Keep on the Borderlands

14

A long, shadowy corridor, cut into the rock, meandered ahead of them, fire or torchlight turning the stone ruddy some distance away. No sound, except for their own breathing. Eddis listened intently. No good. She wondered where the goblin had got to. If it had gone on this way, it could be anywhere by now. They could be heading for an ambush.

They were moving slowly, making as little noise as they could, but the passage was dark, the floor uneven, and complete silence impossible. Eddis’ boots shuffled aside a spill of gravel. Someone else’s foot scraped across stone. Each sound seemed loud in the narrow place.

When they halted so Mead, Willow, and Kadymus could check ahead for side passages, Eddis leaned against the wall. Her arm throbbed despite the thick stuff M’Baddah had rubbed across the cut, and she felt lightheaded. She dredged up a smile as Flerys tugged on her sleeve. The child looked worried, and not much reassured when the woman breathed against her ear, “I’m fine.” She took a sip from the water bottle the girl held out to her. Beyond Flerys, M’Whan looked no less concerned.

The passage seemed to go on forever, but Eddis felt a little better for the water, and her sword hand no longer tingled. A short jog right, then immediately left, another right a short distance beyond that—places where a small group of enemies might lie in wait, but each was deserted. All at once there was enough light from well-spaced torches that they could make out the hallway for quite some distance ahead.

They paused again while Mead, Willow, and Jerdren scouted. The three were back in short order, and Jerdren beckoned the party close.

“A tunnel cuts off to the left, just short of that second torch. No guards near, Mead says, but there’s hobgoblins down there, he thinks. Willow could hear someone wailing. I think you’re right, Eddis. This might be where Zebos was held.”

Blorys leaned forward. “What Zebos told me—if that’s where we are—is that there’s only one way into that chamber and only a couple guards. But if you keep straight on this way, you’ll come to a guard room beyond that last torch somewhere. Hebold and his men were taking him that way, said it was how they’d come in, when they were attacked. The guards came from their left, I think, but he could see daylight at that point.”

Jerdren nodded. “Good, but one thing at a time. We’ll be able to tell if it is a prison cell, once we get closer. If it is, we hit it hard, fast, and quiet as we can. Grab any prisoners. Kadymus, that’ll be your task. Once we distract the guards, you find keys for the cells or manacles, and be ready to use ’em once we’ve killed the guards.” He met Eddis’ eyes. “You all right?”

She nodded.

“Good. In and out as quick as we can, kill the guards fast and quiet. Prisoners will be our only concern here. If there aren’t any, we kill the hobgoblins and make sure we find any wealth they’ve got on ’em. Let’s go.”

Eddis stayed with Flerys as M’Baddah went ahead with Willow. The child clutched a spear nearly as long as she was tall in her right hand—one she’d picked up during that last fight. She gave the swordswoman a round-eyed look and a faint smile that was gone as quickly as it came, but she seemed merely awed by the strangeness of her surroundings and not afraid of them. She’ll probably have nightmares for the rest of her life if she survives this, Eddis thought.

And if we’re headed into a dungeon, a prisoner’s cell? She’d seen what was left of tortured, dead men just once, and it had sickened her to her very soul. Better if Flerys didn’t see. How to shield her, though?

They reached the branching of ways without incident. Once they stopped, Eddis thought she could hear faint noises down the left passage. Mead went on ahead but came back almost at once, shaking his head. No one that way—at least close by. Jerdren indicated the left way with a jerk of his head, and started off at a ground-eating long stride. As he fetched up against the first bend, he set his back to the rough stone and listened intently. Eddis could now see her companions clearly. There was plenty of light ahead. Someone down there moaned non-stop, and someone or something else was jabbering in what sounded like Orc or Goblin to her. A deep voice snarled threateningly, and the shrill one was momentarily still.

Willow took the lead then, arrow nocked to the string of his longbow, and stopped just short of the light, Mead right behind him. Blorys slid into place at Eddis’ left and gave her a questioning look. She held up her right hand, flexed the fingers, so he could see they were working again, then drew her sword.

