Chapter 17

After a few minutes of searching, one of the hired caravan guards found a crowbar, and was able to pry open the door leading down to the forge. The group had scoured the right side of the house looking for another door to the area, but found none; it had been built separately and was totally removed from the Estes’ home interior.

Axeton and Sigyn, with Mari in tow, entered the basement as the rest of the group stayed behind. The heat blasted them as soon as they entered a second door at the base of the steps that led down. Sigyn grimaced.

“Bad ventilation. My little brother would be appalled,” she quipped.

“Or there’s more happening down here than just melting gold,” Axeton replied, his eyes still sweeping the hallway as they walked towards what looked like the last door before the forge.

“Are there armed men inside?” Axeton tasked Mari tersely. The man kept his mouth closed, turning away like a petulant child, not giving an answer.

“It sounds like someone is volunteering to go in first!” Sigyn said coyly. The big blue firbolg grabbed Mari by the back of his pants and shirt, holding him in front of her like a quivering shield.

Axeton drew Glainne. “Ready?” he asked. Sigyn nodded.

The paladin shoved open the wooden door, as the heat in the small tunnel became even stronger. Both of them turned their heads to avoid the brunt of the heat on their faces, before turning back towards the source.

Staring at them, stopped in the middle of shoveling coal into multiple furnaces along the back wall, were half a dozen people. They were all gaunt, wearing nothing but badly-stained, torn clothes. Each was chained to a steel rod, which was bolted to the floor in the middle of the room. Their eyes were pained, their skin caked with coal and soot, as they stood and assessed the strangers. Their cracked and peeling lips moved silently, as if trying to think of what to say that wouldn’t result in more beatings.

“...Who…are you?” a man asked cautiously. He looked like he used to be tall, but was hunched over in pain and fear.

Axeton swallowed. “We were hired to escort taxes here…but found out there’s more to it. They tried to kill us, but we stopped them.”

The man’s stare continued as he bobbed his head gently up and down, his eyes matching the zigzagging thoughts in his burned out mind.

“May I ask, who are all of you?” Axeton asked politely, gesturing to the others.

The man looked back at the rest of the shriveled forgers, as though in a daze. “We are... the ones they hired before," he said, seeming to struggle to find the correct words.

Sigyn was visibly upset. “You have been down here for three months?” she asked, unbelieving.

“Only…one month,” he replied, holding up a shaky, calloused finger.

The man moved his right arm, pointing towards a stack of leather armor, bags, and boots. Axeton and Sigyn both had disconcerting chills roll up their spines at the realization.

“They…hired us…and brought us here. Left…only six alive, enough to run the forges…” he began. “They killed the group that came before us…we took their place.”

Sigyn’s jaw was locked tight in anger as she dropped Mari and briskly walked to the center of the room. She grabbed the steel rod that was bolted to the floor, and began pulling. At first, it didn’t budge. But after shifting her feet and trying again, the bolt of one side ripped free, sending a small cloud of dust into the air to meet the soot and heat. Dropping the rod with a deep CLANG, she held her hand out to one of the people nearby.

“Let’s get you home,” she said, in a tone that Axeton wasn’t expecting from such a strong creature.

The man gratefully accepted it still in shock, as she gently took his hand and began to escort him out. The others followed, and when she passed Mari, who was still writhing on the floor, she scooped him up by his binds and dragged him out to the first cellar door. Once she reached the threshold, she threw him in an underarm swing, and he landed fifteen feet away near the hired hands.

She kept him in a death glare as he was surrounded, when Axeton came back out.

“The people who hired you were going to kill you,” he began in a loud voice, addressing the crowd. “It seems like they’ve done it a few times, and they leave some survivors to work the forge, melting down the gold so they can smuggle it elsewhere.”

The wide-eyed, surprised crowd stared at Axeton, before almost simultaneously turning towards Mari, who was wriggling like a fish brought up to land. Behind Axeton and Sigyn, the rest of the prisoners came out into the cool evening in a weary shuffle.

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The stocky, quiet man with tattoos, who Axeton figured had become the leader during the fighting upon arrival, saw them and sprung into action.

“You, you, and you,” he ordered, pointing to several caravan guards. “Get these poor souls some water. And for gods sake, get them some fo…”

He stopped, his head tilting as he squinted at one of the prisoners.

“Demitri?” he muttered breathlessly, before walking up to one of them. He stood there, his head shaking back and forth as he did his best to hold back tears.

“Jakob?” the prisoner responded, his words as cracked and dry as his skin. He seemed like he was just waking up.

Demitri gasped, then embraced the man before he yelped, then released his bear-like grip.

“Brother!” he gasped between sobs. “I thought you had left us, or that you were dead!”

The corners of Jakob’s mouth rose up slightly. “No, all though at times, we all wished we were.”

