Mark of Fire (The Endarian Prophecy Book 1)

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Mark of Fire (The Endarian Prophecy Book 1) Page 19

by Richard Phillips


  “How in the deep are we going to fight like this?” Ty asked.

  Arn remained silent.

  After making their way back out into the mushroom groves, they moved as close to the slave road as possible while maintaining cover. Arn and Ty began working their way back toward the main tunnel, stopping often to listen. After an hour of cautious movement, they turned into a side tunnel.

  “We need to find a guide,” said Arn.

  He stuck his head around the corner to peer down the hallway. The green moss light failed to reveal any sign of guards on watch. He nodded to Ty, and they stepped out into the main passage. They turned to the right, Arn guiding their steps by pulling on Slaken when he wanted Ty to turn. In this way, they managed to cleanly negotiate the passages.

  The tunnels wound away before them, twisting and turning, leading inexorably down. The sound of gruff voices brought Arn and Ty up short. Arn nodded, and they began to move cautiously forward. As they approached the last bend, the duo stopped to listen.

  Arn leaned forward just enough to look around the corner. About twenty feet from where he and Ty stood, two mulgo and five vorg guards stood watch at a tunnel intersection. As part of an expanding search pattern, the post made sense—block off the intersections to herd their quarry into an inevitable corner. Arn ducked back behind the wall as one of the mulgos on the near side of the passage turned toward him.

  Ty leaned forward to peer around the corner, paused several seconds, and then leaned back to look at Arn, his hand making a slicing motion across his throat. Arn nodded.

  The two men moved at the same time, bounding around the corner and down the hall. Arn threw the dagger he held in his left hand as he ran. It hurtled across the corridor, catching the surprised mulgo on the opposite side in the stomach. The guard lurched backward, falling in a writhing heap on the ground.

  The two mulgos on the near side were first to turn toward them. Ty’s boot caught one of them in the midsection, sending the warrior flying into the wall with bone-shattering force. The second mulgo lunged at Arn, grasping with long, clawed fingers. Air rushed from its nostrils as Arn’s knee crashed into its groin. Arn pulled the second of his four daggers free from its sheath and brought its haft arcing up into the base of the mulgo’s skull.

  The vorg guards scrambled forward, pulling weapons as they came. Ty met the first one with the downstroke of his ax. The force of the blow jerked Arn sideways, causing him to stumble. The nearest vorg dived at his legs, knocking Arn to the floor. Somehow, he managed to maintain his grip on the knife that both he and Ty held. As he hit the ground, Arn cut the vorg’s throat with the dagger in his left hand.

  Arn rolled back to his feet, and Ty lunged again, dragging him along behind. Ty’s ax struck the shield of the nearest vorg, denting it deeply and driving its holder to his knees. Three others charged forward, trampling their comrade in their efforts to get at the barbarian.

  Arn pulled hard on Ty’s arm, whipping his own body around in an arc that swept the legs from under the nearest of the vorgs. He lashed out with his black blade but missed as Ty pulled him to his right. The crescent ax blade bit into hide, and another of the guards flopped onto the floor.

  Arn managed to regain his feet just as one of the downed guards scrambled away, only to be smashed back to the floor as Ty slammed his ax into the running vorg’s back. His follow-through jerked Arn sideways, smashing him into the wall as Ty spun to face the last guard. The vorg moved forward cautiously, whirling a flail in front of him. Arn’s dagger whistled through the air. The battle was over.

  “I can tell you one thing right now,” Arn said, retrieving his dagger. “We’re going to have to work out a better method of fighting together.”

  “But I thought we did pretty well.”

  “That’s because you weren’t getting thrown around like a rag doll,” said Arn.

  “You need more meat on those bones.”

  “Let’s go get my other throwing dagger.”

  On the far side of the passage, Arn pulled one of his blades free and, with Ty, moved to the spot where the unconscious mulgo lay. Working as rapidly as possible with one free hand, Arn cut long strips of cloth from the garments of a fallen vorg, he and Ty cooperating to bind the mulgo’s hands securely behind its back.

