Flight

 

"Send him out!" the howling voice continued. "We only want the half-orc! We don't need to roast all of you in your little wood oven!"

Barking laughter followed.

"I don't think he means it," Naull said grimly.

"What?" Eoghan asked anxiously. "Whatever that is, it'll burn my whole place down!"

Regdar turned to the near-frantic innkeeper and said, "That's not what she meant. Whatever that is, it'll burn this place down whether we send Krusk out or not."

The half-orc paused in his tracks. He was halfway to the door, but Regdar's words stopped him.

"Yes," the barbarian growled, almost to himself. "They burned Kalpesh ... they'll burn here as well."

"Then what can we do?" the innkeeper almost wailed.

The look on the fighter's face told Naull he was wrestling with that question already. Regdar shook his head and moved to the door, peering carefully through one of the cracks. Something thudded into the wood and he leaped back.

"I can't see them; it's too dark. I don't know who they are."

"They're gnolls."

The assemblage turned and looked at the stairs. It was Ian. Soot stained his bandaged arm. Their attackers had fired flaming arrows into the top floor, too, but the half-elf and the villagers extinguished the small blazes.

"I saw them through your window, before we shut it. There's at least a dozen of them, maybe more. They all have bows and torches. They've dragged a couple of hay bales from the stable out into the courtyard and set them aflame."

Regdar cursed.

"At least they haven't set the inn on fire, yet," Naull observed hopefully.

A few of the others nodded, but Regdar frowned.

"Why not?" he asked. "I mean, with us yelling and arguing in here, they could've soaked the walls with oil and put a torch to us all. Instead they launch a few fire arrows and this—" he pointed to the scorch mark and the smashed lantern. "What did they do upstairs?"

"A couple of arrows. One caught on your bedding," Ian shrugged. He understood where Regdar was headed. "We put it out with the water from the basin. No problem."

"So, they don't actually want to burn us out. They want Krusk," he nodded at the half-orc. "But they want something else. Otherwise, they'd just fire the inn and catch him when we ran for it. Whatever they want, it's something they can't get if they burn the inn to the ground."

Alhandra looked deliberately at Krusk, who returned her gaze and shook his head. Naull caught the interplay, as did Regdar. Ian actually stepped toward the half-orc, but he put up his hand up when Krusk growled and raised his axe.

"Krusk, no," Alhandra said. "You have to tell them. No one here wants to hurt you, but they have to know."

For a moment the half-orc looked defiant, but then his face collapsed into sorrow, then acceptance. It amazed Naull to see how expressive he was. When he looked defiant or angry, he looked most like the orcs they'd fought and killed, but now he just looked like a sad, ugly man.

Reaching into his chain shirt with one thick hand, he drew out an oilskin packet. Naull nearly smacked her forehead as she recognized the flame symbol on the outside. She had meant to ask Krusk about it when things settled down, but they never did.

Whatever it was, the half-orc valued it highly. When Ian leaned in to get a closer look, the half-orc started to move the packet away protectively, but at a word from Alhandra he stopped and held it up.

Without the flame emblem it would have looked almost exactly like the packet in which Naull kept her important papers, such as their contract with the village. It was a little bulkier, as if a few more things were stuffed into it, but otherwise the same size and shape.

"What's in it?" she asked.

Alhandra started to answer, but Krusk shook his head brusquely.

"It's what Kalpesh... and my friend," he said haltingly, "died for. They can't have it. No one can have it. I must protect it."

"Why? If they were willin' to burn down a whole city," Eoghan suddenly cried, "they'll sure as the Nine Hells burn us alive for it!" Lexi, back from securing the rear door, tried to restrain her husband. He shook her off and continued, "What's so important? Why can't we jus' give it to 'em, so they'll go away?"

Krusk's jaw jutted out as he turned to face the big innkeeper, but he didn't answer immediately. He looked at Alhandra, but she made no move. Naull watched as the half-orc's jaw worked and she felt she saw him come to a decision.

