The Crimson Cobra

by Thomas Green

  The Crimson Cobra

  by

  Thomas Green

  http://thomasgreen.info

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with.

  Copyright © 2018 Thomas Green. All rights reserved. Including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the author.

  Version 1_2018.06.03

  Chapter 1

  The sound of the alarm bell echoed through the village. Evelyn leaped up from the bed and reached for her clothes, a leather tunic and high boots. She crossed the small room of the inn, opened the wooden door and dashed out.

  The inn was in an uproar. Half-dressed people were swarming out of their rooms, while trying to take whatever belongings they had. Evelyn skillfully weaved through the crowd to reach the stairs while the old wood creaked under her feet as she descended.

  The people of the village thronged in the main hall of the inn. More people kept rushing in. The ones inside were building makeshift barricades out of chairs and tables. The aged innkeeper was hiding behind the bar.

  Evelyn sprinted to the old man, gripped his hair and pulled his head backward. “Concentrate! Where are the cellar keys? Hmm?”

  He stared into her emerald eyes, absent-minded.

  Evelyn kicked him in the shin. “Focus! Cellar keys, where?”

  He pointed to the wall, his arm shaking.

  Evelyn grabbed the keys and jolted to the stairs. The cellars were but a hallway leading to three rooms. Hard packed earth made the floor ground, and the hallway had a small window at the end.

  The closest room was the wine cellar where barrels were stacked upon each other. Evelyn drew her dagger from behind her belt, stabbed the cork bung of the barrel, and ripped it free. Red wine burst out of the gaping hole, splashing onto the ground. She weaved through the room, repeating the process and then stove in the ends of three of them once they were empty.

  When she finished, she dashed to the next cellar. Smoked meat hung from the ceiling, piles of cheese and bread lay on shelves. Useless.

  Evelyn walked into the third cellar, which was an empty room. She turned and ran back into the main hall.

  The air reeked of fear, weeping women and children filled the bar while the men stood guard by the windows and doors. Most held an axe, a few had a spear, and the rest wielded whatever sharp object they could find.

  The women stared at Evelyn as she peered at them.

  “I can hide twenty-four children, one boy above twelve, and the rest under ten.”

  “But… there are… over fifty,” a woman said.

  “Twenty-four, not a soul more.”

  “You can’t decide that!” An old woman shouted as she stood up before Evelyn. “We can all hide!”

  Evelyn jabbed her throat, the woman collapsed to the ground, gargling through her bruised windpipe. “Twenty-four.”

  The remaining women fell silent. Slowly and reluctantly, they started letting go of their children.

  “There are stairs around the corner, wait for me at the bottom,” Evelyn commanded as she counted the children. She let twenty-four pass, but stopped the twenty fifth one. “Tough luck.”

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” A man shouted from behind her.

  Evelyn stomped on his ankle, spun on her heel and jabbed his throat with rigidly extended fingers. He coughed and fell onto his knees. Evelyn pried the axe he was carrying out of his hands and slammed the flat of its blade into his temple. He collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

  Evelyn bolted down the stairs to the cellar, slid past the terrified children and stepped onto the wine-covered floor. The wine had turned the floor of the entire cellar into a pool of blood. “Three of you get in there, hide in the three open barrels, and don’t touch the others.”

  The children stared at her breathlessly.

  “You, you and you, move!”

  The three kids she motioned came to her. She pushed them into the cellar and motioned them to the three empty barrels. The first boy climbed into the barrel by himself. The second child, a girl, hesitated but did as commanded after a bit of pushing. The last one, a blue-eyed girl, caught Evelyn’s leg.

  Evelyn pierced her with a stare. “Let go of my leg. Now!”

  The girl exploded into tears, but obeyed.

  Shouting echoed from above, so Evelyn returned to the main hall.

