Chapter 5: Secrets in the Storm     Chapter 7: Siege of Castle Wrigley

 

Chapter 6: The Price of Hunger

 

The other tunnel, in the caves under the mountain Pent and company had fled to during the snowstorm, was a lot wetter and rougher. They came across a small trickle of water disappearing into a crack in the floor, and followed it back into the darkness.

It led into a warren of tunnels, all leading into each other and absolutely confusing.

“Wait,” Caddie said suddenly. “What’s that noise?”

It was faint, somewhere in the back of the maze. It sounded like distant sobbing.

“Who’s there?” Pent called.

There was no answer.

“Let’s continue. We’ll see if we find anything.”

“Right, and let’s split up into three groups. George, Cavven, Lence, head left. Andy, Frank, Pent, stay centre. Caddie, Albert, Priscilla, Fiora, go right.” Ceniro himself followed Pent, keeping a close eye on his farseer.

They wound their way through the caves slowly, finding nothing at first. The sobbing grew louder for the men and women who had gone down the right-hand path, and they told Ceniro about it.

“Let me know if you find anyone, all right?”

“Right, we- ah!” Fiora broke off in the middle of her sentence with a cry of concern.

“What is it?”

“We found someone in a corner… a young man, blue hair, blue armour, horse. He’s huddled up in the dark, crying to himself. Priscilla is going to talk to him.”

“We’ll come as fast as we can. Stay there.”

There was the sound of sudden movement and cries through the farseer. Ceniro began to run, Pent right behind him. The two cavaliers followed as well as they could.

“Look out!” Pent cried, keeping Ceniro from bashing his head against a low ceiling as the tactician checked his farseer to see that they were going in the right direction. “Careful, there.”

“Thanks!”

They came to a small cavern with a deep pit on one side. Against the right wall, opposite the pit, crouched a handsome young knight, his sword bared and his horse patiently sitting beside him. Priscilla was leaning against Fiora, blood running down her arm. Caddie was in front of both women, axe forward.

“I do apologize for striking a woman,” the knight was mumbling. “But are you a woman or a snow-demon? Blood-red hair, green eyes, white cloak… you are her, aren’t you?”

Pent strode to Priscilla and healed her with a touch of his staff. “Who are you?” he asked the knight.

“…Doesn’t matter. I have to find the jewel before those snow demons eat me. Reglay should be coming soon. Are you Reglay?”

“Yes, I-“

“No, you’re not! You’re one of them!” The knight lunged forward, and Pent twisted away. His lavender cloak tore with the thrust of the knight’s sword.

Pent reversed the twist and slammed his elbow into the knight’s jaw. The young man fell heavily. His horse heaved itself up, but Albert quickly went to it and tried to calm it down. Pent felt his forehead. “He has a fever. That would explain-“

The young man rolled away and quickly scrambled up again. “You can’t stop me, Reglay! He said I had to get it myself. If I could show him I had it, he would be the first to give me glory. And riches. I could be a lord, a lord on my own account! His friend has land and to spare for a new young lord.”

“…Aren’t you Rhost, General Douglas’s knight? Who are you talking about?”

“Yes, I am Rhost, Knight of Aquleia. I can’t allow anyone else to get it. Lorad is evil. Count Reglay is not to be trusted. I am the only one who must reach it! When General Douglas sees it, he’ll be so pleased he’ll – I don’t know what he’ll do. But when I’m a lord I can make Lorad stop bothering the young troubadours and stop fighting with General Douglas’s squire – I can do all kinds of things! And then I’ll invite you to my castle – my castle! – and you can study it away as much as you like. As long as you don’t take it, because then I would have nothing again. He told me you are not to be trusted, anyway.”

“Lorad is dead, so you don’t have to feel responsible for that anymore,” Pent told him gently. “If you would join us, if you would help me, I could show you I am trustworthy. And Douglas is worried about you. He’d be happy to know you’re safe. I can tell him you’re all right. Just let me-“ He began to reach for the contact staff on the pack-horse Andy was bringing up.

“No! Don’t- don’t put sleep on me!”

“I think we should knock him out,” Ceniro said in a low voice. “Keep him from hurting us or himself, and make it easier to talk to him…”

Rhost lunged for his sword, his face dangerous. “You won’t get me! Stay away!” He was surrounded by Andy, Frank, Fiora, and Ceniro, all waving lance-hafts or, in Ceniro’s case, his sturdy wooden staff, at him. “You’re all turned evil! I’m a knight! I’m not evil!”

