We fly low over the forests of the enemy. The moon is bright tonight. We would be easy targets if we flew at cloud level. The journey is uneventful and I spend the time thinking over each stage of the mission, adapting strategies to engage the enemy, depending on what we encounter on the ground. When, finally, we fly over the hills and down into the Savernake Valley, I turn to indicate for the mission to slow, but the horde already have their griffin beating time in the air, and Raylee is in position. Her griffin hangs in the air alongside one of the taller firs of the valley. Raylee stands on her saddle and leaps across the night to catch hold of the top of the tree. The ostentatiousness of the move irritates me; she could have stepped across just as easily and far more safely. Once she has secured her footing, she holds her hand out to us, and we all dismount onto the night air.
Raylee’s power cradles me. It feels as if my entire body is held in a harness. Beneath me, my feet move gently in the forest breeze. Sharv grins as he hovers in the air beside me. The horde merely hang impassively, awaiting the order to engage. At the top of her tree, Raylee gestures downwards, and silently we descend. The soft branches of the firs brush against my face as I slowly drift to the ground. The smell of the trees is pungent and intense. Whenever I am across enemy lines, I am shocked by the strength of the smell of nature, compared to the arid soil back home.
We land almost silently on the forest floor, dry leaves crunching quietly beneath our boots. I have no idea what we will expect. The presence of the three giant hornets that almost flung me from Aetos last night, suggest that there is significant military presence here, but we have no idea of the full extent of it. The plan is to follow the river up the valley. Any military encampments are likely to be located by water and the sound of the river itself should provide cover. After only a few miles tracing the river, we arrive at a chain-link fence. It’s at least eight feet high; climbing over it is out of the question, the noise will alert the entire valley to our presence. The fence does not extend over the river, so we could wade around it, but we’ll be at a significant disadvantage if we’re discovered whilst waist deep in water. Raylee joins me at my side, silently gestures that we should go over it. That will get us into the enemy’s encampment, but Raylee herself will be left behind. I communicate this by pointing at her and raising an eyebrow, and she indicates that she will follow through the river.
I nod and she slips under the low branches of a tree and places her hand on its thick trunk. I feel the now familiar sensation of being lifted from the ground. Sharv, the horde and I float over the barbs on the top of the fence. For one chilling moment, we are completely exposed by moonlight, I glimpse a meadow with tents huddled together, and then we are descending to the soft earth on the other side. Whilst we wait for Raylee, I consider what I saw from the top of the fence. Whatever we are looking for, however the enemy journeys to this Land of Smoke and Oil, it is unlikely to be found within a temporary encampment. If it were possible to move it, why not simply transport it deeper into their own territory?
When Raylee rejoins us, her armour wet from the river, I indicate for us to press on beyond the enemy’s camp. We encounter elves in pairs and threes, drinking, smoking, playing games with cards I do not recognise. This may be a military encampment, but they are deep within their own land and are clearly not expecting an incursion. This is all to our advantage as we silently move around them. I become overconfident as we skirt around three elves in fatigues sitting by the river. They are unarmed, in shirt sleeves, sipping from small bottles and idly lobbing stones into the fast-moving water.
As we pass them, I hear a stream of water hitting leaves. It takes me a second to register what I am hearing, and in that moment, I almost walk into the elf, who has slipped into the woods to relieve himself. We stare at each other, him with his flies open, one hand on his manhood. His eyes are wide with startled incomprehension. He is not expecting to encounter the enemy here. I am about to reach for his throat, when there is faint whistle of metal through air. The elf stumbles backwaters, letting go of his dick, which sprays his fatigues with his own piss. And then he is flat on his back, the hilt of a goblin blade protruding from his heart. The Chieftain of the horde moves past me, crouches over the dying elf, covers the enemy’s mouth with his hand and swiftly removes the blade it threw, allowing the blood to run freely from his heart. The Chieftain waits patiently for the elf to die. When he is convinced that there is no danger of the elf making a sound, he nods to two of the horde, who pick up the elf’s corpse between them and carry it to some dense bushes. The Chieftain pauses in front of me and bows, honoured to have been of service to the family.