He murmured against her ear, “Good. All the same, stay out of this fight if you can. Keep the girl back.” She nodded, drew the child to her side, and let Panev go by. The priest’s eyes were black, his face stern, and his lips moved silently.

M’Baddah knelt to draw on his thick gloves and hooked the leather envelope of sh’khuris to his belt where he could reach them. That done, he tested his bowstring and joined Willow. M’Whan followed, one arrow nocked to the string, a handful stuffed up his sleeve where he could grab them quickly and fire. How he can do that without losing them all or slicing his arm? Eddis wondered. The youth’s points were long as her finger and wickedly sharp on all four sides.

Tense silence as Willow held up a hand and touched it briefly to his lips, then held it out as a warning to be ready. The high-pitched voice was whimpering once more. It sounds like a dog that’s been beaten, Eddis thought. Flerys bit her lip. Her hands tightened on the spear. The elf brought his hand down sharply and sprinted around the corner, Jerdren and M’Baddah right on his heels, the rest following. Eddis kept the girl back with her.

The passage bent once more, then opened out into a small, brightly lit chamber. Eddis could make out humans shackled to the far wall, and near them, a gnoll hung from chains. The wall was pale rock, splattered with blood. Eddis drew Flerys aside with her as men and elves slammed into the hobgoblin guards. Already the fighting was so fierce that it took the woman a moment to figure out there were only two of the monsters, but both were armed with thick-bladed swords. They were swinging the blades with vicious intent and not much skill—which could be just as deadly in close combat. One of the Keep men fell back, sword dangling from his hand, blood pouring down his arm. Mead dragged him aside, and Jerdren bellowed an order for the swordsmen to get back.

“No arrows!” her co-captain yelled. “You could hit the prisoners!” He pulled back himself, freed up his short boar spear, and waited for an opening.

One of the guards slashed a wild path through the attackers and charged past the Keep men. Eddis drew Flerys farther into the chamber in case the thing was trying to escape, but it turned sharply, sword still swinging, and threw itself at Blorys. Blor parried an overhand blow with his blade and was sent sprawling. Eddis started but subsided against the wall as Flerys snatched at her arm.

Somewhere deep in the turmoil of bodies, M’Baddah shouted, “Down!” A moment later, he broke free and began working his way around the creature, a glittering, deadly metal star gripped in one gloved hand. M’Whan’s spear broke against the brute’s armor. Another hit and clattered harmlessly to the floor.

The hobgoblin was starting for Blorys once more when the sh’khuri thudded home, lodging in its throat, just above the armor. Blood ran down the monster’s throat, but it seemed merely enraged by the wound. A second deadly missile sank in deeper, just above the first. Men and elves scattered as blood sprayed everywhere. The hobgoblin pawed at the sh’khuri but succeeded only in slicing its hand open. It toppled slowly backward. Blood shot high briefly, slowed, and stopped.

The second hobgoblin was trying to gain the entry and escape. Eddis brought up her sword, took two long steps to put herself squarely in the creature’s way, and thrust Flerys behind her. The priest was back in the hallway. He was armed, and a good fighting man, but if he was distracted by prayer, he’d be caught unawares and probably cut down. Not, Eddis thought grimly, while I’m here to prevent that. She was aware that Flerys had moved a pace to one side, could see the steady spear. But two of the Keep men knocked the brute flat from behind, swinging mace and morningstar in a smooth, precise maneuver. Before it could struggle to its feet, Blorys and Jerdren finished it off.

“Good work, people,” Jerdren said. He sounded out of breath.

“Noisy,” Blorys objected as he sheathed his dagger.

“Only in here, Brother. Panev said he’d make a silence spell back there, across the passage.”

Eddis glanced across her shoulder as the priest came into the open.

“Anything?” the ex-soldier asked.

“I saw the fight but heard none of it,” the priest replied. “Nothing is moving this way, just yet.”

“Good. Let’s be quick about this.” Jerdren turned on one heel as Kadymus came hurrying up, a clanking batch of heavy keys in his hands. “Fast work, lad,” he added, and the thief smiled.

