Strife In The Sky (Book 7) (7 page)

The air was like a long lost friend. The bewildered faces of the guards were not. Two lowered their spears and charged. Gorlee snatched them up in his hands, bopped their heads together, and tossed them into The Deep. 

He turned and found himself inside the cage. His head peered over the fifteen-foot-tall gate. He looked at all the startled faces and growled, scattering the gathering crowd. The soldiers readied weapons and spears. One shouted up at him.

“You get back in that well! That’s an order!”

Gorlee grabbed the metal bars and ripped them out of the floor one by one. He stepped through the threshold, throttled all the Soldiers of Barnabus he could get his hands on, and fled into the night.

I’m free!

CHAPTER 16

High Priestess Selene broke the grand table in half with her black tail.

Crack!

“How did this happen?” she demanded. “Escape from The Deep is impossible!” She walked up to Kryzak and wrapped her tail around his neck. “Isn’t it?”

The big draykis was rather calm when he said, “It was until now.”

She squeezed a little harder, turning his face purple, and released him.

Kryzak gasped and rubbed his throat.

Selene’s tail swished back and forth. Her lip curled. She didn’t completely understand what had just occurred. Days ago, she’d sent Nath Dragon into The Deep. She had doubts it was really him. Something was not quite right, but time in The Deep would reveal any man’s secrets. And The Deep held its own secret. She resumed her seat on the throne and sat down. The drulture flew over and nestled on her lap. She shooed it away. With a growl, out the window it went.

“Tell me what happened once more,” she said to Kryzak. The war cleric wasn’t alone, either. Ten guards were there that witnessed the event. Four draykis stood ready in the room.

Kryzak cleared his throat.

“A triant emerged.”

Selene huffed.

“Tore out the bars of the cage like candlesticks off a table and throttled a dozen guards.”

“And it wasn’t the triant Bletver?” she said, toying with her silky hair.

“The phantom states that Bletver remains below,” Kryzak said, taking a breath, “but he’s incapacitated. And there are no signs of Nath Dragon. We just have these.” He held out the trousers that Gorlee had been wearing and draped them over the back of the chair.

“And what is the phantom’s excuse?”

“It offered none.”

“And the triant,” she said, “it just disappeared? All fifteen feet tall of it, assuming your little soldiers aren’t exaggerating.”

“A hundred soldiers comb the streets,” Kryzak said, “and I swear we’ll catch this—”

“You’ll catch nothing!” she said, rising to her feet. “You suppose you can find anything The Deep cannot contain!” Her voice echoed in the chamber. She rubbed her head. She sighed. “But you can try, Kryzak. And I’ll even offer your soldiers some incentive.” She eyed the soldiers kneeling face first on the floor. “For every hour you do not find him, two soldiers will die. And I believe an hour has passed already.”

“As you wish,” Kryzak said in his deep voice. He nodded at the draykis and pointed at two soldiers on the floor.

The draykis pulled their swords.

“No blood on these floors,” Kryzak said, nodding at the terrace.

The draykis picked the two men up by their arms and legs and dragged them to the terrace.

“Mercy, High Priestess! Mercy!” the soldiers begged.

She resumed her seat on the throne and watched them squirm in the clutches of the draykis. One by one, the draykis heaved each soldier’s body over the balcony. She could hear their screams until they hit the bottom.

“That should motivate them,” she said to Kryzak. “I suggest you get moving. Another hour will be upon you by the time you reach the bottom.”

“I was just thinking the same thing.” He pointed to two more.

The draykis snatched them up, hauled them to the terrace, and heaved them over the balcony wall.

Selene offered a faint smile.

“I’m fond of people screaming. It soothes me on bright and sunny days.”

Kryzak bowed and led the rest of the draykis and soldiers outside, leaving her alone in the grand chamber.

“Something is amiss,” she said to herself. She made her way to the terrace and looked below. A crowd had gathered around the soldiers’ corpses. Her sharp eyes could see their faces, and her sharp ears could hear their cries. She shoved a planter off the railing and watched it crush someone. “That’s better.”

