by James Fuller
“It is okay,” a soft voice called out to her. “You can stop now.”
Nicolette slowly opened her eyes but her grip upon the leather cord did not relent. She could see Barnaby and Keisha standing in front of her.
“He is very much dead….” Barnaby assured her, glancing at the purple-faced slaver.
Chapter 17
The evening had faded into night and now the world was shrouded in a blanket of obsidian, making travel slow and hazardous, even for those who had been raised in such lands. The cold, unforgiving rain that wept from the heavens and chilled them to the bone only made matters worse.
“My armor is going to turn to rust if this cursed rain does not relent soon,” Rift grumbled, pulling on his grey woolen cloak that clung to his steel and leather breastplate and leggings.
“We should find shelter… this rain is not going to quit anytime soon. There is no sense in risking injury or detection… not when we are so close to our destination,” Pavilion called back as he led the way down the muddy road.
Ursa frowned, the movement making several droplets of water fall from his bushy eyebrows and into his beard. Every inch of him was soaked through and he could feel the chill in his bones, as he knew they all could. He had been pushing the pace hard and he knew they were all weary and miserable, yet the thought of what might be happening to Meath and the Queen forced him to keep moving.
“Look, wizard, I am all for making haste but good sense has to play a part too,” Rift said, stopping Ursa in his tracks. Ursa turned to face him. “We will do them no good if we are weak and defeated, before we even get there.”
Ursa knew all eyes were on him and he knew Rift spoke true. “You are right, let us find shelter and quickly.”
“Finally some sense,” Rift beamed, turning back to road. “There might be an overhang up ahead under that cliff face, maybe even a cave of some sorts.”
Talena could feel Ursa’s eyes upon her and knew he was searching for some sign that he was making the right decision. She wished she could tell him all she knew but she knew that would only make things worse.
“Talena,” Ursa said, his eyes still boring into her. “Please!” He begged.
Her heart broke at the tone in his voice. “It will be good to dry off for a while.”
It was all she would give him. His eyes flashed with anger and for a moment Talena feared he might strike her, but then they softened as her words became clear. He nodded grimly and continued on.
Pavilion stopped them urgently, his eyes locked within the tree’s.
“What is it, wizard?” Rift grunted, his hand upon his sword hilt.
“Someone is already using the cliff face for shelter,” he replied pointing into the tree’s where a faint glow of a fire could be seen.
“Might be that they are just travelers,” Rift said. “They might even be willing to share that overhang.”
“Might be that they are the enemy we seek as well,” Pavilion added and Rift frowned, pulling his sword.
A clap of lightning lit the night sky and the roar of thunder was quick to follow. The trio sat around a small fire protected by the wide, rocky overhang.
Barnaby had used this spot on his hunt to find Keisha. He had been thankful they reached it before the rains had come.
“We have to go back for them. We cannot just leave them there!” Nicolette cried but knew the words were foolish, even as they left her lips. None of them were warriors. She was a Princess and Barnaby and Keisha were thieves - what chance would they have against a camp full of cutthroats?
Barnaby sighed. He knew what she must be feeling. “We must stick to the plan and get you safely back in Draco Castle and send help to the others once we get there.”
“I cannot go back to Draco Castle!” Nicolette said in surprise. “The bastard who killed my father and started all this is there! It would be no safer than had I stayed within Lance’s camp.”
“You have been a prisoner a long time,” Barnaby replied. “The false Prince Berrit… he no longer hides among your people.”
“What do you mean?” Nicolette gasped. “Has he been caught and killed?” For a moment, there was hope in her voice.
“I heard word not long ago, when we passed through that he was discovered, but managed to escape before capture.” Barnaby shrugged as if it did not matter. “But you will be safe within your castle once again, that is what matters. And you will be able to command an army to storm through here and recue your friends.”
“If they are even still alive.” A moment after the words had left her mouth Keisha realized what she had said out loud. “I mean...”
“No, you are right,” Nicolette said softly.
“We must hold onto faith that they will survive until help arrives,” Barnaby told her, hoping his guilt of knowing Zehava would be sold now did not show in his words.
“Your Highness!” A rough voice bellowed and branches parted as Rift charged into the small opening of the overhang.
“Rift!” Nicolette cried out, throwing herself into her Champions arms.
“Highness, are you all right?” Rift asked, holding her tightly as if she was his own daughter.
“No, no I am not Rift!” She sobbed.
“What has happened?”
“The others… they need help.” She pulled herself back and looked up at him desperation rimming her eyes with large, glittering tears.
“Meath!” Ursa called out as he, Pavilion and Talena made it into the small shelter. “Where is he?”
The sound of his name pierced through her heart and her legs weakened, had it not been for Rift she would have collapsed. “I do not know... we never found him before we were captured.” Her voice was full of bitter defeat.
Ursa looked around hastily. “Where are the others?”
“They are still slaves,” Barnaby said.
“What?” Rift growled. “How could you leave them behind?”
“I could not free them, nor could I gather the coin to afford them all,” Barnaby defended himself. “I was lucky enough to get them and myself out alive.”
“He did all he could,” Nicolette confirmed, heartbroken.
