“Yes,” Mary answered. “I’m Mary, and then that there is Shiela, and Gwen there is the third.”
Dareen frowned. “Another Gwen, eh?”
“Is that bad?” Mary asked.
“No, just the last lady I knew called Gwen had much to be desired,” Dareen said, not wanting to get into this right now.
“Well, then call me Gwenny,” the other girl said, and Dareen saw that she was quite young, perhaps only seventeen or eighteen, and nothing like the Gwen who sat next to her table.
“That will work, Gwenny.” Dareen smiled at the girl, and the children started to laugh quietly and talk amongst themselves.
“Quite now, all of you,” Mary scolded them. “You are all likely to get us arrested if you keep that behavior up.”
“But you are already arrested,” one child said from his perch over Ann’s bunk.
“Quiet, Karl. You heard me now, all of you. Lie down and get back to sleep.” There were signs of discontent, but the children had learned under the harsh Kesh environment and they all rolled over or lay back down in their bunks and at least feigned to sleep as it was certain many of them could not with all the excitement that Dareen’s presence brought them. “Let your daughter sleep and come with us.”
Mary left to allow Dareen a moment, and the three Rockton women gathered to keep watch at the doorway. Dareen soothed Ann’s fears and told her to sleep and that they would leave in a day. Ann reluctantly agreed, and Dareen left her with a kiss on her forehead and walked over to the other women.
“So are all Ulathans this rude?” Mary asked, seemingly offended.
“What?” Dareen asked, not understanding.
“Your name?” Mary asked.
“Oh,” Dareen said, feeling embarrassed at not giving it earlier. “I am Dareen, and to answer your question, I was thrown into the dungeon for hitting a guard with a brick.”
The other women’s shock was evident, and they looked from one to another before Gwenny interrupted Mary. “Did he die?”
“Oh please, Gwen, be quiet and let me ask the questions,” Mary said, giving the younger Rockton woman a look. When there was no protest coming, Mary continued looking at Dareen. “How did you get from the dungeon to here?”
Dareen wasn’t about to tell anyone her secret, and she wasn’t sure they would believe her even if she did, so she answered facetiously. “I walked.” Mary frowned and was about to speak, but Dareen continued. “We don’t have time for this. What is important is that you know I can get here, so the question is will you let me take the children or not?”
“Only if you take us with you,” Mary said, and the other two women nodded.
“Fine, but I’m not sure we’ll have enough room in the wagons for everyone,” Dareen said, looking back at the children. “How many children are there, anyway?”
“Nineteen,” Mary answered.
“Why so few?” Dareen asked.
“Because that is all the little ones there are,” Mary explained. “The older children are working nearby, and there are a couple dozen more of them.”
“Are their parents in the brick pits?” Dareen asked.
“No, just the ones you see here,” Mary said. “The others work in the factory line with their older children.”
“Factory?” Dareen asked, not understanding what Mary was referring to, but it was clear there were only nineteen children here.
“It’s a long story,” Mary began. “Do you have a plan?”
“Yes,” Dareen began, and she took the time to lay out her plan. The other women pointed out various issues with it, and slowly the four women worked out something that seemed more plausible than Dareen just walking out the front gate with a score of children. Their planning took them several hours, and the faint sound of a rooster could be heard far away to herald the coming of the dragon’s fire.
“It will be morning soon,” Mary said. “Time for you to go.”
“Do you really think this will work?” Shiela asked.
“I hope so,” Dareen answered, and she gave the women most of the nightshade, putting a small amount back in her hair and heading for the stairs. “It will if you can do what you said you can do.”
“Be careful,” Mary said. “We’ll all hang for this if they catch us.”
“I will,” Dareen replied, and she began her trek back to her cell, wondering how in Agon she had managed to get his far.
“Do you think she’s still alive?” Marge asked as they prepared to begin another’s day work in the brick pits.
“I’m sure she is,” Wally said, not looking so confident.
Inga bumped into the trio and snorted, making a few strands of hair go flying up and out from her face before they gently floated back down again to conceal it. “She’s most likely dead and we will be too, either tonight or tomorrow morning.”
