Quest's End: The Broken Key #3 (46 page)

The rest of the stockade looked pretty much as it had before. Seth and Soth must have done a good job in fooling the porters in believing everything was alright. But how much longer would that last? With the setting of the sun imminent, there could be a change of watch. Definitely the men who were deep in the mine would be coming out for food and rest. Bart felt that time was quickly running out.

“There doesn’t appear to be any increase in the number of men,” announced Kevik.

Bart glanced over to him and said, “See if you can determine how many are up there.”

“I’ll try,” replied Kevik.

When Seth finally joined them, he asked, “The key wasn’t there?”

“No,” Riyan informed him. “We believe it may be in the possession of the River Man.”

“That’s not good,” responded Seth.

“Any trouble?” Bart asked him.

“Not really,” he replied. “A couple of the men bound in the tents started regaining consciousness. But we made quick work of them.” Then he pointed to the center of the camp where the largest tent stood. “We put them all in there.”

Riyan indicated the men on the steps coming down from the top. “What about them?” he asked.

“Just hired porters,” he explained. “They come and go with the wagons.”

Bart nodded as he gazed at the two nearing the bottom. “Take em out and put them with the others,” he told Seth. As Seth was about to leave, he added, “Make sure you do it so the other two near the top aren’t tipped off.”

“You got it,” he replied. Hurrying off, he made his way back to the camp.

“What do you have in mind?” Riyan asked.

“Not sure yet,” admitted Bart. “But one thing’s for sure, we don’t want them on the steps transporting crates when we make our move.” Then he moved closer to Kevik and gazed at the image in the bowl.

Kevik noticed him and said, “I’ve seen thirty armed men which may be guards of one kind or another. Another fifteen are civilians.”

“Up the steps is the only way out of here if we don’t want to float down the river,” observed Bart. “And without a raft or boat, that isn’t a very viable option.”

Down at the camp, Soth had appeared from the large tent wherein their captives were being held. He, Chad, and Chyfe were speaking together as they kept an eye on the men coming down the cliff. In short order, they were joined by Seth. Bart watched as they began moving into position to take out the porters descending the steps.

“I think I may have an idea,” he said. Turning to Kevik, he added, “It’s going to depend heavily on your magical ability.”

Kevik glanced up from the image in the bowl and met his eyes a moment before nodding. “What did you have in mind?”

“We’re going to have to move fast,” explained Bart. “Once the last porter is off the steps and taken, we go. Here’s the plan…”

As he spelled it out, Kevik began nodding. “I think that might work,” he agreed, then sighed. He was growing rather tired. The exertions of the last few days were beginning to wear on him.

“Good,” replied Bart. Glancing back to the camp, he saw that the first two porters had been dealt with and were being carried to the large tent. The remaining two on the cliff continued down, oblivious to what was transpiring at the bottom. To Riyan and Kevik he said, “Let’s go.”

Wagon Master Coric was growing steadily impatient with the porters who had gone down to retrieve the last four crates he required before he could leave. They had yet to return. “I’ll skin them alive if they make me late,” he threatened.

The driver of the wagon waiting for the crates just shook his head. Wagon Master Coric was always threatening about this or that. Rarely did he ever follow through on it. Those who had been with him longest knew it was just his way.

Moving to the top of the steps, Wagon Master Coric looked down to see about his slow footed porters. He saw several men at the base of the steps beginning to make their way up. “About time,” he said.

All of a sudden, the view to the bottom grew obscured. He wasn’t at all sure what it was. Then a wind began blowing forcefully out of the canyon. “What?” he asked himself just as a wall of yellowish fog rolled over the cliff’s edge and enveloped him. He only had a moment to wonder at this strange occurrence before consciousness left him.

“Nice,” commented Bart.

Above them, Kevik had cast half a dozen of his sleep clouds. Then he had cast his wind spell to blow its vapors up and over into the stockade. With any luck, by the time he and the others reached the edge of the vaporous clouds, everyone in the stockade would be unconscious.

With the winds blowing, Bart led the way up the steps. Behind him came Chyfe then Riyan. Kevik followed closely with the twins and Chad bringing up the rear.

