TEN

IN DUNGEONS DIRE

Alecsis wished he could sleep and banish reality even for a little while.

Reality was a damp, filthy cage, not large enough to stand or even lie down. All he could do was crouch on the hard stone floor with his back against the bars. Designed for maximum discomfort, Alecsis found it even more so due to his extra height and festering war-wound.

Reality was the prospect of death in the morning, something he had considerable difficulty keeping from his mind. He didn’t want to spend his final hours in this miserable place, his ears bombarded by the drunken gambling of his gaolers. They hadn’t bothered Alecsis for some time. They hadn’t given him anything to eat or drink either, and his throat felt as parched as a sun-drenched desert.

A burst of raucous laughter from the adjoining chamber made him flinch, once again drawing his attention to the wound that refused to heal. Alecsis was certain infection had set in. A seeping dampness that reeked of illness had permeated his clothes. He felt grimy, miserable, and decidedly unwell. If he didn’t get some of Lorenso’s extra strong healing magic soon, he might as well accept his impending death.

In an attempt to banish his maudlin thoughts, he peered into the darkness at the flickering candles lighting the Dungeon Master’s card table, where he and his cronies made bets and guzzled ale. If only Alecsis had a notion of the time. It had been mid afternoon when he was stripped of his weapon and magic items, and dragged down the endless flights of stairs to be unceremoniously shoved into this iron cage. Down here one would never know what transpired in the world above.

Alecsis sighed, and made a vain attempt to get into a more comfortable position. There wasn’t one. The floor hurt his rear and the bars dug into his back.

He almost wished Krystos had killed him. Dying in combat was the hero’s way to die. Having the entire town witness his beheading would be humiliating and frightening. Alecsis couldn’t deny his fear. He didn’t want to die like this, not without finding out what had really happened to the evil pirate’s head.

His mind drifted to Karina. She hadn’t left his thoughts since his arrival in the dungeon. But thinking of her hurt more than his wound, more than the fear of death. If only they would let him see her one last time, allow him kiss her tender lips, and beg her not to grieve for him. She would suffer terribly once he was gone... Unless King Rostan had succeeded in poisoning her against him as well. Perhaps, like her brothers, she now anticipated his beheading, fully believing him to have murdered her uncle.

Alecsis would never feel Karina’s naked skin against his, never experience the pleasure of their joining. There would be no wedding night now, no reward for his bravery.

Could the entire mission have been a farce to entrap him? As he had never met Prince Dorbon, how was he to know King Rostan spoke the truth? Alecsis supposed he would never know who had betrayed him. It could have been any number of people. Boran. Toran. The king himself.

Suddenly an eerie silence fell over the dungeon. The raucous laughter stopped so abruptly, Alecsis’s breath caught in his throat. What are they up to now? he wondered, fearing their promised torture routine. Nothing moved, not even the rats he had felt scurrying around him earlier.

Alecsis strained to see into the darkness, searching for his gaolers’ presence. Then he saw the shadowy outline of someone looming directly in front of his cage. The young ex-knight held his breath, bracing himself for a painful onslaught. In his already weakened state, they would have no trouble making him suffer.

“Alecsis,” the figure whispered. “I have come to set you free.”

“Lorenso!” he gasped, hope filling his heart. Someone still cared for him after all.

“Yes, ‘tis I. We must move quickly.”

Alecsis realized the silence was due to some spell Lorenso had cast over the dungeon master and his cronies. Yet he couldn’t help asking about them. “The men?”

“Under a spell that renders them immobile,” Lorenso chortled. “Rather amusing to watch, but it won’t last long.” He raised his hands and started an incantation. He chanted the words so quickly, most were lost to Alecsis.

They had the desired effect. The moment he spoke the release word the mana flowed from him, resulting in a loud clunk, and Lorenso slid across the latch on Alecsis’s cage door. As it swung outwards, the young man breathed a deep sigh of relief.

However, the moment he moved towards freedom, he realized how painful his escape would be. Gritting his teeth, he crawled from the enclosed space. Grasping hold of the bars, he scrambled to his feet.

As he stood, he saw another figure in the gloom behind the magician. It stepped forward and flung slender arms around Alecsis. Despite the throbbing pain, he returned the youth’s enthusiastic hug. As he released him, Antano snorted in disgust. “ Phew! You stink.”

