Dead Druid: Claire-Agon Ranger Book 2 (Ranger Series)

by Salvador Mercer

“Yes,” Dareen said simply.

  Inga sighed for a moment. “I don’t want that kind of attention nor risk again, but I can’t let them take you all and kill you . . . or worse.”

  Wally shook his head. “What could be worse than death?”

  “Plenty,” Inga said, and Dareen nodded.

  “Well, that’s just great,” Wally complained.

  “You’ve said that already,” Estelle confirmed from her seat across the table. “So now what?”

  All eyes turned to Dareen, and she felt a surge of excitement, apprehension, and dread all at the same time. “First things first,” she began, looking at each companion in turn, meeting and holding their gazes for a moment each, “we do what we must to save ourselves. Then we work on the escape. Inga, again, how do the Kesh know?”

  “I heard the blonde girl telling Bricks that she had some news for him, something big, but that it was going to cost him.”

  “When did you hear this?” Dareen asked.

  “I work in the first line mud pit and march near them every day. The girl told the guard on the way back,” Inga said.

  “The girl’s name is Vika,” Dareen explained. “Did she tell only the one guard?”

  “Yes, as far as I can tell. The guard’s name is Bricks.” Inga smiled, seeming to enjoy the fact that she could help Dareen with names as well.

  “All right, Bricks is his name. You don’t know if she gave him details yet or if he told anyone else, right?” Dareen asked.

  “They’re at the far end of the tables now,” Inga said, her face turning to a scowl as she glanced sideways down the row of tables. “She’s told him or is telling him even now.”

  “Stay here, all of you,” Dareen said, giving them all a look that meant business.

  Dareen stood quickly and started to walk toward the far end of the tables at a pace that wouldn’t attract too much attention. She weaved her way in and around her fellow slaves who were walking and talking about, though most were still seated, eating, and discussing things with one another under the watchful eye of the Kesh wall guards.

  At the end of the row was Vika at a table with another young woman who wasn’t nearly as attractive, and the Kesh guard known now as Bricks had one foot on the edge of the seating bench with his arms on his raised knee as he leaned in toward the younger women, smiling and showing a row of nasty, dirty teeth. His one free hand played over the hilt of his sword, and he snorted when he laughed.

  He motioned to one of the slaves who brought an extra plate of food, and the food wasn’t what the rest were eating. There was an apple cut into slices on it, slices of cheese, a fresh rye aroma from a piece of freshly baked bread, and several slabs of what looked like a nicely roasted beef. The women smiled when their food arrived and started to eat immediately.

  Dareen quickly returned to her companions and sat back down. “We need to move quickly, then.”

  “What is it?” Marge hissed.

  “They’re getting paid first,” Dareen said. “Vika may have just given him enough information to get what she wants, so we need to do something now.”

  “And what exactly would that be?” Wally said, his tone sounding defeated. Dareen looked intently at Inga, who nodded in agreement. “Bloody hell.” Wally sighed.

  “Quickly now, let’s get to the rear and prep you for my plan,” Dareen said, motioning for the women to follow.

  “I’ll stay with my lug here,” Marge said, rubbing her hand across Wally’s leg.

  Dareen nodded, not having time to discuss their options any longer. Estelle and Inga followed her through the maze of shanties until they reached the rear. A guard looked down at them for a moment and then returned to his walk upon the wall, not giving them another thought. There were actually several people in the latrines, but Dareen went to the flat wooden planks that sat under a small leather tube.

  The side walls were only waist high, and Dareen ripped several strips of cloth from Inga’s dress and dunked them into the barrel of brackish water that was used for the latrine and sometimes for bathing by the braver of the Ulathans. She handed a strip to Estelle and another to Inga and began to scrub the dirt from the younger woman’s arm.

  Understanding the plan, Estelle worked on Inga’s leg while Inga used her free hand to wash her face, spitting more than once as the brackish water got into her mouth. The dirt came off in brown rivulets, and Dareen had to scrub to get the last layer off. It appeared that Inga had kept herself muddied for quite some time.

