Rats scurried away from the group as they walked down the dimly lit shaft of an old mine. Thorik’s head hung low as he was pushed forward. “Are you sure Avanda is all right?”
Santorray continued to lower his head to avoid the beams that supported the rock ceiling. “Yes, I’m sure. I stopped them before they injured her,” he said in his usual deep voice. “If you ask me that one more time, you’ll be the one that’s injured.”
A group of bad-tempered guards moved the two deeper into the mountain. Each could blame their attitudes on their inhospitable working conditions and lack of hygiene, but the reality was they simply took pleasure in causing pain to others. It was the only power they had left in their lives. Even though they weren’t prisoners, quitting wasn’t an option, especially after what they had witnessed on a daily basis. An ex-guard telling tales didn’t live long in Southwind.
Shaking his head, Thorik thought about his mistakes. “I should have walked her back to the ship. He wouldn’t have touched her if I had been there.”
Santorray ducked under a low ceiling beam as they entered a long corridor with cells on both sides. “You would have been killed at the start, to get you out of the way.”
“You don’t know that. I would have protected her.”
“Even if you had the soul of a Blothrud, you’re still only a Num,” Santorray said, as one of the general’s personal guards unlocked their cell.
Santorray’s words only added to Thorik’s grief. “This was a bad idea. This is entirely my fault.”
“Yes it is,” the lead guard said. “And now it’a be my job to make sure ya pay for it.” Laughing, he continued, “And you’ll pay. Again and again.”
Pushing Thorik into the cell, the guard moved out of the way for Santorray to be escorted in by several armed men. Locking the door behind them, the general’s guard handed the keys over. “They’re all yours, Da’Shawn. You have the general’s orders. The Blothrud losses one finger each day for his crime against Master Lucian.”
Santorray tightened his fists as he stood firm in the center of the cell. “Just try.” He then spit on the floor near the cell door.
The cell was dark with cold rock walls, floor and ceiling and metal bars along one side. Flickering mining lanterns provided the only light from the corridor, which ran down the center of the dank detention units. Water dripped from cracks in the ceiling, creating puddles for the local insects to swarm and breed. Scattered remains of the prior inmates filled the cell with an overwhelming odor of rotting flesh.
Clutching the bars of the door, Da’Shawn looked through them at the Blothrud. Chewing on tobacco, he allowed it to drip down his chin before finally spitting and leaving a string of brown saliva from his lower lip down the front of his soiled shirt. “Last inmate that tried ta escape made it up to da second level b’fore he was eaten by our Frudorian Dragon. Duuke’s always hungry for another meal.”
Looking around the prison cell floor, he continued. “Seeing that he was quickly disposed of, we took his punishment out on his cell-mate.” The guard reached his short spear through the bars into the cell and poked at the remaining torso of a human body before looking at Thorik. “I’d suggest ya talk yur big friend outta make’n a mistake that you end up paying fer.”
Santorray ignored the dramatic speech as he moved to the back of the cell, kicking decomposing body parts out of his way.
“We don’t want any trouble. We won’t talk about what happened.” Thorik attempted to get on the guard’s good side. “We will serve our time for disorderly conduct and be on our way.”
“Your time?” Da’Shawn’s dirty face exposed several cracked and missing teeth as he smiled. “Better make yourself at home, Num. you’ve stepped into a rat’s nest when you crossed Lucian. During his bachelor’s party, no less. Soon to be wed to the granddaughter of the Matriarch, he is. She runs all the business in Southwind and Lucian will be inheriting this ‘ere mine once his vows are said. So he makes the rules. You ain’t going nowhere.”
Da’Shawn chuckled to himself as he stepped away from the cell and walked back down the corridor.
The new inmates listened to the complaints of other prisoners as the guard walked past their cells.
Santorray spit in his hands and rubbed them together before applying it to the open wound on his leg. “It would have been easier to steal something.”
“What?”
“You picked a dangerous way to get in here.”
Thorik was shocked at the comments. “What makes you think that I would want to be in here, sitting in a disgusting prison cell?”
“I can tell by your speech that you’re from the north. There are only three reasons people from the north come to Southwind. Either they’re here to trade, sent to the mines as slaves, or journeyed here to save someone from the mines.”
“How do you know I’m not here to trade?”
“Okay, who are you here to trade with? Be careful, I know most of the trading merchants in this area.”
