Chapter 71

Looking Down the Barrel

Daegan blew warmth into his hands. The cold sting of the north was seeping into every part of him. The rak had left him with his cloak but he had that draped over Tanlor while the man slept. Tanlor had been stripped of his battle leathers and light armour and was left with only an under tunic and breeches. The man needed the cloak more than Daegan did.

The chill breeze blew in unimpeded through the frost-coated iron bars of their cage. The cage was—thankfully—nestled up against the wooden wall. It gave Daegan a full view of Twin Garde’s keepyard. Both towers were blackened by the fires, along with some of the outer buildings that were damaged by grenadier blasts.

Tanlor and Daegan were in the same cage, barely large enough for both men to lay flat. More cages flanked theirs. A trio of Twin Garde soldiers were housed in a cage a few down from theirs. Daegan had spotted the healer—Yaref—among them, although he did not look in good shape.

The rak seemed to have some measure of concern for their care as they were fed broth twice a day and given water to drink. But that concern didn’t stretch as far as blankets or linens for Tanlor’s wounds. Daegan checked on those wounds now. Angry red blisters still covered the Tanlor’s arms, hands and chest. There were also a few up along his neck that would likely scar. Tanlor had spent four days since the rak assault drifting in and out of sleep. Daegan had fed him the broth and cleaned his blisters with shreds of his cloak.

Tanlor stirred, shivered, then coughed.

“Easy,” Daegan offered a hand to help as Tanlor struggled to rise up to a sitting position.

“Every time I wake in this cage,” Tanlor mumbled, “I think I’ve woken up in hell.”

“Perhaps it is, maybe we did die up in that tower.”

Daegan recalled the final moments in the tower. He remembered firing his revolver, watching as the rak chief’s head snapped back from the bullet. But nothing distinctive beyond that. He remembered feeling pain. And then waking up in this cage next to Tanlor.

Daegan’s own injuries were minor next to Tanlor’s. Daegan’s wounds were similar to burns, although they did not feel hot to the touch. Rivets of angry, swollen scratches, snaked up Daegan’s arms but they were mostly scabbed over now. The skin felt tight around the wounds and stung whenever he bent his arms. He had no idea what the rak chief’s bloodstone dagger had done to him. Whatever it was, it had been working. Daegan didn’t doubt that if he hadn't shot the chief, he’d be amongst the dead.

“Where is Rowan?” Tanlor wheezed, looking out to the area where Rowan and a dozen of the Twin Garde survivors had been chained.

“They moved them out yesterday,” Daegan recounted, “I tried to call out to him but he couldn’t hear me.”

“How did he look?”

“Not good,” Daegan choked. Rowan had looked like a walking corpse. The man’s eyes were sunken and dazed, his skin pallid. Rowan had been chained and dragged along by the others.

“Did you find out where they were taken?” Tanlor breathed. Daegan shook his head.

“That one,” Daegan pointed at a rak with two long blades sheathed on his back and a red scar on his eye. “Seems to be the one left in charge. Another of their leaders took the rest out, it looked like a disagreement between the two but I couldn’t understand them. Their language is… strange. There’s a lot of Old Esterin in there though so I can pick out parts.”

“You speak Old Esterin?” Tanlor asked in surprise.

“My education was quite extensive,” was all Daegan said on it.

The language had been widely in use prior to the fall of the Sorcerer Kings. Esterin had been a domain covering Rubane, Athlin and parts of current Reldon. After Elyina’s rise to power, she had spread Common Tongue as the dominating language. The reason for why Daegan could speak it was because almost all texts preceding the Kingdom of Reldon had been written in Old Esterin. It had been part of his tutoring as a child to learn the language despite its use being mostly defunct in everyday use.

Daegan felt apprehension growing in him as it neared sunset. When the sun went down it got very cold. Each morning he worried that he would wake up to find Tanlor frozen next to him. But Tanlor was more talkative today, that was a good sign that he was recovering. Daegan didn’t want to think about wherever Rowan had been taken. Marching through the woods to gods know where.

A small rak came with wooden bowls of broth for them as he did every evening. The broth was bland but considering it was the only food they were given in days, it was the most wonderful thing Daegan had ever tasted. Most importantly it was warm. The heat flowed through him as he gulped it down from the bowl. The wood itself was also warm and Daegan held it in his hands, savouring it.

“I think the smaller ones are just children,” Tanlor commented after they finished.

