He put his sword on his back and trudged to the tower. When he entered the barracks, he found a waterskin lying on his bed. Uncorking it, he put it to his lips and drank.
Wine, he thought, and despite the others sleeping about him, he laughed until he cried. Wine for a man in the desert.
He drank it all, and for the first time in what felt like months, slept peacefully.
18
Every step was painful, but Jerico pressed on, for he did not have much farther to go. Blisters covered his feet, everywhere that wasn’t already callused. His armor was heavy on his back, but he refused to remove it. Luther’s men had caught him unarmored, and without his shield, but he would not risk that again. After the priest had let him go, he’d found where he’d stashed his armor, dressed, and then flung his shield upon his back. He’d been tempted to go crashing back into the camp to rescue Sandra. They’d been so confident, they’d even given him his mace. But that wasn’t what she’d want. He knew that. A heroic but pointless death would not impress her.
No matter what Luther had said, he knew she would want him to go on to the Castle of Caves, to help save Arthur from Sebastian’s men. And so he ran along the path, every aching step pulling him away from where he thought Sandra remained imprisoned, and one step closer to the next battle at hand. He’d run all through the night, and then the day. His mind was in a fog, his stomach empty. It hurt at times, but he kept his legs moving, kept his lungs filled with air. He prayed Ashhur would give him the strength to continue, and, despite the pain, he never stopped.
Come nightfall, he could go no further. It didn’t even matter that he was in the center of the dirt road. A nighttime rider might have clomped right over him, but moving was no longer an option. Collapsing, Jerico hit the ground and passed out. His dreams were of Sandra lying in the dirt. A great hole was in her chest, where her heart had been. Black blood circled through her veins and spilled across his hands. When he woke, his eyes were red, and his stomach heaved, though he had nothing but bile to spit onto the dirt beside him.
“Not far,” he told himself. “Not far. Not far at all.”
Of course, getting to the castle was just the half of it. Getting inside would be an interesting endeavor. Much as he might like it, he doubted whoever was in charge of Sebastian’s troops would just let him walk right through their siege lines.
Jerico resumed his trek toward the castle, but this time at a walk. He kept his eyes peeled, and when he saw a small collection of bushes with overripe berries on them, he nearly burst into tears. He ate until he threw up, the red berries sickly sweet on his tongue, and then ate some more. Belly full, he resumed his walk, crossing the final few miles to the Castle of Caves. It was midday when he first saw the smoke of the enemy encampment surrounding the walls. Deciding he could no longer be so careless, he veered off the path and slowly wound through the hills, eyes open for any scouts who might be watching.
Atop the first hill, he lay flat and scanned the area. The castle was built upon a tall hill, and surrounding it on all sides were tents with the yellow rose waving from their banners. From what he could tell, only a limited amount of siege works had been built. It seemed Sebastian was confident of starving Arthur out...or that their commander was hesitant to sacrifice so many lives on such an assault.
“Soldiers, tents, and more soldiers,” Jerico muttered as he scratched his chin. “Of course things couldn’t be easy. That’d be crazy.”
The only time he’d been at the castle before was with Kaide, and they’d not entered through the main gates. Instead, they’d traveled through a tunnel built into the network of caves beneath the castle. Jerico wondered if he might use that same tunnel to bypass the army. He had only a vague idea where the entrance was, but he believed it to be outside the siege lines. Desperately praying he didn’t go from being one man’s prisoner to another’s, he hurried down the hill and farther away from the path.
Finding the entrance turned out to be easier than expected. Where it had once been carefully concealed, now he found the entire ground worked over, with dirt caved in and then covered with heavy rocks. Jerico stood before it and frowned. It seemed Sebastian’s men had discovered the tunnel, and when they couldn’t gain entrance to the castle that way, they sealed it over. Jerico thought of the traps he’d been shown, including the narrow bridge across the chasm he and Kaide had crossed. Kaide insisted it had been rigged to collapse. He wondered how many had fallen to their deaths before they gave up and just sealed it.
