Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Uprising

Kai-Thalia strutted down the monochromatic hallways of the Dark Tower of Craulin. The interior of the great central fortress of the city was very metallic and cold, with hardly any fashioning or adornments at all. The few that there were were either suits of armour or statues of some grotesque beast.

The once-jungle girl was now clothed in the finest materials as an escort of the Craulin High Commander. She was mostly dressed in black leather and nylons with lots of glamorous jewelry around her neck and wrists. Her long, silky black hair was allowed free reign about her back and shoulders. She looked both delicately feminine and extremely imposing at the same time.

She approached Garush’ chambers and the guards outside the door let her in with a simple wave of her hand. She had a lot of clout in this place now as she was known to be the favorite of Garush’s girls.

She entered the elaborate chambers whose floors were covered in animal furs and whose walls were hanging with swords and axes. A large bear head hung over the brazier. The bedroom with a grey, dreary four-poster bed was in the back of the chambers. That was where Thalia could hear the High Commander grumbling.

“The entire Western Watch, destroyed!” the brutal, scar-faced commander cried as he flung a bunch of stuff from his nearby desk, “Hador failed me. And only three days from the March!”

“Is this going to change anything?” Thalia asked. She had long ago stopped being intimidated in this large man’s presence.

“NO, no, nothing changes,” he calmed down a little after hearing her sultry voice, “We are too close now. We leave in three days, no matter what.”

“Good,” she sauntered over to him, laying a hand on his massive chest, “No let’s get something off your mind.”

She leaned in to kiss him, pushing back his thick, black locks, and he almost instantly dragged her over to his waiting bed sheets.

When they were finished, Garush had fallen asleep and Thalia got out of the bed quietly. She put her clothes back on and tiptoed out of the room. Garush never wanted his mistresses to stay afterwards.

Thalia left the room the same way she entered, striding confidently and giving a quick nod to the posted guards. She marched down the hallway with her head held high and her icy gaze coming upon all she met. The men in the tower had come to both respect and fear this jungle woman who was a favorite of their high leader.

Finally Thalia reached her private spot. She turned down a small hall on the third floor, leading to a tiny room which was never occupied, used as an archer hold during times of war.

It wasn’t until she reached this room that Kai-Thalia’s hard exterior broke down. She crouched down on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest, and began wailing uncontrollably. She didn’t know how much longer she could do this for. She didn’t know how much longer she could pretend to be strong.

She hated almost every fiber of her being for what she had become, but she knew that it was necessary. She had sold herself in order to survive. But she was a junglewoman, and surviving was what she did best. And she needed to do this; she knew that what she was doing had to be done, no matter what it did inside her. Barn and Bale both hated her, believing her to be a traitor. She couldn’t change that now. All she could do was go on. She had a purpose now, and it must be carried through.

Baran was woken from his broken slumber in his tiny cell in the high tower. His bed was no more than a pile of straw on a slab of rock, but after a long day of hanging by his wrists, it was felt as comfortable as a king’s four-poster.

The guards hauled him out of his room as they did almost every day since he had been a prisoner here, and took him to the next room where his hands were shackled to the chains which hung from the ceiling in the middle of the room.

Baran had become a pale shadow of the man he had once been. The son of Masedelo had been reduced to a ragged prisoner with heavy bags under his hollowed eyes. A patchy, brown beard had grown on his face, hiding at least some of the cuts and bruises there. However it was his pride which was past healing.

The Craulin leaders had been torturing him for months, wringing information out of him about Ionia. He tried with all the strength he had left to resist them, but this was not always possible.

High Commander Garush had not been around the past few weeks, leaving the torture and extraction work to his lackeys, but he was back again this day. The wicked dictator had a large, crooked grin on his face which Baran knew he didn’t like. He lifted his dreary head as he swung from his chained arms.

“I’m sure you will be relieved,” Garush began to speak slowly and patronizingly, “That our sessions with you in this room have come to an end. We no longer need any more information from you. We leave in two days for your homeland

“You have aided us well, but our purpose with you is not yet over. We are taking you with us, so that your people can see the penalty for crossing the might of Craulin. You will burn alive before the walls of your city!”

Garush broke into a maniacal laugh as Baran glared at him with the little resistance he still had left in him. But it soon died away and he dropped his face again in defeat, his seat-soaked bangs hanging over his eyes.

