Authors: Becky York
Tags: #fantasy, #space travel, #knights, #medieval fantasy, #knights and castles, #travel between worlds, #travel adventure fiction, #knights and fantasy, #travels through time and space, #fantasy about hidden places
“Five of them now!” Oliver
exclaimed, “how on earth will we…?”
“Lets not dwell on it for the
moment,” said Roland, “We have to rescue Firebrace.”
As well as the scuttlers there was
now a large structure in the middle of the courtyard. It was
difficult to make it out in the darkness. As they got closer to it
they could see that it consisted of bodies – living human bodies
contained behind bars. They got yet closer and as they did a voice
called out weakly, in a whisper, “Roland! Is that you my dear boy?
Is that you my dear sweet nephew? My darling boy! I was sure you
would come to rescue your poor old uncle. Take pity on me – please!
I beg you! Take pity!”
Roland walked up to his uncle
Dagarth, who was pitifully gripping the bars that kept him captive.
He really looked quite bedraggled, pathetic and in desperate need
of rescue. Around him were his men, also prisoners.
Roland asked the obvious. “This may
sound a silly question uncle, but what are you doing in there?”
“Please help us!” pleaded Dagarth;
“The Spirus put us in here and I am sure they are going to kill us
horribly after torturing us horribly first. It will all be
horrible, oh woe is me!” — and he pointed pathetically at his own
torture equipment — “Please get me out at least, you don’t have to
worry about the others, just help me…!”
“Oi!” said a voice from behind.
“There has been a turnabout in
fortunes, hasn’t there!” said Oliver.
“Where is Firebrace,” Roland
demanded to know.
“Please let
me
out…..”
Dagarth continued to plead, “Remember how I loved you, my dear
sweet Roland!”
“You are thinking only of yourself,
uncle, as ever. We’re not going to help you until we’ve rescued
Firebrace. Where is he?”
“We left him in the cell in the
gatehouse, I haven’t seen him since.”
“So he isn’t in there, with you?”
Roland looked through the bars, trying to see between the men
standing in the cage.
“If only he were! I swear I would
beg his forgiveness,! I would willingly kiss his feet and other
unpleasant parts!” wailed Dagarth, “I will give you a million
groats, I will let you have the castle, the treasure, anything you
like, just don’t let the Spirus torture and kill me!”
“Oh
do shut up
, you horrid
nasty whinging wicked uncle, you,” Savitri told him, and prodded
him hard in the guts with her sword.
“Let me have a go at that,” said
Roland, and proceeded to prod Dagarth in the guts with his own
sword.
“You can prod me in the guts all
you like – with swords, lances, what have you, just let me out!”
and he tugged at the bars desperately.
“Where are your partners,
Bril-a-thingy and Gloaty-wotsit?” Roland asked.
“Here!” said Bril-a-Brag, and
Roland saw that he was sitting down behind Dagarth.
“Are there no sentries at all,”
Roland asked him. “Why not?”
Bril-a-Brag said, “The Spirus are
too arrogant to think they need to guard the place any more.”
“So where are they?” Roland
asked.
“Who knows,” Bril-a-Brag shrugged,
“Stowed themselves away inside somewhere. Haven’t seen one since
they put us in here.”
“Are you all in there – all the
people, I mean?”
“Just us fighting men,” said
Bril-a-Brag, “They sent the civilians away — all except for the
kitchen staff. They have been kept on to feed the land surveyors.
The Spirus don’t need food and we are left here to starve.”
“Where are the land surveyors?”
“The Spirus are most impressed with
them as a strategic asset,” cursed Bril-a-Brag, “After I brought
them in, too… They are in the great hall living it up, taking turns
sitting on the throne and arguing over planning issues. They think
they can change the landscape for the better…”
“Or to better themselves!” raged
Dagarth, “It’s what they should be doing for me!
And those two numbskulls Booblejob
and Dribblebib are loose somewhere – even the Spirus realised
they’re too dim to be a danger. They’re probably eating as much as
they like right now…”
Roland had heard enough from
Dagarth and friends. “Can you and your soldiers at least be quiet
if we mount a rescue of Firebrace? Can we trust you?”
“Better still,” said Bril-a-Brag,
“We could be a distraction, if you like…”
“Distract who?” Roland asked.
