“We have to get them out,” she insisted.
“Mags, we ain’t gettin nobody out but us and them two villains. That’s the end of it.”
Mags clearly wanted to argue, but she saw in Ilbei’s eyes that that was the end of it. He was a man long used to having final authority, unpopular authority, and he was perfectly comfortable having people mad at him. She acquiesced quietly on the point. “Well, I am going to let her go,” she said. “We can’t leave her here like this.”
Ilbei grimaced, but agreed. He’d known it too. He called out loudly into the other room. “On yer guard out there. We’re lettin this here harpy loose. Don’t fuss with her if’n she goes out quiet like.”
When they’d all answered back affirmatively, he stepped to the left side of the iron grating and regarded the harpy with a sigh. “Listen here, you,” he began, but Mags’ expression made him stop.
“Her name is Miasma,” Mags told him again.
“I heard what ya said.” He tried to read the harpy’s expression, but she was staring up at the ceiling. He could tell by the rapidity of her breathing she was anxious. He hoped it wasn’t in preparation of ripping his face apart again. “Let’s go on and cut her free.”
They worked together to undo the bindings, starting at her ankles, then her wings, then her wrists. Her whole body tensed as her limbs were freed, her powerful legs bending, her talons gripping the grill.
“All right, ya harp—Miasma, I’m gonna take this last collar off of ya, and I expect ya to play nice just like Mags says ya will. I’d sure hate to regret this here action all the rest of my days.”
The familiar low, rasping growl issued from her throat. He shook his head, sending a resigned look Mags’ way. “See?” But he unlatched the neck clamp anyway.
The harpy leapt away, then spun back and crouched low, just as she had when Ilbei first fought with her. He knew right then that she was going to jump on him again. But she did not. She glared at him, her rattling hiss low and menacing, before she whirled and pinned her wings back. In one great leap, she sprang through the door and down into the hole.
Ilbei, not in position to see that she’d gone down the hole, rushed out after her, intending to help his men fend her off. But she was gone. He went to the edge of the opening and looked down, seeing her in silhouette as she hurtled toward the light of the cavern far below. “Hope she’s got enough room to pull out of that dive,” he said, as Mags joined him. Together, they watched as Miasma neared the bottom of the long shaft, her wings opening like the spring-loaded blades of an assassin’s folding knife. She spiraled the last fifty spans or so, then shot out the bottom, though they could hardly see her for how small she’d become. The long, screeching cry of her triumphant return was the evidence she’d survived.
Ilbei turned back to his men, and his captives. “All right, folks, let’s get these two sorry bastards to Hast and the justice of the War Queen.”
Chapter 33
W
ith torches made from broken table legs and aided by Jasper’s oil spell, they headed back out into the tunnels beyond the gold-filled room. Ilbei led the procession with Mags behind, followed by Meggins, who pulled the two prisoners along. In breaking apart the table, Ilbei had also pulled up one of its long planks and fashioned a crude yoke for the captives. He’d carved shallow arcs into each end of the plank and widened the nail holes with his pick, wide enough to accommodate loops of rope, which were put around his prisoners’ necks. Cavendis was lashed into the lead end of the yoke and Gangue to the back. Jasper followed behind them, having been instructed to keep an eye on Gangue for “anything magical,” and Kaige was tasked with rear guard.
They moved quickly, but carefully, up the passage and soon found themselves at the intersection where so many of the extra baskets were stacked. Ilbei peeked around the corners, dreading to see scores of men sneaking toward them with weapons drawn. The crossing was clear.
“Quick, let’s go,” he said. He ran across, with Mags right on his heels. Meggins hauled on the lead rope that was bound to Cavendis’ wrists. The noble prisoner tried to resist, but Kaige saw it and put one big hand in Gangue’s back and the other against the back of the magician’s head. Then he gave a mighty shove. Gangue gagged as he stumbled forward, his throat driven against the board, which then clunked into the back of Cavendis’ neck, causing a whiplash effect that got the young lord moving again.
