Never be predictable in a fight.

Control where, when and how the conflict is fought.

…and if possible, get someone else to take your place.

“I’m not doubting you, son, I just…”

“Go ahead Chuck, say it,” Wendell challenged, taking two steps down with each leap. The wizard was hard pressed to keep pace as they ran down the tower. The warning bells of Til-Thorin sounded without ceasing. Soldiers could be heard shouting orders to subordinates. “You question if I’m actually nuts,” he mocked, “that maybe what I’m telling you really isn’t in the letter.”

“Well, yes,” the wizard faltered, stumbling and catching himself against the wall. “No! No,…” he righted himself and sprinted after Wendell. “I’ve got no right pointing fingers at anyone—not after what I’ve seen…” then less loudly, “or done. But it is difficult, to believe, not being able to actually see what you see. But I have no reason not to believe you, son.”

Wendell stopped at the archway of the Great Hall. Children and women were looking about, confused as the sound of distant drums grew louder. He looked the wizard, point blank.

“You can always walk away, Chuck.”

“What are you talking about?”

He looked at the dozens of children clinging to one another—clinging to their mothers. “I have enough pressure trying to keep up appearances, without having to convince you too. You were right. I found my way here without you. You can leave.”

“Now wait just a minute, that’s not what—”

“What you meant? Then what are you trying to say, Chuck?”

The wizard frowned, but said nothing.

Wendell shrugged, “Sooner or later I’ve got to figure out what I’m meant to do. I’m glad and grateful, that you, Alhannah and Dax were here for me, but am I supposed to wait on you? Only act if I have your approval?”

Chuck scratched his forehead with a boney finger, thoughtful. “But wandering around, listening to voices you can’t see? You’ll start looking like,” he glanced at the children nervously and leaned in closer to whisper, “…well, me.” He shot Wendell a pleading look, “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always been quite fond of myself…but I’m not the best example. You mistake my intent here, son. I’m not criticizing you so much as worried you might look a bit odd to others. A hero should maintain a more…respectable example, don’t you think?”

“You mean, like screaming, running away from danger, falling off cliffs and getting lost?” He couldn’t help but crack a smile.

Chuck returned the smirk. “Touché.”

Wendell waded through the Great Hall. “Ok. I’ll tell people you’re the one hearing the voices, then,” he said aloud.

Chuck followed after, shaking his head at the questioning glances from the women-folk, “Now wait just a….”

****

The first thought Wendell had, once he climbed atop the curtain wall, was that it might have been less frightening had there been more noise. Something other than the shrieking wind or the heavy drums ripping through the darkness. But there were no yells, battle screams or roars from the enemy—the anger and animalistic behavior he’d witnessed time and again. Just the endless beat of the drums. A heartbeat to the approaching carnage.

A gigantic pillar of what looked to be black smoke, billowed up from the center of the enemies camp. The blackness hit an invisible ceiling in the sky, rolling outward and blotting out any sign of the heavens. Thick smoke fell downward, saturating the air, making it hard to breathe. Wendell watched the blanket descend across the snow, turning it ashen grey.

Then they appeared. Silhouettes against the camp fires.

The Vallen horde.

Hundreds of them. Giants pushing through the snow with battering rams on wheels, while others marched forward with interlocking shields. Others carrying shovels and picks followed close behind. They broke off into three groups as they reached the main ramp to the front outer gate.

At first Wendell just…stood there, watching the enemy approach. Soldiers yelled from the walls, preparing for the attack against the gate. Lord Joram appeared along the upper bulwarks and barked out orders.

Bowman shot at exposed arms and legs, piercing the flesh of giants as they pushed the battering ram up the ice-covered ramp. Bodies stumbled from under the machines protection…and arrows immediately rained death upon them. Vallen fell upon the jagged rocks below, turning grey ice, black.

But the enemy sent new fodder to push forward. Shoving through the sleet, up the ramp and against the gates of Til-Thorin.

