Erich's Plea: Book One of the Witchcraft Wars

by Tracey Alley

Lara tried to ascertain where the noise was coming from. Lara faced one of the earthen walls and saw a tiny crack forming in one of the heavy wooden support beams holding up the roof of the tunnel. That was the sound she had heard. The cracking sounds of the wood, giving way under the pressure of hard packed dirt that had been rapidly exposed to intense heat followed by icy water. The earthen structure was beginning to collapse; they had to get out of here and fast.

  “Um, Tares,” Lara began in a whisper, not taking her eyes off the small crack, which was widening even as she watched.

  “Tares, we really need to get outta here,” Lara tried again, forcing herself to speak normally.

  “Lara, I cannot concentrate if you interrupt me, now please…” Tares admonished the halfling woman.

  “But Tares,” Lara interrupted, although she knew the minotaur priest needed quiet to concentrate properly she could see clearly that the threat of the tunnel’s collapse was imminent.

  “Lara, please, I need to concentrate so you must wait until I have finished,” Tares said with more irritation than he had ever shown her before.

  Since his accidental and out of control act of magic Roulibard had been trying to stay very much in the background but he was caught by the urgency in Lara’s voice. Following her gaze on the opposite wall Roulibard soon spied the widening crack in the support beam and instantly understood the urgency of the situation.

  “Tares, we’ve got a real problem here,” Roulibard said as he moved towards the minotaur priest.

  “Yes we have a critically injured man and others with severe burns and I need to concentrate in order to heal them, which I cannot do if I am continually interrupted,” Tares answered brusquely.

  “No Tares, I mean we have another problem,” the young mage grabbed Tares by the arm and forced him around to face the cracking support beam, “we’ve all got to get out of here now, this thing could come down any second.”

  Tares turned, annoyed, but finally saw what Lara and Roulibard had been trying to tell him. Looking around him wildly the minotaur priest noted that the beam Lara was watching so intently was not the only support beam beginning to crack. In an instant Tares understood what was happening. The superheated flames followed by icy water, all of which had hit that wall directly were turning the hard packed earth into a potential landslide, which would effectively bury them all alive. Glancing back at the still unconscious form of Wulfstan, the minotaur franticly searched his mind for an answer. Obviously they would all have to get out, not just of the clearing but clear the entire tunnel complex and it was essential they do so now. Wulfstan, however, could not walk, Trunk and Nikolai were both still badly burned and while he might be able to carry Wulfstan Tares knew he would never be strong enough to carry the soldier and run as well.

  “Trunk want out now, Trunk go home,” the big creature solved Tares’ problem by bending down and gently cradling the fallen Wulfstan in his arms.

  “Thank you Trunk,” Tares said gravely, once again astounded at the capacity for understanding exhibited by the ogre-troll, “everybody, we have to leave here immediately,” he continued only to be cut off by Lara.

  “He means run everyone. Run like your life depends on it, cause it probably does,” the halfling had not even finished speaking before she began streaking down the tunnel towards the exit. Immediately behind her was Trunk, holding Wulfstan carefully yet still maintaining a high speed. Darzan and Roulibard began running while Slade and Tares went to assist Nikolai, next to Wulfstan and Trunk he had sustained the most severe burns, and Tares had not yet been able to heal them all.

  “Leave me, I can manage, just run. We can’t be caught in here and you can’t afford to wait for me if I don’t make it,” Nikolai said harshly, “just go!” he yelled, brushing off both their offers of help to begin a staggering run of his own down the tunnel after the others.

  The flight out of the long tunnel was a nightmare. With three members of their group badly wounded and everyone exhausted each step forward was a minor miracle. Together they staggered, stumbling onwards, walking more often than running, propelled forward only by the continuing cracks in the support beams of the tunnel. Slade’s heart was pounding in his chest, his legs felt like molten lead and a stitch in his side was sending ripples of pain throughout his body. He longed to simply lie down and die and end the pain but he couldn’t. He was driven forward by love of, and fear for, his father, King Erich. Twice Slade had slipped, tripping under the weight of his own exhaustion, and twice someone had been there to drag him to his feet. Behind him Slade could hear the tunnel’s noisy collapse. Now they knew no one could be following them, Slade thought hysterically.

