“Most of us will go with her too,” Marge said, her voice sounding defeated.
“Not if I can help it,” Dareen said, sounding more confident now. “What do they do with informers?”
“You mean like Vika or those who inform them of what we are up to?” Wally asked.
Dareen nodded, and then Inga spoke. “They usually leave them alone, give them extra rations or special privileges . . .”
“Exactly,” Dareen said, snapping her fingers again too loudly for the other’s comfort.
“What are you getting at?” Estelle asked, looking around to see if the Kesh were coming with guards or if anyone else was spying on their conversation.
“What I intend to do,” Dareen said, lowering her voice and leaning forward, “is to have you all turn me in.”
“Yup, she done gone and bumped her head,” Wally said, getting an elbow in his rib again from his wife.
“No, she makes perfect sense,” Inga said, understanding better than the others. “If we turn her in, the Kesh will lose interest in all of us.”
“All right, but how does that help Dareen when they take her and execute her? I’m all for saving my own life, not to mention those of our children, but just giving them her isn’t something I think I can do,” Estelle said, concern evident in her voice and tone.
“Let me handle that,” Dareen said. “I have a plan, but what I do need is the wagons set up near my table to have places to hide the children. Wally, I’ll need your help there.”
“What did you have in mind?” Wally asked.
“You all said that the very youngest children stay with their mothers somewhere else, right?” Dareen asked.
“That is correct, deary,” Marge said, sounding motherly. “My own daughter and our grandson were taken and are kept somewhere else, maybe not in this town either.”
“Right.” Dareen almost snapped her fingers and then resisted the urge, obtaining approval from Wally and Estelle. “So the rest of the children here belong to those of us in the stockade. How many would you say there are?”
“I can answer that,” Estelle said. “Most of us here are older or really young, so our children are either all grown up or most of us are too young to have had children yet, like that Vika girl and her friend, or Inga here.”
Inga looked at Estelle. “I’m old enough, just haven’t found the right man yet.”
“Yes, nothing offensive meant, just saying that there are perhaps only two dozen children kept in the Kesh town, in the castle there, if I understand correctly.”
“They are,” Inga confirmed. “More than one parent has confirmed this.”
“Well, my boy, Matthew, tells me they clean and help with the laundry, cooking, and dishes in the castle complex. He says they spend their nights locked in a side pantry off the kitchen, some sleeping in the loft, others on the floor,” Estelle said.
“Terrible.” Marge shook her head.
“So what’s your plan?” Wally asked.
“Tomorrow you set up the wagons near my table so that the bricks are laid in such a manner that will allow the children to hide inside of them.” Dareen nodded, motioning toward the brick pits.
“Like, place them normally, except create a hollow space inside?” Wally asked.
Dareen nodded. “Exactly.”
“But won’t the top be exposed?” Estelle asked.
“Not if we lay a form across it and then one layer of bricks on top,” Dareen offered, seeing the first sign of hope in her companions’ faces.
“I see what you’re getting at.” Wally smiled. “I think I can manage something, though I doubt it can hold that many children.”
“That is why we’ll need, say, four wagons.” Dareen calculated the number in her mind and held up her fingers on one hand.
“That’s too many,” Inga said. “I think we only need two or three.”
“Yes, if it were just the children, but we need help for them. We can’t just send them back to Ulatha smuggled in a brigand caravan all alone. We’ll need one adult per wagon, say accompanying six children each.”
“Are you mad?” Wally asked yet again, losing his optimistic expression as it was quickly filled with a frown. “I still don’t know how you intend to get the children down to the wagons undetected, but getting four of us from the stockade back to the pits again is impossible.”
“Not if you never leave the pits . . .” Dareen let her words linger as the others took them in.
“But they perform a head count every day,” Marge said, protesting the idea.
“No, they don’t,” Inga chimed in. “They only perform a line count, how many lines are manned by slaves, and if each line has the proper number of slaves for it.”
“How do you know so much?” Wally said, narrowing his eyes at the dirty young woman.
“I’ve been watching them closely now for months. I know what they do, and they most certainly don’t count several hundred of us each day. We march in and out of here too disorganized for that,” Inga stated confidently.
“All right, so then how do we get them to miss us in the afternoon roundup?” Wally countered.
“That will be a bit trickier, but I have some ideas,” Dareen said, looking for a reaction from her fellow conspirators. Seeing no objection, she continued. “We can either use the mud pit itself to hide, breathing through straw tubing, or we can hide under the barrows when they are stored for the evening.”
Her companions were silent for a long moment as they mulled her words over. “That may just work,” Wally said.
“It sounds dangerous.” Marge looked to her husband.
“It is. Everything we do is, but sitting here and doing nothing is also dangerous. What if they decide to sell us or move us or kill us for other purposes? We can’t wait for death to come. We’ll have to take matters into our own hands while we have some advantages, small though they are,” Dareen stated, making her case.
“What advantages are those?” Estelle asked.
“The bird, her witchcraft, and a plan,” Inga said, supporting Dareen.
“Fine, enough talk, then. Let’s make this happen,” Wally said. “What’s first?”
