Even though he still struggled to keep his head above water bobbing like a tiny cork in the raging current, Daniel was heartened by the growing light as the mouth of the cave approached.
The sound of the current was changing. Daniel was sure the roar of the river was getting louder. He peered ahead and realized too late why the river now made a deafening roar.
Waterfall!
Daniel tried for the edge of the river to no avail. The current was too strong, and he was already there. Daniel could see the mist thrown up from the crashing water. One moment he plunged into it, then he was shot out into the moist air and fell along the path of the crashing river.
Daniel had the sense this time to take a massive gulp of air before hitting the pool at the base of the waterfall. He tumbled end over end underwater like a rag in a washing machine. Then mercifully, the undertow spit him out, and Daniel surfaced and swam to the rocky shore. Barely able to lift his limbs, he collapsed.
Daniel finally lifted his weary head. Albright! The professor crawled to his feet and peered up the waterfall. “Albright!” He attempted to shout over the roar of the waterfall. Then he saw Albright shoot over the waterfall into space and fall arms and legs all akimbo. The old man hit with a smack and sunk into the churning foam at the base of the waterfall.
Still exhausted, Daniel dove in and with a few labored strokes came to the center of the pool. Albright surfaced facedown in the water. Daniel grabbed him and drug him to shore.
Albright was unconscious. Daniel rolled him onto his side.
“No! Albright! Come back to me.” Daniel started CPR. Between breaths praying, “Dear God, let him live.”
Another breath and then Albright spit out a massive amount of water and with a raspy suck filled his lungs with air.
“Thank God!” Daniel laughed.
The frail Albright opened his eyes, and seeing Daniel gave a weak smile.
“Dr. Colson, Let’s not do that again,”the old man muttered.
Daniel smiled and then froze as he heard the crunch of boots on gravel behind him.
He turned but not before the pommel of a sword cracked the back of his head, and he pitched forward onto his friend unconscious.
Chapter 86
Deacon slowly woke from a disturbing dream that his shoulders were on fire. Flames were shooting from his rotator cuffs. He raised his head and shook away the cobwebs. His nightmare now made sense. His arms were contorted over his head, still shackled to the rock wall of the cell somewhere in Darcon’s fortress, along with John and Ellie.
After being captured by Darcon’s forces John and Deacon were hoisted in a giant rope net and flown to the fortress. They made one stop to add another passenger, who was thrown into the net with them. The body flopped like a rag-doll among them. It was Ellie who Deacon feared was dead at first. She had a nice bump on her head and came too later in their uncomfortable flight.
As they winged near to Darcon’s fortress, Deacon’s heart fell as his fears were realized. Campfires dotted the plane surrounding the stone fortress. The shouting of men and the cry of beasts reached his ears. They were amassing an army prepared for an assault. How were they to fight such unrelenting, oppressive darkness?
The prison door opened with a rusted groan. Shadow warriors stepped through and began unshackling each prisoner.
Ellie rubbed her wrists, glad to be free of the iron manacles. Deacon stretched his shoulders and shot a quick glance at John. He quickly summed up the situation and nodded. Worth a try.
Deacon rushed the first guard and slammed him into the wall, then received a brutal punch to the kidneys from the other guard. John started to move, but the rest of the squad thrust their spears forward, making all thought of further resistance futile.
Chapter 87
Deacon, Ellie, and John shared a nervous glance as the squad of shadow warriors marched them through the labyrinthine halls. Deacon rubbed his back, where he had received the blow to his kidneys.
They reached heavy wood-and-iron doors. The shadow guards on either side of these doors snapped to attention, then pulled the big doors open.
Nasty spears prodded the three prisoners into a vast chamber. At the center of the hall, at the head of a large ornate table, sat Darcon. Torchlight played across his cloak; that same light caused shadows to stretch and waver at the edge of the darkness.
“Ah,” Darcon said, standing. “The rest of my guests have arrived. Welcome.”