One of the men who ran to get water returned, bringing a pewter pitcher full of ice cold water. He gave it to Demitri, who in return pressed it into Jakob’s hands. He drank gratefully, as water escaped and streamed down the man’s torso. When he finished, Jakob turned and gave it to another one of his emaciated brethren, before hugging Demitri in return.

“Bless you, brother,” he said, in tears of his own. “I knew you wouldn’t give up on me.”

“I almost did,” Demitri replied. “We looked for weeks after you left, but couldn’t find anything. The mayor told us that everyone who took the caravan job decided not to come back.”

“I wonder who told him to say that…” Sigyn muttered angrily, glaring at Mari again. The pale man glared in return.

Demitri continued. “I thought that maybe if I did the same job, I could follow your trail and bring you back.”

He gently pulled himself away from Jakob, then shook Axeton’s and Sigyn’s hand. He felt it was strange, with Sigyn being so tall, it was like washing windows on the first and second floor of a house at the same time.

“Thank you both, so much. I don’t know what tipped you off, but I can never thank you enough for saving all of us and bringing my brother back to me,” he said tearfully. “His wife has been absolutely devastated.”

“You’re very welcome,” Sigyn replied, letting go of her hatred for Mari long enough to receive gratitude. “I’m just glad everyone is okay.”

Demitri’s mood darkened a little. “We lost a few when this one started shooting us from the window,” he pointed out, motioning towards Mari with his chin. “But we’ll get these poor men cleaned up so they can withstand the journey, and head back.”

“What about the money, and the guards?” Axeton asked. He didn’t really care about either. He still had more to do here.

“We’ll tie up the guards…the ones we left alive, anyway. Without these two shitheads strangling the town and mayor, we should be able to jail them. They’ll probably be executed in the end. As for the gold, we’ll take our pay and return the rest so the town can start healing again.”

“We should kill them all now!” a caravan guard in the back protested. “They were gonna kill us!”

A few others shouted in agreement, as the bound house guards started shaking their heads in panic.

“WE ARE NOT ANIMALS!” Jakob roared, the voice that came from such an emaciated and timid man startled Axeton and Sigyn for a moment. The shout brought absolute silence.

“I want them dead as much as everyone here,” Jakob continued, pointing towards Mari, his dry voice barely hanging on. “But killing them here won’t send a message to whoever is running this whole operation. Let’s show them that they can’t take over our town, by making them know for sure that the law…still applies to them.”

Demitri nodded. “I missed your wisdom, brother.”

“And I,” Jakob replied. “Miss your wife’s cooking.”

A few of the caravan guards started chuckling, their mood turned from murderous to grateful in a matter of moments.

“So good to have your smile again,” Demitri grinned, turning to Axeton again. “Is there anything I can do for you, my friend?”

Axeton shook his head. “You’re fine. I still need to talk to the owner of this house; he’s in there somewhere. But it’s getting late. Can we return to Ostiphas in the morning?”

“Of course,” the short, tattooed man replied. There’s enough room for all of us in there, and my brother and the rest of them need some time to be fed and rested before we leave. Although, something seems off.”

He pointed to a thinner man near the middle of the crowd, then pointed to himself. The man nodded, then weaved his way through until he came to Demitri.

“Sir!” the man replied, standing at attention.

“Jerald, can you do a quick exam on these prisoners? I feel like they might be drugged or something,” Demitri replied.

Jerald wordlessly saluted, then pulled some instruments from a bag he had been carrying. He walked up to Jakob, looking and prodding at his eyes, mouth, and teeth, muttering to himself the entire time. Axeton watched with curiosity; the medical arts had never come easy for him.

“He was a medic in my company during an insurgence war, just outside of the Yontin Plains,” Demitri answered Axeton’s unasked question. “Some of us stayed together when the fighting finished, he saved all of us at least once.”

“You’re right; dehydration, coupled with Keratsu powder. They must have sprinkled some in their food to keep them going, and to make sure they can’t form any escape plans,” Jerald concluded, putting the instruments back into his bag.

Sigyn grimaced. “That stuff is bad. My village could grow the flowers to make it, but it’s too dangerous to keep around. It gives you lots of energy but makes your mind fuzzy.”

“Indeed,” Jerald replied, impressed. “And whoever was administering it knew what they were doing. It’s incredibly easy to overdose on. Keep an eye on these men for the new few days, they’ll most likely experience severe withdrawal symptoms.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Demitri said gratefully. “Will you assist with recovery before we hit the road tomorrow?”

The man bowed. “Always a pleasure to help my brothers and his friends. I’ll have some of the others set up a triage area in one of the manor’s rooms. There should be plenty of fresh water and material for bandages around to take care of everyone.”

With that, he pivoted on his heels and walked towards the house, shouting orders that were promptly obeyed. Several caravan guards stepped forward and gently helped the prisoners into the house.

“I’ll be around if you need anything,” Demitri said to Axeton and Sigyn in earnest, before following Jerald inside to help care for his brother.