by Rick Johnson
“You make it sound like we’re walking by a store without buying shoes,” Emil laughed. “Tilk Duraow is the biggest, most secure prison the High One has. They don’t call it the Bridge of No Return for nothing. Look, this is not like buying a pair of shoes.” Seeing the wheels turning in this sister’s brain, he added, “No, Helga! No! Don’t even think about it! We’ve got to get these poor beasts to safety. Let’s not get distracted.”
“So, Great-Grandfather Klemés, who may have been breaking rock these last seven years, is a distraction?” Helga asked.
“No, he’s not a distraction,” Emil responded, “it’s just that it’s hard enough to get these two hundred beasts to safety without trying to break into the High One’s super-prison and spring a family member!”
“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of going through all the trouble just for Great-Grandfather Klemés,” Helga said seriously. “If I’m going in there, I’m going to bring every beast out that I can.”
“Go in there!” Emil said, trying to maintain his cool. “What are you thinking? Have you gone nuts?”
“Look,” Helga replied, “the Wrackshee camp was, at least, heavily damaged. You saw what happened to the Skull Buzzards. We know other brazzens of Skull Buzzards are on their way to the Everlost. You yourself told me all that, which is why we’re even heading toward Tilk Duraow at all. We’re here. It’s possible they’re a little understaffed right now…”
“Understaffed!” Emil howled. “Understaffed, she says!”
“Use whatever word you want,” Helga replied. “Whatever you call it, they can’t be everywhere at once. If I was sending eight or nine brazzens of Skull Buzzards on a mission, I think I might pull them from a place like Tilk Duraow. After all, who in their right mind would attack a place like that?”
“Helga, you just made my point for me,” Emil sighed.
“Great! Then we agree,” Helga smiled. Then, she turned serious. “Look, Emil, I know what you mean. I understand the danger. But, hear me out. I’m not thinking about an all out attack on the fortress. I’m really not that nuts. What I’m thinking about is a little exploration, that’s all. We get these poor beasts safely across the bridge. Then, you and Christer lead them through the Offaluvia to freedom. I’ll stay behind a do a little exploring.”
“What kind of exploring?” Emil asked.
“I’ll stay behind. Study the lay of the land. Watch the routines and goings-on at the fortress. Get a feel for the place.”
“Then what?” Emil said, cracking a half-smile at his sister.
“Then, one nice quiet evening, I’ll slip into Tilk Duraow. Once inside, I find Klemés and get him and as many others as I can out the door.”
“All right, Helga,” Emil responded, “I’ll agree to this insane plan on one condition. You don’t do a thing until we are all safely in the Offaluvia. Then, if you want to go back and do something incredibly brave and stupid, I’ll admire you for the rest of my life as the greatest sister the world has ever known!”
“I’ve got one thing to add to this discussion,” Christer said. Emil and Helga had nearly forgotten he was listening. “If you go, I go,” Christer said. “I didn’t come all the way after you, walking two days without sleeping, then go through all the rest of this adventure the last few weeks, just to see you go nuts by yourself! If you’re going to do this insane thing, I’m going with you.”
Helga smiled. “Don’t press your luck, Christer,” she chuckled. “You’ve hung around with me long enough to know that, if I do something, I won’t do it half way. When I say I’m going to try to break some beasts out of Tilk Duraow, you know I’m not kidding. I’d be glad to have you come along, just know that we may not have enough luck to get us back out.”
“This isn’t about luck,” Christer replied with a serious look. “They don’t call it the Bridge of No Return for nothing. I know that. This is about taking an opportunity we have to help some beasts. We both know that luck won’t be enough to get us in and out of that fortress.”
“All right, then,” Helga said, “we have two crazies aboard.” Turning to Emil, she continued, “While we’re waiting to move out, I want you to tell Christer and me everything you heard from Home about Tilk Duraow. Layout. Security. General operations. Everything you can remember.”
