Bruni moved to the side, and the whip cracked again, snapping in the air before her face. “That’s enough, girl. Say, you’re a big one, aintcha? Kinda pretty, too-not a scrawny bag o’ bones, like most o’ you human wenches. You must get sick o’ these puny slave fellas.”
He laughed, an obscene bark of sound, and Moreen felt fury overwhelm her. She started forward, and when the whip came up again she glared at the ogre in defiance. Pointing at the whimpering girl, she spoke.
“I’m going to see if the little one’s all right.”
“Tookie? She’s fine, but go ahead. Just move slow.”
The chiefwoman reached between the rocks and lifted the girl free. The youngster cried out as her arm twisted, and Moreen saw that the bone was broken.
“I’ve got something that’ll help that,” she said.
“D-don’t hurt me,” sniffled Tookie. She glanced up at the ogre, her eyes wide with fright. “He made me show him where you where.”
“We won’t hurt you,” replied the woman, leading her to the pack containing Dinekki’s ointment. “Here, sit down.”
Moreen glanced up again and saw that Harmlor was watching her with amusement. She saw something else too and had to exert all of her will not to react as Barq One-Tooth came into view, advancing stealthily behind the hulking overseer. The Highlander had his axe in his hands, the weapon raised high as he crept closer with measured, deliberate steps.
Some scuff of a footstep gave him away, and at the last minute, the ogre spun about and roared. That whip snaked out, but the Highlander was too fast, charging forward in a bull rush, swinging his axe in a blow that slashed across Harmlor’s face and chest. With an incongruously high-pitched scream the ogre toppled backward, falling down the embankment to crash awkwardly onto the rocks.
He thrashed there, trying to get up, as Kerrick reached between the rocks to snatch up his dropped sword. At the same time Barq leaped down, following his first blow with a sweeping downward slash. The elf stabbed at the same time, and the ogre kicked once and died.
“You killed him!” gasped Tookie. “You can’t do that!”
“We had to do that,” Moreen said, “but I told the truth when I said we wouldn’t hurt you.”
“Why-why not? What do you want?” asked the girl tremulously.
“Well, we want to get into Winterheim,” replied the chiefwoman. “I wonder if maybe you can help us?”
Karyl Drago plodded tirelessly through the long, winding cavern. It had been years since he had gone all the way to Winterheim, but he remembered the way. Fortunately, there were only a very few alternate passages, most of them short dead ends. He checked each of these, determining that the intruders were not hiding there before lumbering back into the main cavern.
He found the remains of one camp, bones of many blindfish on the cavern floor and the cold ashes of their cookfires. Sniffing the bones, he ascertained that the bits of meat remaining there had not yet spoiled. He was no more than a day or so behind them.
Thoughts of the golden axe infused him with a growing sense of urgency as he continued on. That fire-those beautiful flames! The image burned freshly in his mind. The human woman who had wielded the axe was an enigma. She had displayed a fury and determination worthy of an ogress, and Karyl Drago could not bring himself to hate her. Though she as well as her companions had attacked him and had forced him from his duty, she deserved special attention-after her cohorts were killed, of course.
The big ogre’s thoughts did not go much deeper than this, but they burned hot and bright. He would find that axe, and then … he didn’t know what he would do. Worship it, perhaps? That seemed right.
He didn’t have to decide now. Instead, he simply plodded onward, winding through the long cavern, knowing that before long he would reach the Moongarden. The city was not far beyond that fertile warren. Even now, contemplating those wonders and glories, he could only think of that wonderful axe.
“I never saw a person kill an ogre before,” Tookie said to Barq One-Tooth, who muttered an awkward and unintelligible reply. “I’ve seen ogres kill people before. I don’t like to see that, but it happens. Old Harmlor, he mighta killed me, I think, when he threw me down.”
The girl rubbed her arm, which Moreen had liberally smeared with Dinekki’s healing ointment. “It doesn’t even hurt any more! Was that stuff magic? I never had any magic touch me before! I only see magic when the queen does it, and then it’s pretty scary.”
