“Light,” Jerdren demanded, and one of the Keep men broke out a candle lantern and flint and tinder.
An odd lot, Jerdren thought as he peered into the celclass="underline" three hobgoblins, two gnolls and—yes, a bugbear. And a wild-looking, wild-eyed man, who blinked and threw up an arm to shield his face from the light. The bugbear grumbled as his chains tightened, and the man kicked at him.
“Die of it, ye filth,” he growled.
Jerdren grinned.
“Wouldn’t be a feller named Hebold, would you?” he asked.
“Might be. Who asks?”
“Fellow who’s talked to a merchant named Zebos. Fellow who was rescued from hobgoblins a while back, just around here. Said he’d appreciate if we found you and got you out.”
The man stared at him for a long moment, then began to laugh. “Beats all, how the luck follows a man! Aye, I’m Hebold, all right. Break me out of this foul pit, and I’m for another chance to smite a few monsters.”
“I’ll see you get it,” Jerdren said. He finally had the right key, and the lock turned easily. “But what about these others?”
“Don’t speak Kobold or Gnoll myself, but he does.” Hebold indicated the bugbear with a jerk of his head. “And, being here as long as I have, I’ve picked up enough Bugbear to get by on. He’s in for leading a revolt against their chief. Was a lot more of ’em, but they’re all gone now. Likely dead and probably eaten as well. Him and them other creatures have been planning how to get free, kill what bugbears are still around here. I was trying to get ’em to take me along, but not getting too far.” He grinned fiercely. “Seems they don’t think a man’s strength counts for much, compared to theirs, and they weren’t too sure they could trust me.”
“Would you trust them, if we were to let ’em out of here?” Jerdren asked.
The man shrugged. Didn’t know or didn’t care, perhaps.
“Mead!” Jerdren called out, and when the mage came up, he explained. “Any way to tell if we can trust ’em not to pick a fight with us if we loose ’em?”
“They’ll die if they stay here,” the mage said. “They’ll starve, if nothing else. Wait.” He stepped into the cell, squatted down, his hands moving in a curious gesture as he asked a question in some language Jerdren didn’t know. The hobgoblins sat up straight, and one of them replied, the words spilling from it. The gnolls spoke then, more haltingly. The bugbear merely growled deep in his throat.
“I asked if they would fight bugbears if we released and armed them. They said yes, and they told the truth.”
“Great,” Jerdren said. “I think. Someone find these fellows weapons! Those dead guards won’t be needing theirs.”
“I will go talk to the others,” Mead said and strode down to the far end of the chamber. Jerdren ran through a number of keys before he found the one to free the chain from the wall and then the one to undo the shackles. Hebold came into the passage blinking and stretching.
He was a big man, Jerdren realized: as tall as he, but half again as broad through the shoulders, and his neck was massive. Hair paler gold than Eddis’ was tangled wildly with a red-gold beard and moustache that Jerdren thought must ordinarily be very neatly trimmed. His eyes were an unexpected brown—so pale as to be nearly tan.
“By Kord, it feels good to move again. I owe you a life, man. Now, where’s these bugbears?” he added eagerly.
“Soon,” Jerdren promised as they started back toward the entry. “There’s a few more prisoners there. We’ll free them before we move on.” A look assured him that Kadymus had the cell open.
Mead emerged moments later, two wan-looking men following him, and an assortment of thinnish kobolds, goblins, and orcs stumbling in their wake. A dwarf came last. He gazed down at the dead bugbears and spat, then reached into the mess to come up with a battle-axe. His eyes gleamed as he patted the haft.
“All clear down there?” Jerdren asked.
Kadymus nodded.
“All right, let’s do this fast. Mead, you translate for me. You prisoners don’t owe us a thing, but if you want to help us, there is a guard room or a barracks up the passage from here, beyond the stairs. We believe all the other guards here are dead. The chief’s wife is dead, but he went out a secret door, and our priest says there’s a minotaur on the other side. Now, he may have run, but I think myself he’s gone to find help. Any who want to come with us when we leave here, so long as you swear not to harm us, you can do that. We’ll know if you lie. Any who want to stay and fight—that’s your choice.”
“Minotaur!” Hebold’s eyes gleamed.
Jerdren winked at Eddis, who sighed. “Any of you men, or you, dwarf, who want to stay with us, we’ll arm and feed you best we can, and see you’re rewarded for helping us. We’re doing our best to cleanse these caves, though. You might find yourselves dead, just as any of us might.”
“Better than what the bugbears offered,” one of the men said.
“For a chance to avenge my murdered clansmen?” the dwarf demanded in a harsh voice. “But I am armed already, human. This axe was taken from me when I was brought here, ten days ago.”
“Good. Stay with us, and stay close,” Jerdren ordered. “We’re getting out of here and back to our camp, fast as we can. We’ll talk then.”
The kobolds, the bugbear, and gnolls needed no urging to attack the remaining bugbears. Jerdren led the way up the stairs then stood aside to let them race up the passage. He grinned at the ensuing howls of surprise and pain. There was a very brief clash of weapons up the sloping passage. Eddis tapped his shoulder and gestured the other way, then started out at a long-legged stride for the outside world, Flerys right on her heels, and M’Baddah behind the child. Kadymus, a heavy sword in one hand and a bugbear mace in the other, came on behind them.
They made the outside without incident, but the sky was a dirty black. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and a muddy flare of lighting briefly lit the clouds, somewhere to the south. More thunder—distant, for the moment, but by the wind and the look of the sky, the storm was moving straight for them.
“Not good!” Eddis had to raise her voice to be heard above the wail of wind over stone and through trees. “We’d better find shelter, unless we’re going to run all the way back to camp! But under all those trees is the worst place to be in a storm like this!”
“It’s not that close!” Jerdren replied. “If we go now….”
He looked back to make sure everyone was out of the cave. The rest of his company—their company—was out. Two of the hobgoblins, one bleeding from a head wound, came into the open and tore down the hill, running as fast as they could for level ground.
Hebold was staring all around him, teeth bared in a fierce smile. “Know this place,” the man said suddenly. “There’s orcs over yonder—east of here. The filth. I owe ’em something.”
He swung around jerkily, waved an arm. The rebel bugbear came into the open, two bugbear heads dangling from one hand, a heavy broadsword in the other. The gnolls were with him. Hebold shouted something Jerdren couldn’t understand, slapped his chest with the axe, and took off running. The bugbear threw aside his trophies and followed, the gnolls and a hobgoblin loping after.
Blorys stared after them. “He’s mad!”
“No,” Jerdren said. “Angry. Do you suppose we should go after—”
“You’re the madman, Jers!” Eddis yelled. “We’ve got wounded, we’ve got rescued prisoners, and there’s a bugbear chief probably making a deal with a minotaur right now, and it’s not gonna be good for us if we’re here when that deal’s made! We are not in any shape just now to take on a twisty cavern full of orcs!” Tense silence, which she broke. “That—that ‘hero’ doesn’t have any responsibility except to himself, Jers! You and I have others depending on us not to get them killed for no good purpose, remember?”