Authors: B.N. Crandell
Vik and Trent came charging down the stairs. They were both wearing basic leather armour and a sword belt with a short sword hanging by their side.
“We’re ready to go,” said Vik excitedly. Master Tayer shot Decker a questioning look.
“We’ve decided to take the boys. We can keep an eye on them that way and keep them from the mischief they’d otherwise find.” Decker turned to the boys and smiled. “You are to do exactly as instructed like any good soldier would, understood?”
“Understood,” they both said in unison.
“How long will Cressida be?” he asked the boys.
“She is mixing up herbs. She said she wouldn’t be long,” replied Trent.
They all spent the next fifteen minutes discussing plans and counterplans based upon what they may find. By the time Cressida came down they were all anxious to leave and so they all surrounded Master Tayer and placed a hand upon him and the next minute they found themselves on the fringes of Bilwark’s Grove.
“That was very draining,” said Master Tayer. “I fear I won’t be much further help except for getting you all home in a hurry.”
“That may yet be very critical to our survival so rest up.” Decker chuckled. “Whisper from now on and watch where you put your feet.”
Decker led the way into the grove, feeling better with each step for being back outside again and having something to do. Once he judged they were about half way to the destroyed fort he called a halt.
“Stay here,” he whispered to the group. “I’ll go on ahead and take a look” —he turned to Mistress Cali— “when you’re ready.”
“I still think I should come along. If the spell should wear off you’ll be seen in an instant. Not to mention if Pilk has any ideas I may be able to try them right away,” she whispered.
“No offence, but you are too heavy-footed. Even invisible the enemy will hear you a mile away.”
“I can levitate and you can pull me along. You’ve seen me do that before,” she pleaded.
“I’ll check out the best approach first and see what we’re up against. I won’t be long I assure you.” Decker looked between Cali and Cressida as he spoke and was comforted by a nod of approval from Cressida. She understood him more now. He wished he understood her more. They had been having more heart to heart talks of late but he still sensed she held a lot back from him.
“Okay. Remember this spell will hold for about fifteen minutes.” She cast her spell and pointed at him.
“I plan on being back here long before then.” The magic flowed within Decker and he knew by the looks of the others that he had vanished from sight. He somehow felt so much lighter when he became invisible but he figured that to be his imagination.
He set off at once and almost forgot about his injuries as years of training took over — treading softly from toe to heel instinctually finding the hard, clear ground each footfall.
Spotting the patrols with a practised eye, he crept around them and continued on his way until the crash of a felled tree stopped him dead. Noises of all description assaulted his ears but above them all he heard the unmistakeable sound of saws and axes working away on the trees. Perhaps he had been over-confident about being back within fifteen minutes.
Having full confidence in his invisible state and that his footsteps would not be heard above the tumultuous camp, he hurried on his way until the destroyed Fort Dega came into view.
It looked crowded with busy orcs clearing away the debris, piling up bodies and burning them and not far to his right they were constructing a wooden hut around a purple glowing cage. Inside the prison sat Master Pilk and Great Shaman O’tukka seemingly undaunted by the activity around them and their desperate plight.
Decker hurried over to the cage and tiptoed to the edge closest to Master Pilk.
“Pssst.” The noise he made had Pilk looking around nonchalantly. Decker repeated the noise a little louder and Master Pilk returned to his former casual position.
“You should not be here,” whispered Pilk. “It is far too risky.”
“Would that prevent you?” asked Decker.
Master Pilk snorted which attracted the attention of a nearby orc. Pilk started coughing uncontrollably. “A little water perhaps?” he shouted out to the guard.
The guard unhitched a small canteen hanging from his belt and threw it into the cage by Pilk’s feet. Pilk reached for it desperately and took a deep swallow coughing some up for effect.
“Thank you,” he said to the orc as he settled himself once again.
“Mistress Cali wants to know if there is a way to break the spell on this cage,” whispered Decker as the guard once again lost interest in the prisoners.
“All magic can be defeated or deflected,” replied Pilk.
“Yeah she said you may say something like that. Can you tell us something a little more specific?” Decker crouched to position himself a little closer to Pilk and didn’t have to whisper so loudly.
“From inside it appears quite impossible to defeat. The Great Shaman and I have been meditating hard for a way around it but have come up short thus far. It prevents all magic within, which reminds me — do not touch the bars or attempt to reach inside as it’ll defeat Mistress Cali’s spell of invisibility.”
