Invasion (8 page)

“She must have acquired them recently,” said O’tukka as the General stared at him, “because if she had them all along she wouldn’t have needed to implant me into the Black Skull. I would have imagined Gilkan was too proud to unite with the Ta’zu in order to come after us but he may not have been given much choice.”

“So we can assume that either the two tribes have a temporary alliance or Gilkan is dead and Sylestra now rules both. Either way it does not bode well for us. We will not be safe here,” said General Krak’too.

“We are not safe anywhere if that’s the case,” replied O’tukka grimly.

General Krak’too nodded. “What does Duke Angus plan?”

“To hold the Gate as long as possible and make them pay heavily for taking it. When it becomes overrun he will retreat to Arthea, destroying the fort behind him.”

“Good plan, but what then?”

“He will seek King Cassien’s counsel. That is all I know so far,” replied O’tukka.

“Take me to Duke Angus,” commanded General Krak’too

“At once General.” O’tukka stood up and formed a magical gate in the middle of the room and beckoned the General to enter.

They located the Duke almost immediately as they heard him shouting commands over the constant thud of ballista bolts hitting the blocking wall.

“Can I have a word, Duke Angus?” General Krak’too glanced around the fort as he waited for the Duke’s attention.

“Certainly, General.” Duke Angus quietly spoke a few words to Major Hillsworth and then directed General Krak’too and Great Shaman O’tukka to his personal tent. “How can I help you?” He took a seat at the table and indicated they should do the same.

“I hear that you will not be successful in closing the Gate which means Sylestra’s army will be flooding into this world very soon.” Krak’too shuffled himself into his chair and leant forward as he spoke.

“That about sums up the situation, yes,” replied Duke Angus.

“Then this is very bad news as I’m sure you know. You have high walls to hide behind but all we have is a small city with limited defence. It won’t take Sylestra long to realise this and she’ll wipe us out in short order.” Krak’too spoke slowly and deliberately. O’tukka knew that his scenario was correct and if that were to happen, death would be the best outcome for himself. But he had a sneaking suspicion that Sylestra wouldn’t want death to steal her victory.

“I think I see what you are getting at, General. You wish sanctuary in Arthea?” The Duke’s eyes were unreadable.

“I believe it to be in both our interests. We can help you defend your city when the Ta’zu inevitably come against you.”

“Or perhaps Sylestra is just after your shaman here and the Gate. Maybe once she has those things she will leave us be. We have very little to go on here, General, only your word and some very old books.” The tone and posture of Duke Angus did not appear accusatory, merely questioning.

“Do you believe that to be the case Duke Angus? If you are wrong and you leave us to be destroyed, you will be left to defend your city alone. Sylestra has conquered a few cities mightier than yours in a few days. Do you think you can withstand her?”

Duke Angus rubbed his chin and lowered his gaze and then replied, “She will be without magic on this world so she may find it a bit more difficult to conquer, yes. But I don’t doubt that your help would be invaluable and you have not betrayed us so far.”

“It now appears she has Black Skull shamans aiding her and their magic will work on this world,” added O’tukka.

Duke Angus acknowledged his comment with a nod.

“So we have agreement?” asked Krak’too.

“We do,” replied Duke Angus. “Can your warriors aid us here in defence? The more damage we do to them here, the less we’ll have coming against Arthea later.”

“They are protecting our females and little ones in case the Raziyan’s return.”

“Then move them to Arthea now and send what force you can spare here. I’ll send a group with you to help with the transfer.”

“Agreed. I’ll see to it at once.”

“I’ll get that group together now.” Duke Angus rose from his chair and walked to the entrance of the tent. He waited there for Krak’too and O’tukka and escorted them out.

O’tukka stayed with the General near the Gate and watched the defence preparations of the humans and dwarves.

“They certainly are an industrious race,” said Krak’too as he watched the dwarves strengthening the wall blocking the Gate.

“It won’t be enough to save them,” replied O’tukka miserably.

Chapter 7

Breach

Jeff pushed the small cart loaded with meat along the rails for what seemed like the thousandth time that day. He had surprisingly already grown accustomed to the smell of the Slaughterhouse. The cart reached a tunnel entrance where the rails descended to the lower level for the next stage in the process. He stopped and looked around to make sure the guards weren’t watching him while he feigned a brief respite.

No guards were in sight.

He took advantage of that and gave the cart a shove and then jumped on the back of it. The cart accelerated at an alarming rate as it plunged into the dark tunnel. Before it picked up too much speed, Jeff jumped off the back and did his best not to slide down after the cart. Even so he tumbled and rolled until he managed to grip hold of something.

