by Wilson Harp
“You’re Val?” he asked.
“I am,” said Val. “And you must be Croft’s friend Martel.”
“Indeed, a pleasure to meet you. I wish it could have been under better circumstances.”
“Me too.”
“Why don’t you tell me what you need. Croft explained some of it, but I don’t want there to be any misunderstanding.”
“A group of us went into an old silver mine in the foothills north of the Shadowmist Woods. A tribe of goblins had taken up residence there. My brother and I went up there escorting a friend of ours who is a wizard’s apprentice. He went there to gather some lichen that grew in the mine. When we got there, we fought with some of the goblins. I was wounded, but we got away. When Horas heard the story, he decided that the goblins needed to be driven out of the area. He also thought they might have some treasure. We went back and were driving the goblins deeper into the tunnels when some heavily armored orcs appeared and captured us.”
“How did you escape?” asked Martel.
“An elf. He came in and woke us in the cages we were being held in. He led us out but indicated that he had seen the orcs taking my brother further into the caves. He said that Karl had a broken leg and it was too much of a risk to try and save him that night.”
“He was likely right. Who was with this elf?”
“Nobody that I could see. I saw him kill two of the orcs like they were just an annoyance to him. I’ve never seen anyone who could move or kill like that.”
“What did he look like?”
“He was young, would have been in his late teens if he were human. Dressed in dark leather clothes, maybe black. It was hard to see in the dim light. He had a long, thin dagger and a bow. The bow was black as well.”
Martel looked at Val as he considered what he had heard. “I’ll take the job. I have a group of friends who will go into the mines and bring your brother back.”
Val looked at Martel with shock plainly written on his face. “You didn’t ask what I am willing to pay yet.”
“No, I didn’t,” said Martel. “The price will be more than adequate, I’m sure. You arrange it with Croft.”
Val sat there shocked for a few more seconds before he stood and shook Martel’s hand. “I’ll never forget this, thank you.”
“Thank me when it’s done. I will need a day or two to prepare. I’ll send word to you in Black Oak when we are ready to go.”
Val smiled and left the inn. As he closed the door behind him, Croft came over to Martel.
“Can you do it?” asked the innkeeper.
“Maybe, but we need to leave within the hour. If they have this Karl alive, he won’t be for long. The orcs are probably upset at losing their other prisoners and at having so many of their number killed. Are you sure that Horas got a good count for you?”
“He said there were at least two dozen dead orcs as they left. The others will be here soon?”
Martel stood and looked at the door. “I’m expecting them any minute. They were finishing up buying supplies when I left them. Two days may already be too long to have waited to rescue that young man’s brother.”
“I know. I’m glad Donal and Calaran found you as quickly as they did. The trail north out of Long Branch will take you to the path to the mine,” said Croft. “Did you get the layout of the tunnel?”
“Yeah, Calaran pulled the right details out of Horas and the others. By the way, how did they know where to find us? Did you tell them?” asked Martel.
“I said you were near the high pass investigating a cave. How did that turn out?”
Martel shook his head. “It was a complete waste of time. There is definitely a collapsed passageway there, but the dwarven engineers told us that there are at least forty feet of solid rock blocking the passageway. Baldric was so upset he hasn’t had a beer for two days.”
“Are you serious?”
“It was more like three or four hours. But for him that would be like two days for a regular dwarf… who drank a lot.”
“So what will he do now?”
“He’s convinced that there are other entrances to the city, but until he can mount a larger expedition he is just trying to the keep the location of the cave a complete secret. Which brings up how Donal and Calaran found us.”
“I told them you were near the High Pass. They must have tracked you.”
Martel gave Croft a doubtful look. “I knew Donal was a great tracker, but he is even better than I thought. Ermine covered our tracks herself and was as embarrassed as Baldric was furious when we turned and saw Calaran standing there asking what we were looking at.”
“He does have a way of making people upset, doesn’t he?”
Both men turned to the window as the sound of horse hooves pounding down the road came from the direction of Black Oak.
