Chapter 16
They had pushed the horses hard across the frozen ground and through snow covered
forest for the last day and night since the gorthin attack. The strong-spirited mounts had carried
their masters to safety and as the sun rose in the east, Galen and his companions found
themselves welcomed by the sight of Stoneheart nestled in the valley below them.
“Home sweet home,” Galen said with a weary smile. “We should head to the farm to tell
Father what has happened before we head into the village, right Uncle.”
“No, we’ll go directly into town,” Galen started to object but Olan held up a hand to ward
off the young man’s protests. “Your father would have moved himself and your mother into the
town so he could help with the defenses easier and your mother would be safer.”
Galen snapped his mouth shut and nodded in agreement with Olan’s sound conclusions.
Nudging Mercury forward, Galen led them down the road that a little more than a week ago he
and Olan had met on.
Mellay’s rose scented perfume reached Galen’s nose as she rode Dahknee up next to him
and a smile parted his lips. The thought of Mellay’s presence made his heart light and the memory
of her soft, warm hands entwined with his stirred strong feelings in the young man.
“We made it,” Galen said with a smile, but his smile faltered when he saw the anxious
look on Mellay’s sun-darkened face. It dawned on Galen that his beloved was worried about the
reception she and Ox would receive in Stoneheart.
“Everything will be okay, the people of Stoneheart are of good heart and will be able to
see you and Ox for who you are, not what you are.” Galen said with more conviction than he
felt, and then he reached across the horses and gave Mellay’s hand a reassuring squeeze.
With a grateful smile and a return squeeze of her own, Mellay gazed out over the snow
covered valley towards the village of Stoneheart. “Your homeland looks so beautiful and
peaceful compared to the harsh, chaotic cities of the Mol’ tan. The snow blankets the land like
the sand of the desert, but unlike the sand, the snow seems to have a feeling of tranquility
instead of the irritating effect of sand.”
Galen would normally have agreed with Mellay’s observation since he too had always
felt a peaceful, quietness during the snowy winters, but that visage had been shattered during the
gorthin’s attack a few short days ago. Surveying the bustling village below them only reinforced
his lost innocence. In the past the only people out in the streets at daybreak would be the smithy,
Turek and Odom the miller lighting their fires for their forges and stone-ovens. But now there
was activity everywhere Galen looked. A crew was putting on the finishing touches of the
spiked trench his father had suggested while under the protective watch of a score of bowman
walking the walls.
“Your village has worked with the determination of a dwarf to accomplish so much in the
short time we’ve been gone,” Olan said with no small amount of respect in his voice. “No doubt
your father has been barking at then like a old master-at-arms to keep them going for this kind of
results.”
“More likely it was my mother,” quipped Galen then with a hint of sadness edging into
his voice said. “Let’s go home Mercury.” With a click of his tongue Galen urged the tired
mount towards their much changed home. The three companions filed into a line behind the now
brooding young man. Silently the four made their way towards the village’s gate with only the
sound of crunching snow breaking the silence.
They held their horses to a mild trot as much to rest the weary beasts as to let the
defenders on the walls notice them. When they had crossed half the distance to Stoneheart a cry
went up from the sentries posted on the wall.
“It’s the knight! Sir Olan and Galen have returned, go fetch Orin!” Ordered a tall, twig-
thin of a man that Galen placed as being Burek. The shepherd was renowned for his eagle like
eyesight. Orin had told Galen, when as a young boy he had watched Burek shoot an acorn out of
a tree from three hundred paces, that the shepherd’s acute vision came from watching over his
large flock of sheep in the harsh Blackstone Mountains.
Within moments of Burek’s cry the heavy wooden gates of Stoneheart swung wide,
issuing forth a unit of mounted soldiers that raced towards the companions. Stoneheart’s newly
formed cavalry thundered across the valley with their freshly hewn lances held high, their virgin
tips glistening with oozing sap. Their motley collection of arms and patchwork armor made
them no less fearsome then the king’s own Royal Golden Lancers as they bore down on the now
waiting group of travelers.
At their head rode Orin, his dark green ranger cloak billowing wildly behind him as he
rushed to meet Galen and Olan. Unlike those he lead, Orin’s equipment was well tended and he
struck an imposing figure in his glimmering chainmail and hunter green tabard with the golden
cross of the knighthood emblazoned on his chest. Galen’s chest swelled with pride as Orin and
Dapple, his gray and white spotted charger quickly outdistanced the pack. Orin reared in Dapple
next to Mercury and clasped Galen in a powerful bear hug that nearly pulled the surprised young
man from his saddle.
“Ah, it’s good to have you home safe and sound Galen,” Orin said with one last pat on
Galen’s shoulder. “You to Olan. Maybe now Anna will stop scowling at me since you’ve
brought her boy home in one piece. I’ve had nothing but cold dinners and a colder bed since I let
Galen leave with you.”
“Sorry about that Orin. If she’s anything like her sister you’ve had a rough few of days.”
Responded Olan with a grimace. “But I’ll have you know your suffering wasn’t in vain. We
learned some things about the gorthin horde that is headed this way and that Galen seems to have
a natural affinity for the arts martial.”
“What of Roughstock? Will they join with us against the gorthins?” Orin’s innocent
probing had a sobering effect on the companions joy at reaching Stoneheart.
“They decided to deal with the gorthins on their own father. But in truth even if they had
decided to join with us there would not have been time for them to organize and march to our
aid.”
