by P D Dennison
They crept as close as they could and off to the east about twenty yards into the trees. A slight breeze had come up. It rustled the trees and muffled the sounds of their passage. The thick of the wood about them also helped them gain a very close vantage point without being seen. Postgaar examined the bridge as best he could in the dark.
“I think our best route over, is under it.” He said.
Rostioff and Kaldrinn both looked at him waiting for something much more clever to come out of his mouth as they didn’t yet see his plan for what he’d intended.
“We can secure ourselves under the walkway with ropes and make our way across the underside. There are plenty of cross beams for footing as well as handholds. We are far less likely to be seen under there than if we try and fight our way through the guards at each end while not being spotted by passing patrols.”
“And just how do you propose we get under there?” Kaldrinn asked doubtfully.
“Ye’ could climb along the cliff face and fasten the end of a length of rope. Then we could swing down and climb up.”
Kaldrinn rubbed his chin and looked down at the cliff side and then out to the bridge beyond. It had become quite dark, but he could see enough footholds and handholds along the way that he believed he could probably make it. The cliff face was slick with algae and moss from the mist of the falls. The dwarf would have had a great deal of trouble if he had to traverse it, but his idea spared him that.
“What about the second man?” asked Rostioff.
“What second man? What are you asking?” returned Postgaar.
“Well, one of us swings out under the bridge and scurries up the rope, right?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“What about the second fellow? How is he to get hold of the rope again once it’s way over there?” He pointed out to the vast dark expanse of the chasm beneath the bridge.
Postgaar stroked his great beard, brow furrowed for a second and came back with an answer.
“We’ll simply have to go together,” came his solution.
“I don’t think so,” said Rostioff, shaking his head and crossing his arms in protest. “You barely made it down that cliff in the fog and that was a relatively easy climb compared to this. I don’t fancy clinging to a rope midair above that chasm with you hanging from my shanks! We’ll both surely fall!” He had his arms crossed and he shook his head resolutely.
“Look, it’s the only way and his plan isn’t half bad. Between the three of us, we have more than enough rope. We’ll tie you both off well before I go across to the bridge and then you won’t have to hold on; you’ll be tied into a makeshift sort of a harness. All you’ll have to do is ensure you jump clear of the cliff face. There will be some swinging about, but if the two of you can manage to keep your mouths shut, I think that’ll be the worst of it all,” said Kaldrinn.
Postgaar and Kaldrinn both looked to Rostioff for approval of their daring plan.
“Fine, we’ll do it, but I’m only doing this for the well being of the people of Shaarn. I don’t fancy being tied to a clumsy dwarf and dangling over a chasm in the dark as a nice little floating target for goblin arrows and spears. No shouting now, Postgaar! You have a nasty habit of speaking your mind in these situations and it could get us into a great deal of trouble,” said Rostioff.
“It seems a habit ye’ve adopted yourself,” the dwarf rebutted in a somewhat hushed and muffled tone as he unravelled his rope.
“What was that?” asked Rostioff pointedly.
“Nothing. Let’s get this rope in order, shall we?” Postgaar handed him an end and began tying little knots in the length of it that could be used to hoist themselves up.
All three began to work the ropes and before long, they had themselves all tied in and Kaldrinn ready to make the climb. He started down the cliff face slowly. It grew much darker inside the chasm than above and he had some trouble seeing the foot and handholds he’d spied out for himself. It took a couple of minutes and finally his eyes began to adjust to the near pitch black. The rushing of the falls and the river below echoing up through the narrow rocky canyon made the only sounds he could hear. Kaldrinn made his way slowly and mechanically along the cliff face, making it look quite easy and leaving the other two with the impression they could have quite easily made the journey themselves.
He neared the underside of the bridge when one of his footholds gave out quite unexpectedly. A look of shock and surprise overcame him as he glanced back up at his little company and fell backward off the cliff face.
“Gobsmack,” whispered Postgaar. Thinking quickly, he ran back around one of the nearby Rowenwoods and braced his foot on the tree. Rostioff, not being as stout and adventurous in nature as Postgaar, took a second longer to process what had happened and for it to sink in what Postgaar attempted to do. Rostioff sat slack jawed in shock momentarily.
