Chapter 9
Breaker of Chains
Campo di Malo, Zenone Province, Anedetto Region, Ilyria
It took three days for Toma and the others to reach their destination, the notorious Campo di Malo. It was an internment camp for prisoners of war near the border. It hadn't been used much in recent years, obviously, but now that the Ilyrians had invaded Greland, they were back in business.
The camp wasn't all that large. There was an outer fence with watchtowers about every 200 meters and then an inner fence for the main prison compound. The prison was divided into two sections with barracks and such, much the same as the accommodations for the garrison. Between the two sections was what looked like an ancient stone donjon, which may have been the original fort from hundreds of years ago. The donjon was where they were sent.
As they were being unloaded from the carriage, they saw what appeared to be some two hundred captured Grelish soldiers being marched into the eastern block of the compound.
"Nothin' to see," one of the soldiers minding them growled. "Get movin'."
The lieutenant dismounted and told two of his men, "Fastucci, Carlino, bring the prisoners' effects."
One of the soldiers nudged Toma with the butt of his rifle to keep him moving. The heavy wooden door to the donjon appeared to be rotting and once inside, their noses were assailed with the stench of mold and other things you didn't want to think about too much.
Not far from the entrance was a sergeant sitting at a desk. Upon seeing the lieutenant, he shot up and shouted, "Attention!"
The nearby guards stood at attention while the sergeant saluted the lieutenant.
"Sir!"
"I've got some new arrivals for you, Sergeant," the lieutenant said, returning the salute. "Oh, as you were."
The sergeant sat back down and took up his pen. Opening the logbook, he then asked, "Names?"
"I'm pretty sure they're just fake names," the lieutenant said, "so don't bother."
"Shall I call in the Professor to get the truth out of them, sir?"
"No. They're not to be touched. We have reason to believe these are the fugitives wanted by Zadok. Remember, any harm comes to them and we answer to that Dragon woman."
"Understood, sir," the sergeant replied. "In that case, Special Prisoner Female Number One, Male Number One, and Male Number Two."
The lieutenant nodded to the soldiers carrying their stuff.
"Log these personal effects and make sure none of it disappears. This is evidence."
"I'll personally see that it gets put in lock-up, sir."
"You do that."
"Alright," the sergeant said to one of the guards, "put 'em in B13."
"With the She-Bear, Sergeant?" the guard asked.
"She's chained up good and tight," the sergeant replied. "Besides, we're gonna run outta space quick at this rate."
"If things keep going the way they are, you'll be getting a lot of new guests soon," the lieutenant said.
"We're gonna need more men, sir," the sergeant said.
"Seems like the units that get rotated here will be helping out until then get sent back to the front."
"You really got the She-Bear here?" the younger of the two soldiers carrying their stuff—Carlino—asked.
"You better believe it, kid," the guard replied. "And if you lot are gonna be pullin' shifts here, you best spread the word. Chains in here are two meters standard, but that's too much damn slack for the likes of her, so we had to shorten 'em down to one meter. Took ten guys—big guys—to hold her down."
"Damn."
"It was a dozen that got sent in. She smashed one's head like a damn grape and caved in the chest of another before they could get her to the ground."
"Why the hell don't you just shoot her?" the one of the other soldiers asked.
"Zadok wants her alive. Besides, they say her hide's like iron. Bullet won't do nothin'."
"Enough yappin'" the sergeant said. "Carmenetti, go escort our guests to their suite. Ha!"
Toma, Dru and Goldie exchanged uncertain looks. Their situation was bad enough without being put in a cell with some kind of monster. They were led down below to the lower level, where the narrow corridors were dimly lit by a few oil lamps hanging off the walls. The smell was much worse down here, enough to make you want to vomit. Actually, both Dru and Goldie looked like they might do just that, but they were both heroically trying to hold it back.
They were taken down the second corridor to the third cell on the right. The guard drew his truncheon as he warily unlocked the door. Inside the cell they caught their first glimpse of the dreaded She-Bear. Largely hidden in the shadows, all you could make out was a mess of shaggy black hair and filthy rags.
"Alright, girl, left; boys, right," the guard said. "Hands on the wall."
You didn't really want to touch the grimy walls, but you wanted to disobey the guard even less. He clamped shackles on their ankles, Toma and Goldie on their right legs and Dru on her left. Why she got a different leg wasn't clear.
Once he was done shackling them, the guard said, "Turn around."
They did so.
"The rules are simple," the guard said. "Do what we tell you when we tell you, be quiet and behave. Do that and you get two meals a day, a bath every three days, your straw changed once a week, your own slop bucket, and only one shackle on you. Misbehave and we take away the good and add the bad. Look at the She-Bear over there. Collared, muzzled, chained hand and foot, can't lie down, only fed once in four days—if she doesn't bite that day—, and I don't remember the last time she got a bath or had her straw changed. She's been wallowin' in her own shit at least a month and you'll get the same if you act out. We clear?"
They only nodded numbly, prompting the guard to strike the bars with his truncheon.
"When you're spoken to, you say, 'Yes, sir!' Are we clear!?"
"Yes, sir!" they shouted back.
The guard seemed to notice Toma was louder than the others, so he pointed his truncheon at him and said, "You. You got a lot of energy. Too much energy. I'll watchin' you."
With that, the guard exited the cell, locked the door and headed back with the soldiers who had escorted them. Their voice faded into the distance as they walked off.
"That's the She-Bear? She didn't look so tough. Only powerful thing 'bout her is the smell."
"You goddamned idiot. Just try your damn luck 'round her and see what happens. There's still bits of Fellini's brain stuck to the wall 'less the rats got to it."
"Oh, God... I'm gonna be sick..."
"Ha ha ha!"
Once they couldn't hear the Ilyrians' voices anymore, Toma then asked Dru, "Well, now what? We just wait for Zadok to come?"
The mention of the word 'Zadok' caused the She-Bear to stir, growling and straining against her chains. The three of them watched he warily for a moment before Dru answered Toma's question.
"We certainly don't want to be caught by Zadok—"
The She-Bear growled some more.
"—by, by them. But we can't do anything reckless either. If the Dragon Riders are out searching for us, they won't come back here for several days at least. We have some time to get a better understanding of our surroundings and find an opportunity."
