“Bashed it when the cages fell, but it ain’t broke,” Nhed said,
“Then go grab Pall and get out of here, dag-blast it! We’ll talk ‘bout how much you owe me later.”
Nhed nodded and went to help Pall open cages.
“Lenny!” Edge said, running to his side. “Sorry it took so long for me to get to you. We had problems on our side.”
“Yeah, how much time we got?”
“The men in the camp heard us and some of them are coming this way, but I sent Deathclaw and Gwyrtha out to slow them down.”
“But Gwyrtha’s hurt, son,” Lenui said.
“I healed her. She’s fine,” Edge said. “Come on, let’s get your men moving.”
“Right,” Lenui said and started shouting out orders.
They had the cages cleared out in short order. There had been forty eight prisoners all together. All the dwarves had survived, but two of the humans were dead in their cages.
“Bettie is on the way with the wagon,” Samson said. The centaur was a bit battered, but Coal must have been paying attention because his wounds were closing fast.
“I hope the durn thing holds together,” Lenui replied. “It’s well-made, but its made fer ridin’ on roads.”
They ran into the grass, those too wounded to run helped along by the others. Fist carried two men over his broad shoulders, while Samson had three awkwardly clinging to his back. Bettie rumbled up with the wagon a short time later and they loaded up all the wounded and any other escapees they could fit inside, Fist tossing them in as fast as he could. Edge and one of the strongest humans climbed up on the warhorses.
Lenui ran by the wagon and yelped as Bettie jerked him off his feet and dropped him down on the seat next to her.
“I’cn run, gall-durn it!”
“No way, you’re the one driving now, Lenui!” she said and tossed him the reigns. She pulled her bow off her shoulder and pulled an arrow. “It’s my turn to fight!”
Lenui looked back. Several of Vriil’s men ran around the empty cages towards them. “Hyah!” he cried and the horses churned forward through the grass, the wagon jolting about awkwardly. “Where we goin?”
“Once we hit the road, go left!” she replied over the uncomfortable shouts of the wounded in the back. She fired and one of the Vriil’s men fell, clutching his leg. “We’re heading to the Sampo refugee camp. We’ll drop these folks off in a hurry and come back for the rest!”
Justan stood up in the stirrups and pulled back an arrow. He felt Ma’am’s eagerness mixed with the familiar hum of the golden string and smiled, glad that he had taken the opportunity to switch out strings. Stanza, well trained, stood perfectly still as he released.
The arrow jerked the lead rider from his saddle, tearing him away so suddenly that he left a boot behind in the stirrup. Justan saw Gwyrtha run up behind one of the other horses and latch onto its rear end with her claws, pulling it to the ground.
Onto the next one, Gwyrtha, Justan sent as he fired again, this arrow taking the head off of a helmeted rider.
Yes! she replied, running for another target.
He hated that she had to hurt the horses, but the enemy pursuit was scattered and undisciplined. If they could strike enough fear into the enemy, they might decide the chase wasn’t worth it.
Another mounted rider went down with an arrow from Bettie’s bow just before the wagon reached the road. That made three riders the half-orc had taken down from the bench of the jostling wagon, a feat that Justan found quite impressive. Somehow he had to talk her into joining the academy when this was all over.
Until the wagon could drop off the others and return for the rest of them, the remaining prisoners were on foot and vulnerable. It was up to Justan and his bonded to protect them while they ran. While Justan and Gwyrtha took out the mounted men, Fist and Deathclaw stayed afoot.
The raptoid weaved through the grasses, sowing chaos where he went. Vriil’s men went down in a seemingly random pattern, some screaming in pain from a sliced hamstring, others falling in silence with a sliced neck.
Fist trotted alongside the escapees in case some of the pursuers caught up to them. One man stepped in a hole and wrenched his ankle. The ogre placed his shield on his back and tossed the man over his shoulder, never letting go of his mace.
Lenny’s nephew Nhed led the prisoners on foot. His arm was in a sling, but he had insisted on staying with the others. Justan figured he still felt guilty about getting his men captured in the first place.
A roar erupted among the enemy on foot as one of them turned into a raving beast as large as a horse. It ran on all fours, its skin a mottled blue and brown, its head a spiky maw with three bulbous eyes. Justan planted an arrow in the center eye, blowing the top of its head off and sending it tumbling through the grass, bowling over two of its own men before collapsing in a smoldering heap.
Justan forced away a shudder, wondering how many of his men the wizard had transformed. If he had done this among this small army, what kind of creatures were among the thousands besieging the academy? They would have to be prepared when they arrived, and Justan already had a plan forming in his mind on how to do it.
The pursuers were either stubborn or crazy. Justan and Gwyrtha had to take down twenty riders and Deathclaw had to disable over thirty men on foot before the enemy gave up. The men finally turned and ran back to their encampment, glancing back over their shoulders in fear, most of them not even bothering to help their wounded comrades.
They retreat, Deathclaw said in satisfaction. He was eager to get the stink of their human blood off him.
