The Undead Hordes of Kan-Gul

by Jon F. Merz

  “You’ve done so much for me already,” said Kancho. “No, this will be something I must undertake myself. Your job is to get Neviah and Jysal out of here and find them safe transport to the temple so Jysal can get her education. I will handle the raiders.”

  “You’ll probably die if you go down there without any help,” said Neviah.

  Kancho grinned. “I have the penalty of death hanging over my head back in Nehon for dishonoring my clan. And death is something that a Murai lives with every moment of his life. I do not fear death.”

  “But you told me you feared dying before you got a chance to rescue your daughter,” said Ran. “Surely there’s no honor in throwing your life away when you have friends who can help you?”

  Kancho took a deep breath and sighed. “I cannot ask you to do such a thing.”

  “You have not asked us,” said Jysal. “We have volunteered to assist you. Two different things entirely.”

  Neviah laid a hand on Kancho’s shoulder. “Your honor is intact, and you should fret not. As you have helped us, we shall help you.”

  “Thank you all,” said Kancho. He looked at Ran. “How do you suggest we proceed?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  From high above the underground harbor, Ran swung out over the edge of the tunnel and quickly hugged the sheer rock face leading down. This was the most critical part of the entire mission. He was utterly exposed on the rock face, and if anyone happened to look up, they would see him. His best option was to descend as quickly as possible and get down among the shadows where he felt more at home. Working in Ran’s favor was the fact that most people don’t ever look up, and if they do, they don’t look much above the level of their head.

  Ideally, Ran would have waited until dark to make his descent. But the underground harbor was immune to the darkness of the outside world. A small opening at one end of the harbor led out to the sea through a tunnel carved out of the rock. But the outside world still sat at least a thousand yards away from where the harbor sat lit up by torches positioned throughout the area. At least the early part of the climb, he’d have the cover of darkness. But the lower he climbed, the brighter it would become.

  Ran clung to the rocks, aware that he had no safety rope. The strength of his muscles alone would determine whether he made it down successfully or whether he crashed to his death amid the gently lolling ships and the wooden piers.

  Ran did not intend to die.

  Working from the most basic tenets of always keeping three points of contact, Ran slowly came down the rock face. His eyes scanned constantly, alert for the movements of the few people milling out below. Ran knew there was a chance he hadn’t spotted some of the guards that might be stationed around the area. But they needed to keep moving. Ran thought it might be possible to grab the raider ship and put to sea. It was probably their best chance to escape Kan-Gul.

  A single path ran up to the tunnel, and Ran could have easily used that to descend. But that was also the most obvious path, and any guards stationed nearby would be alert to movement down the path. No one would expect a single figure to risk his life by climbing down nearly one hundred feet. This was another advantage the Shinobujin exploited—human psychology. Much like animals in the forest, humans would undoubtedly opt for the easiest path. As such, they couldn’t conceive of anyone else going a riskier and more difficult route.

  Mercifully, the rock face was pockmarked and filled with plenty of handholds and footholds. If it had been exposed to the sea, Ran could have counted on a much more challenging descent amid the smoothed surface. Still, Ran’s muscles were on fire as he drew within twenty feet of the ground. It grew tempting to simply drop down among the wooden crates he saw below, but again, his discipline forced him to slow down and take his time. The most dangerous part of any mission was always when you felt like you were close to safety. During those times, the risk was always higher.

  Finally, his feet touched the wooden docks, and Ran released his hands from the rock wall. He allowed himself to sink into the deepest shadows behind the crates. They were stacked two high and side by side for the length of two ships.

  Up close, the transports looked even more massive. Ran couldn’t help but marvel at their size. They could easily transport thousands upon thousands of enemies to the shore of Nehon. And the warlords in Nehon wouldn’t even know about the coming invasion unless Ran was able to get word back to Gakur. The elders would know best how to proceed.

  He crept along the dock with his back to the rock wall and his front toward the ships. Before each step, Ran checked to make sure he wasn’t casting a shadow ahead of him. He noted the positions of the torches and where they threw their light. Then he moved into the spaces between that light. Gradually, he drew down the dock, closer to where the raider ship sat in its mooring.

  He froze when he heard voices. He let one hand slowly fall to his sword. The voices spoke a brutish tongue he did not understand. Another seafarer language, he supposed. The voices spoke with urgency. Something must have been happening. The voices died away, and Ran waited another two minutes before moving again. The temptation to rush was always so great, but fast movement risked noise and was more readily noticed by the human eye, so everything Ran did was as slow and controlled as possible.

  Ran knew that the eyes of the others would no doubt be searching for him amid the crates. He wondered if Kancho could see him stalking about. He knew the older Murai warrior must have guessed what he was by now. But Kancho didn’t seem to care, at least not since Ran had saved his life.

  Time would tell whether their bond would hold up over the constraints of Kancho’s code of honor.

  He stole farther down the docks toward the raider ship. While far smaller than the transports, the raider ship was nonetheless impressive. She must have run at least a hundred feet long and twenty feet wide at her beam. Heavy shields covered her bulwarks, and the double masts looked as thick as the thickest trees Ran had seen in Nehon. Her prow was lean and sharp, adorned with the visage of an angry demon called an Oga in his land. Ran heard more voices and paused in his assessment. Their suspicions of the raiders being from Nehon were confirmed by their language.

