“Dispatch the lookouts,” he murmured to Tarq. “Remind them to stay down.”
Tarq turned and issued a curt order, then two warriors split off from the main force and began moving up the side of Dun Carryl, towards a ridge that would shelter them from the eyes of the Sthan and the dragon but still give them a good vantage point. Garnuk meanwhile continued leading his warriors around the mountain, towards the numerous hidden passages Harg had marked on his map. The further they went, the smaller Garnuk’s force became as warriors began to split off two by two to wait by their assigned entrances.
As Garnuk closed in on the western side of the vertaga stronghold, a brief flash high in the sky caught his eye. He looked up immediately, frowning, and caught the indistinct shape again. It was moving slowly, lazily, circling high above the mountain.
“Dragon,” he muttered to Harg and Tarq. “The Sthan are close.”
A moment later, he became aware of a low rumbling noise, slowly building as the source drew nearer. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the noise stopped.
“They must have entered the canyon,” Tarq guessed. “Such formations do strange things to sounds.”
Garnuk nodded distractedly. His eyes were fixed on the scouts now, who remained motionless on the side of the mountain. The moment one of them moved, Garnuk and his warriors would be on their way.
Several minutes passed with no signals and no further indication of what was happening on the other side of the mountain. Garnuk started to pace back and forth anxiously, glancing up at the scouts every third step. Harg and Tarq stood still behind him, hands gripping their weapons tightly.
A roar swept over the mountain, the battle cry of the dragon. Then came piercing clashes of metal on metal, the snarling of varloug prans, and the whinnying of panicked horses. The scouts stood and waved frantically, making sure everyone could see them.
“Let’s go,” Garnuk muttered.
The Exile ran forward as fast as he could, making for an access tunnel which was usually reserved for slaves who worked the eastern fields. The tunnel was easy to find, but a heavy door had been fixed over it and sealed. Garnuk knocked on the portal, hoping there would be guards inside who would answer.
There were not.
Garnuk frowned at the door, contemplating how to break in. Then Tarq stepped forward with his axe, pushing his general to the side firmly.
“My turn,” he grunted, swinging his axe experimentally. Then, with a short powerful stroke he slammed the blade into the crack between the doors. Wood splintered all along the edge of both doors, and Tarq struck again from a different angle. The captain continued battering away at the gate, sending chunks of wood flying. Soon, he had widened the gap between the doors so that the locking beam was visible. The captain reversed his grip on the axe, and levered the bar out of place with the axe haft. The solid timber thudded to the floor of the tunnel and the gates sagged open, yielding.
“After you,” Tarq said, stepping to one side and grinning.
Garnuk wordlessly moved through the opening, back into the home he had been driven from so long ago. Dun Carryl, the pride of all vertaga. Their stronghold through centuries of war. The stone walls and floor of the tunnel were familiar, strong. Like an old friend he had not seen in years.
“The mission, general,” Harg urged from behind him.
Garnuk nodded, brushing a clawed hand over the stone. “I know. But do you not feel it as well?”
“Yes,” Harg agreed, “This is home. This is where we belong. But we must save our people if this is to become a reality.”
“Yes,” Tarq agreed. “Harg, you should lead the way. You know how to get to the upper levels the fastest. Garnuk and I will follow, pretend to be your guards or servants or something. Others will pay less attention to us that way.”
Garnuk nodded. “Good idea. Harg, get us to where the slaves and others are being held.”
The captain nodded, gathered his thoughts, then strode confidently down the corridor, moving as if he owned the whole of the mountain.
“What are you doing?” Tarq hissed as the other captain moved down the center of the hall. “You’ll be seen!”
“Yes, but no one will question me if I act like I belong here,” Harg told him. “Someone skulking in the shadows though would be sure to arouse suspicion. Move naturally, calmly, like you would have before the Usurper’s reign.”
Tarq glanced at Garnuk uncertainly, and the general nodded reassuringly. “Harg is right,” he said. “The act is the important thing. Be confident.”
