I was interrupted in my recording of the events of the siege by yet another blasted meeting. Even during the siege I was plagued by these. Our Dyer, I forget his name, insisted on continuing the meeting I had interrupted in order to help defend our home. It wasn't until he tapped me on the shoulder while we were waiting for the second wave that I turned on him. Blood covered my sword, and much of my armor. I gave him a glare and very quietly said: "I'd take pleasure in guttin' you ... boy.". I don't think he appreciated the sentiment, in fact, I'm sure he didn't. Of course, when someone is covered in blood says that to you the best thing to do is agree with them.
Or run away. Fast.
He didn't bother me until after the siege was over.
From behind the door I could hear the rest of the first group approaching. Harsh laughs and calls to us to come out and play, when they could be understood at all. As soon as they found our rows of traps the cries became more frantic, and primal. And that was when Tosid and I charged out. Apparently a good portion of the crossbow goblins from the first group had either been caught by traps or decimated by them, but at least three remained. I could hear the clack of crossbows through the fortifications which meant that Iton and Thorid were busy trying to stall. There were more goblins coming then. With surprise the goblins looked up to face us as we charged out. Some were busy ensuring they weren't stepping on traps, others milling about in minor confusion. The archers had sense enough to know a target when they saw one, however, and unloaded on the two of us as we sprinted out. A bolt went wide, another was deflected by Tosid's shield. Unfortunately the third caught me in my left hip, penetrating the armor but not deeply. It hurt, but not badly. Swiping my sword down I sheared off the shaft and continued the charge, bringing my sword up in an uppercut at the goblin that had shot me. My sword collided with it, penetrating leather armor and punching through lungs, heart and spine and sticking out the back side. The force of the blow knocked the goblin off my sword again as it went flying to strike the wall behind us. Tosid was making quick work of a second and a quarrel from behind me took the third archer in the arm, spinning him around. Melonius had followed us out to provide support. The half a dozen goblins that were outside our gate we dispatched quickly. Other than the crossbows, none had weapons, but rather tried to wrestle us to the ground. Neither Tosid nor I were having any of that and plenty of severed limbs and fingers attested to that.
The first platoon down we took a slight breather protected by the corner. It had gone eerily silent. Even the crossbows on the other side of the fortification were quiet. I took a moment to look through and all I could see was the tip of Iton's boot lying in a pool of blood, a few shafts from bolts were visible. Thorid was nowhere to be seen, and I hoped that he had retreated.
During this eerie silence a strange thing happened. It was as though the world became muted. The oncoming shouts of goblins seemed dulled and even the pounding of my heart seemed muted to an eerie earthy cadence I could almost hear, but rather felt through the souls of my feet. My heart calmed as I listened to the rhythm of the earth, the pulse of the stones. Tosid and I looked at each other as we sensed the oncoming horde and nodded to each other, a grim acceptance of death to be meted out or received as fate decreed.
We charged, Melonius behind us taking a position to fire from the corner. Silence descended upon me, the only sounds being those of the melody of the earth, the grinding, pulsing, throbbing of the stones beneath me. Until I heard the first sounds of the crossbows being fired. It was then that I realized my part in all of this. I was the counter-point to the earth, the variations of the theme, and the sounds of metal on metal, the echoes and screams of the dying, the snap of bone, metal and spraying blood merely a part of the whole that I was hearing. My trance-like state was complete as the macemaster and I danced a circle around each other, weaving and striking and blocking as needed. My time would come, I could sense it, two measures ahead, then one. As he struck I did too, severing three fingers from his weapon hand, before rolling to one side to dodge the incoming bolts I felt rather than saw. His weapon clattered to the ground and he pulled his stump to himself, but not before my sword darted in again, hissing against the edge of his shield as I took out his other arm at the elbow. A third blow seconds later took out his throat, a fourth ended his notes, a pool of them forming around his still form. Tosid too struck like thunder, like a mighty rending of the earth, scattering the goblins before him. He had won through to the archers and was among their ranks, decimating them with his axe. And though there were but three of us against thirty we fought on. Tosid took a hit to the leg, deflecting the worst of it with his shield, his own blood mixing with that of the enemy on his own armor. I confronted a goblin guard, exchanging strikes, until I saw an opening and took a hit to the side in order to open the goblins defenses. Two quick strikes saw the goblin on the ground, unconcious and bleeding rapidly from large gashes in his torso.
And then after the mighty crescendo of battle the sounds died out, the screams of the enemy ringing clearly in my ears as the goblins beat out a retreat despite their overwhelming numbers. Had they pressed the attack they might have carried the day, but with most of their leaders slain they fled the field of battle and the day was ours. Tosid lifted his helmet and looked at me grimly, clapping me on the shoulder.
"Well fought for a civilian."
I laughed. The two of us walked back into the fortress as the clean-up crews came out. I'd have to thank Melonius for covering us later.
After we had counted the dead and began gathering their things I double checked the numbers. Nearly ten killed in traps. Two had been captured in cages. Tosid had scored thirteen kills. I'd gotten eleven. Melonius had gotten but one direct kill, though three others had been mortally wounded and bled out. We'd lost Iton, one of our marksdwarves and Udil a woodcutter. At least a score of goblins had escaped. But we'd have new defenses in place by next time. I hoped.