“Great work,” Larina said. She bent down and groped about Tarl’s waist. With a flourish, she located a rusty dagger tucked in his belt, and pulled a set of heavy keys free. “Yes. Got them. Grab his sword.”
Olmar wiped his hands on his filthy jerkin. He pulled Tarl’s sword free, and spat on his corpse, “I tell’d ya not to mess with Pops.”
Larina called him from the corridor. “Come on. You find Pops while I spring Sadie.”
Olmar didn’t have to be told twice. He stooped low to step free of his prison cell, but stopped. “Me cap.” He ducked back in to fetch his worn, leather hat, before slipping into the hallway and lumbering toward the intersection. He looked up and down the side halls, unsure which way to go first. He roared, “Alhena? Where are ya, Pops?”
Outside of Sadyra’s cell, Larina shouted almost as loud, “Midge, keep it down. You’ll alert the whole damned militia.”
Olmar disappeared down the right passageway.
Larina grinned, and fumbled with the dozens of keys. What a Lunkhead. She tried half a dozen keys before Sadyra’s lock turned. Pushing the door open, she gave her friend a quick hug, noting Sadyra’s blood encrusted scalp and fat lip. “You okay to walk?”
Sadyra stepped into the corridor, her storm grey eyes dark with anger—very unlike her usual, jovial self. Larina was well aware of Sadyra’s temper. It took a great deal to trigger it, but once she went off, Sadyra was hell in boots. Larina pitied any hapless guard who crossed her path.
Olmar’s voice called out Alhena’s name.
“Come on, we better find Pops before Lunkhead lets the whole town know we’re free,” Larina said, and sprinted down the hall. Stopping at the intersection, she spotted Olmar halfway down the side tunnel, throwing open empty cell doors, their squealing and subsequent banging reverberating throughout the cellblock. “Lunkhead. Do it quietly!” Her voice rose at the end.
She turned to follow Sadyra down the opposite tunnel, checking one side while Sadyra checked the other. Every door was unlocked.
The sound of someone hammering on a cell door spun them about. Barely visible, at the far end of the tunnel, Olmar smote a door with his boots.
Larina rolled her eyes at Sadyra and the two of them ran to their overzealous friend. Every door they passed down the right tunnel sat ajar, except the one Olmar kicked at.
“’e’s to be in ‘ere. Hurry, ‘e’s not makin’ a sound,” Olmar pleaded and stepped back to allow Larina access to the door.
Sadyra ran back to the intersection to keep watch.
“Come on, come on,” Olmar urged.
Larina tried key after key, but none of them worked. She tried them all again, sweat beading on her forehead. If she couldn’t get the door open, Olmar was likely to start pounding again and all of this would be for nothing, if they weren’t too late already.
She let out a screech of frustration and threw the keys to the ground. She rummaged through the lining of her tunic and found the shank.
It felt like forever, but suddenly the lock turned in her hand. It was all she could do to not be trampled by Olmar as he bent low and peered into the gloom. The smell of vomit, feces, and urine had them both gagging. Larina pulled a torch free of a nearby sconce and shone it into the vile smelling cell.
Huddled in the back corner, lying in the fetal position, lay Alhena. His strange white eyes were open, staring at nothing. Her breath caught in her throat.
Olmar dropped the sword and threw himself to his knees beside the old man. “Pops? Alhena?”
Alhena didn’t move.
The giant’s pathetic voice brought tears to Larina’s eyes. She placed a hand on Olmar’s huge shoulder to comfort him.
Alhena blinked.
“’e’s alive!” He looked up at Larina, his own eyes glassy, a great smile splitting his filthy face. “Ya see that, Rina? ‘e’s alive, ‘e is.”
Larina nodded, unable to force words past the lump in her throat.
As gentle as a summer breeze, Olmar lifted Alhena from the dirt and cradled his frail body to his chest. Larina stepped into the hallway, not knowing how to assist him.
Olmar stooped low to exit the cell, his concentration devoted to not crushing the old messenger within his arms while he squeezed through the cell door.
Alhena never moved. His arms and legs hung limp in Olmar’s grasp; his stare, vacant.
