One of the other mercenaries drew a bow, preparing to shoot Lorik from the shadows, but Spector appeared behind the man and slit his throat. The arrow skittered across the ground as the mercenary tried to hold back the flood of blood that was suddenly gushing down his chest and stomach.
Ulber was on his knees, huddled over and pretending to hold his chest, but Lorik could sense the outlaw’s intent. He had a weapon and was waiting for Lorik to get close enough that Ulber could strike him down. Lorik waited, his arms open wide, beckoning for Ulber to get up and fight.
“Is that all you’ve got?” Lorik taunted. “I didn’t think this would be so easy.”
Ulber screamed as he launched himself forward. He was like a raging bull, charging straight at Lorik, and there was a thin, almost delicate-looking knife in his hand. Lorik waited until Ulber had almost reached him, then he stepped to the side, grabbing Ulber’s wrist just as the mercenary stabbed his knife toward where Lorik had been. Lorik twisted hard, and the bones in Ulber’s wrist snapped under the sudden pressure.
This time his scream wasn’t rage—it was pain and fear. Ulber, Lorik knew, was a bully, and he’d never met his match before. He dropped to his knees once more, cradling the wrist. Lorik hit the outlaw hard in the back of the neck with his hand flat and stiff. There was a pop, and the outlaw toppled over. Lorik could see the thick shoulders of his opponent bunching as the muscles down his back suddenly cramped hard. Nerves were pinched, and Ulber experienced pain like he’d never felt before. Tears spilled from his eyes, but Lorik wasn’t finished with him. He raised a booted foot and then stomped down hard on the outlaw’s knee, feeling the bones and cartilage pop under the savage blow.
The rest of the outlaws had seen enough. Several rushed toward Lorik, raising their swords and long knives. Lorik grabbed the first man to reach him and swung the outlaw around like a living club. The mercenary went flying, crashing into several others and sending them all falling in a heap. Before the others could react, Lorik ran to his swords, drawing both weapons and locking them together.
Four outlaws renewed their charge, but Lorik spun his swords, batting away the outlaw blades and striking one of the mercenaries across the shoulder. The man fell, screaming in pain. Lorik turned quickly and stabbed sideways with his sword, impaling one man, then flung his body around as if he weighed nothing. The mortally wounded outlaw crashed into his comrade, and both fell to the ground. The fourth mercenary was backing away, but Lorik closed the distance between them quickly. He slashed downward in a powerful overhead strike. The mercenary raised his own weapon to defend himself, but he wasn’t strong enough. Lorik’s weapon crashed down so hard the mercenary’s arm was knocked down, and Lorik’s blade split the man’s head in two.
Lorik spun away, jerking his sword free and flinging gore in an arc that made the other outlaws flinch. Most had decided to flee, but Spector circled the group, his spinning attack cutting anyone who fled to ribbons. Pyllvar called the survivors to join him as he retreated into the small stable the Outcasts had built.
“Don’t let them escape,” Lorik shouted at Spector, before turning his attention back to Ulber.
The wounded outlaw was trying to crawl away, but his knee was ruined, and with only one good arm and leg, he couldn’t move fast enough. Lorik kicked the mercenary hard in the side, flipping him over and breaking several ribs in the process. Ulber still had his broken arm cradled to his chest as he struggled to breathe. Lorik stepped on the mercenary’s good hand before bending down. Ulber moaned like a terrified child after having a nightmare.
“You shot the arrow that struck down my friend?” Lorik asked as he gazed into the pale face of the big outlaw.
“Yes,” Ulber managed to groan.
“That was his wife your false king murdered before his very eyes,” Lorik said. “That was a mistake, just as killing the Outcasts you found on your journey south was.”
“We were ordered to do it,” Ulber said.
Lorik cleared his throat and spit in the mercenary’s face.
“Tell me you didn’t torture and kill just because you enjoyed it,” Lorik shouted. “Tell the truth, or I’ll make you suffer.”