“Galen is right Orin the gorthins were less than a day’s march from the Roughstock’s
walls when we left and as it was we were attacked on our way here by several Skylings, a
scouting party I believe.” But the look Olan gave his brother meant that wasn’t entirely true but a
better explanation needed to wait for less ears to be around.
“They were a brave people and many gorthins will fall before the blades of the valiant
defenders of Roughstock,” Mellay proclaimed from Galen’s side. “Your tale-weavers will tell
the story of the battle of Roughstock for many generations.” Nearby Ox bowed his head and
thumped his chest in respect to the brave villagers.
Orin moved dapple closer to the two Nabukians to get a better look at the heavily cloaked
woman at his son’s side and her very large friend. The ranger had traveled the kingdom
extensively on his treks for the monastery and had more than a couple of unfriendly run ins with
the demon worshiping magic-users, but Olan had a knack for judging people and he would trust
his brother’s decision on these two. By the way Galen and the young woman looking at one
another whenever they thought no one was looking, Orin hoped his brother was right. Burying
his dark thoughts Orin turned his attention back to a pair of inquisitive green eyes that were
judging him in return.
“May you find shade and water on your journey,” Orin greeted Mellay and brought his
fingers to his lips and then fluidly swung his open hand wide, tilting his helmed head slightly in a
token bow.
With a slightly deeper bow of her head, Mellay responded, “May the winds of fortune
blow your enemies from your path.”
A whistle escaped from Orin’s lips. Nabukian aristocrat and her bodyguard! It seems,
Galen and Olan, that the two of you have some interesting stories to tell, but unfortunately they
will have to wait until after Olan and I talk with the council. Come, we’ve dallied out here in the
open for too long already.” With one last look at the young couples clasped hands and his shrugging
brother, Orin lead the procession back to the safety of Stoneheart’s thick, stone walls.
*******************************
“Torvid has put your mother and I up in apartment above his tavern. His mother-in-law
was using it but since she was always at he and Mira’s place he thought that someone might as
well get some use of it.” Orin chuckled, “Galen, why don’t you take Mellay and Ox to meet
your mother and get them something warm to drink and eat. Olan and I can report to the council
about the gorthins and Roughstock, I was on my way to meet with them anyway when you were
spotted.”
“But shouldn’t I be with you and Olan to tell my part?” Asked Galen with the hint of
dismay edging his voice.
“The council member’s all know of, and respect, your mother’s fiery temper and will
understand why I sent you to her first, besides Olan can give them all the information they need
to know.” With that said the older Stoutheart shooed his son towards the direction of the Green
Pine Tavern across the village commons.
A heavenly scent drifted from the direction of the tavern. The enticement of warmed
spiced cider, hickory bacon, and fried eggs were the deciding factor as Ox and Galen’s
stomachs simultaneously performed a growl that would have done a mountain lion proud.
“Time to meet the rest of my family,” Galen said with a nervous smile. He had never
brought a girl home for his mother to meet and now his first one was of a race of people
considered to be an enemy of the kingdom.
“It will be alright,” soothed Mellay sensing her lovers nervousness. “The fruit doesn’t
usually fall far from the tree. Besides your father seemed alright with Ox and I.” She flashed
Galen a dazzling smile that slightly loosened the knot forming in the pit of his stomach.
Ox’s stomach growled so loudly that it spooked a rooster that was perched on a wagon
wheel beside them. With an indignant squawk the frightened bird jump to a nearby post and
puffing his chest, growl-clucked at the mighty warrior till Ox through him a piece of leftover
crusty bread that he had dug from a saddlebag. With one last cluck the rooster snatched his prize
and moved underneath the wagon to eat.
With a forlorn look at the feeding fowl the big Nabukian rapidly flashed his fingers
through the complex movements of the hand language and then urged his horse towards the
tavern.
“What did he say Mellay?” Mellay and Ox had started to teach Galen the intricate hand
talk, but so far all he knew was his name and how to greet people.
“He said that he doesn’t care what your mother does to us as long as she feeds him first.”
With a laugh the two followed their large friend down the snowy street to the hitching
post in front of the tavern where they dismounted and tied up their horses next to Ox’s already
riderless mount. Near the door to the Green Pine, Ox was anxiously urging them to hurry with
exaggerated hand motions. Suddenly the tavern door burst open and Anna Stoutheart rocketed
out of the cozy tavern interior into the frigid winter air to embrace her stunned son.
Pushing Galen to arm’s length, Anna visually scoured her weary son like a hen fussing
over a newly hatched chick. “It’s about time you came home. I’ve about worried myself
sick fretting about your wellbeing. You could use a shave for that stubble and a bath wouldn’t
hurt but other than that you seem alright.” She finished with a tousle of his hair.
“I’m fine Mother. A little tired but fine, besides Olan was there to watch over me plus my
two new friends, Mellay and Ox.” Galen flashed Anna Stoutheart one of the disarming half grins
he relied on to keep him out of trouble with his fiery mother.
Anna turned her gaze to Mellay and her eyes tightened slightly at their corners as she
regarded the beautiful nabukian standing so close and comfortably at her son’s side. Anna’s dark
gaze bore into Mellay’s as if seeking to scour her soul for ill intent. The old hatreds were hard
for her to look past along with the death of two of her cousin’s stationed at the border keeps.
