Reapers of Souls and Magic: A Rohrland Saga (The Rohrlands Saga Book 1)

by R. E. Fisher

  (F.As. 1.1 - Book of Fire, Tenets of Asmodei, Chapter 1, Verse 1)

  It was long past sunset, and Kalios was preeminent in the night sky. Dmitri opened the closet, pulled out the clothes he used to explore the tunnels, and changed into them. He went to the brick that triggered the secret door he used to enter and move about the keep. He stepped into the passageway and closed the door behind him. He had explored all the areas of Niloy’s map and was searching those areas where it ended. He determined that any courage Niloy may have had ended at the edges of the map, so he had walked through the dark, dank passageways searching for any means of escape. While doing this, he had found a doorway that hadn’t been on the map Niloy had given him more than ten days ago, and his continued exploration had allowed him to find a tunnel shaft that crept downward, leading him to a door and a passageway beyond.

  After walking for about a quarter of an hour, he came upon the door, his chalk marking still on it. He checked to ensure that he carried his daggers, some extra torches, and flint. He carried no food, as he had found out during prior excursions that it was a bit hazardous to do so. Rats had smelled the cheese and bread he had brought, and they had been determined to get it from him. He had been bitten several times but knew that he could tell no one, knowing that they would inform Eod. So, he was left hoping that they hadn’t been too disease-ridden. He also planned on being back in his room before Daelock brought him his morning meal in a few more hours.

  Opening the marked door, he entered and began exploring the darkness that he was becoming more comfortable with. Before long, he arrived at a door, but he had to move an old barrel that someone had placed in front of it, blocking it. Once he had opened the door, he saw that the corridor led down even deeper, and the air inside smelled of water and rot. Still, he wanted to see what lay beyond that door. It might offer him an escape.

  He walked cautiously down a combination of steps and paths for nearly twenty minutes with no indication that any other doors or halls entered the corridor. He continued downward for another kilometer, as best he could tell, and he found where the rotting smell was coming from as he turned the last corner into a large cavern.

  His dim candle showed that he stood atop a high series of stairs that led down onto the dock. Much of the cavern was lit by some sort of glowing algae on the roof of the cavern. By the algae’s dim glow, he could see that a boat was moored on the decaying docks. He climbed down the stairs, checking to make sure that none of the planks were rotted and ensuring that he would arrive safely at the bottom. As he walked toward the lake, he noticed how high the cave ceiling was and that it had stalactites hanging from it. He heard water lapping against the dock pilings and realized that there must be a current or tide in those black waters.

  As he investigated the area, he concluded that it must have been a trading port at some time. There was no beach or shore, just the dock and a carved-out landing that appeared to have been where they unloaded their goods. If the boat could come in, then one could leave as well, he realized. The humidity of the warm cave was stifling as he stepped onto the dock, testing it. It seemed firm enough to hold him. His caution and fear forced him to test each plank of wood, ensuring that he didn’t fall through it into the black waters beneath. He managed to get to the boat and saw that it was a small, open sailboat with a cabin. The canvas sail had rotted away, but he couldn’t tell what shape the mast was in without crawling into the boat. He stepped to the edge of the boat and kicked at it, causing it to rock as it sat atop the water. Only tiny pieces broke away from the boat under the force of his boot, but it appeared solid enough, so he stepped over the edge and into it. It rocked further from his weight, but it held him. He made his way to the mast, investigating its condition, and saw that it, too, was solid, but the ropes used to raise and lower the sail were rotted. Damn! he thought to himself. He was going to have to find some rope, but he had looked for that previously without success. He stepped into an area he thought was a small cabin to see what was within.

  His torch left black soot on the low ceiling, and he realized that it was a small wheelhouse with a cabinet on the back wall. He opened the cabinet and peered inside, and saw to his delight that it held maps. As he lifted them out, his eye caught something that glittered in the torchlight. He leaned forward to examine it, and saw that it was a necklace with a key hanging from it. He picked it up also. I had better return to my room, he thought as he realized he was nearing his self-imposed deadline. He needed to give himself time so that he could get to the room and change before Daelock arrived.

