by Morgan Rice
“Plus, they don't need walls to defend it," O’Connor said, "because nobody would be stupid enough to attack. There are thousands of Empire here. And nothing around this place for miles.”
"Why would the thieves bring the Sword to this place?" Elden asked.
Thor studied the ground, and saw the tracks heading in that direction.
"It doesn't make sense,” Reece added.
Thor shrugged.
"Like the boy said, maybe it's a stop for them, on the road to somewhere else.”
As one, they all set off on the trail towards the city, each of them tensing up, hands on their scabbards.
"It won't be long until we’re spotted," Reece said. "You see that crop of rock there? We should head to it and stay close along its edge, in the shadows. Otherwise they’ll see us.”
"But the boy said not to go off the path," O'Connor said.
Reece shrugged.
"We won’t be far off the path. And I'd rather take my chances with whatever's out there than with the Empire.”
Thor could feel them all looking to him to make the final decision. He could see both points of view, and it was not an easy call.
Finally, he nodded back.
“The path is a guaranteed death,” Thor said. “The rock is not. Let's go to the rock.”
As one, they all hurried off the path, sticking close to the huge outcropping of rock so as not to be detected. They slowly approached the city. Hardly a hundred yards away, they could begin to hear the cries and moans of the slaves, suffering beneath the abuse of the Empire soldiers. The city was filled with the sound of cracking whips, and of bursting flames, shooting up everywhere.
As they neared, Thor saw metal structures built into the ground from which dangled some sort of mining apparatus; the slaves, held by thick iron shackles, guided them to massive holes, striking again and again into the ground. As they dug deeper into the holes, flames shot up and into the structure.
"What are they doing?" Conval asked.
"It looks like they’re mining something," Elden said.
"But what?”
They all shrugged, at a loss.
Before they could take another step, suddenly O'Connor screamed out—and they all stopped and turned. Thor looked down and saw the long, bony hand of a beast shoot up from the sand and grab O'Connor's calf. It wrapped its claws around him and yanked O'Connor, dragging him down, sinking into the sand.
Thor was first to react, stepping forward with his sword and slashing the creature's wrist. There came a muted screeching noise, from somewhere beneath the sand, and the creature’s arm slunk back down to the ground. But the hand, severed, still clung to O’Connor's calf, screaming; Krohn, snarling, leapt forward and bit it, and the hand let go and scurried across the sand, then dove down beneath the surface, too.
The boys looked at each other in wonder.
But they had no time to figure it out, because suddenly, dozens of creatures’ arms started popping out from the sand, all around them. Thor finally understood why the boy told them not to veer from the path.
Thor jumped out of the way as a hand shot out for his leg—he leapt over it and crushed it with his boot. But then another surfaced and scratched his ankle.
"Run!" Thor said. “Back to the path!”
As one they all ran, slashing down with their swords, trying their best to avoid the claws. Thor’s legs stung in pain as he was clawed and scratched incessantly. Krohn snarled and jumped as he ran, snapping at the hands that emerged from the sand.
They sprinted for their lives, leaping more than running, and finally they made it back onto the path, just steps outside the city.
They all kept running, trying to enter the city quickly enough so as not to be seen. Thor led them into the city and down a narrow alleyway between two buildings where there seemed to be few Empire soldiers, and which was thronged with slaves.
The slaves stopped their work, the sound of their chisels slowing, and turned and looked at them in wonder. Their eyes were wide open: clearly they had never seen free people in these streets before.
"Who are you?" asked one of them.
Thor turned and saw a large man, face covered in dirt, leaning back on his pick, surveying the group. Dozens of other slaves gathered.
"We've come from the Ring," Thor said. "We are on a quest, to find something that was stolen from us. We seek a dozen men, carrying a sword. We were told they came to this city. Have you seen them?”
The large slave shook his head.
"You have made a grave mistake to come here,” he said in his low voice, as more and more people gathered. “You will not leave alive. No one leaves alive. The Empire troops are everywhere. There is no escape.”
"Free us!" cried another slave.
“Yes, free us!” cried another, holding up his chains, desperate. “Or we will alert the guards to your presence!”
Thor drew his sword, as did the others.
"You will do no such thing,” Reece warned.
“We will free you if you tell us where the men went with the Sword," Thor said.
"We have no fear of you," said the large slave, stepping forward, scowling down at them. "Do you know what it is that we mine here? Fire!”
"Fire?" Thor asked, puzzled.
The slave turned with his pick, and struck the ground again and again. After several seconds, a burst of flame shot into the air, and the large metal structure glowed orange, absorbing the flames.
"These are the fire mines," another slave said, stepping forward defiantly. "One of the worst places you can be sent in the Empire. There is nothing you or your swords can do to us which they have not done already. So now free us. This is your last chance. If you do not, we will summon the guards!”
Thor stood there, wavering.
"Don’t do it," Elden said.
“If you free them,” Reece said, “they will start a commotion, and it will give us away.”
"Free us!" screamed the group of slaves, louder and louder.
Thor and the others looked nervously about, and in the distance he saw several guards turn their way.