Mellay broke the tense silence first. “Your son is a brave and honorable young man. If it
weren’t for his skill with bow and blade, Ox and I would have surely perished in the foothills of
the mountains. We own him a great debt.” Mellay curtsied before Anna and bowed her head in a
sign of submission. “It is an honor to meet the Mother and Father of such a wonderful young
man.”
Anna’s eyes softened slightly in pride of your son and the deep felt admiration the desert
woman felt for her boy. “Please come in out of the cold. We’ve prepared some warm food and I
would like to hear of how you and Galen met.” Taking Mellay’s hand Anna turned to lead the
young lady into the tavern when she bumped, face first, into a wall she did not remember being there.
Her gaze climbed the giant in front of her until she saw Ox’s grinning face smiling down
at her causing Anna to take an involuntary step back. Despite his gentle nature and broad toothy
grin, Ox still looked fierce with his vast assortment of weapons dangling from his harness and
massive girth and towering height. Anna’s astonishment and silence was broken when Ox’s
belly rumbled making the giant blush and dip his head in embarrassment.
“This is Ox, Lady Stoutheart and despite his fearsome appearance you will never meet a
kinder or gentler soul. If not for Ox’s intervention on my behalf I would have died in the pits of
the mortae un. Like your son, I owe him my life.”
“By the looks of him I don’t expect he misses many meals and I wouldn’t want to be the
first to deprive him,” Anna stated with a kindly pat on the blushing warrior’s forearm. Leading
the three into the tavern the kindhearted Anna realized that there was more to these strangers than
their dark heritage would lead one to believe and she found herself looking forward to hearing
their tale.
Chasing after the womenfolk, Galen and Ox hurried into the tavern, nearly bowling over
one another in their haste- Ox’s desire for food and Galen’s urge to be with the two most important
women in the world to him. Once inside the pair’s senses were assaulted by the warmth and
smokiness of the roaring fire that heated the tavern and created the cozy feeling that weary travelers
always seem to enjoy and the mouthwatering aroma of honey and spiced oatmeal. Removing their
heavy cloaks the two men joined Anna and Mellay at a large sturdy table near the fire.
After returning from the kitchen with a platter loaded with heaping bowls of oatmeal and
mugs of warm spiced cider, Anna sat and listened while Mellay and Galen told her of the events
of the last few days. She flashed Galen a concerned look when Mellay told of the goblin’s arrow
that had pierced his shoulder and gave the girl an appreciating hug when Galen spoke of Mellay’s
healing work on his wounds. With the warm food and drink securely in his belly Galen was
finding it difficult to keep his eyes open and as Mellay’s melodious voice told of the accounts in
Roughstock, he found himself drifting off to sleep. The last thing he heard before sleep stole over
him was his mother asking Ox to carry him up to their rooms and place him in bed.
Chapter 17
A rooster crowed, heralding the arrival of the morning sun as it breached the snow-
capped peaks of the Blackstone Mountains. Warm sunbeams filtered through the frosted window
panes of the Green Pine Tavern gently coaxing Galen from his peaceful slumber.
Unable to resist the rooster’s greeting and the sun’s caressing touch he woke to find
himself sharing a small room with Ox, who was snoring loudly from a bed he made on the floor.
The Nabukian had been unable to fit comfortably in the second bed in their shared room and had
improvised using some thick furs and heavy blankets provided by Torvid and his wife.
Stretching to relieve the knotted muscles from the arduous race from Roughstock, Galen
stifled a groan as a particularly tight knot released that had been plaguing the small of his back.
Not wanting to wake his sleeping friend, he picked up his hard soled boots and padded stealthily
from the room and down the staircase to the tavern’s common room.
Olan and Orin sat near the river-rock fireplace with their feet propped towards the roaring
flames while they smoked their long stemmed pipes. In a booth near the stairs Anna and Mellay
were whispering and giggling like young girls at a festival dance. Both women ceased their
talking and gave Galen a withering look when they realized he was watching them. With a shrug
and his most charming grin, that neither of them returned, Galen moved over to the hearth to join
his father and uncle in one of the several rocking chairs situated around the fireplace.
“Women,” the young man huffed pulling on his boots. “I was greeted like a hero
yesterday when we arrived and now you’d think I had the pox the way those two glared at me. I
just don’t get it.” He jerked the boot roughly over a heel that was being stubborn.
“Well if you ever do, please tell me so I may finally understand your aunt,” Olan
chuckled.
“What surprises me,” began Orin talking around the pipe stem. “Is how well my wife has
taken to the desert girl after the things the Nabukian have done to her family. That must be one
amazing young lady you two brought back. I’m guessing that your mother isn’t the only one
taking a fancy for Mellay, eh Galen.” Orin finished with a sly grin for his blushing son and a
knowing wink for Olan.
“It’s...well...you see...” Stammered Galen trying to control the heat spreading to his
cheeks until he caught the wink between the two brothers. “You could’ve let me tell them
Uncle.” Galen scolded. “I would’ve in time.” But in truth he knew that he had been worried
how his mother and father would react to his feelings towards Mellay.
In his defense Olan raised his hands in surrender. “I just told him about the things that
happened during our trip, nothing about you and Mellay.”
