Continued from No Rest for the Weary.
Ulagret shifted uncomfortably, closely examining one of his arrows before notching it in his shoddy longbow. The obsidian arrowhead was crudely made, and if there was more time he would go about making sure that all of his arrows were better crafted. Unfortunately, the army was operating as a unit, and whoever had made this batch of arrowheads had done a poor job shaping them.
All of the arrows he had made were pristine works of art in their own right, but what could he expect? He was a trained craftsman, and shaping small objects such as this came as second nature to him. At least all of his arrows had appropriate fletching, so they should fly well enough.
The dugouts were packed full of soldiers, men and women from all different races armed with longbows. Though he was no battle strategist, Ulagret felt that the defense plan was well-thought out. There were dozens of them from each race ready to rain down a hail of arrows upon orders from the centaur, who stood behind the dugouts.
Using the trees that had been cut down, they had constructed a makeshift wall. With the strength of the trolls and centaur, it had been fairly easy to construct, and some of the felite druids had used their magic to bind it all together. Overall, these trees would offer them great protection while still affording them a view of the battlefield.
Making up the rear of the army, both elvish and felite druids were ready to reinforce any weaknesses in the wall, heal and injured, and throw the occasion vine should the need arise. Ulagret couldn’t help but feel uneasy about the situation though. This army numbered under one hundred strong, which, if the scout was correct, meant they were outnumbered; not to mention the fact that an arch demon led the enemy. This would be a significant battle. Why hadn’t any dryad shown up?
“What are you thinking about?” asked Innap, breaking Ulagret’s thought process.
“Huh? Oh, nothing. Just preparing myself for the attack. I’ve never seen an arch demon before.” Ulagret had trouble keeping the apprehension out of his voice.
“I’ll tell you what,” said Innap with a smile. “Survive this battle and the first thing we do afterwards is I teach you about making wine.”
“I thought you were going to teach me anyways,” said Ulagret.
“Well, maybe. But, I’ll teach you sooner rather than later. The point is, don’t worry about it. Just focus on keeping your wits about you. Use those arrows until the enemy is upon us and then be ready with that bronze sword of yours.”
“Of course. This isn’t my first battle,” replied Ulagret. “I may not have your legendary exploits, but I do know how to handle myself.”
Innap laughed, and a few of the other soldiers turned towards him with looks of confusion. Ulagret covered his face with his left hand and shook his head.
“Everyone at the ready!” shouted one of the centaur standing behind the dugouts.
One of the elves over to the left of Ulagret shot Innap a discouraging look. Innap just smiled back in return.
“Do you take anything seriously,” whispered Ulagret.
“Yes. I take humor, entertainment, and wine making quite seriously.”
“You’re insane.”
“It’s the only way to be!”
“Load your arrows!” commanded the centaur. The enemy had to be approaching.
Everyone followed the command, and for as far as Ulagret could see down the dugouts, each soldier had a stoic expression; except Innap of course. Still, the satyr loaded an arrow in his bow, and held it in resting position.
“Take position!” yelled the centaur.
There must have been a lot of demons approaching, because as this command was issued Ulagret started to notice the ground around him shaking. Dirt started to fall from the dugout walls, and small pebbles began to rattle. Everyone in the army held their bows up at the ready.
Ulagret felt his muscles tense as he pulled back on the bowstring, holding steady and aiming in the appropriate arch. With the amount of trees they had cleared, they would be able to fire at least three or four times before the enemy was too close. If they were lucky, that meant they could wipe out a significant number before engaging in close-quarter combat.
If they were lucky.
“Fire!”
Ulagret let his arrow fly, the sound of snapping bows filling the dugouts as everyone grabbed for another arrow. By the time Ulagret had another one notched, he noted that some of the other elves had already fired a second arrow. Innap was moving quickly as well, and let his second projectile soar.
Not letting his slower speed discourage him, Ulagret pulled back on his bowstring and let the next arrow fly. The ground continued to rattle, and he could hear the sounds of footsteps pounding on the earth.
Ulagret fired a third, a forth arrow, and then he heard the dreaded command.
“Draw your swords!”
Dropping his bow, Ulagret reached for the bronze blade at his side and fell back into a defensive stance. Time seemed to slow as he aimed his blade upward, waiting for the inevitable. From his peripherals, he saw some demons diving down around him and engaging his allies in combat.
With a blur of black, leathery flesh, a large demon dove down from above. Ulagret exhaled loudly and plunged his blade upward, closing his eyes and praying for Evorath’s blessings.
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Hailed as the J.R.R. Tolkien of the 21st century, Joseph Macolino is the author of the Evorath series, providing good fantasy books to those looking for heart-pounding action in a magical world.