Chapter 3 - A Difficult Decision

"I now call the assembly of Cliffton to order."

Gregorex listened as Samek's booming voice rang out.  The assembly had gathered on the outskirts of the village, in the shade of a grove of trees.  To the west, igh thin clouds shone bright red as the sun gently descended toward the horizon.  To the north stretched the Great Swamp.  Gregorex had always been somewhat fascinated by the swamp, though he detested the mosquitoes that always seemed to buzz around it.  The swamp was impenetrable--it was part of what made Cliffton such a strategic location.  If Slumbutter and Dor-ko ever made their way through the mountains to Cliffton, they would still need to traverse the Great Swamp in order to get to Freedom Pass.  And no one, to Gregorex' recollection, had ever made their way through it.

The assembly of Cliffton was fairly small, consisting of Samek, Gregorex, Pilch, Old Ferd, and Korbi.  Samek sat on a stump facing the rest of the group, all of whom were sitting on logs.  A small fire crackled in their midst.  To Gregorex' right was Pilch, diligently taking notes of the proceeding.  Old Ferd sat to the left of Gregorex.  He was the village elder, a man well into his 70's.  His gray beard was so full, and his gray hair was so long, that it seemed like all you could see on his face was a pair of beady blue eyes.  He was somewhat eccentric, but he was a wise man who'd spent his entire life in Cliffton.  He spoke little, but his words were revered.

To the far left of Gregorex sat Korbi, the village shoemaker.  He was the most prosperous businessman in the village, and as such was very respected.  In fact, virtually everyone in the village wore a pair of Korbi's shoes.  People would occasionally grumble about his prices, but in the rugged terrain of the Ragged Mountains, a good pair of shoes was critical.  Gregorex had never developed much fondness for the 35-year-old redhead.  He didn't really understand why the man bothered him so much; maybe it was the way he could be so friendly with people yet still charge them so much money.  Or maybe it was his smug confidence, or his gentle disdain for others.  Gregorex was like that--he operated a lot on intuition.  And he was rarely wrong.

About 100 yards behind the assembly stood many of the townspeople.  The horn had never been blown before, and they knew that the assembly would only meet in the gravest of emergencies.  They remained respectfully silent, but Gregorex knew their ears were straining for any loose words from the group.  They were understandably nervous.

Gregorex' wandering mind was brought back as Samek continued.  "Gentlemen, we have a dire emergency before us.  We have evidence that Slumbutter and Dor-ko are on the move.  Gregorex discovered an advanced party several miles to the southwest.  They appear to be constructing a road of some sort.  And since Freedom Pass is the only route through these mountains, we have every reason to believe that they are heading here, for Cliffton."

The assembly silently absorbed Samek's words.  Korbi was the first to speak.  "Can you be sure that it is Slumbutter?  Seriously--can that beaten-down, rag-bag bunch of frightened fighters really be planning an assault on Aberdeen?  I find that hard to believe."

Gregorex, whose fuse was normally pretty short, couldn't take much of Korbi today.  "Excuse me, Korbi, but I was nearly punctured by an arrow from those jokers.  The arrow was clearly made by Slumbutter's archers.  When your being shot at, such things are not so 'hard to believe'."

While Gregorex fought to contain his anger, Korbi remained calm.  "Ah, so you were shot at?  I am truly sorry."  Then, turning to Samek, Korbi continued, "I might suggest that Gregorex be a little more cautious in future scouting expeditions.  There is no doubt that the pace of Slumbutter (if that's truly who it is) will be quickened by the realization that they've been discovered."

Gregorex rose up and turned toward Korbi.  "Have you ever been shot at in anger, you pansy!  When you've got the courage to go out and be within range of the enemy, close enough to see the color of his eyes, close enough to smell his horrible breath, then you can lecture me about caution!"

"Please sit down, Gregorex," interrupted Samek.  Gregorex sat, casting a glance at Korbi.  The shoemaker remained expressionless, looking toward Samek and nodding his head.  Korbi was unflappable, and it drove Gregorex crazy.  Gregorex could hear the villagers murmur in the distance.

