For Whom the Bell Trolls: Hands of the Highmage, Book 1

by D. H. Aire

  #

  At the sight of her scout, who signing at her, Mistress Ky’los turned, “Set down the girls!”

  Mahr swallowed as Za’an and scores of other stared.

  “Hold up the line!” Mistress Ky’los.

  “But we’re so close to reaching the wagons!” one of Mahr’s year-mates protested.

  Mistress Ky’los glanced back, signed, ‘Archers to the fore!’

  Nessa saw Hest’yr’s group suddenly stop. Her year-mate turned, saw how far back Yel’ane and their charges were, signed back, ‘Idiot! We’re about to be under attack! Get back to them and hide!’

  Chapter 7 – Great Waste

  :QUESTOR REQUESTING UPLINK:

  :UPLINK AVAILABLE.:

  ‘Questor to Assistant Engineer.’

  “Lawson here,” he replied, kneeling on the ground besides the construct. “It’s working, Greth, but this ‘line-of-sight’ stuff is going to make keeping in contact rough.”

  QUESTOR: ‘Position noted. Scanning… Reading indications of three enemy closing on your position.’

  “Um, thanks, Mother. Signing off.” He began hurriedly disassembling the construct. “Greth, we’ve, uh, got company.”

  His ten foot tall companion sniffed the wind, nodding, “I can smell them. I’ll be back in a moment.”

  “Uh, I can help.”

  “Lawson,” he replied to the dwarf troll, “I’ll leave the tech to you. While I’m gone, stay out of trouble.”

  Before Lawson could say another word, Greth bounded away, muttering to himself, “Help me? Hah.”

  Moments later, Lawson heard the goblins scream as they charged around the rocking outcropping fifty yards distant. Greth raced toward them and screamed back in a full throated roar. His long legged gait had him barreling through them, discolored metal broad sword slashing at them.

  The tenor of their screams instantly changed.

  Lawson was only half finished putting away his construct when the screams were, at last, cut off. He looked up as the last goblin fell to the ground, dead, about ten feet away. Well, that’s where his head fell at least. “Um, good work, Greth.”

  “Still think you can brave the world by yourself?” The Waste’s terrain was now showing signs of scraggly vegetation.

  He swallowed, unable to think of a good reply to that, as he dared look back at Greth, standing with his steaming green blooded dripping sword.

  “Lawson,” Greth said, smiling thinly. “I don’t question your courage, and admit I am surprised to find these creatures this far south. Things must be worse than we realized… Well, the Demonlord’s likely set more than these few scouts down here. So, if you really want me to turn back here, my friend, best of luck.”

  “More, uh, scouts?” Lawson almost croaked.

  Greth nodded, “Goblins weren’t waiting for a pair of trolls to appear.”

  But Mother ordered that I go alone… “I, uh, think your accompanying me a bit further wouldn’t hurt…”

  Greth smiled, which was only reassuring to another troll.

  #

  Nessa ran back as fast as she could, signing to Yel’ane, ‘Get down!’

  The sound of horses riding hard, rose to her left as Yel’ane crouched with the girls out of sight.

  Mistress Ky’los cried, “Loose!”

  Arrows arched upward as hard looking women, with bronze pointed spears, charged over the northern hills. The little girls screamed.

  Hest’yr shouted for quiet as she drew back to loose another arrow as several horses screamed in agony, pierced and toppling, bringing their riders down in the process. One rider, spear still in hand cleared her saddle in time, eyed Hest’yr and cast her spear.

  The impact sent Hest’ yr reeling and the girls shrieked as she hit the ground in their midst. A year-mate loosed an arrow, taking the brigand in the eye. The too young woman then dropped her bow and raced to her fallen friend.

  “Hest’yr!”

  There was a gurgling sound and blood fountained from Hest’yr’s lips. “Pro––tect the girls…” was all she managed to say before her gaze went dark and she stilled.

  “What are we going to do?” one of the seven-year-olds rasped.

  “Keep down,” the older girl said, retrieving her bow and grasping another arrow as riders cut them off from the rest of the line. “Girls! I need you to run… back the way we came. Nessa’s back there. Get to Nessa!”

