Dareen ran down the berm, past the last wagons loaded with bricks, past the ovens, the tables, and the mud pits, reaching Inga at the start of the road that allowed the wagons to enter. Inga collapsed in her arms, and Dareen used a pile of hay that was not on fire to shield themselves from the prying eyes of the Kesh.
“I guess I’m not so invisible anymore,” Inga said, spitting up blood onto her chin as she smiled at Dareen. Her face went pale and her body shook for a second.
Dareen kept Inga from falling all the way back, worried at what that would do to the bolt stuck in her back. It could push it all the way through, so Dareen held her tightly to her chest. “Don’t you worry none about that now. The mother sees you, her lady sees you, and you don’t need to be invisible anymore.”
Inga nodded, grimacing in pain. “The children, are they safe?”
“Yes,” Dareen said, taking a moment to secure Inga in her left arm and using her right, she brushed the hair back on her head, moving her bangs from her face and securing her hair behind Inga’s left ear. “You freed our children. They will remember your name forever.”
Inga smiled, eyes glazing slightly, and she struggled to speak one last time. “Tell . . . my man . . . that I freed the children. He . . . would . . . be proud . . . of me.”
“Shhh, now you can tell him yourself, but what’s his name?” Dareen asked.
Inga’s body shook, and she grimaced again in pain, and then slowly she fell still and breathed easily as if relieved for a moment. “His name . . . is . . . ” There was no more. Inga stopped breathing, and her eyes were locked on Dareen’s.
Crying, Dareen took her free hand and closed Inga’s eyelids and then held her tightly for a moment, grief overcoming her until she heard a sound that brought anger and hatred out from locked doors in her soul, where they banished fear and sorrow, allowing Dareen to act.
“Kill the other wench,” one voice said from nearby.
“Kill the witch,” said another.
Dareen laid Inga’s body on the ground, feeling the bolt in her back snap off, and she wiped a tear from her eye. She stood, grabbing the crude spear she had laid at her side, and looked over the hay pile.
“Over here, laddies. I’ve found da damn wenches,” a brigand guard said, looking to his side and waving his comrades over.
Dareen gripped the spear, hefting it overhead in a move that she had almost forgotten. A move that Baldric, her beloved husband, had taught her when they had gone hunting together for boar many years ago. Inhaling deeply, Dareen took three steps forward, planting her right foot into the ground and remembering to follow through with her shoulder. She hurled the spear at the brigand who returned his gaze to face her.
“What the—” were the brigand’s last words as the spear took the guard square in his chest, killing him instantly and knocking him on his back as his crossbow fell from his hands to lie useless on the ground in front of him. Never had Dareen felt so satisfied than she did seeing that weapon of murder fall in front of Inga’s killer.
“Get down, she’s armed,” a more articulate guard yelled.
Pulling herself together, Dareen ran behind her to the wagons and then along the rutted road to where the pair of horses were tied. Untying both, she let one free and mounted the other with great effort. She felt another tinge of grief at seeing Inga’s mount run off in front of her, and she pulled hard on the horse’s reins to get it to move out along the road.
Galloping off, she heard bolts whizzing in the air around her, and she ducked low in the saddle, stealing a look behind her. Over a dozen Kesh guards were running, half with crossbows, across the pits, chasing after her, but she was too fast for them on her mount. The horse neighed wildly as it reached the inclined ramp portion of the road, and she could feel it pounding the hard dirt as it left the pit.
Freedom was within reach as she crested the pit’s berm and was instantly met with a large wooden paddle in her face. The blow was a glancing one, but it gave her a bloody nose as another paddle hit the horse on its head. Five teamsters jumped in front of the horse with two of them brandishing similar spears. The horse reared up, halting its charge, which had been slowed by the uphill incline, and Dareen tried hard to spur it on. The other men were trying to grab the horse’s reins and stop it. Neither Dareen nor the teamsters succeeded.
