* * * * *
Filing out of their cells, Thorik & Santorray fell in line with the other prisoners as they weaved their way toward the main room to collect rations of bread and mining tools. The Blothrud held onto his side and his demeanor was subservient. He needed the guards to lower their defenses against the eight-foot tall beast for their plan to work. The cuts from their attempt to take one of his fingers added to the ruse.
Gathering his pick, Thorik grabbed his loaf of bread as he looked at the door behind the food table. It was a thick wooden door with a small peephole window, metal hinges and lock. Glancing up at Santorray, the beast winked.
Santorray stumbled in line, grabbing his side. Falling to one knee, he rested from the fake pain as several guards came over to prod him back into line. Using the food table for support to stand back up, it tipped over causing him to fall along with the bread.
He rolled out of line, grabbing his side as he crushed the loafs of bread.
“Get up!” a guard ordered, poking him with the end of his spear, as the food server reset the empty table.
The Blothrud complied, and pushed himself back up on his powerful wolf-like legs.
Thorik helped his friend up, receiving the Blothrud’s large hand on his shoulder to give him balance.
Prodded by several guards, Santorray slowly made his way back to the line. It was at this time that the server unlocked the thick wooden door to acquire more rations.
As the key unlocked the door and the door began to swing open, Santorray single handedly grabbed and tossed Thorik at the door. Flying over twenty feet through the air, Thorik was prepared to make their escape.
Hearing the commotion behind him, the server quickly darted though the doorway to shut and lock it behind him. But before he could do so, Thorik hit the door, knocking the man back a step. Reaching for the door again, he pushed it shut just as Thorik’s mining pick entered the doorway and twisted, preventing the door from closing.
Santorray sprinted forward, knocking over tables and guards as he rushed the door. Arrows cut near enough to his head that he could hear the whistle of their feathers, but none pierced the skin.
Just as the guard gave a strong shoulder block against the door to keep the Num out, Santorray reached the door with his own shoulder, slamming the man against the wall.
Once they were through the doorway, Thorik turned and quickly locked the door behind them before racing after Santorray.
The short hall opened up into a large cavernous dock area. The fragmented light danced around through the river’s mist, landing on the crates along the docks. A large ship was docked at one side, where a few guards and several dockhands had converged, arguing about trade taxes and various other port regulations.
Stacks of supplies, barrels of ale, and crates of tools rested in various locations, many of them blocking the appearance of the prisoners as they raced into the dock area. The smell of tropical plants filled the air as vines hung from the upper mouth of the cave entrance.
Rounding the stacked crates, over a dozen men turned from the dock near the ship, as they noticed the escapees. Additional ship crew grabbed their crossbows and aimed them at the oncoming beast.
Thorik finally caught up to his cellmate and led Santorray to the men on the dock who had weapons drawn. Moving toward the guarded ship, there was no turning back.
A robust man in the center of the guards and dockhands convinced the guards to stand their ground. “Dat beast is look’n ta take the ship fer his escape. Stay togeth’r so he can’t fight us one at a time.” His clothes were different than the Rava’Kor Mine men and he had a sense of authority about his demeanor. Shirtless, his large sweaty gut hung over his belt as he straightened his vest and combed his hair with a swipe of his hand.
Santorray approached the dock, with the Num next to him. He was looking for options as he counted the heads he would have to slay to escape, assuming he could do so before the other men aboard the ship launched their arrows at him. With over sixteen loaded crossbows aimed at the Blothrud, the escapee’s path had come to an end.
Thorik stopped and signaled Santorray to do the same. “Can we talk truce?” he asked the fat man in the center.
The man limped forward, using a Fesh leg bone for a cane. “Stay back by the ship, me lads,” he said to the Rava’Kor guards. “I’ll show ya how dis is done.” Walking up to the two prisoners, he scratched his backside and laughed. “Looks like we got ‘ear an escape plan come to an end.”
Santorray growled and showed his teeth.
Wiping his nose on his arm, the fat man continued. “Ya know, there’s never been a prison I couldn’t escape from.” He paused and looked back at the guards before looking at his crew on his ship. The ship’s name, Sinecure, could faintly be made out from the worn paint along its side. “Including this one,” he shouted back to his crew.
Upon hearing his words, a large cargo net was tossed out of the ship by the sailors, landing on the guards below. Raising up from the lower deck, a twelve-foot tall Mognin reached up and yanked a rope, pulling the net tight around the guard’s feet. The entire group fell to the ground, entangling themselves more as they fought for their freedom.
“Come on lad, we been waiting fur hours and ready ta be leav’n dis place.”
Thorik ran past him toward the ship. “Thanks, Captain Mensley. You were right, they had no plans of letting me leave, but your escape plan worked perfectly.”
“I wouldn’t say that. I see a Blothrud where the boy Ericc should be stand’n.”
“I’ll explain once we’re underway,” Thorik yelled back.
Now realizing that they were safe to escape, the Blothrud walked over to one of the netted guards and ripped off a patch of cloth from his coat. “Be glad that this is all that I’m ripping off you.”
Santorray began to follow Thorik up onto the ship, but was stopped by the Captain. “Captain Dare Mensley, I be, and this ‘er is my ship. Where does ya think you be going, ya Altered?”
Thorik looked over his shoulder at the captain. “He’s with me.”
“A Del ya say? To board me ship? A Bloth to boot, I add.”
Santorray prepared to push the fat man out of his way until he noticed the captain’s men aiming their crossbows at him, again. He restrained himself. “You have something against the Del’Unday?”
“Of course I does, but that ain’t the reason I stopped ya. I doesn’t recall you paying for passage on me vessel. Perhaps a payment of that large crate over yonder would suffice.” He pointed at a crate past a stack of barrels.
Santorray looked up at the captain’s men. Hand to hand combat was one thing, being showered with thick arrows was another. He agreed without acknowledging it and turned toward the crate.
With the guards and dockhands tied up in the net, there was no one to stop the Del’Unday from taking what he wanted. Lifting the entire crate with one strong heave, he walked it back over to the ship and up the ramp. Glass bottles clanked and chimed as they rattled around inside.
“Easy does it, ya beast,” Mensley said. “Them aren’t rum bottles ya be play’n with. She be Nectar of Irr.” His mouth drooled and his eyes fluttered as he spoke the name.
Releasing the net’s rope to the ship-hands, Grewen greeted Thorik. “Welcome back, little man.”
“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” Thorik replied to the giant. “Where is everyone else?”
“Below deck,” Grewen replied.
“Set sail dis ‘ear ship before the workers come to der senses!” the captain shouted as he untied the ropes from the docks.
Chapter 10
Reunion
Sacrifice of Ericc Page 11