Author's Note: I would like to thank all of those who have given me such wonderful encouragement. It really makes all this worthwhile. *smiles*
Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Bioware, Interplay, or the Baldur's Gate series other than copies of the games themselves and an overactive imagination. Thank you. :)
Journey
to the North
Chapter XI
Anomen swore under his breath as he watched the others disappear, fading into the night like figures from a dream. He muttered the words to yet another True Sight spell and looked around, searching the darkness with his deep blue eyes.
The forest was quiet. Quieter in this part than in any other they had passed through, and Anomen took this as anything but a good sign.
Nature can feel evil, and will flee before it like a feather on the wind. He could almost hear Jaheira's voice in the corners of his mind, and her words did nothing to ease his discomfort. The evil was indeed close, and coming closer as the small scouting party drew nearer the abandoned fortress that served as Melanath's home and headquarters.
Anomen allowed himself a tight smile as the others popped back into view. All were there, and all were safe. Thus far.
He took a step forward. Then another, then stopped dead in his tracks, cursing the light crunch of his boots on the snow. The cleric had abandoned his heavy, noisier plate armor in favor of the quiet lightness of leather, but even leather armor had its limitations, and he was still a large man. He tried to make his next few movements as smooth as possible, to avoid any sound that might draw attention from unseen eyes.
Kaelis had always been good at that.
Anomen sighed, pushing the thought away. There was no time for that now.
He thanked the gods again for the trail that he and his soldiers had found through the snow. It was wide and straight, and he could only assume that it was the footsteps of Melanath's minions that had pressed the snow into an icy sheet. This was immeasurably convenient for the small party of knights. Thanks to the few Invisibility potions that remained in the regiment's stores, all members of the scouting party remained unseen, but even the strongest invisibility spell cannot hide snow that is pushed aside by a shrouded traveler.
The men made their way over the trail in relative silence, the only sounds being their light breathing and the occasional crunch of ice under their feet. No words were spoken, and through the magic of each man's True Sight, each member of the party could see the occasional hand gestures that communicated thoughts across the chilly air.
It had been a risk, taking so many magic users in this scouting party, but Anomen could think of no other way to get a party to the fortress unseen. Though the Order's mages and clerics were not as physically strong as the knights and paladins, the abilities to see the others, to communicate and to be able to detect any oncoming danger were absolutely essential. There was no other way.
It was still a danger, however, and the previous scouting party's ill-fated attempt to enter the fortress was constantly in the back of Anomen's mind. Still, the party pressed on through the darkness, and as the light of a nearly full moon broke out from behind dark clouds, the five men could at last see in the distance the crumbling stronghold that was their goal.
Anomen held up his hand, wordlessly commanding the men to stop. They did so without question and stood for several moments in silence. Anomen stared at the fortress before them, his hand idly playing with the handle of the mace on his belt. Something was wrong. The knights began to look at each other uneasily. Duncan started to take a step toward their young commander when suddenly Anomen whipped his head around to face his companions and hissed an order through tightly clenched teeth.
"Drop!"
The last man hit the ground a fraction of a second before the fireball flew over their heads, missing them by mere inches and crashing into the snow behind them with a savage hiss. Anomen threw his arms over his head and buried his face in the snow, and the others followed suit, preparing themselves for the enormous ring of fire that quickly spread from the trap's target center, melting the snow and scorching the sleeping grass beneath.
Anomen had ordered that each member of the party be cast with several different protection spells before they left the camp a few hours earlier, and now he thanked Helm for the foresight as he lifted his head to look at the men behind him.
Each man lay in a soggy pool of sodden undergrowth, but injuries appeared to be minimal to most of the men. Most of them. Erik, a man a few years younger than Anomen and one of the Order's battle mages, had been closest to the trap center and had taken the worst damage. He lay more quietly than the others, still breathing, but only shallowly.
