by C S Vass
Sighing, Godwin looked to Robert.
“Yes, we’ll come peacefully,” Robert said at once. “For hell’s sake, tell me you’ve a fire where we’re going.”
A dark look came into the Frost Elf’s eyes as he smiled wickedly. “Be careful what you wish for, human. You might just get it.”
Chapter 23
Candlelight sent shadows flickering along the dusty brick walls in the basement of Valencia’s Temple of Ice and Shadow. Faela and Tzuri-kai had the room to themselves, Monk Yelvin assured them, so that they could discuss whatever next steps needed to be taken.
“What of the Shigata?” Tzuri-kai asked as he inhaled burning tobacco from the end of a long, curved pipe. “Will Yaura be of any help to us?”
“I doubt it,” Faela replied, waving away the smoke that wafted around her face. “She will have to find us. We certainly won’t be able to get anywhere near the castle. But even if she does, she’s told us that this is not her fight. She can’t risk jeopardizing the Shigata further after everything that’s already happened to them. This is a battle for you and me, my friend.”
“Friend is it?” Tzuri-kai chuckled. “Aye, that works fine by me. We’ve gone this far together after all. A shame Yaura’s sword can’t aid us. But these dogs in Valencia need to know that there are limits. We can’t save the city, but we can get any who are willing to fight a chance to leave.”
Faela nodded. They had spent several days in that dark basement, while their nights were spent exploring the parts of Valencia that were accessible to them. While the sun was up, all they could do was eat stale bread and the occasional salty rasher of bacon, and discuss exactly what it was that they would do.
During their exploration they spent a significant amount of time at Valencia’s port, which rested on the shore of the Eternal Sea. While nobody had ever sailed towards the sunset and returned, ships still frequented the coast of Western Gaellos, stopping for trade along the way in important cities such as Hart, Brentos, and Tallium. If they could get a ship, they could set sail up the coast, dropping off people strategically in those cities.
The trouble came when Faela realized barriers to getting a ship. It was bad enough that Valencia was essentially in a state of martial law thanks to the demons that plagued the streets. Getting in was simple—getting out was not. Besides that, booking passage was far too costly for the impoverished inhabitants of the Skullgardens who had either been denied the ability to work or had simply arrived with nothing from the Jagjaw Mountains.
Faela and Tzuri-Kai had been considering the bleak state of affairs when the dwarf made an important discovery. One of the trading galleys that rested in the port was operating illegally. Tzuri-kai came to that conclusion when he noticed that the inspectors that weaved in and out of the various ships always skipped the trading vessel Songraven when making their rounds. After investigating further, Faela realized that the crews of the other wealthy merchant ships would spend their evenings in the finer taverns, whereas Songraven’s crew was inclined to visit seedier establishments that had fewer of Shade’s soldiers stationed about. Establishments that even a lowly half-elf could get into. It didn’t take much work to put together the pieces once she paid them a visit.
“Much of it relies on our hunches and instincts,” Tzuri-kai said. “But it’s enough. In my opinion, any crew operating outside of the law is fair game for other scallawags like us to come in and make our move.”
“The question is, how best to do it?” Faela said. “It will come down to timing. Even if by some miracle we can seize a ship in the dead of night, we’ll need to gather those willing to come and have them be ready at a moment’s notice.”
Tzuri-kai nodded thoughtfully while he chewed the end of a rasher of bacon. “I don’t know that we can do it at night. With the curfews in effect, how are we to get the bloody folks out of their holes and onto the ship?”
Faela shook her head. “Moving in the daytime will be a harder obstacle to overcome. If the gods are with us and luck is on our side, maybe, just maybe, you and I can manage to sneak onboard a vessel and take it by stealth. In the daylight with everyone awake and the port bustling with activity? Clear-headed soldiers every few paces? Impossible.”
“I don’t disagree,” Tzuri-kai said. “I just don’t see what we can do.”
