Send a spelling or grammar correction to: Tracy Johnson
This is a first draft of a story set in the world of Greyhawk.
It is based on a home campaign so some of the people, places and things
may be different. Any helpful comments or suggestions are very welcome.
Thanks
Jason Zavoda
A knight rode at a gallop down the old road. The long columns of
marching troops moved to either side then reformed as he passed, like
water before the prow of a ship.
Matholwch had no eyes for the soldiers and no ear for their
grumbling. His mind was elsewhere. He paid only enough attention to avoid
trampling down slow-footed troopers.
"To Hells with the March and its commandant." he swore to the air.
They did not hunger for this fight as he did. The regulars and the knights
were held back, while the auxiliaries were pushed forward. Sons and
daughters of Geoff warriors, their desire for vengeance did not make up
for their lack of training.
The Gran March spent the lives of its volunteers with ease and no
regrets. Matholwch knew the Marchers. They were a ridged folk and
practical. Better ten foreigners die in battle than a single March
soldier.
There would be a price to pay for Marcher help after the giants
were gone, no matter how much blood was spilt by the Geoffites serving in
their army. It was the colors and emblems of the Gran March that they
wore, not of Geoff.
Matholwch's shield and pennant bore the black and white of Geoff
and not the white, red and blue of the March. Some troopers yelled curses
after the knight, coughing them out through the dust raised by his
passage, but others cheered. Almost every nation of the Flanaess was
represented by some member of the auxiliaries, but the greatest number
considered Geoff their home.
The walls of Hochoch brought the knight back to the present and
pushed his anger at the commanders of the Gran March army into a corner of
his mind. There were no more troopers in front of him. The road was clear
and the first company was moving out into the muddy, ravaged field that
circled the city.
"Ho! Matholwch!" a voice called out to him as he left the road.
"Do you mean to take your stallion into that mess?" Seidi pulled aside the
hood of his cloak and let the muddy canvas tarp he used for camouflage
fall back.
"Seidi. I am glad to see you." said Matholwch.
"Look at you in that armor." Seidi made a clicking sound with his
tongue. "You'll sink up to you armpits if you try going across that field
in all that steel."
"I've been up to the wall before." answered Matholwch.
"I know, I've gone with you, but you had sense enough to leave
the cooking pots behind." the young ranger scolded.
"That was scouting, this is war." said Matholwch seriously.
"Scouting." Seidi looked to where the troopers picked their way
through the mire. "I know how to fight giants. You call it scouting."
"Ambush and Raid." said Matholwch. "It hasn't driven them out
and it never will. We will free Hochoch and then Geoff this way."
"To the Hells with Hochoch." Seidi was very grim. "Let them have
it. Let them starve in there. Your way is what they want. It will
cost dear your way, and for what?"
"I know what it is going to cost." said Matholwch. "And I know
who is going to pay the greater part of the butcher's bill, but it needs
to be done if there is going to be any Geoff left."
"It's a wilderness now." said Seidi. "There are worse places
than Hochoch and worse things in Geoff than the giants."
"I haven't seen what you've seen Seidi." Matholwch swung himself
from his saddle and carefully dropped to the ground.
"I don't know how you move in that kettle," said Seidi, "let
alone get off that bloody great horse."
"Practice." Matholwch smiled. "The way you can disappear while
standing in an open field."
The two friends clasped arms in greeting, forgetting their
differing opinions for the moment.
"The time is here." said Matholwch. "Finally."
"For good or ill, it is." Seidi agreed.
* * *
(To Be Continued...)