Flight of the Krilo Page 14

  “How do you keep a torch going in here?” Samek asked.

  Halsten shrugged. “The light gets far enough in there that we can at least scout a ways inside. Come on.” Halsten slid his left hand along the wall of the cave while carefully placing his feet on the walkway before him. “If that scrawny Tarthun could make it out, we can get through too,” Halsten put in as he recalled the runner that had made it to their village.

  “Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?” Samek retorted.

  Halsten didn’t dignify the question with a response. He pressed on, careful not to slip. He could swim if he had to, but he preferred not to if he could avoid it. About twenty yards into the massive cave, there was an eight foot ledge, with a roaring, rapid waterfall cresting over all but a narrow strip of it on their side.

  Halsten easily reached over the top with his arms and pulled himself up for a look. He smiled when he saw that the side of the cave grew even wider at this point. “Come on, it gets better up here,” he shouted.

  “What?” Samek called out over the noise of the water.

  Halsten grunted and clambered over the ledge. He stood up to look around and then felt a sharp pain on the top of his head. “Oh!” His ears rang a bit, but his hand came away from the spot without any blood.

  “Mind the ceiling!” Samek yelled as he met up with Halsten.

  The two hulking men had to hunch over quite a bit to avoid hitting their heads on the top of the cave, but now they could walk with ease as the ground spanned out nearly fifteen yards to their left and appeared to remain fairly wide for as far as they could walk before the light became too dim for them to see any longer.

  “I think we’ll be all right as long as we can get everyone past that first ledge,” Halsten replied.

  Samek nodded. “The water here is a bit more peaceful as well.”

  Halsten looked out and saw that this portion of the river was acting more like a grand lake of sorts. There was no discernable current that could be seen by looking at the surface. Of course, that didn’t mean there wasn’t one, and certainly it became treacherous the closer they went to the eight foot ledge and beyond, but here it almost looked safe enough to bathe in.

  “Let’s go back for the others. We’ll make camp for tonight on the river bank. We’ll prepare enough torches and maybe assign escorts for the elders and the youngest among us and start our way through in the morning.”

  Samek nodded and the two returned to where the others had waited for their return. For dinner they ate a variety of meat such as they had not experienced in recent years. There was goat, antelope, fish, and even bear to be had. There was so much food that everyone was full before the last antelope was even cooked over the fire. There was singing and dancing, as the journey had been fairly uneventful except for the odd group of orcs here and there. They never saw any sign of additional Tarthuns either.

  It was as if Akuhn herself had prepared the way for them to return home.

  The following morning, the group set out through the cave. It took several hours to get all of them across the first checkpoint at the eight foot ledge. There were a couple of near-accidents, but the couple of people who had slipped had been rescued by their escorts and put back on the path without serious injury.

  The group gathered along the long stretch of wide land after the waterfall to rest for a short time, and then Halsten led the way through the rest of the cave. The deeper they went, the lower the ceiling became. At some points they had to crawl on their hands and knees like animals for more than fifty yards at a stretch before they could stand again. The children managed that part all right, but it took a heavy toll on the elders. Deggeira’s knees gave out, and she was forced to rest off to the side. Her escort agreed to stay with her, but there wasn’t much else that could be done.

  Then, to make matters more difficult, what had been fairly easy traveling with the wide stip of dry land became narrow once more as the incline steepened sharply. The group had to crawl over moist rocks against the wall of the cave. Two feet to their right, the rocks dropped off into the river, which was running very quickly at this point in the cave. Several torches fell in the water or were otherwise extinguished. Many of the Varvarr had to navigate by leaning against the wall of the cave with one shoulder as they crawled along the rocks and called out to each other in the dimmer light.

  When they finally made it out to the other side, they had crawled and walked through four miles of cave. Some kissed the grassy shores of the Inner Sea, while others simply moved off to the side and stretched out on the ground to give their legs and back a rest. Halsten, after making sure Agatha and Sarkis were comfortably resting and eating a bit of dried meat, went to explore the shore and found a number of longboats pulled up onto the sand.