“Watch out!” Bart hollered as a dark shape plummeted down toward them from the top. It was a body, probably someone who had been too close to the edge of the cliff when the vaporous cloud of sleep had rolled over the top. When the man hit the side of the canyon wall on his way down, he failed to make any noise. He struck three more times before finally coming to rest at the bottom.

Riyan glanced upward to the top where the vaporous cloud of Kevik’s sleep spell was being whipped by his wind spell. Other than the movement of the cloud, the area was still.

“Come on,” Bart said as he resumed his climb to the top. Moving quickly, he took the steps two at a time as he flew to the top. He continuously cast glances for any movement up there, and was glad to find none. Bart finally came to a stop when he was within ten steps of where the vaporous cloud began. At this point, the wind of Kevik’s spell was blowing fairly strong.

On the steps far below, he could see Kevik bringing up the rear as he ascended very slowly. The magic user wasn’t in the best of shape for this kind of exertion, his kind rarely were. Already, Chad and the twins had bypassed him.

“Kevik!” Bart yelled down but his words were lost amidst the sound of the wind. When the magic user failed to respond, he grew frustrated. Just then, the wind spell came to an end.

With the roar of the wind gone, Bart was about to yell again when he saw the yellow cloud of the sleep spell begin falling toward him. Without the wind pushing it upward, the vapors began moving downward. “Kevik!” Bart yelled as he backed down the steps, his eyes glued to the wall of yellowish fog growing ever closer.

Ten steps further down, he heard Riyan yell, “Kevik! Cancel the spell!”

The fog was beginning to pick up speed and was rapidly overtaking Bart. If it hit him while he was on the steps, his fate might be the same as the man who had plummeted to his death.

Then it was gone. Glancing back down the steps he saw Kevik wave to him. Waving back, Bart once again took the steps quickly to the top. Riyan and Chyfe weren’t far behind. Then came the twins and Chad, with Kevik fifty steps even further down, huffing and puffing as he tried to keep up.

Two at a time, Bart raced up the steps toward the top of the cliff face. When he was ten steps away, he slowed his pace. From previous times Kevik had used his sleep spell, he knew that once it was dispelled, those caught within it would begin to regain consciousness. It could take up to ten minutes before they would completely rid themselves of its effects, but some overcame it faster than others.

Bart clutched a dart in his right hand, another three were gripped in his left. The top of the cliff was still deserted, and so he crept up the last few steps until he came to the top.

“Be careful,” advised Riyan from where he crouched on the step below his friend.

Not taking his eyes from the top, Bart nodded in reply. Then moving carefully, he edged forward and peered over to the top of the cliff.

Within a wide arc starting at the top of the steps, men who had been knocked unconscious by Kevik’s spell were beginning to stir. The fifth wagon they had seen in Kevik’s bowl, stood not far from the top step. Its two horses were weakly struggling in their traces to regain their feet since the sleep spell had affected them too. The driver lay across the buckboard, his head lolling to one side as he moved about feebly.

Movement caught Bart’s eye and he saw a group of seven men far off to the right. They were staring at the men lying on the ground with fear on their faces. The vaporous cloud must not have reached where they had been. Other than those seven men, everyone else looked to have succumbed to its effect.

Bart turned to Riyan and pointed off to the right. “Seven men,” he said.

“Guards?” Riyan asked as he peered over to see.

Peering over the top again, Bart looked and saw that only two were armed. “Two,” he said. “The others could be workers.” Beyond the seven men he saw a sight that filled him with joy. Four horses stood in a small corral. He would have preferred seven, but four was better than nothing. The rest of the horses that had been in the camp, including the draft horses for the wagons, had all been affected. They couldn’t afford to wait for them to recover, as by that time, everyone else in the camp would have too.

“Ready?” asked Bart.

Riyan nodded and gripped the hilt of his sword.

He turned his gaze back to the seven men. One of the two armed men was now kneeling at the side of another who was coming back to consciousness. In fact, the whole camp was stirring. Two men by the gate had already regained their feet and were shuffling about trying to help their comrades.

“Let’s go,” Bart said. Leaping from his crouched position, he landed on the top of the cliff and bolted to the right. Before he had taken his second step, the first dart was already on its way toward the kneeling man.

