"A Dwarf, a Wizard and an Elf Meet in the Woods."

Part II – Silver Tree

Chapter 20 – Dinner and a Rescue

The shock from the cold water dumped over her brought Daelynn abruptly to consciousness. Sputtering and coughing, she tried to sit up but something was interfering with her movements. Chains.

"You live, Herald. For now."

Sitting on the wet floor of her cell, Daelynn looked up to see Baron Hesh standing over her.

"It was a close thing, elf. Another half minute in my Stalkers' embrace and you'd have been dead. No. Do not thank me. I'd just as soon have had you killed as an intruder. But you survived. And too many saw your face. Not many elves in Silver Tree. Heralds either. Small town. People talk. Even some of my people."

The Baron stepped back to the open cell door, where two of his men-at-arms waited.

"Only my most trusted men know where you are, elf. If I decide to let you live, I will send word to have you released, once I am safely on a ship out of Borsa. Pray I do not get too busy and let your fate slip my mind. Oh, and your Herald magics will not work inside these cells. No magic spells will."

With a chuckle the Baron turned and walked down the long, dim hallway that passed in front of Daelynn's cell. One of his men-at -arms pulled the barred door shut, locked it and followed the Baron.

The second man watched his fellow soldier for a moment, then turned to gaze at the elf through the bars of the cell.

"You know, you have only rats for company down here. Big, hungry rats." The man paused. "An' the Baron said nuthin' about feeding you. You'll soon be cold an' hungry down here all alone. You could, ah, 'persuade' me to bring you a bit to eat, maybe some spirits and a blanket to warm you."

The man offered Daelynn what she was certain he regarded as his most 'enticing' smile.

Daelynn slowly looked the leering soldier over from head to toe. "If you mean what I think you mean by 'persuade', then I say I would rather both dine and copulate with the rats."

The man's face fell. He glared at the elf. "Oh? Well then, see how you feel in a week!"

The guard stormed off down the hallway, disappearing after the Baron, leaving Daelynn cold, hungry and alone.

Daelynn's cell consisted of three stone walls and one wall made of metal bars set vertically into the low stone ceiling and socketed in the flagged stone floor. The cell door, made of criss-crossed metal rods and set in the barred wall, had a shiny, plated, locking mechanism. Chained by her waist close to the rear wall, and wrists manacled together, she could not reach the door.

But the chains on her wrists and the locked door were not her main concerns. The riveted metal belt around her waist, attached by a short, sturdy chain to the cold rough stone wall, was the problem. It was not something she could pick or break. Not without tools, and they had removed all her possessions - boots, cloak, sword, sash, lock-picks, knives, daggers and shuriken - when she was unconscious.

Daelynn wondered how many weeks without food she would have to endure to lose sufficient weight to be able to slip out of the belt.

She surmised that the small hole in the cell floor, which stank terribly, was her toilet.

By the end of day two, Daelynn had lapped up the remains of the water in the bucket that had been left beside her. She confirmed that Baron Hesh had been truthful when he had said that magic would not work here. Even tired and hungry, she should have been able to recall and cast a small spell. But she could not conjure up even the weakest of cantrips.

At the start of her third day in the cell, Daelynn stopped throwing bits of wood and stones at the rats and instead sought to coax them closer. She hoped that by day's end she'd have caught a big one to eat. If she failed, she might have to re-consider her suitor's proposal.

By the end of day three the one torch on the hallway wall flickered and went out. Darkness was total. Her darkvision and keen ears showed her that the rats had become braver in the darkness, approaching much closer to her than they had previously dared.

She set her sights on a large, scarred rodent. It was going to be her dinner!

Sometime in the early morning of day four, slumped against the stone wall, her eyes mostly closed, Daelynn feigned sleep. The big rat was a mere yard away. Now two feet. A little closer. Just a bit more. And… A faint noise caught the rat's and elf's ears. The rat paused, nose twitching.

Daelynn projected a calm demeanour. She tried willing the animal to settle down.

Now!

The rodent was large, heavy, and strong but no match for a hungry elf. Daelynn twisted its neck back. Finally! Food!

A few hours after having 'dined' Daelynn heard voices drifting down the hallway.

Two voices. Both male. They seemed to be arguing.