Croft went over to the bar and started pulling mugs of beer from the tap. “Sounds like they are here.”
“Just two beers for Baldric, we have to leave as soon as we can,” said Martel.
The door to the inn opened and Namos the wizard walked in, slightly limping. “She threw me off my horse and told me to find out whether we were going to do the job or not.”
Martel shook his head at the man. “Tell her we have the job.”
Namos looked back outside towards the stable and shouted, “We have the job. Get the travel packs ready.”
“Well friend, looks like it’s time for me to go,” said Martel as he started for the door.
“Take care, Martel, and thank you for going after Karl. He really is a fine young man,” said the innkeeper as he watched the seasoned warrior leave his inn.
Just as Martel reached the door, Baldric came stumbling in. The dwarf wore a suit of heavy chain armor. He had a warhammer hung from one side of his thick leather belt and a shield hung from the other. A shiny metal helm sat perched on his head, and strapped to his back was a pack as big as he was.
“We are in a hurry,” said Martel as he leaned out of the way to let Baldric pass. “Don’t be long.”
“Just need something to wash the dust from my throat,” replied the dwarf.
“What dust? Black Oak is just a few miles away.”
“Fine, just two beers. I’ll be out before Ermine has you geared up.” Baldric licked his lips and held up two silver coins for Croft to see. Croft in return held up two beers for Baldric.
Martel walked to the stables by the inn and could hear Ermine and Namos arguing before he made it into the wide door.
“Ouch. Watch it. That strap wasn’t in place yet,” said Namos.
“It should have been in place when I put it on your shoulder; you must have moved it,” responded Ermine as she tightened up another strap on the wizard’s back. She wore a pack on her back, and her sword was slung low on her waist. A few well secured knives, a quiver of arrows, and a short bow made up the rest of her arsenal. Her shield leaned against the stable wall ready for her to pick up.
“Ouch! First you throw me off of my horse, and now you are breaking my ribs,” the wizard complained, pulling away from his lover.
“Big baby,” she shot back at him before turning to Martel. “Need help with your pack?”
“No, I’ve got it Ermine,” Martel said as he hurried to put his own pack on. He knew full well the way Ermine liked to tighten up straps. The first time she had “helped” him put on a pack, he knew that she was not the woman for him. He never associated pain and leather straps with any kind of pleasure.
He edged away from Ermine as she walked past him, afraid her mother-hen instincts would take over and she would be overwhelmed by the desire to help him strap on his gear.
She was at the door to the stable when she looked back at him. “Better hurry; Baldric is leaving the inn.”
“Well, I guess I’d better go too,” said Namos as he shrugged the small pack on his back into a more comfortable position and checked the numerous bags on his pouch.
“I have one more strap to get in place.
Tell her to go on, and I’ll catch up,” said Martel. He finally got the strap where he wanted it and grabbed his shield from his horse. He tossed a silver coin to Mikel, the boy Croft had hired to help him around the inn, and hurried out of the stable to catch up with the others heading down the high road.
The sun was still a couple of hours from noon as they headed toward the path that would lead them to the ruins of Long Branch in the Shadowmist Wood. Martel could remember when Long Branch had been a quiet little hamlet nestled among the trees. It used to be a pleasant little stopping point on the way to the mountains in the north. There had been an herb and potion woman who lived there. Martel could not remember the old lady’s name, but she had been one of the first to die of the plague that had struck Long Branch. The men of Black Oak had forbidden the sick from coming out of the forest. After a couple of weeks, a group of drunken men from the town had gone into the woods. The survivors of the plague were all sick and weak, but some of the woodsmen in the area thought they might be recovering. That was before the mob left the town too roused with drink and stupid with fear to be stopped. They had descended on the village and slaughtered every person they could find, including three children.
Someone else had been in the woods, though. Eight of the men of Black Oak were killed as well. They were found with a single black arrow in each of their hearts. Donal had been suspected, but he had been guiding a group of merchants across the Tebrian Reach at the time of the killing.