“No skulking?”
“No,” Garnuk said, stepping up behind Harg. “No skulking. We are supposed to be here. It is our home, wrongfully taken from us. It is the Usurper who should be skulking.”
“I rather like that idea,” Tarq mused, moving cautiously beside Garnuk.
“Then use it to act more natural,” Harg grunted. “I can hear you skulking back there.”
“I’m walking in the middle of the corridor!”
“It’s not just the location, it’s how you move too,” Harg admonished. “Right now your steps sound like you are trying to sneak up on someone. You need to be marching purposefully or something.”
“But that will make noise, draw attention – ”
“There’s a battle going on out there,” Garnuk reminded him. “There will be many soldiers about. And they will not be moving quietly.”
Tarq took a deep breath, steadying his nerves. “Sorry,” he said finally. “This is harder than anything else we’ve done. And I haven’t been in the field as much as others – ”
“Doesn’t matter,” Garnuk grunted. “Just focus on the job we’re doing now.” Several thuds shook the mountain, as though a giant were pounding against it with a thirty-foot club. “How far to the – ”
“We’ll get there,” Harg said shortly. “Just follow me and do what I do.”
The captain led them up a spiraling flight of stairs and down another corridor, staying on the eastern side of the mountain. These passages were nearly deserted at the moment, and they encountered no soldiers. Harg made every turn without hesitation, moving quickly and with obvious purpose and confidence. Garnuk almost believed the rebel captain belonged here, that he was in control, even though he knew the other vertag to be simply acting the part.
After six flights of stairs and a dozen nearly deserted corridors, Harg turned onto a wider hallway that was slightly curved. There were fewer doors lining the walls, the ceiling was higher, and there were even cunningly crafted window slits looking out over the mountain. By peering out through the narrow gaps, which would be indiscernible from the outside, Garnuk could see they were slowly moving around to the west side of the mountain again. On the northwestern slope, a battle was raging between a small force of Sthan and a pack of varloug prans.
Then, the light from the slit was temporarily blocked as a massive shape dove past, flaming. The dragon flared its translucent wings, roaring loudly enough to shake dust from the ceiling as it dove at the varloug pran riders, flaming them mercilessly. The vertaga attack was disrupted, and the Sthan force persevered for the time being. Garnuk turned his attention back to the inside of Dun Carryl, wondering how much time they had before the Sthan prevailed.
The hall grew progressively more crowded, with armored soldiers running every which way. None of them paid any attention to Garnuk and the others, ignoring them completely. It was almost like they were invisible.
“Not much further,” Harg murmured to Garnuk and Tarq out of the corner of his mouth. “Through that archway on the left, towards the center of the mountain.”
“The great cavern?” Garnuk asked, surprised. It was a massive, mostly natural room in the approximate center of Dun Carryl, with a ceiling higher than ten vertaga standing on top of each other and wider from end to end than the lake that guarded the front gate.
“Only place large enough to hold them all,” Harg grunted. “Be alert. The Ramshuk may be close.”
Ga
rnuk flinched at that and looked around surreptitiously. Several high-ranking warriors were running towards the western part of the corridor, armor clanking, booted feet pounding against stone. The command post would be that way, and the Usurper would be there.
The Exile tore his gaze away and followed Harg into the next corridor, even larger than the one they had just been in. The high ceiling was strange, really a waste of space in some ways. But then again, this could have been one of the natural tunnels in the mountain that had been tamed over the years, the rough and uneven edges smoothed out and made more appealing. There were many doors branching off of this hallway, iron bound doors that had led to barracks when Garnuk had been the Ramshuk. The great cavern was the Ramshuk’s seat of power, the room from which he ruled. It made sense that his armies should be stationed nearby.
Ahead, Garnuk could see a massive set of doors which stood open, flanked by a pair of guards. One of them the Exile did not recognize, but the other was unmistakably Gorit.
