by Jenner, M
Kern slapped Galandrik’s face, trying to rouse the unconscious dwarf. A trickle of blood seeped out from under his helmet as Galandrik grunted and his eyes rolled in their sockets.
Another guard appeared on the other side. “I’ll cut the bridge,” Ty said, pulling a dagger from his belt.
“Don’t; this may be a dead end,” Kern said, helping Galandrik stand up.
“Good call,” Ty replied. “Quick, then, follow me,” and he stepped into the corridor. Sleeper hissed as Ty slipped an arm through the backpack strap and swung it roughly onto his shoulder.
“What happened?” Galandrik asked, rubbing his forehead.
“Explain later, friend. Follow Ty,” Kern said, pushing Galandrik into the gap. An arrow pinged against the wall next to him as he followed Galandrik into the next tunnel.
This second tunnel was even darker than the first. It bored straight through the rock, and had no light coming in from above. Ty lit a torch and looked around carefully for hidden traps as he led the way. The corridor ran on for a good hundred paces on a slight incline. It opened onto a circular chamber, and Ty stepped forward and lit the wall torches on either side of the room. There was one door, which appeared to be the room’s only other entrance or exit. Ty examined the door as Kern brought a still-dazed Galandrik up to date regarding his adventures on the rope bridge.
“No traps,” Ty said, “and I think I can pick it.” He knelt down and unravelled his lock picks, and soon the lock clicked open. Ty stepped back and gestured to Kern.
“Your hands broken?” Kern asked, but he stepped forward without hesitation. He placed an ear close to the door, then eased it open, tilting his head to one side to peep round the corner. “It’s just another corridor,” Kern said, opening the door fully. They filed into the new passageway, Galandrik limping slightly from the rope burns he’d sustained earlier.
Ty knelt down and re-locked the door behind them. “I can’t see Bok opening this,” he laughed.
“Why, because you’re the best?” Kern said rather dismissively as he gazed around the room. He spotted another door and went to investigate it.
“No, because I messed his hands up, remember?” Ty sniggered.
“Oh yes – I’d forgotten about that,” Galandrik said, placing his hand on Ty shoulder.
Kern placed his hand on the door handle and listened. “It seems all quiet,” Kern announced.
Before Ty could reply, the door flew open, knocking Kern backwards into Galandrik, and eight lizard warriors ran into the room. Spears pointed at them from every direction.
The lizard people were an enormous race – the shortest among them stood seven feet tall, and their tails were the same again in length. Renowned for their organization in battle and stubborn refusal to die easily, they were fearsome warriors. Most wore only light leather armour; there was the odd shield, but always they fought with spears. Their reach with their chosen weapons made it nigh impossible to challenge them with daggers and short swords.
Sprawled on the floor, Kern looked up at Ty and shook his head. The three of them raised their arms.
“Put down your weaponsss,” the lead lizard hissed.
“Okay, we will do as you ask. We mean you no trouble,” Kern replied, kneeling and laying his sword on the ground in front of him.
“Ssshut it, human!” the lizard said, using his spear to push Kern off balance. Then he spied Galandrik. “Oh look, we have a dwarvesss. Oglar likesss the tassste of dwarvesss,” he hissed.
“This ‘Oglar’ must have real bad taste then,” Ty said with false cheer. The lizard turned to face the thief.
“What have we here, thensss, a little wormsss?” He levelled his spear against Ty’s chest and slowly pushed him backwards until he was pinned against the wall.
“I have sometimes been called a Rat, but never a worm,” Ty said, his voice sounding slightly less amused. The spear creaked and bent slightly against his light leather tunic; at any minute, Ty thought, it was penetrate straight through him.
“Oglar likess them alives, Ssied!” said another lizard from behind Ty’s tormentor. The lizard Sied relented, but he continued to glare at Ty. His reptilian eyes reminded Ty of cat’s eyes, bright green with jet-black pupils. It was like looking into the eyes of death itself, Ty thought with a shiver.
Sied slowly stepped back, releasing the pressure from Ty’s chest. “I know thisss, Kaleem. Bring themss!”
