Flight of the Fallen

15 Escape

The first storm of autumn came early that year in a chilly, blustery wall of clouds that moved in from the southwest and blew over the city. That night the fleet of Tarmak ships arrived. In the lashing rain and pounding waves, the ships staggered into the harbor and signaled for help. Every available Tarmak was pulled out of the city and sent to the harbor to help the warriors disembark, to unload the shipment of Damjatt horses, and to batten down the ships. They made no attempt to unload the supplies and stacks of weapons that lay within the holds. Those could wait until the sea calmed. But the horses were exhausted, and the warriors were seasick and thoroughly tired of the cramped conditions on the ships. Tarmaks and horses alike wanted off, and the Akkad-Ur wanted them to have time to recover before they marched north. Unfortunately, the docks and the harbor facilities were only primitive makeshift structures set up after the huge storm in the early summer had destroyed the entire waterfront. Only one ship at a time could be brought to the one long pier, and it had to be carefully roped at the bow and stern to prevent the ship from being smashed to splinters in the heavy surf. The difficult process of unloading the Tarmaks and their horses from each ship took most of the night.

The storm also caused some minor damage and flooding in the town. The wind ripped off some roofs and blew down a few trees. The rain flooded cellars, dripped through old ceilings and ran gurgling through the streets. But it filled rain barrels in town and filled the stock ponds and dry creeks for miles around the city. The storm also offered one service to the beleaguered militia they had not looked for. It offered them excellent cover when they raided the slave pens just outside the dragon’s palace.

Using a few tricks they learned from the Tarmaks, a small group of Legionnaires led by Falaius eased through the driving rain to the rear of one of the high makeshift fences that formed the complex of pens and waited for the guards to make their rounds.

They killed three without a sound and moved the bodies out of sight in the ruins. While the Legionnaires protected their flanks, a party of militia went to work on the stockade fence. The fence was crafted of pointed upright poles woven together with strips of green wood tied with stout rope. It was strong enough to hold unarmed people within, flexible enough to prevent a centaur from kicking it over, and high enough to keep the centaurs from jumping over. But it was not impervious to determined soldiers with stout knives and axes. They reduced a section of the wall to collapsed strips of wood and bits of rope in short order.

Mariana and Sir Hugh slipped into the compound. In the dark and rain they went from one huddled group to another and sent them moving silently toward the hole in the fence. The pen they had penetrated held mostly the centaurs from Linsha’s captured party, soldiers captured in the field, and a few craftspeople from the city. Every one snatched at the opportunity to escape and followed Mariana’s orders without question.

Every one except Leonidas. The young buckskin ambled casually to the back of the pen and ducked quietly through the hole as everyone else did, but the moment he was out he grabbed Sir Hugh’s arm.

“Where are the Knights?” he hissed. “We must get Lady Linsha out, too.”

Sir Hugh shushed him. “Come with me,” he murmured over the wind. “You can help.”

He led the stallion out into the darkness to another small group of militia that waited patiently in the storm. At Sir Hugh’s nod, they fell in behind him and worked their way through the ruins to the back of the storehouse that served as the Knights’ prison. Using hand signals, the Knight sent two men to watch for Tarmak guards and the rest began to hack at the base of the wall with trowels and small shovels.

For a moment Leonidas thought they had lost their minds. The storehouse was built of stone and had survived almost intact for five hundred years. They could not dig underneath this building in anything less than days, and then what would be the point? The Tarmaks would find them long before they made a hole large enough for a human to slip through. Yet as he watched, he began to see some sense in their labor. The old walls were not solid stone. Behind a facade of crumbling sandstone was a thick layer of ancient mud bricks that had gradually deteriorated over the centuries. It easily gave way to the determined efforts of the men with the tools.

Taking turns, the men hacked and chopped until they had made a small hole through the wall. Voices from within called out to them but quickly hushed when Sir Hugh warned them to be quiet.

One of the sentries hurried back to the wall. “Sir Hugh, there are three Tarmaks walking through the yard. They are coming to this end of the building.”

