Arka's Return 2: The Tower

[Arka]

The boulder crashed into the ground and ran up against a high fence below. There was a loud boom and the sound of splintering wood. Sudisir looked up from the path below. He saw the two figures clinging to the rock face and immediately recognised Arka. Then another figure caught his eye. At the top of the cliff, silhouetted against the faint light of the night sky was another elf. Sudisir stiffened. No! No one else would be allowed to harm her. She was his! He was torn between wanting revenge on the elf who had done this, and wanting Arka dead. He watched, fascinated as the elf started to roll another boulder toward the edge. It was a long way away but he thought he might just be able to manage it. Taking the Red Glyph from its pouch he focused his mind on the shadow at the top of the cliff. The Glyph glowed red then released a ball of fire. The elf was blown off his feet and the boulder ran away harmlessly.

Sudisir staggered. That had taken all his strength. He had nothing left to take out the Fenki. He had no potions with him, nothing to revive him. He had no option but to hide himself and watch the two figures edging along the rock face.

The fireball had taken Arka by complete surprise and she had nearly slipped. Blinded by the light she could see nothing but the yellow afterglow burnt onto her retinas. Zorbels, whose eyes had been tightly shut since the boulder fell, was not affected. She could now clearly see the gaping hole in their path. She grabbed Arka and stopped her from blindly walking off the edge.

“What happened, Arka?”

“I don’t know, but someone seems to be on our side. It was a fireball from below. Try to see who sent it.”

Zorbels screwed up her eyes but could see no one in the dark square below.

Gradually, Arka’s sight returned. She weighed up the width of the gap carefully. It was too far to jump. She looked down. The drop was sheer and they were too high up to risk a free climb. Above her, the rock jutted out slightly, but there were no handholds. Besides, Zorbels' fear of heights made it unlikely that they could climb over the gap. If only she had her climbing gear with her! Then she remembered her hammer and chisels. She could drive a chisel into the rock, but she had no rope. She rummaged through her back pack furiously.

“What are you looking for?” asked Zorbels.

“We need a rope.”

“What about your cloak?”

“Of course!”

She took off the cloak and used her knife to cut it into broad strips, knotting them together. Soon she had enough length to get across the gap. Sitting on Zorbels’ shoulders, she drove the chisel into the rock face as close to the edge of the gap as she could persuade Zorbels to stand. She tied the makeshift rope firmly below the handle of the chisel and tested it. It held!

“I’ll go first,” said Arka, “That way I can help you at the other side.”

Zorbels nodded. Arka took hold of the rope and ran at the edge of the gap. Her momentum carried her easily across to the other side, where she landed on both feet.
“It’s easy!”

Zorbels was not so sure, but caught the rope that Arka had swung back to her.

“Take a good run at it.”

Zorbels swallowed hard. Her hands were wet with sweat and her knees trembled.

“Now!” whispered Arka hoarsely.

Zorbels closed her eyes and ran at the edge. Momentarily, she felt her feet dangling in mid air, then heard Arka call, “Let go of the rope!”

She opened her eyes as she let go and landed gently on the ledge. Arka had caught the rope and was tugging it to free it from the chisel. That way the elf could not follow them. It was a shame to leave the chisel, but that couldn’t be helped.

Zorbels appeared to have become calmer, and they made their way down without too much difficulty. Reaching the bottom, they sank into the grass at the base of the cliff and rested a while. No one had followed and they felt safe to stay here for the moment.

[Arka]

In a windowless room Jefecra’s interrogators had been working ceaselessly. The Ynnwn had resisted at first, much to the Captain’s annoyance. He hated having to torture people; it was so unnecessary. They all cracked eventually; better to save themselves the trouble and cooperate. But people were stubborn and their tongues needed loosening.

Strapped to the wooden bench, his shirt torn away the Ynnwn looked with horror at the contraption being strapped to his stomach. The guard had smeared his body with a mixture of ground meat and honey and he could only begin to imagine what was going to happen next.

Unlike Jefecra, the two guards quite enjoyed their work; it was always an anti-climax when their clients backed down. This one had put up a good fight so far; it looked like being a good night for them. But for now they had to wait for the Captain’s say so.

Jefecra walked into the room noiselessly and appeared in the Ynnwn’s face, smiling.

“I trust my men have made you comfortable,” he jeered.

The Ynnwn clenched his jaw. He knew if he said anything he would be a dead man.

“You are making it all rather hard for yourself,” began Jefecra, “You see, my men are professionals. They know just how to hurt you enough. Enough to experience pain the like of which you would never imagine, but not enough to release you from consciousness. You will talk to me, you see, because everyone does eventually.”

All the time he studied the Ynnwn’s face, looking for a reaction, any sign that he was getting through.

“You have the privilege of being the first to try out our next method,” he crooned. “Observe the cage strapped to your belly. We made it with padded leather round the bottom, not for your comfort, but to stop the creatures from escaping. You see, it makes a very tight fit.”

Beads of sweat prickled on the Ynnwn’s brow as Jefecra played with a small catch and opened the hatch at the top of the contraption. One of the guards disappeared and returned with a cage, covered with a cloth. The Ynnwn turned his head as the sound of scratching and muffled squeaks reached his ears.

