Chapter 5: Old Acquaintances

He gazed from the hilltop down to the quiet, peaceful village before him. Reaper sat at his side, invisible in the dark night, all three heads yawning. Bors snickered at the unfortunate village that was before him; it was going to be a long night.1

“Shall I ready the troops, my lord?” Bors asked excitement evident in his voice. His three-fingered hand stroked his sword hilt, ready to put it to its deadly work.2

He stared at the village. There was business he had to take care of before the raid began. He glared at Bors with a look that was as cold as ice. Bors did not like that look; he had felt the results from that glare before…3

“Do not speak,” he hissed. “You will get to have your fun soon enough, but I have business to take care of first.” Reaper’s ears perked up at the mention of the business that was to come.4

Bors cringed in fright. “S-shall I accompany you, my lord?”5

He had Bors in the air by his neck in an instant. He squeezed tighter and tighter, Bors’s eyes beginning to bulge from their sockets. “Did I not just tell you to be quiet?” he whispered dangerously; Bors was beginning to turn blue. “Well? Answer me!” Bors tried to talk, but all that came out was a gurgle. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He threw Bors down forcefully, hearing a satisfied crack as Bors’s nose broke under the forceful throw.6

Bors got up slowly, blood streaming from his broken nose. “Go back to the camp and await my return.” Bors stared at 7

him. “Well? What are you waiting for? GO!” Bors ran away as fast as he could down the hill to the camp where his master’s horde awaited orders to begin the raid.8

He turned back to the village. He was down there; he knew it. He turned to Reaper. “Let’s go.”9

The two set off down the hill. The horde had left weeks ago and had made good progress. Hundreds of villages had been burned along the way; he smiled as he recalled the village of Sundar where a woman had begged for him to spare her child. He had taken the child and split it in half with his axe before her very eyes; she soon followed the child to the grave with sword through her ribs. He laughed aloud and Reaper looked at him curiously. He stroked the dog’s middle head fondly.10

As they neared the bottom of the hill, he heard the distant trot of a horse’s hooves. He hid behind a tree, Reaper doing likewise and beginning to growl. He held a finger to his lips for silence and the dog obediently fell quiet. As he gazed at the horseman, he immediately recognized the white horse with large patches of brown on it. Reaper’s ears perked up as it gazed at the horse. 11

“So,” he thought, “he still has that old horse. That can’t be him though; he is much too young…”12

He nodded his head at Reaper to follow him. Reaper set off silently behind the rider, not making a sound even in the dry summer grass. He relaxed against the tree; it might be awhile before Reaper returned. 13

He closed his eyes. His thoughts returned to those days long ago when he had been one of the noblest knights in all of Farlonia; days seemed like they were a dream; days when he had been known by a different name…14

He pulled the battleaxe from the loop on his back. He studied the axe, his most trusted weapon since he had acquired it so long ago. He ran his hand down the handle of the axe, it seeming to have a tail wrapped around the entire length of it. He ran a finger down the edge of its blade, sharper than anything in Farlonia. The thing that always caught his eye when he looked it over was the small imp-like head that was at the top of the handle. Where its eyes should have been were two onyx gems, black the night, black as his armor; black as his heart…15

He lifted his gaze from the axe when he heard the soft padding that signaled Reaper’s return. He stood up and looked at his faithful companion. “Well? Is it he?” Reaper nodded its three heads in response. “Lead the way.”16

He followed Reaper into the woods beside the worn, dirt path, keeping to the shadows so they could remain unseen incase someone came by. After a short walk, they came upon an old farmhouse.17

“Is this it?” he whispered. The dog’s middle head nodded its consent. “Stick to the shadows and come when only if I call you.” Reaper’s heads nodded and he started towards the farmhouse. He stopped when he stepped on something soft. He looked down to see the rider’s dead, mutilated corpse on the ground, his throat torn out and his arms missing. He looked at Reaper and nodded at the dog’s handiwork.18

He crept silently to a window at the front of the farmhouse, staying out of sight by crouching. Light was flooding into the dark night from the windows. He lifted his head slightly so that he could peer into the house. He was looking into the living room of house. A pretty young girl sat in an armchair sewing; a great sheepdog lay by the fireplace. His gaze fell on the man, in his middle ages with gray just beginning to steak his brown hair. He smiled; he had found him.19