  Arn frisked the soldier, finding only a handful of copper coins. He and Ty moved from one body to the next, rapidly searching for anything useful. Except for a fifty-foot coil of rope, the search failed to reveal any other items of value.

  Ty slung his ax across his back, and the two men walked back to the unconscious mulgo. Ty bent down, grabbed the creature by his belt, and tossed the soldier’s two-hundred-pound frame over one shoulder.

  “Where to?” Ty asked.

  “This way.”

  Arn led the way down the passage until they came back to the large mushroom cavern. Glancing around to ensure the way was clear, they turned into the grove. Once they were out of sight of the main road, he signaled for Ty to drop the mulgo.

  “I think you may have hit him a little too hard to be of any use to us,” said Ty. “He may sleep for days.”

  “I’ll bring him around.”

  Arn knelt over the body, pressing his thumb into the nerve junction behind the mulgo’s right ear. A muffled moan escaped through the gag as the guard’s body jerked. Arn changed the pressure slightly, and the mulgo’s eyes popped open, Ty’s boot on his throat.

  Arn leaned down close to the soldier’s ear.

  The mulgo flopped but quickly stilled as Ty increased the pressure on his throat.

  Arn drew one of his throwing daggers, pressing it against the mulgo’s neck behind the ear, barely drawing blood.

  “Are you ready to cooperate?” Arn asked.

  The mulgo nodded his head in affirmation.

  “Good.”

  Ty tied the end of the rope to the mulgo’s bound hands, wrapping it up and around his neck to form a lead line, maintaining a firm grip on the remaining coils with his free hand. Then he pulled the mulgo to his feet.

  “Lie to me, and I’ll know it,” said Arn. “Is there another way out of these caverns that comes out beyond the city walls?”

  The mulgo nodded.

  “You’re going to take us there. No tricks.”

  Again, the mulgo inclined its head.

  Once these preparations were completed, the group began moving, the mulgo in the lead. The soldier led them across the field of mushrooms in the opposite direction of the entrance to the chamber where Arn had seen Carol’s statue. For a half hour, they traversed the massive cavern, careful to stay within the concealment the agaric grove provided. The cultivated fields came to an abrupt end as the walls closed in once more. Stalagmites clustered close together on the floor, and pools of clear water began to appear in small crevices.

  Arn scooped more of the glowing moss from the wall, spreading it on the rag binding their hands as they walked. They paused often to listen, but the cave had taken on an eerie silence, broken only by the drips of water that fertilized the limestone forest through which they traveled. The mulgo turned away from the center of the cavern and led them up along a narrow ledge to their left. This forced them into single file. The ledge continued to narrow until it was just over a foot wide. The floor of the cavern took on a surreal shimmer, the faint green glow causing it to appear to move in the distance as Arn’s eyes had difficulty maintaining focus.

  The group eventually reached a cleft in the cavern’s ceiling. The crack widened into a passage devoid of the stalactites and other wet cave formations found in the caverns below. A musty smell pervaded the place. The only light came from the moss-covered rag wrapped around Slaken, illuminating a five-foot radius.

  The group trudged through the tunnel for hours as it widened and narrowed like the undulations of a caterpillar. At last the passage opened into a great cavern. They were back amid towering stalagmites, the cave walls hidden somewhere beyond the moss torch’s feeble light. The trail led onwar
d over piles of rock and shale, only to descend on the far side. It was impossible to tell whether the trail tended upward or downward. Time lost its meaning.

  Arn felt his body weakening. Illusory movement caught the corner of his vision. He had felt this way often enough in the past. The only solution was to take added precautions against letting his guard down. He moved so he could also place a hand on the mulgo. Any sudden action on the part of the creature would serve to revive him. The tension in the mulgo’s muscles indicated that he did not like this new development.

  Gradually, Arn became aware that the trail was rising. Moving away from the stalagmites, they began working their way steadily upward. The climb steepened, the air thinning as they progressed. Arn’s breathing deepened, and he felt his heart pump more rapidly with the exertion. The effort revived him, sharpening his senses.