“Yes, this is good magic,” the chiefwoman said gently. “It was made for us by a nice lady, a grandmother of our tribe.” She tousled the child’s black hair, noting the dark skin and deep brown eyes. “Your tribe too, I think. You’re an Arktos girl, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know,” Tookie replied. “I’m a slave girl, I guess.”
“Are your mother and father slaves, too?” Kerrick asked.
She shook her head. “They’re dead is what they are. My mom died when I was born, and my father …” Her eyes teared, and she sniffled, then tossed her head and glared at the elf as if challenging him. “He was killed by an ogre.”
“I’m sorry,” Kerrick said, placing a hand on her shoulder.
“How come your ear is so big, the one, I mean? The other looks like it got cut off or something.”
The elf flushed. Moreen knew that he had been scarred by his own king on the night of his exile from Silvanesti, stricken with a sword that sliced away half of his distinctive elven ear. The chiefwoman didn’t even notice the mark any more, but now and then she noticed Kerrick touching it, his face an unreadable mask.
“It was cut off,” he replied, still keeping his tone soft. “The other one is long because that’s the way an elf’s ear is supposed to look.”
“You’re an elf?” Tookie’s eyes widened. “I thought elves were scary!”
“I can be scary,” Kerrick insisted, scowling for a moment before breaking into a smile, “but I like you.”
“I guess I like you, too. That was pretty brave the way you stabbed that ogre.” She turned back to Barq, who was still scrubbing ogre blood off of his axe blade. “You too. If you hadn’t fought old Harmlor, all of you would have been in big trouble.”
The girl paused for a moment, looking at the companions one at a time, then turned to Moreen. “You know, I think you still might be in big trouble. They’re going to notice when Harmlor doesn’t come back to the garrison.”
“Yes, we were thinking that too. Do you know, is there some way we could get away from here so that when they come looking for Harmlor they don’t find us here?”
The girl nodded quickly. “I could take you to the slave barracks at the warrens.” She frowned. “Everyone would know you were strangers, though. Some of them might tell the ogres.”
“That wouldn’t do-and we don’t want to get you in trouble, either.”
The girl’s eyes fell to the ground. “Actually, I’m already in trouble. Harmlor, he was looking for me. You see, I’m not supposed to come in here on my own, but I just like the Moongarden so much. It’s my favorite place in the world. The masters want me to run errands all the time, back and forth, to the Posting House, mainly. That’s so boring. I wanted to come in here and wander around in the fungus forest.”
The elf knelt before Tookie and looked the girl in the eyes. “What about this Posting House? Is that in Winterheim?”
“Yep. Up in the middle. It’s where they bring all the slaves when they first come here or when they get old enough to be sent off to a job. Tildy Trew is the boss up there, and she’s nice.”
“Do you suppose you could take us there? Without us having to talk to ogres on the way?” asked Kerrick.
“Well, I could try. There’s a path from the Moongardens that goes into the city, and it comes in right by the Posting House. I go there a lot, taking messages. If you were with me, I could say you were slaves, but you’d have to hide your swords and stuff.”
“We could do that,” Moreen said. “There are more o
f us over there near the cave leading in.” The chiefwoman had another thought. “We’re looking for a new slave, a man who was brought to Winterheim a few weeks ago. His name is Strongwind Whalebone. Have you seen him, or anyone that might be him?”
The girl’s face wrinkled in concentration as she gave the matter some thought. “I don’t think so. I didn’t see any new slaves come in this summer, but I don’t see lots of things, since I live in the Warren Barracks.”
“Is the Posting House where they bring new slaves?” pressed the chiefwoman.
“Yes. Tildy Trew might know about this Strongwing Whale. Shall we go to see her?”
“As soon as we can pack up our equipment, yes,” Moreen said. “Tell me, could we hide our weapons somewhere too?”
“Sure. Come with me to the other end of the warren-there are food baskets that we use for harvesting. You can put your stuff in them and hide it pretty good.” She pointed at the Axe of Gonnas, the blade wrapped in burlap as it jutted from Bruni’s pack. “I don’t know about that big hatchet, though.”
