Felix shot him a look. “I thought you were the one who was urging us to go?”
Aethenir nodded his head. “It must be tried, if I am to remain on the path of honour, but we have no chance of success.”
“No wonder you’re a dying race,” muttered Gotrek.
Felix had to agree. “Perhaps we’d have a better chance if you put your great scholar’s mind to work on a solution instead of bemoaning our fate.”
The elf sniffed. “I shall think on it.”
“Well, don’t take too long,” said Felix. “Who knows how close we are to the Manaanspoort Sea.”
They fell silent as each began mulling the problem over in their heads. Mad ideas came to Felix—schemes out of the worst sort of melodrama.
They would wait until the slaver came back, then kill all his guards, dress Aethenir up in one of their uniforms, then deliver themselves to the high sorceress. No. Could even Gotrek kill eight armed guards barehanded? And even if he could, what were the odds the slaver would come back before the ark reached the Manaanspoort Sea?
They would fake their deaths so well that the overseer wouldn’t bother cutting their throats, and escape after they had been wheeled out with the other bodies. No. The overseer cut every corpse’s throat, regardless.
They would tell the overseer that Aethenir was a lore-master of Hoeth, who could tell the high sorceress secrets of Ulthuan’s magical defences if they brought him before her. No. Even if they were believed, the overseer would take Aethenir away and leave Gotrek and Felix behind.
Felix hung his head in despair. He could think of nothing. Aethenir was right. It was impossible. They had too little knowledge of what was outside their cell. There was no way to make realistic plans. They didn’t even know if they could get past the first three gates.
He looked up at Aethenir and Gotrek. They didn’t seem to be having any better luck. Aethenir just sat there, running his fingers through his filthy hair and murmuring over and over again. “I must stay on the path. I must stay on the path.”
Gotrek just stared ahead, his single eye blank and distant, cracking his knuckles absent-mindedly.
Felix sighed and sat back, closing his eyes, determined to go through it again. There had to be some way. There had to be.
Felix woke to Gotrek grunting and sitting up. He opened his eyes and looked around. Nothing appeared to have changed. The prisoners lay coughing and moaning and snoring on the ground as usual. There were no strange sounds from outside the cell. The key was not turning in the lock, and yet Gotrek was looking around, alert and awake.
“What’s happened?” Felix mumbled sleepily.
“The ark has stopped,” said Gotrek.
“Stopped?” said Felix. “How do you know?”
“Trust me, manling,” said Gotrek. “A dwarf’s stomach knows when a ship sails—and when it doesn’t.”
Felix’s heart dropped. “Then we’ve reached the Sea of Manann,” he whispered. “We’re out of time!”
On the other side of Felix, Aethenir raised his head. “What do you say? The ark has stopped?”
Gotrek nodded as he stood. “We must act now.”
Felix groaned but nodded, resigned. They had no choice.
Aethenir sat up and pushed the hair out of his eyes. “You assume much, dwarf. Can we be certain this is why we have stopped? It might be for another reason.”
“It might be,” said Felix, getting to his feet beside Gotrek. “But can we risk it if it isn’t? The sorceress might play the harp at any moment. We may already be too late.”
“But we still have no plan,” said the high elf, querulous. “It won’t work.”
“Then we will die gloriously,” said Gotrek, gathering his chains in his hands. “There are two hours to the evening feeding. We will go then, and fight until they kill us.”
Felix looked at him. “You’ll wait two hours?”
Gotrek looked towards the cell door. “It would take me more than two hours to get through that door with no tools, and they would stop me in two minutes. We have to wait.” He stood up sharply and the chain that connected his wrists to his ankles snapped like it was made of dry biscuit.
Aethenir sighed. “I had hoped for a chance to rectify my sin. This will only be pointless death.”
Gotrek glared at him as he strained to snap the chains between his wrists. “Better a pointless death than a life of shame.” The chains parted with a bright ping. He turned to Felix and broke his chains for him in a matter of seconds. “Tell Euler to bring his men and I’ll do the same for them.”
