Into The Labyrinth - a work of fiction

[Terquem]

Part 10

Bracing his elbow against his knee and using his forearm like a lever, in a crouching position, and with his left arm curved above his forehead for protection, Brendun shoved the lid of the large sea chest up and away.

*Sha-POOF*

There was a short but loud sound, like a bag of flour being dropped on the floor from a great height and the room filled with fine white smoke. The smoke wasn’t toxic, nor did it obscure their vision, much, but it created a moment of chaos that was all that was needed.

Through the smoke Brendun saw three figures, all human, one female and two males, dressed in the garb of sailors, and brandishing weapons. They were all about the same height and same build, all alike in features, too alike in features.
“It’s a summing spell!” Brendun shouted.

“How in the world?” Tabitha cried.

Brendun rolled away from the chest, and came to a kneeling position a few feet away, with his sword in his right hand. He hoped the summoned fighters had been delayed as much by the distracting smoke as he and his friends were and took a moment to draw a long dagger from his right hip, hanging low off his belt, with his left hand. He had dropped the tools he had been holding, not at all concerned with where they ended up on the floor. The dagger in his left hand had been a trusted weapon for many long years. It was old, older than his sword by five years at least. His father had given it to him when he first left home, at the age of fourteen. It wasn’t a sharp knife, but it had a strong blade and a fine point. If anything, it would make his defense stronger against at least two of the weapons he saw.

The first figure he could make out held a cutlass in his right hand and had a spiked buckler strapped to his left forearm. He was standing about twelve feet from Brendun, facing toward where Alo had been crouching low to the ground. The second figure, just a few feet behind the first figure and to Brendun’s right was the female figure, and she held a long pole with a small gaff on the end. The last figure stood further away from the first two, and again off to Brendun’s right, and this fellow was holding a pair of small axes, one in each hand. From what he could make out, the summoned fighters were not wearing any armor.
Somewhere inside the chest, Brendun knew, there would be one or more Xason resonators, or often also called a Jackson’s Kit. These small square devices were built from fine silver and specially tuned crystals, with spring driven gears and fine clockwork mechanisms that could cost a fortune to have made. These, part magical, part mechanical, devices could be charged with a wizard’s strength. It would be the power from these devices that summoned these warriors here, and as long as those devices had stored energy within them, these warriors would remain.

Magic, in the world as he understood it, was powerful, dangerous, complicated, and usually short lasting, because all magic spells drew their power from living things, and the drain of that life energy could not be sustained for long. A living, breathing wizard might be able to throw down some fire spells, or even lift a person off the ground for a short while, but eventually the power to maintain such magic exhausted the spell caster, and if not managed carefully these types of spells could even knock a wizard unconscious from the effort to manifest such power. The most wondrous of these spells of them all, in Brendun’s mind, where the spells that summoned creatures into existence out of nothing. These summoned beings had the appearance of being alive, even acted as if they were living beings, but it was impossible to draw the magic from them. Brendon had never been told why that was.

A wizard might create an image of something, or even manage to infuse the magic with talent and strength to create an illusion, something more convincing than a mere image, but a summoned thing was real. A summoned creature had flesh and blood. It could fight and was under the complete control of the wizard that summoned it, even to the point of fighting to its death without a second thought. The only drawback to these summoned creatures was that they required large amounts of power, strength from the wizard who summoned them, to keep them materialized in this reality.

He had never studied this magic. He didn’t know from what realm, world, or dimension these kinds of summoned warriors came from, but Brendon knew that as long as they were here and if the proper alignment of the Jackson’s kits was maintained, the spell that had been triggered would run its course, and in this case it was clear the spell trap was made to summon these warriors to kill anyone who was around the chest once the spell was activated. These summoned pirate warriors would fight until they were all dead, Brendon and his friends were dead, or the power in the resonators was exhausted. He could risk trying to find the devices, which were hidden in the construction of the chest somewhere, and if he could find them quickly enough, he knew how to safely disable them. But that would mean that Tabitha and Alo would be outnumbered. There was no way for him to know how skilled, strong, or smart these summoned warriors were. They could prove to be vastly beyond his or the other’s skills, but even if they were only average warriors at all, he knew that taking time to search for the resonators was not an option. He was going to have to fight, and Brendun only hoped he and his friends could survive long enough to run the chest out of strength or kill the pirates before they killed them.

[Terquem]

Part 11

Things began to happen faster than Brendun could track. To his right Tabitha took the crossbow off the floor and in the same motion triggered it sending the bolt flying low at one of the summoned pirates. Brendun spun his head to the left to see if he could find Alo and as he did, the pirate in the middle saw him through the mist, turned on her heels and came at him.

He had no time! He shouted a cryptic warning, “The Floor!” And then he brought his other foot up under him until he was rocking on his heels crouching low. He thought for a moment of dropping the sword, afraid it would be of no use against the long-handled gaff, but then he had an idea.

Brendun moved at the pirate coming toward him and waited until she drew the gaff to one side in a telling motion that she was aiming for his legs, probably meaning to trip him in the first attack, putting him at a disadvantage right from the start. He leaned far over toward that side and struck the gaff with the sword shoving it back. Her body was twisted already, and the blow loosened her grip on her weapon. One of her hands came free of the gaff and the end hit the floor before she could bring it forward.

He was trying to decide if going left, to help Alo was more important than dealing with the pirate in front of him when out of the corner of his eye he saw the octopus-girl rise quickly off the ground with both of her swords ready. She lunged at the pirate near her, and Brendun had to shout again, “The Floor!”

This time the warning sank in and Alo, with an agility far beyond anything Brendun knew the girl was capable of, seemed to leap off the ground in a fluid extension of one, two, three, then four tentacles each one following one after the other, until she sprung completely over the section of the floor that he had marked out with pieces of wood.

Alo landed in a flawless reverse of the same motion which took her off the ground, to the right of her attacker and beside him. Her swords flashed in the torchlight and ribbons of red blood splashed away from the man’s arms. He tried to outmaneuver the octopus, by stepping quickly to his left, and that was his demise. Brendun only had a moment to watch as the man disappeared through the false floor. The pirate Brendun was tangling with had recovered her weapon and was taking a defensive stand close to him, waiting for him to make the next move.