“Move, wizard. Move,” whispered Postgaar as he braced for the impact of Kaldrinn on the end of the rope. He was quite small and although strong for a dwarf, Kaldrinn was a fair sized man. All he had to help him was a slack jawed city wizard.
Rostioff began to scramble for the tree thinking he’d do exactly as Postgaar had, but it was too late. Kaldrinn found the end of the rope and it snapped tight around Rostioff’s waist wrenching him back toward the cliff’s edge violently. He managed to roll over and grab hold of a Rowenroot, which temporarily stopped his tumble over the edge. He desperately fought the urge to cry out as the rope tightened on him.
Kaldrinn said nothing. They didn’t know if he was alive or dead down there. Alive and keeping quiet in spite of his dislocated hip, he’d only just tied the rope round his waist for the crossing. He’d never thought he’d be dependent on it to save his life. He dangled there in great pain trying to remember how well he’d tied the knot. He righted himself, looking up. So far they had not alerted the goblin guards on the bridge. Rostioff peered over the edge at him to see Kaldrinn wave up at him, signalling that he’d survived the fall.
Rostioff turned his head back to Postgaar, who was sweating and struggling something awful at the tree he’d managed to get the rope around.
“He’s alive, Postgaar. He’s alive.”
Postgaar nodded and motioned with his head for the wizard to come over and help. Rostioff struggled to get to the dwarf with Kaldrinn’s weight on the rope, but he slowly scampered over to the tree and managed to brace himself.
“Untie yerself’, lad, and tie off that rope to the tree here so young Kaldrinn can climb up. Be quick about it, I’m losin’ me grip.”
Rostioff nodded and quickly untied himself. He refastened the rope to the tree as best he could and gave it a yank to test it. It would hold. He ran back over to the cliff face and motioned for Kaldrinn to climb back up. It took him several minutes to make the climb with his injured hip. He more or less had to pull himself up the rope hand over hand with only the use of one leg to steady him as he went. Postgaar and Rostioff each grabbed a hand and pulled him over the ledge.
Rostioff being quite well versed in the healing arts could see in an instant what had happened to the poor fellow. His leg hung limp at the end of his torso in quite an unpleasant and painful fashion. Kaldrinn grunted and sweated heavily at the pain now that he had more time to think about it and no longer seemed concerned with falling to his death.
Without even a moment’s consideration, Rostioff pulled out the Dragon Orb and began his incantation. The orb lit up blue, illuminating the dark shrubs about them with a pale glow. Postgaar jumped to his feet to shield the light of the orb from the direction of the bridge and the waiting goblin sentries and patrols. He watched in amazement as the orb and then Rostioff’s hands came alive with the crackling mystic energy. Rostioff held the orb close to Kaldrinn’s hip and let the charge flow from the artifact into the man’s leg. The leg righted itself and the bone began to stitch. Kaldrinn bit down on a stick to stop himself from screaming at the pain. Then finally the hip and leg began to move together. The hip po
pped right back into place with a very distinct sucking and popping sound and Kaldrinn began to shake violently from the pain before passing out completely.
When he came to, Kaldrinn lay on a bedroll the other two had set out for him. They sat on watch, sipping water from their skins. They remained in position overlooking the chasm and near the bridge. Kaldrinn rose to his feet slowly to test the leg. To his astonishment, it felt as good as new.
“How do you feel?” inquired Rostioff.
“Right as rain.” whispered Kaldrinn, wiggling his hip and thumbing at the hole in his pants where he had seen his dislocated hip earlier.
“Let’s get back at it,” he said as he tied the rope back to his waist, this time creating a makeshift harness so if he slipped again, he wouldn’t lose a hip.
Postgaar and Rostioff looked at each other and shrugged then began to retie themselves as well. They had figured a fright and injury like that would’ve broken Kaldrinn’s spirit and they’d be walking to the east the next morning, but he seemed as eager as ever to get on with the plan.