"What are you talking about?" Goldie asked.
He was sitting down, curled up in a ball. He was never the most energetic person to begin with, but he sounded completely drained of all life.
"What opportunity? I cannot believe any of this is happening. I did not think it could get any worse... I am going to die here... Is this what you wanted, Father?"
Toma shook his head.
"You two make quite a couple. You always thinkin' everything's gonna work out and him bein' all gloom an' doom."
"And where do you stand, Toma?" Dru asked.
"Somewhere in the middle, I guess. Followin' your lead's kept us alive this long, but I'm pretty sure this is the end of the road. Even if we get outta these chains, we gotta get outta the cell. If we get outta the cell, we still gotta get outta the donjon. If we get outta the donjon, we've gotta get through the first fence, then the second. An' even if we somehow manage to get outta the camp, we're in Ilyria. If we get back into Greland, we're bound to get caught again or killed in some crossfire. An' that's only if all the other steps before that go off without a hitch. I'm no gamblin' man, but you'd have to be a fool to take those odds."
"We have to try, Toma," Dru said. "We take the first step, then the next and the next until we've made it or we die trying, because if we give up now, we're guaranteed to die. You can bet on those odds."
She was right, of course, but they still needed a plan. Before Toma could spend any time trying to think of something, he heard someone outside their cell.
"Those voices... Kid, lil' lady, that you?"
Toma and Dru looked at each other, then she went over to the bars and said, "Mr. Duran? Is that you?"
"I'll be damned," Duran said from the cell across from them. "It is you. What the hell happened?"
"Our carriage was stopped by an Ilyrian patrol and we were taken captive," Dru replied. "What about you?"
"Aw, I was movin' a shipment 'cross the border when I got picked up as the troops were marchin' south. They figger I got more'n I'm lettin' on, so they took me here 'stead a' jus' shootin' me then. Got ta spend a few rounds with the Professor already, that dirty sumbitch."
"The Professor? I heard them mention him before."
"Pray you don't hafta meet him, lil' lady. What's that fancy word they used? 'Interrogation specialist'. Where I come from, we jus' call bastards like him torturers."
"Are you hurt badly?"
"Ah, I'll live," Duran said. "If I can get outta this hole, that is."
"We were just thinking the same thing."
"Yeah, I heard. Be glad the guards don't come 'round here too often or you'd have a few more irons on you."
"You wouldn't happen to have any ideas on how to get out, would you?"
"If I did, you think I'd still be here?" he asked. "Wait." He paused for a moment. "You still got my present ta you, lil' lady?"
Dru looked surprised for a moment, then said, "Why, yes. Yes, I do."
Duran laughed.
"Leave it ta those damn sloppy-ass Eye-lies not ta search you. Alright, I want you ta toss it over. Careful, though. You only got one shot."
"What if I miss?"
"Don't miss."
Uncertainly, Dru reached up under her skirt and drew out a little dagger about ten centimeters or so. Toma figured that was the 'protection' Duran gave her. Thinking of Duran sticking his hands up under Dru's skirt to strap the knife to her thigh only served to get him annoyed at the smuggler again.
Dru held up the knife, leveling her throw but then stopped at the last minute.
"I don't trust myself with something this important," she said. She set the knife on the floor and slid it over to Toma. "You do it, Toma. I trust you more."
Toma wasn't sure he liked the idea of the responsibility being on him, but he wasn't going to chicken out with Dru putting her faith in him. There was three meters at most between the two cells. Coming up short was less of a concern than bouncing the knife off the bars or throwing it so far that Duran couldn't reach it.
"Where are you at?" Toma asked Duran.
"Same side as the lil' lady, kid, first spot from the door."
Toma sighed.
"Here goes nothin'."
He threw the knife and it managed to go right between the bars and, by the sound of it, bounce off the wall.
"Ah, dammit!" Duran exclaimed.
"What happened, Mr. Duran?" Dru asked.
"You could've left the damn knife in its sheath, dammit."
"Did I stick you?" Toma asked.
"Naw, kid, you didn't stick me, but you got damn close. Shit."
"What are you going to do, Mr. Duran?" Dru asked.
"They're gonna be rotatin' in rank an' file troops for guard duty," Duran replied, "jus' like they was sayin'. Dumbasses who don't know what they're doin' 'round prisoners. We wait till evenin' when they come 'round ta feed us. I feed 'em a lil' steel, take the keys an' get us out."
"Even if you can do that, we've still gotta get through the donjon," Toma said. "An' after that, the fences with the towers an' everythin' else."
"That's why we're waitin' till evenin', kid. Security's laxer. We'll be harder ta see. An' far as the donjon goes, there'll only be two or four here 'round feedin' time, then two up front an' maybe one or two we meet in 'tween. No problem."
"You're gonna get us all killed."
"If you got a better plan, kid, I'm all ears."
Toma didn't have a better plan, so he was left saying nothing.
"It is perhaps our best chance," Dru said, trying to win Toma over to the idea.
Toma shook his head.
"If you're willin' ta trust it, I guess I am too."
"Aurelius?"
"I do not know why you bother asking me," Goldie said. "You have already decided and even if you did change your mind, you have given that criminal the means to carry it out anyway."
"Blondie's right, I'm 'fraid," Duran said. "'Nother day with the Professor's about all I can stand. I'm gettin' out an' if you don't want in, I can leave you there."
"No, we're in," Dru said. "Just tell us what to do."
"Jus' be model pris'ners till tomorra evenin'. Once I get you out, you follow me an' do what I say an' we might jus' see our way out."
Seeking their agreement, Dru looked to Toma and Goldie and asked, "Toma? Aurelius?"
"Guess we're trustin' our lives to this guy 'gain," Toma said. "Alright. If this is gonna happen, I'll play by your rules."
Goldie didn't say anything, prompting Dru to say, "Aurelius?"
Annoyed, Goldie told her, "There is nothing I can say or do to change what is going to happen. Must I give you a meaningless vote of confidence?"
Even though Toma had his doubts about this plan working, he didn't like the way Goldie expressed his misgivings.
"Lay off, Goldie," he said. "She's doin' the best she can. Duran came through for us before. Maybe he'll do it 'gain."