Felix nodded, but first he stood tall and stretched, raising his arms over his head. It felt glorious! Then he walked through the crowd and around the trough to the other side of the room. Taking long strides was another joy. He felt like he had been living like an old man for the last few days, hunched over and eating gruel. He felt more optimistic already.
Euler and some of his men were playing a game with pebbles and a circle scratched in the floor. The others slept or stared at the walls.
The balding pirate looked up at him as he approached, noting his dangling chains. “So it’s time then, Jaeger?”
“Yes,” said Felix. “We go when the cart comes again. Go to Gotrek and he’ll break your chains.”
Euler’s men cheered at this and started to stand. Felix was about to turn and go back to Gotrek when he paused and faced Euler again.
“Uh, Euler.”
“Aye?” said the merchant, struggling to his feet.
“Listen to me a moment,” said Felix. “The druchii sorceresses you fought. They have a weapon—the Harp of Ruin—a magical instrument that can raise and lower mountains. They mean to use it to close off the Manaanspoort Sea.”
“Eh?” said Euler. “What’s this?”
Some of his men were turning to listen.
“They’re going to raise the sea floor and block the mouth of the sea,” said Felix. “It will cause a tidal wave that will destroy Marienburg and possibly Altdorf, not to mention stop all ship trade.”
“Is this a joke, Jaeger?” said Euler. “Because I don’t find it amusing.”
Felix shook his head. “It’s no joke. It is the reason we tricked you into going after the sorceresses in the first place—to try to wrest it from them before they could use it.” He looked Euler in the eye. “They are going to use it now, unless we stop them. Will you help us? Will you fight with us to the top of the ark and find the sorceress and the harp?”
“What?” Euler snorted. “That’s suicide.”
“Yes,” said Felix.
Euler held up a hand and turned away. “Sorry, Herr Jaeger. No heroes here. We part at the harbour as planned.”
“Can you really stand by and watch Marienburg destroyed?” asked Felix angrily. “That is what will happen if the sorceress unleashes the power of the harp. Your city will be swept away. Your precious trading empire will be no more.”
Euler shrugged. “What will I care if I die helping you?”
“Have you no family there? Will you allow them to die by your cowardice?”
The pirate looked up, glaring, his chains rattling as he balled his fists. “You fooled me once with your lies, you wrecker, but I won’t be fooled again. If you want to go above decks looking for treasure, or whatever it is you’re after, that’s your business, but you won’t drag me into it again. I’m not going to sacrifice my life and my men for the sake of your greed.” He laughed, sharp and angry. “A harp that raises mountains. You couldn’t think of a better lie than that?”
He shouldered past Felix and started around the trough towards Gotrek, his men following, though some of them looked back, frowning thoughtfully.
Felix sighed, wondering if he should try one more time to convince Euler. There didn’t seem to be any point. The man’s heart was so larcenous that he could not believe that everyone else wasn’t larcenous at heart as well.
He shuffled back towards Gotrek behind the pirates. The Slayer had snapped Aethen
ir’s chains and was now surrounded by a crowd of prisoners, amazed by this feat of strength. They pushed in on all sides, men and women holding out their wrists towards him. Gotrek snapped them as they came, untiring—three sharp pulls freeing each one.
Then Euler’s men pushed through the weaker prisoners and stepped up to Gotrek, grinning. Gotrek snapped their chains too, not even looking up to see who he was freeing.
Felix looked around at the throng of prisoners pushing forwards. Most of them were so malnourished and weak that they could barely stand. Only a few were better than animated corpses. They would be worth hardly anything in a fight. Still, without Euler and his men, Felix, Aethenir and Gotrek were only three, and three wouldn’t get far alone.
Felix pushed through the crowd and stood beside Gotrek to address them. “The dark elves mean to destroy Marienburg and the Empire,” he said. “If you can swing a sword, we need volunteers to help stop them. It will be death, but you will be saving your families back home.”
Only a very few came forwards. Most seemed too numbed to understand what he was saying, and only wanted to be able to move their arms and legs.
Felix sighed and let it go. He had tried.