That ‘something’ happened to be a metal ladder attached to the wall of the tunnel. He had to act fast for if another worker pushed a meat cart down this tunnel he’d be struck and killed — not to mention that it wouldn’t take too long until the guards noticed his absence.

He scurried up the grimy ladder and placed his right hand firmly against the trapdoor overhead. He listened carefully for a moment for any sound above the trapdoor.

He heard none.

Still he waited. Then sounded the noise he had been waiting for — the next meat cart thundering along the track. Keeping his body as close to the ladder as possible so he wasn’t hit, he pushed up hard on the trapdoor and it squeaked open, but the sound was drowned out by the rattling noise of the cart speeding by.

Jeff pushed the trapdoor all the way back and lifted himself into the space above. He quickly and painfully discovered that he now squatted in a crawl space as he hit his head on the rock ceiling above.

Crouched on all fours and not sure which way to go, he took a guess and started crawling. He soon reached an intersection and to his right a dusty light filtered in so he crept towards it.

As he neared, it became obvious that the light came from a metal grate on one side of the crawl space. When he reached it he looked out of it and smiled.

A large animal yard lay below him where various animals awaited slaughter in their segregated paddocks. Beyond that he caught sight of the city for the first time.

It looked immense.

Buildings scattered about as far as the eye could see and orcs, half-orcs and even humans lined the many roads. The slave compound sat on top of a hill and with Jeff being three storeys high it afforded him a great view.

The beginnings of an escape plan started to form in his mind.

Once he had a clear picture in his mind of the city layout, he turned around and shuffled back the way he came. When he got to the ladder, he climbed down a few rungs and waited for a cart to speed by him until he closed the hatch and hurried down the rest of the way.

Now for the dangerous part.

He scurried up the steep incline while keeping an ear out for any approaching carts. When one came he barely made it against the wall before it rushed by — the wind blew against his face. He wasted no time after that hurrying the rest of the way.

He did a quick scan before leaving the tunnel to make sure he wasn’t observed. As he took a step out, he knew that his disappearance had not gone unnoticed. Movement in the corner of his eye was the only warning he got before something solid connected with the back of his head and all went black.

When he regained consciousness he found himself lying on a cold stone floor in a small cell with a throbbing headache. He lifted his head with an effort and saw an orc standing at the cell with a wicked grin.

“You wake at last,” said the orc guard.

“I wish I hadn’t.” Jeff rubbed the back of his head and found a large lump where he’d been struck. Surprisingly the orc chuckled.

“You will live — at least for a time. Supreme Mistress Sylestra will no doubt wish to speak with you when she returns. She doesn’t look kindly on escape attempts.” The orc guard turned to leave.

“Escape attempt? I have no idea what you’re talking about. I was simply inspecting the tunnel as another worker told me that a cart got jammed earlier today.” Jeff thought the lie to be a longshot but worth the effort — it might save his life.

“A jam should have been reported and it is not your job to fix jams,” barked the guard.

“It was a minor incident and I thought I might fix it without bothering the guards.” Jeff slowly lifted himself to his knees and then attempted to stand up. A wave of nausea came over him and he dropped once more to his knees.

“And were you able to see anything in the dark?” The orc mocked him as he gripped the metal bars.

“I could not. I didn’t realise it’d be so dark down there,” replied Jeff struggling not to vomit.

“I grow weary of your lies, human. The Supreme Mistress will soon get the truth out of you.” The orc guard turned abruptly and stormed off.

A moment later Jeff vomited.

Vik whispered the words Master Pilk had taught him and pointed yet again at the target.  He uttered the release word and a glowing, dark-blue bolt shot out from the tip of his finger. It struck the chest of his painted orc right where the heart would be. The wood cracked and splinters flew off in every direction.

“Wow,” shouted Trent excitedly, “you shattered the timber and you didn’t take long casting the spell.”

Vik walked to the timber target and inspected it. A crack ran the length of the grain and the timber would have fallen if not held in place by a wooden support rail. The point of impact showed as a deep, burnt gouge the size of a gold piece. He had no doubt that if his missile hit a real orc it’d knock him to the ground and do serious harm.

“I’m going to need to build a stronger target.” Vik grinned.

“Perhaps when Master Pilk returns he can arrange for a metal target.” Trent chuckled as he took a closer look at the damaged target.

