Erich's Plea: Book One of the Witchcraft Wars Page 11
“What did you say?”
“I said it has to be The Dark One behind this, first he takes Ixlan and now Saxenburg,” Slade repeated.
“Whatever. I don’t care who it was. They’ll die for what they’ve done,” Wulfstan snarled.
Slade was too preoccupied with his own thoughts to notice Wulfstan's rage. Nikolai, however, was watching the bodyguard closely. Although Nikolai did not agree with Slade's reasoning, he would not question it if it meant Slade was willing to work together.
Another Way Out
“Either way we’ve got to get out of here and find out what’s going on. The Dark One will not get away with trying to destroy my family. I hope you’ll all help me,” Slade waited until he received affirmations from the rest of the group.
“Thank you. Now, let’s go. We’ll take whatever might be useful,” Slade instructed, handing Wulfstan a large, leather backpack, “and see if we can find another way out on this level. Logically there must be one somewhere.”
“There is another way out,” Lara cut in, “but we have to get upstairs first and go down from there.”
Tares opened his mouth to question Lara but eventually decided again it, even though the minotaur cleric knew, all too well, that the halfling woman loved adventure and exploring above all else. It was therefore quite in character for Lara to lead them on a merry chase, just for the chance to explore the prison. However, his own mission was still paramount in his mind and exploring would give him the opportunity needed to fulfill it. After that, given everything he had just heard Tares was certain that Lord Michael Strong would want him to lend his assistance to Slade and the others to prevent a military takeover of Saxenburg.
“All right then,” Slade said, “lead the way Lara.”
Lara took the lead followed by the others with Nikolai and Tares lingering slightly to take up the rear position. As the halfling woman led the group unerringly through a veritable maze of corridors in the silent underground prison, the necromancer and the minotaur fell behind in order to speak privately.
“You know where he is?” Tares whispered to Nikolai. With a secretive smile on his sensual lips, the necromancer nodded, then motioning the cleric to bend down Nikolai whispered directly into the minotaurs ear.
“You’re certain?” Tares spoke aloud in his surprise, causing Darzan to look back at them both questioningly. The necromancer nodded briefly once more and then hurried ahead to catch up with the rest of the group.
Tares continued to lag behind mulling over what the necromancer had revealed. If the mage was telling the truth, and Tares admitted to himself, Nikolai probably would not lie to him about that, then it certainly explained a lot of the contradictory information the minotaur cleric had so far uncovered.
Blindly following the others, Tares felt a sudden despair. This information must be brought to Lord Michael’s attention as soon as possible. There was nothing that Tares himself could do to aid this situation, only Lord Michael had sufficient power to help. Hurrying forward, the minotaur made a mental note to talk to Lara at the first opportunity, to let her know their primary mission, at least, had been completed.
Their new mission, Tares believed, now lay with Slade. The minotaur wondered how the necromancer’s information fitted into the pattern that Slade had discerned. Tares was reluctantly coming to the conclusion that Nikolai was correct; there was a lot more going on than was readily apparent. He was so deep in thought that he failed to notice that the group had come to a complete halt until he almost walked straight into Darzan. He apologized gravely to the pirate woman and stepped to one side.
It seemed that Lara had led them to a rarely used corridor in the eastern part of the prison. Looking around Tares noticed there were few torches burning, making it quite a bit darker than the previous corridors. This confirmed his suspicion that they were in a little used section of the prison. Peering over Darzan's shoulder the minotaur tried to locate Lara but could not see her in the dim lighting. Moving quietly Tares walked past Darzan till he reached Wulfstan's side.
“What is going on?” Tares whispered to Wulfstan.
“Some kind of trap, apparently,” Wulfstan replied in his normal speaking voice. When Nikolai turned back to glare at him Wulfstan simply shrugged, saying “No one’s around, we’ve already killed all the guards on this level.”
“Wonderful.” Nikolai hissed in a caustic whisper, “In that case definitely announce our presence down here to anyone who might be listening. You obviously haven’t got enough to do and need a challenge.”
