Chapter 9: Nine: Ambush

A heavy sky loomed over the wagon as travelled down a dirt road, kicking up plumes of dust as its wooden wheels creaked forward. The road skirted along the edge of a marsh on one side and a forest on the other.

“The smell is vile,” Sarah groaned, “how long until we get out of the marsh?”

The marsh to their right bubbled as their wagon rolled past, releasing the stench of rotten eggs into the air.

“It’ll take another five hours or so to clear the marsh,” the driver laughed from the front of the wagon. His name was Dave. He was a farmer in his forties looking to make some extra money now that there wasn’t much farming to be done. His face was leathered and wrinkled from years of abuse from the sun, and he was always up for a conversation.

“Just be glad you didn’t come down this way in the summer. The smell’s worse and there are swarms of insects looking to eat you alive.”

“Five hours?” Grimald asked as he raised his head to look around, “you’re setting a brisk pace, sir.”

“So you noticed?” the driver grunted, “have you been this way before?”

Sensing danger, Udoriol and John stirred from their naps. This had been their third wagon since leaving Parindale and they had only been riding it for the last twenty or so miles.

“Once or twice,” the dwarf allowed, “any reason for the rush?”

“It’s not like I was keeping it from you or nothin’,” he began, “I reckoned you’d have heard about it back in Lisel.”

“Heard about what?” Grimald asked as he searched their surroundings for any signs of danger.

“Well, a wagon went missing yesterday,” Dave said, “well, not missing, overdue. There’s been talk of strange folk plying the route as well.”

“What sort of strange folk?” Grimald demanded.

“Folk who aren’t from around here,” the driver replied and shrugged, “we’re out in the boonies. It doesn’t take much to be called strange.”

“Would you consider us strange?” Sarah ventured.

The driver turned around and arched an eyebrow. “A dwarf, an elf and two humans travelling together? That’s plenty strange, innit? You’ll be the talk of the town for years and years.”

“The route dangerous,” Sarah remarked, not wanting to get side-tracked, “I’m surprised you decided to take us.”

“Well,” Sarah could hear an embarrassed smile in their driver’s voice, “thing is, I was needin’ to go down to Mill Hill anyway and you lot look armed to the gills, so I thought, why not?”

“Plus, you’re paying me for the pleasure,” he added with a hearty laugh.

“How long has that wagon been missing?” Grimald asked sharply.

Dave stroked his stubbly chin for a moment before replying, “oh, I don’t know, two or three days?”

“The thing is,” Dave continued, “Lord Nestor’s men don’t really patrol this road on account of the stench, so it’s not uncommon for bandits to set up camp along it.”

He turned around and grinned toothily, “for a while anyway until the smell drives them off. Can’t say it bothers us Liselnians, though I suppose we’d have no choice but to grin and bear it even if it did.”

Grimald gave the others a look that told them to be prepared for anything at any time. The dwarf adjusted his axe so that he could retrieve it at a moment’s notice and Udoriol did the same with his longsword. He also adjusted his shield so that it would protect his vitals if they came under sudden arrow attack.

Sarah looked up the road for signs of trouble, but all she saw was the same monotonous scenery they had endured for the last half an hour, though now, the shadows cast by the trees seemed more sinister as did the yellow rushes that grew along the water’s edge. Tensions were high as they continued their journey, fraying her nerves and she was thoroughly exhausted three hours later when they came across a fallen log blocking their path.

“It could be a legitimate accident,” Dave remarked, more for his own benefit.

The others scanned the forest. The undergrowth was thick there. A prime place for an ambush. John tapped the others and cocked his head to their right, where across a short stretch of water, was the remains of a tree. Its rotted branches were bare, and it stood amidst the water like a jagged, decrepit sentinel.

“Set that on fire, would you?” Grimald whispered.

Sarah raised her eyebrows.

“It’s surrounded by water,” the dwarf pointed out, “so I don’t think you have to be concerned with collateral damage.”

