Lodestone Book One: The Sea of Storms (17 page)

If the tributes were locked down,
then the carts would not be in use. No-one would have a reason to
look in them. She should be safe there, at least for a
while.

She could not see them from her
current position, but she had noticed them on her way in. She edged
around to the back of the hut, which was still in shadow. There was
a hut adjacent to this one and then another farther on. They all
held tributes and were presumably locked down in the same way hers
had been. The adjacent gaps lay in open sunlight but if she dashed
between them, she could get to the other side of the enclosure,
near where the ore carts were parked. She glanced around the first
corner. There was no-one in sight. Clutching her bundle, she darted
across the sunlit yard. Ail-Gan hung in the sky as if it were
looking for an opportunity to betray her. She reached the back of
the next hut, and pressed herself against the wall as before,
breathing hard in the shadows.

So far, so
good.
She crept along the wall and spied
round the next corner. Again the view was clear. She tensed and
began her charge across the open space. At that moment, two
soldiers, a man and a woman, came into view. Shann careened to a
halt and scurried back into the shadows.

“What was that?” It was a male
voice. Shann’s heart sank. She had been seen.

“What was what?” the female
responded.

“Something moved over
there.”

“Where?”

“There, near the tributes’
hut.”

The woman snorted. “You’re seeing
things.” Then she added, “Still, I suppose I can’t blame you, after
the business at the guardhouse this morning.”

The man sounded distracted. “Six
of our troops and a Keltar, all taken out. How could it
happen?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll tell you
this; when Ferenek finds those responsible, he’ll have them strung
up by their boot heels.”

Shann’s heart
quickened as the news sank in. The guardhouse had been attacked,
but no-one knew by whom. That meant that Lyall and Alondo
were…
alive.
Maybe
they had halted the attack and escaped when they realised there
were too many soldiers at the compound? Or maybe someone else had
tipped them off? Right now, she didn’t care. Somehow they were
alive. She was going to escape to join them, come what may.
And
then we come back
here and free Roanol and the others.
Renewed hope surged through her.

The man spoke again. “I’m going
to take a look.”

Shann moved
like a flash around to the side of the building and hunkered down
in the shade. The crunch of two sets of boots in the sand.
Coming closer.
She drew
back further and shut her eyes as if the act would somehow render
her invisible.

“Satisfied?” It was the woman’s
voice. “Come on.”

“I suppose.” The man let out a
sigh. “This place is making me jumpy. What I wouldn’t give for a
mug of horge back at the fort.”

“You drink too much of that stuff
as it is…”

The voices faded off into the
distance. Shann said a brief thank you to the Three.

She moved back and crossed to the
rear of the third hut without incident. From there she could see
the ore carts–her immediate goal. Checking that the coast was clear
once more, she covered the intervening ground and reached the
carts. Two were half full; one was empty. She clambered into the
empty one, curling up and pulling the blanket over her, so that it
covered her slight form.

Shann figured
that the lockdown would have to last at least long enough for
Ferenek’s soldiers to do an extensive daylight search for those who
had attacked the guardhouse. She could only hope that Lyall and
Alondo were well away from here by now. Anyway, if the soldiers
were busy chasing down the perpetrators, then they couldn’t
supervise ore collection at the same time.
Still, I can’t lie here indefinitely.

She recalled layout of the
enclosure. The gate faced south, away from Gort’s massive stone
walls. The ore carts were not far off from the eastern edge of the
compound. If she waited until they widened the search, there would
be fewer soldiers here and she would stand the best chance of
effecting an escape. She lay in the cart and waited.

Time passed.
The suns grew hotter. The noises in the compound grew quieter.
Shann decided.
Time to move.

She peeked from
under the blanket, over the rim of the ore cart.
All clear.
She rolled
out onto the hard-packed sand, and reached back into the cart to
retrieve the blanket and the wooden slat. As quickly as she could,
she tied the end of the blanket to the wood. Then she made a low
dash to the palisade.

The upright stakes were set close
together, more than twice her height, and cut to a point at the
apex, like a row of sharp teeth. She swung the blanket like a rope.
The end weighted by wood sailed up and caught the top of the stake
on its spike. Shann tugged on the blanket, and then climbed up. As
she neared the top, she felt the blanket starting to rip. With a
swift movement, she grabbed on to the rough wooden spike, hauling
herself up.

From the top of
the palisade, she looked over the outside edge. There was someone
there, near the palisade. A black cloaked figure with their back to
her.
A Keltar.
Then a noise from inside the enclosure. She looked back over
her shoulder. The sound of a group of soldiers coming from the
direction of the guardhouse. Any moment now, they would come into
sight and would spot her on top of the palisade and it would be
over. There was no choice. She was committed.

She pulled the
end of the blanket up and tossed it over the outside of the
enclosure. Then, swinging around, she yanked the piece of wood from
the blanket, and dropped as swiftly and silently as she could to
the sand, landing just behind the cloaked figure. She raised the
makeshift club, and brought it down on the back of the Keltar’s
neck. At the last moment, a distant part of her mind registered
something naggingly familiar about the unruly shock of sandy hair,
causing her to pull back slightly.
Crack!
The Keltar staggered forward
from the impact nonetheless. He turned, his left hand clutching the
nape of his neck, and her eyes widened in disbelief.
“Lyall! What are you doing here?”

