The Chronicles of the Troop – Book Tour and Giveaway

“Run, Mikey! Run!”

“I am Donnor, ya’ daft fool! Don’t ya’ be waitin’ on me.”

Mr. Gemhands’ little dwarven legs moved as fast as they could while Donnor yanked on Tommy’s arm to get him to run faster.

“Tommy, don’t look back,” his da’ urged looking behind them. There was a terrible scream. “Keep running! Mikey, run for the boat!”

Tommy’s da’ and Mr. Gemhands had always been friends; the men called him Mikus, but only his da’ called him Mikey. Mikus was the village’s woodcutter, and the two families were so close that Mr. Gemhands’ son Dawd and Tommy were basically brothers.

Tommy and Dawd had been delivering wood this morning; going back and forth through the village, taking what Mr. Gemhands had cut from house to house. They’d been having a wonderful day, finally able to do the job on their own as men since Tommy’s eighteenth birthday a few weeks before.

That is, until the fires started.

There’d been a strange whistling sound coming from the path to Torensdell, followed by terrified cries of “FIRE” from around the village. While they had been wondering what was going on, a tremendous noise exploded from countless throats.

The sound started low, then climbed in pitch until it painfully pierced their ears. WhooOOP! Then the first snarling ondilaan warriors came rushing in from the forest around the path, accompanied by their uncanny laughter. HEHEHE! HEHEHE!

The calls of the ondilaan were more frightening than even the tales Tommy had heard. Hairs stood up on the back of his neck as they scrambled away from the terrible creatures. Sprinting for Dawd’s house in utter panic, they were sure they could find safety there. But they only found the ondilaan instead.

A warrior had Dawd’s mum cornered in the kitchen as Tommy rushed through the door. Dawd screamed and attacked it, grabbing his father’s dagger from the stand beside the door. A predatory glance followed by a chuff of contempt encompassed the totality of the ondilaan’s reaction. Then Dawd died, split in two by the casual swing of its huge double-bladed axe.

His falling body sprayed Tommy’s face with thick sticky blood and bits of gore, shocking him into paralysis. He watched in horror as Mrs. Gemhands jumped onto the warrior’s back, wailing with grief and loathing. Grabbing onto its mane in her fury, she uselessly beat her fists on its back.

It threw her off with contemptuous ease. Then lunging down, it tore out her throat with its gaping jaws as she futilely tried to push it away. Bekka gurgled out one final gasp just as Mr. Gemhands and his da’ burst through the door.

Tommy spun towards Mr. Gemhand’s horrified cry. With barely a pause, they fearlessly threw themselves at the creature, their knives already drawn. The warrior whipped its head around, yellow eyes widening in surprise as it tried to meet their charge. Dodging multiple swipes from its axe, they killed it, blood flying from their knives like rain. They stabbed it over and over again until it fell, collapsing on top of Dawd’s mum.

“Tommy! Where’s Dawd?” his da’ yelled.

Tommy pointed one shaking finger off to the side at the remains of his body.

Donnor took in what was left of Dawd with a single glance. “Mikey, grab the axe! We gotta move! Let’s go!” He grabbed Tommy by the shoulder and shoved him towards the door.

Mr. Gemhands heaved the ondilaan’s spotted corpse off his wife. Bending over her, he desperately tried to stop the flow of blood as the last bits of life drained from Bekka’s eyes. He looked up at Donnor’s shout, the shock of the death of his wife and son written clearly across his face in horror and pain.

“Mikus! We are leaving!” Donnor screamed as he grabbed Mikus by the collar and dragged him to his feet. “Get to the boat!”

Mr. Gemhands let out a single, strangled sob as they ran from his home. Tears streamed down his face disappearing into his thick black beard. They made streaks in the spots of blood and soot as they fell, turning his countenance into something primal and grim.

Lakeside was burning. Flames roared to Tommy’s left and right, the sight of them filling him with dread. Clouds of thick black smoke choked the village as screams filled the air. Villagers were running every which way in the ensuing chaos trying to escape. Some ran towards the forest, others towards the shores of the inland sea the village sat on.

As he ran by Mrs. Sweetflour’s house, another warrior burst from her door, tackling his da’ to the ground. Donnor managed to shove Tommy out of the way of its grasping claws as he fell, slashing out with his knife and blooding it in the process. Then Mikus struck, severing one of its legs at the knee and spraying the house with blood as it howled in pain.

