Volume Nine
Chapter
Eight
Clean
Getaway
In which Dodger finds a little
unexpected help
Dodger
eyed the tree line and waited, counting the heartbeats rising in his throat. One.
Two. Three. Thankfully, a hail of arrows failed to follow the single, well
placed shot. Dodger looked back down to the arrow, and the sharp edge
protruding from the post.
“Are
we under attack or not?” Lelanea asked.
“Whoever
he is,” Dodger said. “I think he deliberately missed.” Dodger twisted back, as
far as he could, to get a good look at the camp behind them.
The
dwarves had settled down completely. Too completely for a group of traveling
thieves. Each dwarf lay in a collapsed heap, all across the camp, snoring their
little heads off. None kept watch. No one maintained the fire. It was as if
they fell asleep where they stood or sat.
“They
are all asleep,” Dodger said.
“The
porridge,” Lelanea said.
“I
would guess. Someone else must’ve spiked the whole batch, not just our
helping.” Dodger leaned away from the post and lifted his arms behind him,
rubbing his bindings against the metal tip of the arrow. In a few motions, he
could feel the rope slipping away. He pulled his hands out of the twists of
hemp, and rubbed at his raw wrists.
“Quick,
undo me,” Lelanea said.
“Yes,
ma’am.” Dodger picked at the complex knots that held the wolf in place. The
dwarves had taken extra care to bind Lelanea tight, lest she gnaw through it
before they returned. It took longer than he would’ve liked, but soon enough he
had her free as well.
The
wolf stood to her full height and shook out her fur. “That is so much better.
Thank you.”
“Don’t
thank me,” Dodger said. “Thank our mysterious liberator.”
Lelanea
looked to the trees from which the shot came. “Where do you suppose he is?”
“With
luck, he’s helping Sir Rodger and Boon escape.”
“Shall
we go and see?”
Dodger
nodded and motioned for Lelanea to go on first. This wasn’t a cowardly move,
sending the lady into danger ahead of him. It was common sense. She could see
far better in the dark than Dodger, and he trusted her heightened sense of
smell to lead the way. Lelanea took his hint, and headed out in an arc around
the camp proper, a clever move to keep from tramping straight across the
sleeping dwarves. Dodger fell in behind her, making an effort to keep his footsteps
as silent as possible, though he still came off like a herd of elephants
compared to Lelanea’s delicate steps. The pair of them picked their way around
the slumbering crowd, the wolf sniffing the air and ground, until they spotted
their goal. Sir Rodger and Boon were bound to another post on the opposite end
of the camp.
Boon
rocked back and forth in place, whispering, “He said I would know when. Is this
the when? I just don’t know.”
Sir
Rodger didn’t answer his post mate. Instead, his mouth hung open with his chin
resting on his chest and drool running down the length of his flannel shirt as
he snored loudly.
“Boon?”
Lelanea whispered.
Boon
snapped his face up to the wolf. “Lelanea? Are you all right? Did they harm you?”
“I’m
fine. Now, hold still so Dodger can untie you.”
“I
see our valiant knight ate the porridge,” Dodger said as he worked on Boon’s ropes.
“He
did,” Boon said. “I warned him not to. But he wouldn’t listen.”
“You
knew it was poisoned, though.”
“I
wasn’t sure, but I was suspicious.”
“Good
call. I was lucky enough to have Lelanea to warn me. She smelled it right away.”
“That’s
not-” Lelanea started.
“But
I knew you’d figure it out,” Dodger said over her.
Rubbing
his wrists, Boon asked, “How did you two escape?”
Dodger
let Lelanea tell the tale while he set to untying the sleeping knight.
“Do
you think he is still here?” Boon said once Lelanea was finished.
“I
hope so,” Dodger said. “I want to thank him for-”
“Speak
of the devil,” Lelanea said.
“And
his imp shall appear,” Boon said. He motioned to the tree line behind Dodger.
Dodger
turned about to see the outline of a short figure accompanied by the large
shadow of a horse, presumably Sir Rodger’s nag. The man raised a hand, waving
the others toward him.
“What
do you think?” Dodger said. “Can we trust him?”
“I
reckon we owe him some thanks,” Boon said as he stood, stretching his long legs
and cracking his back. “After all, he could’ve killed us when he had the
chance.”
“What
do we do with him?” Lelanea asked, nodding to Sir Rodger.
Boon
answered by lifting the knight and heaving him over one shoulder.
“Come
on,” Dodger said. “Let’s not keep our guest waiting.”
Lelanea
headed up the group, slinking away from the camp in almost silent steps. Dodger
followed, trailed by the larger and less quiet Boon. Though, to be truthful,
they probably could’ve sung a couple of rounds of How Dry I Am and not have
woken a single dwarf from the sound of the little ones’ loud snores.
Once
they reached the stranger, Boon tossed the knight onto the horse’s back. Sir
Rodger wallowed about a bit, groaning and mumbling something about the sorry
state of beds in the castle, before he settled down and returned to his
rhythmic snore. Boon made to say something, but the stranger hushed him into
silence, then motioned to a canvas bag hanging from the back of the saddle.
Boon opened the sack and peeked inside. With a grin he pulled out Dodger’s gun
belt, followed by his own, as well as the few odds and ends the two of them
were carrying. Once this was done the stranger turned the horse about and
walked away without a word to the other three captives.