Bok, his ear pressed to the door, looked up at Svorn and put one finger up to his lips. “Shhh,” he said softly.
“What’s going on?” Svorn whispered back.
“Lizards, lots of lizards,” Bok replied. “We can’t get through this way; we need to find the western exit and catch them there.”
“What makes you think they will make it past the lizards?” Svorn asked, clearly sceptical.
“He is an elusive little bastard; it would be wise to remember that,” Bok replied.
“All right, we’ll wait for twenty-four hours, but I’m not giving him any longer than that. If he doesn’t show up by then, we will presume him dead,” Svorn said, turning to leave.
“He will escape. He always escapes,” Bok hissed quietly as he followed Svorn.
Chapter Twenty-Two: Big Trouble Little Worm
The lizards rounded them up and led them along a new corridor. “You should probably thank Kaleem,” Kern whispered.
“I thought I was a goner,” Ty admitted.
“Keep your mouth shut then,” Galandrik added.
“Sshut itsss mouth upss,” Sied said, turning back. The metal spearhead knocked the top of Ty’s head, making him squint.
The lizards led them down one corridor after another, all lit by lanterns hanging on rusty brackets. They passed spaces which looked like they’d been offices and living quarters, dating back to when these mountains had been used as barracks, many hundreds of years earlier. After a good walk they arrived at two massive doors rising twenty feet high. Sied banged on the door with his fist. They heard gears churning, chains rattling, clicks and bangs seeming to come from within the mountain itself.
Slowly the great doors started to open; wind rushed through the widening gap between the doors, and the smell of roasted meats filled their nostrils. Ty felt Sleeper stirring in his backpack and knew the dragon couldn’t be kept hidden in there much longer. Sleeper needed food and, one way or another, he would get out; the tantalizing aroma of the food would only make the baby dragon more curious.
The doors finished opening and the party walked through, prodded none too gently by the spears behind them. This looked like a feasting hall; lines of tables and chairs squared the room, and giant lizard tapestries lined the walls, depicting battles from many moons gone by. From the ceiling hung a giant wooden chandelier filled with candles. Behind the head table, two massive thrones studded with gems and covered in gold leaf overlooked the room. Bright red cushions adorned the seats of both. The worker lizard men and women scurried around the room, preparing for what looked to be an event of some size. Ty tried to assess the value of the wealth in this room, but it staggered him; so many gems and trinkets were embedded all around, he couldn’t even begin to count them.
They were prodded along through the hall, until they finally exited into a corridor opening at the far end. A hundred feet down the corridor, the path forked; they were ushered to the left and down some stairs. The stairs spiralled down and down for what seemed like hours and then, when the steps eventually levelled out, after a few more paces the group was pushed into an empty room. The door slammed shut behind them. Ty immediately inspected the door, “No lock,” he said, shaking his head. “Must be barred from the other side.”
“Walls look like they won’t be knocked down in a hurry,” Galandrik added, rubbing his hands along the wall. “The craftsmanship is quality.”
“Knocked down with what, anyway?” Kern asked irritably. “Got a siege engine in your backpack? We don’t even have our weapons!” He sat down and rubbed his hands alo
ng his arms in an attempt to generate some body heat.
“I’m glad they did leave our backpacks alone,” Ty replied, lifting Sleeper from his pack. “If they’d found him, it would have been all for nothing.”
“And it still WILL be all for nothing, when they feed us to this Oglar,” Kern laughed bitterly.
“Let’s be optimistic here, we’re not dead yet,” Ty replied, stroking his pet. Sleeper was beginning to lift off the ground now. With only a few flaps of his wings he could easily rise to the level of Ty’s head, and he was even starting to go forwards and backwards. His constant squawking appeared to be an attempt at breathing fire, but so far but only small puffs of smoke had ever emerged.
“They grow quick, don’t they?” Galandrik said into the silence.
“Yes. I hope we find the mother soon,” Ty replied.
“Find the mother? Have a look around you, for fuck’s sake. We have a hundred lizard warriors and an ‘Oglar’ to worry about! If it wasn’t for you and that the blasted dragon, we wouldn’t even be here!” Kern shouted.