"That's one helluva vote a' confidence, kid," Duran replied, "meanin'less or no. Jus' settle in for now, kids. We still got a full day a' this God-forsaken prison life ahead a' us."
Toma could hardly wait.
* * *
It was hard to say what might have happened to them if there weren't orders for them not to be touched. The next day Duran had another appointment with the Professor and when it was over, the guards had to pretty much carry him back to his cell. This didn't fill Toma with a lot of hope for an effective escape plan being launched that evening.
There really wasn't much of anything to do to pass the time. You could try sleeping as much as your back would allow, but the thin layer of straw didn't afford much padding for the stone floor. Talking only worked so far as you had someone to talk to and something to talk about. If a guard came by, they'd bang on the bars and tell you to shut up. Naturally, you weren't afforded any niceties like a deck of cards or something like that. Even if they would give you a book, the light was too dim to read by. Toma couldn't even begin to imagine how someone could put up with this sort of thing for days, weeks, months and years on end without going completely stark raving mad.
Without any view outside, it was impossible to keep track of the time. You could guess assuming the guards observed some sort of schedule. It seemed like they would make the rounds about once an hour, but who knew how strict they were about it? If you were among the well-behaved prisoners afforded two meals a day, you at least knew when morning and evening were. Unless you were being taken to the Professor, meals were the only times the guards would enter the cells, so suppertime was when Duran would launch the escape attempt, if he'd recovered enough for it, that is.
Toma's cell came first. Besides the two guards, there were a couple of trusted prisoners doing the actual work. Toma had taken to calling such prisoners toadies. The toadies would serve the meals, change out the straw and empty the slop buckets. It wasn't all that enviable, but it was better than being chained to the wall all day.
Their meal was a small bowl of gruel and a little brown bread roll that was as hard as a rock. You could probably kill a man with the roll if you used it as a weapon.
Toma and Dru both struggled to conceal their anticipation. Goldie had been sulking all day, so you would never expect something was going to happen looking at him. Apparently it wasn't the She-Bear's day to eat because they skipped over her.
Then it was Duran's turn. What was he going to do? Would he go for it?
One of the guards carried a checklist with him and Toma could hear him talking to Duran.
"Prisoner 2187, says here you've upset the Professor an' I'm not s'pposed to feed you, 'less you're wantin' to talk."
"I got... somethin' ta say..." Duran replied in a low, weak voice.
"An' what's that?"
Whatever Duran said was too indistinct to hear. The guard couldn't understand him either.
"Say again?"
It was still impossible to make out what he said when he repeated himself. Toma could hear the guard get closer to him.
"You're gonna hafta speak up."
This was presumably where Duran would stick the knife in the guard and somehow manage to get the other one and keep the toadies quiet or kill them, all while still being chained to the wall. Now that Toma really thought about it, it didn't seem like a very good plan at all. He must've had something else in mind.
There was the sound of some struggling, then the guard spoke in a language Toma had never heard before. What was more, Duran replied in kind. He sounded surprised at first, then there was some back and forth between them. Toma thought he heard Zadok mentioned a few times and Ostivar, maybe Aurea too.
Confused, the other guard said, "Trimble, what's goin' on? What're you sayin'?"
"Sorry, Fazzio," he first guard said.
There was a muffled cry, followed by one of the toadies screaming, "HELP! HEL—"
His screams were cut off by a sick gurgling sound. Presumably to the other toady, the first guard said, "You're gonna be quiet now, ain't you?"
Wisely, the toady was silent.
There was the click of shackles being unlocked and the sound of chains rattling. The guard said some more things to Duran in the mystery language, then Toma saw him exit the cell with Dru's knife in his hand dripping with blood. Duran appeared shortly thereafter carrying the guard's keyring. As he was opening the cell door, Dru asked him, "Mr. Duran, what's going on?"
"I dunno what god you worship, lil' lady, but he or she must like you an awful lot."
"What do you mean?"
"That guard's an ol' buddy a' mine. Dunno what the hell he's doin' here in Ilyria, but he's gonna help us get out. There are a couple Grelish soldiers infiltratin' his unit an' he'll be sendin' 'em with us. Ain't no explainin' strokes a' luck like this 'cept divine innervention."
"In that case, Holy Mother, praised be thy name."
Duran chuckled.
"Yeah, lil' lady, praised be 'er name. You sure you ain't the Maid 'erself come down b'low?"
"Come now, Mr. Duran, is it really wise to blaspheme at a time like this?"
"Guess not, heh."
He unlocked Dru's shackle first, then Toma's and lastly Goldie's. Toma was of course glad to be rid of the shackle, but Goldie just kept sitting there.
"Come on, Goldie, get up," Toma said. "We're gettin' outta here."
Goldie didn't budge.
"Hey, what's your problem? Get up."
Dru went over to him and knelt down, saying, "Aurelius, what is it? We need to get going."
"You are going to trust your life to a criminal and some madman who just murdered two people, one of them a comrade in arms?"
"I don't know the details, Aurelius, but this is our best chance to escape."
"It could be a trick, a trap."
"Why would the Ilyrians go to all the trouble? All they have to do is wait for Zadok to come."
Then mention of Zadok caused the She-Bear to stir and start growling.
"It could be a mind game," Goldie said. "Torturers use them. They may have orders not to harm us physically, but there are other things they can do. How do we know that criminal is not working for them?"
"Keep waggin' your jaw like that, boy, an' I'm gonna break it," Duran growled.
"Mr. Duran, please. Aurelius is just scared. We need to reassure him."
"We ain't got time for holdin' hands, lil' lady. 'Sides, ain't Blondie's name s'pposed ta be Henri?"
At first Dru looked like she had made critical mistake, but she quickly played it off, saying, "Surely you already knew we were using assumed names at the inn."
Losing his patience, Toma went over to Goldie, seized him by the jacket and lifted him to his feet.
"We don't have time for your shit. Now get up and let's go."
"Unhand me."
Dru tried to intervene.
"Toma, stop. Aurelius, whatever waits for us out there, it pales in comparison to what will happen when Zadok comes. That should be reason enough."
