Erasmus was looking out through a porthole in the mound’s face, looking down at the army spilling into the field before the gate. Throughout the place, rangers were busy hauling wagons of earth and blocking up every side passage, trying to funnel the attack to come through the main gate where they would hold a final stand.

Lord Hobb of the goblin-men rode amongst his host upon his chariot. His great mace in his hand like a sceptre. The warriors cheered and rattled their weapons, throwing insults at the tree-fort. They had suffered much and lost many kinsman in the gruelling march through the Deep Weald. And now, with the final obstacle in sight, they were howling for blood. The mercenaries sang tavern songs and beat drums.

“Friends! Goblins! Countrymen!” called Hobb. A great cheer came up like a rolling wave.

“You have driven your enemies before you!”

“HOOAH!” in unison they stomped their feet or hit the ground with spear staves or the butts of muskets.

“You have cornered them likes rats in their holes!”

“HOOAH!”

“Our fallen brothers have lain the foundations of a nation with their sacrifice! With the blood of the foe, water the fields of your new kingdom! Once more unto the breach!”

“HOOOOOOOAH!” The goblins threw themselves into a frenzy. Engineers were sent forward with barricades. Sharpshooters began unleashes volleys at any opening on the strange tree-mound, forcing Erasmus to duck for cover when musket-balls tore at the gap where his head had been. Cautiously peeking over the sill, he glimpsed wagons being brought forward carrying barrels which burly men hefted out. Barrels which were conspicuously painted red. They were going to blow the front gate apart with powder.

A desperate exchange of volleys went past back and forth, while Erasmus went down the passage to join the men at the front gate. He looked around, rangers and paladins alike were all tired, most sporting wounds. In silence they set about their work in building barricades. With grim determination, they wanted nothing but to make a good account of themselves, and slay as many of the enemy as they could before they themselves were overrun.

Erasmus thought about what would happen after, when the enemy would run loose through the tunnels like polecats in a rabbit warren. Now the time had come to it, the thought of leaving Erda and the other healers to the mercy of the goblin-men galled him. He was not ready die.

At that moment, Conn and Ruadh came up to him. “Mister Erasmus?”

“Aye, Conn? Something on your mind?”

“I… I just wanted to say that… well, it was an honour fighting alongside you.”

Erasmus smiled. “And I you. All of you.”

“I just wish my cousin were here…”

“Bran stayed behind in the Sentinel Tree, right? I didn’t spot any of the enemy artillery. It must still be under siege. They might yet break free.”

“I hope so.”

“If there’s a chance that you’ll see Bran again, let that be your strength.”

Conn looked up in confusion. “Sir? I get your meaning… but…”

“But you’ve decided to die here?” Erasmus cocked an eyebrow.

“Well… yes.”

“Haven’t we all?” asked Ruadh.

“Indeed. As did I. But now that we’ve come to it. I’ve decided that plans sucks donkey dick.”

Ruadh was at a loss for words. “What in heaven’s name…”

“If we’ve decided that we’re going to lay down our lives here, then that’s just as good as accepting defeat. I say, to hell with that. If I’m going to fight, I’m fighting to win.”

“Have you lost your mind?” said Ruadh. “At this point, its not possible…”

“Is that so? There isn’t nothing that can decide that but The Heavens.”

Erasmus turned and pointed at some random ranger. “You there, friend. What’s your name?”

“Uh… Cormac… sir.”

“Have you a family?”

“I’ve a wife and two daughters.”

“Do you want to see them again?”

“More than anything.”

“And do you want the enemy to bury you?”

“Hell no.”

“What was that? Speak up!”

“Hell no!”

“Cato! Old friend! Do you want your career ended here by some forest hobo!”

“Bugger that, ‘Rasmus!”

“So what will you do about it?”

“I’ll bloody kill all the bastards that try to!”

“You hear that everyone?! We are not dying here! We’re going to fight! And we’re going to win!” Erasmus drew his sword and thrust it into the air. The sight of the flashing steel lit a fire in the hearts of every man who saw it. As one, they drew their weapons and thrust them up. Chanting “ERASMUS! ERASMUS!”

They chanted and sang, trying to drown out the sound of the enemy drums. Suddenly, Ruadh’s ears perked up.

“Everyone! Hush! Listen!”

