The Coastal Kingdoms of Olvion: Book Two of The Chronicles of Olvion (42 page)

The women looked around themselves.  The three slavers lie dead.  There was a strange silence in the cellar for thirty seconds.  Dwan broke it.

“Quickly now, drag them over behind the stairway.” 

When that was done they covered the bodies with one of the threadbare blankets they’d been given.

Dwan sought out the shorter woman.  She was surprised to realize how young she was.  She was now working on the lock on the cellar door.

“What do we do now?” Dwan asked.

The young woman looked at her and smiled.  “First, are you Dwan?”

Dwan nodded.

“I thought so.  Beautiful and tall.  I saw the way you handled that man.  The stories about you are all true.”  She turned her attention briefly back to the door.  She had evidently repaired the damage they’d caused by jimmying the thing, and now she relocked it from within.  She turned back to Dwan.  “Now, Healer Dwan, we wait until Tag-Gar, the Legend, comes to get us.”

Dwan’s heart jumped in her chest.  She did not know how to respond so she impulsively grabbed the smaller woman in a hug.  Toria was lifted off of her feet for a few seconds. 

When Dwan set her back down, she asked “He’s really back?”

The other woman came up behind Toria.  “Yes, Lady Dwan, he’s back, and he’s on the island with us.”

The shorter one nodded.  “And what we have to do is barricade ourselves in here until he arrives.  A battle for control of this island will begin shortly.  Whatever happens we can’t let them move you anywhere.”

***

Taggart saw Spall charge into a group of pirates who were rushing out from behind a catapult.  The courage of the smaller man was inspiring.  He rushed to help him.  The six pirates in the group were just starting to encircle the Archer’s Gate Sub-Commander when Taggart and Lyyl both jumped into the fray. Taggart smashed one pirate off to the side with a swipe of his mace.  He raised his armored forearm to catch a sword strike from another sentry and dropped his attacker with an overhand strike.

To his left Lyyl thrust with his sword and parried with his knife.  While Taggart was an instrument of power and weight, Lyyl was a study in elegance and speed.  His sword stabbed out numerous times, drawing pirate blood with each lunge.

Taggart heard a grunt of pain and looked over to see Spall falling from a spear attack to his back.  Both he and Lyyl leapt forward to place themselves between the remaining pirates and their fallen comrade.  The man who had stabbed Spall aimed another thrust at Lyyl’s abdomen.  The Aspell warrior countered with a swipe of his knife and a stab of his own.  Lyyl’s blade pieced the man just below his chin.  The pirate staggered backward and almost recovered before Lyyl delivered a second stroke to his chest.  The pirate fell, and Taggart toppled the last man with an unexpected front kick to the groin.  The power of the strike paralyzed the pirate until Taggart delivered a stomp to his ribcage.

Then the fighting was over.  Taggart looked around.  There had been no alarm from the bell.  Some of his men were down, but the element of surprise had worked well for them.

Lyyl called his name.  He looked to see that the young warrior was bent over Spall.  Blood soaked the ground beneath him.  Taggart knelt alongside.  Spall’s eyes were open, but he was not moving.  Lyyl looked at Taggart and shook his head. 

“This wasn’t even his fight,” Lyyl said.  “He was of Archer’s Gate, and the kidnapped women were all of Aspell except for your Dwan.”

Taggart reached over and gently closed the man’s eyes.  “He made it his fight when his kingdom became our allies.  He was a good commander and a good man.  He will be missed.”

They left Spall’s body with other Archer’s Gate warriors.  Taggart took stock of the cost of their victory.  Besides Spall they had four other dead and six wounded, two seriously.  He heard his name being called and saw Geraar beckoning him over to the alarm bell.

Taggart walked over to where the younger man stood, dreading what he would find there.  Geraar pointed with his sword.  On the ground lay Markex.  His body bore several mortal wounds.  Around the knifeman were six dead pirates.  “It looks like he silenced the alarm sentry then kept those others from reaching the bell.”  The young warrior shook his head.  “An amazing feat when you consider all he had was his knife.”

Taggart folded the dead warrior’s arms across his chest and put his knife under his hands.  “Make certain that his knife is buried with him.”

