Erich's Plea: Book One of the Witchcraft Wars Page 12

to get through the door first. The two orcs pushed and shoved at each other trying to get through the door, while grunting at each other in their native tongue. The delay gave Lara another clear shot and the halfling woman watched, with immense satisfaction as the dart found its mark in the side of the orc’s neck. For a few seconds the guard merely stood, hand raised to the side of his neck, as if to swat away an insect, and then he too fell, face forward into the corridor.

  The second guard roared his defiance at Lara. As he went to step over the corpse of his fellow guard, his feet however, caught on the fallen guard’s belt and he staggered, trying to regain his balance against the press of the other guard’s behind him and the two fallen guards at his feet. Lara was able to get another shot at the approaching guard, but his ungainly tread and unsteadiness meant that the dart missed its mark, the tip of the dart merely grazing the thick skin on his left arm. Nowhere near enough, Lara knew, to kill, and not even enough to incapacitate.

  “Tares, Wulfstan, I could use a hand out here,” Lara called as the guard continued his progress. Putting the blowgun away in its holder on her belt, Lara backed up as far as possible and pulled out her wickedly sharp dagger. The blade itself was slightly curved with a razor edge honed on both sides and in experienced hands like Lara's the weapon was deadly. Bracing herself against the wall the halfling woman waited until the last moment then ducked under the guard’s outstretched arm and plunged the dagger into his belly. She twisted the knife slightly and dragged it upwards; effectively disemboweling the guard. Still more of the guards were coming, moving much more cautiously after seeing how easily three of their fellow guards had fallen at the hands of this seemingly innocent halfling.

  Tares, Wulfstan and Roulibard came running into the corridor in response to Lara’s call for assistance. Wulfstan, the first to arrive, immediately ran forward to the doorway, his stolen short sword raised high. Tares bowed his large head and muttered a short prayer before raising his own heavy headed mace. The weapon was so large it was unlikely any human would be able to even lift it in two hands, let alone wield it. Tares however, with his superior minotaur strength, used the giant mace in one hand.

  Lara moved further down the corridor and melted into the shadows. Replacing her dagger she took out another one of her favorite weapons, the leather sling with its pouch of smooth, rounded stones. Slings were rarely used by assassins, as the stones did minimal damage but Lara appreciated the subtlety of the weapon, especially when fighting alongside allies in close, cramped conditions. If she accidentally hit one of her allies instead of her foe, the blow would not be deadly nor would it inflict too much damage. To the enemy however, the small flying stones hitting them repeatedly tended to keep all but the very best and most experienced understandably distracted and therefore easier targets.

  Coming from behind her in the corridor the halfling woman was surprised to hear Roulibard uttering a low, unintelligible murmur. She had not expected that any of the prisoners would be in any shape for spell casting. Lara was in favor of prayers in battle, whether they worked or not people believed that they did and often that was enough. In its place Lara was also in favor of magic, but certainly not here, not now. Spellcasters in Lara's opinion rarely seemed to understand things like dimensions and available space; far too often she had seen spells go horribly wrong, doing as much damage to friend as foe.

  “Do not,” Lara said emphatically, not taking her eyes off the melee in front of her for a second, “cast a spell, there’s no room and you’ll probably just end up with crispy fried Wulfstan.”

  “I realize that, I was just wishing I had a sling of my own, something to help,” Roulibard answered despondently.

  “Just stay back out of the way,” Lara answered absently.

  Out of the corner of her eye Lara spied a single guard, a half-orc with slightly better equipment than the other guards, slip out of the room they had been hiding in and begin running down the corridor towards the main room of the prison. Wulfstan had obviously also spied the fleeing orc.

  “Don’t let him get away,” Wulfstan yelled.

  “No, he’s scared, let him go;” Lara countered; “besides we can’t waste too much more time.”

  Wulfstan shook his head in disgust but focused on the guards still facing him. As the warrior slashed out at the guard in front of him two other guards peeled off from their positions at the back of the melee and ran back down the corridor towards the main room. Lara heard Wulfstan mutter something under his breath but he did not pursue the fleeing orcs.

