by RG Long
In response, she only shook her head.
“I’d rather not,” she repeated after Blume began to explain that it wouldn’t be a big deal.
“I’ve done it plenty of times before,” Blume reasoned. “You just have to hold my hand and...”
“I’d rather not!” Olma said, much louder than the last two times. She held herself steady and shook her head forcibly.
Blume was taken aback. She put out the hand she had been using to hold her ring to Olma.
“Are you ok?”
She had barely gotten the sentence out before Olma tried to take another step back. She was running out of roof. There was a moment where she looked to Blume like she was going to lose her balance. Blume took two steps forward to help her not fall over the edge.
“No! Don’t touch me!” Olma shouted.
Blume stopped short, her hand still outstretched. Slowly, she brought it back to her chest.
“Oh...” she began. “I’m sorry.”
Blume didn’t know what to do. Was Olma afraid of her? She was certainly acting like she was. What was she fearful of?
“Maybe,” Blume began, caught off guard and unsure of what exactly to say. “Maybe we can wait up here for the guards to clear out? Then we can make our way to the wall?”
Olma nodded, but she didn't look at Blume. She was looking down at the streets, where the guards from the palace and the Temple were still milling about, all around the stalls and vendors who were beginning to pack up their wares.
Blume looked sideways at the top of the roof, saw a barrel that looked long forgotten, and sat beside it. She didn't know what to think at that moment, but she was certainly sure of one thing.
They had both lost their parents at a young age. They had both been taken care of by the same group of people and were strong, capable young girls.
But maybe they were more different than she thought.
The chill wind that blew over her made her feel more than lonely.
24: Subterfuge
Even though the suns were coming up gently over the horizon, the city of Meris was anything except in a state of calm. What with their explosive escape from the prison of the prince and the pursuit through the streets by the guards that followed, the whole city knew something was very wrong.
And Ealrin was getting worried.
Light was filling up the small space they had found for shelter. It was another old and run down building that Meris seemed to have in plenty. This one was not an old shop, but rather a former residence. The people who had lived there must have been very poor. There was hardly any furniture and the walls were bare. One short table with three chairs and a bed was all the space had. If Jurrin reached out his hands and Ealrin did his own, they could touch fingers to the wall and hold hands as well.
And Jurrin had fairly short arms.
They had crammed themselves here because the space had an exit behind as well as a second level that was accessed from a ladder. Mas, Maccus, and Tratta were all up there. Holve, Jurrin, Gorplin, and Ealrin were down in the lower level.
The other two of Holve’s contacts, the ones who had helped them break into the prince’s palace, were out scouting around for Blume and Olma. They knew the city best and could find their way back here easily. Donald didn’t seem too concerned. Gregory just huffed and shrugged as they left.
Holve was a wanted man in every kingdom the Theocracy had reign over.
At least they were only criminals here in Meris.
Ealrin was just about to stand and stretch when he heard footsteps outside. Holve and the others must have heard them too because they each sat up. Holve had his hand up, silencing them.
“It’s alright,” came Tratta’s voice from above. “It’s our people.”
“Bah,” Gorplin grunted. “Our people? Who does she think she is?”
“Someone in my network,” Holve said, looking through a crack in the door.
“What bloody network?” Gorplin said, but Holve cut him off with a quick shush.
Ealrin got ready to put himself bodily between the dwarf and Holve. Gorplin was not one to take being shushed well. Whatever reaction he may have had, however, was drowned out by the door being forcibly opened and Holve jumping to his feet and gripping his sword.
It really was their group at the door, but the manner of its opening startled Ealrin as well.
“We found them both, but you should leave right away,” came the rough voice of Gregory.
“Guards are not happy about the break out,” Donald said matter-of-factly. “And we saw the prince. He’s as livid as the priest about all this. For once it seems they can agree on something.”
Shuffling above told Ealrin the others had heard and were making good on time. Before he could get himself upright, Maccus and Tratta were already down the stairs.
“Don’t leave the cooking supplies!” Mas grunted after them. “I swear you’d starve without me.”
Ealrin stood and, trying to ignore the stiffness in his legs from sitting down all night instead of actually resting, walked outside the door. The area around them was bleak and deserted. Not very many people made this part of town their home anymore. Those that did seemed quite alright with keeping themselves hidden and out of sight.
The street was narrow, like most everything in this section. Their traveling group took up a considerable part of it once they were all out and in the open. Ealrin stepped forward and reached out for Blume. She returned his embrace half-heartedly.
“You ok?” he asked, pulling her away. She felt cold. He wished he had something to wrap her up with.
“Fine,” she answered back without looking up at him.
“We got separated after those guards came around,” Olma said, rubbing her arms to give herself some warmth. “They found us trying to move from rooftop to rooftop.”
Donald chuckled.
“They’re some daring girls, that’s for sure.”
Ealrin tried to look down at Blume to see her reaction, but something about her still seemed melancholy, almost sad. He told himself he would ask her about it later.
“We need to head north,” Holve said. “And with all the haste we can muster.”
