Golden beams stretched from the West across the Pelan plains leaving a hazy rainbow through the mists that rise from the tributaries below. Hearing footsteps approaching, she quickly ducked into some underbrush as several soldiers came checking the banks on each side of the river. Even wet, her cloak provided some protection from prying eyes so she pulled it around her as she gently slipped her knives from the sheath. As they approached, she could hear talking.
“Been trying all day and we haven’t found a thing,” said the first soldier.
“Captain says to keep at it or he’ll have us on rubbish duty for a month,” said the second.
“You nod off once and he thinks we sleep all the time.”
“You do sleep all the time and it’s a wonder he hadn’t found you sooner.”
“Aw yea, you’re right. But they be sweet dreams I’ll say.”
“They’ll be you last ones if the captain finds you again. He’ll drop your guts on the ground so shut your yap and let’s check back to the city. It’s almost time for dinner.”
The soldiers motioned to their companions on the other side of the river and they began to make their way back toward the city. The thought of something to eat was very appealing, but there was no time for food just yet. If they’d already found Dodie, then why were they still searching? She followed them at a distance, keeping to the shadows like a thief in the night. Judging from the type and condition of their leather armor, Isha guessed that they were lesser ranks in charge of minor bridges on the north side of the city.
After a few minutes of walking, one of the soldiers motioned to the other.
“Aye, I’m going to take a break,” he said.
“Hurry then,” said the other. “Captain says there’s strange things going.”
As the soldier went over a small hill he took a small flask from his belt, uncorked it and began to take a deep drink. She came from behind and easily crept to him, putting a knife to his throat and whispered in his ear.
"Quiet now, don’t move or I might slip and cut your head off," she said. "Who are you looking for?"
"I don’t know," he said with a noticeable quiver in his voice. She pressed the blade against his throat with more conviction. "Guess again."
"It’s true," he whimpered. "We picked up a fat tomewright by the bank and are checking to see if he had a partner. He wouldn't say a word even with hard persuasion."
The thought of Dodie's mistreatment made her blood run hot.
"Where is he now, and be quick," she said.
"Inside the outpost. When we found him, he pounded most of the soldiers like a dirty rug and got the captain out of sorts, so they locked him up tight. There’s no way you can get to him," he said. She wanted to ask him more questions but the other soldier was approaching.
"Oh, we shall see won’t we," she said as she struck him hard on the head with the hilt of her knife dropping him to the ground like a drunk in a tavern.
"Hey, what's taking so long," the other soldier yelled.
Isha quickly tied him up, putting on the downed soldier’s armor, boots and helmet. The armor was too big in the waist, and tight in the chest and hips, making it look rather awkward on her. Luckily, she found some mud and some very ripe cow-dung to stuff in the loose places, adjusting it enough to appear believable. The smell from the dung made it hard to breathe but had the added effect of keeping others at a distance. The sun moved toward the horizon as shadows covered the area offering hope in the protection of darkness.
She put on the helmet, pulling the visor over her face and waved at the other soldier who stood for a moment. He stared at her oddly at first, but then shrugged his shoulders and began making his way back to the barracks. Imitating the swagger of a male soldier, she followed the others they joined the rest of the search patrol. Falling into place at the rear of the line, the nearest soldiers gave her plenty of room as they marched for some thirty minutes toward the setting sun. For certain, Isha received plenty of odd glances but no one confronted her about the smell. She wondered why so many soldiers were sent to search and how they knew where to look. They wore an amazing style of light armor appeared nothing like to clumsy Imperial armor she’d seen and contrasted with Imperial fashion by a chestpiece that crossed the torso diagonally, not in once piece as with most armor. They wore helmets that fit snugly on the head and used short spears instead of long Imperial lances. As good as Isha could be at blending in, she knew that eventually she’d be discovered if she didn’t separate soon. When they arrived, the outpost occupied a ruin of a giant post from the old wars. Since it was carved out of solid rock from the side of a hill, the location wasn’t easily seen due to the natural curve of the land surrounding it. She had little experience with giants and admired their ingenious engineering skill. Even though the fort originally may have held about three-dozen giant warriors with their supplies, from the look of it, the fort held at least double that in men and horses. Her patrol marched to the outpost at the opening of the barracks and approached the door.
Suddenly, a captain appeared, immediately held up his hand and called to her, “You there!”
The captain pointed at Isha who stopped in her tracks. The walls of the outpost loomed menacingly before her, jutting up into the darkening sky.
“Come here,” the captain shouted.
Isha hesitated.
“Come here I said, are you deaf as well?” The captain ordered.
She smoothly slid her hands under the cloak to the hilt of her knives as she took slow, careful steps toward the Chief-of-the-Watch. Glimpsing him through the visor to gauge the distance, she thought he might be a hard one to take down. He was tall, barrel-chested and thick in the limbs with a look in his eyes that revealed a battle-wary man with years of soldiering to his credit. At about fifteen feet distance, Isha began the motion to open her cloak for the attack when the captain held up his hand for her to stop.