A soft light touched the stone walls of the hallway opposite her cell. The light grew brighter. It was steady. No flickering. A lantern or something magical.

The voices were familiar.

"We should have turned left back there", she heard Stefane complain.

"Be patient, lad. I'm sure more cells are jest up ahead", Garlt retorted.

"You said that an hour ago! Admit it - your vaunted 'dwarven sense of direction' has failed us! We're lost!"

"I've never been lost in me life!" Growled the dwarf. "Yer way'd take us in circles…"

As the squabbling pair came opposite her cell, Daelynn called out. "You two males quarreling again?"

Garlt Gemfinder stopped, held his glowing axe higher, and peered into Daelynn's cell.

"There!" The dwarf nudged Stefane with his elbow, poking the young man in his thigh. "Told ye she were down this hall!"

Stefane sighed. "You also told me she was down the last three hallways!"

"All the hallways join up, lad. It's pretty much the same hallway."

"What?" Stefane turned to the dwarf, hands on hips, ready to argue the point. "That is ridiculous. If this is an example of your marvelous orienteering, our quest northward is doomed!"

Garlt scowled and was about to correct his apprentice when Daelynn interrupted.

"Gentle sirs!"

The two men stopped and looked at the elf.

"Perhaps you would care to join me for dinner?" Daelynn held up the remains of the rat. "No? Then if it is not too much bother, you could get me out of here. This is a rescue, is it not?"

"Of course, Lady Daelynn". Stefane stumbled over his words. "Ah, we need a key?"

The man pointed to the locked cell door.

"Oh, by the All-Father's Stones", swore Garlt! "She dinna need a key. She gots us!"

"Must say, elf." Garlt regarded Daelynn through the bars. "I'm a little surprised yer still chained up. Figured a girl of yer talents would na be held up by a few locks."

"Talents", inquired Stefane?

Daelynn stood, indicating the short length of chain that held her to the wall.

"Bolted on. No lock to pick, Master Gemfinder. And magic spells cannot be cast in this cell, so put your arm down, Stefane."

"Hacksaw, hammer an' chisel will take of that! Here, lad. Hold the light." Garlt handed Stefane his glowing axe and lowered a small pack he had been carrying to the floor.

The dwarf stepped close to the bars which were set about a hand span apart. Grasping two adjacent bars, one in each hand, Garlt attempted to pull them apart. After a fruitless minute of sweating and swearing, he stopped.

"This is a well constructed cell. Good iron. Also, I may not be the dwarf I once was. Lad, I'll need yer assistance."

Stefane stepped forward, eager to help.

Garlt rummaged through his pack, pulling out bits and pieces of leather, wood and metal. With Stefane's help, the dwarf wrapped leather and rope bands around two of the vertical bars at their mid-points. The two bars he selected were a few feet apart, separated by other bars. Sticking a long wooden peg through the center of the leather and rope assembly, Garlt took the glowing axe from the young mage's hands and directed Stefane to start turning the peg. As the peg turned it tightened the leather and rope straps wound about the two bars.

"Is that a windlass", asked Daelynn?

"Aye. Keep turnin' that lever, lad. Do not let it slip! Simple little construct, elf. Doubt this'd work on dwarven steel but this human iron-shite should bend. Keep turnin', laddie. Yer doin' good. If we're lucky we tear out one of the bars. If not, we should get one to bend. Maybe enough fer ye to slip through? Come on lad, put yer back into it!"

As Stefane struggled with the windlass, Daelynn questioned Garlt.

"How did you find me, Master Gemfinder? Have you been wandering over the baronial residence in search of me?"

"Ah. Three of the baron's boyos came by the inn a day ago with lots o' questions fer us. All about ye. The lad and me were quite forthcoming about ourselves, me especially on account of thet curse. But they dinna seem to believe me when I told 'em we met on the road an' had no particular allegiance. After the lad mouthed off and said we had bin bound by the 'Articles', things got a tad… heated. Anyways, threats were made, insults exchanged, weapons drawn, and spells cast. It did not end well for the Baron's men."

"And from that encounter you surmised I was a prisoner in the pits beneath the baron's residence?"

"Well, we knew ye we in trouble, not showin' up back at the inn like ye said ye would. That were confirmed by the rather rude questionin' we endured a few days later. I figured ye could take car o' yerself but the lad was near frantic. So, we went off fer a little walk and found our way here."