“Can I listen in?” Bem asked, joining the group. “I’ve talked with the other beasts about our plan. They’re ready to go as soon as we give the signal.” Embracing Helga, she said, “More than anything, I’d like to go with you. If you succeed in breaking into Tilk Duraow, even if you fail in your plan, it will send shockwaves through the High One’s realm. No one has ever dared to mount such an attack. I’d love to be part of it, but I’ve got two promises to keep: one to Boss to make sure I get our new friends to freedom, and the other to BorMane who will be waiting for me in Hadst. But, I really want to hear Emil’s description of the place and add to your plans as I can.”
Settling down in the ravine, leaning against rocks and logs, Emil began describing what he had heard from Home. “The Tilk Duraow fortress is set on a pinnacle of rock, nearly encircled by an immense chasm. The Bridge of No Return is the only way across the chasm and, thus, the only way to reach Tilk Duraow from the north, east, and south. The bottom of the chasm runs with scalding-hot water rising from deep underground so there’s no way to get across the chasm except by the bridge. On the west, a desolate, steep slope drops away from the rear of the fortress. Although the slope is passable, it is extremely treacherous and used as the fortress’s garbage dump and sewer. Most beasts would not consider approaching the fortress from the west. The walls of the fortress run in an irregular shape, following the contour of the rock. Circular towers project from the walls at regular intervals. Inside the fortress, two distinct areas divide it by function. The level of the castle gained through the main entrance houses all the primary operations and troops. A lower level of the castle holds all the slave cells. The work of the slaves is to cut rock from the walls of the chasm—known as the Granite Hulks—and haul it into the fortress. Once the rough stone is inside, slaves shape it into the proper size for stones to build Maev Astuté.”
Emil paused, casting a glance toward the crowd of escaped slaves. “The work of slaves at Tilk Duraow is brutal and extremely dangerous. That is what we are saving those beasts from.” He closed his eyes for a moment, then continued. “The lower level of the fortress opens out onto the chasm at several points to allow access to the stone-cutting cliffs of the Granite Hulks. These openings are only accessible from the inside of the fortress. On the main level, the front half has the Skull Buzzards barracks, the kitchen, and the command center. The back half has a range of low utilitarian structures that process garbage and sewage, as well as the dragon yards.”
“Dragon yards!” Helga exclaimed. “There are dragons in the fortress?”
“Yes, that’s what Home says,” Emil replied. “At Tilk Duraow, they break the monitors used to run the dragon trains. They bring wild monitors to Tilk Duraow where they train them to run in harness for the dragon trains. Those are the main supply caravans between Tilk Duraow, Norder Crossings, and Port Newolf.”
“Believe me, I know all about that,” Helga said grimly. Then, she asked, “Tell me more about the layout of the main level—how are the front half and the back half, where the dragon yards are, connected?”
“So far as Home said,” Emil continued, “the main level has a huge, open area in the center where the troops drill and parade. The dragon yard is a heavily fenced area directly adjacent to the parade ground. Watching the Dragon Breakers work is one of the favored kinds of entertainment among the troops, so when they’re off duty, they gather on the parade-ground to watch.”
“That’d be something to see, all right,” Bem said.
“It’s more than that,” Emil replied. “Home says that the troops pay for a Dragon Breaker to do fancy tricks while he’s riding the dragons: like keeping gold coins between his feet and the saddle stirrups while
the dragon is trying to throw him off.”
“I’d sure like to know how they get the coins in the stirrups,” Helga observed. “Having seen how deadly ferocious trained dragons are up close, I can’t imagine how you’d be able to ride a wild one.”
“According to Home,” Emil said, “the only way you can capture a wild dragon is to get a gag-chack over its head. If you can get a gag-chack in place, pulling on it shuts off the dragon’s air. When he tires from lack of wind, you quickly blindfold him with a steel blinder and allow him to breathe again. A dragon won’t do anything when it can’t see, so as long as the blinder is in place, he allows himself to be saddled and mounted. A blind dragon’s no use, however, so they have to be broken and trained without a blindfold. When the rider is in the saddle, the blind is removed. Then the fun begins! Depending on how experienced a particular Dragon Breaker is, the troops bet money on whether he will survive the ride, or how long he can stay in the saddle, or if the coins stay in the stirrups.”