“They are, by nature, burrowing animals,” Jefecra continued, “Very sharp claws and teeth. We were wondering how long it would take them to escape. Of course the fire will speed them up, if we need it.”

He nodded to a tray of burning coals glowing in a tray next to the bench.

“Apparently, my men have placed bets on this. I am sure you won’t want to spoil their fun?”

The Ynnwn closed his eyes. Hopefully, this would kill him. The pain in his crushed fingers and his flayed back were nothing compared to the imagination of some rodent burrowing through his guts.

Jefecra sniffed.

“Really, I thought you would be made of sterner stuff. Don’t you want to meet your new tormentors?”

He held up a small desert rat by the tail. The Ynnwn opened one eye. The rat was inches from his face, scrabbling furiously in the air with its paws. A sharp claw caught his nose and he winced.

“We have his whole family with him.” Jefecra was starting to enjoy this, in spite of himself. “But I think we should try them one by one, don’t you?”

The Ynnwn’s eyes widened as Jefecra lowered the rat into the cage and closed the hatch. For a moment, nothing happened; the rat looked around, bemused and started to clean its whiskers. Maybe it was then it tasted the honey and meat, for it began to run around sniffing at the Ynnwn’s taught skin. He watched in horror as it started to chew at his navel; its sharp claws dug into his belly, instantly drawing blood. He could feel those sharp teeth sinking lower.

“No!” he shouted, and the rat jumped.

“You want it to stop?” asked Jefecra.

“Yes! Anything! Just stop it. I’ll talk. Anything you want to know.”

Jefecra nodded at the guard who unstrapped the cage, but not before the rat had taken a strip of flesh from the Ynnwn. Dark blood trickled from the wound as the rat was returned to its family. The guard looked genuinely upset.

Jefecra’s face was now inches from the side of the Ynnwn’s head.

“Your name?” he asked smoothly.

“Karnak,” he began, “Karnak Egrat.”

“Better,” said Jefecra, “Now the names of the Seven, if you please.”

Gradually, in a dry, shaky voice, Karnak began to unravel the secrecy surrounding the Seven and their operation. Soon Jefecra had all the information he needed except one vital item; the name of the leader. All Karnak would say was “K”. Some of the others knew him, but he never used his name. Even the threat of the cage would not persuade him to reveal more. Eventually, Jefecra was satisfied that he had all has going to get.

“Take him away,” he ordered, “And keep him alive. We might need him later.”

Karnak’s broken body was released from the bench. One of the guards threw salt water over his bloody back and he flinched. They half-carried, half-dragged him to his cell.

Jefecra returned to his study. He needed some rest. But first he had a raid to plan.

[Arka]

Arka and Zorbels gathered their things and prepared for the last scramble down the grassy bank into the square.

“We can stay at the University,” began Arka.

“No! That will be the first place they come looking for us. I have a better place.”

“But I need to see Lordbug.”

“Can’t it wait? It’s too dangerous.”

“There’s no-one about now. I can be back here in half an hour.”

Reluctantly, Zorbels agreed.

“Be quick,” she hissed. “I’ll hide here behind the fence.”

Arka agreed and ran off across the square. Hiding on the other side of the fence, Sudisir smiled to himself. A new plan was already forming in his evil mind.
Ten minutes later, Arka was outside Lordbug’s rooms at the University. There was no answer to her urgent knocking, and the door was locked. Tearing a page from her notebook, Arka scribbled a note and slipped it under his door. She wondered where he could be; it was well past midnight.

Arka hurried back across the square.

“Zorbels!” she whispered, but there was no reply.

Arka followed the length of the fence, but there was no sign of her. She sat on the grass and waited, but after half an hour, she began to worry. Something had gone wrong, she knew it. Zorbels would not desert her. But Sudisir would not have been able to get down the crags in the short time she had been away. There must be more of them! She had to be really alert now. She looked around for signs but there was no indication of where Zorbels had been taken. She sat on the grass for a while, wondering what to do. There was really no point searching for her; Hydlaa was a big place and she could be almost anywhere. No, she needed to rest now. In the morning, Lordbug would be back and he would know what to do.

Despite Zorbels’ warning, Arka returned to her rooms at the University. The guard wouldn’t expect her to have returned, and after the last few days, she needed the comfort of her own bed. She slipped between the sheets and fell asleep almost immediately.

[Arka]

Jefecra returned to his study to find Gholmyrr sprawled across his desk and Lordbug curled up on the mat in front of his fire. Both were fast asleep. He thought for a moment of waking them, but held back. He could use their help in the morning; better let them get some rest. The Seven were meeting at 9. He would need at least a dozen men. Finara and Rabartus would be fully rested by morning; they could each lead a phalanx. He could put the guardhouse on a skeleton staff. Quietly sliding open a drawer in his desk, he took out a long thin notebook. Moving to a comfortable armchair in the corner of his study he began to write the names of the guards he could muster, fifteen in all, plus three leaders, including himself. That should be adequate, if they caught the Seven by surprise. Lordbug and Gholmyrr would be useful too.