Vik was going to reply with a smug comment about the target needing to be made from no less than the Goldfist dwarves, reputably the best metalsmiths on Ka’ton, when he heard voices inside.

“Sounds like he may be home now.” Vik hurried to the door and opened it with Trent hot on his heels. Inside he found Cressida helping an injured Decker to a dining chair.

“You should be lying down and resting, not sitting up or moving about,” lectured Cressida. “Ah boys I see you haven’t managed to burn the house down,” she continued as she turned to them.

“Are you all right?” Vik asked Decker.

“I’ll be fine thanks to this nag here,” replied Decker.

“It was Koren who managed to keep you alive until I arrived.” Cressida pulled out a chair and guided Decker onto it.

“You almost died?” blurted Trent.

“Koren said it was a close thing, yes.” Decker shuffled into the chair and stretched out his legs.

Vik had so many questions he wanted to ask but didn’t know which order to ask them.

“How did it happen? Is Master Pilk okay? Is the Gate closed?” Trent fired off the questions in quick succession obviously having the same problem as Vik.

“Master Pilk is fine and no the Gate is not closed,” answered Cressida. “A powerful army has come and is now strengthening the Gate from the other side even as we were trying to drain it. Decker fought against a small part of this army but his story can wait until he is well.”

“So what will happen now?” asked Vik finally finding his voice.

“That is for kings and dukes to decide but for now we’ll hold the fort for as long as we can.” Cressida sat next to Decker with a sigh. “So who’s going to make us a cup of hot choco?”

The relentless banging of the ballista bolts hitting the solid wall was driving Sylestra crazy. She had hoped to be through by now. The hour grew late so it looked unlikely they would attack today as a night time assault would not be wise.

“I am going to return to Chakun for the night,” she told General Jak’ho who stood beside her. “I will return tomorrow.”

“Of course, Supreme Mistress. I apologise that this is taking longer than expected. Should anything major happen I will contact you.” The General bowed his head.

Sylestra called for Zaydok with her magic whistle and within seconds orcs were scattering to make room for the mighty wyvern. She climbed onto his back and strapped herself in and then mentally commanded him to take flight. She considered going to Gnash first to see how her newly acquired tribe fared but decided against it. They had their orders and it would be good to give them space for the moment.

It was a fine spring day but the rushing wind always made it cold as she flew high above the landscape. She huddled close to Zaydok and absorbed his body heat as she pushed him to fly faster. She looked forward to a nice hot bath and a soft bed.

Soon after landing she found she wasn’t going to get that for a while as she many things required her attention. Among them was an attempted escape. She would sort this matter out first.

They were holding the prisoner in the slave compound jail so it took her a while to walk there accompanied by the head guard who continued telling her the details as they walked. By the time she arrived she had a good understanding of what had happened but she had not been told who had made the attempt except that it had been one of the new captives.

She wasn’t surprised to find that it had been Jeff and was relieved that it hadn’t been Gerard. She held little doubt that Gerard had been involved somehow but since he had not been caught in the act she would not be obligated to sacrifice him for the crime. It would be a shame to sacrifice this man too as he was physically appealing and reputed to be as fine a swordsman as Gerard, but she had not felt the same connection with him.

His sacrifice would please Nefari very much and his strength and skill would serve to enhance her own. Before she did this though, she needed to interrogate him.

“Were you not happy in my compound?” she asked him as he looked up at her from the floor.

“No one of right mind would be happy in your compound,” Jeff spat back. The man looked to be in quite a lot of pain as he made no move to stand up. He continued to lie on the cold stone floor curled up in a foetal position.

“Are you not well?” she asked with mild concern. She couldn’t have him dying before having the chance to sacrifice him.

“A solid whack to the head and a beating afterwards will do that to you. So nice of you to be concerned for me though.” His words were staggered and laboured. Sylestra called to the head guard.

“Have you arranged a healer for this man yet?” she asked as the guard entered the corridor.

“No, Supreme Mistress. I didn’t wish to waste the energies of our healers.” The guard bowed his head and spoke in an unsure voice.

“I will garner no information out of a dead man,” she shouted. This wasn’t entirely true for she had the power to raise the spirit and ask of it what she willed but that expended even more energy than what a simple healing would. Not to mention the extra time it would take — time she could ill afford at present.

“I understand, Supreme Mistress. I will send for one immediately.” The guard hurried off.

“I am not surprised by your escape attempt,” said Sylestra, turning her attention back to Jeff. “I am surprised and a little disappointed that you were caught so quickly and easily. I expected more from you and Gerard.”