Samek continued, "We can settle such matters later, gentlemen.  We are being watched, and we must conduct ourselves with dignity.  The question before the assembly today is: What are we to do?  You know how I feel about Slumbutter.  I would love nothing more than to stand our ground and obliterate every last one of his weak-kneed warriors..."

Samek's words caused Gregorex' thoughts to drift yet again.  Yes, he knew how Samek felt about Slumbutter.  Four years ago, Samek was a farmer in the foothills of the Jagged Mountains, which lay a few miles to the west of the castle.  Samek had been in the fields, laboring with his stubborn crops, when Maximilian had banished Slumbutter and his minions to the Western Wastelands.  Slumbutter's westward trek caused him to pass through Samek's farmland.  As he passed through, Slumbutter had approached Samek.  "Could you spare some corn for my men?" he'd asked.

Samek drew his sword which hung ever by his side.  "No, as a matter of fact I can't!" he'd replied.  "And if you're lucky, I might decide not to take a corncob and stuff it down your throat!  Now get off my land!"  Gregorex had heard every word at the time, for he was a hired hand in Samek's fields.  He'd never made much money, because Samek was not much of a farmer.  But Samek's daughter Annala was exceedingly beautiful, and Gregorex always enjoyed sharing supper with her after a day in the Aberdeen sun.

Slumbutter had raised his hands in response to Samek's threat, and had simply turned away and motioned for his men to follow.  But when Samek had returned to his home that evening, he found that the house had been ransacked by Slumbutter's depraved soldiers.  Everything of value had been taken--the family jewels, his bow and quiver full of arrows, and his spears.

And worst of all, his wife Susannah and daughter Annala were gone.  

Samek had run outside and yelled, calling out their names.  He looked in every hollow and behind every tree, but they were nowhere to be found.  Gregorex had followed him every step of the way, and Gregorex had provided the shoulder that Samek had wept upon for what seemed like hours.

Susannah and Annala had not been seen since.  Yes, Gregorex knew how Samek felt about Slumbutter.

Samek's voice snapped Gregorex out of his reverie.  "But though our position is strong and our people are brave, our numbers are few," said the chief of Cliffton.  "I propose that we alert King Maximilian and ask for his help.  I know no other way."

At this point, Pilch stopped his scribbling.  "But sire, how shall we get word to the king?  There are only two ways to get to the castle.  If we backtrack through the mountains, then we'll surely be caught by Slumbutter and his goons.  But if we charge through the Great Swamp--well, we'll probably be swallowed alive into the earth.  No one has ever made it through the great swamp!"  Then the fearful scribe shook his head and started scribbling again, in order to document the question he'd just asked.

"Actually, Pilch, there is one creature that knows his way through," replied Samek.

"Who is it, sire?" asked the incredulous Pilch, who for a moment almost forgot to write.

"It's not a 'who' at all," said Samek.  "It's a horse.  Four years ago, when the king dispatched Gregorex and me to come to Cliffton, he told me that Spartacus alone knew the path through the Great Swamp.  Of course, that's like the king, isn't it?  He wouldn't leave his people without a path of escape.  Spartacus and his rider shall navigate their way through the great swamp."

Gregorex was intrigued, since Spartacus was his horse.  "But who is going to alert the king?" Gregorex asked.

"I shall go," replied Samek.  "The pathway to the king may be filled with great danger.  No one knows what lies in the forest between here and the castle.  I could ask no one else to do it.  I shall go."

The assembly was silent for a moment.  Oddly, Korbi stood and stretched, though he said nothing. After he sat back down, Old Ferd spoke up.  "Samek, you must not go," he said slowly, rising to his feet.  "If Slumbutter attacks us before you return, the village will be lost.  All will live in fear; none will be able to stand.  But if you remain, the people will be strong.  They will fight for you, Samek.  They will lay down their lives to the last man.  They will not yield until the last arrow is launched, until the last spear is thrown, until the last sword is drawn.  No, Samek...you must stay."  Then, as Old Ferd sat back down, he added, "Spartacus is Gregorex' horse; send him."