Before the attack, Taggart had left Tinker in the brush beside the clearing in which the catapults were located.  Now he whistled, and she came scampering up to him with her travel sling in her mouth.  He could feel the concern for her mate emanating from her.  He stroked her head and back to comfort her then placed her in the sling.

Taggart finished directing the removal of the bodies from the harbor defense site.  Then he and the others sliced ropes and chopped structures so that the catapults and trebuchets were temporarily inoperable.  With the harbor defenses neutralized, he left the remainder of the ambush force to guard the place and called for Geraar and Lyyl.  When the two younger men joined him he put a hand on each of their shoulders.  “Let’s go get our women!”

Jo-Dal looked back over his shoulder.  He saw only trees and hills.  The Aspell Commander was hidden in a shallow ditch that was located three hundred yards from the edges of the town of Kylee.  Concealed from view in the topography behind him were almost a thousand warriors from Aspell, Archer’s Gate and Olvion.  That Jo-Dal could not see any of them was a testament to their professionalism. 

From his hiding place Jo-Dal could see the approach to the harbor.  When Fauwler’s fleet approached he would order the attack on the town.  As always, the most difficult part to any warrior was the waiting.

Several times citizens of Kylee would come close to their positions.  The town was just waking up, and a few had business out in the higher elevations where the warriors were hidden.  So far they had not been seen.

Jo-Dal took another look toward the harbor.  A light fog was concealing most of the view seaward.  That could be good and bad.  It could be good because the approach of the invasion fleet would be concealed until the last moments, delaying any organized resistance.  It could be bad because it may be just heavy enough to prevent the fleet from navigating the harbor approach safely.  Jo-Dal smiled to himself.  It was up to the stars now.  Worrying could accomplish absolutely nothing.

The Commander tried to see the bluffs in which the harbor defenses were emplaced, but they were concealed by trees.  He didn’t know that the attack had been successful, but, so far at least, they had heard no alarm bells.

The sun was steadily rising from the sea horizon, and the brighter light made concealing such a large number of warriors more difficult.  Jo-Dal searched the sea again but saw nothing.  The fog was still hanging low over the water.

***

Taggart and his two companions slipped from hiding place to hiding place as they navigated the descent from the bluffs to the town.  The sun was rising now so it was becoming increasingly difficult to stay hidden.  So far there had been none of the sounds that signaled the start of combat within the town.  Taggart knew those sounds only too well.

The pain from the stab wound in his back throbbed, but he ignored it.  Thanks to the intervention of his young friend the dagger had penetrated only a few inches.  One of the warriors who was cross-trained as a healer had dressed the wound, and the bleeding had slowed to a trickle.  He had endured worse.

He looked back at his young friends.  The look of determination on their faces encouraged him.  He had decided on taking only these two because he had taken their measure in combat and deemed both to be worthy of his trust.  By keeping their numbers small he hoped to more easily slip into the town unnoticed.  So much was counting on his decision.  He prayed he had chosen correctly.

The trees and small hills grew less common the closer they got to Kylee.  On one occasion they had to hide when a young man passed them herding a bunch of small goat-like creatures out of town.  Several times they found themselves on elevated patches of land and looked to sea, searching for signs of the fleet.  So far the morning fog was concealing much of the view.  Taggart feared that they would eventually be forced to launch a single-pronged attack if the day stretched on much longer with no sign of Fauwler.  That tactic would have less chance of success, but the die was cast now, they were not leaving without their citizens.

***

Captain Tallun was watching the seas.  The morning tide was swelling the water level, it would soon be time to set sail.  He looked back at the wide street which led from the town to the waterfront.  He was irritated. That idiot Morlee should have been here by now.  Tallun suspected that he should have replaced the slaver after the disaster at the auction.  His savage beating of the tall woman had made it necessary to move the slaves out of Kylee.  It would have been much less expensive to market the women here on the island.  It appeared that the citizens, at least a large number of them, had no stomach for the common methods used to control slaves. 