“Noted,” replied Decker. “What about from outside?”
“From outside it should be able to be overwhelmed with spells of anti-magic similar to what we we’re doing with the Gate. How much power needed for such a feat I could only guess. I have never seen the like of this cage before.” Pilk leaned back and stretched out his legs on the ground.
“That seems simple enough.” Decker chuckled a little louder than he intended. Pilk covered it up with another short coughing fit.
“We have less than a day until we’ll be taken away and sacrificed to Nefari if Great Shaman O’tukka does not agree to open another gate.” Pilk’s serious tone caught Decker’s attention.
“He will not agree?” asked Decker.
“We are still discussing that very matter. Should he succeed in opening up a gate to Aleri it would spell doom for all of us here on Ka’ton,” replied Pilk.
“Aleri? That’s the mother world you were telling us about? Why would she want to go back there?” Decker was perplexed. The little that he had been told about Aleri had the world being in desolation and dominated by dragons. Sylestra had succeeded in fleeing the doomed world. What could she possibly hope to achieve by opening up a gate to such a perilous place?
“We have theories but not the time to discuss them with you. Your spell can’t have much time left.”
Decker had almost forgotten about that. He had already taken so much longer than he planned. He still had to navigate his way back without being detected and that would take time.
“Then we must break you out of here tonight.” Decker hoped he sounded more confident.
“A difficult undertaking I assure you but I know it’s pointless in attempting to dissuade you. Perhaps we should delay though so as to develop a more comprehensive plan.”
“But you said they plan on sacrificing you tomorrow.” Decker spoke fast now, all too aware of how little time he had left until becoming visible.
“If Great Shaman O’tukka agrees to the task, it will buy us time and give us greater opportunity. He can scarcely create a gate of that power within this cage so they’ll need to take him out. That may create the circumstances we need. Now you must leave. Return tonight and we can discuss it further.”
“Hang in there my friend. We will free you.” Decker stood up, examined his surrounds and padded off toward the tree line. Just before reaching the first tree the magic fluttered out and so he dived for a bush. The scratches he received for his effort were the least of his problems as the rustling of the bush had nearby orcs on high alert.
Knowing that he would be discovered if he stayed there, he jumped to his feet and took off with great haste. Shouts of alarm followed him as he nimbly dodged around the trees.
As he rounded one large tree an orc stepped out from behind it and swung his large axe head high. If not for Decker’s quick reflexes he would have been decapitated. He fell to his knees and slid over a patch of dried leaves, banging his right knee hard against a hidden rock. Even though he rose to his feet on the other side of the orc he could no longer outrun them on his injured knee.
Remembering his magical horse he called out to Ciara and gave a loud whistle as he drew his short sword and dagger. He had no chance of blocking the crazed swing from his orcish foe so he jumped back out of range, landing awkwardly on his wounded right leg. He did his best to ignore the shooting pain, swinging his finely made sword in an arc to stop the charge of the ferocious orc.
It worked but he still stood well in range of the longer reaching weapon and the orc swung faster than he expected — the downward chop missing him by a hair’s breadth. This clumsy attack gave Decker the opportunity he needed and he plunged his dagger hand forward and sunk it deep into the orc’s stomach.
In a fit of rage the orc swung out his left arm and sent Decker sprawling along the grove floor colliding hard against a small birch tree. His dagger remained deep in the orc’s flesh and he struggled to keep a hold of his sword. Fortunately he did, as the orc charged in thinking him prone, but with mighty effort Decker swung his sword and hamstrung his foe. The orc fell in a heap right on top of him, blasting the air from his lungs.
Before the orc could suitably respond, Decker reversed the grip on his sword and plunged it into his back, careful not to penetrate through and inadvertently stab himself. The orc spasmed and blood flowed freely from his mouth. Seconds later he lay still with his full weight still pinning Decker to the tree.
The shouts of the pursuing orcs were close. Too close. Decker started squirming erratically to free himself but he knew in his heart he wasn’t going to make it in time and even if he did he wouldn’t outrun them all with his fresh injuries.
His saviour came in the form of a horse — his magical horse Ciara had heeded his call. He grabbed hold of her mane expecting her to pull him out, but instead the dead orc fell through him and he became as light as air as he pulled himself up with the aid of Ciara and then mounted her.