“Go! I got this ya’ fool!” Mikus growled as he furiously buried the axe in the ondilaan’s head. “Ye canna’ fight wi’ only a knife! Go!”

“Mikus, we need to get to the Hold! This isn’t the time to do anything stupid!” his da’ insisted, grabbing his arm.

“I’ll no be makin’ my stand here,” Mikus replied with a growl. “Get ta’ yer’ boat! I be comin’,” he said as he pulled the axe out of the downed warrior. He set himself, turning back to face the way they had come.

“We’ll be waiting for you, old man!” Donnor grabbed Tommy, pulling him along behind him as they scrambled away. “Get to the boat!”

The haunting calls of the ondilaan could be heard over the fire and screams as they turned the corner and lost sight of Mikus. WhooOOP! HEHEHE! HEHEHE! sounded over and over again getting louder the further they ran. They scrambled past another house, dodging the flames shooting out of its windows as his da’ sprinted off.

He said we needed to get to Redtail Hold on the other side of the Serensea! That they’ll protect us there … I hope so … I can’t run as fast as he can!

“Da’, wait up!” Tommy yelled as they continued their frantic sprint towards the boat.

A huge crash thundered from behind them as they rounded another corner. Donnor’s head whipped around as Tommy flinched and started to trip, causing his brown hair to fling to the side. He reached out and caught Tommy’s arm, holding him up as he got his feet back under him.

Snarling and crunching came from back around the corner, followed by someone letting out a blood-curdling cry. The horrible sounds of that screaming villager spurred them on even faster.

“Help! Di’ii! My baby!” Ari screamed in terror.

Donnor dove and tackled the elven woman to the ground as her shop collapsed with a tremendous crash. His da’ rolled to shelter Ari with his body as a huge cloud of smoke and embers billowed out behind them. The chasing ondilaani warriors quickly jumped back as burning debris flew everywhere.

“Die, ya’ bastards!” Mikus screamed as he came into sight again, charging them.

Mr. Gemhands began chanting something in dwarvish Tommy’d never heard. Mikus’s chant could be heard through the smoke, accompanied by the sounds of fighting. The growls and screams of the ondilaan accented the battle taking place.

“Ari! You’ve got to run!” Donnor yelled, trying to get her attention.

His da’ wrestled with her, struggling to keep her from running back into the burning remains of her shop. Ari fought back, almost throwing him off in an amazing display of maternal strength as the screams around them got louder, and the calls of the ondilaan got closer.

“Ari! We’ve got to go!”

Mr. Gemhands emerged from a swirl of smoke without his axe, snarling and speckled with embers. He grabbed Ari by the belt and simply started dragging her away. Donnor caught one flailing arm; the other stretched out desperately behind her, grasping towards the collapsed shop.

“Di’ii!” She screamed, as a burst of flame shot from the structure.

“Mikey! The boat!”

“Aye, I know,” Mr. Gemhands shouted as he continued dragging Ari away.

Tommy grabbed Ari’s other hand as they hauled her forward while the cackling calls of the ondilaan closed in from every direction. She cried, and in between her sobs she babbled in a language he’d never before heard.

Ari had arrived in the village barely a year ago and was the village seamstress. Everyone liked her, even the animals, and she’d just given birth to the elfling she’d named Di’ii. The village women doted on the adorable baby girl, and Ari had even been letting him hold her. But Tommy still remembered Mum and Da’ arguing the day she arrived, and neither of them would tell him why.

Mr. Gemhands started chanting under his breath in time with his running feet as they dashed madly through the streets. Not a spell; no one in the village had magic. It was just the dwarvish chant he always did while working, though this time there were quite a few strange and angry words Tommy didn’t know mixed in.

Another loud crash sounded behind them and they struggled to get Ari up on her feet.

“Tommy, run ahead. Go untie the boat!” His da’ struggled to gather her up in his arms while Tommy sprinted away.

People were just jumping into the Serensea in utter panic as Tommy ran by. Screams from behind him spurred him onward as images of horror invaded his mind. Tommy’s breath came in short quick gasps; his pulse, pounding in his head.

Finally, he thought as their boat came into sight tied up at the end of the plank they used as a pier.

