flapped, lifted slowly off the ground, and began their flight. The only thing that saved them was a southerly wind that allowed them to glide most of the distance.
Scotty and Jingo heard the screams, ran toward one of the giant trees, and saw the first Torgs round the curve at its base. The eighty five archers sent to hold had been overrun and killed. Scotty hit the first three and Jingo killed the next eight. Ten other archers joined them and the Torg began running around the back of the trunk to avoid the mass of their dead. Now two hundred archers joined the killing and Torg dead began filling the space around the trunk. Scotty looked at his quiver and saw he only had two bundles remaining. He looked around and saw the others were also running out. The Torg began pulling their dead away from the tree and Scotty knew they had failed. Once the mound was removed, they would be overwhelmed. Just as the first Torg came through the gap Scotty head a loud screech over head and saw Vring drop quivers full of arrows at their feet. Scotty smiled at Jingo and the killing began anew.
With the weight removed, Vring flew out of the forest nimbly dodging the trees until he came out into a clearing and gained altitude. He flew directly to the central mountain next to their land and landed next to Zreeg just below the snow line. Bleath came flying in and demanded, “What are you doing?”
“Our friends are close to being overrun. They are short of these weapons. I must take more.”
Zreeg looked at Vring and saw he was weary, but kept his silence. Bleath said, “I forbid you to do so.”
Vring looked at his father and said, “I gave an oath to the four armed two-leg’s mate that I would help him return or die trying. Would you have me dishonor my promise?”
Bleath said nothing. Vring grabbed a load of quivers in his talons and looked at his father, “How can we not face the danger our friends are confronting? Even if I fail, the effort must be made.”
Bleath looked at his only child and said, “You have earned my honor this day.”
Vring felt his heart swell, then he lifted and glided toward the giant forest below.
Scotty and the archers had filled all available space around the giant tree with dead Torg. It seemed the Torg knew that this was where the fight would be won or lost, and the massive herds began moving toward the tree. They started pulling dead bodies away from the trunk in earnest. Scotty looked up, saw Vring approaching with more arrows, and realized the small Zord was barely able to stay above the lower trees. Vring dropped his load and then it happened. His weak wing gave out and he fell out of the air into the trunk of the Ging being attacked by the Torg. Scotty yelled, “NO!”
Jingo looked at him, then turned and saw what he was seeing. He saw Vring holding on to the trunk with his talons and saw the Zord was weak; he was starting to slip down the trunk. He saw Scotty grab four quivers and run toward the injured Zord. Jingo yelled at Scotty, but knew there was no stopping his friend. Jingo grabbed six quivers and ran after Scotty. The attacking Torg saw the injured Zord and began leaping up the mound of dead surrounding the trunk. Scotty arrived and scampered up the mound just as Vring fell from the trunk beside him. Scotty shot the first six Torg climbing the mound. The first had gotten within six feet of Vring when it suddenly stopped its climb, stared at the Zord with a dead expression, and fell back into other climbers with an arrow jutting out of its head. Ten Torg were knocked off the mound as the Torg fell back into the mass below. Jingo arrived right behind Scotty and they saw the thousands of Torg filling the three pathways leading to the tree’s base. The giant herds of Torg left the other trees to join in the attack where the Zord had fallen. The archers defending those trees sent half their number running to the new attack. They grabbed as many quivers as they could carry and ran to join their friends.
Vring stared out into the thousands of bellowing Torg filling the pathways on each side of the tree, pulling at their dead to open the path. He looked out over the forest and saw the huge piles of their dead at the other trees surrounding the nesting ground. He could see the thousands of newborns still in their nests, instinctively refusing to leave without their parents. He looked at the two standing beside him fighting to save his life. He found an inner peace and knew that his family had found new friends that would make a difference, if not now, then later, in saving their babies. He watched it all and hoped to share his vision if he survived this fight. He forgot his wing, he forgot his suspicions of the two-legs, he marveled at their amazing skill with their weapons, and he knew if he survived he would have children of his own one day.
Now there were four hundred archers on the mound, and the Torg were being killed a hundred yards from the tree. Two hundred archers began moving down the mound in each direction, killing anything that moved in front of them.
No one had ever determined how the Torg communicate. They had to possess some means of communication; they attacked in teams and moved together in herds. However they did it, a message was sent and the thousands of Torg in the forest turned and fled. It had somehow gotten through their simple consciousness that nothing awaited them in this forest but death. The Zord flying high over head could hear the roar of the gigantic battle but were unable to see through the tress. Suddenly, they saw Torg running out of the forest into the wasteland bordering the forest.
Teelee, circling high overhead, saw the Torg and wondered what was happening. Then she saw thousands run out of the forest. As she watched, the numbers escaping stunned her. The huge herds escaping approached a hundred thousand, and the mass continued to run out of the trees. Zreeg joined Telee circling the forest and as the roar of the Torg at the nesting ground faded, they could hear the yelps below. Telee felt her heart skip a beat as she heard the distinctive yelps of her six children. She screamed in answer and flew twists and turns as she celebrated her joy. Zreeg felt his love and joy for his mate and her newfound heart. Her joy overwhelmed him, and he joined her in an acrobatic flight demonstrating their love for each other.
Scotty collapsed next to Vring and said, “We have got to quit meeting like this.”
Vring lifted his wing and winced, “I will if you will.”
Scotty looked at Vring and said, “If you had not arrived with more arrows, we would have all died. You saved us.”
Jingo came around the giant tree’s trunk and fell flat on his back on top of a giant, dead Torg and said, “That’s it! I’m done! Someone wake me in two years and while you’re at it, have them bring me some new arms.” and fell dead asleep.
Vring and Scotty looked at Jingo and Scotty smiled at his sleeping friend. “We would have failed without him. He made the difference.”
Vring looked at Scotty, “He certainly carried more than his share of this load, but it was you that gave your warriors the heart to fight on.”
Scotty lay down and stretched out, “If you say so, Vring. When help arrives, please have someone help me get up. I don’t think I can move my arms anymore.”
Vring smiled, “So, I’m not the only one with bad limbs?”
Scotty never heard him. Neither the yelps of the thousands of newborn Zord or the screams of their parents overhead could wake him.
Vring looked at the surviving exhausted archers sitting in the nesting ground and counted seven hundred forty six. He felt a great loss for those that died. Not one Zord had been killed, though he had come close. Vring knew the two-legs were owed a blood debt. He turned and saw Bleath leading the community up the path toward him. The huge Zord had no trouble climbing the mounds choking the path. He saw the amazement of everyone as they witnessed the number of dead Torg surrounding the nesting ground. Joyous parents rushed forward to find their children, while Bleath stayed with Vring and looked at the two sleeping beside him. Bleath felt Vring’s feelings and said, “Show me what you saw, son.”
Vring showed him.
Chapter Five
The archers had gathered at the edge of the nesting ground and ate as they mourned their lost friends and brothers. Many owed their lives to the brave archers that stood their ground, killing charging Torg until they were overrun. Scotty and Jingo had their arms in slings and winced every time they moved. Most of the archers were not going to lift anything larger than a grellup pod for weeks. The recoil from the bowguns left bruises on their shoulders. Lifting the weight of the guns for nine hours had been exhausting.
Scotty looked at Jingo and said, “It looks like that war gland kept you going.”