The pirate’s scream, from the pit trap he had stepped in, came well after he had fallen, or it seemed that way to Brendun.

Once again, the woman in front of him took a widespread, two-handed hold on the handle of the gaff, this time bringing it over her head for a powerful downward smash, but Brendun took that opportunity to leap at her. Dropping the sword, relying on the dagger and his brawling skill to hopefully catch the pirate of balance and drive her to the ground, Brendun threw himself at his attacker.
He had no idea what situation Tabitha was in now, nor could he afford to take his eyes off this pirate as his full weight slammed into hers, to see what Alo was doing now. The woman did not drop the gaff but brought it down behind Brendun’s back in a vise like clamp at his shoulders. This kept his dagger arm from being able to extend out far enough and as he brought his arm in the dagger only struck the pirate’s belt and was stopped. Then he felt them both falling to the side as she shifted her hips.

He fell on top of her, the gaff pinning his shoulders to her waist. She wrapped her legs around his hips and quickly brought the gaff up to the back of his neck pulling in with such strength that Brendun blew out his last held breath before he had any chance to prepare.

Brendun felt his eyes close and saw bright lights behind his eyelids, blinking and growing in intensity. It was an experience he knew well. The pirate had not only managed to get his breath but had clamped down hard enough to pinch the blood flowing to his brain. It would not be long before he lost consciousness and with one last effort, he pointed the heavy dagger up and forced his arm to extend. The blade pierced her flesh and went in far enough to strike her lung, he knew, but it was not going to be enough?

Suddenly the woman below him went completely limp. The gaff swung away from his neck as her hands lost all strength. Brendun pitched his weight to the right, staying as far away from the opening in the floor as he could and lay on his back gasping for breath. When he opened his eyes he saw Alo with her body low over the pirate woman’s chest, both swords buried through the woman’s breast.
In another instant the summoned pirate’s dead body vanished.

“That was too damned close,” Brendun stammered. Looking up at Alo, he tried to get to his feet, and reaching out a hand as he stumbled, he said, “Tabitha, give me a hand, will you?”

There was no response.

He rolled, instead, onto his hands and knees, and turned his head in the direction where Tabatha was last kneeling on the floor. She was still on her knees. Her expression was blank, except for a slight smile. She was holding her right shoulder with her left hand. Her shirt was completely covered in blood. Tabitha’s eyes closed, and shell fell forward onto her face.

[Terquem]

Part 12

“Tabitha!” Brendun shouted, as he watched her fall, and then he remembered, the third pirate was still somewhere around. He had foolishly forgotten and now the only thing he could do was shout another warning to Alo as he scrambled to get to his feet.

“Alo, the other pirate, do you see him?”

Alo spun on her tentacles, drawing her swords upward as she moved, and then slid sideways across Brendun’s field of view, moving quickly to his right and toward the open chest.

“There, ohhhffer that wwwayhhh,” Alo said, pointing to the left.

The third pirate was still holding the two, small hand axes but had moved in a semicircle out and away from Tabitha until he was standing nearer to the pile of rubble on the far side of the room. It was two against one now, and those were never good odds for a fighter with small weapons. He must have gotten the jump on Tabitha, and now Brendun wasn’t sure his friend was even still alive.

He fought the urge to run to Tabitha’s side, and take her up in his arms, tell her everything would be all right. They had had many close calls together, the two of them, many scrapes, bruises, and hurts of every kind were shared between the two of them, even caused by each other in fact, but knowing she was lying on the floor bleeding heavily was tearing Brendun’s heart into pieces.

He took one step to his right, and without looking away from the pirate, Brendun whispered to Alo, “There’s just no way that there’s enough strength in that chest to keep this pirate here for very long. All we should have to do is move in opposite directions, keep him confused and on the defense and eventually he should return to whatever world he was summoned from, but we need to get to Tabitha, quickly, so I don’t know what else to do but take this guy head on and see what he’s…”

Before Brendun could finish, Alo charged across the room as fast as six limbs could propel her forward. She caught the pirate by surprise and slashed with one rapier, while stabbing with the second. The summoned pirate was just too slow to put up any kind of defense and as quickly as Alo’s blows struck, he was disappearing in a vapor that vanished almost immediately.

With that, Brendun turned and threw himself on the ground sliding toward Tabitha until her head was in his hands. He gently lifted her by the sides of her head, feeling her thick, silky hair between his fingers. She was still warm, and for that he gave a soft whispered thank you to the gods.

“Tabitha, Tabitha, sweetheart, open your eyes, Tabitha, say something, Tabitha?” Brendun spoke to her in a tone that he had not forgotten, from a time when they were much closer than they were now.

She did not respond, and he leaned his ear down close to her lips. He could feel her breaths, but they were slow and shallow. He pulled his knees up under him and raised her slowly until he could see the wound on her shoulder. It was large, deep, and bleeding, but thankfully it was not spurting out blood into the air, which told him the blow had missed arteries, and again for that he was thankful. It didn’t look like the sort of wound that he felt should have taken Tabitha out of the fight, and as he tried to get one arm around her back, to support her slight upper body, he discovered the real reason she had fallen.

Tabitha’s back was wet with blood as well. The pirate somehow had gotten behind her before she had time to get on her feet and slashed a long wound across her back below her ribs. She had lost a lot of blood in a short amount of time, and Brendun wasn’t sure there was anything he could do to help her. The thought that she was going to die in his arms overwhelmed him and he felt the sting of hot tears fill his eyes.

“The kit!” Alo said as she came up behind Brendun. “Shhhe ahas thhhhe healinah kit, inah hhhherrrr pouch.”

“Yes, the healer’s kit, how did I forget?” Brendun said choking back his grief. He reached down to her waist, and gently felt around for the fold where her pouch was hidden.

“Keep trying mister, it’s a bit lower than that,” Tabatha spoke with heaves of her chest.

“Tabitha!” Brendun scolded, “Stop scaring me to death, I’m looking for your pouch, not a good time.”

“Good times don’t come cheap,” Tabitha coughed.

It was an inside joke, a thing from their past that once would have made them both laugh out loud. He remembered those times, and emotions ran over him threatening to shut down every thought he had.

