Shadows

by Michael Duncan

  Aaron then realized Garam had come alone. “Where is Braden? I told you to have him with you!” He kept his voice down but anger filled his words.

  “Be still, Captain!” Garam whispered harshly. “He’s waiting in the cart, keeping the horses quiet!”

  Aaron relaxed for a moment and checked on Lorik and Rayn’s progress. They were ready; each adequately adjusted the dwarfish garments to hide their uniforms. Garam motioned for them to follow, and the three soldiers cautiously walked out the door into the hall.

  The passage was dim, with small stones illuminating the way. With just enough light to see, the men crept along the corridor, up the stairs and toward the main exit. Their booted feet echoed against the bare stone floor as they navigated down the empty corridor. They stepped as quietly as possible, but to Aaron their footfalls might as well have been an alarm signal declaring their escape. Undaunted, they walked through the hall and exited into a snow-covered night.

  Aaron heaved a sigh as his eyes searched the darkness for any sign of pursuit or alarm—nothing. The night was still. A heavy mist filled the valley and shrouded their movements. The only sign of their passage was their footprints on the snow-covered ground mingled with hundreds of other prints, so he dismissed the issue from his thoughts. Above them the sky was dark, dotted with stars.

  To the right, around the corner of the barracks, a two-wheeled cart waited with a dwarf perched on the driver’s bench. Two horses were hitched to the wagon and pawed at the ground as Aaron approached. The three men crawled into the back of the cart and covered themselves with several heavy wool blankets stored there. Each man ducked below the height of the cart’s sidewall, and lay in deathly silence. Garam mounted the front bench and sat with Braden, quietly speaking to the other and pointing in the direction he wanted Braden to drive.

  As they moved, Aaron whispered to the one who rescued them. “What is your plan, Garam? Surely we can’t just simply leave through the main mountain passage?”

  “No,” was Garam’s quiet reply. “The tunnel is too well guarded, and we have no hope of escape that way. Besides, the horros prowl the eastern slopes of the mountains. Our only hope of leaving Hidden Valley undetected is to escape by the river.”

  Aaron heard Braden gasp, and wondered what that might indicate. “Garam, we saw no river that might serve as an exit out of these mountains.”

  “You’re right, of course,”—was Garam’s sarcastic reply—“but if you begin to trust me, you will discover that I might know my land better than you! There is an underground river that flows through the mountains and empties into the valley south and east of here. It is a dangerous way, and many dwarves have perished in the currents, but there is no other way for us to escape detection.”

  “How far,” asked Lorik, “before we reach this river?”

  “It is several miles before we come to the road that leads to the river. Be still, we will make it there,” Garam offhandedly commented. “You’ll find your weapons hidden under the straw. Also, you will find satchels of food and drink for the journey. Now be quiet and keep your heads down; we need to reach the river before dawn. Near the river is a small village, and we must pass through without attracting attention.” Without another word, the company passed along the snow-covered roads of Brekken-Dahl, anxious to leave the city.

  Shadows: Book of Aleth Part One

  11

  Escape from Hidden Valley

  The wagon rattled along the cobbled street as Braden drove through the main gate of the city. With a wave from the tower guard, the five travelers rolled beyond the city wall and into the valley. As they passed through, Aaron peered over the edge of the wagon and hoped to gain some view of their location. It was dark. Stars shimmered in the cold night air as the crescent moon sent down its pale glow and illuminated the world with a ghostly light.

  Crisp snow crackled beneath hoof and wheel as the captain looked back. The city of Brekken-Dahl, which diminished in the distance, radiated with a faint illumination. Aaron didn’t know if it was some trick of the moonlight that reflected upon the white, stone walls, or if the fortification itself possessed its own, pale light. The entire valley seemed almost magical to his eyes, a glowing paradise hidden for centuries beyond the grasp of outsiders.

