Whilst the rangers had been doing their part of the job, the other three should have been resting. They had nothing to do until dawn and as they were committed to the plan they couldn’t change anything. Nevertheless none of them slept. Nedric was constantly fighting the pit of tension in his stomach. He felt slightly sick most of the time.
The other two were almost as tense. It had been much easier for Bethan to participate on the previous raid, as it required little thought. He had just responded to the immediate needs. Now he had all this time to consider everything that could go wrong and it worried him.
Rialto fought the demons of dread. He was returning to the building in which he had been tortured. Although he had said nothing to the others, he was frightened of the place. The torture had been the single worst thing of his life. Nearly two weeks had elapsed since he was rescued and he still woke every night, heart pounding and a scream in his throat, as he relived his memories. He didn’t want to go back there.
Despite all the tension, they chatted quietly amongst themselves. No one mentioned what they were about to do, other than to check the time occasionally. They played cards, drank a little and recounted tales of earlier times. Nedric spoke a little about his childhood, an area where he had been previously reticent.
“As you know, I grew up on the estate of the Earl of Swiffen. My mother is his cook and my father did a lot of the jobs around the keep. My grandfather was his head steward but as time went on he also became the librarian and did most of the bookkeeping for the Earl.
At first life there was great. There must have been problems then as well but I was too young to be aware of them. The Earl was a very proud man. He was inordinately fond of his library, which numbered almost three thousand books. He had people travelling around the world looking for new titles to add to his collection.
Of course this all cost an awful lot of money. He started to gamble in order to raise more capital. Unfortunately he wasn’t particularly skilful or lucky and he was too proud. Rather than accept the fact that he wasn’t winning, he just spent more money and time on gambling. The estate was kept going mainly by my grandfather.
With all this money being spent, he didn’t stop buying books either; it became harder to keep the estate in proper condition. Staff started to leave when the Earl couldn’t afford to pay them. Grandfather taught me my letters and numbers just so that he could have someone else to help him. Mother had to work harder as the number of kitchen staff fell and there were a lot of arguments between my parents about leaving the keep.
Father said we didn’t need to stay but mother wasn’t about to move away from the place her family had lived for generations. Even if it meant that she was working every daylight hour and a long time into the evening. She wouldn’t be budged, even when the staff numbers dwindled to where the estate was virtually unmanageable.
In the end it killed my father. He was up on the roof after a gale, repairing tiles or something. The job really needed two people but there wasn’t anyone else around and father never liked to see something broken if he could fix it. The weather was slightly damp, just enough to make the tiles slippery. He fell over sixty foot onto cobbles and we buried him the next day.
After that I wanted to get away from the estate but I didn’t know where. Mother was never going to go, she just spent even more time in the kitchens. I was ten; I knew that if I went to a city I would end up little better than a slave so I waited.
Those three years were hard. I was helping grandfather and when he didn’t need me I buried myself in the Earl’s library. He rarely came into the place now; instead he spent most of the time in the city. At least he had stopped buying new books. I’m not sure if he just couldn’t afford it or whether the gambling had taken over his life completely.
I couldn’t bear to visit my mother in the kitchens. She was slowly losing weight and becoming more and more introverted. She no longer seemed to care about anything and just got on with her work. I guess she blamed herself for my father’s death and I look a lot like him. Every time she saw me she was reminded of him. I stayed out of her way as much as I could partly to avoid upsetting her and partly because I hated seeing her as she was now.
When the news came through about the need for youngsters who knew their numbers and letters I applied immediately. I thought there would be lots of others. I was surprised when I got the letter saying I was accepted. It was a real surprise when I got there and found there were only sixteen of us.”
Nedric looked across at the sombre faces of his comrades.
“Lighten up you two. Things have got better since I moved away. We exchange letters regularly and I visited her when I finished at the keep. We get along fine; apart from my mother never seems to smile any more. I wish I knew the words that would change that but I haven’t found them yet.”
After Nedric had finished speaking, the others stayed quiet for a little while. Each lost in their own thoughts. Both had enjoyed much happier childhoods, even if they had experienced difficulties since then. By this time it was approaching dawn and they prepared to carry out the next task.
* * *
The morning found Nedric and Bethan harassing a slave who was in the process of delivering wood. Dressed as guards, they had stopped his cart far enough away from the guild building that they wouldn’t be spotted.
