Ravenwild: Book 01 - Ravenwild (19 page)

“We will all three take one boat,” called out Rolan. “The going will be rough for the first several minutes, but don’t worry, I can handle it myself. Still, it would be helpful if each of you could man a bracing stick to fend us off of obstructions.”

Another minute passed.

They burst into a chamber that was as dark as a moonless night in a cave, which suddenly flared to brilliance as they entered.

The smell of the mist became a stench. It was a stench that Blake recognized immediately, having spent his last ten years in the trenches as an Emergency Room physician. It was the stench of blood, lots of blood.

Out of the blindness of the sudden illumination rushed their attackers, four of them, howling with the anticipation of an easy victory.

The three of them formed a tight circle, their backs together, and prepared to do battle. The whole point now was to cut. To kill. But the cuts had to be set up with feints, and parries, and strokes designed to appraise the swordsmanship of their opponents. Blake and Jessica had done this a thousand times before, not only in the actual fighting arenas across the country, but watching tape. Hundreds of hours spent studying tactics.

The eyes of the Trolls gleamed like lava in the light of the cave. The largest came at Blake, the next largest at Rolan, and Jessica was left with the two smallest to contend with. She noticed immediately that they did not fight together, but seemed to be getting in each other’s way. She moved slightly to put the one in front of the other and quickly dispatched the first with a straight lunge to the chest when he swung his sword too wide on an attack stroke, then shoved him forcefully backwards with her left hand, causing the second to stumble. Seeing her opportunity, she quickly changed her sword to her left hand and struck a critical blow to the neck of the second on a vicious downward swing.

Having taken care of her two attackers, she moved to help Blake, who was barely holding his own with the largest one. With her sword still in her left hand, rather than prove a hindrance in the battle her husband was waging, she dropped low and severed the Achilles tendon of the beast. Down he went with a great howl, just as Rolan pinned his with a mighty lunge straight to the abdomen, driving his blade all the way through him and into the very stone of the wall of the cavern. The hamstrung Troll scurried backwards, and it was then that she made a terrible mistake. She took her eyes off of him to see if Blake was all right. “Watch it!” he called, and threw his blade, deflecting the deadly crossbolt that the wounded Troll had managed to get off. There was a slight ping as the bolt struck the hurled sword and ricocheted harmlessly upwards, and a mild thunk as one of Rolan’s daggers buried itself in his neck. He went limp on the floor, and his eyes dulled.

“To the boats!” commanded Rolan. “There will be more.”

They launched one of the small boats into the raging waters. It was all they could do to sheath their weapons and man the large push poles, which they used to fend off the angry rocks that threatened to capsize them every few feet as they careened wildly on their way. The wind howled mightily and the waves attacked them incessantly but, true to his word, Rolan guided them skillfully on their way towards safety.

The last thing they saw as they exited the cavern was the fierce redness of the eyes of a dozen Trolls as they screamed in fury and waved their huge swords and battle-axes over their heads. A few crossbolts whizzed past, but none struck true. For the moment, they had won.

“Are you watching this?” Mark whispered to Ryan.

“We have to go help him,” said Ryan. “If we don’t, Orie is toast.”

“No way,” said Mark. “We need to
get
some help. Officer Corey’s house is two houses down from the end of Mr. Strong’s driveway. We need weapons, man. What are
we
going to do against that thing?”

“You may be right,” said Ryan. “Okay, you get to Officer Corey’s house. Make sure you get back beyond the curve in the driveway and then book it, man. Orie needs help. Now.”

Mark eased away from their hiding place.

Ryan held fast. There was no way he was going to leave his friend. Never happen.

“Come out of the truck,” said Minos. “I mean you no harm. Your entire family is going to die unless you let me help you, and your two friends, and countless others. I could have killed all of you with no more effort than it would take to swat a fly. You need me. I need you. It’s as simple as that. I’ll meet you in your living room. You can run away if you want. I will not chase you, but I promise you we will meet again. I am not your enemy, Orie. Time is your enemy. Time that neither your father, nor your mother, nor Stephanie has right now. Your choice.”

And with that, he backed slowly away from the door of the truck, which opened on its own, and Orie felt a slight, strange force moving him in the direction of the now open door.

Minos Arterios climbed slowly up the stairs. He was slightly stooped, almost as though a great weariness was weighing down his enormous frame. The deck groaned loudly under his weight as he crossed it, and he went in the door, closing it softly behind him.

“Ryan!” Orie called out. “Mark!”

“Here,” called Ryan.

“Where’s Mark?”

“He went to Officer Corey’s house to get help.”

“This guy told me he wanted to meet me in the house. He told me he won’t hurt us, that he wants to help us.”

“I know. I heard everything.”

Orie had no idea what to do. This was all too strange. The night was loud with the croaking of the bullfrogs, and insects buzzed noisily about. Except for the bizarreness of all that was unfolding, it was a beautiful early-autumn night.

He made a decision. He climbed out of the truck and shut the door. “C’mon up,” he called to Ryan, who stood up and walked slowly over to join his friend.

“Are you all right?” asked Ryan.

“Fine.”

“What are we going to do?”

“I don’t think we have a choice right now. We have to go meet this guy.”

So up the stairs they went, cautiously, peering all about, as they proceeded to go and meet the scariest thing that either of them had ever seen in their young lives.