  He made his way back up the stairs and down the corridors to his room, where he placed the maps and necklace within a drawer and covered them with garments so that they weren’t visible upon casual inspection. He undressed, shoved his dirty clothes into the cabinet, and washed. As he was changing into the clothes he usually wore, Daelock entered the room.

  “You’re awake already. Wonderful! We can begin your training early!” he said as he set down the tray of food that he had brought in with him.

  “I couldn’t sleep, so I got up. Big deal,” Dmitri replied.

  “We shall put this time to good use, then.”

  “How? Let me guess: the trolls shit their bed again and you expect me to clean it up?” he asked.

  “You keep complaining, but you do realize your situation could be much worse, don’t you? Or have you been too long removed from that dungeon cell?” Daelock asked as he left the room, closing the door behind him.

  Dmitri ignored the threat, having already realized that the only threats that mattered there were the ones that Eod made to everyone. He sat down to eat the food he had been brought. Crap! Cold fish stew for breakfast again. God, I hate this place! The past week had been nothing but meaningless work and knife training. He was going to kill the next man he faced!

  A few hours and many buckets of shit later, he was instructed to go wash, change, and return to the training yard. He left the stables and walked through the horses’ feed lot, then up the stairs toward the tower where his room was. He opened the door to his room and saw Niloy standing at the foot of his bed, staring at the maps he had spread out over it.

  “What the hell are you doing in here?” Dmitri asked, walking toward him.

  “I was wondering what you had found this morning, so I came to check,” he answered.

  Dmitri rushed forward and grabbed Niloy, lifting him up from the ground. “Were you following me? Did you forget I have your dagger, you little bug?”

  “No. I’m assuming you mean the one you hide in your boot each morning. Except for this morning,” Niloy replied calmly.

  The realization that he had forgotten it that morning caused him to shake the shelfling violently. “You little shit! I’m going to toss you from that goddamned window!” he said as he began carrying the shelfling toward it.

  “What? And ruin your one chance to get out of here?” he asked with a mischievous grin.

  Dmitri paused his march to the window and asked, “Why would you help me?”

  “Do you think I like being here just to clean up piss and shit from those cell floors? I don’t like it any more than you like cleaning those stables full of horse and troll dung. Everyone else here is a sycophant of that mage. If anyone in this place can help get me get out of here, it’s you.”

  “Go on,” Dmitri instructed.

  “I looked at those maps and I see a way out of here. A path, by the way, that I doubt the mage is watching. I wasn’t always a slave!” Niloy hissed. “But don’t you think you should change and get out to the yard? Daelock has no patience for your tardiness, as you learned before,” he said, looking at the wound on Dmitri’s cheek that was still healing.

  Unsure of the shelfling’s intentions, he shifted his grasp of Niloy, holding him up against the wall by his throat. “Your dagger isn’t the only one I had,” he said, pulling one of his own from its sheath that was at the small of his back and placing the tip of it into the soft flesh just under the s
helfling’s eye.

  “I swear I can get us out of here,” Niloy said, holding his hands up in the air, against the wall. “I swear.”

  The need to kill someone was pushing and pulling at Dmitri’s sense of self-control. He wanted to kill the little bastard, but he also realized that if he did, he could be ensuring his own continued imprisonment. His need to get away from Eod won out, and he pushed his dagger back into its sheath. He would kill the little runt later, after they had escaped. He released Niloy, who dropped more than five feet to the hard floor. It was quite a long drop for a being that stood less than a couple feet tall.

  “Go do what you must with Daelock. Meet me here when your day is through. I’ll explain my plan to you then,” he said as he got up from the floor, brushing off the rags that passed as his clothes.

  “Fine. But if you’re playing with me…” Dmitri left the threat unfinished.

  “I’m not,” Niloy replied as though he were offended.

  Niloy folded the maps and shoved them inside his rags, slipping through the hidden door before Dmitri could stop him.