Udoriol patted Dave on the shoulder. “Please don’t be alarmed by what you are about to see.”

“Eh?” Dave asked.

Sarah took a deep breath and tried to shrug off her fears. Just use her power like she always did. If the presence tried to wrest control again, she would just wrest it back. Simple. Was it? She asked herself. They were in a small wooden wagon. If she became engulfed in flames again, someone could easily get hurt, or worse…

She felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned to see Grimald looking at her. “You can do it, lass.”

Sarah nodded and steeled her resolve. “Agni, lord of fire, hear my prayer,” Sarah chanted, “grant me your strength to turn my enemies into ash.”

She felt slightly sickened as the familiar power welled up within her. Dispelling her unease, she pointed at the tree. “Fireball.”

Dave gasped as a blue fireball shot from her finger and exploded as it struck the tree, reducing it to burning splinters. Two bodies, engulfed in blue flame leapt from the ruined tree and into the water, but it was no use. Their bodies continued to burn for a while before the fire was finally extinguished by the fetid water.

Arrows flew out from the undergrowth to their left. Grimald grabbed Dave by the collar, dragging him into the cover of the wagon’s foot high sides as arrows whistled overhead. Meanwhile, Udoriol moved to cover Sarah with his shield. John scampered out the back and darted into the undergrowth with the short sword he had taken from one of the Faceless in his hand.

Sarah leapt out of the right side of the wagon as more arrows whizzed overhead, allowing Grimald and Udoriol to leap out as well. Screams came from the undergrowth as John found the first of the ambushers.

Eight black shapes burst from the undergrowth, wielding scimitars. Grimald struck one in the chest with a two handed blow from his axe while Udoriol sidestepped another’s spear and lopped its head off with his longsword. The elf raised his hand and a bolt of shimmering energy lanced out from it, striking down another foe.

“Orcs!” Dave cried as he poked his head up out of cover.

Sarah scrambled around the edge of the wagon as another shriek came from the undergrowth. She poked her head around and saw Grimald and Udoriol squaring off against five orcs. Orcs had a reputation as ferocious fighters and she looked desperately for a way she could help tip the scales in their favour. However, just beyond them was the forest with its dense undergrowth. It had not rained for weeks, according to Dave, and the shrubs were dry and yellowed, a tinderbox ready to turn into a blaze at the slightest spark. She couldn’t use her powers, especially with John somewhere in there…

Udoriol attempted to raise his shield arm to release another spell, but an orc lunged at him, obliging him to move to block its axe. Another occupied Grimald while the remainder attempted to flank the pair. They were caught off guard as John burst out of the undergrowth, shooting one in the back with his short bow and gutting another with his short sword.

Sarah raised her hand to the sky. “Fire blast!” she shouted.

A bolt of fire shot out of her hand and exploded just above the waters of the marsh. The orcs were caught off guard, and Sarah’s companions did not miss the opportunity to capitalize. In an instant, two more orcs fell. The third and final orc decided that it had enough and took to its heels back into the undergrowth.

John raised his bow and was about to fire, when Udoriol barked, “we should take that one alive.”

John scowled and adjusted his aim a hair's breadth before letting off his shot. The arrow sailed true and struck the orc in the hip. The creature shrieked as it stumbled and fell.

“Any more out there?” Grimald asked.

John shook his head, “none that I could see.”

“Is it over?” came Dave’s trembling voice from the wagon.

“I’d stay low for a while, while we make sure,” Udoriol replied as he strode purposefully towards the stricken orc.

The elf raised his shield and an axe, flung by the orc as it lay on the ground, glanced off. “Calm yourself,” Udoriol ordered, “I should warn you that I am a healer of considerable skill.”

“What kind of threat is that?” the orc laughed.

Udoriol raised his sword menacingly. “It means that you’d be surprised how much pain I can keep you alive through.”