Dareen smiled. “You turn me in tonight, right after the meal is served—”
“I wouldn’t exactly call it a meal. Slop is more appropriate,” Estelle commented, interrupting Dareen.
“Yes, slop, gruel, grub, food, whatever,” Dareen said, not allowing herself to get sidetracked. “You will prepare the wagons tomorrow, and when they round you all up to return, each of you will hide in the pits until I return with the children. Then we will hide with the children and leave with the wagons at first light.”
“How do you know the wagons will be ready to leave the day after tomorrow?” Estelle asked.
“Inga knows,” Dareen said, nodding to the ex-barmaid.
“Dareen is correct,” Inga said. “The caravan departs every third morning before we arrive, and new carts are brought in right behind them. The last wagons left yesterday morning.”
“One of us will have to stay behind,” Wally said. “I’ll need to cover you with the barrows and improvise should the Kesh come looking for you back here.”
“No!” Marge said, her voice raised much louder, eliciting a look from several Ulathans at a nearby table. “You can’t do this to me.”
“My love,” Wally began, his words conveying the love and emotion he felt for his wife, “I must do this for you and the children. I’ll be all right.”
“Well, I’m not leaving you. I’ll stay behind as well,” Marge said, tears welling up in her eyes.
“You can’t. It’s too dangerous, and did you not hear what the wood-lady said?” Wally motioned with a nod toward Dareen. “She said our fellow countrymen are out there now, fighting for our freedom. Freedom is waiting for you all.”
“Not without you,” Marge said, crying openly now and hugging her husband from her seated position, burying her head in his chest.
�
��Shush,” Inga interrupted, her eyes darting toward the wall where a Kesh bowman stopped his patrolling to look down at them. His bow was aimed at the group, and he stood there for a long moment before scowling and walking away.
“You two can discuss that later,” Dareen said. “For now, we have to start our plan and soon. We may also need a distraction tomorrow night.”
“I can arrange that,” Wally said, “if I stay behind.” Marge just shook her head.
“I’m in,” Estelle said. “I want to free my son and be rid of this place once and for all.”
Inga nodded. “I too want to be free, and if we can help the children, so much the better, but what if some of the parents don’t want their children to be taken away?”
“Well, you’ve never been a mother,” Marge said, sniffling and attempting to calm herself.
“No, Inga is correct,” Dareen stated. “We need to have permission from the parents before we do this. It is the right thing to do, but we need to do it fast.”
“What do you have in mind?” Estelle asked.
“Go now, each of you, except Marge there. Let her stay with me and ask each parent if they want their child out of here or not,” Dareen said.
“You’re taking a big risk,” Wally said, looking at Dareen and wondering exactly how this woman was going to pull this off.
“I don’t care, go now and ask. I have something else I need to prepare.”
“What is that?” Inga asked, standing to leave.
“Argyll retrieved something for me and dropped it on my table this morning. I have to prepare it and hide it before they take me,” Dareen said.
“What in Agon are you talking about?” Wally said, also standing and releasing himself from his wife’s grip.
“Nightshade,” Dareen smiled.
Dareen was referring to a herb that grew in the wild as well as occasionally being domestically cultivated. It was usually found in higher elevations, but the Border Mountains were nearby and Argyll had managed to obtain enough of the plant and deposit it on the table that he had seen Dareen working on the night after he left, leaving it just before dawn and then flying back to Ulatha to secure the second part of their plan.
Dareen had found the herb scatters on her table and on the ground nearby where the early morning breeze had blown it. She hid it in her dress and now had to wound it up tightly around her hair pin and hide it from any search by the Kesh. She didn’t know how attentive they would be, and she had heard stories about making the slaves strip and change clothes after immersing themselves in water to root out contraband and weapons. She had to be sure.
Dinner was being served, and the groups had lined up on either side, working their way from the outer tables inward and then returning to their places to eat. It was a simple matter to catch each parent as they stood in line or sat eating their meal. While some were doubtful, not a single parent wished their child another day in Kesh. Dareen had her permission.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Estelle asked as the others listened intently.
“Yes.” Dareen nodded, sitting at her table and finishing her food, what could very well be her last meal ever. “Remember, tomorrow afternoon, hide in the pits or under the barrows. I’ll be there, and if I can’t, then resume your work the next day. At the worst, you’ll all miss two meals and nothing more.”
“I think you mean at best, or at least, second best,” Inga said, correcting Dareen.
“I have to agree with the young lady,” Wally said, giving Inga a slight nod. “I would be surprised if they don’t kill you this evening, even more surprised if they don’t catch us all tomorrow afternoon, and absolutely flabbergasted if you managed to show up by yourself, the day after tomorrow, much less without any child.”
“I know,” Dareen said, her voice low and her expression solemn. “Perhaps you are correct, but we have to try. They will, most likely, kill us all after they learn what really happened from that Bricks brigand, and I’m certain our young lady friend Vika won’t hesitate to tell them everything that happened yesterday.”
“Oh, that tart will sing like a bird,” Marge muttered under her breath, though audible enough for everyone to hear.