“Listen you, you have no right to try and tell me what to do. I happen to be a bodyguard to the royal house of Saxenburg and…”
“Yes. We all know how well that turned out, don’t we. Thank Bhaal I’m not a member of the royal house, who knows how long I'd live...”
“I should kill you where you stand for that,” Wulfstan's fury sprang from his deep sense of guilt and at having his fault pointed out so baldly by a stranger. Moreover, a stranger Wulfstan was coming to intensely dislike and did not trust.
“If you two don’t shut up I'll kill both of you where you stand,” Slade's anger obvious even in a whisper.
“Got it,” Lara’s announcement cut through the rapidly developing argument, “who’s going first?” Lara indicated the steep and narrow stone staircase behind the door.
“What’s up there?” Slade asked Lara as he peered up into the darkness.
“It should be a big storeroom, you know, where they keep all the prisoners stuff until they’ve had a chance to go through it.”
Slade hoped she was right; they could do with some better supplies. Apart from Lara, Tares and Darzan, who had come into the prison fully equipped, Slade and Wulfstan carried only arms and equipment purloined from the dead guards. If it had not been for Trunk's incredible natural strength they would never have made it this far.
“I’ll go first,” Slade said and began heading up the steep set of stairs before anyone else had the chance.
Tares lingered behind, taking advantage of the opportunity to inform Lara of the information he had received from Nikolai.
“This means, Lara,” the minotaur finished gently, “that you have completed your mission for Lord Michael. You may go home now if you wish.”
“I don’t think so,” Lara replied, her impish face unusually serious, “I promised Michael I'd see this all the way through. Besides,” she added, “I think Slade will need my help. Oh, and yours too Tares. And anyway, don’t you think we should keep an eye on Nikolai?”
“Yes, Lara, I do,” Tares answered gravely, “and I thank you for your decision to stay. However, you must take this mission as seriously as you undertook your previous mission. Do you understand?”
“Yes Tares. Look I know I can be a little irresponsible sometimes but I won’t let you or Michael down. And I don’t know what Nikolai might be up to but I don’t trust him, not completely, anyway,” she said before following Wulfstan up the narrow staircase.
Tares silently followed Lara up the stairs. Although he would not have thought it possible, the minotaur found he was actually pleased that Lara had elected to stay and help the former prince. Not only because it demonstrated a growing sense of responsibility in the halfling woman but also because in some way that the minotaur was unable to completely define, Lara’s presence was unnerving to the necromancer. The halfling woman was, or rather had been, privy to a world completely unknown to Tares. Hopefully that knowledge would give Lara a perspective on Nikolai that the minotaur might otherwise miss. Despite the necromancer’s apparent desire to help Slade Tares still felt uneasy about his role in the shadowy events that seemed to be unfolding.
Slade opened the door at the top of the staircase and walked into a room that was definitely not a storeroom. Two well stuffed chairs were arranged in front of a large stone fireplace set in one wall of the room. Although, judging from how clean it was the fireplace was probably a relatively ne
w addition to the room.
The back of the room had two large windows that looked out over the courtyard of the prison complex. On the opposite wall, set in the centre, was another door, with large bookcases on either side of the door. To Slade's right was a large, marble desk with a comfortable looking chair and in the centre of the room stood a small table with two intricately carved wooden chairs either side of it, both facing towards the windows.
This room had to belong to the governor; no one else in Diablis prison would have such elaborate accommodations. Looking at the scrolls and papers on the bookcases Slade wondered what clues might be found if they had the time to search this room.
“Lots probably.” Slade spun around to see Roulibard standing at his elbow.
“What did you say?” Slade questioned the young wizard.
“You were talking about possible clues, I just said there’s likely to be lots. The question is do we have the time.”
“I didn’t say anything,” Slade began.
“Time for what?” Wulfstan asked, as he entered the room, Trunk on his heels.
“Time to properly search this room, go through all those papers.” Roulibard answered, gesturing towards the shelves.