The orc turned a lighter shade of green briefly as Sarah approached him while Grimald stood off to the forest to act as a lookout. John began poking through the bodies of the dead orcs, looking for clues, or anything valuable.

Udoriol muttered a quick incantation and a circle of light shimmered into being around him and the orc.

“Now then,” the elf said, “I have some questions.”

The orc raised an eyebrow. “What are you, an elvish paladin?”

“I’m the one asking the questions here,” Udoriol replied evenly, “are there any of your fellows out there?”

The orc’s mouth moved, but no sound came out.

“Treto will permit no lies in here,” Udoriol warned and ran the tip of his blade against the orc’s leg for effect, “now, are there any other orcs out there?”

“No.”

“What is your kind doing all the way out here?” Udoriol demanded.

The orc spat deftly, and his spittle struck the elf’s boot. “You don’t scare me, dog of Treto. Your god is all about mercy, isn’t He?”

The orc gritted his teeth as Udoriol plunged his blade into the creature’s muscled thigh and began screaming when the elf twisted the blade before pulling it out.

“We can be hard when the need arises.” The lack of emotion in the elf’s voice sent chills down Sarah’s spine.

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“Talk. I can do this all day,” Udoriol threatened.

The orc paled. “We were on our way to Corrington but were stopped by humans at the next town.”

The orc’s lips curled into a sneer. “It seems they didn’t think they had to abide by the Treaty of Esthorne, so we were stuck here while we planned our next move.”

“What do you intend to do in Corrington?” Udoriol demanded.

Silence. Udoriol plunged the tip of his sword into the creature’s other thigh. “I’ll talk, I’ll talk!” the creature squealed, “we have been told to gather there to usher the coming of the new member of the Pantheon.”

“Ratri?” Udoriol asked

The orc nodded.

“I thought most orcs were Agni worshippers.”

“Fat lot of good that did us at Ush Kodr,” the orc spat, using the Orcish word name for Lanfer, “no, these new priests, they have shown us the power of Ratri’s favour and have promised the power to claim our own homes once the Night Goddess ascends to the Pantheon.”

“You orcs forfeited the rights to your lands when you marched against the Four Kingdoms,” John remarked as he searched one of the orcs he had killed off in the undergrowth.

“Only six clans marched against your human kingdoms,” the orc protested, “and that was because your kings claimed lands that had always been theirs! And yet, after the six clans lost, your victorious alliance cast all orcs out of their lands!”

John shot Sarah an inquisitive look. She nodded. What the orc said was true. The victorious kings had spread propaganda on the justness of their war, and how the orcs were little more than bloodthirsty savages, but the cold hard facts of the matter were not difficult to find, that the Four Kingdoms and their dwarven allies were undoubtedly the aggressors.

“So, how are you and your ilk going to elevate Ratri into the Pantheon?” Udoriol demanded.

The orc went wide-eyed, “I don’t know. They didn’t tell us that much. Only to go to Corrington and await Her ascension!”

“Is this everything you know?” the elf pressed.

“Yes, yes, yes, it is,” the orc wailed.

Udoriol looked down upon the orc with pitiless eyes and for a moment, Sarah feared he would kill the orc now that he was done with his questions. Instead, the elf bowed his head in prayer. Brilliant white light engulfed the elf’s hand which he touched to the orc’s wounds.

The orc’s eyes widened in bewilderment as he looked up at Udoriol. “Why?”

“I apologize for putting you through all that,” Udoriol said, “but we needed to know.”

Udoriol sheathed his sword and the orc got to his feet warily.

“How do you feel?” the elf asked.

“Fine, all things considered,” the orc replied as he eyed John who had returned from the woods, “what do we do now?”

Udoriol turned to Grimald and said, “I suggest we let him go. A lone orc’s no threat.”

“What about justice, eh?” came Dave’s voice from the wagon, “ask him what happened to Ron’s wagon.”