Boulders silently descended from the skies without warning.

“TREBUCHET!” shouted Joram, guards repeating the cry along the walls.

The projectiles showered the courtyard. Wagons exploded and fragments of wood became new weapons of death—impaling unsuspecting soldiers. The howling wind masked the approaching sound of the missiles. Both curtains trembled, but held. A portion of the catwalk exploded next to Wendell. The body of a young soldier slid against his leg, blood pooling at his feet.

“Get him down from here!” shouted Chuck angrily. He snapped at the gnome and pointed forcefully at Wendell. “You’re still his bodyguard ‘Hannah and you won’t get a copper if he dies tonight, understood?” He peeked over the wall at the collection of Vallen now pounding at the portcullis with their battering ram. “And I swear I’ll dock you if he loses a limb.”

“Come on Wendell,” she snapped, tugging on his tunic, “we need to find you some shelter.” She turned to descend the steps.

“No,” Wendell muttered, pulling away from her, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Chuck pushed past him to get a better view of the battering ram below. The walls vibrated with each impact of the log against the portcullis. The siege machine’s roof protected the enemy from the human archers.

“Then make yourself useful. There’s plenty of opportunity—just don’t get in the way…or get yourself killed.” With a few words and a wave of his staff, the battering ram caught fire. The giants beat at the flames, flinging snow to squelch them, but the magic quickly consumed the logs and sent the enemy scurrying away.

Arrows rained down upon their backs as they ran.

The wizard laughed mockingly, “If this is the best they can do, I don’t think we’ll have much to worry about.”

Tha-THUMP-THUMP!

Wendell’s noticed shadows shifting in the distance. His chest clenched tight. “Chuck, what’s…that?” he asked, squinting and pointing at the rim of the enemies camp. Figures lumbered along, dragging what looked to be trees, which were collected into piles.

What are they doing?

Two separate fires came to life. Within moments, the flames rose higher, defying the rage of the wind. The light revealed four trebuchet being reloaded, two on either side of a ring of black robes.

Chucks expression changed.

A single silhouette stepped up between the mounds of flame.

The wizard pulled his wide brimmed hat down around his brow and rolled back the ends of his sleeves.

“Best get off this section of the wall, children,” he said matter-of-fact. “Looks like they can do better.”

“What?” said Wendell, but Alhannah was already pulling him away.

“Come on!” she yelled, “This fight’s out of our league!”

Chuck stood tall and tossed his staff to the side. It floated to a halt and stayed suspended in mid air. “Everyone back to the inner curtain!” he shouted, “And where are the blueberries?!”

Altorin appeared at the bottom of the stairs. “Morphiophelius?”

Chuck gave him a grave look, “They have a coven. We won’t be able to match power for power, but with your help, we can make it costly. Burn them out and force them to meet us physically.” He waved his hand at the Elder like he was shooing a child, “Tut. Tut. Off you go now. You on one wall, Gaidred to the other.”

Altorin ran off as fast as his chubby body would carry him.

“You can do this, right Chuck?” Wendell called up, still resisting Alhannah.

The wizard gave him a goofy of course I can, silly, grin and waved him away.

Wendell nodded and followed after Alhannah and the retreating soldiers.

Chuck sighed, then whispered to himself while cracking his knuckles, “Of COURSE we can do this. Right?” The fires in the distance rose higher into the air, churning.

He gulped. “Surrrre.”

The flames in the enemy camp climbed higher and higher, both spires swaying and leaning closer as they grew. Red and yellow strands of light wrapped around each other, becoming one, swaying like a drunkard in the wind.

And then it fell.

The thick spire collapsed forward, onto the ground, with a hiss of steam.

Snow melted and evaporated.

“Oh my,” gasped Chuck, a little put off by the creative nature of the spell.

A flaming centipede emerged and rumbled across the field. Black smoke billowed up from the scorched ground, ripping up the soil with every step of it’s legs. All three hundred of them.