Yes, Justan agreed. Still, would you mind watching to make sure they don’t try to follow us again?
The raptoid hissed. Yes.
You too, Gwyrtha?
I would go with you, she grumbled.
And you will soon, sweetheart. But for now I need you to help Deathclaw make sure we are safe. Will you do it? Justan asked, feeling just a bit guilty knowing the compulsion she felt to please him.
Okay, she responded gloomily.
I don’t need her, Deathclaw said in irritation.
You have her nonetheless, Justan replied and he left their communications tied open. Deathclaw would come to respect her sooner or later. Maybe this would be the time.
Justan turned Stanza towards the road and soon caught up with Fist and the escapees. They had slowed to a trot once Fist had told them they were no longer being chased. All but one of them were dwarves, and though they were breathing heavily and stank to high heaven, they were in good spirits. The way they shoved each other and laughed, they looked like they could keep running for miles.
The one remaining human stumbled and wheezed, looking as if he might fall down any minute. Justan drew up next to him. “Hey, can you ride?”
“I can,” The man looked up at him and though his body was in ragged condition, his eyes were strong and steady. “But since these good dwarves are walking, I don’t see why I can’t as well.”
“Go on, Aldie,” Nhed said with a laugh. “We don’t expect you to keep up with us.”
Justan smiled and climbed down from the warhorse. “I’ll take your place and walk alongside them, then.”
“Who are you?” the man asked.
“I’m Edge,” Justan said and stuck out his hand.
Aldie reached out to shake it and his eyes widened when his fingers felt the thicker skin on the back of Justan’s right hand. He turned it over and saw the naming rune and a smile lit up his face. “Nice to meet you, Sir Edge. I’m Aldie and I believe I know a man you saved at Castle Vriil. He’ll be excited to see you!”
The man climbed into Stanza’s saddle and asked Fist to set the wounded man he was carrying up there with him. Then he galloped down the road towards the camp.
“That man is very brave,” Fist said. “He helped me load the wounded into the wagon and refused to ride when he saw the dwarves walking.”
“Yeah, Aldie’s a good one,” Nhed said. “He on
ly got locked up ‘cause he protested when Vriil’s men started dragging us away.”
“Do you know how yer wizard and the boys did with the Sampo folk?” asked Pall. The old dwarf’s face looked like one solid bruise.
“No, but the fact that Bettie told us to head to their camp is a good sign,” Justan replied.
Bettie brought the wagon back for them a few minutes later, turning it around and shouting at them to get inside. The wagon wasn’t meant to hold ten people, much less twenty, but somehow they all wedged in and kept each other from falling out while it bumped down the road.
Justan and Fist crowded up on the driver’s bench next to Bettie and Justan took the chance to ask her how Coal was doing with the Sampo people.
“They’re still talking,” she said. “They’ve been pretty determined to stay put, but one of the men you rescued seems to be convincing them otherwise. Evidently things are much worse than we realized.”
“In what way?”
“Coal didn’t say, but you should find out here pretty soon,” she said.
The Sampo encampment soon appeared in front of them and by Justan’s count, two thousand seemed like a cautious estimate. Campfires dotted the landscape, surrounding a slow moving river inlet.
They came to a stop and the dwarves ran for the water, eager to wash. Justan didn’t blame them. A good bathing sounded nice to him as well, and he hadn’t been sitting in filth for a week. But it would have to wait until later.
“Can I?” Fist asked, eyeing the water wistfully. Justan was surprised. The ogre didn’t usually look forward to bathing. Then he realized that Fist had been carrying the filthy and wounded men around.
“Please do,” he said. Fist smiled and ran after the dwarves.
Bettie pointed him towards the center of the camp where a large group was gathered around a wide tent. The crowd moved aside as he approached. Justan could hear them whisper to each other as they stared at the odd swords on his back and the rune on his hand. Evidently word had already gotten around about the named warrior that helped free the prisoners.
He ducked his head into the tent and saw Master Coal, Lenny, and Rahbbie sitting on benches across from two grizzled warriors. The man that had rode Stanza back earlier stood behind them.
“Ah, Sir Edge,” Coal said, standing and extending his arm towards the men in front of them. “Might I introduce Aldie, son of Lance.”
“We’ve met,” Aldie said with a smile. Somehow he had found the chance to bathe before they arrived.
“This is Lieutenant Jack, formerly of the Dremald guard,” Coal said.
There was something slightly familiar about the old man. “Lieutenant Jack . . . I believe you were with us during the escape from Vriil’s dungeon?”
“Yes,” the man said, smiling and shaking his hand. “I am so glad to see you again, Sir Edge. Evidently freeing prisoners has gotten in your blood?”
“I hope not to run into the situation often, Lieutenant,” Justan replied.
“And this,” Master Coal said, gesturing to the remaining man on the bench. “Is Sir Lance. He is the one in charge of this camp.”
Justan’s eyes moved to the warrior’s hands and saw the naming rune. “So good to meet you, Sir Lance.” He held out his hand, but the man did not shake it.