All they needed to do was distract the slave for sufficient time for Rialto to walk unseen up to the cart and deposit a couple of pieces of narwood. These were lost amidst the rest of the delivery and Rialto walked away.
As soon as he had accomplished this goal, the other two stopped their harassment and let the slave carry on with his delivery. There should be no reason for him or anyone else to suspect what they had done. All they had to do now was wait, but this time they would be doing it above ground and in a different uniform.
The wood had been impressed about ten hours before, which should mean that they had two hours before it exploded. If the rangers had done their part, then their actions should start to take affect about half an hour before this. In other words, they had an hour and a half to get something to eat and change.
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The time passed a little quicker than it had during the night. The tension in Nedric’s stomach wasn’t getting any less. He kept glancing at his watch although it didn’t help.
“How long have we got to go?” asked Rialto.
“About a minute less than the last time you asked, say half an hour maximum. Our little boxes of goodies should be starting to have an effect.”
“I can’t believe that you had us hunting Igwars. That has to be the smelliest job I’ve ever had to do.” Rialto grinned.
“If I hadn’t thought of a way of keeping them captive and relatively inoffensive, then it would have been a lot worse.”
“Where did that idea come from anyway?”
“I noticed that they were smellier in the warmth of Esteril than they were in the sewer. So if I could cool them down more, then they ought to even less smelly and we could keep them captured. It was pure luck that making them just a little cooler put them to sleep.”
“Of course no one but an impressor could have kept them cool. When that fuse you wrapped round the bits of narwood burns off, those boxes are going to get warmer rapidly. I wouldn’t want to be in the same room then.”
“I reckon that if the other boxes work properly then the place will be on fire. Can you imagine what sort of smell an Igwar in a panic is going to make?”
“We won’t have to imagine, we have to go into the building!”
“Whatever you do, if we manage to rescue Elsebeth, don’t tell her about the Igwars.” Bethan had been quiet but he spoke out to give Nedric a warning.
“Why not?”
“She’s very keen on animals. I doubt she’d look kindly on the death of three of them, even if it’s Igwars.”
“Even though it might help rescue her?”
“Even then.”
There was a shout from the direction of the guild building and the three looked up. They had dressed in the uniform of the city fire fighters and had left the customary cart outside the eating-place where they sat. Someone came through the door, looked at them and called “Fire!”.
They left their seats and grabbed the cart. They could see a large pall of dark smoke issuing from the right direction and headed towards the building. One of Nedric’s fears had been that they would be called to another fire nearby.
They hurried and saw a large crowd of people gathered outside the building. The majority of them seemed to be in good health, with only a few coughing from the smoke. Nedric shouted at the people to get out of their way and when they reached the door had to shout at the guards.
“Get these people organised into a bucket chain. There are pumps and hoses on the cart so get one end in the river. Is there anyone inside?”
One of the guards answered in the affirmative, whilst the others moved to comply. It was clear that they needed direction and that having something to do made them happier.
The three made their way inside. They entered a world of smoke, where walls and doors suddenly appeared and then were lost behind them. The place stank. Not just a nasty niff but the most evil, fetid, nauseous smell imaginable. Nedric was happy that the Igwars had done their work but still hated the way that the stench clawed at his throat.
The tension he had been feeling all morning had subsided. Being inside and doing something was a great help. He grasped his axe tightly as they made their way to the stairwell. Guards and workers heading in the opposite direction passed them.
As they reached the stairs they could see two other firemen standing there. These stood larger than the people milling past and Nedric gave them a wave of recognition.
Just then there was a loud explosion from beneath their feet and the building shook. Nedric knew that this was the narwood pieces he had double-impressed. He doubted that there was much damage caused but the noise should cause even more confusion.
“Anyone left upstairs?” he asked.
“Not that we could see,” replied Daiga. “Are we going to descend?”
“But of course.” Nedric grinned and led the way. He glanced up the stairwell to see huge wreaths of smoke and was surprised but delighted to see that faint wisps were emerging from beneath them.
Perhaps the exploding narwood had caused a fire on the floor beneath them, or perhaps there was a connection between the higher and lower floors other than the stairs. Either way, with smoke issuing from below he didn’t think that there was much chance of the building surviving. There should still be time for them to mount their rescue.
