The dragon’s voice was silent. The dragons’ faculties were impressive, but there were limits.
“We’re too far inside the mountain. Let’s get outside. Everyone stick together.”
They followed their own tracks through the dust and emerged back into the large main hall. Every few feet they’d all hear a cry of anguish as Kasnar spotted example after example of Nar’s desecration by the Delvehearth family.
“A pox on that accursed family,” Kasnar muttered softly to himself. “No amount of punishment is fit for the crimes this city has suffered.”
“What about what they did to you?” Lukas asked, looking up at the old man riding on his uncle’s back. “They kept you here for so long. Aren’t you angry about that?”
“Aye, I am, young master,” Kasnar admitted as he smiled down at the underling. “I forgave the Delvehearths years ago.”
“Why?” the underling inquired.
“Because I was raised to see the good in everyone, no matter how foul the person. They imprisoned me, aye. They kept me away from my family, aye. I choose not to dwell on that. Instead, I look forward to seeing my beloved Neika again. I yearn to see my son again, and get to know any other family members I haven’t met. For that matter, I look forward to getting to know Breslin here. He was but a very young lad when I left.”
“You will, grandfather,” Breslin called back from the front of their group. “You will. I promise.”
Emerging into the rapidly enlightening room, Breslin came to a sudden stop. He held up his arm and signaled the others to stop as well. Standing in front of the main door, blocking any attempts of escape, were five dwarves. All were outfitted in confiscated Narian armor and all had crossbows drawn, loaded, and ready to fire. All five were aimed straight at them.
“That’s far enough,” a gruff voice barked out at them. “Lay down your arms and surrender before we turn you into a pincushion.”
Chapter 13 – Just Say No to Bullying
The first thing Venk noticed was that the owner of the voice was wearing a set of Narian armor that was encrusted with glittering diamonds and sapphires. It had to be the most exquisite suit of armor he had ever seen. To Venk, it looked as though the armor was meant to be displayed rather than worn. Also immediately apparent was that the five angry dwarves facing them hadn’t known how to properly assemble the complex suit of armor.
The cuirasses weren’t sitting snug against their chests, the greaves hung loosely against their legs, and even the gauntlets threatened to slide off their arms as they could see several of the metal gloves constantly clanking about as if they were several sizes too large. If Venk didn’t know any better, he would have guessed that this was the first time any of them had ever worn a suit of armor other than the customary leather armor most dwarves were fond of. What had happened? Had Rahygren discovered their presence in the city and then returned to Bykram to get reinforcements?
The second thing Venk noticed was a large device set up on a tripod. It was big, bulky, and, Venk thought with mild surprise, gave the impression of a device that had been created to do dastardly deeds. It had a long, cylindrical barrel consisting of straight metal tubes that were attached to each other, forming the perimeter of the barrel. The ring of metal tubes was at least three feet long and overall, the device extended several feet above their heads.
Venk squinted as he studied the wicked looking device. One end of the barrel was pointed straight at them, while the other end of the barrel disappeared into the heart of the machine. Next to the barrel’s base was what looked like a hand crank. One of Rahygren’s henchmen had a hand on this handle. Stacked nearby were a dozen or so wooden crates. Venk nodded. He was right. This thing had been created for sinister purposes.
“I see you admiring my arrow launcher,” the lead dwarf gloated. “It has the capabilities of firing dozens of arrows a minute while you’ll be lucky to get off a few shots. Just one of the many lucrative discoveries I’ve found in here. Now, for the last time, surrender!”
The other two henchmen were each holding a dense, compact shield a quarter of the size of a normal shield. Both shields were an ugly tarnished bronze color and had seen better days as each shield had scuffs, dents, and several scratches. Each henchman held their shield as though it alone was what was keeping them alive.
“You must be Rahygren,” Breslin spat out, standing up to his full height. He pulled the power hammer from his belt and held it menacingly. “I hold you and your family responsible for desecrating the lost city of Nar. We will not be the ones surrendering. You will.”