“Bah! Would someone like to explain what the bloody hell is going on first?” Gorplin snarled. “We’ve been kidnapped and imprisoned and nearly blown to bits but you haven’t told us why or what for!”
Holve smiled down at Gorplin.
“Sorry I haven’t been able to be open with you,” Holve said. “I knew what we were getting into and didn’t want you to have to answer for my curiosities if things went poorly.”
“Bah, would you call this bloody fantastic?” Gorplin muttered.
“Mister Holve,” Jurrin said sheepishly. “Are we traveling with them? I thought they wanted to turn us over to the prince?”
Jurrin was pointing at the three from Meris who had taken them captive in the ruined village.
Mas folded his arms and Tratta put her hands on her hips.
“Your group is a little slow,” Maccus said, shaking his head and checking his pack. “You’ll probably want to be catchin’ them up.”
Holve sighed and put a hand on Maccus’ shoulder.
“I’m sorry about Fornos. That wasn’t in the plan.”
Maccus sniffed and nodded.
“Aye,” he said.
Holve gestured out the door and nodded to the rest of them.
“On the way,” he said. “We still need to get out past the north wall.”
THEY SKIRTED DOWN SEVERAL streets that looked like the one they had come from. All dilapidated two-story homes made of falling apart stones with few people looking out of the windows. Anyone they did come across found new ways to get to their destination. Quickly. Ealrin was pretty sure that such a large group of people taking up a small street would intimidate even the roughest thug.
It didn’t hurt that they all had swords on their belts, either.
“Before I fell out of favor with Yada,
” Holve said as they walked. Ealrin was right next to him, with Blume and Gorplin behind and Jurrin and Olma in front. They were in between the others from Meris, making their way down the street two across. “We had a network of intelligence. Spies. Double-agents. Informants. The whole thing. It was pretty expansive and vastly important for our offensive into the Theocracy.”
As they walked, Ealrin could see the northern wall rising up about the houses around them. There were no guard towers there. It didn’t even seem like any soldiers patrolled the walls. Meris was a country that apparently feared no attack from the north.
“The only province we were unable to infiltrate,” Holve continued. “Was the north. No spy we sent in was able to gain the trust of anyone there, nor could we turn any citizen to our side from within.”
“For some reason,” Maccus said as he stepped over a broken apart barrel. “The northern kingdom is a harder shell to crack them Prommus itself. The Theocracy has a tight grip on it and we can’t get in.”
Holve nodded at this.
“But with what we have learned, I know it’s time we get in there ourselves and figure out a few things.”
“Bah,” Gorplin said, grunting. “I thought you wanted to get off this continent. After what we’ve been through so far, I wouldn’t mind a change of scenery myself.”
“I still do,” Holve said. “But it looks like the same troubles we’ve had on Ruyn and Irradan are here, too, but in a much more sinister way.”
“What bloody problems, exactly? War and violence? Bah. That’s nothing new”
“Demons, my friend,” Holve replied solemnly. “And, unfortunately, it’s worse than I feared.”
By this time, the group had come to a street that meandered through several two-story homes, but had no alleys or offshoots. It finally came to a dead end at the wall itself, with the last house on the left actually being built into the wall. The house on the right was far enough away that someone could walk between it and the home, but it was a very tight fit.
“What’s that got to do with us?” Ealrin asked. He agreed with Gorplin. Holve had wanted nothing more than to get off of Ladis as soon as he could. Ealrin wasn’t far from thinking that was still the best plan. They ought to meet up with Silverwolf after she got back their things and get off the continent. They had no reason to be here.
Right?
“Well...” Holve began, turning to face him. As soon as he did, however, his expression changed from conciliatory to surprise.
“No time,” he said quickly. “Over the wall!”
Donald and Gregory didn’t turn to see what Holve had seen, rather they fixed themselves into the space between the wall and the house. Ealrin, however, spun around and drew his sword. He knew that look.
“Halt in the name of the Prince!” called a guard from the top of the road. Several were behind him, spears in hand. The captain of this brigade didn’t wait for a reply before holding up his bow and letting an arrow fly. Ealrin jumped up to shield his companions, but he didn’t need to.
Blume’s outstretched hand had already produced a magical shield that caused the arrow to turn to dust as soon as it hit it. But the magical energy dissipated as soon as it had come.
“Get up the wall!” Holve called, stepping in between Blume and the guards who were coming down the road as quickly as their legs could carry them.
Ealrin looked back to see Mas, Maccus, and Tratta all climbing up the wall and the building, a foot on each as they went from foothold to foothold. Donald and Gregory waited for the next one to go so they could lift them up.
“Not bloody likely,” Gorplin replied, stepping forward and holding out his short sword. He looked at it disdainfully. “A dwarf ought to have an ax. If we get out of this, I trust you’ll find me a good one, Holve.”
“I’d prefer you have your old one back,” Holve replied. “Now up the wall; they want me. You all are just in danger because of me.”
“Speak for yourself,” Blume said. Ealrin could hear both the humorless mirth and tiredness coming with her words.
