Return of the Exile

18 Egg Hunt

The next day the Legionnaires moved them to another place in a different part of the city to avoid drawing attention to movement around the abandoned house. They were led through backstreets and dark alleys to a door leading down into a deeper cellar where ale barrels stood empty and a few wine casks still sat on their racks. Several cheeses and an old ham hung from the ceiling beams and a bin of dried apples sat close to a wooden stairs that led up to a public house.

“It’s the Orchard House,” Linsha exclaimed. “I remember the proprietors. Delightful people, and the wife made the best apple pies.”

“Why thank ye, Lady Knight. I remember you, too. Always paid your bill.” A gray-haired woman leaned down from the upstairs door and squinted at her secret guests in the dim light of a single lantern. “There’s not much left down there. The Tarmaks killed my man and ate me out of house and cellar. But you’re welcome to anything you find. Just keep it quiet while there’s customers in the bar.”

Linsha and Mae waved their agreement and thanks, and the old woman stepped back and closed the door behind her.

“She said you can stay down here for a few days while we gather the weapons and work out the details,” Mae said. “We have some men in hiding from the Tarmaks we will send to you to help. Do you know what you want to do for a diversion?”

“How are the Tarmaks organized to handle fires?” asked Linsha.

“They have our old fire fighting equipment—the ladders, the buckets, and the one hand pump. But we always counted on Iyesta to help us put out any fires in the city, so there is very little available to them. It’s rained so much lately, I don’t think they’ve given it much thought.”

“Good. Is there a warehouse where they are storing anything worth burning?”

Mae’s eyes twinkled and the laugh lines appeared around her nose and mouth. “They have a lot of their stores in a warehouse near the waterfront, but it’s really too close to the guild building to be a good distraction. There is another one over in Mirage where they have stored much of the wine and spirits they stole from the farmers and merchants.”

Linsha looked at Callista who grinned. Mirage was the name of the newer section of the city where many of the offices, warehouses, and shops connected to the harbor were located. The older guild buildings were mostly in the older city in the Port District.

“Wine and spirits,” the courtesan said. “That should burn well.”

Linsha looked down at the cat in her arms and winked.

Three days later a cloudbank rolled up out of the south and settled over the Missing City in a dank, gray gloom. Darkness came early that night, and the citizens of the city hurried back to their homes and their meager meals, leaving the streets to the Tarmak patrols. By midnight, the streets were almost deserted.

Few people saw the large shape in the sky and no one saw where it came from. It swooped down from the clouds and hovered silently over Mirage for a moment. There was a brilliant streak of light like lightning, a thin clap of thunder, and the shape was gone as suddenly as it appeared. None of the Tarmaks who saw it could identify it because of the clouds and fog, but a few guessed it was a blue dragon from the burst of lightning. Others doubted they had seen it at all. It was probably just an errant storm cloud. What they couldn’t doubt was the sound of warning bells. Smoke was rising from a warehouse in Mirage. Within moments the smoke became billows and the flames licked high through the roof. A massive explosion rocked the building and sent flaming debris flying in all directions. Smaller fires ignited on the roofs of nearby buildings and on a storage shed filled with fodder. Alarms bells rang throughout the city.

The Tarmak dekegul in charge of the city’s forces collected his men and marched out of the old city to the harbor district to fight the fires. He took several dozen slaves with him to help, but he left the slaves in the large pen by the guild houses under guard, deciding they would be more trouble than it would be worth to take them along. They had a bad habit of trying to escape.

The prisoners were sheltered in a series of pens and stables that had once been a livestock market. Seeing the glow on the rooftops, they came out of their stalls to observe what was happening and were startled to see two women brazenly approach the pair of guards at the main gate. Both women were cloaked, and one carried a pie. One of the prisoners, a thin, haggard young man dressed in rags, nearly choked himself on a cry of recognition.

The taller woman said something in Tarmakian that caused the guards to laugh. She walked forward, arguing in a loud voice and gesturing with the pie as if she wanted to give it to someone. Just as the guards reached for the pie, she heaved it into the face of the nearest guard. The two women acted at the same time. The smaller one pulled out a crossbow from under her cloak and shot the second guard while the tall one pulled two throwing knives out of her belt and killed the guard with pie in his face and a third guard that came running.

Suddenly there was a swarm of movement all around the slave pen. Dark clad men slipped in to kill the remaining Tarmak guards quietly and quickly, and before the slaves really knew what was happening their rescuers threw open the gates and urged them to come out.

Linsha dashed into the pens. “Sir Hugh!” she called softly. “Are you here?”

Laughing and crying at once, the thin man in the rags came forward to hug her. “Gods, Linsha, I thought you were dead!” he cried. “And Callista! You are a sight for tired eyes. And… who are you?” he asked when a tall, blond man came to stand by Linsha.

