Roar, page 6
He saw them move, escaped from their boxes of anger, frustration and hatred and step into the corridors between them which weren't so well lit by years of emotion. He saw them moving cautiously down the corridors, gathering together, preparing themselves.
Then without warning there was a startled cry, and violence erupted.
The guards cried out. There was panic and terror, anger and hatred, and there was death. That was the harshness of being a wizard. He didn't actually feel the pain of those who had been hurt and killed. But he saw it in a way no others could. He could see the pain. The worst of it was that he knew it was in part his doing. He might not have struck the blow, but he had given those who had the chance to do it.
Thorm dropped his head and said a silent prayer to Zara. He did not want to have this blood on his hands. He did not want to have any blood on them. He had been raised to live an honourable life. It was the way his family lived. The Endorsons were a righteous family. Always honourable and fair in their dealings. They had never dealt in death or blood. It was one reason his parents had never wanted him to become a gunsmith. Guns killed people. And no matter the craftsmanship involved in their creation, that could not be forgotten.
But he consoled himself with the understanding that weapons were not responsible for what people did with them. The same weapon that was used to murder and kill, could be used to defend a home and hunt for food. He was not responsible for what people did with his guns.
Mercifully the battle was short. The cries were muffled and cut off quickly. The guards were killed before they could raise the alarm. Thorm felt immense relief that the pain and blood were quickly washed away from his wizard's sight. And then he saw the overwhelming sense of wonderment and disbelief as the prisoners realised they were free. He shared it with them. But that moment of brief jubilation among them was quickly cut off by the fear that others would come and they would be returned to their cells.
Thorm though didn't have time to celebrate with them or give in to their fear. He still had two doors to open. The two halves of the grate above his head. They were more difficult. Not because they were locked – he managed to unlock them as easily as any other door – but because they were heavy. Magic had its limits, and simply pushing the grate covers upwards on their hinges was a little beyond his. It wasn't a spell he had often used. Fortunately, they weren't meant to be lifted that way. It would take too much effort. So each side of the huge steel grate was connected by a steel rope to a winder on the wall behind it.
Another spell soon had the winders turning slowly and the two sides of the grate lifting up, exposing the way out of the dungeon for all to see. And of course the prisoners could all hear the clanking as the winders turned and the grates slowly lifted up. It wasn't long before heads appeared in the dungeon above him. Thankfully from where the former prisoners were standing, they couldn't see anything in the darkness below. Only the disturbed reflection of the light from above on the water below as it flowed. And while they surely knew it was the sewer below, they had no way to know how great the fall was. Which was why he had to cast a spell of light to let them see down into the darkness.
Thorm of course had to back away a little further then. Who would jump down into a sewer if they could see a lion sitting there, waiting for them? But still even when he was safely hidden in the shadows, he could see the ring of faces at the top of the open grate staring nervously down into the sewer wondering if they dared jump. Some of them had narrow faces and torn ears.
It wasn't long before he saw the first of the prisoners jump and heard the splash as the man hit the water. Almost immediately the man's head bobbed up above the water and Thorm watched as he was carried away by the current. Moments later he heard the man cry out in triumph.
The man's cry was a signal to the other prisoners and moments later Thorn saw what looked like a deluge from above as people hurried to follow his example. They didn't know what lay ahead of them, but they knew what they were escaping. Thorn though did know what lay ahead. And he knew that as long as they went with the current they would ultimately escape the city. The water flowed directly out of the city. And since twelve bells had passed, there was unlikely to be anyone who would see them.
Unfortunately some of the people weren't so happy to just let the river carry them to freedom. He saw a couple of the escapees try swimming for the walkways, and others even trying to swim against the current. Why, he didn't know. What he did know was that some of them were more successful than others. Something that was proven to him when he spotted a hand swinging through the air, then heard it crash down on the walkway barely ten feet from him. Moments later a second hand joined it, and then a head pulled itself above the surface of the walkway.
Time seemed to stop then for a moment as the prisoner, a blonde woman, started trying to haul herself out of the water, while he wondered what to do. Should he back away further into the darkness before she saw him? Or just hold his ground? And then it was too late. She reached out with one arm to get a better grip on the walkway, and in doing so turned her head in his direction.
And then she stopped dead.
She'd seen him. He could see the look of shock on her face, followed by one of growing terror as she realised she was face to face with a lion.
Thorm instinctively tried to tell her not to panic as he didn't mean her any harm. But he'd forgotten that he had no voice and so what came out of his throat was a soft, confused growl. One that was swiftly followed by the woman's terrified scream – just before she let go of the walkway and disappeared back into the dark, bad smelling water.