A knocking at the door interrupted them, followed by Monk Yelvin entering. “Pardon me, my friends,” he said. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
“It’s not like we were making a lick of progress to begin with,” Tzuri-kai said with a sigh.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Yelvin replied. Setting down three tankards of warm beer he added, “Perhaps a drink will help.”
“Doubt it, but I’ll take one all the same,” Tzuri-kai said as he sniffed his beer and took a loud gulp.
Monk Yelvin leaned in. “I have been rather busy, as you’ve both requested. There is certainly an overwhelming interest that folks have in leaving this city. There’s no issue on that count.”
“I’m hardly shocked,” Faela said. “We just need to figure out how we’re going to pull that off.”
“Yes,” Yelvin agreed. “Particularly given the population that wants to depart.”
“What do you mean?” Faela asked.
Yelvin rubbed his eyes. The monk had been working around the clock to help them in any way he could, speaking with locals and organizing people while avoiding any of Shade’s curious investigators. “At your request, I’ve been speaking with the people about the possibility of… certain allies from Killer’s Rest coming to their aid. To my surprise many were inspired by such a possibility.”
“So what?” Tzuri-kai asked. “You’re saying we should abandon the plan to leave and stay and fight?”
“No, no,” Yelvin said quickly. “Not at all. You see, there are two camps. Those who want to fight, and those who want to flee. The fighters are what you would expect—strong and able-bodied elves, dwarves, ogres, sorcerers, and Star-blessed who are eager to take back their city. They just don’t want to have that battle while their more vulnerable loved ones are here.”
“Ah,” Tzuri-kai said. “I see. They want the women and children out before the fun starts.”
“Precisely,” Yelvin said. “Along with the old and infirm. The sick and the dying.”
“We have to figure it out,” Faela said. “One way or another these people are counting on us.”
Yelvin nodded. “I feel the same way. There’s also the grim possibility that Shade’s men are suspicious that such a mass exodus might be in the planning.”
“Well that’s another ugly roach in the pie,” Tzuri-kai said.
“Indeed,” Yelvin agreed. “But one we will need to deal with if this is anything more than a pipe dream.”
“We always knew it would be hard,” Faela said. “I won’t be deterred by some minor setbacks.”
“A bit more than minor, wouldn’t you say?” Tzuri-kai asked.
“I may have a way to help,” Yelvin said.
Tzuri-kai sputtered on his beer. “Well don’t jump in all at once, take your time with it then!” the dwarf shouted.
“It’s an option that I would rather not resort to, truth be told,” Yelvin said. “It’s quite dangerous. A near certainty that some of the folk wouldn’t survive. But still…”
“Enough of your hand-wringing, monk!” Tzuri-kai shouted. “Out with it already!”
“Alright, alright,” Yelvin said. “You see, the port where these ships are located is also the same location where Valencia’s sewer system leads to. If you are trying to achieve a nighttime escape, then it might be possible to have the refugees avoid any unwanted attention by traveling underground.”
“And the downside?” Faela asked.
Tzuri-kai snorted. “Yes, what’s the downside? Other than having to crawl through those subterranean shit-tunnels?”
“Well, I don’t have to tell you about the problems Valencia has been having as of late.”
“Demons,” Faela said, nodding. “But how bad is it? Are we talking about certain death, a fighting chance, or just killing a few monsters along the way?”
“I don’t know,” Yelvin said. “I’m sure you can appreciate that I’ve not exactly had reason to go down there. I’ve heard some Bluecloaks talking about it, that’s all. I know there are demons in the sewers. I just don’t know how many, or exactly what to expect if you descend.”
“With just the two of us to protect a group of helpless people,” Faela said, frowning. She didn’t like those odds at all. It sounded like doom.
“Just one of us,” Tzuri-kai said. “Leaving only one of us to take over an entire ship. Impossible.”
“Not quite,” Yelvin said. “Don’t forget, there are those in the city that are willing to fight. Some of them will have to make the journey anyway in order to protect their loved ones on the trip north. If you two split up, I can give each of you a handful of fighters. One for taking the galley, the other for guiding refugees through the sewers.”
