Stillborn 2 - The Fire Within: Chapter 6

 

6.

Once they had traveled for five more days, they passed through some caves that grew thick moss, and Aniceth saw a new kind of an animal he had never seen before. Angwar called them cave goats, and continued by explaining how these creatures lived outside of Everdeep as well, apparently serving as a source of milk and meat in the mountains. The cave goats served the same purpose as their cousins on the surface, living in the higher levels of Everdeep, eating the moss and lichen that grew almost everywhere in the caves. The Darfins and Gibberlings tended their herds in the large moss flats near the cities, and as in this case, finding cave goats meant there had to be a large settlement nearby.

”Gibberlings?” Aniceth asked, guessing they were still too far from the Darfin settlements.

Angwar nodded with a somber look on his face. ”Cursed be the souls of those foul creatures. Unless I have taken us into completely wrong direction, it is the City of Grudgan that is near,” he said.

The name was familiar to Aniceth. The Gibberlings traded sometimes with the Arathans, and he had heard the same name mentioned in the talk of the slaves as well.

Those vile creatures were even smaller than their distant cousins, the Darfins, but their malicious nature was something the other nations of Falchrest could never match. Once the Gibberlings had separated from the Darfins, their race had deranged in the darkness of Everdeep. Their souls were twisted and their hearts knew no honesty or kindness. The Gibberlings had been a rather harmless nation until a couple of centuries ago, an exceptional individual called Brodalf Darkhand claimed the crown of Grudgan and managed to unite all the scattered tribes under the same banner. This eccentric Gibberling led his nation to a successful campaign against the Darfins, conquering and gaining a lot of new territory for his kingdom. Brodalf's reign was short, for he sat on the throne for only seven years before the Darfin spies assassinated him. Brodalf's kingdom withered fast and crumbled into pieces, but still today, most of the Gibberlings follow his ideals and swear in the name of his glory. He has become some kind of a spiritual source of strength for them, and the main reason why all Gibberling communities remain as violent warmongers in their desperate attempt to repeat the heroic deeds of their fallen leader.

”I assume these goats have their guardians since they are a valuable resource?” Aniceth surmised as they walked through the herds.

”Most certainly they do,” Angwar verified. ”They are called shepherds, but I don't expect anything what we can't handle. The Gibberlings have border patrols as well, similar to the Arathans and Darfins, but those are far less competent than what you have been accustomed to.

Angwar seemed thoughtful for a moment before he smiled cunningly. ”There could actually be a way for us to pass without killing a single one of them.”

Aniceth was puzzled by his words, but Angwar continued without offering him a chance for questions.

”They don't know that we are alone,” he explained. ”Let me do the talking in case we run into a patrol, I believe there could be a way to trick them into helping us a little.”

”I wonder if this trick involves Arathans and Darfins working together,” Aniceth wondered with a playful smile on his lips, starting to see where his companion was headed.

”We may still have to kill them off though,” the Arathan reminded, but Angwar chuckled cheerfully.

”Well, if that turns out to be the case, I'm pretty sure the world can live without a few gibbers staining it with their filthy presence.”

Aniceth could not keep himself from laughing. The atmosphere had lightened considerably ever since they left the terragon cave behind. Reaching Grudgan meant they were only about one week journey from Othrond, and the mere awareness of it drove Angwar to press on harder than ever before. He was so close to seeing his dear childhood home after centuries spent in enslavement that his voice shivered from the plain excitement.

 

* * *

 

The Gibberling patrols usually moved in groups of eight, and sometimes even up to ten soldiers. Compared to the Arathans and Darfins, their group size was exceptionally large. The basic reason for this was that by doubling the group size of what the Arathans commonly used, the ones they admired the most because of their extremely efficient fighting techniques, should result as a better unit according to their simple logic. Another reason was that most Gibberlings were base cowards, and hiding behind a large group felt a lot more comfortable than facing the enemy at the front. Each patrol had its own leader which was another silly feature used only by them. They tried hard to rise above their neighbors in power, but it was only their great number that kept them from being crushed. The Gibberlings multiplied at an astonishing rate, but the ugly truth was that any patrol facing a well organized Darfin unit or a fully trained Arathan border patrol would be annihilated within seconds.

Aniceth and Angwar had to progress very carefully despite the great difference in skill and discipline. If they got drawn into a situation where fighting was the only option, they would have to be extremely sharp for even one escaped enemy could cause an alarm that would bring an entire garrison upon them. That would mean anything from fifty to a hundred frenzied Gibberlings.