Jerico glanced about, and saw another worked entrance a hundred yards to his south. Kaide had said there were about twenty tunnels dug throughout the area. Was it possible Sebastian had found them all? More importantly, could he expect to find one that all the soldiers had missed?
“Oh no,” he muttered. “It just couldn’t be easy, could it?”
An idea came to him, and he sighed. It might work, but it could just as easily get him killed. But really, what else did he have to lose? At least if he died, Sandra might be spared. He’d tried not to think of her often, or of what continuing his fight might mean. Usually, he failed.
Jerico spent much of the day resting in the far hills, having moved away from the siege lines. He searched a bit for more berries, but sadly found none. He did find a stream, and drank until his stomach hurt. Crawling along, the day finally reached its end, and night came. Jerico returned to the hill overlooking the siege. He could see the faint outlines of men marching along the walls carrying torches, looking like miniscule lightning bugs. Still, tiny as they might be, he could see them. And that meant, just maybe...
He stood, took his shield in hand, and lifted it high. The front lit up, and as he prayed, it shone a strong blue-white. And then he waited to see who noticed him first. The eyes of the enemy should have been on the castle, while Arthur’s men looked out. All it would take would be one of them to realize what it was, and just one tunnel still intact.
A lot of ‘if’s. A lot of luck. Jerico tried not to think about that either.
“Come on,” he muttered, watching the men patrol the walls. “Come on, come on, see the big blue dot? Not a bug, not a fire, now turn and look!”
He held it for ten more minutes, then decided it was enough. If they hadn’t noticed his shield yet, then they might never. Holding it aloft any longer just increased the odds of the wrong party spotting him. Sitting down, he waited. And waited.
When someone tapped him on the shoulder, he nearly screamed.
“Jerico?” asked the man, caked with dirt. His hair was cut short, and his clothes were ragged.
“Damn it, man, can’t you make some noise when you walk?” Jerico asked.
The man looked about, clearly worried. If he noticed Jerico’s embarrassment, he didn’t show it.
“Follow me,” he said. “I saw a rider this way, and we have little time. Now hurry!”
The paladin thought he’d been far enough from the castle that no cave entrance might be beyond him, but he was wrong. His guide beckoned him to follow, and together they put their backs to Sebastian’s army and ran. There seemed to be nothing but hills and tall grass, but it was dark, and Jerico knew firsthand how well Arthur’s men could hide both themselves and the cave entrances. The man introduced himself as Jerek Wallace, talking in hurried, hush tones as they traveled.
“I fought alongside you at the Green Gulch,” he said, his furtive eyes always checking behind them. “Not with the bandit’s men, though. Arthur’s. It was our line you helped at the end, before the call to withdraw. Never forgot that shield of yours. A man swung at you with his sword, and it hit that light...” He slapped his hands together, then winced at the sound. “Sword shattered like it was made of glass. When Degan saw that blue light out here in the hills, I just knew it was you. Had to be.”
“Flattered,” Jerico said, and he was, though he also felt uncomfortable. All that adulation...did Jerek forget they actually lost that fight? “How far is the tunnel?”
“Not far,”
Jerek said, guiding him through a minor valley between two hills. They all looked the same to him, and the castle was growing disturbingly far away. It certainly explained why no one had located the entrance like the others. His guide glanced back, then swore.
“Get down,” he said, grabbing Jerico’s shoulder. The two fell to their bellies. Jerico shifted about so he could look. Two men on horses rode perpendicular to their path, torches held aloft. They looked like strange phantoms, just black shapes outlined by fire.
“Can they track us?” Jerico asked.
“Depends on how good they are,” Jerek whispered. “It’s dark, but you’re not too light on your feet.”
“It’s the armor.”
“If you say so.”
Jerico’s hand drifted to the hilt of his mace for reassurance.
“Don’t worry too much if we’re spotted,” he said. “Two against me? They’d need a lot more men.”