"GUARDS!" screamed a slave.
“GUARDS!” the others echoed.
“Run!" Thor said, not wanting a confrontation. "This way!”
They all ran down an alleyway, twisting and turning their way deeper into Slave City, past rows of slaves, all of whom stopped and looked as they went. Thor checked back over his shoulder, and his stomach dropped at what he saw: dozens of Empire troops bore down on them.
A horn sounded, and dozens more troops joined them, pouring in from all directions.
They were quickly surrounded, soldiers charging them from all directions, and there was nowhere to go.
"Over here!" came a voice.
Thor turned and saw a single slave girl, chained to a post, gesturing wildly towards them. With long, wild black hair, and a pretty face covered in dirt, she had desperate, flashing black eyes. She lifted a huge metal trap door into the earth, and gestured for them to run towards her.
"Inside, quickly!" she yelled. "I will hide you!”
Thor looked at the others, who were skeptical; but then they turned and saw all the troops bearing down on them, and realized they didn't have much choice. He didn't want to enter into a battle with thousands of Empire troops, and certainly not here, in these close quarters, and in a place he did not know. He would have to trust her.
Thor nodded and the others all turned and raced with him for the open compartment, diving in head-first, Krohn diving in beside him. Thor dove into the shallow hole in the earth, the others diving on top of him, all sandwiched in like sardines, and the girl slammed the lid down on top of them—making their world blackness.
Krohn nestled up against Thor, and it was hard to breathe in here. Thor’s heart pounded and he could not help but wonder if they were being set up, if it was all a trap. He wondered if maybe it had been stupid to dive down here, to trust her.
The sounds above
them became muffled, and Thor heard the girl stand on the metal lid, and then heard the footsteps of dozens of soldiers running past. After several seconds, the ground above became quiet, and the girl lifted the compartment.
The metal door opened slowly, harsh light pouring in, and Thor saw the girl’s face, gesturing quickly for them to get up. They all scrambled out and she led them to the shadows of a wall, standing beside them, her wrists shackled in heavy iron chains.
"Free me," she said, her eyes wild, desperate. “Cut my shackles!”
Thor examined her: she was tall and broad and bony, nearly as tall as Elden, with plain features, and large black eyes. She was covered in dirt, and had a wild, crazed look to her, and a toughness that Thor rarely saw in a girl. She also had a bit of a shady, wily look, and Thor didn't feel as if they could entirely trust her. She was clearly a survivor.
"And why should we?" Elden asked firmly, stepping close to her.
She looked up at Elden, examining him, and he looked closely at her, too.
"Because I will lead you out of here!” she said. “No one else knows this city as I. If you don't follow me, you will certainly be caught and enslaved by these guards. But I know a way out. There isn’t much time. Do you want to trust me?”
Thor shook his head.
“We appreciate your offer, but we didn’t come to this city to run away,” he said. “We came to find a sword, and the group of men bearing it.”
“I know where they went,” she said.
They all looked at her, wide-eyed.
“And how would you know that?” Conval asked.
“Because they are thieves,” she said. “And so am I. Thieves always know where each other go.”
The boys all looked at each other, surprised by her candor.
“I can lead you on their trail,” she added. “It leads out of the city. They are not here.”
Elden narrowed his eyes, distrustful.
"Why don’t you just tell us how to go and we’ll be on our way," Elden said.
Thor could see something he hadn’t seen before in Elden’s expression; he seemed more than merely curious. He seemed interested in this girl.
She shook her head.
“That’s not the deal,” she said. “Either I go with you, or not at all.”
“Why do you want to come with us?” he asked.
“I want to leave here, too,” she said, “and this is my chance.”
"And how can we trust you—a thief?” Reece chimed in.
“You can’t,” she answered. “But you have to trust someone. Free me now!” she demanded, looking both ways down the alley as a guard ran past, “or else, I will be content to just watch you die here!”
Elden looked at her long and hard.
"I say we free her," Elden said.
"And trust our lives in the hands of this slave girl?" O'Connor called out. “This thief? She could be leading us to a trap.”
“She might have no idea where the Sword is,” Conval added.
"What choice do we have?" Reece asked.
They all looked to Thor.
Thor cleared his throat.
“The way I see it,” Thor said, “she saved our lives once already. She didn’t have to. We need to find the Sword, and she says she knows where it is. That’s better than what we have now, which is nothing. Thief or not, slave or not, I say we trust her.”
Thor stepped forward, close to her, and raised his sword.
“If you lead us to safety, and on the trail of the thieves,” Thor said, “I promise to protect you. If you betray us, I promise I will kill you.”
"I don't need your protection,” she sneered, defiant. “Now stop talking and get me out of here!”
Elden stepped forward, raised his sword and brought it down in a single clean stroke. With a decisive clink, he severed her chain.
"Follow me!" she said, not wasting a beat as she took off at a sprint, twisting and turning down the narrow alleyways of the city.
Thor and the others did not wait a second longer; they took off after her as she twisted and turned, darting down the alleyways, leading them deeper and deeper into Slave City. Groups of slaves, chained to each other, turned and reached out and yelled at them as they went, trying to grab them, to stop them. But they ran too quickly.
