Everyone stared at the centaur in shock.
Perenia wiped her eyes and tried to sound brave. “He sent me to find help,” said the centaur. “I see now that he sent me away to save me from being captured.” Tears streamed down the centaur’s lovely face. “I should have stayed!” she wailed. She covered her face and bawled again.
“Now, now,” said Milena soothingly. “He’s not dead yet.”
“He might as well be,” snapped the centaur. “They never take prisoners. They only kill whoever gets captured.”
“Then why take them all the way to their camp?” queried Harran.
“Maybe they wish to torture their prisoners first,” suggested Zylor.
Perenia wailed again and Milena gave the minotaur a dirty look.
“I don’t think so,” said Sherman slowly. He was looking through the glass. “There appears to be a fenced in area in the west end of the camp. Judging by the activity in there, the prisoners are going to be kept there.”
“Why would they have the prisoners hauled all the way back to the camp—if you don’t mind my askin’?” said Rubin.
“Perhaps it’s meant to cause the remaining centaurs to capitulate when they see their leader and his elite guard captured,” answered Sherman. “Plus, placing the prisoners near the back of the camp will dissuade any centaurs who are still free to stage a prison break,” answered the warrior. “If there’s a whole army to go through to reach the prisoners, they might not risk the attempt, even if it means abandoning their leader. Going around the camp they would be seen and chased away, and the mountains are generally too treacherous for them to scale. The other side is blocked by the river. That means barging through the enemy is the only way for them to reach their leader.”
“That ain’t very good odds,” admitted Rubin.
“Torture!” wailed Perenia, more softly this time.
“See what you’ve done!” said Milena, still glaring at the minotaur.
Zylor shrugged. “We’ll rescue them before they get a chance to do anything.”
Perenia stopped crying and looked at the minotaur in surprise.
He grinned viciously. “They don’t stand a chance.”
The centaur gave him a curious look, considering his words.
“There are some mages waiting by the prisoner’s gates,” said Sherman suddenly.
“Let’s see,” said Kazin. He took the looking glass and searched out the prison yard. Each mage held a staff topped with a white skull. Then a chilling thought occurred to him. They could be preparing to turn the centaurs into zombies! If they succeeded, they would be strengthening their forces immeasurably! He wisely chose to keep the idea to himself for the time being.
The young mage scanned the horizon and was surprised to see the approaching army already at the fringes of the encampment. A way was being opened to allow the prisoners to be led to their prison yard. Goblins hopped and jeered as they passed.
Finally the last of the centaurs was shoved into the prison yard and the gate was closed. Several guards took up position in front of it. The mages scanned the centaurs with interest for a while and then departed. Apparently they were not casting any spells at this time. Maybe they were using the prisoners for bait, reasoned Kazin.
A tall mercenary astride a black warhorse wheeled his mount away from the prisoners and galloped through the ranks of scrambling goblins, paying no heed to those he knocked aside. He alighted his horse in front of a large, ominous black tent guarded by two large trolls and spoke with one of them briefly. The troll entered the tent and came out a moment later, beckoning the mercenary inside.
“I think I know which tent is the commander’s,” said Kazin.
“Which one?” asked Harran.
Kazin handed him the looking glass. “The large black one near the center of the camp.”
“I see it,” said the dwarf. He scanned the encampment carefully. “Ah-ha!” he said, straightening.
“What is it?” asked Rubin.
“The wolves are gathered at the base of the mountain just within the tree line. I guess they don’t like being in the open.”
“That’s right,” said a voice behind them, startling them all. It was Frosty.
“I just had a quick look down there. Other than the wolves, there are only four sentries on guard on this side of the camp. If they’re expecting a jailbreak, they’re expecting it to come from the front.”
“I didn’t even know you were gone,” said Kazin.
“I am very good when it comes to stealth,” said Frosty, “as you well know.”
Harran handed Kazin the looking glass and the mage looked toward the base of the mountain at the wolves. A plan suddenly began to form in his mind.
“We are doomed,” cried Perenia quietly. “No one will save my father. Our race will fall!”
“No, it won’t,” said Kazin suddenly. He lowered the looking glass and smiled at the centaur. “Zylor’s right. We’re going to rescue your father and his companions and help them to escape!”
“What!?” exclaimed Sherman. “You can’t be serious! How do you plan to do that?”
Kazin handed the looking glass to Milena. “I haven’t got all the details worked out quite yet. I need some questions answered first.” He turned to Della. “Have you got your quiver along?”
The elf nodded.
Kazin turned to the centaur. “Perenia, are you up to taking part in the rescue?”
Perenia dried her eyes. “Yes, but how—?”
“Milena,” said Kazin, ignoring the centaur, “do you see the wolves below?”
“Yes,” replied the druid.
“Do you think you can animate the trees to cause a little interference? A barrier, perhaps?”
Milena blinked. “I think so.’
Kazin looked at Harran. “Would you mind looking like a goblin for a while?”
Harran didn’t look too pleased but nodded anyway. “Magic, right?”
Kazin nodded. He spun around on the unicorn. “Can you light arrows with fire using your horn?”
“Of course,” said Frosty sullenly. “What do you take me for?”
