The others hooted and roared agreement.
Lenny took a deep breath as an armored Selkie walked among them with a crate full of broken manacles to choose from. Lenny took a pair from the heap, checking first to ensure the lock was well and truly fixed to not latch. Assured, he placed the metal bracelets over his wrists as he and the others had done in Bouvetøya in a show of prisoner status. He again placed his hands inside his Selkie pocket, comforting himself with the cold feel of his twin, hidden daggers as he shuffled through the Selkie masses to find his closest allies. With Vasili dead and gone, Lenny took the former little man’s position in guarding Tom Weaver’s flank.
As Brutus continued barking orders, Jemmy T and his group of archers abandoned the rest. Their grouping headed instead for the train car hitching points. The ladders attached to their wooden sides would again allow the Selkies to climb the cars and afford them better vantage points for firing lines.
But we got no Henry now, Lenny thought, the hairs on his arms raising at what the loss of his former crewmate and the majority loss of Henry’s Leper gang might mean for the remaining Selkie survivors when they landed in New Pearlaya. So, who’s to flank the Orcs if our show don’t work this time?
When the train car brakes squealed louder, Lenny was forced to shift his weight in counteraction of the train’s sudden slow. Had it not been for the cramped quarters, Lenny gathered his larger companions would not have been so fortunate to keep their balance. Aside from Tom Weaver and Brutus, many of the others dressed in Orc armor were pressed against their fellows, dependent on one another to keep them on their feet.
“Oi!” Brutus shouted over the continued wheel screech and the other Selkies’ confusion. “Pipe down, all of you! We’re near the end, now. Steady on!”
Lenny swallowed the lump in his throat when the train finally eased in. Coming to a complete stop, the engine hissed and spat its last breath of steam. Lenny tensed when heavy footsteps scraped along the wooden platform beyond the gate of his train car. Fear tightened its stranglehold upon him for each passing second that the door remained latched. His eyes widened at the thought that the Orcs in New Pearlaya might have somehow discovered their earlier ruse. That the soldiers did not need to release the Selkie prisoners at all, and might instead put the whole wooden car to the torch. Lenny fought against the rising panic in him, the thought of being trapped inside and burning alive. He was already starting forward when the train car door slid open, revealing the face of a single Orc upon the platform.
Dressed in simple, leather garb, the Orc guard paled when the weight of the cabin door escaped his grip and slammed at the end of its rail. By his surprise and youthful face, Lenny judged the Orc as being no older than fifteen in age.
A recruit? Lenny wondered. I don’t remember the Orcs having anyone so young down here back when they loaded me and Jemmy before . . .
As he had done in Bouvetøya, Brutus wasted no time in brushing the young Orc aside to allow those inside the train car to exit. Among the first of those to reach the platform, Lenny scouted what little he could see beyond the lip of his Selkie hood.
Unlike before in New Pearlaya, when he had been brought down among a chain gang of other Selkie prisoners, Lenny heard no cracking whips, nor saw any other chain gangs now. Of Selkies, he estimated there were near a thousand locked in cages to await their own boarding of the Sailfish train and with their shipment south to follow. But of Orc soldiers and taskmasters, Lenny counted less than a dozen. All of them appeared as young and curious as the recruit who had let the Selkies out of the train too.
Though he could barely hear it, the cavernous train station being so far beneath the city, Lenny’s ears pricked at the constant, distant stream of echoed trumpets sounding too from somewhere in the above.
Something’s wrong here, Lenny thought, the hairs on his neck rising at the dim echoes beyond the underground station.
The remaining curious Orc recruits left their charges of the Selkie cages to come and meet with the seeming soldiers of the Painted Guard that exited the train with prisoners of their own.
Brutus met them all with the same brazen act he had performed for the real soldiers in Bouvetøya. “Oi! Who’s in charge here?”
“If you please, sir,” said the recruit who had let them out. “W-We don’t know, sir.”
Brutus grabbed the boy by the tunic and pulled him close. “What do you mean you don’t know?” he growled. “You’re a soldier, aren’t you?”
“No, sir,” said the Orc boy. “We’ve not even been taken in to train for the Painted Guard yet, sir.”
