Fortunately, one of the timbers smashed from the fall had created a Sam-sized opening, which was probably the way that whatever was in the cage got out. In the minus column was the fact that said opening was barely Sam-size, and it faced down: He would have to remove all his gear and crawl under the cage to reach it. He gave the cage a tentative shake. It shifted a little.
“Should be safe,” he muttered, taking a deep breath and wiggling under it to inspect the interior. “Breaking into a prison. If I’m a thief, I’m a damn foolish one.”
The cage was empty, save for the bones in the far corner and bloodstains in four places. A joint where the timbers and iron bands came together at the uppermost corner had a tuft of hair caught in it. He leapt to grab it, and on the third try snatched a few strands. It was brownish-orange: somehow familiar.
“Hey Lee, you remember the farmhouse incident?”
“You call that an incident? That was a heroic rescue.”
“Right. Those moerko. They had brown-orange fur, didn’t they?”
“Ya found fur?” said Gnebnik. “Good. Bring it up. Shin can mor’n likely figure out what beastie it belongs to.”
The cage shifted beneath Sam’s feet. He tried to reassure himself.
It’s been stuck here for a week. Maybe longer. No reason for it to fall now. I’m not that heavy.
He tucked the fur into a pocket and hopped to the other side. One of the tree branches groaned. Smaller branches snapped. The cage slid several feet.
“Guys, I might have a problem.”
“Get out of there Sam,” yelled Lee. “Stop talking and move.”
“The opening I climbed through is now blocked. And the cage feels a lot tippier.”
“No other way out?” said Shin.
“The lock. I might be able to pick it if I had tools.”
“I’ll be right down,” said Lee.
“Hold up,” said Gnebnik. “You’re the heaviest of the three of us. Let Shin go.”
“No. You said it yourself, we need him up here. His eyes and ears are what keep us safe. I can free climb back up if I have to. I’m going.”
Lee ran back to the cart, fished around in a side compartment for the cart’s emergency repair kit—a canvas roll of tools and parts the size of his forearm—and dashed back.
Shin put a hand on his shoulder. “I really should be able to make it down and back quickly enough that—”
“If that were true, you wouldn’t have let Sam go the first time,” said Lee. “I’m going.”
Gnebnik grumbled, but wrapped the other end of the rope around his waist. “Greenhorns.”
Lee unbuckled his sword belt, shoved it and the tool roll into his knapsack, wrapped the rope around his waist and tied it off. “I’m going to climb, not rappel, so just feed me some slack.”
Lee reached the ledge without slipping, untied himself, and scrutinized the cage.
“Got the tools. Should I tie the rope to the cage? Maybe that’ll stabilize it.”
“It hasn’t moved since that last slide,” said Sam. “Plus there’s nothing solid up top to secure it to. The cage is too heavy for the three of you.”
Lee handed the tool roll to Sam. “How much further down from here to the river?”
“Not too much further. Don’t think the fall would kill me, but with my luck the cage would land with the opening facing down.”
Lee glared at the left side branch holding the cage. “Partially torn. Looks like that branch is dying.”
A breeze hit the upper foliage, eliciting a pair of deep groans from the damaged branch.
Sam unrolled the tools. “Uuugh. Not much to work with. Looks like bailing wire. Too thin for a lock this size. Maybe if I double it up.”
“It looks like there’s no immediate—”
“We gotta go,” called Gnebnik. “Shin caught scent of something, we gotta get back to the cart.”
“What?” barked Sam. “You can’t leave us down here! It’s almost nightfall.”
“Ya should be safe down there,” yelled Gnebnik. “At least, nothing big should be able to get ta ya. We’ll be back no later than tomorrow morning.”
Sam shot a lone panicked glance at the top of the cliff and went back to work on the lock.
“Good luck. Remember to build a fire,” said Shin.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” said Lee.
“One problem at a time,” said Sam.
The cage groaned, shifting another fraction of an inch.
“One is enough.”
Lee wrapped his arms through the cage to try to stabilize it, his heels slipping in loose dirt and stone. “Sam. Hurry it up.”
