The Whispers of War [Wells End Chronicles Book 2]

by Robert Beers

  “Is it over?” Ellona asked from the doorway.

  The Dwarf nodded as he closed the pack and stood, “Aye, it's over. I'll be taking my leave of you, woman. Let the lad sleep through till the morning after next. The herbs will make sure he does that, but keep it quiet about him anyway.” He turned to look at Jonas and Ellona thought she saw an almost tender expression flit across Zasloff's face, “He's been through a lot, poor tyke, but his heart is strong, he'll do well.”

  Zasloff reached down, grabbed his pack by its strap and threw it across his shoulder. He crossed the room and looked up at Ellona, “That neighbor of yours, she consorted?”

  Ellona felt struck dumb. She had no answer to the Dwarf's question. Zasloff, and Nicoll? As her silence continued, the Dwarf Healer just stood there, looking up at her. Clearing her throat, she tried to think of what Nicoll would say. The thought came to her that her neighbor's first impulse would be to laugh, but that was the last thing she wanted to place in front of Zasloff. The Dwarf was taciturn at the best of times. “Um ... to be honest, healer, Nicoll is consorted. Her man is away at the moment. I believe she would be flattered by your thought, but that is as far as it would go.”

  Zasloff sighed, and nodded curtly at Ellona, “Aye, I thought as much, but it never hurts to ask.” He nodded again and walked past her and out the door to meet Sammel who was waiting with his cart.

  Ellona watched the door close and then turned back to her son. His forehead felt normal now. She backed out and shut the door quietly. Sleeping would be easier now that Jonas was cured. She sat at the kitchen table, considering whether or not to brew a pot of tea. As she sat she couldn't keep the laughter away. Consorted? What would Nicoll say to that?

  * * * *

  When night finally fell, Neely led the companions out of the bottlebrush and along the lip of the chasm, until they reached the place where Charity planned to send the line and grapple across with her bow. “Mind that edge,” he whispered, “It ain't solid.”

  “Gods, it's dark,” Flynn hissed. “Glad you're in front, Neely. I'd be swimmin’ by now.”

  “You'd be fish food,” Neely answered, keeping his voice barely audible. “Now shut yer trap, we's almost there.”

  Lights flickered from the embrasures along Grisham's curtain wall. Brighter glints showed where a helmet or spear passed in front of them. Neely put a hand behind him to bring everyone to a halt, while keeping an eye on the curtain wall. They waited there for several minutes and then moved on.

  “You think they seen us?” Flynn asked as they moved out onto the spur that jutted out over the chasm.

  “Not while the moon is still down, but iffn it comes up while we's crossin'...” Neely left the obvious unsaid.

  Charity strung her bow as Flynn pulled the pack that contained the line and grapple from his back. As Neely played out the line, Flynn used his considerable strength to drive a heavy metal stake deep into the ground using a padded sledge. A test of the stake showed it should hold even the big man's weight during the crossing.

  Flynn screwed up his face, straining to see the other side of the chasm, “Can't see a thing, Miss Charity, how're you gonna know where to put that thing?”

  “You'll just have to trust me, Flynn,” Charity tested her string by pulling it halfway and then easing it back, “I'll know.”

  Neely looked at Flynn as the big man came into his field of vision, “What're you grinnin’ about?”

  “I just talked to Miss Charity. We's in for a time, Neely, we's in for a time.”

  They gathered together around the stake. “Ok, once I send the grapple over, Circumstance will carry the stronger line with him. Flynn will go next, carrying one of the packs, and Neely will follow with the other one. I'll come last.” Charity illustrated her plan with a stick in the dirt.

  Flynn objected, “It'd be safer iffn you was to go over second, Miss Charity. With me strainin’ the line, well, you know...”

  “I'm going over last, Flynn, and that's it, no argument. If it breaks, you'll be able to haul me up. I wouldn't trust our chances of doing that with you.” She looked at each of her companions’ faces and then nodded, “Ok, let's do it.”