Tommy leapt into the boat as another scream sounded and yanked on the line, causing the bow knot to fall apart. The boat next to theirs was on fire, and he pulled a flaming arrow out of their own as he ran by. He’d just untied the aft line as Da’ and Mr. Gemhands threw Ari into the boat and clambered on board.

“Everyone grab a pole and push!” Donnor yelled.

Tommy grabbed and heaved, the three of them pushing as hard as they could to get their vessel away from shore. Tommy’s hands shook in fear as he leaned his weight into the pole, and they ever so slowly started to move.

Another house collapsed somewhere close by, accompanied by another massive cloud of ash and smoke billowing up into the air. A loud rising whooOOP sounded seemingly in jubilation at its echoing crash. The shadowy figures of the ondilaan could be seen stalking here and there through the smoke, hunting what was left of their people.

They poled faster.

Tommy looked back towards his house and found it completely engulfed in flames. Movement nearby caught his attention, and he noticed Mrs. Sweetflour back at her house doing something strange. She was sprawled halfway out of her window on her stomach, her arms draped limply towards the ground. Her whole body moving up and down almost as if she was trying to lift something up from outside over, and over, again.

What is she doing? Her house is on fire!

Flames shot out of the windows of her house as Tommy looked on. Horrified, he watched as they started billowing out of the one she was hanging out of too.

Her back is on fire! Why didn’t she get out of her house!

They poled even faster.

“Tommy, raise the sail!” Donnor yelled.

He dropped his pole, looking at his da’ in disbelief, then quickly tried to catch it before it fell overboard. Tommy’d never raised the sail alone before. No one did; it was a two-man job! Sure, you could do it, but the mast was almost as tall as five men, and the yard and sail were heavy.

“Don’t worry about the damn pole! Raise the sail!” Donnor barked.

Da’ never swore!

The simple fact that he had broke through Tommy’s shock as he whipped his head around. Donnor and Mr. Gemhands were red in the face, veins sticking out as they continued to push, slowly moving the boat further and further away from shore. They were still only a stone’s throw away as the first of the ondilaan started rushing onto the bank.

Tommy’s hands shook as he scrambled aft towards the sail. He ripped loose the ties, freeing the yard from its rest, and started hauling the line. Thick smoke washed over them, and he couldn’t see the sail anymore, but it didn’t matter. He kept desperately hauling the line, the ties falling into the water in his haste as he coughed and hacked from the smoke entering his lungs.

Donnor swore over and over again as they struggled poling the boat. Then Mr. Gemhands grunted, and his voice started to sound strained as his chant dwindled off.

The smoke cleared and Tommy could see they were now about an arrow’s shot from shore. Terrified people were jumping into the lake, water spraying everywhere in their desperation to get away. He caught sight of the other boats, all on fire except for their own.

“Swim! Swim!” Ari yelled to someone in the water as she leaned over the side of the boat. Tears were streaming from her eyes in a river of fear for whoever it was.

Panic pounded on Tommy, but he shoved it down and just kept desperately hauling his line. I have to make Da’ proud, he thought, before catching sight of the newest horror to invade his mind.

The ondilaani warriors swarming onto the bank were rushing those who weren’t fast enough to escape. There were people on their knees begging for mercy.

And they were slaughtering them.

Why did they kill Mrs. Laften? She was the village baker; made the best cakes and sweets in the village! She’d never hurt a fly!

Now there was a dagger in her eye. Her body strewn on the ground under the paw of one of the ondilaan’s dog-like legs as it looked around with baleful eyes. That terrible warrior lifted its head towards the sky and let out a huge whooOOP! Its call made the long scars on its face stand out, before it was hidden by another cloud of black smoke.

The line abruptly jolted to a stop in Tommy’s hand. “Da’! The sail’s up!” he yelled as he rushed to tie it fast to the rail in the stern.

The triangular sail that had been luffing aimlessly suddenly caught a powerful gust of the morning breeze and snapped taut. Billowing full, the sail heeled the boat over and sent the mast swinging wildly to the side.

“Look out!” Tommy shouted as he struggled to control the line. He tried to tie it to the rail as it was being pulled through his hands, but the rope was moving too fast.

Ari was leaning over the side of the boat holding a pole stretched out into the water. Her head whipped around at Tommy’s cry; her eyes wide as she ducked away from the swinging mast, almost sending her tumbling into the ‘sea.

