by Mike Morris
the threshold of her old home. The scared girl inside her told her it was madness to go on, that she should run away to anywhere that wasn't there. The faces of the dead filled her head. Joshua's sweet smile. The twinkle in Pet'r's eyes. Jack's seriousness. Lin fought the tears threatening to overwhelm her. But rather than dissuading her further, Lin drew strength from them.
She stepped through the door and headed down to her old quarters. A fist squeezed her heart as she went deeper into Grosnar. Echoes of her past followed her but she wasn't Lin the Sweat anymore. The uniform may’ve been borrowed and the sword stolen but, with each step, a warrior grew inside her.
She picked up the pace, eager to leave the stairwells and passageways. She moved faster and faster until she was running. Her feet pounded against the stone. Lin raced through the corridors until she reached the staircase that lead to her former home.
Slowing, she crept down the stairs, her back pressed to the wall.
Lin stopped at the bottom. She wiped the sweat from her brow as she steadied her breathing. A quick peek around the corner showed the way ahead was clear.
A heavy bar was slotted across the dormitory door but it moved with little effort. It was designed, after all, to keep the Sweats in, not stop anyone entering from outside. Once the beam cleared one set of restraints, Lin moved to the other side to pull it all the way through. However, the weight of the wood was too much for her. It fell from her hands. She jumped back to stop it from crushing her feet as it crashed to floor and the sound bounced off the walls around her. Her heart raced as she listened to see if anyone heard the commotion but all seemed quiet. Lucky, stupid girl.
With sword in hand, she pushed open the door.
A sea of familiar faces waited for her. Everyone was gathered in the mess, despite mealtime being long gone.
"Who's that?" called up a voice. "Step into the light where we can see ya."
"Old Jahn!" Lin stepped inside. The light from a nearby torch fell across her face and sparkled on the Nostros blade. A collective gasp came from below and the crowd shuffled backwards as they tried to move away from the stairs.
"Alright everyone. Calm down," said Old Jahn as he made his way to the front. He squinted up at Lin. "Who are you with that sword? How'd you know my name? We ain't nothing down 'ere. Just Sweats."
"It's me," replied Lin as she ran down the stairs towards her friends.
Jahn stepped forward, raising his hand to stop her. "Don't go any furthers. As I said, we ain't nothing here."
"Jahn! It's me — Lin!" She slipped the sword into her scabbard and pulled the fringe from her face.
Jahn shuffled forward another couple of steps, his face all screwed up. He peered at Lin and she saw him go from fear to confusion to recognition. He wrapped his arms around her. "Lin! By the Masters, we thought you long dead."
Lin enjoyed being in his arms, taking in the old smells of her surroundings. It felt good being back amongst her own people.
Jahn stepped back to take a long hard look at her. "Look at you. What you doing here girl? Dressed up like that and all that commotion going on outside. Why you back?"
The others swarmed forward as her name got passed around the room.
"I've come to rescue you," she told Jahn.
"Rescue us? We in danger?" He looked past her, to the top of the stairs as if Death himself was about to appear. "Is that what those explosions were?"
"They were caused by my friends. They destroyed the fleet in the harbor."
"They did what? The Masters' ships? And the Masters let them?" Jahn's eyes bulged in shock. Again he looked past her at the door. "Where they now?"
"They're not coming. The Masters... they... killed them all." Even the words hurt to speak out loud.
"Then what danger are we in, girl? I don't understand what you're sayin'."
"I've come to free you. If we release the other Sweats, the other humans, we can rise up against the Masters. Escape from here."
"Rise up? Escape? What she talking about, Jahn?" shouted a woman behind Jahn.
He shushed her with a wave of his hand. "You want us to fight?" he asked Lin.
"Yes. To be free. Be our own masters. Get away from all this."
Jahn laughed. "You gone crazy while you've been away. Why would we want to do that? Life's hard here, sure, but where isn't? We work, we get fed, we got beds. You guarantee us that out there?"