He retrieved a narrow camp bed from behind a bookshelf and carefully unfolded it. He kept it here for those frequent occasions when he needed to work through the night. Covering himself with the rough blanket, he reflected on the events of the past week. So much disorder in the world! Too much for him to sort out. Too many loose ends. Who was K? Where was Sudisir? Was Arka safe? What was Zorbels’ role in all this? The morning would bring some answers at least. For now, he had to get some sleep.

If Jefecra had any inkling of where Sudisir was at that moment, he would have been astonished. Three floors below the guardhouse, in a forgotten cellar, the Dermorian had set up a makeshift prison. On a pile of sacking, lay the unconscious figure of a Fenki. Sudisir sat in the corner, idly sharpening a long dagger. Talking her had been so easy! Using the invisibility Glyph, he had crept up behind her. She was so tired, she hadn’t heard him. A sharp blow to the back of the head with the hilt of his dagger was all it took. Carrying her back to his lair was a struggle, but the streets were deserted and he faced no challenge.

The last part had nearly defeated him. Getting the inert Fenki over the fence was almost impossible. Eventually he had the idea of stacking barrels against the fence, making a series of steps. He had dragged her up from above, one step at a time, before unceremoniously dropping her over the top. After that, it was easy. He dragged her body down the cellar steps until he found the room he was looking for, at the far end of a forgotten passage. At the back of the cellar was a strong room, with a heavy oak door, iron bars set into the wood. He piled up the sacks in a corner and dragged Zorbels across the floor. Sliding the bolt across the door, he slid down the wall, exhausted.

Now the trap was baited! He had a few more loose ends to take care of, but Arka was as good as dead.

[Arka]

Sudisir rested for an hour but did not sleep. He had work to do. First there was that interfering elf to take care of. Then there was a trap to be baited. Making sure the door was secure, he gathered his things together and set out into the night. At this time, the best way out of the city was over the wall. It was a route he had taken many times.

Half an hour later he was at the top of the crags. He found the boulder that the elf had intended to use before Sudisir had stopped him. The grass was flattened at the top of the cliff where he had been standing. Sudisir looked around for clues. Another patch of flattened grass revealed where the elf had fallen when he took the impact of the fireball. There was a trail of scorched grass between here and the cliff edge. Sudisir smiled to himself; not many could have hit a target that small at that distance.

Then he found what he was looking for. Footprints, almost too faint to be noticed, leading down the hill towards the river. As he reached the top of the ridge a faint glow below him confirmed that he had found his prey. It was a cold night and he had lit himself a fire to sleep by.

Sudisir carefully circled the makeshift camp to make sure that the elf was alone. Then he struck. Lifting the sleeping elf’s head by his hair, he pressed the point of his dagger against the side of his neck.

“Tell me who you are and I might let you live,” he hissed.

“S-sardit,” came the reply. Sardit tried to turn his head but Sudisir increased the pressure on his neck and he thought better of it.

“What do you know about Arka?”

“Nothing. I have never heard of her.”

“Then why did you try to kill her tonight?”

Sardit saw no advantage in trying to deny this.

“She is a dwarf.”

“You tried to kill her because she is a dwarf?” Sudisir sounded incredulous.

“It’s a long story.”

Sardit felt the pressure on his neck ease a little and sighed in relief. But he was still in mortal danger.

“I have time. You can tell me.”

The knife was taken from his throat, but Sudisir held onto his hair.

So Sardit began his tale of how his master had been murdered by dwarfs and how he had hated them ever since. [For the full story, see http://hydlaa.com/smf/index.php?topic=23195.0] Sudisir listened with interest to his tale and began to see in them both much in common. They had different reasons for hating dwarfs, but their intent was the same.

He let Sardit’s head fall back on his pillow. “I think we can be of use to each other,” he said with a vicious grin, “But first, tell me. Could you recognise the dwarf you tried to kill on the crags tonight?”

Sardit nodded.

“Then I have an errand for you. If you help me I shall see that you are well rewarded. However, cross me – and you will die.”

[Arka]

Gholmyrr stretched and looked around him. For a moment, he completely failed to understand where he was and why he had tried to sleep sitting at a desk. His shoulders ached and his legs were cramped. Then he spotted Lordbug on the hearthrug and remembered.

He looked around the room. There was a camp bed in the corner with a neatly folded blanket. Gholmyrr rubbed his eyes and yawned, as Jefecra appeared carrying three steaming bowls on a tray.

“Ah Sir Gholmyrr, you are awake. Tea?”

He set the tray down in front of the sleepy Ylian. The aroma of fennel and aniseed wafted from the bowls. Jefecra walked across to Lordbug and prodded him with his toe. Lordbug snorted, turned over and fell asleep again.

“We have some work to do this morning,” began Jefecra. “Our friend was umm… persuaded to help us.”

Gholmyrr winced. He wondered what form the persuasion had taken.

“Apparantly there is a meeting of the ‘Seven’ this morning. We have all the names except the mysterious ‘K’. I have considered my options and have decided a raid would be the best move, under the circumstances.”

Gholmyrr nodded, but secretly wondered how Jefecra made it all sound so mundane.

“We have the address. There will be more than seven there, I believe. Finara, Rabartus and myself will each lead a team of 5 guards, and I am assuming that you and Lordbug will want to assist?”