Garush stopped laughing then, grinned at his torturous lackeys in the room. “I don’t want his walking. Break his legs.”

The gnarled Craulin beside him smiled evilly as he grabbed a thorny cane from his table of instruments and walked around behind Baran. After a short pause, the man swung and landed a mighty blow against the back of Baran’s kneecaps.

Baran shouted with anguish, more than he thought he was capable any more. Then another blow came, this one across his lower back. Baran could feel his back break as one of the thorns of the cane snared into his spine. He cried again so loud that the other men in the room had to hold their ears.

Kai-Thalia winced as she listened to Baran’s screams through the doorway. She hated knowing that he was on the other side of those walls everyday enduring so much pain. But there was nothing she could do for him.

The door opened and the screams became louder for a while as Garush marched out. He walked past Thalia without even looking at her.

“I am meeting with the war council. Bring us wine,” he ordered.

Thalia brought the wine and flagons to the council room where the Craulin war council was in session. After serving all of the council’s members, she stood off to the side against the wall, listening intently on everything they had to say.

The council was bigger than usual since many officers were called in from the outer realm. Mardik, Rastif, and Roc, Commanders of the North, South and East, were present along with their councils. Sitting beside Garush was his right hand, Cessio. He was by far the oldest on the council, with his grey, straggly hair running down over his pitch black robes.

They spoke in their own tongue, but that didn’t bother Thalia as she had come to pick it up over her months in the city.

“The March is ready,” Garush declared, “We leave at dusk tomorrow. In my absence, Cessio will be in charge of the city as Acting High Commander. For all that remain, obey his commands as if they were my own.

“Cessio, it will be up to you to name a new High Commander of the West out of the men who will remain. But do it quickly, for the Three Kingdoms may not sleep during our absence. Too much has happened.”

“My lord,” the calm yet vicious Mardik spoke up, “I am sorry to interrupt, but I have urgent business along these very lines. Just this morning my northern scouts have brought word that a party from the west has set out from the borders of Halia, traveling north and east.”

“How many?”

“Two hundred by their best estimates. What their purpose is I cannot say.”

“Ha! Two hundred!” the rambunctious, dreadlocked Rastif exclaimed, “I piss on their two hundred. What kind of a force is that?”

“We will deal with them later, once we have set out. Right now, nothing will stall the March. Is that understood?”

All of Garush’s officers nodded in compliance.

“Now, to the March itself. Do we have the armies ordered.”

Yes Commander,” Mardik relied, “The units are all aligned, each with a scout to get us through the mountains. We have the ladder groups in the van, the siege machines in the rear guard. And each unit will be accompanied by a contingent of each level of our knights, as well as Black Hounds.”

“Excellent. I will lead the van, Mardik and Roc you stay near me. Rastif?”

Aye,” the feisty Commander of the South perked up.

“You take two units through to the southern pas. Find scouts who know the southern mountains better. It will be up to you to take the desert city. Once you have, leave a unit there under command of your best officer and regroup with us in the north.”

“I’ll bury those snakes in their own sand.”

“Just get it done. Council dismissed. Cessio, once I leave tomorrow, the city is yours. When I return, we shall have a whole new land under the Craulin Realm.”

As they left the council room, Thalia’s thoughts were swimming in her head. There was a party marching to the north, going east, going home. Could some of her friends be in that party? Even so, they would see her as a friend no more, not after what she had done, would they?

Nevertheless, she had to do what she set out to do. And it had to happen soon. Now that her plan was drawing near, she began to fret about the smaller details. Everything had to go smoothly or it would all collapse.

“Thalia,” the large and brutal Garush spoke without looking as she walked behind him down the hall, “You are to stay with me in the van. You are to be at my tent every night. Understood?”

“Yes, Commander, it will be an honour,” she lied as he walked on without her. He apparently didn’t need her that night, which was good, since she had to visit someone the next morning.

Bale looked around him. The Deeps seemed to grow drearier every day he spent there. The damp, dark dungeons spanned the entire area underneath Craulin’s High Tower. Tired, defeated men were chained to broken wall fragments as metal barred cages lines the hallways.