Anomen crawled carefully across the wet ground, already removing his thick leather gloves as his eyes roamed over Erik's injuries. Minor burns, mostly, but there were a few places over the face and neck where the skin had begun to blister and char. It was there that Anomen placed his hand, letting it hover a few inches over the darkened flesh as he began to chant under his breath.
"Vita… Mortis… Calio…."
Anomen felt the familiar surge of power begin at his center and spread throughout his body, slowly coming to focus on the hand held above Erik's face. The hand glowed briefly with a blue light. The light seemed to pass through the air into Erik's skin, illuminating his face with an almost silvery radiance. It took only a few seconds for the magic to begin its work, and Anomen watched with wonder as the skin began to smooth itself under his hand. The charring began to disappear, the redness to fade.
After all this time, the power of healing had never ceased to amaze the young Lord, and he watched with a reverent awe as the burns finally disappeared completely, revealing again the blooming skin of youth.
Erik stirred slightly, then opened his eyes. He looked around, then up at Anomen, and it seemed that an unspoken conversation passed between them. Eric nodded almost imperceptibly at Anomen's questioning gaze, and Anomen smiled faintly in response. Anomen sat back, pulling on his gloves. Then he stood and turned back to the fortress, murmuring the words to another spell.
It took a moment, and then the Detect Traps spell went into effect. A line of glowing red boxes appeared on the icy trail, shimmering wickedly. He frowned. The trail was well guarded. Had he expected less?
He looked at the others and made a motion with one hand, mimicking a trap snapping shut. They all nodded in understanding, and their voices rose in hesitant whispers as they, too, prayed for the ability to detect the invisible dangers ahead.
Anomen waited until each man had given him the signal that they were finished. Then he nodded and began to move forward more quickly, sidestepping each glowing red shape in the darkness. The traps certainly made moving forward more difficult, but traps were easier to avoid than a horde of dark minions attracted by moving snow and murmurs, and the small band proceeded on in silence.
The fortress seemed to grow larger as they approached, until they could see the individual torches along the walls, throwing shadows over the ancient stone. Anomen once again held up his gloved hand, signaling the men to halt. The others drew nearer to where he stood before they stopped, and each pair of eyes turned uneasily to the fortress.
An immense gate of iron covered what appeared to be the only opening into Melanath's headquarters. There were no guards to be seen, but the gate was twice as tall as any man, and held shut with an immense bar that Anomen could see even from the outside. The drawbridge was down in front of the gate, however, and he crossed it without hesitation, stopping only when he could place his hand on the gate.
Duncan's voice was close to Anomen's ear. "The gate that Janus described?"
Duncan and the others had crossed carefully behind Anomen, their hands ready on their weapons. No doubt the traps in the trail had set each man on edge, and they looked around with wary eyes.
Anomen nodded without a word, his eyes roaming over the walls, searching. The walls seemed strong enough, though centuries of neglect had carved eerie patterns in the gray stone, and ivy crawled over the walls in an intricate and strangely beautiful design. The stones, however, were large and sat so closely together that the thinnest assassin's dagger would find it hard to slip between them.
Looking up, Anomen could see a few sentries milling around at the top edge of the wall, far overhead. He stiffened slightly, and his men with him, but the guards seemed to be concerned mainly with the time-honored activity of seeing how far they could spit over the side of the castle.
Anomen made a face and looked around. A moat surrounded the fortress and passed under the drawbridge. The murky water had frozen in most places into a layer of filthy-looking ice, but it seemed that the water still flowed beneath. He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. The water had broken through the ice in a few areas, and there were places where the ice had broken up completely, allowing faint clouds of fetid steam to rise into the chilly air. It seemed as though these broken areas appeared at regular intervals along the wall, and Anomen's lips twitched in what could almost be called a smile.
"There are openings in the wall under that ice."
Duncan followed Anomen's gaze, then looked at his friend with disbelief. He shook his head quickly. "You can't be thinking…." Even in a whisper, Duncan's voice betrayed his amazement.
