by David Rice
Squinting past his nearest kin, Grumm could see a line of survivors hustling hodgepodge towards the cave mouth. He grinned and yelled encouragement. Then the light of the moons winked from existence, and the hill was blasted with purple flame. There was no time for screams, and the trees themselves whistled and burst in the infernal heat.
The concussion drove Grumm from his feet and sent him careening backwards.
Olaf stood straighter. He pointed to the darkness angling down.“Grab Grumm and get down this hole now!”
Eyes wide as saucers, the four dwarves hefted Grumm like a bin of ore and plunged into the unknown. Olaf felt the immense heat rush into the cave, nearly robbing him of breath. With an unexpected prayer fumbling from his lips, he gripped the gem’s pouch in a suicide grip and dove after them.
The shafts of light from the gem tumbled, slid and rolled alongside their travel down a twisting tunnel of blunt edges and spider webs. With a series of soft crashes, they landed in a larger tunnel carpeted with luminescent yellow moss. A rampant storm of dwarven cursing told Olaf that they had survived the descent.
Grumm stood first, frowning, and looked both directions. “Are we where I think we are?” he asked slowly.
“Couldn’t be worse that where we were,” Olaf replied.
Grumm helped the others to their feet. “I dunno about that. Maybe one of you do?”
The dwarf with the blooded beard squared his shoulders and squinted hard at the moss. “I was with Beru when we came this way before,” he said. “If we’re lucky, there’s no lifebane between Thunderwall an’ here.”
“Lifebane?” Olaf replied. “Like goblins a’ kobolds? We’ve handled those before.”
Grumm riveted Olaf with a stare. “He’s saying it’s the Yarrol Maze we’re in. An’ what chased them cycles ago could still be around.” He turned to the Flintedge dwarf. “What chased ye exactly?”
“The big ones. Trolls,” he replied. “But we can hope that they still haven’t figured out a path past the lake.”
“Hmmph. Which way?”
The wounded dwarf looked at the moss once more and ponted to some light scuffing along the rocks. “That way.” He pointed northeast, away from Thunderwall.
“Ye sure?” Grumm scowled.
“It’s called a maze for a reason, Grumm,” the guide grumbled. “an’ I know the way.”
Grumm nodded. “Stay close no matter what. Call out if ye feel like yer falling behind.”
The guide nodded. He pulled a sack of small dark beans from his belt pouch. “Gavva. Share ‘em. They’ll keep you awake. If anything is in these tunnels, its best to keep moving until we get where we’re going.”
The dwarves set their jaws and began their long march in the dark.
“How long, exactly,” Olaf asked.
The guide chuckled. “Four or five days if we don’t stop and’ if there’s no trouble.”
Olaf shuddered. His feet would never forgive him.
XXXVII
Staring out from his battlements with the blue sky hosting puffs of cloud and the fields dark brown with first tilling, Duke Wyntress should have been beaming with pride. Instead, he looked exceedingly uncomfortable. The watch commander had summoned him as soon as the colours of Baron Egrant were spotted along the King’s Road.
“How many?”
The Captain peered through the telescope. “Sixty or more, Your Grace. Four wagons and twenty mounted.”
“How long until they arrive?”
The Captain shrugged. “They’re not in a hurry, Your Grace. Likely taking it easy on their horses and such. Probably before lunch.”
“And they’ll be expecting lunch, won’t they?” the Duke stated.
“Would you like me to have the kitchens and quartermasters prepare for their arrival, Your Grace?”
Wyntress opened his mouth to give the order and then stopped. He shook his head and frowned. “No, Captain. I’ll pass that order along myself. Sound a bugle call if they speed up, will you?”
“As you wish, Your Grace.”
Wyntress nodded once and then hurried down the spiraling stairs. He had to warn an old friend of this unwelcome arrival.
***
Alain and Balinor had spotted the small group of mounted soldiers just after dawn. They were encamped west of the King’s road and seemed in no hurry to leave.
“You think Edrie was taken in by these?” Balinor asked.
Alain nodded. “If she hasn’t been eaten by wolves already, that’s where she’d be.”
Balinor pursed his lips. “I recognize that one set of colours. First Hussars. Duke Arundy’s old regiment.”
“The other colours are Gow’s. The Marshall’s Guard,” Alain added. “Judging by the armoured wagon with the gold and green, it looks like they have a courier riding with them, too.”
His eyes lost themselves in bitter memories. “They could be the same soldiers who—”
“Can’t exactly make their job easy for them, can we,” Balinor stated.
Alain grunted. “Only place they could be going is where we’re going.”
Balinor took a deep breath and paused to think. “They’ll stick to the road. We can swing around behind them so they don’t see our tracks, cut west and make better time along the canal.”