“Ye would too, had you spent the night in the company of rats, and a floor covered in centuries of filth. How late be it?” Alecsis asked in a whisper.

Antano laughed. “Not much past midnight. Sorry I insulted you, Sir. We’ll probably all smell like sewer rats after our swim through the moat.”

“Come, we must away,” Lorenso urged from further down the corridor, and the younger men were quick to follow. They passed several doorways Alecsis knew contained rooms full of vile torture apparatus. Like most people, he had heard the rumours, but until tonight never believed such devices actually existed. Now he knew better. Noron’s loving description of what he planned to do to Alecsis had given him enough information to hurry past those darkened doorways.

The air smelled no better once they entered the dungeon master’s arena. Now mingled with alcohol, it made Alecsis gag. His stomach spasmed, and he almost passed out from the excruciating agony of his wound. Gulping the bile down, he managed to force the pain to a bearable level. Now wasn’t the time to succumb to the weakness of his body.

Lorenso had been right about the immobilization spell. Noron and his cronies did look rather amusing frozen in the positions they had last assumed. Noron sat with a tankard of ale poised at his lips, the flickering candlelight drawing out the ugliness of his pock-marked face. His expression was one of pure longing. He couldn’t wait to get the brew into him.

Antano prodded Alecsis’s forearm. “Watch this.” Stepping up to the immobile dungeon master, he removed the mug from his grasp. The big man’s fingers uncoiled and reformed as though they were made of rubber, now holding nothing but air. Antano picked up the fat candle from the holder standing on the corner of the card table. He placed this in Noron’s hand instead, its flame far enough from his bulbous nose not to singe, but close enough to burn him when he tried to swig his non-existent ale.

Alecsis glanced at Lorenso. He merely shrugged, a slight smile playing about his lips. “He’s not getting anything he doesn’t deserve.”

Antano then proceeded to rearrange one of the cronies playing cards, taking several aces from the dungeon master’s hand lying face down on the table.

“I almost wish we could stay to witness the result of Tano’s mischief,” Lorenso remarked with a chuckle. “But we have a lot of ground to cover.” He started across the floor, his long black cloak billowing behind him. As Alecsis followed, he noticed Antano had donned a similar one.

In single file the three men headed up the stairs. Trained in deadly silence, Alecsis and Antano placed one booted foot in front of the other with careful precision. Lorenso aided his own escape with magic, gliding inches above the floor.

The magician stopped outside his chambers. “Time to collect some essentials,” he said, stepping inside. Alecsis and Antano followed. “Latch the door behind you. We shan’t be leaving that way.”

Antano obliged, flashing Alecsis a reassuring smile. “If you don’t mind me saying, you look rather unwell, Sir.”

Alecsis grimaced. “I feel rather unwell, but we won’t speak of it now. And another thing. You might as well dispense with the title for now. Until I can win back my knighthood, I’m just Alecsis.”

The youth looked uncertain. “You know I will always respect and honour you.”

“I know. But from now on call me by name.”

“Aye, Alecsis,” Antano grinned.

“What’s keeping you two? Hurry. Hurry!” Lorenso urged, and the two men walked the length of the magician’s work benches. They found him standing in front of an open doorway leading to a small antechamber.

‘Put this on,” he urged Alecsis, handing him a cape the same as the ones he and Antano wore. “And cover your head. Yer hair has a habit of shining in the moonlight.”

Alecsis did as he was told, watching Lorenso withdraw three backpacks, passing two of them to Alecsis and Antano. They slung them over their shoulders. Then he extended a sword still in its scabbard.

“Is that what I think it is?” Alecsis gasped, recognizing the gleaming gold hilt studded with precious stones.

“The Holy Avenger. Aye.”

“I was certain the king would have placed it under lock and key the moment he took it from me!”

“Nay, I persuaded him to entrust it into my care. Clever of me, don’t ye think?”

Alecsis managed a weak smile.

“That’s the spirit,” Lorenso grinned back. “Tis good to see you smile. And now I entrust it into your care.” He handed the sword to Alecsis, but he knew he couldn’t secure it around his waist.

“Ye’d better carry it for now... I... I hope one of these packs contains a healing potion, for I am sure to need it,” he explained.

“You had your healing herbs. I administered them myself,” Antano said. “Why be ye still in pain?”