“Lord Hogan Bight, this is Sir Hugh Bronan, Knight of Solamnia. Sir Hugh, this is the Lord Governor of Sanction. But you might know him better as Crucible.”

The knight blinked. He knew he was tired and sick and not at his best and brightest, but surely she didn’t mean what she said.

“It’s a long story,” she said dryly. “But now we need your help—all of you. We are stealing some brass dragon eggs that the Tarmaks took from Iyesta. If you help us, we will do our best to help you get out of town and join Falaius’s army that is headed this way.”

The slaves, made up mostly of prisoners of war, cheered raggedly. A few melted silently away into the darkness to make their own way out of the city, but the majority—nearly twenty men and centaurs—stayed. They quickly stripped the dead guards of all their weapons and dragged the bodies into the stalls. They also liberated a few horses housed in the stable. With a little luck the Tarmaks would be too busy to notice the pens were empty of slaves until it was too late.

Four male elves approached Linsha and Lord Bight and bowed low. “We will go with you,” the eldest said, “for no dragon eggs should be held by these Brutes. But once we are out of the city, we would like to go on to Silvanesti.”

Recognizing them as Qualinesti elves, Linsha returned their bow. “You may stay with us as long you wish. But you should know that the Knights of Neraka hold your kinsmen’s Forest.”

“Yes.” The speaker sighed. “We learned that the hard way. We were trying to escape from the Dark Knights when the Brutes caught us just outside Mem-Ban.”

Mem-Ban was another village located on the border between Iyesta’s realm and the Silvanesti Forest, not far from the King’s Road.

The elves, Linsha noted, were all young and had the look of warriors about them. She guessed they were stragglers from the main body of elves that had crossed the desert some time ago. Perhaps they had stayed behind in Qualinesti as part of a rear guard and only recently reached the Forest. What a welcome they had received, she thought.

Gathering together the freed slaves and the Legion men, Linsha led her small band toward the stone building that once housed the Treasurer’s Guild. The building was constructed from the image of the original two-story edifice that had stood in the old elven city of Gal Tra’Kalas. It was an elegant design with large windows, columns on the front portico, and spacious rooms for the guild members to meet and socialize. Beneath the guildhouse was a large vault, waterproof and strong, built specifically to hold the steel and coins of the city treasury and the personal funds of the members of the guild. The treasury had been stripped, Linsha knew, and much of the steel, gold, and silver had been sent to Ithin’carthia or spent by the Tarmaks on weapons, ships, and mercenaries. The only things of value in the vault now were the eggs. Or so Linsha hoped. She had not seen the eggs since the very brief viewing Lanther had allowed her before they sailed. But their placement looked permanent, and Mae had said the Keena were still using the place. Surely the eggs were still there.

In the deep shadows of an adjacent workshop across the street, Linsha and her company found Mae and the other two Legionnaires waiting for her. Looking pleased with themselves, they opened the wide doors of the shop and revealed a wagon hitched to two horses. Mae pulled back the canvas and revealed bows, which the elves and the centaurs happily took, and some swords and axes for the others. They also had a large bundle wrapped with canvas resting in the back of the wagon.

Linsha outlined their plan to the released slaves and watched in satisfaction as they spread out to obey her orders. Mae and Callista climbed into the wagon and took the reins to wait for the signal. For a few minutes, Linsha, Sir Hugh, and Lord Bight waited in the darkness for the attackers to take their position.

In that quiet moment before the attack, Linsha listened to every sound and she heard something she had not noticed before. Sir Hugh was having difficulty breathing. His lungs wheezed with every breath, and he was trying very hard to stifle a cough.

She moved close and said softly, “You are not well. Stay in the wagon with Callista. I will not lose you now.”

His teeth shone pale against his bearded face as he smiled. “I have a cold. That is all. You will not deprive me of a little revenge for these past wretched days. Besides, seeing you has given me strength. You must tell me what has happened, and why you say that man is Crucible.”

“Fair enough,” she agreed. She pulled up her hood. “Ready? Stay behind me, both of you.”

Tilting her chin up to its most arrogant angle, she stifled the nervousness in her stomach and marched out of the shop and into the street. The fire had been a distraction for the warriors in the city, but Linsha and the two men were to be the distraction for the priests and guards at the guildhouse. She walked boldly up the middle of the street where the Tarmaks could plainly see her. She behaved as if she had every right to be there and knew exactly what she wanted. It had worked before.

“Orgwegul!” she shouted in Tarmakian before the guards could challenge her. “Where is the orgwegul?”

The guards by the front door hurriedly conversed, then shouted something inside. A heavily-armed officer came out. “I am the orgwegul,” he said. “Do not come any closer, woman.”

Linsha threw back her hood and revealed her face and hair. “You will use a more respectful tone to the Chosen of the Akkad-Dar,” she snapped. “I am the Drathkin’kela and I have come to see the eggs.”