  After what felt like an eternity the cunningly disguised opening came into view. Just before the exit another largish clearing had been cut out of stone into a rough semi-circle. The stone walls meant they would be safe her for a while. Wulfstan’s burns were so severe they had incinerated all the clothes on his back. Trunk’s tough skin was still oozing and slimy from the flames. Slade fortunately had only minor burns on his hands and chest but Nikolai had severe burns on his face, arms, legs and chest, his overshirt was so badly burned it was stuck to his skin. How the mage had managed the long run out of the tunnel Slade had no idea.

  Tares, although much stronger than the escaping prisoners, still felt the weight of their flight in every one of his bones and wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep, preferably for a very long time. He was, however, the only healer among the group, he had seriously wounded that needed his prayers. Not to mention they would now have to find a way of replacing their damaged and lost equipment. Tares could see Slade’s exhaustion as the former crown prince slumped to the ground, his back to the cold stone.

  “Lara, I need to stay here and try to finish healing Wulfstan, Trunk and Nikolai but obviously we cannot stay within this tunnel any longer than absolutely necessary,” he began gravely watching the halfling woman.

  “Yeah, and once he’s walking again he can’t be walking around buck naked so I need to go out and get us some stuff,” Lara answered, panting slightly from the long run but still with an impish grin on her tiny face. Tares refrained, with difficulty, from reprimanding her at this time but that would not stop him from continuing to pray that Lara began taking her responsibilities a little more seriously.

  “Quite,” Tares said, “I need you and Darzan if you will go also,” Tares turned to the dark-skinned pirate and waited for her affirmative nod before continuing, “to go into the city and see if you can find us some clothes, food and equipment.”

  “Sure, where’s the gold?” Lara asked holding out her small hand.

  Tares almost cursed in sheer frustration, his money pouch had been with the rest of his belongings, now burnt to cinders in the clearing. Tares buried his face in his hands, he could not believe the position he had now found himself in, that he would have to order Lara to steal to resupply them, yet what choice did he have.

  “I’m afraid there is no gold Lara, you will have to…” Tares could not bring himself to say the words aloud.

  “It’s cool, bully, sorry, Tares, I was just teasing you, I’ve still got my money pouch,” Lara said smilingly showing off the leather pouch still around her neck.

  “Tares we have much bigger problems than money,” Darzan interrupted from where she was standing near the exit of the tunnel.

  “Problems?”

  “The festival, Tares. By my calculations,” Darzan paused to crane her head closer towards the tunnel exit, “we’re way past noon, which means the festival’s bound to be really getting started. I’m not sure if it will be possible to slip through the crowds unnoticed. By now someone’s bound to have figured out that a group of people escaped from the prison. Even if we can slip through the crowns and if no one knows about mine or Lara’s involvement, there’s not likely to be anyone around to help us, how did you put it? Re-provision us? I don’t think it’ll happen, not today an
yway and probably not tomorrow either. We’ll be better off holing up here or somewhere close and waiting it out for a while.”

  Nikolai heard Tares growl under his breath, the Festival of the Sun Ascension would logically be a sore point with the minotaur priest, devoted as he was to the Crying God, Belenus. The necromancer believed the festival would prove to be a valuable tool. That was actually the reason why Nikolai had hoped he would be able to orchestrate the prison break to coincide with the festival. They could not afford to wait any longer than was absolutely necessary but Darzan, the necromancer knew, was correct in her assessment of the merchant district. At this stage of the festival there would be no one tending the markets or street stalls to buy from, making Lara’s gold redundant.

  The idea of stealing their supplies did not bother Nikolai. In fact he saw a certain irony in having The Dark One’s lust, blood and alcohol fueled citizens pay to help them escape his clutches. Unfortunately Nikolai knew that Tares would not see the situation in the same light. Nikolai needed only to convince Tares, he was sure that Lara and Darzan, one a former assassin and the other a pirate, would have no problem with stealing what they required or with using the festival as a diversion while they escaped.