The Exodus Sagas: Book III - Of Ghosts And Mountains (18 page)

“
What are they doing? How is James doing that
?” Kaya whispered to Shinayne. She saw the bloodflow stop, heavy black and red scabs form over wounds, and black bruising begin and then fade away to green.

“Zen is a priest of Vundren, and James is simply blessed by the Gods so it would seem. I have no answer for it, save that mercy and grace have been given to our horned friend here when it was needed most. It is not the first time.” Shinayne wiped her eyes, listened, and felt the coming of more men from every direction.

“I hope mercy and grace get us out of this city in one piece, ask them for me would you?” Gwenne shot back, just as James collapsed against the wall.

“I have no more, weakness coming, sorry Saberrak. I will pass out if I continue.” James struggled to his feet, back against the stone wall.

“Mercy and grace are for the weak.” Saberrak huffed his first words in quite some time.

“Mercy and grace are what keep me from tearing you apart myself, Saberrak the gray. Do not ever,
ever
, leave on the back of a dying dragon again, not without us right there with you. Do you hear me,
horned one
?” Shinayne put her arms around the now standing minotaur, her dearest beast and friend, amazed and thankful he was still alive.

“Let me guess, you are the one who organized this rescue?”

“Of course,
who
else?”

“Charge in headfirst, cut your way through, grab the bull by the horns strategy? I assume she was difficult to deal with lately.” Saberrak huffed toward James, Zen, and Gwenneth, who returned nods and wide eyed affirmations with smirks and grins to match his own. His vision still like blue clouds, his body refreshing and healing rapidly, Saberrak was feeling his strength return faster than he could imagine. He hugged his elven friend in return, lifted up his axe, looked for the other and remembered it was in the arena.

“Oh, oh, almost forgot this. Here, you will likely be needin’ this. I lifted it from the dragons pile o’ stolen loot back in Bailey, orders of Shinayne here. It looks nice, don’t weigh much, and it’s just yer’ size I think, my horned friend. Good to have you back with us.” Zen handed the double bladed greataxe with the sapphires and old runic designs decorating the blades and shaft.

Saberrak took it, nodded to his elven and dwarven companions. It was light, strong, and felt good in his left hand. “I smell ogre, men, and something that rots with sweetness or sugar. We had better move.”

“Chalas will track us here, as will the rest of the White Spider, we need to change direction and lose them.” Kaya moved ahead, Shinayne beside her, the rest in tow.

“The brown minotaur in the arena with Saberrak, or the two headed thing lying down? Either way, they are both dead.” Gwenne looked to her left and right, then behind, then back forward.

“No, after your lightning hit him, I looked for the body.” Kaya replied.

“
And
?” Saberrak had concern in his voice.

“Nowhere. I found a piece of horn, some blood, scorch marks, but no Chalas Kalaza.”

“
Ssshhhh
. Something moves ahead.” Shinayne put her back to the wall, blades out slowly.

I can hear you, I am here with you

You will not escape my city

Run all you want

I see your thoughts, heading west, but you will not survive me

“It’s him, the Lord of Devonmir, well one of them. He is still in my head, whispering to me.”

They all froze, in the shadows of the darkest tunnels, watching one figure fumble in the black ahead, intrigued by their light. Then five, then dozens rounded the corner toward them, silent as a mob could be. “
Saberrak
?”

“
Capitan Norrice
?” Saberrak stepped out into the tunnel toward the Harlian man he was imprisoned with.

“You are alive! We are but thirty left, but we found you, thank Alden!”

“Ssshhh!”

“
Right, right, ssshhhh
!” Norrice pointed his finger over his lips back to the twenty nine behind him as they approached.

“You made it out, I told you that you would.” Saberrak patted him on the shoulder.

“Barely, if not for your friends here setting us free, especially James, Shinayne, and Kaya who must have killed three dozen ogre and soldiers saving our skins. Then, insanely, they kicked open the door and charged the arena for you. I have never seen such bravery!”