Gregorex absorbed the words of the wise old man.  He loved adventure; he'd be willing to go.  He almost spoke up, before he was distracted by the sound of someone approaching.  

It was Samek's son.

Chapter 2 - A Call to Assembly

"You saw WHAT, Gregorex?!"

With those words, Samek leaped out of his chair, his head nearly smashing into the ceiling of his humble hovel in the middle of Cliffton.  And when his stocky frame came back to earth, the dirt floor seemed to tremble.  What Samek lacked in height, he made up for in thickness.  Samek's feet kicked up dust into the air as he began to pace around the house.

"I saw a band of men--or more likely, slaves--building a roadway through the forest," reported Gregorex to his master.  "They are not close--it took Spartacus and I about 4 hours to make it back.  But clearly, someone is on the move."

Samek scratched his scraggly hair as he continued to pace around the inside of his home.  Samek was the chief of the village of Cliffton, which lay on southern fringe of the Kingdom of Aberdeen.  Samek and his servant Gregorex had been sent to this village by King Maximilian himself, shortly after his return to the throne four years ago.  Yet despite their exalted positions and  friendship with the king, Samek and Gregorex lived a humble existence, dwelling in a simple one-room home in the midst of the village.  A table, two chairs, and a couple of straw beds made up the furniture in the home.  It didn't take Samek long to take a lap around the inside of the house, and Gregorex grew dizzy trying to follow his visibly disturbed master.

A few moments of awkward silence followed, as Gregorex stood in the middle of the room, encircled by Samek.  Gregorex cleared his throat in an attempt to break the silence.  Finally, Samek asked, "Who do you think it was?" 

"I'm not sure, though I did manage to grab this arrow that they shot at me.  Here, take a..."

"YOU WERE SEEN??!!" demanded Samek, who again flew through the air at this disturbing revelation.

"Yes, I was seen!" retorted Gregorex.  "Hey, I suppose it didn't occur to you to ask, 'Are you okay?  Did the arrow hit you?'  I almost became a human pincushion, and yet all you care about is that I was seen!"

Samek paused from his pacing and turned toward Gregorex.  More soberly, he said, "Yes, of course, Gregorex.  You are right.  If there was a group of men in the forest, they certainly would have had an advanced scouting party."  Then, reaching toward Gregorex, he said, "Let me take a look at that."  

Gregorex handed him the arrow.  A few more quiet moments ensued as Samek carefully examined the shaft.  He nimbly rotated it through his large fingers, his eyes studying every detail, then closing in apparent meditation.  Then, passing it back to Gregorex, his deep, penetrating voice broke the silence.

"Gregorex, you know why we were sent here.  Our village is all that guards the southern flank of the kingdom.  If an army were to penetrate through these woods, ascend the Ragged Mountains, and march through Freedom Pass, then they would have a direct line to the castle.  That is what we were sent to prevent at all costs."  After a dramatic pause, Samek continued, "Gregorex, our hour has come.  It is time to act."

"I don't get it," replied Gregorex.  He always grew annoyed when Samek introduced his dramatic pauses.  Gregorex was not the theatrical type.  "All right, so some band of bums is clearing a road.  I don't like it, and you don't like it.  But what makes you think they pose a danger to us?"

"Look at this inscription," Samek replied, handing back the arrow.

Gregorex scrutinized the shaft.  He soon found the writing, very carefully inscribed in the arrow. "I see.  It says, 'Supremacy - Dominion - Partnership.'  What in the world is that supposed to mean?"

