The Sword of Darrow (15 page)

From the corner of the room, a whisper of a voice responded, “I am here. Bring this life to an end.”

Asterux moved across the room, stepping more skillfully in the dark. He reached the sound and without a word unlocked the dwarf’s irons.

Timwee looked up at the wizard, blinking in disbelief. What was a human doing in the dungeon?

“Where is Hugarious?” Asterux asked.

“You mean Hugga Hugga? I’ll show you.” The dwarf eased his body upward, balanced himself on feeble legs, and led Asterux to another room.

Soon both prisoners stood before Asterux, blinking in awe.

“Make not a sound. The kingdom has come to your rescue. Follow me.”

With that, he hurled the keys to a prisoner who unlocked himself and passed them to another. One by one, the prisoners rose and headed up the stairs.

Asterux led his warriors away from the stairs. They entered the latrine. The two prisoners blinked, confused. Asterux turned and pointed to a hole, the width of a medium tree.

“Go through the hole.” The prisoners looked back; Timwee gulped.

“There is a bucket on the other side. Grab it. It will lift you to the palace yard.”

Without a second’s delay, the dwarf had leaped into the hole and slid down the stinking passageway, and then a splash sounded below. Hugga Hugga tried to follow, but his horns stretched wider than the hole.

Hugga Hugga turned to Asterux with a frightened stare. Meanwhile, they heard screams as prisoners streamed into the yard.

A cry rang out from the top of the dungeon stairs. The goblins had arrived.

The old wizard’s eyes scanned the chamber. The walls were stone and the mortar was crumbling in between. He drew a knife and thrust it in a crack. He tugged on the stone and it began to move.

Hugga Hugga grabbed at the stone and pulled it free. He motioned with his hands, for a Minotaur cannot speak, pointing at the stone and his horns.

“On your back,” shouted Asterux, understanding instantly.

The dull thud of batons striking bodies rang in the air—thuds followed by cries of pain.

Asterux raised the stone high and brought it crashing down on the Minotaur’s horns. Hugga Hugga bellowed in response. Again, Asterux struck. In six strokes of the stone, Asterux had broken the horns on each side. Hugga Hugga leaped back into the hole. Still he was stuck. A guard entered the room and raised his club to strike Asterux. Asterux moved to the side. The club struck Hugga Hugga on the head. The blow was all he needed.

The Minotaur slid bellowing down the chute.

In the yard, under the shadow of the tower, Darrow stared into the black pit below. The stench was strong and Darrow was sure he would faint. As quietly as possible, he lowered a large bucket, attached to a rope. The rope was attached to a crank, which could be turned to lift the bucket back up. Darrow listened carefully. When the bucket struck the surface, he stopped.

Darrow looked down and fell to his knees. Grasping the rope, he swung the bucket gingerly, as close as possible to where he believed the hole might be. Cinders rose in the air from the stable fire, lighting the yard. Now, he could see the hole. He clutched the rope with both hands, keeping enough tension so that neither warrior would fall into the terrible ooze below.

The sky burned brighter still and cinders darted about like lunatic stars. Carefully, ever so carefully, he positioned the bucket and set the rope tight. He peered down into the hole and waited.

Suddenly, a black ball shot out of the wall and into the muck. Timwee missed the bucket but managed to grab its side. Darrow reached for the crank and began to pull. Soon, Timwee was standing on the ground.

“How do you like the smell of freedom?” Darrow asked.

Timwee stuttered, “Just fine to me.”

“Where is Hugga Hugga?”

“I don’t know. He was right behind me.”

Darrow peered into the pit. The sky was bright with embers. One of the embers fell into the pit. Suddenly, flames rose from the liquid below.

It had been several minutes since Timwee had been lifted from the muck. Darrow looked nervously across the yard.

“We should go.”

”No, wait. He will find a way.”

The rope tightened in his hands. The old Minotaur had caught the bucket. He was heavier than Timwee and almost pulled Darrow into the pit. The bucket fell into the muck. The ripple stirred the flames. Then the bucket itself was on fire. The Minotaur bellowed a low moaning cry.

Together, Darrow and Timwee pulled at the crank. Slowly, too slowly, they lifted the bucket upward. Darrow looked down and there were flames on the rope. Another moan arose from the pit. The stubs of his broken horns burning with flame, Hugga Hugga reached toward the wall of the pit. There was a loud snap and the bucket fell into the depths below. The Minotaur hung by one hand that gripped the wall.

