Gorgoroth (Haladras Trilogy Book 2)

by Michael Karr

  When the dogs arrived, he could hear them sniffing around the stones covering his hiding hole, pawing at them. A short time later, he felt the ground being to rumble, as the hunting party approached. The baron immediately called off the hounds.

  “Leave the rabbits alone. Where did he go?” Endrick could hear a muffled voice say.

  “Maybe he jumped off the cliff,” said another.

  Endrick heard muffled laughter.

  There was a sound like men stomping the ground. Then all went quiet for a time. Endrick imagined them peering over the edge, spying the bit of fabric on the ledge, the armor far below.

  Eventually, he heard rustling, a muffled shout, followed by howls and the rumbling of the earth as the hunting party sped off. Unable to wait until the party was a safe distance away, Endrick struggled to move back the stone covering his head. He needed more air to breath. Just a few inches was sufficient to let a fresh stream of air into his hole. There he lay, unmoving, mostly buried, until he deemed the hunting party must be working its way down the ravine.

  Then he began unearthing himself in earnest. Once free of his hole, Endrick started running back the way he had come. Shortly afterward, he came across exactly who he hoped to find. The cavalcade of carriages with their feminine passengers, as well as a few carts loaded with supplies. Hiding behind a large boulder, he waited for the lead carriage to pass. As soon as the carriage doors were beside him he sprang from his hiding sport, grabbed onto the carriage, opened the door, and scrambled inside.

  The startled woman inside let out a shriek at the sight of him. It was not loud enough, though, to alert the driver. And the carriage continued to bump along.

  “I haven’t bathed in over a week,” Endrick told her. “I’m filthy”

  His upper torso was bare, too.

  The woman twisted up her face and pressed herself closer to the corner.

  “If you scream or in anyway try to alert the driver, I’ll hug you.”

  She looked at him with disgust. “You’ll do nothing of the sort.” With surprising deftness, she produced a stiletto from beneath her seat cushion and held it out threateningly.

  Endrick raised his sword, letting the point rest just under her chin. Persuaded not to fight, the woman dropped the dagger and glared at him fiercely. He had planned to make use of the woman, but deeming her too uncooperative, he bound and gagged her with her own lace. Then he called out the window to the driver in his best falsetto, the woman’s bonnet covering his head. It took him three tries, squawking like a pregnant hen, before the driver stopped the carriage.

  “Driver, I’m not feeling well,” he said. “Take me home.”

  By some miracle, it worked. The driver turned the carriage around and headed toward the baron’s estate. Endrick kept the curtains drawn until they were well away from the baron’s land. Eventually, they came across a small village. Endrick, bidding his hostess adieu with a slobbery kiss on the hand, surreptitiously climbed out of the carriage.

  In the village, he sold the flawed sword for enough money to purchase some food, a new tunic, a dagger, and some information.

  “Well, that’s about all that’s interesting, I think,” said Endrick, cutting off his account. “You know most of the rest. Now, can we go to sleep?”

  “But how did you find me?” said Skylar, far from satisfied. “And how did you end up here with—”

  “Wenna? That’s her name. You sure are full of questions. This is my thanks for saving your life? Well, finding you was simple. You bit my finger, remember?”

  “I know, but who did you know I was in the castle?”

  “Right, well I asked one of the other slaves with me. A chatty fellow…said he knew you. Witless or Wickham, or something like that.”

  “Witum!” cried Skylar. “You met him? Do you know what happened to him?”

  “Talked my ear off on the journey to the baron’s estate, that’s what happened to him. He was alive last I saw him.”

  Skylar silently wondered if Witum might escape the baron too. Should they try to help him?

  “I still don’t understand how Wenna is involved here,” he said after a moment.

  “Well, as far as I’m concerned the woman’s a saint. She found us trying to take refuge in a place where we’d likely have been robbed, then murdered, then robbed again. I was as weak as a baby by that point. In no state to fend off anyone. Who knows what they would have done to Kendyl?”