Ulber managed to nod his head.
“Justice demands your life,” Lorik said. “But I won’t kill you.”
A look of relief flooded the outlaw’s face. Tears poured from his eyes as he whimpered in pain. Lorik looked up and saw Spector waiting patiently.
“He’s all yours,” Lorik said, turning and walking away.
The screams that Ulber bellowed as Spector’s knives peeled away his flesh echoed through the valley. Lorik looked up at his young cadre of troops and saw that many were physically sick as they watched the outlaw being killed. Lorik nodded and then went to where the group of Outcasts were huddled. They had been tied together, but Lorik knew they were strong enough to cast off their bonds. He looked at them. Most had elongated heads, with thick, uneven cheekbones. As their bodies were magically grown to enormous proportions, there was no thought given to aesthetics. There was nothing symmetrical about them. Most had uneven shoulders, lopsided mouths, uneven eyes, and limbs of varying size. Some muscles had been enhanced, while others looked almost as if they were in atrophy. To a man, they looked terrified, but Lorik felt nothing but pity for them.
“Why do you look so frightened?” Lorik asked. “Your tormentors are getting what they deserve. You are not the first settlement they have attacked.”
“Who are you?” asked one of the Outcast.
“I am Lorik, King of Ortis.”
“We heard that Yettlebor was king,” said another of the disfigured villagers.
“Justice has been served to the murderous coward,” Lorik said. “It is time that you and your king stand up to the likes of these outlaws.”
“We are not soldiers,” said one of the Outcast.
“But you have the strength and ability to protect yourselves. Are you from Ortis?”
Most of the villagers nodded.
“Then you have every right to be here. Things will change, but not if we sit idle and do nothing. We must come together.”
“The normal people won’t have us,” argued another of the villagers.
“They fear us,” said the first to speak.
“And they should, but not for the reasons you think. Stand with me, and I will ensure there is a place for you in the Five Kingdoms.”
“You’ll protect us?” one of the smaller villagers asked.
“I’ll teach you how to protect yourself.”
The group looked around, then nodded.
“Good,” Lorik said. “Now cast off that rope—it cannot hold you.”
The villagers looked uncertain, but one of them pulled his arms apart. The rope that tied his hands held for a moment as he strained against his bonds, then suddenly the rope split apart. The others looked at their own bonds, and a few more broke the rope; finally the rest strained and pulled, snapping their bonds, until the entire group was free. Lorik not only saw the incredulous looks that crossed their faces, but he felt the sense of empowerment radiating off them.
“The outlaw is dead,” Spector hissed as Lorik turned back to the stable. “What of these that remain?”
“We will treat them the way they treated others,” Lorik pronounced. “Burn it to the ground.”
Lorik lifted a burning beam from one of the destroyed shelters and tossed it onto the thatched roof of the stable. The thatch caught fire immediately, and he could feel the terror from the mercenaries inside. The stable was a simple structure made for the purpose of keeping the encampment’s livestock together through the night. There was only one large door and no windows. Lorik unhooked his swords and positioned himself just outside the stable doors. Spector glided in the air beside him; his friend was incapable of being still when the excitement of battle was upon him. After a short time, smoke began to billow out the door, and Lorik could hear the outlaws coughing inside. It was only a matter of time before the doors
bust open and the mercenaries came rushing out. Then the slaughter would truly begin.
Chapter 20
The tunnel leading down into the caverns had cooled enough that Brianna and Jute could walk down the sloping pathway. The sun was up by the time they reached the tunnel, and Brianna let the light shine on her face for a long moment; then she turned and followed Jute down into the darkness.
“Fine work on the tunnel,” Jute said with grudging respect.
“Thank you,” Brianna said.
They could feel the heat that still radiated from the recently melted walls, and at the bottom of the tunnel, a blob of molten rock had spread out across the smooth cavern floor, leaving an unsightly rock formation in the otherwise pristine cavern. Even though Jute had described the caverns under the mountains, Brianna was still in awe of the incredible craftsmanship around her.