Darrow and the dwarf grabbed both arms and lifted him out, then rolled him across the ground to put out the fire. As the Minotaur grimaced in pain, Darrow led him across the yard. They arrived at the small door that was the gong farmer’s exit.

Darrow looked back at the palace. The ground was littered with garments and cups where the goblins had celebrated only hours before. A reflection caught his eye. He ran from the exit and retrieved a small sword.

When he returned, they ran to the opening in the wall where the gong farmer dumps his cargo. Through the opening, across the moat, and the three lone soldiers of Sonnencrest disappeared into the night.

D
arrow looked at the sky, noticing the streaks of orange appearing in the east, then indicated a nearby wood. It wasn’t safe for the warriors to be on the road during the day, and they needed to find a place to rest.

Neither Hugga Hugga nor Timwee had walked more than the length of a room in ten long years. But in the previous evening, they had traveled miles from the dungeon, through fields and woodlands, in an attempt to avoid the roads where goblin patrols traveled.

Hugga Hugga wobbled ahead, his legs thin and stiff. His ribs showed through his chest and his back sagged under the weight of his enormous head, now adorned with a crown of stubs and splinters that had once been his horns.

But it was the dwarf, Timwee, who had suffered most. In the night, he had fallen and broken a shoulder. Each step sent a sharp throbbing pain through his chest and down his arm.

The party came to a small brook, and Timwee collapsed in the streambed, frantically scooping water into his mouth with one hand. For a long time, Hugga Hugga just sat on the bank, too tired even to relieve his thirst.

“Wait here,” said Darrow. “We need a place to hide.”

Darrow followed the brook upstream through the forest. Darrow stepped faster as the brook crossed open fields, but for the most part, the woodlands sheltered it from view of the road. He passed a few farmhouses but dared not approach. There was nowhere the goblins would not search. Anyone caught aiding a prisoner would surely face death.

The sun rose higher and the birds burst into song. Darrow barely noticed. He stepped frantically, scanning the landscape for anywhere to hide.

At the edge of a field, Darrow heard a voice. Fearing goblins, he moved behind a tree. He listened closely and realized that what he was hearing was not the sound of someone speaking but sobbing. He stepped out from behind the tree and could just see a small shed beyond the field.

Darrow approached the shed with slow steps, his eyes darting in every direction. The sobs grew louder. The shed was small, as long as two men lying end to end and half as wide. The door was gone from the hinges, and it had no windows at all.

Darrow eased his head into the doorway. Curled up in the corner was a cave troll. The size of the creature frightened Darrow, who jumped back. But the troll looked up at Darrow, sad-eyed and motionless. Darrow took a slow step inside.

“Who are you?” Darrow asked.

“Naark,” the troll answered, his voice thick and gravelly.

“What are you doing here?”

“I have nowhere to go.”

“And where did you come from?”

“The dungeon,” Naark answered, and continued his pitiful sobbing.

Darrow quickly looked around the shed. It was a shed where a farmer had once stored corn, but it was a long time since it had been used. It was not much of a hiding place, but it would have to do.

“Stop crying,” Darrow said gently. “Come with me.”

The troll staggered to his feet and followed Darrow downstream. Hugga Hugga and Timwee were asleep. The cave troll let out a cry when he saw the two warriors, but Darrow assured him that they were friends. Naark lifted Timwee to his back and the four warriors headed to the shed.

They spoke no words; within seconds of arriving, they were all asleep, piled up on one another in the tiny confines of their hiding place.

It was midafternoon when Timwee awoke. He opened his eyes, surprised by his surroundings and the bright light shining through the doorway. As he rose, he grimaced, gripping his shoulder, and remembering the ordeal. He became nervous. The others were sleeping, but he did not care. He shook Darrow. For the first time since leaving the dungeon, Timwee asked questions.

“Who are you? Where are we going? Is the king alive?”

“I am Darrow of Ael. I freed you because I need soldiers to drive the goblins from Sonnencrest. And the king is dead,” Darrow answered calmly.

Hugga Hugga opened his eyes and, upon hearing these last words, blinked sadly. Naark snored.

