Invasion Page 8

  That ‘something’ happened to be a metal ladder attached to the wall of the tunnel. He had to act fast for if another worker pushed a meat cart down this tunnel he’d be struck and killed — not to mention that it wouldn’t take too long until the guards noticed his absence.

  He scurried up the grimy ladder and placed his right hand firmly against the trapdoor overhead. He listened carefully for a moment for any sound above the trapdoor.

  He heard none.

  Still he waited. Then sounded the noise he had been waiting for — the next meat cart thundering along the track. Keeping his body as close to the ladder as possible so he wasn’t hit, he pushed up hard on the trapdoor and it squeaked open, but the sound was drowned out by the rattling noise of the cart speeding by.

  Jeff pushed the trapdoor all the way back and lifted himself into the space above. He quickly and painfully discovered that he now squatted in a crawl space as he hit his head on the rock ceiling above.

  Crouched on all fours and not sure which way to go, he took a guess and started crawling. He soon reached an intersection and to his right a dusty light filtered in so he crept towards it.

  As he neared, it became obvious that the light came from a metal grate on one side of the crawl space. When he reached it he looked out of it and smiled.

  A large animal yard lay below him where various animals awaited slaughter in their segregated paddocks. Beyond that he caught sight of the city for the first time.

  It looked immense.

  Buildings scattered about as far as the eye could see and orcs, half-orcs and even humans lined the many roads. The slave compound sat on top of a hill and with Jeff being three storeys high it afforded him a great view.

  The beginnings of an escape plan started to form in his mind.

  Once he had a clear picture in his mind of the city layout, he turned around and shuffled back the way he came. When he got to the ladder, he climbed down a few rungs and waited for a cart to speed by him until he closed the hatch and hurried down the rest of the way.

  Now for the dangerous part.

  He scurried up the steep incline while keeping an ear out for any approaching carts. When one came he barely made it against the wall before it rushed by — the wind blew against his face. He wasted no time after that hurrying the rest of the way.

  He did a quick scan before leaving the tunnel to make sure he wasn’t observed. As he took a step out, he knew that his disappearance had not gone unnoticed. Movement in the corner of his eye was the only warning he got before something solid connected with the back of his head and all went black.

  When he regained consciousness he found himself lying on a cold stone floor in a small cell with a throbbing headache. He lifted his head with an effort and saw an orc standing at the cell with a wicked grin.

  “You wake at last,” said the orc guard.

  “I wish I hadn’t.” Jeff rubbed the back of his head and found a large lump where he’d been struck. Surprisingly the orc chuckled.

  “You will live — at least for a time. Supreme Mistress Sylestra will no doubt wish to speak with you when she returns. She doesn’t look kindly on escape attempts.” The orc guard turned to leave.

  “Escape attempt? I have no idea what you’re talking about. I was simply inspecting the tunnel as another worker told me that a cart got jammed earlier today.” Jeff thought the lie to be a longshot but worth the effort — it might save his life.

  “A jam should have been reported and it is not your job to fix jams,” barked the guard.

  “It was a minor incident and I thought I might fix it without bothering the guards.” Jeff slowly lifted himself to his knees and then attempted to stand up. A wave of nausea came over him and he dropped once more to his knees.

  “And were you able to see anything in the dark?” The orc mocked him as he gripped the metal bars.

  “I could not. I didn’t realise it’d be so dark down there,” replied Jeff struggling not to vomit.

  “I grow weary of your lies, human. The Supreme Mistress will soon get the truth out of you.” The orc guard turned abruptly and stormed off.

  A moment later Jeff vomited.

  Vik whispered the words Master Pilk had taught him and pointed yet again at the target. He uttered the release word and a glowing, dark-blue bolt shot out from the tip of his finger. It struck the chest of his painted orc right where the heart would be. The wood cracked and splinters flew off in every direction.

  “Wow,” shouted Trent excitedly, “you shattered the timber and you didn’t take long casting the spell.”

  Vik walked to the timber target and inspected it. A crack ran the length of the grain and the timber would have fallen if not held in place by a wooden support rail. The point of impact showed as a deep, burnt gouge the size of a gold piece. He had no doubt that if his missile hit a real orc it’d knock him to the ground and do serious harm.

  “I’m going to need to build a stronger target.” Vik grinned.

  “Perhaps when Master Pilk returns he can arrange for a metal target.” Trent chuckled as he took a closer look at the damaged target.

  Vik was going to reply with a smug comment about the target needing to be made from no less than the Goldfist dwarves, reputably the best metalsmiths on Ka’ton, when he heard voices inside.

  “Sounds like he may be home now.” Vik hurried to the door and opened it with Trent hot on his heels. Inside he found Cressida helping an injured Decker to a dining chair.

  “You should be lying down and resting, not sitting up or moving about,” lectured Cressida. “Ah boys I see you haven’t managed to burn the house down,” she continued as she turned to them.

  “Are you all right?” Vik asked Decker.

  “I’ll be fine thanks to this nag here,” replied Decker.

  “It was Koren who managed to keep you alive until I arrived.” Cressida pulled out a chair and guided Decker onto it.

