Gorgoroth (Haladras Trilogy Book 2)

by Michael Karr

  He listened intently. Voices. Men’s voices. Though, he couldn’t make out the words. They sounded casual, to match the unhurried pace of their march up the stairs. At least these men weren’t likely to expect an attack.

  The servant girl scrambled out of the hole. Like a wild animal, her hair splayed in out in all directions, she scurried to hide behind him.

  “Get out of here,” said Skylar in a hushed tone. “It’s not safe. Run! Hide!”

  The girl looked too petrified to move. She only stared at him with her unblinking gaze. Skylar returned his attention to the guards who would surely appear at any moment. He didn’t have time to deal with the girl.

  A spray of splinter burst across the floor as Endrick resumed chopping at the door.

  “C’mon, Endrick,” Skylar muttered between clenched teeth. “Chop faster.”

  He wasn’t about to abandon Endrick, whatever the cost.

  The chopping reverberated through the hall, drowning out the sound of the approaching soldiers. Would they hear the raucous and come charging up?

  He didn’t have to wonder long. For the next moment, three guards burst into the corridor from the stairwell. Not ready for an attack, their weapons were lowered. Skylar took aim at the lead soldier and fired. One of the bolts struck the soldier just below the collarbone, sending him to the floor. The other bolt flew wide of the two remaining soldiers.

  Fearing a second assault, the two uninjured guards took cover back in the stairwell. Skylar worked to reload his crossbow. Before he could even pull a second round of bolts from the attached quiver, one of the guards peeked around the corner and fired two shots at him. The shots struck the stone wall in front of him, showering his face with hot pellets.

  The harsh shriek and fiery blast were impossible to mistake. These soldiers were armed with blasters. His crossbow suddenly felt like a toy. He had to find cover, or he and the servant girl would be dead.

  Across the hall, part of a square column jutted out. It wouldn’t provide much cover, but more than what they had now. Grabbing the servant girl by the hand, he dashed to the column. They managed to make it without being fired upon.

  Once across, Skylar resumed his attempt to reload the crossbow. Though, he wondered now how much good it would do him. In that moment, he would have traded a hundred crossbows for a good teryleum shield from Haladras.

  Placing his foot in the cocking stirrup, he pulled the string back and carefully secured it behind the nut. Letting go of the string, he grabbed a bolt to slide into place. The deafening cry of blaster fire, a burst light, a sting of pain assaulted Skylar’s senses all at once. He cried out, clutched at this right hand as it seared with pain.

  The crossbow lay scattered across this floor in fragments of wood and iron, parts charred by the direct hit of the blaster.

  Skylar howled in pain.

  He clenched his teeth and forced himself to inspect his right hand, fearing the worst. The skin, from the ridge of his knuckles to his wrist was coated with blood. The initial sight of it gave him such a shock that had he not been pressed against the wall, he would have collapsed to the floor. His head felt dizzy.

  A tremendous crash filled his ears, drawing him partially out of his daze. He was aware enough to realize the sound had not been produced by blaster fire. He glanced back toward the door. Half of it, split vertically down the middle, lay on the stone floor amid a pile of splinters and wood chips. The other half of the door remained on its hinges, swung wide open. Endrick stood on the threshold, his face flushed, his hands clenching the axe handle.

  Endrick spotted Skylar standing behind the column. He rolled his eyes and his head in one exasperated movement.

  “You were supposed to run for it,” he said.

  Blaster fire struck the portion of the door still standing it its hinges. Endrick jumped back into the threshold to the chamber. Then he did something Skylar thought odd. Using his axe, Endrick lifted the blade just about the angle of his head. Then, left the blade fall. With a thud, the blade dove into the wood grain of the severed piece of door. The blade lodged there. Still perplexed, Skylar watched as Endrick hauled in the door, sliding it along the stone floor.

