by RG Long
Behind her, all hell broke loose.
29: New Plans
“Bah. What in the name of mountains’ deep is goin’ on out there?”
Ealrin could understand Gorplin’s frustration and curiosity. One moment they were being given another very small serving of bread and water. The next, they were being tied down to their poles even tighter than before and left to wonder what all the noise was out in the camp.
Trumpets were sounding, men were shouting, and the sounds of magical explosions were ringing out all over the Isol army. It was like the battle had already begun.
“Did Grellis come marching out to meet us already?” Barton wondered out loud.
Ealrin had no explanation for him. The flap of their tent moved slightly as soldiers rushed by it. The wind of their hurry made him catch glimpses of chaos. Spears and shields flashed. Captains yelled at their soldiers. Speakers were throwing light into the night sky, illuminating the area around them like the day.
“They’re certainly causing a ruckus out there,” Blume said over the noise. She sighed. “Think there’s any chance we can get out of these ropes and make a break for it while it’s crazy?”
“You’ll do no such thing!” Barton commanded, struggling against his own restraints. “You’ll face the justice coming to you from Her Holiness! You will not be making any breaks for it.”
“Bah,” Gorplin chuckled. “You think we’d untie you? Your head ain’t right.”
Barton gave the dwarf tied next to him a glare. Then he let out a frustrated sigh and muttered.
“Wish my scouts would inform me as to what’s happening out there.”
“Yeah,’ Ealrin said, not feeling sorry for the old man at all. “And I wish your kind and benevolent ruler hadn’t tied us all up.”
Blume made a sound next to him.
“What?” he said, turning to face her.
She smiled.
“I don’t think I’ve heard you get upset at someone like this,” she said through a grin. “Well, other than me, I guess.”
Ealrin chuckled.
“Can you try to untie the ropes?” he said in a quieter voice. “Speakers put them on us. Is there any way?”
“I’ve been trying,” she said, with a resounded sigh. “But the things won’t budge.”
She shook herself, and the tent pole they were tied to, ever so slightly for effect, but Ealrin felt neither of them move enough to get them out of their current predicament. He put his head back on the pole as another group of soldiers ran by, motivated, he was sure, by the shouting of their captain.
“Find the devil!” Ealrin heard him say. “Or Her Holiness will have us all cooked!”
“Now we’re dealing with devils, hmm?” said a voice from the corner of their tent.
Ealrin had to look twice and blink before he believed what he was seeing.
Before he could even say her name, she was rushing to them, trying to cut them free.
“What kind of rope is this?” she said, her brow furrowed and her hands moving quickly with the knife she held.
“They were sealed by Speakers,” Ealrin said, finally believing that Silverwolf actually stood beside him. “How did you...?”
“Later,” she said, winking. “Here kid.”
Her hands shot behind Blume, who gasped first with wide eyes, then smiled.
At once, Ealrin felt his hands come free of the ropes. Gorplin stood up and flexed his arms.
“Ah-ha!” he exclaimed.
“Shut it, stumpy,” Silverwolf said, throwing him his ax. “There’s about a thousand soldiers between us and freedom. We’re not out of this yet.”
“What happened out there?” Blume said, standing to her feet.
“Shut it, kid,” she repeated to Blume. “Now get your hocus pocus ready, we’re about to have a lot of trouble.”
“Not if you take me,” Barton said from his seated and still very much tied up position. Ealrin was impressed with Blume’s ability to leave him where he was.
“I’ll shout and holler and make your escape very difficult if you walk out without me,” he said.
Ealrin eyed him suspiciously.
Silverwolf was already at him with her knife to his throat.
“Oh, I don’t know so much about the shouting part,” she said in a dangerous tone. A single drop of blood ran down the edge of her knife.
“No,” Ealrin said.
“Aw, come on,” Silverwolf argued, not taking the knife off of Barton’s neck. “I haven’t killed a soul since I came into this awful camp.”
“Leave him,” Ealrin ordered. He wasn’t sure if Silverwolf was going to listen to him or not, but the fact that Barton could hear him was important.
“Get us out,” Ealrin instructed, looking at Barton with a firm stare. “Help us find our friends and we’ll get you where ever you need to go and do whatever you need to do.”
Barton raised an eyebrow at Ealrin.
“Whatever I need to do?” he asked, a gleam in his eyes.
Ealrin had very sudden second thoughts. But what else could they do? They were in the middle, he assumed so at least, of the Isol army camp with soldiers and guards running wild. Their window of opportunity was shrinking.
“Let him out, Blume,” Ealrin said, not taking his eyes off of Barton.
The ropes fell off of him and he got up quickly and backed a few steps away from Silverwolf. The assassin, on the other hand, rose slowly and looked disappointed.
“Not even one,” she muttered, putting her knife in her boot and holding her sword steady.
“The camp will be doing checks from tent to tent,” Barton said. “Standard procedure for when they’re looking for someone who’s escaped. They did the check on us first, to make sure we weren’t escaping ourselves. They’ll be back soon, though.”
He looked out of the tent’s opening without touching the flap. Ealrin saw him squint to see outside and get a feel of what was going on.