Jute led the way through the darkened spaces, with only the barest hint of flame on Brianna’s right hand to give them light when they needed it. Many of the caverns and tunnels were lined with glowing minerals that shed a soft, almost dreamy light to the dark spaces under the mountains.
Brianna saw the pillars carved to look like dwarves. She marveled at seeing giant sculptures of dwarves that were hundreds of times larger than any dwarf she’d ever met. Everywhere she looked it seemed was a new wonder. They walked for hours, rushing through caverns that Brianna could have spent hours inspecting. She had thought that Jute was exaggerating, but what she found beneath the mountains was nothing short of a kingdom’s own treasury.
There were statues made of precious metals, scenes carved into the stone that wrapped around the caverns and some that even covered the ceiling. Brianna could see the empty homes, the darkened workshops, and deserted villages. It broke her heart to think that such a magnificent race of people had vanished completely. The loss was so great, it seemed to make her own problems seem petty by comparison. It was also a stark reminder that the things and people she loved wouldn’t last forever.
They passed dark mining shafts, but Jute led them on. Despite his injuries, his stamina seemed unending. They crossed bridges that were built across huge empty spaces that were lost in darkness that made Brianna feel very small. There were stairs leading down to new caverns, long tunnels that forced Brianna to duck her head and walk bent over. The only way to mark the passage of time was by her need to rest.
Jute talked very little and always in a whisper. His tension was palpable. It took days to reach the mining shafts that led down to the underworld. To Brianna they seemed like bottomless pits that made her feel small and insignificant.
“These shafts lead down to the underworld?” Brianna asked.
“That’s right,” Jute whispered. “The dwarves dug too deep in their search for ore.”
“So what stops the Bollarg from just coming up these shafts?”
“He’s too big,” Jute said. “And even if he could get here, he can’t get out of the caverns without help.”
“Is this where the dwarves are digging a new way out?”
“No,” Jute said. “But this is where the Gorslings came up. They only use these shafts when they are drawn up by something. We should be able to go down without being seen, as long as we’re quiet.”
The mining shaft had stairs carved into one side that zigzagged back and forth. The descent was easy enough, but Brianna could only imagine what climbing that many stairs would be like. She knew she would find out soon enough, and if they were pursued, the ascent would be even more arduous.
The shaft seemed to go on and on, with none of the magical, phosphorescent light they had enjoyed in the caverns above. Brianna used only the barest of flames to allow her to keep her bearings, even though it made Jute nervous. Brianna knew that sooner or later they would have to reveal themselves and she didn’t want to do that prematurely, but she needed to be able to at least see the next step.
Eventually light from the underworld became visible. The lower part of the shaft was not like the upper sections. Brianna could see tools and and unfinished digs in the narrowing sides of the shafts. Below them, the large expanse narrowed like a funnel, and in the center was a hole that led down into the underworld. It wasn’t large; Brianna guessed that the opening was just big enough for a full-grown man to crawl through. The stairs ended abruptly, and they were forced to scramble over piles of loose stone to make their way to the opening.
“Is it guarded?” Brianna asked.
“No,” Jute said. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have made it out.”
“Where are your people?”
“Below us is a small cavern. We’ll have to climb down, then cross through a long tunnel. My kin are kept near the Bollarg in the main cavern.”
“And what will we face in the caverns below?”
“It could be Gorslings, or some other nightmarish beasts, or nothing at all. There is no order in the underworld. Only pain and misery.”
“Perhaps it’s best if you stay here,” Brianna said.
“I will not.”
“How are you going to climb with only one arm?”
“I’ll manage,” Jute said. “You worry about yourself.”
“Why are you so stubborn?”
“It’s not stubbornness if I’m right,” Jute grumbled.