They locked gazes for a moment. Krusk's bulging eyes blinked, and he nodded.

"The City of Fire," he said in a low, rough tone. "The key."

Only those standing immediately around Krusk—Alhandra, Naull, Ian, Regdar, and Eoghan—heard what the half-orc said. The rest of the inn's occupants, only a few feet away, heard the howling of the gnolls outside and their own frightened voices.

Even Early didn't hear Krusk continue in a low voice, "The captain gave this to me to protect. He wanted me to find help and go to the City of Fire before..."

Krusk's voice rasped to a halt, and he looked at their faces again. Trust came hard to the rough outcast, Naull could see. Here he was trying to make a leap of faith with people who, only hours earlier, had nearly lynched him. Naull couldn't imagine what he was experiencing, but she found herself respecting him, and Alhandra as well. Clearly the paladin had connected with the half-orc on some level during their time in the cellar.

"Before she gets it," Krusk finished.

"She?" Regdar asked. "Who is she?"

"A blackguard," Alhandra answered. "He told me. A blackguard of Hextor seeks the key. The gnolls are her creatures."

Eoghan blanched and turned away. It was too much information for the innkeeper to handle. Ian let out a light whistle, but Regdar frowned.

"The City of Fire?" he asked. "I've never heard of it."

Naull reached out and stroked the packet and the flaming symbol. There was something there, she thought, in the back of her mind. Then it clicked. Ancient texts from her apprentice studies came back in a rush and she remembered.

"The City of Fire... I know about this. Krusk, did your friend the captain tell you any other names? Did you hear him say, 'Secrustia Nar,' or did he call it 'the Flamestar of the Desert'?"

The half-orc's eyes widened, and he nodded.

"Se-Secrustia Nar," he pronounced haltingly. "City of Fire's ancient name."

Naull looked around the small group in surprise at the half-orc's pronouncement.

"Don't tell me you've never heard of Secrustia Nar?" The name had Draconic origins, and the stories and legends flooded back. "Don't any of you ever read?"

Alhandra appeared concerned, Ian annoyed, and Regdar amused. Naull looked back at Krusk last and she sobered at his expression.

No, I don't suppose you do, she thought.

Amusement waned quickly for Regdar, however. "Okay, Naull—you're smarter than all of us," he said. "How about letting us in on the joke before the gnolls get impatient."

The gnoll commander, if that's what it was, was shouting again for Krusk to be sent out. More threats and flaming arrows would not be far behind.

"Oh, it's no joke," Naull replied. "It's a legend, and one I don't have time to go into. Do you know the story, Krusk?"

The half-orc gave something of a nodding shrug.

"I only know enough to understand why Krusk doesn't want to give up that packet," Naull continued, "and why we shouldn't, either. Regdar, the City of Fire is ancient. I've heard the earliest settlements around Kalpesh were just traders' way-stations when Secrustia Nar disappeared. It is, or was, one of the oldest cities in this part of the world. It makes sense, I guess, that the key would come to Kalpesh, though," she mused, but then she shook her head. This was no time for history lessons.

"The City of Fire was supposedly a link to another plane. You've heard me talk about other planes, right?"

"Sure," Regdar said. "The Outlands, the Big Ring—"

"The Great Ring," she corrected.

"Right. The elemental planes—"

"Yes!" Naull exclaimed. "The City of Fire, according to everything I've read about it, had a link to the Elemental Plane of Fire. A permanent one, not something like the temporary ones powerful wizards or clerics sometimes set up."

Alhandra looked grim, but Regdar still needed further explanation.

"According to legend," Naull continued, "Secrustia Nar stood between the Elemental Plane of Fire and our plane. Some people call these sorts of places 'pocket dimensions,' but it doesn't matter. What does matter is that the people who lived there were able to command and control incredible elemental forces. They had servants and even armies of fiery beings, and they supposedly dominated this whole part of the world. There are even legends that say Secrustia Nar is why we have a great desert here instead of fertile lands." Her voice grew ominous. "When the City of Fire's rulers couldn't control their servants anymore, the Elemental Plane of Fire swallowed it up, burning the lands around it."

