Into the Wastelands: Book Four of the Restoration Series (2 page)

Looking slightly irritated, Agminion nodded. “Don’t be foolish, of course you can trust him.”

“Does he know who we are?” Heather asked, trying to keep her voice low.

“Of course I know who you are,” the old man called from the front of the small group.

Heather grimaced. She had thought that she had been quiet enough not to be heard.

The old man stopped and turned back to face them. “Young lady, my name is Aldric and I handle certain delicate matters for King Stennis. Matters that he wants kept quiet.”

“Really?” Dagan asked. The old sorcerer looked dead on his feet. “And exactly what are you doing for him now? What is it he wants you to do with us?”

Aldric looked rather surprised. “I would have thought it obvious. He wants me to help all of you escape from the city.”

Enton scoffed. “He wants us to escape from the guards and soldiers that he ordered to find us?”

Agminion stepped forward and addressed Enton, “You already know that the King cannot be seen helping you directly. He has to be careful or Telur will crush
Aramonia.” His tone was just slightly bitter, “Perhaps a little gratitude would be in order.”

It was probably a good thing that Enton still held Mikela. He looked ready to rip Agminion apart. A sudden stillness settled on the group and Aaron turned to face Agminion. Obviously he was ready to back up Enton, whatever foolish thing he might do.

Heather spoke up before Enton could, “We’ll be grateful when we get out the city.”

“As to that,” Atock said, interrupting the suddenly tense gathering, “how is it to be accomplished?”

Heather could have kissed him. His ra
ther pointed question drew everyone’s gaze from the two angry men and turned it to Aldric. After a moment, even Agminion and Enton quit glaring at each other and turned their attention to the little old man.

Aldric had not moved and he still held the torch up. He turned and pointed to the back corner of the
storehouse
. “Tomorrow, a wagon caravan will leave this
building
.” He turned back to the Guardians, “The wagons are already loaded
with bags of grain
, but you’ll be going along with them.”

“And how will we be hidden?” Heather asked.

“I have made arrangements,” Aldric answered. “Eight of the wagons have a hidden compartment. Basically, the floor of the wagon has a small compartment where you will spend the entire day.”

“If the wagons are already loaded, then how will we get in or out of these compartments?” Aaron asked.

Aldric sighed. “My friends, I have been doing this for a very long time. Please trust me.” He looked around the small group, “You look like you’re about to fall over. Please, come forward. I have some blankets for you to sleep on, but I will have to wake you in just a few hours.” He turned and started
walking, and the others hurriedly started after him. “I’m alone here tonight,” he said as he walked, “but there will be others before the sun rises. Before they get here, you have to be safely stored away in the hidden compartments.”

“And how do we get out?” Heather asked.
“I mean if the wagon floor is buried under bags of grain, then how do we open the trap door.”
Her heart was beating rather fast at the thought of ri
ding along with another caravan. The last time they tried this, it hadn’t worked out too well for them.

“The concealed door is
underneath the wagon.” He smiled, noting the nervousness that Heather wasn’t even trying to conceal. “Do not worry. I have used this method to smuggle people out of the city before.”

Heather nodded, only slightly relieved.

They arrived at a small office built into one corner of the
storehouse
. Inside, blankets were stacked haphazardly.

Aldric stopped outside the door. “Sleep. I will be back to wake you all too soon.”

True to his word, Aldric seemed to reappear moments after they had
lain
down. He woke each one of the sleepers with a gentle shake and then moved on.

Enton, surprised from his much needed sleep, jumped when he was shook and nearly knocked the little old man over. “Sorry,” he mumbled as Aldric straightened his tunic rather grumpily.

Aldric sighed and turned his attention to the group. “Hurry. The workers will begin arriving soon.
”
He led them out of the office and pointed to a door in the nearby wall. “I suggest you try and relieve yourselves; you have a long ride ahead of you.
The workers use the alley on the other side of this wall for that very purpose.
”

In the middle of a yawn, Heather shook her head. “Don’t need to.”

“Once you get in that wagon,” Aldric said slowly and forcefully, “you will not be able to get out again until well past nightfall. There will be no stops to visit the bushes along the road.”

Atock, looking puzzled, asked, “What do we do if we can’t wait until the caravan stops?”

Aldric sighed and smiled a less than pleasant grin. “You do what you need to, but you do not open the concealed door.”

“Uh, perhaps I
will visit the alley after all.” Heather said, trying hard not to imagine spending the whole day lying in her own filth. All of the Guardians followed her out the door.