Their faces white with fear, they paused at the door. They made eye contact. Orie simply nodded, and in they went.

Sitting on the couch was a huge man, dressed in an imposing black robe, the hood of which covered most of his face. In front of him on a coffee table was an old newspaper, opened, which he seemed to be reading. Beside him was Mark. He looked frightened, but unharmed.

“Mark!” cried Orie. “Are you okay?”

“I’m good,” he answered. “I was running up to Officer Corey’s house … and then I was here. What’s going on, man?”

“I have no idea,” said Orie, “but I think we’re about to find out.”

Chapter 10

Stephanie kept her eyes shut as the Troll nursemaid turned her on her left side and gently but firmly scrubbed her backside with warm water and soap. Having cleaned up the mess, she turned her back and dressed her in her clothes, which too had been scrubbed clean.

The doctor entered. “Any progress?” he asked.

“Only that she seems to startle when there is a loud noise. She still soils herself, as you can see.”

She bundled up the dirty linen and went off to launder it.

“Is there any chance she is aware of her surroundings yet?” he asked, before she left the room.

The nursemaid paused and wrinkled her nose. “I can’t believe that she would lie there in her own waste if she was,” she said. “A young girl, especially a young Human girl, would never submit to such a thing if she were aware of what was going on.”

“You are probably right,” said the doctor. “You are probably right.”

Alone with his patient, the doctor stroked her hair. There was kindness in his touch. There was also kindness in his voice, Stephanie decided, as she feigned unresponsiveness.

“My poor child,” he murmured. “I don’t know how you ended up with us, but I swear I will do everything in my power to make things right for you. You don’t deserve this … I don’t deserve this.”

He reached into his pocket and withdrew the necklace that she had worn ever since she was eight. It was adorned with a striking, heart-shaped, synthetic ruby that was inset with a golden Caduceus, the universal symbol of medicine and healing. Her mother and father had given it to her, and a matching one to Jacqueline, for a Valentine's Day present. She had always loved it, and since it stood for her parents, both physicians, she had never once taken it off. He gently kissed it, placing it carefully around her neck. Then he stood and moved away.

He had no sooner left the room than he encountered none other than Malance Venomisis, Lord of the Trolls. High leader. He was dressed in a pale robe that looked almost dress-like. With a sneer, he greeted the doctor.

“Has she awakened?”

“Not yet, Sire. But she
is
becoming more responsive. She now startles with loud noises. Any day now. Any day.”

“You have two. Two more days and we boil her. If she is awake enough to startle, perhaps she is awake enough to scream. The troops grow restless. They need some diversion. Watching the young Prince squirm should entertain them. Two days.”

He turned and left.

The doctor decided to return to the bedside of his charge. He had been going to make inquiry with a circle of trusted contacts to see if he might come up with any ideas that might help him awaken her. In his former life he had had quite a lot of experience with comatose patients and their awakening, and he knew that constant stimulation with information that the patient could be expected to recognize, such as the voices of loved ones, news about home, and the like, could be helpful. He desperately wanted to awaken this girl. In fact he was determined to, but not for the malicious design of this sick and twisted Emperor. No, he had quite another plan in mind.

He sat down beside her. Again he commenced stroking her hair. “You must wake up Stephanie. You must. I can help you. I
will
help you.”

He stopped stroking her hair and slapped her hard across the face. It hurt badly. He struck her again, and again. He was about to strike her a fourth time when the nursemaid reentered the room. She dropped the basket of fresh linens she was carrying and rushed to the bedside.

“What are you doing, Doctor?” she asked. He raised his hand to slap her again and the nursemaid intervened. “That’s enough!” she snapped. “What in the name of the Agden Woods are you doing that for?”

Stephanie was terribly glad that the nursemaid had decided to jump in. Her face stung like a thousand hornets had bitten her. Tears slid down both cheeks.

“Daria,” said the doctor, “I mean this girl no harm. But I must awaken her. I must. Malance Venomisis plans to boil her in oil in front of the young Prince of Ravenwild to watch him squirm. And to provide some sort of sick entertainment for the troops quartered here at the castle.” He paused to gather his thoughts.

More than anything, he wanted to include Daria in his plan. More than anything, he wanted to be able to trust her. Not to mention that, were she a willing participant, it improved the chances for success a thousandfold. He rubbed his chin and pursed his lips as he mulled it over.

Daria broke the momentary silence. “That is despicable,” she said. “How could anyone even think of doing such a thing to an innocent young girl? It is a terrible age we live in. Terrible.” She sat down on a nearby bench, first picking up then setting down her basket of linens beside her.

“I can’t imagine it was always this way. The old ones make mention of the fact that there was a time long ago when all of the races got along. When we lived peacefully with each other. But now all there seems to be is killing, and killing, and more killing.”

“Well, Daria, I will tell you, I have made up my mind that I’m going to do everything in my power to stop the killing as far as this girl goes.”

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean is, well, I’m going to try and escape with her. There. Now I’ve said it. I’m going to try and get her back to her homeland. She’s far too young to have done anything serious enough to warrant being boiled in oil for the sick amusement of the depraved mind of Malance Venomisis.” He spat out the name of the Troll leader as if it were a poison in his mouth.