Rahygren lost his smug smile as his eyes fell on the power hammer. He started sputtering so bad that no one could understand him.
“How did you… Where did you… I don’t know how you… New plan. You give me that hammer there and I’ll let you choose the manner in which you die. That is my one and only offer to you.”
Sensing the situation was about to get violent, the two henchmen on either side of Rahygren held up their shields. After a few seconds of silence, both shields emitted several pinging noises as they began expanding their size. Moments later each shield was easily three times the size of a normal shield and twice as massive. Unfortunately, both henchmen had their arms forcibly yanked down to the ground as both discovered that neither could carry a shield of that size and weight.
Venk eyed Breslin, who returned his puzzled expression. Hadn’t these people ever used this equipment before? If so then wouldn’t they have known how big those shields would have become and therefore would have been better prepared? Instead, both of Rahygren’s accomplices were now trying to lift the shields off the ground and wield them like they would have done a normal shield. However, as strong as most dwarves were, they were unable to lift the heavy shield more than a few inches off the ground and even then, only for a few moments.
“What’s going on here?” Athos whispered to his brother. “Were those things designed for the humans? This doesn’t make any sense.”
“It makes perfect sense,” Breslin whispered back. “I’m willing to bet they’ve never stepped foot in Nar before.”
“Nonsense,” Tristofer argued, as he and Lukas inched closer. “They obviously have.”
“Rahygren has, aye, but not them,” Breslin argued. “Look at them! They’re lost! They keep looking about the cavern as though they’ve never seen it before. And, I’m quite sure they haven’t.”
Understanding, Athos nodded. “Hired mercenaries.”
Breslin nodded. He turned back to his grandfather’s captor. He nodded his head towards the two men still grappling with the cumbersome shields.
“Having technical difficulties, are you?”
Rahygren’s annoyed face turned livid with rage. “Enough talk! Kill them! Kill them all! Leave no survivors!”
One of the two henchmen wielding one of the giant, useless shields, suddenly squatted and reached down to his belt to pull off an oblong object the size of a clenched fist. He tinkered with it for a second or two before it began ticking loudly. Quickly rising to his feet, he looked straight at Breslin and threw the object directly at him.
The ticking device began expanding in size much the same way the shields did. In just a matter of a few seconds the object had turned into a boulder large enough to be thrown from a trebuchet. It was going to hit Breslin at any moment.
Venk watched as Breslin calmly stood his ground as the artificial boulder approached. Gripping the power hammer tightly, he waited until the boulder was directly upon him, swinging just before the metal boulder could make contact. There was a loud clang and the boulder suddenly reversed directions, heading back the way it had come. The henchman who had thrown the boulder watched in utter disbelief as the huge metal object flew unerringly straight towards him. Before he could think to run away, the boulder landed on him with a great crashing of metal. Thankfully the indestructible Narian armor refused to be crushed, thus sparing the henchman’s life. Fortunately for them it meant the goon was now pinn
ed and unable to move.
“What are you waiting for?” Rahygren demanded as he swung his gaze back to the arrow shooter. “Fire! Kill them!”
The accomplice standing next to the arrow shooter began cranking the handle. The metal tubes started to spin. Suddenly the air was filled with arrows whooshing by at an alarming rate. The thug was enjoying the power of the device had bestowed upon him as an evil smile had appeared on his face. The shooter spun to the left and sighted Lukas, standing next to Tristofer and Breslin.
Small nuggets of stone flew through the air as dozens of arrows slammed into the rock wall. Unfortunately, the arrows were getting dangerously close as the thug manning the apparatus had aimed it their way. Venk had to get to his son to protect him!
He hurried towards Lukas, intent on throwing himself into the line of fire if necessary, but it turned out he didn’t have to. Breslin stepped in front of the boy and took the full brunt of the relentless attack. Arrow after arrow struck Breslin on his chest, pummeling him hard enough that he had to take a few steps backward. However, thanks to a set of armor that had been in his family for years (and now that Venk had heard the old dwarf’s tale, knew how Breslin had acquired it) the arrows fell harmlessly to the ground. Not only was the armor not receiving the slightest blemish from the relentless assault of arrows, it also appeared to be absorbing the impacts, so there was no threat of ricocheting arrows.