Stefane, red faced, breath laboured, and with sweat pouring from his brow, grunted something at the dwarf.

Garlt stepped up to the contraption and started to assist Stefane in twisting the peg. Soon he too was sweating. The rope and leather were making odd squeaking sounds. Or maybe it was the dwarf.

A sharp 'badang' rang out in the hallway and Stefane and Garlt stumbled back, all tension gone from the contrivance. One of the metal bars, now slightly bent, had popped out of its socketed setting in the stone ceiling.

Stefane wrestled the bar out of the way creating a foot-wide gap in the wall of bars.

Garlt handed Stefane a small but sturdy hammer, a chisel, a pair of pliers and a small saw. The young mage looked at the dwarf, confused.

"What? I canna fit through there, lad. I'm far too muscular. It might even be tight fer ye. But ye have ta try."

Stefane looked at the dwarf, his gaze settling on Garlt's round belly, which hung over his wide belt.

The mage prodded gently at the dwarf's midriff. "Lighter breakfasts might help you lose some of that 'muscle'."

"Hey! I've earned that! Now get ta work, apprentice!" Garlt snapped at the man, brushing away Stefane's fingers which continued to poke at his midsection.

Casting a dubious look at the opening they had created, Stefane handed the tools back to Garlt, set down the axe and stripped off his cloak and jerkin. He slid one leg through the bars. An arm followed. Head next. Exhaling, Stefane squeezed the rest of his body through the bars, ripping the back of his shirt in the process. Damn! That was new! Purchased not two days ago!

"Good!" Exclaimed the dwarf. "Here. Take the tools an' light. Get ta work. I'd like ta get back to the inn before things get any uglier out there."

"What is happening 'out there'", the elf asked?

"The winter supply o' grain never arrived from the south", explained Garlt. "Twas due this week, but word has reached Silver Tree that none was ever purchased. Seems the Baron, who through graft or intimidation, controls most the guilds and crafters in Silver Tree, was supposed to 'help' organize an' transport the summer's harvest. Rumour has it he pocketed the money, an' pressed the grain wagons into his service. People are angry. The town watch and the Baron's men-at-arms have had to disperse crowds gathered in the square. If true, folk could be getting' hungry in a few weeks time. Maybe days."

During the dwarf's summary of events in Silver Tree, the mage had set to work removing the chains that secured the elf.

"What is that?" Stefane pointed to the remains of Daelynn's 'meal'. "It looks and smells disgusting!"

"While it may look unappetizing, that my friend, was my breakfast dinner and was going to be dinner. As for the odour, that is a combination of the shit-hole you stand next to, a liberal amount of rat urine and feces spread across this cell floor, some mildew, damp stone…" Daelynn bent her head, nose sniffing at her arm pit. "…and me."

"Chains are off", stated Stefane, releasing Daelynn. "It will take more time to remove the belt they riveted around your waist."

"Later." State Daelynn. "I have a Baron to arrest. Maybe kill. Food riots are never pretty. If Baron Hesh has not already fled town, then he will soon do so. I must find him."

Garlt stroked his beard. "Hmm. The guard we bribed to get in here said the Baron hasn't bin seen all day. Mebbe he's hiding out?"

"Bribed?" Inquired Daelynn. "With what? I thought you were broke?"

"Threatened, roughed up, terrorized, tied up and stuffed in a closet. But sure. Bribed". commented Stefane to no one.

Collecting the tools and axe, the mage squeezed through the bars, further damaging his new shirt. Daelynn easily stepped through the gap, pausing to catch her breath.

"Sorry. Even that fine repast was not sufficient to restore my strength. I have not had much to eat or drink in days."

Garlt rummaged in his haversack, pulling out a metal flask. "Here. Take a swig o' this. It'll help!"

Daelynn uncorked the flask and took a generous swallow. She gasped, trying desperately to catch her breath. Coughing, she turned red and swayed, steadied by Stefane's strong arm.

"Udùn!" Gaining her breath, the elf glared at the dwarf. "That was no healing potion!"

"What? Whoever said it were?" grumbled the dwarf. "Thems fine dwarven spirits, ye ungrateful so-and-so."

Having regained her footing and composure, Daelynn thanked her 'rescuers' and followed them out of the dungeon.