  He knew immediately that the runner that had made it to his village could not have been the only Tarthun to flee the Sacred Valley. He felt both relieved and slightly alarmed, as he was unsure what kind of enemy could drive an entire people from their homes so easily. He had heard of the dwarves a time or two from his father, but Jarle had never spoken of any battles with the dwarves. He had said they mostly kept to themselves. Still, Halsten found it hard to believe that people less than half his size could ever present a real threat to him or the Gray Wolf tribe.

  As he scanned the boats, Samek came to him.

  “What is the plan?” he asked.

  “Is everyone accounted for?” Halsten replied.

  Samek nodded and then frowned. “All but Deggeira. She is still in the cavern.”

  Halsten pointed to the boats. “Gather some of the scouts and warriors and go across. Once you have reached the other side, send the boats back.”

  “You think we should split up?” Samek asked. “That Tarthun seemed pretty adamant about the danger.”

  “We are on Akuhn’s errand,” Halsten said. “Take as many warriors as you can fit in the boats. Make a camp, fortify it if need be, but we have to sail to reach the southern shore, and that is where the Sacred Valley is.”

  “We could walk,” Samek replied.

  Halsten shook his head. “No, the elders gave me a map of the area. The mountains close in on the Inner Sea about two-thirds of the way across. There is no shoreline there, only cliffs and bluffs that drop directly into the water. We either sail now, or carry the boats and sail later.”

  “It would seem silly to carry the boats when they are meant to carry us I suppose,” Samek agreed with a nod. “Very well. I’ll take all I can and set up a proper landing for you. Can you show me the map so I know where to aim for?”

  Halsten pulled out an old, leather parchment and unfolded it. The ink was faded, but it was still easy enough to make out the features on the map. We are headed to the south-western point. You’ll know you are close when you pass the large cliffs on the west side of the Inner Sea. From there, if you angle your boats south by south-west, it should take you to a fertile valley with rolling hills.”

  “Ysgrear’s Landing eh?” Samek mused as he looked at the map.

  Halsten nodded. “Precisely. The whole stretch of the Inner Sea is something around one hundred and forty miles, but if you don’t stray off course, Ysgrear’s Landing is only about one hundred miles away.”

  Samek smiled. “So we should make landfall before first light. That’s good. The boats will be a bit slower on the way back though, as most of the men will be staying there and I’ll only spare as many as are needed to row back to you.”

  “I understand,” Halsten said. “Akuhn is smiling on us, brother, can you feel it?”

  Samek shook his head. “All I feel are aches in my knees and the sun burning my face.”

  Halsten laughed and clapped Samek on the back. “If you see any dwarves, save some for me, eh?”

  “Where are you going?” Samek asked as Halsten headed back away from the shore.

  “Someone has to go and get Deggeira.”

  Samek’s smile disappeared. “Suddenly rowing all night doesn’t sound
so bad,” he called out.

  Halsten waved and turned back to camp. Using some rope and a plank of wood from one of the boats that had a couple of holes in the bottom, he fashioned a kind of harness to go around himself, and attached it to the wood to create a sled of sorts. It took him a few hours to get the job done, but Halsten was able to lay Deggeira on the sled and pull her through the rest of the cave, with the help of her escort crawling behind them to ensure Deggeira didn’t fall off at any point.

  When they exited the cave, Halsten discarded the harness and sled and carried the elder to the side of a fire where others had prepared a bed for her and some food. Afterward, Halsten ate and went to bed with his wife, but he couldn’t sleep, for he was troubled by more dreams with the wounded wolf and the growing desert.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Kamal wiped his hand across his forehead. It had taken nearly two full days to bury all the cursed bones that had been found in the last chamber of the temple. Partly because Greeves had demanded that the Genverbond carry the remains ten miles to the north so they wouldn’t pollute the temple, and partly because his brother Weys was not in the group selected to carry out the burial. This, of course, meant that any time a worm was stepped on or cut in half with a shovel, the entire group stopped digging.

