Dead Druid: Claire-Agon Ranger Book 2 (Ranger Series)

by Salvador Mercer

  “What in Agon are you doing?” Dareen asked, eyes wide, and a couple of the children giggled, eliciting a hush from Gwenny.

  “We’re improvising,” Mary said, her face still a bright red from the reprimand she took from the kitchen boss.

  “I don’t understand . . .” Dareen trailed off.

  “Come on, don’t you slap me now too,” Mary said, motioning for Dareen to follow her.

  Mary led the way as the children stayed with Gwenny and Shiela. Not far down a short and narrow hallway was an antechamber, and Mary opened the door. There inside were three Kesh guards dressed in nothing more than their skivvies, all sitting with their heads on their hands on a large eating table. On the floor in front of her was the kitchen boss, a small amount of blood coming from behind his right ear, a large rolling pin lying beside him.

  “You didn’t kill him, did you?” Dareen asked.

  “Of course not,” Mary said, walking to the table and grabbing a set of leather gear and garb from one of the guards.

  “You can’t be serious,” Dareen said, eyeing Mary warily.

  “I am,” Mary said, walking over and handing the gear to her. “Gwenny is too slender and short for this. You’ll have to wear it.”

  “Why not just have the two of you do the wearing?” Dareen pleaded.

  “Don’t you know anything about these Kesh?” Mary asked, grabbing a black tunic and forcing it over Dareen’s head. “They always move in threes.”

  “That’s not true. I’ve seen them in ones and twos.” Dareen pulled her arms through and straightened the tunic out as Mary readied a pair of pants that looked too big for her.

  “Yeah, well, they start off in threes and then go to twos and ones when they have to. Look, I don’t make the orders, but if this cockamamie plan of yours is going to work, we gotta play the part.” Mary held the trousers out so Dareen could step into them, and then she offered Dareen a set of black boots, and Dareen cringed, smelling them from a distance.

  “I don’t think we should be dressing as them. They’ll kill us for sure,” Dareen said, cinching up the pants and pulling the belt as far as it would go.

  “Well, we can’t continue with your plan,” Mary said, looking Dareen over and nodding in approval. “That nightshade you gave us would only knock out a dozen or so guards, and there are at least twice that many.”

  Dareen was disheartened. Her plan was to knock out the gate guards and then escape with the children. Now Mary was telling her that the gate guards were wide awake. “Well then, we have no hope of getting out the gate.”

  “Maybe,” Mary said, holding the last boot out, and Dareen tried not to inhale too strongly when she put her foot in it. “You see, we still put the shade in all their drinks and spiked it with a stash of rum from the boss’s private pantry, so they should be grogged up but good by the time we get out there.”

  “What in Agon do you mean by rum and grogged up?” Dareen asked.

  “The rum is a sweeter liquor, and they’ll think they just had extra honey in their tea, and grogged up means drunk, you silly Ulathan.” Mary smiled, handing Dareen a large helmet and then donning her own.

  It wasn’t pleasant, but the transformation was complete, and they returned to the kitchen without further word. Dareen was scared so much that she practically shook and she had to steel her nerves to keep calm. She noticed that the Rockton women were worse off, all three visibly shaking or twitching, and only the children seemed content, thinking this as some sort of game.

  “Ready for hide and seek?” Gwenny asked the children.

  “Ready,” they all whispered, and Dareen understood her earlier thoughts.

  “It’s now or never, Ulathan woman,” Mary said.

  “Please, Dareen would be preferred.”

  Mary nodded and then whispered, “Let me do the talking when we get to the gate, agreed?”

  Dareen nodded. “All right, though you don’t have to do this. I can handle it.”

  “No, you can’t. You’ll see,” Mary said, giving Dareen a wink and a nod, and she left the room, followed by Shiela and then Gwenny holding hands with the children in a line, leaving Dareen to follow last.