"DON'T YOU SEE?" Samek bellowed.  His impetuous nature had earned him the moniker "Sudden Samek", and Gregorex had learned to weather his impatience.  Without waiting for Gregorex to respond, Samek continued.  "This is code language.  The 'S' is clearly for Slumbutter, and the 'D' is for Dor-ko.  The word 'Partnership' represents their alliance.  Those two ne'er-do-wells, despite being banished to the western wastelands four years ago, have re-grouped.  They are marshaling their forces and they are preparing another assault.  Wretches!  Troublemakers!  Their thirst for power and conquest is insatiable.  Someone once said, 'It is hard to kick against the goads.'  Well, my friend, Slumbutter and Dor-ko are preparing to kick once again.  Our job is to make it hard!  To crush their feet!  To send them back to the miserable holes from which they crawled!"  Samek punctuated his exclamation by pumping his considerable fist into the air.

Gregorex pondered this a minute.  Then he replied, "That sounds great, Samek.  But our village is pretty small.  And you might be strong and everything, but I don't think that you are singlehandedly going to repulse any kind of attack.  I don't care how big your biceps are.  We're going to need some help."

"Yes, of course," said Samek, overlooking Gregorex' mild insolence as he sat down and rested from his pacing.  His face, which had grown bright red as he pondered the impending assault by Slumbutter and Dor-ko, returned to its natural color (which was still fairly red).  Then, at the top of his lungs, he barked out, "Hey Pilch!"

"Yes, sire!" came a voice from outside.  A short, slender man with a high, raspy voice came scurrying into Samek's hut.  "What can a do for you, sire?"

Pilch was the village clerk.  He had also been sent by the king to work alongside Samek and Gregorex.  While Gregorex had been appointed to patrol the southern forest, Pilch had been appointed to help Samek administer the affairs of the village.  Gregorex was the outdoorsman; Pilch was much more of an indoorsman.

"We need to blow the horn of assembly, Pilch," directed Samek.

"Er, sire, uh...we've never blown the horn of assembly before," said Pilch.  He obviously was uncomfortable with the command.

"That because we've never needed an assembly before, Pilch!" retorted Samek.  He reached up on the mantle over the fireplace and grabbed the rusty old horn, mumbling under his breath.  Handing it to Pilch, he again demanded, "Now blow it!"

"But sire...uh, do you mean now?"

"NO, I MEAN TEN YEARS FROM NOW!"  The force of the outburst nearly sent Pilch sprawling on the ground.  "WHEN HAVE I EVER ASKED YOU TO DO ANYTHING AND NOT WANTED IT DONE AT THAT VERY MOMENT--OR BEFORE?!"  Samek then reached and grabbed the horn back from Pilch.  "Hey, I'll blow it," he declared.

"But sire, you are not authorized to blow the horn of assembly!" Pilch protested.

"Authorized shmautherized," Samek replied.  He put the horn to his lips and blew.  Nothing happened.  He blew harder.  Spittle scattered around the room, dousing Pilch and Gregorex, and Samek's face again grew red.  But not a sound was emitted.  Samek tossed the horn back to Pilch.  "All right, fine," he declared.  "You blow it."

Pilch grabbed the horn and blew.  A shrill, piercing blast penetrated the silence.  It was followed by an audible bustling throughout the village.  An assembly had been called.  Samek, his face set like a flint, marched out of the house.  The eyes of the village were upon him.

Chapter 1 - The Guardian

Gregorex was not happy.  And when Gregorex was not happy, the world needed to look out.

For the past four years, he'd been appointed as the guardian of the king's southern forest.  His job was simple--to ride his horse through the vast, densely wooded, mountainous land and make sure that all was peaceful and calm.  It was the best job in the world, because the land was beautiful and no one lived there.  Gregorex just got to gallop through the countryside and breathe in the delicious mountain air.  

Until now.

Gregorex had heard some persistent noise on the southern slope of the Ragged Mountain range.  It was the sound of saws and hammers, of timber crashing to the forest floor, of men bellowing but never laughing.  It was a sound that didn't belong.  So he spurred his horse Spartacus on to take a closer look.

Gregorex reached the top of a cliff and reigned in.  Sliding off his horse, he gazed down at the scene below.  Sure enough, a group of about two hundred men were slashing a roadway through the king's forest.  Trees were being felled and shoved off to the side, making a path through the forest about 20 yards wide.  The men had grave looks on their faces, exuding expressions of misery.  But they had no choice but work, for taskmasters with whips and swords were driving them ever onward.