“Elven strategy?” Saberrak huffed at Shinayne.

“Worked, didn’t it?” She grinned back.

“Allright, strength in numbers they say, but keep quiet. We take the lead.” Kaya glared at each one of them, letting them know she was serious and time for celebration was nowhere near at hand.

“Any warriors here, Saberrak?” James looked over the motley and starved faces of the recently imprisoned.

“Doubtful, watch your coins and purses. But, they did make it this far, they deserve our help.”

“Agreed. Now, let’s get outta this shithole, shall we?” Zen stomped ahead behind the ladies. “Vundren forgive my cursin’ tongue.”

Hissing echoes seemed to strike in the shadows, twice, three times, like a quiet force. Three men dropped in the rear of the company. Lifeless, weapons fell from limp arms, three quick slumps and it was done. Two more hisses, and two more prisoners fell to the ground as if something had simply vanished their life away in a painless blink. Everyone scattered, men yelled, and crossbow fire filled the cavernous tunnels. Twisting and shouting in pain, seven more men fell dead. The White Spider assassins, leading a band of ogre guards, Devonmir soldiers, and a floating figure all marched from behind.

“
They led them right to us! Damn it
! Run, this way!” Kaya yelled over the men, heading toward the stairs north at the end of the passage, barely in view from Gwenneth’s light.

“Do we trust her?” Saberrak talked serious and quiet to James and Shinayne.

“For now, yes.” James nodded.

“She agreed to get us in and get us out, I say follow her.” Shinayne replied in agreement.

“Move men, move!” Saberrak roared over the men, charging behind Kaya, everyone followed.

Through dimly lit corridors, up twisting stairs, under fire from behind, the fugitive company charged blindly north and up, trying to reach the surface of Devonmir. Caverns gave to manmade passages in full, arcane light danced between occasional turns and crossroads. Sealed sewer grates gave no reprieve, nor did barred doors leading off the main tunnels, like rats in a maze, they ran, following the person in front of them.

“Saberrak!” the voice from behind echoed with a bestial roar.

“I know that voice.” Saberrak listened. He heard the faint grating of a steel blade along stone. It brought him back to Unlinn, to escaping Arouland, to just an hour past in Ajastaphan. His blood boiled, he thought to turn and face Chalas, then the gentle push from Gwenneth snapped him back into moving forward again.

“Do not even
think it
, gray one. Keep moving.” Gwenne would not care to see whatever obviously had a hand in killing the two headed giant, nearly killed Saberrak, and lived through two of her most deadly spells. She wanted out as much as anyone else.

The tunnel opened into a larger room, an old warehouse underground, rotted crates galore. The room was massive, the light did not extend even to a wall on any side, and barely the ceiling. Suddenly it did, torches lit magically, instantly, dozen along all four walls, two sets of stairs up on the far north wall. Before that, two robed figures hovered with twenty armed guards in front of them, all ready, all a trap. Kaya backed behind the wall to the tunnel, and looked to the rest, shaking her head.

“A trap, they have us caught in the middle. I did my best, I am sorry.” Kaya sighed, checking her shortblade and raising her mask high.

The commotion from behind assured them that the hunters from the rear were still there, and there was nowhere to run but either back, or into this room with two Lords of Devonmir waiting. Saberrak looked at his friends, then to his axes. “No way out?”

“Two, both north, both leading up. Two Lords in there, Chalas and one behind us. Outnumbered either way.”

“Suggestions?” Saberrak huffed.

“Charge in,
elven style
. I will take the one on the left with Norrice and the men. If they want me, you will know soon enough. You all head right, a moment after me. It is you they want most of all, so let me be the bait and the distraction.” Kaya smiled, though no one saw it under her mask.

“Since when did assassins find heroics like that?” Gwenneth questioned, casting a glance to her wands.

“It has felt mildly exciting being on this side for once, an honor to fight with you and all, but I would not call it heroism, Lazlette.”