“The Spirus of course.”
“There aren’t any here.”
“But if there are — when you need
it — we will distract them.”
“Well, okay, if we need it.”
“We want to be of help!” wailed
Dagarth.
“You want to be on our side now so
you can be rescued is what you mean,” Oliver said.
“Well, yes,” Dagarth fessed up,
“but we do see the error of our wicked ways, honestly. I do anyway,
and I’m the one you should rescue.”
“I am sure we can find something
useful for you to do uncle, even if it's just a bit of aggressive
whining.”
“Oh thank you! thank you!” he
whined.
They found their way into the
gatehouse and down the passage to the cell where Roland had left
Firebrace just a couple of days before. The door to the cell was
open — plainly the Spirus were totally unbothered by any threat
from the old man. They should be more wary, Roland thought —
particularly when it came to Firebrace.
The old warrior was lying on the
bed, clearly very weak, but he sat up immediately when Roland
entered. “Roland!” he cried, “Have we won! Is the battle over?”
“Sorry, but no,” Roland replied,
“Not even begun. And I’m afraid to say we didn’t have much luck at
the sun. They only let us have fifty sun warriors!”
“Just fifty!” Firebrace said, “I
always knew they had little regard for us, but I did hope for more.
But how come you are here, if you have not won?”
“We came to rescue you regardless.
Also, there has been a bit of a change of fortunes.
The Spirus turned on Dagarth and
his other allies and they are all prisoners in the courtyard…”
Firebrace threw his head back and
let out a long, loud roaring laugh. The best news I have had in a
long time – and the best medicine too! Told you, didn’t I! I could
have told Dagarth that the Spirus are not to be trusted, but I
wouldn’t have bothered as he wouldn’t have listened. Some people
can only learn by experience! I’m sure he’s learned his lesson now
– until the next time, of course!” and Firebrace laughed again.
Roland continued, “The Spirus
aren’t bothering to guard the castle. They think they have won and
that’s it. They don’t see us as a problem anymore…”
“Don’t they!” Said Firebrace
defiantly, “You say there are no sentries?”
“No.”
“Good, then help me get to the
tower. I could do with proper treatment. I am sure Brother Goodwill
will oblige!”
Roland and Savitri helped Firebrace
get on his feet. With one of them on either side he put an arm
around each so they could support him. Oliver went on ahead to make
sure the coast was clear. They were half way along the passage when
Oliver returned.
“It looks like the scuttlers have
woken up,” he said, “They have started to prowl around the
courtyard as if they know something is up, like it’s feeding time.
They seem a bit dozy and are only half awake but I wouldn’t like to
get near them.”
When they got to the entrance the
scuttlers were indeed waiting for them, like a pride of lions
waiting for its quarry to emerge from its hiding place. There were
faint rumblings as they slowly moved about and they were emitting
low growling noises, like a creature having an angry dream.
“How do we get past them?” Roland
asked.
At that moment a commotion broke
out from the cage which held Dagarth and the other prisoners. They
had been waiting for the rescue party to show itself at the
entrance to the gatehouse and now let go with a distraction.
“It seems we are going to need them
after all,” Oliver said.
“Never discount anyone,” Roland
replied.
“So it seems.”
The scuttlers began to lose
interest in the gatehouse and turned away to the cage.
With their attention distracted, or
at least split, Roland decided it was time to take the chance. They
dodged left out of the gatehouse keeping close to the curtain wall,
hurrying as best they could whilst supporting an invalid. The
scuttlers were attracted by the movement and started towards them,
their feelers twitching whilst the rumbling of their motion shook
the ground. When the prisoners saw what was happening they
redoubled their noisemaking efforts and the scuttlers turned again,
confused once more. The scuttlers stood in the middle of the
courtyard, trying to make up their minds which to attack. The
prisoners strived to make even more noise. There was a risk and
Roland knew it.
“They are going to bring out the
Spirus,” he said.
“Do you want them to stop?” Oliver
asked.
“Not much of a choice is it,”
Roland agreed.
They were now most of their way
around the base of the castle wall and nearing the finished tower.