She leaned back against the terrace rail and wondered. The man she met could not have been Nath Dragon, or could he have been? Did Nath Dragon have powers she didn’t know about? Who should she ask? Gorn Grattack? Her dragon master might not like that, not that he liked anything, other than destruction.

Who was he? Who was it?

Not knowing felt like needles in her spine. She had her suspicions, and that’s why she had sent him to The Deep, but the creature had escaped. That was unforeseen. It rattled her. Control had slipped from her grasp.

She made a high-pitched whistle with her lips and waited on the terrace, watching the dark clouds drift over the city and into the country. Her drulture flew over and landed on the rail. She gave it a command. It flew away and contacted the roosted dragons in the city. They’d help keep a look-out for anything that was not ordinary. She crossed her arms over her chest and said, “I’m not sure that will do.” She let out another whistle, different than the last, and made her way over to the map.

“So, Nath Dragon, if you are not here, then where might you be?” She circled a spot with her black fingernail. “Perhaps that was you after all, making a statement at Jordak’s Pass. I’ve a missing grey scaler to show for it, and a host of soldiers wiped out.” She traced her finger over the map and stopped on the River Cities. “When you show your claws, we’ll be ready.”

Something roared behind her and she turned.

The feline fury prowled inside from the terrace. Its lion face had very long whiskers, and smoke rolled from its nose. The horse-sized creature brushed along her side. She stroked the mane above the neck and rubbed the scales on its back.

“How are your wings working out?” she said, toying with the leathery things. “You continue to mature into a fine, fine beast. And your new wings are just what we needed.” She pointed to a spot on the map. “Do you remember our old friend Nath Dragon?”

It snorted a blast of smoke.

“We need to find our guest, who was his imposter.” She grabbed the trousers that Kryzak had left on the chair and held them under the feline fury’s nose. “I need you to hunt our guest down, immediately. Can you do this?”

Its cat eyes narrowed, and the scales on its back rose. On silent paws, it headed for the terrace and bounded over the rail.

“You might have escaped The Deep, but you won’t escape me.” She eyed another spot on the map. The City of Quintuklen. “Perhaps it’s time to play another card of mine.”

CHAPTER 17

Ben headed into the river town with his eyes up and shoulders down. His dagger felt heavy on his hip, and his hand drifted to the hilt from time to time.

Should be easy, shouldn’t it?

He rubbed his face, which still tingled.

It has to be working, right?

He peeled through some branches and found himself on a road that ran along the river, about three miles from where he left the others behind. He kept his eyes forward. Ahead, people were coming and going from what looked to be a hard day of work. The faces he passed were weathered, and their eyes were weary. They shuffled by with little urgency, and their glances went right over him and beyond.

It is working.

He lengthened his stride, passing a pair of old men pushing a cart of produce. They grumbled at his glance.

Yes, it is working.

Small storage buildings and cottages lined the road the closer he got the city. Hard voices were moving commerce on the loading docks. Hoists and pulleys and sweaty bodies on loaded barges. Armored figures watched over it. The glint of armor and weapons caught his eye. He slowed his pace.

Soldiers were everywhere. Orcs and men. The blazoned dragon-head banner waved high in the air. A lonely feeling sunk into Ben’s belly, and he shuffled from the road into the shadows.

At first glance, the River Cities were picturesque, appealing. Up close though, the whitewashed buildings weren’t so bright, but gray. Mold covered the roofs. Overgrowth blocked the windows. If not for the river breeze, the foulness in the air would not be bearable.

A stone archway hung over the road leading into the city. Several guards stood watch with spears, checking the people coming and going. They patted men down and shoved others to the road. They chuckled with wickedness, watching the people go.

From the back of the line, Ben eased his way forward while another group’s cart was kept behind and inspected. A half-orcen man with a warty face cut him off. He was tall and lean for the breed.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I have no gear to inspect,” Ben said, “and I’m just passing through.”

The soldier poked him in the chest.

“Not with that hardware, you’re not,” it said, peering closer at him. “Take it off.”

What is going on? Why is this orc bothering me? Avert! Avert!

Ben’s hand slipped to a dagger hidden under his cloak.