  “Kendyl!” ejaculated Skylar. “She was with you?”

  “Of course.”

  Skylar leapt to his feet, staring at Endrick with eyes like a crazed lunatic.

  “Well…where is she?”

  “Not so loud. You’ll wake her and Wenna. She’s in the next room.”

  Twenty-four

  “You rescued Kendyl and you didn’t tell me?” Skylar fought to keep the anger he felt from rising into his voice.

  “What?” replied Endrick. “Did you think I would save you before her? I would have rescued Grüny before you if I knew where to find him. That Witless fellow didn’t seem to know.”

  “How is she?”

  Endrick’s face grew somber, and he turned to stare at the dying glow of the cook fire. His face looked more lined and careworn than Skylar remembered. Perhaps it was just the shadows accentuating what had always been there.

  “There’s nothing physically wrong with her. Aside from that…well, it’s difficult to know. She’s quiet.”

  Skylar clenched his fists. If only he had not been such a fool and let Tanks escape…If only he hadn’t trusted the smugglers in the first place…If only he had never come…

  “How did you rescue her?”

  “I’d rather not talk about it. It’s not important. What’s important is trying to figure out how to save Grüny.”

  “I think I know where he is.”

  Then he told him about General Karíknof and the feast to take place the following night. And his fear of what would happen to Grüny if they didn’t rescue him in time.

  “Do you think Wenna might know where to find this General Karíknof?” asked Skylar.

  “There’s only one way to find out. Go to bed and ask her in the morning.”

  * * *

  As it turned out, Wenna knew where to find General Karíknof’s estate. The General was well known to the people. His estate lay outside the city walls scarcely more than a league. One of Wenna’s friends worked in a washhouse, which often handled the laundry from the General’s estate. The washhouse women loved to gossip. As they took in everyone’s dirty linens, they also took into everyone’s dirty secrets. The General’s estate was no exception to this rule.

  That morning, Wenna took Skylar and Endrick to visit her friend at the washhouse. They had left Kendyl alone in Wenna’s apartment. As much as it pained him to let her out of his sight, Skylar felt marginally better knowing she was off the streets. And Wenna would return to the apartment soon. Despite the fact that he knew practically nothing about who the old woman was—only that she was a Tor—he felt he could trust her. If Witum and this woman were proof, not all the Tors were as bloodthirsty and depraved as he believed. At least, he hoped his intuition about the woman was correct. He’d been painfully wrong too many times since their quest began. This old woman had voluntarily helped Endrick and Kendyl. Was that not sufficient evidence of her trustworthiness?

  Kendyl. She was safe. It was yet to be seen if she was damaged. That morning, she had not spoken to him. For his part, he hadn’t known what to say to her—if he should say anything to her. He wanted to say so much. Instead, he had just looked at her, trying to convey his multiplicity of feelings with his eyes. All her eyes had portrayed was sorrow. In some ways, it had pained him tenfold more to see her than when she was still lost to him.

  At the washhouse, Wenna’s friend confirmed Skylar’s intelligence about the General holding a feast that night. She knew nothing of Grüny, but suspected that if he was on th
e menu, the cook would ensure the meat was a fresh as possible.

  “How fresh?” asked Skylar.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe an hour or two before.” The rotund woman let out a deranged laugh. “Don’t have much experience with it, myself.”

  “Do you know a good way to sneak into the General’s house? Is it well guarded?”

  The woman lifted the garment she was washing from her wash basin and inspected it. Her face, pot-marked and reddened by the heat of the washhouse, wrinkled up in concentration. She turned the garment around before plunging it into the basin for further scrubbing.

  “I don’t know nothing about sneaking into to nowhere,” she said louder than was necessary for Skylar and Endrick to hear.

  Then she leaned in closer to Skylar and said in a lower tone, “I did happen to hear that Harkun’s is making a delivery of a few casks of mead later today.”

  She winked at him, then returned her focus to her washing.