“What’s wrong with him, Rina? We have to get Pops to a healer.”
Larina looked into Alhena’s haunting eyes. He seemed to be in a trance. At least he was alive, if just barely. “We need to get free of this place before we do anything.”
She grabbed the discarded sword and turned to start back, but stopped. “Where’s Sadie?”
Sadyra had been keeping watch at the intersection. She wasn’t there now.
“Sadie?” Larina called out as loud as she dared. She light-footed her way to the corner and peered down the main corridor, but immediately pulled back. “Shit. Shit, shit, shit.”
Olmar clumped up to her, Alhena’s limbs waving to and fro in his embrace. The giant’s brows knitted together. “You see her?”
“Shhh, you lunkhead. There’s two turnkeys coming up the tunnel carrying crossbows,” Larina informed him, but she immediately regretted doing so. If he went off now, the guards would call down reinforcements. She put a finger to her lips and looked back down their side tunnel. There was no escape that way. She looked across the intersection, remembering that passageway came to a dead end. Her eyes went wide. Olmar’s cell! No one had bothered to pull the door shut. When the turnkeys passed it, they would see the bodies.
The scrape of the guards’ boots sounded closer. Their muted voices drifted down the tunnel. At least they didn’t sound like they were suspicious of anything yet.
As they neared, Larina made out their words.
“Should we check on the big dummy?”
“Just leave him. He’ll only start throwing himself against the door.”
“Ya, you’re right. If Jibrael hears, he’ll make us go in and shut him up.”
“Ya, no thanks. What he needs is a good clout in the chops.”
“Who, Jibrael?”
The guards laughed at that.
Larina shook her head. It never ceased to amaze her how brave people were when the person they made fun of wasn’t around. She swallowed. The guard’s footsteps sounded like they were almost on top of them.
Olmar put Alhena down. Larina handed him Tarl’s sword, silently cautioning him to wait. As big as Olmar was, he was no match for a crossbow quarrel. They would have to surprise them.
The guard’s footsteps stopped. They had to be at Olmar’s vacated cell.
Larina crouched low, with Tarl’s dagger in hand, and hazarded a peek. Sure enough, the guards were studying the door to Olmar’s cell. By some miracle, it was closed.
The taller guard put a shushing finger to his lips, and they continued walking toward the intersection.
Larina ducked behind the wall, motioning with her hands for Olmar to get ready. They were going to have to win their way free. If Alhena’s condition was any indication of how they would be treated, she’d rather die fighting.
The footsteps approached the intersection.
Larina and Olmar crouched with blades held ready, poised to spring out.
A set of hinges squealed down the main corridor. The footfalls stopped.
Larina poked her head out. Olmar’s door had swung inward. The guards had spun about, their crossbows trained on the gaping hole.
To Larina’s surprise, Sadyra stepped out from Olmar’s cell, offering the guards a demure smile. Before they had time to react, she raised her eyebrows and said, “Gentlemen, meet Olmar.”
Both men frowned. They had but a fleeting moment to appreciate their peril.
Olmar clamped his huge hands against the outside of their heads and smashed their skulls together with a resounding crack. As the guards slumped to the floor, one of the crossbows discharged.
Sadyra instinctively ducked and screeched. Had the bolt’s aim not have been thrown off, she wouldn’t have been able to avoid its flight. It ricocheted off the stone ceiling and clattered down the hallway.
Larina and Sadyra searched the unconscious men, relieving them of their sword belts, and quivers. They located two more daggers and a set of six throwing knives. Larina tossed Olmar Tarl’s knife.
Sadyra tightened the skinnier man’s sword belt around her thin waist. There was no way the other man’s belt was going to circumnavigate Olmar’s girth. Larina took it and draped it over her shoulder. It was much too wide for her thin waist.
Olmar slipped around the corner and reappeared with Alhena’s limp body in his arms. He nodded for them to get moving.
Ascending the long stairwell as quietly as Olmar’s progress would allow, Larina worried that the crossbow guards were not the two guards usually stationed at the top of the steps.
