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  Nath unslung his small pack from his shoulders and took a knee. It was the same pack he’d left Dragon Home with that carried his items. The rich red-brown leather woven with unusual zigzag patterns was soft to the touch as he opened up the flap. He was glad to have the pack back. He took out Winzee’s Lantern of Revealing, the bull’s-eye lantern that fit in the palm of his hand. “This might help find another way in. I have a couple potions in here that we can try too,” he said as his fingers rummaged through the pack. He held up three potion vials. One was half empty. It was the one he had used to heal Darkken’s forearm. “See, we have options.”

  “I see two healing potions, but what does the other one do? The orange one?” Darkken asked.

  Nath shook the orange liquid. It sparkled inside the clear glass vial. “I’m not sure. Father never told me. Perhaps I should take a sip.”

  “Let’s just wait until we get a little closer. We don’t want to waste any resources if we don’t need to. Anyway, if we put our minds together, I’m certain that we will figure something out. Tell me more about what you know.”

  “There are over two hundred slavers who guard the city. The outer wall is made from great cedar trees that look like they were pounded into the ground by giants.” Nath put the items back in his pack and strapped it over his back. “Guard towers over thirty feet high surround the city. They will see anything coming. Believe me. The Slave Lords, whoever they are, guard it like a fort.”

  “The slave trade is big business. Certain people are worth more than their weight in gold. I’ve never trifled with the Slave Lords. In a way, they are like the Caligin, running covert operations in the darkness that the wealthy people do not care to talk about. That’s why they stay to the south, where you have to go out of your way to get there. That way, people can act like such oppression does not exist, even though they all benefit from it, one way or another.”

  “It’s a sick thing to do to people,” Nath said, grinding his teeth. “We should free them all.”

  “Well, I agree, but that would take an army, and we don’t have one.”

  “Shouldn’t the other kingdoms do something about this?” Nath asked.

  “Yes, they should, but the problem is, the other kingdoms are benefiting from the works of the Slave Lords too.”

  CHAPTER 19

  It was another sweltering morning inside the timber walls of Slaver Town. The hot sun beat down on the rooftops. The slaves trudged over the mud-packed streets from working station to working station. The sound of hammers beating on the rocks in the quarry echoed out of the chasm and across the streets. The slaves, one and all, some shackled in heavy irons and others shackled by broken spirits, kept their heads down as the orc guards drove another line of slaves out of the Barn.

  Calypsa the dryad’s own cell was on the main floor. It was nothing more than a cage made for a large dog. Everyone could see her. That included the guards and the prisoners. All day and through the night, the vilest of prisoners would catcall at her. They would howl like wolves and make kissing sounds. She would ball up underneath her tattered blanket the best she could, hoping it would all end.

  The half dryad with sun-browned skin and thick locks of flowing brown hair peeked out from underneath her blanket. A pair of orc guards stood outside her cage, watching the slaves being taken outside. One of the slaves was the bugbear, Rond. The four-armed monster had a host of guards carrying spears around him. Rond’s eyes were downcast. His shoulders drooped. He had scars from being whipped all over his broad chest and back. Calypsa pressed her face to the bars. She wanted to call out to her shackled friend. Rond, however, kept going. He didn’t even look her way.

  A tear fell. She wiped her eye, sniffled, and curled back underneath her blanket.

  “Ay, pretty one.” One of the orc guards rapped on her cage with his fist. The orc was an ugly brute. They all were, with coarse black hair and broad, flat, sweaty noses with big nostrils that seemed abnormal. They all wore black tunics over chainmail armor. “Get out from under that sheet. It’s time for you to stretch those pretty little legs of yours.”

  The guards sniggered.

  The cage door was unlocked, and with a creak, the guard opened it. This was the part of the day that Calypsa dreaded most. The guards poked and pawed at her all the time, but according to them, it was all unintentional. On hands and knees, she crawled out of the cage and came to her feet.

  The guards crowded her. “You won’t be needing this.” The orc who spoke earlier tore the blanket from her body and tossed it into the cage. “That’s better. I don’t want you getting too hot.” His eyes dressed her up and down.