“Like that many?” Jerek asked, pointing. Seven more riders joined with them, and they crisscrossed the spaces between the hills.
“Yeah, that’d do it.”
“Looks like Sebastian’s men remember you as well as I do,” Jerek said, getting to his feet. He kept his back hunched and his body low. “We stay here, they’ll find us eventually. Follow me, and for the love of the gods, don’t put so much weight on your heels when you step.”
“You an elven scoutmaster now?” Jerico grumbled, doing his best to stay low and follow the man. Jerek tapped the slender bow slung over his shoulder.
“Best hunter Arthur’s ever known. Said so himself. Now hurry!”
They rushed on, and this time Jerico joined Jerek in taking worried glances backward. But true to his word, they were not far, though Jerico could hardly believe it when they arrived.
“Here we go,” Jerek said, stopping at a strange circle of yellow mayflowers.
“Where’s the tunnel?”
Jerek gave him an amused grin.
“Right here,” he said, standing in the flowers’ center. “By Karak’s bearded ghost!”
The man dropped right through the ground and vanished. Jerico blinked and lifted an eyebrow.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said. He stepped into the flowers and stomped a few times. No give. Nothing loose. Sighing, he shook his head and repeated the words, foolish as they were.
“By Karak’s bearded ghost?”
He went from standing on grass to air, and he dropped with a surprised yelp. Dirt passed over his eyes, and then he was in pure darkness. His feet hit ground, and the landing jarred his knees. He started to fall, then his body halted as it struck stone. A thousand curses ran through his mind, and he wanted to yell all of them.
“What was that?” he asked instead.
“Arthur had all our tunnels dug and worked by us,” Jerek said, his voice a few feet ahead of him. “All but this one.”
Jerico pulled his shield off his back. At his touch it lit up, revealing his surroundings. He and Jerek were in a cramped space cut out of dirt and stone. Before them was a small tunnel, so long that his light could not reach its end. A foot above his head were planks of wood, and he pressed against them with his hand, still surprised by their solidity.
“Magic?” he asked.
“Believe so. This was back when he and his brother first had their fallout. Brought a wizard all the way over from Veldaren, if you’d believe it, some queer looking man in yellow. Arthur wanted someone not associated with the council.”
“The activation phrase?”
Jerek shrugged.
“Wizard’s idea. Most of the other tunnels have been found, but not this one.” He frowned. “Going to be a tight fit with all that armor.”
“I’m not taking it off.”
“You might get stuck.”
Jerico looked at the cramped tunnel ahead. While he could currently stand, going on ahead would involve crawling on his hands and knees. He thought about what it might be like to be stuck in such a claustrophobic space.
“I’ll manage,” he said, trying not to sound worried. He was the hero of the Gulch, after all. Hate to disappoint the hunter.
Jerek shrugged, then fell to his hands and knees and began crawling. Jerico swallowed, took a deep breath, then wondered where the air was coming from. Reminding himself others had used the tunnel plenty of times before, he slung his shield onto his back, returning them to darkness. Using his hands to feel ahead, he crawled into the tunnel after Jerek.
His armor scratched and creaked, and he didn’t want to imagine the damage he was doing to it. Probably take all day to bang out and polish the dents. In the tight space, the noise was tremendous.
“Hey, Jerek?”
“Yeah?”
He stopped a moment to catch his breath.
“Can anyone hear us above ground?”
“Normally I’d say no, but damn you’re making a ruckus.”
Jerico laughed.
“Let’s hope they have no shovels, then.”
Progress was slow, one hand after the other. So far there seemed to be no turns, but he feared banging his head against one when they reached it. The tunnel had a very steady slope downward, which helped a little. Often he had to shift his weight one way or the other as a piece of his armor or an edge of his shield caught a rock. The ground itself was wet and cold, which explained Jerek’s appearance when they had first met. As the minutes wore on, Jerico felt the weight of the earth above him growing more present in his mind, and it seemed he could not catch his breath.
