Authors: Alexey Pehov
You shall hear the hammer
Set the axhead ringing!
The leafy forest’s cheery throng
Will all break off their jolly song.
All will quake in silent dread
As the graves on every side
Throw their dismal portals wide
To free the restless dead!
Through the battle’s clamorous din
Legions of the dead move in,
A grim and silent throng.
Bearded heroes block their path,
Soldiers unafraid of death,
Fearless, bold, and strong.
Frenzied clash of shield to shield
Forces tempered steel to yield
And mighty swords to crack!
And then the undead host will quake,
Their battle line will shift and break
And they will stagger back.
The spurt and splash of undead blood
Will soak the gnomes’ beards, doing good
To doughty heroes’ fettle.
The argument of ax and hammer
Will ring amid the clamor,
Bracing the whole clan’s mettle.
Though in the end the hand of death
Will still the soldier’s heaving breath,
Whatever future time might bring,
Through winter and through summer
We shall wait here for the hammer
To set the axhead ringing!
Three times Hallas had to break off before he finished a couplet to lean over the side of the ferry and disgorge his breakfast into the water.
“Oh, he’s really going through it, poor soul!” said Uncle, with a sigh of sympathy.
In a while the ferry nudged against the bank and little figures that I could barely recognize as my traveling companions started leading off the horses. One of the figures dropped to the ground and just lay there. I think it was Hallas.
The ferry started moving back toward us.
“Get ready. Arnkh, lead up the horses.”
“Harold, hey, Harold! Will you hold my hand?”
“Kli-Kli, are you being silly again?”
“No, I’m serious! I can’t swim! What if I fall in?”
“Sit in the middle of the ferry, and nothing bad will happen,” I reassured him, still not sure whether the goblin had thought up yet another trick or he really didn’t know how to swim.
“I’m afraid,” Kli-Kli said quite sincerely, sniffing.
The ferry picked up speed moving toward us, and ten minutes later we were leading the remaining horses onto it. The animals were quite calm at the prospect of crossing the river and didn’t balk. They took their places in special stalls, and Uncle let the ferryman know that we were ready to go.
“Put your backs into it!”
The great hulking ferry hands heaved, the drum creaked, and we set off.
The water splashed gently against the sides of the ferry, the planks smelled of duckweed and fish. The willows on the bank gradually drifted away.
“Kli-Kli, what are you doing?” I asked the goblin, who had hung his legs over the edge and was dabbling his feet in the water.
“What am I doing? Trying to overcome my fear of water.”
“And what if you happen to plop in?”
“You’ll catch me,” he said with a carefree grin.
I sat down beside him and started watching the opposite bank approaching slowly but surely. In the middle of the river there was a wind, and the ferry started swaying gently on waves that sprang up out of nowhere.
One of the horses snorted and started whinnying and trying to kick out a wooden partition with its hind hooves.
“Hold her! I’ve got problems enough already!” shouted the ferryman.
Uncle dashed across to reassure the frightened animal. The horse was snorting, rolling its eyes, and trembling. The sergeant’s gentle whispers gradually calmed it down, but it still squinted warily at the water.
The chain clanged, the water splashed, and the riverbank slowly drifted closer.
“Why are they running about like that?” Kli-Kli’s shout of surprise interrupted my contemplation of the black water.
Our comrades were dashing about on the bank, waving their arms and shouting something. They were definitely shouting to us, but at that distance the wind carried their words away, and I couldn’t make anything out.
“I don’t know,” I said, concerned. “Has something happened?”
“It doesn’t look like it…,” Kli-Kli said slowly.
Just then one of the elves drew his bow and shot an arrow in a steep arc in our direction.
“Has he lost his mind?” the jester hissed, watching the flight of the arrow.
“Keep your head down!” I snapped at him, but the arrow sliced through the air above the ferry and fell into the water behind us.
“Hey, what are they up to over there? Have they gone crazy?” Arnkh roared.
“Look! On the other bank!” the jester shouted as he raised his eyes from the water where the arrow had landed to the riverbank that we had recently left.
There was certainly something to look at, and the elf had been right to use such an unusual method of pointing it out. Bustling about on the bank beside the second ferry were almost forty mounted men.
But that wasn’t the worst thing. Moving straight toward us, slowly, implacably, and absolutely silently, was a semitransparent sphere the color of scarlet flame. It hung just slightly above the water and was about the size of a decent barn. Standing on the bank from which our death was approaching I could just make out a female figure, standing motionless with her arms raised in the air.
Lafresa!
“What is
that
?” the ferryman gasped in amazement.
I knew what it was. Kronk-a-Mor. Exactly the same kind of sphere, only ten times smaller, had killed Valder. Neither Kli-Kli’s medallion nor Miralissa’s skills would save us from this magic.
“Off the ferry! Look lively!” I roared, then grabbed the goblin by the scruff of his neck and plunged into the water.