The trio stopped stiffly at the edge of the chamber but was then pushed forward.
Deacon noticed that Darcon was not alone.
Daniel Colson stood uncomfortably. He was utterly out of place. He was tall and thin, with a slight stoop to the shoulders, and quite-unusual clothing. Next to Daniel stood Albright. Deacon wondered how this fragile old man with matted hair and dressed in rags could be involved.
The trio was escorted to the table, which contained a glutton’s pile of cooked meats, whole birds, fruits, and vegetables.
The shadow warriors moved back into assigned niches in the surrounding walls and stood at attention like dark statues.
Darcon turned to his guests, and with a flourish, said, “Please, be seated!”
Daniel and Albright moved stiffly to the foot of the table and sat. The others did not accept the “hospitality” so quickly.
“We will starve before we sit with you!” Ellie spat.
“Now is that any way to talk to your host?” Darcon replied with a syrupy smile. Then said, “Please leave your dying to me. Now sit down.”
Six shadow warriors came forward and forced the three into the remaining chairs.
Darcon turned to Daniel and Albright.
“Professors, these are the leaders of the rebellion. They have caused dissension in my kingdom for years; they don’t appreciate my generosity the way you do.” As the three riders considered him, Daniel squirmed uncomfortably in his chair. Albright just glared at Darcon, his eyes fiery with rage.
“In fact,” Darcon continued, “they would overthrow my kingdom if they could.”
“Excuse me,” interrupted Ellie. “Whose kingdom?”
“Silence, woman!” Darcon snapped. He wasn’t accustomed to such impertinence.
Deacon stood; his chair scraped harshly on the stone floor. “State your business, Darcon!” All six shadow warriors came to alert and moved forward.
John added wryly, “For we are eager to return to those generous accommodations you’ve afforded us.”
Daniel stood slowly, ignoring Albright’s attempt to stop him, he interrupted: “Excuse me, but it seems we are the ones who ought to retire. It’s obvious you all have matters to discuss —important matters with which we are not involved.”
“Oh, you’re involved,” John said under his breath.
Darcon grinned slyly at Daniel. “More than you know... but we will get to that. Now everyone, sit down! You people are giving me indigestion.”
With shadow warriors now having spears at the necks of Ellie and John, Deacon reluctantly sat.
“That’s better,” Darcon said to Deacon. “As you are aware, I now know where your first stronghold is, and it is only a matter of time before I discover the rest and annihilate your resistance. You are their leader and, if you surrender to me now, you will save your people’s lives, as well as your own.”
Deacon’s smoldering gaze seemed aimed at burning a hole right through this host.
Meanwhile, John responded, “You do not seriously believe we’re naïve enough to trust you, do you? And all our people know the price of freedom, as do we. You have played your cards, and the others will not be caught unaware.”
“That is spoken confidently for one who will soon be a slave. But your leader sits silent.” He turned to Deacon. “Well?”
“No. There is no way in the underworld that I will reveal the strongholds.” Deacon stated with finality.
Darcon sighed and smiled tightly. “If you insist. Then you are to be executed in the morning. An
d after that, we will proceed to obliterate the rest of your little resistance.” He breathed deep, then turned to Daniel and leveled his gaze at him: “Well, now that that’s settled... Professor?”
Daniel turned his gaze upon the Dark lord.
“Were you expecting someone to join you?” Darcon asked.
“What?” Daniel asked, unsure of where this was going.
“A few days ago, my men were at the portal, attempting to welcome another traveler. But they were ambushed by our friends here, who kidnapped the arriving Otherlander.”
Daniel turned to Deacon. “Is that true?”
“You believe him?” Deacon answered.
Darcon turned to Deacon with a devilish smile. “How is the boy?”
“You bastard!” Ellie shouted, unable to contain herself.