At that point several Spirus poked their tin heads out of the keep
to see what was going on. At first they assumed that the prisoners
were just making a noise and watched in bemusement. Only slowly did
it dawn on them that the scuttlers were also aware of something
moving around the edge of the courtyard. At last they realised and
rushed towards Roland and his fellows, calling out to others with
the metallic screeching noise that Roland knew only too well.
Oliver knew he could not fight the
Spirus at close quarters. He rushed back to support Firebrace in
order to free up Savitri and Roland. They drew their swords and
rushed forwards, quickly decapitating the few first group of
Spirus. But now more were on the way.
With a phalanx of Spirus rushing
after them all three now lifted Firebrace and hurried him into the
base of the unfinished tower. They did their best to barricade the
solid oak door then carried Firebrace up the stairs as the sound of
crashing and splintering wood sounded beneath them. They were very
glad to see Botherworth open the door for them.
“Are we glad to see you!” Oliver
said.
“First time for everything,” said
Botherworth.
They entered the hall of the
Knights Fortressers with Botherworth now helping the exhausted trio
to support Firebrace. They helped him into a chair with Brother
Goodwill fussing about them in his usual concerned and kindly
way.
“What’s the situation out there?”
Brother Stalwart asked.
“We have a big problem,“ said
Oliver, “There are now five scuttlers.”
“Five!” said Brother Stalwart.
“Five,” Savitri confirmed, “That we
saw.”
“Thanks for pointing that out,”
Oliver said.
“You’re welcome,” Savitri said.
“Yes, five that we saw,” Roland
said.
“The good news,” said Savitri, “Is
that Bril-a-Brag, Gloatenglorp and Roland’s uncle
Yuck
have
been betrayed by the Spirus and are now prisoners in a cage in the
courtyard. They even helped us get back here safely.”
Brother Stalwart laughed as loudly
and fulsomely as Firebrace had, and even Brother Goodwill barely
stifled a giggle. Firebrace laughed again.
Roland said, “The time may come
when we can release them and rely on them as allies, if they see
the battle turning in our favour. We cannot trust them for the
moment as they could still turn against us if they see a
chance.”
“Agreed,” Firebrace said to Roland,
“Now,
you
must decide how we are to proceed in the coming
battle.”
“Should I fetch the Venerable
Conceiver of Strategies?” asked Goodwill.
“This time I have my own plan,”
Roland said. Firebrace nodded his encouragement.
“For my plan to work,” said Roland,
“We will need to move the sun warriors out onto the hill of the
Scary Oak. I could ask Lumenfarge again but really don’t want to
ask too much of him.”
“The problem is already solved,”
said Brother Stalwart, “We envisaged the possibility of this issue
arising and have widened the corridors and installed new freight
lifts so that an entire army can be moved throughout the
tower!”
“You did this in just two days?”
inquired Oliver, slightly amazed.
“Many hands,” said Stalwart, “ –
and industrious ones.”
“And you didn’t even have Goodwill
to make you tea,” said Savitri, with a wink at him. He laughed.
“This is fine!” said Roland,
“Excellent. Thank you! Good work all around! Now,” he said, with
despondency creeping back into his voice, “All we need is to think
of a way of dealing with the land surveyors. We cannot do anything
until we can deal with them. Frankly, without more land surveyors I
don’t see how. We could kill them, but technically they are
civilians…”
“Who are a strategic weapon,”
Savitri pointed out.
“Perhaps they need some
inspiration,” Botherworth said.
“The last thing we want to do is
encourage them,” Oliver objected.
“No, I mean inspiration of the
artificial sort,” Botherworth persisted, and he took a leather
pouch out of his pocket and waved it about, “Besides rescuing you
lot I also liberated some from the Nollynocks and the Grimbles.
Thought it might come in useful!”
“Oh you beauty!” Savitri exclaimed,
giving him a peck on the cheek.
“Just trying to help,” said
Botherworth, blushing a tiny little bit.
“Now, we just need to find a way to
get it to them,” said Brother Stalwart.
“That might not be as hard as you
think,” Roland smiled, “We were told when we were down there that
the land surveyors are being rather well fed from the kitchens, the
only reason why the kitchen staff have been kept on. It should be
possible to sneak a meal in to them. We shall have to make sure
they all eat something of it — it is essential that every one of
them is inspired!”