  Damn! Dmitri thought as he watched him slip away. He rushed to the drawer where the maps had been and saw that the necklace with the key was gone as well. He already knew that Niloy had recovered his dagger, too, without even having to look to verify what the shelfling had told him earlier. Dmitri swore aloud and vowed to himself to kill that little bastard.

  After several hours of being struck, chided, cursed, kicked, cajoled, cut, and struck harder, Dmitri returned to his room and began examining the fresh set of bruises and cuts on his body. God, how he wished he could get his hands on his stuff. Between the cuts and the dung, he was forced to move, the constant threat of infection caused him to worry more and more. He wished he could have a couple of the aspirin or maybe the antibiotics that were in his survival pack. If he could get it to work, his pistol would be so much more worthwhile, he thought with a smile. That would resolve some of the issues I have with more than a couple of these bastards.

  He removed his shirt and began washing his face, and he found himself staring into the mirror that hung above the washbasin. He was growing lean, he observed. His muscles were becoming much more toned, and he had gained a few minor scars during his training with Daelock. I look like a badass, he thought. He began staring into his own eyes, examining them. They looked tired and defeated. And while looking deep into his own eyes, he realized that it would become worse if he stayed. If the plan Niloy had was viable, he was leaving, and to hell with whatever repercussions ensued.

  “You can admire your dueling scars later. At least that’s what I’d tell people they were,” Niloy commented.

  “Damn! You’re a sneaky little bastard,” Dmitri whispered as he turned toward him. “You need to get out of here; Daelock hasn’t brought my dinner yet. He’ll be here shortly.”

  “Don’t worry about it; I heard Eod dispatch him to check on one of the traders that arrived by boat. He’ll be late, by my guess. I hope you weren’t too hungry. Besides, this won’t take too long,” Niloy said.

  Niloy pulled a map from the inside of his ragged robe and spread it out on the bed. He climbed up onto the bed, pushing the bed curtains aside, so that the little remaining sunlight from the window could allow them to see the aged ink. “Do you know what you found?” he asked.

  “A lake?” the Russian asked.

  “Yes, but according to these maps, this is an ancient dwarvish smuggling route,” he replied, ignoring the sarcasm.

  Unable to read the writing on the map, he asked, “How do you know?”

  Niloy pointed to a series of what looked like stacked blocks to Dmitri and answered, “Because it says so right there.” He added, “It says, ‘Secure water route to stash’ in dwarvish. From this and the other maps, it looks like an illegal trade route from Forge Outpost to here.”

  “Why would it be an illegal trade route?” Dmitri asked.

  “The dwarves stopped formal trade with the capital city over a hundred years ago, but in place of that, the illegal trade arose. Too many dwarves love their coin. Dwarvish metal—in particular, worked dwarven armor and weapons—are highly regarded. But rather than create their own metals and techniques, the humans began studying and stealing the methods that the dwarves used to craft their weapons and armor. But what caused it was that they also began to learn which metals the dwarves were using in their alloys. That sent the dwarves over the edge. It almost caused a war. Instead of war, King Silverbeard convinced the dwarvish trade guild that cutting trade would be better than the complete loss of revenue that a war would bring.”

  “So? How does that help us?”

  “We can follow the route out.” Niloy grinned and added, “My guess is that the dwarves shut this operation down, not Eod. This keep was built long ago. It’s human built, but my guess is that the dwarves took it over and after the route was closed, it was abandoned and Eod stumbled across it and claimed it as his own.”

  “Whatever. I don’t need the history lesson; I just need to get out of here. Besides, the canvas and the ropes on the boat that I found these maps on were all rotted away, and we will need a boat. There weren’t any paths from the dock into the water. And I’m not swimming in it.”

  “Is the boat too big to row?” Niloy asked him.

  “I didn’t see any oars on it, but I wasn’t looking for them either. Maybe you should go find out,” Dmitri suggested, already knowing the answer he would get.

  “I can’t; the mage has another ‘guest’ arriving. Remember the errand Daelock had to run?”