“Where are they?” Ursa asked.
“About three miles north,” Barnaby said.
“What are we up against?” Pavilion stepped forward, his feature grim.
Barnaby was shaking his head. “It will do you little good - it would take more than you four to get them out of there alive.”
“That is not what I asked.”
“You are serious,” Barnaby gasped. “It would be suicide, for you and for them.”
“We will see about that,” Pavilion replied coolly.
“We should leave quickly!” Nicolette pulled herself away from Rift.
“You are going nowhere near that place again,” Rift stammered out.
“Do not tell me...” Nicolette started but Ursa was quick to interrupt her.
“You will not be going with us!” Ursa commanded, his voice absolute, and Nicolette shrunk back. “I have failed your father in more ways than one recently, but now that we have you safe, I plan to keep it that way. You will do as you are told!”
The rain had slowed to a light trickle and Ursa could smell the smoke from the night’s dwindling fires as they rode towards the slaver’s camp. It was nearing dawn, and camp would all be still for a short time yet. If Barnaby’s numbers were accurate, they wound need the element of surprise on their side.
Nicolette had insisted upon coming, but that had been an argument that had quickly been put down. Nicolette and Keisha now rode safely with Pavilion to the last town they had passed through and would await their return there. Rift had insisted on going with Nicolette but the only way she would surrender and go to safety was knowing Rift would bring her friends back alive. Rift had hesitantly left her in the care of Pavilion, who swore on his life he would not let them out of his sight.
“I have a really bad feeling about this,” Barnaby whispered as he
caught up to Ursa, his hand fumbling awkwardly with his dagger.
“You had a bad feeling before we even left,” Rift grunted, his sword already in hand.
“Yes, well, I was not expecting to have to come back here!” Barnaby snapped back. “I am no fighter; I am a pick pocket, a common thief if you will. In a fight, I will be next to useless.”
“You are far from common, Barnaby, and you know this,” Ursa stated. “But you are the only one who knows the camp’s layout and most importantly, where the others are located.”
Barnaby cursed. “Of course I am. I always am. How is it that I always find myself in these situations? Why can I not just live a normal thief’s life, steal a few coin purses, have a drink go home, sleep and do it all over again.”
“Sounds dull,” Rift muttered.
“Yes, yes it does. But dull has a better survival rate.”
“There is the camp just ahead,” Talena pointed and they all stopped.
“We all know our parts; let us try to get in and out undetected.” Ursa said, not taking his eyes off the distant camp.
“There is no talking you out of this, is there?” Barnaby asked in defeat.
“Not a chance,” Rift grinned.
“Of course not,” Barnaby cursed again.
Barnaby stumbled out from around the edge of the slave barn, knowing full well a man, maybe even two, stood guard. But if he played it right this would go smoothly and without waking the whole camp.
“Who goes there?” The slaver growled, his spear tip leveling in Barnaby’s direction.
“Lower your weapon it is just me, Gallimere,” Barnaby slurred, recognizing the man as one that had been with Lance often.
The spear tip lowered. “Gallimere?” The man asked clearly confused. “I thought you headed out this afternoon with your new slaves?”
“I did, I did,” Barnaby mumbled, acting overly drunk. “But I had so much fun while I was here, I figured I would come back with more coin.”
“I did not hear of your return,” the slaver replied, suspicion edging his words.
Barnaby waved his hand dismissively. “That does not surprise me; I am just a glass merchant of little importance.”
“What are you doing around the slave barn, again?” He questioned, the spear tip rising slowly again.
“I was merely taking a walk, trying to sober up before finding my bed,” Barnaby countered nervously.
“I am going to have to take you to Lance and see if your story checks out,” the guard said, his friendly behavior all but gone now.
“Hmm, I do not think that will be happening,” Barnaby grinned.
Before the guard could respond, a loud thump echoed out in the night air, his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed. Talena stood behind him, her staff gripped tightly in hand.
“Hopefully, it stays this easy,” Barnaby said, moving his way up the stairs.
The slave barn door pushed open and with Talena’s help, they dragged the unconscious guard in.
“Who is there?” Nina called out, jumping from her cot.
“It is me, Barnaby. I have returned for the rest of you,” he whispered back.
“Thank the Creator,” Nina gasped.
“I told you I would help,” He replied with more than a hint of humor.
Nina’s smiled. “We are not out yet.”
“Give it some time, woman,” Barnaby countered and Nina grinned.
Barnaby and Talena moved down the hallway. “Where is Shania?” He peered into the cell that had held her and then back to Nina. Nina’s eyes shifted to the floor. “What has happened to her?”
“She is not here.” Nina answered.
“What do you mean she is not here? Where is she?”
“Her boy toy saw you leaving with the other two and not her. When his time came to fight and they unchained him, he went mad, killing three of Lance’s men before they subdued him.” Nina explained.
“Oh, by the salty balls of the Keeper himself!” Barnaby muttered. “I told him to leave it to me.”
“Where is she?” Talena asked.
“To teach him a lesson Lance gave her over to one of the other slavers for the night.”