”Undurak!” Aniceth commanded firmly, drawing the signs in the air. The staff of Garaz flickered and darkened. The Gibberlings had a limited ability to sense thermal light, but they still preferred to use torches. The evolution had not developed them far enough to give them a chance to live without light.

They avoided many patrols by hiding in the shadows, the enemy could not see past the illuminated spheres their fires created. It was unefficient and silly, but most helpful for the two friends sneaking through their realm.

Angwar hated traveling blindly through an enemy region, even though Aniceth guided him with great precision. The basic problem he had was not concerning the trust for his companion, but the utter feeling of helplessness he faced in the dark. Angwar was a Darfin and they were proud folk, brave enough to stand against the most baneful enemy, but his true Darfin nature had been pushed aside and suppressed for fifty odd years, and he did not want to suffer from it any longer, although he knew this arrangement served them well.

The Gibberling patrols formed a difficult problem for Aniceth as he tried to figure out their schedules while dodging them, but for his shocking surprise they did not seem to have any! These cursed creatures seemed to wander around randomly in the border tunnels without any kind of regular cycles. This chaotic and unpredictable system eventually got them into trouble.

They waited in the shadows for a large patrol to pass, but when Aniceth walked out with Angwar right behind him, another patrol approached behind a steep curve, leaving no time to hide. It was time to use the alternative way they had planned earlier. In the light of the torches Angwar was able to see the enemies He realized what was going on in a heartbeat and stepped forward to confront the Gibberlings.

The leader's bug-eyes widened until it looked like they might just pop out when he saw two dark figures suddenly appearing in front of him. The rest of the patrol gathered behind their leader's back, trying to see what was waiting for them ahead. The Gibberlings seemed a lot smaller than Darfins now that Angwar was standing next to them, but the actual difference was not that great. The Darfin was much sturdier than his meager and skinny cousins. A straightforward warrior compared to these worms.

”Who goes there?” the leader hissed, trying to sound threatening without succeeding too well.

Angwar glared angrily at the startled creatures as he stepped closer, but he remained silent for the time being. Now in the vicinity of their torches, the easily recognizable figure of a Darfin caused many terrified gasps as the Gibberlings saw their old enemy appearing out of nowhere. Some of them seemed to be ready to flee when Aniceth followed his friend, revealing his presence as planned.

”What is this? An attack against Grudgan?” the leader squealed.

”If it was, you would have been slain already,” Angwar spoke with a murky voice. ”But no, we are ambassadors of the united army.”

The Gibberlings were struck by the grim news. It was the nightmare they thought could never become reality; two of their most powerful enemies banded together. The grey-skinned creatures glanced at each other with growing panic in their enlarged eyes.

”If you are not here to kill us, then what are you doing here?” the leader of the patrol finally asked, feeling ashamed for his shuddering soldiers who were supposed to be defending him.

”We want to send a message to your king,” The Darfin declared. ”The alliance of the Arathans and Darfins would like to invite the Gibberlings around the same table to discuss the terms of adding the brave warriors of Grudgan to our ranks. We would form the strongest force in the entire Everdeep.”

The leader had hard time to believe his ears. If this was true, the king would reward him generously for bringing this urgent matter to his consideration. He straightened up and stood as tall as he could in front of Angwar. This Gibberling had a chance to look important, and he was going to enjoy every second while it lasted.

”I will escort you to the city,” he offered, but Angwar shook his head.

”We must return to our commanders, for if we fail to do this, ten thousand Arathans and Darfins will attack Grudgan and destroy every quarter of it, and the blood of your fallen kin will turn the streets of your city crimson.”

The Gibberlings gazed at each other fearfully, and the leader's expression changed from confident to hesitant during Angwar's speech.

”However,” The Darfin continued, gaining the undivided attention of the entire patrol, ”I have a suggestion that will prevent any of this from happening.”

”I am listening,” the leader said eagerly.

”Pick two of your men to go with us and meet with our commanders, while you,” Angwar pointed at the leader, ”can travel back to Grudgan and report to your king. The two of you, who are chosen to go with us, will serve as messengers in order to set up an audience between our commanders and your king.”

The leader looked relieved as he turned around to his soldiers. He picked out two of them quickly and almost pushed them toward the Darfin.

”I will inform our king about this proposal, and I expect the messengers to return within a week.” the Gibberling said.

Angwar smiled coldly at him. ”A week is more than enough, they will return in two or three days.”