  At Garam’s direction, Braden veered right and took a narrow road that meandered through a large grove of assorted trees. Apple, chestnut, and pear trees filled the orchard. The leaves of the trees had long since fallen and left only the bare branches surrounded by the thick mist. Aaron’s companions popped their heads up from under the blankets and watched the trees pass by as well.

  As they journeyed, not even a slight breeze disrupted their passage through the grasping branches of the orchard. Aaron glanced up at the moon. Its slow decent to the horizon signaled dawn’s approach. The mist that hung in the trees grew thick and became a fog, a welcomed cloak over the world around them. Silent and still, the two dwarves sat at the reins and guided the wagon through the night.

  Lorik tried to talk in a whisper, but his voice sounded amplified in the still silence. “It looks like we are heading a bit south and west, Captain. It’s hard to say in this fog, but I don’t think that we’re traveling toward the tunnel that brought us here.”

  “You’re right, of course,” spoke Garam. “We are heading for a small village about five miles southwest of Brekken-Dahl. We will be through the village by daybreak. There is a glacial lake beyond that in the mountains which feeds a river that flows out of our realm. Our big concern will be the journey downstream; it is a perilous ride through tunnels and canyons. Without incident, the trip is two days, but if we run into trouble it will be the last trip we ever take.”

  “Sounds interesting.” Rayn added, with little enthusiasm.

  “Lorik, answer me something,” Braden spoke, “how will we travel through your country undetected? It seems that none of your race remembers dwarves so I suspect that if we just walk into one of your towns it might cause quite a stir.”

  “I hadn’t thought about it before, but you’re right,” replied Lorik. “I don’t think we will be able to take any of the roads or byways. If we are discovered it will bring up questions better left unanswered.” He turned his attention to Aaron and continued. “Sir, I know the northern reaches of Celedon as well as anyone. With your permission, I can guide us when we get back to our land. If we keep to the wilderness, we will avoid any contact. It is a bit more dangerous, but if secrecy is our objective I think it’s necessary.”

  “What do you have in mind?” Aaron asked.

  “If I’m right, the river that Garam speaks of will exit the mountains in the northern part of Celedon—somewhere above North Village. We can leave the river and travel undetected around the Shattered Hills.”

  “I’ve been in those hills!” Braden said. “They are infested with evil; it’s too dangerous!”

  “We can skirt the hills to the north and then travel along their eastern border. It is a barren region, little more than scrub grass and open fields.” Lorik tried to reassure the dwarf. “Nothing much lives there.”

  “I suggest we devote our attentions to one problem at a time,” Aaron interjected. “Let’s get out of this valley first, and then we can concentrate on the next leg of our journey.” Aaron’s words ended the conversation, and the men rode through the silent, drifting fog.

  Another hour passed, and they left the orchard. Ahead of them lay a wide expanse of rolling hills. To the east, shimmering pale blue in the waning moonlight, the Shadow Mountains loomed large. The peaks looked down at the travelers as if they dared them to try and cross. Occasionally, a light shone in some distant home, a signal that the valley slowly started waking. The fog dissipated as they continued, and the early morning air felt crisp and fresh. They crested a hill and looked down to a small village nestled against the base of the mountains. The village teemed with lights.

  Braden halted the wagon and peered down to the village below. He and Garam sat and whispered
to each other, obviously distressed at the sight of the entire village lit up like a swarm of fireflies. Even from their vantage point, they heard cries and shouts from the townspeople.

  “So much for secrecy,” Rayn said. “Isn’t this just our luck? Just when it seemed that we’d escape, we’re stopped dead in our tracks. What’s your plan now, Garam?”

  “Be quiet,” Garam whispered harshly, “your voice carries like the blast of a trumpet!”

  Aaron slid closer to Garam and placed himself behind the dwarf. “What do you think has happened?” he whispered.

  “I don’t know, but we’ve come too far to turn back. I am sure by now we are pursued, but I doubt that anyone has sent word to the village below. I just don’t know what else has stirred up the town.” Garam’s voice trailed off as he looked down into the distant village. He turned and faced Aaron. “We need more information. I suggest that we drive our cart closer to the village, and the three of you hide here in the back. Braden and I will go into the town and find out what’s happened. Afterward, we will return and decide what to do.”