"But the Masters are evil. How many of us have they killed? How many have they eaten?" Lin scanned the sea of faces around her. Why they were looking at her as if she was the mad one?
"Look girl. No one's evil. They just got their ways and we 'ave to live or die by 'em. Risin' up ain't gonna do no one no good. Now, we can hide you back here. You'll be safe — we just gotta get rid of that bloody sword of yours and lose that outfit. Get you looking like a Sweat again. It'll be like you never left."
Lin grabbed Old Jahn by the arms. "There is a field full of bones outside the castle walls. All the dead get dumped there to rot away. There were thousands of skeletons. Thousands. Do you want to end up like that?"
"Who cares what happens to us once we're dead, girl. Now, let's get you hid." Jahn tried pulling Lin into the crowd of Sweats but she yanked herself free.
Taking a few steps back, she addressed the crowd. "We don't have to live like this. Why should we live and die at the Masters' whim?" She pointed at the door on the landing above. "It's open for the first time in your lives. All you have to do is follow me out of here. We can free all the other humans and together we can..."
Jahn's hand cracked across her cheek. "I didn't wanna do that, Lin but I can't 'ave you talkin' nonsense to everyone." He wagged his finger at her. "Now for the last time, are you gonna stop this business and join your family again?"
Lin spat blood and ran her tongue over her split lip. "Jahn, please. There isn't much time but we can..."
"What, in the Masters' name, is going on?" The voice stopped everyone. As one, their heads turned to the top of the stairs. Two Grunts stood in the doorway brandishing spears.
Jahn grabbed Lin from behind, pining her arms. "We've caught one of 'em, boss." The other Sweats stepped back, leaving a clear space around the two of them. Lin struggled to free herself but a lifetime working on the stone had left the old man with a vice-like grip.
"Don't anyone move!" shouted one of the Grunts. He pointed his spear at Lin and Old Jahn. The two guards made their way down the stairs slowly, never taking their eyes off the pair of them.
"Jahn, don't do this. Let. Me. Go," hissed Lin.
"She was trying to get us to fight the Masters, she was," called out Jahn, over her head. "We stopped her good."
"Alright, alright," said the first guard. "Let go of her arms and step back. We'll take her from here." The spear point stopped an inch from her breast. It wavered slightly in the guard's hand as she felt Jahn release her and move back a yard.
Lin glared at the two Grunts, filled with loathing for them as well the newfound disgust she felt for Jahn and the others.
"Put your hands on your head, you Dog," the Grunt snarled. As she raised them, he turned to his companion. "Tie her up quick. We'll take her to join the rest of the scum."
The moment the guard's eyes were off her, Lin moved. She swatted the spear point away with her left hand and drew the Nostros blade with the other. She lunged forward, stabbing the sword into the man's gut. The demon steel slid in through the man's armor. He died isntantly.
She yanked the sword free with a twist as the other Grunt jabbed his spear at her. She twisted as the point gashed her shoulder, almost tripping over the corpse at her feet. She swatted the point away with her sword. The spear skidded along the blade's edge as the guard came in closer. Lin punched him with her free hand. Her gloved knuckles cracked against the guard's teeth. The man staggered back, spitting blood and Lin didn’t hesitate. Gripping her sword with both hands, she hacked into the man's neck. Blood erupted like a fountain, spraying across her face and soaki
ng her uniform but Lin didn't care. The guard fell, crumpling at her feet.
"What the hell have you done?" Jahn screamed. Everyone stared at her in horror.
Lin raised the bloodied blade towards her mentor as she retreated to the stairs. "Just what I had to do, Jahn. I can't live like this. Not anymore. I thought you'd all feel the same. Guess I was wrong." Her foot hit the bottom stair and, without taking her eyes off her old crew, she climbed up the steps. "Being free even for just one day is better than living like this. I'm sorry you don't see that."
"Just get the fuck away from us, girl, and hope you haven't doomed us all by killing these two," replied Jahn. "You should've died when you were supposed to."