Chuck scratched his head.

“Come on you old fool…what can you…” and then he smiled to himself. Quickly raking his hands through the air, he brought them to his chest and yelled “Mä kule minun pūlen KASVÄ!”

The field rumbled. Snow exploded. Soil pierced the icy, grey crust. Chuck rolled his shoulders forward, his tongue hanging out from the side of his mouth. “Come on…that’s it….”

Just as the centipede reached the halfway mark between the enemy camp and Til-Thorin, he made a sudden grasping motion in the air. In response, four immense hands jumped up from the soil. Fingers outstretched, they grabbed the centipede, clenching tight, and pulled it under ground—its mandibles snapping uselessly.

A piercing shriek echoed across the field…and the light within the hole vanished.

“HAH!” cheered Chuck. He did a victory dance and thumbed his chin in the direction of his attacker. “And THAT’s how you DO it! UH-HUH!”

He looked around smiling brightly. His smile soon faded, however, when he remembered he was alone.

Shrugging, “It’s ok Chucky-boy,” adjusting the collar of his robe, “…you don’t have to be noticed to be cool.”

Several boulders sailed uncomfortably close to the wizard, exploding in the courtyard.

“Woah, boy!” he gulped, throwing himself to the ground as a boulder destroyed a merlon next to him.

Kneeling up, he shook his fist, “HAH! …YA MISSED!”

The field lit up as the two enemy fires raged. Figure after figure jumped from the red and orange light. Centipede’s charged along the ground at fantastic speed. The spires vanished behind a wall of black smoke emitted by the summoned beasts twisting, tearing and raking at the ground.

Chuck gulped, counting them. “Nine?!” he frowned. “YOU ARE SO CHEATING!” he screamed, almost slipping on the ice under foot.

He looked down. Snow squished and melted between his exposed toes. The corners of his mouth curled upwards.

Leaning over the edge of the wall, Chuck whispered to the wind. The snow bank, which had built up from the storm, from beating against the outer curtain wall, began to tremble.

The centipedes raced up the field, melting through snow and leaving small flames in their wake. Black claw marks across the soil.

Altorin and Gaidred shouted incantations into the wind. Sections of the ground collapsed across the field, taking the beasts with them. But there was nothing to prevent the creatures from crawling back out.

The tactic only slowed them down.

Chuck continued to whisper, the wry smile growing behind his beard.

The snow melted, streaming down the cracks and grooves of the stone, pooling at the base of the wall. The water from under the dead trickled along the ramp of the front gate.

Chuck whispered louder, sweat trickling down his brow from exertion. Like a fountain, the liquid bubbled and rose upward—reaching, stretching, taking on shape. It hunched over, the new form, leaning upon the ground like a great ape.

“Chuck!” cried Gaidred.

The centipedes jumped from the holes.

Chuck lips now moving in silence.

Two giants became four, then six, then ten.

“Go get ‘em boys!” the wizard shouted to his creations.

The giants adjusted their helmets…and charged.

Sprinting across the field, the linebackers increased in size and speed with each step—collecting water from the snow. Each footstep left dry ground behind. Arms out wide, they hit their targets head on. Water hissed and evaporated as centipedes were doused, steam exploding into the atmosphere. A linebacker hit the ground, missing its target and soaking the soil.

“DOH!” the wizard cried. “Come on boys—timing! TIMING!”

It was a dance of chaos. Weaving and jumping, the liquid defenders waiting until the last possible moment to lunge. With each hit, soldiers started cheering from the inner curtain. Hit after hit, the attackers died in explosions of steam…the Iskari Elders using their magic to slow the charge.

The last two centipedes raced up the hillside, confronted by the last two water elementals.

“Get ‘em boys!” screamed Chuck. He made a wild swinging motion with his fist.

The linebackers raced across the field.