“She’sssh ahhlivvhe,” Alo exclaimed, and dropped low to the ground beside Brendun. She wrapped the two of them together with three of her tentacles, raising the swords up and out of the way and pushed her mantle hard against them.

The warmth of Alo’s body gave Brendun renewed strength and purpose. His fingers found the opening of Tabitha’s pouch and as if he had never forgotten how to do this, as if it was only a day since they last saw each other, and not a year, he wiggled his hand gentle back and forth until the muscles of her pouch relaxed and his hand slid inside. He found the kit easily and pulled it free. With one hand still behind Tabitha’s back, he unrolled the leather on Tabitha’s stomach, quickly ran his hand over the contents and then recognized the bottles that held the sealer. The same liquid she had used earlier on his leg to close the wound from tumbling into Alo’s rapier.

He raised the first bottle slowly, giving it a gentle shake. It was half empty, and he dropped it, grabbing for the other.

“I don’t know if there is enough to do the job,” he said more to himself than to the others.

He looked first at Tabitha’s back, and then at her shoulder. The shoulder had stopped bleeding heavily, but was oozing still, while her back seemed to be the worst of the two. “Help me roll her over,” he said to Alo, and then put the bottle of sealer in his teeth.

Working together Alo and Brendun rolled Tabitha onto her front side. Alo moved quickly to reposition Tabitha’s arms as they worked.

Brendun took the bottle from his teeth, and said to Alo, “Hold her head to the side, and watch her mouth, in case she begins to vomit.” And then he leaned close to Tabitha’s ear, gently brushed her hair away and placed a kiss right where she liked it best, saying, “Tabitha, this might sting.”

[Terquem]

Part 13

With the fingers of one hand Brendun stretched out the fabric of Tabitha’s shirt and holding the last bottle of nacromoid oil he pulled the stopper from the bottle with his teeth and quickly poured all of it out along the gash on Tabitha’s back as carefully as he could to avoid any of the chemical being wasted on her cloths.

He braced his body against hers expecting the reaction to the stinging oil to cause her to spasm uncontrollably, but she did not move. Tabitha lay limp on the floor, with Alo cradling her head. Again, Brendun leaned his head far to the ground and placed his ear near his friend’s lips, listening, feeling for life.

“She still alive,” Brendun let out with a sigh as he straightened up, “But she won’t last very long, even with the oil sealing that wound. She’s lost a lot of blood, and I think she’s in shock. We’ve got to get her out of here, as fast as we can, and I don’t know how to do that.”

“Thhhherressssaa sssohhhmeonneha hhinnn thhheha ssssity wwwhhhoa cahhhannnn hhhelpaha, wwhhhhee…”

“Alo, Alo,” Brendun took the girl’s free tentacles in his hands and pulled her to him, making her release her hold on Tabitha’s head, “Listen to me. You must concentrate. Slow down, I don’t understand you when you get excited like this.”
The octopus-girl pressed her head against Brendun’s shoulder and began to cry.

“I am sorry,” she said between sobs placing out each word with a measured breath between them. “There is a man-being in the city that can help us. He has helped us before if we can reach him in time. I know the way. Can you carry Tabitha by yourself?”

“Yes, yes I can,” Brendun soothed the girl with his words. “But that will mean that you must lead the way. I’ll be right behind you, but I won’t be able to help you if we are caught off guard, until I can set her down safely. Do you understand what that means?”

Alo pulled out of Brendun’s grip and rose to her full height. She slid across the floor to where the brand was lying, took it from the ground in one tentacle, and with two others drew her swords, turned back to Brendun and said slowly, “Where should I go?”

“That’s the spirit, Alo,” Brendun stood and looked around the room. He first went to the torches, still burning and shedding some light all around, and with his foot he stomped out two of them, picking up the third he went to the chest, the sea chest that was the cause of the problem they now had to face.

He looked into the chest and was disappointed. It was mostly empty. He could even see the bottom of the chest through the few items lying in it. A couple of bags, small, but made of heavy material were near one corner of the box, and by the lumpy shape of them he could be certain they were filled with coins. Near them was a pile of gold and silver chains with various trinkets and amulets of precious stones, fancy carvings from whale teeth, and other moderately valuable trinkets, baubles, and other small things he could not recognize. Laying a little way from this small pile of treasure was a jeweled handled sabre, in a leather scabbard lying across what looked to be a small empty leather satchel. At least that was convenient, Brendun though. Everything except the sabre would fit easily in the satchel, and he quickly gathered the treasure and began shoving it into the bag. That was when he noticed a slim, leather-bound book in the satchel. He did not take the time to examine it, but just shoved it aside, and continued to fill the bag with everything that was there. He slung the satchel over one shoulder, stuffed the sabre into his belt, and then turned.

“We’ve found a decent treasure here, and I only hope it is enough to pay for the healing Tabitha needs and leave us enough left over to buy some better gear. When we get out of here, and we will in time, I can feel it, we will, we’ll rest up a few days and try again. Now let’s find the pirate’s regular escape from this place. It can’t be far. There, head down that passageway across the way. I’ll be right behind you. Keep the brand high and try not to be in a hurry. Slow and steady wins the race. I always say,” Brendun said, throwing the last torch down and stomping it out.

Alo led the way, while Brendun picked Tabitha up with both hands, cradling her close to his chest. He remembered how light she was, and he was thankful she wasn’t wearing a chain mail shirt or any sort of breast plate that he would have had to leave behind, but of course she hadn’t dressed for this sort of thing, and neither had he. Armor would have made the difference in Tabitha’s condition right now, but now was not the time to second guess her, or trouble himself with bad decisions he had already made.

They moved slowly through a twisting passageway of natural stone and earth shored up in several places with bricks and timbers. Someone had put some serious work into this little hideout, and it had not been too long ago. In this damp environment, the wood would have rotted away in ten years or more, unless it had neem maintained. Twice the passageway opened into larger rooms, empty, except for broken furniture, probably the work of the toad-folk.

It seemed like a long time had passed, too long Brendun worried, when quite unexpectedly Alo came to a stop.

Brendun’s breathing, by this time, had become labored, and he had missed what Alo had heard at first.

Speaking slowly, Alo said, “Do you hear that?”

