Erich's Plea: Book One of the Witchcraft Wars

by Tracey Alley

began walking; still checking the corridor, back to the large study where they had left the others. He had observed Lara and Wulfstan enter the second to last door but they had not yet come out.

  Knowing, as he now did, that it was not the prisons storeroom, Tares wondered what could be taking the two of them so long in a room that was obviously not their objective. The minotaur wondered if possibly the fleeing guards had hidden in that room and had somehow managed to overpower both Lara and Wulfstan, although he had heard no sounds of battle. However, if they had surprised the fleeing guards then both Lara and Wulfstan could easily be dead and their killers waiting in the room, hoping someone would come to look for the warrior and the halfling.

  Briefly he thought about going back to check that the warrior and the halfling woman were all right, but they were running out of time. They had to use the bolt hole and get out of the prison as soon as possible before they encountered even more of the guards. Tares had vowed to stay with Slade and search for the missing King Erich and if that meant leaving Lara and Wulfstan behind he was prepared to make that sacrifice. After all it was the way of Belenus, the Crying God demanded absolute sacrifice from all for the greater good. However, there was nothing in the tenets of Belenus that said Tares had to like what he had to do.

  When Tares and Roulibard re-entered the governor’s study they saw that Darzan was sitting idly in one of the overstuffed chairs gazing out the window while Slade and Nikolai were carefully going through the room. Tares noted at once the slumped set to the young prince’s shoulders and knew that Slade’s exhaustion must be extreme. The minotaur cleric found that he greatly admired the determination of the former prince, who was obviously pushing himself to keep up with the group.

  “Sounds like you had some trouble out there,” Darzan said.

  “Where’s the others?” Slade cut in before Tares could answer Darzan, “We need to get moving before the guards come back. We’ve probably wasted too much time as it is,” he continued.

  “It was decided that it would be quicker to separate,” Tares said gravely.

  “Is the halfling dead?” Nikolai asked, sounding all too eager to Tares' ears.

  “She and Wulfstan should be here any moment” Tares answered. Looking at the necromancer he thought to himself that for some reason Nikolai would like it very much if Lara were dead. Tares just wished he knew why Lara was so unnerving to the necromancer.

  “No idea,” Roulibard said almost as though he were answering the big minotaur’s thoughts. The young mage then took the items he had collected and gave them to Slade saying, “I'm pretty sure these are some of the missing items, but whatever’s still missing will have to stay missing.”

  “We’ll wait a few minutes; at least while we sort through this gear.”

  At that Slade began going through the items Roulibard had found.

  “You found my katanas,” Slade whispered picking up the beautiful blades. The pair of katanas had been a gift from Slade’s father, High King Erich, the day Slade began his training with the warrior monks of the Black Lotus. Giving them up to his captors had hurt Slade immensely and he was incredibly glad they had not been lost to him forever. After inspecting them closely, Slade replaced them carefully into their stiffened leather sheaths. Standing up Slade shrugged into the matching leather brace and turning around, asked Roulibard to help him slip the two sheaths into their designated holders on his back. Once the brace was in place Slade could easily reach up and grab the two blades in a matter of seconds.

  Nikolai had gone back to rifling through the papers on the desk, while Tares stood in the doorway, trying to keep an eye both on the necromancer and the corridor. Out of the corner of his eye Tares thought he saw Nikolai take a piece of parchment and hide it away in his loose, leather pants. The big minotaur opened his mouth to question the necromancer, but shut it again, he could not be certain of what he had seen and Slade for whatever reason, seemed to trust Nikolai.

  Now, Tares regretfully concluded, was not the time to strain that relationship, but he would continue to watch Nikolai closely for signs of treachery. Despite what Lara had told them regarding Nikolai’s work in the Badlands Tares remained unconvinced that the necromancer was not in someway responsible for all of this; including the fate of Sir Patrick.

  A slight noise from behind made Tares turn back to the corridor to see Lara and Wulfstan walking quickly towards him.

  “They’re coming,” Tares announced to the room in general.

  “Pity,” Nikolai said quietly with a derisive snort. Tares scowled but chose to ignore the necromancer; instead, he gestured to Wulfstan and Lara to hurry.