“Was hanging just there, in plain sight,” he said, and to Eddis, he sounded smug and self-confident once more.

Leave be, she thought tiredly. If he’s cocky, he’s probably more use to us.

“Good,” Jerdren said. “Stay close. If these don’t work, we’ll need you and your lock-picks.”

“I’ll use ’em anyway,” Kadymus said. “Free ’em all so much the faster.”

“Good thinking.” Jerdren slapped the youth on the shoulder, staggering him, then turned to survey those chained to the far wall. “Only release the humans, though. We’ll need to be sure what the others will do, if we let ’em go.”

There were four humans, and two—a chubby older man and a ragged-looking woman with wild, staring eyes—couldn’t have been here long, Eddis decided. The man would’ve lost the belly straining at his filthy robe, the woman’s hair was still partly a mass of worked curls atop her head, though some of it was plastered to the side of her face and stiff with dried blood. The other two had the look of armsmen, though they wore only torn jerkins and trousers. Both were barefoot and bloody, but they looked alert enough as their eyes moved across the invaders.

Just beyond the merchant, an orc cringed away from the party, babbling or muttering in its own language. The gnoll stared fearfully at the far wall or at some nearer delusion, panting and licking its lips.

“We’re here to get you out,” Jerdren said. He began trying keys one after the other on the older man’s fetters.

“I know him!” one of the Keep men said. “He used to sell pottery in the Keep!”

“Get us… get us out, by all the gods, please get us out of here!” the man begged, his teeth chattering. “They’ll kill us, me and my wife!” He swallowed. “They keep saying they’ll kill us tonight, and… and there’s a b-banquet, and—”

“Don’t, man,” Blorys urged. “We’ll keep you from that, I swear it. Kadymus, free the lady, will you?”

“We… haven’t anything to give you.” The potter’s voice quavered. “They… took everything, but I have gold, a bag of it, I left it in the Keep. It’s all yours, every gold piece, if you’ll only—!”

“We don’t ask a reward,” Eddis said as she came up. “Just hold still, if you can. The manacles will come off faster.”

“We were guarding the merchant’s wagon,” one of the other prisoners said. “Bunch of those things came down on our camp, late at night. We didn’t have a chance. Free us, and we’ll serve you. Though I wouldn’t blame you for doubting we can fight, seeing where we are.”

“She just said,” Jerdren replied, a nod of his head to Eddis, “this isn’t for reward. Likely you’d do the same for us, but we can talk it over later, after you’re all safely out of here.”

The merchant’s wife seemed to come out of a half-swoon, and began shaking her head frantically. “Out of… no, you can’t, we can’t! If we even think about escape, they’ll… they said that they’d—” She broke into terrified, wracking sobs, and tears ran down her face.

Blorys caught the woman’s shoulders in a gentle grasp. “They can’t do anything, because we’ll be gone from here before they know you’ve escaped. The two who guarded you are dead. We’ll see you safely away from here, back to the Keep.”

The woman beat at him with soft little fists, and when her husband staggered the few paces to take her arm, she shook him off, her voice spiraling into hysteria.

“Here, let me have her,” Mead said. He drew the woman aside, speaking quietly. The shrill cries broke off suddenly, and when Mead turned to lead her back, she came willingly and quietly. Her eyes were unfocused, and the merchant eyed her, then the elf, with fear.

“I bespelled her. A simple and harmless charm. She feels none of the terror that crippled her mind, and now she believes herself safely home. I will waken her from that spell once we are far from these caves.” He beckoned to Jerdren. “That orc told my brother that he will aid us against the hobgoblins if we give him a weapon.”

“Oh?”

“I do not trust him, any more than you do, but to leave him here for other hobgoblins to find, and their two comrades dead on the floor…? Or that poor, mad thing,” he added, his eyes flicking toward the gnoll.

“I don’t trust either of them,” Blorys said, before his brother could speak, “but if you want to free them, mage, I’ll watch them. Neither looks strong enough to be a threat.”