He crept to the front door and stood straight. The peaceful silence of the night was broken as the girl screamed and the dog barking when he busted the door down with one powerful kick of his. He walked calmly into the farmhouse, his black armor shining even in the dimness of the candlelight.20

The man ran to the hallway, a sword in his hand, the girl and the sheepdog close behind. He was quite satisfied with the wide-eyed look of surprise when the man’s eyes met with his and the shaking of his sword hand.21

He laughed. “It has been too long, hasn’t it Gram.”22

“You,” Gram snarled. His blue eyes flashed angrily. “I should have known that you were behind all of the attacks on those villages and towns. I thought you were dead…”23

He held his hand to his heart in mock surprise. “Dead? Me?” His eyes narrowed. “Surely you know that you can’t get rid of me that easily, did you?”24

Gram’s sword arm tightened. “What do you want here Garrett.”25

His mouth tightened at the mention of his name; few knew it. His mouth slackened quickly though. “You know what I desire my old friend,” he replied. “Where are they?”26

Gram’s smirk told him what he needed to know. “They aren’t here, Garrett. They are long since gone.”27

Garrett had Gram in the air by the neck in an instant. “Where are they,” he breathed menacingly. “It would be in your best interest to tell me, old friend.”28

Gram struggled to breath, but he kept his composure, even in the face of death. “I will never tell you where they are.”29

Garrett looked thoughtful. “Yes, you are right. Your will is too strong. But, I wonder how strong your daughter’s will is…”30

Gram’s eyes flashed with fierce anger. “If you touch my daughter, I will-” his statement was cut off as Garrett squeezed tighter, cutting off his air further. Gram could hardly breathe as Garrett tightened his grip even more. There was only one thing he could do. He raised his sword arm and slashed. The blade hit Garrett’s steel clad arm, barely making a scratch, but loosening the iron-hard grip enough for him to shout out, “Selena, run!”31

Selena ran as fast as she could up the stairs. Garrett shook his head sadly. “First you scratch my armor, and now you make me chase after you daughter?” He snarled suddenly. “You shouldn’t have done either of those.” Garrett slammed Gram into the wall with such force that he broke clear through the wall. Then, setting him lightly against the wall, Garrett slugged Gram across the face with his gauntleted hand, smashing Gram’s nose. He tossed the unconscious man aside easily before turning to the stairs.32

Bear was there waiting, his mouth curled back and baring his sharp teeth. Garrett shook his head and whistled. Reaper tore pass Garrett and slammed into the old sheepdog. The two dogs rolled around, snapping and barking. Garrett walked pass the two dogs; Reaper could take care of himself.33

He walked up the stairs, the sounds of the two dogs fighting filling his ears in the background. He slowly drew the battleaxe from its loop on his back as he arrived at the top of the stairs. The top floor of the house was more or less an attic of sorts. There was a small bed in the corner and a small washing stand. He laughed; there was no place to hide.34

He stalked around the top floor, his boots not making a sound as they landed on the wooden planks of the floor, and made his way to the bed. He lifted the blanket and peered under the bed. His dark, evil eyes met with Selena’s wide, fearful ones. She screamed at the top of her lungs as Garrett reached under and jerked her forcefully from underneath the bed. He lifted her easily into the air, flung her over her shoulder, and walked down the stairs.35

When he arrived at the bottom of the stairs, Selena screamed and passed out as she saw Bear’s remains, the saw the old sheepdog torn to shreds, Reaper not showing a single scratch on his body. Gram was beginning to stir where Garrett had left him, blood still gushing from his nose and from a gash on his head. Garrett replace the axe in its loop, slugged Gram across the face once more to knock him back into unconsciousness, and threw him over his other shoulder. He whistled for Reaper and they left the farmhouse.36

Outside, Garrett had a thought. He laid Gram and Selena down on the ground looked back at the farmhouse.37

“Watch them,” he said to Reaper. Reaper sat next to Gram and Selena and watched. Garrett walked around the barnyard and found a large barrel of oil. He took the barrel and poured a trail of oil all around the yard and inside the house. He found a tinderbox and lit the oil. Flames spread throughout the entire farm in a matter of seconds, engulfing everything; buildings, fences, animals were engulfed in the flames.38

Garrett walked calmly back to Gram and Selena and threw them over his shoulders again. He walked out of the farm, Reaper behind him, the flames rising higher in the night sky, crackling in the night and the sounds of dying animals filling the air. It had been a good night…39