  Once the door was close enough, Endrick dislodged the axe, lifted the door to its full height, then dashed across the open corridor. A shield. Endrick had made a shield. As shoddy as it was, it proved effective. Blaster fire struck the door several times but did not penetrate the dense wood.

  “How many are there?” asked Endrick.

  “Two,” said Skylar.

  Endrick nodded, then noticed Skylar’s bloody hand.

  “I’ll be alright,” said Skylar, hoping it was true.

  “We have to make a run for it. I’ll keep the door between us and them. Just stay behind me.”

  They both looked over at the quivering servant girl. She nodded, showing some sign of comprehension. Then they started moving. The going was awkward for Endrick, who had to hold the door up, as he tried to jog backward down the hall. Skylar placed the servant girl between himself and Endrick, making sure the door stayed between them and the guards.

  Blaster fire continued assailing them, striking the door, the ceiling, the floor stones about their feet. The shrieks were loud enough to rattle anyone’s thinking.

  Skylar knew the guards wouldn’t hold their post forever. Maybe they were already on foot in pursuit. With a backward glance, Skylar looked for the end of the corridor, where it met with another at a corner. Some fifteen meters.

  “Come on,” he urged. “We’re almost there.”

  “By there, I hope you mean the castle’s emergency exit,” said Endrick over his shoulder.

  There was a noticeable lull in the blaster fire. A silence filled Skylar’s ears with ringing. Beyond the ringing, though, he heard the sound he feared. The guards were running toward them. Endrick apparently heard it too.

  “Run!”

  In that instant, Endrick lifted the door and hurled it down the hall at the advancing guards. Skylar didn’t wait to see what would happen. Taking the girl with his good hand, he turned and sprinted for the turn in the corridor. Behind him, he heard the door crash onto the floor. He kept running. They rounded the turn and found themselves in a significantly shorter corridor, but one that for the moment did not contain guards with blasters firing at them. But what he hoped to find he didn’t see.

  “Is there a stairwell near?” he shouted to the girl running behind him.

  “No,” was all she replied.

  He spotted a door which looked different from the others.

  “Over here,” he said.

  The girl made some kind of sound. Whether she was trying to tell him something or was just making noises, he didn’t have time to stop and find out. He opened the door and charged in. Just a few steps past the door and a wall barred their way. Behind them, Endrick rushed in and shut the door. The outside light from the hallway gone, they were plunged into darkness.

  “Where the blazes have you led us,” said Endrick, as loudly as he dared, “a closet?”

  “I thought it might be service passage,” said Skylar.

  He looked around, straining his eyes to pierce through the darkness. All he could make out were dark shadows.

  “This is a refuse disposal closet,” said the girl. Her voice was still trembling.

  “You mean, like a lavatory?” said Endrick.

  “It’s where I empty the…chamber pots.”

  “Lovely! Well, I’m sure those fellows who were shooting at us will respect our privacy—”

  “Where’s the opening to the disposal?” said Skylar suddenly.

  “Over here.”

  His eyes were slightly more adjusted to the darkness. He watched the girl’s shadowy form point toward the wall nearest to where she stood Shuffling around in the cramped space, doing his best to avoid pressing against the servant girl, he moved over to it.

  “Don’t tell me you have to go now,�
�� said Endrick.

  “No, but maybe…”

  Skylar let his words trailed off as he removed the covering for the disposal and inspected the diameter of the aperture.

  “Oof!” grunted Endrick. “Plug that thing up before we all suffocate.”

  “I think even you can fit through this,” said Skylar.

  “Through what?”

  “The disposal. We can shimmy down the shaft until we reach…”

  “Where all the waste goes,” finished Endrick wryly.

  “Do you have a better idea?” Skylar asked. “You can hear the guards checking the doors. They’ll open this one any moment. And then what?”

  “We die with some dignity.”

  “Fine. Stay and keep your dignity. I’m going down.”

  Skylar climbed onto the ledge surrounding the aperture, and sat down on it with his legs dangling down into the disposal shaft.

  “Follow me,” he said to the servant girl.