Brendun closed his mouth, took a few deep breaths in and out through his nose, and listened. Ahead of them came the sound of tools striking the walls, and muffled chatter.

“Let’s hope they’re friendly,” Brendun said.

They moved forward, slower even than they had been moving before, and then a light appeared from around a corner, to their right.

“Alo,” Brendun whispered, “Can you peek around the corner and see what is there?”

Alo nodded her head and slid quietly ahead. Reaching behind her with one tentacle she placed the brand on the ground as she went.

[Terquem]

Part 14

Brendun held his breath as he watched Alo move silently forward. He watched the ground, taking note of the almost mechanical precision with which Alo moved each of the five tentacles she had on the ground one after another. She came to a stop, and Brendun shifted his eyes upward, taking in the almost human-like form of the octopus-girls body, concealed mostly as it was by her long cloak.

It still struck him as odd how many people were still confused about exactly how the octopus-folk were, well, to put it bluntly, arranged. Many times a poster, wanted posters most often, would appear around the port city identifying octopus-folk who were wanted for terrible crimes, and most of the time the charges were trumped up or even completely false, because blaming the silent, mysterious, unfriendly octopus-folk was the easiest thing to do, but those posters almost always got them wrong, and mostly no one cared how wrong the pictures were. The octopus-folk, or as Brendun had just learned from Alo, Mauli, as she called herself, were not even close to being like the water living creatures that most other folk associated with them, that is, actual octopuses. Alo had a body, not a human body exactly, but it was similar, and much smaller. The upper part of this body, what Brendun called her mantle, was shaped like the upper torso of a human, with no arms. Alo’s head, which was disproportionate to her body, but not grossly so, sat on a thick, short neck and when covered by the hood of her clock, in the shadows, could be taken for a regular person’s head, but with perhaps a full head of thick hair. Alo, of course, had no hair, and Brendun could not recall ever having seen any sort of octopus-folk with hair at all, even though some wanted posters drew hair on wanted octopus-folk, to make them look even more frightening. Brendun had no idea how the inside of a Mauli was arranged. He could not figure out where their stomach might actually be, because where the waist of a regular human folk started, on her, on Alo, this was where her legs began. Alo’s legs, or tentacles, were both arms and legs, and they were thick, flexible, and strong. She could raise as many as five of her tentacles into the air, he had seen her do it, and balance on just three, but he had been able to tell from watching her that she preferred to have five tentacles on the ground, leaving three for her to use as arms. If not for the tentacles, and the slightly larger head, Alo would be a slim, normal looking human girl. Getting to know her over the past few hours had told Brendun that indifference to what she looked like at all, in many ways, Alo was just like any other, frightened, but determined, human girl.

He hadn’t realized he had been thinking about her in such a far-off way, and when she appeared next to him, he was startled.

Alo spoke slowly. “It is a group of Turturons” she said in a whisper. “It looks like a working party. They are dressed for hard work and have tools for working the hard rock walls ahead. There are nine of them.”

“Turturons,” Brendun exhaled, “we are, indeed, in luck. I know a few of them, and I know that as folk go, they are usually not dangerous. Quick, let’s let them know we are here and see if they can help us find our way out.”

Alo retrieved the brand from the floor, sheathed her swords and lowering her height just a bit, drifted to the side to let Brendun take the lead.

Brendun moved ahead feeling the strain of carrying Tabitha beginning to take a toll on him. His legs burned and his back ached, but he was still a long, long way from giving out or giving in.

When they rounded the corner of the wall Brendun looked across the chamber ahead taking a moment to try and make eye contact with as many of the working Turturons as he could. His eyes fell on a fellow with muddy-brown hair, braided in a thick twist that was over his left shoulder and hanging down in front of him to his belt. Brendun smiled and sighed in relief. The turturon’s eyes grew large, and his head tilted back in surprise.

“Brendun Mark, Kud zok man, what are you doing down here?” the turturon said.

Turturons were another strange folk of the city. They were about the same height as common dwarves, and built thick like dwarves as well, but they were a reptilian race. Their arms and legs were stout and shorter than they should be for their size, and their skin was a thick, tough hide of small scales. Most Turturons were green or brown, but some were mottled in different colors of blue, green, brown or black. They had a shell on their backs, covering them from just above the shoulders to about mid-thigh, narrow, and rounded, with a slight flip upward near the edges. The shell and reptilian skin gave them the appearance of turtles, and that is where the name of their kind came from. Unlike the Mauli, or at least from what Brendun could tell from meeting Alo, Turturons did not mind the name, and he did not know if it was a name they called themselves originally or if it came to them some other way, but Turturons were not like Mauli, not like octopus-folk.

They were gregarious, often to a fault, hardworking folk who were well known for their knowledge in building, mining, and tool making crafts. Most Turturons were well employed in the city, and often worked for some of the major labor guilds. They did not tend to like being in positions of responsibility or leadership, but preferred humble jobs that kept them busy all workday long, and in their private lives they were quiet, reserved, and respectable.

Perhaps the thing most striking about Turturons was that their faces, which were almost human like in every way, were very much alike from individual to individual, making it hard to tell one turturon from another, by just their face alone, but Turturons had thick, course hair, often worn in braids, or tied in bundles on the tops of their heads. Each turturon took unique pride in the length, cut, and knot style of the hair on their head, and it was this feature that Brendun recognized right away when the fellow spoke his name.

“Thomas,” Brendun said to the fellow, “I am so glad it’s you. I’ll be quick about it my friend, I’m lost, and in trouble. Do any of you happen to be carrying any Stanley Clark’s Snat Oil Liniment? My friend here is in bad shape.”

It was about then that the rest of the Turturons, who had been working at the walls in the large chamber with picks and spades, noticed that Alo and Brendun, carrying Tabitha, had stumbled into their midst.

“Ah, what now?”

“Great Kud, is she alive?”

“Oh, the poor dear.”

The voices of some of the Turturons overran each other while they closed in around Brendun and began reaching out to help him lower Tabitha gently to the floor.