Kazin didn’t answer. He turned to the sailor. “Can you make yourself look like a mercenary, Rubin?”
“Sure, if ye like,” answered the sailor.
Kazin turned to Sherman. “Would you be willing to use your ring?”
“Sure, but—.”
“Then we can do it,” said Kazin confidently.
“Do what?” retorted Sherman. “Tell us what you’ve got in mind or I’ll throttle you!”
“O.K.,” said Kazin, drawing a quick sketch of the enemy camp on the ground with the butt of his staff. “Sherman, I want you to wear your ring and take out two of the sentries. Rubin, you disguise yourself as a mercenary and use your disguise to get close to the other two sentries and take them out. Frosty can tell you where they are positioned. If someone comes along and asks you what you’re doing, tell them you’re the replacement sentry or something. When you and Sherman have completed your tasks, whistle twice. That should signal the next phase of my plan. Zylor, you and Harran look mean and enter the enemy camp and approach the prison guards. Act as though you belong there. If anyone asks, you came out of the portal the other night and got lost in the mountains. I know minotaurs are rare in this area, but no one will suspect a minotaur of being a part of a rescue party for centaurs. It’s a long way within enemy lines, so be careful.”
“What do we do when we get to the prison guards?” asked Harran.
“Nothing,” said Kazin, “because, before you get there, phase three will come into effect.” He looked at Della and Perenia. “Della, Perenia, I really hate to send you into a hornet’s nest, but you will have the most daunting task of all.”
“I
t doesn’t matter to me,” said Perenia. “If my race dies, then it is fitting that I should perish with them.”
“I will do it,” said Della firmly. Her hazel eyes locked on Kazin’s.
He could see a combination of fear and determination in those eyes, along with something else he couldn’t quite make out.
Kazin took a breath. “I need you to ride into the heart of the enemy camp and fire your arrows into the supply tents. Frosty will be going with you. Before firing each arrow, I want you to light them by touching their tips to Frosty’s horns.”
Kazin turned to his familiar. “I want you to run with them and light their arrows. In addition, I’d like you to shield them from any magical attack.”
“Certainly,” said Frosty unemotionally.
“Once that phase is underway,” continued Kazin, “Harran and Zylor can use the distraction to take out the prison guards and free the centaurs. Once free, the centaurs can do their part to assist us in disrupting the camp. They look in good enough shape to do at least that. When the centaur leader is freed, use whatever force necessary to get him and his fellow warriors away from the camp. Tell them to break free to the west and then move south into the Waste for a few miles before circling back into the centaur lands in the east. I’m sure they know the way. They should be able to make a clean break. No one can catch them but the wolves, and they, I’m hoping, will be somewhat held up.” He looked at Milena.
“I’ll do my part, Kazin,” said the druid.
“What about me and Rubin?” asked Sherman.
“Go and assist Zylor and Harran,” responded Kazin. “They’ll be neck deep in enemy forces and may need help to escape. Once the centaurs are free, everyone is to retreat back into the mountains and Frosty can shield our tracks and scent so we can reach our horses without fear of being followed. From there, we will have to ride hard around the north side of this mountain and pick our way across and into elven territory. Above all, we need to watch out for each other. None of us leaves until all of us are safely away from the enemy.”
“That goes without saying,” said Sherman. “Your plan is all good and well, Kazin, but what about you? What will you be doing?”
“I have something important to do as well,” said the mage. “You will see me when it is time.”
“When do we start?” asked Zylor.
“Right now,” said Kazin. “Here’s the setup…”
Chapter 47
Rubin smiled as he strode confidently up to the mercenary guard. “The captain wants to see ya,” said the disguised sailor. “I’ll take your place for the time bein’.”
The guard wasn’t sure whether he would prefer guard duty or face his captain. “Did he say why?” he asked nervously.
Rubin smiled wickedly. “If you aren’t there in five minutes, I’ll wager he’ll have your hide. You better git!”
The guard hastily turned to run back into camp but didn’t get far as Rubin’s powerful fist clamped down on his neck. The sailor’s other hand slipped a knife across the man’s throat. The guard slipped silently to the ground.
“Sorry, bud,” said Rubin sadly. “I don’t like to do this kind o’ thing, but what ye’re fightin’ for is wrong.” He looked around for his second victim.
Sherman trod silently through the undergrowth. He had asked Frosty before he left what Kazin was up to, but the unicorn claimed that he couldn’t read Kazin’s thoughts on the matter, not that he would say what his thoughts were, anyway.
The warrior’s first target was easily subdued and now he snuck up to his second target, making as little noise as possible. He took one more step and his worst fear made itself manifest. A dry twig snapped beneath his boot. He froze.
The sentry, a darkly garbed mercenary, turned and peered directly at him—or through him, in this case.
Suddenly a whistle sounded in the woods, followed by another. Rubin had completed his task. The sentry turned away and peered into the darkness where the whistle had sounded.
Sherman silently drew his Sword of Dead. It became visible, glowing eerily white in the light of the starry sky above. With an experienced swing, he severed the mercenary’s head, the head and body falling to the earth with a dull thump. Sherman raised a hand to his lips and gave two long whistles.
