Chapter 10 Chapter 12

- Chapter 11: Escape -

Jarik grimaced as his foot scuffed a rock loudly in the dark dirt alleyway. Instantly, they all froze. They heard no other sounds, however, and moved on.

The five crept furtively between the battered adobe buildings. Borig led his mother and sister while Jarik and Burgan trailed behind watching for soldiers. Jarik fingered his new blade, a solid broadsword the Underground had stolen from the soldiers a couple months previous. They were all armed; even Alera and Kalia carried short swords. Somehow it hadn't surprised him that the women were more than adept at swordfighting.

Borig signaled that the next street was clear. They dashed across and had almost made it to the opposite alley when someone shouted behind them. Burgan cursed vehemently beneath his breath. Jarik understood the big fisherman's frustration. They had tried escaping out of the city through the gates, through the sewers, and by boat from the docks but had found all routes too heavily guarded.

Now they would try the walls. If they could get there. Burgan stopped as they passed a corner and peered behind. Quickly the older man ducked back, waving Jarik and the others flat against the wall. All silently drew their swords.

Suddenly, two solders edged around the corner. Burgan's sword swept down, cleaving through one soldier's leather armor. But the other soldier shouted as he parried Jarik's thrust while meeting Borig's downstroke with a clang from his shield. A stab in the side by Kalia, however, proved fatal.

"Quickly," Alera called out. "Let's move before more soldiers find our trail." She darted down the street without waiting for a response.

The others ran to catch up. Jarik heard the pounding slap of booted feet pursuing, sounds which grew louder each moment. Ahead the others rounded another corner. He glanced over his shoulder. No one there yet. He heaved a sigh of relief.

Turning the corner, he nearly ran into Kalia as she and the others huddled together. Jarik could see by the disconcerted looks on their faces that something was wrong.

"What is it?" he asked, panting.

Borig frowned nervously. "The soldiers are now between us and where we're headed. We've gotta get past 'em somehow."

"Well, let's not stand here and let 'em find us!" hissed Jarik.

Burgan patted his sword hilt. "We didn't bring these along for no reason."

"He's right," agreed Borig. "Come on. Let's go this way." He turned and started up the street, the others following.

As they stepped around the next building, a sudden shout from behind sent them running again as the soldiers spotted them. They darted down several narrow, dusty alleyways, dodging stray cats and refuse in the moonless, cloudless night.

Borig turned and stepped into another dark street between two tall, rundown houses. He ran a few steps and then grimaced as he noticed the city wall suddenly looming up in front of them.

"Demon's Eye!" Kalia swore. "You led us into a dead end!"

"No time to argue!" growled Burgan. "Here come the soldiers!"

As they drew their swords once more, a squad of several soldiers burst around the corner. Jarik knew they were trapped. As he swung his sword at one soldier, he wished Keir was at his side. The sword struck the soldier full in the chest. Jarik's fury rose. He would not fail. Keir would have a kingdom. His sword smashed another soldier, severing an arm. As the soldier stared in surprise at his bloody stump, Jarik's backswing slashed through the man's ribs.

But then Burgan toppled over. The soldiers immediately pressed their advantage, forcing the fugitives back towards the wall.

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Jarik spotted a dark figure rushing into the midst of Savonna's men. Steel flashed briefly as the tall brawny figure struck down two soldiers. As the others hesitated, the rebels attacked, quickly dispatching the remaining soldiers. Then Jarik turned to face their rescuer.

"Hilg!" he cried, recognizing the familiar face. As he threw his arms around the big man, he asked, "But how did you ever get out of the sewers?"

Before the blond-haired Northerner could answer, Borig cried out, "Over here! Burgan's still alive!" Jarik whirled.

The fisherman groaned as Alera tried to staunch the blood flowing from his wounded side with a piece ripped from her blouse.

"Leave me," he muttered. "That bloodsuckin' rabble is on to you."

Borig's face was firm. "No, Burgan. You're coming with us."

Burgan grimaced as Alera knotted the strip. "Don't be a fool, Borig. You ain't gonna make it with me." He looked up at Hilg. "Besides, you got this rebel to take my place."

"You're the fool, Burgan," said Alera. "I'll carry you myself if I have to."