Before Ciara turned, an orc levelled a crossbow at him and he ducked instinctually as it fired. It went right through his shoulder without harm and imbedded itself in a tree behind him. The orc’s shocked expression was the last thing he saw before Ciara sped off leaving the orcs in her wake.
Racing off through the trees — literally through them — Decker sensed another of Ciara’s surprising magical abilities. A comforting healing energy entered his body and gathered about his right knee. The pain faded and the joint loosened. Other muscles in his body that he hadn’t even realised were so tense also relaxed.
As he neared the edge of the grove, Cressida stepped out from behind a tree with her mighty staff at the ready. On seeing him she lowered her weapon and looked at the horse with a raised eyebrow.
“She truly is a magical horse.” Cressida went to stroke Ciara’s nose but the horse shied away so she pulled her hand back. “Not overly friendly though.”
“We have company on the way.” Decker dismounted and gave Cressida a hug. Master Tayer and Mistress Cali stepped out from behind trees.
“You were seen?” asked Mistress Cali.
“I’ll explain later. For now we have to get out of here. Where are the boys?”
Cressida pointed up into the trees. Decker looked up and noticed first Vik and then Trent in a nearby tree.
“They figured if you were being chased a surprise attack from above could come in handy.”
“Not their worst plan.” Decker smiled. “Come down quick boys, it’s time to go.”
While the boys scurried down Decker sent Ciara away. When they were back on the ground they all put a hand on Master Tayer and suddenly stood in his living room.
“We’re not rescuing Master Pilk?” screamed Mistress Cali.
“Calm down, calm down.” Decker patted the air with both his hands. “Master Pilk has asked that I return tonight to discuss a plan.”
“Since when does Master Pilk make plans?” Master Tayer chuckled as he took a seat in his living room.
“Since the fate of our entire world may depend on it.” Decker’s serious tone wiped the smile from the old wizard’s face in an instant. “Master Pilk was very brief but basically he told me that Sylestra plans to open another gate to Aleri and needs Great Shaman O’tukka to achieve it.”
“She fled that world with everyone else.” Cressida looked at him with her eyebrows raised. “Why would she risk returning?”
“Possibly because a large remnant of her goddess remains there,” interjected Master Tayer. “If she had access to all three worlds she may well be able to bring her goddess back to full power on one of them.”
They all looked at the seated wizard with mouths agape. It made sense to Decker. This woman had sought power her entire life by all reports and never had her fill of it. Of course she would be seeking more.
Decker looked at them all one by one, “Well we must stop that from happening.”
“So what have you decided Gerard?” asked Sylestra. “Will you swear allegiance to me?”
“My allegiance and that of all my friends belongs to another.” Gerard watched the grin vanish from her face to be replaced by a much more sinister look. A power came into her eyes which made him feel hopeless. He became doubtful of their escape plans and started second guessing the decision he had made. He came close to telling Sylestra that he had changed his mind, that he would swear allegiance and convince the others to do likewise until his strength of will kicked in — a long nurtured force often mistaken as stubbornness.
That’s when he realised that is must be a spell of Sylestra’s, making him feel that way and it suddenly became that much easier to fight off. He remembered another who held such power although not as potent — the orc shaman of the Black Skull tribe known as O’tukka. Was this a common power on this world or was there some other relationship here that he wasn’t aware of?
“So you are willing to sacrifice your friend’s life to remain loyal to a king you’ll never see again?” Sylestra’s powerful gaze let up to be replaced by a look of curiosity.
“What good is loyalty if it is to be abandoned the moment things seem helpless? Loyalty is not a quality of convenience.” Gerard stood firm and made a point of looking deep into Sylestra’s eyes.
“So what about the loyalty you owe to your friend?” Sylestra returned his stare but all menace vanished from her eyes.
“I remain loyal to him and that is why I shall respect his honour.”
“He would prefer death over a life of servitude to me? I am deeply wounded.” She smiled a crooked smile.
“He is a man of honour.”
“He is a fool!” Her loud, sudden reply had Gerard on his guard. “And he will die a fool’s death.” Sylestra nodded to the orc guards by the door and they immediately approached him.
Realising that this conversation was at an end, Gerard turned and accompanied them before they laid their hands on him. He willingly followed them all the way to the Slaughterhouse where he resumed his work diligently.
