At the top of the ramp, Sable, surveying the situation, rendered her discouraging assessment.
“There are a thousand times a thousand tracks here,” she said as she looked over the trail leading east and west at the top of the ramp. “I doubt I could track a caravan of Nephilim through all this mess. On a lighter side, though, we know the squeakers and gobblers headed west. Most of the tracks to the east are from horses leading to the ramp, not away from it.”
“Is that significant?” Duncan asked, having no experience in tracking and looking to the veteran scout for guidance.
“From my guess,” answered Sable, “the trail west must narrow or become otherwise unmanageable for the horses. East leads to wherever they kept the horses, but there must be some sanctuary to the west the fleeing squeakers were making for.”
“Well, then I guess we split up,” answered Captain Donovan. “I will take four of my bezrek with me, and we will follow the eastern trail. We shouldn’t need a professional tracker to follow the signs of so many horses. In these rugged mountains, truly subtle places for the horses to leave the trail should be rare.”
“Aye, captain,” Sable acknowledged. “And the rest of us?”
“You take my brother and the other five bezrek. Follow the fleeing squeakers. Once you are away from the muster point, I suspect the trail will become easier to pick out.”
“I’ll do my best, captain.”
“You are an excellent tracker, Sable, and have served my company well. I trust you to look after my brother for me and to lead them well. My men should be able to handle most anything you run across. I believe if I saw right, no more than half a dozen squeakers and gobblers got away. One bezrek is more than a match for that.”
Sable did not regard Donovan’s words as idle boasting. She had served with the Third Berserker Company for nearly two years now, and seen these stout and grim warriors at their best and at their worst. They could laugh, drink, and make merry with the best of men, but when it came time to do their duty, their deadly determination and battle prowess was fearsome to behold.
She had once seen a berserker lose his arm to a vicious cut from a Nephilim blade and battle on single-handedly to fell the giant before passing out from loss of blood. Even with the severity of his injuries, that berserker, named Kellik, and who now was nicknamed One Blade, survived. He currently taught at the Berserker Corps Academy, training the young cadets how to fight with a single weapon should they ever be deprived of their customary dual axe-and-dagger weapon set.
“You know, brother,” began Duncan, a little put-off by Donovan’s insistence on him needing a caretaker. “While I have not taken the path of running around and stomping on things until they stop moving as my career choice, I am still capable of looking after myself. I think your plan is wise, however, as Sable and I with a few of your stout-hearted warriors can likely handle whatever lies to the west. You just make sure you don’t run across another herd of bandits and get your stumpy-selves trampled by their horses before they figure out you are something other than rocks in the road!”
Donovan smiled. Duncan had always needed some degree of looking after, but his spirit was as stout as any bezrek.
“Well met, brother. You work on keeping your head attached, and I shall mind mine. If we have not found each other by alternate roads by tomorrow evening, meet back here at the ramp and will decide what direction is most worthy of pursuing. The others should be long gone by then, but we shall see what we shall see, and if we have sufficiently tied up the loose ends, we will return to Stonehold.”
Without another word, Donovan called out four of his berserkers, and headed down the eastward trail. Sable and Duncan led the remaining Durgak warriors to the west in pursuit of the escaped goblinoids. Just as Donovan suspected, not far down the trail the tracks became much less muddled.
“A large company of goblinoids came this way recently,” Sable announced, spying the clearer trail beyond the bedlam at the top of the ramp. “Several sets of tracks, splayed and dug-in from hurried flight, lead back toward the west.”
“Excellent,” Duncan commented. “Lead the way, Sable. They have a more than ample head start on us as it is.”
Sable led the Durgak very quickly in pursuit of the tracks leading away from the ambush site. The shorter-legged Durgak were hard-pressed to keep up with the nimble Fenratu scout, but the fire of the hunt was in her blood. The longer it took to catch up with their quarry, the greater the chance that they would reach reinforcements or that they would get a word of warning out to whoever was behind the ambushes of their defeat in Dragon Pass.
The western trail continued to narrow and wind as it ran slightly higher up the slope of the mountain. It was soon clear why the horses could never have come from this direction. The Ogres would barely have been able to traverse this narrow way much less a horse and rider. Ahead the trail turned sharply around an outcropping. Sable slowed her pursuit and allowed the Durgak to catch up.
“If they were watching the trail behind, we could easily have been spotted from quite a distance. If they decided to lie in wait for us, this would be a good spot. Be on your guard. I am going topside for a better look.”
Duncan and the bezrek nodded, and Sable bounded silently up the nearly vertical mountainside for several hundred feet before turning westward. From that angle, she could get a good view of whatever was around the bend without anyone on the trail having much chance of spotting her.
Soon, from her vantage point above the next bend, she motioned for the Durgak to move forward before heading down the slope beyond the bend and out of sight. As soon as the Durgak rounded the bend, Duncan found their lupine scout waiting for them.
“I ran ahead a bit while waiting for you guys to catch up,” Sable said, slightly winded. “You see ahead where the trail bends again toward the west?”
“Yes, I see,” Duncan answered.