  Gathering Supplies

  Soon enough, although like all battles it felt as though it had lasted forever, all the remaining guards lay dead at the feet of Wulfstan and Tares. Tares was unscathed but Wulfstan had an obviously broken arm and a nasty slash on one cheek. Tares placed his large hands on Wulfstan's head and bowing his own the minotaur began to pray.

  As Lara and Roulibard looked on the gash on Wulfstan's cheek closed, leaving the skin smooth and pink and his arm lost its unnatural shape. The halfling woman could see some bruising was already forming along the length of Wulfstan's forearm, which it appeared Tares' prayers were unable to prevent. Ever since the first time Lara had seen Tares’ healing abilities in action she had been awed by the power possessed by the big minotaur.

  “We should catch up with them, they’ll likely lay in wait for an ambush or something,” Wulfstan appealed to Tares.

  “No, my friend. There has been sufficient killing for this day,” Tares spoke softly, well understanding the military mind, which could not bear to see the enemy escape. “We must determine if we can find everyone’s belongings and leave this place quickly.”

  Wulfstan rolled his eyes but did not argue. Lara was not surprised; very few people seemed inclined to argue with a minotaur who stood six and a half feet tall and who, for all his prayers and gentle nature, could fight like a demon.

  “Lara, take Wulfstan and search, quickly,” Tares stressed the word as he held Lara's gaze, “the other rooms on that side of the corridor. Stay this side of the main room. Roulibard and I will do the same on this side. Take no more than fifteen minutes and return to prince, I mean Slade and the others.”

  “Stay close behind me in case there’s more guards around,” Lara said to Wulfstan, who was still clearly fuming.

  “Roulibard, let us go,” Tares paused seeing the young wizard gazing intently at his hands, “what is the matter?”

  “What?” Roulibard looked up at Tares, “Sorry, I just, it’s nothing, I was thinking of something else. Lead the way sir knight.”

  “I have not yet attained that rank,” Tares said, as he began walking down the corridor to the next doorway, “I am a working cleric. That is all.”

  “As you say,” Roulibard answered, falling into step with Tares.

  The first room that Tares and Roulibard came to was another barracks room identical to the one they had just left. Still moving quietly Tares with Roulibard close behind him opened the next and final door. A small, square room lacking windows or any other doors, two of the three blank walls were lined floor to ceiling with shelves, the other had three enormous crates stacked side by side, which were spilling over with clothes of all descriptions. This was obviously the prison store room and likely had items belonging to the guards as well as those things taken from the prisoners. The difficulty now would be separating those items that belonged to Wulfstan, Slade and Roulibard from all the other equipment stored there.

  “Roulibard, do you think you can find your belongings in this mess?” Tares asked.

  “No problems, I'll get all the stuff if you just keep an eye out in case any of those fleeing guards remember their duty and decide to come back,” Roulibard answered walking into the room. It was a matter of only a few minutes for Roulibard to locate everything he was going to be able to find. He found Slade's matching katanas and the custom-made leather brace that allowed Slade to wear the katanas on his back. He al
so found Slade’s six-foot long quarterstaff made from the ancient redwood trees that grew only in the heart of Kodeshka’s forests.

  Wulfstan's plate mail armor, with the royal crest of Saxenburg across the breast, was in poor shape but Roulibard grabbed it anyway as well as the matching tower shield, which was in much better condition. Guessing at what weapons Wulfstan may have possessed on arrival Roulibard simply grabbed a couple of long swords and a few daggers; sticking all of them in a convenient leather belt he found and wrapped around his own waist.

  What items may have belonged to him, Roulibard had no idea. His memory had somehow been wiped clean and he simply could not remember whether or not he had possessed any armor or weaponry at the time of his arrest. In fact he could not even remember his own arrest or the reason for it. How or why he was so certain he had collected the correct items for Slade and Wulfstan he also didn’t know but he was sure he had the right gear.

  “Got it, let’s go,” Roulibard came up behind Tares who had been diligently observing the corridor.

  “You have found everything?” Tares asked, astonished at the speed.

  “Everything I'm likely to find, let’s get back to the others and get out of this place.”

  “Agreed,” Tares rumbled and