In confusion, the men became quiet, watching Ruadh as he sat by the gate, listening. The heard little but the crack of muskets and the beatings of drums. But then. the sounds of trilling pipes could be heard, faintly at first.

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“Haven’t heard those pipes before…” said Ruadh, straining to hear. But then another note came, a high horn blast.

“That’s…” Conn’s eyes went wide. “That’s a ranger horn.”

Erasmus raced back up the passage and to the high windows, Ruadh and Conn racing after him. “Ruadh! Take me to the highest window possible! Hurry!”

Soon, they came out to a platform shaded by leaves. Erasmus looked over the vast plain, swarming with goblin-men and mercenaries. He could hear the piping louder now, carried on the wind. The enemy heard it too, and they milled about in confusion. Over the empty plain behind the army and at the edge of the tree-line, figures began emerging. Erasmus shaded his eyes.

Ruadh gasped. “I see a banner now. It can’t be… that’s…”

Erasmus recognised it too. “The Dwarves!”

Indeed, a band of dwarven bagpipers came marching out of the forest, banners waving above them while they belted out some sick celtic jams. Close behind them were columns of warriors, their silvery helms and scale shirts glinting in the light.

But they were not alone. On either side, the steep roots were now alive with leaping shapes, covered in hair. Troll-men with spears and bows. The columns of dwarf infantry parted. There strode the tall Lord Husdrapa of the mountain dwarves, in full plate. Lord Wasan of the Troll-men, was beside him, beard woven with iron rings, his bear-cloak wrapped around his shoulders. Beside them was Bran and the rangers who had been left in the Sentinel Tree. Bran rushed past the pipers and blasted his horn. The host of rangers, troll-men and dwarves poured out from beneath the trees, letting out fierce cries

“Holy shit…” muttered Ruadh.

“It’s Bran! I see him! They broke the siege!”

From behind Wasan, Myra emerged, adorned with mail shirt and helmet. She stepped forward, eyes scanning the great army before her.

In the enemy army, panic and confusion at this new enemy was taking hold. “Who the hell are they!” shouted Snaga the mercenary captain of the shadow-men.

“It can’t be…” muttered Hobb, standing up in his chariot. “Dwarves… trolls… why would they be here!”

“You never said there would be a whole another damn army!” shouted another mercenary.

“My lord! We are surrounded!”

“Shut up! The lot of you! There’s only a few hundred of them! Captain Snaga! Captain Flagg. Take your freebooters out and drive them off.”

Grimly, the two captains set forth. With practiced efficiency, the bands of mercenaries formed up in a bristling array of spears and muskets.

“They outnumber us still,” Lord Husdrapa of the dwarves said, lifting the visor of his helm to view the mercenaries marching towards them. “It will be hard fought.”

“Miss Myra, you should move to the rear,” Wasan’s voice rumbled and groaned like falling gravel.

Myra shook her head and gripped the handle of her new axe. “The front is where my friends are. The front is where I’ll be.”

Wasan laughed heartily. “You’re a good lass. Stay close to me.” The giant troll-men strode forward, wrapping his bear cloak tight about him. The black fur rippled, and up stood a fucking huge ass bear, with a beard even. Standing on his hind legs in his bear-form, Wasan let out a roar that drowned out all else. The troll-men howled with him. Wasan, leaping clear over the bagpipers, went racing off toward the foe.

Husdrapa drew his sword. “Charge!” horns blasted, and dwarves, troll-men and rangers hurtled across the plain. Bran and Myra were side by side, the guard of the dwarf-lord behind them.

“Halt!” Captain Flagg, waved his sabre at the giant bear that was rushing for them. “Fire!” smoke spat from a hundred musket barrels. Hot lead tore into the dirt, some into bodies, but most were aimed at Wasan. Tufts of fur and blood were ripped from the monstrous bear, but still it came charging forward.

“Prime weapons! Hurry! Shoot that bloody thing!” More muskets cracked, but it did nothing to stop Wasan as he smashed into the front ranks, sending men flying with every sweep of his claws. Despite being speared and slashed, Wasan pressed on and broke clear through the ranks. Close behind, the allied army poured through the gap or crashed into the mercenaries. Lord Husdrapa and his armoured guard fell upon the enemy like a steel avalanche, bright swords flashing. Troll-men leapt over the heads of the soldiers and fell amongst them, crushing helmets and pulping skulls with mighty strokes of their clubs, or else were skewered by enemy spears.