Puzzled by the lack of injury his weapon should have been inflicting, the accomplice manning the arrow shooter looked to Rahygren for advice.
“Don’t stop firing, moron!” Rahygren screamed at his accomplice. “Keep going!”
“So that’s why your armor never appears dented,” Athos observed, appearing at Breslin’s side. “It’s Narian!”
Breslin shrugged. “It’s a little known secret. One that I trust you will keep to yourself?”
Athos nodded. He caught sight of the shooter being reloaded. Athos hooked an arm through Breslin’s and picked up his nephew. He looked at Tristofer and shoved him forward with his shoulder.
“Move, scholar! Find cover! Hurry before that infernal machine starts up again! Venk! Get over here, now!”
Right on cue, the arrows began appearing again, zipping by dangerously close. Athos steered them towards a group of large, crumbling slabs of stone that might have been used for tables at some point in time. Athos squatted and hooked his shoulder under the slab; Venk mirrored his actions a few moments later. They both heaved, fully expecting the table to tip onto its side. It didn’t budge.
“Breslin!” Venk snapped. “We need to tip this thing over! Hurry!”
Breslin whipped out the power hammer and gave the stone slab a solid thunk, thinking it’d be more than adequate to get the job done. The resulting blow didn’t knock the table over, but it did start a series of spidery cracks that crisscrossed across the surface. Moments later the table collapsed into a pile of gravel.
With a curse, Venk pulled his son close and crouched low behind a second table.
“Just knock it over,” Venk told Breslin. “You don’t need to destroy it.”
Breslin harrumphed and readied a swing. The deadly arrows were rapidly approaching as the arrow shooter was adjusted yet again. They had perhaps three seconds before they’d be in serious trouble. Breslin dropped to his knees and swung at one of the three supports holding the slab off the floor. The left support shattered instantly. The slab lurched forward, but still held under the weight of the other two stone support pillars. Breslin pummeled the right and tapped the hammer against the center. The second broke while the center pillar started cracking noisily. Moments later, off balance, the front part of the slab slid forward and smacked heavily onto the ground while the rear of the table remained upright, held in place by the last support column.
All five of them ducked behind the table as the barrage of arrows began pounding away at their makeshift cover.
“We’re not going to last long if we don’t do something!” Athos angrily told them. “Think they’re going to run out of arrows? Think again. See all those nearby boxes? I just watched them reload that device of theirs. They have hundreds and hundreds of arrows.”
Breslin tried to peek up and over the lip of their upturned table but had to dart back down again as three arrows were instantly fired his way.
“I’m open for suggestions.”
Tristofer pushed his way past Venk and Athos and grabbed Breslin’s arm. Maintaining a surprisingly strong grip on his arm, the scholar yanked him over to where he had been crouched.
“What are you doing? Blast it, Tristofer, I don’t have time for this! We must – what is all of this?”
Breslin had finally noticed several rows of mathematical calculations scrawled out on the stone floor. Also visible was a big black X that had been marked on the wall. Curiosity getting the better of him, Breslin turned back to the scholar and noticed that Tristofer’s hands were black. In fact, his right hand still clutched a lump of charcoal he must have fished out of one of his pockets. Tristofer pointed at the X.
“Here! Quickly! Hit this spot with your hammer!”
“What? Tristofer, we don’t –”
“Stop arguing with me and for once, do as I say! Hit it! Now!!”
Gritting his teeth, Breslin cocked his arm and swung a good, solid blow at the wall, directly on the X. Such was the force of the blow that the surface of the wall with the X on it completely broke apart and tumbled to the ground, followed closely by a larger chunk of the wall. Then they heard snapping and cracking as a set of cracks snaked up the wall towards the cavern’s ceiling. Not stopping there, the cracks continued across, knocking loose several large stalactites unlucky enough to be in the way. One particularly large stalactite also lay in the approaching crack’s path. After appearing as though the enormous stalactite had successfully stopped the cracking rock’s noisy progress across the ceiling, the jagged line reappeared on the other side of the rock formation and continued towards the far side of the cavern.