At Darcon’s nod, the nearest shadow warrior fiercely backhanded Ellie, knocking her out of her chair. Deacon and John both rocketed to their feet, but the remaining shadow warriors quickly spear-prodded them back down into their seats.
Daniel stooped to help Ellie up from the floor. As he helped her back into her chair, she whispered to him: “Thomas is safe.”
Daniel was dumbfounded by this revelation. Thomas? Thomas is here? How could he be here? How could he have followed me? What have I done?!
These thoughts were interrupted by Darcon as he shouted, “Get these savages out of my sight!”
Obedient, six of the room’s eight shadow warriors dragged John, Ellie, and Deacon backward toward the open doors. But before reaching them, Deacon vehemently shook off the guards and lasered his defiant glare to meet Darcon’s.
Darcon started to scoff, but something from deeper within him rose and stopped that. Despite his best efforts, his face involuntarily registered something other than confidence, and Deacon saw it.
The shadow guards regained control of Deacon and forced the three prisoners out of the chamber.
Yet while they were still within earshot, Daniel turned to Darcon and demanded, “Where’s my son?”
Darcon ignored Daniel. “Can you believe it? They are dead, and I offer them life, but they foolishly throw it back in my face.”
“No! You knew my son was here?!
“Oh, that. Don’t worry, my dear professor; I have everything under control.”
“That’s exactly what worries me.” And Daniel stormed toward the other three. One of the remaining shadow guards stepped to block his path, but Daniel slammed into him. Nothing was going to stop him from finding his son.
Darcon looked on, amused. “Let him go. He can do no harm. But follow him and throw him back in the cell.” He turned and leveled his gaze on Albright. “Throw them both in their cells. It looks like our professors will be with us for a while.”
Chapter 88
Daniel raced into the hall, followed closely by the guards. He saw the trio ahead, being escorted back to the prison area by the shadow warriors.
“Hey! Hold it right there! I want to talk to you.”
At Daniel’s shout, the three prisoners tried to stop and turn, but the shadow warriors prodded them on with their spears. Daniel caught up and marched alongside them.
“Where is my son?”
“Ellie told you he’s safe,” Deacon replied flatly.
Daniel glanced at Ellie, who looked to the floor.
“That’s not good enough.”
“It has to be, for now. We will not jeopardize the security of the resistance.”
Grabbing Deacon by the arm, Daniel forcefully spun him around. “Listen! My twelve-year-old son is out there, alone, in a strange land.”
Deacon leveled his cold gaze on the distraught father. “You should’ve thought of that before you left him.”
That froze Daniel in his tracks. This stranger was right. He could do nothing but stand and watch as the prisoners were marched on. The weight of the truth bore down on him like a stone monolith from Mairead Fhada.
The shadow guards from the dining chamber caught up with him. One roughly grabbed Daniel by the shoulder and turned him around—right in front of the approaching General Nawg, who leaned down and looked Daniel fiercely in the eye.
“Professor,” he hissed, “that is the last time you disrespect my master’s hospitality.”
Chapter 89
Thomas trudged through the forest. The trees reached together to the sky, forming an almost solid canopy through which only the smallest bit of moonlight shone. I guess I should be grateful, thought Thomas. Even though I can’t see, neither can anyone who might be looking for me.
He stopped and listened. Somewhere there was a rustle in the woods. It was probably a squirrel, or maybe a snake in the leaves. He shuddered at the thought.
He pushed the fear from his mind, willed it to go away, and thought only of his father waiting for him.
The forest thinned. Thomas now could see firelight flickering through the dappled leaves of the trees ahead. He slowed and crept forward from tree to tree. The sounds of shouted orders, clanging weapons, and horses and beasts reached his ears. He finally peeked out of the underbrush into the clearing. It was filled with campfires and tents. Dark men armed for battle and shadow warriors were amassing for war. And beyond the encampment loomed Darcon’s stone fortress, massive and dark against the night sky. Thomas quickly pulled back into the protective canopy of the trees.