Garrett and Reaper arrived back at the encampment a short time later. He went straight to his tent and laid the two down. Bors entered soon afterward, looking curiously at the two unconscious figures on the ground. When Bors looked at his master about them, he just glared at him. Bors turned his gaze away.40

Garrett looked at Bors coldly. Bors felt tiny beneath that gaze. “Well? Are the troops ready?”41

Bors looked up, surprise written on his face. “My lord?”42

Garrett rolled his eyes. “Are the troops ready Bors. I’ve finished the business I had to take care of.”43

Bors cackled gleefully. “I shall ready them immediately, my lord. Is there any special request you like me to carry out to them?”44

Garrett stared coldly at Bors, the look that was like a thousand tons of ice. “Spare no one,” he whispered. “Burn everything to the ground, kill any livestock, and most of all,” he paused. “Slaughter their children. Kill the babies in front of their mothers and revel in that sight of pure horror.”45

Bors bowed low as he left. “As you wish, my lord.”46

Bors ran out of the tent happily. He ran through the camp calling the horde to arms. Goblins, orcs, humans, trolls, and other evil creatures grabbed their weapons and formed ranks. Bors stood at the head of the horde when Garrett stepped out of his tent. Garrett stared at Bors at the front and scowled. He grabbed Bors roughly and threw him aside. Garrett turned to his horde and grinned.47

“The time has come!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. “It is time to destroy this pitiful village that dares to exist! Take no prisoners, and leave none alive! Kill them all; slaughter their children! Take the babies and kill them before the mother’s very eyes! Burn the village to the ground! Now FORWARD!” The horde shouted great pleasure and charged forward, waving their weapons in the air, ready to kill the unsuspecting villagers.48

He grabbed Bors just as he was about to join in the charge. “Not you,” he snarled. “You are to watch the prisoners.” Bors’s disappointed look gave Garrett a small sense of pleasure. “You may do what you like, but do not kill them. I still need them.” That brought a gleeful look to Bors’s face; he liked torturing people…49

Garrett kicked Bors. “Well? What are you waiting for? Get to it!”50

Bors scrambled away from him and ran towards the tent. Garrett shook his head and turned to his horde. Already he could see smoke rising from the direction of the Norman’s Hollow. He looked to Reaper who had just trotted beside his master. He nodded towards Norman’s Hollow and Reaper took off into the night, Garrett following close behind.51

When the two arrived at Norman’s Hollow, he was pleased with the sights that he found. Goblins were rounding up the children into the square, then hacking into the crowd of children, their mothers screaming protests and begging for their children’s lives; they were killed next. Others in the horde were burning houses down. Reaper could wait no longer and tore off into the chaos, immediately tearing a small boy limb from limb. 52

Men from the village began to form ranks under the direction of a strong blacksmith wielding a giant war hammer that he must have forged. The blacksmith showed great skill in using it, killing several goblins every time he swung it. Garrett normally wouldn’t mind losing a few soldiers, but with being so close to Salador, he could take no chances.53

He pulled the axe from its loop and charged into the group of men, which raised the goblins’ morale some. The goblins plowed into the men with their leader in their midst, trolls and other races of the horde joining in the fray. Garrett singled out the blacksmith, challenging him to a duel. Hans Jacobson met the challenge with a fury. He swung the war hammer ferociously, though Garrett easily evaded the blacksmith’s attacks.54

He focused his energy into the battleaxe, the onyx eyes glowing dangerously. Hans suddenly felt as though everything was hopeless, like nothing in the world mattered to him. Hans felt weak; the last thing he saw was the battleaxe coming down in a ferocious downward swipe; the last thing he felt was its razor edge crashing into his skull.55

With their leader gone, the remaining men threw their weapons down in surrender, hoping to be spared by their captor’s mercy. What they didn’t know is that their captor has no mercy. Garrett laughed at them, and without a second glance, turned away, reveling in their screams as the horde slaughtered each and every one of them.56

Garrett watched as a bard of some sorts tried to run away into the night. He shook his head and snatched a javelin from a nearby goblin, took aim, and launched it at the poor fellow. The javelin struck home in his back, piercing his lungs and heart. He walked calmly to the man, who was scarcely breathing. He bent down to look into the man’s eyes, which were beginning to glaze over.57