He suddenly lunged at Pent, tripped over Fiora’s lance, but this time managed to stab Pent in the shoulder just below Pent’s semi-decorative pauldron as the lord ducked away. The knight quickly rebounded to his feet, spinning, and tried again. Pent put out his hand and a wall of ice formed between them.

“Rhost,” he said quietly, “you’ve gone mad. Just settle down and let us talk.”

Rhost said nothing, hacking at the wall of ice until it shattered. He leapt through the gap, throwing away his notched sword, and grappled with Pent, knocking them both to the floor. It was clear that Pent, though no weakling, was quickly losing ground to the trained knight, especially with his shoulder. Fiora and Frank grabbed him and pulled him off bodily. Rhost wrenched himself away from them, throwing Frank to the ground as he did so, dodged a tackle from Andy, and charged Pent again, who had just picked himself up. Pent dodged again, tiredly, but Rhost somehow missed him and went hurtling into the black chasm beside the path without a sound…

“No!” cried Ceniro, lunging forward himself, but he was too late and Caddie had to grab him, too, in case he went over the edge.

There was a faint crunch from the black pit.

The eight stared at each other in shock.

“No, oh, no no no,” Ceniro groaned in deepest despair from Caddie’s grasp. “I’ve failed, I’ve failed…”

 

“Well, Pent, it’s been an interesting day,” Douglas said that evening through the contact staff as the group camped near the mouth of the cave. They had found nothing else in the maze. “I came across Ocery harassing Arcard again, though Arcard is staying well away from all this. I have been told he’s been talking to Aldash, however. Ocery left by wyvern for the mountains, so you’ll have him to deal with tomorrow or the day after.”

“Fabulous,” Pent said sarcastically. “He could actually be a problem. He had better not disturb the sanctuary of Saint Elimine that we found today.”

“You what?”

Pent smiled and told him all about it, including some arcane details that Ceniro couldn’t follow. Apparently Douglas couldn’t, either.

“Well, that’s all very interesting, and I’m sure King Mordred will be delighted to hear it. Oh, and I met Roartz, who told me not to worry about Ocery so much. I think his faith is misplaced, but I’ll trust him for now. I also met Bishop Yodel-“ Ceniro heard a sudden smothered hysterical giggle from someone in camp, probably Andy, “-and he says that Eshan is perfectly trustworthy.”

“Does he?” Pent asked incredulously.

“Very much so. Apparently he managed to convince Yodel that his intentions are perfectly honourable. But King Mordred was satisfied, and said, ‘Well, I’m glad that I don’t have to worry about him quarreling with all of you now’.”

“I suppose we don’t have to worry about him until we get back, then. Oh, I almost forgot, in all the excitement… Louise is worried about Lesil. Apparently he’s been bothering her to the point of nervous breakdown. Could you, perhaps, send someone nice to say hello to her in the next couple of days? Preferably someone kind with lots of muscle who could give Yens a hand.”

“You expect trouble?”

“I’m starting to expect trouble everywhere. And it’s Ceniro’s advice.”

“Ah. Well. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Douglas… there’s one more thing I have to tell you. …We found Rhost.”

 

The next day, after they had rested long, they ventured outside into the white wasteland, and the cavaliers, the pegasus knight, and the troubadour all mounted again. Rhost’s horse they took with them, Ceniro putting George on it for the moment. It was much harder for the foot soldiers to move through the landscape, though the forest on the lower slopes of the mountains was sparse in that area. The lighter magic-users were not so greatly hindered, and it was Albert who found the next promising cave.

This one had a small stream that would have been trickling out of its mouth into a bed of ferns, but for the fact that it was frozen and there were no ferns. Inside were fantastic natural rock formations, also slippery. Past that for quite a way there was nothing more interesting than an uneven pebbly floor. The stream disappeared.

This tunnel was long, very long, and it did not branch, though it wound quite a bit and the ceiling went from low to high to low again.

Some twenty minutes later, they rounded the corner and halted in their tracks as they saw the next chamber.

It was the first definite sign of human work. It was large and square, with a high vaulted roof. Right at the entrance of the room the floor became tiled instead of pebbly. Ahead was a flight of stairs up a series of three daises, and on the top dais was a small square pillar, two feet tall and about eight inches square. Carvings marked its sides, mostly words, but some images as well.

On the top of the pillar rested a large violet orb, reflecting the light of Priscilla’s torch staff.

“That’s it!” Pent exclaimed. “I can feel it. Can you feel it?”

“It is… marvelous,” Albert whispered, and Lence nodded emphatically. Priscilla’s eyes were closed, with a look of awe on her face.