Anomen smiled wryly and looked away from the water into the stunned faces of the soldiers beside him. "A last resort only, Duncan. I am no fonder of swimming than you are, but at least it appears to be only water."
Duncan looked back at the moat, revulsion in his eyes. "Of course it's water, Anomen. Cooking water, bath water… sewer water…."
Anomen laughed under his breath as he looked back at the fortress, but he said nothing. Instead he ran his hand along the bars of the gate, looking through them into a darkened courtyard.
There still appeared to be no guards at this level, but the gate would be impossible to get through. The iron was wrought into a narrow grid, heavy and impenetrable. Anomen could pass his hand through any of the openings, but it grew tight as it neared his shoulder.
He withdrew his hand and looked up at where the gate was fastened to the stone with enormous iron hinges. The gap between gate and stone was narrow, too narrow for any of his men to squeeze through. With a sigh, he pushed the idea from his mind and looked around, running his hand along the wall beside the gate.
Duncan motioned to the other men, and they nodded wordlessly before moving to the side of the gate opposite Anomen. Duncan joined Anomen where he was still running his hands over the stone, searching.
Anomen had been hoping for a foothold, a handhold… anything, but the stone walls were as smooth as they were thick, and the steam from the moat made the ivy slick and limp. There would be no climbing these walls.
Apparently the other men had come to the same conclusion, because they returned to his side, shaking their heads slightly at the questioning look in Anomen's eyes. Anomen nodded with a frown. He looked at Duncan and raised his eyebrows, then crossed the drawbridge again, walking along the moat until he came to a place where the ice was broken and the steam rose in stinking clouds.
He crouched down and looked at the moat. The ice had a pale green tinge to it that made Anomen a little uncomfortable, but there was no other way. Still, he made a face and glanced over at Duncan. "You may have been right about the water."
Duncan just smirked and folded his arms over his chest. Anomen smiled wryly in response and stood, then began pulling off his gloves in preparation. Duncan looked at where Anomen's gloves lay discarded in the snow, then back at Anomen, who had unlaced his leather armor and was in the process of pulling it off. Duncan took a step forward, whispering harshly.
"Helm, Anomen. I didn't think you were serious."
Anomen sighed and shook his head. "Well, I'm not asking you to come with me, am I?" He looked at Duncan, raising his eyebrows. The older man said nothing, and Anomen dropped his armor next to the gloves.
"The gate is immense, and unpassable." Anomen bent to unlace his boots. "The walls are unscable." He slipped his foot from the boot and began to unfasten the other.
"What other options are there?" Anomen asked, looking up at Duncan. The other man watched Anomen for a long moment, then shook his head without a word. Duncan proceeded to pick up the first boot, then the other as Anomen handed it to him and stood.
"I only want a look. We can discuss the wisdom of my actions some other time." Anomen quickly undid the laces of his thick cotton tunic and pulled it over his head. He tossed it carelessly on top of the armor, shivering slightly as the icy wind bit at his bare skin.
"Gather the others. If I have not returned in half an hour, return to the camp."
"Anomen…."
Anomen's voice was sharp. "Return to the camp, Lieutenant. You will then be in command, and may do as you see fit. Until that time, however, you will continue to take your orders from me, however great a fool I may prove to be." A hint of bitterness crept into his voice. "Helm knows that I have proven it before, and will again, I am certain."
"But the Order has given me a charge of utmost importance, and it is my… duty to fulfill it."
Anger flashed briefly in Anomen's eyes and he turned toward the water, crouching again beside it. "If I do not return…" He began, avoiding Duncan's eyes. His voice quickly trailed off into silence, and he reached a hand into the murky water, letting his fingertips skim lightly over the surface. After a moment, he curled his hand into a tight fist and looked up at the castle walls.
"If I do not return, Duncan, tell Kaelis…. Tell her that I'm sorry. Tell her the truth, and tell her…"
He looked back at the water, still avoiding Duncan's eyes. "Tell her that I love her."
