An Ancient Truth
Copyright© 2026 by Asa Strong
Chapter 3
I had thought that we would have more time to prepare ourselves for the orcs. As I looked at Saraid with worry clearly etched upon her face, I now knew that there was no time left. The orcs had to be out in force.
I broke myself from the dark thoughts in my mind, and then asked, “Where is Gait?”
Saraid settled herself, and then answered, “He is fighting with the elves. They are trying to slow the orcs so that the children and elders can escape.”
“There is not much else he could do,” I thought to myself.
“What route are the elf children and elders taking?” I asked next.
“They’re following the same route we took to reach Elfhome. There is nowhere else to move, except to the south.”
I nodded, that made sense. I only hoped that the elves could check the orc advance and still remain a viable force. I thought for a moment, and then said, “OK, Saraid, you, Dan’ar, and Jarraid find the elf elders and children. Torg and I will go to see if we can help Emor. Hopefully, we will be able to catch up with you this evening.”
“I belong with you, fighting orcs!” Dan’ar complained.
“Dan’ar, please! If this is a full orc invasion, I will need you to make your way to your people and inform them. You can’t do that if you are fighting alongside me. Also, take Jarraid with you. He can represent the elves and you can represent the dwarfs. Move quickly, I fear that if the orcs catch the elves on the open plain, there will be no way to contain them. You must ask the dwarfs to meet us as soon as possible and be prepared to stop the orcs.”
Dan’ar wasn’t pleased with my answer, but I could see that he also couldn’t argue with it either. He nodded his head in acquiescence.
Torg and I headed west, following Saraid’s back trail, while the rest of the troop headed towards the south and west; hopefully to intercept the fleeing elves.
Torg and I heard the sounds of battle long before we came upon the battlefield. Through the forest to the northwest, we could hear the clash of swords and cries of battle.
We were met by a retreating group of archers as we entered a small glade. The leader of the group quickly informed us that they had been ordered by Emor to form ranks on the south side of the glade and then cover the rest of the retreating elves.
Not knowing precisely where Emor or Gait were located, Torg and I decided it would be best to wait here until the rest of the elf army arrived. It was not a long wait; soon the advance elements of the retreating elves were streaming through the small glade. They took up a defensive position alongside the remainder of the elves. Soon, the main group of the army spewed forth from the opposite side of the glen. Finally, I spied Emor quickly making his way towards where we were waiting.
Through the trees I could still hear the screaming of horses and the ring of steel. Shortly thereafter, a group of a few hundred mounted elves burst from the far side of the glade. Gait was following in the rear, clearly visible on his charger.
Emor must have spied Torg and me, since he changed direction and quickly made his way to us.
“Donta, we cannot turn them; there are just too many.” He said, between gasps for air. Clearly, he had been fighting for quite a while and was exhausted.
“Do you know how many there are?” I asked.
He shook his head, “No, but they seemed endless. For every one of them we kill, three seem to appear in its place. There must be many thousands of the vile creatures.”
He paused for a moment, and then said, “We need to give them cause to pause. If we don’t hold them off till nighttime, all will be lost.”
“You have a plan, I take it?”
He nodded his head. “I and two hundred of the eldest will hold here. My son, Ceneal will lead the others south. Hopefully, we can stop them long enough so that they cannot reach those that are in retreat.”
Torg, who had stood quietly throughout the discussion, walked up and placed his huge hand on Emor’s shoulder. “May the Gods greet you and those brave enough to stand with you.”
Torg then turned and walked quickly away.
I started to say something to Emor, but he shook his head. “No, Donta, it is the only way.”
He then straightened up, took a fresh grip on his bow, and said, “If we stop them, and the rest escape, sing the song of our last stand! Others should know of the price we pay here.” He then turned and walked back towards the front of the battle line.
I turned to find Gait standing behind me. He must have been there long enough to hear what Emor had said; there were tears in his eyes. He shook his head and then asked, “Donta, what do we do?”
In a soft voice, I answered, “We make sure that the sacrifice of Emor and those who stand with him is not squandered.”
As Gait and I stood there, looking at each other, an elf I hadn’t seen before approached. “I’m Ceneal, son of Emor. My father instructed me to listen to you and heed your advice. We must leave quickly, for I fear that the time that my father can hold off the orcs will not be long. We must travel quickly.”
I nodded my head, and Gait and I quickly made way to our mounts.
The last view of Emor I had was of him and those that stood with him, waiting for the orcs to attack from across the clearing.
There were about fifty elves that were mounted. They took up the rear guard as we left the edge of the clearing.
For the rest of the day, we traveled quickly through the giant trees. Neither sight nor sound of orcs did we hear during our travel. We stopped just before nightfall at the edge of a small stream, deep in the forest.
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