The key turned in the lock and the four guards filed in, swords drawn as usual. Felix looked nervously at his fellow prisoners, hoping they wouldn’t jump too soon. If anything, they hesitated too long, watching nervously as human slaves started through the room, looking for bodies, and the dwarf slaves trudged in, the heavy cauldron hanging by its chains from the iron pole between them. Gotrek, Felix and Aethenir started for the trough, shuffling and holding their wrists together to hide that their chains were broken as, on the other side of the trough, Euler and his biggest men did the same, taking the positions closest to the cauldron. The rest of the prisoners surged in behind them. Most of them remembered to keep their wrists and ankles together.
Felix exchanged nervous nods with Euler and Aethenir as the dwarf slaves stepped up to the trough and started to tip the cauldron. This was it. Much as he would have liked to, they could not wait to eat. Their deception would be discovered as soon as they tried to dip their hands in the gruel.
With an animal roar, Gotrek leapt up and shoved the young dwarf back. The slave staggered back, the iron pole slipping off his shoulders and the cauldron slamming to the floor, splashing gruel. Before the overseer or the guards understood what was happening, Gotrek grabbed the big pot by its chains and swung it around him as the dwarfs dived away, alarmed. The overseer shouted, running in, only to be smashed to the floor by the thing, his knees a shattered ruin.
The guards cried out, raising their swords, but Felix, Euler and the others were moving and mobbed two of them, dragging them to the floor and smashing their heads on the flagstones. The other two foolishly stepped into the arc of Gotrek’s spinning cauldron and were knocked flat, arms and ribs broken. Gruel slopped everywhere. The corpse collectors also turned, calling out in surprise, but the prisoners jumped them and dragged them down.
Aethenir wisely stayed out of the way.
Felix rose again and saw that the overseer was trying to push himself off the floor, scrabbling for his sword. Felix leapt on him and slammed him back down with all his weight, then snatched the druchii’s dagger from his belt and stabbed it into his stomach, jerking it up under his ribs.
“That’s for the whip cut,” he hissed in his ear as he died.
He took the overseer’s sword and tore the key ring from his belt. He tossed it to one of the other prisoners. “Open the other pens when we go.”
He looked around. Euler and the others were finishing off the two guards they had dragged down, and Gotrek was raising the cauldron and dropping it on the head of the second guard he had flattened. The druchii’s skull cracked with a sickening pop. The other one’s brains were already oozing across the flagstones. The prisoners had killed the corpse collectors.
Felix shook his head, amazed. They had done it! No more than thirty seconds had passed and the guards and the overseer were dead. But now there were shouted questions from the room outside—the four backup guards. Felix turned to the door as Euler, One-Ear, Broken-Nose and one of the other crewmen armed themselves with the dead guards’ swords. Gotrek took up the iron pole that the slaves had used to carry the cauldron. Felix swallowed, afraid of what came next. This fight had only been the beginning, and already his limbs were trembling from exhaustion and hunger. He felt too weak to lift the sword.
“Slayer,” said the young dwarf slave, standing and bowing before Gotrek. “Let me come with you. I can help you find your way.”
“Farnir, you fool!” said the older dwarf. “The masters will kill you!”
Gotrek pushed the young dwarf aside. “You already told me the way, oathbreaker,” he said, then gathered up the chains of the cauldron in his left hand and started for the door, holding the iron pole in his right hand and dragging the heavy pot behind him with his left like it was the head of some giant’s flail.
Felix and Euler pushed out into the big room after him, the pirate crew hard behind and Aethenir timidly bringing up the rear. The four backup guards were advancing warily towards the open cell, swords out, while three more guards and the clerk watched and cried questions from behind the cage. The two huge carts sat near the cell doors, each loaded with giant cauldrons. Two well-muscled dwarf slaves stood by one, staring in amazement.
The four guards shouted and charged forwards, raising their swords. Gotrek roared in response and again swung the mighty cauldron around himself, then let go of the chains. It flew towards the guards, bowling one over and sending the others leaping over the low wooden rails that divided up the room. Felix, Euler and the others rushed forwards to attack them before they recovered.