“One of these days,” he muttered. “One of these days, I’m going to enter your lord’s castle through the front door, just to say I did.”
“What’s that?” Jerek called out. His voice was disturbingly far away, and Jerico pushed himself along faster.
“I asked how long does it normally take to get to the castle?”
“An hour, but at your rate, I’m thinking three.”
Jerico pressed his forehead against the back of his hands as he took another deep breath.
“It would’ve been easier to fight my way through Sebastian’s army. More exciting, too.”
Jerek’s laughter echoed from up ahead, urging Jerico on. After what felt like an eternity, his fingers brushed against the first turn. Following it, his stomach lurched as the path downward steepened tremendously.
“If you’re covered with enough mud, you can just push yourself down and slide,” Jerek told him, having waited there for his arrival. Jerico jumped at the sound of his voice so close, and was glad the darkness hid the descent.
“I don’t think I’ll be doing much sliding,” he said.
“I think you’ll be surprised.”
He heard the sound of skittering rocks, and then silence. Jerico followed, crawling along. His blood rushed to his head, but movement was certainly easier. He pulled himself along for ten more feet or so, then found himself at an even steeper decline. Deciding to give it a shot, he dug his fingers into the dirt and flung himself forward. The following sensation of speeding down a drop in pitch black was something he never, ever wanted to endure again.
At the bottom he heard steps, and then an arm grabbed his. To his surprise, he was able to stand, and removing his shield, he lit the space up with its light.
“Welcome to the deepest cave,” Jerek said, gesturing. It was about thrice their height, though the stalactites were long enough that Jerico could reach up and brush them with his fingers. The walls, floors, and ceiling were wet, and water dripped constantly from above.
“I thought it’d take an hour,” Jerico said as he glanced behind him, seeing that they’d emerged from a manmade tunnel into the natural cave.
“It will. Never said we’d be crawling the whole way, though.”
Jerico clenched his teeth together.
“There’s many, many things I want to call you right now,” he told his guide, who only laughed.
“Come on,” he said. “And step lightly. The ground is slick, and with all
that weight, you might take a nasty tumble.”
Slick floor or not, Jerico was just glad to stand, and have the light of his shield once more. Jerek led the way, and he followed, once more admiring the beauty of the cave. He had no idea whether or not it connected to the others that he and Kaide had used, but it wouldn’t have surprised him. The minutes passed as they made their way carefully through the cave. Many times they encountered sections where the floor had been carved into steps, or passageways had been widened. The ugly marks of pickaxes and hammers ruined the beauty, but at the same time, after his weary crawl, Jerico felt glad to not have to do it again.
At last they reached the end. Above them was a tall ladder, at least twenty feet high, and above that, a trapdoor.
“Guests first,” Jerek said, gesturing.
Jerico put his shield on his back, returning them to darkness. Grabbing the rungs of the ladder, he tested their strength and found them thankfully strong, without an ounce of give. Climbing until his head bumped against the top, he felt against it with a free hand.
“There a latch?” he asked.
“The side closest to you. You’ll find it. Push up.”
Jerico finally did, and when cool, fresh air blew against his face, he felt happy enough to cry. Crawling out, he found himself in the center of Arthur’s courtyard, emerging from a hole. Rubbing his eyes, he looked to his left and saw a bench and realized he and Arthur had sat and talked mere feet from the tunnel exit.
“If a siege ever went sour, this is where Arthur would flee, isn’t it?” he asked as he helped Jerek up.
“That’s the idea,” Jerek said, closing the trapdoor behind him. The top was covered with sod and grass, and Jerek did his best to smooth it out. The two looked at one another, both covered with mud. Jerek gave him a grin.
“I think you look fit to meet a lord, don’t you?”
Jerico pointed at him, his finger an inch from his nose.
“One day,” he said. “Just...one day.”
Paladins: Book 03 - The Old Ways Page 19