When they had returned to the
storehouse
, Aldric quickly led them to the wagons. The wagons were lined up in a single file row right before a massive gate
and there were nearly twenty of them
. The wagons were already piled with bags of what, according to Aldric, were grain.

The gate doors would be nearly forty feet wide when they were both opened. They were currently closed, however.

Aldric knelt down on the stone floor and leaned up underneath the first wagon. He stopped and looked back at those watching him. “Listen to me,” he said, trying
hard
to emphasize the words. “It’s very important that you do not leave the compartment. The
guards and wagon drivers
do not know that you’re in here. If they see you, they will turn you over to the
soldiers
. Is that understood?”

Getting a sinking feeling in her stomach, Heather nodded along with the others.

“Now,” Aldric said, pulling a long thin knife from his belt, “there are three latches that hold the door shut. All three are inside the compartment. The only way someone on the outside can open the door is to slide a knife between these two planks and slide it along like this.” He slipped the knife in between two boards and pulled it from one
end
to the other.
A compartment door fell open, revealing a cramped looking niche. It would be big enough to conceal one of them, but barely.

Heather glanced sideways at Enton. The big man was staring in horror at the cramped little hole. She could imagine how he felt. As bad as it would be for her, it would be a thousand times worse for him.

“Hurry!” Aldric called from the edge of the wagon.

Heather looked back and realized he was motioning her in first. She sighed and stepped forward. “Wait,” she said, half under the edge of the wagon. “How will know when to exit the hole?”

“They will set a guard on the wagons and horses tonight. That guard in one of my men. He does not know who you are, nor does he care. He will allow you to sneak away in the darkness. Do not approach him. The King has offered a rather magnificent price to whoever captures you. I cannot be certain that my man would not raise the alarm if he recognized you.”

Heather nodded, “M
akes sense. So how will I know when to leave the compartment?” She asked the question slowly. She had already asked it once and she did not like having to repeat it.

“The sorcerer will know when it’s safe to leave the wagons.
” He motioned towards Agminion. “
He’ll also be able to find each of the wagons that have one of the concealed compartments. He’ll knock quietly and then you can open the door, not before.”

“Thank you,” Heather said and then she climbed into the small cramped hole.
She pulled her small pack in with her, placing it near her feet. It contained several days of provisions and several changes of clothes; all compliments of the king. In addition, her sword was strapped to her belt. It was rather difficult to hold her pack, align her sword, and climb into the small hole, but she managed.

The old man handed up a small water bottle which surely could not contain more than two or three mouthfuls of water. “Allow yourself one sip when the wagons stop for lunch and another mid-afternoon. No more. Understand? You remember what we talked about, how there are to be no breaks, no chances for you to leave the compartment until nightfall.”

Heather nodded and
Ald
ric pushed the fake door closed. She
quickly found out how to close the three latches.

It was even tighter than she had imagined. There were only a couple finger widths between her stomach and the wood of the wagon floor just above her. She was lying on her back and she groaned as she realized there wasn’t even enough room for her to roll over.

She listened to the others moving away and a knot of worry began growing in her belly. She had a sneaking suspicion that this would be one of the longest days of her life.

Chapter 3

Heather’s fears were soon realized. The carts left the massive storehouse a little after dawn and it was pure misery. She shivered in the cool morning air, while she listened to the clip-clop of the horses feet and the creaking of the wagon wheels. Every now and then, she heard one of the drivers call out something, either to the horses or to the other drivers.

She couldn’t see where they were going, couldn’t see anything at all as a matter of fact.
The little compartment had no holes with which to see through. Perhaps she could have looked downwards through the cracks in the compartment planks but she had chosen to lie on her back and she couldn’t see the cracks anymore.

Besides the coolness of the air, another major irritant was the dust that fell continuously through the wagon floor above her head. Her eyes were soon red with irritation and constantly watering. It soon got so bad that she pulled her shirt up to cover her face. This helped keep the dust out of her eyes but she was even more cold as her stomach was now exposed.

The compartment suddenly fell away below her and Heather’s head rebounded off of the wooden planks just inches above her face. She grunted at the impact and then again when she caught up with the planks beneath her. The wagon had ran into a rut or hole causing her to hit her head against the ceiling followed quickly by landing hard on the floor. She could taste blood and knew she had bitten her tongue.

She took a deep breath, knowing she had to be more careful. All it would take was one of the drivers or guards to hear her groans and they would all be undone.

Well,
she thought in a rather grumpy mood,
what else can go wrong?
 