Meggins tugged him along, and soon they found themselves nearing the top of the steep passageway where the rush of the river grew loud. Ilbei motioned for them to stop, still several paces from the top. He handed Meggins the torch, then finished the distance. He stooped low and looked out, again dreading to discover the approach of many men. This time, there were torches and lanterns moving his way, coming from both sides. Whoever carried them was in a hurry, if the wild movements of the lights in the blackness were any indication. They weren’t sneaking, that was sure. The nearer they got, the clearer came the sound of their voices, even over the river’s noise.
Ilbei ran down again. “Back, back, back,” he said, as loud as he dared. “They’re comin fast.”
The passage was too narrow to turn the prisoners around, so they had to run backward down the steep passage as Meggins pushed and Kaige pulled. Cavendis was fit and agile enough to manage it, if more by reflex than choice, but Gangue tripped and fell, dragging Cavendis down with him.
Kaige and Meggins tried to get them up, but Cavendis lay there laughing through his gag, his legs limp like a child throwing a tantrum and refusing to get up.
“Kaige” was all Ilbei had to say as he stepped around Meggins and just past Cavendis lying there. Kaige saw Ilbei’s intent and nodded back. The two of them took up the weight of the prisoners between them, Ilbei gripping the plank just behind Cavendis, and Kaige grabbing Gangue by the hair. Together, they dragged the prisoners easily enough as they resumed their hasty descent. Downhill made the going easy enough, even so encumbered, and Jasper had sense enough to get out ahead and stop at the intersection to look and see if the way was clear. He came back with frightened eyes and carping mouth. “Someone’s coming,” he said. “Voices. I heard voices.”
“Which way?”
“Both.”
Ilbei looked behind and saw light moving down from where they’d just come. Again. It seemed they were never destined to get out that way.
“Gaze of the gorgon, we’ve got to move,” Ilbei said. “Back in where we were. Go, go. Get in and lock that damned door.”
“Then what?” Jasper had the nerve to ask.
“Go, boy. Go!”
Kaige gave him a shove as hard as the one he’d given Gangue, not out of malice but out of urgency. It had the same effect, however, and Jasper went sprawling forward and slid down into the intersection. Nobody was laughing at him this time.
He was up quickly and down the passage past the baskets. He held the door open as the rest of them rushed back into the room, careful not to dash right into the hole in their haste. Jasper slammed it shut and dropped the lock. He turned back, panting, looking to Ilbei. “Now what?”
Kaige pointed to the tables. “We can block the door with them. Weight them down with gold and crates of coins.”
“Good thinking, big man!” Meggins said. Ilbei agreed.
“Get it done quick,” Ilbei said. “Jasper, keep an eye on these two criminals.” He ignored Jasper’s “what am I supposed to do with them?” expression and moved with Kaige to the table nearest the door. Heaving together, they tried to move it. Nothing. Mags ran over to add her weight and strength to the effort as well. It was still too much.
“Scrape off the gold,” she said, pushing off chunks as fast as she could. Soon after, they were pushing hunks of gold onto the floor, the dense masses thudding dully to the stone in a rich and heavy rain.
“Try again,” Ilbei said when the table was half-cleared. This time they were able to move it, if barely, and got it pressed up against the door, lengthwise. They began loading it up with gold again, the sound of their breathing heavy as they worked.
Soon the table was piled high with gold again, a great mound stacked up and sloped against the door as high as they could get it. Ilbei and Kaige then pushed over the table with the scales to get at the crates below. They threw off the top two crates on one stack. Both broke open and more golden coins spilled out, rolling everywhere. The bottom crate, still intact, they dragged away from the wall. They grunted and groaned, heaving at it as they pulled it toward the door. When it was far enough from the wall, Meggins got in behind and gave a shove. Finally they had it pushed against the bottom of the door. They ran for another one, once again pushing the top two crates over and letting them smash. Black coins spilled out everywhere this time, slugs made of lead. It was as obvious to Ilbei’s trained eye as it was to his sense of smell. Once again they dragged the bottommost crate, unbroken, against the door.
They could hear voices coming down the corridor.
“We’ve got to get out of here, Sarge,” Meggins said. “Fortifying is only going to work so long. They’ll just break it down.”
