Malowan laid his hands lightly on the wall, then whispered, “Bugbears. None near. Many asleep.”
The door to the cells was slightly ajar. Light leaked around it and through a narrow peephole. None of the party were tall enough to see anything but the ceiling through it. Maera whispered something to Khlened, who knelt and made a cup of his hands for her foot then hoisted her up. She gazed through the slit for some moments, then leaped lightly down.
One guard, she signed. Four, maybe five cells. Someprisoners, one human for certain.
Guard where? Malowan signed.
Close, the ranger replied, then gestured for silence.
Lhors suddenly heard the bugbear stomping toward the outer door, muttering under his breath. Malowan signed for the rangers to move to the hinge-side of the door and for Khlened and Bleryn to take up position on the other side. He braced himself directly in front of it, sword in one hand and a long poniard in the other.
Silence again, broken this time by someone inside giggling in a pain-thinned voice. The guard had begun to draw the door open, and Lhors could make out a bugbear’s shadow on the wall. The creature turned away to snarlsomething. Malowan nodded once sharply, then ran forward, half-turned, and slammed his foot into the heavy door. The splintered wood swung into the bugbear, sending him flailing for balance down a short passage. He caught himself on the thick bars of a cell, swung back and felt for his morning star. Too late. Malowan was on him, sword point under his hairy chin. The rangers stood between the guard and his weapon, and Khlened and Bleryn now held the north wall. The dwarf snapped something that sounded like an order, but Lhors couldn’t understand a word of it. It sounded more like the bugbear’s language,all spitting and snarling. Whatever he said, it took the fight out of the guard.
“What’d you say?” Agya demanded.
The dwarf shrugged and grinned broadly.
“Told him that ol’ One Eye’s gone and ’is ape’s dead. Toldhim the wizard there”-he pointed at Nemis-“controls th’ other ape and hebe its lunch.” The dwarf chuckled. “Not too happy ’bout being et, is he?”
The bugbear was sliding slowly down the bars, huddling in on himself.
Malowan sighed. “I cannot kill the brute like this!”
“I can,” Bleryn said, all trace of humor gone. His eyesglinted, and he said something else in the other language.
The bugbear whimpered and curled up like a bug.
“No,” the paladin said firmly. “You and Khlened guard it. Dootherwise and you’ll answer to me.”
“Lhors, Agya,” Vlandar added, “find fetters for him.”
“Unnecessary,” Nemis said and spoke under his breath.
The bugbear went limp.
“He’s asleep, paladin,” said the mage. “Find your prisoners.I will keep watch to make sure we are not surprised.”
Malowan found a bunch of keys hanging from the wall and opened the first cell. The mad giggle began again, weaker this time, though the door was now open.
“Get me a light,” the paladin said. “I can see nothing.”
Agya clambered onto the guard’s bench to pull a torch fromits niche and held it up for him. Her eyes fixed on something inside and she gasped.
Malowan took the torch from her and gave her a little shove. “Don’t look. Just go.”
Lhors froze where he stood. He could clearly make out a wraith of a man who rocked back and forth on a filthy bench. Black, gaping holes gazed where his eyes had once been. One arm ended in a bloody stump, and both his feet were missing.
Gods, how could anyone do that? Lhors thought. How can he still be alive? Lhors suddenly couldn’t remember how to breathe, and he scarcelyfelt Vlandar’s hands on his shoulders, turning him away from the opening.
Behind him, the laughter faded. He could hear pained, harsh breathing, then Malowan’s voice. The paladin sounded as if he were weeping. “Icannot heal you. If I could, I could not restore your wit or cleanse the horrors from your mind. I can only release you and let Holy Rao restore your spirit to grace and peace.”
There was the faint sound of metal against metal. Malowan had drawn a blade.
“You will feel no pain,” the paladin rasped. “I swear it.”
The paladin drew a shuddering breath, and Lhors turned back just as Malowan plunged his dagger into one of the wretch’s empty eye sockets.
Lhors swallowed past a tight throat.
Malowan turned away, knife hanging loose, tears spilling over his eyes. The paladin fought for control, then drew a deep breath and turned back, blotting his eyes. “Dread Heironeous,” he said huskily, “see into my heartand show me the way to cleanse this blood from my hands, for you know me, and you know that I acted out of pity and gave him what mercy I could.” He turnedthen and left the cell, gently closing the door behind him.
Agya was very pale. She took the dagger from his fingers and shoved it back into its sheath. Malowan gave her a watery smile.
The rangers were already at the next cell and had it open. A tall man emerged, and Lhors blinked. He had very dark, bronzed skin, and hair as black as coal. He smiled, revealing very white teeth. “Dare a man hope this is arescue? Not much I wouldn’t do for that.” He looked around at the company. “Mustbe a tale here, so many warriors in old Nosnra’s cellars.”
“There is,” Vlandar said, “and if we get back out of Nosnra’scellars, you’ll hear it. I’m Vlandar out of western Keoland.”
“I am Gerikh,” the man said with a slight bow, “from Istivinon the Davish River, and unfortunately, no swordsman.”
“We won’t leave you here,” Vlandar assured him.
“Good. I’ve been here with two others since maybe amoon-phase ago. We were working on a bridge near Flen. I’m an engineer. Giantsset upon our party. By the time we got here, I was the only one alive.”
Malowan was already at the next cell, hands resting on the lock. “I’ve found your elf,” he announced.
Rowan bounded over, peeked in the cell, and immediately set to work on the lock with her dagger. After several moments of mumbled cursing, she drew back in frustration. “Damn all dwarven steel! Bleryn, can you get thislock open?”
Taking Khlened’s thick sword, the dwarf walked over to thecell, and with one sharp crack from the sword’s pommel, the lock fell tothe floor.
“Trouble’s with yer method,” the dwarf said with a crookedsmile, “not our ‘damned dwarven steel’.”
Maera went in as her sister got the door open. Rowan set her jaw, then followed.
The paladin and the rangers were back out moments later, a tall, slender fellow held up between them. A grayish rag encrusted with old blood hid one eye, but Maera tugged it loose, and Lhors saw with relief that it had covered a nasty scrape. He’d imagined much worse.
The rangers got the fellow over to the guard’s bench and lethim down. Rowan shoved his long, filthy hair back He seemed only half-conscious. She tugged at one of his pointed ears and quietly said, “We have come to rescueyou.”
No response. She said something in another language. His eyes opened warily, and he looked at her and then at Maera for some moments, then replied in what might have been the same language.
“He’s Florimund, a half-elf” Maera said as Rowan continued talking to him.“He remembers very little. Woods and giants, and then pain. Rowan, we need toget him out of here.”
“I agree,” Rowan replied. She and Maera got Florimund to hisfeet and brought him up by the door where Nemis was keeping watch.
Malowan came away from the last cell, its door unopened. “It’s a trap. Leave it be.” Then he too left the room.
“We have what we came for,” Vlandar said. “Let us go beforethe guard changes. This is no place for us.”
The paladin drew his sword. “Nemis, same sleep spell on thisguard?”
“He won’t waken on his own,” the mage said.