  Realizing that they had gotten engrossed in their planning, Dmitri looked at Niloy. “You need to get out of here before Daelock gets here. Go!”

  “Okay! Are you going to check on the boat again and see if we can row it?”

  “Yes. If we had to wait for you and your courage, we’d never be able to leave,” he replied.

  “Great!” the shelfling answered with a false smile on his face, appearing to ignore the insult.

  The insults were becoming too common with this one; Niloy was going to have to kill him once they got out of there, he decided. He folded the map and slipped out as Dmitri watched. Niloy even waved to the idiot human as he left.

  Dmitri waited until his evening meal had been brought and pretended to keep his normal routine. He lay in the dark until he was sure that they thought him asleep. He dressed quietly and slipped out of his room through the hidden door that Niloy had also used earlier, making his way to the dock. Arriving at the dock, he began searching both the boat and the dock for any oars, but he couldn’t find any. He did, however, see several oarlocks on the gunwale of the boat. He inspected them further, and though they were rusty, they could be used. He realized that they did have a chance to at least row out of there. Having found out what he needed to, he decided to return to his room and get some sleep, as he hadn’t had much of it the last couple nights.

  During his walk back, he began to contemplate his escape. They would have to row, he realized, as there hadn’t been any breeze blowing in that darkened cavern. There had been no wind blowing that was strong enough to push a sailboat. But where would they get the oars? And once they got out of the underground sea, were they going to need a sail? He thought that maybe they could use some of the timber from the dock and make the oars. If the dwarves that had sailed that boat to those docks had needed one to get in, they were going to need one to get out, he thought. And what about food and water for their escape? There was much to figure out, and a need for things that he had no way of getting. It dawned on him that he was going to have to depend on Niloy, and he wasn’t so sure of that little weasel. He hadn’t ever seen anything in the stables that they could use, but there had to be some oars that could be “borrowed” from the docks and boats that sat just outside the keep’s walls, he thought as he returned to his room. He hadn’t yet been allowed to leave the keep and he doubted he would be able to anytime soon. If they were going to try and obtain
rather than craft the oars, that little bug of a man was going to have to get them. There was still much to figure out to be able to get out of there, Dmitri thought as he fell asleep.

  The next day, the pair decided that they would dismantle part of the dock and use some of the longer pieces of timber to make the oars. There was no way for them to get down to the docks, get the oars, and then get them into the keep without someone noticing. They also determined that they were going to need a replacement sail for the boat. They quickly realized that was going to be impossible, since neither of them had any idea of how to determine what size canvas was needed, nor did they have any rope for it. But most importantly, since neither of them had any idea how to rig a sail, they decided that they would row as far as they could while hoping that the underground sea opened up close to shore. Better yet, one of the far shores, yet close enough so they could continue their escape on foot. Dmitri, having access to the blacksmith forge, managed to take a couple pieces that they would need from his shop without getting caught. He stole a small hatchet and the file the blacksmith used to trim the horses’ hooves. They would use the file to shape the wood into oars.

  The biggest difficulty was going to be locating an iron bar that was long enough to pry the wood up from the dock. Looking through the blacksmith shop, he didn’t see anything that he thought could be used. He had just about given up hope when he told Niloy that they needed something to pry the wood up, and he suggested that they steal a couple of pokers from the rooms they had access to using the secret doors. The little bastard did have his moments, Dmitri thought; it wasn’t perfect, but it was a good idea. Dmitri suggested that they gather all the things they were going to need and to stage them on the boat or the dock before they began working on the oars, so that way they could gauge whether their actions had aroused any suspicions. Dmitri had wandered through several more of the corridors and found a barrel that they could use to keep their stores in, as it had a wooden cap to seal it and a steel band that could be tightened using the edge of a knife. He had spent the better part of a full evening moving that single barrel down to the dock. He figured that would keep the rodents that roamed the hidden corridors out of it, and they could just roll it and carry it down to the boat when they were ready to leave.