“Don’t trust that,” Mead warned.

“We won’t.” Jerdren looked around the room. “We’ll have to take turns to lead the woman—or carry her. Anyone have spare daggers or spears for these two men?” In short order the two were armed with boar spears and a long dagger each. “Priest, still quiet out there?”

Panev smiled narrowly. “Of course it is, since the spell holds. Beyond it?” He walked out of sight, was back in moments. “Still quiet.”

“Good. Kadymus, free that gnoll. I’ll deal with the orc. Most of you get back over there, ready to move. Eddis, you and Blor stay here, help me keep an eye on these two until we’re certain they’re not up to some trick.”

Silence, as Jerdren fought the key into rusted locks. The gnoll hung limp in his restraints, but as soon as Kadymus jiggled the last lock and opened the final leg iron, the brute leaped forward, barking and giggling madly. It flung itself at the youth, who whipped out a pair of daggers, but went sprawling as it knocked him aside. M’Whan let it charge past him, then brought his spear around two-handed across the back of its head like a club, reversed his grip and plunged the point through its chest. The gnoll twitched feebly.

The orc stared at the fallen creature, fell back trembling as Jerdren freed it.

“Tell it, Willow,” the man said. “I haven’t the words for it. Tell it that it can earn a blade from us if it behaves. Ask if it knows the way out.”

A short exchange of guttural, clicking speech.

“It claims to,” Willow said. “What it says agrees with what Zebos told us.”

“Good. We go now, then,” Jerdren said. “Prisoners in the middle, and no stopping this side of that barred door!”

The passage to the main door was shorter than the one they’d just traversed, well-lit and smooth-floored and very quiet. The orc stayed well ahead, with two of the Keep men and Blorys watching it closely. The men traded off carrying the merchant’s wife once it became clear she was too weak to walk very fast, and Willow kept a supporting arm around the merchant’s shoulders. The two rescued guardsmen clutched their borrowed weapons, their heads moving constantly, jerkily, as if they expected an ambush momentarily. Fortunately, though they appeared to have been worse used by their captors, they had been stronger than the merchant or his wife to begin with, and even barefoot they managed to keep up with the company.

The lights were left behind, all at once. They stopped for a long moment while Mead and Kadymus went on to scout. Some long, anxious moments later, a door eased inward, creaking slightly and letting in a little daylight. The party hurried through the portal into a short cavern, waited for the mage and thief to close the way behind them.

If they can replace the bar on the inside of that door, somehow, Eddis thought, we’ll leave a pretty riddle for those monsters to sort out.

Willow had gone ahead to check the lay of the land, returning as Mead came away from the door.

“It is sealed,” Mead said quietly.

“It is very still out here,” Willow said. “We have come out partway up the south flank of the ravine and well west of where we went in. It is late afternoon. If we want to reach camp before sundown, we had better go now.”

Several long, tense moments later found them back on level ground. There was a path leading down, but it was steep, riddled with loose stones and thick with dust. The Keep men simply lifted the merchant off his feet between them and strode downhill, leaving the path entirely.

On the floor of the ravine once more, they made the best possible time they could through the trees, until the merchant finally sagged between his supporters, air whooping into his lungs. Jerdren called a halt, waited while Panev tested their surroundings for evil, then ordered a brief rest in the dark shade of a small, tight copse of trees. The orc sank down warily, its back to one of the trees, eyes flicking from one to the other of the company, most of whom were watching it as closely.

Eddis stayed on her feet, looking around. “Jers, we’re close to that door I marked earlier. I’m pretty sure we just passed it, back that way.”

“Think so?”

“Pretty sure. I think we should bring out those bags now, if we plan on getting them at all. Chances are that dead ogre hasn’t been discovered yet, so we can likely slip in, grab those bags, and get back here without a problem.”

“What if they’ve found him, though?” Blorys asked.

Eddis shrugged. “We left the door ajar. Sensible goblins would close and bar it again, wouldn’t they?”

“Unless they left it open as a trap,” he countered.