“Stop being so optimistic,” Wally countered, trying vainly to interject some humor into their conversation and failing miserably.
“So do we continue as planned?” Estelle asked.
They looked at each other and then nodded silently. Walter spoke. “I’ll have old Mrs. Stone create a distraction when we’re done. You all have your hiding places picked out already?”
“Yes, quit your worrying and let’s just hope they don’t miss us,” Estelle said.
“I don’t see how they can’t,” Marge said, shaking her head.
“You all just follow my plan. I’ll move the barrow from the pits to the bricks and get you all to help. Let me get you all covered first, and then I’ll take care of myself,” Wally said.
Inga placed a hand on his arm. “I’ll hide you last, and then I can take care of myself.”
“No, it’s too dangerous,” Wally said.
Marge seemed more than happy to let Inga take the risk. “Shut up, you old coot, and let the woman speak.”
Inga nodded though they couldn’t see her face very well, but they could hear her just fine. “I’m already invisible.”
That wasn’t far from the truth, and though they didn’t know for sure what she had in mind, they were willing to trust her if that was what it took.
“Let’s move out, you lazy scum,” one of the slave masters yelled at the group of Ulathan slaves milling around, and the group headed toward their stations as the morning sun rose, and they hoped never to return that way again. They understood they’d either succeed or die.
Dareen had managed to return and breathe a sigh of relief to find the cells exactly as she had left them. Grimer sat with his head on his arms in front of his desk, and the comforting sound of snores wafted up to greet her as she entered. The sounds were welcome at first, but then she realized that the damn fat Kesh guard may not wake up in time and actually get caught sleeping. She wasn’t sure what would happen if he were replaced by a more attentive guard, one that didn’t imbibe during the night, and so she had to act fast when she heard the sounds of boots approaching and Grimer didn’t wake.
Dareen had kept her cell open just a crack and stood ready to close it after she had returned the extra set of keys on the hook by the wall. She tiptoed over to the water barrel and grabbed the ladle, filling it with water, and then she backpedaled till she was almost to her cell, throwing the ladle filled with water at Grimer.
The water and ladle hit the man at the same time that she stepped into her cell and slammed it, making a loud noise. Grimer sputtered and sat up, almost falling backward in the act, wiping water away and rubbing his eyes. Someone was banging on the iron gate and yelling for it to be opened. Finally the voice ordered it open from the outside as Grimer stood patting himself and feeling his keys on his belt.
The men entering the dungeon greeted Grimer in the hallway as he came around his desk into view, ignoring Dareen, who slid down and brought her legs up to her chest. “What are you doing? Sleeping while on watch?”
Grimer stuttered and then thought quickly on his feet. “No, Commander, I waz washing up as ya ordered yesterday, don’tz ya rememb
er?”
Commander Cruxes did remember. “You do seem to look cleaner, and that foul stench you carried about has dissipated considerably since yesterday.”
“Yes, Commander, good Grimer here’z does all he must for the masters.” Grimer sounds absolutely disgusting, Dareen thought, keeping the urge to wretch from her mind.
“See to it that cells are cleaned and ready for inspection tomorrow before we leave. Master Alister wants to inspect our arrangements with the witch and see if she can perform a demonstration for him, so have it ready to go, no excuses.”
Dareen peeked from the side and saw Grimer nodding and making a short bow. “Yes, Commander, I will.”
Cruxes departed with his guards, and Grimer started to move off and perform his daily tasks, cursing at the fact that he now had to clean the cells and not only himself. He was clearly heard mumbling that he’d not lift a finger and be sure to get his guards to do the cleaning while he oversaw them.
Dareen noted the one nice thing about being imprisoned after being up all night—she rolled over and went to sleep.
Dareen woke once for her morning feeding and ate quickly and then went back to sleep, not bothering with her stale bedding. The evening feeding came at sundown, and the racket the guards caused woke her. The realization of what she was about to do shot adrenaline into her body, and she found her heart pumping and her breathing heavy.