  Calypsa’s clothing was changed to something more pleasing to the guard’s eyes. She wore a snug one-piece dress woven from white cotton. It had a plunging neckline and covered the tops of her thighs. It was made for attractive women who were sold on the slave block. She would do just about anything to be someone else’s slave right now.

  “That’s better,” the guard said, placing his hand on her hip.

  “Get your filthy hands off of me, pigface!” She pushed the orc in the chest.

  The orc grabbed the chains attached to her wrists and slung her across the floor. She skidded off her knees and came to a halt on the dirt floor. Not having full range of motion prohibited her from using her magic. She needed to be unfettered, but the iron made it worse. It was the one metal that tampered with her powers. She wasn’t sure if the guards knew that or if it was an unfortunate coincidence, but it presented a serious problem that she hadn’t been able to wriggle out of. Even if she could, she swore she wouldn’t leave Rond behind.

  Another orc guard pulled her up by the hair and shoved her forward. Fully bearded, the orc studied her with hungry green eyes. “Stretch those legs, pretty thing. We like to see you walk.”

  She made a few laps inside the Barn, taking her time, scanning her surroundings. Her steps were short, thanks to the shackles. She rubbed her aching lower back, passing the warden’s office, where two more guards were hanging outside the door. One of them blew a kiss at her. She kept walking, circling back to her cage. Stomach growling, she said, “I would like to eat now.”

  “You would, would you? And what is in it for me?” the orc guard said as he picked at his chin with yellow fingernails. “A kiss?”

  “Sure, just pucker up your lips,” she replied.

  The orc tucked his chin into his neck. “Don’t play me for a fool. You split me lip the last time you said that.”

  “And yet, you ask again? I would have thought that you learned your lesson.” Stupid orcs! She refrained from saying it out loud but only because she was hungry and determined to keep her strength. She walked up to the orc, rose up on her tiptoes, and said in a sweeter voice, “Can I please have my breakfast? I don’t want any trouble. I just want to eat.”

  “Fine. You will eat. Fetch Homer! Tell him to bring a bowl to this hungry witch.”

  The bearded orc vanished behind the curtain wall that concealed the cages where Nath was once imprisoned. The orc pushed the curtain back open. Homer came out with a bowl in hand. He walked with a limp. His clothing was frayed and tattered. His graying locks hung in his eyes. Homer had the light duty of preparing food for the prisoners and cleaning up after them. He approached the orcs and Calypsa with his head down and held out the bowl with shaking hands. “Breakfast,” he said.

  They’d gone through the same routine for over two weeks. They woke her up, harassed her, and made her beg for breakfast before finally letting her eat. It was humiliating. As a woman, she shouldn’t be in the Barn. The other female slaves were kept in another section of the city, with lighter security. She’d basically been thrown to the wolves. Calypsa looked at the senior guard. “Permission to eat?”

  The orc rolled his neck and, with a grunt, finally said, “Make it quick.”

  “Good morning, Homer,” she said, eyeing the rickety-limbed man as she took the bowl. “I hope this morning finds you well.”


  With a bit of a stammer, Homer replied, “We are fortunate to have such loving masters. Enjoy, Calypsa, enjoy.”

  She sat down and leaned her back against the cage. Using two fingers like a spoon, she ate the soggy oats. There was a touch of cinnamon and sugar that gave it flavor. It was a little something that Homer did for her. The act of kindness helped get her through the days and long nights.

  CHAPTER 20

  It was midday when Nath and company hoofed it on foot to a rocky bluff that overlooked Slaver Town. The fort city was miles away, tiny and harmless, surrounded by a backdrop of woodland. Maefon stood beside Darkken, who had a spyglass to his eye. Nath and Hacksaw stood side by side with four Brothers of the Wind on bended knee in front of them. The others stayed back with the horses and wagon.

  “It’s quite a fortress,” Darkken said, slowly turning his neck. “On the back end, I can see that stream you are talking about crossing through. At night, that might make for a possible way in.”

  “We should be able to make a search at night,” Nath said, his arms crossed over his chest. He scratched his elbows. He kept seeing the faces of Foster and the other slavers. It jangled his senses. “We should go in a small number, though. Two to slip in and two to look out.”