  “What?” another girl cried.

  Another sound seemed to rise around them. The wagons were racing toward the front of the line directly toward Mistress Ky’los. “Go, or die here!” the older girl cried, loosing arrow after arrow as her fellow year-mates desperately did the same. One falling as a brigand’s arrow struck her down.

  The little girls around her rose and ran off screaming.

  #

  Nessa raised her bow, “Oh, that’s wonderful.”

  Yel’ane shouted, “Over here!”

  Nessa let fly arrow after arrow as over a half a dozen little girls raced toward them as Cathartan arrows brought down several of the nearest brigands, while over shafts whizzed past. Moments later Nessa was out of arrows and the frightened girls were huddling around Yel’ane.

  Hair flying loose, four glaring women, swords drawn surrounded them. “We should kill you girl,” one said to Nessa. “But you’re worth more alive.”

  She swallowed hard and dropped her now useless bow. As they were led away, they heard a cry and Nessa saw… she winced.

  #

  “Mistress Ky’los!” the scout yelled.

  “I see!” she shouted back as the wagon drivers threw back their hoods and tossed aside the drover cloaks, drawing back hard on their reins only to retrieve their bows and quivers from behind their seats and loose arrows at the brigands.

  Brigands gaped at the women firing upon them as a score were unhorsed or struck by multiple shafts. “Mistress!” the closest woman atop a wagon cried, “We need to get out of here before they can rally!”

  The older woman turned to give the order when a brigand’s arrow took her in the chest, knocking her to the ground.

  “Mistress Ky’los!” the scout cried, knowing the wound was fatal as the nearest girls cried out her name as well.

  “Get…” Ky’los rasped, “get them… to safety, Bek’ka.”

  “I swear I will, Mother.”

  The older woman’s eyes went blank.

  “The girls and wounded on the wagons!” Bek’ka yelled as she rose, drawing her bow and grabbing an arrow from her quiver, she aimed and loosed toward the source of the shaft that had slain her mother.

  #

  “What?” the graying haired brigand leader muttered, cursing, lowering her bow. “Damn them to the darkest pit of the Lord of Demons!”

  “Where did they come from?” her second cried, staring as girls were hastily loaded on the wagons.

  “They thought to betray us in turn!” their leader rasped as a shaft whistled past her. “Fall back!”

  The brigands fell back in all haste, seeing their prizes escaping.

  “Fan out! I want no more surprises from these treacherous bitches… And, send a runner to the caverns. It’s time to loose ––”

  “You can’t mean that…”

  The woman glared back, “You heard me… Oh, be sure to keep that charm you wear handy. You wouldn’t want to be eaten accidentally.”

  #

  Mahr was more than happy to unsling the frightened little girl from her back and pass her aboard the wagon. “Za’an, do you see Nessa?”

  “No, but she’s likely boarding one of those wagons over there.”

  Mahr frowned, uncertain, knowing that in this chaos anything was possible. No, Nessa, was smart, even if irritating, she was certainly safe.

  “I’m hungry,” a little one cried.

  “Oh, for all the…” Mahr muttered.

  Za’an shook her head, “Soon, they’re will be something to eat. Here, Mahr,” she added, passing another ch
ild up to her.

  Less than a half hour later, the wagons were heading off to the southeast toward the distant Caravan Road. In the lead wagon, the woman, who now was in charge, rode next to the driver, one of her best scouts.

  There were cries from the wounded and terribly frightened littlest girls. “We’ve made a hash of things, haven’t we?”

  Her fellow scout shook her head, “We were given the most northern route. We feared treachery and planned for it.”

  “At what price?”

  “They’ve more dead than we…”

  “Did you hear our numbers?”

  “Aye,” she replied, not wanting to think about Ky’los’ body among their number. “Those girls knew what they were about.”

  “We’re missing at least a dozen…”

  “Doubtless we’ll lose more along the way.”

  “But you are not the one who will have to explain that to Mother Shaman De’ohr, their mothers, and sisters,” the woman replied, not daring to mention Sire Ryff, who, by now, was dead or dying. The price of our freedom, she supposed.

