Ravenwild: Book 01 - Ravenwild (30 page)

“Step aside, Commander,” whispered one of the Trolls in the group. “I’ve been picking that same lock for years now to feed our boys when the food storage locker was locked and Malance Venomisis thought it would be fun to starve them. I’ll take care of it.”

While he went to work, Maxilius ordered Marcos and Dragor to cross back over the cavern and stand guard to make sure that those who might be pursuing them from behind would not flank them. Everyone else stood by while Stevaros worked the lock. Minutes went by as he struggled with the mechanism.

“It’s frozen up,” Doreen heard him mutter. Great beads of sweat covered his forehead. “This will take a bit longer.”

Maxilius Bravarus put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Finally, with a distinct click, the rusted tumblers fell into place, and not a moment too soon, because from across the cavern behind them there came the crash of swords. They had been discovered! Miraculously, there had been no shouting, only the ringing of the blades and the grunts of soldiers doing battle, and by the time the three remaining Trolls had crossed the cavern to aid their comrades they had already turned to rejoin the group, leaving three dead Trolls behind.

“Go, go, go,” hissed Maxilius Bravarus, as they all dashed through the doorway.

“Stevaros,” he said to the Troll whose locksmithing skills had gained them entrance to the castle sewers, “can you relock it in such a way that it cannot be opened again?”

“I can, Commander. But once I do it, we would not be able to pass this way again if ever we had to. Not without destroying the door and giving ourselves away.”

Maxilius Bravarus stroked his chin. “Do it,” he said. “And join us at the rendezvous point. You remember the way?”

“Yes, Commander. Consider it done.”

Doreen had been so caught up in the excitement of the moment that she had not noticed the fetid stench of the sewers through which they now ran wildly along. More than once she slipped and fell face down in the most disgusting filth imaginable, only to be yanked forcefully to her feet. She gagged and wretched almost continuously for several minutes, then her stomach settled down. The roof of their getaway tunnel started to angle sharply towards the floor, and they all crouched to avoid striking their heads on the ceiling. Soon, the Trolls were all crawling on all fours, but Doreen was spared for a while. In time, however, even she had to crawl when the Trolls were sliding on their bellies.

She heard a voice call out from the front. “We’re almost there. Soon the passageway will narrow and we will have to squeeze through. Beyond that it will open up into a pool. We will need to swim across it underwater. Hold onto the leg of the one in front of you. Do not let go and do not open your eyes or you will never see again. Come now. Hurry.”

Doreen did as she was told, passing easily through the opening and downward into the mucky fluid that clung to her like mucous. She forcefully blocked out any thought about what it was that she was swimming through and concentrated on her swimming strokes, which were limited to one arm and one leg. Just when she thought her lungs were going to explode she found herself angling upward and broke through the surface.

“Don’t open your eyes yet,” Maxilius Bravarus said sharply. “Take my hand.”

She reached out her hand and was led about fifty feet forward where she found herself under a freezing shower of fresh water.

As she rinsed her face, hair, and the rest of her clean of the filth of the castle sewers, she heard Maxilius Bravarus say, “This is a mountain stream that was diverted this way for the keepers of the sewers to wash with when they came in contact with the sewer’s contents. Hurry now. We have to make time.”

She was handed a bar of coarse soap. In a few minutes she was clean enough to move on. From here they made their way along several stone hallways that intertwined in a great labyrinth. All proceeded upwards at a steep angle. Several times they reached blind ends and were forced to turn back. It began to appear that they were never going to escape, that they would die a slow and painful death wandering aimlessly under Malance’s fortress.

But suddenly, they could see light, and Doreen swore she heard the nicker of a horse.

“We are there,” called out Maxilius Bravarus. “Now, we run.”

Rounding a bend Doreen spied Erik holding the reins of Spirit and Cloud. She had thought that there were going to be more horses. Nevertheless, she smiled when she saw him, but was surprised that he did not return it. Something was wrong. She knew it. She could feel it. The group raced forward, and she took the reins of Spirit from his hand, kissing him lightly on the cheek.