The soldiers with horses mounted, except for George – he had said he felt more comfortable on foot, and only rode Rhost’s horse outside for the sake of staying with the group more easily. The others quickly lit the torches that stood throughout the room: one at each corner of each dais, and two on each wall. The room was brilliantly lit by the time they had done. Pent still stood at the foot of the stairs, looking up at the jewel with a boy-like expression of wonder and joy. “It’s amazing. I don’t know how you could forget such a beautiful thing. But an old friend of mine, who once knew a great deal about it, has forgotten almost all but the fact that it exists. ‘That thing?’ he said once to me; ‘I’d forgotten it must be still around somewhere. I know the Scouring could not have been won without it.’ I guess he’s been thinking of other things…”

Then troops came running into the room behind them, dozens of them: lance-men and axe-men and swords-men and archers and a couple mages as well. They were all well armoured and well armed, all with the crest of Duke Ocery on their chests.

“We’ll hold them off, my lord!” Fiora cried, leaping to the defense with her pegasus blocking a great part of the upper stairs. Ceniro was suddenly vividly reminded of Kent, the knight of Caelin, in those words, although he didn’t think Kent had ever said those exact words. Pent turned and sprinted for the pedestal with the jewel.

The charge of the enemy soldiers was fierce, and soon everyone had their hands full fighting enemies, even the tactician, who was really just trying to stay back, his farseer in one hand and his staff in the crook of his other elbow. Then an axe-fighter slipped past Andy and swung wildly at the young strategist.

Ceniro took a step back, brought up his staff to block awkwardly with one hand-

The axe clove the staff in two as if it was a twig, the staff that Lyn had gifted him, and the edge of the axe grazed his throat-

The tactician dropped to his knees, the farseer and staff falling from his hands as his short cry of surprise trailed off into a gurgle. Pent looked back, his name on his lips…

Caddie took a sword blow to the back and fell, his spine severed just above the pelvis. The soldier who had wounded him took his sword in both hands, a triumphant smile lighting up his face, and Cavven sprang in front of him, catching the killing blow on his sword. The boy continued fighting against both Caddie’s opponents as well as the one he had been fighting before.

Andy was pulled from his horse, a lance in his side.

“We’ll hold them off, my lord…” Fiora cried again, desperately, but soldiers were pouring through the gap in the middle, heading straight for Pent and George. Pent had just reached out and taken the jewel from the plinth on which it rested when a spear-haft fell across his back and knocked him down.

And then everyone stopped. Albert and Lence were stretched out together, helpless under the lances of six soldiers. Frank was being held firmly by three big men away from his brother, who was sprawled on the dais with his blood pooling under him. Fiora had frozen with three archers training their bows on her, and Priscilla was cowering, knocked from her mare, at the back under the hard gaze of a very large axe-man. Cavven had just been knocked down, covered in cuts and gashes, and Caddie still lay helpless on his face, unable to move. George slumped against the plinth, wounded; unconscious or dead, it was hard to tell which.

And the young tactician lay still and unmoving, facedown at the foot of the paladin in blue armour, his silver farseer a few inches away from his body.

“Well, Pent,” said the paladin to the count, who was kneeling beside the plinth with the purple jewel in his hand, “that was enjoyable, but you’ve lost.”

Pent didn’t answer, staring blankly at the plinth.

“Pent? Did you hear me? Hand over the jewel, now, and I’ll let you live. Maybe.”

“Το OH ιερό Ashura, στη θεία φρόνηση και το έλεός δικά σου,” chanted Pent in a low voice, stretching out with his other hand to touch the words carved onto the plinth, “ακούει τώρα την προσευχή μου. Θεραπεύστε εκείνων που έχουν τραυματιστεί, και τους διαθέστε όλων από το θάνατο. Στο όνομα του πιό ταπεινού υπαλλήλου σας… Άγιος Elimine!”

With the last words, he held the jewel up high, and it blazed suddenly with light, piercing white light that flooded the cavern’s brighter than all the torches.

“My eyes!” gasped the paladin, and a great many of his soldiers likewise, as they stumbled away, shielding their eyes from the light of the gem.

Pent stood and reached down to George, who took his hand and stood beside him. Frank leapt forward and gently lifted his brother as he gasped and opened his eyes, the spear vanished and his wound healed.

Pent walked slowly to where his young tactician lay and placed a hand on his shoulder. Ceniro stirred, weakly, and the sage pulled him strongly to his feet, smiling.

Ceniro reached for his throat, his eyes wide with amazement, and then bent and picked up the farseer. “It’s broken,” he said after a moment. “I’m sorry.”