Bart saw one of the unarmed men take notice of him but it didn’t immediately register that he was a threat. But when the first dart struck and the man cried out, they knew.

“Attack!” one cried out. “We’re under attack!”

A dart struck the second armed man just as he was drawing his sword. Moving toward Bart, he only took three steps before the dart’s poison hit the blood stream and began to take its toll.

Bart threw another dart as the man stumbled and hit the ground. “Get the horses,” he yelled.

When the unarmed men saw the second man drop, they fled toward the far edge of the stockade. They didn’t stop until they reached the drop-off.

Not being a threat, Bart didn’t waste any time in subduing them. Glancing back, he saw Chyfe standing at the top of the cliff with sword in hand as he quickly took in the camp.

Bart got his attention and shouted, “Stay there and protect the others.”

Chyfe nodded. Moving to the top of the steps, he took position there to guard those still on the steps from any threat. Chad joined him after he reached the top.

Riyan was already saddling one of the horses when Bart joined him. Nodding over to a tent situated nearby, he said, “Saddles and tack are in there.”

“Right,” replied Bart. Hurrying within the tent, he soon emerged with a saddle and blanket. As he began to saddle one of the horses, he saw Seth and Soth appear at the top of the steps. They glanced in his direction and he pointed over to the gate. “The gate!” he yelled.

Seth nodded, then he and his brother raced through the rapidly recovering men on their way to get the gate open. One soldier tried to reach out and grab Soth’s ankle as he passed, but Soth easily avoided him.

At the gate, men were shambling about as they continuously worked to overcome the affects of the spell. A couple even had their swords out and were moving toward the twins.

“I’ll take ‘em brother,” Seth said as he drew his sword. “You get the gate.” As Soth raced for the wooden beam keeping the gate closed, Seth moved to engage those who had shaken off the affects enough to become a nuisance.

Chad turned toward Seth as the clang of sword striking sword was heard. Glancing back down the steps, he saw that Kevik had paused twenty steps from the top to catch his breath. The magic user was leaning heavily upon his staff and breathing laboriously.

“Hurry up!” Chad hollered down to him. “The affects of your spell is wearing off fast.”

“I’m…” Kevik said, then stopped to gasp as he took in air, “I’m going as fast as I can.”

Chad and Chyfe watched as Kevik moved a foot to the next step and resumed his climb to the top.

“Think we should go down and carry him?” asked Chyfe.

When Chad looked to him, he saw the Catha-born fighter grinning. He shook his head. Then he drew his sword and pushed Chyfe aside as he blocked the downward swing of a sword gripped in both hands of a guard. “No,” Chad replied as he knocked the sword to the side. “We have other things to worry about.” Kicking out with his foot, he sent the guard sprawling backwards.

Behind the guard, a dozen other individuals had regained sufficient equilibrium to walk and draw their swords. Five of them were on their way to the corral where Riyan and Bart were busily saddling the last two horses, the other seven moved toward Chad and Chyfe. Further back in the camp near the buildings, one man in armor was shouting as he ordered his men to their feet. At least that’s what Chad thought he was doing as his speech was so slurred, the man’s words couldn’t be understood.

“Oh…man,” a breathless Kevik said from behind Chad. Glancing back, Chad saw the magic user standing but four steps from the top.

“Give me a hand,” Kevik said. “I…” All of a sudden, his eyes rolled up into the back of his head, his face turned pale, and fainted.

Chad immediately raced down and reached him just as the magic user was about to roll off the steps and plummet to the ground far below. “Kevik!” Chad yelled as he dragged him securely back onto the steps. Once Kevik was no longer in danger of slipping off, Chad raised one of Kevik’s eyelids and found him unresponsive. He put his ear to his chest and thankfully heard the lub-dub beat of Kevik’s heart. “Thank god you’re alive,” he said.

With sword once again in its scabbard, Chad picked up the unconscious magic user and his staff and carried them the remaining distance to the top. “Guess we should have carried you after all,” he said softly to himself.

Kevik had had little time to recuperate from the ordeal of passing through the Wrath of Hennon before he had been asked to cast spells. Then the time spent beneath the ground searching for the key, more spells, followed by an arduous climb to the top of the canyon walls. No wonder he had passed out. He simply wasn’t cut out for such exertion.