  At last they came to a steep pile of shale. The glow of the moss on the rag had begun to fade, cutting their visibility in half, but Arn noticed a different texture to the stone. Some of the corners were more rounded, giving a weathered impression. Just then a swirl of fresh air hit him in the face, cool with a hint of pine. Glancing up, he found he could see stars overhead.

  “We’re out!” Ty breathed. “Damned if I’ve ever seen anything so beautiful.”

  Arn shoved Slaken’s blade into the mulgo’s skull just behind the ear. He stiffened, then dropped to the ground. After retrieving knife and rope, the two men began climbing the last section of shale that led outside. They emerged into a clearing on the side of a mountain with no illumination from the moon. The black outline of pine trees blotted the stars on the horizon. Arn removed the moss-covered rag from the knife that they both gripped and buried it beneath a rock. That done, the two men strode deeper into the woods and away from the endless cavern.

  21

  Borderland Range—Northeast of Lagoth

  YOR 413, Late Summer

  Arn took the night’s first guard shift. He did not know exactly how late it was, but he guessed the time to be around midnight. They both needed sleep, but Ty was worse off, having lost a fair amount of blood. Taking one of the strips of rope, he bound Ty’s left hand and his right hand to Slaken. It would not do to nod off and lose a grip on the blade while still in the area of the spell’s influence. By the time Arn finished the task, Ty was fast asleep, his breathing rhythmic and deep.

  The thicket Arn had selected for their camp was dense and full of thorns, but it provided good security. No wandering vorg or mulgo would likely venture close to where he and Ty had stopped. From within the interwoven, shroudlike bushes, Arn could not see the sky at all.

  In the distance a wolf howled, a lonely wail that lingered in the night. The sounds of crickets chirping grew in volume as the insects became accustomed to the proximity of the two new occupants of their thicket.

  For half the night, Arn sat and listened, losing himself in the sensations of the wild. No thought, just feeling. At last he reached over and shook Ty. The barbarian sat up, rubbing his face with his free hand.

  “You ready for your turn on watch?” Arn asked.

  “As ready as I’m going to be. Gods, what I’d give for just a couple of days of eating and sleeping and nothing else.”

  Sleep claimed Arn as his head touched the ground. He awoke to find the sun coming up and his knife-bound hand asleep. Sitting up, he began massaging his palm, spreading a tingling sensation out to his fingers. He stretched and yawned.

  “Good morning,” said Ty. “I was just about to wake you up. Let’s see if John and Kim are still where we left them. We’re going to have to hustle, or they’ll go down to the city to look for us.”

  “Right.”

  Ty led the way out of the thicket, pausing at the edge. Arn came up beside him. They were standing at the edge of a clearing surrounded by stately pines. The mountains towered up before them, and a small ravine led down to their right. The scene looked familiar.

  As they crested the next rise, Ty’s palomino spotted them first, trotting up to the Kanjari and letting the barbarian scratch behind its ears with his free hand. The men soon tracked down Ax, who was merrily munching on the abundant grass in the center of a nearby meadow. With Arn riding double behind Ty and Ax following along without requiring to be led, they began working their way up toward the crest of the ridge. The trek through the cavern had brought them into the mountains to the east of the city.

  “We ought to reach the camp within the hour,” said Ty.

  “That spell will be working on John and Kim’s minds. They won’t leave voluntarily.”

  “We’ll just grab and hogtie them until we get out of its range,” said Ty.

  “The question is how to grab them both at the same time, stuck together like we are.”

  “Easy,” said Ty. “Follow my lead.”

  Their destination was even closer than they thought. At the top of the next ridge, Arn spotted the cliff that marked the spot above the camp. Sliding down from the horse’s back, Ty leaned a good portion of his weight on Arn’s right shoulder.

  “Don’t get carried away,” said Arn. “I’m not one of your wild horses.”

  “Just trying to make this look realistic.”

  Suddenly two forms appeared, running up the hill toward them. John and the Endarian princess reached them at the same time, concern etched on their faces.

  “What in the deep happened to you two?” John asked. “I’ve seen better looking vorgs.”

  “Here, help me with Ty,” Arn gasped. “The damned barbarian weighs a ton. Kim, I could use a little hand myself, if you don’t mind.”