“Listen, no one made you come! I could have left you in the orc mines, or Conn’s dungeon! Would that have been better?”
“Oh, here we go again. Ty the saviour!”
“Tell me I am wrong then,” Ty said angrily.
“No, no – you are dead right. We were in those places, and we were there because of you!”
“How in Hades is it my fault?”
“It’s always your fault!” Kern said, turning his back.
“That’s right, turn away,” Ty said sarcastically.
Kern spun round and walked towards Ty. Galandrik could see the fury in his eyes and stepped in front of him. “Calm down, lad, this isn’t helping anyone.” He held Kern by the arm for ten tense seconds, and finally Kern shook his head in disgust and, with a grunt, turned away again.
Galandrik pointed at Ty as the thief opened his mouth to say something else.
“Don’t,” Galandrik said softly but decisively.
Nothing else was said for a few hours until, in the ringing silence, they heard footsteps outside the door. Ty quickly offered the backpack to Sleeper, who slid inside obediently.
The door opened and six guards stood outside. “Get out,” the lead lizard said; Kern recognised him from their earlier encounter: Kaleem. Hands in the air, they walked from the room in single file.
Once more they were led down corridors full of twists and turns, eventually coming to a great rounded door. Kaleem rapped twice on the door, and again they heard the clunks and clangs of some hidden mechanism. The door rolled open to reveal an enormous circular room. Three imposing pillars formed semi-circles along either side of the room, and lit torches were mounted on each pillar, casting a smoky, flickering light. On the other side of this room, across a sand-covered floor and directly opposite the doorway in which they stood, was a ten foot tall steel-barred gate.
All three were pushed into the room and the door slammed shut behind them.
“Like lambs to the slaughter,” Kern said quietly out the corner of his mouth, as if not to awaken anything that might be lurking in the darkness.
“Indeed,” Galandrik quietly replied.
Ty padded quietly in the direction of the nearest pillar, scouting out the room. As he drew nearer to the pillar, something on the ground behind it caught his eye. Bending down, he picked up a bastard sword. “Catch,” he said, tossing it to Kern.
Kern caught the blade and examined it closely. “This is older than the mountains.”
“Here’s another,” Galandrik said, picking up a scimitar.
Before long each member of the party had picked up a weapon, Kern had also found a wooden buckler, but he doubted it could withstand a blow from a child, let alone from an Oglar, whatever that was.
Ty shrugged off his backpack and laid it down behind one of the pillars. Unbuckling the leather straps, he whispered into the bag, “If this turns bad, go find your mother.”
Suddenly they could see lights from above. The ceiling glowed resplendently; embedded with rubies and emeralds, it seemed to sparkle and dance. The reds and greens reflected down onto the arena floor, giving it a very colourful look; as the torchlights flickered, the reds and greens made the floor shimmer and move in a magical display of lights.
Lizard men and women appeared on the balcony encircling the top half of the room. Before long the balcony was full, and the noise and cheering was deafening. At the far end of the balcony, above the barred gate, were two empty thrones, flanked on either side by two guards in glistening white armour. They stood erect and immobile, holding their spears and their bright golden shields; each of their helmets was crested with a plume of white feathers and their breastplates featured the emblem of a snake twining around a hawk.
A few of the lizard people began throwing pieces of rotten fruit down into the arena, but the threesome easily dodged the slimy missiles. Ty bent down to pick a piece up, intending to throw it back into the crowd, only to find two rusty daggers in the sand. He tucked them into his belt and thought wistfully about the lost invisibility ring, wishing he still had it at his disposal.
The crowd went quiet just as a piece of rotten fruit landed at Ty’s feet. Into the suddenly hushed arena walked two regally dressed lizards – well, as close to royalty as a lizard could get. Each wore a crown of gold smothered in gems that glistened in the torchlights lining the balcony. Their flowing robes were heavily embroidered with multi-coloured silks and silver thread, each with an elaborate belt closely cinching the waist. Silver daggers rode in gem-studded sheaths affixed to the belts, and even from where he stood on the arena floor, Ty could make out the diamonds embedded in the daggers’ handles.