The wagon train was stopped at the city gates and searched. Heather couldn’t see the gates, but judging by the sheer number of voices there had to be a large number of people packed into a very small area. She could only imagine that it was one of the circular courts that lay right before the gates.

Luckily, merchants typically were quickly searched and allowed to leave. Monarchies knew that the wealthy pay the taxes and if you anger them too much then they might just take up residence somewhere else. While most monarchies do not fear the wealthy, they do respect them, which is more than they do for the poor.

Heather held her breath as they searched her wagon. She
could
hear soldiers climbing on
the wagon bed
and shifting things around. Judging by the noise, quite a few of the
grain
sacks were removed and then restacked.

Several more soldiers poked around the bottom of the wagon
,
and for just a moment
,
Heather had a most horrifying image. She saw the soldiers finding the trap door and opening it, thereby dumping her into the dust of the city gates. For one awful moment, she pictured herself rolling around in the dirt with her shirt over her face. Gritting her teeth, she forced the thoughts away.

After what seemed like an eternity, but in reality had only been less than a quarter of an hour, the caravan started moving. They didn’t go far however, before they stopped again.

For a moment, Heather couldn’t imagine what they were stopping for. She tried to imagine the scene in her mind. It took a few moments but she realized that the wagons hadn’t gone that far through the gates. They must have stopped to let the others wagons be searched.

She let out a deep sigh and nearly choked. The dust was still thick in this little compartment and she had the overwhelming urge to cough. The
need to cough
was nearly unbearable and she so badly wanted to clear her throat, but she absolutely couldn’t. With the wagons stopped like they were, the wagon drivers or guards would surely hear. Or even worse, perhaps one of the soldiers would hear the noise and come to investigate.

Heather clamped her right hand over her mouth and squeezed her nose. Still holding her nose, and unable to stop herself, she let loose with a cough.

She held her breath and listened for the alarm. Her heart was beating fast and she thought furiously what to do. Nothing came to mind, but after a moment she realized there hadn’t been any alarm raised, no running footsteps. She allowed herself to breath again, but this time it was through her nose. She would not choke on the dust again.

It took the city guards nearly three quarters of an hour to search all the wagons and the waiting was horrible. Once the wagon started moving again, things got even worse. The dust continued to fall and Heather kept her head covered with her shirt.
The roads inside the city had been smooth and flat compared to the roads on the outside of the city walls. The only good thing was that due to the increased speed of the caravan on these old roads, the carts made an enormous amount of noise that surely would help cover up the groans of the hidden Guardians.

After a short while, Heather twisted sideways and wedged her arms, the left arm against the ceiling and the right arm against the floor. This had the affect of protecting her head from bouncing off of the hard wooden slats. Plus, with her head turned more towards the floor, less of the dust was able to bother her. Heather was beginning to think that this trip might not be too bad, when the sun began to climb up in the sky and warm things up. Soon, her little hidden compartment was as hot as an oven.

As it got hotter, Heather began to sweat. At first, it wasn’t so bad, but then her clothes began to get damp. With several hours still to go before lunch, the damp clothes and falling dust began to make her itch. The itching was atrocious and there wasn’t a thing she could
do
about it but endure.

The day passed slowly
and became almost unbearable for the smuggled Guardians. If there had been a way to sneak out and not get caught, then Heather most assuredly would have tried. But she knew that if she opened the trap door, then they would all be caught.

Four times during the day, the caravan was stopped and searched by city guards. These searches were much quicker than the morning search at the city gates and did not delay them for long.

In the mid-afternoon, Heather was reminded t
hat she hadn’t eaten anything by
the growling of her stomach. The hunger pangs were not that bad, but her tongue felt like it was swelling up. She would have gladly killed someone for a glass of water. She had not had much to drink before they left the city, as she heeded Aldric’s advice. Between not drinking much and sweating all day, she found that not being able to visit the bushes was not too much of a problem.

She believed they
were maintaining a fast pace, but she
could not see out of her little box and she could only guess on how far they had come.

Gradually the heat disappeared and Heather knew the sun was going down. It made her want to cry with delight.

Finally the caravan came to
a
stop. The wagons quit moving and the horses were unhitched. There was an enormous amount of noise as the Waggoner’s began setting up camp.

Heather listened to the hubbub and began to fear that the camp was being set up right beside the wagons. Despite the assurances of Aldric, she feared they would not get away unseen.

Sighing, she put her mind at ease. Even if they had to fight their way free of the wagon drivers, they were out of the city and surely they could get free on their own.