Regdar whistled. "And this key?"

Naull nodded to Krusk, who was listening intently to her story. He added nothing, but she thought she saw him nod once or twice.

"Supposedly," she said, catching Krusk's glance and holding it, "a few of Secrustia Nar's people escaped the disaster. They made a map that told the way back to where the city's primary planar gate once stood, and they kept a key to safely open that gate. Most of the stories say wise clerics of Pelor and Heironeous destroyed the map and hid the key, but I guess that's not the case, is it, Krusk?"

Shaking his head, the half-orc slowly opened the packet. He fumbled inside for a moment, then drew out a strange-looking golden disk. It was shaped like a ball of fire, but flat. As he held it in his gray palm, it glowed slightly, and the carved flames on its outer edge flickered in different colors, from gold to red, then orange and other colors of fire.

"My captain made me memorize the directions to the city. I can find it. I can open the gate with this key, and I can close it forever," he said, finally. The half-orc closed his fist over the flaming disk and looked at each person in the group in turn. "I will do this. I have sworn it."

"I think that's a pretty good idea," Naull agreed.

"No," Regdar disagreed. "Why not just destroy it? Burn the papers and smash the key?"

Naull shook her head. "All the legends—all the stories that talk about destroying the key—say that it isn't easy. Some say the key has been destroyed, several times, but it keeps reforming. Like fire that you put out in one place, only to have it rekindle in another."

"I must close the gate," Krusk said simply.

Something struck the inn's door. This time it was not an arrow, but something heavy. They heard running footsteps retreating down the stairs and away into the courtyard.

"Open your doors!" the gnoll leader howled. "We won't attack, yet! See what is in store for you!"

At Regdar's direction, Early and Alhandra moved to either side of the door. Regdar took up a position directly in front of the door, holding Alhandra's shield before him. At his nod, they opened the door. Something propped against it fell inside. Regdar looked down and saw a burned and bloody corpse.

"Take him in! Look at him! It's what we will do to every villager we find unless you send out the half-orc!" bayed the gnolls' leader. "Send him out! Or look upon your own deaths!"

The pack howled in unison at the threat.

Regdar glared into the darkness, then used his heavy boot to push the corpse out of the door. For a brief moment the jeers of the gnolls stopped. The corpse turned over and rolled down the porch stairs. The gnolls howled again, this time in anger that their taunts hadn't succeeded.

"Vernon..." the innkeeper gasped. He'd watched Regdar from behind the door. "The blacksmith... oh, gods! How could you—"

Eoghan's accusatory tone cut off as Regdar turned toward him, glaring with anger.

"He's dead," Regdar said flatly. "We can't help him, and his corpse is no use to us. We've got to figure a way out of this. Then you can mourn him," the fighter added a little more softly.

Eoghan nodded and deflated slightly.

"I'm going out there!" Early shouted. "We can fight them!"

"You wouldn't get near them," Alhandra said. "They all have bows, and we can barely see them."

"I can see them," Ian said, but he didn't look happy about the idea.

"I can, too," Krusk added. Early looked at the half-orc in surprise. "No more running. I fight."

Early nodded slowly and said, "All right, then! Let's go."

"No," Regdar said. He still stood near the closed door, and he barred their path. "This isn't the way."

Alhandra stepped up to support the fighter, and Naull edged around to one side.

"Then what is the way?" Early asked angrily. "Do you have another plan?"

Regdar didn't answer immediately.

"Are you so eager to die, Early?" Naull asked sarcastically.

Early whirled toward her with a snarl but Alhandra stepped between them.

"Don't be a fool," she said. Her tone made Early stop and gape. "Listen. Think."

The two words seemed to cut the anger out of him, and he fell silent.

After a few long moments, Regdar spoke again, this time loud enough for everyone on the main floor of the inn to hear.

