PURE OF HEART Page 23

  At a motion from the man’s hand, all eyes turned to three men who led a large figure up onto the stage. He appeared to be part lion and part man. The seven foot tall Lion-Man wore leather pants, but his upper body and face were covered with golden hair, like the mane of a lion around a human face. He was bound with a thick collar; the leather straps around his neck led down to his hands and ankles.

  The auctioneer’s voice boomed: “What am I bid for this rare commodity? Half-man, half-beast. Strong as a bear and unique as a Penilique.”

  “Seventy-five,” a grizzled man called.

  “One hundred and twenty-five,” a dirty soldier who pushed his way to the front bellowed as he glared around.

  “Five hundred,” a man dressed in rich red robes offered.

  “Five hundred? Now that’s more like it,” the auctioneer squealed. “This is a Leomane. Rarer than rare on this side of the sea.”

  “Five fifty,” the grizzled soldier snarled.

  “Seven seventy-five.” The robed man raised his hand.

  “One thousand,” the soldier barked as he glared at the robed man and placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.

  A silence descended upon the crowd, and a curled grin came to the auctioneer’s fat face. Dean felt inside his jacket pockets. Twenty-five cents was all he found. He searched inside his side pocket and felt a lump in the lining. He realized the inside pocket had a hole. As he reached through the hole, he pulled out his lighter. He frowned and stuffed it in his pocket.

  “Do you have any money?” Dean asked.

  “You can’t be thinking what I think you are thinking,” Bravic muttered. “Look at his insignia: crossed swords on red. It matches all the other soldiers, and they’re all paying attention.”

  “This isn’t right,” Dean begged.

  “Neither is getting us all killed,” Oieda fiercely whispered.

  “One thousand. Going once?” boomed the auctioneer as he greedily looked out at the audience.

  “What are you buying him for?” the robed man asked the soldier. “I have a collection of oddities I display, we could split the ticket.”

  “No dice.” The soldier shook his head. “I want him for the fights.”

  Dean turned to Bravic. “I have to do it.”

  “That guy probably doesn’t even have a thousand. It’s a small fortune,” Bravic said.

  “Going twice?” the auctioneer squealed, and the soldier smiled.

  “Bravic, please?” Dean pleaded.

  Bravic looked at Dean for a second and then dove into the back of his pack and pulled out the gold pouch from beneath the Hall of Warriors.

  “I bid this!” Dean held two handfuls of gold coins.

  A gasp came from the crowd.

  The auctioneer stared speechlessly. He opened and closed his mouth with no sound coming out. “Sold!” he finally squealed.

  As Dean crossed to the platform, the soldier’s eyes bulged, and he seemed as if he were ready to explode with anger. Dean tossed the pouch to the auctioneer with a look of distaste. All the color left the auctioneer’s face as he gasped at his treasure.

  Dean approached the Lion-Man and took the chain that a guard held out to him.

  As he walked down the platform, he whispered, “Don’t worry.” He hoped the Leomane could understand him.

  “Just out of curiosity,” Han asked to Bravic, “how much money was that?”

  “One thousand, four hundred and sixty-three gold,” Bravic grumbled. “But who’s counting?”

  “It wouldn’t do us any good anyway. By tomorrow, we’re all going to be dead.” Oieda smiled lopsidedly.

  Bravic chuckled, and Han gulped.

  “Thank you all.” Dean smiled as he came up, leading the Leomane. “I have to look like I own him right now.” He motioned back to the soldier who stared blackly at them. “Let’s get somewhere to talk.”

  The five hurried to a tavern across the street, its worn sign too faded to read. The room they entered was only slightly lighter than the gloom outside, but, like the black clouds in the sky, dark clouds of smoke swirled around the wooden ceiling. Its many tables where mostly deserted. A few men slumped at the grimy bar along the wall.

  Following Bravic, the others headed over to a circular table in the far corner. As they sat down, Dean’s arm went rigid as the Leomane remained standing.

  “Sit.” Dean indicated the wooden bench, but the Leomane stood, unmoving. “Please, sit?”

  The Leomane stared straight ahead.