  Time seemed to be their enemy, and Dareen finished the arm and looked at Inga’s hair.

  “I’ll get the comb,” Estelle said, and she took off running toward their shanty that was only a dozen feet away.

  “You’re kidding me,” Inga said, watching as Dareen’s eyes fell to her bosom.

  “We have to make this work, and we’ll only get one chance,” Dareen said, her voice apologetic and her facial expression pleading.

  After a pause and seeing Estelle return, Inga nodded. “All right, let’s get this over with, but I hope you have a better plan than me having a raucous of an evening with that filthy brigand,” Inga said.

  “I’m working on it,” Dareen said, motioning for Estelle to begin combing Inga’s hair as Dareen started to alter the younger woman’s dress, lifting and enhancing the upper part and replacing it underneath to provide lift. When she finished, she worked on cleaning Inga’s other arm and leg while Estelle finished her hair brushing, and then Dareen worked on the lower end of the dress, making her final alterations.

  “There, that will have to do,” Dareen said, stepping back and looking at Inga intensely.

  Estelle stepped around to the front next to Dareen and opened her mouth and then shut it again quickly before finally speaking. “I had no idea this was buried under all that dirt and grime,” she said.

  “Not to mention a veil of hair and plenty of baggy clothing,” Dareen said.

  Inga stood in front of them, her hair still an organized mess, but at least it all flowed around her shoulders and away from her face. The sleeves of her dress were removed, and her milky white skin showed from the shoulders down as she stood there with her hands on her hips. Her hips were accented with a tight belt around her waist, showing off her considerable figure, which was literally cloaked under the baggy clothing before, and the lattice of her dress was stretched seriously as her bosom screamed for attention. The hem of her dress was shortened, and two cuts were made in the skirt part of her dress at the side so that her legs could peek through as she walked or stood if she so desired. The transformation was surreal.

  “Inga?” Marge said as she and Walter came around their shack to stare at the woman.

  “Is that really her?” Wally said, his mouth open and his eyes wide.

  “So you approve?” Dareen asked, looking at her companions and then back to Inga.

  “Approve?” Marge said, and Dareen was worried the older woman would say something negative.

  “Well?” Estelle chimed in.

  “You’ll get that guard’s attention all right,” Walter said. “You may get the poor lass killed or worse, if you get my meaning.”

  “Not if we play this right,” Dareen said. “Quick now, we’re running out of time. We have to intervene before dinner is over.”

  “Well, you better hurry,” Marge said. “Most of us have finished and are returning to our shacks for the evening.”

  “Right, come on now, Inga, time to go.” Dareen took the younger woman’s hand and started back off toward the northwest corner of the complex near the first table, a plan formulating in her mind. Just as quickly, the others followed a good distance behind.

  “So, is the food to your liking, my sweets?” Bricks said, smiling with his black-stained teeth at the young Ulathan girl, who batted her eyes at him intently. He wasn’t sure why she had her friend at their table, probably to double the amount of food he had to pay her for the information he was about to receive.

  She had hinted at it we
ll enough, a plan by some of the Ulathans to escape, and they had the nerve to do it on his watch. He wasn’t a commander or brigand chieftain, but he did run one of the squads that usually oversaw the afternoon shift as well as the dinner feedings, and he felt personally responsible for their confinement. He didn’t fancy what one of the Kesh wizards would do to him if there was an escape on his watch.

  “Where did you get the apple?” Vika asked, fluttering her eyes a bit and smiling at the Kesh brigand.

  “Oh, they comes and goes from the South. The last of them from Ulatha we ate months ago. Not easy they are to come by, but enough talks about the food. I kept my part of the bargain, now you names the escapees.”

  Vika took another bite of her apple and then started to lose her pleasant countenance. It was about time to pay the piper, and the many weeks of flirting, touching, and bantering had seemed all but harmless to the young woman . . . at least till now. Now she was going to have to do something, say something that would get one or more of her fellow countrymen hurt . . . or worse. “Let me finish my apple and then I’ll tell you. It’s not like they can run away.” The other girl giggled and nodded as if knowingly sharing in a secret joke or something.