"If we go out there and fight," Regdar said slowly, "we could win. We might kill all the gnolls before they kill all of us."

The fighter let the double impact of that statement sink in. The few villagers still downstairs exchanged uncomfortable glances. Ian shrugged, but he hadn't moved toward the door to support either side.

"But if we don't," Regdar continued, "if they kill all of us instead of just some of us, they'll take a prize back to their leader. A dangerous prize."

He looked over at Krusk. The half-orc looked uncomfortable, but Regdar knew he couldn't sway anyone to the right course of action without giving some reason for it.

"We do believe that the gnolls attacking your village are after one thing. When that thing leaves, they must follow it, and you'll be safe." Some of the villagers muttered uncertainly, but Regdar kept on, "We can take this thing and try to escape with it, but I know that's asking a lot of you. How do you know you aren't just helping us to escape, with you remaining behind to die in the fire?"

More muttering started. Naull shifted uncomfortably but remained silent.

"I have no answer for that," Regdar concluded. "You'll have to trust us."

He looked over at Alhandra, standing tall in her shining armor, then he turned to Krusk. He met the half-orc's eyes and the barbarian nodded, as if Regdar was talking to him, not the villagers.

"I trust you," Ian said. "I'll stay. I can't ride with this, anyway," he said, indicating his bandaged shoulder.

The half-elf looked at Early. The big man's face showed his emotions clearly. He felt anger, pain, and fear, but resolution slowly formed. He stepped over to Ian and held out a large hand. The half-elf took it in his own small grip and pumped it once.

"Me, too," Early said. "This is my village, and I trust you, Regdar." Quietly, he added, "I hope you know what you're doing."

"Me, too," Regdar replied in a low voice. "Here's my plan," he said, gesturing everyone to draw near.

Naull somehow grinned even as the gnolls' howling increased.

 

 

"What's taking so long?" Grawltak barked at Kark.

The older gnoll rounded up two more hapless villagers, a human girl and an old dwarf. They'd already burned the dwarf's beard away—gnolls hated dwarves as much as any of the "civilized" peoples—but they stopped short of killing him.

Maybe I'll use one of my mistress's favorite tortures, Grawltak thought, eying a wagon wheel and thinking of his black-armored leader. Crucifixion seems to impress the soft-skins.

He was about to order the girl stripped and tied to the wagon wheel when the door to the inn flew open. In it, behind what looked like half a broken table, stood a hulking figure. The dim light posed no problem for the gnoll's eyes, however. He saw clearly who it was, and he panted in pleasure.

"So, half-orc, you're coming out at last! I hope you still have what I've come so far to get! My mistress will be displeased if you've lost it."

From behind the table-shield, Krusk raised one hand and showed the oilskin packet. He took a step out of the doorway then stopped. A few of the gnolls moved forward, but he leaned back.

"Well, come on, half-orc!" Grawltak shouted. "What are you waiting for? Your friends have decided your fate. Come forward quickly, or I'll add this one's blood to the night's pool!"

Kark passed the human girl to Grawltak, and she sobbed as he threw her roughly to the ground.

"Let them go!" the half-orc called back, half question, half demand.

Hyenalike laughter answered him, but Grawltak stepped forward and barked for silence.

"Of course! They mean nothing to us. My mistress is impatient! I will not take my pleasures in this village if you surrender yourself. Who knows? If you cooperate, maybe you, too, will live. I don't blame you for trying to survive!"

Grawltak looked around the courtyard. He tried not to glance too long in the direction of the gnolls positioned closest to the inn. Each had two bottles of alchemist's fire. When they had the half-orc in tow and knew the burden he carried was theirs, they would splash the inn. The burning and the death would keep the soft-skins from pursuing.

"We'll take your weapons, but even those you might get back, if you cooperate!"

No barks of laughter answered Grawltak then. He could feel the tension in his pack. They were waiting for the kill.

