Authors: B.N. Crandell
Invasion (14 page)
Thirak remained patient.
Minutes remained until the agreed upon time. He hammered away at the glowing hot steel, forming yet another sword. It had been many years since he had worked the forges but some things you don’t forget. He was a dwarf after all and working metal was a part of their blood.
In between strokes he thought he heard a bell off in the distance but with all the noise around him he couldn’t be sure and to stop for an instant would no doubt result in another whipping.
The time for his revenge on that slimy orc would come soon.
He quenched the sword for the last time and took it to a trolley which was full of partly made swords. He called Jerzy over to help him push the trolley and they both pushed it along the tracks to the grinding area where a bunch of other dwarves were busy grinding and polishing the swords.
“It’s time lads.” The calm way in which he said it sparked no alarm among the orc guards, but the sudden rush to the trolley full of finished swords did. Thirak grabbed a long sword first which seemed more like a great sword in his hands and so he wielded it as such, taking it in both hands.
The Weaponsmith was heavily guarded and by orcs with fine fighting skills as Thirak soon found out. They were upon him in an instant with a furious charge. Blocking the first wild strike sent vibrations running up his short, thick arms. But with the strength of a dwarf, he held firm and his counter-strike had the orc backpedalling.
Dwarves and humans rushed to his side and together they pushed the guards back. Thirak killed the first orc by slicing his thigh and imbedded his sword in the orc’s skull when he bent over in pain.
Retracting the sword became a bit of an issue as the collapsing orc almost ripped it from his hand and if it wasn’t for Jerzy’s quick thinking, he would have been skewered by the next orc in line.
Jerzy’s unexpected block took the guard by surprise and Thirak got another easy kill as he jabbed his freed sword deep in the belly of the orc.
“I owe ya one,” he said to Jerzy as he engaged another orc.
“I’ll be holdin’ ya to that,” replied Jerzy.
The guards soon realised they didn’t stand a chance against the skilled dwarves or the mass of human slaves and so they turned and ran.
“After‘em lads!” Thirak led the charge with a primal roar. “Don’t let ‘em shut us in.”
Dwarves might have short stumpy legs but in the heat of battle they were very quick, which the orcs found out as they were cut down one after the other. Thirak sighted one particular guard that had taken great pleasure in whipping him many times and so he took chase.
The orc turned to meet his attack at the last minute. He parried Thirak’s strike with an effort and kicked out with his leg. Thirak turned side on to dodge the kick and shoulder rushed the large orc.
The impact took the wind out of him but because the orc was off balance, Thirak knocked him to the floor. The orc guard’s eyes went wide as Thirak gripped his sword in both hands and jabbed it into his chest.
“Pay back.” Thirak watched all life leave the orc’s eyes. He turned around and scanned the workshop. They had managed to prevent all the guards from making it to the one exit. “Jerzy, keep th’ door open while we clear this place.” Thirak left him with two dwarves while he led the others around the large complex, killing every orc guard they came across.
“Grab as many weapons as ya can carry,” he ordered the slaves as they made their way back to the door.
Jerzy and the other dwarves were fighting guards when they returned and were outnumbered.
“Is it too early ta be callin’ for that favour?” asked Jerzy as he struggled to keep two swords from winning through.
Thirak pulled out a knife he had found on a dead guard and tossed it at the orc on Jerzy’s right. The dagger sunk into the orc’s neck and he dropped holding his throat.
“We be even now.” Thirak rushed in and engaged the next orc before Jerzy found himself fighting two once again.
The orcs lost their resolve and turned to run. The slaves cut them all down in short order. Thirak led the slaves to the ground floor.
“Jerzy, you take half th’ group and be freein’ the rest o’ the slaves in here, then be meetin’ us at the Slaughterhouse,” commanded Thirak.
“What about th’ rest o’ th’ compound?” asked Jerzy.
“We’ll be sortin’ that out once we’ve gathered at th’ Slaughterhouse.” After a nod of understanding from Jerzy, Thirak split the group and led his half to the exit.
They encountered minimal resistance on the way and once again those orcs were more inclined to run than fight. When they reached the exit it had been locked tight, but Thirak organised a battering ram from a nearby steel beam and smashed the door open.
A large group of orc guards met them on the street outside. Thirak arranged his group with his dwarves and human soldiers in the front line and marched to meet the orcs.
The orcs were well organised and good fighters but it became obvious they had never fought dwarves before. Thirak almost laughed out loud at the shock on the orc’s face as he blocked his full force swing with ease. He took advantage of that and kicked the orc back into the pack behind him causing mayhem among their ranks.
A jab to his left had a distracted orc roiling in pain allowing the dwarf fighting him to finish the job. The orcs recovered and Thirak soon found himself engaged with a talented sword fighter. Every move he made, the orc had an answer. The dwarves either side of him had the same problem.
Aware that any delay favoured the orcs, Thirak racked his brain for a way to break this line. Fatigue slowed him down and his comrades would be tiring too. While the slaves outnumbered the guards at about four to one, most of the slaves had never been in a sword fight and received basic training so they could produce better swords.