They descended. The floor below was empty of people. The doors had been thrown open and they quickly searched the area. They quickly spotted where the narwood had been kept, as there was a small fire in a woodpile of one room. They could have put it out fairly easily but instead they helped it to spread.
They descended to the next floor and were greeted by the sight of a number of guards milling around the doors. Nedric’s immediate thought was that they were in trouble. They were outnumbered and the guards had proper weapons whilst his friends only held axes. Had they got so near only to be defeated at the last step?
One look at the faces of the guards and he knew his fears were for naught and that a fight was the last thing the guards wanted. He could tell they wanted to leave and that it was duty that held them at their post.
“What do you lot think you’re doing?” Nedric shouted. “Can’t you see that the building is on fire?”
“We have to get the people out of here,” one guard replied.
“The building is liable to collapse at any minute, didn’t you feel the explosion? So why are you waiting?”
“We can’t get in to them without the keys and we haven’t got them.”
“Get out the way. We’ll get them out for you. Come on, hurry!” Nedric’s voice rose from a confidential reassurance to a shout as he spoke. As the guards still stood there, the five started on the door with their axes. By now the amount of smoke coming down the stairwell was getting thicker and blacker.
“I’m not staying here to burn alive, orders or no orders,” one guard made a move for the stairs and that acted as a spur for the others. Within seconds all the guards were leaving and the five could act unopposed.
Their axes bit through the thick wooden door extremely quickly, as they were designed for just that purpose. It took less than a minute to open the door and they were through. Nedric was well aware that they were probably setting off all sorts of alarms but doubted that there was anyone in a position to do anything about it.
“Spread out and release everyone who’s in here,” he shouted.
The others needed no urging and they moved rapidly through the floor, opening every door they met. They found pale prisoners chained up in some rooms and had to use their axes to release them. They pointed them in the direction of the exit and saw them hobble or drag themselves away.
At the rear of the floor was a large room. As they hadn’t found her yet, this was where Nedric hoped Elsebeth would be. If not, then the raid would have been in vain and they would have put their lives in danger for no reason.
They burst through the doors and were greeted by the sight of about twenty young and slightly pale men sat in rows. They turned their heads to look at the firemen and away from the person who stood at the desk in front of them.
Nedric’s heart skipped a beat when he realised that it was Elsebeth. She saw him at the same time as he saw her. He could tell that she was about to call out to him. Before she could react he shouted. “Fire in the building, you must all leave now!”
The men needed a little urging but the smell of smoke that surrounded the five was more convincing than their words. They ushered the whole group, Elsebeth included, to the stairwell.
When they reached it they had to stop. By now the smoke was even thicker and the heat from the fire above could be clearly felt. One of the prisoners they had released earlier was coughing as he lay on the ground, clearly overcome by the fumes.
“We’re going to have to go up through that.” Nedric shouted.
“There’s a route through the sewers!” One of the young men volunteered.
Nedric could have kissed him. He hadn’t wanted to reveal that he had that knowledge and now he wouldn’t have to. “Lead the way” he cried, gesturing the others to follow.
It took time for the group that now numbered about forty people to descend the stairs. Nedric had been expecting the door below to be as guarded as the one above but there was no one about. Again the five had to axe their way through the door.
By this time the smoke was thicker. Most of the group were coughing and spluttering and the five had to drop to the ground before they could get fresh enough air to breathe properly. The doors seemed more stubborn than the previous set and resisted the efforts of the axes.
Their swings were getting wilder as they desperately tried to remove the blockade. There was nobody who would rescue them. Nedric knew that they had seconds rather than minutes before the smoke overcame them all. He swung his axe as urgently as the others and saw a glimpse of light through the hole he made.
Soon the whole grew enough that they had air flowing from the other side and they could breathe easier. Someone had placed a large wooden beam across the door barring passage. When the hole was big enough, Daiga put his arm through it and pulled the bar out of the way. The doors pushed open easily.
Again the floor was deserted. Nedric let the young man lead the way, whilst he and his friends drifted to the back of the group. He saw Bethan grab his sister and bring her with him. Nobody noticed in the press to get out of the building.
They stopped at the entrance to the sewers and the young man grabbed the lamp burning by the door. He led the group and the others followed. Only he and the people near him could see where they were going, so it was no difficulty for the group of six to take a side turn and disappear.