TST (23 page)

Azerick sat bolt upright and looked at the cave and people around him. Zeb was shaking his shoulder and looking at him with concern in his eyes.

“Zeb, is that you?” Azerick asked, desperate for confirmation.

“Aye, lad, of course it is. You were moaning then started shouting in your sleep.”

“Are you sure it’s you? Are we really here in a cave?”

Zeb looked at him curiously. “Of course we’re here. Where else would we be?”

“Never mind,” Azerick said as he ground the heels of his palms into his eyes. “How is everyone else doing?”

“They’re a little scared and unsure about where they are but glad to be gone from that place,” Zeb answered. “Why don’t you eat something before we move on? You’ve been asleep for some time.”

Azerick had absolutely no appetite but he knew that his body needed the sustenance the food would provide. If it had just been him, he may have simply resigned himself to curling up on the cold cavern floor until he joined Delinda and his child. Nevertheless, he rescued these people and now he was responsible for them. He ate purely by rote then stood and addressed the people around him.

Azerick winced in pain as every muscle in his body protested and demanded to lie back down. His partially healed wounds caused him the most pain but every muscle seemed to be on fire and resisted any kind of movement. He had channeled far too much power and his body was making sure that he was well of aware of the fact. Despite it all, he knew they needed to press on.

“I am sure you all are wondering where we are. The truth is I am not sure. We are obviously underground but how far I have no idea. I do have reason to believe that we are under or near the kingdom of Valaria, which is where most of us are from. I see that Zeb and his crew brought food, water, and a few weapons for which we should all be grateful. As soon as you are all ready, we will start to make our way to the surface.”

Azerick moved towards the front of the group under the stare of frightened eyes. Once everyone was on their feet and ready to move, he began leading them down the dark passageway.  The light from the stones he made preceded them down the tunnel and chased away the darkness. The tunnel constantly changed shape, growing wider, narrower, taller, and shorter as they went, but fortunately not so much that they could not easily negotiate the passage.

The caves were cold and the travelers were poorly dressed. Azerick was able to provide the group with a small measure of warmth when they stopped to rest for what constituted the night using his magic. It was at such a rest point on the fourth day of their journey towards the surface that Zeb and Toron sat next to him and revealed some problems.

“Water is getting short. If we don’t find a water source down here in the next couple days we’re really going to be in trouble,” Zeb informed him.

“There may be a more immediate concern at hand,” the big minotaur rumbled. “I used to work in the mines back in my own kingdom and I can tell that for the past two days these passages have been worked, and recently. Even more disconcerting is that we are being followed.”

Azerick’s eyes widened in alarm. “How long have they been following us and who are they?”

Toron shook his big horned head. “I noticed them about an hour ago. Who they are I have no clue. Dwarves, abyssal elves, and many other races live under the surface. Some can be extremely unpleasant like the abyssal elves, others are more benign but those are few. The underworld is a harsh world and its inhabitants have to be tough to survive. If it is dwarves or another of the less hostile races, they are likely just keeping an eye on us until we are beyond their territory. If they are abyssal elves then we are in a great deal of danger. They are either waiting for a good ambush site or their numbers are not great enough to risk an attack and are waiting for more of their kind to reinforce them.”

Zeb asked, “What should we do? I’m a ship captain and a decent fighter but underground battle tactics are not my forte. Should we just go back and ask them what they want or create an ambush site of our own and try to parlay there?”

Azerick took charge once more and directed his people. “No, I think we should avoid whoever it is no matter what their intention. If we confront them, that may cause them to attack out of alarm. Divide up whatever weapons we have. Myself, Toron, and a third of the armed men will take up the rear. Zeb, you and the rest of the men guard our front but leave a couple in the center with those who are unarmed. I have a sneaking suspicion that if they are going to attack us they will have a group hit our front or flank, in an attempt to block us or divide our party in two.”

Toron nodded his horned head at the young sorcerer’s wisdom. “The larger party will likely be the one to our rear. Any attack to the front will be to slow us down and if the fight goes badly for them they would want their path of retreat to be in the opposite direction of wherever we are going.”

Azerick looked around the cavernous chamber where they had decided to stop to rest. “We’ll sleep here. If they are going to attack us, we need to get as much rest now as we can. Also, the two passages leading into here are narrow and that gives us a defensive advantage. Double the guard, tell everyone what you know but reassure them as best you can, and tell them to sleep with one hand on their weapons.”

Fortune seemed to smile on them and their rest went undisturbed. Their hidden watchers, lacking in interest or courage, chose not to attack them that night. Their luck did not hold for long however. Just a little over an hour after the refugees resumed their trek to the surface, their pursuers decided to confront them.

“They are drawing nearer,” Toron informed Azerick in a low voice.

Azerick nodded and dropped his light stone onto the cave floor. A minute later, he saw the creatures that were following them as they stepped cautiously into the circle of light fifty yards behind them. Whoever they were, they were short; about four feet tall with long slender arms and grayish skin. Azerick could see that they were a well-armed party, wielding crossbows and picks that looked as effective against flesh and armor as they did stone.