Halfway up the spiralling passage, they stopped. Cast by the faint light of the occasional sconce burning along the stairwell, a robed shadow flitted on the circular wall, descending toward them with a curved blade in hand.
There was nowhere for Olmar to put Alhena down so he backed down a few steps as Sadyra and Larina put their backs to the inside curve of the rock wall, aiming their crossbows at the space where whoever descended must come.
At the sight of the billowing red robes, Sadyra almost discharged her weapon. She assumed it was High Bishop Uzziah, but it was the peppered goatee of Vice Chambermaster Solomon’s face that gaped in surprise.
“How did you…?” Solomon started to ask. “No matter. Don’t tell me. I was on my way to come get you.”
“To do what, exactly? Chop us up?” Sadyra asked, not lowering her crossbow.
“Huh?” He lowered his scimitar. “No. To get you out of here. When I noticed that the guards at the top of the stairs weren’t at their post, I had no idea what to expect.”
“Why would you release us? You don’t even know us.” Larina stepped into the middle of the stairwell, her crossbow aimed at Solomon’s head.
Solomon nodded to the unconscious messenger as Olmar came up the steps. “I know Alhena. Quite well actually. What they did to him isn’t right.”
Olmar growled, readjusting his grip on Alhena’s limp form. “When I find out who did it, I’ll be shovin’ ‘is ‘ead up ‘is arse, that’s sure.”
Larina was thankful Olmar’s hands were full. They would be hard-pressed to prevent Olmar from throttling the chamberman.
Solomon offered the giant a knowing smile. “We don’t have time for this. If someone else discovers the guards missing, you won’t be going anywhere.”
Sadyra’s eyes found Larina’s.
Larina raised her eyebrows in a noncommittal response.
“Okay, Vice Chambermaster Io, you lead the way,” Sadyra said, making a quick decision. “You have two crossbows trained on your back. If this is a trick, you’ll get a bolt in the back of the head, you hear me?”
Solomon’s grave look confirmed that he did. He pulled aside the front of his robes, the movement almost earning him a quarrel in the chest, but he simply slid his scimitar into its sheath, turned and started up the stairwell.
The top step rounded into view. They were in luck. No one else had noticed the guard’s disappearance yet.
Solomon went first, stopping and listening for a moment. He placed a palm out to keep the others still, before stepping into the passageway. He looked right, toward the quarters housing the militia, and then left toward the fork in the passageway near the healers’ chambers, the intersection lost in distant shadows. He nodded to Sadyra, the only one visible on the stairs.
Sadyra motioned with her hand for the others to hurry past her and make their way left, following the vice chambermaster.
Solomon hurried down the passageway. He slowed down as he reached the fork and casually looked both ways. He motioned with his head for them to catch up.
Sadyra and Larina stepped into the intersection and gazed both ways. Seeing the corridor was clear they started off toward the exit shed down the left fork.
“No. Not that way,” Solomon’s hushed voice stopped them. “This way.”
“Are you crazy?” Sadyra snapped, her mood sour. “The exit’s this way.”
Olmar scowled down at the vice chambermaster.
“You can’t go that way. There are guards posted outside the exit. I know another way.”
Larina cast Sadyra a doubtful glance.
Sadyra walked back to confront Solomon, raising herself on her toes, placing her face inches from his. The dead guard’s dagger appeared in her left hand. “If this is a trick, I’ll gut you.”
Solomon stepped back and swallowed, his eyes never leaving the knife. “You have to trust me. If you don’t get out of here soon, you’ll be recaptured and killed. As for him,” he nodded to Alhena’s limp form, “I shudder to think about what else they have planned.”
Olmar growled.
“Not me,” Solomon put up his hands, “but, if you want to live, you must trust me.” Without waiting for their response, he strode with purpose to the three healer’s doors beyond the tunnel fork on the left wall. He paused before the last door. Rummaging through the folds of his robes, he produced a golden key and unlocked it. The door swung outward without a sound. He reached out and grabbed a torch burning between the last two doors and disappeared into the room.
Sadyra bit her lower lip. “A healer? Makes sense.”