“By the demon fires! Stop where you are,” The chief said. “Take yourself and that putrid smelling armor to the Quartermaster immediately before I gag, and then report back to me for discipline. Do you have a dead cow in there? Thank your gods that the Regfennid didn’t see you first or he’d have killed you on the spot. Now go!”
Isha gave a quick salute she saw them do and ran toward the stables on the right.
“No, you idiot, to the quartermaster,” he said pointing to the left.
She saluted again and ran in the direction he pointed. Her ploy had worked better than expected, but she couldn’t stop shaking on the inside from the experience. When the demon had her, hate drowned out the fear, but not anymore. Only a few moved about the barracks when she arrived, and Isha stood amazed out how large it appeared on the inside. She observed carefully, following the changing of the guard to the dungeon. The walls glimmered with oil lamps that smoked and flickered in the stone corridors, throwing phantom-like shadows against the walls. The relative darkness gave her some added comfort as she crept from shadow-to-shadow in search of the dungeon. Carefully removing the filthy armor in the shadows, she was glad that a turn of good fortune finally met her as she overheard the guards talking.
“How long you pulling dungeon duty?” said an older guard to his companion.
“I don’t know,” said the younger guard.
“You keep your head down, your mouth shut and mind your business. Main thing is don’t let the prisoners get in your head.”
“I’ve heard you see more action.”
"Aye. That we have lately.”
The pair passed Isha without so much as a glance so she silently followed. The path circled in and out of corridors with one common theme – downward. The groans of agony and screams for mercy quickly told her that they had arrived at prison level. As they approached, Isha could see another soldier pacing the hallway looking rather irritated.
“Replacements finally here,” one guard said.
“Done having fun with the new prisoner,” said the other. “They have him staked out in the
cell, spread out like an squirrel for roasting.”
“Think he’ll last till we have our fun?” said the first guard.
“Don’t know. He’s tougher than he looks. Almost broke my hand smacking him one,” the other replied.
The guard motioned to his companions to go into the guardroom as they disappeared into a connecting corridor. Isha found a storm drain in the floor. Pulling up a corner, she carefully climbed in, trying to ignore the slime that clung to her hands. Finding two loose stones in the wall, she threw them down the adjoining hallway for a diversion before setting the grate back in place.
“Did you hear that,” a guard said, and a moment later. “There it is again. Go check on it.”
Two guards ran down the hallway leaving a third alone. When they were gone, Isha began scratching her nails on the underside of the grate, drawing the lone guard in for a closer look. As he peered into the drain, Isha reached through an opening in the grating, grabbed him by the shirt and pulled his face into the floor with a force that instantly knocked him senseless. Isha quickly pushed the grate away and entered the hallway with the silence of a cat, taking the guard’s keys, she went door-to-door opening the cells and freeing prisoners.
“Run or die,” she said to the prisoners, who looked at her bestial appearance with horror. Without so much as a thank you, they fled down the corridor as fast as they could. Isha doused the unconscious guard to bring him around.
“Where are they keeping the new prisoners,” Isha said.
“Don’t kill me, I have a family,” he stuttered. Snarling between her teeth, she lifted the shocked guard into the air with one arm as she ran her fingernails across the brick wall with the other, leaving deep gashes in the stone as they went.
“Tell me, quickly,” she threatened.
“They keep most of the prisoners on this hall,” he said. “But new prisoners are kept down the next hallway.”
“Show me,” she said setting him on his feet.
He clutched his chest for a moment as she released him from her iron grip and led her down several passages with her following closely at his back. As she thought, the new prisoner cells were located near the torture chamber for easy access to questioning. It was diabolical but efficient. Prodding him with her knife, he reluctantly opened the first three chambers only to find their occupants dead, giving her a small sense of desperation.
The screams grew louder as they moved closer to the torture chamber itself, the guard shot glances toward the torture area hoping he could call for aid before she gutted him with her knife. They entered the next cell but what she saw stopped her in her tracks. There hung Nathan, suspended between two walls like a grizzly tapestry. His face, back and ribs bulged from the severe beatings he’d taken as the remains of his clothing dangled about his waist in filthy tatters.
“By the fires,” she whispered in wide-eye shock. “Take him down.”
“I don’t have the key,” sputtered the guard.
Isha scowled at him, “Then I have no more use for you.”
“Maybe I have another key that will fit,” he said quickly pulling out his keys, fumbling with them one-by-one trying to find the right match.
“Never mind,” she snapped, taking her lock-pick from her waistband. The shackles opened quickly to her skill.
“Please don’t kill me, Miss,” the guard blubbered.
“Turn around,” she ordered.
The guard turned and shut his eyes tight. But instead of death, he met with a sharp rap to the skull from the hilt of her knife. He went limp and fell to the floor unconscious.
“This is taking too much time,” Isha whispered to herself.