Suddenly the centipede’s changed directions, speeding in a collision course one with another.

“Woah, woah…” gasped the wizard, “…no, no, no, no!”

The impact was silent and the merger lit up the field in a great ball of flame. It consumed everything within a hundred feet.

The linebackers lunged, arms outstretched…and burst into steam.

A thousand legs emerged from the explosion, unharmed. Within moments, it raced across the last of the field and leapt at the wall under Chucks feet. The impact nearly threw him into the courtyard below.

Magical flame engulfed stone and mortar, melting all to slag.

“We’ve got company!” Chuck shouted, jumping from an uncomfortable height. The impact was hard and he struggled to get up. Hobbling as fast as he could across the open ground, he waved wildly to the Iskari, “Come on boys!”

The Elders sprinted after him and Altorin grabbed the wizards arm, looping it over his shoulder. “I’ve got you!”

Chuck grinned in appreciation and leaned upon him. Blood matted his beard, trailing from his nose. “Not as easy as I remembered,” he coughed, “but I don’t think the Tauku’ll have much juice left after that. It’s up to bone and sinew now.”

They made it through the gate as the first of the Vallen invaders reached the base of the gaping hole.

“The enchantment has been breached!” Gaidred shouted, following Altorin.

King Robert, standing atop the gatehouse, nodded and pulled the strap of his shield tight. “Joram, seal these doors and move the children to the chapel!”

“Yes, sire!”

More than a hundred soldiers, armed with sword and shield, stood at the ready. Fifty more wielded long spears, pointed their weapons at the inner gate.

King Robert drew his sword. “THE ENEMY FALLS HERE!”

There was a thunderous cheer from all the men within the Keep.

Wendell watched the King in awe. Such confidence, he thought. He breeds strength into his men…and they know he cares. Wendell’s mind replayed the scene in the mountains, when he watched the destruction of Til-Thorin last Steward. His heart pounded faster.

Dax pushed up next to Wendell. He’d found a small vest of chain mail, and a couple heavy maces. They looked more like toys than weapons in his oversized hands.

He had a disturbingly big grin on his face. “What did I miss?!”

Altorin and Gaidred hobbled past, Chuck stumbling between them.

Dax dropped the maces, “He ok?”

“He will be just fine, Dax,” answered Altorin, “—just a case of magnificent overexertion.”

Chuck’s head flopped to the side, “I always knew you were the smart one on the Council.”

Joram marched across the courtyard, two soldiers in his wake.

Wendell noticed that Animal and his companions had spread across the steps of the Keep. They were a sight. Faces serene, bodies covered in leather and fur cloaks, each standing tall, weapons displayed. Hammers, swords, spears, knives, whips and then there was Animal—who wielded a pair of oddly shaped axes.

Joram turned to the guards, “Move the women and children to the chapel and then prepare the Great Hall to receive casualties.”

“Yes sir!” they responded.

Wendell caught a glimpse of Lili. She was being moved into the main part of the Keep.

“You know, I’m not going to be much use out here,” he stammered, “I never did learn how to fight. So…maybe I should go help inside?”

Alhannah looked at Dax. He shrugged.

“Chuck’s already inside,” Wendell justified, “…he might need some help.” He grinned wide at the gnome. “I could help.”

“I…think that’s a wise decision, Wendell,” she replied.

Wendell turned to leave.

“Say hello to Lili,” she added.

Wendell flinched. Dax laughed.

He jogged across the courtyard and up the steps of the Keep. Animal stared at him intently as he passed. Wendell slowed down. What’s HE looking at? He was about to ask, when an arrow sailed over the wall, and lodged into the throat of a soldier.

It was a young man standing at the base of the steps.

“SHIELDS UP!” the King shouted, “ARCHERS, RETURN THAT FIRE!”

Animal knelt down and closed the soldiers eyes. Looking back to Wendell, he nodded his head in the direction of the doors.

“Get inside.”