“I’m working on it.”
A branch creaked.
“Saaaaam!”
“I thought it was a three lever, but it’s actually a five lever design.”
“Sam-u-el!”
“Not helping. And my name’s not Samuel, damnit!”
“I’m slipping!”
“Got it.” The lock clattered to the stony ground, the hatch creaked open, and Sam lunged through the door. A branch groaned, cracked, and tore. A shower of loose stone cascaded over the edge, plunging into the water below. The cage tipped, sliding several more feet.
And stopped.
Lee glanced at Sam, sprawled on the ground, then at the cage, then back at Sam.
“I thought it would tumble into the river.”
“Sorry to disappoint you,” said Sam. “Shall I climb back inside so we can try again?”
“I suppose this is OK.”
Lee gave the cage a derisive kick. It refused to budge.
Sam gazed up at the cliff. “We could climb it, but I don’t like the idea of reaching the top to come face-to-face with some vicious beast at sunset. I can’t believe they just left us here.”
“Me neither.” Lee glanced around the ledge. Most of it was barely wide enough to stand on, though the patch they were on was just over four paces wide. “We seem to have plenty of wood. Let’s get a fire going.”
“Right.”
Sam grabbed a handful of dead branches and piled them in the corner while Lee arranged some of the loose stones into a small fire ring and began sorting the wood by size.
“My uncle once showed me his old tinderbox,” Lee said, arranging the smaller twigs into a pyramid with some dried moss. “You know, the way they made fires before matches were invented.”
“Uh-huh. Pity we can’t get a drink of water. River’s just twenty or thirty feet below us. Don’t suppose you brought a bucket and rope?”
“Nope. Just my canteen.” He took an amber stone the size of a peanut from a leather pouch and tapped it against one of the stones of the fire ring, producing a shower of sparks.
“Yeah. Mine’s only about a quarter full.” Sam set one of the larger branches against a rock and slammed a heel into it to break it into smaller pieces. “Still. Enough for tonight. And tomorrow… what do we do if they don’t come back for us?”
“We walk back to Hazelhearth. But they’ll be back. I mean, they wouldn’t leave us here, would they?”
“Unless something killed them.”
“Yeah.” The smoldering patch of dried moss burst into flames. “There! I still prefer matches, but these spark stones aren’t bad.”
“So, we’ve got fire. You’re our campcraft expert, what next?”
Lee gazed skyward. The undersides of billowy clouds were painted orange and magenta in the twilight sky. He chuckled and replied. “Gnebnik would call this a good news/bad news situation.”
Sam returned a silent glare.
“We’d normally have to spend a lot of time preparing dinner. But since the cooking gear and all our rations are in the cart, that’s one problem we don’t have to worry about.”
“Right.”
“The cliff face will make a decent heat reflector, and any nocturnal predators would have to be small and agile enough to climb up from the river, or down from the plateau above. Hmm. You know, Gnebnik was right. This
isn’t that bad a situation.”
Sam shuddered. “Do you think there are any of those gastropoids around?”
“Dunno. At least we know how to fight ‘em this time.”
Lee placed one of the larger logs on the fire and sat, leaning his back against the cliff. “Pity we don’t have our bedrolls. But the fire should keep us warm enough.”
Sam shoved his knapsack against the cliff and sat as well.
The two stared at the fire in silence as the last streaks of magenta faded, a sea of stars sparkling between the scattered clouds.
“So what is it?” said Lee.
“What’s what?”
“Your name. I thought Sam was short for Samuel.”
“It’s Samantha.”
“Huh.” Lee cocked his head. “I always thought that was a lady’s name.”
“It is.”
Lee stared Sam in the eyes a moment long. “So that means…”
“Yes.”
“Then this whole time… you’ve been impersonating… I mean you…”
“What?”
“You lied to everyone.”
“I did not.” Sam shot him a severe glare. “I didn’t have to. Dress a certain way, do your hair a certain way, demonstrate certain types of skills, and people just assume.”
“Last year you had a mustache!”
Sam smirked. “Yeah, OK, you got me there. But when I stopped wearing it, people commented how girlish I suddenly looked. Yet they knew I had to be a man. It was perfect!”