Barnaby’s heart sank as he picked the locks to the two cells. “Go around the side of the barn and straight into the jungle. Follow the broken braches to the edge of the pathway and wait there for us.” Barnaby made it to the end of the cells where a young frightened girl lay curled up in the corner of her cell. “Come on sweetheart, we need to get moving.” Barnaby whispered.
“She does not talk.” Nina told him. “Or really do anything for that matter, not since she was brought here months ago.”
“Well, we cannot just leave her behind,” Barnaby crouched down beside the poor redheaded girl and gently pushed aside several stray hairs. “I know you are scared, believe me, I am too. But I need you to trust me and take my hand so we can get out of here and away from these bad men.” He held out his hand. The girl eyed him nervously but as he spoke, her fears seemed to dwindle slightly. She placed her hand in his and stood on uneasy legs.
“We need to hurry!” Talena urged nervously, standing by the doorway.
“I need you to go with Nina for a while, okay?” Barnaby told the girl and she gripped his hand tighter. “It will be okay, I promise you, you will be free of this place.”
The door burst open and before Talena could bring her staff around, the butt end of a spear smashed into her gut, stealing her breath and knocking her back against the wall.
“I knew something was not right about you, Gallimere!” Tyler growled as he leveled his spear and charged.
Barnaby felt the little girl’s hand pull away from his, he was about to grab it again to pull her out of the way when she unleashed an ear-piercing scream. Before he could act, her body was encompassed in flames and he flinched back as the searing heat nipped at his exposed skin. Her hands went forward and flames spewed forth, engulfing Tyler in a ravenous firestorm.
Barnaby stared in horror as the slaver’s body was consumed by the girl’s fire for what seemed like forever. Finally, the flames receded into nothingness, leaving nothing more than a blackened mark where a man once stood and the girl collapsed to the floorboards.
“She is Gifted,” Talena wheezed out.
Barnaby quickly snapped out of it. “Nina please…take her with you.”
Nina was hesitant at first, but the sound of yelling outside stirred her to move. “We will wait for you only for so long, if you do not come, we will leave.” Barnaby nodded and Nina and the other woman slipped from the slave barn with the young girl in their arms.
“We need to find Shania before it is too late,” Barnaby swallowed back the rest of the sentence, knowing the worst might already have happened.
Rift’s hand clamped tightly over the unsuspecting slaver’s mouth, muting his cries of surprise. Before the man could act, Rift’s dagger slipped between ribs, piercing his heart and stilling him forever.
Dawn was coming quickly and he knew he needed to get to Zehava before the camp came alive. He relieved the dead man of his sword and key ring, before sprinting across the open ground to the building Barnaby had described to him. Rift pushed on the door but was not surprised to discover it was locked. The sound of movement around the corner of the building forced him to act and he threw his shoulder into the door, feeling the wood split.
“What is going on over there?” A voice barked out and the sound of footsteps quickened. “Who is there?”
Rift slammed his weight into the door once more and it tore from the hinges revealing the four haggard men within.
“Rift!” Zehava cried out desperately, seeing the familiar face. “Are you a sight for sore eyes!”
“No time for that now, lad. Keep your eyes on the door,” Rift grumbled, tossing Zehava the extra sword through the bars and began fumbling with the thick iron keys.
“What do you think you are doing in there? Who are you?” An angry voice c
alled out and the sound of steel clearing a scabbard echoed in the small room.
Rift jammed a key in and twisted but nothing happened. Zehava saw the trouble and threw himself at the bars, his sword barely intercepting the slaver’s attack that nearly skewered Rift’s exposed side. Zehava slashed his sword up and caught the slaver under the jaw, opening his throat.
“Gonna have to move faster than that!” Zehava urged, seeing two more men running for the doorway.
“I am trying!” Rift growled fumbling with the keys. “There are too many damnable keys!”
“Hurry up!” Zehava urged. “I cannot stop them from in here.”
Adel grabbed the fallen slaver’s sword. “I will help you my blood brother.”
“Give me a bloody moment!”
A soft click sounded and the lock finally released. Zehava pushed open the cell door and snatched the keys from Rift and tossed them to Adel. “Unlock yourself and the others, get weapons and get out of here!”
“You do not have to tell us twice, brother,” Adel replied as he fumbled with the keys.
“May our roads cross paths once more, in better times.”
Adel grinned, his white teeth shining brightly against his dark skin. “May your god grant you the strength to be free of this place.”
Zehava sprinted for the doorway, diving out to meet the oncoming men. The pummel of his sword smashed into one man’s face, staggering him back. Blood gushed from his flattened nose and crushed jaw. Zehava’s foot drove deep into his gut, doubling the slaver over. He brought his sword down taking the man’s head from his shoulders.
The camp was quickly coming alive as calls of alarm went up around them. A spear thrust slash across his back - he grabbed the wooden shaft and pulled with bitter loathing. The slaver’s eyes bulged as Zehava’s sword was entrenched into his bowels. He wrenched his blade free, his senses preternaturally alert now. Finally, a chance for freedom had come and he refused to waste it.
“We need to get moving before things get ugly,” Rift told him. “Where is Dahak?”