Kaldrinn attempted the climb much more slowly testing each hand and foothold carefully before placing any weight on it. In spite of his added care, it didn’t take him nearly as long as the other two would have thought to make his away along the cliff face. Before they knew it, he hung upside down under the far side of the bridge. He still had slack in the rope and could have gone further. When his company began swinging out over the chasm, they might well have swung right across and been dashed into unconsciousness on the rocks of the far cliff face. He settled for a little less than half way, tied the rope off and signalled them to make their descent. They agreed Rostioff would jump and then Postgaar would jump an instant after as they had about five feet of rope between them to keep from banging into each other midair when they began to swing.
Rostioff took a step back and leapt down into the darkness. Postgaar leapt immediately after him, but Rostioff’s weight still more or less pulled Postgaar into the chasm rather than him having jumped of his own accord. They spun and swung through the air. Neither able to grab hold of the rope yet. They’d lost all sense of direction as they swung downward toward the blackened pitch of the valley, swallowed in darkness.
As they reached the bottom of the rope and their weight shifted, the bridge let out a couple of hefty creaks and cracks, which alerted the guards at either end and they both headed out to see if there were someone lurking. Of course there was not, but it was certainly carrying on as if three men jumped up and down on the freshly laid timbers. Kaldrinn heard their approaching footsteps and held his breath to keep as quiet as possible. They muttered and grumbled back and forth at one another for a moment, but then ambled back to their posts at either end. The rope still swung some but wiggled a bit signalling to Kaldrinn that his company climbed up out of the dark below. Not but a moment passed before Rostioff’s face rose out of the gloom beneath as he struggled to gain the rope. It took them both some time, but they made it up into the support timbers under the bridge without being seen. They stopped for a moment to catch their breath and to untie themselves from the ropes before they scurried over to the other side.
Not one of the three of them had thought about how they would get topside again without the guards on this side spotting them or stumbling into a patrol. They waited several long minutes in the dark timbers unable to even discuss their options as a guard stood above and not ten feet from them. He didn’t move and Kaldrinn decided to peak out to see what he could. The guard faced out to the south watching for anyone approaching from the woods, not at all focused on the bridge. After all, two guards posted on the far side guarding entrance from the north would sound a warning if any danger approached them from behind. Without warning the other two Kaldrinn gave them a knowing look and scurried up onto the bridge above. Postgaar looked horrified and reached out for his pant leg, but Rostioff grabbed his arm and Kaldrinn disappeared above. It wasn’t but a moment later they heard the thunk of the guard’s body hit the timbers above. They saw a trickle of blood between the boards signalling them the coast, cleared. Rostioff peered up through the timbers to see the dead, lifeless eye of the goblin guard staring back down at him. He looked at Postgaar excitedly and the two of them clambered up to the topside of the bridge as quickly and quietly as they could. Kaldrinn kept watch and neither the guards on the far side nor any patrols on this side took notice of them, in spite of Postgaar’s constant grunts and under-the-breath curses.
They made for the trees and walked along the road through the thick bramble and trunks of massive Rowenwood to keep hidden in case they came upon any patrols.
It didn’t take long before they came upon the goblin workers’ camp. They were all fast asleep and a small patrol of three guards walked round the far side of the clearing. Kaldrinn caught sight of them in the moonlight and held the others back a moment until they passed into the trees out of sight again. He then hurried them along around the camp, back close to the road on the far side.
After travelling for most of the night, they found themselves in the hollow of a great valley when they finally saw the familiar grey dim light begin to filter through the canopy to the far east, signalling dawn’s approach. They decided to keep on, thinking the further they got from goblin territory, the better off they might be. They still had no idea how far they had to travel to the keep or if they were actually on the right path, but Postgaar encouraged them that through this pass and in this very valley lay the great Dragon’s Maw Keep of old.
It couldn’t have been more than an hour later that they saw the great wall of the keep rising up out of the road ahead of them in a clearing. They all broke to a slow jog in spite of their tired legs and weary minds. The keep broke before them high into the morning sky. Carrion birds circled above ominously. The red bubbling moat gurgled and plopped in front of them. The drawbridge was up and barred, but all three felt quite satisfied with themselves for having finally found the place.
