A sample from the Gathering of the Clans

The snort of the horses woke Sile, and for a moment she lay still and listened. No further sound came. Just as she was falling back asleep, the horses snorted again, and she knew something was wrong. Carefully, she rolled out her blanket and placed a hand over Malachi's mouth. He woke with a start, but she held him firmly and motioned with a raised finger for silence. Releasing the fool, she rose quietly and peeked out of the makeshift tent. Obscure shadowy forms moved in the misty half-light of dawn. They stalked slowly closer to the hobbled ponies, so as not to spook them. At first, she thought they might be wolves, but their movements were not like the way of the wolf. The mists cleared for a moment, and she could make out small humanoid forms. Silently, she counted them. There were at least eight that she could see, and there were possibly more, hiding in the mist. There was no possibility of avoiding a confrontation against so many. The dawn raiders would be hoping to catch them unprepared, whilst they slept. "Stay here," she hissed at the fool. Slipping her daggers free, she slipped into the mist.
On silent feet, she circled the camp and approached the visitors from the flank, moving as quickly as she dared. When she was in position, she paused, fixing the position of as many of the shadowy creatures in her mind, as possible. Then, she leapt into motion.
The first of the creatures turned, sensing her at the last moment, and its eyes widened as her razor sharp dagger sliced across its throat, severing jugular and windpipe before it could cry out. Sile moved on, rushing at her second target. The creature let out a brief shriek as one of her daggers plunged into its neck and drove upwards. The cry was short, but loud enough to alert the others. … The misty battle had begun.
Within moments, they were charging at her from all sides. The first two assailants went down quickly, before Sile was forced to go on the defensive. Only her constant motion and dexterity saved her, as time and again, a variety of weapons were thrust in her direction. Spinning and flipping backwards and forwards, she prevented her opponents from any concerted attack. She even managed to wound a few of them, but she wondered how long she could sustain this frantic pace. She was outnumbered, and they had her surrounded. Hearing a war cry and sensing movement to her right, she dodged away from the expected blow, still trying to get a clear view of her opponents in the dense fog. She lashed out with a foot, catching one of them in the face and then ducked and spun, hamstringing her stunned opponent.
She heard the clash of weapons again to her right and back-flipped away from the noise, once, twice before spinning to confront another of the creatures. Her knives rose quickly to block its downward striking club, and her knee rose sharply upwards as she countered. Catching it in its solar plexus, she heard it grunt and smelled its rank breath, before she embedded both of her daggers into its kidneys. She had broken free and momentarily paused to catch her breath. She could still hear the strange war cry amongst the clash of blades. It came more clearly to her ears. "For Medb!"
"Malachi!" She exclaimed, rushing back into the fray. Only the Jester's bulk, distinguished him from the other creatures, as they were of a similar height. She was surprised at the ferocity of the Jester's attacks. Armed only with his toy-like sword, Malachi was forcing a pair of opponents back with powerful blows. Seeing one of the creatures, sneaking up behind the jester, Sile leapt forward and dispatched it.
Seeing the odds rapidly diminishing, the creatures broke away and fled into the mist. Within moments, it was as if they had never existed. The dead, however, lay on the ground as mute testament of the dawn raid.
Malachi bent over and groaned.
"Are you okay?"
"I'll be fine, Sile, just give me a moment."
"Are you wounded, Malachi? Is there anything I can do?"
"The dirty scoundrel kneed me in the privates … I don't suppose there is any chance you could kiss them better?"
Sile grinned, relieved that Malachi was not seriously injured."Sorry, but its way too early in the morning for that sort of nonsense. Anyway, since you're no longer the Court Jester, you can't afford my services."
"Ouch! Have a little sympathy for a wounded comrade, Sile. Do you have to kick me whilst I'm down?"
She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "There you go, a kiss for my heroic knight, though I'm not so sure about your shiny armour."
"What! I sleep better in the nude, and I didn't have any time to put clothes on. That get-up you gave me is tighter than a taxman's pity. I'd still be struggling my way into those damn shorts. Anyway … when you're a fine specimen of masculinity like me, you might as well share it with the world!"
Sile wisely refrained from comment. Instead, she looked down at the creature that was lying at their feet. "What are these things?"
"They're Na Coblinau-Dorcha. Dirty, little, sneak-thieves, the lot of them."
"Dark Goblins? I thought that they were just in fairy tales."
"Oh no, they're real, all right. There are loads of the smelly critters roaming around in the 'Teeth of the Draoidín', but you don't see many of them this far south. There must be a cave complex around here that they're hiding out in. They don't venture out much in daylight. It's safer for them to sneak about in the dark. This mist must've been too tempting for them. They must've smelled the horses."
"How is it that a court jester knows all about this?"
"Where I come from, way up in the wild north, there are large bands of Na Coblinau-Dorcha, plenty of Ciudach, and a few other nastier buggers I could mention. You learn to fight before you learn to walk, if you want to stay alive. My people tend to be quite reserved and serious, due to the harsh environments they live in. They don't have the same tolerance for fools, dreamers, and poets that you Pects do." Malachi explained. "I wasn't always a jester, you know, though I've always been a bit of a fool. I was cast out of my tribe when it became clear that I wasn't like the rest of them. Somehow, I managed to survive and headed south, looking for a better life. I've done a lot of stupid jobs over the years, stuff that no one in their right mind would do. Clearly, I was eminently qualified!"
"You mean to say that you're not a Pect, but I thought ..."
"You thought what? That I was some inbred, mountain runt, or that my mother had been sampling too many recreational mushrooms and I came out deformed. Is that what you were going to say?"
"Well, no… but."
"Don't worry, Sile. I've heard them all before, and the answer is no, I'm none of those things. I'm exactly how my gods meant me to be." He declared. "Though, I think I was left at the back of the brains queue." Malachi indicated his forehead with a tapping finger.
"So you're supposed to be… short?"
"Yep, that's probably why we're called Dwarfs."
"Dwarfs! As in … Dwarfs?"
"I know … fairy tales, right?" Malachi grinned and rubbed his arms against the chill.
"But I thought Dwarfs were supposed to have beards, hanging down beyond their wedding-tackle."
Malachi scratched his chin. "Medb doesn't approve of facial hair, and what the Queen wants ... anyway, it's hard to be a jester if no-one can see your face."
"I'd never thought of that."
"I'd better get those shorts on before my plums fall off. I can feel them creeping into my throat as we speak."
"I can do better than that, Malachi." Sile declared, stepping over to the baggage. Digging around for a moment, she pulled out a black and white cap, with attached bells. "There you go!"
"My suit … you've brought my suit!" Malachi blubbered, rushing over and hugging her enthusiastically.
"Please … put some clothes on first! I know where you've been!" She protested, quickly handing him the rest of his piebald regalia.The Gathering of the Clans- The Storm-bringer Saga Book Two