“We plundered it for food,” the orc replied, “but we spared the driver and sent him on his way on foot. He’s probably already reached Mill Hill by now.”

“He’s lying!” cried said, still cowering behind cover.

“He can’t lie,” Grimald called back, eyeing the shimmering circle, “I agree, we’ll spare him. Give him some food our food too.”

“Really?” John asked incredulously.

“I know the truth about the war against the orcs,” Grimald replied, “and I’m not proud of the part Vilnerg played in it.”

The dwarf turned to the orc and asked, “I must warn you not to go to Corrington, though. Do you swear not to?”

The orc nodded.

“You have to say it,” Udoriol ordered.

“I swear I will not go to Corrington,” the orc said, “one orc won’t make a difference for what’s to come.”

Satisfied, Udoriol snapped his fingers and the circle disappeared.

“Here’s the food,” Sarah said, offering it to the orc.

The orc eyed her warily and took it from her quickly before turning to Udoriol. “I owe you my life, so let me repay the favour, somewhat. This one is Agni’s Chosen.”

The elf nodded gravely. “We are aware.”

The orc’s eyebrows shot up. “And you still travel with her? Do you know what she is capable of?”

“We are also aware of the risks,” Udoriol replied flatly.

“Well, good luck to the lot of you,” the orc said, “you’ll need it.”

“Thank you,” Udoriol said, “do you need help tending to your fallen?”

The orc shook his head. “I will handle it myself.”

The elf nodded. Together with John and Grimald, they shifted the fallen log before climbing back into the wagon. Dave set off quickly, glancing over his shoulder constantly until the orc was out of sight.

“Am I glad to have had you along,” he breathed, as he relaxed visibly.

He then looked at Sarah suspiciously. “What did he mean by Agni’s Chosen?”

“Just religious fanatics spouting off about their superstitions,” Grimald said quickly.

Dave grunted, not sounding convinced, “and what’s this about Ratri and Corrington?”

“It sounds serious, whatever it is,” Udoriol said as he looked Grimald in the eye.

“No skin off my back,” Dave remarked from the driver’s seat, “Corrington is a long way from here, so it’s got nothing to do with me. I know better than to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong. I just asked to address the elephant in the room, as it were.”

“That’s a fine life philosophy to have,” Grimald said, “a fine philosophy.”

Feeling exhausted from the tension leading up to the ambush, Sarah rested her head on John’s shoulder and fell asleep to the swaying of the wagon.

“The usurper is coming,” boomed a familiar voice, “you must submit to me!”

Sarah looked around to see the familiar stone floor and altar. This time, she was able to keep a level head.

“I will never submit,” she replied evenly.

“Then you and your friends will perish at Corrington,” the voice replied. Sarah found it unnerving that it lacked its usual volume. It seemed more threatening when it spoke this way.

“You don’t fool me,” Sarah scoffed, “you want my friends dead anyway. I sensed what you were going to do back on that ledge.”

“The solution is simple,” the voice boomed inside her head, “go to Corrington on your own and then submit to me. The Night Goddess seeks divinity. I will show Her Her place.”

“Never,” Sarah replied, “my life is my own. Find a new Chosen and never bother me again!”

Blue flames engulfed her vision, and she welcomed their warm embrace. When she opened her eyes, it was dark, and the stars were shining overhead. The wagon was forging ahead, navigating by the light of a lantern hung out on a pole.

“We should be at Mill Hill soon,” Udoriol said from across her, “understandably, our driver is in a bit of a hurry.”

Sarah managed a smile, not wanting to move for fear of waking John who was snoring softly next to her. She noticed that the elf was looking troubled and gave him a concerned look.

“Oh, I’m just concerned about the orcs,” he said softly, “fate has not been kind to them, and I fear that in desperation, they may have turned to something terrible.”

“Ratri, the Night Goddess,” he continued absently, “so you have come to challenge your brother at long last.”

 

 

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