, a goblin reached the parapet and hissed down at her. Before she had a chance to react, Sirion knocked it back over the edge and severed the rope. Without the tension, the grappling hook tipped over, freeing Makilien’s chain-mail.
“Thank you,” Makilien gasped.
“Stay close,” he told her. “I don’t think we can hold them off here for much longer.”
Makilien did stay close to him, fighting side by side and sometimes back to back. They made a good team, she realized, but Sirion was right. The wall was being overrun.
At last, a voice echoed overhead as Arphen flew over. “Everyone to your horses!”
Fighting all the way, Makilien and Sirion made it to the stairs and hurried down with the other soldiers. Below the wall, Makilien called for Antiro. A whinny sounded above the commotion and she spotted him trotting toward her.
“All right, boy, this is it,” Makilien said and swung herself up into his saddle.
She looked around for Sirion. When she saw him mounting close by, she directed Antiro toward him. Glancing around again, she found Halandor and Loron, and Darand and Darian. It comforted and strengthened her to see the faces of friends. Makilien also spotted Nirgon at the gate, and everyone rallied around him, ready to follow him out.
As the gates began to open, Indiya flew along the wall, blasting any of the enemies still on top with fire. When the gate had opened enough, Makilien saw Carmine and Emaril were bombarding the nearby enemies, giving the soldiers an opening to ride.
Though Makilien could not hear him, Nirgon said something and a loud battle cry swept through their army, giving Makilien goose bumps. The order was given and everyone charged through the gate to meet Zirtan’s force. Makilien clutched her sword tightly in one hand and Antiro’s reins in the other. She didn’t know what to expect so she just held on and waited.
Grass and bodies on fire from the dragon’s attacks lit up the area in front of the wall, but smoke made it difficult to see anything clearly. Makilien’s eyes stung and watered, and she coughed, gagging at the stench of blood and burning creatures.
A deafening crash resonated as the two armies met. Their charge slowed. Some horses went down, whinnying in pain and terror. Metal clashed all around. Enemies surged through the ranks. In seconds, goblins and Shaikes swarmed around Makilien. Raising her sword, she hewed at any within reach.
On and on, beast after beast. Sweat poured from her body, her muscles cramped and ached, and with every swing, her sword seemed to grow heavier. The hilt of it was slick with a mixture of sweat and blood making it difficult to wield. As the roar of battle drummed in her ears, the terrifying tumult all around left her feeling dazed. She was exhausted, yet she had to keep swinging. She must not quit.
She raised her head again to search for her friends, but she was unable to recognize anyone in the roiling mass of bodies and horses. And then, before she could see it coming, the blunt end of a long spear jabbed into Makilien’s side, knocking her off of Antiro. She landed hard, her ribs aching and her breaths coming in short gasps. Despite the pain and exhaustion, she stumbled up, afraid of being trampled. She tried to get back to Antiro, but several goblins and Shaikes now separated them.
“Antiro!” Makilien screamed.
She hacked at the enemies, but more and more took their places. Antiro was driven farther away until Makilien completely lost sight of him. Her worst nightmare came to be. She was all alone in the midst of thousands of enemies. Panic took hold of her. She backed away from the battle, but tripping on something hidden in the darkness, she fell. Tears filled her eyes and fear gripped her heart. She didn’t think she had the strength to rise and fight again. She tried once, but collapsed.
“I can’t do this,” she cried.
But then, someone took her arms and lifted her up.
“You are not alone, Makilien.”
For a moment, the sound of battle faded away. That voice . . . it sounded like . . . Meniah!
Makilien spun around. But no one was there. She looked everywhere, but no one was near enough to have helped her up or spoken to her. Was she to imagining things?
Yet the determination and strength growing inside her were not imagined. She remembered what Vonawyn had told her right before battle. She was not alone. A new surge of energy coursed through her body. Raising her sword, she charged back into battle.
Fighting on the battlefield was much different than fighting from the wall. Now she encountered men as well as goblins and Shaikes. Battling and killing another Human being was not the same, but when she saw the evil and the hatred in their eyes, she knew she must fight them the same or she would never survive.
The longer the battle wore on, the less the dragons were able to attack with fire for fear of killing Eldor’s soldiers now mixed with the enemy. But their dark forms flew overhead with the griffons, attacking with their claws and teeth from above. Everywhere was darkness except right near the wall where fires still burned, casting an eerie oran
ge glow on the silvery stones.
Right in the midst of the battle, a tremor vibrated the ground. A moment later, Makilien felt it again. It continued until everyone to her right scattered. Her eyes lifted. Looming up in the darkness was a yet darker silhouette of a giant figure. Fifteen feet tall, it lumbered toward her, vibrating the ground with each step.
A troll!
Makilien dove out of the way as a giant foot stomped down exactly where she had been standing. It was more rounded than oblong and had five stubby toes, more like rocks than appendages. The rest of the creature was cloaked in darkness, but Makilien had no time to study it further. Several more trolls were on their way coming straight for her. Dashing behind the first troll, she moved out of their path.
In no time, their long strides brought them near the wall, and Makilien was able to observe them in the firelight. Their legs were thick and rough like old, gnarled trees, and their skin was the same dark gray as tree bark. With hunched backs, their long muscular arms reached to their knees. Situated on short necks between bulging shoulders, their heads were small compared to the rest of their body. Tangled, stringy hair fell down around long faces sporting square jaws, long crooked noses, and brows jutting out over small, dull eyes. In their long fingered fists, each one carried a club, which Makilien realized were small trees ripped out by the roots.
Five of these club-wielding trolls stopped at the city gate and smashed any of Eldor’s soldiers who were unfortunate enough to be within their reach. Once they had cleared the area, four more trolls made their way to the gate. Between them they carried a huge tree trunk with a metal cap on the end, which they used as a battering ram on the gate. The reverberating sound of the metal cap smashing against the iron gates made Makilien’s ears ring.
Above the ringing and the commotion, someone shouted, “Stop the trolls!”
Archers, mostly Elves, gathered in a wide semi-circle around the giant creatures and fired, but goblins and Shaikes rushed to attack the archers from behind. Coming to their aid, riders and foot soldiers attempted to create a protective barrier.