The horse was hit with three bolts, two in its body and the last one clipping the creature’s neck, causing blood to gush from its jugular artery. With one last heave, the horse rolled over and landed on its side, knocking the wind from Dareen and pinning her left leg under it. The ground spun and the stars above seemed to twinkle strangely as she struggled to breathe, only faintly aware of the voices around her.
“Kill the witch now,” one said.
“Damn good waste of a horse,” said another.
She didn’t know how long she was down. She could see faces peering down at her from all angles, and she felt a sharp pain coming from her torso as her mind cleared. She had the distinct feeling that she had broken a rib when she had hit the ground with such force. Suddenly the faces moved off and it became very quiet. Something strange was happening.
Then she heard his voice. “So you have caught the Ulathan woman?” Alister said.
“We have da witch, Master,” a Kesh guard said.
“Of course she’s the witch,” Alister said, his voice condescending as if scolding the guard. “No other Ulathan woman matters. They are all slaves. There remains only one Ulathan woman. Is she dead?”
“Well, no, Master,” a voice said. “I meanz, she was twitching not longz ago . . .”
A face appeared with a tasseled, pointy hat from over her head. “She is breathing, so she is alive.”
“What are your orders, Master Alister?” Commander Dax said, his voice coming from nearby, firm, more educated, and commanding.
“Interesting,” Alister said, stroking his beard with one hand and fiddling his fingers on his metallic staff with his other. “I should have her organs sent to the apothecary for potion-making in the labs, but she is still intriguing. Perhaps we should wait on that for a while longer.”
“What about the code?” Commander Cruxes asked. Dareen recognized his voice as Grimer’s commander, the leader of the castle troops, as opposed to Dax, who commanded the slave troops.
Alister’s face disappeared for a moment, and Dareen had to crane her neck to see the two men at a sideways angle. “Has he actually invoked it after this debacle?” the apprentice asked.
“He has,” Cruxes replied.
“That stupid fool doesn’t deserve the code. He should be thrown in his own dungeon,” Dax said from somewhere behind Dareen.
Dareen watched as Cruxes shot a wicked glare past her, presumably at Dax. “She was in your care first. Don’t forget that . . . Commander.”
Dax bit his tongue, but Dareen was certain she heard the man snort in anger. Alister looked at both men before stepping back to look at Dareen more closely. “Hmm, very well,” Alister said. “Take her to the death chamber and put her in it. Be sure to heal her wounds sufficiently so she can participate in the code.”
“She doesn’t deserve our aid,” Cruxes said.
“Neither does Grimer,” Dax said.
“I don’t like the fat oaf either, but he is a Kesh and she is Ulathan. The code is proper for this situation,” Cruxes said.
“Yes,” Alister said, smiling a wicked grin, “but the code also invokes punishment for failure.”
“What are you saying, Master?” Cruxes asked.
Alister looked at Dareen and smiled at her. “I am saying that our dungeon master will be punished first, and then he may have his revenge.” The men stood, changing their weight from one foot to another, but no one spoke against the magic-user’s decree. “Being part of his command, you are recused from administering the punishment, Commaner Cruxes. You, Commander Dax, will execute the penalty. Burn his eyes out and throw him in the death chamber with the witch. By dawn, we will have only o
ne survivor of the code, and justice will have been meted out fairly.”
“He’s a fool, but we shouldn’t be treating him like a filthy Ulathan,” Cruxes said, his last attempt to defend the fat dungeon guard.
Alister’s face became sinister-looking, and he turned to Cruxes. “I could simply have him hanged in the courtyard and be done with it.”
A long moment paused, and then Cruxes made his decision. The lazy, dirty guard wasn’t worth his command any longer. Shifting gears, Cruxes asked, “What about the prisoners?”
Alister laughed. “They will not get far. I will contact my counterpart at the pass and have him send a patrol down the road to intercept them. At first light, send a mounted patrol after them along the road.”
