The Lodestone Trilogy (Limited Edition) (The Lodestone Series) (17 page)

“Certainly,” Alondo confirmed.

Lyall lay down under the awning. Alondo watched as his breathing became slow and even.

I hope this is one battle you win. For Shann’s sake.

~

As soon as Shann returned to the enclosure, it was evident that something was wrong.

A group of four tributes, one of whom was the boy who had first approached her, pulled the ore cart across the sand like beasts of burden,. The cart had sleds, but was still apt to get bogged down on occasion, causing them to have to strain every muscle. The haul was poor, which made their task a little easier but also put the guard in a foul mood. As soon as any one of the four stumbled, they found themselves on the receiving end of a swift kick.

Shann trailed behind with the group of two dozen others. Two other ore carts stood out of the way, beyond the gate, signalling that two identical parties had already returned. As they passed the guardhouse, Shann saw a group of four soldiers in iron studded leather armour crossing the yard. Then two more. Then coming round the corner of a building, a dark cloaked figure. No, it couldn’t be.
A Keltar.
What were they doing here?

She continued with the group of tributes as they walked towards the hut where they were sequestered. There was a sound from behind her. She turned to see two more Keltar coming out of the guardhouse, accompanied by more soldiers. Shann felt a rising sense of panic. Lyall had assured her that there were only ever a few soldiers on guard at the compound at any one time.
What was going on?

She caught Leskin’s eye. The old man looked at her but said nothing. They were herded inside their hut, and the guard bolted the door from the outside. A rough wooden construct, it was lined with pallets. Tributes sat or collapsed, exhausted. There were no windows. The last light of evening was filtering through a small iron grille set in the door.

The boy, who Shann had learned was called Roanol, came up and offered her an earthenware cup of water. “Lock down,” he explained. “They must suspect that something’s up.”

But how was that possible, she puzzled? It had to be some sort of co-incidence. Then a horrible thought struck her.
Lyall and Alondo–maybe they have been caught?
No, they wouldn’t have revealed everything in that short a time. And why would there be a need for extra precautions if they knew the plan had been foiled? Besides, where had all of these Keltar suddenly sprung from? There was clearly something very odd going on.

Whatever it was, it was obvious that the plan Lyall had so carefully formulated was now dead in the water. There was no way the tributes could stage a break out; it would be suicide. And with the increased presence, any frontal assault would similarly be doomed to failure. She had to warn them somehow. “Roanol, I have to get out of here.”

His eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

“I have to get out of here. If Lyall and Alondo go through with the plan, it will be a disaster.”

Roanol had kind face, despite his starved appearance. His sandy forelock had a habit of falling over his eyes in a way that was at once amusing and endearing. In different circumstances, she would have been thinking of ways to get to know him better.

He shook his head. “That’s impossible. We are shut in and there are guards outside the door.”

Shann bit her lower lip. “I have to find a way, or they will be dead.”

“Shann, I just don’t know–”

Leskin walked up to the pair. The olive skin covering his face was like old leather. He addressed Shann. “The plan is off,” he informed her.

“What’s going on? What are all these soldiers and Keltar doing here?” she demanded.

“I have no idea, but it doesn’t matter. Even assuming we could somehow get out of here, we couldn’t possibly take on that many guards in the enclosure, let alone Keltar as well. I’m sorry, Shann.”

“I realise that.” Shann’s hazel eyes blazed with determination, “but Lyall and Alondo are going to come charging through the front gate at first light tomorrow. I have to get word to them somehow.”

Leskin met her gaze firmly. “I want to help them too, but not if it puts the lives of everyone here at risk.”

“What if,” Roanol interposed, “we were to watch for an opening to try and get Shann out? This emergency, whatever it is, can’t last forever. There might be a way for her to slip away unnoticed.”

Leskin considered this. “All right, we’ll try it. But for now, the place is crawling with Keltar. All we can do is get some rest and see what happens.”

“But–” Shann began.

“I’m sorry, but that’s the best we can do,” The old man’s voice was final. He turned around and walked away. Shann stared after him.

“Don’t blame Leskin.” Roanol’s fringe fell over his eyes once again. He brushed it back. “He’s just trying to watch out for us all.”

“I know that.” Shann exhaled. “But I still need to get away.” Then a thought occurred to her. She looked up at him and heard herself say, “Come with me.”

Roanol regarded her for a moment. “You mean, escape?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I am known, Shann. If I disappeared, it would be noticed. Others would be interrogated–tortured, to find out how it happened and who had assisted me. No, Leskin was right about one thing. The fates of all of us here are linked. If we are to escape, it can only be together.”

Shann bowed her head; then looked up into his eyes again. “I don’t know what’s gone wrong, but I…we
will
get you out of this place.”

He smiled, reminding her strongly of Lyall once again. “Yes, Shann, I believe that you will.”

~

That night Shann tossed and turned as she lay on the hard wooden pallet. Her uncontrolled imagination explored every possible scenario of what might happen to Lyall and Alondo. Nearly all of them ended badly.
I have to find a way out of here, with or without Leskin’s help.
She went over in her mind what she had seen of the enclosure. If she had the flying cloak, she could have leaped over the palisade easily. However, there
was
still a chance–if the two guards were out of the way.