“I figured it out when I saw it in your eyes when myself and the militia rode up. Willing
to defend her from your own people plus I saw the two of you holding hands later. Galen, Olan
told me what happened in Roughstock, but you don’t have to protect her and Ox from the people of
Stoneheart. Olan and I have spoken for the Nabukian and the villagers trust the knighthood and I
trust you.” Orin placed a reassuring hand on his son’s thick shoulder.
“Now I want to hear more of how my son has become a hero. Olan and Mellay both
spoke well of the way you handled yourself in combat and with the villagers of Roughstock.
Maybe you should have went into the knighthood, you appear to have the qualities needed.”
Galen’s blush faded into pride as wide a grin split his face. “Well at first Olan started to
train me in observation and I did pretty good at it, but that evening we heard a scream and
rushed...”
At that moment the door to the tavern burst open and Tav, the miller’s nine year-old son,
burst into the room, panting heavily and trying to catch his breath.
“Orin, Da sent me to fetch you and the knight,” wheezed the boy. “A group of people
where seen coming out of the woods and are heading for the gates and there are wolves howling
in the distance! Please hurry!” Tav knew that wolves were only spotted slinking around at night
and he was frightened, but was doing a good job hiding it but his wide eyes spoke volumes.
“Wolves? This time of the morning?” The ranger exchanged a knowing glance with his
brother.
“Goblins,” Olan nearly spat the word and quickly moved towards the door while buckling
on his sword belt.
“Galen come with us,” Orin ordered while following his brother to the door rack to grab
their cloaks. “Fetch your bow and sword. Be quick!” His father barked.
Trying to remember where his weapons were, Galen scanned the room in panic until he
caught sight of the familiar tip of his longbow poking out from under his hanging cloak.
“Hurry, Galen!” Orin ordered as he and Olan rushed out the door hot on Tav’s racing
heels.
“Mellay, wake Ox and join us at the gate we entered. Do you know the one?” Mellay
gave her lover a reassuring nod and Galen hastily grabbed his cloak and bow before rushing out
the door.
Along the stonewall the sentries watched as a small parade of people staggered across the
open ground between the village and tree line. They were close enough now that Burek could see
that it was a line of children lead by a child with a bow and a man watching their rear.
“By the sacrifice of the Savior, they’re children!” Burek swore as he squinted to get a
better look.
“What was that shepherd?” Olan asked as he climbed the ladder and stood next to Burek.
“I see children and one man and they seem wore out as if something was dogging their
steps.”
“Those are Mayor Bearbreaker’s children at the head and that’s Buroc. He and his
brother are Roughstock’s best hunters. They must have escaped during the gorthins attack and
made for Stoneheart.” Confirmed Orin as he shielded his eyes from the rising sun to get a better
look. “I recognize them from my journeys to see Father Judah, Roughstock’s priest.”
The howling of the wolves had turned to excited yips as the pack found the humans’ scent
and streaked unerringly towards the refugees. A lone wolf broke through with a goblin lancer
astride his back. As one the two announced to the pack they had found their prey, the large
timber wolf howled to his brothers while the goblin brought forth a hollowed ram’s horn and
blew a resounding note. Within minutes twenty wolves and their vicious riders prepared to run
down their fleeing prey.
A plaintive cry escaped from the children as they saw the goblins and broke into a
limping run for the safety of the walls in front of them.
“They’ll never make it,” Burek muttered. “It’s too far.”
“Yes they will,” Orin growled and then spouted orders to the watching soldiers. “Bows
ready! Aim for the wolves!” The sentries scrambled to notch arrows and take aim at the racing
wolves even as they hardened themselves to the horror unfolding before them. All knew there
would be no mercy for the defenseless children.
“Fire!” As one the archers’ bows sang and three wolves dropped, tumbling their riders into
the frozen ground from which they did not rise.
“Tav, fetch our horses! Quickly now lad!” Olan commanded. Like a shot the boy was
racing back to the tavern with another youngster in tow to help.
Calmly Galen drew his powerful bow and took aim at the lead wolf rapidly gaining on
Buroc who was carrying a babe in each arm and had a toddler hanging on his back. Releasing
his breath and bowstring Galen didn’t watch as the arrow drove deep into the great beast’s heart,
killing it instantly, but instead knocked another arrow.
The goblin leader, Wort, rolled with the impact and began to stand; shaking his head to
gather his wits. He looked up in time to see Galen’s second arrow punch through his leather
armor and drive the unfortunate goblin back to the ground.
“What’s going on?” Mellay called from below. “What are you shooting at?”
“Roughstock sent their children but they were set upon by wolfriders before they could
get here. They’re making a run for the gates but it’s going to be close.” Answered Galen without
stopping his barrage of steel rain.
Thunderclouds collided on Ox’s knitted brow and lightening flashed in his eyes with the
promise of death as the battle-forged warrior climbed the ladder and bounded clear the wall with
speed belying his huge stature and mass. Dropping to the ground and rolling to absorb the impact,
the unfazed Nabukian sprang to his feet and was up and charging towards the children, a razor
edged throwing axe in each hand.
The defenders on the wall watched in amazement at Ox’s spectacular feat, forgetting to
keep up their hail of arrows.
“Haven’t you ever seen a seven foot man jump off a ten foot wall before?” Barked Orin.
“Now get back to firing those bows!”
Mellay watched with grim satisfaction while her friend raced towards what would be suicide
for most men. Briefly she felt pity for the doomed goblins as death charged mercilessly towards them in the guise of enraged Nabukian gladiator.