“Well, please take us there,” Moreen said. “Bruni, will you go back and tell the others. They can hide in the grotto while we try to work out a plan. Tookie, are you ready to go now?”
The girl nodded with great dignity, then watched seriously as they packed up their gear, hoisted their packs, and made ready to go. “Aren’t you going to hide Harmlor?” she asked.
“Good idea,” Barq said. Tookie watched impassively as Bruni and Barq pulled the big corpse down the rest of the rocky embankment. They rolled several large rocks over the ogre’s body.
“This way,” the girl said. “You follow along behind me a little bit, okay? I can let you know if someone’s coming and you have to hide.”
“She’s just a little girl. Do you think we can trust her?” whispered Kerrick to Moreen as they started out.
“Yes, I do,” the chiefwoman said. She was impressed, even awed, by the child’s casual courage as the waif led them out of the Moongarden.
17
The slave girl
"Wow, I didn’t know there were so many of you!” Tookie exclaimed, as Bruni returned with Mouse, Dinekki, and the rest of the war party filing along behind. If the girl was frightened by the appearance of more than two hundred fur-clad, armed warriors, she gave no indication, but she shook her head at the prospects of maintaining secrecy. Her brown face creased into a scowl.
“I don’t think we can sneak you all into the city, not right now anyways. I mean, I can go in with a few of you dressed like slaves, and I can show you where it is and everything, but we have to go right past the ogre barracks. They’ll notice if there’s so many of you.”
“Is there a place in the Moongarden where the war party can hide while a few of us go into the city for a look around?” Moreen asked.
Tookie scratched her head and frowned as she looked around, scrutinizing several of the side caverns that broke off of the main chamber of the great underground warren. Abruptly, she brightened, pointing to one alcove about halfway through the huge cavern. “You could hide up there in the Port Grotto. That’s where they grow these big mushrooms that take a long time. Nobody will go in there until the winter when they’re ready to harvest. There’s lots of space, soft moss in the meadows where you can rest, and even blindfish in the stream.”
The suggested alcove was about thirty feet above the main floor of the cavern. A thin waterfall trailed over the lip, dropping through a white plume to splash into one of the many little brooks gurgling across the floor of the Moongarden. There was a clearly defined path, almost as a steep as a stairway, leading up to the alcove and disappearing between the trunks of several massive, wide-capped fungi.
“Is there another way in or out of there?’ Kerrick asked.
Tookie shook her head. “Nope, just that path going up, the one you can see from here.”
“Well, they’ll be able to keep an eye on the rest of the cavern,” the elf noted. “It would be easy to defend, if the war party gets attacked there.”
Moreen turned to Mouse and Barq One-Tooth. “Will you two take the rest up there and get everyone settled and concealed? Keep some guards posted, but try to let everyone get some rest and food. We’ll scout the approach to the city and try to get back here as soon as we can.”
The big thane shook his head stubbornly. “I’m going with you,” Barq declared. “Thane Larsgall can take command of the Highlanders, but I want to find out what they have done with my king.”
Moreen was about to object then nodded. Larsgall was a young, strapping warrior from the eastern shore of the White Bear Sea, and she knew him to be a level-headed commander, well respected by the men.
“Very well. Bruni, Kerrick, you, and I will go along with Tookie. The rest of you wait and watch. I hope it won’t be for very long.”
The plan was acceptable to all except Slyce, who wanted to tag along into the ogre city. The chiefwoman informed him sternly that he was staying behind, and though he sulked, he eventually accompanied Mouse, Dinekki, and the others as they made their way toward the hiding place. Moreen watched as the fighters crossed the central stream on a ford of dry rocks then vanished into the fungus forest.
Tookie led the four companions deeper into the Moongarden. They followed a narrow trail through a thicket of tall mushrooms, a route the girl had told them was less heavily used than the main path in and out of the barracks. Concealment was easy as they stuck mostly to the shadowy reaches below the wide caps of tree-sized mushrooms.