Lee’s head drooped as he stared into the fire. “Why didn’t you say anything when we got here? I thought… I thought we were friends.”
“We are friends. I mean, we are from my end at least.” Sam sighed deeply. “Never found the right time to say anything about it. Not the sort of thing you bring up in casual conversation.”
“Yeah. I guess so.”
“Remember when we first got here? Remember what you said?”
“Hey! That guy’s name really did sound like frog dick.”
Sam rolled her eyes. “The next day. When the moerko attacked.”
“Not really. What did I say?”
“You wanted to rescue the damsel in distress.”
“Is that what this is about? Is that how you think I’d see you?”
“Those princesses I told you about.” Sam spat out the word like a mouthful of apple with a particularly revolting worm in it. “That’s what they grow up into. Corset-wearing, parasol-carrying, prim and proper ladies who faint at the drop of a hat.”
Lee put a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Sam, you’ll never be a damsel in distress.”
“The thing is Lee, we’re… buddies. And I like that. I was afraid you’d… start some sort of hare-brained chivalrous shenanigans.”
“I’ll do my best on the chivalrous thing. The other two, I can’t promise.”
Sam grinned. “Fair enough. There’s been so much to think about. This world, it’s not just the giant mythic creatures, the gnomes, nekos and elves that make it different. Women can do anything they want here. If they have the skills for it. Though I’m starting to doubt I have any.”
“You’re doing fine. Better than fine. The only thing I have going for me is strength. And on Arvia the world’s strongest man might as well be the world’s strongest mouse.”
“What about your irrepressible optimism. That has to count for something.”
“Yeah.” Lee pulled the cork from his canteen and took a long sip of water. “I’m surprised you want to go back at all. You don’t seem that close to your family, and back home, women aren’t even allowed to vote.”
“On Earth I knew what I didn’t want, and that was enough. Rules, expectations, customs. I could expend all my energy just fighting against them. I didn’t have to spare a thought to what I really wanted.” Sam poked at the largest log on the campfire, sending a puff of orange sparks skyward. “I’m honestly jealous of you, Lee. Your mind is clear. You know what you want and you go for it with everything you have.”
“Right now what I want is to survive the night.”
“There’s something to be said for simple goals.”
“So… is it a problem, us sharing a room? I mean, if there’s something you need me to do,” said Lee. “Or not do.”
“Bathe more frequently?”
“I’ll take it into consideration.”
The two nodded, exchanging the first known use of the gesture ‘fist bump’ on the world of Arvia.
Editor’s Note
Editor: What? Sam was a woman all along?
DH: Yup.
Editor: You never told me that!
DH: I never said she wasn’t.
Editor: Uuugh, Now I suppose I’m going to have to change all the personal pronouns.
DH: We wouldn’t want to deceive our readers.
Editor: But that’s over half a book to rewrite!
DH: Sucks to be you.
Editor: Let’s finish the rest of the book, then I’ll go back and do it, it’ll be more efficient that way.
DH: Just don’t forget about it, OK?
Chapter 15
Lee glanced at the fire, and then up to the top of the cliff. It was barely dawn, but bird calls had been echoing throughout the canyon for the last quarter of an hour.
“Ya two still alive?” boomed a voice. Gnebnik’s voice.
“Yeah. We’re doing just great. Thanks,” said Lee.
“And I can’t wait to hear why you decided to abandon us last night,” said Sam.
Shin tossed the end of a rope down to them. “Just use it as a safety line. Gnebnik and I can hold you if you fall, but we’d have a difficult time pulling you all the way up. Especially Lee.”
Sam went first, ascending the slope in under a quarter of an hour.
“It is good to see you made it through the night unscathed,” said Shin.
“We had a run-in with some giant centipedes, but they seemed wary of the campfire,” said Sam. “We managed to drive them off with burning sticks. Now are you going to tell us why you abandoned us?”
“The fur. First the fur,” said Shin.
Sam handed him the tuft of orange-brown fur. “And?”
