The Tales of the Wanderer Volume One: A Book of Underrealm (The Underrealm Volumes 4) Garrett Robinson (poetry books to read TXT) 📖

I slammed my hand against the cell bars. “She could, though she will never admit it.”

Dryleaf pulled a key from his sleeve. Mag and I froze. He groped the air for a moment before finding the door handle. Reaching through the bars, he inserted the key and turned it.

Click

The door swung open.

Dryleaf held the key up, dangling it before us.

“I took it when the guards brought the mattress. You should return it to them on your way out.”

Mag could barely contain herself. “Why under the sky did you not tell us this before,” she growled. It was far more of an accusation than a question.

Dryleaf frowned and held up an admonishing finger. “The guards brought me my mattress because I was old and infirm and blind. It is not right to betray the kindness of anyone who would do that, even if they are imprisoning one. Unless, of course, one does so to save their lives. Just as I am doing now.”

Mag and I stared at him. “You have a very strange sense of right and wrong, old man,” I said.

Dryleaf’s frown cracked, becoming a grin. “I suppose some might think so. Take care of yourselves. I believe I will remain here. The mattress is very comfortable.”

We rushed out of the cell and down the hall where the guard had gone. Mag threw the door open to the small guard room. At the other end, the guard stood by another door leading up into the keep. She stared at us, frozen in shock.

“We are going to help in the fighting,” said Mag matter-of-factly. “And if you give us back our weapons, we will be much better at it.”

The girl’s mouth opened and then closed again. Her hand twitched as if to reach for her weapon, but she looked at Mag and thought better of it. Finally she sighed and pointed to a wooden locker across the room.

“They are in there,” she said. From her pocket she fished a small iron key and threw it into my hand. “At least I did not lose that key.”

We emerged into the stronghold’s main bailey to find chaos.

A mass of people had pressed into a great throng before the keep doors. When I first emerged into the open, I thought they were pressing forwards, seeking safety in the keep itself. But after a moment I realized that these did not look like refugees. They were young and hale people, and they were listening attentively to commands shouted at them by Telfer soldiers in armor, standing on whatever platform they could find, desperately barking orders.

Mag seized the arm of a passing guard. “Where is the battle?” she demanded.

The guard stopped looking her up and down for a moment. “In the city, of course,” she said.

“The dale?” I said.

“Yes. Lord Telfer led her forces into the streets. They are trying to slow the trolls’ advance while the rest of the city escapes.”

“If these people are trying to escape, why do they look like they are forming for battle?” I said.

“These ones are,” she said. “Everyone who can fight has been commanded to do so. The rest are taking the western pass out of the mountains.”

I took Mag’s arm. “To the city with us, then.”

We ran for the main gate. It stood open, and more people were still pushing in. We had to force our way through the crowd. Mag led the way, for as with so many things, she seemed to have a particular knack for threading through the mass. But once we were in the open again, we stopped to take in the sight before us. A mass of people was making its way up from the dale, clogging the roads. When they reached the Telfer stronghold, they split into three columns, one passing in through the gate, and the two others curling around it to keep traveling west.

“I wish we had our horses,” said Mag.

“They would not help us,” I said. “We cannot ride through the crowd and trample these people, and besides, they would bolt at the first sign of the trolls. I will take us on the side streets.”

A peal of overjoyed barking drew our attention. We turned to see Oku streaking towards us. He leaped around our feet, yapping and licking our hands and then retreating to bark some more.

“We are glad you are here as well, Oku,” I said. “Even Mag.”

“Hm,” said Mag, who had scratched Oku behind the ears just as much as I had, though she tried to look aloof while she did it. “Let us not waste any more time. If our last tumble with the trolls was any indication, your sister is not having an easy time of it.”

I nodded and led the way into the city. We avoided the main roads, and I took them down any side streets I could remember. But even those avenues were full of people, Kahaunga natives who knew their way better than I did and who wanted to escape. We pressed through them as quickly as we could.

It was quite clear when we reached the battle at last.

We slid to a halt in the center of a wide square as a roar ripped through the air. Mag lifted her spear, and I raised my bow. A squadron of Telfer soldiers came pelting into view, fear on their faces.

A troll was just behind them.

I fired as Mag leaped to the attack. My arrow bounced from the troll’s shoulder. It did not so much as flinch. But it did stop in its pursuit of the soldiers and focused on Mag, who stood firm before it, her feet wide, her weapon ready. Oku joined her, bristling and growling.

“Albern,” called Mag. “Do you have any ideas?”

“Try not to die.”

The troll snarled and swung for her. Mag dived to the side. Oku snapped at the troll’s massive fist, but darted out