Faela and Tzuri-kai exchanged glances. “Great,” the dwarf laughed. “A simple choice we have then. Well, what do you say?”
“You’re smaller,” Faela said. “You should go into the sewers.”
“Wha—these sewers are massive,” Tzuri-kai protested. “Size makes no difference. Now if you’re talking about the value of being able to skulk around on a bandit vessel…that’s where stealth is needed. You should take to the sewers while I attack the ship.”
“We are in a temple,” Faela said. “Why not let the gods decide?”
Yelvin looked at her curiously, but Faela only smiled. She took a coin from her pocket and handed it to the monk. “Would you do the honors?” she asked.
“I suppose,” Yelvin said. “Heads, Faela gets the ship, tails, Tzuri-kai will be the one to avoid the sewers.”
Tzuri-kai grunted. “Why not? Flip away, monk.”
Yelvin tossed the coin into the air, caught it, and slammed it down onto the table.
A loud expletive resounded throughout the basement as they looked at the result.
Somewhat blushing as the other two looked at her, Faela shrugged. “I guess I’ve been spending too much time with you, Tzuri-kai. Your foul mouth is starting to rub off on me.”
It took just two days for their plans to come to fruition. Monk Yelvin was well-liked and more importantly well-trusted by the citizens of the Skullgardens. Faela’s fears that the population would be difficult to convince proved unfounded. The oppressed people were starved for some sort of action, some way to take control over their lives, and now that the possibility had arrived, they were ready to move.
On the eve of their exodus, Faela met with her fellow fighters. She had ten sword hands at her disposal, along with the sorcerer Derryl, who the others regarded as their leader. “Once we begin there’s no going back,” Faela said to him as the last rays of sunset cast the crumbling buildings of Valencia in a dirty, bronze light.
The sorcerer nodded seriously. Despite his youth there was wisdom in his hazel eyes, along with a fierce anger. “One way or another, these people will leave Valencia tonight,” he responded. Faela did not have to ask his meaning.
About one-hundred refugees had joined Faela’s company. They were the aged and agitated, sickly servants fleeing on broken legs. Their movement would be slow, and some would catch illness in the sewers and die terrible deaths later. Still, they were willing, and that meant Faela had to try.
The sewers were not difficult to access. The unguarded entrance looked more like the doorway to a palace than the entrance to Valencia’s waste site. Two thick doors made from impressive slabs of marble pushed inward to reveal a dark stairwell that led to the underbelly of the city. About a third of the refugees came prepared with torches. “Any idea what we can expect down there?” Faela asked Derryl.
The sorcerer looked at her seriously. “Hell.”
They walked along a stone path set next to the slow-moving waters that held Valencia’s waste. While their feet remained dry, the smell was enough to knock some of the refugees off their feet. “We have to proceed quickly,” Derryl said as the mob behind them wheezed and snorted. “These people will die if exposed to the filth for too long.”
“That’s fine by me,” Faela said. A ball of fire flickered in her hand, but even with all of the light they had, it was impossible to see more than a dozen paces ahead of them at a time.
“Your companion, the dwarf,” Derryl said. “Should he fail we’ll need a contingency plan.”
“He won’t fail,” Faela said. “I’ve seen what Tzuri-kai is capable of.”
“If you trust him then—what was that?”
The sound of ten swords hissing in the firelight echoed across the stone walls as they were pulled from their scabbards. Someone screamed as out of the darkness a pair of rotting hands and gnashing teeth flew at Faela. She would have been killed instantly, had Derryl not shot his hands forth. The spell sliced through the demon like a katana, and it fell dead at their feet.
“Oh shit,” Faela muttered, her heart racing.
“What is it?” One of the warriors asked. Panicked mumblings could be heard throughout the sewer.
Increasing the intensity of the fire in her hand, Faela leaned in to investigate. It appeared to be a human, but one that had been dead for several weeks. Only the smallest scraps of flesh rested on its skeletal structure.
“Vrykolaka,” Derryl muttered.
“What?”