Lin paused on the landing and looked down at the faces that she'd been so happy to see only a short time before. "Don't worry, Jahn. One way or another, you won't be seeing me again."
She turned and ran down the corridor. Behind her, Jahn was already raising the alarm. More guards would be on their way, leaving no time to try any of the other dormitories. There was no point anyway. What would she say to them if she could not persuade her own crew to join her?
Tears ran down her face.
There was only one thing left she could do. She could try to free the captured priests.
The only one place they'd be taken was the hole. Her own people may not want to escape but she could, as sure as hell, help the ones she'd come with get out of Grosnar.
38
713 PN
The guard clawed at Jack's neck, dragging him into the depths of the cold ocean. They rolled and tumbled, a battle of who wanted to live the most. Shock waves from the explosions in the harbor battered them both as they fought.
Jack locked his legs around the guard's waist, squeezing with all his strength, slipped his hands up until he got them around the man's neck. The guard grabbed his wrists, tried to dislodge his grip. Jack squeezed harder, feeling the pressure against his legs, his own vision starting to blur. He had so little air inside him.
They sank further from the light of the fiery surface and blackness enveloped them.
Jack tightened his grip. He could feel the guard panic, watched bubbles escape from his mouth. Felt the hands on his go loose. Felt the guard go limp.
He kicked against the guard's chest, pushed himself up towards the surface. Air escaped his lips. The roar in his ears was loud and fierce. Precious bubbles of life sped ahead in the race to the surface as he slowed down.
His body burned the last of his air.
The surface was a speck of light as the grey closed in.
He knew he wasn’t going to make it. He kicked again, as the last of his air burst from his mouth. It was over.
Something grabbed his collar, pulling him up. His head burst out of the water
. He gulped air and then he went back under for a moment, enough to drink another mouthful of salt water but the grip on his collar was strong. He was yanked out once more.
“Jack!” Robert Hammer grinned at him from a canoe. "You alright, lad? Thought you were off with the fishes."
Jack grasped the side of the canoe as he filled his lungs with air. It tasted so sweet even with the fire and smoke. "You're alive," he gasped.
"Takes more than that bastard to put me in my grave. My bloody back is killing me though." He reached out a hand and hauled Jack aboard. "You can give it a rub later if you want but best we get moving before they look to see if anything other than debris is down here. You fit to row?"
Everything hurt, but Jack was alive. He clambered over the edge of the boat and slumped into its bottom. Water sloshed around him but he didn't care. He was just glad to be still breathing.
“We haven’t got time for you to have a bloody nap,” said Robert.
Jack squinted up at the big man. "What's the plan?"
"Same as before. Get ashore. Kill as many of those bastards as we can. See if any of the lads are alive and get them out. Then we scuttle the cannon so the other ship can come in and pick us up."
Jack looked at him, waiting for the smile that said he was joking. It didn’t come. It was quite possible the man was mad. “Just the two of us?”
Robert helped Jack upright and passed him a paddle. “Yep. Let’s get to it.”
“We’re dead.”
"Never said it would be easy, did I?"
“Right.” Jack stuck the oar in and they guided the boat through the burning galleons toward the mouth of the cavern.
"Never said it would be easy, did I?"
"I don't suppose you have any weapons? I've lost all mine."
"I've still got a knife in my boot but that's about it. We'll just have to find some when we get there."
"As long as we have a plan."
Robert looked over his shoulder and shot Jack a nasty grin. "Everyone's got a plan until they get hit. After that you’re on your own. We got hit bad but now it’s our turn."
They moved slowly through the water, sticking to whatever cover they could find. It took them ten minutes of careful maneuvering before they reached the main dock. They sheltered amongst the broken masts of a half sunk galleon.
The day burned brightly but there was little warmth as a strong wind swept in. It had a bitterness that nipped away at Jack, reminding him of how tired, bruised and battered he was.