“What are our orders when we find them?” Cruxes asked.
Alister never missed a beat. “Kill them.”
“And the children?” the Kesh commander asked, tension in his voice.
After a long pause, Alister said, “Especially the children.”
Dareen felt her world go dizzy at the proclamation, and her body was being pulled as the teamsters and guards lifted the horse in order to free her. The pain was excruciating, and in seconds, darkness overtook her and she remembered no more.
Chapter 24
Culverts and Towers
“I don’t see anyone,” Salina noted from the same ridgeline that Targon had crept up on months before.
“Looks too quiet, if you ask me,” Will said, fidgeting with one of his bandages, and before he dressed over them, Horace had said that he looked like one of those far southern mummies they had seen on tapestries in the great hall in Korwell.
“I am sure there are guards everywhere,” Khan said.
“So, do we still try for the eastern culvert?” Will asked, looking at Salina.
“May as well. The far western one would require us crossing the grounds of the entire town or those fields, and if we tried to stay hidden, we’d have to go all the way south to the other ridgeline before coming back up.”
“Did you place any emphasis on the culverts or which ones would receive a higher level of attention?” Cedric asked Khan, and both Salina and Will gave him a look.
Khan didn’t seem to notice Cedric’s verbose manner, taking it for granted, and simply responded, “No, the open culverts were either sealed or barred with gates and magic.”
“You didn’t block all of them?” Salina asked.
“No, Mother. They need to have some sort of drainage out of the castle grounds,” Cedric said, half expecting her to know these sort of things.
“The boy is correct. The drainage into the moat is necessary, so some culverts were kept open,” Khan said.
Cedric frowned but had tired long ago of getting anyone to stop calling him “boy,” so he simply gave Khan his usual frown and Khan ignored it as usual as well.
“So we leave at dusk?” Will asked.
“After the sisters start to set would be better,” Salina replied.
“Then you will not have much time to search the king’s chamber,” Khan said.
“We don’t need much time if what Elister said is true,” Cedric replied. “Besides, you’re supposed to be able to use your magic to find it now.”
“We shall see,” Khan began. “I do not put much faith in the druid’s magical predictions, especially seeing how he is a dead druid.”
“When we get there, you do your thing and let me do mine,” Cedric said, almost demanding it.
Khan never batted an eye. “Fine, we will both search for the book.”
The group crawled back to their camp and slept until the sun had set and the twin sisters had risen far into the sky, glowing with their own blue-green lights that looked strange to them when compared to the twinkling whites, blues, and reds of the gemstones scattered across the rest of the sky. The group had traveled for two days till they reached Korwell, taking their time and using caution so as not to come across a Kesh patrol.
When the time came, they left their camp as it was, hidden in a dense grove of poplar trees and alder bushes surrounded by the high green grasses of summer. In some places, the grasses reached past their knees, threatening to reach their waists. If they crouched and walked, it gave them the feeling of protection, and more than once, they had a false alarm and had to duck into the grass, lying down and feeling completely hidden, at least from any casual observer.
The approach to the town was agonizingly slow, and fear gripped them, though they did not speak of it. They all thought they would be caught for sure if walking in the open, but Khan guided them, aided by Will, in what they thought was the best approach without being seen.
When they reached the first burned buildings of the town, they gathered together near a blackened wall that had not fully collapsed but was barely large enough to conceal them. They had to kneel in order to keep behind it.
“So far so good,” Salina said, smiling at them.
“We’ve just started and I remember losing some good men near here,” Will said, his face stern as he fingered the hilt of his sword.
“How do you feel, Will?” Salina asked, nodding to his bandaged arms.
“Well enough, though I’d feel better if I knew we already had the book and were heading back,” Will said.
“Agreed,” Khan interjected, getting looks from the Ulathans, and nodded, understanding the faux pas.
“Just use your magic for us and all is forgiven,” Cedric said, giving Khan a smile.