Led by Galen’s deadly aim, they renewed battery of arrows forced all but three of the
wolfriders to skulk at the edge of Stoneheart’s archer’s range. They had been ahead of the pack
and now even Galen and Burek with their keen eyes were afraid to fire in fear of hitting Ox or
the refugees. The defenders held their breath and prayed for the Savior to aid the selfless Ox as
he closed with the lead goblin.
So intent was the lancer in spearing the fleeing man in front of him with the three
children that he had no idea why he was suddenly lying on his back with a crushing weight on
his chest. A deliberate probe with his clawed fingers revealed the ironwood grip of a unusually
large throwing axe sticking out his sternum. With eyes growing heavy with the approach of death
the wolfrider watched as a terrifying monster with moon-bladed axes for hands feinted to his right
and when the wolf lunged forward to eviscerate the man, slid impossibly fast back to his left and
buried the moon-blade deep in the lupine mount’s thick neck.
The refugees had stopped and were now staring in awe at Ox while he ripped the weapon
free and faced the two wolfriders that now were now cautiously circling their prey. Wary of the
powerful Nabukian’s skill and the reputation of his dark-skinned kin the wolves feinted and
nipped at the group slowly working them into a tighter circle. The goblins and their mounts
shouted and snarled outside of the villager’s bowshot urging on their brethren while the wolves
snapped and the lancers prodded at the terrified children. Unable to contain their fear anymore
two little girls made a break for the wall. Tears made streaks of pink skin in their scruffy faces as
they ran hand in hand towards the village. Their voices raised in incoherent screams of fear.
“Maria! Selva! NO!!” Buroc screamed as he tried to lower his charges to the ground so
he could race after the two panic stricken girls.
Ox threw his remaining axe at the wolfrider in front of him causing the beast and rider to
scamper away to safety when he heard Buroc’s scream of frustration.
Two steps and a bound, launched by tree thick legs, propelled Ox across the distance
where he tried to tackle the wolf. Missing the intended target of the wolf’s body he instead
found the beast’s fluffy tail captured in his grip. With a grin the heavily muscled warrior
jerked up and back with all his considerable strength.
The wolf yelped as he found himself suddenly flying through the air backwards and
landed hard on his goblin master, breaking the vile creature’s spine. The wolf struggled to its feet
just in time to see Ox slam his gauntleted fist into its skull, the poor creature’s world exploded with
light just before it went black for the final time.
Ox shooed the frozen group towards the open gate before retrieving his weapons. Whether
from the sight of safety so close or Ox’s fierce blood-spattered visage, the children surged forward
at the pace of a flooded river. The Nabukian followed slowly bringing up the rear to keep a watchful
eye on the remaining goblins.
At the gate, Tav and his young friend breathlessly ushered Olan and Galen’s horses to the
waiting men. “Here are your horses, Sir,” Tav said while keeping a nervous eye on Blade as he pawed
at the ground in impatience. The smell of blood and the sounds of battle had the warhorse itching
for combat while Mercury waited with indifference and calm.
“Come on Galen, we’ll give those children an escort in. Although I’m afraid Ox has had
all the fun.” The veteran knight said with a grin. Everyone had felt relief when the remaining
wolfriders had held back seemingly content with their prey slipping away.
“They forgot to get Dahknee, Mellay. I guess you’ll have to wait here with the women to
greet your mighty champion when I return with Radek and Helsa.” The young man teased the
proud fighter after getting into the saddle.
“Hardly,” Mellay quipped back dryly. “Move up or slide back because I’m riding with
you.”
“My horse, my reins. You get on the rump.” Galen extended a hand to aid Mellay up,
but she smacked it away and with the grace of plains deer and sprang into place behind the
grinning Galen.
“You’d better get out there quick, Olan, or your friend is going to be in a lot of trouble! A
Gorthin hunting pack just flew over!” Orin cried out in warning. “Keep those bows going!
Those wolfriders have found their courage with the sight of their winged allies!”
The villagers’ bows twanged and halted the newly formed charge of the goblins, stalling
it before it could gain any momentum. The frustrated goblins waved their crude pine lances at
the wall’s defenders and spouted curses in their vulgar tongue.
The horses sped from the gate while the gorthins swept low over Ox and his charges
causing the children to drop and cower with fear on the ground. Maria and Selva huddled around
Ox’s massive legs seeking comfort in the giant’s presence.
Buroc, Jax, and Ox created a triangle with the children between them. With axe blade,
steel arrowheads, and long bladed hunting knife the three challenged the circling monsters to
attack them, each grim face etched with determination. And come they did from all directions.
Unable to fire their bows for fear of missing, the villagers watched in dismay as the five
Skylings descended, their eyes filled with bloodlust and fangs bared wide. Two swooped at Ox
while a third and fourth attacked Jax and Buroc. The last Skyling held his dive until the
children’s protectors were all distracted then slipped between the points of the defensive triangle
and grabbed a struggling Radek by the scruff of his shirt and flew off.
“Ox! Help me!” Radek screamed before the Skyling could clamp a taloned hand over the
boy’s mouth to silence him.
“Shut your mouth or I’ll drink your blood myself and to the abyss with Blackfur’s wishes,”
growled Talon, fearful of drawing the deadly giant’s wrath.
“Drop him gorthin and I might let you live!” A female voice shouted from behind.
Talon glanced back over his shoulder to see the Nabukian’s companions racing to join him
and the young man and his woman were hot on his heels.
