by Henry Vogel
Hoskins—Charlie to his friends—was close to my own age. A tall, strong man filled with good humor and dedication to his duty. In other circumstances, we could have been friends, perhaps more than friends. Instead, a vast gulf yawned between his station and mine. The gulf was not insurmountable, but a man like Charlie Hoskins could only bridge it with deeds of valor so great as to be beyond the abilities of most men.
Was it possible Hoskins could be the hero I’d searched for all these years? God only knew, we needed that hero right now. I could but hope that Hoskins, or one of my other guards, proved to be him.
With Hoskins’ aid, I made it to the rocks. Hoskins and Rob saw me settled into shade cast by the rocks. Rob organized the camp with typical efficiency before returning to me.
“How are you, Little One?”
“Our situation must be truly desperate. You haven’t called me Little One since I turned twelve.”
A rueful smile spread across Rob’s face. “As I recall, you nearly bit my head off for using a little girl’s nickname.”
I laughed without much humor. “I really was a brat, wasn’t I?”
I expected Rob to offer a playful reply, make some attempt to cheer me up.
“No, Callan, you were never a brat. You have been difficult, willful, curious, and kind. But never a brat.” Rob turned a serious face my way. “I hope you will forgive an old man’s impertinence, but I am proud of the young woman you’ve become. You are a credit to your parents and your country.”
“We aren’t getting out of this one, are we, Rob?”
“And now I’m reminded that I left intelligent and observant off of my list of your qualities.” Rob looked off into the distance. “We still live, Your Highness, and that is something.”
“Call me Callan, Rob. Here at the end, I want no titles between us.”
“I shall call you Callan only until such time as you are safe. And safe you may yet be. After all…”
Rob trailed off, leaving me to complete his oft–used saying.
“Where there is life, there is hope.”
Rob turned his gaze back to me and this time his eyes held a true twinkle. “Besides, Callan, your hero could still arrive in time to save the day.”
“Do you think he’s just going to pop up out of the sand, Rob?”
“Or he could drop out of the sky. Honestly, I care not–”
“Trogs! To arms! Trogs are upon us!”
Blue–skinned terrors, creatures I’d seen only in illustrations, charged around the rocks not fifty yards from us and rushed toward our little camp. I counted ten and they still came. Then twenty. I stopped at thirty.
“Stay against the rocks, Callan. We will form a cordon and keep you safe for as long as possible. Take up a sword if you can and if you must.”
Drawing his sword, Rob turned away.
“Rob?”
He looked over his shoulder.
“Thank you. For everything.”
Rob sketched a salute and began organizing our defenses.
“I love you as I love my father.”
Between the shouts and a strange, ear–shattering boom in the distance, he didn’t hear me. He knew my feelings for him, but I wanted him to hear me say it.
Then the trogs were upon us and I could but watch as my guards, my brave defenders, fell one after the other before the trogs’ superior numbers. Far too soon, only Rob and Hoskins still stood. I hefted a sword and waited to take my place in the fight. Seconds later, a spear plunged into Hoskins chest. With his dying breath, my youngest guard struck down the trog before him.
And so I took Hoskins place next to Rob, expecting nothing but a quick and painful death.
A loud, sharp crack sounded from above us and a small crater blew out in the ground beside the trogs. All eyes, trog and human alike, turned to see the cause. A man stood atop the rocks, some device clutched in one hand.
The man shouted in a language strange to me. The trogs shouted in return and most of them charged the man.
“This may be our chance to insure your survival, Callan. Be prepared to flee on my command.”
Then the man on the rocks moved, and he was like nothing I had ever seen before. In a second he twisted, turned, dodged, and danced among the trogs. And where he went, death followed. He ripped through our enemies like a scythe through wheat.
Rob tore his gaze from the amazing spectacle, launching an attack against the closest trogs. Three minutes later, this amazing man rammed a spear through the last of the trogs and we were saved.
He met my eyes and a broad smile spread across what I now realized was a quite handsome face.
I smiled in return. “You have saved us. How can I thank you?”
He spoke in the strange language again and then collapsed.
Rob and I rushed to his side. We found no wounds and the man still lived.
“Considering how he moved and fought, I suspect the man is simply exhausted, Your Highness.”
I barely heard Rob as I drank in the sight of the man.
“He came, Rob.”
“Hm? I’m sorry, what did you say, Your Highness?”
“He came. When we least expected him and when we most needed him. I’d stopped believing in him. I’d stopped looking for him. And yet he still came, Rob. At long last, my hero is here.”
Chapter 44
Callan
I’d spent no more than a minute on this roof, but that minute was tied to the deepest of emotions. Fear, anger, and gut–wrenching loss rose unbidden when my feet touched the roof for a second time. Fear that those wretched tunnels would take another precious life from me. Anger at King Rat for all he had done to me, past and present. The gut–wrenching loss I still felt for Rob.
I stared off into the night, suppressing my emotions. When this night was over, I would give rein to them. But until David and I were free of this city, such emotions were distractions I could not afford.