“Sure, but why would they? The way we left things, it looks as if he killed some of the goblins and was killed by them in turn, remember? Why would they expect someone to come back and spring such a trap? Besides, we fought hard for what’s in those sacks—including you, Blor. And you, Jers. If we wait another day or so, anyone walking through that guard room will know there’s a dead ogre in that den. And there goes our chance to retrieve any of those bags.”

Jerdren considered this. “Your call, Eddis. We need a proper rest here anyway, so it’s not like we’d be waiting for you.”

She looked over the rest of the company. “M’Whan and Willow?” The elf stood and drew his sword for answer. “And…”

“I’ll come,” Blorys said.

“And I.” Mead drew a slender wand from his belt and got to his feet.

“Good. Let’s go. And let’s get this much straight ahead of time—we’re not taking chances here, all right? If it looks wrong, we don’t go in. If we decide to go in, we grab what we left in hiding and get out, fast.” She glanced at M’Baddah, at Flerys sitting cross-legged close to him. The child’s eyes were closed, her head bobbing close to his shoulder. He glanced at the child himself, smiled faintly, and waved her on her way.

It was a little farther than she’d thought but not much. The door was still ajar, the chamber beyond utterly silent. Willow made them wait while he listened, but when they finally entered the den, there was nothing in sight but the dead ogre and his possessions, and the fallen goblins they’d dragged in to keep him company. Eddis kept guard at the inner door while the others worked to separate out the bags of coin, the brandy, and other things of value. Blorys came over to join her, then.

“We’ve got it all, I think. Let’s get out of here.” Eddis nodded and strode across the fetid chamber, only drawing a deep breath when she was finally outside.

They made it back to join the rest of their company and distributed the bags among those who’d be less vital in a fight, should anything fall on them between here and the camp.

The orc was still huddled on the ground, back braced against a gnarled tree. It looked up warily as Jerdren came over to stand before it, but the man merely dropped a dagger and a pair of silver coins at the creature’s feet.

“Tell it we kept our word, and tell it to go,” he said to Willow. “We will let it live if it does that.”

Willow spoke for some moments in the rough-sounding tongue. The orc replied briefly. Without another glance around at the humans and elves, it scrabbled for the blade and the coins, leaped to its feet, and raced off through the trees, heading farther up the ravine.

Jerdren turned away. “Let’s go. It’ll be dark soon, and this will be no place for us.”

As they came back into relatively open ground, a bowstring twanged from nearby. Willow gasped and fell bonelessly. A dark-fletched arrow quivered in his back. Jerdren urgently waved the ex-prisoners and those helping them back into the copse. Mead gazed in horror at his twin, then knelt to lay a hand against his throat.

“He is breathing,” the mage said unsteadily, “but I cannot—”

“Wait,” Panev said and gripped Mead’s forearm. “Find the ones who did this, lest we are all killed here. I will save your brother.”

The mage swallowed hard. Trembling fingers sought something in a small pouch at his belt and drew it out. He closed his eyes and concentrated, tears slipping silently down his face.

“Tree,” he mouthed to Jerdren. “There! Up above us!” He drew back as M’Whan and M’Baddah moved into position. They had seen what Mead had found. Half a breath after, two arrows tore through the leaves and branches from opposite sides. With a gurgling cry, an orc fell to the ground and lay in a still huddle, M’Baddah’s arrow deep in its chest, M’Whan’s nearly as deep in its back.

“That it? Just one?” Jerdren whispered.

Mead nodded. His dark eyes, his whole attention, was fixed on his fallen brother who lay as still as the dead orc.

Panev had drawn a small wooden box from his belt-pouch, and, having prayed over the contents, he sprinkled a few grains of a yellowish powder all around the arrow. Head bowed over the slender elf, he remained still for some time, praying in a breathy whisper. Mead started, hand outstretched in protest as the priest slowly withdrew the arrow. The priest’s other hand clamped down on the mage’s arm.

Eddis watched, astonished. Willow was still breathing in shallow gasps, but the outpouring of blood didn’t follow the point. Willow fetched a deep breath, let it out on a sigh, and seemed to sleep. The priest sat back on his heels, his face gray with exhaustion.