“In the middle of trying to escape from The Kingdoms most inescapable prison you want to search through all this?” Wulfstan asked incredulously gesturing around the room.
“I didn’t say I wanted to,” Roulibard began heatedly, flushing under Wulfstan’s derisive tone, “I said Slade wanted to. Although personally I do think it’s a good idea. You should know your enemy.”
“Slade, come on,” Wulfstan turned toward Slade in appeal.
“Actually,” Nikolai interrupted, as he entered the room, “I think you’re both right. Someone probably should search through all this stuff; however, we can not ignore the fact that we are not only in the midst of a prison break but one intended to kill us all at the last moment in order to make it look like an accident.”
“I thought you said Slade was the intended target,” Wulfstan said suspiciously.
“Wulfstan, please use your brains for once,” Nikolai began, “I assume that you do have some.”
“Forget that,” Slade cut in before Wulfstan could respond, “I thought Lara said this was a storeroom.” Turning he saw Lara standing against the now closed and virtually invisible door, her pixie face blank with surprise.
“It should be a storeroom, Slade, I don’t get it,” she moved over to the windows which looked out over the courtyard and began running her tiny hands along the wall, listening intently at the same time. Coming to the connecting door Lara opened it to reveal what could only have been Luca's bedroom. Getting down on her hands and knees, she searched under the bed before nodding her head, her long ponytail flying behind her.
“Yep, this is it,” Lara said standing up, “Obviously they moved stuff around but it’s still the same place. Under the bed is a hidden staircase which leads straight out of the prison, through a long tunnel and comes out in a set of underground caves near the coastline.”
“You are absolutely certain of this Lara?” Tares questioned her gravely.
“Absolutely bul…Tares, just climb down there and away we go.”
“What’s the tunnel used for?” Wulfstan asked.
“Well you know that back in the old days this building used to be the palace right?”
Seeing their questioning looks Lara continued, “You didn’t know that? I suppose I’m not surprised, it was a long time ago. Anyway, before The Dark One took over Ixlan this building was originally the old king’s palace. Obviously they’ve modified it a bit since then but a lot of stuff from the old palace days that they couldn’t immediately use was left over and The Dark One just left it here and built the prison around it. I suppose it was meant to be an insult to the old regime. Anyway, the main room in the centre, back when it had a roof, was the old king’s throne room where he’d receive official visitors and hold court. That’s not really important now though, the important bit for us is that like all kings he was a little bit paranoid so he had this bolt hole built, just in case of emergencies.”
“How do you know all this Lara?” Slade asked.
“I had a job here once when King Eldritch was still on the throne,” Lara mumbled her reply, a slight blush tinting her cheeks.
“Wait a minute,” Wulfstan said, “if this place used to be the palace then where does The Dark One live?”
“No one knows for sure,” Nikolai answered, looking speculatively at Lara, “there are rumors but all anyone actually knows is that he definitely does not live here on the main island. Unless you know otherwise Lara?”
“Me? I don’t know anything about him, I barely like saying his name,” Lara answered but she could tell by the look on his face that Nikolai, at least, did not believe a word she said.
Slade said, “I think if we’re that close to getting out we probably can spare a little bit of time and there is bound to be important information here. Wulfstan, why don’t you and Tares keep your ears open at the door while the rest of us give this place a quick going over. There may be information about the assassinations and we might be able to find out where they stored our belongings.”
Battling the Guards
Krolk and his men had been in position for over an hour. The burly half-orc had stationed two guards as lookouts in the corridor while the rest of his men waited with him in the elite guards barracks. The two guards outside would warn him when the prisoners made their appearance and then he and his men would move in for the kill. An ambush of the prisoners would be easier than trying to track them down. At least, that was how the governor had explained it to Krolk.
At the time, it seemed to make sense. After more than an hour of waiting though, the half-orc was beginning to have doubts. Although Krolk was not overly endowed with intelligence he was an excellent prison guard and it seemed odd to him to wait for the prisoners when there was even a small chance that they might escape. Why lay an ambush for weakened, easy to kill prey, he wondered? Furthermore he also knew, for he had delivered the news to the governor personally, that there were strangers in the prison. Strangers who had obviously come to help one of the prisoners escape. The half-orc guard was still contemplating this problem, pushing his brain to its’ limits, when one of the corridor guards came in, making his way to the back of the room where Krolk stood waiting.