  “Can you understand me?” Dean asked. “Sit,” Dean said, motioning to the bench.

  The Leomane grabbed Dean’s throat and snarled, “I’m not an animal.”

  Oieda’s dagger pressed against the Leomane’s side. “Then don’t act like one,” she growled back. “Let him go.”

  The Leomane’s hand opened.

  Dean took a step back and exhaled. “Just sit down for a second, okay?” Dean held out his hand to the seat.

  As they all sat down, the Leomane slowly lowered himself onto the bench. A thin, hawk-nosed man in a stained apron swaggered up to their table.

  “What do you want?” he rasped to no one in particular.

  Dean cast a glance around the table and Oieda felt her small purse. “Five breakfasts.”

  “We don’t serve slaves.” The man cocked his head at the Leomane.

  “One can’t be too cautious when he eats in strange places,” Dean said coldly. “The slave eats first.”

  The man nodded his head approvingly and walked away.

  “I didn’t mean that,” Dean said quickly. “What’s your name?”

  “Kala Panteoth,” he said curtly.

  “I’m Dean. And this is Han.”

  “Nice to meet you,” the Elvana said with a broad smile and quick bow.

  “Bravic.” Bravic nodded toward Kala.

  “And you met Oieda,” Dean said.

  Oieda smiled awkwardly and bowed.

  “We’ll get food,” Dean whispered. “And once we’re sure the soldiers aren’t watching, we’ll let you free.”

  Kala frowned. “You expect me to believe that you paid a fortune to feed me breakfast and let me go?”

  “I don’t believe it, myself,” Bravic grumbled. “But it’s true.”

  “Once we eat—” Dean began, but Oieda’s foot kicking him beneath the table cut him off.

  “I don’t think we’re going to be able to eat,” Han whined as he tilted his head to the doorway.

  Several soldiers walked into the room.

  “The soldier’s insignias—crossed swords on red—they’re the same as the man you outbid for Kala,” Oieda pointed out.

  Kala stiffened as he felt the cold steel point of Dean’s dagger press against his wrist.

  “You buy me to kill me?”

  “He’s setting you free, stupid,” Bravic snapped as Dean cut Kala’s straps.

  “Why?” Kala asked with a mixture of mistrust and disbelief in his voice. “So I can die fighting while you escape?”

  “No!” Han blurted, now upset. “That’s just the way he is. He was going to set you free the whole time.”

  Kala scanned Dean’s face. Dean shrugged and his hands went out. As the soldiers walked forward, Bravic started to pass his axe to Kala.

  “Thank you.” Kala pushed the weapon back. “But you keep it. You can use it better than I, and I need a slightly bigger weapon.” He grinned.

  Kala leapt to his feet and cast his bonds aside. He ripped the collar from his neck and roared. The soldiers stopped in their tracks, paralyzed with fear as Kala picked up the long wooden bench. With a crackling of wood, the bench slammed into two soldiers and smashed them across the room.

  Two other soldiers turned to run outside but stopped as several more ran in, including the soldier Dean had outbid.

  The companions readied their weapons and moved back against the wall as they prepared for the onslaught. Kala tossed the broken bench aside and snapped a thick leg off the table.
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  “Go. I can hold them off.” Kala grimly smiled.

  “We go together.” Dean drew his sword.

  Han pulled on the handle of the back door, but it wouldn’t budge. “This door’s locked. The only other one is past them,” Han pointed out. “If only Carimus were here,” Han said. “He’d have some spell with smoke and fire.”

  Dean thrust his hand in his pocket. The soldiers cautiously approached again. His fingers clasped around the lighter. He pulled the lighter out and held it above his head. He waved his hands in the air. Everyone stopped moving as they watched him. Trying his best to sound ominous, Dean shouted:

  “Yabba-dabba-do

  I curse you.

  May this Bic do the trick

  And your mothers all get sick.

  May this spell fry your tails

  And turn you all into snails!”

  He lit the lighter and turned up the flame.

  “It’s a wizard!” one soldier shrieked.

  The rest of the soldiers screamed in horror, turned, and trampled one another as they fled through the door.