Gholmyrr looked at Lordbug, recumbent by the fireside, “If you can rouse him…”

An hour later the guards had assembled outside the tower. Each was fully armed. Lordbug and Gholmyrr had been briefed by Jefecra. They each carried a pair of longswords.

“Now men,” began Jefecra. Finara pulled a face.

“We have to maintain the element of surprise. Finara, Rabartus and I will take each of the three entrances. No-one is to make a move until I give the order. Understood?”
The guards murmured their consent.

“Now, disperse and make your way to the rendezvous. You will each take the path I have given you, to avoid raising suspicion. We meet in 10 minutes. Once you arrive at the meeting place, make yourselves inconspicuous. The meeting will have started by then but there will doubtless be various look-outs. This is a dangerous mission, and those that survive it will be well rewarded.”

The last announcement was met with a mixed reaction.

“Right. Off you go. Rendezvous in ten minutes.”

The guards sloped off. Lordbug and Gholmyrr walked together, but Jefecra had chosen a different route for himself.

“Worried?” Gholmyrr asked Lordbug.

“A little. I’m not sure what we will meet with. But Jefecra seems to know what he’s doing.”

“Jefeca always seems to know what he’s doing. That doesn’t mean he actually does.”

Lordbug looked glum. “I wish we could have prevented Sudisir’s escape.”

“Pinante and Nikoren are looking out for Arka.”

“But we’ve heard nothing from them.”

“No news, as they say, is good news, Lordbug. But now we have to focus on the task ahead. We can worry about Sudisir later.”

“I suppose so,” said Lordbug. But he was clearly worried. And although he didn’t show it, so was Gholmyrr.

[Arka]

Arka woke with a start. The azure sun shone through the windows of her loft and she realised she had slept late. For a moment she wondered where she was, but then the events of the previous night came flooding back. She had lost Zorbels! Jumping out of bed, Arka pulled on clean clothes from her chest and packed a small bag. She had to find her.

She tried to piece together what had happened. The elf at the top of the crags – it must have been Sudisir, but he was in prison. The execution wasn’t due for a few more days. How could he have escaped? But if it was Sudisir, how could he have got to Zorbels so soon? She hadn’t been gone long enough for him to get down the crags. And who had sent the fireball up the cliff to save them? None of this made sense. She needed to see Lordbug.

Moments later she was outside Lordbug’s rooms, but the door was still locked and there was no answer to her knocking. Where was everyone when she needed them? She would have to go looking for Zorbels herself and hope the guards didn’t see her. There really was no option. She ran back upstairs and took out of her cupboard a light green hooded cloak. That would offer some disguise.

She had no time to waste. Running down the stone steps, two at a time, she exited the University into a bright fresh morning. She took a good look around the square before pulling her hood over her head and setting out to find her friend. She would stick to the back lanes for now, weaving her way through the houses of East Hydlaa. Zorbels could be anywhere, so she had to look everywhere. It was the only thing she could do. She peered round the corner by the Library to check for guards. So far, so good. Quickly she dived into the alleyway between the houses. Moments later a small figure followed her.

With the hood over her head, Arka didn’t hear the light footsteps that followed.

[Arka]

Rabartus arrived at the meeting place first. Using all his tracking skills he checked all the entrances. There were two men on each. That would be difficult, but not impossible. There didn’t seem to be anyone else, but he scanned the surrounding buildings, looking for a movement in a window, a flash of steel, but he saw nothing. He spotted a narrow alley-way between the buildings, a good place for his men to hide. He should move to the back of the buildings to the rendezvous.

Then he spotted an opportunity. One of the two Ylians on this side of the building said something to his companion and walked off towards the bushes. That left an easy target. Rabartus pulled his throwing knife from his belt. He waited until the remaining Ylian was facing away and then ran nimbly across the short distance between the buildings. From here, the only side without an entrance, he was out of sight of the others and could get in a good throw.

The knife whistled through the air and found its mark. The Ylian sank to his knees, briefly trying to grab hold of the knife between his shoulders before landing face down in the mud. Quickly, Rabartus dragged him around the corner. He pulled out his knife and propped the body up against the wall. In this position, the Ylian just looked like he was taking a rest. Now for the difficult part. The other one was already making his way back to his post. Rabartus drew back from the corner, staying out of his sight then ran across to the next building and slipped into the alley way. Running as fast as he could, he skirted the back of the building, emerging into the alley on the other side. From here, he could creep up on the second Ylian, who had not yet reached his post.

He heard him call out for his companion. Rabartus had to do this quickly before he raised the alarm! Selecting a long dagger, he followed the second Ylian to the corner. Just before he turned, Rabartus put his hand over his mouth and thrust the dagger between his ribs. The Ylian gave a gasp, stiffened, then fell to the floor. Rabartus pulled the body around the corner and sat it down beside the first. From a distance they would arouse no suspicion, he thought.

Just then, Rabartus saw Jefecra arrive ahead of a group of guards. He ran across the now unguarded street to join him.

“This entrance is clear sir,” he said.

Jefecra looked at the blood on the guard’s knife and frowned. “I said you were to wait for me, Rabartus. I will see you later about this. Still, now you have cleared a way in, we should make use of it. We will lead two phalanxes in this way. Once I give the order, you can take your men round behind the building to create a diversion. Use your whistle to alert us. Understood?”