Duncan's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "Tell her yourself…. Sir."
Anomen glanced up at Duncan. The older man's gray eyes were filled with frustration and no small amount of concern. Anomen spoke quietly, letting a smile pass briefly over his lips. "Have faith, Duncan. Half an hour."
Duncan watched Anomen for a long moment, then sighed and shook his head in defeat. "Half an hour."
"Remain unseen. I will return."
Duncan nodded without another word, and Anomen lowered himself into the water. His large hands clung to the edge of the ice for just a moment and then, with a final glance at his friend, Anomen slipped completely into the darkness.
***
The water was black and thick beneath the fortress. Anomen's lungs were beginning to burn, and he had yet to see any indication that his journey was nearing its end. He let out a few bubbles of breath, trying to ease the growing strain on his lungs. It helped a little, but not enough. He pressed his lips more tightly together with his teeth, fighting the urge to open his mouth and take in great gulps of what his lungs thought would be air.
He continued on through the gloom, his eyes desperately searching the foul water for any hint of light. The opening to the moat lay far behind him, covered with a grate that ended a few feet below the surface. It had been simple enough to make his way through the grate and into the labyrinthine sewage tunnels beneath the fortress, but the tunnels sloped down and were soon completely filled with water.
The light of day had quickly disappeared into the gloom, and that had been some time ago. How long, he could not be certain. There had been turns, and dead ends, precious time wasted. Though he thought he knew the way back to the grate, he had no doubt that if he turned back now, he would drown before reaching his friends. His only choice was to go forward, with only instinct and unspoken prayers to guide him in his search.
Anomen let out the last of the air in his mouth and thrust himself forward. Certainly he must be near the center of the fortress by now. Then a small point of light appeared in the corner of his vision. He turned toward it eagerly. It was light, faint and faraway, but light meant air.
He turned toward it eagerly. His lungs felt as though they would burst, and his head throbbed, but the sight of the tiny glow encouraged him, and he renewed his efforts. His strong arms propelled him swiftly through the water, but it seemed like an eternity before the pinpoint of light enlarged and softened into a shimmering circle of radiance.
He could take no more. He pushed himself through the dark water with a final desperate thrust. His head broke free of the water, then his arms. His chest. He was out!
Anomen took great gulps of the stale air, closing his eyes as the burning in his chest began to fade into a duller pain. He treaded water for a moment, then made his way slowly forward and looked around, tossing his damp hair from his eyes.
He was in some sort of underground cavern. The ceiling of the small grotto curved down to the water behind him, but vaulted upward before him, ending in a dome high above his head. The ceiling there was smooth and covered with brick, indicating that he had indeed reached some center part of the fortress.
In one direction, the water moved through another grated opening, presumably to join other caverns similar to this one. In the other direction, stairs rose from the water's depths to a wide expanse of stone floor. It was for this stairway that Anomen now struck out, his limbs all but trembling with exhaustion. Still, he could breathe more regularly now, and was able to murmur a spell of Minor Curing under his breath, sighing softly as the throbbing in his head disappeared into an ignorable ache.
Anomen pulled himself onto the stairs and collapsed upon them, closing his eyes and laying his cheek on the worn stone. He was going to have to swim back through the dim tunnel eventually. For now, however, he was in the fortress, apparently alone, and he could rest, albeit briefly.
He wondered idly if the ingredients for a Potion of Breathing could be found in the dank underground cavern. Then he let out a whispered laugh and pressed his forehead to the steps. They would have done him little good, anyway. He did not have Jaheira's talent with alchemy, and he would have had no idea what to look for or how to use them.
He sighed and opened his eyes. The cavern seemed to be deserted. He lifted himself to his hands and knees and pulled himself onto the stone floor. He stood slowly and looked around again, only vaguely aware of the foul water that dripped from his hair and trousers onto the cold rock. He began to move forward cautiously, taking care that his feet made no sound as he moved.