  “Follow me.” Evelyn led the remaining children to the final room. The cellar room was small, but she crammed all twenty-one children into it. “You,” she pointed at the oldest boy, “tomorrow morning, you will use this axe to break through the door, bottom left segment, got it?”

  He nodded.

  She pushed him inside and slammed the door shut. Evelyn locked the door, raised the axe and started hacking the support column by the wall. The shouting from above intensified. She paid it no heed. The column soon gave in. Evelyn moved to the second one and hacked away. As the second pillar fell, the floor joists fell over the door of the cellar with children, blocking it. She clambered up the pile of debris and swung the axe at the upper left corner of the door. The children burst into screams. The old rotten planks gave in, showing an opening. Evelyn pushed the axe through the hole. “From now on, make no sound. If you are thirsty, drink the wine from the floor. Got it?”

  Awkward silence filled the air.

  “Good.” Evelyn spun on her heel and walked up to the main room of the inn.

  The main hall stank of sweat blended with terror. From outside echoed screams and shouts. Evelyn approached the tap and poured herself a mug of beer.

  “How can you… be so… calm?” A woman near her stuttered.

  “Not my first slaver raid.”

  “What will… happen to… us?”

  “Depends, the men with weapons will be killed, you will get captured and I will sneak away.”

  The woman's eyes filled with terror. Evelyn guzzled the contents of the mug and poured herself another one.

  “They blocked themselves in there, boss,” a voice shouted from the outside.

  A female voice responded. “Set it ablaze.”

  Gotta hurry. Evelyn drank the beer and refilled the mug again. The first whiff of smoke sent the room into panic. Everyone started shouting and arguing. Evelyn ignored them and kept drinking the beer. The brown liquid was strong and bitter. She enjoyed the alcohol seeping into her veins.

  The room heated up as cracking of flames echoed from above. The roof was on fire.

  “We will suffocate if we stay here! We need to go out!” The largest man in the inn shouted.

  Not exactly, for it rained yesterday, so the fire won’t get past the straw-filled roof. Some of the men protested, but the thickening smoke convinced them otherwise. The villagers formed a three-man-wide line that weaved through the inn like a grotesque snake. The smarter of them grabbed chairs to use as shields. Evelyn grabbed a small round table and stood at the end of the line. The men gave her curious looks, but nobody said anything.

  The men at the front cleared the barricade, flung open the door, and shouted battle cries as they sprinted out of the inn. Evelyn saw nothing, only heard the screams. The row in front of her ran out. She didn’t hesitate and sprinted forward when it was her turn. Outside of the inn were two-do
zen men spread in a semi-circle. They held bows and crossbows and shot everyone who ran out of the inn. It was an absolute slaughter. Evelyn shielded herself with the table and ran along the side of the inn. Three arrows pierced the wood, but none reached her.

  Two men stood before her. She threw the table at the man to her left. He blocked it with his arms. Evelyn drew her dagger, sidestepped the swinging sword of the second man and ran her dagger into his throat. The first man slammed into her side. The impact threw her off, her dagger stayed stuck in the second man’s throat. She rolled up to her feet, but the slaver was already on her. He was tall, dressed in rough leathers and swung at her with a long heavy sword. Evelyn weaved from the strike, kicked his knee, grabbed his shoulder and pushed him forward. He fell over. She spun from him and dashed away.

  Half of the houses of the village were on fire. Among them, men on horses were rounding up whoever they could from the screaming villagers. Something caught her legs and made her fall to the ground, face first. Evelyn spun and saw a throwing net tying her legs together. Shit!

  “Going somewhere?” a female voice asked from her side. She turned and saw a sharp-featured blonde walking toward her. She was dressed in well-kept scale armor and held a long curved sword.

  Evelyn drew her second dagger and bent to cut the net. The woman stepped to her and slammed her foot into Evelyn’s side. The steel boot dug into her flesh, the impact threw her to the side. Evelyn shouted out in pain. The woman stepped to her and stomped onto her stomach. Evelyn screamed and curled into a ball.

