The Rawn Chronicles Book One: The Orrinn and the Blacksword: Unabridged (The Rawn Chronicles Series 1) (35 page)

The press of bodies jostled as a tall, gangly beardless youth with long fair, almost white, hair, appeared.

“Whyteman here has told me of a possible exit some time ago; tell them, lad,” said Furran.

Havoc could see the Vallkytes were reforming. Bowmen had appeared with a front line of shield men.

“An exit it may be, Furran,” agreed the youth.

Havoc realised that he was no older than he was. He wore a short hauberk and had a long bow with a full quiver slung on his back.

“Next level down,” he said, “there is an underground river, which flows from the Haplann Hills. It has cut out several tunnels in the rocks.”

Havoc and Powyss nodded in silence, but clearly did not understand him.

“I think the river tunnels run all the way to Lake Falryhana,” explained Whyteman.

Chapter 26

Lake Falryhana

While Havoc and Whyteman rushed through the tunnels, Powyss ordered a barricade built at the mine entrance. There was no shortage of timber. Thick roof beams, props along with tables and chairs from the mine guards’ mess room added to the construction. They emptied wooden carts of their granite load and threw them onto the barricade.

Shield men formed a line behind the makeshift wall, while the few archers that were there fired at will.

“I thought you said there were three of you,” Othell said to Powyss as they threw another beam onto the pile.

“There are, but the third shows up when we need him.” Powyss grinned.

Othell was going to ask another question when the Vallkytes unleashed a hail of arrows. Othell ducked behind the shields, while Powyss blasted the nearest arrows away with the wall of wind or disintegrated them to dust. However, some of the deadly points found their targets, as men spun to the ground, felled by the arrows only to have the bodies replaced by the living.

Little Kith had found a Golas, a larger cousin to the crossbow. Its range was longer and used thick, spear-like arrows, with iron points. The only problem with the weapon was that a large ratchet lever, which took some time and a lot of strength to prime, was the only thing that could tighten the wire bow cord. The giant was the only one there who could arm and fire it quickly. The effect on its target was astounding. It would go right through the forward shield man and hit any archer behind him. This had the result of slowing the Vallkyte advance so the barricade could be finished.

“Jericho. Is Captain Jericho here?” shouted Havoc as he and Whyteman ran through the wood scavenging prisoners.

“Over here,” came a cry from further down the tunnel.

Two men, one with curly black hair and an eye patch over his left eye, and the other taller and thinner with a bent, pock-marked nose, walked up to them.

“Which one of you is Jericho?” asked Havoc.

“Neither,” said eye patch, “but we know where he is. He is up another level in the interrogation rooms. My names Velnour, by the way; this is Hemphill; we are from Jericho’s unit.”

Havoc asked, “Please tell me. Are the rooms far?”

“They’re on the way to the underground river,” added Whyteman. “This way.”

All four ran to the end of the tunnel, where they found stone steps cut into the rock. They led up to another level and downwards towards pitch darkness.

“Velnour, Hemphill, go up and release Jericho,” said Havoc. “I and Whyteman here need to go down one level. There may be a way out.”

“The doors to his cell are made of iron. We only have axes; that won’t budge them,” said Hemphill.

“Try your best; I’ll be up as soon as I can.”

He and Whyteman took the stairs down. They opened into a cavern with rail tracks and carts. Whyteman took him to the left and into a short tunnel.

“We have been working on this seam for a week now,” said the youth as he pointed to the veins of gold running through the rock that flickered by them from Havoc’s torch. “Just the other day, this crack appeared, and the Vallkytes do not know about it.”

At the end of the tunnel was a thin crack about twelve feet high. Havoc put his torch closer and a breeze blew against the flame; he could see the gap stretched for a few feet.

“It’s a bit narrow,” he said.

“I’m thin enough to get through. There is a shingle beach just below the gap, then a shallow lake. The tunnels are to the left, about a hundred feet or so, to the rear of the lake.”

“It will take forever to get everyone through here; stand back.”

Havoc placed his hands on either side of the crack. He summoned the earth element and linked a Pyromantic surge to it. Usually, in the past, he would need to compose himself for a few minutes before attempting this trick, but now he was becoming more adept at linking the volatile energies to the arts. He only used a small surge, but the effect made Whyteman’s jaw drop. The granite rock and gold seam disintegrated into dust, leaving a gap ten feet wide and twenty feet high.

“Go and tell Powyss to send the men down here, please,” said Havoc, snapping the boy out of his shock.