  “It’s bare as a baby’s bottom along those cedar walls,” Darkken replied. “And I can see patrols and dogs running along the rim. I’m not sure about the back side, but if the slaver lords reside there, as you said, I’m certain it’s much more heavily guarded than what we see.”

  Hacksaw marched over to Darkken and held out his hand. “May I?”

  “Certainly. Your tactical input will be as valued as it is needed.” Darkken handed Hacksaw the spyglass. “If the image is blurry, you may need to twist—”

  “I know how to use a spyglass.” Hacksaw put the spyglass to his eye and in his throat made low, guttural words. “Hmmmm. Hmmmm. Hmmmm.” Finally, he said, “In a situation such as this, I’d prefer to have an army and lay siege upon the enemy. But with captives inside, they have the full advantage.” He swung the spyglass to the left. “Not to mention, they do have a lot of patrols. Nath, you haven’t been gone so long, so I imagine that they are still looking for you.”

  “True, but the last place they would expect me is back inside,” Nath replied. “Maybe we could use another polymorph potion, if you have one at your disposal, and go inside under disguise.”

  “A wise idea, but sadly, we’ve used up what we had.” Darkken rubbed his chin. “But you have given me a very grand idea that I think will work well.”

  Collapsing the spyglass, Hacksaw said, “I’m all ears.”

  “Me too,” Nath said.

  “It’s very simple. Myself and Maefon will pose as customers, looking to buy a slave.”

  “Ha!” Hacksaw laughed. “No one is going to believe that an elf is going to buy slaves. That’s absurd.”

  “True. Sorry, but I got ahead of myself. Maefon is not a good choice.” Darkken patted her on the backside. “Don’t take that literally, sweetie. Hacksaw and I can be the buyers. We’ll take the wagon, the two of us, flash some gold, and we will be the buyers. If you are not comfortable with that, Hacksaw, I’ll risk it myself. What do you say, old knight? Me and you?”

  Hacksaw rubbed his chin. “I don’t know. Being a knight, it’s not going to be easy to go in there and be convincing. I’m one to defend the oppressed. I’m liable to explode in close quarters with those orcs. I doubt I can be very convincing. I hate to admit it, but I might pose a greater risk.”

  “I wish that I could go,” Nath said. “That would be so easy. If I could just turn into something else. Are you sure there isn’t any more of the polymorph potion left?”

  Maefon took a vial of liquid out of her clothing. It was the same bottle Nath drank from before. She shook the contents. “To correct Darkken, there is a little bit left but not enough to have staying power. This smidgen might not last an hour, and you would need more time than that.”

  “I see,” Nath said.

  Darkken offered a smile. “Listen, everyone, this is a team effort. We don’t have to try it this way. As Nath stated, we’ll find a way in and locate Nath’s friends. The risk is higher, but we are committed to whatever you decide, Nath.”

  Nath looked down at Slaver Town. The last thing he wanted to do was get anyone else in harm’s way. And Darkken’s hand was a good one. “Darkken, let’s try it your way.”

  CHAPTER 21

  From the same bluff where Nath and the group spoke earlier, he watched the road down in the valley that led into Slaver Town. Maefon stood hip to hip with him with her arm around his waist. Her eyes were fixed on the wagon, pulled by two horses, and the man driving it.

  “He’s so tiny,” she said. “All of it is. One really gets a different perspective from a higher point of view, don’t they?”

  “Huh?” Nath had been lost in thought since Darkken left. The older man had been very convincing, and Nath had faith in his decision, but his fingertips still tingled. “Oh yes, it’s different. When I rode on my father’s back, sailing through the skies, I always viewed the world as something so tiny and simple. But it becomes really complicated when you are on the ground level.”

  Maefon’s arm tightened around his waist. Her small face leaned on the side of his chest. “I always thought that when I was a Trahaydeen that I would get to fly on a dragon one day. I was very disappointed when I found out it would never happen, though the histories said that elves and men had flown on the backs of dragons in times past. I secretly hoped you would become a dragon and be able to take me for a ride.”