Harg led Garnuk and Tarq right up to the doors, ignoring everyone else in the corridors. Few warriors were passing this way, since it was a little away from the battle. But that, Garnuk reflected, might make it more likely that someone question their presence here.
“Gorit,” Harg said as he approached. “Any news to report?”
Gorit shook his head, then noticed Garnuk. His jaw dropped in disbelief. “How?” he managed.
“Very carefully,” Garnuk grunted. “Inside, quickly. Harg, what’s the plan?”
“The rest should be meeting us here,” Harg explained. “Have any arrived?”
“A few,” Gorit replied. “Maybe ten. We did not realize . . .”
“That I would risk coming?” Garnuk finished.
“Yes,” Gorit said, nodding.
“It needed to be done,” the Exile grunted. “This mission is everything. Can we start evacuating some of those inside with the ten warriors we have?”
“That would be wise,” Harg agreed. “I’m not sure how much time we have. Ruekig is inside?” he asked Gorit sharply.
Gorit nodded. “He is supervising things, towards the front, where the Ramshuk normally sits.”
“I see him,” Harg said, peering into the room. “Stay on guard here, send the others to us as they arrive. I – ”
A series of heavy impacts shook the mountainside. Garnuk stumbled and nearly fell, catching himself just in time.
“Catapults,” Gorit said worriedly. “They’ve been pounding away at the front gate.”
“It will hold,” Garnuk said confidently. “The bastion has never even been chipped before.”
“Maybe,” Harg said doubtfully. “But we still must hurry.”
The three warriors began shoving their way through the crowded room. The citizens of Dun Carryl had been crammed into the space in no particular order or layout. Vertaga were standing or sitting wherever they could find space, regardless of whether it was in the middle of a path or not. No thought had been given to rank or class either. Servants were mixed in with elders, slaves mixed in with traders and craft masters. Harg forged a path as best he could, but it was still some time before they reached the front of the room and Ruekig’s command center.
Ruekig had set up a small perimeter of guards to give him space from the pressing masses while he did his best to organize the situation. According to the Ramshuk’s orders, all he had to do was keep the civilians in the great cavern, but he was trying to wrench some order from the chaos to make things easier on everyone. The guards moved to stop Garnuk’s group as they approached, but then Ruekig noticed them and strode forward quickly, shoving his warriors to the side.
“Finally,” he growled. “We need to start evacuating.”
“The battle goes poorly?” Garnuk asked, surprised.
The mountain shook again, but the impacts seemed more distance.
“No,” Ruekig growled, “But it’s only a matter of time. We’re ready to start moving people out through the servant’s corridors. It will be less obvious then taking them out so close to the command post, and the Ramshuk.”
“I still can’t believe he wouldn’t evacuate them all,” Garnuk muttered. “Even just to a nearby village for a few days.”
“I don’t think he expected to lose,” Ruekig replied grimly. “Just last night, reinforcements arrived from nearby clans.”
“How many?”
“Hundreds,” the commander said. “Maybe thousands, hard to tell. They arrived during the night, so the Sthan scouts would not notice.”
“Then maybe we are not as doomed as we thought,” Garnuk muttered. “No sense in taking chances though. Is everyone being kept here, or are there more in other locations?”
“There are some in the rooms adjoining the servant corridors,” Ruekig reported. “And more have taken refuge in the barracks you passed on the way in.”
“And the slaves?”
“They’re in the barracks, most of them, a few in here. We were going to put them all in here as well, but we ran out of room.”
Garnuk nodded. “Start evacuating using the warriors who have already arrived as escorts. Empty the rooms in the servant corridors first, then get this lot moving. When these are on their way, I’ll start refilling the room with the slaves from the barracks.”
“Good, that moves them away from the battle,” Ruekig observed. “A solid plan. We’ll get to work.”
“What do you want us to do?” Tarq asked urgently, leaning in closer.
“You stay with me,” Garnuk muttered. “Harg, you know the corridors and the escape routes. Do what you can to help Ruekig. Do you know how he is planning to convince everyone to leave?”