This seemed to win him over, however reluctantly, but now the She-Bear was really getting agitated. She was struggling against her chains and shouting in some foreign language. Dru looked at her, then said to Duran, "Mr. Duran, the keys, please."
"Are you crazy? You know the kinda stories they tell 'bout the She-Bear?"
"Yes, and she has no love of Zadok. That could be helpful for us."
"Even if she doesn't tear your head off the moment those chains come off, we're never gonna sneak outta here with her tear-assin' 'bout. If nothin' else, the smell'll give us away ten k'lometers off."
"The keys, Mr. Duran," Dru insisted, holding out her hand.
"Alright, lil' lady, you're the one blessed by the heavens an' shit."
He handed her the keys, but before she could go over to the She-Bear, Toma caught her by the arm.
"Dru, don't. It's too dangerous."
"It'll be alright, Toma. Trust me. Let go, please."
Against his better judgment, Toma let her go. She carefully approached the She-Bear, then crouched down to meet her eye level. She held up the keyring and spoke to her, apparently in her own language. The She-Bear settled down. Dru first removed the muzzle, then the iron collar and the shackles on her wrists. Now, the collar and the manacles were one piece, like a sort of pillory, connected by heavy iron bars. As Dru struggled with the weight of it, the She-Bear pounced on her, pinning her to the floor.
"Dru!"
"Stay back, Toma!"
Dru started talking to the She-Bear in her language and not only did she get off of her but also picked up the iron bar. Dru got back up and unlocked the chains at the She-Bear's waist and lastly the shackles on her ankles. Once freed, the She-Bear tried standing up, but her legs gave out on her. Dru tried to support her, but she wasn't remotely strong enough to hold up a hulking woman like that.
"Toma, help."
Toma wasn't all that eager to do so, as much because of the risk of the She-Bear ripping his arms off as the smell, but he went over to them all the same. The She-Bear growled at him as he approached, but Dru said something to settle her down. Toma took the left side and Dru the right. She guided them to her place, where she offered the She-Bear her water cup. The She-Bear greedily chugged it, prompting Dru to chide her to drink more slowly, or that was what Toma imagined she was saying. She then offered the She-Bear her bowl gruel. As with the water, she just gulped it down and then started licking the bowl.
"C'mon, we don't got time for this," Duran said impatiently.
"Mr. Duran, they've been starving her."
"All the more reason not ta brin' her along. She's dead weight."
The She-Bear glared at him. She may not have understood exactly what he was saying, but she seemed to figure enough of it out to know he was talking about her.
"Give it up," Toma said. "Once she's got her mind on something, you're not gonna convince her otherwise."
"Yeah, I kinda noticed that," Duran said.
"Toma, did you have any of your food or water left?" Dru asked.
"Sorry," Toma said. "I figured we'd be on the movie, so I wolfed it down."
"Aurelius?"
Goldie just nodded to his cup and bowl. Annoyed at him being uncooperative, Toma went over and took the cup and bowl and delivered them to the She-Bear. He was too busy being annoyed at Goldie to be nervous about her.
"Eat up," he said, offering her the bowl. "We need to get going."
The She-Bear eyed him suspiciously, then snatched the bowl and seemed to down it in one gulp. Dru admonished her again to no effect. Toma held out the cup so she could snatch that too.
While looking out the cell uneasily, Duran glanced back and asked, "We done here? Can we get a move on?"
"Yes, Mr. Duran," Dru said.
"About damn time," Duran said. "Let's go."
"What about the others?" Dru asked.
"What others? The other pris'ners? Look, lil' lady, we can't save ever'one. I ain't that sure we can even save ourselves."
"What about supplies? Provisions?"
"We can worry 'but that if we can get outta camp."
Thankfully, Goldie came along without making any more of a fuss. The five of them made their way down the corridor and waiting for them at the end were two Ilyrians, a big middle-aged man and a more slightly built youth around Toma's age.
Duran spoke to them in Grelish, saying, "You ain't raisin' the alarm or tryin' ta bash our heads in, so you two mus' be the ones Marius was talkin' 'bout?"
"Who's Marius?" the big man asked.
"What's he callin' himself 'round you?"
"Goes by 'Arry Trimble."
"It's always somethin' diff'rent. I go by Duran. You?"
"Mick Weather—er, Elon Schwartz, an' this here's, Molly Wood."
Molly. Wasn't that a girl's name? Wait. The young one was a girl?
"Pullin' a Polly Oliver?" Duran asked.
"That or get raped by ever' damn Eye-lie here," Schwartz said.
"They was still wantin' ta rape me thinkin' I's male," the girl replied.
"Eye-lies ain't too particular," Duran said. "So you comin' with?"
"Where're ye goin'?"
"Ostivar," Dru replied.
Pretty much no one as expecting her answer.
"Ostivar?" Duran asked. "What the hell you wanna go there for?"
"Zadok has already invaded Greland. The only place for us to go is Ostivar."
"You gotta go through Adom first."
"It's okay. Shaya is an Adomite. She'll help us."
"Who's Shaya?"
Dru nodded to the She-Bear. Duran looked surprised.
"It has a name?"
"She's a human being, Mr. Duran," Dru said, "even if the Ilyrians treated her like a beast."
"Okay, whatever," he said. To the two Grelishmen disguised as Ilyrians, he said, "So we're goin' ta Ostivar, it seems. You in?"
"What're ye plannin' on doin' in Ostivar?" Schwartz asked.
"I will treat with Queen Bulah to open up a new front in the war," Dru said. "That will take pressure off Greland and give the Aureans more time to launch a counteroffensive."
"An' how in the hell're ye gonna do that?"
Duran laughed.
"This lil' lady could get the gods ta move the heavens an' the earth if she had a mine ta do it."
"You oversell my negotiating skills, Mr. Duran," Dru said. "I have no guarantee I will even be granted an audience, but it is the best hope we have right now."
He looked to Molly and said, "Whaddye say, Wood? Looks like we might do more good goin' with 'em."
"What 'bout the others?" Molly asked.
"Can't save 'em all," Schwartz said. "Even if we could get 'em outta their pens, the whole garrison'd be on our asses. If it's jus' us, we might get out, an' if this gel's plan works, we could have the Aureans liberatin' this camp in a matter a' weeks. That beats 'em dyin' in a botched 'scape 'ttempt."