  “Oh, sure,” whispered Rayn, “You two leave us to be found and killed!” He turned to Aaron and gestured toward the two dwarves. “Sir, we can’t trust these people! They captured us, imprisoned us, and threatened to execute us, and now we’re expected to believe that they are really trying to help us!”

  “Private!” Aaron ordered, desperate to keep his voice low. “Be quiet! These two dwarves are in the same mess we are in. We will follow their lead out of this valley and you will do as they say!” With that, all arguments ended, and the three men ducked again into the back of the wagon.

  Braden drove down the hill until they reached a small copse of trees, two hundred yards from the village. Quickly and quietly, Braden and Garam stepped from the cart and made their way to the town. Darkness still covered the world, though on the eastern horizon a faint glow appeared over the mountains. Braden and Garam moved with care into the shadows of the trees and disappeared into the darkness.

  Aaron peered out from the blankets where he had settled down and watched the two dwarves vanish through the trees. He was amazed at how well adapted they were to stealth. “And they’re gone,” he whispered.

  With a sigh, Lorik looked over the edge of the cart as well. “I hope that it won’t be long. Dawn is only an hour away and then nothing will hide us from watchful eyes.”

  “They left us,” Rayn muttered under his breath, anger growled in his words.

  After twenty minutes, the two dwarves returned, panting with exhaustion. Braden and Garam climbed back into the wagon and took their place at the front.

  Garam looked at Aaron with alarm. “There’s been an attack on the village,” he said. “I don’t know how, but troll raiders attacked less than two hours ago. From what I heard, the trolls came over the mountains. The entire village is in an uproar; we have no hope of passing through undetected.”

  “What if we wait for nightfall?” Lorik inquired. “We can remain in these trees through the day and pass to the river after the situation has calmed down.”

  “Perhaps,” replied Garam, “but we must believe that there are guards now in pursuit. I don’t think we will remain hidden for long. There are just two exits from Hidden Valley, the main passage through the mountains and the river. Once the guards realize that we haven’t left by the main road, they will look for us here.” Garam paused for a moment. “No,” he continued, “I believe that our best hope of escape still remains before us. We must make for the river now or never.”

  “Then we better get going while it is still dark. It’ll be dawn soon,” Aaron said as he looked up through the canopy of branches, “less than an hour.”

  “Well then,” Braden said, “if you three will duck down again we’ll be off.” The three men sunk into the bed of the cart with the blankets over their heads as they hoped to go undetected through the tumultuous village.

  Darkness gave way to the bright illumination of the village lights. Through small cracks in the sidewall of the wagon, Aaron watched the chaos that filled the small town. They entered through the main gate of the community, but it was shattered and burned, just a smoldering pile of lumber. Several homes were charred, and two on their right still burned.

  Dwarves, both men and women, ran helter-skelter through the road; some carried large buckets of water to try and extinguish the flames, others aided the injured, taking them into a large, two-story stone building on the left of the main road. Amid the tumult, cries and wails of those who lost loved ones filled the air. One young dwarf mother sat on the edge of the road with a small cloak clutched in her arms, screaming for someone to find her children. Her lament ripped at Aaron’s heart.

  They passed through the pandemonium. Most of the townspeople paid little heed to the cart as it rolled down the main thoroughfare. One or two of the villagers gave them a glance; however, they were able to travel the length of the village without any interference. The wagon rattled through the burned remains of the back gate. Aaron looked through the slats and saw something unexpected. Along the path, just beyond the village wall, a contingent of six dwarves stood guard, three on each side.

  Braden kept driving the wagon, moving toward the guards when one of them stood in the road and blocked their passage to the river. Braden looked at Garam. “I hope you have an idea to get us through this,” he said.