  “We must leave by the next tide if we have any hope of making good time back,” said one voice.

  “Understood,” said a second voice. “I will make sure the men are ready.”

  “Excellent. Kan-Gul does not want to waste the chance to position more of our men along the coasts.”

  “And what of the girl, my lord? Are we ransoming her back to her family? She claims her father is Murai. He would no doubt pay handsomely for her return.”

  There was a pause. “I’m not sure what I want to do with her. She is beautiful. Perhaps I will forego the ransom and keep her for myself.”

  “Your wife will not like that one bit, my lord.”

  “My wife doesn’t have to know, does she?”

  Both men laughed and soon passed Ran’s hiding spot on the dock. Ran eased himself back away from the crates and took a few deep breaths. There was no guarantee that the woman the men spoke of was Kancho’s daughter, but he wondered how many other Murai daughters these raiders could possibly have. Either way, it would bear looking into further. The question was: How to do it without attracting attention or exposing himself? And was the girl even on the ship itself, or was she being kept elsewhere in the harbor area?

  Ran sighed. The only way to find out was to get aboard the ship.

  He crept out and looked around the area. He still hadn’t seen anything that led him to believe there were guards around. It was a fact he found peculiar. Unless the raiders felt completely protected here and the need for guards seemed silly to them.

  Their mistake, thought Ran as he crept away from the crates. The gangway to the raider ship was a few steps away. Ran glanced around and then made his way swiftly up the gangway. He kept his forward momentum going with short, rolling steps that kept the boat from rocking and brought him up to the main deck as
fast as possible.

  He was exposed now and knew the others could clearly see what he was doing. Ran ducked down a hatchway leading belowdecks and paused halfway down the ladder listening to the ambient noises aboard the ship. The soft creaking of heavy, seaworthy ropes and the gentle lapping of waves against the hull reached his ears, but little else. Where was the crew?

  Ran frowned. For an apparently busy harbor, there was very little going on. Nearly twenty heavy transports rested in the harbor, along with a raiding ship, and yet he’d seen perhaps three people the entire time he’d been there. Something was wrong. But he couldn’t put his finger on what it might be.

  Unless this whole thing was a trap.

  The absence of the troops to fill the transport ships made sense. Clearly the army from the north hadn’t arrived yet. But he would have expected the raiders to at least maintain some presence aboard their own ship. More so if they had a prisoner aboard.

  Ran finished descending into the main cabin and regarded the doors before him. Two of them were open, and he could see into the simple galley and crew bunk area. The last door was barred with a simple lock.

  Ran knelt in front of it and fished his wire from his tunic. Fitting it into the lock, he had it open in a few seconds. He stepped back and swung the door open.

  What he found surprised him.

  Malkyr.

  The ship captain was curled up in a ball, apparently sound asleep. Ran glanced around and then nudged him awake. Malkyr stirred and groaned, putting one of his hands on his head.

  Ran shushed him. “What happened to you?”

  Malkyr’s eyes widened when he recognized Ran. He looked around. “Where are they?”

  “I don’t know. Where have you been?”

  “I followed the tunnel to its end and wound up here. I took the path down and bumped right into a guard.”

  “A guard? I haven’t seen any.”

  Malkyr frowned. “There were a lot of people here when I arrived. They clunked me on the head and stuffed me in here. The indignity, I tell you. Here I am a ship’s captain, and those wretches can’t even be bothered to respect my rank.”

  “Raiders don’t seem to care about much aside from themselves,” said Ran. “Have you heard anything about the woman they apparently took hostage?”

  “They have a hostage? I thought I was the only one.”

  Ran shook his head. “I heard two of them talking about her. There’s a chance it could be Kancho’s daughter.”

  “Sorry, no.”

  Ran helped Malkyr to his feet. “Can you walk? How’s your leg?”

  “Well enough, I suppose. Have you got a spare weapon? I feel naked without even a flimsy blade to protect myself with.”

  Ran fished one of Neviah’s daggers out of his belt and handed it over to Malkyr. “Take care of that. Neviah is not a big fan of yours. If you don’t bring that back to her, she’ll probably track you down and slit your throat.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” said Malkyr. “Now what?”

  “We get you out of here. The girl they were talking about has to be around somewhere. We need to find her and then get her back to Kancho.”

  “We’re not even sure it’s his daughter.”

  “We’ll find out. In the meantime, what would it take to get this boat out to sea?”

  “Why?”

  “Because there’s an army coming from the north and they mean to invade all the lands around here before sailing for Nehon. We need to get word back to the warlords so they can prepare an adequate welcome.”

  Malkyr looked around the boat. “She’s seaworthy enough, but I’d kill for a few more crew to take her out. If I don’t have help, it will be a troublesome thing to get out past the entrance to the harbor. Plus, I don’t know what the tides are like. We’ve been underground far too long.”

  “An experienced captain like you ought to be able to tell how the tide’s going as soon as you see it.”

  Malkyr grinned. “You flatter me.”