Bale had come to accept that he was going to die here. He had attempted escape once and failed, and he knew he would not be able to rally the men for another attempt. Every day they grew weaker and drew further back into despair. Not only the other men, but himself as well.

He heard a voice, a woman’s voice, speaking to the guards down the hall. She he heard footsteps echoing down, coming closer. He had a good idea who it was and had a sudden surge of rage.

Kai-Thalia, the betrayer, sauntered up to the cage of his cell. She was dressed in the finest linens the High Tower had to offer. No less for a concubine of the High Commander himself. She even had the audacity to wave him over.

Fire burned through his pupils as he walked towards the bars. He had long ago learned how to escape his steel bonds, as little good as that did him here. His appearance was sallow and frail, but he did his best to stand straight up and look her in the eyes.

“What do you want, you treacherous bitch? Come to see me wither away have you?”

“Bale listen to me,” she spoke low, “I know that you hate me, but you must listen. I have one chance to get you out of here and it has to be tonight. You must escape the Deeps and meet me at the northern gate of the city. Take any of these men who will go with you.”

He spit at her. “And why would I do that?”

Thalia wiped the spit off of her shoulder, unfazed. “Because, we may have a chance to get home. There is a party marching to the north of the city, which I believe may be friendly to us.”

“Us?? You speak as though you are not one of them now!” he gritted his teeth.

“Please Bale,” her begging eyes welled up, “I did what I had to to survive. That’s all I have ever done. It’s all I know to do. But I am NOT one of them.”

“So you have just sold yourself then?”

Thalia paused as she thought about what he said. “Yes. I know I have. And I must live with that, but that doesn’t matter now. When they come to give out the gruel tonight, that is when you must make your escape.”

“They do not always give us our daily meals you know.”

“They will tonight. I’ll see to it.”

“And how do you propose I do this?”

Here,” she reached her hands through the bars, placing something in his hand. He looked down and saw a brass key in his palm.

“This may help too,” she said as she lifted a sheathed dagger from her garments and slid it through the bars.

Bale had half a mind to pull the dagger out then and there and thrust it back through the bars into her stomach. But he did no such thing, and instead hurriedly stuffed the dagger into his pants.

“Remember, the northern gate. Meet me there. Not until dusk, when they bring your meal. The armies will be occupied then, so it will be your best chance. Our best chance.”

Bale nodded as she took her leave, putting her Craulin face back on and strutting back to the guards.

The day of the March was a hectic one in the High Tower. All the officers who were leaving were packing their things and heading to the eastern gate where the armies were gathering. Garush was overseeing everything as he had servants to pack for him. Thalia entered his chambers as he waved her over.

“I want you to gather the other concubines and have them assemble at the east gate. Mardik will tell you where to assemble during the March. Understand?”

“Yes sir.”

Garush waved over a young soldier who was standing guard at his door.

“Pak, once I head for the gate, follow behind me with our prisoner. He’s coming with us. He can no longer walk, so he should not be too much trouble for you.”

“Yes sir,” the young Pak nodded.

“If he does give you trouble, I have no problems if you cut him a bit, but I want him alive. Dismissed. Both of you.”

Thalia left with Pak as Pak went down the hallway towards the highest chamber in the tower where Baran was being kept. Thalia watched him with her steel eyes as he turned the corner. This was it, she knew now. Now was when everything had to happen.

Thalia raced away from the High Commander’s chambers, making for her own. She burst into her tiny, stone-walled room, throwing the mattress off of her bed.

Underneath the mattress was a pile of parchments consisting of maps and battle plans. Thalia had been compiling them for the last couple of months, sneaking them away from the war chambers and tracing them herself. She didn’t have a chance to complete them, but she believed she had most.

The gathered them all together, rolling them tightly and binding them with string. She strapped the parchments to her pack which had had packed the night before full of food and clothing. As she threw the pack on her back, she breathed one deep breath and then stepped back into the hallway.

Thalia had learned her way around the high tower very well over the last few months and knew the passages which were less commonly occupied. She raced up the stone steps and through corridors on her way to the highest chamber. If Pak had already been there it would be too late, and there would be nothing she could do for Baran.

As she reached the chamber entrance she saw Pak already entering through the grey stone doorway. She caught his just before he was closing the door behind him.