The half-orc stepped forward. He kept the table in front of him as he moved across the porch, down the steps, and onto the courtyard grass. A few of the gnolls stepped forward into the light of the burning hay bales. Grawltak himself moved forward, with Kark beside him, but something made him pause.

It saved his life. The shutters of the upper story of the inn flew open and arrows shot out. Two struck the ground inches away from Grawltak's feet and others hit each of the gnolls moving toward Krusk. One of those gnolls collapsed with a howl, but the other pulled the shaft out of his leather armor and leaped forward, axe in hand.

The half-orc threw the table at the gnoll, and the unexpected attack caught the creature off-guard. As the humanoid leaped aside, Krusk swept out his own greataxe and brought it smashing down against the gnoll's shoulder. Swinging back, the whining creature managed a weak blow against Krusk's side.

The rest of the gnolls reacted quickly. Kark's archers loosed their arrows at the half-orc, but Krusk was partly shielded by the gnoll in front of him. Only one arrow struck its target, and it thudded harmlessly off the half-orc's chain shirt.

Grawltak howled in anger. The gnolls heard him and those with the alchemist's fire jumped out from their cover and made ready to throw.

As they waited for Grawltak's signal, the stable door exploded outward. A human woman in gleaming armor rode right over one of the fire-flask gnolls as she spurred her horse forward. Another rider followed her, this one a human man. His armor was darker and covered in spikes. Grawltak swept out his axe and with Kark at his side, charged to meet them.

But the soft-skins weren't yet out of surprises. Roaring out of the inn came three more humans. Three large men wielding motley weapons bore down on the gnolls. One buried a scythe in the head of the gnoll nearest Krusk while another threw himself at the second flask-carrier. The alchemist's fire fell from the startled gnoll's hands and exploded on the ground.

One gnoll remained poised to throw fire onto the inn's roof.

He threw it without waiting for Grawltak's bark, and it caught quickly. The right side of the inn's roof blazed.

Cursing, Grawltak snapped more orders reflexively, this time in his native tongue. He could not shout as loudly or as quickly in the awkward common speech, and he was too angry for that anyway. More gnolls dashed forward from their hiding places. Some fired flaming arrows at the inn while others attacked the soft-skins in the courtyard.

The riders didn't let the gnolls turn the tide against them that easily. The shining knight swept out her sword and hacked down the gnoll nearest her, then she spun her mount toward the next one, who was wrestling with a human on the ground. The gnoll rolled away from its big opponent in fear of the horse's hooves, and the knight just missed decapitating it with a sweeping blow. The gnoll yelped in pain as the sword glanced off its neck armor, then it bolted toward the shadows.

The other mounted human struggled to control his horse. The beast shied away from the gnolls and the fire, and it started bucking. The spike-armored human clung to its neck until it stopped rearing. As the frightened animal turned, however, Grawltak saw another human clinging to the man's back.

"Down!" Kark cried out, diving toward his pack-master.

A crossbow twanged and the bolt streaked toward Grawltak's surprised face. Kark reached him first and the bolt struck the old gnoll in the side. He howled in pain as he thrashed on the ground. Grawltak stood in amazement for a moment, then he shook himself and snarled.

The half-orc was almost within reach and swinging his axe in mighty strokes. Gnolls fell or fled before him, and those who fired their bows either missed or saw them strike Krusk's heavy mail with little effect. Grawltak looked up into the half-orc's face and saw a ferocity he'd never seen before. He backed away cautiously, guarding himself with his axe.

Even as the half-orc charged, however, the shining knight steered her mount to cut him off. Grawltak had a disturbing image of his mistress, then. He'd seen her ride that way, and he feared to face this soft-skin if she was anything like her.

"On, Krusk! Get on!" shouted the knight, her voice clear amidst the carnage. "Get up here now!"

Grawltak saw their plan: escape. Despite the ferocity of their attack, the soft-skins were still in a bad position. His gnolls were regrouping. They outnumbered the villagers and the fire was spreading quickly through the inn. If he could delay them, the battle could be a great triumph. With renewed nerve, he moved forward to attack the knight's horse.