“It is not a surprise to encounter one,” the sorcerer went on. “You might know it as a zombie. They dwell in the land between life and death sustaining themselves on the organs of humans and smaller mammals like cats and dogs. It’s all right.”
Faela wrinkled her nose. The smell the creature emitted was terrible. “How does it move so quickly with so little muscle mass?”
Derryl shrugged. “Fueled by hate, or so they say. Now co—”
Derryl was cut off once more by a grumbling noise coming from the darkness. “Warriors to the front!” the sorcerer shouted. “They come!”
Come they did. Faela pushed as much energy as she could into her hand, shooting a jet of fire into the air that revealed at least two dozen more of the vrykolakas. “No!” Derryl shouted. “Don’t use fire! They’ll keep coming and their burning bodies will be even more difficult to defeat. Cut off the heads!”
Cursing, Faela receded the flames and drew her ruby-pommel sword just in time to hack the head off of a charging zombie. The smell of filth grew even stronger as the demons rushed forward. Rotted teeth gnashed wildly in the light of the torches, but while the vrykolakas outnumbered their warriors, they were far weaker.
Faela weaved and dodged with the agility of a dancer, swinging her blade with skill and accuracy. She was grateful that for the last few days in the Temple of Ice and Shadow, she had little to do with her time besides sharpen her sword while she and Tzuri-kai made plans.
“Back to the grave with you!” Derryl shouted as he sent a fierce slash of magic that cut down three of the demons at once.
Suddenly a sharp scream pierced through the crowd of refugees. Turning, Faela tried to see what was happening when her arm exploded in pain. Dropping her sword, she turned back to see a vrykolaka’s mouth wrapped around her wrist.
Mustering all of her strength, Faela shouted and drove the creature forward as fast as she could. The demon stumbled while maintaining its grip until its head smashed into the stone wall of the sewer with the force of a sledgehammer. When it released her, Faela drew a long knife and planted it right in the demon’s head.
The dust seemed to have settled after she finished it. Panting, she created another ball of fire, and by its light investigated her wounded wrist. Blood and flesh hung from her arm. “There will be scarring,” Derryl observed. “Be grateful it was your arm and not your neck. You could be dead.”
“Can you heal it for me?”
“All I can do is wrap it with bandages,” Der
ryl said. “My magic is for attacking. I’m no healer. Don’t be concerned. You’ll be fine. The vrykolakas is not known to carry any infectious diseases in its saliva.”
The sorcerer quickly bandaged her and then turned his attention to the rest of the group. “Is anyone injured?” he asked while moving through the crowd.
“Only that one,” a warrior said as he shook his head sadly.
Faela moved closer to see what was going on. Trembling, she moved towards the cluster of people that had gathered around a woman close to her own age. She was lying on the ground. Lifeless blue eyes stared at the ceiling. The sight of the large bump in her stomach made Faela’s throat tighten and eyes water. Several people around them sobbed quietly. Friends and family of the woman.
“There’s nothing to be done for her,” Derryl said solemnly. “We all knew what the risks were when we came this way. Now we live or die by this choice. But on the great mother behind the stars, I’m going to fight like hell to live.”
Moonlight fell in ribbons along the dock as Faela and Derryl moved out of the sewers.
“Now is where it matters the most,” the sorcerer whispered to her. “We need to see these people out of here safely.”
Faela nodded. “I’m ready.”
The pathway through the sewers led them up to the port. Not a soul was in sight before her. There were only the desperate people at her back. People she had to see out of this city.
Rows of trading vessels docked along the waterway. Faela crept silently along as the rest of the group waited in the shadows of the sewer. The plan would be for her to find Songraven and ensure Tzuri-kai had no problems. Derryl had the magical prowess to see through her eyes, so once he knew it was safe, they would follow suit and get the refugees onboard.
This has to work, Faela thought to herself. It has to. Failure is not an option.
Creeping along the dock, she approached Songraven. There was no commotion. So far, so good. Running up the step into the ship, she noticed the heavens were calm for the first time in a long while.
