by Emmet Moss
Eventually, they reached a crack in the rock wall that opened up to the fresh outdoor air of that spring night. The incredible sense of freedom they felt as they broke the surface was overwhelming.
“How did you manage to find us?” Leoric asked. “No one finds Shalo’k.”
“I tracked them on the night you were all captured. I don’t believe they would ever consider the notion within the realm of possibility,” Auric said, quite befuddled. “The goblins never really made a secret of where they were taking you. I knew the direction and headed your way,” Auric finished with a shrug. Digging into his backpack, he pulled out a large loaf of bread.
“Compliments of Cara,” he grinned.
“How is she?” Angvald inquired.
Finn sulked as he answered. “Her leg’s broken and her ribs are definitely bruised…”
“The baby?” Benoit croaked, the question lingering almost too long before anyone spoke.
“We don’t know just yet,” Auric replied sadly. “She’s a strong woman, and the baby is Drake’s. That in itself may give her the strength to recover, but we cannot assume the will of the gods.”
Biting his tongue, Leoric kept silent at the mention of such superstitions. Now is not the time, he thought. Guiding the conversation back to Auric, he asked. “So, it has been three days then?”
“Yes. I noted your location and immediately returned to the camp. After speaking with Cara, Finn, and Kieri, we made the decision to return and attempt a rescue. Captain Callum made it all possible,” Auric explained.
“Don’t listen to Auric’s ramblings,” Finn acknowledged with a slight grin. “He gives himself too little credit. I’ve seen a lot of men fight, but Auric dismantled the first two guards with remarkable skill.”
“I think our Captain exaggerates,” Auric said, attempting to deflect the praise.
The officer from Kelamyre shook his head. “Nonsense, Auric, I know what I saw. I carry the blade of one of those bastards only because Auric didn’t shatter it.”
“And the guardroom?” Leoric questioned further, amazed by the story so far.
“That one I did have had a hand in,” Finn replied with pride. “They had no idea we were there, let alone would they ever have expected us. We killed two before the others could react and… well, you’ve seen the outcome,” the soldier finished.
“There were only six guards?” Angvald said incredulously.
“Aye, six of the savages guarding over fifty,” Auric nodded. “What need is there to guard those unable to run, even if they tried? We saw some of the other men being held below. Many have lost the will to live, but we opened their cells nonetheless.”
Recalling the horrific dead eyes of the miners consumed by despair, Leoric shuddered.
The mine wasn’t as far away from the prisoner camp as Leoric remembered. The night of his capture, with all the worry of his impending fate, had clouded his mind, and he had been unable to judge the distance accurately. In less time than he expected, they came jogging into the open courtyard near the homestead. They approached without the need for stealth, as Finn had already informed them that the usual trio of guards had already been overpowered by the men under his command.
Cara stood stoically in the courtyard with one leg splinted. Leoric wasted no time in discovering the whereabouts of the woman he loved. After a quick embrace, Auric disappeared to retrieve their supplies and equipment while Finn slipped into the old farm house. Benoit accepted another large mug of water, his chest heaving as his short breaths came in ragged gasps.
Leoric drank quietly and then turned to face Cara. The look of sadness she wore was confirmation that she knew what he was about to ask.
“Where is she?” he asked apprehensively.
Cara averted her eyes. “Joram took her. We tried to protect her, and she fought him off for days, but he would hear none of it last night. The murderous look on his face was terrible… Leoric, he’s gone completely mad.”
“I asked where she was,” Leoric repeated, this time with an edge to the words.
Cara stammered, “Last night, they took her by force. We heard screams from his house, but haven’t seen her since,” she trembled as she spoke. “I’m sorry, Leo, we tried to help her.”
Leoric moved forward and held the shaking woman. “It’s not your fault, Cara. This is that bastard Joram’s doing and it’s time I set things right.”
“No! You must leave now before you lose any more time. The goblins won’t be kept in the dark about your escape for much longer!” Cara pleaded.