  “You almost died?” blurted Trent.

  “Koren said it was a close thing, yes.” Decker shuffled into the chair and stretched out his legs.

  Vik had so many questions he wanted to ask but didn’t know which order to ask them.

  “How did it happen? Is Master Pilk okay? Is the Gate closed?” Trent fired off the questions in quick succession obviously having the same problem as Vik.

  “Master Pilk is fine and no the Gate is not closed,” answered Cressida. “A powerful army has come and is now strengthening the Gate from the other side even as we were trying to drain it. Decker fought against a small part of this army but his story can wait until he is well.”

  “So what will happen now?” asked Vik finally finding his voice.

  “That is for kings and dukes to decide but for now we’ll hold the fort for as long as we can.” Cressida sat next to Decker with a sigh. “So who’s going to make us a cup of hot choco?”

  The relentless banging of the ballista bolts hitting the solid wall was driving Sylestra crazy. She had hoped to be through by now. The hour grew late so it looked unlikely they would attack today as a night time assault would not be wise.

  “I am going to return to Chakun for the night,” she told General Jak’ho who stood beside her. “I will return tomorrow.”

  “Of course, Supreme Mistress. I apologise that this is taking longer than expected. Should anything major happen I will contact you.” The General bowed his head.

  Sylestra called for Zaydok with her magic whistle and within seconds orcs were scattering to make room for the mighty wyvern. She climbed onto his back and strapped herself in and then mentally commanded him to take flight. She considered going to Gnash first to see how her newly acquired tribe fared but decided against it. They had their orders and it would be good to give them space for the moment.

  It was a fine spring day but the rushing wind always made it cold as she flew high above the landscape. She huddled close to Zaydok and absorbed his body heat as she pushed him to fly faster. She looked forward to a nice hot bath and a
soft bed.

  Soon after landing she found she wasn’t going to get that for a while as she many things required her attention. Among them was an attempted escape. She would sort this matter out first.

  They were holding the prisoner in the slave compound jail so it took her a while to walk there accompanied by the head guard who continued telling her the details as they walked. By the time she arrived she had a good understanding of what had happened but she had not been told who had made the attempt except that it had been one of the new captives.

  She wasn’t surprised to find that it had been Jeff and was relieved that it hadn’t been Gerard. She held little doubt that Gerard had been involved somehow but since he had not been caught in the act she would not be obligated to sacrifice him for the crime. It would be a shame to sacrifice this man too as he was physically appealing and reputed to be as fine a swordsman as Gerard, but she had not felt the same connection with him.

  His sacrifice would please Nefari very much and his strength and skill would serve to enhance her own. Before she did this though, she needed to interrogate him.

  “Were you not happy in my compound?” she asked him as he looked up at her from the floor.

  “No one of right mind would be happy in your compound,” Jeff spat back. The man looked to be in quite a lot of pain as he made no move to stand up. He continued to lie on the cold stone floor curled up in a foetal position.

  “Are you not well?” she asked with mild concern. She couldn’t have him dying before having the chance to sacrifice him.

  “A solid whack to the head and a beating afterwards will do that to you. So nice of you to be concerned for me though.” His words were staggered and laboured. Sylestra called to the head guard.

  “Have you arranged a healer for this man yet?” she asked as the guard entered the corridor.

  “No, Supreme Mistress. I didn’t wish to waste the energies of our healers.” The guard bowed his head and spoke in an unsure voice.

  “I will garner no information out of a dead man,” she shouted. This wasn’t entirely true for she had the power to raise the spirit and ask of it what she willed but that expended even more energy than what a simple healing would. Not to mention the extra time it would take — time she could ill afford at present.

  “I understand, Supreme Mistress. I will send for one immediately.” The guard hurried off.

  “I am not surprised by your escape attempt,” said Sylestra, turning her attention back to Jeff. “I am surprised and a little disappointed that you were caught so quickly and easily. I expected more from you and Gerard.”

  “Gerard was not involved and I wasn’t trying to escape,” Jeff replied. She didn’t expect that he would be so easy to trick but it had been worth a try.

  “If I find out you’re lying it will go a lot worse for you.” Sylestra allowed a little menace into her voice.

  “Worse than death? Or being sacrificed to your cruel goddess?” Jeff laughed a mocking laugh.

  “Yes!” she shouted which silenced his laugh immediately. “Worse than death and being sacrificed. I have many painful tortures at my disposal and my ‘cruel goddess’ knows a thing or two about death. It is her specialty you see. I can hold you at the cusp of death for as long as I choose while inflicting the most pain possible. You will be begging for the sweet release of death and yet I will not allow it.”

  “You’ll make a fine wife one day.” Jeff laughed which turned into a choking cough. “You’ll make your husband so happy with your chirpy personality.”

  Despite her best efforts, Sylestra could not help but chuckle at his mocking quip.

  “So who else is planning on escaping?” she asked.

  “No one to my knowledge and I wasn’t trying to escape as I tried telling your ugly guards.” Jeff uncurled himself a little and looked at her with narrowed eyes and clenched teeth.