  Bricks wasn’t pleased to be kept waiting. He’d just as soon strangle the girl and get the information out of her that way, but he was fond of the attention he was receiving and fancied that once more slaves were secured, there would be an adjustment in the slave order and he could claim a slave wife as part of his spoils. The young blonde Ulathan woman would fit the bill for that, and if she agreed to be with him, then that would trump any other claim by the other brigands. One look around the camp and Bricks shuddered to think of what some of his fellow countrymen would have to settle for in the wife department.

  “Excuse me,” a voice called out melodiously from behind him.

  “What?” Bricks said, turning around to see an older, though somewhat attractive, woman standing there looking at him and then turning her attention to the food on the table.

  “Is all that just for these two girls?” Dareen said, her voice expressing disdain.

  “What’s it to you, slave woman?” Bricks said, following the words with a guffaw and a rather nasty grin on his face as he looked Dareen over from head to toe.

  Dareen pulled out her crude, wooden fork from a fold in her dress, leaned over, and speared an apple slice, putting it in her mouth quicker than anyone could react.

  “Hey,” Vika said, her eyes wide and a scowl coming across her face as she pulled the plate of food away from the edge of the table toward herself.

  The brigand narrowed his eyes, clenching one of his hands into a fist as he took his foot off the bench and stood to face Dareen. “And who do you think you are to be stealing food from the provisioning line?”

  Dareen tried to stifle the urge to flinch as it appeared a blow would be forthcoming from the brigand. She finished chewing quickly and swallowed hard to clear her mouth and speak, almost gagging in the process. “You don’t think that this little tart is the only treat available in camp, now do you?”

  Bricks looked to where Dareen was staring straight at Vika, who started to stammer. “Who . . . what . . . just who are you calling a ‘tart,’ eh?” she said defiantly, her lips curling downward even more into one of the saddest countenances that Dareen had ever seen.

  Dareen motioned with her head past the table and further into the camp. “See that there, Kesh?”

  Bricks followed her gaze and saw at the edge of the first shanty a voluptuous woman standing at the corner of the shack. Her right leg was set out from her dress, exposing it, and one hand rested on her waist while the other laid on the structure high over her head in an alluring pose. A healthy dose of cleavage completed the picture, and she batted her eyes alluringly. Dareen could still hardly believe she was seeing the same woman from a half hour ago who had more mud exposed on her than skin.

  “Who is that?” the brigand asked, not taking his eyes off the woman. The other girls at the table looked in the same direction with Vika having to turn around to see well enough.

  Dareen cleared her throat. “That is payment for our own supplies. Do you like what you see?”

  “Like?” Bricks said, enamored and definitely engaged with the sight of the voluptuous slave woman. “I know every slave in this compound and she ain’t one of you. Where did she come from?”

  “She’s a slave all right, just under one of my beauty charms for your enjoyment. Do you approve, then?” Dareen said.

  Bricks finally took his eyes off the beautiful woman and looked at Dareen suspiciously. “What game are you playing, slave?”

  “No game, Kesh. Do you know who I am?” Dareen said, putting her fork away and placing her hands on her hips in a stance of defiance.

  The brigand looked her over carefully before responding. “Yeah, you’se that wood-witch that came in this week from the masters. What sort of trick are you playing at?”

  Dareen sighed inwardly in relief. Her bluff hinged on whether or not the brigand believed her to be a real witch, or more like a charlatan. Most of the simpler brigands thought her to be a wood-witch, but a few, especially the ones in leadership positions, doubted the rumors, and her plan hinged heavily on his believing that she could at least cast some simple charms or curses.

  “Who is that?” the other girl asked, looking at Vika.

  “I’ve never seen her before,” Vika said, turning back to look at her companion. “Is she Ulathan?”

  “Who cares?” Bricks said, looking back again to see if the woman was still there. She was.