“Pak!” she called out, “Leave the prisoner to me. The High Commander wants you back downstairs to organize his wagon train. I’m to take the prisoner.”

“What do you mean?” the young but gruff Pak eyed her skeptically, “He just gave the orders not even an hour ago. Leave me be wench.”

Kai-Thalia shook her head sharply, as if to say ‘Very well” and swing her fist straight into his jaw. She then leapt towards the door, grabbing the sides with her hands and swinging her feet forward, knocking Garush’s squire inside the chamber, flat on his back.

Pak clamored back up reaching for his broadsword, but before he could pull it from its sheath, Thalia landed another blow knocking him back. He rebounded and swung his fist towards her, just catching her on her right shoulder and sending her spinning.

As he sauntered up to her, ready to swing again, she used her flexibility to dance around him and grab him from behind, wrapping one of her wiry arms around his throat and the other holding his own arm above his head. She then threw him down beside the platform where Baran was interrogated. She gave him one last blow with her elbow across his face, knocking him out cold.

Thalia grabbed one of the chains that dangled from the ceiling, clasping his arm in the cuff and locking him in. She then brushed herself off and went over to the small room to the side where Baran would be locked up when they had no need of him.

She opened the door and found Baran lying awake staring blankly at the ceiling. She was shocked at what this great leader and warrior from back home had been reduced to under the grip of Craulin.

Baran turned and scowled as he saw Thalia at the door.

“What do you want?” he said coldly.

“Are you alright?”

“My back is broken. I have no feeling in my legs. I cannot move. But I have no where to go as it is.”

“Yes you do,” she said desperately, “Listen to me Baran, now is our chance to escape. But we have to go now, right now.”

As deep in despair as he was, Baran managed to let out a small laugh. “Do you really expect me to believe you are here to help me? After you have jumped into the bed of Craulin and watched what they did to me with idle eyes?”

“I do not make excuse for what I did, nor do I regret it,” she argued, “I have no time to explain, nor do I think I could in a way that would satisfy you. But what you do need to know is that tonight Craulin sets out for Ionia. For our home. And we must warn them.

“I know you are broken. You have been reduced before my very eyes, and I do not know whether any part of the man you once were still remains, but if it does you need to call on that man now. If you still have any strength and valour of the Baran of old, son of Masedelo, call upon it now. For now is when we must act.”

Baran stared back up to the ceiling, thinking about all she had said, thinking about all that had been done to him. For a moment Thalia believed he was going to give up, to tell her to go on with out him. She believed he would sink fully into despair.

But he did not. He looked at her straight into the eyes and gave a single nod. He would not give up hope altogether, not even now.

“Alright,” Thalia acknowledged him, “Come on, I’ll help you up.”

Thalia was a slight young woman, but she had not lost her jungle strength, and she was able to hoist Baran up onto her shoulder. He no longer had use of his legs so she had to carry him as he dragged his feet behind her.

They made it out of the chamber and luckily there were no Craulins anywhere to be seen. The tower was emptying out as many were either setting out on the March or else gone to the gates to witness it.

Thalia and Baran made their way slowly down through the levels of the tower. It was going to be a slow process, but with any luck they would be able to make it out of the dreadful palace without being seen and before Pak was found.

“Come on Baran.” She heaved his body higher on her back, making him a little more manageable, “This is the hard part.”

Bale looked down at the key in his hand. He still hadn’t decided whether or not to trust her, but if it was a chance to escape this dank existence he couldn’t let that go. Besides, he had already told to the plan to his comrades in captivity. Pike, Hil and himself were to lead the assault once the evening meals were being served, thereby dispersing the guards throughout the Deeps.

It was almost time. Bale could hear the guards at the end of the hall preparing to bring down the gruel. He looked around at the other prisoners, all as silent and weary as he was. They had worked all afternoon on getting the prisoners out of their shackles, so now most of the men had them on only for show, unlocked and ready to be tossed aside at the first sign of action.

The guards wandered through the long, dim halls of the dungeons, different guards going to different cages. There were four quadrants in the Deeps, but Bale had made sure he got word to all of them what was going to happen.

One of the Craulin guards reached the cage which held Bale, opening the door to bring in the vat of gruel. They never served it out individually, but rather let the prisoners themselves fight for what was there. They all watched patiently,. The plan was to wait until the guard had closed the door behind him, then Bale would open it again and attack while his back was turned.