For two hours they walked in silence, marveling at the vast stands of fungus around them, the smooth meadows lined with verdant moss. All of it was illuminated by the soft green light that seemed remarkably consistent. As they neared the far end of the cavern, they saw more alcoves branching off of the main cavern. Most of these were dark, though one gleamed with the harsh light of torches and lanterns. Several balconies overlooked that wide passageway, and Moreen saw an ogre lolling casually there.
“This is the work barracks up ahead,” Tookie explained in a hushed voice. “It’s where the slaves live who work in here.”
“Are there guards nearby?” Kerrick asked.
From here they could see a wide-mouthed side cavern, deep and shadowy. It was fenced off by a stockade of timber, but the gate was open, and there didn’t seem to be any ogres in this immediate area.
“Well, they have their own barracks over there,” the girl replied, pointing to a ledge higher up on the cavern wall, “but they’re always coming and going. You see, past there is the ramp up to the city.”
Kerrick and the others could observe that wide, smooth route, as broad as a grand street, curving along the cavern wall. The ramp inclined upward at a gentle grade before turning away from the Moongarden to vanish into a wide tunnel. The orange glow of oil lamplight glowed from within that passage, a harsh contrast to the soft green illumination of the great, verdant cavern.
Tookie led them closer, halting within the cover of the last of the giant mushrooms. “Why don’t you wait here and try to stay out of sight, most of you,” she said. “I’ll sneak in and get some slaves robes so you don’t look so out of place. We can get baskets for your stuff.”
“Can you carry all that?” wondered the elf.
“I might need a little help,” she admitted, turning to look up at Barq One-Tooth, who was gaping around. “Can you come along and help me?”
The big Highlander looked nonplussed at the question, but something in the girl’s expression seemed to move him. He cleared his throat gruffly then nodded.
“Sure, girlie,” he replied. “Just tell me what to do.”
Stariz inspected the ragged lot of prisoners with contempt. There were two dozen of them, all male, universally sullen and surly. The guards had chained them in pairs, and despite their bluster and bravado she could see their eyes were wide with fear. She could smell the stench of terror in their sweat. They were doomed, and they knew it. She was pleased, anticipating great su
ffering before these men finally met the release of death.
One man caught her eye, and she pointed to him. The guards unclasped him from his fellow prisoners and pushed him forward. The slave was tall and blond-bearded. The queen recognized him by his icy blue eyes and sandy hair. It was as her spy had told her, barely two hours before. This prize would be among the group of captives, if she acted quickly in sending the grenadiers. Still, she could not quite believe her good fortune.
“You are the Highlander, Strongwind Whalebone, who was captured on Dracoheim, are you not? You have a knack for causing trouble.”
The man shrugged his shoulders, a contemptuous gesture that provoked one of the guards to shove him hard from behind. Stumbling to his knees, the slave glared up at the queen with an expression of pure hatred.
She snorted in amusement and spoke loudly so that all the slaves as well as the company of grenadiers could hear. “There is no need for you to respond. I recognize you, Highlander King. At the time of your entry into Winterheim I pronounced you a dangerous soul, and now the proof is in your company. Still you were sent into service as a house slave-to the apartments of Lady Dimmarkull, as I understand.”
Looking around the great throne hall, the ogre queen saw that her words had been heard by all in attendance. That was good, another piece in her clever plan falling into place. She sneered down at the prisoner, flicking him away with an outward gesture of her fingers.
“Take him out of my sight. Take all of them away! Lock them in the royal dungeons on the harbor level, and do not bother to feed them. It is only necessary that they live a little longer, until the ceremony of Autumnblight three days hence.”
The grenadiers trooped the hapless rebels away, while Stariz glared coldly after them. As soon as the door to the throne room slammed shut, she hurried toward her own, private exit.
She expected that it would not be long before she heard from her husband, and she expected the king to be in a very bad mood. She had an explanation ready, and she felt confident that she would be able to get him to believe her.
Winterheim it-3 Page 19