The stalactite suddenly tipped to the left and dropped down a foot or so. The rock anchoring the stalactite to the ceiling continued to break until it finally surrendered the battle and relinquished its grip on the stony icicle. With a loud crack, it fell from the ceiling and plummeted straight down, destroying everything in its path. Fortunately for Breslin and his companions, the arrow shooter was sitting directly below it.
Rahygren’s henchman dove out of the way just as several tons of calcium carbonate crushed the Narian apparatus flat.
While Rahygren cursed and swore at his bad luck, Breslin shooed everyone through an open door leading to a small courtyard. Silently they ran, retracing their steps back to the imperial palace.
“We only have a few minutes while Rahygren regroups,” Breslin warned, easily matching the sprint that Venk and Athos had set.
With Kasnar still strapped securely to his back, Athos snatched up his nephew and tossed him to his brother. Venk slung Lukas over his shoulder and ran. Not even Kasnar’s extra weight, or Lukas’, could have slowed the two brothers down as they sprinted through the deserted streets. On and on they ran, stopping only long enough for Breslin to unlock a sealed door they had come across. Once they were all through, Tristofer called out to his companions.
“Wait a moment.” He was clutching at a painful stitch in his side and couldn’t seem to catch his breath. “There weren’t any sealed doors on the way to the palace last time. We must have made a wrong turn somewhere.”
“Would you like to go back and see whereabouts we went wrong?” Breslin sarcastically asked. He, too, was panting heavily. Dwarves, with their short legs, just weren’t meant for running.
“I’m closing this door,” Athos declared. He pushed the circular door closed and once he verified it wouldn’t open unless one had a ruby helix, like the one on Breslin’s hammer, he turned to his companions. “So if we’re lost, how do we find the palace?”
“If you would have listened to me, this wouldn�
��t have happened.”
Athos twisted his head to look over his right shoulder.
“What did you say, old man?”
Kasnar cuffed Athos on the back of his head, knocking his helmet down over his eyes.
“I tried to tell you before we were headed the wrong way but you didn’t pay attention.”
Athos growled as he tipped his helmet back into place.
“Then speak up. Everyone’s running. I’m running. Unless you shout it out, I won’t be able to hear you. Do you know which way to the palace or not?”
Kasnar smacked Athos’ helmet again, once more causing his vision to be blocked.
“There’s no need to be rude, Master Athos. Turn left here, then follow the street east. It’ll lead straight to the palace.”
“How do you know?” Venk asked, careful to stand far enough away from his brother so that he was out of Kasnar’s reach.
The frail dwarf pointed at a nearby sign, covered with unfamiliar symbols.
“Because the sign says so.”
“It could say anything,” Tristofer protested, unhappy he wasn’t able to read the Narian script. “You could just be making this up.”
Kasnar leaned forward and peered at Tristofer closely.
“Aren’t you a scholar? How can you be a professed expert on Narian culture and not be able to read a simple sign that says, ‘This way to the palace’? It’s the first thing I learned how to do. If you can understand archaic dwarfish, then Narian script should not be that far off.”
“Archaic dwarfish? Is that why the script looks familiar?”
Kasnar looked down at Athos and leaned over to whisper in his ear.
“How long have you had to travel with him?”
Athos snorted so loudly that his own exhaled breath shook his mustache, which promptly tickled his nose.
“Gah! Stop that!”
While Athos rubbed his nose to get the prickly sensations to pass, Breslin turned to look back the way they had come. Thankfully no one could hear any indications they were being pursued. However, chances were that Rahygren and his men had probably guessed that they intended to hole up in the palace and more than likely knew the direct route there. Breslin and his companions had unwisely chosen the scenic route.
Lost City Page 31