Within a few months woodsmen and hunters had started to camp near Long Branch. Eventually there was a semi-permanent camp set up on the old green near the middle of the abandoned hamlet. Martel reckoned that they would hit the camp site about three hours past noon and be able to reach the silver mine right at dusk. They would dive right into the mine with Baldric leading the way. Dwarves could see almost perfectly in caves regardless of the light, so he would be on equal footing with the goblins and orcs. Namos had an enchantment prepared that he would cast on himself, Martel and Ermine so that they could see in the darkness of the mine as well. Because of these preparations, the party only had a few torches and flasks of oil with them for an emergency.
The trees parted in front of the group a few hours later to reveal what was left of the ruins of Long Branch. Martel was stunned to see blackened timbers where ramshackle houses had stood. The last time he had been through these woods was four or five years ago, but many buildings had still stood at that time. Now there was nothing to show there had been a settlement here but the scorch marks and burned clumps of ash and charcoal. Next spring nature would erase the remnants of the houses, and only the stone fire pits that the hunters used regularly would let a traveler know he was at a place to camp.
Ermine looked at Martel with a sad shrug as they moved through these woods. She had been friends with the herbalist woman and had spent some time in Long Branch between adventures when she, Croft, and their other friends had stayed at the Silver Sword Inn. Within a few minutes they had left Long Branch behind and turned east to follow the foothills. The directions that Donal had given them were perfect, and within a couple of hours Martel and his friends were at the foot of the long, narrow cleft that would take them to the mine entrance. Baldric smiled back at the rest as he pulled his shield from its sling and readied his warhammer in his hand. Ermine took the rear position and readied her bow, scanning the high ridges that flanked the narrow climb.
The sun was sitting right on top of the distant mountain peaks to the west when Baldric stepped out into the clearing at the top of the ascent. He looked off to the right where they had been told there was small stand of trees and bushes to observe the entrance from cover. The small stand had been cleared out. The twang of a bow shot reached his ear at the same time an arrow bounced off of his shield.
“Orcs!” Baldric cried as he rushed towards the three vile creatures standing near the entrance to the mine. Martel rushed forward as well, his sword held low and his shield in front of him. He heard the sound of several bow shots and saw one arrow skip across the ground inches from his feet. He heard the harsh guttural sounds of the orcs yelling and Baldric’s dwarven battle cries. Then all noise stopped. He pulled out of his run and lowered his shield. One of the orcs had two arrows in him from Ermine’s bow, and the other two had been crushed by the warhammer that Baldric was wiping clean.
Martel looked at the entrance and saw that there were black and red markings all over. Forty feet from the left of the entrance was a pile of smoldering corpses that had been buried under wood and set ablaze. The wood used to burn them had likely been green, and that would explain why the small stand of bushes and trees was missing. Namos walked over to the pile and looked at it intently.
“Orcs and goblins. At least fifty, maybe as many as seventy-five,” said the wizard.
“No war party then,” said Baldric with a nod. “That many we are talking about a whole clan or sizable army. Especially if they are still guarding the entrance.”
He pointed to a couple of skulls set up on the rocks around the entrance. “See these? Skulls of ogres, and that one is the skull of a basilisk. These are the totems of the orc clan. They probably found the goblin tribe and enslaved them in a matter of days. The orcs move in and take over the tunnels and force the goblins to do hard labor in exchange for protecting them.”
“How many do you think are in there?” asked Ermine.
Baldric spit on one of the orc bodies at his feet. “Three less, plus however many our elf friend killed two or three days ago. When was the boy taken?”
“Two days ago,” answered Martel. “But how many orcs, Baldric.”
“Maybe two hundred. Maybe more, maybe less. Some will be out raiding, so we can take fifty from that number. Not more than fifty or so goblins left. If the orcs were overly upset about losing their prisoners, they may have killed all the goblins in a fury.”
“Let’s go get Karl from them,” said Ermine as she unstrapped her pack. “We can count the bodies after we’re done.”