The lizard Queen sat whilst the lizard King stood staring down at the threesome. Slowly lifted his arm and pointed, then spoke in a clear, carrying voice. “Todayss, you threess will fight to sssurvive. You breakss into our homess and tryss to sssteal our gemssess,” he said, the room deathly quiet apart from his echoing voice. “Now you payss!”
Ty stepped forward, whipping a dagger from his belt. He hurled it towards the lizard King, but it had barely left his hand before two loud cracks resounded in the stillness. Lizard guards on either side of the balcony stood, each holding a whip; the tongue of one whip flicked the dagger out of the air and it landed harmlessly in the sand in the middle of the arena. Ty felt the other whip lash across his face, and before he even realized what had happened, he was lying on the ground, one hand to his cheek. The pain seared through his head, at first dull, then blossoming into a bright flame of agony. He could feel the warm blood trickling through his fingers.
Kern quickly bent down. “What are you doing, you fool?” he whispered harshly, examining the cut across Ty’s face.
“Help me up,” Ty replied. Kern extended a hand and pulled, and Ty stood up, flicking the blood from his hand to the floor. He stared steadily at the King, as if the whip had been nothing but a graze, though his face throbbed and he could feel the blood running from the torn cheek. He resisted the urge to wipe his face, and held the lizard King’s gaze in silence.
The two guards closest to the King had stepped forward at Ty’s first movement, moving their shields together to form a protective wall in front of their King. Now they slowly pulled them away, revealing a grinning King. “Ssuch sspirit for ssuch a little worm,” he said, laughing. “Releassse Oglar!” he shouted, and the crowd screamed with joy.
“Spread out,” Kern ordered, hoisting the shield in front of him. He spun the rapier in his other hand a few times, finally resting it on top of his shield, pointing towards the portcullis. “Our best chance is a three-pronged attack!” he shouted, hoping his friends could hear him above the cheering of the crowd.
The giant barred door lifted slowly; two lizards worked tirelessly at a system of rotating wheels, ropes, and pulleys to raise its massive weight.
Ty dashed behind a pillar on the right side of the arena, and Galandrik took a similar positi
on on the left. “I’ll grab his attention, you two strike when you can,” Ty said as he leaned against the pillar, gathering his courage. He glanced over his shoulder at the slowly rising gate; sweat streamed down his cheeks, mixing with blood and stinging his open wound fiercely. The sweat was running into his eyes, but he found his hands were trembling so he kept them at his sides, clenched into hard fists, and tried to blink the droplets away.
When a tomato squelched against his shoulder, Ty looked up and saw a young lizard laughing to another and pointing. Ty moved forward to the middle right pillar, away from the young lizards and the distraction of their missiles. Kern noticed Ty’s movement, and gestured for Galandrik to do the same; if he could lead his foe past the middle pillars, maybe – just maybe – his friends would have the opportunity to attack from behind.
The gate had reached its zenith and the arena went quiet. Kern could feel his breath quickening, his heart nearly bursting from his chest. It wasn’t the fight, he thought; it was the crowd, the spectacle of it all; the intimidation levels were immense. He wasn’t a gladiator; he was a ranger – a hunter, a fair fighter, but no gladiator.
Into the sudden hush sounded slow, thudding footsteps, the ground trembling beneath the unwilling combatants with each step. An immense, hulking shape began to resolve from the darkness, until finally it stepped into the torchlight of the arena: a mountain Troll, at least eight feet tall, his forearms and legs bulging with muscles, and nothing but a loin cloth covering his modesty. The troll carried a club in one hand, a length on chain in the other. His huge head and bulbous eyes were menacing and mean; hundreds of scars lined the troll’s face and chest from years of arena fighting. Around his neck was a thick metal collar, with one large ring hanging under his chin. Leather straps bound his feet with a similar metal ring on either side; they must keep him restrained, Kern thought, when he’s not ripping people’s heads off for a bloodthirsty crowd.