Leonidas and the militia melted back into the darkness. Shielding their eyes from the downpour, they watched as the Tarmaks climbed over the ruins of the courtyard wall and walked around the corner of the prison. The warriors stopped and waited, obviously listening and looking out into the rain. Nothing must have excited their attention, for they conversed a moment then went back to the yard and disappeared into the shadows of the palace.

The militiamen went back to work prying and chopping the bricks loose to form a larger hole. They could hear the Knights within working on their side of the wall with their fingers.

“Sir Hugh,” a stern voice called through the hole. “Is that you? Did you survive?”

“Sir Remmik, yes, I am here.” Hugh said as loudly as he dared. “Let me speak to Lady Linsha.”

There was a cold silence on the other side, then Linsha’s voice answered him softly.

“If we get you out, will the Tarmak general kill Crucible?” he asked.

She pulled a brick out of the way, and he saw the pale blur of her face in the blackness of the gap. “I don’t think so,” she replied. “Varia brought me the news of his plans to take the Plains of Dust. I think he wants the dragon more than he wants me.”

“I don’t agree,” Lanther said from behind her. “He knows how much the dragon cares for you. If you are gone—or worse if you are killed—there will be no holding that dragon. The general will be forced to kill him.”

Sir Hugh was about to reply when shouts rang out from the slave pens nearby. A horn sounded a warning. The Knight swore under his breath. “Leonidas, here!” He pointed to the wall. “Finish it.”

Men scrambled out of the way as the buckskin stallion turned his rump to the wall. His powerful haunches rose and his hooves delivered a resounding kick to the edges of the hole. Sandstone crumbled and bricks flew under the force of his blow. He gathered his legs under him again and slammed another kick into the wall.

More shouting came from the slave pens, and torches appeared in the darkness. Screams followed the shouts as the Tarmaks charged to destroy the raiders. Sir Hugh did not wait any longer. Pushing Leonidas’s rump aside, he reached in through the hole in the wall, shoving bricks and pieces of mortar aside. The prisoners helped from their side until a hole perhaps a foot and a half wide had been made. He reached through, grabbed the first arm he felt, and hauled the person out of the storehouse.

Linsha fell flopping in the mud at his feet and grinned at him. “Ouch,” she said.

“Leonidas, get her out of here!” Sir Hugh shouted. He reached in again to help the next Knight.

Linsha climbed to her feet and helped Sir Hugh pulled a Knight from the gap. “Lanther! Come on, get out now!” she cried into the prison.

But he ignored her and pushed one of the Legionnaires through. Another Knight followed.

The sounds of shouting orders and clash of weapons could be heard even over the rain. “Please, Lanther! They’ll be here any moment!”

She felt a muddy hand grasp her wrist, and Lanther’s face peered through the hole. “I can’t. They’re here already. Don’t go, Linsha! It’s too dangerous! Let the others go, but if you are killed, they will destroy Crucible. Remember what the general said! ‘Don’t do anything to jeopardize his well-being.’ ”

Her eyes wide, she stared at him, her heart torn by his words.

“Please!” he exclaimed. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Something sliced past her and buried itself in the wall by her shoulder. Another arrow struck the first freed Knight, sending him spinning to the ground. The fletched end of an arrow quivered in his chest. From somewhere inside the prison she heard the loud commands of a Tarmak guard.

“That’s it!” Sir Hugh shouted. He wrenched her out. “Leonidas, take her now! The rest of you, get out!”

Linsha hesitated. What if Lanther was right? What if her escape angered the Akkad-Ur so much he killed the bronze? Would he do that? Would Crucible understand why she left and be patient? Gods, what a muddle! And what did Lanther mean in his last plea?

She wasn’t given more time to think. More arrows rained down around them, and she could see warriors running around the building to cut them off.

The militia and the two freed prisoners bolted into the darkness, Sir Hugh close on their heels. She felt the centaur’s two strong hands on her waist swing her around and throw her up in the air. She landed with a thump on Leonidas’s back and scrambled to find her balance just before he wheeled and sprinted into the driving rain.

The night and storm swallowed them, and the old ruins vanished behind.