He said, “I’m just passing through. Looking for work. I can work the docks or sell my services with a sword.”

A pair of other soldiers flanked him.

This is bad in so many ways.

“What seems to be the problem, Harvath?”

“This one carries a dagger,” Harvath said, poking Ben in the chest again.

“Oh,” the soldier said. He was a beefy man, but stout and seasoned, “he has a dagger, does he? And let me guess, you think he’s going to take it to us. The hundreds of us?” He laughed and so did the other. “Methinks you just don’t like this fella cause he’s a might more,” he stared at Ben for a moment, and blinked his eyes, “unappealing than you are.”

“I’m a hard worker,” Ben interjected.

“Uh,” the soldier said, shaking his head, “I’m sure you are. Just head on through.”

“But,” Harvath objected.

“No buts, Harvath. Let this poor fellow go. I’ve more important things to do.”

“I can help you,” Ben said with a grin. “I’m a really hard worker. I really am.”

The sergeant’s eyes got really big.

“Don’t make me turn you around. If you can find someone who’ll hire you, then good fortune to you. But you won’t be working for me. Now go!”

Ben nodded and headed into the city. He could still hear Harvath arguing with the sergeant with each and every step.

“Something about that man,” Harvath said, “I tell you.”

“Find someone else to bother, Harvath.”

Ben kept his smile to himself, walking along the wharf until he found the sign that read: The Water Dog Inn. He pushed the door open, and inside he went. Dozens of hardened stares greeted him and at the same time looked away. Their rugged conversations continued. Ben sauntered up to a stool at the end of the bar. A man the size of two people glanced over at him and moved one stool farther away.

This must be how Brenwar feels.

A bartender came over wiping his hands on a rag and said, “What will it be?” His eyes were smoky, like darkened glass.

“Coffee,” Ben said.

“Better make it ale,” the old man said under his breath. “I may be blind, but I can still see, Stranger.”

Ben swallowed.

“Ale it is.”

The blind bartender shuffled away and returned with a large tankard.

“I can’t drink all of this?”

“You will, and that will be twenty bits of gold.”

“What?”

“Twenty gold,” the old man warned, “else I expose your sorcery.”

Ben stiffened.

“But I don’t have twenty gold.”

“That’s too bad then,” the old man said. “Heh, heh. Too bad indeed. Riik!”

A shadow rose behind him and busted a club over his back. Everything went black.

CHAPTER 18

Dawn broke over the river, and Ben had not returned.

“He should have been back by now,” Brenwar said, pacing back and forth.

“Just give him some more time,” Nath said. “An hour, and if he doesn’t return we’ll do something.

“Certainly he made it to the Water Dog Inn,” Bayzog said. “If we go in, we can start from there.”

Nath’s thoughts drifted to Gorlee. The Chameleon should have been with them. They’d come to rely on him heavily. He wondered how he and the dwarves were doing.

“So who goes in?” Brenwar said, combing his beard. “We can’t send one more in and risk losing another. Those soldiers are bound to recognize us, aversion balm or not.”

“There’s always a potion,” Bayzog said, “And I have spells.”

“Keep your trickery to yourself,” Brenwar said. “But since you’re volunteering …” Brenwar gave Bayzog a shove. “Get going.”

“Are you mad, Dwarf?”

“Am I mad? Is my beard black? Are your ears pointed?” He stomped his foot. “You bet I’m mad!”

“Keep your voice down,” Nath said. “Someone’s coming.”

Each one of them concealed himself in the forest. Nath could hear two approaching pairs of footsteps. One heavy. Another light. Two figures emerged from the grove. An old man hung on the arm of a brute the size of two stout men.

“You can come out,” the old man said. He wore common clothing, and his eyes were smoky. “I might be blind, but I still see everything.”

“They fear us, Father,” the brute said. His head was shaven, and his bare arms bulged like tree trunks out of his leather jerkin. A long heavy club hung from his free arm. “As they should. I’ll break them the same as I broke their comrade.”

Nath stepped out from behind the tree. Brenwar did the same.

The brute grunted and sneered at Nath.

“This one has hair like a woman’s.”