His face was
screwed up in pain. “Trying to rescue you. Although right now, it
feels more like I need to be rescued
from
you.” As if to emphasise the
point, he massaged his neck. “
Owww!
”

“I’m sorry, I thought you were…”
She shook her head. Then she stepped forward and supported him by
the arm. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

~

Alondo rose to his feet as he saw
two figures crest the edge of the dune above the tiny encampment.
They were an odd pairing, one tall, with a black cape, topped with
a mop of fair hair; the other short, clad in the tan coverall of a
tribute. He grinned from ear to ear and began running towards
them.

He grabbed the petite girl by the
shoulders at arm’s length, and regarded her, as if checking the
evidence of his own eyes. “You actually did it; you got her
out.”

“I appreciate your faith in me,
Alondo, but I didn’t do anything. She escaped on her
own.”

”You escaped on your own?” Alondo
asked in disbelief. “How–?”

“Just be glad she’s on our side.”
Lyall rubbed the back of his head.

“I told you,
that was an
accident
,” she protested. “I just–” she stopped in mid-sentence.
Lyall was smiling. She hit him playfully on the
arm.

“Owww.”

Alondo’s grin widened again.
“So…what now?”

“Time to pack up and leave.” He
headed for the encampment. Shann and Alondo tagged along
behind.

“What about Roanol and the
others?” Shann called after Lyall.

“Who?” Alondo probed.

“Roan–I mean the tributes at the
compound,” she corrected.

“
Don’t worry Shann, I
haven’t forgotten them,” Lyall assured her.

“Roanol, eh?” Alondo whispered in
her ear.

“Shhh!” Shann’s look was
threatening.

They began taking down the
awnings and packing away the other gear. “Where are we headed?”
Shann asked Lyall.

“The road east.”

“What’s our
destination?”

Lyall paused. “Well to be honest,
I’m not completely certain. But there’s someone I’m hoping to meet
along the way.”

Chapter
11

Keris swept
over the smooth sands of the Southern Desert and entered the
forbidding gates of Gort. The guards on duty barely had time to
acknowledge her passing.
I must be
swift.
Any moment now, word would spread
of the attack on the compound, and the fortress would be on high
alert. She needed to buy some time, and for that she needed a
diversion. She hurried in the direction of the
barracks.

It was shortly after dawn, but
most of the fortress’ inhabitants were up and about. More
importantly, the garrison would have mustered for the day’s
activity; hence the barracks should be all but deserted. She
entered one of the low wooden buildings, and poked her head inside
the sleeping quarters. As expected, they were deserted.

She stepped
inside, and calmly reached into the pouch at her belt, bringing out
a lodestone grenade. Placing her other hand over it, she gave it
one half twist, and tossed it toward the bunks at the far end.
There was a low whine, increasing in pitch, followed by an
explosion of white light and heat. Flames and then smoke rapidly
took hold of the bunks and the wooden floor. She stepped back,
twisting the top half of another silver coloured sphere and threw
it toward the other end of the barracks
.
Another blossoming of light and flame.

There was something strangely
satisfying, even cathartic about her actions. During the violence
of the events at the guardhouse, she had been detached,
professional. Her body and her staff had moved automatically in
response to the need to remove the hostile threat–without emotion,
without thought. Afterward, though, as she surveyed the carnage she
had wrought, the lives she had taken, she felt physically sick. She
had acted to save the lives of others, but she still felt sullied
by all that she had been forced to do up to this point.

Now, as she watched the flames
lick upward, consuming the barracks, it felt as if she were purging
herself, expunging forever her old life of service to a creature
who was determined to destroy everything she held dear, to achieve
his own ends.

What her new
life would hold for her she did not know but for the first time in
a long while, she felt
clean
. For now, that was
enough.

She turned and exited the burning
barracks, heading for the armoury.

The armoury building was a short
distance away, near the casemate. Keris waited near the stone wall
of the fortified structure, feigning a preoccupation with her
equipment. All too soon, there were frenzied shouts from the
direction of the barracks. Soldiers began running towards the
source of the disturbance, and moments later were joined by the two
guards from the armoury itself. Keris waited until they were out of
sight, and then slipped inside.

The inner room was poorly lit.
Wooden shelves set into the rough stone walls were packed with
equipment and boxes. A few crates were stacked against the far
wall. Keris found a small sack and began rapidly poring over the
items on display, locating what she needed. She worked quickly,
replacing anything that she disturbed. Then, tying the sack to her
belt, she left the armoury, checking that no-one saw
her.

She needed just one more thing.
Hurrying across the worn stone cobbles, she made for the
Commander’s office.

The office was inside the
casemate, at the far end. She entered and saw no-one around. They
were all at the barracks no doubt, trying to bring the inexplicable
fire under control. The office door was not locked. Her eye scanned
the interior and settled on a loose collection of books and scrolls
on a table off to one side. She rifled through them, selecting the
scroll she needed and stuffing it into her sack.

She turned to
leave and stopped. A figure stood in the doorway clad in a rich
russet surcoat over leather armour, barring her exit. He was
shorter than she was, but still carried an imposing air. His thin
features transformed into a visage of pure contempt. His tail
twitched in agitation.
“You!”

Keris reached behind her and
grasped her staff. “Get out of my way, Ferenek.”

Ferenek did not
move. “I should have known when you turned up with that…that
thing
, that you were up
to no good.” Keris felt her ire kindle at the description of Boxx.
“Why would a Keltar, a sworn servant of the Prophet, turn against
their own? Answer me!”