“They’re still as big as us,” Daegan remarked. “You think they’d bring children in war parties?”

“Yeah,” Tanlor nodded, “maybe adolescents… Like squires? Youths to run errands and do all the jobs in camp that the older ones don’t want to. You see it often enough in war camps.”

“That’s a very human thing,” Daegan noted, “I don’t think we can make that mistake with these creatures.”

“Good point,” Tanlor said, his gaze drifting over to a dark figure chained to the opposite wall—the dogman.

Daegan often found his own gaze being pulled to the creature. The dogman wasn’t as large as the rakmen but it was still taller than a regular man. He was covered in grey and black fur reminiscent of a wolf, but he stood upright on two strong legs. He hulked as he walked, whether that was due to his captivity or his body shape, Daegan couldn't guess. The creature was usually chained and had a metal collar with a muzzle contraption worked into it.

One of the Twin Garde survivors—a heavier man that Daegan was almost certain he remembered as the cook—had gotten lucky on the second day. A rak youth hadn’t locked the cook’s shackles properly and he’d managed to sneak away during the night. Somehow the man had managed to avoid the sentries on guard. The next morning, a pair of rak had taken the dogman out with them. They’d returned in a few hours. The dogman’s forearms and claws had been stained red. When the handlers re-affixed the chain securing the beast to the wall, the dogman growled at them. Daegan had watched as the rak handlers beat the dogman with sticks for that.

A stick was the tool of choice for rak that wanted your attention. Daegan and Tanlor had not been let out of their cage yet, and so far the stick only came as far as rattling their bars. Daegan had watched the Rowan and the dozen soldiers whacked a few times on their march out of the keep.

“We’ll have to do something about that dogman when we make our escape,” Daegan nodded to the beast. Remaining in captivity was never even a consideration.

“We should just kill it,” Tanlor whispered. They spoke in hushed tones as many of the rak could understand bits of Common Tongue.

“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that,” Daegan disagreed, “he’s clearly a prisoner, like us.”

“Better than him hunting us down.”

“We should focus on how we’re even going to escape first.”

“You have any ideas yet?”

“Getting out of the cage is the first hurdle. After that, my plan had been to free Rowan and the other soldiers. But now…”

“We’ll figure something out for Rowan. At least we know he’s alive,” Tanlor took on a distant expression. “I thought he was gone. I thought we all were, truth be told.”

“So did I,” Daegan replied, then remembered the shameful thoughts he’d had in the final moments before the rak chief tried to kill him.

“I wanted to leave you,” Daegan admitted, “I’m sorry… I tried to be brave but… I wanted to jump off that tower and run.”

“But you didn’t,” Tanlor said, he put a hand on Daegan’s shoulder, “you didn’t. You stood your ground and by some fucking luck of the gods we’re both alive.”

“I wouldn’t call this living,” Daegan felt the corner of his mouth turn up in a sly grin.

“Breathing then,” Tanlor smirked. “Don’t worry princeling, we’ll have you back to destroying your liver in a viceden soon enough.”

“So, what do you reckon about the dogman?” Daegan asked, bringing the topic back.

“If we’re not going to kill the thing, I reckon we set it loose, see how much damage he can cause to the camp and we slip away while he’s chewing on the rak.”

“Risky move, what if he turns on us?”

“We’re not the ones torturing the wretched thing,” Tanlor nodded to where some of the rak youths were banging the sticks near the dogman, making him flinch.

“Fucking scum,” Daegan scowled.

The warrior rak sat on sentry posts watching from the battlements. They were focused on the outside more than what was happening inside the walls. They’re expecting retaliation. There was another pair of warriors near a cookfire on the other side of the yard. One of them was toying with Daegan’s revolver. Trying to figure out how it worked. He tried prying off the runestones with a knife but they were too integrated into the contraption. The revolver’s metal had likely been shaped around the stones themselves.

“How long before the Arch-Duke will send men to take this place back?” Daegan asked.

“You said that Crann had sent for reinforcements already?”

“Yeah,” Daegan replied, “He said he’d sent runners out to Heronsbridge, Garronforn and Rubastre. Hoping that any of the Dukes would listen.”

“Baron Greyson of Heronsbridge is a good man,” Tanlor said. “And he’ll not want any rak coming south of Nortara. He’ll send men, I’m sure. We could be looking at a few weeks though. I don’t reckon they’ll keep us here that long.”

