First Night

 

A blaring sound pierced the air and Alithea covered Erthen’s ears. Drindl turned to the west. “Sun’s almost down. That’s the evening call.” When Alpen stooped to pick up the playpen with the remaining food, Drindl put his hand on his teacher’s arm. “We have to leave it.”

Alpen looked at the young warrior. “Back to the ship?”

“No, they will put us in the sleeping rooms,” Drindl said.

Alpen pointed to the west, past the marketplace. “Why not escape? We are three warriors.”

Drindl turned to the south and west, pointing beyond the tall stone wall of the great room where they had first met. They turned to see several Sprints coming toward them. “We have no weapons.”

“We could run.” Alpen looked to the others, then back at Drindl. “Why can’t we run?”

Drindl reached out to his teacher and held his arms with both hands as he looked him in the eye. “A little while after sunset, they let the wolfbear loose.” Heads turned. “The Fae, of course.”

“Do the Fae riders watch the carnage?” Alpen snarled. “Has anyone seen a young Fae or are they spawn of the spider monsters they ride?” Reaching into the playpen, he grabbed a few pieces of food and held them out to the others. When no one took the food, he threw it to the ground.

Bebe reached for him. “We must watch and wait for our chance. When we get out, we will return to our home.”

When Alpen’s head fell, Bebe took his head against her shoulder and comforted him. Fallon understood the great warrior’s anger. He had led them away from Sarten’s brutality only to bring them to this place of equal wickedness.

“We have to go,” Drindl said.

They returned to the great room, finding that most of the prisoners had left. Drindl led them through another entrance, to an outside corridor lined with burning torches to light their way. They caught up with the last of the shuffling prisoners, who were ushered down a wide stone stairway. Drindl made a sign to a Cawthingi guard, who motioned him to an adjoining stairway that led up to a dimly lit room.

The air was still and rancid, less so than the hold of the ship earlier in the day, but strong enough that Erthen vomited. Alithea tried to comfort the boy, hoping that his listlessness was not illness. The day’s events had shocked them all.

“We sleep here,” Drindl said, pointing to the rows of wooden benches. Most of the spaces were taken, shadowy figures huddled in the light from one torchlight.

Alithea looked to Drindl, then back to the opening at the top of the stairs. “This is unhealthy. Isn’t there a better place?”

Drindl shook his head. “This is the better place. When they wash this down tomorrow morning, the water drains down to the room below. You’ll get used to it in a few days.”

“How much for the guards?” Fallon asked.

“Don’t worry. We must get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a hard day.”

None of them slept well. Their only comfort was the light of the new morning through several  openings near the top of the walls.

“How is Erthen?” Drindl whispered to Fallon.

The boy lay face down on his dad’s chest but turned to Drindl’s voice. Fallon lifted an eyelid. “I was up half the night listening. They are going to take Erthen?” Drindl nodded, his head disturbing a swirl of tiny dust specks in the sunlight coming into the room. “What do they do with the kids?”

“I don’t know. I was hoping you could find out.”