  “Move!” Kala exclaimed.

  He turned and kicked the door. Wood and splinters flew into the air. The door flew off its hinges, opening to an alley. The companions dashed out the back door. They raced down alleys that twisted and turned until they were well away from the tavern.

  As they slowed to a stop, Han turned to Oieda and with a grin from pointed ear to pointed ear, he panted, “I told you he’s from the Heavens.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Volsur

  “I’ll go with you to stop Volsur,” Kala announced as they stood in the shadows of the alley. “I know a safe way into the castle. It’s through a service courtyard. We’ll have to get through the main gates, though.”

  “How do you know the way?” Dean asked.

  “I guarded the castle before it fell. I know every inch,” Kala said.

  “Thank you, Kala,” Dean said, “but I can’t let you.”

  “What?” Han’s hands shot up. “The big guy could be helpful.”

  “You still don’t trust me?” Kala asked.

  “We could use—” Bravic started to say, but Dean held up his hands to cut him off.

  “Hold on,” Dean said. “We don’t think we’re going to be coming back out of there. I can’t ask you to die.”

  Kala’s large eyes stared at each of the companions in turn. After a minute, he rolled his huge shoulders and straightened up. “Volsur must be stopped. As I said, it was my job to guard the castle, and I failed. I have to try.”

  Dean looked down at the ground and clenched his jaw.

  Han slid up next to Dean. “We could use him, and he said he wants to go,” he loudly whispered.

  Oieda grabbed Dean’s arm and dragged him around the corner of the alley. She spun him about and got right in his face. “He knows the way. He knows the risk. The only debate is your fear.”

  “You’re not helping,” Dean muttered. “I’m no leader. It feels like yesterday that I was sleeping under a bridge and praying for a hamburger. Now I’m trying to figure out how to stop a wizard, and I could get you all killed. I don’t know what to do.”

  Dean’s eyes searched hers. She squared her shoulders and set her jaw. As he continued to look to her for some words of advice, her dimple appeared.

  “Suck it up, buttercup,” she smirked.

  Now it was Dean’s turn to glare.

  She put her hand on his shoulder. “Sometimes you need to dig deep. You can’t bear everyone’s pain. A warrior knows when they need help. Use your tools. Don’t throw us away. This is your time. Be a leader. Seize the moment.”

  Dean grabbed her around the waist and kissed her. Her arms went out and her eyes flew wide. He held her until he felt her relax. She kissed him back, and his chest swelled.

  Dean pulled away and quickly said, “Don’t hit me. I had to do that.”

  Oieda swallowed and nodded. “When I told you to seize the moment, that wasn’t what I meant.”

  “I know. I—”

  “Hello?” Han stepped around the corner and tossed his hands up. “This is supposed to be a group discussion.”

  Oieda held up a hand. “One minute.”

  Han’s lips mashed together, and he stomped away.

  Oieda turned back to Dean, and he held his hands up. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just grabbed you and—”

  She grabbed Dean’s leather jacket and yanked him against her. Dean inhaled as he crashed against her body. Oieda’s left hand wrapped around his waist and her right ran up his back and through his hair. Her lips pressed hard against his.

  Now it was Dean’s turn for his hands to flop awkwardly at his sides. He had kissed girls before but none had ever come close to the ferocity Oieda kissed him with. His heart raced. Oieda pinned him against the wall, and her mouth claimed his.

  When she finally broke away, Dean stood blinking with his mouth open.

  Oieda spun on her heels and walked to the corner.

  Dean exhaled; he thought she looked even more beautiful.

  “Let’s go, buttercup.” She grinned.

  Dean rolled his eyes but hurried after her. They walked back to the companions. Dean went over to Kala and held out his hand. Kala clasped Dean’s wrist in his large hand. Dean hesitated for a second before he grabbed Kala’s wrist, and they shook.

  “What can you tell us about the castle?” Dean asked.

  They sat behind large crates in the alley for hours as they planned and waited for darkness. The stench from the garbage made the wait seem all the longer. Kala explained the route they would take over and over and described every turn in detail.