“Come now,” Maxilius Bravarus said. “Time to ride.”

“Where are
your
horses?” Doreen asked.

“Trolls don’t ride horses,” he said. “We eat them. We ride Lizardrulls, but there are precious few of those, and they are all far to the north. Have you ever seen a horse big enough to carry a Troll? No girl, we run. Don’t worry, a horse can outrun a Troll in the short run, but a Troll will outrun a horse every time in the long run. Mount up.”

She did, after a quick check of Spirit’s underbelly to make sure the girth was tight enough. A loose girth would be disastrous. She noticed Erik mounted slowly, deliberately, and that up to this point he had not spoken a single word, his face a blank. “What’s wrong?” she thought. “Something is definitely wrong.”

The reason for Erik's unease became apparent as soon as they exited the cavern at the base of the mountain upon which the great castle sat. Directly in front of them, not a hundred yards away, was an entire battalion of Troll soldiers, fully armed and ready to destroy them all if they proved foolish enough to try and fight their way through them. She looked at Maxilius Bravarus. He looked back at her. The expression on his face said it all. They were doomed. She looked at Erik. His blank look was unchanged. He had known all along what the end game would be about. She looked at the faces of each of the Troll solders in their small group who had risked so much. The horses pawed nervously and sidestepped. She looked at the terrifying horde of Trolls before them. The only clear pathway was straight ahead of them in the direction the castle’s main gate. She noticed that the wind whipped mightily in their faces. She spied a trail directly to their left that led not to the castle, but disappeared towards the far side of it somewhere up high in the distance. She whipped Spirit soundly on the rump and cried, “
Follow me
!”

Spirit charged up the trail. Erik spurred Cloud and raced after her. The doctor and their small band of Trolls ran after them and a roar erupted from the Troll battalion who dashed madly ahead to close the gap between them and give chase to this crazy band of marauders.

Ever upward they galloped, never looking back. By sheer luck the trail narrowed for them in several places, and the Maxilius loyalists took every advantage of this by slowing the charge of their pursuers who, despite their overwhelming numbers, were forced to advance in single file where they were held at bay by Doreen’s protectors, all of whom were superior fighters. Even higher Doreen and Erik raced, followed by the doctor, Daria, and Maxilius. With the horses nearly spent and fully lathered, they found themselves at the top of a great cliff. In front of them the Great Slovan Plains stretched as far as the eye could see. Behind them they could hear the clashing of the troops, punctuated by the screams of Trolls on both sides, some wounded, some dying. There was nowhere left to go. The wind blew even more violently now, causing them all to squint. Dust blew crazily all about. The horses whinnied, threatening to lose control, and Spirit reared, causing Doreen to nearly lose her seat.

“Erik,” she cried, “Those underwings. They’re working, right?”

“I think so,” he said. “They’re there, but I didn’t pack them. I hope so.”

“And can we each carry an extra?”

“I don’t know,” said Erik. “I don’t think it’s ever been tried. It’s a lot of weight.”

“Well, we’re going to try it now,” said Doreen. “Come, we need some sort of rope.”

They dismounted and quickly fashioned makeshift rope harnesses that they slung over the saddles, passing one to the doctor and one to Daria. Doreen looked at Maxilius Bravarus. Tears slid down her face.

“Don’t worry,” he said, “ I’m only too glad to die with my lads. It’s a soldier’s fate. And now that evil one who would call himself our Emperor will know that there are those of us who have had it with his monstrous ways, and
that
is worth dying for.”

He hugged his sister tightly as they whispered their private goodbyes.

And with that, they launched.

