by Ryan Drake
I didn’t have time for this. Yet I could hardly afford to ignore it. Without my armor, Thork was a real threat. He had to be dealt with. The only problem was that he was standing some ten feet away.
“You sure you don’t want to come a little closer?” I said. “You know, to better aim between the bars?”
Ok, I’ll admit that it wasn’t the most sophisticated gambit I could have attempted, but it did have one very positive thing going for it: it worked.
“G-g-good idea,” he said.
Then Thork Yurger, assassin for Pingo T’Ong, took a couple of steps forward and stopped just out of reach.
Or so he must have thought.
“There now. Doesn’t that feel better?” I asked.
Thork Yurger’s trouble (aside from being something of a halfwit) was that he had slightly misjudged the distance. I knew it instantly. But I did nothing to suggest it to Thork. I just tucked Max’s sword into my sleeve and moved as casually as I could to the part of the cage closest to him. Once he finished loading the crossbow, he raised it to his shoulder and took careful aim.
I lunged through the bars as hard and quickly as I could, bruising my shoulder anew and wrenching the side of my neck.
I managed to curl my fingers around the end of the crossbow.
Any competent assassin would have either instinctively yanked the weapon aside or pulled the trigger. But not Thork Yurger. His reaction was to yelp, take half a hop backwards … and loosen his grasp on the crossbow in surprise.
I couldn’t believe my luck. I took a firmer hold of the weapon and tried to wrench it away. But Thork Yurger had regained his grip. My efforts unbalanced him and toppled him towards the cage. I heard the crossbow fire and saw a bolt heading harmlessly into the air. I reached between the bars with my other hand, grabbed the front of Thork Yurger’s cloak and pulled him towards me as hard as I could.
Clang!
This time, it was the sound of his head hitting the bars. He uttered a high pitched moan, so I did it again. Clang! He fell limp. Holding him up with one hand, I took his crossbow, felt around to see if he had any other weapons, and came away with a single knife. Then I let him fall.
The whole incident had taken a mere handful of seconds.
I gave the crossbow to Gabby and looked around. The battle continued. It had reached a messy stage, with the guardsmen’s formation mostly broken into pockets of fighting all around. Good for the orcs, I thought, but not so much for the guards. Especially when nearly a third of them were now lying on the ground, silent or screaming or writhing in pain or still.
Not much time left, I thought, and went back to work on the lock.
“Please hurry,” said Gabby.
“Sure,” I replied. “No problem. I’ve just been messing about until now.”
Even so, I tried. I could feel what I needed to do. All that remained was to do it and hope Max’s sword didn’t break in the process.
“Fall back!” shouted the Captain.
I heard him clearly even over the screams, grunts, howls and curses of battle. So did everyone else. In seconds the battle shifted as guardsmen disengaged. I thought briefly that they might leave us to happily continue with what we were doing, but no such luck. “Fall back” apparently meant nothing more than, “Run in behind the cage, get surrounded by the orcs and try to fight for your lives!” I have to say I wouldn’t have been overjoyed by the results if I were a guardsman.
I wasn’t a guardsman but I still didn’t like it. Gabby and I went from being left pretty much to ourselves (aside from Thork Yurger) to being surrounded by sweaty, testosterone fuelled orcs hell bent on carving the remaining guardsmen to pieces. Some were close enough that I could have reached out and touched them, if the very notion of doing so didn’t make my skin crawl. Could life get any better than this?
The horses didn’t like it either. The pack horses tossed their heads left and right but couldn’t go anywhere. Gabby’s and the Captain’s horses were made of sterner stuff, but Gabby’s let out an occasional whinny and rolled its eyes nervously.
Gabby must have felt equally thrilled. As I worked on the lock, she was loading the crossbow with the bolt that Thork Yurger had fired at me.
I felt the tumbler move, but a particularly ugly orc chose just that moment to crash into the cage, jolting me and letting the tumbler slip back into place.
“Do you mind?!” I shouted at him, but I could see that he didn’t; his helmet had been split and blood dribbled down his cheek.