“I must see Kieri first,” Leoric replied defiantly as he started across the compound, his determined strides taking him towards the small house belonging to the traitor.
As he closed the distance, the rage that had built up over the past few months threatened to erupt from his very being. Any nervousness and fear he may have previously felt regarding the long awaited confrontation with Joram had evaporated. Shaking with fury, Leoric tightened his fingers into rigid fists and approached the wooden door.
He did not bother to knock.
Throwing open the door, he charged inside without any hesitation. He couldn’t believe the scene there before him. Kieri’s bound and gagged figure was securely fastened to a beam in the front room. Her head slumped forward, and even in the low light, he could see dark bruises adorning her body.
His blood boiled as he spotted the reason for his outrage, Joram, sitting in a chair by the crackling fire. The man held a haunch of meat in one hand, a flagon of ale in the other. As Leoric stepped inside, a look of dread crossed the man’s features. Joram cried out for help, his eyes white with fear.
“D’Athgaran, you’ll die for this outrage!” Joram shouted, surging to his feet and spilling food and drink in the hopes of escaping Leoric’s charge.
With a satisfying crunch, Leoric connected with a heavy forearm to the man’s chest. Joram staggered backwards and fell over the chair near the fire. “I warned you, Joram, you were not to touch her again!” Leoric uttered coldly while stalking his adversary. He gave no thought to the consequences of his actions, feeling no remorse and no pity. He had only one goal in mind, and nothing short of his own death was going to stop him.
Joram scampered backwards along the floor, blood already seeping from his mouth. As Leoric bore down on him, the bully’s gaze darted momentarily to something beyond Leoric’s left shoulder. Realizing the error in allowing his rage to consume him, Leoric threw himself desperately to one side. Despite his efforts, a heavy blow landed on his back, pain lancing immediately through the area.
Hitting the ground rolling, Leoric quickly regained his feet and turned to face Ealston. Joram’s imposing henchman stood there grinning wickedly. Tossing aside the broken remnants of the chair he had used to attack the borderman, he slipped a long, bone-handled knife out from under his tunic.
“I’ve waited long enough to kill you, Leoric!” Joram barked.
Warily attempting to keep an eye on both men, Leoric watched with apprehension as Joram toyed absently with a dagger. Unarmed, Leoric knew he was in trouble.
A voice from across the room brought them all to a standstill.
“Leoric! Don’t do this! Run. Run while you can!” Kieri’s eyes blazed with defiance, and she screamed in Joram’s direction. “You got nothing from me last night, nor will you ever, you bastard. You will go to the depths for your actions here among us!”
There was a conviction behind the words, so much so that Joram visibly paled as he stared wide-eyed at Kieri. With an agonizing cry, he hurtled towards her with his blade upraised. “You twisted whore! I’ll kill you!”
Leoric caught him in mid-stride, his powerful frame colliding heavily with Joram’s shoulder, bearing them both through a wooden table and crashing to the floor. With satisfaction, Leoric watched the blade skitter across the floor and out of reach. Expecting that
Ealston would already be coming to the aid of his master, Leoric struggled to his feet. Once standing, he pushed Joram back to the floor in an attempt to create some space in which he could maneuver.
Ealston failed to anticipate the sudden attack from behind. Just as Leoric had been preoccupied with Joram, so too did the big henchman forget to guard his own back. With a deep growl, Angvald wrapped his arms around the man, knocking the weapon from his grasp and launching him towards the wall. There was an audible crack as the man fell heavily to the floor. In two short strides, the Kaleenian was standing over the fallen henchman. With a mighty twist of his powerful arms, Angvald snapped the man’s neck. Sinking to the floor, Ealston died without a sound.