Doreen led the way, taking flight after a short gallop. Daria clung to her rope desperately with one hand, and to Spirit’s tail with the other. For a moment it appeared that they were going to be dashed to bits on the rocks below them, but Spirit gained control and, in the face of the brutal headwinds, they began to gain some altitude. Next came Erik and Cloud with the doctor hanging on for dear life. The same scenario played itself out, the doctor making a mighty leap right after Cloud took flight. Immediately, however, there was a problem, and Erik found himself plummeting downward at a fantastic speed. One of the underwings had fouled on their makeshift harness as it deployed, and right away they were in a death spiral. Doreen saw it and skillfully maneuvered Spirit over towards them, now in a wild dive herself with Daria holding on, her face a mask of terror. “Daria!” Doreen screamed. “Grab the end of the wing! Pull it out straight! It’s their only chance!”

Cloud came around in a twisting, winding curl, and Daria grabbed for the wing. She missed. Again they tried. Again they missed. Daria glanced at the rocks below that were screaming their way up at them, and knew they would only have one more chance. Here came Cloud, approaching wildly out of control, and this time she caught the wing in her hand. Doreen banked Spirit hard to the right, at just the right angle, and they moved away from the cliff face, allowing the wing to be successfully deployed. Cloud struggled greatly to gain control and finally did, now in hot pursuit of Doreen and Daria who were again cruising upwards, Doreen riding the winds like she had done it her whole life.

Off they soared, proceeding not only away from the castle and their would-be captors, but higher and higher in the sky until they were two tiny specks, barely visible.

“Well, all right,” murmured Maxilius Bravarus, as he walked slowly back down the trail with the intention of killing as many of Malance’s supporters as possible before he too had his meeting with the Old One.

Chapter 13

Blake awoke and right away knew something was wrong. There was no way Jessica would not have awakened him in four hours for his watch. There was no way she would have let him sleep until sunup, yet that is exactly what had happened, and she was not inside asleep as she should have been. He was frantic as he pulled on his cloak and readied his weapons. Still, he was cautious enough to slowly break cover of the great pine, and he peered about for a long time before he emerged. He quickly compartmentalized his attention into equal halves. One was completely devoted to following her trail away from their overnight camp. The other, to expanding his awareness of what, if anything, was happening around him.

He followed her tracks out to the windblown on which she had sat for several hours the night before. There were several sets of smaller ones that converged to where she had been seated and undoubtedly fallen asleep. He was all at once sick with anguish that he had let her take the first watch, yet at the same time he knew that there never was a choice in the matter when she set her mind to something. He found where somebody had tried to hastily cover the three sets of footprints in addition to hers that led away from their campsite. It was a crude attempt, and he hoped that somehow spoke to their overall woods skills. He would follow them of course and weak, not strong, foes were always preferable in wartime.

Cursing under his breath, he returned to their campsite in the huge pine. He wanted to see if Jessica had taken the small signet belt, as well as to be sure he was not leaving behind any of his newly acquired survival supplies and gear. Satisfied that she had indeed taken it, and that he had left nothing behind, he exited and returned to the trail they had left. Jessica’s were by far the largest of the tracks, so he had to presume that Gnomes had made the others. He could see how she was deliberately digging her foot in every once in a while to make it easier for him to follow. “Good girl,” he thought. “Hang on. I’m coming.”

He followed the tracks all day until the sun went down. He stopped earlier rather than later, fearing that if he kept on he would lose the trail completely and would have to rediscover it in the morning, wasting precious time. Besides, he needed to drink and eat some. For a brief moment he had felt terribly guilty about emptying their little campsite of all of the food stores in it. He knew he was violating a sacred woodsman’s code by basically stealing another’s supplies and therefore depriving their rightful owner of possible lifesaving nourishment. He grunted at the thought.

“Tough,” he thought. “I’ll replace them when we get our daughter back. Oh, and yes, after I first get my wife back.”

He chewed the meat slowly, trying to think of anything that might help him in his quest to rescue her. He couldn’t think of anything other than to wake up and continue to follow the trail in an attempt to catch up with them and then make a plan based upon the situation with which he was confronted. When you’re up to your butt in alligators is not the time to think about draining the swamp.