In a few minutes he had reached a narrow hallway, which wound away from the cavern for several feet. A closed door stood at the end of the dim corridor, and a faint light shone from a tiny barred window near the top. Anomen paused for only a moment to look around him, more out of instinct that concern. He moved quietly toward the door, hugging the wall as he inched his way forward.
He could hear noises from behind the door, and could smell cooking meat and the sweet fragrance of very old wine. It was far more pleasant than the odor of the water that still fell from his beard and hair. His hair had somehow fallen free of its band in the water and now hung in damp waves around his face and bare shoulders. He impatiently pushed his hair out of his eyes and took another step toward the door. At last he reached it and he paused for only a moment before stretching forward to peer through one corner of the small window.
The room behind the door was not large, but it was well lighted, and he could see stacks of wooden crates piled high against the ancient stone walls of a storeroom. Strings of garlic hung from the ceiling, alternating with shapeless hams and, in one case, an entire boar that had apparently been cured and left to hang with the other provisions. He could recognize the smell of baking bread, and his stomach growled loudly.
Anomen scowled at the noise, looking around quickly. He had not eaten anything since early morning, too busy with preparations to bother with something as unimportant as food. Now he cursed his impatience. If he were caught now, because of an empty stomach…. He promised himself a huge meal when he made it back to the camp, then strained to look past the gathered supplies toward an arched doorway at the other end of the storeroom.
He could see little beyond the door, but he could hear muffled voices. The kitchen, certainly. He laid his hand on the door handle and tested it gingerly. It turned with a creaking whisper, and Anomen cringed, looking quickly toward the arch for any sign of discovery.
Apparently, no one had heard the faint noise above the din of voices and dishes, and Anomen let out a deep breath he had not realized he was holding. He relaxed slightly, closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths. Then he turned the handle a little more and found that it was unlocked and turned easily under his hand. He opened the door and slipped silently into the storeroom, leaving the door open and his exit clear.
He moved quickly to the arched doorway that he had seen through the window. He stood close to the wall and slowly moved his head forward to peer into the next room. It was similar to the one in which he stood, piled with crates of food and bins of rotten apples and withered vegetables.
At the other end of the second storeroom a large wooden door stood partially open, and he saw at a glance that his earlier conclusion had been correct. Several stoop-shouldered figures shuffled around in a reddish light, carrying plates of food and loaves of bread on large wooden paddles. Anomen could feel the heat from the cooking fires even where he stood, and a sudden wave of pity tugged at his heart as he watched the nameless figures shamble around the huge kitchen, not daring to pause even to wipe the sweat that ran into their eyes.
Anomen suspected that the workers were villagers taken from Kanfael, brought to this foul place to serve in a kitchen as cruel as any dungeon he had ever seen. He narrowed his eyes and clenched the hand that supported him on the wall. When his work was done, every man and woman from the small village would be returned to their homes. He swore it on his honor, on his life.
He was about to take another step forward when he heard footsteps. Soft, barely noticeable above the din of the kitchen, but they were definitely footsteps, and they were moving slowly in his direction. With a whispered curse, Anomen turned and fled to the relative safety of the outer door, closing it behind him as quickly as he dared. He flinched as the latch caught with a snick, then he moved swiftly to the side of the door, pressing himself against the wall. He hid in the shadows and waited.
***
Sara shifted the basket in her arms. Again. It wasn't heavy. Abram made sure that her baskets were never too heavy, but it was big, and she was having a hard time balancing the basket and its nasty contents in her arms.
She shuffled slowly down the hallway toward the door to the sewers. It wasn't a long walk, and soon she was at the old wooden door. She stood staring at it for a moment, a frown on her young face. She didn't want to put down the basket. It was full of old meat and stale bread and vegetable that were so old they had flies buzzing around them. She bit her lip and tried to balance one side of the basket on the door while reaching for the handle with her now-freed hand.