“What are you doing here guarding these prisoners, then, lad?” Brutus asked, keeping the collective attention of the confused recruits as Tom Weaver and the other Selkies dressed in Painted Guard armor surrounded the young Orcs. “Where’s the real soldiers, eh? Why aren’t they here to keep on with the king’s command to sort this rabble and send them on south?”
The young Orc shrunk under his questioning. “They’re out searching the city with all the rest of the Painted Guard and Violovar, sir.”
“Searching?” Brutus asked. “For what?”
“Assassins, sir,” said the Orc. “The ones who killed the king and took the princess too.”
Brutus grabbed the boy by the arm and shook him. “Say that again . . .”
“The king, sir. He’s been killed, or so the rumors say. The queen and the princess taken too. The whole city is searching for the ones stolen away and the king’s assassins too.”
The Merrow king is dead? Lenny thought, glancing to his companions at the shuffled sound of their armor clanking as they looked to one another in shared disbelief. And Sydney and the queen taken too?
Brutus held his grip steady upon the Orc teen. “If the king is dead, who’re these assassins what killed him then, lad? What do the others say to that?”
“It were a half-breed that done him in, most say. Or a number of them, rather. The Blackfin called all the soldiers in the city to search out the killers and bring them to justice, sir. They called us young ones here to watch over these whilst the rest of the real soldiers are out.” He jerked his thumb toward those in the cages lining the walls. “They told us these caged Selkies can’t go nowhere, so they’re no trouble for us to watch over, sir. We’re just meant to keep the watch and hold them here.”
“Aye,” said Brutus, his tone laced with anger. “You’re right about that, my lad. Them Selkies aren’t going nowhere . . .” He pulled the Orc boy close. “But then neither are you lot now.”
Lenny pounced forward with all the other free Selkies when Brutus gave a nodding signal to those already surrounding the young Orcs.
The Selkies had each of the bewildered Orc teens brought to their knees in a matter of seconds. Some of the rougher Selkie sort were already bringing their blades to the young Orcs’ throats when Tom Weaver called them off.
“Spare them,” he shouted them down with words and a disarming glare. “They’re too young to know what they’re doing and just following orders, besides.” When the others listened, Tom jerked his head toward the empty train car they had abandoned. “Lock these Orcs in with the rest of those we brought with us until we figure out what to do with them.”
Lenny eased his grip upon his hidden blades as his Selkie allies in Painted Guard armor led the bewildered Orc recruits away to lock them inside the hostage train car with the other Orcs they had brought up from Bouvetøya.
Brutus snorted. “Might be young, but those Orcs know well enough what they’re up to, Tommy,” he argued. “Enough to know what fate awaits all those who board the train and are sent south.”
“Argue that later,” Lenny piped up. “Sounds like we got bigger problems to figure out now. If what the Orc said is true, then how are we supposed to help all these on board and all the rest over there in cages to get up and out of here with the city swarming with soldiers?”
“Could just let them all out,” said Brutus. “Every man for himself. As I said before, all of u
s fly out of here like rats coming up out of the sewers. We’ve enough numbers to give them and their catcher gangs fits for weeks now, especially if they’re all on about finding the king’s assassin and looking for the lost queen and princess too.”
“Maybe,” said Tom. “Or maybe with the king dead, then the Blackfin just orders all Selkie runners killed in the streets to save him time and effort. From the stories I’ve heard of him, he’ll slay our kind outright now and sort the rest later.”
Brutus scoffed. “Mayhap that’s what we should do with his kind now then, Tommy.” He gave a nod toward the train cars holding the hostage Orc soldiers from Bouvetøya. “Them recruits might be young, but they’ll be soldiers in the Blackfin’s armies one day. Mark my words. And the rest of those we brought back with us will kill us slow if their brothers-in-arms find us now.”
“We’re not killing them in cold-blood,” said Tom. “Not yet, anyway. If the true Painted Guard come down here, you can kill those hostage soldiers then, Brutus. Until that happens, we wait.”
“For what?” Brutus asked. “We’re back in the capital now, Tommy. Trapped right in the belly of the beast, so we are. I say we cut bait and run while we can. All of us take to the streets and every man for himself from here on out.”