Suddenly, a guard framed the doorway with sword in hand as two more peered over his shoulder from behind. She threw herself against the door and pushed, but the guard’s sword-hand was in the way holding it open for an instant. Her strength was more than a match for the door, but her boots couldn’t grip the slick stone floor beneath them. Then, the guard’s sword fell, clinking off the stone floor as a sickening sound like snapping twigs came from his wrist.
He screamed as he pulled his crushed hand from the door allowing it to slam shut for the moment. Isha went to the unconscious guard, and after quickly finding the correct key, locked them all into the cell. Pulling Nathan to her, she placed her ear on his chest to see if he were still alive. She tried to rouse him, but nothing worked. She judged that by the number of bruises and cuts he’d taken it may be some time before he came around. She carefully lowered him to the floor and wrapped her cloak around him. Bracing her back against the door, she knew it would only be a matter of seconds before the entire corridor was filled with soldiers, but she knew she would make a good fight of it before the end.
Rubbing her eyes with the back of her hands, she tried to fight back the fatigue of the last few days. For a moment, scratching sounds came from the other side of the cell she thought. Isha heard the sound of numerous echoing footsteps down the hallway coming closer along with the sound of angry yelling and the ring of cold steel being drawn. It all made her heart beat so fast she thought it might burst. She hated confined spaces like this and the thought of dying in one made her sick to her stomach.
Suddenly, a scratching sound came from the far wall as a stone slide to one side revealing a hole. Isha silently moved to the side of the opening and waited for someone to emerge. Directly, a young man poked his head through and scanned the room with a look of disappointment on his face. Isha deftly grabbed him by the hair and covered his mouth with her other hand. His eyes met her beastlike feature and terror took him for a moment as his startled yell was muffled by Isha hand.
“If I release you, will you calm yourself,” she said flatly.
He nodded in agreement but his eyes were still wide with anxiety. She slowly pulled her hand away from his lips and released her hold on his scalp.
“Well, this is a shock,” said a man. “This is not the treasure vault at all.”
“Quick, take us with you,” Isha said.
“You give animal attraction a new definition my girl, but I’m happily engaged. However, Jackabo the rogue isn’t a heartless wretch, so let me ask what you have to trade,” he said with a smile.
“I’ll have plenty when I deliver this man to Bero,” she said pointing to Nathan. “But if we’re captured, you get nothing.”
“Or, I could turn you in for a reward. Mano would pay handsomely for someone who has your, shall we say, unique appearance,” said the rogue.
“He would pay you even though you were trying to tunnel into his treasure vault?” she asked.
“He’d take my word over yours any day,” said Jackabo.
“Are you willing to bet your life on it?” Isha asked.
He opened his mouth to speak but choked on the fact that she was right.
“Good point, I’d best be on my way,” he said as he reached to pull the stone back in place.
“Take us with you and I’ll pay you well,” she said.
Jackabo stopped for a moment, eyeing them both suspiciously, “You look like more trouble than you’re worth. As for your friend there, he’s been poisoned and probably won’t make it much longer. So tell me, why would a first-class rogue like myself risk something so stupid as to get involved with you?”
“If you’re a first-class rogue, then why don’t you know exactly where the treasure vault is,” Isha snapped.
“Okay, you have a point. Nevertheless, I’m not the one the guards are looking for, and from the sound of it, you are,” Jackabo said as the sound of the wooden door splintering grew louder.
“I’ll give you all the coin I have on me if you help us,” she said.
“Agreed,” he said, motioning them to follow.
Isha entered the tunnel entrance pulling Nathan after her. They closed the entrance to the tunnel just in time to hear the soldiers break the door in and enter the room. The room was quiet for a moment as the guards tried to understand how two people vanished into t
hin air and how they were going to report the disappearance. The shouting voices of the guards faded into the distance as Isha followed Jackabo down the small tunnel, pulling Nathan behind her, leaving her with one question that burned in her mind. Where was Dodie?
Eighteen
“Knocking Down the Swell…”
Isha did not like being at the mercy of anyone, particularly, someone like Jackabo. The tunnel they followed was large enough to stand in and had evidently been used as a secret escape route in the past. At first, when she pulled Nathan into the tunnel, Jackabo offered to carry him so they could move swiftly. Ignoring him, Isha merely hoisted the Seer onto her shoulders like a sack of meal producing a startled look from Jackabo. After that, the rogue eyed her with a new sense of caution like a tiger in a flimsy cage.
“What is this place,” asked Isha, but was quickly hushed by Jackabo with a finger over her mouth.
“Keep your voice down. The walls are not as thick in some places as they would appear and the guards have digging hounds they can turn loose if they become suspicious. This was a key outpost during the Giant War but has since been taken by the Blood Fianna who use it as a stronghold,” he said.
“Is this Mano’s doing?” she asked.
“No, the Regfennid’s name is Conner,” he replied.
“Where is he now?” she said, pausing a moment to get her bearings.
The Last Refuge Page 18