"How's one gel gonna get the Queen a' Ostivar te go te war with Zadok?"
Schwartz looked to Dru and asked, "Yeah, how're ye plannin' on doing all that?"
"I would love to explain it to you," Dru said, "be we don't have the time now. We must go. You can't stay here. One of the guards is dead and prisoners have escaped. If you are not found out as Grelishmen, you'll be court-martialed for dereliction of duty. You'll be hanged for one or shot for the other."
"Well, that's all the convincin' I need," Schwartz said. "Wood?"
"Can't be helped."
"Then let's go," Duran said.
They went up the stairs and were greeted by the corpse of another guard. He wasn't alone. There were a couple more along the way and in the vestibule where they were first received, the fat sergeant lay slumped over his desk, All their stuff was gathered in a pile to the side. Dru's knife was sitting there on the desk along with a key and a message written in the sergeant's blood.
B2 SEWER GOOD LUCK
"Why is it written in Elban?" Toma asked.
"Oh, uh, jus' a joke 'tween me an' Marius, kid," Duran said. "I hadn't thought 'bout the sewer. Didn't really want to, ta be hones', but we won't hafta worry 'bout the fences or the guards this way. Let's get our gear an' head back down."
Duran took the knife off the desk, wiped off the blood on the sergeant's tunic and handed it to Dru.
"Lil' thin' came in handy didn't it?"
Dru somewhat reluctantly accepted the knife and looked around self-consciously as she returned it to its sheath. They quickly donned their gear and while they were doing that, Schwartz and Molly were shedding their tunics and caps. Molly untucked her shirt and pulled out a green bonnet and put it on her head.
"Ye kept that thin', Wood?" Schwartz asked.
"Always a Ranger," she replied.
"Sorry ye don't have yer Welner," he said.
She knitted her eyebrows in frustration but said nothing.
"Where're your guns?" Duran asked them as he was strapping on the spring-loaded contraption that allowed him to quick draw his concealed pistols.
"They check yer rifles when ye get here," Schwartz said. "Ye only get 'em if yer on rovin' patrol outside or if yer in the towers. They figger no guns in here means no pris'ners kin get hold of 'em."
"Ranger without a rifle's jus' a guy in a funny hat," Duran said, using the dead sergeant's arm to smear the message left on the desk.
Molly made a move like she was going to make the smuggler answer for that crack, but Schwartz got between them to hold her back.
"Easy there, Wood. Now's not the time fer scrappin'."
"Mr. Duran, apologize to Miss Wood," Dru said.
"What?"
"Apologize to Miss Wood. You insulted her. Apologize."
Duran gave her a confounded look before coming to the conclusion that it was less trouble to do as she said.
"Alright, alright," he said. "Sorry 'bout that. Me an' my big mouth." He extended his hand to her in a gesture of reconciliation. "We square?"
Molly looked at his hand and batted it aside.
"Miss Wood, Mr. Duran has apologized," Dru said. "Please accept it. Our lives depend on our cooperation. We don't need any bad blood between us."
"Ye heard her, Wood," Schwartz said. "Make nice an' let's hear no more a' it."
Duran offered her his hand again and she grudgingly accepted it. With that done, Duran donned his coat and took the key from the desk.
"We ready? Let's head back down."
Toma didn't know how much good his bayonet would do him, but he was glad to have it back. The next time someone wanted to try something with him, they were getting the business end of the bayonet, consequences be damned. He wasn't going to let himself be captured again. There wouldn't be such an easy way out next time, not that they were out yet this time.
They went back to the lower level where they came from. At the other end of the main corridor was another staircase leading down to a second basement level. As they were passing by the blocks of cells, Duran stopped briefly by one cell and told the prisoner inside, "Congratulations, buddy. It's your lucky day," before tossing the guard's keyring inside.
"What'd you do that for?" Toma asked.
"We don't need those keys anymore," Duran replied. "He can use 'em ta try ta escape, even free all the others an' succeed or not, it'll make a good distraction for the garrison. Else he can hand 'em over like a model pris'ner an' might get rewarded for it."
"Doesn't seem to pay bein' a toady," Toma said. "That friend of yours, Marius or whatever, he killed the ones serving chow, didn't he?"
"No, jus' the one that was makin' noise. He couldn't have him callin' the other guards. It had ta be done. He made it quick. I woulda done the same."
Maybe it was just Toma's imagination, but it seemed like Duran was being strangely defensive about it, almost like he was trying to protect this Marius' reputation. Why would he care what Toma thought of him? He had to be overthinking it.
At the bottom of the staircase was a locked door and the key Marius left behind unlocked it. It was pitch black inside, so Duran looked behind him and said, "Someone get me one a' those lamps off the wall. I can't see shit down here."
"On it," Schwartz said, returning with an oil lamp.
"Hand it ta the lil' lady," Duran told him. Then to Dru, he said, "You can be my light, sweetheart."
"Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Duran," Dru said teasingly.
"Flattery'll get me anywhere, darlin'," Duran replied with a grin.
Toma found himself once again feeling particularly annoyed at Duran. It seemed to happen a lot whenever he interacted with Dru.
The second basement level seemed to be the donjon's stores. There were casks of wine stacked up along the wall and a lot of crates, It was a wonder how it all fit through the door.
After a little searching, they found a metal grate on the floor that must have led down to the sewers. There was a lock on the grate and when Duran tried using the key, it wouldn't fit.
"Dammit," he grumbled. "Alright, ever'one, split up an' look for a prybar, a length a' pipe, anythin' I can use for lev'rage ta pop this lock."
Given how dark it was with only one lamp among them, searching the place would be easier said than done. Also, what were the chances of finding anything so convenient just lying about?
As they started looking around, Schwartz went over to the wine casks and held his head under the tap, but not nothing for it.
"Damn. All tapped out."
"Let's try ta focus here, big guy," Duran said. "We get out, firs' round's on me."
"I kin drink te that."
Rather than do any searching herself, the She-Bear—Shaya, she was apparently called—walked over to the grate, crouched down and took hold of it.
As she was grunting and straining, Duran told Dru, "Make her stop. She's never gonna—"
With a forceful jerk, Shaya actually managed to tear the grate loose.