The leader smirked, feeling very content about how this sudden turn in his career had occurred, then he ordered his soldiers to line up. Without looking back they marched into the tunnels, leaving Angwar, Aniceth and two very uneasy Gibberlings behind.

”This would never work in my homeland,” Aniceth whispered just barely loud enough for Angwar to hear. The Darfin smiled widely and poked his friend playfully.

”Nor in Othrond, but they swallowed it without problems, so let's use the advantage it grants us.”

Then Angwar turned to the Gibberlings standing around nervously, casting longing glances after the patrol that vanished behind the walls.

”We need to pretend that we are your prisoners,” he explained to the filthy creatures, who listened carefully, eager to follow every wish of these dreadful figures. ”We want to get through these tunnels as fast as possible to discuss about the matters at hand with our leaders, and then let you return with the news. The fastest way I see is that you act as our guards who are escorting two prisoners.”

Two pairs of bulging eyes stared at him, unblinking, but as the entirety of the matter slowly penetrated their thick skulls, a broad smile appeared on their ratlike faces. They would get to escort a Darfin and an Arathan through the tunnels, and every patrol that crossed their path would see their valuable prisoners. The amount of respect among their community would be enormous. All of a sudden they were eager to begin the journey that had gained whole new interesting aspects.

Then Aniceth stepped forward and explained them quickly that he would create some light, and that he would give that light for them to carry until they reached their goal. The suspicion vanished quickly as it was replaced by an almost overflowing pride. One of the Gibberlings took the glowing staff from Aniceth with shuddering hands, staring at it blissfully like it was a long lost holy artifact that finally returned home. Then they formed an escort, the Gibberlings on both sides, Aniceth and Angwar in the middle, and they followed the tunnel into the darkness.

Every Gibberling they encountered stared at the prisoners with pure horror in their eyes, and then, with deep admiration at their guards. It was the best day these two poor creatures had ever experienced during their miserable lives.

Amazed by how well Angwar's plan actually worked, Aniceth tried to appear all dangerous and threatening. Together with the eerie glow of the Staff of Garaz, this very unusual sight would be the subject number one in Grudgan for a long time.

 

* * *

 

”We are getting far from home,” one of the escorts said after hours of walking.

”Excellent, let's keep moving,” Angwar said, and his tone had changed from respectful to somewhat rude. The Gibberlings gazed around fearfully, but they did not dare to speak. However, a sneaking suspicion had been haunting them ever since they left the border of Grudgan behind.

Then, after another hour of traveling, the Darfin finally halted.

”This is the end of the journey,” he grunted, grabbing the Gibberling in front of him by the filthy, grey hair, bending the slithering creature's neck, he drew his sword and slit the Gibberling's throat from ear to ear, cutting so deep that the blade was gnawing the bone. Blood gushed from the gaping wound as the dirty creature slumped down, dead before his body even touched the ground.

Aniceth followed his example, knowing that this was Angwar's small personal vengeance for what these creatures had done to him. He also knew that these border patrols were usually nothing more than untrained Gibberlings without any status in their own society. The true warriors were guarding the gates of Grudgan, and it was really those who had attacked Angwar's expedition in the past, but if this made his friend feel any better, then he was willing to act upon it. Everdeep would not miss a couple of these dirty worms in any case.

After grabbing the remaining terrified creature by his neck, Aniceth raised him up in the air. The miserable thing tried to squeal for mercy after witnessing the fate of his comrade, but there was none in store for him. The blade of Foregil sank into the Gibberling's back, through his heart, and then slid out from the chest after crushing the rib cage out of the way. The impaled Gibberling had a few seconds to stare at the blood-dripping blade before the veil of death covered his eyes. Aniceth swung the sword, tossing the bleeding corpse off to the ground, where it fell with a dull thud.

Angwar's face was ashen and grim. He took no pride from these dark deeds, but he felt no remorse either. These forsaken creatures were the reason for his somber years of enslavement, deadly addiction to the bluedust fungus, and for endless suffering in the hands of the Arathans. All the long years of agony away from his family!

Aniceth laid his hand on Angwar's shoulder, offering his silent support. The Darfin did not seem to react, but he appreciated the gesture. They both knew why this massacre happened, but there was no way for Angwar to redeem what was already lost. His only chance was to move on, and maybe in time, he might find a way to forgive, for it was something he could never forget.

”Let's move on,” he said harshly.

Aniceth picked up the fallen staff from the floor and followed the Darfin silently into the darkness.