After a few tries, the latch clicked and the door opened with a creaking sigh. She allowed herself a little smile and walked through the door. She left it open. She could always close it on the way back to the kitchen, when her basket was empty and her hands freer.
Suddenly a large hand shot out of the darkness, grabbing her wrist and pulling her forward. Her basket and its contents fell to the floor with a muffled crash. She opened her mouth to scream, but another huge hand quickly covered it. Her eyes darted around frantically. She thought of fighting, but the arm holding her was very large, and the hand was pressed very tightly against her mouth.
It was a monster. She knew it. Jenna was always telling stories about the monsters that lived in the sewers under the castle. They were covered in garbage and slime from swimming in the sewers all day, and they ate children who stayed too long near the old stone steps. It certainly smelled like it had been swimming in garbage. It was a monster, and it was going to eat her. Tears filled her eyes.
The monster quickly moved her forward, and she heard the soft click of the door latch behind her. The moster pulled her forward some more, into the shadowy hallway. Then it walked around to face her, one arm still around her shoulders and the other hand over her mouth. She looked up slowly.
Sara's eyes grew large, and her mouth would have dropped, were it not behind a very large hand. This wasn't a monster. It was a man. A handsome man, almost like a prince from one of Abram's stories, although he did smell like garbage. He was tall, as tall as any man that she had ever seen, and his shoulders were broad and bare. He wore only a pair of leather trousers that dripped with foul water, and the same water fell from his long brown hair and the beard on his chin.
She looked with amazement toward the murky water just visible at the edge of the stone floor. The stranger nodded slightly and smiled, a twinkle in his eyes. They were as blue as sapphires, and sparkled in the tiny amount of light that made it into the sewer cavern. After a minute, the huge arm slipped from around her shoulders and the stranger put a finger to his lips, smiling again. Sara smiled back timidly, raising a tiny hand to try and straighten the hair that had fallen into her eyes.
He looked through the doorway, as if listening, then looked at Sara with a questioning glance and motioned to the cavern behind him. Sara nodded quickly, and he smiled again. He let his hand slip from her mouth, then took her hand in his and led her down the hallway into the large grotto. As they exited the hallway, he moved out of sight of the doorway into a dark corner and turned to face the girl, crouching down so that he could look into her eyes.
"What is your name?" His voice was friendly and deep, and his smile showed a row of even white teeth in his deeply tanned face. She thought that he was the most beautiful creature that she had ever seen, exactly like one of the princes out of Abram's fairy stories.
"Sara, Sir." She dropped a little awkward curtsy, then swallowed hard. "Who… Are… are you a prince? But how did you…?"
The stranger's smile widened, and Sara felt a blush creeping over her cheeks. He shook his head and raised a large hand to tuck a stray curl behind Sara's tiny ear. "No, my lady. Not a prince. A Lord, and a knight, and a stranger here."
He sighed and spoke softly. "I thought I would take a swim, my Lady, but I fear that I have lost my way. I find myself in this place and was so eager for a friendly voice that I am afraid that I have taken you from your work. Forgive me."
Sara thought she would have granted him anything, but she just nodded dumbly and continued staring. No one had ever called her "my Lady" before.
The stranger continued gently, "My name is Anomen, fair Lady, and I am a stranger to these lands. I wonder if you might be able to tell me where I am?"
Sara's heart sank. She shook her head, looking at Lord Anomen and said quietly, "I'm s..sorry, Sir, but I don't… actually know… where you are."
Anomen's eyes widened in surprise, and Sara continued hastily, her words tumbling over each other in her eagerness, "I was brought here a few months ago to work in the kitchens. I used to live in Kanfael. Me 'n' Jenna 'n' my sister Kari."
"You were brought here?" Anomen reached forward and squeezed her hand gently, and Sara blushed again.
"Yes, Sir. About the time of the summer festival. The trolls came, an'…."
"Trolls? Are you sure?" Anomen's smile remained friendly, but she could see something dark behind his eyes.