  Neely handed Charity the specially prepared grapple; it had a shaft like that of a heavy arrow complete with vanes and a nock, except the shaft was of tempered steel. Just in front of the nock was attached a small iron band with a lanyard ring. To that ring they snapped the line. Charity fit the nock to her bowstring and pulled it back to the anchor point. Just like all the times before, the feeling of knowing her target washed over her. Without hesitation, she moved the bow slightly and released. A soft thud sounded as the grapple sped into the dark, the line twisting along behind it.

  After, to what Neely felt was an interminable wait, the line stopped its passage and began to sag into the chasm. “Grab the line,” Neely hissed.

  Flynn bent and snatched up the line, quickly wrapping a short length of it around the stake he'd pounded into the ground. “Shoulda done this earlier,” he muttered.

  “I go first,” Circumstance stood and moved over to the cliff edge.

  “Not afore we make sure that line's solid,” Flynn knotted the line off at the stake and began to pull in the slack, “We's gotta make sure you get over onto the other side.”

  Neely reached into one of the packs and pulled out a thick bundle of coiled rope, “This's gotta be looped over th’ line iffn th’ boy's to be able to get it across. Th’ thing is flickin’ heavy.” He looked hard at Circumstance, “You let that rope come off'n th’ line, lad, an’ it'll take you with it. You got any magik that'll help here?”

  Circumstance looked uncomfortable, “It doesn't work that way. I can't just do things like that unless it's needed.”

  “But you did against that thing and its Draugs.”

  “Because I needed to,” Circumstance replied. “I tried to do some stuff after that. Nothing happened.” He paused, and said half to himself, “I kind of knew it wouldn't.”

  Neely laid a hand on Circumstance's shoulder, “S'ok, lad. Can't nobody do everything they want to do. Iffn you learn that early enuf, it'll make a better man of you.”

  “Flynn's got the line as taut as possible, it's time,” Charity said, as she pulled an arrow from her quiver. “I'll keep ready if anyone tries to shoot you during the crossing. Maybe an arrow or two through their eye might discourage things.”

  Neely put his mouth next to Flynn's ear, “Iffn anyone else said that I'd be laughin'.”

  Circumstance climbed onto the line without hesitation and shimmied out over the gulf. Neely carefully looped the rope around the line and handed him its end. The boy gave the tracker a smile and began working his way into the gloom. For a long time the only sign of Circumstance's progress was the up and down bobbing of the line. Finally even that came to an end, and the companions were forced to wait, unknowing whether or not the half-elf boy had made it to the other side. Then the line jerked, once, twice, three times.

  “He made it,” Charity nearly sank to her knees in relief.

  “Sure did, Miss Charity,” Flynn said, as he bent to take up the rope. The big man untied the knot from the stake and began retying it in a series of hitches. When he finished, Flynn snapped a forefinger across the rope. The taut line hummed deeply.

  “Now it's my turn,” Neely grunted as he swung his pack onto his back. The tracker knelt down and climbed out onto the rope, “Feels strong, that's good.”

  Flynn gave his old friend a salute, “See ya soon Neely. With those long arms of yourn, you oughta be across in no time.”

  Neely nodded and began his crossing, taking considerably smaller reaches than those Flynn had implied. Just like Circumstance, Neely soon vanished into the darkness, the only indication of his progress being the intermittent vibration of the rope. When the expected signal came of the Tracker's success, Flynn went next, leaving Charity by herself to watch and wait. She tried to keep her thoughts away from the chasm and the black gulf waiting below.
Relaxing her pull on the bowstring, she watched the lights along Grisham's wall. Somewhere behind those flickering lights was Adam, her twin. So much had gone on since they'd last been together that Charity could not bring to mind a clear picture of their last meeting. She shook her head, would her brother even recognize her? Would she recognize him?

  Flynn's signal on the rope drew her away from further dark thoughts. She unstrung her bow and tied down the cover over the arrows. It would do her no good to have them all fall into the sea. Flynn and Neely had taken all the packs over with them, so all she had to do was secure her bow and begin creeping across the rope.

  Charity was unprepared for the acute feeling of distance that stretched beneath her as she inched out over the chasm. Every little breeze washing over her seemed like the beginning of a maelstrom prepared to rip her from the line. She was sure she was gripping the rope far too firmly, but not even Bardoc himself would have been able to convince her to loosen it one iota. Craning her head backwards, Charity strained to see the other side where her companions waited, but all she saw was blackness. Out over the gulf, not even the rope she was clinging to showed in the dim starlight.

  Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to focus on the job at hand. Reach out, grip the rope and pull forward another span, then repeat. Do it again, and repeat. So absolute became Charity's focus that she was almost startled off the rope when two large hands reached down and took her by the shoulders.

  “S'ok, Miss Charity, I got's ya,” Flynn's low voice whispered.

  Charity released one hand and reached out. Flynn's enveloped it, and the big man pulled her up onto the ground.

  “We's all here, Miss Charity, where to now?”

  “I think you'd better ask Neely, he's the only one of us with any connection to Grisham,” Charity readjusted her doublet, and then shifted her bow and quiver to a more comfortable position.

  Neely scratched his cheek, “Well, I remember hearing somethin’ about the sewers emptyin’ out near th’ strait. Iffn we creeps along th’ wall, we oughta come to a point where we can start lookin’ for one.”

  Circumstance pointed in the direction of the sea. “It's that way,” he said, quietly.

  Flynn raised an eyebrow.

  Neely raised both of his.

  Circumstance gave them a level look.

  “I know,” Neely said, “You just know.”

  They crept along the batters that formed the base of Grisham's curtain wall until they reached the barrier that ran from the wall to the sea, cutting off foot access to the mouth of Grisham's harbor. The only other truly nervous moment came when they had to make a series of timed dashes across the remnants of the highway where it met the city gates. Now at the barrier they were forced to make a decision, whether or not to get wet.

  “Too high to reach, even if we jump,” Neely cast an accusing glance at the top of the barrier.

  Flynn looked down at Circumstance, “I don't suppose you kin do somethin’ about this,” he hooked a thumb at the wall.

  “I could,” the boy stated, “but it would make a lot of noise. I don't think that would be good right now.”

  Neely's mouth twitched, “No, probably not.”

  Charity sighed, “What do we do now?”

  Neely grimaced, “We go swimmin'.”

  The water off Grisham was bitterly cold and filled with swirling currents that made the passage around the point fraught with danger. Charity picked up a number of scrapes and bruises from the waves slamming her against the rocks. Flynn took pity on her and had her cling to his back the rest of the way.

  The first sign of a beach came after they rounded a knife-edged promontory jutting out into the strait. Light from the rising moon shone on a cluster of slippery green-tinged rocks dotting the waters just offshore. Circumstance was the first to make it to shore, seemingly unfazed by the experience, Neely followed, then Flynn with Charity still clinging to his back. Small stones made up the beach, mixed with empty shells and bits of driftwood. A sheer cliff rose upwards along the backside of the beach, slanting out towards the strait near the top.

  They staggered to where the cliff wall met the beach stones and fell prostrate on the ground.

  Charity rolled off Flynn's back and coughed out the last of the seawater in her throat. “Ohhh, I'm freezing, that water's like a breath from the pit. I can't feel my toes, or my fingers.”

  “Fingers, nothin', me plunbs're lumps of ice. I'm ruined for life,” Neely gasped, as he wiped the wetness from his eyes.

  “Umm, Miss Charity,” Flynn said quietly, “Is the beach supposed to be movin'?”

  “What?” Charity turned her head in the direction Flynn was pointing.

  Neely levered himself up onto his elbows and squinted against the moonlight shining onto the wet beach, “Probably th’ waves movin’ pebbles.”

  “Those aren't pebbles,” Circumstance said, as he stood and walked forward a couple of paces, shading his eyes against the moon's light, “Those are crabs.”

  “That's a lot of crabs,” Charity said, as she stood too. The movement Flynn had noticed had spread to cover the entire wavefront area of the beach.

  Neely wiped his face and spat, “Bloodcrabs, skrud me iffn it ain't bleedin’ bloodcrabs. Get up, Flynn! We're runnin'. Get up, now!” Without waiting to see if his command had effect, the tracker took off down the beach in the direction of Grisham's harbor. Sand sprayed out from beneath his pounding feet.

  The others hesitated for only the merest fraction of a second and then they too were pelting down the beach, close on Neely's heels. As if it were a single organism, the host of crabs flowed after them, their claw tips ticking against the stones of the beach.