“You think they’ll send us to wherever Rowan’s gone?”

“Rak usually just kill everyone. They don’t take prisoners so this is unchartered territory.”

“The rak chief said something about a ‘Khandamos’ you ever heard of that?” Daegan asked and Tanlor shook his head.

“‘Khan’ is Old Esterin for chief. ‘Damos’ is similar enough to Damas—which means Death,” Daegan mused

“You think they’re speaking Old Esterin then?”

“I think their language has parts of Common Tongue and Old Esterin in it. The histories prior to the Fall of the Sorcerer Kings is sketchy… but I think the rak and humans might have once co-existed. Would make sense if we’ve got a similar language.”

“So a ‘Chief of Death’… maybe the rak have a new leader? One that’s pushing them south,” Tanlor considered.

“And taking slaves rather than just killing everyone,” Daegan suggested.

“Not what you’d expect of the Chief of Death though.”

“Guess not… They did mention something about Khandamos demanding blood,” Daegan offered, “maybe it's a sacrificial thing?”

“I don’t fancy being sacrificed to some Death Chief.”

“Nor do I,” Daegan affirmed, “guess we better start figuring out a way out of this cage then.”

“If we could get our hands on an eradite runestone, I could dissolve these bars,” Tanlor rapped his knuckle against one of the bars. “Even with a topaz, I could melt one.”

“You almost burnt yourself to a crisp last time you used one of those,” Daegan nudged Tanlor with an elbow.

“Saved our asses though.”

“No you didn’t,” Daegan rebuffed, “I did… by blowing chunks out of that rak’s head.”

“Well why didn’t you think of doing that earlier,” Tanlor gave him a sidelong look.

“If I had that revolver now it would sort out all our problems,” Daegan grumbled. “It’s got both eradite and topaz inlaid in it.”

“You see where they’re keeping out weapons?” Tanlor asked.

“I think their warriors requisitioned them for their own use,” Daegan scowled, “I saw a rak with your greatsword sheathed at his hip. And my revolver is over there,” Daegan pointed out the rak by the cookfire playing with it. “He’s been trying to pry out the runestones for over an hour.”

“And what’s happening over there?” Tanlor asked and pointed to where a pair of rak youths had started brawling. One had drawn a knife and the other larger one was deftly avoiding wild swings of the blade. The larger one sidestepped then brought an open palm slap to the smaller one’s hand, knocking the blade to the ground. In seconds, the bigger lad was grappling the smaller one into submission.

“I think they fight like that over chores,” Daegan noted, “whoever loses ends up doing more work. The lad that’s been emptying our shit bucket is the small one over there.” Daegan pointed to a rak that was no taller than a human adolescent. He was digging a hole to empty the buckets. The youth had quite a few shallow knife cuts covering his arms.

“Shit-digger is the bottom rung on the rak hierarchy then,” Tanlor noted.

“Sometimes they get a little bloody, but I ‘ve not seen any of them kill each other… yet,” Daegan continued.

“Pretty intense way to assert dominance,” Tanlor shook his head as he spoke.

“Likely how their tribal society works,” Daegan guessed, “I’ve noticed some of the grown warriors doing the same.”

“I guess it’s not much different to how we do it, whoever’s got the bigger army and the best weapons gets to tell everyone else what to do,” Tanlor replied.

Daegan dreaded to think what a large scale rak army could do. Fully armed with the latest weapons; crossbows, rifles and revolvers. Daegan shuddered but then an idea struck him. He rubbed at the hair growth on his chin, playing out the scenario in his mind. This could work.

“What is it?” Tanlor asked, noticing Daegan’s concentration.

“I’ve got an idea,” Daegan disclosed in a hushed tone, “I think if we convin—”

—There was a crack like the sound of thunder.

Daegan and Tanlor’s heads spun to the sound. The rak that had been playing with the revolver crumpled to the ground. Blue blood sprayed on the wall behind him and covered his rawhide armour. There was a dark blue pit where his eye had once been, it was pouring out blood like a hole in a keg. The revolver was still clutched in his hands, pointed towards him, thumb curled around the trigger. Rakmen were rushing towards the scene.

“I guess they haven’t figured out how revolvers work,” Tanlor said.