  As it was, they were nearly done with everything. All that remained was the final ritual. There were twenty other young Krilo men preparing for that while Kamal walked back up the hill to where the stash of water jugs had been set. According to the rules, any food or drink had to be stored at least one hundred yards away from an open grave or recent burial site. Kamal had to admit he found it odd that there would be a rule like that, but no rule about cleansing one’s hands before consuming the food or drink. Although, had there been such a rule, he wouldn’t have followed it anyway. He was thirsty, and had worked hard over the last couple of days. Clearing the trees had taken most of the first day, and then gathering and transporting the bones took well into the first night. Today had been spent digging.

  He took a drink of the lukewarm water and looked up at the sun. It was early afternoon. The sky was clear without a cloud in sight, and there was a slight summer breeze on the air. Had he not been covered in dirt and sweat, he might have taken the time to lie down atop the hill and simply let the day drift past him, but he never liked the feeling of being this dirty. As it was, he would be seeking a bath before returning to work at the temple.

  He looked down at the other Genverbonds, all scurrying about with their chores. Some cleared away the shovels, others brought wood for the fire.

  “At least they are bones from long ago,” Kamal said aloud. “That is a good change from the battles of late.”

  He would soon come to regret speaking those words.

  As if he had provoked some unseen entity, there was a movement coming from a thick stand of trees some fifty yards beyond the burial site. At first he thought it might be a herd of deer rustling the branches, as they often roamed these parts. But then a group of five, enormous men came out from the trees. Kamal’s heart sank deep into his belly and fear tightened his throat.

  “Brothers, look out!” Kamal called out with his telepathy. His signal went to everyone he could see at the same time. They all looked up and saw the men charging them. The Genverbond youth dropped what they were carrying and fled toward the hill, but they never stood a chance.

  Hermt was the first to fall, slain with an arrow.

  As the young man died, his pain was shared through the telepathic connection. Kamal felt a burning sensation in his chest, and then a wave of weakness and nausea overcame him. He called out in pain and scrambled up to his feet to run.

  The giant attackers caught up with three other Krilo boys. Kamal fell to his knees, racked with pain as one of the Krilo was beheaded, another stabbed in the throat, and the third run through the back with a great spear.

  The agony was blinding now. White light flashed in Kamal’s mind. The other Krilo were handicapped by the shared connection of pain as well. Many of them fell to the ground, screaming in pain, others limped along as best they could, but none of them could escape the onslaught.

  Out of desperation, Kamal broke the connection the only way he knew how. He threw himself down the opposite side of the hill, removing the others from his line of sight. The pain lessened immediately, but like the sting left behind from a larger wound, residual waves of pain throbbed their way through his body.

  He tumbled down the grassy hill half way to the base and then got to his feet so he could run. He sprinted to the south for all he was worth. He had to warn the others. Someone had to find the dwarves. His feet thudded against the ground and the grasses whisked across his legs. As he ran, a fiery explosion ripped through the back of his right calf. He cried out and fell to his face.

  Kamal tried to move, but his right leg was stiff, and any shifting caused such tremendous pain as he had never experienced before. He turned around to see an arrow head poking through the front of his lower leg, just to the left of his shin bone. He tried to crawl, but as he moved he felt something pull on the arrow shaft.

  “GAH!” Kamal screamed as his arms gave out and he fell back to the ground. Tears were streaming down his face uncontrollably now. His jaw was quivering and his face drained of its color. He turned around once more and more closely inspected the arrow. Only then did he notice the thin but strong cord tied to the shaft.