Who were they?  

Gregorex, who knew every inch of the forest like he knew his backyard, started to head off to the right.  He knew of a path that would take him down and allow him to get a closer look.  As he turned to head down, he was startled from behind.

"Hey, Joran, lookee there!  It's no deer, but it is an awfully ugly man!"

Gregorex spun around and saw two men approaching.  They each had a bow in their hand.  Evidently, they were a hunting party, sent to find food for the laborers.  The one who had spoken was a tall wisp of a man who seemed to disappear when he turned sideways.  The second was an exceedingly fat man who was nearly hyperventilating after coming up the steep pathway.

"Well I be, Jeb, you sure are right!" said the fat man.  "Well, I've not 'ad much of a chance to shoot today, so I'm gonna take my target practice right now!"  And he drew an arrow and let it fly toward Gregorex.

Gregorex didn't feel terribly threatened by the hunters.  He ducked as the arrow flew past him and into a nearby tree.  Taking care to grab the arrow, he quickly and silently dashed back toward his horse.  He knew that the pudgy fellow wouldn't have the energy to follow, and that the skinny man wouldn't dare to leave the pathway.  He absolutely hated to flee--his first instinct was to maneuver behind the mindless dolts and send an arrow through their hearts.  But his master had been clear--his job was to watch, not to fight.  So he re-mounted his horse and headed back to the northeast, back to Cliffton.  

As Gregorex sped through the woods, he was pierced by the uncanny feeling that he was not alone.  He swore he could hear the clattering of hooves to either side, but whenever he stopped to listen, the sound disappeared.  Ignoring a nagging sense of fear, Gregorex wove his way through the forest.  Spartacus need no direction--he knew the way as well as his rider.  After four hours of riding, they reached the final ascent--a wide but steep path leading to Gregorex' home village of Cliffton, an ancient village sitting astride Freedom Pass.

Suddenly, Spartacus would not budge.  He would not heed his rider's urging to climb the last hundred feet of elevation.  He shook his head, turned around, and veered off the path.  He whinnied and snorted and reared up on his his hind legs.  No amount of coaxing could persuade him to climb the path.  In utter frustration, Gregorex raised his eyes and looked up the path.

That was when he saw them.

Two mysterious figures, cloaked in black with hoods covering their faces, stood on either side of the upper end of the path.  Gregorex was filled with dread.  He knew now that he hadn't imagined those noises earlier, that he had been followed.  He was startled by his fear of these strangers, for Gregorex was fearless by nature and would always welcome a good fight.  But at the sight of these men, his heart trembled and his hands shook.

"Spartacus, let's charge them!" he cried.  But it was in vain.  The mysterious fear had engulfed his horse as well.  Then the men slowly started to descend the path, relentlessly advancing toward Gregorex.  They said nothing, and they made no noise as they moved.  One held a spear, and the other held a bow with a notched arrow.  Gregorex wanted nothing more than to spur his horse back into the woods and flee from these strangers.  But he also had a nagging sense that there was no fleeing from them.  Gregorex, a man of instinct, quickly appraised the situation--he would either have to fight his way through, or die in the attempt.

"Fools!  Morons!  Dunderheads!  Iconoclasts!  You'll regret the day you ever challenged ol' Gregorex!" he bellowed as he leapt off Spartacus and charged toward the two ghoulish men.  The man on the right let his arrow fly.  Gregorex instinctively hit the ground.  Rolling to the left, he deftly grabbed an arrow from his own quiver and let it fly.  Without looking to see where it landed, he grabbed his dagger from inside the folds of his cloak and charged the second man.  In blind fury, he dove and thrust his dagger at the man's heart.

But when he opened his eyes, all he saw was two cloaks.  The arrow that he'd shot pierced one of the cloaks to a tree, while his dagger pierced the second cloak to tree branch.  There was no sign of anyone--of footprints, of horses, of wounded men.  Gregorex shook his head, retrieved his horse, and entered the village.  His master would need to know everything.