Pent laughed outright, putting the stone in a pouch, and pulled the shorter man into a hug. “You’re alive, silly goose! You had me worried for a moment, there.”

“Me too,” said Ceniro, laughing shakily, returning the hug. “Where is everyone?”

“We’re all here,” said George, gently, “and the enemy is all over there, trying to adjust their eyes. We have a few seconds to get ready.”

“Right,” said Ceniro. “Andy, Frank, I need you and Fiora over here with Priscilla right behind you. I need magic right behind them, and you two over here-” pointing at George and Caddie “-and you over here.” He pointed at Caddie. He himself went and stood beside Pent in the centre, just behind Priscilla. His heart was pounding. But it was still beating.

“All right. Our objective is break out and get into the tunnel, where we can pick our fights a bit better. Be careful of that Ocery; he’s very dangerous. We might have to take him down with magic. Okay, go!”

They charged, and some of the opposing soldiers had recovered, but not enough. Andy, Frank, and Fiora drove a wedge through them straight to the exit. Fiora’s pegasus took a nasty lance stab, but Priscilla right behind her raised her staff and the wound was healed.

Ocery was one of those who had recovered, and he tried to get in front, but he was too far away. He was, however, one of the first on their heels as they fled a short way down the passage. They had forgotten their torches, but Priscilla traded her heal staff for her torch staff and Pent sent a flaming wall of fire blazing up between the two sides, giving Ceniro a brief chance to reorganize his line.

“He’s alive! How is he alive?” he heard men on the other side of the wall shouting. He wondered who they were talking about, whether it was himself or someone else who had gone down while he was fatally wounded. “Jordan cut his throat!” Well, it was most likely him himself.

“You didn’t kill him properly, you idiots!” Ocery raged. “Obviously the jewel will restore someone to life if there’s the least bit of life left. Cut off his head next time! I’ll show you how.”

They were a little bit trapped by the fact that the ceiling lowered in the tunnel at that point, so the mounted soldiers could not pass through without dismounting. Ceniro put Frank and Fiora together on one side with their javelins ready to throw, and George and the magic users behind Caddie and Cavven and Andy on the other side. Then they were ready.

Ocery charged right into the middle of them, nearly cracking his helmeted head on the ceiling. Ceniro panicked for a moment and ducked away lower into the tunnel as the huge armoured force came straight at him, but the concentrated force of all the attacks on the paladin soon took their toll. Black-coloured elder magic from Lence anchored the duke’s horse to the cave floor; George’s arrow bounced off his armour, but the javelins from Frank and Fiora struck more deeply. Caddie, Cavven, and Andy were busy with other enemy soldiers. Albert’s lightening blasted Ocery’s armour; Pent simply called up Elfire. Ocery had scored deep hits on Lence and Frank, but Priscilla was able to staunch the worst of it, juggling her staves with surprising ability.

Ocery tumbled to the ground off his horse, groaning. The enemy soldiers’ attack was fierce for a minute, but then began to fade as they saw their leader vanquished.

Pent knelt beside the duke. “Sorry, Ocery, but you were definitely trying to kill us.”

“No apology necessary, Pent. I was definitely trying to kill you. I was warned about you. I thought I was strong enough to take it from you. I was wrong.” Ocery coughed blood. “Don’t bother healing me. I couldn’t bear the shame.”

“We can’t just let you die,” Pent said, reaching for his pouch.

Ocery reached up and grabbed Pent’s collar with surprising strength. “Don’t heal me. Heal my men. Take them home with you. Entrust them to my son. He’ll do a better job of ruling Deis than I did, I hope. Let me die. I have done.” Ocery’s eyes closed and his head rolled back, not yet dead, but exhausted. Pent pressed his hand.

“I will do as you say, Ocery. Blessing of St. Elimine be on you.”

Ocery smiled and died.

Pent stood. “Well, did you hear that? Come and bring your injured, even your dead, and I will see what I can do.”

Priscilla and Pent went among the Deis soldiers, healing those they could.

“I will lead you back to Deis, as Ocery commanded,” Pent said after they had finished. “I don’t expect you to love me; I only expect you not to stab me in the back. Is that satisfactory?”

One man, the captain of the group, stepped forward. “You’ve been a worthy and honourable adversary, Count Reglay. We will follow you to Deis.”

“Well, let’s go, then.” Pent turned and led the way out of the cave, back to the snow and clear cold air.

 

Chapter 5: Secrets in the Storm     Chapter 7: Siege of Castle Wrigley