  Chapter 8 – Badlands

  Hands tied behind their backs, Nessa and Yel’ane were shoved along a twisting path, the dozen seven and eight-year-olds captured along with them told to keep quiet if they knew what was good for them.

  After hours of walking, and after Ani’ya complained of sore feet, which earned her a ride on one of the horses, stripped naked and tied down like a sack of potatoes, none of the other girls offered further complaint.

  “It’ll be all right,” Nessa whispered to gently sobbing Ani’ya as they paused for a rest.

  The girl nodded, her tears blinding her, hoping the lie was true.

  Yel’ane glanced at Nessa, who winced.

  #

  An hour or two later, Nessa no longer was certain they came upon the brigand’s ramshackle encampment. Stone walls surrounded what must once have been a fortress of some sort. The stones looked different where gaps in the walls had once existed. The open gate was of wood. There was a corral off to their right, where the brigands took their mounts.

  Smoke rose from within with encampment.

  Old women looked at them frowning from atop the walls, clearing seeing that not all had gone according to plan.

  Yel’ane glanced at Nessa as one of the brigands said to them, “Welcome to your new home.”

  #

  Looking through the brush of the hilltop, they saw the girls being shoved along. “This is none of our business.”

  Lawson glared back, pointing at the bound naked girl across the horse’s back. “You wanted to come along.”

  “These aren’t goblins.”

  “No, and those little girls certainly aren’t, either.”

  Greth sighed, “You think Mother would see you delay?”

  Shaking his head, Lawson replied, “I don’t know, too bad I can’t ask her right now.”

  Chuckling, Greth said, “How precisely do you suggest we help them? There are a lot of them and they are well armed.”

  Lawson grimaced, “I may be short for a troll, but I’m troll enough for this…”

  #

  “Get them cleaned up,” the leader ordered, “then bring them before the Court.”

  If Nessa, Yel’ane, or any of the girls thought this would be a good sign of things to come, they were mistaken. Ani’ya was unceremoniously unbound and dumped in the nearest water trough. She came up sputtering.

  “Drink up while you can, girl.”

  Ani’ya, eyes wide, gulped and was pulled out as Vi’ya and the other girls were ordered to strip and were soon tossed into the trough.

  A brigand looked at Nessa and Yel’ane, who found their bindings cut free. “Let’s see what we’ve got here,” she said to her watching fellows. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

  Nessa swallowed hard, rubbing her wrists, then disrobed; Yel’ane did as well.

  “Well, ain’t they pretty,” one woman said with some amusement, poking at Yel’ane’s bosom as she gasped.

  “Yeah, not quite ripe yet, but they’ll do,” another chuckled.

  Nessa paled, not daring to look at Yel’ane.

  “Not a total loss catching this lot,” another said, “get them shifts. We want them presentable for table tonight.”

  #

  As night fell, Lawson readied himself for their raid. Greth suddenly sniffed their air and drew his dagger, “Goblins upwind of us.”

  “Raiders? Any idea how many?”

  Frowning, Greth urged him to hunch lower.

  Torches were lit along the wall and the gate opened. “Hail, Lords of the Dark One! Come dine with us tonight!”

  Greth’s eyes widened, “I take it all back, Lawson. This is our business.”

  #

  “Nessa, what’s going to happen to us?” Vi’ya cried as the girls imprisoned with them gently sobbed, wearing what was little better than sack cloth that came to their ankles.

  The cloth was slitted in the back and came only to Nessa and Yel’ane’s knees. The brigand women had left when the put the cut side at their backs, but did not gainsay their choice before leaving all of them in this dank small cellar room, where straw covered the floor; barring the wooden door, which provided the light from the torch outside.

  “Vi’ya, I really don’t know.”

  “But they’ll rescue us!” Ani’ya almost stammered.

  Nessa hugged the girl close, “Of course, they will.”

  Sighing, Yel’ane doubted that, though, hoping their fate would be better than living their days in this foul place. Then again, she thought, staring at her bare feet, living in this foul room might be preferable to whatever those exiled Cathartan women had in mind for them.