She curtsied again and nodded. "Yes, your majesty… I mean…. Your highness… I…." Her eyes widened in horror, and she felt her ears turn red. "Oh, I'm sorry…."
Anomen just laughed and winked one deep blue eye. "Please, my Lady… all of my friends call me Anomen. I must insist that you do the same."
Sara's mouth spread wide in a silly grin. "Okay."
"Go on, Sara…."
Sara spent the next several minutes eagerly explaining the particulars of her capture. Her family, she said, had been taken in the night by the trolls and brought to this place, along with several other families. She didn't know how many. Some had been taken away to the dungeons, she thought, and others just… disappeared, but she and her sisters were some of the lucky ones that were sent to the kitchens to work.
It was hard work, and hot, but she had heard horrible stories about what had happened to the others, and she was glad to be there. Anomen kindly encouraged her to skip the scary stories and listened intently to every word she spoke, only interrupting to clarify a point or flash an encouraging smile.
After several minutes, she stood looking at him in silence, her story told. He watched her for a long moment with sad eyes, and then said simply,
"Sara, do you want to go home?"
Sara felt the tears leap to her eyes. Did she want to go home? She choked out between sobs, "Oh, yes, Sir. We all do…."
Anomen pulled the small girl into his arms, laying his cheek on her golden hair as he tried to soothe her. She lay her head on his shoulder and he rocked back and forth as though she were a small child waking from a nightmare. Maybe she was. His voice was so quiet.
"Shhh…."
Sara threw her arms around Anomen's neck and cried into his shoulder for a long time. At last Anomen gently pulled her away so that he could look into her face. She sniffled and wiped at her nose with her sleeve. When she looked up again, he was looking into her eyes, smiling.
"Listen to me, Sara… This is very important."
She nodded silently, wiping the tears from her swollen eyes.
He went on. "I am not here because I lost my way. I am here on a very important mission." He hesitated. "Is there anyone in the kitchen that you trust? Anyone that I can talk to? It must be done in secret. That is very important, Sara…."
Sara cut him off in her eagerness. "Abram!" Her eyes lit up and she grinned. "He's the most wonderful man I know…. Well, next to you, I think, but he's awfully nice and he can help! He's always helping me! I can go and get him." She fairly jumped in her excitement.
Anomen laughed quietly and winked one blue eye. "Perfect, Sara. Run and fetch him here. But remember…." He opened his eyes wide and placed a finger over his lips to make sure she knew it was a secret.
Sara nodded, grinning, then turned and ran toward the hallway, her golden curls flying behind her.
"Abram!" She flew into the kitchen and looked around. He had to be here.
"Abram!" She darted through the shuffling villagers, searching for the familiar face of her friend. At last she saw him, bent over to inspect the fire in one of the huge ovens. The sweat was rolling down his face in huge drops, and his cheeks were red with the heat, but he smiled when he saw Sara.
"There you are, lass. I had begun to worry about you."
Sara dashed forward and grabbed Abram's hand. "You've got to come with me! Quick!"
Abram stood with a confused expression. "Come with you? Come where, child?"
Sara pulled on his hand. "I… dropped my basket into the sewer, and…."
Abram sighed and shook his head. "Sara, love… That's the third one this month."
Sara groaned and kept pulling on Abram's hand. "I know, but… You've got to come! You've just got to!"
Abram sighed again and ran his free hand through his graying hair. "All right, Sara, all right." He started to follow her through the maze of workers. Sara kept tight hold of his hand all the way through the first storeroom, and the second, and the hallway, until they made it out into the big sewer cavern and Lord Anomen.
She looked around. He had disappeared. She looked around more frantically, letting go of Abram's hand and stepping forward. He had to be here. He had to be.
Abram took a few steps into the cavern and looked around, watching Sara with bewildered eyes. He took a few steps to where her basket lay on the ground, then picked it up and turned toward Sara, his mouth open to question her.
