by Bruce Leslie
Flynn dropped his hand from his chin. “From where do you think he commands?”
“He fancies himself an Emperor now.” Meena walked forward and beckoned for her companions to follow. “He will lead from the throne room.”
Flynn and the Lump followed Meena as she moved briskly toward the castle. Footmen ran toward both the postern and front gates, other groups of men ran with buckets of water to dowse flames. Everyone seemed too concerned with the assault to notice the three figures trotting across the grounds. Well, almost everyone.
A cluster of four guards passed within a few paces of the interlopers. Their heads turned in unison as the strange trio caught their attention.
One guard stopped and pointed his halberd. “Hey, you there! You shouldn’t be about the grounds!”
The Lumped nodded and flashed a nervous smile. “Sure.” He pointed at the castle. “We’ll just get back inside.”
The four guards stepped closer. The one with the lowered halberd said, “Halt!” He asked, “Who are you?”
Another guard pointed. “Look at the size of him! He must be the Drag—”
Flynn leaped at the man and smashed his cudgel into the pointing guard’s head.
The guard’s helm flew off and he dropped to one knee. He let out a confused moan and rubbed his head.
The Lump winced as a halberd rushed toward his face in a furious swing.
The onrushing halberd clacked against Meena’s staff, she lunged the length of ash forward in time to ensure her friends head remained attached to his shoulders.
Flynn swung his cudgel at the kneeling soldier. Before his blow could land, pain shot up his side as a boot crashed into his flank. He dived to the ground to avoid a swing at his head.
The fourth guard, the only one not yet involved in the fight, shouted. “Help! We have the Dragonblinder! And the witch! And one of the Hill-Folk.”
Flynn rolled across the ground, toward the shouting man. “I’m not Hill-Folk!” He smashed his cudgel into the side of the man’s knee, dropping the guard to the ground instantly.
The Lump yanked his small sword from its loop. The blade glowed gray when he jerked it up to intercept another halberd blow. The tiny, glowing blade cut through the shaft of the weapon as easily as if it were air.
The guard stared at the wooden pole in his hands, the weapon’s head no longer attached. After a brief moment of hesitation, he dropped what remained of the shaft and ran away.
The Lump narrowed his eyes and looked at his glowing blade. “So that’s what it does.”
Meena crouched low and swung her staff.
A guard yelped in surprise as his feet flew out from under him. He made a hollow thud as his back crashed to the ground, knocking the wind from his lungs.
Meena rose and spun. Her staff slammed into the forehead of another guard, and the man reeled backward with his arms flailing.
Flynn bounced to his feet and slammed his cudgel into the back off the guard he had just knee-capped. The man groaned, then fell silent.
Chaos reigned within the walls of Molgadon. The small skirmish drew no attention amidst all the turmoil. People continued to rush about, some fighting fires while most were mounting defenses against the army at the gates.
As Meena, Flynn, and the Lump sprinted toward the castle, they heard orders for a sortie to be sent out, tasked with driving the attackers away from the gate.
“Are they going to survive out there without us?” asked the Lump, between heavy breaths.
“They can hold their position,” answered Meena. “They don’t have to advance, they just need to keep the Gallisians occupied.”
“But Meena…” The Lump wiped his forehead with the back of one hand. “Most of them ain’t ever been in a fight before.”
Just then, off in the distance, a blood curdling shout rose up above the din. “Those bears! Someone please, do something about those bears!”
Meena turned and raised an eyebrow. “I think they are holding up fine.”
They reached the castle and held themselves flat against the base of one of its towers.
“What do we do now?” asked Flynn.
“We slide along the stone,” answered Meena. “We need to find a way inside.”
They slid along about thirty paces when a wooden door flew open. The three of them crouched down and watched a dozen soldiers file out and run the other direction.
Flynn darted forward and caught the door before it swung shut. Meena swept around him and entered, followed by the Lump. Flynn entered last and pulled the door gently closed behind him.