“You’re too worn out,” Ealrin said, cautioning her. The guards were even closer now and there was not a lot of time left to get up the wall.
“Get them up,” Holve said, nodding towards Jurrin and Olma, who both looked ready to fight and ready to fly up the wall at the same time.
Ealrin didn’t bother arguing. He was going to do what he could to help who he could. Running over to them, he lifted up Olma to the pair of men who then held her up high enough to get a hold of the makeshift ladder. She began to climb. He then reached for Jurrin’s hand.
“I don’t want to be a coward,” he said with defiance in his voice. “I’ll stay and fight.”
Ealrin smiled at the halfling.
“If ever there was a brave halfling,” he said. “You’re it. Protect Olma. She likes you and trusts you.”
“That I can do, Mister Ealrin,” Jurrin said as he stepped forward and let Ealrin lift him up as well.
Turning around quickly, he heard Blume shout again as another shield of magic rushed out towards the soldiers.
“I... I can’t,” Blume said as she stumbled over.
“We’ve got to get her up,” Ealrin said.
“You do it,” Holve replied. “Gorplin and I will hold them off.”
Ealrin gave Holve a knowing glance. Holve just shook his head.
“Go now!” he shouted. Ealrin didn’t argue, but he wanted to. If he didn’t go, who would protect Blume, as he had instructed Jurrin to do for Olma?
He picked her up and helped her over to the pair who, between the three of them, managed to hold Blume as they climbed up the foothold between wall and house.
It was awkward and might have been slow going, had they not been reminded by the sounds of clanging swords and shouting men that Holve and Gorplin were doing their best to hold off. The only advantage they had was the close quarters of the street. That, and the expertise both dwarf and man had in combat.
The three finally reached the top of the wall and Ealrin helped heave Blume over the side and onto the walkway. She had been barely contributing to her escape, but just enough to move her hands and feet where needed.
“Kid’s lighter than I expected,” Donald said.
That actually worried Ealrin, but he’d get to that fear after getting Blume out of Meris.
“Where’s everyone else?” he asked.
“Over,” Donald replied.
Ealrin stepped to the opposite side of the wall and saw that there was a small group of people down at the bottom. A rope was tied to a stone that jutted out from the wall and Ealrin understood.
“What about Holve?” he asked, coming back to the other side of the wall.
“Let’s not waste this chance to get away,” Gregory said. He pointed out that far off down the wall, more guards were heading their way.
That was not the first time someone had told Ealrin not to waste Holve’s sacrifice. The thought twinged him. At least this time, however, Holve was only wanted for prison. There was no demon chasing after him, no wild explosion. Just guards coming for the man and the dwarf.
“Can you hold onto the rope?” Ealrin asked Blume. She was white as a ghost, but she nodded weekly.
Making sure that she had a hold of it and wrapping himself around her, Ealrin let himself over the other side of the wall, climbing down foot by foot, arm length by arm length.
Gregory followed them quickly. It was costing Ealrin so much strength to hold on to both Blume and the rope. She was just barely holding on herself. As soon as the ground seemed to be an acceptable distance away, he let them both slide down the rope and land hard on the ground. Blume crumpled next to him and Gregory landed at their side.
Tratta was the first to speak.
“We head for the north kingdom,” she said matter-of-factly. “We have a contact up there who’s been doing intelligence work. Hopefully the shrew has actually done something useful.”
“What about Mister
Holve and Mister Gorplin?” Jurrin asked. “And where’s the second man in dark clothes? Mister Donald?”
Ealrin shook his head and Donald said simply.
“They’ll catch up.”
As the shouts of the guards on the walls above them came closer, Ealrin prayed to whoever was listening that this was a true statement. Looking at the desolate northern landscape ahead of them, the group set out without their leader.
25: Unrest
Several guards were arranged in a line and on their knees before Prince Grattus. He looked on them scornfully, disappointed. Not only had the prisoners escaped his dungeon, most of city was now in an uproar over magic and criminals running loose in the streets.
None of the soldiers gathered dared to look up at his face as he paced in front of them. He had not yet decided their fate. Nothing dire enough had yet come to mind.
A lot of that also had to do with his own thoughts being preoccupied. Who was that girl? The one who had the bested him even though he possessed the aid of a goddess?
This troubled him more than the loss of Holve. This little magic Speaker was a problem.
Ever since being in Meris with his new gift, the one thing Prince Grattus had most looked forward to was exacting his revenge on the Speakers of Isol. They had stolen so many brothers of his. Killed so many of his men. He thought this new power would be a boon to him.
So far, it had passed every test except this one.
It was approaching midday as he stood glowering at his failed and incompetent soldiers. He heard footsteps behind him and he spun around to see who would dare approach him when he was so livid.
Of course.
“Priest Retter, I do not desire your company. I am about to pass judgment on these fools I call my guards. It is unwise to be so near a prince enraged.”
The priest raised an eyebrow at Grattus, but said nothing. Perhaps the fool was not quite as stupid as he looked.
Grattus wasn’t sure if the priest subjecting himself to him made him more or less angry. He would decide later.