  * * *

  Skylar and Endrick sat huddled behind an outcropping of rocks, waiting. Their hiding place commanded a good view of the dirt road, while concealing them from view of outbound travelers from the city. They were—Skylar hoped—far enough away from the city to not attract attention when the time came for them to act.

  Skylar checked the hand-drawn map, which Wenna had drawn for him, for the hundredth time. Was this the correct road? If not, only too late they might find out. Too late to save Grüny. Even now, Skylar wondered if Grüny was alive.

  Waiting felt like slow torture.

  He and Endrick spoke little as they kept their watch on the road. Skylar had planned to pry Endrick for information about Kendyl’s rescue. He felt too anxious for needless communication.

  Another hour passed. Then another.

  Skylar felt he could not bear to wait another moment.

  “Another quarter of an hour, and I say go at it alone,” said Skylar, kicking at a pile of loose gravel. “We can’t sit here all day. We don’t even know if they’re really coming.”

  “So, your new plan is to march up to the front door and demand they hand Grüny over? Like as not, they’ll throw us into the stew pot with him.”

  “I’m not going to let Grüny get slaughtered while we sit around doing nothing,” said Skylar, exasperation causing his voice to rise.

  “Instead, you want all three of us to get slaughtered?”

  “You don’t have to come. I’ll go alone.”

  “Right, I’ve heard that one before.”

  Endrick sighed, then peeked around the edge of their hiding spot to spy on the road. When he turned back, Skylar looked at him expectantly. Endrick shook his head and sighed again.

  “Alright,” he said, “you win. We’d better get walking. That accursed road’s still empty—except for two men driving a cart filled with barrels.”

  “What?”

  Skylar made to look for himself. Endrick yanked him back down to the ground.

  “It’s honorable of you to want to give them a fair warning, but I think it’s best we wait until they’re closer.”

  “Is there really a cart?”

  “Listen for yourself.”

  Trying to focus his ears passed the thump of his own beating heart, Skylar listening intently. For several seconds he heard nothing. Then came the muted clatter of what could only be the wheels of a cart. The sound gradually increased, until men’s voices mingled with the sound, as well as the clomp of hooves on the hard-packed earth. Skylar’s excitement mounted. A sudden realization struck him: they had no plan of attack. Endrick had his dagger, but Skylar had no weapon. The men driving the cart would be fools to travel such roads without means of protecting their goods. He took hold of two large stones, while chiding himself for acting too hastily.

  “Put those down,” whispered Endrick. “Go run in front of the cart.”

  Skylar furrowed his brow in confusion.

  “Go,” urged Endrick. “Distract them. I’ll take care of the rest.”

  With no time to argue, Skylar decided to follow Endrick’s plan. Quickly springing up, he dashed out into the middle of the road. It was not a moment too soon either. The cart was less than a meter away. The driver reined in the two shaggy beasts pulling the carts. The animals groaned and chomped at their bits. One snorted hot breath into Skylar's face. The beast’s yellow eyes looked sickly. Skylar wouldn’t have been surprised if these animals collapsed right then and died.

  “What are ya doing!” cried the burly driver, waving his fist in the air. “Get out of the road, you idiot.”

  “I, uh,” stammered Skylar, trying hard not to let his eyes steal a glance at Endrick. “I need help.”

  “You’ll need more than help if you don’t get out of the way.”

  Just as the driver made to flick the reins for his beasts to plow over Skylar, Endrick leapt from the top of the rocky hideout onto the cart and grabbed hold of the driver’s companion.

  “What that…” growled the man, as he grappled Endrick.

  Before Endrick could get the better of the man, the pair toppled out of the cart onto the road. Endrick landed on his back with the deliveryman coming down on top of him. The deliveryman scrambled to his feet, drew a short-bladed saber from his side and started slashed at the air in front of Endrick.