With a surge of strength born of desperation and fear Talon flapped his leathery wings
and shot into the air, but not before he felt something close around his ankle and a great weight
that nearly pulled him down. A burst of pain shot through his calf as something tore into it,
causing him to drop the boy into the waiting lap of Galen.
“I told you to drop the boy, monster. You should have listened.” Talon howled with
frustration and pain as Mellay ripped her dagger free and prepared for another strike.
“Get off of me witch!” Talon screeched and then kicked out at the fighter
dangling from his leg. Mellay’s head rocked back as Talon’s kick connected with her face, shattering
her nose, and causing her to lose her grip. Her limp body hit the ground with a sickly thump.
“Nooooo!” Galen screamed in denial, slipping off of Mercury and handing Radek the
reins. He reached for his sword, but his hand closed on nothing but air. A memory of his
swordbelt hanging from the bed flashed into his mind.
“Jester’s luck!” He cursed. The gorthin had landed and was drawing a slim bladed knife
as he stalked towards Mellay’s prone body. Just then Olan rode by rushing to aid the struggling
Jax and Galen saw a sword hilt sticking out from his uncle’s bedroll.
“Sorry Uncle, but I need this,” he apologized as he swiped the sword as Blade charged
past.
“Wish I had time to taste you, girl,” snarled Talon as he stooped to plunge his blade into
Mellay’s heart, “But I wouldn’t want to face your friends again so I’ll just settle for killing you
quickly.” His voice broke into a gurgle as a foot of glowing steel blossomed from his chest.
Shoving the Skyling’s corpse from the blade with his boot, Galen knelt by Mellay’s side.
The sight of all her blood across her face had Galen’s stomach tight with worry while he gently
shook her, desperately calling her name.
“Mellay? Mellay are you alright? Can you hear me?” Galen said with concern while his
eyes rapidly searched her face for any sign that he was getting through. His efforts were
rewarded with the fluttering of long eyelashes that spread open like the wings of a butterfly to
reveal the green eyes that had stolen his heart.
“Galen...” Mellay blinked her eyes trying to get them to focus. “You are holding...” But
before she could finish Buroc slipped on an ice patch and stumbled to one knee. With a howl of
triumph the Skyling sprung forward, long knife held high to deliver the final blow.
Galen saw it all out of the corner of his eye and in a blur of motion leapt to the fallen
man’s aid. The Skyling’s blade arced down towards the exposed head of the bowed Buroc.
Galen swung the borrowed sword up to intercept the falling blade, but the strange lightness of
the unfamiliar weapon caused him to miss his mark and instead of knocking the knife harmlessly
away Galen’s blade severed the Skyling’s hand off at the wrist. Using the momentum of the
rising blade, the young warrior spun on the balls of his feet and brought the sword into a
horizontal slash that gutted the wide-eyed gorthin before its severed hand, still grasping the
bone-handled knife, could hit the ground.
Barely out of breath, Galen took stock of the battlefield seeking for more of the vile
creatures to slay. To his left, Olan and Blade had bowled over the gorthin that had been
harassing Jax and the powerful warhorse’s steel shod hooves made short work of the unfortunate
Skyling and now the stalwart knight was herding the children towards the gate once again. There
was a grunt of pain to his left and Galen spun preparing to charge in and help his mammoth
friend, but to his surprise he saw Ox picking himself up off the ground while the last Skyling was
tearing through the air back towards the coming gorthin army.
Galen turned his attention back to his fallen friend but Mellay was already at Ox’s side
checking the warrior over for wounds and helping the giant to his feet after she deemed his was
fit to stand.
“Is Ox alright? I heard him gasp but by the time I went to aid him he was on the ground
and the Skyling was flying away as fast as his wings could carry him.”
“The last one caught him with a surprise kick after Ox’s axe became lodged in his friend’s
skull. Fortunately it seemed more concerned with fleeing than continuing the fight. I think the
gorthin saw something that frightened him very badly.” Mellay finished with a knowing look that
was totally lost on Galen.
“Ox is a very imposing figure, but I wouldn’t think one of those savage creatures would let
a chance of killing a downed opponent slip by.”
“Nice piece of steel you have there Galen,” Olan stated as he lead the children past the
small group towards the open gate. “I imagine that’s why the Skyling was so intent on escaping.
So he could report to the Blood King.” Olan pointed a mailed finger at the borrowed weapon in
Galen’s hand.
“I’m sorry, Olan. It was just that Mellay was in trouble and I had forgotten my sword
back at the tavern and you happened to charge by on Blade at that moment with the hilt of a
sword protruding from under your saddle blanket. I knew you wouldn’t mind if...” All the color
melted from Galen’s face as the memory of his hand wrapping around the hilt of partially hidden
sword. A hilt in the shape of an outstretched angel. “I’m sorry Olan! I didn’t mean to. I just
needed something to save Mellay with and...”
“It’s okay Galen. The sword chose you, you didn’t choose the sword.” Olan patted his
nephew assuredly on the shoulder. “Now raise that glowing pig-sticker high so the people on the
wall have something to cheer about and the village can have a reason to rejoice in the fact that
their champion has been found.”
Feeling foolish but trusting his uncles advice, Galen raised the holy weapon high into the
air and as the blue angelic flames danced the length of the blade a mighty roar resonated from the
walls and then as the news spread like wildfire the rest of the village added their own voices.