“I don’t know,” Alain pondered. “I haven’t been out here before. You have?”
“Never one to stay bored. Vargas and I did a bunch of roaming when we were with Arundy at Wyntress Keep.”
“Scouting,” Alain commented. “An army’s useless without good scouts.” He paused before speaking again.
“Alright. Lead on.”
Balinor grinned. “Not much of an army, just the two of us.”
Alain was lost in memories once more.
Balinor patted him on the shoulder. “Let’s get moving. We’ll get there in time, don’t worry.”
Alain frowned. “It’s an officer’s job to worry.”
“That’s why I could never enlist,” Balinor chuckled to himself. “Enough to worry about already.”
Quietly they retreated down the slope and began their curving route northwest.
***
Wyntress stood nervously in front of his fellow Duke and slapped his hands together. “That’s it, then. You’ve got to hide yourself away in my keep and I’ll do my best to pass off your folks as mine, or survivors from Stronn’s lands.”
Arundy shook his head. “There’ll be trouble. Egrant’s been here before scraping together conscripts. He’s seen how many workers you have. He’ll take any extra for Gow’s camps.”
“Well,” Wyntress sputtered. “What can we do about it then?”
Arundy scratched his beard. “Before lunch, you said?”
Wyntress nodded.
“Keep his men inside the grounds of your keep. I’ll give my people the option to stay with you and accept what comes of it, or go with me.”
“Go?” Wyntress exclaimed. “Go where? And how can you just sneak away?”
“There’s a line of hills to the east,” Arundy pointed past his tent. “All we need to do is get there and we’ll never be seen.”
“But you’ll be seen from the battlements,” Wyntress started.
Arundy winked. “Don’t give them a tour of the battlements until tomorrow. We’ll be long gone by then and not your problem anymore.”
Wyntress took a deep breath. “What if we could swing Egrant to our cause?”
Arundy shook his head. “Men like that only jump from sinking ships.”
Wyntress scowled. “All right. Have your meeting. Have any who are staying come in from the direction of the fields like they’ve been working.”
“Good, Wyntress, good,” Arundy smiled. “Our time will come. We’ll do right for the realm. It’s just not that time yet.”
***
Balinor was surprised by how far to the east the gnomes had dug their canals. Spring rains and runoff from the foothills had turned the unfinished canal sides to slopes o
f mud and the bottom to a quagmire clogged with sticks and dead grass. He took comfort in knowing that they were far enough from the King’s Road to travel quickly with little worry of being intercepted by any of Egrant’s patrols. They were in a race to reach Wyntress Keep before the stolen messages so each day they rode as far as their horse would allow. To the south, the blackened hills and vinyards of Stronn’s abandoned lands hovered on the horizon. This was also where the gnomes had abandoned their great work just short of their link to Stronn and the riches of the Rajala. The canal would soon taper into the beginnings of roughly hewn irrigation trenches. On one of his rides around the edges of the Wyntress lands, Balinor had seen these same ditches from their western end and now it had given him an idea. They would soon reach the canal’s end where Wyntress Keep would only be a day away.
“Look to the east,” Alain called out.
Balinor swung around to peer towards the line of mountains, misty grey under a rising sun. A silver spark in the midst of the foothills caught the sun vividly and flashed.
“Should we look?” Alain prompted.
Balinor judged the distance. “It will add half a day. Could be nothing at all. A pond.”
Alain frowned. “It’s been gleaming the same way for a while now, even as the sun shifts. If it was a pond, I would think it a strange one to be tilted so.”
Balinor chuckled briefly but shook his head. “I don’t like risking the Duke.”
Alain kept squinting. “I think there’s a pattern to the flashes, though.”
“Who would do that? Soldiers?”
“No,” Alain’s voice gained an edge as half-forgotten observations of Thunderwall’s citizens resurfaced. “Dwarves,” he said. “Maybe young ones coming back from their
Bildugsroam.”
“Bill dug what?” Balinor chuckled again. “I think your imagination is getting the best of you.”
Alain scowled as he watched the pattern repeat a second time. “Bildugsroam. A journey of self-discovery. A coming of age for young men. But I’m rather certain of it now. Those are dwarves in trouble.”
Balinor sighed. “We’d be stupid to split up in these hills.”
Alain grinned. “Good. I was hoping you’d come with me.”
Reluctantly, Balinor turned the horse and cart to the west, homing in upon the sparkling light like a distant star.
***
Arundy stood atop a small rise just inside the livestock fences and watched his people approach. They came in twos or threes, some quickly, some tentatively, and with every step their whispers faded until they stood before him in the spring wind, squinting against a climbing sun.
Arundy let a sigh of relief escape when he recognized Robi Tork near the edge, her arms lightly wrapped around Leonara who was, as always, fidgeting and frowning. He scanned the crowd for his second in command, Hollis, but could not see him. Perhaps rounding up stragglers, he concluded.