Thorik felt exposed, as though the Blothrud could read his thoughts. “You wouldn’t know him, he’s new.”
“Like I said, you picked a dangerous way to get in here.”
“I didn’t start the fight, you did.”
“No, but I’m guessing you were sitting in the bar drinking up some bravery to do enough to get thrown in here. I’ve seen it before. It usually ends with your own death in the mines.”
Frustrated, Thorik didn’t like being on the defensive. “How about you? Who are you trying to get out?”
“I came back to Southwind to pay back an old debt.”
“Was it worth it? Now you’re just going to rot away in here.”
“Yes, I’ve made my mark on Lucian to remind him of his actions. But no, I don’t plan on rotting away. I’ll be escaping from here.”
Thorik recalled the guard’s story. “Um, if you escape, they will take it out on me.”
“Then I would suggest you escape with me.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“I can’t tell you.”
Santorray put his foot under one of the rotting bodies and kicked it toward the Num. “Then I guess you will become a permanent resident.”
Decaying flesh flung off the pelvis and spine as is rolled up to Thorik. His stomach churned at the sight. He surely didn’t want to end up like that.
Weighing his options, he considered what his next move would be. “Can you give me a few days before you escape?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Give me a good reason why I should allow these humans to cut off a few of my fingers over the next few days. On top of that, we just accused Lucian of rape, which means we’ll be lucky if they don’t try to kill us before we get a chance to talk to anyone else.” The Blothrud reached down, plucked a slug up from the floor, and set it in the blood running down from his cut leg. “Why are you here? Who is so important to get out of here that you’re willing to be beaten and worked to death?”
Thorik sighed. “I can’t tell you. I don’t even know you.”
“San-tor-ray is the name.” The Blothrud rolled the ‘r’ with pride. “And yours?”
“Sec Thorik Dain of Farbank.”
“Okay, Sec, who is it you’re after? Who should I put my fingers and my life on the line for, by staying in here?”
“No, it’s Thorik, not Sec.”
“Yes, I know. So who are you looking for, Sec.”
Thorik didn’t have many alternatives. “This has gotten way out of control. I had planned on being thrown into here based on a verbal confrontation with some local guards. A two-night offense.” Shaking his head in disbelief, he began to pace. “I never expected to have my life at risk.”
Santorray was getting tired of Thorik’s lack of forthcoming information. “Not my problem. I’m escaping with or without you.”
“Give me a day. Just one day to see if he is even here.”
“Who? Who is worth one of my fingers???
?
Stopping his pacing, he walked closer to the Del’Unday. Thorik’s lips tightened and his voice lowered. “Ericc Dovenar.”
Perking the beast’s interest, Santorray sat up slightly. “And why would you be looking for the son of Ambrosius?”
“You know him? But how?”
“Everyone knows the Dovenar family tree. It’s just hard to tell the good branches from the bad ones. Are you working for Darkmere to assassinate the hidden son?”
Thorik looked shocked at the suggestion. “No, just the opposite. I’ve come to protect him from Darkmere.”
A grand, and yet terrifying, laugh bellowed out of Santorray. “You? You can’t protect yourself, let alone Ericc from the likes of Darkmere.”
“I stopped Lucian from ending your life,” Thorik snapped back. He began to pace again, worried about how truthful Santorray’s words could be.
Still chuckling, the Blothrud fired back, “True, but I was also getting ready to fight thirty men at the time. All you had to worry about was one, a drunken one at that.” Watching the Num’s silhouette travel back and forth in front of the yellow lantern light was getting tiresome for the beast. “If you don’t stop pacing I’m going to break your leg off and eat it for my next meal.”
Thorik’s face flushed partly from embarrassment and partly from frustration as he walked over to the sitting Del’Unday. “Listen, I’m not asking for your help.” Straightening his back, he lifted his chest. “I don’t need your help. All I’m requesting is that you give me enough time to find him before you destroy my plans. One day. Two nights, tonight and the next.”
Santorray looked at the little Num standing proud with conviction. “You have one day, Sec. I expect them to come for their first finger after I’ve given them a hard day’s work; so get it done early so the second night is not needed. Do you know what he looks like?”
“I don’t have a clue.”
Santorray nodded, expecting no less. “Excellent.”
Chapter 6
Finding Ericc