One carcass after another was thrown onto his table where he would carve it up into smaller pieces and throw it into the rail trolley at his side. When the trolley became full another slave would take it away and push it down the tunnel he must enter later.
Hour by slow hour he continued this backbreaking work waiting for the signal. He would have much preferred Jeff here with him as he hadn’t been able to trust many of the slaves. Four days was not enough time to get to know them well enough. Three others were aware of the escape plan and looking at those men now he wished he hadn’t told them — they looked so nervous and obvious. They assured him that many others would join in once they began. They all longed for freedom.
A loud gong sounded.
It was the mid-afternoon changing of the guards and the agreed upon signal. They were to give it an hour after the signal before they made a move to be sure the relieved guards were long gone.
The next half hour dragged by and Gerard watched as more than the usual perspiration formed on the foreheads of the three slaves. One being so red in the face he feared the man would have a heart attack at any moment. But what he feared more was the attention they were receiving from the guards.
As he watched, an orc guard approached the red faced slave. Gerard could see the shivering of the slave intensify from where he stood, some twenty paces away. Another orc guard watched on from a distance and sidled in that direction.
“Are you sick, human?” The orc towered over the small framed man.
“N—no, I don’t think so,” stuttered the slave.
“You don’t look well. You know the rules. You are to report any sickness. We can’t have you spoiling the meat with your filth.”
“I feel fine.” The slave held his bloodied knife by his side in shaky hands. His grip tightened.
“Then why are you red faced and shaking? Speak up now.” The orc guard drew his sword. Nearby slaves noticed the commotion, watching it from the corner of their eyes as they continued to work.
“I’ve just been working extra hard today.” The slave looked at Gerard. The glance did not escape the orc guard’s attention.
Gerard shook his head. It was still too early.
“Ha. I doubt that. More likely you’re up to something. Come with me. I think you need to spend time in the hole.” The orc shifted his sword to his left hand, grabbed the slave with his right and dragged him along.
The slave appeared set to faint. He took turned to Gerard and shrugged his shoulders as the orc dragged him along. Then he gripped his knife tight and thrust it into the orc’s kidney.
The orc howled and in one swift motion he rotated and plunged his sword into the slave’s heart. Life fled from his eyes as the orc shoved him to the ground.
It was still too early but Gerard had to act now. He gripped his butcher’s knife firmly and charged. The orc must have anticipated that as he swung around immediately to meet Gerard’s charge.
Gerard slid under the orc’s wild swing and collided into his legs. The orc tumbled and Gerard wasted no time in hacking into his flesh with the knife.
His gargled screams soon halted.
As the two other slaves rushed to his side, Gerard retrieved the dead orc’s sword and engaged the other guard. The orc became overpowered in an instant and a slave armed himself with his sword while another grabbed the other dead orc’s dagger.
“It’s time to unite and break free of this place,” shouted Gerard. “Together we can overwhelm them.”
Seeing the slaves gather together in groups, the guards made a run for the main door. The hasty retreat of the guards boosted the confidence of the slaves and they chased after them and killed any that they caught.
Slaves still watched on from a distance unsure whether to join in or not but as more orc guards were slaughtered this number soon decreased. The revolt proved to be very infectious which made Gerard thankful.
“Stop them before they reach the door.” Gerard ran with his sword held high and his booming voice could be heard over the tumult.
His warning proved too late.
Despite their best efforts, two orcs made it beyond the door and locked it behind them, sealing the fate of the ten guards that proved too slow. Those remaining guards banded together and took their stand by the double doors.
The slaves kept their distance but made way for Gerard and a few other armed men. Gerard organised them into a line and they stalked in.
“Hold your ground and watch their blades,” he commanded. “Keep your guard up and make them tire.” Given the time and space he could best all ten of these orcs. He simply needed the slaves to keep them from swamping him.
“You will not escape this place you fools,” spat the leading orc. “You have just sealed your fate.”
Gerard engaged him before he said anymore. He didn’t want any doubt to creep into the slaves’ minds.
“As is your fate,” said Gerard as he sliced the orc’s throat. The slaves cheered from behind him but the cheer proved short-lived as the slave on his left was skewered.
Gerard sliced the orc’s hand off before he retracted the sword but the damage had been done. The man collapsed lifelessly to the floor.
Without a weapon and cradling his hand-less arm, the orc didn’t stand a chance and had nowhere to run. He tried hiding behind one of his comrades but Gerard was too quick. He sunk his sword deep into the man’s chest and beheaded the orc on his right with his backswing.