“Should
we follow him?” Boon asked.
“Her,”
Lelanea said.
Boon
glanced to the retreating figure slipping into the shadows. “Are you certain?”
“I
am and I think we should follow her. We are strangers to this land and she is
the closest thing we have to a guide right now.”
“True.
Either way, we need to get as far away from those dwarves as we can before they
wake up and realize we are gone.”
“I
can solve that,” Dodger said as he slipped a blade from his boot. “I’ll make a
round of the camp, and slit their throats while they’re sleeping.” Dodger
stared out across the immobile bodies and licked his lips, the promise of so
much death whetting his hunger for destruction. Feeling the pressure of eyes on
him, he looked back to the other two.
Lelanea
and Boon stared at him, saying nothing. They didn’t have to speak. Their
revulsion was palpable.
“What?”
Dodger asked. “If we kill them now, they won’t be able to pursue us. Problem
solved.”
“Geesh,
Dodger,” Boon said. “Ain’t that a bit, I don’t know, harsh?”
“I
… I just thought …” Dodger stopped and looked down at his blade. What was he
thinking? He was thinking like an assassin, that’s what. Defending yourself
during an open attack was one thing, but slitting the throats of a dozen
unarmed sleeping men was another. It was the old Dodger speaking. No, it was
more like Tyler Crank. Dodger pushed the blade back into the small scabbard
inside his boot. “We best catch up with our friend before she leaves us
behind.”
“Aye,”
Lelanea said. “That we should.” She turned her nose to the task of finding the
stranger’s path.
The
three caught up with the mystery woman about a mile down the road. She stood at
a crossroads with a lantern in one hand, raised up to the signs. Now that they
were away from the shadows of the campfire, Dodger could see just how feminine she
was; slight of build, slender at the waist and standing a little less than five
feet. The woman dressed in a simple pair of cotton trousers and a matching
tunic. She also sported a cowl complete with a deep hood that masked her face
as she turned to greet the approaching three. As she turned Dodger noted just
how slight of build she really was, for she barely bore any bosom to speak of.
“Hail
there,” Boon said. “We didn’t get a chance to thank you for setting us free.”
The
stranger nodded under her hood, but said nothing.
“That
was a very brave thing for a young woman,” Lelanea said.
The
hood drooped as the owner lowered her head.
“Who
are you?” Dodger asked.
The
stranger took a few steps back, as if ready to flee from the scene.
“What
Arnold means,”
Boon said, “is we haven’t had a chance to introduce ourselves.” Boon pointed to
each person in turn as he announced them. “I’m Washington Boon, this is Lelanea
Dittmeyer, that is Arnold Carpenter, and the fellow on the horse is Sir Rodger
Dodger.”
“He’s
a knight,” Dodger said.
“I
know,” the woman said in a meek voice.
“He’s
looking for the princess.”
“I
know.” The second time she spoke she lowered her tone to a gravely pitch in an
obvious attempt to disguise her voice.
“Maybe
you can help him,” Boon said. “He got a hold of some of that porridge.”
“I
assume you put the sleeping compound in it?” Lelanea asked.
“Potion,”
the stranger said. “It’s magic.”
“Magic,”
Lelanea said. “Of course. Can you break the spell on him?”
The
stranger shook her head.
“He’ll
have to sleep it off?” Boon asked.
The
stranger nodded.
“I
guess we should just keep going,” Boon said.
“Do
you know where we the princess is supposed to be?” Dodger asked.
“Poison Peak,”
the stranger said, pointing to the distance. “It’s at the top of Mount Doom.”
Dodger
huffed. Why was everything in this place named so morbidly?
“Can
you get us there?” Boon said. “I’m sure Sir Rodger would be grateful if we kept
a move on while he sleeps it off.”
The
stranger nodded. “I can take you there.”
The
more she spoke, Dodger realized her voice wasn’t just meek, it was young. As in
the voice of a child. No matter how low she spoke, she couldn’t disguise that
childlike pitch at the edge of her words. That’s when it all began to make
sense. Short in stature. Delicate voice. Lack of bosom. What kind of kid would
be wandering around in the dark in the middle of a danger filled forest?
Better
still, what kind of kid could handle a bow with such finesse?
“We
aren’t going anywhere,” Dodger said. He pulled a gun and took aim for the kid
without readying his weapon. He didn’t plan on actually shooting her, just
scare her a bit. “Not until she tells us who she is.”
The
stranger didn’t raise her hands, but she didn’t go for her own weapons, either.
She just continued to stare at Dodger through the shadow of her hood.
“What
has gotten into you?” Lelanea said.
“She
was kind enough to free us,” Boon said. “Put that thing away before someone
gets hurt.”
“While
I appreciate the assistance in escape,” Dodger said. “I won’t risk the safety
of my crew by following some child into the wilderness.”
“Child?”
Boon asked.
“Dodger,”
Lelanea said. “She may be young, but she’s still our best chance to figure out
where Sarah is.”
“I
reckon she can do more than that,” Dodger said. “I reckon she can end this
little game right now. Can’t you, Princess?”
Sarah
swallowed hard enough for Dodger to hear the gulp from where he stood.
No comments:
Post a Comment