Fear of inadequacy and self-doubt started to form in Galen’s stomach, but Mellay gripped
his hand solidly with her own and whispered, “You will not walk this path alone.”
Ox moved his hulking form beside his friend and gave Galen a reassuring squeeze on the
young man’s shoulder and nodded his agreement.
Glad to have friends like these two, Galen whispered a quick prayer of thanks and
humility to the Savior before he and his companions headed back through the gates of Stoneheart.
**************************************************
Gnarl beat his wings rapidly through the chilled air as he raced to meet the gorthin army
and tell Goldeneyes what he saw. So intent was he that the Skyling didn’t see or feel the loss of
heat as a large shadow draped over his streaking form. Pain exploded between his shoulder
blades and fire seemed to race through his body causing him to spasm uncontrollably. The last
thing the unfortunate Gnarl saw before his twisted body crashed into the ground, dashing the life
from its broken form was the leering smile of Raz, second in command of the accursed assassins.
The Morgog landed gently next to Gnarl’s lifeless body, so silently and smoothly did the
assassin come to a stop that he didn’t disturb the fur on Gnarl’s body. The Morgog slid his
poisoned blade into the Skylings heart, making sure that his prey was indeed dead. After placing
his hands around Gnarls throat and failing to find the tell-tale thump of pumping blood, the
highly skilled killer launched himself into the air and headed to a small clearing out of sight of
Stoneheart’s well-defended walls.
“The Skyling has been taken care of?” Cutter questioned his second as Raz landed next
to him.
“Gnarl will be feeding the scavengers tonight, though I wouldn’t want the bellyache he’ll
give em,” laughed Raz.
“Good,” Cutter turned his yellow, bloodshot gaze back towards the distant walls of
Stoneheart, “I think we have just found our way to repay Blackfur for his ambition.” The
Morgog chief sneered as he spoke the Blood King’s name.
“I want you personally to keep an eye on this human, Raz,” ordered the scheming chief.
“I want to know when he leaves those walls so I may have a word with this young man.”
With a bow, Raz spread his leathery wings and flew off towards the settlement to find a
place where he could watch the village without being spotted.
Chapter 18
“I’m fine,” Mellay groused trying futilely to avoid Anna’s probing fingers. “I’ve suffered
worse than this in the pits. Tell her Ox.” She added with a plaintive whine directed towards her
old friend.
Fire blazed in those green orbs when the taciturn warrior shrugged his mountainous
shoulders from the foot of the bed they had made her lie in after the battle till Galen’s mother,
Anna, could tend to her busted nose. She had stubbornly told them that she was fine and that
they should see to the refuges, but Galen and Ox had argued that there were others to help with
the children and Burek. Mellay disliked others taking care of her, it made her feel weak. A
feeling the independent warrior didn’t like.
“Hold still Mellay,” Anna lowered her strong skilled fingers from the Nabukian’s bruised
face to inspect her work. “That should do it and I don’t believe anyone will be will be able to tell
that it was broken.” Anna finished by handing Mellay a small pocket mirror so the young lady
could see for herself.
“I know how we women feel about our looks, especially when we’ve set our heart on
someone.” Anna’s eyes flickered, if briefly, to her son, sitting quietly at Mellay’s side. Concern
etched clearly on his face as he watched his mother administer to his beloved’s injuries. “Now
drink this tea, it will help with the pain and swelling.”
Mellay hurriedly snatched the steaming mug, nearly spilling the hot liquid in her haste to
hide her blushing face. Inhaling the warm vapors deeply, Mellay sipped the herbal concoction
and nearly emptied her stomach due to its vile taste and odor.
“What’s in this horrid stuff,” Mellay asked while wiping newly formed tears from the
corner of her eyes. “I it’s hard to believe that anything so foul can be of any aid to healing
someone.”
“The plant is called Morning Breath as I’m sure you can guess why,” answered Anna
with a sympathetic smile. “I know it tastes and smells terrible but there is no greater herb for
swelling. Now drink it all down Mellay.” Anna stood watch until the young women, with much
grimacing, finished off the mug of tea.
With one last cursory look at Mellay’s nose the matronly Stoutheart decided she had done
a satisfactory job and turned her attention to the juggernaut at the foot of the bed. “Now let’s
have a look at these wounds Ox.” As She escorted Ox from the room to the tavern common.
The two lovers sat in silence while they listened to Ox’s heavy footsteps diminish down
the hallway and the incessant fussing as Anna inspected the many cuts and bruises the battered
warrior sported.
“So the sword finally chose its wielder,” Mellay pointed at the beautiful weapon belted at
Galen’s hip. “I believe your god has chosen well.” A small smile parted her beautiful face as she
watched Galen squirm in discomfort at her words.
“I don’t know,” Galen’s hand caressed Heaven’s Justice’s hilt, but his eyes locked onto
Mellay’s. “I just needed a weapon to save you and I could see the hilt of a sword sticking out
from Olan’s saddle bags. I didn’t know that it was the Holy Sword, not that it would make any
difference. I would have grabbed a greystone serpent to save you.”
It was Mellay’s turn to shift uneasily but she also felt a warmth spread across her face and
chest that wasn’t caused by embarrassment alone. Minutes passed as the two stared into one
another’s eyes and drank in the sight of the other while they each searched for the best way to
express themselves.