Men ran in and picked up the dead orc’s blades so that the armed slaves outnumbered the orc guards two to one. Gerard darted in behind the fully engaged orcs and jabbed them one by one.
Another slave went down before Gerard got there to save him but within a minute all the guards were dead.
“Where do we go now?” asked one frightened slave.
“The plan was that the dwarves would meet us here once they had cleared out the Weaponsmith but we weren’t to start the revolt until an hour after the change of guard. That is still ten minutes off so it’ll still be some time before they arrive. But right now those orcs that got away are alerting everyone so we can’t stay idle. We have to go into the tunnels and attack the lower levels.” Gerard started moving to the tunnels but a slave stopped him.
“To what end? How do we get escape the compound? The gates open from the outside.” A chorus of agreement went up from the others.
“I know of a way over the wall. You have to trust me on this. But for now we must clear this place out. C’mon follow me.” Gerard marched on and this time they all followed him to the mouth of the tunnels. “Here we split up among the tunnels. Watch your feet and try not to fall over. It’s very steep and dark. Be prepared for a fight at the other end.”
Halfway down the tunnel a bell rang.
“Move faster.” Gerard sidestepped down the dark tunnel. His boot hit a loose rock and he tumbled over and slid painfully down the tunnel. As it levelled out he managed to roll to his feet and charge out with his sword at the ready.
The orcs were already reacting to the warning bell and grouping together making for the exits. The slaves on this level were looking around confused and their eyes widened in horror as he ran out.
“Arm yourselves and fight.” Gerard thrust his sword into the stomach of the closest orc and kicked him to the ground. “Fight for your freedom.”
Slaves picked up whatever they could use as a weapon and went after the guards. Once again some were slow to react but the promise of freedom proved too much for them to resist.
The men from the upper level started pouring from the tunnels and intercepting the fleeing orcs. Gerard chopped down any that came near him as they were more concerned about running away than fighting. The orcs occasionally stabbed a slave if they became cornered or if one got in their way.
Once again orc guards made it to the exits and secured the doors behind them. The orcs left behind were soon dispatched as the slave numbers swelled and more of them picked up arms.
“Quick! To the lower floor.” Gerard once again ran for the tunnels and the large group of slaves followed.
When they reached the lowest level of the building they found a bunch of very confused slaves. The orc guards had already retreated behind their security doors and locked them.
“Check the front door,” Gerard commanded a slave.
“It’s locked from the outside,” reported the slave after checking it.
“So now what?” whined another slave. “Now we are locked in here while they assemble a force to come and kill us all.”
“Others will be here soon enough to open the front door. For now we have much to do. Follow me.” Gerard led them into the tunnels and climbed his way up to the second level. He picked out two of the strongest men. “Grab some meat hooks and tenderising mallets.”
While they ran off to do as requested he started gathering together all the armed slaves.
“There are crawl spaces that connect all areas of this building. We are going to use them to get on the other side of those locked doors. No doubt we’ll meet resistance on the way so be ready for a fight.” He turned to all the unarmed slaves. “I want all of you to make your way to the upper level and wait by the locked door. Arm yourselves with whatever you can find to use as a weapon.”
The two slaves returned with the meat hooks and mallets. Gerard led them into the tunnel that Jeff had told him about and climbed up while constantly touching the wall.
Finally his hand made contact with what he searched for — the metal ladder leading into the crawl space. He grabbed the two men and gave them instructions of where they would find the grate that led over the wall.
“Start scratching and chipping away at the rock holding the grate in place,” he instructed. “Some dwarves will come to relieve you soon but do as much as you can until then.”
The two slaves scurried up the ladder. A loud metal clunk overhead told Gerard that the hatch had been thrown back successfully. He breathed a sigh of relief. He hoped they hadn’t somehow managed to lock it.
“All right, follow me closely.” Gerard climbed the ladder with the armed men hot on his heels.
He had a rough idea of which way he needed to go but he could get lost up here. Not wishing to waste any more time than they had already, he crawled off in the opposite direction to the two slaves.
At each intersection he came across he took his best guess and tried to keep a mental picture of the layout of the building. He second guessed himself when he came to a dead end blocked by a light metal vent.
He signalled for the others to stop and remain quiet while he crept on ahead. Nearing the end, he heard voices.
Lots of voices.