  “Quite the fighter, aren’t you?” the woman asked and kicked her in the side.

  Evelyn grunted in pain and stabbed at the woman’s leg. Her dagger bounced off the greave protecting her shin.

  The woman laughed and stomped onto her head. Evelyn’s world turned black for the moment, her head exploded with pain, her vision became blurry. The woman caught Evelyn’s hands, jerked them forward and bound them with heavy iron shackles. She grabbed Evelyn by the hair and pulled her back toward the inn. Evelyn tried to stand, but the net still held her legs tight.

  The woman dragged her through the ash-covered mud and tossed her into the main square. “How’s it looking?”

  One of the men turned to her. “Got the inn, Allara, so we’re almost done here.”

  “Good, don’t forget to search the cellars.”

  “Boss.” The man bowed and left to command the others.

  Evelyn lay on the ground and focused on not fainting. The slavers gathered the remaining villagers in the town square. There were over a hundred of them, mostly younger women and children.

  “Quite a haul,” a well-armored men sitting on a horse told the blond woman.

  Allara smiled. “Indeed. Time to cull the unfit.”

  The man nodded. “Yes, boss.”

  The slavers combed through the people and separated everyone over thirty years old or under ten. The men struggled and shouted, the women screamed and wept. It didn’t matter.

  Once separated, the slavers drew their sword and slaughtered the villagers they deemed too old or too young down to the last weeping baby.

  “Seventy three left, excellent,” Allara said. “Let’s move out.”

  A man jerked Evelyn up to her feet. He cut the net from her legs and attached her shackles to a chain. They attached all of them to three separate chains.

  Evelyn had no strength left to struggle, but she still paid attention to her surroundings. She saw the three children she had put into the barrels, but she saw nobody from the twenty-one children she hid in the third cellar.

  The slavers mounted their horses, surrounded their new acquisitions and driven by the hissing crack of multiple lashes. The three chains of prisoners walked out of the burning village, Evelyn among them.

  Chapter 2

  The slavers force-marched their new prospects through the entire night. The weeping of the women and whimpering of the children faded away to nothing as shock and exhaustion took their toll. The only sounds echoing through the air were the clopping of horseshoes and ringing of chains.

  The dawn greeted them with a blood-red sky as they ascended into mountains. The mountain path was strewn with rocks and besieged by encroaching shrubs, still there was enough room for the coffles of prisoners to trudge along side by side.

  The sun was up high above them, but they still hadn’t had a minute of rest. At regular intervals, the slavers walked around the chains and gave each of them water. It wasn’t much, but enough to keep them going. The sun swung past noon before they stopped in front of a smooth but otherwise unremarkable rock face bordering the trail.

  Allara walked up to it, touched the stone with her hand and mumbled something. The rock split apart, its halves sliding to either side, revealing a passage hidden beyond them. The slavers prodded their captives into the darkness of the tunnel. Once the last slaver and prisoner entered the mountain, Allara mumbled something, and the stone gate closed. She turned to them afterward. “Six hours rest.”

  The prisoners crashed onto the ground, exhausted. The slavers gave each of them water and a small piece of bread to eat. Evelyn devoured it within seconds and observed her captors as Allara read from a yellowed scroll. Evelyn focused and felt magic swell through the air, coming out of the scroll, weaving around the captives. A long range detection spell... if there is anyone following us, the slavers will know.

  “You look like you didn’t go down easily,” a boy near Evelyn whispered, disturbing her from her thoughts.

  She measured him with a glare. He was tall, broad-shouldered, fair-haired and had his first beard sprouting out on his square face. “You look like you shat yourself the moment the alarm bell rang.”

  He laughed. “I’m Matt.”

  “Evelyn.”

  “Do you know what will happen to us now?”

  Evelyn raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think I know? Hmm?”

  “You’re one of the few people who haven’t soiled themselves yet.”

