For a moment Leonidas thought they had lost their minds. The storehouse was built of stone and had survived almost intact for five hundred years. They could not dig underneath this building in anything less than days, and then what would be the point? The Tarmaks would find them long before they made a hole large enough for a human to slip through. Yet as he watched, he began to see some sense in their labor. The old walls were not solid stone. Behind a facade of crumbling sandstone was a thick layer of ancient mud bricks that had gradually deteriorated over the centuries. It easily gave way to the determined efforts of the men with the tools.
Taking turns, the men hacked and chopped until they had made a small hole through the wall. Voices from within called out to them but quickly hushed when Sir Hugh warned them to be quiet.
One of the sentries hurried back to the wall. “Sir Hugh, there are three Tarmaks walking through the yard. They are coming to this end of the building.”
Leonidas and the militia melted back into the darkness. Shielding their eyes from the downpour, they watched as the Tarmaks climbed over the ruins of the courtyard wall and walked around the corner of the prison. The warriors stopped and waited, obviously listening and looking out into the rain. Nothing must have excited their attention, for they conversed a moment then went back to the yard and disappeared into the shadows of the palace.
The militiamen went back to work prying and chopping the bricks loose to form a larger hole. They could hear the Knights within working on their side of the wall with their fingers.
“Sir Hugh,” a stern voice called through the hole. “Is that you? Did you survive?”
“Sir Remmik, yes, I am here.” Hugh said as loudly as he dared. “Let me speak to Lady Linsha.”
There was a cold silence on the other side, then Linsha’s voice answered him softly.
“If we get you out, will the Tarmak general kill Crucible?” he asked.
She pulled a brick out of the way, and he saw the pale blur of her face in the blackness of the gap. “I don’t think so,” she replied. “Varia brought me the news of his plans to take the Plains of Dust. I think he wants the dragon more than he wants me.”
“I don’t agree,” Lanther said from behind her. “He knows how much the dragon cares for you. If you are gone—or worse if you are killed—there will be no holding that dragon. The general will be forced to kill him.”
Sir Hugh was about to reply when shouts rang out from the slave pens nearby. A horn sounded a warning. The Knight swore under his breath. “Leonidas, here!” He pointed to the wall. “Finish it.”
Men scrambled out of the way as the buckskin stallion turned his rump to the wall. His powerful haunches rose and his hooves delivered a resounding kick to the edges of the hole. Sandstone crumbled and bricks flew under the force of his blow. He gathered his legs under him again and slammed another kick into the wall.
More shouting came from the slave pens, and torches appeared in the darkness. Screams followed the shouts as the Tarmaks charged to destroy the raiders. Sir Hugh did not wait any longer. Pushing Leonidas’s rump aside, he reached in through the hole in the wall, shoving bricks and pieces of mortar aside. The prisoners helped from their side until a hole perhaps a foot and a half wide had been made. He reached through, grabbed the first arm he felt, and hauled the person out of the storehouse.
Linsha fell flopping in the mud at his feet and grinned at him. “Ouch,” she said.
“Leonidas, get her out of here!” Sir Hugh shouted. He reached in again to help the next Knight.
Linsha climbed to her feet and helped Sir Hugh pulled a Knight from the gap. “Lanther! Come on, get out now!” she cried into the prison.
But he ignored her and pushed one of the Legionnaires through. Another Knight followed.
The sounds of shouting orders and clash of weapons could be heard even over the rain. “Please, Lanther! They’ll be here any moment!”
She felt a muddy hand grasp her wrist, and Lanther’s face peered through the hole. “I can’t. They’re here already. Don’t go, Linsha! It’s too dangerous! Let the others go, but if you are killed, they will destroy Crucible. Remember what the general said! ‘Don’t do anything to jeopardize his well-being.’ ”
Her eyes wide, she stared at him, her heart torn by his words.
“Please!” he exclaimed. “I don’t want to lose you.”
Something sliced past her and buried itself in the wall by her shoulder. Another arrow struck the first freed Knight, sending him spinning to the ground. The fletched end of an arrow quivered in his chest. From somewhere inside the prison she heard the loud commands of a Tarmak guard.
“That’s it!” Sir Hugh shouted. He wrenched her out. “Leonidas, take her now! The rest of you, get out!”
Linsha hesitated. What if Lanther was right? What if her escape angered the Akkad-Ur so much he killed the bronze? Would he do that? Would Crucible understand why she left and be patient? Gods, what a muddle! And what did Lanther mean in his last plea?
She wasn’t given more time to think. More arrows rained down around them, and she could see warriors running around the building to cut them off.
The militia and the two freed prisoners bolted into the darkness, Sir Hugh close on their heels. She felt the centaur’s two strong hands on her waist swing her around and throw her up in the air. She landed with a thump on Leonidas’s back and scrambled to find her balance just before he wheeled and sprinted into the driving rain.
The night and storm swallowed them, and the old ruins vanished behind.
16
Into the Plains
At dawn the orgwegul, the officer in charge of the guards at the dragon’s palace, presented himself and his second at the Akkad-Ur’s headquarters to report the escape of the prisoners. In the proud manner of the Tarmak warrior, he did not cringe, complain, grovel, or make excuses. He explained the facts, including the deaths of five Tarmaks, one Solamnic Knight, a dozen slaves, and three militia raiders. He also reported the escape of the Rose Knight and two companions from the prison, and fifteen centaurs and slaves from the pens. He was standing so stiffly that it took his body several moments before it collapsed on the floor next to his head.
The Akkad-Ur gripped his sword and glared at the orgwegul’s second officer. The officer threw back his shoulders, lifted his chin, and waited. There was little tolerance for failure in the forces of the Tarmak emperor.
“You,” the Akkad-Ur said, stabbing the point of the sword toward the waiting warrior. “You and the rest of the guards in your command will report to the Dog Units until such time as I deem you are worthy to return to the ranks. If one word of this escape leaks to the dragon, I will personally flay you alive.”
The warrior bowed, his face stony. Only the tremor in his hands revealed the pent-up feelings he dared not express. The Dog Units were a punishment one step away from death. A position in the emperor’s cohorts afforded a Tarmak advancement, honor, and an opportunity to plunder. The Dog Units were little more than servants who served the cooks, the wagon masters, and the gravediggers. It was almost worse than exile. Stepping over the corpse of his dead commander, he bowed again and departed to give the news to the remaining guards.
When the warrior was gone, the Akkad-Ur shoved his sword at a waiting slave and said, “Remove that body and clean the sword.” He turned back to his officers. Three men who commanded the dekul of thousands and one black-clad Keena priest stood around his table.
“What of the dragon?” asked one of the dekegul. “If he learns the woman has fled, he may try to break the spell of the dart.”
“We will keep that news from him as long as possible. If he learns the truth and grows intractable, we will remind him of the Abyssal Lance.”