  “Want a closer look?” Dareen asked, lowering her voice.

  Bricks looked back to Dareen and narrowed his eyes yet again. The change in his expression from Inga to Dareen was almost comical, if not for the high stakes involved. “Yeah? Let’s go make introductions, then, shall we?”

  Bricks started to walk over to Inga, and Vika and her friend stood in protest. “Hey, what about my news?” Vika said to the brigand’s back as the man marched off toward the shanty.

  Dareen gave the hand signal for Inga to disappear, and then she quickly slid out of sight from the edge of the corner shanty.

  “Where’d she go?” Bricks said, hurrying his pace.

  The three women and brigand reached the back of the first shanty, and Bricks scowled. “What game are you up to, woman?”

  “Come on, you don’t expect our lady friend to flaunt herself in front of your guards, now do you?” Dareen said, walking past the brigand and heading deeper into the slave camp.

  Wordlessly, the brigand and other two women walked behind Dareen until they reached the second to last row in the middle of the structures. “She’s in there.”

  Bricks looked warily at Dareen and then used a hand to slowly open the door as if expecting a trap. The door opened, and the faint light of day illuminated the interior of the shack. There, on the back bunk, was Inga lying seductively, winking at the brigand.

  “Well, hello, my pretty,” Bricks said, smiling and slowly entering the structure.

  “Oh, that is so not fair,” Vika said, pouting and putting her hands on her hips as she gave Dareen a glare.

  From either side of the structure came several Ulathans. Walter was on one side, and he tossed one of the slave bricks to Dareen underhanded as she caught it then moved into the structure behind the brigand, and from the other side were two Ulathan women, Marge and Estelle, both armed with their wooden bowls.

  With one quick blow, striking with all her might, Dareen had raised the brick over her head and brought it down on the brigand’s head, cracking his skull slightly and knocking the man to the ground unconscious.

  “What in Agon did you just do?” Vika said, shock coming across her face as she witnessed the act.

  “Not what I did, but what did you do?” Dareen said, looking at Vika and smiling.

  Vika and her friend started to back away, looking from Dareen to Walter, who now approached while Marge
and Estelle came up from behind them.

  Quickly the girls tried to run, but the older women whacked at them with their wooden bowls and Walter quickly grabbed them one by one and threw them inside the shack as Inga exited, stepping over Bricks’s body.

  There was quite a commotion as the girls started yelling and protesting as the door was shut and Walter held it firmly in place. Dareen could see movement on the top of the wall as the guards there moved to get a better vantage point of the area.

  “Quick now, go on with the plan and get the guards,” Dareen said as Marge ran off. Estelle and Dareen left Walter, who nodded and went round to their shack in the back with Inga. Quickly they started to undo all that they had done with the Ulathan barmaid, adding dirt back to her skin, ruffling her hair, bringing it across her face while undoing the lacing on the dress.

  Soon the sound of boots could be heard as guards approached, and with a final nod, Inga headed to the latrine pits with the brick to finish her transformation while Dareen and Estelle came out of the shanty at the same time that the guards were arriving.

  “Right there, I tell you,” Marge said, pointing at Walter and the door.

  “I locked them up good for you,” Walter said as two brigands pushed him aside and opened the door. Both Vika and her friend practically fell out the door as it was opened, falling to the ground, struggling to stand. Just past them was the brigand Bricks, lying on the ground, bleeding from his head.

  “Take him to the infirmary, now,” a tall commander said, pointing at Bricks and motioning with his hand. Four brigands rushed in and grabbed their companion none too gently, whisking him off to receive medical attention.

  Vika stood and pointed at Dareen. “She did it. She hit your guard with a brick.”

  All eyes fell on Dareen, who stood her ground and looked at the Kesh commander and then back to Vika. “So you’re saying I hit Bricks with a brick?”

  There were still a half-dozen guards standing in a semi-circle around them, over-watched by about the same number of crossbowmen from the palisade wall, and several of them laughed or snickered at the remark.