The girl was incredible, like a living map. She clearly knew every inch of the city, and she took sharp turns through narrow alleyways that Thor could hardly imagine. The six of them stayed close, Krohn by Thor’s side, as they weaved their way out of the city, heading clear through to the other end. It was hot and dusty as they ran, and the streets, filled with the sounds of whips and cries and machinery, began to become filled with something else: the sounds of slaves rising up, looking their way, and calling out.
Suddenly, an Empire taskmaster stepped forward with a whip and lashed the girl hard across her back.
She cried out in pain and stumbled, falling flat on her face.
“Get back to work, slave girl!” the taskmaster yelled.
Elden, red with rage, didn’t even slow as he continued to sprint, raised his sword and swung it for the taskmaster. The taskmaster turned and caught a glimpse of Elden, and his eyes opened wide with fear; but there was no time for him to react.
Elden chopped off the man’s head and continued running without even slowing. He then reached down, picked up the girl by the arm and dragged her up, helping her back on her feet, to run with them.
Thor turned and saw dozens more troops gathering, chasing them. He looked forward, saw the city limits before them, and saw a wide open expanse, an open field that would leave them vulnerable once they exited—especially with the large contingent following them.
Thor ran up beside the girl, trying to catch his breath.
"You are leading us out of the city and into the open fields!" Thor yelled. "We will be exposed! How shall we outrun them in the open?”
"Those fields are not open," she said, gasping for air. "Trust me."
They all ran as one, bursting out into the open fields; Thor did not understand what she meant, but he knew they had no choice: they had to trust her.
They followed her out into the open field, Thor wondering what trick she had up her sleeve, as suddenly a huge flame burst out of the ground, right beside Thor, and singed his sleeve. He jumped back, barely avoiding it, and continued to run.
"What was that?" he screamed.
"The fire fields!" she yelled back. "Look behind you. Do you see the Empire troops?”
Thor turned as he ran and saw the dozens of Empire troops had stopped, standing at the edge of the city, wavering, unsure whether to follow.
"They are not crazy enough to pursue us out here!” she yelled.
Before she could finish her sentence, another huge flame shot up into the air, near O'Connor, who screamed out as the flame burned his forearm. He reached over and swatted it, putting it out.
"Where have you taken us?" he screamed to her.
"It is our only hope to freedom!” she screamed back. “And it is the path the thieves took!”
Thor checked over his shoulder again, and saw a handful of troops break off from the group and decide to chase after them. As he watched, one of them ran right into a huge ball of flames—screaming, he collapsed to the ground, dead.
Flames shot up around them with greater frequency as they went, and Thor weaved left and right, hoping and praying they could survive this minefield of flames. All around him his brothers did the same, as did Krohn, who was whining and snarling as they went, snapping at the balls of fire. A flame singed his leg and he whined and jumped, but kept running.
“When does this end?" Thor yelled to the girl.
Thor heard a scream and watched another Empire soldier get burned to death, shrieking.
"There!" the girl screamed, pointing. "See there, in the distance?”
Thor looked, and began to see a raging river come into view, up ahead.
"That is our way out!” she scream
ed. “If we make it!”
"Our way out?" Thor asked, in disbelief.
This plan was crazier than he thought: the river’s waters were foaming and raging, and he could not see how its waters would be much safer than this minefield.
Still, they had no choice. The girl increased her speed and so did they. Thor prayed to God with all his might that a ball of flame not consume him before he could reach the waters. He tried to run as fast and as light as he could.
Thor’s face was black with soot as they closed in on the river, hardly ten feet away, the sound of its gushing waters deafening—when suddenly a ball of flame rose up before him. He didn’t have time to slow.
Thor raised his arms to his face as his whole body was consumed in the fire. He screamed as he began to catch fire, sprinting with all he had and leaping, in flames, into the raging current.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Lord Kultin marched with purpose down the stone corridors of King’s Court, his dozens of soldiers behind him, looking forward to betraying Gareth, slicing his throat, and seizing his throne for himself.
Kultin had been biding his time for way too long, putting up with Gareth’s nonsense only because the pay was good and the Shield was up and for a while it seemed as if Gareth would rule forever. But once Andronicus breeched the Ring, Kultin knew Gareth’s days were numbered, and he knew the time had come. At first Kultin was just going to abandon Gareth; but then, when he saw what a weak and pathetic king he was, it sickened him. He knew that he, himself, could be a better king, and that that was exactly what King’s Court needed now. Not Gareth, not his sister and not any more MacGils—but rather he, Lord Kultin, a real man, a mercenary who could take the throne by force. For centuries, that was how kings were made, and Kultin felt it was time to reinstate the old way. After all, who better merited being a king than he who had seized the throne not by entitlement but by power?
Kultin quickened his pace, looking forward to Gareth’s expression when he marched into the little weasel’s chamber and defied his command, when he threw him from his throne and killed him on the spot. He might allow Gareth to beg for a little while. But no matter what he said, in the end, he would do what everyone in King’s Court wanted: he would kill the king.