“No . . .” said Lenny, his father’s teachings and his own experiences on the streets of New Pearlaya warning against such talk. “It’ll just lead me more slaughter for our kind and most of us ending up as slaves again.”
“Then what, Dolan? Eh?” Brutus asked. “You got a plan for these thousands we brung with us and the rest waiting on release here now?”
Lenny did not have an immediate answer for him. Instead, he searched his memory for the teachings of his father, a hallmark mantra of Declan Dolan coming to the forefront of his mind.
Move, Len . . . Declan’s whispered teachings called within him. Move or die.
Lenny snorted at the memory. Yeah, Pop, he wished he could argue with his father then. But you also always taught me that a catcher watches . . . waits in the shadows. So, which is it? Move, or wait?
The ghost of Declan Dolan had no answer for him there.
Lenny sighed, his mind frantic for an answer, his gaze scouting the faces of all those looking to him for an answer of Brutus’s question. He stared at the prisoners in their cages, their dirtied faces lined with more questions too at those who seemed of their kind and yet not. Hearing movement behind him, Lenny glanced back to see Jemmy T and his archers climbing down from atop the train car with no further threat in sight to thwart the Selkie cause.
Lenny grimaced then, the shadows of an idea formulating in his mind as he turned back to Brutus. “You’re right, pal. We’re right in the belly of the beast down here,” Lenny motioned to the cavernous, open area around them as he stepped forward to look up at Brutus. “And, for now, us Selkies own it.” He knocked his knuckles against Brutus’s armor. “Aye, and all of us watched over by the Painted Guard.”
Brutus frowned. “Don’t suppose that’ll last very long if the real Painted Guard come down, Dolan.”
“No,” said Lenny. “But, with the king dead, the Blackfin and his Orcs got bigger fish to catch. A place like this station might last the rest of us long enough to get by and help us to sneak out as many as we can.”
“Out, you say?” Brutus asked.
“Aye,” said Lenny. “Out. Above. Take your pick.”
Brutus snorted. “Mean to smuggle them all the way to the surface, then?”
Lenny nodded.
Brutus chuckled. “And how do you figure that tall order, little man? Them streets be crawling with Orcs, or so the boy said.”
Lenny glanced back at one of his father’s oldest friends. “Jemmy, you said this is your city, right?”
“Aye, little brudda,” he answered, his smile dawning in eager show. “And She be waiting on Jemmy T, mon. Aye, waiting to welcome Jemmy T back with open arms, yeah?”
Lenny nodded. “Think you and your friends around the city could figure out what to do with all of these we brought back? Where we could hide them if need be and get them out?”
“Some, but not all, little brudda.” Jemmy T clucked his tongue. “Aye, and Jemmy T can’t be helping them all the way from down here, yeah? We got to be going up, mon . . . aye, seeing what friends Jemmy T and my little brudda still have, eh?”
Lenny’s brow furrowed. “You want me to go topside with ya?”
“Aye, brudda,” said Jemmy T. “Who else but Lenny Dolan, mon? Ya been going out with Edmund on all them deliveries for Jemmy T before, yeah? Knowing all de stops, little brudda. We cover more ground and save time by splitting up to see what friends we still got hiding ‘round the city, yeah?”
Brutus bristled at the plan. “And what happens to the rest of us down here if you lads get nicked, eh?”
“Or what if we were already caught?” Lenny said, casting his eyes on Tom Weaver and his Painted Guard armor. “It’d make it easier to get around the city with an Orc escort, eh, Tommy?”
Tom Weaver sighed. “Told you before, Dolan. I mean to slip off and find my boy.”
“I know ya did, but what about all these here?” Lenny motioned toward those in cages, some of them families gathered together at the bars to look out on the other Selkie proceedings. “You just gonna leave them behind to slaughter?”
Tom frowned. “You can’t save them all, Dolan.”
I can try. Lenny thought to himself. For a moment, he considered voicing his argument too. The look in Tom Weaver’s eyes warned against it. “Just get me topside into the city, then,” said Lenny, continuing even as Tom gave him a disgruntled look. “You’re going up either way, Tommy. At least help me get back to one of Jemmy T’s safehouses and see what his friends can do to find a place for as many of these down here as we can before the Blackfin and his Orcs catch on. Might be Jemmy’s friends can tell you the best way to get outta the city right now too.”