  Mary led them through several passages, stopping only once to have Dareen unlock a barred gate near the main entryway. Moving silently, they found themselves exiting a side door that led through what looked like an unkept garden overrun with weeds and bushes. Dareen realized that Mary knew the castle grounds better than she could have hoped, and kept them focused until they reached the corner of the complex not far from the main gate. The light was dim, though the oil-burning lamps seemed way too bright for Dareen’s tastes. She put her hand on the sheath that was on the belt and realized she had no weapon.

  “Wait, Mary,” Dareen hissed, walking past the children who crouched by the side of the dark stone structure.

  “What is it, Dareen?” Mary asked, her voice barely audible. “Now is not the time.”

  “I don’t have a sword,” Dareen said, motioning to her empty sheath.

  “None of us do,” Mary hissed back. “They’re too heavy to carry. Just act like you have one.” Dareen started to wonder if this was going to work, and then Mary said one more thing. “I can get us out, but once we are free of the castle, it’s your turn.”

  Dareen nodded, understanding that while Mary now knew every twist and turn of the Kesh fortress, she had no clue about what lay outside, and Dareen wasn’t very confident either, having been dragged once to the castle and walked another time to the stockade. She took a deep breath, and they crossed the courtyard when Mary nodded, apparently timing the wall guards on top so that they had a small window in which to cross.

  The entire group entered the main gate area and leaned against the inner wall of the gate tunnel. The guards on top could no longer see them, but they felt exposed nonetheless. Dareen felt panic when she heard a voice coming from a large wooden door with a barred window, and Gwenny motioned for the children to sit below its vantage point.

  “Who goez there?” the guard asked, opening a small wooden trapdoor and peering through the opening.

  “Specialz deliveries for da masters,” Mary said in a deep tone, trying to sound like a man.

  “Whatz deliveries would dat be and whatz up with da timing, eh?” the guard asked.

  “Nonez of youze damn business, Ke—” Mary almost gave them away, forgetting that a Kesh would not call another Kesh by the same name. “Can’t you just open da side door for me andz me companions?”

  The other guard hesitated for a moment, and Dareen wondered if the man wasn’t a hundred percent fully lucid and capable of thinking. Perhaps this guard hated tea. “Da masters are in da castle, you dumb oaf.”

  Mary didn’t miss a beat, lowering her helmeted head and hitting the small iron-barred peephole with the top of her helmet. “Not dem masters, da other masters.”

  Dareen understood that Mary didn’t know any better. She only knew of the masters, so Dareen stepped up, and in her gruffest voice, said, “Dem master commanders, fool.”

  Mary looked sideways at Dareen, and Dareen could only shrug.

  “All right, fine, you’z stupid porters. What’z da delivery?” he asked.

  “Stuff,” Mary said. Now it was time for Dareen to give Mary a look, and Mary returned it the same way Dareen had—by shrugging.

  The other guard slammed the peephole closed and then yelled up to someone unseen. “Gatez a openin’. Two passin’ for da commanders.”

  There was no answer, and the guard repeated himself. “You’z awake up there’z?”

  “Quit you’rz bellyaching, Gates, and just sends ’em through,” a voice yelled back from on top.

  “Threes, you dumb arse,” Mary yelled through the peephole.

  “Finez, three fools comin’ thruz,” the guard yelled.

  Slowly the gate rumbled open and the drawbridge lowered, allowing them to walk over it and past the dry moat. When they stepped on the other side of the portcullis, Mar
y motioned for Gwenny and she led the children along the base of the wall, fully exposed by any casual observer within a half mile, all except the wall guards unless they were looking straight down, and they weren’t.

  Mary, Shiela, and Dareen walked across, stomping loudly to mask any sound from the children and to sound more like booted soldiers and not delicate, petite women. When they had crossed, the gate rumbled back down, disappearing as the bridge was raised, and Dareen ventured a look back in the dark gloom. High upon the wall stood guards, a couple walking, a couple appearing to lean against the crenelated wall, but none of them paid them the slightest heed.

  Mary hissed, drawing Dareen from her observations. “Which way?”

  “Down here, follow me,” Dareen said, walking down the dirt road toward the slave pits until they reached the edge of the castle wall.