All Duran could say was "Damn..."
Shaya tossed the grate aside while Duran called everyone back. If the rest of the donjon didn't already smell so foul (to say nothing of Shaya), the stench wafting up from the sewer would warrant mention.
"Guess we gotta go in," Duran said. He looked at Dru and told her, "Leave the lamp, lil' lady. You don't want an open flame in a place like that."
"How're we gonna see where we're goin'?" Toma asked.
"It ain't a maze, kid. It'll go straight out. Now who's firs'?"
Everyone looked at Duran.
"Fine."
Duran lowered himself down the hole, cursing as he misjudged the distance to the bottom. He then called back up, saying, "I got good news an' bad news."
"What's the good news?" Dru asked.
"Looks like the outlet's only 'bout three hunnerd meters off."
"And the bad news?" Toma asked.
"Well, this pipe ain't all that big. We're gonna hafta crawl on hands an' knees."
Toma could already feel his stomach churning at the prospect.
"This drop's a bit worse than I was expectin'. Lil' lady, you come down next an' I'll catch you. Kid, help her down."
"Excuse me?" Toma said.
"Come on, Toma," Dru said. "Give me a hand, please."
Dru started crawling down the hole and Toma took her hands before she went past shoulder level and lowered her down as far as his arms could stretch.
"I got her, kid," Duran said. "You can let go now."
No sooner had Toma let her go than he said, "I'm next"
"There's only standin' room for two down here, kid," Duran said, "so we're gonna start goin' on ahead. I'm sure you can get down by yourself."
"Toma," Dru said, "help Aurelius."
Toma looked to Goldie and said, "Guess you're after me."
Dru the said something in Shaya's language and after the Adomite responded with some very curt answer, she then said, "Shaya has agreed to go last, so, Mr. Schwartz, Miss Wood, please go after Aurelius."
"Alright," Schwartz said.
"It's gonna be a tight fit for you, big guy," Duran said.
"Aw, I been in tighter holes. Ha!"
Molly gave him a dirty look for that.
Toma let himself down. He thought he could climb down more gradually using his feet, but the walls were too slick for that. The drop was about a meter further from where his feet were dangling when his arms were fully extended. He splashed down in ankle-deep water, or at least what he wanted to believe was mostly water but knew better.
"Alright, Goldie," he said, "your turn. Come on down."
Schwartz lowered Goldie down and once Toma got hold of his legs, he said, "Okay. Let go."
Goldie's full weight proved to be a little more than what Toma was expecting, so he had to struggle to keep his balance, not that there was any room to fall down. Toma set Goldie down on his feet. Personally, he didn't enjoy being so close.
Goldie was looking down at his feet when Toma told him, "Go on ahead. I'm right behind you."
He cringed at the thought of getting down on his hands and knees.
"Get goin', you big baby. Go on."
When he was taking too long to get down, Toma gave him some help. He was sure Goldie appreciated it.
"Go on. Get movin'."
Admittedly, when it was time for him to get down on his hands and knees too, Toma felt no small reluctance himself. He'd cleaned stables and done other filthy jobs like that. You just have to suppress your natural revulsion and dive right in. Not literally, of course. You can't exactly dive into ankle-deep water, after all.
Once he was down and starting on his way, he called back to the others, "We're clear! Come on down!"
The pipe was cramped and both the sludgy consistency of the water and the overwhelming stench made you want to gag. Toma wanted to hold his breath, but there was no way he could make it the whole way and it'd be so much worse if he was gasping for air while he was still in the pipe. He'd probably pass out from the nausea. The best thing he could do was breathe as shallowly as possible.
Normally three hundred meters would not seem like so great a distance, but when crawling in filth in the dark, it may as well have been kilometers on end. There was just enough light coming in from the end of the pipe that Toma could make out the vague shapes of what was in front of him. As he got closer to the end, the line stopped because Duran was busy trying to kick out the grate on the end of the pipe. Either he went in backwards from the start or he inexplicably managed to get himself turned around, which really didn't seem physically possible.
"C'mon... dammit... I... ain't... dyin'... in... this... shithole!"
Each word was punctuated with a kick and he finally made this animalistic shout on the kick that successfully dislodged the grate. It took a few more kicks to completely knock it loose. Duran then exited the pipe and splashed down below. Before Dru could exit, he called back to her, "Hol' up, lil' lady. This pool's pretty deep. Can you swim?"
"No, I can't," Dru replied.
"Alright. No worries. I'll get you to shore. See who else can't swim."
"Aurelius?"
Goldie didn't respond, at least not verbally, so Dru then asked, "Toma, can you swim?"
"Not really," Toma said.
She then said in Grelish, "Mr. Schwartz, Miss Wood, the sewer drains into a rather deep pool. Mr. Duran can help you across if you can't swim. Can either of you swim?"
"Swimmin's fer the navy," Schwartz replied.
"I thought Greland didn't have a navy."
"Exactly."
Dru then spoke in Adomite to Shaya, whose reply was little more than a grunt.
"It seems that none of us can swim, Mr. Duran," Dru said.
Toma was pretty sure he heard a grumbled "dammit" before Duran said, "Alright. One at a time, startin' with you, lil' lady."
And so they went one at a time jumping out of the pipe into the pool below. When it was Toma's turn, he was sure to keep his mouth shut tight, but that didn't stop water from going up his nose. Although he couldn't really swim, he at least didn't feel the need to flail about in the water, which made Duran's job easier when he took hold of him and pulled him over to the edge of the pool. Now, Toma had been dirty plenty of times in the past. He was a boy, after all, but never in his life did he ever feel so completely soaked in filth. Whatever fate Zadok had planned for him almost seemed preferable in that moment.
His efforts to hold back any longer failed and he vomited up everything that was in his stomach, along with several minutes of dry heaving that accomplished nothing. When he was done throwing up, Toma looked to Dru, who was putting on a brave face despite looking positively miserable, and then to Goldie, who just looked miserable. They waited while Duran brought over Schwartz, Molly and Shaya. Shaya didn't take to the water too well and nearly drowned the both of them. There was much cursing, but Duran eventually got her over.