The fisherman frowned. "I can walk. Ain't no woman gonna carry ol' Burgan." He reached his hands up to Borig and Jarik and they carefully pulled him to his feet. He tried a few steps and stumbled, but Borig caught him before he hit the ground.

"All right Borig, you can help me." He glared at Alera and Kalia. "But I don't want no female help."

There were cries in the distance. "Let's go," hissed Alera. "This way."

They crept along the street paralleling the wall. The sounds of pursuit kept coming closer. Suddenly, a clamor arose behind them as the scene of the fight was discovered.

"O holy Evesthar," Jarik moaned. "How much farther, Alera?"

"Four more houses, I think. Pray we make it. We can't afford for the soldiers to find out which building we enter."

Jarik nodded. He glanced over one shoulder but couldn't see any soldiers yet in the darkness. Ahead of him Alera halted.

"This is it," she whispered hoarsely as Kalia lightly rapped the old, battered wooden door of a tall apartment building. Much of the plaster had chipped away, exposing the bricks beneath. They waited for several moments, hearts pounding, before the door creaked open to reveal a black hallway. Jarik locked arms with Borig to lift Burgan up over the threshold. As the door was shut and latched behind them, the rebel wondered if the soldiers had spotted them.

Then hands were pressing him roughly through another door into a lightless apartment, silently guiding he and Borig to a cot where they gingerly laid Burgan. Others peered nervously through cracks in the shuttered windows, looking for soldiers. Their dark shapes blocked what little light filtered through the broken shutters. Finally, as the soldiers marched past the house, the tension eased.

Alera spoke softly with one of their hosts, who quickly agreed to take care of Burgan until he'd healed. They said goodbye to the fisherman, then turned to follow one of the men out of the apartment and up a handful of flights of rickety stairs.

The stairways were empty save for rats and spiders, though their guide halted several times, hand cupped to his ear. At those moments, Jarik ceased breathing as he wondered what the man heard. They reached the trap door leading to the roof without incident, however. With Hilg's aid, the guide gently slid the door, then was boosted up and out by the big Northerner.

Jarik followed, but even as he scrambled to his feet, a sudden loud flapping startled him, and he lurched, nearly falling back through the trap door. Half expecting to see a sword flashing towards his neck, he glanced up and exhaled, relieved at seeing only a large bird winging away.

"Bloodsucking carrion," hissed the guide as he helped Jarik back to his feet. Then they turned to help the rest gain the flat roof. A low parapet surrounded the roof, allowing them to crawl to the edge and peer over at the city wall little more than a body length away. They watched the wall for a couple of minutes, checking for any soldiers or priests who might be patrolling the ramparts. None were spotted.

The guide grabbed a nearby board and slid it out over the courtyard four stories below until it reached the wall-walk. Quickly they dashed across. Hilg, having gone first, was already looping a thick rope around a merlon of the curtained wall. The end was tossed over, Borig scrambling over the edge with it. The others followed until finally Jarik reached the ground. The rope whooshed back up, the guide returning to his apartment.

Alera turned to Jarik. "How far away are your men?"

Jarik gazed out over the wide, flat delta of the Aria River towards the dark ridges of the distant hills. "Eight, maybe nine miles." He looked at Hilg. "How many nights has it been since we entered the city?"

"Five. The amount of time we told them to give us. They leave with the horses at dawn."

Jarik nodded, turning back to Alera. "We must reach them before the sun rises or else we're on our own."

Alera grimaced. "Even if I ran, I couldn't make it. Could one of you go ahead and hold them up?"

He glanced at Hilg, who shrugged as if to say 'I guess so.'

"Very well," Jarik said. "I'll go. Hilg, you stay with them but don't lag behind. You'll most likely be spotted on these plains once the sun comes up." He turned to go.

"I'm coming with you," announced Kalia. Jarik looked back, startled.

"Can you keep the pace I set? There's no more than two hours 'til dawn."

Kalia tossed her long black hair behind her, laughing. "I can outrun any man." Without waiting for a response, she began jogging towards the hills.

Jarik shrugged and turned towards the others, eyebrows raised. "I don't have much choice, do I?" The others chuckled as he took off after her.