Timwee looked down at his shrunken body and across at Hugga Hugga, who looked no better than he. He looked at Darrow, a boy who walked with a limp but spoke so bravely.

“Who sent you?”

“I came on my own.”

Hugga Hugga reached over and touched Timwee’s arm, giving him a stern look.

“Have you fought before?”

“Never.”

Hugga Hugga and Timwee exchanged nervous glances.

“Where is the army?” Timwee asked.

“The army is us,” Darrow replied.

Darrow looked at his bewildered comrades with fierce, determined eyes.

“You need not tell me that the road ahead is hard. I am young. I walk with a limp and there are many who are stronger than I. But no strong warrior has stepped forward to lead our battle. If you want to save our kingdom, you’ll have to fight with me.”

The warriors just stared.

“Look, I just rescued two of the greatest warriors of Sonnencrest.”

Timwee’s face took on a more respectful look, but he could think of nothing to say. He wanted to say he was old and weak and could no longer fight. But his pride would not allow it. His head sagged and he looked at the ground.

Hugga Hugga touched Timwee gently and signaled with his hands. Timwee translated.

“What has happened in the last ten years?”

It had not occurred to Darrow that, being locked in the dungeon, they would know nothing of the outside world. So Darrow began by describing how the king and his family had been killed.

Hugga Hugga signaled a question with his hands.

“All of them?” Timwee interpreted.

“All but the littlest princess. She escaped but has not been heard from since.”

Hugga Hugga began to weep.

With great passion, Darrow continued to tell, in long detail, how the goblins had killed the innocent, burned the countryside, and impoverished the kingdom.

As Darrow described all that had happened, the two old warriors stirred. Now they were filled with anger. But Darrow was just beginning.

A hundred times, he had considered what he might say to convince others to join his cause. Now, the first three recruits stood before him. His great passion poured forth as he pleaded his cause.

“This tragedy facing our kingdom has little to do with hunger or poverty or cruelty or death. A far greater loss has overtaken our land. Where brave warriors once fought and wise men ruled, tyranny reigns. Our kingdom stands paralyzed by fear and despair.

“The swords of four warriors can do little to the goblins. But our courage can awaken others. Each small victory will draw new volunteers to our cause. Our actions will rekindle powerful hopes. Those hopes can arouse our people and fuel the greater victories to come.

“As we sit here now, there is little that recommends our chances for success. From your years in prison, you are so weak you can hardly walk. I am inexperienced, lame, young. But what we need is not the strength or the experience or the will to fight. That will come later.

“What we need now is the courage to believe. That courage is the beginning. From that beginning we can, I know, inspire a great army more powerful than
three
goblin nations.”

Naark just blinked, awakened by all this talk. But Timwee and Hugga Hugga looked at one another, amazed by Darrow’s words.

For what must have been three or four minutes, Hugga Hugga made motions with his hands. When he finished, Timwee looked back at the Minotaur and nodded his agreement. Then he turned to Darrow.

“We are weak. We have not fought in ten long years. But we are not defeated. Our hearts remain strong. Win or lose, live or die, we will stand with you in this quest.”

“Then join me in a band of first believers—volunteers ready to risk their lives to free Sonnencrest.”

Darrow raised his small sword.

Timwee and Hugga Hugga exchanged uncomfortable glances. A strange pause filled the shed. Darrow was confused.

Naark blurted out, “I have no sword.”

Darrow realized his was the only weapon. He thought how his large words measured against this tiny force, broken in body and without arms. But he did not waver.

“To launch our band, we must believe.”

In a voice so loud and firm that the others feared he might alert goblin patrols, he shouted: “Hold out your swords!”

So Timwee, Hugga Hugga, and Naark, without hesitation, held up imaginary swords and repeated after Darrow:

To this small but mighty band

I pledge my allegiance, my honor, and my life

For a cause more noble and precious

Than the soul of creature or man

To break the chains of fear that enslave our people

To ignite in our countrymen the flames of hope

To inspire the courage of others

To bring a new sunrise of peace, honor, and virtue to our nation

For these things no price is too large, no sacrifice too great

A band of first believers we shall be

And through our deeds will our people be free.

At the end of the pledge, Hugga Hugga was once again overcome with emotion. Timwee lifted his imaginary sword high into the air and cried, “So it shall be! So it shall be!”

Satisfied, Darrow urged his warriors to rest once more. His first victory had been won.