  Not waiting for a reply, or further protest from Endrick, he lowered himself into the shaft. This proved an awkward task. But once he moved his whole body below the lip of the aperture, he found it easier. The shaft was wide enough that he could press his knees against one side, and his back against the other. Pulling in his legs towards his chest slightly, he discovered he could slide down a few centimeters at a time. Not a brisk pace, but he was moving, and not falling.

  Above him, he heard shuffling as they climbed into the shaft. The movements sounded to delicate to be from Endrick. Silently, he prayed she wouldn’t fall on top of him while she tried to descend the shaft. He voiced a few words of instructions and encouragement up to her. It was impossible for him to tell if she understood, he couldn’t see her. It was utterly dark in the shaft.

  Skylar kept moving. What awaited them at the bottom of the shaft? Would there be anywhere to go, a way to get free? Though he’d spoken rashly to Endrick, he hoped he would come. As yet, he’d not heard sound any sound which told him Endrick was coming. He had better not be planning some heroic stand against the guards. Heroic and pointless. Endrick may have a dagger, but there were two guards, each with blasters.

  The next moment, he heard the grunts, groans, and under-the-breath curses of Endrick come echoing down the shaft.

  “Great Yurik, this is a tight hole!” Skylar heard the faint mutter reach him from up above.

  In spite of their dire plight, Skylar couldn’t help but smile to himself. What would he do if he lost his faithful companion?

  A second later, Skylar heard the lid to the disposal thump into place.

  They made their way down the shaft in relative silence. Time passed slowly. Skylar wondered how far they had gone. The muscles in his back and legs ached. His hand still stung with pain. In the darkness, he feared to touch it. He felt reasonably certain, however, that blood still trickled from the wound. How much blood had he lost?

  Suddenly, his leg slipped from its footing on the wall. The rest of body began to slide. As hard as he could, he pressed his other leg hard against the wall and arrested his fall. He paused and hung where he was, while his heart thundered in his chest. Securing his other foot back onto the shaft, he inspected the situation. The walls of the shaft broken away just below him. He hung on the lip.

  “Wait!” he shouted.

  “What is it this time?” came Endrick’s echoed voice from above.

  Skylar fought to move his body upward a few centimeters.

  “The shaft…” Skylar called back up, “the walls of it expand out...or…something. I can’t keep going without falling.”

  There was a pause.

  “I’d go down feet first, if I were you.”

  “You want me to just let myself fall into…into who-knows-what?”

  “I’m willing to push you if it helps.”

  Skylar peered down into the void. As if prolonged staring could allow him to penetrate the absolute darkness. It was futile, though. If he saw anything, it would only be his mind playing tricks on him. Endrick was right. There was really no recourse but allow himself to fall. Even with fresh limbs, he doubted he could climb all the way back up the shaft. And the servant girl? She’d never reach the top.

  The depth. If only he could estimate the depth.

  Then an idea struck him so forcefully, he wondered he hadn’t thought of it sooner. He did have a way to estimate have far down to the bottom. Endrick’s dagger. His own still lay concealed within the folds of his clock, which he thoughtlessly cast to the floor of Du Kava’s chamber.

  “Do you still have your dagger?” he called up the shaft.

  “Yes, but I’m using it to carve my eulogy into the stone, at the moment.”

  “Can you hand it to the girl? I need it.”

  Skylar heard a soft rustling sound.

  “Here,” grunted Endrick. “Don’t grab it too quickly! You’ll slice off my fingers.”

  A second later, the servant girl’s shaky voice said, “I have it. Can you reach it?”

  Skylar stretched out his hand timidly. The idea of grabbing a blade in the dark made him cringe. He already had one injured hand, he didn’t want another. After a moment, he felt the cold steel touch the back of his hand. Gently, he grabbed the blade.”

  “I’ve got it,” he said, and the girl released her grasp.

  Shifting the blade in his hand so that he held its handle, he prepared to drop it. With his ears fully tuned, he let it drop. Then he counted in his head.