Tension filled the cell as the prisoners shook with anticipation, waiting for Bale’s first move. The guard’s movements seemed to take twice as long as they actually did. Bale could see the fear in the eyes of his cellmates. They had spent so much time in these cells he knew that some would be too scared to leave. But hopefully enough would follow him.

Finally the tension proved to be too much for one of the older men. He had been shaking more than any of the others and soon he couldn’t take it any more. She screamed and started yelling in gibberish, throwing off his shackles and running towards the guard.

“No!” Bale grunted under his breath. It was too soon.

All breath in the cell seemed to cease as they watched this poor soul attack the fully-armed guard. The guard seemed more annoyed than anything, sliding out his sword and cutting the old man down the moment he came close.

Bale knew it was no or never. He had to act now. He threw aside his plan and cried out as he too got up to charge towards the guard. Once the others saw him they joined in Soon the guard realized what was happening and moved to close the door behind him, but Pike managed to reach the vat of hot gruel and toss it towards the guard, scalding his face.

As the guard cried out in pain, Bale reached him and dug Kai-Thalia’s dagger up under his ribs. Pike and Hil moved quickly to strip the guard of his weapons, dispersing them through the crowd. They ran into the hallway towards the other guards to attack them as well while Bale ran to open the other cages with his key.

All of the guards on meal patrol were down, but the noise of commotion had reached the top of the stairwell and a new unit was on its way down. Bale could hear the dungeon master Lorgun’s voice shouting out orders.

The prisoners were scrambling to arm themselves with everything from the weapons of the guards they’d killed to rocks to more of the scalding gruel. Bale was shocked that they were moving so quickly, being as hungry and worn down as they were. But the heat of the moment had entered their blood.

All of the cells were open now, and almost every prisoner in the Deeps were assembling at the foot of the stairs to meet Lorgun’s force. Bale reached the front of the lines and called his men forward. The other vats of gruel were tossed in the faces of the first guards, allowing enough of a distraction for Bale and the others to pull them down. As they did so, their weapons were stripped and passed back to those men who did not yet have one.

“What are you doing?? Stop them!” the greasy-locked Lorgun cried out.

A fury entered Bale’s body as he could sense freedom at the top of that stairwell. He charged into the black and red clad guards. The grey-haired Hil fell at his side, a Craulin sword sticking in his chest. On the other side of him, Pike was making a hole in the Craulin blockade.

“This way!” Bale cried out, leading his men through.

Lorgun had had enough, and was marching down the stairwell to put an end to the uprising himself. He charged ahead to the front of the skirmish, intending to put Bale’s riot down like the last time. Bale saw his enemy advancing and gripped Thalia’s dagger tightly in his fist.

Bale didn’t wait to act. As Lorgun approached he lunged forward, crashing into the dungeon master with all his force as they both were barreled down to the ground. Bale landed on top of the scar-faced Lorgun, his dagger still in his hand. And in a quick moment, the once-fearless Craulin showed a hint of fright in his eyes.

“You are not stopping me this time,” Bale panted as he rammed the dagger into Lorgun’s heart.

The slaying of the dungeon master breathed new life into the escaping prisoners and struck panic in the dungeon guards. The battle of the Deeps quickly turned and Bale and his comrades charged up the stairwell, washing over the Craulins like a wave.

The grey-haired Cessio, dressed in full regalia, was marching down the High Tower surrounded by his entourage on his way to watch the March at the eastern gate when a panicked guard raced towards him.

“My lord!” he panted, “Riot… in the Deeps… Lorgun dead… Prisoners… escaping…”

“What??” the old man cried, “How did this happen?!”

“Should we send a unit after them my lord?” one of his lieutenants suggested.

“The March will be within the hour, we cannot afford the men. Damn it!” he cried. Cession did not want Garush to find out that a major prison escape occurred only hours after he had taken watch of the city.

“No, let them be, but do not let them near the east gate. They are weak and starving and will not get far. We will deal with them once Garush has departed,” he ordered coolly, pausing for a while until his anger gave in again. He took out his ceremonial knife from his belt and flung it at his messenger, who cried out as it pierced his arm.

“Let’s go.”