“Boss, dere’s someone in da big bosses’ room,” the guard reported. Krolk frowned, no one should be in the governor’s office and there was no way that someone could have gotten in without passing his guards.
“Do ya know who it is, mebbe it’s the Boss?” Krolk asked hopefully.
“I dunno, it don’t sound like that. Like who’s in there’s skulkin’ round, bein’ real quiet.”
Krolk frowned again; he simply did not know what to do. It had to be the strangers in there, maybe along with some of the prisoners as well. Although how they could have gotten in there he had no idea. Unfortunately, the governor’s orders had been specific; they were to wait here and ambush the prisoners.
Krolk put his hands to his temple and gave a loud, grunting squeal of utter frustration. The stupid human’s orders gave the half-orc no options but to stand here and wait, while whoever was across the hall did who knows what, being quiet and sneaky. Quiet and sneaky. That gave him an idea. If he and his men could make enough noise in here then Krolk was sure whoever was in the governor’s office would surely come to investigate. That way Krolk and his men would still be obeying orders by not leaving the room and if it was the prisoners across the hall then they would soon meet their end and the governor would surely give him and his men a suitable reward. An ugly smile spread across Krolk's face as he instructed his guards to start making some noise, a lot of noise.
Immediately Krolk and all the guards set up a cacophony of grunts, groans, and a mixture of Common and orcish profanity. With eleven guar
ds in the room, all obeying the half-orc’s orders, the noise level grew so loud that the remaining guard in the corridor, Rajalk, second in command of the prison guards, opened the door to find out what was happening. Rajalk stood in the doorway observing his fellow guards, all making bizarre noises, and wondered if they had all lost their minds. With the noise level so high it is little wonder that Rajalk never heard the door to the governor’s study open, nor did he hear Lara slip past Wulfstan and Tares into the corridor.
Lara moved silently into position, armed with her blowgun filled with its’ poisonous darts. Once she was behind Rajalk she had an unobstructed shot to the back of the big orc’s neck. The other guards inside the room were so intent on their task that they were paying Rajalk no attention. That is until he fell, almost gracefully, face first onto the floor, Lara’s poisoned dart embedded firmly in his meaty neck right where the skull attached to the spine.
Krolk watched Rajalk's fall in puzzled bewilderment, his large piggish head tilted slightly. Then his eyes fell on the feathered end of the dart sticking out of the back of Rajalk's neck and the half-orc immediately understood what had happened. Looking up Krolk met the unflinching gaze of a halfling female, blowgun still in her mouth. The half-orc guard knew immediately that this was no prisoner. Therefore she must be one of the strangers in the prison and the governor would definitely reward Krolk if he could take care of these troublemakers. They would pay for Rajalk’s death and for freeing the prisoners, the half-orc thought to himself. Not one of them would get out of here alive.
“Get her, now,” he yelled to the rest of his guards, who were still staring stupidly at their fallen comrade uncomprehendingly. At Krolk’s order the guards began to run for the door, determined to kill the halfling woman and extract revenge for Rajalk. Lara stood her ground, waiting patiently with the blowgun still at her lips while the guards pushed towards the door.
Thinking far more quickly than the slow-witted orc guards, Lara knew that the doorway would admit only one of them at a time. Orcs were not known for their slender physiques, that fact and the corridor itself presented her with plenty of opportunities to take out the guards.
Although it was wider than the doorway the corridor was still an extremely cramped area for hand-to-hand combat. For Lara, though this particular battlefield was an assassin’s dream come true. All the halfling woman had to do was wait for the perfect shot and pick off as many as she could, secure in the knowledge that more experienced fighters were only a moment away, ready to come to her aid if she needed it.
Two guards reached the doorway at the same time, their broad shoulders connecting as they each tried