As soon as Brendun mentioned the need for liniment, half the Turturons in the group began searching through backs, some on others backs, some on the floor.
Thomas pushed through those of his friends near Brendun, to stand close to Tabitha. “Aye, she doesn’t look good. I hope we can help you, Master Mark, but I don’t think anyone brought anything like Stanley Clark’s with us. We might have some lanolin balm, or some tincture of willow bark, for aches and pains, but I don’t think we have anything stronger than that.”

“Anything, at this point, will help, Thomas,” Brendun said.

“Why are you down here?” Thomas asked, putting emphasis on his question.
“I was, I mean, we were along the sea wall, on the coast road, and got in this trapped wall situation that dumped us down here. Next thing I knew we were facing some toad-folk, and after that we ran afoul of another trap. That one injured my friend, Tabitha. Tell me Thomas, is there a way out of here, close by.”
“Oh, for sure and for certain lad. Here,” Thomas stepped to the side, and moved one of his friends out of the way with a gentle hand, “You see that wall over there, and the passageway at the end. That leads right away to a wide stair, a wooden stair, which leads up to the old Fauldor’s Hall.”

“Thank you, Thomas, thank you so much. We need to be on our way,” Brendun began as he took a knee in preparation of lifting Tabitha again. “Wait, did you say Fauldor’s Hall? The old secret gambling hall that was run by Dorn Fauldor? The one beneath the Bench Board tavern, on Ferry Way?”

“Aye, aye, that is the place. This fellow, some fellow by the name of Captain Terring I think, bought the Hall from old Lady Peabody, Dorn’s sister, and hired my crew to open these chambers. I had no idea the place stretched all the way out to the coast road, and toad-folk and traps you say. That’s going to be on the extras list for sure and for certain.”

Brendun turned to Alo, “How far is your friend from the Bench Board?”

“Alo moved out from the shadows behind Brendun, and said, “I don’t know. I don’t know the city. Tabitha did. I relied on her to get around and stay out of trouble.”

When Alo exposed herself to the curious eyes of the Turturons, their reaction caught her off guard.

End of Chapter 2

[Terquem]

Chapter 3
Part 15

Brendun carefully lifted Tabitha from the floor, ready to get moving up and out of this place as soon as possible when he saw the curious turturons moving in on Alo.

To her credit, she did not immediately react in a hostile way, but Brendun could tell the close little folk where making Alo nervous.

“Owww,”

“Ahhh,”

“Vervee,”

They made strange sounds as they gathered around her, and finally one of them, one young female with thick reddish hair in a tight braid worn pulled over her shoulder and hanging down across her ample chest, was the first to say anything else.


“You are, Nadin, or Thavin, yes? From the noble’s barge? You are one of the outcasts?” she said. Her voice was deep, and her words carried a tone of compassion.


Another among the turturons, an older man, standing behind the girl, pointed his arm from where he stood, indicating Alo’s forehead, “She has the brand of the untouchable.”


There were other sounds of sympathy, surprise, and curiosity from the turturons. Finally, as Brendun noticed Alo’s quivering, and the slight lifting of her sword arms, he had to ask his friend to put a stop to the curious, but not threatening behavior, before Alo lost control.


“Thomas, please, ask your people to give her some space. She is young, and inexperienced.”


Alo shifted in a slow slide to the side, away from the gathering little people, and came close to Brendun.


“I can speak for myself,” she said, speaking slow, loud, and clear. She turned in place, a graceful pirouette, bowed to the Turturons, and then rising, she lowered her arms, and said, “I am Mauli A’Anawa. This is where I was born. I am neither noble born nor of the warrior class, not a Nadin or a Thavin. I am the slave of the girl, the one this man carries. My name is Alo Tanas Gynemid, and I am not your enemy.”

Her words had a pronounced effect on the Turturons, who all took turns bowing, placing one hand against their forehead, and saying softly, “We welcome a friend of our people.”

Brendun leaned toward Alo and whispered, “Well done,” and then turned away, toward Thomas and said, “Thank you, we’ll be on our way now.”

“When you get to the stairs,” Thomas said from behind Brendun, “be careful. We’ve set up some planks on the steps, on the right-hand side, to make it easier to get the wheelbarrows up and down here. Good luck Brendun Mark.”

Alo followed Brendun as he walked away from the turturons. It was only when they reached the bottom of the stairs going up, back into the city, back to where they might get the help they needed that Alo said, quite innocently to Brendun, “what do you think she meant by ‘the noble’s barge’?”

Brendun had to stop. He thought about the question for a moment. He tried to imagine what that simple comment could mean, but it couldn’t mean what he thought it meant. There had not been an octopus-folk barge in the harbor, here, in fifteen years, and when that happened it almost started a panic that nearly emptied a third of the city. It couldn’t be happening again. Twice he opened his mouth to say something to Alo, anything that might answer her question, but he couldn’t put the words together in his head. It would have to wait, “I don’t know,” he said at last, and keeping to the left of the stairs, Brendun began the long climb up to the cellar of the Bench Board tavern.

As they climbed Brendun decided it was time to find out what ally Alo had in the city.

“Once we reach the old hall below the tavern, we’ll make Tabitha as comfortable as we can, you tell me who you can trust in Greenwall, and how to get to them, and I’ll go fetch help. I’ll want you to stay in the hall, for now, until I know it’s safe to enter the tavern without drawing too much attention to you.”

“Iah don’thha knowww wahhere he isah,” alo said from behind him.

Brendun stopped on the stairs, turned his body around and said, “You said you knew the way. Tell me slowly what you mean. Do you know where your ally is or not?”

For the first time Brendun registered a slight bit of frustration from Alo. She let out a strong breath, which lifted the skin on her face toward her neck, and then said, very slowly, “I could take us there. I remember the landmarks, but I do not know what they are named. If I tried to describe them to you I could very easily get it wrong.”

She straightened up, moved another step closer to Brendun and putting her face near his she looked right into his eyes. Her mouth flap lifted at the corners in what could only be a smile, and in a very different sort of way, her voice going up an octave with a bit of laughter dancing around each word, she said, “You will just have to trust me, and I will lead us there.”

Alo, with her impressive agility, and mobility, moved up on to the planks on the right side of the stairs, all the while keeping her face toward Brendun, and then moving each arm quickly she went around him until she was above him, then turned her whole body around and started quickly up the stairs again.