“Move, move!” Bale ushered his refugees through the streets of Craulin, heading towards the northern gates. He looked up at the massive Tower of Craulin behind them. It loomed like a beast over the whole city. Bale was in the bowels of that beast, but no longer.

“No one is following us!” Pike remarked to Bale with a voice that suggested both relief and suspicion in the same breath.

“I know,” Bale nodded, “So let’s get as much distance as we can before someone does.”

As they ran through the empty, dim-lit streets, horns began to call out. The sun had gone down in the west and all of Craulin now looked to the east. All were gathering to watch the March, and few even noticed the ragged wanders making their escape.

Thalia and Baran also moved through the streets under the brazen sounds of the blowing horns. There was no place in the city that could not hear the call of the army. Even the sound of their footsteps as they fell into formation outside of the city could be heard where they were.

Finally Thalia reached the northern gate which was still guarded, though only with a dozen or so men unlucky enough to pull duty during the March. Thalia’s shoulder was getting sore from dragging Baran’s limp body around. She knelt down near the wall of an inn that was located near the gate and sat him down on the ground.

“Come on Bale, where are you.”

Bale arrived at the gate not much longer after Thalia. He saw that there were only a dozen men at the gate and decided to charge. The guards were taken completely by surprise seeing the gnag of escaped prisoners decend upon them. Bale had already reached the first guard befre they had their swords out. Only two escapees were killed before they had taken the gate.

When Kai-Thalia saw the attack she hoisted Baran back up and ran over to them.

“Bale!” she cried out.

“You made it,” he said with a voice which made Thalia realize he had not made him mind up about her yet. Then he noticed who she was carrying. “Baran?”

“He can’t walk,” she huffed as Bale and Pike took him from her and carried him between the two of them.

“Now what?”

“We go north, and see if we can find some allies,” she said.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Baran said as they all poured out of the city and into the dark highlands, leaving the call of the horns behind them.

As the refugees set out into the northern wilderness, the March was set for the east. Trumpets blared and huge fires went up on the parapets of the city walls, which were lined from end to end with spectators. Crowds also lined the gates and the outskirts of the city. Everywhere the flag of Craulin could be seen; A great black fist on a steel grey field.

On the plain before the walls stood the armies of Craulin, thousands and thousands of troops standing in their units before the city. Still more marched out from the gate, their footsteps echoing across the city. Other troops were being ushered through secret underground caverns where they had been assembling for months, now revealing their true numbers to all those who were there to witness.

Most of the army was regular infantry, but there were also divisions of cavalry and special divisions of knights. All of the ranks of the Craulin Knights were present; from the Stone Knights regaled in bulky, massive grey armour and wielding skinned maces, to the Black Knights who guarded the Tower, huge men armed all in black who never showed their faces, to the Demon Knights who wielded swords of fire.

Behind the armies came the beast divisions and the machine divisions. Units of the war-bred Black Hounds and the handlers were close behind the knights, followed by other horrible, hidden creatures the Craulins planned to unleash on the lands of Ionia. The supply wagons were in the middle of the pack, and the rearguard was made up of the massive wood and stone siege machines. Closer to the front of the army were huge, incredibly long ladders which had to be carried by forty men each.

And at the front of all the thousands of troops and all of the units, was the command, led by the Craulin High Commander Garush who was fully clad in armour befit for one of his rank. His chest plate was decorated with brimstone rubies and his gauntlets were pure silver. His helm was shaped with the mouth of a demon crying out. He sat upon a black horse who was almost as well decorated as himself

Beside him were his high commanders Mardik, Rastif, Roc, all whom were mounted, and his standard-bearer whom he now signaled. The bearer lifted the massive flag with the Craulin fist, waving it high in the air for all to see. Garush then signaled the horn-blowers behind him who called all to silence with one mighty blow.

Garush then removed his sword from its sheath, turned to face the troops and the citizens of the city, and waved its shimmering blade high in the air.

“Craulin!!” he bellowed in a voice as mighty as anyone had heard, “TO WAR!!”

And so the March began, with the command leading the way and all of the files and ranks following behind. It would take several hours for the entire army to clear the city as they headed off into the sparse highlands in the east. It was a sight to see from the walls as the massive ladders and siege machines began to move among the great tidal wave of soldiers, off to make their war.