Milo touched my shoulder. “We’re ready, Your Highness.”
“Thank you, Milo.” I turned to face the Great One. “You know the plan. You know the stakes. Do you have any questions?”
“No.”
“Then follow me.”
I led the trogs down the stairs attached to the outside of the building, to the alley below. Once we were on the ground, Milo took the lead.
“You’re sure this is the way?” I asked.
“Yes, Your Highness. After Martin showed me how to get into the tunnels, I memorized the alleys all around the entrance,” he said. “If we have to run I won’t lead us into any dead ends.”
“That was clever thinking on your part. We’ll make a guard out of you, yet.”
“Nah, I’m going to be a spy. Captain Hunter says my um...skill set...is better suited for that sort of thing.”
Did he, now? I edited my mental note of appreciation to Captain Hunter for training Milo. It’s not that Hunter’s assessment was wrong—Milo had the makings of an excellent spy—but I had bigger plans for my young friend. Those plans included a stability sorely lacking in his life thus far.
Moments later, Milo stopped at an opening in the ground. “This is it!”
“Good job, Milo.” I turned to the Great One. “Send your warriors below. I’ll be right behind you.” I turned back to Milo. “You stay here and wait for us.”
“Oh no you don’t. I’m coming with you, Callan!”
“Absolutely not! I promised Kim I’d keep you safe. She would kill me if something happened to you.”
“Death is nothing compared to what I’d face from David if something happened to you.”
“You know David would never hurt you, Milo.”
“I know he wouldn’t hurt me. But he would be disappointed in me if you got hurt. He’d try to hide it, but things would never be the same between us. Besides, I grew up on the streets.” Knives appeared in Milo’s hands and then vanished again. “I can take care of myself.”
“You’re just going to sneak in behind us if I o
rder you to stay here, aren’t you?
“Of course. If it makes you feel any better, I would feel guilty over ignoring a direct order.”
“Really?”
“No.”
“That’s what I thought. Okay, you can come, but stay close to me.”
Milo smirked, “Oh boy, I get to guard the royal body!”
A genuine smile spread across my face. I turned and climbed down into King Rat’s tunnels. The first thing I heard was the unmistakable sound of weapons echoing through the tunnels!
Chapter 45
David
I took a position at the door into the tunnels down which we heard running feet. We had two minutes, give or take, before the tunnel before us filled with tunnel rats.
“Keep an eye on the hole, Martin. I don’t think anyone will try to climb up the cage bars like I did, but you never know. Even a one–handed man can guard that spot.”
Martin joined me at the door. “Stand aside, Wonder Boy. I’ve got first dibs on door duty.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Martin! You’ve lost a lot of blood and only have one good hand. By what tortured logic are you the right man to defend the door?”
Martin’s lips twitched up in a tight smile. “By the logic of expendability. You, David, have too much to lose to even be considered for this job.”
I waved the comment off. “I risk my life. You risk your life. The difference is both of my hands are intact and all of my blood is in my veins.”
“You also have a beautiful wife who loves you. After everything you’ve each been through—and, yes, I realize I’m responsible for some of those things—I think the two of you deserve a long and wonderful life together. Besides, you’ve got the royal succession to think about, lad. I have no doubt you find that an onerous duty, but I’m equally confident you and Callan spend most nights wrestling with this task. Nothing less than the future of the realm depends on you, my boy!”
“Is there anyone in the kingdom who isn’t discussing my private life with Callan?”
“It’s distinctly possible, David. I feel sure there is a convent or monastery somewhere in Mordan where they restrict themselves to more heavenly matters. Everyone else in the kingdom is speculating whether your first child will be a beautiful little princess or a brave little prince.” Martin grinned at me. “I’m hoping for one of each.”
I decided it was past time to change the subject. “Okay, I have something to live for. Everyone does—even you!”
“Me? I’m just a former raider whose passing would hardly be noticed. Besides, you’ve done a lot of Boosting today. Can’t have you risking Boost burnout, can we? Safety first, youngster!”
“Would you deprive my unborn children of the chance to meet their Uncle Martin?”
Martin raised a questioning eyebrow. “Uncle?”
“An honorary title, but one bestowed with sincerity.”
“Uncle, huh? You make a compelling argument, young man. All right, what’s your plan?”
“Thus far, surprise has worked wonders against these tunnel rats. Are you up for a bit more of that, old man?”
“I do believe I could manage that. What do you have in mind?”
“Since you insist on joining the fight, why wait for them to come to us? Let’s take the fight to them. If we hit them hard and fast, we might be able to break through their lines and escape into the tunnels.”
“It beats hanging around in doorways. Lead on, David!”
We charged down the tunnel toward the approaching guards!
Chapter 46
David
Ahead of us, the tunnel curved curved gently to the right. Echoes made it impossible to gauge how close our enemy was to us using sound, alone. Then I realized flickering light from their torches reflected off the outside wall of the bend in the tunnel. King Rat’s men were almost upon us. Dropping our torch, I motioned Martin against the inside wall. Martin ground the torch out under his heel.