Alecsis grimaced. “I do not know why the wound won’t heal. Perhaps it has something to do with Darkfire’s evil. Mayhap ‘tis eating into me.”

Antano gasped, a slender hand flying to his mouth.

Lorenso turned away, marched over to one of his numerous benches, and rummaged through the rubble of objects.

“This might do the trick.” He held up a small satchel. “When we will get the time to administer it I have no idea. I’m glad ye told me, Alecsis. I know of no other herbs that can counteract wounds inflicted by evilly enchanted weapons. How long have ye been suffering like this?”

“It has only grown unbearable these past few hours,” Alecsis said.

“Then we must make haste. Evil wounds have a way of spreading their darkness to the very core of the soul. We don’t want ye to die and go to Serpon upon your demise.”

Antano shuddered, and Alecsis felt like doing the same, but refrained, and handed the sword to the youth. “If we chance upon foes along the way, ye’ll have two swords to defend us.”

Antano secured The Holy Avenger around his slender waist. “Thank Fortis I’m not also in armour. The weight would surely send me toppling to the ground.”

Lorenso withdrew another item from his storage chamber. “Ye’ll have to wear this, however.” He handed Alecsis his enchanted belt. Alecsis knew this wouldn’t interfere with his wound, for he had worn it all the way back to Scarthe. Glad to have it back in his possession, he secured it around his waist.

“Now we are ready,” Lorenso announced, closing the chamber door. “This way.”

“Where are we going, anyway? Do you have a plan, Lorenso?” Alecsis asked.

“To Braythe, of course, where we shall convince Prince Dorban to pay his brother a visit,” Lorenso answered.

“Sounds like a worthy venture to me,” Alecsis turned to follow him further into his domain. As he glanced around the chamber, he thought he detected a flicker of movement in the furthermost corner of the main room. He saw the curtain leading to Lorenso’s sleeping quarters whisper back into place. Was someone hiding there? Or had it been as a result of their own hurried movements? He wanted to investigate, but heard Lorenso urgently calling his name.

They left the magician’s chamber via a secret passage behind a set of shelves. It required all three to push the piece of furniture out of the way. Unfortunately they had no means of returning it once they entered the dark corridor beyond, but as few dared venture into the old wizard’s domain, it could be days before anyone realized this was how they had escaped. Lorenso withdrew several nightstones from his backpack, handing one to each of the younger men.

With the glowing rocks to light their way, Alecsis saw that this passage had not been used in a long time, Lorenso probably the only one who knew of its existence. Water had seeped through the roughly hewn walls. The stench of damp disuse filled the air, making breathing difficult.

The tunnel veered first to the left, then to the right, gently inclining upwards. At this rate, it would take them some time to reach ground level. By the amount of twists and turns, it felt as though the tunnel passed almost every chamber within the castle. At various points Alecsis saw human height panels of wood.

“Secret doorways,” Lorenso explained, as though sensing Alecsis’s silent question. “There is probably one leading to your very own chamber.”

“I wish I had known about this sooner,” Alecsis remarked.

“I’m glad you hadn’t. Finding the one leading to Princess Karina’s rooms would have been your aim no doubt,” the magician retorted.

Alecsis didn’t bother to answer this, probably because he knew the old spellbinder was right. No doubt she was there now, safe and sound in her bed. Are you thinking of me, my love? he asked silently. Fear not, the truth will come out, one way or the other, and then we’ll be together. Thinking of her spurred him on, the pain of his wound relegated to the background.

The end of the tunnel had been blocked by several large slabs of stone, but only one had to be moved aside to clamber out into the night. Freedom smelt so good Alecsis stopped to stare up at the moonlit sky, taking great gulps of fresh air. He surveyed his surroundings.

They had come out at the southern end of the castle’s base. The outer wall was less than fifteen feet away, a narrow staircase to freedom clearly visible in the moonlight. There was enough natural light for them not to need their glowing stones.

Antano and Lorenso replaced the slab of stone, while Alecsis ensured that nobody had witnessed their escape. Nothing stirred, not even the creatures of the night. No guards patrolled this section of wall. The three men darted across the grass, clambering in quick succession up the wooden staircase to the top of the wall.

Alecsis was the last to reach the rampart, his breathing laboured, and his chest heaving in pain. The other two sat between the embrasures, silhouetted against the midnight sky, cowls hiding their faces.