Rostioff and company began to walk about examining the outer wall, the moat, and the secured drawbridge for any sign of easy entrance, but found none.
“Well, Manya, Turynn, and their companion must have gotten over this wall somehow,” he said scratching his head and looking for a way in.
“Give me your rope, Postgaar,” said Kaldrinn.
He held his hand out for the dwarf’s length of rope, which he gave over readily, but with warning.
“You’re not thinking of scaling that wall, are ye’, laddy?”
Postgaar walked over to the edge of the moat and tossed a clump of grass into the bubbling stinking muck and the three of them watched as it burbled and hissed. The moat swallowed it, dirt and all, in just a couple of seconds leaving only a stinking vapour behind in the air as the last remnant of what might happen to a man if he slipped into the sludge.
“Of course I mean to climb it. I’ll simply swing out and round the base to avoid losing my feet in that acrid muck. Every trial we’ve faced so far since we’ve entered these blasted eastern peaks has been solved by rope and wit and there’s no reason why this situation should be any different,” he exclaimed proudly.
With little effort he tossed his rope and climbing claw into one of the gatehouse windows on the first try, followed up with a very cocky look. He lined himself up for the run and jump, going over the scenario on his mind, looking carefully at the wall for long moments before he made his attempt, muttering things to himself inaudibly. Rostioff and Postgaar stood by, watching anxiously.
“He’ll never make it,” said Postgaar, arms crossed and quite confident this would be the last he’d ever see of the foolish young Ranger.
Rostioff gave him a nudge. Kaldrinn shot Postgaar a look of frustration and anger for the comment, brow furrowed and eyes piercing the dwarf. He pulled on his gloves a wee bit tighter and then spat into them, rubbing it in to keep the leather cool for his coming acrobatics. He looked back to his company one last time and gave them a knowing smile and a wink bef
ore he set off running at a right angle to the wall. He left the ground, swung around the wall gracefully and even managed to gain a few feet of rope as the swing came back in toward the wall, which ensured he would come down well above the moat when he landed. He did not come down lightly on his toes against the great stone wall as he’d planned, but the rope began to turn on him and he came fully against the wall with the back of his head and torso, winding himself right up. His head smacked into the stone and he slid down a couple of feet. Both Postgaar and Rostioff went wide-eyed as they watched him nearly fall into unconsciousness and slip into the bubbling rot waiting now only inches below his dangling toes.
Kaldrinn opened his eyes and saw them standing across the moat. Rostioff yelled something at him, but his head rung fiercely and he paid no attention. He rolled himself over and began to ascend the rope until he reached the window, then crawled inside. His foot burned with pain. He’d been in shock from the collision with the wall and hadn’t noticed that a bubble of acid from the moat had jumped up and bit the toe of his boot. It now worked on the flesh of his toes. He felt such terrible pain for something as small as a couple of toes and he had a great deal of trouble focusing on the gate mechanisms, but somehow managed to get the bridge lowered and his company trotted over the moat to safety.
Rostioff entered the gatehouse immediately to tend to Kaldrinn’s foot and knew if he didn’t get to the man in time, there wouldn’t be much left to heal. Kaldrinn was swabbing his foot with a bit of cloth from his shirt, but to no use. The acid had worked its way through the flesh and he now bled profusely from the wound as it went to work on his big and second toes. From his robe, Rostioff produced a vial and dumped it over the wound and the burning stopped in a fizzle. He then said a quiet incantation over Kaldrinn’s foot and the pain ceased. He once again pulled out the orb from beneath his robes and used its awesome power to reform poor Kaldrinn’s now missing toe. Where the big toe should have been there was nothing but bone and the second toe had been all but dissolved save a small stump of bone the acid had not had a chance to eat through. Within moments, the toes had returned to their former state with only minor scarring due to the quick work of Rostioff and his Dragon Orb. Kaldrinn thanked him once again for his service. Postgaar had stuck a bit of hide inside the poor fellows boot and handed it back to him smiling.