I tried again, dimly aware that the guardsmen had lost. Some still continued to fight, but there weren’t many left. Others had taken the more prudent tactic of running away.
“Gordan,” said Gabby, but I didn’t have time to respond.
Nearly there, I thought. The tumbler was moving again.
“Gordan, Maximus is back.”
I shook my head, not wanting to acknowledge my surprise. Max was back? Where had he gone? Why had he returned at all? A little more….
“He brought what I asked for. If you can’t get that lock—”
If I couldn’t get the lock? Of course I could. I was nearly done. One more little push….
Click.
Aha! I felt a brief moment of elation, but when I tested the lock I found it just as locked as before. Huh?
I took out Max’s sword. The click, I discovered, hadn’t been the sound of success at all. It had been the sound of Max’s sword snapping clean in two. It was now useless for anything. Not that it was ever much good before, but still.
“Verna’s left butt-cheek,” I said, and sat back on my heels. I was done. I had no more ideas. There was no choice, I thought, other than to sit in this cage like some sort of animal and wait to see what fate brought me. Us. Because Gabby was caught in the cage as well.
The guardsmen were done, too. I couldn’t see any still fighting and the orcs had started beating their chests, waving their weapons in the air and howling their success.
“Gordan! Take this!” It was Gabby. She was holding the crossbow in one hand and trying to watch all sides at once as if a single bolt could hold them at bay. In her other hand she held a small pouch. It was this that she wanted me to take.
Not knowing what else to do, I took it. It must have been whatever she’d sent Max to get, although he would have struggled to lift it. The pouch was nearly as big as he was.
“Now open it and pour its contents into the lock.”
Some of the orcs had stopped their celebrating and started looking our way, but I shrugged and did as she asked. A fine, dark gray powder filled the hole where I’d snapped off the tip of Max’s sword.
“This ’im?” asked a slow, gravelly voice. It was a large, ugly-looking orc with a fresh cut on his shoulder, and he was staring right at me.
“Think so,” said another, just as slowly. This one was carrying a massive, double-bladed sword dripping with gore.
“Looks like ’im,” chimed in a third.
“Wait, what?” I demanded. “Are you looking for me!?”
“Gordan, there are other things that you could be doing right now,” said Gabby.
“Gor-dan. Yeah, that’s ’im,” said the first orc.
Thanks, Gabby, I thought. “How in all the land is it that you’re looking for me?”
One of them chuckled, a low, humorless sound that I wish never to hear again as long as I live. “Pingo T’Ong said find Gordan. We find Gordan. Ha, ha.”
Unbelievable. Was the entire world out to get me, or what? And just who was this Pingo T’Ong anyway? Thork seemed quite comfortable at the feet of the orcs. Maybe I should wake him and ask.
“Gordan, could you please focus? Forget about them and light the powder.”
“With what?” I asked. Then, “Ok, so you found me. Now what?” But in the back of my brain I was thinking very fast. Light the powder? Up until then, I had no idea why I was doing what Gabby had said other than because I really didn�
�t have much else to do except wait until the orcs ripped the cage open and tore us apart. But now I’d finally pieced it together. I’d heard about this gray powder before.
I understood how she’d chased the goblins away.
“Now, you die. Ha, ha.” As if it would be anything else.
“You know—however you did it at the tavern.”
Still with one hand on the lock, I turned towards her. “Look,” I started, unaccountably angry. “How many times do I have to tell you, I didn’t!” Then I had an idea. “Give me the crossbow. Quickly!”
She did so without argument. Surprisingly.
“Back!” I said, waving the weapon at the orcs. “I mean it!”
Naturally, that just encouraged them to press closer. I didn’t much care because I wasn’t aiming at them. I had one shot and it had to be perfect. Fortunately, my target wasn’t very far away.
Holding the lock in one hand and aiming the crossbow as carefully as I could, I fired.
Clang!
Boom.