“His warriors will start spreading rumors that the gates are on the verge of being breached by the dragon,” Harg said, grimacing. “Those rumors could be true for all we know. A few minutes after the rumors begin, he’ll tell everyone the Ramshuk has commanded them to evacuate until the Sthan have been driven off.”
“Then help those rumors along,” Garnuk said. “Tarq and I will see about the slaves.”
Harg nodded then moved off among the crowded vertaga. Garnuk began forcing his way back towards the front entrance, where Gorit was still standing guard. As he moved, he turned continuously, scanning faces, hoping to spot his family in the chaos. But he did not see them.
“They’re here, general,” Tarq promised, resting a heavy hand on Garnuk’s shoulder. “We will get them out safely.”
The mountain shook again, and the civilians cast anxious looks at each other. Garnuk did his best to look nervous as well, hoping it would help the others convince everyone to evacuate. As he had the thought, he heard urgent shouts from the front of the cavern. Then, vertaga were surging to their feet, pushing through the small access doors that led to the service passages, and eventually to the escape routes.
But, further away from the exit, there were many who had not heard Ruekig clearly. They were still sitting, peering around uncertainly, clogging the path for others.
Garnuk hauled the nearest one to their feet roughly. “Get moving!” he shouted. “Time to evacuate, by the Ramshuk’s command!”
Tarq moved off and began helping as well. “The dragon is at the gates!” he cried. “We must go, now, while it’s distracted.”
“Not bad,” Garnuk muttered. Vertaga were streaming towards the exit now, but they were piling up at the narrow entrances to the service passages. There simply wasn’t enough space for everyone to get through.
“That’s going to take time,” Tarq muttered.
A new series of impacts struck the mountain, and the rumbling was louder than ever before. The ground shook under Garnuk’s feet and he stumbled, cursing as he tried to make his way to the front entrance.
“What’s going on?” he shouted to Gorit.
“The catapults again,” the warrior grunted. “They’ve changed their target to the mountain itself.”
Garnuk frowned worriedly. The gates would last indefinitely, t
hey were made of an ancient material that was many times harder than stone. But the mountain was just a mountain. If the Sthan beat at it long enough, it would certainly fall.
Another rolling series of crashes rocked the cavern. Screams of terror rang out, and the pushing and shoving at the back of the cavern renewed.
“Not enough time,” Garnuk muttered. “We’re going to have to change the plan.”
“What?” Tarq demanded sharply.
“The slaves,” Garnuk explained. “We have to take them out through the main hallways.”
“They’ll be seen!”
“Running away like everyone else,” Garnuk pointed out. “I doubt anyone will stop us.” He turned to face Gorit again. “Which rooms are they in?”
“First three on both sides of the hall,” the warrior replied promptly.
Garnuk nodded. “You two go to the end of the hall and direct them towards the slave tunnels. They should know where those are. Tarq and I will open the rooms one by one and send them to you. Are there any other warriors we can use as escorts?”
“We put two in each room with the slaves, but – ”
“It will have to do,” Garnuk growled. “Let’s move.”
The small group scattered, Garnuk and Tarq each taking a side of the hall and moving to the first door, Gorit and his companion racing to the end of the corridor. Garnuk threw open the first room on his side.
“Evacuate!” he shouted. “To the tunnels on the east side, go, go, go!”
“What is this?” one of the two guards demanded.
“The dragon is at the gates,” Garnuk replied, shoving the guards out into the hall and motioning for the slaves to follow. “The Ramshuk has ordered everyone to evacuate!”
The slaves tumbled out of the room in a disorganized mass, pushing and shoving to get to the front. Garnuk was swept out of the room, but fortunately he was able to move back into the great cavern without getting carried away. As Garnuk’s room emptied, Tarq darted into the first room on his side, roaring for the guards and slaves to run.
The Ramshuk (Heirs of Legacy Book 3) Page 56