“You done, Coal?” Sir Lance said. “I told you, I ain’t the leader here because I want to be. I’m just the one they elected to come talk to you. Sit down, Edge.” He gestured to an empty space on the bench next to Lenny.
“I apologize for my father’s directness,” said Aldie. “He’s been through a lot and has little patience for forma-.”
“That’s enough, Aldie! If he gets his feelings hurt this easy, he’s got lots to learn about being named,” Lance said. He directed his glare to Justan. “Let me see your hands.”
Justan was surprised by the man’s rudeness, but stuck out his hands anyway and turned them over, showing the warrior the runes on the palm of his left hand and the back of his right. Looking at the man’s hard gaze, he started to sweat and wondered if he would ever stop feeling unworthy of his name.
“Hmph! Don’t know why the bowl done it, but them runes are genuine.” His eyes moved up to meet Justan’s. “Alright, Edge. Coal’s been talking all afternoon. Tell me why you think we should uproot all these families and rush to the academy’s aid.”
Justan blinked. He had several reasons, but the man’s attitude had put him on edge and he hadn’t expected to be put on the spot like this. He struggled to force his thoughts to his lips. “I-uh, Sir Lance, the Battle Academy needs all the help it can get right now. Dremald has been taken over and-.”
“I know all that,” Lance said with a slight roll of his eyes. “But this ain’t an army. We have probably a thousand good sword arms, but the rest are just families. We ain’t going to leave ‘em here by themselves while we go off to fight.”
“Okay. That is completely understandable,” Justan said. It felt like he had lost the argument before even knowing it started. “Now I just walked in and I am unaware of what’s been discussed, so you have me at a disadvantage. Perhaps if you fill in the details, I can better give my opinion?”
The named warrior sighed, but Coal took the opportunity to lay it out for him. “We are not the only ones here trying to raise help for the academy. Lieutenant Jack is here representing Captain Demetrius.”
“Really?” Justan said with a smile. “I was worried for him when I heard that Ewzad Vriil took over.”
Jack nodded. “The Captain wisely left before Vriil knew of his presence. He has been gathering a force of like minded individuals, mainly deserters from Dremald’s garrison that wish to help the academy. I was sent here ahead of time to see if I might recruit the people of Sampo only to find that Ewzad Vrill had beat us here. The mayor has agreed to his terms. These good people are the only dissenters.”
“Those were our plans as well,” Justan said. “Though we had hoped to get the Mage School’s support first.”
“I am afraid that will no longer be possible,” Coal said.
“I know,” Justan replied. “Deathclaw showed me the large army blockading the road to the Mage School.”
“At least eight thousand men so far,” Lieutenant Jack said. “And more arrive every day.”
“That’s another reason we can’t stay here,” Aldie said. “While they had me caged up, I heard the guards talking. They said that the Lord Protector sent a new leader to command the blockade. He knows we’re here and he doesn’t like it. The guards said he was planning on sending soldiers to force us back to Sampo.”
“Then we may have no choice but to go with ‘em,” said Sir Lance, stone-faced. “Doesn’t make sense to get ourselves killed fighting that kind of force.”
“But father,” Aldie said. “I have been around those men for over a week. They’re animals. Even though the people that remain in Sampo are cooperating, the men already rape and steal from them. If they drag us back, we will be little more than slaves.”
“Alive slaves,” Lance said, unmoved. “Slaves can become free again. You don’t come back from being dead.”
“Then come with us,” Justan said. “Help us free the academy and then we can return to free the rest of Sampo.”
“And just how’re we supposed to get there?” Lance asked.
“We take the protected road through the Tinny Woods,” Justan said.
“That way is closed,” Master Coal said with a sad shake of his head. “The wards are down and from their description, the woods are flooded with more moonrats than I ever thought possible. We would have to fight every step of the way and it would mean passing through the darkest part of the woods.”
“See?” said Lance. “Your way is even worse than Demetrius’. He would have us stay mobile, traveling the plains and hills until a way to help the school presented itself. Imagine that. A thousand women and children roaming about, out in the elements, hoping that Ewzad Vriil doesn’t find ‘em. I’m telling you.
There is no way for us to help the academy and no place fer us to go, but back to Sampo.”
“Out in the elements is better than holing up in our homes, leaving ourselves to the whims of those men,” Aldie said.
Justan thought furiously, but he couldn’t come up with an answer. The only other way he knew to get there would be to climb through the mountains and he didn’t see how they could get these people through safely.
“Yer wrong!” Lenny said. “There’s both a way fer you to help the academy and a place for yer people to stay. Come with us and we’ll take the back way to Wobble.”
“But Lenui,” said Rahbbie.
“Aw shut-up ‘bout that, con-found it. We ain’t got no choice. The secret ain’t been well kept anyway. Every drunk dwarf in the kingdom’s blabbed ‘bout it once or twice. Only reason no one else tries goin’ through there, is it’s a dag-gum pain to find.”
The War of Stardeon (The Bowl of Souls) Page 21