A great cloud of smoke appeared and I understood that you should never hold onto an object that you mean to blow up. It stung! Fortunately, most of the blast had gone straight up, leaving my hand throbbing but not mangled. The lock, though, had burst right apart.
The crossbow bolt had created just enough of a spark, and I’d managed to hold the lock at exactly the right angle. We were free!
I quickly unhooked the remnants of the lock and shoved the door with all my strength, catching a couple of very dazed orcs a solid whack! in the process.
“Come on!” I yelled to Gabby and pushed my way out.
Our luck held. In moments we’d mounted Gabby’s and the Captain’s horses. Max took his customary spot on my shoulder. We kicked the horses into a respectable gallop.
With smoke in our eyes, the smell of bloodshed and death in our noses and an army of orcs behind us starting to figure out that we’d gone, we were away.
15
Pixie Dust
“Sorry,” I said to Max. The word seemed to have become an integral part of my vocabulary, destined to be used at least once every hour. I was in danger, I thought, of wearing it out.
“Sorry don’t cut it!” he replied, buzzing in front of my face. “First it’s me hat and now me sword! What else do yeh want to lose or break for me? Me vest? Me trousers?”
I felt an almost irresistible urge to simply swat him out of the way. Nevertheless, by exercising a superhuman amount of restraint, I resisted.
Given the nature of that conversation, you might be thinking that we’d left the orcs far behind and were well in the clear. Sadly, that wasn’t the case. We were still galloping for our lives through open meadowland with what remained of the orc army on our tails. Sure, the horses were swift. We’d gained some distance. But orcs are persistent, and it looked like they were hunting for me in particular. What’s more, they had our scent. They weren’t likely to give up easily, and that meant we weren’t all that much better off now than we’d been in the cage. We were simply postponing the inevitable.
Perhaps Max’s way of dealing with situations like this was to pretend they didn’t exist and distract himself with the inconsequential. Perhaps he was still drunk enough to have his priorities confused. Or perhaps he really did think his sword was that important. Whatever his motivation happened to be, he was becoming quite annoying.
“Look, I’ll do what I can to replace your sword,” I said through teeth still gritted. “Just like I’ll replace Gabby’s crystal ball and tavern. But right now I’ve got other things to think about, so if you don’t mind, can we put this aside for the time being?”
He made a few grumbling noises but obediently settled himself back down on my shoulder.
I nudged the Captain’s horse nearer to Gabby. “We’re in trouble,” I said loudly enough to get past the noise of the horses. “Got any ideas?”
“You’re in trouble,” she yelled back. “They’re after you, not me. So here’s an idea: go away!”
Oh. She might have been right. Ordinarily, I would have stayed with her anyway, in the hope that it would have helped with my own escape. It would have given me the chance to offer her to the orcs in my place. But I’d already brought enough bad luck her way, and for some reason I didn’t quite understand (it was totally out of character) I didn’t want to bring any more. So, feeling a trifle rejected and wondering how I was going to get out of this mess, I did as she suggested and veered away from her.
“Huh?” said Max. “Waddaya doin’?” I didn’t answer. “’Ang on, if the orcs are after you, lemme stay with her!”
“Go to her if you wish,” I said. “I’m not stopping you.”
“How can I?” he demanded. “I can’t fly fast as a ’orse can gallop! If I leave now, I’ll be stuck ’ere with the orcs!”
“So? They’re not after you. Or do orcs eat pixies too?” I admit, that last might have been inspired by my feeling of rejection. But it shut him up, and that was a good thing.
My horse was starting to tire. It was breathing hard and sweat was building on its flanks. It couldn’t last much longer, so I scanned the distance for anything useful. Trees to hide amongst would have been a good start. Or a river not so deep that I couldn’t ford it, but deep enough to drown any armor-laden orcs that chose to follow. Perhaps an enormous, mechanical, repeating crossbow with a full clutch of bolts, aimed at the orcs and ready to fire. Anything, really, to supplement my arsenal of a tired horse, the knife I’d liberated from Thork Yurger, a drunk pixie, and more than an ordinary share of charm and wit. Oh, and my tail. Mustn’t forget my tail.