The half-orc was having trouble mounting behind the knight. When he swung up onto the horse's back, he nearly dropped his axe, and something else did fall. Grawltak's eyes saw gold flash in the firelight and he stopped in shock. His mistress had explained to him in great detail exactly what he needed to capture from the half-orc. The packet on the ground before his feet bore the emblem she described.

The half-orc saw his prize lying in the dirt even as the knight spurred her horse. As Grawltak dodged the beast and lunged toward the packet, the half-orc actually tried to fall back out of the saddle. But the knight reached back and held him, screaming, "Krusk! Let it go! We must get out of here!"

The half-orc's wordless bellow ripped from his throat, but he could not escape the knight's steely grip.

Grawltak's guards jumped forward, swinging their axes at the knight and her steed. The gray horse leaped forward between them and rode away into the darkness. Grawltak snatched up the packet, and with one quick look to make sure his eyes had not deceived him, he stuffed it into his armor.

"Fall back!" he yelled. "Back!"

His voice was triumphant and his pack, though eager to slay the soft-skins in the courtyard and make the humans pay for spilling gnoll blood, obeyed their leader. Grawltak snarled at two of his uninjured scouts, and they picked up the wounded Kark and fled into the darkness with Grawltak close behind.

 

 

Three dead gnolls and several wounded humans lay in the village square. The inn's roof blazed, but the fire looked worse than it was. The villagers in the top floor kept the fire from spreading to the interior of the structure, tossing flaming bundles of thatch out the windows as quickly as they could fall into the rooms. Early clutched his side and hobbled over to Ian, who emerged from the upper floor, limping painfully.

"Did they get away?" Early asked.

Ian nodded.

"I heard that paladin yell something. Did it work?"

Ian shrugged and answered, "I don't know. The gnolls are gone. That much worked." He looked into the darkness, but even his half-elf eyes couldn't see their former companions. "I hope they got away safely."

 

 

Alhandra and Krusk, Regdar and Naull rode hard and fast along the road through the village. Windlass stepped nimbly over the ruts and wagon tracks but the brown mare Regdar had selected from the stable nearly fell twice. Finally, he had to call to the paladin to rein up. They dismounted, Regdar breathing heavily.

"It worked! I can't believe it worked!" he panted breathlessly.

Naull grinned and patted him hard on the back. "Why not? It was your plan. Krusk, you were amazing!"

The half-orc grinned, his fangs and yellowed teeth showing in the moonlight. It was the first time any of them had seen him really smile, and the sight made Naull laugh out loud.

"Here," she said, pulling out her plain, oilskin packet and handing it to him. "Careful. I stuffed everything in there, but I don't know if the clasp will hold."

"What did you put in the other packet?" Alhandra asked.

She'd missed much of the preparations, having been too busy climbing out the inn's side window and into the stable to see how the rest of Regdar's plan came together.

"Just what I had in my own," she said. "A few papers, nothing really—" She smacked her forehead. "Damn! I left the letter from the village with our contract in it!" She looked at Regdar in dismay. "We won't get paid!"

The fighter laughed. "Don't worry about it. I've got most of the orcs' loot in my pack. Early and Ian already got their shares," he said. "Besides, Eoghan'll need the gold to fix his roof."

They looked off toward the village. It was too dark to see, but they took that as a good sign.

"It looks like they put the fire out," Regdar said.

"I hope the gnolls leave them alone."

Alhandra said, "I think they will. When they realize they don't have the key, or the map, or any of the rest of it, they'll be too busy trailing us to go back to the village."

"Now there's a hopeful thought," Naull said dryly.

"It is," Krusk agreed, no humor in his voice at all. He shook his axe back toward the scene of the fight. "It is."

The other three exchanged looks, then Regdar sighed and said, "Well, we'd better get moving before they have a chance to look at their prize. Gnolls move pretty fast when they're mad, and these will be madder than a troll at a barbecue."

No one disagreed.