Helga had been hardly listening to this talk. Her mind was busy elsewhere. “You said the dragon yard is heavily fenced. Where are the gates?” Helga asked, with a thoughtful gleam in her eye.
Emil thought for a moment, then replied. “Home never really talked about that, but I think there must be a gate somewhere along the parade-ground, because the dragon trains load up in, and depart from, the parade ground. There’s got to be some way to get the dragons from the dragon yard to the parade-ground. Why do you ask?”
“Oh, nothing,” Helga answered, “just curious, that’s all.”
As they continued talking, fog began to drift in. Slowly the already darkening landscape completely disappeared. “That’s a help,” Emil commented.
“Yes,” Helga agreed, “let’s just hope it stays around a while. We’ll need all the help we can get, moving all of us across the bridge.”
The sounds of heavy movement across the bridge interrupted these brief rejoicings, however. TRAMP! TRAMP! CLUMP-RUMBLE-KJUNK! Concealed well in the ravine and with the heavy fog rolling in, the comrades were not worried about immediate discovery. What they heard, however, made their hearts rise. Amidst the rumbling of the troops tramping across the bridge, Helga and the others picked out a few things said by the passing troops.
“Blast the dolts that command us!” the rasping voice of a Skull Buzzard said. “What do they think we are, common laborers?”
“Ackkkk! Curse them!” another voice agreed. “So what if the Wrackshee camp got damaged? They run us out of our nice warm barracks, all in a rush, to head off on some crazy rescue effort. I hear there’s nothing left to rescue.”
“Nay, nothing left! That’s the truth,” the first voice replied. “I hear that every last inch of the place is buried under tons of rubble, and flooded, to boot! It’s stupid for the dolts to send us over there. Why, who is going to guard the fortress? They’d already called most of our brazzens out on one mission or another. Who’s left after we leave?”
“Ackkk!” the second Skull Buzzard cursed. “They’ve shut down the stone-breaking work and confined all the slaves to their cells—as if that’s the answer! Leave a few squads to sling the mush to the slaves and post most of the troops you have in the towers to make it appear normal.”
“Ackkk! Bats in their shorts! That’s what I say! Dolts in command—and that’s a fact.” That was the last of the words that Helga and her comrades could make out. Soon the troops had passed over the bridge and their tramping died away.
“Sounds like they are, indeed, ‘understaffed,’ as you suggested earlier,” Emil said.
“Yes,” Helga replied. “But we don’t know how many really are left and where they are.”
“But, it makes your plan look a little more promising than I originally thought,” Emil said.
“We shall see,” Helga said quietly, “we shall see.”
The conversation died down and nothing more was said until Bem commented, “It’s been pitch black and soundless for a long time, do you think it’s time we began to move?” The rest of her comrades agreed that the time had come. Going back to the group of fugitives, Bem gave final instructions and encouragement. Then, with Emil and Helga in the lead, the group moved out.
When they reached the head of the bridge, seeing no apparent guards or traffic on the bridge, Emil signaled for everyone to crouch and move forward. Creeping low and moving fast, the entire company crossed the bridge in what seemed to be the longest half-hour in Helga’s memory. Only once did a loud fit of coughing bring the movement to a halt. Holding their breath, they waited. In the lead, Emil was the first to realize that the cough had come from a sentinel posted above them in one of the wall towers of Tilk Duraow! They were at the end of the bridge and at the very base of the fortress walls.
Motioning for the group to move again, Emil led them along the base of the wall. In the darkness and fog, he did not exactly know where he was leading them. He did know that following the wall took them along the very edge of the chasm. The ledge was narrow and rocky. There was no room for error. A whispered instruction went beast-to-beast through the line: “One paw or hoof on your neighbor’s shoulder, the other on the wall—keep contact with both. Stay together. Move single file.”
