by Travis Peck
The meal was over all too quickly. Both men were hesitant to act. Each man prayed to the Giver for some event to save them before they had to commit themselves to a potentially fatal course of action.
Gazing out between the vent slats, the scene before them remained the same—or mostly the same. Instead of roaming around the village, the groups were now stationary. Leaning with their backs against the stone wall that surrounded the town’s well, the creatures seemed to prefer shade to sunlight and had positioned their bodies where the small wall cast its shadow. The three groups were picking out spots to rest, or so it appeared to the young healer.
His hopes rose as he saw ravinors sitting, leaning, or lying down wherever they could, depending upon where their new flocks chose to gather. Hossen leaned forward to get a better look, and Lerius knew that the innkeeper had noticed the same thing he had. This could work perfectly! he thought.
Two of the three flocks were out in plain sight: one group was by the well, and the other was down at the edge of the town to the north. There was a stable there that provided plenty of shade between it and the street. The door of the stable must have been locked, or else he would have assumed that they would have gone inside the large building to feast on the equine flesh within.
“Wait,” Lerius said. “Why aren’t they inside the barn? And where did the last flock go off to?” He felt his concern grow as he frantically searched through the small vent. As he attempted to find sight lines down alleys to search for the missing flock, he thought of what possible reason the ravinors had for behaving the way they were. He wished he could ask Mon Lyzink for advice. Whatever livestock was kept in the stables should have been a tempting treat to the ravinors. An easy meal.
“I think they’re baiting us,” Hossen said, his voice in a low whisper.
Lerius wasn’t sure if the man had meant for him to hear his guess, or if he was just musing to himself. He answered anyway: “Ravinors? Baiting?” Lerius was incredulous at first but seeing them out in the daylight was forcing him to reassess everything he thought he knew about the creatures.
“Look.” Hossen pointed out the two visible groups. “They’re perfectly placed to keep on eye on my inn. See—that group at the well can watch us and remain under shade, while the other group at the edge of the village has good coverage of anyone trying to leave.”
“What about to the south?”
“The south? It’s no good to escape that way. There are deep ravines and cliffs that we’d have to traverse. It opens up that way eventually, but right outside of Deepbrooke, it’s nearly impassable. I know I wouldn’t wish to attempt it, even considering our present circumstances.”
“So, the missing group is trying to flush us out?” Lerius asked, not entirely convinced but still intrigued.
“I think so. A few ravinors did try to get up here when you were delirious with fever. And remember the one that came sniffing around as you were regaining consciousness? They eventually went away, but perhaps they remember that there were some noises, or maybe some scents, coming from up here,” Hossen explained, not taking his eyes from the two flocks.
Lerius was conflicted. Holding the bridge of his nose tightly, he clenched his eyes shut; it was an old method he used that helped him focus on a solution to a difficult problem. Of course, the last time he had done it he was only risking poor marks on an exam, not risking his life—and the life of another—if he chose poorly. Glancing back to the corner where the jars filled with lamp oil were, he asked, “Is there any other way to get out of here? The vent is too small, of course, but with the likelihood of ravinors waiting for us down below, I would just as soon not go down there if we can avoid it.”
Hossen’s eyes brightened, and he whispered in excitement, “There is another way! I boarded up a window on the south side here. There were squirrels and other pests that were getting in through a small crack. I kept meaning to get a new one, but I just ended up sealing it and putting that shelf in front of it.” The innkeeper walked over to the area where the shelf stood so he could inspect their potential escape route.
The healer found a new sense of hope, then he sobered as he thought of all the noise it would make to rip out those boards. Any ravinors that were inside the inn would come running toward the sound of splintering wood, posthaste. There was also the large shelf to consider. Moving it would scrape against the floorboards as they slid it out of the way so that they could access the boarded-over window. Neither task suggested that a stealthy approach was possible.
“Didn’t you use a ladder to get us up here?” Lerius asked.