The others nodded and took their packs off as well. Namos enchanted their eyesight as Martel and Ermine slipped on their chainmail shirts. Baldric crept into the mine to listen and watch for orcs. When they were all ready to proceed, Martel motioned them forward. Namos’ spell was superb, and the warrior could see just as easily in the darkened mine shaft as if a lantern had been hung above his head. Baldric led the way, watching for traps that the orcs might have set for intruders.
The party reached the first split in the mine in just a few minutes. Baldric listened closely to both tunnels and indicated by hand motion that the tunnel to the left held a large number of goblins, while the tunnel to the right was silent. From Calaran’s account of the adventure, they knew both that Horas and his company had taken the right passageway and that it likely was where Karl would be found. Namos motioned his intent to Martel and Ermine. They both nodded, and he started the incantation. In a few seconds there was a shaking and rumbling as a section of stone from the floor rose up and completely blocked off the left tunnel.
The sound of heavy boots from the right tunnel put a smile on Baldric’s face, and he stood at the center of the entrance and waited. The others stepped out of sight and watched as two orcs came charging at the lone dwarf. Baldric stepped forward and swung his warhammer upward as the first orc swung his curved sword. The orc’s ribs were crushed by the power of the blow, and he flew against the wall. The second orc brought his heavy axe straight down on the dwarf, but Baldric was able to get his shield up to block the sharp blade. His warhammer found one of the orc’s knees, and a second swing of the hammer found the orc’s head.
Baldric smiled at the humans behind him and started down the tunnel as quietly as he could. Martel motioned the others forward, and they soon came to a chamber where a shattered goblin statue was illuminated by low burning braziers. The party looked around for any orcs or goblins, but the room was empty and there was a single passage out.
Namos stopped the group and motion
ed that he was going to set another enchantment over them. Martel recognized it as one that would protect their minds from being seized or confused by foul magic. After the incantation was over, Baldric took the lead again, and they traveled down a steeply sloping tunnel that led them far underground. They started hearing noises from around a bend, and Martel tapped Baldric on his shoulder to stop him. When Baldric stopped, Namos came up to the front and cast a spell of invisibility on himself. About a minute later Martel heard Namos speak softly.
“Two guards in the hallway looking towards us. A few guards walking around in the large room. A chair on a platform along the far wall with a very large orc sitting on it. He is flanked by two ogres, and an orc wizard stands behind his chair. Maybe another ten orcs and several goblins are in the room.”
Martel nodded and spelled out the plan for their attack. “Baldric, we will let Namos slip past the guards. Then you charge into the room, and I will be three seconds behind you. Ermine, you follow us a few seconds later. Namos, wait until I come into the room behind Baldric—then take down the orc wizard as fast as you can.”
“There are two other passages out of the room. I’ll block them up once I take the wizard down,” said Namos.
“Go and get ready. We will start after a ten count.”
Baldric was starting to bounce on his toes as Martel counted slowly to himself. When he reached ten, he tapped Baldric’s helmet with his sword and watched as the dwarf started running around the bend and towards the orc guards. He counted off a slow three before he started running after the dwarf. He heard the sound of Baldric’s battle cry as he rounded the bend. Baldric had run right past the two guards and had launched himself with a fury into a group of three orcs just inside the room. The two guards were facing into the room, frozen with shock as the dwarf started swinging his hammer. Martel’s sword took the head from the guard on the left side of the hallway as he ran into the room. He didn’t like leaving an armed orc behind him, but he knew that Ermine would kill that one on her charge.
A flash of light exploded near the chair at the far end of the room. Martel blinked as he spun to the right where he had seen two orcs. He felt one of the orcs get slammed between himself and the wall and slashed where he thought the other would be. His instincts were correct as he heard the orc’s scream and felt his blade bite deep. His vision cleared, and he looked at the far wall to see both ogres on their knees holding their ears and the orc leader pulling himself to his feet with a look of pure hate. Martel slammed the orc he had run into back into the wall and stabbed him low in the stomach. The orc’s eyes told Martel that it had been a fatal wound, and he spun off the wall into the melee that was developing near the center of the room.