He grabbed the man’s lute, which was inscribed, 'Olav Troobel's Lute of Doom.' “So, you are Olav Troobel?” The man could not reply. “Well, here’s your lute.” With that, Garrett smashed the lute into Olav’s head, finishing the job that the javelin had started. 58

Garrett straightened up and looked around. Norman’s Hollow was completely destroyed. Houses lay in ruins; bodies littered the ground, mostly the villagers of Norman’s Hollow though some of his horde lay on the ground with them. Garrett grinned; it had been a good raid. The sound of clashing steel still sounded in small regions of the town, but they were becoming quite rare.59

Reaper trotted up to Garrett, its tail wagging happily. He stroked his faithful companion’s three heads warmly. He watched as a troll grabbed a man and snapped him in half, shaking his head in admiration at the troll’s strength. 60

Reaper’s bark was the only warning he got. He spun around just as Gram’s longsword came crashing down. He was startled to see Gram, but the surprise wore off in a split-second. He backed up calmly and readied the battleaxe.61

Fury and pure hatred shone in Gram’s eyes. A crowd of Garrett’s horde formed a circle around the two combatants, eager to see their master at work. One goblin got close to Gram and was slain on the spot and Gram took the goblin’s roughly made wooden buckler. Garrett sized Gram up. “How did you escape,” he asked. He said it so casually that he might as well have been asking what the weather was like.62

Gram reached behind his back and pulled out the head of Bors from a bag on his belt, its tongue lolling out of its mouth. “You should know one man cannot hold me in check,” he snarled. He threw Bors’s head to the side and readied his longsword. “What do say to your lackey being slain?”63

Garrett shrugged his shoulders. “Eh, I was going to kill him in a few days anyway; he really is quite annoying you know.”64

Gram could take it no more. He raised the longsword and charged. He swung the sword and it met with the satisfying sound of sword on axe. Gram didn’t stop. He pressed his attack, each time it was met by Garrett’s axe. The horde watched in awe as the two combatants continued their epic battle.65

Gram jumped back, but Garrett came right back in, working magnificent forms with his battleaxe, Gram countering every one of them with his sword. Their weapons became a blur as the pace of the fight picked up, the sound of steel on steel becoming one long screech of metal. Garrett could see that even though Gram was old, his body had not succumbed to weariness. The two stopped and took a step back. The buckler had been broken early in the fight and Gram had discarded it.66

Garrett leaned on the battleaxe. “Why don’t you tell me where the boy is? If you had told me, this whole ordeal could have been avoided,” he said, gesturing all around him at the carnage. 67

Gram looked around. It was true; Norman’s Hollow had been completely destroyed. Fires burned all around, the bodies of the young and old lay sprawled throughout the street, the bodies of his closest friends, Hans and Olav, all dead… Fire roared in his eyes and he charged in once again.68

The encounter did not last long this time. As Gram charged in, blinded by his anger, Garrett dodged to the right quickly, dropped down, and stuck his foot out. Gram, unable to stop his momentum, tripped over Garrett’s foot and fell flat on his face, his sword flying from his hand. He weakly tried to grab his sword, but Garrett kicked from his reach.69

Garrett grabbed Gram by the hair and hoisted him into the air. He stared into Gram’s eyes, still burning with that inner fire. “Kill me,” Gram whispered.70

Garrett shook his head, “No, you are still of some use to me. I may need you soon.”71

Gram smirked. “At least you don’t have my daughter anymore.”72

The evil grin that spread across Garrett’s face made Gram’s blood freeze. He snapped his fingers and a man clad in dark armor strode to the two men. 73

“NOOOOOO!!!” Gram screamed, tears streaming from his eyes. In the man’s right hand he held Selena’s severed head, her brown eyes glazed over in death, her tongue lolling from her mouth.74

Garrett laughed at Gram’s pain. “You may have killed Bors, but you must remember: he meant nothing to me. On the other hand, your daughter meant the world to you, so in a way, your loss is greater than mine.”75

Gram could not answer, tears still streaming down his face. Garrett shook his head and threw Gram into the ground. Gram did not move, but he lay weeping on the ground. “Tie him up,” he ordered. Gram did not resist as several goblins grabbed him and tied him up tightly and hauled him off towards the camp.76

Garrett looked at the carnage once more. He smiled at his horde’s handiwork. His gaze fell to Bors’s severed head and the smile became a grin. It had been a good day…