Rabartus saluted.

By now everyone was in place and Jefecra whispered his orders to Finara, Gholmyyr and Lordbug. They would all make their entrance on this side, entering the meeting room behind the head of the table. Jefecra had wrung every last detail out of Karnak. He wanted to take no chances, while it seemed his lieutenant wanted to take no prisoners.

“Once in, we divide ourselves to each side of the table. Make sure everyone stays seated. Any sign of movement and you have my permission to use whatever force is needed. I shall take care of the leader.”

Jefecra allowed Rabartus to get his men into place then led the rest across the street. Trying the door, he found it opened easily and silently. This was going to be easy. Motioning his men to go quietly he led them down the narrow passage to a thick velvet curtain. A whistle blew outside; the sign that Rabartus was attacking the other two entrances. Swiftly, Jefecra threw aside the curtain and his men streamed in, taking their places behind those at the table.

“Nobody move!” boomed Jefecra, taking hold of the hooded figure at the head of the table and pressing his knife against his throat. “My men have orders to kill anyone who tries to escape.”

There was brief silence and Jefecra was aware of the look of astonishment on his guards’ faces.

“Sir…” began Finara before another familiar voice cut her off.

“Captain! You had better have a good explanation for this!”

Jefecra whitened and jumped back, releasing his prisoner.

“M-my Lord?” he stammered.

Kehala threw back his chair and towered over the hapless Captain.

“It’s a trick!” shouted Lordbug, but it was too late. Disarmed and dazed, the Captain did not see Kehala pull the dagger from his belt until it was too late. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion; Lordbug dived across the table, Finara grabbed at Kehala’s cloak, which came away, falling over Lordbug. Kehala lunged at Jefecra, who doubled up, dark blood staining his white fur.

Then Kehala was gone.

Finara pressed her hand in the wound as Lordbug struggled to free himself of the cloak. The room was quiet except for the clamour outside as Rabartus’ men subdued the rest of Kehala’s henchmen.

“He’s losing a lot of blood,” said Finara.

“Here.” Gholmyrr passed her a phial of dark pink liquid.

“I hope we’re not too late.” Finara broke open the phial with her free hand and dripped the potion into the wound. Jefecra was unconscious, but the bleeding was staunched.

Lordbug and Gholmyyr carried him back to the watchtower on a stretcher, while the members of the Seven and what remained of their guard were led back in chains. People thronged to the square to see the spectacle. One or two had managed to find rotten fruit and peppered the prisoners as they passed until the guards, in their own time, intervened.

Finara walked alongside the stretcher. “I hope he pulls though.”

[Arka]

“Looking for your friend?”

Arka spun round. For an awful moment she thought she was looking at Sudisir – the same stature, the same shortly cropped black hair. Then she realised this was not him and relaxed.

“Who are you?”

Sardit told her his name.

“You know where Zorbels is?”

“She is safe. She wanted you to know.”

“Where is she?”

“She asked me to give you a message.”

“But where…”

The Dermorian held up a hand to silence her. “She will meet you at noon at the top of the Tower,” he said, “She wants you to come alone. She says you are in great danger and not to trust anyone.”

“How do I know you are telling the truth?”

The elf reached into his bag and drew out a single black dagger. In its hilt was set a green gemstone. He handed it to her. Arka stared at the dagger then drew her own from her belt. The two matched perfectly. There was no doubt about it. This was Zorbels’ dagger.

“Noon. At the top of the tower,” repeated the elf. Then he was gone.

Arka looked around the alleyway. It was deserted. “Trust no-one,” she thought. She didn’t like the sound of that. There had been a time when she had trusted no one. How wrong she had been. But maybe Zorbels had some new information. No! She must tell Lordbug.

She was on her way back to the University when she remembered the last time she had spoken to Lordbug. He and Gholmyrr had been arguing. What was it about? She scoured her memory. She had only picked up the end of the conversation. Lordbug was worried about taking the blame for something, and Gholmhyyr had said something about not losing face. No that was not right – keeping his face! That was it. She shuddered, remembering the faceless victim of the murder that had happened the night of her birthday. Were Lordbug and Gholmyrr mixed up in that business? Is that what Zorbels’ meant in her message?

No, that didn’t make sense. She had to trust Lordbug after all they had been through together. She would go to him now and tell him about the message, ask him what to do.

Moments later, she was outside his room for the third time that day, and the door was still locked. She wrote a careful note asking him to follow her to the Tower – just in case – and slipped it under his door. She hadn’t much time, so quickly ran up to her rooms. Maybe, just maybe, this was a trap. She didn’t want to walk into it empty-handed.

[Arka]

Nikoren and Pinante had argued for the first half of the long walk back from Akkaio and had spent the last three leagues in silence. Each blamed the other for losing both Sudisir and Arka. Whatever friendship existed between them was now stretched to the limit.

It wasn’t until they were in sight of the Walls of Hydlaa that Pinante broke the silence. “We need a plan, Nikoren. Despite what we think of each other right now, we need to work together. Arka will be in more danger than ever…”

“Not because of me…”

Pinante snorted. “Nevertheless, she is in grave danger and we must try to protect her. Can we please put our differences aside, at least until we know she is safe.”