  John grabbed Ty by the other arm as Kim moved in to help support Arn.

  “Now!” Arn said as he grabbed Kim with his left arm.

  “What in the deep?” John yelled as Ty lifted him clear of the ground.

  Arn struggled to control Kim’s writhing form, taken aback by how strong she was. She lashed out with her feet, missing Arn, but catching Ty on the shin. The whole group went down in a pile.

  Arn managed to get one of Kim’s arms behind her back, ignoring the pain in his arm where she effortlessly tore off a hunk of skin. Ty yelled an obscenity as he forced John’s face into the dirt while locking his friend down with his legs. Arn wrapped his own legs around Kim’s torso, pinning her arms to her side. Reaching in his pocket, he withdrew the short pieces of rope and after several failed attempts, managed to tie her hands together. He then reached over and helped Ty secure John’s hands behind his back.

  “What in the deep is wrong with you two?” John said. “Have you gone crazy?”

  “We’ll explain it to you as we travel,” said Ty. “Just believe me when I say that this was necessary for now.”

  “I’m going to kill you both. Look. You’ve made Kim cry.”

  Arn looked down at the woman. Tears of rage and disbelief rolled down her face. For the first time in weeks, he saw fear in her eyes. Arn’s heart fell, seeing Kim’s look of betrayal over this assault by two men she regarded as friends. Weighed down by remorse, he leaned over and finished securing the two captives by tying their feet, allowing them to take short steps without being able to run away.

  Together he and Ty pulled them to their feet, maintaining a grasp on the ropes. In this manner, they pushed and tugged John and Kim down to the camp, where they sat them down. John and Kim stared up at the duo with angry faces.

  “I’m waiting,” said John.

  For the next half hour, Arn talked, omitting only the fact that he knew the face of the idol in the depths of Lagoth. As the tale reached its conclusion, Arn was relieved to see a smile come back to Kim’s face.

  “But why did you need to tackle us? Why didn’t you just tell us the story?” asked John.

  “Because this form of sorcery is subtle. According to the Endarian I met beneath Lagoth, it’s triggered when an enemy decides to leave. We couldn’t be sure that the spell wouldn’t cause you to run away from us once we started telling you about our discovery.�
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  “We’re not trying to run away now, so you can let us loose.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Arn. “We can’t take that chance. Not until we’re sure that we’re out of the spell’s range. Most likely that will be after we cross to the east side of the mountains.”

  “You aren’t serious.”

  “John, do I look like I’m not serious?”

  For the next hour, as Ty and Arn packed and tied John and Kim to their mounts, John continued to argue and complain. The necessity of both Arn and Ty maintaining a grip on Slaken’s haft further complicated the situation. Kim remained quiet, appearing strained yet focused.

  Arn rode double behind Ty on the palomino, keeping a grip on the lead rope that pulled the train of horses. As they climbed into the mountains, John’s arguments grew louder and more vicious, finally reaching the point where an exasperated Arn and Ty gagged him. Beads of sweat stood out on Kim’s brow, her eyes set in a look of concentration, but she remained silent of her own accord.

  As the day wore on and the group moved up into the higher mountains, John’s struggles grew more desperate. He strained against his ropes, kicking his mount and forcing the line of horses into a gallop along the steep slope. Only the meticulous horsemanship of Ty prevented the tiny herd from stampeding over a cliff as he reached out and snared John’s horse by the bridle, pulling it to a sliding halt.

  Arn glanced back at John and Kim. John’s saddle had twisted so that he hung off his horse at a crazy angle. His eyes were wild, and he continued to struggle, although some of his earlier vigor had subsided. Kim breathed heavily, still quiet.

  “I’m going to make sure that lunatic can’t move to shoo a fly!” Ty said.

  They slipped off the stallion’s back and soon had John trussed up and slung like a sack of feed across the saddle. As Ty had promised, movement was out of the question.

  Arn turned to Kim. “Are you all right?”

  The princess nodded her head. He studied her face closely. Her eyes had a faraway look and lines of concentration had etched themselves into her forehead. Although she was clearly struggling against the effects of the spell, Arn was impressed with the continuous strength of will she displayed.

 

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