Tom Weaver’s cheeks pinched in consideration of the offer. “All right, then,” he said finally. “But only to get us to a safe-house. Then, I’m gone and you’re all on your own again.”
“Fair enough,” said Lenny, remembering how he had once voiced something similar to Edmund when he was first brought into the city.
“Well, it’s fair enough for me, lads,” said Brutus. “Just what’re the rest of us to do whilst you lot run around the city searching for answers? Wait here on the slaughter to come to us, is it?”
Lenny shook his head. “If any Orcs come down here to check on slaves, it’ll be more like them coming into your slaughterhouse, Brutus . . . and who better to handle them, huh?”
Brutus grinned at that. “Fair enough, then,” he said, waving a beefy finger in Lenny’s direction. “Just see as you boys don’t be taking too long and forget about us down here, Dolan. ‘Cause if them Orcs up there are tracking for some half-breed assassins, then it means they’re not out on the lookout for our sort.” His eyes flashed. “And all that means ol’ Brutus the Brave and his lads can go hunting for those what put us in chains in the first place.”
“All right, then,” said Lenny, looking to Jemmy T and Tom Weaver too. “You guys ready or what?”
Tom Weaver nodded. “Ready when you are, Dolan.”
“Aye, let’s be going, little brudda,” said Jemmy T, casting his crossbow aside and starting for the rickety wooden platforms leading away from the train and then up and out of the cavern. “The city be calling, mon. Aye, She be missing and singing Jemmy T home to be back with Her again, yeah!”
Lenny shared a look with Tom Weaver, then both headed out in following the former tavern owner beyond the train station misery. With Tom walking between them in a seeming show of a Painted Guard escorting Selkie prisoners, the trio climbed the rickety, slick wooden platforms. For every step taken, Lenny’s ears rang with the increasing noise of shouted orders, screams, and sounding trumpets. When they reached the streets of New Pearlaya, Lenny started to second-guess his plan. Sca
nning the smokestack trails burning throughout the city, the echoed march of armored footfalls, the defiant screams of those being questioned and whose homes were searched, all that lay before Lenny Dolan was chaos and confusion.
All the while, he remembered the lessons that Edmund and Henry Boucher had both taught him when chaos reigned in Crayfish Cavern during the Blackfin’s initial attack. Moreso, what the confusion and chaos had allowed him to do and who it helped him save. Where there’s chaos, there’s opportunity too. Lenny thought as he emerged out the hole leading toward Selkie doom.
No sooner than they were up and out of the tunnel, Jemmy T quickly parted from their company to venture on alone, vanishing down an ensuing darkened alley.
Lenny too stepped free of the train tunnel’s enveloping shadow and with Tom Weaver at his side.
Tom’s grip tightened on Lenny’s arm, but remained loose enough to allow Lenny guide him. “All right, Dolan,” the elder Weaver’s voice was broken through the visor that masked his identity and Selkie nature. “Where do we go from here?”
“Follow me, Tommy,” said Lenny, leading in the opposition direction of Jemmy T, bound for Anchor Alley and the Merrow section of the city. “I’ll show ya the way.”
34
SYDNEY
Sydney followed Quill through the meandering maze of Nautilus tunnels. The pace he led her on had Sydney clutching at her sides, the feel of it like a dagger in her ribs. “St-Stop,” she said, her head swooning as she stumbled with exhaustion and lack of nourishment. “I have to stop.”
“We cannot, child,” he said, kneeling beside her. “Despite the Blackfin’s words, his seawolves will soon follow and hunt for us. We must be long gone from this city before they scent us out.”
Sydney nodded, his words reminding her of when his sister had once warned her of the same. Tears brimmed in her eyes at the memory of all that came after. “Yvla . . .” she wept. “She’s dead.”
Quill’s jaw clenched. After a deep sigh, he nodded. “She and your mother both would be glad to know you survived. That you have been strong and brave all this time in the face of your enemies.”
Salt Storm: The Salted Series: Episodes #31-35 Page 51