Nikoren assented and for now, the atmosphere between them lightened. “First we should find out if Lordbug is out of custody.”

“Surely Jefecra will have realised by now that he had nothing to do with the escape?”

“Maybe,” agreed Nikoren, “But you know how thorough Jefecra can be.”

“True, although pedantic is the word I would choose.”

“Obsessive.”

They both laughed. There was nothing like having fun at someone else’s expense to make people forget their differences.

“So we head straight for the University?”

“Sounds good to me.”

********************

Lordbug and Gholmyyr arrived back at the University in high spirits. All but Kehala arrested and Jefecra on the mend. The physick had said nothing vital had been damaged and as long as the wound did not get infected, the worst he could expect was a nasty scar.

Lordbug unlocked his door and pushed it open. “Ahh! It’s good to be home. Hello! What’s this?”

He stooped to pick up a piece of paper. “It’s in Arka’s hand. Lordbug – I’m back, Zorbels and I will find somewhere to hide and I’ll get a message to you. I’m safe. Where are you? - Arka,” he read.

“What’s Zorbels doing with her?

“I’ve no idea.”

Lordbug walked over to his desk, opened a drawer and took out a bottle.

“I don’t know about you but I could use a drink right now.”

Gholmyrr was staring at the floor. “Hang on – there’s another note here.” He picked it up. "We need your help Lordbug. I’m going to the Tower to meet Zorbels – come as soon as you can. Meet me at the top. -  Arka.”

“Let me see,” said Lordbug, immediately sensing a trap. He compared the two notes intently. The handwriting matched perfectly. “It’s definitely from Arka,” he said, “Or at least in the same hand. This doesn’t make sense. Zorbels would never climb the tower. At least, not willingly.” His eyes narrowed.

“We have no time to lose then.”

The two grabbed their weapons and headed across the Plaza towards the tower.

[Arka]

Arka had never climbed the Tower before, although she had passed its entrance many times on the way back up from the mines. Below it was a vast labyrinth of passages and chambers, some forgotten now. And beneath them were mines with rich mineral seams. She climbed the steps with apprehension. Every fibre of her body screamed out that this was a trick, but she knew she had to go. She could not let any harm come to her friend. A long dark passage led to the base of the Tower.

She emerged into an octagonal room at the base of tower. Looking up she could see a narrow staircase winding around the walls that disappeared into the gloom above. Tattered banners hung from the walls and there was a smell of dust and decay hanging in the still air. To get onto the stairway, Arka had to climb a steep ladder, whose base rested on the 8-sided stone set into the centre of the floor. She looked up and could just make out a glimmer of light filtering in through the roof of the tower. The rungs of the ladder were spaced for someone much taller than Arka and she had to pull herself up every step.

Eventually she reached the first landing at the base of the spiral steps. Hanging on the wall was an ancient red tapestry. The staircase was narrow and had no handrail. Hugging the wall, Arka edged upwards, step by step. “Don’t look down,” she said to herself. Then it struck her. There was no way Zorbels, with her fear of heights would willingly climb this tower. It would be the last place she would think of hiding. This was a trap! What should she do? Wait for Lordbug? But the dagger was Zorbels’ – there was no doubt of that. Then the awful truth dawned on her. Zorbels had been kidnapped. And it was all because of her.

Now Arka knew what she must do. Spurred on by the thought of her friend at the mercy of that fiend, Sudisir, she ran up the stairs. Reaching the third landing she stopped suddenly. “Careful Arka,” she said to herself as she realised the stairs suddenly stopped here. Spanning the gap was a makeshift bridge made of rope and wood. She hoped it was in better condition than the wall hangings. Stepping onto the bridge, she felt it shift under her weight. The wood creaked and groaned with every step. Holding onto the rope on each side she made her way slowly and carefully up the next landing, one gentle step at a time. Suddenly, she felt her ankle twist as the plank under her foot tipped. She stepped back just in time; if she had put her full weight on the loose plank, she surely would have fell to her death.

Arka looked carefully at the plank beyond it. It looked solid, but there was no way of knowing. She would have to risk it. Taking a short run she jumped over the loose plank and grabbed the ropes to steady herself as she landed. The bridge swayed alarmingly and her head swam. Holding tight onto the ropes she allowed the oscillations to cease before moving on. She felt the knot claw at her stomach and tasted blood in her mouth. She had bitten her tongue.

Now there was just one more staircase and a ladder to negotiate. She could feel the breeze from the opening in the roof, at the top of the ladder. Arka paused on the last landing. Despite herself she glanced down at the way she had come. The floor was so far below her it was no longer visible. One false step would surely be fatal. But she must move on. Her friend’s life depended on her.

[Arka]

Arka stepped on the bottom rung of the ladder, her heart in her mouth. With both hands on the ladder, she realised she would be defenceless as she emerged, but there was no way she could hold a weapon and climb at the same time. The rungs were spaced too far apart. Her axes were tucked into her belt, along with Zorbels’ daggers. She paused and felt in her pocket for the Red Glyph, then thought again. If she tried to use this on the ladder, the blast would likely knock her off. No, she had to press on and take her chances at the top.