But there was nothing around other than flat, gentle meadows that in other circumstances would have been a complete joy to walk upon, and the Demesne floating nearby.
I risked a glance back to my muscular pursuers and noticed something that wasn’t altogether good news.
Grimly, I nudged my horse back towards Gabby.
“What are you doing?” she demanded when I reached her side.
“The orcs weren’t all chasing me!” I yelled back. “Some were chasing you!”
I saw her eyes grow wide. She nodded in understanding. “What should we do?” she yelled.
“That’s what I asked you!” I replied. Then I had a thought. “That exploding powder. Do you have more?”
She shook her head. “I used it all on the goblins!”
“Verna’s tooth,” I muttered to myself. Maybe I used the name of the goddess more often than I realized. Then, “Keep going!” I said. “Head for the Demesne!” Maybe the orcs would be less than willing to chase us underneath it. Yeah, even I knew it was a pretty feeble idea.
We kept going. Both horses were tiring quickly, and while the orcs came no closer, they showed no signs at all of giving up.
“Don’t these things ever get tired?”
I must have asked it loudly enough for Gabby to hear. She shook her head. “No, they don’t.”
We kept galloping.
We’d nearly reached the Demesne when it happened. My horse must have clipped a rock or struck a patch of uneven ground or something. Whatever it did, the result was that the poor creature gave a high-pitched, horsey scream and crashed to the ground. Even though Max was the only one with wings, both of us flew through the air. Max just continued to fly, but the ground came towards me with alarming speed. All I could do was tuck my head down, take the impact on my already bruised shoulders, and roll with it until I came to a stop.
I came up spitting grass and dirt from my mouth.
“Are you ok?” asked Gabby. She’d pulled up beside me.
“Sure,” I said, still trying to get rid of the dirt, but in reality my left shoulder really, really hurt. I flexed it and it moved ok, so I didn’t think anything was broken. Even so, I shot the horse an angry glare. But then saw it was limping about in obvious pain. Poor thing.
I hauled myself to my feet and looked at the orcs. They wer
e closer than I wanted them to be. Much closer. I couldn’t smell them yet, but I could certainly hear them yelling their battle-cries.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I said to Gabby as I drew Thork Yurger’s knife. It seemed a pathetic weapon against the orcs. But it was all I had. “I’ll hold them off as long as I can,” I said, marveling at how heroic the words sounded. “Hopefully it’ll give you enough time to escape.”
She dismounted instead. “My horse is exhausted,” she said. She still carried the crossbow, but as far as I knew didn’t have any bolts or anything thing else with which to protect herself.
I couldn’t help but be amazed.
Max, though, was less than impressed. He buzzed up in front of us looking angry. “What in the name of the Shadow’s left nut do yeh think yeh’re doin’?” he yelled. “Don’t yehs realize there’s orcs after yeh? If they kill yeh, how’m I gonna get back to Ulm?”
“No choice,” I said. “The horses have had it. The orcs are faster than us. We can either fight now or have them run us down in a couple of minutes.” I shrugged. “I can’t be bothered running.”
“Can’t be bothered? Can’t be bothered? I don’t believe this,” he said. “After all the crap yeh’ve put me through over the last coupla days, yeh choose to give up now?”
I didn’t really have an answer for Max, so I said nothing.
The ground was starting to shake and the orcs were now close enough to smell. I could see the anticipation on their faces and wished for something other than just a knife. Perhaps I could throw Max at one of them?
“If you’ve got any better ideas, Maximus, let’s hear them,” said Gabby in her beautiful voice.
Max spluttered for a moment. Then, “Maybe I do.”
That got my attention. “What?” Gabby and I asked together.
“If yeh’re sure there’s no other way?”
“Maximus, we really don’t have a lot of time here,” said Gabby.
Max just grunted. “’K,” he said.
He brought out a tiny pouch he’d had attached to his belt. Without a word, he quickly flew over both me and Gabby, sprinkling some of the pouch’s contents as he went.