In a stage whisper, Martin said, “When the fight is joined, remember to yell ‘For Callan and country!'“
There must have been just enough reflected light for him to see my raised eyebrow. “I thought you were raised on adventure vids, David. Don’t you know that alliterative declarations of love and loyalty increase fighting prowess?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. Through his own pain and exhaustion, Martin still worked to put me at ease. Then, two dozen or more of King Rat’s men rounded the bend, charging headlong toward us. As planned, they had no idea we were there until Martin and I stepped into the small pool of torchlight.
I grinned and cried, “For Callan and country!”
Beside me, Martin yelled, “For Martin and Mordan!”
So much for my hopes of learning the name of some hitherto unknown lady love.
Boost!
The tunnel rats at the front saw us first. Expressions of alarm crossed their faces and they tried to stop their charge. The dozens behind them didn’t see us and shoved the leaders toward us. One impaled himself on Martin’s blade. Martin rammed the blade home and it went straight through the leader and into the chest of the man pushing him from behind. The two men shrieked in agony and terror. Finally aware something was amiss at the front, the men behind ground to a halt.
I spun past the two shrieking men and decapitated the third man. His head ricocheted off the wall and into the packed men behind. Cries of horror and disgust rose from them and several back–pedaled from the bouncing head. I grabbed the shirt of the headless man and, using the body as a shield and a psychological weapon, pressed it into the men before me. Hot blood spurted in their faces and they recoiled.
A quick slash to a sword arm and a sword clattered to the floor. A thrust to the leg and a man collapsed against his fellows, unable to stand. Then Martin was back at my side and our blades flashed too fast for King Rat’s men to parry.
Our attack was too fast, too unexpected, and we pressed our advantage. The front rank wavered, putting up token resistance. The men at the back, only able to hear the cries from the front, edged away. We had them on the ropes, ready to flee before our onslaught!
Then a man in the middle, close enough to see us but too far away to fight us, regained his senses.
“There’s only two of them and one is already wounded. Press forward and grind them under our feet!”
Fear deepened on the faces of the men crossing swords with us, but the rest of their number took the instructions to heart. The mass of tunnel rats advanced. They even adopted one of my tactics, holding the bodies of their slain fellows as shields against our attacks.
Slowly, the inexorable tide of tunnel rats pushed Martin and me back. Martin stumbled from exhaustion and we lost several more steps as I steadied him. Neither of us could hold out much longer.
I blinked back tears of rage and frustration and cried out, “I’m sorry, Callan. I did my best.”
Chapter 47
Callan
Despite their squat bodies, trogs can move fast when they want to. The Great One led the way down the tunnels at a run and I was hard pressed to keep up. He’d stop every now and then, listening and sniffing the air, giving me a chance to catch my breath. I don’t know if he really could smell anything or if he was just trying to make us think he could, but I appreciated the brief stops. The problem was we didn’t seem to be getting any closer to the fighting.
Sound echoed strangely in the tunnels, especially indistinct sounds such as clashing steel. If only someone would yell or call out, the sound might echo differently and help guide us to the fighting.
“For Callan and country!”
It was David’s voice! He was alive!
“For Martin and Mordan!”
Martin was alive, too!
The echoes still made things difficult, but the sound seemed most clear from a tunnel to our right.
“Great One—this way!”
The Great One shouldered his way back to us, sniffed once, then ran up the tunnel. Milo and I stood asid
e as the rest of the trogs charged off in his wake.
“Callan?”
“Yes, Milo?”
“May I please have permission to laugh at David and Martin for those battle cries?”
“Assuming we all survive the next few minutes, you most definitely have permission. But only if I get to listen in when you make fun of them,” I replied. “Do you want to bet on who came up with the idea of the battle cries?”
“Only if I can bet on Martin.”
“We can’t both bet on Martin, so I guess we won’t bet.” Then, I fell in behind the last of the trogs and saved my breath for running.
The sounds of battle were growing louder. We were heading in the right direction!
“There’s only two of them and one is already wounded. Press forward and grind them under our feet!”
Their situation sounded dire. God help me, I couldn’t come this close only to lose David in the end!
“Hurry, Great One!”
The Great One nodded and picked up the pace. It felt as if we charged on forever. I suspect it was mere seconds, but they seemed hours long to me. Then I heard a cry which froze my blood.
“I’m sorry, Callan. I did my best.”
“David Rice, don’t you dare die on me!” I yelled as loudly as I could.
A startled reply echoed down the tunnel. “Callan?”
“Damned right it’s me, David! And I brought help.”
The Great One rounded a bend in the tunnel and gave a ferocious cry of triumph. His trogs joined in as they raised their spears and charged into battle!
“Trogs!”
Even over the trog war cry, the terror in that cry was palpable. Screams sounded as the trogs pushed forward, Milo and me right on their heels.
“Tunnel rats, fight on and you will die. Surrender and your life will be spared. You have my word.” David’s voice rose above the din, calm and commanding.
Another scream sounded.
A sword clattered to the tunnel floor. “I surrender!”