Leaving the boy to carry out his orders, Havoc took the stairs upwards, two at a time. The sound of clanging metal reached him before he got to the Jericho’s cell. The narrow, well-lighted corridor had four iron doors on each side; all were open, bar one on the left side that had suffered many dents, due to Velnour and Hemphill’s attempt to open it with their axes.

“Move aside,” he said. He raised a hand as the two men stepped away and the door soon buckled inward and then distorted as the prince used the earth element to manipulate its elemental particles. He pulled his arm away to the left and the door burst open in that direction where it shook and finally hung from one hinge. Both Velnour and Hemphill looked on in wonder. The room beyond the door was dark on the other side.

“Are you bastards finished making a racket?” asked a gravel-like voice.

“Captain Jericho, I presume?” asked Havoc.

The sound of movement came from the far end of the cell, and Jericho walked into the light, blinking. He was a well-muscled bull of a man, with friendly eyes, a two-day growth of beard and a shaved head. His captors, due to the cuts and bruises on his face and body, had treated him poorly. He squinted at them through black puffy eyes.

“You’re not one of my men,” he said to Havoc.

“My name is Havoc; I came with Captain Powyss. This is a rescue.” He was not worried about revealing his name; it was common enough among the Roguns.

“Powyss,” he boomed. “Is that old goat still alive?”

“Are you well enough, Captain?” asked Velnour.

“It will take more than a dozen Vallkytes to knock the wind out of my sails, Sergeant.”

“Glad to hear it,” said Havoc. He turned to the other two. “Gentlemen, arm the captain and take him to the lower level.”

The captain shouted after him, but Havoc was already running down the stairs. Men were already making their way to the river and escape.

The Vallkytes made another attack. Furran was loading his own Golas to help Little Kith, who was starting to weaken from the constant use of the crossbow, but he was still firing three bolts to Furran’s one. Every time Furran fired, the kickback sent the shorter man onto his arse.

“No wonder these bloody things are obsolete!” Furran mumbled as he fumbled with the ratchet.

Whyteman could hear the giants bellowing laughter as he ran up the tunnel. “Your friend says you are to pull your men back to the river, Captain,” he said as he reached Powyss.

“Does your apprentice think he is in charge, Powyss?” Othell asked sarcastically.

“He is, Othell.” Powyss gave his friend a frown. “All right, everyone to the rear of the tunnel.”

He pointed Bor-Teaven at the base of the barricade when everyone moved back. Bright orange flame spread quickly over the timber and raised high into the sky.

“That should keep them busy,” he said.

More men were running past Havoc as he raced up the main tunnel. He met Whyteman on the way and sent him down the stairs to show everyone the opening. Powyss appeared seconds later. Havoc could see the burning barricade. The Vallkytes soldiers were attempting to pull it down.

“Turning up the heat, are we?” he asked the older man.

“You know me. I like to give my guests a warm reception.”

“I found Jericho. He said you’re an old goat.”

“Aw, he’s just being nice.”

They ran together to the opening Havoc had made. As they entered, they could see men waist deep in the river with torches, which were bright enough to make out the outline of the tunnels beyond. There were four of them. The soft rock had been eroding it for centuries, forming into pillars and arched caves. The orange light from the torches cast dancing shadows over the rough surface of the openings and rushing water drowned out the slaves’ voices. By this time, they had waded over to Othell and the shield men, most of the prisoners had ducked into the small caverns, and Havoc could feel the strong pull of the current as the water gripped his legs.

A whining noise issued suddenly above the sound of the cold, black river. A man yelled beside Havoc and fell face down in the water with an arrow in his back. They all turned and saw the handful of Vallkyte bowmen line the far bank and fire at them. Havoc and Powyss used their swords to bat the arrows away or use the Arts to deflect them away from the slaves, granting them time to go into the caves.

More Vallkyte bowmen appeared at the edge of the river. They waded forward to get better range.

“Barricade didn’t last long, then,” said Havoc.

“It bought us some time though.” Powyss looked behind him; darkness engulfed the escapees as the torches disappeared into the caves. “Off you go, then,” he said.

“No, I insist, you first,” said Havoc.

Twelve Vallkytes fired a volley.

“Bugger it! We’ll both go.”

They both ran into the nearest cave, one after the other.

The slaves had split themselves into groups. The battle with the soldiers had reduced their numbers, but they still managed to clog up the cave entrances. Havoc and Powyss never had the problem of queuing men, because, in their rush to get away from the archers, they chose the nearest and smallest opening, which had been avoided by everyone else.