“Seems instinctual to look down the barrel,” Daegan replied. Both men watched as the rak gathered around their dead comrade. They seemed reluctant to touch the weapon. The youths hung around the back of the crowd trying to get a look at the dead body, elbowing and shoving each other for better vantage spots. Shit-digger hovered at a distance from the other youths, standing on a crate to try to peek over the crowd. Daegan’s grin once again pulled at the corner of his mouth.

“Didn’t think you were so bloodthirsty,” Tanlor remarked, glancing at Daegan.

“It’s not that… I think this helps my plan quite a bit. Do you think you’ll be ok to run if we do this tonight?”

“If it means getting out of here,” Tanlor nodded.

“We may need to fight. You sure you don’t need another few days?”

“I don’t think we should risk it, if you’ve got a way out of this now then let’s do it.”

***

“Hey, you,” Daegan hissed in a hushed tone when shit-digger came to change their waste bucket. Night had fallen. It was an uncharacteristically clear night and the light of both moons shined in full. It must be Lua Nova tonight. Funny how time went by like that. Most of the rak were gathered around various cookfires. Daegan thought it was strange that they preferred to cook and eat outside rather than using the mess hall. Those not around fires were at sentry posts.

“Yeah, you,” Daegan followed up when shit-digger met his eye, “the other lads always beat you?” Shit-digger cocked his head.

“Can you understand me?” Daegan tried speaking slower and in a lower tone to match how the rak spoke. “Kavek nim tur?” Daegan tried the same question in Old Esterin.

“Yes,” shit-digger responded in the same language. Right so it is Old Esterin they speak.

“You want to fight the boys?” Daegan asked and shit-digger glanced wearily back to the campfires.

“You need to fight back or they’ll keep treating you like…” Daegan couldn’t remember the Old Esterin word for ‘shit’ so he said it in Common and spat, hoping the youth would get the meaning from context.

“Human know not of strong,” the youth replied in accented Common. His voice was surprisingly deep. His voice and size were a potent contradiction to the assumption the smaller ones were youths. But his behaviour seemed a lot more boyish than that of the larger warriors.

“We are Undak,” Daegan replied, thumping his fist against his chest. He was betting that Undak was the term for runewielder. It was something the rak chief had repeated a few times. Shit-digger glanced back nervously at the fires. In the dark light, the faint luminescent blue glow along the veins of his neck and exposed forearms was more apparent. Daegan wondered absently what caused that.

“Undak strong,” Daegan continued, “Undak most strong.” He gripped his fist and tensed it at the rak. “You become Undak and fight back.” Shit-digger looked at him with suspicion, but there was eagerness in his blue eyes.

“How?” Shit-digger asked.

“I teach you,” Daegan replied, then nudged Tanlor, “we teach.” He nodded at Tanlor who also nodded along, holding Daegan’s determined expression.

“No one gives water freely,” the rak responded with narrowed eyes, “What you get?”

Daegan and Tanlor shared a look, and Daegan made a show of looking sheepish. “My friend needs bandages and salve,” Daegan answered, indicating the blisters on Tanlor’s hands and neck. “This is all we ask.”

“And you teach Undak? You teach Savara’an?”

“Yes, yes all of this,” Daegan lied. He would have felt guilty about leading on the naive boy if he weren’t locked in a cage about to be sacrificed to some Death Chief.

“You teach first. Then bandages,” shit-digger insisted, excitement growing on his expression. It was strange how human those expressions looked on his alien face. Daegan glanced at Tanlor again. Tanlor of course couldn’t understand a word of what was being said, but Daegan just needed the look to help sell the illusion.

“Fine,” Daegan answered. “But you will need runestones for us to teach you. You know these?” Shit-digger’s head turned in confusion, his brow knotted trying to understand the word.

“Stone that glows,” Daegan demonstrated a small circle with his fingers, “runestone.”

“Yes, yes. Vastek” shit-digger nodded emphatically, but then frowned looking about the camp, “vastek valuable. I have none of these. Only Undak have them.”

“My weapon has them.” Daegan maintained. There was no Old Esterin word for pistol or revolver so weapon would have to do. He pointed to where the rak had blown his brains out earlier that day. “My weapon,” Daegan mimed the bang with his hands and blew through pursed lips to make the sound. Shit-diggers eyes took on a hungry look.

“This weapon kill Yakra and Sojin,” shit-digger said with unrestrained craving. “Yakra most strong chief. You teach me to use weapon?” Daegan grinned.

“Yes I will.”