Just calm down now, Dareen said to herself, willing herself to be at peace. She started to overthink their plans, seeing a dozen ways for it not to succeed, and feeling helpless to prevent its failure.
The hours passed by, and whether by providence, luck, or both, Grimer kept to himself, having spent the better part of the day overseeing his guards cleaning the cells. They hadn’t reached her cell yet, and she was thankful for that. She figured he was saving hers for last. The ritual from the prior night was repeated, and the young guard returned to watch over her as Grimer raided the kitchen for leftovers.
“So ya didn’tz rat that slimy fat one out yet, did yaz?” he asked.
“The master will be here tomorrow for the inspection, haven’t you heard?” Dareen asked.
He nodded. “Yup, and we’z all ready in the kitchen, though dem bratz up der been acting weird all day.”
“Oh, how’s that?” Dareen asked.
“Dey seem happy,” he said.
“I can see how that would seem weird for someone in Kesh as a slave to be happy.” Dareen smiled, trying to show that she was now happy.
The young man nodded, looking at her with narrowed eyes. “Don’tz go tellin’ me you’ze happy too.”
“Oh, very,” Dareen lied. “I’m so happy to see what trouble that Grimer gets into after I rat him out.”
Dareen wasn’t sure what ratting someone out meant either, but it seemed to indicate telling on someone to get them in trouble. Her Kesh slang was lacking, but she was learning.
In due time, Grimer returned, and the young guard gave her a knowing wink as if they were in on a secret that poor Grimer would be the victim of. Dareen played her part and winked back, walking over to her bedding and lying down.
“Don’t think you’re going to sleep all day and all night,” Grimer said to her.
Dareen ignored the man and feigned sleep, waiting for the telltale signs of his sleeping, mainly being that she expected to hear him snoring. She waited and waited for what seemed like an eternity. Nothing. Finally, she rolled over, keeping her eyes shut and then opening them a tiny bit, hoping to see him asleep. He was wide awake.
You’ve got to be kidding me, she said to herself, starting to worry and trying to maintain her charade of sleeping. The plan called for the kitchen staff to serve the gate guards with some of the nightshade after the midnight’s bell tolled and the guard changed, but that would all be in jeopardy if she didn’t show up. When would the fat fool finally fall asleep?
Grimer stood and stretched, taking a walk up and down the corridor to stay awake. Dareen worried that he could be actually trying to stand guard, perhaps afraid that there would be a surprise inspection that very night. She felt that she had to do something, but she was at a complete loss as to what it should be. She stood, acting as if she just woke up, and then walked over to the bars to look at Grimer.
“What’z you lookin’ at, wench?” he said.
Dareen eyed him, pulling her hair back a bit and gripping the bars tightly. She was about to play the last card dealt to her. “Wench, now is it? I thought I was a witch.”
“Aye, you be that too,” Grimer said, chuckling softly to himself.
“Well, this wench is gonna vex you and then I’ll hex you and be sure that the next time you use soap, you’ll never be able to rid yourself of its smell.” It was a pure bluff and gamble. She was betting that he didn’t like soap or the smell of it.
“What’z soap got to do wit dis?” he said.
All right, soap is out. Let’s try something different. “Well, I’ll just have to make sure that you never enjoy the taste of food again,” she said.
That seemed to strike a nerve. “You’ze wouldn’t dare . . . witch!” Grimer said, narrowing his eyes and giving her an evil glare.
Dareen waved her arms about wildly and mumbled gibberish for effect before saying in common, “There, now I’ve turned your food to ash and your drink to water. Enjoy that for the rest of your miserable Kesh life.”
“Why, you’ze miserable . . .” Grimer started to stutter and stammer and got up, grabbing his wooden stick he used to beat prisoners, and Dareen backpedaled to the wall, never taking her eyes off of him.
He reached the cell and felt for his keys, and Dareen wondered for a moment if she had pushed him too far. She quickly tried one more tact, lying down and motioning for him to come to her. “Come on, you fool. I’ll be sure to take something else from you as well.”