Shin scrutinized the fur as he rubbed it between his fingers, finally taking a long whiff. “You were correct. It is moerko fur.”
“Good. Because I was not planning on going back into that cage to fetch a bone for you.”
Sam turned to Gnebnik. “And the reason you left us?”
“Shin caught scent of a sabertooth. Would have torn the donkey to shreds. We had to move to stay downwind of it, then built a fire to mask the scent.”
“The two of us are less important than the donkey?” snapped Sam.
“Speaking of the two of you, shall we lower the line to Lee, or do you intend to leave him there?”
“Yes. Right.”
Sam undid the rope from her waist and tossed the end to Lee.
“And you are certainly not less important than the donkey,” said Shin.
“But we couldn’t have completed the mission without the donkey,” said Gnebnik.
“And you were in a reasonably safe spot for the evening.”
“Your definition of safe is… peculiar,” said Sam.
Shin peered over the edge to watch Lee’s progress. He turned to Sam. “How so? Large predators could not reach you on that ledge.”
“Which wasn’t flat. We could have fallen to our deaths. And there were giant centipedes. There could have even been gastropoids!”
Shin cocked his head. “A campfire is reasonably effective against both. And you simply needed to avoid getting too close to the edge. Which you did.”
Lee’s head popped over the edge, he climbed over it, hopped to his feet, and untied the safety line. “Good to be back on the top of the bluff.”
“It will be even better to be back in Hazelhearth,” said Sam.
“Aye,” said Gnebnik. “Shin, you need ta look at anything else?”
<
br /> Shin glanced around the campsite. “No. They camped here three nights. We know which way they came from and which way they went. Lying in wait next to a busy road is a common ogre tactic, but it appears this road was not busy enough to suit them.”
“Good,” said Gnebnik. “Let’s get back on the road.”
Shin nodded and mounted his trusty reptilian steed, Gnebnik again taking the reins of the donkey cart.
“Say, um, did you two know Sam was a woman?”
“Lee!” said Sam.
“No,” said Shin. “Female nekos always wear a pink ribbon on their tail to signify…”
Lee cocked his head at the neko.
Shin cracked a little smile. “Of course I knew. I could tell by scent.”
“So if we’ve now dug enough into my personal life, can we get back to what’s going on with this camp?” said Sam.
“Sorry,” said Lee. “I shouldn’t have…”
Gnebnik tapped the donkey with his staff and the cart surged forward.
“It was most likely an ogre prisoner cage. Filled with moerko as food. But the moerko were intelligent enough to escape. Prolly managed to tip the cage over the cliff at night when the ogres weren’t paying close attention. They were half-starved, in an unfamiliar environment, eventually stumbled upon the farm.”
“Hmm. Moerko don’t seem like a great choice for meat,” said Lee. “I mean, they climb. They’d need a full cage with a roof. Pigs or goats could be kept in a simple pen.”
As they turned onto the main road, Gnebnik tapped the donkey again and they broke into a brisk trot to keep up with Shin, already a hundred paces ahead.
“They prolly already had the cage,” said Gnebnik. “Use ’em to store prisoners.”
“Human prisoners?” said Sam.
“Human, elf, neko, anyone they capture in battle. Sometimes they trade, sometimes offer them to higher-ranking ogres as tribute.”
“And let me guess,” said Sam. “Most of the time captives are eaten.”
“Ogres value interesting and exotic meat,” said Gnebnik. “Having them in your army strikes terror into your foes.”
“Until now,” said Lee.
“Aye,” said Gnebnik.
◊ ◊ ◊
Returning to Hazelhearth, the party spotted no further signs of the band of ogres. In fact, except for the glowing red eyes of an unidentified amphibian predator at dusk the third night, there were no further creature encounters. After the meager fare both on the road, and in Irondale, accommodations, food, and ale at the Dancing Dryad seemed positively decadent. They delivered the dragonfly larvae and accessories, along with the quest papers to Lady Isylnoir, who complained of the party’s tardiness, the condition of the goods, and the lack of central heating in Hazelhearth’s city hall.
Hazelhearth Hires Heroes Page 13