He watched her progress, and after checking on Tabitha one more time, headed after Alo as quickly as he could, thinking to himself, “I haven’t died, yet, maybe I’ll survive a walk, at night, through Greenwall, with an octopus, seems like it’ll be a piece of cake.”

[Terquem]

Part 16

They reached the basement of the old Bench Board tavern. The basement had once been a gambling hall but it had fallen into disrepair after one of the previous owners of the tavern failed to license the place properly. In his youth Brendun had been a runner for the hall. He could still remember the smell of the Hall Boss, Gurd Oventroh, a cantankerous old half orc fellow from the eastern counties, somewhere beyond the White Mountain. Mister Oventroh would take anything of value from patrons wanting to gamble on games of cards, dice, or spinning wheels and it was Brendun’s job to run those items upstairs to the tavern owner to be exchanged for cash. You see, Mr. Oventroh didn’t like having to keep piles of junk in the Hall. He always told Brendun he liked to keep the place clean, orderly, and professionally presentable.

The old Hall was a mess.

Low sided wooden boxes were all over the place, filled with tools, buckets of hardware, nails, hinges, and plates of iron, as well as pallets of flat, large stones, used to shore up the walls below, no doubt whenever places where discovered that the natural stone was not solid enough. There were tarps lying along the walls with small open sacks sitting haphazardly near them or on them, personal belongings were scattered from the sacks here and there, while some of the tarps had small rolls of bread and plates with half eaten apples, and the rinds of ripe melons. The turturons had turned this place into a combination storage room living quarters for the project they had been hired to complete.

He went to one of the tarps, one that was cleaner than most of the others and laid Tabitha down. He found an empty sack nearby, rolled it up and placed it carefully under Tabitha’s head. Brendun put his hand on her check. It was cool, but not cold. Tabitha was still alive.

“Look,” he said to Alo who stayed close by him all the while, “I’m going to go up and see what the crowd is like in the tavern. If we’re lucky there will still be enough of a crowd that we can sneak out, but if we aren’t lucky, if it is well past sunrise, then it might be a bit harder to get out of here without drawing attention to ourselves. I sort of lost track of the time, a while ago, so I’m not holding out hope for us being on the lucky side of things yet again.”

“I’ll stay with Tabitha until you return,” Alo said slowly.

The stairs to the tavern were located at the corner of the large room and Brendun, relieved of the weight of carrying Tabitha, hurried up them taking several steps at a time.

The door at the top of the stairs, if he remembered and if the tavern owner hadn’t changed the floor around too much, should open into the kitchen, which was long and narrow. Both the stairs to the hall and the main tavern room itself were located at one narrow end of the kitchen, in opposite corners. He had no way of knowing how many of the kitchen help might be working, but if he were quick and quiet he could easily slip by and have a look out into the common room.

When he reached the door Brendun could hear the busywork of several people and he could smell the distinct aroma of yeast, and rising loaves of bread. This immediately put him in a foul mood.

It was early, probably at least an hour before sunrise, and that meant the tavern would most likely be close to empty. On the one hand, those that might be hanging around might be too drunk to notice anything, but on the other hand, anyone not too drunk to notice anything were sure to notice them, if they tried to pass. He had to think of a solution, but for now he pressed on with his plan to at least check the room out.

Brendun cracked the door to the kitchen and saw three portly men hard at work. The men were chatting to each other and they were not facing the door. Moving fast, Brendun slipped through the door leaving it open only just slightly and dashed across the short end of the kitchen until he was standing a step well into the tavern’s main room.

The room was packed, wall to wall, with people. It was a shock to him, not just because there were so many people here in the wee hours of the morning, but also because he could tell that something was not right.

All through the crowded room people were grouped close together, either sitting at tables, packed all around with folks leaning in intently and speaking softly, or against the walls in smaller groups, their heads held close together. No one seemed to notice his arrival from the kitchen, and instead of heading back immediately Brendun drifted to his right slowly trying to pick out conversations he could overhear, trying to find out what was going on. As he came up along the side of four middle aged women, each holding a wooden wine cup, he tried to look away from them, give them the idea he had not noticed them, hoping they would take no notice of him either. He fixed his gaze across the room, at no one in particular. The crowd in front of him parted, as people moved with deliberate hesitation from one spot of talk to another, and there, sitting in a booth, he saw them.

Four robed and hooded man like creatures, of the sort that he could not help but recognize as octopus-folk, were sitting, each apart from the one another, not engaging among themselves or with anyone else, just sitting, alone, but together, and this was not right.

It did explain, somewhat, the behavior of the crowd, but at the same time it did not. The octopus-folk at that table were not going out of their way to keep a low profile, hell, they were sitting in a tavern for Gluf’s sake, a well-lit, well established, popular tavern. Why and more importantly how, was all that Brendun could think

[Terquem]

Part 17

A group of seven or eight men and women, including a couple of dwarves, moved in front of and toward him. Brendun turned his eyes away and down and let the group pass by as an excuse to be moved further to the right and up against a heavy wooden column supporting the ceiling over him. He rolled around the column, casually, until he was right against the corner of a table in another booth. This table was crowded with at least a dozen folk. The people in the booth were quiet, intently listening to a young man Brendun recognized as Willian Paldor, an apprentice to Simon Drandury, the grocer who kept the market stalls at Garden Street and Fountain Row.

Brendun, appearing to be just another citizen of Greenwal, leaned onto the table to better hear what Willian was saying.

“And then when the harbor master was escorted to the citadel,” Willian was speaking quietly, but there was a note of excitement in every word he said, “captain Juel of the merchant district watch went out to that ship and spoke to them octopuses herself. She’s the sister of my master’s wife, don’t you know, and well, master Drandury sent me right away from the shop to tell his wife what he had heard from the first mate of the old Kerrytown ferry. My master’s wife, Elizabeth, she drags me by the ears back to the number nine pier and from there we watched all night for her sister to return. I saw it myself I tell you, I was right there when it happened. The captain returns on the pinnace with that octopus noblewoman, and her whole retinue. Two dozen of them, I counted. Half of them went right to the citadel with the captain, and the others moved out into the city. They were unarmed, and I know those four in the corner were among them. The captain was telling everyone to spread the word that no harm was to come to them, and that they were under the governor’s protection, carrying a message for the queen herself, they were, something awfully important, and if you ask me, not good news at all.”