“Yes,” Hossen replied. “I brought it up here with us so the ravinors wouldn’t be able to use it.” He grinned.
If—when—they made noise while clearing out the boarded up window, and if there were ravinors waiting for them down in the inn, the creatures might not be able to reach the trap door. He doubted if they had the intelligence to find something that would extend their reach. He returned the innkeeper’s grin.
Hossen managed to carefully and quietly pry loose one of the boards, revealing a smudged and begrimed pane of glass. It allowed them to see enough to scout out their potential escape route. Peering over Hossen’s shoulder, Lerius saw that the pitch of the roof was shallow enough to climb, and, most fortunately, there was an old cart parked under the eaves. He guessed that they could hop down from the roof to the cart—if not with ease—it still looked possible.
Lerius paused on the verge of speech, his mind unable to grasp onto his intended words as he realized he had heard a floorboard shifting below. He shot his hand up to forestall the innkeeper from speaking. He stared down as if his gaze could penetrate the solid planks underfoot to determine the source of the noise. He heard the sound again and looked to his companion. Hossen’s ashen face was proof that they had heard the same sound.
A few more creaks, then a cacophony of footfalls resounded from below as the creatures abandoned any further attempt at stealth in favor of a mad rush to find the humans. Neither man moved in the attic as they heard the muffled vocalizations from the ravinors beneath them. Hossen’s eyes were wide—his own were too. His heart raced while he drew in deep breaths, enough to make him feel light-headed. The footsteps grew closer and closer.
Lerius could imagine the scene below, even if he could not see it. He guessed it was the missing flock that was beneath them, having searched out the rest of the inn. Now, unable to find their quarry out in the open, the creatures paced to and fro. A sudden ravinor bark broke out; it was quickly taken up by the others. So much for planning. They must have our scent now.
Both men exchanged a look. Now that there was no chance of concealment, they rushed over to the shelf and heaved it out of the way. Empty jars and pots clattered and crashed to the floor. The ravinors quieted for a moment at the sound above, then redoubled their barking and hooting. Lerius smashed the leg off an old bar stool and used the appendage as a makeshift lever to pry against the boards covering the window. Hossen followed suit, and the two men worked at a furious pace. Each man spared just enough of their attention to listen to the terrible sounds echoing from the floor beneath them. It sounded like the ravinors had discovered the trapdoor and were now moving furniture to reach it.
Without the need to speak, they ceased their assault on the boards closing up the window and hauled the shelf across the floor to cover the trap door. Once it was in place, they began to pile anything and everything they could get their hands on that would add to the weight. Not a moment after they were done, they heard a thumping from below and could see the trapdoor jump a hair as it was pushed upward slightly.
Racing back to the window, Lerius prayed to the Giver that they would have enough time to get out before the ravinors were able to push into the attic. The wood was old but had been wedged and secured tightly into place. Under normal circumstances the task would have taken much longer to complete, but fear drove the men to work at a feverish pace and soon the window was uncovered. As Hossen
was about to smash the window with a stool leg, Lerius stopped him with an urgent hand signal.
“We need to burn it,” Lerius told the innkeeper.
His eyes widened slightly but nodded. “It does me no good now. I don’t serve ravinors,” Hossen said, then he laughed as only the severely stressed could.
Lerius chortled, sharing the laughter and the stress.
The vases holding the lamp oil were heaved atop the pile weighing down the trapdoor. The distinctive sound of shattering earthenware filled the attic, and the smell of the pungent oil permeated the closed space. Lerius stood next to the window, waiting to smash through it once Hossen ignited the oil. The innkeeper took a few turns striking at the flint, his hand visibly shaking. The spark caught on the fourth attempt, and the lamp oil went up with a great whoosh, forcing him to lurch away from the conflagration.
The healer flinched at the sudden flames, but he recovered and made short work of the window. The glass shattered. He ran the stool leg over the frame to knock off any jagged remnants of glass that remained attached to the sill. It wouldn’t do to have a nice trail of blood for the ravinors to follow. Turning back to the now roaring fire, he heard the anguished cries of pain. Lerius didn’t think that there would be many of the creatures that could survive the flames and still be able to give chase.