Chapter 90
“This time I’ve got it,” Deacon said as he inserted a wire into the lock of the prison door. Ellie watched with mild curiosity.
“And… ta-da!” Deacon exclaimed. Then there was a snap. Tight-lipped, Deacon pulled the broken wire out of the lock.
He gave the handle a try. Nothing! Looking at the lock with growing anger, Deacon stood up, grabbed a wooden stool, and smashed it against the metal bars shattering it to pieces. Spent, Deacon crumpled on the floor next to Ellie in frustration.
“Ta-da?” Ellie smirked. Deacon glared at her, then his eyes suddenly filled with a fresh appreciation of her beauty. He could not let her die. He would figure something out. He would rescue them.
Ellie smiled sadly and then turned and stared out the narrow-barred window high on the wall opposite them. Beyond it, the stars were blinking beckoning them to freedom.
Chapter 91
Thomas lay on his stomach in tall grass. He had to rest for a moment. He didn’t know how long it had taken him to get this close to the fortress; he only knew he had crawled with tense, painstaking slowness, between the campfires and tents of the amassing army, in fear of the soldiers that moved here and there settling in for the night. Once he was almost stepped on by a horse being led by his master. And now, as he hid prone in the weeds closer to the fortress, he feared one of the sentries along the top of the wall would catch a glimpse of him. So now what?
He could see the castle’s entrance, about a hundred yards ahead and to his left. A muddy road led from the forest to the door, which was blocked by a giant iron gate that retracted up into the wall. He remembered his dad had called this a “portcullis.”
Thomas saw no way to scale the wall or to squeeze through the portcullis. And could he even cover the distance to the walls without being shot from the wall? He doubted it. The wall, the portcullis, the guards—it all seemed so insurmountable. He was just a boy.
“Oh God, help me,” Thomas whispered a desperate prayer, even as he laid his head on the grass in exhaustion.
Something woke him. He must have drifted off. How long had he slept? There was no way of knowing. The moon was high in the sky, hidden by wispy dark clouds. He heard something: the crack of a whip, the creaking of heavy wooden wheels on a bumpy road.
That must have been what awakened him. A fully-loaded wagon was laboriously making its way toward the fortress’s entrance. It still had about a hundred yards to go, but it would pass within a few feet of Thomas’s grassy hideout.
Meanwhile, at the fortress, the giant chain that suspended the portcullis went taut, and with a rusty groan, the portcullis
started rising into the stone wall above it.
Thomas, realizing this opportunity, now crawled rapidly toward the road. The wagon was almost to him. He looked at the open gate, then back at the cart. This might be my only chance!
Mustering what little courage he had, he quickly rose into a crouch and scrambled behind the wagon as it passed. Not bothering to check if any guards had seen him, he gently eased onto the wagon’s open back, then slipped beneath the covering tarp.
Chapter 92
Deacon, Ellie, and John sat on the cold stone floor of their cell. All were deep in thought.
“All right, all right—we could...” Then Deacon’s voice trailed off. He was out of ideas.
“The sun will be up soon,” Ellie remarked, peering out the high slit that passed for a window.
“I’ve got it!” John exclaimed.
“What?” she asked.
“You act sick... ask for some water... you have a fever.”
Ellie’s face tightened. “Me, pretend? I don’t know…”
Deacon turned to her “C’mon, dear Ellie. What have we got to lose?” She blinked at his “dear” greeting.
He was right. They had nothing to lose but their heads.
Chapter 93
Thomas peeked around a corner only to see more dark hallways dimly lit by flickering torches. He didn’t really believe he could ever make it into the fortress in the first place. Now he was inside and feared he was hopelessly lost.
Soon he would either be captured by the roving guards or die of starvation.
He had poked his head into numerous doorways and had yet to see any sign of his father, Deacon, Ellie, or John, for that matter.
OTHERLANDER: A Long Way From Home Page 14