“Those bushes seem to be blocking the trail, but the tracks lead behind them and do not continue along the trail. There is a hidden cave entrance just there.”
“Well, if that is where our prey has gone to ground, we have little choice but to follow. To be pursued by Durgak and run underground is a foolishness these goblinoids will not live to regret.”
“That’s all well and good for you all,” Sable said, swallowing hard and twitching her whiskers slightly, “but my tracking skills depend on seeing what I am following. I don’t have Durgak eyes, Priest Duncan, so underground, we either need light and a lot of it, or I can only use their scent to tell you the general direction.”
Duncan sensed that there was something deeply troubling their Fenratu scout. Through all the battles and aftermath, he had never sensed this from her before. He drew her aside and whispered to her.
“Is everything all right, lass?”
“Yes,” she said, her voice not at all matching her words. “It’s just that Captain Donovan said this was an outdoor foray. If he planned on tracking underground, he should have brought a Durgak tracker.”
The Fenratu looked deeply embarrassed at the limitations of her skills in continuing the pursuit underground. Duncan was certain there was more to it than performance anxiety.
“Fear not, Sable,” Duncan reassured her, not digging any further in search of the larger issue. “We are more than able to see, and even Durgak use light underground. We are not like the Umbra or those accursed D’zarik or even our cousins the Ephah who live in Shadowdeep. We have glow-boxes, which should give enough light to work by underground, but if not, then your nose is better than the eyes of most underground, so we will trust the One Lord to provide.”
Duncan’s affirmations consoled Sable to some degree, but whatever was really at the heart of her reticence, she visibly steeled herself and prepared to lead the company into the caves.
As the Durgak slipped behind the bushes and into the cave entrance beyond, they unpacked and lit their glow-boxes from their packs. The berserkers had tiny round glow-box spheres on metal chain
s, which they hung around their necks, thus, keeping both their hands free for combat. Duncan, however, had a glow box the size of a large lantern, which he carried in his shield hand while strapping his buckler firmly to that same arm.
Durgak glow boxes were thick glass filled with a gooey putty that when lit, burned slowly but brightly. It was much more stable than oil as the putty stayed in place while only the outermost edge would burn. Unlike torches, the burning putty was nearly smokeless. They would burn longer than the best-made torch and could shine for days before the flames consumed all the putty. The putty was a unique Durgak mixture called puru and was a valuable export commodity for Stonehold.
The light from the glow boxes illuminated a small cave. Small, with no other entrances or exits, the cave was empty. Sable sniffed the air.
“The tracks led in here and did not lead out. This place still reeks of squeakers and gobblers. Where they went, I do not know, but they came this way. Of that I am certain.”
“Yes, my dear scout,” Duncan replied, having a solid notion as to the answer to the mystery of the disappearing goblinoids. “Your nose and eyes have led true. Now, though, Durgak eyes must show the way.”
Duncan began carefully examining the rear of the cave. He nodded knowingly.
“The back wall shows a tiny seam in the rock grain outlining a hidden door concealed in the rock.”
Duncan motioned and two other Durgak came and assisted him scouring the wall for whatever hidden mechanism would open the door. Moments later, one of the bezrek nodded to Duncan. He had found it. As the others readied their weapons, Duncan motioned for Sable to stand behind him as he activated the control.
With only the slightest sound of stone grating on stone, part of the rear wall outlined by the subtle seam recessed into the passage beyond. The lead Durgak bezrek pushed the panel, and it slid on a hidden track into the east wall of the tunnel. Beyond the door, a passage led straight ahead at least twenty feet, the edge of their light.
“The Orc-scent leads down this passage,” Sable informed them. “They went this way.”
While Fenriri and their Fenratu offspring had average vision at best, their hearing was unparalleled, and only Zafirr could equal their olfactory senses. Duncan, his glow box giving off the greatest light, ordered Sable and the others to follow him closely down the passage.
Thirty feet past the door, the passage opened into a much larger room, but the Durgak didn’t get that far before arrows rained down the passage from the room ahead. Duncan raised his buckler-strapped arm to deflect a few of the arrows and backed quickly down the passage behind them. As he crouched, with Sable still behind him, he began to speak.
“Well, fellows, it looks like we have—” He never finished his thought. The bezrek had already swarmed past him rushing toward the opening.
“That is one good thing about traveling with bezrek,” Duncan remarked to Sable. “It sure saves time discussing plans. With them the only plan is charge!”
As they listened, the sounds of metal weapons ripping flesh and armor resonated from the room ahead. Almost as soon as the noise of battle began, silence ensued. As the battle sounds died away, they heard one of the bezrek call back to them.
“All clear.”
Duncan and Sable strode forward to assess the aftermath of whatever had transpired ahead. As they entered the room, they saw a staircase to the right, leading up to a second level. Straight ahead through the south wall on the second level was a doorway. Around the south and east sides of the room, at the height of the second level, ran an elevated ledge. The hacked and unmoving body of two Hobgoblin archers and four Orc javelineers were strewn about the catwalk.
Two berserkers had taken up defensive positions on either side of the doorway. The other three had returned to the room’s lower level to await Duncan and Sable.