The fire was spreading fast and smoke was now filling the attic, making it impossible to breathe. Lerius wriggled through the opening first and took in a relieved breath as he entered the fresh air; Hossen did likewise. Smoke now billowed out from the opened window and rose into the sky, sending a beacon to anyone—ravinor or human—in the area. Lerius did not suspect there would be any of the latter near Deepbrooke.
Lerius’s breeches burned as he slid down the tiled roof as fast as he was able. He did not hesitate at the eaves and jumped onto the cart. It was at the far range of what his legs could handle without sustaining certain injury, and he braced himself against the harsh, jarring impact. He grunted in pain, but he was down. Lerius scrambled out of the back of the cart to give Hossen room to make the leap next. As soon as he was clear, Hossen followed behind him, crashing down onto the cart and letting out a pained grunt.
He wanted to get away from the burning inn as quickly as possible. Lerius could not fight the feeling that the other flocks were making their way to the inn now that their trap was sprung. Hossen took the lead now. He was much more familiar with the layout of the town and knew what path to take to keep the buildings and other cover between themselves and the ravinors. They paused briefly at the corner of the building closest to the inn and peered out onto the street. Sure enough, they saw ravinors rushing down the street toward the fire. They ducked back behind cover, fearful of hearing any cries of discovery. There were none.
Hossen counted down from three on his fingers, and when his hand clenched into a fist, the two men sprinted the few yards to the closest building. Once again, they paused as they waited for any indication of pursuit, and Giver be praised, there was nothing. The fire was serving its purpose as a distraction, and with any luck, had killed the flock inside the inn. But that still left two other flocks to contend with. They had to get away from Deepbrooke before the other ravinors realized what had happened, so they kept furtively traversing the distance between buildings; they were ever mindful of any figures rushing by on the street, and they kept their heads craned in the direction of the inn.
Finally, they reached the stables at the end of the main street that ran through Deepbrooke. The door was locked, as Lerius had suspected it was, but there was a window they could climb through on the north side that was facing away from the inn, or so Hossen had informed him. Perfect, Lerius thought. The horses were still there, though certainly spooked. The ravinors must have eaten their fill earlier and hadn’t bothered to expend the effort needed to feast on the horseflesh within. Then he saw the window. It would be a tight fit. One of them would have to be boosted up to the small opening. That was likely what had saved the horses’ lives.
Lerius volunteered to lift the innkeeper up, once more thankful that his companion had not succumbed to the temptations of sampling too much from the table he kept. As Lerius was not fully recovered from the fever, Hossen’s wiry frame allowed him to hoist the older man up. Looking up while Hossen wobbled on top of his shoulders, he saw the window was slightly ajar, so they wouldn’t have to break it. He cringed as Hossen pulled it open, and the seldom-used hinges squealed mightily. It was too late to do anything about the noise. Without the horses, they would be done for. At least they were out of plain sight from the inn where the two flocks were, or they would have been spotted immediately.
“Go!” Lerius ordered the innkeeper as loudly as he dared.
Hossen squirmed into the opening and wormed himself inside. A crash, followed by a muffled curse, marked the innkeeper’s successful ingress. This was by far the most nerve-racking part of their escape. All he could do was wait. There was no way he could get in through the window to help, and the door was still locked. He imagined the two flocks sprinting toward the stables after hearing the poorly oiled hinges opening and the following crash inside. There was nothing for it but to wait for Hossen.
Inside the stable, he could hear a horse neigh and knew that his companion was saddling them. That was the easy part. Hossen would have to find something to use to break through the wide barn door’s heavy lock from the inside or they were doomed.
Not being able to stand the inactivity any longer, Lerius crept over to the front edge of the stable and cautiously leaned his head around the corner.