His lapse in concentration almost cost him his head as his opponent’s backswing came in quicker than he expected. A last minute duck of his head and a jab with his sword made the move appear intentional as his sword dug deep into the orc’s belly. The orc’s shock at his exceptional speed became apparent in his eyes moments before all life fled from them.
Relief flooded through him as a ruckus from behind alerted him that Jerzy had arrived with what sounded like substantial reinforcements. Thirak’s next opponent hesitated and he took advantage of it with a primal roar and a charge.
His energy proved infectious as his fellow dwarves followed suit and soon after the human soldiers and slaves. They had managed to push their enemy back before Jerzy had even made his way to the front. The rout was on in full soon after.
Sarai knew the time had come to act or risk being left behind. Gerard had told her to sit tight and they would come for her, but she did not want to miss possibly her one chance of freedom. She had been born and raised in this compound and knew no other life, but unlike others, she had never accepted that to be her fate.
She had dreams of running around open fields with no orc guards in sight, walking among a dense forest and spotting the various wildlife or climbing the highest mountain and admiring the majestic view.
Things she had seen and read about in books.
It had been about two hours since the bell had sounded for the changing of the guards. Gerard’s plan would be in full swing and the lack of guards and the sounds of fighting down the street indicated that.
“C’mon girls, it’s time we left this place.” Expressions of horror assaulted her from every direction.
“We cannot leave,” said a timid voice from across the room. “It is forbidden and we will be severely punished.”
Sarai wanted to scream at the stupid girl. They were just as likely to be punished if they stayed where they were. At least if they left now they had a chance of escape. She settled herself and then replied.
“Men are fighting and dying right now in order to secure our freedom. The least we can do is go and help them.”
“You want us to fight against armed guards?” asked another woman, Helen by name and a very stubborn and nasty woman. She would often do things for the guards to gain their favour; even freely offer her body or dob in another slave. Sarai doubted that she could convince her to leave.
“We could at least be a distraction to them. Throw stones at them or something.” Sarai would pick up the first weapon she found and take out her frustrations on any orc guard that came her way.
“But if the men fail, they’ll come right after us and kill every last one of us. If we stay here they’ll reward our loyalty,” replied Helen.
“Ha, since when do they reward loyalty? Punishment is all they know, and besides, the men won’t lose. They outnumber the guards many times over and the new slaves are warriors and leaders. They’ve escaped worse situations before.” Sarai examined the many faces as she spoke. She had convinced some of them at least, but many still fidgeted.
“Says who? Them? Men can spin tales as easily as we spin wool.” Helen stood with hands on hips.
“We have a chance of escape here. To live our lives the way we choose and not the way we’re told. To die of old age and not to the sacrificial knife. Isn’t that worth any risk?” An orc guard came into the room as she finished speaking and marched toward her with a lopsided grin.
Sarai’s heart almost leapt from her chest.
Despite her fear she maintained eye contact with the guard while she sneakily picked up her scissors.
The orc stalked confidently toward her as he pulled the metal tipped whip from his belt.
“Inciting revolt and planning escape, ay? That’s punishable by death.”
“The revolt has already begun, or haven’t you noticed?” She kept her voice steady.
“And it’ll soon be over with many new sacrifices to Nefari. Our goddess will be pleased.” The orc stopped one pace in front of her and readied his whip. She shied away from him and closed her eyes.
The orc laughed.
In one fluid motion she gripped the scissors tightly in her right hand and dived toward the orc with the pointy end leading. She sunk the scissors deep into the orc’s neck before he even had a chance to react. His laughter turned into a strange gurgling noise as blood spurted out of his mouth. He stared at her in disbelief as he collapsed.
“Now you’ve done it,” screamed Helen. “You’ve no doubt condemned us all now.”
“Then you have nothing further to lose. Let’s join together and take the fight to our oppressors.” Doubt faded from many eyes and some of them walked over closer to her. The chance of freedom had its effect on these women.
“I’m in,” said one woman confidently. “My days here were numbered anyway.”
A chorus of affirmation followed from many other women as they shuffled over closer to Sarai. Eventually Helen sighed and walked over to her.
“It seems I am outnumbered and without a choice. What is your plan then?”
“Firstly, we must arm ourselves with anything we can use as a weapon. As I just showed you, even one-on-one we can defeat them. They will underestimate us — at least to begin with — but we should try to team up in groups of three or four so we can assist each other. We made their armour so we know where the weak points are. Target the joins or exposed areas. Stick together. We’ll try to avoid confrontation, but where we must, we will. We need to free all the other women in this building as soon as we can and join up with the men and see if we can assist them. Let’s get to it.” Sarai bent over, picked up the orc guard’s whip and tossed it to Helen. The older woman examined it and screwed up her face, but eventually turned back to Sarai and nodded.
Sarai retrieved the orc’s short sword — which seemed more like a two-handed great sword in her grasp — and a dagger he had strapped to his boot. She kept the sword for herself but gave the dagger to the closest woman. She stood and lifted the sword up in front of her eyes and tried to get used to its weight.
“Stand back,” she commanded the women around her. She swung the sword in a basic routine that Brendan had shown her. She was clumsy at first, but as she got used to the weight of the blade she improved. She was under no illusion that if she wound up in a one-on-one sword fight with any of these guards she’d be dead within seconds, but she did feel more confident with a weapon in her hands.