  Finally, night came. The five walked toward the castle. It stood even blacker than the sky, its towers silhouetted against the starless heavens. They approached the gates from the shadows; only two guards sat against the wall. Their heads rested on their chests. Bravic motioned to Kala, and the two crept into the shadows. Bravic and Kala swooped forward, and the guards slumped to the ground.

  Bravic stood and motioned for the others. They snuck by the enormous gates into the large courtyard and moved along the wall in the shadows, staring at the buildings that loomed before them. Kala led them along the wall until they were almost at the far corner. The sound of footsteps from the ramparts above brought them to a halt. As the footsteps echoed away, they moved toward a narrow wooden door.

  The latch clicked in Kala’s hand. They slipped silently into the doorway and closed it quietly behind them. Kala moved to the far door, and they all stopped, straining to hear something, hoping to hear nothing. Kala opened the door a crack. The only thing greeting them was silence and the dim light from a torch down a stone hallway.

  They passed closed wooden doors on both sides of the passageway but continued until a large staircase rose on the left. The stairway led to a huge hall; its immense doors were opened and pale torches illuminated the furniture.

  Dean cautiously peered inside. “Are you sure this is the fastest way to go?”

  Kala nodded. “We go through the hall and out to the king’s courtyard. Just past that is the King’s Hall. Volsur will be there.”

  “So far, the way he’s taking us has made this easy,” Han whispered.

  Bravic poked him. “You don’t talk.”

  Han scowled but Bravic winked.

  “It’s way too easy,” Dean muttered.

  Kala slipped into the room, and the others followed. When they reached the middle of the hall, Oieda held up a hand. All five drew their weapons and scanned the silent room. Nothing moved except the flicker of the flames from the torches. Dean looked across the hall once more before they continued toward the double doors at the end of the hall.

  Crack!

  “Dean!” Bravic screamed in warning, a barbed arrowhead bursting through his armor just below his shoulder. Bravic stumbled and fell onto one knee.

  Oieda leaped in front of the Dwarf as the others turned arou
nd. At the top of the staircase, a Tearog was mounted on top a Ravinulk with a long bow in his hand. A dozen armored Krulgs poured through the door and ran to stand at its side. Their curved swords flashed in the torchlight.

  The Tearog fired again.

  Bravic’s shield flew open, and the arrow shattered against it. With a groan, Bravic snapped the barbed head of the arrow off, and, growling in pain, pulled the shaft out. “Run for the hallway,” he growled, his face now ashen and twisted in pain.

  Oieda moved toward Bravic, but the Dwarf pushed her aside and staggered for the double doors.

  The Krulgs howled in glee when the Tearog raised his bony hand, and they surged forward.

  The companions stopped at the double doors. Kala grabbed the crossbeam that kept them closed and swung it open. Kala and Han rushed through the doors, but Bravic and Oieda did not. Dean stopped in the doorway.

  “Go on,” Bravic gasped, “I’ll hold them off here. I’ll stay for this battle, Han.” A faint smile crossed his pained lips, and he hefted his massive battle-axe in one hand.

  Dean shook his head. “No—”

  “Dean,” Bravic cut him off, his voice strangely soft, “get going. I’ll catch up.”

  Dean’s hand tightened around his sword, and he nodded. Dean and Oieda stood in the doorway. Oieda kissed Dean quickly. “Remember the spear.” She shoved him backward through the doorway.

  “NO,” Dean screamed.

  Oieda slammed the door closed, and he heard the crossbar fall into place.

  Dean slammed into the door. “NO,” he screamed again.

  Kala grabbed his arm. “We’ll never get back in.”

  Dean’s fist pounded the door. He tore his eyes away. Then Han, Kala, and Dean ran down the hallway. They didn’t look back as they reached the corner, the sounds of steel upon steel ringing out from behind the door.

  As they raced on, they could see a light at the far end. The light was not from torches, though. The hallway opened into a colossal courtyard. A stone-covered path led to a massive stone in the center. Dean’s eyes went wide. He’d seen the stone before. It was the same as the one in Panadur’s field: a Middle Stone.