Douglas Niles - Winterheim

As he fell, however, his speartip swept around and caught the corner of Kerrick’s hood, pulling the woolen shroud from the elf’s head. Spinning on one foot, the Silvanesti sprinted after the fleeing slaves, trying to sheath his sword and pull the hood back over his golden hair and pointed ear. Knowing that he had no chance to save Bruni and Barq did nothing to assuage his misery as he abandoned his two loyal companions in the grasp of a half dozen ogre warriors.

One more thing caused his heart to sink, as he dashed away. It was shouted by a guard, loud enough to echo through the hall and confirm that he had been identified.

“An elf!” came the cry. “An elf has come to Winterheim!”

You go in here,” said the ogre, roughly pushing Bruni through a low doorway. She ducked so that she didn’t bump her head and found herself in a large, stone-walled room where several dozen humans sat listlessly on the floor. Most, possibly all of them, were chained to the walls, though it was hard to make out many details in the near total darkness of the large cell.

She heard a burst of violence behind her and turned to see Barq One-Tooth struggling in the grip of another of their captors. The big Highlander tried to throw a punch but instead took a hard blow on his head from the hilt of a grenadier’s sword. Groaning, he staggered and was pushed unceremoniously through the door to sprawl heavily on the floor.

The large woman knelt beside him, touching his head, feeling the sticky ooze of blood. Barq groaned and sat up, rubbing the wound then pulling his hand away to look at his bloody fingers.

“You’d think I’d learn to pick my fights better,” he growled in disgust.

“It was a nice gesture,” Bruni told him, “hopeless but nice.”

“Bastards!” snarled the man, glaring at the metal door that clanged shut across the dungeon entrance.

He turned his attention to their surroundings, blinking in surprise as he saw the other men in the cell, all of whom seemed to be watching them with interest. There was a rattle of iron from one of the corners as one or two prisoners tried to stir. As she squinted into the darkness, Bruni perceived that many, perhaps all, of these men were secured in place with heavy chains.

“Where are we?” Barq One-Tooth demanded.

“The queen’s own dungeon,” muttered one fellow disgustedly. “We’re locked up here till she finds the time to kill us. Don’t worry-it shouldn’t be long now.”

“Cheery thought,” Bruni said. “I know what we did to get tossed in here, but what about the rest of you?”

“Don’t talk to her!” snapped one of the men, a swarthy fellow who was chained to the wall by both wrists. “She could be a spy-just like Thraid’s lackey, over there!”

The prisoner spat contemptuously at another of the captives, a thin, bearded man in the far corner of the room. He, too, was chained and was gazing at the two newcomers with a strange expression.

Bruni thought the man looked familiar and was trying to place him when Barq One-Tooth cried out. He crossed to the prisoner and knelt before him. “Sire! May Kradok smite those who would dare to restrain you thus!”

“Strongwind Whalebone?” Bruni exclaimed in wonder. “Is that truly you?”

Their words provoked a startled reaction among the prisoners, several of whom whispered among themselves or muttered words of disbelief. The man was thin and haggard, bedraggled enough that he looked like a different, much smaller monarch than the noble Strongwind she remembered, but those eyes and that tight smile were un-mistakeable.

“Aye, it is, Bruni of Brackenrock and my old thane Barq One-Tooth. How did those ogre scum-lords acquire you two?”

Bruni was about to counsel discretion, at least in what they said within hearing of the rest of these prisoners, but the Barq spoke bluntly.

“We came to rescue you,” he said, shaking his head miserably. “The Lady of Brackenrock brought us here, she and the elf and a small force of volunteers, but Bruni and I were taken as we tried to penetrate the city. My Lord King, we have failed you! May all the gods strike me down as just punishment!”

Strongwind’s eyes all but bulged out of his head. Impatiently he waved off Barq’s continuing efforts at apology. “The Lady-Moreen Bayguard is alive?” he asked. “She survived the disaster at Brackenrock? How? That’s wonderful news!” He glowered, suddenly and looked askance at Bruni. “Was she captured as well? Where is she?”

“She and Kerrick avoided capture when we were taken, as best as I could see. Barq and I were carrying the Axe of Gonnas. It was hidden in a basket, but somehow it gave us away.”

“You dared come to Winterheim to rescue me? That’s mad!” Strongwind said in despair, still looking at Bruni.

“I came because Moreen was coming,” the big woman said tartly. “There was nothing I or anyone else could say that would have deterred her from the path she had chosen. She felt responsible for your capture. It was the honorable course of action.”

“How did she ever think she could succeed? No one has ever been rescued from this place!” Strongwind shook his head in agitation. “It is a hopeless quest!”

“I fear, Sire, that I must bear some blame for that,” Barq said, hanging his head in shame. “Some of the thanes … led by myself … well, we were all set to accuse the lady of treachery when you failed to return from Dracoheim. Of course, we realized that she was a true friend to you when she declared for this quest. There was not a man from all the Highlands who would not have gone along with her.”

Strongwind Whalebone slumped back against the wall, his eyes closed. When he spoke to Barq it was not in anger but in a tone of disappointment that Bruni suspected might cut even deeper than rage.

“Mad Randall and I … we gave ourselves willingly on Dracoheim to allow Moreen a chance to succeed in destroying the Golden Orb. Randall perished, and I was taken by the ogres. Even now that I know that the lady lives, I have to judge that day a success. What a blow … to learn that my own capture has led to her undoing! This is too heavy a burden to bear. It were better I died that day than to have drawn her into this ice-walled trap.”

“Sire, don’t say that!” Barq pleaded miserably. “She still lives, and we’ll find a way out of here, you watch. That elf is a brave one, and he has a million tricks, too. There is still the party of brave warriors who came with us, and they’re not done yet!”

“More madness,” said the slave king, with a dejected groan. “I cannot be the cause of so many deaths. I am not that important!”

Bruni looked around at the other prisoners, who were watching with expressions of amazement. The swarthy captive who had first spoken so accusingly of the Highlander spoke up again.

“Is it true, then-you really are Strongwind Whalebone, the king of Guilderglow? When we were captured, I thought that was a ruse to win our trust, but the heir to the Whalebone kings is here, rotting here in an ogre dungeon?”

“It’s true,” Bruni replied testily. “He is as brave and true a man as you will find in all the Icereach.”

The man cried out as though in physical pain. “Forgive me, Majesty. I accused you of the basest form of treachery. I am a fool!”

“You’re a brave man,” Strongwind said kindly, “and a suspicious one, as you were forced to be. Had our positions been reversed, I no doubt would have been wary of you as well.”

“Is there any way out of here? Can we try to fight our way past the guards?” asked Barq One-Tooth hopefully.

Strongwind shook his head. “There are steel doors holding us here and plenty of guards on the outside.”