  The girls huddled closer as Nessa repeated, “Of course, she will.”

  It seemed all too soon when the guards opened the doors, leveling daggers, “Dinner time.”

  #

  The brigand leader’s chair was set on a platform, but she was not sitting in it as Nessa, Yel’ane, and the girls were brought into the thatched roofed dining hall, which offered a great fire pit from which a goat was roasting.

  Nessa and Yel’ane were forced to their knees as the graying haired woman approached them. “You will not say a word –– unless you wish to lose your tongue… For what we need you for, you would do well enough without.”

  They glanced at each other hardly daring to breathe.

  “Our guests have arrived, My Lady,” an old woman announced, stepping aside.

  Two large cloaked figures entered the hall. Nessa frowned, realizing there was something odd about them.

  “Men?” Yel’ane whispered.

  Very ugly men, Nessa thought, uncertain, though she dared not reply as one of the women glared at Yel’ane.

  The girls trembled.

  “My lords, welcome once more to our humble home,” the brigand leader said, bowing.

  They made no move to lower their hoods, but turned to look first at Nessa, then the others.

  “I hope you find our offering pleasing,” the woman added.

  “Y…oung,” the shorter of the two replied.

  The sound of that word made both Nessa and Yel’ane visibly shiver and they were clearly not the only ones. The brigands looked ill at ease as well, and some of the girls could be heard sobbing.

  “They are fresh… picked, My Lord,” the woman replied.

  “L…ong… since… any… so… y… oung… offered.”

  “A House seems to have Shattered, My Lord, creating this opportunity.”

  “Sh…attered? Wh…ich?” the man demanded.

  “My Lord, I do not know… They sent a representative to broker our aid. We did not know the woman, but she brought us coin enough as down payment.”

  He strode up to Nessa, leaned over. She gasped at his fetid breath. “Wh..at… H…ouse?”

  Swallowing hard, she made no answer as the girls cried out.

  Without turning away from Nessa, he su
ddenly reached out at grasped Yel’ane by the throat and hefted her with ease. “Wh…at… H…ouse?”

  Yel’ane choked, unable to breathe, eyes wide as Nessa gave her a despairing glance; both knew she dared not reply. Yel’ane closed her eyes.

  “I snap… her… n…eck. An…swer?”

  The girls stared in horror, too frightened to even utter a word as they were given a good look at his other hand. It was knurled and he had claws, which he used to cut Yel’ane shift halfway done the center, drawing a thin line of blood.

  Yel’ane fainted as Nessa struggled with being forced to betray their House or watch her friend die. She lowered her head, knowing Yel’ane would die rather than betray.

  Ani’ya’s eyes wide, she cried, “Ryff! We are House of Ryff!”

  He loosed his grip and he dropped Yel’ane.

  “Ryff? Y…ou… are… Ryff’s… get?”

  Ani’ya, tears pouring, she nodded, “Yes, yes, Milord.”

  He turned to his fellow, who came up to Ani’ya, “This… one… join… us… at… table, too.”

  “Huh?” Ani’ya muttered.

  Two women grabbed both the now gasping Yel’ane, and gaping Ani’ya, and dragged them to the dinner table. Then thrust them on the table at the places of honor, as others tied them down at hands and feet. Nessa wasn’t certain who screamed the louder at the very sight.

  The brigands jerked open not only Nessa’s mouth, but all the other girls as they brought up their daggers. Their screams instantly stopped as the pair of hulking figures turned toward the table and the squealing Ani’ya and the now rasping Yel’ane.

  The brigands feigned indifference.

  “Did… Second…son… flee… with…you?” the shorter of the pair demanded of Nessa, setting his own clawed hand upon Ani’ya’s stomach.

  Nessa clamped her mouth shut, eyes going rounder at the realization he knew about Vyss; knew of their House.

  The goblin smiled and turned to look down at Ani’ya, his clawed fingers gently rending the fabric of the shift, pausing at her neck. “Is… boy… close?” he asked her.