Kli-Kli squealed in surprise and kicked at the air with his legs. I fell awkwardly, with no time to gather myself together—I was in too much of a hurry to get as far away as possible from the doomed ferry.
The water was warm and black. I opened my eyes, but down in the depths I could hardly see a thing. The floundering goblin and I were surrounded by specks of drifting sediment and hundreds of little bubbles.
I struck out as hard as I could with my free arm and my legs, trying to get as deep under the water as possible. Kli-Kli struggled and panicked, like a rabbit in a noose. I saw his eyes, gaping wide in terror, and the bubbles escaping from his mouth, but I kept moving deeper and deeper, without worrying about the goblin. I just hoped he had enough air to last until we surfaced.
Boo-oo-oom!
The shock of the explosion struck my ears, for a moment everything went dark and I was completely disoriented, not knowing which way was up and which way was down … The glimmering ceiling of light above my head showed me that I was moving in the right direction.
A stroke with my free hand, a hard thrust with my legs, another stroke, another thrust. I seemed to be stuck in one spot, making no progress at all toward the blessed air. When the surface of the water finally parted above my head, Kli-Kli had almost stopped moving, but as soon as he took a breath in, he started coughing and thrashing about even more violently.
“I don’t know how to drown! I don’t know how to drown!” the goblin squeaked, getting his words confused.
“Stop struggling!” I shouted. “You’ll drown both of us! Stop it! Do you hear!”
That had no effect on the jester at all, and I ducked him under the water for a few moments. When I lifted his head back above the water, Kli-Kli coughed, spat, and spouted foul abuse.
“Stop struggling! Or I’ll let go of you! Do you hear me, you idiot?”
“Ghghabool! Yes! I hear you!”
“Relax! I’m holding you, you won’t drown! Just relax, lie on the water, and breathe!”
He gurgled to let me know he had understood.
I looked around. All that was left of the ferry was a memory and scraps of wood scattered across the river. A few especially large beams were still burning and the air was filled with the smell of smoke and soot. I could see the head of someone who was swimming about forty yards away from us, but I couldn’t tell who it was. One other person had survived, then.… But what about the others?
This isn’t the moment to mourn our losses, Harold! You have to get out of the water. It was a fair distance to the bank, but I had to make it if I didn’t want to feed the fishes on the bottom. I could see people swimming to help us, but it would take them a long time to cover the distance.
I set off. Stroking smoothly through the water, counting every stroke and trying to breathe as regularly as possible.
“One! Two! Three!”
I don’t know how many times I repeated that “One! Two! Three!” It was certainly a lot of times. All I could see was the splashing water, the pitiless sky, and the thin, distant line of the bank.
I’ll make it! No you won’t! Yes I will!
One! Two! Three!
Just a little farther! Just a little bit more!
One! Two! Three!
Kli-Kli was an impossible burden, weighing down my arm; and my boots, clothes, crossbow, knife, and bag were dragging me to the bottom, too. I ought to have dumped my weapon, but I’d rather have abandoned the jester than my equipment.
Of course, what I just said wasn’t true—I’m not the kind of swine who would drown a helpless goblin, but you can’t just abandon your only weapon.
My boots had filled with water and were pulling me down. There was no way I could get rid of them—they were laced on, and I’m no acrobat or conjurer, I couldn’t unfasten them with just one hand—it wasn’t even worth trying. It was a real stroke of luck that I’d taken off my cloak. It was lost forever now, but at least it wasn’t winding round my legs and dragging me down to the bottom.
After about fifty strokes, I realized that I wouldn’t get very far with a load like this. If help didn’t reach us, Kli-Kli and I would be glugging our final farewells as we sank under the water forever.
My arms and legs felt like they were made of lead, my strokes were getting weaker and weaker. It was hard to breathe. Often all I could see ahead was black water, with only an occasional glimpse of the edge of the blue sky above it.
I was hanging on, just to avoid sinking straightaway. I’d swallowed a lot of water and my mind was clouded.
But the riverbank—that vague, blurred line—was still a very long way off.…
“Kli-Kli,” I gasped hoarsely. “Try to get your boots off!”
“I’ve done that!”
Well done, goblin!
“Then … why … are you … so heavy?”
“The chain mail…”
Darkness! That’s what was pulling him down! The little shit had covered himself with chain mail!
“Kli … Kli … I’ll … kill … you.”
“Only … when we get … ashore! Please!”
Ashore! I’ll never reach that cursed shore!
One! Two! Three! And again! And just a few more!
My clothes were pulling me down more and more heavily, I was putting my last ounces of strength into my strokes, everything was dark in front of my eyes, there was a ringing sound in my ears, and the arm holding Kli-Kli felt like it would fall off at any moment. I sank under the water three times, and three times, with an absolutely immense effort, I struggled back to the surface for at least one more gulp of air.…