  “What took you so long?” Tares questioned Lara as they came into the room.

  “We found some great gear, not that I think it belongs to anyone here,” Lara began and then spotted the pile of belongings, “but it looks like you found what you were looking for anyway. We didn’t see any of the guards but I still think we should use the bolt hole and get out of here; we can look through all the stuff we found when we’re in the tunnel. There’s a place, about three, maybe four hundred feet into the tunnel, it’s an open area, like a cave almost so if you’re all finished, let’s go.”

  “We were merely waiting for you Lara,” Slade said, “Wulfstan your armor is there although Roulibard was unable to find your sword. Just grab it for now and we’ll kit you up once we’re in the tunnel.”

  Into the Bolthole

  The wide staircase leading down had been well crafted and was designed so that they could travel two abreast. Slade and Wulfstan took the lead, with Lara and Trunk immediately behind them, Darzan slipped in beside Roulibard, while Tares and Nikolai took the rear. Tares noted with a small smile that Lara was holding Trunk's hand and almost jogging to keep up with the long stride of the half-troll.

  “I wish we’d been able to disguise that we came down here,” Slade whispered, although his voice echoed in the confined space.

  “No need to worry about it,” Lara assured him, “they’ll never follow us, at least not too far.”

  “Trunk go home now?” The creature’s low rumble managed to sound plaintive, and even vulnerable.

  “Yes,” Lara replied her tiny hand giving his oversized hand a squeeze, “we’re all going home now, sort of anyway.”

  They walked in silence for the next twenty minutes, the smooth cut stone walls eventually giving way to reinforced hard packed dirt. Obviously they had passed beyond the boundary of the prison complex. With that marker behind them, the tension level of the group, barely noticeable before, began to drop considerably. Slade couldn’t help but feel amazed; they had achieved the impossible, escaped the infamous Diablis prison.

  He was still concerned about the possibility of their being followed; the idea of Diablis's guards creeping up behind them was not really something Slade wanted to contemplate. He would simply have to trust Lara and hope her solution would come soon. Even though it was barely three hours past the dawn Slade was completely exhausted, his two months in Diablis prison had left him in very bad shape and the morning’s events had zapped what little strength he possessed. Slade glanced surreptitiously at Wulfstan beside him; the soldier was equally exhausted and it was obvious to Slade that only stubborn pride was giving Wulfstan the strength to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

  Wulfstan had been Slade’s childhood companion, his and Ursula's. The soldier had been an orphan adopted by King Erich and Queen Urda so Wulfstan had grown up in the palace. The King and Queen had raised Wulfstan like another son, giving him all the same advantages as their natural children. Slade knew how much his father had thought of Wulfstan, how Erich had loved him as if he were his son, and how much Wulfstan had loved his father.

  Suddenly Slade felt guilty for his outburst in the prison. He knew that the big warrior would never have willingly put his father in danger.

  “Wulfstan,” Slade began, “I'm sorry about before, what I said,
I just…” he trailed off.

  “Don’t apologize Slade, you were right,” Wulfstan said tiredly, “I let him down. But I will find a way to make this right, I swear that to you.”

  “I know. But it’s not just you and me, it’s all of us, we’re in this together. Whoever is behind this will rue the day they declared war on Saxenburg.”

  “You really believe all that, what the halfling and the necromancer said?”

  “Yes, I do. My own imprisonment was too bizarre, too well orchestrated to have been a mere coincidence. I also have my own reasons for trusting Nikolai, and Trunk.” Slade hesitated but eventually decided against sharing his dream with anyone at this stage, he wasn’t sure Wulfstan would find it comforting.

  “I hope you’re right Slade, I really hope you’re right.”

  “This is it,” Lara said, after another ten minutes walking.

  “What is it?” Slade asked looking around.

  “The reason we don’t have to worry about anyone following us, everybody get behind me.” Once everyone was positioned to her satisfaction Lara walked to one of the wooden beams, which seemed to Slade's eyes to be identical to every other wooden beam they had passed. Kneeling down Lara touched something near the floor and then jumped back. As soon as Lara’s fingers had touched whatever trigger had been hidden in the