The guards straightened and lost the sneering expressions on their faces. “The Akkad-Dar has returned?” the officer demanded.

“Of course,” Linsha replied as if it were perfectly obvious. “He came ahead on a faster ship. We landed just a little while ago. But he is busy at the fires, and he gave me permission to see the eggs. I have the key.” She pulled the key out on its chain and held it up for him to see.

“And who are those two?” he sneered, eyeing the disreputable looking men behind her.

“My slaves and bodyguards, of course. They were all that was left. Everyone else is fighting the fire.”

The Tarmak officer stared thoughtfully at the distant glow on the roofs of the buildings in the distance. He could not see the harbor from where he was standing, so he could not confirm that a new ship had arrived. But he recognized the auburn-haired woman and the key to the egg vault. “Very well,” he grunted. “You may approach.”

Just then a black-garbed Keena stepped out onto the portico. “What is going on here?” he demanded.

Linsha and her bodyguards moved closer while the officer explained her errand. She held up the key for the priest to see.

But he didn’t look at her. He shot a look in the direction of the harbor. “But that can’t be,” he said, confused. “The Akkad-Dar’s ship was spotted just a little while ago. He couldn’t have landed yet.”

Linsha felt as if someone had just kicked her in the stomach. Lanther was coming! By all the absent gods, how did he get here this fast? Her anger blew high. He was not going to deprive her of those eggs. Not when she was this close.

“Now!” she bellowed. She, Hugh, and Lord Bight threw themselves to the ground as a flight of arrows flew past them. The three Tarmak guards and the priest were killed instantly. Linsha rolled over and unstrapped the two swords she had carried behind her back. She tossed one to Hugh. Behind her she heard shouts and the clash of weapons. Bows twanged and someone screamed. There was a rumble of wooden wheels on stone paving, and she knew the wagon was on its way. Half a dozen freed Legionnaires and the elves ran out of the darkness and joined them.

“Come on!” she yelled to Hugh and clambered to her feet.

“What about him?” Hugh shouted, pointing to Lord Bight, who stood quietly on the street.

Linsha grinned. “He’s busy.”

Linsha and Hugh dashed into the building, followed by the men and elves. They met immediate resistance in the long central hallway where the guards and priests were charging out of various rooms and side halls. The small company fought well, but there were more Tarmaks than Linsha expected and this was taking too long. She ducked into a side room and signaled to her forces to fall back.

“Down!” she yelled. “Take cover!” Then she shouted out the door, “Now, Crucible! Now!”

The fighting abruptly stopped as a large draconic head appeared in the door. The Tarmaks and humans alike gaped in surprise. The dragon inhaled, and the humans and elves dropped to the floor. A brilliant white light shot down the hall and exploded on the Tarmaks. Once, twice, and again Crucible fired his breath weapon over the heads of the attackers, wiping out clusters of Tarmak warriors and priests. Smoke curled from the walls and the hall filled with the stench of burning wood, scorched stone, and cooked flesh. The hallway became silent.

More of Linsha’s men ran in the door. “The guards are dead outside,” a Legionnaire reported.

“Let’s get the eggs,” she said tersely. “Lanther is coming.” She caught Hugh staring at Crucible’s form just outside the portico.

“Where did he come from?” the knight asked in astonishment.

She just laughed, a sharp, edgy sound of tense humor. “I’ll tell you later.”

The company of egg hunters continued through the building to the stairs that led down to the vault. More Tarmaks attacked them, but there were very few warriors left, and those were disorganized and scattered. The Legionnaires and the few militiamen spread out to find the remaining guards while Linsha and her group hurried downstairs. They entered a stone hallway and found the way barred by half a dozen Keena priests. The black-robed Keenas held round bucklers and short swords.

This would be good time for some of Afec’s sleeping powder, Linsha thought. Without that, they would just have to do it the hard way.

“Back away!” she yelled down the stairs. “All we want are the eggs!”

A priest yelled something back that Linsha did not have to translate to the others.

The elves fired a barrage of arrows down the steps that wounded a priest, killed another, and scattered the rest. Under cover of the arrows, Linsha and her men charged down the stairs. The remaining priests fought zealously, but they were outnumbered by the ferocious rebels. The fighting was hard and bitter in such close quarters, and when it was over the priests and four of Linsha’s company were dead.

Cursing, she plunged her sword into the throat of the last priest and stepped over his body. She drew out of the key and thrust it into the lock, praying it would work. It did. The key turned, the lock opened, and the door swung open. A wave of heat washed over her. She caught a glimpse of firelight and glowing braziers when a hand reached through the door and grabbed her sword arm. A second hand clamped to her face and wrenched her inside. The door slammed shut behind her.

Pain exploded in her head.