“Go on now, Estelle, you and Wally bring the guards to me. Remember what I said, tell them I was using witchcraft to prepare an escape and tell them where I hid the brick.”
Dareen was referring to the brick used to hit the brigand by the same name. It was ironic in a way, but fitting nonetheless. Estelle had to ask one more time. “The brick will be your death warrant. You sure we have to tell them about that?”
“Yes, it needs to be convincing,” Dareen said, looking at her companions seriously. “I’m making a bet that those magic-users of theirs will want to know more about my alleged witchcraft abilities.”
“You’re making a very large gamble,” Inga stated.
“With your life,” Wally finished for her.
“I know, just do it before I change my mind.”
Estelle and Wally nodded while Marge stifled a sob and Inga started to move her hair back into place to cover her face again. The transformation still amazed Dareen. It didn’t take long before the sound of heavy-booted feet were heard approaching their table. Dareen sat with her back to the guards and gate, not really wanting to see them approach. She would be able to maintain her resolve if she couldn’t see them.
“You, wood-witch, get up,” a familiar voice sounded.
Dareen stood and turned to face the very same Kesh commander she had dealt with the previous day. “What is it . . . Kesh?” Dareen said, using his nationality as a slander, which was not lost on the man.
“I warned you there was to be no lying. You have been accused of fermenting dissent, trying to escape, and worse, assaulting a guard. What say you?”
The commander had at least a dozen guards this time, and the soldiers at the gate and atop the wall were easily doubled. It was obvious that they were prepared for something to happen this very evening, anyway, so Dareen felt better about her decision. “What proof do you have, Commander?”
The man looked to Estelle, and she motioned toward the rear. The commander barked orders for everyone to move out, and the entire group was either led or pushed toward the rear of the compound until they reached the showers and latrines. There, a short half barrel of brackish water sat, and the commander motioned for a guard, indicating the barrel when Estelle nodded.
The guard drew an axe and in two quick strokes broke the barrel asunder, spilling the water and leaving pieces of rotted wood all over the place and a lone rusted metal band that had been used to hold it together. Reaching inside, the brigand pulled out a wet but freshly made brick.
“I think we have our proof, though the testimony against you was more than sufficient,” the Kesh leader said, looking around at the group. “You’ll burn for this.”
“Perhaps I’ll cast a charm first and render your guards speechless,” Dareen countered, her mouth dry, her heart pounding in her chest, but she tried desperately to appear calm and cool.
“Your threats may work on our conscripts, wood-witch, but we know how to deal with dabblers in the arcane. Guards, take her away.” The commander motioned as he had done the prior night with Vika and her friend, and Dareen felt strong hands grab her arms and tug at her toward the gate. With a final act of defiance, she spat at the commander, hitting him in the face.
“You are cursed to never be loved by a woman ever again,” Dareen said, dragging her feet and letting the guards do all the heavy work. It was done out of spite and real anger, which overcame her fear for a brief moment.
“Bring me some fresh water, now!” the commander ordered, wiping his face with the back of his glove and giving Dareen a last glare. She didn’t know if he believed her or not, but he’d not be able to find out so easily and it was done in front of his men. They, on the other hand, may very well believe it if he was scorned by a woman and it was only circumstance. She felt she had a small chance to so
w some more doubt on her captors.
The Ulathans at the front of the stockade watched, some in horror, some with pity, and some with smug looks of content, as if a miscreant was finally removed from his or her bad behavior by a stern parent. Dareen didn’t care; she only knew that despite Vika and her friend’s bad judgment and poor behavior, they wouldn’t die for Dareen’s actions, and if she was really lucky, the Kesh would no longer focus on the plans that Estelle, Wally, and Marge had been working on for the last month. Indeed, she was willing to give her life for the six Ulathans, if you included Inga with the poor girls and the trio who comprised of her original companions.
The journey was swift, but Dareen watched attentively as they passed the brick pits and crested a small berm coming within site of the town of Ulsthor, which sat a good twenty-minute walk due west. They, however, were heading toward the tall castle complex a mere ten minutes away, lying between the pit and the town. As they traveled a well-worn dirt road, Dareen took in the castle and its layout.
The structure was old, much older than anything built in recent memory. The patches of bricks mortared over where the large black stone walls were crumbling away was painfully obvious, even in the dim light of the night with the only illumination coming from oil lights burning at intervals in large dishes along the road, elevated on wooden poles. She had a vague memory of being there before as they opened the main gate to let her in. She had two guards pulling on her, literally carrying her, while four more trailed behind. At least, she thought it was four as she glanced behind for a quick second after crossing what seemed to be a dry moat on a drawbridge.
There was a side door in the inner courtyard, and she did remember that when she was brought out from one of the towers. This time, however, she was led down a set of wide stairs that accessed a long corridor. “Gots me another one, eh?” a larger Kesh guard said as he used a rusted key on a large iron ring to open a gate at the beginning of the corridor.
“Ja, it’s that wood-witch thats we done heard about,” one of the brigands said, waiting for the gate to open. “Where do you want her?”
Dead Druid: Claire-Agon Ranger Book 2 (Ranger Series) Page 24