She emerged, blinking into the light to see Zorbels, sitting with her back against one of the stone pillars at the edge of the Tower, her hands and feet bound with rope. She had been gagged. She looked at Arka in alarm. Spinning round, Arka saw Sudisir, standing the other side of the square opening in the roof.

“Why, if it isn’t Miss Garam,” he crooned in the familiar high-pitched voice, “So nice of you to drop in.” He sneered at her.

He appeared unarmed, but Arka knew he would have at least one Glyph on him, probably many more. She would take no chances. “You can let Zorbels go, Sudisir. This is just between you and me.”

“All in good time, my little friend, all in good time.”

Arka moved towards Zorbels, keeping her eyes on Sudisir all the time.

“Don’t do anything rash, Miss Garam”

“I’m going to untie her.”

“I don’t think so.” He reached inside his pocket.

“At least let me take off her gag.”

Sudisir paused to consider this. “All right, but she stays bound.”

Arka loosened the gag and it fell away.

“Arka! You shouldn’t have come.”

“I couldn’t have left you with this… monster.”

“How touching,” Sudisir mocked, “Come to save her friend”

“Try to get away Arka – he’ll just kill us both.”

“Not if I can help it.”

“Big words from the little Dwarf.” Sudisir was clearly enjoying this.

“Why Sudisir?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you want to kill me so badly?”

“On the contrary, I want to kill you well.” He laughed at his own joke, an odd, high squeal of a laugh, much like a pig, Arka thought. If only she could keep him talking long enough for Lordbug to get here…

[Arka]

“You might as well know,” Sudisir began. “You see, I haven’t always lived on this accursed Stalactite. A long time ago, many aeons ago in fact I lived in a place your kind call Erengabord.”

Arka’s eyes widened. “You are a dark elf?” she asked, astonished.

“Your histories called us that, yes,” he spat, “But we were Aoelfrae. Free-elves.”

“The dark elves killed my ancestors.”

“We only wanted what was ours. If the Petty-dwarfs had not been so stubborn...”

“You cannot blame the Dwarfs for what your kind did. You exterminated the whole race!”

“Lies! Your histories are not truthful. We could have lived alongside the Nibin-Noeg but they wanted us dead. Your ancestors killed my father!”

“That’s not possible!”

“Mim, the father of Fjinn and Garwin – the leader of your clan. He was a warmonger. I was sent with my father, Aelowyn, to make our peace with him after your Garwin had gone to ground with his followers. We wanted to bring peace to Erengabord but all Mim wanted was more bloodshed. The talks were a trap. He drew his sword at the table and slew my father. I escaped, but only just. The Nibin-Noeg brought their doom upon themselves. After the war, I vowed revenge on my father’s death and followed Garwin’s clan down the mines. Then I came across the Stone Labyrinths. For hundreds of years I have scoured this cursed Stalactite before I found your clan. Then I did what I had to do.”

“You killed my mother and father!”

“The lies must die! If necessary with the Stonebreakers that believe them!”

“You killed my mother because she knew our histories?”

“Anyone who propagates lies against the Aoelfrae must die.”

“But Garwin left because of Mim’s stubbornness – he wanted no part in the war.”

“He ran away. The Rodfrakem was an act born out of cowardice.”

Arka stiffened. “You – you speak Perrakithor?”

“Of course! We lived alongside the Nibin-Noeg for long enough. What you now quaintly call Pel Perrakithor – Stonebreaker – is a very old language, well-known to the free elves.”

Arka considered this. A part of her was grateful that Sudisir had escaped execution. “We can work together, Sudisir. We can re-write the histories from what we both know.”

Sudisir laughed. “You try to bargain with me? Really, this is too much. Have you forgotten that you had me sentenced to death?”

“I could plead for clemency.”

“You are too late, Arka. Several hundred years too late. Your kind had the opportunity to work with us, but betrayed that opportunity. Now I shall revenge my father’s death.”

“I had nothing to do with it.”

“You are Nibin-Noeg. That is enough.”

“I am Stonebreaker!”

“It’s all the same to me,” said Sudisir, advancing on Arka.

They circled the opening in the centre of the room in a macabre dance. Arka could see the Glyph in Sudisir’s hand. She knew she had to take action now or she would die here.

[Arka]

Pinante and Nikoren were crossing the Plaza when they saw two familiar figures running towards them.

“Hail! Lordbug! Gholmyrr.”

“Pinante! Nikoren! No time to explain,” panted Lordbug, “Pinante, you must get us to the top of the tower. Quickly!”

Pinante considered this. It would take all the mana he had.

“Quickly, Pinante!”

“Right! Gather round! All link arms and hang on for your life.” In his mind, he created a clear image of the tower roof.

There was a rushing sound and a swirl of coloured lights as the four were transported to the tower top. Pinante collapsed, exhausted from the effort, his head pounding. Just before they appeared, Arka had launched herself at Sudisir, in an attempt to knock him off his feet. The arrival of her friends had distracted him for a second, otherwise he would have stopped her with a fireball. He toppled backwards to the edge of the tower, his arms flailing madly. Arka grabbed him and pulled him towards her. It was the second time she had saved his life. In a flash, Sudisir threw Arka over his shoulder. She landed on the edge of the roof, her boots scrambling for a foothold, still gripping Sudisir’s wrists tightly. For a moment, they stared at each other, before Arka slipped, pulling Sudisr heavily onto his front. He gasped, all the breath knocked out of him, unable to free himself from her grip.