Inching along the base of the fortress, the group stealthily made good progress. The ledge between the wall and the edge of the chasm was barely wide enough for the beasts to walk single-file. At times, the ledge nearly disappeared. At other times, rocks seemed to block the way. Leading the way forward, unable to see, relying almost solely on touch, Emil’s heart beat frantically. The bravery of the fugitives behind him gave him hope and courage. More than 200 beasts of all ages, some sick and barely able to walk, had maintained nearly absolute silence since leaving the ravine. How long could that continue? How much farther did they need to go? After an especially treacherous climb over a jumble of jagged rocks, the ledge suddenly widened. When everyone was across the rocks and standing on the widened ledge, Emil signaled a halt.
“What now?” Helga whispered.
“Let everyone rest for few minutes,” Emil said. “While we’ve got a bit of a breathing space, let’s you and I explore a bit. It sure would be nice to know something about where we are and what’s ahead.”
Leaving Bem and Christer in charge for the time being, Emil and Helga felt their way forward. Walking side-by-side, at arm’s length, they moved along the wall. They had moved only a few yards when flickering lights glowed through the fog ahead. Listening carefully and hearing no sound that indicated beasts were moving about, they continued forward. A few more steps revealed huge mounted torches, illuminating a massive opening in the wall! The torchlight allowed them to look around. “This must be one of the openings from the slave level of the fortress,” Emil whispered. “We didn’t know it in the dark, but the ledge slopes downward. We’re now at the lower level of the fortress. This is one of the work gates to the Granite Hulks.”
Surveying the area in the flickering light, Emil and Helga saw stone-cutting equipment scattered about: pickaxes, hammers, saws, chisels, scaffolding, and other tools, ready for use. Huge piles of firewood were stacked along one side.
“What’s with the firewood, I wonder,” Helga said. “I don’t see a hearth.”
“Home said that the granite is so hard that they build fires to soften it, so they can cut it with saws. Can you imagine beasts swinging on ropes, building fires under rock they are working on, then, sawing the hot rock by hand? Home said that sometimes, the heated rock splits, and huge pieces break away, knocking workers to the bottom of the chasm. Nasty, brutish work.”
“That’s why we’re not going to let the good beasts with us end up here,” Helga replied with quiet fury.
Continuing their investigation, they found that a massive iron-bar gate closed off the open work area from the interior of the fortress. They could see no sign of guards or other activity.
“Thanks to the High One for his efforts to shut down the raids on his slaves,” H
elga chuckled. “It sure helps us that they’ve pulled most of the troops from here and closed down operations for now. Since they won’t be needing them for a while, I think I’ll borrow some rope and a few handtools. I may need them later.” Quickly slinging a coil of rope over her shoulder, she also picked up a hammer and chisel, slipping them into her pack. They were just about to return to the rest of the group when Emil said, “Helga, look—there’s keys hanging over on that wall!”
Glancing in the direction Emil pointed, Helga’s eyes widened. “Yar!” she whispered. A ring of keys hung on the wall about twenty feet inside the iron-bar gate.
“I wish we could get them,” Emil breathed, “but they’re too far away. I can’t see anything we could use to reach that far.”
“We don’t need to reach,” Helga replied. “What about those two wee Sharkict Pups? They might be small enough to slip between those bars.”
“Those little trouble-makers? Are you serious?” Emil said, astonished. “Bem’s had to work hard to keep them with the group. They’re always going off some other direction. You’re going to send them inside Tilk Duraow?”
“It will be all right, I promise,” Helga replied.
Emil still looked dubious, but changed the subject. “Once you get the keys, would you enter the fortress here? We’re on the level where the slaves are held.”
“No,” Helga replied. “It’s too risky to go in here—better stay with the plan and enter from the rear. Less likely we’ll run into guards that away. And, besides, we need to get these desperate beasts we’ve already got to safety. First, we get everyone to the Offaluvia and on their way, then Christer and I will do our thing. At that point, those keys may come in handy.”
“All right,” Emil said. “I’ll go back and bring a wee beast to see if she can fit between the bars.”
“Bring them both,” Helga said. “They’re small enough to slip through the bars, but they’re also too short to reach the keys. It will take both to do that. One can help the other boost up to reach them.”