Chapter 6
It was nearing dawn as Durza looked down at the Guardian's encampment. He thought of how it would feel to destroy this band of warriors. He enjoyed fighting Edhellhach; it was a challenge. Maybe he would let him live, until he could break him. There was also something interesting in the idea of Urgals as warriors, Durza admitted. He would look into it after he dealt with this insurrection at dawn. It would be a bloody morning.
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It had been nearly two days since Edhellhach had left, and Ohtar's instincts were telling him that they would soon be attacked. Before dawn broke, he awoke his now quarter-thousand strong force. He wanted to be able to make camp farther north at the end of the day, and they would need several hours to make camp at dusk. Just as he ordered the men to pack up camp he noticed the sun rise. Scarlet was painted across the sky – a sign of death and rainstorms. Neither were beneficial to the Guardians. A shout burst from the south, a large group of Imperial soldiers stood at the edge of the clearing of the camp. As the Guardians turned to face the Imperials, Ohtar sent out a mental shout to his soldiers. Take over the minds of their rear guard, so we can trap them in a pincer attack! As the soldiers began to batter down the defenses of the Imperials, Ohtar felt a powerful mind grapple with his. His eyes widened in horror. Durza was with the enemy!
As Ohtar solidified his defenses, he was grateful for the times he had practiced with Edhellhach. After a minute of grappling with Durza, Ohtar realized that he wouldn't be able to hold his own for much longer, and he called some of his men to join their minds withhis inwrestling against Durza. The two forces surged – Ohtar and a score of his lieutenants against Durza and the spirits that resided within him. No group could gain an advantage over the other, and Durza let a terrifying, animal-like cry. Ohtar responded with a cry of his own. "Charge!" His bellow echoed across the field.
As the two forces charged towards each other, the Guardians' force of over two hundred against the Empire's thousand, odds of five-to-one. With a thunderous roar, the groups met each other. Swords clashed together and men fell in droves. For several minutes it seemed the Guardians would be able withstand the original charge of the Empire, but they were quickly surrounded. Durza was at the head of the Empire's forces, his dreaded figure cutting down men left and right. Ohtar was the Champion of the Guardians, however, and when the two faced each other, all else seemed to stop.
Who would win? A man, victor of many battles, with a determination only to be overshadowed by Stronghammer himself in years to come? Or the dark Shade, a creature of the dark that few had faced and lived to tell the tale? Before they could duel each other, the Empire's forces suddenly started being cut down from behind, and Durza roared in indignation before whirling to face the new threat, his own soldiers. The Guardians would win after all, with the Empire's forces boxed in between their own and the Guardians. There was no way the Empire would win. Durza would not suffer the Guardians to win.
"Garjazla!" A wave of light erupted from Durza, toppling all but a few soldiers.
When Durza turned around, Ohtar ran towards Durza, as his heart thundered in his chest and sweat dripped down from his hair. Ohtar hoped to stab the Shade through the back before he could slaughter the Guardians. "Letta!" Durza spat the word in disgust, shaking his head at the cowardice of the so-called Champion. As Durza lifted his blade to run Ohtar through, arrows sprouted from Durza's chest, causing Durza's blade missed its intended target. Instead, the slender blade slashed through Ohtar's side, leaving a large gushing wound. A lone Kull stood not far away, bow drawn, another arrow nocked. Durza merely chuckled, and ripped the arrows from his armor, showing no signs of pain or discomfort.
Durza laughed, "Good of you to join us, Garzhvog." A word from Durza and the Kull flew back, snapping a tree in two.
Ohtar grimly took note of his surroundings. His men were struggling to stand after Durza knocked them down with a spell. Nar Garzhvog was unconscious and his men had lost their hold on the Empire's rear guard. Durza stood over him, ready to end him with one swift movement. It was in this moment, when all hope had failed, that Ohtar took up his sword, and stabbed Durza. As he did, he realized he had missed Durza's heart, but injured Durza enough to make him disappear into thin air with a cruel grin. Ohtar could only hope he would be gone for a long while.
As the soldiers staggered up, they surveyed the damage. Durza was gone, and Ohtar wielded the blade that made it so. Despite the Imperial forces larger numbers, they had been reduced to a few hundred and plead for Ohtar's mercy. He stood and made them swear loyalty to the leader of the Guardians of the Spine.
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After the end of the battle, the Guardians numbered almost seven hundred strong – one hundred and fifty of which were part of the original Guardian force. Ohtar and his men were in the process of repairing their camp when Edhellhach arrived. Their leader returned appearing joyful and majestic, though Ohtar appeared tired and almost haggard.
Edhellhach spoke first, raising an eyebrow. "I see you have over tripled our forces in a few days." Ohtar merely looked up and nodded. Edhellhach disregarded his unusual silence and continued. "We have to move our camp further northward, towards Utgard."
Ohtar now stood, his face red with outrage. "We have all been sworn into your service against our will, fought many battles for you, died for you, faced that monster Durza for you, and now you want us to move northward, when winter is nearing?" Ohtar's voice grew in volume. "You were not there when Durza ambushed us, you came when he nearly defeated us, you weren't there to fight Durza's army, I was, and I won the battle, despite five-to-one odds! And yet you have the nerve to order us around like your servants!"
Edhellhach's eyes narrowed dangerously and took two large strides toward his captain. His voice was level and calm when he spoke, despite his cold anger. "If you wish to challenge me for the leadership of the Guardians, then do so. If you don't, hold your tongue. I shall pardon you as it is evident that you have survived a terrible ordeal, but I will not forget how you have spoken to me."