  Dareen and Mary looked up, and a guard stood looking past them far away. They stood there for moment, and then the guard shuffled along the wall and turned left at the top edge to continue walking away from them, looking out toward the east. With a quick gesture, Dareen motioned for Gwenny, and she led the children into the dry moat and then struggled to rise on the other side by the road.

  Mary and Shiela moved quickly to help, and soon they were all standing exposed on the road. Mary whispered again, “This doesn’t look good.”

  Dareen sighed and then said, “Screw it, follow me.”

  Ann came up and took her mother’s hand in her own. “You sound like one of those Kesh, Mommy.”

  Dareen felt badly for her words and then quickened her pace toward the berm that held the pit and stockade. “I’m sorry, Ann. I’m trying to act like a Kesh, but we won’t have to do this again. Now, everyone, follow me.”

  They followed Dareen almost to the pit, and then she veered off and paralleled the berm, walking due south and keeping the stockade with the armed guards out of sight. Just when she was about to stop and head down the berm with the children, they all heard a sound that sent shivers through their bodies.

  The warning bell from the castle began to toll. Their escape had been discovered.

  Chapter 22

  Convergence

  The pace was grueling, but Targon refused to slow and accommodate Dorsun. The Kesh chieftain was going to have to keep up. It had been a long night. Elister finally had to split their group up, and both Dorsun and Khan weren’t too happy about it at first, but they both eventually accepted the dead druid’s counsel.

  After their discussion, Elister tasked Dorsun with accompanying Targon to Kesh to free his family. Argyll would fly high overhead and find the caravan that was supposed to carry them, and Targon would look for him to spot its location. Since time was short, both Targon and Dorsun left immediately, not sleeping nor waiting for the morning dawn.

  Elister explained that the last word of Dareen’s execution was what Argyll had seen, or at least, that is how the falcon interpreted her being taken to the castle. He had seen it all from over a mile overhead. Khan’s magic orb, however, had revealed that very night that Dareen was in the process of escaping with many children and what looked like two Kesh guards until Elister finally understood that they were slaves in disguise.

  Combining Argyll’s information of the caravan escape, Dareen’s initial plan, with what he saw in Khan’s critir, convinced the druid that they were still seeking escape in the same manner and he relayed that information to Targon, but there was one major problem. Argyll explained that the most recent caravans had stopped entering Ulatha and were traveling only to the mountain pass. The bricks were being used to reinforce the wall, as all the summer attacks left the Kesh feeling vulnerable there. If they were discovered before someone could intercept them, they’d either be killed for sure or taken back into Kesh and dealt with harshly.

  “Go, fulfil your oath to your family and free them,” Elister had commanded to his Zashitor, his Ranger.

  Horace had volunteered to go, but even Targon knew that speed was essential and only Dorsun had the constitution and stamina to keep up with the speedy Ulathan Ranger, especially over rough ground. Each man had taken as much rope as they could carry, rope that they had pillaged from the caravans that summer and kept in the barn in case they needed it.

  The second group consisted of Khan, Salina, Will, and Cedric. Elister would lead them to the Terrel ford on the Rapid River, and then they would be on their own. They were tasked with finding the lost book of the historian Diamedes within the late king’s chamber in Korwell and then returning with it. The green dragon would have to wait, Elister explained, and he indicated that they should sleep a few hours and then leave at dawn.

  “Is it safe to cross?” Dorsun asked, breathing heavily and sounding like a bear to Targon’s ears. The ranger crouched next to the ancient trade road at the base of the mountains where the Blackthorn ended and the rocky slopes began.

  “Shhh, you’ll be heard for sure,” Targon replied, looking around for signs of activity. “We’ll need to follow the road up a ways before we can cross north again.”

  “Where are we headed?” Dorsun asked, trying to stifle his breathing and not doing a very good job of it.

  “Kesh,” Targon said absentmindedly.

  “I understand that part, but how?” Dorsun asked, sounding as if his patience was being tested.

  “We will find Core and Marissa and then enter Kesh and do our job,” Targon said, taking a moment to measure the man and see if he appeared ready to continue up the mountainside.