He lowered himself into the opening. The sides were jagged, which made it easy to climb. Jute was slow but steady as he went, making sure his feet found solid places to brace his body before moving down. Brianna could see the grim determination in the dim red light that was shining up through the opening.
She followed after Jute, but once they were far enough into the cavern that she could see below and ensure that nothing was waiting or taking notice of their descent, she let go. She kicked herself away from the wall and flipped backward. A large pool of molten rock gave the cavern the red light and also heated the air. Brianna was able to glide slowly down on the warm updraft, until she could drop lightly to the floor of the cavern.
Jute was still high up on the wall, but she heard his grunt. She didn’t know if it was respect or disdain for how quickly she made her way down into the cavern. She kept an eye out for anyone or anything that might be alerted to their presence, but the cavern was deserted. A long, dark tunnel led away from the cavern. When Jute finally completed his climb, they hurried down the gloomy corridor.
Brianna stayed closer to Jute as they traveled through the underworld. She knew if things went bad, she would be hard-pressed to protect the dwarf, but she didn’t want to let danger surprise her either. They passed several fat worms that were slowly crawling down the tunnel. Jute used hand signals to communicate with her. He covered his eyes and then pointed to the worms.
Blind, he mouthed without making a sound.
Then he covered his mouth and shook his head, before pointing at the worms again.
Dumb, he mouthed.
Brianna nodded her head, and they went quietly passed the fat creatures. The tunnel opened up into a much larger cavern. Brianna realized that they were high up on the cavern wall, and peeking out, they had a good view of what lay below. There was a massive lake of molten lava in the center of the cavern. On one end was a giant throne. The being that sat on the throne was shaped like a man, but instead of skin or clothes, the being was covered in living flames. Brianna watched in fascination for several moments. When the being moved, the flames collapsed inward, almost like water, then reshaping. It was completely unnatural, and Brianna guessed the human shape was by choice, not design.
Brianna could control fire, conjuring intense heat with a single thought and melting stone so that she could swim through solid rock. But the Bollarg was made of fire, a living flame that could take any shape.
“Where are your people?” Brianna asked.
“There,” Jute said, pointing to the far side of the molten lake.
“What do you need to free them?”
“Nothing but time,” Jute said. “If we can distract the Bollarg and its minions lon
g enough, then I can lead them out.”
“A distraction,” Brianna said. “I can provide that, but I can’t keep you safe until you’re out of this cavern.”
“We can make it,” Jute said. “But we need to wait until the working group is brought back. For a short time, all the dwarves will be together. When that happens, we can escape.”
Brianna looked around the cavern. There was no sense of order, no industry. The dwarves on the far side of the cavern huddled together. Most were sprawled on the stone floor, their small bodies curled in the sleep of exhaustion.
Brianna had doubts about Jute’s plan, but she was glad that she had time to watch and learn as much as she could about the Bollarg and the other miserable creatures in the cavern. It was a nightmarish scene. There were horribly misshapen creatures all around the cavern, some wailing in distress, others taking out their frustration and rage on those less fortunate. Nowhere did Brianna see hope or happiness. It was a place of utter despair, a prison of forgotten souls.
Hours passed, and there was no sign of the other dwarves. Brianna was beginning to wonder if those she could see below them were possibly all that was left of Jute’s kinsmen. Finally, Jute tapped her arm and pointed. A line of dwarves were being escorted into the cavern. They looked even more ragged and exhausted than the others. Brianna knew she would have to keep the entire cavern occupied for at least an hour just to give the dwarves time to escape the main cave, and then the Bollarg would know the dwarves were escaping.
“This plan isn’t very good,” Brianna said.
“Do you have a better one?” Jute asked.
Brianna wished that Zollin were there. His skills would have been useful in helping the dwarves escape while she distracted the Bollarg.
“No, I’ll distract the wretched creatures,” Brianna said. “Get your people out as fast as you possibly can.”
“I will,” Jute said with a fierce determination in his voice.
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