“We were just starting to work,” Baris the smith called out. “Why’d ya order us all away? Hollis said it was important.”
Arundy cleared his throat to speak in a voice he hadn’t used in cycles. “Good people. We’ve travelled long and survived much and I’ve wanted to give you better than you’ve received so far. This is why I’ve called you here.”
“What do you mean? Do we get to stay here now and build some real homes?”
A mother of four raised her voice. Arundy recognized her as the sheep shearer, Lois Degrande. “Do we finally get to go home?”
Whispers burst through the crowd. Her children raised their dusty faces for a reply.
“Baron Egrant and his company of soldiers will be here this afternoon,” Arundy responded.
The whispers rose to a storm.
“And we all know what that means,” Arundy added
“They’ll send us to the camps,” Baris replied. “I won’t go.”
Many agreed with the smith.
“I want to give you a choice. Duke Wyntress has been more than gracious giving us refuge. He appreciates how your unwavering spirits and hard work have contributed to the strength of his lands and, in return, he is extending his goodwill once more.”
“Get to it, Your Grace,” Baris stated. “Beggars such as us rarely get to choose. What’s the bargain this time?”
Arundy acknowledged Baris’s leadership with a nod. “Those of you choosing to stay here will have to pass yourself off as always being Wyntress’s folk, and take your chances with Egrant’s whims. The rest of you can choose to follow me east into the foothills to forge our own path as the One desires.”
Whispers erupted to grumbling arguments.
“We don’t have the look or the tongue o’ the locals,” Baris grumbled. “Be foolish to stay here. We’d just make a mess o’ trouble for the Duke Stronn.”
“What about the drakes? We know what they did to Duke Stronn’s lands, an’ they’re to the east.”
“People been saying Graniteside was attacked by drakes, too,” another worker called out.
“Rubbish!”
“Gossip!”
“It’s true, I tell ya all!”
Arundy swallowed once as he absorbed the news. “It seems,” he began, “that drakes have a taste for taller structures.”
“Yeah, we all found that out the hard way.”
Baris turned on the grumbling mother. Her eyes were full of fear, and she held her three children close. He softened his voice. “Our Duke looked that Drake in the face. Was ready to give his life to save us all.”
The woman lowered her head.
“Perhaps the trail is the safer choice?” Arundy suggested.
“So, there’s no going back to our home in the Highlands?” Lois’s voice was sharp with worry.
“Perhaps on another day, Ma’am,” Arundy responded gently. Behind his calm expression, his mind buzzed with uncertainty. He knew that the loyalties of other dukes would be shifting right up until the moment they could move against the King. If they ever had enough support. “When the opportunity presents itself more clearly.”
“My children have suffered enough on the trail,” she replied. “I can’t speak for the others but if I can have a roof over my head here, I’ll take it.”
Arundy nodded patiently. “As I said it is your choice to make. I will be leaving before noon. Those of you wishing to travel with me, I thank you in advance. Bring what you can for another long journey and meet me here before the sun is highest.”
The crowd drifted away leaving Robi Tork and the orphan Leah standing alone. Arundy descended towards them and tried to smile.
“We have to leave with you, don’t we?” Robi frowned, her eyes red with worry.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Leonara spouted and stomped. “I used to live in Graniteside and you’re not my parents and I’m old enough to make choices for myself.”
Arundy paused and took a deep breath. When he locked eyes with Leonara, this young lady he recognized with a gasp, he brushed a tear from his hardening stare. “There’s more to this than you know,” he whispered sternly.
“You said we have a choice,” she challenged.
“I tried to explain to her as best I could,” Robi added.
“Leah. Leonara,” Arundy corrected himself. “If you stay you may never have the life you want most. You might never even be able to live with any safety at all.”
Leonara scoffed. “What are you talking about? That makes no sense. This Keep is nothing special but it’s better than a tent. I’m almost old enough to be married and the Duke has some younger sons just a bit older than me—”
Robi Tork rolled her eyes. “It’s the uniforms she fancies,” she said.
Leonara blushed and her voice rose. “Don’t you put me down.”
Robi’s eyes flashed and she whirled to face the girl.
Arundy intervened with a sharp “Leah. Shush.”
Leonara bit her lip and looked up at the Duke, her face warped with anger. “I hate that name,” she grumbled. “Th
at’s not my name. I don’t want to be called that anymore.”
Arundy knew there was fear in her, too. It was the fear that fed her anger. More than she recognized.
If you stay, you’ll never marry a Duke’s son. That isn’t the way.”
“You don’t know that,” Leonara grumbled.
“That is the way of things, you impetuous girl,” Robi corrected.