Seeing his man fall, Joram dove forward and jumped on Leoric’s back. Momentarily stunned, Leoric fell to his knees under the man’s subsantial weight. With surprising strength, Joram wrapped his arms around Leoric’s neck and started to crush the air from his windpipe. The shoulder weakened by Ealston’s attack denied Leoric any leverage as they fell backwards, Joram’s grip tightening. A stab of panic entered Leoric’s heart, realizing that he now lay helpless. In a daze, he could see Angvald slowly regaining his feet and heading his way, but already his vision swam dizzily.
Struggling to draw breath, Leoric’s outstretched hands clawed at the floor. With patches of light blinking across his vision, his hand suddenly came down on a cold metal object; it was Joram’s discarded dagger. With a rugged determination born out of fear, he closed his hand tightly around the weapon.
With a combined cry of rage and pain, Leoric thrust downwards, the dagger sinking deep into Joram’s flesh. A gush of warm blood washed over his hands and he tried desperately to roll away. As he did, one of Joram’s flailing arms caught him with a glancing blow across his temple. A bright flash of pain shattered Leoric’s thoughts as he rolled aside, his vision now blurry and muted. It took him a few moments to clear his mind of the ringing pain caused by the blow. As every second passed, he was sure that his defenseless position would mean his death. Leoric shook his head futilely and waited for the inevitable final blow; but it never came.
As his spotty vision finally cleared, he scanned for his enemy. It took only a second to find the man. Joram was dead, his sightless eyes staring up at the ceiling of his cursed home, blood still pouring from a ghastly wound. Embedded in the man’s neck was the dagger. Leoric had driven it through with his last ounce of strength and buried it up to the hilt.
As the red film slowly faded from Leoric’s eyes, he looked at the gruesome scene in dismay. Angvald stood in the doorway, his large frame outlined in the early morning light. The Kaleenian’s face look distressed as he crossed the floor in three purposeful steps and helped Leoric to his feet.
“Leoric, are you hurt?” he asked with concern.
Pausing a moment to compose himself, Leoric simply shook his head. He took one last glance at the carnage in the room, the corpses near his feet, and the still form of Kieri, and collapsed. “Check Kieri,” he managed to gasp.
Sometime during the violent struggle, one of the broken pieces of furniture must have been thrown in her direction. A large lump had already formed on her temple.
Angvald darted to her side. Bending down, he calmly checked her breathing and lightly touched the wound. In response, the woman’s eyes flickered open. With a weak smile, the bearded Kaleenian held her close. “She’s fine, Leoric… she’s just fine,” he said, his voice filled with relief.
The trio staggered out to the courtyard. There, mustered near the back of the nearest warehouse, was a small group of people. A whispered cry of joy rose up from those assembled as Leoric, Kieri, and Angvald joined them. Cara smiled broadly as she embraced Leoric.
“There will be repercussions after the events of this night,” Auric said. In his hands he held bags of supplies. Coiled around his shoulder was a healthy length of rope and a rounded leather map case poked out from one of the bags. “The bodies must be buried and any trace of their existence hidden. Some of us need to be departing,” he added, looking anxiously to the west.
Cara nodded in agreement. “Benoit, Angvald and Leoric must leave before the opportunity to escape grows any shorter.” Glancing at the sky, she frowned. “Judging by the light, you’re already far behind the proposed schedule.”
Wasting no further time, goodbyes were quickly exchanged. Standing apart from the others, Kieri and Leoric held each other in a tight embrace. Brushing aside a stray lock of her golden brown hair, he gently lifted her chin. Kieri’s eyes filled with tears as she pressed herself against him. Oblivious to their surroundings, they kissed each other passionately.
“If you ask it of me, I will stay,” he whispered.
“I love you, Leoric D’Athgaran. Nothing can change that. You hold my heart now and always,” Kieri wept. “But you cannot remain here with me. We both know that your path has already been chosen.”
“I cannot bear to lose you again…” Leoric trailed off.
“You once asked me if you would be remembered. I will never forget your courage, your generosity, and your understanding. Although apart for now, you will be in my memories each and every day,” she declared.