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This is why I insist on goblins being part of the mission.
Now the mission is an hourglass, and the sand is falling freely. The dead elf’s friends are not on alert, they’re intoxicated and may not be worried if their comrade does not immediately return, but nonetheless we cannot guarantee that it’s body won’t be discovered. I make a hand signal to the others to double our speed.
A dirt road has been carved out from the forest. We move alongside it under the cover of the trees. Occasionally we see the enemy in their horseless wagons that growl and fill the air with the tang of acrid smoke. The bright lights of their machines flare between the trees, causing us to drop into the undergrowth. The further we travel, the more of the metal wagons we see, like giant woodlice scurrying through the woodland. We must be moving closer to our destination. This is confirmed when lights poke through the trees. I indicate for the mission to hang back and I advance alone. The lights are stationed on tall poles and flood the area at the base of a hill that has been cleared of trees. There are dark green tents, more of the metal wagons parked in regimented lines. And beyond them - at the base of a rocky, vertical hill - a tunnel that a dragon could fly through. The entrance has been reinforced with wooden pillars. It reminds me of a mine, and it may be one for all I know, but this must be our target. When the elf that Old Cadoc brought back from the dead broke its oath, this must be what it had sworn to keep secret. The way to the Land of Oil and Smoke.
I assess the enemy’s position. There are at least two dozen soldiers, each armed with the dark metal rods that spit invisible projectiles. Our only advantage is they are not expecting us. Many of the elven soldiers are not bothering to wear their helmets, several of them have left their weapons leaning against the metal wagons. Whilst the enemy outnumber us, they have no aerial support. Wherever those three giant hornets flew last night, they have not returned. There are no ground defences either. Nothing that could knock a griffin out of the sky. I slip back to the mission, who are crouched together in the forest. Sharv is whispering to Raylee. Whatever he is saying, it’s making her blush and giggle. They are no mature enough for this, although she has the excuse of adolescence. He, on the other hand, is a danger to the success of the mission.
I scratch out the enemy’s position with a stick in the dirt and whisper the strategy. The chieftain evaluates the sacrifice I am asking of the horde, looks me in the eye and bows, honoured as aways. He leads the horde away. I watch them move silently through the undergrowth, grey shadows against the trees. I don’t have to worry about them; Raylee and Sharv are a different story. I lead them to the edge of the trees and indicate for them to take positions. I can’t rely on Sharv in hand-to-hand combat, but he is a competent archer, and the cover of the trees should embolden him. Raylee crouches behind the trunk of a fir, hiding from the glare of the lights in the clearing. I move up to a mature tree that looks onto the clearing and wait for the Chieftain to make his move.
I don’t have to wait long. A high-pitched wail cuts through the night, rising and falling. I’ve never heard such a sound before. It is neither the call of bird or beast, nor is it the peal of a bell, but I am in no doubt that the strange alarm is in response to the goblins’ assault. I hold my breath as I wait for the elves in front of me to react. For a moment, there is confusion, but shortly afterwards, a consensus is reached and they grab their weapons and head off in the direction of the alarm. The hordes’ diversion has worked; the tunnel is abandoned by all but two elves. The odds are in our favour. One of the elves is taller, a female in full battle fatigues, one of their long weapons slung over her shoulder. The other is male, young and muscular. We need to disable him first. I nod to Sharv and he slips a bow from his quiver and takes aim. Raylee meets my gaze, exhales and then nods her readiness. I give a hand signal to Sharv and he lets the arrow fly.
His aim is good. Not great, but good enough. It thuds into the male elf’s broad shoulder, spinning him backwards and sending him sprawling to the ground. I don’t have to worry about him for the next few seconds, but he’s a soldier, he can come back from a flesh wound. I break from the cover of the trees and take a running leap into the air. Immediately, I feel Raylee’s power beneath my legs, lifting me higher, pushing me forward through the air. As I reach the height of the lamps on poles, their white light blazes in my vision, blinding me as I hurtle across the clearing towards my target.