Galen spoke first and took Mellay’s hands into his own, marveling how warm and soft
her hands were with the exceptions of the callouses that months of fighting had caused.
“Mellay, when I saw you fall after taking that hit from the Skyling ...I...I thought that you
might be seriously wounded, possible even dead. I felt as if something was squeezing my heart
and I couldn’t breathe. If you were to die than a part of me would go with you. I realized that I
want to spend the rest of my life with you as husband and wife. I know that this seems fast but I
can’t help the way I feel.” A eager light filled the young man’s eyes seeking reassurance from
Mellay that she too felt as he did.
“In the Mol’ Tan we have what my people call Heart’s Love, and in a land full treachery
and deceit most believe it to be a myth. I did until I meet you, Galen Stoutheart.” Bright
emerald eyes swallowed the besotted young man while perfect rosebud lips begged to be kissed
as Mellay continued her tale of the nabukian myth.
“The myth goes that when a boy child and a girl child are born at the exact same moment
instead of each child getting their own soul they instead share one. If and when these two people
meet the soul recognizes its lost half and they instantly fall deeply and truly in love...a heart’s
love. You, Galen, are my other half...my Heart’s Love.”
Gently Galen cupped Mellay’s face with his hands and softly caressed her olive skin with
his thumbs as his eyes traced every inch of her flawless face trying to etch every inch of it in his
memory for all time.
“I love you with every fiber of my being, my desert flower. We have no fable like yours
in our land, but it is a wonderful idea and I believe in you and as such believe in your Heart’s
Love.” He whispered to her before softly kissing her velvet lips.
Moments passed as the two lovers embraced and each shed tears as they shared tender,
passionate kisses. Later they would each swear that they felt an overwhelming feeling of joy and
rapture as if their souls had become one again, but for now they had their duty and personal
feelings needed to be set aside for the greater good.
Gently Mellay pulled away from their embrace and placed her hands softly on Galen’s
broad shoulders.
“My love, I will marry you, but first we must see to the needs of your people. You have
been chosen as their champion and as such must put their needs ahead of our own.” There was a
hint of sadness in Mellay’s voice but the joy and happiness that shone from her angelic face
eased the hard truth she spoke to the young man.
“What kind of man would I be if I abandoned my duty for my own desires, surely not one
that Mellay Zanathrith would want as a husband.” Galen stated with a smile.
“But we will marry at the earliest possibility when this is over. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” Mellay vowed and they sealed their promise with one last kiss before someone
cleared their throat at the doorway.
Regretfully they parted to see who had intruded on their intimate moment. In the
doorway, Tav stood staring at his shifting feet trying hide his blushing face from the young
couple. “The council would...um...like to speak with you two. If you are ready..err...that is if
Mistress Mellay is feeling up to it.”
“It’s alright Tav, Galen and I were just discussing the very same thing,” Mellay soothed
trying to make the poor lad a little more at ease. “Weren’t we Galen?”
A rough elbow to his ribs jolted the amused look from Galen’s face. “Yes,” he wheezed.
“Yes we were. Duty, honor, and the such.”
“Now if you would be a good lad and bring me my swordbelt, Tav, and we gladly will
follow you to the council.” She pointed to where her ornately tooled, burgundy belt hung with
its contrastingly plainly adorned and deadly twin shortswords from a peg near the door jam.
Glad for the chance to remove himself from the awkwardness of the situation, Tav
scurried to the peg and reverently cradled the weapons as he carried them back to Mellay. Shyly
he held the belt and scabbards to the beautiful Nabukian. “I’ll go ahead and tell the council that
you are on your way. If that’s all right?”
“That would be just fine Tav, we‘ll be right behind you,” Mellay flashed the young boy
one of those dazzling smiles that Galen so loved about her and Tav’s cheeks flared crimson with
pleasure, with an rough bow he backed out of the room and sped off to the village hall.
“I believe you made his day.” Galen said with a smile for his beloved. “I know that
smile of yours lifts my spirits no matter how low.”
“Thank you, I just thought it would be a good idea to brighten his day with everything
that has happened.” Tightening her belt and adjusting her scabbards so they rode comfortably on
her slightly curved hips, Mellay took Galen’s hand and together they left the room and inn.
As they passed through the inn’s stout door and into the street a figure detached himself
from the horse post that he had been leaning and joined Mellay and Galen. Jax silently walked
next to Galen and the young Stoutheart could tell something was eating at the boy but he wisely
chose to let Jax speak when he was ready.
After a few quiet moments Jax quietly spoke, “Nobody made it out of Roughstock.
That’s why the gorthins are here. Right Galen?” He looked up at new Champion of Everwatch
with haunted eyes but a firm jaw.
Galen’s heart ached to tell Jax that everything was fine and that his family will stroll
through the gates any moment now, but they both knew that was a lie. The gorthins never left
any survivors.
“Yes, Jax, I fear you are right, and I’m truly sorry for your and the other children's loss.”
He laid a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulders.
The haunted look melted from his eyes with the smolder of determination and his words
were spoken with confidence. “Then we won’t let that happen here; will we Galen.”
“No. No we won’t.” He gripped the hilt of Heaven’s Justice and a serene strength
flowed into him that gave Galen’s mind the conviction to match his words. “With the Savior’s
blessing we won’t.” He added to himself.
Mellay gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and the three walked the rest of the way in
stony silence, each lost in their own thoughts.
Happy Reading
-EW-
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