“Where, then?” Ilbei asked, but even as he said it, he looked at the hole in the middle of the room down which the harpy, Miasma, had gone. They all did.
Jasper saw them and stepped away. “No,” he said, but Ilbei was already heading for one of the big baskets dangling near the edge of the hole.
“Get that other one hooked up,” Ilbei called as he worked. Mags ran for a basket and dragged it to the hole near the second whim, setting it beneath the hook as Kaige lifted it out of the way for her.
“Kaige, you’re gonna take Meggins, Jasper and Cavendis down,” Ilbei said. “I’ll get the rest. Meggins, give Jasper yer knife. And Jasper, I swear to ya, if’n Cavendis makes even one odd squeak, ya stick him in the guts. And I mean it, now. Ya stick him, and stick him good. This ain’t no time fer the mouse in ya, hear?”
Jasper turned very pale as Meggins handed over his knife, a big, cheerful grin on his face. “It’s easy,” Meggins said. “The belly is all soft anyway, especially if you get them here on the side. Slides right in.” He poked a knuckle into Jasper’s side playfully, but the scrawny enchanter was not amused.
Kaige tried to set the hook into the ring woven into the basket handle, but the hook had an odd, spring-loaded contraption on it. It snapped against his thumb as he fumbled with it, which caused him to lose his grip. The hook fell away and swung out over the hole.
“That’s right, Kaige. Make sure that’s on good and tight,” Meggins said, teasing the big man. “It’s a long fall. I’ll have time to cuss you five times over by the time we hit if that thing slips off on the way down.”
Kaige thought that was very funny, and the two of them made falling jokes the whole time Kaige worked to set the hook, which, of course, horrified Jasper all the more.
“Kick the lock on that windlass, Mags,” Ilbei ordered, not sharing in the humor. He was focused like a spike on getting his people out of there. “Meggins, help her haul that rope off of there and throw the slack down. We can’t wind ourselves down with them levers, as them ain’t made to be cranked from down the hole.”
Meggins frowned, as did Mags and Kaige, but Ilbei demonstrated his intent on his side of the hole, unlocking the gears and yanking out span after span of rope, throwing it down the hole. Soon after, they followed suit.
“Here’s how we’re goin to do this,” Ilbei said, once he’d thrown out enough rope to get them to the bottom. “We’ll go together, baskets side by side, hand over hand. We go slow and easy, but quick enough as we have to. Won’t be fun, but me and Kaige can do it if’n we keep our wits, and the rest of ya keep these two from spoilin it somehow.” He glared at Jasper to make that point, then took hold of the plank that ran between the prisoners and moved them violently into position. “Let’s go, you two.”
Cavendis tried to resist, but Ilbei simply lifted him up by his neck with the yoke and set him in the basket. The young nobleman gasped at the pain the lift caused in his shoulder and went limp for a time. Kaige moved around Ilbei and lifted Gangue, more gently but just as easily, and placed him in the basket that would be Ilbei’s. The plank that yoked them together bridged the gap in a sobering sort of way.
Someone tried to open the door. First a knock, then the rattle of someone trying to come in, then a loud bang.
All eyes flashed to the door, then back to Ilbei. Ilbei was calm. “Get in, Kaige. Jasper, get in there with him, careful not to hurt nobody with that knife. Kaige, haul yerself up off the ground. Then Meggins will swing the boom around. Mags, you’ll swing our boom around same time he does. Then both of ya get in yer baskets. Meggins, help Kaige with the rope if’n he needs, since you boys have an extra man. Mags, take my knife here and be ready to stick that old acquaintance of yers through the guts if’n he moves so much as a twitch.”
“Gladly,” she said.
“I got to tell you, Sarge,” Meggins said. “I’m not too keen on hauling any more rope.”
Noting the bandages on his hands, Ilbei fully understood. “Well, if’n ya think you’re not up to it, we can have Jasper pullin with Kaige, leavin ya fer keepin that knife in Cavendis’ ribs.”
Meggins grimaced. “Right. I’ll get the rope.”
The door thundered as something hit it, dust falling from the doorframe and even the ceiling right around.