That hurt. It made him feel like a monster. But he saw her head bobbing up in the water as she floated away and knew that she hadn't been harmed. In fact he'd freed her. Still he didn't want to be seen as a monster. He didn't want people to be terrified of him.
Maybe it was actually a good thing he told himself. It was better that people stayed away from him. That no one knew there was a lion on the loose in the sewers. He couldn’t afford for the guards to ever find that out. In any case there was nothing he could do about it.
So Thorm quietly watched her go and put aside his pain. He watched all of them go in time, waiting until all of the prisoners had exited the dungeon before beginning work on the last part of his plan. He needed to cover their escape.
While he couldn’t do much he could at least slow the pursuit down. That began with locking shut the huge wooden door that sealed the dungeon off from the barracks above. The magic was easy enough, and he knew it would take the soldiers time when they didn't get a response from the guards inside the dungeon, to break in and find that it was empty.
He also stole the light from the room. A simple spell of darkness that he knew would confuse and slow down the soldiers when they finally arrived. Of course it would also tell them that a wizard had been involved in the escape. But they would probably guess that anyway and they still wouldn't know who he was or where to look for him.
His work finally done, Thorm set off after the others. It was then that he realised he didn’t actually have to follow them quite so closely. He knew where the sewer met the river and where the prisoners would eventually be deposited. He could follow there more slowly. After that he would follow the hamadryads – all the way to Erisen if necessary – and hope that along the way he would learn something of their magic, be it by watching what they were doing or listening in on their conversations.
It was time for him to finally leave the city.
Chapter Five
It was cold on the river bank. Very cold. Camille found it hard to stop shivering. But then it had been even colder in the river. In the foul smelling sewer, as she and the others had been carried along through the darkness, wondering where they were going and when their journey would end. Or for a time, if it would ever end. Because for a time it had seemed to be as eternal as the King himself. At other times she had thought it would end with her drowning. Drowning in a river of foul smelling sewage.
But just as she had been beginning to lose hope, her fear of drowning in the darkness had unexpectedly ended. One moment she had been spinning around in the darkness, feeling sick and wondering if it had been a mistake to try and escape, the next there had been light – moon light – and she had hit something hard. It had been a metal grate. Her feet had slid out and then under it. The moment after that she had found herself flying through the air as the underground river had become a waterfall that fell down into the river outside the city. The river Atar.
For ages she had allowed herself to continue floating down the river rather than head for the river bank. She had been lost in the beauty of the sky and moon above her. To her it was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen. The moon was so big and round and silvery. So wondrous as it had floated serenely above her. For a time it had even made her forget the cold.
Eventually though, the river itself had reclaimed her attention, as it had taken a sharp bend and somehow washed her up on an embankment, where she had found many others already there ahead of her. And eventually she had found the wit to crawl out of the slowly flowing water to be among them. To be safe and free and most of all outside of the dungeon that had been her home for the last three years.
After that she had simply lain there in the long grass, doing nothing at all – until her body's shivering had started to remind her she had work to do. She had to survive. And that would not be easy.
Her clothes, which were really little more than rags, were soaking wet. It was also some time in the wee hours of the morning, and the night air was beyond chilly. She was so cold that she couldn't stop shaking. She was really just lucky she thought, that it wasn't the middle of winter. Then she would have already frozen to death. They all would have. The water had been so cold it had numbed her hands and feet and stolen her strength. And by the time she had pulled herself out of the river when she had hit the bank and seen the others she had been close to the end.
The others were in the same condition. Exhausted and cold. Wringing out their clothes with their hands, moaning a little about the cold, stamping their feet and shaking their arms if they had the strength to stand up and do that. Not all did. Some had been in the dungeon a very, very long time. Longer than her three years. Some had been tortured and crippled. They would find it hard to walk, let alone run. They would all have to do that however, if they didn’t want to be caught again. And in a matter of hours the guards would start chasing them.
But at least they were free!
The Eternal City was perhaps half a league behind them. Ahead of her lay fields of waist high tussock grass. It was a sight she had long ago given up on seeing again.
For the first time in many years she could see light in the sky above. Moonlight instead of firelight from torches. She could feel soft earth under her feet instead of cold stone. The air was fresh and untainted by the smell of blood and piss. And she could walk more than a dozen feet without hitting something.
As she sat there trying to ring out the water from her clothes with her hands, the wonder of being free kept running through her. At times it almost threatened to overwhelm her. But she knew she couldn't allow that to happen. Because she knew that it wouldn’t be long before soldiers from the Eternal City came after them. If she wanted to remain free she had to get moving. Giving in to her emotions wouldn’t help her.