But the question never came. Anomen stepped out of the shadows close to where Sara had been standing. Sara let out a tiny shriek of joy and ran to Anomen's side, taking his huge hand in hers and pulling. He laughed softly and let himself be guided forward.
"Abram, look! His name's Anomen, and he's a knight, and…."
Abram dropped the basket back to the floor. He was watching Anomen with narrowed eyes. At last he stepped forward, shaking his head in disbelief. "Who…?"
Anomen bowed deeply, keeping Sara's hand tightly in his. When he straightened, he squared his broad shoulders and looked at Abram with a very serious expression.
"Sir, I am Lord Anomen Delryn of Athkatla, Warrior-Priest of Helm and a Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart. I am here to free you."
***
Duncan looked at the moon as it moved through the sky. Anomen's half-hour had passed nearly an hour ago, but Duncan had not been able to bring himself to give the order to leave, or even move from the water into which his friend had disappeared. The others stood behind him in the shadow of the great wall, idly fingering the empty bottles that had formerly held the last of their Invisibility potions within.
Duncan finally gave a weary sigh and bowed his head, closing his eyes. It was time to go. He bowed his head in a silent prayer for his commander and his friend.
After several minutes he opened his eyes and said in a tired whisper, "Let's go."
The party turned away from the grate and started to move away when Duncan looked over his shoulder for a final glance at Anomen's resting place. Suddenly he uttered a whispered curse and grabbed the shoulder of the nearest man. "Wait!"
There were bubbles rising from the water in front of the grate. They grew larger, sending spreading circles over the water, until at last the surface of the water broke, and Anomen rose in a spray of filthy water, gasping for breath.
Duncan nearly shouted in his joy, and only checked himself just in time. Instead he rushed to the side of the moat and extending a hand to the panting cleric.
Anomen looked up at Duncan and clenched the offered forearm without hesitation, saying nothing as he was pulled out of the filthy water by the combined efforts of all four men on the shore.
Erik, the single battle mage of the party, uttered a spell and Anomen felt himself drift again into invisibility. Anomen nodded his thanks, then took his thick cotton tunic from Duncan with a grateful smile and slipped it quickly over his head. He managed to whisper through chattering teeth, "I thought that I had I ordered you to return to the camp."
Duncan crossed his arms over his chest and watched Anomen with slightly narrowed eyes. "Put me before the Council, then."
Anomen laughed quietly, shaking his head as he wrapped a warm woolen cloak around his shoulders. "Consider yourself lucky that I find myself wet, cold, and entirely too exhausted, or I might do just that. You had your orders, Lieutenant." Anomen looked at his friend, his smile softening slightly. "Though I am awfully glad to see you."
Duncan nodded slightly. "And I, you." Duncan unwrapped his own cloak from his shoulders and added it to the one already around Anomen. "I thought you had returned to Helm, Anomen. I thank the Watcher that you found your way back."
Anomen's smile gave way to a grave expression. "As do I, Duncan."
Anomen took a deep breath and shivered again, then bent to take his boots from where they lay in the snow. Duncan made a motion to one of the other men, and he picked up Anomen's armor and gloves, holding them in readiness.
Anomen spoke quietly. "I have found a way into the fortress. Perhaps for only a few men, but it may be enough to give us the advantage that we have been looking for."
Duncan nodded and crouched down beside his friend, pushing Anomen's frozen fingers away from the bootlaces. Duncan began to tie them, glancing up quickly at his friend. "There will be time enough to discuss that later, after a good meal next to a very large fire."
Anomen nodded tiredly and reached for his gloves, but said nothing. Duncan finished tying Anomen's boots and stood, pulling Anomen to his feet. Duncan made a wry face and raised one eyebrow. "But first," he laughed, "a bath. You smell terrible."
The grin returned to Anomen's face, and he lifted once arm, delicately sniffing it. "I won't argue with that, Duncan. A bath would be welcome." He dropped his arm and shrugged the cloaks more firmly onto his shoulders.
"A very long bath."