“One day, I will return for you,” Leoric vowed. “I swear to you, Kieri, you will not die a prisoner in this place.”
Putting a finger to his lips, she whispered, “Shh. Let’s not speak of the future. I know that I will be in your heart. For now, that is enough.”
“But —”
“Leo… just hold me one last time,” she asked of him.
Their tears mingled as they stood frozen in each other’s arms.
“Go… please. Be safe,” Kieri whispered.
With a nod, Leoric hefted his backpack and slung it over his good shoulder. He hugged Cara, uttering some parting words, and then joined Angvald near the edge of the field. Beside Angvald stood Finn Callum, the Iron Shield captain greeting Leoric with a warm smile.
“May the gods watch over you both,” Finn said as they embraced. Offering his blade hilt to Leoric, the officer added. “Take the blade, you’ll be needing it more than I.”
Leoric pushed it away. “Bury it here in a secret place. Use it if ever the need arises. The people here will look to you and Cara now, Captain, and you’ll need to keep them safe.”
“Leoric, I cannot acc —”
“Nonsense,” Angvald interrupted. “You have given us a chance to warn those who are in need. You have risked your life for strangers and for that we can never repay you.” Placing a large hand on the soldier’s shoulder, he continued. “I also know that the gods will look favourably upon you because of your actions. You are an honourable man, Finn Callum, and I am proud to call you a friend.”
With a serious nod, Leoric gripped the man’s arm firmly. “And besides, Angvald prefers the axe, and I prefer the mace. You have the skill to wield the sword. Keep them safe friend,” he finished with a wink.
With a final look at Kieri, the woman standing proudly at Cara’s side, he headed into the field and began to run. With his brawny arms raised in triumph, Angvald leapt after him, and in short order they had put the homestead well behind them.
The great wall built to guard the fields of Lok’Dal hie loomed above the four small figures. Leoric had forgotten how immense the structure truly was. It seemed like ages had passed since he had last travelled so near. In fact, it had been close to eight months since he had been so close to the great battlement.
“It’s bigger than I remember…” Auric breathed in awe.
Shocked by the sudden realization that the old prisoner had not been at the wall in well over two decades, Leoric placed a comforting hand on the man’s wiry shoulder. “You’ll never have to see it again after tonight, Auric,” he said.
“I know,” Auric replied.
Apart from three daggers, one long knife, and their new sets of cloth
es, the escapees carried little else. Their first failed escape attempt had resulted in the confiscation of most of their secretly hoarded supplies, including the majority of the food they had collected. Apart from the maps and rope, both of which Auric had been able to conceal while avoiding detection, the four men were going to have to rely heavily on the land to bolster their energy. If they could scale the wall without trouble, freedom lay on the other side.
Leoric was certain they wouldn’t need to trek further north to swim beneath the small channel that directed water into the fields. Auric swiftly threw one end of their rope, catching it on one of the high stone crenels. Soon they stood together atop the wall.
“Auric, you have been here the longest. The first descent is yours.” Leoric said unflinchingly.
“Thank you, lad,” Auric said, his eyes glistening and a tear sliding down one of his weathered cheeks.
Benoit followed next and Angvald third. As each man reached the ground, Leoric breathed a sigh of relief. No matter what happened during his own descent, the others would be able to carry on. Waving at his three companions, Leoric found himself almost reluctant to step over the edge of the battlement.
His time at Lok’Dal hie had changed him for the better, even though so much heartache had come with that change. For the first time in many years, Leoric felt alive like he had rarely felt before. His hardened soul, closed to the outside world for so long, had begun to heal because of the touch of a woman and the strength of his friends. He was looked to as a leader and vowed never again to seek refuge behind the walls of his fears.
Most satisfying of all was his belief that he had forged his own fate and his own luck. He now walked a path that no god had decreed for him. He was free because of the sacrifice of others, not because of the whim of some god.