Sal pulled himself to his feet and walked back along the road, away from
the door, drying his tears with a dirty hand. There had to be some other
way in. He would find it. Ignoring the pain in his chest, he turned and
began to climb the slope. He had to find a way.
He collapsed twice as he climbed, lying on the ground, waiting for the pain to subside. He had no idea how long he had been here, as the sky was obscured by cloud so thick it made it as dark as night. The stony slope was barren, leaving Sal afraid that the great door was the only way in. He was almost ready to give up and wait for death to find him, when he saw a metal tube rising from the ground.
Sal went closer, despite the foul air that was rising from the tube. Of course! Orcs would need to breathe as much as any other creature. The tube must be to let cleaner air down into the underground. place. Sal wasn't sure what exactly it was that was below him.
He looked at the tube, which was far too narrow for him to fit through, and wondered exactly how he was supposed to get down. He knew now that there were other ways in, but for him they were as impossible as the main entrance.
He sat down next to the tube, staring at it in some dim hope that it would give him inspiration. Moments passed and turned into minutes, and still he sat there. He doubted that there were any larger air tubes, even if he could be fortunate enough to find another. Besides, he wasn't strong enough to cope with the search for more. He had to find some way of getting down here, or else try to find a way through the gate.
He briefly considered just charging at the gate. He would die, but at least he would have the chance of killing some of those foul orcs. He would die in the service of his king, but he would have no hope of helping him.
Suddenly, Sal heard voices. His first instinct was to draw fortune, looking round for the approaching enemy. It took him a few moments to realise that the voices were actually coming up the tube beside him.
"Won't last very long, these two," one voice said, harsh and cruel. Undoubtedly an orc.
"There's still a bit of fun left in them," another said.
"Not the rate the master wants to use them. They'll be dead in days."
"The others'll last longer. The master wants that man alive. There'll be some months of fun in him." The voices became fainter, and Sal sat by the tube, hands shaking at the thought of their words.
The man they had spoken of must be King Elessar. The others were probably the other members of the company. Sal couldn't imagine what terrible things were being done to them, but knew he didn't have long. He had to find some way to get down there and soon, otherwise the members of the company would die.
He scratched at the rocky ground around the tube, trying to dig it free, hoping to make a large enough hole for him to fit through. He scraped his hands raw, but the dry rocks didn't want to move, and it was a long time before he had made even a small hole. It would take an age to dig down at this rate, and he didn't even know how far he had to dig. The flow of air through the tube could have distorted his hearing and made the orcs seem close when they were really a long way down. He came to a large rock embedded in the soil, that he couldn't move with his hands. He needed a tool to dig with.
He took up fortune and, wishing he could put the king's gift to a better use, pushed the point of the blade under the edge of the rock. Leaning his weight on the hilt, he levered the rock lose, moving it with his free hand. And so he continued downwards, scraping with his hands where possible and using fortune where he needed.
When the hole was growing deeper, he stopped to rest. He put a hand to his sore chest, and found it coming away coated with fresh blood. He must have torn open the wound when digging. Trying not to breathe too deeply in case he did more damage, he leaned on the tube. He would rest only moments. There was no sign he was even close to reaching the underground base, and he didn't have much time.
Suddenly the tube shifted slightly under his weight. He sat up quickly, the pain in his chest instantly making him regret the sudden movement. Once it had subsided enough for him to think about moving again, he pushed against the tube. It shifted again. The relief was intoxicating. A moment before he had no hope, and now it seemed there was a chance.
He pushed the tube, then pulled, then pushed again. Each time the tube moved slightly more, loosening in its place. Then, without warning, the ground beneath Sal gave way. He felt in shift and then suddenly there was nothing beneath him. But that lasted only a moment, then he hit the ground his chest wound flaring with unimaginable pain. The tube fell with a clang on the stones, but Sal was only aware of the pain that seemed to be spreading through his veins into the rest of his body. His breath came in short gasps, each one seeming to tear his lungs apart.
But the pain faded, and he became aware of the urgent need to get out of this place. Someone would surely have heard the sound of his entry, and there would be orcs here soon. He was certainly in no condition to fight anyone or anything. He picked himself up painfully and retrieved fortune from the mass of rubble surrounding him. The sword appeared undamaged, for which Sal was grateful. He would need a weapon in this place, besides, the king had only said he might use fortune, he hadn't given it to him.