Now inside the castle, they found themselves at the base of a long, winding stairwell. The best they could tell, doors were present to the side of each level, though none of the doors were marked.
“Where should we go?” asked Flynn.
The Lump chuckled. “From here, the only direction we can go is up.” He squeezed past Flynn and climbed the stairs. His companions followed.
They made it up the first two fights when they heard boots crashing against the stone stairs as another bevy of soldiers descended.
Meena scampered to the side and put her hand against a plain, wooden door. “Quick! This way!” She pushed the door open and ran through.
The Lump shoved Flynn through the open door, then shuffled in as well. Once all three were in the chamber, Meena closed the door softly. The chamber was dimly lit by the rays of the steadily rising sun.
“Um, Meena.” The Lump rubbed his bearded chin while he stared at one corner of the room. “It looks like this spot is occupied.”
Meena turned to look. She gasped at what she saw.
Huddled in the corner of the room was a yellow-haired girl of about ten years with her arms around a boy that looked half her age. They were both clad in long, white nightshirts that stretched to their ankles, and wore yellow, silk slippers on their feet. The children’s eyes glistened with newly formed tears.
Meena knelt so that she stood no higher than the frightened youngsters. “We do not mean to frighten you, but I must ask that you do not cry out.”
The Lump crouched down, though he could not make himself so small as Meena. “I promise you, we ain’t gonna hurt you.” He smiled and asked, “Do you believe me?”
The girl answered with a silent nod.
“Will you tell us your names?” asked Meena.
“The bad man killed our father,” said the girl in reply.
“I’m sorry,” said the Lump. “Who was your pop?”
The girl wrinkled her forehead. “Pop?”
“He means your father,” said Flynn, now crouching as well.
The girl said, “He was the High Chancellor.”
“He was second only to the King,” added the little boy. “The bad man came and killed them both.” He sniffed to hold back his tears.
“Can you help us?” asked the yellow-haired girl. “Please, get us away from here.”
The Lump nodded, careful to maintain his smile. “Would you tell us your names, so we know what to call you?”
“I am Bekka,” answered the girl. She gave the boy a squeeze. “This is my brother, Melvin.”
“Thank you,” said Meena. “Bekka, we will come back for you, I promise, but we have to stop the bad man first.”
The Lump turned to Meena and his smile disappeared. “We can’t leave these little ones here all alone.” He glanced at the children, then back to Meena. “They’re scared to death.”
Meena sighed. “Bekka, I can tell you and your brother how to escape, but I need to know if you can tell me where the bad man is first.”
Bekka nodded. “I can tell you that.”
The Lump growled. “Meena, you’re not planning to send them out in the middle of a battle all alone, are you?”
“They’re small,” said Meena. “They can slip through the tunnel and cross the river without being noticed. The folk on the north bank will look after them.”
“But they can’t go alone!” The Lump stood a
nd buried a big thumb in the middle of his chest. “We need to take them.”
Meena stood and gripped her staff tightly. “Then they’ll have to wait until we rescue my parents.” She looked at the children, then back at the Lump. “As long as Eugene is free, no young ones anywhere are safe.”
Flynn rose and took a step forward. “I can take them across.”
Meena shook her head. “No, we need you here.”
The Lump frowned with genuine sorrow. “Isn’t there something we can do?”
“Perhaps.” Meena knelt again. “Children, tell me, are there any hounds in the castle?”
“There’s a kennel,” answered Bekka, “but it’s down below.”
Meena stood and put a hand on her head. “If we had hounds, I could have them deliver the children.”
Flynn lowered his face. “I think they’ll just have to hide here until we return.”
Meena turned to the children once again. “The sooner we find the bad man, the sooner we can get you to safety.” She leaned down. “Please, can you tell me where to find him.”