Once they were all out of the pool, Duran looked at their thoroughly befouled party, then glanced at Shaya and said, "Well, now we all smell like shit. Dammit. I liked this coat. Prolly hafta burn it now."
"I don't think there's enough soap in the world," Dru said.
"I would rather be dead," Goldie moaned.
"Aw, there's no goin' back from bein' dead, Blondie," Duran said. "This shit'll wash off."
"Speaking of which, this pool has to run off somewhere," Dru said, "to a creek or river, I would think."
"Well, let's start with that," Duran said. "Let's go."
Indeed, the overflow from the pool was channeled into a nearby creek. The water was only about knee-deep, but it had to be cleaner than the sewer. Upstream of the runoff, of course. Toma didn't want to think of other sewers that may have drained into the creek. He held himself under and rubbed all over quite vigorously to get out as much of the grime as he could. He may not have come out smelling like a rose, but at least he was not nearly as rank and it didn't feel like the filth was sticking to every sench of his body.
He was so eager to get cleaned off that he didn't really notice it at first, but once he was out of the creek, a gust of wind reminded him that this wasn't exactly the warmest of nights. Once again, Dru was trying to put up a strong front even as she was shaking like a leaf.
"W-we n-need t-t-to get-t d-dry," she said through chattering teeth.
"We need ta put more distance 'tween us an' them firs', lil' lady," Duran said. "You're just gonna hafta tough it out."
Dru nodded.
"You're right, Mr. Duran," she said, working hard to stifle the chattering of her teeth. "We have no way of knowing when the Ilyrians will start looking for us."
"We got a few hours till the shif' change an' it'll prolly take 'em 'nother hour ta organize a search party. I'd say we got till dawn at best."
"A fire would not be so easy to spot by daylight anyway," Dru said, though she clearly looked like she would've liked that fire right that instant.
"Why can we not just go to the next town?" Goldie asked.
"Firs' off, di Malo ain't like other posts," Duran said. "There ain't a civilian pop'lation nearby supportin' it. Also, a raggedy bunch a' for'ners like us'll stick out. We need ta get two or three days 'tween us an' here 'fore we even think 'bout 'pproachin' civ'lization."
"And it's not like we have any money anyway," Toma added.
"Actually, Marius took care a' that for us," Duran said, pulling a coin purse out of his coat pocket. "Courtesy a' those brave Eye-lie guards what gave their lives in the line a' duty."
"It is a poor thing to rob the dead," Dru said.
"You want me ta' give it back, lil' lady?"
"Under the circumstances, I can't afford to. Come on, everyone, we should feel the chill less if we're moving."
"Took the words right outta my mouth."
They travelled through most of the night, Toma had hoped his clothes would dry after an hour or two of walking, but they only went from sopping wet to thoroughly damp, not much of an improvement. The area was mostly open country, rolling hills with few trees and little sign of habitation besides the occasional farmstead and one or two distant flocks of either sheep or goats.
They stayed off the roads but kept close enough to keep them in view. Just as it was getting close to the dawn, they were able to find the ruins of a burned-out farmstead. Enough of the house was still standing to provide some shelter. It wouldn't do them much good if it started to rain, but the sky seemed mostly clear.
"Alright," Duran said after looking over the place. "This'll do. Let's get some rest, warm up, try ta dry out these wet thin's."
"How're we gonna do that?" Toma asked. "There aren't exactly any trees for firewood around here."
"Whatever wood wadn't burned before can burn now. We can't make that big of a fire, but I think y'all can agree somethin's better'n nothin'. Boys, let's get ta gatherin' wood. Ranger girl, check the well an' see if it ain't dry and if the water's drinkable. Lil' lady, see if you can get the She-Bear ta build us a fire pit in the house."
"Who made you leader?" Goldie asked critically.
Duran spread his arms out theatrically and said, "Anyone else here wanna take charge? Be my guest. How 'bout it, Blondie?"
Dru put a hand on Goldie's shoulder, saying, "Aurelius, Mr. Duran knows what he's doing. He is perhaps the best of us when it comes to surviving."
"Why're we jaw-jackin' when I could be warmin' my ass by a fire?" Schwartz asked. "Let's get to it."
It seemed that no one else was willing to join Goldie in opposing Duran effectively claiming leadership of their group, so they went about their assigned tasks. The men next to work dismantling the remnants of a shed, prying the boards loose and breaking them down. The wood was old and dry and the parts that hadn't been burned were leached of most of their color. Each of the four of them carried in an armload, which Duran figured would be enough for as long as they were staying. The house had a dirt floor and Shaya had dug a shallow pit in the middle, with her bare hands judging from the dirt caked to her fingers.
As Duran was getting the fire pit ready, Molly returned, so he asked her, "How's the well?"
She shook her head.
"Damn. Well, we'll jus' hafta try harder ta get water once we head out. Might hafta risk gettin' close ta one a' the farms that's still 'habited."
With a little work, he got the fire started and when he did, he said, "Alright, folks, we got three jobs: watchin' the fire, keepin' lookout, an' restin'." He paused. "Oh, an' take off your clothes."
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Duran," Dru said, as if she didn't believe what he just said.
"You stay in those wet things, you're gonna get pneumonia an' shit," he explained. "I ain't askin' ever'one ta get naked, this bein' mixed comp'ny an' all, but your clothes'll dry out faster if you hang 'em up, not that there's much to hang stuff from in this wreck."
Accepting Duran's explanation, Dru then translated for Shaya, who without any hesitation or embarrassment stripped out of her prison rags.
"Or you can jus' do that," Duran said blithely as he was taking off his coat.
Toma didn't know who blushed harder: Goldie, Dru or himself. Other than an accidental glance once or twice, he didn't think he'd ever seen a naked woman before. Definitely not like this, just out there in the open. Toma was polite enough to look away, but not before he got a decent view. Shaya wasn't the sort of woman you'd normally see, thick-muscled and covered in old scars that really stood out on her tawny skin.
Toma, Goldie, Schwartz and Molly all undressed down to their shirts, which left them well enough covered, though Goldie was self-consciously pulling down his shirttail. Dru was down to her chemise and pantalettes, which honestly didn't leave her much less covered than usual, though her arms were exposed and Toma could catch just a glimpse of her shapely calves.