Lordbug launched himself at the elf as he started to slip over the edge, pulled by Arka’s weight. Grabbing a leg, he braced himself against a pillar. Gholmyrr took hold of Lordbug while Nikoren began to untie Zorbels. Sudisir now hung fully over the edge of the tower, cursing, while Arka gripped his wrists. In this position he could not attack. He lashed out at Lordbug with his free leg, trying to break his grip.

“Let go, Lordbug,” called Arka, “better we both perish.”

“No!”

“If you pull him up, he will kill us all.”

“I can’t let you die.”

“Just do it!”

Lordbug looked behind him. Nikoren had freed Zorbels and the two had armed themselves. He had to take the chance. “Gholmyrr! Grab the other leg.”

Gholmyrr tentatively let go of Lordbug and grabbed at the flailing boot. On the third attempt he took hold and held it tightly. Sudisir shouted a vile oath as they started to pull him up.

This would be tricky, thought Lordbug. Once Sudisir was clear of the edge, he could grab Arka, but that would mean letting Sudisir go free.

“Nikoren! Zorbels! Cover Sudisir while I save Arka.”

Gholmyrr now had hold of both ankles as he pulled Sudisir away from the edge, writhing and cursing. It was rather like wrestling a snake, he thought. Lordbug now had hold of Arka’s arms and was pulling her up. At some point she would have to let go of his wrists. He hoped they could handle him.

Then, everything seemed to happen at once. At the moment Arka let go, Sudisir kicked Gholmyrr, breaking his nose. Blood streamed out and Gholmyyr lost his grip. Lordbug was still holding Arka’s arms, her boots scrabbling for a foothold. Sudisir jumped to his feet and held up the Red Glyph.

“No!” shouted Nikoren and Zorbels, both running towards the elf.

[Arka]

Just as the fireball left Sudisir’s hands, Pinante shouted a spell. Immediately, the tower top was filled with streamers and balloons. The spell bounced off a red balloon, bursting it with a loud pop.

“Everyone! Get down!” shouted Pinante, as the fireball ricocheted from balloon to balloon, around the tower. The spell did a complete circuit of the roof, finally heading back to its origin. It struck the startled Sudisir full on the chest and he was blown backwards over the edge. A long, high pitched wail marked his descent. The magic balloons gradually drifted away.

Lordbug pulled Arka to her feet. “What was that?”

Pinante smiled. “It was the only spell I had the mana for,” he explained, “but it seemed to do the trick.”

“What happened to Sudisir?” asked Arka.

Lordbug pointed to the edge of the roof.

“No!” Arka ran to the edge and looked down.

“Careful Arka!” shouted Lordbug, pulling her back from the edge.

“He could speak Stonebreaker. And he knew our histories.” Arka was genuinely upset.

“He tried to kill you Arka,” Lordbug reminded her gently. “You are safe now.”

Arka looked over the edge expecting to see his broken body on the stone pavement below. There was no sign of him.

“Lordbug! Look!” she pointed down.

It was true; the body had disappeared.


************************

In an alley way, behind the tower, two elves were struggling with their load. “Quickly!” said one, “We need to get him to Drahlian before it is too late!”

They carried the body through the alley before disappearing into the back streets of Hydlaa. By the time Arka and her friends had descended the tower they were long gone.

“He couldn’t have survived that fall.” Said Lordbug.

“Hmm I’m not so sure. You don’t know Sudisir. I somehow feel we haven’t seen the end of this business,” reflected Arka.

They waited for Pinante to transport Zorbels down sparing her the dangerous climb inside the tower before heading off to the University. Gholmyrr went to report to the guard. Zorbels, weak from her ordeal and still dizzy from the height of the tower was being half-carried by Lordbug and Nikoren.

"Nothing a good hot meal and a sleep won't cure," said Pinante, and Zorbels agreed, although a little taken aback by Pinante's manner.

"Ignore him," whispered Arka, "He's always a bit grumpy when he's low on mana."

"I'm glad you turned up, Arka"

"It's what friends are for. In any case, it was me got you into trouble in the first place."

They were soon back at the University. Arka made Zorbels some soup and bread and put clean sheets on her bed. Half an hour later, Zorbels was asleep, dreaming of Trepors. Arka spent the afternoon at her desk, writing her tale in a nice new notebook. She stopped to think about what Sudisir had said. History was subjective, she had to admit. But their views on what the Dark Elves had done were poles apart. And to kill, because of history? She shuddered. Maybe it was better that Sudisir had perished in the fall. If he had... There was no body to be found. Maybe he was still alive. If he was alive, if, maybe she could persuade him to help her with the dictionary. He would be fluent in Pel Perrakithor. No, that was fanciful. There was no way they could be reconciled.

Arka rose from her desk, looked in on her sleeping friend to check she was comfortable and set off for a walk around the walls. She needed some time to think...