  “Do you track the bear now?” Dorsun asked, his eyes wide.

  “No,” Targon explained, “I think I already know where they are.”

  Dorsun nodded and then, when sure the Kesh fighter had caught his breath, Targon crossed the road to the northeast and followed it in a southeasterly fashion, keeping to the berm where he could, running on the road itself when the terrain was too rocky. He kept the pace manageable and made an internal note that this particular brigand was not one to complain. The man did his best to keep up with the quicker Ulathan.

  Soon, the sky started to brighten, and it became easier to see in the dim light. Both Tira and Sara had already set for the night, so the coming dawn was of some benefit for the Kesh, if not Targon. Nothing was heard nor seen on the road; the Kesh had long ago forsaken any kind of travel along it unless it was accompanied by a sufficient fighting force. Still, both men felt exposed, and it wasn’t until they neared the summit’s pass that they felt better, exiting the area and heading northeast again. Dorsun felt as if they were backtracking after traveling in the wrong direction.

  “The gate is not far from here.” Targon pointed up the road where it disappeared around a rocky crag clinging to an even larger cliff.

  “I know,” Dorsun said stiffly but evenly. “I helped build it.”

  “Fine, but now we head toward a mountain meadow that I don’t think you know about.”

  Dorsun nodded, which Targon took as a sign that he was correct, so Targon led the way, working through various game trails and continuing to climb high up into the mountains. The dragon’s fire rose, and the rays started to warm the chill air even this high up. Targon felt the air getting lighter, and Dorsun looked pale. The Ranger took more breaks than usual, and Dorsun seemed to approve, never taking more time than he needed and nodding once he was ready to go. After a couple of hours, they entered the meadow from behind two large boulders.

  The short grass swayed in the slight breeze, and the entire area seemed devoid of life or activity. “What is it?” Dorsun asked, peering around at the small golden flowers that dotted the meadow inviting them to lay and rest their weary legs for a bit.

  “I thought I’d see Core and Marissa here for sure,” Targon said, motioning for Dorsun to follow.

  The pair quickly crossed several hundred feet to the far eastern side and scrambled up the twenty-foot steep ledge that overlooked Kesh, using both hands to steady themselves in the process. Once on top, the men looked out at a semi-arid land and not
ed the ancient road that snaked out from the mountain pass far to the lower right. Gentle hills swallowed the road in the distance until it disappeared out of sight.

  “So we continue?” Dorsun asked, nodding and pulling the coil of rope from around his shoulder and arm and laying it on the ground.

  “Yes, we don’t wait. Time to move,” Targon said, doing the same with his coil of rope.

  A rock landed at both men’s feet, and they turned, whirling and reaching for their weapons till they saw the slender figure dressed in all brown leathers standing with her hands on her hips. “You better wait for us.”

  “Marissa, where were you?” Targon asked.

  “Back in a cave sleeping,” she said, pointing behind her and to the south end of the meadow.

  “Where’s Core?” Targon asked, not seeing the large bear anywhere.

  “He’s still sleeping. We were up all night trying to sleep a bit till I heard that Kesh breathing so loudly, and it’s about time you called him by his proper name,” Marissa said, lightly skipping up the slope and also using her hands to scale the ledge with Targon’s hand the last hold for her to use as she reached them and looked over the cliff edge.

  “I’ve always called him by his proper name,” Targon said defensively, also looking over the ledge.

  “Not so, Targon. You liked to insult him and call him a vegetable.” Marissa whistled.

  “I haven’t called him Carrot in a long time, and he never minded before,” Targon said, pulling Marissa back a bit as she was right on the edge, looking down.

  “Now that looks worse than it did last night.” She looked at Targon and then Dorsun.

  “The drop?” Targon asked.

  “Yeah,” Marissa said, lowering her eyes to look at the rope. “Do you think it will be enough?”

  Targon looked back over, as did Dorsun. “Well, it looks like a hundred feet or so, and we have two coils, each about the same length. It should be enough.” Targon nodded at the rope.