They ran in silence across the dry grassy fields for nearly a turn until perspiration soaked their tunics. Kalia stayed ahead of Jarik until they neared the hills, finally halting long enough for him to catch up. Jarik had watched her effortless, graceful stride appreciatively. He'd known few women of beauty who possessed such physical ability, but none matched this Kalia. He reflected over their brief conversations the past three days as they'd waited to escape Ducor Adta-Hars. They'd been terse but he'd seen a deep affection and fear for her missing father and a strong love for her mother and brother. She was dedicated to the cause of overthrowing Savonna and had done much of the work to establish the Underground in Ducor Adta-Hars. She'd mentioned more than once how much she hated the thought of leaving her work in the hands of others but her mother had convinced her it was necessary.

Kalia smiled and pushed back a damp strand of hair as he caught up. It was the first time he'd seen her really smile.

"I'm glad to finally see a man who's not afraid to be beaten by a woman," she said.

Jarik frowned, surprised. "I didn't realize we were competing."

She appeared startled. "You weren't trying to beat me?"

He ignored her question, glancing back instead. "I can't see the others, can you?"

Kalia glared, but looked anyway. "No, but I'm sure they're out there."

Nodding absently, Jarik remarked, "It's nearly dawn and we've still got almost a mile." Then he grinned and pointed. "To that copse at the hill?"

She laughed. "Is this a challenge or just an excuse to lag behind again?"

"You tell me when we get there," said Jarik as he resumed running.

Quickly, Kalia caught up and passed him. Jarik fell in behind her, staying within a couple strides. She glanced back and he waved. Immediately she increased her speed and he had to push himself to keep up but when she looked back again and saw him still trailing closely, she seemed irritated.

His lungs ached and his legs were burning but he wasn't about to quit. They were nearing the copse quickly. He struggled to stay with her as she tried to sprint. Then, with a final effort, he moved around her, running faster than he'd ever gone before. They were even, stride for stride, but with a sudden burst of speed, she exploded past and reached the copse several strides ahead.

Panting, he jogged into the midst of the trees, sweat dripping from his head, and flopped to the ground.

Kalia looked awed, her dark eyes wide. "I've never been pushed like that before. No man's ever kept up with me."

Jarik laughed weakly, still gasping as his breath came back. "Believe me, I've never run like that either."

She dropped down beside him. "Aren't you upset, having a woman beat you?"

He shook his head and was about to say something when there was a sudden movement in the bushes. They both drew their swords and tried to stand on wobbly legs.

"Commander! Is that you without a beard?" cried a tall thin man, his long blond hair dangling past his shoulders and a thick rough-shorn beard brushing his chest. "It is, I see. You've finally returned!"

Jarik grinned as he ran fingers along his stubbly chin.. "Lorgal! I sure am glad to see you! Means I can grow this back again. Do you and Cualan have those horses ready?"

"Yes, sir." Lorgal frowned as he noticed Kalia. "Where's Captain Sveinsson and the rest of Black Muraga's family?"

"They're behind us." Jarik looked out over the plain at the sky. A smudge of sun crested the Eastern Ocean, silhouetting the three tiny figures on the plain. "Get the horses. If they've been seen, they'll have Savonna's soldiers or priests of The Voryaki on their tail!"

A minute later they were riding on the plain towards the other three. Lorgal and Cualan, a short brawny man with a bald pate and a thick red beard, had brought five extra horses. Shortly after bursting onto the plain, they spotted Hilg, Alera and Borig more than a mile away. But a mile or so farther behind were at least twenty mounted men closing rapidly, their armor glinting dimly.

Spurring their horses on, they galloped towards their friends, the hooves of their steeds like thunder on the grassy plain. By now it was obvious to Jarik that both their friends and the soldiers had spotted their approach. Borig and Hilg seemed to be practically carrying Alera between them as they ran towards Jarik and Kalia. The soldiers, however, appeared to gallop at even a greater speed than before.

The rescuers were closer though, swooping down on the three and raising a large dust cloud as they reined in their horses. Borig and Hilg tossed Alera up on one horse before mounting the other two empty saddles. But the approaching soldiers were no more than a hundred paces away. Jarik slapped his steed's flank. The horse responded and they were off once more for the hills. He knew that if they could reach the hills they'd be safe, for his men were hidden not far inside. But if they were caught out on this open plain, what then? Jarik forced the thought down and concentrated on making the hills.