He forced himself to grab ahold of the line, burning his hands as he finally got control and cinched it to the rail. They started picking up speed as Ari struggled to stay aboard, grasping for the rail with one hand as she fought not to fall overboard.

Tommy threw himself forward, grabbing onto the back of her dress, scrambling to pull her back in. The tiller he’d left unmanned in his haste banged over, the boat turning itself back towards the village, moving closer and running parallel to shore. And as the boat became level again, he pulled Ari back from the brink.

Where’s Mr. Gemhands? Tommy thought as Ari collapsed on the deck. He whipped his head around remembering the grunt, worried he’d gone overboard too. Then after noticing him at the foot of the mast, he was filled with fear.

Mr. Gemhands sat slumped there with an arrow sticking out of his chest. Donnor threw his pole into the bottom of the boat and swiftly knelt by his side. Blood leaked down Mr. Gemhands chest as he mumbled to himself in dwarven; his da’ hurriedly inspecting the wound.

A noise drew Tommy’s attention: Ari was pulling someone through the water by the pole in her hands. Looking past her, he could see even more people in the Serensea, frantically swimming towards their boat. Their boat was just a fishing boat; it normally only held two or three people and their catch. There were dozens swimming towards them!

“Da’, where’s Mum?” Tommy yelled, searching the swimmers for her golden hair.

“I don’t know, Tommy. We need to get as many people out of the water as we can!”

“But, Da’!”

“We don’t have time! Man the tiller, I need you to guide us. Keep us running along the shore, but don’t bring us any closer! Then set two points starboard of Rocky Point. That’ll get us to Redtail. And don’t stop for anything!” Donnor shouted as he turned away rushing back to the bow beside Ari.

Arrows were now landing around the people swimming in the ‘sea. Nasty black fletched things that whistled as they flew, shrieking like a hawk, and striking their people indiscriminately as they fell. And their people were screaming for help, their cries echoing sharply over the water, but they were too far away.

Tommy held the tiller in a white-knuckled grip as tears of frustration streamed down his face. He desperately wanted to help them, but his da’ said to hold their course, and not to stop. Donnor and Ari fished Mr. Geller, Mr. Silvertongue, Mrs. Greentree, her son Faltor, and finally Sella the barmaid out of the Serensea. Then Tommy slowly started turning away from sailing along shore and set his course heading north, towards Redtail.

Glancing back, Tommy caught sight of the people they’d left behind. He could hear them pleading for him to stop; but they were too far off course. They were swimming with all they had as arrows rained down, but the breeze was too strong, and their boat was too fast.

Rivers of tears ran down his face as he finished his turn, taking their people from sight. He imagined the horrors they’d left behind. He couldn’t see them anymore, the ones they’d left behind, but he knew their voices.

And those voices haunted him.

A new sound tormented him as they sped further away. Tommy started to hear what sounded like begging followed by crunching. And a strange noise that sounded like when old Mr. Hart gargled his medicine came from time to time.

He didn’t like those sounds. He didn’t want to know what they were; his gut clenching as he listened. The harsh cackling laughter of the ondilaan was sending shivers up and down his spine as the screams and cries of their fellow villagers were slowly being swept away.

Tommy wanted to fight, he wanted to hurt the ondilaan for what they had done. But he was no warrior; he was just a fisherman’s son. What can I possibly do? The feelings of sorrow, frustration, and inadequacy that churned inside him were a chaotic whirlwind of emotions. But he forced himself to stand there against the tempest, planted like the mast, and steer them true.

Crying came from all around him in the boat and he wanted to help, but his da’ and Ari were caring for them. His da’ had told Tommy what he needed him to do. He had to guide them. No matter what happened he’d steer them true so his da’ could help the few that survived.

I won’t let him down.

Ari rushed back, hugging Tommy, babbling away in her beautiful tongue. She stared up into his face with those tear-flooded eyes, desperately trying to convey something, some meaning, in her panic.

That made it harder.

But Tommy blinked away his tears, clenched his jaw, and forced his gaze ahead. He refused to look at her while fighting the tightness in his chest and the burning of his injured hands. He forced down the sorrow, locking it away, and concentrated only on their course as they sailed away.

The screams of the villagers and the whistling of the arrows faded away behind them.

I won’t let them down.