Now that he had a chance to look round him, he saw he was in a tunnel, lit dimly by torches burning at far intervals. It was long, and there were doors leading off it. Sal picked a direction at random and set off, taking a torch from the wall so he could see better.
The doors he passed were made of heavy wood, and all locked. Sal didn't stand a chance of forcing any of them, and he had no way of knowing what was behind them. So he walked passed them, knowing that the members of the company could be locked behind them dying. He had as much chance of rescuing them now as he did when outside. But at least he was doing something.
He turned a corner and continued down an identical tunnel, again trying doors as he passed. To his surprise, one opened. He almost fell through it, not expecting the movement. He stood for a moment, uncertain as to whether he should go through or not, when the sound of approaching feet made up his mind. The orcs had come to investigate the noise.
He went through, closing the door behind him and shutting out the sound of boots on stone. He was in another tunnel, but this one was better lit. It sloped downwards slightly, then turned into a staircase. He guessed this part of the base was used by more important people. things than the part. He guessed, or rather hoped, that it was where important prisoners would be kept. He began to make his way slowly down the stairs, when he heard the door he had come through open, and the harsh voices of orcs.
He ran, hurrying down the last few steps. His chest screamed in agony, but he had no choice. He made it most of the way down before he stumbled, and fell the last few steps. The torch dropped from his hand and extinguished itself on the stone. He could hear the orcs getting closer behind him, and pulled himself to his feet, ignoring the pain.
He tried to run on, but his body wasn't up to it. He was tired, injured and weak, in no condition to flee like this. His lungs cried for air, but he couldn't breathe deeply without causing more pain. He turned a corner, out of sight from the orcs. Running without caring where he was going. All he could think of was getting away.
As he slowed for a moment at a juncture between two tunnels, someone leapt out of a nearby door. Before he knew what was happening, strong arms held Sal, and a hand pressed over his mouth. He was pulled through the door and engulfed in the darkness behind it.
***
Author's note: I love evil cliffhangers, but you've probably worked that out by now. I will write the next chapter soon, if only to avoid what you'll do to me if I don't.
He collapsed twice as he climbed, lying on the ground, waiting for the pain to subside. He had no idea how long he had been here, as the sky was obscured by cloud so thick it made it as dark as night. The stony slope was barren, leaving Sal afraid that the great door was the only way in. He was almost ready to give up and wait for death to find him, when he saw a metal tube rising from the ground.
Sal went closer, despite the foul air that was rising from the tube. Of course! Orcs would need to breathe as much as any other creature. The tube must be to let cleaner air down into the underground. place. Sal wasn't sure what exactly it was that was below him.
He looked at the tube, which was far too narrow for him to fit through, and wondered exactly how he was supposed to get down. He knew now that there were other ways in, but for him they were as impossible as the main entrance.
He sat down next to the tube, staring at it in some dim hope that it would give him inspiration. Moments passed and turned into minutes, and still he sat there. He doubted that there were any larger air tubes, even if he could be fortunate enough to find another. Besides, he wasn't strong enough to cope with the search for more. He had to find some way of getting down here, or else try to find a way through the gate.
He briefly considered just charging at the gate. He would die, but at least he would have the chance of killing some of those foul orcs. He would die in the service of his king, but he would have no hope of helping him.
Suddenly, Sal heard voices. His first instinct was to draw fortune, looking round for the approaching enemy. It took him a few moments to realise that the voices were actually coming up the tube beside him.
"Won't last very long, these two," one voice said, harsh and cruel. Undoubtedly an orc.
"There's still a bit of fun left in them," another said.
"Not the rate the master wants to use them. They'll be dead in days."
"The others'll last longer. The master wants that man alive. There'll be some months of fun in him." The voices became fainter, and Sal sat by the tube, hands shaking at the thought of their words.
The man they had spoken of must be King Elessar. The others were probably the other members of the company. Sal couldn't imagine what terrible things were being done to them, but knew he didn't have long. He had to find some way to get down there and soon, otherwise the members of the company would die.