“I wouldn’t say all, but it’s a start,” Will added.
Salina motioned for the others to follow and was suddenly pulled back by Khan. “Wait till I have a look first.”
Salina nodded and allowed the Kesh wizard, and by now all the Ulathans simply referred to him as a wizard, to use his staff and invoke the charm of seeing, also known as the charm to banish illusions. “Pokozhi sebya.”
Khan looked through the gemstone tip and gazed around the castle walls and then nearer to the buildings. He didn’t see anything noteworthy except a glow coming from the castle gates, which he expected to see. Am-Ohkre had cast a defensive spell on the gates, drawbridge, and portcullis to make them stronger.
“We can go now,” Khan said, nodding at Salina.
Quickly the group ran from building to building until they reached one that stood along the moat and walls of the castle. The moat was dry but muddy in places, serving as a reservoir for water drained from the castle grounds. Elister once told Cedric that many years ago, the moats were filled with water and that the defenses included pouring hot oil on the water and igniting it. That was quite the sight, the old man had said once, many months ago.
The sounds of talking were evident even from the high wall as the noise reverberated off of stone and land to reach their ears. “Sounds like your Kesh brothers are having some fun this night,” Will said, giving Khan a wink.
Khan wasn’t sure what the wink meant under those circumstances and refrained from informing the ignorant Ulathan that the Kesh did not have brothers. They were all cousins.
“Which way, Will?” Salina asked.
“Head toward that turret there, just to the right of us. There is a small culvert that I don’t think they would block there,” Will said.
“Why not?” Salina asked, keeping her voice barely above a whisper.
“Because it drains from the latrines,” Will said, shrugging at her.
“Let us try a different culvert,” Khan suggested.
Will looked at Salina, who also shrugged. “Why?” Will asked.
“Because I do not intend to smell when I finally face my old master,” Khan said.
Salina whispered to Will, “Kesh pride.”
“I see that,” Will replied. “All right, follow me.”
Will took off in the opposite direction until he reached a larger culvert covered by iron bars with a lock on it.
“Try your key,” Salina suggested, and even Khan looked skeptical.
The key worked and
the lock clicked, open making them all wince as it sounded to them as if a blacksmith had hit an anvil with his hammer.
“It can’t be that easy,” Salina said, looking at Khan.
“It is not,” Khan said. “I suspect a trap.”
“Is the trap set?” Hermes asked, looking at Hork and Kaz from atop the king’s tower in the middle of the castle.
“It is, Master,” Hork said, finally gracing Hermes with the title of his order. Whether the Kesh leader was sincere in his respect or ordered to do it by Ke-Tor or Zorcross, Hermes did not know. He only knew it was a nice change in his relationship with the troops.
“You are sure that the rebel patrol is headed here?” Hermes asked, not believing his good fortune that they may actually be able to capture some of them where his master Zorcross had failed.
Hork nodded. “Our scouts picked up the trail not far from the Gregus River and tracked them to a camp not far from here. If they aren’t headed here, then where would they go?”
“A shame that the scouts did not capture them,” Hermes said, stepping over to the crenelated edge of the tower and gazing east at the ridgeline in the far distance.
Hork walked over to him, leaving Kaz to stand alone, along with a pair of guards at the staircase door. “I told you, Master, the scouts are different this time around. There are only two, a tracker and a spotter.”
“How does that work again, and why not just send out a patrol?” Hermes said, turning to face Hork, giving the man a stern look.
Hork ignored the insult, accustomed to such hubris from the magic caste. “We lost too many patrols to the rebels, so now we send out only a spotter and tracker to locate and follow. After we are notified of their presence, we launch a search and destroy patrol large enough to kill them.”
“Has it worked?” Hermes asked, not remembering any Kesh victories really, at least, not in the recent past.
Dead Druid: Claire-Agon Ranger Book 2 (Ranger Series) Page 35