  “Keep it up,” Neely gasped, as he ran, “Iffn they catches us, they'll strip us to bones in seconds, then they'll eat th’ bones.”

  “Where's the bloody sewer?” Flynn looked over his shoulder and then sped up. “They're catchin’ up with us! They're catchin’ up with us!”

  “Yell louder, Flynn, I don't think they quite heard you in Berggren.”

  “Take it easy on ‘im, Charity,” Neely said, “He ain't never been eaten by bloodcrabs before.”

  They continued to run, with the chattering host in hot pursuit. To their dismay, no sewer opening showed in the sheer cliff walls, or even handholds that would allow them to climb clear of danger.

  The beachfront curved around a small headland and then continued straight on to Grisham's port where a rough wall of man-sized boulders divided the beach from the city's docks. Just beyond the headland, the cliffs lowered and the rooftops of some of the buildings above began to show.

  Neely slowed his sprint as he turned slightly to the left.

  “What are you doing?” Charity's screech showed the level of her panic. “Those crabs are almost upon us!”

  Circumstance darted past Charity, and then Neely, scrambling up the slope, sending a spray of gravel out from under his feet, “He saw something. It's up here, hurry!”

  They climbed the slope in Circumstance's wake and joined him at the edge of a small ravine cut into the face of the cliff. Above the ravine yawned the black mouth of a foul-smelling pipe. Tendrils of dark moss dribbled from its lower lip like a matted beard. The opening of the pipe sat a good yard above Neely's reach.

  Charity nearly sobbed in frustration, “Gods, it's too high!”

  “Then we'd best learn to fly, Miss Charity, them things are climbin’ the slope.” Flynn looked over his shoulder. The wave of purple-black carapaces completely covered the beach now, its leading edge lapped at the base of the slope, scrabbling for purchase in the gravel-covered rock. Some of them found it and then those crabs behind them used their brothers as ladders. Then the process repeated.

  Neely swore, “Skrud it! I'm jumpin’ for it.” The tracker squatted, keeping his eyes on the pipe lip and sprang upwards. He misjudged the distance and overshot his goal by several inches. For a few frantic seconds Neely scrabbled for a handhold before finding the en
d of a long since rusted away grate. While holding on with his right hand, he groped around with his left until he found another of the protrusions. Swinging his legs back and forth for leverage, he managed to get one of his arms under his body, and then the other. The pipe was high enough to allow Neely to squat, which he did. Turning around, he lay flat and reached down with both hands.

  “Ok, Flynn, toss me th’ boy.” The tracker had no need to include the words, hurry or quick to his sentence.

  Flynn nodded once and took Circumstance by the waist, lifting the boy to where he could reach Neely's outstretched hands.

  “Gottcha, lad,” Neely grunted, “c'mon up. Ok, Flynn, send up Charity,” He reached back down after helping Circumstance into the pipe.

  Flynn turned at looked at Charity, “Scuz me, Miss Charity,” he blushed, “but I gotta...”

  Charity glanced at the ever-nearing wave of bloodcrabs, “Just do it, Flynn, I won't complain.”

  The big man blushed again and took Charity by the hips, lifting her to where she too, could grip Neely's hands.

  After Charity joined Circumstance behind him, Neely turned to reach down toward Flynn. “C'mon ol’ bud, jump up to me. You kin do it.”

  Flynn bent down and leaped, but his reached failed by half a span.

  “C'mon,” Neely grated, “Jump! Do you wanna be eaten?”

  Flynn tried again, but still he came up short. “It's no use, Neely,” the big man gasped, “I's fagged out, you go on.”

  “I ain't goin’ on, you flickin’ great fool,” Neely growled, as he inched himself further out of the pipe, “an I ain't gonna watch me best bud get chewed up by a buncha sea spiders.” He turned his head and called out to Charity and Circumstance, “Take holda me ankles an’ brace yer feet against summat.” And then he turned back to Flynn. The bloodcrabs were mere inches away from the big man's feet. “Now, jump, you great lump. Jump like yer life depends on it.”

  Flynn jumped, hard enough that it felt like he'd dislocated both knees, but high enough that he and Neely's hands clasped in a durable hand-over-wrist grip. The big man's weight started pulling Neely out of the pipe.