  “Yes, yes, you were just inspecting the rail for damage. A little dangerous doing so with the carts rushing by isn’t it? And a little dark to see much without carrying a light source.” It was Sylestra’s turn to mock.

  “I didn’t realise it’d be so dark and I thought with the carts continuing by it’d better show me where they were having trouble.”

  “You were in there some time. Did you find the problem?” Sylestra thought that if his story was remotely plausible she may not have to sacrifice him after all. Perhaps some other severe punishment for not following protocol would suffice.

  “It proved to be too dark. I stayed in there for long enough to watch a few carts go by on different sections of the track but I saw no obvious problem. Perhaps the problem was with the cart itself.” Jeff worked his way up onto wobbly legs and took a couple of steps to the wooden bench where he sat down.

  “Did you inform any of the other workers what you were doing?” Sylestra took a step closer to the cell. Jeff’s glanced at her legs and back up again. She took pride in her appearance and whether she wore tight fitting riding outfits as she was now or her most elaborate gowns, she always attracted the attention of men — and a lot of women for that matter — and she thrived on that attention and used it to her best advantage.

  “No,” he replied quickly trying to cover up the indiscretion of his wandering eye. “It was a spur of the moment act.”

  “One that may cost you your life,” replied Sylestra.

  “As a poorly played sword stroke can do. Life is full of dangers.” Jeff’s voice was low and defeated.

  “Bad decisions increase those dangers.” Sylestra heard a metal gate open and turned to see the head guard returning with a necromantic healer by his side.

  “See that he is fully healed. I will question him further when he is in a better state.” She walked by the guard and healer with their heads bowed and left the dungeon. Now for the next item on her growing list.

  Master Pilk awoke from a fragmented sleep. The constant pounding of ballista bolts against the dwarven plug keeping him on edge. He felt groggy and unfocused but he could sleep no more and so he got up and sought out breakfast.

  The fort remained silent with the exception of the loud banging as every soldier appeared lost in thought. Master Pilk could see the crumbling wall from where he sat eating his porridge. Dwarves still worked relentlessly on it, trying to strengthen shattered stone and timber with the limited resources at their disposal. The wall would not hold out much longer. Soldiers stood in formation around it for that inevitability while archers perched along the nearby walls and buildings with bows at the ready.

  “Where is Duke Angus?” Pilk asked the soldier next to him.

  “I hear he went to visit the King last night. Master Tayer took him.”

  “I hope he returns with good news then,” replied Pilk.

  “I hope he returns with five thousand men.” The soldier laughed which proved infectious to all those within earshot.

  Master Pilk joined in and his spirits improved. Despite the circumstances, morale still remained high.

  He hoped that continued.

  After his breakfast he stood near the Gate and waited for all the wizards to arrive. They looked dishevelled.

  “I’ll make this brief as time appears short. All those willing to stay for the fight please raise your hand.” Master Pilk was not surprised to see the Arthean wizards’ hands go up immediately. A few other hands hesitantly went up.

  He waited and continued to look around the group.

  Finally more hands went up. It proved contagious and soon every wizard in the group had raised their hand. A strong sense of pride washed over Pilk and he couldn’t contain his smile.

  “I thank you all. I know the fear you must be feeling right now but if we stick together we can overcome this. Now, we have much planning to do and very little time to do it.” Master Pilk started explaining his strategy to them based on what he observed from the attackers last time they attacked. “We must stick close to one another so that we can coordinate our attacks and so that we can retreat with a moment’s n
otice.”

  After an hour or so of developing and refining his strategy, Master Tayer joined them.

  “The Duke has returned?” asked Pilk.

  “He has,” replied the old wizard.

  “I hope he has good news.” Pilk repeated his words from earlier that day.

  “He has news. I’m sure he’ll wish to see you when you have the time for it.” The grim expression on Tayer’s face did not sit well with Pilk and he hoped that the other wizards did not pick up on it.

  “I’ll give you a quick rundown on our strategy and then I’ll go and see him. Then I think you should get some rest. It looks to be a very eventful day.” Pilk explained the strategy after a nod from the old wizard. Tayer had a few things to add which Pilk appreciated and together they refined the strategy even more and added contingency plans.

  Once Pilk was happy that everyone understood their duty, he went off to seek Duke Angus. He found him in his tent accompanied by King Buster, General Ludko and Major Hillsworth. All appeared grim.

  “I came as soon as I was able, my lord Duke.” He entered the tent with a slight bow of his head and took the closest seat.

  “That is quite all right, Master Pilk,” replied the Duke. “To bring you up to speed quickly, King Cassien cannot send any support. Witchwyn is under siege by the Raziyans.”

  “Witchwyn?” The report hit Pilk like a ton of bricks. “What are they doing sieging Witchwyn?”

  “It seems that our support of General Krak’too’s army did not go unnoticed. They mean to punish us. King Cassien was less than impressed.”

  “They will punish us, but not in the way they think. Likely they’ll be punished too once the Ta’zu gain a foothold on our world,” replied Pilk sombrely.

  “It may well be,” said Duke Angus. “Nevertheless we are on our own, at least for a time, until the siege is broken and the Raziyan’s driven back.”