Remaining silent, she listened as the sounds slowly died out. Soon, she smelt smoke and knew the
wagon drivers were preparing the evening meal.
It was hard to make out what was being said, but there was quite a bit of laughing. This actually made her feel more at ease. If the guards were far enough away as to not be heard clearly, then they would have difficulty hearing the Guardian’s escape.

Gradually all the sounds disappeared. A quietness descended on the caravan, broken occasionally by a horse stomping a hoof.

Heather lay there breathing slowly, trying to remain calm, but all she wanted was out of that torturous box.
What is taking Agminion so long?
She thought. Twice she nearly opened the door on her own, but she stopped at the last moment,
remembering the words of Aldric; “The sorcerer will know when it’s safe to leave the wagons.”

Sighing again, Heather lay her head back and waited. Sooner or later Agminion would think it safe.

A small tapping on the underside of her wagon jerked Heather from a fitful sleep. She moved too far and smacked her head against the wooden slats again. Silently cursing, she undid the three latches and practically fell onto the ground.

Blessed cool
night air flowed over her and she took
in
deep gulps of air, enjoying the open feeling of the night.

Agminion stood before and, even in the poor light, he looked terrible. His skin was blotchy and red, his eyes looked swollen and puffy, and his hair stood out in all different directions.

Heather nearly laughed at the poor man’s appearance, but then she realized that she must look as bad if not worse. She bit back her laughter, climbed to her feet, and looked up at the sky.

Agminion moved up close and spoke in a low whisper, “We have several hours until sunup.”

“Where are the others?” Heather asked, realizing that the other Guardians were no where to be seen.

The ghost of a smile played across the sorcerer’s face and he pointed, first to the left, “The men are relieving themselves behind those wagons.” He then pointed to the right, “Mikela and Cassandra are behind that one.”
He smiled at her and waited.

It took a moment, but Heather finally realized what he waiting on, “I don’t need to join them. Is there any water?”

The sorcerer handed over a small canteen of water and Heather turned it up. The water was lukewarm and smelled musty, but it seemed the greatest thing she had ever tasted.

Agminion waited until she was through drinking before he spoke again. “Are you ready? We need to start moving.”

Heather lowered the canteen and appraised the sorcerer. “Along the road?”
s
he asked.

He shook his head and pointed behind the wagons. “I suggest we move back into the woods. We need to sleep and we can avoid the guards.”

Despite her little nap, Heather was exhausted and agreed without another word.

Agminion led the two of them westward, making sure to remain in the shadows of the wagons, until they met up with the rest of the Guardians. They all looked as disheveled as Agminion had, but they smiled at Heather. They
gathered together in the shadow of the last wagon
.

“We’re headed into the forest,” Agminion said. “About half a mile in, we’ll find a small river. We can wash this infernal dust off of us and make camp.”

“And then what?” Dagan asked. If the rest of them looked rough, he looked like someone had beaten him with a stick.

“We’ll discuss it later,” Agminion said, climbing to his feet.

Something in the man’s tone irritated Heather, “No. We’ll discuss it now.” It wasn’t the most strategic place to discuss their plans, but she didn’t like the way the sorcerer had taken to giving orders. She was in charge and she meant for him to know it.

Looking somewhat surprised, Agminion knelt back down. “This isn’t the time nor the place for this. We must get moving.”

“If you want to accompany us, then you had best start following orders,” Heather said.

Agminion looked like he might choke on his tongue. “Are you insane? I am not under your command.”

“You’re quite right about that.” Heather answered, “You are most certainly free to leave, but if you want to stay with us then you will follow my orders.
I’ll have your word on it.
”

“No,” Agminion said simply. “I’ll come along with you, advise you, I’ll even fight beside you, but I will not swear obedience to you.” Heather opened her mouth to respond, but he talked over her. “And as I am the one with the
way out of Aramonia, I suggest you acquiesce.”

Heather was silent for a moment. It galled her that she had to back down in front of the other Guardians, but if Agminion did have a way out the kingdom, then she would let him tag along. At least until they were in a foreign land. “All right, you can come along. What are the plans?”

Making a placating gesture, Agminion looked furtively around. “There is no time. The wagon drivers will be waking at any moment. We must go now.”

After a moment, Heather nodded. She climbed to her feet and led the party into the woods.

The trek through the woods was not difficult, although they took great pains to be quiet for the first half of the journey. After a quarter of an hour, they assumed they were far enough away from the wagon caravan and they gradually became less fearful of making noise.

There was little enough talking amongst the group and Heather could tell the others were exhausted. It seemed that she was one of the few who
had
managed to sleep, and to tell the truth, the sleep had not been that relaxing.