“You… restored his life?” Jerdren whispered.

“No,” Panev replied softly. “Though I think he would have died quickly, without what I used.” He sighed. “Mind no one else takes such a blow between now and morning, because I cannot use that powder again this day.”

“We’re going, now,” Jerdren informed him.

They reached the campsite not long before the sun set. A cool wind sprang up as the last rays of sun left the treetops, and Eddis pulled her cloak close. Two of the Keep men went for water and another built a fire in the second pit, over the trove they’d already buried. Jerdren set another to dig out the other. There were two spare blankets and an extra cloak to share out for those they’d rescued. The merchant and his still-bespelled wife were huddled together under the cloak, close to the fire, the two guards each wrapped in a blanket. M’Baddah, Mead, and the priest tended to wounds and the torn bare feet of the rescued guards.

There was hard bread to begin with and a thin soup once the fire was properly going. Willow woke long enough to drink a little broth and eat the bread his brother held for him, then fell asleep once more. The merchant and his wife lay sleeping close to the fire.

“They are exhausted only, I think,” Mead said, “and afraid. The armsmen will be all right.”

“If we can send them back to the Keep, they’ll recover,” Jerdren agreed. He raised his voice a little to include all the company. “That was good work today, all of you. By tomorrow evening, our horses should be back here. Any of you wants to go with ’em, there’s no shame in that, and you’ve earned your share of what we’ve found so far. But I say we’ve got a rest coming. We’ll stay here tomorrow.” He glanced at Eddis, who nodded.

“Sensible,” she said. “We can use the time to upgrade your map and plan our next move.”

“I thought so,” he said. “How’s the arm?”

“Just stiff.” She glanced at him. “We’ve found a fair amount of treasure so far. Maybe we should send it back with the merchant and his wife, lodge it with the castellan?”

“You think that’s wise?” Blorys asked. “I mean, the man’s honest, but what if we finish up here and for some reason some of us would rather not return to the Keep? Makes sense to me not to keep everything out here, of course. It could be found by accident—someone coming by and digging the ash out of the fire pit, going a little too deep. Or if something followed us back here and saw where we’d buried their coins and such? Eddis is right though. There’s a fair amount of gold and all and that after just two days. Maybe we’re lucky, but maybe there’s that much more, back there. In which case, we’d be wise to send some back to be locked in Ferec’s vaults. Make certain we’ll all get a fair share, whichever way we go.”

Jerdren considered this, finally nodded. “Makes sense. We’ll do that.” He looked at Eddis. “So. What’s next?”

“Why ask me?” she said gloomily. “You may as well toss M’Baddah’s fortune-sticks and ask them. Still, we know there’s more caves, we’ve seen some of the openings, and what Zebos told Blor bears that out. It’s odd, though. Kobolds, hobgoblins, orcs, and goblins all living that close together. From what I’ve always heard, they’d be warring with each other, and it would be nasty and brutish. But so far, all we’ve seen is barred doors and guards.”

“Maybe someone’s brought them together,” Blorys suggested.

Jerdren laughed shortly. “Why anyone would—”

“Why not, Brother? Some warlord ousted from another land. Maybe even a powerful sorcerer who’s been chased off by others of his kind. Someone who wants to rule the lands hereabout, possibly take over the Keep—maybe eventually rule all the realm.” He looked at Jerdren, who grinned and gestured for him to go on. “It just seems to me that anyone with such ambitions and half a brain wouldn’t flaunt himself right under the castellan’s nose the way those bandits did. You’d want time to build a fighting force, time to acquire funds to buy weapons—all that.”

Jerdren considered this but finally smiled and shook his head.

Blorys sighed gustily. “Don’t discount the idea. Probably it’s wild and foolish both, but I’m just saying it’s possible.”

“I won’t, Brother,” Jerdren assured him. “Not here. Only a fool would do that, and I’m foolhardy—according to you, anyway. But even you wouldn’t say I’m foolish.”