A cough sounded from down the tunnel behind them. Everyone hurried after the vice chambermaster.
The healer’s chamber was like any other. A small bed, a nightstand with stubby candles stuck to its surface, and nothing else, other than wall hangings of religious scenes covering the chiseled rock walls, more to stave off the chill from the rock than to provide an artistic flair. A lumpy burlap sack lay on the bed.
“Where’s da healer?” Olmar asked, his great frame stooped to fit into the chamber. “Alhena needs a healer.”
“No time for that. If Jibrael finds you, you’ll be needing a grave digger,” Solomon said, and shoved the bed away from the far wall. He pulled back a wall hanging and, careful not to get the torch too close to the tapestry, slid behind it and felt about the wall.
Larina helped Omar unload Alhena onto the bed to give his arms a break.
Sadyra took one last look down the corridor and pulled the door closed. She searched the room. “Oh great. We’re trapped.”
A faint ‘snick’ sounded from the corner of the room and the tapestry fell flat against the wall. Solomon had disappeared.
Larina ripped the wall hanging aside to be met by a blast of cold air.
Solomon stood on the landing of a slender stairwell that dropped out of sight into darkness below. “Here. Take the torch.”
Larina stepped onto the landing and relieved the vice chambermaster of the brand. Thin, roughly hewn steps descended well beyond the torch’s light. “Where’s it go?”
Solomon squeezed by her and pushed back into the room. He held the tapestry out and signalled for Olmar and Sadyra to follow Larina. As he waited for Olmar to gather up Alhena, he said, “It’s a long tunnel. I can’t really say when it was last used. I won’t lie to you. I was through it about twenty years ago, and even then, it wasn’t in great shape. I just hope it hasn’t suffered a major cave in.”
Sadyra let Olmar duck into the yawning hole. She raised her eyebrows at Solomon, indicating that he should go next.
Solomon shook his head. “Oh no. I need to remain behind to keep an eye on the Chamber. You must get back to Madrigail Bay. Gather whatever forces you can and sail south to Apexceal. My brother is the baron. Tell him what’s happened here. Tell him the Chamber is compromised. He’ll know what to do.”
Sadyra pointed at him with the dagger. “If this is some kind of treachery, know this. I’ll come back for you.”
Solomon gave her a placating smile. “There is no treachery, I assur
e you. I wish Alhena were awake to allay your fears.”
“Convenient for you that he isn’t, hmm?” Sadyra bumped past the vice chambermaster, shoving him accidentally on purpose against the unforgiving wall.
Solomon ignored the act. He raised his voice to catch everyone’s attention. “It’s imperative you do not fail. Helleden has combined forces with the Kraidic Empire. They march south as we speak. I’ve learned they plan on eradicating all resistance above the Undying Wall before continuing south. You’ll be hard-pressed to get back to Madrigail Bay in time as it is.” He reached out and pulled the sack from the bed and shoved it at Sadyra. “Some food.”
Sadyra digested his words and grabbed the sack. She put the food bag down and stepped back into the room before Solomon could release the tapestry. “You never answered Larina about the tunnel.”
“The tunnel?”
“Where’s it go?”
“It’ll take you many leagues underground. Far from here. No one will follow, I assure you.”
Sadyra got right into his face, placing the dagger against his breastbone. “Where. Does. It. Go?”
Solomon swallowed. “To the banks of the Torpid Marsh.”
Serpent’s Eye
Karvus stormed about the emperor’s pavilion. Kill the Wizard of the North? How did that pasty-faced enchanter expect him to do that?
Faux and another one of his father’s concubines did their best to stay out of his way as they stowed the tent’s contents into large trunks lining the tarpaulin walls. He hated how they watched him from the corner of their eyes, presumably afraid that he might erupt in violence.
Helleden’s commanders had assumed control of the Kraidic army and were mobilizing the combined army for a forced march on Castle Svelte. His scouts had reported that King Malcolm forces made it back to Carillon before the maelstrom. The king had survived and was calling the remainder of his depleted regiments together. It was Helleden’s hope to crush the resistance before it became a concern.
Soul Forge Saga Box Set Page 55