“This is the part I have been dreading,” Antano muttered, as Alecsis swung his legs over the edge of the wall. He followed his friend’s gaze, staring down into the murky blackness of the moat directly below them. “Ugh. What everyone ate for breakfast is swimming around down there.”

“Never fear. Ye won’t have to jump into the moat,” Lorenso reassured him. “Take hold of my hand.”

Tentatively Antano reached for it, and Lorenso glanced past him at Alecsis. “You have your magic belt back. Meet me down there by that clump of trees.” He pointed a bony finger into the darkness, and Alecsis made out the shapes of trees on the slope across the moat.

He watched Lorenso jump off the wall, pulling the young man with him. Antano had witnessed Alecsis use the power of flight, but had never flown himself, and his shriek echoed through the night. Alecsis hoped no one else had heard him, thinking the young man ought to know better.

Placing his forefinger against the sapphire, he concentrated on the sensation of flight. Then he launched from the wall. At first he fell, the precious stone seeming to have failed in its duty, but then he felt the drag of air. Orientating himself, he turned in the direction the other two had taken. He saw them ahead, slowly descending to their destination. Being airborne and as light as a feather made Alecsis feel almost normal again. For a few precious moments he experienced no pain, no weakness, simply the exhilaration of flying through the night sky.

But all too soon his destination appeared ahead of him, and he returned his hand to his belt. Tucking his feet under him, he prepared to land. The sudden jarring of ground under his dragon-hide boots brought an intense jab of agony rocketing through his body. He collapsed onto the ground, moaning in pain.

“Alecsis!” Antano gasped in horror, rushing to his side.

“Just give me a moment,” Alecsis groaned through tightly clenched teeth. “Didn’t land too well.”

“I don’t know how ye dare to fly at all. I’m still shaking in my boots,” the youth admitted, placing a soothing hand against Alecsis’s hunched shoulders. His gentle touch made him glance up. “Where’s Lorenso?”

Antano looked around, realizing for the first time that the magician had left them. He frowned. “I don’t know. He was here a moment ago.”

“I’m sure he’ll be back soon,” Alecsis said, glad of a reprieve. He sat on the dew-covered grass, a hand pressed to his aching wound. He could feel the dampness still flowing from it, but knew it wasn’t blood. On leaving the dungeon he had checked, and no dark patch of red stained his rumpled tunic. Pus, he reasoned in disgust, dirty, infected pus.

The sound of hooves and jangling bits alerted the two men to someone’s approach, and they both scrambled to their feet, ready to flee. But it was only Lorenso leading three bay mares through the trees.

“I daren’t ask how you managed that,” Alecsis said, limping up to stroke the nose of the nearest horse.

“A mere suggestion over the stable-hands’ minds to ensure they remained asleep while I whisked these fine mares away. I would have saddled Windrider for you if he wasn’t so conspicuous in the dark,” Lorenso answered with a smile.

“I understand. But I’ll miss him. And your brother’s traitorous dog.”

Antano sniggered. “Poor Alecsis. Rejected in favour of a warm hearth and the cook’s good food. Can’t say I blame Mageye.”

“Lets get moving. We need to place as much distance as we can between us and Scarthe before daybreak.” The magician placed a foot in the stirrup of the horse he had adopted. However, it required the aid of magic for him to land safely on the beast’s back. “I haven’t ridden for a while,” he admitted, patting the skittish animal to calm it.

Alecsis didn’t find it easy to mount his horse either, his injury making him gasp in pain once he landed in the saddle. Ignoring it, he took the rains, and started off through the trees. Antano followed.

Nobody looked back, too glad to have made it this far. Once they reached the road, they set off in a gallop, the hard jarring of the ground jabbing through Alex like knives. He gritted his teeth and clasped the rains, his knuckles gleaming white. Must keep going. Must not let the party down. They rescued me. The least I can do is get as far away from Scarthe as possible.

But each league made him weaker and more disorientated. The dark landscape began to shimmer around him, the road a blur of hooves. Lorenso had been right. Dragonfire’s evil was eating into him, killing him, chewing into his soul.

He tried to call out to the others, but all that emerged was a low moan of pain. Unable to stay upright any longer, he doubled over, clasping the horse’s neck. His action made the mare stop abruptly, and Alecsis slid from her back, his mind answering death’s call.