The idea to allow slaving had been Tallun’s.  He sold it to the council as a means to prop up their sagging economy.  The new members of the council, hand-picked by Lampte and himself, were more than eager to increase their personal treasuries.  They all expected an immediate acceptance of the change in policy.  The resistance of such a large number of citizens to the capture and sale of slaves had been a surprise, but they were not worried.  The women would bring a higher price offshore anyway, and they would have no citizens expressing their displeasure.

With a snort of disgust he checked the height of the sun.  It was getting too late for comfort.  If he delayed much longer he would miss the tide. 

With shouts and orders he gathered a group of eight crewmen behind him and started out for the city.  His intentions were to dismiss Morlee and his two helpers then herd the women captives to the ship in time for a successful departure before losing the benefit of the tide. 

***

Toria and Dwan organized the women in the cellar.  They had discovered that the door leading to the house above them was unlocked.  They sent five of the women upstairs to search for weapons.  As women of Olvion they were not content to sit by demurely as their men fought the battle to come.  They would assist in their own rescue as much as humanly possible.

The search party had found only a few kitchen knives.  They returned to the cellar, and the door was barricaded from within using chairs and divans from below.  Several wooden benches were now stacked and wedged up against the other door that led from the cellar into the alley.

In between all of the activity Dwan solicited information on Taggart from the younger woman.  She was curious as to the time and manner of his arrival back in Olvion.  She was delighted to hear that he had made contact with Queen Meena and Vynn.  The decision by the pirate Fauwler had been an enormous surprise.  She realized that, without the pirate captain’s assistance, no rescue would have ever materialized.

“Is he well?” she asked Toria.

“Well?  Dwan, he is the most ‘well’ person I’ve ever seen.  He is strong enough to push over trees should he desire to do so.”

Dwan laughed.  “And this Mountain Child with which you travel.”  She pointed to where Pan sat on Toria’s shoulder.  “How did you come to find him?”

“I did not find him, he found me.  Tag has reunited with Tinker.  Pan here is her mate.  For some reason he has bonded to me in the same manner as Tinker bonds with Tag.”

Dwan reached out and used one finger to stroke the nape of the beautiful animal.  Pan closed his eyes and trilled.  It was an act that she had frequently shared with Tinker.

“Anyway,” Toria said, “The hope is that Tag will use Tinker to find Pan by using their abilities to detect each other’s presence.  Once he gets here we’ll be safe enough.  Then, when it’s all over, and the city is ours, Captain Fauwler will have one of his ships take us back home.”

Dwan looked closely at the young woman and the other rescuer who was helping to fortify the doors.  “I hope you’ll forgive my observation, but you and your friend are so young.  Your courage is obvious, but I’m surprised that only the two warriors were sent to find us.”

“There was not much choice in the matter.  The male warriors with whom we travel are so unlike the pirates in appearance that they would almost certainly raise suspicions.  Tay and I volunteered.  Besides, only Pan or Tinker would have been able to locate you.  Tay is the only warrior.  I am just a farm girl.”

Dwan smiled.  “You are many things, Toria, but you are not
just
a farm girl.”

***

Fauwler sat in the cottage on top of the hill overlooking the harbor.  The smell of fish and cabbage hung heavy in the room.  The cottage belonged to Baynor and his woman.  The view from the seaward window was still obscured by the low morning fog even though the sun above it shined cheerfully into the room.

Fauwler looked around the small front room.  He and Mal had spent the night sleeping on the floor.  They had only a little time for sleep because most of the evening had been spent contacting the Kylee citizens whom Fauwler knew were sympathetic to his belief in the need for change in government and policies.  Now, as he sat and watched for signs of his fleet to arrive he worried that word would find its way to Lampte and the other new members of the Council of Captains.

Mal, Fauwler and Baynor had split up and sought out like-minded friends.  Between them they had contacted many people, and those people had contacted many more.  Fauwler had urged caution, however, he knew how easy it would be for someone’s position to be misjudged.  Now the plan was in motion.  They would succeed or they would die, it was that simple.

For the hundredth time Fauwler checked the sea.  He saw a smudge in the fog.  He raised up out of his chair, spilling his tea that rested in a mug on the table.  The smudge grew more solid and several more smudges appeared alongside it.  Then, the smudge took on the form of an unfurled sail.  The body of the vessel materialized beneath it.  More ships plowed through the mist heading directly for the harbor entrance.