Azerick raised his empty hands in a gesture of peace. “We mean you no harm and do not wish to trespass on your territory. We have recently escaped a city of evil creatures and just wish to return to the surface. We could be gone from your lands more quickly with your help which would be greatly appreciated.”

The cavern gnomes answered Azerick’s request by raising and firing their crossbows. The sorcerer spoke a command and raised a shield in front of him just before the steel-headed quarrels could tear into his flesh. The bolts’ flight halted just a foot from his heart and clattered to the ground as they met the spell caster’s invisible shield. Azerick called for peace once more but the cavern gnomes raised their pickaxes and charged.

He let a lightning bolt rip from his hand and dropped several of the wiry creatures in their tracks. He heard the clamor of battle behind him as another contingent of gnomes attacked the head of the party. Furious shouts from the humans and the foreign battle cries of the gnomes reached his ears as he let loose another lightning bolt, killing several and driving back the rest of the cavern gnome forces that harried their rear.

“You men, go search those bodies as quickly as you can for weapons. Toron, go help Zeb at the front of our party, I’ll guard our rear,” Azerick ordered.

He followed just behind the men to where the cavern gnome casualties laid. Azerick erected a long field of stone spikes along the passage to slow any pursuit as the men stripped the fallen cavern gnomes of picks, daggers, crossbows, and small shields.

“Half of you guard our rear, the rest come with me,” Azerick ordered.

Azerick and four of the men raced to the front of the small column of former slaves while the remaining four men fired their pilfered crossbows at any enemy that came within view.

Toron charged into battle swinging his battleaxe in huge, sweeping arcs. His arrival was welcome relief to the unarmored humans that were trying desperately to fight off numerous enemies with nothing more than kitchen utensils. The gnomes had wounded several of the sailors but they were acquitting themselves well despite their meager weapons. Sailors were often accustomed to fighting with various makeshift weapons from gaffs to belaying pins and had left two of the gnomes dead on the ground before Toron arrived.

Azerick and his relief force arrived to see the huge minotaur wading into a knot of vicious gnomes and cleaving two them nearly in half with one powerful swing. The gnomes were quick and wily though, darting around and under Toron’s thick, hairy legs and delivering painful wounds of their own.

Azerick sent a stream of energy bolts into two of gnomes, knocking them away from the harassed minotaur. Toron swept his great axe down at the off-balance gnomes, taking the head from one and the weapon arm from the other.

The armless cavern gnome stumbled back spraying his kin with bright arterial blood from his stump. Azerick sent another barrage of magical bolts into the gnomes and turned their fighting withdrawal into a route. Toron was about to chase after them until Azerick called him back.

“Let them go, Toron. Help us with the wounded and let’s get out of here,” Azerick called to the big minotaur.

Toron looked at the fleeing gnomes with a hunger in his eyes then turned back towards his comrades with a sigh of regret. “It has been a long time since I last felt the stirrings of battle lust in my blood. It felt good.”

“I have a feeling you will get another chance at them. For now we need your strength to help carry our wounded.” Azerick looked down at the minotaur’s blood soaked legs. “Make sure you get those bandaged up too. I shudder at the thought of having to carry you.”

“These little scratches? They are nothing, but I will do as you ask.”

The few women in the group tore any extra clothing they had brought into strips for bandages. Azerick took one of the precious healing draughts from his satchel and gave a measured dose to those most in need. Unfortunately two of the men were beyond the potion’s ability to help.

“I’m sorry, Zeb,” Azerick told his old captain. “We will have to leave them here. We need to be able to move swiftly and I doubt that it will take long for the gnomes to regroup and hit us again.”

“Aye, lad, you’re right. They died free men and none of us can ask for more than that. Their spirits are grateful to you, don’t you let that worry you none,” the old sailor assured his young friend.

The men salvaged what weapons and armor they could from the bodies of their enemies and moved out swiftly. None of the armor fit any of the men but many of them now had metal helms and small shields as well as weapons that were more formidable than kitchen knives. One of the smaller women slipped a hard leather cuirass over her head and gripped a kitchen knife in her hand.

*****

Humans and a huge, horned beast were in their caves. This was intolerable. Particularly after the creature with the spider face and his soldiers had caused so much trouble a few weeks ago. The human that threw lightning had spoken some words and made gestures that hinted at peaceful intent but that was irrelevant. A stone master was coming with more soldiers. He would take care of that one. This was their territory and they would tolerate no trespassers.

*****

Azerick and the refugees moved as quickly as they could, helping the wounded move as swiftly as they dared. He would treat their injuries more thoroughly when they stopped. He wished Delinda were here. She was a better herbalist and healer than he was and would know how to care for the wounded. She had mastered the few tricks he had shown her in regards to brewing healing potions. Given time and practice, she would have become a master herbalist and healer.

His thoughts brought a wave of fresh grief crashing against his heart, threatening to rip it from its moorings and shattering it upon the rocks of his pain. He suppressed his sorrow as best he could and focused on getting these people to safety. He did not have the luxury of time to mourn. He would do that later.

Fear energized their steps and they put a great deal of distance between them and the site of the ambush. No signs of pursuit were apparent but Azerick and Toron both agreed that it was very unlikely that the cavern gnomes were simply going to let them go. They continued their exodus until fatigue and the pain of their wounds forced them to rest.