Erasmus and the others watched as the two armies clashed. Ruadh had tears rolling down his bearded face.

“I can’t believe it. They’ve come to help us…”

“It seems the dwarves have come to pay me back,” said Erasmus. He looked down at the sight of the enemy army. The goblin-men still had the mound surrounded, working hurriedly to get the breach underway, stacking barrels of powder against the gate. But now there was a gap between the goblins and the mercenaries. Erasmus’ eyes found Lord Hobb in his chariot and his guards, milling about in the centre of field…

“Ruadh,” he said suddenly, “are there any other exits we haven’t blocked off?”

Ruadh considered the question. He gestured over their right, pointing to a river that wound from the foot of the mound and ran into the forest. “You could get out through there, but the river is swift and deep, you would risk getting dragged under.”

“Good enough! Come with me!” he went racing back down the passage. Soon they were back in the gate-room. Erasmus, panting, addressed the men.

“Lads! Help has come! The Troll-men and Dwarves have freed our boys from the Sentinel, they’re attacking the enemy as we speak!”

A hearty cheer went up. “But they are outnumbered! They’ll be surrounded and cut to pieces if we don’t do something now. The goblin leader is exposed between the armies. Ruadh is going to lead me out through the rapids below. I’ll come out out into the field, rush over and take Hobb’s ugly head from his shoulders!”

“But he’ll have his heavy guard around him,” said a ranger. “You’ll need to break through them first.”

“They’ll surround you while he gets away!”

“They’re right,” said Kregan, the tallest paladin. “We’ll go with you Erasmus.”

“You’ll need all the help you can get if you want to get him quickly,” said Conn. “I’ll go with you too!”

“You’ll need all of us if this is going to work,” said another nameless ranger.

Erasmus shook his head. “They’ll blow down the gate any minute now. We need to leave enough men behind to hold down the fort.”

“We’d be overrun and the goblins will have the run of the place,” said Ruadh. “We’d need everyone here.”

“No…” a voice rang out from the darkness. “You only need one.”

All eyes turned to the top of the slope. The Lady Erda was there, helping support Pike as he limped forward, a ranger’s sword in his hand. He was wearing a suit of armour, styled in swirly patterns and celtic stuff like that.

“What? You?” said a paladin. “Is that a joke?”

“Shut it,” Erasmus snapped. “Pike, can you really? If you had your sword maybe, but…”

Pike shook his head. “I’ve sold that off to pay the weregild. It’s no longer my sword. But I’ve got more up my sleeve than that, even if it is dangerous without the sword’s power.”

Erasmus looked around at his men, and at Erda, at a loss for what to do. Pike stepped forward and laid a hand on Erasmus’ shoulder. “Erasmus. I’m not throwing my life away before I know we can win this.”

Erasmus smiled “Good. Me neither.”

“Can you do it?” asked Pike.

“How long can you give me?”

Pike nodded. “Five minutes, once they break through.”

“That’ll do just fine.”

Pike grasped Erasmus’ hand. “Don’t fuck this up,” he said, before limping over to a barrel and sitting himself down.

“Alright lads,” Erasmus spun on his feet. “This is it! With me!”

“Wait!” Erda ran up and kissed the paladin on his cheek. Erasmus embraced her in turn. She then embraced Ruadh and turned to the other men. The rangers knelt before her while she muttered an old rhyme, bidding the ancestors and the guardian spirits to safeguard them. That done, Ruadh led the paladins and rangers away into the dark corridors. Erda was alone with Pike, the clamour of battle ringing from outside. A few healers were standing in the corridor. “Lady Erda, please hurry.”

She nodded, but hesitated awhile, looking at Pike’s back as he sat there, sword resting on his knees. “Go on now,” he said. “Get as far away as you can. I don’t want you to see this.”

“Pike,” she said. “Thank you.”

But he said nothing. So she turned and hurried away. Pike was alone in the darkness, with nothing but steel to comfort him. He held up his sword and looked at his face in the steel. “Just as you deserve…” he muttered. He allowed himself to open up doors in his mind that he had kept closed. All those years ago, since that day he had doomed his lover to death, a shadow had dwelt in his heart. He had been able to keep it locked away, in a heart shrouded in ice. But sometimes, he would let it free…

As he stared into the steel, his eyes began to darken. The light of the lamps and torches began to dim until they guttered out to burning embers. Darkness closed in.