He scratched at the rocky ground around the tube, trying to dig it free, hoping to make a large enough hole for him to fit through. He scraped his hands raw, but the dry rocks didn't want to move, and it was a long time before he had made even a small hole. It would take an age to dig down at this rate, and he didn't even know how far he had to dig. The flow of air through the tube could have distorted his hearing and made the orcs seem close when they were really a long way down. He came to a large rock embedded in the soil, that he couldn't move with his hands. He needed a tool to dig with.
He took up fortune and, wishing he could put the king's gift to a better use, pushed the point of the blade under the edge of the rock. Leaning his weight on the hilt, he levered the rock lose, moving it with his free hand. And so he continued downwards, scraping with his hands where possible and using fortune where he needed.
When the hole was growing deeper, he stopped to rest. He put a hand to his sore chest, and found it coming away coated with fresh blood. He must have torn open the wound when digging. Trying not to breathe too deeply in case he did more damage, he leaned on the tube. He would rest only moments. There was no sign he was even close to reaching the underground base, and he didn't have much time.
Suddenly the tube shifted slightly under his weight. He sat up quickly, the pain in his chest instantly making him regret the sudden movement. Once it had subsided enough for him to think about moving again, he pushed against the tube. It shifted again. The relief was intoxicating. A moment before he had no hope, and now it seemed there was a chance.
He pushed the tube, then pulled, then pushed again. Each time the tube moved slightly more, loosening in its place. Then, without warning, the ground beneath Sal gave way. He felt in shift and then suddenly there was nothing beneath him. But that lasted only a moment, then he hit the ground his chest wound flaring with unimaginable pain. The tube fell with a clang on the stones, but Sal was only aware of the pain that seemed to be spreading through his veins into the rest of his body. His breath came in short gasps, each one seeming to tear his lungs apart.
But the pain faded, and he became aware of the urgent need to get out of this place. Someone would surely have heard the sound of his entry, and there would be orcs here soon. He was certainly in no condition to fight anyone or anything. He picked himself up painfully and retrieved fortune from the mass of rubble surrounding him. The sword appeared undamaged, for which Sal was grateful. He would need a weapon in this place, besides, the king had only said he might use fortune, he hadn't given it to him.
Now that he had a chance to look round him, he saw he was in a tunnel, lit dimly by torches burning at far intervals. It was long, and there were doors leading off it. Sal picked a direction at random and set off, taking a torch from the wall so he could see better.
The doors he passed were made of heavy wood, and all locked. Sal didn't stand a chance of forcing any of them, and he had no way of knowing what was behind them. So he walked passed them, knowing that the members of the company could be locked behind them dying. He had as much chance of rescuing them now as he did when outside. But at least he was doing something.
He turned a corner and continued down an identical tunnel, again trying doors as he passed. To his surprise, one opened. He almost fell through it, not expecting the movement. He stood for a moment, uncertain as to whether he should go through or not, when the sound of approaching feet made up his mind. The orcs had come to investigate the noise.
He went through, closing the door behind him and shutting out the sound of boots on stone. He was in another tunnel, but this one was better lit. It sloped downwards slightly, then turned into a staircase. He guessed this part of the base was used by more important people. things than the part. He guessed, or rather hoped, that it was where important prisoners would be kept. He began to make his way slowly down the stairs, when he heard the door he had come through open, and the harsh voices of orcs.
He ran, hurrying down the last few steps. His chest screamed in agony, but he had no choice. He made it most of the way down before he stumbled, and fell the last few steps. The torch dropped from his hand and extinguished itself on the stone. He could hear the orcs getting closer behind him, and pulled himself to his feet, ignoring the pain.
He tried to run on, but his body wasn't up to it. He was tired, injured and weak, in no condition to flee like this. His lungs cried for air, but he couldn't breathe deeply without causing more pain. He turned a corner, out of sight from the orcs. Running without caring where he was going. All he could think of was getting away.
As he slowed for a moment at a juncture between two tunnels, someone leapt out of a nearby door. Before he knew what was happening, strong arms held Sal, and a hand pressed over his mouth. He was pulled through the door and engulfed in the darkness behind it.
***
Author's note: I love evil cliffhangers, but you've probably worked that out by now. I will write the next chapter soon, if only to avoid what you'll do to me if I don't.