Felix hacked one of them in the neck as he tried to rise, then parried a wild slash from another. His arm was so weak the second druchii’s blow almost drove his sword back into his face. He fell back, blocking another stronger attack by a hair’s breadth. Felix cursed. It seemed even lowly druchii prison guards were better, faster swords than he. He made a desperate chop at the guard’s flickering blade and knew it wouldn’t be enough, but then an iron pole slashed down and crushed the druchii’s head like an egg.
Felix looked around. Gotrek was roaring past him to where Euler and three of his men were trying to bring down the last guard, who fought them furiously.
One of the pirates stumbled back, screaming, his guts spilling from a tear in his belly. Gotrek shoved him aside and slammed the yoke down on the druchii’s arm, snapping it and knocking his sword to the ground. The pirates ran the druchii through, then hacked him to pieces in a release of pent-up fury.
Behind the melee, the prisoners were stumbling out of the cell and blinking around in somnambulant wonder. The prisoner Felix had given the ring of keys to opened another cell door and waved his arms at those within.
“Free! You’re free!” he cried.
Felix wondered for a brief second if he was doing the poor, half-starved wretches any favours freeing them. They would probably be killed by the guards for escaping. There was no time to think about it.
The pirates took the swords and daggers from the dead guards and advanced on the cage. Gotrek and Felix joined them, pushing to the fore, just in time to see the three guards spill from the guard room holding odd-looking crossbows. The clerk had vanished into the other room, and Felix heard the brazen clangour of an alarm bell.
Gotrek, Felix and the others slammed into the cage bars, stabbing through them at the guards, who jumped back out of reach and fired their crossbows. One missed Felix by a hair’s breadth, and one of the pirates fell back, screaming and clutching his face. Felix’s stomach dropped when he saw new bolts appear in the slots of the bows and the bowstrings draw back by themselves. They would be slaughtered!
Felix and the pirates swiped at the guards with their swords, but only Gotrek, with the length of the iron pole, could touch them. He knocked the crossbow out of one guard’s hand
s and struck another on the shoulder, ruining his aim.
The guard with the keys on his belt fired at the Slayer, but Gotrek ducked and the bolt struck a prisoner. The Slayer stabbed at the key guard again, but missed. He dodged back, turning for the guard room door with his companions, who were realising too late that they should have stayed back. Gotrek flailed after him with the pole, but hit another instead, knocking him to the floor.
Cursing, Felix shoved up to the bars, reversed the overseer’s dagger in his hand and flung it end over end. The knife struck the key guard pommel-first on the back of the head and he careened off the wall to fall to the floor next to the other fallen guard.
“Good work, manling,” said Gotrek.
Unfortunately, the blows hadn’t been enough to knock either guard out. They started picking themselves up again instantly, but they had fallen too close to the bars of the cage and the pirates ran them through as they stood. The key guard collapsed to the floor again, his left foot tantalisingly within reach.
Felix shot an arm through the bars, reaching for the druchii’s ankle as the last guard grabbed him under the arms and tried to pull him back into the guard room. Felix pulled the other way, grunting with effort, the guard’s ankle slipping from his grip. Then Gotrek’s yoke shot forwards and poked the last guard in the chest. He fell back, sucking wind.
Felix pulled for all he was worth—which wasn’t much just then—and dragged the dead guard an arm’s length closer to the bars. He let go and reached for the keys. They were just an inch from his fingertips.
The last guard sat up, gasping, and crawled forwards to grab his dead comrade’s arms again, but with a thwack that made Felix’s ears ring, Gotrek’s yoke came down across the druchii’s shoulders and dropped him to the floor.
Felix pulled again on the dead guard’s ankle and brought him another foot closer. He thrust out his hand and this time closed his fingers around the key ring. It had two keys. He ripped it off the guard’s belt and pulled it through the bars, then tossed it to Aethenir, who hovered anxiously behind the pirates.
[Gotrek & Felix 10] - Elfslayer Page 24