Others were not so focused. One woman was busy telling everyone who would listen of the monster she had seen in the sewers. A great shaggy beast with white fur and emerald eyes. Perhaps she'd suffered too much in the dungeon and it had affected her mind? Others were letting their emotions overcome them. Laughing and crying like drunkards lost in their cups. Many were just sitting or lying there on the grass, unmoving and silent. Much as she had been not long before.
But she could not waste time indulging in such things. Soon, no matter how tired she was, and how much she wanted to simply lie down and rest, she was ready. Camille grabbed her small bundle of hastily gathered supplies she'd taken from the dungeon – mostly some old clothing – and stood up to leave. It was time to go.
“Where are you going?” A man sitting on the grass not far from Camille called out to her.
“Away from here. I don't know who in all the hells freed us or how – there aren't supposed to be any wizards running free in the realm – but I do know that in a few hours the poxy guards will discover our escape. They'll know we went through the sewers. And they know where the outflow is. I don't want to be here when they come for us.”
And they would come for them. She knew that. There would be soldiers on their trail within hours. They would come for the escapees simply because it was their duty and they didn't like prisoners escaping. It would also represent a humiliation to the Eternal King and no doubt there would be punishments handed out if they didn't find them and return them. Severe punishments. The soldiers would come for the hamadryads with even greater zeal. She didn't know why the hamadryads had been captured and imprisoned – the dungeon was a quiet place as the prisoners were not allowed to talk – but she knew that the Eternal King could never allow Erisen to learn that he had imprisoned some of their own. It could end up in war. And most of all they would come for her. Because she was the leverage they used to force her mother's cooperation. She would be hunted.
“You think a wizard freed us?”
“Who else? The doors all unlocked and swung open by themselves. And the grate to the sewers was wound up by an invisible man. Who or what else could do that?”
She was surprised she even had to say that. It had been confusing at the time, first with the short battle with the guards and then with the sudden rush to escape. Everyone had been out of their cells and grabbing whatever they thought might be useful as they tried to work out their next move, and no one had understood much at the time. But still she had still seen those things clearly. They all had. Then again maybe he hadn't seen what had happened. Maybe the man had been sleeping when the cell doors had opened, and not in the main chamber when the grate had been being wound up. She didn't know.
“Then shouldn't he be here?”
“Don't know.” She shrugged helplessly. “I don't know why he freed us. And I don't care. I just want to stay free. I'm never going back to that dungeon again.”
“She's right.” Another man spoke up and unlike the one before him he didn't seem to have any questions. “We have to go.”
It was hard to tell in the darkness but Camille thought he might be one of the hamadryads. He looked thin and she was sure she could see shadows rippled across his face in the moonlight as if his skin was dappled. Also, his clothes were still in reasonable condition, suggesting he hadn't been in the dungeon as long as others. On the other hand the light was poor and all the prisoners were thin and covered in filth. And the man's dark hair was long, covering his ears. So she couldn't see if they were ripped and torn like a hamadryad's. But whatever he was, he agreed with her and that was all that mattered.
“We have to be long gone from here by dawn when the next change of guards happens.” She continued. “At that point they'll know we've escaped and the King will send the soldiers after us. And the chances are that they won't bring us back to the dungeon. They'll just kill us.”
“She speaks the truth,” the man agreed with her. “It'll be best if we separate. Most of us have places we want to go. My people and I will head south for Erisen. Those who want to come with us for a way can. But you will have to be willing to march hard. Those who can't walk may be better getting back in the river and letting it carry them east as far as it can. And those who want to go elsewhere had also better get moving too. Because the further we can travel tonight and in as many directions as possible, the better everyone’s chances are of remaining free.”
“That's a bad plan!” A dark haired woman who was busy attending to the blonde woman babbling about green eyed beasts, objected. “Even the village idiot would know that! If we get separated we get caught. Alone we're weak and slow. And our families will pay for our trying to escape. We need to stay together.”
“And are you a war master?” The man retorted.
“No, I'm one thing better than that. I'm a woman!” She started binding the blonde woman's leg up with makeshift bandages.
“She's right,” Camille agreed. “We can't simply head into the rest of the Plains and disappear. If nothing else the soldiers would be waiting for us at the bridges to the east. We'd be rounded up quickly. If we tried to creep back into the city under the cover of darkness, it would be the same. And I don't think anyone would survive much longer in that damned river. So we have to leave, and it has to be through the southern forest. But that's big enough that we can get lost in it.”
“We should stay together – at least until we reach the far side of the forest. We will move more quickly as a group. Share our resources and skills. And it's warmer. That's the smart plan.”
“Well it's not our plan! Soldiers arise! Gather your charges and let us go!” The hamadryad gave the command and immediately a score or more of the dark figures got to their feet. And then they started helping others up.