Grimer’s face went red, and he glared a look that indicated he was contemplating murder. He stood there for a long moment before finally releasing his keys and returning to his desk. Dareen rolled over, showing him her back, and waited. It didn’t take long.
She couldn’t see him, but she heard the drawer open, the sound of the stopper coming out, and the sound of someone chugging a liquid as if in a hurry. Soon she heard him mutter, “Ha, stupid wench, tastes az good as da day it’z came from da vine.”
Dareen almost forgot to breathe, and after a long while, over half an hour by her reckoning, she heard what sounded like music to her ears. Snoring.
She repeated the process from the previous evening, unshackling herself first and then opening the gate and retrieving the spare set of keys. She would leave the set that Grimer had in his possession. She didn’t like the Kesh dungeon master, but she didn’t want to be responsible for his execution either if they thought he lost his keys.
She was loathe to leave anyone else behind, but the occasional sound she heard gave her the chills, and it didn’t sound as if it came from a sane human and definitely not from any Ulathan. She wasn’t sure what other kinds of creatures or people they had locked up down here with her, and she was intent to save the children.
Moving carefully, she had to pause when she heard the chiming of the bell as it indicated a shift change. She waited for yet another half hour till the sounds of booted feet were heard no longer in the chambers and corridors of the Kesh castle. When she reached the kitchen, she found the trio of Rockton women working there, preparing a last meal and filling cups with hot tea. Shiela saw her first and motioned to Mary, who nodded and approached the kitchen boss.
“Have you seen the rodents in the far pantry?” Mary asked the man.
“What’z your problem now?” He answered her question with one of his own.
“Come here,” she said, motioning for him to follow. When he didn’t, she raised her voice. “Fine, you stupid Kesh fool, I’ll be sure to tell your wizard master that you let rat turds get into his food, then.”
“How dare you,” the man said, and then he walked ove
r to her and slapped her across the face. Mary held her ground and put her hands on her hips. “Go on’z, dumb woman, showz me the rats.”
Mary motioned for him and led the way out of the kitchen toward some unseen pantry. Gwenny ran to the gated door and pulled it open. It was unlocked, and she motioned for Dareen to enter. Dareen ran and descended the stairs, amazed at Mary’s courage. When she reached the bottom, the children weren’t ready as planned and were all in their bunks sound asleep.
Dareen walked over to Ann’s bunk and looked at her daughter. Ann seemed to be breathing shallowly, and suddenly she opened an eye and winked at her mother. “Hullo, Mommy.”
Dareen pulled back on the old fabric to see her daughter dressed and shoed and ready to go. “The others?” Dareen asked.
“We’re all up,” Karl said, peering over his bunk and smiling at her.
“Well, I’ll be. Some tricksters you are,” Dareen said.
“Learned it from Gwenny,” another child said, getting out of bed.
Dareen motioned for the children to follow her to the base of the stairwell, and they lined up in order from youngest to oldest. “Who told you to do this?” Dareen asked.
“Mary said it was best to keep our formation tonight,” one child said.
“Is this what you always do?” Dareen asked Ann as she knelt and held her daughter’s shoulders in both hands.
“Yes, Mommy. The Kesh don’t like us running around.” Ann smiled.
“I bet they don’t,” Dareen said. “All right now, everyone quiet as a mouse and stay in line until you’re told otherwise.”
Dareen had put her finger to her lips, and the children mimicked her, making no sound whatsoever. Satisfied that they were ready, Dareen waited until she heard the sounds of soft feet approaching, a slender woman for sure, not the heavy booted feet of a Kesh guard or worker.
Gwenny showed up and whispered, “We’re ready when you are.”
Dareen nodded, and the children followed her as they ascended the stairs. When they reached the top, Dareen’s heart almost sank. There, against the far wall, stood two Kesh guards. Slenderer than any she had seen, they . . . No, wait, those weren’t Kesh. It was Mary and Shiela, and they looked ridiculous, dressed in Kesh black leathers with oversized helmets on their heads.
Dead Druid: Claire-Agon Ranger Book 2 (Ranger Series) Page 31