Bekka climbed to her feet. “I could show you, I’m not afraid.” She crossed her tiny arms. “My father always told I am very brave.” Her eyes dropped. “But, the guards won’t let us leave this room.”
Flynn held his hands wide. “There’s a lot going on outside, I think the guards may not be at their post.”
The Lump smirked. “And if they are…” He shrugged. “Well, they wouldn’t be the first guards we’ve scrapped with this morning.”
Bekka looked at her brother. “Melvin, stay here.”
Melvin nodded.
Bekka looked at Meena, her arms still crossed. “He never listens to anyone.” She uncrossed her arms and beckoned. “Let’s go, I’ll show you how I sneak into the throne room.”
The girl walked to the far stone wall and ran her hand across it. She looked back over her shoulder and asked, “Are you sure the guard is gone?”
The Lump shrugged. “I’m pretty sure, but if he ain’t, we can deal with him.”
Bekka turned back to the wall and pushed. A small, hidden door, barely taller than the child, opened. She stepped through it.
Meena, Flynn, and the Lump stooped and followed. Beyond the door they were relieved they could stand upright. They were also happy that, indeed, there was no guard.
Bekka led them through a network of narrow corridors. “These are for the chambermaids, or at least they were. Father always told me not to play in them, but Melvin and I played here anyway.”
“And they lead to the throne room?” asked Meena.
“Of course, silly,” answered Bekka. “It’s right there.” She pointed at another small door.
The Lump cocked his head to one side. “Are you ready to do this?”
Before anyone could answer, Bekka pushed the door open.
Meena shouted, “Wait!”
Her plea came too late. The door swung open and every set of eyes in the room beyond it turned to stare at the unexpected occurrence.
Eugene leaned over a table with a map of the castle grounds spread upon it. Next to him stood Ivan, the sniveling quarryman, brigand, and dragon cultist. Eugene had kept his loathsome minion near at hand.
Four footmen with furs draped over their shoulders also stood around the heavy, oaken table, and a half-dozen guards stood near the chamber’s main entry.
In one corner, with their hands bound and mouths gagged, stood Johanna and Arik, Meena’s parents.
Eugene screamed, “Get to the hostages at once!”
Meena rushed through the door with her companions close on her heels.
Bekka also ran into the room and cowered in one corner.
The Lump pointed a thick finger at Ivan. “It’s about time we settle up for what you did to my mule!” He held his sword down by his hip, the blade glowed.
Meena rushed toward Eugene.
One of the men with fur on his shoulder intercepted her with a raised sword.
Meena blocked a sword slash with her staff. A chunk of wood flew through the air as steel met ash. She thrust her boot heel at the man’s knee.
The Gallisian hopped back to avoid the kick.
Meena spun and slammed her staff into the man’s temple. He fell limply to the ground.
Another fur-shouldered Gallisian thrust his sword at Meena.
She swept her staff down and parried the lunging attack.
Ivan ran around to the far side of the heavy table as the Lump barreled toward him.
Two fur-shouldered footmen stepped in front of the Lump, brandishing their swords.
With a single, smooth swing of his glowing blade, the Lump sliced through his enemies’ swords. The men held only hilts, as their blades crashed against the stone floor.
Eugene darted toward Meena’s parents and the six guards at the door rushed after him.
Flynn leaped forward, throwing himself between Eugene and the guards. He swung his cudgel into one guard’s face, then followed with a backhand swing at another.
“Subdue them if you can,” ordered Eugene. “These scoundrels deserve torture rather than a quick death!”
The fur-shoulder men near the Lump dropped their useless sword hilts. One threw himself around the big man’s shoulders and the other grabbed him about the waist.
The Lump dragged both men with him as he stalked toward Ivan. He swung an open meaty hand and slapped the whimpering man to the ground.
The Lump sneered down at Ivan, ignoring the two men pulling at him. “There’s no more chances for you, mule killer!”
Meena blocked another sword slash with her staff. This time, a length of wood the size of her hand fell away from its end.
