William withdrew the sword, expecting the jailer to fall. The burly draconian's clawed hands grabbed the table for support and, with a low guttural cry, kicked out at William. The innkeeper moved swiftly out of danger, then slashed his blade against his opponent's throat. He tried to pull back his weapon, but the blade seemed stuck into gristle or bone.
"Quick!" snapped Sintk. "Pull it out! He'll turn to stone."
William mustered all his strength with both hands on the hilt and pulled the sword free. Green blood spurted out onto the draconian's tunic. A sidelong glance showed William that the minotaur and Sintk had the other jailer on the floor. The dwarf's blade was buried deep into the draconian's belly.
The draconians made feeble dying motions. William stepped over his victim and grabbed a large ring of keys off a wooden peg on the wall.
"The prisoners are over here!" hissed the dwarf. "Come quick! Bring the keys."
At the end of one of the corridors they found a large cell carved out of solid stone with heavy metal bars and a large locked door.
Dozens of prisoners were crowded up against the front of the cell. Gaunt and skeletal, ragged and hungry, they were the living dead, marked for torture or execution. Their crimes had been petty: pickpocket-ing, insulting a draconian, trying to escape Port Bali-for. Now they stretched out raw, bony fingers, pleading for help.
"Hurry, lads, hurry!" said Tom the tailor, pushing to the front.
"Bless you," husked another prisoner.
"Shut up!" growled the minotaur. "You'll have the whole army down on us."
Everyone was silent as William fumbled with the ring, fitting one, then another of the large metal keys into the lock. Just as he began to think none of the keys would fit, the heavy door swung free. William stepped back as the first prisoner stepped out on wobbly legs into the smoky passageway.
Altogether, there were maybe fifty of them, lucky to be still alive. They bunched together, pathetically, waiting for a command from William.
Old Tom the tailor squinted through the dimness at his masked rescuers. He pointed his finger at William and raised his voice so the others could hear. "That's William of the Pig and Whistle. He had the courage to help us. And Sintk the cobbler. And no one can mistake Halum the minotaur over there."
"Keep moving," snapped Halum, "and save your jabber."
The stone floor of the main guardroom was slippery with green blood from the dead draconians. William almost slipped in the sticky blood, then righted himself and took the lead. Pressing his fingers against his lips for silence, William started up the staircase.
Then he lurched to a halt. Directly above him, coming down, was Drago and three hobgoblin lieutenants. They were armed with swords and battle-axes, which they waved ominously in anticipation of blood-letting. Drago was eagerly walking ahead of his three wary pals. He glared directly at William, but in his eyes was no recognition.
"Come on! Come on!" sneered Drago, his mouth twisted viciously. "We don't often have visitors here. We would like to make your stay a memorable-and long-one."
Hastily, William and the prisoner horde retreated backward into the central guardroom, where they huddled at the bottom of the stairwell. They were trapped. Sintk raised his weapon.
From above, William could hear the troops of the dragonarmy being roused into action. A horn blew in the distance. The thud of heavy boots sounded on stone steps and corridors. Doors slammed, shouts blared and echoed as troops came hurrying into the entry room above. Harum motioned the others to stay back and crept up to stand by the door to the guardroom, his back pressed against the wall.
The first to poke his head in through the doorway was the fierce, eager Drago. The captain of the prison guards held his battle-axe at shoulder height, ready to strike out at anyone who came into view.
As Drago reached the lower stairway, the mino-taur's arm shot out with a quick movement, and his strong fingers fastened on Drago's neck. Harum's powerful arms propelled the draconian brute across the room. Led by Sintk, the prisoners leaped on the draconian, pummeling him with their bare hands. Sintk finished the brute with a swift dagger stroke.
Hearing nothing from their leader, the three hobgoblins hesitated on the stairs, then came to an abrupt halt. The soldiers behind them were bottled up in the stairwell, but they too were not anxious to enter the guardroom and face the aroused minotaur. But it would only be a matter of time…
Meanwhile, William had noticed that the torches on the wall of the guardroom were flickering-and always in the same direction and it wasn't coming from the door! Crawling along the wall, he discovered a draft whistling around a huge block of stone. Pushing against it, he found it opened into a dark passage.
"This way!" he yelled.
Everyone scrambled after him. The passageway was dark and spooky. Maintaining a fast pace, William led them for several hundred yards, until he saw a silver fingernail of moonlight. He gestured for them to pull up.
William crept up to a barred outlet that looked out onto a moonlit landscape. The tunnel exit was near the sea and the wind was directed into the tunnel by a curving stone sea wall. Across the flat plain could be seen the winking lights of Port Balifor, no more than half a mile in the distance.
Unfortunately, their escape was barred by a heavy metal grating that covered the end of the tunnel.
"We're trapped," said Sintk.
Tom the tailor began to moan.
"They're following," warned a kender among the prisoners. The firm voice of the commander could be heard ordering his troops into the tunnels.
"Let me see those bars," said Harum, pushing forward.
The minotaur came up alongside William, and his massive hands began to test the metal barrier. Finally he said, "Stand back." Harum placed his shoulder against one side of the bars. The moonlight gave a thin, gray cast to the top of the minotaur's face. Then, he sucked in a deep breath through his mask.
Harum's shoulder put mighty pressure on the bars. He grunted and strained to tear the metal away from the stone sockets. Once, twice, Harum threw every ounce of his strength against the barrier.
"They're coming this way!" cried Sintk.
Everyone looked back and saw the flare of torches moving into the tunnel.
"To the rear!" exclaimed William bravely to Sintk. He took the dwarf's arm, and they pressed through the prisoners, swords ready for defense.
Now, the minotaur tried the other side of the bars. They were also unyielding. He made several mighty lunges and, once, the metal bent-but still remained fast in the stone.
Exasperated, the minotaur told everyone to get back. "Give me some running room," he spat.
Harum ran back through the tunnel, stopping within sight of the forward line of searching troops. The soldiers sent up a mighty roar of yells and curses. Unmindful of them, Harum El-Halop dropped down into a sprinter's position. Giving of roar of his own, he ran forward, gaining speed with each step. Then, just before he reached the iron barrier, Harum twisted his body and leaped into the air. He flew backward and struck the bars with a sickening thud.
The bars gave a metallic screech and jerked loose from their sockets in the walls. Everyone cheered as the barrier fell out onto the ground. Harum went rolling across the ground, kicking up dust in the pale moonlight. He came up on his feet with a snort.
"Get the bars back in place," William yelled as the fleeing prisoners streamed out of the tunnel.
Sintk led the others in raising the bars, while William and the minotaur raced to grab the end of a large piece of old timber. Everyone helped to wedge the timber so it would hold the bars tight.
Seconds later, the dragonarmy troops came rushing up to the barred exit. They howled and roared, pounding against the bars, as the companions sped off into the night.