  The dwarf who had stood in the road was stocky, shorter than the rest but broad and firm. His beard was deep black, matted with blood and a large gash stretched from his temple to his jaw. His raiment was torn, and his mail-ringed leather shirt was gashed with claw marks. He looked distraught and worn from battle. The guard raised his hand. “Halt!” he commanded.

  “What can I do for you soldier?” Braden asked.

  “Tell me,” the dwarf spoke, his voice hoarse and weary, “where are you going at this hour?”

  Garam quickly answered, “We are going fishing and wanted to get an early start on the day. We are from the city and hoped to try our luck on the river.”

  The guard leaned on the handle of his battleaxe and shook his head in disbelief. “Goin’ to try your luck at the river?” he said, almost chuckling. “Don’t you see what’s gone on? We’ve been attacked by trolls, and you wanna go fishin’!” The other soldiers on the side of the road started to walk toward the wagon and held their weapons as if they intended to use them. “I think we need to check out what you’ve got in this wagon. Get yourselves down from there and let us have a look.”

  Without warning Garam grabbed the reigns and whipped the horses into a run. They bolted and were soon in a mad dash up the road into the mountains. Quickly falling behind, the six dwarf soldiers ran after them.

  “Halt! Stop that wagon!”

  Garam paid no heed to the guards and continued to press the horses to run faster.

  Aaron sat up from his hiding place and watched the scenery rush past. Alarmed by the change in circumstances, he shouted to be heard. “Garam, what do you think you’re doing?”

  “They were going to discover you! We need to get to the river before they catch up.”

  As they climbed higher up the path to the glacial reservoir, Garam pointed back the way they’d come. The first light of dawn had broken over the eastern mountains, and they looked upon the valley below and behind them. Far down the road and still outside the village, a large contingent of dwarves emerged from the orchard groves and ran swiftly towards the town. Much closer, the six dwarf guards pursued them up the path into the mountains.

  Through a narrow valley, little more than a crack in the mountainside, Garam drove their cart. Their horses began to pant and sweat under the stress. Dawn’s light chased away the shadows, and they saw that they were in a narrow crevice that twisted to the left. Time seemed to slow in the hurried pace, as the horses pressed to climb the mountain pass.

  Lorik looked over the sideboard and asked, “How much farther?”

  “We’re almost there…w
e will see a lake just around the next bend,” Garam said and kept his gaze fixed on their path. Just after he spoke, the wagon began to shudder violently. Aaron looked over the sideboard to see the left wheel begin to separate from the axle. The horses, under the duress of the broken wheel, stumbled in stride and fell to the ground. Everyone in the carriage flew like debris and brutally tumbled along the path.

  Aaron gathered himself, scraped and bruised for the experience, and ran back to the wagon. He found Rayn pinned to the ground by the broken transport. Lorik came to his aide and together they freed their companion. The two dwarves hurried and gathered up their scattered belongings. They handed the swords to each of the three men, strapped their axes to their backs and hoisted the bags up on their shoulders.

  “Quickly Captain, we must run to the river!” Garam was almost panicked to frenzy as his gaze darted back down the path to watch for those in pursuit.

  Aaron, however, was not given to alarm. He strapped his sword around his waist, and began to assess the situation. Rayn was injured. Lorik was dazed but functional. The two dwarves were flustered. He knew they had a good lead on the six guards. The soldiers were farther behind and posed no immediate threat. So his first concern was Rayn. He went to the private and began to examine his leg that had been pinned under the wagon.

  “Can you move, Rayn? How’s the leg?” Aaron knelt down to examine the wounds. Blood oozed from an open gash on Rayn’s thigh. His arm was bruised and battered but there was no sign of any broken bones.

  “I can make it, sir,” Rayn said. He grimaced as he tried to stand. “It’s just a simple cut.” However, when Rayn tried to walk he screamed and collapsed under his own weight. Aaron wrestled Rayn to his feet again, and had the private lean against him to walk.

  “Captain!” shouted Garam and Braden together, exasperated.

  Garam continued, “We must leave now or we never will! We have no idea what waits for us at the reservoir, and we need time to find a boat and get downstream!”