The man swung his left fist at Meena in a wide arc.
Meena spun to avoid the blow, but this fist caught her in the side. She clenched her teeth and groaned in pain.
Flynn swung his cudgel back and forth in a flurry of angry blows. He struck the guards indiscriminately, succeeding for the moment at keeping them at bay.
One guard fell back and slid around to Flynn’s rear. He raised his halberd and slammed its butt into the back of the fair-haired man’s head.
Flynn cried out and fell forward. The butts of several more halberds crashed into his back.
Another fist slammed into Meena’s side. She swung her staff blindly to put distance between herself and her attacker.
The fur-shouldered man stepped back to avoid the staff.
Meena scampered away and collected herself for another attack.
The Lump slammed his boot into Ivan. In turn, he felt a fist slam against the side of his head. He kicked again, and received another punch. Dizziness crept over him and he finally felt the weight of the two men he carried. The big man stumbled back and clawed at the man on his shoulders.
Eugene shouted, “You may wish to stop this foolishness!” He stood next to Meena’s father and pressed a dagger against the man’s flank.
Meena stepped back and held up a hand. “We yield to you.”
The Lump fell to one knee and the two Gallisians released their grip on him.
The guards standing over Flynn ceased their relentless battering of the fallen man.
“I’m glad you’ve come to your senses,” said Eugene. “But I feel the need to show you this is not a ruse.”
Meena shouted, “No!”
Eugene shoved his blade between Arik’s ribs. Meena’s father folded to the ground in a twitching heap.
Sudden barking echoed through the chamber. The Lump turned to find its source.
At the small chambermaid’s entry stood the young boy, Melvin. In both his hands he clutched a bundle of leashes, each of which led to one of a half-dozen hounds.
Melvin said, “You told me you wanted the doggies.”
Meena clenched her teeth and her face grew red with rage. In a low, emotionless voice, she said, “Unleash those hounds.”
31: Seige
Just after the dawn of time, men and w
olves both wandered the forest in packs. Nearly the only way to tell the difference between the two groups of animals was that one ran about on two legs while the other did so on four. The two legged beasts found themselves at a distinct disadvantage in the ancient days of the long winter, as they had far less fur than their four legged competition for forest dominance. This, at least in part, led to man’s discovery of how to use fire as a tool.
Fire warmed those primitive men, and frightened the packs of wolves. As a result, the wolves kept a farther distance from men once fire became a mainstay of their way of life. But, packs of wolves are not so different from groups of men as one might be tempted to believe. Different wolves have different ways of thinking, and one of them was very curious about men.
This curious wolf snuck closer and closer to the night time fires men built, and found they gave her scraps of food as a reward. She became a member of the tribe of men, as did her pups and, in turn, her pups’ pups. After a thousand years, these pups came to bear little resemblance to their lupine ancestors. Some had long, floppy ears that dragged the ground when they ran, others had long, slender bodies suited to hunting rabbits and other burrowing creatures. With time, these animals were no longer called wolves, but hounds, and they were widely regarded as man’s best friend.
It is important to note, that regardless of how floppy the ears, or wrinkly the skin, at the center of every hound’s being is a fiber of wolf that still longs to hunt and howl at the moon. Meena reached out with her power and grabbed each of those fibers in the hounds Melvin brought, and pulled with all her metaphorical might.
The hounds bared their fangs and rushed forward with the ferocity of great wolves from the mountains of Gallis. Their mouths foamed with rage and they tore through the room unleashing growls the Lump did not think hounds capable of making.
Footmen swarmed around Eugene and dragged him to a side door.
Eugene shouted, “No! We can’t leave without the hostages!” His arms flailed against his protectors. “She will not rest until I’m dead!”
“I’m sorry, Lord Baron,” said one of the fur-shouldered men. “We have a battle to win.” With those words, they slipped through the exit and the door slammed closed.