“We meet outside the city, to the north. If not, do you—“ Saberrak was cut off.

“Yes, I know where you are heading, gray one. They all do, so do not fail to
continually
disappoint the White Spider by surviving. Do it for me, and we call it even.”

“Agreed.” Saberrak growled, having second thoughts about this plan.

“If I make it out, I will find you to the west, in the mythical lands of Kaki-stone or something insanely far away. For now, make sure edge meets flesh, and Gwenneth, hit them hard with whatever you have up your sleeve.” Kaya nodded to Saberrak and his friends, something tingly welling in her throat, she could not place it. She felt it again as Shinayne met her eyes, that aquamarine glare that saw right through her mask. “Stop that look, elf, or I might change my mind.”

“Well fought Kaya T’vellon, and thank you.” Shinayne bowed.

“
That does it
.” Kaya turned her head away and looked over to the men, all whispering that they were trapped. “
Norrice and company, we lead this time, follow me!”

Saberrak, Shinayne, James, Zen, and Gwenneth all shoved their backs to the passage wall, making room for all the remaining sixteen men to rush past them.

“
Saberrak
!” The roar of Chalas Kalaza came again from behind.

I feel your fear

I see your eyes

Shinayne T’Sarrin

I am here, you protect the dwarf and his heirlooms, I see

Shinayne nodded to all present, fear and worry on her face. The demon calling her name, and she knew his on her lips,
Trehad
. She calmed herself from the voice in her mind, nodded again, receiving silent nods from her friends. Just as the sound of crossbow fire, blades clashing, and men falling had finished the first echo, as bootsteps hit the stairs behind them in pursuit, they charged in.

Blades fell to the ground from desperate men, everything moved slow as time stood still. Blood sprayed from accurate assassin swords, crossbows withered the charge of Norrice’s captives. Kaya was in the middle of too many soldiers, cutting fast from necks, to ribs, and slashing with the sharpened smallshield at the legs of enemies she tore between. One cut on her shoulder, another bolt punctured her abdomen, yet her blades never slowed. The remaining men, Norrice leading them, assailed the left staircase into twenty soldiers. The black robed lord lifted his finger, and another one of the prisoners began to stand back up in undeath, then another.

Saberrak roared, wanting to save this woman that had helped them, yet to the right he ran, both axes out wide and horns low. His steps shook the ground, yet the arrows flew, blocked by a barrier of force from Gwenneth at the last moment. It fizzled out of existence, the other black clad demon pointing his fingers and dismissing Lazlette’s defenses. The minotaur crashed through a half dozen guards, axes, horns, they screamed as he cut them down.

Shinayne followed, then James, the two side by side cutting down men of Devonmir as fast as they could blink. Azenairk followed them, finishing what men may not have been fatally wounded, and putting them to the mortal test of his warhammer, one after another. Though over fifty on twenty to start, it now looked as though the tides had turned as the seekers of Kakisteele looked toward Kaya T’Vellon.

Then they stood.

Every dead prisoner, every deceased soldier stood, weapons in hand, regardless of injury. Some with no heads, some missing limbs, some had entrails hanging and dragging at their feet, and some were still pouring blood out their necks. Red eyes and blank stares, all turned toward the Lords of Devonmir, and then to the remaining living before them.

“Ulceri tiviri!”

“Thoom, adaste!”

Gwenneth had never seen dark magicks such as this, nor knew how to dismiss them. “
Run
, to the stairs!”

“
Saberrak, come face me you coward
!” The voice of Chalas was near the top of the stairs leading into the old underground warehouse.

Saberrak lunged at the black robed figure hovering, staring into the red eyes under the hood. His axe bore down at his chest, and hit nothing. The figure was gone.

“
Ith guul, ith ahmil
!” From across the torchlit room, black shadow twisted into jolts of energy into Saberrak, dropping him to a knee surrounded by the angry dead soldiers. The Lord of Devonmir appeared, fanged face smiling at the minotaur from fifty feet behind.