She was wide awake when she heard a loud commotion. Dawn had broken. She rose quietly. Several of the others were up. She recognised Leskin and Roanol in the half-light. Roanol peered through the grille in the door, looking to left and right. “The guards–they’re gone,” he reported. “It looks like some sort of disturbance at the guardhouse.”

It’s begun.
She thrust away the anxieties of the past few hours and started to think. There were no guards in evidence. This was her chance. She went to the pallet, and started pulling at the wooden slats. They were old and worn, and it was not long before one of them came away from its crosspiece. She broke it off, quickly bundling it up into the thin blanket. Then she returned to where the knot of people was crowded around the door.

She moved forward, touching Roanol lightly on the arm. “Excuse me.”

He moved to let her through and she placed her bundle down on the floor. She had to stand on tiptoe to see clearly through the grille. She checked the position of the sliding bolt on the outside of the door. Then she reached inside her tunic and brought out a smooth black stone. The others standing around, registered surprise. She pressed the stone against the wall to the right of the door and moved it slowly towards the bolt. It seemed to slide over the surface without making contact. She heard a sound–iron scraping against iron. She moved the stone back and towards the bolt again, and then a third time. Finally the bolt was pushed far enough back and the door cracked open.

She opened the door another fraction and scanned the yard. It seemed clear. She picked up her bundle and turned back to see the group of despairing, half starved people. Leskin was looking at her with a strange expression.
Pride?
Roanol stood behind him. He looked like a lost gundir pup. “Stay alive,” she urged. “We will be back for you all.”

Reluctantly, she closed the door and bolted it from the outside. She could hear raised voices coming from the direction of the gate. Two soldiers appeared from the side of an adjacent building. Shann swiftly moved around to the opposite side of the hut and pressed herself flat against the wall. The wall faced east, and Ail-Gan was still low on the western horizon, placing her in dark shadow. The soldiers seemed preoccupied in conversation. They walked past without looking in her direction. Shann allowed herself to breathe once more.

She heard a shout and the sound of running boots on hard packed sand. She had to find somewhere to lay low until the ruckus calmed down. The enclosure consisted of a collection of low, featureless wooden huts. There were no convenient crates or cubby-holes to provide cover. She could feel a sense of desperation welling up. Then the idea hit like a slap in the face.
The ore carts.

If the tributes were locked down, then the carts would not be in use. No-one would have a reason to look in them. She should be safe there, at least for a while.

She could not see them from her current position, but she had noticed them on her way in. She edged around to the back of the hut, which was still in shadow. There was a hut adjacent to this one and then another farther on. They all held tributes and were presumably locked down in the same way hers had been. The adjacent gaps lay in open sunlight but if she dashed between them, she could get to the other side of the enclosure, near where the ore carts were parked. She glanced around the first corner. There was no-one in sight. Clutching her bundle, she darted across the sunlit yard. Ail-Gan hung in the sky as if it were looking for an opportunity to betray her. She reached the back of the next hut, and pressed herself against the wall as before, breathing hard in the shadows.

So far, so good.
She crept along the wall and spied round the next corner. Again the view was clear. She tensed and began her charge across the open space. At that moment, two soldiers, a man and a woman, came into view. Shann careened to a halt and scurried back into the shadows.

“What was that?” It was a male voice. Shann’s heart sank. She had been seen.

“What was what?” the female responded.

“Something moved over there.”

“Where?”

“There, near the tributes’ hut.”

The woman snorted. “You’re seeing things.” Then she added, “Still, I suppose I can’t blame you, after the business at the guardhouse this morning.”

The man sounded distracted. “Six of our troops and a Keltar, all taken out. How could it happen?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll tell you this; when Ferenek finds those responsible, he’ll have them strung up by their boot heels.”

Shann’s heart quickened as the news sank in. The guardhouse had been attacked, but no-one knew by whom. That meant that Lyall and Alondo were…
alive.
Maybe they had halted the attack and escaped when they realised there were too many soldiers at the compound? Or maybe someone else had tipped them off? Right now, she didn’t care. Somehow they were alive. She was going to escape to join them, come what may.
And
then we come back here and free Roanol and the others.
Renewed hope surged through her.

The man spoke again. “I’m going to take a look.”

Shann moved like a flash around to the side of the building and hunkered down in the shade. The crunch of two sets of boots in the sand.
Coming closer.
She drew back further and shut her eyes as if the act would somehow render her invisible.

“Satisfied?” It was the woman’s voice. “Come on.”

“I suppose.” The man let out a sigh. “This place is making me jumpy. What I wouldn’t give for a mug of horge back at the fort.”

“You drink too much of that stuff as it is…”

The voices faded off into the distance. Shann said a brief thank you to the Three.

She moved back and crossed to the rear of the third hut without incident. From there she could see the ore carts–her immediate goal. Checking that the coast was clear once more, she covered the intervening ground and reached the carts. Two were half full; one was empty. She clambered into the empty one, curling up and pulling the blanket over her, so that it covered her slight form.