A short, elderly man, who Brandun did not know, leaned across the table and asked Willian, “How many are out there on that ship, you reckon?”

A dark dressed woman at the far corner of the table leaned forward slowly, and her eyes were up, looking directly at Brendun. At first, he thought he knew her, by the shape of her chin and her thick eyebrows, but when she spoke her voice was not familiar. She looked at Brendun, never taking her eyes off him, but she spoke to the group at the table. She spoke in a husky voice for such a small woman and Brendun was sure, by the voice he knew he would have recognized if he had ever heard it before, that he did not know her.

“I was told by the pilot of the Sarah Jan, that there are over two hundred of their kind aboard that ship. They are wanderers among their own kind, outcast, merchants who trade for their survival with only other ships at sea. That they came into our city, our port, can only mean one thing. They are in need of something that they cannot get anywhere else. I believe they are lying about having a message for the queen and are only here long enough to get what they want. We all remember the last time one of their ships dropped anchor here.”

Her words were filled with malice, malice and fear.

Brendun was only twelve the last time an octopus-folk ship sailed into Greenwall. There were riots in the streets near the harbor then, as many of the octopus folk from the ship tried to enter the city illegally. He was too young to know the truth at the time, but he had been told by some of the adults he knew that the octopus-folk who were trying to get into the city were all criminals, and that the ship was a prison at sea. His mother had told him, before she died, that she thought she had heard the octopus-folk were escaping from a slave fleet, and that they only wanted to get to somewhere where they could live alone, among themselves, peacefully. Whatever the actual story was, was the story his mother had told him, but when many of the most dangerous of that kind of folk slipped into Greenwall’s shadowy and more lawless places just the same. He would always remember the wanted posters for “Greg-Half-Eye” and “Jack Nine arms” two of the most notorious murderers Greenwall had ever known. Both were convicted of their crimes, both were hanged by the neck until dead. Which, for their kind took a long, long time. Brendun avoided the Jury Quay for six weeks when he was fourteen, because he heard their bodies were still quivering in the gallows there that summer.

[Terquem]

Part 18

Lost in his thoughts for a moment, Brendun had missed something else the woman in the corner was saying, but he already surmised that he had stayed in the room too long. He was beginning to get that familiar tingle in the neck, when the hair begins to get stiff and he was sure that if he did not get moving again someone here was going to recognize him.

There were just too many people in the tavern for the odds to be in his favor. He knew it. It was just another bit of good luck that the person who did recognize him was someone he knew he could trust. Kenneth Fraddle.

Kenneth was a few years older than Brendun. When Brendun first travelled to the capital to take a run at the dungeon tests, Kenneth was a regular guard in the Counting House of the Queen’s Sheriff at Millton, the city north of Bayfield, the very northern border of the kingdom itself, where the many wind driven mills were built to grind all the wheat brought into the city on the Queen’s ships and keep the waters of the bay beyond the dykes of the city.

Greenwall, was on the western coast of the Hakkru peninsula, on the Bayfield Sound. It was connected to, but south of the city of Bayfield and it was a city of rain and almost constant winds. The soil was dark in the fields east of the city, but there the farmers grew wine crops, fruits, and rare nuts. Wheat came from the south and west. South of Greenwall you crossed the Bay of Norr, while to the west of Greenwall and Bayfield, across the sea, you would be in the City States of Leran, a place ruled by tyrants and thieves.

Keep going south and east from the city of Norral, in the Bay of Norr, and eventually you would be in Acklaj, the capital city of the kingdom of Kijzta, and the palaces of the Queen of the House of Korr and her family. It was there that Brendyn had taken the dungeon test of the Queen. It was said the dungeon test were modeled after the first kind of these tests in a kingdom far to the east, farther than Brendun had ever dared travel, in a land of dry desert sands and fierce nomadic tribes. Greewall was about as far north and distant from the capital of Kijzta as a place could get, but even here the Queen of the House of Korr kept track of everything and everyone coming and going across the Sea of Ses Elran, whether they were her subjects or not, and the Queen had been keeping her eye on Kenny for a long time. That was how the queen came to know Brendun.

The dungeon tests had been set up long before Brendun was born. The architects, engineers, and wizards of the House of Korr had chosen the ruins of the old Lavinar Abbey as the place to construct the special chambers, traps, and battle rooms for the dungeon test in Acklaj. By the time Brendun was old enough to be allowed to take the tests, rumors were that the dungeon tests had passed four hundred ninety-seven and killed two hundred twelve. As a young man of seventeen, Brendun was stronger than most, agile, and quick minded. He entered the dungeon test with two friends. All three of them survived. His friends, Roger and Fran, were sent west to join the Queen’s Darrls in Fasminir, Brendun was selected to go to Bayfield and joined the Door Guards in the counting house of Millton. His first assignment was as Kenneth’s Dogsbody. Kenneth, on the day Brendun was assigned to the Counting House, had been promoted to Captain.

Three weeks, and several unbearably dull assignments later, Kenneth was dishonorably discharged from his post, opening an officer’s position in the Counting House for Brendun to take. You see, Kenneth was a hard man, a brave man, and a handsome man, but he was not a smart man. Kenneth liked women, wine, and betting on horse races. He had enough sense to choose fine wines, and usually picked the right horse in any race, but the women he chased, well, that is where Kenneth’s failings came to the surface and after a disastrous breakup with a tool master-maker’s wife, Kenneth was no longer a favorite of the Queen.

Brendun moved up to Second Lieutenant, when Gabrielle Dolon took the Captain’s office. And Kenneth? Well, Kenneth moved to Greenwall, after all, even if he wasn’t all that a Queen’s Man should be, he still had his good looks, his winnings from the ponies, and even now, more than ten years since that time, he still had his strength.

A large, clean, and well-manicured, hand appeared out of nowhere below Brendun’s chin, took his shirt in a tight grip and pulled Brendun away from the table. He didn’t dare reach for the knife tucked in his belt, for fear of drawing attention to the scene, but let himself be dragged quickly away from the table. The crowd was so thick that at first Brendun didn’t get a good look at the man who was rough handling him. He could only tell that the man was tall, broad shouldered, and had long dark brown hair under a wide, fancy, brown, felt, three-cornered hat.