  One of the hulking giants was running toward him, gathering up the rope in his hands and staring at him with intense, blue eyes. Kamal had never seen someone so large as this man before. The Tarthuns were large, but this man would have been head and shoulders above any Tarthun he had ever seen or buried. The muscles were so large it looked as though the man was made of sculpted stone rather than flesh. He wore leather armor trimmed with fur, and carried not only a bow, but a mighty axe.

  Kamal blinked and turned away from the massive figure sprinting toward him. His death was inevitable, but he didn’t have to live his last few moments in terror. He calmed his mind, and spoke a prayer for his family.

  “Guide them in light, and surround them with fire,” Kamal said as he finished the last sentence.

  A large hand reached down and seized Kamal by the neck. An instant later, he was dangling two feet off the ground, held aloft by only one arm. The muscular savage grinned at him and jabbed a finger into Kamal’s chest with his free hand. The warrior then patted various areas of Kamal’s body, presumably looking for a weapon. Then he flung Kamal down to the ground and the young Krilo landed funny, jarring his back and bruising his left hip.

  The warrior then took hold of the arrow stuck in Kamal’s leg and snapped it off without warning.

  “ARGH!” Kamal cried out. The last thing he saw before he blacked out was a grinning behemoth of a man wrapping cords around his wrists and ankles. Then, as his body was overcome by the pain, he lost consciousness.

  It was a chorus of shouting and whooping that woke Kamal. He was bouncing up and down, his head dangling just a foot above the ground. He looked up and saw that his wrists and ankles had been tied to a large spear, and he was being carried by a pair of the attackers who had murdered the others. It was hard to orient himself. His brain was still caught in a slight fog, and he could only hold his head up for a few seconds at a time before his neck muscles would give out and then he was looking at the world upside-down.

  Kamal was carried into the center of a strange camp and dropped onto the ground unceremoniously in front of a man that made the first five look average in size by comparison. The men talked to each other in a strange language that Kamal had never heard before. Despite his pain and the aches in his body, he found himself wishing the large men could speak Taish, at least that way he could listen to what they were saying, but these were no elves.

  By the looks of them, they were very similar to the Tarthuns. Similar dress, weapons, and armor. They used tents as the Tarthuns had. The only difference was that these men were much, much la
rger, and their skin was not as dark in complexion. Still, for all Kamal knew, they could very well be Tarthuns. Perhaps a different tribe had come to avenge the first. There was no way to be sure.

  One of the men reached down and yanked on the top of the spear, bringing it and Kamal upright. Kamal’s weight pulled down against the ropes they had tied him to the spear with, cutting into his skin just enough to release a small amount of blood.

  The largest of the men stepped closer to him and leaned in. He examined Kamal closely, even sniffing around him, and then turned to the others and spoke again in his language.

  “Do you speak Common Tongue?” Kamal asked before he had even realized the words were forming in his mouth.

  The giant men turned to look at him curiously, but none of them answered his question.

  Kamal knew that any misstep was likely to result in his death, but the pain in his leg was starting to become increasingly unbearable now that he was upright and pressure was building in his leg.

  “Do you speak Common Tongue?” Kamal asked, this time slower than before.

  The men laughed. The one holding the spear dropped it and Kamal toppled over to slam against the ground. He hit his head just right, and the lights went out again.

  *****

  “How many did you say you found?” Samek asked after the young prisoner lost consciousness.

  “There were twenty-one, including this one. We killed the others and brought this one in for questioning.”

  Samek nodded. “Well, he isn’t Tarthun, that’s easy enough to see. His face looks old enough to be a man, but his body is so small and weak.”

  “They were all the same,” one of the scouts said. “It was easier than killing goblins. Tiny, frail bodies, and no courage at all. They all tried to run away. None of them even carried a weapon.”

  Samek sniffed and then folded his massive arms across his chest. “Perhaps they are slaves?” He shook his head while watching the prisoner. “A people so weak as this surely can’t have been responsible for driving away the Tarthuns.”