  “I have the rough idea. Now they take us to their lair, where they will keep us for a time. Then they take us to a slave market, where we will be sold to the highest bidder.”

  Matt shook his head. “You don’t seem to be bothered.”

  “I don’t fuss over things I can’t change.”

  He sighed. “I wish I could have been like that. Have you seen a small-framed blonde girl?”

  “Three of them, any more detail?”

  “Her name’s Anna, she’s got big blue eyes and is about ten.”

  Sounds like the girl I tried to hide into a wine barrel. Evelyn pierced him with a stare. “Sounds a bit too young for you.”

  Matt blushed. “It’s not that! She’s my sister.”

  “I did, she’s behind, toward the end of the second chain.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You are surprisingly calm…”

  “For a village boy?” He interrupted her.

  “Yes.”

  “My dad has been taking me hunting. I guess I can… thank him… for this.” He stuttered the last words as the realization set into him. Matt burst out into tears.

  “I am sorry for your loss.”

  He wept as silently as he could while Evelyn tried to rest.

  The slavers stayed true to their word, they gave them the full six hours. At first, almost nobody got up, but a few kicks and slaps returned the strings of prisoners to their march. They now walked ridgeline of the mountain along a well-kept path.

  Evelyn turned over her shoulder and gave Matt a sharp glare. “Stop staring at my ass.”

  He turned red, but then laughed. “I apologize.”

  A slaver smacked Evelyn in the shoulder. “Quiet!”

  They walked in silence. Their march outlasted the sun’s trip across the sky. It was long after the sun had set that they reached their destination. They passed a well-masked outpost by the start of a long cleft, a narrow path surrounded by steep cliffs. At its end stood a mountain looking as a last too
th in a broken mouth. Sharp cliffs separated it from the rest of the mountains save for the narrow cleft. A cave opening gaped wide, leading directly into the mountain, broken stalagmites and stalagmites gave it the appearance of a giant snarling mouth.

  Evelyn scanned the area. The cliffs are too steep to climb, leaving the narrow cleft as the sole entrance. This is a natural fortress and the outpost behind us gives an excellent view of anyone trying to approach.

  The inside of the mountain looked like an empty cone, a cone with a spiral path weaving around its sloping sides all the way from the top to the bottom. By the trail were cells carved into the mountain itself. Braziers scattered around the path illuminated most of it like a snake made of flames. Evelyn gazed upon the cavern's ceiling and saw a set of pulleys. Chains hung from the pulleys, reaching the small village at the bottom of the cone.

  Evelyn paid close attention to all she saw. The first cells are guard posts, four men each. One, two… three rooms behind them are living quarters while there's no space for kitchens, so those must be below in the village. The actual cells are barred, small, three to six people each.

  She scanned the people held within the first set of cells. Dirty, but not starved, they have been here for two days tops. This is a former city. Whatever the former citizens of this place used the cells for in the past wasn’t for keeping prisoners, the conversion is crude, the bars having been added much later.

  “Allara, darling, I see you are right on time,” echoed from ahead.

  Evelyn focused on the conversation.

  “Fuck off, Rik.”

  “Come on, darling, not even a welcome hug? You don’t have to be shy, I won’t tell the boss.”

  Allara sighed. “I wonder what does one have to do to make you shut your mouth.”

  “You know what I want, darling.”

  “Do I? My memory fails me, so how about you put the new slaves into cells for me? It might help me refresh my mind.”

  Rik smiled. “For you, darling, anything.”

  Their convoy stopped. The slavers let them gather while Rik stood before them. He was surprisingly unimpressive, he was of average looks, average figure, short brown hair, and wore a battered armor. “Alright, sweetlings, listen up. The good news is, we are going to remove your shackles. The bad news, well, we will lock you up in cells. Worry not though, because they won’t be your home for long. Don’t make trouble and you will survive, make trouble and… well… you will be the next main event. Now, if you would be so kind, my colleagues shall show you to your rooms.”