He was suddenly spun to the left and forced against a section of the tavern wall between two windows, the only clear spot around, and that was when Kenneth’s smiling face, ice blue eyes, and large front teeth came into Brendun’s view.

“Kenny!” Brendun said with joy.

“Dun-man, my boy, what the hell are you doing here,” Kenneth’s words came fast, and he sounded troubled.

[Terquem]

Part 19

“What are you talking about? Kenny, please, I don’t have time for one of your little games. Let go of me,” Brendun whispered back.

“This is no game Mark! Whoever it is that put a price on your head is very good at keeping secrets. Secrets even my old friends in the militia don’t know anything about. Damn it, Dun-man what the hell has that enormous brain of yours gone and discovered now? Is it a working portal to the Neverfields of Loon, the secrets of Odalabar, the location of the Eight Crossed paths? Whatever it is and I swear I warned you about this, years ago, you have made enemies, serious enemies. Now are you coming with me or do I have to drag you out of here unconscious over my shoulder,” Kenny said.

Unconscious! The word hit Brendum like a cold slap in the face. Tabitha was dying, if not at death’s door already.

“Look, captain, please, I need help. I have two friends in the hall below the kitchen, do you know it?” Brendun asked as he relaxed his hands.

Kenny nodded.

“Alright then, two friends, one is in a real bad way,” Brendun went on, “she took a cut across her back and nearly bled to death, but I think I was able to save her in time. She is unconscious, barely hanging on as we speak. I need you to help me get them both out of here without drawing too much attention to us.”

Kenny dropped Brendun and turned to face the kitchen at the back of the tavern, “Right,” he said with the conviction of a well-trained soldier, “lead the way. I’ll be watching our back, but I’ll be close behind you, move.”

Brendun followed Kenny’s order as if not a single day had passed since the last time he had to shine his captain’s saddle. He moved quickly, but not so quickly that he seemed out of place in the busy tavern, and Kenny followed just one step behind. As they moved, Brendun’s focus was straight ahead, while Kenny swept the room from side to side looking for any sign of trouble. People in the tavern were deep in conversations, but here and there a face would move toward them. Eyes would glance their way, and then look away. Brendun could sense the room taking notice of their passing but took comfort in knowing that anyone seeing the old captain knew better than to get into his business.

They made it through the kitchen and then the door to the stairs without the cooks taking notice, and then Brendun quickened his pace, flying down the stairs, calling out behind him in the dim shadow, “There are boards here on the left, be careful, stay on the right going down.” The light of the brand could be seen glowing below and in moments the two men were in the old hall.

Alo was bent over Tabitha, and with her back to them and Brendun knew Kenny would not be able to tell what sort of being she was right away.

“Alo,” Brendun shouted, “I’ve brought help. Kenny, there, on the floor, my friend, please be careful. If you can carry her the other one and I will move a little way behind you. I don’t think anyone will give you any trouble and the two of us need to stay hidden from as many eyes as possible.”

Brendun was quick at planning, and he knew Kenny would trust his plan. What he wasn’t prepared for was Kenny’s reaction when Alo stood up and turned around.

“What the hell is she doing here,” the big man growled as he drew a long knife from a scabbard on his belt.

“I don’t have time to explain. Please Kenny, you have to trust me.”

“I trust you, Dun-man, with my life, but you better talk fast, or your friend,” Kenny said with a sneer, “may be in worse shape than the furry one soon enough.”

“Her name is Alo. She is a friend of Tabitha’s. I am doing her a favor. Is that good enough?”

“Tabitha,” the big man said in surprise. “The Tabitha,” he put away the knife and walked quickly to where Tabitha lie on the floor. With a swift clean motion he scooped the small girl off of the ground and turned, “this is the one and only Tabitha, and that eight-legged freak is her friend, and you are helping them.” Kenny shook his head vigorously from side to side. “I don’t even want to ask what sort of a mess you are in Dun-man, but if you are helping Tabitha and one of them folk from the barge, I know you are in too far to ever see the light at the end of the tunnel.”

“Thhea bahhrge, ahaghain whithhha bahhrge,” Alo began speaking and then quickly slowed her words when Brendun shot her an angry glance. “The barge,” Alo said slowly now. “What is the meaning of that?”


“Alright, I know we don’t have a lot of time,” Brendun said walking toward Alo, “but I’ll tell you what I saw above and what is going on. But I’ll tell you as we go. Just make sure you are well covered by your garments and keep your head low and your cowl pulled completely over your head. I don’t want anyone to see you.”

“Why are you worried?” Kenny asked. “The folk from the barge are being allowed to walk all over the city, free from harm, under the governor’s protection. She should be fine.”

Now things started to get confusing for Brendun. The appearance of the other octopus-folk meant there was a chance Alo was not telling the truth, that her whole story was a lie. He didn’t want to be true, but the fact that her kind were not known for their honesty whenever dealing with humans or others meant he was overwhelmed with an urgent sense of doubt.

Moving slowly, so as to not startle either of them, Brendun moved around and behind Alo, and then swiftly put his arm around her neck, squeezing tight just below her mouth flap, and with his free hand he took one of her tentacles in a soft grip.

“Alo, I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if you are lying to me. Did you come here on a barge recently? I need the truth.”

She moved so fast that Brendun was almost unable to see how she moved at all. In an instant she was free from his grip and at least a full step away from him, but even though she had gained an advantage she did not draw weapons. Her Tentacles came up in a sign of surrender, and her voice came slow and pleading. “I know of no barge. I came here with her. I am telling you the truth. I am not like my kind. I know you have reasons not to trust me. I don’t ask for your trust. I ask for you to trust her. You loved her once. She loves you still. I need the both of you.”

“Well, I’ll be go to hell in a painted coach,” Kenny said. “I’ve seen enough to regret my choices already, but damn if that ain’t the stuff. This Tabitha, I really am sorry I never got to know her. She seems to have the power to disarm the smartest and craftiest of people. She must be hell in the sack.”

At the same time, and with the same sound of lost opportunities, Alo and Brendun both said, “She is.”