Duran, however, was second only to Shaya, wearing nothing more than a breechcloth. Dru blushed anew, but only briefly as her attention was drawn to the extensive bruising from the Professor's work.
"Oh, Mr. Duran..."
"What, this? Don't worry 'bout it, lil' lady. I've had worse. Now, lissen, ever'one. Stay close ta the fire an' close ta each other. We gotta keep each other warm. We're all 'bout ta get a whole lot better 'cquainted."
Duran grinned as awkward glances were exchanged, but again showing no hesitation, Shaya embraced Dru from behind and pulled her in close. Dru started blushing again, but who could blame her?
"Well, I guess the She-Bear's found herself a new cub," Duran said. "The rest a' y'all hafta figger out arrangements." He then said to Schwartz, "Big guy, think you can hannle firs' watch outside?"
"Sure," Schwartz replied.
Despite his earlier eagerness to warm himself by the fire, he put his trousers and boots back on without a word of complaint and headed out the door, or at least where the door would've been if it were still standing.
Duran continued, "I'll take second watch. Kid, you take third an', Ranger girl, you take fourth. Hour before your watch, you need ta be mindin' the fire. We clear."
"Yeah," Toma said.
"Yessah," Molly replied.
"Hey, none a' that 'sir' business," Duran said. "I work for a livin'."
"How'll we know when it's time to switch watches?" Toma asked.
"Leave that ta me, kid."
"We oughter pair up," Molly said to Toma, "seein' as I'm after ye."
Toma hadn't really paid much attention to Molly before now. She was a little on the plain side but still a girl about his age and the thought of the two of them snuggling by the fire with only a couple layers of cloth between them was a little embarrassing. For some reason, he looked to Dru as if he was seeking her advice or approval or something. She looked a little annoyed. Why was that?
"No funny business," Molly said. "I'll take the back. I don't want ye tryin' te slip it te me while I'm sleepin'."
Flustered, Toma stammered, "Wh-what the hell're you talkin' 'bout!?"
"Men're men," she said bluntly. "Now shut up, lie down an' go te sleep. Ye'll be up afore ye know it."
Not that he fancied the idea of snuggling with Goldie, Toma glanced over at him.
"I will trust the fire to keep me warm, thank you very much," he said.
Well, that settled that.
Toma lied down by the fire, close enough to get its warmth but not so close he had to worry about any jumping embers if the wood popped. Molly got behind him, close enough that he could feel her but not pressed up tight like you would expect from someone seeking warmth. It seemed she was crossing her arms in front of her so her breasts wouldn't squish into his back. Not that she had much there anyway, much unlike the unexpectedly well-endowed Shaya. Then again, Shaya may have been closer to average and just seemed big compared to the much more slightly built Dru and Molly. He really needed to stop thinking about it or he was never going to get to sleep.
If he managed to fall asleep, it was over before he knew it. He felt Duran lightly shake his shoulder and say, "You're up, kid. Watch the fire."
The dirt floor of the farmhouse was arguably less comfortable than the stone floor of the donjon because at least there they had straw. But here there was a fire, so give and take. The point was that he didn't know whether to be thankful or grudging for having to get up.
When Duran went out the door to relieve Schwartz, Toma could overhear them talking.
"Alright, big guy, I got it from here. Get some shuteye."
"Ain't ye gonna ask me if I's seen nothin'?"
"If you'd seen anythin' worth mentionin', you woulda tole us 'bout it already."
"True 'nough. Say, what was yer line a' work again?"
"Smuggler."
"An' afore that?"
"Jus' a ne'er-do-well, though most folks'd say smugglin's ne'er doin' well too."
"I think there's more te it than that. Way ye hannled yerself back there shows ye've got trainin', experience."
"Aw, smugglin' gets messy."
"Not so messy as yer friend's handiwork, I don't think."
"No foolin' you, eh? Well, I don't talk 'bout it much, but back durin' the war, me an' my frien's fought Zadok as partisans. We were jus' kids, but they didn't care if you was young or old. We got 'em back as bes' we could. Lots a' kids I grew up with bought it in all kinds a' nasty ways. Only there at the end did the Aureans start organizin' us as a militia an' expect us ta act half like soldiers. Wasn't much even left ta fight by then, though."
"I was born an' raised down south," Schwartz said, "so Zadok never got that far. Time I was ole 'nough te enlist, war was over. Thirty damn years an' I ain't done any real fightin' till th'other day. What a damn sight that was..."
"Well, it takes some grit ta come outta a sea a' corpses an' not go completely outta your gourd."
"What's the story with them kids?"
"Ah, I jus' helped 'em 'cross the border few days back. Funny we all end up in di Malo together."
"Yeah, funny. Who're they really, though? The gel talkin' 'bout talkin' the Ostees inta goin' ta war an' callin' Blondie Aurelius, which ain't no common name."
"Who can say?"
"Ye could, I reckon. Ye know more'n yer lettin' on. Only that one boy, the Elbee, Toma or whatever, don't seem like he's hidin' nothin', but how'd he get mixed up in all this?"
"Try askin' him."
"Aw, I been nosin' too much as 'tis."
"Get some res', big guy. We got a lotta walkin' 'head a' us."
"Yeah, yeah, sure thin', Cap'n."
Schwartz then came inside and Toma pretended he hadn't been eavesdropping. Once he'd taken off his boots and hung up his trousers, Schwartz sat own by the fire to warm himself. They didn't say anything to each other, but when Schwartz reclined on his side, he said, "Keep a close eye on that fire, kid. Enjoy it while ye can. It's a mite nippy out."
Toma nodded. Schwartz glanced over at Dru, who was still wrapped in Shaya's brawny arms. The two of them had fallen asleep sitting up. They way Shaya had been chained up for so long, lying down to sleep probably didn't feel natural to her anymore. Dru was no doubt too tired for it to bother her, not that she was likely to get free of that bear hug even if she wanted to.
"Damn, some folks got all the luck," Schwartz said. "Well, nighty-night, kid."
Toma continued to watch the fire and wondered about Schwartz's conversation with Duran. There was more to the smuggler than what he appeared to be. What would that mean for them and their journey?