  “Yes, well, I had the same aspirations.”

  Darkken led the wagon up to the front of the main gate of Slaver Town. He was surrounded by several guards. An exchange of words went back and forth between Darkken and the orcs. They’d been watching the comings and goings of Slaver Town for over a day, and there was slow but routine traffic. A large part of it was slaver patrols on horseback that guarded the perimeter. There were supply wagons and customers who bought, sold, and traded in some cases teams of slaves.

  Hacksaw had the spyglass to his eye. “Darkken doesn’t seem to be having too hard a time chatting the orcs up. Does he speak Orcen?”

  “He speaks many languages,” Maefon said, “so I’d imagine that he’d use it with them.”

  “I’m glad I didn’t go. I can’t stand the sight or sound of orcs. They are so pushy and foul,” Hacksaw said. “I really don’t know how you survived them, Nath.”

  “He’s tough.” Maefon smiled up at Nath. “He can survive anything.”

  Nath rested his hand on Maefon’s shoulder. “I don’t know about that. Anyway, I just hope Darkken knows what he is doing. The last thing I want to happen is for him to wind up as a prisoner there. Then we’ll have four to rescue instead of three.” He sighed. “I hate standing here and waiting.”

  “They’re taking his sword belt,” Hacksaw said. “Ugh, nothing worse than being without your blade. It always made me feel naked when I was younger. When you’re on the trail, you sleep with your steel. I got used to it. Even after I retired, I still slept with my sword for over a decade. Finally, my mom convinced me to hang Green Tongue over the mantel. I bet when I return, I end up sleeping with it again.”

  Nath and Maefon chuckled. Four of the Brothers of the Wind were kneeling nearby, stoic and silent, without the slightest expression on their faces. All of their eyes were fixed on the road. The other two elves of the group were gone, out on patrol, keeping tabs on the slavers who patrolled the nearby hills.

  “He’s going in,” Hacksaw said.

  The wooden doors that led into the city were opened halfway. Escorted by two orcs, Darkken, still sitting in his wagon, followed them inside. As he crossed the threshold, he turned his head slightly and gave a subtle nod. He vanished inside, and the doors were closed behind him.

  “He gave a nod,” Nath said, breathing a little easier. “That’s the sign he promised that a
ll was well.” He could still see over parts of the wall from their elevated location, but as tall as it was, it obscured most of their view. Many walls and buildings made borders through the city. Some of it protected the Slave Lords from the slaves. There were even trees that shielded the slave town from outside prying eyes.

  “Nath, why don’t we go for a little walk?” Maefon said. “Darkken is liable to be in there for a few days.”

  “A few days. Yes, well, I wasn’t very comfortable with him saying that. It shouldn’t take that long for him to figure out where Calypsa and Rond are.”

  Maefon held his hands. “They aren’t going to just divulge that information willingly. Darkken is going to do business, and he’ll need to win the slaver lords over. Don’t worry, when Darkken flashes your treasure from Dragon Home you gave him, they will become very agreeable. They’ll start talking and showing off their prized possessions. But don’t suppose they will drop away from their busy plans for him. It’s a business.”

  “I suppose you are right, but I don’t think I can wait several days. I just wish we could go in there and take them all out.” Nath pulled his hand free from hers. It fell to his sword. “If I become the dragon king one day, I swear, I’m going to wipe this place out.”

  “I believe you,” she said, “but for the time being, let’s focus on recovering your friends. Come on now. Let’s walk and talk. You spent more time talking to Darkken on our journey than talking to me. I was jealous. But now, I have you to myself, and I want to take advantage of it.”

  Nath cast a final look at Slaver Town. “Fine. Lead the way. I know Hacksaw will keep an eye on things.”

  “Aye,” Hacksaw said. He’d started puffing on his pipe. “You walk. I’m going to enjoy the warmth of the south.”

  The four Brothers of the Wind stood up suddenly and turned to face the wood line at their backs. Nath caught a stir in the forest. The other two Brothers of the Wind appeared. One of the two approached Maefon and whispered in her ear. She gasped. “A slaver patrol comes our way.”

 

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