Fauwler turned to his friends.  “It is afoot.”  He strapped his sword belt around his waist and walked through the door into the salty air of Kylee.

***

Taggart and his two warrior companions heard a shout.  Over their shoulders they saw a thousand well-armed warriors rise up from the concealment of the forested landscape.  Jo-Dal had seen the fleet sailing for the harbor and had signaled the attack.  Taggart looked at Lyyl and Geraar.  “Stay close!”

***

The wave of armed warriors advanced on the town in their customary slow jog.  The tactic had proven itself to be an effective way to eat up distance quickly while still maintaining military discipline.  Halfway to the town they emerged from the forest onto a packed-dirt road leading directly into the town. They immediately spotted some thirty armed men heading out of Kylee toward them.  The group were replacements for the night watch at the harbor defenses.  When the pirates saw the huge force of armed warriors they wisely turned and ran back into Kylee while shouting out the alarm.

Jo-Dal signaled for an increase in speed.  The retreating pirates reached the edge of town a scant two minutes before the invading warriors.  They had separated and were spreading the alarm in different directions.  Townspeople were stumbling out into the streets wiping sleep from their eyes and trying to determine the reason for the noise.  Some were already arming themselves.  Others gathered their families and herded them back inside their homes.

At the Hall of the Council of Captains, Lampte, who had a set of apartments within the building, was getting dressed when he heard the noise blaring through his opened shutters.  He crossed the room and listened.  Bells were ringing, and gongs were being beaten.  The Governor of the council was mystified.  The strategically placed alarms were only to be sounded in the event of an attack on the island.  Such a thing had not happened in many summers.  He almost turned away from the window before a sight caught his eye.  Hundreds of armed soldiers were flowing into the landward side of the town.  He stood mystified for several seconds, refusing to believe what his eyes were telling him. 
From the land side?  That way was protected by an unscaleable cliff wall and an impassable swamp.  For an army to have gotten through to them was unthinkable.

The Governor of the Council of Captains grabbed his sword belt and went running through the hall shouting for his aides to rouse the town guard.  That body was composed of thousands of pirates loyal to the new council regime.

When Taggart saw the main body of attackers rise up and advance on the town he increased his speed and made for the opposite end of town.  From Pan’s earlier description he knew that the slave quarters were in that direction.  However, that was all that he knew at that moment.  He was going to have to depend on the abilities of Pan and Tinker to find each other psychically in a huge town.  As he ran, Tinker crawled from her travel sling and climbed to his shoulder, both hands now holding onto a lock of his long blonde hair for balance.  It was her favorite perch.  She may have appeared to be simply riding his shoulder, but in truth she was casting about with her mind trying to catch the mindscent of her mate.  The large number of buildings in Kylee was not helping her ability to locate him.

When Taggart turned onto a side street which led near to the seaside he was confronted by a dozen pirates who had armed themselves and were running to join the others in forming a resistance.  Taggart slowed as did Lyyl and Geraar behind him.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone,” Taggart shouted.  “We are here to take back our women, women whom your new council enslaved and brought here against their will.  If they are surrendered no one needs to die.”

He had hoped that this group was representative of that segment of the population which opposed slavery and the direction taken by the new Council.

“You’re wrong, Mate,” one of them, a large man with many jewels set in his ears yelled.  “You need to die.”

Taggart had no time to argue or try to convince them to withdraw.  He raised his mace over his head and charged.  Lyyl and Geraar followed on either flank.

When Taggart drew closer the group got their first real look at his size.  Two of their number turned and fled.  Some of the others appeared to be confused as to what was their best course of action.  The pirate who issued the threat was no coward even if he was on the wrong side.  He hefted a two-headed battle axe and raced forward.  Taggart batted away the axe with a backhanded swing of the mace.  The weapon flew from the hands of the pirate.  He had just a fraction of a second to expect death, and he faced it in a masculine way.  However, Taggart saw no need to kill the man now that he’d been disarmed.  Instead he threw a left hook to the pirate’s side.  He crumpled over and dropped, totally unconscious.  He would awaken with a few busted ribs, but he
would
awaken.