“Well, that was quick work,” remarked Duncan.
The Durgak to the left of the doorway raised a single index finger to his lips indicating the need for silence. Apparently, there was more trouble beyond this room.
“I can hear what they hear,” Sable whispered to Duncan, “but I think I know more than they know.”
“How’s that, lass?”
“I have traveled with Captain Donovan and his men for a long time. Durgak bezrek are the best fighters I have ever served with, but they make more noise than a stampede of armored Centaurs. If whatever is past that doorway isn’t Durgak warriors, then it is whatever killed them and is now clanking around in their armor.”
Duncan and Sable moved quickly to the top of the stairs and along the ledge to the doorway. Sure enough, whatever was coming down the hallway ahead was not particularly concerned with moving silently. Duncan signaled that they move out and down the hall. It only went south another twenty feet before splitting in a T intersection. To their left was the sound of a heavily armored force heading toward them. To their right there was no discernible noise. Since stealth was already out of the picture, Duncan cupped his hands to his mouth and called down the left-hand passageway.
“Hello, and who goes there?”
The sound of tramping feet stopped. Moments later came the answering call in an all too familiar voice.
“Duncan, me, boyo. Don’t you recognize your own brother?”
Smiles covered the faces of the bezrek as the two forces came together in the west passageway.
“I thought we left you following horses,” inquired Duncan. “What are you doing in our caverns?”
“Well, brother, we followed the horse tracks for a few miles around the mountain. Just before a waterfall, they led behind some foliage into a large cavern. There was a portcullis at the mouth, but it was wide open. Apparently, either they didn’t close the door behind them or someone left in a hurry. We found some strange, large cages and some bunks in the same cavern. There was also obvious evidence,” Donovon said, pinching his nose, “that horses had been kept there. Otherwise, it was empty. There was a passage leading off to the north out of the cavern, and we were a few hundred feet down that passage when we heard you call out.”
Donovan’s explanation intrigued the scout.
“Will you send one of your men with me to show me the passage? I want to take a look around before we head the other way.”
Captain Donovan agreed and sent one of his bezrek with Sable back to the cavern. Upon her return, she relayed her findings.
“The cages looked made more for people than animals. The bunks at the back were for a dozen men, which would account for the mounted bandits. There were also clear tracks leading out of the cave, across the waterfall ledge, and away toward the west. Looks like a single mounted rider got away.”
“There’s naught for it now but to move on,” Duncan said. “Shall we, brother?”
“We shall!”
At Sable’s urging, they proceeded with a bit less noise and a bit more caution. They discovered a series of barracks that once housed Orcs, Hobgoblins, and Ogres as determined by decreasing levels of disgustingness to the filth. In addition, the size of the beds for the Ogres was a dead giveaway. Other than the few they dispatched in the first choke-point room, however, there was no evidence of any further living inhabitants.
They continued down the corridor past the barracks rooms and into a much-larger room. It seemed to be a meeting room of some sort as a huge stone table and a multitude of chairs were the main features in the room. Ahead on the south wall to the west was a closed portcullis cutting off the passageway beyond. The Durgak spread out, scoured the room, and soon found another hidden doorway off the east wall. After a few moments of searching, they found the control mechanism and released the door. It swung smoothly inward.
Beyond the door, the passage ceased being rough-hewn rock walls typical of goblinoids diggers, instead taking on a much smoother quality. While not quite the level of Durgak work, it was clear that Adami or some other trained miners had dug this chamber. The short hallway opened into a library. Bookshelves lined every wall and a w
orking table covered with papers occupied the center of the room.
The books included manifests, logs, reference manuals on military strategy, history books of the northwest nations, and detailed inventory lists from caravans. There were also many kashaph research books, most of which were indecipherable by Sable or the Durgak.
“These books are an abomination and should be torched,” noted Duncan.
The kashaph powers were recognized as gifts from the Ayabim, and most Durgak viewed them with prejudice at best and revulsion at worst.
“Well, unless I miss my guess,” added Sable, “we found one lair of the Blue Mystic everyone has been buzzing about. Seems there might have been a more direct involvement in the caravan ambushes than we thought. Also, these manifests and inventories are all in different handwriting. It is likely they were part of whatever was captured from the caravaneers. Before we get to setting fires underground though, we might want to find out what is behind that portcullis in the main room.”
They carefully examined the portcullis mechanism, but it was lowered and locked from the other side. There did not seem to be a way to open it from the main room.
“Where is that boy Thatcher when you need him,” remarked Duncan. “Confound it when you actually have good and honest use for a thief, you can’t seem to find one.”
“No need for a thief ,” Donovan replied. “You have a squad of bezrek at your disposal. If you will allow me.” The captain approached the portcullis and barked in an authoritative and menacing tone. “Whoever is behind this portcullis be warned. We are a deadly company of Durgak berserkers. Whoever opens the portcullis to us will live, but if it isn’t open in one minute, my bezrek and I will tear it from the very walls of this cave. If we are forced to do that, whoever we find beyond it will die on berserker blades.”
Fool's Errand Page 25