  Ran frowned. “You might be a pain, but you know your trade. Can you prepare to cast off? And can you do it without attracting attention?”

  “Maybe. Where are you going?”

  “Back ashore. I need to get the others down here and then try to locate Kancho’s daughter.”

  “Forget about her, Ran. She’s already lost.”

  Ran shook his head. “I told Kancho that I would help him find her. I don’t have children, but if I ever did and one of them went missing, I’d move heaven and earth to find them.”

  “A noble gesture,” said Malkyr. “But it’s worthless if you can’t find her.” He poked his head around. “I can get the ship ready. Where are the others?”

  “Up above at the tunnel entrance,” said Ran. “I’ll head up there now and get them sorted. Hopefully I won’t run into any trouble.”

  “If you were able to get down here without attracting attention, I doubt you’ll have any problems on the way back up.”

  Ran grinned. “Now who’s flattering who?”

  “Just speaking fact,” said Malkyr. “You go ahead and get them down here. I can be ready to leave as soon as you’re back.”

  “You’re certain of that?”

  Malkyr nodded. “If the tide is going out, the current should at least carry us out to the entrance. If some of you don’t mind manning the oars to get us beyond the entrance, we can raise sails soon after and be on our way. We could be back in Nehon in a little over a day if the winds are right and hold.”

  “Excellent,” said Ran. “Don’t do anything to make noise, and I’ll be back as quickly as I can.”

  “Good.”

  Ran ascended the steps of the ladder and poked his head back above the main deck. The ship still lolled gently, and he could see no one nearby. He started to climb up, when he heard Malkyr’s voice behind him. “Ran.”

  He dropped back down and started to turn around. “Wha—?”

  But he never completed the turn before he felt something thunder into the base of his skull. Blackness swallowed him up.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  “Tell us what clan hired you.”

  Ran’s mind was filled with blackness. A strip of cloth covered his eyes, and he could not see a thing. Ordinarily this would not present much of a challenge, but the cloth had been so tightly tied that his head throbbed. For the last several hours, he’d been subjected to constant physical abuse. During the first round of questioning, they’d only shoved him around. But then it had escalated to punches and kicks aimed at his sides and ribs. His lower back felt like a side of beef after it had been pounded on.

  He coughed. The cold air of the room they kept him in didn’t help, either. In the time he’d been there, he’d developed a cough. He wondered if he was getting sick. Bits of phlegm and spittle shot from his mouth, but if he expected sympathy, he got none. For his trouble, they laughed at him.

  “You can stop this anytime you want. Just tell us the name of the clan that hired you.”

  At times, they would ask him nicely. The tone of their voices was soothing, almost hypnotic in its approach. And Ran desperately wanted to believe they were not going to harm him.

  He knew better than that.

  Other times, their voices were harsh and insistent. They played on these two extremes, trying to find a weakness they could exploit—one tiny chink in his mental armor they could worm their way in through and get him to spill his secrets.

  When the psychological techniques failed, they resorted to the physical. Ran was stripped of his clothing and made to lean against a wall with his arms extended. This position produced severe muscle fatigue in only about a minute. As supremely well-conditioned as Ran was, the sleep deprivation and lack of proper food and drink had taken its toll. He could not hold the position for very long without lowering his hands. When he did, they got him back up, punched him a few times, and made him resume the position until he thought his arms were going to fall off.

  Then the questioning cont
inued.

  “Just give us a name. Tell us who contacted you. Which clan hired you?”

  On and on it would go. For hours. They were relentless. His silence never bothered them. They would simply come at him from another angle. No matter what they tried, Ran said nothing.

  He wanted to, though. He desperately wanted to. Not during the violent times. He could use anger toward them as a defense against that. Fantasies of ripping off the blindfold and breaking all of their necks gave him enough spirit to endure those attacks.

  The soothing voice, though, that was a real challenge. As much as he knew these were not his friends, he couldn’t help thinking that maybe they liked him. That maybe they appreciated the way he’d been able to hold out and give them absolutely nothing. Perhaps they even respected him for it.

  Would it be so bad to give them a little something? He could make up a lie. Tell them another clan had hired him. Would that be enough to get them maybe give him some food and water? A little nourishment would help him fight off the sickness he felt certain he was getting in his lungs. It would cheer him up as well. And a moral boost would be an exquisite thing, indeed.

  Maybe just a name.

  A cold breeze blew in, and he shivered. Sitting on the stone floor, the cold seeped into his backside and right up his spine. His teeth chattered, and he coughed again.

  “You are sick. We can hear it when you breathe. It sounds like a rattling baby’s toy. Your body is losing its strength. Just tell us what we need to know and we will have a healer come see you. You will be allowed to rest. Perhaps even some food. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? A warm bed to sleep in. Hot tea. Just give us a name. One simple name and it can all be yours.”

  He didn’t believe them. He knew it was a slippery slope. Once they got into you, they would keep opening you up until they got what they needed. And even if he gave them a false name, a lie was just as bad as the truth itself, because then they had a dialogue with you. The problem with telling lies was that you had to remember exactly what falsehood you had constructed, because they surely would. And they’d keep asking you over and over again to confirm it.