  Abandoning his blockade in front of the cart, Skylar hurried to Endrick’s aid. Taking no time to think, Skylar jumped, wrapping his arms around the man’s neck. The man immediately reeled back and grasped at Skylar’s arms with his free hand. Skylar held on tight. When the man failed to pull Skylar away or fling him off, he brought up his sword and knocked Skylar squarely on the side of the head with the pommel.

  Skylar’s vision bleared with stars. But he managed to hold on.

  Again, the delivery man struck his temple. The blow rang in his ears. Involuntarily, Skylar let go of the man’s neck and fell the ground, dazed.

  When he came to his senses, Endrick was helping him to his feet. The delivery man lay face up on the ground, a fist-size welt rising out of his bald pate, a rock of the same size lying nearby.

  “You were right about the rock,” said Endrick. “Much better than my idea. I hope he wakes up with a headache that lasts a week.”

  Skylar rubbed his own head tenderly.

  “Why didn’t you use the dagger?”

  “Seemed too easy. Well done blocking the cart, by the way.”

  “What?”

  But Endrick was already running on ahead. Skylar turned to discover that the driver had left without his companion. Neither he nor the cart were anywhere to be seen. The driver must have taken off as soon as Skylar had moved out of the way. Giving his dizzy head a vigorous shake, Skylar broke into a sprint, following after Endrick.

  A short distance up the road, they came to a bend that broke free of the outcroppings occluding their view. The cart and driver rumbled ahead of them no more than a hundred yards. Even at that distance, Skylar could hear the driver whipping and shouting at the beasts for all they were worth. Skylar felt grateful that the animals pulling the cart were obviously not built for speed. Passing Endrick, Skylar dashed after the fleeing cart with all the speed he could muster.

  Within a few minutes, he reached the cart and leapt into the back, where the wooden casks of mead jostled back and forth. Using the casks as support, he cautiously worked his way toward the front. The driver evidently did not know about his new passenger. Skylar wished to keep it that way. Though, he wasn’t exactly sure what he would do once he reached the front. If only he had one of those rocks. Lacking any kind of weapon, he would have to try and push the driver off his bench. Skylar wondered if that was even possible, The driver commanded considerably more mass than he.

  Wanting to push with some momentum and from a side angle, Skylar moved a little to the right. He immediately realized the folly in this action. As soon as he moved over, his shadow showed clearly on the bench next to the driver. The driver sp
un around and growled.

  “You little…”

  With a swipe of his arm, the driver tried to grab Skylar’s leg. Skylar dodged. Infuriated, the driver pulled out his sword, turned and rose to his feet, letting the animals pull the cart without his control.

  “I’m going to cut you to ribbons, you little pest,” he growled, as he pointed his sword at Skylar’s chest whilst struggling to maintain his balance on the moving cart.

  Skylar cast his eyes about for some means of defending himself. There was nothing. His best option was to get out of the cart as quickly as possible. The driver swiped his blade. Skylar staggered backward, barely dodging it. The driver lifted his arm to strike again. Skylar scrambled to get out of its reach. Suddenly the cart pitched forward, a wheel having struck a deep rut in the road. The unexpected motion caused the driver lose his footing. For a moment, he fought to regain his balance before tumbling headlong off the side of the cart.

  The lurch of the cart had knocked Skylar over, too. But he fell forward, his body flopping across one of the casks. Quickly, he crawled his way to the front of the cart, where he reined in the animals.

  When he looked back, he discovered the driver lying unmoving on the road. Endrick came running up, and checked the man.

  “Unconscious,” said Endrick. “Hit his head on that stone. If I were you, I’d try to avoid hitting the rocks around here. Seem to be good at rendering people insensible. I’m driving that cart, by the way.”

  With a quarter of an hour, they arrived at the outer gate of the General’s estate. A sprawling gray mansion, with countless windows, surrounded by an immaculate lawn and groves of trees. Of all he’d seen of Gorgoroth thus far, this was undoubtedly the most verdant yet. In fact, except for random patches of scraggly weeds, he’d not seen any true grass like this. It reminded him somewhat of the lush hills of Ahlderon.