The street’s clear! he thought, elated. He saw the inn burning at the far end of the street, but no ravinors were anywhere in sight. Lerius had to suppress a triumphant shout at their stroke of good luck. He jumped as he heard a loud crash from the inside of the stable. He saw the front door bulge outward for a moment as Hossen began to work at getting the door open.
That was loud. He risked another glance now, but the street was still empty.
A thought sent icy chills down his spine: What if they were following our scent? Lerius leapt up and raced to the back of the stable. This time, as he peered around the corner, he saw a group of figures loping and darting along behind the buildings. He leaned back out of sight and took a deep, calming breath. Then he sprinted back toward the large stable doors.
“Hossen! They’re coming!” he whispered forcefully next to the door. The pounding stopped on the other side as the innkeeper must have heard his warning. There was no sense being quiet now. Finding the most dilapidated board on the door, he wedged the stool leg underneath it and heaved with all his might. It cracked a few hands from the ground. He did it again to the board next to it, even as Hossen pounded at the backside of the latch. He knew what he was doing wouldn’t get the horses out, but right now, he desperately wanted to be inside the stable. And perhaps, with the two of them inside, they might be able to pry open the door faster.
Lerius did not dare waste the precious time it would take to further enlarge the hole. Instead, he scrabbled on the ground and squeezed inside. He felt skin tear as he forced himself through the opening. He just managed to fit. Barely. As he stood up, he heard the ravinors coming closer. Luckily, the creatures were on the back of the stable where the window was the only possible entry. He raced over to it and climbed up on a stack of hay. He slammed the window shut and latched it.
That might earn them a few precious moments of time as the ravinors would try—and fail—to get in that way. Jumping off the haystack, he ignored the pain in his knees from the impact. His adrenaline would not let him feel minor injuries. Not yet. He rushed over to help Hossen. Wedging his stool leg behind the lock, along with the innkeeper who was using a long-handled shovel, they both heaved as one. The plate groaned and gave ever so slightly but not nearly enough. This isn’t going to work! Lerius screamed inside his head. Frantically scanning around the stable for any other idea, it struck him suddenly.
“The hors
es!” Lerius shouted to Hossen.
The innkeeper stared blank-faced for a breath but caught on to what Lerius was thinking.
Grabbing a coil of rope, Lerius tied it to the latch and then around the saddle horn of Hossen’s mount. He grabbed another coil and did the same thing; this time bringing it around to his own mount that Hossen had already saddled.
The snarling and pounding coming from underneath the window was more than enough impetus to motivate the horses to action.
Lerius counted down, “Three. Two. One!” On “one,” both men urged their mounts backward. The door creaked and creaked, then suddenly the latch, along with some wood, tore away from the rest of the door. The large stable doors swung gently open with a ragged gash where the lock and plate had once been.
Quickly, Lerius and Hossen removed the ropes from the saddle horns. Lerius steered his mount over to a barrel by one of the stalls that held some tools inside. From the back of his horse, he grabbed two handles and tossed one to Hossen. They didn’t have time to sort through the tools to find the best impromptu weapons. He had grabbed a hoe and had tossed Hossen a rake. There was no time to think now.
Both men kicked their heels firmly into their mounts’ sides. They didn’t have stirrups on, but the horses needed little prodding. They knew as well as their riders did that there was danger close by.
Lerius burst through the opening and out onto the street. A ravinor rushed at him from the corner of the barn to his right. Without having time to think, he swung the hoe with all his might.
Crunch.
The hoe was almost ripped from his grasp as the end of the blade stuck in the neck of the attacking ravinor. Blood pumped out of the creature’s neck with each beat of its heart. Lerius heard a roar as he wrenched the hoe back under control. It took a moment before he realized that he was the one who was screaming. The ravinor fell to the ground and Lerius kicked his mount to a gallop. His horse stumbled as a ravinor managed to claw at its haunches, but the scared beast kept its legs pumping. Keeping his head low, Lerius turned to see Hossen right beside him and urging his own mount onward.