“They’ve got the camp lit up,” he said, turning back to Blume. “So, unless we can get some cover, this won’t last long.”
“I’m on it,” Blume said, clutching her gem and smiling mischievously.
THEY RAN AS QUICKLY as they dared under Blume’s magical protection. Over his head, Ealrin could feel the hum of magical energy. It was strange to run and not see your own shadow underneath you. Whatever spell Blume was doing had the effect of making the air above them darker and the floor below them light.
Like they were invisible.
Twice they had to split up and hide behind tents to let a passing group of guards go by. After they had cleared about ten tents, Ealrin heard a new alarm.
“They’ve seen the empty tent,” Barton said. “They know we’ve broken out.”
“Comforting,” Silverwolf said. “Can I start killing people now?”
“Only if it’s necessary,” Ealrin said. “I don’t want to give them more reason to hate us.”
“Hate is a little strong,” Barton said.
“So is tying us to poles in a tent!” Blume shot back.
They ran. Ealrin could see the very last row of tents before the open plains before them.
“Shouldn’t we run for the jungle?” he said. “Hide in the trees?”
“That’s where they think we’re going,” Barton said. “Too obvious.”
Ealrin didn’t like that reply. He’d much rather have something to hide behind than be out in the bare fields. But he didn’t want to argue. Barton was, after all, a master scout. Perhaps he could use that skill to help them evade capture. Silverwolf had certainly managed it more than once.
He gripped his sword and thanked her inwardly. He didn’t think he’d get his blade back. It grew warm in his grasp and he felt the familiar glow inside him. His blade was special, that was for sure.
Running at a normal pace, Barton said they should make a break for it as soon as they passed the last tent. Everyone ran faster. Gorplin was taking three steps for every one of Ealrin’s bu
t the dwarf was hardy and kept up as best as he could.
“Just a bit further!” Barton shouted. “There’s a small ridge we can hide behind and get further on without being spotted!”
“How dare you!”
From the ridge Barton had just pointed out, several soldiers appeared, along with men and women in robes. Ealrin guessed these were Speakers. There was no time to consider them, however. At the very front, floating down on her palanquin, seemingly supported by nothing, was Yada.
Barton kept running forward and fell on his knees.
“I’ve brought them to you, Your Holiness,” he cried with his face to the ground. “The fugitives and the one who stole from you.”
“Bah!” Gorplin yelled. “You dirty traitor!”
An arrow shot at Gorplin’s foot as he had sought to run to Barton. The dwarf slowly lowered the ax he had raised up.
Yada didn’t look at him. But she did throw her hand out to the side. Barton was hurled off the ground in the direction she had indicated and flew through the night sky. Ealrin heard his surprised shouts and the thud that meant he had landed some distance away.
Soldiers pointed bows and arrows at them, while Speakers lifted their hands in Blume’s direction.
“Hey, girlie,” Silverwolf said out of the corner of her mouth. “Now would be a great time for a little hocus pocus.”
Blume’s face was a shadow of shock and concentration.
“I... I can’t,” she said. “Something... Something’s wrong.”
Ealrin looked at the faces of the Speakers across from them. Each of them was muttering under their breath, their brows furrowed and sweat beginning to bead off of them.
“How dare you,” Yada said again, making every syllable more dangerous than the last. She set herself down right in front of them. Her headpiece was alight with blue gems and her face was livid.
“General Cern,” Yada said, not taking her eyes off of them. “You will escort this group to the front lines of the battle tomorrow, where you will hold a blade to each of their throats. You will ensure that the girl puts the full force of her magic into our service and aids us in the defeat of Grellis.”
“Yes, Your Holiness,” General Cern, a shorter man who was very broad across the chest, said as he bowed to her.
“They will all oblige willingly and without a fight,” Yada said, looking to Ealrin like a woman possessed. “Or they will each be cut open on the field of battle as a sacrifice to our victory.”
30: Prepare for the Dawn
The cart jostled as it slowed to a halt. Outside, a tumult of commotion was going on. People were shouting and the clang of metal sounded out in every direction. A loud, overwhelming thud rocked the wooden trailer.
“What was that, Miss Serinde?” Jurrin asked in a quaking voice.
“Sounded like a gate or barricade,” she said, remembering the noise from her past life. “I’m guessing we’re inside that huge castle we saw from the plains.”
“Why in the world did they bring us in here?” the little halfling asked.
Serinde didn’t have the courage to tell him what she actually thought they planned to do.
“I don’t know, little one,” she replied.
Serinde hadn’t been with this group of companions long. But she had certainly gone through a lot with them. First the rebuilding of the elven empire in the south of Irradan, then that exploration of the island with the ill prepared woman they called an assassin, and then, it seemed, from prison cell to prison cell as they made their way across Ladis.
Did this group ever slow down?
Serinde helped Jurrin back to his feet. He stumbled on some barrels that had fallen over and nearly went down again. Holve caught him just in time.
“Steady,” he said. “You, too.”
The last words he directed to Serinde. Could he tell she was nervous? She had never liked being shut into small spaces. They reminded her of tombs and graves. She hated death. As far as she was concerned, she had seen enough of it to last a lifetime.