Zylor and Harran looked at each other. This was it. Shouldering their weapons, they strode into the northwest side of the enemy camp. They walked casually, not bothering to pay attention to the goblins camped nearby. Harran wore Zylor’s talisman and looked like a typical goblin, his ice axe disguised as a smaller, ordinary axe. Zylor appeared as himself.
Several goblins stared at them but turned away when Zylor glared at them.
The two warriors continued walking, each hoping they wouldn’t be found out. Fortunately no one bothered them, and they walked without incident toward the prison yard. Both warriors felt small as the enormity of the enemy army sank in. Their hearts beat loudly in their ears. Harran felt sure of himself despite the fear. Zylor wouldn’t have it any other way.
They were only yards away from the guards. Where was the distraction?
As if on cue, shouts could be heard in the north end of the camp. The prison guards turned their attention in that direction. Suddenly fires began to erupt in some of the tents in the disrupted area. More yells could be heard and briefly a white object came into view.
The centaurs in the prison yard looked eagerly at the commotion. It wasn’t until cries could be heard at the gate that they knew someone was attempting a rescue. They crowded forward and peered at the fighters. Their guards were trying to hold off a vicious dwarf (as soon as he began fighting, he returned to his original form) and a raging minotaur. They looked at each other in consternation. Who was trying to rescue them, and why?
The guards were cut down or frozen in mid-stride. The minotaur slashed the gate’s hinges and threw it open. “Go!” he ordered.
The centaurs held back reluctantly.
“Hurry!” growled Zylor.
Finally one centaur stepped forward. He had a proud stature and determination and wisdom in his eyes. “Who are you? And why do you save us?”
“This is no time for questions, fool!” growled the minotaur. “Run!”
“Tell me,” demanded the centaur.
Zylor growled at the stubborn beast. “I am Zylor, son of Trogor. Perenia has enlisted my aid. Now go! I will not be responsible for your inaction!”
The centaur, upon hearing Perenia’s name, gasped in surprise. “My daughter?! My daughter has sent you?!”
“Zylor!” cried Harran.
The minotaur sprang to the dwarf’s aid and yelled back over his shoulder, “She’s here, centaur, saving your lazy hide!”
The centaur was unfazed by the minotaur’s insulting behaviour. He raised his arm and yelled, “Hail to my Daughter, who delivers us from the grasp of death!” He charged for the gate’s opening, followed by his cheering warriors.
Meanwhile, Harran was fighting for his life. Even with Zylor beside him and his magical axe in motion, he was hard pressed. Goblins were everywhere, and mercenaries were pressing in among the slimy green characters.
“Just like the old days, eh, Harran?” said Zylor. He swung his axe in an unusual arc and sliced three goblins in half. Harran could tell the lessons Sherman had given the minotaur were at work here.
“This is a little more difficult,” said Harran through clenched teeth. He swung his ice axe and chopped one goblin in half while freezing the arms of two others. They ran screaming to the safety of the tents.
Suddenly a charge of centaurs crashed into the ranks of the enemies surrounding the rescuers, giving them a moment to catch their breath.
They didn’t have to wait long for more action. A phalanx of rock trolls came their way, waving menacing axes and battle hammers.
&
nbsp; “Here we go again,” sighed Harran. He lifted his axe, which he had been leaning on, and swung it back over his shoulder in preparation for the attack. Much to his surprise, the attack never came. In swinging his axe in proximity to the trolls, he had inadvertently turned them all into frozen statues.
“It looks like they’re not used to the cold,” commented Zylor.
“I’m glad,” panted the dwarf.
Della touched another arrow tip to Frosty’s horn. It lit into flame and she loosed it at another tent. The tent was dry and the flame quickly engulfed it. Frosty’s magic allowed her arrows to exit the shield, but no arrows or magic could enter. The elf looked back at the wave of destruction behind her. Many enemies chased after the offending trio but were soon outdistanced. Magic erupted in front of them but the fireball bounced harmlessly off Frosty’s shield. Another hit from behind and rolled into a tent entrance. Within moments it was aflame, sending its occupants scurrying out of their shelter into the chaos outside. Della laughed at their antics.
Perenia looked up at her rider. “Aren’t you out of arrows yet?”
“Nope,” said Della. She pulled another arrow out of her full quiver, lit it using Frosty’s horn, and sent it into another tent.
“The prisoners are free,” said Frosty.
“We should help them escape!” cried Perenia, changing course for the prison yard.
Della clung precariously to her back for a moment before regaining her balance. She laughed gleefully. This was such fun! Too bad Kazin wasn’t here. Where was he, anyway?
Sherman and Rubin wondered the same thing as they fought their way through some goblins to aid the dwarf and minotaur.
“There!” cried Rubin, pointing. The dwarf was just ahead, and Zylor was by his side. The trolls they were facing were frozen in mid-stride.
The sailor and warrior joined the two axe wielders.
“Are you guys O.K.?” asked Sherman.
“Yeah,” said Harran. “Just tired.”
“Let’s pull back,” said Rubin. “We did what we were supposed to do.”
Kazin's Quest: Book I of The Dragon Mage Trilogy Page 48