From their position, Jack and Robert had a good view of most of the cavern. A small fire burned nearby a pile of corpses. Too many wore the uniform of the Black Dogs. The guards laughed and joked as they made the most of the fire’s warmth, rubbing their hands over the flames.
"Wouldn't mind a bit of that myself," muttered Robert. "Stop these damp clothes from chafing me something rotten."
Despite the situation, Jack couldn't stop himself from smiling. "Let’s ask them to clear off then."
"Couldn't have said it better myself," replied Robert, slipping his knife out of its sheath. The blade gleamed in a slither of light. "Try and keep one alive so he can show us where they’ve taken any of the lads who're still alive."
"Will do," replied Jack.
Robert grasped one of the masts and pulled himself out of the canoe. Jack followed him as they clambered across the deck and slipped into the water on the other side. A few strokes took them to the dock and they climbed out of the water into the shelter of morte debris.
The guards were more concerned with their own banter rather than any possible danger. Still the priests moved with care, sliding from shadow to shadow as they drew nearer.
Robert indicated to Jack to go to the rear while he approached from the front. With a nod, Jack darted away. He nipped from cover to cover, using the shadows. When he was in position, he signaled Robert.
With his knife hidden behind his back and his head bowed, Robert calmly stepped out from cover. "Hey boss! Where's everyone gone?" he called out.
"What the... Who are you?" A guard shouted back. "Don't move!" The guards rushed to confront Robert.
"I've been asleep," the priest said. "Just woke to find everything destroyed. Am I in trouble?"
"Trouble?" laughed the one to the far right. "You're dead." He lunged at Robert with a club. It was an obvious move and an easy one for Robert to block. He caught the moving arm with his free hand and stabbed the man through the eye with the knife in the other. As the guard fell, Robert took the club and moved on to the dead man's companions.
Jack came up from behind another guard and looped his arm around his neck. Bracing the neck, he pushed sharply with his other hand. With a sharp crack, he died. Jack picked up the guard's fallen spear and stepped into the affray.
Robert's knife sliced one man from groin to neck. Another took the full force of the club across his face. Blood and teeth erupted from the man's shattered jaw.
Jack swept a guard's legs with the spear, quickly reversing the weapon to stab the man as he hit the deck.
The last guard fell to both priests, their weapons cutting into him from behind and from the front.
A shout came from Jack
's left, as m
ore guards rushed toward them.
A pile of weapons was next to the row of corpses. Jack ran to it. He threw a sword toward Robert, who caught it midair and ripped it from its scabbard. Jack took two for himself. The beautiful single edged blades sparkled in the fires' glow. It felt good to be armed again.
The guards were no more than bullies in uniform, used to everyone cowering before them and their whips. They hadn’t the priests' devotion to arms nor a cause that drove them on. They ran to find eager swords, thirsty for revenge. It was short, bloody work.
Three fell in no more than a heartbeat.
One swung his own rotten blade at the Robert but the priest's sword was faster than the eye could see. A small, thin line appeared across the guard's throat. His hand went to it and came away red as blood began to leak from the wound. The man looked confused as his legs began to totter. A knee hit the deck. Robert stepped forward impatiently and kicked him onto his back to die.
Jack faced the last guard alone. The man threw his sword to the floor and lifted his hands in surrender. "Please. I don't want to die."
It took all Jack's self-control not to kill him. Instead he clubbed the man hard in the face with his sword pommel and the man fell face-down on the ground. Jack dropped to one knee in the center of the man's back, tying the man's hands together behind him using some rope from his belt kit.
Robert flipped their prisoner onto his back and slapped him awake. The man came to with a groan and then panic hit him. He thrashed about but Robert had him pined. He wasn’t going anywhere.
Robert stared into his eyes. "Listen to me carefully. Either answer my questions or die. The choice is yours. To be honest, I don’t care if you do or don’t speak to me. You want to stay silent, I’ll just kill you and look for some other mug who’s got more sense than you. Do you understand me?"
"Y...y...yes," replied the guard.
"Are any of my brothers still alive?"