A dim light flooded the cart as the doors were opened. The first thing Serinde saw was the points of several spears. After she comprehended this, she saw the face of the man who had shoved her into this cart.
Prince Farnus.
How in the world had he found them? They had materialized just outside the camp of the Isol army and there he was. As if he had been waiting for them. Serinde looked out and saw that they had indeed been brought inside the walls of the giant castle. Its walls were high and the heavy gate they had heard was shut tight. As the light of day faded around them, she saw that soldiers were shoving men into one group and women and their children into another. The men were being escorted to a building built into the walls of the castle. Out of the other side, haggard looking men came out with worn out shields and spears that had seen far too many years or battles to be useful.
The women and children were being shoved into other doors along the castle walls. Serinde guessed it was to protect them or, more likely, to get them out of the way.
Everywhere soldiers were rushing about. Some were running up long stairways, carrying bundles on their backs. Others were hauling rocks into piles next to trebuchets.
They were preparing for a siege.
“Strange, isn’t it,” he said as he looked Holve in the eyes. “That the Isolian army ends up on our doorstep the very week I find you back in the Theocracy?”
“Coincidence only,” Holve replied with a gruff tone.
Serinde couldn’t blame him. What more could he be assumed to be responsible for? Holve didn’t seem to have many friends on this continent, which would explain why he had been so eager to leave.
They were past that now.
“Out of the cart,” Farnus instructed. “Slowly. The little man first, then the elf, then you, Holve. All your spears in their faces!”
Slowly, Jurrin complied with Farnus’ order.
“Beggin’ your pardon, sir,” he said as he clambered down. “But I don’t think all this is necessary.”
“Nor do I think you are a natural being worth keeping alive,” Farnus said. “Perhaps we should rid the earth of your filth?”
Serinde looked at Farnus’ face as she disembarked from the cart as well. He was looking at Jurrin as if he were a rodent. Some little nuisance to be dealt with.
“I’ll instruct you for now, you miserable excuse for a human,” Farnus said as the onlookers stretched their necks to get a look of the halfling over the shoulders and shields of the soldiers who surrounded them.
“Did you know that humans first resided here? In Ladis? This is the birthplace of humanity. Our great Decolos saw what was to be a great homeland for his children and scourged the land of dwarf and elf and other freaks like yourself. Our divine father foresaw the age of men and prepared this land for us. Now, men who have turned from Decolos and his teachings are trying to bring about a second darkness. The fools! They think they’re stronger than our great founder? We’ll show them what the adherents to Ladism believe to be true. Death is a beauty in its own.”
Farnus bent down to Jurrin’s height.
“And we will give them, and then you, a death worth singing songs about.”
Straightening back up to his full height, he gave Serinde a look that she interpreted to mean ‘I hope you were listening, too.’
Without turning to face either of them, he pointed to a man wearing a brown robe. Serinde flinched. She hadn’t even noticed Jerius until just now.
“Bind them and take them up to the temple and make sure they are chained to the wall. I do not wish for any surprises this time.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Jerius said with a half bow. The prophet pointed at his guardswomen and directed them to the prisoners.
“We meet again,” he said with a grin that offered no kindness or friendship.
JERIUS LED THE PROCESSION into a temple that resembled the one they had escaped from in Arranus. Tall towers reached up past the walls of the castle. This
was no small feat. Serinde thought that in her own homeland they had built buildings that reached the heavens. She had seen cities built into towers, but nothing this slender and tall had ever reached her thoughts, let alone her eyes.
“Open the gates! A Prophet of Ladis approaches!” Jerius called out.
At once, the metal gates that had been shut tight were flung open to receive them. In walked Jerius, Holve, Serinde, and Jurrin, surrounded by a dozen guards. Oh, how she wished for her swords. She’d show these guards what she’d learned from the assassin.
A part of Serinde wondered why Holve hadn't taken the opportunity to fight back himself. She knew he was a skilled fighter and able in any type of combat. Perhaps it was the fact that, even if they did manage to evade their current guards, they’d still be locked inside a giant castle closed against the outside.
She assumed this was the obvious reason. Still, there was a part of her that would much rather try to hide in the city than be chained to a wall. Serinde thought it was crazy of Holve to allow this to happen without fighting to escape. It seemed unlike him, somehow. She wondered if he was becoming just as tired of being tied up as she was.
Just as they were about to cross into the courtyard of the temple, however, Holve proved her right.
Headbutting the poor woman who stood next to him, Holve swept his leg out and sent Jerius to the ground before the prophet was able to pull his whip from his side. Jurrin managed to relieve the man of his weapon before he could recover. A spear came thrusting towards Serinde, but she grabbed it with her bound hands, twisted, heard a yelp from the woman who had just been holding the shaft and turned.
Silently, she thanked Silverwolf for showing her that move. Now that she was in possession of a weapon, she felt powerful. Holve was up and diving towards another group of guards.
This proved unnecessary, however, because most of them had run into the temple and were slamming the gates shut, much to the duress of Jerius, who was now crawling towards the same gates on hands and knees.