  One…

  Thunk.

  Was that the dagger? The sound he heard was like a pebble hitting the surface of water. Scarcely a second had passed, though. Could the drop truly be so short?

  “What are you about down there?” came Endrick’s voice from above. “Unless you want me crashing down on top of you, I suggest you go ahead.”

  “Alright,” replied Skylar. “I’m jumping.”

  Despite the results of his experiment, he still didn’t feel confident that he wasn’t about to plunge to his death. What if the sound he’d heard emanated from some other source? The dagger might still be falling. Was there any conceivable way the shaft was that deep?

  Curse it!

  Letting his feet slip from the rough surface of the shaft wall, he let his body fall.

  His stomach lurched, just as his feet splashed down into unseen waters. Then his knees buckled, as his feet struck a solid surface beneath the water. He straightened, and found himself standing, water lapping midway up his calves.

  “Skylar?” came Endrick’s wary voice from above.

  “It’s alright,” said Skylar. “The drop is only a few meters. I landed in some water.”

  “I doubt that it’s water,” replied Endrick.

  “I’m going to try and move out of the way so that the two of you can drop down.”

  “It’s all the same to me.”

  Skylar groped in front of himself with his hands as he took a few tentative steps forward. Not meeting with any obstacle, he kept moving.

  “Go ahead,” he said, wishing he knew the name of the servant girl. There was a pause.

  “That’s you, darling,” said Endrick, impatiently.

  Something like a whimper mixed with a squeak came from the shaft. Then a splashing sound.

  Water sprayed Skylar’s upper leg. A few droplets managed to reach his face.

  “Are you hurt?” Skylar said, trying to reach for the girl in the darkness.

  “No…no,” she whimpered back.

  “Hold out your hand.”

  Finding her cold, damp hand, he gently pulled her out beside him, out of the way of where Endrick would land. Then he gave the signal to Endrick. Only a moment later, a tremendous splash rent the air, as a wave of water soaked the entire front of Skylar.

  Wiping his face with his hand, and shaking his arms, he vainly attempted to dry himself.

  “Were you trying to make as big a splash as you could?” he said. “Surely, every
one soul in the castle heard that.”

  “I slipped,” said Endrick. “Bleh! I think some it got in my mouth. I don’t even want to know what I’m sitting in. Smells like...er…never mind. Well, what now?”

  Endrick’s question gave voice to Skylar’s own thoughts. Based on his limited exploration, they were in some kind of cesspit. And it must have an outlet, somewhere. How large of an outlet, though? That was what really mattered. He told his idea to the others, and all three of them started hunting for a way out.

  “Because I’m sure,” added Endrick, “that they built a nice exit down here for anyone who happens to wander down this way.”

  While Endrick grumbled, Skylar put one hand against the wall he’d found and followed it. He took several paces to where he thought he ought to strike an adjacent wall. But there was none. Several more paces. A soft sound caught his attention, like the movement of air through a tube. He kept on. The sound grew louder.

  Suddenly, his hand met a wall, barring his way. Disappointed, he felt around its surface. Nothing. Just solid stone wall. Undeterred, though, he walked along this new wall. He expected within a few paces to meet with another wall, a dead end. Instead, he thought he saw something. Not his eyes painting abstract forms against the black canvas around him. No, this shape didn’t track where he gazed. It stayed fixed in one spot. A gray blot on a portion of the wall.

  He drew closer to it and tried to touch it. As he did, the shadow of his fingers silhouetted against the gray blot. A light! The gray blot was a light.

  Crouching low, he turned to the opposite side of the wall from the spot. And there he saw it.

  “Over here!” he called, his voice bouncing madly off the walls.

  “Over where?” echoed back Endrick’s voice.

  Skylar sighed and started backtracking his steps to where he’d left Endrick and the servant girl. Once closer, he was able to communicate more clearly with them, without the echoes muddling his location.